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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cross of Berny, by Emile de Girardin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Cross of Berny
+
+Author: Emile de Girardin
+
+Release Date: August 15, 2004 [EBook #13191]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROSS OF BERNY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CROSS OF BERNY
+
+OR
+
+IRENE'S LOVERS
+
+BY MADAME EMILE DE GIRARDIN
+MM. THÉOPHILE GAUTIER
+JULES SANDEAU AND MERY
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.
+
+
+Literary partnerships have often been tried, but very rarely with
+success in the more imaginative branches of literature. Occasionally two
+minds have been found to supplement each other sufficiently to produce
+good joint writing, as in the works of MM. Erckman-Chatrian; but when
+the partnership has included more than two, it has almost invariably
+proved a failure, even when composed of individually the brightest
+intellects, and where the highest hopes have been entertained. Standing
+almost if not quite alone, in contrast with these failures of the past,
+THE CROSS OF BERNY is the more remarkable; and has achieved the success
+not merely of being the simply harmonious joint work of four individual
+minds,--but of being in itself, and entirely aside from its interest as
+a literary curiosity, a _great book_.
+
+A high rank, then, is claimed for it not upon its success as a literary
+partnership, for that at best would but excite a sort of curious
+interest, but upon its intrinsic merit as a work of fiction. The spirit
+of rivalry in which it was undertaken was perhaps not the best guarantee
+of harmony in the tone of the whole work, but it has certainly added
+materially to the wit and brilliancy of the letters, while harmony has
+been preserved by much tact and skill. No one of its authors could alone
+have written THE CROSS OF BERNY--together, each one has given us his
+best, and their joint effort will long live to their fame.
+
+The shape in which it appears, as a correspondence between four
+characters whose names are the pseudonyms of the four authors of the
+book, although at first it may seem to the reader a little awkward, will
+upon reflection be seen to be wisely chosen, since it allows to each of
+the prominent characters an individuality otherwise very difficult of
+attainment. In this way also any differences of style which there may
+be, tend rather to heighten the effect, and to increase the reality of
+the characters.
+
+The title under which the original French edition appeared has been
+retained in the translation, although since its applicability depends
+upon a somewhat local allusion, the general reader may possibly fail to
+appreciate it.
+
+
+
+
+ORIGINAL PREFACE TO THE FRENCH EDITION.
+
+
+The Cross of Berny was, it will be remembered, a brilliant tourney,
+where Madame de Girardin (née Delphine Gay), Théophile Gautier, Jules
+Sandeau and Méry, broke lances like valiant knights of old.
+
+We believe we respond to the general wish by adding to the _Bibliothèque
+Nouvelle_ this unique work, which assumed and will ever retain a high
+position among the literary curiosities of the day.
+
+Not feeling called upon to decide who is the victor in the tilt, we
+merely lift the pseudonymous veil concealing the champions.
+
+The letters signed Irene de Chateaudun are by Madame de Girardin.
+  "     "      "   Edgar de Meilhan      "    M. Théophile Gautier.
+  "     "      "   Raymond de Villiers   "    M. Jules Sandeau.
+  "     "      "   Roger de Monbert      "    M. Méry.
+
+Who are recognised as the four most brilliant of our celebrated
+contemporaneous authors.--EDITOR.
+
+
+
+
+CROSS OF BERNY.
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Préfecture,
+GRENOBLE (Isère).
+
+PARIS, May 16th, 18--.
+
+You are a great prophetess, my dear Valentino. Your predictions are
+verified.
+
+Thanks to my peculiar disposition, I am already in the most deplorably
+false position that a reasonable mind and romantic heart could ever have
+contrived.
+
+With you, naturally and instinctively, I have always been sincere;
+indeed it would be difficult to deceive one whom I have so often seen by
+a single glance read the startled conscience, and lead it from the ways
+of insolence and shame back into the paths of rectitude.
+
+It is to you I would confide all my troubles; your counsel may save me
+ere it be too late.
+
+You must not think me absurd in ascribing all my unhappiness to what is
+popularly regarded as "a piece of good luck."
+
+Governed by my weakness, or rather by my fatal judgment, I have plighted
+my troth!... Good Heavens! is it really true that I am engaged to Prince
+de Monbert?
+
+If you knew the prince you would laugh at my sadness, and at the
+melancholy tone in which I announce this intelligence.
+
+Monsieur de Monbert is the most witty and agreeable man in Paris; he is
+noble-hearted, generous and ...in fact fascinating!... and I love him!
+He alone pleases me; in his absence I weary of everything; in his
+presence I am satisfied and happy--the hours glide away uncounted; I
+have perfect faith in his good heart and sound judgment, and proudly
+recognise his incontestable superiority--yes, I admire, respect, and, I
+repeat it, love him!...
+
+Yet, the promise I have made to dedicate my life to him, frightens me,
+and for a month I have had but one thought--to postpone this marriage I
+wished for--to fly from this man whom I have chosen!...
+
+I question my heart, my experience, my imagination, for an answer to
+this inexplicable contradiction; and to interpret so many fears, find
+nothing but school-girl philosophy and poetic fancies, which you will
+excuse because you love me, and I _know_ my imaginary sufferings will at
+least awaken pity in your sympathetic breast.
+
+Yes, my dear Valentine, I am more to be pitied now, than I was in the
+days of my distress and desolation. I, who so courageously braved the
+blows of adversity, feel weak and trembling under the weight of a too
+brilliant fortune.
+
+This happy destiny for which I alone am responsible, alarms me more than
+did the bitter lot that was forced upon me one year ago.
+
+The actual trials of poverty exhaust the field of thought and prevent us
+from nursing imaginary cares, for when we have undergone the torture of
+our own forebodings, struggled with the impetuosity and agony of a
+nature surrendered to itself, we are disposed to look almost with relief
+on tangible troubles, and to end by appreciating the cares of poverty as
+salutary distractions from the sickly anxieties of an unemployed mind.
+
+Oh! believe me to be serious, and accuse me not of comic-opera
+philosophy, my dear Valentine! I feel none of that proud disdain for
+importunate fortune that we read of in novels; nor do I regret "my
+pretty boat," nor "my cottage by the sea;" here, in this beautiful
+drawing-room of the Hotel de Langeac, writing to you, I do not sigh for
+my gloomy garret in the Marais, where my labors day and night were most
+tiresome, because a mere parody of the noblest arts, an undignified
+labor making patience and courage ridiculous, a cruel game which we play
+for life while cursing it.
+
+No! I regret not this, but I do regret the indolence, the idleness of
+mind succeeding such trivial exertions. For then there were no
+resolutions to make, no characters to study, and, above all, no
+responsibility to bear, nothing to choose, nothing to change.
+
+I had but to follow every morning the path marked out by necessity the
+evening before.
+
+If I were able to copy or originate some hundred designs; if I possessed
+sufficient carmine or cobalt to color some wretched
+engravings--worthless, but fashionable--which I must myself deliver on
+the morrow; if I could succeed in finding some new patterns for
+embroidery and tapestry, I was content--and for recreation indulged at
+evenings in the sweetest, that is most absurd, reveries.
+
+Revery then was a rest to me, now it is a labor, and a dangerous labor
+when too often resorted to; good thoughts then came to assist me in my
+misery; now, vexatious presentiments torment my happiness. Then the
+uncertainty of my future made me mistress of events. I could each day
+choose a new destiny, and new adventures. My unexpected and undeserved
+misfortune was so complete that I had nothing more to dread and
+everything to hope for, and experienced a vague feeling of gratitude for
+the ultimate succor that I confidently expected.
+
+I would pass long hours gazing from my window at a little light shining
+from the fourth-story window of a distant house. What strange
+conjectures I made, as I silently watched the mysterious beacon!
+
+Sometimes, in contemplating it, I recalled the questions addressed by
+Childe Harold to the tomb of Cecilia Metella, asking the cold marble if
+she who rested there were young and beautiful, a dark-eyed,
+delicate-featured woman, whose destiny was that reserved by Heaven for
+those it loves; or was she a venerable matron who had outlived her
+charms, her children and her kindred?
+
+So I also questioned this solitary light:
+
+To what distressed soul did it lend its aid? Some anxious mother
+watching and praying beside her sick child, or some youthful student
+plunging with stern delight into the arcana of science, to wrest from
+the revealing spirits of the night some luminous truth?
+
+But while the poet questioned death and the past, I questioned the
+living present, and more than once the distant beacon seemed to answer
+me. I even imagined that this busy light flickered in concert with mine,
+and that they brightened and faded in unison.
+
+I could only see it through a thick foliage of trees, for a large garden
+planted with poplars, pines and sycamores separated the house where I
+had taken refuge from the tall building whence the beacon shone for me
+night after night.
+
+As I could never succeed in finding the points of the compass, I was
+ignorant of the exact locality of the house, or even on what street it
+fronted, and knew nothing of its occupants. But still this light was a
+friend; it spoke a sympathetic language to my eyes--it said: "Courage!
+you do not suffer alone; behind these trees and under those stars there
+is one who watches, labors, dreams." And when the night was majestic and
+beautiful, when the morn rose slowly in the azure sky, like a radiant
+host offered by the invisible hand of God to the adoration of the
+faithful who pray, lament and die by night; when these ever-new
+splendors dazzled my troubled soul; when I felt myself seized with that
+poignant admiration which makes solitary hearts find almost grief in
+joys that cannot be shared, it seemed to me that a dear voice came to
+calm my excitement, and exclaimed, with fervor, "Is not the night
+beautiful? What happiness in enjoying it together!"
+
+When the nightingale, deceived by the silence of the deserted spot, and
+attracted by these dark shades, became a Parisian for a few days,
+rejuvenating with his vernal songs the old echoes of the city, again it
+seemed that the same voice whispered softly through the trembling
+leaves: "He sings, come listen!"
+
+So the sad nights glided peacefully away, comforted by these foolish
+reveries.
+
+Then I invoked my dear ideal, beloved shadow, protector of every honest
+heart, proud dream, a perfect choice, a jealous love sometimes making
+all other love impossible! Oh, my beautiful ideal! Must I then say
+farewell? Now I no longer dare to invoke thee!...
+
+But what folly! Why am I so silly as to permit the remembrance of an
+ideal to haunt me like a remorse? Why do I suffer it to make me unjust
+towards noble and generous qualities that I should worthily appreciate?
+
+Do not laugh at me, Valentine, when I assure you that my greatest
+distress is that my lover does not resemble in any respect my ideal, and
+I am provoked that I love him--I cannot deceive myself, the contrast is
+striking--judge for yourself.
+
+You may laugh if you will, but the whole secret of my distress is the
+contrast between these two portraits.
+
+My lover has handsome, intelligent blue eyes--my ideal's eyes are black,
+full of sadness and fire, not the soft, troubadour eye with long
+drooping lids--no! My ideal's glance has none of the languishing
+tenderness of romance, but is proud, powerful, penetrating, the look of
+a thinker, of a great mind yielding to the influence of love, the gaze
+of a hero disarmed by passion!
+
+My lover is tall and slender--my ideal is only a head taller than myself
+... Ah! I know you are laughing at me, Valentine! Well! I sometimes
+laugh at myself....
+
+My lover is frankness personified--my ideal is not a sly knave, but he
+is mysterious; he never utters his thoughts, but lets you divine, or
+rather he speaks to a responsive sentiment in your own bosom.
+
+My lover is what men call "A good fellow," you are intimate with him in
+twenty-four hours.
+
+My ideal is by no means "a good fellow," and although he inspires
+confidence and respect, you are never at ease in his presence, there is
+a graceful dignity in his carriage, an imposing gentleness in his
+manner, that always inspires a kind of fear, a pleasing awe.
+
+You remember, Valentine, when we were very young girls how we were wont
+to ask each other, in reading the annals of the past, what situations
+would have pleased us, what parts we would have liked to play, what
+great emotions we would have wished to experience; and how you pityingly
+laughed at my odd taste.
+
+My dream,_par excellence_, was to die of fear; I never envied with you
+the famed heroines, the sublime shepherdesses who saved their country. I
+envied the timid Esther fainting in the arms of her women at the fierce
+tones of Ahasuerus, and restored to consciousness by the same voice
+musically whispering the fondest words ever inspired by a royal love.
+
+I also admired Semele, dying of fear and admiration at the frowns of a
+wrathful Jove, but her least of all, because I am terrified in a
+thunderstorm.
+
+Well, I am still the same--to love tremblingly is my fondest dream; I do
+not say, like pretty Madame de S., that I can only be captivated by a
+man with the passions of a tiger and the manners of a diplomate, I only
+declare that I cannot understand love without fear.
+
+And yet my lover does not inspire me with the least fear, and against
+all reasoning, I mistrust a love that so little resembles the love I
+imagined.
+
+The strangest doubts trouble me. When Roger speaks to me tenderly; when
+he lovingly calls me his dear Irene, I am troubled, alarmed--I feel as
+if I were deceiving some one, that I am not free, that I belong to
+another. Oh! what foolish scruples! How little do I deserve sympathy!
+You who have known me from my childhood and are interested in my
+happiness, will understand and commiserate my folly, for folly I know it
+to be, and judge myself as severely as you would.
+
+I have resolved to treat these wretched misgivings and childish fears
+as the creations of a diseased mind, and have arranged a plan for their
+cure.
+
+I will go into the country for a short time; good Madame Taverneau
+offers me the hospitality of her house at Pont-de-l'Arche; she knows
+nothing of what has happened during the last six months, and still
+believes me to be a poor young widow, forced to paint fans and screens
+for her daily bread.
+
+I am very much amused at hearing her relate my own story without
+imagining she is talking to the heroine of that singular romance.
+
+Where could she have learned about my sad situation, the minute details
+that I supposed no one knew?
+
+"A young orphan girl of noble birth, at the age of twenty compelled by
+misfortune to change her name and work for her livelihood, is suddenly
+restored to affluence by an accident that carried off all her relatives,
+an immensely rich uncle, his wife and son."
+
+She also said my uncle detested me, which proved that she was well
+informed--only she adds that the young heiress is horribly ugly, which I
+hope is not true!
+
+I will go to Mme. Taverneau and again become the interesting widow of
+Monsieur Albert Guérin, of the Navy.
+
+Perilous widowhood which invited from my dear Mme. Taverneau confidences
+prematurely enlightening, and which Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun had some
+difficulty in forgetting.
+
+Ah! misery is a cruel emancipation! Angelic ignorance, spotless
+innocence of mind is a luxury that poor young girls, even the most
+circumspect, cannot enjoy.
+
+What presence of mind I had to exercise for three long years in order to
+sustain my part!
+
+How often have I felt myself blush, when Mme. Taverneau would say: "Poor
+Albert! he must have adored you."
+
+How often have I had to restrain my laughter, when, in enumerating the
+perfections of her own husband, she would add, with a look of pity: "It
+must distress you to see Charles and me together, our love must recall
+your sad loss."
+
+To these remarks I listened with marvellous self-possession; if comedy
+or acting of any kind were not distasteful to me, I would make a good
+actress.
+
+But now I must finish telling you of my plan. To-morrow I will set out
+ostensibly with my cousin, accompanying her as far as Fontainbleau,
+where she is going to join her daughter, then I will return and hide
+myself in my modest lodging, for a day or two, before going to
+Pont-de-l'Arche.
+
+With regard to my cousin, I must say, people abuse her unjustly; she is
+not very tiresome, this fat cousin of mine; I heard of nothing but her
+absurdities, and was warned against taking up my abode with her and
+choosing her for my chaperone, as her persecutions would drive me
+frantic and our life would be one continuous quarrel. I am happy to say
+that none of these horrors have been realized. We understand each other
+perfectly, and, if I am not married next winter, the Hotel de Langeac
+will still be my home.
+
+Roger, uninformed of my departure, will be furious, which is exactly
+what I want, for from his anger I expect enlightenment, and this is the
+test I will apply. Like all inexperienced people, I have a theory, and
+this theory I will proceed to explain.
+
+If in your analysis of love you seek sincerity, you must apply a little
+judicious discouragement, for the man who loves hopefully, confidently,
+is an enigma.
+
+Follow carefully my line of reasoning; it maybe complicated, laborious,
+but--it is convincing.
+
+All violent love is involuntary hypocrisy.
+
+The more ardent the lover the more artful the man.
+
+The more one loves, the more one lies.
+
+The reason of all this is very simple.
+
+The first symptom of a profound passion is an all-absorbing
+self-abnegation. The fondest dream of a heart really touched, is to make
+for the loved one the most extraordinary and difficult sacrifice.
+
+How hard it is to subdue the temper, or to change one's nature! yet from
+the moment a man loves he is metamorphosed. If a miser, to please he
+will become a spendthrift, and he who feared a shadow, learns to despise
+death. The corrupt Don Juan emulates the virtuous Grandison, and,
+earnest in his efforts, he believes himself to be really reformed,
+converted, purified regenerated.
+
+This happy transformation will last through the hopeful period. But as
+soon as the remodelled pretender shall have a presentiment that his
+metamorphosis is unprofitable; as soon as the implacable voice of
+discouragement shall have pronounced those two magic words, by which
+flights are stayed, thoughts paralyzed, and hopeful hearts deadened,
+"Never! Impossible!" the probation is over and the candidate returns to
+the old idols of graceless, dissolute nature.
+
+The miser is shocked as he reckons the glittering gold he has wasted.
+The quondam hero thinks with alarm of his borrowed valor, and turns pale
+at the sight of his scars.
+
+The roué, to conceal the chagrin of discomfiture, laughs at the promises
+of a virtuous love, calls himself a gay deceiver, great monster, and is
+once more self-complacent.
+
+Freed from restraint, their ruling passions rush to the surface, as when
+the floodgates are opened the fierce torrent sweeps over the field.
+
+These hypocrites will feel for their beloved vices, lost and found
+again, the thirst, the yearning we feel for happiness long denied us.
+And they will return to their old habit, with a voracious eagerness, as
+the convalescent turns to food, the traveller to the spring, the exile
+to his native land, the prisoner to freedom.
+
+Then will reckless despair develop their genuine natures; then, and then
+only, can you judge them.
+
+Ah! I breathe freely now that I have explained my feelings What do you
+think of my views on this profound subject--discouragement in love?
+
+I am confident that this test must sometimes meet with the most
+favorable results. I believe, for example, that with Roger it will be
+eminently successful, for his own character is a thousand times more
+attractive than the one he has assumed to attract me. He would please me
+better if he were less fascinating--his only fault, if it be a fault, is
+his lack of seriousness.
+
+He has travelled too much, and studied different manners and subjects
+too closely, to have that power of judging character, that stock of
+ideas and principles without which we cannot make for ourselves what is
+called a philosophy, that is, a truth of our own.
+
+In the savage and civilized lands he traversed, he saw religions so
+ridiculous, morals so wanton, points of honor so ludicrous, that he
+returned home with an indifference, a carelessness about everything,
+which adds brilliancy to his wit, but lessens the dignity of his love.
+
+Roger attaches importance to nothing--a bitter sorrow must teach him the
+seriousness of life, that everything must not be treated jestingly.
+Grief and trouble are needed to restore his faith.
+
+I hope he will be very unhappy when he hears of my inexplicable flight,
+and I intend returning for the express purpose of watching his grief;
+nothing is easier than to pass several days in Paris _incog_.
+
+My beloved garret remains unrented, and I will there take sly pleasure
+in seeing for myself how much respect is paid to my memory--I very much
+enjoy the novel idea of assisting at my own absence.
+
+But I perceive that my letter is unpardonably long; also that in
+confiding my troubles to you, I have almost forgotten them; and here I
+recognise your noble influence, my dear Valentine; the thought of you
+consoles and encourages me. Write soon, and your advice will not be
+thrown away. I confess to being foolish, but am sincerely desirous of
+being cured of my folly. My philosophy does not prevent my being open to
+conviction, and willing to sacrifice my logic to those I love.
+
+Kiss my godchild for me, and give her the pretty embroidered dress I
+send with this. I have trimmed it with Valenciennes to my heart's
+content. Oh! my friend, how overjoyed I am to once more indulge in
+these treasured laces, the only real charm of grandeur, the only
+unalloyed gift of fortune. Fine country seats are a bore, diamonds a
+weight and a care, fast horses a danger; but lace! without whose
+adornment no woman is properly dressed--every other privation is
+supportable; but what is life without lace?
+
+I have tried to please your rustic taste in the wagon-load of newly
+imported plants, one of which is a _Padwlonia_ (do not call it a
+Polonais), and is now acclimated in France; its leaves are a yard in
+circumference, and it grows twenty inches a month--malicious people
+say it freezes in the winter, but don't you believe the slander.
+
+Adieu, adieu, my Valentine, write to me, a line from you is happiness.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+My address is,
+Madame Albert Guérin,
+Care Mme. Taverneau, Pont de l'Arche,
+Department of the Eure.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ M. DE MEILHAN,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure.)
+
+Paris, May 19th, 18--.
+
+Dear Edgar,--It cannot be denied that friendship is the refuge of
+adversity--the roof that shelters from the storm.
+
+In my prosperous days I never wrote you. Happiness is selfish. We fear
+to distress a friend who may be in sorrow, by sending him a picture of
+our own bliss.
+
+I am oppressed with a double burden; your absence, and my misfortunes.
+
+This introduction will, doubtless, impress you with the idea that I
+wander about Paris with dejected visage and neglected dress. Undeceive
+yourself. It is one of my principles never to expose my sacred griefs to
+the gaze of an unsympathetic world, that only looks to laugh.
+
+Pity I regard as an insult to my pride: the comforter humiliates the
+inconsolable mourner; besides, there are sorrows that all pretend to
+understand, but which none really appreciate. It is useless, then, to
+enumerate one's maladies to a would-be physician; and the world is
+filled with those who delight in the miseries of others; who follow the
+sittings of courts and luxuriate in heart-rending pictures of man's
+injustice to his fellow.
+
+I do not care to serve as a relaxation to this class of mankind, who,
+since the abolition of the circus and amphitheatre, are compelled to
+pick up their pleasure wherever they can find it; seeking the best
+places to witness the struggle of Christian fortitude with adversity.
+
+But every civilized age has its savage manners, and, knowing this, I
+resemble in public the favorite of fortune. I simulate content, and my
+face is radiant with deceit.
+
+The idle and curious of the Boulevard Italien, the benches of the circus
+would hardly recognise me as the gladiator struggling with an
+iron-clawed monster--they are all deceived.
+
+I feel a repugnance, dear Edgar, to entertaining you with a recital of
+my mysterious sorrow. I would prefer to leave you in ignorance, or let
+you divine them, but I explain to prevent your friendship imagining
+afflictions that are not mine.
+
+In the first place, to reassure you, my fortune has not suffered during
+my absence. On my return to Paris, my agent dazzled me with the picture
+of my wealth.
+
+"Happy man!" said he; "a great name, a large fortune, health that has
+defied the fires of the tropics, the ice of the poles,--and only
+thirty!" The notary reasoned well from a notary's stand-point. If I were
+to reduce my possessions to ingots, they would certainly balance a
+notary's estimate of happiness; therefore, fear nothing for my fortune.
+
+Nor must you imagine that I grieve over my political and military
+prospects that were lost in the royal storm of '30, when plebeian cannon
+riddled the Tuilleries and shattered a senile crown. I was only sixteen,
+and hardly understood the lamentations of my father, whose daily refrain
+was, "My child, your future is destroyed."
+
+A man's future lies in any honorable career. If I have left the
+epaulettes of my ancestors reposing in their domestic shrine, I can
+bequeath to my children other decorations.
+
+I have just returned from a ten years' campaign against all nations,
+bringing back a marvellous quantity of trophies, but without causing one
+mother to mourn. In the light of a conqueror, Caesar, Alexander, and
+Hannibal pale in comparison, and yet to a certainty my military future
+could not have gained me the epaulettes of these illustrious commanders.
+
+You would not, my dear Edgar, suppose, from the gaiety of this letter,
+that I had passed a frightful night.
+
+You shall see what becomes of life when not taken care of; when there is
+an unguarded moment in the incessant duel that, forced by nature, we
+wage with her from the cradle to the grave.
+
+What a long and glorious voyage I had just accomplished! What dangers I
+escaped! The treacherous sea defeated by a motion of the helm! The
+sirens to whom I turned a deaf ear. The Circes deserted under a baleful
+moon, ere the brutalizing change had come!
+
+I returned to Paris, a man with soul so dead that his country was not
+dear to him--I felt guilty of an unknown crime, but reflection reduced
+the enormity of the offence. Long voyages impart to us a nameless
+virtue--or vice, made up of tolerance, stoicism and disdain. After
+having trodden over the graveyards of all nations, it seems as if we had
+assisted at the funeral ceremonies of the world, and they who survive on
+its surface seem like a band of adroit fugitives who have discovered the
+secret of prolonging to-day's agony until to-morrow.
+
+I walked upon the Boulevard Italien without wonder, hatred, love, joy or
+sorrow. On consulting my inmost thoughts I found there an unimpassioned
+serenity, a something akin to ennui; I scarcely heard the noise of the
+wheels, the horses--the crowd that surrounded me.
+
+Habituated to the turmoil of those grand dead nations near the vast
+ruins of the desert, this little hubbub of wearied citizens scarcely
+attracted my attention.
+
+My face must have reflected the disdainful quietude of my soul.
+
+By contemplative communion with the mute, motionless colossal faces of
+Egypt's and Persia's monuments, I felt that unwittingly my countenance
+typified the cold imperturbable tranquillity of their granite brows.
+
+That evening La Favorita was played at the opera. Charming work! full of
+grace, passion, love. Reaching the end of Le Pelletier street, my walk
+was blocked by a line of carriages coming down Provence street; not
+having the patience to wait the passage of this string of vehicles, nor
+being very dainty in my distinction between pavement and street, I
+followed in the wake of the carriages, and as they did not conceal the
+façade of the opera at the end of the court, I saw it, and said "I will
+go in."
+
+I took a box below, because my family-box had changed hands, hangings
+and keys at least five times in ten years, and seated myself in the
+background to avoid recognition, and leave undisturbed friends who would
+feel in duty bound to pay fashionable court to a traveller due ten
+years. I was not familiar with La Favorita, and my ear took in the new
+music slowly. Great scores require of the indolent auditor a long
+novitiate.
+
+While I listened indolently to the orchestra and the singers, I examined
+the boxes with considerable interest, to discover what little
+revolutions a decade could bring about in the aristocratic personnel of
+the opera. A confused noise of words and some distinct sentences reached
+my ear from the neighboring boxes when the orchestra was silent. I
+listened involuntarily; the occupants were not talking secrets, their
+conversation was in the domain of idle chat, that divides with the
+libretto the attention of the habitues of the opera.
+
+They said, "I could distinguish her in a thousand, I mistrust my sight a
+little, but my glass is infallible; it is certainly Mlle. de
+Bressuire--a superb figure, but she spoils her beauty by affectation."
+
+"Your glass deceives you, my dear sir, we know Mlle. de Bressuire."
+
+"Madame is right; it is not Mlle. That young lady at whom everybody is
+gazing, and who to-night is the favorite--excuse the pun--of the opera,
+is a Spaniard; I saw her at the Bois de Boulogne in M. Martinez de la
+Hosa's carriage. They told me her name, but I have forgotten. I never
+could remember names."
+
+"Ladies," said a young man, who noisily entered the box, "we are at last
+enlightened. I have just questioned the box-keeper--she is a maid of
+honor to the Queen of Belgium."
+
+"And her name?" demanded five voices.
+
+"She has a Belgian name, unpronounceable by the box-keeper; something
+like Wallen, or Meulen."
+
+"We are very much wiser."
+
+From the general commotion it was easy to perceive that the same subject
+was being discussed by the whole house, and doubtless in the same
+terms; for people do not vary their formulas much on such occasions.
+
+A strain of music recalled to the stage every eye that during the
+intermission had been fastened upon one woman. I confess that I felt
+some interest in the episode, but, owing to my habitual reserve, barely
+discovered by random and careless glances the young girl thus handed
+over to the curious glances of the fashionable world. She was in a box
+of the first tier, and the native grace of her attitude first riveted my
+attention. The cynosure of all eyes, she bore her triumph with the ease
+of a woman accustomed to admiration.
+
+To appear unconscious she assumed with charming cleverness a pose of
+artistic contemplation. One would have said that she was really absorbed
+in the music, or that she was following the advice of the Tuscan poet:
+
+  "Bel ange, descendu d'un monde aérien,
+  Laisse-toi regarder et ne regarde rien."
+
+From my position I could only distinguish the outline of her figure,
+except by staring through my glasses, which I regard as a polite
+rudeness, but she seemed to merit the homage that all eyes looked and
+all voices sang.
+
+Once she appeared in the full blaze of the gas as she leaned forward
+from her box, and it seemed as if an apparition by some theatro-optical
+delusion approached and dazzled me.
+
+The rapt attention of the audience, the mellow tones of the singer, the
+orchestral accompaniment full of mysterious harmony, seemed to awaken
+the ineffable joy that love implants in the human heart. How much
+weakness there is in the strength of man!
+
+To travel for years over oceans, through deserts, among all varieties of
+peoples and sects; shipwrecked, to cling with bleeding hands to
+sea-beaten rocks; to laugh at the storm and brave the tiger in his lair;
+to be bronzed in torrid climes; to subject one's digestion to the
+baleful influences of the salt seas; to study wisdom before the ruins of
+every portico where rhetoricians have for three thousand years
+paraphrased in ten tongues the words of Solomon, "All is vanity;" to
+return to one's native shores a used-up man, persuaded of the emptiness
+of all things save the overhanging firmament and the never-fading stars;
+to scatter the fancies of too credulous youth by a contemptuous smile,
+or a lesson of bitter experience, and yet, while boasting a victory over
+all human fallacies and weaknesses, to be enslaved by the melody of a
+song, the smile of a woman.
+
+Life is full of hidden mysteries. I looked upon the stranger's face with
+a sense of danger, so antagonistic to my previous tranquillity that I
+felt humiliated.
+
+By the side of the beautiful unknown, I saw a large fan open and shut
+with a certain affectation, but not until its tenth movement did I
+glance at its possessor. She was my nearest relative, the Duchess de
+Langeac.
+
+The situation now began to be interesting. In a moment the interlude
+would procure for me a position to be envied by every one in the house.
+At the end of the act I left my box and made a rapid tour of the lobby
+before presenting myself. The Duchess dispelled my embarrassment by a
+cordial welcome. Women have a keen and supernatural perception about
+everything concerning love, that is alarming.
+
+The Duchess carelessly pronounced Mlle. de Chateaudun's name and mine,
+as if to be rid of the ceremonies of introduction as soon as possible,
+and touching a sofa with the end of her fan, said:
+
+"My dear Roger, it is quite evident that you have come from everywhere
+except from the civilized world. I bowed to you twenty times, and you
+declined me the honor of a recognition. Absorbed in the music, I
+suppose. La Favorita is not performed among the savages, so they remain
+savages. How do you like our barytone? He has sung his aria with
+delicious feeling."
+
+While the Duchess was indulging her unmeaning questions and comments, a
+rapid and careless glance at Mlle. de Chateaudun explained the
+admiration that she commanded from the crowded house. Were I to tell you
+that this young creature was a pretty, a beautiful woman, I would
+feebly express my meaning, such phrases mean nothing. It would require a
+master hand to paint a peerless woman, and I could not make the attempt
+when the bright image of Irene is now surrounded by the gloomy shadows
+of an afflicted heart.
+
+After the first exchange of insignificant words, the skirmish of a
+conversation, we talk as all talk who are anxious to appear ignorant of
+the fact that they are gazed upon by a whole assembly.
+
+Concealing my agitation under a strain of light conversation,
+"Mademoiselle," I said, in answer to a question, "music is to-day the
+necessity of the universe. France is commissioned to amuse the world.
+Suppress our theatre, opera, Paris, and a settled melancholy pervades
+the human family. You have no idea of the ennui that desolates the
+hemispheres.
+
+"Occasionally Paris enlivens the two Indias by dethroning a king. Once
+Calcutta was _in extremis_, it was dying of the blues; the East India
+company was rich but not amusing; with all its treasure it could not buy
+one smile for Calcutta, so Paris sent Robert le Diable, La Muette de
+Portici, a drama or two of Hugo and Dumas. Calcutta became convalescent
+and recovered. Its neighbor, Chandernagore, scarcely existed then, but
+in 1842, when I left the Isle de Bourbon, La Favorita was announced; it
+planted roses in the cheeks of the jaundiced inhabitants, and Madras,
+possessed by the spleen, was exorcised by William Tell.
+
+"Whenever a tropical city is conscious of approaching decline, she
+always stretches her hands beseechingly to Paris, who responds with
+music, books, newspapers; and her patient springs into new life.
+
+"Paris does not seem to be aware of her influences. She detracts from
+herself; says she is not the Paris of yesterday, the Paris of the great
+century; that her influence is gone, she is in the condition of the
+Lower Empire.
+
+"She builds eighty leagues of fortifications to sustain the siege of
+Mahomet II. She weeps over her downfall and accuses Heaven of denying
+to her children of '44 the genius and talents that characterized the
+statesmen and poets of her past.
+
+"But happily the universe does not coincide with Paris; go ask it;
+having just come from there, I know it."
+
+Indulging my traveller's extravagancies laughingly, to the amusement of
+my fair companion, she said:
+
+"Truly your philosophy is of the happy school, and the burden of life
+must be very light when it is so lightly borne."
+
+"You must know, my dear Roger," said the Duchess, feigning
+commiseration, "that my young cousin, Mlle. de Chateaudun, is pitiably
+unhappy, and you and I can weep over her lot in chorus with orchestral
+accompaniment; poor child! she is the richest heiress in Paris."
+
+"How wide you are from the mark!" said Irene, with a charming look of
+annoyance in the brightest eye that ever dazzled the sober senses of
+man; "it is not an axiom that wealth is happiness. The poor spread such
+a report, but the rich know it to be false."
+
+Here the curtain arose, and my return to my box explained my character
+as the casual visitor and not the lover. And what intentions could I
+have had at that moment? I cannot say.
+
+I was attracted by the loveliness of Mlle. Chateaudun; chance gave the
+opportunity for studying her charms, the fair unknown improved on
+acquaintance. Hers was the exquisite grace of face and feature and
+winningness of manner which attracts, retains and is never to be
+forgotten.
+
+From the superb tranquillity of her attitude, the intelligence of her
+eyes, it was easy to infer that a wider field would bring into action
+the hidden treasures of a gifted nature. Over the dazzling halo that
+surrounded the fair one, which left me the alternative of admiring
+silence or heedless vagrancy of speech, one cloud lowered, eclipsing all
+her charms and bringing down my divinity from her pedestal--Irene was an
+heiress!
+
+The Duchess had clipped the wings of the angel with the phrase of a
+marriage-broker. An heiress! the idea of a beautiful woman, full of
+poetry and love, inseparately linked to pounds, shillings and pence!
+
+It was a day of amnesty to men, a fête day in Paradise, when God gave to
+this young girl that crown of golden hair, that seraphic brow, those
+eyes that purified the moral miasma of earth. The ideal of poetry, the
+reality of my love!
+
+Think of this living master-piece of the divine studio as the theme of
+money-changers, the prize of the highest bidder!
+
+Of course, my dear Edgar, I saw Mlle. de Chateaudun again and again
+after this memorable evening; thanks to the facilities afforded me by my
+manoeuvring kinswoman, the Duchess, who worshipped the heiress as I
+worshipped the woman, I could Add a useless volume of romantic details
+leading you to the denouement, which you have already guessed, for you
+must see in me the lover of Mlle. de Chateaudun.
+
+I wished to give you the beginning and end of my story; what do you care
+for the rest, since it is but the wearisome calendar of all lovers?--The
+journal of a thousand incidents as interesting and important to two
+people as they are stupid and ridiculous to every one else. Each day was
+one of progress; finally, we loved each other. Excuse the homely
+platitude in this avowal.
+
+Irene seemed perfect; her only fault, being an heiress, was lost in the
+intoxication of my love; everything was arranged, and in spite of her
+money I was to marry her.
+
+I was delirious with joy, my feet spurned the earth. My bliss was the
+ecstasy of the blest. My delight seemed to color the contentment of
+other men with gloom, and I felt like begging pardon for being so happy.
+It seemed that this valley of tears, astonished that any one should from
+a terrestrial paradise gaze upon its afflictions and still be happy,
+would revolt against me!
+
+My dear Edgar, the smoke of hell has darkened my vision--I grope in the
+gloom of a terrible mystery--Vainly do I strive to solve it, and I turn
+to you for aid.
+
+Irene has left Paris! Home, street, city, all deserted! A damp, dark
+nothingness surrounds me!
+
+Not an adieu! a line! a message! to console me--
+
+Women do such things--
+
+I have done all in my power, and attempted the impossible to find Irene,
+but without success. If she only had some ground of complaint against
+me, how happy I would be.
+
+A terrible thought possesses my fevered brain--she has fallen into some
+snare, my marvellously beautiful Irene.
+
+Hide my sorrows, dear Edgar, from the world as I have hidden them.
+
+You would not have recognised the writer of this, had you seen him on
+the boulevard this morning. I was a superb dandy, with the poses of a
+Sybarite and the smiles of a young sultan. I trod as one in the clouds,
+and looked so benevolently on my fellow man that three beggars sued for
+aid as if they recognised Providence in a black coat. The last
+observation that reached my ear fell from the lips of an observing
+philosopher:
+
+"Heavens! how happy that young man must be!"
+
+Dear Edgar, I long to see you.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, 20th May, 18--
+
+No, no, I cannot console you in Paris. I will escort your grief to
+Smyrna, Grand Cairo, Chandernagore, New Holland, if you wish, but I
+would rather be scalped alive than turn my steps towards that
+fascinating city surrounded by fortifications.
+
+Your elegy found me moderately impressible. Fortune has apparently
+always treated you like a spoiled child; were your misfortunes mine I
+should be delighted, and in your torment I should find a paradise. A
+disappearance afflicts you with agony. I was forced to beat a retreat
+once, but not from creditors; my debts are things of the past. You are
+fled from--I am pursued; and whatever you may say to the contrary, it is
+much more agreeable to be the dog than the hare.
+
+Ah! if the beauty that I adore (this is melo-dramatic) had only
+conceived such a triumphant idea! I should not be the one who--but no
+one knows when he is well off. This Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun pleases
+me, for by this opportune and ingenious eclipse she prevents you from
+committing a great absurdity. What put marriage into your head,
+forsooth! You who have housed with Bengal tigers and treated the lions
+of Atlas as lapdogs; who have seen, like Don Caesar de Bazan, women of
+every color and clime; how could you have centred your affections upon
+this Parisian doll, and chained the fancies of your cosmopolitan soul to
+the dull, rolling wheel of domestic and conjugal duty?
+
+So don't swear at her; bless her with a grateful heart, put a bill of
+credit in your pocket, and off we'll sail for China. We will make a hole
+in the famous wall, and pry into the secrets of lacquered screens and
+porcelain cups. I have a strong desire to taste their swallow-nest soup,
+their shark's fins served with jujube sauce, the whole washed down by
+small glasses of castor oil. We will have a house painted apple-green
+and vermilion, presided over by a female mandarin with no feet,
+circumflex eyes, and nails that serve as toothpicks. When shall I order
+the post-horses?
+
+A wise man of the Middle Empire said that we should never attempt to
+stem the current of events. Life takes care of itself. The loss of your
+fiancée proves that you are not predestined for matrimony, therefore do
+not attempt to coerce chance; let it act, for perhaps it is the
+pseudonym of God.
+
+Thanks to this very happy disappearance, your love remains young and
+fresh; besides, you have, in addition to the Pleasures of Memory, the
+Pleasures of Hope (considered the finest work of the poet Campbell); for
+there is nothing to show that your divinity has been translated to that
+better world, where, however, no one seems over-anxious to go.
+
+Let not my retreat give rise to any unfavorable imputations against my
+courage. Achilles, himself, would have incontinently fled if threatened
+with the blessings in store for me. From what oriental head-dresses,
+burnous affectedly draped, golden rings after the style of the Empress
+of the Lower Empire, have I not escaped by my prudence?
+
+But this is all an enigma to you. You are in ignorance of my story,
+unless some too-well-posted Englishman hinted it to you in the temple of
+Elephanta. I will relate it to you by way of retaliation for the recital
+of your love affair with Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun.
+
+You have probably met that celebrated blue-stocking called the "Romantic
+Marquise." She is handsome, so the painters say; and, perhaps, they are
+not far from right, for she is handsome after the style of an old
+picture. Although young, she seems to be covered with yellow varnish,
+and to walk surrounded by a frame, with a background of bitumen.
+
+One evening I found myself with this picturesque personage at Madame de
+Bléry's. I was listlessly intrenched in a corner, far from the circle of
+busy talkers, just sufficiently awake to be conscious that I was
+asleep--a delirious condition, which I recommend to your consideration,
+resembling the beginning of haschish intoxication--when by some turn in
+the conversation Madame de Bléry mentioned my name and pointed me out. I
+was immediately awakened from my torpor and dragged out of my corner.
+
+I have been weak enough at times, as Gubetta says, to jingle words at
+the end of an idea, or to speak more modestly, at the end of certain
+measured syllables. The Marquise, cognisant of the offence, but not of
+the extenuating circumstances, launched forth into praise and flattering
+hyperbole that lifted me to the level of Byron, Goethe, Lamartine,
+discovered that I had a satanic look, and went on so that I suspected an
+album.
+
+This affected me gloomily and ferociously. There is nothing I despise
+more than an album, unless it be two of them.
+
+To avoid any such attempt, I broke into the most of the conversation
+with several innocent provincialisms, and effected my retreat in a
+masterly manner; advancing towards the door by degrees, and reaching it,
+I sprang outside so suddenly and nimbly that I had gotten to the bottom
+of the stairs before my absence was discovered.
+
+Alas! no one can escape au album when it is predestined! The next day a
+book, magnificently bound in Russia, arrived in a superb moiré case in
+the hands of a groom, with an accompanying note from the Infanta
+soliciting the honor, &c.
+
+All great men have their antipathies. James I. could not look upon a
+glittering sword; Roger Bacon fainted at the sight of an apple; and
+blank paper fills me with melancholy.
+
+However, I resigned myself to the decrees of fate, and scribbled, I
+don't know what, in the corner, and subscribed my initials as illegible
+as those of Napoleon when in a passion.
+
+This, I flattered myself, was the end of the tragedy, but no: a few days
+afterwards I received an invitation to a select gathering, in such
+amiable terms that I resolved to decline it.
+
+Talleyrand said, "Never obey your first impulse, because it is good;" I
+obeyed this Machiavellian maxim, and erred!
+
+"_Eucharis_" was being performed at the opera; the sky was filled with
+ugly, threatening clouds; I sought in vain for a companion to get tight
+with, and moralize over a few bottles of wine, and so for want of a
+gayer occupation I went to the Marquise.
+
+Her apartments are a perfect series of catafalques, and seem to have
+been upholstered by an undertaker. The drawing-room is hung in violet
+damask; the bed-rooms in black velvet; the furniture is of ebony or old
+oak; crucifixes, holy-water basins, folio bibles, death's-heads and
+poniards adorned the enlivening interior. Several Zurbarans, real or
+false, representing monks and martyrs, hung on the walls, frightening
+visitors with their grimaces. These sombre tints are intended to
+contrast with the waxy cheeks and painted eyes of the lady who looks
+more like the ghost than the mistress of this dwelling; for she does not
+inhabit, she haunts it.
+
+You must not think, dear Roger, from this funereal introduction, that
+your friend became the prey of a ghoul or a vampire. The Marquise is
+handsome enough, after all. Her features are noble, regular, but a
+little Jewish, which induces her to wear a turban earlier and oftener
+than is necessary. She would not be so pale, if instead of white she put
+on red. Her hands, though too thin, are rather pretty and aristocratic,
+and weighted heavily with odd-looking rings. Her foot is not too large
+for her slipper. Uncommon thing! for women, in regard to their shoes,
+have falsified the geometrical axiom: the receptacle should be greater
+than its contents.
+
+She is, however, to a certain point, a gentlewoman, and holds a good
+position in society.
+
+I was received with all manner of caresses, stuffed with small cake,
+inundated with tea, of which beverage I hold the same opinion as Madame
+Gibou. I was assailed by romantic and transcendental dissertations, but
+possessing the faculty of abstraction and fixing my gaze upon the facets
+of a crystal flagon, my attitude touched the Marquise, who believed me
+plunged into a gulf of thought.
+
+In short, I had the misfortune to charm her, and the weakness, like the
+greater part of men, to surrender myself to my good or evil fortune;
+for this unhung canvas did not please me, and though tolerably stylish
+and pretty well preserved, I suspected some literature underneath, and
+closely scanned the edge of her dress to see if some azure reflection
+had not altered the whiteness of her stocking. I abhor women who take
+blue-ink baths. Alas! they are much worse than the avowed literary
+woman; she affects to talk of nothing but ribbons, dress and bonnets,
+and confidentially gives you a receipt for preserving lemons and making
+strawberry cream; they take pride in not ignoring housekeeping, and
+faithfully follow the fashions. At their homes ink, pen and paper are
+nowhere to be seen; their odes and elegies are written on the back of a
+bill or on a page torn from an account-book.
+
+La Marquise contemplates reform, romances, social poetry, humanitarian
+and palingenesic treatises, and scattered about on the tables and chairs
+were to be seen solemn old books, dog-leaved at their most tiresome
+pages, all of which is very appalling. Nothing is more convenient than a
+muse whose complete works are printed; one knows then what to expect,
+and you have not always the reading of Damocles hanging over your head.
+
+Dragged by a fatality that so often makes me the victim of women I do
+not admire, I became the Conrad, the Lara of this Byronic heroine.
+
+Every morning she sent me folio-sized epistles, dated three hours after
+midnight. They were compilations from Frederick Soulié, Eugene Sue, and
+Alexander Dumas, glorious authors, whom I delight to read save in my
+amorous correspondence, where a feminine mistake in orthography gives me
+more pleasure than a phrase plagiarised from George Sand, or a pathetic
+tirade stolen from a popular dramatist.
+
+In short, I do not believe in a passion told in language that smells of
+the lamp; and the expression "_Je t'aime_" will scarcely persuade me if
+it be not written "_Je thême_."
+
+It made no difference how often the beauty wrote, I fortified myself
+against her literary visitations by consigning her billets-doux unopened
+to an empty drawer. By this means I was enabled to endure her prose
+with great equanimity. But she expected me to reply--now, as I did not
+care to keep my hand in for my next romance, I viewed her claims as
+extravagant and unreasonable, and feigning a strong desire to see my
+mother, I fled, less curious than Lot's wife, without looking behind.
+
+Had I not taken this resolution I should have died of ennui in that
+dimly-lighted house, among those sepulchral toys, in the presence of
+that pale phantom enveloped in a dismal wrapper, cut in the monkish
+style, and speaking in a trembling and languishing tone of voice.
+
+La Trappe or Chartreuse would have been preferable--I would have gained
+at least my salvation. Although it may be the act of a Cossack, a
+shocking irregularity, I have given her no sign of my existence, except
+that I told her that my mother's recovery promised to be very slow, and
+she would need the devoted attention of a good son.
+
+Judge, dear Roger, after this recital, of which I have subdued the
+horrors and dramatic situations out of regard to your sensibility,
+whether I could return to Paris to be the comforter in your sorrow. Yet
+I could brave an encounter with the Marquise were it not that I am
+retained in Normandy by an expected visit of two months from our friend
+Raymond. This fact certainly ought to make you decide to share our
+solitude. Our friend is so poetical, so witty, so charming. He has but
+one fault, that of being a civilized Don Quixote de la Mancha; instead
+of the helmet of Mambrino he wears a Gibus hat, a Buisson coat instead
+of a cuirass, a Verdier cane by way of a lance. Happy nature! in which
+the heart is not sacrificed to the intellect; where the subtlety of a
+diplomate is united to the ingenuousness of a child.
+
+Since your ideal has fled, are not all places alike to you? Then why
+should you not come to me, to Richeport, but a step from Pont de l'Arch?
+
+I am perched upon the bank of the river, in a strange old building,
+which I know will please you. It is an old abbey half in ruins, in which
+is enshrined a dwelling, with many windows at regular intrevals, and is
+surmounted by a slate roof and chimneys of all sizes. It is built of
+hewn stone, that time has covered with its gray leprosy, and the general
+effect, looking through the avenue of grand old trees, is fine. Here my
+mother dwells. Profiting by the walls and the half-fallen towers of the
+old enclosure, for the abbey was fortified to resist the Norman
+invasions, she has made upon the brow of the hill a garden terrace
+filled with roses, myrtles and orange trees, while the green boxes
+surrounding them replace the old battlements. In this quarter of the old
+domain, I have not interfered with any of these womanly fancies.
+
+She has collected around her all manner of pretty rusticities; all the
+comfortable elegancies she could imagine. I have not opposed any system
+of hot-air stoves, nor the upholstering of the rooms, nor objected to
+mahogany and ebony, wedgwood ware, china in blue designs, and English
+plate. For this is the way that middle-aged, and in fact, all reasonable
+people live.
+
+For myself, I have reserved the refectory and library of the brave
+monks, that is, all that overlooks the river. I have not permitted the
+least repairing of the walls, which present the complete flora of the
+native wild flowers. An arched door, closed by old boards covered with a
+remnant of red paint, and opening on the bank, serves me as a private
+entrance. A ferry worked by a rope and pulley establishes communication
+with an island opposite the abbey, which is verdant with a mass of
+osiers, elder bushes and willows. It is here also that my fleet of boats
+is moored.
+
+Seen from without, nothing would indicate a human habitation; the ruins
+lie in all the splendor of their downfall.
+
+I have not replaced one stone--walled up one lizard--the house-leek, St.
+John's-wort, bell-flower, sea-green saxifrage, woody nightshade and blue
+popion flower have engaged in a struggle upon the walls of arabesques,
+and carvings which would discourage the most patient ornamental
+sculptor. But above all, a marvel of nature attracts your admiring gaze:
+it is a gigantic ivy, dating back at least to Richard Coeur de Lion, it
+defies by the intricacy of its windings those geneological trees of
+Jesus Christ, which are seen in Spanish churches; the top touching the
+clouds, and its bearded roots embedded in the bosom of the patriarchal
+Abraham; there are tufts, garlands, clusters, cascades of a green so
+lustrous, so metallic, so sombre and yet so brilliant, that it seems as
+if the whole body of the old building, the whole life of the dead abbey
+had passed into the veins of this parasitic friend, which smothers with
+its embrace, holding in place one stone, while it dislodges two to plant
+its climbing spurs.
+
+You cannot imagine what tufted elegance, what richness of open-work
+tracery this encroachment of the ivy throws upon the rather gaunt and
+sharp gable-end of the building, which on this front has for ornament
+but four narrow-pointed windows, surmounted by three trefoil
+quadrilobes.
+
+The shell of the adjoining building is flanked at its angle by a turret,
+which is chiefly remarkable for its spiral stairway and well. The great
+poet who invented Gothic cathedrals would, in the presence of this
+architectural caprice, ask the question, "Does the tower contain the
+well, or the well the tower?" You can decide; you who know everything,
+and more besides--except, however, Mlle. de Chateaudun's place of
+concealment.
+
+Another curiosity of the old building is a moucharaby, a kind of balcony
+open at the bottom, picturesquely perched above a door, from which the
+good fathers could throw stones, beams and boiling oil on the heads of
+those tempted to assault the monastery for a taste of their good fare
+and a draught of their good wine.
+
+Here I live alone, or in the company of four or five choice books, in a
+lofty hall with pointed roof; the points where the ribs intersect being
+covered with rosework of exquisite delicacy. This comprises my suite of
+apartments, for I never could understand why the little space that is
+given one in this world to dream, to sleep, to live, to die in, should
+be divided into a set of compartments like a dressing-case. I detest
+hedges, partitions and walls like a phalansterian.
+
+To keep off dampness I have had the sides of the market-house, as my
+mother calls it, wainscoted in oak to the height of twelve or fifteen
+feet.
+
+By a kind of gallery with two stairways, I can reach the windows and
+enjoy the beauty of the landscape, which is lovely. My bed is a simple
+hammock of aloes-fibre, slung in a corner; very low divans, and huge
+tapestry arm-chairs, for the rest of the furniture. Hung up on the
+wainscoting are pistols, guns, masks, foils, gloves, plastrons,
+dumb-bells and other gymnastic equipments. My favorite horse is
+installed in the opposite angle, in a box of _bois des iles_, a
+precaution that secures him from the brutalizing society of grooms, and
+keeps him a horse of the world.
+
+The whole is heated by a cyclopean chimney, which devours a load of wood
+at a mouthful, and before which a mastodon might be roasted.
+
+Come, then, dear Roger, I can offer you a friendly ruin, the chapel with
+the trefoil quadrilobes.
+
+We will walk together, axe in hand, through my park, which is as dense
+and impenetrable as the virgin forests of America, or the jungles of
+India. It has not been touched for sixty years, and I have sworn to
+break the head of the first gardener who dares to approach it with a
+pruning-hook.
+
+It is glorious to see the abandonment of Nature in this extravagance of
+vegetation, this wild luxuriance of flowers and foliage; the trees
+stretch out their arms, breed and intertwine in the most fantastic
+manner; the branches make a hundred curiously-distorted turns, and
+interlace in beautiful disorder; sometimes hanging the red berries of
+the mountain-ash among the silver foliage of the aspen.
+
+The rapid slope of the ground produces a thousand picturesque accidents;
+the grass, brightened by a spring which at a little distance plays a
+thousand pranks over the rocks, flourishes in rich luxuriance; the
+burdock, with large velvet leaves, the stinging nettles, the hemlock
+with greenish umbels; the wild oats--every weed prospers wonderfully. No
+stranger approaches the enclosure, whose denizens are two or three
+little deer with tawny coats gleaming through the trees.
+
+This eminently romantic spot would harmonize with your melancholy. Mlle.
+de Chateaudun not being in Paris, you have better chance of finding her
+elsewhere.
+
+Who knows if she has not taken refuge in one of these pretty
+bird's-nests embedded in moss and foliage, their half-open blinds
+overlooking the limpid flow of the Seine? Come quickly, my dear fellow;
+I will not take advantage of your position as I did of Alfred's, to
+overwhelm you from my moucharaby with a shower of green frogs, a miracle
+which he has not been able to explain to his entire satisfaction. I will
+show you an excellent spot to fish for white-bait; nothing calms the
+passions so much as fishing with rod and line; a philosophical
+recreation which fools have turned into ridicule, as they do everything
+else they do not understand.
+
+If the fish won't bite, you can gaze at the bridge, its piers blooming
+with wild flowers and lavender; its noisy mills, its arches obstructed
+by nets; the church, with its truncated roof; the village covering the
+hill-side, and, against the horizon, the sharp line of woody hills.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ M. EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+Richeport, near Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+GRENOBLE, Hotel of the Prefecture, May 22d 18--.
+
+Do not expect me, dear Edgar, I shall not be at Richeport the 24th. When
+shall I? I cannot tell.
+
+I write to you from a bed of pain, bruised, wounded, burnt, half dead.
+It served me right, you will say, on learning that I am here for the
+commission of the greatest crime that can be tried before your tribunal.
+It is only too true--I have saved the life of an ugly woman!
+
+But I saved her at night, when I innocently supposed her beautiful--let
+this be the extenuating circumstance. That no delay may attend your
+decision, here is the whole story.
+
+Travel from pole to pole--wander to and fro over the world, it is not
+impossible, by God's help, to escape the thousand and one annoyances
+that are scattered over the surface of this terraqueous globe, but it is
+impossible, go where you will, to evade England, the gayest nation to be
+found, especially in travelling.
+
+At Rome, this winter, Lord K. told me seriously that he had set out from
+London, some years since, with the one object of finding some corner of
+the earth on which no foot had ever trod before, and there to fix the
+first glorious impress of a British boot. The English occasionally, for
+amusement, indulge in such notions.
+
+After having examined a scale of the comparative heights of the
+mountains of the universe, he noted the two highest points. Lord K.
+first reached the Peruvian Andes, and began to climb the sides of
+Chimborazo with that placidity, that sang-froid, which is the
+characteristic of an elevated soul instinctively attracted to realms
+above.
+
+Reaching the summit with torn feet and bleeding hands, he was about to
+fix a conqueror's grasp upon the rock, when he saw in one of the
+crevices a heap of visiting-cards, placed there successively, during a
+half century, by two or three hundred of his compatriots.
+
+Disappointed but not discouraged, Lord K. drew from his case a shining,
+satiny card, and having gravely added it to the many others, began to
+descend Chimborazo with the same coolness and deliberation that he had
+climbed up.
+
+Half way down he found himself face to face with Sir Francis P., about
+to attempt the ascent that Lord K. had just accomplished. Although
+alienated by difference of party, they were old friends, dating their
+acquaintance, I believe, from the University of Oxford.
+
+Without appearing astonished at so unexpected an encounter, they bowed
+politely, and on Chimborazo, as in politics, went their separate ways.
+
+Betrayed by the New World, Lord K. directed his steps towards the Old.
+He penetrated the heart of Asia, plunged into the Dobrudja region, and
+paused only at the foot of Tschamalouri, upon the borders of Bootan. It
+is fair that I should thus visit on you the formidable erudition
+inflicted upon me by Milord.
+
+You must know, then, dear Edgar, that the Tschamalouri is the highest
+peak of the Himalayan group.
+
+The Jungfrau, Mount Blanc, Mount Cervin, and Mount Rosa, piled one upon
+the other, would make at best but a stepping-stone to it. Judge, then,
+of Milord's transports in the presence of this giant, whose hoary head
+was lost in the clouds! They might rob him of Chimborazo, but
+Tschamalouri was his.
+
+After a few days for repose and preparation, one fine morning at
+sunrise, behold Milord commencing the ascent, with the proud
+satisfaction of a lover who sees his rival dancing attendance in the
+antechamber while he glides unseen up the secret stairway with a key to
+the boudoir in his pocket.
+
+He journeyed up, and on the first day had passed the region of
+tempests. Passing the night in his cloak, he began again his task at the
+dawn of day.
+
+Nothing dismayed him--no obstacle discouraged him. He bounded like a
+chamois from ridge to ridge, he crawled like a snake and hung like a
+vine from the sharp arêtes--wounds and lacerations covered his
+body--after scorching he froze. The eagles whirled about his head and
+flapped their wings in his face. But on he went. His lungs, distended by
+the rarified atmosphere, threatened to burst with an explosion akin to a
+steamboat's. Finally, after superhuman efforts, bleeding, panting,
+gasping for breath, Milord sank exhausted upon the rocks.
+
+What a labor! but what a triumph! what a struggle! but what a conquest!
+The thought of being able, the coming winter, to boast of having carved
+his name where, until then, God alone had written his.
+
+And Sir Francis! who would not fail to plume himself on the joint favors
+of Chimborazo, how humiliated he would be to learn that Lord K., more
+fastidious in his amours, more exalted in his ambition, had not, four
+thousand fathoms above sea, feared to pluck the rose of Tschamalouri!
+
+I remember that the first night I passed in Rome I heard in my sleep a
+mysterious voice murmuring at my pillow: "Rome! Rome! thou art in Rome!"
+
+Milord, shattered, sore and helpless, also heard a charming voice
+singing sweetly in his ear: "Thou art stretched full length upon the
+summit of Tschamalouri."
+
+This melody insensibly affected him as the balm of Fier-à-Bras. He
+rallied, he arose, and with radiant face, sparkling eyes and bosom
+swelling with pride, drew a poniard from its sheath and prepared to cut
+his name upon the rock. Suddenly he turned pale, his limbs gave way
+under him, the knife dropped from his grasp and fell blunted upon the
+rocks. What had he seen? What could have happened to so agitate him in
+these inaccessible regions?
+
+There, upon the tablet of granite where he was about to inscribe the
+name of his ancestors, he read, unhappy man, distinctly read, these two
+names distinctly cut in the flint, "William and Lavinia," with the
+following inscription, in English, underneath: "Here, July 25th, 1831,
+two tender hearts communed."
+
+Surmounting the whole was a flaming double heart pierced by an arrow, an
+arrow that then pierced three hearts at once. The rock was covered
+besides with more than fifty names, all English, and as many
+inscriptions, all English too, of a kindred character to the one he had
+read. Milord's first impulse was to throw himself head foremost down the
+mountain side; but, fortunately, raising his eyes in his despair, he
+discovered a final plateau, so steep that neither cat nor lizard could
+climb it. Lord K. became a bird and flew up, and what did he see? Oh,
+the vanity of human ambition! Upon the last round of the most gigantic
+ladder, extending from earth to heaven, Milord perceived Sir Francis,
+who, having just effected the same ascent from the other side of the
+colossus, was quietly reading the "Times" and breakfasting upon a chop
+and a bottle of porter!
+
+The two friends coolly saluted each other, as they had before done on
+the side of Chimborazo; then, with death in his heart, but impassive and
+grave, Lord K. silently drew forth a box of conserves, a flask of ale
+and a copy of the "Standard." The repast and the two journals being
+finished, the tourists separated and descended, each on his own side,
+without having exchanged a word.
+
+Lord K. has never forgiven Sir Francis; they accuse each other of
+plagiarism, a mortal hatred has sprung up between them, and thus
+Tschamalouri finished what politics began.
+
+I had this story from Lord K. himself, who drags out a disenchanted and
+gloomy existence, which would put an end to itself had he not in present
+contemplation a journey to the moon; still he is half convinced that he
+would find Sir Francis there.
+
+Entertain your mother with this story, it would be improved by your
+narration.
+
+You must agree with me that if the English grow four thousand fathoms
+above the sea, the plant must necessarily thrive on the plains and the
+low countries. It is acclimated everywhere, like the strawberry, without
+possessing its sweet savor.
+
+Italy is, I believe, the land where it best flourishes. There I have
+traversed fields of English, sown everywhere, mixed with a few Italians.
+
+But I would have been happy if I had encountered only Englishmen along
+my route. Some poet has said that England is a swan's nest in the midst
+of the waves. Alas! how few are the swans that come to us at long
+intervals, compared with the old ostriches in bristling plumage, and the
+young storks with their long, thin necks that flock to us.
+
+When in Rome only a few hours, and wandering through the Campo Vaccino,
+I found among the ruins one I did not seek. It was Lady Penock. I had
+met her so often that I could not fail to know her name. Edgar, you know
+Lady Penock; it is impossible that you should not. But if not, it is
+easy for you to picture her to yourself. Take a keepsake, pick out one
+of those faces more beautiful than the fairies of our dreams, so lovely
+that it might be doubted whether the painter found his model among the
+daughters of earth. Passionate lover of form, feast your eye upon the
+graceful curve of that neck, those shoulders; gaze upon that pure brow
+where grace and youth preside; bathe your soul in the soft brightness of
+that blue and limpid glance; bend to taste the perfumed breath of that
+smiling mouth; tremble at the touch of those blonde tresses, twined in
+bewildering mazes behind the head and falling over the temples in waving
+masses; fervent worshipper at the shrine of beauty, fall into ecstasies;
+then imagine the opposite of this charming picture, and you have Lady
+Penock.
+
+This apparition, in the centre of the ancient forum, completely upset my
+meditations. J.J. Rousseau says in his Confessions that he forgot Mme.
+de Larnage in seeing the Pont du Gard. So I forgot the Coliseum at the
+sight of Lady Penock. Explain, dear Edgar, what fatality attended my
+steps, that ever afterwards this baleful beauty pursued me?
+
+Under the arches of the Coliseum, beneath the dome of St. Peter, in
+Pagan Rome and in Catholic Rome, in front of the Laocöon, before the
+Communion of St. Jerome, by Dominichino, on the banks of Lake Albano,
+under the shades of the Villa Borghese, at Tivoli in the Sibyl's temple,
+at Subiaco in the Convent of St. Benoit, under every moon and by every
+sun I saw her start up at my side. To get away from her I took flight
+and travelled post to Tuscany. I found her at the foot of the falls of
+Terni, at the tomb of St. Francis d'Assise, under Hannibal's gate at
+Spoletta, at the table d'hote Perouse at Arezzo, on the threshold of
+Petrarch's house; finally, the first person I met in the Piazza of the
+Grand Duke at Florence, before the Perseus of Benvenuto Cellini, Edgar,
+was Lady Penock. At Pisa she appeared to me in the Campo Santo; in the
+Gulf of Genoa her bark came near capsizing mine; at Turin I found her at
+the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities; her and no one else! And, what was
+so amusing, my Lady on seeing me became agitated, blushed and looked
+down, and believing herself the object of an ungovernable passion, she
+mumbled through her long teeth, "Shocking! Shocking!"
+
+Tired of war, I bade adieu to Italy and crossed the mountains; besides,
+dear country, I sighed to see you once more. I passed through Savoy and
+when I saw the mountains of Dauphiny loom up against the distant horizon
+my heart beat wildly, my eyes filled with tears, and I felt like a
+returning exile, and know not what false pride restrained me from
+springing to the ground and kissing the soil of France!
+
+Hail! noble and generous land, the home of intelligence and of liberty!
+On touching thee the soul swells within us, the mind expands; no child
+of thine can return to thy bosom without a throb of holy joy, a feeling
+of noble pride. I passed along filled with delirious happiness. The
+trees smiled on me, the winds whispered softly in my ear, the little
+flowers that carpeted the wayside welcomed me; it required an effort to
+restrain myself from embracing as brothers the noble fellows that passed
+me on the way.
+
+Then, Edgar, I was to find you again, and it was the spot of my
+birthplace, the paternal acres which in our common land seem to us a
+second country.
+
+The night was dark, no moon, no stars; I had just left Grenoble and was
+passing through Voreppe, a little village not without some importance
+because in the neighborhood of the Grande Chartreuse, which, at this
+season of the year, attracts more curiosity-hunters than
+believers--suddenly the horses stopped, I heard a rumbling noise
+outside, and a crimson glare lighted up the carriage windows. I might
+have taken it for sunset, if the sun had not set long since.
+
+I got out and found the only inn of the village on fire; great was the
+confusion in the small hamlet, there was a general screaming, struggling
+and running about. The innkeeper with his wife, children, and servants
+emptied the stables and barns. The horses neighed, the oxen bellowed,
+and the pigs, feeling that they were predestined to be roasted anyhow,
+offered to their rescuers an obstinate and philosophical resistance.
+
+Meantime the notables of the place, formed in groups, discussed
+magisterially the origin of a fire which no one made an effort to stay.
+Left alone, it brightened the night, fired the surrounding hills and
+shot its jets and rockets of sparks far into the sky. You, a poet, would
+have thought it fine. Sublime egotist that you are, everything is
+effect, color, mirages, decorations. Endeavoring to make myself useful
+in this disaster, I thought I heard it whispered around me that some
+travellers remained in the inn, who, if not already destroyed, were
+seriously threatened.
+
+Among others a young stranger was mentioned who had come that day from
+the Grande Chartreuse, which she had been visiting. I went straight to
+the innkeeper who was dragging one of his restive pigs by the tail,
+reminding me of one of the most ridiculous pictures of Charlet. "All
+right," said the man, "all the travellers are gone, and as to those who
+remain--" "Then some do remain?" I asked, and by insisting learned that
+an Englishwoman occupied a room in the second story.
+
+I hate England--I hate it absurdly, in true, old-fashioned style. To me
+England is still "Perfidious Albion."
+
+You may laugh, but I hate in proportion to the love I bear my country. I
+hate because my heart has always bled for the wounds she has opened in
+the bosom of France. Yes, but coward is he who has the ability to save a
+fellow-creature, yet folds his arms, deaf to pity! My enemy in the jaws
+of death is my brother. If need be I would jump into the flood to save
+Sir Hudson Lowe, free to challenge him afterwards, and try to kill him
+as I would a dog.
+
+The ground-floor of the inn was enveloped in flames. I took a ladder,
+and resting it against the sill, I mounted to the window that had been
+pointed out to me. On the hospitable soil of France a stranger must not
+perish for want of a Frenchman to save him. Like Anthony, with one blow
+I broke the glass and raised the sash; I found myself in a passage that
+the fire had not reached. I sprang towards a door.--an excited voice
+said, "Don't come in." I entered, looked around for the young stranger,
+and, immortal gods! what did I see? In the charming négligé of a beauty
+suddenly awakened,--you are right, it was she. Yes, my dear fellow, it
+was Lady Penock--Lady Penock, who recognised and screamed furiously!
+"Madame," said I, turning away with a sincere and proper feeling of
+respect, "you are mistaken. The house is on fire, and if you do not
+leave it"--"You! you!" she cried, "have set fire to it, like Lovelace,
+to carry me off." "Madame," said I, "we have no time to lose." The floor
+smoked under our feet, the rafters cracked over our heads, the flames
+roared at the door, delay was dangerous; so, in spite of the eternal
+refrain that sounded like the crying of a bird,--"Shocking! shocking!" I
+dragged Lady Penock from behind the bed where she cowered to escape my
+wild embraces, picked her up as if she were a stick of dry wood, and
+bearing the precious burden, appeared at the top of the ladder.
+Meanwhile the fire raged, the flames and the smoke enveloped us on all
+sides. "For pity's sake, madame," said I, "don't scream and kick so." My
+lady screamed all the louder and struggled all the worse. When half way
+down the ladder she said, "Young man, go back immediately, I have
+forgotten something very valuable to me." At these words the roof fell
+in, the walls crumbled away, the ladder shook, the earth opened under my
+feet, and I felt as if I were falling into the abyss of Taenarus.
+
+I awoke, under an humble roof whose poor owner had received me.
+
+I had a fracture of my shoulder, and three doctors by my side. I have
+known many men to die with less. As for Lady Penock, I learned with
+satisfaction of her escape, barring a sprained ankle; she had departed
+indignant at the impertinence of my conduct, and to the people who had
+charitably suggested to her to instal herself as a gray nun at the
+bedside of her preserver, she said, coloring angrily, "Oh, I should die
+if I were to see that young man again."
+
+Be reassured, France has again atoned for Albion. My adventure having
+made some noise, a few days after the fire Providence came into my room
+and sat beside my bed in the shape of a noble woman named Madame de
+Braimes.
+
+It appears that M. de Braimes has been, for a year past, prefect of
+Grenoble; that he knew my father intimately, and my name sufficed to
+bring these two noble beings to my side.
+
+As soon as I could bear the motion of a carriage, they took me from
+Voreppe, and I am now writing to you, my dear Edgar, from the hotel of
+the Prefecture.
+
+I received in Florence the last letter you directed to me at Rome. What
+a number of questions you ask, and how am I to answer them all?
+
+Don't speak to me of Jerusalem, Cedron, Lebanon, Palmyra and Baalbec, or
+anything of the sort. Read over again Réné's Guide-book, Jocelyn's
+Travels, the Orientales of Olympio, and you will know as much about the
+East as I do, though I have been there, according to your account, for
+the last two years. However, I have performed all the commissions you
+gave me, on the eve of my departure, three years ago. I bring you pipes
+from Constantinople, to your mother chaplets from Bethlehem--only I
+bought the pipes at Leghorn, and the chaplets at Rome.
+
+Do you remember a cold, rainy December evening in Paris, eighteen months
+ago, when I should have been on the borders of Afghanistan, or the
+shores of the Euphrates, you were walking along the quays, between
+eleven o'clock and midnight, walking rapidly, wrapped like a Castilian
+in the folds of your cloak?
+
+Do you remember that between the Pont Neuf and the Pont Saint Michel you
+stumbled against a young man, enveloped likewise in a cloak, and
+following rapidly the course of the Seine in a direction opposite to
+yours? The shock was violent, and nailed us both to the spot. Do you
+remember that having scrutinized each other under the gaslight, you
+exclaimed, "Raymond," and opened your arms to embrace me; then, seeing
+the cold and reserved attitude of him who stood silently before you, how
+you changed your mind and went your way, laughing at the mistake but
+struck by the resemblance?
+
+The resemblance still exists; the young man that you called Raymond, was
+Raymond.
+
+One more story, and I have done. I will tell it without pride or
+pretence, a thing so natural, so simple, that it is neither worth
+boasting of nor concealing.
+
+You know Frederick B. You remember that I have always spoken of him as a
+brother. We played together in the same cradle; we grew up, as it were,
+under the same roof. At school I prepared his lessons: out of gratitude
+he ate my sugar-plums. At college I performed his tasks and fought his
+battles. At twenty, I received a sword-thrust in my breast on his
+account. Later he plunged into matrimony and business, and we lost sight
+of, without ceasing to love each other. I knew that he prospered, and I
+asked nothing more. As for myself, tired of the sterile life I was
+leading, called fashionable life, I turned my fortune into ready money,
+and prepared to set out on a long journey.
+
+The day of my departure--I had bidden you good-bye the evening
+before--Frederick entered my room. A year had nearly passed since we
+had met; I did not know that he was in Paris. I found him changed; his
+preoccupied air alarmed me. However, I concealed my anxiety. We cannot
+treat with too much reserve and delicacy the sadness of our married
+friends. As he talked, two big tears rolled silently down his cheeks. I
+had to speak.
+
+"What is the matter?" I asked abruptly; and I pressed him with
+questions, tormented him until he told me all. Bankruptcy was at his
+door; and he spoke of his wife and children in such heart-rending terms,
+that I mingled my tears with his, thinking of course that I was not rich
+enough to give him the money he needed.
+
+"My poor Frederic," I finally said, "is it such a very large amount?" He
+replied with a gesture of despair. "Come, how much?" I asked again.
+
+"Five hundred thousand francs!" he cried, in a gloomy stupor. I arose,
+took him by the arm, and under the pretext of diverting him, drew him on
+the boulevards. I left him at the door of my notary and joined him on
+coming out. "Frederick," I said, giving him a line I had just written,
+"take that and hasten to embrace your wife and children." Then I jumped
+into a cab which carried me home; my journey was over. I returned from
+Jerusalem.
+
+Dupe! I hear you say, Ah, no, Edgar! I am young and I understand men,
+but there dwell in them both the good and the beautiful, and to expect
+to derive any other satisfaction than that found in cultivating these
+qualities has always seemed to me to be an unreasonable expectation.
+
+What! you, as a poet, enjoy the intoxication of inspiration, the feast
+of solitude, the silence of serene and starry nights and that does not
+satisfy you; you would have fortune hasten to the sound of the Muses'
+kisses.
+
+What! as a generous man, you can enjoy the delights of giving and only
+sow a field of benefits in the hope of reaping some day the golden
+harvest of gratitude!
+
+Of what do you complain? wretched man! You are the ingrate. Besides,
+even with this view, be convinced, dear Edgar, that the good and the
+beautiful are still two of the best speculations that can be made here
+below, and nothing in the world succeeds better than fine verses and
+noble deeds. Only wicked hearts and bad poets dare to affirm the
+contrary. For myself, experience has taught me that self-abnegation is
+profit enough to him who exercises it, and disinterestedness is a
+blossom of luxury that well cultivated bears most savory fruit. I
+encountered fortune in turning my back on her. I owe to Lady Penock the
+touching care and precious friendship of Madame de Braimes, and if this
+system of remuneration continue I shall end by believing that in
+throwing myself into the gulf of Curtius I would fall upon a bed of
+roses.
+
+The fact is, I was ruined, but whoever could have seen me at the moment
+would have said I was overcome with delight. I must tell you all, Edgar;
+I pictured to myself the transports of Frederick and his wife on seeing
+the abyss that was about to engulf them so easily closed; these sweet
+images alone did not cause my wild delight; would you believe it, the
+thought of my ruin and poverty intoxicated me more. I had suffered for a
+long time from an unoccupied youth, and was indignant at my uneventful
+life. At twenty I quietly assumed a position prepared for me; to play
+this part in the world I had taken the trouble to be born; to gather the
+fruits of life I had only to stretch out my hand. Irritated at the
+quietude of my days, wearied with a happiness that cost me nothing, I
+sought heroic struggles, chivalrous encounters, and not finding them in
+a well-regulated society, where strong interests have been substituted
+for strong passions, I fretted in secret and wept over my impotence.
+
+But now my hour was come! I was about to put my will, strength and
+courage to the proof. I was about to wrest from study the secrets of
+talent. I was about to reclaim from labor the fortune I had given away,
+and which I owed to chance. Until that deed I had only been the son of
+my father, the heir of my ancestors; now I was to become the child of my
+own deeds. The prisoner who sees his chains fall off and sends to
+heaven a wild shout of liberty, does not feel a deeper joy than I felt
+when ready to struggle with destiny I could exclaim, "I am poor!"
+
+I have seen everywhere _blasé_ young men, old before their time, who,
+according to their own account, have known and exhausted every pleasure;
+have felt the nothingness of human things. 'Tis true these young
+unfortunates have tried everything but labor and devotion to some holy
+cause.
+
+There remained of my patrimony fifteen thousand francs, which were laid
+aside to defray my travelling expenses. This, with a very moderate
+revenue accruing from two little farms, contiguous to the castle of my
+father, made up my possessions.
+
+Putting the best face on things, supposing I might recover my fortune,
+an event so uncertain that it were best not to count on it, I wisely
+traced the line of duty with a firm hand and joyous heart.
+
+I decided immediately that I would not undeceive my friends as to my
+departure, and that I would employ, in silence and seclusion, the time I
+was supposed to be spending abroad.
+
+Not that it did not occur to me to proclaim boldly what I had done, for
+in a country where a dozen wretches are every year publicly beheaded for
+the sake of example, perhaps it would be well also, for example's sake,
+to do good publicly. To do this, however, would have been to compromise
+Frederick's credit, who, besides, would never have accepted my sacrifice
+if he could have measured its extent.
+
+I could have retired to my estates; but felt no inclination to make an
+exposure of my poverty to the comments of a charitable province; nor had
+I taste for the life of a ruined country squire.
+
+Besides, solitude was essential to my plans, and solitude is impossible
+out of Paris; one is never really lost save in a crowd. I soon found in
+the Masario a little room very near the clouds, but brightened by the
+rising sun, overlooking a sea of verdure marked here and there by a few
+northern pines, with their gloomy and motionless branches.
+
+This nest pleased me. I furnished it simply, filled it with books and
+hung over my bed the portrait of my sainted mother, who seemed to smile
+on and encourage me, while you, Frederick and others believed me
+steaming towards the shores of the East; and here I quietly installed
+myself, prouder and more triumphant than a soldier of fortune taking
+possession of a kingdom.
+
+Edgar, these two years I really lived--. In that little room I spent
+what will remain, I very much fear, the purest, the brightest, the best
+period of my whole life. I am not of much account now, formerly I was
+nothing; the little good that is in me was developed in those two years
+of deep vigils. I thought, reflected, suffered and nourished myself with
+the bread of the strong. I initiated myself into the stern delights of
+study, the austere joys of poverty.
+
+O! days of labor and privation, beautiful days! Where have you gone?
+Holy enchantments, shall I ever taste you again? Silent and meditative
+nights! when at the first glimmer of dawn I saw the angel of revery
+alight at my side, bend his beautiful face over me, and fold my wearied
+limbs in his white wings; blissful nights! will you ever return?
+
+If you only knew the life I led through these two years! If you knew
+what dreams visited me in that humble nest by the dim light of the lamp,
+you would be jealous of them, my poet!
+
+The days were passed in serious study. At evening I took my frugal
+repast, in winter, by the hearth, in summer by the open window. In
+December I had guests that kings might have envied. Hugo, George Sand,
+Lamartine, De Musset, yourself, dear Edgar. In April I had the soft
+breezes, the perfume of the lilacs, the song of the birds warbling among
+the branches, and the joyous cries of the children playing in the
+distant alleys, while the young mothers passed slowly through the fresh
+grass, their faces wreathed with sweet smiles, like the happy shadows
+that wander through the Elysian fields.
+
+Sometimes on a dark night I would venture into the streets of Paris, my
+hat drawn over my eyes to keep out the glare of gas. On one of these
+solitary rambles I met you. Imagine the courage I required not to rush
+into your open arms. I returned frequently along the quays, listening to
+the confused roar, like the distant swell of the ocean, made by the
+great city before falling to sleep, listening to the murmurs of the
+river and gazing at the moon like a burning disk from the furnace,
+slowly rising behind the towers of Notre Dame.
+
+Often I prowled under the windows of my friends, stopping at yours to
+send you a good-night.
+
+Returning home I would rekindle my fire and begin anew my labors,
+interrupted from time to time by the bells of the neighboring convents
+and the sound of the hours striking sadly in the darkness.
+
+
+O! nights more beautiful than the day. It was then that I felt germinate
+and flourish in my heart a strange love.
+
+Opposite me, beyond the garden that separated us, was a window, in a
+story on a level with mine; it was hid during the day by the tall pines,
+but its light shone clear and bright through the foliage. This lamp was
+lit invariably at the same hour every evening and was rarely
+extinguished before dawn. There, I thought, one of God's poor creatures
+works and suffers. Sometimes I rose from my desk to look at this little
+star twinkling between heaven and earth, and with my brow pressed
+against the pane gazed sadly at it.
+
+In the beginning it excited me to watch, and I made it a point of honor
+never to extinguish my lamp as long as the rival lamp was burning; at
+last it became the friend of my solitude, the companion of my destiny. I
+ended by giving it a soul to understand and answer me. I talked to it; I
+questioned. I sometimes said, "Who art thou?"
+
+Now I imagined a pale youth enamored with glory, and called him my
+brother. Then it was a young and lovely Antigone, laboring to sustain
+her old father, and I called her my sister, and by a sweeter name too.
+Finally, shall I tell you, there were moments when I fancied that the
+light of our fraternal lamps was but the radiance of two mysterious
+sympathies, drawn together to be blended into one.
+
+One must have passed two years in solitude to be able to comprehend
+these puerilities. How many prisoners have become attached to some
+wall-flower, blooming between the bars of their cell, like the Marvel of
+Peru of the garden, which closes to the beams of day to open its petals
+to the kisses of the evening; the flower that I loved was a star.
+Anxiously I watched its awakening, and could not repose until it had
+disappeared. Did it grow dim and flicker, I cried--"Courage and hope!
+God blesses labor, he keeps for thee a purer and brighter seat in
+heaven!"
+
+Did I in turn feel sad, it threw out a brighter light and a voice said,
+"Hope, friend, I watch and suffer with thee!" No! I cannot but believe
+now that between that lamp and mine there passed an electric current, by
+which two hearts, created for each other, communicated with and
+understood their mutual pulsations. Of course I tried to find the house
+and room from whence shone my beloved light, but each day I received a
+new direction that contradicted the one they gave before; so I concluded
+that the occupant of this room had an object, like myself, in
+concealment, and I respected his secret.
+
+Thus my life glided by--so much happiness lasted too short a time!
+
+The gods and goddesses of Olympus had a messenger named Iris, who
+carried their billets-doux from star to star. We mortals have a fairy in
+our employ that leaves Iris far behind; this fairy is called the post;
+dwell upon the summit of Tschamalouri, and some fine morning you will
+see the carrier arrive with his box upon his shoulder, and a letter to
+your address. One evening, on returning from one of those excursions I
+told you of, I found at my porter's a letter addressed to me. I never
+receive letters without a feeling of terror. This, the only one in two
+years, had a formidable look; the envelope was covered with odd-looking
+signs, and the seal of every French consulate in the East; under this
+multitude of stamps was written in large characters--"In haste--very
+important." The square of paper I held in my hand had been in search of
+me from Paris to Jerusalem, and from consulate to consulate, had
+returned from Jerusalem to Paris, to the office of the Minister of
+Foreign Affairs. There they had let loose some blood-hounds of the
+police, who with their usual instinct followed my tracks and discovered
+my abode in less than a day.
+
+I glanced first at the signature, and saw Frederick's name; I vow,
+unaffectedly, that for two years I had not thought of his affairs, and
+his letter brought me the first news of him.
+
+After a preamble, devoted entirely to the expression of an exaggerated
+gratitude, Frederick announced with a flourish of trumpets, that Fortune
+had made magnificent reparation for her wrongs to him; he had saved his
+honor and strengthened his tottering credit. From which time forward he
+had prospered beyond his wildest hopes. In a few months he gained, by a
+rise in railroad stocks, fabulous sums. He concluded with the
+information that, having interested me in his fortunate speculations, my
+capital was doubled, and that I now possessed a clear million, which I
+owed to no one. At the end of this letter, bristling with figures and
+terms that savoured of money, were a few simple, touching lines from
+Frederick's wife, which went straight to my heart, and brought tears to
+my eyes.
+
+When I had read the letter through, I took a long survey of my little
+room, where I had lived so happily; then, sitting upon the sill of the
+open window, whence I could see my faithful star shine peacefully in the
+darkness, I remained until morning, absorbed in sad and melancholy
+thoughts.
+
+Fortune has its duties as well as poverty. _Comme noblesse, fortune
+exige_.
+
+If I were really so rich, I could not, ought not to live as I had done.
+After a few days, I went to Frederick, who believed that I had suddenly
+been brought from Jerusalem by his letter, and I allowed him to rest in
+that belief, not wishing to add to a gratitude that already seemed
+excessive.
+
+Excuse the particulars, I was a veritable millionaire; I call Heaven to
+witness that my first impulse was to go in search of my beloved beacon,
+to relieve, if possible, the unfortunate one to whom it gave light.
+
+But then I thought so industrious a being was certainly proud, and I
+paused, fearing to offend a noble spirit.
+
+One month later, a night in May, I saw extinguished one by one, the
+thousand lights of the neighboring houses. Two single lamps burned in
+the gloom; they were the two old friends. For some time I stood gazing
+at the bright ray shining through the foliage, and when I felt upon my
+brow the first chill of the morning breeze, I cried in my saddened
+heart,
+
+"Farewell! farewell, little star, benign ray, beloved companion of my
+solitude! At this hour to-morrow, my eyes will seek but find thee not.
+And thou, whosoever thou art, working and suffering by that pale gleam,
+adieu, my sister! adieu, my brother! pursue thy destiny, watch and pray;
+may God shorten the time of thy probation."
+
+I bade also to my little room, not an eternal farewell, for I have kept
+it since, and will keep it all my life. I do not wish that while I live
+strangers shall scare away such a covey of beautiful dreams as I left in
+that humble nest.
+
+To see it again is one of the liveliest pleasures that my return to
+Paris offers. I shall find everything in the same order as when I left;
+but will the little star shine from the same corner of the heavens?
+
+Thanks to Frederick's care my affairs were in order, and I set out
+immediately for Rome, because when one is expected from the end of the
+world one must at least return from somewhere.
+
+Such is, dear Edgar, the history of my journeys and my love affairs.
+Keep them sacred. We are all so worthless, that, when one of us does
+some good by chance, he should remain silent for fear of humiliating his
+neighbor.
+
+My health once established, I shall go to my mountains of Creuse and
+then come to you. Do not expect me until July; at that time Don Quixote
+will make his appearance under the apple trees of Richeport, provided,
+however, he is not caught up on this route by Lady Penock or some
+windmill.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,
+Richeport,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, 24th May, 18--,
+
+Your letter did me good, my dear Edgar, because it came unexpected, from
+the domain of epistolary consolation. From any friend but you I would
+have received a sympathizing re-echo of my own accents of despair. From
+you I looked for a tranquillizing sedative, and you surprise me with a
+reanimating restorative.
+
+Your charming philosophy has indeed invented for mortals a remedy
+unknown to the four faculties.
+
+Thanks to you, I breathe freely this morning. 'Tis necessary for us to
+take breath during ardent crises of despair. A deep breath brings back
+the power of resignation to our hearts. Yet I am not duped by your too
+skilful friendship. I clearly perceive the interest you take in my
+situation in spite of your artistically labored adroitness to conceal
+it. This knowledge induces me to write you the second chapter of my
+history, quite sure that you will read it with a serious brow and answer
+it with a smiling pen.
+
+Young people of your disposition, either from deep calculation or by
+happy instinct, substitute caprice for passion; they amuse themselves by
+walking by the side of love, but never meet it face to face. For them
+women exist, but never one woman. This system with them succeeds for a
+season, sometimes it lasts for ever. I have known some old men who made
+this scheme the glory of their lives, and who kept it up from mere force
+of habit till their heads were white.
+
+You, my dear Edgar, will not have the benefit of final impenitence. At
+present the ardor of your soul is tempered by the suave indolence of
+your disposition.
+
+Love is the most merciless and wearisome of all labors, and you are far
+too lazy to toil at it. When you suddenly look into the secret depths
+of your _self_, you will be frightened by discovering the germ of a
+serious passion; then you will try to escape on the wings of fancy to
+the realms of easy and careless pleasure. The fact of my having
+penetrated, unknown to you, this secret recess of your soul, makes me
+venture to confide my sorrows to you; continue to laugh at them, your
+railing will be understood, while friendship will ignore the borrowed
+mask and trust in the faithful face beneath.
+
+Paris is still a desert. The largest and most populous city becomes
+obscure and insignificant at your feet when you view it from the heights
+of an all-absorbing passion. I feel as isolated as if I were on the
+South Sea or on the sands of Sahara. Happily our bodies assume
+mechanical habits that act instead of the will. Without this precious
+faculty of matter my isolation would lead me to a dreamy and stupid
+immobility. Thus, in the eyes of strangers, my life is always the same.
+They see no change in my manners and appearance; I keep up my
+acquaintances and pleasures and seek the society of my friends. I have
+not the heart to join a conversation, but leave it to be carried on by
+others. My fixed attention and absorbed manner of listening convey the
+idea that I am deeply interested in what is being said, and he who
+undertakes to relate anything to me is so satisfied with my style of
+listening that he prolongs to infinity his monologue. Then my thoughts
+take flight and travel around the world; to the seas, archipelagoes,
+continents and deserts I have visited. These are the only moments of
+relief that I enjoy, for I have the modesty to refrain from thinking of
+my love in the presence of others. I still possess enough innocence of
+heart to believe that the four letters of this sweetest of all words
+would be stamped on my brow in characters of fire, thus betraying a
+secret that indifference responds to with pitying smiles or heartless
+jeers.
+
+The thousand memories sown here and there in my peregrinations pass so
+vividly before me, that, standing in the bright sunlight, with eyes
+open, I dream over again those visions of my sleepless nights in foreign
+lands.
+
+Thought, ever-rebellious thought, which the most imperious will can
+neither check nor guide, begins to wander over the world, thus kindly
+granting a truce to the torments of my passions; then it works to suit
+my wishes, a complaisance it never shows me when I am alone. I am
+indebted for this relief to the officious and loquacious intervention of
+the first idler I meet, one whose name I scarcely know, although he
+calls me his friend. I always gaze with a feeling of compassionate
+benevolence upon the retreating steps of this unfortunate gossip, who
+leaves with the idea of having diverted me by his monologue to which my
+eyes alone have listened. As a general thing, people whom you meet have
+started out with one dominant idea or engrossing subject, and they
+imagine that the universe is disposed to attach the same importance to
+the matter that they themselves do. These expectations are often
+gratified, for the streets are filled by hungry listeners who wander
+around with ears outstretched, eager to share any and everybody's
+secrets.
+
+A serious passion reveals to us a world within a world. Thus far, all
+that I have seen and heard seems to be full of error; men and things
+assume aspects under which I fail to recognise them. It seems as though
+I had yesterday been born a second time, and that my first life has left
+me nothing but confused recollections, and in this chaos of the past, I
+vainly seek for a single rule of conduct for the present. I have dipped
+into books written on the passions; I have read every sentence,
+aphorism, drama, tragedy and romance written by the sages; I have sought
+among the heroes of history and of the stage for the human expression of
+a sentiment to which my own experience might respond, and which would
+serve me as a guide or consolation.
+
+I am, as it were, in a desert island where nothing betrays the passage
+of man, and I am compelled to dwell there without being able to trace
+the footsteps of those who have gone before. Yesterday I was present at
+the representation of the _Misanthrope_. I said to myself, here is a man
+in love; his character is drawn by a master hand, they say; he listens
+to sonnets, hums a little song, disputes with a bad author, discourses
+at length with his rivals, sustains a philosophical disputation with a
+friend, is churlish to the woman he loves, and finally is consoled by
+saying he will hide himself from the eyes of the world.
+
+I would erect, at my own expense, a monument to Molière if Alceste would
+make my love take this form.
+
+I have never seen an inventory of the torments of love--some of them
+have the most vulgar and some the most innocent names in the world. Some
+poet make his love-sick hero say:--
+
+  "Un jour, Dieu, par pitié, délivra les enfers
+  Des tourments que pour vous, madame, j'ai soufferts!"
+
+I thought the poet intended to develop his idea, but unfortunately the
+tirade here ends. 'Tis always very vague, cloudy poetry that describes
+unknown torments; it seems to be a popular style, however, for all the
+poetry of the present day is confined to misty complaints in cloudy
+language. No moralist is specific in his sorrows. All lovers cry out in
+chorus that they suffer horribly. Each suffering deserves an analysis
+and a name. By way of example, my dear Edgar, I will describe one
+torment that I am sure you have never known or even heard of, happy
+mortal that you are!
+
+The headquarters of this torment is at the office of the Poste-Restante,
+on Jean-Jacques-Rousseau street. The lovers in _la Nouvelle Héloise_
+never mentioned this place of torture, although they wrote so many
+love-letters.
+
+I have opened a correspondence with three of my servants--this
+torture, however, is not the one to which I allude. These three men, at
+this present moment, are sojourning in the three neighboring towns in
+which Mlle. de Chateaudun has acquaintances, relations or friends. One
+of these towns is Fontainebleau, where she first went when she left
+Paris. I have charged them to be very circumspect in obtaining all the
+information they can concerning her movements. Her mysterious retreat
+must be in one of these three localities, so I watch them all. I told
+them to direct all my letters to the Poste-Restante.
+
+My porter, with the cunning sagacity of his profession, imagines he has
+discovered some scandalous romance, because he brings me every day a
+letter in the handwriting of my valet. You may imagine the complication
+of my torment. I am afraid of my porter, therefore I go myself to the
+post-office, that receptacle of all the secrets of Paris.
+
+Usually the waiting-room is full of wretched men, each an epistolary
+Tantalus, who, with eyes fixed on the wooden grating, implore the clerk
+for a post-marked deception. 'Tis a sad spectacle, and I am sure that
+there is a post-office in purgatory, where tortured souls go to inquire
+if their deliverance has been signed in heaven.
+
+The clerks in the post-office never seem to be aware of the impatient
+murmurs around them. What administrative calmness beams on the fresh
+faces of these distributors of consolation and of despair! In the agony
+of waiting, minutes lose their mathematical value, and the hands of the
+clock become motionless on the dial like impaled serpents. The
+operations of the office proceed with a slowness that seems like a
+miniature eternity. This anxious crowd stand in single file, forming a
+living chain of eager notes of interrogation, and, as fate always
+reserves the last link for me, I have to witness the filing-off of these
+troubled souls. This office brings men close together, and obliterates
+all social distinctions; in default of letters one always receives
+lessons of equality gratis.
+
+Here you see handsome young men whose dishevelled locks and pale faces
+bear traces of sleepless nights--the Damocles of the Bourse, who feels
+the sword of bankruptcy hanging over his head--forsaken sweethearts,
+whose hopes wander with beating drums upon African shores--timid women
+veiled in black, weeping and mourning for the dead, so as to smile more
+effectively upon the living.
+
+If each person were to call out the secret of his letter, the clerks
+themselves would veil their faces and forget the postal alphabet. A
+painful silence reigns over this scene of anxious waiting; at long
+intervals a hoarse voice calls out his Christian name, and woe to its
+owner if his ancestors have not bequeathed him a short or easily
+pronounced one.
+
+The other day I was present at a strange scene caused by the association
+of seven syllables. An unhappy-looking wretch went up to the railing and
+gave out his name--_Sidoine Tarboriech_--these two words inflicted on us
+the following dialogue:--"Is it all one name?" asked the clerk, without
+deigning to glance at the unfortunate owner of these syllables. "Two
+names," said the man, timidly, as if he were fully aware of the disgrace
+inflicted upon him at the baptismal font. "Did you say _Antoine_?" said
+the clerk. "Sidoine, Monsieur." "Is it your Christian name?" "'Tis the
+name of my godfather, Saint Sidoine, 23 of August." "Ah! there is a
+Saint Sidoine, is there? Well, Sidoine ... Sidoine--what else?"
+"Tarboriech." "Are you a German?" "From Toulon, opposite the Arsenal."
+
+During this dialogue the rest of the unfortunates broke their chain with
+convulsive impatience, and made the floor tremble under the nervous
+stamping of their feet. The clerk calmly turned over with his
+methodically bent finger, a large bundle of letters, and would
+occasionally pause when the postal hieroglyphics effaced an address
+under a total eclipse of crests, seals and numbers recklessly heaped on;
+for the clerk who posts and endorses the letters takes great pains to
+cover the address with a cloud of ink, this little peculiarity all
+postmen delight in. But to return to our dialogue: "Excuse me, sir,"
+said the clerk, "did you say your name is spelt with _Dar_ or _Tar_?"
+"_Tar_, sir, _Tar!_ "--"With a _D?_"--"No, sir, with a _T.,
+Tarboriech!_" "We have nothing for you, sir." "Oh, sir, impossible!
+there certainly _must_ be a letter for me." "There is no letter, sir;
+nothing commencing with T." "Did you look for my Christian name,
+Sidoine?" "But, sir, we don't arrange the mail according to Christian
+names." "But you know, sir, I am a younger son, and at home I am called
+Sidoine."
+
+This interesting dialogue was now drowned by the angry complaining of
+some young men, who in a state of exasperation stamped up and down the
+room jerking out an epigrammatic psalm of lamentations. I'll give you a
+few verses of it: "Heavens! some names ought to be suppressed! This is
+getting to be intolerable, when a man has the misfortune to be named
+_Extasboriech_, he ought _not_ to have his letters sent to the
+_Poste_-Restante! If I were afflicted with such a name, I would have the
+Keeper of the Seals to change it."
+
+The imperturbable clerk smiled blandly through his little barred window,
+and said, "Gentlemen, we must do our duty scrupulously, I only do for
+this gentleman what each of you would wish done for yourself under
+similar circumstances."
+
+"Oh, of course!" cried out one young man, who was wildly buttoning and
+unbuttoning his coat as if he wanted to fight the subject through; "but
+we are not cursed with names so abominable as this man's!"
+
+"Gentlemen," said the clerk, "no offensive personalities, I beg." Then
+turning to the miserable culprit, he continued: "Can you tell me, sir,
+from what place you expect a letter?" "From Lavalette, monsieur, in the
+province of Var." "Very good; and you think that perhaps your Christian
+name only is on the address--Sidoine?"
+
+"My cousin always calls me Sidoine."
+
+"His cousin is right," said a sulky voice in the corner.
+
+This, my dear Edgar, is a sample of the non-classified tortures that I
+suffer every morning in this den of expiation, before I, the last one of
+all, can reach the clerk's sanctuary; once there I assume a careless air
+and gay tone of voice as I negligently call out my name. No doubt you
+think this a very simple, easy thing to do, but first listen a moment: I
+felt the "Star" gradually sinking under me near the Malouine Islands,
+the sixty-eighth degree of latitude kept me a prisoner in its sea of ice
+at the South Pole; I passed two consecutive days and nights on board the
+_Esmerelda_, between fire and inundation; and if I were to extract the
+quintessence of the agonies experienced upon these three occasions it
+could never equal the intense torture I suffer at the Poste-Restante.
+Three seals broken, three letters opened, three overwhelming
+disappointments! Nothing! nothing! nothing! Oh miserable synonym of
+despair! Oh cruel type of death! Why do you appear before me each day
+as if to warn my foolish heart that all hope is dead! Then how dreary
+and empty to me is this cold, unfeeling world we move in! I feel
+oppressed by the weight of my sorrowful yearning that hourly grows more
+unbearable and more hopeless; my lungs seem filled with leaden air, and
+all the blood in my heart stands still. In thinking of the time that
+must be dragged through till this same hour to-morrow, I feel neither
+the strength nor courage to endure it with its intolerable succession of
+eternal minutes. How can I bridge over this gulf of twenty-four hours
+that divides to-day from to-morrow? How false are all the ancient and
+modern allegories, invented to afflict man with the knowledge that his
+days are rapidly passing away! How foolish is that wisdom that mourns
+over our fugitive years as being nothing but a few short minutes! I
+would give all my fortune to be able to write the _Hora Fugit_ of the
+poet, and offer for the first time to man these two words as an axiom of
+immutable truth.
+
+There is nothing absolutely true in all the writings of the sages.
+Figures even, in their inexorable and systematic order, have their
+errors just as often as do words and apothems. An hour of pain and an
+hour of pleasure have no resemblance to each other save on the dial.
+_My_ hours are weary years.
+
+You understand then, my dear Edgar, that I write you these long letters,
+not to please you, but to relieve my own mind. In writing to you I
+divert my attention from painful contemplation, and expatriate my ideas.
+A pen is the only instrument capable of killing time when time wishes to
+kill us. A pen is the faithless auxiliary of thought; unknown to us it
+sometimes penetrates the secret recesses of our hearts, where we
+flattered ourselves the horizon of our sorrows was hid from the world.
+
+Thus, if you discover in my letter any symptoms of mournful gayety, you
+may know they are purely pen-fancies. I have no connection with them
+except that my fingers guide the pen.
+
+Sometimes I determine to abandon Paris and bury myself in some rural
+retreat, where lonely meditation may fill my sorrowing heart with the
+balm of oblivion; but in charity to myself I wish to avoid the absurdity
+of this self-deception. Nothing is more hurtful than trying a useless
+remedy, for it destroys your confidence in all other remedies, and fills
+your soul with despair. Then, again, Paris is peculiarly fitted for
+curing these nameless maladies--'tis the modern Thebais, deserted
+because 'tis crowded--silent because 'tis noisy; there, every man can
+pitch his tent and nurse his favorite sorrows without being disturbed by
+intruders. Solitude is the worst of companions when you wish to drown
+the past in Lethe's soothing stream. However, 'tis useless for me to
+reason in this apparently absurd way in order to compel myself to remain
+in the heart of this great city, for I cannot and must not quit Paris at
+present; 'tis the central point of my operations; here I can act with
+the greatest efficacy in the combinations of my searches--to leave Paris
+is to break the threads of my labyrinth. Besides, my duties as a man of
+the world impose cruel tortures upon me; if fate continues to work
+against me and I am compelled to retire from the world, the consolation
+of having escaped these social tortures will be mine; so you see, after
+all, there is a silver lining to my dark cloud. When we cannot attain
+good we can mitigate the evil.
+
+Last Thursday Countess L. opened the season with an unusual event--a
+betrothment ball. Her select friends were invited to a sort of rehearsal
+of the wedding party; her beautiful cousin is to be married to our young
+friend Didier, whom we named Scipio Africanus. Marshal Bugeaud has given
+him a six-months' leave, and healed his wounded shoulder with a
+commander's epaulette.
+
+Now, I know you will agree with me that my presence was necessary at
+this ball. I nerved myself for this new agony, and arrived there in the
+middle of a quadrille. Never did a comedian, stepping on the stage,
+study his manner and assume a gay look with more care than I did as I
+entered the room. I glided through the figures of the dance, and reached
+the further end of the ball-room which was filled with gossiping
+dowagers. Now I began to play my rôle of a happy man.
+
+Everybody knows I am weak enough to enjoy a ball with all the passion
+of a young girl, therefore I willingly joined the dancers. I selected a
+sinfully ugly woman, so as to direct my devotions to the antipodes of
+beauty--the more unlike Irene the better for me. My partner possessed
+that charming wit that generally accompanies ideal ugliness in a woman.
+We talked, laughed, danced with foolish gayety--each note of the music
+was accompanied by a witticism--we exchanged places and sallies at the
+same time--we invented a new style of conversation, very preferable to
+the dawdling gossip of a drawing-room. There is an exhilaration
+attending a conversation carried on with your feet flying and
+accompanied by delightful music; every eye gazed at us; every ear, in
+the whirl of the dance, almost touched our lips and caught what we said.
+Our gayety seemed contagious, and the whole room smiled approval. My
+partner was radiant with joy; the fast moving of her feet, the
+excitement of her mind, the exaltation of triumph, the halo of wit had
+transfigured this woman; she positively appeared handsome!
+
+For one instant I forgot my despair in the happy thought that I had just
+done the noblest deed of my life; I had danced with a wall-flower, whose
+only crime was her ugliness, and had changed her misery into bliss by
+rendering her all the intoxicating ovations due only to beauty.
+
+But alas! there was a fatal reaction awaiting me. Glancing across the
+room I intercepted the tender looks of two lovers, looks of mutual love
+that brought me back to my own misery, and made my heart bleed afresh at
+the thought that love like this might have been mine! What is more
+touchingly beautiful than the sight of a betrothed couple who exist in a
+little world of their own, and, ignoring the indifferent crowd around
+them, gaze at each other with such a wealth of love and trust in the
+future! I brought this image of a promised but lost happiness home with
+me. Oh! if I could blame Irene I would console myself by flying in a fit
+of legitimate anger! but this resource fails me--I can blame no one but
+myself. Irene knows not how dear she is to me, I only half told her of
+my love,--I flattered myself that I had a long future in which to prove
+my devotion by deeds instead of words. Had she known how deeply I loved
+her, she never could have deserted me.
+
+Your unhappy friend,
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street (Paris).
+
+Richeport, May 26th 18--.
+
+Dear Roger:--You have understood me. I did not wish to annoy you with
+hackneyed condolences or sing with you an elegiac duet; but I have not
+the less sympathized with your sorrows; I have even evolved a system out
+of them. Were I forsaken, I should deplore the blindness of the
+unfortunate creature who could renounce the happiness of possessing me,
+and congratulate myself upon getting rid of a heart unworthy of me.
+Besides, I have always felt grateful to those benevolent beauties who
+take upon themselves the disagreeable task of breaking off an
+engagement. At first, there is a slight feeling of wounded self-love,
+but as I have for some time concluded that the world contains an
+infinity of beings endowed with charms superior to mine, it only lasts a
+moment, and if the scratch bleed a little, I consider myself indemnified
+by a tirade against woman's bad taste. Since you do not possess this
+philosophy, Mlle. de Chateaudun must be found, at any cost; you know my
+principles: I have a profound respect for any genuine passion. We will
+not discuss the merits or the faults of Irene; you desire her, that
+suffices; you shall have her, or I will lose the little Malay I learnt
+in Java when I went to see those dancing-girls, whose preference has
+such a disastrous effect upon Europeans. Your secret police is about to
+be increased by a new spy; I espouse your anger, and place myself
+entirely at the service of your wrath. I know some of the relatives of
+Mlle. de Chateaudun, who has connections in the neighboring departments,
+and in your behalf I have beaten about the châteaux for many miles
+around. I have not yet found what I am searching for; but I have
+discovered in the dullest houses a number of pretty faces who would ask
+nothing better, dear Roger, than to console you, that is if you are not,
+like Rachel, refusing to be comforted; for if there be no lack of women
+always ready to decoy a successful lover, some can, also, be found
+disposed to undertake the cure of a profound despair; these are the
+services which the best friends cheerfully render. I will only permit
+myself to ask you one question. Are you sure, before abandoning yourself
+to the violence of an invisible grief, that Mlle. de Chateaudun has ever
+existed? If she exists, she cannot have evaporated! The diamond alone
+ascends entire to heaven and disappears, leaving no trace behind. One
+cannot abstract himself, in this way, like a quintessence from a
+civilized centre; in 18--the suppression of any human being seems to me
+impossible. Mademoiselle Irene has been too well brought up to throw
+herself into the water like a grisette; if she had done so, the zephyrs
+would have borne ashore her cloak or her umbrella; a woman's bonnet,
+when it comes from Beaudrand, always floats. Perhaps she wishes to
+subject you to some romantic ordeal to see if you are capable of dying
+of grief for her; do not gratify her so far. Double your serenity and
+coolness, and, if need be, paint like a dowager; it is necessary to
+sustain before these affected dames the dignity of the uglier sex of
+which we have the honor of forming a part. I approve the position you
+have taken. The Pale Faces should bear moral torture with the same
+impassiveness with which the Red Skins endure physical torture.
+
+Roaming about in your interests, I had the beginning of an adventure
+which I must recount to you. It does not relate to a duchess, I warn
+you; I leave those sort of freaks to republicans. In love-making, I
+value beauty solely, it is the only aristocracy I look for; pretty women
+are baronesses, charming ones countesses; beauties become marchionesses,
+and I recognise a queen by her hands and not by her sceptre, by her brow
+and not by her crown. Such is my habit. Beyond this I am without
+prejudice; I do not disdain princesses provided they are as handsome as
+simple peasants.
+
+I had a presentiment that Alfred intended paying me a visit, and with
+that wonderful acuteness which characterizes me, I said to myself: If he
+comes here, hospitality will force me to endure the agony of his
+presence as long as he pleases to impose it upon me, a torture forgotten
+in Dante's Hell; if I go to see him the situation is reversed. I can
+leave under the first indispensable pretext, that will not fail to offer
+itself, three days after my arrival, and I thus deprive him of all
+motive for invading my wigwam at Richeport. Whereupon I went to Nantes,
+where his relatives reside, with whom he is passing the summer.
+
+At the expiration of four hours I suddenly remembered that most urgent
+business recalled me to my mother; but what was my anguish, when I saw
+my execrable friend accompany me to the railroad station, in a traveling
+suit, a cap on his head, a valise under his arm! Happily, he was going
+to Havre by way of Rouen, and I was relieved from all fear of invasion.
+
+At this juncture, my dear friend, endeavor to tear yourself away, for a
+moment, from the contemplation of your grief, and take some interest in
+my story. To so distinguished a person as yourself it has at least the
+advantage of beginning in an entirely homely and prosaic manner. I
+should never have committed the error of writing you anything
+extraordinary; you are surfeited with the incredible; the supernatural
+is a twice-told tale; between you and the marvellous secret affinities
+exist; miracles hunt you up; you find yourself in conjunction with
+phenomena; what never happens has happened to you; and in the world that
+you, in every sense, have wandered o'er, no novelty offers itself but
+the common-place.
+
+The first time you ever attempted to do anything like other people--to
+marry--you failed. Your only talent is for the impossible; therefore, I
+hope that my recital, a little after the style of Paul de Kock's
+romances, an author admired by great ladies and kitchen girls, will give
+you infinite surprise and possess all the attraction and freshness of
+the unknown.
+
+There were already two persons in the compartment into which the
+conductor hurried us; two women, one old and the other young.
+
+To prevent Alfred from playing the agreeable, I took possession of the
+corner fronting the youngest, leaving to my tiresome friend the freezing
+perspective of the older woman.
+
+You know I have no fancy for sustaining what is called the honor of
+French gallantry--a gallantry which consists in wearying with ill-timed
+attention, with remarks upon the rain and the fine weather, interlarded
+with a thousand and one stupid rhymes, the women forced by circumstances
+to travel alone.
+
+I settled myself in my corner after making a slight bow on perceiving
+the presence of women in the car, one of whom evidently merited the
+attention of every young commercial traveler and troubadour. I set
+myself to examine my vis-a-vis, dividing my attention between
+picturesque studies and studies physiognomical.
+
+The result of my picturesque observations was that I never saw so many
+poppies before. Probably they were the red sparks from the locomotive
+taking root and blooming along the road.
+
+My physiognomical studies were more extended, and, without flattering
+myself, I believe Lavater himself would have approved them.
+
+The cowl does not make the friar, but dress makes the woman. I shall
+begin by giving you an extremely detailed description of the toilet of
+my incognita. This is an accustomed method, which proves that it is a
+good one, since everybody makes use of it. My fair unknown wore neither
+a bark blanket fastened about her waist, nor rings in her nose, nor
+bracelets on her ankles, nor rings on her toes, which must appear
+extraordinary to you.
+
+She wore, perhaps, the only costume that your collection lacks, that of
+a Parisian grisette. You, who know by heart the name of every article of
+a Hottentot's attire, who are strong upon Esquimaux fashions and know
+just how many rows of pins a Patagonian of the haut ton wears in her
+lower lip, have never thought of sketching such an one.
+
+A well-approved description of a grisette should commence with her foot.
+The grisette is the Andalouse of Paris; she possesses the talent of
+being able to pass through the mire of Lutetia on tiptoe, like a dancer
+who studies her steps, without soiling her white stockings with a single
+speck of mud. The manolas of Madrid, the cigaretas of Seville in their
+satin slippers are not better shod; mine--pardon the anticipation of
+this possessive pronoun--put forward from under the seat an
+irreproachable boot and aristocratically turned ankle. If she would give
+me that graceful buskin to place in my museum beside the shoe of
+Carlotta Grisi, the Princess Houn-Gin's boot and Gracia of Grenada's
+slipper, I would fill it with gold or sugar-plums, as she pleased.
+
+As to her dress, I acknowledge, without any feeling of mortification,
+that it was of mousseline; but the secret of its making was preserved by
+the modiste. It was tight and easy at the same time, a perfect fit
+attained by Palmyre in her moments of inspiration; a black silk
+mantilla, a little straw bonnet trimmed plainly with ribbon, and a green
+gauze veil, half thrown back, completed the adornment, or rather absence
+of ornament, of this graceful creature.
+
+Heavens! I had like to have forgotten the gloves! Gloves are the weak
+point of a grisette's costume. To be fresh, they must be renewed often,
+but they cost the price of two days' work. Hers were, O horror!
+imitation Swedish, which truth compels me to value at nineteen
+ha'-pennies, or ninety-five centimes, to conform to the new monetary
+phraseology.
+
+A worsted work-bag, half filled, was placed beside her. What could it
+hold? Some circulating library novel? Do not be uneasy, the bag only
+contained a roll and a paper of bonbons from Boissier, dainties which
+play an important part in my story.
+
+Now I must draw you an exact sketch of this pretty Parisian's face--for
+such she was. A Parisian alone could wear, with such grace, a
+fifteen-franc bonnet.
+
+I abhor bonnets; nevertheless, on some occasions, I am forced to
+acknowledge that they produce quite a pleasing effect. They represent a
+kind of queer flower, whose core is formed of a woman's head; a
+full-blown rose, which, in the place of stamens and pistils, bears
+glances and smiles.
+
+The half-raised veil of my fair unknown only exposed to view a chin of
+perfect mould, a little strawberry mouth and half of her nose, perhaps
+three-quarters. What pretty, delicately turned nostrils, pink as the
+shells of the South Sea! The upper part of the face was bathed in a
+transparent, silvery shadow, under which the quiver of the eyelids might
+be imagined and the liquid fire of her glance. As to her cheeks--you
+must await the succession of events if you desire more ample
+description; for the ears of her bonnet, drawn down by the strings,
+concealed their contour; what could be seen of them was of a delicate
+rose color. Her eyes and hair will form a special paragraph.
+
+Now that you are sufficiently enlightened upon the subject of the
+perspective which your friend enjoyed on the cars between Mantes and
+Pont-de-l'Arche, I will pass to another exercise, highly recommended in
+rhetorical treatises, and describe, by way of a set-off and contrast,
+the female monster that served as shadow to this ideal grisette.
+
+This frightful companion appeared very suspicious. Was she the duenna,
+the mother or an old relative? At any rate she was very ugly, not
+because her head was like a stone mask with spiral eyebrows, and lips
+slashed like the fossa of a heraldic dolphin, but vulgarity had stamped
+the mask, making its features common, coarse and dull. The habit of
+servile compliance had deprived them of all true expression; she
+squinted, her smile was vaguely stupid, and she wore an air of spurious
+good-nature, indicative of country birth; a dark merino dress, cloak of
+sombre hue, a bonnet under which stood out the many ruffles of a rumpled
+cap, completed the attire of the creature.
+
+The grisette is a gay, chattering bird, which at fifteen escapes from
+the nest never to return; it is not her custom to drag about a mother
+after her, this is the special mania of actresses who resort to all
+sorts of tricks ignored by the proud and independent grisette. The
+grisette seems instinctively to know that the presence of an old woman
+about a young one exerts an unhealthy influence. It suggests sorcery and
+the witches' vigil; snails seek roses only to spread their slime over
+them, and old age only approaches youth from a discreditable motive.
+
+This woman was not the mother of my incognita; so sweet a flower could
+not grow upon such a rugged bush. I heard the antique say in the
+humblest tone, "Mlle, if you wish, I will put down the blind; the
+cinders might hurt you."
+
+Doubtless she was some relative; for a grisette never has a companion,
+and duennas pertain exclusively to Spanish infantas.
+
+Was my grisette simply an adventuress, graced by a hired mother to give
+her an air of respectability? No, there was the seal of simple honesty
+stamped upon her whole person; a care in the details of her simple
+toilet, which separated her from that venturous class. A wandering
+princess would not show such exactitude in her dress; she would betray
+herself by a ragged shawl worn over a new dress, by silk stockings with
+boots down at heel, by something ripped and out of order. Besides, the
+old woman did not take snuff nor smell of brandy.
+
+I made these observations in less time than it takes to write them,
+through Alfred's inexhaustible chatter, who imagines, like many people,
+that you are vexed if the conversation flags an instant. Besides,
+between you and me, I think he wished to impress these women with an
+idea of his importance, for he talked to me of the whole world. I do not
+know how it happened, but this whirlwind of words seemed to interest my
+incognita, who had all along remained quietly ensconced in her corner.
+The few words uttered by her were not at all remarkable; an observation
+upon a mass of great black clouds piled up in a corner of the horizon
+that threatened a shower; but I was charmed with the fresh and silvery
+tone of her voice. The music of the words--it is going to
+rain--penetrated my soul like an air from Bellini, and I felt something
+stir in my heart, which, well cultivated, might turn into love.
+
+The locomotive soon devoured the distance between Mantos and Pont de
+l'Arche. An abominable scraping of iron and twisting of brakes was
+heard, and the train stopped. I was terribly alarmed lest the grisette
+and her companion should continue their route, but they got out at the
+station. O Roger wasn't I a happy dog? While they were employed in
+hunting up some parcel, the vehicle which runs between the station and
+Pont de l'Arche left, weighed down with trunks and travellers; so that
+the two women and myself were compelled, in spite of the weather, to
+walk to Pont de l'Arche. Large drops began to sprinkle the dust. One of
+those big black clouds which I mentioned opened, and long streams of
+rain fell from its gloomy folds like arrows from an overturned quiver.
+
+A moss-covered shed, used to put away farming implements, odd
+cart-wheels, performed for us the same service as the classic grotto
+which sheltered Eneas and Dido under similar circumstances. The wild
+branches of the hawthorn and sweet-briar added to the rusticity of our
+asylum.
+
+My unknown, although visibly annoyed by this delay, resigned herself to
+her fate, and watched the rain falling in torrents. O Robinson Crusoe,
+how I envied you, at that moment, your famous goat-skin umbrella! how
+gracefully would I have offered its shelter to this beauty as far as
+Pont de l'Arche, for she was going to Pont de l'Arche, right into the
+lion's mouth. Time passed. The vehicle would not return until the next
+train was due, that is in five or six hours; I had not told them to come
+for me; our situation was most melancholy.
+
+My infanta opened daintily her little bag, took from it a roll and some
+bonbons, which she began to eat in the most graceful manner imaginable,
+but having breakfasted before leaving Mantes, I was dying of hunger; I
+suppose I must have looked covetously at her provisions, for she began
+to laugh and offered me half of her pittance, which I accepted. In the
+division, I don't know how it happened, but my hand touched hers--she
+drew it quickly away, and bestowed upon me a look of such royal disdain
+that I said to myself--This young girl is destined for the dramatic
+profession,--she plays the Marguerites and the Clytemnestras in the
+provinces until she possesses _embonpoint_ enough to appear at Porte
+Saint Martin or the Odeon. This vampire is her dresser--everything was
+clear.
+
+I promised you a paragraph upon her eyes and hair; her eyes were a
+changeable gray, sometimes blue, sometimes green, according to the
+expression and the light; her chestnut locks were separated in two
+glossy braids, half satin, half velvet--many a great lady would have
+paid high for such hair.
+
+The shower over, a wild resolution was unanimously taken to set out on
+foot for Pont de l'Arche, notwithstanding the mud and the puddles.
+
+Having entered into the good graces of the infanta by speech full of
+wisdom and gesture carefully guarded, we set out together, the old woman
+following a few steps behind, and the marvellous little boot arrived at
+its destination without being soiled the least in the world--grisettes
+are perfect partridges--the house of Madame Taverneau, the
+post-mistress, where my incognita stopped.
+
+You are a prince of very little penetration, dear Roger, if you have not
+divined that you will receive a letter from me every day, and even two,
+if I have to send empty envelopes or recopy the Complete Letter Writer.
+To whom will I not write? No minister of state will ever have so
+extended a correspondence.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+PONT DE L'ARCHE, May 29th 18--.
+
+Valentine, this time I rebel, and question your infallibility.
+
+It is useless for you to say to me, "You do not love him." I tell you I
+do love him, and intend to marry him. Nevertheless you excite my
+admiration in pronouncing against me this very well-turned sentence.
+"Genuine and fervid love is not so ingenuous. When you love deeply, you
+respect the object of your devotion and are fearful of giving offence by
+daring to test him.
+
+"When you love sincerely you are not so venturesome. It is so necessary
+for you to trust him, that you treasure up your faith and risk it not in
+suspicious trifling.
+
+"Real love is timid, it would rather err than suspect, it buries doubts
+instead of nursing them, and very wisely, for love cannot survive
+faith."
+
+This is a magnificent period, and you should send it to Balzac; he
+delights in filling his novels with such very woman-like phrases.
+
+I admit that your ideas are just and true when applied to love alone;
+but if this love is to end in marriage, the "test" is no longer
+"suspicious trifling," and one has the right to try the constancy of a
+character without offending the dignity of love.
+
+Marriage, and especially a marriage of inclination, is so serious a
+matter, that we cannot exercise too much prudence and reasonable delay
+before taking the final step.
+
+You say, "Love is timid;" well, so is Hymen. One dares not lightly utter
+the irrevocable promise, "Thine for life!" these words make us hesitate.
+
+When we wish to be honorable and faithfully keep our oaths, we pause a
+little before we utter them.
+
+Now I can hear you exclaim, "You are not in love; if you were, instead
+of being frightened by these words, they would reassure you; you would
+be quick to say 'Thine for life,' and you could never imagine that there
+existed any other man you could love."
+
+I am aware that this gives you weapons to be used against me; I know I
+am foolish! but--well, I feel that there is some one somewhere that I
+could love more deeply!
+
+This silly idea sometimes makes me pause and question, but it grows
+fainter daily, and I now confess that it is folly, childish to cherish
+such a fancy. In spite of your opinion, I persist in believing that I am
+in love with Roger. And when you know him, you will understand how
+natural it is for me to love him.
+
+I would at this very moment be talking to him in Paris but for you!
+Don't be astonished, for your advice prevented my returning to Paris
+yesterday.
+
+Alas! I asked you for aid, and you add to my anxiety.
+
+I left the hotel de Langeac with a joyful heart. The test will be
+favorable, thought I,--and when I have seen Roger in the depths of
+despair for a few days, seeking me everywhere, impatiently expecting me,
+blaming me a little and regretting me deeply, I will suddenly appear
+before him, happy and smiling! I will say, "Roger, you love me; I left
+you to think of you from afar, to question my own heart--to try the
+strength of your devotion; I now return without fear and with renewed
+confidence in myself and in you; never again shall we be separated!"
+
+I intend to frankly confess everything to him; but you say the
+confession will be fatal to me. "If you intend to marry M. de Moubert,
+for Heaven's sake keep him in ignorance of the motive of your departure;
+invent an excuse--be called off to perform a duty--to nurse a sick
+friend; choose any story you please, rather than let him suspect you ran
+away to experiment upon the degree of his love."
+
+You add, "he loves you devotedly and never will he forgive you for
+inflicting on him these unnecessary sufferings; a proud and deserving
+love never pardons suspicious and undeserved trials of its faith."
+
+Now what can I do? Invent a falsehood? All falsehoods are stupid! Then I
+would have to write it, for I could not undertake to lie to his face.
+With strangers and people indifferent to me, I might manage it; but to
+look into the face of the man who loves me, who gazes so honestly into
+my eyes when I speak to him, who understands every expression of my
+countenance, who observes and admires the blush that flushes my cheek,
+who is familiar with every modulation of my voice, as a musician with
+the tones of his instrument--
+
+Why, it is a moral impossibility to attempt such a thing! A forced
+smile, a false tone, would put him on his guard at once; he becomes
+suspicious.
+
+At his first question my fine castle of lies vanishes into air, and I
+have to fall back on the unvarnished truth.
+
+To gratify you, Valentine, I will lie, but lie at a distance. I feel
+that it is necessary to put many stations and provinces between my
+native candor and the people I am to deceive.
+
+Why do you scold me so much? You must see that I have not acted
+thoughtlessly; my conduct is strange, eccentric and mysterious to no one
+but Roger.
+
+To every one else it is perfectly proper. I am supposed to be in the
+neighborhood of Fontainebleau, with the Duchess de Langeac, at her
+daughter's house; and as the poor girl is very sick and receives no
+company, I can disappear for a short time without my absence calling
+forth remark, or raising an excitement in the country.
+
+I have told my cousin a part of the truth--she understands my scruples
+and doubts. She thinks it very natural that I should wish to consider
+the matter over before engaging myself for life; she knows that I am
+staying with an old friend, and as I have promised to return home in two
+weeks, she is not a bit uneasy about me.
+
+"My child," she said when we parted, "if you decide to marry, I will go
+with you to Paris; if not, you shall go with us to enjoy the waters of
+Aix." I have discovered that Aix is a good place to learn news of our
+friends in Isère. You also reproach me for not having told Roger all my
+troubles; for having hidden from him what you flatteringly call "the
+most beautiful pages of my life."
+
+O, Valentine! in this matter I am wiser than you, in spite of your
+matronly experience and acknowledged wisdom. Doubtless you understand
+better than I do, the serious affairs of life, but about the
+frivolities, I think I know best, and I tell you that courage in a woman
+is not an attraction in the eyes of these latter-day beaux.
+
+Their weak minds, with an affected nicety, prefer a sighing,
+supplicating coquette, decked in pretty ribbons, surrounded by luxuries
+that are the price of her dignity; one who pours her sorrows into the
+lover's ear--yes! I say they prefer such a one to a noble woman who
+bravely faces misery with proud resignation, who refuses the favors of
+those she despises, and calm, strong, self-reliant, waters with her
+tears her hard-earned bread.
+
+Believe me, men are more inclined to love women they can pity than women
+they must admire and respect; feminine courage in adversity is to them a
+disagreeable picture in an ugly frame; that is to say, a poorly dressed
+woman in a poorly furnished room. So you now see why, not wishing to
+disgust my future husband, I was careful that he should not see this
+ugly picture.
+
+Ah! you speak to me of my dear ideal, and you say you love him? Ah! to
+him alone could I fearlessly read these beautiful pages of my life. But
+let us banish him from our minds; I would forget him!
+
+Once I was very near betraying myself; my cousin and I called on a
+Russian lady residing in furnished apartments on Rivoli street.
+
+M. de Monbert was there--as I took a seat near the fire, the Countess R.
+handed me a screen--I at once recognised a painting of my own. It
+represented Paul and Virginia gardening with Domingo.
+
+How horrible did all three look! Time and dust had curiously altered the
+faces of my characters; by an inexplicable phenomenon Virginia and
+Domingo had changed complexions; Virginia was a negress, and Domingo was
+enfranchised, bleached, he had cast aside the tint of slavery and was a
+pure Caucasian. The absurdity of the picture made me laugh, and M. de
+Monbert inquired the cause of my merriment. I showed him the screen, and
+he said "How very horrible!" and I was about to add "I painted it," when
+some one interrupted us, and so prevented the betrayal of my secret.
+
+You will not have to scold me any more; I am going to take your advice
+and leave Pont de l'Arche to-day. Oh I how I wish I were in Paris this
+minute! I am dreadfully tired of this little place, it is so wearying to
+play poverty.
+
+When I was really poor, the modest life I had to lead, the cruel
+privations I had to suffer, seemed to me to be noble and dignified.
+
+Misery has its grandeur, and every sorrow has its poetry; but when the
+humility of life is voluntary and privations mere caprices, misery loses
+all its prestige, and the romantic sufferings we needlessly impose on
+ourselves, are intolerable, because there is no courage or merit in
+enduring them.
+
+This sentiment I feel must be natural, for my old companion in
+misfortune, my good and faithful Blanchard, holds the same views that I
+do. You know how devoted she was to me during my long weary days of
+trouble!
+
+She faithfully served me three years with no reward other than the
+approval of her own conscience. She, who was so proud of keeping my
+mother's house, resembling a stewardess of the olden time; when
+misfortune came, converted herself for my sake into maid of all work!
+Inspired by love for me, she patiently endured the hardships and
+dreariness of our sad situation; not a complaint, not a murmur, not a
+reproach. To see her so quietly resigned, you would have supposed that
+she had been both chamber-maid and cook all her life, that is if you
+never tasted her dishes! I shall always remember her first dinner. O,
+the Spartan broth of that day! She must have gotten the receipt from
+"The Good Lacedemonian Cook Book."
+
+I confidently swallowed all she put before me. Strange and mysterious
+ragout! I dared not ask what was in it, but I vainly sought for the
+relics of any animal I had ever seen; what did she make it of? It is a
+secret that I fear I shall die without discovering.
+
+Well, this woman, so devoted, so resigned in the days of adversity; this
+feminine Caleb, whose generous care assuaged my misery; who, when I
+suffered, deemed it her duty to suffer with me; when I worked day and
+night, considered it an honor to labor day and night with me--now that
+she knows we are restored to our fortune, cannot endure the least
+privation.
+
+All day long she complains. Every order is received with imprecatory
+mutterings, such as "What an idiotic idea! What folly! to be as rich as
+Croesus and find amusement in poverty! To come and live in a little hole
+with common people and refuse to visit duchesses in their castles!
+People must not be surprised if I don't obey orders that I don't
+understand."
+
+She is stubborn and refractory. She will drive me to despair, so
+determined does she seem to thwart all my plans. I tell her to call me
+Madame; she persists in calling me Mademoiselle. I told her to bring
+simple dresses and country shoes; she has brought nothing but
+embroidered muslins, cobweb handkerchiefs and gray silk boots. I
+entreated her to put on a simple dress, when she came with me. This made
+her desperate, and through vengeance and maliciously exaggerated zeal
+she bundled herself up like an old witch. I tried to make her comprehend
+that her frightfulness far exceeded my wildest wishes; she thereupon
+disarmed me with this sublime reply:
+
+"I had nothing but new hats and new shawls, and so had to _borrow_ these
+clothes to obey Mademoiselle's orders."
+
+Would you believe it? The proud old woman has destroyed or hidden all
+the old clothes that were witnesses of our past misery. I am more
+humble, and have kept everything. When I returned to my little garret, I
+was delighted to see again my modest furniture, my pretty pink chintz
+curtains, my thin blue carpet, my little ebony shelves, and then all the
+precious objects I had saved from the wreck; my father's old
+easy-chair, my mother's work-table, and all of our family portraits,
+concealed, like proud intruders, in one corner of the room, where
+haughty marshals, worthy prelates, coquettish marquises, venerable
+abbesses, sprightly pages and gloomy cavaliers all jostled together, and
+much astonished to find themselves in such a wretched little room, and
+what is worse, shamefully disowned by their unworthy descendant. I love
+my garret, and remained there three days before coming here; and there I
+left my fine princess dresses and put on my modest travelling suit;
+there the elegant Irene once more became the interesting widow of the
+imaginary Albert Guérin. We started at nine in the morning. I had the
+greatest difficulty in getting ready for the early train, so soon have I
+forgotten my old habit of early rising. When I look back and recall how
+for three years I arose at dawn, it looks like a wretched dream. I
+suppose it is because I have become so lazy.
+
+It is distressing to think that only six months have passed since I was
+raised from the depths of poverty, and here I am already spoiled by good
+fortune!
+
+Misfortune is a great master, but like all masters he only is obeyed
+when present; we work with him, but when his back is turned forget his
+admonitions.
+
+We reached the depot as the train was starting, obtaining comfortable
+seats. I met with a most interesting adventure, that is, interesting to
+me; how small the world is! I had for a companion an old friend of
+Roger, but who fortunately did not know me; it was M. Edgar de Meilhan,
+the poet, whose talents I admire, and whose acquaintance I had long
+desired; judging from his conversation he must be quite an original
+character. But he was accompanied by one of those explanatory gossips
+who seem born to serve as cicerones to the entire world, and render
+useless all penetrating perspicacity.
+
+These sort of bores are amusing to meet on a journey; rather well
+informed, they quote their favorite authors very neatly in order to
+display the extent of their information; they also have a happy way of
+imposing on the ignorant people, who sit around with wide-stretched
+mouths, listening to the string of celebrated names so familiarly
+repeated as to indicate a personal intimacy with each and all of them;
+in a word, it is a way of making the most of your acquaintance, as your
+witty friend M.L. would say. Now I must give you a portrait of this
+gentleman; it shall be briefly done.
+
+He was an angular man, with a square forehead, a square nose, a square
+mouth, a square chin, a square smile, a square hand, square shoulders,
+square gayety, square jokes; that is to say, he is coarse, heavy and
+rugged. A coarse mind cultivated often appears smooth and moves easily
+in conversation, but a square mind is always awkward and threatening.
+Well, this square man evidently "made the most of his acquaintances" for
+my benefit, for poor little me, an humble violet met by chance on the
+road! He spoke of M. Guizot having mentioned this to him; of M. Thiers,
+who dined with him lately, having said that to him; of Prince Max de
+Beauvau, whom he bet with at the last Versailles races; of the beautiful
+Madame de Magnoncourt, with whom he danced at the English ambassador's
+ball; of twenty other distinguished personages with whom he was
+intimate, and finally he mentioned Prince Roger de Monbert, the
+eccentric tiger-hunter, who for the last two months had been the lion of
+Paris. At the name of Roger I became all attention; the square man
+continued:
+
+"But you, my dear Edgar, were brought up with him, were you not?"
+
+"Yes," said the poet.
+
+"Have you seen him since his return?"
+
+"Not yet, but I hear from him constantly; I had a letter yesterday."
+
+"They say he is engaged to the beautiful heiress, Irene de Chateaudun,
+and will be married very soon."
+
+"'Tis an idle rumor," said M. de Meilhan, in a dry tone that forced his
+dreadful friend to select another topic of conversation.
+
+Oh, how curious I was to find out what Roger had written to M. de
+Meilhan! Roger had a confidant! He had told him about me! What could he
+have said? Oh, this dreadful letter! What would I not give to see it! My
+sole thought is, how can I obtain it; unconsciously I gazed at M. de
+Meilhan, with an uneasy perplexity that must have astonished him and
+given him a queer idea of my character.
+
+I was unable to conceal my joy, when I heard him say he lived at
+Richeport, and that he intended stopping at Pont de l'Arche, which is
+but a short distance from his estate; my satisfaction must have appeared
+very strange.
+
+A dreadful storm detained us two hours in the neighborhood of the depot.
+We remained in company under the shed, and watched the falling rain. My
+situation was embarrassing; I wished to be agreeable and polite to M. de
+Meilhan that I might encourage him to call at Madama Taverneau's, Pont
+de l'Arche, and then again I did not wish to be so very gracious and
+attentive as to inspire him with too much assurance. It was a difficult
+game to play. I must boldly risk making a bad impression, and at the
+same time keep him at a respectful distance. Well, I succeeded in
+solving the problem within the pale of legitimate curiosity, offering to
+share with my companion in misfortune a box of bon-bons, intended for
+Madame Taverneau.
+
+But what attentions he showered on me before meriting this great
+sacrifice! What ingenious umbrellas he improvised for me under this
+inhospitable shed, that grudgingly lent us a perfidious and capricious
+shelter! What charming seats, skilfully made of sticks and logs driven
+into the wet ground!
+
+When the storm was over M. de Meilhan offered to escort us to Pont de
+l'Arche; I accepted, much to the astonishment of the severe Blanchard,
+who cannot understand the sudden change in my conduct, and begins to
+suspect me of being in search of adventures.
+
+When we reached our destination, and Madam Taverneau heard that M. de
+Meilhan had been my escort, she was in such a state of excitement that
+she could talk of nothing else. M. de Meilhan is highly thought of
+here, where his family have resided many years; his mother is venerated,
+and he himself beloved by all that know him. He has a moderate fortune;
+with it he quietly dispenses charity and daily confers benefits with an
+unknown hand. He seems to be very agreeable and witty. I have never met
+so brilliant a man, except M. de Monbert. How charming it would be to
+hear them talk together!
+
+But that letter! What would I not give for that letter! If I could only
+read the first four lines! I would find out what I want to know. These
+first lines would tell me if Roger is really sad; if he is to be pitied,
+and if it is time for me to console him. I rely a little upon the
+indiscretion of M. de Meilhan to enlighten me. Poets are like doctors;
+all artists are kindred spirits; they cannot refrain from telling a
+romantic love affair any more than a physician can from citing his last
+remarkable case; the former never name their friends, the latter never
+betray their patients. But when we know beforehand, as I do, the name of
+the hero or patient, we soon complete the semi-indiscretion.
+
+So I mercilessly slander all heiresses and capricious women of fashion
+that I may incite Roger's confidant to relate me my own history. I
+forgot to mention that since my arrival here M. de Meilhan has been
+every day to call on Madame Taverneau. She evidently imagines herself
+the object of his visits. I am of a different opinion. Indeed, I fear I
+have made a conquest of this dark-eyed young poet, which is not at all
+flattering to me. This sudden adoration shows that he has not a very
+elevated opinion of me. How he will laugh when he recognises this
+adventurous widow in the proud wife of his friend!
+
+You reproach me bitterly for having sacrificed you to Madame Taverneau.
+Cruel Prefect that you are, go and accuse the government and your
+consul-general of this unjust preference.
+
+Can I reach Grenoble in three hours, as I do Rouen? Can I return from
+Grenoble to Paris in three hours; fly when I wish, reappear when 'tis
+necessary? In a word have you a railway? No! Well, then, trust to my
+experience and believe that where locomotion is concerned there is an
+end to friendship, gratitude, sympathy and devotion. Nothing is to be
+considered but railways, roads, wagons that jolt you to death, but carry
+you to your destination, and stages that upset and never arrive.
+
+We cannot visit the friends we love best, but those we can get away from
+with the greatest facility.
+
+Besides, for a heroine wishing to hide herself, the asylum you offer has
+nothing mysterious, it is merely a Thebais of a prefecture; and there I
+am afraid of compromising you.
+
+A Parisian in a provincial town is always standing on a volcano, one
+unlucky word may cause destruction.
+
+How difficult it is to be a Prefect! You have commenced very
+properly--four children! All that is necessary to begin with. They are
+such convenient excuses. To be a good Prefect one must have four
+children. They are inexhaustible pretexts for escaping social horrors;
+if you wish to decline a compromising invitation, your dear little girl
+has got the whooping cough; when you wish to avoid dining a friend _in
+transitu_, your eldest son has a dreadful fever; you desire to escape a
+banquet unadorned by the presence of the big-wigs--brilliant idea! all
+four children have the measles.
+
+Now confess you did well to have the four lovely children! Without them
+you would be conquered in spite of your wisdom; it requires so much
+skill for a Parisian to live officially in a province!
+
+There all the women are clever; the most insignificant citizen's wife
+can outwit an old diplomat. What science they display under the most
+trying and peculiar circumstances! What profound combination in their
+plans of vengeance! What prudence in their malice! What patience in
+their cruelty! It is dreadful! I will visit you when you reside in the
+country, but while you reign over a prefecture, I have for you the
+respectful horror that a democratic mind has for all authorities.
+
+Who is this poor convalescent whose wound caused you so much anxiety?
+You don't tell me his name! I understand you, Madame! Even to an old
+friend you must show your administrative discretion!
+
+Is this wounded hero young? I suppose he is, as you do not say he is
+old. He is "about to leave, and return to his home;" "his home" is
+rather vague, as you don't tell me his name! Now, I am different from
+you; I name and fully describe every one I meet, you respond with
+enigmas.
+
+I well know that your destiny is fulfilled, and that mine has all the
+attractiveness of a new romance. Nevertheless, you must be more
+communicative if you expect to be continued in office as my confidant.
+
+Embrace for me your dear little ones, whom I insist upon regarding as
+your best counsellors at the prefecture, and tell my goddaughter, Irene,
+to kiss you for me.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Saint Dominique street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, May 31st, 18--.
+
+Now that you are a sort of Amadis de Gaul, striking attitudes upon a
+barren rock, as a sign of your lovelorn condition, you have probably
+forgotten, my dear Roger, my encounter upon the cars with an ideal
+grisette, who saved me from the horrors of starvation by generously
+dividing with me a bag of sugar-plums. But for this unlooked-for aid, I
+should have been reduced, like a famous handful of shipwrecked mariners,
+to feed upon my watch-chain and vest-buttons. To a man so absorbed in
+his grief, as you are, the news of the death from starvation of a friend
+upon the desert island of a railway station, would make very little
+impression; but I not being in love with any Irene de Chateaudun, have
+preserved a pleasant recollection of this touching scene, translated
+from the Æneid in modern and familiar prose.
+
+I wrote immediately,--for my beauty, of an infinitely less exalted rank
+than yours, lodges with the post-mistress,--several fabulous letters to
+problematic people, in countries which do not exist, and are only
+designated upon the map by a dash.
+
+Madame Taverneau has conceived a profound respect for a young man who
+has correspondents in unknown lands, barely sighted in 1821 at the
+Antarctic pole, and in 1819 at the Arctic pole, so she invited me to a
+little soirée musicale et dansante, of which I was to be the bright
+particular star. An invitation to an exclusive ball, given at an
+inaccessible house, never gave a woman with a doubtful past or an
+uncertain position, half the pleasure that I felt from the entangled
+sentences of Madame Taverneau in which she did not dare to hope, but
+would be happy if--.
+
+Apart from the happiness of seeing Madame Louise Guérin (my charmer's
+name), I looked forward to an entirely new recreation, that of studying
+the manners of the middle class in their intimate relations with each
+other. I have lived with the aristocracy and with the canaille; in the
+highest and lowest conditions of life are found entire absence of
+pretension; in the highest, because their position is assured; in the
+lowest, because it is simply impossible to alter it. None but poets are
+really unhappy because they cannot climb to the stars. A half-way
+position is the most false.
+
+I thought I would go early to have some talk with Louise, but the circle
+was already completed when I arrived; everybody had come first.
+
+The guests were assembled in a large, gloomy room, gloriously called a
+drawing-room, where the servant never enters without first taking off
+her shoes at the door, like a Turk in a mosque, and which is only opened
+on the most solemn occasions. As it is doubtful whether you have ever
+set foot in a like establishment, I will give you, in imitation of the
+most profound of our novel-writers (which one? you will say; they are
+all profound now-a-days), a detailed description of Madame Taverneau's
+salon.
+
+Two windows, hung in red calico, held up by some black ornaments, a
+complication of sticks, pegs and all sorts of implements on stamped
+copper, gave light to this sanctuary, which commanded through them an
+animated look-out--in the language of the commonalty--upon the
+scorching, noisy highway, bordered by sickly elms sprinkled with dust,
+from the constant passage of vehicles which shake the house to its
+centre; wagons loaded with noisy iron, and droves of hogs, squeaking
+under the drover's whip.
+
+The floor was painted red and polished painfully bright, reminding one
+of a wine-merchant's sign freshly varnished; the walls were concealed
+under frightful velvet paper which so religiously catches the fluff and
+dust. The mahogany furniture stood round the room, a reproach against
+the discovery of America, covered with sanguinary cloth stamped in black
+with subjects taken from Fontaine's fables. When I say subjects I
+basely flatter the sumptuous taste of Madame Taverneau; it was the same
+subject indefinitely repeated--the Fox and the Stork. How luxurious it
+was to sit upon a stork's beak! In front of each chair was spread a
+piece of carpet, to protect the splendor of the floor, so that the
+guests when seated bore a vague resemblance to the bottles and decanters
+set round the plated centrepiece of a banquet given to a deputy by his
+grateful constituents.
+
+An atrocious troubadour clock ornamented the mantel-piece representing
+the templar Bois-Guilbert bearing off a gilded Rebecca upon a silver
+horse. On either side of this frightful time-piece were placed two
+plated lamps under globes.
+
+This magnificence filled with secret envy more than one housekeeper of
+Pont de l'Arche, and even the maid trembled as she dusted. We will not
+speak of the spun-glass poodles, little sugar St. Johns, chocolate
+Napoleons, a cabinet filled with common china, occupying a conspicuous
+place, engravings representing the Adieux to Fontainebleau, Souvenirs
+and Regrets, The Fisherman's Family, The Little Poachers, and other
+hackneyed subjects. Can you imagine anything like it? For my part, I
+never could understand this love for the common-place and the hideous. I
+know that every one does not dwell in Alhambras, Louvres, or Parthenons,
+but it is so easy to do without a clock to leave the walls bare, to
+exist without Manrin's lithographs or Jazet's aquatints!
+
+The people filling the room, seemed to me, in point of vulgarity, the
+queerest in the world; their manner of speaking was marvellous,
+imitating the florid style of the defunct Prudhomme, the pupil of Brard
+and St. Omer. Their heads spread out over their white cravats and
+immense shirt collars recalled to mind certain specimens of the gourd
+tribe. Some even resemble animals, the lion, the horse, the ass; these,
+all things considered, had a vegetable rather than an animal look. Of
+the women I will say nothing, having resolved never to ridicule that
+charming sex.
+
+Among these human vegetables, Louise appeared like a rose in a cabbage
+patch. She wore a simple white dress fastened at the waist by a blue
+ribbon; her hair arranged in bandeaux encircled her pure brow and wound
+in massive coils about her head. A Quakeress could have found no fault
+with this costume, which placed in grotesque and ridiculous contrast the
+hearselike trappings of the other women. It was impossible to be dressed
+in better taste. I was afraid lest my Infanta should seize this
+opportunity to display some marvellous toilette purchased expressly for
+the occasion. That plain muslin gown which never saw India, and was
+probably made by herself, touched and fascinated me. Dress has very
+little weight with me. I once admired a Granada gypsy whose sole costume
+consisted of blue slippers and a necklace of amber beads; but nothing
+annoys me more than a badly made dress of an unbecoming shade.
+
+The provincial dandies much preferring the rubicund gossips, with their
+short necks covered with gold chains, to Madame Taverneau's young and
+slender guest, I was free to talk with her under cover of Louisa
+Pugett's ballads and sonatas executed by infant phenomena upon a cracked
+piano hired from Rouen for the occasion.
+
+Louisa's wit was charming. How mistaken it is to educate instinct out of
+women! To replace nature by a school-mistress! She committed none of
+those terrible mistakes which shock one; it was evident that she formed
+her sentences herself instead of repeating formulae committed to memory.
+She had either never read a novel or had forgotten it, and unless she is
+a wonderful actress she remains as the great fashioner, Nature, made
+her--a perfect woman. We remained a greater part of the evening seated
+together in a corner like beings of another race. Profiting by the great
+interest betrayed by the company in one of those _soi-disant_ innocent
+games where a great deal of kissing is done, the fair girl, doubtless
+fearing a rude salute on her delicate cheek, led me into her room, which
+adjoins the parlor and opens into the garden by a glass door.
+
+On a table in the room, feebly lighted by a lamp which Louisa modestly
+turned up, were scattered pell-mell, screens, boxes from Spa, alabaster
+paper-weights and other details of the art of illuminating, which
+profession my beauty practises; and which explains her occasional
+aristocratic airs, unbecoming an humble seamstress. A bouquet just
+commenced showed talent; with some lessons from St. Jean or Diaz she
+would easily make a good flower painter. I told her so. She received my
+encomiums as a matter of course, evincing none of that mock-modesty
+which I particularly detest.
+
+She showed me a bizarre little chest that she was making, which at
+first-sight seemed to be carved out of coral; it was constructed out of
+the wax-seals cut from old letters pasted together. This new mosaic was
+very simple, and yet remarkably pretty. She asked me to give her, in
+order to finish her box, all the striking seals I possessed, emblazoned
+in figures and devices. I gave her five or six letters that I had in my
+pocket, from which she dexterously cut the seals with her little
+scissors. While she was thus engaged I strolled about the garden--a
+Machiavellian manoeuvre, for, in order to return me my letters, she must
+come in search of me.
+
+The gardens of Madame Taverneau are not the gardens of Armida; but it is
+not in the power of the commonalty to spoil entirely the work of God's
+hands; trees, by the moonbeams of a summer-night, although only a few
+steps from red-cotton curtains and a sanhedrim of merry tradespeople,
+are still trees. In a corner of the garden stood a large acacia tree, in
+full bloom, waving its yellow hair in the soft night-breeze, and
+mingling its perfume with that of the flowers of the marsh iris, poised
+like azure butterflies upon their long green stems.
+
+The porch was flooded with silver light, and when Louise, having secured
+her seals, appeared upon the threshold, her pure and elegant form stood
+out against the dark background of the room like an alabaster statuette.
+
+Her step, as she advanced towards me, was undulating and rhythmical like
+a Greek strophe. I took my letters, and we strolled along the path
+towards an arbor.
+
+So glad was I to get away from the templar Bois-Guilbert carrying off
+Rebecca, and the plated lamps, that I developed an eloquence at once
+persuasive and surprising. Louise seemed much agitated; I could almost
+see the beatings of her heart--the accents of her pure voice were
+troubled--she spoke as one just awakened from a dream. Tell me, are not
+these the symptoms, wherever you have travelled, of a budding love?
+
+I took her hand; it was moist and cool, soft as the pulp of a magnolia
+flower,--and I thought I felt her fingers faintly return my pressure.
+
+I am delighted that this scene occurred by moonlight and under the
+acacia's perfumed branches, for I affect poetical surroundings for my
+love scenes. It would be disagreeable to recall a lovely face relieved
+against wall-paper covered with yellow scrolls; or a declaration of love
+accompanied, in the distance, by the Grace de Dieu; my first significant
+interview with Louise will be associated in my thoughts with moonbeams,
+the odor of the iris and the song of the cricket in the summer grass.
+
+You, no doubt, pronounce me, dear Roger, a pitiable Don Juan, a
+common-place Amilcar, for not profiting by the occasion. A young man
+strolling at night in a garden with a screen painter ought at least to
+have stolen a kiss! At the risk of appearing ridiculous, I did nothing
+of the kind. I love Louise, and besides she has at times such an air of
+hauteur, of majestic disdain that the boldest commercial traveller
+steeped to the lips in Pigault-Lebrun, a sub-lieutenant wild with
+absinthe would not venture such a caress--she would almost make one
+believe in virtue, if such a thing were possible. Frankly, I am afraid
+that I am in earnest this time. Order me a dove-colored vest,
+apple-green trowsers, a pouch, a crook, in short the entire outfit of a
+Lignon shepherd. I shall have a lamb washed to complete the pastoral.
+
+How I reached the château, whether walking or flying, I cannot tell.
+Happy as a king, proud as a god, for a new love was born in my heart.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Préfecture, GRENOBLE (Isère).
+
+PARIS, June 2d 18--.
+
+It is five o'clock, I have just come from Pont de l'Arche, and I am
+going to the Odeon, which is three miles from here; it seems to me that
+the Odeon is three miles from every spot in Paris, for no matter where
+you live, you are never near the Odeon!
+
+Madame Taverneau is delighted at the prospect of treating a poor,
+obscure, unsophisticated widow like myself to an evening at the theatre!
+She has a box that she obtained, by some stratagem, the hour we got
+here. She seemed so hurt and disappointed when I refused to accompany
+her, that I was finally compelled to yield to her entreaties. The good
+woman has for me a restless, troublesome affection that touches me
+deeply. A vague instinct tells her that fate will lead us through
+different paths in life, and in spite of herself, without being able to
+explain why, she watches me as if she knew I might escape from her at
+any moment.
+
+She insisted upon escorting me to Paris, although she had nothing to
+call her there, and her father, who is still my garret neighbor, did not
+expect her. She relies upon taking me back to Pont de l'Arche, and I
+have not the courage to undeceive her; I also dread the moment when I
+will have to tell her my real name, for she will weep as if she were
+hearing my requiem. Tell me, what can I do to benefit her and her
+husband; if they had a child I would present it with a handsome dowry,
+because parents gratefully receive money for their children, when they
+would proudly refuse it for themselves.
+
+To confer a favor without letting it appear as one, requires more
+consideration, caution and diplomacy than I am prepared to devote to
+the subject, so you must come to my relief and decide upon some plan.
+
+I first thought of making M. Taverneau manager of one of my estates--now
+that I have estates to be managed; but he is stupid ... and alas, what a
+manager he would make! He would eat the hay instead of selling it; so I
+had to relinquish that idea, and as he is unfit for anything else, I
+will get him an office; the government alone possesses the art of
+utilizing fools. Tell me what office I can ask for that will be very
+remunerative to him--consult M. de Braimes; a Prefect ought to know how
+to manage such a case; ask him what is the best way of assisting a
+protégé who is a great fool? Let me know at once what he says.
+
+I don't wish to speak of the subject to Roger, because it would be
+revealing the past. Poor Roger, how unhappy he must be! I long so to see
+him, and by great kindness make amends for my cruelty.
+
+I told you of all the stratagems I had to resort to in order to find out
+what Roger had written to M. de Meilhan about his sorrows; well, thanks
+to my little sealing-wax boxes, I have seen Roger's letter! Yesterday
+evening, M. de Meilhan brought me some new seals, and among the letters
+he handed me was one from Roger! Imagine my feelings! I was so
+frightened when I had the letter in my hand that I dared not read it;
+not because I was too honorable, but too prudish; I dreaded being
+embarrassed by reading facts stated in that free and easy style peculiar
+to young men when writing to each other. The only concession I could
+obtain from my delicacy was to glance at the three last lines: "I am not
+angry with her, I am only vexed with myself," wrote the poor forsaken
+man. "I never told her how much I loved her; if she had known it, never
+would she have had the courage to desert me."
+
+This simple honest sorrow affected me deeply; not wishing to read any
+more, I went into the garden to return M. de Meilhan his letters, and
+was glad it was too dark for him to perceive my paleness and agitation.
+I at once decided to return to Paris, for I find that in spite of all
+my fine programmes of cruelty, I am naturally tender-hearted and
+distressed to death at the idea of making any one unhappy. I armed
+myself with insensibility, and here I am already conquered by the first
+groans of my victim. I would make but an indifferent tyrant, and if all
+the suspicious queens and jealous empresses like Elizabeth, Catharine
+and Christina had no more cruelty in their dispositions than I have, the
+world would have been deprived of some of its finest tragedies.
+
+You may congratulate yourself upon having mitigated the severity of my
+decrees, for it is my anxiety to please you that has made me so suddenly
+change all my plans of tests and trials. You say it is undignified to
+act as a spy upon Roger, to conceal myself in Paris where he is
+anxiously seeking and waiting for me; that this ridiculous play has an
+air of intrigue, and had better be stopped at once or it may result
+dangerously ... I am resigned--I renounce the sensible idea of testing
+my future husband ... but be warned! If in the future I am tortured by
+discovering any glaring defects and odious peculiarities, that what you
+call my indiscretion might have revealed before it was too late, you
+will permit me to come and complain to you every day, and you must
+promise to listen to my endless lamentations as I repeat over and over
+again. O Valentine, I have learned too late what I might have known in
+time to save me! Valentine, I am miserable and disappointed--console me!
+console me!
+
+Doubtless to a young girl reared like yourself in affluence under your
+mother's eye, this strange conduct appears culpable and indelicate; but
+remember, that with me it is the natural result of the sad life I have
+led for the last three years; this disguise, that I reassume from fancy,
+was then worn from necessity, and I have earned the right of borrowing
+it a little while longer from misfortune to assist me in guarding
+against new sorrows. Am I not justified in wishing to profit by
+experience too dearly bought? Is it not just that I should demand from
+the sad past some guarantees for a brighter future, and make my bitter
+sorrows the stepping-stones to a happy life? But, as I intend to follow
+your advice, I'll do it gracefully without again alluding to my
+frustrated plans.
+
+To-morrow I return to Fontainebleau. I stayed there five days when I
+went back with Madame Langeac; I only intended to remain a few minutes,
+but my cousin was so uneasy at finding her daughter worse, that I did
+not like to leave before the doctor pronounced her better. This illness
+will assist me greatly in the fictions I am going to write Roger from
+Fontainebleau to-morrow. I will tell him we were obliged to leave
+suddenly, without having time to bid him adieu, to go and nurse a sick
+relative; that she is better now, and Madame de Langeac and I will
+return to Paris next week. In three days I shall return, and no one will
+ever know I have been to Pont de l'Arche, except M. de Meilhan, who will
+doubtless soon forget all about it; besides, he intends remaining in
+Normandy till the end of the year, so there is no risk of our meeting.
+
+Oh! I must tell you about the amusing evening M. de Meilhan and I spent
+together at Madame Taverneau's. How we did laugh over it! He was king of
+the feast, although he would not acknowledge it. Madame Taverneau was so
+proud of entertaining the young lord of the village, that she had rushed
+into the most reckless extravagance to do him honor. She had thrown the
+whole town in a state of excitement by sending to Rouen for a piano. But
+the grand event of the evening was a clock. Yet I must confess that the
+effect was quite different from what she expected--it was a complete
+failure. We usually sit in the dining-room, but for this grand occasion
+the parlor was opened. On the mantel-piece in this splendid room there
+is a clock adorned by a dreadful bronze horse running away with a fierce
+warrior and some unheard-of Turkish female. I never saw anything so
+hideous; it is even worse than your frightful clock with Columbus
+discovering America! Madame Taverneau thought that M. de Meilhan, being
+a poet and an artist, would compliment her upon possessing so rare and
+valuable a work of art. Fortunately he said nothing--he even refrained
+from smiling; this showed his great generosity and delicacy, for it is
+only a man of refinement and delicacy that respects one's
+illusions--especially when they are illusions in imitation bronze!
+
+Upon my arrival here this morning, I was pained to hear that the trees
+in front of my window are to be cut down; this news ought not to disturb
+me in the least, as I never expect to return to this house again, yet it
+makes me very sad; these old trees are so beautiful, and I have thought
+so many things as I would sit and watch their long branches waving in
+the summer breeze!...and the little light that shone like a star through
+their thick foliage! shall I never see it again? It disappeared a year
+ago, and I used to hope it would suddenly shine again. I thought: It is
+absent, but will soon return to cheer my solitude. Sometimes I would
+say: "Perhaps my ideal dwells in that little garret!" O foolish idea!
+Vain hope! I must renounce all this poetry of youth; serious age creeps
+on with his imposing escort of austere duties; he dispels the charming
+fancies that console us in our sorrows; he extinguishes the bright
+lights that guide us through darkness--drives away the beloved
+ideal--spreads a cloud over the cherished star, and harshly cries out:
+"Be reasonable!" which means: No longer hope to be happy.
+
+Ah! Madame Taverneau calls me; she is in a hurry to start for the Odeon;
+it is very early, and I don't wish to go until the last moment. I have
+sent to the Hotel de Langeac for my letters, and must wait to glance
+over them--they might contain news about Roger.
+
+I have just caught a glimpse of the two ladies Madame Taverneau invited
+to accompany us to the theatre.... I see a wine-colored bonnet trimmed
+with green ribbons--it is horrible to look upon! Heavens--there comes
+another! more intolerable than the first one! bright yellow adorned with
+blue feathers!... Mercy! what a face within the bonnet! and what a
+figure beneath the face! She has something glistening in her hand ... it
+is ... a ... would you believe it? a travelling-bag covered with steel
+beads!... she intends taking it to the theatre!... do my eyes deceive
+me? _can_ she be filling it with oranges to carry with her?... she dare
+not disgrace us by eating oranges.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Saint Dominique Street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, June 3d, 18--
+
+It seems, my dear Roger, that we are engaged in a game of interrupted
+addresses. For my Louise Guérin, like your Irene de Chateaudun, has gone
+I know not where, leaving me to struggle, in this land of apple trees,
+with an incipient passion which she has planted in my breast. Flight has
+this year become an epidemic among women.
+
+The day after that famous soirée, I went to the post-office ostensibly
+to carry the letter containing those triumphant details, but in reality
+to see Louise, for any servant possessed sufficient intelligence to
+acquit himself of such a commission. Imagine my surprise and
+disappointment at finding instead of Madame Taverneau a strange face,
+who gruffly announced that the post-mistress had gone away for a few
+days with Madame Louise Guérin. The dove had flown, leaving to mark its
+passage a few white feathers in its mossy nest, a faint perfume of grace
+in this common-place mansion!
+
+I could have questioned Madame Taverneau's fat substitute, but I am
+principled against asking questions; things are explained soon enough.
+Disenchantment is the key to all things. When I like a woman I carefully
+avoid all her acquaintance, any one who can tell me aught about her. The
+sound of her name pronounced by careless lips, puts me to flight; the
+letters that she receives might be given me open and I should throw
+them, unread, into the fire. If in speaking she makes any allusion to
+the past events of her life, I change the conversation; I tremble when
+she begins a recital, lest some disillusionizing incident should escape
+her which would destroy the impression I had formed of her. As
+studiously as others hunt after secrets I avoid them; if I have ever
+learned anything of a woman I loved, it has always been in spite of my
+earnest efforts, and what I have known I have carefully endeavored to
+forget.
+
+Such is my system. I said nothing to the fat woman, but entered Louise's
+deserted chamber.
+
+Everything was as she had left it.
+
+A bunch of wild flowers, used as a model, had not had time to fade; an
+unfinished bouquet rested on the easel, as if awaiting the last touches
+of the pencil. Nothing betokened a final departure. One would have said
+that Louise might enter at any moment. A little black mitten lay upon a
+chair; I picked it up--and would have pressed it to my lips, if such an
+action had not been deplorably rococo.
+
+Then I threw myself into an old arm-chair, by the side of the bed--like
+Faust in Marguerite's room--lifting the curtains with as much precaution
+as if Louise reposed beneath. You are going to laugh at me, I know, dear
+Roger, but I assure you, I have never been able to gaze upon a young
+girl's bed without emotion.
+
+That little pillow, the sole confidant of timid dreams, that narrow
+couch, fitted like a tomb for but one alabaster form, inspired me with
+tender melancholy. No anacreontic thoughts came to me, I assure you, nor
+any disposition to rhyme in _ette_, herbette, filette, coudrette. The
+love I bear to noble poesy saved me from such an exhibition of bad
+taste.
+
+A crucifix, over which hung a piece of blessed box, spread its ivory
+arms above Louise's untroubled slumber. Such simple piety touched me. I
+dislike bigots, but I detest atheists.
+
+Musing there alone it flashed upon me that Louise Guérin had never been
+married, in spite of her assertion. I am disposed to doubt the existence
+of the late Albert Guérin. A sedate and austere atmosphere surrounds
+Louise, suggesting the convent or the boarding-school.
+
+I went into the garden; the sunbeams checkered the steps of the porch;
+the wilted iris drooped on its stem, and the acacia flowers strewed the
+pathway. Apropos of acacia flowers, do you know, that fried in batter,
+they make excellent fritters? Finding myself alone in the walks where I
+had strolled with her, I do not know how it happened, but I felt my
+heart swell, and I sighed like a young abbé of the 17th century.
+
+I returned to the château, having no excuse for remaining longer, vexed,
+disappointed, wearied, idle--the habit of seeing Louise every day had
+grown upon me.
+
+And habit is everything to poor humanity, as that graceful poet Alfred
+de Musset says. My feet only know the way to the post-office; what shall
+I do with myself while this visit lasts? I tried to read, but my
+attention wandered; I skipped the lines, and read the same paragraph
+over twice; my book having fallen down I picked it up and read it for
+one whole hour upside down, without knowing it--I wished to make a
+monosyllabic sonnet--extremely interesting occupation--and failed. My
+quatrains were tedious, and my tercets entirely too diffuse.
+
+My mother begins to be uneasy at my dullness; she has asked twice if I
+were sick--I have fallen off already a quarter of a pound; for nothing
+is more enraging than to be deserted at the most critical period of
+one's infatuation! Ixion of Normandy, my Juno is a screen-painter, I
+open my arms and clasp only a cloud! My position, similar to yours,
+cannot, however, be compared with it--mine only relates to a trifling
+flirtation, a thwarted fancy, while yours is a serious passion for a
+woman of your own rank who has accepted your hand, and therefore has no
+right to trifle with you,--she must be found, if only for vengeance!
+
+Remorse consumes me because of my sentimental stupidity by moonlight.
+Had I profited by the night, the solitude and the occasion, Louise had
+not left me; she saw clearly that I loved her, and was not displeased at
+the discovery. Women are strange mixtures of timidity and rashness.
+
+Perhaps she has gone to join her lover, some saw-bones, some
+counting-house Lovelace, while I languish here in vain, like Celadon or
+Lygdamis of cooing memory.
+
+This is not at all probable, however, for Madame Taverneau would not
+compromise her respectability so far as to act as chaperon to the loves
+of Louise Guérin. After all, what is it to me? I am very good to trouble
+myself about the freaks of a prudish screen-painter! She will return,
+because the hired piano has not been sent back to Rouen, and not a soul
+in the house knows a note of music but Louise, who plays quadrilles and
+waltzes with considerable taste, an accomplishment she owes to her
+mistress of painting, who had seen better days and possessed some skill.
+
+Do not be too much flattered by this letter of grievances, for I only
+wanted an excuse to go to the post-office to see if Louise has
+returned--suppose she has not! the thought drives the blood back to my
+heart.
+
+Isn't it singular that I should fall desperately in love with this
+simple shepherdess--I who have resisted the sea-green glances and smiles
+of the sirens that dwell in the Parisian ocean? Have I escaped from the
+Marquise's Israelite turbans only to become a slave to a straw bonnet? I
+have passed safe and sound through the most dangerous defiles to be
+worsted in open country; I could swim in the whirlpool, and now drown in
+a fish-pond; every celebrated beauty, every renowned coquette finds me
+on my guard. I am as circumspect as a cat walking over a table covered
+with glass and china. It is hard to make me pose, as they say in a
+certain set; but when the adversary is not to be feared, I allow him so
+many advantages that in the end he subdues me.
+
+I was not sufficiently on my guard with Louise at first.
+
+I said to myself: "She is only a grisette"--and left the door of my
+heart open--love entered in, and I fear I shall have some trouble in
+driving him out.
+
+Excuse, dear Roger, this nonsense, but I must write you something. After
+all, my passion is worth as much as yours. Love is the same whether
+inspired by an empress or a rope-dancer, and I am just as unhappy at
+Louise's disappearance as you are at Irene's.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, June 3d 18--.
+
+She is in Paris!
+
+Before knowing it I felt it. The atmosphere was filled with a voice, a
+melody, a brightness, a perfume that murmured: Irene is here!
+
+Paris appears to me once more populated; the crowd is no longer a desert
+in my eyes; this great dead city has recovered its spirit of life; the
+sun once more smiles upon me; the earth bounds under my feet; the soft
+summer air fans my burning brow, and whispers into my ear that one
+adored name--Irene!
+
+Chance has a treasure-house of atrocious combinations. Chance! The
+cunning demon! He calls himself Chance so as to better deceive us. With
+an infernal skilfulness he feigns not to watch us in the decisive
+moments of our lives, and at the same time leads us like blind fools
+into the very path he has marked out for us.
+
+You know the two brothers Ernest and George de S. were planted by their
+family in the field of diplomacy: they study Eastern languages and
+affect Eastern manners. Well, yesterday we met in the Bois de Boulogne,
+they in a calash, and I on horseback--I am trying riding as a moral
+hygiene--as the carriage dashed by they called out to me an invitation
+to dinner; I replied, "Yes," without stopping my horse. Idleness and
+indolence made me say "Yes," when I should have said, "No;" but _Yes_ is
+so much easier to pronounce than _No_, especially on horseback. _No_
+necessitates a discussion; _Yes_ ends the matter, and economizes words
+and time.
+
+I was rather glad I had met these young sprigs of diplomacy. They are
+good antidotes for low spirits, for they are always in a hilarious state
+and enjoy their youth in idle pleasure, knowing they are destined to
+grow old in the soporific dulness of an Eastern court.
+
+I thought we three would be alone at dinner; alas! there were five of
+us.
+
+Two female artistes who revelled in their precocious emancipation; two
+divinities worshipped in the temple of the grand sculptors of modern
+Athens; the Scylla and Charybdis of Paris.
+
+I am in the habit of bowing with the same apparent respect to every
+woman in the universe. I have bowed to the ebony women of Senegal; to
+the moon-colored women of the Southern Archipelago; to the snow-white
+women of Behring's Strait, and to the bronze women of Lahore and Ceylon.
+Now it was impossible for me to withdraw from the presence of two fair
+women whose portraits are the admiration of all connoisseurs who visit
+the Louvre. Besides, I have a theory: the less respectable a woman is,
+the more respect we should show her, and thus endeavor to bring her back
+to virtue.
+
+I remained and tried to add my fifth share of antique gayety to the
+feast. We were Praxiteles, Phidias and Scopas; we had inaugurated the
+modest Venus and her sister in their temples, and we drank to our model
+goddesses in wines from the Ionian Archipelago.
+
+That evening, you may remember, Antigone was played at the Odeon in the
+Faubourg Saint-Germain.
+
+I have another theory: in any action, foolish or wise, either carry it
+through bravely when once undertaken, or refrain from undertaking it. I
+had not the wisdom to refrain, therefore I was compelled to imitate the
+folly of my friends; at dessert I even abused the invitation, and too
+often sought to drown sorrow in the ruby cup.
+
+We started for the Odeon. Our entrance at the theatre caused quite an
+excitement. The ladies, cavalierly suspended on the arms of the two
+future Eastern ambassadors, sailed in with a conscious air of epicurean
+grace and dazzling beauty. The classic ushers obsequiously threw open
+the doors, and led us to our box. I brought up the procession, looking
+as insolent and proud as I did the day I entered the ruined pagoda of
+Bangalore to carry off the statue of Sita.
+
+The first act was being played, and the Athenian school preserved a
+religious silence in front of the proscenium. The noise we made by
+drawing back the curtain of our box, slamming the door and loudly
+laughing, drowned for an instant the touching strains of the tragic
+choir, and centred upon us the angry looks of the audience.
+
+With what cool impertinence did our divinities lean over the seats and
+display their round white arms, that have so often been copied in Parian
+marble by our most celebrated sculptors! Our three intellectual faces,
+wreathed in the silly smiles of intoxication, hovered over the silken
+curls of our goddesses, thus giving the whole theatre a full view of our
+happiness!
+
+Occasionally a glimmer of reason would cross my confused brain, and I
+would soliloquize: Why am I disgracing myself in this way before all
+these people? What possesses me to act in concert with these drunken
+fools and bold women? I must rush out and apologize to the first person
+I meet!
+
+It was impossible for me to follow my good impulse--some unseen hand
+held me back--some mysterious influence kept me chained to the spot. We
+are influenced by magic, although magicians no longer exist!
+
+Between the acts, our two Greek statues criticised the audience in loud
+tones, and their remarks, seasoned with attic salt, afforded a peculiar
+supplement to the choir of Antigone.
+
+"Those four women on our right must be sensible people," said our blonde
+statue; "they have put their show-piece in front. I suppose she is the
+beauty of the party; did you ever behold such dreadful bonnets and
+dresses? They must have come from the Olympic Circus. If I were
+disfigured in that way, I would be a box-opener, but never would be seen
+in one!"
+
+"I think I have seen them before," said the bronze statue; they hire
+their bonnets from the fish-market--disgusting creatures that they are!"
+
+"What do the two in the corner look like, my angel?"
+
+"I see nothing but a shower of curls; I suppose _she_ found it more
+economical to curl her hair than to buy a bonnet. Every time I stretch
+my neck to get a look at her, she hides behind those superb bonnets."
+
+"Which proves," said Ernest, "that she is paradoxically ugly."
+
+"I pity them, if they are seeking four husbands," said George; "and if
+they are married--I pity their four husbands."
+
+Whilst my noisy companions were trying to discover their ideal fright in
+the corner of the box on our right, I felt an inexplicable contraction
+of my heart--a chill pass through my whole body; my silly gayety was by
+some unseen influence suddenly changed into sadness--I felt my eyes fill
+with tears. The only way I could account for this revulsion in my
+feelings was the growing conviction that I was disgracing myself in a
+den of malefactors of both sexes. My fit of melancholy was interrupted
+very opportunely by the choir chanting the hymn of Bacchus, that antique
+wonder, found by Mendelssohn in the ruins of the Temple of Victory.
+
+When the play was over, I timidly proposed that we should remain in our
+box till the crowd had passed out; but our Greek statues would not hear
+to it, as they had determined upon a triumphal exit. I was obliged to
+yield.
+
+The bronze statue despotically seized my arm, and dragged me toward the
+stair. I felt as if I had a cold lizard clinging to me. I was seized
+with that chilly sensation always felt by nervous people when they come
+in contact with reptiles.
+
+I recalled the disastrous day that I was shipwrecked on the island of
+Eaei-Namove, and compelled to marry Dai-Natha, the king's daughter, in
+order to escape the unpleasant alternative of being eaten alive by her
+father. On the staircase of the Odeon I regretted Dai-Natha.
+
+In the midst of the dense crowd that blockaded the stairway, I heard a
+frightened cry that made the blood freeze in my veins. There was but one
+woman in the world blest with so sweet a voice--musical even when raised
+in terror.
+
+If I were surrounded by crashing peals of thunder, rushing waters and
+yells of wild beasts, I still could recognise, through the din of all
+this, the cry of a beloved woman. I am gifted with that marvellous
+perception of hearing, derived from the sixth sense, the sense of love.
+
+Irene de Chateaudun had uttered that cry of alarm--_Take care, my dear!_
+she had exclaimed with that accent of fright that it is impossible to
+disguise--in that tone that will be natural in spite of all the reserve
+that circumstances would impose, _Take care, my dear!_
+
+Some one near me said that a door-keeper had struck a lady on the
+shoulder with a panel of a portable door which he was carrying across
+the passage-way. By standing on my toes I could just catch a glimpse of
+the board being balanced in the air over every one's head. My eyes could
+not see the woman who had uttered this cry, but my ears told me it was
+Irene de Chateaudun.
+
+The crowd was so dense that some minutes passed before I could move a
+step towards the direction of the cry, but when I had finally succeeded
+in reaching the door, I flung from me the hateful arm that clung to
+mine, and rushing into the street, I searched through the crowd and
+looked in every carriage and under every lady's hood to catch a glimpse
+of Irene, without being disconcerted by the criticisms that the people
+around indulged in at my expense.
+
+Useless trouble! I discovered nothing. The theatre kept its secret; but
+that cry still rings in my ears and echoes around my heart.
+
+This morning at daybreak I flew to the Hotel de Langeac. The porter
+stared at me in amazement, and answered all my eager inquiries with a
+stolid, short _no_. The windows of Irene's room were closed and had that
+deserted appearance that proved the absence of its lovely
+occupant--windows that used to look so bright and beautiful when I would
+catch glimpses of a snowy little hand arranging the curtains, or of a
+golden head gracefully bent over her work, totally unconscious of the
+loving eyes feasting upon her beauty--oh! many of my happiest moments
+have been spent gazing at those windows, and now how coldly and silently
+they frowned upon my grief!
+
+The porter lies! The windows lie! I exclaimed, and once more I began to
+search Paris.
+
+This time I had a more important object in view than trying to fatigue
+my body and divert my mind. My eyes are multiplied to infinity; they
+questioned at once every window, door, alley, street, carriage and store
+in the city. I was like the miser who accused all Paris of having stolen
+his treasure.
+
+At three o'clock, when all the beauty and fashion of Paris was
+promenading on Paix aux Panoramas street, I was stopped on the corner
+and button-holed by one of those gossiping friends whom fiendish chance
+always sends at the most trying moments in life in order to disgust us
+with friendship ... A dazzling form passed before me ... Irene alone
+possesses that graceful ease, that fairy-like step, that queenly
+dignity--I could recognise her among a thousand--it was useless for her
+to attempt disguising her exquisite elegance beneath a peasant dress---
+besides I caught her eye, so all doubts were swept away; several
+precious minutes were lost in trying to shake off my vexatious friend. I
+abruptly bade him good-day and darted after Irene, but she has the foot
+of a gazelle, and the crowd was so compact that in spite of my elbowing
+and foot-crushing, I made but little headway.
+
+Finally, through an opening in the crowd, I saw Mlle., de Chateaudun
+turn the corner and enter that narrow street near the Cafe Vernon. This
+time she cannot possibly escape me--she is in a long, narrow street,
+with deserted galleries on either side--circumstances are propitious to
+a meeting and explanation--in a minute I am in the narrow street a few
+yards behind Irene. I prepare my mind for this momentous conversation
+which is to decide my fate. I firmly clasp my arms to still the violent
+throbbings of my heart. I am about to be translated to heaven or
+engulfed by hell.
+
+She rapidly glanced at a Chinese store in front of her and, without
+showing any agitation, quietly opened the door and went in. Very good,
+thought I, she will purchase some trifle and be out in a few minutes. I
+will wait for her.
+
+Five feet from the store I assumed the attitude of the god Terminus; by
+the way, this store is very handsomely ornamented, and far surpasses in
+its elegant collection of Chinese curiosities the largest store of the
+sort in Hog Lane in the European quarter of Canton.
+
+Another of those kind friends whom chance holds in reserve for our
+annoyance, came out of a bank adjoining the store, and inferring from my
+statue-like attitude that I was dying of ennui and would welcome any
+diversion, rushed up to me and said:
+
+"Ah! my dear cosmopolitan, how are you to-day? Don't you want to
+accompany me to Brussels? I have just bought gold for the journey; gold
+is very high, fifteen per cent."
+
+I answered by one of those listless smiles and unintelligible
+monosyllables which signifies in every language under the sun, don't
+bore me.
+
+In the meantime I remained immovable, with my eyes fastened on the
+Chinese store. I could have detected the flight of an atom.
+
+My friend struck the attitude of the Colossus of Rhodes, and supporting
+his chin upon the gold head of his cane which he held in the air
+clenched by both hands, thus continued: "I did a very foolish thing this
+morning. I bought my wife a horse, a Devonshire horse, from the Crémieux
+stables.... That reminds me, my dear Roger, you are the very man to
+decide a knotty question for me. I bet D'Allinville thirty louis that
+... what would _you_ call a lady's horse?"
+
+For some moments I preserved that silence which shows that we are not in
+a humor for talking; but friends sent by ingenious Chance understand
+nothing but the plainest language, so my friend continued his queries:
+
+"What would you call a lady's horse?"
+
+"I would call it a horse," said I, with indifference.
+
+"Now, Roger, I believe you are right; D'Allinville insists that a lady's
+horse is a palfrey."
+
+"In the language of chivalry he is right."
+
+"Then I have lost my bet?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"My dear Roger, this question has been worrying me for two days."
+
+"You are very fortunate to have nothing worse than a term of chivalry to
+annoy you. I would give all the gold in that broker's office if my
+troubles were as light as yours."
+
+"I am afraid you _are_ unhappy, ... you have been looking sad for some
+time, Roger, ... come with me to Brussels.... We can make some splendid
+speculations there. Now-a-days if the aristocracy don't turn their
+attention to business once in a while, they will be completely swept out
+by the moneyed scum of the period. Let us make a venture: I hear of
+twenty acres of land for sale, bordering on the Northern Railroad--there
+is a clear gain of a hundred thousand francs as soon as the road is
+finished; I offer you half--it is not a very risky game, nothing more
+than playing lansquenet on a railroad!"
+
+No signs of Irene. My impatience was so evident that this time, my
+obtuse friend saw it, and, shaking me by the hand, said:
+
+"Good bye, my dear Roger, why in the world did you not tell me I was _de
+trop?_ Now that I see there is a fair lady in the case I will relieve
+you of my presence. Adieu! adieu!"
+
+He was gone, and I breathed again.
+
+By this time my situation had become critical. This Chinese door, like
+that of Acheron, refused to surrender its prey. Time was passing. I had
+successively adopted every attitude of feverish expectation; I had
+exhausted every pose of a museum of statues, and saw that my suspicious
+blockade of the pavement alarmed the store-keepers. The broker adjoining
+the Chinese store seemed to be putting himself on the defensive, and
+meditating an article for the _Gazette des Tribunaux_.
+
+I now regretted the departure of my speculating friend; his presence
+would at least have given my conduct an air of respectability,--would
+have legalized, so to speak, my odd behavior. This time chance left me
+to my own devices.
+
+I had held my position for two hours, and now, as a regard for public
+opinion compelled me to retire, and I had no idea of doing so until I
+had achieved a victory, I determined to make an attack upon the citadel
+containing my queen of love and beauty. Irene had not left the store,
+for she certainly had no way of escaping except by the door which was
+right in front of my eyes--she must be all this time selecting some
+trifle that a man could purchase in five minutes,--it takes a woman an
+eternity to buy anything, no matter how small it may be! My situation
+had become intolerable--I could stand it no longer; so arming myself
+with superhuman courage, I bravely opened the shop-door and entered as
+if it were the breach of a besieged city.
+
+I looked around and could see nothing but a confused mingling of objects
+living and dead; I could only distinguish clearly a woman bowing over
+the counter, asking me a question that I did not hear. My agitation made
+me deaf and blind.
+
+"Madame," I said, "have you any ... Chinese curiosities?"
+
+"We have, monsieur, black tea, green tea, and some very fine Pekin."
+
+"Well, madame, ... give me some of all."
+
+"Do you want it in boxes, monsieur?"
+
+"In boxes, madame, if you choose."
+
+I looked all around the room and saw nobody but two old women standing
+behind another counter--no signs of Irene.
+
+I paid for my tea, and while writing down my address, I questioned the
+saleswoman:
+
+"I promised my wife to meet her here at three o'clock to select this
+tea--not that my presence was necessary, as her taste is always
+mine--but she requested me to come, and I fear I have made a mistake in
+the hour, my watch has run down and I had no idea it was so late--I hope
+she did not wait for me? has she been here?" Thereupon I gave a minute
+description of Irene de Chateaudun, from the color of her hair to the
+shade of her boot.
+
+"Yes, monsieur, she was here about three o'clock, it is now five; she
+was only here a few minutes--long enough to make a little purchase."
+
+"Yes, ... I gasped out, ... I know, but I thought I saw her ... did she
+not come in ... that door?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she entered by that door and went out by the opposite one,
+that one over there," said she, pointing to a door opening on New
+Vivienne street.
+
+I suppressed an oath, and rushed out of the door opening on this new
+street, as if I expected to find Mlle. de Chateaudun patiently waiting
+for me to join her on the pavement. My head was in such a whirl that I
+had not the remotest idea of where I was going, and I wandered
+recklessly through little streets that I had never heard of before--it
+made no difference to me whether I ran into Scylla or Charybdis--I cared
+not what became of me.
+
+Like the fool that repeats over and over again the same words without
+understanding their meaning, I kept saying: "The fiend of a woman! the
+fiend of a woman!" At this moment all my love seemed turned to hate! but
+when this hate had calmed down to chill despair, I began to reflect with
+agonizing fear that perhaps Irene had seen me at the Odeon with those
+dreadful women. I felt that I was ruined in her eyes for ever! She would
+never listen to my attempt at vindication or apologies--women are so
+unforgiving when a man strays for a moment from the path of propriety,
+and they regard little weaknesses in the light of premeditated crimes,
+too heinous for pardon--Irene would cry out with the poet:
+
+  "Tu te fais criminel pour te justifier!"
+
+You are fortunate, my dear Edgar, in having found the woman you have
+always dreamed of and hoped for; you will have all the charms of love
+without its troubles; it is folly to believe that love is strengthened
+by its own torments and stimulated by sorrows. A storm is only admired
+by those on shore; the suffering sailors curse the raging sea and pray
+for a calm.
+
+Your letter, my dear Edgar, is filled with that calm happiness that is
+the foundation of all true love; in return, I can only send you an
+account of my despair. Friendship is often a union of these two
+contrasts.
+
+Enjoy your happy lot, my friend; your reputation is made. You have a
+good name, an enviable and an individual philosophy, borrowed neither
+from the Greeks nor the Germans. Your future is beautiful; cherish the
+sweetest dreams; the woman you love will realize them all.
+
+Night is a bad counsellor, so I dare not make any resolutions, or come
+to any decision at this dark hour. I shall wait for the sun to enlighten
+my mind.
+
+In my despair I have the mournful consolation of knowing that Irene is
+in Paris. This great city has no undiscovered secrets; everything and
+every person hid in its many houses is obliged sooner or later to appear
+in the streets. I form the most extravagant projects; I will buy, if
+necessary, the indiscretion of all the discreet lips that guard the
+doors; I shall recruit an army of salaried spies. On the coast of the
+Coromandel there is a tribe of Indians whose profession is to dive into
+the Gulf of Bengal, that immense bathing-tub of the sun, and search for
+a beautiful pearl that lies buried among the coral beds at the bottom of
+the ocean. It is a pearl of great price, as valuable as the finest
+diamond.... Irene is my pearl of great price, and I will search for and
+find her in this great ocean of men and houses called Paris.... After
+thinking and wondering till I am dizzy and sick at heart, I have come to
+the conclusion that Irene is acting in this manner to test my love--this
+thought consoles me a little, and I try to drown my sorrow in the
+thought of our mutual happiness, when I shall have triumphantly passed
+through the ordeal.
+
+The most charming of women is willing to believe that everybody loves
+except her lover.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Grenoble, (Isère).
+
+PARIS, June 2d--Midnight.
+
+Oh! How indignant I am! How angry and mortified are my feelings! Good
+Heavens! how his shameful conduct makes me hate and despise him!... I
+will try to be calm--to collect my scattered thoughts and give you a
+clear account of what has just occurred--tell you how all of my plans
+are destroyed--how I am once more alone in this cruel world, more sad,
+more discouraged and more hopeless than I ever was in my darkest days of
+misery and poverty.... but I cannot be calm--it is impossible for me to
+control my indignation when I think of the shameful behavior of this
+man--of his gross impertinence--his insolent duplicity.... Well, I went
+to the Odeon; M. de Monbert was there, I saw him, he certainly made no
+attempt to conceal his presence; you know he plumes himself upon being
+open and frank--never hides anything from the world--wishes people to
+see him in his true character, &c., precisely what I saw to-night. Yes,
+Valentine, there he was as tipsy as a coachman--with those little
+hair-brained de S.'s, the eldest simply tipsy as a lord, the young one,
+George, was drunk, very drunk. This is not all, the fascinating Prince
+was escort to two fashionable beauties, two miserable creatures of
+distressing notoriety, two of those shameless women whom we cannot fail
+to recognise on account of their scandalous behavior in public; sort of
+market-women disguised as fashion-plates--half apple-venders, half
+coquettes, who tap men on the cheek with their scented gloves and
+intersperse their conversation with dreadful oaths from behind their
+bouquets and Pompadour fans! ... these creatures talked in shrill tones,
+laughed out loud enough to be heard by every one around--joined in the
+chorus of the Choir of Antigone with the old men of Thebes!... People
+in the gallery said: "they must have dined late," that was a charitable
+construction to put upon their shameful conduct--I thought to myself,
+this is their usual behavior--they are always thus.
+
+I must tell you, so you can better appreciate my angry mortification,
+that just as we were stepping into the carriage the servant handed me
+the letters that I had sent him to bring from the Hotel de Langeac.
+Among the number was one from M. de Monbert, written several days after
+I had left Paris; this letter is worthy of being sent to Grenoble; I
+enclose it. While reading it, my dear Valentine, don't forget that I
+read it at the theatre, and my reading was constantly interrupted by the
+vulgar conversation and noisy laughter of M. de Monbert and his choice
+companions, and that each high-flown sentence of this hypocritical note
+had at the same time a literal and free translation in the scandalous
+remarks, bursts of laughter, and stupid puns of the despicable man who
+had written it.
+
+I confess that this flow of wit interfered with my perusal of these
+touching reproaches; the brilliant improvisations of the orator
+prevented me from becoming too much affected by the elegiacs of the
+writer.
+
+Here is the note that I was trying to decipher through my tears when
+Monsieur de Monbert swaggered into the theatre.
+
+"Is this a test of love--a woman's vengeance or an idle caprice,
+Mademoiselle? My mind is not calm enough to solve the enigma. Be
+merciful and drive me not to madness! To-morrow may be too late--then
+your words of reason might be responded to by the jargon of insanity!
+Beware! and cast aside your cloak of mystery before the sun once more
+goes down upon my frenzy. All is desolation and darkness within and
+without--nothing appears bright to my eyes, and my soul is wrapped in
+gloom. In your absence I cease to live, but it seems as if my deep love
+gives me still enough strength to hold a wandering pen that my mind no
+longer guides. With my love I gave you my soul and mind--what remains to
+me would excite your pity. I implore you to restore me to life.
+
+"You cannot comprehend the ecstasy of a man who loves you, and the
+despair of a man who loses you. Before knowing you I never could have
+imagined these two extremes, separated by a whole world and brought
+together in one instant. To be envied by the angels--to breathe the air
+of heaven--to seek among the divine joys for a name to give one's
+happiness, and suddenly, like Lucifer, to be dashed by a thunderbolt
+into an abyss of darkness, and suffer the living death of the damned!
+
+"This is your work!
+
+"No, it cannot be a jest, it is not a vengeance; one does not jest with
+real love, one does does not take vengeance on an innocent man; then it
+must be a test! a test! ah well, it has been borne long enough, and my
+bleeding heart cries out to you for mercy. If you prolong this ordeal,
+you will soon have no occasion to doubt my love!... your grief will be
+remorse.
+
+"ROGER."
+
+Yes, you are right this time, my dear Prince; my sorrow is remorse, deep
+remorse; I shall never forgive myself for having been momentarily
+touched by your hear-trending moans and for having shed real tears over
+your dramatic pathos.
+
+I was seated in the corner of our box, trembling with emotion and
+weeping over these tender reproaches--yes, I wept!--he seemed so sad, so
+true to me--I was in an humble frame of mind, thoroughly convinced by
+this touching appeal that I had been wicked and unjust to doubt so
+faithful a heart. I was overcome by the magnitude of my offence--at
+having caused this great despair by my cruelty. Each word of this
+elaborate dirge was a dagger to my heart; I credulously admired the
+eloquence and simplicity of the style; I accepted as beautiful writing
+all these striking images--these antitheses full of passion and
+pretension: "_Reason responded to by insanity_." "_The power of love
+that gives him strength to hold a pen. Extremes separated by a whole
+world and brought together in an instant, and this living death that he
+suffers, this name for his past happiness that had to be sought for
+among the joys of heaven!_"
+
+I accepted as gospel truth all these high-flown fictions, and was
+astonished at nothing until I came to the _Lucifer_ part; that, I
+confess, rather startled me--but the finishing tirade composed me. I
+thought it fascinating, thrilling, heart-rending! In my enthusiastic
+pity I was, by way of expiation, admiring the whole letter when I was
+disturbed by a frightful noise made by people entering the adjoining
+box. I felt angry at their insulting my sadness with their heartless
+gayety. I continue to read, admire and weep--my neighbors continue to
+laugh and make a noise. Amidst this uproar I recognise a familiar
+voice--I listen--it is certainly the Prince de Monbert--I cannot be
+mistaken. Probably he has come here with strangers--he has travelled so
+much that he is obliged to do the honors of Paris to grand ladies who
+were polite to him abroad--but from what part of the world could these
+grand ladies have come? They seem to be indulging in a queer style of
+conversation. One of them boldly looked in our box, and exclaimed, "Four
+women! Four monsters!" I recognised her as a woman I had seen at the
+Versailles races--all was explained.
+
+Then they played a sort of farce for their own pleasure, to the great
+annoyance of the audience. I will give you a sample of it, so you can
+have an idea of the wit and good taste displayed by these gentlemen. The
+most intoxicated of the young men asked, between two yawns, who were the
+authors of _Antigone?_ "Sophocles," said M. de Monbert. "But there are
+two, are there not?" "Two _Antigones?_" said the Prince laughing; "yes,
+there is Ballanche's." "Ah, yes! Ballanche, that is his name," cried out
+the ignorant creature; "I knew I saw two names on the hand-bill! Do you
+know them?"
+
+"I am not acquainted with Sophocles," said the Prince, becoming more and
+more jovial, "but I know Ballanche; I have seen him at the Academy."
+
+This brilliant witticism was wonderfully successful; they all clapped so
+loud and laughed so hilariously that the audience became very angry, and
+called out, "Silence!" "Silence!" For a moment the noisy were quiet, but
+soon they were worse than ever, acting like maniacs. At the end of each
+scene, little George de S., who is a mere school-boy, cried out in
+deafening tones: "Bravo! Ballanche!" then turning to the neighboring
+boxes he said: "My friends, applaud; you must encourage the author;" and
+the two bold women clapped their hands and shrieked out, "Let us
+encourage Ballanche! Bravo! Ballanche!" It was absurd.
+
+Madame Taverneau and her friends were indignant; they had heard the
+compliment bestowed upon us--"Four women. Four monsters!" This rapid
+appreciation of our elegant appearance did not make them feel indulgent
+towards our scandalous neighbors. Near us were several newspaper men who
+gave the names of the Prince de Monbert, the Messrs. de S., and their
+two beauties. These journalists spoke with bitter contempt of what they
+called the young lions of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, of the rude
+manners of the aristocracy, of the ridiculous scruples of those proud
+legitimists, who feared to compromise themselves in the interests of
+their country, and yet were compromised daily by a thousand
+extravagances; then they related falsehoods that were utterly without
+foundation, and yet were made to appear quite probable by the
+disgraceful conduct of the young men before us. You may imagine how
+cruelly I suffered, both as a fiancée and as a legitimist. I blushed for
+our party in the presence of the enemy; I felt the insult offered to me
+personally less than I did the abuse brought upon our cause. In
+listening to those deserved sneers I detested Messrs. de S. as much as I
+did Roger. I decided during this hour of vexation and shame that I would
+rather always remain simple Madame Gruérin than become the Princess de
+Monbert.
+
+What do you think of this despair, the result of champagne? Ought I not
+to be touched by it? How sweet it is to see one's self so deeply
+regretted!
+
+It is quite poetical and even mythological; Ariadne went no further than
+this. She demanded of Bacchus consolation for the sorrows caused by
+love. How beautifully _he_ sang the hymn to Bacchus in the last act of
+Antigone! He has a fine tenor voice; until now I was not aware of his
+possessing this gift. How happy he seemed among his charming
+companions! Valentine, was I not right in saying that the trial of
+discouragement is infallible? In love despair is a snare; to cease to
+hope is to cease to feign; a man returns to his nature as soon as
+hypocrisy is useless. The Prince has proved to me that he prefers low
+society, that it is his natural element; that he had completely
+metamorphosed himself so as to appear before us as an elegant, refined,
+dignified gentleman!
+
+Oh! this evening he certainly was sincere; his real character was on the
+surface; he made no effort to restrain himself; he was perfectly at
+home, in his element; and one cannot disguise his delight at being in
+his element. There is a carelessness in his movements that betrays his
+self-satisfaction; he struts and spreads himself with an air of
+confidence; he seems to float in the air, to swim on the crest of the
+wave ... People can conceal their delight when they have recognised an
+adored being among a crowd ... can avoid showing that a piece of
+information casually heard is an important fact that they have been
+trying to discover for weeks; ... can hide sudden fear, deep vexation,
+great joy; but they cannot hide this agreeable impression, this
+beatitude that they feel upon suddenly returning to their element, after
+long days of privation and constraint. Well, my dear, the element of
+Monsieur de Monbert is low company. I take credit to myself for not
+saying anything more.
+
+I have often observed these base proclivities in persons of the same
+high condition of life as the Prince. Men brought up in the most refined
+and cultivated society, destined to fill important positions in life,
+take the greatest pleasure in associating-with common people; they
+impose elegance upon themselves as a duty, and indulge in vulgarity as a
+recreation; they have a spite against these charming qualities they are
+compelled to assume, and indemnify themselves for the trouble of
+acquiring them by rendering them mischievously useless when they seek
+low society and attempt to shine where their brilliancy is
+unappreciated. This low tendency of human nature explains the eternal
+struggle between nature and education; explains the taste, the passion
+of intelligent distinguished men for bad company; the more reserved and
+dignified they are in their manners, the more they seek the society of
+worthless men and blemished women. Another reason for this low
+proclivity is the vanity of men; they like to be admired and flattered,
+although they know their admirers are utterly worthless and despicable.
+
+All these turpitudes would be unimportant if our poor nobility were
+still triumphantly occupying their rightful position; but while they are
+struggling to recover their prestige what can be done with such
+representatives? Oh, I hated those little fools who by their culpable
+folly compromised so noble a cause! Can they not see that each of their
+silly blunders furnishes an arm against the principles they defend,
+against their party, against us all? They are at war with a country that
+distrusts their motives and detests and envies their advantages ... and
+they amuse themselves by irritating the country by their aggressive
+hostility and blustering idleness. By thus displaying their ill manners
+and want of sense, it seems as if they wished to justify all the
+accusations of their enemies and gain what they really deserve, a worse
+reputation than they already bear. They are accused of being ignorant
+... they are illiterate! They are accused of being impudent ... They are
+insolent! They are accused of being beasts ... They show themselves to
+be brutes! And yet not much is exacted of them, because they are known
+to be degenerate. Only half what is required from others is expected
+from them. They are not asked for heroism or talent, or genius: they are
+only expected to behave with dignity, they cannot even assume it! They
+are not asked to add to the lustre of their names, they are only
+entreated to respect them--and they drag them in the mire! Ah, these
+people make me die of shame and indignation.
+
+It is from this nursery of worthless, idle young fops that I, Irene de
+Chateaudun, will be forced to choose a husband. No, never will I suffer
+the millions that Providence has bestowed upon me to be squandered upon
+ballet-dancers and the scum of Paris! If it be absolutely necessary that
+my fortune should be enjoyed by women, I will bestow it upon a convent,
+where I will retire for the rest of my life; but I certainly would
+prefer becoming the wife of a poor, obscure, but noble-minded student,
+thirsting for glory and ambitious of making illustrious his plebeian
+name, seeking among the dust of ages for the secret of fame ... than to
+marry one of the degenerate scions of an old family, who crawl around
+crushed by the weight of their formidable name; these little burlesque
+noblemen who retain nothing of their high position but pride and vanity;
+who can neither think, act, work nor suffer for their country; these
+disabled knights who wage war against bailiffs and make their names
+notorious in the police offices and tap-rooms of the Boulevard.
+
+It is glorious to feel flowing in one's veins noble, heroic blood, to be
+intoxicated with youthful pride when studying the history of one's
+country, to see one's school-mates forced to commit to memory as a duty,
+the brilliant record of the heroic deeds of our ancestors! To enter upon
+a smooth path made easy and pleasant for us by those gone before; to be
+already armed with the remembrance of noble deeds, laden with generous
+promises; to have praiseworthy engagements to fulfil, grand hopes to
+realize; to have in the past powerful protectors, inspiring models that
+one can invoke in the hour of crisis like exceptional patrons, like
+saints belonging exclusively to one's own family; to have one's conduct
+traced out by masters of whom we are proud; to have nothing to
+imagine--nothing to originate, no good example to set, nothing to do but
+to nobly continue the work grandly commenced, to keep up the tradition,
+to follow the old routine--it is especially glorious when the tradition
+is of honor, when the routine is of glory.
+
+But who comprehends these sentiments now? Who dares utter these noble
+words without an ironical smile? Only a few helpless believers like
+myself who still energetically but vainly protest against these
+degradations. Some go to Algeria to prove their hereditary bravery and
+obtain the Cross of Honor they are deprived of here; others retire to
+their châteaux and study the fine arts, thus enjoying the only generous
+resource of discouraged souls; surrounded by the true and the beautiful,
+they try to forget an ungrateful and degenerate party. Others, disciples
+of Sully, temper their strength by hard work in the fruitful study of
+sacred science, and become enthusiastic, absorbed husbandmen, in order
+to conceal their misanthropy. But what can they do? Fight all alone for
+a deserted cause? What can the best officers accomplish without
+soldiers?
+
+You see, Valentine, I forget my own sorrows in thinking of our common
+woes; when I reflect upon the sad state of public affairs, I find Roger
+doubly culpable. Possessing so brilliant a mind, such superb talents, he
+could by his influence bring these young fools back to the path of
+honor. How unpardonable it is in him to lead them further astray by his
+dangerous example?
+
+Oh, Valentine! I feel that I am not fitted to live in times like these.
+Everything displeases me. The people of past ages seemed unintelligent,
+impracticable the people of the present day are coarse and
+hypocritical--the former understand nothing, the latter pervert
+everything. The former had not the attainments that I require, the
+latter have not the delicacy that I exact. The world is ugly; I have
+seen enough of it. It is sad to think of one so young as I, just
+entering upon life, having my head weighed down by the cares and
+disappointments of sixty years! For a blonde head this weight is very
+heavy!
+
+What! in this grand world, not one noble being, not one elevated soul
+possessed of high aspirations and a holy respect for love!
+
+For a young woman to own millions and be compelled to hoard them because
+she has no one to bestow them upon! To be rich, young, free, generous,
+and forced to live alone because no worthy partner can be found!...
+
+Valentine, is not this a sad case?
+
+Now my anger is gone--I am only sad, but I am mortally sad.... I know
+not what to do.... Would I could fly to your arms! Ah! mother! my
+mother! why am I left to struggle all alone in this unfeeling world!
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Saint Dominique Street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, June 8th 18--.
+
+She is here! Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!
+
+The same day that you found Irene, I recovered Louise!
+
+In making my tenth pilgrimage from Richeport to Pont de l'Arche, I
+caught a glimpse from afar of Madame Taverneau's plump face encased in a
+superb bonnet embellished with flaming ribbons! The drifting sea-weed
+and floating fruit which were the certain indication to Christopher
+Columbus of the presence of his long-dreamed-of land, did not make his
+heart bound with greater delight than mine at the sight of Madame
+Taverneau's bonnet! For that bonnet was the sign of Louise's return.
+
+Oh! how charming thou didst appear to me then, frightful tulle cabbage,
+with thy flaunting strings like unto an elephant's ears, and thy
+enormous bows resembling those pompons with which horses' heads are
+decorated! How much dearer to me wert thou than the diadem of an
+empress, a vestal's fillet, the ropes of pearls twined among the jetty
+locks of Venice's loveliest patricians, or the richest head-dress of
+antique or modern art!
+
+Ah, but Madame Taverneau was handsome! Her complexion, red as a beet,
+seemed to me fresh as a new-blown rose,--so the poets always say,--I
+could have embraced her resolutely, so happy was I.
+
+The thought that Madame Taverneau might have returned alone flashed
+through my mind ere I reached the threshold, and I felt myself grow
+pale, but a glance through the half-open door drove away my terror.
+There, bending over her table, was Louise, rolling grains of rice in red
+sealing-wax in order to fill the interstices between the seals that she
+had gotten from me, and among which figured marvellously well your crest
+so richly and curiously emblazoned.
+
+A slender thread of light falling upon the soft contour of her
+features, carved in cameo their pure and delicate outline. When she saw
+me a faint blush brightened her pallor like a drop of crimson in a cup
+of milk; she was charming, and so distinguished-looking that, putting
+aside the pencils, the vase of flowers, the colors and the glass of
+clear water beside her, I should never have dreamt that a simple
+screen-painter sat before me.
+
+Isn't it strange, when so many fashionable women in the highest position
+look like apple-sellers or old-clothes women in full dress, that a girl
+in the humblest walks of life should have the air of a princess, in
+spite of her printed cotton gown!
+
+With me, dear Roger, Louise Guérin the grisette has vanished; but Louise
+Guérin, a charming and fascinating creature whom any one would be proud
+to love, has taken her place. You know that with all my oddities, my
+wilfulness, my _Huronisms_ as you call them, the slightest equivocal
+word, the least approach to a bold jest, uttered by feminine lips shocks
+me. Louise has never, in the many conversations that I have had with
+her, alarmed my captious modesty; and often the most innocent young
+girls, the virtuous mothers of a family, have made me blush up to my
+eyes. I am by no means so prudish; I discourse upon Trimalcion's feast
+and the orgies of the twelve Caesars, but certain expressions, used by
+every one, never pass my lips; I imagine that I see toads and serpents
+drop from the tongues of those who speak them: only roses and pearls
+fall from Louise's lips. How many women have fallen in my eyes from the
+rank of a goddess to the condition of a fishwoman, by one word whose
+ignominy I might try in vain to make them understand!
+
+I have told you all this, my dear Roger, so that you may see how from an
+ordinary railway adventure, a slight flirtation, has resulted a serious
+and genuine love. I treat myself and things with rough frankness, and
+closely scan my head and heart, and arrive at the same result--I am
+desperately in love with Louise. The result does not alarm me; I have
+never shrunk from happiness. It is my peculiar style of courage, which
+is rarer than you imagine; I have seen men who would seek the bubble
+reputation even in the cannon's mouth, who had not the courage to be
+happy!
+
+Since her return Louise appears thoughtful and agitated; a change has
+come over the spirit of her dream. It is evident that her journey has
+thrown new light upon her situation. Something important has taken place
+in her life. What is it? I neither know nor care to know. I accept
+Louise as I find her with her present surroundings. Perhaps absence has
+revealed to her, as it has to me, that another existence is necessary to
+her. This at least is certain, she is less shy, less reserved, more
+confiding; there is a tender grace in her manner unfelt before. When we
+walk in the garden, she leans upon my arm, instead of touching it with
+the tips of her fingers. Now, when I am with her, her cold reserve
+begins to thaw, and instead of going on with her work, as formerly, she
+rests her head on her hand and gazes at me with a dreamy fixedness
+singular to behold. She seems to be mentally deliberating something, and
+trying to come to a conclusion. May Eros, with his golden arrows, grant
+that it prove favorable to me! It will prove so, or human will has no
+power, and the magnetic fluid is an error!
+
+We are sometimes alone, but that cursed door is never shut, and Madame
+Taverneau paces up and down outside, coming in at odd moments to enliven
+the conversation with a witticism, in which exercise the good woman,
+unhappily, thinks she excels. She fears that Louise, who is not
+accustomed to the usages of society, may tire me. I am neither a Nero
+nor a Caligula, but many a time have I mentally condemned the honest
+post-mistress to the wild beasts of the Circus!
+
+To get Louise away from this room, whose architecture is by no means
+conducive to love-making, I contrived a boating party to the Andelys,
+with the respectable view of visiting the ruins of Richard
+Coeur-de-Lion's fortress. The ascent is extremely rough, for the donjon
+is poised, like an eagle's nest, upon the summit of a steep rock; and I
+counted upon Madame Taverneau, strangled in her Sunday stays,
+breathless, perspiring, red as a lobster put on hot-water diet, taking
+time half-way up the ascent to groan and fan herself with her
+handkerchief.
+
+Alfred stopped by on his way from Havre, and for once in his life was in
+season. I placed the rudder in his hands, begging at the same time that
+he would spare me his fascinating smiles, winks and knowing glances. He
+promised to be a stock and kept his word, the worthy fellow!
+
+A fresh breeze sprang up in time to take us up the river. We found
+Louise and Madame Taverneau awaiting us upon the pier, built a short
+time since in order to stem the rush of water from the bridge.
+
+Proud of commanding the embarkation, Alfred established himself with
+Madame Taverneau, wrapped in a yellow shawl with a border of green
+flowers, in the stern. Louise and I, in order to balance the boat,
+seated ourselves in the bows.
+
+The full sail made a sort of tent, and isolated us completely from our
+companions. Louise, with only a narrow canvas shaking in the wind
+between her and her chaperon, feeling no cause for uneasiness, was less
+reserved; a third party is often useful in the beginning of a love idyl.
+The most prudish woman in the world will grant slight favors when sure
+they cannot be abused.
+
+Our boat glided through the water, leaving a fringe of silver in its
+wake. Louise had taken off her glove, and, leaning over the side, let
+the water flow in crystal cascades through her ivory fingers; her dress,
+which she gathered round her from the too free gambols of the wind,
+sculptured her beauty by a closer embrace. A few little wild flowers
+scattered their restless leaves over her bonnet, the straw of which, lit
+up by a bright sun-ray, shed around her a sort of halo. I sat at her
+feet, embracing her with my glance; bathing her in magnetic influences;
+surrounding her with an atmosphere of love! I called to my assistance
+all the powers of my mind and heart to make her love me and promise to
+be mine!
+
+Softly I whispered to myself: "Come to my succor, secret forces of
+nature, spring, youth, delicate perfumes, bright rays! Let soft zephyrs
+play around her pure brow; flowers of love, intoxicate her with your
+searching odors; let the god of day mingle his golden beams with the
+purple of her veins; let all living, breathing things whisper in her ear
+that she is beautiful, only twenty, that I am young and that I love
+her!" Are poetical tirades and romantic declarations absolutely
+necessary to make a lovely woman rest her blushing brow upon a young
+man's shoulder?
+
+My burning gaze fascinated her; she sat motionless under my glance. I
+felt my hope sparkle in my eyes; her eyelids slowly drooped; her arms
+sank at her side; her will succumbed to mine; aware of her growing
+weakness, she made a final effort, covered her eyes with her hand, and
+remained several minutes in that attitude in order to recover from the
+radiations of my will.
+
+When she had, in a measure, recovered her self-possession, she turned
+her head towards the river-bank and called my attention to the charming
+effect of a cottage embosomed in trees, from which rickety steps,
+moss-grown and picturesquely studded with flowers, led down to the
+river. One of Isabey's delicious water-colors, dropped here without his
+signature. Louise--for art, no matter how humble, always expands the
+mind--has a taste for the beauties of nature, wanting in nearly her
+whole sex. A flower-stand filled with roses best pleases the majority of
+women, who cultivate a love of flowers in order to provoke anacreontic
+and obsolete comparisons from their antiquated admirers.
+
+The banks of the Seine are truly enchanting. The graceful hills are
+studded with trees and waving corn-fields; here and there a rock peeps
+picturesquely forth; cottages and distant châteaux are betrayed by their
+glittering slate roofs; islets as wild as those of the South Sea rise on
+the bosom of the waters like verdure-clad rafts, and no Captain Cook has
+ever mentioned these Otaheites a half-day's journey from Paris.
+
+Louise intelligently and feelingly admired the shading of the foliage,
+the water rippled by a slight breeze, the rapid flight of the
+kingfisher, the languid swaying to and fro of the water-lily, the
+little forget-me-nots opening their timid blue eyes to the morning sun,
+and all the thousand and one beauties dotted along the river's bank. I
+let her steep her soul in nature's loveliness, which could only teach
+her to love.
+
+In about four hours we reached the Andelys, and after a light lunch of
+fresh eggs, cream, strawberries and cherries, we began the ascent to the
+fortress of the brave king Richard.
+
+Alfred got along famously with Madame Taverneau, having completely
+dazzled her by an account of his high social acquaintance. During the
+voyage he had repeated more names than can be found in the Royal
+Almanac. The good post-mistress listened with respectful deference,
+delighted at finding herself in company with such a highly connected
+individual. Alfred, who is not accustomed, among us, to benevolent
+listeners, gave himself up to the delight of being able to talk without
+fear of interruption from jests and ironical puns. They had charmed each
+other.
+
+The stronghold of Richard Coeur-de-Lion recalls, by its situation and
+architecture, the castles of the Rhine. The stone-work is so confounded
+with the rock that it is impossible to say where nature's work ends or
+man's work begins.
+
+We climbed, Louise and I, in spite of the steep ascent, the loose
+stones, over the ramparts fallen to decay, the brushwood and all sorts
+of obstacles, to the foot of the mass of towers built one within
+another, which form the donjon-keep. Louise was obliged more than once,
+in scrambling up the rocks, to give me her hand and lean upon my
+shoulder. Even when the way was less rugged, she did not put aside her
+unconstrained and confiding manner; her timid and intense reserve began
+to soften a little.
+
+Madame Taverneau, who is not a sylph, hung with all her weight to
+Alfred's arm, and what surprises me is that she did not pull it off.
+
+We made our way through the under-brush, masses of rubbish and crumbling
+walls, to the platform of the massive keep, from whence we saw, besides
+the superb view, far away in the distance, Madame Taverneau's yellow
+shawl, shining through the foliage like a huge beetle.
+
+At this height, so far above the world, intoxicated by the fresh air,
+her cheek dyed a deeper red, her hair loosened from its severe
+fastenings, Louise was dazzlingly and radiantly beautiful; her bonnet
+had fallen off and was only held by the ribbon strings; a handful of
+daisies escaped from her careless grasp.
+
+"What a pity," said I, "that I have not a familiar spirit at my service!
+We should soon see the stones replaced, the towers rise from the grass
+where they have slept so long, and raise their heads in the sunlight;
+the drawbridge slide on its hinges, and men-at-arms in dazzling
+cuirasses pass and repass behind the battlements. You should sit beside
+me as my chatelaine, in the great hall, under a canopy emblazoned with
+armorial bearings, the centre of a brilliant retinue of ladies in
+waiting, archers and varlets. You should be the dove of this kite's
+nest!"
+
+This fancy made her smile, and she replied: "Instead of amusing yourself
+in rebuilding the past, look at the magnificent scene stretched out
+before you."
+
+In fact, the sky was gorgeous; the sun was sinking behind the horizon,
+in a hamlet of clouds, ruined and abandoned to the fury of the names of
+sunset; the darkened hills were shrouded in violet tints; through the
+light mists of the valley the river shone at intervals like the polished
+surface of a Damascus blade. The blue smoke ascended from the chimneys
+of the village of Andelys, nestling at the foot of the mountain; the
+silvery tones of the bells ringing the Angelus came to us on the evening
+breeze; Venus shone soft and pure in the western sky. Madame Taverneau
+had not yet joined us; Alfred's fascinations had made her forget her
+companion.
+
+Louise, uneasy at being so long separated from her chaperon, leaned over
+the edge of the battlement. A stone, which only needed the weight of a
+tired swallow to dislodge it, rolled from Under Louise's foot, who,
+terribly frightened, threw herself in my arms. I held her for a moment
+pressed to my heart. She was very pale; her head was thrown back, the
+dizziness of lofty heights had taken possession of her.
+
+"Do not let me fall; my head whirls!"
+
+"Fear not," I replied; "I am holding you, and the spirit of the gulf
+shall not have you."
+
+"Ouf! What an insane idea, to climb like cats over this old pile of
+stones!" cried Alfred, who had finally arrived, dragging after him
+Madame Taverneau, who with her shawl looked like a poppy in a
+corn-field. We left the tower and gained our boat. Louise threw me a
+tearful and grateful glance, and seated herself by Madame Taverneau. A
+tug-boat passed us; we hailed it; it threw us a rope, and in a few hours
+we were at Pont de l'Arche.
+
+This is a faithful account of our expedition; it is nothing, and yet a
+great deal. It is sufficient to show me that I possess some influence
+over Louise; that my look fascinates her, my voice affects her, my touch
+agitates her; for one moment I held her trembling against my heart; she
+did not repulse me. It is true that by a little feminine Jesuitism,
+common enough, she might ascribe all this to vertigo, a sort of vertigo
+common to youth and love, which has turned more heads than all the
+precipices of Mount Blanc!
+
+What a strange creature is Louise! An inexplicable mixture of acute
+intelligence and virgin modesty, displaying at the same time an
+ignorance and information never imagined. These piquant contrasts make
+me admire her all the more. The day after to-morrow Madame Taverneau is
+going on business to Rouen. Louise will be alone, and I intend to repeat
+the donjon scene, with improvements and deprived of the inopportune
+appearance of Madame Taverneau's yellow shawl and the luckless Alfred's
+green hunting-dress. What delicious dreams will visit me to-night in my
+hammock at Richeport!
+
+My next letter will begin, I hope, with this triumphant line of the
+Chevalier de Bertin:
+
+  "Elle est à moi, divinités du Pinde!"
+
+Good-bye, my dear Roger. I wish you good luck in your search. Since you
+have once seen Irene, she cannot wear Gyges' ring. You may meet her
+again; but if you have to make your way through six Boyars, three
+Moldavians, eleven bronze statues, ten check-sellers, crush a multitude
+of King Charles spaniels, upset a crowd of fruit-stands, go straight as
+a bullet towards your beauty; seize her by the tip of her wing, politely
+but firmly, like a gendarme; for the Prince Roger de Monbert must not be
+the plaything of a capricious Parisian heiress.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES;
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+PONT DE L'ARCHE, June 18th 18--.
+
+I have only time to send you a line with the box of ribbons The trunk
+will go to-morrow by the stage. I would have sent it before, but the
+children's boots were not done. It is impossible to get anything done
+now--the storekeepers say they can't get workmen, the workmen say they
+can't get employment. Blanchard will be in Paris to superintend its
+packing. If you are not pleased with your things, especially the blue
+dress and mauve bonnet, I despair of ever satisfying you. I did not take
+your sashes to Mlle. _Vatelin_. It was Prince de Monbert's fault; in
+passing along the Boulevards I saw him talking to a gentleman--I turned
+into Panorama street--he followed me, and to elude him I went into the
+Chinese store. M. de Monbert remained outside; I bought some tea, and
+telling the woman I would send for it, went out by the opposite door
+which opens on Vivienne street. The Prince, who has been away from Paris
+for ten years, was not aware of this store having two exits, so in this
+way I escaped him. This hateful prince is also the cause of my returning
+here. The day after that wretched evening at the Odeon, I went to
+inquire about my cousin. There I found that Madame de Langeac had left
+Fontainebleau and gone to Madame de H.'s, where they are having private
+theatricals. She returns to Paris in ten days, where she begs me to wait
+for her. I also heard that M. de Monbert had had quite a scene with the
+porter on the same morning--insisting that he had seen me, and that he
+would not be put off by lying servants any longer; his language and
+manner quite shocked the household. The prospect of a visit from him
+filled me with fright. I returned to my garret--Madame Taverneau was
+anxiously waiting for my return, and carried me off without giving me
+anytime for reflection; so I am here once more. Perhaps you think that
+in this rural seclusion, under the shade of these willows, I ought to
+find tranquillity? Just the reverse. A new danger threatens me; I escape
+from a furious prince, to be ensnared by a delirious poet. I went away
+leaving M. de Meilhan gracious, gallant, but reasonable; I return to
+find him presuming, passionate, foolish. It makes me think that absence
+increases my attractiveness, and separation clothes me with new charms.
+
+This devotion is annoying, and I am determined to nip it in the bud; it
+fills me with a horrible dread that in no way resembles the charming
+fear I have dreamed of. The young poet takes a serious view of the
+flattery I bestowed upon him only in order to discover what his friend
+had written about me; he has persuaded himself that I love him, and I
+despair of being able to dispel the foolish notion.
+
+I have uselessly assumed the furious air of an angry Minerva, the
+majestic deportment of the Queen of England opening Parliament, the
+prudish, affected behavior of a school-mistress on promenade; all this
+only incites his hopes. If it were love it might be seductive and
+dangerous, but it is nothing more than magnetism.... You may laugh, but
+it is surely this and nothing else; he acts as if he were under some
+spell of fascination; he looks at me in a malevolent way that he thinks
+irresistible.... But I find it unendurable. I shall end by frankly
+telling him that in point of magnetism I am no longer free ... "that I
+love another," as the vaudeville says, and if he asks who is this other,
+I shall smilingly tell him, "it is the famous disciple of Mesmer, Dr.
+Dupotet."
+
+Yesterday his foolish behavior was very near causing my death. Alarmed
+by an embarrassing tête-à-tête in the midst of an old castle we were
+visiting, I mounted the window-sill in one of the towers to call Madame
+Taverneau, whom I saw at the foot of the hill; the stone on which I
+stood gave way, and if M. de Meilhan had not shown great presence of
+mind and caught me, I would have fallen down a precipice forty feet
+deep! Instant death would have been the result. Oh! how frightened I
+was! I tremble yet. My terror was so great that I would have fainted if
+I had had a little more confidence; but another fear made me recover
+from this. Fortunately I am going away from here, and this trifling will
+be over.
+
+Yes, certainly I will accompany you to Geneva. Why can't we go as far as
+Lake Como? What a charming trip to take, and what comfort we will enjoy
+in my nice carriage! You must know that my travelling-carriage is a
+wonder; it is being entirely renovated, and directly it is finished, I
+will jump in it and fly to your arms. Of course you will ask what I am
+to do with a travelling-carriage--I who have never made but one journey
+in my life, and that from the Marais to the Faubourg Saint Honoré? I
+will reply, that I bought this carriage because I had the opportunity;
+it is a chef-d'oeuvre. There never was a handsomer carriage made in
+London. It was invented--and you will soon see what a splendid invention
+it is--for an immensely rich English lady who is always travelling, and
+who is greatly distressed at having to sell it, but she believes herself
+pursued by an audacious young lover whom she wishes to get rid of, and
+as he has always recognised her by her carriage, she parts with it in
+order to put him off her track. She is an odd sort of woman whom they
+call Lady Penock; she resembles Levassor in his English rôles; that is
+to say, she is a caricature. Levassor would not dare to be so
+ridiculous.
+
+Good-bye, until I see you. When I think that in one month we shall be
+together again, I forget all my sorrows.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, June 19th 18--.
+
+It is useless to slander the police; we are obliged to resort to them in
+our dilemmas; the police are everywhere, know everything, and are
+infallible. Without the police Paris would go to ruin; they are the
+hidden fortification, the invisible rampart of the capital; its numerous
+agents are the detached forts. Fouché was the Vauban of this wonderful
+system, and since Fouché's time, the art has been steadily approaching
+perfection. There is to-day, in every dark corner of the city an eye
+that watches over our fifty-four gates, and an ear that hears the
+pulsations of all the streets, those great arteries of Paris.
+
+The incapacity of my own agents making me despair of discovering
+anything; I went to the Polyphemus of Jerusalem street, a giant whose
+ever open eye watches every Ulysses. They told me in the office--Return
+in three days.
+
+Three centuries that I had to struggle through! How many centuries I
+have lived during the last month!
+
+The police! Why did not this luminous idea enter my mind before?
+
+At this office of public secrets they said to me: Mlle. de Chateaudun
+left Paris five days ago. On the 12th she passed the night at Sens; she
+then took the route to Burgundy; changed horses at Villevallier, and on
+the 14th stopped at the château of Madame de Lorgeville, seven miles
+from Avallon.
+
+The particularity of this information startled me. What wonderful
+clock-work! What secret wheels! What intelligent mechanism! It is the
+machine of Marly applied to a human river. At Rome a special niche would
+have been devoted to the goddess of Police.
+
+What a lesson to us! How circumspect it should make us! Our walls are
+diaphanous, our words are overheard; our steps are watched ...
+everything said and done reaches by secret informers and invisible
+threads the central office of Jerusalem street. It is enough to make one
+tremble!!!
+
+_At the château of Mad. de Lorgeville_!
+
+I walked along repeating this sentence to myself, with a thousand
+variations: At the château of Mad. de Lorgeville.
+
+After a decennial absence, I know nobody in Paris--I am just as much of
+a stranger as the ambassador of Siam.... Who knows Mad. de Lorgeville?
+M. de Balaincourt is the only person in Paris who can give me the
+desired information--he is a living court calendar. I fly to see M. de
+Balaincourt.
+
+This oracle answers me thus: Mad. de Lorgeville is a very beautiful
+woman, between twenty-four and twenty-six years of age. She possesses a
+magnificent _mezzo-soprano_ voice, and twenty thousand dollars income.
+She learnt miniature painting from Mad. Mirbel, and took singing lessons
+from Mad. Damoyeau. Last winter she sang that beautiful duo from Norma,
+with the Countess Merlin, at a charity concert.
+
+I requested further details.
+
+Madame de Lorgeville is the sister of the handsome Léon de Varèzes.
+
+Oh! ray of light! glimmer of sun through a dark cloud!
+
+The handsome Léon de Varèzes! The ugly idea of troubadour beauty! A fop
+fashioned by his tailor, and who passes his life looking at his figure
+reflected in four mirrors as shiny and cold as himself!
+
+I pressed M. de Balaincourt's hand and once again plunged into the
+vortex of Paris.
+
+If the handsome Léon were only hideous I would feel nothing but
+indifference towards him, but he has more sacred rights to my hatred, as
+you will see.
+
+Three months ago this handsome Léon made a proposal of marriage to Mlle.
+de Chateaudun--she refused him. This is evidently a preconcerted plan;
+or it is a ruse. The handsome Léon had a lady friend well known by
+everybody but himself, and he has deferred this marriage in order to
+gild, after the manner of Ruolz, his last days of bachelorhood;
+meanwhile Mlle. de Chateaudun received her liberty, and during this
+truce I have played the rôle of suitor. Either of these conjectures is
+probable--both may be true--one is sufficient to bring about a
+catastrophe!
+
+This fact is certain, the handsome Léon is at the waters of Ems enjoying
+his expiring hours of single-blessedness in the society of his painted
+friend, and his family are keeping Mile. de Chateaudun at the Château de
+Lorgeville till the season at Ems is over. In a few days the handsome
+Léon, on pretence of important business, will leave his Dulcinea, and,
+considering himself freed from an unlawful yoke, will come to the
+Château de Lorgeville to offer his innocent hand and pure homage to
+Mile. de Chateaudun. In whatever light the matter is viewed, I am a
+dupe--a butt! I know well that people say: "_Prince Roger is a good
+fellow_" With this reputation a man is exposed to all the feline
+wickedness of human nature, but when once aroused "the good fellow" is
+transformed, and all turn pale in his presence.
+
+No, I can never forgive a woman who holds before me a picture of bliss,
+and then dashes it to the ground--she owes me this promised happiness,
+and if she tries to fly from me I have a right to cry "stop thief."
+
+Ah! Mlle. de Chateaudun, you thought you could break my heart, and leave
+me nothing to cherish but the phantom of memory! Well! I promise you
+another ending to your play than you looked for! We will meet again!
+
+Stupid idiot that I was, to think of writing her an apology to vindicate
+my innocent share of the scene at the Odeon! Vindication well spared!
+How she would have laughed at my honest candor!... She shall not have an
+opportunity of laughing! Dear Edgar, in writing these disconsolate lines
+I have lost the calmness that I had imposed upon myself when I began my
+letter. I feel that I am devoured by that internal demon that bears a
+woman's name in the language of love--jealousy! Yes, jealousy fills my
+soul with bitterness, encircles my brow with a band of iron, and makes
+me feel a frenzied desire to murder some fellow-being! During my travels
+I lost the tolerant manners of civilization. I have imbibed the rude
+cruelty of savages--my jealousy is filled with the storms and fire of
+the equator.
+
+What do you pale effeminate young men know of jealousy? Is not your
+professor of jealousy the actor who dashes about on the stage with a
+paste-board sword?
+
+I have studied the monster under other masters; tigers have taught me
+how to manage this passion.
+
+Dear Edgar, once night overtook us amidst the ruins of the fort that
+formerly defended the mouth of the river Caveri in Bengal. It was a dark
+night illumined by a single star like the lamp of the subterranean
+temple of Elephanta. But this lone star was sufficient to throw light
+upon the formidable duel that took place before us upon the sloping bank
+of the ruined fort.
+
+It was the season of love ... how sweet is the sound of these words!
+
+A tawny monster with black spots, belonging to the fair sex of her noble
+race, was calmly quenching her thirst in the river Caveri--after she had
+finished drinking she squatted on her hind feet and stretched her
+forepaws in front of her breast--sphinx-like--and luxuriously rubbed her
+head in and out among the soft leaves scattered on the riverside.
+
+At a little distance the two lovers watched--not with their eyes but
+with their nostrils and ears, and their sharp growl was like the breath
+of the khamsin passing through the branches of the euphorbium and the
+nopal. The two monsters gradually reached the paroxysm of amorous rage;
+they flattened their ears, sharpened their claws, twisted their tails
+like flexible steel, and emitted sparks of fire from eyes and skin.
+
+During this prelude the tigress stretched herself out with stoical
+indifference, pretending to take no interest in the scene--as if she
+were the only animal of her race in the desert. At intervals she would
+gaze with delight at the reflected image of her grace and beauty in the
+river Caveri.
+
+A roar that seemed to burst from the breast of a giant crushed beneath a
+rock, echoed through the solitude. One of the tigers described an
+immense circle in the air and then fell upon the neck of his rival. The
+two tawny enemies stood up on their hind legs, clenching each other like
+two wrestlers, body to body, muzzle to muzzle, teeth to teeth, and
+uttering shrill, rattling cries that cut through the air like the
+clashing of steel blades. Ordinary huntsmen would have fired upon this
+monstrous group. We judged it more noble to respect the powerful hate of
+this magnificent love. As usual the aggressor was the strongest; he
+threw his rival to the ground, crushed him with his whole weight, tore
+him with his claws, and then fastening his long teeth in his victim's
+throat, laid him dead upon the grass--uttering, as he did so, a cry of
+triumph that rang through the forest like the clarion of a conqueror.
+
+The tigress remained in the same spot, quietly licking her paw, and when
+it was quite wet rubbed it over her muzzle and ears with imperturbable
+serenity and charming coquetry.
+
+This scene contained a lesson for both sexes, my dear Edgar. When nature
+chooses our masters she chooses wisely.
+
+Heaven preserve you from jealousy! I do not mean to honor by this name
+that fickle, unjust, common-place sentiment that we feel when our vanity
+assumes the form of love. The jealousy that gnaws my heart is a noble
+and legitimate passion. Not to avenge one's self is to give a premium of
+encouragement to wicked deeds. The forgiveness of wrongs and injuries
+puts certain men and women too much at their ease. Vengeance is
+necessary for the protection of society.
+
+Dear Edgar, tell me of your love; fear not to wound me by a picture of
+your happiness; my heart is too sympathetic for that. Tell me the traits
+that please you most in the object of your tenderness. Let your soul
+expand in her sweet smiles--revel in the intoxicating bliss of those
+long happy talks filled with the enchanting grace and music of a first
+love.
+
+After reading my letter, remove my gloomy picture from your mind--forget
+me quietly; let not a thought of my misery mar your present happiness.
+
+I intend to honor the handsome Léon by devoting my personal attention to
+his future fate.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street (Paris).
+
+RICHEPORT, June 23d 18--.
+
+You place a confidence in the police worthy the prince you are, dear
+Roger; you rely upon their information with a faith that surprises and
+alarms me. How do you expect the police to know anything concerning
+honest people? Never having watched them, being too much occupied with
+scoundrels, they do not know how to go about it. Spies and detectives
+are generally miserable wretches, their name even is a gross insult in
+our language; they are acquainted with the habits and movements of
+thieves, whose dens and haunts they frequent; but what means have they
+of fathoming the whimsical motives of a high-born young girl? Their
+forte is in making a servant drunk, bribing a porter, following a
+carriage or standing sentinel before a door. If Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun has gone away to avoid you, she will naturally suppose that
+you will endeavor to follow her. Of course, she has taken every
+precaution to preserve her incognita--changing her name, for
+instance--which would be sufficient to mystify the police, who, until
+applied to by you, have had no object in watching her movements. The
+proof that the police are mistaken is the exactitude of the information
+that they have given you. It is too much like the depositions of
+witnesses in a criminal trial, who say: "Two years ago, at thirty-three
+minutes and five seconds after nine o'clock in the evening, I met, in
+the dark, a slender man, whose features I could not distinguish, who
+wore olive-green pantaloons, with a brownish tinge." I am very much
+afraid that your expedition into Burgundy will be of none avail, and
+that, haggard-eyed and morose, you will drop in upon a quiet family
+utterly amazed at your domiciliary visit.
+
+My dear Prince, endeavor to recollect that you are not in India; the
+manners of the Sunda Isles do not prevail here, and I feared from your
+letter some desperate act which would put you in the power of your
+friends, the police. In Europe we have professors of æsthetics,
+Sanscrit, Slavonic, dancing and fencing, but professors of jealousy are
+not authorized. There is no chair in the College of France for wild
+beasts; lessons expressed in roarings and in blows from savage paws do
+very well for the fabulous tiger city of Java legends. If you are
+jealous, try to deprive your rival of the railroad grant which he was
+about to obtain, or ruin him in his electoral college by spreading the
+report that, in his youth, he had written a volume of sonnets. This is
+constitutional revenge which will not bring you before the bar of
+justice. The courts now-a-days are so tricky that they might give you
+some trouble even for suppressing such an insipid fop as Léon de
+Varèzes. Tigers, whatever you may say, are bad instructors. With regard
+to tigers, we only tolerate cats, and then they must have velvet paws.
+
+These counsels of moderation addressed to you, I have profited by
+myself, for, in another way, I have reached a fine degree of
+exasperation. You suspect, of course, that Louise Guérin is at the
+bottom of it, for a woman is always at the bottom of every man's
+madness. She is the leaven that ferments all our worst passions.
+
+Madame Taverneau set out for Rouen; I went to see Louise, my heart full
+of joy and hope. I found her alone, and at first thought that the
+evening would be decisive, for she blushed high on seeing me. But who
+the deuce can count upon women! I left her the evening before, sweet,
+gentle and confiding; I found her cold, stern, repelling and talking to
+me as if she had never seen me before. Her manner was so convincing that
+nothing had passed between us, that I found it necessary to take a rapid
+mental survey of all the occurrences of our expedition to the Andelys to
+prove to myself that I was not somebody else. I may have a thousand
+faults, but vanity is not among them. I rarely flatter myself,
+consequently I am not prone to believe that every one is thunder-struck,
+in the language of the writers of the past century, on beholding me. My
+interpretation of glances, smiles, tones of the voice are generally
+very faithful; I do not pass over expressions that displease me. I put
+this interpretation upon Louise's conduct. I do not feel an insuperable
+dislike to M. Edgar de Meilhan. Sure of the meaning of my text, I acted
+upon it, but Louise assumed such imposing and royal airs, such haughty
+and disdainful poses, that unless I resorted to violence I felt I could
+obtain nothing from her. Rage, instead of love, possessed me; my hands
+clenched convulsively, driving the nails into my flesh. The scene would
+have turned into a struggle. Fortunately, I reflected that such
+emphasized declarations of love, with the greater part of romantic and
+heroic actions, were not admitted in the Code.
+
+I left abruptly, lest the following elegant announcement should appear
+in the police gazettes: "Mr. Edgar de Meilhan, landed proprietor, having
+made an attack upon Madame Louise Guérin, screen-painter, &c."--for I
+felt the strongest desire to strangle the object of my devotion, and I
+think I should have done so had I remained ten minutes longer.
+
+Admire, dear Roger, the wisdom of my conduct, and endeavor to imitate
+it. It is more commendable to control one's passions than an army, and
+it is more difficult.
+
+My wrath was so great that I went to Mantes to see Alfred! To open the
+door of paradise and then shut it in my face, spread before me a
+splendid banquet and prevent me from sitting down to it, promise me love
+and then offer me prudery, is an infamous, abominable and even
+indelicate act. Do you know, dear Roger, that I just escaped looking
+like a goose; the rage that possessed me gave a tragic expression to my
+features, which alone saved me from ridicule! Such things we never
+forgive a woman, and Louise shall pay me yet!
+
+I swear to you that if a woman of my own rank had acted thus towards me,
+I should have crushed her without mercy; but Louise's humble position
+restrained me. I feel a pity for the weak which will be my ruin; for the
+weak are pitiless towards the strong.
+
+Poor Alfred must be an excellent fellow not to have thrown me out of
+the window. I was so dull with him, so provoking, so harsh, so scoffing,
+that I am astonished that he could endure me for two minutes. My nerves
+were in such a state of irritation that I beheaded with my whip more
+than five hundred poppies along the road. I who never have committed an
+assault upon any foliage, whose conscience is innocent of the murder of
+a single flower! For a moment I had a notion to ask a catafalque of the
+romantic Marquise. You may judge from that the disordered state of my
+faculties and my complete moral prostration.
+
+At last, ashamed of abusing Alfred's hospitality in such a manner, and
+feeling incapable of being anything else than irritable, cross-grained
+and intractable, I returned to Richeport, to be as gloomy and
+disagreeable as I pleased.
+
+Here, dear Roger, I pause--I take time, as the actors say; it is worth
+while. As fluently as you may read hieroglyphics, and explain on the
+spot the riddles of the sphinx, you can never guess what I found at
+Richeport, in my mother's room! A white black-bird? a black swan? a
+crocodile? a megalonyx? Priest John or the amorabaquin? No, something
+more enchantingly improbable, more wildly impossible. What was it? I
+will tell you, for a hundred million guesses would never bring you
+nearer the truth.
+
+Near the window, by my mother's side, sat a young woman, bending over an
+embroidery frame, threading a needle with red worsted. At the sound of
+my voice she raised her head and I recognised--Louise Gruérin!
+
+At this unexpected sight, I stood stupified, like Pradon's Hippolyte.
+
+To see Louise Guérin quietly seated in my mother's room, was as
+electrifying as if you, on going home some morning, were to find Irene
+de Chateaudun engaged in smoking one of your cigars. Did some strange
+chance, some machiavellian combination introduce Louise at Richeport? I
+shall soon know.
+
+What a queer way to avoid men, to take up one's abode among them! Only
+prudes have such ideas. At any rate it is a gross insult to my powers
+of fascination. I am not such a patriarch as all that! My head still
+counts a few hairs, and I can walk very well without a cane!
+
+What does it matter, after all? Louise lives under the same roof with
+me, my mother treats her in the most gracious manner, like an equal.
+And, indeed, one would be deceived by her; she seems more at her ease
+here than at Madame Taverneau's, and what would be a restraint on a
+woman of her class, on the contrary gives her more liberty. Her manners
+have become charming, and I often ask myself if she is not the daughter
+of one of Madame de Meilhan's friends. With wonderful tact she
+immediately put herself in unison with her surroundings; women alone can
+quickly become acclimated in a higher sphere. A man badly brought up
+always remains a booby. Any danseuse taken from the foot-lights of the
+Opera by the caprice of a great lord, can be made a fine lady. Nature
+has doubtless provided for these sudden elevations of fortune by
+bestowing upon women that marvellous facility of passing from one
+position to another without exhibiting surprise or being thrown out of
+their element. Put Louise into a carriage having a countess's crown upon
+the panel of the door, and no one would doubt her rank. Speak to her,
+and she would reply as if she had had the most brilliant education. The
+auspicious opening of a flower transplanted into a soil that suits it,
+shone through Louise's whole being. My manner towards her partakes of a
+tenderer playfulness, a more affectionate gallantry. After all,
+Richeport is better than Pont de l'Arche, for there is nothing like
+fighting on your own ground.
+
+Come then, my friend, and be a looker-on at the courteous tournay. We
+expect Raymond every day; we have all sorts of paradoxes to convert into
+truths; your insight into such matters might assist us. _A bientôt_.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+RICHEPORT, June 29th 18--.
+
+I am at Richeport, at Madame de Meilhan's house!... This astonishes you,
+... so it does me; you don't understand it, ... neither do I. The fact
+is, that when you can't control events, the best thing to be done is to
+let events control you.
+
+On Sunday I went to hear mass in the beautiful church at Pont de
+l'Arche, a splendid ruin that looks like a heap of stony lacework,
+lovely guipure torn to pieces; while I was there a lady came in and sat
+beside me; it was Madame de Meilhan. I recognised her at once, having
+been accustomed to seeing her every Sunday at mass. As it was late, and
+the services were almost ended, I thought it very natural that she
+should sit by me to avoid walking the length of the aisle to reach her
+own pew, so I continued to read my prayers without paying any attention
+to her, but she fastened her eyes upon me in such a peculiar way that I,
+in my turn, felt compelled to look up at her, and was startled by the
+alteration of her face; suddenly she tottered and fell fainting on
+Madame Taverneau's shoulder. She was taken out of the church, and the
+fresh air soon restored her to consciousness. She seemed agitated when
+she saw me near her, but the interest I showed in her sickness seemed to
+reassure her; she gracefully thanked me for my kind attention, and then
+looked at me in a way that was very embarrassing. I invited her to
+return with me to Madame Taverneau's and rest herself; she accepted the
+offer, and Madame Taverneau carried her off with great pomp. There
+Madame de Meilhan explained how she had walked alone from Richeport in
+spite of the excessive heat, at the risk of making herself ill, because
+her son had taken the coachman and horses and left home suddenly that
+morning without saying where he was going. As she said this she looked
+at me significantly. I bore these questioning looks with proud
+calmness. I must tell you that the evening before, M de Meilhan had
+called on me during the absence of Madame Taverneau and her husband. The
+danger of the situation inspired me. I treated him with such coldness, I
+reached a degree of dignity so magnificent that the great poet finally
+comprehended there are some glaciers inaccessible, even to him. He left
+me, furious and disconsolate, but I do him the justice to say that he
+was more disconsolate than furious. This real sorrow made me think
+deeply. If he loved me seriously, how culpable was my conduct! I had
+been too coquettish towards him; he could not know that this coquetry
+was only a ruse; that while appearing to be so devoted to him my whole
+mind was filled with another. Sincere love should always be respected;
+one is not compelled to share it, but then one has no right to insult
+it.
+
+The uneasiness of Madame de Meilhan; her conduct towards me--for I was
+certain she had purposely come late to mass and taken a seat by me for
+the purpose of speaking to me and finding out what sort of a person I
+was--the uneasiness of this devoted mother was to me a language more
+convincing of the sincerity of her son's sentiments than all the
+protestations of love he could have uttered in years. A mother's anxiety
+is an unmistakable symptom; it is more significant than all others. The
+jealousy of a rival is not so certain an indication; distrustful love
+may be deceived, but maternal instinct _never_ is. Now, to induce a
+woman of Madame de Meilhan's spirit and character to come agitated and
+trembling to see me, ... why, I can say it without vanity, her son must
+be madly in love, and she wished at all costs either to destroy or cure
+this fatal passion that made him so unhappy.
+
+When she arose to leave, I asked permission to walk back with her to
+Richeport, as she was not well enough to go so far alone; she eagerly
+accepted my offer, and as we went along, conversing upon indifferent
+subjects, her uneasiness gradually disappeared; our conversation seemed
+to relieve her mind of its heavy burden.
+
+It happened that truth spoke for itself, as it always does, but
+unfortunately is not always listened to. By my manners, the tone of my
+voice, my respectful but dignified politeness--which in no way resembled
+Mad. Taverneau's servile and obsequious eagerness to please, her humble
+deference being that of an inferior to a superior, whilst mine was
+nothing more than that due to an old lady from a young one--by these
+shades insignificant to the generality of people, but all revealing to
+an experienced eye, Mad. de Meilhan at once divined everything, that is
+to say, that I was her equal in rank, education and nobility of soul;
+she knew it, she felt it. This fact admitted, one thing remained
+uncertain; why had I fallen from my rank in society? Was it through
+misfortune or error? This was the question she was asking herself.
+
+I knew enough of her projects for the future, her ambition as a mother,
+to decide which of the two suppositions would alarm her most. If I were
+a light, trifling woman, as she every now and then seemed to hope, her
+son was merely engaged in a flirtation that would have no dangerous
+result; if on the contrary I was an honorable woman, which she evidently
+feared might be the case, her son's future was ruined, and she trembled
+for the consequences of this serious passion. Her perplexity amused me.
+The country around us was superb, and as we walked along I went into
+ecstasies over the beauty of the scenery and the lovely tints of the
+sky; she would smile and think: "She is only an artist, an
+adventuress--I am saved; she will merely be Edgar's friend, and keep him
+all the winter at Richeport." Alas! it is a great pity that she is not
+rich enough to spend the winter in Paris with Edgar; she seems miserable
+at being separated from him for months at a time.
+
+At a few yards from the châteaux a group of pretty children chasing a
+poor donkey around a little island attracted my attention.
+
+"That island formerly belonged to the Richeport estate," said Mad. de
+Meilhan; "so did those large meadows you see down below; the height of
+my ambition is to buy them back, but to do this Edgar must marry an
+heiress."
+
+This word troubled me, and Mad. de Meilhan seemed annoyed. She evidently
+thought: "She is an honest woman, and wants to marry Edgar, I fear," I
+took no notice of her sudden coldness of manner, but thought to myself:
+How delightful it would be to carry out these ambitious plans, and
+gratify every wish of this woman's heart! I have but to utter one word,
+and not only would she have this island and these meadows, but she would
+possess all this beautiful forest. Oh! how sweet would it be to feel
+that you are a small Providence on earth, able to penetrate and
+instantly gratify the secret wishes of people you like! Valentine, I
+begin to distrust myself; a temptation like this is too dangerous for a
+nature like mine; I feel like saying to this noble, impoverished lady:
+here, take these meadows, woods and islands that you so tenderly sigh
+for--I could also say to this despairing young poet: here, take this
+woman that you so madly love, marry her and be happy ... without
+remembering that this woman is myself; without stopping to ask if this
+happiness I promise him will add to my own.
+
+Generosity is to me dangerously attractive! How I would love to make the
+fortune of a noble poet! I am jealous of these foreigners who have
+lately given us such lessons in generosity. I would be so happy in
+bestowing a brilliant future upon one who chose and loved me in my
+obscurity, but to do this love is necessary, and my heart is
+broken--dead! I have no love to give.
+
+Then again, M. de Meilhan has so much originality of character, and I
+admit only originality of mind. He puts his horse in his chamber, which
+is an original idea, to be sure; but I think horses had better be kept
+in the stable, where they would certainly be more comfortable. And these
+dreadful poets are such positive beings! Poets are not poetical, my dear
+... Edgar has become romantic since he has been in love with me, but I
+think it is an hypocrisy, and I mistrust his love.
+
+Edgar is undeniably a talented, superior man, and captivating, as the
+beautiful Marquise de R. has proved; but I fail to recognise in his love
+the ideal I dreamed of. It is not the expression of an eye that he
+admires, it is the fine shape of the lids, limpid pupils; it is not the
+ingenuous grace of a smile that pleases him, it is the regularity of the
+lines, the crimson of the lips; to him beauty of soul adds no charm to a
+lovely face. Therefore, this love that a word of mine can render
+legitimate, frightens me as if it were a guilty passion; it makes me
+uneasy and timid. I know you will ridicule me when I say that upon me
+this passionate poet has the same effect as women abounding in
+imagination and originality of mind have upon men, who admire but never
+marry them. He has none of that affectionate gravity so necessary in a
+husband. On every subject our ideas differ; this different way of seeing
+things would cause endless disputes between us, or what is sadder yet,
+mutual sacrifices. Everybody adores the charming Edgar, I say Edgar, for
+it is by this name I daily hear him praised. I wish I could love him
+too! He was astonished to find me at his mother's house yesterday. Since
+my first visit to Richeport, Mad. de Meilhan would not allow a single
+day to pass without my seeing her; each day she contrived a new pretext
+to attract me; a piece of tapestry work to be designed, a view of the
+Abbey to be painted, a new book to read aloud or some music to try; the
+other evening it was raining torrents when I was about leaving and she
+insisted upon my staying all night; now she wishes me to remain for her
+birthday, which is on the 5th; she continues to watch me closely. Mad.
+Taverneau has been questioned--the mute, Blanchard, has been tortured
+... Mad. Taverneau replied that she had known me for three years and
+that during this time I had never ceased to mourn for the late Albert
+Guérin; in her zeal she added that he was a very deserving young man! My
+good Blanchard contented herself with saying that I was worth more than
+Mad. de Meilhan and all of her family put together. While they study me
+I study them. There is no danger in my remaining at Richeport. Edgar
+respects his mother--she watches over me. If necessary, I will tell her
+everything.... She speaks kindly of Mlle. de Chateaudun--she defends
+me.... How I laughed to myself this morning! I heard that M. de Monbert
+had secretly applied to the police to discover my whereabouts and the
+police sent him to join me at Burgundy!... What could have made any one
+think I was there? At whose house will he go to seek me? and whom will
+he find instead of me? However, I may be there before long if my cousin
+will travel by way of Macon. She will not be ready to start before next
+week.
+
+Oh! I am so anxious to see you again! Do not go to Geneva without me.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, July 2d 18--.
+
+Do you believe, my dear Edgar, that it is easy to live when the age of
+love is passed? Verily one must be able to love his whole lifetime if he
+wishes to live an enchanted life, and die a painless death. What a
+seductive game! what unexpected luck! How many moments delightfully
+employed! Each day has its particular history; at night we delight in
+telling it over to ourselves, and indulge in the wildest conjectures as
+to what will be the events of each to-morrow. The reality of to-day
+defeats the anticipations of yesterday. We hope one moment and despair
+the next--now dejected, now elated. We alternate between death and
+blissful life.
+
+The other morning at nine o'clock we stopped at the stage-office at Sens
+for ten minutes. I went into the hotel and questioned everybody, and
+found they had seen many young ladies of the age, figure and beauty of
+Mlle. de Chateaudun.
+
+Happy people they must be!
+
+However, I only asked all these questions to amuse myself during the ten
+minutes' relay. My mind was at rest--for the police are infallible;
+everything will be explained at the Château de Lorgeville. I stopped my
+carriage some yards from the gate, got out and walked up the long
+avenue, being concealed by the large trees through which I caught
+glimpses of the château.
+
+It was a large symmetrical building--a stone quadrangle, heavily topped
+off by a dark slate roof, and a dejected-looking weathercock that
+rebelled against the wind and declined to move.
+
+All the windows in the front of the house were tear-stained at the base
+by the winter rains.
+
+A modern entrance, with double flights of steps decorated by four vases
+containing four dead aloe-stems buried in straw, betrayed the cultivated
+taste of the handsome Léon.
+
+I expected to see the shadow of a living being.... No human outline
+broke the tranquil shade of the trees.
+
+An accursed dog, man's worst enemy, barked furiously, and made violent
+efforts to break his rope and fly at me.... I hope he is tied with a
+gordian knot if he wishes to see the setting sun!
+
+Finally a gardener enjoying a sinecure came to enliven this landscape
+without a garden; he strolled down the avenue with the nonchalance of a
+workman paid by the handsome Léon.
+
+I am able to distinguish among the gravest faces those that can relax
+into a smile at the sight of gold. The gardener passed before me, and
+after he had bestowed upon me the expected smile, I said to him:
+
+"Is this Mad. de Lorgeville's château?"
+
+He made an affirmative sign. Once more I bowed to the genius of the
+Jerusalem street goddess.
+
+I said to the gardener in a solemn tone: "Here is a letter of the
+greatest importance; you must hand it to Mlle. de Chateaudun when she is
+alone." I then showed him my purse and said: "After that, this money is
+yours."
+
+"The sweet young lady!" said the gardener, walking off towards the
+château with the gold in one hand, the letter in the other, and the
+purse in his eye--"The good young lady! it is a long time since she has
+received a love-letter."
+
+I said to myself, The handsome Léon does not indulge in
+letter-writing--he has a good reason for that.
+
+The following is the letter carried by the gardener to the château:--
+
+"Mademoiselle,--
+
+"Desperate situations justify desperate measures. I am willing to
+believe that I am still, by your desire, undergoing a terrible ordeal,
+but I judge myself sufficiently tried.
+
+"I am ready for everything except the misery of losing you. My last sane
+idea is uttered in this warning.
+
+"I must see you; I must speak to you.
+
+"Do not refuse me a few moments' conversation--Mademoiselle, in the name
+of Heaven save me! save yourself!
+
+"There is in the neighborhood of the château some farmhouse, or shady
+grove. Name any spot where I can meet you in an hour. I am awaiting your
+answer.... After an hour has passed I will wait for nothing more in this
+world."
+
+The gardener walked along with the nonchalance of the man of the
+Georgics, as if meditating upon the sum of happiness contained in a
+piece of gold. I looked after him with that resignation we feel as the
+end of a great trial approaches.
+
+He was soon lost to view, and in the distance I heard a door open and
+shut.
+
+In a few minutes Mlle. Chateaudun would be reading my letter. I read it
+over in my own mind, and rapidly conjectured the impression each word
+would make upon her heart.
+
+Through the thick foliage where I was concealed, I had a confused view
+of one wing of the château; the wall appeared to be covered with green
+tapestry torn in a thousand places. I could distinguish nothing clearly
+at a distance of twenty yards. Finally I saw approaching a graceful
+figure clad in white--and through the trees I caught sight of a blue
+scarf--a muslin dress and blue scarf--nothing more, and yet my heart
+stood still! My sensations at this moment are beyond analyzation. I felt
+an emotion that a man in love will comprehend at once.... A muslin dress
+fluttering under the trees where the fountains ripple and the birds
+sing! Is there a more thrilling sight?
+
+I stood with one foot forward on the gravel-path, and with folded arms
+and bowed head I waited. I saw the scarf fringe before seeing the face.
+I looked up, and there stood before me a lovely woman ... but it was not
+Irene!...
+
+It was Mad. de Lorgeville. She knew me and I recognised her, having
+known her before her marriage. She still possessed the beauty of her
+girlhood, and marriage had perfected her loveliness by adorning her with
+that fascinating grace that is wanting even in Raphael's madonnas.
+
+A peal of merry laughter rooted me to the spot and changed the current
+of my ideas. The lady was seized with such a fit of gayety that she
+could scarcely speak, but managed to gasp out my name and title in
+broken syllables. Like a great many men, I can stand much from women
+that I am not in love with.... I stood with arms crossed and hat off,
+waiting for an explanation of this foolish reception. After several
+attempts, Mad. de Lorgeville succeeded in making her little speech.
+After this storm of laughter there was still a ripple through which I
+could distinguish the following words, although I did not understand
+them:--
+
+"Excuse me, monsieur, ... but if you knew ... when you see ... but she
+must not see my foolish merriment, ... she cherishes the fancy that she
+is still young, ... like all women who are no longer so, ... give me
+your arm, ... we were at table ... we always keep a seat for a chance
+visitor ... One does not often meet with an adventure like this except
+in novels...."
+
+I made an effort to assume that calmness and boldness that saved my life
+the day I was made prisoner on the inhospitable coast of Borneo, and the
+old Arab king accused me of having attempted the traffic of gold dust--a
+capital crime--and said to the fair young châtelaine:
+
+"Madame, there is not much to amuse one in the country; gayety is a
+precious thing; it cannot be bought; happy is he who gives it. I
+congratulate myself upon being able to present it to you. Can you not
+give me back half of it, madame?"
+
+"Yes, monsieur, come and take it yourself," said Madame de Lorgeville;
+"but you must use it with discretion before witnesses."
+
+"I can assure you, madame, that I have not come to your château in
+search of gayety. Allow me to escort you to the door and then retire."
+
+"You are my prisoner, monsieur, and I shall not grant your request. The
+arrival of the Prince de Monbert is a piece of good fortune. My husband
+and I will not be ungrateful to the good genius that brought you here.
+We shall keep you."
+
+"One moment, madame," said I, stopping in front of the château; "I
+accept the happiness of being retained by you; but will you be good
+enough to name the persons I am to meet here?"
+
+"They are all friends of M. de Monbert."
+
+"Friends are the very people I dread, madame."
+
+"But they are all women."
+
+"Women I dread most of all."
+
+"Ah! monsieur, it is quite evident that you have been among savages for
+ten years."
+
+"Savages are the only beings I am not afraid of!"
+
+"Alas! monsieur, I have nothing in that line to offer you. This evening
+I can show you some neighbors who resemble the tribes of the Tortoise of
+the Great Serpent--these are the only natives I can dispose of. At
+present you will only see my husband, two ladies who are almost widows,
+and a young lady" ... here Mad. de Lorgeville was seized with a new fit
+of laughter ... finally she continued: "A young lady whose name you will
+know later."
+
+"I know it already, madame."
+
+"Perhaps you do ... to-morrow our company will be increased by two
+persons, my brother." ...
+
+"The handsome Léon!"
+
+"Ah you know him!... My brother Léon and his wife." ...
+
+I started so violently that I dropped Mad. de Lorgeville's arm--she
+looked frightened, and I said in a painfully constrained voice:
+
+"And his wife.... Mad. de Varèzes?... Ah! I did not know that M. de
+Varèzes was married."
+
+"My brother was married a month ago," said Mad. Lorgeville. "He married
+Mlle. de Bligny."
+
+"Are you certain of that, madame?"
+
+This question was asked in a voice and accompanied by an expression of
+countenance that would have made a painter or musician desperate, even
+were they Rossini or Delacroix.
+
+Mad. de Lorgeville, alarmed a second time by my excited manner, looked
+at me with commiseration, as if she thought me crazy! Certainly neither
+my face nor manner indicated sanity.
+
+"You ask if I am sure my brother is married!" said Mad. de Lorgeville
+with petrified astonishment. "You are surely jesting?"
+
+"Yes, madame, yes," said I, with an exuberance of gayety, "it is a
+joke.... I understand it all ... I comprehend everything ... that is to
+say--I understand nothing ... but your brother, the excellent Léon de
+Varèzes, is married--that is all I wanted to know.... What a very
+handsome young man he is!... I suppose, madame, that you opened my note
+without reading the address ... or did Mlle. de Chateaudun send you here
+to meet me?"
+
+"Mlle. de Chateaudun is not here ... excuse this silly laughter ... the
+gardener gave your note to one of my guests ... a young lady of
+sixty-five summers.... Who by the strangest coincidence is named Mlle.
+de Chantverdun.... Now you can account for my amusement ... Mlle. de
+Chantverdun is a canoness. She read your letter, and wished for once in
+her life to enjoy uttering a shriek of alarm and faint at the sight of a
+love letter; so come monsieur," said Mad. de Lorgeville, smilingly
+leading me towards the house, "come and make your excuses to Mlle. de
+Chantverdun, who has recovered her senses and sent me to her
+rendezvous."
+
+Involuntarily, my dear Edgar, I indulged in this short monologue after
+the manner of the old romancers: O tender love! passion full of
+intoxication and torment! love that kills and resuscitates! What a
+terrible vacuum thou must leave in life, when age exiles thee from our
+heart! Which means that I was resuscitated by Mad. de Lorgeville's last
+words!
+
+In a few minutes I was bowing with a moderate degree of respect before
+Mlle. de Chantverdun, and making her such adroit excuses that she was
+enchanted with me. Happiness had restored my presence of mind--my
+deferential manner and apologies delighted the poor old-young lady. I
+made her believe that this mistake was entirely owing to a similarity of
+names, and that the age of Mile. de Chantverdun was an additional point
+of resemblance.
+
+This distinction was difficult to manage in its exquisite delicacy; my
+skilfulness won the approbation of Mad. de Lorgeville.
+
+We passed a charming afternoon. I had recovered my gayety that trouble
+had almost destroyed, and enjoyed myself so much that sunset found me
+still at the château. Dear Edgar, this time I am not mistaken in my
+conjectures. Mile, de Chateaudun is imposing a trying ordeal upon me--I
+am more convinced of it than ever; it is the expiation before entering
+Paradise. Hasten your love affairs and prepare for marriage--we will
+have a double wedding, and we can introduce our wives on the same day.
+This would be the crowning of my dearest hopes--a fitting seal to our
+life-long friendship!
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 6th 18--.
+
+It is he! Valentine, it is he! I at once recognised him, and he
+recognised me! And our future lives were given to each other in one of
+those looks that decide a life. What a day! how agitated I still am! My
+hand trembles, my heart beats so violently that I can scarcely write....
+It is one o'clock; I did not close my eyes last night and I cannot sleep
+to-night. I am so excited, my mind so foolishly disturbed, that sleep is
+a state I no longer comprehend; I feel as if I could never sleep again.
+Many hours will have to pass before I can extinguish this fire that
+burns my eyes, stop this whirl of thoughts rushing through my brain; to
+sleep, I must forget, and never, never can I forget his name, his voice,
+his face! My dear Valentine, how I wished for you to-day! How proud I
+would have been to prove to you the realization of all my dreams and
+presentiments!
+
+Ah! I knew I was right; such implicit faith could not be an error; I was
+convinced that there existed on earth a being created for me, who would
+some day possess and govern my heart! A being who had always possessed
+my love, who sought me, and called upon me to respond to his love; and
+that we would end by meeting and loving in spite of all obstacles. Yes,
+often I felt myself called by some superior power. My soul would leave
+me and travel far away in response to some mysterious command. Where did
+it go? Then I was ignorant, now I know--it went to Italy, in answer to
+the gentle voice, to the behest of Raymond! I was laughed at for what
+was called my romantic idea, and I tried to ridicule it myself. I fought
+against this fantasy. Alas! I fought so valiantly against it that it was
+almost destroyed. Oh! I shudder when I think of it.... A few moments
+more ... and I would have been irrevocably engaged; I would no longer
+have been worthy of this love for which I had kept myself
+irreproachable, in spite of all the temptations of misery, all the
+dangers of isolation, and the long-hoped-for day of blissful meeting,
+would have been the day of eternal farewell! This averted misfortune
+frightened me as if it were still menacing. Poor Roger! I heartily
+pardon him now; more than that, I thank him for having so quickly
+disenchanted me.
+
+Edgar!... Edgar!... I hate him when I remember that I tried to love him;
+but no, no, there never was anything like love between us! Heavens! what
+a difference!... And yet the one of whom I speak with such enthusiasm
+... I saw yesterday for the first time ... I know him not ... I know him
+not ... and yet I love him!... Valentine, what will you think of me?
+
+This most important day of my life opened in the ordinary way; nothing
+foreshadowed the great event that was to decide my fate, that was to
+throw so much light upon the dark doubts of my poor heart. This
+brilliant sun suddenly burst upon me unheralded by any precursory ray.
+
+Some new guests were expected; a relative of Madame de Meilhan, and a
+friend of Edgar, whom they call Don Quixote. This struck me as being a
+peculiar nickname, but I did not ask its origin. Like all persons of
+imagination, I have no curiosity; I at once find a reason for
+everything; I prefer imagining to asking the wherefore of things; I
+prefer suppositions to information. Therefore I did not inquire why this
+friend was honored with the name of Don Quixote. I explained it to
+myself in this wise: A tall, thin young man, resembling the Chevalier de
+la Mancha, and who perhaps had dressed himself like Don Quixote at the
+carnival, and the name of his disguise had clung to him ever since; I
+fancied a silly, awkward youth, with an ugly yellow face, a sort of
+solemn jumping-jack, and I confess to no desire to make his
+acquaintance. He disturbed me in one respect, but I was quickly
+reassured. I am always afraid of being recognised by visitors at the
+château, and have to exercise a great deal of ingenuity to find out if
+we have ever met. Before appearing before them, I inquire if they are
+fashionable people, spent last winter in Paris, &c.? I am told Don
+Quixote is almost a savage; he travels all the time so as to sustain his
+character as knight-errant, and that he spent last winter in Rome....
+This quieted my fears ... I did not appear in society until last winter,
+so Don Quixote never saw me; knowing we could meet without the
+possibility of recognition, I dismissed him from my mind.
+
+Yesterday, at three o'clock, Madame de Meilhan and her son went to the
+depot to meet their guests. I was standing at the front door when they
+drove off, and Madame de Meilhan called out to me: "My dear Madame
+Guérin, I recommend my bouquets to you; pray spare me the eternal
+_soucis_ with which the cruel Etienne insists upon filling my rooms; now
+I rely upon you for relief."
+
+I smiled at this pun as if I had never heard it before, and promised to
+superintend the arrangement of the flowers. I went into the garden and
+found Etienne gathering _soucis_, more _soucis_, nothing but _soucis_. I
+glanced at his flower-beds, and at once understood the cause of his
+predilection for this dreadful flower; it was the only kind that deigned
+to bloom in his melancholy garden: This is the secret of many
+inexplicable preferences.
+
+I thought with horror that Madame de Meilhan would continue to be a prey
+to _soucis_ if I did not come to her rescue, so I said: "Etienne, what a
+pity to cull them all! they are so effective in a garden; let us go look
+for some other flowers--it is a shame to ruin your beautiful beds!" The
+flattered Stephen eagerly followed me to a corner of the garden where I
+had admired some superb catalpas. He gathered branches of them, with
+which I filled the Japanese vases on the mantel, and ornamented the
+corners of the parlor, thus converting it into a flowery grove. I also
+arranged some Bengal roses and dahlias that had escaped Etienne's
+culture, and with the addition of some asters and a very few _soucis_ I
+must confess, I was charmed with the result of my labors. But I wanted
+some delicate flowers for the pretty vase on the centre table, and
+remembering that an old florist, a friend of Madame Taverneau and one
+of my professed admirers, lived about a mile from the château, I
+determined to walk over and describe to him the dreadful condition of
+Madame de Meilhan, and appeal to him for assistance. Fortunately I found
+him in his green-house, and delighted him by repeating the pun about
+filling the house with _soucis_. Provincials have a singular taste for
+puns; I never make them, and only repeat them because I love to please.
+The old man was fascinated, and rewarded my flattery by making me up a
+magnificent bouquet of rare, unknown, nameless, exquisite flowers that
+could be found nowhere else; my bouquet was worth a fortune, and what
+fortune ever exhaled such perfume? I started off triumphant. I tell you
+all this to show how calm and little inclined I was to romance on that
+morning.
+
+I walked rapidly, for we can hardly help running when in an open field
+and pursued by the arrows of the sun; we run till we are breathless, to
+find shelter beneath some friendly tree.
+
+I had crossed a large field that separates the property of the florist
+from Madame de Meilhan's, and entered the park by a little gate; a few
+steps off a fountain rippled among the rocks--a basin surrounded by
+shells received its waters. This basin had originally been pretentiously
+ornamented, but time and vegetation had greatly improved these efforts
+of bad taste. The roots of a grand weeping willow had pitilessly
+unmasked the imposture of these artificial rocks, that is, they have
+destroyed their skilful masonry; these rocks, built at great expense on
+the shore, have gradually fallen into the very middle of the water,
+where they have become naturalized; some serve as vases to clusters of
+beautiful iris, others serve as resting-places for the tame deer that
+run about the park and drink at the stream; aquatic plants, reeds and
+entwined convolvulus have invaded the rest; all the pretentious work of
+the artist is now concealed; which proves the vanity of the proud
+efforts of man. God permits his creatures to cultivate ugliness in their
+cities only; in his own beautiful fields he quickly destroys their
+miserable attempts. Vainly, under pretext of a fountain, do they heap up
+in the woods and valleys masonry upon masonry, rocks upon rocks; vainly
+do they lavish money upon their gingerbread work about the limpid
+brooks; the water-nymph smilingly watches their labor, and then in her
+capricious play amuses herself by changing their hideous productions
+into charming structures; their den of a farmer-general into a poet's
+nest; and to effect this miracle only three things are necessary--three
+things that cost nothing, and which we daily trample under
+foot--flowers, grass and pebbles.... Valentine, I know I have been
+talking too long about this little lake, but I have an excuse: I love it
+much! You shall soon know why....
+
+I heard the purling of the water, and could not resist the seductive
+freshness of its voice; I leaned over the rocks of the fountain, took
+off my glove and caught in the hollow of my hand the sparkling water
+that fell from the cascade, and eagerly drank it. As I was intoxicating
+myself with this innocent beverage, I heard a footstep on the path; I
+continued to drink without disturbing myself, until the following words
+made me raise my head:
+
+"Excuse me, _mademoiselle_, but can you direct me where to find Mad. de
+Meilhan?"
+
+He called me _Mademoiselle_, so I must be recognised; the idea made me
+turn pale; I looked with alarm at the young man who uttered these words,
+I had never seen him before, but he might have seen me and would betray
+me. I was so disconcerted that I dropped half of my flowers in the
+water; the current was rapidly whirling them off among the crevices of
+the rocks, when he jumped lightly from stone to stone, and rescuing the
+fugitive flowers, laid them all carefully by the others on the side of
+the fountain, bowed respectfully and retraced his steps down the walk
+without renewing his unanswered question. I was, without knowing why,
+completely reassured; there was in his look such high-toned loyalty, in
+his manner such perfect distinction, and a sort of precaution so
+delicately mysterious, that I felt confidence in him. I thought, even if
+he does know my name it will make no difference--for he would never
+mention having met me--my secret is safe with a man of his character!
+You need not laugh at me for prematurely deciding upon his
+character,... for my surmises proved correct!
+
+The dinner hour was drawing near, and I hurried back to the château to
+dress. I was compelled, in spite of myself, to look attractive, on
+account of having to put on a lovely dress that the treacherous
+Blanchard had spread out on the bed with the determination that I should
+wear it; protesting that it was a blessed thing she had brought this
+one, as there was not another one fit for me to appear in before Mad. de
+Meilhan's guests. It was an India muslin trimmed with twelve little
+flounces edged with exquisite Valenciennes lace; the waist was made of
+alternate tucks and insertion, and trimmed with lace to match the skirt.
+This dress was unsuitable to the humble Madame Guérin--it would be
+imprudent to appear in it. How indignant and angry I was with poor
+Blanchard! I scolded her all the time she was assisting me to put it on!
+Oh! since then how sincerely have I forgiven her! She had brought me a
+fashionable sash to wear with the dress, but I resisted the temptation,
+and casting aside the elegant ribbon, I put on an old lilac belt and
+descended to the parlor where the company were assembled.
+
+The first person I saw, on entering the room, was the young man I had
+met by the fountain. His presence disconcerted me. Mad. de Meilhan
+relieved my embarrassment by saying: "Ah! here you are! we were just
+speaking of you. I wish to introduce to you my dear Don Quixote," I
+turned my head towards the other end of the room where Edgar was talking
+to several persons, thinking that Don Quixote was one of the number; but
+Mad. de Meilhan introduced the young man of the fountain, calling him M.
+de Villiers: he was Don Quixote.
+
+He addressed some polite speech to me, but this time he called me
+madame, and in uttering this word there was a tone of sadness that
+deeply touched me, and the earnest look with which he regarded me I can
+never forget--it seemed to say, I know your history, I know you are
+unhappy, I know this unhappiness is unjustly inflicted upon you, and you
+arouse my tenderest sympathy. I assure you, my dear Valentine, that his
+look expressed all this, and much more that I refrain from telling you,
+because I know you will laugh at me.
+
+Madame de Meilhan having joined us, he went over to Edgar.
+
+"What do you think of her?" asked Edgar, who did not know that I was
+listening.
+
+"Very beautiful."
+
+"She is a companion, engaged by my mother to stay here until I marry."
+
+The hidden meaning of this jesting speech seemed to disgust M. de
+Villiers; he cast upon his friend a severe and scornful look that
+clearly said: You conceited puppy! I think, but am not certain, this
+look also signified: Would-be Lovelace! Provincial Don Juan, &c.
+
+At dinner I was placed opposite him, and all during the meal I was
+wondering why this handsome, elegant, distinguished-looking young man
+should be nicknamed Don Quixote. Thoughtful observation solved the
+enigma. Don Quixote was ridiculed for two things: being very ugly and
+being too generous. And I confess I felt myself immediately fascinated
+by his captivating characteristics.
+
+After dinner we were on the terrace, when he approached me and said with
+a smile:
+
+"I am distressed, madame, to think that without knowing you, I must have
+made a disagreeable impression."
+
+"I confess that you startled me."
+
+"How pale you turned!... perhaps you were expecting some one!" ... He
+asked this question with a troubled look and such charming anxiety that
+I answered quickly--too quickly, perhaps:
+
+"No, monsieur, I did not expect any one."
+
+"You saw me coming up the walk?"
+
+"Yes, I saw you coming."
+
+"But was there any reason why I should have caused you this sudden
+fright!... some resemblance, perhaps?--no?--It is strange ... I am
+puzzled."
+
+"And I am also very much puzzled, monsieur."
+
+"About me!... What happiness!"
+
+"I wish to know why you are called Don Quixote?"
+
+"Ah! you embarrass me by asking for my great secret, Madame, but I will
+confide it to you, since you are kind enough to be interested in me. I
+am called Don Quixote because I am a kind of a fool, an original, an
+enthusiastic admirer of all noble and holy things, a dreamer of noble
+deeds, a defender of the oppressed, a slayer of egotists; because I
+believe in all religions, even the religion of love. I think that a man
+ought to respect himself out of respect to the woman who loves him; that
+he should constantly think of her with devotion, avoid doing anything
+that could displease her, and be always, even in her absence, courteous,
+pleasing, amiable, I would even say _loveable_, if the word were
+admissible; a man who is beloved is, according to my ridiculous ideas, a
+sort of dignitary; he should thenceforth behave as if he were an idol,
+and deify himself as much as possible. I also have my patriotic
+religion; I love my country like an old member of the National Guard....
+My friends say I am a real Vaudeville Frenchman. I reply that it is
+better to be a real Vaudeville Frenchman than an imitation of English
+jockeys, as they are; they call me knight-errant because I reprove them
+for speaking coarsely of women. I advise them to keep silent and conceal
+their misdeeds. I tell them that their boasted preferences only prove
+their blindness and bad taste; that I am more fortunate than they; all
+the women of my acquaintance are good and perfect, and my greatest
+desire in life is to be worthy of their friendship. I am called Don
+Quixote because I love glory and all those who have the ambition to seek
+it; because in my eyes there is nothing true but the hopeful future, as
+we are deceived at every step we take in the present. Because I
+understand inexplicable disinterestedness, generous folly; because I can
+understand how one can live for an idea and die for a word; I can
+sympathize with all who struggle and suffer for a cherished belief;
+because I have the courage to turn my back upon those whom I despise and
+am eccentric enough to always speak the truth; I assert that nobody is
+worth the hypocrisy of a falsehood; because I am an incorrigible,
+systematic, insatiable dupe; I prefer going astray, making a mistake by
+doing a good deed, rather than being always distrustful and suspicious;
+while I see evil I believe in good; doubtless the evil predominates and
+daily increases, but then it is cultivated, and if the same cultivation
+were bestowed upon the good perfection would be attained. Finally,
+madame, and this is my supreme folly, I believe in happiness and seek it
+with credulous hope; I believe that the purest joys are those which are
+most dearly bought; but I am ready for any sacrifice, and would
+willingly give my life for an hour of this sublime joy that I have so
+long dreamed of and still hope to possess.... Now you know why I am
+called Don Quixote. To be a knight-errant in the present day is rather
+difficult; a certain amount of courage is necessary to dare to say to
+unbelievers: I believe; to egotists, I love; to materialists, I dream;
+it requires more than courage, it requires audacity and insolence. Yes,
+one must commence by appearing aggressive in order to have the right to
+appear generous. If I were merely loyal and charitable, my opinions
+would not be supported; instead of being called _Don Quixote_, I would
+be called _Grandison_ ... and I would be a ruined man! Thus I hasten to
+polish my armor and attack the insolent with insolence, the scoffers
+with scoffing; I defend my enthusiasm with irony; like the eagle, I let
+my claws grow in order to defend my wings." ... Here he stopped....
+"Heavens!" he exclaimed, "how could I compare myself to an eagle; I beg
+your pardon, madame, for this presumptuous comparison.... You see to
+what flights your indulgence leads me" ... and he laughed at his own
+enthusiasm, ... but I did not laugh, my feelings were too deeply
+stirred.
+
+Valentine, what I repeat to you is very different from his way of saying
+it. What eloquence in his noble words, his tones of voice, his sparkling
+eyes! His generous sentiments, so long restrained, were poured forth
+with fire; he was happy at finding himself at last understood, at being
+able for once in his life to see appreciated the divine treasures of
+his heart, to be able to impart all his pet ideas without seeing them
+jeered at and their name insulted! Sympathy inspired him with confidence
+in me. With delight I recognised myself in his own description. I saw
+with pride, in his profound convictions, his strong and holy truths, the
+poetical beliefs of my youth, that have always been treated by every one
+else as fictions, and foolish illusions; he carried me back to the happy
+days of my early life, by repeating to me, like an echo of the past,
+those noble words that are no longer heard in the present--those noble
+precepts--those beautiful refrains of chivalry in which my infancy was
+cradled.... As I listened I said to myself: how my mother would have
+loved him! and this thought made my eyes fill with tears. Ah! never,
+never did such an idea cross my mind when I was with Edgar, or near
+Roger.... Now you must acknowledge, my dear Valentine, that I am right
+when I say that: It is he! It is he!
+
+We had been absorbed an hour in these confidential reveries, forgetting
+the persons around us, the place we were in, who we were ourselves, and
+the whole world!
+
+The universe had disappeared, leaving us only the delicate perfume of
+the orange blossoms around us, and the soft light of the stars peeping
+forth from the sky above us.
+
+We returned to the parlor and I was seated near the centre-table, when
+Edgar came up to me and said:
+
+"What is the matter with you this evening? You seem depressed; are you
+not well?"
+
+"I have a slight cold."
+
+"What a tiresome general--he continued--he monopolizes all my evening,
+... a tiresome hero is _so_ hard to entertain!"
+
+I forgot to tell you we had a general to dinner.
+
+"Raymond, come here ... it is your turn to keep the warrior awake." ...
+M. de Villiers approached the table and began to examine the bouquet I
+had brought. "Ah! I recognise these flowers!" he looked at me and I
+blushed. "I do too," said Edgar, without taking in the true sense of the
+words, and he pointed to the prettiest flowers in the bouquet, and
+said: "these are the flowers of the _pelargonium diadematum coccineum_."
+I exclaimed at the dreadful name. M. de Villiers repeated: "_Pelargonium
+diadematum coccineum_!" in an undertone, with a most fascinating smile,
+and said: "Oh! I did not mean that!" ... I could not help looking at him
+and smiling in complicity; now why should Edgar be so learned?
+
+I suppose you think it very childish to write you these particulars, but
+the most trifling details of this day are precious to me, and I must
+confide them to some one. Towards midnight we separated, and I rejoiced
+at being alone with my happiness. The emotion I felt was so lively that
+I hastened to carry it far away from everybody, even from him, its
+author. I wished for solitude that I might ask myself what had caused
+this agitation--nothing of importance had occurred this day, no word of
+engagement for the future had been made, and yet my whole life wore a
+different aspect ... my usually calm heart was throbbing violently--my
+mind always so uneasy was settled; who had thus changed my fate?... A
+stranger ... and what had he done to merit this sudden preference? He
+had picked up some flowers ... But this stranger wore on his brow the
+aureola of the dreamed-of ideal, his musical voice had the imperative
+accent of a master, and from the first moment he looked at me, there
+existed between us that mysterious affinity of fraternal instincts, that
+spontaneous alliance of two hearts suddenly mated, unfailing gratitude,
+irresistible sympathy, mutual echo, reciprocal exchange, quick
+appreciation, ardent and sublime harmony, that creates in one
+moment--the poets are right--that creates in one moment eternal love!
+
+To restore my tranquillity, I sat down to write to you, but had not the
+courage to put my thoughts on paper, and I remained there all night,
+trembling and meditative, oppressed by this powerful emotion; I did not
+think, I did not pray, I did not live; I loved, and absorbed in loving,
+taking no note of time, I sat there till daybreak; at five o'clock I
+heard a noise of rakes and scythes in the garden, and wishing to cool
+my hot eyes with a breath of fresh air, I descended to the terrace.
+
+Everybody was asleep in the château and all the blinds closed, but I
+opened the glass door leading into the garden, and after walking up and
+down the gravel-path, crossed the bridge over the brook, and went by way
+of the little thicket where I had rested yesterday; I was led by some
+magnetic attraction to the covered spring; I did not go up the
+poplar-walk, but took a little by-path seldom used by any one, and
+almost covered with grass; I reached the spring, and suddenly ... before
+me ... I saw him ... Valentine!... he was there alone, ... sitting on
+the bench by the fountain, with his beautiful eyes fastened on the spot
+where he had seen me the day before! And oh, the sad wistfulness of his
+look went straight to my heart! I stood still, happy, yet frightened; I
+wished to flee; I felt that my presence was a confession, a proof of his
+empire; I was right when I said he called me and I obeyed the call!...
+He looked up and saw me, ... and oh, how pale he turned,... he seemed
+more alarmed than I had been the day previous! His agitation restored my
+calmness; it convinced me that during these hours of separation our
+thoughts had been the same, and that our love was mutual. He arose and
+approached me, saying:--
+
+"This is your favorite place, madame, and I will not intrude any longer,
+but before I go you can reward this great sacrifice by a single word:
+confess frankly that you are not astonished at finding me here?" I was
+silent, but my blushes answered for me. As he stood there looking at me
+I heard a noise near us; it was only a deer coming to drink at the
+spring; but I trembled so violently that M. de Villiers saw by my alarm
+that it would distress me to be found alone with him; he was moving
+away, when I made a sign for him to remain, which meant: Stay, and
+continue to think of me.... I then quickly returned to the château. I
+have seen him since; we passed the day together, with Madame de Meilhan
+and her son, playing on the piano, or entertaining the country
+neighbors, but under it all enjoying the same fascinating
+preoccupation, an under-current of bliss, a secret intoxication. Edgar
+is uneasy and Madame de Meilhan is contented; the serious love of her
+son alarmed her; she sees with pleasure an increasing rivalry that may
+destroy it. I know not what is about to happen, but I dread anything
+unpleasant occurring to interrupt my sweet contentment; any
+explanations, humiliations, adieux, departures--a thousand
+annoyances,... but it matters not, I am happy, I am in love, and I know
+there is nothing so satisfying, so sweet as being in love!
+
+This time I say nothing of yourself, my dear Valentine, of yourself, nor
+of our old friendship, but is not each word of this letter a proof of
+tender devotion? I confide to you every thought and emotion of my
+heart--so foolish that one would dare not confess them to a mother. Is
+not this the same as saying to you: You are the beloved sister of my
+choice?
+
+Give my dear little goddaughter Irene a kiss for me. Oh, I am so glad
+she is growing prettier every day!
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+Richeport, Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+Paris, July 8th 18--.
+
+Dear Edgar,--Stupidity was invented by our sex. When a woman deceives or
+deserts us,--synonymous transgressions,--we are foolish enough to
+prolong to infinity our despair, instead of singing with Metastasio--
+
+  "Grazie all' inganni tuoi
+  Al fin respir' o Nice!"
+
+Alas! such is man! Women have more pride. If I had deserted Mlle. de
+Chateaudun she certainly would not have searched the highways and byways
+to discover me. I fear there is a great deal of vanity at the bottom of
+our manly passions. Vanity is the eldest son of love. I shall develop
+this theory upon some future occasion. One must be calm when one
+philosophizes. At present I am obliged to continue in my folly, begging
+reason to await my return.
+
+In the intense darkness of despair, one naturally rushes towards the
+horizon where shines some bright object, be it lighthouse, star,
+phosphorus or jack-o'-lantern. Will it prove a safe haven or a dangerous
+rock? Fate,--Chance,--to thee we trust!
+
+My faithful agents are ever watchful. I have just received their
+despatches, and they inspire me with the hope that at last the thick
+mist is about to be dispersed. I will spare you all the minute details
+written by faithful servants, who have more sagacity than epistolary
+style, and give you a synopsis:--Mlle. de Chateaudun left for Rouen a
+month ago. She engaged two seats in the car. She was seen at the
+depot--her maid was with her. There is no longer any doubt--Irene is at
+Rouen; I have proofs of it in my hand.
+
+An old family servant, devoted to me, is living at Rouen. I will make
+his house the centre of my observations, and will not compromise the
+result by any negligence or recklessness on part.
+
+The inexorable logic of victorious combinations will be revealed to me
+on the first night of my solitude. I am about to start; address me no
+longer at Paris. Railways were invented for the benefit of love affairs.
+A lover laid the first rail, and a speculator laid the last. Happily
+Rouen is a faubourg of Paris! This advantage of rapid locomotion will
+permit me to pass two hours at Richeport with you, and have the delight
+of pressing Raymond's hand. Two hours of my life gained by losing them
+with my oldest and best friend. I will be overjoyed to once more see the
+noble Raymond, the last of knight-errants, doubtless occupied in
+painting in stone-color some old manor where Queen Blanche has left
+traditions of the course of true love.
+
+How dreadful it is, dear Edgar, to endeavor to unravel a mystery when a
+woman is at the bottom of it! Yes, Irene is at Rouen, I am convinced of
+that fact. Rouen is a large city, full of large houses, small houses,
+hotels and churches; but love is a grand inquisitor, capable of
+searching the city in twenty-four hours, and making the receiver of
+stolen property surrender Mlle. de Chateaudun. Then what will happen?
+Have I the right to institute a scheme of this strange nature about a
+young woman? Is she alone at Rouen? And if misfortune does not mislead
+me by these certain traces, is there anything in reserve for me worse
+than losing her?
+
+Oh! if such be the case, then is the time to pray God for strength to
+repeat the other two verses of the poet:--
+
+  "Col mio rival istesso,
+  Posso di te parlar!"
+
+Farewell, for a short time, dear Edgar. I fly to fathom this mystery.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 6th, 18--.
+
+MADAME: Need I tell you that I left your house profoundly touched by
+your goodness, and bearing away in my heart one of the most precious
+memories that shall survive my youth? What can I tell you that you have
+not already learnt from my distress and emotion at the hour of parting?
+Tears came to my eyes as I pressed M. de Braimes's hand, that loyal hand
+which had so often pressed my father's, and when I turned back to get
+one last look at you, surrounded by your beautiful children, who waved
+me a final adieu, I felt as if I had left behind me the better part of
+myself; for a moment I reproached you for having cured me so quickly. My
+friends have nicknamed me Don Quixote, I do not exactly know why; but
+this I do know, that with the prospect of a reward like unto that which
+you have offered me, any one would accept the office of redresser of
+wrongs and slayer of giants, even at the risk of having to jump into the
+fire occasionally to save a Lady Penock.
+
+More generous than the angels, you have awarded me, on earth, the palm
+which is reserved for martyrs in heaven. You appeared before me like one
+of those benevolent fairies which exorcise evil genii. 'Tis true that
+you do not wear the magic ring, but your wit alleviates suffering and
+proclaims a truce to pain. Till now I have laughed at the stoics who
+declare that suffering is not an evil; seated at my pillow, one smile
+from you converted me to their belief. Hitherto I have believed that
+patience and resignation were virtues beyond my strength and courage;
+without an effort, you have taught me that patience is sweet and
+resignation easy to attain. I have been persuaded that health is the
+greatest boon given to man: you have proved its fallacy. And M. de
+Braimes has shown himself your faithful accomplice, not to speak of your
+dear little ones, who, for a month past, have converted my room into a
+flower-garden and a bird-cage, where they were the sweetest flowers and
+the gayest birds. Finally, as if my life, restored by your tender care,
+was not enough, you have added to it the priceless jewel of your
+friendship. A thousand thanks and blessings! With you happiness entered
+into my destiny. You were the dawn announcing a glorious sunrise, the
+prelude to the melodies which, since yesterday, swell in my bosom. If I
+take pleasure in recognising your gentle influence in the secret delight
+that pervades my being, do not deprive me of the illusion. I believe,
+with my mother, in mysterious influences. I believe that, as there are
+miserable beings who, unwittingly, drag misfortune after them and sow it
+over their pathway, there are others, on the other hand, who, marked by
+the finger of God, bear happiness to all whom they meet. Happy the
+wanderer who, like me, sees one of those privileged beings cross his
+path! Their presence, alone, brings down blessings from heaven and the
+earth blossoms under their footsteps.
+
+And really, madame, you do possess the faculty of dissipating fatal
+enchantments. Like the morning star, which disperses the mighty
+gatherings of goblins and gnomes, you have shone upon my horizon and
+Lady Penock has vanished like a shadow. Thanks to you, I crossed France
+with impunity from the borders of Isère to the borders of the Creuse,
+and then to the banks of the Seine, without encountering the implacable
+islander who pursued me from the fields of Latium to the foot of the
+Grande Chartreuse. I must not forget to state that at Voreppe, where I
+stopped to change horses, the keeper of the ruined inn, recognising my
+carriage, politely presented me with a bill for damages; so much for a
+broken glass, so much for a door beaten in, so much for a shattered
+ladder. I commend to M. de Braimes this brilliant stroke of one of his
+constituents; it is an incident forgotten by Cervantes in the history of
+his hero.
+
+In spite of my character of knight-errant, I reached my dear mountains
+without any other adventure. I had not visited them for three years, and
+the sight of their rugged tops rejoiced my heart. You would like the
+country; it is poor, but poetic. You would enjoy its green solitudes,
+its uncultivated fields, its silent valleys and little lakes enshrined
+like sheets of crystal in borders of sage and heather. Its chief charm
+to me is its obscurity; no curiosity-hunter or ordinary tourist has ever
+frightened away the dryads from its chestnut groves or the naiads from
+its fresh streams. Even a flitting poet has scarcely ever betrayed its
+rural mysteries. My château has none of the grandeur that you have,
+perhaps, ascribed to it. Picture to yourself a pretty country-house,
+lightly set on a hill-top, and pensively overlooking the Creuse flowing
+at its feet under an arbor of alder-bushes and flowering ash. Such as it
+is, imbedded in woods which shelter it from the northern blasts and
+protect it from the heats of the summer solstice; there--if the hope
+that inspires me is not an illusion of my bewildered brain; if the light
+that dazzles me is not a chance spark from chimerical fires, there,
+among the scenes where I first saw the light, I would hide my happiness.
+You see, madame, that my hand trembles as I write. One evening you and I
+were walking together, under the trees in your garden; your children
+played about us like young kids upon the green sward. As we walked we
+talked, and insensibly began to speak of that vague need of loving which
+torments our youth. You said that love was a grave undertaking, and that
+often our whole life depended upon our first choice. I spoke of my
+aspirations towards those unknown delights, which haunted me with their
+seductive visions as Columbus was haunted by visions of a new world.
+Gravely and pensively you listened to me, and when I began to trace the
+image of the oft-dreamed-of woman, so vainly sought for in the
+ungrateful domain of reality, I remember that you smiled as you said:
+"Do not despair, she exists; you will meet her some day." Were you
+speaking earnestly then? Is it she? Keep still, do not even breathe, she
+might fly away.
+
+After a few days spent in revisiting the scenes of my childhood, and
+breathing afresh the sweet perfumes still hovering around infancy's
+cradle, I left for Paris, where I scarcely rested The manner in which I
+employed the few hours passed in that hot city would doubtless surprise
+you, madame. My carriage rolled rapidly through the wealthy portion of
+the city, and following my directions was soon lost in the gloomy
+solitude of the Marais.
+
+I alighted in the wilderness of a deserted street before a melancholy
+and dejected-looking house, and as I raised the heavy latch of the
+massive door, my heart beat as if I were about to meet, after a long
+absence, an aged mother who wept for my return, or a much-loved sister.
+I took a key from its nail in the porter's lodge and began to climb the
+stair, which, viewed from below, looked more picturesque than inviting,
+particularly when one proposed to ascend to the very top. Fortunately, I
+am a mountaineer; I bounded up that wide ladder with as light a step as
+if it had been a marble stairway, with richly wrought balustrade. At the
+end of the ascent I hurriedly opened a door, and, perfectly at home,
+entered a small room. I paused motionless upon the threshold, and
+glanced feelingly around. The room contained nothing but a table covered
+with books and dust, a stiff oak arm-chair, a hard and
+uninviting-looking lounge, and on the mantel-piece, in two earthen
+vases, designed by Ziegler, the only ornaments of this poor retreat, a
+few dry, withered asters. No one expected me, I expected no one. There I
+remained until evening, waiting for nightfall, thinking the sun would
+never set and the day never end. Finally, as the night deepened, I
+leaned on the sill of the only window, and with an emotion I cannot
+describe, watched the stars peep forth one by one. I would have given
+them all for a sight of the one star which will never shine again. Shall
+I tell you about it, madame, and would you comprehend me? You know
+nothing of my life; you do not know that, during two years, I lived in
+that garret, poor, unknown, with no other friend than labor, no other
+companion than the little light which appeared and disappeared regularly
+every evening through the branches of a Canada pine. I did not know
+then, neither do I know now, who watched by that pale gleam, but I felt
+for it a nameless affection, a mysterious tenderness. On leaving my
+retreat, I sent it, through the trees, a long farewell, and the not
+seeing it on my return distressed me as the loss of a brother. What has
+become of you, little shining beacon, who illumined the gloom of my
+studious nights? Did a storm extinguish you? or has God, whom I invoked
+for you, granted my prayer, and do you shine with a less troubled ray in
+happier climes? It is a long story; and I know a fresher and a more
+charming one, which I will speedily tell you.
+
+I took the train the next day (that was yesterday) for Richeport, where
+M. de Meilhan had invited me to meet him. You know M. de Meilhan without
+ever having seen him. You are familiar with his verses and you like
+them. I profess to love the man as much as his talents. Our friendship
+is of long standing; I assisted at the first lispings of his muse; I saw
+his young glory grow and expand; I predicted from the first the place
+that he now holds in the poetic pleiad, the honor of a great nation. To
+hear him you would say that he was a pitiless scoffer; to study him you
+would soon find, under this surface of rancorless irony, more candor and
+simplicity than he is himself aware of, and which few people possess who
+boast of their faith and belief. He has the mind of a sceptic and the
+believing soul of a neophyte.
+
+In less than three hours I reached Pont de l'Arche. Railroads have been
+much abused; it is charitable to presume that those honest people who do
+so have no relatives, friends nor sweethearts away from them. M. de
+Meilhan and his mother were waiting for me at the depot; the first
+delights of meeting over--for you must remember that I have not seen my
+poet for three years--I leave you to imagine the peals of laughter that
+greeted the mention of Lady Penock's formidable name. Edgar, who knew of
+my adventure and was excited by the joy of seeing me again, amused
+himself by startling the echoes with loud and repeated "Shockings!" We
+drove along in an open carriage, laughing, talking, pressing each
+other's hands, asking question upon question, while Madame de Meilhan,
+after having shared our gayety, seemed to watch with interest the
+exhibition of our mutual delight. This scene had the most beautiful
+surroundings in the world; an exquisite country, which in order to be
+fully appreciated, visited, described, sung of in prose and verse,
+should be fifteen hundred miles from France.
+
+My mind is naturally gay, my heart sad. When I laugh, something within
+me suffers and repines; it is by no means rare for me to pass suddenly
+and without transition from the wildest gayety to the profoundest
+sadness and melancholy. On our arrival at Richeport we found several
+visitors at the châteaux, among the number a general, solemnly resigned
+to the pleasures of a day in the country. To escape this illustrious
+warrior, who was engaged upon the battle of Friedland, Edgar made off
+between two cavalry charges and carried me into the park, where we were
+soon joined by Madame de Meilhan and her guest, the terrible general at
+the head.
+
+Interrupted for a moment by the skilful retreat of the young poet, the
+battle of Friedland began again with redoubled fury. The paths of the
+park are narrow; the warrior marched in front with Edgar, who wiped the
+drops from his brow and exhausted himself in vain efforts to release his
+arm from an iron grasp; Madame de Meilhan and those who accompanied her
+represented the corps d'armeé; I formed the rear guard; balls whistled
+by, battalions struggled, we heard the cries of the wounded and were
+stifled by the smell of powder; wishing to avoid the harrowing sight of
+such dreadful carnage, I slackened my pace and was agreeably surprised
+to find, at a turn in the path, that I had deserted my colors; I
+listened and heard only the song of the bulfinch; I took a long breath
+and breathed only the odor of the woods; I looked above the birches and
+aspens for a cloud of smoke which would put me upon the track of the
+combatants; I saw only the blue sky smiling through the trees; I was
+alone; by one of those reactions of which I spoke, I sank insensibly
+into a deep revery.
+
+It was intensely hot; I threw myself upon the grass, under the shadow of
+a thick hedge, and there lay listening to nature's faint whispers, and
+the beating of my own heart. The joy that I had just felt in meeting
+Edgar again, made the void in my heart, which friendship can never fill,
+all the more painful; my senses, subdued by the heat, chanted in endless
+elegies the serious and soothing conversation that we had had one
+evening under your lindens. Whether I had a presentiment of some
+approaching change in my destiny, or whether I was simply overcome by
+the heat, I know not, but I was restless; my restlessness seemed to
+anticipate some indefinite happiness, and from afar the wind bore to me
+in warm puffs the cheering refrain: "She exists, she exists, you will
+find her!"
+
+I at last remembered that I had only been Madame de Meilhan's guest a
+few hours, and that my abrupt disappearance must appear, to say the
+least, strange to her. On the other hand, Edgar, whom I had
+treacherously abandoned in the greatest danger, would have serious
+grounds of complaint against me. I arose, and driving away the winged
+dreams that hovered around me, like a swarm of bees round a hive,
+prepared to join my corps, with the cowardly hope that when I arrived,
+the engagement might be over and the victory won. Unfortunately, or
+rather fortunately, I was unacquainted with the windings of the park,
+and wandered at random through its verdant labyrinths, the sun pouring
+down upon my devoted head until I heard the silvery murmur of a
+neighboring stream, babbling over its pebbly bed. Attracted by the
+freshness of the spot, I approached and in the midst of a confusion of
+iris, mint and bindweed, I saw a blonde head quenching its thirst at the
+stream. I could only see a mass of yellow hair wound in heavy golden
+coils around this head, and a little hand catching the water like an
+opal cup, which it afterwards raised to two lips as fresh as the crystal
+stream which they quaffed. Her face and figure being entirely concealed
+by the aquatic plants which grew around the spring, I took her for a
+child, a girl of twelve or more, the daughter perhaps of one of the
+persons whom I had left upon the battle-field of Friedland. I advanced a
+few steps nearer, and in my softest voice, for I was afraid of
+frightening her, said: "Mademoiselle, can you tell me if Madame de
+Meilhan is near here?" At these words I saw a young and beautiful
+creature, tall, slender, erect, lift herself like a lily from among the
+reeds, and trembling and pale, examine me with the air of a startled
+gazelle. I stood mute and motionless, gazing at her. Surely she
+possessed the royal beauty of the lily. An imagination enamored of the
+melodies of the antique muse would have immediately taken her for the
+nymph of that brook. Like two blue-bells in a field of ripe grain, her
+large blue eyes were as limpid as the stream which reflected the azure
+of the sky. On her brow sat the pride of the huntress Diana. Her
+attitude and the expression of her face betrayed a royalty which desired
+to conceal its greatness, a strange mixture of timorous boldness and
+superb timidity--and over it all, the brilliancy of youth--a nameless
+charm of innocence and childishness tempered in a charming manner the
+dignity of her noble presence.
+
+I turned away, charmed and agitated, not having spoken a word. After
+wandering about sometime longer I finally discovered the little army
+corps, marching towards the château, the general always ahead. As I had
+anticipated, the battle was about over, a few shots fired at the
+fugitives were alone heard. Edgar saw me in the distance, and looked
+furious. "Ah traitor!" said he, "you have lagged behind! I am riddled
+with balls; I have six bullets in my breast," "Monsieur," cried the
+general, "at what juncture did you leave the combat?" "You see," said
+Edgar to me, "that the torture is about to commence again." "General,"
+observed Madame de Meilhan, "I think that the munitions are exhausted
+and dinner is ready." "Very well," gravely replied the hero, "we will
+take Lubeck at dessert." "Alas! we are taken;" said Edgar, heaving a
+sigh that would have lifted off a piece of the Cordilleras.
+
+M. de Meilhan left the group of promenaders and joined me; we walked
+side by side. You can imagine, madame, how anxious I was to question
+Edgar; you can also comprehend the feeling of delicacy which restrained
+me. My poet worships beauty; but it is a pagan worship of color and
+form. The result is, a certain boldness of detail not always excusable
+by grace of expression, in his description of a beautiful woman; too
+lively an enthusiasm for the flesh; too great a satisfaction in drawing
+lines and contours not to shock the refined. A woman poses before him
+like a statue or rather like a Georgian in a slave-market, and from the
+manner in which he analyzes and dissects her, you would say that he
+wanted either to sell or buy her. I allude now to his speech only, which
+is lively, animated but rather French its picturesque crudity. As a poet
+he sculptures like Phidias, and his verse has all the dazzling purity of
+marble.
+
+I preferred to apply to Madame de Meilhan. On our return to the château
+I questioned her, and learned that my beautiful unknown was named Madame
+Louise Guérin. At that word "Madame" my heart contracted. Wherefore? I
+could not tell. Afterwards I learned that she was a widow and poor, that
+she lived by the labor of those pretty fingers which I had seen dabbling
+in the water. Further than that, Madame de Meilhan knew nothing, her
+remarks were confined to indulgent suppositions and benevolent comments.
+A woman so young, so beautiful, so poor, working for her livelihood,
+must be a noble and pure creature. I felt for her a respectful pity,
+which her appearance in the drawing-room in all the magnificence of her
+beauty, grace and youth, changed into extravagant admiration. Our eyes
+met as if we had a secret between us; she appeared, and I yielded to the
+charm of her presence. Edgar observed that she was his mother's
+companion, who would remain with her until he married. The wretch! if he
+had not written such fine verses, I would have strangled him on the
+spot. I sat opposite her at dinner, and could observe her at my ease.
+She appeared like a young queen at the board of one of her great
+vassals. Grave and smiling, she spoke little, but so to the point, and
+in so sweet a voice, that I cherished in my heart every word that fell
+from her lips, like pearls from a casket. I also was silent and was
+astonished, that when she did not speak, any one should dare to open his
+lips before her. Edgar's witty sallies seemed to be in the worst
+possible taste, and twenty times I was on the point of saying to him:
+"Edgar, do you not see that the queen is listening to you?"
+
+At dessert, as the general was preparing to manoeuvre the artillery of
+the siege, every one rose precipitately, to escape the capture and
+pillage of Lubeck. Edgar rushed into the park, the guests dispersed; and
+while Madame de Meilhan, bearing with heroic resignation the
+inconveniences attached to her dignity as mistress of the house, fought
+by the general's side like Clorinde by the side of Argant, I found
+myself alone, with the young widow, upon the terrace of the château. We
+talked, and a powerful enchantment compelled me to surrender my soul
+into her keeping. I amazed myself by confiding to her what I had never
+told myself.
+
+My most cherished and hidden feelings were drawn irresistibly forth from
+the inmost recesses of my bosom. When I spoke, I seemed to translate her
+thoughts; when she in turn replied, she paraphrased mine. In less than
+an hour I learned to know her. She possessed, at the same time, an
+experimental mind, which could descend to the root of things, and a
+tender and inexperienced heart which life had never troubled.
+Theoretically she was governed by a lofty and precocious reason ripened
+by misfortune; practically, she was swayed by the dictates of an
+innocent and untried soul. Until now, she has lived only in the activity
+of her thoughts; the rest of her being sleeps, seeks or awaits. Who is
+she? She is not a widow. Albert Guérin is not her name; she has never
+been married. Where Madame de Meilhan hesitates, I doubt, I decide. How
+does it happen that the mystery with which she is surrounded has to me
+all the prestige and lustre of a glowing virtue? How is it that my heart
+rejoices at it when my prudence should take alarm? Another mystery,
+which I do not undertake to explain. All that I know is, that she is
+poor, and that if I had a crown I should wish to ennoble it by placing
+it upon that lovely brow.
+
+Do not tell me that this is madness; that love is not born of a look or
+a word, that it must germinate in the heart for a season before it can
+bear fruit. Enthusiasts live fast. They reach the same end as reason,
+and by like paths; only reason drags its weary length along, while
+enthusiasm flies on eagle's wing. Besides, this love has long since
+budded; it only sought a heart to twine itself around. Is it love? I
+deceive myself perhaps. Whence this feeling that agitates me? this
+intoxication that has taken possession of me? this radiance that dazzles
+me? I saw her again, and the charm increased. How you would love her!
+how my mother would have loved her!
+
+In the midst of these preoccupations I have not forgotten, madame, the
+instructions that you gave me. That you are interested in Mademoiselle
+de Chateaudun's destiny suffices to interest me likewise. The Prince de
+Monbert is expected here; I can therefore send you, in a few days, the
+information you desire taken on the spot. It has been ten years since I
+have seen the Prince; he has a brilliant mind and a loyal heart, and he
+has, in his life, seen more tigers and postilions than any other man in
+France. I will scrupulously note any change that ten years' travel may
+have brought about in his manner of thinking and seeing; but I believe
+that I can safely declare beforehand, that nothing can be found in his
+frank nature to justify the flight of the strange and beautiful heiress.
+
+Accept, madame, my respectful homage.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ M. LE COMTE DE VILLIERS,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+Rouen, July 10th 18--.
+
+Very rarely in life do we receive letters that we expect; we always
+receive those that we don't expect. The expected ones inform us of what
+we already know; the unexpected ones tell us of things entirely new. A
+philosopher prefers the latter--of which I now send you one.
+
+I passed some hours at Richeport with you and Edgar, and there I made a
+discovery that you must have made before me, and a reflection that you
+will make after me. I am sixty years old in my feelings--travel ages one
+more than anything else--you are twenty-five, according to your
+baptismal register. How fortunate you are to have some one able to give
+you advice! How unfortunate I am that my experience has been sad enough
+to enable me to be that one to give it! But I have a vague presentiment
+that my advice will bring you happiness, if followed. We should never
+neglect a presentiment. Every man carries in him a spark of Heaven's
+intelligence--it is often the torch that illumines the darkness of our
+future. This is called presentiment.
+
+Read attentively, and do not disturb yourself about the end. I must
+first explain by what means of observation I made my discovery. Then the
+dénoûement will appear in its proper place, which is not at the
+beginning.
+
+The following is what I saw at the Château de Richeport. You did not see
+it, because you were an actor. I was merely a spectator, and had that
+advantage over you.
+
+You, Edgar, and myself were in the parlor at noon. It is the hour in the
+country when one takes shelter behind closed blinds to enjoy a friendly
+chat. One is always sad, dreamy, meditative at this hour of a lovely
+summer-day, and can speak carelessly of indifferent things, and at the
+same time have every thought concentrated upon one beloved object.
+These are the mysteries of the _Démon de Midi_, so much dreaded by the
+poet-king.
+
+There was in one corner of the room a little rosewood-table, so frail
+that it could be crushed by the weight of a man's hand. On this table
+was a piece of embroidery and a crystal vase filled with flowers.
+Suspended over this table was a copy of Camille Roqueplan's picture:
+"_The Lion in Love_." In the recess near the window was a piano open,
+and evidently just abandoned by a woman; the little stool was
+half-overturned by catching in the dress of some one suddenly rising,
+and the music open was a soprano air from _Puritani_:--
+
+  "Vien diletto, in ciel e luna,
+  Tutto tace intorno...."
+
+You will see how by inductions I reached the truth. I don't know the
+woman of this piano; I nevertheless will swear she exists. Moreover, I
+know she is young, pretty, has a good figure, is graceful and easy in
+her manner, and is adored by some one in the château. If any ordinary
+woman had left her embroidery on the table, if she had upset the stool
+in leaving the piano, two idle nervous young men like yourselves would
+from curiosity and ennui have examined the embroidery, disarranged the
+vase of flowers, picked up the stool, and closed the piano. But no hand
+dared to meddle with this holy disorder under pretext of arranging it.
+These evidences, still fresh and undisturbed, attest a respect that
+belongs only to love.
+
+This woman, to me unknown, is then young and pretty, since she is so
+ardently loved, and by more than one person, as I shall proceed to
+prove. She has a commanding figure, because her embroidery is fine. I
+know not if she be maid or wife, but this I do know, if she is not
+married, the vestiges that she left in the parlor indicate a great
+independence of position and character. If she is married, she is not
+governed by her husband, or indeed she may be a widow.
+
+Allow me to recall your conversation with Edgar at dinner. Hitherto I
+have remarked that in all discussions of painting, music, literature
+and love, your opinions always coincided with Edgar's; to hear you speak
+was to hear Edgar, and _vice versa_. In opinions and sentiments you were
+twin-brothers. Now listen how you both expressed yourselves before me on
+that day.
+
+"I believe," said Edgar, "that love is a modern invention, and woman was
+invented by André Chénier, and perfected by Victor Hugo, Dumas and
+Balzac. We owe this precious conquest to the revolution of '89. Before
+that, love did not exist; Cupid with his bow and quiver reigned as a
+sovereign. There were no women, there were only _beauties_.
+
+  "O, miracle des belles,
+  Je vous enseignerais un nid de tourterelles."
+
+"These two lines have undergone a thousand variations under the pens of
+a thousand poets. Women were only commended for their eyes--very
+beautiful things when they _are_ beautiful, but they should not be made
+the object of exclusive admiration. A beauty possessing no attraction
+but beautiful eyes would soon lose her sway over the hearts of men.
+Racine has used the words _eye_ and _eyes_ one hundred and sixty-five
+times in _Andromache_. Woman has been deprived of her divine crown of
+golden or chestnut hair; she has been dethroned by having it covered
+with white powder. We have avenged woman for her long neglect; we have
+preserved the _eyes_ and added all the other charms. Thus women love us
+poets; and in our days Orpheus would not be torn to pieces by snowy
+hands on the shores of the Strymon."
+
+"Ah! that is just like you, Edgar," you said, with a sad laugh and a
+would-be calm voice. "At dessert you always give us a dish of paradoxes.
+I myself greatly prefer Montmorency cherries."
+
+Some minutes after Edgar said:
+
+"The other day I paid a visit to Delacroix. He has commenced a picture
+that promises to be superb; my dear traveller, Roger, it will possess
+the sky you love--pure indigo, the celestial carpet of the blue god."
+
+"I abhor blue," you said; "I dread ophthalmia. Surfeit of blue compels
+the use of green spectacles. I adore the skies of Hobbema and
+Backhuysen; one can look at them with the naked eye for twenty years,
+and yet never need an oculist in old age."
+
+After some rambling conversation you uttered an eulogy on a sacred air
+of Palestrina that you heard sung at the Conservatory concert. When you
+had finished, Edgar rested his elbows on the table, his chin on his
+hand, and let fall from his lips the following words, warmed by the
+spiritual fire of his eyes.
+
+"I have always abhorred church-music," said he. "Sacred music is
+proscribed in my house as opium is in China. I like none but sentimental
+music. All that does not resemble in some way the _Amor possente nome_
+of Rossini must remained buried in the catacombs of the piano. Music was
+only created for women and love. Doubtless simplicity is beautiful, but
+it so often only belongs to simple people.
+
+"Art is the only passion of a true artist. The music of Palestrina
+resembles the music of Rossini about as much as the twitter of the
+swallow resembles the song of the nightingale."
+
+It was evident to me, my young friend, that neither of you expressed
+your genuine convictions and true opinions. You were sitting opposite,
+and yet neither looked at the other while speaking. You both were
+handsome and charming, but handsome and charming like two English cocks
+before a fight. What particularly struck me was that neither of you ever
+said: "What is the matter with you to-day, my friend? you seem to
+delight in contradicting me." Edgar did not ask you this question, nor
+did you ask it of him. You thought it useless to inquire into the cause
+of these half-angry contradictions; you both knew what you were about.
+You and Edgar both love the same woman. It is the woman who suddenly
+retreated from the piano. Perhaps she left the house after some
+disagreeable scene between you two in her presence.
+
+I watched all your movements when we three were together in the parlor.
+The tone of your voices, naturally sonorous, sounded harsh and
+discordant; you held in your hand a branch of _hibiscus_ that you idly
+pulled to pieces. Edgar opened a magazine and read it upside downwards;
+it was quite evident that you were a restraint upon each other, and
+that I was a restraint upon you both.
+
+At intervals Edgar would cast a furtive glance at the open piano, at the
+embroidery, and the vase of flowers; you unconsciously did the same; but
+your two glances never met at the same point; when Edgar looked at the
+flowers, you looked at the piano; if either of you had been alone, you
+would have never taken your eyes off these trifles that bore the
+perfumed impression of a beloved woman's hand, and which seemed to
+retain some of her personality and to console you in her absence.
+
+You were the last comer in the house adorned by the presence of this
+woman; you are also the most reasonable, therefore your own sense and
+what is due to friendship must have already dictated your line of
+conduct--let me add my advice in case your conscience is not quite
+awake--fly! fly! before it is too late--linger, and your self-love, your
+interested vanity, will no longer permit you to give place to a friend
+who will have become a rival. Passion has not yet taken deep root in
+your heart; at present it is nothing more than a fancy, a transitory
+preference, a pleasant employment of your idle moments.
+
+In the country, every young woman is more or less disposed to break the
+hearts of young men, like you, who gravitate like satellites. Women
+delight in this play--but like many other tragic plays, it commences
+with smiles but terminates in tears and blood! Moreover, my young
+friend, in withdrawing seasonably, you are not only wise, you are
+generous!
+
+I know that Edgar has been for a long time deeply in love with this
+woman; you are merely indulging in a rural flirtation, a momentary
+caprice. In a little while, vain rivalry will make you blind, embitter
+your disposition, and deceive you as to the nature of your
+sentiments--believing yourself seriously in love you will be unable to
+withdraw. To-day your pride is not interested; wait not until to-morrow.
+Edgar is your friend, you must respect his prerogatives. A woman gave
+you a wise example to follow--she suddenly withdrew from the presence of
+you both when she saw a threatening danger.
+
+A pretty woman is always dangerous when she comes to inaugurate the
+divinity of her charms in a lonely château, in the presence of two
+inflammable young men. I detect the cunning of the fair unknown: she
+lavishes innocent smiles upon both of you--she equally divides her
+coquetries between you; she approaches you to dazzle--she leaves you to
+make herself regretted; she entangles you in the illusion of her
+brilliant fascination; she moves to seduce your senses; she speaks to
+charm your soul; she sings to destroy your reason.
+
+Forget yourself for one instant, my young friend, on this flowery slope,
+and woe betide you when you reach the bottom! Be intoxicated by this
+feast of sweet words, soft perfumes and radiant smiles, then send me a
+report of your soul's condition when you recover your senses! At
+present, in spite of your skirmishes of wit, you are still the friend of
+Edgar ... hostility will certainly come. Friendship is too feeble a
+sentiment to struggle against love. This passion is more violent than
+tropical storms--I have felt it--I am one of its victims now! There
+lives another woman--half siren, half Circe--who has crossed my path in
+life, as you well know. If I had collected in my house as many friends
+as Socrates desired to see in his, and all these friends were to become
+my rivals, I feel that my jealousy would fire the house, and I would
+gladly perish in the flames after seeing them all dead before my eyes.
+
+Oh, fatal preoccupation! I only wished to speak of your affairs, and
+here I am talking of my own. The clouds that I heap upon your horizon
+roll back towards mine.
+
+In exchange for my advice, render me a service. You know Madame de
+Braimes, the friend of Mlle. de Chateaudun. Madame de Braimes is
+acquainted with everything that I am ignorant of, and that my happiness
+in life depends upon discovering. It is time for the inexplicable to be
+explained. A human enigma cannot for ever conceal its answer. Every
+trial must end before the despair of him who is tried. Madame de Braimes
+is an accomplice in this enigma; her secret now is a burden on her
+lips, she must let it fall into your ear, and I will cherish a life-long
+gratitude to you both.
+
+Any friend but you would smile at this apparently strange language--I
+write you a long chapter of psychological and moral inductions to show
+my knowledge about the management of love affairs and affairs
+otherwise--I divine all your enigmas; I illuminate the darkness of all
+your mysteries, and when it comes to working on my own account, to be
+perspicacious for my own benefit, to make discoveries about my own love
+affair, I suddenly abdicate, I lose my luminous faculties, I put a band
+over my eyes, and humbly beg a friend to lend me the thread of the
+labyrinth and guide my steps in the bewildering darkness. All this must
+appear singular to you, to me it is quite natural. Through the thousand
+dark accidents that love scatters in the path of life, light can only
+reach us by means of a friend. We ourselves are helpless; looking at
+others we are lynx-eyed, looking at ourselves we are almost blind. It is
+the optical nerve of the passions. It is mortifying to thus sacrifice
+the highest prerogatives of man at the feet of a woman, to feel
+compelled to yield to her caprices and submit to the inexorable
+exigencies of love. The artificial life I am leading is odious to me.
+Patience is a virtue that died with Job, and I cannot perform the
+miracle of resuscitating it.
+
+Take my advice--be prudent--be wise--be generous--leave Richeport and
+come to me; we can assist and console each other; you can render me a
+great service, I will explain how when we meet--I will remain here for a
+few days; do not hesitate to come at once--Between a friend who fears
+you and a friend who loves you and claims you--can you hesitate?
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN to Mme. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Grenoble (Isère).
+
+Pont de L'Arche, July 15th 18--.
+
+Come to my help, my dear Valentine--I am miserable. Each joyless morning
+finds me more wretched than I was the previous night. Oh! what a burden
+is life to those who are fated to live only for life itself! No sunshine
+gilds my horizon with the promises of hope--I expect nothing but sorrow.
+Who can I trust now that my own heart has misled me? When error arose
+from the duplicity of others I could support the disenchantment--the
+deceptive love of Roger was not a bitter surprise, my instinct had
+already divined it; I comprehended a want of congeniality between us,
+and felt that a rapture would anticipate an alliance: and while thinking
+I loved him, I yet said to myself: This is not love.
+
+But now I am my own deceiver--and I awaken to lament the self-confidence
+and assurance that were the source of my strength and courage. With
+flattering ecstasy I cried: It is he!... Alas! he replied not: It is
+she! And now he is gone--he has left me! Dreadful awakening from so
+beautiful a dream!
+
+Valentine, burn quickly the letter telling you of my ingenuous hopes, my
+confident happiness--yes, burn the foolish letter, so there will remain
+no witness of my unrequited love! What! that deep emotion agitating my
+whole being, whose language was the tears of joy that dimmed my eyes,
+and the counted beatings of my throbbing heart--that master-passion, at
+whose behest I trembled while blushes mantled and fled from my cheek,
+betraying me to him and him to me; the love whose fire I could not
+hide--the beautiful future I foresaw--that world of bliss in which I
+began to live--this pure love that gave an impetus to life--this
+devotion that I felt was reciprocated.... All, all was but a creation of
+my fancy.... and all has vanished ... here I am alone with nothing to
+strengthen me but a memory ... the memory of a lost illusion.... Have I
+a right to complain? It is the irrevocable law--after fiction,
+reality--after a meteor, darkness--after the mirage, a desert!
+
+I loved as a young heart full of faith and tenderness never loved
+before--and this love was a mistake; he was a stranger to me--he did not
+love me, and I had no excuse for loving him; he is gone, he had a right
+to go, and I had no right to detain him--I have not even the right to
+mourn his absence. Who is he? A friend of Madame de Meilhan, and a
+stranger to me!... He a stranger!... to me!... No, no, he loves me, I
+know he does ... but why did he not tell me so! Has some one come
+between us? Perhaps a suspicion separates us.... Oh! he may think I am
+in love with Edgar! horrible idea! the thought kills me.... I will write
+to him; would you not advise it? What shall I tell him? If he were to
+know who I am, doubtless his prejudices against me would be removed. Oh!
+I will return to Paris--then he will see that I do not love Edgar, since
+I leave him never to return where he is. Yet he could not have been
+mistaken concerning the feelings existing between his friend and myself;
+he must have seen that I was perfectly free: independence cannot be
+assumed. If he thought me in love with another, why did he come to bid
+me good-bye? why did he come alone to see me? and why did he not allude
+to my approaching return to Paris?--why did he not say he would be glad
+to meet me again? How pale and sad he was! and yet he uttered not one
+word of regret--of distant hope! The servant said: "Monsieur de Villiers
+wishes to see madame, shall I send him away as I did Monsieur de
+Meilhan?" I was in the garden and advanced to meet him. He said: "I
+return to Paris to-morrow, madame, and have come to see if you have any
+commands, and to bid you good-bye."
+
+Two long days had passed since I last saw him, and this unexpected visit
+startled me so that I was afraid to trust my voice to speak. "They will
+miss you very much at Richeport," he added, "and Madame de Meilhan hopes
+daily to see you return." I hastily said: "I cannot return to her
+house, I am going away from here very soon." He did not ask where, but
+gazed at me in a strange, almost suspicious way, and to change the
+conversation, said: "We had at Richeport, after you left, a charming
+man, who is celebrated for his wit and for being a great traveller--the
+Prince de Monbert." ... He spoke as if on an indifferent subject, and
+Heaven knows he was right, for Roger at this moment interested me very,
+very little. I waited for a word of the future, a ray of hope to
+brighten my life, another of those tender glances that thrilled my soul
+with joy ... but he avoided all allusion to our past intercourse; he
+shunned my looks as carefully as he had formerly sought them.... I was
+alarmed.... I no longer understood him.... I looked around to see if we
+were not watched, so changed was his manner, so cold and formal was his
+speech.... Strange! I was alone with him, but he was not alone with me;
+there was a third person between us, invisible to me, but to him
+visible, dictating his words and inspiring his conduct.
+
+"Shall you remain long in Paris?" I asked, trembling and dismayed. "I am
+not decided at present, madame," he replied. Irritated by this mystery,
+I was tempted for a moment to say: "I hope, if you remain in Paris for
+any length of time, I shall have the pleasure of seeing you at my
+cousin's, the Duchess de Langeac," and then I thought of telling him my
+story. I was tired of playing the rôle of adventuress before him ... but
+he seemed so preoccupied, and inattentive to what I said, he so coldly
+received my affectionate overtures, that I had not the courage to
+confide in him. Would not my confidence be met with indifference? One
+thing consoled me--his sadness; and then he had come, not on my account,
+but on his own; nothing obliged him to make this visit; it could only
+have been inspired by a wish to see me. While he remained near me, in
+spite of his strange indifference, I had hope; I believed that in his
+farewell there would be one kind word upon which I could live till we
+should meet again ... I was mistaken ... he bowed and left me ... left
+me without a word ...! Then I felt that all was lost, and bursting into
+tears sobbed like a child. Suddenly the servant opened the door and
+said: "The gentleman forgot Madame de Meilhan's letters." At that moment
+he entered the room and took from the table a packet of letters that the
+servant had given him when he first came, but which he had forgotten
+when leaving. At the sight of my tears he stood still with an agitated,
+alarmed look upon his face; he then gazed at me with a singular
+expression of cruel joy sparkling in his eyes. I thought he had come
+back to say something to me, but he abruptly left the room. I heard the
+door shut, and knew it had shut off my hopes of happiness.
+
+The next day, at the risk of meeting Edgar with him, I remained all day
+on the road that runs along the Seine. I hoped he would go that way. I
+also hoped he would come once more to see me ... to bring him back I
+relied upon my tears--upon those tears shed for him, and which he must
+have understood ... he came not! Three days have passed since he left,
+and I spend all my time in recalling this last interview, what he said
+to me, his tone of voice, his look.... One minute I find an explanation
+for everything, my faith revives ... he loves me! he is waiting for
+something to happen, he wishes to take some step, he fears some
+obstacle, he waits to clear up some doubts ... a generous scruple
+restrains him.... The next minute the dreadful truth stares me in the
+face. I say to myself: "He is a young man full of imagination, of
+romantic ideas ... we met, I pleased him, he would have loved me had I
+belonged to his station in life; but everything separates us; he will
+forget me." ... Then, revolting against a fate that I can successfully
+resist, I exclaim: "I _will_ see him again ... I am young, free, and
+beautiful--I must be beautiful, for he told me so--I have an income of a
+hundred thousand pounds.... With all these blessings it would be absurd
+for me not to be happy. Besides, I love him deeply, and this ardent love
+inspires me with great confidence ... it is impossible that so much love
+should be born in my heart for no purpose." ... Sometimes this
+confidence deserts me, and I despairingly say: "M. de Villiers is a
+loyal man, who would have frankly said to me: 'I love you, love me and
+let us be happy.'" ... Since he did not say that, there must exist
+between us an insurmountable obstacle, a barrier of invincible delicacy;
+because he is engaged he cannot devote his life to me, and he must
+renounce me for ever. M. de Meilhan comes here every day; I send word I
+am too sick to see him; which is the truth, for I would be in Paris now
+if I were well enough to travel. I shall not return by the cars, I dread
+meeting Roger. I forgot to tell you about his arrival at Richeport; it
+is an amusing story; I laughed very much at the time; _then_ I could
+laugh, now I never expect to smile again.
+
+Four days ago, I was at Richeport, all the time wishing to leave, and
+always detained by Mad. de Meilhan; it was about noon, and we were all
+sitting in the parlor--Edgar, M. de Villiers, Mad. de Meilhan and
+myself. Ah! how happy I was that day ... How could I foresee any
+trouble?... They were listening to an air I was playing from Bellini ...
+A servant entered and asked this simple question: "Does madame expect
+the Prince de Monbert by the twelve o'clock train?"..... At this name I
+quickly fled, without stopping to pick up the piano stool that I
+overturned in my hurried retreat. I ran to my room, took my hat and an
+umbrella to hide my face should I meet any one, and walked to Pont de
+l'Arche. Soon after I heard the Prince had arrived, and dinner was
+ordered for five o'clock, so he could leave in the 7.30 train.
+Politeness required me to send word to Mad. de Meilhan that I would be
+detained at Pont de l'Arche. To avoid the entreaties of Edgar I took
+refuge at the house of an old fishwoman, near the gate of the town. She
+is devoted to me, and I often take her children toys and clothes. At
+half-past six, the time for Roger to be taken to the depôt, I was at the
+window of this house, which was on the road that led to the
+cars--presently I heard several familiar voices.... I heard my name
+distinctly pronounced.... "Mlle de Chateaudun." ... I concealed myself
+behind the half-closed blinds, and attentively listened: "She is at
+Rouen," said the Prince.
+
+... "What a strange woman," said M. de Villiers: "Ah! this conduct is
+easily explained," said Edgar, "she is angry with him." "Doubtless she
+believes me culpable," replied the Prince, "and I wish at all costs to
+see her and justify myself." In speaking thus, they all three passed
+under the window where I was. I trembled--I dared not look at them....
+When they had gone by, I peeped through the shutter and saw them all
+standing still and admiring the beautiful bridge with its flower-covered
+pillars, and the superb landscape spread before them. Seeing these three
+handsome men standing there, all three so elegant, so distinguished! A
+wicked sentiment of female vanity crossed my mind; and I said to myself
+with miserable pride and triumph: "All three love me ... All three are
+thinking of me!" ... Oh! I have been cruelly punished for this
+contemptible vanity. Alas! one of the three did not love me--and he was
+the one I loved--one of them did not think of me, and he was the one
+that filled my every thought. Another sentiment more noble than the
+first, saddened my heart. I said: "Here are three devoted friends ...
+perhaps they will soon be bitter enemies ... and I the cause." O
+Valentine! you cannot imagine how sad and despondent I am. Do not desert
+me now that I most need your comforting sympathy! Burn my last letter, I
+entreat you.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to_ MADAME GUERIN,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 10th 18--.
+
+Three times have I been to the post-office since you left the château in
+such an abrupt and inexplicable manner. I am lost in conjecture about
+your sudden departure, which was both unnecessary and unprepared. It is
+doubtless because you do not wish to tell me the reason that you refuse
+to see me. I know that you are still at Pont de l'Arche, and that you
+have never left Madame Taverneau's house. So that when she tells me in a
+measured and mysterious tone that you have been absent for some time;
+looking at the closed door of your room, behind which I divine your
+presence, I am seized with an insane desire to kick down the narrow
+plank which separates me from you. Fits of gloomy passion possess me
+which illogical obstacles and unjust resistance always excite.
+
+What have I done? What can you have against me? Let me at least know the
+crime for which I am punished. On the scaffold they always read the
+victim his sentence, equitable or otherwise. Will you be more cruel than
+a hangman? Read me my sentence. Nothing is more frightful than to be
+executed in a dungeon without knowing for what offence.
+
+For three days--three eternities--I have taxed my memory to an alarming
+extent. I have recalled everything that I have said for the last two
+weeks, word by word, syllable for syllable, endeavoring to give to each
+expression its intonation, its inflection, its sharps and flats. Every
+different signification that the music of the voice could give to a
+thought, I have analyzed, debated, commented upon twenty times a day.
+Not a word, accent nor gesture has enlightened me. I defy the most
+embittered and envious spirit to find anything that could offend the
+most susceptible pride, the haughtiest majesty. Nothing has occurred in
+my familiar intercourse with you that would alarm a sensitive plant or
+a mimosa. Therefore, such cannot be the motive for your panic-stricken
+flight. I am young, ardent, impetuous; I attach no importance to certain
+social conventionalities, but I feel confident that I have never failed
+in a religious respect for the holiness of love and modesty. I love
+you--I could never, wilfully, have offended you. How could my eyes and
+lips have expressed what was neither in my head nor in my heart? If
+there is no fire without smoke, as a natural consequence there can be no
+smoke without fire!
+
+It is not that--Is it caprice or coquetry? Your mind is too serious and
+your soul too honest for such an act; and besides, what would be your
+object? Such feline cruelties may suit blasé women of the world who are
+roused by the sight of moral torture; who give, in the invisible sphere
+of the passions, feasts of the Roman empresses, where beating hearts are
+torn by the claws of the wild beasts of the soul, unbridled desires,
+insatiate hate and maddened jealousy, all the hideous pack of bad
+passions. Louise, you have not wished to play such a game with me. It
+would be unavailing and dangerous.
+
+Although I have been brought up in what is called the world, I am still
+a savage at heart. I can talk as others do of politics, railroads,
+social economy, literature. I can imitate civilized gesture tolerably
+well; but under this white-glove polish I have preserved the vehemence
+and simplicity of barbarism. Unless you have some serious, paramount
+reason, not one of those trivial excuses with which ordinary women
+revenge themselves upon the lukewarmness of their lovers--do not prolong
+my punishment a day, an hour, a minute--speak not to me of reputation,
+virtue or duty. You have given me the right to love you--by the light of
+the stars, under the sweet-scented acacias, in the sunlight at the
+window of Richard's donjon which opens over an abyss. You have conferred
+upon me that august priesthood. Your hand has trembled in mine. A
+celestial light, kindled by my glance, has shone in your eyes. If only
+for a moment, your soul was mine--the electric spark united us.
+
+It may be that this signifies nothing to you. I refuse to acknowledge
+any such subtle distinctions--that moment united us for ever. For one
+instant you wished to love me; I cannot divide my mind, soul and body
+into three distinct parts; all my being worships you and longs to obtain
+you. I cannot graduate my love according to its object. I do not know
+who you are. You might be a queen of earth or the queen of heaven; I
+could not love you otherwise.
+
+Receive me. You need explain nothing if you do not wish; but receive me;
+I cannot live without you. What difference does it make to you if I see
+you?
+
+Ah! how I suffered, even when you were at the château! What evil
+influence stood between us? I had a vague feeling that something
+important and fatal had happened. It was a sort of presentiment of the
+fulfilment of a destiny. Was your fate or mine decided in that hour, or
+both? What decisive sentence had the recording angel written upon the
+ineffaceable register of the future? Who was condemned and who absolved
+in that solemn hour?
+
+And yet no appreciable event happened, nothing appeared changed in our
+life. Why this fearful uneasiness, this deep dejection, this
+presentiment of a great but unknown danger? I have had that same
+instinctive perception of evil, that magnetic terror which slumbering
+misers experience when a thief prowls around their hidden treasure; it
+seemed as if some one wished to rob me of my happiness.
+
+We were embarrassed in each other's presence; some one acted as a
+restraint upon us. Who was it? No one was there but Raymond, one of my
+best friends, who had arrived the evening before and was soon to depart
+in order to marry his cousin, young, pretty and rich! It is singular
+that he, so gentle, so confiding, so unreserved, so chivalrous, should
+have appeared to me sharp, taciturn, rough, almost dull,--and my
+feelings towards him were full of bitterness and spite. Can friendship
+be but lukewarm hate? I fear so, for I often felt a savage desire to
+quarrel with Raymond and seize him by the throat. He talked of a blade
+of grass, a fly, of the most indifferent object, and I felt wounded as
+if by a personality. Everything he did offended me; if he stood up I was
+indignant, if he sat down I became furious; every movement of his seemed
+a provocation; why did I not perceive this sooner? How does it happen
+that the man for whom I entertain such a strong natural aversion should
+have been my friend for ten years? How strange that I should not have
+been aware of this antipathy sooner!
+
+And you, ordinarily so natural, so easy in your manners, became
+constrained; you scarcely answered me when he was present. The simplest
+expression agitated you; it seemed as if you had to give an account to
+some one of every word, and that you were afraid of a scolding, like a
+young girl who is brought by her mother into the drawing-room for the
+first time.
+
+One evening, I was sitting by you on the sofa, reading to you that
+sublime elegy of the great poet, La Tristesse d'Olympio; Raymond
+entered. You rose abruptly, like a guilty child, assumed an humble and
+repentant attitude, asking forgiveness with your eyes. In what secret
+compact, what hidden covenant, had you failed?
+
+The look with which Raymond answered yours doubtless contained your
+pardon, for you resumed your seat, but moved away from me so as not to
+abuse the accorded grace; I continued to read, but you no longer
+listened--you were absorbed in a delicious revery through which floated
+vaguely the lines of the poet. I was at your feet, and never have I felt
+so far away from you. The space between us, too narrow for another to
+occupy, was an abyss.
+
+What invisible hand dashed me down from my heaven? Who drove me, in my
+unconsciousness, as far from you as the equator from the pole? Yesterday
+your eyes, bathed in light and life, turned softly towards me; your hand
+rested willingly in mine. You accepted my love, unavowed but understood;
+for I hate those declarations which remind one of a challenge. If one
+has need to say that he loves, he is not worth loving; speech is
+intended for indifferent beings; talking is a means of keeping silent;
+you must have seen, in my glance, by the trembling of my voice, in my
+sudden changes of color, by the impalpable caress of my manner, that I
+love you madly.
+
+It was when Raymond looked at you that I began to appreciate the depth
+of my passion. I felt as if some one had thrust a red-hot iron into my
+heart. Ah! what a wretched country France is! If I were in Turkey, I
+would bear you off on my Arab steed, shut you up in a harem, with walls
+bristling with cimetars, surrounded by a deep moat; black eunuchs should
+sleep before the threshold of your chamber, and at night, instead of
+dogs, lions should guard the precincts!
+
+Do not laugh at my violence, it is sincere; no one will ever love you
+like me. Raymond cannot--a sentimental Don Quixote, in search of
+adventures and chivalrous deeds. In order to love a woman, he must have
+fished her out of the spray of Niagara; or dislocated his shoulder in
+stopping her carriage on the brink of a precipice; or snatched her out
+of the hands of picturesque bandits, costumed like Fra Diavolo; he is
+only fit for the hero of a ten-volume English novel, with a long-tailed
+coat, tight gray pantaloons and top-boots. You are too sensible to
+admire the philanthropic freaks of this modern paladin, who would be
+ridiculous were he not brave, rich and handsome; this moral Don Juan,
+who seduces by his virtue, cannot suit you.
+
+When shall I see you? Our moments of happiness in this life are so
+short; I have lost three days of Paradise by your persistence in
+concealing yourself. What god can ever restore them to me?
+
+Louise, I have only loved, till now, marble shadows, phantoms of beauty;
+but what is this love of sculpture and painting compared with the
+passion that consumes me? Ah! how bittersweet it is to be deprived at
+once of will, strength and reason, and trembling, kneeling, vanquished,
+to surrender the key of one's heart into the hands of the beautiful
+victor! Do not, like Elfrida, throw it into the torrent!
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE BE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+ROUEN, July 12th 18--
+
+MADAME:--If you should find in these hastily written lines expressions
+of severity that might wound you in one of your tenderest affections, I
+beg you to ascribe them to the serious interest with which you have
+inspired me for a person whom I do do not know. Madame, the case is
+serious, and the comedy, performed for the gratification of childish
+vanity, might, if prolonged, end in a tragedy. Let Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun know immediately that her peace of mind, her whole future is
+at stake. You have not a day, not an hour, not an instant to lose in
+exerting your influence. I answer for nothing; haste, O haste! Your
+position, your high intelligence, your good sense give you, necessarily,
+the authority of an elder sister or a mother over Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun; exercise it if you would save that reckless girl. If she
+acts from caprice, nothing can justify it; if she is playing a game it
+is a cruel one, with ruin in the end; if she is subjecting M. de Monbert
+to a trial, it has lasted long enough.
+
+I accompanied M. de Monbert to Rouen; I lived in daily, hourly
+intercourse with him, and had ample opportunities for studying his
+character; he is a wounded lion. Never having had the honor of meeting
+Mademoiselle de Chateaudun, I cannot tell whether the Prince is the man
+to suit her; Mademoiselle de Chateaudun alone can decide so delicate a
+question. But I do assert that M. de Monbert is not the man to be
+trifled with, and whatever decision Mademoiselle de Chateaudun may come
+to, it is her duty and due to her dignity to put an end to his suspense.
+
+If she must strike, let her strike quickly, and not show herself more
+pitiless than the executioner, who, at least, puts a speedy end to his
+victim's misery. M. de Monbert, a gentleman in the highest acceptation
+of the word, would not be what he now is, if he had been treated with
+the consideration that his sincere distress so worthy of pity, his true
+love so worthy of respect, commanded. Let her not deceive herself; she
+has awakened, not one of those idle loves born in a Parisian atmosphere,
+which die as they have lived, without a struggle or a heart-break, but a
+strong and deep passion that if trifled with may destroy her. I
+acknowledge that there is something absurd in a prince on the eve of
+marrying a young and beautiful heiress finding himself deserted by his
+fiancée with her millions; but when one has seen the comic hero of this
+little play, the scene changes. The smile fades from the lips; the jest
+is silent; terror follows in the footsteps of gayety, and the foolish
+freak of the lovely fugitive assumes the formidable proportions of a
+frightful drama. M. de Monbert is not what he is generally supposed to
+be, what I supposed him before seeing him after ten years' separation.
+His blood has been inflamed by torrid suns; he has preserved, in a
+measure, the manners and fierce passions of the distant peoples that he
+has visited; he hides it all under the polish of grace and elegance;
+affable and ready for anything, one would never suspect, to see him, the
+fierce and turbulent passions warring in his breast; he is like those
+wells in India, which he told me of this morning; they are surrounded by
+flowers and luxuriant foliage; go down into one of them and you will
+quickly return pale and horror-stricken. Madame, I assure you that this
+man suffers everything that it is possible to suffer here below. I watch
+his despair; it terrifies me. Wounded love and pride do not alone prey
+upon him; he is aware that Mademoiselle de Chateaudun may believe him
+guilty of serious errors; he demands to be allowed to justify himself in
+her eyes; he is exasperated by the consciousness of his unrecognised
+innocence. Condemn him, if you will, but at least let him be heard in
+his own defence. I have seen him writhe in agony and give way to groans
+of rage and despair. When calm, he is more terrible to contemplate; his
+silence is the pause before a tempest. Yesterday, on returning,
+discouraged, after a whole day spent in fruitless search, he took my
+hand and raised it abruptly to his eyes. "Raymond," said he, "I have
+never wept," and my hand was wet. If you love Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun, if her future happiness is dear to you, if her heart can
+only be touched through you, warn her, madame, warn her immediately;
+tell her plainly what she has to expect; time presses.
+
+It is a question of nothing less than anticipating an irreparable
+misfortune. There is but one step from love to hate; hate which takes
+revenge is still love. Tell this child that she is playing with thunder;
+tell her the thunder mutters, and will soon burst over her head. If
+Mademoiselle de Chateaudun should have a new love for her excuse, if she
+has broken her faith to give it to another, unhappy, thrice unhappy she!
+M. de Monbert has a quick eye and a practised hand; mourning would
+follow swiftly in the wake of her rejoicing, and Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun might order her widow's weeds and her bridal robes at the
+same time.
+
+This, madame, is all that I have to say. The foolish rapture with which
+my last letter teemed is not worth speaking of. A broken hope, crushed,
+extinguished; a happiness vanished ere fully seen! During the four days
+that I was at Richeport, I began to remark the existence between M. de
+Meilhan and myself of a sullen, secret, unavowed but real irritation,
+when a letter from M. de Monbert solved the enigma by convincing me that
+I was in the way under that roof. Fool, why did I not see it myself and
+sooner? Blind that I was, not to perceive from the first that this young
+man loved that woman! Why did I not instantly divine that this young
+poet could not live unscathed near so much beauty, grace and sweetness?
+Did I think, unhappy man that I am, that she was only fair to me; that I
+alone had eyes to admire her, a heart to worship and understand her?
+Yes, I did think it; I believed blindly that she bloomed for me alone;
+that she had not existed before our meeting; that no look, save mine,
+had ever rested upon her; that she was, in fact, my creation; that I
+had formed her of my thoughts, and vivified her with the fire of my
+dreams. Even now, when we are parted for ever, I believe, that if God
+ever created two beings for each other, we are those two beings, and if
+every soul has a sister spirit, her soul is the sister spirit of mine.
+M. de Meilhan loves her; who would not love her? But what he loves in
+her is visible beauty: the slope of her shoulders, the perfection of her
+contours. His love could not withstand a pencil-stroke which might
+destroy the harmony of the whole. Beautiful as she is, he would desert
+her for the first canvas or the first statue he might encounter. Her
+rivals already people the galleries of the Louvre; the museums of the
+world are filled with them. Edgar feels but one deep and true love; the
+love of Art, so deep that it excludes or absorbs all others in his
+heart. A fine prospect alone charms him, if it recalls a landscape of
+Ruysdael or of Paul Huet, and he prefers to the loveliest model, her
+portrait, provided it bears the signature of Ingres or Scheffer. He
+loves this woman as an artist; he has made her the delight of his eyes;
+she would have been the joy of my whole life. Besides, Edgar does not
+possess any of the social virtues. He is whimsical by nature, hostile to
+the proprieties, an enemy to every well-beaten track. His mind is always
+at war with his heart; his sincerest inspirations have the scoffing
+accompaniment of Don Juan's romance. No, he cannot make the happiness of
+this Louise so long sought for, so long hoped for, found, alas! to be
+irremediably lost. Louise deceives herself if she thinks otherwise. But
+she does not think so. What is so agonizing in the necessity that
+separates us, is the conviction that such a separation blasts two
+destinies, silently united. I do not repine at the loss of my own
+happiness alone, but above all, over that of this noble creature. I am
+convinced that when we met, we recognised each other; she mentally
+exclaimed, "It is he!" when I told myself, "It is she!" When I went to
+bid her farewell, a long, eternal farewell, I found her pale, sad; the
+tears rolled, unchecked, down her cheeks. She loves me, I know it; I
+feel it; and still I must depart! she wept and I was forced to be
+silent! One single word would have opened Paradise to us, and that word
+I could not utter! Farewell, sweet dream, vanished for ever! And thou,
+stern and stupid honor, I curse thee while I serve thee, and execrate
+while I sacrifice all to thee. Ah! do not think that I am resigned; do
+not believe that pride can ever fill up the abyss into which I have
+voluntarily cast myself; do not hope that some day I shall find
+self-satisfaction as a recompense for my abnegation. There are moments
+when I hate myself and rebel against my own imbecility. Why depart? What
+is Edgar to me? still less, what interest have I in his love episodes? I
+love; I feel myself loved in return; what have I to do with anything
+else?
+
+Contempt for my cowardly virtue is the only price that I have received
+for my sacrifice, and I twit myself with this thought of Pascal: "Man is
+neither an angel nor a brute, and the misfortune is that when he wishes
+to make himself an angel, he becomes a brute!" Be silent, my heart! At
+least it shall never be said that the descendant of a race of cavaliers
+entered his friend's house to rob him of his happiness.
+
+I am sad, madame. The bright ray seen for a moment, has but made the
+darkness into which I have fallen, more black and sombre; I am
+unutterably sad! What is to become of me? Where shall I drag out my
+weary days? I do not know. Everything wearies and bores me, or rather
+all things are indifferent to me. I think I will travel. Wherever I go,
+your image will accompany me, consoling me, if I can be consoled. At
+first I thought that I would carry you my heart to comfort; but my
+unhappiness is dear to me, and I do not wish to be cured of it.
+
+I press M. de Braimes's hand, and clasp your charming children warmly to
+my heart.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Poste Restante (Rouen).
+
+Richeport, July 23d 18--.
+
+I am mad with rage, wild with grief! That Louise! I do not know what
+keeps me from setting fire to the house that conceals her! I must go
+away; I shall commit some insane act, some crime, if I remain! I have
+written her letter after letter; I have tried in every way to see her;
+all my efforts unavailing! It is like beating your head against a wall!
+Coquette and prude!--appalling combination, too common a monstrosity,
+alas!
+
+She will not see me! all is over! nothing can overcome her stupid,
+obstinacy which she takes for virtue. If I could only have spoken to her
+once, I should have said--I don't know what, but I should have found
+words to make her return to me. But she entrenches herself behind her
+obstinacy; she knows that I would vanquish her; she has no good
+arguments with which to answer me; for I love her madly, desperately,
+frantically! Passion is eloquent. She flies from me! O perfidy and
+cowardice! she dare not face the misery she has caused, and veils her
+eyes when she strikes!
+
+I am going to America. I will dull my mental grief by physical
+exhaustion; I will subdue the soul through the body; I will ascend the
+giant rivers whose bosoms bloom with thousands of islands; penetrate
+into the virgin forests where no trapper has yet set his foot; I will
+hunt the buffalo with the savage, and swim upon that ocean of shaggy
+heads and sharp horns; I will gallop at full speed over the prairie,
+pursued by the smoke of the burning grass. If the memory of Louise
+refuses to leave me, I will stop my horse and await the flames! I will
+carry my love so far away that it must perforce leave me.
+
+I feel it, my life is wrecked for ever!--I cannot live in a world where
+Louise is not mine! Perhaps the young universe may contain a panacea
+for my anguish! Solitude shall pour its balm in my wound; once away from
+this civilization which stifles me, nature will cradle me in her
+motherly arms; the elements will resume their empire over me; ocean,
+sky, flowers, foliage will draw off the feverish electricity that
+excites my nerves; I will become absorbed in the grand whole, I will no
+longer live; I will vegetate and succeed in attaining the content of the
+plant that opens its leaves to the sun. I feel that I must stop my
+brain, suspend the beating of my heart, or I shall go raving mad.
+
+I shall sail from Havre. A year from now write to me at the English fort
+in the Rocky Mountains, and I will join you in whatever corner of the
+globe you have gone to bury your despair over the loss of Irene de
+Chateaudun!
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to_ MADAME GUERIN,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 23d 18--.
+
+Louise, I write to you, although the resolution that I have taken
+should, no doubt, he silently carried out; but the swimmer struggling
+with the waves in mid-ocean cannot help, although he knows it is
+useless, uttering a last wild cry ere he sinks forever beneath the
+flood. Perhaps a sail may appear on the desert horizon and his last
+despairing shout be heard! It is so hard to believe ourselves finally
+condemned and to renounce all hope of pardon! My letter will be of no
+avail, and yet I cannot help sending it.
+
+I am going to leave France, change worlds and skies. My passage is taken
+for America. The murmur of ocean and forest must soothe my despair. A
+great sorrow requires immensity. I would suffocate here. I should
+expect, at every turn, to see your white dress gleaming among the trees.
+Richeport is too much associated with you for me to dwell here longer;
+your memory has exiled me from it for ever. I must put a huge
+impossibility between myself and you; six thousand miles hardly suffice
+to separate us.
+
+If I remained, I should resort to all manner of mad schemes to recover
+my happiness; no one gives up his cherished dream with more reluctance
+than I, especially when a word could make it a reality.
+
+Louise, Louise, why do you avoid me and close your heart against me! You
+have not understood, perhaps, how much I love you? Has not my devotion
+shone in my eyes? I have not been able, perhaps, to convey to you what I
+felt? You have no more comprehended my adoration than the insensate idol
+the prayers of the faithful prostrated before it.
+
+Nevertheless, I was convinced that I could make you happy; I thought
+that I appreciated the longings of your soul, and would be able to
+satisfy them all.
+
+What crime have I committed against heaven to be punished with this
+biting despair? Perhaps I have failed to appreciate some sincere
+affection, repulsed unwittingly some simple, tender heart that your
+coldness now avenges; perhaps you are, unconsciously, the Nemesis of
+some forgotten fault.
+
+How fearful it is to suffer from rejected love! To say to oneself: "The
+loved one exists, far from me, without me; she is young, smiling,
+lovely--to others; my despair is only an annoyance to her, I am
+necessary to her in nothing; my absence leaves no void in her life; my
+death would only provoke from her an expression of careless pity; my
+good and noble qualities have made no impression upon her; my verses,
+the delight of other young hearts, she has never read; my talents are as
+destructive to me as if they were crimes; why seek a hell in another
+world; is it not here?"
+
+And besides, what infinite tenderness, what perpetual care, what timid
+and loving persistence, what obedience to every unexpressed wish, what
+prompt realization of even the slightest fancy! for what! for a careless
+glance, a smile that the thought of another brings to her lips! How can
+it be helped! he who is not beloved is always in the wrong.
+
+I go away, carrying the iron in my wound; I will not drag it out, I
+prefer to die with it. May you live happy, may the fearful suffering
+that you have caused me never be expiated. I would have it so; society
+punishes murder of the body, heaven punishes murders of the soul. May
+your hidden assassination escape Divine vengeance as long as possible.
+
+Farewell, Louise, farewell.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+PARIS, July 27th 18--.
+
+Valentine, I am very uneasy. Why have I not heard from you for a month?
+Are you in any trouble? Is one of your dear children ill? Are you no
+longer at Grenoble? Have you taken your trip without me? The last would
+be the most acceptable reason for your silence. You have not received my
+letters, and ignorance of my sorrows accounts for your not writing to
+console me. Yet never have I been in greater need of the offices of
+friendship. The resolution I have just taken fills me with alarm. I
+acted against my judgment, but I could not do otherwise. I was
+influenced by an agonized mother, whose hallowed grief persuaded me
+against my will to espouse her interests. Why have I not a friend here
+to interpose in my behalf and save me from myself? But, after all, does
+it make any difference what becomes of me? Hope is dead within me. I no
+longer dream of happiness. At last the sad mystery is explained.... M.
+de Villiers is not free; he is engaged to his cousin.... Oh, he does not
+love her, I am sure, but he is a slave to his plighted troth, and of
+course she loves him and will not release him ... Can he, for a
+stranger, sacrifice family ties and a love dating from his childhood?
+Ah! if he really loved me, he would have had the courage to make this
+sacrifice; but he only felt a tender sympathy for me, lively enough to
+fill him with everlasting regret, not strong enough to inspire him with
+a painful resolution. Thus two beings created for each other meet for a
+moment, recognise one another, and then, unwillingly, separate, carrying
+in their different paths of life a burden of eternal regrets! And they
+languish apart in their separate spheres, unhappy and attached to
+nothing but the memory of the past--made wretched for life by the
+accidents of a day!
+
+They are as the passengers of different ships, meeting for an hour in
+the same port, who hastily exchange a few words of sympathy, then pass
+away to other latitudes, under other skies--some to the North, others to
+the South, to the land of ice--to the cradle of the sun--far, far away
+from each other, to die. Is it then true that I shall never see him
+again? Oh, my God! how I loved him! I can never forgive him for not
+accepting this love that I was ready to lavish upon him.
+
+I will now tell you what I have resolved to do. If I waver a moment I
+shall not have the courage to keep my promise. Madame de Meilhan is
+coming after me; I could not, after causing her such sorrow, resist the
+tears of this unhappy mother. She was in despair; her son had suddenly
+left her, and in spite of the secrecy of his movements, she discovered
+that he was at Havre and had taken passage there for America, on the
+steamer Ontario. She hoped to reach Havre in time to see her son, and
+she relied upon me to bring him home. I am distressed at causing her so
+much uneasiness, but what can I say to console her? I will at best be
+generous; Edgar's sorrow is like my own; as he suffers for me, I suffer
+for another; I cannot see his anguish, so like my own, without profound
+pity; this pity will doubtless inspire me with eloquence enough to
+persuade him to remain in France and not break his mother's heart by
+desertion. Besides, I have promised, and Madame de Meilhan relies upon
+me. How beautiful is maternal love! It crushes the loftiest pride, it
+overthrows with one cry the most ambitious plans; this haughty woman is
+subjugated by grief; she calls me her daughter; she gladly consents to
+this marriage which, a short time ago, she said would ruin her son's
+prospects, and which she looked upon with horror; she weeps, she
+supplicates. This morning she embraced me with every expression of
+devotion and cried out: "Give me back my son! Oh, restore to me my
+son!... You love him, ... he loves you, ... he is handsome, charming,
+talented.... I shall never see him again if you let him go away; tell
+him you love him; have you the cruelty to deprive me of my only son?"
+What could I say? how could I make an idolizing mother understand that I
+did not love her son?... If I had dared to say, "It is not he that I
+love, it is another," ... she would have said: "It is false; there is
+not a man on earth preferable to my son." She wept over the letter that
+Edgar wrote me before leaving. Valentine, this letter was noble and
+touching. I could not restrain my own tears when I read it. Finally, I
+was forced to yield. I am to accompany Madame de Meilhan to Havre; I
+hope we will reach there before the steamer leaves!... Edgar will not go
+to America, ... and I!... Oh, why is he the one to love me thus?... She
+has come for me! Adieu; write to me, my dear Valentine, ... I am so
+miserable. If you were only here! What will become of me? Adieu!
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+Paris, Aug. 2d 18--.
+
+It is fortunate for me to-day, my dear Valentine, that I have the
+reputation of being a truthful person, professing a hatred of falsehood,
+otherwise you would not believe the strange facts that I am about to
+relate to you. I now expect to reap the fruits of my unvarying
+sincerity. Having always shown such respect for truth, I deserve to be
+believed when I assert what appears to be incredible.
+
+What startling events have occurred in a few hours! My destiny has been
+changed by my peeping through a hole!! Without one word of comment I
+will state exactly what happened, and you must not accuse me of highly
+coloring my pictures; they are lively enough in themselves without any
+assistance from me. Far from adding to their brilliancy, I shall
+endeavor to tone them down and give them an air of probability. We left
+Pont de l'Arche the other day with sad and anxious hearts; during the
+journey Mad. de Meilhan, as if doubting the strength of my resolution
+and the ardor of my devotion, dilated enthusiastically upon the merits
+of her son. She boasted of his generosity, of his disinterestedness and
+sincerity; she mentioned the names of several wealthy young ladies whom
+he had refused to marry during the last two or three years. She spoke of
+his great success as a poet and a brilliant man. She impressed upon me
+that a noble love could exercise such a happy influence upon his genius,
+and said it was in my power to make him a good and happy man for life,
+by accepting this love, which she described to me in such touching
+language, that I felt moved and impressed, if not with love, at least
+with tender appreciation. She said Edgar had never loved any one as he
+had loved me--this passion had changed all his ideas--he lived for me
+alone. To indure him to listen to any one it was necessary to bring my
+name in the conversation so as to secure his ear; he spent his days and
+nights composing poems in my honor. He should have returned to Paris in
+response to the beautiful Marquise de R.'s sighs and smiles, but he
+never had the courage to leave me; for me he had pitilessly sacrificed
+this woman, who was lovely, witty and the reigning belle of Paris. She
+mournfully told me of the wild foolish things he would do upon his
+return to Richeport, after having made fruitless attempts to see me at
+Pont de l'Arche; his cruelty to his favorite horse, his violence against
+the flowers along the path, that he would cut to pieces with his whip;
+his sullen, mute despair; his extravagant talk to her; her own
+uneasiness; her useless prayers; and finally this fatal departure that
+she had vainly endeavored to prevent. She saw that I was affected by
+what she said, she seized my hand and called down blessing's upon me,
+thanking me a thousand times passionately and imperiously, as if to
+compel me to accede to her wishes.
+
+I sorrowfully reflected upon all this trouble that I had caused, and was
+frightened at the conviction that I had by a few engaging smiles and a
+little harmless coquetry inspired so violent a passion. Thinking thus, I
+did justice to Edgar, and acknowledged that some reparation was due to
+him. He must have taken all these deceptive smiles to himself; when I
+first arrived at Pont de l'Arche, I had no scruples about being
+attractive, I expected to leave in a few days never to return again.
+Since then I had without pity refused his love, it is true; but could he
+believe this proud disdain to be genuine, when, after this decisive
+explanation, he found me tranquilly established at his mother's house?
+And there could he follow the different caprices of my mind, divine
+those temptations of generosity which first moved me in his favor, and
+then discover this wild love that was suddenly born in my soul for a
+phantom that I had only seen for a few hours?.... Had he not, on the
+contrary, a right to believe that I loved him, and to exclaim against
+the infamy, cruelty and perfidy of my refusing to see him, and my
+endeavors to convince him that I cared nothing for him? He was right to
+accuse me, for appearances were all against me--my own conduct condemned
+me. I must acknowledge myself culpable, and submit to the sentence that
+has been pronounced against me. I resigned myself sadly to repair the
+wrong I had committed. One hope still remained to me: Edgar brought back
+by me would be restored to his mother, but Edgar would cease to love me
+when he knew my real name. There is a difference between loving an
+adventuress, whose affections can be trifled with, and loving a woman of
+high birth and position, who must be honorably sought in marriage. Edgar
+has an invincible repugnance to matrimony; he considers this august
+institution as a monstrous inconvenience, very immoral, a profane
+revelation of the most sacred secrets of life; he calls it a public
+exhibition of affection; he says no one has a right to proclaim his
+preference for one woman. To call a woman: my wife! what revolting
+indiscretion! To call children: my children! what disgusting fatuity! In
+his eyes nothing is more horrible than a husband driving in the Champs
+Elysées with his family, which is tantamount to telling the passers-by:
+This woman seated by my side is the one I have chosen among all women,
+and to whom I am indebted for all pleasure in life; and this little girl
+who resembles her so much, and this little boy, the image of me, are the
+bonds of love between us. The Orientals, he added, whom we call
+barbarians, are more modest than we; they shut up their wives; they
+never appear in public with them, they never let any one see the objects
+of their tenderness, and they introduce young men of twenty, not as
+their sons, but as the heirs of their names and fortunes.
+
+Recalling these remarkable sentiments of M. de Meilhan, I said to
+myself: he will never marry. But Mad. de Meilhan, who was aware of her
+son's peculiar thoeries, assured me that they were very much modified,
+and that one day in speaking of me, he had angrily exclaimed: "Oh! I
+wish I were her husband, so I could shut her up, and prevent any one
+seeing her!" Now I understand why a man marries! This was not very
+reassuring, but I devoted myself like a victim, and for a victim there
+is no half sacrifice. Generosity, like cruelty, is absolute.
+
+After a night of anxious travel, we reached Havre at about ten in the
+morning. We drove rapidly to the office of the American steamers. Madame
+de Meilhan rushed frantically about until she found the sleepy clerk,
+who told her that M. de Meilhan had taken passage on the _Ontario_.
+
+"When does this vessel leave?"
+
+"I cannot tell you," said the gaping clerk.
+
+We ran to the pier and tremblingly asked: "Can you tell us if the
+American vessel _Ontario_ sails to-day?"
+
+The old sailor replied to us in nautical language which we could not
+understand. Another man said: "The _Ontario_ is pretty far out by this
+time!" We ran to the other end of the pier and found a crowd of people
+watching a cloud that was gradually disappearing in the distance. "I see
+nothing now," said one of the people. But I saw a little ... little
+smoke ... and I could distinctly see a flag with a large O on it....
+Madame de Meilhan, pale and breathless, had not the strength to ask the
+name of the fatal vessel that was almost out of sight ... I could only
+gasp out the word "_Ontario?"_ ...
+
+"Precisely so, madame, but don't be uneasy ... it is a fast vessel, and
+your friends will land in America before two weeks are passed. You look
+astonished, but it is the truth, the _Ontario_ is never behind time!"
+Madame de Meilhan fell fainting in my arms. She was lifted to our
+carriage and soon restored to consciousness, but was so overcome that
+she seemed incapable of comprehending the extent of her misfortune. We
+drove to the nearest hotel, and I remained in her room silently weeping
+and reproaching myself for having destroyed the happiness of this
+family.
+
+During these first moments of stupor Madame de Meilhan showed no
+indignation at my presence; but no sooner had she recovered the use of
+her senses than she burst into a storm of abuse; calling me a detestable
+intriguer, a low adventuress who, by my stage tricks, had turned the
+head of her noble son; I would be the cause of his death--that fatal
+country would never give back her son; what a pity to see so superior a
+man, a pride and credit to his country, perish, succumb, to the snares
+of an obscure prude, who had not the sense to be his mistress, who was
+incapable of loving him for a single day; an ambitious schemer, who had
+determined to entrap him into marriage, but unhesitatingly sacrificed
+him to M. de Villiers as soon as she found M. de Villiers was the richer
+of the two, ... and many other flattering accusations she made, that
+were equally ill-deserved. I quietly listened to all this abuse, and
+went on preparing a glass of _eau sucrée_ for the poor weeping fury,
+whose conduct inspired me with generous pity. When she had finished her
+tirade, I silently handed her the orange water to calm her anger, and I
+looked at her ... my look expressed such firm gentle pride, such
+generous indulgence, such invulnerable dignity, that she felt herself
+completely disarmed. She took my hand and said, as she dried her tears:
+"You must forgive me, I am _so_ unhappy!" Then I tried to console her; I
+told her I would write to her son, and she would soon have him back, as
+my letter would reach New York by the time he landed, and then it would
+only take him two weeks to return. This promise calmed her; then I
+persuaded her to lie down and recover from the fatigue of travelling all
+night. When I saw her poor swollen eyelids fairly closed, I left her to
+enjoy her slumbers and retired to my own room. I rested awhile and then
+rang to order preparations for our departure; but instead of the servant
+answering the bell, a pretty little girl, about eight years old, entered
+my room; upon seeing me she drew back frightened.
+
+"What do you want, my child?" I said, drawing her within the door.
+
+"Nothing, madame," she said.
+
+"But you must have come here for something?"
+
+"I did not know that madame was in her room."
+
+"What did you come to do in here?"
+
+"I came, as I did yesterday, to see."
+
+"To see what?"
+
+"In there ... the Turks ..."
+
+"The Turks? What! am I surrounded by Turks?"
+
+"Oh! they are not in the little room adjoining yours; but through this
+little room you can look into the large saloon where they all stay and
+have music ... will madame permit me to pass through?"
+
+"Which way?"
+
+"This way. There is a little door behind this toilet-table; I open it,
+go in, get up on the table and look at the Turks."
+
+The child rolled aside the toilet-table, entered the little room, and in
+a few minutes came running back to me and exclaimed:
+
+"Oh! they are so beautiful! does not madame wish to see them?"
+
+"No."
+
+In a short time she returned again.
+
+"The musicians are all asleep," she said ... "but, madame, the Turks are
+crazy--they don't sleep--they don't speak--they make horrible
+faces--they roll their eyes--they have such funny ways--one of them
+looks like my uncle when he has the fever--Oh! that one must be crazy,
+madame-- ... look, he is going to dance! now he is going to die!"
+
+The absurd prattle of the child finally aroused my curiosity. I went
+into the little room, and, mounting the table beside her, looked through
+a crevice in the wooden partition and clearly saw everything in the
+large saloon. It was hung up to a certain height with rich Turkish
+stuffs. The floor was covered by a superb Smyrna carpet. In one recess
+of the room the musicians were sleeping with their bizarre musical
+instruments tightly clasped in their arms. A dozen Turks, magnificently
+dressed, were seated on the soft carpet in Oriental fashion, that is to
+say, after the manner of tailors. They were supported by piles of
+cushions of all sizes and shapes, and seemed to be plunged in ecstatic
+oblivion.
+
+One of these dreamy sons of Aurora attracted my attention by his
+brilliant costume and flashing arms. By the pale light of the exhausted
+lamps and the faint rays of dawning day, almost obscured by the heavy
+drapery of the windows, I could scarcely distinguish the features of
+this splendid Mussulman, at the same time I thought I had seen him
+before. I had seen but few pachas during my life, but I certainly had
+met this one somewhere, I looked attentively and saw that his hands were
+whiter than those of his compatriots--this was a suspicious fact. After
+closely watching this doubtful infidel, this amateur barbarian, I began
+to suspect civilization and Europeanism.... One of the musicians asleep
+near the window, turned over and his long guitar--a _guzla_, I think it
+is called--caught in the curtain and drew it a little open; the sunlight
+streamed in the room and an accusing ray fell upon the face of the
+spurious young Turk.... It was Edgar de Meilhan! A little cup filled
+with a greenish conserve rested on a cushion near by. I remembered that
+he had often spoken to me of the wonderful effects of hashish, and of
+the violent desire he had of experiencing this fascinating stupefaction;
+he had also told me of one of his college friends who had been living in
+Smyrna for some years; an original, who had taken upon himself the
+mission of re-barbarizing the East. This friend had sent him a number of
+Indian poinards and Turkish pipes, and had promised him some tobacco and
+hashish. This modern and amateur Turk was named Arthur Granson.... I
+asked the innkeeper's little daughter if she knew the name of the man
+who had hired the saloon? She said yes, that he was named Monsieur
+Granson.... This name and this meeting explained everything.
+
+O Valentine! I will be sincere to the end, ... and confess that Edgar
+was wonderfully handsome in this costume!... the magnificent oriental
+stuff, the Turkish vest, embroidered in gold and silver, the yatagans,
+pistols and poinards studded with jewels, the turban draped with
+inimitable art--all these things gave him a majestic, superb, imposing
+aspect!... which at first astonished me, ... for we are all children
+when we first see beautiful objects, ... but he had a stupid look....
+No, never did a sultan of the opera, throwing his handkerchief to his
+bayadère ... a German prince of the gymnasium complimented by his
+court--a provincial Bajazet listening to the threatening declarations of
+Roxana--never did they display in the awkwardness of their rôles, in the
+stiffness of their movements, an attitude more absurdly ridiculous, an
+expression of countenance more ideally stupid. It is difficult to
+comprehend how a brilliant mind could so completely absent itself from
+its dwelling-place without leaving on the face it was wont to animate, a
+single trace, a faint ray of intelligence! Edgar had his eyes raised to
+the ceiling, ... and for an instant I think I caught his look, ... but
+Heavens! what a look! May I never meet such another! I shall add one
+more incident to my recital--important in itself but distasteful to me
+to relate--I will tell it in as few words as possible: Edgar was leaning
+on two piles of cushions; he seemed to be absorbed in the contemplation
+of invisible stars; he was awake, but a beautiful African slave, dressed
+like an Indian queen, was sleeping at his feet!
+
+This strange spectacle filled my heart with joy. Instead of being
+indignant, I was delighted at this insult to myself. Edgar evidently
+forgot me, and truly he had a right to forget me; I was not engaged to
+him as I had been to Roger. A young poet has a right to dress like a
+Turk, and amuse himself with his friends, to suit his own fancy; but a
+noble prince has no right to scandalize the public when the dignity of
+his rank has to be striven after and recovered; when the glory of his
+name is to be kept untarnished. Oh! this disgusting sight gave rise to
+no angry feeling in my bosom, I at once comprehended the advantages of
+the situation. No more sacrifice, no more remorse, no more hypocrisy! I
+was free; my future was restored to me. Oh, the good Edgar! Oh, the dear
+poet! How I loved him ... for not loving me!!
+
+I told the little girl to run quickly and bring me a servant. When the
+man came I handed him six louis to sharpen his wits, and then solemnly
+gave him my orders: "When they ring for you in that saloon, do you tell
+that young Turk with a red vest on ... you will remember him?" "Yes,
+madame." "You will tell him that the countess his mother is waiting here
+for him, in room No. 7, at the end of the corridor." "Ah! the lady who
+was weeping so bitterly?" "The same one." "Madame may rely upon me."
+
+I then paid my bill, and, inquiring the quickest way of leaving Havre, I
+fled from the hotel. Walking along Grande Rue de Paris, I saw with
+pleasure that the city was filled with strangers, who had come to take
+part in the festivities that were taking place at Havre, and that I
+could easily mingle in this great crowd and leave the town without being
+observed. Uneasy and agitated, I hurried along, and just as I was
+passing the theatre I heard some one call me. Imagine my alarm when I
+distinctly heard some one call: "Mlle. Irene! Mlle. Irene!" I was so
+frightened that I could scarcely move. The call was repeated, and I saw
+my faithful Blanchard rushing towards me, breathless and then I
+recognised the supplicating voice ... I turned around and weeping, she
+exclaimed: "I know everything, Mlle., you are going to America! Take me
+with you. This is the first time I have ever been separated from you
+since your birth!" I had left the poor woman at Pont de l'Arche, and
+she, thinking I was going to America, had followed me. "Be quiet and
+follow me," said I, forgetting to tell her that I was not going to
+America. I reached the wharf and jumped into a boat; the unhappy
+Blanchard, who is a hydrophobe, followed me. "You are afraid?" said I.
+"Oh, no, Mlle., I am afraid on the Seine, but at sea it is quite a
+different thing." The touching delicacy of this ingenious conceit moved
+me to tears. Wishing to shorten the agony of this devoted friend, I told
+the oarsman to row us into the nearest port, instead of going further by
+water, as I had intended, in order to avoid the Rouen route and the
+Prince, the steamboat and M. de Meilhan. As soon as we landed I sent my
+faithful companion to the nearest village to hire a carriage, "I must be
+in Paris, to-morrow," said I. "Then we are not going to America?" "No."
+"So much the better," said she, as she trotted off in high glee to look
+for a carriage. I remained alone, gazing at the ocean. Oh! how I enjoyed
+the sight! How I would love to live on this charming, terrible azure
+desert! I was so absorbed in admiration that I soon forgot my worldly
+troubles and the rain tribulations of my obscure life. I was intoxicated
+by its wild perfume, its free, invigorating air! I breathed for the
+first time! With what delight I let the sea-breeze blow my hair about my
+burning brow! How I loved to gaze on its boundless horizon! How
+much--laugh at my vanity--how much I felt at home in this immensity! I
+am not one of those modest souls that are oppressed and humiliated by
+the grandeur of Nature; I only feel in harmony with the sublime, not
+through myself, but through the aspirations of my mind. I never feel as
+if there was around me, above me, before me, too much air, too much
+height, too much space. I like the boundless, luminous horizon to render
+solitude and liberty invisible to my eyes.
+
+I know not if every one else is impressed as I was upon seeing the ocean
+for the first time. I felt released from all ties, purified of all
+hatred, and even of all earthly love; I was freed, calm, strong, armed,
+ready to brave all the evils of life, like a being who had received from
+God a right to disdain the world. The ocean and the sky have this good
+effect upon us--they wean us from worldly pleasures.
+
+Upon reaching Paris, I went at once to your father's to inquire about
+you, and had my uneasiness about you set at rest. You must have left
+Geneva by this time; I hope soon to receive a letter from you. I am not
+staying with my cousin. I am living in my dear little garret. I wish a
+long time to elapse before I again become Mlle. de Chateaudun. I wish
+time to recover from the rude shocks I have had. What do you think of my
+last experience? What a perfect success was my theory of discouragement!
+Alas! too perfect. First trial: Western despair and champagne! Second
+trial: Eastern despair and hashisch!--Not to speak of the consolatory
+accessories, snowy-armed beauties and ebony-armed slaves! I would be
+very unsophisticated indeed if I did not consider myself sufficiently
+enlightened. I implore you not to speak to me of your hero whom you wish
+me to marry; I am determined never to marry. I shall love an image,
+cherish a star. The little light has returned. I see it shining as I
+write to you. Yes, these poetic loves are all-sufficient for my wounded
+soul. One thing disturbs me; they have cut down the large trees in front
+of my window. To-morrow, perhaps, I shall at last see the being that
+dwells in this fraternal garret.... Valentine--suppose it should be my
+long-sought ideal!... I tremble! perhaps a third disenchantment awaits
+me.... Good-night, my dear Valentine, I embrace you. I am very tired,
+but very happy ... it is so delightful to be relieved of all uneasiness,
+to feel that you are not compelled to console any one.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Poste Restante (Rouen).
+
+PARIS, July 27th 18--.
+
+My dear Roger, at the risk of bringing down upon my head the ridicule
+merited by men who fire a pistol above their heads after having left on
+their table the night before the most thrilling adieux to the world, I
+must confess that I have not gone; you have a perfect right to drive me
+out of Europe; I promised to go to America, and you can compel me to
+fulfil my promise; be clement, do not overpower me with ridicule; do not
+riddle me with the fire of your mocking artillery; my sorrow, even
+though I remain in the old world, is none the less crushing.
+
+I must tell you how it all happened.
+
+As all my life I have never been able to comprehend the division of
+time, and it's a toss-up whether I distinguish day from night, I turned
+my back on the best hotel in Havre, and stopped at one nearest the
+wharf, from whence I could see the smoke-stacks of the Ontario, about to
+sail for New York. I was leaning on the balcony, in the melancholy
+attitude of Raphael's portrait, gazing at the swell of the ocean, with
+that feeling of infinite sadness which the strongest heart must yield to
+in the presence of that immensity formed of drops of bitter water, like
+human tears. I followed, listlessly, with my eyes the movements of a
+strange group which had just landed from the Portsmouth packet. They
+were richly-dressed Orientals, followed by negro servants and women
+enveloped in long veils.
+
+One of these Turks looked up as he passed under my window, saw me, and
+exclaimed in very correct French, with a decided Parisian accent: "Why,
+it's Edgar de Meilhan!" and, regardless of Oriental dignity, he dashed
+into the inn, bounded into my room, rubbed my face against his crisp
+black beard, punched me in the stomach with the carved hilts of a
+complete collection of yataghans and kandjars, and finally said, seeing
+my uncertainty: "Why! don't you know me, your old college chum, your
+playmate in childhood, Arthur Granson! Does my turban make such a change
+in me? So much the better! Or are you mean enough to stick to the letter
+of the proverb which pretends that friends are not Turks? By Allah and
+his prophet Mahomet, I shall prove to you that Turks are friends."
+
+During this flood of words I had in truth recognised Arthur Granson, a
+good and odd young fellow, whom I am very fond of, and who would surely
+please you, for he is the most paradoxical youth to be found in the five
+divisions of the globe. And, what is very rare, he acts out his
+paradoxes, a whim which his great independence of character and above
+all a large fortune permit him to indulge, for gold is liberty; the only
+slaves are the poor.
+
+"This much is settled, I will install myself here with my living palette
+of local colors;" and without giving me time to answer him, he left me
+to give the necessary orders for lodging his suite.
+
+When he returned, I said to him: "What does this strange masquerade
+mean? The carnival has been over for some time, and will not return
+immediately, as we are hardly through the summer." "It is not a
+masquerade," replied Arthur, with a dogmatic coolness and transcendental
+gravity which at any other time would have made me laugh. "It is a
+complete system, which I shall unfold to you."
+
+Whereupon my friend, taking off his Turkish slippers, crossed his legs
+on the divan in the approved classic attitude of the Osmanli, and
+running his fingers through his beard, spoke as follows:
+
+"During my travels I have observed that no people appreciate the
+peculiar beauties of the country they inhabit. No one admires his own
+physiognomy; every one would like to resemble some one else. Spaniards
+and Turks make endless excuses for being handsome and picturesque. The
+Andalusian apologizes to you for not wearing a coat and round hat. The
+Arnaout, whose costume is the most gorgeous and elegant that has ever
+been worn by the human form divine, sighs as he gazes at your overcoat,
+and consults with himself upon the advisability of shooting you to get
+possession of it, in the first mountain gorge where he may meet you
+alone or poorly attended. Civilization is the natural enemy of beauty.
+All its creations are ugly. Barbarism--or rather relative barbarism--has
+found the secret of form and color. Man living so near to Nature
+imitates her harmony, and finds the types of his garments and his
+utensils in his surroundings. Mathematics have not yet developed their
+straight lines, dry angles and painful aridity. Now-a-days, picturesque
+traditions are lost, the long pantaloon has invaded the universe;
+frightful fashion-plates circulate everywhere; now, I refuse to believe
+that man's taste has become perverted to such a degree that if he were
+shown costumes combining elegance with richness, he would not prefer
+them to hideous modern rags. Having made these judicious and profound
+reflections, I felt as if I had been enlightened from above, and the
+secret of my earthly mission revealed to me; I had come into the world
+to preach costume, and, as you see, I preach it by example. Reflecting
+that Turkey is the country most menaced by the overcoat and stove-pipe
+hat, I went to Constantinople to bring about a reaction in favor of the
+embroidered vest and the turban. My grave studies upon the subject, my
+fortune and my taste have enabled me to attain the _ne plus ultra_ of
+style.
+
+"I doubt whether a Sultan ever possessed so splendid or so
+characteristic a wardrobe. I discovered among the bazaars of the cities
+least infected by the modern spirit, some tailors with a profound
+contempt for Frank fashions, who, with their tremulous hands, performed
+marvels of cutting and embroidery. I will show you caftans braided in a
+miserable little out-of-the-way village of Asia Minor, by some poor
+devils whom you would not trust with your dog, which surpass, in
+intricacy of design, the purest arabesques of the Alhambra, and in
+color, the most gorgeous peacock tails of Eugene Delacroix or Narciso
+Ruy Diaz de la Pena, a great painter, who out of commiseration for the
+commonalty only makes use of a quarter of his name.
+
+"I am happy to say that my apostleship has not been without fruit. I
+have brought back to the dolman more than one young Osmanli about to rig
+himself out at Buisson's; I have saved more than one horse of the Nedji
+race from the insult of an English saddle; more than one tipsy Turk
+addicted to champagne has returned to opium at my suggestion. Some
+Georgians who were about to be admitted to the balls of the European
+embassies are indebted to me for being shut up closer than ever. I
+impressed upon these degenerate Orientals the disastrous results of such
+a breach of propriety. I persuaded the Sultan Abdul Medjid to give up
+the idea of introducing the guillotine into his empire. Without
+flattering myself, I think I have done a great deal of good, and if
+there were only a few more gay fellows like myself we should prevent
+people from making guys of themselves--And what are you doing, my dear
+Edgar?" "I am going to America, and I am waiting for the Ontario to get
+up steam," "That's a good idea! You can become a savage and resuscitate
+the last Mohican of Fenimore Cooper. I already see you, with a blue
+turtle on your breast, eagle's feathers in your scalp, and moccasins
+worked with porcupine quills. You will be very handsome; with your sad
+air you will look as if you were weeping over your dead race. If I had
+not been away for four years, I would accompany you, but I was in such a
+hurry to put my affairs in order, that I have returned to France by way
+of England, in order to avoid the quarantine. I will admit you to my
+religion; you shall become my disciple; I preserve barbaric costumes,
+you shall preserve savage costumes. It is not so handsome, but it is
+more characteristic. There were some Indians on our steamer; I studied
+them; they are the people to suit you. But, before your departure, we
+will indulge in an Eastern orgie in the purest style." "My dear Granson,
+I am not in a humor to take part in an orgie, even though it be an
+Eastern orgie; I am desperately sad." "Very well; I see that you are;
+some heart sorrow; you Occidentals are always in a state of torment
+about some woman; which would never occur if they were all shut up; it
+is dangerous to let such animals wander about. I am delighted that you
+are so sad and melancholy. I can now prove to you the superior efficacy
+of my exhilarating means. I found at Cairo, in the Teriaki Square,
+opposite the hospital for the insane--wasn't it a profoundly
+philosophical idea to establish in such a place dealers in
+happiness?--an old scamp, dry as a papyrus of the time of Amenoteph,
+shrivelled as the beards of the Pschent of the goddess Isis; this
+cabalistic druggist possessed the true receipt for the preparation of
+hashisch; besides, he seemed old enough to have gotten it direct from
+the Old Man of the Mountain, if he were not himself the Prince of
+Assassins who lived in the time of Saint Louis; this skeleton in a
+parchment case furnished me with a quantity of paradise, under the guise
+of green paste, in little Japanese cups done up in silver wire. I intend
+to initiate you into these hypercelestial delights. I shall give you a
+box of happiness, which will make you forget all the false coquettes in
+the world."
+
+Without listening to my repeated refusals, Granson begged me to call him
+henceforth Sidi-Mahmoud; had his room spread with Persian rugs, ottomans
+piled up in every direction, the walls cushioned to lean against, and
+perfumes scattered about; three or four dusky musicians placed
+themselves in a convenient recess with taraboucks, rebeks and guzlas--an
+Ethiopean, naked to the waist, served us the precious drug on a red
+lacquered waiter.
+
+To accommodate Granson I swallowed several spoonfuls of this greenish
+confection, which, at first, seemed to be flavored with honey and
+pistachio. I had dressed myself--for Granson is one of those obstinate
+idiots that one is compelled to yield to in order to get rid of--in an
+Anatolian costume of fabulous richness, my friend insisting that when
+one ascends to Paradise he should not be annoyed by the slope of his
+sleeves.
+
+In a few moments I felt a slight warmth in my stomach--my body threw off
+sparks and flared up like a bank-bill in the flame of a candle; I was
+subject to no law of nature; weight, bulk, opacity had entirely
+disappeared. I retained my form, but it became transparent; flexible,
+fluid objects passed through me without inconveniencing me in the least;
+I could enlarge or decrease myself to suit any place I wished to occupy.
+I could transport myself at will from one place to another. I was in an
+impossible world, lighted by a gleam of azure grotto, in the centre of a
+bouquet of fire-works formed of everchanging sheafs, luminous flowers
+with gold and silver foliage, and calices of rubies, sapphires and
+diamonds; fountains of melted moonbeams, throwing their spray over
+crystal vases, which sang with voices like a harmonica the arias of the
+greatest singers. A symphony of perfumes followed this first
+enchantment, which vanished in a shower of spangles at the end of a few
+seconds; the theme was a faint odor of iris and acacia bloom which
+pursued, avoided, crossed and embraced each other with delicious ease
+and grace. If anything in this world can give you an approximative idea
+of this exquisitely perfumed movement, it is the dance for the piccolos
+in the Almée of Felicien David.
+
+As the movement increased in sweetness and charm, the two perfumes took
+the shape of the flowers from which they emanated; two irises and two
+bunches of acacia bloomed in a marvellously transparent onyx vase; soon
+the irises scintillated like two blue stars, the acacia flowers
+dissolved into a golden stream, the onyx vase assumed a female shape,
+and I recognised the lovely face and graceful form of Louise Guérin, but
+idealized, passed to the state of Beatrice; I am not certain that there
+did not rise from her white shoulders a pair of angel's wings--she gazed
+so sadly and kindly at me that I felt my eyes fill with tears--she
+seemed to regret being in heaven; from the expression of her face one
+might have thought that she accused me, and at the same time entreated
+my forgiveness.
+
+I will not take you through the various windings of this marvellous
+open-eyed dream; the monotonous harmony of the tarabouck and the rebek
+faintly reached my ear, and served as rhythm to this wonderful poem,
+which will, henceforth, make Homer, Virgil, Ariosto and Tasso as
+wearisome to read as a table of logarithms. All my senses had changed
+places; I saw music and heard colors; I had new perceptions, as the
+denizens of a planet superior to ours must have; at will, my body was
+composed of a ray, a perfume or a sweet savor; I experienced the ecstasy
+of the angels fused in divine light, for the effect of hashisch bears no
+resemblance whatever to that of wine and alcohol, by the use of which
+the people of the North debase and stupefy themselves; its intoxication
+is purely intellectual.
+
+Little by little order was established in my brain. I began to observe
+objects around me.
+
+The candles had burned down to the socket; the musicians slept, tenderly
+embracing their instruments. The handsome negress lay at my feet. I had
+taken her for a cushion. A pale ray of light appeared on the horizon; it
+was three o'clock in the morning. All at once a smoke-stack, puffing
+forth black smoke, crossed the bar; it was the _Ontario_ leaving its
+moorings.
+
+A confusion of voices was heard in the next room; my mother, having in
+some way learnt of my projected exile, had broken through Granson's
+orders to admit no one, and was calling for me.
+
+I was rather mortified at being caught in such an absurd dress; but my
+mother observed nothing; she had but one thought, that I was about to
+leave her for ever. I do not remember what she said, such things cannot
+be written, the endearments she bestowed upon me when I was only five or
+six years old; finally she wept. I promised to stay and return to Paris.
+How can you refuse your mother anything when she weeps? Is she not the
+only woman whom we can never reproach?
+
+After all, as you have said, Paris is the wildest desert; there you are
+completely alone. Indifferent and unknown people may value sands and
+swamps.
+
+If my sorrow prove too tenacious, I shall ask my friend Arthur Granson
+for the address of the old Teriaki, and I shall send to Cairo for some
+boxes of forgetfulness. We will share them together if you wish.
+Farewell, dear Roger, I am yours mind and heart,
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+PARIS, July 30th 18--.
+
+O day of bliss unutterable! I have found her, it is she! As you have
+opened your heart to my sadness, madame, open it to my joy. Forget the
+unhappy wretch who, a few days ago, abandoned himself to his grief, who
+even yesterday bade an eternal farewell to hope. That unfortunate has
+ceased to exist; in his place appears a young being intoxicated with
+love, for whom life is full of delight and enchantment. How does it
+happen that my soul, which should soar on hymns of joy, is filled with
+gloomy forebodings? Is it because man is not made for great felicity, or
+that happiness is naturally sad, nearer akin to tears than to laughter,
+because it feels its fragility and instinctively dreads the approaching
+expiation?
+
+After having vainly searched for Mademoiselle de Chateaudun within the
+walls of Rouen, M. de Monbert decided, on receipt of some new
+information, to seek her among the old châteaux of Brittany. My sorrow,
+feeding upon itself, counselled me not to accompany him. The fact is
+that I could be of no earthly use in his search. Besides, I thought I
+perceived that my presence embarrassed him. To tell the truth, we were a
+constraint upon each other. Every sorrowful heart willingly believes
+itself the centre of the universe, and will not admit the existence,
+under heaven, of any other grief than its own. I let the Prince depart,
+and set out alone for Paris. One last hope remained; I persuaded myself
+that if Louise had not loved M. de Meilhan she would have left Richeport
+at the same time that I did.
+
+I got out at Pont de l'Arche, and prowled like a felon about the scenes
+where happiness had come to me.
+
+I wandered about for an hour, when I saw the letter-carrier coming to
+the post-office for the letters to be delivered at the neighboring
+châteaux. Paler and more tremulous than the silvery foliage of the
+willows on the river shore, I questioned him and learned that Madame
+Guérin was still at Richeport. I went away with death in my heart; in
+the evening I reach Paris. Resolved to see no one in that city, and only
+intending to pass a few days in solitude and silence, I sought no other
+abode than the little room which I had occupied in less fortunate but
+happier times. I wished to resume my old manner of living; but I had no
+taste for anything. When one goes in pursuit of happiness, the way is
+smiling and alluring, hope brightens the horizon; when we have clutched
+it and then let it escape, everything becomes gloomy and disenchanted;
+for it is a traveller whom we do not meet twice upon our road. I tried
+to study, which only increased my weariness. What was the use of
+knowledge and wisdom? Life was a closed book to me. I tried the poets,
+who added to my sufferings, by translating them into their passionate
+language. Thus, reason is baffled by the graceful apparition of a lovely
+blonde, who glided across my existence like a gossamer over a clear sky,
+and banished repose for ever from my heart! My eyes had scarcely rested
+upon the angle of my dreams ere she took flight, leaving on my brow the
+shadow of her wings! She was only a child, and that child had passed
+over my destiny like a tempest! She rested for a moment in my life, like
+a bird upon a branch, and my life was broken! In fact I lost all control
+over myself. Young, free and rich, I was at a loss to know what to do.
+What was to become of me? Turn where I would, I still saw nothing around
+me but solitude and despair. During the day I mingled with the crowd and
+wandered about the streets like a lost soul; returning at night
+overcome, but not conquered by fatigue. Burning sleeplessness besieged
+my pillow, and the little light no longer shone to comfort and encourage
+me. I no longer heard, as before, a caressing voice speaking to me
+through the trees of the garden. "Courage, friend! I watch and suffer
+with thee." Finally, one night I saw the star peep forth and shine.
+Although I had no heart for such fancies, still I felt young and joyous
+again, on seeing it. As before, I gazed at it a long time. Was it the
+same, that, for two years, I had seen burn and go out regularly at the
+same hour? It might be doubted; but I did not doubt it for a moment,
+because I took pleasure in believing it. I felt less isolated and gained
+confidence, now that my star had not deserted me. I called it my martyr
+when I spoke to it: "Whence comest thou? Hast thou too suffered? Hast
+thou mourned my absence a little?" And, as before, I thought it answered
+me in the silence of the night. Towards morning I slept, and in a dream,
+I saw, as through a glass, Louise watching and working in a room as poor
+as mine, by the light of the well-beloved ray. She looked pale and sad,
+and from time to time stopped her work to gaze at the gleam of my lamp.
+When I awoke, it was broad day; and I went out to kill time.
+
+On the boulevard I met an old friend of my father's; he was refined,
+cultivated and affectionate. He had come from our mountains, to which he
+was already anxious to return, for in their valleys he had buried
+himself. My dejected air and sorrowful countenance struck him. He gained
+my confidence, and immediately guessed at my complaint. "What are you
+doing here?" he asked; "it is an unwholesome place for grief. Return to
+our mountains. Your native air will do you good. Come with me; I promise
+you that your unhappiness will not hold out against the perfume of broom
+and heather." Then he spoke with tender earnestness of my duties. He did
+not conceal from me the obligations my fortune and the position left me
+by my father, laid me under to the land where I was born; I had
+neglected it too long, and the time had now come when I ought to occupy
+myself seriously with its needs and interests. In short, he made me
+blush for my useless days, and led me, gently and firmly, back to
+reality. At night-fall I returned to my little chamber, not consoled but
+stronger, and decided to set out on the morrow for the banks of the
+Creuse. I did not expect to be cured, but it pleased me to mingle the
+thought of Louise with the benefits that I could bestow, and to bring
+down blessings upon the name which I had longed to offer her.
+
+I immediately remarked on entering, that my little beacon shone with
+unaccustomed brilliancy. It was no longer a thread of light gleaming
+timidly through the foliage, but a whole window brightly illuminated,
+and standing out against the surrounding darkness. Investigating the
+cause of this phenomenon, I discovered that, during the day, the trees
+had been felled in the garden, and peering out into the gloom, I
+perceived, stretched along the ground, the trunk of the pine which, for
+two years, had hid from me the room where burned the fraternal light.
+Before departing, I should at least catch a glimpse of the mysterious
+being, who, probably unconsciously, had occupied so many of my restless
+thoughts. I could not control a sad smile at the thought of the
+disenchantment that awaited me on the morrow. I passed in review the
+faces which were likely to appear at that window, and as the absurd is
+mixed with almost every situation in life, I declare that this
+bewildering question occurred to me: "Suppose it should be Lady Penock?"
+
+I slept little, and arose at day-break. I was restless without daring to
+acknowledge to myself the cause. It would have mortified me to have to
+confess that there was room beside my grief for a childish curiosity, a
+poetical fancy. What is man's heart made of? He bemoans himself, wraps a
+cere-cloth around him and prepares to die, and a flitting bird or a
+shining light suffices to divert him. I watched the sun redden the
+house-tops. Paris still slept; no sound broke the stillness of the
+slumbering city, but the distant roll of the early carts over the
+stones. I looked long at the dear garret, which I saw for the first time
+in the eye of day. The window had neither shutter nor blind, but a
+double rose-colored curtain hung before it, mingling its tint with that
+of the rising sun. That window, with neither plants nor running vines to
+ornament it, had an air of refinement that charmed me. The house itself
+looked honest. I wrote several letters to shorten the slow hours which
+wearied my patience. Every shutter that opened startled me, and sent the
+blood quickly back to my heart. My reason revolted against suck
+childishness; but in spite of it, something within me refused to laugh
+at my folly.
+
+After some hours, I caught a glimpse of a hand furtively drawing aside
+the rose-colored curtains. That timid hand could only belong to a woman;
+a man would have drawn them back unceremoniously. She must, likewise, be
+a young woman; the shade of the curtains indicated it. Evidently, only a
+young woman would put pink curtains before a garret-window. Whereupon I
+recalled to mind the little room where I had bade adieu to Louise before
+leaving Richeport. I lived over again the scene in that poetic nook;
+again I saw Louise as she appeared to me at that last interview, pale,
+agitated, shedding silent tears which she did not attempt to conceal.
+
+At this remembrance my grief burst all bounds, and spent itself in
+imprecations against Edgar and against myself. I sat a long time, with
+my face buried in my hands, in mournful contemplation of an invisible
+image. Ah! unhappy man, I exclaimed, in my despair, why did you leave
+her? God offered you happiness and you refused it! She stood there,
+before you, trembling, desperate, her eyes bathed in tears, awaiting but
+one word to sink in your arms, and that word you refused to utter,
+cowardly fleeing from her! It is now your turn to weep, unfortunate
+wretch! Your life, which has but begun, is now ended, and you will not
+even have the supreme consolation of melancholy regrets, for the sting
+of remorse will for ever remain in your wound; you will be pursued to
+your dying day by the phantom of a felicity which you would not seize!
+
+When I raised my head, the garret-window had noiselessly opened, and
+there, standing motionless in a flood of sunshine, her golden hair
+lifted gently by the morning breeze, was Louise gazing at me.
+
+Madame, try to imagine what I felt; as for me, I shall never be able to
+give it expression. I tried to speak, and my voice died away on my lips;
+I wished to stretch out my arms towards the celestial vision, they
+seemed to be made of stone and glued to my side; I wished to rush to
+her, my feet were nailed to the floor. However, she still stood there
+smiling at me. Finally, after a desperate effort, I succeeded in
+breaking the charm which bound me, and rushed from my room wild with
+delight, mad with happiness. I was mad, that's the word. Holy madness!
+cold reason should humble itself in the dust before thee! As quick as
+thought, by some magic, I found myself before Louise's door. I had
+recognised the house so long sought for before. I entered without a
+question, guided alone by the perfume that ascended from the sanctuary;
+I took Louise's hands in mine, and we stood gazing silently at each
+other in an ecstasy of happiness fatally lost and miraculously
+recovered; the ecstasy of two lovers, who, separated by a shipwreck,
+believing each other dead, meet, radiant with love and life, upon the
+same happy shore.
+
+"Why, it was you!" she said at last, pointing to my room with a charming
+gesture.
+
+"Why, it was you!" I exclaimed in my turn, eagerly glancing at a little
+brass lamp which I had observed on a table covered with screens, boxes
+of colors and porcelain palettes.
+
+"You were the little light!"
+
+"You were my evening star!"
+
+And we both began to recite the poem of those two years of our lives,
+and we found that we told the same story. Louise began my sentences and
+I finished hers. In disclosing our heart secrets and the mysterious
+sympathy that had existed between us for two years, we interrupted each
+other with expressions of astonishment and admiration. We paused time
+and time again to gaze at each other and press each other's hands, as if
+to assure ourselves that we were awake and it was not all a dream. And
+every moment this gay and charming refrain broke in upon our ecstasy:
+
+"So you were the brother and friend of my poverty!"
+
+"So you were the sister and companion of my solitude!"
+
+We finally approached in our recollections, through many windings, our
+meeting upon the banks of the Seine, under the shades of Richeport.
+
+"What seems sad to me," she said with touching grace, "is that after
+having loved me without knowing me, you should have left me as soon as
+you did know me. You only worshipped your idle fancies, and, had I loved
+you then," she continued, "I should have been forced to be jealous of
+this little lamp."
+
+I told her what inexorable necessity compelled me to leave Richeport and
+her. Louise listened with a pensive and charming air; but when I came to
+speak of Edgar's love, she burst out laughing and began to relate, in
+the gayest manner, some story or other about Turks, which I failed to
+understand.
+
+"M. de Meilhan loves you, does he not?" I asked finally, with a vague
+feeling of uneasiness.
+
+"Yes, yes," she cried, "he loves me to--madness!"
+
+"He loves you, since he is jealous."
+
+"Yes, yes," she cried again, "jealous as a--Mussulman." and then she
+began to laugh again.
+
+"Why," I again asked, "if you did not love him, did you stay at
+Richeport two or three days after I left?"
+
+"Because I expected you to return," she replied, laying aside her
+childish gayety and becoming grave and serious.
+
+I told her of my love. I was sincere, and therefore should have been
+eloquent. I saw her eyes fill with tears, which were not this time tears
+of sorrow. I unfolded to her my whole life; all that I had hoped for,
+longed for, suffered down to the very hour when she appeared to me as
+the enchanting realization of my youthful dreams.
+
+"You ask me," she said, "to share your destiny, and you do not know who
+I am, whence I come, or whither I go."
+
+"You mistake, I know you," I cried; "you are as noble as you are
+beautiful; you come from heaven, and you will return to it. Bear me with
+you on your wings."
+
+"Sir, all that is very vague," she answered, smilingly.
+
+"Listen," said I. "It is true that I do not know who you are; but I
+know, I feel that falsehood has never profaned those lips, nor perverted
+the brightness of those eyes. Here is my hand; it is the hand of a
+gentleman. Take it without fear or hesitation, that is all I ask."
+
+"M. de Villiers, it is well," she said placing her little hand in mine.
+"And now," she added, "do you wish to know my life?"
+
+"No," I replied, "you can tell me of it when you have given it to me."
+
+"But--"
+
+"I have seen you," said I; "you can tell me nothing. I feel that there
+is a mystery in your existence, but I also feel that that mystery is
+honorable, that you could only conceal a treasure."
+
+At these words an indefinable smile played around her lips.
+
+"At least," she cried, "you know certainly that I am poor?"
+
+"Yes," I answered, "but you have shown yourself worthy of fortune, and
+I, on my part, hope that I have proved myself not altogether unworthy of
+poverty."
+
+The day glided imperceptibly by, enlivened with tender communings. I
+examined in all its details the room which my thoughts had so often
+visited. It required considerable self-control to repress the
+inclination to carry to my lips the little lamp which had brought me
+more delight than Aladdin's ever could have done. I spoke of you,
+madame, mingling your image with my happiness in order to complete it. I
+told Louise how you would love her, that she would love you too; she
+replied that she loved you already. At evening we parted, and our joyous
+lamps burned throughout the night.
+
+In the midst of my bliss, I do not forget, madame, the interests that
+are dear to you. Have you written to Mademoiselle de Chateaudun as I
+begged you to do? Have you written with firmness? Have you told your
+young friend that her peace and future are at stake? Have you pointed
+out to her the storm ready to burst over her head? When I left M. de
+Monbert he was gloomy and irritated. Let Mademoiselle Chateaudun take
+care!
+
+Accept the expression of my respectful homage.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+
+RENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+Paris, Aug. 5th 18--.
+
+All of your letters have reached me at once. I received two yesterday
+and one this morning, the latter being written first and dated at Berne.
+Ah! if it had reached me in due time, what distress I would have been
+spared! What! he wrote you, "I love her," and said nothing to me! When
+he left me you know how unhappy he was, and I, who was made so miserable
+by his departure, I thought he was indifferent!
+
+When I told you that I was about to sacrifice myself to console Madame
+de Meilhan, you must have thought me insane; I can see by your letter
+from Geneva, which I received yesterday, that you were dreadfully
+alarmed about me. Cursed journey! Cursed mail! A letter lost might have
+destroyed my happiness for ever! This letter was delayed on the road
+several days, and, during these several days, I suffered more torture
+than I ever felt during the most painful moments of my life. These
+useless sorrows, that I might so easily have avoided, render me
+incredulous and trembling before this future of promised happiness. I
+have suffered so much that joy itself finds me fearful; and then this
+happiness is so great that it is natural to receive it with sadness and
+doubt.
+
+He told you of his delirious joy, on recognising me at the window; but
+he did not tell you, he could not tell you, of my uneasiness, of my
+dreadful suspicions, my despair when I saw him in this garret.
+
+Our situations were not the same; what astonished and delighted him,
+also astonished and delighted me, but at the same time filled me with
+alarm. He believed me to be poor, discovered me in an attic; it was
+nothing to be surprised at; the only wonderful thing about it was that
+my garret should be immediately opposite the house where he lived.... I
+knew he was wealthy; I knew he was the Count de Villiers; I knew he was
+of an old and noble family; I knew from his conversation that he had
+travelled over Italy in a manner suitable to his rank; I found him in
+Richeport, elegant and generous; he possesses great simplicity of
+manner, it is true, but it is the lordly simplicity of a great man....
+In fact, everything I knew about him convinces me that his proper place
+was not a garret, and that if I saw him there, I did not see him in his
+own house.
+
+Remember, Valentine, that for two months I have lived upon deceptions; I
+have been disillusioned; I have inspired the most varied and excessive
+griefs; I have studied the most picturesque consolations; I have seen
+myself lamented at the Odeon, by one lover in a box with painted women,
+... and at Havre by another in a tavern with a slave.... I might now see
+myself lamented at Paris by a third in a garret with a grisette! Oh!
+torture! in this one instant of dread, all the arrows of jealousy
+rankled in my heart. Oh! I could not be indignant this time, I could not
+complain, I could only die.... And I think that if I had not seen the
+pure joy beaming in his eyes, lighting up his noble countenance; if I
+had not instantly divined, comprehended everything, I believe I would
+have dashed myself from the window to escape the strange agony that made
+my heart cold and my brain dizzy--agony that I could not and would not
+endure. But he looked too happy to be culpable; he made a sign, and I
+saw that he was coming over to see me. I waited for him--and in what a
+state! My hair was disarranged, and I called Blanchard to assist me in
+brushing it; my voice was so weak she came running to me frightened,
+thinking me ill ... a thousand confused thoughts rushed through my
+brain; one thing was clear: I had found him again, I was about to see
+him!
+
+When I was dressed--oh! that morning little did I think I would need a
+becoming dress, ... I sat on the sofa in my poor little parlor, and
+there, pale with emotion, scarcely daring to breathe, I listened with
+burning impatience to the different noises about the house. In a few
+moments I heard a knock, the door open, a voice exclaim, "You, Monsieur
+le Comte!" He did not wait to be announced, but came in at once to the
+parlor where I was. He was so joyous at finding me, and I so delighted
+at seeing him, that for the first blissful moments of our meeting
+neither of us thought explanations necessary; his joy proved that he was
+free to love me, and my manner showed that I might be everything to him.
+When he found his voice, he said to me: "What! were you this cherished
+star that I have loved for two years?"
+
+Then I remembered my momentary fears, and said: "What! were you the
+mysterious beacon? Why were you living there? Why did the Comte de
+Villiers dwell in a garret?"
+
+Then, dear Valentine, he told me his noble history; he confessed, rather
+unwillingly, that he had been poor like myself; very poor, because he
+had given all his fortune to save the honor of a friend, M. Frederick de
+B---- Oh! how I wept, while listening to this touching story, so full of
+sublime simplicity, generous carelessness and self-sacrifice! This would
+have made me adore him if I had not already madly loved him. While he
+was telling me, I was thinking of the unfortunate Frederick's wife, of
+her anxiety, of the torture she suffered, as a wife and a mother, when
+she believed her husband lost and her children ruined; of her
+astonishment and wild joy when she saw them all saved; of her deep,
+eternal gratitude! and I had but one thought, I said to myself: "How I
+would like to talk with this woman of Raymond!"
+
+I wished in turn to relate my own history; he refused to listen to me,
+and I did not insist. I wished to be generous, and let him for some time
+longer believe me to be poor and miserable. He was so happy at the idea
+of enriching and ennobling me, that I had not the courage to disenchant
+him.
+
+However, yesterday, I was obliged to tell him everything; in his
+impatience to hasten our marriage he had devoted the morning to the
+drawing up of his papers, contracts and settlements; for two days he had
+been tormenting me for my family papers in order to arrange them, and to
+find the register of my birth, which was indispensable when he appeared
+before the mayor. I had always put off giving it to him, but yesterday
+he entreated me so earnestly, that I was compelled to assent. In order
+to prepare him for the shock, I told him my papers were in my secretary,
+and that if he would come into my room he could see them. At the sight
+of the grand family pictures covering the walls of my retreat, he stood
+aghast; then he examined them with uneasiness. Some of the portraits
+bore the names and titles of the illustrious persons they represented.
+Upon reading the name, Victor Louis de Chateaudun, Marechal de France,
+he stopped motionless and looked at me with a strange air; then he read,
+beneath the portrait of a beautiful woman, the following inscription:
+"Marie Felicité Diane de Chateaudun, Duchesse de Montignan," and turning
+quickly towards me, with a face deadly pale, he exclaimed: "Louise?"
+"No, not Louise, but Irene!" I replied; and my voice rang with ancestral
+pride when I thus appeared before him in my true character.
+
+For a moment he was silent, and a bitter, sad expression came over his
+countenance, that frightened me. Then I thought, it is nothing but envy;
+it is hard for a man who knows he is generous to be outdone in
+generosity. It is disappointing, when he thinks he is bestowing
+everything, to find he is about to receive millions; it is cruel, when
+he dreams of making a sacrifice like the hero of a novel, to find
+himself constrained to destroy all the romance by conducting the affair
+on a business basis. But Raymond was more than sad, and his almost
+severe demeanor alarmed my love, as well as my dignity ... he crossed to
+the other side of the room and sat down. I followed him, trembling with
+agitation, and my eyes filled with tears.
+
+"You no longer love me," I said.
+
+"I dare not love the fiancée of my friend."
+
+"Don't mention M. de Monbert, nor your scruples, he would not understand
+them."
+
+"But he told you he loved you, Mlle., why did you leave him so
+abruptly?"
+
+"I distrusted this love and wished to test it."
+
+"What is the result of the test?"
+
+"He does not love me, and I despise him."
+
+"He does love you, and you ought to respect him."
+
+Then, in order to avoid painful explanations and self-justification, I
+handed him a long letter I had written to my cousin, in which I related,
+without telling her of my disguise, that I had seen the Prince de
+Monbert at the theatre, described the people whom he was with, and my
+disgust at his conduct. I begged her to read this letter to the Prince
+himself, who is with her now--he has followed her to one of her estates
+in Brittany; he would see from the decided tone of my letter, that my
+resolution was taken, that I did not love him, and that the best thing
+he could do was to forget me.
+
+I had written this letter yesterday, under your inspiration, and to ward
+off the imaginary dangers you feared. Rely upon it, my dear Valentine,
+M. de Monbert knows that he has acted culpably towards me; he might,
+perhaps, endeavor to prevent my marriage, but when he knows I am no
+longer free, he will be compelled to resign himself to my loss; don't be
+alarmed, I know of two beautiful creatures whom he will allow to console
+him. A man really unhappy would not have confided the story of his
+disdained love to all his friends, valets and the detectives; he would
+not hand over to idle gossip a dear and sacred name; a man who has no
+respect for his love, does not love seriously; he deserves neither
+regard nor pity. I will write to him myself to-morrow, if you desire it;
+but as to a quarrel, what does he claim? I have never given him any
+rights; if he threatens to provoke my husband to a duel, I have only to
+say: "Take for your seconds Messrs. Ernest and George de S., who were
+intoxicated with you at the Odeon," and he will blush with shame, and
+instantly recognise how odious and ridiculous is his anger.
+
+I left Raymond alone in my room reading this letter, and I returned to
+the saloon to weep bitterly. I could not bear to see him displeased with
+me; I knew he would accuse me of being trifling and capricious--the idea
+of having offended him pierced my heart with anguish. I know not if the
+letter justified me in his eyes, whether he thought it honest and
+dignified, but as soon as he had finished reading it he called me:
+"Irene," he said, and I trembled with sweet emotion on hearing him, for
+the first time, utter my real name; I returned to the next room, he took
+my hand and continued: "Pardon me for believing, for a moment, that you
+were capricious and trifling, and I forgive you for having made me act
+an odious part towards one of my friends."
+
+Then he told me in a tender voice that he understood my conduct, and
+that it was right; that when one is not sure of loving her intended, or
+of being loved by him, she has a right to test him, and that it was only
+honest and just. Then he smilingly asked me if I did not wish to try
+him, and leave him a month or two to see if I was beloved by him.
+
+"Oh! no," I cried, "I believe in you. I do not wish to leave you. Oh!
+how can true lovers live apart from each other? How can they be
+separated for a single day?"
+
+I recalled what you told me when I abandoned M. de Monbert, and
+acknowledged that you were right when you said: "Genuine love is
+confiding, it shuns doubt because it cannot endure it."
+
+This sad impression that he felt upon learning that Louise Guérin was
+Irene de Chateaudun, was the only cloud that passed over our happiness.
+Soon joy returned to us lively and pure--and we spoke of you tenderly;
+he was the poor wounded man that gave you so much uneasiness; he was the
+model husband you had chosen for me, and whom I refused with such proud
+scorn!
+
+Ah! my good Valentine, how I thank you for having nursed him as a
+sister; how noble and charming you were to him; I would like to reward
+you by having you here to witness our happiness. And you must thank the
+esteemed M. de Braimes for me, and my beautiful Irene, who taught him to
+love my name, and brought him a bouquet every morning; and your handsome
+Henri, the golden-haired angel, who brought him his little doves in your
+work-basket to take care of, while he studied his lessons. Embrace for
+me these dear children he caressed, who cheered his hours of suffering,
+whom I so love for his sake and yours.
+
+Will you not let me show my appreciation of my little goddaughter by
+rendering her independent of future accidents, enabling her without
+imprudence to marry for love?
+
+I am so happy in loving that I can imagine it to be the only source of
+joy to others; yet this happiness is so great that I find myself asking
+if my heart is equal to its blessings; if my poor reason, wearied by so
+many trials, will have sufficient strength to support these violent
+emotions; if happiness has not, like misery, a madness. I endeavor when
+alone to calm my excited mind; I sit down and try to quietly think over
+my past life with that inflexibility of judgment, that analyzing
+pedantry, of which you have so often accused me.
+
+You remember, Valentine, more than once you have told me you saw in me
+two persons, a romantic young girl and a disenchanted old
+philosopher.... Ah! well, to-day the romantic young girl has reached the
+most thrilling chapter of her life; she feels her weak head whirl at the
+prospect of such intoxicating bliss, and she appeals to the old
+philosopher for assistance. She tells him how this bliss frightens her;
+she begs him to reassure her about this beautiful future opening before
+her, by proving to her that it is natural and logical; that it is the
+result of her past life, and finally that however great it may be,
+however extraordinary it may seem, it is possible, it is lasting,
+because it is bought at the price of humiliation, of sorrow, of trials!
+
+Yes, I confess it, these happy events appear to be so strange, so
+impossible, that I try to explain them, to calmly analyze them and
+believe in their reality.
+
+I recall one by one all my impressions of the last four years, and exert
+my mind to discover in the strangeness, in the fatality, in the
+excessive injustice of my past misfortunes, a natural explanation for
+extraordinary and incredible events of the present. The reverses
+themselves were romantic and improbable, therefore the reparations and
+consolations should in their turn be equally romantic. Is it an ordinary
+thing for a young girl reared like myself in Parisian luxury, belonging
+to an illustrious family, to be reduced to the sternest poverty, and
+through family pride and dignity to conceal her name? Is not such
+dignity, assailed by fate, destined sooner or later to vindicate itself?
+
+You see that through myself I would have been restored to my rank. M. de
+Meilhan wished to marry me without fortune or name.... Yesterday, M. de
+Villiers knew not who I was; my uncle's inheritance has therefore been
+of no assistance to me. I believe that native dignity will always
+imperceptibly assert itself. I believe in the logic of events; order has
+imperious laws; it is useless to throw statues to the ground, the time
+always comes when they are restored to their pedestals. From my rank I
+fell unjustly, unhappily. I must be restored to it justly. Every glaring
+injustice has a natural consequent, a brilliant reparation, I have
+suffered extraordinary misfortune; I have a right to realize ideal
+happiness. At twenty, I lost in one year my noble and too generous
+father and my poor mother; it is only just that I should have a lover to
+replace these lost ones.
+
+As to these violent passions which you pretend I have inspired, but
+which are by no means serious, I examine them calmly and find in the
+analysis an explanation of many of the misfortunes, many of the mistakes
+of poor women, who are accused of inconstancy and perfidy, and who are,
+on the contrary, only culpable through innocence and honest faith. They
+believe they love, and engage themselves, and then, once engaged, they
+discover that they are not in love. Genuine love is composed of two
+sentiments; we experience one of these when we believe we love; we are
+uneasy, agitated by an imperfect sentiment that seeks completion; we
+struggle in its feeble ties; we are neither bound nor free; not happy,
+nor at liberty to seek happiness at another source.... The old
+philosopher speaks--hear him.
+
+There are two kinds of love, social love and natural love; voluntary
+love and involuntary love. An accomplished and deserving young man loves
+a woman; he loves her, and deserves to be loved in return; she wishes to
+love him, and when alone thinks of him; if his name is mentioned, she
+blushes; if any one says in her presence, "Madame B. used to be in love
+with him," she is disturbed, agitated. These symptoms are certain proofs
+of the state of her heart, and she says to herself, "I love Adolphe,"
+just as I said, "I love Roger." ... But the voice of this man does not
+move her to tears; his fiery glances do not make her turn pale or blush;
+her hand does not tremble in the presence of his.... She only feels for
+him social love; there exists between them a harmony of ideas and
+education, but no sympathy of nature.
+
+The other love is more dangerous, especially for married women, who
+mistake remorse for that honest repugnance necessarily inspired in every
+woman of refined mind and romantic imagination.
+
+I frankly confess that if I had been married, if I had no longer control
+of my actions, I should have thought I was in love with Edgar.... I
+should have mistaken for an odious and culpable passion, the fearful
+trouble, insupportable uneasiness that his love caused me to feel. But
+my vigilant reason, my implacable good faith watched over my heart; they
+said: "Shun Roger;" they said: "Fear Edgar...." If I had married Roger,
+woe to me! Conventional love, leaving my heart all its dreams, would
+have embittered my life.... But if, more foolish still, I had married
+Edgar, woe, woe to me! because one does not sacrifice with impunity to
+an incomplete love all of one's theories, habits and even weaknesses and
+early prejudices.
+
+What enlightened me quickly upon the unreality of this love was the
+liberty of my position. Why being free should I fear a legitimate love?
+Strange mystery! wonderful instinct! With Roger, I sadly said to myself:
+"I love him, but it is not with love." ... With Edgar, I said in fright:
+"This is love, yet I do not love him." And then when Raymond appeared,
+my heart, my reason, my faith at the first glance recognised him, and
+without hesitation, almost without prudence, I cried out, "It is he....
+I love him." ... Now this is what I call real love, ideal love, harmony
+of ideas and sympathy of hearts.
+
+Oh! it does me good to be a little pedantic; I am so excited, it calms
+me; I am not so afraid of going crazy when I adopt the sententious
+manner. Ah! when I can laugh I am happy. Anything that for a moment
+checks my wild imagination, reassures me.
+
+This morning we laughed like two children! You will laugh too; when I
+write one name it will set you off; he said to me, "I must go to my
+coachmaker's and see if my travelling carriage needs any repairs." I
+said, "I have a new one; I will send for it, and let you see it." In an
+hour my carriage was brought into the court-yard. With peals of laughter
+he recognised Lady Penock's carriage. "Lady Penock! What! do you know
+Lady Penock? Are you the audacious young lover who pursued her until she
+was compelled to sell me her carriage." "Yes, I was the man." Ah! how
+gay we were; he was the hero of Lady Penock, his was the little light,
+he was the wounded man, he was the husband selected for me! Ah! it all
+makes me dizzy; and we shall set off to travel in this carriage.
+
+Ah! Lady Penock, you must pardon him.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Porte Restante (Rouen).
+
+PARIS, Aug. 11th 18--.
+
+Here I am in Paris, gloomy, with nothing to do, not knowing how to fill
+up the void in my life, discontented with myself, ridiculous in my own
+eyes, alike in my love and in my despair. I have never felt so sad, so
+wretched, so cast-down. My days and nights are passed in endless
+self-accusation: one by one I revise every word and action relating to
+Louise Guérin. I compose superb sentences which I had forgotten to
+pronounce, the effect of which would have been irresistible. I tell
+myself: "On such a day, you were guilty of a stupid timidity, which
+would have made even a college-boy laugh." It was the moment for daring.
+Louise, unseen, threw you a look which you were too stupid to
+understand. The evening that Madame Taverneau was at Rouen, you allowed
+yourself to be intimidated like a fool, by a few grand airs, an
+affectation of virtue over which the least persistence would have
+triumphed. Your delicacy ruined you. A little roughness doesn't hurt
+sometimes, especially with prudes. You have not profited by a single one
+of your advantages; you let every opportunity pass. In short, I am like
+a general who has lost a battle, and who, having retired to his tent, in
+the midst of a field strewn with the dead and the dying marks out, too
+late, a strategic plan which would have infallibly gained him the
+victory!
+
+What a pitiless monster an unsatiated desire is, tearing your heart with
+its sharp claws and piercing beak for want of other prey! The punishment
+of Prometheus pales beside it, for the arrows of Hercules cannot reach
+this unseen vulture! This is my first unsuccessful love; the first
+falcon that has returned to me without bringing the dove in his talons;
+I am devoured by an inexpressible rage; I pace my room like a wild
+beast, uttering inarticulate cries; I do not know whether I love or
+hate Louise the most, but I should take infinite delight in strangling
+her with her blonde tresses and trampling her, affrighted and suppliant,
+under my feet.
+
+My good Roger, I weary you with my lamentations; but whom can we weary,
+if not our friends? When will you return to Paris? Soon, I hope, since
+you have ceased writing to me.
+
+I have gone back to the lady with the turban, passing nearly every
+evening in the catafalque, which she calls her drawing-room. This
+lugubrious habitation suits my melancholy. She finds me more gloomy,
+more Giaour-like, more Lara-like than usual; I am her hero, her god! or
+rather her demon, for she has now taken to the sorceries of the satanic
+school! I assure you that she annoys me inexpressibly, and yet I feel a
+sort of pleasure in being admired by her. It consoles my vanity for
+Louise's disdain, but not my heart. Alas! my poor heart, which still
+bleeds and suffers. I caught a glimpse of Paradise through a half-open
+door. The door is shut, and I weep upon the threshold!
+
+If Louise were dead, I might be calm; but she exists, and not for
+me--that thought makes life insupportable. I can think of nothing else,
+and I scarcely know whether the words I write to you make any sense. I
+leave my letter unfinished. I will finish it this evening if I can
+succeed in diverting myself, for a moment, from this despair which
+possesses me.
+
+Roger, something incredible has happened, overturning every calculation,
+every prevision. I am stupefied, benumbed--I was at the Marquise's,
+where it was darker than usual. One solitary lamp flickered in a corner,
+dozing under a huge shade. A fat gentleman, buried in an easy-chair,
+drowsily retailed the news of the day.
+
+I was not listening to him; I was thinking of Louise's little white
+couch, from which I had once lifted the snowy curtain; with that
+sorrowful intensity, those poignant regrets which torture rejected
+lovers. Suddenly a familiar name struck my ear--the name of Irene de
+Chateaudun. I became attentive--"She is to be married to-morrow,"
+continued the well-posted gentleman, "to--wait a minute, I get confused
+about names and dates; with that exception, my memory is excellent--a
+young man, Gaston, Raymond, I am not certain which, but his first name
+ends in _on_ I am sure."
+
+I eagerly questioned the fat man; he knew nothing more; hastily
+returning to my rooms I sent Joseph out to obtain further information.
+
+My servant, who is quick and intelligent, and merits a master more given
+to intrigue and gallantry than I, went to the twelve mayors' offices. He
+brought me a list of all the banns that had been published.
+
+The news was true; Irene de Chateaudun marries Raymond. What does that
+signify? Irene your fiancée, Raymond our friend! What comedy of errors
+is being played here? This, then, was the motive of these flights, these
+disappearances. They were laughing at you. It seems to me rather an
+audacious proceeding. How does it happen that Raymond, who knew of your
+projected marriage with Mademoiselle de Chateaudun, should have stepped
+in your shoes? This comes of deeds of prowess à la Don Quixote, and
+rescues of old Englishwomen.
+
+Hasten, my friend, by railroad, post-horses, in the stirrup, on
+hippogriff's wing; what am I talking about? You will scarcely receive my
+letter ere the marriage has taken place. But I will keep watch for you.
+I will acquit myself of your revenge, and Mademoiselle Irene de
+Chateaudun shall not become Madame Raymond de Villiers until I have
+whispered that in her ear which will make her paler than her marriage
+veil. As to Raymond, I am not astonished at what he has done; I felt
+towards him at Richeport a hate which never deceives me and which I
+always feel towards cowards and hypocrites; he talked too much of virtue
+not to be a scoundrel. I would I had the power to raze out from my life
+the time that I loved him. It is impossible to oppose this revolting
+marriage. How is it possible that Irene de Chateaudun, who was to enjoy
+the honor of being your wife, whom you had represented to me as a woman
+of high intelligence and lofty culture, could have allowed herself to
+be impressed, after having known you, by the jeremiads of this
+sentimental sniveller? Since Eve, women have disliked all that is noble,
+frank and loyal; to fall is an unconquerable necessity of their nature;
+they have always preferred, to the voice of an honorable man, the
+perfidious whisper of the evil spirit, which shows its painted face
+among the leaves and wraps its slimy coils around the fatal tree.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isère).
+
+Paris, Aug. 11th 18--.
+
+This is probably the last letter that I shall ever write to you. Do not
+pity me, my fate is more worthy of envy than of pity. I never knew, I
+never dreamed of anything more beautiful. It has been said time and
+again that real life is tame, spiritless and disenchanted by the side of
+the fictions of the poets. What a mistake! There is a more wonderful
+inventor than any rhapsodist, and that inventor is called reality. It
+wears the magic ring, and imagination is but a poor magician compared
+with it. Madame, do not write to Mademoiselle de Chateaudun. Since you
+have not done so my letters must necessarily have miscarried. Blessed be
+the happy chance which prevented you from following my advice! What did
+I say to you? I was a fool. Be careful not to alarm my darling. The man
+has lived long enough upon whom she has bestowed her love for one single
+day. Do not write, it is too late; but admire the decrees of fate. The
+diamond that I had sought with the Prince de Monbert, I have unwittingly
+found; I assisted in searching for it, while it was hid, unknown to me,
+in my heart. Louise is Irene. Madame Guérin is Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun. If you could have seen her delight in revealing her
+identity! I saw her joyful and triumphant as if her love were not the
+most precious gift she could bestow. When she proclaimed herself, I felt
+an icy chill pass through me; but I thanked God for the bliss which I
+shall not survive, so great that death must follow after.
+
+"Do you not love me well enough," she said, "to pardon me my fortune?"
+
+How was she to know that in revealing herself she had signed my
+death-warrant?
+
+She spoke, laughingly, of M. de Monbert, as she had done of Edgar; to
+excuse herself she related a story of disenchantment which you already
+know, madame. It would have been honorable in me, at this juncture, to
+have undeceived Irene and enlightened her upon the Prince's passion. I
+did so, but feebly. When happiness is offered us loaded with ball, we
+have no longer the right to be generous.
+
+We are to be married privately to-morrow, without noise or display. A
+plain-looking carriage will wait for us on the Place de la Madeleine;
+immediately on leaving the church we shall set out for Villiers. M. de
+Meilhan is at Richeport. M. de Monbert is in Brittany. Eight days must
+elapse before the news can reach them. Thus I have before me eight days
+of holy intoxication. What man has ever been able to say as much?
+
+Recall to mind the words of one of your poet friends; It is better to
+die young and restore to God, your judge, a heart pure and full of
+illusions. Your poet is right; only it is more ecstatic to die in the
+arms of happiness, and to be buried with the flower of a love which has
+not yet faded.
+
+My love would never have followed the fatal law of common-place
+affection; years would never have withered it in their passage. But what
+signifies its duration, if we can crowd eternity into an hour? What
+signifies the number of days if the days are full?
+
+Nevertheless, I cannot refrain from regretting an existence which
+promises so much beauty. We would have been very happy in my little
+château on the Creuse. I was born for fireside joys, the delights of
+home. I already saw my beautiful children playing over my green lawns,
+and pressing joyfully around their mother. What exquisite pleasure to be
+able to initiate into the mysteries of fortune the sweet and noble being
+whom I then believed to be poor and friendless! I would take possession
+of her life to make a long fête-day of it. What tender care would I not
+bestow upon so dear and charming a destiny! Downy would be her nest,
+warm the sun that shone upon her, sweet the perfumes that surrounded
+her, soft the breezes that fanned her cheek, green and velvety the turf
+under her delicate feet! But a truce to such sweet dreams. I know M. de
+Monbert; what I have seen of him is sufficient. M. de Meilhan, too, will
+not disappoint me. I shall not conceal myself; in eight days these two
+men will have found me. In eight days they will knock at my door, like
+two creditors, demanding restitution, one of Louise, the other of Irene.
+If I were to descend to justification, even if I were to succeed in
+convincing them of my loyalty and uprightness, their despair would cry
+out all the louder for vengeance. Then, madame, what shall I do? Shall I
+try to take the life of my friends after having robbed them of their
+happiness? Let them kill me; I shall be ready; but they shall see upon
+my lips, growing cold in death, the triumphant smile of victorious love;
+my last sigh, breathing Irene's name, will be a cruel insult to these
+unhappy men, who will envy me even in the arms of death.
+
+I neither believe nor desire that Irene should survive me. My soul, in
+leaving, will draw hers after it. What would she do here below, without
+me? You will see, that feeling herself gently drawn upward, she will
+leave a world that I no longer inhabit. I repeat, that I would not have
+her live on earth without me. But sorrow does not always kill; youth is
+strong, and nature works miracles. I have seen trees, struck by
+lightning, still stand erect and put forth new leaves. I have seen
+blasted lives drag their weary length to a loveless old age. I have seen
+noble hearts severed from their mates, slowly consumed by the weariness
+of widowhood and solitude. If we could die when we have lost those we
+love, it would be too sweet to love. Jealous of his creature, God does
+not always permit it. It is a grace which he accords only to the elect.
+If, by a fatality not without precedent, Irene should have the strength
+and misfortune to survive me, to you, madame, do I confide her. Care for
+her, not with the hope of consoling her, but to banish all bitterness
+from her regrets. Picture my death to her, not as the expiation of the
+innocent whim of her youth, but as that of a happiness too great to go
+unchecked. Tell her that there are great joys as well as great sorrows,
+and that when they have outweighed the human measure of happiness, the
+heart which holds them must break and grow still. Tell her, ah! above
+all, tell her that I have dearly loved her, and if I carry her whole
+life away with me, I leave her mine in exchange. Finally, madame, tell
+her that I died blessing her, regretting that I had but one life to lay
+down as the price of her love.
+
+While I write, I see her at her window, smiling, radiant, beautiful,
+beaming with happiness, resplendent with life and youth.
+
+Farewell, madame; an eternal farewell!
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Poste-Restante (Rouen).
+
+Paris, August 12th 18--.
+
+What I wrote you yesterday was very infamous and incredible. You think
+that is all; well, no! you have only half of the story. My hand trembles
+with rage so that I can scarcely hold my pen. What remains to be told is
+the acme of perfidy; a double-dyed treason; we have been made game of,
+you as a plighted husband, I as a lover. All this seems as incoherent to
+you as a dream. What can I have in common with Irene whom I have never
+seen? Wait, you shall see!
+
+My faithful Joseph discovered that the marriage was to take place at the
+Church of the Madeleine, at six o'clock in the morning.
+
+I was so agitated, so restless, so tormented by gloomy presentiments
+that I did not go to bed. At the given hour I went out wrapped in my
+cloak. Although it is summer-time I was cold; a slight feverish chill
+ran through me. The catastrophe to come had already turned me pale.
+
+The Madeleine stood out faintly against the gray morning sky. The livid
+figures of some revellers, surprised by the day, were seen here and
+there on the street corners. The stir of the great city had not yet
+begun. I thought I had arrived too soon, but a carriage with neither
+crest nor cipher, in charge of a servant in quiet livery, was stationed
+in one of the cross-streets that run by the church.
+
+I ascended the steps with uncertain footing, and soon saw, in one of
+those spurious chapels, which have been stuck with so much trouble in
+that counterfeit Greek temple, wax lights and the motions of the priest
+who officiated.
+
+The bride, enveloped in her veil, prostrated before the altar, seemed to
+be praying fervently; the husband, as if he were not the most
+contemptible of men, stood erect and proud, his face beaming with joy.
+The ceremony drew to a close, Irene raised her head, but I was so placed
+as not to be able to distinguish her features.
+
+I leaned against a column in order to whisper in Irene's ear, as she
+passed, a word as cutting as the crystal poniards of the bravos of
+Venice, which break in the wound and slay without a drop of blood. Irene
+advanced buoyantly along, leaning on Raymond's arm, with an undulating,
+rhythmical grace, as if her feet trod the yielding clouds, instead of
+the cold stones of the aisle. She no longer walked the earth, her
+happiness lifted her up; the ardor of her delight made me comprehend
+those assumptions of the Saints, who soared in their ecstasy above the
+floors of their narrow cells and caverns; she felt the deep delight of a
+woman who sacrifices herself.
+
+When she reached the column that concealed me, an electrical current
+doubtless warned her of my presence, for she shuddered as if struck by
+an unseen arrow, and quickly turned her head; a stray sunbeam lit up her
+face, and I recognised in Irene de Chateaudun, Louise Guérin; in the
+rich heiress, the screen-painter of Pont de l'Arche!
+
+Irene and Louise were the same person!
+
+We have been treated as Cassandras of comedy; we have played in all
+seriousness the scene between Horace and Arnolphe. We have confided to
+each other our individual loves, hopes and sorrows. It is very amusing;
+but, contrary to custom, the tragedy will come after the farce, and we
+will play it so well that no one will be tempted to laugh at our
+expense; we will convert ridicule into terror. Ah! Mademoiselle Irene de
+Chateaudun, you imagined that you could amuse yourself with two such men
+as the Prince de Moubert and Edgar de Meilhan! that there it would end,
+and you had only to say to them: "I love another better!" And you,
+Master Raymond, thought that your virtuous reputation would make your
+perfidy appear like an act of devotion! No, no, in the drama where the
+great lady was an adventuress, the artless girl a fast woman, the hero
+a traitor, the lover a fool, and the betrothed husband a Geronte, the
+rôles are to be changed.
+
+A hoarse cry escaped me, Irene clung convulsively to Raymond's arm, and
+precipitately left the church. Raymond, without understanding this
+sudden flight, yielded to it and rapidly descended the steps. The
+carriage was in waiting; they got into it; the coachman whipped up his
+horses and soon they were out of sight.
+
+Irene, Louise, whatever may be your name or your mask, you shall not
+long remain Madame de Villiers; a speedy widowhood will enable you to
+begin your coquetries again. I regret to be compelled to strike you
+through another, for _you_ merit death.
+
+EDGAR BE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE VILLIERS,
+Au Château de Villiers (Creuse).
+
+August 16th 18--.
+
+MONSIEUR,--
+
+I take pleasure in sending you, by way of apologue, an anecdote, which
+you may read with profit.
+
+During my travels I met with an estimable man, a Creole of the colony of
+Port Natal, by the name of Smollet.
+
+I sometimes hunted in the neighborhood of his place, and on two
+occasions demanded his hospitality. He received me in a dubious manner,
+admitted me to his table, scarcely spoke to me; served me with
+Constantia wine, refused to accept my proffered hand, and surrendered me
+his own couch to rest my wearied limbs upon. From Port Natal I wrote
+this savage two notes of thanks, commencing: _My dear friend_--in
+writing, I could not confer on him a title of rank, so I gave him one of
+affection: _My dear friend_. My letters were ignored--as I had asked
+nothing, there was nothing to answer. One evening I met the Creole
+walking up the avenue of Port Natal, and advanced towards him, and held
+out my hand in a friendly way. Once more he declined to accept it. My
+vexation was apparent: "Monsieur," said the savage, "you appear to be an
+honest, sincere young man, very unlike a European. I must enlighten and
+warn your too unsuspecting mind. You have several times called me _your
+dear friend_. Doing this might prove disastrous to you, and then I would
+be in despair. I am not your friend; I am the friend of no one.... Avoid
+me, monsieur; shun my neighborhood, shun my house. Withdraw the
+confidence, that with the carelessness of a traveller you have reposed
+in me.... Adieu!" This _adieu_ was accompanied by a sinister smile and a
+savage look that were anything but reassuring to me. I afterwards
+discovered that the Creole Smollet was a professional bandit!!
+
+I hope, Monsieur de Villiers, that the application of this apologue will
+not escape you. At all events, I will add a few lines to enlighten your
+unsophisticated mind. You have always been my friend, monsieur. You have
+never disclaimed this relation; you have always pressed my hand when we
+met. Your professed friendship justified my confidence, and it would
+have been ungrateful in me to have esteemed you less than I did the
+savage. You and Mad. de Braimes have cunningly organized against me a
+plot of the basest nature. Doubtless you call it a happy combination of
+forces--I call it a perfidious conspiracy. I imagine I hear you and Mad.
+de Braimes at this very moment laughing at your victim as you
+congratulate yourselves on the success of your machinations. It affords
+me pleasure to think that one of these two friends is, perhaps, a man.
+Were they both women I could not demand satisfaction. You deserve my
+gratitude for your great kindness in assisting me when I most needed a
+friend. When I sought Mlle, de Chateaudun with a foolish, blind anxiety,
+you charitably aided me in my efforts to find her. You were my guide, my
+compass, my staff; you led me over roads where Mlle, de Chateaudun never
+thought of going; your guidance was so skilful that at the end of my
+searches you alone found what we had both been vainly seeking. You must
+have been delighted and entertained at the result, monsieur! Did Mad. de
+Braimes laugh very much? Truly, monsieur, you are old beyond your years,
+and your education was not confined to Greek and Latin; your talent for
+acting has been cultivated by a profound study of human nature. You play
+high comedy to perfection, and you should not let your extreme modesty
+prevent your aspiring to a more brilliant theatre. It is a pity that
+your fine acting should be wasted upon me alone. You deserve a larger
+and more appreciative audience! You do not know yourself. I will hold a
+mirror before your eyes; you can affect astonishment, disinterestedness,
+magnanimity, and a constellation of other virtues, blooming like flowers
+in the gardens of the golden age. You are a perfected comedian. If you
+really possessed all the virtues you assume, you would, like Enoch,
+excite the jealousy of Heaven, and be translated to your proper sphere.
+A man of your transcendent virtue would be a moral scourge in our
+corrupt society. He would, by contrast, humiliate his neighbors. In
+these degenerate days such a combination of gifts is antagonistic to
+nature.
+
+Do relieve our anxiety by accepting the title of comedian. Acknowledge
+yourself to be an actor, and our anxious fears are quieted.
+
+I would have my mind set at rest upon one more point. Courage is another
+virtue that can be assumed by a coward, and it would afford me great
+pleasure to see you act the part of a _brave_ comedian.
+
+While waiting for your answer I feel forced to insult you by thinking
+that this last talent is wanting in your rich repertory. Be kind enough
+to deny this imputation, and prove yourself to be a thoroughly
+accomplished actor.
+
+Your admiring audience,
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ COUNT DE VILLIERS,
+Château de Villiers, via Guéret (Creuse).
+
+PARIS, Aug. 16th 18--.
+
+Noble hidalgo, illustrious knight of la Mancha; you who are so fond of
+adventures and chivalric deeds, I am about to make you a proposition
+which, I hope, will suit your taste: a fight with sharp weapons, be it
+lance, or axe, or dagger; a struggle to the death, showing neither pity
+nor quarter. I know beforehand what you are going to say: Your native
+generosity will prevent you from fighting a duel with your friend. In
+the first place, I am not your friend; traitors have not that honor. Do
+not let that scruple stop you, refined gentleman.
+
+Your mask has fallen off, dear Tartuffe with the fine feelings. We now
+know to what figures you devote yourself. Before dragging English women
+out of the flames you are well aware of their social position. You save
+friends from bankruptcy at a profit of eighty per cent., and when you
+make love to a grisette, you have her crest and the amount of her income
+in your pocket. In coming to my house, you knew that Louise was Irene.
+Madame de Braimes had acquainted you with all the circumstances during
+your interesting convalescence. All this may seem very natural to others
+and to a virtuous mortal, a Grandison like yourself. But I think
+differently; to me your conduct appears cowardly, base and contemptible.
+I should not be able to control myself, but would endeavor to make you
+comprehend my opinion of you, by slapping you in the face, wherever I
+met you. I hope that you will spare me such a disagreeable alternative
+by consenting to _pose_ for a few moments before my sword or pistol, as
+you please. Allow me to entreat you not to exhibit any grandeur of soul,
+by firing in the air, it would not produce the slightest effect upon me,
+for I should kill you like a dog. Your presence upon the earth annoys
+me, and I do not labor for morality in deeds myself.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+COMTE DE VILLIERS _to_ MESSRS. ROGER DE MONBERT _and_
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+
+VILLIERS, Aug 18th 18--.
+
+Let us drop such language unworthy of you and of me. We are gentlemen,
+of military descent; our fathers when they did each other the honor that
+you offer me, challenged, but did not insult each other. If the affair
+were equal, if I had only one to contend with, perhaps I might attempt
+to bring him to reason There are two of you; come on, I await you.
+
+COMTE DE VILLIERS XXXIX.
+
+
+VILLIERS, August 21st 18--.
+
+For two days I have been trying to answer your letter, my dear
+Valentine, but I am so uneasy, nervous and excited that I dare not
+commit to paper my wild and troubled thoughts; I am still sane enough to
+accuse myself of madness, but dread to prove it. Were I to write down
+all the strange ideas that rush through my mind, and then read them
+over, conviction of insanity would stare me in the face.
+
+I was right when I told you it was a risk to accept such a wealth of
+happiness; my sweet enchantment is disturbed by dark threatening
+clouds--danger lurks in the air--the lightest word fills me with
+uneasiness--a letter written in a strange hand--an unexpected visitor,
+who leaves Raymond looking preoccupied--everything alarms me, and he
+gently chides me and asks why I look so sad. I say because I am too
+happy; but he thinks this a poor reason for my depression, and to divert
+my thoughts he walks with me through the beautiful valleys and tells me
+of his youth and the golden dreams of his early manhood, and assures me
+that his dreams of happiness are realized beyond his most exalted
+hopes--that he did not believe the angels would permit so perfect a
+being as myself to dwell on earth--that to be loved by me for a day, for
+an hour, he would willingly give up his life, and that such a sacrifice
+was a small price for such a love. I dared not mar his happiness by
+giving expression to my sad fears. His presence allays my apprehensions;
+he has so much confidence in the future that I cannot help being
+inspired with a portion of it; thus, when he is near me, I feel happy
+and reassured, but if he leaves me for a moment I am beset by myriads of
+terrible threatening phantoms. I accuse myself of having been imprudent
+and cruel; I fear I have not, as you say, inspired two undying passions,
+two life-long devotions, but exasperated two vindictive men. I well know
+that M. de Monbert did not love me, and yet I fear his unjust
+resentment. I recall Edgar's absurd breach of faith, and Edgar, whose
+image had until now only seemed ridiculous, Edgar appears before my
+troubled vision furious and threatening. I am haunted by a vague
+remembrance: The day of my wedding, after the benediction, as we were
+leaving the chapel, I was terribly frightened--in the silent gloom of
+the immense church I heard a voice, an angry stifled voice, utter my
+name ... the name I bore at Pont de l'Arche--Louise!... I quickly turned
+around to see whence came this voice that could affect me so powerfully
+at such a moment! I could discover no one.... Louise!... Many women are
+called Louise, it is a common name--perhaps it was some father calling
+his daughter, or some brother his sister. There was nothing remarkable
+in the calling of this name, and yet it filled me with alarm. I recalled
+Edgar's looks on that evening he was so angry with me; the rage gleaming
+in his eyes; the violent contraction of his features, his voice terrible
+and stifled like the voice in the church, and I was now convinced that
+his love was full of haughty pride, selfishness and hatred. But I said
+to myself, if it had been he, he would have followed me and looked in
+our carriage--I would have seen him in the church, or on the portico
+outside.... Besides, why should he have come?... he had given up seeing
+me; he could easily have found me had he so desired; he knew where
+Madame Taverneau's house was in Paris, and he knew that I lived with
+her; if he had hoped to be received by me, he would have simply called
+to pay a visit.... Finally, if he was at this early hour--six in the
+morning--in the church, at so great a distance from where I live, it was
+not to act as a spy upon me. The man who called Louise was not Edgar--it
+could not have been Edgar. This reflection reassured me. I questioned
+Raymond; he had seen no one, heard no one. I remembered that M. de
+Meilhan was not in Paris, and tried to convince myself that it was
+foolish to think of him any more. But yesterday I learned in a letter
+from Madame Taverneau--who as yet knows nothing of my marriage or
+departure from Paris, and will not know, until a year has elapsed, of
+the fortune I have settled upon her--I learned that M. de Meilhan left
+Havre and came direct to Paris. His mother did not tell him that I had
+gone with her to bring him home. When she found that her own influence
+was sufficient to detain him in France, she was silent as to my share in
+the journey. I thank her for it, as I greatly prefer he should remain
+ignorant of the foolish idea I had of sacrificing myself at his shrine
+in order to make his mother happy. But what alarms me is that she keeps
+him in Paris because she knows that he will learn the truth at
+Richeport, and because she hopes that the gayeties around him will more
+quickly make him forget this love that so interfered with her ambitious
+projects. So Edgar _was_ in Paris the day of my wedding ... and perhaps
+... but no, who could have told him anything? I lived three miles from
+the parish where I was married.... It could not have been he ... and yet
+I fear that man.... I remember with what bitterness and spite he spoke
+to me of Raymond, in a letter, filled with unjust reproaches, that he
+wrote me three days after my departure from Richeport. In this letter,
+which I immediately burned, he told me that M. de Villiers was engaged
+to be married to his cousin. O how wretched this information made me! It
+had been broken off years ago, but M. de Villiers thought the engagement
+still existed; he spoke of it as a tie that would prevent his friend
+from indulging in any pretensions to my favor; and yet what malevolence
+there was in his praise of him, what jealous fear in his insolent
+security! How ingenuously he said: "Since I have no cause to fear him,
+why do I hate him?" I now remember this hatred, and it frightens me.
+Aided by Roger he will soon know all; he will discover that Irene de
+Chateaudun and Louise Guérin are the same person, and then two furious
+men will demand an explanation of my trifling with their feelings and
+reproach me with the duplicity of my conduct.... Valentine, do you think
+they could possibly act thus? Valentine! do you think these two men, who
+have so shamefully insulted my memory, so grossly betrayed me and proved
+themselves disgracefully faithless, would dare lay any claims to my
+love? Alas! in spite of the absurdity of such a supposition, Heaven
+knows they are fully capable of acting thus; men in love have such
+relaxed morality, such elastic consciences!
+
+Under pretext of imaginary ungovernable passions, they indulge, without
+compunction, in falsehood, duplicity and the desecration of every
+virtue!... and yet think a pure love can condone and survive such
+unpardonable wrongs. They lightly weigh the tribute due to the
+refinement of a woman's heart. Their devotion is characterized by a
+singular variety. The loyal love of noble women is sacrificed to please
+the whims of those unblushing creatures who pursue such men with
+indelicate attentions and enslave them by flattering their inordinate
+vanity, and they, to preserve their self-love unhurt, pierce and
+mortally wound the generous hearts that live upon their affection and
+revere their very names--these they strike without pity and without
+remorse. And then when the tender love falls from these broken hearts,
+like water from a shattered vase, never to be recovered, they are
+astonished, uneasy, ... they have broken the heart filled with love, and
+now, with stupid surprise and pretended innocence, they ask what has
+become of the love!... they cowardly murdered it, and are indignant that
+it dared to die beneath their cruel blows. But why dwell upon Edgar and
+his anger and hatred, of Roger and his fury? Fate needs not these
+terrible instruments to destroy our happiness; the slightest accident,
+the most trifling imprudence can serve its cruelty; every thing will
+assist it in taking vengeance upon a man revelling in too much love, too
+much love. The cold north wind blowing at night upon his heated brow may
+strike him with the chill of death; the bridge may perfidiously break
+beneath his feet and cast him in the surging torrent below; a lofty
+rock, shivered by the winter frost, may fall upon him and crush him to
+atoms; his favorite horse may be frightened at a shadow and hurl him
+over the threatening precipice ... that child playing in front of my
+window might carelessly strike him on the temple with one of those
+pebbles and kill him....
+
+Oh! Valentine, I am not laboring under an illusion. I see danger; the
+world revolts against pure, unalloyed happiness; society pursues it as
+an offence; nature curses it because of its perfection; to her every
+perfect thing seems a monstrosity not to be borne--directly she suspects
+its existence, she gives the alarm and the elements unite in conspiring
+against this happiness; the thunder-bolt is warned and holds itself in
+readiness to burst over the radiant brow. With human beings all the evil
+passions are simultaneously aroused: secret notice, unknown voices warn
+the envious people of every nation that there is somewhere a great joy
+to be disturbed; that in some corner of the earth two beings exist who
+sought and found each other--two hearts that love with ideal equality
+and intoxicating harmony.... Chance itself, that careless railer, is
+overbearing and jealous towards them; it is angry with these two beings
+who voluntarily sought and conscientiously chose each other without
+waiting for it to confer happiness upon them--it discovers their names,
+that never knows the name of any one, and pursues them with its
+animosity; it recovers its sight in order to recognise and strike them.
+I feel that we are too happy! Death stares us in the face! My soul
+shudders with fear! On earth we are not allowed to taste of supreme
+delight--pure, unalloyed happiness--to feel at once that ecstasy of soul
+and delirium of passion--that pride of love and loftiness of a pure
+conscience ... burning joys are only permitted to culpable love. When
+two unfortunate beings, bound by detested ties, meet and mutually
+recognise the ideals of their dreams, they are allowed to love each
+other because they have met too late, because this immense joy, this
+finding one's ideal, is poisoned by remorse and shame. Their criminal
+happiness can remain undisturbed because it is criminal; it has the
+conditions of life, frailty and misery; it bears the impress of sin,
+therefore it belongs to a common humanity.... But find ideal bliss in a
+legitimate union, find it in time to welcome it without shame and
+cherish it without remorse; be happy as a lover and honored as a wife;
+to experience the wild ardor of love and preserve the charming freshness
+of purity--to delight in obeying the equitable law of the most
+harmonious love by being alternately a slave and a queen; to call upon
+him who calls upon you; seek him who seeks you; love him who loves
+you--in a word, to be the idol of your idol!... it is too much, it
+surpasses human happiness, it is stealing fire from heaven--it is, I
+tell you, incurring the punishment of death!
+
+In my enthusiasm I already stand upon the boundary of the true world---
+I have a glimpse of paradise; earth recedes from my gaze; I understand
+and expect death, because life has bid me a last farewell--the
+exaltation that I feel belongs to the future of the blessed; it is a
+triumphant dying--that final and supremely happy thought that tells me
+my soul is about to take its flight.
+
+Oh! merciful God! my brain is on fire! and why do I write you these
+incoherent thoughts! Valentine, you see all excessive emotions are
+alike; the delirium of joy resembles the frenzy of despair. Having
+attained the summit of happiness, what do we see at our feet?... a
+yawning abyss!... we have lost the steep path by which we so painfully
+reached the top; once there, we have no means of gradually descending
+the declivity ... from so great a height we cannot walk, we fall!
+
+There is but one way of preserving happiness--abjure it--never welcome
+it; sometimes it delights in visiting ungrateful people. Vainly do I
+seek to reassure myself by expiation, by sacrifices; during these eight
+days I have been lavishly giving gold in the neighborhood, I have
+endowed all the children, fed the poor, enriched the hospitals; I would
+willingly ruin myself by generous charity, by magnificent donations--I
+would cheerfully give my entire fortune to obtain rest and peace for my
+troubled mind.
+
+Every morning I enter the empty church and fervently pray that God will
+permit me by some great sacrifice to insure my happiness. I implore him
+to inflict upon me hard trials, great humiliations, intense pain,
+sufferings beyond any strength, but to have mercy upon my poor heart and
+spare me Raymond ... to leave me a little longer Raymond, ...
+
+Raymond and his love!
+
+But these tears and prayers will be vain--Raymond himself, without
+understanding his presentiments, instinctively feels that his end is
+approaching. His purity of soul, his magnanimity, the unexampled
+disinterestedness of his conduct, are indications--these sublime virtues
+are symptoms of death--this generosity, this disinterestedness are tacit
+adieux. Raymond possesses none of the weaknesses of men destined for a
+long life; he has indulged in none of the wicked passions of the age--he
+has kept himself apart, observing but not sharing the actions of men. He
+regards life as if he were a pilgrim, and takes no part in any of its
+turmoils--he has not bargained for any of its disenchantments; his great
+pride, his life-long, unbending loyalty have concealed a mournful
+secret; he has stood aloof because he was convinced of his untimely end.
+He feels self-reliant because he will only have a short time to
+struggle; he is joyous and proud, because he looks upon the victory as
+already won ... I weep as I admire him.
+
+Alas! am I to regard with sorrow and fear these noble qualities--these
+seductive traits that won my love? Is it because he deserves to be loved
+more than any being on earth has ever been loved, that I tremble for
+him! Valentine, does not such an excess of happiness excite your pity?
+
+Ever since early this morning, I have been suffering torment--Raymond
+left me for a few hours--he went to Guéret; one of his cousins returning
+from the waters of Néris was to pass through there at ten o'clock, and
+requested him to meet her at the hotel. Nothing is more natural, and I
+have no reason to be alarmed--yet this short absence disturbs me as much
+as if it were to last years--it makes me sad--it is the first time we
+have been separated so long a time during these eight blissful days.
+
+Ah! how I love him, and how heavy hangs time on my hands during his
+absence!
+
+One thought comforts me in my present state of exaltation; I am unequal
+to any great misfortune.... A fatal piece of news, a painful sight, a
+false alarm ... a certain dreaded name mingled with one that I
+adore--ah! a false report, although immediately contradicted, would
+kill me on the spot--I could not live the two minutes it would require
+to hear the denial--the truth happily demonstrated. This thought
+consoles me--if my happiness is to end, I shall die with it.
+
+Valentine, it is two o'clock! Oh! why does Raymond not return? My heart
+sinks--my hand trembles so that I can scarcely hold the pen--my eyes
+grow dim.... What can detain him? He left at eight, and should have
+returned long ago. I know well that the relative he went to see might
+have been delayed on the road--she may have mistaken the time, women are
+so ignorant about travelling--they never understand the timetables.
+
+All this tells me I am wrong to be uneasy--and yet ... I shudder at
+every sound.... his horse is so fiery.... I am astonished that Raymond
+did not let me read his relative's letter; he said he had left it on his
+table ... but I looked on the table and it was not there. I wished to
+read the letter so as to find out the exact time he was to be at Guéret,
+and then I could tell when to expect him home.
+
+But this relative is the mother of the girl he was to have married....
+perhaps she still loves him.... is she with her mother?... Ah! what an
+absurd idea! I am so uneasy that I divert my mind by being jealous--to
+avoid thinking of possible dangers, I conjure up impossible ones.... Oh!
+my God! it is not his love I doubt ... his love equals mine--it is the
+intensity of his love that frightens me--it is in this love so pure, so
+perfect, so divine--in this complete happiness that the danger lies. Is
+it not sinful to idolize one of God's creatures, when this adoration is
+due to God alone--to devote one's whole existence to a human being, for
+his sake to forget everything else? This is the sin before Heaven ...
+
+Oh! if I could only see him, and once more hear his voice! That blessed
+voice I love so much! How miserable I am!... What agony I suffer!... I
+stifle ... my brain whirls--my mind is so confused that I cannot think
+... this torture is worse than death ... And then if he should suddenly
+appear before me, what joy!... Oh! I don't wish him to enter the room
+at once--I would like one minute to prepare myself for the happiness of
+seeing him ... one single moment.... If he were to abruptly enter, I
+would become frantic with joy as I embraced him!
+
+My dear Valentine, what a torment is love!... It is utterly impossible
+for me to support another hour of this agitation. I am sure I have a
+fever--I shiver with cold--I burn--my brain is on fire....
+
+As I write this to you, seated at the window, I eagerly watch the long
+avenue by which he must return.... I write a word ... a whole line so as
+to give him time to approach, hoping I will see him coming when I raise
+my eyes--.... After writing each line I look again.... nothing appears
+in the distance; I see neither his horse nor the cloud of dust that
+would announce his approach. The clock strikes! three o'clock!...
+Valentine! it is fearful ... hope deserts me ... all is lost ... I feel
+myself dying ... Instinct tells me that some dreadful tragedy, ruinous
+to me, is now enacting on this earth.... Ah! my heart breaks ... I
+suffer torture.... Raymond! Raymond! Valentine! my mother! help!...
+help!... I see a horse rushing up the avenue ... but it is not Raymond's
+... ah! it _is_ his ... but ... I don't see Raymond ... the saddle is
+empty ... God!
+
+This unfinished letter of the Comtesse de Villiers to Madame de Braimes
+bore neither address nor signature.
+
+
+
+
+XL.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+Hotel de Bellevue, Bruxelles (Belgique).
+
+You are now at Brussels, my dear Edgar, at least for my own peace of
+mind I hope so. Although I fear not for you the rigors of the law, still
+I am anxious to know that you are on a safe and hospitable shore.
+
+Criminal trials, even when they have a favorable issue, are injurious.
+In your case it is necessary to keep concealed, await the result of
+public opinion, and let future events regulate your conduct. Besides, as
+there is no law about duelling, you must distrust the courts of justice.
+The day will come when some jury, tired of so many acquittals, will
+agree upon a conviction. Your case may be decided by this jury--so it is
+only prudent for you to disappear, and abide the issue.
+
+Things have entirely changed during my ten years' absence; all this is
+new to me. Immediately after the duel I obeyed your instructions, and
+went to see your lawyer, Delestong. With the exception of a few
+omissions, I was obliged to relate everything that happened. I must tell
+you exactly what I said and what I left unsaid, so that if we are
+summoned before the court our testimony shall not conflict.
+
+It was unnecessary to relate what passed between us before the duel, so
+I merely said we had drawn lots as to who should be the avenger, and who
+the second; nor did I deem it proper to explain the serious causes of
+the duel, as it would have resulted in a long story, and the bringing in
+of women's names at every turn, an unpardonable thing in a man. I simply
+said the cause was serious, and of a nature to fully justify a deadly
+meeting; that we, Monsieur de Meilhan and myself, left Guéret at six
+o'clock in the morning; when three miles from the town, we left the
+high-road of Limoges and entered that part of the woods called the
+Little Cascade, where we dismounted and awaited the arrival of M. de
+Villiers, who, in a few minutes, rode up to us, accompanied by two
+army-officers as seconds. We exchanged bows at a distance of ten feet,
+but nothing was said until the elder of the officers advanced towards
+me, shook my hand, and drawing me aside, began: "We military men dare
+not refuse to act on this occasion as seconds when summoned by a brave
+man, but we always come with the hope of effecting a reconciliation.
+These young men are hot-headed. There is some pretty woman at the root
+of the difficulty, and they are acting the rôles of foolish rivals. The
+day has passed for men to fight about such silly things; it is no longer
+the fashion. Now, cannot we arrange this matter satisfactorily, without
+injuring the pride of these gentlemen?"
+
+"Monsieur," I replied, "it is with profound regret that I decline making
+any amicable settlement of this affair. Under any other circumstances I
+would share your peaceable sentiments; as it is, we have come here with
+a fixed determination. If you knew--"
+
+"Do tell me the provocation--I am very anxious to learn it," said the
+officer, interrupting me, eagerly.
+
+"You ask what is impossible," I replied; "nothing could alter our
+determination. We fully made up our minds before coming here."
+
+"That being the case, monsieur," said he, "my friend and I will
+withdraw; we decline to countenance a murder."
+
+"If you retire, captain," I responded, pressing his hand, "I will also
+leave, and not be answerable for the result--and what will be the
+consequence? I can assure you, upon my honor, that these gentlemen will
+fight without seconds."
+
+The officer bowed and waved his hand, in sign of forced acquiescence.
+After a short pause, he continued: "We have entered upon a very
+distasteful affair, and the sooner it is ended the better. Have they
+decided upon the weapons?"
+
+"They have decided, monsieur, to draw lots for the choice of arms," I
+replied.
+
+"Then," he cried, "there has been no insult given or received; they are
+both in the right and both in the wrong."
+
+"Exactly so, captain."
+
+"I suppose we will have to consent to it. Let us draw for the weapons,
+since it is agreed upon."
+
+The lot fell on the sword.
+
+"With this weapon," I said, "all the disadvantages are on the side of M.
+de Meilhan; the skilful fencing of his adversary is celebrated among
+amateurs. He is one of Pons's best scholars."
+
+"Have you brought a surgeon?" said the captain.
+
+"Yes, monsieur, we left Dr. Gillard in a house near by."
+
+As you see, dear Edgar, I shall lay great stress upon the disadvantages
+you labored under in using the sword; and, when necessary, I shall
+express in eloquent terms the agony I felt when I saw your hand, more
+skilful in handling the pen than the sword, hesitatingly grasp the hilt.
+
+I finished my deposition in these words: "When the distance had been
+settled, by casting lots, we handed our principals two swords exactly
+alike; one of the adverse seconds and myself stood three steps off with
+our canes raised in order to separate them at all risk, if necessary, in
+obedience to the characteristically French injunction of the duelling
+code as laid down by M. Chateunvillard.
+
+"At the given signal the swords were bravely crossed; Edgar, with the
+boldness of heroic inexperience, bravely attacked his adversary.
+Raymond, compelled to defend himself, was astonished. At this terrible
+moment, when thought paralyzes action, he was absorbed in thought. The
+contest was brief. Edgar's sword, only half parried, pierced his rival's
+heart. The surgeon came to gaze upon a lifeless corpse.
+
+"Edgar mounted his horse, rode off and I have not seen him since. Those
+who remained rendered the last offices to the dead."
+
+I am obliged to write you these facts, my dear Edgar, not for
+information, but to recall them to you in their exact order; and
+especially, I repeat, in order to avoid contradiction on the
+witness-stand. Now I must write you of what you are ignorant.
+
+I had a duty to fulfil, much more terrible than yours, and I was obliged
+to recall our execrable oath in order to renew courage and strength to
+keep my promise.
+
+Before we had cast lots for the leading part in this duel, we swore to
+go ourselves to the house of this woman and announce to her the issue of
+the combat, if it proved favorable to us. In the delirium of angry
+excitement, filling our burning hearts at the moment, this oath appeared
+to be the most reasonable thing in the world. Our blood boiled with such
+violent hatred against him and her that it seemed just for vengeance,
+with refined cruelty, to step over a corpse and pursue its work ere its
+second victim had donned her widow's robes.
+
+Edgar! Edgar! when I saw that blood flowing, when I saw life and youth
+converted into an inanimate mass of clay, when you left me alone on this
+inanimate theatre of death, my feelings underwent a sudden revolution;
+this moment seemed to age me a half a century, and without lessening my
+hatred, only left me a confused perception of it, with a vague memory
+full of disenchantment and sadness.
+
+The crime was great, it is true, but what a terrible expiation! What
+hellish torture heaped upon him at once! To lose all at the point of the
+sword, all!--youth, fortune, love, wife, celestial joys, beautiful
+nature and the light of the sun!
+
+However, dear Edgar, I remembered our solemn promise; and as you were
+not here to release me, I was obliged to fulfil it to the letter. And
+then again, shall I say it, this humane consideration did not extend to
+the offending woman; my heart was still filled with a sentiment that has
+no name in the language of the passions!--A mixture of hatred, love,
+jealousy, scorn and despair.
+
+She was not dead! A man had been sacrificed as a victim upon the altar
+of this goddess: that was all.
+
+Do not women require amusement of this sort?
+
+She would live; to-day, she would weep; to-morrow, seek the common path
+of consolation. One victim is not enough to gratify her cruel vanity!
+She must be quickly consoled, that she might be ready to receive fresh
+sacrifices in her temple.
+
+My heart filled with angry passions awakened by these thoughts, I
+spurred my horse, and hastened in the direction of the house that had
+been described to me the day before. I soon recognised the picturesque
+spot, where this accursed house lay concealed in the midst of beautiful
+trees and smiling waters.
+
+An electric shock must have communicated to you, dear Edgar, the
+oppression of heart I felt at the sight of the landscape. There was the
+history of love in every tree and flower. There was an ineffable record
+in the hedges of the valleys; loving caresses in the murmur of the
+water-lilies; ecstasies of lovers in the quivering of the leaves; divine
+intoxication in the exhalations of the wild flowers, and in the lights,
+shadows and gentle breezes under the mysterious alcoves of the trees.
+Oh! how happy they must have been in this paradise! The whole air was
+filled with the life of their love and happiness! There must have been
+present a supernatural and invisible being, who was a jealous witness of
+this wedded bliss, and who made use of your sword to destroy it! So much
+happiness was an offence before heaven. We have been the blind
+instrument of a wrathful spirit. But what mattered death after such a
+day of perfect bliss! After having tasted the most exquisite tenderness
+in the world! When looking at the proud young husband sitting in this
+flowery bower, with the soft starlight revealing his happy face as he
+tenderly and hopefully gazed on his lovely bride, who would not have
+exclaimed with the poet,
+
+  "My life for a moment of bliss like this."
+
+Who would not have welcomed your sword-thrust as the price of a moment's
+duration of such divine joy?
+
+The survivors are the unfortunate ones, because they saw but could not
+taste this happiness.
+
+Infernal Tantalus of the delights of Paradise, because their dream has
+become the reality of another, and lawful vengeance leaves them a
+satisfaction poisoned by remorse!
+
+Come with me, dear Edgar, in my sad pilgrimage to this accursed house,
+and with me behold the closing scene. I left the shade of the woods and
+approached the lawn, that, like an immense terrace of grass and flowers,
+spread before the house. I saw many strange things, and with that
+comprehensive, sweeping glance of feverish excitement; two horses
+covered with foam, their saddles empty and bridles dragging, trampled
+down the flower-borders. One horse was Raymond's, returned riderless!
+Doubtless brought home by the servant who had accompanied him.
+
+Not a face was visible, in the sun, the shade, the orchard, on the
+steps, or at the windows. I observed in the garden two rakes lying on
+some beautiful lilies; they had not been carefully laid down, but
+dropped in the midst of the flowers, on hearing some cry of distress
+from the house.
+
+One window was open; the rich curtains showed it to be the room of a
+woman; the carelessly pushed open blinds proved that an anxious watcher
+had passed long hours of feverish expectation at the window. A desolate
+silence reigned around the house; this silence was fearful, and at an
+hour of the day when all is life and animation, in harmony with the
+singing birds and rippling waters.
+
+I ascended the steps, mechanically noticing the beautiful flowers
+clustering about the railing; flowers take a part in every catastrophe
+of life. On the threshold, I forgot myself to think of you, to live with
+your spirit, to walk with your feet, for my own resolution would have
+failed me at this fatal moment.
+
+In the vestibule I looked through a half-open folding-door, and, in the
+funereal darkness, saw some peasantry kneeling and praying. No head was
+raised to look at me. I slowly entered the room with my eyes downcast,
+and lids swollen with tears I forcibly restrained. In a recess, lying on
+a sofa, was something white and motionless, the sight of which froze my
+blood.... It was--I cannot write her name, Edgar--it was she. My
+troubled gaze could not discover whether dead or living. She seemed to
+be sleeping, with her hair lying carelessly about the pillow, in the
+disorder of a morning repose.
+
+Near by was a young man-servant, his vest spotted with blood; with face
+buried in his hands he was weeping bitterly.
+
+Near her head a window was raised to admit the fresh air. This window
+opened on an inner courtyard, very gloomy on account of the masses of
+leaves that seemed to drop from the walls and fill it with sombreness.
+
+Two men dressed in black, with faces more melancholy-looking than their
+garments, were in this courtyard, talking in low tones; through the
+window I could only see their heads and shoulders. I merely glanced at
+them; my eyes, my sorrow, my hatred, my love were all concentrated upon
+this woman. Absorbed by a heart-rending gaze, an instinct rather than
+idea rooted me to the spot.
+
+I waited for her to recover her senses, to open her eyes, not to add to
+her anguish by a word or look of mine, but to let her see me standing
+there, a living, silent accusation. Some farmer-boys entered with
+lighted candles, a cross and basin of holy-water. In the disorder of my
+mind, I understood nothing, but slowly walked out on the terrace, with
+the vague idea of breathing a little fresh air and returning.
+
+The serenity of the sky, the brightness of the sun, the green trees, the
+fragrant flowers, the songs of the birds, offered an ironical contrast
+to the scene of mourning. Often does nature refuse to countenance human
+sorrows, because they are ungrateful to her goodness. She creates the
+wonders of heaven to make us happy; we evoke the secrets of hell to
+torture our souls and bodies. Nature is right to scorn our
+self-inflicted sorrows.
+
+You see, my dear Edgar, that I make you share all of my torments, all of
+my gloomy reflections. I make you live over this hour, minute by minute,
+agony on agony, as I suffered it myself.
+
+I stood aside under a tree, waiting I know not for what; one of the men
+in black, I had seen from the window, came down the steps of the terrace
+and advanced towards me. I made some confused remark; the situation
+supplied it with intelligence.
+
+"You are a relation, a friend, an acquaintance?" he said, inquiringly.
+
+"Yes, monsieur."
+
+"It is a terrible misfortune," he added, clasping his hands and bowing
+his head; "or rather say two terrible misfortunes in one day; the poor
+woman is also dead." ...
+
+Like one in a dream I heard the latter remark, and I now transcribe it
+to you as my impression of something that occurred long, long ago,
+although I know it took place yesterday.
+
+"Yes, dead," he went on to say; "we were called in too late. Bleeding
+would have relieved the brain. It was a violent congestion; we have
+similar cases during our practice. An immense loss to the community. A
+woman who was young, beautiful as an angel, and charity itself....
+Dead!"
+
+He looked up, raised his hand to heaven, and walked rapidly away.
+
+I am haunted by a memory that nothing can dispel. This spectre doubtless
+follows you too, dear Edgar. It is a mute, eloquent image fashioned in
+the empty air, like the outline of a grave; a phantom that the sun
+drives not away, pursuing me by day and by night. It is Raymond's face
+as he stood opposite to you on the field of death, his brow, his eye,
+his lips, his whole bearing breathing the noblest sentiments that were
+ever buried in an undeserved grave. This heroic young man met us with
+the fatal conviction that his last hour had come; he felt towards us
+neither hatred nor contempt; he obeyed the inexorable exigencies of the
+hour, without accusation, without complaint.
+
+The silence of Raymond clothed in sublime delicacy his friendship for
+us, and his love for her. His manner expressed neither the resignation
+that calls for pity nor the pride that provokes passion; his countenance
+shone with modest serenity, the offspring of a grand resolve.
+
+In a few days of conjugal bliss he had wandered through the flowery
+paths of human felicity; he had exhausted the measure of divine
+beatitude allotted to man on earth, and he stood nerved for the
+inevitable and bloody expiation of his happiness.
+
+All this was written on Raymond's face.
+
+Edgar! Edgar! we were too relentless. Why should honor, the noblest of
+our virtues, be the parent of so much remorse?
+
+Adieu.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XLI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street, Paris (France).
+
+Do not be uneasy, dear Roger; I have reached the frontier without being
+pursued; the news of the fatal duel had not yet spread abroad. I thank
+you, all the same, for the letter which you have written me, and in
+which you trace the line of conduct I should pursue in case of arrest.
+The moment a magistrate interferes, the clearest and least complicated
+affair assumes an appearance of guilt. However, it would have been all
+the same to me if I had been arrested and condemned. I fled more on your
+account than on my own. No human interest can ever again influence me;
+Raymond's death has ended my life!
+
+What an inexplicable enigma is the human heart! When I saw Raymond
+facing me upon the ground, an uncontrollable rage took possession of me.
+The heavenly resignation of his face seemed infamous and finished
+hypocrisy. I said to myself: "He apes the angel, the wretch!" and I
+regretted that custom interposed a sword between him and my hatred. It
+seemed so coldly ceremonious, I would have liked to tear his bosom open
+with my nails and gnaw his heart out with my teeth. I knew that I would
+kill him; I already saw the red lips of his wound outlined upon his
+breast by the pale finger of death. When my steel crossed his, I
+attempted neither thrusts nor parries. I had forgotten the little
+fencing I knew. I fought at random, almost with my eyes shut; but had my
+adversary been St. George or Grisier, the result would have been the
+same.
+
+When Raymond fell I experienced a profound astonishment; something
+within me broke which no hand will ever be able to restore! A gulf
+opened before me which can never be filled! I stood there, gloomily
+gazing upon the purple stream that flowed from the narrow wound,
+fascinated in spite of myself by this spectacle of immobility succeeding
+action, death succeeding life, without shade or transition; this young
+man, who a moment before was radiant with life and hope, now lay
+motionless before me, as impossible to resuscitate as Cheops under his
+pyramid. I was rooted to the spot, unconsciously repeating to myself
+Lady Macbeth's piteous cry: "Who would have thought the man to have had
+so much blood in him?"
+
+They led me away; I allowed them to put me into the carriage like a
+thing without strength or motion. The excitement of anger was succeeded
+by an icy calmness; I had neither memory, thought nor plans; I was
+annihilated; I would have liked to stop, throw myself on the ground and
+lie there for ever. I felt no remorse, I had not even the consciousness
+of my crime; the thought that I was a murderer had not yet had time to
+fix itself in my mind; I felt no connection whatever with the deed that
+I had done, and asked myself if it was I, Edgar de Meilhan, who had
+killed Raymond! It seemed as if I had been only a looker-on.
+
+As to Irene, the innocent cause of this horrible catastrophe, I scarcely
+thought of her; she only appeared to me a faint phantom seen in another
+existence! My love, my longings, my jealousy had all vanished. One drop
+of Raymond's warm blood had stilled my mad vehemence. She is dead, poor
+darling, it is the only happiness that I could wish her; her death
+lessens my despair. If she lived, no torture, no penance could be fierce
+enough to expiate my crime! No hermit of the desert would lash his
+quivering flesh more pitilessly than I!
+
+Rest in peace, dear Louise, for you will always be Louise to me, even in
+heaven, which I shall never reach, for I have killed my brother and
+belong to the race of Cain; I do not pity thee, for thou hast clasped in
+thy arms the dream of thy heart. Thou hast been happy; and happiness is
+a crime punishable on earth by death, as is genius and divinity.
+
+You will forgive me! for I caught a glimpse of the angel through the
+woman. I also sought my ideal and found it. O beautiful loving being!
+why did your faith fail you, why did you doubt the love you inspired!
+Alas! I thought you a faithless coquette; you were conscientious; your
+heart was a treasure that you could not reclaim, and you wished to
+bestow it worthily! Now I know all; we always know all when it is too
+late, when the seal of the irreparable is fixed upon events! You came to
+Havre, poor beauty, to find me, and fled believing yourself deceived;
+you could not read my despair through my fictitious joy; you took my
+mask for my real countenance, the intoxication of my body for the
+oblivion of my soul! In the midst of my orgie, at the very moment when
+my foot pressed on the Ethiop's body, your azure eyes illumined my
+dream, your blonde tresses rippled before me like golden waters of
+Paradise; thoughts of you filled my mind like a vase with divine
+essence! never have I loved you better; I loved you better than the
+condemned man, standing on the last step of the scaffold, loves life,
+than Satan loves heaven from the depths of hell! My heart, if opened,
+would have exhibited your name written in all its fibres, like the grain
+of wood which runs through the whole tree. Every particle of my being
+belonged to you; thoughts of you pervaded me, in every sense, as light
+passes through the air. Your life was substituted for mine; I no longer
+possessed either free will or wish.
+
+For a moment you paused upon the brink of the abyss, and started back
+affrighted; for no woman can gaze, unflinchingly, into the depths of
+man's heart; precipices always have frightened you--dear angel, as if
+you had not wings! If you had paused an instant longer, you would have
+seen far, far in the gloom in a firmament of bright stars, your adored
+image.
+
+Vain regrets! useless lamentation! The damp and dark earth covers her
+delicate form! Her beautiful eyes, her pure brow, her fascinating smile
+we shall never see again--never--never--if we live thousands of years.
+Every hour that passes but widens the distance between us. Her beauty
+will fade in the tomb, her name be lost in oblivion! For soon we shall
+have disappeared, pale forms bending over a marble tomb!
+
+It is very sad, sinister and terrible, but yet it is best so. See her in
+the arms of another: Roger! what have we done to God to be damned
+alive! I can pity Raymond, since death separates him from Louise. May he
+forgive me! He will, for he was a grand, a noble, a perfect friend. We
+both failed to appreciate him, as a matter of course; folly and baseness
+are alone comprehended here below!
+
+We ran a desperate race for happiness! One alone attained it--dead!
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cross of Berny, by Emile de Girardin
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cross of Berny, by Emile de Girardin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Cross of Berny
+
+Author: Emile de Girardin
+
+Release Date: August 15, 2004 [EBook #13191]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROSS OF BERNY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<a href='#PREFACE_TO_THE_AMERICAN_EDITION'><b>PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#ORIGINAL_PREFACE_TO_THE_FRENCH_EDITION'><b>ORIGINAL PREFACE TO THE FRENCH EDITION.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CROSS_OF_BERNY'><b>CROSS OF BERNY.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#I'><b>I.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#II'><b>II.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#III'><b>III.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#IV'><b>IV.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#V'><b>V.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#VI'><b>VI.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#VII'><b>VII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#VIII'><b>VIII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#IX'><b>IX.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#X'><b>X.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XI'><b>XI.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XII'><b>XII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XIII'><b>XIII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XIV'><b>XIV.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XV'><b>XV.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XVI'><b>XVI.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XVII'><b>XVII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XVIII'><b>XVIII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XIX'><b>XIX.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XX'><b>XX.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXI'><b>XXI.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXII'><b>XXII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXIII'><b>XXIII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXIV'><b>XXIV.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXV'><b>XXV.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXVI'><b>XXVI.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXVII'><b>XXVII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXVIII'><b>XXVIII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXIX'><b>XXIX.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXX'><b>XXX.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXXII'><b>XXXII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXXIII'><b>XXXIII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXXIV'><b>XXXIV.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXXV'><b>XXXV.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXXVI'><b>XXXVI.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXXVII'><b>XXXVII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XXXVIII'><b>XXXVIII.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XL'><b>XL.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#XLI'><b>XLI.</b></a><br />
+
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+<h1>THE CROSS OF BERNY</h1>
+
+<h1>OR
+
+IRENE'S LOVERS</h1>
+
+<h2>BY MADAME EMILE DE GIRARDIN</h2>
+<h2>MM. TH&Eacute;OPHILE GAUTIER<br />
+JULES SANDEAU AND MERY</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='PREFACE_TO_THE_AMERICAN_EDITION'></a><h2>PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>Literary partnerships have often been tried, but very rarely with
+success in the more imaginative branches of literature. Occasionally two
+minds have been found to supplement each other sufficiently to produce
+good joint writing, as in the works of MM. Erckman-Chatrian; but when
+the partnership has included more than two, it has almost invariably
+proved a failure, even when composed of individually the brightest
+intellects, and where the highest hopes have been entertained. Standing
+almost if not quite alone, in contrast with these failures of the past,
+THE CROSS OF BERNY is the more remarkable; and has achieved the success
+not merely of being the simply harmonious joint work of four individual
+minds,&mdash;but of being in itself, and entirely aside from its interest as
+a literary curiosity, a <i>great book</i>.</p>
+
+<p>A high rank, then, is claimed for it not upon its success as a literary
+partnership, for that at best would but excite a sort of curious
+interest, but upon its intrinsic merit as a work of fiction. The spirit
+of rivalry in which it was undertaken was perhaps not the best guarantee
+of harmony in the tone of the whole work, but it has certainly added
+materially to the wit and brilliancy of the letters, while harmony has
+been preserved by much tact and skill. No one of its authors could alone
+have written THE CROSS OF BERNY&mdash;together, each one has given us his
+best, and their joint effort will long live to their fame.</p>
+
+<p>The shape in which it appears, as a correspondence between four
+characters whose names are the pseudonyms of the four authors of the
+book, although at first it may seem to the reader a little awkward, will
+upon reflection be seen to be wisely chosen, since it allows to each of
+the prominent characters an individuality otherwise very difficult of
+attainment. In this way also any differences of style which there may
+be, tend rather to heighten the effect, and to increase the reality of
+the characters.</p>
+
+<p>The title under which the original French edition appeared has been
+retained in the translation, although since its applicability depends
+upon a somewhat local allusion, the general reader may possibly fail to
+appreciate it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='ORIGINAL_PREFACE_TO_THE_FRENCH_EDITION'></a><h2>ORIGINAL PREFACE TO THE FRENCH EDITION.</h2>
+<br />
+
+<p>The Cross of Berny was, it will be remembered, a brilliant tourney,
+where Madame de Girardin (n&eacute;e Delphine Gay), Th&eacute;ophile Gautier, Jules
+Sandeau and M&eacute;ry, broke lances like valiant knights of old.</p>
+
+<p>We believe we respond to the general wish by adding to the <i>Biblioth&egrave;que
+Nouvelle</i> this unique work, which assumed and will ever retain a high
+position among the literary curiosities of the day.</p>
+
+<p>Not feeling called upon to decide who is the victor in the tilt, we
+merely lift the pseudonymous veil concealing the champions.</p>
+
+The letters signed Irene de Chateaudun are by Madame de Girardin.<br />
+<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp;  &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp;  Edgar de Meilhan&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; M. Th&eacute;ophile Gautier.</span><br />
+<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp;  &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp;  Raymond de Villiers&nbsp;  &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; M. Jules Sandeau.</span><br />
+<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>&quot;&nbsp; &nbsp;  &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp;  Roger de Monbert&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &quot;&nbsp; &nbsp; M. M&eacute;ry.</span><br />
+
+<p>Who are recognised as the four most brilliant of our celebrated
+contemporaneous authors.&mdash;EDITOR.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='CROSS_OF_BERNY'></a><h2>CROSS OF BERNY.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='I'></a><h2>I.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel de la Pr&eacute;fecture,<br />
+GRENOBLE (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+
+<p>PARIS, May 16th, 18&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>You are a great prophetess, my dear Valentino. Your predictions are
+verified.</p>
+
+<p>Thanks to my peculiar disposition, I am already in the most deplorably
+false position that a reasonable mind and romantic heart could ever have
+contrived.</p>
+
+<p>With you, naturally and instinctively, I have always been sincere;
+indeed it would be difficult to deceive one whom I have so often seen by
+a single glance read the startled conscience, and lead it from the ways
+of insolence and shame back into the paths of rectitude.</p>
+
+<p>It is to you I would confide all my troubles; your counsel may save me
+ere it be too late.</p>
+
+<p>You must not think me absurd in ascribing all my unhappiness to what is
+popularly regarded as &quot;a piece of good luck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Governed by my weakness, or rather by my fatal judgment, I have plighted
+my troth!... Good Heavens! is it really true that I am engaged to Prince
+de Monbert?</p>
+
+<p>If you knew the prince you would laugh at my sadness, and at the
+melancholy tone in which I announce this intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>Monsieur de Monbert is the most witty and agreeable man in Paris; he is
+noble-hearted, generous and ...in fact fascinating!... and I love him!
+He alone pleases me; in his absence I weary of everything; in his
+presence I am satisfied and happy&mdash;the hours glide away uncounted; I
+have perfect faith in his good heart and sound judgment, and proudly
+recognise his incontestable superiority&mdash;yes, I admire, respect, and, I
+repeat it, love him!...</p>
+
+<p>Yet, the promise I have made to dedicate my life to him, frightens me,
+and for a month I have had but one thought&mdash;to postpone this marriage I
+wished for&mdash;to fly from this man whom I have chosen!...</p>
+
+<p>I question my heart, my experience, my imagination, for an answer to
+this inexplicable contradiction; and to interpret so many fears, find
+nothing but school-girl philosophy and poetic fancies, which you will
+excuse because you love me, and I <i>know</i> my imaginary sufferings will at
+least awaken pity in your sympathetic breast.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, my dear Valentine, I am more to be pitied now, than I was in the
+days of my distress and desolation. I, who so courageously braved the
+blows of adversity, feel weak and trembling under the weight of a too
+brilliant fortune.</p>
+
+<p>This happy destiny for which I alone am responsible, alarms me more than
+did the bitter lot that was forced upon me one year ago.</p>
+
+<p>The actual trials of poverty exhaust the field of thought and prevent us
+from nursing imaginary cares, for when we have undergone the torture of
+our own forebodings, struggled with the impetuosity and agony of a
+nature surrendered to itself, we are disposed to look almost with relief
+on tangible troubles, and to end by appreciating the cares of poverty as
+salutary distractions from the sickly anxieties of an unemployed mind.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! believe me to be serious, and accuse me not of comic-opera
+philosophy, my dear Valentine! I feel none of that proud disdain for
+importunate fortune that we read of in novels; nor do I regret &quot;my
+pretty boat,&quot; nor &quot;my cottage by the sea;&quot; here, in this beautiful
+drawing-room of the Hotel de Langeac, writing to you, I do not sigh for
+my gloomy garret in the Marais, where my labors day and night were most
+tiresome, because a mere parody of the noblest arts, an undignified
+labor making patience and courage ridiculous, a cruel game which we play
+for life while cursing it.</p>
+
+<p>No! I regret not this, but I do regret the indolence, the idleness of
+mind succeeding such trivial exertions. For then there were no
+resolutions to make, no characters to study, and, above all, no
+responsibility to bear, nothing to choose, nothing to change.</p>
+
+<p>I had but to follow every morning the path marked out by necessity the
+evening before.</p>
+
+<p>If I were able to copy or originate some hundred designs; if I possessed
+sufficient carmine or cobalt to color some wretched
+engravings&mdash;worthless, but fashionable&mdash;which I must myself deliver on
+the morrow; if I could succeed in finding some new patterns for
+embroidery and tapestry, I was content&mdash;and for recreation indulged at
+evenings in the sweetest, that is most absurd, reveries.</p>
+
+<p>Revery then was a rest to me, now it is a labor, and a dangerous labor
+when too often resorted to; good thoughts then came to assist me in my
+misery; now, vexatious presentiments torment my happiness. Then the
+uncertainty of my future made me mistress of events. I could each day
+choose a new destiny, and new adventures. My unexpected and undeserved
+misfortune was so complete that I had nothing more to dread and
+everything to hope for, and experienced a vague feeling of gratitude for
+the ultimate succor that I confidently expected.</p>
+
+<p>I would pass long hours gazing from my window at a little light shining
+from the fourth-story window of a distant house. What strange
+conjectures I made, as I silently watched the mysterious beacon!</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes, in contemplating it, I recalled the questions addressed by
+Childe Harold to the tomb of Cecilia Metella, asking the cold marble if
+she who rested there were young and beautiful, a dark-eyed,
+delicate-featured woman, whose destiny was that reserved by Heaven for
+those it loves; or was she a venerable matron who had outlived her
+charms, her children and her kindred?</p>
+
+<p>So I also questioned this solitary light:</p>
+
+<p>To what distressed soul did it lend its aid? Some anxious mother
+watching and praying beside her sick child, or some youthful student
+plunging with stern delight into the arcana of science, to wrest from
+the revealing spirits of the night some luminous truth?</p>
+
+<p>But while the poet questioned death and the past, I questioned the
+living present, and more than once the distant beacon seemed to answer
+me. I even imagined that this busy light flickered in concert with mine,
+and that they brightened and faded in unison.</p>
+
+<p>I could only see it through a thick foliage of trees, for a large garden
+planted with poplars, pines and sycamores separated the house where I
+had taken refuge from the tall building whence the beacon shone for me
+night after night.</p>
+
+<p>As I could never succeed in finding the points of the compass, I was
+ignorant of the exact locality of the house, or even on what street it
+fronted, and knew nothing of its occupants. But still this light was a
+friend; it spoke a sympathetic language to my eyes&mdash;it said: &quot;Courage!
+you do not suffer alone; behind these trees and under those stars there
+is one who watches, labors, dreams.&quot; And when the night was majestic and
+beautiful, when the morn rose slowly in the azure sky, like a radiant
+host offered by the invisible hand of God to the adoration of the
+faithful who pray, lament and die by night; when these ever-new
+splendors dazzled my troubled soul; when I felt myself seized with that
+poignant admiration which makes solitary hearts find almost grief in
+joys that cannot be shared, it seemed to me that a dear voice came to
+calm my excitement, and exclaimed, with fervor, &quot;Is not the night
+beautiful? What happiness in enjoying it together!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When the nightingale, deceived by the silence of the deserted spot, and
+attracted by these dark shades, became a Parisian for a few days,
+rejuvenating with his vernal songs the old echoes of the city, again it
+seemed that the same voice whispered softly through the trembling
+leaves: &quot;He sings, come listen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So the sad nights glided peacefully away, comforted by these foolish
+reveries.</p>
+
+<p>Then I invoked my dear ideal, beloved shadow, protector of every honest
+heart, proud dream, a perfect choice, a jealous love sometimes making
+all other love impossible! Oh, my beautiful ideal! Must I then say
+farewell? Now I no longer dare to invoke thee!...</p>
+
+<p>But what folly! Why am I so silly as to permit the remembrance of an
+ideal to haunt me like a remorse? Why do I suffer it to make me unjust
+towards noble and generous qualities that I should worthily appreciate?</p>
+
+<p>Do not laugh at me, Valentine, when I assure you that my greatest
+distress is that my lover does not resemble in any respect my ideal, and
+I am provoked that I love him&mdash;I cannot deceive myself, the contrast is
+striking&mdash;judge for yourself.</p>
+
+<p>You may laugh if you will, but the whole secret of my distress is the
+contrast between these two portraits.</p>
+
+<p>My lover has handsome, intelligent blue eyes&mdash;my ideal's eyes are black,
+full of sadness and fire, not the soft, troubadour eye with long
+drooping lids&mdash;no! My ideal's glance has none of the languishing
+tenderness of romance, but is proud, powerful, penetrating, the look of
+a thinker, of a great mind yielding to the influence of love, the gaze
+of a hero disarmed by passion!</p>
+
+<p>My lover is tall and slender&mdash;my ideal is only a head taller than myself
+... Ah! I know you are laughing at me, Valentine! Well! I sometimes
+laugh at myself....</p>
+
+<p>My lover is frankness personified&mdash;my ideal is not a sly knave, but he
+is mysterious; he never utters his thoughts, but lets you divine, or
+rather he speaks to a responsive sentiment in your own bosom.</p>
+
+<p>My lover is what men call &quot;A good fellow,&quot; you are intimate with him in
+twenty-four hours.</p>
+
+<p>My ideal is by no means &quot;a good fellow,&quot; and although he inspires
+confidence and respect, you are never at ease in his presence, there is
+a graceful dignity in his carriage, an imposing gentleness in his
+manner, that always inspires a kind of fear, a pleasing awe.</p>
+
+<p>You remember, Valentine, when we were very young girls how we were wont
+to ask each other, in reading the annals of the past, what situations
+would have pleased us, what parts we would have liked to play, what
+great emotions we would have wished to experience; and how you pityingly
+laughed at my odd taste.</p>
+
+<p>My dream,<i>par excellence</i>, was to die of fear; I never envied with you
+the famed heroines, the sublime shepherdesses who saved their country. I
+envied the timid Esther fainting in the arms of her women at the fierce
+tones of Ahasuerus, and restored to consciousness by the same voice
+musically whispering the fondest words ever inspired by a royal love.</p>
+
+<p>I also admired Semele, dying of fear and admiration at the frowns of a
+wrathful Jove, but her least of all, because I am terrified in a
+thunderstorm.</p>
+
+<p>Well, I am still the same&mdash;to love tremblingly is my fondest dream; I do
+not say, like pretty Madame de S., that I can only be captivated by a
+man with the passions of a tiger and the manners of a diplomate, I only
+declare that I cannot understand love without fear.</p>
+
+<p>And yet my lover does not inspire me with the least fear, and against
+all reasoning, I mistrust a love that so little resembles the love I
+imagined.</p>
+
+<p>The strangest doubts trouble me. When Roger speaks to me tenderly; when
+he lovingly calls me his dear Irene, I am troubled, alarmed&mdash;I feel as
+if I were deceiving some one, that I am not free, that I belong to
+another. Oh! what foolish scruples! How little do I deserve sympathy!
+You who have known me from my childhood and are interested in my
+happiness, will understand and commiserate my folly, for folly I know it
+to be, and judge myself as severely as you would.</p>
+
+<p>I have resolved to treat these wretched misgivings and childish fears
+as the creations of a diseased mind, and have arranged a plan for their
+cure.</p>
+
+<p>I will go into the country for a short time; good Madame Taverneau
+offers me the hospitality of her house at Pont-de-l'Arche; she knows
+nothing of what has happened during the last six months, and still
+believes me to be a poor young widow, forced to paint fans and screens
+for her daily bread.</p>
+
+<p>I am very much amused at hearing her relate my own story without
+imagining she is talking to the heroine of that singular romance.</p>
+
+<p>Where could she have learned about my sad situation, the minute details
+that I supposed no one knew?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A young orphan girl of noble birth, at the age of twenty compelled by
+misfortune to change her name and work for her livelihood, is suddenly
+restored to affluence by an accident that carried off all her relatives,
+an immensely rich uncle, his wife and son.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She also said my uncle detested me, which proved that she was well
+informed&mdash;only she adds that the young heiress is horribly ugly, which I
+hope is not true!</p>
+
+<p>I will go to Mme. Taverneau and again become the interesting widow of
+Monsieur Albert Gu&eacute;rin, of the Navy.</p>
+
+<p>Perilous widowhood which invited from my dear Mme. Taverneau confidences
+prematurely enlightening, and which Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun had some
+difficulty in forgetting.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! misery is a cruel emancipation! Angelic ignorance, spotless
+innocence of mind is a luxury that poor young girls, even the most
+circumspect, cannot enjoy.</p>
+
+<p>What presence of mind I had to exercise for three long years in order to
+sustain my part!</p>
+
+<p>How often have I felt myself blush, when Mme. Taverneau would say: &quot;Poor
+Albert! he must have adored you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>How often have I had to restrain my laughter, when, in enumerating the
+perfections of her own husband, she would add, with a look of pity: &quot;It
+must distress you to see Charles and me together, our love must recall
+your sad loss.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To these remarks I listened with marvellous self-possession; if comedy
+or acting of any kind were not distasteful to me, I would make a good
+actress.</p>
+
+<p>But now I must finish telling you of my plan. To-morrow I will set out
+ostensibly with my cousin, accompanying her as far as Fontainbleau,
+where she is going to join her daughter, then I will return and hide
+myself in my modest lodging, for a day or two, before going to
+Pont-de-l'Arche.</p>
+
+<p>With regard to my cousin, I must say, people abuse her unjustly; she is
+not very tiresome, this fat cousin of mine; I heard of nothing but her
+absurdities, and was warned against taking up my abode with her and
+choosing her for my chaperone, as her persecutions would drive me
+frantic and our life would be one continuous quarrel. I am happy to say
+that none of these horrors have been realized. We understand each other
+perfectly, and, if I am not married next winter, the Hotel de Langeac
+will still be my home.</p>
+
+<p>Roger, uninformed of my departure, will be furious, which is exactly
+what I want, for from his anger I expect enlightenment, and this is the
+test I will apply. Like all inexperienced people, I have a theory, and
+this theory I will proceed to explain.</p>
+
+<p>If in your analysis of love you seek sincerity, you must apply a little
+judicious discouragement, for the man who loves hopefully, confidently,
+is an enigma.</p>
+
+<p>Follow carefully my line of reasoning; it maybe complicated, laborious,
+but&mdash;it is convincing.</p>
+
+<p>All violent love is involuntary hypocrisy.</p>
+
+<p>The more ardent the lover the more artful the man.</p>
+
+<p>The more one loves, the more one lies.</p>
+
+<p>The reason of all this is very simple.</p>
+
+<p>The first symptom of a profound passion is an all-absorbing
+self-abnegation. The fondest dream of a heart really touched, is to make
+for the loved one the most extraordinary and difficult sacrifice.</p>
+
+<p>How hard it is to subdue the temper, or to change one's nature! yet from
+the moment a man loves he is metamorphosed. If a miser, to please he
+will become a spendthrift, and he who feared a shadow, learns to despise
+death. The corrupt Don Juan emulates the virtuous Grandison, and,
+earnest in his efforts, he believes himself to be really reformed,
+converted, purified regenerated.</p>
+
+<p>This happy transformation will last through the hopeful period. But as
+soon as the remodelled pretender shall have a presentiment that his
+metamorphosis is unprofitable; as soon as the implacable voice of
+discouragement shall have pronounced those two magic words, by which
+flights are stayed, thoughts paralyzed, and hopeful hearts deadened,
+&quot;Never! Impossible!&quot; the probation is over and the candidate returns to
+the old idols of graceless, dissolute nature.</p>
+
+<p>The miser is shocked as he reckons the glittering gold he has wasted.
+The quondam hero thinks with alarm of his borrowed valor, and turns pale
+at the sight of his scars.</p>
+
+<p>The rou&eacute;, to conceal the chagrin of discomfiture, laughs at the promises
+of a virtuous love, calls himself a gay deceiver, great monster, and is
+once more self-complacent.</p>
+
+<p>Freed from restraint, their ruling passions rush to the surface, as when
+the floodgates are opened the fierce torrent sweeps over the field.</p>
+
+<p>These hypocrites will feel for their beloved vices, lost and found
+again, the thirst, the yearning we feel for happiness long denied us.
+And they will return to their old habit, with a voracious eagerness, as
+the convalescent turns to food, the traveller to the spring, the exile
+to his native land, the prisoner to freedom.</p>
+
+<p>Then will reckless despair develop their genuine natures; then, and then
+only, can you judge them.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! I breathe freely now that I have explained my feelings What do you
+think of my views on this profound subject&mdash;discouragement in love?</p>
+
+<p>I am confident that this test must sometimes meet with the most
+favorable results. I believe, for example, that with Roger it will be
+eminently successful, for his own character is a thousand times more
+attractive than the one he has assumed to attract me. He would please me
+better if he were less fascinating&mdash;his only fault, if it be a fault, is
+his lack of seriousness.</p>
+
+<p>He has travelled too much, and studied different manners and subjects
+too closely, to have that power of judging character, that stock of
+ideas and principles without which we cannot make for ourselves what is
+called a philosophy, that is, a truth of our own.</p>
+
+<p>In the savage and civilized lands he traversed, he saw religions so
+ridiculous, morals so wanton, points of honor so ludicrous, that he
+returned home with an indifference, a carelessness about everything,
+which adds brilliancy to his wit, but lessens the dignity of his love.</p>
+
+<p>Roger attaches importance to nothing&mdash;a bitter sorrow must teach him the
+seriousness of life, that everything must not be treated jestingly.
+Grief and trouble are needed to restore his faith.</p>
+
+<p>I hope he will be very unhappy when he hears of my inexplicable flight,
+and I intend returning for the express purpose of watching his grief;
+nothing is easier than to pass several days in Paris <i>incog</i>.</p>
+
+<p>My beloved garret remains unrented, and I will there take sly pleasure
+in seeing for myself how much respect is paid to my memory&mdash;I very much
+enjoy the novel idea of assisting at my own absence.</p>
+
+<p>But I perceive that my letter is unpardonably long; also that in
+confiding my troubles to you, I have almost forgotten them; and here I
+recognise your noble influence, my dear Valentine; the thought of you
+consoles and encourages me. Write soon, and your advice will not be
+thrown away. I confess to being foolish, but am sincerely desirous of
+being cured of my folly. My philosophy does not prevent my being open to
+conviction, and willing to sacrifice my logic to those I love.</p>
+
+<p>Kiss my godchild for me, and give her the pretty embroidered dress I
+send with this. I have trimmed it with Valenciennes to my heart's
+content. Oh! my friend, how overjoyed I am to once more indulge in
+these treasured laces, the only real charm of grandeur, the only
+unalloyed gift of fortune. Fine country seats are a bore, diamonds a
+weight and a care, fast horses a danger; but lace! without whose
+adornment no woman is properly dressed&mdash;every other privation is
+supportable; but what is life without lace?</p>
+
+<p>I have tried to please your rustic taste in the wagon-load of newly
+imported plants, one of which is a <i>Padwlonia</i> (do not call it a
+Polonais), and is now acclimated in France; its leaves are a yard in
+circumference, and it grows twenty inches a month&mdash;malicious people
+say it freezes in the winter, but don't you believe the slander.</p>
+
+<p>Adieu, adieu, my Valentine, write to me, a line from you is happiness.</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+My address is,<br />
+Madame Albert Gu&eacute;rin,<br />
+Care Mme. Taverneau, Pont de l'Arche,<br />
+Department of the Eure.<br />
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='II'></a><h2>II.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> M. DE MEILHAN,<br />
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure.)<br />
+
+<p>Paris, May 19th, 18&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>Dear Edgar,&mdash;It cannot be denied that friendship is the refuge of
+adversity&mdash;the roof that shelters from the storm.</p>
+
+<p>In my prosperous days I never wrote you. Happiness is selfish. We fear
+to distress a friend who may be in sorrow, by sending him a picture of
+our own bliss.</p>
+
+<p>I am oppressed with a double burden; your absence, and my misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p>This introduction will, doubtless, impress you with the idea that I
+wander about Paris with dejected visage and neglected dress. Undeceive
+yourself. It is one of my principles never to expose my sacred griefs to
+the gaze of an unsympathetic world, that only looks to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Pity I regard as an insult to my pride: the comforter humiliates the
+inconsolable mourner; besides, there are sorrows that all pretend to
+understand, but which none really appreciate. It is useless, then, to
+enumerate one's maladies to a would-be physician; and the world is
+filled with those who delight in the miseries of others; who follow the
+sittings of courts and luxuriate in heart-rending pictures of man's
+injustice to his fellow.</p>
+
+<p>I do not care to serve as a relaxation to this class of mankind, who,
+since the abolition of the circus and amphitheatre, are compelled to
+pick up their pleasure wherever they can find it; seeking the best
+places to witness the struggle of Christian fortitude with adversity.</p>
+
+<p>But every civilized age has its savage manners, and, knowing this, I
+resemble in public the favorite of fortune. I simulate content, and my
+face is radiant with deceit.</p>
+
+<p>The idle and curious of the Boulevard Italien, the benches of the circus
+would hardly recognise me as the gladiator struggling with an
+iron-clawed monster&mdash;they are all deceived.</p>
+
+<p>I feel a repugnance, dear Edgar, to entertaining you with a recital of
+my mysterious sorrow. I would prefer to leave you in ignorance, or let
+you divine them, but I explain to prevent your friendship imagining
+afflictions that are not mine.</p>
+
+<p>In the first place, to reassure you, my fortune has not suffered during
+my absence. On my return to Paris, my agent dazzled me with the picture
+of my wealth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Happy man!&quot; said he; &quot;a great name, a large fortune, health that has
+defied the fires of the tropics, the ice of the poles,&mdash;and only
+thirty!&quot; The notary reasoned well from a notary's stand-point. If I were
+to reduce my possessions to ingots, they would certainly balance a
+notary's estimate of happiness; therefore, fear nothing for my fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Nor must you imagine that I grieve over my political and military
+prospects that were lost in the royal storm of '30, when plebeian cannon
+riddled the Tuilleries and shattered a senile crown. I was only sixteen,
+and hardly understood the lamentations of my father, whose daily refrain
+was, &quot;My child, your future is destroyed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A man's future lies in any honorable career. If I have left the
+epaulettes of my ancestors reposing in their domestic shrine, I can
+bequeath to my children other decorations.</p>
+
+<p>I have just returned from a ten years' campaign against all nations,
+bringing back a marvellous quantity of trophies, but without causing one
+mother to mourn. In the light of a conqueror, Caesar, Alexander, and
+Hannibal pale in comparison, and yet to a certainty my military future
+could not have gained me the epaulettes of these illustrious commanders.</p>
+
+<p>You would not, my dear Edgar, suppose, from the gaiety of this letter,
+that I had passed a frightful night.</p>
+
+<p>You shall see what becomes of life when not taken care of; when there is
+an unguarded moment in the incessant duel that, forced by nature, we
+wage with her from the cradle to the grave.</p>
+
+<p>What a long and glorious voyage I had just accomplished! What dangers I
+escaped! The treacherous sea defeated by a motion of the helm! The
+sirens to whom I turned a deaf ear. The Circes deserted under a baleful
+moon, ere the brutalizing change had come!</p>
+
+<p>I returned to Paris, a man with soul so dead that his country was not
+dear to him&mdash;I felt guilty of an unknown crime, but reflection reduced
+the enormity of the offence. Long voyages impart to us a nameless
+virtue&mdash;or vice, made up of tolerance, stoicism and disdain. After
+having trodden over the graveyards of all nations, it seems as if we had
+assisted at the funeral ceremonies of the world, and they who survive on
+its surface seem like a band of adroit fugitives who have discovered the
+secret of prolonging to-day's agony until to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>I walked upon the Boulevard Italien without wonder, hatred, love, joy or
+sorrow. On consulting my inmost thoughts I found there an unimpassioned
+serenity, a something akin to ennui; I scarcely heard the noise of the
+wheels, the horses&mdash;the crowd that surrounded me.</p>
+
+<p>Habituated to the turmoil of those grand dead nations near the vast
+ruins of the desert, this little hubbub of wearied citizens scarcely
+attracted my attention.</p>
+
+<p>My face must have reflected the disdainful quietude of my soul.</p>
+
+<p>By contemplative communion with the mute, motionless colossal faces of
+Egypt's and Persia's monuments, I felt that unwittingly my countenance
+typified the cold imperturbable tranquillity of their granite brows.</p>
+
+<p>That evening La Favorita was played at the opera. Charming work! full of
+grace, passion, love. Reaching the end of Le Pelletier street, my walk
+was blocked by a line of carriages coming down Provence street; not
+having the patience to wait the passage of this string of vehicles, nor
+being very dainty in my distinction between pavement and street, I
+followed in the wake of the carriages, and as they did not conceal the
+fa&ccedil;ade of the opera at the end of the court, I saw it, and said &quot;I will
+go in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I took a box below, because my family-box had changed hands, hangings
+and keys at least five times in ten years, and seated myself in the
+background to avoid recognition, and leave undisturbed friends who would
+feel in duty bound to pay fashionable court to a traveller due ten
+years. I was not familiar with La Favorita, and my ear took in the new
+music slowly. Great scores require of the indolent auditor a long
+novitiate.</p>
+
+<p>While I listened indolently to the orchestra and the singers, I examined
+the boxes with considerable interest, to discover what little
+revolutions a decade could bring about in the aristocratic personnel of
+the opera. A confused noise of words and some distinct sentences reached
+my ear from the neighboring boxes when the orchestra was silent. I
+listened involuntarily; the occupants were not talking secrets, their
+conversation was in the domain of idle chat, that divides with the
+libretto the attention of the habitues of the opera.</p>
+
+<p>They said, &quot;I could distinguish her in a thousand, I mistrust my sight a
+little, but my glass is infallible; it is certainly Mlle. de
+Bressuire&mdash;a superb figure, but she spoils her beauty by affectation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your glass deceives you, my dear sir, we know Mlle. de Bressuire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Madame is right; it is not Mlle. That young lady at whom everybody is
+gazing, and who to-night is the favorite&mdash;excuse the pun&mdash;of the opera,
+is a Spaniard; I saw her at the Bois de Boulogne in M. Martinez de la
+Hosa's carriage. They told me her name, but I have forgotten. I never
+could remember names.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ladies,&quot; said a young man, who noisily entered the box, &quot;we are at last
+enlightened. I have just questioned the box-keeper&mdash;she is a maid of
+honor to the Queen of Belgium.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And her name?&quot; demanded five voices.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She has a Belgian name, unpronounceable by the box-keeper; something
+like Wallen, or Meulen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are very much wiser.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From the general commotion it was easy to perceive that the same subject
+was being discussed by the whole house, and doubtless in the same
+terms; for people do not vary their formulas much on such occasions.</p>
+
+<p>A strain of music recalled to the stage every eye that during the
+intermission had been fastened upon one woman. I confess that I felt
+some interest in the episode, but, owing to my habitual reserve, barely
+discovered by random and careless glances the young girl thus handed
+over to the curious glances of the fashionable world. She was in a box
+of the first tier, and the native grace of her attitude first riveted my
+attention. The cynosure of all eyes, she bore her triumph with the ease
+of a woman accustomed to admiration.</p>
+
+<p>To appear unconscious she assumed with charming cleverness a pose of
+artistic contemplation. One would have said that she was really absorbed
+in the music, or that she was following the advice of the Tuscan poet:</p>
+
+&quot;Bel ange, descendu d'un monde a&eacute;rien,<br />
+Laisse-toi regarder et ne regarde rien.&quot;<br />
+
+<p>From my position I could only distinguish the outline of her figure,
+except by staring through my glasses, which I regard as a polite
+rudeness, but she seemed to merit the homage that all eyes looked and
+all voices sang.</p>
+
+<p>Once she appeared in the full blaze of the gas as she leaned forward
+from her box, and it seemed as if an apparition by some theatro-optical
+delusion approached and dazzled me.</p>
+
+<p>The rapt attention of the audience, the mellow tones of the singer, the
+orchestral accompaniment full of mysterious harmony, seemed to awaken
+the ineffable joy that love implants in the human heart. How much
+weakness there is in the strength of man!</p>
+
+<p>To travel for years over oceans, through deserts, among all varieties of
+peoples and sects; shipwrecked, to cling with bleeding hands to
+sea-beaten rocks; to laugh at the storm and brave the tiger in his lair;
+to be bronzed in torrid climes; to subject one's digestion to the
+baleful influences of the salt seas; to study wisdom before the ruins of
+every portico where rhetoricians have for three thousand years
+paraphrased in ten tongues the words of Solomon, &quot;All is vanity;&quot; to
+return to one's native shores a used-up man, persuaded of the emptiness
+of all things save the overhanging firmament and the never-fading stars;
+to scatter the fancies of too credulous youth by a contemptuous smile,
+or a lesson of bitter experience, and yet, while boasting a victory over
+all human fallacies and weaknesses, to be enslaved by the melody of a
+song, the smile of a woman.</p>
+
+<p>Life is full of hidden mysteries. I looked upon the stranger's face with
+a sense of danger, so antagonistic to my previous tranquillity that I
+felt humiliated.</p>
+
+<p>By the side of the beautiful unknown, I saw a large fan open and shut
+with a certain affectation, but not until its tenth movement did I
+glance at its possessor. She was my nearest relative, the Duchess de
+Langeac.</p>
+
+<p>The situation now began to be interesting. In a moment the interlude
+would procure for me a position to be envied by every one in the house.
+At the end of the act I left my box and made a rapid tour of the lobby
+before presenting myself. The Duchess dispelled my embarrassment by a
+cordial welcome. Women have a keen and supernatural perception about
+everything concerning love, that is alarming.</p>
+
+<p>The Duchess carelessly pronounced Mlle. de Chateaudun's name and mine,
+as if to be rid of the ceremonies of introduction as soon as possible,
+and touching a sofa with the end of her fan, said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Roger, it is quite evident that you have come from everywhere
+except from the civilized world. I bowed to you twenty times, and you
+declined me the honor of a recognition. Absorbed in the music, I
+suppose. La Favorita is not performed among the savages, so they remain
+savages. How do you like our barytone? He has sung his aria with
+delicious feeling.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>While the Duchess was indulging her unmeaning questions and comments, a
+rapid and careless glance at Mlle. de Chateaudun explained the
+admiration that she commanded from the crowded house. Were I to tell you
+that this young creature was a pretty, a beautiful woman, I would
+feebly express my meaning, such phrases mean nothing. It would require a
+master hand to paint a peerless woman, and I could not make the attempt
+when the bright image of Irene is now surrounded by the gloomy shadows
+of an afflicted heart.</p>
+
+<p>After the first exchange of insignificant words, the skirmish of a
+conversation, we talk as all talk who are anxious to appear ignorant of
+the fact that they are gazed upon by a whole assembly.</p>
+
+<p>Concealing my agitation under a strain of light conversation,
+&quot;Mademoiselle,&quot; I said, in answer to a question, &quot;music is to-day the
+necessity of the universe. France is commissioned to amuse the world.
+Suppress our theatre, opera, Paris, and a settled melancholy pervades
+the human family. You have no idea of the ennui that desolates the
+hemispheres.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Occasionally Paris enlivens the two Indias by dethroning a king. Once
+Calcutta was <i>in extremis</i>, it was dying of the blues; the East India
+company was rich but not amusing; with all its treasure it could not buy
+one smile for Calcutta, so Paris sent Robert le Diable, La Muette de
+Portici, a drama or two of Hugo and Dumas. Calcutta became convalescent
+and recovered. Its neighbor, Chandernagore, scarcely existed then, but
+in 1842, when I left the Isle de Bourbon, La Favorita was announced; it
+planted roses in the cheeks of the jaundiced inhabitants, and Madras,
+possessed by the spleen, was exorcised by William Tell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whenever a tropical city is conscious of approaching decline, she
+always stretches her hands beseechingly to Paris, who responds with
+music, books, newspapers; and her patient springs into new life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Paris does not seem to be aware of her influences. She detracts from
+herself; says she is not the Paris of yesterday, the Paris of the great
+century; that her influence is gone, she is in the condition of the
+Lower Empire.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She builds eighty leagues of fortifications to sustain the siege of
+Mahomet II. She weeps over her downfall and accuses Heaven of denying
+to her children of '44 the genius and talents that characterized the
+statesmen and poets of her past.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But happily the universe does not coincide with Paris; go ask it;
+having just come from there, I know it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Indulging my traveller's extravagancies laughingly, to the amusement of
+my fair companion, she said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Truly your philosophy is of the happy school, and the burden of life
+must be very light when it is so lightly borne.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must know, my dear Roger,&quot; said the Duchess, feigning
+commiseration, &quot;that my young cousin, Mlle. de Chateaudun, is pitiably
+unhappy, and you and I can weep over her lot in chorus with orchestral
+accompaniment; poor child! she is the richest heiress in Paris.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How wide you are from the mark!&quot; said Irene, with a charming look of
+annoyance in the brightest eye that ever dazzled the sober senses of
+man; &quot;it is not an axiom that wealth is happiness. The poor spread such
+a report, but the rich know it to be false.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Here the curtain arose, and my return to my box explained my character
+as the casual visitor and not the lover. And what intentions could I
+have had at that moment? I cannot say.</p>
+
+<p>I was attracted by the loveliness of Mlle. Chateaudun; chance gave the
+opportunity for studying her charms, the fair unknown improved on
+acquaintance. Hers was the exquisite grace of face and feature and
+winningness of manner which attracts, retains and is never to be
+forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>From the superb tranquillity of her attitude, the intelligence of her
+eyes, it was easy to infer that a wider field would bring into action
+the hidden treasures of a gifted nature. Over the dazzling halo that
+surrounded the fair one, which left me the alternative of admiring
+silence or heedless vagrancy of speech, one cloud lowered, eclipsing all
+her charms and bringing down my divinity from her pedestal&mdash;Irene was an
+heiress!</p>
+
+<p>The Duchess had clipped the wings of the angel with the phrase of a
+marriage-broker. An heiress! the idea of a beautiful woman, full of
+poetry and love, inseparately linked to pounds, shillings and pence!</p>
+
+<p>It was a day of amnesty to men, a f&ecirc;te day in Paradise, when God gave to
+this young girl that crown of golden hair, that seraphic brow, those
+eyes that purified the moral miasma of earth. The ideal of poetry, the
+reality of my love!</p>
+
+<p>Think of this living master-piece of the divine studio as the theme of
+money-changers, the prize of the highest bidder!</p>
+
+<p>Of course, my dear Edgar, I saw Mlle. de Chateaudun again and again
+after this memorable evening; thanks to the facilities afforded me by my
+manoeuvring kinswoman, the Duchess, who worshipped the heiress as I
+worshipped the woman, I could Add a useless volume of romantic details
+leading you to the denouement, which you have already guessed, for you
+must see in me the lover of Mlle. de Chateaudun.</p>
+
+<p>I wished to give you the beginning and end of my story; what do you care
+for the rest, since it is but the wearisome calendar of all lovers?&mdash;The
+journal of a thousand incidents as interesting and important to two
+people as they are stupid and ridiculous to every one else. Each day was
+one of progress; finally, we loved each other. Excuse the homely
+platitude in this avowal.</p>
+
+<p>Irene seemed perfect; her only fault, being an heiress, was lost in the
+intoxication of my love; everything was arranged, and in spite of her
+money I was to marry her.</p>
+
+<p>I was delirious with joy, my feet spurned the earth. My bliss was the
+ecstasy of the blest. My delight seemed to color the contentment of
+other men with gloom, and I felt like begging pardon for being so happy.
+It seemed that this valley of tears, astonished that any one should from
+a terrestrial paradise gaze upon its afflictions and still be happy,
+would revolt against me!</p>
+
+<p>My dear Edgar, the smoke of hell has darkened my vision&mdash;I grope in the
+gloom of a terrible mystery&mdash;Vainly do I strive to solve it, and I turn
+to you for aid.</p>
+
+<p>Irene has left Paris! Home, street, city, all deserted! A damp, dark
+nothingness surrounds me!</p>
+
+<p>Not an adieu! a line! a message! to console me&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Women do such things&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>I have done all in my power, and attempted the impossible to find Irene,
+but without success. If she only had some ground of complaint against
+me, how happy I would be.</p>
+
+<p>A terrible thought possesses my fevered brain&mdash;she has fallen into some
+snare, my marvellously beautiful Irene.</p>
+
+<p>Hide my sorrows, dear Edgar, from the world as I have hidden them.</p>
+
+<p>You would not have recognised the writer of this, had you seen him on
+the boulevard this morning. I was a superb dandy, with the poses of a
+Sybarite and the smiles of a young sultan. I trod as one in the clouds,
+and looked so benevolently on my fellow man that three beggars sued for
+aid as if they recognised Providence in a black coat. The last
+observation that reached my ear fell from the lips of an observing
+philosopher:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Heavens! how happy that young man must be!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Dear Edgar, I long to see you.</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='III'></a><h2>III.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+St. Dominique Street, Paris.<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, 20th May, 18&mdash;<br />
+
+<p>No, no, I cannot console you in Paris. I will escort your grief to
+Smyrna, Grand Cairo, Chandernagore, New Holland, if you wish, but I
+would rather be scalped alive than turn my steps towards that
+fascinating city surrounded by fortifications.</p>
+
+<p>Your elegy found me moderately impressible. Fortune has apparently
+always treated you like a spoiled child; were your misfortunes mine I
+should be delighted, and in your torment I should find a paradise. A
+disappearance afflicts you with agony. I was forced to beat a retreat
+once, but not from creditors; my debts are things of the past. You are
+fled from&mdash;I am pursued; and whatever you may say to the contrary, it is
+much more agreeable to be the dog than the hare.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! if the beauty that I adore (this is melo-dramatic) had only
+conceived such a triumphant idea! I should not be the one who&mdash;but no
+one knows when he is well off. This Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun pleases
+me, for by this opportune and ingenious eclipse she prevents you from
+committing a great absurdity. What put marriage into your head,
+forsooth! You who have housed with Bengal tigers and treated the lions
+of Atlas as lapdogs; who have seen, like Don Caesar de Bazan, women of
+every color and clime; how could you have centred your affections upon
+this Parisian doll, and chained the fancies of your cosmopolitan soul to
+the dull, rolling wheel of domestic and conjugal duty?</p>
+
+<p>So don't swear at her; bless her with a grateful heart, put a bill of
+credit in your pocket, and off we'll sail for China. We will make a hole
+in the famous wall, and pry into the secrets of lacquered screens and
+porcelain cups. I have a strong desire to taste their swallow-nest soup,
+their shark's fins served with jujube sauce, the whole washed down by
+small glasses of castor oil. We will have a house painted apple-green
+and vermilion, presided over by a female mandarin with no feet,
+circumflex eyes, and nails that serve as toothpicks. When shall I order
+the post-horses?</p>
+
+<p>A wise man of the Middle Empire said that we should never attempt to
+stem the current of events. Life takes care of itself. The loss of your
+fianc&eacute;e proves that you are not predestined for matrimony, therefore do
+not attempt to coerce chance; let it act, for perhaps it is the
+pseudonym of God.</p>
+
+<p>Thanks to this very happy disappearance, your love remains young and
+fresh; besides, you have, in addition to the Pleasures of Memory, the
+Pleasures of Hope (considered the finest work of the poet Campbell); for
+there is nothing to show that your divinity has been translated to that
+better world, where, however, no one seems over-anxious to go.</p>
+
+<p>Let not my retreat give rise to any unfavorable imputations against my
+courage. Achilles, himself, would have incontinently fled if threatened
+with the blessings in store for me. From what oriental head-dresses,
+burnous affectedly draped, golden rings after the style of the Empress
+of the Lower Empire, have I not escaped by my prudence?</p>
+
+<p>But this is all an enigma to you. You are in ignorance of my story,
+unless some too-well-posted Englishman hinted it to you in the temple of
+Elephanta. I will relate it to you by way of retaliation for the recital
+of your love affair with Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun.</p>
+
+<p>You have probably met that celebrated blue-stocking called the &quot;Romantic
+Marquise.&quot; She is handsome, so the painters say; and, perhaps, they are
+not far from right, for she is handsome after the style of an old
+picture. Although young, she seems to be covered with yellow varnish,
+and to walk surrounded by a frame, with a background of bitumen.</p>
+
+<p>One evening I found myself with this picturesque personage at Madame de
+Bl&eacute;ry's. I was listlessly intrenched in a corner, far from the circle of
+busy talkers, just sufficiently awake to be conscious that I was
+asleep&mdash;a delirious condition, which I recommend to your consideration,
+resembling the beginning of haschish intoxication&mdash;when by some turn in
+the conversation Madame de Bl&eacute;ry mentioned my name and pointed me out. I
+was immediately awakened from my torpor and dragged out of my corner.</p>
+
+<p>I have been weak enough at times, as Gubetta says, to jingle words at
+the end of an idea, or to speak more modestly, at the end of certain
+measured syllables. The Marquise, cognisant of the offence, but not of
+the extenuating circumstances, launched forth into praise and flattering
+hyperbole that lifted me to the level of Byron, Goethe, Lamartine,
+discovered that I had a satanic look, and went on so that I suspected an
+album.</p>
+
+<p>This affected me gloomily and ferociously. There is nothing I despise
+more than an album, unless it be two of them.</p>
+
+<p>To avoid any such attempt, I broke into the most of the conversation
+with several innocent provincialisms, and effected my retreat in a
+masterly manner; advancing towards the door by degrees, and reaching it,
+I sprang outside so suddenly and nimbly that I had gotten to the bottom
+of the stairs before my absence was discovered.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! no one can escape au album when it is predestined! The next day a
+book, magnificently bound in Russia, arrived in a superb moir&eacute; case in
+the hands of a groom, with an accompanying note from the Infanta
+soliciting the honor, &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>All great men have their antipathies. James I. could not look upon a
+glittering sword; Roger Bacon fainted at the sight of an apple; and
+blank paper fills me with melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>However, I resigned myself to the decrees of fate, and scribbled, I
+don't know what, in the corner, and subscribed my initials as illegible
+as those of Napoleon when in a passion.</p>
+
+<p>This, I flattered myself, was the end of the tragedy, but no: a few days
+afterwards I received an invitation to a select gathering, in such
+amiable terms that I resolved to decline it.</p>
+
+<p>Talleyrand said, &quot;Never obey your first impulse, because it is good;&quot; I
+obeyed this Machiavellian maxim, and erred!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Eucharis</i>&quot; was being performed at the opera; the sky was filled with
+ugly, threatening clouds; I sought in vain for a companion to get tight
+with, and moralize over a few bottles of wine, and so for want of a
+gayer occupation I went to the Marquise.</p>
+
+<p>Her apartments are a perfect series of catafalques, and seem to have
+been upholstered by an undertaker. The drawing-room is hung in violet
+damask; the bed-rooms in black velvet; the furniture is of ebony or old
+oak; crucifixes, holy-water basins, folio bibles, death's-heads and
+poniards adorned the enlivening interior. Several Zurbarans, real or
+false, representing monks and martyrs, hung on the walls, frightening
+visitors with their grimaces. These sombre tints are intended to
+contrast with the waxy cheeks and painted eyes of the lady who looks
+more like the ghost than the mistress of this dwelling; for she does not
+inhabit, she haunts it.</p>
+
+<p>You must not think, dear Roger, from this funereal introduction, that
+your friend became the prey of a ghoul or a vampire. The Marquise is
+handsome enough, after all. Her features are noble, regular, but a
+little Jewish, which induces her to wear a turban earlier and oftener
+than is necessary. She would not be so pale, if instead of white she put
+on red. Her hands, though too thin, are rather pretty and aristocratic,
+and weighted heavily with odd-looking rings. Her foot is not too large
+for her slipper. Uncommon thing! for women, in regard to their shoes,
+have falsified the geometrical axiom: the receptacle should be greater
+than its contents.</p>
+
+<p>She is, however, to a certain point, a gentlewoman, and holds a good
+position in society.</p>
+
+<p>I was received with all manner of caresses, stuffed with small cake,
+inundated with tea, of which beverage I hold the same opinion as Madame
+Gibou. I was assailed by romantic and transcendental dissertations, but
+possessing the faculty of abstraction and fixing my gaze upon the facets
+of a crystal flagon, my attitude touched the Marquise, who believed me
+plunged into a gulf of thought.</p>
+
+<p>In short, I had the misfortune to charm her, and the weakness, like the
+greater part of men, to surrender myself to my good or evil fortune;
+for this unhung canvas did not please me, and though tolerably stylish
+and pretty well preserved, I suspected some literature underneath, and
+closely scanned the edge of her dress to see if some azure reflection
+had not altered the whiteness of her stocking. I abhor women who take
+blue-ink baths. Alas! they are much worse than the avowed literary
+woman; she affects to talk of nothing but ribbons, dress and bonnets,
+and confidentially gives you a receipt for preserving lemons and making
+strawberry cream; they take pride in not ignoring housekeeping, and
+faithfully follow the fashions. At their homes ink, pen and paper are
+nowhere to be seen; their odes and elegies are written on the back of a
+bill or on a page torn from an account-book.</p>
+
+<p>La Marquise contemplates reform, romances, social poetry, humanitarian
+and palingenesic treatises, and scattered about on the tables and chairs
+were to be seen solemn old books, dog-leaved at their most tiresome
+pages, all of which is very appalling. Nothing is more convenient than a
+muse whose complete works are printed; one knows then what to expect,
+and you have not always the reading of Damocles hanging over your head.</p>
+
+<p>Dragged by a fatality that so often makes me the victim of women I do
+not admire, I became the Conrad, the Lara of this Byronic heroine.</p>
+
+<p>Every morning she sent me folio-sized epistles, dated three hours after
+midnight. They were compilations from Frederick Souli&eacute;, Eugene Sue, and
+Alexander Dumas, glorious authors, whom I delight to read save in my
+amorous correspondence, where a feminine mistake in orthography gives me
+more pleasure than a phrase plagiarised from George Sand, or a pathetic
+tirade stolen from a popular dramatist.</p>
+
+<p>In short, I do not believe in a passion told in language that smells of
+the lamp; and the expression &quot;<i>Je t'aime</i>&quot; will scarcely persuade me if
+it be not written &quot;<i>Je th&ecirc;me</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It made no difference how often the beauty wrote, I fortified myself
+against her literary visitations by consigning her billets-doux unopened
+to an empty drawer. By this means I was enabled to endure her prose
+with great equanimity. But she expected me to reply&mdash;now, as I did not
+care to keep my hand in for my next romance, I viewed her claims as
+extravagant and unreasonable, and feigning a strong desire to see my
+mother, I fled, less curious than Lot's wife, without looking behind.</p>
+
+<p>Had I not taken this resolution I should have died of ennui in that
+dimly-lighted house, among those sepulchral toys, in the presence of
+that pale phantom enveloped in a dismal wrapper, cut in the monkish
+style, and speaking in a trembling and languishing tone of voice.</p>
+
+<p>La Trappe or Chartreuse would have been preferable&mdash;I would have gained
+at least my salvation. Although it may be the act of a Cossack, a
+shocking irregularity, I have given her no sign of my existence, except
+that I told her that my mother's recovery promised to be very slow, and
+she would need the devoted attention of a good son.</p>
+
+<p>Judge, dear Roger, after this recital, of which I have subdued the
+horrors and dramatic situations out of regard to your sensibility,
+whether I could return to Paris to be the comforter in your sorrow. Yet
+I could brave an encounter with the Marquise were it not that I am
+retained in Normandy by an expected visit of two months from our friend
+Raymond. This fact certainly ought to make you decide to share our
+solitude. Our friend is so poetical, so witty, so charming. He has but
+one fault, that of being a civilized Don Quixote de la Mancha; instead
+of the helmet of Mambrino he wears a Gibus hat, a Buisson coat instead
+of a cuirass, a Verdier cane by way of a lance. Happy nature! in which
+the heart is not sacrificed to the intellect; where the subtlety of a
+diplomate is united to the ingenuousness of a child.</p>
+
+<p>Since your ideal has fled, are not all places alike to you? Then why
+should you not come to me, to Richeport, but a step from Pont de l'Arch?</p>
+
+<p>I am perched upon the bank of the river, in a strange old building,
+which I know will please you. It is an old abbey half in ruins, in which
+is enshrined a dwelling, with many windows at regular intrevals, and is
+surmounted by a slate roof and chimneys of all sizes. It is built of
+hewn stone, that time has covered with its gray leprosy, and the general
+effect, looking through the avenue of grand old trees, is fine. Here my
+mother dwells. Profiting by the walls and the half-fallen towers of the
+old enclosure, for the abbey was fortified to resist the Norman
+invasions, she has made upon the brow of the hill a garden terrace
+filled with roses, myrtles and orange trees, while the green boxes
+surrounding them replace the old battlements. In this quarter of the old
+domain, I have not interfered with any of these womanly fancies.</p>
+
+<p>She has collected around her all manner of pretty rusticities; all the
+comfortable elegancies she could imagine. I have not opposed any system
+of hot-air stoves, nor the upholstering of the rooms, nor objected to
+mahogany and ebony, wedgwood ware, china in blue designs, and English
+plate. For this is the way that middle-aged, and in fact, all reasonable
+people live.</p>
+
+<p>For myself, I have reserved the refectory and library of the brave
+monks, that is, all that overlooks the river. I have not permitted the
+least repairing of the walls, which present the complete flora of the
+native wild flowers. An arched door, closed by old boards covered with a
+remnant of red paint, and opening on the bank, serves me as a private
+entrance. A ferry worked by a rope and pulley establishes communication
+with an island opposite the abbey, which is verdant with a mass of
+osiers, elder bushes and willows. It is here also that my fleet of boats
+is moored.</p>
+
+<p>Seen from without, nothing would indicate a human habitation; the ruins
+lie in all the splendor of their downfall.</p>
+
+<p>I have not replaced one stone&mdash;walled up one lizard&mdash;the house-leek, St.
+John's-wort, bell-flower, sea-green saxifrage, woody nightshade and blue
+popion flower have engaged in a struggle upon the walls of arabesques,
+and carvings which would discourage the most patient ornamental
+sculptor. But above all, a marvel of nature attracts your admiring gaze:
+it is a gigantic ivy, dating back at least to Richard Coeur de Lion, it
+defies by the intricacy of its windings those geneological trees of
+Jesus Christ, which are seen in Spanish churches; the top touching the
+clouds, and its bearded roots embedded in the bosom of the patriarchal
+Abraham; there are tufts, garlands, clusters, cascades of a green so
+lustrous, so metallic, so sombre and yet so brilliant, that it seems as
+if the whole body of the old building, the whole life of the dead abbey
+had passed into the veins of this parasitic friend, which smothers with
+its embrace, holding in place one stone, while it dislodges two to plant
+its climbing spurs.</p>
+
+<p>You cannot imagine what tufted elegance, what richness of open-work
+tracery this encroachment of the ivy throws upon the rather gaunt and
+sharp gable-end of the building, which on this front has for ornament
+but four narrow-pointed windows, surmounted by three trefoil
+quadrilobes.</p>
+
+<p>The shell of the adjoining building is flanked at its angle by a turret,
+which is chiefly remarkable for its spiral stairway and well. The great
+poet who invented Gothic cathedrals would, in the presence of this
+architectural caprice, ask the question, &quot;Does the tower contain the
+well, or the well the tower?&quot; You can decide; you who know everything,
+and more besides&mdash;except, however, Mlle. de Chateaudun's place of
+concealment.</p>
+
+<p>Another curiosity of the old building is a moucharaby, a kind of balcony
+open at the bottom, picturesquely perched above a door, from which the
+good fathers could throw stones, beams and boiling oil on the heads of
+those tempted to assault the monastery for a taste of their good fare
+and a draught of their good wine.</p>
+
+<p>Here I live alone, or in the company of four or five choice books, in a
+lofty hall with pointed roof; the points where the ribs intersect being
+covered with rosework of exquisite delicacy. This comprises my suite of
+apartments, for I never could understand why the little space that is
+given one in this world to dream, to sleep, to live, to die in, should
+be divided into a set of compartments like a dressing-case. I detest
+hedges, partitions and walls like a phalansterian.</p>
+
+<p>To keep off dampness I have had the sides of the market-house, as my
+mother calls it, wainscoted in oak to the height of twelve or fifteen
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>By a kind of gallery with two stairways, I can reach the windows and
+enjoy the beauty of the landscape, which is lovely. My bed is a simple
+hammock of aloes-fibre, slung in a corner; very low divans, and huge
+tapestry arm-chairs, for the rest of the furniture. Hung up on the
+wainscoting are pistols, guns, masks, foils, gloves, plastrons,
+dumb-bells and other gymnastic equipments. My favorite horse is
+installed in the opposite angle, in a box of <i>bois des iles</i>, a
+precaution that secures him from the brutalizing society of grooms, and
+keeps him a horse of the world.</p>
+
+<p>The whole is heated by a cyclopean chimney, which devours a load of wood
+at a mouthful, and before which a mastodon might be roasted.</p>
+
+<p>Come, then, dear Roger, I can offer you a friendly ruin, the chapel with
+the trefoil quadrilobes.</p>
+
+<p>We will walk together, axe in hand, through my park, which is as dense
+and impenetrable as the virgin forests of America, or the jungles of
+India. It has not been touched for sixty years, and I have sworn to
+break the head of the first gardener who dares to approach it with a
+pruning-hook.</p>
+
+<p>It is glorious to see the abandonment of Nature in this extravagance of
+vegetation, this wild luxuriance of flowers and foliage; the trees
+stretch out their arms, breed and intertwine in the most fantastic
+manner; the branches make a hundred curiously-distorted turns, and
+interlace in beautiful disorder; sometimes hanging the red berries of
+the mountain-ash among the silver foliage of the aspen.</p>
+
+<p>The rapid slope of the ground produces a thousand picturesque accidents;
+the grass, brightened by a spring which at a little distance plays a
+thousand pranks over the rocks, flourishes in rich luxuriance; the
+burdock, with large velvet leaves, the stinging nettles, the hemlock
+with greenish umbels; the wild oats&mdash;every weed prospers wonderfully. No
+stranger approaches the enclosure, whose denizens are two or three
+little deer with tawny coats gleaming through the trees.</p>
+
+<p>This eminently romantic spot would harmonize with your melancholy. Mlle.
+de Chateaudun not being in Paris, you have better chance of finding her
+elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>Who knows if she has not taken refuge in one of these pretty
+bird's-nests embedded in moss and foliage, their half-open blinds
+overlooking the limpid flow of the Seine? Come quickly, my dear fellow;
+I will not take advantage of your position as I did of Alfred's, to
+overwhelm you from my moucharaby with a shower of green frogs, a miracle
+which he has not been able to explain to his entire satisfaction. I will
+show you an excellent spot to fish for white-bait; nothing calms the
+passions so much as fishing with rod and line; a philosophical
+recreation which fools have turned into ridicule, as they do everything
+else they do not understand.</p>
+
+<p>If the fish won't bite, you can gaze at the bridge, its piers blooming
+with wild flowers and lavender; its noisy mills, its arches obstructed
+by nets; the church, with its truncated roof; the village covering the
+hill-side, and, against the horizon, the sharp line of woody hills.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='IV'></a><h2>IV.</h2>
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS <i>to</i> M. EDGAR DE MEILHAN,<br />
+Richeport, near Pont de l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+GRENOBLE, Hotel of the Prefecture, May 22d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Do not expect me, dear Edgar, I shall not be at Richeport the 24th. When
+shall I? I cannot tell.</p>
+
+<p>I write to you from a bed of pain, bruised, wounded, burnt, half dead.
+It served me right, you will say, on learning that I am here for the
+commission of the greatest crime that can be tried before your tribunal.
+It is only too true&mdash;I have saved the life of an ugly woman!</p>
+
+<p>But I saved her at night, when I innocently supposed her beautiful&mdash;let
+this be the extenuating circumstance. That no delay may attend your
+decision, here is the whole story.</p>
+
+<p>Travel from pole to pole&mdash;wander to and fro over the world, it is not
+impossible, by God's help, to escape the thousand and one annoyances
+that are scattered over the surface of this terraqueous globe, but it is
+impossible, go where you will, to evade England, the gayest nation to be
+found, especially in travelling.</p>
+
+<p>At Rome, this winter, Lord K. told me seriously that he had set out from
+London, some years since, with the one object of finding some corner of
+the earth on which no foot had ever trod before, and there to fix the
+first glorious impress of a British boot. The English occasionally, for
+amusement, indulge in such notions.</p>
+
+<p>After having examined a scale of the comparative heights of the
+mountains of the universe, he noted the two highest points. Lord K.
+first reached the Peruvian Andes, and began to climb the sides of
+Chimborazo with that placidity, that sang-froid, which is the
+characteristic of an elevated soul instinctively attracted to realms
+above.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the summit with torn feet and bleeding hands, he was about to
+fix a conqueror's grasp upon the rock, when he saw in one of the
+crevices a heap of visiting-cards, placed there successively, during a
+half century, by two or three hundred of his compatriots.</p>
+
+<p>Disappointed but not discouraged, Lord K. drew from his case a shining,
+satiny card, and having gravely added it to the many others, began to
+descend Chimborazo with the same coolness and deliberation that he had
+climbed up.</p>
+
+<p>Half way down he found himself face to face with Sir Francis P., about
+to attempt the ascent that Lord K. had just accomplished. Although
+alienated by difference of party, they were old friends, dating their
+acquaintance, I believe, from the University of Oxford.</p>
+
+<p>Without appearing astonished at so unexpected an encounter, they bowed
+politely, and on Chimborazo, as in politics, went their separate ways.</p>
+
+<p>Betrayed by the New World, Lord K. directed his steps towards the Old.
+He penetrated the heart of Asia, plunged into the Dobrudja region, and
+paused only at the foot of Tschamalouri, upon the borders of Bootan. It
+is fair that I should thus visit on you the formidable erudition
+inflicted upon me by Milord.</p>
+
+<p>You must know, then, dear Edgar, that the Tschamalouri is the highest
+peak of the Himalayan group.</p>
+
+<p>The Jungfrau, Mount Blanc, Mount Cervin, and Mount Rosa, piled one upon
+the other, would make at best but a stepping-stone to it. Judge, then,
+of Milord's transports in the presence of this giant, whose hoary head
+was lost in the clouds! They might rob him of Chimborazo, but
+Tschamalouri was his.</p>
+
+<p>After a few days for repose and preparation, one fine morning at
+sunrise, behold Milord commencing the ascent, with the proud
+satisfaction of a lover who sees his rival dancing attendance in the
+antechamber while he glides unseen up the secret stairway with a key to
+the boudoir in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>He journeyed up, and on the first day had passed the region of
+tempests. Passing the night in his cloak, he began again his task at the
+dawn of day.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing dismayed him&mdash;no obstacle discouraged him. He bounded like a
+chamois from ridge to ridge, he crawled like a snake and hung like a
+vine from the sharp ar&ecirc;tes&mdash;wounds and lacerations covered his
+body&mdash;after scorching he froze. The eagles whirled about his head and
+flapped their wings in his face. But on he went. His lungs, distended by
+the rarified atmosphere, threatened to burst with an explosion akin to a
+steamboat's. Finally, after superhuman efforts, bleeding, panting,
+gasping for breath, Milord sank exhausted upon the rocks.</p>
+
+<p>What a labor! but what a triumph! what a struggle! but what a conquest!
+The thought of being able, the coming winter, to boast of having carved
+his name where, until then, God alone had written his.</p>
+
+<p>And Sir Francis! who would not fail to plume himself on the joint favors
+of Chimborazo, how humiliated he would be to learn that Lord K., more
+fastidious in his amours, more exalted in his ambition, had not, four
+thousand fathoms above sea, feared to pluck the rose of Tschamalouri!</p>
+
+<p>I remember that the first night I passed in Rome I heard in my sleep a
+mysterious voice murmuring at my pillow: &quot;Rome! Rome! thou art in Rome!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Milord, shattered, sore and helpless, also heard a charming voice
+singing sweetly in his ear: &quot;Thou art stretched full length upon the
+summit of Tschamalouri.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This melody insensibly affected him as the balm of Fier-&agrave;-Bras. He
+rallied, he arose, and with radiant face, sparkling eyes and bosom
+swelling with pride, drew a poniard from its sheath and prepared to cut
+his name upon the rock. Suddenly he turned pale, his limbs gave way
+under him, the knife dropped from his grasp and fell blunted upon the
+rocks. What had he seen? What could have happened to so agitate him in
+these inaccessible regions?</p>
+
+<p>There, upon the tablet of granite where he was about to inscribe the
+name of his ancestors, he read, unhappy man, distinctly read, these two
+names distinctly cut in the flint, &quot;William and Lavinia,&quot; with the
+following inscription, in English, underneath: &quot;Here, July 25th, 1831,
+two tender hearts communed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Surmounting the whole was a flaming double heart pierced by an arrow, an
+arrow that then pierced three hearts at once. The rock was covered
+besides with more than fifty names, all English, and as many
+inscriptions, all English too, of a kindred character to the one he had
+read. Milord's first impulse was to throw himself head foremost down the
+mountain side; but, fortunately, raising his eyes in his despair, he
+discovered a final plateau, so steep that neither cat nor lizard could
+climb it. Lord K. became a bird and flew up, and what did he see? Oh,
+the vanity of human ambition! Upon the last round of the most gigantic
+ladder, extending from earth to heaven, Milord perceived Sir Francis,
+who, having just effected the same ascent from the other side of the
+colossus, was quietly reading the &quot;Times&quot; and breakfasting upon a chop
+and a bottle of porter!</p>
+
+<p>The two friends coolly saluted each other, as they had before done on
+the side of Chimborazo; then, with death in his heart, but impassive and
+grave, Lord K. silently drew forth a box of conserves, a flask of ale
+and a copy of the &quot;Standard.&quot; The repast and the two journals being
+finished, the tourists separated and descended, each on his own side,
+without having exchanged a word.</p>
+
+<p>Lord K. has never forgiven Sir Francis; they accuse each other of
+plagiarism, a mortal hatred has sprung up between them, and thus
+Tschamalouri finished what politics began.</p>
+
+<p>I had this story from Lord K. himself, who drags out a disenchanted and
+gloomy existence, which would put an end to itself had he not in present
+contemplation a journey to the moon; still he is half convinced that he
+would find Sir Francis there.</p>
+
+<p>Entertain your mother with this story, it would be improved by your
+narration.</p>
+
+<p>You must agree with me that if the English grow four thousand fathoms
+above the sea, the plant must necessarily thrive on the plains and the
+low countries. It is acclimated everywhere, like the strawberry, without
+possessing its sweet savor.</p>
+
+<p>Italy is, I believe, the land where it best flourishes. There I have
+traversed fields of English, sown everywhere, mixed with a few Italians.</p>
+
+<p>But I would have been happy if I had encountered only Englishmen along
+my route. Some poet has said that England is a swan's nest in the midst
+of the waves. Alas! how few are the swans that come to us at long
+intervals, compared with the old ostriches in bristling plumage, and the
+young storks with their long, thin necks that flock to us.</p>
+
+<p>When in Rome only a few hours, and wandering through the Campo Vaccino,
+I found among the ruins one I did not seek. It was Lady Penock. I had
+met her so often that I could not fail to know her name. Edgar, you know
+Lady Penock; it is impossible that you should not. But if not, it is
+easy for you to picture her to yourself. Take a keepsake, pick out one
+of those faces more beautiful than the fairies of our dreams, so lovely
+that it might be doubted whether the painter found his model among the
+daughters of earth. Passionate lover of form, feast your eye upon the
+graceful curve of that neck, those shoulders; gaze upon that pure brow
+where grace and youth preside; bathe your soul in the soft brightness of
+that blue and limpid glance; bend to taste the perfumed breath of that
+smiling mouth; tremble at the touch of those blonde tresses, twined in
+bewildering mazes behind the head and falling over the temples in waving
+masses; fervent worshipper at the shrine of beauty, fall into ecstasies;
+then imagine the opposite of this charming picture, and you have Lady
+Penock.</p>
+
+<p>This apparition, in the centre of the ancient forum, completely upset my
+meditations. J.J. Rousseau says in his Confessions that he forgot Mme.
+de Larnage in seeing the Pont du Gard. So I forgot the Coliseum at the
+sight of Lady Penock. Explain, dear Edgar, what fatality attended my
+steps, that ever afterwards this baleful beauty pursued me?</p>
+
+<p>Under the arches of the Coliseum, beneath the dome of St. Peter, in
+Pagan Rome and in Catholic Rome, in front of the Laoc&ouml;on, before the
+Communion of St. Jerome, by Dominichino, on the banks of Lake Albano,
+under the shades of the Villa Borghese, at Tivoli in the Sibyl's temple,
+at Subiaco in the Convent of St. Benoit, under every moon and by every
+sun I saw her start up at my side. To get away from her I took flight
+and travelled post to Tuscany. I found her at the foot of the falls of
+Terni, at the tomb of St. Francis d'Assise, under Hannibal's gate at
+Spoletta, at the table d'hote Perouse at Arezzo, on the threshold of
+Petrarch's house; finally, the first person I met in the Piazza of the
+Grand Duke at Florence, before the Perseus of Benvenuto Cellini, Edgar,
+was Lady Penock. At Pisa she appeared to me in the Campo Santo; in the
+Gulf of Genoa her bark came near capsizing mine; at Turin I found her at
+the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities; her and no one else! And, what was
+so amusing, my Lady on seeing me became agitated, blushed and looked
+down, and believing herself the object of an ungovernable passion, she
+mumbled through her long teeth, &quot;Shocking! Shocking!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Tired of war, I bade adieu to Italy and crossed the mountains; besides,
+dear country, I sighed to see you once more. I passed through Savoy and
+when I saw the mountains of Dauphiny loom up against the distant horizon
+my heart beat wildly, my eyes filled with tears, and I felt like a
+returning exile, and know not what false pride restrained me from
+springing to the ground and kissing the soil of France!</p>
+
+<p>Hail! noble and generous land, the home of intelligence and of liberty!
+On touching thee the soul swells within us, the mind expands; no child
+of thine can return to thy bosom without a throb of holy joy, a feeling
+of noble pride. I passed along filled with delirious happiness. The
+trees smiled on me, the winds whispered softly in my ear, the little
+flowers that carpeted the wayside welcomed me; it required an effort to
+restrain myself from embracing as brothers the noble fellows that passed
+me on the way.</p>
+
+<p>Then, Edgar, I was to find you again, and it was the spot of my
+birthplace, the paternal acres which in our common land seem to us a
+second country.</p>
+
+<p>The night was dark, no moon, no stars; I had just left Grenoble and was
+passing through Voreppe, a little village not without some importance
+because in the neighborhood of the Grande Chartreuse, which, at this
+season of the year, attracts more curiosity-hunters than
+believers&mdash;suddenly the horses stopped, I heard a rumbling noise
+outside, and a crimson glare lighted up the carriage windows. I might
+have taken it for sunset, if the sun had not set long since.</p>
+
+<p>I got out and found the only inn of the village on fire; great was the
+confusion in the small hamlet, there was a general screaming, struggling
+and running about. The innkeeper with his wife, children, and servants
+emptied the stables and barns. The horses neighed, the oxen bellowed,
+and the pigs, feeling that they were predestined to be roasted anyhow,
+offered to their rescuers an obstinate and philosophical resistance.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime the notables of the place, formed in groups, discussed
+magisterially the origin of a fire which no one made an effort to stay.
+Left alone, it brightened the night, fired the surrounding hills and
+shot its jets and rockets of sparks far into the sky. You, a poet, would
+have thought it fine. Sublime egotist that you are, everything is
+effect, color, mirages, decorations. Endeavoring to make myself useful
+in this disaster, I thought I heard it whispered around me that some
+travellers remained in the inn, who, if not already destroyed, were
+seriously threatened.</p>
+
+<p>Among others a young stranger was mentioned who had come that day from
+the Grande Chartreuse, which she had been visiting. I went straight to
+the innkeeper who was dragging one of his restive pigs by the tail,
+reminding me of one of the most ridiculous pictures of Charlet. &quot;All
+right,&quot; said the man, &quot;all the travellers are gone, and as to those who
+remain&mdash;&quot; &quot;Then some do remain?&quot; I asked, and by insisting learned that
+an Englishwoman occupied a room in the second story.</p>
+
+<p>I hate England&mdash;I hate it absurdly, in true, old-fashioned style. To me
+England is still &quot;Perfidious Albion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>You may laugh, but I hate in proportion to the love I bear my country. I
+hate because my heart has always bled for the wounds she has opened in
+the bosom of France. Yes, but coward is he who has the ability to save a
+fellow-creature, yet folds his arms, deaf to pity! My enemy in the jaws
+of death is my brother. If need be I would jump into the flood to save
+Sir Hudson Lowe, free to challenge him afterwards, and try to kill him
+as I would a dog.</p>
+
+<p>The ground-floor of the inn was enveloped in flames. I took a ladder,
+and resting it against the sill, I mounted to the window that had been
+pointed out to me. On the hospitable soil of France a stranger must not
+perish for want of a Frenchman to save him. Like Anthony, with one blow
+I broke the glass and raised the sash; I found myself in a passage that
+the fire had not reached. I sprang towards a door.&mdash;an excited voice
+said, &quot;Don't come in.&quot; I entered, looked around for the young stranger,
+and, immortal gods! what did I see? In the charming n&eacute;glig&eacute; of a beauty
+suddenly awakened,&mdash;you are right, it was she. Yes, my dear fellow, it
+was Lady Penock&mdash;Lady Penock, who recognised and screamed furiously!
+&quot;Madame,&quot; said I, turning away with a sincere and proper feeling of
+respect, &quot;you are mistaken. The house is on fire, and if you do not
+leave it&quot;&mdash;&quot;You! you!&quot; she cried, &quot;have set fire to it, like Lovelace,
+to carry me off.&quot; &quot;Madame,&quot; said I, &quot;we have no time to lose.&quot; The floor
+smoked under our feet, the rafters cracked over our heads, the flames
+roared at the door, delay was dangerous; so, in spite of the eternal
+refrain that sounded like the crying of a bird,&mdash;&quot;Shocking! shocking!&quot; I
+dragged Lady Penock from behind the bed where she cowered to escape my
+wild embraces, picked her up as if she were a stick of dry wood, and
+bearing the precious burden, appeared at the top of the ladder.
+Meanwhile the fire raged, the flames and the smoke enveloped us on all
+sides. &quot;For pity's sake, madame,&quot; said I, &quot;don't scream and kick so.&quot; My
+lady screamed all the louder and struggled all the worse. When half way
+down the ladder she said, &quot;Young man, go back immediately, I have
+forgotten something very valuable to me.&quot; At these words the roof fell
+in, the walls crumbled away, the ladder shook, the earth opened under my
+feet, and I felt as if I were falling into the abyss of Taenarus.</p>
+
+<p>I awoke, under an humble roof whose poor owner had received me.</p>
+
+<p>I had a fracture of my shoulder, and three doctors by my side. I have
+known many men to die with less. As for Lady Penock, I learned with
+satisfaction of her escape, barring a sprained ankle; she had departed
+indignant at the impertinence of my conduct, and to the people who had
+charitably suggested to her to instal herself as a gray nun at the
+bedside of her preserver, she said, coloring angrily, &quot;Oh, I should die
+if I were to see that young man again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Be reassured, France has again atoned for Albion. My adventure having
+made some noise, a few days after the fire Providence came into my room
+and sat beside my bed in the shape of a noble woman named Madame de
+Braimes.</p>
+
+<p>It appears that M. de Braimes has been, for a year past, prefect of
+Grenoble; that he knew my father intimately, and my name sufficed to
+bring these two noble beings to my side.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as I could bear the motion of a carriage, they took me from
+Voreppe, and I am now writing to you, my dear Edgar, from the hotel of
+the Prefecture.</p>
+
+<p>I received in Florence the last letter you directed to me at Rome. What
+a number of questions you ask, and how am I to answer them all?</p>
+
+<p>Don't speak to me of Jerusalem, Cedron, Lebanon, Palmyra and Baalbec, or
+anything of the sort. Read over again R&eacute;n&eacute;'s Guide-book, Jocelyn's
+Travels, the Orientales of Olympio, and you will know as much about the
+East as I do, though I have been there, according to your account, for
+the last two years. However, I have performed all the commissions you
+gave me, on the eve of my departure, three years ago. I bring you pipes
+from Constantinople, to your mother chaplets from Bethlehem&mdash;only I
+bought the pipes at Leghorn, and the chaplets at Rome.</p>
+
+<p>Do you remember a cold, rainy December evening in Paris, eighteen months
+ago, when I should have been on the borders of Afghanistan, or the
+shores of the Euphrates, you were walking along the quays, between
+eleven o'clock and midnight, walking rapidly, wrapped like a Castilian
+in the folds of your cloak?</p>
+
+<p>Do you remember that between the Pont Neuf and the Pont Saint Michel you
+stumbled against a young man, enveloped likewise in a cloak, and
+following rapidly the course of the Seine in a direction opposite to
+yours? The shock was violent, and nailed us both to the spot. Do you
+remember that having scrutinized each other under the gaslight, you
+exclaimed, &quot;Raymond,&quot; and opened your arms to embrace me; then, seeing
+the cold and reserved attitude of him who stood silently before you, how
+you changed your mind and went your way, laughing at the mistake but
+struck by the resemblance?</p>
+
+<p>The resemblance still exists; the young man that you called Raymond, was
+Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>One more story, and I have done. I will tell it without pride or
+pretence, a thing so natural, so simple, that it is neither worth
+boasting of nor concealing.</p>
+
+<p>You know Frederick B. You remember that I have always spoken of him as a
+brother. We played together in the same cradle; we grew up, as it were,
+under the same roof. At school I prepared his lessons: out of gratitude
+he ate my sugar-plums. At college I performed his tasks and fought his
+battles. At twenty, I received a sword-thrust in my breast on his
+account. Later he plunged into matrimony and business, and we lost sight
+of, without ceasing to love each other. I knew that he prospered, and I
+asked nothing more. As for myself, tired of the sterile life I was
+leading, called fashionable life, I turned my fortune into ready money,
+and prepared to set out on a long journey.</p>
+
+<p>The day of my departure&mdash;I had bidden you good-bye the evening
+before&mdash;Frederick entered my room. A year had nearly passed since we
+had met; I did not know that he was in Paris. I found him changed; his
+preoccupied air alarmed me. However, I concealed my anxiety. We cannot
+treat with too much reserve and delicacy the sadness of our married
+friends. As he talked, two big tears rolled silently down his cheeks. I
+had to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter?&quot; I asked abruptly; and I pressed him with
+questions, tormented him until he told me all. Bankruptcy was at his
+door; and he spoke of his wife and children in such heart-rending terms,
+that I mingled my tears with his, thinking of course that I was not rich
+enough to give him the money he needed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My poor Frederic,&quot; I finally said, &quot;is it such a very large amount?&quot; He
+replied with a gesture of despair. &quot;Come, how much?&quot; I asked again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Five hundred thousand francs!&quot; he cried, in a gloomy stupor. I arose,
+took him by the arm, and under the pretext of diverting him, drew him on
+the boulevards. I left him at the door of my notary and joined him on
+coming out. &quot;Frederick,&quot; I said, giving him a line I had just written,
+&quot;take that and hasten to embrace your wife and children.&quot; Then I jumped
+into a cab which carried me home; my journey was over. I returned from
+Jerusalem.</p>
+
+<p>Dupe! I hear you say, Ah, no, Edgar! I am young and I understand men,
+but there dwell in them both the good and the beautiful, and to expect
+to derive any other satisfaction than that found in cultivating these
+qualities has always seemed to me to be an unreasonable expectation.</p>
+
+<p>What! you, as a poet, enjoy the intoxication of inspiration, the feast
+of solitude, the silence of serene and starry nights and that does not
+satisfy you; you would have fortune hasten to the sound of the Muses'
+kisses.</p>
+
+<p>What! as a generous man, you can enjoy the delights of giving and only
+sow a field of benefits in the hope of reaping some day the golden
+harvest of gratitude!</p>
+
+<p>Of what do you complain? wretched man! You are the ingrate. Besides,
+even with this view, be convinced, dear Edgar, that the good and the
+beautiful are still two of the best speculations that can be made here
+below, and nothing in the world succeeds better than fine verses and
+noble deeds. Only wicked hearts and bad poets dare to affirm the
+contrary. For myself, experience has taught me that self-abnegation is
+profit enough to him who exercises it, and disinterestedness is a
+blossom of luxury that well cultivated bears most savory fruit. I
+encountered fortune in turning my back on her. I owe to Lady Penock the
+touching care and precious friendship of Madame de Braimes, and if this
+system of remuneration continue I shall end by believing that in
+throwing myself into the gulf of Curtius I would fall upon a bed of
+roses.</p>
+
+<p>The fact is, I was ruined, but whoever could have seen me at the moment
+would have said I was overcome with delight. I must tell you all, Edgar;
+I pictured to myself the transports of Frederick and his wife on seeing
+the abyss that was about to engulf them so easily closed; these sweet
+images alone did not cause my wild delight; would you believe it, the
+thought of my ruin and poverty intoxicated me more. I had suffered for a
+long time from an unoccupied youth, and was indignant at my uneventful
+life. At twenty I quietly assumed a position prepared for me; to play
+this part in the world I had taken the trouble to be born; to gather the
+fruits of life I had only to stretch out my hand. Irritated at the
+quietude of my days, wearied with a happiness that cost me nothing, I
+sought heroic struggles, chivalrous encounters, and not finding them in
+a well-regulated society, where strong interests have been substituted
+for strong passions, I fretted in secret and wept over my impotence.</p>
+
+<p>But now my hour was come! I was about to put my will, strength and
+courage to the proof. I was about to wrest from study the secrets of
+talent. I was about to reclaim from labor the fortune I had given away,
+and which I owed to chance. Until that deed I had only been the son of
+my father, the heir of my ancestors; now I was to become the child of my
+own deeds. The prisoner who sees his chains fall off and sends to
+heaven a wild shout of liberty, does not feel a deeper joy than I felt
+when ready to struggle with destiny I could exclaim, &quot;I am poor!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I have seen everywhere <i>blas&eacute;</i> young men, old before their time, who,
+according to their own account, have known and exhausted every pleasure;
+have felt the nothingness of human things. 'Tis true these young
+unfortunates have tried everything but labor and devotion to some holy
+cause.</p>
+
+<p>There remained of my patrimony fifteen thousand francs, which were laid
+aside to defray my travelling expenses. This, with a very moderate
+revenue accruing from two little farms, contiguous to the castle of my
+father, made up my possessions.</p>
+
+<p>Putting the best face on things, supposing I might recover my fortune,
+an event so uncertain that it were best not to count on it, I wisely
+traced the line of duty with a firm hand and joyous heart.</p>
+
+<p>I decided immediately that I would not undeceive my friends as to my
+departure, and that I would employ, in silence and seclusion, the time I
+was supposed to be spending abroad.</p>
+
+<p>Not that it did not occur to me to proclaim boldly what I had done, for
+in a country where a dozen wretches are every year publicly beheaded for
+the sake of example, perhaps it would be well also, for example's sake,
+to do good publicly. To do this, however, would have been to compromise
+Frederick's credit, who, besides, would never have accepted my sacrifice
+if he could have measured its extent.</p>
+
+<p>I could have retired to my estates; but felt no inclination to make an
+exposure of my poverty to the comments of a charitable province; nor had
+I taste for the life of a ruined country squire.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, solitude was essential to my plans, and solitude is impossible
+out of Paris; one is never really lost save in a crowd. I soon found in
+the Masario a little room very near the clouds, but brightened by the
+rising sun, overlooking a sea of verdure marked here and there by a few
+northern pines, with their gloomy and motionless branches.</p>
+
+<p>This nest pleased me. I furnished it simply, filled it with books and
+hung over my bed the portrait of my sainted mother, who seemed to smile
+on and encourage me, while you, Frederick and others believed me
+steaming towards the shores of the East; and here I quietly installed
+myself, prouder and more triumphant than a soldier of fortune taking
+possession of a kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>Edgar, these two years I really lived&mdash;. In that little room I spent
+what will remain, I very much fear, the purest, the brightest, the best
+period of my whole life. I am not of much account now, formerly I was
+nothing; the little good that is in me was developed in those two years
+of deep vigils. I thought, reflected, suffered and nourished myself with
+the bread of the strong. I initiated myself into the stern delights of
+study, the austere joys of poverty.</p>
+
+<p>O! days of labor and privation, beautiful days! Where have you gone?
+Holy enchantments, shall I ever taste you again? Silent and meditative
+nights! when at the first glimmer of dawn I saw the angel of revery
+alight at my side, bend his beautiful face over me, and fold my wearied
+limbs in his white wings; blissful nights! will you ever return?</p>
+
+<p>If you only knew the life I led through these two years! If you knew
+what dreams visited me in that humble nest by the dim light of the lamp,
+you would be jealous of them, my poet!</p>
+
+<p>The days were passed in serious study. At evening I took my frugal
+repast, in winter, by the hearth, in summer by the open window. In
+December I had guests that kings might have envied. Hugo, George Sand,
+Lamartine, De Musset, yourself, dear Edgar. In April I had the soft
+breezes, the perfume of the lilacs, the song of the birds warbling among
+the branches, and the joyous cries of the children playing in the
+distant alleys, while the young mothers passed slowly through the fresh
+grass, their faces wreathed with sweet smiles, like the happy shadows
+that wander through the Elysian fields.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes on a dark night I would venture into the streets of Paris, my
+hat drawn over my eyes to keep out the glare of gas. On one of these
+solitary rambles I met you. Imagine the courage I required not to rush
+into your open arms. I returned frequently along the quays, listening to
+the confused roar, like the distant swell of the ocean, made by the
+great city before falling to sleep, listening to the murmurs of the
+river and gazing at the moon like a burning disk from the furnace,
+slowly rising behind the towers of Notre Dame.</p>
+
+<p>Often I prowled under the windows of my friends, stopping at yours to
+send you a good-night.</p>
+
+<p>Returning home I would rekindle my fire and begin anew my labors,
+interrupted from time to time by the bells of the neighboring convents
+and the sound of the hours striking sadly in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>O! nights more beautiful than the day. It was then that I felt germinate
+and flourish in my heart a strange love.</p>
+
+<p>Opposite me, beyond the garden that separated us, was a window, in a
+story on a level with mine; it was hid during the day by the tall pines,
+but its light shone clear and bright through the foliage. This lamp was
+lit invariably at the same hour every evening and was rarely
+extinguished before dawn. There, I thought, one of God's poor creatures
+works and suffers. Sometimes I rose from my desk to look at this little
+star twinkling between heaven and earth, and with my brow pressed
+against the pane gazed sadly at it.</p>
+
+<p>In the beginning it excited me to watch, and I made it a point of honor
+never to extinguish my lamp as long as the rival lamp was burning; at
+last it became the friend of my solitude, the companion of my destiny. I
+ended by giving it a soul to understand and answer me. I talked to it; I
+questioned. I sometimes said, &quot;Who art thou?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now I imagined a pale youth enamored with glory, and called him my
+brother. Then it was a young and lovely Antigone, laboring to sustain
+her old father, and I called her my sister, and by a sweeter name too.
+Finally, shall I tell you, there were moments when I fancied that the
+light of our fraternal lamps was but the radiance of two mysterious
+sympathies, drawn together to be blended into one.</p>
+
+<p>One must have passed two years in solitude to be able to comprehend
+these puerilities. How many prisoners have become attached to some
+wall-flower, blooming between the bars of their cell, like the Marvel of
+Peru of the garden, which closes to the beams of day to open its petals
+to the kisses of the evening; the flower that I loved was a star.
+Anxiously I watched its awakening, and could not repose until it had
+disappeared. Did it grow dim and flicker, I cried&mdash;&quot;Courage and hope!
+God blesses labor, he keeps for thee a purer and brighter seat in
+heaven!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Did I in turn feel sad, it threw out a brighter light and a voice said,
+&quot;Hope, friend, I watch and suffer with thee!&quot; No! I cannot but believe
+now that between that lamp and mine there passed an electric current, by
+which two hearts, created for each other, communicated with and
+understood their mutual pulsations. Of course I tried to find the house
+and room from whence shone my beloved light, but each day I received a
+new direction that contradicted the one they gave before; so I concluded
+that the occupant of this room had an object, like myself, in
+concealment, and I respected his secret.</p>
+
+<p>Thus my life glided by&mdash;so much happiness lasted too short a time!</p>
+
+<p>The gods and goddesses of Olympus had a messenger named Iris, who
+carried their billets-doux from star to star. We mortals have a fairy in
+our employ that leaves Iris far behind; this fairy is called the post;
+dwell upon the summit of Tschamalouri, and some fine morning you will
+see the carrier arrive with his box upon his shoulder, and a letter to
+your address. One evening, on returning from one of those excursions I
+told you of, I found at my porter's a letter addressed to me. I never
+receive letters without a feeling of terror. This, the only one in two
+years, had a formidable look; the envelope was covered with odd-looking
+signs, and the seal of every French consulate in the East; under this
+multitude of stamps was written in large characters&mdash;&quot;In haste&mdash;very
+important.&quot; The square of paper I held in my hand had been in search of
+me from Paris to Jerusalem, and from consulate to consulate, had
+returned from Jerusalem to Paris, to the office of the Minister of
+Foreign Affairs. There they had let loose some blood-hounds of the
+police, who with their usual instinct followed my tracks and discovered
+my abode in less than a day.</p>
+
+<p>I glanced first at the signature, and saw Frederick's name; I vow,
+unaffectedly, that for two years I had not thought of his affairs, and
+his letter brought me the first news of him.</p>
+
+<p>After a preamble, devoted entirely to the expression of an exaggerated
+gratitude, Frederick announced with a flourish of trumpets, that Fortune
+had made magnificent reparation for her wrongs to him; he had saved his
+honor and strengthened his tottering credit. From which time forward he
+had prospered beyond his wildest hopes. In a few months he gained, by a
+rise in railroad stocks, fabulous sums. He concluded with the
+information that, having interested me in his fortunate speculations, my
+capital was doubled, and that I now possessed a clear million, which I
+owed to no one. At the end of this letter, bristling with figures and
+terms that savoured of money, were a few simple, touching lines from
+Frederick's wife, which went straight to my heart, and brought tears to
+my eyes.</p>
+
+<p>When I had read the letter through, I took a long survey of my little
+room, where I had lived so happily; then, sitting upon the sill of the
+open window, whence I could see my faithful star shine peacefully in the
+darkness, I remained until morning, absorbed in sad and melancholy
+thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Fortune has its duties as well as poverty. <i>Comme noblesse, fortune
+exige</i>.</p>
+
+<p>If I were really so rich, I could not, ought not to live as I had done.
+After a few days, I went to Frederick, who believed that I had suddenly
+been brought from Jerusalem by his letter, and I allowed him to rest in
+that belief, not wishing to add to a gratitude that already seemed
+excessive.</p>
+
+<p>Excuse the particulars, I was a veritable millionaire; I call Heaven to
+witness that my first impulse was to go in search of my beloved beacon,
+to relieve, if possible, the unfortunate one to whom it gave light.</p>
+
+<p>But then I thought so industrious a being was certainly proud, and I
+paused, fearing to offend a noble spirit.</p>
+
+<p>One month later, a night in May, I saw extinguished one by one, the
+thousand lights of the neighboring houses. Two single lamps burned in
+the gloom; they were the two old friends. For some time I stood gazing
+at the bright ray shining through the foliage, and when I felt upon my
+brow the first chill of the morning breeze, I cried in my saddened
+heart,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Farewell! farewell, little star, benign ray, beloved companion of my
+solitude! At this hour to-morrow, my eyes will seek but find thee not.
+And thou, whosoever thou art, working and suffering by that pale gleam,
+adieu, my sister! adieu, my brother! pursue thy destiny, watch and pray;
+may God shorten the time of thy probation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I bade also to my little room, not an eternal farewell, for I have kept
+it since, and will keep it all my life. I do not wish that while I live
+strangers shall scare away such a covey of beautiful dreams as I left in
+that humble nest.</p>
+
+<p>To see it again is one of the liveliest pleasures that my return to
+Paris offers. I shall find everything in the same order as when I left;
+but will the little star shine from the same corner of the heavens?</p>
+
+<p>Thanks to Frederick's care my affairs were in order, and I set out
+immediately for Rome, because when one is expected from the end of the
+world one must at least return from somewhere.</p>
+
+<p>Such is, dear Edgar, the history of my journeys and my love affairs.
+Keep them sacred. We are all so worthless, that, when one of us does
+some good by chance, he should remain silent for fear of humiliating his
+neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>My health once established, I shall go to my mountains of Creuse and
+then come to you. Do not expect me until July; at that time Don Quixote
+will make his appearance under the apple trees of Richeport, provided,
+however, he is not caught up on this route by Lady Penock or some
+windmill.</p>
+
+<p>RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='V'></a><h2>V.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,<br />
+Richeport,<br />
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, 24th May, 18&mdash;,<br />
+
+<p>Your letter did me good, my dear Edgar, because it came unexpected, from
+the domain of epistolary consolation. From any friend but you I would
+have received a sympathizing re-echo of my own accents of despair. From
+you I looked for a tranquillizing sedative, and you surprise me with a
+reanimating restorative.</p>
+
+<p>Your charming philosophy has indeed invented for mortals a remedy
+unknown to the four faculties.</p>
+
+<p>Thanks to you, I breathe freely this morning. 'Tis necessary for us to
+take breath during ardent crises of despair. A deep breath brings back
+the power of resignation to our hearts. Yet I am not duped by your too
+skilful friendship. I clearly perceive the interest you take in my
+situation in spite of your artistically labored adroitness to conceal
+it. This knowledge induces me to write you the second chapter of my
+history, quite sure that you will read it with a serious brow and answer
+it with a smiling pen.</p>
+
+<p>Young people of your disposition, either from deep calculation or by
+happy instinct, substitute caprice for passion; they amuse themselves by
+walking by the side of love, but never meet it face to face. For them
+women exist, but never one woman. This system with them succeeds for a
+season, sometimes it lasts for ever. I have known some old men who made
+this scheme the glory of their lives, and who kept it up from mere force
+of habit till their heads were white.</p>
+
+<p>You, my dear Edgar, will not have the benefit of final impenitence. At
+present the ardor of your soul is tempered by the suave indolence of
+your disposition.</p>
+
+<p>Love is the most merciless and wearisome of all labors, and you are far
+too lazy to toil at it. When you suddenly look into the secret depths
+of your <i>self</i>, you will be frightened by discovering the germ of a
+serious passion; then you will try to escape on the wings of fancy to
+the realms of easy and careless pleasure. The fact of my having
+penetrated, unknown to you, this secret recess of your soul, makes me
+venture to confide my sorrows to you; continue to laugh at them, your
+railing will be understood, while friendship will ignore the borrowed
+mask and trust in the faithful face beneath.</p>
+
+<p>Paris is still a desert. The largest and most populous city becomes
+obscure and insignificant at your feet when you view it from the heights
+of an all-absorbing passion. I feel as isolated as if I were on the
+South Sea or on the sands of Sahara. Happily our bodies assume
+mechanical habits that act instead of the will. Without this precious
+faculty of matter my isolation would lead me to a dreamy and stupid
+immobility. Thus, in the eyes of strangers, my life is always the same.
+They see no change in my manners and appearance; I keep up my
+acquaintances and pleasures and seek the society of my friends. I have
+not the heart to join a conversation, but leave it to be carried on by
+others. My fixed attention and absorbed manner of listening convey the
+idea that I am deeply interested in what is being said, and he who
+undertakes to relate anything to me is so satisfied with my style of
+listening that he prolongs to infinity his monologue. Then my thoughts
+take flight and travel around the world; to the seas, archipelagoes,
+continents and deserts I have visited. These are the only moments of
+relief that I enjoy, for I have the modesty to refrain from thinking of
+my love in the presence of others. I still possess enough innocence of
+heart to believe that the four letters of this sweetest of all words
+would be stamped on my brow in characters of fire, thus betraying a
+secret that indifference responds to with pitying smiles or heartless
+jeers.</p>
+
+<p>The thousand memories sown here and there in my peregrinations pass so
+vividly before me, that, standing in the bright sunlight, with eyes
+open, I dream over again those visions of my sleepless nights in foreign
+lands.</p>
+
+<p>Thought, ever-rebellious thought, which the most imperious will can
+neither check nor guide, begins to wander over the world, thus kindly
+granting a truce to the torments of my passions; then it works to suit
+my wishes, a complaisance it never shows me when I am alone. I am
+indebted for this relief to the officious and loquacious intervention of
+the first idler I meet, one whose name I scarcely know, although he
+calls me his friend. I always gaze with a feeling of compassionate
+benevolence upon the retreating steps of this unfortunate gossip, who
+leaves with the idea of having diverted me by his monologue to which my
+eyes alone have listened. As a general thing, people whom you meet have
+started out with one dominant idea or engrossing subject, and they
+imagine that the universe is disposed to attach the same importance to
+the matter that they themselves do. These expectations are often
+gratified, for the streets are filled by hungry listeners who wander
+around with ears outstretched, eager to share any and everybody's
+secrets.</p>
+
+<p>A serious passion reveals to us a world within a world. Thus far, all
+that I have seen and heard seems to be full of error; men and things
+assume aspects under which I fail to recognise them. It seems as though
+I had yesterday been born a second time, and that my first life has left
+me nothing but confused recollections, and in this chaos of the past, I
+vainly seek for a single rule of conduct for the present. I have dipped
+into books written on the passions; I have read every sentence,
+aphorism, drama, tragedy and romance written by the sages; I have sought
+among the heroes of history and of the stage for the human expression of
+a sentiment to which my own experience might respond, and which would
+serve me as a guide or consolation.</p>
+
+<p>I am, as it were, in a desert island where nothing betrays the passage
+of man, and I am compelled to dwell there without being able to trace
+the footsteps of those who have gone before. Yesterday I was present at
+the representation of the <i>Misanthrope</i>. I said to myself, here is a man
+in love; his character is drawn by a master hand, they say; he listens
+to sonnets, hums a little song, disputes with a bad author, discourses
+at length with his rivals, sustains a philosophical disputation with a
+friend, is churlish to the woman he loves, and finally is consoled by
+saying he will hide himself from the eyes of the world.</p>
+
+<p>I would erect, at my own expense, a monument to Moli&egrave;re if Alceste would
+make my love take this form.</p>
+
+<p>I have never seen an inventory of the torments of love&mdash;some of them
+have the most vulgar and some the most innocent names in the world. Some
+poet make his love-sick hero say:&mdash;</p>
+
+&quot;Un jour, Dieu, par piti&eacute;, d&eacute;livra les enfers<br />
+Des tourments que pour vous, madame, j'ai soufferts!&quot;<br />
+
+<p>I thought the poet intended to develop his idea, but unfortunately the
+tirade here ends. 'Tis always very vague, cloudy poetry that describes
+unknown torments; it seems to be a popular style, however, for all the
+poetry of the present day is confined to misty complaints in cloudy
+language. No moralist is specific in his sorrows. All lovers cry out in
+chorus that they suffer horribly. Each suffering deserves an analysis
+and a name. By way of example, my dear Edgar, I will describe one
+torment that I am sure you have never known or even heard of, happy
+mortal that you are!</p>
+
+<p>The headquarters of this torment is at the office of the Poste-Restante,
+on Jean-Jacques-Rousseau street. The lovers in <i>la Nouvelle H&eacute;loise</i>
+never mentioned this place of torture, although they wrote so many
+love-letters.</p>
+
+<p>I have opened a correspondence with three of my servants&mdash;this
+torture, however, is not the one to which I allude. These three men, at
+this present moment, are sojourning in the three neighboring towns in
+which Mlle. de Chateaudun has acquaintances, relations or friends. One
+of these towns is Fontainebleau, where she first went when she left
+Paris. I have charged them to be very circumspect in obtaining all the
+information they can concerning her movements. Her mysterious retreat
+must be in one of these three localities, so I watch them all. I told
+them to direct all my letters to the Poste-Restante.</p>
+
+<p>My porter, with the cunning sagacity of his profession, imagines he has
+discovered some scandalous romance, because he brings me every day a
+letter in the handwriting of my valet. You may imagine the complication
+of my torment. I am afraid of my porter, therefore I go myself to the
+post-office, that receptacle of all the secrets of Paris.</p>
+
+<p>Usually the waiting-room is full of wretched men, each an epistolary
+Tantalus, who, with eyes fixed on the wooden grating, implore the clerk
+for a post-marked deception. 'Tis a sad spectacle, and I am sure that
+there is a post-office in purgatory, where tortured souls go to inquire
+if their deliverance has been signed in heaven.</p>
+
+<p>The clerks in the post-office never seem to be aware of the impatient
+murmurs around them. What administrative calmness beams on the fresh
+faces of these distributors of consolation and of despair! In the agony
+of waiting, minutes lose their mathematical value, and the hands of the
+clock become motionless on the dial like impaled serpents. The
+operations of the office proceed with a slowness that seems like a
+miniature eternity. This anxious crowd stand in single file, forming a
+living chain of eager notes of interrogation, and, as fate always
+reserves the last link for me, I have to witness the filing-off of these
+troubled souls. This office brings men close together, and obliterates
+all social distinctions; in default of letters one always receives
+lessons of equality gratis.</p>
+
+<p>Here you see handsome young men whose dishevelled locks and pale faces
+bear traces of sleepless nights&mdash;the Damocles of the Bourse, who feels
+the sword of bankruptcy hanging over his head&mdash;forsaken sweethearts,
+whose hopes wander with beating drums upon African shores&mdash;timid women
+veiled in black, weeping and mourning for the dead, so as to smile more
+effectively upon the living.</p>
+
+<p>If each person were to call out the secret of his letter, the clerks
+themselves would veil their faces and forget the postal alphabet. A
+painful silence reigns over this scene of anxious waiting; at long
+intervals a hoarse voice calls out his Christian name, and woe to its
+owner if his ancestors have not bequeathed him a short or easily
+pronounced one.</p>
+
+<p>The other day I was present at a strange scene caused by the association
+of seven syllables. An unhappy-looking wretch went up to the railing and
+gave out his name&mdash;<i>Sidoine Tarboriech</i>&mdash;these two words inflicted on us
+the following dialogue:&mdash;&quot;Is it all one name?&quot; asked the clerk, without
+deigning to glance at the unfortunate owner of these syllables. &quot;Two
+names,&quot; said the man, timidly, as if he were fully aware of the disgrace
+inflicted upon him at the baptismal font. &quot;Did you say <i>Antoine</i>?&quot; said
+the clerk. &quot;Sidoine, Monsieur.&quot; &quot;Is it your Christian name?&quot; &quot;'Tis the
+name of my godfather, Saint Sidoine, 23 of August.&quot; &quot;Ah! there is a
+Saint Sidoine, is there? Well, Sidoine ... Sidoine&mdash;what else?&quot;
+&quot;Tarboriech.&quot; &quot;Are you a German?&quot; &quot;From Toulon, opposite the Arsenal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>During this dialogue the rest of the unfortunates broke their chain with
+convulsive impatience, and made the floor tremble under the nervous
+stamping of their feet. The clerk calmly turned over with his
+methodically bent finger, a large bundle of letters, and would
+occasionally pause when the postal hieroglyphics effaced an address
+under a total eclipse of crests, seals and numbers recklessly heaped on;
+for the clerk who posts and endorses the letters takes great pains to
+cover the address with a cloud of ink, this little peculiarity all
+postmen delight in. But to return to our dialogue: &quot;Excuse me, sir,&quot;
+said the clerk, &quot;did you say your name is spelt with <i>Dar</i> or <i>Tar</i>?&quot;
+&quot;<i>Tar,</i> sir, <i>Tar!</i> &quot;&mdash;&quot;With a <i>D?</i>&quot;&mdash;&quot;No, sir, with a <i>T.,
+Tarboriech!</i>&quot; &quot;We have nothing for you, sir.&quot; &quot;Oh, sir, impossible!
+there certainly <i>must</i> be a letter for me.&quot; &quot;There is no letter, sir;
+nothing commencing with T.&quot; &quot;Did you look for my Christian name,
+Sidoine?&quot; &quot;But, sir, we don't arrange the mail according to Christian
+names.&quot; &quot;But you know, sir, I am a younger son, and at home I am called
+Sidoine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This interesting dialogue was now drowned by the angry complaining of
+some young men, who in a state of exasperation stamped up and down the
+room jerking out an epigrammatic psalm of lamentations. I'll give you a
+few verses of it: &quot;Heavens! some names ought to be suppressed! This is
+getting to be intolerable, when a man has the misfortune to be named
+<i>Extasboriech</i>, he ought <i>not</i> to have his letters sent to the
+<i>Poste</i>-Restante! If I were afflicted with such a name, I would have the
+Keeper of the Seals to change it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The imperturbable clerk smiled blandly through his little barred window,
+and said, &quot;Gentlemen, we must do our duty scrupulously, I only do for
+this gentleman what each of you would wish done for yourself under
+similar circumstances.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, of course!&quot; cried out one young man, who was wildly buttoning and
+unbuttoning his coat as if he wanted to fight the subject through; &quot;but
+we are not cursed with names so abominable as this man's!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gentlemen,&quot; said the clerk, &quot;no offensive personalities, I beg.&quot; Then
+turning to the miserable culprit, he continued: &quot;Can you tell me, sir,
+from what place you expect a letter?&quot; &quot;From Lavalette, monsieur, in the
+province of Var.&quot; &quot;Very good; and you think that perhaps your Christian
+name only is on the address&mdash;Sidoine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My cousin always calls me Sidoine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His cousin is right,&quot; said a sulky voice in the corner.</p>
+
+<p>This, my dear Edgar, is a sample of the non-classified tortures that I
+suffer every morning in this den of expiation, before I, the last one of
+all, can reach the clerk's sanctuary; once there I assume a careless air
+and gay tone of voice as I negligently call out my name. No doubt you
+think this a very simple, easy thing to do, but first listen a moment: I
+felt the &quot;Star&quot; gradually sinking under me near the Malouine Islands,
+the sixty-eighth degree of latitude kept me a prisoner in its sea of ice
+at the South Pole; I passed two consecutive days and nights on board the
+<i>Esmerelda</i>, between fire and inundation; and if I were to extract the
+quintessence of the agonies experienced upon these three occasions it
+could never equal the intense torture I suffer at the Poste-Restante.
+Three seals broken, three letters opened, three overwhelming
+disappointments! Nothing! nothing! nothing! Oh miserable synonym of
+despair! Oh cruel type of death! Why do you appear before me each day
+as if to warn my foolish heart that all hope is dead! Then how dreary
+and empty to me is this cold, unfeeling world we move in! I feel
+oppressed by the weight of my sorrowful yearning that hourly grows more
+unbearable and more hopeless; my lungs seem filled with leaden air, and
+all the blood in my heart stands still. In thinking of the time that
+must be dragged through till this same hour to-morrow, I feel neither
+the strength nor courage to endure it with its intolerable succession of
+eternal minutes. How can I bridge over this gulf of twenty-four hours
+that divides to-day from to-morrow? How false are all the ancient and
+modern allegories, invented to afflict man with the knowledge that his
+days are rapidly passing away! How foolish is that wisdom that mourns
+over our fugitive years as being nothing but a few short minutes! I
+would give all my fortune to be able to write the <i>Hora Fugit</i> of the
+poet, and offer for the first time to man these two words as an axiom of
+immutable truth.</p>
+
+<p>There is nothing absolutely true in all the writings of the sages.
+Figures even, in their inexorable and systematic order, have their
+errors just as often as do words and apothems. An hour of pain and an
+hour of pleasure have no resemblance to each other save on the dial.
+<i>My</i> hours are weary years.</p>
+
+<p>You understand then, my dear Edgar, that I write you these long letters,
+not to please you, but to relieve my own mind. In writing to you I
+divert my attention from painful contemplation, and expatriate my ideas.
+A pen is the only instrument capable of killing time when time wishes to
+kill us. A pen is the faithless auxiliary of thought; unknown to us it
+sometimes penetrates the secret recesses of our hearts, where we
+flattered ourselves the horizon of our sorrows was hid from the world.</p>
+
+<p>Thus, if you discover in my letter any symptoms of mournful gayety, you
+may know they are purely pen-fancies. I have no connection with them
+except that my fingers guide the pen.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes I determine to abandon Paris and bury myself in some rural
+retreat, where lonely meditation may fill my sorrowing heart with the
+balm of oblivion; but in charity to myself I wish to avoid the absurdity
+of this self-deception. Nothing is more hurtful than trying a useless
+remedy, for it destroys your confidence in all other remedies, and fills
+your soul with despair. Then, again, Paris is peculiarly fitted for
+curing these nameless maladies&mdash;'tis the modern Thebais, deserted
+because 'tis crowded&mdash;silent because 'tis noisy; there, every man can
+pitch his tent and nurse his favorite sorrows without being disturbed by
+intruders. Solitude is the worst of companions when you wish to drown
+the past in Lethe's soothing stream. However, 'tis useless for me to
+reason in this apparently absurd way in order to compel myself to remain
+in the heart of this great city, for I cannot and must not quit Paris at
+present; 'tis the central point of my operations; here I can act with
+the greatest efficacy in the combinations of my searches&mdash;to leave Paris
+is to break the threads of my labyrinth. Besides, my duties as a man of
+the world impose cruel tortures upon me; if fate continues to work
+against me and I am compelled to retire from the world, the consolation
+of having escaped these social tortures will be mine; so you see, after
+all, there is a silver lining to my dark cloud. When we cannot attain
+good we can mitigate the evil.</p>
+
+<p>Last Thursday Countess L. opened the season with an unusual event&mdash;a
+betrothment ball. Her select friends were invited to a sort of rehearsal
+of the wedding party; her beautiful cousin is to be married to our young
+friend Didier, whom we named Scipio Africanus. Marshal Bugeaud has given
+him a six-months' leave, and healed his wounded shoulder with a
+commander's epaulette.</p>
+
+<p>Now, I know you will agree with me that my presence was necessary at
+this ball. I nerved myself for this new agony, and arrived there in the
+middle of a quadrille. Never did a comedian, stepping on the stage,
+study his manner and assume a gay look with more care than I did as I
+entered the room. I glided through the figures of the dance, and reached
+the further end of the ball-room which was filled with gossiping
+dowagers. Now I began to play my r&ocirc;le of a happy man.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody knows I am weak enough to enjoy a ball with all the passion
+of a young girl, therefore I willingly joined the dancers. I selected a
+sinfully ugly woman, so as to direct my devotions to the antipodes of
+beauty&mdash;the more unlike Irene the better for me. My partner possessed
+that charming wit that generally accompanies ideal ugliness in a woman.
+We talked, laughed, danced with foolish gayety&mdash;each note of the music
+was accompanied by a witticism&mdash;we exchanged places and sallies at the
+same time&mdash;we invented a new style of conversation, very preferable to
+the dawdling gossip of a drawing-room. There is an exhilaration
+attending a conversation carried on with your feet flying and
+accompanied by delightful music; every eye gazed at us; every ear, in
+the whirl of the dance, almost touched our lips and caught what we said.
+Our gayety seemed contagious, and the whole room smiled approval. My
+partner was radiant with joy; the fast moving of her feet, the
+excitement of her mind, the exaltation of triumph, the halo of wit had
+transfigured this woman; she positively appeared handsome!</p>
+
+<p>For one instant I forgot my despair in the happy thought that I had just
+done the noblest deed of my life; I had danced with a wall-flower, whose
+only crime was her ugliness, and had changed her misery into bliss by
+rendering her all the intoxicating ovations due only to beauty.</p>
+
+<p>But alas! there was a fatal reaction awaiting me. Glancing across the
+room I intercepted the tender looks of two lovers, looks of mutual love
+that brought me back to my own misery, and made my heart bleed afresh at
+the thought that love like this might have been mine! What is more
+touchingly beautiful than the sight of a betrothed couple who exist in a
+little world of their own, and, ignoring the indifferent crowd around
+them, gaze at each other with such a wealth of love and trust in the
+future! I brought this image of a promised but lost happiness home with
+me. Oh! if I could blame Irene I would console myself by flying in a fit
+of legitimate anger! but this resource fails me&mdash;I can blame no one but
+myself. Irene knows not how dear she is to me, I only half told her of
+my love,&mdash;I flattered myself that I had a long future in which to prove
+my devotion by deeds instead of words. Had she known how deeply I loved
+her, she never could have deserted me.</p>
+
+Your unhappy friend,<br />
+ROGER DE MONBERT.<br />
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='VI'></a><h2>VI.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+St. Dominique Street (Paris).<br />
+<br />
+Richeport, May 26th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Dear Roger:&mdash;You have understood me. I did not wish to annoy you with
+hackneyed condolences or sing with you an elegiac duet; but I have not
+the less sympathized with your sorrows; I have even evolved a system out
+of them. Were I forsaken, I should deplore the blindness of the
+unfortunate creature who could renounce the happiness of possessing me,
+and congratulate myself upon getting rid of a heart unworthy of me.
+Besides, I have always felt grateful to those benevolent beauties who
+take upon themselves the disagreeable task of breaking off an
+engagement. At first, there is a slight feeling of wounded self-love,
+but as I have for some time concluded that the world contains an
+infinity of beings endowed with charms superior to mine, it only lasts a
+moment, and if the scratch bleed a little, I consider myself indemnified
+by a tirade against woman's bad taste. Since you do not possess this
+philosophy, Mlle. de Chateaudun must be found, at any cost; you know my
+principles: I have a profound respect for any genuine passion. We will
+not discuss the merits or the faults of Irene; you desire her, that
+suffices; you shall have her, or I will lose the little Malay I learnt
+in Java when I went to see those dancing-girls, whose preference has
+such a disastrous effect upon Europeans. Your secret police is about to
+be increased by a new spy; I espouse your anger, and place myself
+entirely at the service of your wrath. I know some of the relatives of
+Mlle. de Chateaudun, who has connections in the neighboring departments,
+and in your behalf I have beaten about the ch&acirc;teaux for many miles
+around. I have not yet found what I am searching for; but I have
+discovered in the dullest houses a number of pretty faces who would ask
+nothing better, dear Roger, than to console you, that is if you are not,
+like Rachel, refusing to be comforted; for if there be no lack of women
+always ready to decoy a successful lover, some can, also, be found
+disposed to undertake the cure of a profound despair; these are the
+services which the best friends cheerfully render. I will only permit
+myself to ask you one question. Are you sure, before abandoning yourself
+to the violence of an invisible grief, that Mlle. de Chateaudun has ever
+existed? If she exists, she cannot have evaporated! The diamond alone
+ascends entire to heaven and disappears, leaving no trace behind. One
+cannot abstract himself, in this way, like a quintessence from a
+civilized centre; in 18&mdash;the suppression of any human being seems to me
+impossible. Mademoiselle Irene has been too well brought up to throw
+herself into the water like a grisette; if she had done so, the zephyrs
+would have borne ashore her cloak or her umbrella; a woman's bonnet,
+when it comes from Beaudrand, always floats. Perhaps she wishes to
+subject you to some romantic ordeal to see if you are capable of dying
+of grief for her; do not gratify her so far. Double your serenity and
+coolness, and, if need be, paint like a dowager; it is necessary to
+sustain before these affected dames the dignity of the uglier sex of
+which we have the honor of forming a part. I approve the position you
+have taken. The Pale Faces should bear moral torture with the same
+impassiveness with which the Red Skins endure physical torture.</p>
+
+<p>Roaming about in your interests, I had the beginning of an adventure
+which I must recount to you. It does not relate to a duchess, I warn
+you; I leave those sort of freaks to republicans. In love-making, I
+value beauty solely, it is the only aristocracy I look for; pretty women
+are baronesses, charming ones countesses; beauties become marchionesses,
+and I recognise a queen by her hands and not by her sceptre, by her brow
+and not by her crown. Such is my habit. Beyond this I am without
+prejudice; I do not disdain princesses provided they are as handsome as
+simple peasants.</p>
+
+<p>I had a presentiment that Alfred intended paying me a visit, and with
+that wonderful acuteness which characterizes me, I said to myself: If he
+comes here, hospitality will force me to endure the agony of his
+presence as long as he pleases to impose it upon me, a torture forgotten
+in Dante's Hell; if I go to see him the situation is reversed. I can
+leave under the first indispensable pretext, that will not fail to offer
+itself, three days after my arrival, and I thus deprive him of all
+motive for invading my wigwam at Richeport. Whereupon I went to Nantes,
+where his relatives reside, with whom he is passing the summer.</p>
+
+<p>At the expiration of four hours I suddenly remembered that most urgent
+business recalled me to my mother; but what was my anguish, when I saw
+my execrable friend accompany me to the railroad station, in a traveling
+suit, a cap on his head, a valise under his arm! Happily, he was going
+to Havre by way of Rouen, and I was relieved from all fear of invasion.</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture, my dear friend, endeavor to tear yourself away, for a
+moment, from the contemplation of your grief, and take some interest in
+my story. To so distinguished a person as yourself it has at least the
+advantage of beginning in an entirely homely and prosaic manner. I
+should never have committed the error of writing you anything
+extraordinary; you are surfeited with the incredible; the supernatural
+is a twice-told tale; between you and the marvellous secret affinities
+exist; miracles hunt you up; you find yourself in conjunction with
+phenomena; what never happens has happened to you; and in the world that
+you, in every sense, have wandered o'er, no novelty offers itself but
+the common-place.</p>
+
+<p>The first time you ever attempted to do anything like other people&mdash;to
+marry&mdash;you failed. Your only talent is for the impossible; therefore, I
+hope that my recital, a little after the style of Paul de Kock's
+romances, an author admired by great ladies and kitchen girls, will give
+you infinite surprise and possess all the attraction and freshness of
+the unknown.</p>
+
+<p>There were already two persons in the compartment into which the
+conductor hurried us; two women, one old and the other young.</p>
+
+<p>To prevent Alfred from playing the agreeable, I took possession of the
+corner fronting the youngest, leaving to my tiresome friend the freezing
+perspective of the older woman.</p>
+
+<p>You know I have no fancy for sustaining what is called the honor of
+French gallantry&mdash;a gallantry which consists in wearying with ill-timed
+attention, with remarks upon the rain and the fine weather, interlarded
+with a thousand and one stupid rhymes, the women forced by circumstances
+to travel alone.</p>
+
+<p>I settled myself in my corner after making a slight bow on perceiving
+the presence of women in the car, one of whom evidently merited the
+attention of every young commercial traveler and troubadour. I set
+myself to examine my vis-a-vis, dividing my attention between
+picturesque studies and studies physiognomical.</p>
+
+<p>The result of my picturesque observations was that I never saw so many
+poppies before. Probably they were the red sparks from the locomotive
+taking root and blooming along the road.</p>
+
+<p>My physiognomical studies were more extended, and, without flattering
+myself, I believe Lavater himself would have approved them.</p>
+
+<p>The cowl does not make the friar, but dress makes the woman. I shall
+begin by giving you an extremely detailed description of the toilet of
+my incognita. This is an accustomed method, which proves that it is a
+good one, since everybody makes use of it. My fair unknown wore neither
+a bark blanket fastened about her waist, nor rings in her nose, nor
+bracelets on her ankles, nor rings on her toes, which must appear
+extraordinary to you.</p>
+
+<p>She wore, perhaps, the only costume that your collection lacks, that of
+a Parisian grisette. You, who know by heart the name of every article of
+a Hottentot's attire, who are strong upon Esquimaux fashions and know
+just how many rows of pins a Patagonian of the haut ton wears in her
+lower lip, have never thought of sketching such an one.</p>
+
+<p>A well-approved description of a grisette should commence with her foot.
+The grisette is the Andalouse of Paris; she possesses the talent of
+being able to pass through the mire of Lutetia on tiptoe, like a dancer
+who studies her steps, without soiling her white stockings with a single
+speck of mud. The manolas of Madrid, the cigaretas of Seville in their
+satin slippers are not better shod; mine&mdash;pardon the anticipation of
+this possessive pronoun&mdash;put forward from under the seat an
+irreproachable boot and aristocratically turned ankle. If she would give
+me that graceful buskin to place in my museum beside the shoe of
+Carlotta Grisi, the Princess Houn-Gin's boot and Gracia of Grenada's
+slipper, I would fill it with gold or sugar-plums, as she pleased.</p>
+
+<p>As to her dress, I acknowledge, without any feeling of mortification,
+that it was of mousseline; but the secret of its making was preserved by
+the modiste. It was tight and easy at the same time, a perfect fit
+attained by Palmyre in her moments of inspiration; a black silk
+mantilla, a little straw bonnet trimmed plainly with ribbon, and a green
+gauze veil, half thrown back, completed the adornment, or rather absence
+of ornament, of this graceful creature.</p>
+
+<p>Heavens! I had like to have forgotten the gloves! Gloves are the weak
+point of a grisette's costume. To be fresh, they must be renewed often,
+but they cost the price of two days' work. Hers were, O horror!
+imitation Swedish, which truth compels me to value at nineteen
+ha'-pennies, or ninety-five centimes, to conform to the new monetary
+phraseology.</p>
+
+<p>A worsted work-bag, half filled, was placed beside her. What could it
+hold? Some circulating library novel? Do not be uneasy, the bag only
+contained a roll and a paper of bonbons from Boissier, dainties which
+play an important part in my story.</p>
+
+<p>Now I must draw you an exact sketch of this pretty Parisian's face&mdash;for
+such she was. A Parisian alone could wear, with such grace, a
+fifteen-franc bonnet.</p>
+
+<p>I abhor bonnets; nevertheless, on some occasions, I am forced to
+acknowledge that they produce quite a pleasing effect. They represent a
+kind of queer flower, whose core is formed of a woman's head; a
+full-blown rose, which, in the place of stamens and pistils, bears
+glances and smiles.</p>
+
+<p>The half-raised veil of my fair unknown only exposed to view a chin of
+perfect mould, a little strawberry mouth and half of her nose, perhaps
+three-quarters. What pretty, delicately turned nostrils, pink as the
+shells of the South Sea! The upper part of the face was bathed in a
+transparent, silvery shadow, under which the quiver of the eyelids might
+be imagined and the liquid fire of her glance. As to her cheeks&mdash;you
+must await the succession of events if you desire more ample
+description; for the ears of her bonnet, drawn down by the strings,
+concealed their contour; what could be seen of them was of a delicate
+rose color. Her eyes and hair will form a special paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>Now that you are sufficiently enlightened upon the subject of the
+perspective which your friend enjoyed on the cars between Mantes and
+Pont-de-l'Arche, I will pass to another exercise, highly recommended in
+rhetorical treatises, and describe, by way of a set-off and contrast,
+the female monster that served as shadow to this ideal grisette.</p>
+
+<p>This frightful companion appeared very suspicious. Was she the duenna,
+the mother or an old relative? At any rate she was very ugly, not
+because her head was like a stone mask with spiral eyebrows, and lips
+slashed like the fossa of a heraldic dolphin, but vulgarity had stamped
+the mask, making its features common, coarse and dull. The habit of
+servile compliance had deprived them of all true expression; she
+squinted, her smile was vaguely stupid, and she wore an air of spurious
+good-nature, indicative of country birth; a dark merino dress, cloak of
+sombre hue, a bonnet under which stood out the many ruffles of a rumpled
+cap, completed the attire of the creature.</p>
+
+<p>The grisette is a gay, chattering bird, which at fifteen escapes from
+the nest never to return; it is not her custom to drag about a mother
+after her, this is the special mania of actresses who resort to all
+sorts of tricks ignored by the proud and independent grisette. The
+grisette seems instinctively to know that the presence of an old woman
+about a young one exerts an unhealthy influence. It suggests sorcery and
+the witches' vigil; snails seek roses only to spread their slime over
+them, and old age only approaches youth from a discreditable motive.</p>
+
+<p>This woman was not the mother of my incognita; so sweet a flower could
+not grow upon such a rugged bush. I heard the antique say in the
+humblest tone, &quot;Mlle, if you wish, I will put down the blind; the
+cinders might hurt you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Doubtless she was some relative; for a grisette never has a companion,
+and duennas pertain exclusively to Spanish infantas.</p>
+
+<p>Was my grisette simply an adventuress, graced by a hired mother to give
+her an air of respectability? No, there was the seal of simple honesty
+stamped upon her whole person; a care in the details of her simple
+toilet, which separated her from that venturous class. A wandering
+princess would not show such exactitude in her dress; she would betray
+herself by a ragged shawl worn over a new dress, by silk stockings with
+boots down at heel, by something ripped and out of order. Besides, the
+old woman did not take snuff nor smell of brandy.</p>
+
+<p>I made these observations in less time than it takes to write them,
+through Alfred's inexhaustible chatter, who imagines, like many people,
+that you are vexed if the conversation flags an instant. Besides,
+between you and me, I think he wished to impress these women with an
+idea of his importance, for he talked to me of the whole world. I do not
+know how it happened, but this whirlwind of words seemed to interest my
+incognita, who had all along remained quietly ensconced in her corner.
+The few words uttered by her were not at all remarkable; an observation
+upon a mass of great black clouds piled up in a corner of the horizon
+that threatened a shower; but I was charmed with the fresh and silvery
+tone of her voice. The music of the words&mdash;it is going to
+rain&mdash;penetrated my soul like an air from Bellini, and I felt something
+stir in my heart, which, well cultivated, might turn into love.</p>
+
+<p>The locomotive soon devoured the distance between Mantos and Pont de
+l'Arche. An abominable scraping of iron and twisting of brakes was
+heard, and the train stopped. I was terribly alarmed lest the grisette
+and her companion should continue their route, but they got out at the
+station. O Roger wasn't I a happy dog? While they were employed in
+hunting up some parcel, the vehicle which runs between the station and
+Pont de l'Arche left, weighed down with trunks and travellers; so that
+the two women and myself were compelled, in spite of the weather, to
+walk to Pont de l'Arche. Large drops began to sprinkle the dust. One of
+those big black clouds which I mentioned opened, and long streams of
+rain fell from its gloomy folds like arrows from an overturned quiver.</p>
+
+<p>A moss-covered shed, used to put away farming implements, odd
+cart-wheels, performed for us the same service as the classic grotto
+which sheltered Eneas and Dido under similar circumstances. The wild
+branches of the hawthorn and sweet-briar added to the rusticity of our
+asylum.</p>
+
+<p>My unknown, although visibly annoyed by this delay, resigned herself to
+her fate, and watched the rain falling in torrents. O Robinson Crusoe,
+how I envied you, at that moment, your famous goat-skin umbrella! how
+gracefully would I have offered its shelter to this beauty as far as
+Pont de l'Arche, for she was going to Pont de l'Arche, right into the
+lion's mouth. Time passed. The vehicle would not return until the next
+train was due, that is in five or six hours; I had not told them to come
+for me; our situation was most melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>My infanta opened daintily her little bag, took from it a roll and some
+bonbons, which she began to eat in the most graceful manner imaginable,
+but having breakfasted before leaving Mantes, I was dying of hunger; I
+suppose I must have looked covetously at her provisions, for she began
+to laugh and offered me half of her pittance, which I accepted. In the
+division, I don't know how it happened, but my hand touched hers&mdash;she
+drew it quickly away, and bestowed upon me a look of such royal disdain
+that I said to myself&mdash;This young girl is destined for the dramatic
+profession,&mdash;she plays the Marguerites and the Clytemnestras in the
+provinces until she possesses <i>embonpoint</i> enough to appear at Porte
+Saint Martin or the Odeon. This vampire is her dresser&mdash;everything was
+clear.</p>
+
+<p>I promised you a paragraph upon her eyes and hair; her eyes were a
+changeable gray, sometimes blue, sometimes green, according to the
+expression and the light; her chestnut locks were separated in two
+glossy braids, half satin, half velvet&mdash;many a great lady would have
+paid high for such hair.</p>
+
+<p>The shower over, a wild resolution was unanimously taken to set out on
+foot for Pont de l'Arche, notwithstanding the mud and the puddles.</p>
+
+<p>Having entered into the good graces of the infanta by speech full of
+wisdom and gesture carefully guarded, we set out together, the old woman
+following a few steps behind, and the marvellous little boot arrived at
+its destination without being soiled the least in the world&mdash;grisettes
+are perfect partridges&mdash;the house of Madame Taverneau, the
+post-mistress, where my incognita stopped.</p>
+
+<p>You are a prince of very little penetration, dear Roger, if you have not
+divined that you will receive a letter from me every day, and even two,
+if I have to send empty envelopes or recopy the Complete Letter Writer.
+To whom will I not write? No minister of state will ever have so
+extended a correspondence.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='VII'></a><h2>VII.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+PONT DE L'ARCHE, May 29th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Valentine, this time I rebel, and question your infallibility.</p>
+
+<p>It is useless for you to say to me, &quot;You do not love him.&quot; I tell you I
+do love him, and intend to marry him. Nevertheless you excite my
+admiration in pronouncing against me this very well-turned sentence.
+&quot;Genuine and fervid love is not so ingenuous. When you love deeply, you
+respect the object of your devotion and are fearful of giving offence by
+daring to test him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you love sincerely you are not so venturesome. It is so necessary
+for you to trust him, that you treasure up your faith and risk it not in
+suspicious trifling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Real love is timid, it would rather err than suspect, it buries doubts
+instead of nursing them, and very wisely, for love cannot survive
+faith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This is a magnificent period, and you should send it to Balzac; he
+delights in filling his novels with such very woman-like phrases.</p>
+
+<p>I admit that your ideas are just and true when applied to love alone;
+but if this love is to end in marriage, the &quot;test&quot; is no longer
+&quot;suspicious trifling,&quot; and one has the right to try the constancy of a
+character without offending the dignity of love.</p>
+
+<p>Marriage, and especially a marriage of inclination, is so serious a
+matter, that we cannot exercise too much prudence and reasonable delay
+before taking the final step.</p>
+
+<p>You say, &quot;Love is timid;&quot; well, so is Hymen. One dares not lightly utter
+the irrevocable promise, &quot;Thine for life!&quot; these words make us hesitate.</p>
+
+<p>When we wish to be honorable and faithfully keep our oaths, we pause a
+little before we utter them.</p>
+
+<p>Now I can hear you exclaim, &quot;You are not in love; if you were, instead
+of being frightened by these words, they would reassure you; you would
+be quick to say 'Thine for life,' and you could never imagine that there
+existed any other man you could love.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I am aware that this gives you weapons to be used against me; I know I
+am foolish! but&mdash;well, I feel that there is some one somewhere that I
+could love more deeply!</p>
+
+<p>This silly idea sometimes makes me pause and question, but it grows
+fainter daily, and I now confess that it is folly, childish to cherish
+such a fancy. In spite of your opinion, I persist in believing that I am
+in love with Roger. And when you know him, you will understand how
+natural it is for me to love him.</p>
+
+<p>I would at this very moment be talking to him in Paris but for you!
+Don't be astonished, for your advice prevented my returning to Paris
+yesterday.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! I asked you for aid, and you add to my anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>I left the hotel de Langeac with a joyful heart. The test will be
+favorable, thought I,&mdash;and when I have seen Roger in the depths of
+despair for a few days, seeking me everywhere, impatiently expecting me,
+blaming me a little and regretting me deeply, I will suddenly appear
+before him, happy and smiling! I will say, &quot;Roger, you love me; I left
+you to think of you from afar, to question my own heart&mdash;to try the
+strength of your devotion; I now return without fear and with renewed
+confidence in myself and in you; never again shall we be separated!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I intend to frankly confess everything to him; but you say the
+confession will be fatal to me. &quot;If you intend to marry M. de Moubert,
+for Heaven's sake keep him in ignorance of the motive of your departure;
+invent an excuse&mdash;be called off to perform a duty&mdash;to nurse a sick
+friend; choose any story you please, rather than let him suspect you ran
+away to experiment upon the degree of his love.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>You add, &quot;he loves you devotedly and never will he forgive you for
+inflicting on him these unnecessary sufferings; a proud and deserving
+love never pardons suspicious and undeserved trials of its faith.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now what can I do? Invent a falsehood? All falsehoods are stupid! Then I
+would have to write it, for I could not undertake to lie to his face.
+With strangers and people indifferent to me, I might manage it; but to
+look into the face of the man who loves me, who gazes so honestly into
+my eyes when I speak to him, who understands every expression of my
+countenance, who observes and admires the blush that flushes my cheek,
+who is familiar with every modulation of my voice, as a musician with
+the tones of his instrument&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Why, it is a moral impossibility to attempt such a thing! A forced
+smile, a false tone, would put him on his guard at once; he becomes
+suspicious.</p>
+
+<p>At his first question my fine castle of lies vanishes into air, and I
+have to fall back on the unvarnished truth.</p>
+
+<p>To gratify you, Valentine, I will lie, but lie at a distance. I feel
+that it is necessary to put many stations and provinces between my
+native candor and the people I am to deceive.</p>
+
+<p>Why do you scold me so much? You must see that I have not acted
+thoughtlessly; my conduct is strange, eccentric and mysterious to no one
+but Roger.</p>
+
+<p>To every one else it is perfectly proper. I am supposed to be in the
+neighborhood of Fontainebleau, with the Duchess de Langeac, at her
+daughter's house; and as the poor girl is very sick and receives no
+company, I can disappear for a short time without my absence calling
+forth remark, or raising an excitement in the country.</p>
+
+<p>I have told my cousin a part of the truth&mdash;she understands my scruples
+and doubts. She thinks it very natural that I should wish to consider
+the matter over before engaging myself for life; she knows that I am
+staying with an old friend, and as I have promised to return home in two
+weeks, she is not a bit uneasy about me.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My child,&quot; she said when we parted, &quot;if you decide to marry, I will go
+with you to Paris; if not, you shall go with us to enjoy the waters of
+Aix.&quot; I have discovered that Aix is a good place to learn news of our
+friends in Is&egrave;re. You also reproach me for not having told Roger all my
+troubles; for having hidden from him what you flatteringly call &quot;the
+most beautiful pages of my life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>O, Valentine! in this matter I am wiser than you, in spite of your
+matronly experience and acknowledged wisdom. Doubtless you understand
+better than I do, the serious affairs of life, but about the
+frivolities, I think I know best, and I tell you that courage in a woman
+is not an attraction in the eyes of these latter-day beaux.</p>
+
+<p>Their weak minds, with an affected nicety, prefer a sighing,
+supplicating coquette, decked in pretty ribbons, surrounded by luxuries
+that are the price of her dignity; one who pours her sorrows into the
+lover's ear&mdash;yes! I say they prefer such a one to a noble woman who
+bravely faces misery with proud resignation, who refuses the favors of
+those she despises, and calm, strong, self-reliant, waters with her
+tears her hard-earned bread.</p>
+
+<p>Believe me, men are more inclined to love women they can pity than women
+they must admire and respect; feminine courage in adversity is to them a
+disagreeable picture in an ugly frame; that is to say, a poorly dressed
+woman in a poorly furnished room. So you now see why, not wishing to
+disgust my future husband, I was careful that he should not see this
+ugly picture.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! you speak to me of my dear ideal, and you say you love him? Ah! to
+him alone could I fearlessly read these beautiful pages of my life. But
+let us banish him from our minds; I would forget him!</p>
+
+<p>Once I was very near betraying myself; my cousin and I called on a
+Russian lady residing in furnished apartments on Rivoli street.</p>
+
+<p>M. de Monbert was there&mdash;as I took a seat near the fire, the Countess R.
+handed me a screen&mdash;I at once recognised a painting of my own. It
+represented Paul and Virginia gardening with Domingo.</p>
+
+<p>How horrible did all three look! Time and dust had curiously altered the
+faces of my characters; by an inexplicable phenomenon Virginia and
+Domingo had changed complexions; Virginia was a negress, and Domingo was
+enfranchised, bleached, he had cast aside the tint of slavery and was a
+pure Caucasian. The absurdity of the picture made me laugh, and M. de
+Monbert inquired the cause of my merriment. I showed him the screen, and
+he said &quot;How very horrible!&quot; and I was about to add &quot;I painted it,&quot; when
+some one interrupted us, and so prevented the betrayal of my secret.</p>
+
+<p>You will not have to scold me any more; I am going to take your advice
+and leave Pont de l'Arche to-day. Oh I how I wish I were in Paris this
+minute! I am dreadfully tired of this little place, it is so wearying to
+play poverty.</p>
+
+<p>When I was really poor, the modest life I had to lead, the cruel
+privations I had to suffer, seemed to me to be noble and dignified.</p>
+
+<p>Misery has its grandeur, and every sorrow has its poetry; but when the
+humility of life is voluntary and privations mere caprices, misery loses
+all its prestige, and the romantic sufferings we needlessly impose on
+ourselves, are intolerable, because there is no courage or merit in
+enduring them.</p>
+
+<p>This sentiment I feel must be natural, for my old companion in
+misfortune, my good and faithful Blanchard, holds the same views that I
+do. You know how devoted she was to me during my long weary days of
+trouble!</p>
+
+<p>She faithfully served me three years with no reward other than the
+approval of her own conscience. She, who was so proud of keeping my
+mother's house, resembling a stewardess of the olden time; when
+misfortune came, converted herself for my sake into maid of all work!
+Inspired by love for me, she patiently endured the hardships and
+dreariness of our sad situation; not a complaint, not a murmur, not a
+reproach. To see her so quietly resigned, you would have supposed that
+she had been both chamber-maid and cook all her life, that is if you
+never tasted her dishes! I shall always remember her first dinner. O,
+the Spartan broth of that day! She must have gotten the receipt from
+&quot;The Good Lacedemonian Cook Book.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I confidently swallowed all she put before me. Strange and mysterious
+ragout! I dared not ask what was in it, but I vainly sought for the
+relics of any animal I had ever seen; what did she make it of? It is a
+secret that I fear I shall die without discovering.</p>
+
+<p>Well, this woman, so devoted, so resigned in the days of adversity; this
+feminine Caleb, whose generous care assuaged my misery; who, when I
+suffered, deemed it her duty to suffer with me; when I worked day and
+night, considered it an honor to labor day and night with me&mdash;now that
+she knows we are restored to our fortune, cannot endure the least
+privation.</p>
+
+<p>All day long she complains. Every order is received with imprecatory
+mutterings, such as &quot;What an idiotic idea! What folly! to be as rich as
+Croesus and find amusement in poverty! To come and live in a little hole
+with common people and refuse to visit duchesses in their castles!
+People must not be surprised if I don't obey orders that I don't
+understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She is stubborn and refractory. She will drive me to despair, so
+determined does she seem to thwart all my plans. I tell her to call me
+Madame; she persists in calling me Mademoiselle. I told her to bring
+simple dresses and country shoes; she has brought nothing but
+embroidered muslins, cobweb handkerchiefs and gray silk boots. I
+entreated her to put on a simple dress, when she came with me. This made
+her desperate, and through vengeance and maliciously exaggerated zeal
+she bundled herself up like an old witch. I tried to make her comprehend
+that her frightfulness far exceeded my wildest wishes; she thereupon
+disarmed me with this sublime reply:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had nothing but new hats and new shawls, and so had to <i>borrow</i> these
+clothes to obey Mademoiselle's orders.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Would you believe it? The proud old woman has destroyed or hidden all
+the old clothes that were witnesses of our past misery. I am more
+humble, and have kept everything. When I returned to my little garret, I
+was delighted to see again my modest furniture, my pretty pink chintz
+curtains, my thin blue carpet, my little ebony shelves, and then all the
+precious objects I had saved from the wreck; my father's old
+easy-chair, my mother's work-table, and all of our family portraits,
+concealed, like proud intruders, in one corner of the room, where
+haughty marshals, worthy prelates, coquettish marquises, venerable
+abbesses, sprightly pages and gloomy cavaliers all jostled together, and
+much astonished to find themselves in such a wretched little room, and
+what is worse, shamefully disowned by their unworthy descendant. I love
+my garret, and remained there three days before coming here; and there I
+left my fine princess dresses and put on my modest travelling suit;
+there the elegant Irene once more became the interesting widow of the
+imaginary Albert Gu&eacute;rin. We started at nine in the morning. I had the
+greatest difficulty in getting ready for the early train, so soon have I
+forgotten my old habit of early rising. When I look back and recall how
+for three years I arose at dawn, it looks like a wretched dream. I
+suppose it is because I have become so lazy.</p>
+
+<p>It is distressing to think that only six months have passed since I was
+raised from the depths of poverty, and here I am already spoiled by good
+fortune!</p>
+
+<p>Misfortune is a great master, but like all masters he only is obeyed
+when present; we work with him, but when his back is turned forget his
+admonitions.</p>
+
+<p>We reached the depot as the train was starting, obtaining comfortable
+seats. I met with a most interesting adventure, that is, interesting to
+me; how small the world is! I had for a companion an old friend of
+Roger, but who fortunately did not know me; it was M. Edgar de Meilhan,
+the poet, whose talents I admire, and whose acquaintance I had long
+desired; judging from his conversation he must be quite an original
+character. But he was accompanied by one of those explanatory gossips
+who seem born to serve as cicerones to the entire world, and render
+useless all penetrating perspicacity.</p>
+
+<p>These sort of bores are amusing to meet on a journey; rather well
+informed, they quote their favorite authors very neatly in order to
+display the extent of their information; they also have a happy way of
+imposing on the ignorant people, who sit around with wide-stretched
+mouths, listening to the string of celebrated names so familiarly
+repeated as to indicate a personal intimacy with each and all of them;
+in a word, it is a way of making the most of your acquaintance, as your
+witty friend M.L. would say. Now I must give you a portrait of this
+gentleman; it shall be briefly done.</p>
+
+<p>He was an angular man, with a square forehead, a square nose, a square
+mouth, a square chin, a square smile, a square hand, square shoulders,
+square gayety, square jokes; that is to say, he is coarse, heavy and
+rugged. A coarse mind cultivated often appears smooth and moves easily
+in conversation, but a square mind is always awkward and threatening.
+Well, this square man evidently &quot;made the most of his acquaintances&quot; for
+my benefit, for poor little me, an humble violet met by chance on the
+road! He spoke of M. Guizot having mentioned this to him; of M. Thiers,
+who dined with him lately, having said that to him; of Prince Max de
+Beauvau, whom he bet with at the last Versailles races; of the beautiful
+Madame de Magnoncourt, with whom he danced at the English ambassador's
+ball; of twenty other distinguished personages with whom he was
+intimate, and finally he mentioned Prince Roger de Monbert, the
+eccentric tiger-hunter, who for the last two months had been the lion of
+Paris. At the name of Roger I became all attention; the square man
+continued:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you, my dear Edgar, were brought up with him, were you not?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said the poet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you seen him since his return?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not yet, but I hear from him constantly; I had a letter yesterday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They say he is engaged to the beautiful heiress, Irene de Chateaudun,
+and will be married very soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Tis an idle rumor,&quot; said M. de Meilhan, in a dry tone that forced his
+dreadful friend to select another topic of conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, how curious I was to find out what Roger had written to M. de
+Meilhan! Roger had a confidant! He had told him about me! What could he
+have said? Oh, this dreadful letter! What would I not give to see it! My
+sole thought is, how can I obtain it; unconsciously I gazed at M. de
+Meilhan, with an uneasy perplexity that must have astonished him and
+given him a queer idea of my character.</p>
+
+<p>I was unable to conceal my joy, when I heard him say he lived at
+Richeport, and that he intended stopping at Pont de l'Arche, which is
+but a short distance from his estate; my satisfaction must have appeared
+very strange.</p>
+
+<p>A dreadful storm detained us two hours in the neighborhood of the depot.
+We remained in company under the shed, and watched the falling rain. My
+situation was embarrassing; I wished to be agreeable and polite to M. de
+Meilhan that I might encourage him to call at Madama Taverneau's, Pont
+de l'Arche, and then again I did not wish to be so very gracious and
+attentive as to inspire him with too much assurance. It was a difficult
+game to play. I must boldly risk making a bad impression, and at the
+same time keep him at a respectful distance. Well, I succeeded in
+solving the problem within the pale of legitimate curiosity, offering to
+share with my companion in misfortune a box of bon-bons, intended for
+Madame Taverneau.</p>
+
+<p>But what attentions he showered on me before meriting this great
+sacrifice! What ingenious umbrellas he improvised for me under this
+inhospitable shed, that grudgingly lent us a perfidious and capricious
+shelter! What charming seats, skilfully made of sticks and logs driven
+into the wet ground!</p>
+
+<p>When the storm was over M. de Meilhan offered to escort us to Pont de
+l'Arche; I accepted, much to the astonishment of the severe Blanchard,
+who cannot understand the sudden change in my conduct, and begins to
+suspect me of being in search of adventures.</p>
+
+<p>When we reached our destination, and Madam Taverneau heard that M. de
+Meilhan had been my escort, she was in such a state of excitement that
+she could talk of nothing else. M. de Meilhan is highly thought of
+here, where his family have resided many years; his mother is venerated,
+and he himself beloved by all that know him. He has a moderate fortune;
+with it he quietly dispenses charity and daily confers benefits with an
+unknown hand. He seems to be very agreeable and witty. I have never met
+so brilliant a man, except M. de Monbert. How charming it would be to
+hear them talk together!</p>
+
+<p>But that letter! What would I not give for that letter! If I could only
+read the first four lines! I would find out what I want to know. These
+first lines would tell me if Roger is really sad; if he is to be pitied,
+and if it is time for me to console him. I rely a little upon the
+indiscretion of M. de Meilhan to enlighten me. Poets are like doctors;
+all artists are kindred spirits; they cannot refrain from telling a
+romantic love affair any more than a physician can from citing his last
+remarkable case; the former never name their friends, the latter never
+betray their patients. But when we know beforehand, as I do, the name of
+the hero or patient, we soon complete the semi-indiscretion.</p>
+
+<p>So I mercilessly slander all heiresses and capricious women of fashion
+that I may incite Roger's confidant to relate me my own history. I
+forgot to mention that since my arrival here M. de Meilhan has been
+every day to call on Madame Taverneau. She evidently imagines herself
+the object of his visits. I am of a different opinion. Indeed, I fear I
+have made a conquest of this dark-eyed young poet, which is not at all
+flattering to me. This sudden adoration shows that he has not a very
+elevated opinion of me. How he will laugh when he recognises this
+adventurous widow in the proud wife of his friend!</p>
+
+<p>You reproach me bitterly for having sacrificed you to Madame Taverneau.
+Cruel Prefect that you are, go and accuse the government and your
+consul-general of this unjust preference.</p>
+
+<p>Can I reach Grenoble in three hours, as I do Rouen? Can I return from
+Grenoble to Paris in three hours; fly when I wish, reappear when 'tis
+necessary? In a word have you a railway? No! Well, then, trust to my
+experience and believe that where locomotion is concerned there is an
+end to friendship, gratitude, sympathy and devotion. Nothing is to be
+considered but railways, roads, wagons that jolt you to death, but carry
+you to your destination, and stages that upset and never arrive.</p>
+
+<p>We cannot visit the friends we love best, but those we can get away from
+with the greatest facility.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, for a heroine wishing to hide herself, the asylum you offer has
+nothing mysterious, it is merely a Thebais of a prefecture; and there I
+am afraid of compromising you.</p>
+
+<p>A Parisian in a provincial town is always standing on a volcano, one
+unlucky word may cause destruction.</p>
+
+<p>How difficult it is to be a Prefect! You have commenced very
+properly&mdash;four children! All that is necessary to begin with. They are
+such convenient excuses. To be a good Prefect one must have four
+children. They are inexhaustible pretexts for escaping social horrors;
+if you wish to decline a compromising invitation, your dear little girl
+has got the whooping cough; when you wish to avoid dining a friend <i>in
+transitu</i>, your eldest son has a dreadful fever; you desire to escape a
+banquet unadorned by the presence of the big-wigs&mdash;brilliant idea! all
+four children have the measles.</p>
+
+<p>Now confess you did well to have the four lovely children! Without them
+you would be conquered in spite of your wisdom; it requires so much
+skill for a Parisian to live officially in a province!</p>
+
+<p>There all the women are clever; the most insignificant citizen's wife
+can outwit an old diplomat. What science they display under the most
+trying and peculiar circumstances! What profound combination in their
+plans of vengeance! What prudence in their malice! What patience in
+their cruelty! It is dreadful! I will visit you when you reside in the
+country, but while you reign over a prefecture, I have for you the
+respectful horror that a democratic mind has for all authorities.</p>
+
+<p>Who is this poor convalescent whose wound caused you so much anxiety?
+You don't tell me his name! I understand you, Madame! Even to an old
+friend you must show your administrative discretion!</p>
+
+<p>Is this wounded hero young? I suppose he is, as you do not say he is
+old. He is &quot;about to leave, and return to his home;&quot; &quot;his home&quot; is
+rather vague, as you don't tell me his name! Now, I am different from
+you; I name and fully describe every one I meet, you respond with
+enigmas.</p>
+
+<p>I well know that your destiny is fulfilled, and that mine has all the
+attractiveness of a new romance. Nevertheless, you must be more
+communicative if you expect to be continued in office as my confidant.</p>
+
+<p>Embrace for me your dear little ones, whom I insist upon regarding as
+your best counsellors at the prefecture, and tell my goddaughter, Irene,
+to kiss you for me.</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='VIII'></a><h2>VIII.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+Saint Dominique street, Paris.<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, May 31st, 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Now that you are a sort of Amadis de Gaul, striking attitudes upon a
+barren rock, as a sign of your lovelorn condition, you have probably
+forgotten, my dear Roger, my encounter upon the cars with an ideal
+grisette, who saved me from the horrors of starvation by generously
+dividing with me a bag of sugar-plums. But for this unlooked-for aid, I
+should have been reduced, like a famous handful of shipwrecked mariners,
+to feed upon my watch-chain and vest-buttons. To a man so absorbed in
+his grief, as you are, the news of the death from starvation of a friend
+upon the desert island of a railway station, would make very little
+impression; but I not being in love with any Irene de Chateaudun, have
+preserved a pleasant recollection of this touching scene, translated
+from the &AElig;neid in modern and familiar prose.</p>
+
+<p>I wrote immediately,&mdash;for my beauty, of an infinitely less exalted rank
+than yours, lodges with the post-mistress,&mdash;several fabulous letters to
+problematic people, in countries which do not exist, and are only
+designated upon the map by a dash.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Taverneau has conceived a profound respect for a young man who
+has correspondents in unknown lands, barely sighted in 1821 at the
+Antarctic pole, and in 1819 at the Arctic pole, so she invited me to a
+little soir&eacute;e musicale et dansante, of which I was to be the bright
+particular star. An invitation to an exclusive ball, given at an
+inaccessible house, never gave a woman with a doubtful past or an
+uncertain position, half the pleasure that I felt from the entangled
+sentences of Madame Taverneau in which she did not dare to hope, but
+would be happy if&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>Apart from the happiness of seeing Madame Louise Gu&eacute;rin (my charmer's
+name), I looked forward to an entirely new recreation, that of studying
+the manners of the middle class in their intimate relations with each
+other. I have lived with the aristocracy and with the canaille; in the
+highest and lowest conditions of life are found entire absence of
+pretension; in the highest, because their position is assured; in the
+lowest, because it is simply impossible to alter it. None but poets are
+really unhappy because they cannot climb to the stars. A half-way
+position is the most false.</p>
+
+<p>I thought I would go early to have some talk with Louise, but the circle
+was already completed when I arrived; everybody had come first.</p>
+
+<p>The guests were assembled in a large, gloomy room, gloriously called a
+drawing-room, where the servant never enters without first taking off
+her shoes at the door, like a Turk in a mosque, and which is only opened
+on the most solemn occasions. As it is doubtful whether you have ever
+set foot in a like establishment, I will give you, in imitation of the
+most profound of our novel-writers (which one? you will say; they are
+all profound now-a-days), a detailed description of Madame Taverneau's
+salon.</p>
+
+<p>Two windows, hung in red calico, held up by some black ornaments, a
+complication of sticks, pegs and all sorts of implements on stamped
+copper, gave light to this sanctuary, which commanded through them an
+animated look-out&mdash;in the language of the commonalty&mdash;upon the
+scorching, noisy highway, bordered by sickly elms sprinkled with dust,
+from the constant passage of vehicles which shake the house to its
+centre; wagons loaded with noisy iron, and droves of hogs, squeaking
+under the drover's whip.</p>
+
+<p>The floor was painted red and polished painfully bright, reminding one
+of a wine-merchant's sign freshly varnished; the walls were concealed
+under frightful velvet paper which so religiously catches the fluff and
+dust. The mahogany furniture stood round the room, a reproach against
+the discovery of America, covered with sanguinary cloth stamped in black
+with subjects taken from Fontaine's fables. When I say subjects I
+basely flatter the sumptuous taste of Madame Taverneau; it was the same
+subject indefinitely repeated&mdash;the Fox and the Stork. How luxurious it
+was to sit upon a stork's beak! In front of each chair was spread a
+piece of carpet, to protect the splendor of the floor, so that the
+guests when seated bore a vague resemblance to the bottles and decanters
+set round the plated centrepiece of a banquet given to a deputy by his
+grateful constituents.</p>
+
+<p>An atrocious troubadour clock ornamented the mantel-piece representing
+the templar Bois-Guilbert bearing off a gilded Rebecca upon a silver
+horse. On either side of this frightful time-piece were placed two
+plated lamps under globes.</p>
+
+<p>This magnificence filled with secret envy more than one housekeeper of
+Pont de l'Arche, and even the maid trembled as she dusted. We will not
+speak of the spun-glass poodles, little sugar St. Johns, chocolate
+Napoleons, a cabinet filled with common china, occupying a conspicuous
+place, engravings representing the Adieux to Fontainebleau, Souvenirs
+and Regrets, The Fisherman's Family, The Little Poachers, and other
+hackneyed subjects. Can you imagine anything like it? For my part, I
+never could understand this love for the common-place and the hideous. I
+know that every one does not dwell in Alhambras, Louvres, or Parthenons,
+but it is so easy to do without a clock to leave the walls bare, to
+exist without Manrin's lithographs or Jazet's aquatints!</p>
+
+<p>The people filling the room, seemed to me, in point of vulgarity, the
+queerest in the world; their manner of speaking was marvellous,
+imitating the florid style of the defunct Prudhomme, the pupil of Brard
+and St. Omer. Their heads spread out over their white cravats and
+immense shirt collars recalled to mind certain specimens of the gourd
+tribe. Some even resemble animals, the lion, the horse, the ass; these,
+all things considered, had a vegetable rather than an animal look. Of
+the women I will say nothing, having resolved never to ridicule that
+charming sex.</p>
+
+<p>Among these human vegetables, Louise appeared like a rose in a cabbage
+patch. She wore a simple white dress fastened at the waist by a blue
+ribbon; her hair arranged in bandeaux encircled her pure brow and wound
+in massive coils about her head. A Quakeress could have found no fault
+with this costume, which placed in grotesque and ridiculous contrast the
+hearselike trappings of the other women. It was impossible to be dressed
+in better taste. I was afraid lest my Infanta should seize this
+opportunity to display some marvellous toilette purchased expressly for
+the occasion. That plain muslin gown which never saw India, and was
+probably made by herself, touched and fascinated me. Dress has very
+little weight with me. I once admired a Granada gypsy whose sole costume
+consisted of blue slippers and a necklace of amber beads; but nothing
+annoys me more than a badly made dress of an unbecoming shade.</p>
+
+<p>The provincial dandies much preferring the rubicund gossips, with their
+short necks covered with gold chains, to Madame Taverneau's young and
+slender guest, I was free to talk with her under cover of Louisa
+Pugett's ballads and sonatas executed by infant phenomena upon a cracked
+piano hired from Rouen for the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>Louisa's wit was charming. How mistaken it is to educate instinct out of
+women! To replace nature by a school-mistress! She committed none of
+those terrible mistakes which shock one; it was evident that she formed
+her sentences herself instead of repeating formulae committed to memory.
+She had either never read a novel or had forgotten it, and unless she is
+a wonderful actress she remains as the great fashioner, Nature, made
+her&mdash;a perfect woman. We remained a greater part of the evening seated
+together in a corner like beings of another race. Profiting by the great
+interest betrayed by the company in one of those <i>soi-disant</i> innocent
+games where a great deal of kissing is done, the fair girl, doubtless
+fearing a rude salute on her delicate cheek, led me into her room, which
+adjoins the parlor and opens into the garden by a glass door.</p>
+
+<p>On a table in the room, feebly lighted by a lamp which Louisa modestly
+turned up, were scattered pell-mell, screens, boxes from Spa, alabaster
+paper-weights and other details of the art of illuminating, which
+profession my beauty practises; and which explains her occasional
+aristocratic airs, unbecoming an humble seamstress. A bouquet just
+commenced showed talent; with some lessons from St. Jean or Diaz she
+would easily make a good flower painter. I told her so. She received my
+encomiums as a matter of course, evincing none of that mock-modesty
+which I particularly detest.</p>
+
+<p>She showed me a bizarre little chest that she was making, which at
+first-sight seemed to be carved out of coral; it was constructed out of
+the wax-seals cut from old letters pasted together. This new mosaic was
+very simple, and yet remarkably pretty. She asked me to give her, in
+order to finish her box, all the striking seals I possessed, emblazoned
+in figures and devices. I gave her five or six letters that I had in my
+pocket, from which she dexterously cut the seals with her little
+scissors. While she was thus engaged I strolled about the garden&mdash;a
+Machiavellian manoeuvre, for, in order to return me my letters, she must
+come in search of me.</p>
+
+<p>The gardens of Madame Taverneau are not the gardens of Armida; but it is
+not in the power of the commonalty to spoil entirely the work of God's
+hands; trees, by the moonbeams of a summer-night, although only a few
+steps from red-cotton curtains and a sanhedrim of merry tradespeople,
+are still trees. In a corner of the garden stood a large acacia tree, in
+full bloom, waving its yellow hair in the soft night-breeze, and
+mingling its perfume with that of the flowers of the marsh iris, poised
+like azure butterflies upon their long green stems.</p>
+
+<p>The porch was flooded with silver light, and when Louise, having secured
+her seals, appeared upon the threshold, her pure and elegant form stood
+out against the dark background of the room like an alabaster statuette.</p>
+
+<p>Her step, as she advanced towards me, was undulating and rhythmical like
+a Greek strophe. I took my letters, and we strolled along the path
+towards an arbor.</p>
+
+<p>So glad was I to get away from the templar Bois-Guilbert carrying off
+Rebecca, and the plated lamps, that I developed an eloquence at once
+persuasive and surprising. Louise seemed much agitated; I could almost
+see the beatings of her heart&mdash;the accents of her pure voice were
+troubled&mdash;she spoke as one just awakened from a dream. Tell me, are not
+these the symptoms, wherever you have travelled, of a budding love?</p>
+
+<p>I took her hand; it was moist and cool, soft as the pulp of a magnolia
+flower,&mdash;and I thought I felt her fingers faintly return my pressure.</p>
+
+<p>I am delighted that this scene occurred by moonlight and under the
+acacia's perfumed branches, for I affect poetical surroundings for my
+love scenes. It would be disagreeable to recall a lovely face relieved
+against wall-paper covered with yellow scrolls; or a declaration of love
+accompanied, in the distance, by the Grace de Dieu; my first significant
+interview with Louise will be associated in my thoughts with moonbeams,
+the odor of the iris and the song of the cricket in the summer grass.</p>
+
+<p>You, no doubt, pronounce me, dear Roger, a pitiable Don Juan, a
+common-place Amilcar, for not profiting by the occasion. A young man
+strolling at night in a garden with a screen painter ought at least to
+have stolen a kiss! At the risk of appearing ridiculous, I did nothing
+of the kind. I love Louise, and besides she has at times such an air of
+hauteur, of majestic disdain that the boldest commercial traveller
+steeped to the lips in Pigault-Lebrun, a sub-lieutenant wild with
+absinthe would not venture such a caress&mdash;she would almost make one
+believe in virtue, if such a thing were possible. Frankly, I am afraid
+that I am in earnest this time. Order me a dove-colored vest,
+apple-green trowsers, a pouch, a crook, in short the entire outfit of a
+Lignon shepherd. I shall have a lamb washed to complete the pastoral.</p>
+
+<p>How I reached the ch&acirc;teau, whether walking or flying, I cannot tell.
+Happy as a king, proud as a god, for a new love was born in my heart.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='IX'></a><h2>IX.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel de la Pr&eacute;fecture, GRENOBLE (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, June 2d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>It is five o'clock, I have just come from Pont de l'Arche, and I am
+going to the Odeon, which is three miles from here; it seems to me that
+the Odeon is three miles from every spot in Paris, for no matter where
+you live, you are never near the Odeon!</p>
+
+<p>Madame Taverneau is delighted at the prospect of treating a poor,
+obscure, unsophisticated widow like myself to an evening at the theatre!
+She has a box that she obtained, by some stratagem, the hour we got
+here. She seemed so hurt and disappointed when I refused to accompany
+her, that I was finally compelled to yield to her entreaties. The good
+woman has for me a restless, troublesome affection that touches me
+deeply. A vague instinct tells her that fate will lead us through
+different paths in life, and in spite of herself, without being able to
+explain why, she watches me as if she knew I might escape from her at
+any moment.</p>
+
+<p>She insisted upon escorting me to Paris, although she had nothing to
+call her there, and her father, who is still my garret neighbor, did not
+expect her. She relies upon taking me back to Pont de l'Arche, and I
+have not the courage to undeceive her; I also dread the moment when I
+will have to tell her my real name, for she will weep as if she were
+hearing my requiem. Tell me, what can I do to benefit her and her
+husband; if they had a child I would present it with a handsome dowry,
+because parents gratefully receive money for their children, when they
+would proudly refuse it for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>To confer a favor without letting it appear as one, requires more
+consideration, caution and diplomacy than I am prepared to devote to
+the subject, so you must come to my relief and decide upon some plan.</p>
+
+<p>I first thought of making M. Taverneau manager of one of my estates&mdash;now
+that I have estates to be managed; but he is stupid ... and alas, what a
+manager he would make! He would eat the hay instead of selling it; so I
+had to relinquish that idea, and as he is unfit for anything else, I
+will get him an office; the government alone possesses the art of
+utilizing fools. Tell me what office I can ask for that will be very
+remunerative to him&mdash;consult M. de Braimes; a Prefect ought to know how
+to manage such a case; ask him what is the best way of assisting a
+prot&eacute;g&eacute; who is a great fool? Let me know at once what he says.</p>
+
+<p>I don't wish to speak of the subject to Roger, because it would be
+revealing the past. Poor Roger, how unhappy he must be! I long so to see
+him, and by great kindness make amends for my cruelty.</p>
+
+<p>I told you of all the stratagems I had to resort to in order to find out
+what Roger had written to M. de Meilhan about his sorrows; well, thanks
+to my little sealing-wax boxes, I have seen Roger's letter! Yesterday
+evening, M. de Meilhan brought me some new seals, and among the letters
+he handed me was one from Roger! Imagine my feelings! I was so
+frightened when I had the letter in my hand that I dared not read it;
+not because I was too honorable, but too prudish; I dreaded being
+embarrassed by reading facts stated in that free and easy style peculiar
+to young men when writing to each other. The only concession I could
+obtain from my delicacy was to glance at the three last lines: &quot;I am not
+angry with her, I am only vexed with myself,&quot; wrote the poor forsaken
+man. &quot;I never told her how much I loved her; if she had known it, never
+would she have had the courage to desert me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This simple honest sorrow affected me deeply; not wishing to read any
+more, I went into the garden to return M. de Meilhan his letters, and
+was glad it was too dark for him to perceive my paleness and agitation.
+I at once decided to return to Paris, for I find that in spite of all
+my fine programmes of cruelty, I am naturally tender-hearted and
+distressed to death at the idea of making any one unhappy. I armed
+myself with insensibility, and here I am already conquered by the first
+groans of my victim. I would make but an indifferent tyrant, and if all
+the suspicious queens and jealous empresses like Elizabeth, Catharine
+and Christina had no more cruelty in their dispositions than I have, the
+world would have been deprived of some of its finest tragedies.</p>
+
+<p>You may congratulate yourself upon having mitigated the severity of my
+decrees, for it is my anxiety to please you that has made me so suddenly
+change all my plans of tests and trials. You say it is undignified to
+act as a spy upon Roger, to conceal myself in Paris where he is
+anxiously seeking and waiting for me; that this ridiculous play has an
+air of intrigue, and had better be stopped at once or it may result
+dangerously ... I am resigned&mdash;I renounce the sensible idea of testing
+my future husband ... but be warned! If in the future I am tortured by
+discovering any glaring defects and odious peculiarities, that what you
+call my indiscretion might have revealed before it was too late, you
+will permit me to come and complain to you every day, and you must
+promise to listen to my endless lamentations as I repeat over and over
+again. O Valentine, I have learned too late what I might have known in
+time to save me! Valentine, I am miserable and disappointed&mdash;console me!
+console me!</p>
+
+<p>Doubtless to a young girl reared like yourself in affluence under your
+mother's eye, this strange conduct appears culpable and indelicate; but
+remember, that with me it is the natural result of the sad life I have
+led for the last three years; this disguise, that I reassume from fancy,
+was then worn from necessity, and I have earned the right of borrowing
+it a little while longer from misfortune to assist me in guarding
+against new sorrows. Am I not justified in wishing to profit by
+experience too dearly bought? Is it not just that I should demand from
+the sad past some guarantees for a brighter future, and make my bitter
+sorrows the stepping-stones to a happy life? But, as I intend to follow
+your advice, I'll do it gracefully without again alluding to my
+frustrated plans.</p>
+
+<p>To-morrow I return to Fontainebleau. I stayed there five days when I
+went back with Madame Langeac; I only intended to remain a few minutes,
+but my cousin was so uneasy at finding her daughter worse, that I did
+not like to leave before the doctor pronounced her better. This illness
+will assist me greatly in the fictions I am going to write Roger from
+Fontainebleau to-morrow. I will tell him we were obliged to leave
+suddenly, without having time to bid him adieu, to go and nurse a sick
+relative; that she is better now, and Madame de Langeac and I will
+return to Paris next week. In three days I shall return, and no one will
+ever know I have been to Pont de l'Arche, except M. de Meilhan, who will
+doubtless soon forget all about it; besides, he intends remaining in
+Normandy till the end of the year, so there is no risk of our meeting.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! I must tell you about the amusing evening M. de Meilhan and I spent
+together at Madame Taverneau's. How we did laugh over it! He was king of
+the feast, although he would not acknowledge it. Madame Taverneau was so
+proud of entertaining the young lord of the village, that she had rushed
+into the most reckless extravagance to do him honor. She had thrown the
+whole town in a state of excitement by sending to Rouen for a piano. But
+the grand event of the evening was a clock. Yet I must confess that the
+effect was quite different from what she expected&mdash;it was a complete
+failure. We usually sit in the dining-room, but for this grand occasion
+the parlor was opened. On the mantel-piece in this splendid room there
+is a clock adorned by a dreadful bronze horse running away with a fierce
+warrior and some unheard-of Turkish female. I never saw anything so
+hideous; it is even worse than your frightful clock with Columbus
+discovering America! Madame Taverneau thought that M. de Meilhan, being
+a poet and an artist, would compliment her upon possessing so rare and
+valuable a work of art. Fortunately he said nothing&mdash;he even refrained
+from smiling; this showed his great generosity and delicacy, for it is
+only a man of refinement and delicacy that respects one's
+illusions&mdash;especially when they are illusions in imitation bronze!</p>
+
+<p>Upon my arrival here this morning, I was pained to hear that the trees
+in front of my window are to be cut down; this news ought not to disturb
+me in the least, as I never expect to return to this house again, yet it
+makes me very sad; these old trees are so beautiful, and I have thought
+so many things as I would sit and watch their long branches waving in
+the summer breeze!...and the little light that shone like a star through
+their thick foliage! shall I never see it again? It disappeared a year
+ago, and I used to hope it would suddenly shine again. I thought: It is
+absent, but will soon return to cheer my solitude. Sometimes I would
+say: &quot;Perhaps my ideal dwells in that little garret!&quot; O foolish idea!
+Vain hope! I must renounce all this poetry of youth; serious age creeps
+on with his imposing escort of austere duties; he dispels the charming
+fancies that console us in our sorrows; he extinguishes the bright
+lights that guide us through darkness&mdash;drives away the beloved
+ideal&mdash;spreads a cloud over the cherished star, and harshly cries out:
+&quot;Be reasonable!&quot; which means: No longer hope to be happy.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Madame Taverneau calls me; she is in a hurry to start for the Odeon;
+it is very early, and I don't wish to go until the last moment. I have
+sent to the Hotel de Langeac for my letters, and must wait to glance
+over them&mdash;they might contain news about Roger.</p>
+
+<p>I have just caught a glimpse of the two ladies Madame Taverneau invited
+to accompany us to the theatre.... I see a wine-colored bonnet trimmed
+with green ribbons&mdash;it is horrible to look upon! Heavens&mdash;there comes
+another! more intolerable than the first one! bright yellow adorned with
+blue feathers!... Mercy! what a face within the bonnet! and what a
+figure beneath the face! She has something glistening in her hand ... it
+is ... a ... would you believe it? a travelling-bag covered with steel
+beads!... she intends taking it to the theatre!... do my eyes deceive
+me? <i>can</i> she be filling it with oranges to carry with her?... she dare
+not disgrace us by eating oranges.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='X'></a><h2>X.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+Saint Dominique Street, Paris.<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, June 3d, 18&mdash;<br />
+
+<p>It seems, my dear Roger, that we are engaged in a game of interrupted
+addresses. For my Louise Gu&eacute;rin, like your Irene de Chateaudun, has gone
+I know not where, leaving me to struggle, in this land of apple trees,
+with an incipient passion which she has planted in my breast. Flight has
+this year become an epidemic among women.</p>
+
+<p>The day after that famous soir&eacute;e, I went to the post-office ostensibly
+to carry the letter containing those triumphant details, but in reality
+to see Louise, for any servant possessed sufficient intelligence to
+acquit himself of such a commission. Imagine my surprise and
+disappointment at finding instead of Madame Taverneau a strange face,
+who gruffly announced that the post-mistress had gone away for a few
+days with Madame Louise Gu&eacute;rin. The dove had flown, leaving to mark its
+passage a few white feathers in its mossy nest, a faint perfume of grace
+in this common-place mansion!</p>
+
+<p>I could have questioned Madame Taverneau's fat substitute, but I am
+principled against asking questions; things are explained soon enough.
+Disenchantment is the key to all things. When I like a woman I carefully
+avoid all her acquaintance, any one who can tell me aught about her. The
+sound of her name pronounced by careless lips, puts me to flight; the
+letters that she receives might be given me open and I should throw
+them, unread, into the fire. If in speaking she makes any allusion to
+the past events of her life, I change the conversation; I tremble when
+she begins a recital, lest some disillusionizing incident should escape
+her which would destroy the impression I had formed of her. As
+studiously as others hunt after secrets I avoid them; if I have ever
+learned anything of a woman I loved, it has always been in spite of my
+earnest efforts, and what I have known I have carefully endeavored to
+forget.</p>
+
+<p>Such is my system. I said nothing to the fat woman, but entered Louise's
+deserted chamber.</p>
+
+<p>Everything was as she had left it.</p>
+
+<p>A bunch of wild flowers, used as a model, had not had time to fade; an
+unfinished bouquet rested on the easel, as if awaiting the last touches
+of the pencil. Nothing betokened a final departure. One would have said
+that Louise might enter at any moment. A little black mitten lay upon a
+chair; I picked it up&mdash;and would have pressed it to my lips, if such an
+action had not been deplorably rococo.</p>
+
+<p>Then I threw myself into an old arm-chair, by the side of the bed&mdash;like
+Faust in Marguerite's room&mdash;lifting the curtains with as much precaution
+as if Louise reposed beneath. You are going to laugh at me, I know, dear
+Roger, but I assure you, I have never been able to gaze upon a young
+girl's bed without emotion.</p>
+
+<p>That little pillow, the sole confidant of timid dreams, that narrow
+couch, fitted like a tomb for but one alabaster form, inspired me with
+tender melancholy. No anacreontic thoughts came to me, I assure you, nor
+any disposition to rhyme in <i>ette,</i> herbette, filette, coudrette. The
+love I bear to noble poesy saved me from such an exhibition of bad
+taste.</p>
+
+<p>A crucifix, over which hung a piece of blessed box, spread its ivory
+arms above Louise's untroubled slumber. Such simple piety touched me. I
+dislike bigots, but I detest atheists.</p>
+
+<p>Musing there alone it flashed upon me that Louise Gu&eacute;rin had never been
+married, in spite of her assertion. I am disposed to doubt the existence
+of the late Albert Gu&eacute;rin. A sedate and austere atmosphere surrounds
+Louise, suggesting the convent or the boarding-school.</p>
+
+<p>I went into the garden; the sunbeams checkered the steps of the porch;
+the wilted iris drooped on its stem, and the acacia flowers strewed the
+pathway. Apropos of acacia flowers, do you know, that fried in batter,
+they make excellent fritters? Finding myself alone in the walks where I
+had strolled with her, I do not know how it happened, but I felt my
+heart swell, and I sighed like a young abb&eacute; of the 17th century.</p>
+
+<p>I returned to the ch&acirc;teau, having no excuse for remaining longer, vexed,
+disappointed, wearied, idle&mdash;the habit of seeing Louise every day had
+grown upon me.</p>
+
+<p>And habit is everything to poor humanity, as that graceful poet Alfred
+de Musset says. My feet only know the way to the post-office; what shall
+I do with myself while this visit lasts? I tried to read, but my
+attention wandered; I skipped the lines, and read the same paragraph
+over twice; my book having fallen down I picked it up and read it for
+one whole hour upside down, without knowing it&mdash;I wished to make a
+monosyllabic sonnet&mdash;extremely interesting occupation&mdash;and failed. My
+quatrains were tedious, and my tercets entirely too diffuse.</p>
+
+<p>My mother begins to be uneasy at my dullness; she has asked twice if I
+were sick&mdash;I have fallen off already a quarter of a pound; for nothing
+is more enraging than to be deserted at the most critical period of
+one's infatuation! Ixion of Normandy, my Juno is a screen-painter, I
+open my arms and clasp only a cloud! My position, similar to yours,
+cannot, however, be compared with it&mdash;mine only relates to a trifling
+flirtation, a thwarted fancy, while yours is a serious passion for a
+woman of your own rank who has accepted your hand, and therefore has no
+right to trifle with you,&mdash;she must be found, if only for vengeance!</p>
+
+<p>Remorse consumes me because of my sentimental stupidity by moonlight.
+Had I profited by the night, the solitude and the occasion, Louise had
+not left me; she saw clearly that I loved her, and was not displeased at
+the discovery. Women are strange mixtures of timidity and rashness.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps she has gone to join her lover, some saw-bones, some
+counting-house Lovelace, while I languish here in vain, like Celadon or
+Lygdamis of cooing memory.</p>
+
+<p>This is not at all probable, however, for Madame Taverneau would not
+compromise her respectability so far as to act as chaperon to the loves
+of Louise Gu&eacute;rin. After all, what is it to me? I am very good to trouble
+myself about the freaks of a prudish screen-painter! She will return,
+because the hired piano has not been sent back to Rouen, and not a soul
+in the house knows a note of music but Louise, who plays quadrilles and
+waltzes with considerable taste, an accomplishment she owes to her
+mistress of painting, who had seen better days and possessed some skill.</p>
+
+<p>Do not be too much flattered by this letter of grievances, for I only
+wanted an excuse to go to the post-office to see if Louise has
+returned&mdash;suppose she has not! the thought drives the blood back to my
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>Isn't it singular that I should fall desperately in love with this
+simple shepherdess&mdash;I who have resisted the sea-green glances and smiles
+of the sirens that dwell in the Parisian ocean? Have I escaped from the
+Marquise's Israelite turbans only to become a slave to a straw bonnet? I
+have passed safe and sound through the most dangerous defiles to be
+worsted in open country; I could swim in the whirlpool, and now drown in
+a fish-pond; every celebrated beauty, every renowned coquette finds me
+on my guard. I am as circumspect as a cat walking over a table covered
+with glass and china. It is hard to make me pose, as they say in a
+certain set; but when the adversary is not to be feared, I allow him so
+many advantages that in the end he subdues me.</p>
+
+<p>I was not sufficiently on my guard with Louise at first.</p>
+
+<p>I said to myself: &quot;She is only a grisette&quot;&mdash;and left the door of my
+heart open&mdash;love entered in, and I fear I shall have some trouble in
+driving him out.</p>
+
+<p>Excuse, dear Roger, this nonsense, but I must write you something. After
+all, my passion is worth as much as yours. Love is the same whether
+inspired by an empress or a rope-dancer, and I am just as unhappy at
+Louise's disappearance as you are at Irene's.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XI'></a><h2>XI.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,<br />
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, June 3d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>She is in Paris!</p>
+
+<p>Before knowing it I felt it. The atmosphere was filled with a voice, a
+melody, a brightness, a perfume that murmured: Irene is here!</p>
+
+<p>Paris appears to me once more populated; the crowd is no longer a desert
+in my eyes; this great dead city has recovered its spirit of life; the
+sun once more smiles upon me; the earth bounds under my feet; the soft
+summer air fans my burning brow, and whispers into my ear that one
+adored name&mdash;Irene!</p>
+
+<p>Chance has a treasure-house of atrocious combinations. Chance! The
+cunning demon! He calls himself Chance so as to better deceive us. With
+an infernal skilfulness he feigns not to watch us in the decisive
+moments of our lives, and at the same time leads us like blind fools
+into the very path he has marked out for us.</p>
+
+<p>You know the two brothers Ernest and George de S. were planted by their
+family in the field of diplomacy: they study Eastern languages and
+affect Eastern manners. Well, yesterday we met in the Bois de Boulogne,
+they in a calash, and I on horseback&mdash;I am trying riding as a moral
+hygiene&mdash;as the carriage dashed by they called out to me an invitation
+to dinner; I replied, &quot;Yes,&quot; without stopping my horse. Idleness and
+indolence made me say &quot;Yes,&quot; when I should have said, &quot;No;&quot; but <i>Yes</i> is
+so much easier to pronounce than <i>No</i>, especially on horseback. <i>No</i>
+necessitates a discussion; <i>Yes</i> ends the matter, and economizes words
+and time.</p>
+
+<p>I was rather glad I had met these young sprigs of diplomacy. They are
+good antidotes for low spirits, for they are always in a hilarious state
+and enjoy their youth in idle pleasure, knowing they are destined to
+grow old in the soporific dulness of an Eastern court.</p>
+
+<p>I thought we three would be alone at dinner; alas! there were five of
+us.</p>
+
+<p>Two female artistes who revelled in their precocious emancipation; two
+divinities worshipped in the temple of the grand sculptors of modern
+Athens; the Scylla and Charybdis of Paris.</p>
+
+<p>I am in the habit of bowing with the same apparent respect to every
+woman in the universe. I have bowed to the ebony women of Senegal; to
+the moon-colored women of the Southern Archipelago; to the snow-white
+women of Behring's Strait, and to the bronze women of Lahore and Ceylon.
+Now it was impossible for me to withdraw from the presence of two fair
+women whose portraits are the admiration of all connoisseurs who visit
+the Louvre. Besides, I have a theory: the less respectable a woman is,
+the more respect we should show her, and thus endeavor to bring her back
+to virtue.</p>
+
+<p>I remained and tried to add my fifth share of antique gayety to the
+feast. We were Praxiteles, Phidias and Scopas; we had inaugurated the
+modest Venus and her sister in their temples, and we drank to our model
+goddesses in wines from the Ionian Archipelago.</p>
+
+<p>That evening, you may remember, Antigone was played at the Odeon in the
+Faubourg Saint-Germain.</p>
+
+<p>I have another theory: in any action, foolish or wise, either carry it
+through bravely when once undertaken, or refrain from undertaking it. I
+had not the wisdom to refrain, therefore I was compelled to imitate the
+folly of my friends; at dessert I even abused the invitation, and too
+often sought to drown sorrow in the ruby cup.</p>
+
+<p>We started for the Odeon. Our entrance at the theatre caused quite an
+excitement. The ladies, cavalierly suspended on the arms of the two
+future Eastern ambassadors, sailed in with a conscious air of epicurean
+grace and dazzling beauty. The classic ushers obsequiously threw open
+the doors, and led us to our box. I brought up the procession, looking
+as insolent and proud as I did the day I entered the ruined pagoda of
+Bangalore to carry off the statue of Sita.</p>
+
+<p>The first act was being played, and the Athenian school preserved a
+religious silence in front of the proscenium. The noise we made by
+drawing back the curtain of our box, slamming the door and loudly
+laughing, drowned for an instant the touching strains of the tragic
+choir, and centred upon us the angry looks of the audience.</p>
+
+<p>With what cool impertinence did our divinities lean over the seats and
+display their round white arms, that have so often been copied in Parian
+marble by our most celebrated sculptors! Our three intellectual faces,
+wreathed in the silly smiles of intoxication, hovered over the silken
+curls of our goddesses, thus giving the whole theatre a full view of our
+happiness!</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally a glimmer of reason would cross my confused brain, and I
+would soliloquize: Why am I disgracing myself in this way before all
+these people? What possesses me to act in concert with these drunken
+fools and bold women? I must rush out and apologize to the first person
+I meet!</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible for me to follow my good impulse&mdash;some unseen hand
+held me back&mdash;some mysterious influence kept me chained to the spot. We
+are influenced by magic, although magicians no longer exist!</p>
+
+<p>Between the acts, our two Greek statues criticised the audience in loud
+tones, and their remarks, seasoned with attic salt, afforded a peculiar
+supplement to the choir of Antigone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Those four women on our right must be sensible people,&quot; said our blonde
+statue; &quot;they have put their show-piece in front. I suppose she is the
+beauty of the party; did you ever behold such dreadful bonnets and
+dresses? They must have come from the Olympic Circus. If I were
+disfigured in that way, I would be a box-opener, but never would be seen
+in one!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I have seen them before,&quot; said the bronze statue; they hire
+their bonnets from the fish-market&mdash;disgusting creatures that they are!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do the two in the corner look like, my angel?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see nothing but a shower of curls; I suppose <i>she</i> found it more
+economical to curl her hair than to buy a bonnet. Every time I stretch
+my neck to get a look at her, she hides behind those superb bonnets.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Which proves,&quot; said Ernest, &quot;that she is paradoxically ugly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I pity them, if they are seeking four husbands,&quot; said George; &quot;and if
+they are married&mdash;I pity their four husbands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whilst my noisy companions were trying to discover their ideal fright in
+the corner of the box on our right, I felt an inexplicable contraction
+of my heart&mdash;a chill pass through my whole body; my silly gayety was by
+some unseen influence suddenly changed into sadness&mdash;I felt my eyes fill
+with tears. The only way I could account for this revulsion in my
+feelings was the growing conviction that I was disgracing myself in a
+den of malefactors of both sexes. My fit of melancholy was interrupted
+very opportunely by the choir chanting the hymn of Bacchus, that antique
+wonder, found by Mendelssohn in the ruins of the Temple of Victory.</p>
+
+<p>When the play was over, I timidly proposed that we should remain in our
+box till the crowd had passed out; but our Greek statues would not hear
+to it, as they had determined upon a triumphal exit. I was obliged to
+yield.</p>
+
+<p>The bronze statue despotically seized my arm, and dragged me toward the
+stair. I felt as if I had a cold lizard clinging to me. I was seized
+with that chilly sensation always felt by nervous people when they come
+in contact with reptiles.</p>
+
+<p>I recalled the disastrous day that I was shipwrecked on the island of
+Eaei-Namove, and compelled to marry Dai-Natha, the king's daughter, in
+order to escape the unpleasant alternative of being eaten alive by her
+father. On the staircase of the Odeon I regretted Dai-Natha.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of the dense crowd that blockaded the stairway, I heard a
+frightened cry that made the blood freeze in my veins. There was but one
+woman in the world blest with so sweet a voice&mdash;musical even when raised
+in terror.</p>
+
+<p>If I were surrounded by crashing peals of thunder, rushing waters and
+yells of wild beasts, I still could recognise, through the din of all
+this, the cry of a beloved woman. I am gifted with that marvellous
+perception of hearing, derived from the sixth sense, the sense of love.</p>
+
+<p>Irene de Chateaudun had uttered that cry of alarm&mdash;<i>Take care, my dear!</i>
+she had exclaimed with that accent of fright that it is impossible to
+disguise&mdash;in that tone that will be natural in spite of all the reserve
+that circumstances would impose, <i>Take care, my dear!</i></p>
+
+<p>Some one near me said that a door-keeper had struck a lady on the
+shoulder with a panel of a portable door which he was carrying across
+the passage-way. By standing on my toes I could just catch a glimpse of
+the board being balanced in the air over every one's head. My eyes could
+not see the woman who had uttered this cry, but my ears told me it was
+Irene de Chateaudun.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd was so dense that some minutes passed before I could move a
+step towards the direction of the cry, but when I had finally succeeded
+in reaching the door, I flung from me the hateful arm that clung to
+mine, and rushing into the street, I searched through the crowd and
+looked in every carriage and under every lady's hood to catch a glimpse
+of Irene, without being disconcerted by the criticisms that the people
+around indulged in at my expense.</p>
+
+<p>Useless trouble! I discovered nothing. The theatre kept its secret; but
+that cry still rings in my ears and echoes around my heart.</p>
+
+<p>This morning at daybreak I flew to the Hotel de Langeac. The porter
+stared at me in amazement, and answered all my eager inquiries with a
+stolid, short <i>no</i>. The windows of Irene's room were closed and had that
+deserted appearance that proved the absence of its lovely
+occupant&mdash;windows that used to look so bright and beautiful when I would
+catch glimpses of a snowy little hand arranging the curtains, or of a
+golden head gracefully bent over her work, totally unconscious of the
+loving eyes feasting upon her beauty&mdash;oh! many of my happiest moments
+have been spent gazing at those windows, and now how coldly and silently
+they frowned upon my grief!</p>
+
+<p>The porter lies! The windows lie! I exclaimed, and once more I began to
+search Paris.</p>
+
+<p>This time I had a more important object in view than trying to fatigue
+my body and divert my mind. My eyes are multiplied to infinity; they
+questioned at once every window, door, alley, street, carriage and store
+in the city. I was like the miser who accused all Paris of having stolen
+his treasure.</p>
+
+<p>At three o'clock, when all the beauty and fashion of Paris was
+promenading on Paix aux Panoramas street, I was stopped on the corner
+and button-holed by one of those gossiping friends whom fiendish chance
+always sends at the most trying moments in life in order to disgust us
+with friendship ... A dazzling form passed before me ... Irene alone
+possesses that graceful ease, that fairy-like step, that queenly
+dignity&mdash;I could recognise her among a thousand&mdash;it was useless for her
+to attempt disguising her exquisite elegance beneath a peasant dress&mdash;besides
+I caught her eye, so all doubts were swept away; several
+precious minutes were lost in trying to shake off my vexatious friend. I
+abruptly bade him good-day and darted after Irene, but she has the foot
+of a gazelle, and the crowd was so compact that in spite of my elbowing
+and foot-crushing, I made but little headway.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, through an opening in the crowd, I saw Mlle., de Chateaudun
+turn the corner and enter that narrow street near the Cafe Vernon. This
+time she cannot possibly escape me&mdash;she is in a long, narrow street,
+with deserted galleries on either side&mdash;circumstances are propitious to
+a meeting and explanation&mdash;in a minute I am in the narrow street a few
+yards behind Irene. I prepare my mind for this momentous conversation
+which is to decide my fate. I firmly clasp my arms to still the violent
+throbbings of my heart. I am about to be translated to heaven or
+engulfed by hell.</p>
+
+<p>She rapidly glanced at a Chinese store in front of her and, without
+showing any agitation, quietly opened the door and went in. Very good,
+thought I, she will purchase some trifle and be out in a few minutes. I
+will wait for her.</p>
+
+<p>Five feet from the store I assumed the attitude of the god Terminus; by
+the way, this store is very handsomely ornamented, and far surpasses in
+its elegant collection of Chinese curiosities the largest store of the
+sort in Hog Lane in the European quarter of Canton.</p>
+
+<p>Another of those kind friends whom chance holds in reserve for our
+annoyance, came out of a bank adjoining the store, and inferring from my
+statue-like attitude that I was dying of ennui and would welcome any
+diversion, rushed up to me and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! my dear cosmopolitan, how are you to-day? Don't you want to
+accompany me to Brussels? I have just bought gold for the journey; gold
+is very high, fifteen per cent.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I answered by one of those listless smiles and unintelligible
+monosyllables which signifies in every language under the sun, don't
+bore me.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime I remained immovable, with my eyes fastened on the
+Chinese store. I could have detected the flight of an atom.</p>
+
+<p>My friend struck the attitude of the Colossus of Rhodes, and supporting
+his chin upon the gold head of his cane which he held in the air
+clenched by both hands, thus continued: &quot;I did a very foolish thing this
+morning. I bought my wife a horse, a Devonshire horse, from the Cr&eacute;mieux
+stables.... That reminds me, my dear Roger, you are the very man to
+decide a knotty question for me. I bet D'Allinville thirty louis that
+... what would <i>you</i> call a lady's horse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For some moments I preserved that silence which shows that we are not in
+a humor for talking; but friends sent by ingenious Chance understand
+nothing but the plainest language, so my friend continued his queries:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What would you call a lady's horse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would call it a horse,&quot; said I, with indifference.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Roger, I believe you are right; D'Allinville insists that a lady's
+horse is a palfrey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In the language of chivalry he is right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I have lost my bet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Roger, this question has been worrying me for two days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are very fortunate to have nothing worse than a term of chivalry to
+annoy you. I would give all the gold in that broker's office if my
+troubles were as light as yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am afraid you <i>are</i> unhappy, ... you have been looking sad for some
+time, Roger, ... come with me to Brussels.... We can make some splendid
+speculations there. Now-a-days if the aristocracy don't turn their
+attention to business once in a while, they will be completely swept out
+by the moneyed scum of the period. Let us make a venture: I hear of
+twenty acres of land for sale, bordering on the Northern Railroad&mdash;there
+is a clear gain of a hundred thousand francs as soon as the road is
+finished; I offer you half&mdash;it is not a very risky game, nothing more
+than playing lansquenet on a railroad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No signs of Irene. My impatience was so evident that this time, my
+obtuse friend saw it, and, shaking me by the hand, said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good bye, my dear Roger, why in the world did you not tell me I was <i>de
+trop?</i> Now that I see there is a fair lady in the case I will relieve
+you of my presence. Adieu! adieu!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was gone, and I breathed again.</p>
+
+<p>By this time my situation had become critical. This Chinese door, like
+that of Acheron, refused to surrender its prey. Time was passing. I had
+successively adopted every attitude of feverish expectation; I had
+exhausted every pose of a museum of statues, and saw that my suspicious
+blockade of the pavement alarmed the store-keepers. The broker adjoining
+the Chinese store seemed to be putting himself on the defensive, and
+meditating an article for the <i>Gazette des Tribunaux</i>.</p>
+
+<p>I now regretted the departure of my speculating friend; his presence
+would at least have given my conduct an air of respectability,&mdash;would
+have legalized, so to speak, my odd behavior. This time chance left me
+to my own devices.</p>
+
+<p>I had held my position for two hours, and now, as a regard for public
+opinion compelled me to retire, and I had no idea of doing so until I
+had achieved a victory, I determined to make an attack upon the citadel
+containing my queen of love and beauty. Irene had not left the store,
+for she certainly had no way of escaping except by the door which was
+right in front of my eyes&mdash;she must be all this time selecting some
+trifle that a man could purchase in five minutes,&mdash;it takes a woman an
+eternity to buy anything, no matter how small it may be! My situation
+had become intolerable&mdash;I could stand it no longer; so arming myself
+with superhuman courage, I bravely opened the shop-door and entered as
+if it were the breach of a besieged city.</p>
+
+<p>I looked around and could see nothing but a confused mingling of objects
+living and dead; I could only distinguish clearly a woman bowing over
+the counter, asking me a question that I did not hear. My agitation made
+me deaf and blind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Madame,&quot; I said, &quot;have you any ... Chinese curiosities?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have, monsieur, black tea, green tea, and some very fine Pekin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, madame, ... give me some of all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you want it in boxes, monsieur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In boxes, madame, if you choose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I looked all around the room and saw nobody but two old women standing
+behind another counter&mdash;no signs of Irene.</p>
+
+<p>I paid for my tea, and while writing down my address, I questioned the
+saleswoman:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I promised my wife to meet her here at three o'clock to select this
+tea&mdash;not that my presence was necessary, as her taste is always
+mine&mdash;but she requested me to come, and I fear I have made a mistake in
+the hour, my watch has run down and I had no idea it was so late&mdash;I hope
+she did not wait for me? has she been here?&quot; Thereupon I gave a minute
+description of Irene de Chateaudun, from the color of her hair to the
+shade of her boot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, monsieur, she was here about three o'clock, it is now five; she
+was only here a few minutes&mdash;long enough to make a little purchase.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, ... I gasped out, ... I know, but I thought I saw her ... did she
+not come in ... that door?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, sir, she entered by that door and went out by the opposite one,
+that one over there,&quot; said she, pointing to a door opening on New
+Vivienne street.</p>
+
+<p>I suppressed an oath, and rushed out of the door opening on this new
+street, as if I expected to find Mlle. de Chateaudun patiently waiting
+for me to join her on the pavement. My head was in such a whirl that I
+had not the remotest idea of where I was going, and I wandered
+recklessly through little streets that I had never heard of before&mdash;it
+made no difference to me whether I ran into Scylla or Charybdis&mdash;I cared
+not what became of me.</p>
+
+<p>Like the fool that repeats over and over again the same words without
+understanding their meaning, I kept saying: &quot;The fiend of a woman! the
+fiend of a woman!&quot; At this moment all my love seemed turned to hate! but
+when this hate had calmed down to chill despair, I began to reflect with
+agonizing fear that perhaps Irene had seen me at the Odeon with those
+dreadful women. I felt that I was ruined in her eyes for ever! She would
+never listen to my attempt at vindication or apologies&mdash;women are so
+unforgiving when a man strays for a moment from the path of propriety,
+and they regard little weaknesses in the light of premeditated crimes,
+too heinous for pardon&mdash;Irene would cry out with the poet:</p>
+
+&quot;Tu te fais criminel pour te justifier!&quot;<br />
+
+<p>You are fortunate, my dear Edgar, in having found the woman you have
+always dreamed of and hoped for; you will have all the charms of love
+without its troubles; it is folly to believe that love is strengthened
+by its own torments and stimulated by sorrows. A storm is only admired
+by those on shore; the suffering sailors curse the raging sea and pray
+for a calm.</p>
+
+<p>Your letter, my dear Edgar, is filled with that calm happiness that is
+the foundation of all true love; in return, I can only send you an
+account of my despair. Friendship is often a union of these two
+contrasts.</p>
+
+<p>Enjoy your happy lot, my friend; your reputation is made. You have a
+good name, an enviable and an individual philosophy, borrowed neither
+from the Greeks nor the Germans. Your future is beautiful; cherish the
+sweetest dreams; the woman you love will realize them all.</p>
+
+<p>Night is a bad counsellor, so I dare not make any resolutions, or come
+to any decision at this dark hour. I shall wait for the sun to enlighten
+my mind.</p>
+
+<p>In my despair I have the mournful consolation of knowing that Irene is
+in Paris. This great city has no undiscovered secrets; everything and
+every person hid in its many houses is obliged sooner or later to appear
+in the streets. I form the most extravagant projects; I will buy, if
+necessary, the indiscretion of all the discreet lips that guard the
+doors; I shall recruit an army of salaried spies. On the coast of the
+Coromandel there is a tribe of Indians whose profession is to dive into
+the Gulf of Bengal, that immense bathing-tub of the sun, and search for
+a beautiful pearl that lies buried among the coral beds at the bottom of
+the ocean. It is a pearl of great price, as valuable as the finest
+diamond.... Irene is my pearl of great price, and I will search for and
+find her in this great ocean of men and houses called Paris.... After
+thinking and wondering till I am dizzy and sick at heart, I have come to
+the conclusion that Irene is acting in this manner to test my love&mdash;this
+thought consoles me a little, and I try to drown my sorrow in the
+thought of our mutual happiness, when I shall have triumphantly passed
+through the ordeal.</p>
+
+<p>The most charming of women is willing to believe that everybody loves
+except her lover.</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XII'></a><h2>XII.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Grenoble, (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, June 2d&mdash;Midnight.<br />
+
+<p>Oh! How indignant I am! How angry and mortified are my feelings! Good
+Heavens! how his shameful conduct makes me hate and despise him!... I
+will try to be calm&mdash;to collect my scattered thoughts and give you a
+clear account of what has just occurred&mdash;tell you how all of my plans
+are destroyed&mdash;how I am once more alone in this cruel world, more sad,
+more discouraged and more hopeless than I ever was in my darkest days of
+misery and poverty.... but I cannot be calm&mdash;it is impossible for me to
+control my indignation when I think of the shameful behavior of this
+man&mdash;of his gross impertinence&mdash;his insolent duplicity.... Well, I went
+to the Odeon; M. de Monbert was there, I saw him, he certainly made no
+attempt to conceal his presence; you know he plumes himself upon being
+open and frank&mdash;never hides anything from the world&mdash;wishes people to
+see him in his true character, &amp;c., precisely what I saw to-night. Yes,
+Valentine, there he was as tipsy as a coachman&mdash;with those little
+hair-brained de S.'s, the eldest simply tipsy as a lord, the young one,
+George, was drunk, very drunk. This is not all, the fascinating Prince
+was escort to two fashionable beauties, two miserable creatures of
+distressing notoriety, two of those shameless women whom we cannot fail
+to recognise on account of their scandalous behavior in public; sort of
+market-women disguised as fashion-plates&mdash;half apple-venders, half
+coquettes, who tap men on the cheek with their scented gloves and
+intersperse their conversation with dreadful oaths from behind their
+bouquets and Pompadour fans! ... these creatures talked in shrill tones,
+laughed out loud enough to be heard by every one around&mdash;joined in the
+chorus of the Choir of Antigone with the old men of Thebes!... People
+in the gallery said: &quot;they must have dined late,&quot; that was a charitable
+construction to put upon their shameful conduct&mdash;I thought to myself,
+this is their usual behavior&mdash;they are always thus.</p>
+
+<p>I must tell you, so you can better appreciate my angry mortification,
+that just as we were stepping into the carriage the servant handed me
+the letters that I had sent him to bring from the Hotel de Langeac.
+Among the number was one from M. de Monbert, written several days after
+I had left Paris; this letter is worthy of being sent to Grenoble; I
+enclose it. While reading it, my dear Valentine, don't forget that I
+read it at the theatre, and my reading was constantly interrupted by the
+vulgar conversation and noisy laughter of M. de Monbert and his choice
+companions, and that each high-flown sentence of this hypocritical note
+had at the same time a literal and free translation in the scandalous
+remarks, bursts of laughter, and stupid puns of the despicable man who
+had written it.</p>
+
+<p>I confess that this flow of wit interfered with my perusal of these
+touching reproaches; the brilliant improvisations of the orator
+prevented me from becoming too much affected by the elegiacs of the
+writer.</p>
+
+<p>Here is the note that I was trying to decipher through my tears when
+Monsieur de Monbert swaggered into the theatre.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is this a test of love&mdash;a woman's vengeance or an idle caprice,
+Mademoiselle? My mind is not calm enough to solve the enigma. Be
+merciful and drive me not to madness! To-morrow may be too late&mdash;then
+your words of reason might be responded to by the jargon of insanity!
+Beware! and cast aside your cloak of mystery before the sun once more
+goes down upon my frenzy. All is desolation and darkness within and
+without&mdash;nothing appears bright to my eyes, and my soul is wrapped in
+gloom. In your absence I cease to live, but it seems as if my deep love
+gives me still enough strength to hold a wandering pen that my mind no
+longer guides. With my love I gave you my soul and mind&mdash;what remains to
+me would excite your pity. I implore you to restore me to life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You cannot comprehend the ecstasy of a man who loves you, and the
+despair of a man who loses you. Before knowing you I never could have
+imagined these two extremes, separated by a whole world and brought
+together in one instant. To be envied by the angels&mdash;to breathe the air
+of heaven&mdash;to seek among the divine joys for a name to give one's
+happiness, and suddenly, like Lucifer, to be dashed by a thunderbolt
+into an abyss of darkness, and suffer the living death of the damned!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is your work!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, it cannot be a jest, it is not a vengeance; one does not jest with
+real love, one does does not take vengeance on an innocent man; then it
+must be a test! a test! ah well, it has been borne long enough, and my
+bleeding heart cries out to you for mercy. If you prolong this ordeal,
+you will soon have no occasion to doubt my love!... your grief will be
+remorse.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;ROGER.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Yes, you are right this time, my dear Prince; my sorrow is remorse, deep
+remorse; I shall never forgive myself for having been momentarily
+touched by your hear-trending moans and for having shed real tears over
+your dramatic pathos.</p>
+
+<p>I was seated in the corner of our box, trembling with emotion and
+weeping over these tender reproaches&mdash;yes, I wept!&mdash;he seemed so sad, so
+true to me&mdash;I was in an humble frame of mind, thoroughly convinced by
+this touching appeal that I had been wicked and unjust to doubt so
+faithful a heart. I was overcome by the magnitude of my offence&mdash;at
+having caused this great despair by my cruelty. Each word of this
+elaborate dirge was a dagger to my heart; I credulously admired the
+eloquence and simplicity of the style; I accepted as beautiful writing
+all these striking images&mdash;these antitheses full of passion and
+pretension: &quot;<i>Reason responded to by insanity</i>.&quot; &quot;<i>The power of love
+that gives him strength to hold a pen. Extremes separated by a whole
+world and brought together in an instant, and this living death that he
+suffers, this name for his past happiness that had to be sought for
+among the joys of heaven!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I accepted as gospel truth all these high-flown fictions, and was
+astonished at nothing until I came to the <i>Lucifer</i> part; that, I
+confess, rather startled me&mdash;but the finishing tirade composed me. I
+thought it fascinating, thrilling, heart-rending! In my enthusiastic
+pity I was, by way of expiation, admiring the whole letter when I was
+disturbed by a frightful noise made by people entering the adjoining
+box. I felt angry at their insulting my sadness with their heartless
+gayety. I continue to read, admire and weep&mdash;my neighbors continue to
+laugh and make a noise. Amidst this uproar I recognise a familiar
+voice&mdash;I listen&mdash;it is certainly the Prince de Monbert&mdash;I cannot be
+mistaken. Probably he has come here with strangers&mdash;he has travelled so
+much that he is obliged to do the honors of Paris to grand ladies who
+were polite to him abroad&mdash;but from what part of the world could these
+grand ladies have come? They seem to be indulging in a queer style of
+conversation. One of them boldly looked in our box, and exclaimed, &quot;Four
+women! Four monsters!&quot; I recognised her as a woman I had seen at the
+Versailles races&mdash;all was explained.</p>
+
+<p>Then they played a sort of farce for their own pleasure, to the great
+annoyance of the audience. I will give you a sample of it, so you can
+have an idea of the wit and good taste displayed by these gentlemen. The
+most intoxicated of the young men asked, between two yawns, who were the
+authors of <i>Antigone?</i> &quot;Sophocles,&quot; said M. de Monbert. &quot;But there are
+two, are there not?&quot; &quot;Two <i>Antigones?</i>&quot; said the Prince laughing; &quot;yes,
+there is Ballanche's.&quot; &quot;Ah, yes! Ballanche, that is his name,&quot; cried out
+the ignorant creature; &quot;I knew I saw two names on the hand-bill! Do you
+know them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not acquainted with Sophocles,&quot; said the Prince, becoming more and
+more jovial, &quot;but I know Ballanche; I have seen him at the Academy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This brilliant witticism was wonderfully successful; they all clapped so
+loud and laughed so hilariously that the audience became very angry, and
+called out, &quot;Silence!&quot; &quot;Silence!&quot; For a moment the noisy were quiet, but
+soon they were worse than ever, acting like maniacs. At the end of each
+scene, little George de S., who is a mere school-boy, cried out in
+deafening tones: &quot;Bravo! Ballanche!&quot; then turning to the neighboring
+boxes he said: &quot;My friends, applaud; you must encourage the author;&quot; and
+the two bold women clapped their hands and shrieked out, &quot;Let us
+encourage Ballanche! Bravo! Ballanche!&quot; It was absurd.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Taverneau and her friends were indignant; they had heard the
+compliment bestowed upon us&mdash;&quot;Four women. Four monsters!&quot; This rapid
+appreciation of our elegant appearance did not make them feel indulgent
+towards our scandalous neighbors. Near us were several newspaper men who
+gave the names of the Prince de Monbert, the Messrs. de S., and their
+two beauties. These journalists spoke with bitter contempt of what they
+called the young lions of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, of the rude
+manners of the aristocracy, of the ridiculous scruples of those proud
+legitimists, who feared to compromise themselves in the interests of
+their country, and yet were compromised daily by a thousand
+extravagances; then they related falsehoods that were utterly without
+foundation, and yet were made to appear quite probable by the
+disgraceful conduct of the young men before us. You may imagine how
+cruelly I suffered, both as a fianc&eacute;e and as a legitimist. I blushed for
+our party in the presence of the enemy; I felt the insult offered to me
+personally less than I did the abuse brought upon our cause. In
+listening to those deserved sneers I detested Messrs. de S. as much as I
+did Roger. I decided during this hour of vexation and shame that I would
+rather always remain simple Madame Gru&eacute;rin than become the Princess de
+Monbert.</p>
+
+<p>What do you think of this despair, the result of champagne? Ought I not
+to be touched by it? How sweet it is to see one's self so deeply
+regretted!</p>
+
+<p>It is quite poetical and even mythological; Ariadne went no further than
+this. She demanded of Bacchus consolation for the sorrows caused by
+love. How beautifully <i>he</i> sang the hymn to Bacchus in the last act of
+Antigone! He has a fine tenor voice; until now I was not aware of his
+possessing this gift. How happy he seemed among his charming
+companions! Valentine, was I not right in saying that the trial of
+discouragement is infallible? In love despair is a snare; to cease to
+hope is to cease to feign; a man returns to his nature as soon as
+hypocrisy is useless. The Prince has proved to me that he prefers low
+society, that it is his natural element; that he had completely
+metamorphosed himself so as to appear before us as an elegant, refined,
+dignified gentleman!</p>
+
+<p>Oh! this evening he certainly was sincere; his real character was on the
+surface; he made no effort to restrain himself; he was perfectly at
+home, in his element; and one cannot disguise his delight at being in
+his element. There is a carelessness in his movements that betrays his
+self-satisfaction; he struts and spreads himself with an air of
+confidence; he seems to float in the air, to swim on the crest of the
+wave ... People can conceal their delight when they have recognised an
+adored being among a crowd ... can avoid showing that a piece of
+information casually heard is an important fact that they have been
+trying to discover for weeks; ... can hide sudden fear, deep vexation,
+great joy; but they cannot hide this agreeable impression, this
+beatitude that they feel upon suddenly returning to their element, after
+long days of privation and constraint. Well, my dear, the element of
+Monsieur de Monbert is low company. I take credit to myself for not
+saying anything more.</p>
+
+<p>I have often observed these base proclivities in persons of the same
+high condition of life as the Prince. Men brought up in the most refined
+and cultivated society, destined to fill important positions in life,
+take the greatest pleasure in associating-with common people; they
+impose elegance upon themselves as a duty, and indulge in vulgarity as a
+recreation; they have a spite against these charming qualities they are
+compelled to assume, and indemnify themselves for the trouble of
+acquiring them by rendering them mischievously useless when they seek
+low society and attempt to shine where their brilliancy is
+unappreciated. This low tendency of human nature explains the eternal
+struggle between nature and education; explains the taste, the passion
+of intelligent distinguished men for bad company; the more reserved and
+dignified they are in their manners, the more they seek the society of
+worthless men and blemished women. Another reason for this low
+proclivity is the vanity of men; they like to be admired and flattered,
+although they know their admirers are utterly worthless and despicable.</p>
+
+<p>All these turpitudes would be unimportant if our poor nobility were
+still triumphantly occupying their rightful position; but while they are
+struggling to recover their prestige what can be done with such
+representatives? Oh, I hated those little fools who by their culpable
+folly compromised so noble a cause! Can they not see that each of their
+silly blunders furnishes an arm against the principles they defend,
+against their party, against us all? They are at war with a country that
+distrusts their motives and detests and envies their advantages ... and
+they amuse themselves by irritating the country by their aggressive
+hostility and blustering idleness. By thus displaying their ill manners
+and want of sense, it seems as if they wished to justify all the
+accusations of their enemies and gain what they really deserve, a worse
+reputation than they already bear. They are accused of being ignorant
+... they are illiterate! They are accused of being impudent ... They are
+insolent! They are accused of being beasts ... They show themselves to
+be brutes! And yet not much is exacted of them, because they are known
+to be degenerate. Only half what is required from others is expected
+from them. They are not asked for heroism or talent, or genius: they are
+only expected to behave with dignity, they cannot even assume it! They
+are not asked to add to the lustre of their names, they are only
+entreated to respect them&mdash;and they drag them in the mire! Ah, these
+people make me die of shame and indignation.</p>
+
+<p>It is from this nursery of worthless, idle young fops that I, Irene de
+Chateaudun, will be forced to choose a husband. No, never will I suffer
+the millions that Providence has bestowed upon me to be squandered upon
+ballet-dancers and the scum of Paris! If it be absolutely necessary that
+my fortune should be enjoyed by women, I will bestow it upon a convent,
+where I will retire for the rest of my life; but I certainly would
+prefer becoming the wife of a poor, obscure, but noble-minded student,
+thirsting for glory and ambitious of making illustrious his plebeian
+name, seeking among the dust of ages for the secret of fame ... than to
+marry one of the degenerate scions of an old family, who crawl around
+crushed by the weight of their formidable name; these little burlesque
+noblemen who retain nothing of their high position but pride and vanity;
+who can neither think, act, work nor suffer for their country; these
+disabled knights who wage war against bailiffs and make their names
+notorious in the police offices and tap-rooms of the Boulevard.</p>
+
+<p>It is glorious to feel flowing in one's veins noble, heroic blood, to be
+intoxicated with youthful pride when studying the history of one's
+country, to see one's school-mates forced to commit to memory as a duty,
+the brilliant record of the heroic deeds of our ancestors! To enter upon
+a smooth path made easy and pleasant for us by those gone before; to be
+already armed with the remembrance of noble deeds, laden with generous
+promises; to have praiseworthy engagements to fulfil, grand hopes to
+realize; to have in the past powerful protectors, inspiring models that
+one can invoke in the hour of crisis like exceptional patrons, like
+saints belonging exclusively to one's own family; to have one's conduct
+traced out by masters of whom we are proud; to have nothing to
+imagine&mdash;nothing to originate, no good example to set, nothing to do but
+to nobly continue the work grandly commenced, to keep up the tradition,
+to follow the old routine&mdash;it is especially glorious when the tradition
+is of honor, when the routine is of glory.</p>
+
+<p>But who comprehends these sentiments now? Who dares utter these noble
+words without an ironical smile? Only a few helpless believers like
+myself who still energetically but vainly protest against these
+degradations. Some go to Algeria to prove their hereditary bravery and
+obtain the Cross of Honor they are deprived of here; others retire to
+their ch&acirc;teaux and study the fine arts, thus enjoying the only generous
+resource of discouraged souls; surrounded by the true and the beautiful,
+they try to forget an ungrateful and degenerate party. Others, disciples
+of Sully, temper their strength by hard work in the fruitful study of
+sacred science, and become enthusiastic, absorbed husbandmen, in order
+to conceal their misanthropy. But what can they do? Fight all alone for
+a deserted cause? What can the best officers accomplish without
+soldiers?</p>
+
+<p>You see, Valentine, I forget my own sorrows in thinking of our common
+woes; when I reflect upon the sad state of public affairs, I find Roger
+doubly culpable. Possessing so brilliant a mind, such superb talents, he
+could by his influence bring these young fools back to the path of
+honor. How unpardonable it is in him to lead them further astray by his
+dangerous example?</p>
+
+<p>Oh, Valentine! I feel that I am not fitted to live in times like these.
+Everything displeases me. The people of past ages seemed unintelligent,
+impracticable the people of the present day are coarse and
+hypocritical&mdash;the former understand nothing, the latter pervert
+everything. The former had not the attainments that I require, the
+latter have not the delicacy that I exact. The world is ugly; I have
+seen enough of it. It is sad to think of one so young as I, just
+entering upon life, having my head weighed down by the cares and
+disappointments of sixty years! For a blonde head this weight is very
+heavy!</p>
+
+<p>What! in this grand world, not one noble being, not one elevated soul
+possessed of high aspirations and a holy respect for love!</p>
+
+<p>For a young woman to own millions and be compelled to hoard them because
+she has no one to bestow them upon! To be rich, young, free, generous,
+and forced to live alone because no worthy partner can be found!...</p>
+
+<p>Valentine, is not this a sad case?</p>
+
+<p>Now my anger is gone&mdash;I am only sad, but I am mortally sad.... I know
+not what to do.... Would I could fly to your arms! Ah! mother! my
+mother! why am I left to struggle all alone in this unfeeling world!</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XIII'></a><h2>XIII.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+Saint Dominique Street, Paris.<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, June 8th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>She is here! Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!</p>
+
+<p>The same day that you found Irene, I recovered Louise!</p>
+
+<p>In making my tenth pilgrimage from Richeport to Pont de l'Arche, I
+caught a glimpse from afar of Madame Taverneau's plump face encased in a
+superb bonnet embellished with flaming ribbons! The drifting sea-weed
+and floating fruit which were the certain indication to Christopher
+Columbus of the presence of his long-dreamed-of land, did not make his
+heart bound with greater delight than mine at the sight of Madame
+Taverneau's bonnet! For that bonnet was the sign of Louise's return.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! how charming thou didst appear to me then, frightful tulle cabbage,
+with thy flaunting strings like unto an elephant's ears, and thy
+enormous bows resembling those pompons with which horses' heads are
+decorated! How much dearer to me wert thou than the diadem of an
+empress, a vestal's fillet, the ropes of pearls twined among the jetty
+locks of Venice's loveliest patricians, or the richest head-dress of
+antique or modern art!</p>
+
+<p>Ah, but Madame Taverneau was handsome! Her complexion, red as a beet,
+seemed to me fresh as a new-blown rose,&mdash;so the poets always say,&mdash;I
+could have embraced her resolutely, so happy was I.</p>
+
+<p>The thought that Madame Taverneau might have returned alone flashed
+through my mind ere I reached the threshold, and I felt myself grow
+pale, but a glance through the half-open door drove away my terror.
+There, bending over her table, was Louise, rolling grains of rice in red
+sealing-wax in order to fill the interstices between the seals that she
+had gotten from me, and among which figured marvellously well your crest
+so richly and curiously emblazoned.</p>
+
+<p>A slender thread of light falling upon the soft contour of her
+features, carved in cameo their pure and delicate outline. When she saw
+me a faint blush brightened her pallor like a drop of crimson in a cup
+of milk; she was charming, and so distinguished-looking that, putting
+aside the pencils, the vase of flowers, the colors and the glass of
+clear water beside her, I should never have dreamt that a simple
+screen-painter sat before me.</p>
+
+<p>Isn't it strange, when so many fashionable women in the highest position
+look like apple-sellers or old-clothes women in full dress, that a girl
+in the humblest walks of life should have the air of a princess, in
+spite of her printed cotton gown!</p>
+
+<p>With me, dear Roger, Louise Gu&eacute;rin the grisette has vanished; but Louise
+Gu&eacute;rin, a charming and fascinating creature whom any one would be proud
+to love, has taken her place. You know that with all my oddities, my
+wilfulness, my <i>Huronisms</i> as you call them, the slightest equivocal
+word, the least approach to a bold jest, uttered by feminine lips shocks
+me. Louise has never, in the many conversations that I have had with
+her, alarmed my captious modesty; and often the most innocent young
+girls, the virtuous mothers of a family, have made me blush up to my
+eyes. I am by no means so prudish; I discourse upon Trimalcion's feast
+and the orgies of the twelve Caesars, but certain expressions, used by
+every one, never pass my lips; I imagine that I see toads and serpents
+drop from the tongues of those who speak them: only roses and pearls
+fall from Louise's lips. How many women have fallen in my eyes from the
+rank of a goddess to the condition of a fishwoman, by one word whose
+ignominy I might try in vain to make them understand!</p>
+
+<p>I have told you all this, my dear Roger, so that you may see how from an
+ordinary railway adventure, a slight flirtation, has resulted a serious
+and genuine love. I treat myself and things with rough frankness, and
+closely scan my head and heart, and arrive at the same result&mdash;I am
+desperately in love with Louise. The result does not alarm me; I have
+never shrunk from happiness. It is my peculiar style of courage, which
+is rarer than you imagine; I have seen men who would seek the bubble
+reputation even in the cannon's mouth, who had not the courage to be
+happy!</p>
+
+<p>Since her return Louise appears thoughtful and agitated; a change has
+come over the spirit of her dream. It is evident that her journey has
+thrown new light upon her situation. Something important has taken place
+in her life. What is it? I neither know nor care to know. I accept
+Louise as I find her with her present surroundings. Perhaps absence has
+revealed to her, as it has to me, that another existence is necessary to
+her. This at least is certain, she is less shy, less reserved, more
+confiding; there is a tender grace in her manner unfelt before. When we
+walk in the garden, she leans upon my arm, instead of touching it with
+the tips of her fingers. Now, when I am with her, her cold reserve
+begins to thaw, and instead of going on with her work, as formerly, she
+rests her head on her hand and gazes at me with a dreamy fixedness
+singular to behold. She seems to be mentally deliberating something, and
+trying to come to a conclusion. May Eros, with his golden arrows, grant
+that it prove favorable to me! It will prove so, or human will has no
+power, and the magnetic fluid is an error!</p>
+
+<p>We are sometimes alone, but that cursed door is never shut, and Madame
+Taverneau paces up and down outside, coming in at odd moments to enliven
+the conversation with a witticism, in which exercise the good woman,
+unhappily, thinks she excels. She fears that Louise, who is not
+accustomed to the usages of society, may tire me. I am neither a Nero
+nor a Caligula, but many a time have I mentally condemned the honest
+post-mistress to the wild beasts of the Circus!</p>
+
+<p>To get Louise away from this room, whose architecture is by no means
+conducive to love-making, I contrived a boating party to the Andelys,
+with the respectable view of visiting the ruins of Richard
+Coeur-de-Lion's fortress. The ascent is extremely rough, for the donjon
+is poised, like an eagle's nest, upon the summit of a steep rock; and I
+counted upon Madame Taverneau, strangled in her Sunday stays,
+breathless, perspiring, red as a lobster put on hot-water diet, taking
+time half-way up the ascent to groan and fan herself with her
+handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred stopped by on his way from Havre, and for once in his life was in
+season. I placed the rudder in his hands, begging at the same time that
+he would spare me his fascinating smiles, winks and knowing glances. He
+promised to be a stock and kept his word, the worthy fellow!</p>
+
+<p>A fresh breeze sprang up in time to take us up the river. We found
+Louise and Madame Taverneau awaiting us upon the pier, built a short
+time since in order to stem the rush of water from the bridge.</p>
+
+<p>Proud of commanding the embarkation, Alfred established himself with
+Madame Taverneau, wrapped in a yellow shawl with a border of green
+flowers, in the stern. Louise and I, in order to balance the boat,
+seated ourselves in the bows.</p>
+
+<p>The full sail made a sort of tent, and isolated us completely from our
+companions. Louise, with only a narrow canvas shaking in the wind
+between her and her chaperon, feeling no cause for uneasiness, was less
+reserved; a third party is often useful in the beginning of a love idyl.
+The most prudish woman in the world will grant slight favors when sure
+they cannot be abused.</p>
+
+<p>Our boat glided through the water, leaving a fringe of silver in its
+wake. Louise had taken off her glove, and, leaning over the side, let
+the water flow in crystal cascades through her ivory fingers; her dress,
+which she gathered round her from the too free gambols of the wind,
+sculptured her beauty by a closer embrace. A few little wild flowers
+scattered their restless leaves over her bonnet, the straw of which, lit
+up by a bright sun-ray, shed around her a sort of halo. I sat at her
+feet, embracing her with my glance; bathing her in magnetic influences;
+surrounding her with an atmosphere of love! I called to my assistance
+all the powers of my mind and heart to make her love me and promise to
+be mine!</p>
+
+<p>Softly I whispered to myself: &quot;Come to my succor, secret forces of
+nature, spring, youth, delicate perfumes, bright rays! Let soft zephyrs
+play around her pure brow; flowers of love, intoxicate her with your
+searching odors; let the god of day mingle his golden beams with the
+purple of her veins; let all living, breathing things whisper in her ear
+that she is beautiful, only twenty, that I am young and that I love
+her!&quot; Are poetical tirades and romantic declarations absolutely
+necessary to make a lovely woman rest her blushing brow upon a young
+man's shoulder?</p>
+
+<p>My burning gaze fascinated her; she sat motionless under my glance. I
+felt my hope sparkle in my eyes; her eyelids slowly drooped; her arms
+sank at her side; her will succumbed to mine; aware of her growing
+weakness, she made a final effort, covered her eyes with her hand, and
+remained several minutes in that attitude in order to recover from the
+radiations of my will.</p>
+
+<p>When she had, in a measure, recovered her self-possession, she turned
+her head towards the river-bank and called my attention to the charming
+effect of a cottage embosomed in trees, from which rickety steps,
+moss-grown and picturesquely studded with flowers, led down to the
+river. One of Isabey's delicious water-colors, dropped here without his
+signature. Louise&mdash;for art, no matter how humble, always expands the
+mind&mdash;has a taste for the beauties of nature, wanting in nearly her
+whole sex. A flower-stand filled with roses best pleases the majority of
+women, who cultivate a love of flowers in order to provoke anacreontic
+and obsolete comparisons from their antiquated admirers.</p>
+
+<p>The banks of the Seine are truly enchanting. The graceful hills are
+studded with trees and waving corn-fields; here and there a rock peeps
+picturesquely forth; cottages and distant ch&acirc;teaux are betrayed by their
+glittering slate roofs; islets as wild as those of the South Sea rise on
+the bosom of the waters like verdure-clad rafts, and no Captain Cook has
+ever mentioned these Otaheites a half-day's journey from Paris.</p>
+
+<p>Louise intelligently and feelingly admired the shading of the foliage,
+the water rippled by a slight breeze, the rapid flight of the
+kingfisher, the languid swaying to and fro of the water-lily, the
+little forget-me-nots opening their timid blue eyes to the morning sun,
+and all the thousand and one beauties dotted along the river's bank. I
+let her steep her soul in nature's loveliness, which could only teach
+her to love.</p>
+
+<p>In about four hours we reached the Andelys, and after a light lunch of
+fresh eggs, cream, strawberries and cherries, we began the ascent to the
+fortress of the brave king Richard.</p>
+
+<p>Alfred got along famously with Madame Taverneau, having completely
+dazzled her by an account of his high social acquaintance. During the
+voyage he had repeated more names than can be found in the Royal
+Almanac. The good post-mistress listened with respectful deference,
+delighted at finding herself in company with such a highly connected
+individual. Alfred, who is not accustomed, among us, to benevolent
+listeners, gave himself up to the delight of being able to talk without
+fear of interruption from jests and ironical puns. They had charmed each
+other.</p>
+
+<p>The stronghold of Richard Coeur-de-Lion recalls, by its situation and
+architecture, the castles of the Rhine. The stone-work is so confounded
+with the rock that it is impossible to say where nature's work ends or
+man's work begins.</p>
+
+<p>We climbed, Louise and I, in spite of the steep ascent, the loose
+stones, over the ramparts fallen to decay, the brushwood and all sorts
+of obstacles, to the foot of the mass of towers built one within
+another, which form the donjon-keep. Louise was obliged more than once,
+in scrambling up the rocks, to give me her hand and lean upon my
+shoulder. Even when the way was less rugged, she did not put aside her
+unconstrained and confiding manner; her timid and intense reserve began
+to soften a little.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Taverneau, who is not a sylph, hung with all her weight to
+Alfred's arm, and what surprises me is that she did not pull it off.</p>
+
+<p>We made our way through the under-brush, masses of rubbish and crumbling
+walls, to the platform of the massive keep, from whence we saw, besides
+the superb view, far away in the distance, Madame Taverneau's yellow
+shawl, shining through the foliage like a huge beetle.</p>
+
+<p>At this height, so far above the world, intoxicated by the fresh air,
+her cheek dyed a deeper red, her hair loosened from its severe
+fastenings, Louise was dazzlingly and radiantly beautiful; her bonnet
+had fallen off and was only held by the ribbon strings; a handful of
+daisies escaped from her careless grasp.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What a pity,&quot; said I, &quot;that I have not a familiar spirit at my service!
+We should soon see the stones replaced, the towers rise from the grass
+where they have slept so long, and raise their heads in the sunlight;
+the drawbridge slide on its hinges, and men-at-arms in dazzling
+cuirasses pass and repass behind the battlements. You should sit beside
+me as my chatelaine, in the great hall, under a canopy emblazoned with
+armorial bearings, the centre of a brilliant retinue of ladies in
+waiting, archers and varlets. You should be the dove of this kite's
+nest!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This fancy made her smile, and she replied: &quot;Instead of amusing yourself
+in rebuilding the past, look at the magnificent scene stretched out
+before you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In fact, the sky was gorgeous; the sun was sinking behind the horizon,
+in a hamlet of clouds, ruined and abandoned to the fury of the names of
+sunset; the darkened hills were shrouded in violet tints; through the
+light mists of the valley the river shone at intervals like the polished
+surface of a Damascus blade. The blue smoke ascended from the chimneys
+of the village of Andelys, nestling at the foot of the mountain; the
+silvery tones of the bells ringing the Angelus came to us on the evening
+breeze; Venus shone soft and pure in the western sky. Madame Taverneau
+had not yet joined us; Alfred's fascinations had made her forget her
+companion.</p>
+
+<p>Louise, uneasy at being so long separated from her chaperon, leaned over
+the edge of the battlement. A stone, which only needed the weight of a
+tired swallow to dislodge it, rolled from Under Louise's foot, who,
+terribly frightened, threw herself in my arms. I held her for a moment
+pressed to my heart. She was very pale; her head was thrown back, the
+dizziness of lofty heights had taken possession of her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not let me fall; my head whirls!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fear not,&quot; I replied; &quot;I am holding you, and the spirit of the gulf
+shall not have you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ouf! What an insane idea, to climb like cats over this old pile of
+stones!&quot; cried Alfred, who had finally arrived, dragging after him
+Madame Taverneau, who with her shawl looked like a poppy in a
+corn-field. We left the tower and gained our boat. Louise threw me a
+tearful and grateful glance, and seated herself by Madame Taverneau. A
+tug-boat passed us; we hailed it; it threw us a rope, and in a few hours
+we were at Pont de l'Arche.</p>
+
+<p>This is a faithful account of our expedition; it is nothing, and yet a
+great deal. It is sufficient to show me that I possess some influence
+over Louise; that my look fascinates her, my voice affects her, my touch
+agitates her; for one moment I held her trembling against my heart; she
+did not repulse me. It is true that by a little feminine Jesuitism,
+common enough, she might ascribe all this to vertigo, a sort of vertigo
+common to youth and love, which has turned more heads than all the
+precipices of Mount Blanc!</p>
+
+<p>What a strange creature is Louise! An inexplicable mixture of acute
+intelligence and virgin modesty, displaying at the same time an
+ignorance and information never imagined. These piquant contrasts make
+me admire her all the more. The day after to-morrow Madame Taverneau is
+going on business to Rouen. Louise will be alone, and I intend to repeat
+the donjon scene, with improvements and deprived of the inopportune
+appearance of Madame Taverneau's yellow shawl and the luckless Alfred's
+green hunting-dress. What delicious dreams will visit me to-night in my
+hammock at Richeport!</p>
+
+<p>My next letter will begin, I hope, with this triumphant line of the
+Chevalier de Bertin:</p>
+
+&quot;Elle est &agrave; moi, divinit&eacute;s du Pinde!&quot;<br />
+
+<p>Good-bye, my dear Roger. I wish you good luck in your search. Since you
+have once seen Irene, she cannot wear Gyges' ring. You may meet her
+again; but if you have to make your way through six Boyars, three
+Moldavians, eleven bronze statues, ten check-sellers, crush a multitude
+of King Charles spaniels, upset a crowd of fruit-stands, go straight as
+a bullet towards your beauty; seize her by the tip of her wing, politely
+but firmly, like a gendarme; for the Prince Roger de Monbert must not be
+the plaything of a capricious Parisian heiress.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XIV'></a><h2>XIV.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES;<br />
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+PONT DE L'ARCHE, June 18th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>I have only time to send you a line with the box of ribbons The trunk
+will go to-morrow by the stage. I would have sent it before, but the
+children's boots were not done. It is impossible to get anything done
+now&mdash;the storekeepers say they can't get workmen, the workmen say they
+can't get employment. Blanchard will be in Paris to superintend its
+packing. If you are not pleased with your things, especially the blue
+dress and mauve bonnet, I despair of ever satisfying you. I did not take
+your sashes to Mlle. <i>Vatelin</i>. It was Prince de Monbert's fault; in
+passing along the Boulevards I saw him talking to a gentleman&mdash;I turned
+into Panorama street&mdash;he followed me, and to elude him I went into the
+Chinese store. M. de Monbert remained outside; I bought some tea, and
+telling the woman I would send for it, went out by the opposite door
+which opens on Vivienne street. The Prince, who has been away from Paris
+for ten years, was not aware of this store having two exits, so in this
+way I escaped him. This hateful prince is also the cause of my returning
+here. The day after that wretched evening at the Odeon, I went to
+inquire about my cousin. There I found that Madame de Langeac had left
+Fontainebleau and gone to Madame de H.'s, where they are having private
+theatricals. She returns to Paris in ten days, where she begs me to wait
+for her. I also heard that M. de Monbert had had quite a scene with the
+porter on the same morning&mdash;insisting that he had seen me, and that he
+would not be put off by lying servants any longer; his language and
+manner quite shocked the household. The prospect of a visit from him
+filled me with fright. I returned to my garret&mdash;Madame Taverneau was
+anxiously waiting for my return, and carried me off without giving me
+anytime for reflection; so I am here once more. Perhaps you think that
+in this rural seclusion, under the shade of these willows, I ought to
+find tranquillity? Just the reverse. A new danger threatens me; I escape
+from a furious prince, to be ensnared by a delirious poet. I went away
+leaving M. de Meilhan gracious, gallant, but reasonable; I return to
+find him presuming, passionate, foolish. It makes me think that absence
+increases my attractiveness, and separation clothes me with new charms.</p>
+
+<p>This devotion is annoying, and I am determined to nip it in the bud; it
+fills me with a horrible dread that in no way resembles the charming
+fear I have dreamed of. The young poet takes a serious view of the
+flattery I bestowed upon him only in order to discover what his friend
+had written about me; he has persuaded himself that I love him, and I
+despair of being able to dispel the foolish notion.</p>
+
+<p>I have uselessly assumed the furious air of an angry Minerva, the
+majestic deportment of the Queen of England opening Parliament, the
+prudish, affected behavior of a school-mistress on promenade; all this
+only incites his hopes. If it were love it might be seductive and
+dangerous, but it is nothing more than magnetism.... You may laugh, but
+it is surely this and nothing else; he acts as if he were under some
+spell of fascination; he looks at me in a malevolent way that he thinks
+irresistible.... But I find it unendurable. I shall end by frankly
+telling him that in point of magnetism I am no longer free ... &quot;that I
+love another,&quot; as the vaudeville says, and if he asks who is this other,
+I shall smilingly tell him, &quot;it is the famous disciple of Mesmer, Dr.
+Dupotet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday his foolish behavior was very near causing my death. Alarmed
+by an embarrassing t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te in the midst of an old castle we were
+visiting, I mounted the window-sill in one of the towers to call Madame
+Taverneau, whom I saw at the foot of the hill; the stone on which I
+stood gave way, and if M. de Meilhan had not shown great presence of
+mind and caught me, I would have fallen down a precipice forty feet
+deep! Instant death would have been the result. Oh! how frightened I
+was! I tremble yet. My terror was so great that I would have fainted if
+I had had a little more confidence; but another fear made me recover
+from this. Fortunately I am going away from here, and this trifling will
+be over.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, certainly I will accompany you to Geneva. Why can't we go as far as
+Lake Como? What a charming trip to take, and what comfort we will enjoy
+in my nice carriage! You must know that my travelling-carriage is a
+wonder; it is being entirely renovated, and directly it is finished, I
+will jump in it and fly to your arms. Of course you will ask what I am
+to do with a travelling-carriage&mdash;I who have never made but one journey
+in my life, and that from the Marais to the Faubourg Saint Honor&eacute;? I
+will reply, that I bought this carriage because I had the opportunity;
+it is a chef-d'oeuvre. There never was a handsomer carriage made in
+London. It was invented&mdash;and you will soon see what a splendid invention
+it is&mdash;for an immensely rich English lady who is always travelling, and
+who is greatly distressed at having to sell it, but she believes herself
+pursued by an audacious young lover whom she wishes to get rid of, and
+as he has always recognised her by her carriage, she parts with it in
+order to put him off her track. She is an odd sort of woman whom they
+call Lady Penock; she resembles Levassor in his English r&ocirc;les; that is
+to say, she is a caricature. Levassor would not dare to be so
+ridiculous.</p>
+
+<p>Good-bye, until I see you. When I think that in one month we shall be
+together again, I forget all my sorrows.</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XV'></a><h2>XV.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,<br />
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, June 19th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>It is useless to slander the police; we are obliged to resort to them in
+our dilemmas; the police are everywhere, know everything, and are
+infallible. Without the police Paris would go to ruin; they are the
+hidden fortification, the invisible rampart of the capital; its numerous
+agents are the detached forts. Fouch&eacute; was the Vauban of this wonderful
+system, and since Fouch&eacute;'s time, the art has been steadily approaching
+perfection. There is to-day, in every dark corner of the city an eye
+that watches over our fifty-four gates, and an ear that hears the
+pulsations of all the streets, those great arteries of Paris.</p>
+
+<p>The incapacity of my own agents making me despair of discovering
+anything; I went to the Polyphemus of Jerusalem street, a giant whose
+ever open eye watches every Ulysses. They told me in the office&mdash;Return
+in three days.</p>
+
+<p>Three centuries that I had to struggle through! How many centuries I
+have lived during the last month!</p>
+
+<p>The police! Why did not this luminous idea enter my mind before?</p>
+
+<p>At this office of public secrets they said to me: Mlle. de Chateaudun
+left Paris five days ago. On the 12th she passed the night at Sens; she
+then took the route to Burgundy; changed horses at Villevallier, and on
+the 14th stopped at the ch&acirc;teau of Madame de Lorgeville, seven miles
+from Avallon.</p>
+
+<p>The particularity of this information startled me. What wonderful
+clock-work! What secret wheels! What intelligent mechanism! It is the
+machine of Marly applied to a human river. At Rome a special niche would
+have been devoted to the goddess of Police.</p>
+
+<p>What a lesson to us! How circumspect it should make us! Our walls are
+diaphanous, our words are overheard; our steps are watched ...
+everything said and done reaches by secret informers and invisible
+threads the central office of Jerusalem street. It is enough to make one
+tremble!!!</p>
+
+<p><i>At the ch&acirc;teau of Mad. de Lorgeville</i>!</p>
+
+<p>I walked along repeating this sentence to myself, with a thousand
+variations: At the ch&acirc;teau of Mad. de Lorgeville.</p>
+
+<p>After a decennial absence, I know nobody in Paris&mdash;I am just as much of
+a stranger as the ambassador of Siam.... Who knows Mad. de Lorgeville?
+M. de Balaincourt is the only person in Paris who can give me the
+desired information&mdash;he is a living court calendar. I fly to see M. de
+Balaincourt.</p>
+
+<p>This oracle answers me thus: Mad. de Lorgeville is a very beautiful
+woman, between twenty-four and twenty-six years of age. She possesses a
+magnificent <i>mezzo-soprano</i> voice, and twenty thousand dollars income.
+She learnt miniature painting from Mad. Mirbel, and took singing lessons
+from Mad. Damoyeau. Last winter she sang that beautiful duo from Norma,
+with the Countess Merlin, at a charity concert.</p>
+
+<p>I requested further details.</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Lorgeville is the sister of the handsome L&eacute;on de Var&egrave;zes.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! ray of light! glimmer of sun through a dark cloud!</p>
+
+<p>The handsome L&eacute;on de Var&egrave;zes! The ugly idea of troubadour beauty! A fop
+fashioned by his tailor, and who passes his life looking at his figure
+reflected in four mirrors as shiny and cold as himself!</p>
+
+<p>I pressed M. de Balaincourt's hand and once again plunged into the
+vortex of Paris.</p>
+
+<p>If the handsome L&eacute;on were only hideous I would feel nothing but
+indifference towards him, but he has more sacred rights to my hatred, as
+you will see.</p>
+
+<p>Three months ago this handsome L&eacute;on made a proposal of marriage to Mlle.
+de Chateaudun&mdash;she refused him. This is evidently a preconcerted plan;
+or it is a ruse. The handsome L&eacute;on had a lady friend well known by
+everybody but himself, and he has deferred this marriage in order to
+gild, after the manner of Ruolz, his last days of bachelorhood;
+meanwhile Mlle. de Chateaudun received her liberty, and during this
+truce I have played the r&ocirc;le of suitor. Either of these conjectures is
+probable&mdash;both may be true&mdash;one is sufficient to bring about a
+catastrophe!</p>
+
+<p>This fact is certain, the handsome L&eacute;on is at the waters of Ems enjoying
+his expiring hours of single-blessedness in the society of his painted
+friend, and his family are keeping Mile. de Chateaudun at the Ch&acirc;teau de
+Lorgeville till the season at Ems is over. In a few days the handsome
+L&eacute;on, on pretence of important business, will leave his Dulcinea, and,
+considering himself freed from an unlawful yoke, will come to the
+Ch&acirc;teau de Lorgeville to offer his innocent hand and pure homage to
+Mile. de Chateaudun. In whatever light the matter is viewed, I am a
+dupe&mdash;a butt! I know well that people say: &quot;<i>Prince Roger is a good
+fellow</i>&quot; With this reputation a man is exposed to all the feline
+wickedness of human nature, but when once aroused &quot;the good fellow&quot; is
+transformed, and all turn pale in his presence.</p>
+
+<p>No, I can never forgive a woman who holds before me a picture of bliss,
+and then dashes it to the ground&mdash;she owes me this promised happiness,
+and if she tries to fly from me I have a right to cry &quot;stop thief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Mlle. de Chateaudun, you thought you could break my heart, and leave
+me nothing to cherish but the phantom of memory! Well! I promise you
+another ending to your play than you looked for! We will meet again!</p>
+
+<p>Stupid idiot that I was, to think of writing her an apology to vindicate
+my innocent share of the scene at the Odeon! Vindication well spared!
+How she would have laughed at my honest candor!... She shall not have an
+opportunity of laughing! Dear Edgar, in writing these disconsolate lines
+I have lost the calmness that I had imposed upon myself when I began my
+letter. I feel that I am devoured by that internal demon that bears a
+woman's name in the language of love&mdash;jealousy! Yes, jealousy fills my
+soul with bitterness, encircles my brow with a band of iron, and makes
+me feel a frenzied desire to murder some fellow-being! During my travels
+I lost the tolerant manners of civilization. I have imbibed the rude
+cruelty of savages&mdash;my jealousy is filled with the storms and fire of
+the equator.</p>
+
+<p>What do you pale effeminate young men know of jealousy? Is not your
+professor of jealousy the actor who dashes about on the stage with a
+paste-board sword?</p>
+
+<p>I have studied the monster under other masters; tigers have taught me
+how to manage this passion.</p>
+
+<p>Dear Edgar, once night overtook us amidst the ruins of the fort that
+formerly defended the mouth of the river Caveri in Bengal. It was a dark
+night illumined by a single star like the lamp of the subterranean
+temple of Elephanta. But this lone star was sufficient to throw light
+upon the formidable duel that took place before us upon the sloping bank
+of the ruined fort.</p>
+
+<p>It was the season of love ... how sweet is the sound of these words!</p>
+
+<p>A tawny monster with black spots, belonging to the fair sex of her noble
+race, was calmly quenching her thirst in the river Caveri&mdash;after she had
+finished drinking she squatted on her hind feet and stretched her
+forepaws in front of her breast&mdash;sphinx-like&mdash;and luxuriously rubbed her
+head in and out among the soft leaves scattered on the riverside.</p>
+
+<p>At a little distance the two lovers watched&mdash;not with their eyes but
+with their nostrils and ears, and their sharp growl was like the breath
+of the khamsin passing through the branches of the euphorbium and the
+nopal. The two monsters gradually reached the paroxysm of amorous rage;
+they flattened their ears, sharpened their claws, twisted their tails
+like flexible steel, and emitted sparks of fire from eyes and skin.</p>
+
+<p>During this prelude the tigress stretched herself out with stoical
+indifference, pretending to take no interest in the scene&mdash;as if she
+were the only animal of her race in the desert. At intervals she would
+gaze with delight at the reflected image of her grace and beauty in the
+river Caveri.</p>
+
+<p>A roar that seemed to burst from the breast of a giant crushed beneath a
+rock, echoed through the solitude. One of the tigers described an
+immense circle in the air and then fell upon the neck of his rival. The
+two tawny enemies stood up on their hind legs, clenching each other like
+two wrestlers, body to body, muzzle to muzzle, teeth to teeth, and
+uttering shrill, rattling cries that cut through the air like the
+clashing of steel blades. Ordinary huntsmen would have fired upon this
+monstrous group. We judged it more noble to respect the powerful hate of
+this magnificent love. As usual the aggressor was the strongest; he
+threw his rival to the ground, crushed him with his whole weight, tore
+him with his claws, and then fastening his long teeth in his victim's
+throat, laid him dead upon the grass&mdash;uttering, as he did so, a cry of
+triumph that rang through the forest like the clarion of a conqueror.</p>
+
+<p>The tigress remained in the same spot, quietly licking her paw, and when
+it was quite wet rubbed it over her muzzle and ears with imperturbable
+serenity and charming coquetry.</p>
+
+<p>This scene contained a lesson for both sexes, my dear Edgar. When nature
+chooses our masters she chooses wisely.</p>
+
+<p>Heaven preserve you from jealousy! I do not mean to honor by this name
+that fickle, unjust, common-place sentiment that we feel when our vanity
+assumes the form of love. The jealousy that gnaws my heart is a noble
+and legitimate passion. Not to avenge one's self is to give a premium of
+encouragement to wicked deeds. The forgiveness of wrongs and injuries
+puts certain men and women too much at their ease. Vengeance is
+necessary for the protection of society.</p>
+
+<p>Dear Edgar, tell me of your love; fear not to wound me by a picture of
+your happiness; my heart is too sympathetic for that. Tell me the traits
+that please you most in the object of your tenderness. Let your soul
+expand in her sweet smiles&mdash;revel in the intoxicating bliss of those
+long happy talks filled with the enchanting grace and music of a first
+love.</p>
+
+<p>After reading my letter, remove my gloomy picture from your mind&mdash;forget
+me quietly; let not a thought of my misery mar your present happiness.</p>
+
+<p>I intend to honor the handsome L&eacute;on by devoting my personal attention to
+his future fate.</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XVI'></a><h2>XVI.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+St. Dominique Street (Paris).<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, June 23d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>You place a confidence in the police worthy the prince you are, dear
+Roger; you rely upon their information with a faith that surprises and
+alarms me. How do you expect the police to know anything concerning
+honest people? Never having watched them, being too much occupied with
+scoundrels, they do not know how to go about it. Spies and detectives
+are generally miserable wretches, their name even is a gross insult in
+our language; they are acquainted with the habits and movements of
+thieves, whose dens and haunts they frequent; but what means have they
+of fathoming the whimsical motives of a high-born young girl? Their
+forte is in making a servant drunk, bribing a porter, following a
+carriage or standing sentinel before a door. If Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun has gone away to avoid you, she will naturally suppose that
+you will endeavor to follow her. Of course, she has taken every
+precaution to preserve her incognita&mdash;changing her name, for
+instance&mdash;which would be sufficient to mystify the police, who, until
+applied to by you, have had no object in watching her movements. The
+proof that the police are mistaken is the exactitude of the information
+that they have given you. It is too much like the depositions of
+witnesses in a criminal trial, who say: &quot;Two years ago, at thirty-three
+minutes and five seconds after nine o'clock in the evening, I met, in
+the dark, a slender man, whose features I could not distinguish, who
+wore olive-green pantaloons, with a brownish tinge.&quot; I am very much
+afraid that your expedition into Burgundy will be of none avail, and
+that, haggard-eyed and morose, you will drop in upon a quiet family
+utterly amazed at your domiciliary visit.</p>
+
+<p>My dear Prince, endeavor to recollect that you are not in India; the
+manners of the Sunda Isles do not prevail here, and I feared from your
+letter some desperate act which would put you in the power of your
+friends, the police. In Europe we have professors of &aelig;sthetics,
+Sanscrit, Slavonic, dancing and fencing, but professors of jealousy are
+not authorized. There is no chair in the College of France for wild
+beasts; lessons expressed in roarings and in blows from savage paws do
+very well for the fabulous tiger city of Java legends. If you are
+jealous, try to deprive your rival of the railroad grant which he was
+about to obtain, or ruin him in his electoral college by spreading the
+report that, in his youth, he had written a volume of sonnets. This is
+constitutional revenge which will not bring you before the bar of
+justice. The courts now-a-days are so tricky that they might give you
+some trouble even for suppressing such an insipid fop as L&eacute;on de
+Var&egrave;zes. Tigers, whatever you may say, are bad instructors. With regard
+to tigers, we only tolerate cats, and then they must have velvet paws.</p>
+
+<p>These counsels of moderation addressed to you, I have profited by
+myself, for, in another way, I have reached a fine degree of
+exasperation. You suspect, of course, that Louise Gu&eacute;rin is at the
+bottom of it, for a woman is always at the bottom of every man's
+madness. She is the leaven that ferments all our worst passions.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Taverneau set out for Rouen; I went to see Louise, my heart full
+of joy and hope. I found her alone, and at first thought that the
+evening would be decisive, for she blushed high on seeing me. But who
+the deuce can count upon women! I left her the evening before, sweet,
+gentle and confiding; I found her cold, stern, repelling and talking to
+me as if she had never seen me before. Her manner was so convincing that
+nothing had passed between us, that I found it necessary to take a rapid
+mental survey of all the occurrences of our expedition to the Andelys to
+prove to myself that I was not somebody else. I may have a thousand
+faults, but vanity is not among them. I rarely flatter myself,
+consequently I am not prone to believe that every one is thunder-struck,
+in the language of the writers of the past century, on beholding me. My
+interpretation of glances, smiles, tones of the voice are generally
+very faithful; I do not pass over expressions that displease me. I put
+this interpretation upon Louise's conduct. I do not feel an insuperable
+dislike to M. Edgar de Meilhan. Sure of the meaning of my text, I acted
+upon it, but Louise assumed such imposing and royal airs, such haughty
+and disdainful poses, that unless I resorted to violence I felt I could
+obtain nothing from her. Rage, instead of love, possessed me; my hands
+clenched convulsively, driving the nails into my flesh. The scene would
+have turned into a struggle. Fortunately, I reflected that such
+emphasized declarations of love, with the greater part of romantic and
+heroic actions, were not admitted in the Code.</p>
+
+<p>I left abruptly, lest the following elegant announcement should appear
+in the police gazettes: &quot;Mr. Edgar de Meilhan, landed proprietor, having
+made an attack upon Madame Louise Gu&eacute;rin, screen-painter, &amp;c.&quot;&mdash;for I
+felt the strongest desire to strangle the object of my devotion, and I
+think I should have done so had I remained ten minutes longer.</p>
+
+<p>Admire, dear Roger, the wisdom of my conduct, and endeavor to imitate
+it. It is more commendable to control one's passions than an army, and
+it is more difficult.</p>
+
+<p>My wrath was so great that I went to Mantes to see Alfred! To open the
+door of paradise and then shut it in my face, spread before me a
+splendid banquet and prevent me from sitting down to it, promise me love
+and then offer me prudery, is an infamous, abominable and even
+indelicate act. Do you know, dear Roger, that I just escaped looking
+like a goose; the rage that possessed me gave a tragic expression to my
+features, which alone saved me from ridicule! Such things we never
+forgive a woman, and Louise shall pay me yet!</p>
+
+<p>I swear to you that if a woman of my own rank had acted thus towards me,
+I should have crushed her without mercy; but Louise's humble position
+restrained me. I feel a pity for the weak which will be my ruin; for the
+weak are pitiless towards the strong.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Alfred must be an excellent fellow not to have thrown me out of
+the window. I was so dull with him, so provoking, so harsh, so scoffing,
+that I am astonished that he could endure me for two minutes. My nerves
+were in such a state of irritation that I beheaded with my whip more
+than five hundred poppies along the road. I who never have committed an
+assault upon any foliage, whose conscience is innocent of the murder of
+a single flower! For a moment I had a notion to ask a catafalque of the
+romantic Marquise. You may judge from that the disordered state of my
+faculties and my complete moral prostration.</p>
+
+<p>At last, ashamed of abusing Alfred's hospitality in such a manner, and
+feeling incapable of being anything else than irritable, cross-grained
+and intractable, I returned to Richeport, to be as gloomy and
+disagreeable as I pleased.</p>
+
+<p>Here, dear Roger, I pause&mdash;I take time, as the actors say; it is worth
+while. As fluently as you may read hieroglyphics, and explain on the
+spot the riddles of the sphinx, you can never guess what I found at
+Richeport, in my mother's room! A white black-bird? a black swan? a
+crocodile? a megalonyx? Priest John or the amorabaquin? No, something
+more enchantingly improbable, more wildly impossible. What was it? I
+will tell you, for a hundred million guesses would never bring you
+nearer the truth.</p>
+
+<p>Near the window, by my mother's side, sat a young woman, bending over an
+embroidery frame, threading a needle with red worsted. At the sound of
+my voice she raised her head and I recognised&mdash;Louise Gru&eacute;rin!</p>
+
+<p>At this unexpected sight, I stood stupified, like Pradon's Hippolyte.</p>
+
+<p>To see Louise Gu&eacute;rin quietly seated in my mother's room, was as
+electrifying as if you, on going home some morning, were to find Irene
+de Chateaudun engaged in smoking one of your cigars. Did some strange
+chance, some machiavellian combination introduce Louise at Richeport? I
+shall soon know.</p>
+
+<p>What a queer way to avoid men, to take up one's abode among them! Only
+prudes have such ideas. At any rate it is a gross insult to my powers
+of fascination. I am not such a patriarch as all that! My head still
+counts a few hairs, and I can walk very well without a cane!</p>
+
+<p>What does it matter, after all? Louise lives under the same roof with
+me, my mother treats her in the most gracious manner, like an equal.
+And, indeed, one would be deceived by her; she seems more at her ease
+here than at Madame Taverneau's, and what would be a restraint on a
+woman of her class, on the contrary gives her more liberty. Her manners
+have become charming, and I often ask myself if she is not the daughter
+of one of Madame de Meilhan's friends. With wonderful tact she
+immediately put herself in unison with her surroundings; women alone can
+quickly become acclimated in a higher sphere. A man badly brought up
+always remains a booby. Any danseuse taken from the foot-lights of the
+Opera by the caprice of a great lord, can be made a fine lady. Nature
+has doubtless provided for these sudden elevations of fortune by
+bestowing upon women that marvellous facility of passing from one
+position to another without exhibiting surprise or being thrown out of
+their element. Put Louise into a carriage having a countess's crown upon
+the panel of the door, and no one would doubt her rank. Speak to her,
+and she would reply as if she had had the most brilliant education. The
+auspicious opening of a flower transplanted into a soil that suits it,
+shone through Louise's whole being. My manner towards her partakes of a
+tenderer playfulness, a more affectionate gallantry. After all,
+Richeport is better than Pont de l'Arche, for there is nothing like
+fighting on your own ground.</p>
+
+<p>Come then, my friend, and be a looker-on at the courteous tournay. We
+expect Raymond every day; we have all sorts of paradoxes to convert into
+truths; your insight into such matters might assist us. <i>A bient&ocirc;t</i>.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XVII'></a><h2>XVII.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, June 29th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>I am at Richeport, at Madame de Meilhan's house!... This astonishes you,
+... so it does me; you don't understand it, ... neither do I. The fact
+is, that when you can't control events, the best thing to be done is to
+let events control you.</p>
+
+<p>On Sunday I went to hear mass in the beautiful church at Pont de
+l'Arche, a splendid ruin that looks like a heap of stony lacework,
+lovely guipure torn to pieces; while I was there a lady came in and sat
+beside me; it was Madame de Meilhan. I recognised her at once, having
+been accustomed to seeing her every Sunday at mass. As it was late, and
+the services were almost ended, I thought it very natural that she
+should sit by me to avoid walking the length of the aisle to reach her
+own pew, so I continued to read my prayers without paying any attention
+to her, but she fastened her eyes upon me in such a peculiar way that I,
+in my turn, felt compelled to look up at her, and was startled by the
+alteration of her face; suddenly she tottered and fell fainting on
+Madame Taverneau's shoulder. She was taken out of the church, and the
+fresh air soon restored her to consciousness. She seemed agitated when
+she saw me near her, but the interest I showed in her sickness seemed to
+reassure her; she gracefully thanked me for my kind attention, and then
+looked at me in a way that was very embarrassing. I invited her to
+return with me to Madame Taverneau's and rest herself; she accepted the
+offer, and Madame Taverneau carried her off with great pomp. There
+Madame de Meilhan explained how she had walked alone from Richeport in
+spite of the excessive heat, at the risk of making herself ill, because
+her son had taken the coachman and horses and left home suddenly that
+morning without saying where he was going. As she said this she looked
+at me significantly. I bore these questioning looks with proud
+calmness. I must tell you that the evening before, M de Meilhan had
+called on me during the absence of Madame Taverneau and her husband. The
+danger of the situation inspired me. I treated him with such coldness, I
+reached a degree of dignity so magnificent that the great poet finally
+comprehended there are some glaciers inaccessible, even to him. He left
+me, furious and disconsolate, but I do him the justice to say that he
+was more disconsolate than furious. This real sorrow made me think
+deeply. If he loved me seriously, how culpable was my conduct! I had
+been too coquettish towards him; he could not know that this coquetry
+was only a ruse; that while appearing to be so devoted to him my whole
+mind was filled with another. Sincere love should always be respected;
+one is not compelled to share it, but then one has no right to insult
+it.</p>
+
+<p>The uneasiness of Madame de Meilhan; her conduct towards me&mdash;for I was
+certain she had purposely come late to mass and taken a seat by me for
+the purpose of speaking to me and finding out what sort of a person I
+was&mdash;the uneasiness of this devoted mother was to me a language more
+convincing of the sincerity of her son's sentiments than all the
+protestations of love he could have uttered in years. A mother's anxiety
+is an unmistakable symptom; it is more significant than all others. The
+jealousy of a rival is not so certain an indication; distrustful love
+may be deceived, but maternal instinct <i>never</i> is. Now, to induce a
+woman of Madame de Meilhan's spirit and character to come agitated and
+trembling to see me, ... why, I can say it without vanity, her son must
+be madly in love, and she wished at all costs either to destroy or cure
+this fatal passion that made him so unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>When she arose to leave, I asked permission to walk back with her to
+Richeport, as she was not well enough to go so far alone; she eagerly
+accepted my offer, and as we went along, conversing upon indifferent
+subjects, her uneasiness gradually disappeared; our conversation seemed
+to relieve her mind of its heavy burden.</p>
+
+<p>It happened that truth spoke for itself, as it always does, but
+unfortunately is not always listened to. By my manners, the tone of my
+voice, my respectful but dignified politeness&mdash;which in no way resembled
+Mad. Taverneau's servile and obsequious eagerness to please, her humble
+deference being that of an inferior to a superior, whilst mine was
+nothing more than that due to an old lady from a young one&mdash;by these
+shades insignificant to the generality of people, but all revealing to
+an experienced eye, Mad. de Meilhan at once divined everything, that is
+to say, that I was her equal in rank, education and nobility of soul;
+she knew it, she felt it. This fact admitted, one thing remained
+uncertain; why had I fallen from my rank in society? Was it through
+misfortune or error? This was the question she was asking herself.</p>
+
+<p>I knew enough of her projects for the future, her ambition as a mother,
+to decide which of the two suppositions would alarm her most. If I were
+a light, trifling woman, as she every now and then seemed to hope, her
+son was merely engaged in a flirtation that would have no dangerous
+result; if on the contrary I was an honorable woman, which she evidently
+feared might be the case, her son's future was ruined, and she trembled
+for the consequences of this serious passion. Her perplexity amused me.
+The country around us was superb, and as we walked along I went into
+ecstasies over the beauty of the scenery and the lovely tints of the
+sky; she would smile and think: &quot;She is only an artist, an
+adventuress&mdash;I am saved; she will merely be Edgar's friend, and keep him
+all the winter at Richeport.&quot; Alas! it is a great pity that she is not
+rich enough to spend the winter in Paris with Edgar; she seems miserable
+at being separated from him for months at a time.</p>
+
+<p>At a few yards from the ch&acirc;teaux a group of pretty children chasing a
+poor donkey around a little island attracted my attention.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That island formerly belonged to the Richeport estate,&quot; said Mad. de
+Meilhan; &quot;so did those large meadows you see down below; the height of
+my ambition is to buy them back, but to do this Edgar must marry an
+heiress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This word troubled me, and Mad. de Meilhan seemed annoyed. She evidently
+thought: &quot;She is an honest woman, and wants to marry Edgar, I fear,&quot; I
+took no notice of her sudden coldness of manner, but thought to myself:
+How delightful it would be to carry out these ambitious plans, and
+gratify every wish of this woman's heart! I have but to utter one word,
+and not only would she have this island and these meadows, but she would
+possess all this beautiful forest. Oh! how sweet would it be to feel
+that you are a small Providence on earth, able to penetrate and
+instantly gratify the secret wishes of people you like! Valentine, I
+begin to distrust myself; a temptation like this is too dangerous for a
+nature like mine; I feel like saying to this noble, impoverished lady:
+here, take these meadows, woods and islands that you so tenderly sigh
+for&mdash;I could also say to this despairing young poet: here, take this
+woman that you so madly love, marry her and be happy ... without
+remembering that this woman is myself; without stopping to ask if this
+happiness I promise him will add to my own.</p>
+
+<p>Generosity is to me dangerously attractive! How I would love to make the
+fortune of a noble poet! I am jealous of these foreigners who have
+lately given us such lessons in generosity. I would be so happy in
+bestowing a brilliant future upon one who chose and loved me in my
+obscurity, but to do this love is necessary, and my heart is
+broken&mdash;dead! I have no love to give.</p>
+
+<p>Then again, M. de Meilhan has so much originality of character, and I
+admit only originality of mind. He puts his horse in his chamber, which
+is an original idea, to be sure; but I think horses had better be kept
+in the stable, where they would certainly be more comfortable. And these
+dreadful poets are such positive beings! Poets are not poetical, my dear
+... Edgar has become romantic since he has been in love with me, but I
+think it is an hypocrisy, and I mistrust his love.</p>
+
+<p>Edgar is undeniably a talented, superior man, and captivating, as the
+beautiful Marquise de R. has proved; but I fail to recognise in his love
+the ideal I dreamed of. It is not the expression of an eye that he
+admires, it is the fine shape of the lids, limpid pupils; it is not the
+ingenuous grace of a smile that pleases him, it is the regularity of the
+lines, the crimson of the lips; to him beauty of soul adds no charm to a
+lovely face. Therefore, this love that a word of mine can render
+legitimate, frightens me as if it were a guilty passion; it makes me
+uneasy and timid. I know you will ridicule me when I say that upon me
+this passionate poet has the same effect as women abounding in
+imagination and originality of mind have upon men, who admire but never
+marry them. He has none of that affectionate gravity so necessary in a
+husband. On every subject our ideas differ; this different way of seeing
+things would cause endless disputes between us, or what is sadder yet,
+mutual sacrifices. Everybody adores the charming Edgar, I say Edgar, for
+it is by this name I daily hear him praised. I wish I could love him
+too! He was astonished to find me at his mother's house yesterday. Since
+my first visit to Richeport, Mad. de Meilhan would not allow a single
+day to pass without my seeing her; each day she contrived a new pretext
+to attract me; a piece of tapestry work to be designed, a view of the
+Abbey to be painted, a new book to read aloud or some music to try; the
+other evening it was raining torrents when I was about leaving and she
+insisted upon my staying all night; now she wishes me to remain for her
+birthday, which is on the 5th; she continues to watch me closely. Mad.
+Taverneau has been questioned&mdash;the mute, Blanchard, has been tortured
+... Mad. Taverneau replied that she had known me for three years and
+that during this time I had never ceased to mourn for the late Albert
+Gu&eacute;rin; in her zeal she added that he was a very deserving young man! My
+good Blanchard contented herself with saying that I was worth more than
+Mad. de Meilhan and all of her family put together. While they study me
+I study them. There is no danger in my remaining at Richeport. Edgar
+respects his mother&mdash;she watches over me. If necessary, I will tell her
+everything.... She speaks kindly of Mlle. de Chateaudun&mdash;she defends
+me.... How I laughed to myself this morning! I heard that M. de Monbert
+had secretly applied to the police to discover my whereabouts and the
+police sent him to join me at Burgundy!... What could have made any one
+think I was there? At whose house will he go to seek me? and whom will
+he find instead of me? However, I may be there before long if my cousin
+will travel by way of Macon. She will not be ready to start before next
+week.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! I am so anxious to see you again! Do not go to Geneva without me.</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XVIII'></a><h2>XVIII.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN,<br />
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, July 2d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Do you believe, my dear Edgar, that it is easy to live when the age of
+love is passed? Verily one must be able to love his whole lifetime if he
+wishes to live an enchanted life, and die a painless death. What a
+seductive game! what unexpected luck! How many moments delightfully
+employed! Each day has its particular history; at night we delight in
+telling it over to ourselves, and indulge in the wildest conjectures as
+to what will be the events of each to-morrow. The reality of to-day
+defeats the anticipations of yesterday. We hope one moment and despair
+the next&mdash;now dejected, now elated. We alternate between death and
+blissful life.</p>
+
+<p>The other morning at nine o'clock we stopped at the stage-office at Sens
+for ten minutes. I went into the hotel and questioned everybody, and
+found they had seen many young ladies of the age, figure and beauty of
+Mlle. de Chateaudun.</p>
+
+<p>Happy people they must be!</p>
+
+<p>However, I only asked all these questions to amuse myself during the ten
+minutes' relay. My mind was at rest&mdash;for the police are infallible;
+everything will be explained at the Ch&acirc;teau de Lorgeville. I stopped my
+carriage some yards from the gate, got out and walked up the long
+avenue, being concealed by the large trees through which I caught
+glimpses of the ch&acirc;teau.</p>
+
+<p>It was a large symmetrical building&mdash;a stone quadrangle, heavily topped
+off by a dark slate roof, and a dejected-looking weathercock that
+rebelled against the wind and declined to move.</p>
+
+<p>All the windows in the front of the house were tear-stained at the base
+by the winter rains.</p>
+
+<p>A modern entrance, with double flights of steps decorated by four vases
+containing four dead aloe-stems buried in straw, betrayed the cultivated
+taste of the handsome L&eacute;on.</p>
+
+<p>I expected to see the shadow of a living being.... No human outline
+broke the tranquil shade of the trees.</p>
+
+<p>An accursed dog, man's worst enemy, barked furiously, and made violent
+efforts to break his rope and fly at me.... I hope he is tied with a
+gordian knot if he wishes to see the setting sun!</p>
+
+<p>Finally a gardener enjoying a sinecure came to enliven this landscape
+without a garden; he strolled down the avenue with the nonchalance of a
+workman paid by the handsome L&eacute;on.</p>
+
+<p>I am able to distinguish among the gravest faces those that can relax
+into a smile at the sight of gold. The gardener passed before me, and
+after he had bestowed upon me the expected smile, I said to him:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is this Mad. de Lorgeville's ch&acirc;teau?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made an affirmative sign. Once more I bowed to the genius of the
+Jerusalem street goddess.</p>
+
+<p>I said to the gardener in a solemn tone: &quot;Here is a letter of the
+greatest importance; you must hand it to Mlle. de Chateaudun when she is
+alone.&quot; I then showed him my purse and said: &quot;After that, this money is
+yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The sweet young lady!&quot; said the gardener, walking off towards the
+ch&acirc;teau with the gold in one hand, the letter in the other, and the
+purse in his eye&mdash;&quot;The good young lady! it is a long time since she has
+received a love-letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I said to myself, The handsome L&eacute;on does not indulge in
+letter-writing&mdash;he has a good reason for that.</p>
+
+<p>The following is the letter carried by the gardener to the ch&acirc;teau:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mademoiselle,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Desperate situations justify desperate measures. I am willing to
+believe that I am still, by your desire, undergoing a terrible ordeal,
+but I judge myself sufficiently tried.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am ready for everything except the misery of losing you. My last sane
+idea is uttered in this warning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must see you; I must speak to you.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not refuse me a few moments' conversation&mdash;Mademoiselle, in the name
+of Heaven save me! save yourself!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is in the neighborhood of the ch&acirc;teau some farmhouse, or shady
+grove. Name any spot where I can meet you in an hour. I am awaiting your
+answer.... After an hour has passed I will wait for nothing more in this
+world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The gardener walked along with the nonchalance of the man of the
+Georgics, as if meditating upon the sum of happiness contained in a
+piece of gold. I looked after him with that resignation we feel as the
+end of a great trial approaches.</p>
+
+<p>He was soon lost to view, and in the distance I heard a door open and
+shut.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Mlle. Chateaudun would be reading my letter. I read it
+over in my own mind, and rapidly conjectured the impression each word
+would make upon her heart.</p>
+
+<p>Through the thick foliage where I was concealed, I had a confused view
+of one wing of the ch&acirc;teau; the wall appeared to be covered with green
+tapestry torn in a thousand places. I could distinguish nothing clearly
+at a distance of twenty yards. Finally I saw approaching a graceful
+figure clad in white&mdash;and through the trees I caught sight of a blue
+scarf&mdash;a muslin dress and blue scarf&mdash;nothing more, and yet my heart
+stood still! My sensations at this moment are beyond analyzation. I felt
+an emotion that a man in love will comprehend at once.... A muslin dress
+fluttering under the trees where the fountains ripple and the birds
+sing! Is there a more thrilling sight?</p>
+
+<p>I stood with one foot forward on the gravel-path, and with folded arms
+and bowed head I waited. I saw the scarf fringe before seeing the face.
+I looked up, and there stood before me a lovely woman ... but it was not
+Irene!...</p>
+
+<p>It was Mad. de Lorgeville. She knew me and I recognised her, having
+known her before her marriage. She still possessed the beauty of her
+girlhood, and marriage had perfected her loveliness by adorning her with
+that fascinating grace that is wanting even in Raphael's madonnas.</p>
+
+<p>A peal of merry laughter rooted me to the spot and changed the current
+of my ideas. The lady was seized with such a fit of gayety that she
+could scarcely speak, but managed to gasp out my name and title in
+broken syllables. Like a great many men, I can stand much from women
+that I am not in love with.... I stood with arms crossed and hat off,
+waiting for an explanation of this foolish reception. After several
+attempts, Mad. de Lorgeville succeeded in making her little speech.
+After this storm of laughter there was still a ripple through which I
+could distinguish the following words, although I did not understand
+them:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Excuse me, monsieur, ... but if you knew ... when you see ... but she
+must not see my foolish merriment, ... she cherishes the fancy that she
+is still young, ... like all women who are no longer so, ... give me
+your arm, ... we were at table ... we always keep a seat for a chance
+visitor ... One does not often meet with an adventure like this except
+in novels....&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I made an effort to assume that calmness and boldness that saved my life
+the day I was made prisoner on the inhospitable coast of Borneo, and the
+old Arab king accused me of having attempted the traffic of gold dust&mdash;a
+capital crime&mdash;and said to the fair young ch&acirc;telaine:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Madame, there is not much to amuse one in the country; gayety is a
+precious thing; it cannot be bought; happy is he who gives it. I
+congratulate myself upon being able to present it to you. Can you not
+give me back half of it, madame?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, monsieur, come and take it yourself,&quot; said Madame de Lorgeville;
+&quot;but you must use it with discretion before witnesses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can assure you, madame, that I have not come to your ch&acirc;teau in
+search of gayety. Allow me to escort you to the door and then retire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are my prisoner, monsieur, and I shall not grant your request. The
+arrival of the Prince de Monbert is a piece of good fortune. My husband
+and I will not be ungrateful to the good genius that brought you here.
+We shall keep you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One moment, madame,&quot; said I, stopping in front of the ch&acirc;teau; &quot;I
+accept the happiness of being retained by you; but will you be good
+enough to name the persons I am to meet here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are all friends of M. de Monbert.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Friends are the very people I dread, madame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But they are all women.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Women I dread most of all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! monsieur, it is quite evident that you have been among savages for
+ten years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Savages are the only beings I am not afraid of!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Alas! monsieur, I have nothing in that line to offer you. This evening
+I can show you some neighbors who resemble the tribes of the Tortoise of
+the Great Serpent&mdash;these are the only natives I can dispose of. At
+present you will only see my husband, two ladies who are almost widows,
+and a young lady&quot; ... here Mad. de Lorgeville was seized with a new fit
+of laughter ... finally she continued: &quot;A young lady whose name you will
+know later.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it already, madame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you do ... to-morrow our company will be increased by two
+persons, my brother.&quot; ...</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The handsome L&eacute;on!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah you know him!... My brother L&eacute;on and his wife.&quot; ...</p>
+
+<p>I started so violently that I dropped Mad. de Lorgeville's arm&mdash;she
+looked frightened, and I said in a painfully constrained voice:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And his wife.... Mad. de Var&egrave;zes?... Ah! I did not know that M. de
+Var&egrave;zes was married.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My brother was married a month ago,&quot; said Mad. Lorgeville. &quot;He married
+Mlle. de Bligny.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you certain of that, madame?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This question was asked in a voice and accompanied by an expression of
+countenance that would have made a painter or musician desperate, even
+were they Rossini or Delacroix.</p>
+
+<p>Mad. de Lorgeville, alarmed a second time by my excited manner, looked
+at me with commiseration, as if she thought me crazy! Certainly neither
+my face nor manner indicated sanity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ask if I am sure my brother is married!&quot; said Mad. de Lorgeville
+with petrified astonishment. &quot;You are surely jesting?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, madame, yes,&quot; said I, with an exuberance of gayety, &quot;it is a
+joke.... I understand it all ... I comprehend everything ... that is to
+say&mdash;I understand nothing ... but your brother, the excellent L&eacute;on de
+Var&egrave;zes, is married&mdash;that is all I wanted to know.... What a very
+handsome young man he is!... I suppose, madame, that you opened my note
+without reading the address ... or did Mlle. de Chateaudun send you here
+to meet me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mlle. de Chateaudun is not here ... excuse this silly laughter ... the
+gardener gave your note to one of my guests ... a young lady of
+sixty-five summers.... Who by the strangest coincidence is named Mlle.
+de Chantverdun.... Now you can account for my amusement ... Mlle. de
+Chantverdun is a canoness. She read your letter, and wished for once in
+her life to enjoy uttering a shriek of alarm and faint at the sight of a
+love letter; so come monsieur,&quot; said Mad. de Lorgeville, smilingly
+leading me towards the house, &quot;come and make your excuses to Mlle. de
+Chantverdun, who has recovered her senses and sent me to her
+rendezvous.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Involuntarily, my dear Edgar, I indulged in this short monologue after
+the manner of the old romancers: O tender love! passion full of
+intoxication and torment! love that kills and resuscitates! What a
+terrible vacuum thou must leave in life, when age exiles thee from our
+heart! Which means that I was resuscitated by Mad. de Lorgeville's last
+words!</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes I was bowing with a moderate degree of respect before
+Mlle. de Chantverdun, and making her such adroit excuses that she was
+enchanted with me. Happiness had restored my presence of mind&mdash;my
+deferential manner and apologies delighted the poor old-young lady. I
+made her believe that this mistake was entirely owing to a similarity of
+names, and that the age of Mile. de Chantverdun was an additional point
+of resemblance.</p>
+
+<p>This distinction was difficult to manage in its exquisite delicacy; my
+skilfulness won the approbation of Mad. de Lorgeville.</p>
+
+<p>We passed a charming afternoon. I had recovered my gayety that trouble
+had almost destroyed, and enjoyed myself so much that sunset found me
+still at the ch&acirc;teau. Dear Edgar, this time I am not mistaken in my
+conjectures. Mile, de Chateaudun is imposing a trying ordeal upon me&mdash;I
+am more convinced of it than ever; it is the expiation before entering
+Paradise. Hasten your love affairs and prepare for marriage&mdash;we will
+have a double wedding, and we can introduce our wives on the same day.
+This would be the crowning of my dearest hopes&mdash;a fitting seal to our
+life-long friendship!</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XIX'></a><h2>XIX.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, July 6th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>It is he! Valentine, it is he! I at once recognised him, and he
+recognised me! And our future lives were given to each other in one of
+those looks that decide a life. What a day! how agitated I still am! My
+hand trembles, my heart beats so violently that I can scarcely write....
+It is one o'clock; I did not close my eyes last night and I cannot sleep
+to-night. I am so excited, my mind so foolishly disturbed, that sleep is
+a state I no longer comprehend; I feel as if I could never sleep again.
+Many hours will have to pass before I can extinguish this fire that
+burns my eyes, stop this whirl of thoughts rushing through my brain; to
+sleep, I must forget, and never, never can I forget his name, his voice,
+his face! My dear Valentine, how I wished for you to-day! How proud I
+would have been to prove to you the realization of all my dreams and
+presentiments!</p>
+
+<p>Ah! I knew I was right; such implicit faith could not be an error; I was
+convinced that there existed on earth a being created for me, who would
+some day possess and govern my heart! A being who had always possessed
+my love, who sought me, and called upon me to respond to his love; and
+that we would end by meeting and loving in spite of all obstacles. Yes,
+often I felt myself called by some superior power. My soul would leave
+me and travel far away in response to some mysterious command. Where did
+it go? Then I was ignorant, now I know&mdash;it went to Italy, in answer to
+the gentle voice, to the behest of Raymond! I was laughed at for what
+was called my romantic idea, and I tried to ridicule it myself. I fought
+against this fantasy. Alas! I fought so valiantly against it that it was
+almost destroyed. Oh! I shudder when I think of it.... A few moments
+more ... and I would have been irrevocably engaged; I would no longer
+have been worthy of this love for which I had kept myself
+irreproachable, in spite of all the temptations of misery, all the
+dangers of isolation, and the long-hoped-for day of blissful meeting,
+would have been the day of eternal farewell! This averted misfortune
+frightened me as if it were still menacing. Poor Roger! I heartily
+pardon him now; more than that, I thank him for having so quickly
+disenchanted me.</p>
+
+<p>Edgar!... Edgar!... I hate him when I remember that I tried to love him;
+but no, no, there never was anything like love between us! Heavens! what
+a difference!... And yet the one of whom I speak with such enthusiasm
+... I saw yesterday for the first time ... I know him not ... I know him
+not ... and yet I love him!... Valentine, what will you think of me?</p>
+
+<p>This most important day of my life opened in the ordinary way; nothing
+foreshadowed the great event that was to decide my fate, that was to
+throw so much light upon the dark doubts of my poor heart. This
+brilliant sun suddenly burst upon me unheralded by any precursory ray.</p>
+
+<p>Some new guests were expected; a relative of Madame de Meilhan, and a
+friend of Edgar, whom they call Don Quixote. This struck me as being a
+peculiar nickname, but I did not ask its origin. Like all persons of
+imagination, I have no curiosity; I at once find a reason for
+everything; I prefer imagining to asking the wherefore of things; I
+prefer suppositions to information. Therefore I did not inquire why this
+friend was honored with the name of Don Quixote. I explained it to
+myself in this wise: A tall, thin young man, resembling the Chevalier de
+la Mancha, and who perhaps had dressed himself like Don Quixote at the
+carnival, and the name of his disguise had clung to him ever since; I
+fancied a silly, awkward youth, with an ugly yellow face, a sort of
+solemn jumping-jack, and I confess to no desire to make his
+acquaintance. He disturbed me in one respect, but I was quickly
+reassured. I am always afraid of being recognised by visitors at the
+ch&acirc;teau, and have to exercise a great deal of ingenuity to find out if
+we have ever met. Before appearing before them, I inquire if they are
+fashionable people, spent last winter in Paris, &amp;c.? I am told Don
+Quixote is almost a savage; he travels all the time so as to sustain his
+character as knight-errant, and that he spent last winter in Rome....
+This quieted my fears ... I did not appear in society until last winter,
+so Don Quixote never saw me; knowing we could meet without the
+possibility of recognition, I dismissed him from my mind.</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday, at three o'clock, Madame de Meilhan and her son went to the
+depot to meet their guests. I was standing at the front door when they
+drove off, and Madame de Meilhan called out to me: &quot;My dear Madame
+Gu&eacute;rin, I recommend my bouquets to you; pray spare me the eternal
+<i>soucis</i> with which the cruel Etienne insists upon filling my rooms; now
+I rely upon you for relief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I smiled at this pun as if I had never heard it before, and promised to
+superintend the arrangement of the flowers. I went into the garden and
+found Etienne gathering <i>soucis</i>, more <i>soucis</i>, nothing but <i>soucis</i>. I
+glanced at his flower-beds, and at once understood the cause of his
+predilection for this dreadful flower; it was the only kind that deigned
+to bloom in his melancholy garden: This is the secret of many
+inexplicable preferences.</p>
+
+<p>I thought with horror that Madame de Meilhan would continue to be a prey
+to <i>soucis</i> if I did not come to her rescue, so I said: &quot;Etienne, what a
+pity to cull them all! they are so effective in a garden; let us go look
+for some other flowers&mdash;it is a shame to ruin your beautiful beds!&quot; The
+flattered Stephen eagerly followed me to a corner of the garden where I
+had admired some superb catalpas. He gathered branches of them, with
+which I filled the Japanese vases on the mantel, and ornamented the
+corners of the parlor, thus converting it into a flowery grove. I also
+arranged some Bengal roses and dahlias that had escaped Etienne's
+culture, and with the addition of some asters and a very few <i>soucis</i> I
+must confess, I was charmed with the result of my labors. But I wanted
+some delicate flowers for the pretty vase on the centre table, and
+remembering that an old florist, a friend of Madame Taverneau and one
+of my professed admirers, lived about a mile from the ch&acirc;teau, I
+determined to walk over and describe to him the dreadful condition of
+Madame de Meilhan, and appeal to him for assistance. Fortunately I found
+him in his green-house, and delighted him by repeating the pun about
+filling the house with <i>soucis</i>. Provincials have a singular taste for
+puns; I never make them, and only repeat them because I love to please.
+The old man was fascinated, and rewarded my flattery by making me up a
+magnificent bouquet of rare, unknown, nameless, exquisite flowers that
+could be found nowhere else; my bouquet was worth a fortune, and what
+fortune ever exhaled such perfume? I started off triumphant. I tell you
+all this to show how calm and little inclined I was to romance on that
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>I walked rapidly, for we can hardly help running when in an open field
+and pursued by the arrows of the sun; we run till we are breathless, to
+find shelter beneath some friendly tree.</p>
+
+<p>I had crossed a large field that separates the property of the florist
+from Madame de Meilhan's, and entered the park by a little gate; a few
+steps off a fountain rippled among the rocks&mdash;a basin surrounded by
+shells received its waters. This basin had originally been pretentiously
+ornamented, but time and vegetation had greatly improved these efforts
+of bad taste. The roots of a grand weeping willow had pitilessly
+unmasked the imposture of these artificial rocks, that is, they have
+destroyed their skilful masonry; these rocks, built at great expense on
+the shore, have gradually fallen into the very middle of the water,
+where they have become naturalized; some serve as vases to clusters of
+beautiful iris, others serve as resting-places for the tame deer that
+run about the park and drink at the stream; aquatic plants, reeds and
+entwined convolvulus have invaded the rest; all the pretentious work of
+the artist is now concealed; which proves the vanity of the proud
+efforts of man. God permits his creatures to cultivate ugliness in their
+cities only; in his own beautiful fields he quickly destroys their
+miserable attempts. Vainly, under pretext of a fountain, do they heap up
+in the woods and valleys masonry upon masonry, rocks upon rocks; vainly
+do they lavish money upon their gingerbread work about the limpid
+brooks; the water-nymph smilingly watches their labor, and then in her
+capricious play amuses herself by changing their hideous productions
+into charming structures; their den of a farmer-general into a poet's
+nest; and to effect this miracle only three things are necessary&mdash;three
+things that cost nothing, and which we daily trample under
+foot&mdash;flowers, grass and pebbles.... Valentine, I know I have been
+talking too long about this little lake, but I have an excuse: I love it
+much! You shall soon know why....</p>
+
+<p>I heard the purling of the water, and could not resist the seductive
+freshness of its voice; I leaned over the rocks of the fountain, took
+off my glove and caught in the hollow of my hand the sparkling water
+that fell from the cascade, and eagerly drank it. As I was intoxicating
+myself with this innocent beverage, I heard a footstep on the path; I
+continued to drink without disturbing myself, until the following words
+made me raise my head:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Excuse me, <i>mademoiselle</i>, but can you direct me where to find Mad. de
+Meilhan?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He called me <i>Mademoiselle</i>, so I must be recognised; the idea made me
+turn pale; I looked with alarm at the young man who uttered these words,
+I had never seen him before, but he might have seen me and would betray
+me. I was so disconcerted that I dropped half of my flowers in the
+water; the current was rapidly whirling them off among the crevices of
+the rocks, when he jumped lightly from stone to stone, and rescuing the
+fugitive flowers, laid them all carefully by the others on the side of
+the fountain, bowed respectfully and retraced his steps down the walk
+without renewing his unanswered question. I was, without knowing why,
+completely reassured; there was in his look such high-toned loyalty, in
+his manner such perfect distinction, and a sort of precaution so
+delicately mysterious, that I felt confidence in him. I thought, even if
+he does know my name it will make no difference&mdash;for he would never
+mention having met me&mdash;my secret is safe with a man of his character!
+You need not laugh at me for prematurely deciding upon his
+character,... for my surmises proved correct!</p>
+
+<p>The dinner hour was drawing near, and I hurried back to the ch&acirc;teau to
+dress. I was compelled, in spite of myself, to look attractive, on
+account of having to put on a lovely dress that the treacherous
+Blanchard had spread out on the bed with the determination that I should
+wear it; protesting that it was a blessed thing she had brought this
+one, as there was not another one fit for me to appear in before Mad. de
+Meilhan's guests. It was an India muslin trimmed with twelve little
+flounces edged with exquisite Valenciennes lace; the waist was made of
+alternate tucks and insertion, and trimmed with lace to match the skirt.
+This dress was unsuitable to the humble Madame Gu&eacute;rin&mdash;it would be
+imprudent to appear in it. How indignant and angry I was with poor
+Blanchard! I scolded her all the time she was assisting me to put it on!
+Oh! since then how sincerely have I forgiven her! She had brought me a
+fashionable sash to wear with the dress, but I resisted the temptation,
+and casting aside the elegant ribbon, I put on an old lilac belt and
+descended to the parlor where the company were assembled.</p>
+
+<p>The first person I saw, on entering the room, was the young man I had
+met by the fountain. His presence disconcerted me. Mad. de Meilhan
+relieved my embarrassment by saying: &quot;Ah! here you are! we were just
+speaking of you. I wish to introduce to you my dear Don Quixote,&quot; I
+turned my head towards the other end of the room where Edgar was talking
+to several persons, thinking that Don Quixote was one of the number; but
+Mad. de Meilhan introduced the young man of the fountain, calling him M.
+de Villiers: he was Don Quixote.</p>
+
+<p>He addressed some polite speech to me, but this time he called me
+madame, and in uttering this word there was a tone of sadness that
+deeply touched me, and the earnest look with which he regarded me I can
+never forget&mdash;it seemed to say, I know your history, I know you are
+unhappy, I know this unhappiness is unjustly inflicted upon you, and you
+arouse my tenderest sympathy. I assure you, my dear Valentine, that his
+look expressed all this, and much more that I refrain from telling you,
+because I know you will laugh at me.</p>
+
+<p>Madame de Meilhan having joined us, he went over to Edgar.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you think of her?&quot; asked Edgar, who did not know that I was
+listening.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very beautiful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is a companion, engaged by my mother to stay here until I marry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The hidden meaning of this jesting speech seemed to disgust M. de
+Villiers; he cast upon his friend a severe and scornful look that
+clearly said: You conceited puppy! I think, but am not certain, this
+look also signified: Would-be Lovelace! Provincial Don Juan, &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>At dinner I was placed opposite him, and all during the meal I was
+wondering why this handsome, elegant, distinguished-looking young man
+should be nicknamed Don Quixote. Thoughtful observation solved the
+enigma. Don Quixote was ridiculed for two things: being very ugly and
+being too generous. And I confess I felt myself immediately fascinated
+by his captivating characteristics.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner we were on the terrace, when he approached me and said with
+a smile:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am distressed, madame, to think that without knowing you, I must have
+made a disagreeable impression.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I confess that you startled me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How pale you turned!... perhaps you were expecting some one!&quot; ... He
+asked this question with a troubled look and such charming anxiety that
+I answered quickly&mdash;too quickly, perhaps:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, monsieur, I did not expect any one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You saw me coming up the walk?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I saw you coming.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But was there any reason why I should have caused you this sudden
+fright!... some resemblance, perhaps?&mdash;no?&mdash;It is strange ... I am
+puzzled.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I am also very much puzzled, monsieur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;About me!... What happiness!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish to know why you are called Don Quixote?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! you embarrass me by asking for my great secret, Madame, but I will
+confide it to you, since you are kind enough to be interested in me. I
+am called Don Quixote because I am a kind of a fool, an original, an
+enthusiastic admirer of all noble and holy things, a dreamer of noble
+deeds, a defender of the oppressed, a slayer of egotists; because I
+believe in all religions, even the religion of love. I think that a man
+ought to respect himself out of respect to the woman who loves him; that
+he should constantly think of her with devotion, avoid doing anything
+that could displease her, and be always, even in her absence, courteous,
+pleasing, amiable, I would even say <i>loveable</i>, if the word were
+admissible; a man who is beloved is, according to my ridiculous ideas, a
+sort of dignitary; he should thenceforth behave as if he were an idol,
+and deify himself as much as possible. I also have my patriotic
+religion; I love my country like an old member of the National Guard....
+My friends say I am a real Vaudeville Frenchman. I reply that it is
+better to be a real Vaudeville Frenchman than an imitation of English
+jockeys, as they are; they call me knight-errant because I reprove them
+for speaking coarsely of women. I advise them to keep silent and conceal
+their misdeeds. I tell them that their boasted preferences only prove
+their blindness and bad taste; that I am more fortunate than they; all
+the women of my acquaintance are good and perfect, and my greatest
+desire in life is to be worthy of their friendship. I am called Don
+Quixote because I love glory and all those who have the ambition to seek
+it; because in my eyes there is nothing true but the hopeful future, as
+we are deceived at every step we take in the present. Because I
+understand inexplicable disinterestedness, generous folly; because I can
+understand how one can live for an idea and die for a word; I can
+sympathize with all who struggle and suffer for a cherished belief;
+because I have the courage to turn my back upon those whom I despise and
+am eccentric enough to always speak the truth; I assert that nobody is
+worth the hypocrisy of a falsehood; because I am an incorrigible,
+systematic, insatiable dupe; I prefer going astray, making a mistake by
+doing a good deed, rather than being always distrustful and suspicious;
+while I see evil I believe in good; doubtless the evil predominates and
+daily increases, but then it is cultivated, and if the same cultivation
+were bestowed upon the good perfection would be attained. Finally,
+madame, and this is my supreme folly, I believe in happiness and seek it
+with credulous hope; I believe that the purest joys are those which are
+most dearly bought; but I am ready for any sacrifice, and would
+willingly give my life for an hour of this sublime joy that I have so
+long dreamed of and still hope to possess.... Now you know why I am
+called Don Quixote. To be a knight-errant in the present day is rather
+difficult; a certain amount of courage is necessary to dare to say to
+unbelievers: I believe; to egotists, I love; to materialists, I dream;
+it requires more than courage, it requires audacity and insolence. Yes,
+one must commence by appearing aggressive in order to have the right to
+appear generous. If I were merely loyal and charitable, my opinions
+would not be supported; instead of being called <i>Don Quixote</i>, I would
+be called <i>Grandison</i> ... and I would be a ruined man! Thus I hasten to
+polish my armor and attack the insolent with insolence, the scoffers
+with scoffing; I defend my enthusiasm with irony; like the eagle, I let
+my claws grow in order to defend my wings.&quot; ... Here he stopped....
+&quot;Heavens!&quot; he exclaimed, &quot;how could I compare myself to an eagle; I beg
+your pardon, madame, for this presumptuous comparison.... You see to
+what flights your indulgence leads me&quot; ... and he laughed at his own
+enthusiasm, ... but I did not laugh, my feelings were too deeply
+stirred.</p>
+
+<p>Valentine, what I repeat to you is very different from his way of saying
+it. What eloquence in his noble words, his tones of voice, his sparkling
+eyes! His generous sentiments, so long restrained, were poured forth
+with fire; he was happy at finding himself at last understood, at being
+able for once in his life to see appreciated the divine treasures of
+his heart, to be able to impart all his pet ideas without seeing them
+jeered at and their name insulted! Sympathy inspired him with confidence
+in me. With delight I recognised myself in his own description. I saw
+with pride, in his profound convictions, his strong and holy truths, the
+poetical beliefs of my youth, that have always been treated by every one
+else as fictions, and foolish illusions; he carried me back to the happy
+days of my early life, by repeating to me, like an echo of the past,
+those noble words that are no longer heard in the present&mdash;those noble
+precepts&mdash;those beautiful refrains of chivalry in which my infancy was
+cradled.... As I listened I said to myself: how my mother would have
+loved him! and this thought made my eyes fill with tears. Ah! never,
+never did such an idea cross my mind when I was with Edgar, or near
+Roger.... Now you must acknowledge, my dear Valentine, that I am right
+when I say that: It is he! It is he!</p>
+
+<p>We had been absorbed an hour in these confidential reveries, forgetting
+the persons around us, the place we were in, who we were ourselves, and
+the whole world!</p>
+
+<p>The universe had disappeared, leaving us only the delicate perfume of
+the orange blossoms around us, and the soft light of the stars peeping
+forth from the sky above us.</p>
+
+<p>We returned to the parlor and I was seated near the centre-table, when
+Edgar came up to me and said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter with you this evening? You seem depressed; are you
+not well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have a slight cold.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What a tiresome general&mdash;he continued&mdash;he monopolizes all my evening,
+... a tiresome hero is <i>so</i> hard to entertain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I forgot to tell you we had a general to dinner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Raymond, come here ... it is your turn to keep the warrior awake.&quot; ...
+M. de Villiers approached the table and began to examine the bouquet I
+had brought. &quot;Ah! I recognise these flowers!&quot; he looked at me and I
+blushed. &quot;I do too,&quot; said Edgar, without taking in the true sense of the
+words, and he pointed to the prettiest flowers in the bouquet, and
+said: &quot;these are the flowers of the <i>pelargonium diadematum coccineum</i>.&quot;
+I exclaimed at the dreadful name. M. de Villiers repeated: &quot;<i>Pelargonium
+diadematum coccineum</i>!&quot; in an undertone, with a most fascinating smile,
+and said: &quot;Oh! I did not mean that!&quot; ... I could not help looking at him
+and smiling in complicity; now why should Edgar be so learned?</p>
+
+<p>I suppose you think it very childish to write you these particulars, but
+the most trifling details of this day are precious to me, and I must
+confide them to some one. Towards midnight we separated, and I rejoiced
+at being alone with my happiness. The emotion I felt was so lively that
+I hastened to carry it far away from everybody, even from him, its
+author. I wished for solitude that I might ask myself what had caused
+this agitation&mdash;nothing of importance had occurred this day, no word of
+engagement for the future had been made, and yet my whole life wore a
+different aspect ... my usually calm heart was throbbing violently&mdash;my
+mind always so uneasy was settled; who had thus changed my fate?... A
+stranger ... and what had he done to merit this sudden preference? He
+had picked up some flowers ... But this stranger wore on his brow the
+aureola of the dreamed-of ideal, his musical voice had the imperative
+accent of a master, and from the first moment he looked at me, there
+existed between us that mysterious affinity of fraternal instincts, that
+spontaneous alliance of two hearts suddenly mated, unfailing gratitude,
+irresistible sympathy, mutual echo, reciprocal exchange, quick
+appreciation, ardent and sublime harmony, that creates in one
+moment&mdash;the poets are right&mdash;that creates in one moment eternal love!</p>
+
+<p>To restore my tranquillity, I sat down to write to you, but had not the
+courage to put my thoughts on paper, and I remained there all night,
+trembling and meditative, oppressed by this powerful emotion; I did not
+think, I did not pray, I did not live; I loved, and absorbed in loving,
+taking no note of time, I sat there till daybreak; at five o'clock I
+heard a noise of rakes and scythes in the garden, and wishing to cool
+my hot eyes with a breath of fresh air, I descended to the terrace.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody was asleep in the ch&acirc;teau and all the blinds closed, but I
+opened the glass door leading into the garden, and after walking up and
+down the gravel-path, crossed the bridge over the brook, and went by way
+of the little thicket where I had rested yesterday; I was led by some
+magnetic attraction to the covered spring; I did not go up the
+poplar-walk, but took a little by-path seldom used by any one, and
+almost covered with grass; I reached the spring, and suddenly ... before
+me ... I saw him ... Valentine!... he was there alone, ... sitting on
+the bench by the fountain, with his beautiful eyes fastened on the spot
+where he had seen me the day before! And oh, the sad wistfulness of his
+look went straight to my heart! I stood still, happy, yet frightened; I
+wished to flee; I felt that my presence was a confession, a proof of his
+empire; I was right when I said he called me and I obeyed the call!...
+He looked up and saw me, ... and oh, how pale he turned,... he seemed
+more alarmed than I had been the day previous! His agitation restored my
+calmness; it convinced me that during these hours of separation our
+thoughts had been the same, and that our love was mutual. He arose and
+approached me, saying:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is your favorite place, madame, and I will not intrude any longer,
+but before I go you can reward this great sacrifice by a single word:
+confess frankly that you are not astonished at finding me here?&quot; I was
+silent, but my blushes answered for me. As he stood there looking at me
+I heard a noise near us; it was only a deer coming to drink at the
+spring; but I trembled so violently that M. de Villiers saw by my alarm
+that it would distress me to be found alone with him; he was moving
+away, when I made a sign for him to remain, which meant: Stay, and
+continue to think of me.... I then quickly returned to the ch&acirc;teau. I
+have seen him since; we passed the day together, with Madame de Meilhan
+and her son, playing on the piano, or entertaining the country
+neighbors, but under it all enjoying the same fascinating
+preoccupation, an under-current of bliss, a secret intoxication. Edgar
+is uneasy and Madame de Meilhan is contented; the serious love of her
+son alarmed her; she sees with pleasure an increasing rivalry that may
+destroy it. I know not what is about to happen, but I dread anything
+unpleasant occurring to interrupt my sweet contentment; any
+explanations, humiliations, adieux, departures&mdash;a thousand
+annoyances,... but it matters not, I am happy, I am in love, and I know
+there is nothing so satisfying, so sweet as being in love!</p>
+
+<p>This time I say nothing of yourself, my dear Valentine, of yourself, nor
+of our old friendship, but is not each word of this letter a proof of
+tender devotion? I confide to you every thought and emotion of my
+heart&mdash;so foolish that one would dare not confess them to a mother. Is
+not this the same as saying to you: You are the beloved sister of my
+choice?</p>
+
+<p>Give my dear little goddaughter Irene a kiss for me. Oh, I am so glad
+she is growing prettier every day!</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XX'></a><h2>XX.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN<br />
+Richeport, Pont de l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+Paris, July 8th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Dear Edgar,&mdash;Stupidity was invented by our sex. When a woman deceives or
+deserts us,&mdash;synonymous transgressions,&mdash;we are foolish enough to
+prolong to infinity our despair, instead of singing with Metastasio&mdash;</p>
+
+&quot;Grazie all' inganni tuoi<br />
+Al fin respir' o Nice!&quot;<br />
+
+<p>Alas! such is man! Women have more pride. If I had deserted Mlle. de
+Chateaudun she certainly would not have searched the highways and byways
+to discover me. I fear there is a great deal of vanity at the bottom of
+our manly passions. Vanity is the eldest son of love. I shall develop
+this theory upon some future occasion. One must be calm when one
+philosophizes. At present I am obliged to continue in my folly, begging
+reason to await my return.</p>
+
+<p>In the intense darkness of despair, one naturally rushes towards the
+horizon where shines some bright object, be it lighthouse, star,
+phosphorus or jack-o'-lantern. Will it prove a safe haven or a dangerous
+rock? Fate,&mdash;Chance,&mdash;to thee we trust!</p>
+
+<p>My faithful agents are ever watchful. I have just received their
+despatches, and they inspire me with the hope that at last the thick
+mist is about to be dispersed. I will spare you all the minute details
+written by faithful servants, who have more sagacity than epistolary
+style, and give you a synopsis:&mdash;Mlle. de Chateaudun left for Rouen a
+month ago. She engaged two seats in the car. She was seen at the
+depot&mdash;her maid was with her. There is no longer any doubt&mdash;Irene is at
+Rouen; I have proofs of it in my hand.</p>
+
+<p>An old family servant, devoted to me, is living at Rouen. I will make
+his house the centre of my observations, and will not compromise the
+result by any negligence or recklessness on part.</p>
+
+<p>The inexorable logic of victorious combinations will be revealed to me
+on the first night of my solitude. I am about to start; address me no
+longer at Paris. Railways were invented for the benefit of love affairs.
+A lover laid the first rail, and a speculator laid the last. Happily
+Rouen is a faubourg of Paris! This advantage of rapid locomotion will
+permit me to pass two hours at Richeport with you, and have the delight
+of pressing Raymond's hand. Two hours of my life gained by losing them
+with my oldest and best friend. I will be overjoyed to once more see the
+noble Raymond, the last of knight-errants, doubtless occupied in
+painting in stone-color some old manor where Queen Blanche has left
+traditions of the course of true love.</p>
+
+<p>How dreadful it is, dear Edgar, to endeavor to unravel a mystery when a
+woman is at the bottom of it! Yes, Irene is at Rouen, I am convinced of
+that fact. Rouen is a large city, full of large houses, small houses,
+hotels and churches; but love is a grand inquisitor, capable of
+searching the city in twenty-four hours, and making the receiver of
+stolen property surrender Mlle. de Chateaudun. Then what will happen?
+Have I the right to institute a scheme of this strange nature about a
+young woman? Is she alone at Rouen? And if misfortune does not mislead
+me by these certain traces, is there anything in reserve for me worse
+than losing her?</p>
+
+<p>Oh! if such be the case, then is the time to pray God for strength to
+repeat the other two verses of the poet:&mdash;</p>
+
+&quot;Col mio rival istesso,<br />
+Posso di te parlar!&quot;<br />
+
+<p>Farewell, for a short time, dear Edgar. I fly to fathom this mystery.</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXI'></a><h2>XXI.</h2>
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, July 6th, 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>MADAME: Need I tell you that I left your house profoundly touched by
+your goodness, and bearing away in my heart one of the most precious
+memories that shall survive my youth? What can I tell you that you have
+not already learnt from my distress and emotion at the hour of parting?
+Tears came to my eyes as I pressed M. de Braimes's hand, that loyal hand
+which had so often pressed my father's, and when I turned back to get
+one last look at you, surrounded by your beautiful children, who waved
+me a final adieu, I felt as if I had left behind me the better part of
+myself; for a moment I reproached you for having cured me so quickly. My
+friends have nicknamed me Don Quixote, I do not exactly know why; but
+this I do know, that with the prospect of a reward like unto that which
+you have offered me, any one would accept the office of redresser of
+wrongs and slayer of giants, even at the risk of having to jump into the
+fire occasionally to save a Lady Penock.</p>
+
+<p>More generous than the angels, you have awarded me, on earth, the palm
+which is reserved for martyrs in heaven. You appeared before me like one
+of those benevolent fairies which exorcise evil genii. 'Tis true that
+you do not wear the magic ring, but your wit alleviates suffering and
+proclaims a truce to pain. Till now I have laughed at the stoics who
+declare that suffering is not an evil; seated at my pillow, one smile
+from you converted me to their belief. Hitherto I have believed that
+patience and resignation were virtues beyond my strength and courage;
+without an effort, you have taught me that patience is sweet and
+resignation easy to attain. I have been persuaded that health is the
+greatest boon given to man: you have proved its fallacy. And M. de
+Braimes has shown himself your faithful accomplice, not to speak of your
+dear little ones, who, for a month past, have converted my room into a
+flower-garden and a bird-cage, where they were the sweetest flowers and
+the gayest birds. Finally, as if my life, restored by your tender care,
+was not enough, you have added to it the priceless jewel of your
+friendship. A thousand thanks and blessings! With you happiness entered
+into my destiny. You were the dawn announcing a glorious sunrise, the
+prelude to the melodies which, since yesterday, swell in my bosom. If I
+take pleasure in recognising your gentle influence in the secret delight
+that pervades my being, do not deprive me of the illusion. I believe,
+with my mother, in mysterious influences. I believe that, as there are
+miserable beings who, unwittingly, drag misfortune after them and sow it
+over their pathway, there are others, on the other hand, who, marked by
+the finger of God, bear happiness to all whom they meet. Happy the
+wanderer who, like me, sees one of those privileged beings cross his
+path! Their presence, alone, brings down blessings from heaven and the
+earth blossoms under their footsteps.</p>
+
+<p>And really, madame, you do possess the faculty of dissipating fatal
+enchantments. Like the morning star, which disperses the mighty
+gatherings of goblins and gnomes, you have shone upon my horizon and
+Lady Penock has vanished like a shadow. Thanks to you, I crossed France
+with impunity from the borders of Is&egrave;re to the borders of the Creuse,
+and then to the banks of the Seine, without encountering the implacable
+islander who pursued me from the fields of Latium to the foot of the
+Grande Chartreuse. I must not forget to state that at Voreppe, where I
+stopped to change horses, the keeper of the ruined inn, recognising my
+carriage, politely presented me with a bill for damages; so much for a
+broken glass, so much for a door beaten in, so much for a shattered
+ladder. I commend to M. de Braimes this brilliant stroke of one of his
+constituents; it is an incident forgotten by Cervantes in the history of
+his hero.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of my character of knight-errant, I reached my dear mountains
+without any other adventure. I had not visited them for three years, and
+the sight of their rugged tops rejoiced my heart. You would like the
+country; it is poor, but poetic. You would enjoy its green solitudes,
+its uncultivated fields, its silent valleys and little lakes enshrined
+like sheets of crystal in borders of sage and heather. Its chief charm
+to me is its obscurity; no curiosity-hunter or ordinary tourist has ever
+frightened away the dryads from its chestnut groves or the naiads from
+its fresh streams. Even a flitting poet has scarcely ever betrayed its
+rural mysteries. My ch&acirc;teau has none of the grandeur that you have,
+perhaps, ascribed to it. Picture to yourself a pretty country-house,
+lightly set on a hill-top, and pensively overlooking the Creuse flowing
+at its feet under an arbor of alder-bushes and flowering ash. Such as it
+is, imbedded in woods which shelter it from the northern blasts and
+protect it from the heats of the summer solstice; there&mdash;if the hope
+that inspires me is not an illusion of my bewildered brain; if the light
+that dazzles me is not a chance spark from chimerical fires, there,
+among the scenes where I first saw the light, I would hide my happiness.
+You see, madame, that my hand trembles as I write. One evening you and I
+were walking together, under the trees in your garden; your children
+played about us like young kids upon the green sward. As we walked we
+talked, and insensibly began to speak of that vague need of loving which
+torments our youth. You said that love was a grave undertaking, and that
+often our whole life depended upon our first choice. I spoke of my
+aspirations towards those unknown delights, which haunted me with their
+seductive visions as Columbus was haunted by visions of a new world.
+Gravely and pensively you listened to me, and when I began to trace the
+image of the oft-dreamed-of woman, so vainly sought for in the
+ungrateful domain of reality, I remember that you smiled as you said:
+&quot;Do not despair, she exists; you will meet her some day.&quot; Were you
+speaking earnestly then? Is it she? Keep still, do not even breathe, she
+might fly away.</p>
+
+<p>After a few days spent in revisiting the scenes of my childhood, and
+breathing afresh the sweet perfumes still hovering around infancy's
+cradle, I left for Paris, where I scarcely rested The manner in which I
+employed the few hours passed in that hot city would doubtless surprise
+you, madame. My carriage rolled rapidly through the wealthy portion of
+the city, and following my directions was soon lost in the gloomy
+solitude of the Marais.</p>
+
+<p>I alighted in the wilderness of a deserted street before a melancholy
+and dejected-looking house, and as I raised the heavy latch of the
+massive door, my heart beat as if I were about to meet, after a long
+absence, an aged mother who wept for my return, or a much-loved sister.
+I took a key from its nail in the porter's lodge and began to climb the
+stair, which, viewed from below, looked more picturesque than inviting,
+particularly when one proposed to ascend to the very top. Fortunately, I
+am a mountaineer; I bounded up that wide ladder with as light a step as
+if it had been a marble stairway, with richly wrought balustrade. At the
+end of the ascent I hurriedly opened a door, and, perfectly at home,
+entered a small room. I paused motionless upon the threshold, and
+glanced feelingly around. The room contained nothing but a table covered
+with books and dust, a stiff oak arm-chair, a hard and
+uninviting-looking lounge, and on the mantel-piece, in two earthen
+vases, designed by Ziegler, the only ornaments of this poor retreat, a
+few dry, withered asters. No one expected me, I expected no one. There I
+remained until evening, waiting for nightfall, thinking the sun would
+never set and the day never end. Finally, as the night deepened, I
+leaned on the sill of the only window, and with an emotion I cannot
+describe, watched the stars peep forth one by one. I would have given
+them all for a sight of the one star which will never shine again. Shall
+I tell you about it, madame, and would you comprehend me? You know
+nothing of my life; you do not know that, during two years, I lived in
+that garret, poor, unknown, with no other friend than labor, no other
+companion than the little light which appeared and disappeared regularly
+every evening through the branches of a Canada pine. I did not know
+then, neither do I know now, who watched by that pale gleam, but I felt
+for it a nameless affection, a mysterious tenderness. On leaving my
+retreat, I sent it, through the trees, a long farewell, and the not
+seeing it on my return distressed me as the loss of a brother. What has
+become of you, little shining beacon, who illumined the gloom of my
+studious nights? Did a storm extinguish you? or has God, whom I invoked
+for you, granted my prayer, and do you shine with a less troubled ray in
+happier climes? It is a long story; and I know a fresher and a more
+charming one, which I will speedily tell you.</p>
+
+<p>I took the train the next day (that was yesterday) for Richeport, where
+M. de Meilhan had invited me to meet him. You know M. de Meilhan without
+ever having seen him. You are familiar with his verses and you like
+them. I profess to love the man as much as his talents. Our friendship
+is of long standing; I assisted at the first lispings of his muse; I saw
+his young glory grow and expand; I predicted from the first the place
+that he now holds in the poetic pleiad, the honor of a great nation. To
+hear him you would say that he was a pitiless scoffer; to study him you
+would soon find, under this surface of rancorless irony, more candor and
+simplicity than he is himself aware of, and which few people possess who
+boast of their faith and belief. He has the mind of a sceptic and the
+believing soul of a neophyte.</p>
+
+<p>In less than three hours I reached Pont de l'Arche. Railroads have been
+much abused; it is charitable to presume that those honest people who do
+so have no relatives, friends nor sweethearts away from them. M. de
+Meilhan and his mother were waiting for me at the depot; the first
+delights of meeting over&mdash;for you must remember that I have not seen my
+poet for three years&mdash;I leave you to imagine the peals of laughter that
+greeted the mention of Lady Penock's formidable name. Edgar, who knew of
+my adventure and was excited by the joy of seeing me again, amused
+himself by startling the echoes with loud and repeated &quot;Shockings!&quot; We
+drove along in an open carriage, laughing, talking, pressing each
+other's hands, asking question upon question, while Madame de Meilhan,
+after having shared our gayety, seemed to watch with interest the
+exhibition of our mutual delight. This scene had the most beautiful
+surroundings in the world; an exquisite country, which in order to be
+fully appreciated, visited, described, sung of in prose and verse,
+should be fifteen hundred miles from France.</p>
+
+<p>My mind is naturally gay, my heart sad. When I laugh, something within
+me suffers and repines; it is by no means rare for me to pass suddenly
+and without transition from the wildest gayety to the profoundest
+sadness and melancholy. On our arrival at Richeport we found several
+visitors at the ch&acirc;teaux, among the number a general, solemnly resigned
+to the pleasures of a day in the country. To escape this illustrious
+warrior, who was engaged upon the battle of Friedland, Edgar made off
+between two cavalry charges and carried me into the park, where we were
+soon joined by Madame de Meilhan and her guest, the terrible general at
+the head.</p>
+
+<p>Interrupted for a moment by the skilful retreat of the young poet, the
+battle of Friedland began again with redoubled fury. The paths of the
+park are narrow; the warrior marched in front with Edgar, who wiped the
+drops from his brow and exhausted himself in vain efforts to release his
+arm from an iron grasp; Madame de Meilhan and those who accompanied her
+represented the corps d'arme&eacute;; I formed the rear guard; balls whistled
+by, battalions struggled, we heard the cries of the wounded and were
+stifled by the smell of powder; wishing to avoid the harrowing sight of
+such dreadful carnage, I slackened my pace and was agreeably surprised
+to find, at a turn in the path, that I had deserted my colors; I
+listened and heard only the song of the bulfinch; I took a long breath
+and breathed only the odor of the woods; I looked above the birches and
+aspens for a cloud of smoke which would put me upon the track of the
+combatants; I saw only the blue sky smiling through the trees; I was
+alone; by one of those reactions of which I spoke, I sank insensibly
+into a deep revery.</p>
+
+<p>It was intensely hot; I threw myself upon the grass, under the shadow of
+a thick hedge, and there lay listening to nature's faint whispers, and
+the beating of my own heart. The joy that I had just felt in meeting
+Edgar again, made the void in my heart, which friendship can never fill,
+all the more painful; my senses, subdued by the heat, chanted in endless
+elegies the serious and soothing conversation that we had had one
+evening under your lindens. Whether I had a presentiment of some
+approaching change in my destiny, or whether I was simply overcome by
+the heat, I know not, but I was restless; my restlessness seemed to
+anticipate some indefinite happiness, and from afar the wind bore to me
+in warm puffs the cheering refrain: &quot;She exists, she exists, you will
+find her!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I at last remembered that I had only been Madame de Meilhan's guest a
+few hours, and that my abrupt disappearance must appear, to say the
+least, strange to her. On the other hand, Edgar, whom I had
+treacherously abandoned in the greatest danger, would have serious
+grounds of complaint against me. I arose, and driving away the winged
+dreams that hovered around me, like a swarm of bees round a hive,
+prepared to join my corps, with the cowardly hope that when I arrived,
+the engagement might be over and the victory won. Unfortunately, or
+rather fortunately, I was unacquainted with the windings of the park,
+and wandered at random through its verdant labyrinths, the sun pouring
+down upon my devoted head until I heard the silvery murmur of a
+neighboring stream, babbling over its pebbly bed. Attracted by the
+freshness of the spot, I approached and in the midst of a confusion of
+iris, mint and bindweed, I saw a blonde head quenching its thirst at the
+stream. I could only see a mass of yellow hair wound in heavy golden
+coils around this head, and a little hand catching the water like an
+opal cup, which it afterwards raised to two lips as fresh as the crystal
+stream which they quaffed. Her face and figure being entirely concealed
+by the aquatic plants which grew around the spring, I took her for a
+child, a girl of twelve or more, the daughter perhaps of one of the
+persons whom I had left upon the battle-field of Friedland. I advanced a
+few steps nearer, and in my softest voice, for I was afraid of
+frightening her, said: &quot;Mademoiselle, can you tell me if Madame de
+Meilhan is near here?&quot; At these words I saw a young and beautiful
+creature, tall, slender, erect, lift herself like a lily from among the
+reeds, and trembling and pale, examine me with the air of a startled
+gazelle. I stood mute and motionless, gazing at her. Surely she
+possessed the royal beauty of the lily. An imagination enamored of the
+melodies of the antique muse would have immediately taken her for the
+nymph of that brook. Like two blue-bells in a field of ripe grain, her
+large blue eyes were as limpid as the stream which reflected the azure
+of the sky. On her brow sat the pride of the huntress Diana. Her
+attitude and the expression of her face betrayed a royalty which desired
+to conceal its greatness, a strange mixture of timorous boldness and
+superb timidity&mdash;and over it all, the brilliancy of youth&mdash;a nameless
+charm of innocence and childishness tempered in a charming manner the
+dignity of her noble presence.</p>
+
+<p>I turned away, charmed and agitated, not having spoken a word. After
+wandering about sometime longer I finally discovered the little army
+corps, marching towards the ch&acirc;teau, the general always ahead. As I had
+anticipated, the battle was about over, a few shots fired at the
+fugitives were alone heard. Edgar saw me in the distance, and looked
+furious. &quot;Ah traitor!&quot; said he, &quot;you have lagged behind! I am riddled
+with balls; I have six bullets in my breast,&quot; &quot;Monsieur,&quot; cried the
+general, &quot;at what juncture did you leave the combat?&quot; &quot;You see,&quot; said
+Edgar to me, &quot;that the torture is about to commence again.&quot; &quot;General,&quot;
+observed Madame de Meilhan, &quot;I think that the munitions are exhausted
+and dinner is ready.&quot; &quot;Very well,&quot; gravely replied the hero, &quot;we will
+take Lubeck at dessert.&quot; &quot;Alas! we are taken;&quot; said Edgar, heaving a
+sigh that would have lifted off a piece of the Cordilleras.</p>
+
+<p>M. de Meilhan left the group of promenaders and joined me; we walked
+side by side. You can imagine, madame, how anxious I was to question
+Edgar; you can also comprehend the feeling of delicacy which restrained
+me. My poet worships beauty; but it is a pagan worship of color and
+form. The result is, a certain boldness of detail not always excusable
+by grace of expression, in his description of a beautiful woman; too
+lively an enthusiasm for the flesh; too great a satisfaction in drawing
+lines and contours not to shock the refined. A woman poses before him
+like a statue or rather like a Georgian in a slave-market, and from the
+manner in which he analyzes and dissects her, you would say that he
+wanted either to sell or buy her. I allude now to his speech only, which
+is lively, animated but rather French its picturesque crudity. As a poet
+he sculptures like Phidias, and his verse has all the dazzling purity of
+marble.</p>
+
+<p>I preferred to apply to Madame de Meilhan. On our return to the ch&acirc;teau
+I questioned her, and learned that my beautiful unknown was named Madame
+Louise Gu&eacute;rin. At that word &quot;Madame&quot; my heart contracted. Wherefore? I
+could not tell. Afterwards I learned that she was a widow and poor, that
+she lived by the labor of those pretty fingers which I had seen dabbling
+in the water. Further than that, Madame de Meilhan knew nothing, her
+remarks were confined to indulgent suppositions and benevolent comments.
+A woman so young, so beautiful, so poor, working for her livelihood,
+must be a noble and pure creature. I felt for her a respectful pity,
+which her appearance in the drawing-room in all the magnificence of her
+beauty, grace and youth, changed into extravagant admiration. Our eyes
+met as if we had a secret between us; she appeared, and I yielded to the
+charm of her presence. Edgar observed that she was his mother's
+companion, who would remain with her until he married. The wretch! if he
+had not written such fine verses, I would have strangled him on the
+spot. I sat opposite her at dinner, and could observe her at my ease.
+She appeared like a young queen at the board of one of her great
+vassals. Grave and smiling, she spoke little, but so to the point, and
+in so sweet a voice, that I cherished in my heart every word that fell
+from her lips, like pearls from a casket. I also was silent and was
+astonished, that when she did not speak, any one should dare to open his
+lips before her. Edgar's witty sallies seemed to be in the worst
+possible taste, and twenty times I was on the point of saying to him:
+&quot;Edgar, do you not see that the queen is listening to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At dessert, as the general was preparing to manoeuvre the artillery of
+the siege, every one rose precipitately, to escape the capture and
+pillage of Lubeck. Edgar rushed into the park, the guests dispersed; and
+while Madame de Meilhan, bearing with heroic resignation the
+inconveniences attached to her dignity as mistress of the house, fought
+by the general's side like Clorinde by the side of Argant, I found
+myself alone, with the young widow, upon the terrace of the ch&acirc;teau. We
+talked, and a powerful enchantment compelled me to surrender my soul
+into her keeping. I amazed myself by confiding to her what I had never
+told myself.</p>
+
+<p>My most cherished and hidden feelings were drawn irresistibly forth from
+the inmost recesses of my bosom. When I spoke, I seemed to translate her
+thoughts; when she in turn replied, she paraphrased mine. In less than
+an hour I learned to know her. She possessed, at the same time, an
+experimental mind, which could descend to the root of things, and a
+tender and inexperienced heart which life had never troubled.
+Theoretically she was governed by a lofty and precocious reason ripened
+by misfortune; practically, she was swayed by the dictates of an
+innocent and untried soul. Until now, she has lived only in the activity
+of her thoughts; the rest of her being sleeps, seeks or awaits. Who is
+she? She is not a widow. Albert Gu&eacute;rin is not her name; she has never
+been married. Where Madame de Meilhan hesitates, I doubt, I decide. How
+does it happen that the mystery with which she is surrounded has to me
+all the prestige and lustre of a glowing virtue? How is it that my heart
+rejoices at it when my prudence should take alarm? Another mystery,
+which I do not undertake to explain. All that I know is, that she is
+poor, and that if I had a crown I should wish to ennoble it by placing
+it upon that lovely brow.</p>
+
+<p>Do not tell me that this is madness; that love is not born of a look or
+a word, that it must germinate in the heart for a season before it can
+bear fruit. Enthusiasts live fast. They reach the same end as reason,
+and by like paths; only reason drags its weary length along, while
+enthusiasm flies on eagle's wing. Besides, this love has long since
+budded; it only sought a heart to twine itself around. Is it love? I
+deceive myself perhaps. Whence this feeling that agitates me? this
+intoxication that has taken possession of me? this radiance that dazzles
+me? I saw her again, and the charm increased. How you would love her!
+how my mother would have loved her!</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of these preoccupations I have not forgotten, madame, the
+instructions that you gave me. That you are interested in Mademoiselle
+de Chateaudun's destiny suffices to interest me likewise. The Prince de
+Monbert is expected here; I can therefore send you, in a few days, the
+information you desire taken on the spot. It has been ten years since I
+have seen the Prince; he has a brilliant mind and a loyal heart, and he
+has, in his life, seen more tigers and postilions than any other man in
+France. I will scrupulously note any change that ten years' travel may
+have brought about in his manner of thinking and seeing; but I believe
+that I can safely declare beforehand, that nothing can be found in his
+frank nature to justify the flight of the strange and beautiful heiress.</p>
+
+<p>Accept, madame, my respectful homage.</p>
+
+<p>RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXII'></a><h2>XXII.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> M. LE COMTE DE VILLIERS,<br />
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+Rouen, July 10th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Very rarely in life do we receive letters that we expect; we always
+receive those that we don't expect. The expected ones inform us of what
+we already know; the unexpected ones tell us of things entirely new. A
+philosopher prefers the latter&mdash;of which I now send you one.</p>
+
+<p>I passed some hours at Richeport with you and Edgar, and there I made a
+discovery that you must have made before me, and a reflection that you
+will make after me. I am sixty years old in my feelings&mdash;travel ages one
+more than anything else&mdash;you are twenty-five, according to your
+baptismal register. How fortunate you are to have some one able to give
+you advice! How unfortunate I am that my experience has been sad enough
+to enable me to be that one to give it! But I have a vague presentiment
+that my advice will bring you happiness, if followed. We should never
+neglect a presentiment. Every man carries in him a spark of Heaven's
+intelligence&mdash;it is often the torch that illumines the darkness of our
+future. This is called presentiment.</p>
+
+<p>Read attentively, and do not disturb yourself about the end. I must
+first explain by what means of observation I made my discovery. Then the
+d&eacute;no&ucirc;ement will appear in its proper place, which is not at the
+beginning.</p>
+
+<p>The following is what I saw at the Ch&acirc;teau de Richeport. You did not see
+it, because you were an actor. I was merely a spectator, and had that
+advantage over you.</p>
+
+<p>You, Edgar, and myself were in the parlor at noon. It is the hour in the
+country when one takes shelter behind closed blinds to enjoy a friendly
+chat. One is always sad, dreamy, meditative at this hour of a lovely
+summer-day, and can speak carelessly of indifferent things, and at the
+same time have every thought concentrated upon one beloved object.
+These are the mysteries of the <i>D&eacute;mon de Midi</i>, so much dreaded by the
+poet-king.</p>
+
+<p>There was in one corner of the room a little rosewood-table, so frail
+that it could be crushed by the weight of a man's hand. On this table
+was a piece of embroidery and a crystal vase filled with flowers.
+Suspended over this table was a copy of Camille Roqueplan's picture:
+&quot;<i>The Lion in Love.</i>&quot; In the recess near the window was a piano open,
+and evidently just abandoned by a woman; the little stool was
+half-overturned by catching in the dress of some one suddenly rising,
+and the music open was a soprano air from <i>Puritani</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+&quot;Vien diletto, in ciel e luna,<br />
+Tutto tace intorno....&quot;<br />
+
+<p>You will see how by inductions I reached the truth. I don't know the
+woman of this piano; I nevertheless will swear she exists. Moreover, I
+know she is young, pretty, has a good figure, is graceful and easy in
+her manner, and is adored by some one in the ch&acirc;teau. If any ordinary
+woman had left her embroidery on the table, if she had upset the stool
+in leaving the piano, two idle nervous young men like yourselves would
+from curiosity and ennui have examined the embroidery, disarranged the
+vase of flowers, picked up the stool, and closed the piano. But no hand
+dared to meddle with this holy disorder under pretext of arranging it.
+These evidences, still fresh and undisturbed, attest a respect that
+belongs only to love.</p>
+
+<p>This woman, to me unknown, is then young and pretty, since she is so
+ardently loved, and by more than one person, as I shall proceed to
+prove. She has a commanding figure, because her embroidery is fine. I
+know not if she be maid or wife, but this I do know, if she is not
+married, the vestiges that she left in the parlor indicate a great
+independence of position and character. If she is married, she is not
+governed by her husband, or indeed she may be a widow.</p>
+
+<p>Allow me to recall your conversation with Edgar at dinner. Hitherto I
+have remarked that in all discussions of painting, music, literature
+and love, your opinions always coincided with Edgar's; to hear you speak
+was to hear Edgar, and <i>vice versa</i>. In opinions and sentiments you were
+twin-brothers. Now listen how you both expressed yourselves before me on
+that day.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe,&quot; said Edgar, &quot;that love is a modern invention, and woman was
+invented by Andr&eacute; Ch&eacute;nier, and perfected by Victor Hugo, Dumas and
+Balzac. We owe this precious conquest to the revolution of '89. Before
+that, love did not exist; Cupid with his bow and quiver reigned as a
+sovereign. There were no women, there were only <i>beauties</i>.</p>
+
+&quot;O, miracle des belles,<br />
+Je vous enseignerais un nid de tourterelles.&quot;<br />
+
+<p>&quot;These two lines have undergone a thousand variations under the pens of
+a thousand poets. Women were only commended for their eyes&mdash;very
+beautiful things when they <i>are</i> beautiful, but they should not be made
+the object of exclusive admiration. A beauty possessing no attraction
+but beautiful eyes would soon lose her sway over the hearts of men.
+Racine has used the words <i>eye</i> and <i>eyes</i> one hundred and sixty-five
+times in <i>Andromache</i>. Woman has been deprived of her divine crown of
+golden or chestnut hair; she has been dethroned by having it covered
+with white powder. We have avenged woman for her long neglect; we have
+preserved the <i>eyes</i> and added all the other charms. Thus women love us
+poets; and in our days Orpheus would not be torn to pieces by snowy
+hands on the shores of the Strymon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! that is just like you, Edgar,&quot; you said, with a sad laugh and a
+would-be calm voice. &quot;At dessert you always give us a dish of paradoxes.
+I myself greatly prefer Montmorency cherries.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Some minutes after Edgar said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The other day I paid a visit to Delacroix. He has commenced a picture
+that promises to be superb; my dear traveller, Roger, it will possess
+the sky you love&mdash;pure indigo, the celestial carpet of the blue god.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I abhor blue,&quot; you said; &quot;I dread ophthalmia. Surfeit of blue compels
+the use of green spectacles. I adore the skies of Hobbema and
+Backhuysen; one can look at them with the naked eye for twenty years,
+and yet never need an oculist in old age.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After some rambling conversation you uttered an eulogy on a sacred air
+of Palestrina that you heard sung at the Conservatory concert. When you
+had finished, Edgar rested his elbows on the table, his chin on his
+hand, and let fall from his lips the following words, warmed by the
+spiritual fire of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have always abhorred church-music,&quot; said he. &quot;Sacred music is
+proscribed in my house as opium is in China. I like none but sentimental
+music. All that does not resemble in some way the <i>Amor possente nome</i>
+of Rossini must remained buried in the catacombs of the piano. Music was
+only created for women and love. Doubtless simplicity is beautiful, but
+it so often only belongs to simple people.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Art is the only passion of a true artist. The music of Palestrina
+resembles the music of Rossini about as much as the twitter of the
+swallow resembles the song of the nightingale.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was evident to me, my young friend, that neither of you expressed
+your genuine convictions and true opinions. You were sitting opposite,
+and yet neither looked at the other while speaking. You both were
+handsome and charming, but handsome and charming like two English cocks
+before a fight. What particularly struck me was that neither of you ever
+said: &quot;What is the matter with you to-day, my friend? you seem to
+delight in contradicting me.&quot; Edgar did not ask you this question, nor
+did you ask it of him. You thought it useless to inquire into the cause
+of these half-angry contradictions; you both knew what you were about.
+You and Edgar both love the same woman. It is the woman who suddenly
+retreated from the piano. Perhaps she left the house after some
+disagreeable scene between you two in her presence.</p>
+
+<p>I watched all your movements when we three were together in the parlor.
+The tone of your voices, naturally sonorous, sounded harsh and
+discordant; you held in your hand a branch of <i>hibiscus</i> that you idly
+pulled to pieces. Edgar opened a magazine and read it upside downwards;
+it was quite evident that you were a restraint upon each other, and
+that I was a restraint upon you both.</p>
+
+<p>At intervals Edgar would cast a furtive glance at the open piano, at the
+embroidery, and the vase of flowers; you unconsciously did the same; but
+your two glances never met at the same point; when Edgar looked at the
+flowers, you looked at the piano; if either of you had been alone, you
+would have never taken your eyes off these trifles that bore the
+perfumed impression of a beloved woman's hand, and which seemed to
+retain some of her personality and to console you in her absence.</p>
+
+<p>You were the last comer in the house adorned by the presence of this
+woman; you are also the most reasonable, therefore your own sense and
+what is due to friendship must have already dictated your line of
+conduct&mdash;let me add my advice in case your conscience is not quite
+awake&mdash;fly! fly! before it is too late&mdash;linger, and your self-love, your
+interested vanity, will no longer permit you to give place to a friend
+who will have become a rival. Passion has not yet taken deep root in
+your heart; at present it is nothing more than a fancy, a transitory
+preference, a pleasant employment of your idle moments.</p>
+
+<p>In the country, every young woman is more or less disposed to break the
+hearts of young men, like you, who gravitate like satellites. Women
+delight in this play&mdash;but like many other tragic plays, it commences
+with smiles but terminates in tears and blood! Moreover, my young
+friend, in withdrawing seasonably, you are not only wise, you are
+generous!</p>
+
+<p>I know that Edgar has been for a long time deeply in love with this
+woman; you are merely indulging in a rural flirtation, a momentary
+caprice. In a little while, vain rivalry will make you blind, embitter
+your disposition, and deceive you as to the nature of your
+sentiments&mdash;believing yourself seriously in love you will be unable to
+withdraw. To-day your pride is not interested; wait not until to-morrow.
+Edgar is your friend, you must respect his prerogatives. A woman gave
+you a wise example to follow&mdash;she suddenly withdrew from the presence of
+you both when she saw a threatening danger.</p>
+
+<p>A pretty woman is always dangerous when she comes to inaugurate the
+divinity of her charms in a lonely ch&acirc;teau, in the presence of two
+inflammable young men. I detect the cunning of the fair unknown: she
+lavishes innocent smiles upon both of you&mdash;she equally divides her
+coquetries between you; she approaches you to dazzle&mdash;she leaves you to
+make herself regretted; she entangles you in the illusion of her
+brilliant fascination; she moves to seduce your senses; she speaks to
+charm your soul; she sings to destroy your reason.</p>
+
+<p>Forget yourself for one instant, my young friend, on this flowery slope,
+and woe betide you when you reach the bottom! Be intoxicated by this
+feast of sweet words, soft perfumes and radiant smiles, then send me a
+report of your soul's condition when you recover your senses! At
+present, in spite of your skirmishes of wit, you are still the friend of
+Edgar ... hostility will certainly come. Friendship is too feeble a
+sentiment to struggle against love. This passion is more violent than
+tropical storms&mdash;I have felt it&mdash;I am one of its victims now! There
+lives another woman&mdash;half siren, half Circe&mdash;who has crossed my path in
+life, as you well know. If I had collected in my house as many friends
+as Socrates desired to see in his, and all these friends were to become
+my rivals, I feel that my jealousy would fire the house, and I would
+gladly perish in the flames after seeing them all dead before my eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, fatal preoccupation! I only wished to speak of your affairs, and
+here I am talking of my own. The clouds that I heap upon your horizon
+roll back towards mine.</p>
+
+<p>In exchange for my advice, render me a service. You know Madame de
+Braimes, the friend of Mlle. de Chateaudun. Madame de Braimes is
+acquainted with everything that I am ignorant of, and that my happiness
+in life depends upon discovering. It is time for the inexplicable to be
+explained. A human enigma cannot for ever conceal its answer. Every
+trial must end before the despair of him who is tried. Madame de Braimes
+is an accomplice in this enigma; her secret now is a burden on her
+lips, she must let it fall into your ear, and I will cherish a life-long
+gratitude to you both.</p>
+
+<p>Any friend but you would smile at this apparently strange language&mdash;I
+write you a long chapter of psychological and moral inductions to show
+my knowledge about the management of love affairs and affairs
+otherwise&mdash;I divine all your enigmas; I illuminate the darkness of all
+your mysteries, and when it comes to working on my own account, to be
+perspicacious for my own benefit, to make discoveries about my own love
+affair, I suddenly abdicate, I lose my luminous faculties, I put a band
+over my eyes, and humbly beg a friend to lend me the thread of the
+labyrinth and guide my steps in the bewildering darkness. All this must
+appear singular to you, to me it is quite natural. Through the thousand
+dark accidents that love scatters in the path of life, light can only
+reach us by means of a friend. We ourselves are helpless; looking at
+others we are lynx-eyed, looking at ourselves we are almost blind. It is
+the optical nerve of the passions. It is mortifying to thus sacrifice
+the highest prerogatives of man at the feet of a woman, to feel
+compelled to yield to her caprices and submit to the inexorable
+exigencies of love. The artificial life I am leading is odious to me.
+Patience is a virtue that died with Job, and I cannot perform the
+miracle of resuscitating it.</p>
+
+<p>Take my advice&mdash;be prudent&mdash;be wise&mdash;be generous&mdash;leave Richeport and
+come to me; we can assist and console each other; you can render me a
+great service, I will explain how when we meet&mdash;I will remain here for a
+few days; do not hesitate to come at once&mdash;Between a friend who fears
+you and a friend who loves you and claims you&mdash;can you hesitate?</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXIII'></a><h2>XXIII.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN to Mme. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+Pont de L'Arche, July 15th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Come to my help, my dear Valentine&mdash;I am miserable. Each joyless morning
+finds me more wretched than I was the previous night. Oh! what a burden
+is life to those who are fated to live only for life itself! No sunshine
+gilds my horizon with the promises of hope&mdash;I expect nothing but sorrow.
+Who can I trust now that my own heart has misled me? When error arose
+from the duplicity of others I could support the disenchantment&mdash;the
+deceptive love of Roger was not a bitter surprise, my instinct had
+already divined it; I comprehended a want of congeniality between us,
+and felt that a rapture would anticipate an alliance: and while thinking
+I loved him, I yet said to myself: This is not love.</p>
+
+<p>But now I am my own deceiver&mdash;and I awaken to lament the self-confidence
+and assurance that were the source of my strength and courage. With
+flattering ecstasy I cried: It is he!... Alas! he replied not: It is
+she! And now he is gone&mdash;he has left me! Dreadful awakening from so
+beautiful a dream!</p>
+
+<p>Valentine, burn quickly the letter telling you of my ingenuous hopes, my
+confident happiness&mdash;yes, burn the foolish letter, so there will remain
+no witness of my unrequited love! What! that deep emotion agitating my
+whole being, whose language was the tears of joy that dimmed my eyes,
+and the counted beatings of my throbbing heart&mdash;that master-passion, at
+whose behest I trembled while blushes mantled and fled from my cheek,
+betraying me to him and him to me; the love whose fire I could not
+hide&mdash;the beautiful future I foresaw&mdash;that world of bliss in which I
+began to live&mdash;this pure love that gave an impetus to life&mdash;this
+devotion that I felt was reciprocated.... All, all was but a creation of
+my fancy.... and all has vanished ... here I am alone with nothing to
+strengthen me but a memory ... the memory of a lost illusion.... Have I
+a right to complain? It is the irrevocable law&mdash;after fiction,
+reality&mdash;after a meteor, darkness&mdash;after the mirage, a desert!</p>
+
+<p>I loved as a young heart full of faith and tenderness never loved
+before&mdash;and this love was a mistake; he was a stranger to me&mdash;he did not
+love me, and I had no excuse for loving him; he is gone, he had a right
+to go, and I had no right to detain him&mdash;I have not even the right to
+mourn his absence. Who is he? A friend of Madame de Meilhan, and a
+stranger to me!... He a stranger!... to me!... No, no, he loves me, I
+know he does ... but why did he not tell me so! Has some one come
+between us? Perhaps a suspicion separates us.... Oh! he may think I am
+in love with Edgar! horrible idea! the thought kills me.... I will write
+to him; would you not advise it? What shall I tell him? If he were to
+know who I am, doubtless his prejudices against me would be removed. Oh!
+I will return to Paris&mdash;then he will see that I do not love Edgar, since
+I leave him never to return where he is. Yet he could not have been
+mistaken concerning the feelings existing between his friend and myself;
+he must have seen that I was perfectly free: independence cannot be
+assumed. If he thought me in love with another, why did he come to bid
+me good-bye? why did he come alone to see me? and why did he not allude
+to my approaching return to Paris?&mdash;why did he not say he would be glad
+to meet me again? How pale and sad he was! and yet he uttered not one
+word of regret&mdash;of distant hope! The servant said: &quot;Monsieur de Villiers
+wishes to see madame, shall I send him away as I did Monsieur de
+Meilhan?&quot; I was in the garden and advanced to meet him. He said: &quot;I
+return to Paris to-morrow, madame, and have come to see if you have any
+commands, and to bid you good-bye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Two long days had passed since I last saw him, and this unexpected visit
+startled me so that I was afraid to trust my voice to speak. &quot;They will
+miss you very much at Richeport,&quot; he added, &quot;and Madame de Meilhan hopes
+daily to see you return.&quot; I hastily said: &quot;I cannot return to her
+house, I am going away from here very soon.&quot; He did not ask where, but
+gazed at me in a strange, almost suspicious way, and to change the
+conversation, said: &quot;We had at Richeport, after you left, a charming
+man, who is celebrated for his wit and for being a great traveller&mdash;the
+Prince de Monbert.&quot; ... He spoke as if on an indifferent subject, and
+Heaven knows he was right, for Roger at this moment interested me very,
+very little. I waited for a word of the future, a ray of hope to
+brighten my life, another of those tender glances that thrilled my soul
+with joy ... but he avoided all allusion to our past intercourse; he
+shunned my looks as carefully as he had formerly sought them.... I was
+alarmed.... I no longer understood him.... I looked around to see if we
+were not watched, so changed was his manner, so cold and formal was his
+speech.... Strange! I was alone with him, but he was not alone with me;
+there was a third person between us, invisible to me, but to him
+visible, dictating his words and inspiring his conduct.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall you remain long in Paris?&quot; I asked, trembling and dismayed. &quot;I am
+not decided at present, madame,&quot; he replied. Irritated by this mystery,
+I was tempted for a moment to say: &quot;I hope, if you remain in Paris for
+any length of time, I shall have the pleasure of seeing you at my
+cousin's, the Duchess de Langeac,&quot; and then I thought of telling him my
+story. I was tired of playing the r&ocirc;le of adventuress before him ... but
+he seemed so preoccupied, and inattentive to what I said, he so coldly
+received my affectionate overtures, that I had not the courage to
+confide in him. Would not my confidence be met with indifference? One
+thing consoled me&mdash;his sadness; and then he had come, not on my account,
+but on his own; nothing obliged him to make this visit; it could only
+have been inspired by a wish to see me. While he remained near me, in
+spite of his strange indifference, I had hope; I believed that in his
+farewell there would be one kind word upon which I could live till we
+should meet again ... I was mistaken ... he bowed and left me ... left
+me without a word ...! Then I felt that all was lost, and bursting into
+tears sobbed like a child. Suddenly the servant opened the door and
+said: &quot;The gentleman forgot Madame de Meilhan's letters.&quot; At that moment
+he entered the room and took from the table a packet of letters that the
+servant had given him when he first came, but which he had forgotten
+when leaving. At the sight of my tears he stood still with an agitated,
+alarmed look upon his face; he then gazed at me with a singular
+expression of cruel joy sparkling in his eyes. I thought he had come
+back to say something to me, but he abruptly left the room. I heard the
+door shut, and knew it had shut off my hopes of happiness.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, at the risk of meeting Edgar with him, I remained all day
+on the road that runs along the Seine. I hoped he would go that way. I
+also hoped he would come once more to see me ... to bring him back I
+relied upon my tears&mdash;upon those tears shed for him, and which he must
+have understood ... he came not! Three days have passed since he left,
+and I spend all my time in recalling this last interview, what he said
+to me, his tone of voice, his look.... One minute I find an explanation
+for everything, my faith revives ... he loves me! he is waiting for
+something to happen, he wishes to take some step, he fears some
+obstacle, he waits to clear up some doubts ... a generous scruple
+restrains him.... The next minute the dreadful truth stares me in the
+face. I say to myself: &quot;He is a young man full of imagination, of
+romantic ideas ... we met, I pleased him, he would have loved me had I
+belonged to his station in life; but everything separates us; he will
+forget me.&quot; ... Then, revolting against a fate that I can successfully
+resist, I exclaim: &quot;I <i>will</i> see him again ... I am young, free, and
+beautiful&mdash;I must be beautiful, for he told me so&mdash;I have an income of a
+hundred thousand pounds.... With all these blessings it would be absurd
+for me not to be happy. Besides, I love him deeply, and this ardent love
+inspires me with great confidence ... it is impossible that so much love
+should be born in my heart for no purpose.&quot; ... Sometimes this
+confidence deserts me, and I despairingly say: &quot;M. de Villiers is a
+loyal man, who would have frankly said to me: 'I love you, love me and
+let us be happy.'&quot; ... Since he did not say that, there must exist
+between us an insurmountable obstacle, a barrier of invincible delicacy;
+because he is engaged he cannot devote his life to me, and he must
+renounce me for ever. M. de Meilhan comes here every day; I send word I
+am too sick to see him; which is the truth, for I would be in Paris now
+if I were well enough to travel. I shall not return by the cars, I dread
+meeting Roger. I forgot to tell you about his arrival at Richeport; it
+is an amusing story; I laughed very much at the time; <i>then</i> I could
+laugh, now I never expect to smile again.</p>
+
+<p>Four days ago, I was at Richeport, all the time wishing to leave, and
+always detained by Mad. de Meilhan; it was about noon, and we were all
+sitting in the parlor&mdash;Edgar, M. de Villiers, Mad. de Meilhan and
+myself. Ah! how happy I was that day ... How could I foresee any
+trouble?... They were listening to an air I was playing from Bellini ...
+A servant entered and asked this simple question: &quot;Does madame expect
+the Prince de Monbert by the twelve o'clock train?&quot;..... At this name I
+quickly fled, without stopping to pick up the piano stool that I
+overturned in my hurried retreat. I ran to my room, took my hat and an
+umbrella to hide my face should I meet any one, and walked to Pont de
+l'Arche. Soon after I heard the Prince had arrived, and dinner was
+ordered for five o'clock, so he could leave in the 7.30 train.
+Politeness required me to send word to Mad. de Meilhan that I would be
+detained at Pont de l'Arche. To avoid the entreaties of Edgar I took
+refuge at the house of an old fishwoman, near the gate of the town. She
+is devoted to me, and I often take her children toys and clothes. At
+half-past six, the time for Roger to be taken to the dep&ocirc;t, I was at the
+window of this house, which was on the road that led to the
+cars&mdash;presently I heard several familiar voices.... I heard my name
+distinctly pronounced.... &quot;Mlle de Chateaudun.&quot; ... I concealed myself
+behind the half-closed blinds, and attentively listened: &quot;She is at
+Rouen,&quot; said the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>... &quot;What a strange woman,&quot; said M. de Villiers: &quot;Ah! this conduct is
+easily explained,&quot; said Edgar, &quot;she is angry with him.&quot; &quot;Doubtless she
+believes me culpable,&quot; replied the Prince, &quot;and I wish at all costs to
+see her and justify myself.&quot; In speaking thus, they all three passed
+under the window where I was. I trembled&mdash;I dared not look at them....
+When they had gone by, I peeped through the shutter and saw them all
+standing still and admiring the beautiful bridge with its flower-covered
+pillars, and the superb landscape spread before them. Seeing these three
+handsome men standing there, all three so elegant, so distinguished! A
+wicked sentiment of female vanity crossed my mind; and I said to myself
+with miserable pride and triumph: &quot;All three love me ... All three are
+thinking of me!&quot; ... Oh! I have been cruelly punished for this
+contemptible vanity. Alas! one of the three did not love me&mdash;and he was
+the one I loved&mdash;one of them did not think of me, and he was the one
+that filled my every thought. Another sentiment more noble than the
+first, saddened my heart. I said: &quot;Here are three devoted friends ...
+perhaps they will soon be bitter enemies ... and I the cause.&quot; O
+Valentine! you cannot imagine how sad and despondent I am. Do not desert
+me now that I most need your comforting sympathy! Burn my last letter, I
+entreat you.</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXIV'></a><h2>XXIV.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to</i> MADAME GUERIN,<br />
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, July 10th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Three times have I been to the post-office since you left the ch&acirc;teau in
+such an abrupt and inexplicable manner. I am lost in conjecture about
+your sudden departure, which was both unnecessary and unprepared. It is
+doubtless because you do not wish to tell me the reason that you refuse
+to see me. I know that you are still at Pont de l'Arche, and that you
+have never left Madame Taverneau's house. So that when she tells me in a
+measured and mysterious tone that you have been absent for some time;
+looking at the closed door of your room, behind which I divine your
+presence, I am seized with an insane desire to kick down the narrow
+plank which separates me from you. Fits of gloomy passion possess me
+which illogical obstacles and unjust resistance always excite.</p>
+
+<p>What have I done? What can you have against me? Let me at least know the
+crime for which I am punished. On the scaffold they always read the
+victim his sentence, equitable or otherwise. Will you be more cruel than
+a hangman? Read me my sentence. Nothing is more frightful than to be
+executed in a dungeon without knowing for what offence.</p>
+
+<p>For three days&mdash;three eternities&mdash;I have taxed my memory to an alarming
+extent. I have recalled everything that I have said for the last two
+weeks, word by word, syllable for syllable, endeavoring to give to each
+expression its intonation, its inflection, its sharps and flats. Every
+different signification that the music of the voice could give to a
+thought, I have analyzed, debated, commented upon twenty times a day.
+Not a word, accent nor gesture has enlightened me. I defy the most
+embittered and envious spirit to find anything that could offend the
+most susceptible pride, the haughtiest majesty. Nothing has occurred in
+my familiar intercourse with you that would alarm a sensitive plant or
+a mimosa. Therefore, such cannot be the motive for your panic-stricken
+flight. I am young, ardent, impetuous; I attach no importance to certain
+social conventionalities, but I feel confident that I have never failed
+in a religious respect for the holiness of love and modesty. I love
+you&mdash;I could never, wilfully, have offended you. How could my eyes and
+lips have expressed what was neither in my head nor in my heart? If
+there is no fire without smoke, as a natural consequence there can be no
+smoke without fire!</p>
+
+<p>It is not that&mdash;Is it caprice or coquetry? Your mind is too serious and
+your soul too honest for such an act; and besides, what would be your
+object? Such feline cruelties may suit blas&eacute; women of the world who are
+roused by the sight of moral torture; who give, in the invisible sphere
+of the passions, feasts of the Roman empresses, where beating hearts are
+torn by the claws of the wild beasts of the soul, unbridled desires,
+insatiate hate and maddened jealousy, all the hideous pack of bad
+passions. Louise, you have not wished to play such a game with me. It
+would be unavailing and dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>Although I have been brought up in what is called the world, I am still
+a savage at heart. I can talk as others do of politics, railroads,
+social economy, literature. I can imitate civilized gesture tolerably
+well; but under this white-glove polish I have preserved the vehemence
+and simplicity of barbarism. Unless you have some serious, paramount
+reason, not one of those trivial excuses with which ordinary women
+revenge themselves upon the lukewarmness of their lovers&mdash;do not prolong
+my punishment a day, an hour, a minute&mdash;speak not to me of reputation,
+virtue or duty. You have given me the right to love you&mdash;by the light of
+the stars, under the sweet-scented acacias, in the sunlight at the
+window of Richard's donjon which opens over an abyss. You have conferred
+upon me that august priesthood. Your hand has trembled in mine. A
+celestial light, kindled by my glance, has shone in your eyes. If only
+for a moment, your soul was mine&mdash;the electric spark united us.</p>
+
+<p>It may be that this signifies nothing to you. I refuse to acknowledge
+any such subtle distinctions&mdash;that moment united us for ever. For one
+instant you wished to love me; I cannot divide my mind, soul and body
+into three distinct parts; all my being worships you and longs to obtain
+you. I cannot graduate my love according to its object. I do not know
+who you are. You might be a queen of earth or the queen of heaven; I
+could not love you otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>Receive me. You need explain nothing if you do not wish; but receive me;
+I cannot live without you. What difference does it make to you if I see
+you?</p>
+
+<p>Ah! how I suffered, even when you were at the ch&acirc;teau! What evil
+influence stood between us? I had a vague feeling that something
+important and fatal had happened. It was a sort of presentiment of the
+fulfilment of a destiny. Was your fate or mine decided in that hour, or
+both? What decisive sentence had the recording angel written upon the
+ineffaceable register of the future? Who was condemned and who absolved
+in that solemn hour?</p>
+
+<p>And yet no appreciable event happened, nothing appeared changed in our
+life. Why this fearful uneasiness, this deep dejection, this
+presentiment of a great but unknown danger? I have had that same
+instinctive perception of evil, that magnetic terror which slumbering
+misers experience when a thief prowls around their hidden treasure; it
+seemed as if some one wished to rob me of my happiness.</p>
+
+<p>We were embarrassed in each other's presence; some one acted as a
+restraint upon us. Who was it? No one was there but Raymond, one of my
+best friends, who had arrived the evening before and was soon to depart
+in order to marry his cousin, young, pretty and rich! It is singular
+that he, so gentle, so confiding, so unreserved, so chivalrous, should
+have appeared to me sharp, taciturn, rough, almost dull,&mdash;and my
+feelings towards him were full of bitterness and spite. Can friendship
+be but lukewarm hate? I fear so, for I often felt a savage desire to
+quarrel with Raymond and seize him by the throat. He talked of a blade
+of grass, a fly, of the most indifferent object, and I felt wounded as
+if by a personality. Everything he did offended me; if he stood up I was
+indignant, if he sat down I became furious; every movement of his seemed
+a provocation; why did I not perceive this sooner? How does it happen
+that the man for whom I entertain such a strong natural aversion should
+have been my friend for ten years? How strange that I should not have
+been aware of this antipathy sooner!</p>
+
+<p>And you, ordinarily so natural, so easy in your manners, became
+constrained; you scarcely answered me when he was present. The simplest
+expression agitated you; it seemed as if you had to give an account to
+some one of every word, and that you were afraid of a scolding, like a
+young girl who is brought by her mother into the drawing-room for the
+first time.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, I was sitting by you on the sofa, reading to you that
+sublime elegy of the great poet, La Tristesse d'Olympio; Raymond
+entered. You rose abruptly, like a guilty child, assumed an humble and
+repentant attitude, asking forgiveness with your eyes. In what secret
+compact, what hidden covenant, had you failed?</p>
+
+<p>The look with which Raymond answered yours doubtless contained your
+pardon, for you resumed your seat, but moved away from me so as not to
+abuse the accorded grace; I continued to read, but you no longer
+listened&mdash;you were absorbed in a delicious revery through which floated
+vaguely the lines of the poet. I was at your feet, and never have I felt
+so far away from you. The space between us, too narrow for another to
+occupy, was an abyss.</p>
+
+<p>What invisible hand dashed me down from my heaven? Who drove me, in my
+unconsciousness, as far from you as the equator from the pole? Yesterday
+your eyes, bathed in light and life, turned softly towards me; your hand
+rested willingly in mine. You accepted my love, unavowed but understood;
+for I hate those declarations which remind one of a challenge. If one
+has need to say that he loves, he is not worth loving; speech is
+intended for indifferent beings; talking is a means of keeping silent;
+you must have seen, in my glance, by the trembling of my voice, in my
+sudden changes of color, by the impalpable caress of my manner, that I
+love you madly.</p>
+
+<p>It was when Raymond looked at you that I began to appreciate the depth
+of my passion. I felt as if some one had thrust a red-hot iron into my
+heart. Ah! what a wretched country France is! If I were in Turkey, I
+would bear you off on my Arab steed, shut you up in a harem, with walls
+bristling with cimetars, surrounded by a deep moat; black eunuchs should
+sleep before the threshold of your chamber, and at night, instead of
+dogs, lions should guard the precincts!</p>
+
+<p>Do not laugh at my violence, it is sincere; no one will ever love you
+like me. Raymond cannot&mdash;a sentimental Don Quixote, in search of
+adventures and chivalrous deeds. In order to love a woman, he must have
+fished her out of the spray of Niagara; or dislocated his shoulder in
+stopping her carriage on the brink of a precipice; or snatched her out
+of the hands of picturesque bandits, costumed like Fra Diavolo; he is
+only fit for the hero of a ten-volume English novel, with a long-tailed
+coat, tight gray pantaloons and top-boots. You are too sensible to
+admire the philanthropic freaks of this modern paladin, who would be
+ridiculous were he not brave, rich and handsome; this moral Don Juan,
+who seduces by his virtue, cannot suit you.</p>
+
+<p>When shall I see you? Our moments of happiness in this life are so
+short; I have lost three days of Paradise by your persistence in
+concealing yourself. What god can ever restore them to me?</p>
+
+<p>Louise, I have only loved, till now, marble shadows, phantoms of beauty;
+but what is this love of sculpture and painting compared with the
+passion that consumes me? Ah! how bittersweet it is to be deprived at
+once of will, strength and reason, and trembling, kneeling, vanquished,
+to surrender the key of one's heart into the hands of the beautiful
+victor! Do not, like Elfrida, throw it into the torrent!</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXV'></a><h2>XXV.</h2>
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE BE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+ROUEN, July 12th 18&mdash;<br />
+
+<p>MADAME:&mdash;If you should find in these hastily written lines expressions
+of severity that might wound you in one of your tenderest affections, I
+beg you to ascribe them to the serious interest with which you have
+inspired me for a person whom I do do not know. Madame, the case is
+serious, and the comedy, performed for the gratification of childish
+vanity, might, if prolonged, end in a tragedy. Let Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun know immediately that her peace of mind, her whole future is
+at stake. You have not a day, not an hour, not an instant to lose in
+exerting your influence. I answer for nothing; haste, O haste! Your
+position, your high intelligence, your good sense give you, necessarily,
+the authority of an elder sister or a mother over Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun; exercise it if you would save that reckless girl. If she
+acts from caprice, nothing can justify it; if she is playing a game it
+is a cruel one, with ruin in the end; if she is subjecting M. de Monbert
+to a trial, it has lasted long enough.</p>
+
+<p>I accompanied M. de Monbert to Rouen; I lived in daily, hourly
+intercourse with him, and had ample opportunities for studying his
+character; he is a wounded lion. Never having had the honor of meeting
+Mademoiselle de Chateaudun, I cannot tell whether the Prince is the man
+to suit her; Mademoiselle de Chateaudun alone can decide so delicate a
+question. But I do assert that M. de Monbert is not the man to be
+trifled with, and whatever decision Mademoiselle de Chateaudun may come
+to, it is her duty and due to her dignity to put an end to his suspense.</p>
+
+<p>If she must strike, let her strike quickly, and not show herself more
+pitiless than the executioner, who, at least, puts a speedy end to his
+victim's misery. M. de Monbert, a gentleman in the highest acceptation
+of the word, would not be what he now is, if he had been treated with
+the consideration that his sincere distress so worthy of pity, his true
+love so worthy of respect, commanded. Let her not deceive herself; she
+has awakened, not one of those idle loves born in a Parisian atmosphere,
+which die as they have lived, without a struggle or a heart-break, but a
+strong and deep passion that if trifled with may destroy her. I
+acknowledge that there is something absurd in a prince on the eve of
+marrying a young and beautiful heiress finding himself deserted by his
+fianc&eacute;e with her millions; but when one has seen the comic hero of this
+little play, the scene changes. The smile fades from the lips; the jest
+is silent; terror follows in the footsteps of gayety, and the foolish
+freak of the lovely fugitive assumes the formidable proportions of a
+frightful drama. M. de Monbert is not what he is generally supposed to
+be, what I supposed him before seeing him after ten years' separation.
+His blood has been inflamed by torrid suns; he has preserved, in a
+measure, the manners and fierce passions of the distant peoples that he
+has visited; he hides it all under the polish of grace and elegance;
+affable and ready for anything, one would never suspect, to see him, the
+fierce and turbulent passions warring in his breast; he is like those
+wells in India, which he told me of this morning; they are surrounded by
+flowers and luxuriant foliage; go down into one of them and you will
+quickly return pale and horror-stricken. Madame, I assure you that this
+man suffers everything that it is possible to suffer here below. I watch
+his despair; it terrifies me. Wounded love and pride do not alone prey
+upon him; he is aware that Mademoiselle de Chateaudun may believe him
+guilty of serious errors; he demands to be allowed to justify himself in
+her eyes; he is exasperated by the consciousness of his unrecognised
+innocence. Condemn him, if you will, but at least let him be heard in
+his own defence. I have seen him writhe in agony and give way to groans
+of rage and despair. When calm, he is more terrible to contemplate; his
+silence is the pause before a tempest. Yesterday, on returning,
+discouraged, after a whole day spent in fruitless search, he took my
+hand and raised it abruptly to his eyes. &quot;Raymond,&quot; said he, &quot;I have
+never wept,&quot; and my hand was wet. If you love Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun, if her future happiness is dear to you, if her heart can
+only be touched through you, warn her, madame, warn her immediately;
+tell her plainly what she has to expect; time presses.</p>
+
+<p>It is a question of nothing less than anticipating an irreparable
+misfortune. There is but one step from love to hate; hate which takes
+revenge is still love. Tell this child that she is playing with thunder;
+tell her the thunder mutters, and will soon burst over her head. If
+Mademoiselle de Chateaudun should have a new love for her excuse, if she
+has broken her faith to give it to another, unhappy, thrice unhappy she!
+M. de Monbert has a quick eye and a practised hand; mourning would
+follow swiftly in the wake of her rejoicing, and Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun might order her widow's weeds and her bridal robes at the
+same time.</p>
+
+<p>This, madame, is all that I have to say. The foolish rapture with which
+my last letter teemed is not worth speaking of. A broken hope, crushed,
+extinguished; a happiness vanished ere fully seen! During the four days
+that I was at Richeport, I began to remark the existence between M. de
+Meilhan and myself of a sullen, secret, unavowed but real irritation,
+when a letter from M. de Monbert solved the enigma by convincing me that
+I was in the way under that roof. Fool, why did I not see it myself and
+sooner? Blind that I was, not to perceive from the first that this young
+man loved that woman! Why did I not instantly divine that this young
+poet could not live unscathed near so much beauty, grace and sweetness?
+Did I think, unhappy man that I am, that she was only fair to me; that I
+alone had eyes to admire her, a heart to worship and understand her?
+Yes, I did think it; I believed blindly that she bloomed for me alone;
+that she had not existed before our meeting; that no look, save mine,
+had ever rested upon her; that she was, in fact, my creation; that I
+had formed her of my thoughts, and vivified her with the fire of my
+dreams. Even now, when we are parted for ever, I believe, that if God
+ever created two beings for each other, we are those two beings, and if
+every soul has a sister spirit, her soul is the sister spirit of mine.
+M. de Meilhan loves her; who would not love her? But what he loves in
+her is visible beauty: the slope of her shoulders, the perfection of her
+contours. His love could not withstand a pencil-stroke which might
+destroy the harmony of the whole. Beautiful as she is, he would desert
+her for the first canvas or the first statue he might encounter. Her
+rivals already people the galleries of the Louvre; the museums of the
+world are filled with them. Edgar feels but one deep and true love; the
+love of Art, so deep that it excludes or absorbs all others in his
+heart. A fine prospect alone charms him, if it recalls a landscape of
+Ruysdael or of Paul Huet, and he prefers to the loveliest model, her
+portrait, provided it bears the signature of Ingres or Scheffer. He
+loves this woman as an artist; he has made her the delight of his eyes;
+she would have been the joy of my whole life. Besides, Edgar does not
+possess any of the social virtues. He is whimsical by nature, hostile to
+the proprieties, an enemy to every well-beaten track. His mind is always
+at war with his heart; his sincerest inspirations have the scoffing
+accompaniment of Don Juan's romance. No, he cannot make the happiness of
+this Louise so long sought for, so long hoped for, found, alas! to be
+irremediably lost. Louise deceives herself if she thinks otherwise. But
+she does not think so. What is so agonizing in the necessity that
+separates us, is the conviction that such a separation blasts two
+destinies, silently united. I do not repine at the loss of my own
+happiness alone, but above all, over that of this noble creature. I am
+convinced that when we met, we recognised each other; she mentally
+exclaimed, &quot;It is he!&quot; when I told myself, &quot;It is she!&quot; When I went to
+bid her farewell, a long, eternal farewell, I found her pale, sad; the
+tears rolled, unchecked, down her cheeks. She loves me, I know it; I
+feel it; and still I must depart! she wept and I was forced to be
+silent! One single word would have opened Paradise to us, and that word
+I could not utter! Farewell, sweet dream, vanished for ever! And thou,
+stern and stupid honor, I curse thee while I serve thee, and execrate
+while I sacrifice all to thee. Ah! do not think that I am resigned; do
+not believe that pride can ever fill up the abyss into which I have
+voluntarily cast myself; do not hope that some day I shall find
+self-satisfaction as a recompense for my abnegation. There are moments
+when I hate myself and rebel against my own imbecility. Why depart? What
+is Edgar to me? still less, what interest have I in his love episodes? I
+love; I feel myself loved in return; what have I to do with anything
+else?</p>
+
+<p>Contempt for my cowardly virtue is the only price that I have received
+for my sacrifice, and I twit myself with this thought of Pascal: &quot;Man is
+neither an angel nor a brute, and the misfortune is that when he wishes
+to make himself an angel, he becomes a brute!&quot; Be silent, my heart! At
+least it shall never be said that the descendant of a race of cavaliers
+entered his friend's house to rob him of his happiness.</p>
+
+<p>I am sad, madame. The bright ray seen for a moment, has but made the
+darkness into which I have fallen, more black and sombre; I am
+unutterably sad! What is to become of me? Where shall I drag out my
+weary days? I do not know. Everything wearies and bores me, or rather
+all things are indifferent to me. I think I will travel. Wherever I go,
+your image will accompany me, consoling me, if I can be consoled. At
+first I thought that I would carry you my heart to comfort; but my
+unhappiness is dear to me, and I do not wish to be cured of it.</p>
+
+<p>I press M. de Braimes's hand, and clasp your charming children warmly to
+my heart.</p>
+
+<p>RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXVI'></a><h2>XXVI.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+Poste Restante (Rouen).<br />
+<br />
+Richeport, July 23d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>I am mad with rage, wild with grief! That Louise! I do not know what
+keeps me from setting fire to the house that conceals her! I must go
+away; I shall commit some insane act, some crime, if I remain! I have
+written her letter after letter; I have tried in every way to see her;
+all my efforts unavailing! It is like beating your head against a wall!
+Coquette and prude!&mdash;appalling combination, too common a monstrosity,
+alas!</p>
+
+<p>She will not see me! all is over! nothing can overcome her stupid,
+obstinacy which she takes for virtue. If I could only have spoken to her
+once, I should have said&mdash;I don't know what, but I should have found
+words to make her return to me. But she entrenches herself behind her
+obstinacy; she knows that I would vanquish her; she has no good
+arguments with which to answer me; for I love her madly, desperately,
+frantically! Passion is eloquent. She flies from me! O perfidy and
+cowardice! she dare not face the misery she has caused, and veils her
+eyes when she strikes!</p>
+
+<p>I am going to America. I will dull my mental grief by physical
+exhaustion; I will subdue the soul through the body; I will ascend the
+giant rivers whose bosoms bloom with thousands of islands; penetrate
+into the virgin forests where no trapper has yet set his foot; I will
+hunt the buffalo with the savage, and swim upon that ocean of shaggy
+heads and sharp horns; I will gallop at full speed over the prairie,
+pursued by the smoke of the burning grass. If the memory of Louise
+refuses to leave me, I will stop my horse and await the flames! I will
+carry my love so far away that it must perforce leave me.</p>
+
+<p>I feel it, my life is wrecked for ever!&mdash;I cannot live in a world where
+Louise is not mine! Perhaps the young universe may contain a panacea
+for my anguish! Solitude shall pour its balm in my wound; once away from
+this civilization which stifles me, nature will cradle me in her
+motherly arms; the elements will resume their empire over me; ocean,
+sky, flowers, foliage will draw off the feverish electricity that
+excites my nerves; I will become absorbed in the grand whole, I will no
+longer live; I will vegetate and succeed in attaining the content of the
+plant that opens its leaves to the sun. I feel that I must stop my
+brain, suspend the beating of my heart, or I shall go raving mad.</p>
+
+<p>I shall sail from Havre. A year from now write to me at the English fort
+in the Rocky Mountains, and I will join you in whatever corner of the
+globe you have gone to bury your despair over the loss of Irene de
+Chateaudun!</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXVII'></a><h2>XXVII.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to</i> MADAME GUERIN,<br />
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).<br />
+<br />
+RICHEPORT, July 23d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Louise, I write to you, although the resolution that I have taken
+should, no doubt, he silently carried out; but the swimmer struggling
+with the waves in mid-ocean cannot help, although he knows it is
+useless, uttering a last wild cry ere he sinks forever beneath the
+flood. Perhaps a sail may appear on the desert horizon and his last
+despairing shout be heard! It is so hard to believe ourselves finally
+condemned and to renounce all hope of pardon! My letter will be of no
+avail, and yet I cannot help sending it.</p>
+
+<p>I am going to leave France, change worlds and skies. My passage is taken
+for America. The murmur of ocean and forest must soothe my despair. A
+great sorrow requires immensity. I would suffocate here. I should
+expect, at every turn, to see your white dress gleaming among the trees.
+Richeport is too much associated with you for me to dwell here longer;
+your memory has exiled me from it for ever. I must put a huge
+impossibility between myself and you; six thousand miles hardly suffice
+to separate us.</p>
+
+<p>If I remained, I should resort to all manner of mad schemes to recover
+my happiness; no one gives up his cherished dream with more reluctance
+than I, especially when a word could make it a reality.</p>
+
+<p>Louise, Louise, why do you avoid me and close your heart against me! You
+have not understood, perhaps, how much I love you? Has not my devotion
+shone in my eyes? I have not been able, perhaps, to convey to you what I
+felt? You have no more comprehended my adoration than the insensate idol
+the prayers of the faithful prostrated before it.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, I was convinced that I could make you happy; I thought
+that I appreciated the longings of your soul, and would be able to
+satisfy them all.</p>
+
+<p>What crime have I committed against heaven to be punished with this
+biting despair? Perhaps I have failed to appreciate some sincere
+affection, repulsed unwittingly some simple, tender heart that your
+coldness now avenges; perhaps you are, unconsciously, the Nemesis of
+some forgotten fault.</p>
+
+<p>How fearful it is to suffer from rejected love! To say to oneself: &quot;The
+loved one exists, far from me, without me; she is young, smiling,
+lovely&mdash;to others; my despair is only an annoyance to her, I am
+necessary to her in nothing; my absence leaves no void in her life; my
+death would only provoke from her an expression of careless pity; my
+good and noble qualities have made no impression upon her; my verses,
+the delight of other young hearts, she has never read; my talents are as
+destructive to me as if they were crimes; why seek a hell in another
+world; is it not here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And besides, what infinite tenderness, what perpetual care, what timid
+and loving persistence, what obedience to every unexpressed wish, what
+prompt realization of even the slightest fancy! for what! for a careless
+glance, a smile that the thought of another brings to her lips! How can
+it be helped! he who is not beloved is always in the wrong.</p>
+
+<p>I go away, carrying the iron in my wound; I will not drag it out, I
+prefer to die with it. May you live happy, may the fearful suffering
+that you have caused me never be expiated. I would have it so; society
+punishes murder of the body, heaven punishes murders of the soul. May
+your hidden assassination escape Divine vengeance as long as possible.</p>
+
+<p>Farewell, Louise, farewell.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXVIII'></a><h2>XXVIII.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, July 27th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Valentine, I am very uneasy. Why have I not heard from you for a month?
+Are you in any trouble? Is one of your dear children ill? Are you no
+longer at Grenoble? Have you taken your trip without me? The last would
+be the most acceptable reason for your silence. You have not received my
+letters, and ignorance of my sorrows accounts for your not writing to
+console me. Yet never have I been in greater need of the offices of
+friendship. The resolution I have just taken fills me with alarm. I
+acted against my judgment, but I could not do otherwise. I was
+influenced by an agonized mother, whose hallowed grief persuaded me
+against my will to espouse her interests. Why have I not a friend here
+to interpose in my behalf and save me from myself? But, after all, does
+it make any difference what becomes of me? Hope is dead within me. I no
+longer dream of happiness. At last the sad mystery is explained.... M.
+de Villiers is not free; he is engaged to his cousin.... Oh, he does not
+love her, I am sure, but he is a slave to his plighted troth, and of
+course she loves him and will not release him ... Can he, for a
+stranger, sacrifice family ties and a love dating from his childhood?
+Ah! if he really loved me, he would have had the courage to make this
+sacrifice; but he only felt a tender sympathy for me, lively enough to
+fill him with everlasting regret, not strong enough to inspire him with
+a painful resolution. Thus two beings created for each other meet for a
+moment, recognise one another, and then, unwillingly, separate, carrying
+in their different paths of life a burden of eternal regrets! And they
+languish apart in their separate spheres, unhappy and attached to
+nothing but the memory of the past&mdash;made wretched for life by the
+accidents of a day!</p>
+
+<p>They are as the passengers of different ships, meeting for an hour in
+the same port, who hastily exchange a few words of sympathy, then pass
+away to other latitudes, under other skies&mdash;some to the North, others to
+the South, to the land of ice&mdash;to the cradle of the sun&mdash;far, far away
+from each other, to die. Is it then true that I shall never see him
+again? Oh, my God! how I loved him! I can never forgive him for not
+accepting this love that I was ready to lavish upon him.</p>
+
+<p>I will now tell you what I have resolved to do. If I waver a moment I
+shall not have the courage to keep my promise. Madame de Meilhan is
+coming after me; I could not, after causing her such sorrow, resist the
+tears of this unhappy mother. She was in despair; her son had suddenly
+left her, and in spite of the secrecy of his movements, she discovered
+that he was at Havre and had taken passage there for America, on the
+steamer Ontario. She hoped to reach Havre in time to see her son, and
+she relied upon me to bring him home. I am distressed at causing her so
+much uneasiness, but what can I say to console her? I will at best be
+generous; Edgar's sorrow is like my own; as he suffers for me, I suffer
+for another; I cannot see his anguish, so like my own, without profound
+pity; this pity will doubtless inspire me with eloquence enough to
+persuade him to remain in France and not break his mother's heart by
+desertion. Besides, I have promised, and Madame de Meilhan relies upon
+me. How beautiful is maternal love! It crushes the loftiest pride, it
+overthrows with one cry the most ambitious plans; this haughty woman is
+subjugated by grief; she calls me her daughter; she gladly consents to
+this marriage which, a short time ago, she said would ruin her son's
+prospects, and which she looked upon with horror; she weeps, she
+supplicates. This morning she embraced me with every expression of
+devotion and cried out: &quot;Give me back my son! Oh, restore to me my
+son!... You love him, ... he loves you, ... he is handsome, charming,
+talented.... I shall never see him again if you let him go away; tell
+him you love him; have you the cruelty to deprive me of my only son?&quot;
+What could I say? how could I make an idolizing mother understand that I
+did not love her son?... If I had dared to say, &quot;It is not he that I
+love, it is another,&quot; ... she would have said: &quot;It is false; there is
+not a man on earth preferable to my son.&quot; She wept over the letter that
+Edgar wrote me before leaving. Valentine, this letter was noble and
+touching. I could not restrain my own tears when I read it. Finally, I
+was forced to yield. I am to accompany Madame de Meilhan to Havre; I
+hope we will reach there before the steamer leaves!... Edgar will not go
+to America, ... and I!... Oh, why is he the one to love me thus?... She
+has come for me! Adieu; write to me, my dear Valentine, ... I am so
+miserable. If you were only here! What will become of me? Adieu!</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXIX'></a><h2>XXIX.</h2>
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+Paris, Aug. 2d 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>It is fortunate for me to-day, my dear Valentine, that I have the
+reputation of being a truthful person, professing a hatred of falsehood,
+otherwise you would not believe the strange facts that I am about to
+relate to you. I now expect to reap the fruits of my unvarying
+sincerity. Having always shown such respect for truth, I deserve to be
+believed when I assert what appears to be incredible.</p>
+
+<p>What startling events have occurred in a few hours! My destiny has been
+changed by my peeping through a hole!! Without one word of comment I
+will state exactly what happened, and you must not accuse me of highly
+coloring my pictures; they are lively enough in themselves without any
+assistance from me. Far from adding to their brilliancy, I shall
+endeavor to tone them down and give them an air of probability. We left
+Pont de l'Arche the other day with sad and anxious hearts; during the
+journey Mad. de Meilhan, as if doubting the strength of my resolution
+and the ardor of my devotion, dilated enthusiastically upon the merits
+of her son. She boasted of his generosity, of his disinterestedness and
+sincerity; she mentioned the names of several wealthy young ladies whom
+he had refused to marry during the last two or three years. She spoke of
+his great success as a poet and a brilliant man. She impressed upon me
+that a noble love could exercise such a happy influence upon his genius,
+and said it was in my power to make him a good and happy man for life,
+by accepting this love, which she described to me in such touching
+language, that I felt moved and impressed, if not with love, at least
+with tender appreciation. She said Edgar had never loved any one as he
+had loved me&mdash;this passion had changed all his ideas&mdash;he lived for me
+alone. To indure him to listen to any one it was necessary to bring my
+name in the conversation so as to secure his ear; he spent his days and
+nights composing poems in my honor. He should have returned to Paris in
+response to the beautiful Marquise de R.'s sighs and smiles, but he
+never had the courage to leave me; for me he had pitilessly sacrificed
+this woman, who was lovely, witty and the reigning belle of Paris. She
+mournfully told me of the wild foolish things he would do upon his
+return to Richeport, after having made fruitless attempts to see me at
+Pont de l'Arche; his cruelty to his favorite horse, his violence against
+the flowers along the path, that he would cut to pieces with his whip;
+his sullen, mute despair; his extravagant talk to her; her own
+uneasiness; her useless prayers; and finally this fatal departure that
+she had vainly endeavored to prevent. She saw that I was affected by
+what she said, she seized my hand and called down blessing's upon me,
+thanking me a thousand times passionately and imperiously, as if to
+compel me to accede to her wishes.</p>
+
+<p>I sorrowfully reflected upon all this trouble that I had caused, and was
+frightened at the conviction that I had by a few engaging smiles and a
+little harmless coquetry inspired so violent a passion. Thinking thus, I
+did justice to Edgar, and acknowledged that some reparation was due to
+him. He must have taken all these deceptive smiles to himself; when I
+first arrived at Pont de l'Arche, I had no scruples about being
+attractive, I expected to leave in a few days never to return again.
+Since then I had without pity refused his love, it is true; but could he
+believe this proud disdain to be genuine, when, after this decisive
+explanation, he found me tranquilly established at his mother's house?
+And there could he follow the different caprices of my mind, divine
+those temptations of generosity which first moved me in his favor, and
+then discover this wild love that was suddenly born in my soul for a
+phantom that I had only seen for a few hours?.... Had he not, on the
+contrary, a right to believe that I loved him, and to exclaim against
+the infamy, cruelty and perfidy of my refusing to see him, and my
+endeavors to convince him that I cared nothing for him? He was right to
+accuse me, for appearances were all against me&mdash;my own conduct condemned
+me. I must acknowledge myself culpable, and submit to the sentence that
+has been pronounced against me. I resigned myself sadly to repair the
+wrong I had committed. One hope still remained to me: Edgar brought back
+by me would be restored to his mother, but Edgar would cease to love me
+when he knew my real name. There is a difference between loving an
+adventuress, whose affections can be trifled with, and loving a woman of
+high birth and position, who must be honorably sought in marriage. Edgar
+has an invincible repugnance to matrimony; he considers this august
+institution as a monstrous inconvenience, very immoral, a profane
+revelation of the most sacred secrets of life; he calls it a public
+exhibition of affection; he says no one has a right to proclaim his
+preference for one woman. To call a woman: my wife! what revolting
+indiscretion! To call children: my children! what disgusting fatuity! In
+his eyes nothing is more horrible than a husband driving in the Champs
+Elys&eacute;es with his family, which is tantamount to telling the passers-by:
+This woman seated by my side is the one I have chosen among all women,
+and to whom I am indebted for all pleasure in life; and this little girl
+who resembles her so much, and this little boy, the image of me, are the
+bonds of love between us. The Orientals, he added, whom we call
+barbarians, are more modest than we; they shut up their wives; they
+never appear in public with them, they never let any one see the objects
+of their tenderness, and they introduce young men of twenty, not as
+their sons, but as the heirs of their names and fortunes.</p>
+
+<p>Recalling these remarkable sentiments of M. de Meilhan, I said to
+myself: he will never marry. But Mad. de Meilhan, who was aware of her
+son's peculiar thoeries, assured me that they were very much modified,
+and that one day in speaking of me, he had angrily exclaimed: &quot;Oh! I
+wish I were her husband, so I could shut her up, and prevent any one
+seeing her!&quot; Now I understand why a man marries! This was not very
+reassuring, but I devoted myself like a victim, and for a victim there
+is no half sacrifice. Generosity, like cruelty, is absolute.</p>
+
+<p>After a night of anxious travel, we reached Havre at about ten in the
+morning. We drove rapidly to the office of the American steamers. Madame
+de Meilhan rushed frantically about until she found the sleepy clerk,
+who told her that M. de Meilhan had taken passage on the <i>Ontario</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When does this vessel leave?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot tell you,&quot; said the gaping clerk.</p>
+
+<p>We ran to the pier and tremblingly asked: &quot;Can you tell us if the
+American vessel <i>Ontario</i> sails to-day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old sailor replied to us in nautical language which we could not
+understand. Another man said: &quot;The <i>Ontario</i> is pretty far out by this
+time!&quot; We ran to the other end of the pier and found a crowd of people
+watching a cloud that was gradually disappearing in the distance. &quot;I see
+nothing now,&quot; said one of the people. But I saw a little ... little
+smoke ... and I could distinctly see a flag with a large O on it....
+Madame de Meilhan, pale and breathless, had not the strength to ask the
+name of the fatal vessel that was almost out of sight ... I could only
+gasp out the word &quot;<i>Ontario?&quot;</i> ...</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Precisely so, madame, but don't be uneasy ... it is a fast vessel, and
+your friends will land in America before two weeks are passed. You look
+astonished, but it is the truth, the <i>Ontario</i> is never behind time!&quot;
+Madame de Meilhan fell fainting in my arms. She was lifted to our
+carriage and soon restored to consciousness, but was so overcome that
+she seemed incapable of comprehending the extent of her misfortune. We
+drove to the nearest hotel, and I remained in her room silently weeping
+and reproaching myself for having destroyed the happiness of this
+family.</p>
+
+<p>During these first moments of stupor Madame de Meilhan showed no
+indignation at my presence; but no sooner had she recovered the use of
+her senses than she burst into a storm of abuse; calling me a detestable
+intriguer, a low adventuress who, by my stage tricks, had turned the
+head of her noble son; I would be the cause of his death&mdash;that fatal
+country would never give back her son; what a pity to see so superior a
+man, a pride and credit to his country, perish, succumb, to the snares
+of an obscure prude, who had not the sense to be his mistress, who was
+incapable of loving him for a single day; an ambitious schemer, who had
+determined to entrap him into marriage, but unhesitatingly sacrificed
+him to M. de Villiers as soon as she found M. de Villiers was the richer
+of the two, ... and many other flattering accusations she made, that
+were equally ill-deserved. I quietly listened to all this abuse, and
+went on preparing a glass of <i>eau sucr&eacute;e</i> for the poor weeping fury,
+whose conduct inspired me with generous pity. When she had finished her
+tirade, I silently handed her the orange water to calm her anger, and I
+looked at her ... my look expressed such firm gentle pride, such
+generous indulgence, such invulnerable dignity, that she felt herself
+completely disarmed. She took my hand and said, as she dried her tears:
+&quot;You must forgive me, I am <i>so</i> unhappy!&quot; Then I tried to console her; I
+told her I would write to her son, and she would soon have him back, as
+my letter would reach New York by the time he landed, and then it would
+only take him two weeks to return. This promise calmed her; then I
+persuaded her to lie down and recover from the fatigue of travelling all
+night. When I saw her poor swollen eyelids fairly closed, I left her to
+enjoy her slumbers and retired to my own room. I rested awhile and then
+rang to order preparations for our departure; but instead of the servant
+answering the bell, a pretty little girl, about eight years old, entered
+my room; upon seeing me she drew back frightened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you want, my child?&quot; I said, drawing her within the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing, madame,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you must have come here for something?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not know that madame was in her room.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What did you come to do in here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I came, as I did yesterday, to see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To see what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In there ... the Turks ...&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Turks? What! am I surrounded by Turks?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh! they are not in the little room adjoining yours; but through this
+little room you can look into the large saloon where they all stay and
+have music ... will madame permit me to pass through?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Which way?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This way. There is a little door behind this toilet-table; I open it,
+go in, get up on the table and look at the Turks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The child rolled aside the toilet-table, entered the little room, and in
+a few minutes came running back to me and exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh! they are so beautiful! does not madame wish to see them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In a short time she returned again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The musicians are all asleep,&quot; she said ... &quot;but, madame, the Turks are
+crazy&mdash;they don't sleep&mdash;they don't speak&mdash;they make horrible
+faces&mdash;they roll their eyes&mdash;they have such funny ways&mdash;one of them
+looks like my uncle when he has the fever&mdash;Oh! that one must be crazy,
+madame&mdash; ... look, he is going to dance! now he is going to die!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The absurd prattle of the child finally aroused my curiosity. I went
+into the little room, and, mounting the table beside her, looked through
+a crevice in the wooden partition and clearly saw everything in the
+large saloon. It was hung up to a certain height with rich Turkish
+stuffs. The floor was covered by a superb Smyrna carpet. In one recess
+of the room the musicians were sleeping with their bizarre musical
+instruments tightly clasped in their arms. A dozen Turks, magnificently
+dressed, were seated on the soft carpet in Oriental fashion, that is to
+say, after the manner of tailors. They were supported by piles of
+cushions of all sizes and shapes, and seemed to be plunged in ecstatic
+oblivion.</p>
+
+<p>One of these dreamy sons of Aurora attracted my attention by his
+brilliant costume and flashing arms. By the pale light of the exhausted
+lamps and the faint rays of dawning day, almost obscured by the heavy
+drapery of the windows, I could scarcely distinguish the features of
+this splendid Mussulman, at the same time I thought I had seen him
+before. I had seen but few pachas during my life, but I certainly had
+met this one somewhere, I looked attentively and saw that his hands were
+whiter than those of his compatriots&mdash;this was a suspicious fact. After
+closely watching this doubtful infidel, this amateur barbarian, I began
+to suspect civilization and Europeanism.... One of the musicians asleep
+near the window, turned over and his long guitar&mdash;a <i>guzla</i>, I think it
+is called&mdash;caught in the curtain and drew it a little open; the sunlight
+streamed in the room and an accusing ray fell upon the face of the
+spurious young Turk.... It was Edgar de Meilhan! A little cup filled
+with a greenish conserve rested on a cushion near by. I remembered that
+he had often spoken to me of the wonderful effects of hashish, and of
+the violent desire he had of experiencing this fascinating stupefaction;
+he had also told me of one of his college friends who had been living in
+Smyrna for some years; an original, who had taken upon himself the
+mission of re-barbarizing the East. This friend had sent him a number of
+Indian poinards and Turkish pipes, and had promised him some tobacco and
+hashish. This modern and amateur Turk was named Arthur Granson.... I
+asked the innkeeper's little daughter if she knew the name of the man
+who had hired the saloon? She said yes, that he was named Monsieur
+Granson.... This name and this meeting explained everything.</p>
+
+<p>O Valentine! I will be sincere to the end, ... and confess that Edgar
+was wonderfully handsome in this costume!... the magnificent oriental
+stuff, the Turkish vest, embroidered in gold and silver, the yatagans,
+pistols and poinards studded with jewels, the turban draped with
+inimitable art&mdash;all these things gave him a majestic, superb, imposing
+aspect!... which at first astonished me, ... for we are all children
+when we first see beautiful objects, ... but he had a stupid look....
+No, never did a sultan of the opera, throwing his handkerchief to his
+bayad&egrave;re ... a German prince of the gymnasium complimented by his
+court&mdash;a provincial Bajazet listening to the threatening declarations of
+Roxana&mdash;never did they display in the awkwardness of their r&ocirc;les, in the
+stiffness of their movements, an attitude more absurdly ridiculous, an
+expression of countenance more ideally stupid. It is difficult to
+comprehend how a brilliant mind could so completely absent itself from
+its dwelling-place without leaving on the face it was wont to animate, a
+single trace, a faint ray of intelligence! Edgar had his eyes raised to
+the ceiling, ... and for an instant I think I caught his look, ... but
+Heavens! what a look! May I never meet such another! I shall add one
+more incident to my recital&mdash;important in itself but distasteful to me
+to relate&mdash;I will tell it in as few words as possible: Edgar was leaning
+on two piles of cushions; he seemed to be absorbed in the contemplation
+of invisible stars; he was awake, but a beautiful African slave, dressed
+like an Indian queen, was sleeping at his feet!</p>
+
+<p>This strange spectacle filled my heart with joy. Instead of being
+indignant, I was delighted at this insult to myself. Edgar evidently
+forgot me, and truly he had a right to forget me; I was not engaged to
+him as I had been to Roger. A young poet has a right to dress like a
+Turk, and amuse himself with his friends, to suit his own fancy; but a
+noble prince has no right to scandalize the public when the dignity of
+his rank has to be striven after and recovered; when the glory of his
+name is to be kept untarnished. Oh! this disgusting sight gave rise to
+no angry feeling in my bosom, I at once comprehended the advantages of
+the situation. No more sacrifice, no more remorse, no more hypocrisy! I
+was free; my future was restored to me. Oh, the good Edgar! Oh, the dear
+poet! How I loved him ... for not loving me!!</p>
+
+<p>I told the little girl to run quickly and bring me a servant. When the
+man came I handed him six louis to sharpen his wits, and then solemnly
+gave him my orders: &quot;When they ring for you in that saloon, do you tell
+that young Turk with a red vest on ... you will remember him?&quot; &quot;Yes,
+madame.&quot; &quot;You will tell him that the countess his mother is waiting here
+for him, in room No. 7, at the end of the corridor.&quot; &quot;Ah! the lady who
+was weeping so bitterly?&quot; &quot;The same one.&quot; &quot;Madame may rely upon me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I then paid my bill, and, inquiring the quickest way of leaving Havre, I
+fled from the hotel. Walking along Grande Rue de Paris, I saw with
+pleasure that the city was filled with strangers, who had come to take
+part in the festivities that were taking place at Havre, and that I
+could easily mingle in this great crowd and leave the town without being
+observed. Uneasy and agitated, I hurried along, and just as I was
+passing the theatre I heard some one call me. Imagine my alarm when I
+distinctly heard some one call: &quot;Mlle. Irene! Mlle. Irene!&quot; I was so
+frightened that I could scarcely move. The call was repeated, and I saw
+my faithful Blanchard rushing towards me, breathless and then I
+recognised the supplicating voice ... I turned around and weeping, she
+exclaimed: &quot;I know everything, Mlle., you are going to America! Take me
+with you. This is the first time I have ever been separated from you
+since your birth!&quot; I had left the poor woman at Pont de l'Arche, and
+she, thinking I was going to America, had followed me. &quot;Be quiet and
+follow me,&quot; said I, forgetting to tell her that I was not going to
+America. I reached the wharf and jumped into a boat; the unhappy
+Blanchard, who is a hydrophobe, followed me. &quot;You are afraid?&quot; said I.
+&quot;Oh, no, Mlle., I am afraid on the Seine, but at sea it is quite a
+different thing.&quot; The touching delicacy of this ingenious conceit moved
+me to tears. Wishing to shorten the agony of this devoted friend, I told
+the oarsman to row us into the nearest port, instead of going further by
+water, as I had intended, in order to avoid the Rouen route and the
+Prince, the steamboat and M. de Meilhan. As soon as we landed I sent my
+faithful companion to the nearest village to hire a carriage, &quot;I must be
+in Paris, to-morrow,&quot; said I. &quot;Then we are not going to America?&quot; &quot;No.&quot;
+&quot;So much the better,&quot; said she, as she trotted off in high glee to look
+for a carriage. I remained alone, gazing at the ocean. Oh! how I enjoyed
+the sight! How I would love to live on this charming, terrible azure
+desert! I was so absorbed in admiration that I soon forgot my worldly
+troubles and the rain tribulations of my obscure life. I was intoxicated
+by its wild perfume, its free, invigorating air! I breathed for the
+first time! With what delight I let the sea-breeze blow my hair about my
+burning brow! How I loved to gaze on its boundless horizon! How
+much&mdash;laugh at my vanity&mdash;how much I felt at home in this immensity! I
+am not one of those modest souls that are oppressed and humiliated by
+the grandeur of Nature; I only feel in harmony with the sublime, not
+through myself, but through the aspirations of my mind. I never feel as
+if there was around me, above me, before me, too much air, too much
+height, too much space. I like the boundless, luminous horizon to render
+solitude and liberty invisible to my eyes.</p>
+
+<p>I know not if every one else is impressed as I was upon seeing the ocean
+for the first time. I felt released from all ties, purified of all
+hatred, and even of all earthly love; I was freed, calm, strong, armed,
+ready to brave all the evils of life, like a being who had received from
+God a right to disdain the world. The ocean and the sky have this good
+effect upon us&mdash;they wean us from worldly pleasures.</p>
+
+<p>Upon reaching Paris, I went at once to your father's to inquire about
+you, and had my uneasiness about you set at rest. You must have left
+Geneva by this time; I hope soon to receive a letter from you. I am not
+staying with my cousin. I am living in my dear little garret. I wish a
+long time to elapse before I again become Mlle. de Chateaudun. I wish
+time to recover from the rude shocks I have had. What do you think of my
+last experience? What a perfect success was my theory of discouragement!
+Alas! too perfect. First trial: Western despair and champagne! Second
+trial: Eastern despair and hashisch!&mdash;Not to speak of the consolatory
+accessories, snowy-armed beauties and ebony-armed slaves! I would be
+very unsophisticated indeed if I did not consider myself sufficiently
+enlightened. I implore you not to speak to me of your hero whom you wish
+me to marry; I am determined never to marry. I shall love an image,
+cherish a star. The little light has returned. I see it shining as I
+write to you. Yes, these poetic loves are all-sufficient for my wounded
+soul. One thing disturbs me; they have cut down the large trees in front
+of my window. To-morrow, perhaps, I shall at last see the being that
+dwells in this fraternal garret.... Valentine&mdash;suppose it should be my
+long-sought ideal!... I tremble! perhaps a third disenchantment awaits
+me.... Good-night, my dear Valentine, I embrace you. I am very tired,
+but very happy ... it is so delightful to be relieved of all uneasiness,
+to feel that you are not compelled to console any one.</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXX'></a><h2>XXX.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+Poste Restante (Rouen).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, July 27th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>My dear Roger, at the risk of bringing down upon my head the ridicule
+merited by men who fire a pistol above their heads after having left on
+their table the night before the most thrilling adieux to the world, I
+must confess that I have not gone; you have a perfect right to drive me
+out of Europe; I promised to go to America, and you can compel me to
+fulfil my promise; be clement, do not overpower me with ridicule; do not
+riddle me with the fire of your mocking artillery; my sorrow, even
+though I remain in the old world, is none the less crushing.</p>
+
+<p>I must tell you how it all happened.</p>
+
+<p>As all my life I have never been able to comprehend the division of
+time, and it's a toss-up whether I distinguish day from night, I turned
+my back on the best hotel in Havre, and stopped at one nearest the
+wharf, from whence I could see the smoke-stacks of the Ontario, about to
+sail for New York. I was leaning on the balcony, in the melancholy
+attitude of Raphael's portrait, gazing at the swell of the ocean, with
+that feeling of infinite sadness which the strongest heart must yield to
+in the presence of that immensity formed of drops of bitter water, like
+human tears. I followed, listlessly, with my eyes the movements of a
+strange group which had just landed from the Portsmouth packet. They
+were richly-dressed Orientals, followed by negro servants and women
+enveloped in long veils.</p>
+
+<p>One of these Turks looked up as he passed under my window, saw me, and
+exclaimed in very correct French, with a decided Parisian accent: &quot;Why,
+it's Edgar de Meilhan!&quot; and, regardless of Oriental dignity, he dashed
+into the inn, bounded into my room, rubbed my face against his crisp
+black beard, punched me in the stomach with the carved hilts of a
+complete collection of yataghans and kandjars, and finally said, seeing
+my uncertainty: &quot;Why! don't you know me, your old college chum, your
+playmate in childhood, Arthur Granson! Does my turban make such a change
+in me? So much the better! Or are you mean enough to stick to the letter
+of the proverb which pretends that friends are not Turks? By Allah and
+his prophet Mahomet, I shall prove to you that Turks are friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>During this flood of words I had in truth recognised Arthur Granson, a
+good and odd young fellow, whom I am very fond of, and who would surely
+please you, for he is the most paradoxical youth to be found in the five
+divisions of the globe. And, what is very rare, he acts out his
+paradoxes, a whim which his great independence of character and above
+all a large fortune permit him to indulge, for gold is liberty; the only
+slaves are the poor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This much is settled, I will install myself here with my living palette
+of local colors;&quot; and without giving me time to answer him, he left me
+to give the necessary orders for lodging his suite.</p>
+
+<p>When he returned, I said to him: &quot;What does this strange masquerade
+mean? The carnival has been over for some time, and will not return
+immediately, as we are hardly through the summer.&quot; &quot;It is not a
+masquerade,&quot; replied Arthur, with a dogmatic coolness and transcendental
+gravity which at any other time would have made me laugh. &quot;It is a
+complete system, which I shall unfold to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon my friend, taking off his Turkish slippers, crossed his legs
+on the divan in the approved classic attitude of the Osmanli, and
+running his fingers through his beard, spoke as follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;During my travels I have observed that no people appreciate the
+peculiar beauties of the country they inhabit. No one admires his own
+physiognomy; every one would like to resemble some one else. Spaniards
+and Turks make endless excuses for being handsome and picturesque. The
+Andalusian apologizes to you for not wearing a coat and round hat. The
+Arnaout, whose costume is the most gorgeous and elegant that has ever
+been worn by the human form divine, sighs as he gazes at your overcoat,
+and consults with himself upon the advisability of shooting you to get
+possession of it, in the first mountain gorge where he may meet you
+alone or poorly attended. Civilization is the natural enemy of beauty.
+All its creations are ugly. Barbarism&mdash;or rather relative barbarism&mdash;has
+found the secret of form and color. Man living so near to Nature
+imitates her harmony, and finds the types of his garments and his
+utensils in his surroundings. Mathematics have not yet developed their
+straight lines, dry angles and painful aridity. Now-a-days, picturesque
+traditions are lost, the long pantaloon has invaded the universe;
+frightful fashion-plates circulate everywhere; now, I refuse to believe
+that man's taste has become perverted to such a degree that if he were
+shown costumes combining elegance with richness, he would not prefer
+them to hideous modern rags. Having made these judicious and profound
+reflections, I felt as if I had been enlightened from above, and the
+secret of my earthly mission revealed to me; I had come into the world
+to preach costume, and, as you see, I preach it by example. Reflecting
+that Turkey is the country most menaced by the overcoat and stove-pipe
+hat, I went to Constantinople to bring about a reaction in favor of the
+embroidered vest and the turban. My grave studies upon the subject, my
+fortune and my taste have enabled me to attain the <i>ne plus ultra</i> of
+style.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I doubt whether a Sultan ever possessed so splendid or so
+characteristic a wardrobe. I discovered among the bazaars of the cities
+least infected by the modern spirit, some tailors with a profound
+contempt for Frank fashions, who, with their tremulous hands, performed
+marvels of cutting and embroidery. I will show you caftans braided in a
+miserable little out-of-the-way village of Asia Minor, by some poor
+devils whom you would not trust with your dog, which surpass, in
+intricacy of design, the purest arabesques of the Alhambra, and in
+color, the most gorgeous peacock tails of Eugene Delacroix or Narciso
+Ruy Diaz de la Pena, a great painter, who out of commiseration for the
+commonalty only makes use of a quarter of his name.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am happy to say that my apostleship has not been without fruit. I
+have brought back to the dolman more than one young Osmanli about to rig
+himself out at Buisson's; I have saved more than one horse of the Nedji
+race from the insult of an English saddle; more than one tipsy Turk
+addicted to champagne has returned to opium at my suggestion. Some
+Georgians who were about to be admitted to the balls of the European
+embassies are indebted to me for being shut up closer than ever. I
+impressed upon these degenerate Orientals the disastrous results of such
+a breach of propriety. I persuaded the Sultan Abdul Medjid to give up
+the idea of introducing the guillotine into his empire. Without
+flattering myself, I think I have done a great deal of good, and if
+there were only a few more gay fellows like myself we should prevent
+people from making guys of themselves&mdash;And what are you doing, my dear
+Edgar?&quot; &quot;I am going to America, and I am waiting for the Ontario to get
+up steam,&quot; &quot;That's a good idea! You can become a savage and resuscitate
+the last Mohican of Fenimore Cooper. I already see you, with a blue
+turtle on your breast, eagle's feathers in your scalp, and moccasins
+worked with porcupine quills. You will be very handsome; with your sad
+air you will look as if you were weeping over your dead race. If I had
+not been away for four years, I would accompany you, but I was in such a
+hurry to put my affairs in order, that I have returned to France by way
+of England, in order to avoid the quarantine. I will admit you to my
+religion; you shall become my disciple; I preserve barbaric costumes,
+you shall preserve savage costumes. It is not so handsome, but it is
+more characteristic. There were some Indians on our steamer; I studied
+them; they are the people to suit you. But, before your departure, we
+will indulge in an Eastern orgie in the purest style.&quot; &quot;My dear Granson,
+I am not in a humor to take part in an orgie, even though it be an
+Eastern orgie; I am desperately sad.&quot; &quot;Very well; I see that you are;
+some heart sorrow; you Occidentals are always in a state of torment
+about some woman; which would never occur if they were all shut up; it
+is dangerous to let such animals wander about. I am delighted that you
+are so sad and melancholy. I can now prove to you the superior efficacy
+of my exhilarating means. I found at Cairo, in the Teriaki Square,
+opposite the hospital for the insane&mdash;wasn't it a profoundly
+philosophical idea to establish in such a place dealers in
+happiness?&mdash;an old scamp, dry as a papyrus of the time of Amenoteph,
+shrivelled as the beards of the Pschent of the goddess Isis; this
+cabalistic druggist possessed the true receipt for the preparation of
+hashisch; besides, he seemed old enough to have gotten it direct from
+the Old Man of the Mountain, if he were not himself the Prince of
+Assassins who lived in the time of Saint Louis; this skeleton in a
+parchment case furnished me with a quantity of paradise, under the guise
+of green paste, in little Japanese cups done up in silver wire. I intend
+to initiate you into these hypercelestial delights. I shall give you a
+box of happiness, which will make you forget all the false coquettes in
+the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Without listening to my repeated refusals, Granson begged me to call him
+henceforth Sidi-Mahmoud; had his room spread with Persian rugs, ottomans
+piled up in every direction, the walls cushioned to lean against, and
+perfumes scattered about; three or four dusky musicians placed
+themselves in a convenient recess with taraboucks, rebeks and guzlas&mdash;an
+Ethiopean, naked to the waist, served us the precious drug on a red
+lacquered waiter.</p>
+
+<p>To accommodate Granson I swallowed several spoonfuls of this greenish
+confection, which, at first, seemed to be flavored with honey and
+pistachio. I had dressed myself&mdash;for Granson is one of those obstinate
+idiots that one is compelled to yield to in order to get rid of&mdash;in an
+Anatolian costume of fabulous richness, my friend insisting that when
+one ascends to Paradise he should not be annoyed by the slope of his
+sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments I felt a slight warmth in my stomach&mdash;my body threw off
+sparks and flared up like a bank-bill in the flame of a candle; I was
+subject to no law of nature; weight, bulk, opacity had entirely
+disappeared. I retained my form, but it became transparent; flexible,
+fluid objects passed through me without inconveniencing me in the least;
+I could enlarge or decrease myself to suit any place I wished to occupy.
+I could transport myself at will from one place to another. I was in an
+impossible world, lighted by a gleam of azure grotto, in the centre of a
+bouquet of fire-works formed of everchanging sheafs, luminous flowers
+with gold and silver foliage, and calices of rubies, sapphires and
+diamonds; fountains of melted moonbeams, throwing their spray over
+crystal vases, which sang with voices like a harmonica the arias of the
+greatest singers. A symphony of perfumes followed this first
+enchantment, which vanished in a shower of spangles at the end of a few
+seconds; the theme was a faint odor of iris and acacia bloom which
+pursued, avoided, crossed and embraced each other with delicious ease
+and grace. If anything in this world can give you an approximative idea
+of this exquisitely perfumed movement, it is the dance for the piccolos
+in the Alm&eacute;e of Felicien David.</p>
+
+<p>As the movement increased in sweetness and charm, the two perfumes took
+the shape of the flowers from which they emanated; two irises and two
+bunches of acacia bloomed in a marvellously transparent onyx vase; soon
+the irises scintillated like two blue stars, the acacia flowers
+dissolved into a golden stream, the onyx vase assumed a female shape,
+and I recognised the lovely face and graceful form of Louise Gu&eacute;rin, but
+idealized, passed to the state of Beatrice; I am not certain that there
+did not rise from her white shoulders a pair of angel's wings&mdash;she gazed
+so sadly and kindly at me that I felt my eyes fill with tears&mdash;she
+seemed to regret being in heaven; from the expression of her face one
+might have thought that she accused me, and at the same time entreated
+my forgiveness.</p>
+
+<p>I will not take you through the various windings of this marvellous
+open-eyed dream; the monotonous harmony of the tarabouck and the rebek
+faintly reached my ear, and served as rhythm to this wonderful poem,
+which will, henceforth, make Homer, Virgil, Ariosto and Tasso as
+wearisome to read as a table of logarithms. All my senses had changed
+places; I saw music and heard colors; I had new perceptions, as the
+denizens of a planet superior to ours must have; at will, my body was
+composed of a ray, a perfume or a sweet savor; I experienced the ecstasy
+of the angels fused in divine light, for the effect of hashisch bears no
+resemblance whatever to that of wine and alcohol, by the use of which
+the people of the North debase and stupefy themselves; its intoxication
+is purely intellectual.</p>
+
+<p>Little by little order was established in my brain. I began to observe
+objects around me.</p>
+
+<p>The candles had burned down to the socket; the musicians slept, tenderly
+embracing their instruments. The handsome negress lay at my feet. I had
+taken her for a cushion. A pale ray of light appeared on the horizon; it
+was three o'clock in the morning. All at once a smoke-stack, puffing
+forth black smoke, crossed the bar; it was the <i>Ontario</i> leaving its
+moorings.</p>
+
+<p>A confusion of voices was heard in the next room; my mother, having in
+some way learnt of my projected exile, had broken through Granson's
+orders to admit no one, and was calling for me.</p>
+
+<p>I was rather mortified at being caught in such an absurd dress; but my
+mother observed nothing; she had but one thought, that I was about to
+leave her for ever. I do not remember what she said, such things cannot
+be written, the endearments she bestowed upon me when I was only five or
+six years old; finally she wept. I promised to stay and return to Paris.
+How can you refuse your mother anything when she weeps? Is she not the
+only woman whom we can never reproach?</p>
+
+<p>After all, as you have said, Paris is the wildest desert; there you are
+completely alone. Indifferent and unknown people may value sands and
+swamps.</p>
+
+<p>If my sorrow prove too tenacious, I shall ask my friend Arthur Granson
+for the address of the old Teriaki, and I shall send to Cairo for some
+boxes of forgetfulness. We will share them together if you wish.
+Farewell, dear Roger, I am yours mind and heart,</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>XXXI.</p>
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, July 30th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>O day of bliss unutterable! I have found her, it is she! As you have
+opened your heart to my sadness, madame, open it to my joy. Forget the
+unhappy wretch who, a few days ago, abandoned himself to his grief, who
+even yesterday bade an eternal farewell to hope. That unfortunate has
+ceased to exist; in his place appears a young being intoxicated with
+love, for whom life is full of delight and enchantment. How does it
+happen that my soul, which should soar on hymns of joy, is filled with
+gloomy forebodings? Is it because man is not made for great felicity, or
+that happiness is naturally sad, nearer akin to tears than to laughter,
+because it feels its fragility and instinctively dreads the approaching
+expiation?</p>
+
+<p>After having vainly searched for Mademoiselle de Chateaudun within the
+walls of Rouen, M. de Monbert decided, on receipt of some new
+information, to seek her among the old ch&acirc;teaux of Brittany. My sorrow,
+feeding upon itself, counselled me not to accompany him. The fact is
+that I could be of no earthly use in his search. Besides, I thought I
+perceived that my presence embarrassed him. To tell the truth, we were a
+constraint upon each other. Every sorrowful heart willingly believes
+itself the centre of the universe, and will not admit the existence,
+under heaven, of any other grief than its own. I let the Prince depart,
+and set out alone for Paris. One last hope remained; I persuaded myself
+that if Louise had not loved M. de Meilhan she would have left Richeport
+at the same time that I did.</p>
+
+<p>I got out at Pont de l'Arche, and prowled like a felon about the scenes
+where happiness had come to me.</p>
+
+<p>I wandered about for an hour, when I saw the letter-carrier coming to
+the post-office for the letters to be delivered at the neighboring
+ch&acirc;teaux. Paler and more tremulous than the silvery foliage of the
+willows on the river shore, I questioned him and learned that Madame
+Gu&eacute;rin was still at Richeport. I went away with death in my heart; in
+the evening I reach Paris. Resolved to see no one in that city, and only
+intending to pass a few days in solitude and silence, I sought no other
+abode than the little room which I had occupied in less fortunate but
+happier times. I wished to resume my old manner of living; but I had no
+taste for anything. When one goes in pursuit of happiness, the way is
+smiling and alluring, hope brightens the horizon; when we have clutched
+it and then let it escape, everything becomes gloomy and disenchanted;
+for it is a traveller whom we do not meet twice upon our road. I tried
+to study, which only increased my weariness. What was the use of
+knowledge and wisdom? Life was a closed book to me. I tried the poets,
+who added to my sufferings, by translating them into their passionate
+language. Thus, reason is baffled by the graceful apparition of a lovely
+blonde, who glided across my existence like a gossamer over a clear sky,
+and banished repose for ever from my heart! My eyes had scarcely rested
+upon the angle of my dreams ere she took flight, leaving on my brow the
+shadow of her wings! She was only a child, and that child had passed
+over my destiny like a tempest! She rested for a moment in my life, like
+a bird upon a branch, and my life was broken! In fact I lost all control
+over myself. Young, free and rich, I was at a loss to know what to do.
+What was to become of me? Turn where I would, I still saw nothing around
+me but solitude and despair. During the day I mingled with the crowd and
+wandered about the streets like a lost soul; returning at night
+overcome, but not conquered by fatigue. Burning sleeplessness besieged
+my pillow, and the little light no longer shone to comfort and encourage
+me. I no longer heard, as before, a caressing voice speaking to me
+through the trees of the garden. &quot;Courage, friend! I watch and suffer
+with thee.&quot; Finally, one night I saw the star peep forth and shine.
+Although I had no heart for such fancies, still I felt young and joyous
+again, on seeing it. As before, I gazed at it a long time. Was it the
+same, that, for two years, I had seen burn and go out regularly at the
+same hour? It might be doubted; but I did not doubt it for a moment,
+because I took pleasure in believing it. I felt less isolated and gained
+confidence, now that my star had not deserted me. I called it my martyr
+when I spoke to it: &quot;Whence comest thou? Hast thou too suffered? Hast
+thou mourned my absence a little?&quot; And, as before, I thought it answered
+me in the silence of the night. Towards morning I slept, and in a dream,
+I saw, as through a glass, Louise watching and working in a room as poor
+as mine, by the light of the well-beloved ray. She looked pale and sad,
+and from time to time stopped her work to gaze at the gleam of my lamp.
+When I awoke, it was broad day; and I went out to kill time.</p>
+
+<p>On the boulevard I met an old friend of my father's; he was refined,
+cultivated and affectionate. He had come from our mountains, to which he
+was already anxious to return, for in their valleys he had buried
+himself. My dejected air and sorrowful countenance struck him. He gained
+my confidence, and immediately guessed at my complaint. &quot;What are you
+doing here?&quot; he asked; &quot;it is an unwholesome place for grief. Return to
+our mountains. Your native air will do you good. Come with me; I promise
+you that your unhappiness will not hold out against the perfume of broom
+and heather.&quot; Then he spoke with tender earnestness of my duties. He did
+not conceal from me the obligations my fortune and the position left me
+by my father, laid me under to the land where I was born; I had
+neglected it too long, and the time had now come when I ought to occupy
+myself seriously with its needs and interests. In short, he made me
+blush for my useless days, and led me, gently and firmly, back to
+reality. At night-fall I returned to my little chamber, not consoled but
+stronger, and decided to set out on the morrow for the banks of the
+Creuse. I did not expect to be cured, but it pleased me to mingle the
+thought of Louise with the benefits that I could bestow, and to bring
+down blessings upon the name which I had longed to offer her.</p>
+
+<p>I immediately remarked on entering, that my little beacon shone with
+unaccustomed brilliancy. It was no longer a thread of light gleaming
+timidly through the foliage, but a whole window brightly illuminated,
+and standing out against the surrounding darkness. Investigating the
+cause of this phenomenon, I discovered that, during the day, the trees
+had been felled in the garden, and peering out into the gloom, I
+perceived, stretched along the ground, the trunk of the pine which, for
+two years, had hid from me the room where burned the fraternal light.
+Before departing, I should at least catch a glimpse of the mysterious
+being, who, probably unconsciously, had occupied so many of my restless
+thoughts. I could not control a sad smile at the thought of the
+disenchantment that awaited me on the morrow. I passed in review the
+faces which were likely to appear at that window, and as the absurd is
+mixed with almost every situation in life, I declare that this
+bewildering question occurred to me: &quot;Suppose it should be Lady Penock?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I slept little, and arose at day-break. I was restless without daring to
+acknowledge to myself the cause. It would have mortified me to have to
+confess that there was room beside my grief for a childish curiosity, a
+poetical fancy. What is man's heart made of? He bemoans himself, wraps a
+cere-cloth around him and prepares to die, and a flitting bird or a
+shining light suffices to divert him. I watched the sun redden the
+house-tops. Paris still slept; no sound broke the stillness of the
+slumbering city, but the distant roll of the early carts over the
+stones. I looked long at the dear garret, which I saw for the first time
+in the eye of day. The window had neither shutter nor blind, but a
+double rose-colored curtain hung before it, mingling its tint with that
+of the rising sun. That window, with neither plants nor running vines to
+ornament it, had an air of refinement that charmed me. The house itself
+looked honest. I wrote several letters to shorten the slow hours which
+wearied my patience. Every shutter that opened startled me, and sent the
+blood quickly back to my heart. My reason revolted against suck
+childishness; but in spite of it, something within me refused to laugh
+at my folly.</p>
+
+<p>After some hours, I caught a glimpse of a hand furtively drawing aside
+the rose-colored curtains. That timid hand could only belong to a woman;
+a man would have drawn them back unceremoniously. She must, likewise, be
+a young woman; the shade of the curtains indicated it. Evidently, only a
+young woman would put pink curtains before a garret-window. Whereupon I
+recalled to mind the little room where I had bade adieu to Louise before
+leaving Richeport. I lived over again the scene in that poetic nook;
+again I saw Louise as she appeared to me at that last interview, pale,
+agitated, shedding silent tears which she did not attempt to conceal.</p>
+
+<p>At this remembrance my grief burst all bounds, and spent itself in
+imprecations against Edgar and against myself. I sat a long time, with
+my face buried in my hands, in mournful contemplation of an invisible
+image. Ah! unhappy man, I exclaimed, in my despair, why did you leave
+her? God offered you happiness and you refused it! She stood there,
+before you, trembling, desperate, her eyes bathed in tears, awaiting but
+one word to sink in your arms, and that word you refused to utter,
+cowardly fleeing from her! It is now your turn to weep, unfortunate
+wretch! Your life, which has but begun, is now ended, and you will not
+even have the supreme consolation of melancholy regrets, for the sting
+of remorse will for ever remain in your wound; you will be pursued to
+your dying day by the phantom of a felicity which you would not seize!</p>
+
+<p>When I raised my head, the garret-window had noiselessly opened, and
+there, standing motionless in a flood of sunshine, her golden hair
+lifted gently by the morning breeze, was Louise gazing at me.</p>
+
+<p>Madame, try to imagine what I felt; as for me, I shall never be able to
+give it expression. I tried to speak, and my voice died away on my lips;
+I wished to stretch out my arms towards the celestial vision, they
+seemed to be made of stone and glued to my side; I wished to rush to
+her, my feet were nailed to the floor. However, she still stood there
+smiling at me. Finally, after a desperate effort, I succeeded in
+breaking the charm which bound me, and rushed from my room wild with
+delight, mad with happiness. I was mad, that's the word. Holy madness!
+cold reason should humble itself in the dust before thee! As quick as
+thought, by some magic, I found myself before Louise's door. I had
+recognised the house so long sought for before. I entered without a
+question, guided alone by the perfume that ascended from the sanctuary;
+I took Louise's hands in mine, and we stood gazing silently at each
+other in an ecstasy of happiness fatally lost and miraculously
+recovered; the ecstasy of two lovers, who, separated by a shipwreck,
+believing each other dead, meet, radiant with love and life, upon the
+same happy shore.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, it was you!&quot; she said at last, pointing to my room with a charming
+gesture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, it was you!&quot; I exclaimed in my turn, eagerly glancing at a little
+brass lamp which I had observed on a table covered with screens, boxes
+of colors and porcelain palettes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You were the little light!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You were my evening star!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And we both began to recite the poem of those two years of our lives,
+and we found that we told the same story. Louise began my sentences and
+I finished hers. In disclosing our heart secrets and the mysterious
+sympathy that had existed between us for two years, we interrupted each
+other with expressions of astonishment and admiration. We paused time
+and time again to gaze at each other and press each other's hands, as if
+to assure ourselves that we were awake and it was not all a dream. And
+every moment this gay and charming refrain broke in upon our ecstasy:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you were the brother and friend of my poverty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you were the sister and companion of my solitude!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>We finally approached in our recollections, through many windings, our
+meeting upon the banks of the Seine, under the shades of Richeport.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What seems sad to me,&quot; she said with touching grace, &quot;is that after
+having loved me without knowing me, you should have left me as soon as
+you did know me. You only worshipped your idle fancies, and, had I loved
+you then,&quot; she continued, &quot;I should have been forced to be jealous of
+this little lamp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I told her what inexorable necessity compelled me to leave Richeport and
+her. Louise listened with a pensive and charming air; but when I came to
+speak of Edgar's love, she burst out laughing and began to relate, in
+the gayest manner, some story or other about Turks, which I failed to
+understand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M. de Meilhan loves you, does he not?&quot; I asked finally, with a vague
+feeling of uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes,&quot; she cried, &quot;he loves me to&mdash;madness!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He loves you, since he is jealous.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes,&quot; she cried again, &quot;jealous as a&mdash;Mussulman.&quot; and then she
+began to laugh again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why,&quot; I again asked, &quot;if you did not love him, did you stay at
+Richeport two or three days after I left?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because I expected you to return,&quot; she replied, laying aside her
+childish gayety and becoming grave and serious.</p>
+
+<p>I told her of my love. I was sincere, and therefore should have been
+eloquent. I saw her eyes fill with tears, which were not this time tears
+of sorrow. I unfolded to her my whole life; all that I had hoped for,
+longed for, suffered down to the very hour when she appeared to me as
+the enchanting realization of my youthful dreams.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ask me,&quot; she said, &quot;to share your destiny, and you do not know who
+I am, whence I come, or whither I go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You mistake, I know you,&quot; I cried; &quot;you are as noble as you are
+beautiful; you come from heaven, and you will return to it. Bear me with
+you on your wings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sir, all that is very vague,&quot; she answered, smilingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Listen,&quot; said I. &quot;It is true that I do not know who you are; but I
+know, I feel that falsehood has never profaned those lips, nor perverted
+the brightness of those eyes. Here is my hand; it is the hand of a
+gentleman. Take it without fear or hesitation, that is all I ask.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M. de Villiers, it is well,&quot; she said placing her little hand in mine.
+&quot;And now,&quot; she added, &quot;do you wish to know my life?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; I replied, &quot;you can tell me of it when you have given it to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have seen you,&quot; said I; &quot;you can tell me nothing. I feel that there
+is a mystery in your existence, but I also feel that that mystery is
+honorable, that you could only conceal a treasure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At these words an indefinable smile played around her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At least,&quot; she cried, &quot;you know certainly that I am poor?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; I answered, &quot;but you have shown yourself worthy of fortune, and
+I, on my part, hope that I have proved myself not altogether unworthy of
+poverty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The day glided imperceptibly by, enlivened with tender communings. I
+examined in all its details the room which my thoughts had so often
+visited. It required considerable self-control to repress the
+inclination to carry to my lips the little lamp which had brought me
+more delight than Aladdin's ever could have done. I spoke of you,
+madame, mingling your image with my happiness in order to complete it. I
+told Louise how you would love her, that she would love you too; she
+replied that she loved you already. At evening we parted, and our joyous
+lamps burned throughout the night.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of my bliss, I do not forget, madame, the interests that
+are dear to you. Have you written to Mademoiselle de Chateaudun as I
+begged you to do? Have you written with firmness? Have you told your
+young friend that her peace and future are at stake? Have you pointed
+out to her the storm ready to burst over her head? When I left M. de
+Monbert he was gloomy and irritated. Let Mademoiselle Chateaudun take
+care!</p>
+
+<p>Accept the expression of my respectful homage.</p>
+
+<p>RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXXII'></a><h2>XXXII.</h2>
+
+
+RENE DE CHATEAUDUN <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).<br />
+<br />
+Paris, Aug. 5th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>All of your letters have reached me at once. I received two yesterday
+and one this morning, the latter being written first and dated at Berne.
+Ah! if it had reached me in due time, what distress I would have been
+spared! What! he wrote you, &quot;I love her,&quot; and said nothing to me! When
+he left me you know how unhappy he was, and I, who was made so miserable
+by his departure, I thought he was indifferent!</p>
+
+<p>When I told you that I was about to sacrifice myself to console Madame
+de Meilhan, you must have thought me insane; I can see by your letter
+from Geneva, which I received yesterday, that you were dreadfully
+alarmed about me. Cursed journey! Cursed mail! A letter lost might have
+destroyed my happiness for ever! This letter was delayed on the road
+several days, and, during these several days, I suffered more torture
+than I ever felt during the most painful moments of my life. These
+useless sorrows, that I might so easily have avoided, render me
+incredulous and trembling before this future of promised happiness. I
+have suffered so much that joy itself finds me fearful; and then this
+happiness is so great that it is natural to receive it with sadness and
+doubt.</p>
+
+<p>He told you of his delirious joy, on recognising me at the window; but
+he did not tell you, he could not tell you, of my uneasiness, of my
+dreadful suspicions, my despair when I saw him in this garret.</p>
+
+<p>Our situations were not the same; what astonished and delighted him,
+also astonished and delighted me, but at the same time filled me with
+alarm. He believed me to be poor, discovered me in an attic; it was
+nothing to be surprised at; the only wonderful thing about it was that
+my garret should be immediately opposite the house where he lived.... I
+knew he was wealthy; I knew he was the Count de Villiers; I knew he was
+of an old and noble family; I knew from his conversation that he had
+travelled over Italy in a manner suitable to his rank; I found him in
+Richeport, elegant and generous; he possesses great simplicity of
+manner, it is true, but it is the lordly simplicity of a great man....
+In fact, everything I knew about him convinces me that his proper place
+was not a garret, and that if I saw him there, I did not see him in his
+own house.</p>
+
+<p>Remember, Valentine, that for two months I have lived upon deceptions; I
+have been disillusioned; I have inspired the most varied and excessive
+griefs; I have studied the most picturesque consolations; I have seen
+myself lamented at the Odeon, by one lover in a box with painted women,
+... and at Havre by another in a tavern with a slave.... I might now see
+myself lamented at Paris by a third in a garret with a grisette! Oh!
+torture! in this one instant of dread, all the arrows of jealousy
+rankled in my heart. Oh! I could not be indignant this time, I could not
+complain, I could only die.... And I think that if I had not seen the
+pure joy beaming in his eyes, lighting up his noble countenance; if I
+had not instantly divined, comprehended everything, I believe I would
+have dashed myself from the window to escape the strange agony that made
+my heart cold and my brain dizzy&mdash;agony that I could not and would not
+endure. But he looked too happy to be culpable; he made a sign, and I
+saw that he was coming over to see me. I waited for him&mdash;and in what a
+state! My hair was disarranged, and I called Blanchard to assist me in
+brushing it; my voice was so weak she came running to me frightened,
+thinking me ill ... a thousand confused thoughts rushed through my
+brain; one thing was clear: I had found him again, I was about to see
+him!</p>
+
+<p>When I was dressed&mdash;oh! that morning little did I think I would need a
+becoming dress, ... I sat on the sofa in my poor little parlor, and
+there, pale with emotion, scarcely daring to breathe, I listened with
+burning impatience to the different noises about the house. In a few
+moments I heard a knock, the door open, a voice exclaim, &quot;You, Monsieur
+le Comte!&quot; He did not wait to be announced, but came in at once to the
+parlor where I was. He was so joyous at finding me, and I so delighted
+at seeing him, that for the first blissful moments of our meeting
+neither of us thought explanations necessary; his joy proved that he was
+free to love me, and my manner showed that I might be everything to him.
+When he found his voice, he said to me: &quot;What! were you this cherished
+star that I have loved for two years?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then I remembered my momentary fears, and said: &quot;What! were you the
+mysterious beacon? Why were you living there? Why did the Comte de
+Villiers dwell in a garret?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then, dear Valentine, he told me his noble history; he confessed, rather
+unwillingly, that he had been poor like myself; very poor, because he
+had given all his fortune to save the honor of a friend, M. Frederick de
+B&mdash;&mdash; Oh! how I wept, while listening to this touching story, so full of
+sublime simplicity, generous carelessness and self-sacrifice! This would
+have made me adore him if I had not already madly loved him. While he
+was telling me, I was thinking of the unfortunate Frederick's wife, of
+her anxiety, of the torture she suffered, as a wife and a mother, when
+she believed her husband lost and her children ruined; of her
+astonishment and wild joy when she saw them all saved; of her deep,
+eternal gratitude! and I had but one thought, I said to myself: &quot;How I
+would like to talk with this woman of Raymond!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I wished in turn to relate my own history; he refused to listen to me,
+and I did not insist. I wished to be generous, and let him for some time
+longer believe me to be poor and miserable. He was so happy at the idea
+of enriching and ennobling me, that I had not the courage to disenchant
+him.</p>
+
+<p>However, yesterday, I was obliged to tell him everything; in his
+impatience to hasten our marriage he had devoted the morning to the
+drawing up of his papers, contracts and settlements; for two days he had
+been tormenting me for my family papers in order to arrange them, and to
+find the register of my birth, which was indispensable when he appeared
+before the mayor. I had always put off giving it to him, but yesterday
+he entreated me so earnestly, that I was compelled to assent. In order
+to prepare him for the shock, I told him my papers were in my secretary,
+and that if he would come into my room he could see them. At the sight
+of the grand family pictures covering the walls of my retreat, he stood
+aghast; then he examined them with uneasiness. Some of the portraits
+bore the names and titles of the illustrious persons they represented.
+Upon reading the name, Victor Louis de Chateaudun, Marechal de France,
+he stopped motionless and looked at me with a strange air; then he read,
+beneath the portrait of a beautiful woman, the following inscription:
+&quot;Marie Felicit&eacute; Diane de Chateaudun, Duchesse de Montignan,&quot; and turning
+quickly towards me, with a face deadly pale, he exclaimed: &quot;Louise?&quot;
+&quot;No, not Louise, but Irene!&quot; I replied; and my voice rang with ancestral
+pride when I thus appeared before him in my true character.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he was silent, and a bitter, sad expression came over his
+countenance, that frightened me. Then I thought, it is nothing but envy;
+it is hard for a man who knows he is generous to be outdone in
+generosity. It is disappointing, when he thinks he is bestowing
+everything, to find he is about to receive millions; it is cruel, when
+he dreams of making a sacrifice like the hero of a novel, to find
+himself constrained to destroy all the romance by conducting the affair
+on a business basis. But Raymond was more than sad, and his almost
+severe demeanor alarmed my love, as well as my dignity ... he crossed to
+the other side of the room and sat down. I followed him, trembling with
+agitation, and my eyes filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You no longer love me,&quot; I said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I dare not love the fianc&eacute;e of my friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't mention M. de Monbert, nor your scruples, he would not understand
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But he told you he loved you, Mlle., why did you leave him so
+abruptly?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I distrusted this love and wished to test it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the result of the test?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He does not love me, and I despise him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He does love you, and you ought to respect him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then, in order to avoid painful explanations and self-justification, I
+handed him a long letter I had written to my cousin, in which I related,
+without telling her of my disguise, that I had seen the Prince de
+Monbert at the theatre, described the people whom he was with, and my
+disgust at his conduct. I begged her to read this letter to the Prince
+himself, who is with her now&mdash;he has followed her to one of her estates
+in Brittany; he would see from the decided tone of my letter, that my
+resolution was taken, that I did not love him, and that the best thing
+he could do was to forget me.</p>
+
+<p>I had written this letter yesterday, under your inspiration, and to ward
+off the imaginary dangers you feared. Rely upon it, my dear Valentine,
+M. de Monbert knows that he has acted culpably towards me; he might,
+perhaps, endeavor to prevent my marriage, but when he knows I am no
+longer free, he will be compelled to resign himself to my loss; don't be
+alarmed, I know of two beautiful creatures whom he will allow to console
+him. A man really unhappy would not have confided the story of his
+disdained love to all his friends, valets and the detectives; he would
+not hand over to idle gossip a dear and sacred name; a man who has no
+respect for his love, does not love seriously; he deserves neither
+regard nor pity. I will write to him myself to-morrow, if you desire it;
+but as to a quarrel, what does he claim? I have never given him any
+rights; if he threatens to provoke my husband to a duel, I have only to
+say: &quot;Take for your seconds Messrs. Ernest and George de S., who were
+intoxicated with you at the Odeon,&quot; and he will blush with shame, and
+instantly recognise how odious and ridiculous is his anger.</p>
+
+<p>I left Raymond alone in my room reading this letter, and I returned to
+the saloon to weep bitterly. I could not bear to see him displeased with
+me; I knew he would accuse me of being trifling and capricious&mdash;the idea
+of having offended him pierced my heart with anguish. I know not if the
+letter justified me in his eyes, whether he thought it honest and
+dignified, but as soon as he had finished reading it he called me:
+&quot;Irene,&quot; he said, and I trembled with sweet emotion on hearing him, for
+the first time, utter my real name; I returned to the next room, he took
+my hand and continued: &quot;Pardon me for believing, for a moment, that you
+were capricious and trifling, and I forgive you for having made me act
+an odious part towards one of my friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then he told me in a tender voice that he understood my conduct, and
+that it was right; that when one is not sure of loving her intended, or
+of being loved by him, she has a right to test him, and that it was only
+honest and just. Then he smilingly asked me if I did not wish to try
+him, and leave him a month or two to see if I was beloved by him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh! no,&quot; I cried, &quot;I believe in you. I do not wish to leave you. Oh!
+how can true lovers live apart from each other? How can they be
+separated for a single day?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I recalled what you told me when I abandoned M. de Monbert, and
+acknowledged that you were right when you said: &quot;Genuine love is
+confiding, it shuns doubt because it cannot endure it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This sad impression that he felt upon learning that Louise Gu&eacute;rin was
+Irene de Chateaudun, was the only cloud that passed over our happiness.
+Soon joy returned to us lively and pure&mdash;and we spoke of you tenderly;
+he was the poor wounded man that gave you so much uneasiness; he was the
+model husband you had chosen for me, and whom I refused with such proud
+scorn!</p>
+
+<p>Ah! my good Valentine, how I thank you for having nursed him as a
+sister; how noble and charming you were to him; I would like to reward
+you by having you here to witness our happiness. And you must thank the
+esteemed M. de Braimes for me, and my beautiful Irene, who taught him to
+love my name, and brought him a bouquet every morning; and your handsome
+Henri, the golden-haired angel, who brought him his little doves in your
+work-basket to take care of, while he studied his lessons. Embrace for
+me these dear children he caressed, who cheered his hours of suffering,
+whom I so love for his sake and yours.</p>
+
+<p>Will you not let me show my appreciation of my little goddaughter by
+rendering her independent of future accidents, enabling her without
+imprudence to marry for love?</p>
+
+<p>I am so happy in loving that I can imagine it to be the only source of
+joy to others; yet this happiness is so great that I find myself asking
+if my heart is equal to its blessings; if my poor reason, wearied by so
+many trials, will have sufficient strength to support these violent
+emotions; if happiness has not, like misery, a madness. I endeavor when
+alone to calm my excited mind; I sit down and try to quietly think over
+my past life with that inflexibility of judgment, that analyzing
+pedantry, of which you have so often accused me.</p>
+
+<p>You remember, Valentine, more than once you have told me you saw in me
+two persons, a romantic young girl and a disenchanted old
+philosopher.... Ah! well, to-day the romantic young girl has reached the
+most thrilling chapter of her life; she feels her weak head whirl at the
+prospect of such intoxicating bliss, and she appeals to the old
+philosopher for assistance. She tells him how this bliss frightens her;
+she begs him to reassure her about this beautiful future opening before
+her, by proving to her that it is natural and logical; that it is the
+result of her past life, and finally that however great it may be,
+however extraordinary it may seem, it is possible, it is lasting,
+because it is bought at the price of humiliation, of sorrow, of trials!</p>
+
+<p>Yes, I confess it, these happy events appear to be so strange, so
+impossible, that I try to explain them, to calmly analyze them and
+believe in their reality.</p>
+
+<p>I recall one by one all my impressions of the last four years, and exert
+my mind to discover in the strangeness, in the fatality, in the
+excessive injustice of my past misfortunes, a natural explanation for
+extraordinary and incredible events of the present. The reverses
+themselves were romantic and improbable, therefore the reparations and
+consolations should in their turn be equally romantic. Is it an ordinary
+thing for a young girl reared like myself in Parisian luxury, belonging
+to an illustrious family, to be reduced to the sternest poverty, and
+through family pride and dignity to conceal her name? Is not such
+dignity, assailed by fate, destined sooner or later to vindicate itself?</p>
+
+<p>You see that through myself I would have been restored to my rank. M. de
+Meilhan wished to marry me without fortune or name.... Yesterday, M. de
+Villiers knew not who I was; my uncle's inheritance has therefore been
+of no assistance to me. I believe that native dignity will always
+imperceptibly assert itself. I believe in the logic of events; order has
+imperious laws; it is useless to throw statues to the ground, the time
+always comes when they are restored to their pedestals. From my rank I
+fell unjustly, unhappily. I must be restored to it justly. Every glaring
+injustice has a natural consequent, a brilliant reparation, I have
+suffered extraordinary misfortune; I have a right to realize ideal
+happiness. At twenty, I lost in one year my noble and too generous
+father and my poor mother; it is only just that I should have a lover to
+replace these lost ones.</p>
+
+<p>As to these violent passions which you pretend I have inspired, but
+which are by no means serious, I examine them calmly and find in the
+analysis an explanation of many of the misfortunes, many of the mistakes
+of poor women, who are accused of inconstancy and perfidy, and who are,
+on the contrary, only culpable through innocence and honest faith. They
+believe they love, and engage themselves, and then, once engaged, they
+discover that they are not in love. Genuine love is composed of two
+sentiments; we experience one of these when we believe we love; we are
+uneasy, agitated by an imperfect sentiment that seeks completion; we
+struggle in its feeble ties; we are neither bound nor free; not happy,
+nor at liberty to seek happiness at another source.... The old
+philosopher speaks&mdash;hear him.</p>
+
+<p>There are two kinds of love, social love and natural love; voluntary
+love and involuntary love. An accomplished and deserving young man loves
+a woman; he loves her, and deserves to be loved in return; she wishes to
+love him, and when alone thinks of him; if his name is mentioned, she
+blushes; if any one says in her presence, &quot;Madame B. used to be in love
+with him,&quot; she is disturbed, agitated. These symptoms are certain proofs
+of the state of her heart, and she says to herself, &quot;I love Adolphe,&quot;
+just as I said, &quot;I love Roger.&quot; ... But the voice of this man does not
+move her to tears; his fiery glances do not make her turn pale or blush;
+her hand does not tremble in the presence of his.... She only feels for
+him social love; there exists between them a harmony of ideas and
+education, but no sympathy of nature.</p>
+
+<p>The other love is more dangerous, especially for married women, who
+mistake remorse for that honest repugnance necessarily inspired in every
+woman of refined mind and romantic imagination.</p>
+
+<p>I frankly confess that if I had been married, if I had no longer control
+of my actions, I should have thought I was in love with Edgar.... I
+should have mistaken for an odious and culpable passion, the fearful
+trouble, insupportable uneasiness that his love caused me to feel. But
+my vigilant reason, my implacable good faith watched over my heart; they
+said: &quot;Shun Roger;&quot; they said: &quot;Fear Edgar....&quot; If I had married Roger,
+woe to me! Conventional love, leaving my heart all its dreams, would
+have embittered my life.... But if, more foolish still, I had married
+Edgar, woe, woe to me! because one does not sacrifice with impunity to
+an incomplete love all of one's theories, habits and even weaknesses and
+early prejudices.</p>
+
+<p>What enlightened me quickly upon the unreality of this love was the
+liberty of my position. Why being free should I fear a legitimate love?
+Strange mystery! wonderful instinct! With Roger, I sadly said to myself:
+&quot;I love him, but it is not with love.&quot; ... With Edgar, I said in fright:
+&quot;This is love, yet I do not love him.&quot; And then when Raymond appeared,
+my heart, my reason, my faith at the first glance recognised him, and
+without hesitation, almost without prudence, I cried out, &quot;It is he....
+I love him.&quot; ... Now this is what I call real love, ideal love, harmony
+of ideas and sympathy of hearts.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! it does me good to be a little pedantic; I am so excited, it calms
+me; I am not so afraid of going crazy when I adopt the sententious
+manner. Ah! when I can laugh I am happy. Anything that for a moment
+checks my wild imagination, reassures me.</p>
+
+<p>This morning we laughed like two children! You will laugh too; when I
+write one name it will set you off; he said to me, &quot;I must go to my
+coachmaker's and see if my travelling carriage needs any repairs.&quot; I
+said, &quot;I have a new one; I will send for it, and let you see it.&quot; In an
+hour my carriage was brought into the court-yard. With peals of laughter
+he recognised Lady Penock's carriage. &quot;Lady Penock! What! do you know
+Lady Penock? Are you the audacious young lover who pursued her until she
+was compelled to sell me her carriage.&quot; &quot;Yes, I was the man.&quot; Ah! how
+gay we were; he was the hero of Lady Penock, his was the little light,
+he was the wounded man, he was the husband selected for me! Ah! it all
+makes me dizzy; and we shall set off to travel in this carriage.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Lady Penock, you must pardon him.</p>
+
+<p>IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXXIII'></a><h2>XXXIII.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+Porte Restante (Rouen).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, Aug. 11th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Here I am in Paris, gloomy, with nothing to do, not knowing how to fill
+up the void in my life, discontented with myself, ridiculous in my own
+eyes, alike in my love and in my despair. I have never felt so sad, so
+wretched, so cast-down. My days and nights are passed in endless
+self-accusation: one by one I revise every word and action relating to
+Louise Gu&eacute;rin. I compose superb sentences which I had forgotten to
+pronounce, the effect of which would have been irresistible. I tell
+myself: &quot;On such a day, you were guilty of a stupid timidity, which
+would have made even a college-boy laugh.&quot; It was the moment for daring.
+Louise, unseen, threw you a look which you were too stupid to
+understand. The evening that Madame Taverneau was at Rouen, you allowed
+yourself to be intimidated like a fool, by a few grand airs, an
+affectation of virtue over which the least persistence would have
+triumphed. Your delicacy ruined you. A little roughness doesn't hurt
+sometimes, especially with prudes. You have not profited by a single one
+of your advantages; you let every opportunity pass. In short, I am like
+a general who has lost a battle, and who, having retired to his tent, in
+the midst of a field strewn with the dead and the dying marks out, too
+late, a strategic plan which would have infallibly gained him the
+victory!</p>
+
+<p>What a pitiless monster an unsatiated desire is, tearing your heart with
+its sharp claws and piercing beak for want of other prey! The punishment
+of Prometheus pales beside it, for the arrows of Hercules cannot reach
+this unseen vulture! This is my first unsuccessful love; the first
+falcon that has returned to me without bringing the dove in his talons;
+I am devoured by an inexpressible rage; I pace my room like a wild
+beast, uttering inarticulate cries; I do not know whether I love or
+hate Louise the most, but I should take infinite delight in strangling
+her with her blonde tresses and trampling her, affrighted and suppliant,
+under my feet.</p>
+
+<p>My good Roger, I weary you with my lamentations; but whom can we weary,
+if not our friends? When will you return to Paris? Soon, I hope, since
+you have ceased writing to me.</p>
+
+<p>I have gone back to the lady with the turban, passing nearly every
+evening in the catafalque, which she calls her drawing-room. This
+lugubrious habitation suits my melancholy. She finds me more gloomy,
+more Giaour-like, more Lara-like than usual; I am her hero, her god! or
+rather her demon, for she has now taken to the sorceries of the satanic
+school! I assure you that she annoys me inexpressibly, and yet I feel a
+sort of pleasure in being admired by her. It consoles my vanity for
+Louise's disdain, but not my heart. Alas! my poor heart, which still
+bleeds and suffers. I caught a glimpse of Paradise through a half-open
+door. The door is shut, and I weep upon the threshold!</p>
+
+<p>If Louise were dead, I might be calm; but she exists, and not for
+me&mdash;that thought makes life insupportable. I can think of nothing else,
+and I scarcely know whether the words I write to you make any sense. I
+leave my letter unfinished. I will finish it this evening if I can
+succeed in diverting myself, for a moment, from this despair which
+possesses me.</p>
+
+<p>Roger, something incredible has happened, overturning every calculation,
+every prevision. I am stupefied, benumbed&mdash;I was at the Marquise's,
+where it was darker than usual. One solitary lamp flickered in a corner,
+dozing under a huge shade. A fat gentleman, buried in an easy-chair,
+drowsily retailed the news of the day.</p>
+
+<p>I was not listening to him; I was thinking of Louise's little white
+couch, from which I had once lifted the snowy curtain; with that
+sorrowful intensity, those poignant regrets which torture rejected
+lovers. Suddenly a familiar name struck my ear&mdash;the name of Irene de
+Chateaudun. I became attentive&mdash;&quot;She is to be married to-morrow,&quot;
+continued the well-posted gentleman, &quot;to&mdash;wait a minute, I get confused
+about names and dates; with that exception, my memory is excellent&mdash;a
+young man, Gaston, Raymond, I am not certain which, but his first name
+ends in <i>on</i> I am sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I eagerly questioned the fat man; he knew nothing more; hastily
+returning to my rooms I sent Joseph out to obtain further information.</p>
+
+<p>My servant, who is quick and intelligent, and merits a master more given
+to intrigue and gallantry than I, went to the twelve mayors' offices. He
+brought me a list of all the banns that had been published.</p>
+
+<p>The news was true; Irene de Chateaudun marries Raymond. What does that
+signify? Irene your fianc&eacute;e, Raymond our friend! What comedy of errors
+is being played here? This, then, was the motive of these flights, these
+disappearances. They were laughing at you. It seems to me rather an
+audacious proceeding. How does it happen that Raymond, who knew of your
+projected marriage with Mademoiselle de Chateaudun, should have stepped
+in your shoes? This comes of deeds of prowess &agrave; la Don Quixote, and
+rescues of old Englishwomen.</p>
+
+<p>Hasten, my friend, by railroad, post-horses, in the stirrup, on
+hippogriff's wing; what am I talking about? You will scarcely receive my
+letter ere the marriage has taken place. But I will keep watch for you.
+I will acquit myself of your revenge, and Mademoiselle Irene de
+Chateaudun shall not become Madame Raymond de Villiers until I have
+whispered that in her ear which will make her paler than her marriage
+veil. As to Raymond, I am not astonished at what he has done; I felt
+towards him at Richeport a hate which never deceives me and which I
+always feel towards cowards and hypocrites; he talked too much of virtue
+not to be a scoundrel. I would I had the power to raze out from my life
+the time that I loved him. It is impossible to oppose this revolting
+marriage. How is it possible that Irene de Chateaudun, who was to enjoy
+the honor of being your wife, whom you had represented to me as a woman
+of high intelligence and lofty culture, could have allowed herself to
+be impressed, after having known you, by the jeremiads of this
+sentimental sniveller? Since Eve, women have disliked all that is noble,
+frank and loyal; to fall is an unconquerable necessity of their nature;
+they have always preferred, to the voice of an honorable man, the
+perfidious whisper of the evil spirit, which shows its painted face
+among the leaves and wraps its slimy coils around the fatal tree.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXXIV'></a><h2>XXXIV.</h2>
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS <i>to</i> MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,<br />
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Is&egrave;re).<br />
+<br />
+Paris, Aug. 11th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>This is probably the last letter that I shall ever write to you. Do not
+pity me, my fate is more worthy of envy than of pity. I never knew, I
+never dreamed of anything more beautiful. It has been said time and
+again that real life is tame, spiritless and disenchanted by the side of
+the fictions of the poets. What a mistake! There is a more wonderful
+inventor than any rhapsodist, and that inventor is called reality. It
+wears the magic ring, and imagination is but a poor magician compared
+with it. Madame, do not write to Mademoiselle de Chateaudun. Since you
+have not done so my letters must necessarily have miscarried. Blessed be
+the happy chance which prevented you from following my advice! What did
+I say to you? I was a fool. Be careful not to alarm my darling. The man
+has lived long enough upon whom she has bestowed her love for one single
+day. Do not write, it is too late; but admire the decrees of fate. The
+diamond that I had sought with the Prince de Monbert, I have unwittingly
+found; I assisted in searching for it, while it was hid, unknown to me,
+in my heart. Louise is Irene. Madame Gu&eacute;rin is Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun. If you could have seen her delight in revealing her
+identity! I saw her joyful and triumphant as if her love were not the
+most precious gift she could bestow. When she proclaimed herself, I felt
+an icy chill pass through me; but I thanked God for the bliss which I
+shall not survive, so great that death must follow after.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you not love me well enough,&quot; she said, &quot;to pardon me my fortune?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>How was she to know that in revealing herself she had signed my
+death-warrant?</p>
+
+<p>She spoke, laughingly, of M. de Monbert, as she had done of Edgar; to
+excuse herself she related a story of disenchantment which you already
+know, madame. It would have been honorable in me, at this juncture, to
+have undeceived Irene and enlightened her upon the Prince's passion. I
+did so, but feebly. When happiness is offered us loaded with ball, we
+have no longer the right to be generous.</p>
+
+<p>We are to be married privately to-morrow, without noise or display. A
+plain-looking carriage will wait for us on the Place de la Madeleine;
+immediately on leaving the church we shall set out for Villiers. M. de
+Meilhan is at Richeport. M. de Monbert is in Brittany. Eight days must
+elapse before the news can reach them. Thus I have before me eight days
+of holy intoxication. What man has ever been able to say as much?</p>
+
+<p>Recall to mind the words of one of your poet friends; It is better to
+die young and restore to God, your judge, a heart pure and full of
+illusions. Your poet is right; only it is more ecstatic to die in the
+arms of happiness, and to be buried with the flower of a love which has
+not yet faded.</p>
+
+<p>My love would never have followed the fatal law of common-place
+affection; years would never have withered it in their passage. But what
+signifies its duration, if we can crowd eternity into an hour? What
+signifies the number of days if the days are full?</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, I cannot refrain from regretting an existence which
+promises so much beauty. We would have been very happy in my little
+ch&acirc;teau on the Creuse. I was born for fireside joys, the delights of
+home. I already saw my beautiful children playing over my green lawns,
+and pressing joyfully around their mother. What exquisite pleasure to be
+able to initiate into the mysteries of fortune the sweet and noble being
+whom I then believed to be poor and friendless! I would take possession
+of her life to make a long f&ecirc;te-day of it. What tender care would I not
+bestow upon so dear and charming a destiny! Downy would be her nest,
+warm the sun that shone upon her, sweet the perfumes that surrounded
+her, soft the breezes that fanned her cheek, green and velvety the turf
+under her delicate feet! But a truce to such sweet dreams. I know M. de
+Monbert; what I have seen of him is sufficient. M. de Meilhan, too, will
+not disappoint me. I shall not conceal myself; in eight days these two
+men will have found me. In eight days they will knock at my door, like
+two creditors, demanding restitution, one of Louise, the other of Irene.
+If I were to descend to justification, even if I were to succeed in
+convincing them of my loyalty and uprightness, their despair would cry
+out all the louder for vengeance. Then, madame, what shall I do? Shall I
+try to take the life of my friends after having robbed them of their
+happiness? Let them kill me; I shall be ready; but they shall see upon
+my lips, growing cold in death, the triumphant smile of victorious love;
+my last sigh, breathing Irene's name, will be a cruel insult to these
+unhappy men, who will envy me even in the arms of death.</p>
+
+<p>I neither believe nor desire that Irene should survive me. My soul, in
+leaving, will draw hers after it. What would she do here below, without
+me? You will see, that feeling herself gently drawn upward, she will
+leave a world that I no longer inhabit. I repeat, that I would not have
+her live on earth without me. But sorrow does not always kill; youth is
+strong, and nature works miracles. I have seen trees, struck by
+lightning, still stand erect and put forth new leaves. I have seen
+blasted lives drag their weary length to a loveless old age. I have seen
+noble hearts severed from their mates, slowly consumed by the weariness
+of widowhood and solitude. If we could die when we have lost those we
+love, it would be too sweet to love. Jealous of his creature, God does
+not always permit it. It is a grace which he accords only to the elect.
+If, by a fatality not without precedent, Irene should have the strength
+and misfortune to survive me, to you, madame, do I confide her. Care for
+her, not with the hope of consoling her, but to banish all bitterness
+from her regrets. Picture my death to her, not as the expiation of the
+innocent whim of her youth, but as that of a happiness too great to go
+unchecked. Tell her that there are great joys as well as great sorrows,
+and that when they have outweighed the human measure of happiness, the
+heart which holds them must break and grow still. Tell her, ah! above
+all, tell her that I have dearly loved her, and if I carry her whole
+life away with me, I leave her mine in exchange. Finally, madame, tell
+her that I died blessing her, regretting that I had but one life to lay
+down as the price of her love.</p>
+
+<p>While I write, I see her at her window, smiling, radiant, beautiful,
+beaming with happiness, resplendent with life and youth.</p>
+
+<p>Farewell, madame; an eternal farewell!</p>
+
+<p>RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXXV'></a><h2>XXXV.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+Poste-Restante (Rouen).<br />
+<br />
+Paris, August 12th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>What I wrote you yesterday was very infamous and incredible. You think
+that is all; well, no! you have only half of the story. My hand trembles
+with rage so that I can scarcely hold my pen. What remains to be told is
+the acme of perfidy; a double-dyed treason; we have been made game of,
+you as a plighted husband, I as a lover. All this seems as incoherent to
+you as a dream. What can I have in common with Irene whom I have never
+seen? Wait, you shall see!</p>
+
+<p>My faithful Joseph discovered that the marriage was to take place at the
+Church of the Madeleine, at six o'clock in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>I was so agitated, so restless, so tormented by gloomy presentiments
+that I did not go to bed. At the given hour I went out wrapped in my
+cloak. Although it is summer-time I was cold; a slight feverish chill
+ran through me. The catastrophe to come had already turned me pale.</p>
+
+<p>The Madeleine stood out faintly against the gray morning sky. The livid
+figures of some revellers, surprised by the day, were seen here and
+there on the street corners. The stir of the great city had not yet
+begun. I thought I had arrived too soon, but a carriage with neither
+crest nor cipher, in charge of a servant in quiet livery, was stationed
+in one of the cross-streets that run by the church.</p>
+
+<p>I ascended the steps with uncertain footing, and soon saw, in one of
+those spurious chapels, which have been stuck with so much trouble in
+that counterfeit Greek temple, wax lights and the motions of the priest
+who officiated.</p>
+
+<p>The bride, enveloped in her veil, prostrated before the altar, seemed to
+be praying fervently; the husband, as if he were not the most
+contemptible of men, stood erect and proud, his face beaming with joy.
+The ceremony drew to a close, Irene raised her head, but I was so placed
+as not to be able to distinguish her features.</p>
+
+<p>I leaned against a column in order to whisper in Irene's ear, as she
+passed, a word as cutting as the crystal poniards of the bravos of
+Venice, which break in the wound and slay without a drop of blood. Irene
+advanced buoyantly along, leaning on Raymond's arm, with an undulating,
+rhythmical grace, as if her feet trod the yielding clouds, instead of
+the cold stones of the aisle. She no longer walked the earth, her
+happiness lifted her up; the ardor of her delight made me comprehend
+those assumptions of the Saints, who soared in their ecstasy above the
+floors of their narrow cells and caverns; she felt the deep delight of a
+woman who sacrifices herself.</p>
+
+<p>When she reached the column that concealed me, an electrical current
+doubtless warned her of my presence, for she shuddered as if struck by
+an unseen arrow, and quickly turned her head; a stray sunbeam lit up her
+face, and I recognised in Irene de Chateaudun, Louise Gu&eacute;rin; in the
+rich heiress, the screen-painter of Pont de l'Arche!</p>
+
+<p>Irene and Louise were the same person!</p>
+
+<p>We have been treated as Cassandras of comedy; we have played in all
+seriousness the scene between Horace and Arnolphe. We have confided to
+each other our individual loves, hopes and sorrows. It is very amusing;
+but, contrary to custom, the tragedy will come after the farce, and we
+will play it so well that no one will be tempted to laugh at our
+expense; we will convert ridicule into terror. Ah! Mademoiselle Irene de
+Chateaudun, you imagined that you could amuse yourself with two such men
+as the Prince de Moubert and Edgar de Meilhan! that there it would end,
+and you had only to say to them: &quot;I love another better!&quot; And you,
+Master Raymond, thought that your virtuous reputation would make your
+perfidy appear like an act of devotion! No, no, in the drama where the
+great lady was an adventuress, the artless girl a fast woman, the hero
+a traitor, the lover a fool, and the betrothed husband a Geronte, the
+r&ocirc;les are to be changed.</p>
+
+<p>A hoarse cry escaped me, Irene clung convulsively to Raymond's arm, and
+precipitately left the church. Raymond, without understanding this
+sudden flight, yielded to it and rapidly descended the steps. The
+carriage was in waiting; they got into it; the coachman whipped up his
+horses and soon they were out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>Irene, Louise, whatever may be your name or your mask, you shall not
+long remain Madame de Villiers; a speedy widowhood will enable you to
+begin your coquetries again. I regret to be compelled to strike you
+through another, for <i>you</i> merit death.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR BE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXXVI'></a><h2>XXXVI.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE VILLIERS,<br />
+Au Ch&acirc;teau de Villiers (Creuse).<br />
+<br />
+August 16th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>MONSIEUR,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>I take pleasure in sending you, by way of apologue, an anecdote, which
+you may read with profit.</p>
+
+<p>During my travels I met with an estimable man, a Creole of the colony of
+Port Natal, by the name of Smollet.</p>
+
+<p>I sometimes hunted in the neighborhood of his place, and on two
+occasions demanded his hospitality. He received me in a dubious manner,
+admitted me to his table, scarcely spoke to me; served me with
+Constantia wine, refused to accept my proffered hand, and surrendered me
+his own couch to rest my wearied limbs upon. From Port Natal I wrote
+this savage two notes of thanks, commencing: <i>My dear friend</i>&mdash;in
+writing, I could not confer on him a title of rank, so I gave him one of
+affection: <i>My dear friend</i>. My letters were ignored&mdash;as I had asked
+nothing, there was nothing to answer. One evening I met the Creole
+walking up the avenue of Port Natal, and advanced towards him, and held
+out my hand in a friendly way. Once more he declined to accept it. My
+vexation was apparent: &quot;Monsieur,&quot; said the savage, &quot;you appear to be an
+honest, sincere young man, very unlike a European. I must enlighten and
+warn your too unsuspecting mind. You have several times called me <i>your
+dear friend</i>. Doing this might prove disastrous to you, and then I would
+be in despair. I am not your friend; I am the friend of no one.... Avoid
+me, monsieur; shun my neighborhood, shun my house. Withdraw the
+confidence, that with the carelessness of a traveller you have reposed
+in me.... Adieu!&quot; This <i>adieu</i> was accompanied by a sinister smile and a
+savage look that were anything but reassuring to me. I afterwards
+discovered that the Creole Smollet was a professional bandit!!</p>
+
+<p>I hope, Monsieur de Villiers, that the application of this apologue will
+not escape you. At all events, I will add a few lines to enlighten your
+unsophisticated mind. You have always been my friend, monsieur. You have
+never disclaimed this relation; you have always pressed my hand when we
+met. Your professed friendship justified my confidence, and it would
+have been ungrateful in me to have esteemed you less than I did the
+savage. You and Mad. de Braimes have cunningly organized against me a
+plot of the basest nature. Doubtless you call it a happy combination of
+forces&mdash;I call it a perfidious conspiracy. I imagine I hear you and Mad.
+de Braimes at this very moment laughing at your victim as you
+congratulate yourselves on the success of your machinations. It affords
+me pleasure to think that one of these two friends is, perhaps, a man.
+Were they both women I could not demand satisfaction. You deserve my
+gratitude for your great kindness in assisting me when I most needed a
+friend. When I sought Mlle, de Chateaudun with a foolish, blind anxiety,
+you charitably aided me in my efforts to find her. You were my guide, my
+compass, my staff; you led me over roads where Mlle, de Chateaudun never
+thought of going; your guidance was so skilful that at the end of my
+searches you alone found what we had both been vainly seeking. You must
+have been delighted and entertained at the result, monsieur! Did Mad. de
+Braimes laugh very much? Truly, monsieur, you are old beyond your years,
+and your education was not confined to Greek and Latin; your talent for
+acting has been cultivated by a profound study of human nature. You play
+high comedy to perfection, and you should not let your extreme modesty
+prevent your aspiring to a more brilliant theatre. It is a pity that
+your fine acting should be wasted upon me alone. You deserve a larger
+and more appreciative audience! You do not know yourself. I will hold a
+mirror before your eyes; you can affect astonishment, disinterestedness,
+magnanimity, and a constellation of other virtues, blooming like flowers
+in the gardens of the golden age. You are a perfected comedian. If you
+really possessed all the virtues you assume, you would, like Enoch,
+excite the jealousy of Heaven, and be translated to your proper sphere.
+A man of your transcendent virtue would be a moral scourge in our
+corrupt society. He would, by contrast, humiliate his neighbors. In
+these degenerate days such a combination of gifts is antagonistic to
+nature.</p>
+
+<p>Do relieve our anxiety by accepting the title of comedian. Acknowledge
+yourself to be an actor, and our anxious fears are quieted.</p>
+
+<p>I would have my mind set at rest upon one more point. Courage is another
+virtue that can be assumed by a coward, and it would afford me great
+pleasure to see you act the part of a <i>brave</i> comedian.</p>
+
+<p>While waiting for your answer I feel forced to insult you by thinking
+that this last talent is wanting in your rich repertory. Be kind enough
+to deny this imputation, and prove yourself to be a thoroughly
+accomplished actor.</p>
+
+<p>Your admiring audience,</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXXVII'></a><h2>XXXVII.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> COUNT DE VILLIERS,<br />
+Ch&acirc;teau de Villiers, via Gu&eacute;ret (Creuse).<br />
+<br />
+PARIS, Aug. 16th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Noble hidalgo, illustrious knight of la Mancha; you who are so fond of
+adventures and chivalric deeds, I am about to make you a proposition
+which, I hope, will suit your taste: a fight with sharp weapons, be it
+lance, or axe, or dagger; a struggle to the death, showing neither pity
+nor quarter. I know beforehand what you are going to say: Your native
+generosity will prevent you from fighting a duel with your friend. In
+the first place, I am not your friend; traitors have not that honor. Do
+not let that scruple stop you, refined gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>Your mask has fallen off, dear Tartuffe with the fine feelings. We now
+know to what figures you devote yourself. Before dragging English women
+out of the flames you are well aware of their social position. You save
+friends from bankruptcy at a profit of eighty per cent., and when you
+make love to a grisette, you have her crest and the amount of her income
+in your pocket. In coming to my house, you knew that Louise was Irene.
+Madame de Braimes had acquainted you with all the circumstances during
+your interesting convalescence. All this may seem very natural to others
+and to a virtuous mortal, a Grandison like yourself. But I think
+differently; to me your conduct appears cowardly, base and contemptible.
+I should not be able to control myself, but would endeavor to make you
+comprehend my opinion of you, by slapping you in the face, wherever I
+met you. I hope that you will spare me such a disagreeable alternative
+by consenting to <i>pose</i> for a few moments before my sword or pistol, as
+you please. Allow me to entreat you not to exhibit any grandeur of soul,
+by firing in the air, it would not produce the slightest effect upon me,
+for I should kill you like a dog. Your presence upon the earth annoys
+me, and I do not labor for morality in deeds myself.</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XXXVIII'></a><h2>XXXVIII.</h2>
+
+COMTE DE VILLIERS <i>to</i> MESSRS. ROGER DE MONBERT <i>and</i><br />
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN,<br />
+<br />
+VILLIERS, Aug 18th 18&mdash;.<br />
+
+<p>Let us drop such language unworthy of you and of me. We are gentlemen,
+of military descent; our fathers when they did each other the honor that
+you offer me, challenged, but did not insult each other. If the affair
+were equal, if I had only one to contend with, perhaps I might attempt
+to bring him to reason There are two of you; come on, I await you.</p>
+
+<p>COMTE DE VILLIERS XXXIX.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>VILLIERS, August 21st 18&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>For two days I have been trying to answer your letter, my dear
+Valentine, but I am so uneasy, nervous and excited that I dare not
+commit to paper my wild and troubled thoughts; I am still sane enough to
+accuse myself of madness, but dread to prove it. Were I to write down
+all the strange ideas that rush through my mind, and then read them
+over, conviction of insanity would stare me in the face.</p>
+
+<p>I was right when I told you it was a risk to accept such a wealth of
+happiness; my sweet enchantment is disturbed by dark threatening
+clouds&mdash;danger lurks in the air&mdash;the lightest word fills me with
+uneasiness&mdash;a letter written in a strange hand&mdash;an unexpected visitor,
+who leaves Raymond looking preoccupied&mdash;everything alarms me, and he
+gently chides me and asks why I look so sad. I say because I am too
+happy; but he thinks this a poor reason for my depression, and to divert
+my thoughts he walks with me through the beautiful valleys and tells me
+of his youth and the golden dreams of his early manhood, and assures me
+that his dreams of happiness are realized beyond his most exalted
+hopes&mdash;that he did not believe the angels would permit so perfect a
+being as myself to dwell on earth&mdash;that to be loved by me for a day, for
+an hour, he would willingly give up his life, and that such a sacrifice
+was a small price for such a love. I dared not mar his happiness by
+giving expression to my sad fears. His presence allays my apprehensions;
+he has so much confidence in the future that I cannot help being
+inspired with a portion of it; thus, when he is near me, I feel happy
+and reassured, but if he leaves me for a moment I am beset by myriads of
+terrible threatening phantoms. I accuse myself of having been imprudent
+and cruel; I fear I have not, as you say, inspired two undying passions,
+two life-long devotions, but exasperated two vindictive men. I well know
+that M. de Monbert did not love me, and yet I fear his unjust
+resentment. I recall Edgar's absurd breach of faith, and Edgar, whose
+image had until now only seemed ridiculous, Edgar appears before my
+troubled vision furious and threatening. I am haunted by a vague
+remembrance: The day of my wedding, after the benediction, as we were
+leaving the chapel, I was terribly frightened&mdash;in the silent gloom of
+the immense church I heard a voice, an angry stifled voice, utter my
+name ... the name I bore at Pont de l'Arche&mdash;Louise!... I quickly turned
+around to see whence came this voice that could affect me so powerfully
+at such a moment! I could discover no one.... Louise!... Many women are
+called Louise, it is a common name&mdash;perhaps it was some father calling
+his daughter, or some brother his sister. There was nothing remarkable
+in the calling of this name, and yet it filled me with alarm. I recalled
+Edgar's looks on that evening he was so angry with me; the rage gleaming
+in his eyes; the violent contraction of his features, his voice terrible
+and stifled like the voice in the church, and I was now convinced that
+his love was full of haughty pride, selfishness and hatred. But I said
+to myself, if it had been he, he would have followed me and looked in
+our carriage&mdash;I would have seen him in the church, or on the portico
+outside.... Besides, why should he have come?... he had given up seeing
+me; he could easily have found me had he so desired; he knew where
+Madame Taverneau's house was in Paris, and he knew that I lived with
+her; if he had hoped to be received by me, he would have simply called
+to pay a visit.... Finally, if he was at this early hour&mdash;six in the
+morning&mdash;in the church, at so great a distance from where I live, it was
+not to act as a spy upon me. The man who called Louise was not Edgar&mdash;it
+could not have been Edgar. This reflection reassured me. I questioned
+Raymond; he had seen no one, heard no one. I remembered that M. de
+Meilhan was not in Paris, and tried to convince myself that it was
+foolish to think of him any more. But yesterday I learned in a letter
+from Madame Taverneau&mdash;who as yet knows nothing of my marriage or
+departure from Paris, and will not know, until a year has elapsed, of
+the fortune I have settled upon her&mdash;I learned that M. de Meilhan left
+Havre and came direct to Paris. His mother did not tell him that I had
+gone with her to bring him home. When she found that her own influence
+was sufficient to detain him in France, she was silent as to my share in
+the journey. I thank her for it, as I greatly prefer he should remain
+ignorant of the foolish idea I had of sacrificing myself at his shrine
+in order to make his mother happy. But what alarms me is that she keeps
+him in Paris because she knows that he will learn the truth at
+Richeport, and because she hopes that the gayeties around him will more
+quickly make him forget this love that so interfered with her ambitious
+projects. So Edgar <i>was</i> in Paris the day of my wedding ... and perhaps
+... but no, who could have told him anything? I lived three miles from
+the parish where I was married.... It could not have been he ... and yet
+I fear that man.... I remember with what bitterness and spite he spoke
+to me of Raymond, in a letter, filled with unjust reproaches, that he
+wrote me three days after my departure from Richeport. In this letter,
+which I immediately burned, he told me that M. de Villiers was engaged
+to be married to his cousin. O how wretched this information made me! It
+had been broken off years ago, but M. de Villiers thought the engagement
+still existed; he spoke of it as a tie that would prevent his friend
+from indulging in any pretensions to my favor; and yet what malevolence
+there was in his praise of him, what jealous fear in his insolent
+security! How ingenuously he said: &quot;Since I have no cause to fear him,
+why do I hate him?&quot; I now remember this hatred, and it frightens me.
+Aided by Roger he will soon know all; he will discover that Irene de
+Chateaudun and Louise Gu&eacute;rin are the same person, and then two furious
+men will demand an explanation of my trifling with their feelings and
+reproach me with the duplicity of my conduct.... Valentine, do you think
+they could possibly act thus? Valentine! do you think these two men, who
+have so shamefully insulted my memory, so grossly betrayed me and proved
+themselves disgracefully faithless, would dare lay any claims to my
+love? Alas! in spite of the absurdity of such a supposition, Heaven
+knows they are fully capable of acting thus; men in love have such
+relaxed morality, such elastic consciences!</p>
+
+<p>Under pretext of imaginary ungovernable passions, they indulge, without
+compunction, in falsehood, duplicity and the desecration of every
+virtue!... and yet think a pure love can condone and survive such
+unpardonable wrongs. They lightly weigh the tribute due to the
+refinement of a woman's heart. Their devotion is characterized by a
+singular variety. The loyal love of noble women is sacrificed to please
+the whims of those unblushing creatures who pursue such men with
+indelicate attentions and enslave them by flattering their inordinate
+vanity, and they, to preserve their self-love unhurt, pierce and
+mortally wound the generous hearts that live upon their affection and
+revere their very names&mdash;these they strike without pity and without
+remorse. And then when the tender love falls from these broken hearts,
+like water from a shattered vase, never to be recovered, they are
+astonished, uneasy, ... they have broken the heart filled with love, and
+now, with stupid surprise and pretended innocence, they ask what has
+become of the love!... they cowardly murdered it, and are indignant that
+it dared to die beneath their cruel blows. But why dwell upon Edgar and
+his anger and hatred, of Roger and his fury? Fate needs not these
+terrible instruments to destroy our happiness; the slightest accident,
+the most trifling imprudence can serve its cruelty; every thing will
+assist it in taking vengeance upon a man revelling in too much love, too
+much love. The cold north wind blowing at night upon his heated brow may
+strike him with the chill of death; the bridge may perfidiously break
+beneath his feet and cast him in the surging torrent below; a lofty
+rock, shivered by the winter frost, may fall upon him and crush him to
+atoms; his favorite horse may be frightened at a shadow and hurl him
+over the threatening precipice ... that child playing in front of my
+window might carelessly strike him on the temple with one of those
+pebbles and kill him....</p>
+
+<p>Oh! Valentine, I am not laboring under an illusion. I see danger; the
+world revolts against pure, unalloyed happiness; society pursues it as
+an offence; nature curses it because of its perfection; to her every
+perfect thing seems a monstrosity not to be borne&mdash;directly she suspects
+its existence, she gives the alarm and the elements unite in conspiring
+against this happiness; the thunder-bolt is warned and holds itself in
+readiness to burst over the radiant brow. With human beings all the evil
+passions are simultaneously aroused: secret notice, unknown voices warn
+the envious people of every nation that there is somewhere a great joy
+to be disturbed; that in some corner of the earth two beings exist who
+sought and found each other&mdash;two hearts that love with ideal equality
+and intoxicating harmony.... Chance itself, that careless railer, is
+overbearing and jealous towards them; it is angry with these two beings
+who voluntarily sought and conscientiously chose each other without
+waiting for it to confer happiness upon them&mdash;it discovers their names,
+that never knows the name of any one, and pursues them with its
+animosity; it recovers its sight in order to recognise and strike them.
+I feel that we are too happy! Death stares us in the face! My soul
+shudders with fear! On earth we are not allowed to taste of supreme
+delight&mdash;pure, unalloyed happiness&mdash;to feel at once that ecstasy of soul
+and delirium of passion&mdash;that pride of love and loftiness of a pure
+conscience ... burning joys are only permitted to culpable love. When
+two unfortunate beings, bound by detested ties, meet and mutually
+recognise the ideals of their dreams, they are allowed to love each
+other because they have met too late, because this immense joy, this
+finding one's ideal, is poisoned by remorse and shame. Their criminal
+happiness can remain undisturbed because it is criminal; it has the
+conditions of life, frailty and misery; it bears the impress of sin,
+therefore it belongs to a common humanity.... But find ideal bliss in a
+legitimate union, find it in time to welcome it without shame and
+cherish it without remorse; be happy as a lover and honored as a wife;
+to experience the wild ardor of love and preserve the charming freshness
+of purity&mdash;to delight in obeying the equitable law of the most
+harmonious love by being alternately a slave and a queen; to call upon
+him who calls upon you; seek him who seeks you; love him who loves
+you&mdash;in a word, to be the idol of your idol!... it is too much, it
+surpasses human happiness, it is stealing fire from heaven&mdash;it is, I
+tell you, incurring the punishment of death!</p>
+
+<p>In my enthusiasm I already stand upon the boundary of the true world&mdash;I
+have a glimpse of paradise; earth recedes from my gaze; I understand
+and expect death, because life has bid me a last farewell&mdash;the
+exaltation that I feel belongs to the future of the blessed; it is a
+triumphant dying&mdash;that final and supremely happy thought that tells me
+my soul is about to take its flight.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! merciful God! my brain is on fire! and why do I write you these
+incoherent thoughts! Valentine, you see all excessive emotions are
+alike; the delirium of joy resembles the frenzy of despair. Having
+attained the summit of happiness, what do we see at our feet?... a
+yawning abyss!... we have lost the steep path by which we so painfully
+reached the top; once there, we have no means of gradually descending
+the declivity ... from so great a height we cannot walk, we fall!</p>
+
+<p>There is but one way of preserving happiness&mdash;abjure it&mdash;never welcome
+it; sometimes it delights in visiting ungrateful people. Vainly do I
+seek to reassure myself by expiation, by sacrifices; during these eight
+days I have been lavishly giving gold in the neighborhood, I have
+endowed all the children, fed the poor, enriched the hospitals; I would
+willingly ruin myself by generous charity, by magnificent donations&mdash;I
+would cheerfully give my entire fortune to obtain rest and peace for my
+troubled mind.</p>
+
+<p>Every morning I enter the empty church and fervently pray that God will
+permit me by some great sacrifice to insure my happiness. I implore him
+to inflict upon me hard trials, great humiliations, intense pain,
+sufferings beyond any strength, but to have mercy upon my poor heart and
+spare me Raymond ... to leave me a little longer Raymond, ...</p>
+
+<p>Raymond and his love!</p>
+
+<p>But these tears and prayers will be vain&mdash;Raymond himself, without
+understanding his presentiments, instinctively feels that his end is
+approaching. His purity of soul, his magnanimity, the unexampled
+disinterestedness of his conduct, are indications&mdash;these sublime virtues
+are symptoms of death&mdash;this generosity, this disinterestedness are tacit
+adieux. Raymond possesses none of the weaknesses of men destined for a
+long life; he has indulged in none of the wicked passions of the age&mdash;he
+has kept himself apart, observing but not sharing the actions of men. He
+regards life as if he were a pilgrim, and takes no part in any of its
+turmoils&mdash;he has not bargained for any of its disenchantments; his great
+pride, his life-long, unbending loyalty have concealed a mournful
+secret; he has stood aloof because he was convinced of his untimely end.
+He feels self-reliant because he will only have a short time to
+struggle; he is joyous and proud, because he looks upon the victory as
+already won ... I weep as I admire him.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! am I to regard with sorrow and fear these noble qualities&mdash;these
+seductive traits that won my love? Is it because he deserves to be loved
+more than any being on earth has ever been loved, that I tremble for
+him! Valentine, does not such an excess of happiness excite your pity?</p>
+
+<p>Ever since early this morning, I have been suffering torment&mdash;Raymond
+left me for a few hours&mdash;he went to Gu&eacute;ret; one of his cousins returning
+from the waters of N&eacute;ris was to pass through there at ten o'clock, and
+requested him to meet her at the hotel. Nothing is more natural, and I
+have no reason to be alarmed&mdash;yet this short absence disturbs me as much
+as if it were to last years&mdash;it makes me sad&mdash;it is the first time we
+have been separated so long a time during these eight blissful days.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! how I love him, and how heavy hangs time on my hands during his
+absence!</p>
+
+<p>One thought comforts me in my present state of exaltation; I am unequal
+to any great misfortune.... A fatal piece of news, a painful sight, a
+false alarm ... a certain dreaded name mingled with one that I
+adore&mdash;ah! a false report, although immediately contradicted, would
+kill me on the spot&mdash;I could not live the two minutes it would require
+to hear the denial&mdash;the truth happily demonstrated. This thought
+consoles me&mdash;if my happiness is to end, I shall die with it.</p>
+
+<p>Valentine, it is two o'clock! Oh! why does Raymond not return? My heart
+sinks&mdash;my hand trembles so that I can scarcely hold the pen&mdash;my eyes
+grow dim.... What can detain him? He left at eight, and should have
+returned long ago. I know well that the relative he went to see might
+have been delayed on the road&mdash;she may have mistaken the time, women are
+so ignorant about travelling&mdash;they never understand the timetables.</p>
+
+<p>All this tells me I am wrong to be uneasy&mdash;and yet ... I shudder at
+every sound.... his horse is so fiery.... I am astonished that Raymond
+did not let me read his relative's letter; he said he had left it on his
+table ... but I looked on the table and it was not there. I wished to
+read the letter so as to find out the exact time he was to be at Gu&eacute;ret,
+and then I could tell when to expect him home.</p>
+
+<p>But this relative is the mother of the girl he was to have married....
+perhaps she still loves him.... is she with her mother?... Ah! what an
+absurd idea! I am so uneasy that I divert my mind by being jealous&mdash;to
+avoid thinking of possible dangers, I conjure up impossible ones.... Oh!
+my God! it is not his love I doubt ... his love equals mine&mdash;it is the
+intensity of his love that frightens me&mdash;it is in this love so pure, so
+perfect, so divine&mdash;in this complete happiness that the danger lies. Is
+it not sinful to idolize one of God's creatures, when this adoration is
+due to God alone&mdash;to devote one's whole existence to a human being, for
+his sake to forget everything else? This is the sin before Heaven ...</p>
+
+<p>Oh! if I could only see him, and once more hear his voice! That blessed
+voice I love so much! How miserable I am!... What agony I suffer!... I
+stifle ... my brain whirls&mdash;my mind is so confused that I cannot think
+... this torture is worse than death ... And then if he should suddenly
+appear before me, what joy!... Oh! I don't wish him to enter the room
+at once&mdash;I would like one minute to prepare myself for the happiness of
+seeing him ... one single moment.... If he were to abruptly enter, I
+would become frantic with joy as I embraced him!</p>
+
+<p>My dear Valentine, what a torment is love!... It is utterly impossible
+for me to support another hour of this agitation. I am sure I have a
+fever&mdash;I shiver with cold&mdash;I burn&mdash;my brain is on fire....</p>
+
+<p>As I write this to you, seated at the window, I eagerly watch the long
+avenue by which he must return.... I write a word ... a whole line so as
+to give him time to approach, hoping I will see him coming when I raise
+my eyes&mdash;.... After writing each line I look again.... nothing appears
+in the distance; I see neither his horse nor the cloud of dust that
+would announce his approach. The clock strikes! three o'clock!...
+Valentine! it is fearful ... hope deserts me ... all is lost ... I feel
+myself dying ... Instinct tells me that some dreadful tragedy, ruinous
+to me, is now enacting on this earth.... Ah! my heart breaks ... I
+suffer torture.... Raymond! Raymond! Valentine! my mother! help!...
+help!... I see a horse rushing up the avenue ... but it is not Raymond's
+... ah! it <i>is</i> his ... but ... I don't see Raymond ... the saddle is
+empty ... God!</p>
+
+<p>This unfinished letter of the Comtesse de Villiers to Madame de Braimes
+bore neither address nor signature.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XL'></a><h2>XL.</h2>
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT <i>to</i> MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN,<br />
+Hotel de Bellevue, Bruxelles (Belgique).<br />
+
+<p>You are now at Brussels, my dear Edgar, at least for my own peace of
+mind I hope so. Although I fear not for you the rigors of the law, still
+I am anxious to know that you are on a safe and hospitable shore.</p>
+
+<p>Criminal trials, even when they have a favorable issue, are injurious.
+In your case it is necessary to keep concealed, await the result of
+public opinion, and let future events regulate your conduct. Besides, as
+there is no law about duelling, you must distrust the courts of justice.
+The day will come when some jury, tired of so many acquittals, will
+agree upon a conviction. Your case may be decided by this jury&mdash;so it is
+only prudent for you to disappear, and abide the issue.</p>
+
+<p>Things have entirely changed during my ten years' absence; all this is
+new to me. Immediately after the duel I obeyed your instructions, and
+went to see your lawyer, Delestong. With the exception of a few
+omissions, I was obliged to relate everything that happened. I must tell
+you exactly what I said and what I left unsaid, so that if we are
+summoned before the court our testimony shall not conflict.</p>
+
+<p>It was unnecessary to relate what passed between us before the duel, so
+I merely said we had drawn lots as to who should be the avenger, and who
+the second; nor did I deem it proper to explain the serious causes of
+the duel, as it would have resulted in a long story, and the bringing in
+of women's names at every turn, an unpardonable thing in a man. I simply
+said the cause was serious, and of a nature to fully justify a deadly
+meeting; that we, Monsieur de Meilhan and myself, left Gu&eacute;ret at six
+o'clock in the morning; when three miles from the town, we left the
+high-road of Limoges and entered that part of the woods called the
+Little Cascade, where we dismounted and awaited the arrival of M. de
+Villiers, who, in a few minutes, rode up to us, accompanied by two
+army-officers as seconds. We exchanged bows at a distance of ten feet,
+but nothing was said until the elder of the officers advanced towards
+me, shook my hand, and drawing me aside, began: &quot;We military men dare
+not refuse to act on this occasion as seconds when summoned by a brave
+man, but we always come with the hope of effecting a reconciliation.
+These young men are hot-headed. There is some pretty woman at the root
+of the difficulty, and they are acting the r&ocirc;les of foolish rivals. The
+day has passed for men to fight about such silly things; it is no longer
+the fashion. Now, cannot we arrange this matter satisfactorily, without
+injuring the pride of these gentlemen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Monsieur,&quot; I replied, &quot;it is with profound regret that I decline making
+any amicable settlement of this affair. Under any other circumstances I
+would share your peaceable sentiments; as it is, we have come here with
+a fixed determination. If you knew&mdash;&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do tell me the provocation&mdash;I am very anxious to learn it,&quot; said the
+officer, interrupting me, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ask what is impossible,&quot; I replied; &quot;nothing could alter our
+determination. We fully made up our minds before coming here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That being the case, monsieur,&quot; said he, &quot;my friend and I will
+withdraw; we decline to countenance a murder.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you retire, captain,&quot; I responded, pressing his hand, &quot;I will also
+leave, and not be answerable for the result&mdash;and what will be the
+consequence? I can assure you, upon my honor, that these gentlemen will
+fight without seconds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The officer bowed and waved his hand, in sign of forced acquiescence.
+After a short pause, he continued: &quot;We have entered upon a very
+distasteful affair, and the sooner it is ended the better. Have they
+decided upon the weapons?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They have decided, monsieur, to draw lots for the choice of arms,&quot; I
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then,&quot; he cried, &quot;there has been no insult given or received; they are
+both in the right and both in the wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Exactly so, captain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose we will have to consent to it. Let us draw for the weapons,
+since it is agreed upon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The lot fell on the sword.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With this weapon,&quot; I said, &quot;all the disadvantages are on the side of M.
+de Meilhan; the skilful fencing of his adversary is celebrated among
+amateurs. He is one of Pons's best scholars.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you brought a surgeon?&quot; said the captain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, monsieur, we left Dr. Gillard in a house near by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As you see, dear Edgar, I shall lay great stress upon the disadvantages
+you labored under in using the sword; and, when necessary, I shall
+express in eloquent terms the agony I felt when I saw your hand, more
+skilful in handling the pen than the sword, hesitatingly grasp the hilt.</p>
+
+<p>I finished my deposition in these words: &quot;When the distance had been
+settled, by casting lots, we handed our principals two swords exactly
+alike; one of the adverse seconds and myself stood three steps off with
+our canes raised in order to separate them at all risk, if necessary, in
+obedience to the characteristically French injunction of the duelling
+code as laid down by M. Chateunvillard.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At the given signal the swords were bravely crossed; Edgar, with the
+boldness of heroic inexperience, bravely attacked his adversary.
+Raymond, compelled to defend himself, was astonished. At this terrible
+moment, when thought paralyzes action, he was absorbed in thought. The
+contest was brief. Edgar's sword, only half parried, pierced his rival's
+heart. The surgeon came to gaze upon a lifeless corpse.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Edgar mounted his horse, rode off and I have not seen him since. Those
+who remained rendered the last offices to the dead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I am obliged to write you these facts, my dear Edgar, not for
+information, but to recall them to you in their exact order; and
+especially, I repeat, in order to avoid contradiction on the
+witness-stand. Now I must write you of what you are ignorant.</p>
+
+<p>I had a duty to fulfil, much more terrible than yours, and I was obliged
+to recall our execrable oath in order to renew courage and strength to
+keep my promise.</p>
+
+<p>Before we had cast lots for the leading part in this duel, we swore to
+go ourselves to the house of this woman and announce to her the issue of
+the combat, if it proved favorable to us. In the delirium of angry
+excitement, filling our burning hearts at the moment, this oath appeared
+to be the most reasonable thing in the world. Our blood boiled with such
+violent hatred against him and her that it seemed just for vengeance,
+with refined cruelty, to step over a corpse and pursue its work ere its
+second victim had donned her widow's robes.</p>
+
+<p>Edgar! Edgar! when I saw that blood flowing, when I saw life and youth
+converted into an inanimate mass of clay, when you left me alone on this
+inanimate theatre of death, my feelings underwent a sudden revolution;
+this moment seemed to age me a half a century, and without lessening my
+hatred, only left me a confused perception of it, with a vague memory
+full of disenchantment and sadness.</p>
+
+<p>The crime was great, it is true, but what a terrible expiation! What
+hellish torture heaped upon him at once! To lose all at the point of the
+sword, all!&mdash;youth, fortune, love, wife, celestial joys, beautiful
+nature and the light of the sun!</p>
+
+<p>However, dear Edgar, I remembered our solemn promise; and as you were
+not here to release me, I was obliged to fulfil it to the letter. And
+then again, shall I say it, this humane consideration did not extend to
+the offending woman; my heart was still filled with a sentiment that has
+no name in the language of the passions!&mdash;A mixture of hatred, love,
+jealousy, scorn and despair.</p>
+
+<p>She was not dead! A man had been sacrificed as a victim upon the altar
+of this goddess: that was all.</p>
+
+<p>Do not women require amusement of this sort?</p>
+
+<p>She would live; to-day, she would weep; to-morrow, seek the common path
+of consolation. One victim is not enough to gratify her cruel vanity!
+She must be quickly consoled, that she might be ready to receive fresh
+sacrifices in her temple.</p>
+
+<p>My heart filled with angry passions awakened by these thoughts, I
+spurred my horse, and hastened in the direction of the house that had
+been described to me the day before. I soon recognised the picturesque
+spot, where this accursed house lay concealed in the midst of beautiful
+trees and smiling waters.</p>
+
+<p>An electric shock must have communicated to you, dear Edgar, the
+oppression of heart I felt at the sight of the landscape. There was the
+history of love in every tree and flower. There was an ineffable record
+in the hedges of the valleys; loving caresses in the murmur of the
+water-lilies; ecstasies of lovers in the quivering of the leaves; divine
+intoxication in the exhalations of the wild flowers, and in the lights,
+shadows and gentle breezes under the mysterious alcoves of the trees.
+Oh! how happy they must have been in this paradise! The whole air was
+filled with the life of their love and happiness! There must have been
+present a supernatural and invisible being, who was a jealous witness of
+this wedded bliss, and who made use of your sword to destroy it! So much
+happiness was an offence before heaven. We have been the blind
+instrument of a wrathful spirit. But what mattered death after such a
+day of perfect bliss! After having tasted the most exquisite tenderness
+in the world! When looking at the proud young husband sitting in this
+flowery bower, with the soft starlight revealing his happy face as he
+tenderly and hopefully gazed on his lovely bride, who would not have
+exclaimed with the poet,</p>
+
+&quot;My life for a moment of bliss like this.&quot;<br />
+
+<p>Who would not have welcomed your sword-thrust as the price of a moment's
+duration of such divine joy?</p>
+
+<p>The survivors are the unfortunate ones, because they saw but could not
+taste this happiness.</p>
+
+<p>Infernal Tantalus of the delights of Paradise, because their dream has
+become the reality of another, and lawful vengeance leaves them a
+satisfaction poisoned by remorse!</p>
+
+<p>Come with me, dear Edgar, in my sad pilgrimage to this accursed house,
+and with me behold the closing scene. I left the shade of the woods and
+approached the lawn, that, like an immense terrace of grass and flowers,
+spread before the house. I saw many strange things, and with that
+comprehensive, sweeping glance of feverish excitement; two horses
+covered with foam, their saddles empty and bridles dragging, trampled
+down the flower-borders. One horse was Raymond's, returned riderless!
+Doubtless brought home by the servant who had accompanied him.</p>
+
+<p>Not a face was visible, in the sun, the shade, the orchard, on the
+steps, or at the windows. I observed in the garden two rakes lying on
+some beautiful lilies; they had not been carefully laid down, but
+dropped in the midst of the flowers, on hearing some cry of distress
+from the house.</p>
+
+<p>One window was open; the rich curtains showed it to be the room of a
+woman; the carelessly pushed open blinds proved that an anxious watcher
+had passed long hours of feverish expectation at the window. A desolate
+silence reigned around the house; this silence was fearful, and at an
+hour of the day when all is life and animation, in harmony with the
+singing birds and rippling waters.</p>
+
+<p>I ascended the steps, mechanically noticing the beautiful flowers
+clustering about the railing; flowers take a part in every catastrophe
+of life. On the threshold, I forgot myself to think of you, to live with
+your spirit, to walk with your feet, for my own resolution would have
+failed me at this fatal moment.</p>
+
+<p>In the vestibule I looked through a half-open folding-door, and, in the
+funereal darkness, saw some peasantry kneeling and praying. No head was
+raised to look at me. I slowly entered the room with my eyes downcast,
+and lids swollen with tears I forcibly restrained. In a recess, lying on
+a sofa, was something white and motionless, the sight of which froze my
+blood.... It was&mdash;I cannot write her name, Edgar&mdash;it was she. My
+troubled gaze could not discover whether dead or living. She seemed to
+be sleeping, with her hair lying carelessly about the pillow, in the
+disorder of a morning repose.</p>
+
+<p>Near by was a young man-servant, his vest spotted with blood; with face
+buried in his hands he was weeping bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>Near her head a window was raised to admit the fresh air. This window
+opened on an inner courtyard, very gloomy on account of the masses of
+leaves that seemed to drop from the walls and fill it with sombreness.</p>
+
+<p>Two men dressed in black, with faces more melancholy-looking than their
+garments, were in this courtyard, talking in low tones; through the
+window I could only see their heads and shoulders. I merely glanced at
+them; my eyes, my sorrow, my hatred, my love were all concentrated upon
+this woman. Absorbed by a heart-rending gaze, an instinct rather than
+idea rooted me to the spot.</p>
+
+<p>I waited for her to recover her senses, to open her eyes, not to add to
+her anguish by a word or look of mine, but to let her see me standing
+there, a living, silent accusation. Some farmer-boys entered with
+lighted candles, a cross and basin of holy-water. In the disorder of my
+mind, I understood nothing, but slowly walked out on the terrace, with
+the vague idea of breathing a little fresh air and returning.</p>
+
+<p>The serenity of the sky, the brightness of the sun, the green trees, the
+fragrant flowers, the songs of the birds, offered an ironical contrast
+to the scene of mourning. Often does nature refuse to countenance human
+sorrows, because they are ungrateful to her goodness. She creates the
+wonders of heaven to make us happy; we evoke the secrets of hell to
+torture our souls and bodies. Nature is right to scorn our
+self-inflicted sorrows.</p>
+
+<p>You see, my dear Edgar, that I make you share all of my torments, all of
+my gloomy reflections. I make you live over this hour, minute by minute,
+agony on agony, as I suffered it myself.</p>
+
+<p>I stood aside under a tree, waiting I know not for what; one of the men
+in black, I had seen from the window, came down the steps of the terrace
+and advanced towards me. I made some confused remark; the situation
+supplied it with intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are a relation, a friend, an acquaintance?&quot; he said, inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, monsieur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a terrible misfortune,&quot; he added, clasping his hands and bowing
+his head; &quot;or rather say two terrible misfortunes in one day; the poor
+woman is also dead.&quot; ...</p>
+
+<p>Like one in a dream I heard the latter remark, and I now transcribe it
+to you as my impression of something that occurred long, long ago,
+although I know it took place yesterday.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, dead,&quot; he went on to say; &quot;we were called in too late. Bleeding
+would have relieved the brain. It was a violent congestion; we have
+similar cases during our practice. An immense loss to the community. A
+woman who was young, beautiful as an angel, and charity itself....
+Dead!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked up, raised his hand to heaven, and walked rapidly away.</p>
+
+<p>I am haunted by a memory that nothing can dispel. This spectre doubtless
+follows you too, dear Edgar. It is a mute, eloquent image fashioned in
+the empty air, like the outline of a grave; a phantom that the sun
+drives not away, pursuing me by day and by night. It is Raymond's face
+as he stood opposite to you on the field of death, his brow, his eye,
+his lips, his whole bearing breathing the noblest sentiments that were
+ever buried in an undeserved grave. This heroic young man met us with
+the fatal conviction that his last hour had come; he felt towards us
+neither hatred nor contempt; he obeyed the inexorable exigencies of the
+hour, without accusation, without complaint.</p>
+
+<p>The silence of Raymond clothed in sublime delicacy his friendship for
+us, and his love for her. His manner expressed neither the resignation
+that calls for pity nor the pride that provokes passion; his countenance
+shone with modest serenity, the offspring of a grand resolve.</p>
+
+<p>In a few days of conjugal bliss he had wandered through the flowery
+paths of human felicity; he had exhausted the measure of divine
+beatitude allotted to man on earth, and he stood nerved for the
+inevitable and bloody expiation of his happiness.</p>
+
+<p>All this was written on Raymond's face.</p>
+
+<p>Edgar! Edgar! we were too relentless. Why should honor, the noblest of
+our virtues, be the parent of so much remorse?</p>
+
+<p>Adieu.</p>
+
+<p>ROGER DE MONBERT.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='XLI'></a><h2>XLI.</h2>
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN <i>to the</i> PRINCE DE MONBERT,<br />
+St. Dominique Street, Paris (France).<br />
+
+<p>Do not be uneasy, dear Roger; I have reached the frontier without being
+pursued; the news of the fatal duel had not yet spread abroad. I thank
+you, all the same, for the letter which you have written me, and in
+which you trace the line of conduct I should pursue in case of arrest.
+The moment a magistrate interferes, the clearest and least complicated
+affair assumes an appearance of guilt. However, it would have been all
+the same to me if I had been arrested and condemned. I fled more on your
+account than on my own. No human interest can ever again influence me;
+Raymond's death has ended my life!</p>
+
+<p>What an inexplicable enigma is the human heart! When I saw Raymond
+facing me upon the ground, an uncontrollable rage took possession of me.
+The heavenly resignation of his face seemed infamous and finished
+hypocrisy. I said to myself: &quot;He apes the angel, the wretch!&quot; and I
+regretted that custom interposed a sword between him and my hatred. It
+seemed so coldly ceremonious, I would have liked to tear his bosom open
+with my nails and gnaw his heart out with my teeth. I knew that I would
+kill him; I already saw the red lips of his wound outlined upon his
+breast by the pale finger of death. When my steel crossed his, I
+attempted neither thrusts nor parries. I had forgotten the little
+fencing I knew. I fought at random, almost with my eyes shut; but had my
+adversary been St. George or Grisier, the result would have been the
+same.</p>
+
+<p>When Raymond fell I experienced a profound astonishment; something
+within me broke which no hand will ever be able to restore! A gulf
+opened before me which can never be filled! I stood there, gloomily
+gazing upon the purple stream that flowed from the narrow wound,
+fascinated in spite of myself by this spectacle of immobility succeeding
+action, death succeeding life, without shade or transition; this young
+man, who a moment before was radiant with life and hope, now lay
+motionless before me, as impossible to resuscitate as Cheops under his
+pyramid. I was rooted to the spot, unconsciously repeating to myself
+Lady Macbeth's piteous cry: &quot;Who would have thought the man to have had
+so much blood in him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They led me away; I allowed them to put me into the carriage like a
+thing without strength or motion. The excitement of anger was succeeded
+by an icy calmness; I had neither memory, thought nor plans; I was
+annihilated; I would have liked to stop, throw myself on the ground and
+lie there for ever. I felt no remorse, I had not even the consciousness
+of my crime; the thought that I was a murderer had not yet had time to
+fix itself in my mind; I felt no connection whatever with the deed that
+I had done, and asked myself if it was I, Edgar de Meilhan, who had
+killed Raymond! It seemed as if I had been only a looker-on.</p>
+
+<p>As to Irene, the innocent cause of this horrible catastrophe, I scarcely
+thought of her; she only appeared to me a faint phantom seen in another
+existence! My love, my longings, my jealousy had all vanished. One drop
+of Raymond's warm blood had stilled my mad vehemence. She is dead, poor
+darling, it is the only happiness that I could wish her; her death
+lessens my despair. If she lived, no torture, no penance could be fierce
+enough to expiate my crime! No hermit of the desert would lash his
+quivering flesh more pitilessly than I!</p>
+
+<p>Rest in peace, dear Louise, for you will always be Louise to me, even in
+heaven, which I shall never reach, for I have killed my brother and
+belong to the race of Cain; I do not pity thee, for thou hast clasped in
+thy arms the dream of thy heart. Thou hast been happy; and happiness is
+a crime punishable on earth by death, as is genius and divinity.</p>
+
+<p>You will forgive me! for I caught a glimpse of the angel through the
+woman. I also sought my ideal and found it. O beautiful loving being!
+why did your faith fail you, why did you doubt the love you inspired!
+Alas! I thought you a faithless coquette; you were conscientious; your
+heart was a treasure that you could not reclaim, and you wished to
+bestow it worthily! Now I know all; we always know all when it is too
+late, when the seal of the irreparable is fixed upon events! You came to
+Havre, poor beauty, to find me, and fled believing yourself deceived;
+you could not read my despair through my fictitious joy; you took my
+mask for my real countenance, the intoxication of my body for the
+oblivion of my soul! In the midst of my orgie, at the very moment when
+my foot pressed on the Ethiop's body, your azure eyes illumined my
+dream, your blonde tresses rippled before me like golden waters of
+Paradise; thoughts of you filled my mind like a vase with divine
+essence! never have I loved you better; I loved you better than the
+condemned man, standing on the last step of the scaffold, loves life,
+than Satan loves heaven from the depths of hell! My heart, if opened,
+would have exhibited your name written in all its fibres, like the grain
+of wood which runs through the whole tree. Every particle of my being
+belonged to you; thoughts of you pervaded me, in every sense, as light
+passes through the air. Your life was substituted for mine; I no longer
+possessed either free will or wish.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment you paused upon the brink of the abyss, and started back
+affrighted; for no woman can gaze, unflinchingly, into the depths of
+man's heart; precipices always have frightened you&mdash;dear angel, as if
+you had not wings! If you had paused an instant longer, you would have
+seen far, far in the gloom in a firmament of bright stars, your adored
+image.</p>
+
+<p>Vain regrets! useless lamentation! The damp and dark earth covers her
+delicate form! Her beautiful eyes, her pure brow, her fascinating smile
+we shall never see again&mdash;never&mdash;never&mdash;if we live thousands of years.
+Every hour that passes but widens the distance between us. Her beauty
+will fade in the tomb, her name be lost in oblivion! For soon we shall
+have disappeared, pale forms bending over a marble tomb!</p>
+
+<p>It is very sad, sinister and terrible, but yet it is best so. See her in
+the arms of another: Roger! what have we done to God to be damned
+alive! I can pity Raymond, since death separates him from Louise. May he
+forgive me! He will, for he was a grand, a noble, a perfect friend. We
+both failed to appreciate him, as a matter of course; folly and baseness
+are alone comprehended here below!</p>
+
+<p>We ran a desperate race for happiness! One alone attained it&mdash;dead!</p>
+
+<p>EDGAR DE MEILHAN.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>THE END.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cross of Berny, by Emile de Girardin
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cross of Berny, by Emile de Girardin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Cross of Berny
+
+Author: Emile de Girardin
+
+Release Date: August 15, 2004 [EBook #13191]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CROSS OF BERNY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CROSS OF BERNY
+
+OR
+
+IRENE'S LOVERS
+
+BY MADAME EMILE DE GIRARDIN
+MM. THEOPHILE GAUTIER
+JULES SANDEAU AND MERY
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.
+
+
+Literary partnerships have often been tried, but very rarely with
+success in the more imaginative branches of literature. Occasionally two
+minds have been found to supplement each other sufficiently to produce
+good joint writing, as in the works of MM. Erckman-Chatrian; but when
+the partnership has included more than two, it has almost invariably
+proved a failure, even when composed of individually the brightest
+intellects, and where the highest hopes have been entertained. Standing
+almost if not quite alone, in contrast with these failures of the past,
+THE CROSS OF BERNY is the more remarkable; and has achieved the success
+not merely of being the simply harmonious joint work of four individual
+minds,--but of being in itself, and entirely aside from its interest as
+a literary curiosity, a _great book_.
+
+A high rank, then, is claimed for it not upon its success as a literary
+partnership, for that at best would but excite a sort of curious
+interest, but upon its intrinsic merit as a work of fiction. The spirit
+of rivalry in which it was undertaken was perhaps not the best guarantee
+of harmony in the tone of the whole work, but it has certainly added
+materially to the wit and brilliancy of the letters, while harmony has
+been preserved by much tact and skill. No one of its authors could alone
+have written THE CROSS OF BERNY--together, each one has given us his
+best, and their joint effort will long live to their fame.
+
+The shape in which it appears, as a correspondence between four
+characters whose names are the pseudonyms of the four authors of the
+book, although at first it may seem to the reader a little awkward, will
+upon reflection be seen to be wisely chosen, since it allows to each of
+the prominent characters an individuality otherwise very difficult of
+attainment. In this way also any differences of style which there may
+be, tend rather to heighten the effect, and to increase the reality of
+the characters.
+
+The title under which the original French edition appeared has been
+retained in the translation, although since its applicability depends
+upon a somewhat local allusion, the general reader may possibly fail to
+appreciate it.
+
+
+
+
+ORIGINAL PREFACE TO THE FRENCH EDITION.
+
+
+The Cross of Berny was, it will be remembered, a brilliant tourney,
+where Madame de Girardin (nee Delphine Gay), Theophile Gautier, Jules
+Sandeau and Mery, broke lances like valiant knights of old.
+
+We believe we respond to the general wish by adding to the _Bibliotheque
+Nouvelle_ this unique work, which assumed and will ever retain a high
+position among the literary curiosities of the day.
+
+Not feeling called upon to decide who is the victor in the tilt, we
+merely lift the pseudonymous veil concealing the champions.
+
+The letters signed Irene de Chateaudun are by Madame de Girardin.
+  "     "      "   Edgar de Meilhan      "    M. Theophile Gautier.
+  "     "      "   Raymond de Villiers   "    M. Jules Sandeau.
+  "     "      "   Roger de Monbert      "    M. Mery.
+
+Who are recognised as the four most brilliant of our celebrated
+contemporaneous authors.--EDITOR.
+
+
+
+
+CROSS OF BERNY.
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture,
+GRENOBLE (Isere).
+
+PARIS, May 16th, 18--.
+
+You are a great prophetess, my dear Valentino. Your predictions are
+verified.
+
+Thanks to my peculiar disposition, I am already in the most deplorably
+false position that a reasonable mind and romantic heart could ever have
+contrived.
+
+With you, naturally and instinctively, I have always been sincere;
+indeed it would be difficult to deceive one whom I have so often seen by
+a single glance read the startled conscience, and lead it from the ways
+of insolence and shame back into the paths of rectitude.
+
+It is to you I would confide all my troubles; your counsel may save me
+ere it be too late.
+
+You must not think me absurd in ascribing all my unhappiness to what is
+popularly regarded as "a piece of good luck."
+
+Governed by my weakness, or rather by my fatal judgment, I have plighted
+my troth!... Good Heavens! is it really true that I am engaged to Prince
+de Monbert?
+
+If you knew the prince you would laugh at my sadness, and at the
+melancholy tone in which I announce this intelligence.
+
+Monsieur de Monbert is the most witty and agreeable man in Paris; he is
+noble-hearted, generous and ...in fact fascinating!... and I love him!
+He alone pleases me; in his absence I weary of everything; in his
+presence I am satisfied and happy--the hours glide away uncounted; I
+have perfect faith in his good heart and sound judgment, and proudly
+recognise his incontestable superiority--yes, I admire, respect, and, I
+repeat it, love him!...
+
+Yet, the promise I have made to dedicate my life to him, frightens me,
+and for a month I have had but one thought--to postpone this marriage I
+wished for--to fly from this man whom I have chosen!...
+
+I question my heart, my experience, my imagination, for an answer to
+this inexplicable contradiction; and to interpret so many fears, find
+nothing but school-girl philosophy and poetic fancies, which you will
+excuse because you love me, and I _know_ my imaginary sufferings will at
+least awaken pity in your sympathetic breast.
+
+Yes, my dear Valentine, I am more to be pitied now, than I was in the
+days of my distress and desolation. I, who so courageously braved the
+blows of adversity, feel weak and trembling under the weight of a too
+brilliant fortune.
+
+This happy destiny for which I alone am responsible, alarms me more than
+did the bitter lot that was forced upon me one year ago.
+
+The actual trials of poverty exhaust the field of thought and prevent us
+from nursing imaginary cares, for when we have undergone the torture of
+our own forebodings, struggled with the impetuosity and agony of a
+nature surrendered to itself, we are disposed to look almost with relief
+on tangible troubles, and to end by appreciating the cares of poverty as
+salutary distractions from the sickly anxieties of an unemployed mind.
+
+Oh! believe me to be serious, and accuse me not of comic-opera
+philosophy, my dear Valentine! I feel none of that proud disdain for
+importunate fortune that we read of in novels; nor do I regret "my
+pretty boat," nor "my cottage by the sea;" here, in this beautiful
+drawing-room of the Hotel de Langeac, writing to you, I do not sigh for
+my gloomy garret in the Marais, where my labors day and night were most
+tiresome, because a mere parody of the noblest arts, an undignified
+labor making patience and courage ridiculous, a cruel game which we play
+for life while cursing it.
+
+No! I regret not this, but I do regret the indolence, the idleness of
+mind succeeding such trivial exertions. For then there were no
+resolutions to make, no characters to study, and, above all, no
+responsibility to bear, nothing to choose, nothing to change.
+
+I had but to follow every morning the path marked out by necessity the
+evening before.
+
+If I were able to copy or originate some hundred designs; if I possessed
+sufficient carmine or cobalt to color some wretched
+engravings--worthless, but fashionable--which I must myself deliver on
+the morrow; if I could succeed in finding some new patterns for
+embroidery and tapestry, I was content--and for recreation indulged at
+evenings in the sweetest, that is most absurd, reveries.
+
+Revery then was a rest to me, now it is a labor, and a dangerous labor
+when too often resorted to; good thoughts then came to assist me in my
+misery; now, vexatious presentiments torment my happiness. Then the
+uncertainty of my future made me mistress of events. I could each day
+choose a new destiny, and new adventures. My unexpected and undeserved
+misfortune was so complete that I had nothing more to dread and
+everything to hope for, and experienced a vague feeling of gratitude for
+the ultimate succor that I confidently expected.
+
+I would pass long hours gazing from my window at a little light shining
+from the fourth-story window of a distant house. What strange
+conjectures I made, as I silently watched the mysterious beacon!
+
+Sometimes, in contemplating it, I recalled the questions addressed by
+Childe Harold to the tomb of Cecilia Metella, asking the cold marble if
+she who rested there were young and beautiful, a dark-eyed,
+delicate-featured woman, whose destiny was that reserved by Heaven for
+those it loves; or was she a venerable matron who had outlived her
+charms, her children and her kindred?
+
+So I also questioned this solitary light:
+
+To what distressed soul did it lend its aid? Some anxious mother
+watching and praying beside her sick child, or some youthful student
+plunging with stern delight into the arcana of science, to wrest from
+the revealing spirits of the night some luminous truth?
+
+But while the poet questioned death and the past, I questioned the
+living present, and more than once the distant beacon seemed to answer
+me. I even imagined that this busy light flickered in concert with mine,
+and that they brightened and faded in unison.
+
+I could only see it through a thick foliage of trees, for a large garden
+planted with poplars, pines and sycamores separated the house where I
+had taken refuge from the tall building whence the beacon shone for me
+night after night.
+
+As I could never succeed in finding the points of the compass, I was
+ignorant of the exact locality of the house, or even on what street it
+fronted, and knew nothing of its occupants. But still this light was a
+friend; it spoke a sympathetic language to my eyes--it said: "Courage!
+you do not suffer alone; behind these trees and under those stars there
+is one who watches, labors, dreams." And when the night was majestic and
+beautiful, when the morn rose slowly in the azure sky, like a radiant
+host offered by the invisible hand of God to the adoration of the
+faithful who pray, lament and die by night; when these ever-new
+splendors dazzled my troubled soul; when I felt myself seized with that
+poignant admiration which makes solitary hearts find almost grief in
+joys that cannot be shared, it seemed to me that a dear voice came to
+calm my excitement, and exclaimed, with fervor, "Is not the night
+beautiful? What happiness in enjoying it together!"
+
+When the nightingale, deceived by the silence of the deserted spot, and
+attracted by these dark shades, became a Parisian for a few days,
+rejuvenating with his vernal songs the old echoes of the city, again it
+seemed that the same voice whispered softly through the trembling
+leaves: "He sings, come listen!"
+
+So the sad nights glided peacefully away, comforted by these foolish
+reveries.
+
+Then I invoked my dear ideal, beloved shadow, protector of every honest
+heart, proud dream, a perfect choice, a jealous love sometimes making
+all other love impossible! Oh, my beautiful ideal! Must I then say
+farewell? Now I no longer dare to invoke thee!...
+
+But what folly! Why am I so silly as to permit the remembrance of an
+ideal to haunt me like a remorse? Why do I suffer it to make me unjust
+towards noble and generous qualities that I should worthily appreciate?
+
+Do not laugh at me, Valentine, when I assure you that my greatest
+distress is that my lover does not resemble in any respect my ideal, and
+I am provoked that I love him--I cannot deceive myself, the contrast is
+striking--judge for yourself.
+
+You may laugh if you will, but the whole secret of my distress is the
+contrast between these two portraits.
+
+My lover has handsome, intelligent blue eyes--my ideal's eyes are black,
+full of sadness and fire, not the soft, troubadour eye with long
+drooping lids--no! My ideal's glance has none of the languishing
+tenderness of romance, but is proud, powerful, penetrating, the look of
+a thinker, of a great mind yielding to the influence of love, the gaze
+of a hero disarmed by passion!
+
+My lover is tall and slender--my ideal is only a head taller than myself
+... Ah! I know you are laughing at me, Valentine! Well! I sometimes
+laugh at myself....
+
+My lover is frankness personified--my ideal is not a sly knave, but he
+is mysterious; he never utters his thoughts, but lets you divine, or
+rather he speaks to a responsive sentiment in your own bosom.
+
+My lover is what men call "A good fellow," you are intimate with him in
+twenty-four hours.
+
+My ideal is by no means "a good fellow," and although he inspires
+confidence and respect, you are never at ease in his presence, there is
+a graceful dignity in his carriage, an imposing gentleness in his
+manner, that always inspires a kind of fear, a pleasing awe.
+
+You remember, Valentine, when we were very young girls how we were wont
+to ask each other, in reading the annals of the past, what situations
+would have pleased us, what parts we would have liked to play, what
+great emotions we would have wished to experience; and how you pityingly
+laughed at my odd taste.
+
+My dream,_par excellence_, was to die of fear; I never envied with you
+the famed heroines, the sublime shepherdesses who saved their country. I
+envied the timid Esther fainting in the arms of her women at the fierce
+tones of Ahasuerus, and restored to consciousness by the same voice
+musically whispering the fondest words ever inspired by a royal love.
+
+I also admired Semele, dying of fear and admiration at the frowns of a
+wrathful Jove, but her least of all, because I am terrified in a
+thunderstorm.
+
+Well, I am still the same--to love tremblingly is my fondest dream; I do
+not say, like pretty Madame de S., that I can only be captivated by a
+man with the passions of a tiger and the manners of a diplomate, I only
+declare that I cannot understand love without fear.
+
+And yet my lover does not inspire me with the least fear, and against
+all reasoning, I mistrust a love that so little resembles the love I
+imagined.
+
+The strangest doubts trouble me. When Roger speaks to me tenderly; when
+he lovingly calls me his dear Irene, I am troubled, alarmed--I feel as
+if I were deceiving some one, that I am not free, that I belong to
+another. Oh! what foolish scruples! How little do I deserve sympathy!
+You who have known me from my childhood and are interested in my
+happiness, will understand and commiserate my folly, for folly I know it
+to be, and judge myself as severely as you would.
+
+I have resolved to treat these wretched misgivings and childish fears
+as the creations of a diseased mind, and have arranged a plan for their
+cure.
+
+I will go into the country for a short time; good Madame Taverneau
+offers me the hospitality of her house at Pont-de-l'Arche; she knows
+nothing of what has happened during the last six months, and still
+believes me to be a poor young widow, forced to paint fans and screens
+for her daily bread.
+
+I am very much amused at hearing her relate my own story without
+imagining she is talking to the heroine of that singular romance.
+
+Where could she have learned about my sad situation, the minute details
+that I supposed no one knew?
+
+"A young orphan girl of noble birth, at the age of twenty compelled by
+misfortune to change her name and work for her livelihood, is suddenly
+restored to affluence by an accident that carried off all her relatives,
+an immensely rich uncle, his wife and son."
+
+She also said my uncle detested me, which proved that she was well
+informed--only she adds that the young heiress is horribly ugly, which I
+hope is not true!
+
+I will go to Mme. Taverneau and again become the interesting widow of
+Monsieur Albert Guerin, of the Navy.
+
+Perilous widowhood which invited from my dear Mme. Taverneau confidences
+prematurely enlightening, and which Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun had some
+difficulty in forgetting.
+
+Ah! misery is a cruel emancipation! Angelic ignorance, spotless
+innocence of mind is a luxury that poor young girls, even the most
+circumspect, cannot enjoy.
+
+What presence of mind I had to exercise for three long years in order to
+sustain my part!
+
+How often have I felt myself blush, when Mme. Taverneau would say: "Poor
+Albert! he must have adored you."
+
+How often have I had to restrain my laughter, when, in enumerating the
+perfections of her own husband, she would add, with a look of pity: "It
+must distress you to see Charles and me together, our love must recall
+your sad loss."
+
+To these remarks I listened with marvellous self-possession; if comedy
+or acting of any kind were not distasteful to me, I would make a good
+actress.
+
+But now I must finish telling you of my plan. To-morrow I will set out
+ostensibly with my cousin, accompanying her as far as Fontainbleau,
+where she is going to join her daughter, then I will return and hide
+myself in my modest lodging, for a day or two, before going to
+Pont-de-l'Arche.
+
+With regard to my cousin, I must say, people abuse her unjustly; she is
+not very tiresome, this fat cousin of mine; I heard of nothing but her
+absurdities, and was warned against taking up my abode with her and
+choosing her for my chaperone, as her persecutions would drive me
+frantic and our life would be one continuous quarrel. I am happy to say
+that none of these horrors have been realized. We understand each other
+perfectly, and, if I am not married next winter, the Hotel de Langeac
+will still be my home.
+
+Roger, uninformed of my departure, will be furious, which is exactly
+what I want, for from his anger I expect enlightenment, and this is the
+test I will apply. Like all inexperienced people, I have a theory, and
+this theory I will proceed to explain.
+
+If in your analysis of love you seek sincerity, you must apply a little
+judicious discouragement, for the man who loves hopefully, confidently,
+is an enigma.
+
+Follow carefully my line of reasoning; it maybe complicated, laborious,
+but--it is convincing.
+
+All violent love is involuntary hypocrisy.
+
+The more ardent the lover the more artful the man.
+
+The more one loves, the more one lies.
+
+The reason of all this is very simple.
+
+The first symptom of a profound passion is an all-absorbing
+self-abnegation. The fondest dream of a heart really touched, is to make
+for the loved one the most extraordinary and difficult sacrifice.
+
+How hard it is to subdue the temper, or to change one's nature! yet from
+the moment a man loves he is metamorphosed. If a miser, to please he
+will become a spendthrift, and he who feared a shadow, learns to despise
+death. The corrupt Don Juan emulates the virtuous Grandison, and,
+earnest in his efforts, he believes himself to be really reformed,
+converted, purified regenerated.
+
+This happy transformation will last through the hopeful period. But as
+soon as the remodelled pretender shall have a presentiment that his
+metamorphosis is unprofitable; as soon as the implacable voice of
+discouragement shall have pronounced those two magic words, by which
+flights are stayed, thoughts paralyzed, and hopeful hearts deadened,
+"Never! Impossible!" the probation is over and the candidate returns to
+the old idols of graceless, dissolute nature.
+
+The miser is shocked as he reckons the glittering gold he has wasted.
+The quondam hero thinks with alarm of his borrowed valor, and turns pale
+at the sight of his scars.
+
+The roue, to conceal the chagrin of discomfiture, laughs at the promises
+of a virtuous love, calls himself a gay deceiver, great monster, and is
+once more self-complacent.
+
+Freed from restraint, their ruling passions rush to the surface, as when
+the floodgates are opened the fierce torrent sweeps over the field.
+
+These hypocrites will feel for their beloved vices, lost and found
+again, the thirst, the yearning we feel for happiness long denied us.
+And they will return to their old habit, with a voracious eagerness, as
+the convalescent turns to food, the traveller to the spring, the exile
+to his native land, the prisoner to freedom.
+
+Then will reckless despair develop their genuine natures; then, and then
+only, can you judge them.
+
+Ah! I breathe freely now that I have explained my feelings What do you
+think of my views on this profound subject--discouragement in love?
+
+I am confident that this test must sometimes meet with the most
+favorable results. I believe, for example, that with Roger it will be
+eminently successful, for his own character is a thousand times more
+attractive than the one he has assumed to attract me. He would please me
+better if he were less fascinating--his only fault, if it be a fault, is
+his lack of seriousness.
+
+He has travelled too much, and studied different manners and subjects
+too closely, to have that power of judging character, that stock of
+ideas and principles without which we cannot make for ourselves what is
+called a philosophy, that is, a truth of our own.
+
+In the savage and civilized lands he traversed, he saw religions so
+ridiculous, morals so wanton, points of honor so ludicrous, that he
+returned home with an indifference, a carelessness about everything,
+which adds brilliancy to his wit, but lessens the dignity of his love.
+
+Roger attaches importance to nothing--a bitter sorrow must teach him the
+seriousness of life, that everything must not be treated jestingly.
+Grief and trouble are needed to restore his faith.
+
+I hope he will be very unhappy when he hears of my inexplicable flight,
+and I intend returning for the express purpose of watching his grief;
+nothing is easier than to pass several days in Paris _incog_.
+
+My beloved garret remains unrented, and I will there take sly pleasure
+in seeing for myself how much respect is paid to my memory--I very much
+enjoy the novel idea of assisting at my own absence.
+
+But I perceive that my letter is unpardonably long; also that in
+confiding my troubles to you, I have almost forgotten them; and here I
+recognise your noble influence, my dear Valentine; the thought of you
+consoles and encourages me. Write soon, and your advice will not be
+thrown away. I confess to being foolish, but am sincerely desirous of
+being cured of my folly. My philosophy does not prevent my being open to
+conviction, and willing to sacrifice my logic to those I love.
+
+Kiss my godchild for me, and give her the pretty embroidered dress I
+send with this. I have trimmed it with Valenciennes to my heart's
+content. Oh! my friend, how overjoyed I am to once more indulge in
+these treasured laces, the only real charm of grandeur, the only
+unalloyed gift of fortune. Fine country seats are a bore, diamonds a
+weight and a care, fast horses a danger; but lace! without whose
+adornment no woman is properly dressed--every other privation is
+supportable; but what is life without lace?
+
+I have tried to please your rustic taste in the wagon-load of newly
+imported plants, one of which is a _Padwlonia_ (do not call it a
+Polonais), and is now acclimated in France; its leaves are a yard in
+circumference, and it grows twenty inches a month--malicious people
+say it freezes in the winter, but don't you believe the slander.
+
+Adieu, adieu, my Valentine, write to me, a line from you is happiness.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+My address is,
+Madame Albert Guerin,
+Care Mme. Taverneau, Pont de l'Arche,
+Department of the Eure.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ M. DE MEILHAN,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure.)
+
+Paris, May 19th, 18--.
+
+Dear Edgar,--It cannot be denied that friendship is the refuge of
+adversity--the roof that shelters from the storm.
+
+In my prosperous days I never wrote you. Happiness is selfish. We fear
+to distress a friend who may be in sorrow, by sending him a picture of
+our own bliss.
+
+I am oppressed with a double burden; your absence, and my misfortunes.
+
+This introduction will, doubtless, impress you with the idea that I
+wander about Paris with dejected visage and neglected dress. Undeceive
+yourself. It is one of my principles never to expose my sacred griefs to
+the gaze of an unsympathetic world, that only looks to laugh.
+
+Pity I regard as an insult to my pride: the comforter humiliates the
+inconsolable mourner; besides, there are sorrows that all pretend to
+understand, but which none really appreciate. It is useless, then, to
+enumerate one's maladies to a would-be physician; and the world is
+filled with those who delight in the miseries of others; who follow the
+sittings of courts and luxuriate in heart-rending pictures of man's
+injustice to his fellow.
+
+I do not care to serve as a relaxation to this class of mankind, who,
+since the abolition of the circus and amphitheatre, are compelled to
+pick up their pleasure wherever they can find it; seeking the best
+places to witness the struggle of Christian fortitude with adversity.
+
+But every civilized age has its savage manners, and, knowing this, I
+resemble in public the favorite of fortune. I simulate content, and my
+face is radiant with deceit.
+
+The idle and curious of the Boulevard Italien, the benches of the circus
+would hardly recognise me as the gladiator struggling with an
+iron-clawed monster--they are all deceived.
+
+I feel a repugnance, dear Edgar, to entertaining you with a recital of
+my mysterious sorrow. I would prefer to leave you in ignorance, or let
+you divine them, but I explain to prevent your friendship imagining
+afflictions that are not mine.
+
+In the first place, to reassure you, my fortune has not suffered during
+my absence. On my return to Paris, my agent dazzled me with the picture
+of my wealth.
+
+"Happy man!" said he; "a great name, a large fortune, health that has
+defied the fires of the tropics, the ice of the poles,--and only
+thirty!" The notary reasoned well from a notary's stand-point. If I were
+to reduce my possessions to ingots, they would certainly balance a
+notary's estimate of happiness; therefore, fear nothing for my fortune.
+
+Nor must you imagine that I grieve over my political and military
+prospects that were lost in the royal storm of '30, when plebeian cannon
+riddled the Tuilleries and shattered a senile crown. I was only sixteen,
+and hardly understood the lamentations of my father, whose daily refrain
+was, "My child, your future is destroyed."
+
+A man's future lies in any honorable career. If I have left the
+epaulettes of my ancestors reposing in their domestic shrine, I can
+bequeath to my children other decorations.
+
+I have just returned from a ten years' campaign against all nations,
+bringing back a marvellous quantity of trophies, but without causing one
+mother to mourn. In the light of a conqueror, Caesar, Alexander, and
+Hannibal pale in comparison, and yet to a certainty my military future
+could not have gained me the epaulettes of these illustrious commanders.
+
+You would not, my dear Edgar, suppose, from the gaiety of this letter,
+that I had passed a frightful night.
+
+You shall see what becomes of life when not taken care of; when there is
+an unguarded moment in the incessant duel that, forced by nature, we
+wage with her from the cradle to the grave.
+
+What a long and glorious voyage I had just accomplished! What dangers I
+escaped! The treacherous sea defeated by a motion of the helm! The
+sirens to whom I turned a deaf ear. The Circes deserted under a baleful
+moon, ere the brutalizing change had come!
+
+I returned to Paris, a man with soul so dead that his country was not
+dear to him--I felt guilty of an unknown crime, but reflection reduced
+the enormity of the offence. Long voyages impart to us a nameless
+virtue--or vice, made up of tolerance, stoicism and disdain. After
+having trodden over the graveyards of all nations, it seems as if we had
+assisted at the funeral ceremonies of the world, and they who survive on
+its surface seem like a band of adroit fugitives who have discovered the
+secret of prolonging to-day's agony until to-morrow.
+
+I walked upon the Boulevard Italien without wonder, hatred, love, joy or
+sorrow. On consulting my inmost thoughts I found there an unimpassioned
+serenity, a something akin to ennui; I scarcely heard the noise of the
+wheels, the horses--the crowd that surrounded me.
+
+Habituated to the turmoil of those grand dead nations near the vast
+ruins of the desert, this little hubbub of wearied citizens scarcely
+attracted my attention.
+
+My face must have reflected the disdainful quietude of my soul.
+
+By contemplative communion with the mute, motionless colossal faces of
+Egypt's and Persia's monuments, I felt that unwittingly my countenance
+typified the cold imperturbable tranquillity of their granite brows.
+
+That evening La Favorita was played at the opera. Charming work! full of
+grace, passion, love. Reaching the end of Le Pelletier street, my walk
+was blocked by a line of carriages coming down Provence street; not
+having the patience to wait the passage of this string of vehicles, nor
+being very dainty in my distinction between pavement and street, I
+followed in the wake of the carriages, and as they did not conceal the
+facade of the opera at the end of the court, I saw it, and said "I will
+go in."
+
+I took a box below, because my family-box had changed hands, hangings
+and keys at least five times in ten years, and seated myself in the
+background to avoid recognition, and leave undisturbed friends who would
+feel in duty bound to pay fashionable court to a traveller due ten
+years. I was not familiar with La Favorita, and my ear took in the new
+music slowly. Great scores require of the indolent auditor a long
+novitiate.
+
+While I listened indolently to the orchestra and the singers, I examined
+the boxes with considerable interest, to discover what little
+revolutions a decade could bring about in the aristocratic personnel of
+the opera. A confused noise of words and some distinct sentences reached
+my ear from the neighboring boxes when the orchestra was silent. I
+listened involuntarily; the occupants were not talking secrets, their
+conversation was in the domain of idle chat, that divides with the
+libretto the attention of the habitues of the opera.
+
+They said, "I could distinguish her in a thousand, I mistrust my sight a
+little, but my glass is infallible; it is certainly Mlle. de
+Bressuire--a superb figure, but she spoils her beauty by affectation."
+
+"Your glass deceives you, my dear sir, we know Mlle. de Bressuire."
+
+"Madame is right; it is not Mlle. That young lady at whom everybody is
+gazing, and who to-night is the favorite--excuse the pun--of the opera,
+is a Spaniard; I saw her at the Bois de Boulogne in M. Martinez de la
+Hosa's carriage. They told me her name, but I have forgotten. I never
+could remember names."
+
+"Ladies," said a young man, who noisily entered the box, "we are at last
+enlightened. I have just questioned the box-keeper--she is a maid of
+honor to the Queen of Belgium."
+
+"And her name?" demanded five voices.
+
+"She has a Belgian name, unpronounceable by the box-keeper; something
+like Wallen, or Meulen."
+
+"We are very much wiser."
+
+From the general commotion it was easy to perceive that the same subject
+was being discussed by the whole house, and doubtless in the same
+terms; for people do not vary their formulas much on such occasions.
+
+A strain of music recalled to the stage every eye that during the
+intermission had been fastened upon one woman. I confess that I felt
+some interest in the episode, but, owing to my habitual reserve, barely
+discovered by random and careless glances the young girl thus handed
+over to the curious glances of the fashionable world. She was in a box
+of the first tier, and the native grace of her attitude first riveted my
+attention. The cynosure of all eyes, she bore her triumph with the ease
+of a woman accustomed to admiration.
+
+To appear unconscious she assumed with charming cleverness a pose of
+artistic contemplation. One would have said that she was really absorbed
+in the music, or that she was following the advice of the Tuscan poet:
+
+  "Bel ange, descendu d'un monde aerien,
+  Laisse-toi regarder et ne regarde rien."
+
+From my position I could only distinguish the outline of her figure,
+except by staring through my glasses, which I regard as a polite
+rudeness, but she seemed to merit the homage that all eyes looked and
+all voices sang.
+
+Once she appeared in the full blaze of the gas as she leaned forward
+from her box, and it seemed as if an apparition by some theatro-optical
+delusion approached and dazzled me.
+
+The rapt attention of the audience, the mellow tones of the singer, the
+orchestral accompaniment full of mysterious harmony, seemed to awaken
+the ineffable joy that love implants in the human heart. How much
+weakness there is in the strength of man!
+
+To travel for years over oceans, through deserts, among all varieties of
+peoples and sects; shipwrecked, to cling with bleeding hands to
+sea-beaten rocks; to laugh at the storm and brave the tiger in his lair;
+to be bronzed in torrid climes; to subject one's digestion to the
+baleful influences of the salt seas; to study wisdom before the ruins of
+every portico where rhetoricians have for three thousand years
+paraphrased in ten tongues the words of Solomon, "All is vanity;" to
+return to one's native shores a used-up man, persuaded of the emptiness
+of all things save the overhanging firmament and the never-fading stars;
+to scatter the fancies of too credulous youth by a contemptuous smile,
+or a lesson of bitter experience, and yet, while boasting a victory over
+all human fallacies and weaknesses, to be enslaved by the melody of a
+song, the smile of a woman.
+
+Life is full of hidden mysteries. I looked upon the stranger's face with
+a sense of danger, so antagonistic to my previous tranquillity that I
+felt humiliated.
+
+By the side of the beautiful unknown, I saw a large fan open and shut
+with a certain affectation, but not until its tenth movement did I
+glance at its possessor. She was my nearest relative, the Duchess de
+Langeac.
+
+The situation now began to be interesting. In a moment the interlude
+would procure for me a position to be envied by every one in the house.
+At the end of the act I left my box and made a rapid tour of the lobby
+before presenting myself. The Duchess dispelled my embarrassment by a
+cordial welcome. Women have a keen and supernatural perception about
+everything concerning love, that is alarming.
+
+The Duchess carelessly pronounced Mlle. de Chateaudun's name and mine,
+as if to be rid of the ceremonies of introduction as soon as possible,
+and touching a sofa with the end of her fan, said:
+
+"My dear Roger, it is quite evident that you have come from everywhere
+except from the civilized world. I bowed to you twenty times, and you
+declined me the honor of a recognition. Absorbed in the music, I
+suppose. La Favorita is not performed among the savages, so they remain
+savages. How do you like our barytone? He has sung his aria with
+delicious feeling."
+
+While the Duchess was indulging her unmeaning questions and comments, a
+rapid and careless glance at Mlle. de Chateaudun explained the
+admiration that she commanded from the crowded house. Were I to tell you
+that this young creature was a pretty, a beautiful woman, I would
+feebly express my meaning, such phrases mean nothing. It would require a
+master hand to paint a peerless woman, and I could not make the attempt
+when the bright image of Irene is now surrounded by the gloomy shadows
+of an afflicted heart.
+
+After the first exchange of insignificant words, the skirmish of a
+conversation, we talk as all talk who are anxious to appear ignorant of
+the fact that they are gazed upon by a whole assembly.
+
+Concealing my agitation under a strain of light conversation,
+"Mademoiselle," I said, in answer to a question, "music is to-day the
+necessity of the universe. France is commissioned to amuse the world.
+Suppress our theatre, opera, Paris, and a settled melancholy pervades
+the human family. You have no idea of the ennui that desolates the
+hemispheres.
+
+"Occasionally Paris enlivens the two Indias by dethroning a king. Once
+Calcutta was _in extremis_, it was dying of the blues; the East India
+company was rich but not amusing; with all its treasure it could not buy
+one smile for Calcutta, so Paris sent Robert le Diable, La Muette de
+Portici, a drama or two of Hugo and Dumas. Calcutta became convalescent
+and recovered. Its neighbor, Chandernagore, scarcely existed then, but
+in 1842, when I left the Isle de Bourbon, La Favorita was announced; it
+planted roses in the cheeks of the jaundiced inhabitants, and Madras,
+possessed by the spleen, was exorcised by William Tell.
+
+"Whenever a tropical city is conscious of approaching decline, she
+always stretches her hands beseechingly to Paris, who responds with
+music, books, newspapers; and her patient springs into new life.
+
+"Paris does not seem to be aware of her influences. She detracts from
+herself; says she is not the Paris of yesterday, the Paris of the great
+century; that her influence is gone, she is in the condition of the
+Lower Empire.
+
+"She builds eighty leagues of fortifications to sustain the siege of
+Mahomet II. She weeps over her downfall and accuses Heaven of denying
+to her children of '44 the genius and talents that characterized the
+statesmen and poets of her past.
+
+"But happily the universe does not coincide with Paris; go ask it;
+having just come from there, I know it."
+
+Indulging my traveller's extravagancies laughingly, to the amusement of
+my fair companion, she said:
+
+"Truly your philosophy is of the happy school, and the burden of life
+must be very light when it is so lightly borne."
+
+"You must know, my dear Roger," said the Duchess, feigning
+commiseration, "that my young cousin, Mlle. de Chateaudun, is pitiably
+unhappy, and you and I can weep over her lot in chorus with orchestral
+accompaniment; poor child! she is the richest heiress in Paris."
+
+"How wide you are from the mark!" said Irene, with a charming look of
+annoyance in the brightest eye that ever dazzled the sober senses of
+man; "it is not an axiom that wealth is happiness. The poor spread such
+a report, but the rich know it to be false."
+
+Here the curtain arose, and my return to my box explained my character
+as the casual visitor and not the lover. And what intentions could I
+have had at that moment? I cannot say.
+
+I was attracted by the loveliness of Mlle. Chateaudun; chance gave the
+opportunity for studying her charms, the fair unknown improved on
+acquaintance. Hers was the exquisite grace of face and feature and
+winningness of manner which attracts, retains and is never to be
+forgotten.
+
+From the superb tranquillity of her attitude, the intelligence of her
+eyes, it was easy to infer that a wider field would bring into action
+the hidden treasures of a gifted nature. Over the dazzling halo that
+surrounded the fair one, which left me the alternative of admiring
+silence or heedless vagrancy of speech, one cloud lowered, eclipsing all
+her charms and bringing down my divinity from her pedestal--Irene was an
+heiress!
+
+The Duchess had clipped the wings of the angel with the phrase of a
+marriage-broker. An heiress! the idea of a beautiful woman, full of
+poetry and love, inseparately linked to pounds, shillings and pence!
+
+It was a day of amnesty to men, a fete day in Paradise, when God gave to
+this young girl that crown of golden hair, that seraphic brow, those
+eyes that purified the moral miasma of earth. The ideal of poetry, the
+reality of my love!
+
+Think of this living master-piece of the divine studio as the theme of
+money-changers, the prize of the highest bidder!
+
+Of course, my dear Edgar, I saw Mlle. de Chateaudun again and again
+after this memorable evening; thanks to the facilities afforded me by my
+manoeuvring kinswoman, the Duchess, who worshipped the heiress as I
+worshipped the woman, I could Add a useless volume of romantic details
+leading you to the denouement, which you have already guessed, for you
+must see in me the lover of Mlle. de Chateaudun.
+
+I wished to give you the beginning and end of my story; what do you care
+for the rest, since it is but the wearisome calendar of all lovers?--The
+journal of a thousand incidents as interesting and important to two
+people as they are stupid and ridiculous to every one else. Each day was
+one of progress; finally, we loved each other. Excuse the homely
+platitude in this avowal.
+
+Irene seemed perfect; her only fault, being an heiress, was lost in the
+intoxication of my love; everything was arranged, and in spite of her
+money I was to marry her.
+
+I was delirious with joy, my feet spurned the earth. My bliss was the
+ecstasy of the blest. My delight seemed to color the contentment of
+other men with gloom, and I felt like begging pardon for being so happy.
+It seemed that this valley of tears, astonished that any one should from
+a terrestrial paradise gaze upon its afflictions and still be happy,
+would revolt against me!
+
+My dear Edgar, the smoke of hell has darkened my vision--I grope in the
+gloom of a terrible mystery--Vainly do I strive to solve it, and I turn
+to you for aid.
+
+Irene has left Paris! Home, street, city, all deserted! A damp, dark
+nothingness surrounds me!
+
+Not an adieu! a line! a message! to console me--
+
+Women do such things--
+
+I have done all in my power, and attempted the impossible to find Irene,
+but without success. If she only had some ground of complaint against
+me, how happy I would be.
+
+A terrible thought possesses my fevered brain--she has fallen into some
+snare, my marvellously beautiful Irene.
+
+Hide my sorrows, dear Edgar, from the world as I have hidden them.
+
+You would not have recognised the writer of this, had you seen him on
+the boulevard this morning. I was a superb dandy, with the poses of a
+Sybarite and the smiles of a young sultan. I trod as one in the clouds,
+and looked so benevolently on my fellow man that three beggars sued for
+aid as if they recognised Providence in a black coat. The last
+observation that reached my ear fell from the lips of an observing
+philosopher:
+
+"Heavens! how happy that young man must be!"
+
+Dear Edgar, I long to see you.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, 20th May, 18--
+
+No, no, I cannot console you in Paris. I will escort your grief to
+Smyrna, Grand Cairo, Chandernagore, New Holland, if you wish, but I
+would rather be scalped alive than turn my steps towards that
+fascinating city surrounded by fortifications.
+
+Your elegy found me moderately impressible. Fortune has apparently
+always treated you like a spoiled child; were your misfortunes mine I
+should be delighted, and in your torment I should find a paradise. A
+disappearance afflicts you with agony. I was forced to beat a retreat
+once, but not from creditors; my debts are things of the past. You are
+fled from--I am pursued; and whatever you may say to the contrary, it is
+much more agreeable to be the dog than the hare.
+
+Ah! if the beauty that I adore (this is melo-dramatic) had only
+conceived such a triumphant idea! I should not be the one who--but no
+one knows when he is well off. This Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun pleases
+me, for by this opportune and ingenious eclipse she prevents you from
+committing a great absurdity. What put marriage into your head,
+forsooth! You who have housed with Bengal tigers and treated the lions
+of Atlas as lapdogs; who have seen, like Don Caesar de Bazan, women of
+every color and clime; how could you have centred your affections upon
+this Parisian doll, and chained the fancies of your cosmopolitan soul to
+the dull, rolling wheel of domestic and conjugal duty?
+
+So don't swear at her; bless her with a grateful heart, put a bill of
+credit in your pocket, and off we'll sail for China. We will make a hole
+in the famous wall, and pry into the secrets of lacquered screens and
+porcelain cups. I have a strong desire to taste their swallow-nest soup,
+their shark's fins served with jujube sauce, the whole washed down by
+small glasses of castor oil. We will have a house painted apple-green
+and vermilion, presided over by a female mandarin with no feet,
+circumflex eyes, and nails that serve as toothpicks. When shall I order
+the post-horses?
+
+A wise man of the Middle Empire said that we should never attempt to
+stem the current of events. Life takes care of itself. The loss of your
+fiancee proves that you are not predestined for matrimony, therefore do
+not attempt to coerce chance; let it act, for perhaps it is the
+pseudonym of God.
+
+Thanks to this very happy disappearance, your love remains young and
+fresh; besides, you have, in addition to the Pleasures of Memory, the
+Pleasures of Hope (considered the finest work of the poet Campbell); for
+there is nothing to show that your divinity has been translated to that
+better world, where, however, no one seems over-anxious to go.
+
+Let not my retreat give rise to any unfavorable imputations against my
+courage. Achilles, himself, would have incontinently fled if threatened
+with the blessings in store for me. From what oriental head-dresses,
+burnous affectedly draped, golden rings after the style of the Empress
+of the Lower Empire, have I not escaped by my prudence?
+
+But this is all an enigma to you. You are in ignorance of my story,
+unless some too-well-posted Englishman hinted it to you in the temple of
+Elephanta. I will relate it to you by way of retaliation for the recital
+of your love affair with Mlle. Irene de Chateaudun.
+
+You have probably met that celebrated blue-stocking called the "Romantic
+Marquise." She is handsome, so the painters say; and, perhaps, they are
+not far from right, for she is handsome after the style of an old
+picture. Although young, she seems to be covered with yellow varnish,
+and to walk surrounded by a frame, with a background of bitumen.
+
+One evening I found myself with this picturesque personage at Madame de
+Blery's. I was listlessly intrenched in a corner, far from the circle of
+busy talkers, just sufficiently awake to be conscious that I was
+asleep--a delirious condition, which I recommend to your consideration,
+resembling the beginning of haschish intoxication--when by some turn in
+the conversation Madame de Blery mentioned my name and pointed me out. I
+was immediately awakened from my torpor and dragged out of my corner.
+
+I have been weak enough at times, as Gubetta says, to jingle words at
+the end of an idea, or to speak more modestly, at the end of certain
+measured syllables. The Marquise, cognisant of the offence, but not of
+the extenuating circumstances, launched forth into praise and flattering
+hyperbole that lifted me to the level of Byron, Goethe, Lamartine,
+discovered that I had a satanic look, and went on so that I suspected an
+album.
+
+This affected me gloomily and ferociously. There is nothing I despise
+more than an album, unless it be two of them.
+
+To avoid any such attempt, I broke into the most of the conversation
+with several innocent provincialisms, and effected my retreat in a
+masterly manner; advancing towards the door by degrees, and reaching it,
+I sprang outside so suddenly and nimbly that I had gotten to the bottom
+of the stairs before my absence was discovered.
+
+Alas! no one can escape au album when it is predestined! The next day a
+book, magnificently bound in Russia, arrived in a superb moire case in
+the hands of a groom, with an accompanying note from the Infanta
+soliciting the honor, &c.
+
+All great men have their antipathies. James I. could not look upon a
+glittering sword; Roger Bacon fainted at the sight of an apple; and
+blank paper fills me with melancholy.
+
+However, I resigned myself to the decrees of fate, and scribbled, I
+don't know what, in the corner, and subscribed my initials as illegible
+as those of Napoleon when in a passion.
+
+This, I flattered myself, was the end of the tragedy, but no: a few days
+afterwards I received an invitation to a select gathering, in such
+amiable terms that I resolved to decline it.
+
+Talleyrand said, "Never obey your first impulse, because it is good;" I
+obeyed this Machiavellian maxim, and erred!
+
+"_Eucharis_" was being performed at the opera; the sky was filled with
+ugly, threatening clouds; I sought in vain for a companion to get tight
+with, and moralize over a few bottles of wine, and so for want of a
+gayer occupation I went to the Marquise.
+
+Her apartments are a perfect series of catafalques, and seem to have
+been upholstered by an undertaker. The drawing-room is hung in violet
+damask; the bed-rooms in black velvet; the furniture is of ebony or old
+oak; crucifixes, holy-water basins, folio bibles, death's-heads and
+poniards adorned the enlivening interior. Several Zurbarans, real or
+false, representing monks and martyrs, hung on the walls, frightening
+visitors with their grimaces. These sombre tints are intended to
+contrast with the waxy cheeks and painted eyes of the lady who looks
+more like the ghost than the mistress of this dwelling; for she does not
+inhabit, she haunts it.
+
+You must not think, dear Roger, from this funereal introduction, that
+your friend became the prey of a ghoul or a vampire. The Marquise is
+handsome enough, after all. Her features are noble, regular, but a
+little Jewish, which induces her to wear a turban earlier and oftener
+than is necessary. She would not be so pale, if instead of white she put
+on red. Her hands, though too thin, are rather pretty and aristocratic,
+and weighted heavily with odd-looking rings. Her foot is not too large
+for her slipper. Uncommon thing! for women, in regard to their shoes,
+have falsified the geometrical axiom: the receptacle should be greater
+than its contents.
+
+She is, however, to a certain point, a gentlewoman, and holds a good
+position in society.
+
+I was received with all manner of caresses, stuffed with small cake,
+inundated with tea, of which beverage I hold the same opinion as Madame
+Gibou. I was assailed by romantic and transcendental dissertations, but
+possessing the faculty of abstraction and fixing my gaze upon the facets
+of a crystal flagon, my attitude touched the Marquise, who believed me
+plunged into a gulf of thought.
+
+In short, I had the misfortune to charm her, and the weakness, like the
+greater part of men, to surrender myself to my good or evil fortune;
+for this unhung canvas did not please me, and though tolerably stylish
+and pretty well preserved, I suspected some literature underneath, and
+closely scanned the edge of her dress to see if some azure reflection
+had not altered the whiteness of her stocking. I abhor women who take
+blue-ink baths. Alas! they are much worse than the avowed literary
+woman; she affects to talk of nothing but ribbons, dress and bonnets,
+and confidentially gives you a receipt for preserving lemons and making
+strawberry cream; they take pride in not ignoring housekeeping, and
+faithfully follow the fashions. At their homes ink, pen and paper are
+nowhere to be seen; their odes and elegies are written on the back of a
+bill or on a page torn from an account-book.
+
+La Marquise contemplates reform, romances, social poetry, humanitarian
+and palingenesic treatises, and scattered about on the tables and chairs
+were to be seen solemn old books, dog-leaved at their most tiresome
+pages, all of which is very appalling. Nothing is more convenient than a
+muse whose complete works are printed; one knows then what to expect,
+and you have not always the reading of Damocles hanging over your head.
+
+Dragged by a fatality that so often makes me the victim of women I do
+not admire, I became the Conrad, the Lara of this Byronic heroine.
+
+Every morning she sent me folio-sized epistles, dated three hours after
+midnight. They were compilations from Frederick Soulie, Eugene Sue, and
+Alexander Dumas, glorious authors, whom I delight to read save in my
+amorous correspondence, where a feminine mistake in orthography gives me
+more pleasure than a phrase plagiarised from George Sand, or a pathetic
+tirade stolen from a popular dramatist.
+
+In short, I do not believe in a passion told in language that smells of
+the lamp; and the expression "_Je t'aime_" will scarcely persuade me if
+it be not written "_Je theme_."
+
+It made no difference how often the beauty wrote, I fortified myself
+against her literary visitations by consigning her billets-doux unopened
+to an empty drawer. By this means I was enabled to endure her prose
+with great equanimity. But she expected me to reply--now, as I did not
+care to keep my hand in for my next romance, I viewed her claims as
+extravagant and unreasonable, and feigning a strong desire to see my
+mother, I fled, less curious than Lot's wife, without looking behind.
+
+Had I not taken this resolution I should have died of ennui in that
+dimly-lighted house, among those sepulchral toys, in the presence of
+that pale phantom enveloped in a dismal wrapper, cut in the monkish
+style, and speaking in a trembling and languishing tone of voice.
+
+La Trappe or Chartreuse would have been preferable--I would have gained
+at least my salvation. Although it may be the act of a Cossack, a
+shocking irregularity, I have given her no sign of my existence, except
+that I told her that my mother's recovery promised to be very slow, and
+she would need the devoted attention of a good son.
+
+Judge, dear Roger, after this recital, of which I have subdued the
+horrors and dramatic situations out of regard to your sensibility,
+whether I could return to Paris to be the comforter in your sorrow. Yet
+I could brave an encounter with the Marquise were it not that I am
+retained in Normandy by an expected visit of two months from our friend
+Raymond. This fact certainly ought to make you decide to share our
+solitude. Our friend is so poetical, so witty, so charming. He has but
+one fault, that of being a civilized Don Quixote de la Mancha; instead
+of the helmet of Mambrino he wears a Gibus hat, a Buisson coat instead
+of a cuirass, a Verdier cane by way of a lance. Happy nature! in which
+the heart is not sacrificed to the intellect; where the subtlety of a
+diplomate is united to the ingenuousness of a child.
+
+Since your ideal has fled, are not all places alike to you? Then why
+should you not come to me, to Richeport, but a step from Pont de l'Arch?
+
+I am perched upon the bank of the river, in a strange old building,
+which I know will please you. It is an old abbey half in ruins, in which
+is enshrined a dwelling, with many windows at regular intrevals, and is
+surmounted by a slate roof and chimneys of all sizes. It is built of
+hewn stone, that time has covered with its gray leprosy, and the general
+effect, looking through the avenue of grand old trees, is fine. Here my
+mother dwells. Profiting by the walls and the half-fallen towers of the
+old enclosure, for the abbey was fortified to resist the Norman
+invasions, she has made upon the brow of the hill a garden terrace
+filled with roses, myrtles and orange trees, while the green boxes
+surrounding them replace the old battlements. In this quarter of the old
+domain, I have not interfered with any of these womanly fancies.
+
+She has collected around her all manner of pretty rusticities; all the
+comfortable elegancies she could imagine. I have not opposed any system
+of hot-air stoves, nor the upholstering of the rooms, nor objected to
+mahogany and ebony, wedgwood ware, china in blue designs, and English
+plate. For this is the way that middle-aged, and in fact, all reasonable
+people live.
+
+For myself, I have reserved the refectory and library of the brave
+monks, that is, all that overlooks the river. I have not permitted the
+least repairing of the walls, which present the complete flora of the
+native wild flowers. An arched door, closed by old boards covered with a
+remnant of red paint, and opening on the bank, serves me as a private
+entrance. A ferry worked by a rope and pulley establishes communication
+with an island opposite the abbey, which is verdant with a mass of
+osiers, elder bushes and willows. It is here also that my fleet of boats
+is moored.
+
+Seen from without, nothing would indicate a human habitation; the ruins
+lie in all the splendor of their downfall.
+
+I have not replaced one stone--walled up one lizard--the house-leek, St.
+John's-wort, bell-flower, sea-green saxifrage, woody nightshade and blue
+popion flower have engaged in a struggle upon the walls of arabesques,
+and carvings which would discourage the most patient ornamental
+sculptor. But above all, a marvel of nature attracts your admiring gaze:
+it is a gigantic ivy, dating back at least to Richard Coeur de Lion, it
+defies by the intricacy of its windings those geneological trees of
+Jesus Christ, which are seen in Spanish churches; the top touching the
+clouds, and its bearded roots embedded in the bosom of the patriarchal
+Abraham; there are tufts, garlands, clusters, cascades of a green so
+lustrous, so metallic, so sombre and yet so brilliant, that it seems as
+if the whole body of the old building, the whole life of the dead abbey
+had passed into the veins of this parasitic friend, which smothers with
+its embrace, holding in place one stone, while it dislodges two to plant
+its climbing spurs.
+
+You cannot imagine what tufted elegance, what richness of open-work
+tracery this encroachment of the ivy throws upon the rather gaunt and
+sharp gable-end of the building, which on this front has for ornament
+but four narrow-pointed windows, surmounted by three trefoil
+quadrilobes.
+
+The shell of the adjoining building is flanked at its angle by a turret,
+which is chiefly remarkable for its spiral stairway and well. The great
+poet who invented Gothic cathedrals would, in the presence of this
+architectural caprice, ask the question, "Does the tower contain the
+well, or the well the tower?" You can decide; you who know everything,
+and more besides--except, however, Mlle. de Chateaudun's place of
+concealment.
+
+Another curiosity of the old building is a moucharaby, a kind of balcony
+open at the bottom, picturesquely perched above a door, from which the
+good fathers could throw stones, beams and boiling oil on the heads of
+those tempted to assault the monastery for a taste of their good fare
+and a draught of their good wine.
+
+Here I live alone, or in the company of four or five choice books, in a
+lofty hall with pointed roof; the points where the ribs intersect being
+covered with rosework of exquisite delicacy. This comprises my suite of
+apartments, for I never could understand why the little space that is
+given one in this world to dream, to sleep, to live, to die in, should
+be divided into a set of compartments like a dressing-case. I detest
+hedges, partitions and walls like a phalansterian.
+
+To keep off dampness I have had the sides of the market-house, as my
+mother calls it, wainscoted in oak to the height of twelve or fifteen
+feet.
+
+By a kind of gallery with two stairways, I can reach the windows and
+enjoy the beauty of the landscape, which is lovely. My bed is a simple
+hammock of aloes-fibre, slung in a corner; very low divans, and huge
+tapestry arm-chairs, for the rest of the furniture. Hung up on the
+wainscoting are pistols, guns, masks, foils, gloves, plastrons,
+dumb-bells and other gymnastic equipments. My favorite horse is
+installed in the opposite angle, in a box of _bois des iles_, a
+precaution that secures him from the brutalizing society of grooms, and
+keeps him a horse of the world.
+
+The whole is heated by a cyclopean chimney, which devours a load of wood
+at a mouthful, and before which a mastodon might be roasted.
+
+Come, then, dear Roger, I can offer you a friendly ruin, the chapel with
+the trefoil quadrilobes.
+
+We will walk together, axe in hand, through my park, which is as dense
+and impenetrable as the virgin forests of America, or the jungles of
+India. It has not been touched for sixty years, and I have sworn to
+break the head of the first gardener who dares to approach it with a
+pruning-hook.
+
+It is glorious to see the abandonment of Nature in this extravagance of
+vegetation, this wild luxuriance of flowers and foliage; the trees
+stretch out their arms, breed and intertwine in the most fantastic
+manner; the branches make a hundred curiously-distorted turns, and
+interlace in beautiful disorder; sometimes hanging the red berries of
+the mountain-ash among the silver foliage of the aspen.
+
+The rapid slope of the ground produces a thousand picturesque accidents;
+the grass, brightened by a spring which at a little distance plays a
+thousand pranks over the rocks, flourishes in rich luxuriance; the
+burdock, with large velvet leaves, the stinging nettles, the hemlock
+with greenish umbels; the wild oats--every weed prospers wonderfully. No
+stranger approaches the enclosure, whose denizens are two or three
+little deer with tawny coats gleaming through the trees.
+
+This eminently romantic spot would harmonize with your melancholy. Mlle.
+de Chateaudun not being in Paris, you have better chance of finding her
+elsewhere.
+
+Who knows if she has not taken refuge in one of these pretty
+bird's-nests embedded in moss and foliage, their half-open blinds
+overlooking the limpid flow of the Seine? Come quickly, my dear fellow;
+I will not take advantage of your position as I did of Alfred's, to
+overwhelm you from my moucharaby with a shower of green frogs, a miracle
+which he has not been able to explain to his entire satisfaction. I will
+show you an excellent spot to fish for white-bait; nothing calms the
+passions so much as fishing with rod and line; a philosophical
+recreation which fools have turned into ridicule, as they do everything
+else they do not understand.
+
+If the fish won't bite, you can gaze at the bridge, its piers blooming
+with wild flowers and lavender; its noisy mills, its arches obstructed
+by nets; the church, with its truncated roof; the village covering the
+hill-side, and, against the horizon, the sharp line of woody hills.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ M. EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+Richeport, near Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+GRENOBLE, Hotel of the Prefecture, May 22d 18--.
+
+Do not expect me, dear Edgar, I shall not be at Richeport the 24th. When
+shall I? I cannot tell.
+
+I write to you from a bed of pain, bruised, wounded, burnt, half dead.
+It served me right, you will say, on learning that I am here for the
+commission of the greatest crime that can be tried before your tribunal.
+It is only too true--I have saved the life of an ugly woman!
+
+But I saved her at night, when I innocently supposed her beautiful--let
+this be the extenuating circumstance. That no delay may attend your
+decision, here is the whole story.
+
+Travel from pole to pole--wander to and fro over the world, it is not
+impossible, by God's help, to escape the thousand and one annoyances
+that are scattered over the surface of this terraqueous globe, but it is
+impossible, go where you will, to evade England, the gayest nation to be
+found, especially in travelling.
+
+At Rome, this winter, Lord K. told me seriously that he had set out from
+London, some years since, with the one object of finding some corner of
+the earth on which no foot had ever trod before, and there to fix the
+first glorious impress of a British boot. The English occasionally, for
+amusement, indulge in such notions.
+
+After having examined a scale of the comparative heights of the
+mountains of the universe, he noted the two highest points. Lord K.
+first reached the Peruvian Andes, and began to climb the sides of
+Chimborazo with that placidity, that sang-froid, which is the
+characteristic of an elevated soul instinctively attracted to realms
+above.
+
+Reaching the summit with torn feet and bleeding hands, he was about to
+fix a conqueror's grasp upon the rock, when he saw in one of the
+crevices a heap of visiting-cards, placed there successively, during a
+half century, by two or three hundred of his compatriots.
+
+Disappointed but not discouraged, Lord K. drew from his case a shining,
+satiny card, and having gravely added it to the many others, began to
+descend Chimborazo with the same coolness and deliberation that he had
+climbed up.
+
+Half way down he found himself face to face with Sir Francis P., about
+to attempt the ascent that Lord K. had just accomplished. Although
+alienated by difference of party, they were old friends, dating their
+acquaintance, I believe, from the University of Oxford.
+
+Without appearing astonished at so unexpected an encounter, they bowed
+politely, and on Chimborazo, as in politics, went their separate ways.
+
+Betrayed by the New World, Lord K. directed his steps towards the Old.
+He penetrated the heart of Asia, plunged into the Dobrudja region, and
+paused only at the foot of Tschamalouri, upon the borders of Bootan. It
+is fair that I should thus visit on you the formidable erudition
+inflicted upon me by Milord.
+
+You must know, then, dear Edgar, that the Tschamalouri is the highest
+peak of the Himalayan group.
+
+The Jungfrau, Mount Blanc, Mount Cervin, and Mount Rosa, piled one upon
+the other, would make at best but a stepping-stone to it. Judge, then,
+of Milord's transports in the presence of this giant, whose hoary head
+was lost in the clouds! They might rob him of Chimborazo, but
+Tschamalouri was his.
+
+After a few days for repose and preparation, one fine morning at
+sunrise, behold Milord commencing the ascent, with the proud
+satisfaction of a lover who sees his rival dancing attendance in the
+antechamber while he glides unseen up the secret stairway with a key to
+the boudoir in his pocket.
+
+He journeyed up, and on the first day had passed the region of
+tempests. Passing the night in his cloak, he began again his task at the
+dawn of day.
+
+Nothing dismayed him--no obstacle discouraged him. He bounded like a
+chamois from ridge to ridge, he crawled like a snake and hung like a
+vine from the sharp aretes--wounds and lacerations covered his
+body--after scorching he froze. The eagles whirled about his head and
+flapped their wings in his face. But on he went. His lungs, distended by
+the rarified atmosphere, threatened to burst with an explosion akin to a
+steamboat's. Finally, after superhuman efforts, bleeding, panting,
+gasping for breath, Milord sank exhausted upon the rocks.
+
+What a labor! but what a triumph! what a struggle! but what a conquest!
+The thought of being able, the coming winter, to boast of having carved
+his name where, until then, God alone had written his.
+
+And Sir Francis! who would not fail to plume himself on the joint favors
+of Chimborazo, how humiliated he would be to learn that Lord K., more
+fastidious in his amours, more exalted in his ambition, had not, four
+thousand fathoms above sea, feared to pluck the rose of Tschamalouri!
+
+I remember that the first night I passed in Rome I heard in my sleep a
+mysterious voice murmuring at my pillow: "Rome! Rome! thou art in Rome!"
+
+Milord, shattered, sore and helpless, also heard a charming voice
+singing sweetly in his ear: "Thou art stretched full length upon the
+summit of Tschamalouri."
+
+This melody insensibly affected him as the balm of Fier-a-Bras. He
+rallied, he arose, and with radiant face, sparkling eyes and bosom
+swelling with pride, drew a poniard from its sheath and prepared to cut
+his name upon the rock. Suddenly he turned pale, his limbs gave way
+under him, the knife dropped from his grasp and fell blunted upon the
+rocks. What had he seen? What could have happened to so agitate him in
+these inaccessible regions?
+
+There, upon the tablet of granite where he was about to inscribe the
+name of his ancestors, he read, unhappy man, distinctly read, these two
+names distinctly cut in the flint, "William and Lavinia," with the
+following inscription, in English, underneath: "Here, July 25th, 1831,
+two tender hearts communed."
+
+Surmounting the whole was a flaming double heart pierced by an arrow, an
+arrow that then pierced three hearts at once. The rock was covered
+besides with more than fifty names, all English, and as many
+inscriptions, all English too, of a kindred character to the one he had
+read. Milord's first impulse was to throw himself head foremost down the
+mountain side; but, fortunately, raising his eyes in his despair, he
+discovered a final plateau, so steep that neither cat nor lizard could
+climb it. Lord K. became a bird and flew up, and what did he see? Oh,
+the vanity of human ambition! Upon the last round of the most gigantic
+ladder, extending from earth to heaven, Milord perceived Sir Francis,
+who, having just effected the same ascent from the other side of the
+colossus, was quietly reading the "Times" and breakfasting upon a chop
+and a bottle of porter!
+
+The two friends coolly saluted each other, as they had before done on
+the side of Chimborazo; then, with death in his heart, but impassive and
+grave, Lord K. silently drew forth a box of conserves, a flask of ale
+and a copy of the "Standard." The repast and the two journals being
+finished, the tourists separated and descended, each on his own side,
+without having exchanged a word.
+
+Lord K. has never forgiven Sir Francis; they accuse each other of
+plagiarism, a mortal hatred has sprung up between them, and thus
+Tschamalouri finished what politics began.
+
+I had this story from Lord K. himself, who drags out a disenchanted and
+gloomy existence, which would put an end to itself had he not in present
+contemplation a journey to the moon; still he is half convinced that he
+would find Sir Francis there.
+
+Entertain your mother with this story, it would be improved by your
+narration.
+
+You must agree with me that if the English grow four thousand fathoms
+above the sea, the plant must necessarily thrive on the plains and the
+low countries. It is acclimated everywhere, like the strawberry, without
+possessing its sweet savor.
+
+Italy is, I believe, the land where it best flourishes. There I have
+traversed fields of English, sown everywhere, mixed with a few Italians.
+
+But I would have been happy if I had encountered only Englishmen along
+my route. Some poet has said that England is a swan's nest in the midst
+of the waves. Alas! how few are the swans that come to us at long
+intervals, compared with the old ostriches in bristling plumage, and the
+young storks with their long, thin necks that flock to us.
+
+When in Rome only a few hours, and wandering through the Campo Vaccino,
+I found among the ruins one I did not seek. It was Lady Penock. I had
+met her so often that I could not fail to know her name. Edgar, you know
+Lady Penock; it is impossible that you should not. But if not, it is
+easy for you to picture her to yourself. Take a keepsake, pick out one
+of those faces more beautiful than the fairies of our dreams, so lovely
+that it might be doubted whether the painter found his model among the
+daughters of earth. Passionate lover of form, feast your eye upon the
+graceful curve of that neck, those shoulders; gaze upon that pure brow
+where grace and youth preside; bathe your soul in the soft brightness of
+that blue and limpid glance; bend to taste the perfumed breath of that
+smiling mouth; tremble at the touch of those blonde tresses, twined in
+bewildering mazes behind the head and falling over the temples in waving
+masses; fervent worshipper at the shrine of beauty, fall into ecstasies;
+then imagine the opposite of this charming picture, and you have Lady
+Penock.
+
+This apparition, in the centre of the ancient forum, completely upset my
+meditations. J.J. Rousseau says in his Confessions that he forgot Mme.
+de Larnage in seeing the Pont du Gard. So I forgot the Coliseum at the
+sight of Lady Penock. Explain, dear Edgar, what fatality attended my
+steps, that ever afterwards this baleful beauty pursued me?
+
+Under the arches of the Coliseum, beneath the dome of St. Peter, in
+Pagan Rome and in Catholic Rome, in front of the Laocoeon, before the
+Communion of St. Jerome, by Dominichino, on the banks of Lake Albano,
+under the shades of the Villa Borghese, at Tivoli in the Sibyl's temple,
+at Subiaco in the Convent of St. Benoit, under every moon and by every
+sun I saw her start up at my side. To get away from her I took flight
+and travelled post to Tuscany. I found her at the foot of the falls of
+Terni, at the tomb of St. Francis d'Assise, under Hannibal's gate at
+Spoletta, at the table d'hote Perouse at Arezzo, on the threshold of
+Petrarch's house; finally, the first person I met in the Piazza of the
+Grand Duke at Florence, before the Perseus of Benvenuto Cellini, Edgar,
+was Lady Penock. At Pisa she appeared to me in the Campo Santo; in the
+Gulf of Genoa her bark came near capsizing mine; at Turin I found her at
+the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities; her and no one else! And, what was
+so amusing, my Lady on seeing me became agitated, blushed and looked
+down, and believing herself the object of an ungovernable passion, she
+mumbled through her long teeth, "Shocking! Shocking!"
+
+Tired of war, I bade adieu to Italy and crossed the mountains; besides,
+dear country, I sighed to see you once more. I passed through Savoy and
+when I saw the mountains of Dauphiny loom up against the distant horizon
+my heart beat wildly, my eyes filled with tears, and I felt like a
+returning exile, and know not what false pride restrained me from
+springing to the ground and kissing the soil of France!
+
+Hail! noble and generous land, the home of intelligence and of liberty!
+On touching thee the soul swells within us, the mind expands; no child
+of thine can return to thy bosom without a throb of holy joy, a feeling
+of noble pride. I passed along filled with delirious happiness. The
+trees smiled on me, the winds whispered softly in my ear, the little
+flowers that carpeted the wayside welcomed me; it required an effort to
+restrain myself from embracing as brothers the noble fellows that passed
+me on the way.
+
+Then, Edgar, I was to find you again, and it was the spot of my
+birthplace, the paternal acres which in our common land seem to us a
+second country.
+
+The night was dark, no moon, no stars; I had just left Grenoble and was
+passing through Voreppe, a little village not without some importance
+because in the neighborhood of the Grande Chartreuse, which, at this
+season of the year, attracts more curiosity-hunters than
+believers--suddenly the horses stopped, I heard a rumbling noise
+outside, and a crimson glare lighted up the carriage windows. I might
+have taken it for sunset, if the sun had not set long since.
+
+I got out and found the only inn of the village on fire; great was the
+confusion in the small hamlet, there was a general screaming, struggling
+and running about. The innkeeper with his wife, children, and servants
+emptied the stables and barns. The horses neighed, the oxen bellowed,
+and the pigs, feeling that they were predestined to be roasted anyhow,
+offered to their rescuers an obstinate and philosophical resistance.
+
+Meantime the notables of the place, formed in groups, discussed
+magisterially the origin of a fire which no one made an effort to stay.
+Left alone, it brightened the night, fired the surrounding hills and
+shot its jets and rockets of sparks far into the sky. You, a poet, would
+have thought it fine. Sublime egotist that you are, everything is
+effect, color, mirages, decorations. Endeavoring to make myself useful
+in this disaster, I thought I heard it whispered around me that some
+travellers remained in the inn, who, if not already destroyed, were
+seriously threatened.
+
+Among others a young stranger was mentioned who had come that day from
+the Grande Chartreuse, which she had been visiting. I went straight to
+the innkeeper who was dragging one of his restive pigs by the tail,
+reminding me of one of the most ridiculous pictures of Charlet. "All
+right," said the man, "all the travellers are gone, and as to those who
+remain--" "Then some do remain?" I asked, and by insisting learned that
+an Englishwoman occupied a room in the second story.
+
+I hate England--I hate it absurdly, in true, old-fashioned style. To me
+England is still "Perfidious Albion."
+
+You may laugh, but I hate in proportion to the love I bear my country. I
+hate because my heart has always bled for the wounds she has opened in
+the bosom of France. Yes, but coward is he who has the ability to save a
+fellow-creature, yet folds his arms, deaf to pity! My enemy in the jaws
+of death is my brother. If need be I would jump into the flood to save
+Sir Hudson Lowe, free to challenge him afterwards, and try to kill him
+as I would a dog.
+
+The ground-floor of the inn was enveloped in flames. I took a ladder,
+and resting it against the sill, I mounted to the window that had been
+pointed out to me. On the hospitable soil of France a stranger must not
+perish for want of a Frenchman to save him. Like Anthony, with one blow
+I broke the glass and raised the sash; I found myself in a passage that
+the fire had not reached. I sprang towards a door.--an excited voice
+said, "Don't come in." I entered, looked around for the young stranger,
+and, immortal gods! what did I see? In the charming neglige of a beauty
+suddenly awakened,--you are right, it was she. Yes, my dear fellow, it
+was Lady Penock--Lady Penock, who recognised and screamed furiously!
+"Madame," said I, turning away with a sincere and proper feeling of
+respect, "you are mistaken. The house is on fire, and if you do not
+leave it"--"You! you!" she cried, "have set fire to it, like Lovelace,
+to carry me off." "Madame," said I, "we have no time to lose." The floor
+smoked under our feet, the rafters cracked over our heads, the flames
+roared at the door, delay was dangerous; so, in spite of the eternal
+refrain that sounded like the crying of a bird,--"Shocking! shocking!" I
+dragged Lady Penock from behind the bed where she cowered to escape my
+wild embraces, picked her up as if she were a stick of dry wood, and
+bearing the precious burden, appeared at the top of the ladder.
+Meanwhile the fire raged, the flames and the smoke enveloped us on all
+sides. "For pity's sake, madame," said I, "don't scream and kick so." My
+lady screamed all the louder and struggled all the worse. When half way
+down the ladder she said, "Young man, go back immediately, I have
+forgotten something very valuable to me." At these words the roof fell
+in, the walls crumbled away, the ladder shook, the earth opened under my
+feet, and I felt as if I were falling into the abyss of Taenarus.
+
+I awoke, under an humble roof whose poor owner had received me.
+
+I had a fracture of my shoulder, and three doctors by my side. I have
+known many men to die with less. As for Lady Penock, I learned with
+satisfaction of her escape, barring a sprained ankle; she had departed
+indignant at the impertinence of my conduct, and to the people who had
+charitably suggested to her to instal herself as a gray nun at the
+bedside of her preserver, she said, coloring angrily, "Oh, I should die
+if I were to see that young man again."
+
+Be reassured, France has again atoned for Albion. My adventure having
+made some noise, a few days after the fire Providence came into my room
+and sat beside my bed in the shape of a noble woman named Madame de
+Braimes.
+
+It appears that M. de Braimes has been, for a year past, prefect of
+Grenoble; that he knew my father intimately, and my name sufficed to
+bring these two noble beings to my side.
+
+As soon as I could bear the motion of a carriage, they took me from
+Voreppe, and I am now writing to you, my dear Edgar, from the hotel of
+the Prefecture.
+
+I received in Florence the last letter you directed to me at Rome. What
+a number of questions you ask, and how am I to answer them all?
+
+Don't speak to me of Jerusalem, Cedron, Lebanon, Palmyra and Baalbec, or
+anything of the sort. Read over again Rene's Guide-book, Jocelyn's
+Travels, the Orientales of Olympio, and you will know as much about the
+East as I do, though I have been there, according to your account, for
+the last two years. However, I have performed all the commissions you
+gave me, on the eve of my departure, three years ago. I bring you pipes
+from Constantinople, to your mother chaplets from Bethlehem--only I
+bought the pipes at Leghorn, and the chaplets at Rome.
+
+Do you remember a cold, rainy December evening in Paris, eighteen months
+ago, when I should have been on the borders of Afghanistan, or the
+shores of the Euphrates, you were walking along the quays, between
+eleven o'clock and midnight, walking rapidly, wrapped like a Castilian
+in the folds of your cloak?
+
+Do you remember that between the Pont Neuf and the Pont Saint Michel you
+stumbled against a young man, enveloped likewise in a cloak, and
+following rapidly the course of the Seine in a direction opposite to
+yours? The shock was violent, and nailed us both to the spot. Do you
+remember that having scrutinized each other under the gaslight, you
+exclaimed, "Raymond," and opened your arms to embrace me; then, seeing
+the cold and reserved attitude of him who stood silently before you, how
+you changed your mind and went your way, laughing at the mistake but
+struck by the resemblance?
+
+The resemblance still exists; the young man that you called Raymond, was
+Raymond.
+
+One more story, and I have done. I will tell it without pride or
+pretence, a thing so natural, so simple, that it is neither worth
+boasting of nor concealing.
+
+You know Frederick B. You remember that I have always spoken of him as a
+brother. We played together in the same cradle; we grew up, as it were,
+under the same roof. At school I prepared his lessons: out of gratitude
+he ate my sugar-plums. At college I performed his tasks and fought his
+battles. At twenty, I received a sword-thrust in my breast on his
+account. Later he plunged into matrimony and business, and we lost sight
+of, without ceasing to love each other. I knew that he prospered, and I
+asked nothing more. As for myself, tired of the sterile life I was
+leading, called fashionable life, I turned my fortune into ready money,
+and prepared to set out on a long journey.
+
+The day of my departure--I had bidden you good-bye the evening
+before--Frederick entered my room. A year had nearly passed since we
+had met; I did not know that he was in Paris. I found him changed; his
+preoccupied air alarmed me. However, I concealed my anxiety. We cannot
+treat with too much reserve and delicacy the sadness of our married
+friends. As he talked, two big tears rolled silently down his cheeks. I
+had to speak.
+
+"What is the matter?" I asked abruptly; and I pressed him with
+questions, tormented him until he told me all. Bankruptcy was at his
+door; and he spoke of his wife and children in such heart-rending terms,
+that I mingled my tears with his, thinking of course that I was not rich
+enough to give him the money he needed.
+
+"My poor Frederic," I finally said, "is it such a very large amount?" He
+replied with a gesture of despair. "Come, how much?" I asked again.
+
+"Five hundred thousand francs!" he cried, in a gloomy stupor. I arose,
+took him by the arm, and under the pretext of diverting him, drew him on
+the boulevards. I left him at the door of my notary and joined him on
+coming out. "Frederick," I said, giving him a line I had just written,
+"take that and hasten to embrace your wife and children." Then I jumped
+into a cab which carried me home; my journey was over. I returned from
+Jerusalem.
+
+Dupe! I hear you say, Ah, no, Edgar! I am young and I understand men,
+but there dwell in them both the good and the beautiful, and to expect
+to derive any other satisfaction than that found in cultivating these
+qualities has always seemed to me to be an unreasonable expectation.
+
+What! you, as a poet, enjoy the intoxication of inspiration, the feast
+of solitude, the silence of serene and starry nights and that does not
+satisfy you; you would have fortune hasten to the sound of the Muses'
+kisses.
+
+What! as a generous man, you can enjoy the delights of giving and only
+sow a field of benefits in the hope of reaping some day the golden
+harvest of gratitude!
+
+Of what do you complain? wretched man! You are the ingrate. Besides,
+even with this view, be convinced, dear Edgar, that the good and the
+beautiful are still two of the best speculations that can be made here
+below, and nothing in the world succeeds better than fine verses and
+noble deeds. Only wicked hearts and bad poets dare to affirm the
+contrary. For myself, experience has taught me that self-abnegation is
+profit enough to him who exercises it, and disinterestedness is a
+blossom of luxury that well cultivated bears most savory fruit. I
+encountered fortune in turning my back on her. I owe to Lady Penock the
+touching care and precious friendship of Madame de Braimes, and if this
+system of remuneration continue I shall end by believing that in
+throwing myself into the gulf of Curtius I would fall upon a bed of
+roses.
+
+The fact is, I was ruined, but whoever could have seen me at the moment
+would have said I was overcome with delight. I must tell you all, Edgar;
+I pictured to myself the transports of Frederick and his wife on seeing
+the abyss that was about to engulf them so easily closed; these sweet
+images alone did not cause my wild delight; would you believe it, the
+thought of my ruin and poverty intoxicated me more. I had suffered for a
+long time from an unoccupied youth, and was indignant at my uneventful
+life. At twenty I quietly assumed a position prepared for me; to play
+this part in the world I had taken the trouble to be born; to gather the
+fruits of life I had only to stretch out my hand. Irritated at the
+quietude of my days, wearied with a happiness that cost me nothing, I
+sought heroic struggles, chivalrous encounters, and not finding them in
+a well-regulated society, where strong interests have been substituted
+for strong passions, I fretted in secret and wept over my impotence.
+
+But now my hour was come! I was about to put my will, strength and
+courage to the proof. I was about to wrest from study the secrets of
+talent. I was about to reclaim from labor the fortune I had given away,
+and which I owed to chance. Until that deed I had only been the son of
+my father, the heir of my ancestors; now I was to become the child of my
+own deeds. The prisoner who sees his chains fall off and sends to
+heaven a wild shout of liberty, does not feel a deeper joy than I felt
+when ready to struggle with destiny I could exclaim, "I am poor!"
+
+I have seen everywhere _blase_ young men, old before their time, who,
+according to their own account, have known and exhausted every pleasure;
+have felt the nothingness of human things. 'Tis true these young
+unfortunates have tried everything but labor and devotion to some holy
+cause.
+
+There remained of my patrimony fifteen thousand francs, which were laid
+aside to defray my travelling expenses. This, with a very moderate
+revenue accruing from two little farms, contiguous to the castle of my
+father, made up my possessions.
+
+Putting the best face on things, supposing I might recover my fortune,
+an event so uncertain that it were best not to count on it, I wisely
+traced the line of duty with a firm hand and joyous heart.
+
+I decided immediately that I would not undeceive my friends as to my
+departure, and that I would employ, in silence and seclusion, the time I
+was supposed to be spending abroad.
+
+Not that it did not occur to me to proclaim boldly what I had done, for
+in a country where a dozen wretches are every year publicly beheaded for
+the sake of example, perhaps it would be well also, for example's sake,
+to do good publicly. To do this, however, would have been to compromise
+Frederick's credit, who, besides, would never have accepted my sacrifice
+if he could have measured its extent.
+
+I could have retired to my estates; but felt no inclination to make an
+exposure of my poverty to the comments of a charitable province; nor had
+I taste for the life of a ruined country squire.
+
+Besides, solitude was essential to my plans, and solitude is impossible
+out of Paris; one is never really lost save in a crowd. I soon found in
+the Masario a little room very near the clouds, but brightened by the
+rising sun, overlooking a sea of verdure marked here and there by a few
+northern pines, with their gloomy and motionless branches.
+
+This nest pleased me. I furnished it simply, filled it with books and
+hung over my bed the portrait of my sainted mother, who seemed to smile
+on and encourage me, while you, Frederick and others believed me
+steaming towards the shores of the East; and here I quietly installed
+myself, prouder and more triumphant than a soldier of fortune taking
+possession of a kingdom.
+
+Edgar, these two years I really lived--. In that little room I spent
+what will remain, I very much fear, the purest, the brightest, the best
+period of my whole life. I am not of much account now, formerly I was
+nothing; the little good that is in me was developed in those two years
+of deep vigils. I thought, reflected, suffered and nourished myself with
+the bread of the strong. I initiated myself into the stern delights of
+study, the austere joys of poverty.
+
+O! days of labor and privation, beautiful days! Where have you gone?
+Holy enchantments, shall I ever taste you again? Silent and meditative
+nights! when at the first glimmer of dawn I saw the angel of revery
+alight at my side, bend his beautiful face over me, and fold my wearied
+limbs in his white wings; blissful nights! will you ever return?
+
+If you only knew the life I led through these two years! If you knew
+what dreams visited me in that humble nest by the dim light of the lamp,
+you would be jealous of them, my poet!
+
+The days were passed in serious study. At evening I took my frugal
+repast, in winter, by the hearth, in summer by the open window. In
+December I had guests that kings might have envied. Hugo, George Sand,
+Lamartine, De Musset, yourself, dear Edgar. In April I had the soft
+breezes, the perfume of the lilacs, the song of the birds warbling among
+the branches, and the joyous cries of the children playing in the
+distant alleys, while the young mothers passed slowly through the fresh
+grass, their faces wreathed with sweet smiles, like the happy shadows
+that wander through the Elysian fields.
+
+Sometimes on a dark night I would venture into the streets of Paris, my
+hat drawn over my eyes to keep out the glare of gas. On one of these
+solitary rambles I met you. Imagine the courage I required not to rush
+into your open arms. I returned frequently along the quays, listening to
+the confused roar, like the distant swell of the ocean, made by the
+great city before falling to sleep, listening to the murmurs of the
+river and gazing at the moon like a burning disk from the furnace,
+slowly rising behind the towers of Notre Dame.
+
+Often I prowled under the windows of my friends, stopping at yours to
+send you a good-night.
+
+Returning home I would rekindle my fire and begin anew my labors,
+interrupted from time to time by the bells of the neighboring convents
+and the sound of the hours striking sadly in the darkness.
+
+
+O! nights more beautiful than the day. It was then that I felt germinate
+and flourish in my heart a strange love.
+
+Opposite me, beyond the garden that separated us, was a window, in a
+story on a level with mine; it was hid during the day by the tall pines,
+but its light shone clear and bright through the foliage. This lamp was
+lit invariably at the same hour every evening and was rarely
+extinguished before dawn. There, I thought, one of God's poor creatures
+works and suffers. Sometimes I rose from my desk to look at this little
+star twinkling between heaven and earth, and with my brow pressed
+against the pane gazed sadly at it.
+
+In the beginning it excited me to watch, and I made it a point of honor
+never to extinguish my lamp as long as the rival lamp was burning; at
+last it became the friend of my solitude, the companion of my destiny. I
+ended by giving it a soul to understand and answer me. I talked to it; I
+questioned. I sometimes said, "Who art thou?"
+
+Now I imagined a pale youth enamored with glory, and called him my
+brother. Then it was a young and lovely Antigone, laboring to sustain
+her old father, and I called her my sister, and by a sweeter name too.
+Finally, shall I tell you, there were moments when I fancied that the
+light of our fraternal lamps was but the radiance of two mysterious
+sympathies, drawn together to be blended into one.
+
+One must have passed two years in solitude to be able to comprehend
+these puerilities. How many prisoners have become attached to some
+wall-flower, blooming between the bars of their cell, like the Marvel of
+Peru of the garden, which closes to the beams of day to open its petals
+to the kisses of the evening; the flower that I loved was a star.
+Anxiously I watched its awakening, and could not repose until it had
+disappeared. Did it grow dim and flicker, I cried--"Courage and hope!
+God blesses labor, he keeps for thee a purer and brighter seat in
+heaven!"
+
+Did I in turn feel sad, it threw out a brighter light and a voice said,
+"Hope, friend, I watch and suffer with thee!" No! I cannot but believe
+now that between that lamp and mine there passed an electric current, by
+which two hearts, created for each other, communicated with and
+understood their mutual pulsations. Of course I tried to find the house
+and room from whence shone my beloved light, but each day I received a
+new direction that contradicted the one they gave before; so I concluded
+that the occupant of this room had an object, like myself, in
+concealment, and I respected his secret.
+
+Thus my life glided by--so much happiness lasted too short a time!
+
+The gods and goddesses of Olympus had a messenger named Iris, who
+carried their billets-doux from star to star. We mortals have a fairy in
+our employ that leaves Iris far behind; this fairy is called the post;
+dwell upon the summit of Tschamalouri, and some fine morning you will
+see the carrier arrive with his box upon his shoulder, and a letter to
+your address. One evening, on returning from one of those excursions I
+told you of, I found at my porter's a letter addressed to me. I never
+receive letters without a feeling of terror. This, the only one in two
+years, had a formidable look; the envelope was covered with odd-looking
+signs, and the seal of every French consulate in the East; under this
+multitude of stamps was written in large characters--"In haste--very
+important." The square of paper I held in my hand had been in search of
+me from Paris to Jerusalem, and from consulate to consulate, had
+returned from Jerusalem to Paris, to the office of the Minister of
+Foreign Affairs. There they had let loose some blood-hounds of the
+police, who with their usual instinct followed my tracks and discovered
+my abode in less than a day.
+
+I glanced first at the signature, and saw Frederick's name; I vow,
+unaffectedly, that for two years I had not thought of his affairs, and
+his letter brought me the first news of him.
+
+After a preamble, devoted entirely to the expression of an exaggerated
+gratitude, Frederick announced with a flourish of trumpets, that Fortune
+had made magnificent reparation for her wrongs to him; he had saved his
+honor and strengthened his tottering credit. From which time forward he
+had prospered beyond his wildest hopes. In a few months he gained, by a
+rise in railroad stocks, fabulous sums. He concluded with the
+information that, having interested me in his fortunate speculations, my
+capital was doubled, and that I now possessed a clear million, which I
+owed to no one. At the end of this letter, bristling with figures and
+terms that savoured of money, were a few simple, touching lines from
+Frederick's wife, which went straight to my heart, and brought tears to
+my eyes.
+
+When I had read the letter through, I took a long survey of my little
+room, where I had lived so happily; then, sitting upon the sill of the
+open window, whence I could see my faithful star shine peacefully in the
+darkness, I remained until morning, absorbed in sad and melancholy
+thoughts.
+
+Fortune has its duties as well as poverty. _Comme noblesse, fortune
+exige_.
+
+If I were really so rich, I could not, ought not to live as I had done.
+After a few days, I went to Frederick, who believed that I had suddenly
+been brought from Jerusalem by his letter, and I allowed him to rest in
+that belief, not wishing to add to a gratitude that already seemed
+excessive.
+
+Excuse the particulars, I was a veritable millionaire; I call Heaven to
+witness that my first impulse was to go in search of my beloved beacon,
+to relieve, if possible, the unfortunate one to whom it gave light.
+
+But then I thought so industrious a being was certainly proud, and I
+paused, fearing to offend a noble spirit.
+
+One month later, a night in May, I saw extinguished one by one, the
+thousand lights of the neighboring houses. Two single lamps burned in
+the gloom; they were the two old friends. For some time I stood gazing
+at the bright ray shining through the foliage, and when I felt upon my
+brow the first chill of the morning breeze, I cried in my saddened
+heart,
+
+"Farewell! farewell, little star, benign ray, beloved companion of my
+solitude! At this hour to-morrow, my eyes will seek but find thee not.
+And thou, whosoever thou art, working and suffering by that pale gleam,
+adieu, my sister! adieu, my brother! pursue thy destiny, watch and pray;
+may God shorten the time of thy probation."
+
+I bade also to my little room, not an eternal farewell, for I have kept
+it since, and will keep it all my life. I do not wish that while I live
+strangers shall scare away such a covey of beautiful dreams as I left in
+that humble nest.
+
+To see it again is one of the liveliest pleasures that my return to
+Paris offers. I shall find everything in the same order as when I left;
+but will the little star shine from the same corner of the heavens?
+
+Thanks to Frederick's care my affairs were in order, and I set out
+immediately for Rome, because when one is expected from the end of the
+world one must at least return from somewhere.
+
+Such is, dear Edgar, the history of my journeys and my love affairs.
+Keep them sacred. We are all so worthless, that, when one of us does
+some good by chance, he should remain silent for fear of humiliating his
+neighbor.
+
+My health once established, I shall go to my mountains of Creuse and
+then come to you. Do not expect me until July; at that time Don Quixote
+will make his appearance under the apple trees of Richeport, provided,
+however, he is not caught up on this route by Lady Penock or some
+windmill.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,
+Richeport,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, 24th May, 18--,
+
+Your letter did me good, my dear Edgar, because it came unexpected, from
+the domain of epistolary consolation. From any friend but you I would
+have received a sympathizing re-echo of my own accents of despair. From
+you I looked for a tranquillizing sedative, and you surprise me with a
+reanimating restorative.
+
+Your charming philosophy has indeed invented for mortals a remedy
+unknown to the four faculties.
+
+Thanks to you, I breathe freely this morning. 'Tis necessary for us to
+take breath during ardent crises of despair. A deep breath brings back
+the power of resignation to our hearts. Yet I am not duped by your too
+skilful friendship. I clearly perceive the interest you take in my
+situation in spite of your artistically labored adroitness to conceal
+it. This knowledge induces me to write you the second chapter of my
+history, quite sure that you will read it with a serious brow and answer
+it with a smiling pen.
+
+Young people of your disposition, either from deep calculation or by
+happy instinct, substitute caprice for passion; they amuse themselves by
+walking by the side of love, but never meet it face to face. For them
+women exist, but never one woman. This system with them succeeds for a
+season, sometimes it lasts for ever. I have known some old men who made
+this scheme the glory of their lives, and who kept it up from mere force
+of habit till their heads were white.
+
+You, my dear Edgar, will not have the benefit of final impenitence. At
+present the ardor of your soul is tempered by the suave indolence of
+your disposition.
+
+Love is the most merciless and wearisome of all labors, and you are far
+too lazy to toil at it. When you suddenly look into the secret depths
+of your _self_, you will be frightened by discovering the germ of a
+serious passion; then you will try to escape on the wings of fancy to
+the realms of easy and careless pleasure. The fact of my having
+penetrated, unknown to you, this secret recess of your soul, makes me
+venture to confide my sorrows to you; continue to laugh at them, your
+railing will be understood, while friendship will ignore the borrowed
+mask and trust in the faithful face beneath.
+
+Paris is still a desert. The largest and most populous city becomes
+obscure and insignificant at your feet when you view it from the heights
+of an all-absorbing passion. I feel as isolated as if I were on the
+South Sea or on the sands of Sahara. Happily our bodies assume
+mechanical habits that act instead of the will. Without this precious
+faculty of matter my isolation would lead me to a dreamy and stupid
+immobility. Thus, in the eyes of strangers, my life is always the same.
+They see no change in my manners and appearance; I keep up my
+acquaintances and pleasures and seek the society of my friends. I have
+not the heart to join a conversation, but leave it to be carried on by
+others. My fixed attention and absorbed manner of listening convey the
+idea that I am deeply interested in what is being said, and he who
+undertakes to relate anything to me is so satisfied with my style of
+listening that he prolongs to infinity his monologue. Then my thoughts
+take flight and travel around the world; to the seas, archipelagoes,
+continents and deserts I have visited. These are the only moments of
+relief that I enjoy, for I have the modesty to refrain from thinking of
+my love in the presence of others. I still possess enough innocence of
+heart to believe that the four letters of this sweetest of all words
+would be stamped on my brow in characters of fire, thus betraying a
+secret that indifference responds to with pitying smiles or heartless
+jeers.
+
+The thousand memories sown here and there in my peregrinations pass so
+vividly before me, that, standing in the bright sunlight, with eyes
+open, I dream over again those visions of my sleepless nights in foreign
+lands.
+
+Thought, ever-rebellious thought, which the most imperious will can
+neither check nor guide, begins to wander over the world, thus kindly
+granting a truce to the torments of my passions; then it works to suit
+my wishes, a complaisance it never shows me when I am alone. I am
+indebted for this relief to the officious and loquacious intervention of
+the first idler I meet, one whose name I scarcely know, although he
+calls me his friend. I always gaze with a feeling of compassionate
+benevolence upon the retreating steps of this unfortunate gossip, who
+leaves with the idea of having diverted me by his monologue to which my
+eyes alone have listened. As a general thing, people whom you meet have
+started out with one dominant idea or engrossing subject, and they
+imagine that the universe is disposed to attach the same importance to
+the matter that they themselves do. These expectations are often
+gratified, for the streets are filled by hungry listeners who wander
+around with ears outstretched, eager to share any and everybody's
+secrets.
+
+A serious passion reveals to us a world within a world. Thus far, all
+that I have seen and heard seems to be full of error; men and things
+assume aspects under which I fail to recognise them. It seems as though
+I had yesterday been born a second time, and that my first life has left
+me nothing but confused recollections, and in this chaos of the past, I
+vainly seek for a single rule of conduct for the present. I have dipped
+into books written on the passions; I have read every sentence,
+aphorism, drama, tragedy and romance written by the sages; I have sought
+among the heroes of history and of the stage for the human expression of
+a sentiment to which my own experience might respond, and which would
+serve me as a guide or consolation.
+
+I am, as it were, in a desert island where nothing betrays the passage
+of man, and I am compelled to dwell there without being able to trace
+the footsteps of those who have gone before. Yesterday I was present at
+the representation of the _Misanthrope_. I said to myself, here is a man
+in love; his character is drawn by a master hand, they say; he listens
+to sonnets, hums a little song, disputes with a bad author, discourses
+at length with his rivals, sustains a philosophical disputation with a
+friend, is churlish to the woman he loves, and finally is consoled by
+saying he will hide himself from the eyes of the world.
+
+I would erect, at my own expense, a monument to Moliere if Alceste would
+make my love take this form.
+
+I have never seen an inventory of the torments of love--some of them
+have the most vulgar and some the most innocent names in the world. Some
+poet make his love-sick hero say:--
+
+  "Un jour, Dieu, par pitie, delivra les enfers
+  Des tourments que pour vous, madame, j'ai soufferts!"
+
+I thought the poet intended to develop his idea, but unfortunately the
+tirade here ends. 'Tis always very vague, cloudy poetry that describes
+unknown torments; it seems to be a popular style, however, for all the
+poetry of the present day is confined to misty complaints in cloudy
+language. No moralist is specific in his sorrows. All lovers cry out in
+chorus that they suffer horribly. Each suffering deserves an analysis
+and a name. By way of example, my dear Edgar, I will describe one
+torment that I am sure you have never known or even heard of, happy
+mortal that you are!
+
+The headquarters of this torment is at the office of the Poste-Restante,
+on Jean-Jacques-Rousseau street. The lovers in _la Nouvelle Heloise_
+never mentioned this place of torture, although they wrote so many
+love-letters.
+
+I have opened a correspondence with three of my servants--this
+torture, however, is not the one to which I allude. These three men, at
+this present moment, are sojourning in the three neighboring towns in
+which Mlle. de Chateaudun has acquaintances, relations or friends. One
+of these towns is Fontainebleau, where she first went when she left
+Paris. I have charged them to be very circumspect in obtaining all the
+information they can concerning her movements. Her mysterious retreat
+must be in one of these three localities, so I watch them all. I told
+them to direct all my letters to the Poste-Restante.
+
+My porter, with the cunning sagacity of his profession, imagines he has
+discovered some scandalous romance, because he brings me every day a
+letter in the handwriting of my valet. You may imagine the complication
+of my torment. I am afraid of my porter, therefore I go myself to the
+post-office, that receptacle of all the secrets of Paris.
+
+Usually the waiting-room is full of wretched men, each an epistolary
+Tantalus, who, with eyes fixed on the wooden grating, implore the clerk
+for a post-marked deception. 'Tis a sad spectacle, and I am sure that
+there is a post-office in purgatory, where tortured souls go to inquire
+if their deliverance has been signed in heaven.
+
+The clerks in the post-office never seem to be aware of the impatient
+murmurs around them. What administrative calmness beams on the fresh
+faces of these distributors of consolation and of despair! In the agony
+of waiting, minutes lose their mathematical value, and the hands of the
+clock become motionless on the dial like impaled serpents. The
+operations of the office proceed with a slowness that seems like a
+miniature eternity. This anxious crowd stand in single file, forming a
+living chain of eager notes of interrogation, and, as fate always
+reserves the last link for me, I have to witness the filing-off of these
+troubled souls. This office brings men close together, and obliterates
+all social distinctions; in default of letters one always receives
+lessons of equality gratis.
+
+Here you see handsome young men whose dishevelled locks and pale faces
+bear traces of sleepless nights--the Damocles of the Bourse, who feels
+the sword of bankruptcy hanging over his head--forsaken sweethearts,
+whose hopes wander with beating drums upon African shores--timid women
+veiled in black, weeping and mourning for the dead, so as to smile more
+effectively upon the living.
+
+If each person were to call out the secret of his letter, the clerks
+themselves would veil their faces and forget the postal alphabet. A
+painful silence reigns over this scene of anxious waiting; at long
+intervals a hoarse voice calls out his Christian name, and woe to its
+owner if his ancestors have not bequeathed him a short or easily
+pronounced one.
+
+The other day I was present at a strange scene caused by the association
+of seven syllables. An unhappy-looking wretch went up to the railing and
+gave out his name--_Sidoine Tarboriech_--these two words inflicted on us
+the following dialogue:--"Is it all one name?" asked the clerk, without
+deigning to glance at the unfortunate owner of these syllables. "Two
+names," said the man, timidly, as if he were fully aware of the disgrace
+inflicted upon him at the baptismal font. "Did you say _Antoine_?" said
+the clerk. "Sidoine, Monsieur." "Is it your Christian name?" "'Tis the
+name of my godfather, Saint Sidoine, 23 of August." "Ah! there is a
+Saint Sidoine, is there? Well, Sidoine ... Sidoine--what else?"
+"Tarboriech." "Are you a German?" "From Toulon, opposite the Arsenal."
+
+During this dialogue the rest of the unfortunates broke their chain with
+convulsive impatience, and made the floor tremble under the nervous
+stamping of their feet. The clerk calmly turned over with his
+methodically bent finger, a large bundle of letters, and would
+occasionally pause when the postal hieroglyphics effaced an address
+under a total eclipse of crests, seals and numbers recklessly heaped on;
+for the clerk who posts and endorses the letters takes great pains to
+cover the address with a cloud of ink, this little peculiarity all
+postmen delight in. But to return to our dialogue: "Excuse me, sir,"
+said the clerk, "did you say your name is spelt with _Dar_ or _Tar_?"
+"_Tar_, sir, _Tar!_ "--"With a _D?_"--"No, sir, with a _T.,
+Tarboriech!_" "We have nothing for you, sir." "Oh, sir, impossible!
+there certainly _must_ be a letter for me." "There is no letter, sir;
+nothing commencing with T." "Did you look for my Christian name,
+Sidoine?" "But, sir, we don't arrange the mail according to Christian
+names." "But you know, sir, I am a younger son, and at home I am called
+Sidoine."
+
+This interesting dialogue was now drowned by the angry complaining of
+some young men, who in a state of exasperation stamped up and down the
+room jerking out an epigrammatic psalm of lamentations. I'll give you a
+few verses of it: "Heavens! some names ought to be suppressed! This is
+getting to be intolerable, when a man has the misfortune to be named
+_Extasboriech_, he ought _not_ to have his letters sent to the
+_Poste_-Restante! If I were afflicted with such a name, I would have the
+Keeper of the Seals to change it."
+
+The imperturbable clerk smiled blandly through his little barred window,
+and said, "Gentlemen, we must do our duty scrupulously, I only do for
+this gentleman what each of you would wish done for yourself under
+similar circumstances."
+
+"Oh, of course!" cried out one young man, who was wildly buttoning and
+unbuttoning his coat as if he wanted to fight the subject through; "but
+we are not cursed with names so abominable as this man's!"
+
+"Gentlemen," said the clerk, "no offensive personalities, I beg." Then
+turning to the miserable culprit, he continued: "Can you tell me, sir,
+from what place you expect a letter?" "From Lavalette, monsieur, in the
+province of Var." "Very good; and you think that perhaps your Christian
+name only is on the address--Sidoine?"
+
+"My cousin always calls me Sidoine."
+
+"His cousin is right," said a sulky voice in the corner.
+
+This, my dear Edgar, is a sample of the non-classified tortures that I
+suffer every morning in this den of expiation, before I, the last one of
+all, can reach the clerk's sanctuary; once there I assume a careless air
+and gay tone of voice as I negligently call out my name. No doubt you
+think this a very simple, easy thing to do, but first listen a moment: I
+felt the "Star" gradually sinking under me near the Malouine Islands,
+the sixty-eighth degree of latitude kept me a prisoner in its sea of ice
+at the South Pole; I passed two consecutive days and nights on board the
+_Esmerelda_, between fire and inundation; and if I were to extract the
+quintessence of the agonies experienced upon these three occasions it
+could never equal the intense torture I suffer at the Poste-Restante.
+Three seals broken, three letters opened, three overwhelming
+disappointments! Nothing! nothing! nothing! Oh miserable synonym of
+despair! Oh cruel type of death! Why do you appear before me each day
+as if to warn my foolish heart that all hope is dead! Then how dreary
+and empty to me is this cold, unfeeling world we move in! I feel
+oppressed by the weight of my sorrowful yearning that hourly grows more
+unbearable and more hopeless; my lungs seem filled with leaden air, and
+all the blood in my heart stands still. In thinking of the time that
+must be dragged through till this same hour to-morrow, I feel neither
+the strength nor courage to endure it with its intolerable succession of
+eternal minutes. How can I bridge over this gulf of twenty-four hours
+that divides to-day from to-morrow? How false are all the ancient and
+modern allegories, invented to afflict man with the knowledge that his
+days are rapidly passing away! How foolish is that wisdom that mourns
+over our fugitive years as being nothing but a few short minutes! I
+would give all my fortune to be able to write the _Hora Fugit_ of the
+poet, and offer for the first time to man these two words as an axiom of
+immutable truth.
+
+There is nothing absolutely true in all the writings of the sages.
+Figures even, in their inexorable and systematic order, have their
+errors just as often as do words and apothems. An hour of pain and an
+hour of pleasure have no resemblance to each other save on the dial.
+_My_ hours are weary years.
+
+You understand then, my dear Edgar, that I write you these long letters,
+not to please you, but to relieve my own mind. In writing to you I
+divert my attention from painful contemplation, and expatriate my ideas.
+A pen is the only instrument capable of killing time when time wishes to
+kill us. A pen is the faithless auxiliary of thought; unknown to us it
+sometimes penetrates the secret recesses of our hearts, where we
+flattered ourselves the horizon of our sorrows was hid from the world.
+
+Thus, if you discover in my letter any symptoms of mournful gayety, you
+may know they are purely pen-fancies. I have no connection with them
+except that my fingers guide the pen.
+
+Sometimes I determine to abandon Paris and bury myself in some rural
+retreat, where lonely meditation may fill my sorrowing heart with the
+balm of oblivion; but in charity to myself I wish to avoid the absurdity
+of this self-deception. Nothing is more hurtful than trying a useless
+remedy, for it destroys your confidence in all other remedies, and fills
+your soul with despair. Then, again, Paris is peculiarly fitted for
+curing these nameless maladies--'tis the modern Thebais, deserted
+because 'tis crowded--silent because 'tis noisy; there, every man can
+pitch his tent and nurse his favorite sorrows without being disturbed by
+intruders. Solitude is the worst of companions when you wish to drown
+the past in Lethe's soothing stream. However, 'tis useless for me to
+reason in this apparently absurd way in order to compel myself to remain
+in the heart of this great city, for I cannot and must not quit Paris at
+present; 'tis the central point of my operations; here I can act with
+the greatest efficacy in the combinations of my searches--to leave Paris
+is to break the threads of my labyrinth. Besides, my duties as a man of
+the world impose cruel tortures upon me; if fate continues to work
+against me and I am compelled to retire from the world, the consolation
+of having escaped these social tortures will be mine; so you see, after
+all, there is a silver lining to my dark cloud. When we cannot attain
+good we can mitigate the evil.
+
+Last Thursday Countess L. opened the season with an unusual event--a
+betrothment ball. Her select friends were invited to a sort of rehearsal
+of the wedding party; her beautiful cousin is to be married to our young
+friend Didier, whom we named Scipio Africanus. Marshal Bugeaud has given
+him a six-months' leave, and healed his wounded shoulder with a
+commander's epaulette.
+
+Now, I know you will agree with me that my presence was necessary at
+this ball. I nerved myself for this new agony, and arrived there in the
+middle of a quadrille. Never did a comedian, stepping on the stage,
+study his manner and assume a gay look with more care than I did as I
+entered the room. I glided through the figures of the dance, and reached
+the further end of the ball-room which was filled with gossiping
+dowagers. Now I began to play my role of a happy man.
+
+Everybody knows I am weak enough to enjoy a ball with all the passion
+of a young girl, therefore I willingly joined the dancers. I selected a
+sinfully ugly woman, so as to direct my devotions to the antipodes of
+beauty--the more unlike Irene the better for me. My partner possessed
+that charming wit that generally accompanies ideal ugliness in a woman.
+We talked, laughed, danced with foolish gayety--each note of the music
+was accompanied by a witticism--we exchanged places and sallies at the
+same time--we invented a new style of conversation, very preferable to
+the dawdling gossip of a drawing-room. There is an exhilaration
+attending a conversation carried on with your feet flying and
+accompanied by delightful music; every eye gazed at us; every ear, in
+the whirl of the dance, almost touched our lips and caught what we said.
+Our gayety seemed contagious, and the whole room smiled approval. My
+partner was radiant with joy; the fast moving of her feet, the
+excitement of her mind, the exaltation of triumph, the halo of wit had
+transfigured this woman; she positively appeared handsome!
+
+For one instant I forgot my despair in the happy thought that I had just
+done the noblest deed of my life; I had danced with a wall-flower, whose
+only crime was her ugliness, and had changed her misery into bliss by
+rendering her all the intoxicating ovations due only to beauty.
+
+But alas! there was a fatal reaction awaiting me. Glancing across the
+room I intercepted the tender looks of two lovers, looks of mutual love
+that brought me back to my own misery, and made my heart bleed afresh at
+the thought that love like this might have been mine! What is more
+touchingly beautiful than the sight of a betrothed couple who exist in a
+little world of their own, and, ignoring the indifferent crowd around
+them, gaze at each other with such a wealth of love and trust in the
+future! I brought this image of a promised but lost happiness home with
+me. Oh! if I could blame Irene I would console myself by flying in a fit
+of legitimate anger! but this resource fails me--I can blame no one but
+myself. Irene knows not how dear she is to me, I only half told her of
+my love,--I flattered myself that I had a long future in which to prove
+my devotion by deeds instead of words. Had she known how deeply I loved
+her, she never could have deserted me.
+
+Your unhappy friend,
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street (Paris).
+
+Richeport, May 26th 18--.
+
+Dear Roger:--You have understood me. I did not wish to annoy you with
+hackneyed condolences or sing with you an elegiac duet; but I have not
+the less sympathized with your sorrows; I have even evolved a system out
+of them. Were I forsaken, I should deplore the blindness of the
+unfortunate creature who could renounce the happiness of possessing me,
+and congratulate myself upon getting rid of a heart unworthy of me.
+Besides, I have always felt grateful to those benevolent beauties who
+take upon themselves the disagreeable task of breaking off an
+engagement. At first, there is a slight feeling of wounded self-love,
+but as I have for some time concluded that the world contains an
+infinity of beings endowed with charms superior to mine, it only lasts a
+moment, and if the scratch bleed a little, I consider myself indemnified
+by a tirade against woman's bad taste. Since you do not possess this
+philosophy, Mlle. de Chateaudun must be found, at any cost; you know my
+principles: I have a profound respect for any genuine passion. We will
+not discuss the merits or the faults of Irene; you desire her, that
+suffices; you shall have her, or I will lose the little Malay I learnt
+in Java when I went to see those dancing-girls, whose preference has
+such a disastrous effect upon Europeans. Your secret police is about to
+be increased by a new spy; I espouse your anger, and place myself
+entirely at the service of your wrath. I know some of the relatives of
+Mlle. de Chateaudun, who has connections in the neighboring departments,
+and in your behalf I have beaten about the chateaux for many miles
+around. I have not yet found what I am searching for; but I have
+discovered in the dullest houses a number of pretty faces who would ask
+nothing better, dear Roger, than to console you, that is if you are not,
+like Rachel, refusing to be comforted; for if there be no lack of women
+always ready to decoy a successful lover, some can, also, be found
+disposed to undertake the cure of a profound despair; these are the
+services which the best friends cheerfully render. I will only permit
+myself to ask you one question. Are you sure, before abandoning yourself
+to the violence of an invisible grief, that Mlle. de Chateaudun has ever
+existed? If she exists, she cannot have evaporated! The diamond alone
+ascends entire to heaven and disappears, leaving no trace behind. One
+cannot abstract himself, in this way, like a quintessence from a
+civilized centre; in 18--the suppression of any human being seems to me
+impossible. Mademoiselle Irene has been too well brought up to throw
+herself into the water like a grisette; if she had done so, the zephyrs
+would have borne ashore her cloak or her umbrella; a woman's bonnet,
+when it comes from Beaudrand, always floats. Perhaps she wishes to
+subject you to some romantic ordeal to see if you are capable of dying
+of grief for her; do not gratify her so far. Double your serenity and
+coolness, and, if need be, paint like a dowager; it is necessary to
+sustain before these affected dames the dignity of the uglier sex of
+which we have the honor of forming a part. I approve the position you
+have taken. The Pale Faces should bear moral torture with the same
+impassiveness with which the Red Skins endure physical torture.
+
+Roaming about in your interests, I had the beginning of an adventure
+which I must recount to you. It does not relate to a duchess, I warn
+you; I leave those sort of freaks to republicans. In love-making, I
+value beauty solely, it is the only aristocracy I look for; pretty women
+are baronesses, charming ones countesses; beauties become marchionesses,
+and I recognise a queen by her hands and not by her sceptre, by her brow
+and not by her crown. Such is my habit. Beyond this I am without
+prejudice; I do not disdain princesses provided they are as handsome as
+simple peasants.
+
+I had a presentiment that Alfred intended paying me a visit, and with
+that wonderful acuteness which characterizes me, I said to myself: If he
+comes here, hospitality will force me to endure the agony of his
+presence as long as he pleases to impose it upon me, a torture forgotten
+in Dante's Hell; if I go to see him the situation is reversed. I can
+leave under the first indispensable pretext, that will not fail to offer
+itself, three days after my arrival, and I thus deprive him of all
+motive for invading my wigwam at Richeport. Whereupon I went to Nantes,
+where his relatives reside, with whom he is passing the summer.
+
+At the expiration of four hours I suddenly remembered that most urgent
+business recalled me to my mother; but what was my anguish, when I saw
+my execrable friend accompany me to the railroad station, in a traveling
+suit, a cap on his head, a valise under his arm! Happily, he was going
+to Havre by way of Rouen, and I was relieved from all fear of invasion.
+
+At this juncture, my dear friend, endeavor to tear yourself away, for a
+moment, from the contemplation of your grief, and take some interest in
+my story. To so distinguished a person as yourself it has at least the
+advantage of beginning in an entirely homely and prosaic manner. I
+should never have committed the error of writing you anything
+extraordinary; you are surfeited with the incredible; the supernatural
+is a twice-told tale; between you and the marvellous secret affinities
+exist; miracles hunt you up; you find yourself in conjunction with
+phenomena; what never happens has happened to you; and in the world that
+you, in every sense, have wandered o'er, no novelty offers itself but
+the common-place.
+
+The first time you ever attempted to do anything like other people--to
+marry--you failed. Your only talent is for the impossible; therefore, I
+hope that my recital, a little after the style of Paul de Kock's
+romances, an author admired by great ladies and kitchen girls, will give
+you infinite surprise and possess all the attraction and freshness of
+the unknown.
+
+There were already two persons in the compartment into which the
+conductor hurried us; two women, one old and the other young.
+
+To prevent Alfred from playing the agreeable, I took possession of the
+corner fronting the youngest, leaving to my tiresome friend the freezing
+perspective of the older woman.
+
+You know I have no fancy for sustaining what is called the honor of
+French gallantry--a gallantry which consists in wearying with ill-timed
+attention, with remarks upon the rain and the fine weather, interlarded
+with a thousand and one stupid rhymes, the women forced by circumstances
+to travel alone.
+
+I settled myself in my corner after making a slight bow on perceiving
+the presence of women in the car, one of whom evidently merited the
+attention of every young commercial traveler and troubadour. I set
+myself to examine my vis-a-vis, dividing my attention between
+picturesque studies and studies physiognomical.
+
+The result of my picturesque observations was that I never saw so many
+poppies before. Probably they were the red sparks from the locomotive
+taking root and blooming along the road.
+
+My physiognomical studies were more extended, and, without flattering
+myself, I believe Lavater himself would have approved them.
+
+The cowl does not make the friar, but dress makes the woman. I shall
+begin by giving you an extremely detailed description of the toilet of
+my incognita. This is an accustomed method, which proves that it is a
+good one, since everybody makes use of it. My fair unknown wore neither
+a bark blanket fastened about her waist, nor rings in her nose, nor
+bracelets on her ankles, nor rings on her toes, which must appear
+extraordinary to you.
+
+She wore, perhaps, the only costume that your collection lacks, that of
+a Parisian grisette. You, who know by heart the name of every article of
+a Hottentot's attire, who are strong upon Esquimaux fashions and know
+just how many rows of pins a Patagonian of the haut ton wears in her
+lower lip, have never thought of sketching such an one.
+
+A well-approved description of a grisette should commence with her foot.
+The grisette is the Andalouse of Paris; she possesses the talent of
+being able to pass through the mire of Lutetia on tiptoe, like a dancer
+who studies her steps, without soiling her white stockings with a single
+speck of mud. The manolas of Madrid, the cigaretas of Seville in their
+satin slippers are not better shod; mine--pardon the anticipation of
+this possessive pronoun--put forward from under the seat an
+irreproachable boot and aristocratically turned ankle. If she would give
+me that graceful buskin to place in my museum beside the shoe of
+Carlotta Grisi, the Princess Houn-Gin's boot and Gracia of Grenada's
+slipper, I would fill it with gold or sugar-plums, as she pleased.
+
+As to her dress, I acknowledge, without any feeling of mortification,
+that it was of mousseline; but the secret of its making was preserved by
+the modiste. It was tight and easy at the same time, a perfect fit
+attained by Palmyre in her moments of inspiration; a black silk
+mantilla, a little straw bonnet trimmed plainly with ribbon, and a green
+gauze veil, half thrown back, completed the adornment, or rather absence
+of ornament, of this graceful creature.
+
+Heavens! I had like to have forgotten the gloves! Gloves are the weak
+point of a grisette's costume. To be fresh, they must be renewed often,
+but they cost the price of two days' work. Hers were, O horror!
+imitation Swedish, which truth compels me to value at nineteen
+ha'-pennies, or ninety-five centimes, to conform to the new monetary
+phraseology.
+
+A worsted work-bag, half filled, was placed beside her. What could it
+hold? Some circulating library novel? Do not be uneasy, the bag only
+contained a roll and a paper of bonbons from Boissier, dainties which
+play an important part in my story.
+
+Now I must draw you an exact sketch of this pretty Parisian's face--for
+such she was. A Parisian alone could wear, with such grace, a
+fifteen-franc bonnet.
+
+I abhor bonnets; nevertheless, on some occasions, I am forced to
+acknowledge that they produce quite a pleasing effect. They represent a
+kind of queer flower, whose core is formed of a woman's head; a
+full-blown rose, which, in the place of stamens and pistils, bears
+glances and smiles.
+
+The half-raised veil of my fair unknown only exposed to view a chin of
+perfect mould, a little strawberry mouth and half of her nose, perhaps
+three-quarters. What pretty, delicately turned nostrils, pink as the
+shells of the South Sea! The upper part of the face was bathed in a
+transparent, silvery shadow, under which the quiver of the eyelids might
+be imagined and the liquid fire of her glance. As to her cheeks--you
+must await the succession of events if you desire more ample
+description; for the ears of her bonnet, drawn down by the strings,
+concealed their contour; what could be seen of them was of a delicate
+rose color. Her eyes and hair will form a special paragraph.
+
+Now that you are sufficiently enlightened upon the subject of the
+perspective which your friend enjoyed on the cars between Mantes and
+Pont-de-l'Arche, I will pass to another exercise, highly recommended in
+rhetorical treatises, and describe, by way of a set-off and contrast,
+the female monster that served as shadow to this ideal grisette.
+
+This frightful companion appeared very suspicious. Was she the duenna,
+the mother or an old relative? At any rate she was very ugly, not
+because her head was like a stone mask with spiral eyebrows, and lips
+slashed like the fossa of a heraldic dolphin, but vulgarity had stamped
+the mask, making its features common, coarse and dull. The habit of
+servile compliance had deprived them of all true expression; she
+squinted, her smile was vaguely stupid, and she wore an air of spurious
+good-nature, indicative of country birth; a dark merino dress, cloak of
+sombre hue, a bonnet under which stood out the many ruffles of a rumpled
+cap, completed the attire of the creature.
+
+The grisette is a gay, chattering bird, which at fifteen escapes from
+the nest never to return; it is not her custom to drag about a mother
+after her, this is the special mania of actresses who resort to all
+sorts of tricks ignored by the proud and independent grisette. The
+grisette seems instinctively to know that the presence of an old woman
+about a young one exerts an unhealthy influence. It suggests sorcery and
+the witches' vigil; snails seek roses only to spread their slime over
+them, and old age only approaches youth from a discreditable motive.
+
+This woman was not the mother of my incognita; so sweet a flower could
+not grow upon such a rugged bush. I heard the antique say in the
+humblest tone, "Mlle, if you wish, I will put down the blind; the
+cinders might hurt you."
+
+Doubtless she was some relative; for a grisette never has a companion,
+and duennas pertain exclusively to Spanish infantas.
+
+Was my grisette simply an adventuress, graced by a hired mother to give
+her an air of respectability? No, there was the seal of simple honesty
+stamped upon her whole person; a care in the details of her simple
+toilet, which separated her from that venturous class. A wandering
+princess would not show such exactitude in her dress; she would betray
+herself by a ragged shawl worn over a new dress, by silk stockings with
+boots down at heel, by something ripped and out of order. Besides, the
+old woman did not take snuff nor smell of brandy.
+
+I made these observations in less time than it takes to write them,
+through Alfred's inexhaustible chatter, who imagines, like many people,
+that you are vexed if the conversation flags an instant. Besides,
+between you and me, I think he wished to impress these women with an
+idea of his importance, for he talked to me of the whole world. I do not
+know how it happened, but this whirlwind of words seemed to interest my
+incognita, who had all along remained quietly ensconced in her corner.
+The few words uttered by her were not at all remarkable; an observation
+upon a mass of great black clouds piled up in a corner of the horizon
+that threatened a shower; but I was charmed with the fresh and silvery
+tone of her voice. The music of the words--it is going to
+rain--penetrated my soul like an air from Bellini, and I felt something
+stir in my heart, which, well cultivated, might turn into love.
+
+The locomotive soon devoured the distance between Mantos and Pont de
+l'Arche. An abominable scraping of iron and twisting of brakes was
+heard, and the train stopped. I was terribly alarmed lest the grisette
+and her companion should continue their route, but they got out at the
+station. O Roger wasn't I a happy dog? While they were employed in
+hunting up some parcel, the vehicle which runs between the station and
+Pont de l'Arche left, weighed down with trunks and travellers; so that
+the two women and myself were compelled, in spite of the weather, to
+walk to Pont de l'Arche. Large drops began to sprinkle the dust. One of
+those big black clouds which I mentioned opened, and long streams of
+rain fell from its gloomy folds like arrows from an overturned quiver.
+
+A moss-covered shed, used to put away farming implements, odd
+cart-wheels, performed for us the same service as the classic grotto
+which sheltered Eneas and Dido under similar circumstances. The wild
+branches of the hawthorn and sweet-briar added to the rusticity of our
+asylum.
+
+My unknown, although visibly annoyed by this delay, resigned herself to
+her fate, and watched the rain falling in torrents. O Robinson Crusoe,
+how I envied you, at that moment, your famous goat-skin umbrella! how
+gracefully would I have offered its shelter to this beauty as far as
+Pont de l'Arche, for she was going to Pont de l'Arche, right into the
+lion's mouth. Time passed. The vehicle would not return until the next
+train was due, that is in five or six hours; I had not told them to come
+for me; our situation was most melancholy.
+
+My infanta opened daintily her little bag, took from it a roll and some
+bonbons, which she began to eat in the most graceful manner imaginable,
+but having breakfasted before leaving Mantes, I was dying of hunger; I
+suppose I must have looked covetously at her provisions, for she began
+to laugh and offered me half of her pittance, which I accepted. In the
+division, I don't know how it happened, but my hand touched hers--she
+drew it quickly away, and bestowed upon me a look of such royal disdain
+that I said to myself--This young girl is destined for the dramatic
+profession,--she plays the Marguerites and the Clytemnestras in the
+provinces until she possesses _embonpoint_ enough to appear at Porte
+Saint Martin or the Odeon. This vampire is her dresser--everything was
+clear.
+
+I promised you a paragraph upon her eyes and hair; her eyes were a
+changeable gray, sometimes blue, sometimes green, according to the
+expression and the light; her chestnut locks were separated in two
+glossy braids, half satin, half velvet--many a great lady would have
+paid high for such hair.
+
+The shower over, a wild resolution was unanimously taken to set out on
+foot for Pont de l'Arche, notwithstanding the mud and the puddles.
+
+Having entered into the good graces of the infanta by speech full of
+wisdom and gesture carefully guarded, we set out together, the old woman
+following a few steps behind, and the marvellous little boot arrived at
+its destination without being soiled the least in the world--grisettes
+are perfect partridges--the house of Madame Taverneau, the
+post-mistress, where my incognita stopped.
+
+You are a prince of very little penetration, dear Roger, if you have not
+divined that you will receive a letter from me every day, and even two,
+if I have to send empty envelopes or recopy the Complete Letter Writer.
+To whom will I not write? No minister of state will ever have so
+extended a correspondence.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+PONT DE L'ARCHE, May 29th 18--.
+
+Valentine, this time I rebel, and question your infallibility.
+
+It is useless for you to say to me, "You do not love him." I tell you I
+do love him, and intend to marry him. Nevertheless you excite my
+admiration in pronouncing against me this very well-turned sentence.
+"Genuine and fervid love is not so ingenuous. When you love deeply, you
+respect the object of your devotion and are fearful of giving offence by
+daring to test him.
+
+"When you love sincerely you are not so venturesome. It is so necessary
+for you to trust him, that you treasure up your faith and risk it not in
+suspicious trifling.
+
+"Real love is timid, it would rather err than suspect, it buries doubts
+instead of nursing them, and very wisely, for love cannot survive
+faith."
+
+This is a magnificent period, and you should send it to Balzac; he
+delights in filling his novels with such very woman-like phrases.
+
+I admit that your ideas are just and true when applied to love alone;
+but if this love is to end in marriage, the "test" is no longer
+"suspicious trifling," and one has the right to try the constancy of a
+character without offending the dignity of love.
+
+Marriage, and especially a marriage of inclination, is so serious a
+matter, that we cannot exercise too much prudence and reasonable delay
+before taking the final step.
+
+You say, "Love is timid;" well, so is Hymen. One dares not lightly utter
+the irrevocable promise, "Thine for life!" these words make us hesitate.
+
+When we wish to be honorable and faithfully keep our oaths, we pause a
+little before we utter them.
+
+Now I can hear you exclaim, "You are not in love; if you were, instead
+of being frightened by these words, they would reassure you; you would
+be quick to say 'Thine for life,' and you could never imagine that there
+existed any other man you could love."
+
+I am aware that this gives you weapons to be used against me; I know I
+am foolish! but--well, I feel that there is some one somewhere that I
+could love more deeply!
+
+This silly idea sometimes makes me pause and question, but it grows
+fainter daily, and I now confess that it is folly, childish to cherish
+such a fancy. In spite of your opinion, I persist in believing that I am
+in love with Roger. And when you know him, you will understand how
+natural it is for me to love him.
+
+I would at this very moment be talking to him in Paris but for you!
+Don't be astonished, for your advice prevented my returning to Paris
+yesterday.
+
+Alas! I asked you for aid, and you add to my anxiety.
+
+I left the hotel de Langeac with a joyful heart. The test will be
+favorable, thought I,--and when I have seen Roger in the depths of
+despair for a few days, seeking me everywhere, impatiently expecting me,
+blaming me a little and regretting me deeply, I will suddenly appear
+before him, happy and smiling! I will say, "Roger, you love me; I left
+you to think of you from afar, to question my own heart--to try the
+strength of your devotion; I now return without fear and with renewed
+confidence in myself and in you; never again shall we be separated!"
+
+I intend to frankly confess everything to him; but you say the
+confession will be fatal to me. "If you intend to marry M. de Moubert,
+for Heaven's sake keep him in ignorance of the motive of your departure;
+invent an excuse--be called off to perform a duty--to nurse a sick
+friend; choose any story you please, rather than let him suspect you ran
+away to experiment upon the degree of his love."
+
+You add, "he loves you devotedly and never will he forgive you for
+inflicting on him these unnecessary sufferings; a proud and deserving
+love never pardons suspicious and undeserved trials of its faith."
+
+Now what can I do? Invent a falsehood? All falsehoods are stupid! Then I
+would have to write it, for I could not undertake to lie to his face.
+With strangers and people indifferent to me, I might manage it; but to
+look into the face of the man who loves me, who gazes so honestly into
+my eyes when I speak to him, who understands every expression of my
+countenance, who observes and admires the blush that flushes my cheek,
+who is familiar with every modulation of my voice, as a musician with
+the tones of his instrument--
+
+Why, it is a moral impossibility to attempt such a thing! A forced
+smile, a false tone, would put him on his guard at once; he becomes
+suspicious.
+
+At his first question my fine castle of lies vanishes into air, and I
+have to fall back on the unvarnished truth.
+
+To gratify you, Valentine, I will lie, but lie at a distance. I feel
+that it is necessary to put many stations and provinces between my
+native candor and the people I am to deceive.
+
+Why do you scold me so much? You must see that I have not acted
+thoughtlessly; my conduct is strange, eccentric and mysterious to no one
+but Roger.
+
+To every one else it is perfectly proper. I am supposed to be in the
+neighborhood of Fontainebleau, with the Duchess de Langeac, at her
+daughter's house; and as the poor girl is very sick and receives no
+company, I can disappear for a short time without my absence calling
+forth remark, or raising an excitement in the country.
+
+I have told my cousin a part of the truth--she understands my scruples
+and doubts. She thinks it very natural that I should wish to consider
+the matter over before engaging myself for life; she knows that I am
+staying with an old friend, and as I have promised to return home in two
+weeks, she is not a bit uneasy about me.
+
+"My child," she said when we parted, "if you decide to marry, I will go
+with you to Paris; if not, you shall go with us to enjoy the waters of
+Aix." I have discovered that Aix is a good place to learn news of our
+friends in Isere. You also reproach me for not having told Roger all my
+troubles; for having hidden from him what you flatteringly call "the
+most beautiful pages of my life."
+
+O, Valentine! in this matter I am wiser than you, in spite of your
+matronly experience and acknowledged wisdom. Doubtless you understand
+better than I do, the serious affairs of life, but about the
+frivolities, I think I know best, and I tell you that courage in a woman
+is not an attraction in the eyes of these latter-day beaux.
+
+Their weak minds, with an affected nicety, prefer a sighing,
+supplicating coquette, decked in pretty ribbons, surrounded by luxuries
+that are the price of her dignity; one who pours her sorrows into the
+lover's ear--yes! I say they prefer such a one to a noble woman who
+bravely faces misery with proud resignation, who refuses the favors of
+those she despises, and calm, strong, self-reliant, waters with her
+tears her hard-earned bread.
+
+Believe me, men are more inclined to love women they can pity than women
+they must admire and respect; feminine courage in adversity is to them a
+disagreeable picture in an ugly frame; that is to say, a poorly dressed
+woman in a poorly furnished room. So you now see why, not wishing to
+disgust my future husband, I was careful that he should not see this
+ugly picture.
+
+Ah! you speak to me of my dear ideal, and you say you love him? Ah! to
+him alone could I fearlessly read these beautiful pages of my life. But
+let us banish him from our minds; I would forget him!
+
+Once I was very near betraying myself; my cousin and I called on a
+Russian lady residing in furnished apartments on Rivoli street.
+
+M. de Monbert was there--as I took a seat near the fire, the Countess R.
+handed me a screen--I at once recognised a painting of my own. It
+represented Paul and Virginia gardening with Domingo.
+
+How horrible did all three look! Time and dust had curiously altered the
+faces of my characters; by an inexplicable phenomenon Virginia and
+Domingo had changed complexions; Virginia was a negress, and Domingo was
+enfranchised, bleached, he had cast aside the tint of slavery and was a
+pure Caucasian. The absurdity of the picture made me laugh, and M. de
+Monbert inquired the cause of my merriment. I showed him the screen, and
+he said "How very horrible!" and I was about to add "I painted it," when
+some one interrupted us, and so prevented the betrayal of my secret.
+
+You will not have to scold me any more; I am going to take your advice
+and leave Pont de l'Arche to-day. Oh I how I wish I were in Paris this
+minute! I am dreadfully tired of this little place, it is so wearying to
+play poverty.
+
+When I was really poor, the modest life I had to lead, the cruel
+privations I had to suffer, seemed to me to be noble and dignified.
+
+Misery has its grandeur, and every sorrow has its poetry; but when the
+humility of life is voluntary and privations mere caprices, misery loses
+all its prestige, and the romantic sufferings we needlessly impose on
+ourselves, are intolerable, because there is no courage or merit in
+enduring them.
+
+This sentiment I feel must be natural, for my old companion in
+misfortune, my good and faithful Blanchard, holds the same views that I
+do. You know how devoted she was to me during my long weary days of
+trouble!
+
+She faithfully served me three years with no reward other than the
+approval of her own conscience. She, who was so proud of keeping my
+mother's house, resembling a stewardess of the olden time; when
+misfortune came, converted herself for my sake into maid of all work!
+Inspired by love for me, she patiently endured the hardships and
+dreariness of our sad situation; not a complaint, not a murmur, not a
+reproach. To see her so quietly resigned, you would have supposed that
+she had been both chamber-maid and cook all her life, that is if you
+never tasted her dishes! I shall always remember her first dinner. O,
+the Spartan broth of that day! She must have gotten the receipt from
+"The Good Lacedemonian Cook Book."
+
+I confidently swallowed all she put before me. Strange and mysterious
+ragout! I dared not ask what was in it, but I vainly sought for the
+relics of any animal I had ever seen; what did she make it of? It is a
+secret that I fear I shall die without discovering.
+
+Well, this woman, so devoted, so resigned in the days of adversity; this
+feminine Caleb, whose generous care assuaged my misery; who, when I
+suffered, deemed it her duty to suffer with me; when I worked day and
+night, considered it an honor to labor day and night with me--now that
+she knows we are restored to our fortune, cannot endure the least
+privation.
+
+All day long she complains. Every order is received with imprecatory
+mutterings, such as "What an idiotic idea! What folly! to be as rich as
+Croesus and find amusement in poverty! To come and live in a little hole
+with common people and refuse to visit duchesses in their castles!
+People must not be surprised if I don't obey orders that I don't
+understand."
+
+She is stubborn and refractory. She will drive me to despair, so
+determined does she seem to thwart all my plans. I tell her to call me
+Madame; she persists in calling me Mademoiselle. I told her to bring
+simple dresses and country shoes; she has brought nothing but
+embroidered muslins, cobweb handkerchiefs and gray silk boots. I
+entreated her to put on a simple dress, when she came with me. This made
+her desperate, and through vengeance and maliciously exaggerated zeal
+she bundled herself up like an old witch. I tried to make her comprehend
+that her frightfulness far exceeded my wildest wishes; she thereupon
+disarmed me with this sublime reply:
+
+"I had nothing but new hats and new shawls, and so had to _borrow_ these
+clothes to obey Mademoiselle's orders."
+
+Would you believe it? The proud old woman has destroyed or hidden all
+the old clothes that were witnesses of our past misery. I am more
+humble, and have kept everything. When I returned to my little garret, I
+was delighted to see again my modest furniture, my pretty pink chintz
+curtains, my thin blue carpet, my little ebony shelves, and then all the
+precious objects I had saved from the wreck; my father's old
+easy-chair, my mother's work-table, and all of our family portraits,
+concealed, like proud intruders, in one corner of the room, where
+haughty marshals, worthy prelates, coquettish marquises, venerable
+abbesses, sprightly pages and gloomy cavaliers all jostled together, and
+much astonished to find themselves in such a wretched little room, and
+what is worse, shamefully disowned by their unworthy descendant. I love
+my garret, and remained there three days before coming here; and there I
+left my fine princess dresses and put on my modest travelling suit;
+there the elegant Irene once more became the interesting widow of the
+imaginary Albert Guerin. We started at nine in the morning. I had the
+greatest difficulty in getting ready for the early train, so soon have I
+forgotten my old habit of early rising. When I look back and recall how
+for three years I arose at dawn, it looks like a wretched dream. I
+suppose it is because I have become so lazy.
+
+It is distressing to think that only six months have passed since I was
+raised from the depths of poverty, and here I am already spoiled by good
+fortune!
+
+Misfortune is a great master, but like all masters he only is obeyed
+when present; we work with him, but when his back is turned forget his
+admonitions.
+
+We reached the depot as the train was starting, obtaining comfortable
+seats. I met with a most interesting adventure, that is, interesting to
+me; how small the world is! I had for a companion an old friend of
+Roger, but who fortunately did not know me; it was M. Edgar de Meilhan,
+the poet, whose talents I admire, and whose acquaintance I had long
+desired; judging from his conversation he must be quite an original
+character. But he was accompanied by one of those explanatory gossips
+who seem born to serve as cicerones to the entire world, and render
+useless all penetrating perspicacity.
+
+These sort of bores are amusing to meet on a journey; rather well
+informed, they quote their favorite authors very neatly in order to
+display the extent of their information; they also have a happy way of
+imposing on the ignorant people, who sit around with wide-stretched
+mouths, listening to the string of celebrated names so familiarly
+repeated as to indicate a personal intimacy with each and all of them;
+in a word, it is a way of making the most of your acquaintance, as your
+witty friend M.L. would say. Now I must give you a portrait of this
+gentleman; it shall be briefly done.
+
+He was an angular man, with a square forehead, a square nose, a square
+mouth, a square chin, a square smile, a square hand, square shoulders,
+square gayety, square jokes; that is to say, he is coarse, heavy and
+rugged. A coarse mind cultivated often appears smooth and moves easily
+in conversation, but a square mind is always awkward and threatening.
+Well, this square man evidently "made the most of his acquaintances" for
+my benefit, for poor little me, an humble violet met by chance on the
+road! He spoke of M. Guizot having mentioned this to him; of M. Thiers,
+who dined with him lately, having said that to him; of Prince Max de
+Beauvau, whom he bet with at the last Versailles races; of the beautiful
+Madame de Magnoncourt, with whom he danced at the English ambassador's
+ball; of twenty other distinguished personages with whom he was
+intimate, and finally he mentioned Prince Roger de Monbert, the
+eccentric tiger-hunter, who for the last two months had been the lion of
+Paris. At the name of Roger I became all attention; the square man
+continued:
+
+"But you, my dear Edgar, were brought up with him, were you not?"
+
+"Yes," said the poet.
+
+"Have you seen him since his return?"
+
+"Not yet, but I hear from him constantly; I had a letter yesterday."
+
+"They say he is engaged to the beautiful heiress, Irene de Chateaudun,
+and will be married very soon."
+
+"'Tis an idle rumor," said M. de Meilhan, in a dry tone that forced his
+dreadful friend to select another topic of conversation.
+
+Oh, how curious I was to find out what Roger had written to M. de
+Meilhan! Roger had a confidant! He had told him about me! What could he
+have said? Oh, this dreadful letter! What would I not give to see it! My
+sole thought is, how can I obtain it; unconsciously I gazed at M. de
+Meilhan, with an uneasy perplexity that must have astonished him and
+given him a queer idea of my character.
+
+I was unable to conceal my joy, when I heard him say he lived at
+Richeport, and that he intended stopping at Pont de l'Arche, which is
+but a short distance from his estate; my satisfaction must have appeared
+very strange.
+
+A dreadful storm detained us two hours in the neighborhood of the depot.
+We remained in company under the shed, and watched the falling rain. My
+situation was embarrassing; I wished to be agreeable and polite to M. de
+Meilhan that I might encourage him to call at Madama Taverneau's, Pont
+de l'Arche, and then again I did not wish to be so very gracious and
+attentive as to inspire him with too much assurance. It was a difficult
+game to play. I must boldly risk making a bad impression, and at the
+same time keep him at a respectful distance. Well, I succeeded in
+solving the problem within the pale of legitimate curiosity, offering to
+share with my companion in misfortune a box of bon-bons, intended for
+Madame Taverneau.
+
+But what attentions he showered on me before meriting this great
+sacrifice! What ingenious umbrellas he improvised for me under this
+inhospitable shed, that grudgingly lent us a perfidious and capricious
+shelter! What charming seats, skilfully made of sticks and logs driven
+into the wet ground!
+
+When the storm was over M. de Meilhan offered to escort us to Pont de
+l'Arche; I accepted, much to the astonishment of the severe Blanchard,
+who cannot understand the sudden change in my conduct, and begins to
+suspect me of being in search of adventures.
+
+When we reached our destination, and Madam Taverneau heard that M. de
+Meilhan had been my escort, she was in such a state of excitement that
+she could talk of nothing else. M. de Meilhan is highly thought of
+here, where his family have resided many years; his mother is venerated,
+and he himself beloved by all that know him. He has a moderate fortune;
+with it he quietly dispenses charity and daily confers benefits with an
+unknown hand. He seems to be very agreeable and witty. I have never met
+so brilliant a man, except M. de Monbert. How charming it would be to
+hear them talk together!
+
+But that letter! What would I not give for that letter! If I could only
+read the first four lines! I would find out what I want to know. These
+first lines would tell me if Roger is really sad; if he is to be pitied,
+and if it is time for me to console him. I rely a little upon the
+indiscretion of M. de Meilhan to enlighten me. Poets are like doctors;
+all artists are kindred spirits; they cannot refrain from telling a
+romantic love affair any more than a physician can from citing his last
+remarkable case; the former never name their friends, the latter never
+betray their patients. But when we know beforehand, as I do, the name of
+the hero or patient, we soon complete the semi-indiscretion.
+
+So I mercilessly slander all heiresses and capricious women of fashion
+that I may incite Roger's confidant to relate me my own history. I
+forgot to mention that since my arrival here M. de Meilhan has been
+every day to call on Madame Taverneau. She evidently imagines herself
+the object of his visits. I am of a different opinion. Indeed, I fear I
+have made a conquest of this dark-eyed young poet, which is not at all
+flattering to me. This sudden adoration shows that he has not a very
+elevated opinion of me. How he will laugh when he recognises this
+adventurous widow in the proud wife of his friend!
+
+You reproach me bitterly for having sacrificed you to Madame Taverneau.
+Cruel Prefect that you are, go and accuse the government and your
+consul-general of this unjust preference.
+
+Can I reach Grenoble in three hours, as I do Rouen? Can I return from
+Grenoble to Paris in three hours; fly when I wish, reappear when 'tis
+necessary? In a word have you a railway? No! Well, then, trust to my
+experience and believe that where locomotion is concerned there is an
+end to friendship, gratitude, sympathy and devotion. Nothing is to be
+considered but railways, roads, wagons that jolt you to death, but carry
+you to your destination, and stages that upset and never arrive.
+
+We cannot visit the friends we love best, but those we can get away from
+with the greatest facility.
+
+Besides, for a heroine wishing to hide herself, the asylum you offer has
+nothing mysterious, it is merely a Thebais of a prefecture; and there I
+am afraid of compromising you.
+
+A Parisian in a provincial town is always standing on a volcano, one
+unlucky word may cause destruction.
+
+How difficult it is to be a Prefect! You have commenced very
+properly--four children! All that is necessary to begin with. They are
+such convenient excuses. To be a good Prefect one must have four
+children. They are inexhaustible pretexts for escaping social horrors;
+if you wish to decline a compromising invitation, your dear little girl
+has got the whooping cough; when you wish to avoid dining a friend _in
+transitu_, your eldest son has a dreadful fever; you desire to escape a
+banquet unadorned by the presence of the big-wigs--brilliant idea! all
+four children have the measles.
+
+Now confess you did well to have the four lovely children! Without them
+you would be conquered in spite of your wisdom; it requires so much
+skill for a Parisian to live officially in a province!
+
+There all the women are clever; the most insignificant citizen's wife
+can outwit an old diplomat. What science they display under the most
+trying and peculiar circumstances! What profound combination in their
+plans of vengeance! What prudence in their malice! What patience in
+their cruelty! It is dreadful! I will visit you when you reside in the
+country, but while you reign over a prefecture, I have for you the
+respectful horror that a democratic mind has for all authorities.
+
+Who is this poor convalescent whose wound caused you so much anxiety?
+You don't tell me his name! I understand you, Madame! Even to an old
+friend you must show your administrative discretion!
+
+Is this wounded hero young? I suppose he is, as you do not say he is
+old. He is "about to leave, and return to his home;" "his home" is
+rather vague, as you don't tell me his name! Now, I am different from
+you; I name and fully describe every one I meet, you respond with
+enigmas.
+
+I well know that your destiny is fulfilled, and that mine has all the
+attractiveness of a new romance. Nevertheless, you must be more
+communicative if you expect to be continued in office as my confidant.
+
+Embrace for me your dear little ones, whom I insist upon regarding as
+your best counsellors at the prefecture, and tell my goddaughter, Irene,
+to kiss you for me.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Saint Dominique street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, May 31st, 18--.
+
+Now that you are a sort of Amadis de Gaul, striking attitudes upon a
+barren rock, as a sign of your lovelorn condition, you have probably
+forgotten, my dear Roger, my encounter upon the cars with an ideal
+grisette, who saved me from the horrors of starvation by generously
+dividing with me a bag of sugar-plums. But for this unlooked-for aid, I
+should have been reduced, like a famous handful of shipwrecked mariners,
+to feed upon my watch-chain and vest-buttons. To a man so absorbed in
+his grief, as you are, the news of the death from starvation of a friend
+upon the desert island of a railway station, would make very little
+impression; but I not being in love with any Irene de Chateaudun, have
+preserved a pleasant recollection of this touching scene, translated
+from the AEneid in modern and familiar prose.
+
+I wrote immediately,--for my beauty, of an infinitely less exalted rank
+than yours, lodges with the post-mistress,--several fabulous letters to
+problematic people, in countries which do not exist, and are only
+designated upon the map by a dash.
+
+Madame Taverneau has conceived a profound respect for a young man who
+has correspondents in unknown lands, barely sighted in 1821 at the
+Antarctic pole, and in 1819 at the Arctic pole, so she invited me to a
+little soiree musicale et dansante, of which I was to be the bright
+particular star. An invitation to an exclusive ball, given at an
+inaccessible house, never gave a woman with a doubtful past or an
+uncertain position, half the pleasure that I felt from the entangled
+sentences of Madame Taverneau in which she did not dare to hope, but
+would be happy if--.
+
+Apart from the happiness of seeing Madame Louise Guerin (my charmer's
+name), I looked forward to an entirely new recreation, that of studying
+the manners of the middle class in their intimate relations with each
+other. I have lived with the aristocracy and with the canaille; in the
+highest and lowest conditions of life are found entire absence of
+pretension; in the highest, because their position is assured; in the
+lowest, because it is simply impossible to alter it. None but poets are
+really unhappy because they cannot climb to the stars. A half-way
+position is the most false.
+
+I thought I would go early to have some talk with Louise, but the circle
+was already completed when I arrived; everybody had come first.
+
+The guests were assembled in a large, gloomy room, gloriously called a
+drawing-room, where the servant never enters without first taking off
+her shoes at the door, like a Turk in a mosque, and which is only opened
+on the most solemn occasions. As it is doubtful whether you have ever
+set foot in a like establishment, I will give you, in imitation of the
+most profound of our novel-writers (which one? you will say; they are
+all profound now-a-days), a detailed description of Madame Taverneau's
+salon.
+
+Two windows, hung in red calico, held up by some black ornaments, a
+complication of sticks, pegs and all sorts of implements on stamped
+copper, gave light to this sanctuary, which commanded through them an
+animated look-out--in the language of the commonalty--upon the
+scorching, noisy highway, bordered by sickly elms sprinkled with dust,
+from the constant passage of vehicles which shake the house to its
+centre; wagons loaded with noisy iron, and droves of hogs, squeaking
+under the drover's whip.
+
+The floor was painted red and polished painfully bright, reminding one
+of a wine-merchant's sign freshly varnished; the walls were concealed
+under frightful velvet paper which so religiously catches the fluff and
+dust. The mahogany furniture stood round the room, a reproach against
+the discovery of America, covered with sanguinary cloth stamped in black
+with subjects taken from Fontaine's fables. When I say subjects I
+basely flatter the sumptuous taste of Madame Taverneau; it was the same
+subject indefinitely repeated--the Fox and the Stork. How luxurious it
+was to sit upon a stork's beak! In front of each chair was spread a
+piece of carpet, to protect the splendor of the floor, so that the
+guests when seated bore a vague resemblance to the bottles and decanters
+set round the plated centrepiece of a banquet given to a deputy by his
+grateful constituents.
+
+An atrocious troubadour clock ornamented the mantel-piece representing
+the templar Bois-Guilbert bearing off a gilded Rebecca upon a silver
+horse. On either side of this frightful time-piece were placed two
+plated lamps under globes.
+
+This magnificence filled with secret envy more than one housekeeper of
+Pont de l'Arche, and even the maid trembled as she dusted. We will not
+speak of the spun-glass poodles, little sugar St. Johns, chocolate
+Napoleons, a cabinet filled with common china, occupying a conspicuous
+place, engravings representing the Adieux to Fontainebleau, Souvenirs
+and Regrets, The Fisherman's Family, The Little Poachers, and other
+hackneyed subjects. Can you imagine anything like it? For my part, I
+never could understand this love for the common-place and the hideous. I
+know that every one does not dwell in Alhambras, Louvres, or Parthenons,
+but it is so easy to do without a clock to leave the walls bare, to
+exist without Manrin's lithographs or Jazet's aquatints!
+
+The people filling the room, seemed to me, in point of vulgarity, the
+queerest in the world; their manner of speaking was marvellous,
+imitating the florid style of the defunct Prudhomme, the pupil of Brard
+and St. Omer. Their heads spread out over their white cravats and
+immense shirt collars recalled to mind certain specimens of the gourd
+tribe. Some even resemble animals, the lion, the horse, the ass; these,
+all things considered, had a vegetable rather than an animal look. Of
+the women I will say nothing, having resolved never to ridicule that
+charming sex.
+
+Among these human vegetables, Louise appeared like a rose in a cabbage
+patch. She wore a simple white dress fastened at the waist by a blue
+ribbon; her hair arranged in bandeaux encircled her pure brow and wound
+in massive coils about her head. A Quakeress could have found no fault
+with this costume, which placed in grotesque and ridiculous contrast the
+hearselike trappings of the other women. It was impossible to be dressed
+in better taste. I was afraid lest my Infanta should seize this
+opportunity to display some marvellous toilette purchased expressly for
+the occasion. That plain muslin gown which never saw India, and was
+probably made by herself, touched and fascinated me. Dress has very
+little weight with me. I once admired a Granada gypsy whose sole costume
+consisted of blue slippers and a necklace of amber beads; but nothing
+annoys me more than a badly made dress of an unbecoming shade.
+
+The provincial dandies much preferring the rubicund gossips, with their
+short necks covered with gold chains, to Madame Taverneau's young and
+slender guest, I was free to talk with her under cover of Louisa
+Pugett's ballads and sonatas executed by infant phenomena upon a cracked
+piano hired from Rouen for the occasion.
+
+Louisa's wit was charming. How mistaken it is to educate instinct out of
+women! To replace nature by a school-mistress! She committed none of
+those terrible mistakes which shock one; it was evident that she formed
+her sentences herself instead of repeating formulae committed to memory.
+She had either never read a novel or had forgotten it, and unless she is
+a wonderful actress she remains as the great fashioner, Nature, made
+her--a perfect woman. We remained a greater part of the evening seated
+together in a corner like beings of another race. Profiting by the great
+interest betrayed by the company in one of those _soi-disant_ innocent
+games where a great deal of kissing is done, the fair girl, doubtless
+fearing a rude salute on her delicate cheek, led me into her room, which
+adjoins the parlor and opens into the garden by a glass door.
+
+On a table in the room, feebly lighted by a lamp which Louisa modestly
+turned up, were scattered pell-mell, screens, boxes from Spa, alabaster
+paper-weights and other details of the art of illuminating, which
+profession my beauty practises; and which explains her occasional
+aristocratic airs, unbecoming an humble seamstress. A bouquet just
+commenced showed talent; with some lessons from St. Jean or Diaz she
+would easily make a good flower painter. I told her so. She received my
+encomiums as a matter of course, evincing none of that mock-modesty
+which I particularly detest.
+
+She showed me a bizarre little chest that she was making, which at
+first-sight seemed to be carved out of coral; it was constructed out of
+the wax-seals cut from old letters pasted together. This new mosaic was
+very simple, and yet remarkably pretty. She asked me to give her, in
+order to finish her box, all the striking seals I possessed, emblazoned
+in figures and devices. I gave her five or six letters that I had in my
+pocket, from which she dexterously cut the seals with her little
+scissors. While she was thus engaged I strolled about the garden--a
+Machiavellian manoeuvre, for, in order to return me my letters, she must
+come in search of me.
+
+The gardens of Madame Taverneau are not the gardens of Armida; but it is
+not in the power of the commonalty to spoil entirely the work of God's
+hands; trees, by the moonbeams of a summer-night, although only a few
+steps from red-cotton curtains and a sanhedrim of merry tradespeople,
+are still trees. In a corner of the garden stood a large acacia tree, in
+full bloom, waving its yellow hair in the soft night-breeze, and
+mingling its perfume with that of the flowers of the marsh iris, poised
+like azure butterflies upon their long green stems.
+
+The porch was flooded with silver light, and when Louise, having secured
+her seals, appeared upon the threshold, her pure and elegant form stood
+out against the dark background of the room like an alabaster statuette.
+
+Her step, as she advanced towards me, was undulating and rhythmical like
+a Greek strophe. I took my letters, and we strolled along the path
+towards an arbor.
+
+So glad was I to get away from the templar Bois-Guilbert carrying off
+Rebecca, and the plated lamps, that I developed an eloquence at once
+persuasive and surprising. Louise seemed much agitated; I could almost
+see the beatings of her heart--the accents of her pure voice were
+troubled--she spoke as one just awakened from a dream. Tell me, are not
+these the symptoms, wherever you have travelled, of a budding love?
+
+I took her hand; it was moist and cool, soft as the pulp of a magnolia
+flower,--and I thought I felt her fingers faintly return my pressure.
+
+I am delighted that this scene occurred by moonlight and under the
+acacia's perfumed branches, for I affect poetical surroundings for my
+love scenes. It would be disagreeable to recall a lovely face relieved
+against wall-paper covered with yellow scrolls; or a declaration of love
+accompanied, in the distance, by the Grace de Dieu; my first significant
+interview with Louise will be associated in my thoughts with moonbeams,
+the odor of the iris and the song of the cricket in the summer grass.
+
+You, no doubt, pronounce me, dear Roger, a pitiable Don Juan, a
+common-place Amilcar, for not profiting by the occasion. A young man
+strolling at night in a garden with a screen painter ought at least to
+have stolen a kiss! At the risk of appearing ridiculous, I did nothing
+of the kind. I love Louise, and besides she has at times such an air of
+hauteur, of majestic disdain that the boldest commercial traveller
+steeped to the lips in Pigault-Lebrun, a sub-lieutenant wild with
+absinthe would not venture such a caress--she would almost make one
+believe in virtue, if such a thing were possible. Frankly, I am afraid
+that I am in earnest this time. Order me a dove-colored vest,
+apple-green trowsers, a pouch, a crook, in short the entire outfit of a
+Lignon shepherd. I shall have a lamb washed to complete the pastoral.
+
+How I reached the chateau, whether walking or flying, I cannot tell.
+Happy as a king, proud as a god, for a new love was born in my heart.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, GRENOBLE (Isere).
+
+PARIS, June 2d 18--.
+
+It is five o'clock, I have just come from Pont de l'Arche, and I am
+going to the Odeon, which is three miles from here; it seems to me that
+the Odeon is three miles from every spot in Paris, for no matter where
+you live, you are never near the Odeon!
+
+Madame Taverneau is delighted at the prospect of treating a poor,
+obscure, unsophisticated widow like myself to an evening at the theatre!
+She has a box that she obtained, by some stratagem, the hour we got
+here. She seemed so hurt and disappointed when I refused to accompany
+her, that I was finally compelled to yield to her entreaties. The good
+woman has for me a restless, troublesome affection that touches me
+deeply. A vague instinct tells her that fate will lead us through
+different paths in life, and in spite of herself, without being able to
+explain why, she watches me as if she knew I might escape from her at
+any moment.
+
+She insisted upon escorting me to Paris, although she had nothing to
+call her there, and her father, who is still my garret neighbor, did not
+expect her. She relies upon taking me back to Pont de l'Arche, and I
+have not the courage to undeceive her; I also dread the moment when I
+will have to tell her my real name, for she will weep as if she were
+hearing my requiem. Tell me, what can I do to benefit her and her
+husband; if they had a child I would present it with a handsome dowry,
+because parents gratefully receive money for their children, when they
+would proudly refuse it for themselves.
+
+To confer a favor without letting it appear as one, requires more
+consideration, caution and diplomacy than I am prepared to devote to
+the subject, so you must come to my relief and decide upon some plan.
+
+I first thought of making M. Taverneau manager of one of my estates--now
+that I have estates to be managed; but he is stupid ... and alas, what a
+manager he would make! He would eat the hay instead of selling it; so I
+had to relinquish that idea, and as he is unfit for anything else, I
+will get him an office; the government alone possesses the art of
+utilizing fools. Tell me what office I can ask for that will be very
+remunerative to him--consult M. de Braimes; a Prefect ought to know how
+to manage such a case; ask him what is the best way of assisting a
+protege who is a great fool? Let me know at once what he says.
+
+I don't wish to speak of the subject to Roger, because it would be
+revealing the past. Poor Roger, how unhappy he must be! I long so to see
+him, and by great kindness make amends for my cruelty.
+
+I told you of all the stratagems I had to resort to in order to find out
+what Roger had written to M. de Meilhan about his sorrows; well, thanks
+to my little sealing-wax boxes, I have seen Roger's letter! Yesterday
+evening, M. de Meilhan brought me some new seals, and among the letters
+he handed me was one from Roger! Imagine my feelings! I was so
+frightened when I had the letter in my hand that I dared not read it;
+not because I was too honorable, but too prudish; I dreaded being
+embarrassed by reading facts stated in that free and easy style peculiar
+to young men when writing to each other. The only concession I could
+obtain from my delicacy was to glance at the three last lines: "I am not
+angry with her, I am only vexed with myself," wrote the poor forsaken
+man. "I never told her how much I loved her; if she had known it, never
+would she have had the courage to desert me."
+
+This simple honest sorrow affected me deeply; not wishing to read any
+more, I went into the garden to return M. de Meilhan his letters, and
+was glad it was too dark for him to perceive my paleness and agitation.
+I at once decided to return to Paris, for I find that in spite of all
+my fine programmes of cruelty, I am naturally tender-hearted and
+distressed to death at the idea of making any one unhappy. I armed
+myself with insensibility, and here I am already conquered by the first
+groans of my victim. I would make but an indifferent tyrant, and if all
+the suspicious queens and jealous empresses like Elizabeth, Catharine
+and Christina had no more cruelty in their dispositions than I have, the
+world would have been deprived of some of its finest tragedies.
+
+You may congratulate yourself upon having mitigated the severity of my
+decrees, for it is my anxiety to please you that has made me so suddenly
+change all my plans of tests and trials. You say it is undignified to
+act as a spy upon Roger, to conceal myself in Paris where he is
+anxiously seeking and waiting for me; that this ridiculous play has an
+air of intrigue, and had better be stopped at once or it may result
+dangerously ... I am resigned--I renounce the sensible idea of testing
+my future husband ... but be warned! If in the future I am tortured by
+discovering any glaring defects and odious peculiarities, that what you
+call my indiscretion might have revealed before it was too late, you
+will permit me to come and complain to you every day, and you must
+promise to listen to my endless lamentations as I repeat over and over
+again. O Valentine, I have learned too late what I might have known in
+time to save me! Valentine, I am miserable and disappointed--console me!
+console me!
+
+Doubtless to a young girl reared like yourself in affluence under your
+mother's eye, this strange conduct appears culpable and indelicate; but
+remember, that with me it is the natural result of the sad life I have
+led for the last three years; this disguise, that I reassume from fancy,
+was then worn from necessity, and I have earned the right of borrowing
+it a little while longer from misfortune to assist me in guarding
+against new sorrows. Am I not justified in wishing to profit by
+experience too dearly bought? Is it not just that I should demand from
+the sad past some guarantees for a brighter future, and make my bitter
+sorrows the stepping-stones to a happy life? But, as I intend to follow
+your advice, I'll do it gracefully without again alluding to my
+frustrated plans.
+
+To-morrow I return to Fontainebleau. I stayed there five days when I
+went back with Madame Langeac; I only intended to remain a few minutes,
+but my cousin was so uneasy at finding her daughter worse, that I did
+not like to leave before the doctor pronounced her better. This illness
+will assist me greatly in the fictions I am going to write Roger from
+Fontainebleau to-morrow. I will tell him we were obliged to leave
+suddenly, without having time to bid him adieu, to go and nurse a sick
+relative; that she is better now, and Madame de Langeac and I will
+return to Paris next week. In three days I shall return, and no one will
+ever know I have been to Pont de l'Arche, except M. de Meilhan, who will
+doubtless soon forget all about it; besides, he intends remaining in
+Normandy till the end of the year, so there is no risk of our meeting.
+
+Oh! I must tell you about the amusing evening M. de Meilhan and I spent
+together at Madame Taverneau's. How we did laugh over it! He was king of
+the feast, although he would not acknowledge it. Madame Taverneau was so
+proud of entertaining the young lord of the village, that she had rushed
+into the most reckless extravagance to do him honor. She had thrown the
+whole town in a state of excitement by sending to Rouen for a piano. But
+the grand event of the evening was a clock. Yet I must confess that the
+effect was quite different from what she expected--it was a complete
+failure. We usually sit in the dining-room, but for this grand occasion
+the parlor was opened. On the mantel-piece in this splendid room there
+is a clock adorned by a dreadful bronze horse running away with a fierce
+warrior and some unheard-of Turkish female. I never saw anything so
+hideous; it is even worse than your frightful clock with Columbus
+discovering America! Madame Taverneau thought that M. de Meilhan, being
+a poet and an artist, would compliment her upon possessing so rare and
+valuable a work of art. Fortunately he said nothing--he even refrained
+from smiling; this showed his great generosity and delicacy, for it is
+only a man of refinement and delicacy that respects one's
+illusions--especially when they are illusions in imitation bronze!
+
+Upon my arrival here this morning, I was pained to hear that the trees
+in front of my window are to be cut down; this news ought not to disturb
+me in the least, as I never expect to return to this house again, yet it
+makes me very sad; these old trees are so beautiful, and I have thought
+so many things as I would sit and watch their long branches waving in
+the summer breeze!...and the little light that shone like a star through
+their thick foliage! shall I never see it again? It disappeared a year
+ago, and I used to hope it would suddenly shine again. I thought: It is
+absent, but will soon return to cheer my solitude. Sometimes I would
+say: "Perhaps my ideal dwells in that little garret!" O foolish idea!
+Vain hope! I must renounce all this poetry of youth; serious age creeps
+on with his imposing escort of austere duties; he dispels the charming
+fancies that console us in our sorrows; he extinguishes the bright
+lights that guide us through darkness--drives away the beloved
+ideal--spreads a cloud over the cherished star, and harshly cries out:
+"Be reasonable!" which means: No longer hope to be happy.
+
+Ah! Madame Taverneau calls me; she is in a hurry to start for the Odeon;
+it is very early, and I don't wish to go until the last moment. I have
+sent to the Hotel de Langeac for my letters, and must wait to glance
+over them--they might contain news about Roger.
+
+I have just caught a glimpse of the two ladies Madame Taverneau invited
+to accompany us to the theatre.... I see a wine-colored bonnet trimmed
+with green ribbons--it is horrible to look upon! Heavens--there comes
+another! more intolerable than the first one! bright yellow adorned with
+blue feathers!... Mercy! what a face within the bonnet! and what a
+figure beneath the face! She has something glistening in her hand ... it
+is ... a ... would you believe it? a travelling-bag covered with steel
+beads!... she intends taking it to the theatre!... do my eyes deceive
+me? _can_ she be filling it with oranges to carry with her?... she dare
+not disgrace us by eating oranges.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Saint Dominique Street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, June 3d, 18--
+
+It seems, my dear Roger, that we are engaged in a game of interrupted
+addresses. For my Louise Guerin, like your Irene de Chateaudun, has gone
+I know not where, leaving me to struggle, in this land of apple trees,
+with an incipient passion which she has planted in my breast. Flight has
+this year become an epidemic among women.
+
+The day after that famous soiree, I went to the post-office ostensibly
+to carry the letter containing those triumphant details, but in reality
+to see Louise, for any servant possessed sufficient intelligence to
+acquit himself of such a commission. Imagine my surprise and
+disappointment at finding instead of Madame Taverneau a strange face,
+who gruffly announced that the post-mistress had gone away for a few
+days with Madame Louise Guerin. The dove had flown, leaving to mark its
+passage a few white feathers in its mossy nest, a faint perfume of grace
+in this common-place mansion!
+
+I could have questioned Madame Taverneau's fat substitute, but I am
+principled against asking questions; things are explained soon enough.
+Disenchantment is the key to all things. When I like a woman I carefully
+avoid all her acquaintance, any one who can tell me aught about her. The
+sound of her name pronounced by careless lips, puts me to flight; the
+letters that she receives might be given me open and I should throw
+them, unread, into the fire. If in speaking she makes any allusion to
+the past events of her life, I change the conversation; I tremble when
+she begins a recital, lest some disillusionizing incident should escape
+her which would destroy the impression I had formed of her. As
+studiously as others hunt after secrets I avoid them; if I have ever
+learned anything of a woman I loved, it has always been in spite of my
+earnest efforts, and what I have known I have carefully endeavored to
+forget.
+
+Such is my system. I said nothing to the fat woman, but entered Louise's
+deserted chamber.
+
+Everything was as she had left it.
+
+A bunch of wild flowers, used as a model, had not had time to fade; an
+unfinished bouquet rested on the easel, as if awaiting the last touches
+of the pencil. Nothing betokened a final departure. One would have said
+that Louise might enter at any moment. A little black mitten lay upon a
+chair; I picked it up--and would have pressed it to my lips, if such an
+action had not been deplorably rococo.
+
+Then I threw myself into an old arm-chair, by the side of the bed--like
+Faust in Marguerite's room--lifting the curtains with as much precaution
+as if Louise reposed beneath. You are going to laugh at me, I know, dear
+Roger, but I assure you, I have never been able to gaze upon a young
+girl's bed without emotion.
+
+That little pillow, the sole confidant of timid dreams, that narrow
+couch, fitted like a tomb for but one alabaster form, inspired me with
+tender melancholy. No anacreontic thoughts came to me, I assure you, nor
+any disposition to rhyme in _ette_, herbette, filette, coudrette. The
+love I bear to noble poesy saved me from such an exhibition of bad
+taste.
+
+A crucifix, over which hung a piece of blessed box, spread its ivory
+arms above Louise's untroubled slumber. Such simple piety touched me. I
+dislike bigots, but I detest atheists.
+
+Musing there alone it flashed upon me that Louise Guerin had never been
+married, in spite of her assertion. I am disposed to doubt the existence
+of the late Albert Guerin. A sedate and austere atmosphere surrounds
+Louise, suggesting the convent or the boarding-school.
+
+I went into the garden; the sunbeams checkered the steps of the porch;
+the wilted iris drooped on its stem, and the acacia flowers strewed the
+pathway. Apropos of acacia flowers, do you know, that fried in batter,
+they make excellent fritters? Finding myself alone in the walks where I
+had strolled with her, I do not know how it happened, but I felt my
+heart swell, and I sighed like a young abbe of the 17th century.
+
+I returned to the chateau, having no excuse for remaining longer, vexed,
+disappointed, wearied, idle--the habit of seeing Louise every day had
+grown upon me.
+
+And habit is everything to poor humanity, as that graceful poet Alfred
+de Musset says. My feet only know the way to the post-office; what shall
+I do with myself while this visit lasts? I tried to read, but my
+attention wandered; I skipped the lines, and read the same paragraph
+over twice; my book having fallen down I picked it up and read it for
+one whole hour upside down, without knowing it--I wished to make a
+monosyllabic sonnet--extremely interesting occupation--and failed. My
+quatrains were tedious, and my tercets entirely too diffuse.
+
+My mother begins to be uneasy at my dullness; she has asked twice if I
+were sick--I have fallen off already a quarter of a pound; for nothing
+is more enraging than to be deserted at the most critical period of
+one's infatuation! Ixion of Normandy, my Juno is a screen-painter, I
+open my arms and clasp only a cloud! My position, similar to yours,
+cannot, however, be compared with it--mine only relates to a trifling
+flirtation, a thwarted fancy, while yours is a serious passion for a
+woman of your own rank who has accepted your hand, and therefore has no
+right to trifle with you,--she must be found, if only for vengeance!
+
+Remorse consumes me because of my sentimental stupidity by moonlight.
+Had I profited by the night, the solitude and the occasion, Louise had
+not left me; she saw clearly that I loved her, and was not displeased at
+the discovery. Women are strange mixtures of timidity and rashness.
+
+Perhaps she has gone to join her lover, some saw-bones, some
+counting-house Lovelace, while I languish here in vain, like Celadon or
+Lygdamis of cooing memory.
+
+This is not at all probable, however, for Madame Taverneau would not
+compromise her respectability so far as to act as chaperon to the loves
+of Louise Guerin. After all, what is it to me? I am very good to trouble
+myself about the freaks of a prudish screen-painter! She will return,
+because the hired piano has not been sent back to Rouen, and not a soul
+in the house knows a note of music but Louise, who plays quadrilles and
+waltzes with considerable taste, an accomplishment she owes to her
+mistress of painting, who had seen better days and possessed some skill.
+
+Do not be too much flattered by this letter of grievances, for I only
+wanted an excuse to go to the post-office to see if Louise has
+returned--suppose she has not! the thought drives the blood back to my
+heart.
+
+Isn't it singular that I should fall desperately in love with this
+simple shepherdess--I who have resisted the sea-green glances and smiles
+of the sirens that dwell in the Parisian ocean? Have I escaped from the
+Marquise's Israelite turbans only to become a slave to a straw bonnet? I
+have passed safe and sound through the most dangerous defiles to be
+worsted in open country; I could swim in the whirlpool, and now drown in
+a fish-pond; every celebrated beauty, every renowned coquette finds me
+on my guard. I am as circumspect as a cat walking over a table covered
+with glass and china. It is hard to make me pose, as they say in a
+certain set; but when the adversary is not to be feared, I allow him so
+many advantages that in the end he subdues me.
+
+I was not sufficiently on my guard with Louise at first.
+
+I said to myself: "She is only a grisette"--and left the door of my
+heart open--love entered in, and I fear I shall have some trouble in
+driving him out.
+
+Excuse, dear Roger, this nonsense, but I must write you something. After
+all, my passion is worth as much as yours. Love is the same whether
+inspired by an empress or a rope-dancer, and I am just as unhappy at
+Louise's disappearance as you are at Irene's.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, June 3d 18--.
+
+She is in Paris!
+
+Before knowing it I felt it. The atmosphere was filled with a voice, a
+melody, a brightness, a perfume that murmured: Irene is here!
+
+Paris appears to me once more populated; the crowd is no longer a desert
+in my eyes; this great dead city has recovered its spirit of life; the
+sun once more smiles upon me; the earth bounds under my feet; the soft
+summer air fans my burning brow, and whispers into my ear that one
+adored name--Irene!
+
+Chance has a treasure-house of atrocious combinations. Chance! The
+cunning demon! He calls himself Chance so as to better deceive us. With
+an infernal skilfulness he feigns not to watch us in the decisive
+moments of our lives, and at the same time leads us like blind fools
+into the very path he has marked out for us.
+
+You know the two brothers Ernest and George de S. were planted by their
+family in the field of diplomacy: they study Eastern languages and
+affect Eastern manners. Well, yesterday we met in the Bois de Boulogne,
+they in a calash, and I on horseback--I am trying riding as a moral
+hygiene--as the carriage dashed by they called out to me an invitation
+to dinner; I replied, "Yes," without stopping my horse. Idleness and
+indolence made me say "Yes," when I should have said, "No;" but _Yes_ is
+so much easier to pronounce than _No_, especially on horseback. _No_
+necessitates a discussion; _Yes_ ends the matter, and economizes words
+and time.
+
+I was rather glad I had met these young sprigs of diplomacy. They are
+good antidotes for low spirits, for they are always in a hilarious state
+and enjoy their youth in idle pleasure, knowing they are destined to
+grow old in the soporific dulness of an Eastern court.
+
+I thought we three would be alone at dinner; alas! there were five of
+us.
+
+Two female artistes who revelled in their precocious emancipation; two
+divinities worshipped in the temple of the grand sculptors of modern
+Athens; the Scylla and Charybdis of Paris.
+
+I am in the habit of bowing with the same apparent respect to every
+woman in the universe. I have bowed to the ebony women of Senegal; to
+the moon-colored women of the Southern Archipelago; to the snow-white
+women of Behring's Strait, and to the bronze women of Lahore and Ceylon.
+Now it was impossible for me to withdraw from the presence of two fair
+women whose portraits are the admiration of all connoisseurs who visit
+the Louvre. Besides, I have a theory: the less respectable a woman is,
+the more respect we should show her, and thus endeavor to bring her back
+to virtue.
+
+I remained and tried to add my fifth share of antique gayety to the
+feast. We were Praxiteles, Phidias and Scopas; we had inaugurated the
+modest Venus and her sister in their temples, and we drank to our model
+goddesses in wines from the Ionian Archipelago.
+
+That evening, you may remember, Antigone was played at the Odeon in the
+Faubourg Saint-Germain.
+
+I have another theory: in any action, foolish or wise, either carry it
+through bravely when once undertaken, or refrain from undertaking it. I
+had not the wisdom to refrain, therefore I was compelled to imitate the
+folly of my friends; at dessert I even abused the invitation, and too
+often sought to drown sorrow in the ruby cup.
+
+We started for the Odeon. Our entrance at the theatre caused quite an
+excitement. The ladies, cavalierly suspended on the arms of the two
+future Eastern ambassadors, sailed in with a conscious air of epicurean
+grace and dazzling beauty. The classic ushers obsequiously threw open
+the doors, and led us to our box. I brought up the procession, looking
+as insolent and proud as I did the day I entered the ruined pagoda of
+Bangalore to carry off the statue of Sita.
+
+The first act was being played, and the Athenian school preserved a
+religious silence in front of the proscenium. The noise we made by
+drawing back the curtain of our box, slamming the door and loudly
+laughing, drowned for an instant the touching strains of the tragic
+choir, and centred upon us the angry looks of the audience.
+
+With what cool impertinence did our divinities lean over the seats and
+display their round white arms, that have so often been copied in Parian
+marble by our most celebrated sculptors! Our three intellectual faces,
+wreathed in the silly smiles of intoxication, hovered over the silken
+curls of our goddesses, thus giving the whole theatre a full view of our
+happiness!
+
+Occasionally a glimmer of reason would cross my confused brain, and I
+would soliloquize: Why am I disgracing myself in this way before all
+these people? What possesses me to act in concert with these drunken
+fools and bold women? I must rush out and apologize to the first person
+I meet!
+
+It was impossible for me to follow my good impulse--some unseen hand
+held me back--some mysterious influence kept me chained to the spot. We
+are influenced by magic, although magicians no longer exist!
+
+Between the acts, our two Greek statues criticised the audience in loud
+tones, and their remarks, seasoned with attic salt, afforded a peculiar
+supplement to the choir of Antigone.
+
+"Those four women on our right must be sensible people," said our blonde
+statue; "they have put their show-piece in front. I suppose she is the
+beauty of the party; did you ever behold such dreadful bonnets and
+dresses? They must have come from the Olympic Circus. If I were
+disfigured in that way, I would be a box-opener, but never would be seen
+in one!"
+
+"I think I have seen them before," said the bronze statue; they hire
+their bonnets from the fish-market--disgusting creatures that they are!"
+
+"What do the two in the corner look like, my angel?"
+
+"I see nothing but a shower of curls; I suppose _she_ found it more
+economical to curl her hair than to buy a bonnet. Every time I stretch
+my neck to get a look at her, she hides behind those superb bonnets."
+
+"Which proves," said Ernest, "that she is paradoxically ugly."
+
+"I pity them, if they are seeking four husbands," said George; "and if
+they are married--I pity their four husbands."
+
+Whilst my noisy companions were trying to discover their ideal fright in
+the corner of the box on our right, I felt an inexplicable contraction
+of my heart--a chill pass through my whole body; my silly gayety was by
+some unseen influence suddenly changed into sadness--I felt my eyes fill
+with tears. The only way I could account for this revulsion in my
+feelings was the growing conviction that I was disgracing myself in a
+den of malefactors of both sexes. My fit of melancholy was interrupted
+very opportunely by the choir chanting the hymn of Bacchus, that antique
+wonder, found by Mendelssohn in the ruins of the Temple of Victory.
+
+When the play was over, I timidly proposed that we should remain in our
+box till the crowd had passed out; but our Greek statues would not hear
+to it, as they had determined upon a triumphal exit. I was obliged to
+yield.
+
+The bronze statue despotically seized my arm, and dragged me toward the
+stair. I felt as if I had a cold lizard clinging to me. I was seized
+with that chilly sensation always felt by nervous people when they come
+in contact with reptiles.
+
+I recalled the disastrous day that I was shipwrecked on the island of
+Eaei-Namove, and compelled to marry Dai-Natha, the king's daughter, in
+order to escape the unpleasant alternative of being eaten alive by her
+father. On the staircase of the Odeon I regretted Dai-Natha.
+
+In the midst of the dense crowd that blockaded the stairway, I heard a
+frightened cry that made the blood freeze in my veins. There was but one
+woman in the world blest with so sweet a voice--musical even when raised
+in terror.
+
+If I were surrounded by crashing peals of thunder, rushing waters and
+yells of wild beasts, I still could recognise, through the din of all
+this, the cry of a beloved woman. I am gifted with that marvellous
+perception of hearing, derived from the sixth sense, the sense of love.
+
+Irene de Chateaudun had uttered that cry of alarm--_Take care, my dear!_
+she had exclaimed with that accent of fright that it is impossible to
+disguise--in that tone that will be natural in spite of all the reserve
+that circumstances would impose, _Take care, my dear!_
+
+Some one near me said that a door-keeper had struck a lady on the
+shoulder with a panel of a portable door which he was carrying across
+the passage-way. By standing on my toes I could just catch a glimpse of
+the board being balanced in the air over every one's head. My eyes could
+not see the woman who had uttered this cry, but my ears told me it was
+Irene de Chateaudun.
+
+The crowd was so dense that some minutes passed before I could move a
+step towards the direction of the cry, but when I had finally succeeded
+in reaching the door, I flung from me the hateful arm that clung to
+mine, and rushing into the street, I searched through the crowd and
+looked in every carriage and under every lady's hood to catch a glimpse
+of Irene, without being disconcerted by the criticisms that the people
+around indulged in at my expense.
+
+Useless trouble! I discovered nothing. The theatre kept its secret; but
+that cry still rings in my ears and echoes around my heart.
+
+This morning at daybreak I flew to the Hotel de Langeac. The porter
+stared at me in amazement, and answered all my eager inquiries with a
+stolid, short _no_. The windows of Irene's room were closed and had that
+deserted appearance that proved the absence of its lovely
+occupant--windows that used to look so bright and beautiful when I would
+catch glimpses of a snowy little hand arranging the curtains, or of a
+golden head gracefully bent over her work, totally unconscious of the
+loving eyes feasting upon her beauty--oh! many of my happiest moments
+have been spent gazing at those windows, and now how coldly and silently
+they frowned upon my grief!
+
+The porter lies! The windows lie! I exclaimed, and once more I began to
+search Paris.
+
+This time I had a more important object in view than trying to fatigue
+my body and divert my mind. My eyes are multiplied to infinity; they
+questioned at once every window, door, alley, street, carriage and store
+in the city. I was like the miser who accused all Paris of having stolen
+his treasure.
+
+At three o'clock, when all the beauty and fashion of Paris was
+promenading on Paix aux Panoramas street, I was stopped on the corner
+and button-holed by one of those gossiping friends whom fiendish chance
+always sends at the most trying moments in life in order to disgust us
+with friendship ... A dazzling form passed before me ... Irene alone
+possesses that graceful ease, that fairy-like step, that queenly
+dignity--I could recognise her among a thousand--it was useless for her
+to attempt disguising her exquisite elegance beneath a peasant dress---
+besides I caught her eye, so all doubts were swept away; several
+precious minutes were lost in trying to shake off my vexatious friend. I
+abruptly bade him good-day and darted after Irene, but she has the foot
+of a gazelle, and the crowd was so compact that in spite of my elbowing
+and foot-crushing, I made but little headway.
+
+Finally, through an opening in the crowd, I saw Mlle., de Chateaudun
+turn the corner and enter that narrow street near the Cafe Vernon. This
+time she cannot possibly escape me--she is in a long, narrow street,
+with deserted galleries on either side--circumstances are propitious to
+a meeting and explanation--in a minute I am in the narrow street a few
+yards behind Irene. I prepare my mind for this momentous conversation
+which is to decide my fate. I firmly clasp my arms to still the violent
+throbbings of my heart. I am about to be translated to heaven or
+engulfed by hell.
+
+She rapidly glanced at a Chinese store in front of her and, without
+showing any agitation, quietly opened the door and went in. Very good,
+thought I, she will purchase some trifle and be out in a few minutes. I
+will wait for her.
+
+Five feet from the store I assumed the attitude of the god Terminus; by
+the way, this store is very handsomely ornamented, and far surpasses in
+its elegant collection of Chinese curiosities the largest store of the
+sort in Hog Lane in the European quarter of Canton.
+
+Another of those kind friends whom chance holds in reserve for our
+annoyance, came out of a bank adjoining the store, and inferring from my
+statue-like attitude that I was dying of ennui and would welcome any
+diversion, rushed up to me and said:
+
+"Ah! my dear cosmopolitan, how are you to-day? Don't you want to
+accompany me to Brussels? I have just bought gold for the journey; gold
+is very high, fifteen per cent."
+
+I answered by one of those listless smiles and unintelligible
+monosyllables which signifies in every language under the sun, don't
+bore me.
+
+In the meantime I remained immovable, with my eyes fastened on the
+Chinese store. I could have detected the flight of an atom.
+
+My friend struck the attitude of the Colossus of Rhodes, and supporting
+his chin upon the gold head of his cane which he held in the air
+clenched by both hands, thus continued: "I did a very foolish thing this
+morning. I bought my wife a horse, a Devonshire horse, from the Cremieux
+stables.... That reminds me, my dear Roger, you are the very man to
+decide a knotty question for me. I bet D'Allinville thirty louis that
+... what would _you_ call a lady's horse?"
+
+For some moments I preserved that silence which shows that we are not in
+a humor for talking; but friends sent by ingenious Chance understand
+nothing but the plainest language, so my friend continued his queries:
+
+"What would you call a lady's horse?"
+
+"I would call it a horse," said I, with indifference.
+
+"Now, Roger, I believe you are right; D'Allinville insists that a lady's
+horse is a palfrey."
+
+"In the language of chivalry he is right."
+
+"Then I have lost my bet?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"My dear Roger, this question has been worrying me for two days."
+
+"You are very fortunate to have nothing worse than a term of chivalry to
+annoy you. I would give all the gold in that broker's office if my
+troubles were as light as yours."
+
+"I am afraid you _are_ unhappy, ... you have been looking sad for some
+time, Roger, ... come with me to Brussels.... We can make some splendid
+speculations there. Now-a-days if the aristocracy don't turn their
+attention to business once in a while, they will be completely swept out
+by the moneyed scum of the period. Let us make a venture: I hear of
+twenty acres of land for sale, bordering on the Northern Railroad--there
+is a clear gain of a hundred thousand francs as soon as the road is
+finished; I offer you half--it is not a very risky game, nothing more
+than playing lansquenet on a railroad!"
+
+No signs of Irene. My impatience was so evident that this time, my
+obtuse friend saw it, and, shaking me by the hand, said:
+
+"Good bye, my dear Roger, why in the world did you not tell me I was _de
+trop?_ Now that I see there is a fair lady in the case I will relieve
+you of my presence. Adieu! adieu!"
+
+He was gone, and I breathed again.
+
+By this time my situation had become critical. This Chinese door, like
+that of Acheron, refused to surrender its prey. Time was passing. I had
+successively adopted every attitude of feverish expectation; I had
+exhausted every pose of a museum of statues, and saw that my suspicious
+blockade of the pavement alarmed the store-keepers. The broker adjoining
+the Chinese store seemed to be putting himself on the defensive, and
+meditating an article for the _Gazette des Tribunaux_.
+
+I now regretted the departure of my speculating friend; his presence
+would at least have given my conduct an air of respectability,--would
+have legalized, so to speak, my odd behavior. This time chance left me
+to my own devices.
+
+I had held my position for two hours, and now, as a regard for public
+opinion compelled me to retire, and I had no idea of doing so until I
+had achieved a victory, I determined to make an attack upon the citadel
+containing my queen of love and beauty. Irene had not left the store,
+for she certainly had no way of escaping except by the door which was
+right in front of my eyes--she must be all this time selecting some
+trifle that a man could purchase in five minutes,--it takes a woman an
+eternity to buy anything, no matter how small it may be! My situation
+had become intolerable--I could stand it no longer; so arming myself
+with superhuman courage, I bravely opened the shop-door and entered as
+if it were the breach of a besieged city.
+
+I looked around and could see nothing but a confused mingling of objects
+living and dead; I could only distinguish clearly a woman bowing over
+the counter, asking me a question that I did not hear. My agitation made
+me deaf and blind.
+
+"Madame," I said, "have you any ... Chinese curiosities?"
+
+"We have, monsieur, black tea, green tea, and some very fine Pekin."
+
+"Well, madame, ... give me some of all."
+
+"Do you want it in boxes, monsieur?"
+
+"In boxes, madame, if you choose."
+
+I looked all around the room and saw nobody but two old women standing
+behind another counter--no signs of Irene.
+
+I paid for my tea, and while writing down my address, I questioned the
+saleswoman:
+
+"I promised my wife to meet her here at three o'clock to select this
+tea--not that my presence was necessary, as her taste is always
+mine--but she requested me to come, and I fear I have made a mistake in
+the hour, my watch has run down and I had no idea it was so late--I hope
+she did not wait for me? has she been here?" Thereupon I gave a minute
+description of Irene de Chateaudun, from the color of her hair to the
+shade of her boot.
+
+"Yes, monsieur, she was here about three o'clock, it is now five; she
+was only here a few minutes--long enough to make a little purchase."
+
+"Yes, ... I gasped out, ... I know, but I thought I saw her ... did she
+not come in ... that door?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she entered by that door and went out by the opposite one,
+that one over there," said she, pointing to a door opening on New
+Vivienne street.
+
+I suppressed an oath, and rushed out of the door opening on this new
+street, as if I expected to find Mlle. de Chateaudun patiently waiting
+for me to join her on the pavement. My head was in such a whirl that I
+had not the remotest idea of where I was going, and I wandered
+recklessly through little streets that I had never heard of before--it
+made no difference to me whether I ran into Scylla or Charybdis--I cared
+not what became of me.
+
+Like the fool that repeats over and over again the same words without
+understanding their meaning, I kept saying: "The fiend of a woman! the
+fiend of a woman!" At this moment all my love seemed turned to hate! but
+when this hate had calmed down to chill despair, I began to reflect with
+agonizing fear that perhaps Irene had seen me at the Odeon with those
+dreadful women. I felt that I was ruined in her eyes for ever! She would
+never listen to my attempt at vindication or apologies--women are so
+unforgiving when a man strays for a moment from the path of propriety,
+and they regard little weaknesses in the light of premeditated crimes,
+too heinous for pardon--Irene would cry out with the poet:
+
+  "Tu te fais criminel pour te justifier!"
+
+You are fortunate, my dear Edgar, in having found the woman you have
+always dreamed of and hoped for; you will have all the charms of love
+without its troubles; it is folly to believe that love is strengthened
+by its own torments and stimulated by sorrows. A storm is only admired
+by those on shore; the suffering sailors curse the raging sea and pray
+for a calm.
+
+Your letter, my dear Edgar, is filled with that calm happiness that is
+the foundation of all true love; in return, I can only send you an
+account of my despair. Friendship is often a union of these two
+contrasts.
+
+Enjoy your happy lot, my friend; your reputation is made. You have a
+good name, an enviable and an individual philosophy, borrowed neither
+from the Greeks nor the Germans. Your future is beautiful; cherish the
+sweetest dreams; the woman you love will realize them all.
+
+Night is a bad counsellor, so I dare not make any resolutions, or come
+to any decision at this dark hour. I shall wait for the sun to enlighten
+my mind.
+
+In my despair I have the mournful consolation of knowing that Irene is
+in Paris. This great city has no undiscovered secrets; everything and
+every person hid in its many houses is obliged sooner or later to appear
+in the streets. I form the most extravagant projects; I will buy, if
+necessary, the indiscretion of all the discreet lips that guard the
+doors; I shall recruit an army of salaried spies. On the coast of the
+Coromandel there is a tribe of Indians whose profession is to dive into
+the Gulf of Bengal, that immense bathing-tub of the sun, and search for
+a beautiful pearl that lies buried among the coral beds at the bottom of
+the ocean. It is a pearl of great price, as valuable as the finest
+diamond.... Irene is my pearl of great price, and I will search for and
+find her in this great ocean of men and houses called Paris.... After
+thinking and wondering till I am dizzy and sick at heart, I have come to
+the conclusion that Irene is acting in this manner to test my love--this
+thought consoles me a little, and I try to drown my sorrow in the
+thought of our mutual happiness, when I shall have triumphantly passed
+through the ordeal.
+
+The most charming of women is willing to believe that everybody loves
+except her lover.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Grenoble, (Isere).
+
+PARIS, June 2d--Midnight.
+
+Oh! How indignant I am! How angry and mortified are my feelings! Good
+Heavens! how his shameful conduct makes me hate and despise him!... I
+will try to be calm--to collect my scattered thoughts and give you a
+clear account of what has just occurred--tell you how all of my plans
+are destroyed--how I am once more alone in this cruel world, more sad,
+more discouraged and more hopeless than I ever was in my darkest days of
+misery and poverty.... but I cannot be calm--it is impossible for me to
+control my indignation when I think of the shameful behavior of this
+man--of his gross impertinence--his insolent duplicity.... Well, I went
+to the Odeon; M. de Monbert was there, I saw him, he certainly made no
+attempt to conceal his presence; you know he plumes himself upon being
+open and frank--never hides anything from the world--wishes people to
+see him in his true character, &c., precisely what I saw to-night. Yes,
+Valentine, there he was as tipsy as a coachman--with those little
+hair-brained de S.'s, the eldest simply tipsy as a lord, the young one,
+George, was drunk, very drunk. This is not all, the fascinating Prince
+was escort to two fashionable beauties, two miserable creatures of
+distressing notoriety, two of those shameless women whom we cannot fail
+to recognise on account of their scandalous behavior in public; sort of
+market-women disguised as fashion-plates--half apple-venders, half
+coquettes, who tap men on the cheek with their scented gloves and
+intersperse their conversation with dreadful oaths from behind their
+bouquets and Pompadour fans! ... these creatures talked in shrill tones,
+laughed out loud enough to be heard by every one around--joined in the
+chorus of the Choir of Antigone with the old men of Thebes!... People
+in the gallery said: "they must have dined late," that was a charitable
+construction to put upon their shameful conduct--I thought to myself,
+this is their usual behavior--they are always thus.
+
+I must tell you, so you can better appreciate my angry mortification,
+that just as we were stepping into the carriage the servant handed me
+the letters that I had sent him to bring from the Hotel de Langeac.
+Among the number was one from M. de Monbert, written several days after
+I had left Paris; this letter is worthy of being sent to Grenoble; I
+enclose it. While reading it, my dear Valentine, don't forget that I
+read it at the theatre, and my reading was constantly interrupted by the
+vulgar conversation and noisy laughter of M. de Monbert and his choice
+companions, and that each high-flown sentence of this hypocritical note
+had at the same time a literal and free translation in the scandalous
+remarks, bursts of laughter, and stupid puns of the despicable man who
+had written it.
+
+I confess that this flow of wit interfered with my perusal of these
+touching reproaches; the brilliant improvisations of the orator
+prevented me from becoming too much affected by the elegiacs of the
+writer.
+
+Here is the note that I was trying to decipher through my tears when
+Monsieur de Monbert swaggered into the theatre.
+
+"Is this a test of love--a woman's vengeance or an idle caprice,
+Mademoiselle? My mind is not calm enough to solve the enigma. Be
+merciful and drive me not to madness! To-morrow may be too late--then
+your words of reason might be responded to by the jargon of insanity!
+Beware! and cast aside your cloak of mystery before the sun once more
+goes down upon my frenzy. All is desolation and darkness within and
+without--nothing appears bright to my eyes, and my soul is wrapped in
+gloom. In your absence I cease to live, but it seems as if my deep love
+gives me still enough strength to hold a wandering pen that my mind no
+longer guides. With my love I gave you my soul and mind--what remains to
+me would excite your pity. I implore you to restore me to life.
+
+"You cannot comprehend the ecstasy of a man who loves you, and the
+despair of a man who loses you. Before knowing you I never could have
+imagined these two extremes, separated by a whole world and brought
+together in one instant. To be envied by the angels--to breathe the air
+of heaven--to seek among the divine joys for a name to give one's
+happiness, and suddenly, like Lucifer, to be dashed by a thunderbolt
+into an abyss of darkness, and suffer the living death of the damned!
+
+"This is your work!
+
+"No, it cannot be a jest, it is not a vengeance; one does not jest with
+real love, one does does not take vengeance on an innocent man; then it
+must be a test! a test! ah well, it has been borne long enough, and my
+bleeding heart cries out to you for mercy. If you prolong this ordeal,
+you will soon have no occasion to doubt my love!... your grief will be
+remorse.
+
+"ROGER."
+
+Yes, you are right this time, my dear Prince; my sorrow is remorse, deep
+remorse; I shall never forgive myself for having been momentarily
+touched by your hear-trending moans and for having shed real tears over
+your dramatic pathos.
+
+I was seated in the corner of our box, trembling with emotion and
+weeping over these tender reproaches--yes, I wept!--he seemed so sad, so
+true to me--I was in an humble frame of mind, thoroughly convinced by
+this touching appeal that I had been wicked and unjust to doubt so
+faithful a heart. I was overcome by the magnitude of my offence--at
+having caused this great despair by my cruelty. Each word of this
+elaborate dirge was a dagger to my heart; I credulously admired the
+eloquence and simplicity of the style; I accepted as beautiful writing
+all these striking images--these antitheses full of passion and
+pretension: "_Reason responded to by insanity_." "_The power of love
+that gives him strength to hold a pen. Extremes separated by a whole
+world and brought together in an instant, and this living death that he
+suffers, this name for his past happiness that had to be sought for
+among the joys of heaven!_"
+
+I accepted as gospel truth all these high-flown fictions, and was
+astonished at nothing until I came to the _Lucifer_ part; that, I
+confess, rather startled me--but the finishing tirade composed me. I
+thought it fascinating, thrilling, heart-rending! In my enthusiastic
+pity I was, by way of expiation, admiring the whole letter when I was
+disturbed by a frightful noise made by people entering the adjoining
+box. I felt angry at their insulting my sadness with their heartless
+gayety. I continue to read, admire and weep--my neighbors continue to
+laugh and make a noise. Amidst this uproar I recognise a familiar
+voice--I listen--it is certainly the Prince de Monbert--I cannot be
+mistaken. Probably he has come here with strangers--he has travelled so
+much that he is obliged to do the honors of Paris to grand ladies who
+were polite to him abroad--but from what part of the world could these
+grand ladies have come? They seem to be indulging in a queer style of
+conversation. One of them boldly looked in our box, and exclaimed, "Four
+women! Four monsters!" I recognised her as a woman I had seen at the
+Versailles races--all was explained.
+
+Then they played a sort of farce for their own pleasure, to the great
+annoyance of the audience. I will give you a sample of it, so you can
+have an idea of the wit and good taste displayed by these gentlemen. The
+most intoxicated of the young men asked, between two yawns, who were the
+authors of _Antigone?_ "Sophocles," said M. de Monbert. "But there are
+two, are there not?" "Two _Antigones?_" said the Prince laughing; "yes,
+there is Ballanche's." "Ah, yes! Ballanche, that is his name," cried out
+the ignorant creature; "I knew I saw two names on the hand-bill! Do you
+know them?"
+
+"I am not acquainted with Sophocles," said the Prince, becoming more and
+more jovial, "but I know Ballanche; I have seen him at the Academy."
+
+This brilliant witticism was wonderfully successful; they all clapped so
+loud and laughed so hilariously that the audience became very angry, and
+called out, "Silence!" "Silence!" For a moment the noisy were quiet, but
+soon they were worse than ever, acting like maniacs. At the end of each
+scene, little George de S., who is a mere school-boy, cried out in
+deafening tones: "Bravo! Ballanche!" then turning to the neighboring
+boxes he said: "My friends, applaud; you must encourage the author;" and
+the two bold women clapped their hands and shrieked out, "Let us
+encourage Ballanche! Bravo! Ballanche!" It was absurd.
+
+Madame Taverneau and her friends were indignant; they had heard the
+compliment bestowed upon us--"Four women. Four monsters!" This rapid
+appreciation of our elegant appearance did not make them feel indulgent
+towards our scandalous neighbors. Near us were several newspaper men who
+gave the names of the Prince de Monbert, the Messrs. de S., and their
+two beauties. These journalists spoke with bitter contempt of what they
+called the young lions of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, of the rude
+manners of the aristocracy, of the ridiculous scruples of those proud
+legitimists, who feared to compromise themselves in the interests of
+their country, and yet were compromised daily by a thousand
+extravagances; then they related falsehoods that were utterly without
+foundation, and yet were made to appear quite probable by the
+disgraceful conduct of the young men before us. You may imagine how
+cruelly I suffered, both as a fiancee and as a legitimist. I blushed for
+our party in the presence of the enemy; I felt the insult offered to me
+personally less than I did the abuse brought upon our cause. In
+listening to those deserved sneers I detested Messrs. de S. as much as I
+did Roger. I decided during this hour of vexation and shame that I would
+rather always remain simple Madame Gruerin than become the Princess de
+Monbert.
+
+What do you think of this despair, the result of champagne? Ought I not
+to be touched by it? How sweet it is to see one's self so deeply
+regretted!
+
+It is quite poetical and even mythological; Ariadne went no further than
+this. She demanded of Bacchus consolation for the sorrows caused by
+love. How beautifully _he_ sang the hymn to Bacchus in the last act of
+Antigone! He has a fine tenor voice; until now I was not aware of his
+possessing this gift. How happy he seemed among his charming
+companions! Valentine, was I not right in saying that the trial of
+discouragement is infallible? In love despair is a snare; to cease to
+hope is to cease to feign; a man returns to his nature as soon as
+hypocrisy is useless. The Prince has proved to me that he prefers low
+society, that it is his natural element; that he had completely
+metamorphosed himself so as to appear before us as an elegant, refined,
+dignified gentleman!
+
+Oh! this evening he certainly was sincere; his real character was on the
+surface; he made no effort to restrain himself; he was perfectly at
+home, in his element; and one cannot disguise his delight at being in
+his element. There is a carelessness in his movements that betrays his
+self-satisfaction; he struts and spreads himself with an air of
+confidence; he seems to float in the air, to swim on the crest of the
+wave ... People can conceal their delight when they have recognised an
+adored being among a crowd ... can avoid showing that a piece of
+information casually heard is an important fact that they have been
+trying to discover for weeks; ... can hide sudden fear, deep vexation,
+great joy; but they cannot hide this agreeable impression, this
+beatitude that they feel upon suddenly returning to their element, after
+long days of privation and constraint. Well, my dear, the element of
+Monsieur de Monbert is low company. I take credit to myself for not
+saying anything more.
+
+I have often observed these base proclivities in persons of the same
+high condition of life as the Prince. Men brought up in the most refined
+and cultivated society, destined to fill important positions in life,
+take the greatest pleasure in associating-with common people; they
+impose elegance upon themselves as a duty, and indulge in vulgarity as a
+recreation; they have a spite against these charming qualities they are
+compelled to assume, and indemnify themselves for the trouble of
+acquiring them by rendering them mischievously useless when they seek
+low society and attempt to shine where their brilliancy is
+unappreciated. This low tendency of human nature explains the eternal
+struggle between nature and education; explains the taste, the passion
+of intelligent distinguished men for bad company; the more reserved and
+dignified they are in their manners, the more they seek the society of
+worthless men and blemished women. Another reason for this low
+proclivity is the vanity of men; they like to be admired and flattered,
+although they know their admirers are utterly worthless and despicable.
+
+All these turpitudes would be unimportant if our poor nobility were
+still triumphantly occupying their rightful position; but while they are
+struggling to recover their prestige what can be done with such
+representatives? Oh, I hated those little fools who by their culpable
+folly compromised so noble a cause! Can they not see that each of their
+silly blunders furnishes an arm against the principles they defend,
+against their party, against us all? They are at war with a country that
+distrusts their motives and detests and envies their advantages ... and
+they amuse themselves by irritating the country by their aggressive
+hostility and blustering idleness. By thus displaying their ill manners
+and want of sense, it seems as if they wished to justify all the
+accusations of their enemies and gain what they really deserve, a worse
+reputation than they already bear. They are accused of being ignorant
+... they are illiterate! They are accused of being impudent ... They are
+insolent! They are accused of being beasts ... They show themselves to
+be brutes! And yet not much is exacted of them, because they are known
+to be degenerate. Only half what is required from others is expected
+from them. They are not asked for heroism or talent, or genius: they are
+only expected to behave with dignity, they cannot even assume it! They
+are not asked to add to the lustre of their names, they are only
+entreated to respect them--and they drag them in the mire! Ah, these
+people make me die of shame and indignation.
+
+It is from this nursery of worthless, idle young fops that I, Irene de
+Chateaudun, will be forced to choose a husband. No, never will I suffer
+the millions that Providence has bestowed upon me to be squandered upon
+ballet-dancers and the scum of Paris! If it be absolutely necessary that
+my fortune should be enjoyed by women, I will bestow it upon a convent,
+where I will retire for the rest of my life; but I certainly would
+prefer becoming the wife of a poor, obscure, but noble-minded student,
+thirsting for glory and ambitious of making illustrious his plebeian
+name, seeking among the dust of ages for the secret of fame ... than to
+marry one of the degenerate scions of an old family, who crawl around
+crushed by the weight of their formidable name; these little burlesque
+noblemen who retain nothing of their high position but pride and vanity;
+who can neither think, act, work nor suffer for their country; these
+disabled knights who wage war against bailiffs and make their names
+notorious in the police offices and tap-rooms of the Boulevard.
+
+It is glorious to feel flowing in one's veins noble, heroic blood, to be
+intoxicated with youthful pride when studying the history of one's
+country, to see one's school-mates forced to commit to memory as a duty,
+the brilliant record of the heroic deeds of our ancestors! To enter upon
+a smooth path made easy and pleasant for us by those gone before; to be
+already armed with the remembrance of noble deeds, laden with generous
+promises; to have praiseworthy engagements to fulfil, grand hopes to
+realize; to have in the past powerful protectors, inspiring models that
+one can invoke in the hour of crisis like exceptional patrons, like
+saints belonging exclusively to one's own family; to have one's conduct
+traced out by masters of whom we are proud; to have nothing to
+imagine--nothing to originate, no good example to set, nothing to do but
+to nobly continue the work grandly commenced, to keep up the tradition,
+to follow the old routine--it is especially glorious when the tradition
+is of honor, when the routine is of glory.
+
+But who comprehends these sentiments now? Who dares utter these noble
+words without an ironical smile? Only a few helpless believers like
+myself who still energetically but vainly protest against these
+degradations. Some go to Algeria to prove their hereditary bravery and
+obtain the Cross of Honor they are deprived of here; others retire to
+their chateaux and study the fine arts, thus enjoying the only generous
+resource of discouraged souls; surrounded by the true and the beautiful,
+they try to forget an ungrateful and degenerate party. Others, disciples
+of Sully, temper their strength by hard work in the fruitful study of
+sacred science, and become enthusiastic, absorbed husbandmen, in order
+to conceal their misanthropy. But what can they do? Fight all alone for
+a deserted cause? What can the best officers accomplish without
+soldiers?
+
+You see, Valentine, I forget my own sorrows in thinking of our common
+woes; when I reflect upon the sad state of public affairs, I find Roger
+doubly culpable. Possessing so brilliant a mind, such superb talents, he
+could by his influence bring these young fools back to the path of
+honor. How unpardonable it is in him to lead them further astray by his
+dangerous example?
+
+Oh, Valentine! I feel that I am not fitted to live in times like these.
+Everything displeases me. The people of past ages seemed unintelligent,
+impracticable the people of the present day are coarse and
+hypocritical--the former understand nothing, the latter pervert
+everything. The former had not the attainments that I require, the
+latter have not the delicacy that I exact. The world is ugly; I have
+seen enough of it. It is sad to think of one so young as I, just
+entering upon life, having my head weighed down by the cares and
+disappointments of sixty years! For a blonde head this weight is very
+heavy!
+
+What! in this grand world, not one noble being, not one elevated soul
+possessed of high aspirations and a holy respect for love!
+
+For a young woman to own millions and be compelled to hoard them because
+she has no one to bestow them upon! To be rich, young, free, generous,
+and forced to live alone because no worthy partner can be found!...
+
+Valentine, is not this a sad case?
+
+Now my anger is gone--I am only sad, but I am mortally sad.... I know
+not what to do.... Would I could fly to your arms! Ah! mother! my
+mother! why am I left to struggle all alone in this unfeeling world!
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Saint Dominique Street, Paris.
+
+RICHEPORT, June 8th 18--.
+
+She is here! Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!
+
+The same day that you found Irene, I recovered Louise!
+
+In making my tenth pilgrimage from Richeport to Pont de l'Arche, I
+caught a glimpse from afar of Madame Taverneau's plump face encased in a
+superb bonnet embellished with flaming ribbons! The drifting sea-weed
+and floating fruit which were the certain indication to Christopher
+Columbus of the presence of his long-dreamed-of land, did not make his
+heart bound with greater delight than mine at the sight of Madame
+Taverneau's bonnet! For that bonnet was the sign of Louise's return.
+
+Oh! how charming thou didst appear to me then, frightful tulle cabbage,
+with thy flaunting strings like unto an elephant's ears, and thy
+enormous bows resembling those pompons with which horses' heads are
+decorated! How much dearer to me wert thou than the diadem of an
+empress, a vestal's fillet, the ropes of pearls twined among the jetty
+locks of Venice's loveliest patricians, or the richest head-dress of
+antique or modern art!
+
+Ah, but Madame Taverneau was handsome! Her complexion, red as a beet,
+seemed to me fresh as a new-blown rose,--so the poets always say,--I
+could have embraced her resolutely, so happy was I.
+
+The thought that Madame Taverneau might have returned alone flashed
+through my mind ere I reached the threshold, and I felt myself grow
+pale, but a glance through the half-open door drove away my terror.
+There, bending over her table, was Louise, rolling grains of rice in red
+sealing-wax in order to fill the interstices between the seals that she
+had gotten from me, and among which figured marvellously well your crest
+so richly and curiously emblazoned.
+
+A slender thread of light falling upon the soft contour of her
+features, carved in cameo their pure and delicate outline. When she saw
+me a faint blush brightened her pallor like a drop of crimson in a cup
+of milk; she was charming, and so distinguished-looking that, putting
+aside the pencils, the vase of flowers, the colors and the glass of
+clear water beside her, I should never have dreamt that a simple
+screen-painter sat before me.
+
+Isn't it strange, when so many fashionable women in the highest position
+look like apple-sellers or old-clothes women in full dress, that a girl
+in the humblest walks of life should have the air of a princess, in
+spite of her printed cotton gown!
+
+With me, dear Roger, Louise Guerin the grisette has vanished; but Louise
+Guerin, a charming and fascinating creature whom any one would be proud
+to love, has taken her place. You know that with all my oddities, my
+wilfulness, my _Huronisms_ as you call them, the slightest equivocal
+word, the least approach to a bold jest, uttered by feminine lips shocks
+me. Louise has never, in the many conversations that I have had with
+her, alarmed my captious modesty; and often the most innocent young
+girls, the virtuous mothers of a family, have made me blush up to my
+eyes. I am by no means so prudish; I discourse upon Trimalcion's feast
+and the orgies of the twelve Caesars, but certain expressions, used by
+every one, never pass my lips; I imagine that I see toads and serpents
+drop from the tongues of those who speak them: only roses and pearls
+fall from Louise's lips. How many women have fallen in my eyes from the
+rank of a goddess to the condition of a fishwoman, by one word whose
+ignominy I might try in vain to make them understand!
+
+I have told you all this, my dear Roger, so that you may see how from an
+ordinary railway adventure, a slight flirtation, has resulted a serious
+and genuine love. I treat myself and things with rough frankness, and
+closely scan my head and heart, and arrive at the same result--I am
+desperately in love with Louise. The result does not alarm me; I have
+never shrunk from happiness. It is my peculiar style of courage, which
+is rarer than you imagine; I have seen men who would seek the bubble
+reputation even in the cannon's mouth, who had not the courage to be
+happy!
+
+Since her return Louise appears thoughtful and agitated; a change has
+come over the spirit of her dream. It is evident that her journey has
+thrown new light upon her situation. Something important has taken place
+in her life. What is it? I neither know nor care to know. I accept
+Louise as I find her with her present surroundings. Perhaps absence has
+revealed to her, as it has to me, that another existence is necessary to
+her. This at least is certain, she is less shy, less reserved, more
+confiding; there is a tender grace in her manner unfelt before. When we
+walk in the garden, she leans upon my arm, instead of touching it with
+the tips of her fingers. Now, when I am with her, her cold reserve
+begins to thaw, and instead of going on with her work, as formerly, she
+rests her head on her hand and gazes at me with a dreamy fixedness
+singular to behold. She seems to be mentally deliberating something, and
+trying to come to a conclusion. May Eros, with his golden arrows, grant
+that it prove favorable to me! It will prove so, or human will has no
+power, and the magnetic fluid is an error!
+
+We are sometimes alone, but that cursed door is never shut, and Madame
+Taverneau paces up and down outside, coming in at odd moments to enliven
+the conversation with a witticism, in which exercise the good woman,
+unhappily, thinks she excels. She fears that Louise, who is not
+accustomed to the usages of society, may tire me. I am neither a Nero
+nor a Caligula, but many a time have I mentally condemned the honest
+post-mistress to the wild beasts of the Circus!
+
+To get Louise away from this room, whose architecture is by no means
+conducive to love-making, I contrived a boating party to the Andelys,
+with the respectable view of visiting the ruins of Richard
+Coeur-de-Lion's fortress. The ascent is extremely rough, for the donjon
+is poised, like an eagle's nest, upon the summit of a steep rock; and I
+counted upon Madame Taverneau, strangled in her Sunday stays,
+breathless, perspiring, red as a lobster put on hot-water diet, taking
+time half-way up the ascent to groan and fan herself with her
+handkerchief.
+
+Alfred stopped by on his way from Havre, and for once in his life was in
+season. I placed the rudder in his hands, begging at the same time that
+he would spare me his fascinating smiles, winks and knowing glances. He
+promised to be a stock and kept his word, the worthy fellow!
+
+A fresh breeze sprang up in time to take us up the river. We found
+Louise and Madame Taverneau awaiting us upon the pier, built a short
+time since in order to stem the rush of water from the bridge.
+
+Proud of commanding the embarkation, Alfred established himself with
+Madame Taverneau, wrapped in a yellow shawl with a border of green
+flowers, in the stern. Louise and I, in order to balance the boat,
+seated ourselves in the bows.
+
+The full sail made a sort of tent, and isolated us completely from our
+companions. Louise, with only a narrow canvas shaking in the wind
+between her and her chaperon, feeling no cause for uneasiness, was less
+reserved; a third party is often useful in the beginning of a love idyl.
+The most prudish woman in the world will grant slight favors when sure
+they cannot be abused.
+
+Our boat glided through the water, leaving a fringe of silver in its
+wake. Louise had taken off her glove, and, leaning over the side, let
+the water flow in crystal cascades through her ivory fingers; her dress,
+which she gathered round her from the too free gambols of the wind,
+sculptured her beauty by a closer embrace. A few little wild flowers
+scattered their restless leaves over her bonnet, the straw of which, lit
+up by a bright sun-ray, shed around her a sort of halo. I sat at her
+feet, embracing her with my glance; bathing her in magnetic influences;
+surrounding her with an atmosphere of love! I called to my assistance
+all the powers of my mind and heart to make her love me and promise to
+be mine!
+
+Softly I whispered to myself: "Come to my succor, secret forces of
+nature, spring, youth, delicate perfumes, bright rays! Let soft zephyrs
+play around her pure brow; flowers of love, intoxicate her with your
+searching odors; let the god of day mingle his golden beams with the
+purple of her veins; let all living, breathing things whisper in her ear
+that she is beautiful, only twenty, that I am young and that I love
+her!" Are poetical tirades and romantic declarations absolutely
+necessary to make a lovely woman rest her blushing brow upon a young
+man's shoulder?
+
+My burning gaze fascinated her; she sat motionless under my glance. I
+felt my hope sparkle in my eyes; her eyelids slowly drooped; her arms
+sank at her side; her will succumbed to mine; aware of her growing
+weakness, she made a final effort, covered her eyes with her hand, and
+remained several minutes in that attitude in order to recover from the
+radiations of my will.
+
+When she had, in a measure, recovered her self-possession, she turned
+her head towards the river-bank and called my attention to the charming
+effect of a cottage embosomed in trees, from which rickety steps,
+moss-grown and picturesquely studded with flowers, led down to the
+river. One of Isabey's delicious water-colors, dropped here without his
+signature. Louise--for art, no matter how humble, always expands the
+mind--has a taste for the beauties of nature, wanting in nearly her
+whole sex. A flower-stand filled with roses best pleases the majority of
+women, who cultivate a love of flowers in order to provoke anacreontic
+and obsolete comparisons from their antiquated admirers.
+
+The banks of the Seine are truly enchanting. The graceful hills are
+studded with trees and waving corn-fields; here and there a rock peeps
+picturesquely forth; cottages and distant chateaux are betrayed by their
+glittering slate roofs; islets as wild as those of the South Sea rise on
+the bosom of the waters like verdure-clad rafts, and no Captain Cook has
+ever mentioned these Otaheites a half-day's journey from Paris.
+
+Louise intelligently and feelingly admired the shading of the foliage,
+the water rippled by a slight breeze, the rapid flight of the
+kingfisher, the languid swaying to and fro of the water-lily, the
+little forget-me-nots opening their timid blue eyes to the morning sun,
+and all the thousand and one beauties dotted along the river's bank. I
+let her steep her soul in nature's loveliness, which could only teach
+her to love.
+
+In about four hours we reached the Andelys, and after a light lunch of
+fresh eggs, cream, strawberries and cherries, we began the ascent to the
+fortress of the brave king Richard.
+
+Alfred got along famously with Madame Taverneau, having completely
+dazzled her by an account of his high social acquaintance. During the
+voyage he had repeated more names than can be found in the Royal
+Almanac. The good post-mistress listened with respectful deference,
+delighted at finding herself in company with such a highly connected
+individual. Alfred, who is not accustomed, among us, to benevolent
+listeners, gave himself up to the delight of being able to talk without
+fear of interruption from jests and ironical puns. They had charmed each
+other.
+
+The stronghold of Richard Coeur-de-Lion recalls, by its situation and
+architecture, the castles of the Rhine. The stone-work is so confounded
+with the rock that it is impossible to say where nature's work ends or
+man's work begins.
+
+We climbed, Louise and I, in spite of the steep ascent, the loose
+stones, over the ramparts fallen to decay, the brushwood and all sorts
+of obstacles, to the foot of the mass of towers built one within
+another, which form the donjon-keep. Louise was obliged more than once,
+in scrambling up the rocks, to give me her hand and lean upon my
+shoulder. Even when the way was less rugged, she did not put aside her
+unconstrained and confiding manner; her timid and intense reserve began
+to soften a little.
+
+Madame Taverneau, who is not a sylph, hung with all her weight to
+Alfred's arm, and what surprises me is that she did not pull it off.
+
+We made our way through the under-brush, masses of rubbish and crumbling
+walls, to the platform of the massive keep, from whence we saw, besides
+the superb view, far away in the distance, Madame Taverneau's yellow
+shawl, shining through the foliage like a huge beetle.
+
+At this height, so far above the world, intoxicated by the fresh air,
+her cheek dyed a deeper red, her hair loosened from its severe
+fastenings, Louise was dazzlingly and radiantly beautiful; her bonnet
+had fallen off and was only held by the ribbon strings; a handful of
+daisies escaped from her careless grasp.
+
+"What a pity," said I, "that I have not a familiar spirit at my service!
+We should soon see the stones replaced, the towers rise from the grass
+where they have slept so long, and raise their heads in the sunlight;
+the drawbridge slide on its hinges, and men-at-arms in dazzling
+cuirasses pass and repass behind the battlements. You should sit beside
+me as my chatelaine, in the great hall, under a canopy emblazoned with
+armorial bearings, the centre of a brilliant retinue of ladies in
+waiting, archers and varlets. You should be the dove of this kite's
+nest!"
+
+This fancy made her smile, and she replied: "Instead of amusing yourself
+in rebuilding the past, look at the magnificent scene stretched out
+before you."
+
+In fact, the sky was gorgeous; the sun was sinking behind the horizon,
+in a hamlet of clouds, ruined and abandoned to the fury of the names of
+sunset; the darkened hills were shrouded in violet tints; through the
+light mists of the valley the river shone at intervals like the polished
+surface of a Damascus blade. The blue smoke ascended from the chimneys
+of the village of Andelys, nestling at the foot of the mountain; the
+silvery tones of the bells ringing the Angelus came to us on the evening
+breeze; Venus shone soft and pure in the western sky. Madame Taverneau
+had not yet joined us; Alfred's fascinations had made her forget her
+companion.
+
+Louise, uneasy at being so long separated from her chaperon, leaned over
+the edge of the battlement. A stone, which only needed the weight of a
+tired swallow to dislodge it, rolled from Under Louise's foot, who,
+terribly frightened, threw herself in my arms. I held her for a moment
+pressed to my heart. She was very pale; her head was thrown back, the
+dizziness of lofty heights had taken possession of her.
+
+"Do not let me fall; my head whirls!"
+
+"Fear not," I replied; "I am holding you, and the spirit of the gulf
+shall not have you."
+
+"Ouf! What an insane idea, to climb like cats over this old pile of
+stones!" cried Alfred, who had finally arrived, dragging after him
+Madame Taverneau, who with her shawl looked like a poppy in a
+corn-field. We left the tower and gained our boat. Louise threw me a
+tearful and grateful glance, and seated herself by Madame Taverneau. A
+tug-boat passed us; we hailed it; it threw us a rope, and in a few hours
+we were at Pont de l'Arche.
+
+This is a faithful account of our expedition; it is nothing, and yet a
+great deal. It is sufficient to show me that I possess some influence
+over Louise; that my look fascinates her, my voice affects her, my touch
+agitates her; for one moment I held her trembling against my heart; she
+did not repulse me. It is true that by a little feminine Jesuitism,
+common enough, she might ascribe all this to vertigo, a sort of vertigo
+common to youth and love, which has turned more heads than all the
+precipices of Mount Blanc!
+
+What a strange creature is Louise! An inexplicable mixture of acute
+intelligence and virgin modesty, displaying at the same time an
+ignorance and information never imagined. These piquant contrasts make
+me admire her all the more. The day after to-morrow Madame Taverneau is
+going on business to Rouen. Louise will be alone, and I intend to repeat
+the donjon scene, with improvements and deprived of the inopportune
+appearance of Madame Taverneau's yellow shawl and the luckless Alfred's
+green hunting-dress. What delicious dreams will visit me to-night in my
+hammock at Richeport!
+
+My next letter will begin, I hope, with this triumphant line of the
+Chevalier de Bertin:
+
+  "Elle est a moi, divinites du Pinde!"
+
+Good-bye, my dear Roger. I wish you good luck in your search. Since you
+have once seen Irene, she cannot wear Gyges' ring. You may meet her
+again; but if you have to make your way through six Boyars, three
+Moldavians, eleven bronze statues, ten check-sellers, crush a multitude
+of King Charles spaniels, upset a crowd of fruit-stands, go straight as
+a bullet towards your beauty; seize her by the tip of her wing, politely
+but firmly, like a gendarme; for the Prince Roger de Monbert must not be
+the plaything of a capricious Parisian heiress.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES;
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+PONT DE L'ARCHE, June 18th 18--.
+
+I have only time to send you a line with the box of ribbons The trunk
+will go to-morrow by the stage. I would have sent it before, but the
+children's boots were not done. It is impossible to get anything done
+now--the storekeepers say they can't get workmen, the workmen say they
+can't get employment. Blanchard will be in Paris to superintend its
+packing. If you are not pleased with your things, especially the blue
+dress and mauve bonnet, I despair of ever satisfying you. I did not take
+your sashes to Mlle. _Vatelin_. It was Prince de Monbert's fault; in
+passing along the Boulevards I saw him talking to a gentleman--I turned
+into Panorama street--he followed me, and to elude him I went into the
+Chinese store. M. de Monbert remained outside; I bought some tea, and
+telling the woman I would send for it, went out by the opposite door
+which opens on Vivienne street. The Prince, who has been away from Paris
+for ten years, was not aware of this store having two exits, so in this
+way I escaped him. This hateful prince is also the cause of my returning
+here. The day after that wretched evening at the Odeon, I went to
+inquire about my cousin. There I found that Madame de Langeac had left
+Fontainebleau and gone to Madame de H.'s, where they are having private
+theatricals. She returns to Paris in ten days, where she begs me to wait
+for her. I also heard that M. de Monbert had had quite a scene with the
+porter on the same morning--insisting that he had seen me, and that he
+would not be put off by lying servants any longer; his language and
+manner quite shocked the household. The prospect of a visit from him
+filled me with fright. I returned to my garret--Madame Taverneau was
+anxiously waiting for my return, and carried me off without giving me
+anytime for reflection; so I am here once more. Perhaps you think that
+in this rural seclusion, under the shade of these willows, I ought to
+find tranquillity? Just the reverse. A new danger threatens me; I escape
+from a furious prince, to be ensnared by a delirious poet. I went away
+leaving M. de Meilhan gracious, gallant, but reasonable; I return to
+find him presuming, passionate, foolish. It makes me think that absence
+increases my attractiveness, and separation clothes me with new charms.
+
+This devotion is annoying, and I am determined to nip it in the bud; it
+fills me with a horrible dread that in no way resembles the charming
+fear I have dreamed of. The young poet takes a serious view of the
+flattery I bestowed upon him only in order to discover what his friend
+had written about me; he has persuaded himself that I love him, and I
+despair of being able to dispel the foolish notion.
+
+I have uselessly assumed the furious air of an angry Minerva, the
+majestic deportment of the Queen of England opening Parliament, the
+prudish, affected behavior of a school-mistress on promenade; all this
+only incites his hopes. If it were love it might be seductive and
+dangerous, but it is nothing more than magnetism.... You may laugh, but
+it is surely this and nothing else; he acts as if he were under some
+spell of fascination; he looks at me in a malevolent way that he thinks
+irresistible.... But I find it unendurable. I shall end by frankly
+telling him that in point of magnetism I am no longer free ... "that I
+love another," as the vaudeville says, and if he asks who is this other,
+I shall smilingly tell him, "it is the famous disciple of Mesmer, Dr.
+Dupotet."
+
+Yesterday his foolish behavior was very near causing my death. Alarmed
+by an embarrassing tete-a-tete in the midst of an old castle we were
+visiting, I mounted the window-sill in one of the towers to call Madame
+Taverneau, whom I saw at the foot of the hill; the stone on which I
+stood gave way, and if M. de Meilhan had not shown great presence of
+mind and caught me, I would have fallen down a precipice forty feet
+deep! Instant death would have been the result. Oh! how frightened I
+was! I tremble yet. My terror was so great that I would have fainted if
+I had had a little more confidence; but another fear made me recover
+from this. Fortunately I am going away from here, and this trifling will
+be over.
+
+Yes, certainly I will accompany you to Geneva. Why can't we go as far as
+Lake Como? What a charming trip to take, and what comfort we will enjoy
+in my nice carriage! You must know that my travelling-carriage is a
+wonder; it is being entirely renovated, and directly it is finished, I
+will jump in it and fly to your arms. Of course you will ask what I am
+to do with a travelling-carriage--I who have never made but one journey
+in my life, and that from the Marais to the Faubourg Saint Honore? I
+will reply, that I bought this carriage because I had the opportunity;
+it is a chef-d'oeuvre. There never was a handsomer carriage made in
+London. It was invented--and you will soon see what a splendid invention
+it is--for an immensely rich English lady who is always travelling, and
+who is greatly distressed at having to sell it, but she believes herself
+pursued by an audacious young lover whom she wishes to get rid of, and
+as he has always recognised her by her carriage, she parts with it in
+order to put him off her track. She is an odd sort of woman whom they
+call Lady Penock; she resembles Levassor in his English roles; that is
+to say, she is a caricature. Levassor would not dare to be so
+ridiculous.
+
+Good-bye, until I see you. When I think that in one month we shall be
+together again, I forget all my sorrows.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR DE MEILHAN,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, June 19th 18--.
+
+It is useless to slander the police; we are obliged to resort to them in
+our dilemmas; the police are everywhere, know everything, and are
+infallible. Without the police Paris would go to ruin; they are the
+hidden fortification, the invisible rampart of the capital; its numerous
+agents are the detached forts. Fouche was the Vauban of this wonderful
+system, and since Fouche's time, the art has been steadily approaching
+perfection. There is to-day, in every dark corner of the city an eye
+that watches over our fifty-four gates, and an ear that hears the
+pulsations of all the streets, those great arteries of Paris.
+
+The incapacity of my own agents making me despair of discovering
+anything; I went to the Polyphemus of Jerusalem street, a giant whose
+ever open eye watches every Ulysses. They told me in the office--Return
+in three days.
+
+Three centuries that I had to struggle through! How many centuries I
+have lived during the last month!
+
+The police! Why did not this luminous idea enter my mind before?
+
+At this office of public secrets they said to me: Mlle. de Chateaudun
+left Paris five days ago. On the 12th she passed the night at Sens; she
+then took the route to Burgundy; changed horses at Villevallier, and on
+the 14th stopped at the chateau of Madame de Lorgeville, seven miles
+from Avallon.
+
+The particularity of this information startled me. What wonderful
+clock-work! What secret wheels! What intelligent mechanism! It is the
+machine of Marly applied to a human river. At Rome a special niche would
+have been devoted to the goddess of Police.
+
+What a lesson to us! How circumspect it should make us! Our walls are
+diaphanous, our words are overheard; our steps are watched ...
+everything said and done reaches by secret informers and invisible
+threads the central office of Jerusalem street. It is enough to make one
+tremble!!!
+
+_At the chateau of Mad. de Lorgeville_!
+
+I walked along repeating this sentence to myself, with a thousand
+variations: At the chateau of Mad. de Lorgeville.
+
+After a decennial absence, I know nobody in Paris--I am just as much of
+a stranger as the ambassador of Siam.... Who knows Mad. de Lorgeville?
+M. de Balaincourt is the only person in Paris who can give me the
+desired information--he is a living court calendar. I fly to see M. de
+Balaincourt.
+
+This oracle answers me thus: Mad. de Lorgeville is a very beautiful
+woman, between twenty-four and twenty-six years of age. She possesses a
+magnificent _mezzo-soprano_ voice, and twenty thousand dollars income.
+She learnt miniature painting from Mad. Mirbel, and took singing lessons
+from Mad. Damoyeau. Last winter she sang that beautiful duo from Norma,
+with the Countess Merlin, at a charity concert.
+
+I requested further details.
+
+Madame de Lorgeville is the sister of the handsome Leon de Varezes.
+
+Oh! ray of light! glimmer of sun through a dark cloud!
+
+The handsome Leon de Varezes! The ugly idea of troubadour beauty! A fop
+fashioned by his tailor, and who passes his life looking at his figure
+reflected in four mirrors as shiny and cold as himself!
+
+I pressed M. de Balaincourt's hand and once again plunged into the
+vortex of Paris.
+
+If the handsome Leon were only hideous I would feel nothing but
+indifference towards him, but he has more sacred rights to my hatred, as
+you will see.
+
+Three months ago this handsome Leon made a proposal of marriage to Mlle.
+de Chateaudun--she refused him. This is evidently a preconcerted plan;
+or it is a ruse. The handsome Leon had a lady friend well known by
+everybody but himself, and he has deferred this marriage in order to
+gild, after the manner of Ruolz, his last days of bachelorhood;
+meanwhile Mlle. de Chateaudun received her liberty, and during this
+truce I have played the role of suitor. Either of these conjectures is
+probable--both may be true--one is sufficient to bring about a
+catastrophe!
+
+This fact is certain, the handsome Leon is at the waters of Ems enjoying
+his expiring hours of single-blessedness in the society of his painted
+friend, and his family are keeping Mile. de Chateaudun at the Chateau de
+Lorgeville till the season at Ems is over. In a few days the handsome
+Leon, on pretence of important business, will leave his Dulcinea, and,
+considering himself freed from an unlawful yoke, will come to the
+Chateau de Lorgeville to offer his innocent hand and pure homage to
+Mile. de Chateaudun. In whatever light the matter is viewed, I am a
+dupe--a butt! I know well that people say: "_Prince Roger is a good
+fellow_" With this reputation a man is exposed to all the feline
+wickedness of human nature, but when once aroused "the good fellow" is
+transformed, and all turn pale in his presence.
+
+No, I can never forgive a woman who holds before me a picture of bliss,
+and then dashes it to the ground--she owes me this promised happiness,
+and if she tries to fly from me I have a right to cry "stop thief."
+
+Ah! Mlle. de Chateaudun, you thought you could break my heart, and leave
+me nothing to cherish but the phantom of memory! Well! I promise you
+another ending to your play than you looked for! We will meet again!
+
+Stupid idiot that I was, to think of writing her an apology to vindicate
+my innocent share of the scene at the Odeon! Vindication well spared!
+How she would have laughed at my honest candor!... She shall not have an
+opportunity of laughing! Dear Edgar, in writing these disconsolate lines
+I have lost the calmness that I had imposed upon myself when I began my
+letter. I feel that I am devoured by that internal demon that bears a
+woman's name in the language of love--jealousy! Yes, jealousy fills my
+soul with bitterness, encircles my brow with a band of iron, and makes
+me feel a frenzied desire to murder some fellow-being! During my travels
+I lost the tolerant manners of civilization. I have imbibed the rude
+cruelty of savages--my jealousy is filled with the storms and fire of
+the equator.
+
+What do you pale effeminate young men know of jealousy? Is not your
+professor of jealousy the actor who dashes about on the stage with a
+paste-board sword?
+
+I have studied the monster under other masters; tigers have taught me
+how to manage this passion.
+
+Dear Edgar, once night overtook us amidst the ruins of the fort that
+formerly defended the mouth of the river Caveri in Bengal. It was a dark
+night illumined by a single star like the lamp of the subterranean
+temple of Elephanta. But this lone star was sufficient to throw light
+upon the formidable duel that took place before us upon the sloping bank
+of the ruined fort.
+
+It was the season of love ... how sweet is the sound of these words!
+
+A tawny monster with black spots, belonging to the fair sex of her noble
+race, was calmly quenching her thirst in the river Caveri--after she had
+finished drinking she squatted on her hind feet and stretched her
+forepaws in front of her breast--sphinx-like--and luxuriously rubbed her
+head in and out among the soft leaves scattered on the riverside.
+
+At a little distance the two lovers watched--not with their eyes but
+with their nostrils and ears, and their sharp growl was like the breath
+of the khamsin passing through the branches of the euphorbium and the
+nopal. The two monsters gradually reached the paroxysm of amorous rage;
+they flattened their ears, sharpened their claws, twisted their tails
+like flexible steel, and emitted sparks of fire from eyes and skin.
+
+During this prelude the tigress stretched herself out with stoical
+indifference, pretending to take no interest in the scene--as if she
+were the only animal of her race in the desert. At intervals she would
+gaze with delight at the reflected image of her grace and beauty in the
+river Caveri.
+
+A roar that seemed to burst from the breast of a giant crushed beneath a
+rock, echoed through the solitude. One of the tigers described an
+immense circle in the air and then fell upon the neck of his rival. The
+two tawny enemies stood up on their hind legs, clenching each other like
+two wrestlers, body to body, muzzle to muzzle, teeth to teeth, and
+uttering shrill, rattling cries that cut through the air like the
+clashing of steel blades. Ordinary huntsmen would have fired upon this
+monstrous group. We judged it more noble to respect the powerful hate of
+this magnificent love. As usual the aggressor was the strongest; he
+threw his rival to the ground, crushed him with his whole weight, tore
+him with his claws, and then fastening his long teeth in his victim's
+throat, laid him dead upon the grass--uttering, as he did so, a cry of
+triumph that rang through the forest like the clarion of a conqueror.
+
+The tigress remained in the same spot, quietly licking her paw, and when
+it was quite wet rubbed it over her muzzle and ears with imperturbable
+serenity and charming coquetry.
+
+This scene contained a lesson for both sexes, my dear Edgar. When nature
+chooses our masters she chooses wisely.
+
+Heaven preserve you from jealousy! I do not mean to honor by this name
+that fickle, unjust, common-place sentiment that we feel when our vanity
+assumes the form of love. The jealousy that gnaws my heart is a noble
+and legitimate passion. Not to avenge one's self is to give a premium of
+encouragement to wicked deeds. The forgiveness of wrongs and injuries
+puts certain men and women too much at their ease. Vengeance is
+necessary for the protection of society.
+
+Dear Edgar, tell me of your love; fear not to wound me by a picture of
+your happiness; my heart is too sympathetic for that. Tell me the traits
+that please you most in the object of your tenderness. Let your soul
+expand in her sweet smiles--revel in the intoxicating bliss of those
+long happy talks filled with the enchanting grace and music of a first
+love.
+
+After reading my letter, remove my gloomy picture from your mind--forget
+me quietly; let not a thought of my misery mar your present happiness.
+
+I intend to honor the handsome Leon by devoting my personal attention to
+his future fate.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street (Paris).
+
+RICHEPORT, June 23d 18--.
+
+You place a confidence in the police worthy the prince you are, dear
+Roger; you rely upon their information with a faith that surprises and
+alarms me. How do you expect the police to know anything concerning
+honest people? Never having watched them, being too much occupied with
+scoundrels, they do not know how to go about it. Spies and detectives
+are generally miserable wretches, their name even is a gross insult in
+our language; they are acquainted with the habits and movements of
+thieves, whose dens and haunts they frequent; but what means have they
+of fathoming the whimsical motives of a high-born young girl? Their
+forte is in making a servant drunk, bribing a porter, following a
+carriage or standing sentinel before a door. If Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun has gone away to avoid you, she will naturally suppose that
+you will endeavor to follow her. Of course, she has taken every
+precaution to preserve her incognita--changing her name, for
+instance--which would be sufficient to mystify the police, who, until
+applied to by you, have had no object in watching her movements. The
+proof that the police are mistaken is the exactitude of the information
+that they have given you. It is too much like the depositions of
+witnesses in a criminal trial, who say: "Two years ago, at thirty-three
+minutes and five seconds after nine o'clock in the evening, I met, in
+the dark, a slender man, whose features I could not distinguish, who
+wore olive-green pantaloons, with a brownish tinge." I am very much
+afraid that your expedition into Burgundy will be of none avail, and
+that, haggard-eyed and morose, you will drop in upon a quiet family
+utterly amazed at your domiciliary visit.
+
+My dear Prince, endeavor to recollect that you are not in India; the
+manners of the Sunda Isles do not prevail here, and I feared from your
+letter some desperate act which would put you in the power of your
+friends, the police. In Europe we have professors of aesthetics,
+Sanscrit, Slavonic, dancing and fencing, but professors of jealousy are
+not authorized. There is no chair in the College of France for wild
+beasts; lessons expressed in roarings and in blows from savage paws do
+very well for the fabulous tiger city of Java legends. If you are
+jealous, try to deprive your rival of the railroad grant which he was
+about to obtain, or ruin him in his electoral college by spreading the
+report that, in his youth, he had written a volume of sonnets. This is
+constitutional revenge which will not bring you before the bar of
+justice. The courts now-a-days are so tricky that they might give you
+some trouble even for suppressing such an insipid fop as Leon de
+Varezes. Tigers, whatever you may say, are bad instructors. With regard
+to tigers, we only tolerate cats, and then they must have velvet paws.
+
+These counsels of moderation addressed to you, I have profited by
+myself, for, in another way, I have reached a fine degree of
+exasperation. You suspect, of course, that Louise Guerin is at the
+bottom of it, for a woman is always at the bottom of every man's
+madness. She is the leaven that ferments all our worst passions.
+
+Madame Taverneau set out for Rouen; I went to see Louise, my heart full
+of joy and hope. I found her alone, and at first thought that the
+evening would be decisive, for she blushed high on seeing me. But who
+the deuce can count upon women! I left her the evening before, sweet,
+gentle and confiding; I found her cold, stern, repelling and talking to
+me as if she had never seen me before. Her manner was so convincing that
+nothing had passed between us, that I found it necessary to take a rapid
+mental survey of all the occurrences of our expedition to the Andelys to
+prove to myself that I was not somebody else. I may have a thousand
+faults, but vanity is not among them. I rarely flatter myself,
+consequently I am not prone to believe that every one is thunder-struck,
+in the language of the writers of the past century, on beholding me. My
+interpretation of glances, smiles, tones of the voice are generally
+very faithful; I do not pass over expressions that displease me. I put
+this interpretation upon Louise's conduct. I do not feel an insuperable
+dislike to M. Edgar de Meilhan. Sure of the meaning of my text, I acted
+upon it, but Louise assumed such imposing and royal airs, such haughty
+and disdainful poses, that unless I resorted to violence I felt I could
+obtain nothing from her. Rage, instead of love, possessed me; my hands
+clenched convulsively, driving the nails into my flesh. The scene would
+have turned into a struggle. Fortunately, I reflected that such
+emphasized declarations of love, with the greater part of romantic and
+heroic actions, were not admitted in the Code.
+
+I left abruptly, lest the following elegant announcement should appear
+in the police gazettes: "Mr. Edgar de Meilhan, landed proprietor, having
+made an attack upon Madame Louise Guerin, screen-painter, &c."--for I
+felt the strongest desire to strangle the object of my devotion, and I
+think I should have done so had I remained ten minutes longer.
+
+Admire, dear Roger, the wisdom of my conduct, and endeavor to imitate
+it. It is more commendable to control one's passions than an army, and
+it is more difficult.
+
+My wrath was so great that I went to Mantes to see Alfred! To open the
+door of paradise and then shut it in my face, spread before me a
+splendid banquet and prevent me from sitting down to it, promise me love
+and then offer me prudery, is an infamous, abominable and even
+indelicate act. Do you know, dear Roger, that I just escaped looking
+like a goose; the rage that possessed me gave a tragic expression to my
+features, which alone saved me from ridicule! Such things we never
+forgive a woman, and Louise shall pay me yet!
+
+I swear to you that if a woman of my own rank had acted thus towards me,
+I should have crushed her without mercy; but Louise's humble position
+restrained me. I feel a pity for the weak which will be my ruin; for the
+weak are pitiless towards the strong.
+
+Poor Alfred must be an excellent fellow not to have thrown me out of
+the window. I was so dull with him, so provoking, so harsh, so scoffing,
+that I am astonished that he could endure me for two minutes. My nerves
+were in such a state of irritation that I beheaded with my whip more
+than five hundred poppies along the road. I who never have committed an
+assault upon any foliage, whose conscience is innocent of the murder of
+a single flower! For a moment I had a notion to ask a catafalque of the
+romantic Marquise. You may judge from that the disordered state of my
+faculties and my complete moral prostration.
+
+At last, ashamed of abusing Alfred's hospitality in such a manner, and
+feeling incapable of being anything else than irritable, cross-grained
+and intractable, I returned to Richeport, to be as gloomy and
+disagreeable as I pleased.
+
+Here, dear Roger, I pause--I take time, as the actors say; it is worth
+while. As fluently as you may read hieroglyphics, and explain on the
+spot the riddles of the sphinx, you can never guess what I found at
+Richeport, in my mother's room! A white black-bird? a black swan? a
+crocodile? a megalonyx? Priest John or the amorabaquin? No, something
+more enchantingly improbable, more wildly impossible. What was it? I
+will tell you, for a hundred million guesses would never bring you
+nearer the truth.
+
+Near the window, by my mother's side, sat a young woman, bending over an
+embroidery frame, threading a needle with red worsted. At the sound of
+my voice she raised her head and I recognised--Louise Gruerin!
+
+At this unexpected sight, I stood stupified, like Pradon's Hippolyte.
+
+To see Louise Guerin quietly seated in my mother's room, was as
+electrifying as if you, on going home some morning, were to find Irene
+de Chateaudun engaged in smoking one of your cigars. Did some strange
+chance, some machiavellian combination introduce Louise at Richeport? I
+shall soon know.
+
+What a queer way to avoid men, to take up one's abode among them! Only
+prudes have such ideas. At any rate it is a gross insult to my powers
+of fascination. I am not such a patriarch as all that! My head still
+counts a few hairs, and I can walk very well without a cane!
+
+What does it matter, after all? Louise lives under the same roof with
+me, my mother treats her in the most gracious manner, like an equal.
+And, indeed, one would be deceived by her; she seems more at her ease
+here than at Madame Taverneau's, and what would be a restraint on a
+woman of her class, on the contrary gives her more liberty. Her manners
+have become charming, and I often ask myself if she is not the daughter
+of one of Madame de Meilhan's friends. With wonderful tact she
+immediately put herself in unison with her surroundings; women alone can
+quickly become acclimated in a higher sphere. A man badly brought up
+always remains a booby. Any danseuse taken from the foot-lights of the
+Opera by the caprice of a great lord, can be made a fine lady. Nature
+has doubtless provided for these sudden elevations of fortune by
+bestowing upon women that marvellous facility of passing from one
+position to another without exhibiting surprise or being thrown out of
+their element. Put Louise into a carriage having a countess's crown upon
+the panel of the door, and no one would doubt her rank. Speak to her,
+and she would reply as if she had had the most brilliant education. The
+auspicious opening of a flower transplanted into a soil that suits it,
+shone through Louise's whole being. My manner towards her partakes of a
+tenderer playfulness, a more affectionate gallantry. After all,
+Richeport is better than Pont de l'Arche, for there is nothing like
+fighting on your own ground.
+
+Come then, my friend, and be a looker-on at the courteous tournay. We
+expect Raymond every day; we have all sorts of paradoxes to convert into
+truths; your insight into such matters might assist us. _A bientot_.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+RICHEPORT, June 29th 18--.
+
+I am at Richeport, at Madame de Meilhan's house!... This astonishes you,
+... so it does me; you don't understand it, ... neither do I. The fact
+is, that when you can't control events, the best thing to be done is to
+let events control you.
+
+On Sunday I went to hear mass in the beautiful church at Pont de
+l'Arche, a splendid ruin that looks like a heap of stony lacework,
+lovely guipure torn to pieces; while I was there a lady came in and sat
+beside me; it was Madame de Meilhan. I recognised her at once, having
+been accustomed to seeing her every Sunday at mass. As it was late, and
+the services were almost ended, I thought it very natural that she
+should sit by me to avoid walking the length of the aisle to reach her
+own pew, so I continued to read my prayers without paying any attention
+to her, but she fastened her eyes upon me in such a peculiar way that I,
+in my turn, felt compelled to look up at her, and was startled by the
+alteration of her face; suddenly she tottered and fell fainting on
+Madame Taverneau's shoulder. She was taken out of the church, and the
+fresh air soon restored her to consciousness. She seemed agitated when
+she saw me near her, but the interest I showed in her sickness seemed to
+reassure her; she gracefully thanked me for my kind attention, and then
+looked at me in a way that was very embarrassing. I invited her to
+return with me to Madame Taverneau's and rest herself; she accepted the
+offer, and Madame Taverneau carried her off with great pomp. There
+Madame de Meilhan explained how she had walked alone from Richeport in
+spite of the excessive heat, at the risk of making herself ill, because
+her son had taken the coachman and horses and left home suddenly that
+morning without saying where he was going. As she said this she looked
+at me significantly. I bore these questioning looks with proud
+calmness. I must tell you that the evening before, M de Meilhan had
+called on me during the absence of Madame Taverneau and her husband. The
+danger of the situation inspired me. I treated him with such coldness, I
+reached a degree of dignity so magnificent that the great poet finally
+comprehended there are some glaciers inaccessible, even to him. He left
+me, furious and disconsolate, but I do him the justice to say that he
+was more disconsolate than furious. This real sorrow made me think
+deeply. If he loved me seriously, how culpable was my conduct! I had
+been too coquettish towards him; he could not know that this coquetry
+was only a ruse; that while appearing to be so devoted to him my whole
+mind was filled with another. Sincere love should always be respected;
+one is not compelled to share it, but then one has no right to insult
+it.
+
+The uneasiness of Madame de Meilhan; her conduct towards me--for I was
+certain she had purposely come late to mass and taken a seat by me for
+the purpose of speaking to me and finding out what sort of a person I
+was--the uneasiness of this devoted mother was to me a language more
+convincing of the sincerity of her son's sentiments than all the
+protestations of love he could have uttered in years. A mother's anxiety
+is an unmistakable symptom; it is more significant than all others. The
+jealousy of a rival is not so certain an indication; distrustful love
+may be deceived, but maternal instinct _never_ is. Now, to induce a
+woman of Madame de Meilhan's spirit and character to come agitated and
+trembling to see me, ... why, I can say it without vanity, her son must
+be madly in love, and she wished at all costs either to destroy or cure
+this fatal passion that made him so unhappy.
+
+When she arose to leave, I asked permission to walk back with her to
+Richeport, as she was not well enough to go so far alone; she eagerly
+accepted my offer, and as we went along, conversing upon indifferent
+subjects, her uneasiness gradually disappeared; our conversation seemed
+to relieve her mind of its heavy burden.
+
+It happened that truth spoke for itself, as it always does, but
+unfortunately is not always listened to. By my manners, the tone of my
+voice, my respectful but dignified politeness--which in no way resembled
+Mad. Taverneau's servile and obsequious eagerness to please, her humble
+deference being that of an inferior to a superior, whilst mine was
+nothing more than that due to an old lady from a young one--by these
+shades insignificant to the generality of people, but all revealing to
+an experienced eye, Mad. de Meilhan at once divined everything, that is
+to say, that I was her equal in rank, education and nobility of soul;
+she knew it, she felt it. This fact admitted, one thing remained
+uncertain; why had I fallen from my rank in society? Was it through
+misfortune or error? This was the question she was asking herself.
+
+I knew enough of her projects for the future, her ambition as a mother,
+to decide which of the two suppositions would alarm her most. If I were
+a light, trifling woman, as she every now and then seemed to hope, her
+son was merely engaged in a flirtation that would have no dangerous
+result; if on the contrary I was an honorable woman, which she evidently
+feared might be the case, her son's future was ruined, and she trembled
+for the consequences of this serious passion. Her perplexity amused me.
+The country around us was superb, and as we walked along I went into
+ecstasies over the beauty of the scenery and the lovely tints of the
+sky; she would smile and think: "She is only an artist, an
+adventuress--I am saved; she will merely be Edgar's friend, and keep him
+all the winter at Richeport." Alas! it is a great pity that she is not
+rich enough to spend the winter in Paris with Edgar; she seems miserable
+at being separated from him for months at a time.
+
+At a few yards from the chateaux a group of pretty children chasing a
+poor donkey around a little island attracted my attention.
+
+"That island formerly belonged to the Richeport estate," said Mad. de
+Meilhan; "so did those large meadows you see down below; the height of
+my ambition is to buy them back, but to do this Edgar must marry an
+heiress."
+
+This word troubled me, and Mad. de Meilhan seemed annoyed. She evidently
+thought: "She is an honest woman, and wants to marry Edgar, I fear," I
+took no notice of her sudden coldness of manner, but thought to myself:
+How delightful it would be to carry out these ambitious plans, and
+gratify every wish of this woman's heart! I have but to utter one word,
+and not only would she have this island and these meadows, but she would
+possess all this beautiful forest. Oh! how sweet would it be to feel
+that you are a small Providence on earth, able to penetrate and
+instantly gratify the secret wishes of people you like! Valentine, I
+begin to distrust myself; a temptation like this is too dangerous for a
+nature like mine; I feel like saying to this noble, impoverished lady:
+here, take these meadows, woods and islands that you so tenderly sigh
+for--I could also say to this despairing young poet: here, take this
+woman that you so madly love, marry her and be happy ... without
+remembering that this woman is myself; without stopping to ask if this
+happiness I promise him will add to my own.
+
+Generosity is to me dangerously attractive! How I would love to make the
+fortune of a noble poet! I am jealous of these foreigners who have
+lately given us such lessons in generosity. I would be so happy in
+bestowing a brilliant future upon one who chose and loved me in my
+obscurity, but to do this love is necessary, and my heart is
+broken--dead! I have no love to give.
+
+Then again, M. de Meilhan has so much originality of character, and I
+admit only originality of mind. He puts his horse in his chamber, which
+is an original idea, to be sure; but I think horses had better be kept
+in the stable, where they would certainly be more comfortable. And these
+dreadful poets are such positive beings! Poets are not poetical, my dear
+... Edgar has become romantic since he has been in love with me, but I
+think it is an hypocrisy, and I mistrust his love.
+
+Edgar is undeniably a talented, superior man, and captivating, as the
+beautiful Marquise de R. has proved; but I fail to recognise in his love
+the ideal I dreamed of. It is not the expression of an eye that he
+admires, it is the fine shape of the lids, limpid pupils; it is not the
+ingenuous grace of a smile that pleases him, it is the regularity of the
+lines, the crimson of the lips; to him beauty of soul adds no charm to a
+lovely face. Therefore, this love that a word of mine can render
+legitimate, frightens me as if it were a guilty passion; it makes me
+uneasy and timid. I know you will ridicule me when I say that upon me
+this passionate poet has the same effect as women abounding in
+imagination and originality of mind have upon men, who admire but never
+marry them. He has none of that affectionate gravity so necessary in a
+husband. On every subject our ideas differ; this different way of seeing
+things would cause endless disputes between us, or what is sadder yet,
+mutual sacrifices. Everybody adores the charming Edgar, I say Edgar, for
+it is by this name I daily hear him praised. I wish I could love him
+too! He was astonished to find me at his mother's house yesterday. Since
+my first visit to Richeport, Mad. de Meilhan would not allow a single
+day to pass without my seeing her; each day she contrived a new pretext
+to attract me; a piece of tapestry work to be designed, a view of the
+Abbey to be painted, a new book to read aloud or some music to try; the
+other evening it was raining torrents when I was about leaving and she
+insisted upon my staying all night; now she wishes me to remain for her
+birthday, which is on the 5th; she continues to watch me closely. Mad.
+Taverneau has been questioned--the mute, Blanchard, has been tortured
+... Mad. Taverneau replied that she had known me for three years and
+that during this time I had never ceased to mourn for the late Albert
+Guerin; in her zeal she added that he was a very deserving young man! My
+good Blanchard contented herself with saying that I was worth more than
+Mad. de Meilhan and all of her family put together. While they study me
+I study them. There is no danger in my remaining at Richeport. Edgar
+respects his mother--she watches over me. If necessary, I will tell her
+everything.... She speaks kindly of Mlle. de Chateaudun--she defends
+me.... How I laughed to myself this morning! I heard that M. de Monbert
+had secretly applied to the police to discover my whereabouts and the
+police sent him to join me at Burgundy!... What could have made any one
+think I was there? At whose house will he go to seek me? and whom will
+he find instead of me? However, I may be there before long if my cousin
+will travel by way of Macon. She will not be ready to start before next
+week.
+
+Oh! I am so anxious to see you again! Do not go to Geneva without me.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+PARIS, July 2d 18--.
+
+Do you believe, my dear Edgar, that it is easy to live when the age of
+love is passed? Verily one must be able to love his whole lifetime if he
+wishes to live an enchanted life, and die a painless death. What a
+seductive game! what unexpected luck! How many moments delightfully
+employed! Each day has its particular history; at night we delight in
+telling it over to ourselves, and indulge in the wildest conjectures as
+to what will be the events of each to-morrow. The reality of to-day
+defeats the anticipations of yesterday. We hope one moment and despair
+the next--now dejected, now elated. We alternate between death and
+blissful life.
+
+The other morning at nine o'clock we stopped at the stage-office at Sens
+for ten minutes. I went into the hotel and questioned everybody, and
+found they had seen many young ladies of the age, figure and beauty of
+Mlle. de Chateaudun.
+
+Happy people they must be!
+
+However, I only asked all these questions to amuse myself during the ten
+minutes' relay. My mind was at rest--for the police are infallible;
+everything will be explained at the Chateau de Lorgeville. I stopped my
+carriage some yards from the gate, got out and walked up the long
+avenue, being concealed by the large trees through which I caught
+glimpses of the chateau.
+
+It was a large symmetrical building--a stone quadrangle, heavily topped
+off by a dark slate roof, and a dejected-looking weathercock that
+rebelled against the wind and declined to move.
+
+All the windows in the front of the house were tear-stained at the base
+by the winter rains.
+
+A modern entrance, with double flights of steps decorated by four vases
+containing four dead aloe-stems buried in straw, betrayed the cultivated
+taste of the handsome Leon.
+
+I expected to see the shadow of a living being.... No human outline
+broke the tranquil shade of the trees.
+
+An accursed dog, man's worst enemy, barked furiously, and made violent
+efforts to break his rope and fly at me.... I hope he is tied with a
+gordian knot if he wishes to see the setting sun!
+
+Finally a gardener enjoying a sinecure came to enliven this landscape
+without a garden; he strolled down the avenue with the nonchalance of a
+workman paid by the handsome Leon.
+
+I am able to distinguish among the gravest faces those that can relax
+into a smile at the sight of gold. The gardener passed before me, and
+after he had bestowed upon me the expected smile, I said to him:
+
+"Is this Mad. de Lorgeville's chateau?"
+
+He made an affirmative sign. Once more I bowed to the genius of the
+Jerusalem street goddess.
+
+I said to the gardener in a solemn tone: "Here is a letter of the
+greatest importance; you must hand it to Mlle. de Chateaudun when she is
+alone." I then showed him my purse and said: "After that, this money is
+yours."
+
+"The sweet young lady!" said the gardener, walking off towards the
+chateau with the gold in one hand, the letter in the other, and the
+purse in his eye--"The good young lady! it is a long time since she has
+received a love-letter."
+
+I said to myself, The handsome Leon does not indulge in
+letter-writing--he has a good reason for that.
+
+The following is the letter carried by the gardener to the chateau:--
+
+"Mademoiselle,--
+
+"Desperate situations justify desperate measures. I am willing to
+believe that I am still, by your desire, undergoing a terrible ordeal,
+but I judge myself sufficiently tried.
+
+"I am ready for everything except the misery of losing you. My last sane
+idea is uttered in this warning.
+
+"I must see you; I must speak to you.
+
+"Do not refuse me a few moments' conversation--Mademoiselle, in the name
+of Heaven save me! save yourself!
+
+"There is in the neighborhood of the chateau some farmhouse, or shady
+grove. Name any spot where I can meet you in an hour. I am awaiting your
+answer.... After an hour has passed I will wait for nothing more in this
+world."
+
+The gardener walked along with the nonchalance of the man of the
+Georgics, as if meditating upon the sum of happiness contained in a
+piece of gold. I looked after him with that resignation we feel as the
+end of a great trial approaches.
+
+He was soon lost to view, and in the distance I heard a door open and
+shut.
+
+In a few minutes Mlle. Chateaudun would be reading my letter. I read it
+over in my own mind, and rapidly conjectured the impression each word
+would make upon her heart.
+
+Through the thick foliage where I was concealed, I had a confused view
+of one wing of the chateau; the wall appeared to be covered with green
+tapestry torn in a thousand places. I could distinguish nothing clearly
+at a distance of twenty yards. Finally I saw approaching a graceful
+figure clad in white--and through the trees I caught sight of a blue
+scarf--a muslin dress and blue scarf--nothing more, and yet my heart
+stood still! My sensations at this moment are beyond analyzation. I felt
+an emotion that a man in love will comprehend at once.... A muslin dress
+fluttering under the trees where the fountains ripple and the birds
+sing! Is there a more thrilling sight?
+
+I stood with one foot forward on the gravel-path, and with folded arms
+and bowed head I waited. I saw the scarf fringe before seeing the face.
+I looked up, and there stood before me a lovely woman ... but it was not
+Irene!...
+
+It was Mad. de Lorgeville. She knew me and I recognised her, having
+known her before her marriage. She still possessed the beauty of her
+girlhood, and marriage had perfected her loveliness by adorning her with
+that fascinating grace that is wanting even in Raphael's madonnas.
+
+A peal of merry laughter rooted me to the spot and changed the current
+of my ideas. The lady was seized with such a fit of gayety that she
+could scarcely speak, but managed to gasp out my name and title in
+broken syllables. Like a great many men, I can stand much from women
+that I am not in love with.... I stood with arms crossed and hat off,
+waiting for an explanation of this foolish reception. After several
+attempts, Mad. de Lorgeville succeeded in making her little speech.
+After this storm of laughter there was still a ripple through which I
+could distinguish the following words, although I did not understand
+them:--
+
+"Excuse me, monsieur, ... but if you knew ... when you see ... but she
+must not see my foolish merriment, ... she cherishes the fancy that she
+is still young, ... like all women who are no longer so, ... give me
+your arm, ... we were at table ... we always keep a seat for a chance
+visitor ... One does not often meet with an adventure like this except
+in novels...."
+
+I made an effort to assume that calmness and boldness that saved my life
+the day I was made prisoner on the inhospitable coast of Borneo, and the
+old Arab king accused me of having attempted the traffic of gold dust--a
+capital crime--and said to the fair young chatelaine:
+
+"Madame, there is not much to amuse one in the country; gayety is a
+precious thing; it cannot be bought; happy is he who gives it. I
+congratulate myself upon being able to present it to you. Can you not
+give me back half of it, madame?"
+
+"Yes, monsieur, come and take it yourself," said Madame de Lorgeville;
+"but you must use it with discretion before witnesses."
+
+"I can assure you, madame, that I have not come to your chateau in
+search of gayety. Allow me to escort you to the door and then retire."
+
+"You are my prisoner, monsieur, and I shall not grant your request. The
+arrival of the Prince de Monbert is a piece of good fortune. My husband
+and I will not be ungrateful to the good genius that brought you here.
+We shall keep you."
+
+"One moment, madame," said I, stopping in front of the chateau; "I
+accept the happiness of being retained by you; but will you be good
+enough to name the persons I am to meet here?"
+
+"They are all friends of M. de Monbert."
+
+"Friends are the very people I dread, madame."
+
+"But they are all women."
+
+"Women I dread most of all."
+
+"Ah! monsieur, it is quite evident that you have been among savages for
+ten years."
+
+"Savages are the only beings I am not afraid of!"
+
+"Alas! monsieur, I have nothing in that line to offer you. This evening
+I can show you some neighbors who resemble the tribes of the Tortoise of
+the Great Serpent--these are the only natives I can dispose of. At
+present you will only see my husband, two ladies who are almost widows,
+and a young lady" ... here Mad. de Lorgeville was seized with a new fit
+of laughter ... finally she continued: "A young lady whose name you will
+know later."
+
+"I know it already, madame."
+
+"Perhaps you do ... to-morrow our company will be increased by two
+persons, my brother." ...
+
+"The handsome Leon!"
+
+"Ah you know him!... My brother Leon and his wife." ...
+
+I started so violently that I dropped Mad. de Lorgeville's arm--she
+looked frightened, and I said in a painfully constrained voice:
+
+"And his wife.... Mad. de Varezes?... Ah! I did not know that M. de
+Varezes was married."
+
+"My brother was married a month ago," said Mad. Lorgeville. "He married
+Mlle. de Bligny."
+
+"Are you certain of that, madame?"
+
+This question was asked in a voice and accompanied by an expression of
+countenance that would have made a painter or musician desperate, even
+were they Rossini or Delacroix.
+
+Mad. de Lorgeville, alarmed a second time by my excited manner, looked
+at me with commiseration, as if she thought me crazy! Certainly neither
+my face nor manner indicated sanity.
+
+"You ask if I am sure my brother is married!" said Mad. de Lorgeville
+with petrified astonishment. "You are surely jesting?"
+
+"Yes, madame, yes," said I, with an exuberance of gayety, "it is a
+joke.... I understand it all ... I comprehend everything ... that is to
+say--I understand nothing ... but your brother, the excellent Leon de
+Varezes, is married--that is all I wanted to know.... What a very
+handsome young man he is!... I suppose, madame, that you opened my note
+without reading the address ... or did Mlle. de Chateaudun send you here
+to meet me?"
+
+"Mlle. de Chateaudun is not here ... excuse this silly laughter ... the
+gardener gave your note to one of my guests ... a young lady of
+sixty-five summers.... Who by the strangest coincidence is named Mlle.
+de Chantverdun.... Now you can account for my amusement ... Mlle. de
+Chantverdun is a canoness. She read your letter, and wished for once in
+her life to enjoy uttering a shriek of alarm and faint at the sight of a
+love letter; so come monsieur," said Mad. de Lorgeville, smilingly
+leading me towards the house, "come and make your excuses to Mlle. de
+Chantverdun, who has recovered her senses and sent me to her
+rendezvous."
+
+Involuntarily, my dear Edgar, I indulged in this short monologue after
+the manner of the old romancers: O tender love! passion full of
+intoxication and torment! love that kills and resuscitates! What a
+terrible vacuum thou must leave in life, when age exiles thee from our
+heart! Which means that I was resuscitated by Mad. de Lorgeville's last
+words!
+
+In a few minutes I was bowing with a moderate degree of respect before
+Mlle. de Chantverdun, and making her such adroit excuses that she was
+enchanted with me. Happiness had restored my presence of mind--my
+deferential manner and apologies delighted the poor old-young lady. I
+made her believe that this mistake was entirely owing to a similarity of
+names, and that the age of Mile. de Chantverdun was an additional point
+of resemblance.
+
+This distinction was difficult to manage in its exquisite delicacy; my
+skilfulness won the approbation of Mad. de Lorgeville.
+
+We passed a charming afternoon. I had recovered my gayety that trouble
+had almost destroyed, and enjoyed myself so much that sunset found me
+still at the chateau. Dear Edgar, this time I am not mistaken in my
+conjectures. Mile, de Chateaudun is imposing a trying ordeal upon me--I
+am more convinced of it than ever; it is the expiation before entering
+Paradise. Hasten your love affairs and prepare for marriage--we will
+have a double wedding, and we can introduce our wives on the same day.
+This would be the crowning of my dearest hopes--a fitting seal to our
+life-long friendship!
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 6th 18--.
+
+It is he! Valentine, it is he! I at once recognised him, and he
+recognised me! And our future lives were given to each other in one of
+those looks that decide a life. What a day! how agitated I still am! My
+hand trembles, my heart beats so violently that I can scarcely write....
+It is one o'clock; I did not close my eyes last night and I cannot sleep
+to-night. I am so excited, my mind so foolishly disturbed, that sleep is
+a state I no longer comprehend; I feel as if I could never sleep again.
+Many hours will have to pass before I can extinguish this fire that
+burns my eyes, stop this whirl of thoughts rushing through my brain; to
+sleep, I must forget, and never, never can I forget his name, his voice,
+his face! My dear Valentine, how I wished for you to-day! How proud I
+would have been to prove to you the realization of all my dreams and
+presentiments!
+
+Ah! I knew I was right; such implicit faith could not be an error; I was
+convinced that there existed on earth a being created for me, who would
+some day possess and govern my heart! A being who had always possessed
+my love, who sought me, and called upon me to respond to his love; and
+that we would end by meeting and loving in spite of all obstacles. Yes,
+often I felt myself called by some superior power. My soul would leave
+me and travel far away in response to some mysterious command. Where did
+it go? Then I was ignorant, now I know--it went to Italy, in answer to
+the gentle voice, to the behest of Raymond! I was laughed at for what
+was called my romantic idea, and I tried to ridicule it myself. I fought
+against this fantasy. Alas! I fought so valiantly against it that it was
+almost destroyed. Oh! I shudder when I think of it.... A few moments
+more ... and I would have been irrevocably engaged; I would no longer
+have been worthy of this love for which I had kept myself
+irreproachable, in spite of all the temptations of misery, all the
+dangers of isolation, and the long-hoped-for day of blissful meeting,
+would have been the day of eternal farewell! This averted misfortune
+frightened me as if it were still menacing. Poor Roger! I heartily
+pardon him now; more than that, I thank him for having so quickly
+disenchanted me.
+
+Edgar!... Edgar!... I hate him when I remember that I tried to love him;
+but no, no, there never was anything like love between us! Heavens! what
+a difference!... And yet the one of whom I speak with such enthusiasm
+... I saw yesterday for the first time ... I know him not ... I know him
+not ... and yet I love him!... Valentine, what will you think of me?
+
+This most important day of my life opened in the ordinary way; nothing
+foreshadowed the great event that was to decide my fate, that was to
+throw so much light upon the dark doubts of my poor heart. This
+brilliant sun suddenly burst upon me unheralded by any precursory ray.
+
+Some new guests were expected; a relative of Madame de Meilhan, and a
+friend of Edgar, whom they call Don Quixote. This struck me as being a
+peculiar nickname, but I did not ask its origin. Like all persons of
+imagination, I have no curiosity; I at once find a reason for
+everything; I prefer imagining to asking the wherefore of things; I
+prefer suppositions to information. Therefore I did not inquire why this
+friend was honored with the name of Don Quixote. I explained it to
+myself in this wise: A tall, thin young man, resembling the Chevalier de
+la Mancha, and who perhaps had dressed himself like Don Quixote at the
+carnival, and the name of his disguise had clung to him ever since; I
+fancied a silly, awkward youth, with an ugly yellow face, a sort of
+solemn jumping-jack, and I confess to no desire to make his
+acquaintance. He disturbed me in one respect, but I was quickly
+reassured. I am always afraid of being recognised by visitors at the
+chateau, and have to exercise a great deal of ingenuity to find out if
+we have ever met. Before appearing before them, I inquire if they are
+fashionable people, spent last winter in Paris, &c.? I am told Don
+Quixote is almost a savage; he travels all the time so as to sustain his
+character as knight-errant, and that he spent last winter in Rome....
+This quieted my fears ... I did not appear in society until last winter,
+so Don Quixote never saw me; knowing we could meet without the
+possibility of recognition, I dismissed him from my mind.
+
+Yesterday, at three o'clock, Madame de Meilhan and her son went to the
+depot to meet their guests. I was standing at the front door when they
+drove off, and Madame de Meilhan called out to me: "My dear Madame
+Guerin, I recommend my bouquets to you; pray spare me the eternal
+_soucis_ with which the cruel Etienne insists upon filling my rooms; now
+I rely upon you for relief."
+
+I smiled at this pun as if I had never heard it before, and promised to
+superintend the arrangement of the flowers. I went into the garden and
+found Etienne gathering _soucis_, more _soucis_, nothing but _soucis_. I
+glanced at his flower-beds, and at once understood the cause of his
+predilection for this dreadful flower; it was the only kind that deigned
+to bloom in his melancholy garden: This is the secret of many
+inexplicable preferences.
+
+I thought with horror that Madame de Meilhan would continue to be a prey
+to _soucis_ if I did not come to her rescue, so I said: "Etienne, what a
+pity to cull them all! they are so effective in a garden; let us go look
+for some other flowers--it is a shame to ruin your beautiful beds!" The
+flattered Stephen eagerly followed me to a corner of the garden where I
+had admired some superb catalpas. He gathered branches of them, with
+which I filled the Japanese vases on the mantel, and ornamented the
+corners of the parlor, thus converting it into a flowery grove. I also
+arranged some Bengal roses and dahlias that had escaped Etienne's
+culture, and with the addition of some asters and a very few _soucis_ I
+must confess, I was charmed with the result of my labors. But I wanted
+some delicate flowers for the pretty vase on the centre table, and
+remembering that an old florist, a friend of Madame Taverneau and one
+of my professed admirers, lived about a mile from the chateau, I
+determined to walk over and describe to him the dreadful condition of
+Madame de Meilhan, and appeal to him for assistance. Fortunately I found
+him in his green-house, and delighted him by repeating the pun about
+filling the house with _soucis_. Provincials have a singular taste for
+puns; I never make them, and only repeat them because I love to please.
+The old man was fascinated, and rewarded my flattery by making me up a
+magnificent bouquet of rare, unknown, nameless, exquisite flowers that
+could be found nowhere else; my bouquet was worth a fortune, and what
+fortune ever exhaled such perfume? I started off triumphant. I tell you
+all this to show how calm and little inclined I was to romance on that
+morning.
+
+I walked rapidly, for we can hardly help running when in an open field
+and pursued by the arrows of the sun; we run till we are breathless, to
+find shelter beneath some friendly tree.
+
+I had crossed a large field that separates the property of the florist
+from Madame de Meilhan's, and entered the park by a little gate; a few
+steps off a fountain rippled among the rocks--a basin surrounded by
+shells received its waters. This basin had originally been pretentiously
+ornamented, but time and vegetation had greatly improved these efforts
+of bad taste. The roots of a grand weeping willow had pitilessly
+unmasked the imposture of these artificial rocks, that is, they have
+destroyed their skilful masonry; these rocks, built at great expense on
+the shore, have gradually fallen into the very middle of the water,
+where they have become naturalized; some serve as vases to clusters of
+beautiful iris, others serve as resting-places for the tame deer that
+run about the park and drink at the stream; aquatic plants, reeds and
+entwined convolvulus have invaded the rest; all the pretentious work of
+the artist is now concealed; which proves the vanity of the proud
+efforts of man. God permits his creatures to cultivate ugliness in their
+cities only; in his own beautiful fields he quickly destroys their
+miserable attempts. Vainly, under pretext of a fountain, do they heap up
+in the woods and valleys masonry upon masonry, rocks upon rocks; vainly
+do they lavish money upon their gingerbread work about the limpid
+brooks; the water-nymph smilingly watches their labor, and then in her
+capricious play amuses herself by changing their hideous productions
+into charming structures; their den of a farmer-general into a poet's
+nest; and to effect this miracle only three things are necessary--three
+things that cost nothing, and which we daily trample under
+foot--flowers, grass and pebbles.... Valentine, I know I have been
+talking too long about this little lake, but I have an excuse: I love it
+much! You shall soon know why....
+
+I heard the purling of the water, and could not resist the seductive
+freshness of its voice; I leaned over the rocks of the fountain, took
+off my glove and caught in the hollow of my hand the sparkling water
+that fell from the cascade, and eagerly drank it. As I was intoxicating
+myself with this innocent beverage, I heard a footstep on the path; I
+continued to drink without disturbing myself, until the following words
+made me raise my head:
+
+"Excuse me, _mademoiselle_, but can you direct me where to find Mad. de
+Meilhan?"
+
+He called me _Mademoiselle_, so I must be recognised; the idea made me
+turn pale; I looked with alarm at the young man who uttered these words,
+I had never seen him before, but he might have seen me and would betray
+me. I was so disconcerted that I dropped half of my flowers in the
+water; the current was rapidly whirling them off among the crevices of
+the rocks, when he jumped lightly from stone to stone, and rescuing the
+fugitive flowers, laid them all carefully by the others on the side of
+the fountain, bowed respectfully and retraced his steps down the walk
+without renewing his unanswered question. I was, without knowing why,
+completely reassured; there was in his look such high-toned loyalty, in
+his manner such perfect distinction, and a sort of precaution so
+delicately mysterious, that I felt confidence in him. I thought, even if
+he does know my name it will make no difference--for he would never
+mention having met me--my secret is safe with a man of his character!
+You need not laugh at me for prematurely deciding upon his
+character,... for my surmises proved correct!
+
+The dinner hour was drawing near, and I hurried back to the chateau to
+dress. I was compelled, in spite of myself, to look attractive, on
+account of having to put on a lovely dress that the treacherous
+Blanchard had spread out on the bed with the determination that I should
+wear it; protesting that it was a blessed thing she had brought this
+one, as there was not another one fit for me to appear in before Mad. de
+Meilhan's guests. It was an India muslin trimmed with twelve little
+flounces edged with exquisite Valenciennes lace; the waist was made of
+alternate tucks and insertion, and trimmed with lace to match the skirt.
+This dress was unsuitable to the humble Madame Guerin--it would be
+imprudent to appear in it. How indignant and angry I was with poor
+Blanchard! I scolded her all the time she was assisting me to put it on!
+Oh! since then how sincerely have I forgiven her! She had brought me a
+fashionable sash to wear with the dress, but I resisted the temptation,
+and casting aside the elegant ribbon, I put on an old lilac belt and
+descended to the parlor where the company were assembled.
+
+The first person I saw, on entering the room, was the young man I had
+met by the fountain. His presence disconcerted me. Mad. de Meilhan
+relieved my embarrassment by saying: "Ah! here you are! we were just
+speaking of you. I wish to introduce to you my dear Don Quixote," I
+turned my head towards the other end of the room where Edgar was talking
+to several persons, thinking that Don Quixote was one of the number; but
+Mad. de Meilhan introduced the young man of the fountain, calling him M.
+de Villiers: he was Don Quixote.
+
+He addressed some polite speech to me, but this time he called me
+madame, and in uttering this word there was a tone of sadness that
+deeply touched me, and the earnest look with which he regarded me I can
+never forget--it seemed to say, I know your history, I know you are
+unhappy, I know this unhappiness is unjustly inflicted upon you, and you
+arouse my tenderest sympathy. I assure you, my dear Valentine, that his
+look expressed all this, and much more that I refrain from telling you,
+because I know you will laugh at me.
+
+Madame de Meilhan having joined us, he went over to Edgar.
+
+"What do you think of her?" asked Edgar, who did not know that I was
+listening.
+
+"Very beautiful."
+
+"She is a companion, engaged by my mother to stay here until I marry."
+
+The hidden meaning of this jesting speech seemed to disgust M. de
+Villiers; he cast upon his friend a severe and scornful look that
+clearly said: You conceited puppy! I think, but am not certain, this
+look also signified: Would-be Lovelace! Provincial Don Juan, &c.
+
+At dinner I was placed opposite him, and all during the meal I was
+wondering why this handsome, elegant, distinguished-looking young man
+should be nicknamed Don Quixote. Thoughtful observation solved the
+enigma. Don Quixote was ridiculed for two things: being very ugly and
+being too generous. And I confess I felt myself immediately fascinated
+by his captivating characteristics.
+
+After dinner we were on the terrace, when he approached me and said with
+a smile:
+
+"I am distressed, madame, to think that without knowing you, I must have
+made a disagreeable impression."
+
+"I confess that you startled me."
+
+"How pale you turned!... perhaps you were expecting some one!" ... He
+asked this question with a troubled look and such charming anxiety that
+I answered quickly--too quickly, perhaps:
+
+"No, monsieur, I did not expect any one."
+
+"You saw me coming up the walk?"
+
+"Yes, I saw you coming."
+
+"But was there any reason why I should have caused you this sudden
+fright!... some resemblance, perhaps?--no?--It is strange ... I am
+puzzled."
+
+"And I am also very much puzzled, monsieur."
+
+"About me!... What happiness!"
+
+"I wish to know why you are called Don Quixote?"
+
+"Ah! you embarrass me by asking for my great secret, Madame, but I will
+confide it to you, since you are kind enough to be interested in me. I
+am called Don Quixote because I am a kind of a fool, an original, an
+enthusiastic admirer of all noble and holy things, a dreamer of noble
+deeds, a defender of the oppressed, a slayer of egotists; because I
+believe in all religions, even the religion of love. I think that a man
+ought to respect himself out of respect to the woman who loves him; that
+he should constantly think of her with devotion, avoid doing anything
+that could displease her, and be always, even in her absence, courteous,
+pleasing, amiable, I would even say _loveable_, if the word were
+admissible; a man who is beloved is, according to my ridiculous ideas, a
+sort of dignitary; he should thenceforth behave as if he were an idol,
+and deify himself as much as possible. I also have my patriotic
+religion; I love my country like an old member of the National Guard....
+My friends say I am a real Vaudeville Frenchman. I reply that it is
+better to be a real Vaudeville Frenchman than an imitation of English
+jockeys, as they are; they call me knight-errant because I reprove them
+for speaking coarsely of women. I advise them to keep silent and conceal
+their misdeeds. I tell them that their boasted preferences only prove
+their blindness and bad taste; that I am more fortunate than they; all
+the women of my acquaintance are good and perfect, and my greatest
+desire in life is to be worthy of their friendship. I am called Don
+Quixote because I love glory and all those who have the ambition to seek
+it; because in my eyes there is nothing true but the hopeful future, as
+we are deceived at every step we take in the present. Because I
+understand inexplicable disinterestedness, generous folly; because I can
+understand how one can live for an idea and die for a word; I can
+sympathize with all who struggle and suffer for a cherished belief;
+because I have the courage to turn my back upon those whom I despise and
+am eccentric enough to always speak the truth; I assert that nobody is
+worth the hypocrisy of a falsehood; because I am an incorrigible,
+systematic, insatiable dupe; I prefer going astray, making a mistake by
+doing a good deed, rather than being always distrustful and suspicious;
+while I see evil I believe in good; doubtless the evil predominates and
+daily increases, but then it is cultivated, and if the same cultivation
+were bestowed upon the good perfection would be attained. Finally,
+madame, and this is my supreme folly, I believe in happiness and seek it
+with credulous hope; I believe that the purest joys are those which are
+most dearly bought; but I am ready for any sacrifice, and would
+willingly give my life for an hour of this sublime joy that I have so
+long dreamed of and still hope to possess.... Now you know why I am
+called Don Quixote. To be a knight-errant in the present day is rather
+difficult; a certain amount of courage is necessary to dare to say to
+unbelievers: I believe; to egotists, I love; to materialists, I dream;
+it requires more than courage, it requires audacity and insolence. Yes,
+one must commence by appearing aggressive in order to have the right to
+appear generous. If I were merely loyal and charitable, my opinions
+would not be supported; instead of being called _Don Quixote_, I would
+be called _Grandison_ ... and I would be a ruined man! Thus I hasten to
+polish my armor and attack the insolent with insolence, the scoffers
+with scoffing; I defend my enthusiasm with irony; like the eagle, I let
+my claws grow in order to defend my wings." ... Here he stopped....
+"Heavens!" he exclaimed, "how could I compare myself to an eagle; I beg
+your pardon, madame, for this presumptuous comparison.... You see to
+what flights your indulgence leads me" ... and he laughed at his own
+enthusiasm, ... but I did not laugh, my feelings were too deeply
+stirred.
+
+Valentine, what I repeat to you is very different from his way of saying
+it. What eloquence in his noble words, his tones of voice, his sparkling
+eyes! His generous sentiments, so long restrained, were poured forth
+with fire; he was happy at finding himself at last understood, at being
+able for once in his life to see appreciated the divine treasures of
+his heart, to be able to impart all his pet ideas without seeing them
+jeered at and their name insulted! Sympathy inspired him with confidence
+in me. With delight I recognised myself in his own description. I saw
+with pride, in his profound convictions, his strong and holy truths, the
+poetical beliefs of my youth, that have always been treated by every one
+else as fictions, and foolish illusions; he carried me back to the happy
+days of my early life, by repeating to me, like an echo of the past,
+those noble words that are no longer heard in the present--those noble
+precepts--those beautiful refrains of chivalry in which my infancy was
+cradled.... As I listened I said to myself: how my mother would have
+loved him! and this thought made my eyes fill with tears. Ah! never,
+never did such an idea cross my mind when I was with Edgar, or near
+Roger.... Now you must acknowledge, my dear Valentine, that I am right
+when I say that: It is he! It is he!
+
+We had been absorbed an hour in these confidential reveries, forgetting
+the persons around us, the place we were in, who we were ourselves, and
+the whole world!
+
+The universe had disappeared, leaving us only the delicate perfume of
+the orange blossoms around us, and the soft light of the stars peeping
+forth from the sky above us.
+
+We returned to the parlor and I was seated near the centre-table, when
+Edgar came up to me and said:
+
+"What is the matter with you this evening? You seem depressed; are you
+not well?"
+
+"I have a slight cold."
+
+"What a tiresome general--he continued--he monopolizes all my evening,
+... a tiresome hero is _so_ hard to entertain!"
+
+I forgot to tell you we had a general to dinner.
+
+"Raymond, come here ... it is your turn to keep the warrior awake." ...
+M. de Villiers approached the table and began to examine the bouquet I
+had brought. "Ah! I recognise these flowers!" he looked at me and I
+blushed. "I do too," said Edgar, without taking in the true sense of the
+words, and he pointed to the prettiest flowers in the bouquet, and
+said: "these are the flowers of the _pelargonium diadematum coccineum_."
+I exclaimed at the dreadful name. M. de Villiers repeated: "_Pelargonium
+diadematum coccineum_!" in an undertone, with a most fascinating smile,
+and said: "Oh! I did not mean that!" ... I could not help looking at him
+and smiling in complicity; now why should Edgar be so learned?
+
+I suppose you think it very childish to write you these particulars, but
+the most trifling details of this day are precious to me, and I must
+confide them to some one. Towards midnight we separated, and I rejoiced
+at being alone with my happiness. The emotion I felt was so lively that
+I hastened to carry it far away from everybody, even from him, its
+author. I wished for solitude that I might ask myself what had caused
+this agitation--nothing of importance had occurred this day, no word of
+engagement for the future had been made, and yet my whole life wore a
+different aspect ... my usually calm heart was throbbing violently--my
+mind always so uneasy was settled; who had thus changed my fate?... A
+stranger ... and what had he done to merit this sudden preference? He
+had picked up some flowers ... But this stranger wore on his brow the
+aureola of the dreamed-of ideal, his musical voice had the imperative
+accent of a master, and from the first moment he looked at me, there
+existed between us that mysterious affinity of fraternal instincts, that
+spontaneous alliance of two hearts suddenly mated, unfailing gratitude,
+irresistible sympathy, mutual echo, reciprocal exchange, quick
+appreciation, ardent and sublime harmony, that creates in one
+moment--the poets are right--that creates in one moment eternal love!
+
+To restore my tranquillity, I sat down to write to you, but had not the
+courage to put my thoughts on paper, and I remained there all night,
+trembling and meditative, oppressed by this powerful emotion; I did not
+think, I did not pray, I did not live; I loved, and absorbed in loving,
+taking no note of time, I sat there till daybreak; at five o'clock I
+heard a noise of rakes and scythes in the garden, and wishing to cool
+my hot eyes with a breath of fresh air, I descended to the terrace.
+
+Everybody was asleep in the chateau and all the blinds closed, but I
+opened the glass door leading into the garden, and after walking up and
+down the gravel-path, crossed the bridge over the brook, and went by way
+of the little thicket where I had rested yesterday; I was led by some
+magnetic attraction to the covered spring; I did not go up the
+poplar-walk, but took a little by-path seldom used by any one, and
+almost covered with grass; I reached the spring, and suddenly ... before
+me ... I saw him ... Valentine!... he was there alone, ... sitting on
+the bench by the fountain, with his beautiful eyes fastened on the spot
+where he had seen me the day before! And oh, the sad wistfulness of his
+look went straight to my heart! I stood still, happy, yet frightened; I
+wished to flee; I felt that my presence was a confession, a proof of his
+empire; I was right when I said he called me and I obeyed the call!...
+He looked up and saw me, ... and oh, how pale he turned,... he seemed
+more alarmed than I had been the day previous! His agitation restored my
+calmness; it convinced me that during these hours of separation our
+thoughts had been the same, and that our love was mutual. He arose and
+approached me, saying:--
+
+"This is your favorite place, madame, and I will not intrude any longer,
+but before I go you can reward this great sacrifice by a single word:
+confess frankly that you are not astonished at finding me here?" I was
+silent, but my blushes answered for me. As he stood there looking at me
+I heard a noise near us; it was only a deer coming to drink at the
+spring; but I trembled so violently that M. de Villiers saw by my alarm
+that it would distress me to be found alone with him; he was moving
+away, when I made a sign for him to remain, which meant: Stay, and
+continue to think of me.... I then quickly returned to the chateau. I
+have seen him since; we passed the day together, with Madame de Meilhan
+and her son, playing on the piano, or entertaining the country
+neighbors, but under it all enjoying the same fascinating
+preoccupation, an under-current of bliss, a secret intoxication. Edgar
+is uneasy and Madame de Meilhan is contented; the serious love of her
+son alarmed her; she sees with pleasure an increasing rivalry that may
+destroy it. I know not what is about to happen, but I dread anything
+unpleasant occurring to interrupt my sweet contentment; any
+explanations, humiliations, adieux, departures--a thousand
+annoyances,... but it matters not, I am happy, I am in love, and I know
+there is nothing so satisfying, so sweet as being in love!
+
+This time I say nothing of yourself, my dear Valentine, of yourself, nor
+of our old friendship, but is not each word of this letter a proof of
+tender devotion? I confide to you every thought and emotion of my
+heart--so foolish that one would dare not confess them to a mother. Is
+not this the same as saying to you: You are the beloved sister of my
+choice?
+
+Give my dear little goddaughter Irene a kiss for me. Oh, I am so glad
+she is growing prettier every day!
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+Richeport, Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+Paris, July 8th 18--.
+
+Dear Edgar,--Stupidity was invented by our sex. When a woman deceives or
+deserts us,--synonymous transgressions,--we are foolish enough to
+prolong to infinity our despair, instead of singing with Metastasio--
+
+  "Grazie all' inganni tuoi
+  Al fin respir' o Nice!"
+
+Alas! such is man! Women have more pride. If I had deserted Mlle. de
+Chateaudun she certainly would not have searched the highways and byways
+to discover me. I fear there is a great deal of vanity at the bottom of
+our manly passions. Vanity is the eldest son of love. I shall develop
+this theory upon some future occasion. One must be calm when one
+philosophizes. At present I am obliged to continue in my folly, begging
+reason to await my return.
+
+In the intense darkness of despair, one naturally rushes towards the
+horizon where shines some bright object, be it lighthouse, star,
+phosphorus or jack-o'-lantern. Will it prove a safe haven or a dangerous
+rock? Fate,--Chance,--to thee we trust!
+
+My faithful agents are ever watchful. I have just received their
+despatches, and they inspire me with the hope that at last the thick
+mist is about to be dispersed. I will spare you all the minute details
+written by faithful servants, who have more sagacity than epistolary
+style, and give you a synopsis:--Mlle. de Chateaudun left for Rouen a
+month ago. She engaged two seats in the car. She was seen at the
+depot--her maid was with her. There is no longer any doubt--Irene is at
+Rouen; I have proofs of it in my hand.
+
+An old family servant, devoted to me, is living at Rouen. I will make
+his house the centre of my observations, and will not compromise the
+result by any negligence or recklessness on part.
+
+The inexorable logic of victorious combinations will be revealed to me
+on the first night of my solitude. I am about to start; address me no
+longer at Paris. Railways were invented for the benefit of love affairs.
+A lover laid the first rail, and a speculator laid the last. Happily
+Rouen is a faubourg of Paris! This advantage of rapid locomotion will
+permit me to pass two hours at Richeport with you, and have the delight
+of pressing Raymond's hand. Two hours of my life gained by losing them
+with my oldest and best friend. I will be overjoyed to once more see the
+noble Raymond, the last of knight-errants, doubtless occupied in
+painting in stone-color some old manor where Queen Blanche has left
+traditions of the course of true love.
+
+How dreadful it is, dear Edgar, to endeavor to unravel a mystery when a
+woman is at the bottom of it! Yes, Irene is at Rouen, I am convinced of
+that fact. Rouen is a large city, full of large houses, small houses,
+hotels and churches; but love is a grand inquisitor, capable of
+searching the city in twenty-four hours, and making the receiver of
+stolen property surrender Mlle. de Chateaudun. Then what will happen?
+Have I the right to institute a scheme of this strange nature about a
+young woman? Is she alone at Rouen? And if misfortune does not mislead
+me by these certain traces, is there anything in reserve for me worse
+than losing her?
+
+Oh! if such be the case, then is the time to pray God for strength to
+repeat the other two verses of the poet:--
+
+  "Col mio rival istesso,
+  Posso di te parlar!"
+
+Farewell, for a short time, dear Edgar. I fly to fathom this mystery.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 6th, 18--.
+
+MADAME: Need I tell you that I left your house profoundly touched by
+your goodness, and bearing away in my heart one of the most precious
+memories that shall survive my youth? What can I tell you that you have
+not already learnt from my distress and emotion at the hour of parting?
+Tears came to my eyes as I pressed M. de Braimes's hand, that loyal hand
+which had so often pressed my father's, and when I turned back to get
+one last look at you, surrounded by your beautiful children, who waved
+me a final adieu, I felt as if I had left behind me the better part of
+myself; for a moment I reproached you for having cured me so quickly. My
+friends have nicknamed me Don Quixote, I do not exactly know why; but
+this I do know, that with the prospect of a reward like unto that which
+you have offered me, any one would accept the office of redresser of
+wrongs and slayer of giants, even at the risk of having to jump into the
+fire occasionally to save a Lady Penock.
+
+More generous than the angels, you have awarded me, on earth, the palm
+which is reserved for martyrs in heaven. You appeared before me like one
+of those benevolent fairies which exorcise evil genii. 'Tis true that
+you do not wear the magic ring, but your wit alleviates suffering and
+proclaims a truce to pain. Till now I have laughed at the stoics who
+declare that suffering is not an evil; seated at my pillow, one smile
+from you converted me to their belief. Hitherto I have believed that
+patience and resignation were virtues beyond my strength and courage;
+without an effort, you have taught me that patience is sweet and
+resignation easy to attain. I have been persuaded that health is the
+greatest boon given to man: you have proved its fallacy. And M. de
+Braimes has shown himself your faithful accomplice, not to speak of your
+dear little ones, who, for a month past, have converted my room into a
+flower-garden and a bird-cage, where they were the sweetest flowers and
+the gayest birds. Finally, as if my life, restored by your tender care,
+was not enough, you have added to it the priceless jewel of your
+friendship. A thousand thanks and blessings! With you happiness entered
+into my destiny. You were the dawn announcing a glorious sunrise, the
+prelude to the melodies which, since yesterday, swell in my bosom. If I
+take pleasure in recognising your gentle influence in the secret delight
+that pervades my being, do not deprive me of the illusion. I believe,
+with my mother, in mysterious influences. I believe that, as there are
+miserable beings who, unwittingly, drag misfortune after them and sow it
+over their pathway, there are others, on the other hand, who, marked by
+the finger of God, bear happiness to all whom they meet. Happy the
+wanderer who, like me, sees one of those privileged beings cross his
+path! Their presence, alone, brings down blessings from heaven and the
+earth blossoms under their footsteps.
+
+And really, madame, you do possess the faculty of dissipating fatal
+enchantments. Like the morning star, which disperses the mighty
+gatherings of goblins and gnomes, you have shone upon my horizon and
+Lady Penock has vanished like a shadow. Thanks to you, I crossed France
+with impunity from the borders of Isere to the borders of the Creuse,
+and then to the banks of the Seine, without encountering the implacable
+islander who pursued me from the fields of Latium to the foot of the
+Grande Chartreuse. I must not forget to state that at Voreppe, where I
+stopped to change horses, the keeper of the ruined inn, recognising my
+carriage, politely presented me with a bill for damages; so much for a
+broken glass, so much for a door beaten in, so much for a shattered
+ladder. I commend to M. de Braimes this brilliant stroke of one of his
+constituents; it is an incident forgotten by Cervantes in the history of
+his hero.
+
+In spite of my character of knight-errant, I reached my dear mountains
+without any other adventure. I had not visited them for three years, and
+the sight of their rugged tops rejoiced my heart. You would like the
+country; it is poor, but poetic. You would enjoy its green solitudes,
+its uncultivated fields, its silent valleys and little lakes enshrined
+like sheets of crystal in borders of sage and heather. Its chief charm
+to me is its obscurity; no curiosity-hunter or ordinary tourist has ever
+frightened away the dryads from its chestnut groves or the naiads from
+its fresh streams. Even a flitting poet has scarcely ever betrayed its
+rural mysteries. My chateau has none of the grandeur that you have,
+perhaps, ascribed to it. Picture to yourself a pretty country-house,
+lightly set on a hill-top, and pensively overlooking the Creuse flowing
+at its feet under an arbor of alder-bushes and flowering ash. Such as it
+is, imbedded in woods which shelter it from the northern blasts and
+protect it from the heats of the summer solstice; there--if the hope
+that inspires me is not an illusion of my bewildered brain; if the light
+that dazzles me is not a chance spark from chimerical fires, there,
+among the scenes where I first saw the light, I would hide my happiness.
+You see, madame, that my hand trembles as I write. One evening you and I
+were walking together, under the trees in your garden; your children
+played about us like young kids upon the green sward. As we walked we
+talked, and insensibly began to speak of that vague need of loving which
+torments our youth. You said that love was a grave undertaking, and that
+often our whole life depended upon our first choice. I spoke of my
+aspirations towards those unknown delights, which haunted me with their
+seductive visions as Columbus was haunted by visions of a new world.
+Gravely and pensively you listened to me, and when I began to trace the
+image of the oft-dreamed-of woman, so vainly sought for in the
+ungrateful domain of reality, I remember that you smiled as you said:
+"Do not despair, she exists; you will meet her some day." Were you
+speaking earnestly then? Is it she? Keep still, do not even breathe, she
+might fly away.
+
+After a few days spent in revisiting the scenes of my childhood, and
+breathing afresh the sweet perfumes still hovering around infancy's
+cradle, I left for Paris, where I scarcely rested The manner in which I
+employed the few hours passed in that hot city would doubtless surprise
+you, madame. My carriage rolled rapidly through the wealthy portion of
+the city, and following my directions was soon lost in the gloomy
+solitude of the Marais.
+
+I alighted in the wilderness of a deserted street before a melancholy
+and dejected-looking house, and as I raised the heavy latch of the
+massive door, my heart beat as if I were about to meet, after a long
+absence, an aged mother who wept for my return, or a much-loved sister.
+I took a key from its nail in the porter's lodge and began to climb the
+stair, which, viewed from below, looked more picturesque than inviting,
+particularly when one proposed to ascend to the very top. Fortunately, I
+am a mountaineer; I bounded up that wide ladder with as light a step as
+if it had been a marble stairway, with richly wrought balustrade. At the
+end of the ascent I hurriedly opened a door, and, perfectly at home,
+entered a small room. I paused motionless upon the threshold, and
+glanced feelingly around. The room contained nothing but a table covered
+with books and dust, a stiff oak arm-chair, a hard and
+uninviting-looking lounge, and on the mantel-piece, in two earthen
+vases, designed by Ziegler, the only ornaments of this poor retreat, a
+few dry, withered asters. No one expected me, I expected no one. There I
+remained until evening, waiting for nightfall, thinking the sun would
+never set and the day never end. Finally, as the night deepened, I
+leaned on the sill of the only window, and with an emotion I cannot
+describe, watched the stars peep forth one by one. I would have given
+them all for a sight of the one star which will never shine again. Shall
+I tell you about it, madame, and would you comprehend me? You know
+nothing of my life; you do not know that, during two years, I lived in
+that garret, poor, unknown, with no other friend than labor, no other
+companion than the little light which appeared and disappeared regularly
+every evening through the branches of a Canada pine. I did not know
+then, neither do I know now, who watched by that pale gleam, but I felt
+for it a nameless affection, a mysterious tenderness. On leaving my
+retreat, I sent it, through the trees, a long farewell, and the not
+seeing it on my return distressed me as the loss of a brother. What has
+become of you, little shining beacon, who illumined the gloom of my
+studious nights? Did a storm extinguish you? or has God, whom I invoked
+for you, granted my prayer, and do you shine with a less troubled ray in
+happier climes? It is a long story; and I know a fresher and a more
+charming one, which I will speedily tell you.
+
+I took the train the next day (that was yesterday) for Richeport, where
+M. de Meilhan had invited me to meet him. You know M. de Meilhan without
+ever having seen him. You are familiar with his verses and you like
+them. I profess to love the man as much as his talents. Our friendship
+is of long standing; I assisted at the first lispings of his muse; I saw
+his young glory grow and expand; I predicted from the first the place
+that he now holds in the poetic pleiad, the honor of a great nation. To
+hear him you would say that he was a pitiless scoffer; to study him you
+would soon find, under this surface of rancorless irony, more candor and
+simplicity than he is himself aware of, and which few people possess who
+boast of their faith and belief. He has the mind of a sceptic and the
+believing soul of a neophyte.
+
+In less than three hours I reached Pont de l'Arche. Railroads have been
+much abused; it is charitable to presume that those honest people who do
+so have no relatives, friends nor sweethearts away from them. M. de
+Meilhan and his mother were waiting for me at the depot; the first
+delights of meeting over--for you must remember that I have not seen my
+poet for three years--I leave you to imagine the peals of laughter that
+greeted the mention of Lady Penock's formidable name. Edgar, who knew of
+my adventure and was excited by the joy of seeing me again, amused
+himself by startling the echoes with loud and repeated "Shockings!" We
+drove along in an open carriage, laughing, talking, pressing each
+other's hands, asking question upon question, while Madame de Meilhan,
+after having shared our gayety, seemed to watch with interest the
+exhibition of our mutual delight. This scene had the most beautiful
+surroundings in the world; an exquisite country, which in order to be
+fully appreciated, visited, described, sung of in prose and verse,
+should be fifteen hundred miles from France.
+
+My mind is naturally gay, my heart sad. When I laugh, something within
+me suffers and repines; it is by no means rare for me to pass suddenly
+and without transition from the wildest gayety to the profoundest
+sadness and melancholy. On our arrival at Richeport we found several
+visitors at the chateaux, among the number a general, solemnly resigned
+to the pleasures of a day in the country. To escape this illustrious
+warrior, who was engaged upon the battle of Friedland, Edgar made off
+between two cavalry charges and carried me into the park, where we were
+soon joined by Madame de Meilhan and her guest, the terrible general at
+the head.
+
+Interrupted for a moment by the skilful retreat of the young poet, the
+battle of Friedland began again with redoubled fury. The paths of the
+park are narrow; the warrior marched in front with Edgar, who wiped the
+drops from his brow and exhausted himself in vain efforts to release his
+arm from an iron grasp; Madame de Meilhan and those who accompanied her
+represented the corps d'armee; I formed the rear guard; balls whistled
+by, battalions struggled, we heard the cries of the wounded and were
+stifled by the smell of powder; wishing to avoid the harrowing sight of
+such dreadful carnage, I slackened my pace and was agreeably surprised
+to find, at a turn in the path, that I had deserted my colors; I
+listened and heard only the song of the bulfinch; I took a long breath
+and breathed only the odor of the woods; I looked above the birches and
+aspens for a cloud of smoke which would put me upon the track of the
+combatants; I saw only the blue sky smiling through the trees; I was
+alone; by one of those reactions of which I spoke, I sank insensibly
+into a deep revery.
+
+It was intensely hot; I threw myself upon the grass, under the shadow of
+a thick hedge, and there lay listening to nature's faint whispers, and
+the beating of my own heart. The joy that I had just felt in meeting
+Edgar again, made the void in my heart, which friendship can never fill,
+all the more painful; my senses, subdued by the heat, chanted in endless
+elegies the serious and soothing conversation that we had had one
+evening under your lindens. Whether I had a presentiment of some
+approaching change in my destiny, or whether I was simply overcome by
+the heat, I know not, but I was restless; my restlessness seemed to
+anticipate some indefinite happiness, and from afar the wind bore to me
+in warm puffs the cheering refrain: "She exists, she exists, you will
+find her!"
+
+I at last remembered that I had only been Madame de Meilhan's guest a
+few hours, and that my abrupt disappearance must appear, to say the
+least, strange to her. On the other hand, Edgar, whom I had
+treacherously abandoned in the greatest danger, would have serious
+grounds of complaint against me. I arose, and driving away the winged
+dreams that hovered around me, like a swarm of bees round a hive,
+prepared to join my corps, with the cowardly hope that when I arrived,
+the engagement might be over and the victory won. Unfortunately, or
+rather fortunately, I was unacquainted with the windings of the park,
+and wandered at random through its verdant labyrinths, the sun pouring
+down upon my devoted head until I heard the silvery murmur of a
+neighboring stream, babbling over its pebbly bed. Attracted by the
+freshness of the spot, I approached and in the midst of a confusion of
+iris, mint and bindweed, I saw a blonde head quenching its thirst at the
+stream. I could only see a mass of yellow hair wound in heavy golden
+coils around this head, and a little hand catching the water like an
+opal cup, which it afterwards raised to two lips as fresh as the crystal
+stream which they quaffed. Her face and figure being entirely concealed
+by the aquatic plants which grew around the spring, I took her for a
+child, a girl of twelve or more, the daughter perhaps of one of the
+persons whom I had left upon the battle-field of Friedland. I advanced a
+few steps nearer, and in my softest voice, for I was afraid of
+frightening her, said: "Mademoiselle, can you tell me if Madame de
+Meilhan is near here?" At these words I saw a young and beautiful
+creature, tall, slender, erect, lift herself like a lily from among the
+reeds, and trembling and pale, examine me with the air of a startled
+gazelle. I stood mute and motionless, gazing at her. Surely she
+possessed the royal beauty of the lily. An imagination enamored of the
+melodies of the antique muse would have immediately taken her for the
+nymph of that brook. Like two blue-bells in a field of ripe grain, her
+large blue eyes were as limpid as the stream which reflected the azure
+of the sky. On her brow sat the pride of the huntress Diana. Her
+attitude and the expression of her face betrayed a royalty which desired
+to conceal its greatness, a strange mixture of timorous boldness and
+superb timidity--and over it all, the brilliancy of youth--a nameless
+charm of innocence and childishness tempered in a charming manner the
+dignity of her noble presence.
+
+I turned away, charmed and agitated, not having spoken a word. After
+wandering about sometime longer I finally discovered the little army
+corps, marching towards the chateau, the general always ahead. As I had
+anticipated, the battle was about over, a few shots fired at the
+fugitives were alone heard. Edgar saw me in the distance, and looked
+furious. "Ah traitor!" said he, "you have lagged behind! I am riddled
+with balls; I have six bullets in my breast," "Monsieur," cried the
+general, "at what juncture did you leave the combat?" "You see," said
+Edgar to me, "that the torture is about to commence again." "General,"
+observed Madame de Meilhan, "I think that the munitions are exhausted
+and dinner is ready." "Very well," gravely replied the hero, "we will
+take Lubeck at dessert." "Alas! we are taken;" said Edgar, heaving a
+sigh that would have lifted off a piece of the Cordilleras.
+
+M. de Meilhan left the group of promenaders and joined me; we walked
+side by side. You can imagine, madame, how anxious I was to question
+Edgar; you can also comprehend the feeling of delicacy which restrained
+me. My poet worships beauty; but it is a pagan worship of color and
+form. The result is, a certain boldness of detail not always excusable
+by grace of expression, in his description of a beautiful woman; too
+lively an enthusiasm for the flesh; too great a satisfaction in drawing
+lines and contours not to shock the refined. A woman poses before him
+like a statue or rather like a Georgian in a slave-market, and from the
+manner in which he analyzes and dissects her, you would say that he
+wanted either to sell or buy her. I allude now to his speech only, which
+is lively, animated but rather French its picturesque crudity. As a poet
+he sculptures like Phidias, and his verse has all the dazzling purity of
+marble.
+
+I preferred to apply to Madame de Meilhan. On our return to the chateau
+I questioned her, and learned that my beautiful unknown was named Madame
+Louise Guerin. At that word "Madame" my heart contracted. Wherefore? I
+could not tell. Afterwards I learned that she was a widow and poor, that
+she lived by the labor of those pretty fingers which I had seen dabbling
+in the water. Further than that, Madame de Meilhan knew nothing, her
+remarks were confined to indulgent suppositions and benevolent comments.
+A woman so young, so beautiful, so poor, working for her livelihood,
+must be a noble and pure creature. I felt for her a respectful pity,
+which her appearance in the drawing-room in all the magnificence of her
+beauty, grace and youth, changed into extravagant admiration. Our eyes
+met as if we had a secret between us; she appeared, and I yielded to the
+charm of her presence. Edgar observed that she was his mother's
+companion, who would remain with her until he married. The wretch! if he
+had not written such fine verses, I would have strangled him on the
+spot. I sat opposite her at dinner, and could observe her at my ease.
+She appeared like a young queen at the board of one of her great
+vassals. Grave and smiling, she spoke little, but so to the point, and
+in so sweet a voice, that I cherished in my heart every word that fell
+from her lips, like pearls from a casket. I also was silent and was
+astonished, that when she did not speak, any one should dare to open his
+lips before her. Edgar's witty sallies seemed to be in the worst
+possible taste, and twenty times I was on the point of saying to him:
+"Edgar, do you not see that the queen is listening to you?"
+
+At dessert, as the general was preparing to manoeuvre the artillery of
+the siege, every one rose precipitately, to escape the capture and
+pillage of Lubeck. Edgar rushed into the park, the guests dispersed; and
+while Madame de Meilhan, bearing with heroic resignation the
+inconveniences attached to her dignity as mistress of the house, fought
+by the general's side like Clorinde by the side of Argant, I found
+myself alone, with the young widow, upon the terrace of the chateau. We
+talked, and a powerful enchantment compelled me to surrender my soul
+into her keeping. I amazed myself by confiding to her what I had never
+told myself.
+
+My most cherished and hidden feelings were drawn irresistibly forth from
+the inmost recesses of my bosom. When I spoke, I seemed to translate her
+thoughts; when she in turn replied, she paraphrased mine. In less than
+an hour I learned to know her. She possessed, at the same time, an
+experimental mind, which could descend to the root of things, and a
+tender and inexperienced heart which life had never troubled.
+Theoretically she was governed by a lofty and precocious reason ripened
+by misfortune; practically, she was swayed by the dictates of an
+innocent and untried soul. Until now, she has lived only in the activity
+of her thoughts; the rest of her being sleeps, seeks or awaits. Who is
+she? She is not a widow. Albert Guerin is not her name; she has never
+been married. Where Madame de Meilhan hesitates, I doubt, I decide. How
+does it happen that the mystery with which she is surrounded has to me
+all the prestige and lustre of a glowing virtue? How is it that my heart
+rejoices at it when my prudence should take alarm? Another mystery,
+which I do not undertake to explain. All that I know is, that she is
+poor, and that if I had a crown I should wish to ennoble it by placing
+it upon that lovely brow.
+
+Do not tell me that this is madness; that love is not born of a look or
+a word, that it must germinate in the heart for a season before it can
+bear fruit. Enthusiasts live fast. They reach the same end as reason,
+and by like paths; only reason drags its weary length along, while
+enthusiasm flies on eagle's wing. Besides, this love has long since
+budded; it only sought a heart to twine itself around. Is it love? I
+deceive myself perhaps. Whence this feeling that agitates me? this
+intoxication that has taken possession of me? this radiance that dazzles
+me? I saw her again, and the charm increased. How you would love her!
+how my mother would have loved her!
+
+In the midst of these preoccupations I have not forgotten, madame, the
+instructions that you gave me. That you are interested in Mademoiselle
+de Chateaudun's destiny suffices to interest me likewise. The Prince de
+Monbert is expected here; I can therefore send you, in a few days, the
+information you desire taken on the spot. It has been ten years since I
+have seen the Prince; he has a brilliant mind and a loyal heart, and he
+has, in his life, seen more tigers and postilions than any other man in
+France. I will scrupulously note any change that ten years' travel may
+have brought about in his manner of thinking and seeing; but I believe
+that I can safely declare beforehand, that nothing can be found in his
+frank nature to justify the flight of the strange and beautiful heiress.
+
+Accept, madame, my respectful homage.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ M. LE COMTE DE VILLIERS,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+Rouen, July 10th 18--.
+
+Very rarely in life do we receive letters that we expect; we always
+receive those that we don't expect. The expected ones inform us of what
+we already know; the unexpected ones tell us of things entirely new. A
+philosopher prefers the latter--of which I now send you one.
+
+I passed some hours at Richeport with you and Edgar, and there I made a
+discovery that you must have made before me, and a reflection that you
+will make after me. I am sixty years old in my feelings--travel ages one
+more than anything else--you are twenty-five, according to your
+baptismal register. How fortunate you are to have some one able to give
+you advice! How unfortunate I am that my experience has been sad enough
+to enable me to be that one to give it! But I have a vague presentiment
+that my advice will bring you happiness, if followed. We should never
+neglect a presentiment. Every man carries in him a spark of Heaven's
+intelligence--it is often the torch that illumines the darkness of our
+future. This is called presentiment.
+
+Read attentively, and do not disturb yourself about the end. I must
+first explain by what means of observation I made my discovery. Then the
+denouement will appear in its proper place, which is not at the
+beginning.
+
+The following is what I saw at the Chateau de Richeport. You did not see
+it, because you were an actor. I was merely a spectator, and had that
+advantage over you.
+
+You, Edgar, and myself were in the parlor at noon. It is the hour in the
+country when one takes shelter behind closed blinds to enjoy a friendly
+chat. One is always sad, dreamy, meditative at this hour of a lovely
+summer-day, and can speak carelessly of indifferent things, and at the
+same time have every thought concentrated upon one beloved object.
+These are the mysteries of the _Demon de Midi_, so much dreaded by the
+poet-king.
+
+There was in one corner of the room a little rosewood-table, so frail
+that it could be crushed by the weight of a man's hand. On this table
+was a piece of embroidery and a crystal vase filled with flowers.
+Suspended over this table was a copy of Camille Roqueplan's picture:
+"_The Lion in Love_." In the recess near the window was a piano open,
+and evidently just abandoned by a woman; the little stool was
+half-overturned by catching in the dress of some one suddenly rising,
+and the music open was a soprano air from _Puritani_:--
+
+  "Vien diletto, in ciel e luna,
+  Tutto tace intorno...."
+
+You will see how by inductions I reached the truth. I don't know the
+woman of this piano; I nevertheless will swear she exists. Moreover, I
+know she is young, pretty, has a good figure, is graceful and easy in
+her manner, and is adored by some one in the chateau. If any ordinary
+woman had left her embroidery on the table, if she had upset the stool
+in leaving the piano, two idle nervous young men like yourselves would
+from curiosity and ennui have examined the embroidery, disarranged the
+vase of flowers, picked up the stool, and closed the piano. But no hand
+dared to meddle with this holy disorder under pretext of arranging it.
+These evidences, still fresh and undisturbed, attest a respect that
+belongs only to love.
+
+This woman, to me unknown, is then young and pretty, since she is so
+ardently loved, and by more than one person, as I shall proceed to
+prove. She has a commanding figure, because her embroidery is fine. I
+know not if she be maid or wife, but this I do know, if she is not
+married, the vestiges that she left in the parlor indicate a great
+independence of position and character. If she is married, she is not
+governed by her husband, or indeed she may be a widow.
+
+Allow me to recall your conversation with Edgar at dinner. Hitherto I
+have remarked that in all discussions of painting, music, literature
+and love, your opinions always coincided with Edgar's; to hear you speak
+was to hear Edgar, and _vice versa_. In opinions and sentiments you were
+twin-brothers. Now listen how you both expressed yourselves before me on
+that day.
+
+"I believe," said Edgar, "that love is a modern invention, and woman was
+invented by Andre Chenier, and perfected by Victor Hugo, Dumas and
+Balzac. We owe this precious conquest to the revolution of '89. Before
+that, love did not exist; Cupid with his bow and quiver reigned as a
+sovereign. There were no women, there were only _beauties_.
+
+  "O, miracle des belles,
+  Je vous enseignerais un nid de tourterelles."
+
+"These two lines have undergone a thousand variations under the pens of
+a thousand poets. Women were only commended for their eyes--very
+beautiful things when they _are_ beautiful, but they should not be made
+the object of exclusive admiration. A beauty possessing no attraction
+but beautiful eyes would soon lose her sway over the hearts of men.
+Racine has used the words _eye_ and _eyes_ one hundred and sixty-five
+times in _Andromache_. Woman has been deprived of her divine crown of
+golden or chestnut hair; she has been dethroned by having it covered
+with white powder. We have avenged woman for her long neglect; we have
+preserved the _eyes_ and added all the other charms. Thus women love us
+poets; and in our days Orpheus would not be torn to pieces by snowy
+hands on the shores of the Strymon."
+
+"Ah! that is just like you, Edgar," you said, with a sad laugh and a
+would-be calm voice. "At dessert you always give us a dish of paradoxes.
+I myself greatly prefer Montmorency cherries."
+
+Some minutes after Edgar said:
+
+"The other day I paid a visit to Delacroix. He has commenced a picture
+that promises to be superb; my dear traveller, Roger, it will possess
+the sky you love--pure indigo, the celestial carpet of the blue god."
+
+"I abhor blue," you said; "I dread ophthalmia. Surfeit of blue compels
+the use of green spectacles. I adore the skies of Hobbema and
+Backhuysen; one can look at them with the naked eye for twenty years,
+and yet never need an oculist in old age."
+
+After some rambling conversation you uttered an eulogy on a sacred air
+of Palestrina that you heard sung at the Conservatory concert. When you
+had finished, Edgar rested his elbows on the table, his chin on his
+hand, and let fall from his lips the following words, warmed by the
+spiritual fire of his eyes.
+
+"I have always abhorred church-music," said he. "Sacred music is
+proscribed in my house as opium is in China. I like none but sentimental
+music. All that does not resemble in some way the _Amor possente nome_
+of Rossini must remained buried in the catacombs of the piano. Music was
+only created for women and love. Doubtless simplicity is beautiful, but
+it so often only belongs to simple people.
+
+"Art is the only passion of a true artist. The music of Palestrina
+resembles the music of Rossini about as much as the twitter of the
+swallow resembles the song of the nightingale."
+
+It was evident to me, my young friend, that neither of you expressed
+your genuine convictions and true opinions. You were sitting opposite,
+and yet neither looked at the other while speaking. You both were
+handsome and charming, but handsome and charming like two English cocks
+before a fight. What particularly struck me was that neither of you ever
+said: "What is the matter with you to-day, my friend? you seem to
+delight in contradicting me." Edgar did not ask you this question, nor
+did you ask it of him. You thought it useless to inquire into the cause
+of these half-angry contradictions; you both knew what you were about.
+You and Edgar both love the same woman. It is the woman who suddenly
+retreated from the piano. Perhaps she left the house after some
+disagreeable scene between you two in her presence.
+
+I watched all your movements when we three were together in the parlor.
+The tone of your voices, naturally sonorous, sounded harsh and
+discordant; you held in your hand a branch of _hibiscus_ that you idly
+pulled to pieces. Edgar opened a magazine and read it upside downwards;
+it was quite evident that you were a restraint upon each other, and
+that I was a restraint upon you both.
+
+At intervals Edgar would cast a furtive glance at the open piano, at the
+embroidery, and the vase of flowers; you unconsciously did the same; but
+your two glances never met at the same point; when Edgar looked at the
+flowers, you looked at the piano; if either of you had been alone, you
+would have never taken your eyes off these trifles that bore the
+perfumed impression of a beloved woman's hand, and which seemed to
+retain some of her personality and to console you in her absence.
+
+You were the last comer in the house adorned by the presence of this
+woman; you are also the most reasonable, therefore your own sense and
+what is due to friendship must have already dictated your line of
+conduct--let me add my advice in case your conscience is not quite
+awake--fly! fly! before it is too late--linger, and your self-love, your
+interested vanity, will no longer permit you to give place to a friend
+who will have become a rival. Passion has not yet taken deep root in
+your heart; at present it is nothing more than a fancy, a transitory
+preference, a pleasant employment of your idle moments.
+
+In the country, every young woman is more or less disposed to break the
+hearts of young men, like you, who gravitate like satellites. Women
+delight in this play--but like many other tragic plays, it commences
+with smiles but terminates in tears and blood! Moreover, my young
+friend, in withdrawing seasonably, you are not only wise, you are
+generous!
+
+I know that Edgar has been for a long time deeply in love with this
+woman; you are merely indulging in a rural flirtation, a momentary
+caprice. In a little while, vain rivalry will make you blind, embitter
+your disposition, and deceive you as to the nature of your
+sentiments--believing yourself seriously in love you will be unable to
+withdraw. To-day your pride is not interested; wait not until to-morrow.
+Edgar is your friend, you must respect his prerogatives. A woman gave
+you a wise example to follow--she suddenly withdrew from the presence of
+you both when she saw a threatening danger.
+
+A pretty woman is always dangerous when she comes to inaugurate the
+divinity of her charms in a lonely chateau, in the presence of two
+inflammable young men. I detect the cunning of the fair unknown: she
+lavishes innocent smiles upon both of you--she equally divides her
+coquetries between you; she approaches you to dazzle--she leaves you to
+make herself regretted; she entangles you in the illusion of her
+brilliant fascination; she moves to seduce your senses; she speaks to
+charm your soul; she sings to destroy your reason.
+
+Forget yourself for one instant, my young friend, on this flowery slope,
+and woe betide you when you reach the bottom! Be intoxicated by this
+feast of sweet words, soft perfumes and radiant smiles, then send me a
+report of your soul's condition when you recover your senses! At
+present, in spite of your skirmishes of wit, you are still the friend of
+Edgar ... hostility will certainly come. Friendship is too feeble a
+sentiment to struggle against love. This passion is more violent than
+tropical storms--I have felt it--I am one of its victims now! There
+lives another woman--half siren, half Circe--who has crossed my path in
+life, as you well know. If I had collected in my house as many friends
+as Socrates desired to see in his, and all these friends were to become
+my rivals, I feel that my jealousy would fire the house, and I would
+gladly perish in the flames after seeing them all dead before my eyes.
+
+Oh, fatal preoccupation! I only wished to speak of your affairs, and
+here I am talking of my own. The clouds that I heap upon your horizon
+roll back towards mine.
+
+In exchange for my advice, render me a service. You know Madame de
+Braimes, the friend of Mlle. de Chateaudun. Madame de Braimes is
+acquainted with everything that I am ignorant of, and that my happiness
+in life depends upon discovering. It is time for the inexplicable to be
+explained. A human enigma cannot for ever conceal its answer. Every
+trial must end before the despair of him who is tried. Madame de Braimes
+is an accomplice in this enigma; her secret now is a burden on her
+lips, she must let it fall into your ear, and I will cherish a life-long
+gratitude to you both.
+
+Any friend but you would smile at this apparently strange language--I
+write you a long chapter of psychological and moral inductions to show
+my knowledge about the management of love affairs and affairs
+otherwise--I divine all your enigmas; I illuminate the darkness of all
+your mysteries, and when it comes to working on my own account, to be
+perspicacious for my own benefit, to make discoveries about my own love
+affair, I suddenly abdicate, I lose my luminous faculties, I put a band
+over my eyes, and humbly beg a friend to lend me the thread of the
+labyrinth and guide my steps in the bewildering darkness. All this must
+appear singular to you, to me it is quite natural. Through the thousand
+dark accidents that love scatters in the path of life, light can only
+reach us by means of a friend. We ourselves are helpless; looking at
+others we are lynx-eyed, looking at ourselves we are almost blind. It is
+the optical nerve of the passions. It is mortifying to thus sacrifice
+the highest prerogatives of man at the feet of a woman, to feel
+compelled to yield to her caprices and submit to the inexorable
+exigencies of love. The artificial life I am leading is odious to me.
+Patience is a virtue that died with Job, and I cannot perform the
+miracle of resuscitating it.
+
+Take my advice--be prudent--be wise--be generous--leave Richeport and
+come to me; we can assist and console each other; you can render me a
+great service, I will explain how when we meet--I will remain here for a
+few days; do not hesitate to come at once--Between a friend who fears
+you and a friend who loves you and claims you--can you hesitate?
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN to Mme. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Grenoble (Isere).
+
+Pont de L'Arche, July 15th 18--.
+
+Come to my help, my dear Valentine--I am miserable. Each joyless morning
+finds me more wretched than I was the previous night. Oh! what a burden
+is life to those who are fated to live only for life itself! No sunshine
+gilds my horizon with the promises of hope--I expect nothing but sorrow.
+Who can I trust now that my own heart has misled me? When error arose
+from the duplicity of others I could support the disenchantment--the
+deceptive love of Roger was not a bitter surprise, my instinct had
+already divined it; I comprehended a want of congeniality between us,
+and felt that a rapture would anticipate an alliance: and while thinking
+I loved him, I yet said to myself: This is not love.
+
+But now I am my own deceiver--and I awaken to lament the self-confidence
+and assurance that were the source of my strength and courage. With
+flattering ecstasy I cried: It is he!... Alas! he replied not: It is
+she! And now he is gone--he has left me! Dreadful awakening from so
+beautiful a dream!
+
+Valentine, burn quickly the letter telling you of my ingenuous hopes, my
+confident happiness--yes, burn the foolish letter, so there will remain
+no witness of my unrequited love! What! that deep emotion agitating my
+whole being, whose language was the tears of joy that dimmed my eyes,
+and the counted beatings of my throbbing heart--that master-passion, at
+whose behest I trembled while blushes mantled and fled from my cheek,
+betraying me to him and him to me; the love whose fire I could not
+hide--the beautiful future I foresaw--that world of bliss in which I
+began to live--this pure love that gave an impetus to life--this
+devotion that I felt was reciprocated.... All, all was but a creation of
+my fancy.... and all has vanished ... here I am alone with nothing to
+strengthen me but a memory ... the memory of a lost illusion.... Have I
+a right to complain? It is the irrevocable law--after fiction,
+reality--after a meteor, darkness--after the mirage, a desert!
+
+I loved as a young heart full of faith and tenderness never loved
+before--and this love was a mistake; he was a stranger to me--he did not
+love me, and I had no excuse for loving him; he is gone, he had a right
+to go, and I had no right to detain him--I have not even the right to
+mourn his absence. Who is he? A friend of Madame de Meilhan, and a
+stranger to me!... He a stranger!... to me!... No, no, he loves me, I
+know he does ... but why did he not tell me so! Has some one come
+between us? Perhaps a suspicion separates us.... Oh! he may think I am
+in love with Edgar! horrible idea! the thought kills me.... I will write
+to him; would you not advise it? What shall I tell him? If he were to
+know who I am, doubtless his prejudices against me would be removed. Oh!
+I will return to Paris--then he will see that I do not love Edgar, since
+I leave him never to return where he is. Yet he could not have been
+mistaken concerning the feelings existing between his friend and myself;
+he must have seen that I was perfectly free: independence cannot be
+assumed. If he thought me in love with another, why did he come to bid
+me good-bye? why did he come alone to see me? and why did he not allude
+to my approaching return to Paris?--why did he not say he would be glad
+to meet me again? How pale and sad he was! and yet he uttered not one
+word of regret--of distant hope! The servant said: "Monsieur de Villiers
+wishes to see madame, shall I send him away as I did Monsieur de
+Meilhan?" I was in the garden and advanced to meet him. He said: "I
+return to Paris to-morrow, madame, and have come to see if you have any
+commands, and to bid you good-bye."
+
+Two long days had passed since I last saw him, and this unexpected visit
+startled me so that I was afraid to trust my voice to speak. "They will
+miss you very much at Richeport," he added, "and Madame de Meilhan hopes
+daily to see you return." I hastily said: "I cannot return to her
+house, I am going away from here very soon." He did not ask where, but
+gazed at me in a strange, almost suspicious way, and to change the
+conversation, said: "We had at Richeport, after you left, a charming
+man, who is celebrated for his wit and for being a great traveller--the
+Prince de Monbert." ... He spoke as if on an indifferent subject, and
+Heaven knows he was right, for Roger at this moment interested me very,
+very little. I waited for a word of the future, a ray of hope to
+brighten my life, another of those tender glances that thrilled my soul
+with joy ... but he avoided all allusion to our past intercourse; he
+shunned my looks as carefully as he had formerly sought them.... I was
+alarmed.... I no longer understood him.... I looked around to see if we
+were not watched, so changed was his manner, so cold and formal was his
+speech.... Strange! I was alone with him, but he was not alone with me;
+there was a third person between us, invisible to me, but to him
+visible, dictating his words and inspiring his conduct.
+
+"Shall you remain long in Paris?" I asked, trembling and dismayed. "I am
+not decided at present, madame," he replied. Irritated by this mystery,
+I was tempted for a moment to say: "I hope, if you remain in Paris for
+any length of time, I shall have the pleasure of seeing you at my
+cousin's, the Duchess de Langeac," and then I thought of telling him my
+story. I was tired of playing the role of adventuress before him ... but
+he seemed so preoccupied, and inattentive to what I said, he so coldly
+received my affectionate overtures, that I had not the courage to
+confide in him. Would not my confidence be met with indifference? One
+thing consoled me--his sadness; and then he had come, not on my account,
+but on his own; nothing obliged him to make this visit; it could only
+have been inspired by a wish to see me. While he remained near me, in
+spite of his strange indifference, I had hope; I believed that in his
+farewell there would be one kind word upon which I could live till we
+should meet again ... I was mistaken ... he bowed and left me ... left
+me without a word ...! Then I felt that all was lost, and bursting into
+tears sobbed like a child. Suddenly the servant opened the door and
+said: "The gentleman forgot Madame de Meilhan's letters." At that moment
+he entered the room and took from the table a packet of letters that the
+servant had given him when he first came, but which he had forgotten
+when leaving. At the sight of my tears he stood still with an agitated,
+alarmed look upon his face; he then gazed at me with a singular
+expression of cruel joy sparkling in his eyes. I thought he had come
+back to say something to me, but he abruptly left the room. I heard the
+door shut, and knew it had shut off my hopes of happiness.
+
+The next day, at the risk of meeting Edgar with him, I remained all day
+on the road that runs along the Seine. I hoped he would go that way. I
+also hoped he would come once more to see me ... to bring him back I
+relied upon my tears--upon those tears shed for him, and which he must
+have understood ... he came not! Three days have passed since he left,
+and I spend all my time in recalling this last interview, what he said
+to me, his tone of voice, his look.... One minute I find an explanation
+for everything, my faith revives ... he loves me! he is waiting for
+something to happen, he wishes to take some step, he fears some
+obstacle, he waits to clear up some doubts ... a generous scruple
+restrains him.... The next minute the dreadful truth stares me in the
+face. I say to myself: "He is a young man full of imagination, of
+romantic ideas ... we met, I pleased him, he would have loved me had I
+belonged to his station in life; but everything separates us; he will
+forget me." ... Then, revolting against a fate that I can successfully
+resist, I exclaim: "I _will_ see him again ... I am young, free, and
+beautiful--I must be beautiful, for he told me so--I have an income of a
+hundred thousand pounds.... With all these blessings it would be absurd
+for me not to be happy. Besides, I love him deeply, and this ardent love
+inspires me with great confidence ... it is impossible that so much love
+should be born in my heart for no purpose." ... Sometimes this
+confidence deserts me, and I despairingly say: "M. de Villiers is a
+loyal man, who would have frankly said to me: 'I love you, love me and
+let us be happy.'" ... Since he did not say that, there must exist
+between us an insurmountable obstacle, a barrier of invincible delicacy;
+because he is engaged he cannot devote his life to me, and he must
+renounce me for ever. M. de Meilhan comes here every day; I send word I
+am too sick to see him; which is the truth, for I would be in Paris now
+if I were well enough to travel. I shall not return by the cars, I dread
+meeting Roger. I forgot to tell you about his arrival at Richeport; it
+is an amusing story; I laughed very much at the time; _then_ I could
+laugh, now I never expect to smile again.
+
+Four days ago, I was at Richeport, all the time wishing to leave, and
+always detained by Mad. de Meilhan; it was about noon, and we were all
+sitting in the parlor--Edgar, M. de Villiers, Mad. de Meilhan and
+myself. Ah! how happy I was that day ... How could I foresee any
+trouble?... They were listening to an air I was playing from Bellini ...
+A servant entered and asked this simple question: "Does madame expect
+the Prince de Monbert by the twelve o'clock train?"..... At this name I
+quickly fled, without stopping to pick up the piano stool that I
+overturned in my hurried retreat. I ran to my room, took my hat and an
+umbrella to hide my face should I meet any one, and walked to Pont de
+l'Arche. Soon after I heard the Prince had arrived, and dinner was
+ordered for five o'clock, so he could leave in the 7.30 train.
+Politeness required me to send word to Mad. de Meilhan that I would be
+detained at Pont de l'Arche. To avoid the entreaties of Edgar I took
+refuge at the house of an old fishwoman, near the gate of the town. She
+is devoted to me, and I often take her children toys and clothes. At
+half-past six, the time for Roger to be taken to the depot, I was at the
+window of this house, which was on the road that led to the
+cars--presently I heard several familiar voices.... I heard my name
+distinctly pronounced.... "Mlle de Chateaudun." ... I concealed myself
+behind the half-closed blinds, and attentively listened: "She is at
+Rouen," said the Prince.
+
+... "What a strange woman," said M. de Villiers: "Ah! this conduct is
+easily explained," said Edgar, "she is angry with him." "Doubtless she
+believes me culpable," replied the Prince, "and I wish at all costs to
+see her and justify myself." In speaking thus, they all three passed
+under the window where I was. I trembled--I dared not look at them....
+When they had gone by, I peeped through the shutter and saw them all
+standing still and admiring the beautiful bridge with its flower-covered
+pillars, and the superb landscape spread before them. Seeing these three
+handsome men standing there, all three so elegant, so distinguished! A
+wicked sentiment of female vanity crossed my mind; and I said to myself
+with miserable pride and triumph: "All three love me ... All three are
+thinking of me!" ... Oh! I have been cruelly punished for this
+contemptible vanity. Alas! one of the three did not love me--and he was
+the one I loved--one of them did not think of me, and he was the one
+that filled my every thought. Another sentiment more noble than the
+first, saddened my heart. I said: "Here are three devoted friends ...
+perhaps they will soon be bitter enemies ... and I the cause." O
+Valentine! you cannot imagine how sad and despondent I am. Do not desert
+me now that I most need your comforting sympathy! Burn my last letter, I
+entreat you.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to_ MADAME GUERIN,
+Pont de l'Arche (Eure).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 10th 18--.
+
+Three times have I been to the post-office since you left the chateau in
+such an abrupt and inexplicable manner. I am lost in conjecture about
+your sudden departure, which was both unnecessary and unprepared. It is
+doubtless because you do not wish to tell me the reason that you refuse
+to see me. I know that you are still at Pont de l'Arche, and that you
+have never left Madame Taverneau's house. So that when she tells me in a
+measured and mysterious tone that you have been absent for some time;
+looking at the closed door of your room, behind which I divine your
+presence, I am seized with an insane desire to kick down the narrow
+plank which separates me from you. Fits of gloomy passion possess me
+which illogical obstacles and unjust resistance always excite.
+
+What have I done? What can you have against me? Let me at least know the
+crime for which I am punished. On the scaffold they always read the
+victim his sentence, equitable or otherwise. Will you be more cruel than
+a hangman? Read me my sentence. Nothing is more frightful than to be
+executed in a dungeon without knowing for what offence.
+
+For three days--three eternities--I have taxed my memory to an alarming
+extent. I have recalled everything that I have said for the last two
+weeks, word by word, syllable for syllable, endeavoring to give to each
+expression its intonation, its inflection, its sharps and flats. Every
+different signification that the music of the voice could give to a
+thought, I have analyzed, debated, commented upon twenty times a day.
+Not a word, accent nor gesture has enlightened me. I defy the most
+embittered and envious spirit to find anything that could offend the
+most susceptible pride, the haughtiest majesty. Nothing has occurred in
+my familiar intercourse with you that would alarm a sensitive plant or
+a mimosa. Therefore, such cannot be the motive for your panic-stricken
+flight. I am young, ardent, impetuous; I attach no importance to certain
+social conventionalities, but I feel confident that I have never failed
+in a religious respect for the holiness of love and modesty. I love
+you--I could never, wilfully, have offended you. How could my eyes and
+lips have expressed what was neither in my head nor in my heart? If
+there is no fire without smoke, as a natural consequence there can be no
+smoke without fire!
+
+It is not that--Is it caprice or coquetry? Your mind is too serious and
+your soul too honest for such an act; and besides, what would be your
+object? Such feline cruelties may suit blase women of the world who are
+roused by the sight of moral torture; who give, in the invisible sphere
+of the passions, feasts of the Roman empresses, where beating hearts are
+torn by the claws of the wild beasts of the soul, unbridled desires,
+insatiate hate and maddened jealousy, all the hideous pack of bad
+passions. Louise, you have not wished to play such a game with me. It
+would be unavailing and dangerous.
+
+Although I have been brought up in what is called the world, I am still
+a savage at heart. I can talk as others do of politics, railroads,
+social economy, literature. I can imitate civilized gesture tolerably
+well; but under this white-glove polish I have preserved the vehemence
+and simplicity of barbarism. Unless you have some serious, paramount
+reason, not one of those trivial excuses with which ordinary women
+revenge themselves upon the lukewarmness of their lovers--do not prolong
+my punishment a day, an hour, a minute--speak not to me of reputation,
+virtue or duty. You have given me the right to love you--by the light of
+the stars, under the sweet-scented acacias, in the sunlight at the
+window of Richard's donjon which opens over an abyss. You have conferred
+upon me that august priesthood. Your hand has trembled in mine. A
+celestial light, kindled by my glance, has shone in your eyes. If only
+for a moment, your soul was mine--the electric spark united us.
+
+It may be that this signifies nothing to you. I refuse to acknowledge
+any such subtle distinctions--that moment united us for ever. For one
+instant you wished to love me; I cannot divide my mind, soul and body
+into three distinct parts; all my being worships you and longs to obtain
+you. I cannot graduate my love according to its object. I do not know
+who you are. You might be a queen of earth or the queen of heaven; I
+could not love you otherwise.
+
+Receive me. You need explain nothing if you do not wish; but receive me;
+I cannot live without you. What difference does it make to you if I see
+you?
+
+Ah! how I suffered, even when you were at the chateau! What evil
+influence stood between us? I had a vague feeling that something
+important and fatal had happened. It was a sort of presentiment of the
+fulfilment of a destiny. Was your fate or mine decided in that hour, or
+both? What decisive sentence had the recording angel written upon the
+ineffaceable register of the future? Who was condemned and who absolved
+in that solemn hour?
+
+And yet no appreciable event happened, nothing appeared changed in our
+life. Why this fearful uneasiness, this deep dejection, this
+presentiment of a great but unknown danger? I have had that same
+instinctive perception of evil, that magnetic terror which slumbering
+misers experience when a thief prowls around their hidden treasure; it
+seemed as if some one wished to rob me of my happiness.
+
+We were embarrassed in each other's presence; some one acted as a
+restraint upon us. Who was it? No one was there but Raymond, one of my
+best friends, who had arrived the evening before and was soon to depart
+in order to marry his cousin, young, pretty and rich! It is singular
+that he, so gentle, so confiding, so unreserved, so chivalrous, should
+have appeared to me sharp, taciturn, rough, almost dull,--and my
+feelings towards him were full of bitterness and spite. Can friendship
+be but lukewarm hate? I fear so, for I often felt a savage desire to
+quarrel with Raymond and seize him by the throat. He talked of a blade
+of grass, a fly, of the most indifferent object, and I felt wounded as
+if by a personality. Everything he did offended me; if he stood up I was
+indignant, if he sat down I became furious; every movement of his seemed
+a provocation; why did I not perceive this sooner? How does it happen
+that the man for whom I entertain such a strong natural aversion should
+have been my friend for ten years? How strange that I should not have
+been aware of this antipathy sooner!
+
+And you, ordinarily so natural, so easy in your manners, became
+constrained; you scarcely answered me when he was present. The simplest
+expression agitated you; it seemed as if you had to give an account to
+some one of every word, and that you were afraid of a scolding, like a
+young girl who is brought by her mother into the drawing-room for the
+first time.
+
+One evening, I was sitting by you on the sofa, reading to you that
+sublime elegy of the great poet, La Tristesse d'Olympio; Raymond
+entered. You rose abruptly, like a guilty child, assumed an humble and
+repentant attitude, asking forgiveness with your eyes. In what secret
+compact, what hidden covenant, had you failed?
+
+The look with which Raymond answered yours doubtless contained your
+pardon, for you resumed your seat, but moved away from me so as not to
+abuse the accorded grace; I continued to read, but you no longer
+listened--you were absorbed in a delicious revery through which floated
+vaguely the lines of the poet. I was at your feet, and never have I felt
+so far away from you. The space between us, too narrow for another to
+occupy, was an abyss.
+
+What invisible hand dashed me down from my heaven? Who drove me, in my
+unconsciousness, as far from you as the equator from the pole? Yesterday
+your eyes, bathed in light and life, turned softly towards me; your hand
+rested willingly in mine. You accepted my love, unavowed but understood;
+for I hate those declarations which remind one of a challenge. If one
+has need to say that he loves, he is not worth loving; speech is
+intended for indifferent beings; talking is a means of keeping silent;
+you must have seen, in my glance, by the trembling of my voice, in my
+sudden changes of color, by the impalpable caress of my manner, that I
+love you madly.
+
+It was when Raymond looked at you that I began to appreciate the depth
+of my passion. I felt as if some one had thrust a red-hot iron into my
+heart. Ah! what a wretched country France is! If I were in Turkey, I
+would bear you off on my Arab steed, shut you up in a harem, with walls
+bristling with cimetars, surrounded by a deep moat; black eunuchs should
+sleep before the threshold of your chamber, and at night, instead of
+dogs, lions should guard the precincts!
+
+Do not laugh at my violence, it is sincere; no one will ever love you
+like me. Raymond cannot--a sentimental Don Quixote, in search of
+adventures and chivalrous deeds. In order to love a woman, he must have
+fished her out of the spray of Niagara; or dislocated his shoulder in
+stopping her carriage on the brink of a precipice; or snatched her out
+of the hands of picturesque bandits, costumed like Fra Diavolo; he is
+only fit for the hero of a ten-volume English novel, with a long-tailed
+coat, tight gray pantaloons and top-boots. You are too sensible to
+admire the philanthropic freaks of this modern paladin, who would be
+ridiculous were he not brave, rich and handsome; this moral Don Juan,
+who seduces by his virtue, cannot suit you.
+
+When shall I see you? Our moments of happiness in this life are so
+short; I have lost three days of Paradise by your persistence in
+concealing yourself. What god can ever restore them to me?
+
+Louise, I have only loved, till now, marble shadows, phantoms of beauty;
+but what is this love of sculpture and painting compared with the
+passion that consumes me? Ah! how bittersweet it is to be deprived at
+once of will, strength and reason, and trembling, kneeling, vanquished,
+to surrender the key of one's heart into the hands of the beautiful
+victor! Do not, like Elfrida, throw it into the torrent!
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE BE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+ROUEN, July 12th 18--
+
+MADAME:--If you should find in these hastily written lines expressions
+of severity that might wound you in one of your tenderest affections, I
+beg you to ascribe them to the serious interest with which you have
+inspired me for a person whom I do do not know. Madame, the case is
+serious, and the comedy, performed for the gratification of childish
+vanity, might, if prolonged, end in a tragedy. Let Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun know immediately that her peace of mind, her whole future is
+at stake. You have not a day, not an hour, not an instant to lose in
+exerting your influence. I answer for nothing; haste, O haste! Your
+position, your high intelligence, your good sense give you, necessarily,
+the authority of an elder sister or a mother over Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun; exercise it if you would save that reckless girl. If she
+acts from caprice, nothing can justify it; if she is playing a game it
+is a cruel one, with ruin in the end; if she is subjecting M. de Monbert
+to a trial, it has lasted long enough.
+
+I accompanied M. de Monbert to Rouen; I lived in daily, hourly
+intercourse with him, and had ample opportunities for studying his
+character; he is a wounded lion. Never having had the honor of meeting
+Mademoiselle de Chateaudun, I cannot tell whether the Prince is the man
+to suit her; Mademoiselle de Chateaudun alone can decide so delicate a
+question. But I do assert that M. de Monbert is not the man to be
+trifled with, and whatever decision Mademoiselle de Chateaudun may come
+to, it is her duty and due to her dignity to put an end to his suspense.
+
+If she must strike, let her strike quickly, and not show herself more
+pitiless than the executioner, who, at least, puts a speedy end to his
+victim's misery. M. de Monbert, a gentleman in the highest acceptation
+of the word, would not be what he now is, if he had been treated with
+the consideration that his sincere distress so worthy of pity, his true
+love so worthy of respect, commanded. Let her not deceive herself; she
+has awakened, not one of those idle loves born in a Parisian atmosphere,
+which die as they have lived, without a struggle or a heart-break, but a
+strong and deep passion that if trifled with may destroy her. I
+acknowledge that there is something absurd in a prince on the eve of
+marrying a young and beautiful heiress finding himself deserted by his
+fiancee with her millions; but when one has seen the comic hero of this
+little play, the scene changes. The smile fades from the lips; the jest
+is silent; terror follows in the footsteps of gayety, and the foolish
+freak of the lovely fugitive assumes the formidable proportions of a
+frightful drama. M. de Monbert is not what he is generally supposed to
+be, what I supposed him before seeing him after ten years' separation.
+His blood has been inflamed by torrid suns; he has preserved, in a
+measure, the manners and fierce passions of the distant peoples that he
+has visited; he hides it all under the polish of grace and elegance;
+affable and ready for anything, one would never suspect, to see him, the
+fierce and turbulent passions warring in his breast; he is like those
+wells in India, which he told me of this morning; they are surrounded by
+flowers and luxuriant foliage; go down into one of them and you will
+quickly return pale and horror-stricken. Madame, I assure you that this
+man suffers everything that it is possible to suffer here below. I watch
+his despair; it terrifies me. Wounded love and pride do not alone prey
+upon him; he is aware that Mademoiselle de Chateaudun may believe him
+guilty of serious errors; he demands to be allowed to justify himself in
+her eyes; he is exasperated by the consciousness of his unrecognised
+innocence. Condemn him, if you will, but at least let him be heard in
+his own defence. I have seen him writhe in agony and give way to groans
+of rage and despair. When calm, he is more terrible to contemplate; his
+silence is the pause before a tempest. Yesterday, on returning,
+discouraged, after a whole day spent in fruitless search, he took my
+hand and raised it abruptly to his eyes. "Raymond," said he, "I have
+never wept," and my hand was wet. If you love Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun, if her future happiness is dear to you, if her heart can
+only be touched through you, warn her, madame, warn her immediately;
+tell her plainly what she has to expect; time presses.
+
+It is a question of nothing less than anticipating an irreparable
+misfortune. There is but one step from love to hate; hate which takes
+revenge is still love. Tell this child that she is playing with thunder;
+tell her the thunder mutters, and will soon burst over her head. If
+Mademoiselle de Chateaudun should have a new love for her excuse, if she
+has broken her faith to give it to another, unhappy, thrice unhappy she!
+M. de Monbert has a quick eye and a practised hand; mourning would
+follow swiftly in the wake of her rejoicing, and Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun might order her widow's weeds and her bridal robes at the
+same time.
+
+This, madame, is all that I have to say. The foolish rapture with which
+my last letter teemed is not worth speaking of. A broken hope, crushed,
+extinguished; a happiness vanished ere fully seen! During the four days
+that I was at Richeport, I began to remark the existence between M. de
+Meilhan and myself of a sullen, secret, unavowed but real irritation,
+when a letter from M. de Monbert solved the enigma by convincing me that
+I was in the way under that roof. Fool, why did I not see it myself and
+sooner? Blind that I was, not to perceive from the first that this young
+man loved that woman! Why did I not instantly divine that this young
+poet could not live unscathed near so much beauty, grace and sweetness?
+Did I think, unhappy man that I am, that she was only fair to me; that I
+alone had eyes to admire her, a heart to worship and understand her?
+Yes, I did think it; I believed blindly that she bloomed for me alone;
+that she had not existed before our meeting; that no look, save mine,
+had ever rested upon her; that she was, in fact, my creation; that I
+had formed her of my thoughts, and vivified her with the fire of my
+dreams. Even now, when we are parted for ever, I believe, that if God
+ever created two beings for each other, we are those two beings, and if
+every soul has a sister spirit, her soul is the sister spirit of mine.
+M. de Meilhan loves her; who would not love her? But what he loves in
+her is visible beauty: the slope of her shoulders, the perfection of her
+contours. His love could not withstand a pencil-stroke which might
+destroy the harmony of the whole. Beautiful as she is, he would desert
+her for the first canvas or the first statue he might encounter. Her
+rivals already people the galleries of the Louvre; the museums of the
+world are filled with them. Edgar feels but one deep and true love; the
+love of Art, so deep that it excludes or absorbs all others in his
+heart. A fine prospect alone charms him, if it recalls a landscape of
+Ruysdael or of Paul Huet, and he prefers to the loveliest model, her
+portrait, provided it bears the signature of Ingres or Scheffer. He
+loves this woman as an artist; he has made her the delight of his eyes;
+she would have been the joy of my whole life. Besides, Edgar does not
+possess any of the social virtues. He is whimsical by nature, hostile to
+the proprieties, an enemy to every well-beaten track. His mind is always
+at war with his heart; his sincerest inspirations have the scoffing
+accompaniment of Don Juan's romance. No, he cannot make the happiness of
+this Louise so long sought for, so long hoped for, found, alas! to be
+irremediably lost. Louise deceives herself if she thinks otherwise. But
+she does not think so. What is so agonizing in the necessity that
+separates us, is the conviction that such a separation blasts two
+destinies, silently united. I do not repine at the loss of my own
+happiness alone, but above all, over that of this noble creature. I am
+convinced that when we met, we recognised each other; she mentally
+exclaimed, "It is he!" when I told myself, "It is she!" When I went to
+bid her farewell, a long, eternal farewell, I found her pale, sad; the
+tears rolled, unchecked, down her cheeks. She loves me, I know it; I
+feel it; and still I must depart! she wept and I was forced to be
+silent! One single word would have opened Paradise to us, and that word
+I could not utter! Farewell, sweet dream, vanished for ever! And thou,
+stern and stupid honor, I curse thee while I serve thee, and execrate
+while I sacrifice all to thee. Ah! do not think that I am resigned; do
+not believe that pride can ever fill up the abyss into which I have
+voluntarily cast myself; do not hope that some day I shall find
+self-satisfaction as a recompense for my abnegation. There are moments
+when I hate myself and rebel against my own imbecility. Why depart? What
+is Edgar to me? still less, what interest have I in his love episodes? I
+love; I feel myself loved in return; what have I to do with anything
+else?
+
+Contempt for my cowardly virtue is the only price that I have received
+for my sacrifice, and I twit myself with this thought of Pascal: "Man is
+neither an angel nor a brute, and the misfortune is that when he wishes
+to make himself an angel, he becomes a brute!" Be silent, my heart! At
+least it shall never be said that the descendant of a race of cavaliers
+entered his friend's house to rob him of his happiness.
+
+I am sad, madame. The bright ray seen for a moment, has but made the
+darkness into which I have fallen, more black and sombre; I am
+unutterably sad! What is to become of me? Where shall I drag out my
+weary days? I do not know. Everything wearies and bores me, or rather
+all things are indifferent to me. I think I will travel. Wherever I go,
+your image will accompany me, consoling me, if I can be consoled. At
+first I thought that I would carry you my heart to comfort; but my
+unhappiness is dear to me, and I do not wish to be cured of it.
+
+I press M. de Braimes's hand, and clasp your charming children warmly to
+my heart.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Poste Restante (Rouen).
+
+Richeport, July 23d 18--.
+
+I am mad with rage, wild with grief! That Louise! I do not know what
+keeps me from setting fire to the house that conceals her! I must go
+away; I shall commit some insane act, some crime, if I remain! I have
+written her letter after letter; I have tried in every way to see her;
+all my efforts unavailing! It is like beating your head against a wall!
+Coquette and prude!--appalling combination, too common a monstrosity,
+alas!
+
+She will not see me! all is over! nothing can overcome her stupid,
+obstinacy which she takes for virtue. If I could only have spoken to her
+once, I should have said--I don't know what, but I should have found
+words to make her return to me. But she entrenches herself behind her
+obstinacy; she knows that I would vanquish her; she has no good
+arguments with which to answer me; for I love her madly, desperately,
+frantically! Passion is eloquent. She flies from me! O perfidy and
+cowardice! she dare not face the misery she has caused, and veils her
+eyes when she strikes!
+
+I am going to America. I will dull my mental grief by physical
+exhaustion; I will subdue the soul through the body; I will ascend the
+giant rivers whose bosoms bloom with thousands of islands; penetrate
+into the virgin forests where no trapper has yet set his foot; I will
+hunt the buffalo with the savage, and swim upon that ocean of shaggy
+heads and sharp horns; I will gallop at full speed over the prairie,
+pursued by the smoke of the burning grass. If the memory of Louise
+refuses to leave me, I will stop my horse and await the flames! I will
+carry my love so far away that it must perforce leave me.
+
+I feel it, my life is wrecked for ever!--I cannot live in a world where
+Louise is not mine! Perhaps the young universe may contain a panacea
+for my anguish! Solitude shall pour its balm in my wound; once away from
+this civilization which stifles me, nature will cradle me in her
+motherly arms; the elements will resume their empire over me; ocean,
+sky, flowers, foliage will draw off the feverish electricity that
+excites my nerves; I will become absorbed in the grand whole, I will no
+longer live; I will vegetate and succeed in attaining the content of the
+plant that opens its leaves to the sun. I feel that I must stop my
+brain, suspend the beating of my heart, or I shall go raving mad.
+
+I shall sail from Havre. A year from now write to me at the English fort
+in the Rocky Mountains, and I will join you in whatever corner of the
+globe you have gone to bury your despair over the loss of Irene de
+Chateaudun!
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to_ MADAME GUERIN,
+Pont-de-l'Arche (Eure).
+
+RICHEPORT, July 23d 18--.
+
+Louise, I write to you, although the resolution that I have taken
+should, no doubt, he silently carried out; but the swimmer struggling
+with the waves in mid-ocean cannot help, although he knows it is
+useless, uttering a last wild cry ere he sinks forever beneath the
+flood. Perhaps a sail may appear on the desert horizon and his last
+despairing shout be heard! It is so hard to believe ourselves finally
+condemned and to renounce all hope of pardon! My letter will be of no
+avail, and yet I cannot help sending it.
+
+I am going to leave France, change worlds and skies. My passage is taken
+for America. The murmur of ocean and forest must soothe my despair. A
+great sorrow requires immensity. I would suffocate here. I should
+expect, at every turn, to see your white dress gleaming among the trees.
+Richeport is too much associated with you for me to dwell here longer;
+your memory has exiled me from it for ever. I must put a huge
+impossibility between myself and you; six thousand miles hardly suffice
+to separate us.
+
+If I remained, I should resort to all manner of mad schemes to recover
+my happiness; no one gives up his cherished dream with more reluctance
+than I, especially when a word could make it a reality.
+
+Louise, Louise, why do you avoid me and close your heart against me! You
+have not understood, perhaps, how much I love you? Has not my devotion
+shone in my eyes? I have not been able, perhaps, to convey to you what I
+felt? You have no more comprehended my adoration than the insensate idol
+the prayers of the faithful prostrated before it.
+
+Nevertheless, I was convinced that I could make you happy; I thought
+that I appreciated the longings of your soul, and would be able to
+satisfy them all.
+
+What crime have I committed against heaven to be punished with this
+biting despair? Perhaps I have failed to appreciate some sincere
+affection, repulsed unwittingly some simple, tender heart that your
+coldness now avenges; perhaps you are, unconsciously, the Nemesis of
+some forgotten fault.
+
+How fearful it is to suffer from rejected love! To say to oneself: "The
+loved one exists, far from me, without me; she is young, smiling,
+lovely--to others; my despair is only an annoyance to her, I am
+necessary to her in nothing; my absence leaves no void in her life; my
+death would only provoke from her an expression of careless pity; my
+good and noble qualities have made no impression upon her; my verses,
+the delight of other young hearts, she has never read; my talents are as
+destructive to me as if they were crimes; why seek a hell in another
+world; is it not here?"
+
+And besides, what infinite tenderness, what perpetual care, what timid
+and loving persistence, what obedience to every unexpressed wish, what
+prompt realization of even the slightest fancy! for what! for a careless
+glance, a smile that the thought of another brings to her lips! How can
+it be helped! he who is not beloved is always in the wrong.
+
+I go away, carrying the iron in my wound; I will not drag it out, I
+prefer to die with it. May you live happy, may the fearful suffering
+that you have caused me never be expiated. I would have it so; society
+punishes murder of the body, heaven punishes murders of the soul. May
+your hidden assassination escape Divine vengeance as long as possible.
+
+Farewell, Louise, farewell.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+PARIS, July 27th 18--.
+
+Valentine, I am very uneasy. Why have I not heard from you for a month?
+Are you in any trouble? Is one of your dear children ill? Are you no
+longer at Grenoble? Have you taken your trip without me? The last would
+be the most acceptable reason for your silence. You have not received my
+letters, and ignorance of my sorrows accounts for your not writing to
+console me. Yet never have I been in greater need of the offices of
+friendship. The resolution I have just taken fills me with alarm. I
+acted against my judgment, but I could not do otherwise. I was
+influenced by an agonized mother, whose hallowed grief persuaded me
+against my will to espouse her interests. Why have I not a friend here
+to interpose in my behalf and save me from myself? But, after all, does
+it make any difference what becomes of me? Hope is dead within me. I no
+longer dream of happiness. At last the sad mystery is explained.... M.
+de Villiers is not free; he is engaged to his cousin.... Oh, he does not
+love her, I am sure, but he is a slave to his plighted troth, and of
+course she loves him and will not release him ... Can he, for a
+stranger, sacrifice family ties and a love dating from his childhood?
+Ah! if he really loved me, he would have had the courage to make this
+sacrifice; but he only felt a tender sympathy for me, lively enough to
+fill him with everlasting regret, not strong enough to inspire him with
+a painful resolution. Thus two beings created for each other meet for a
+moment, recognise one another, and then, unwillingly, separate, carrying
+in their different paths of life a burden of eternal regrets! And they
+languish apart in their separate spheres, unhappy and attached to
+nothing but the memory of the past--made wretched for life by the
+accidents of a day!
+
+They are as the passengers of different ships, meeting for an hour in
+the same port, who hastily exchange a few words of sympathy, then pass
+away to other latitudes, under other skies--some to the North, others to
+the South, to the land of ice--to the cradle of the sun--far, far away
+from each other, to die. Is it then true that I shall never see him
+again? Oh, my God! how I loved him! I can never forgive him for not
+accepting this love that I was ready to lavish upon him.
+
+I will now tell you what I have resolved to do. If I waver a moment I
+shall not have the courage to keep my promise. Madame de Meilhan is
+coming after me; I could not, after causing her such sorrow, resist the
+tears of this unhappy mother. She was in despair; her son had suddenly
+left her, and in spite of the secrecy of his movements, she discovered
+that he was at Havre and had taken passage there for America, on the
+steamer Ontario. She hoped to reach Havre in time to see her son, and
+she relied upon me to bring him home. I am distressed at causing her so
+much uneasiness, but what can I say to console her? I will at best be
+generous; Edgar's sorrow is like my own; as he suffers for me, I suffer
+for another; I cannot see his anguish, so like my own, without profound
+pity; this pity will doubtless inspire me with eloquence enough to
+persuade him to remain in France and not break his mother's heart by
+desertion. Besides, I have promised, and Madame de Meilhan relies upon
+me. How beautiful is maternal love! It crushes the loftiest pride, it
+overthrows with one cry the most ambitious plans; this haughty woman is
+subjugated by grief; she calls me her daughter; she gladly consents to
+this marriage which, a short time ago, she said would ruin her son's
+prospects, and which she looked upon with horror; she weeps, she
+supplicates. This morning she embraced me with every expression of
+devotion and cried out: "Give me back my son! Oh, restore to me my
+son!... You love him, ... he loves you, ... he is handsome, charming,
+talented.... I shall never see him again if you let him go away; tell
+him you love him; have you the cruelty to deprive me of my only son?"
+What could I say? how could I make an idolizing mother understand that I
+did not love her son?... If I had dared to say, "It is not he that I
+love, it is another," ... she would have said: "It is false; there is
+not a man on earth preferable to my son." She wept over the letter that
+Edgar wrote me before leaving. Valentine, this letter was noble and
+touching. I could not restrain my own tears when I read it. Finally, I
+was forced to yield. I am to accompany Madame de Meilhan to Havre; I
+hope we will reach there before the steamer leaves!... Edgar will not go
+to America, ... and I!... Oh, why is he the one to love me thus?... She
+has come for me! Adieu; write to me, my dear Valentine, ... I am so
+miserable. If you were only here! What will become of me? Adieu!
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+Paris, Aug. 2d 18--.
+
+It is fortunate for me to-day, my dear Valentine, that I have the
+reputation of being a truthful person, professing a hatred of falsehood,
+otherwise you would not believe the strange facts that I am about to
+relate to you. I now expect to reap the fruits of my unvarying
+sincerity. Having always shown such respect for truth, I deserve to be
+believed when I assert what appears to be incredible.
+
+What startling events have occurred in a few hours! My destiny has been
+changed by my peeping through a hole!! Without one word of comment I
+will state exactly what happened, and you must not accuse me of highly
+coloring my pictures; they are lively enough in themselves without any
+assistance from me. Far from adding to their brilliancy, I shall
+endeavor to tone them down and give them an air of probability. We left
+Pont de l'Arche the other day with sad and anxious hearts; during the
+journey Mad. de Meilhan, as if doubting the strength of my resolution
+and the ardor of my devotion, dilated enthusiastically upon the merits
+of her son. She boasted of his generosity, of his disinterestedness and
+sincerity; she mentioned the names of several wealthy young ladies whom
+he had refused to marry during the last two or three years. She spoke of
+his great success as a poet and a brilliant man. She impressed upon me
+that a noble love could exercise such a happy influence upon his genius,
+and said it was in my power to make him a good and happy man for life,
+by accepting this love, which she described to me in such touching
+language, that I felt moved and impressed, if not with love, at least
+with tender appreciation. She said Edgar had never loved any one as he
+had loved me--this passion had changed all his ideas--he lived for me
+alone. To indure him to listen to any one it was necessary to bring my
+name in the conversation so as to secure his ear; he spent his days and
+nights composing poems in my honor. He should have returned to Paris in
+response to the beautiful Marquise de R.'s sighs and smiles, but he
+never had the courage to leave me; for me he had pitilessly sacrificed
+this woman, who was lovely, witty and the reigning belle of Paris. She
+mournfully told me of the wild foolish things he would do upon his
+return to Richeport, after having made fruitless attempts to see me at
+Pont de l'Arche; his cruelty to his favorite horse, his violence against
+the flowers along the path, that he would cut to pieces with his whip;
+his sullen, mute despair; his extravagant talk to her; her own
+uneasiness; her useless prayers; and finally this fatal departure that
+she had vainly endeavored to prevent. She saw that I was affected by
+what she said, she seized my hand and called down blessing's upon me,
+thanking me a thousand times passionately and imperiously, as if to
+compel me to accede to her wishes.
+
+I sorrowfully reflected upon all this trouble that I had caused, and was
+frightened at the conviction that I had by a few engaging smiles and a
+little harmless coquetry inspired so violent a passion. Thinking thus, I
+did justice to Edgar, and acknowledged that some reparation was due to
+him. He must have taken all these deceptive smiles to himself; when I
+first arrived at Pont de l'Arche, I had no scruples about being
+attractive, I expected to leave in a few days never to return again.
+Since then I had without pity refused his love, it is true; but could he
+believe this proud disdain to be genuine, when, after this decisive
+explanation, he found me tranquilly established at his mother's house?
+And there could he follow the different caprices of my mind, divine
+those temptations of generosity which first moved me in his favor, and
+then discover this wild love that was suddenly born in my soul for a
+phantom that I had only seen for a few hours?.... Had he not, on the
+contrary, a right to believe that I loved him, and to exclaim against
+the infamy, cruelty and perfidy of my refusing to see him, and my
+endeavors to convince him that I cared nothing for him? He was right to
+accuse me, for appearances were all against me--my own conduct condemned
+me. I must acknowledge myself culpable, and submit to the sentence that
+has been pronounced against me. I resigned myself sadly to repair the
+wrong I had committed. One hope still remained to me: Edgar brought back
+by me would be restored to his mother, but Edgar would cease to love me
+when he knew my real name. There is a difference between loving an
+adventuress, whose affections can be trifled with, and loving a woman of
+high birth and position, who must be honorably sought in marriage. Edgar
+has an invincible repugnance to matrimony; he considers this august
+institution as a monstrous inconvenience, very immoral, a profane
+revelation of the most sacred secrets of life; he calls it a public
+exhibition of affection; he says no one has a right to proclaim his
+preference for one woman. To call a woman: my wife! what revolting
+indiscretion! To call children: my children! what disgusting fatuity! In
+his eyes nothing is more horrible than a husband driving in the Champs
+Elysees with his family, which is tantamount to telling the passers-by:
+This woman seated by my side is the one I have chosen among all women,
+and to whom I am indebted for all pleasure in life; and this little girl
+who resembles her so much, and this little boy, the image of me, are the
+bonds of love between us. The Orientals, he added, whom we call
+barbarians, are more modest than we; they shut up their wives; they
+never appear in public with them, they never let any one see the objects
+of their tenderness, and they introduce young men of twenty, not as
+their sons, but as the heirs of their names and fortunes.
+
+Recalling these remarkable sentiments of M. de Meilhan, I said to
+myself: he will never marry. But Mad. de Meilhan, who was aware of her
+son's peculiar thoeries, assured me that they were very much modified,
+and that one day in speaking of me, he had angrily exclaimed: "Oh! I
+wish I were her husband, so I could shut her up, and prevent any one
+seeing her!" Now I understand why a man marries! This was not very
+reassuring, but I devoted myself like a victim, and for a victim there
+is no half sacrifice. Generosity, like cruelty, is absolute.
+
+After a night of anxious travel, we reached Havre at about ten in the
+morning. We drove rapidly to the office of the American steamers. Madame
+de Meilhan rushed frantically about until she found the sleepy clerk,
+who told her that M. de Meilhan had taken passage on the _Ontario_.
+
+"When does this vessel leave?"
+
+"I cannot tell you," said the gaping clerk.
+
+We ran to the pier and tremblingly asked: "Can you tell us if the
+American vessel _Ontario_ sails to-day?"
+
+The old sailor replied to us in nautical language which we could not
+understand. Another man said: "The _Ontario_ is pretty far out by this
+time!" We ran to the other end of the pier and found a crowd of people
+watching a cloud that was gradually disappearing in the distance. "I see
+nothing now," said one of the people. But I saw a little ... little
+smoke ... and I could distinctly see a flag with a large O on it....
+Madame de Meilhan, pale and breathless, had not the strength to ask the
+name of the fatal vessel that was almost out of sight ... I could only
+gasp out the word "_Ontario?"_ ...
+
+"Precisely so, madame, but don't be uneasy ... it is a fast vessel, and
+your friends will land in America before two weeks are passed. You look
+astonished, but it is the truth, the _Ontario_ is never behind time!"
+Madame de Meilhan fell fainting in my arms. She was lifted to our
+carriage and soon restored to consciousness, but was so overcome that
+she seemed incapable of comprehending the extent of her misfortune. We
+drove to the nearest hotel, and I remained in her room silently weeping
+and reproaching myself for having destroyed the happiness of this
+family.
+
+During these first moments of stupor Madame de Meilhan showed no
+indignation at my presence; but no sooner had she recovered the use of
+her senses than she burst into a storm of abuse; calling me a detestable
+intriguer, a low adventuress who, by my stage tricks, had turned the
+head of her noble son; I would be the cause of his death--that fatal
+country would never give back her son; what a pity to see so superior a
+man, a pride and credit to his country, perish, succumb, to the snares
+of an obscure prude, who had not the sense to be his mistress, who was
+incapable of loving him for a single day; an ambitious schemer, who had
+determined to entrap him into marriage, but unhesitatingly sacrificed
+him to M. de Villiers as soon as she found M. de Villiers was the richer
+of the two, ... and many other flattering accusations she made, that
+were equally ill-deserved. I quietly listened to all this abuse, and
+went on preparing a glass of _eau sucree_ for the poor weeping fury,
+whose conduct inspired me with generous pity. When she had finished her
+tirade, I silently handed her the orange water to calm her anger, and I
+looked at her ... my look expressed such firm gentle pride, such
+generous indulgence, such invulnerable dignity, that she felt herself
+completely disarmed. She took my hand and said, as she dried her tears:
+"You must forgive me, I am _so_ unhappy!" Then I tried to console her; I
+told her I would write to her son, and she would soon have him back, as
+my letter would reach New York by the time he landed, and then it would
+only take him two weeks to return. This promise calmed her; then I
+persuaded her to lie down and recover from the fatigue of travelling all
+night. When I saw her poor swollen eyelids fairly closed, I left her to
+enjoy her slumbers and retired to my own room. I rested awhile and then
+rang to order preparations for our departure; but instead of the servant
+answering the bell, a pretty little girl, about eight years old, entered
+my room; upon seeing me she drew back frightened.
+
+"What do you want, my child?" I said, drawing her within the door.
+
+"Nothing, madame," she said.
+
+"But you must have come here for something?"
+
+"I did not know that madame was in her room."
+
+"What did you come to do in here?"
+
+"I came, as I did yesterday, to see."
+
+"To see what?"
+
+"In there ... the Turks ..."
+
+"The Turks? What! am I surrounded by Turks?"
+
+"Oh! they are not in the little room adjoining yours; but through this
+little room you can look into the large saloon where they all stay and
+have music ... will madame permit me to pass through?"
+
+"Which way?"
+
+"This way. There is a little door behind this toilet-table; I open it,
+go in, get up on the table and look at the Turks."
+
+The child rolled aside the toilet-table, entered the little room, and in
+a few minutes came running back to me and exclaimed:
+
+"Oh! they are so beautiful! does not madame wish to see them?"
+
+"No."
+
+In a short time she returned again.
+
+"The musicians are all asleep," she said ... "but, madame, the Turks are
+crazy--they don't sleep--they don't speak--they make horrible
+faces--they roll their eyes--they have such funny ways--one of them
+looks like my uncle when he has the fever--Oh! that one must be crazy,
+madame-- ... look, he is going to dance! now he is going to die!"
+
+The absurd prattle of the child finally aroused my curiosity. I went
+into the little room, and, mounting the table beside her, looked through
+a crevice in the wooden partition and clearly saw everything in the
+large saloon. It was hung up to a certain height with rich Turkish
+stuffs. The floor was covered by a superb Smyrna carpet. In one recess
+of the room the musicians were sleeping with their bizarre musical
+instruments tightly clasped in their arms. A dozen Turks, magnificently
+dressed, were seated on the soft carpet in Oriental fashion, that is to
+say, after the manner of tailors. They were supported by piles of
+cushions of all sizes and shapes, and seemed to be plunged in ecstatic
+oblivion.
+
+One of these dreamy sons of Aurora attracted my attention by his
+brilliant costume and flashing arms. By the pale light of the exhausted
+lamps and the faint rays of dawning day, almost obscured by the heavy
+drapery of the windows, I could scarcely distinguish the features of
+this splendid Mussulman, at the same time I thought I had seen him
+before. I had seen but few pachas during my life, but I certainly had
+met this one somewhere, I looked attentively and saw that his hands were
+whiter than those of his compatriots--this was a suspicious fact. After
+closely watching this doubtful infidel, this amateur barbarian, I began
+to suspect civilization and Europeanism.... One of the musicians asleep
+near the window, turned over and his long guitar--a _guzla_, I think it
+is called--caught in the curtain and drew it a little open; the sunlight
+streamed in the room and an accusing ray fell upon the face of the
+spurious young Turk.... It was Edgar de Meilhan! A little cup filled
+with a greenish conserve rested on a cushion near by. I remembered that
+he had often spoken to me of the wonderful effects of hashish, and of
+the violent desire he had of experiencing this fascinating stupefaction;
+he had also told me of one of his college friends who had been living in
+Smyrna for some years; an original, who had taken upon himself the
+mission of re-barbarizing the East. This friend had sent him a number of
+Indian poinards and Turkish pipes, and had promised him some tobacco and
+hashish. This modern and amateur Turk was named Arthur Granson.... I
+asked the innkeeper's little daughter if she knew the name of the man
+who had hired the saloon? She said yes, that he was named Monsieur
+Granson.... This name and this meeting explained everything.
+
+O Valentine! I will be sincere to the end, ... and confess that Edgar
+was wonderfully handsome in this costume!... the magnificent oriental
+stuff, the Turkish vest, embroidered in gold and silver, the yatagans,
+pistols and poinards studded with jewels, the turban draped with
+inimitable art--all these things gave him a majestic, superb, imposing
+aspect!... which at first astonished me, ... for we are all children
+when we first see beautiful objects, ... but he had a stupid look....
+No, never did a sultan of the opera, throwing his handkerchief to his
+bayadere ... a German prince of the gymnasium complimented by his
+court--a provincial Bajazet listening to the threatening declarations of
+Roxana--never did they display in the awkwardness of their roles, in the
+stiffness of their movements, an attitude more absurdly ridiculous, an
+expression of countenance more ideally stupid. It is difficult to
+comprehend how a brilliant mind could so completely absent itself from
+its dwelling-place without leaving on the face it was wont to animate, a
+single trace, a faint ray of intelligence! Edgar had his eyes raised to
+the ceiling, ... and for an instant I think I caught his look, ... but
+Heavens! what a look! May I never meet such another! I shall add one
+more incident to my recital--important in itself but distasteful to me
+to relate--I will tell it in as few words as possible: Edgar was leaning
+on two piles of cushions; he seemed to be absorbed in the contemplation
+of invisible stars; he was awake, but a beautiful African slave, dressed
+like an Indian queen, was sleeping at his feet!
+
+This strange spectacle filled my heart with joy. Instead of being
+indignant, I was delighted at this insult to myself. Edgar evidently
+forgot me, and truly he had a right to forget me; I was not engaged to
+him as I had been to Roger. A young poet has a right to dress like a
+Turk, and amuse himself with his friends, to suit his own fancy; but a
+noble prince has no right to scandalize the public when the dignity of
+his rank has to be striven after and recovered; when the glory of his
+name is to be kept untarnished. Oh! this disgusting sight gave rise to
+no angry feeling in my bosom, I at once comprehended the advantages of
+the situation. No more sacrifice, no more remorse, no more hypocrisy! I
+was free; my future was restored to me. Oh, the good Edgar! Oh, the dear
+poet! How I loved him ... for not loving me!!
+
+I told the little girl to run quickly and bring me a servant. When the
+man came I handed him six louis to sharpen his wits, and then solemnly
+gave him my orders: "When they ring for you in that saloon, do you tell
+that young Turk with a red vest on ... you will remember him?" "Yes,
+madame." "You will tell him that the countess his mother is waiting here
+for him, in room No. 7, at the end of the corridor." "Ah! the lady who
+was weeping so bitterly?" "The same one." "Madame may rely upon me."
+
+I then paid my bill, and, inquiring the quickest way of leaving Havre, I
+fled from the hotel. Walking along Grande Rue de Paris, I saw with
+pleasure that the city was filled with strangers, who had come to take
+part in the festivities that were taking place at Havre, and that I
+could easily mingle in this great crowd and leave the town without being
+observed. Uneasy and agitated, I hurried along, and just as I was
+passing the theatre I heard some one call me. Imagine my alarm when I
+distinctly heard some one call: "Mlle. Irene! Mlle. Irene!" I was so
+frightened that I could scarcely move. The call was repeated, and I saw
+my faithful Blanchard rushing towards me, breathless and then I
+recognised the supplicating voice ... I turned around and weeping, she
+exclaimed: "I know everything, Mlle., you are going to America! Take me
+with you. This is the first time I have ever been separated from you
+since your birth!" I had left the poor woman at Pont de l'Arche, and
+she, thinking I was going to America, had followed me. "Be quiet and
+follow me," said I, forgetting to tell her that I was not going to
+America. I reached the wharf and jumped into a boat; the unhappy
+Blanchard, who is a hydrophobe, followed me. "You are afraid?" said I.
+"Oh, no, Mlle., I am afraid on the Seine, but at sea it is quite a
+different thing." The touching delicacy of this ingenious conceit moved
+me to tears. Wishing to shorten the agony of this devoted friend, I told
+the oarsman to row us into the nearest port, instead of going further by
+water, as I had intended, in order to avoid the Rouen route and the
+Prince, the steamboat and M. de Meilhan. As soon as we landed I sent my
+faithful companion to the nearest village to hire a carriage, "I must be
+in Paris, to-morrow," said I. "Then we are not going to America?" "No."
+"So much the better," said she, as she trotted off in high glee to look
+for a carriage. I remained alone, gazing at the ocean. Oh! how I enjoyed
+the sight! How I would love to live on this charming, terrible azure
+desert! I was so absorbed in admiration that I soon forgot my worldly
+troubles and the rain tribulations of my obscure life. I was intoxicated
+by its wild perfume, its free, invigorating air! I breathed for the
+first time! With what delight I let the sea-breeze blow my hair about my
+burning brow! How I loved to gaze on its boundless horizon! How
+much--laugh at my vanity--how much I felt at home in this immensity! I
+am not one of those modest souls that are oppressed and humiliated by
+the grandeur of Nature; I only feel in harmony with the sublime, not
+through myself, but through the aspirations of my mind. I never feel as
+if there was around me, above me, before me, too much air, too much
+height, too much space. I like the boundless, luminous horizon to render
+solitude and liberty invisible to my eyes.
+
+I know not if every one else is impressed as I was upon seeing the ocean
+for the first time. I felt released from all ties, purified of all
+hatred, and even of all earthly love; I was freed, calm, strong, armed,
+ready to brave all the evils of life, like a being who had received from
+God a right to disdain the world. The ocean and the sky have this good
+effect upon us--they wean us from worldly pleasures.
+
+Upon reaching Paris, I went at once to your father's to inquire about
+you, and had my uneasiness about you set at rest. You must have left
+Geneva by this time; I hope soon to receive a letter from you. I am not
+staying with my cousin. I am living in my dear little garret. I wish a
+long time to elapse before I again become Mlle. de Chateaudun. I wish
+time to recover from the rude shocks I have had. What do you think of my
+last experience? What a perfect success was my theory of discouragement!
+Alas! too perfect. First trial: Western despair and champagne! Second
+trial: Eastern despair and hashisch!--Not to speak of the consolatory
+accessories, snowy-armed beauties and ebony-armed slaves! I would be
+very unsophisticated indeed if I did not consider myself sufficiently
+enlightened. I implore you not to speak to me of your hero whom you wish
+me to marry; I am determined never to marry. I shall love an image,
+cherish a star. The little light has returned. I see it shining as I
+write to you. Yes, these poetic loves are all-sufficient for my wounded
+soul. One thing disturbs me; they have cut down the large trees in front
+of my window. To-morrow, perhaps, I shall at last see the being that
+dwells in this fraternal garret.... Valentine--suppose it should be my
+long-sought ideal!... I tremble! perhaps a third disenchantment awaits
+me.... Good-night, my dear Valentine, I embrace you. I am very tired,
+but very happy ... it is so delightful to be relieved of all uneasiness,
+to feel that you are not compelled to console any one.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Poste Restante (Rouen).
+
+PARIS, July 27th 18--.
+
+My dear Roger, at the risk of bringing down upon my head the ridicule
+merited by men who fire a pistol above their heads after having left on
+their table the night before the most thrilling adieux to the world, I
+must confess that I have not gone; you have a perfect right to drive me
+out of Europe; I promised to go to America, and you can compel me to
+fulfil my promise; be clement, do not overpower me with ridicule; do not
+riddle me with the fire of your mocking artillery; my sorrow, even
+though I remain in the old world, is none the less crushing.
+
+I must tell you how it all happened.
+
+As all my life I have never been able to comprehend the division of
+time, and it's a toss-up whether I distinguish day from night, I turned
+my back on the best hotel in Havre, and stopped at one nearest the
+wharf, from whence I could see the smoke-stacks of the Ontario, about to
+sail for New York. I was leaning on the balcony, in the melancholy
+attitude of Raphael's portrait, gazing at the swell of the ocean, with
+that feeling of infinite sadness which the strongest heart must yield to
+in the presence of that immensity formed of drops of bitter water, like
+human tears. I followed, listlessly, with my eyes the movements of a
+strange group which had just landed from the Portsmouth packet. They
+were richly-dressed Orientals, followed by negro servants and women
+enveloped in long veils.
+
+One of these Turks looked up as he passed under my window, saw me, and
+exclaimed in very correct French, with a decided Parisian accent: "Why,
+it's Edgar de Meilhan!" and, regardless of Oriental dignity, he dashed
+into the inn, bounded into my room, rubbed my face against his crisp
+black beard, punched me in the stomach with the carved hilts of a
+complete collection of yataghans and kandjars, and finally said, seeing
+my uncertainty: "Why! don't you know me, your old college chum, your
+playmate in childhood, Arthur Granson! Does my turban make such a change
+in me? So much the better! Or are you mean enough to stick to the letter
+of the proverb which pretends that friends are not Turks? By Allah and
+his prophet Mahomet, I shall prove to you that Turks are friends."
+
+During this flood of words I had in truth recognised Arthur Granson, a
+good and odd young fellow, whom I am very fond of, and who would surely
+please you, for he is the most paradoxical youth to be found in the five
+divisions of the globe. And, what is very rare, he acts out his
+paradoxes, a whim which his great independence of character and above
+all a large fortune permit him to indulge, for gold is liberty; the only
+slaves are the poor.
+
+"This much is settled, I will install myself here with my living palette
+of local colors;" and without giving me time to answer him, he left me
+to give the necessary orders for lodging his suite.
+
+When he returned, I said to him: "What does this strange masquerade
+mean? The carnival has been over for some time, and will not return
+immediately, as we are hardly through the summer." "It is not a
+masquerade," replied Arthur, with a dogmatic coolness and transcendental
+gravity which at any other time would have made me laugh. "It is a
+complete system, which I shall unfold to you."
+
+Whereupon my friend, taking off his Turkish slippers, crossed his legs
+on the divan in the approved classic attitude of the Osmanli, and
+running his fingers through his beard, spoke as follows:
+
+"During my travels I have observed that no people appreciate the
+peculiar beauties of the country they inhabit. No one admires his own
+physiognomy; every one would like to resemble some one else. Spaniards
+and Turks make endless excuses for being handsome and picturesque. The
+Andalusian apologizes to you for not wearing a coat and round hat. The
+Arnaout, whose costume is the most gorgeous and elegant that has ever
+been worn by the human form divine, sighs as he gazes at your overcoat,
+and consults with himself upon the advisability of shooting you to get
+possession of it, in the first mountain gorge where he may meet you
+alone or poorly attended. Civilization is the natural enemy of beauty.
+All its creations are ugly. Barbarism--or rather relative barbarism--has
+found the secret of form and color. Man living so near to Nature
+imitates her harmony, and finds the types of his garments and his
+utensils in his surroundings. Mathematics have not yet developed their
+straight lines, dry angles and painful aridity. Now-a-days, picturesque
+traditions are lost, the long pantaloon has invaded the universe;
+frightful fashion-plates circulate everywhere; now, I refuse to believe
+that man's taste has become perverted to such a degree that if he were
+shown costumes combining elegance with richness, he would not prefer
+them to hideous modern rags. Having made these judicious and profound
+reflections, I felt as if I had been enlightened from above, and the
+secret of my earthly mission revealed to me; I had come into the world
+to preach costume, and, as you see, I preach it by example. Reflecting
+that Turkey is the country most menaced by the overcoat and stove-pipe
+hat, I went to Constantinople to bring about a reaction in favor of the
+embroidered vest and the turban. My grave studies upon the subject, my
+fortune and my taste have enabled me to attain the _ne plus ultra_ of
+style.
+
+"I doubt whether a Sultan ever possessed so splendid or so
+characteristic a wardrobe. I discovered among the bazaars of the cities
+least infected by the modern spirit, some tailors with a profound
+contempt for Frank fashions, who, with their tremulous hands, performed
+marvels of cutting and embroidery. I will show you caftans braided in a
+miserable little out-of-the-way village of Asia Minor, by some poor
+devils whom you would not trust with your dog, which surpass, in
+intricacy of design, the purest arabesques of the Alhambra, and in
+color, the most gorgeous peacock tails of Eugene Delacroix or Narciso
+Ruy Diaz de la Pena, a great painter, who out of commiseration for the
+commonalty only makes use of a quarter of his name.
+
+"I am happy to say that my apostleship has not been without fruit. I
+have brought back to the dolman more than one young Osmanli about to rig
+himself out at Buisson's; I have saved more than one horse of the Nedji
+race from the insult of an English saddle; more than one tipsy Turk
+addicted to champagne has returned to opium at my suggestion. Some
+Georgians who were about to be admitted to the balls of the European
+embassies are indebted to me for being shut up closer than ever. I
+impressed upon these degenerate Orientals the disastrous results of such
+a breach of propriety. I persuaded the Sultan Abdul Medjid to give up
+the idea of introducing the guillotine into his empire. Without
+flattering myself, I think I have done a great deal of good, and if
+there were only a few more gay fellows like myself we should prevent
+people from making guys of themselves--And what are you doing, my dear
+Edgar?" "I am going to America, and I am waiting for the Ontario to get
+up steam," "That's a good idea! You can become a savage and resuscitate
+the last Mohican of Fenimore Cooper. I already see you, with a blue
+turtle on your breast, eagle's feathers in your scalp, and moccasins
+worked with porcupine quills. You will be very handsome; with your sad
+air you will look as if you were weeping over your dead race. If I had
+not been away for four years, I would accompany you, but I was in such a
+hurry to put my affairs in order, that I have returned to France by way
+of England, in order to avoid the quarantine. I will admit you to my
+religion; you shall become my disciple; I preserve barbaric costumes,
+you shall preserve savage costumes. It is not so handsome, but it is
+more characteristic. There were some Indians on our steamer; I studied
+them; they are the people to suit you. But, before your departure, we
+will indulge in an Eastern orgie in the purest style." "My dear Granson,
+I am not in a humor to take part in an orgie, even though it be an
+Eastern orgie; I am desperately sad." "Very well; I see that you are;
+some heart sorrow; you Occidentals are always in a state of torment
+about some woman; which would never occur if they were all shut up; it
+is dangerous to let such animals wander about. I am delighted that you
+are so sad and melancholy. I can now prove to you the superior efficacy
+of my exhilarating means. I found at Cairo, in the Teriaki Square,
+opposite the hospital for the insane--wasn't it a profoundly
+philosophical idea to establish in such a place dealers in
+happiness?--an old scamp, dry as a papyrus of the time of Amenoteph,
+shrivelled as the beards of the Pschent of the goddess Isis; this
+cabalistic druggist possessed the true receipt for the preparation of
+hashisch; besides, he seemed old enough to have gotten it direct from
+the Old Man of the Mountain, if he were not himself the Prince of
+Assassins who lived in the time of Saint Louis; this skeleton in a
+parchment case furnished me with a quantity of paradise, under the guise
+of green paste, in little Japanese cups done up in silver wire. I intend
+to initiate you into these hypercelestial delights. I shall give you a
+box of happiness, which will make you forget all the false coquettes in
+the world."
+
+Without listening to my repeated refusals, Granson begged me to call him
+henceforth Sidi-Mahmoud; had his room spread with Persian rugs, ottomans
+piled up in every direction, the walls cushioned to lean against, and
+perfumes scattered about; three or four dusky musicians placed
+themselves in a convenient recess with taraboucks, rebeks and guzlas--an
+Ethiopean, naked to the waist, served us the precious drug on a red
+lacquered waiter.
+
+To accommodate Granson I swallowed several spoonfuls of this greenish
+confection, which, at first, seemed to be flavored with honey and
+pistachio. I had dressed myself--for Granson is one of those obstinate
+idiots that one is compelled to yield to in order to get rid of--in an
+Anatolian costume of fabulous richness, my friend insisting that when
+one ascends to Paradise he should not be annoyed by the slope of his
+sleeves.
+
+In a few moments I felt a slight warmth in my stomach--my body threw off
+sparks and flared up like a bank-bill in the flame of a candle; I was
+subject to no law of nature; weight, bulk, opacity had entirely
+disappeared. I retained my form, but it became transparent; flexible,
+fluid objects passed through me without inconveniencing me in the least;
+I could enlarge or decrease myself to suit any place I wished to occupy.
+I could transport myself at will from one place to another. I was in an
+impossible world, lighted by a gleam of azure grotto, in the centre of a
+bouquet of fire-works formed of everchanging sheafs, luminous flowers
+with gold and silver foliage, and calices of rubies, sapphires and
+diamonds; fountains of melted moonbeams, throwing their spray over
+crystal vases, which sang with voices like a harmonica the arias of the
+greatest singers. A symphony of perfumes followed this first
+enchantment, which vanished in a shower of spangles at the end of a few
+seconds; the theme was a faint odor of iris and acacia bloom which
+pursued, avoided, crossed and embraced each other with delicious ease
+and grace. If anything in this world can give you an approximative idea
+of this exquisitely perfumed movement, it is the dance for the piccolos
+in the Almee of Felicien David.
+
+As the movement increased in sweetness and charm, the two perfumes took
+the shape of the flowers from which they emanated; two irises and two
+bunches of acacia bloomed in a marvellously transparent onyx vase; soon
+the irises scintillated like two blue stars, the acacia flowers
+dissolved into a golden stream, the onyx vase assumed a female shape,
+and I recognised the lovely face and graceful form of Louise Guerin, but
+idealized, passed to the state of Beatrice; I am not certain that there
+did not rise from her white shoulders a pair of angel's wings--she gazed
+so sadly and kindly at me that I felt my eyes fill with tears--she
+seemed to regret being in heaven; from the expression of her face one
+might have thought that she accused me, and at the same time entreated
+my forgiveness.
+
+I will not take you through the various windings of this marvellous
+open-eyed dream; the monotonous harmony of the tarabouck and the rebek
+faintly reached my ear, and served as rhythm to this wonderful poem,
+which will, henceforth, make Homer, Virgil, Ariosto and Tasso as
+wearisome to read as a table of logarithms. All my senses had changed
+places; I saw music and heard colors; I had new perceptions, as the
+denizens of a planet superior to ours must have; at will, my body was
+composed of a ray, a perfume or a sweet savor; I experienced the ecstasy
+of the angels fused in divine light, for the effect of hashisch bears no
+resemblance whatever to that of wine and alcohol, by the use of which
+the people of the North debase and stupefy themselves; its intoxication
+is purely intellectual.
+
+Little by little order was established in my brain. I began to observe
+objects around me.
+
+The candles had burned down to the socket; the musicians slept, tenderly
+embracing their instruments. The handsome negress lay at my feet. I had
+taken her for a cushion. A pale ray of light appeared on the horizon; it
+was three o'clock in the morning. All at once a smoke-stack, puffing
+forth black smoke, crossed the bar; it was the _Ontario_ leaving its
+moorings.
+
+A confusion of voices was heard in the next room; my mother, having in
+some way learnt of my projected exile, had broken through Granson's
+orders to admit no one, and was calling for me.
+
+I was rather mortified at being caught in such an absurd dress; but my
+mother observed nothing; she had but one thought, that I was about to
+leave her for ever. I do not remember what she said, such things cannot
+be written, the endearments she bestowed upon me when I was only five or
+six years old; finally she wept. I promised to stay and return to Paris.
+How can you refuse your mother anything when she weeps? Is she not the
+only woman whom we can never reproach?
+
+After all, as you have said, Paris is the wildest desert; there you are
+completely alone. Indifferent and unknown people may value sands and
+swamps.
+
+If my sorrow prove too tenacious, I shall ask my friend Arthur Granson
+for the address of the old Teriaki, and I shall send to Cairo for some
+boxes of forgetfulness. We will share them together if you wish.
+Farewell, dear Roger, I am yours mind and heart,
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+PARIS, July 30th 18--.
+
+O day of bliss unutterable! I have found her, it is she! As you have
+opened your heart to my sadness, madame, open it to my joy. Forget the
+unhappy wretch who, a few days ago, abandoned himself to his grief, who
+even yesterday bade an eternal farewell to hope. That unfortunate has
+ceased to exist; in his place appears a young being intoxicated with
+love, for whom life is full of delight and enchantment. How does it
+happen that my soul, which should soar on hymns of joy, is filled with
+gloomy forebodings? Is it because man is not made for great felicity, or
+that happiness is naturally sad, nearer akin to tears than to laughter,
+because it feels its fragility and instinctively dreads the approaching
+expiation?
+
+After having vainly searched for Mademoiselle de Chateaudun within the
+walls of Rouen, M. de Monbert decided, on receipt of some new
+information, to seek her among the old chateaux of Brittany. My sorrow,
+feeding upon itself, counselled me not to accompany him. The fact is
+that I could be of no earthly use in his search. Besides, I thought I
+perceived that my presence embarrassed him. To tell the truth, we were a
+constraint upon each other. Every sorrowful heart willingly believes
+itself the centre of the universe, and will not admit the existence,
+under heaven, of any other grief than its own. I let the Prince depart,
+and set out alone for Paris. One last hope remained; I persuaded myself
+that if Louise had not loved M. de Meilhan she would have left Richeport
+at the same time that I did.
+
+I got out at Pont de l'Arche, and prowled like a felon about the scenes
+where happiness had come to me.
+
+I wandered about for an hour, when I saw the letter-carrier coming to
+the post-office for the letters to be delivered at the neighboring
+chateaux. Paler and more tremulous than the silvery foliage of the
+willows on the river shore, I questioned him and learned that Madame
+Guerin was still at Richeport. I went away with death in my heart; in
+the evening I reach Paris. Resolved to see no one in that city, and only
+intending to pass a few days in solitude and silence, I sought no other
+abode than the little room which I had occupied in less fortunate but
+happier times. I wished to resume my old manner of living; but I had no
+taste for anything. When one goes in pursuit of happiness, the way is
+smiling and alluring, hope brightens the horizon; when we have clutched
+it and then let it escape, everything becomes gloomy and disenchanted;
+for it is a traveller whom we do not meet twice upon our road. I tried
+to study, which only increased my weariness. What was the use of
+knowledge and wisdom? Life was a closed book to me. I tried the poets,
+who added to my sufferings, by translating them into their passionate
+language. Thus, reason is baffled by the graceful apparition of a lovely
+blonde, who glided across my existence like a gossamer over a clear sky,
+and banished repose for ever from my heart! My eyes had scarcely rested
+upon the angle of my dreams ere she took flight, leaving on my brow the
+shadow of her wings! She was only a child, and that child had passed
+over my destiny like a tempest! She rested for a moment in my life, like
+a bird upon a branch, and my life was broken! In fact I lost all control
+over myself. Young, free and rich, I was at a loss to know what to do.
+What was to become of me? Turn where I would, I still saw nothing around
+me but solitude and despair. During the day I mingled with the crowd and
+wandered about the streets like a lost soul; returning at night
+overcome, but not conquered by fatigue. Burning sleeplessness besieged
+my pillow, and the little light no longer shone to comfort and encourage
+me. I no longer heard, as before, a caressing voice speaking to me
+through the trees of the garden. "Courage, friend! I watch and suffer
+with thee." Finally, one night I saw the star peep forth and shine.
+Although I had no heart for such fancies, still I felt young and joyous
+again, on seeing it. As before, I gazed at it a long time. Was it the
+same, that, for two years, I had seen burn and go out regularly at the
+same hour? It might be doubted; but I did not doubt it for a moment,
+because I took pleasure in believing it. I felt less isolated and gained
+confidence, now that my star had not deserted me. I called it my martyr
+when I spoke to it: "Whence comest thou? Hast thou too suffered? Hast
+thou mourned my absence a little?" And, as before, I thought it answered
+me in the silence of the night. Towards morning I slept, and in a dream,
+I saw, as through a glass, Louise watching and working in a room as poor
+as mine, by the light of the well-beloved ray. She looked pale and sad,
+and from time to time stopped her work to gaze at the gleam of my lamp.
+When I awoke, it was broad day; and I went out to kill time.
+
+On the boulevard I met an old friend of my father's; he was refined,
+cultivated and affectionate. He had come from our mountains, to which he
+was already anxious to return, for in their valleys he had buried
+himself. My dejected air and sorrowful countenance struck him. He gained
+my confidence, and immediately guessed at my complaint. "What are you
+doing here?" he asked; "it is an unwholesome place for grief. Return to
+our mountains. Your native air will do you good. Come with me; I promise
+you that your unhappiness will not hold out against the perfume of broom
+and heather." Then he spoke with tender earnestness of my duties. He did
+not conceal from me the obligations my fortune and the position left me
+by my father, laid me under to the land where I was born; I had
+neglected it too long, and the time had now come when I ought to occupy
+myself seriously with its needs and interests. In short, he made me
+blush for my useless days, and led me, gently and firmly, back to
+reality. At night-fall I returned to my little chamber, not consoled but
+stronger, and decided to set out on the morrow for the banks of the
+Creuse. I did not expect to be cured, but it pleased me to mingle the
+thought of Louise with the benefits that I could bestow, and to bring
+down blessings upon the name which I had longed to offer her.
+
+I immediately remarked on entering, that my little beacon shone with
+unaccustomed brilliancy. It was no longer a thread of light gleaming
+timidly through the foliage, but a whole window brightly illuminated,
+and standing out against the surrounding darkness. Investigating the
+cause of this phenomenon, I discovered that, during the day, the trees
+had been felled in the garden, and peering out into the gloom, I
+perceived, stretched along the ground, the trunk of the pine which, for
+two years, had hid from me the room where burned the fraternal light.
+Before departing, I should at least catch a glimpse of the mysterious
+being, who, probably unconsciously, had occupied so many of my restless
+thoughts. I could not control a sad smile at the thought of the
+disenchantment that awaited me on the morrow. I passed in review the
+faces which were likely to appear at that window, and as the absurd is
+mixed with almost every situation in life, I declare that this
+bewildering question occurred to me: "Suppose it should be Lady Penock?"
+
+I slept little, and arose at day-break. I was restless without daring to
+acknowledge to myself the cause. It would have mortified me to have to
+confess that there was room beside my grief for a childish curiosity, a
+poetical fancy. What is man's heart made of? He bemoans himself, wraps a
+cere-cloth around him and prepares to die, and a flitting bird or a
+shining light suffices to divert him. I watched the sun redden the
+house-tops. Paris still slept; no sound broke the stillness of the
+slumbering city, but the distant roll of the early carts over the
+stones. I looked long at the dear garret, which I saw for the first time
+in the eye of day. The window had neither shutter nor blind, but a
+double rose-colored curtain hung before it, mingling its tint with that
+of the rising sun. That window, with neither plants nor running vines to
+ornament it, had an air of refinement that charmed me. The house itself
+looked honest. I wrote several letters to shorten the slow hours which
+wearied my patience. Every shutter that opened startled me, and sent the
+blood quickly back to my heart. My reason revolted against suck
+childishness; but in spite of it, something within me refused to laugh
+at my folly.
+
+After some hours, I caught a glimpse of a hand furtively drawing aside
+the rose-colored curtains. That timid hand could only belong to a woman;
+a man would have drawn them back unceremoniously. She must, likewise, be
+a young woman; the shade of the curtains indicated it. Evidently, only a
+young woman would put pink curtains before a garret-window. Whereupon I
+recalled to mind the little room where I had bade adieu to Louise before
+leaving Richeport. I lived over again the scene in that poetic nook;
+again I saw Louise as she appeared to me at that last interview, pale,
+agitated, shedding silent tears which she did not attempt to conceal.
+
+At this remembrance my grief burst all bounds, and spent itself in
+imprecations against Edgar and against myself. I sat a long time, with
+my face buried in my hands, in mournful contemplation of an invisible
+image. Ah! unhappy man, I exclaimed, in my despair, why did you leave
+her? God offered you happiness and you refused it! She stood there,
+before you, trembling, desperate, her eyes bathed in tears, awaiting but
+one word to sink in your arms, and that word you refused to utter,
+cowardly fleeing from her! It is now your turn to weep, unfortunate
+wretch! Your life, which has but begun, is now ended, and you will not
+even have the supreme consolation of melancholy regrets, for the sting
+of remorse will for ever remain in your wound; you will be pursued to
+your dying day by the phantom of a felicity which you would not seize!
+
+When I raised my head, the garret-window had noiselessly opened, and
+there, standing motionless in a flood of sunshine, her golden hair
+lifted gently by the morning breeze, was Louise gazing at me.
+
+Madame, try to imagine what I felt; as for me, I shall never be able to
+give it expression. I tried to speak, and my voice died away on my lips;
+I wished to stretch out my arms towards the celestial vision, they
+seemed to be made of stone and glued to my side; I wished to rush to
+her, my feet were nailed to the floor. However, she still stood there
+smiling at me. Finally, after a desperate effort, I succeeded in
+breaking the charm which bound me, and rushed from my room wild with
+delight, mad with happiness. I was mad, that's the word. Holy madness!
+cold reason should humble itself in the dust before thee! As quick as
+thought, by some magic, I found myself before Louise's door. I had
+recognised the house so long sought for before. I entered without a
+question, guided alone by the perfume that ascended from the sanctuary;
+I took Louise's hands in mine, and we stood gazing silently at each
+other in an ecstasy of happiness fatally lost and miraculously
+recovered; the ecstasy of two lovers, who, separated by a shipwreck,
+believing each other dead, meet, radiant with love and life, upon the
+same happy shore.
+
+"Why, it was you!" she said at last, pointing to my room with a charming
+gesture.
+
+"Why, it was you!" I exclaimed in my turn, eagerly glancing at a little
+brass lamp which I had observed on a table covered with screens, boxes
+of colors and porcelain palettes.
+
+"You were the little light!"
+
+"You were my evening star!"
+
+And we both began to recite the poem of those two years of our lives,
+and we found that we told the same story. Louise began my sentences and
+I finished hers. In disclosing our heart secrets and the mysterious
+sympathy that had existed between us for two years, we interrupted each
+other with expressions of astonishment and admiration. We paused time
+and time again to gaze at each other and press each other's hands, as if
+to assure ourselves that we were awake and it was not all a dream. And
+every moment this gay and charming refrain broke in upon our ecstasy:
+
+"So you were the brother and friend of my poverty!"
+
+"So you were the sister and companion of my solitude!"
+
+We finally approached in our recollections, through many windings, our
+meeting upon the banks of the Seine, under the shades of Richeport.
+
+"What seems sad to me," she said with touching grace, "is that after
+having loved me without knowing me, you should have left me as soon as
+you did know me. You only worshipped your idle fancies, and, had I loved
+you then," she continued, "I should have been forced to be jealous of
+this little lamp."
+
+I told her what inexorable necessity compelled me to leave Richeport and
+her. Louise listened with a pensive and charming air; but when I came to
+speak of Edgar's love, she burst out laughing and began to relate, in
+the gayest manner, some story or other about Turks, which I failed to
+understand.
+
+"M. de Meilhan loves you, does he not?" I asked finally, with a vague
+feeling of uneasiness.
+
+"Yes, yes," she cried, "he loves me to--madness!"
+
+"He loves you, since he is jealous."
+
+"Yes, yes," she cried again, "jealous as a--Mussulman." and then she
+began to laugh again.
+
+"Why," I again asked, "if you did not love him, did you stay at
+Richeport two or three days after I left?"
+
+"Because I expected you to return," she replied, laying aside her
+childish gayety and becoming grave and serious.
+
+I told her of my love. I was sincere, and therefore should have been
+eloquent. I saw her eyes fill with tears, which were not this time tears
+of sorrow. I unfolded to her my whole life; all that I had hoped for,
+longed for, suffered down to the very hour when she appeared to me as
+the enchanting realization of my youthful dreams.
+
+"You ask me," she said, "to share your destiny, and you do not know who
+I am, whence I come, or whither I go."
+
+"You mistake, I know you," I cried; "you are as noble as you are
+beautiful; you come from heaven, and you will return to it. Bear me with
+you on your wings."
+
+"Sir, all that is very vague," she answered, smilingly.
+
+"Listen," said I. "It is true that I do not know who you are; but I
+know, I feel that falsehood has never profaned those lips, nor perverted
+the brightness of those eyes. Here is my hand; it is the hand of a
+gentleman. Take it without fear or hesitation, that is all I ask."
+
+"M. de Villiers, it is well," she said placing her little hand in mine.
+"And now," she added, "do you wish to know my life?"
+
+"No," I replied, "you can tell me of it when you have given it to me."
+
+"But--"
+
+"I have seen you," said I; "you can tell me nothing. I feel that there
+is a mystery in your existence, but I also feel that that mystery is
+honorable, that you could only conceal a treasure."
+
+At these words an indefinable smile played around her lips.
+
+"At least," she cried, "you know certainly that I am poor?"
+
+"Yes," I answered, "but you have shown yourself worthy of fortune, and
+I, on my part, hope that I have proved myself not altogether unworthy of
+poverty."
+
+The day glided imperceptibly by, enlivened with tender communings. I
+examined in all its details the room which my thoughts had so often
+visited. It required considerable self-control to repress the
+inclination to carry to my lips the little lamp which had brought me
+more delight than Aladdin's ever could have done. I spoke of you,
+madame, mingling your image with my happiness in order to complete it. I
+told Louise how you would love her, that she would love you too; she
+replied that she loved you already. At evening we parted, and our joyous
+lamps burned throughout the night.
+
+In the midst of my bliss, I do not forget, madame, the interests that
+are dear to you. Have you written to Mademoiselle de Chateaudun as I
+begged you to do? Have you written with firmness? Have you told your
+young friend that her peace and future are at stake? Have you pointed
+out to her the storm ready to burst over her head? When I left M. de
+Monbert he was gloomy and irritated. Let Mademoiselle Chateaudun take
+care!
+
+Accept the expression of my respectful homage.
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+
+RENE DE CHATEAUDUN _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel of the Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+Paris, Aug. 5th 18--.
+
+All of your letters have reached me at once. I received two yesterday
+and one this morning, the latter being written first and dated at Berne.
+Ah! if it had reached me in due time, what distress I would have been
+spared! What! he wrote you, "I love her," and said nothing to me! When
+he left me you know how unhappy he was, and I, who was made so miserable
+by his departure, I thought he was indifferent!
+
+When I told you that I was about to sacrifice myself to console Madame
+de Meilhan, you must have thought me insane; I can see by your letter
+from Geneva, which I received yesterday, that you were dreadfully
+alarmed about me. Cursed journey! Cursed mail! A letter lost might have
+destroyed my happiness for ever! This letter was delayed on the road
+several days, and, during these several days, I suffered more torture
+than I ever felt during the most painful moments of my life. These
+useless sorrows, that I might so easily have avoided, render me
+incredulous and trembling before this future of promised happiness. I
+have suffered so much that joy itself finds me fearful; and then this
+happiness is so great that it is natural to receive it with sadness and
+doubt.
+
+He told you of his delirious joy, on recognising me at the window; but
+he did not tell you, he could not tell you, of my uneasiness, of my
+dreadful suspicions, my despair when I saw him in this garret.
+
+Our situations were not the same; what astonished and delighted him,
+also astonished and delighted me, but at the same time filled me with
+alarm. He believed me to be poor, discovered me in an attic; it was
+nothing to be surprised at; the only wonderful thing about it was that
+my garret should be immediately opposite the house where he lived.... I
+knew he was wealthy; I knew he was the Count de Villiers; I knew he was
+of an old and noble family; I knew from his conversation that he had
+travelled over Italy in a manner suitable to his rank; I found him in
+Richeport, elegant and generous; he possesses great simplicity of
+manner, it is true, but it is the lordly simplicity of a great man....
+In fact, everything I knew about him convinces me that his proper place
+was not a garret, and that if I saw him there, I did not see him in his
+own house.
+
+Remember, Valentine, that for two months I have lived upon deceptions; I
+have been disillusioned; I have inspired the most varied and excessive
+griefs; I have studied the most picturesque consolations; I have seen
+myself lamented at the Odeon, by one lover in a box with painted women,
+... and at Havre by another in a tavern with a slave.... I might now see
+myself lamented at Paris by a third in a garret with a grisette! Oh!
+torture! in this one instant of dread, all the arrows of jealousy
+rankled in my heart. Oh! I could not be indignant this time, I could not
+complain, I could only die.... And I think that if I had not seen the
+pure joy beaming in his eyes, lighting up his noble countenance; if I
+had not instantly divined, comprehended everything, I believe I would
+have dashed myself from the window to escape the strange agony that made
+my heart cold and my brain dizzy--agony that I could not and would not
+endure. But he looked too happy to be culpable; he made a sign, and I
+saw that he was coming over to see me. I waited for him--and in what a
+state! My hair was disarranged, and I called Blanchard to assist me in
+brushing it; my voice was so weak she came running to me frightened,
+thinking me ill ... a thousand confused thoughts rushed through my
+brain; one thing was clear: I had found him again, I was about to see
+him!
+
+When I was dressed--oh! that morning little did I think I would need a
+becoming dress, ... I sat on the sofa in my poor little parlor, and
+there, pale with emotion, scarcely daring to breathe, I listened with
+burning impatience to the different noises about the house. In a few
+moments I heard a knock, the door open, a voice exclaim, "You, Monsieur
+le Comte!" He did not wait to be announced, but came in at once to the
+parlor where I was. He was so joyous at finding me, and I so delighted
+at seeing him, that for the first blissful moments of our meeting
+neither of us thought explanations necessary; his joy proved that he was
+free to love me, and my manner showed that I might be everything to him.
+When he found his voice, he said to me: "What! were you this cherished
+star that I have loved for two years?"
+
+Then I remembered my momentary fears, and said: "What! were you the
+mysterious beacon? Why were you living there? Why did the Comte de
+Villiers dwell in a garret?"
+
+Then, dear Valentine, he told me his noble history; he confessed, rather
+unwillingly, that he had been poor like myself; very poor, because he
+had given all his fortune to save the honor of a friend, M. Frederick de
+B---- Oh! how I wept, while listening to this touching story, so full of
+sublime simplicity, generous carelessness and self-sacrifice! This would
+have made me adore him if I had not already madly loved him. While he
+was telling me, I was thinking of the unfortunate Frederick's wife, of
+her anxiety, of the torture she suffered, as a wife and a mother, when
+she believed her husband lost and her children ruined; of her
+astonishment and wild joy when she saw them all saved; of her deep,
+eternal gratitude! and I had but one thought, I said to myself: "How I
+would like to talk with this woman of Raymond!"
+
+I wished in turn to relate my own history; he refused to listen to me,
+and I did not insist. I wished to be generous, and let him for some time
+longer believe me to be poor and miserable. He was so happy at the idea
+of enriching and ennobling me, that I had not the courage to disenchant
+him.
+
+However, yesterday, I was obliged to tell him everything; in his
+impatience to hasten our marriage he had devoted the morning to the
+drawing up of his papers, contracts and settlements; for two days he had
+been tormenting me for my family papers in order to arrange them, and to
+find the register of my birth, which was indispensable when he appeared
+before the mayor. I had always put off giving it to him, but yesterday
+he entreated me so earnestly, that I was compelled to assent. In order
+to prepare him for the shock, I told him my papers were in my secretary,
+and that if he would come into my room he could see them. At the sight
+of the grand family pictures covering the walls of my retreat, he stood
+aghast; then he examined them with uneasiness. Some of the portraits
+bore the names and titles of the illustrious persons they represented.
+Upon reading the name, Victor Louis de Chateaudun, Marechal de France,
+he stopped motionless and looked at me with a strange air; then he read,
+beneath the portrait of a beautiful woman, the following inscription:
+"Marie Felicite Diane de Chateaudun, Duchesse de Montignan," and turning
+quickly towards me, with a face deadly pale, he exclaimed: "Louise?"
+"No, not Louise, but Irene!" I replied; and my voice rang with ancestral
+pride when I thus appeared before him in my true character.
+
+For a moment he was silent, and a bitter, sad expression came over his
+countenance, that frightened me. Then I thought, it is nothing but envy;
+it is hard for a man who knows he is generous to be outdone in
+generosity. It is disappointing, when he thinks he is bestowing
+everything, to find he is about to receive millions; it is cruel, when
+he dreams of making a sacrifice like the hero of a novel, to find
+himself constrained to destroy all the romance by conducting the affair
+on a business basis. But Raymond was more than sad, and his almost
+severe demeanor alarmed my love, as well as my dignity ... he crossed to
+the other side of the room and sat down. I followed him, trembling with
+agitation, and my eyes filled with tears.
+
+"You no longer love me," I said.
+
+"I dare not love the fiancee of my friend."
+
+"Don't mention M. de Monbert, nor your scruples, he would not understand
+them."
+
+"But he told you he loved you, Mlle., why did you leave him so
+abruptly?"
+
+"I distrusted this love and wished to test it."
+
+"What is the result of the test?"
+
+"He does not love me, and I despise him."
+
+"He does love you, and you ought to respect him."
+
+Then, in order to avoid painful explanations and self-justification, I
+handed him a long letter I had written to my cousin, in which I related,
+without telling her of my disguise, that I had seen the Prince de
+Monbert at the theatre, described the people whom he was with, and my
+disgust at his conduct. I begged her to read this letter to the Prince
+himself, who is with her now--he has followed her to one of her estates
+in Brittany; he would see from the decided tone of my letter, that my
+resolution was taken, that I did not love him, and that the best thing
+he could do was to forget me.
+
+I had written this letter yesterday, under your inspiration, and to ward
+off the imaginary dangers you feared. Rely upon it, my dear Valentine,
+M. de Monbert knows that he has acted culpably towards me; he might,
+perhaps, endeavor to prevent my marriage, but when he knows I am no
+longer free, he will be compelled to resign himself to my loss; don't be
+alarmed, I know of two beautiful creatures whom he will allow to console
+him. A man really unhappy would not have confided the story of his
+disdained love to all his friends, valets and the detectives; he would
+not hand over to idle gossip a dear and sacred name; a man who has no
+respect for his love, does not love seriously; he deserves neither
+regard nor pity. I will write to him myself to-morrow, if you desire it;
+but as to a quarrel, what does he claim? I have never given him any
+rights; if he threatens to provoke my husband to a duel, I have only to
+say: "Take for your seconds Messrs. Ernest and George de S., who were
+intoxicated with you at the Odeon," and he will blush with shame, and
+instantly recognise how odious and ridiculous is his anger.
+
+I left Raymond alone in my room reading this letter, and I returned to
+the saloon to weep bitterly. I could not bear to see him displeased with
+me; I knew he would accuse me of being trifling and capricious--the idea
+of having offended him pierced my heart with anguish. I know not if the
+letter justified me in his eyes, whether he thought it honest and
+dignified, but as soon as he had finished reading it he called me:
+"Irene," he said, and I trembled with sweet emotion on hearing him, for
+the first time, utter my real name; I returned to the next room, he took
+my hand and continued: "Pardon me for believing, for a moment, that you
+were capricious and trifling, and I forgive you for having made me act
+an odious part towards one of my friends."
+
+Then he told me in a tender voice that he understood my conduct, and
+that it was right; that when one is not sure of loving her intended, or
+of being loved by him, she has a right to test him, and that it was only
+honest and just. Then he smilingly asked me if I did not wish to try
+him, and leave him a month or two to see if I was beloved by him.
+
+"Oh! no," I cried, "I believe in you. I do not wish to leave you. Oh!
+how can true lovers live apart from each other? How can they be
+separated for a single day?"
+
+I recalled what you told me when I abandoned M. de Monbert, and
+acknowledged that you were right when you said: "Genuine love is
+confiding, it shuns doubt because it cannot endure it."
+
+This sad impression that he felt upon learning that Louise Guerin was
+Irene de Chateaudun, was the only cloud that passed over our happiness.
+Soon joy returned to us lively and pure--and we spoke of you tenderly;
+he was the poor wounded man that gave you so much uneasiness; he was the
+model husband you had chosen for me, and whom I refused with such proud
+scorn!
+
+Ah! my good Valentine, how I thank you for having nursed him as a
+sister; how noble and charming you were to him; I would like to reward
+you by having you here to witness our happiness. And you must thank the
+esteemed M. de Braimes for me, and my beautiful Irene, who taught him to
+love my name, and brought him a bouquet every morning; and your handsome
+Henri, the golden-haired angel, who brought him his little doves in your
+work-basket to take care of, while he studied his lessons. Embrace for
+me these dear children he caressed, who cheered his hours of suffering,
+whom I so love for his sake and yours.
+
+Will you not let me show my appreciation of my little goddaughter by
+rendering her independent of future accidents, enabling her without
+imprudence to marry for love?
+
+I am so happy in loving that I can imagine it to be the only source of
+joy to others; yet this happiness is so great that I find myself asking
+if my heart is equal to its blessings; if my poor reason, wearied by so
+many trials, will have sufficient strength to support these violent
+emotions; if happiness has not, like misery, a madness. I endeavor when
+alone to calm my excited mind; I sit down and try to quietly think over
+my past life with that inflexibility of judgment, that analyzing
+pedantry, of which you have so often accused me.
+
+You remember, Valentine, more than once you have told me you saw in me
+two persons, a romantic young girl and a disenchanted old
+philosopher.... Ah! well, to-day the romantic young girl has reached the
+most thrilling chapter of her life; she feels her weak head whirl at the
+prospect of such intoxicating bliss, and she appeals to the old
+philosopher for assistance. She tells him how this bliss frightens her;
+she begs him to reassure her about this beautiful future opening before
+her, by proving to her that it is natural and logical; that it is the
+result of her past life, and finally that however great it may be,
+however extraordinary it may seem, it is possible, it is lasting,
+because it is bought at the price of humiliation, of sorrow, of trials!
+
+Yes, I confess it, these happy events appear to be so strange, so
+impossible, that I try to explain them, to calmly analyze them and
+believe in their reality.
+
+I recall one by one all my impressions of the last four years, and exert
+my mind to discover in the strangeness, in the fatality, in the
+excessive injustice of my past misfortunes, a natural explanation for
+extraordinary and incredible events of the present. The reverses
+themselves were romantic and improbable, therefore the reparations and
+consolations should in their turn be equally romantic. Is it an ordinary
+thing for a young girl reared like myself in Parisian luxury, belonging
+to an illustrious family, to be reduced to the sternest poverty, and
+through family pride and dignity to conceal her name? Is not such
+dignity, assailed by fate, destined sooner or later to vindicate itself?
+
+You see that through myself I would have been restored to my rank. M. de
+Meilhan wished to marry me without fortune or name.... Yesterday, M. de
+Villiers knew not who I was; my uncle's inheritance has therefore been
+of no assistance to me. I believe that native dignity will always
+imperceptibly assert itself. I believe in the logic of events; order has
+imperious laws; it is useless to throw statues to the ground, the time
+always comes when they are restored to their pedestals. From my rank I
+fell unjustly, unhappily. I must be restored to it justly. Every glaring
+injustice has a natural consequent, a brilliant reparation, I have
+suffered extraordinary misfortune; I have a right to realize ideal
+happiness. At twenty, I lost in one year my noble and too generous
+father and my poor mother; it is only just that I should have a lover to
+replace these lost ones.
+
+As to these violent passions which you pretend I have inspired, but
+which are by no means serious, I examine them calmly and find in the
+analysis an explanation of many of the misfortunes, many of the mistakes
+of poor women, who are accused of inconstancy and perfidy, and who are,
+on the contrary, only culpable through innocence and honest faith. They
+believe they love, and engage themselves, and then, once engaged, they
+discover that they are not in love. Genuine love is composed of two
+sentiments; we experience one of these when we believe we love; we are
+uneasy, agitated by an imperfect sentiment that seeks completion; we
+struggle in its feeble ties; we are neither bound nor free; not happy,
+nor at liberty to seek happiness at another source.... The old
+philosopher speaks--hear him.
+
+There are two kinds of love, social love and natural love; voluntary
+love and involuntary love. An accomplished and deserving young man loves
+a woman; he loves her, and deserves to be loved in return; she wishes to
+love him, and when alone thinks of him; if his name is mentioned, she
+blushes; if any one says in her presence, "Madame B. used to be in love
+with him," she is disturbed, agitated. These symptoms are certain proofs
+of the state of her heart, and she says to herself, "I love Adolphe,"
+just as I said, "I love Roger." ... But the voice of this man does not
+move her to tears; his fiery glances do not make her turn pale or blush;
+her hand does not tremble in the presence of his.... She only feels for
+him social love; there exists between them a harmony of ideas and
+education, but no sympathy of nature.
+
+The other love is more dangerous, especially for married women, who
+mistake remorse for that honest repugnance necessarily inspired in every
+woman of refined mind and romantic imagination.
+
+I frankly confess that if I had been married, if I had no longer control
+of my actions, I should have thought I was in love with Edgar.... I
+should have mistaken for an odious and culpable passion, the fearful
+trouble, insupportable uneasiness that his love caused me to feel. But
+my vigilant reason, my implacable good faith watched over my heart; they
+said: "Shun Roger;" they said: "Fear Edgar...." If I had married Roger,
+woe to me! Conventional love, leaving my heart all its dreams, would
+have embittered my life.... But if, more foolish still, I had married
+Edgar, woe, woe to me! because one does not sacrifice with impunity to
+an incomplete love all of one's theories, habits and even weaknesses and
+early prejudices.
+
+What enlightened me quickly upon the unreality of this love was the
+liberty of my position. Why being free should I fear a legitimate love?
+Strange mystery! wonderful instinct! With Roger, I sadly said to myself:
+"I love him, but it is not with love." ... With Edgar, I said in fright:
+"This is love, yet I do not love him." And then when Raymond appeared,
+my heart, my reason, my faith at the first glance recognised him, and
+without hesitation, almost without prudence, I cried out, "It is he....
+I love him." ... Now this is what I call real love, ideal love, harmony
+of ideas and sympathy of hearts.
+
+Oh! it does me good to be a little pedantic; I am so excited, it calms
+me; I am not so afraid of going crazy when I adopt the sententious
+manner. Ah! when I can laugh I am happy. Anything that for a moment
+checks my wild imagination, reassures me.
+
+This morning we laughed like two children! You will laugh too; when I
+write one name it will set you off; he said to me, "I must go to my
+coachmaker's and see if my travelling carriage needs any repairs." I
+said, "I have a new one; I will send for it, and let you see it." In an
+hour my carriage was brought into the court-yard. With peals of laughter
+he recognised Lady Penock's carriage. "Lady Penock! What! do you know
+Lady Penock? Are you the audacious young lover who pursued her until she
+was compelled to sell me her carriage." "Yes, I was the man." Ah! how
+gay we were; he was the hero of Lady Penock, his was the little light,
+he was the wounded man, he was the husband selected for me! Ah! it all
+makes me dizzy; and we shall set off to travel in this carriage.
+
+Ah! Lady Penock, you must pardon him.
+
+IRENE DE CHATEAUDUN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Porte Restante (Rouen).
+
+PARIS, Aug. 11th 18--.
+
+Here I am in Paris, gloomy, with nothing to do, not knowing how to fill
+up the void in my life, discontented with myself, ridiculous in my own
+eyes, alike in my love and in my despair. I have never felt so sad, so
+wretched, so cast-down. My days and nights are passed in endless
+self-accusation: one by one I revise every word and action relating to
+Louise Guerin. I compose superb sentences which I had forgotten to
+pronounce, the effect of which would have been irresistible. I tell
+myself: "On such a day, you were guilty of a stupid timidity, which
+would have made even a college-boy laugh." It was the moment for daring.
+Louise, unseen, threw you a look which you were too stupid to
+understand. The evening that Madame Taverneau was at Rouen, you allowed
+yourself to be intimidated like a fool, by a few grand airs, an
+affectation of virtue over which the least persistence would have
+triumphed. Your delicacy ruined you. A little roughness doesn't hurt
+sometimes, especially with prudes. You have not profited by a single one
+of your advantages; you let every opportunity pass. In short, I am like
+a general who has lost a battle, and who, having retired to his tent, in
+the midst of a field strewn with the dead and the dying marks out, too
+late, a strategic plan which would have infallibly gained him the
+victory!
+
+What a pitiless monster an unsatiated desire is, tearing your heart with
+its sharp claws and piercing beak for want of other prey! The punishment
+of Prometheus pales beside it, for the arrows of Hercules cannot reach
+this unseen vulture! This is my first unsuccessful love; the first
+falcon that has returned to me without bringing the dove in his talons;
+I am devoured by an inexpressible rage; I pace my room like a wild
+beast, uttering inarticulate cries; I do not know whether I love or
+hate Louise the most, but I should take infinite delight in strangling
+her with her blonde tresses and trampling her, affrighted and suppliant,
+under my feet.
+
+My good Roger, I weary you with my lamentations; but whom can we weary,
+if not our friends? When will you return to Paris? Soon, I hope, since
+you have ceased writing to me.
+
+I have gone back to the lady with the turban, passing nearly every
+evening in the catafalque, which she calls her drawing-room. This
+lugubrious habitation suits my melancholy. She finds me more gloomy,
+more Giaour-like, more Lara-like than usual; I am her hero, her god! or
+rather her demon, for she has now taken to the sorceries of the satanic
+school! I assure you that she annoys me inexpressibly, and yet I feel a
+sort of pleasure in being admired by her. It consoles my vanity for
+Louise's disdain, but not my heart. Alas! my poor heart, which still
+bleeds and suffers. I caught a glimpse of Paradise through a half-open
+door. The door is shut, and I weep upon the threshold!
+
+If Louise were dead, I might be calm; but she exists, and not for
+me--that thought makes life insupportable. I can think of nothing else,
+and I scarcely know whether the words I write to you make any sense. I
+leave my letter unfinished. I will finish it this evening if I can
+succeed in diverting myself, for a moment, from this despair which
+possesses me.
+
+Roger, something incredible has happened, overturning every calculation,
+every prevision. I am stupefied, benumbed--I was at the Marquise's,
+where it was darker than usual. One solitary lamp flickered in a corner,
+dozing under a huge shade. A fat gentleman, buried in an easy-chair,
+drowsily retailed the news of the day.
+
+I was not listening to him; I was thinking of Louise's little white
+couch, from which I had once lifted the snowy curtain; with that
+sorrowful intensity, those poignant regrets which torture rejected
+lovers. Suddenly a familiar name struck my ear--the name of Irene de
+Chateaudun. I became attentive--"She is to be married to-morrow,"
+continued the well-posted gentleman, "to--wait a minute, I get confused
+about names and dates; with that exception, my memory is excellent--a
+young man, Gaston, Raymond, I am not certain which, but his first name
+ends in _on_ I am sure."
+
+I eagerly questioned the fat man; he knew nothing more; hastily
+returning to my rooms I sent Joseph out to obtain further information.
+
+My servant, who is quick and intelligent, and merits a master more given
+to intrigue and gallantry than I, went to the twelve mayors' offices. He
+brought me a list of all the banns that had been published.
+
+The news was true; Irene de Chateaudun marries Raymond. What does that
+signify? Irene your fiancee, Raymond our friend! What comedy of errors
+is being played here? This, then, was the motive of these flights, these
+disappearances. They were laughing at you. It seems to me rather an
+audacious proceeding. How does it happen that Raymond, who knew of your
+projected marriage with Mademoiselle de Chateaudun, should have stepped
+in your shoes? This comes of deeds of prowess a la Don Quixote, and
+rescues of old Englishwomen.
+
+Hasten, my friend, by railroad, post-horses, in the stirrup, on
+hippogriff's wing; what am I talking about? You will scarcely receive my
+letter ere the marriage has taken place. But I will keep watch for you.
+I will acquit myself of your revenge, and Mademoiselle Irene de
+Chateaudun shall not become Madame Raymond de Villiers until I have
+whispered that in her ear which will make her paler than her marriage
+veil. As to Raymond, I am not astonished at what he has done; I felt
+towards him at Richeport a hate which never deceives me and which I
+always feel towards cowards and hypocrites; he talked too much of virtue
+not to be a scoundrel. I would I had the power to raze out from my life
+the time that I loved him. It is impossible to oppose this revolting
+marriage. How is it possible that Irene de Chateaudun, who was to enjoy
+the honor of being your wife, whom you had represented to me as a woman
+of high intelligence and lofty culture, could have allowed herself to
+be impressed, after having known you, by the jeremiads of this
+sentimental sniveller? Since Eve, women have disliked all that is noble,
+frank and loyal; to fall is an unconquerable necessity of their nature;
+they have always preferred, to the voice of an honorable man, the
+perfidious whisper of the evil spirit, which shows its painted face
+among the leaves and wraps its slimy coils around the fatal tree.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS _to_ MME. LA VICOMTESSE DE BRAIMES,
+Hotel de la Prefecture, Grenoble (Isere).
+
+Paris, Aug. 11th 18--.
+
+This is probably the last letter that I shall ever write to you. Do not
+pity me, my fate is more worthy of envy than of pity. I never knew, I
+never dreamed of anything more beautiful. It has been said time and
+again that real life is tame, spiritless and disenchanted by the side of
+the fictions of the poets. What a mistake! There is a more wonderful
+inventor than any rhapsodist, and that inventor is called reality. It
+wears the magic ring, and imagination is but a poor magician compared
+with it. Madame, do not write to Mademoiselle de Chateaudun. Since you
+have not done so my letters must necessarily have miscarried. Blessed be
+the happy chance which prevented you from following my advice! What did
+I say to you? I was a fool. Be careful not to alarm my darling. The man
+has lived long enough upon whom she has bestowed her love for one single
+day. Do not write, it is too late; but admire the decrees of fate. The
+diamond that I had sought with the Prince de Monbert, I have unwittingly
+found; I assisted in searching for it, while it was hid, unknown to me,
+in my heart. Louise is Irene. Madame Guerin is Mademoiselle de
+Chateaudun. If you could have seen her delight in revealing her
+identity! I saw her joyful and triumphant as if her love were not the
+most precious gift she could bestow. When she proclaimed herself, I felt
+an icy chill pass through me; but I thanked God for the bliss which I
+shall not survive, so great that death must follow after.
+
+"Do you not love me well enough," she said, "to pardon me my fortune?"
+
+How was she to know that in revealing herself she had signed my
+death-warrant?
+
+She spoke, laughingly, of M. de Monbert, as she had done of Edgar; to
+excuse herself she related a story of disenchantment which you already
+know, madame. It would have been honorable in me, at this juncture, to
+have undeceived Irene and enlightened her upon the Prince's passion. I
+did so, but feebly. When happiness is offered us loaded with ball, we
+have no longer the right to be generous.
+
+We are to be married privately to-morrow, without noise or display. A
+plain-looking carriage will wait for us on the Place de la Madeleine;
+immediately on leaving the church we shall set out for Villiers. M. de
+Meilhan is at Richeport. M. de Monbert is in Brittany. Eight days must
+elapse before the news can reach them. Thus I have before me eight days
+of holy intoxication. What man has ever been able to say as much?
+
+Recall to mind the words of one of your poet friends; It is better to
+die young and restore to God, your judge, a heart pure and full of
+illusions. Your poet is right; only it is more ecstatic to die in the
+arms of happiness, and to be buried with the flower of a love which has
+not yet faded.
+
+My love would never have followed the fatal law of common-place
+affection; years would never have withered it in their passage. But what
+signifies its duration, if we can crowd eternity into an hour? What
+signifies the number of days if the days are full?
+
+Nevertheless, I cannot refrain from regretting an existence which
+promises so much beauty. We would have been very happy in my little
+chateau on the Creuse. I was born for fireside joys, the delights of
+home. I already saw my beautiful children playing over my green lawns,
+and pressing joyfully around their mother. What exquisite pleasure to be
+able to initiate into the mysteries of fortune the sweet and noble being
+whom I then believed to be poor and friendless! I would take possession
+of her life to make a long fete-day of it. What tender care would I not
+bestow upon so dear and charming a destiny! Downy would be her nest,
+warm the sun that shone upon her, sweet the perfumes that surrounded
+her, soft the breezes that fanned her cheek, green and velvety the turf
+under her delicate feet! But a truce to such sweet dreams. I know M. de
+Monbert; what I have seen of him is sufficient. M. de Meilhan, too, will
+not disappoint me. I shall not conceal myself; in eight days these two
+men will have found me. In eight days they will knock at my door, like
+two creditors, demanding restitution, one of Louise, the other of Irene.
+If I were to descend to justification, even if I were to succeed in
+convincing them of my loyalty and uprightness, their despair would cry
+out all the louder for vengeance. Then, madame, what shall I do? Shall I
+try to take the life of my friends after having robbed them of their
+happiness? Let them kill me; I shall be ready; but they shall see upon
+my lips, growing cold in death, the triumphant smile of victorious love;
+my last sigh, breathing Irene's name, will be a cruel insult to these
+unhappy men, who will envy me even in the arms of death.
+
+I neither believe nor desire that Irene should survive me. My soul, in
+leaving, will draw hers after it. What would she do here below, without
+me? You will see, that feeling herself gently drawn upward, she will
+leave a world that I no longer inhabit. I repeat, that I would not have
+her live on earth without me. But sorrow does not always kill; youth is
+strong, and nature works miracles. I have seen trees, struck by
+lightning, still stand erect and put forth new leaves. I have seen
+blasted lives drag their weary length to a loveless old age. I have seen
+noble hearts severed from their mates, slowly consumed by the weariness
+of widowhood and solitude. If we could die when we have lost those we
+love, it would be too sweet to love. Jealous of his creature, God does
+not always permit it. It is a grace which he accords only to the elect.
+If, by a fatality not without precedent, Irene should have the strength
+and misfortune to survive me, to you, madame, do I confide her. Care for
+her, not with the hope of consoling her, but to banish all bitterness
+from her regrets. Picture my death to her, not as the expiation of the
+innocent whim of her youth, but as that of a happiness too great to go
+unchecked. Tell her that there are great joys as well as great sorrows,
+and that when they have outweighed the human measure of happiness, the
+heart which holds them must break and grow still. Tell her, ah! above
+all, tell her that I have dearly loved her, and if I carry her whole
+life away with me, I leave her mine in exchange. Finally, madame, tell
+her that I died blessing her, regretting that I had but one life to lay
+down as the price of her love.
+
+While I write, I see her at her window, smiling, radiant, beautiful,
+beaming with happiness, resplendent with life and youth.
+
+Farewell, madame; an eternal farewell!
+
+RAYMOND DE VILLIERS.
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+Poste-Restante (Rouen).
+
+Paris, August 12th 18--.
+
+What I wrote you yesterday was very infamous and incredible. You think
+that is all; well, no! you have only half of the story. My hand trembles
+with rage so that I can scarcely hold my pen. What remains to be told is
+the acme of perfidy; a double-dyed treason; we have been made game of,
+you as a plighted husband, I as a lover. All this seems as incoherent to
+you as a dream. What can I have in common with Irene whom I have never
+seen? Wait, you shall see!
+
+My faithful Joseph discovered that the marriage was to take place at the
+Church of the Madeleine, at six o'clock in the morning.
+
+I was so agitated, so restless, so tormented by gloomy presentiments
+that I did not go to bed. At the given hour I went out wrapped in my
+cloak. Although it is summer-time I was cold; a slight feverish chill
+ran through me. The catastrophe to come had already turned me pale.
+
+The Madeleine stood out faintly against the gray morning sky. The livid
+figures of some revellers, surprised by the day, were seen here and
+there on the street corners. The stir of the great city had not yet
+begun. I thought I had arrived too soon, but a carriage with neither
+crest nor cipher, in charge of a servant in quiet livery, was stationed
+in one of the cross-streets that run by the church.
+
+I ascended the steps with uncertain footing, and soon saw, in one of
+those spurious chapels, which have been stuck with so much trouble in
+that counterfeit Greek temple, wax lights and the motions of the priest
+who officiated.
+
+The bride, enveloped in her veil, prostrated before the altar, seemed to
+be praying fervently; the husband, as if he were not the most
+contemptible of men, stood erect and proud, his face beaming with joy.
+The ceremony drew to a close, Irene raised her head, but I was so placed
+as not to be able to distinguish her features.
+
+I leaned against a column in order to whisper in Irene's ear, as she
+passed, a word as cutting as the crystal poniards of the bravos of
+Venice, which break in the wound and slay without a drop of blood. Irene
+advanced buoyantly along, leaning on Raymond's arm, with an undulating,
+rhythmical grace, as if her feet trod the yielding clouds, instead of
+the cold stones of the aisle. She no longer walked the earth, her
+happiness lifted her up; the ardor of her delight made me comprehend
+those assumptions of the Saints, who soared in their ecstasy above the
+floors of their narrow cells and caverns; she felt the deep delight of a
+woman who sacrifices herself.
+
+When she reached the column that concealed me, an electrical current
+doubtless warned her of my presence, for she shuddered as if struck by
+an unseen arrow, and quickly turned her head; a stray sunbeam lit up her
+face, and I recognised in Irene de Chateaudun, Louise Guerin; in the
+rich heiress, the screen-painter of Pont de l'Arche!
+
+Irene and Louise were the same person!
+
+We have been treated as Cassandras of comedy; we have played in all
+seriousness the scene between Horace and Arnolphe. We have confided to
+each other our individual loves, hopes and sorrows. It is very amusing;
+but, contrary to custom, the tragedy will come after the farce, and we
+will play it so well that no one will be tempted to laugh at our
+expense; we will convert ridicule into terror. Ah! Mademoiselle Irene de
+Chateaudun, you imagined that you could amuse yourself with two such men
+as the Prince de Moubert and Edgar de Meilhan! that there it would end,
+and you had only to say to them: "I love another better!" And you,
+Master Raymond, thought that your virtuous reputation would make your
+perfidy appear like an act of devotion! No, no, in the drama where the
+great lady was an adventuress, the artless girl a fast woman, the hero
+a traitor, the lover a fool, and the betrothed husband a Geronte, the
+roles are to be changed.
+
+A hoarse cry escaped me, Irene clung convulsively to Raymond's arm, and
+precipitately left the church. Raymond, without understanding this
+sudden flight, yielded to it and rapidly descended the steps. The
+carriage was in waiting; they got into it; the coachman whipped up his
+horses and soon they were out of sight.
+
+Irene, Louise, whatever may be your name or your mask, you shall not
+long remain Madame de Villiers; a speedy widowhood will enable you to
+begin your coquetries again. I regret to be compelled to strike you
+through another, for _you_ merit death.
+
+EDGAR BE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE VILLIERS,
+Au Chateau de Villiers (Creuse).
+
+August 16th 18--.
+
+MONSIEUR,--
+
+I take pleasure in sending you, by way of apologue, an anecdote, which
+you may read with profit.
+
+During my travels I met with an estimable man, a Creole of the colony of
+Port Natal, by the name of Smollet.
+
+I sometimes hunted in the neighborhood of his place, and on two
+occasions demanded his hospitality. He received me in a dubious manner,
+admitted me to his table, scarcely spoke to me; served me with
+Constantia wine, refused to accept my proffered hand, and surrendered me
+his own couch to rest my wearied limbs upon. From Port Natal I wrote
+this savage two notes of thanks, commencing: _My dear friend_--in
+writing, I could not confer on him a title of rank, so I gave him one of
+affection: _My dear friend_. My letters were ignored--as I had asked
+nothing, there was nothing to answer. One evening I met the Creole
+walking up the avenue of Port Natal, and advanced towards him, and held
+out my hand in a friendly way. Once more he declined to accept it. My
+vexation was apparent: "Monsieur," said the savage, "you appear to be an
+honest, sincere young man, very unlike a European. I must enlighten and
+warn your too unsuspecting mind. You have several times called me _your
+dear friend_. Doing this might prove disastrous to you, and then I would
+be in despair. I am not your friend; I am the friend of no one.... Avoid
+me, monsieur; shun my neighborhood, shun my house. Withdraw the
+confidence, that with the carelessness of a traveller you have reposed
+in me.... Adieu!" This _adieu_ was accompanied by a sinister smile and a
+savage look that were anything but reassuring to me. I afterwards
+discovered that the Creole Smollet was a professional bandit!!
+
+I hope, Monsieur de Villiers, that the application of this apologue will
+not escape you. At all events, I will add a few lines to enlighten your
+unsophisticated mind. You have always been my friend, monsieur. You have
+never disclaimed this relation; you have always pressed my hand when we
+met. Your professed friendship justified my confidence, and it would
+have been ungrateful in me to have esteemed you less than I did the
+savage. You and Mad. de Braimes have cunningly organized against me a
+plot of the basest nature. Doubtless you call it a happy combination of
+forces--I call it a perfidious conspiracy. I imagine I hear you and Mad.
+de Braimes at this very moment laughing at your victim as you
+congratulate yourselves on the success of your machinations. It affords
+me pleasure to think that one of these two friends is, perhaps, a man.
+Were they both women I could not demand satisfaction. You deserve my
+gratitude for your great kindness in assisting me when I most needed a
+friend. When I sought Mlle, de Chateaudun with a foolish, blind anxiety,
+you charitably aided me in my efforts to find her. You were my guide, my
+compass, my staff; you led me over roads where Mlle, de Chateaudun never
+thought of going; your guidance was so skilful that at the end of my
+searches you alone found what we had both been vainly seeking. You must
+have been delighted and entertained at the result, monsieur! Did Mad. de
+Braimes laugh very much? Truly, monsieur, you are old beyond your years,
+and your education was not confined to Greek and Latin; your talent for
+acting has been cultivated by a profound study of human nature. You play
+high comedy to perfection, and you should not let your extreme modesty
+prevent your aspiring to a more brilliant theatre. It is a pity that
+your fine acting should be wasted upon me alone. You deserve a larger
+and more appreciative audience! You do not know yourself. I will hold a
+mirror before your eyes; you can affect astonishment, disinterestedness,
+magnanimity, and a constellation of other virtues, blooming like flowers
+in the gardens of the golden age. You are a perfected comedian. If you
+really possessed all the virtues you assume, you would, like Enoch,
+excite the jealousy of Heaven, and be translated to your proper sphere.
+A man of your transcendent virtue would be a moral scourge in our
+corrupt society. He would, by contrast, humiliate his neighbors. In
+these degenerate days such a combination of gifts is antagonistic to
+nature.
+
+Do relieve our anxiety by accepting the title of comedian. Acknowledge
+yourself to be an actor, and our anxious fears are quieted.
+
+I would have my mind set at rest upon one more point. Courage is another
+virtue that can be assumed by a coward, and it would afford me great
+pleasure to see you act the part of a _brave_ comedian.
+
+While waiting for your answer I feel forced to insult you by thinking
+that this last talent is wanting in your rich repertory. Be kind enough
+to deny this imputation, and prove yourself to be a thoroughly
+accomplished actor.
+
+Your admiring audience,
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ COUNT DE VILLIERS,
+Chateau de Villiers, via Gueret (Creuse).
+
+PARIS, Aug. 16th 18--.
+
+Noble hidalgo, illustrious knight of la Mancha; you who are so fond of
+adventures and chivalric deeds, I am about to make you a proposition
+which, I hope, will suit your taste: a fight with sharp weapons, be it
+lance, or axe, or dagger; a struggle to the death, showing neither pity
+nor quarter. I know beforehand what you are going to say: Your native
+generosity will prevent you from fighting a duel with your friend. In
+the first place, I am not your friend; traitors have not that honor. Do
+not let that scruple stop you, refined gentleman.
+
+Your mask has fallen off, dear Tartuffe with the fine feelings. We now
+know to what figures you devote yourself. Before dragging English women
+out of the flames you are well aware of their social position. You save
+friends from bankruptcy at a profit of eighty per cent., and when you
+make love to a grisette, you have her crest and the amount of her income
+in your pocket. In coming to my house, you knew that Louise was Irene.
+Madame de Braimes had acquainted you with all the circumstances during
+your interesting convalescence. All this may seem very natural to others
+and to a virtuous mortal, a Grandison like yourself. But I think
+differently; to me your conduct appears cowardly, base and contemptible.
+I should not be able to control myself, but would endeavor to make you
+comprehend my opinion of you, by slapping you in the face, wherever I
+met you. I hope that you will spare me such a disagreeable alternative
+by consenting to _pose_ for a few moments before my sword or pistol, as
+you please. Allow me to entreat you not to exhibit any grandeur of soul,
+by firing in the air, it would not produce the slightest effect upon me,
+for I should kill you like a dog. Your presence upon the earth annoys
+me, and I do not labor for morality in deeds myself.
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+COMTE DE VILLIERS _to_ MESSRS. ROGER DE MONBERT _and_
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+
+VILLIERS, Aug 18th 18--.
+
+Let us drop such language unworthy of you and of me. We are gentlemen,
+of military descent; our fathers when they did each other the honor that
+you offer me, challenged, but did not insult each other. If the affair
+were equal, if I had only one to contend with, perhaps I might attempt
+to bring him to reason There are two of you; come on, I await you.
+
+COMTE DE VILLIERS XXXIX.
+
+
+VILLIERS, August 21st 18--.
+
+For two days I have been trying to answer your letter, my dear
+Valentine, but I am so uneasy, nervous and excited that I dare not
+commit to paper my wild and troubled thoughts; I am still sane enough to
+accuse myself of madness, but dread to prove it. Were I to write down
+all the strange ideas that rush through my mind, and then read them
+over, conviction of insanity would stare me in the face.
+
+I was right when I told you it was a risk to accept such a wealth of
+happiness; my sweet enchantment is disturbed by dark threatening
+clouds--danger lurks in the air--the lightest word fills me with
+uneasiness--a letter written in a strange hand--an unexpected visitor,
+who leaves Raymond looking preoccupied--everything alarms me, and he
+gently chides me and asks why I look so sad. I say because I am too
+happy; but he thinks this a poor reason for my depression, and to divert
+my thoughts he walks with me through the beautiful valleys and tells me
+of his youth and the golden dreams of his early manhood, and assures me
+that his dreams of happiness are realized beyond his most exalted
+hopes--that he did not believe the angels would permit so perfect a
+being as myself to dwell on earth--that to be loved by me for a day, for
+an hour, he would willingly give up his life, and that such a sacrifice
+was a small price for such a love. I dared not mar his happiness by
+giving expression to my sad fears. His presence allays my apprehensions;
+he has so much confidence in the future that I cannot help being
+inspired with a portion of it; thus, when he is near me, I feel happy
+and reassured, but if he leaves me for a moment I am beset by myriads of
+terrible threatening phantoms. I accuse myself of having been imprudent
+and cruel; I fear I have not, as you say, inspired two undying passions,
+two life-long devotions, but exasperated two vindictive men. I well know
+that M. de Monbert did not love me, and yet I fear his unjust
+resentment. I recall Edgar's absurd breach of faith, and Edgar, whose
+image had until now only seemed ridiculous, Edgar appears before my
+troubled vision furious and threatening. I am haunted by a vague
+remembrance: The day of my wedding, after the benediction, as we were
+leaving the chapel, I was terribly frightened--in the silent gloom of
+the immense church I heard a voice, an angry stifled voice, utter my
+name ... the name I bore at Pont de l'Arche--Louise!... I quickly turned
+around to see whence came this voice that could affect me so powerfully
+at such a moment! I could discover no one.... Louise!... Many women are
+called Louise, it is a common name--perhaps it was some father calling
+his daughter, or some brother his sister. There was nothing remarkable
+in the calling of this name, and yet it filled me with alarm. I recalled
+Edgar's looks on that evening he was so angry with me; the rage gleaming
+in his eyes; the violent contraction of his features, his voice terrible
+and stifled like the voice in the church, and I was now convinced that
+his love was full of haughty pride, selfishness and hatred. But I said
+to myself, if it had been he, he would have followed me and looked in
+our carriage--I would have seen him in the church, or on the portico
+outside.... Besides, why should he have come?... he had given up seeing
+me; he could easily have found me had he so desired; he knew where
+Madame Taverneau's house was in Paris, and he knew that I lived with
+her; if he had hoped to be received by me, he would have simply called
+to pay a visit.... Finally, if he was at this early hour--six in the
+morning--in the church, at so great a distance from where I live, it was
+not to act as a spy upon me. The man who called Louise was not Edgar--it
+could not have been Edgar. This reflection reassured me. I questioned
+Raymond; he had seen no one, heard no one. I remembered that M. de
+Meilhan was not in Paris, and tried to convince myself that it was
+foolish to think of him any more. But yesterday I learned in a letter
+from Madame Taverneau--who as yet knows nothing of my marriage or
+departure from Paris, and will not know, until a year has elapsed, of
+the fortune I have settled upon her--I learned that M. de Meilhan left
+Havre and came direct to Paris. His mother did not tell him that I had
+gone with her to bring him home. When she found that her own influence
+was sufficient to detain him in France, she was silent as to my share in
+the journey. I thank her for it, as I greatly prefer he should remain
+ignorant of the foolish idea I had of sacrificing myself at his shrine
+in order to make his mother happy. But what alarms me is that she keeps
+him in Paris because she knows that he will learn the truth at
+Richeport, and because she hopes that the gayeties around him will more
+quickly make him forget this love that so interfered with her ambitious
+projects. So Edgar _was_ in Paris the day of my wedding ... and perhaps
+... but no, who could have told him anything? I lived three miles from
+the parish where I was married.... It could not have been he ... and yet
+I fear that man.... I remember with what bitterness and spite he spoke
+to me of Raymond, in a letter, filled with unjust reproaches, that he
+wrote me three days after my departure from Richeport. In this letter,
+which I immediately burned, he told me that M. de Villiers was engaged
+to be married to his cousin. O how wretched this information made me! It
+had been broken off years ago, but M. de Villiers thought the engagement
+still existed; he spoke of it as a tie that would prevent his friend
+from indulging in any pretensions to my favor; and yet what malevolence
+there was in his praise of him, what jealous fear in his insolent
+security! How ingenuously he said: "Since I have no cause to fear him,
+why do I hate him?" I now remember this hatred, and it frightens me.
+Aided by Roger he will soon know all; he will discover that Irene de
+Chateaudun and Louise Guerin are the same person, and then two furious
+men will demand an explanation of my trifling with their feelings and
+reproach me with the duplicity of my conduct.... Valentine, do you think
+they could possibly act thus? Valentine! do you think these two men, who
+have so shamefully insulted my memory, so grossly betrayed me and proved
+themselves disgracefully faithless, would dare lay any claims to my
+love? Alas! in spite of the absurdity of such a supposition, Heaven
+knows they are fully capable of acting thus; men in love have such
+relaxed morality, such elastic consciences!
+
+Under pretext of imaginary ungovernable passions, they indulge, without
+compunction, in falsehood, duplicity and the desecration of every
+virtue!... and yet think a pure love can condone and survive such
+unpardonable wrongs. They lightly weigh the tribute due to the
+refinement of a woman's heart. Their devotion is characterized by a
+singular variety. The loyal love of noble women is sacrificed to please
+the whims of those unblushing creatures who pursue such men with
+indelicate attentions and enslave them by flattering their inordinate
+vanity, and they, to preserve their self-love unhurt, pierce and
+mortally wound the generous hearts that live upon their affection and
+revere their very names--these they strike without pity and without
+remorse. And then when the tender love falls from these broken hearts,
+like water from a shattered vase, never to be recovered, they are
+astonished, uneasy, ... they have broken the heart filled with love, and
+now, with stupid surprise and pretended innocence, they ask what has
+become of the love!... they cowardly murdered it, and are indignant that
+it dared to die beneath their cruel blows. But why dwell upon Edgar and
+his anger and hatred, of Roger and his fury? Fate needs not these
+terrible instruments to destroy our happiness; the slightest accident,
+the most trifling imprudence can serve its cruelty; every thing will
+assist it in taking vengeance upon a man revelling in too much love, too
+much love. The cold north wind blowing at night upon his heated brow may
+strike him with the chill of death; the bridge may perfidiously break
+beneath his feet and cast him in the surging torrent below; a lofty
+rock, shivered by the winter frost, may fall upon him and crush him to
+atoms; his favorite horse may be frightened at a shadow and hurl him
+over the threatening precipice ... that child playing in front of my
+window might carelessly strike him on the temple with one of those
+pebbles and kill him....
+
+Oh! Valentine, I am not laboring under an illusion. I see danger; the
+world revolts against pure, unalloyed happiness; society pursues it as
+an offence; nature curses it because of its perfection; to her every
+perfect thing seems a monstrosity not to be borne--directly she suspects
+its existence, she gives the alarm and the elements unite in conspiring
+against this happiness; the thunder-bolt is warned and holds itself in
+readiness to burst over the radiant brow. With human beings all the evil
+passions are simultaneously aroused: secret notice, unknown voices warn
+the envious people of every nation that there is somewhere a great joy
+to be disturbed; that in some corner of the earth two beings exist who
+sought and found each other--two hearts that love with ideal equality
+and intoxicating harmony.... Chance itself, that careless railer, is
+overbearing and jealous towards them; it is angry with these two beings
+who voluntarily sought and conscientiously chose each other without
+waiting for it to confer happiness upon them--it discovers their names,
+that never knows the name of any one, and pursues them with its
+animosity; it recovers its sight in order to recognise and strike them.
+I feel that we are too happy! Death stares us in the face! My soul
+shudders with fear! On earth we are not allowed to taste of supreme
+delight--pure, unalloyed happiness--to feel at once that ecstasy of soul
+and delirium of passion--that pride of love and loftiness of a pure
+conscience ... burning joys are only permitted to culpable love. When
+two unfortunate beings, bound by detested ties, meet and mutually
+recognise the ideals of their dreams, they are allowed to love each
+other because they have met too late, because this immense joy, this
+finding one's ideal, is poisoned by remorse and shame. Their criminal
+happiness can remain undisturbed because it is criminal; it has the
+conditions of life, frailty and misery; it bears the impress of sin,
+therefore it belongs to a common humanity.... But find ideal bliss in a
+legitimate union, find it in time to welcome it without shame and
+cherish it without remorse; be happy as a lover and honored as a wife;
+to experience the wild ardor of love and preserve the charming freshness
+of purity--to delight in obeying the equitable law of the most
+harmonious love by being alternately a slave and a queen; to call upon
+him who calls upon you; seek him who seeks you; love him who loves
+you--in a word, to be the idol of your idol!... it is too much, it
+surpasses human happiness, it is stealing fire from heaven--it is, I
+tell you, incurring the punishment of death!
+
+In my enthusiasm I already stand upon the boundary of the true world---
+I have a glimpse of paradise; earth recedes from my gaze; I understand
+and expect death, because life has bid me a last farewell--the
+exaltation that I feel belongs to the future of the blessed; it is a
+triumphant dying--that final and supremely happy thought that tells me
+my soul is about to take its flight.
+
+Oh! merciful God! my brain is on fire! and why do I write you these
+incoherent thoughts! Valentine, you see all excessive emotions are
+alike; the delirium of joy resembles the frenzy of despair. Having
+attained the summit of happiness, what do we see at our feet?... a
+yawning abyss!... we have lost the steep path by which we so painfully
+reached the top; once there, we have no means of gradually descending
+the declivity ... from so great a height we cannot walk, we fall!
+
+There is but one way of preserving happiness--abjure it--never welcome
+it; sometimes it delights in visiting ungrateful people. Vainly do I
+seek to reassure myself by expiation, by sacrifices; during these eight
+days I have been lavishly giving gold in the neighborhood, I have
+endowed all the children, fed the poor, enriched the hospitals; I would
+willingly ruin myself by generous charity, by magnificent donations--I
+would cheerfully give my entire fortune to obtain rest and peace for my
+troubled mind.
+
+Every morning I enter the empty church and fervently pray that God will
+permit me by some great sacrifice to insure my happiness. I implore him
+to inflict upon me hard trials, great humiliations, intense pain,
+sufferings beyond any strength, but to have mercy upon my poor heart and
+spare me Raymond ... to leave me a little longer Raymond, ...
+
+Raymond and his love!
+
+But these tears and prayers will be vain--Raymond himself, without
+understanding his presentiments, instinctively feels that his end is
+approaching. His purity of soul, his magnanimity, the unexampled
+disinterestedness of his conduct, are indications--these sublime virtues
+are symptoms of death--this generosity, this disinterestedness are tacit
+adieux. Raymond possesses none of the weaknesses of men destined for a
+long life; he has indulged in none of the wicked passions of the age--he
+has kept himself apart, observing but not sharing the actions of men. He
+regards life as if he were a pilgrim, and takes no part in any of its
+turmoils--he has not bargained for any of its disenchantments; his great
+pride, his life-long, unbending loyalty have concealed a mournful
+secret; he has stood aloof because he was convinced of his untimely end.
+He feels self-reliant because he will only have a short time to
+struggle; he is joyous and proud, because he looks upon the victory as
+already won ... I weep as I admire him.
+
+Alas! am I to regard with sorrow and fear these noble qualities--these
+seductive traits that won my love? Is it because he deserves to be loved
+more than any being on earth has ever been loved, that I tremble for
+him! Valentine, does not such an excess of happiness excite your pity?
+
+Ever since early this morning, I have been suffering torment--Raymond
+left me for a few hours--he went to Gueret; one of his cousins returning
+from the waters of Neris was to pass through there at ten o'clock, and
+requested him to meet her at the hotel. Nothing is more natural, and I
+have no reason to be alarmed--yet this short absence disturbs me as much
+as if it were to last years--it makes me sad--it is the first time we
+have been separated so long a time during these eight blissful days.
+
+Ah! how I love him, and how heavy hangs time on my hands during his
+absence!
+
+One thought comforts me in my present state of exaltation; I am unequal
+to any great misfortune.... A fatal piece of news, a painful sight, a
+false alarm ... a certain dreaded name mingled with one that I
+adore--ah! a false report, although immediately contradicted, would
+kill me on the spot--I could not live the two minutes it would require
+to hear the denial--the truth happily demonstrated. This thought
+consoles me--if my happiness is to end, I shall die with it.
+
+Valentine, it is two o'clock! Oh! why does Raymond not return? My heart
+sinks--my hand trembles so that I can scarcely hold the pen--my eyes
+grow dim.... What can detain him? He left at eight, and should have
+returned long ago. I know well that the relative he went to see might
+have been delayed on the road--she may have mistaken the time, women are
+so ignorant about travelling--they never understand the timetables.
+
+All this tells me I am wrong to be uneasy--and yet ... I shudder at
+every sound.... his horse is so fiery.... I am astonished that Raymond
+did not let me read his relative's letter; he said he had left it on his
+table ... but I looked on the table and it was not there. I wished to
+read the letter so as to find out the exact time he was to be at Gueret,
+and then I could tell when to expect him home.
+
+But this relative is the mother of the girl he was to have married....
+perhaps she still loves him.... is she with her mother?... Ah! what an
+absurd idea! I am so uneasy that I divert my mind by being jealous--to
+avoid thinking of possible dangers, I conjure up impossible ones.... Oh!
+my God! it is not his love I doubt ... his love equals mine--it is the
+intensity of his love that frightens me--it is in this love so pure, so
+perfect, so divine--in this complete happiness that the danger lies. Is
+it not sinful to idolize one of God's creatures, when this adoration is
+due to God alone--to devote one's whole existence to a human being, for
+his sake to forget everything else? This is the sin before Heaven ...
+
+Oh! if I could only see him, and once more hear his voice! That blessed
+voice I love so much! How miserable I am!... What agony I suffer!... I
+stifle ... my brain whirls--my mind is so confused that I cannot think
+... this torture is worse than death ... And then if he should suddenly
+appear before me, what joy!... Oh! I don't wish him to enter the room
+at once--I would like one minute to prepare myself for the happiness of
+seeing him ... one single moment.... If he were to abruptly enter, I
+would become frantic with joy as I embraced him!
+
+My dear Valentine, what a torment is love!... It is utterly impossible
+for me to support another hour of this agitation. I am sure I have a
+fever--I shiver with cold--I burn--my brain is on fire....
+
+As I write this to you, seated at the window, I eagerly watch the long
+avenue by which he must return.... I write a word ... a whole line so as
+to give him time to approach, hoping I will see him coming when I raise
+my eyes--.... After writing each line I look again.... nothing appears
+in the distance; I see neither his horse nor the cloud of dust that
+would announce his approach. The clock strikes! three o'clock!...
+Valentine! it is fearful ... hope deserts me ... all is lost ... I feel
+myself dying ... Instinct tells me that some dreadful tragedy, ruinous
+to me, is now enacting on this earth.... Ah! my heart breaks ... I
+suffer torture.... Raymond! Raymond! Valentine! my mother! help!...
+help!... I see a horse rushing up the avenue ... but it is not Raymond's
+... ah! it _is_ his ... but ... I don't see Raymond ... the saddle is
+empty ... God!
+
+This unfinished letter of the Comtesse de Villiers to Madame de Braimes
+bore neither address nor signature.
+
+
+
+
+XL.
+
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT _to_ MONSIEUR EDGAR DE MEILHAN,
+Hotel de Bellevue, Bruxelles (Belgique).
+
+You are now at Brussels, my dear Edgar, at least for my own peace of
+mind I hope so. Although I fear not for you the rigors of the law, still
+I am anxious to know that you are on a safe and hospitable shore.
+
+Criminal trials, even when they have a favorable issue, are injurious.
+In your case it is necessary to keep concealed, await the result of
+public opinion, and let future events regulate your conduct. Besides, as
+there is no law about duelling, you must distrust the courts of justice.
+The day will come when some jury, tired of so many acquittals, will
+agree upon a conviction. Your case may be decided by this jury--so it is
+only prudent for you to disappear, and abide the issue.
+
+Things have entirely changed during my ten years' absence; all this is
+new to me. Immediately after the duel I obeyed your instructions, and
+went to see your lawyer, Delestong. With the exception of a few
+omissions, I was obliged to relate everything that happened. I must tell
+you exactly what I said and what I left unsaid, so that if we are
+summoned before the court our testimony shall not conflict.
+
+It was unnecessary to relate what passed between us before the duel, so
+I merely said we had drawn lots as to who should be the avenger, and who
+the second; nor did I deem it proper to explain the serious causes of
+the duel, as it would have resulted in a long story, and the bringing in
+of women's names at every turn, an unpardonable thing in a man. I simply
+said the cause was serious, and of a nature to fully justify a deadly
+meeting; that we, Monsieur de Meilhan and myself, left Gueret at six
+o'clock in the morning; when three miles from the town, we left the
+high-road of Limoges and entered that part of the woods called the
+Little Cascade, where we dismounted and awaited the arrival of M. de
+Villiers, who, in a few minutes, rode up to us, accompanied by two
+army-officers as seconds. We exchanged bows at a distance of ten feet,
+but nothing was said until the elder of the officers advanced towards
+me, shook my hand, and drawing me aside, began: "We military men dare
+not refuse to act on this occasion as seconds when summoned by a brave
+man, but we always come with the hope of effecting a reconciliation.
+These young men are hot-headed. There is some pretty woman at the root
+of the difficulty, and they are acting the roles of foolish rivals. The
+day has passed for men to fight about such silly things; it is no longer
+the fashion. Now, cannot we arrange this matter satisfactorily, without
+injuring the pride of these gentlemen?"
+
+"Monsieur," I replied, "it is with profound regret that I decline making
+any amicable settlement of this affair. Under any other circumstances I
+would share your peaceable sentiments; as it is, we have come here with
+a fixed determination. If you knew--"
+
+"Do tell me the provocation--I am very anxious to learn it," said the
+officer, interrupting me, eagerly.
+
+"You ask what is impossible," I replied; "nothing could alter our
+determination. We fully made up our minds before coming here."
+
+"That being the case, monsieur," said he, "my friend and I will
+withdraw; we decline to countenance a murder."
+
+"If you retire, captain," I responded, pressing his hand, "I will also
+leave, and not be answerable for the result--and what will be the
+consequence? I can assure you, upon my honor, that these gentlemen will
+fight without seconds."
+
+The officer bowed and waved his hand, in sign of forced acquiescence.
+After a short pause, he continued: "We have entered upon a very
+distasteful affair, and the sooner it is ended the better. Have they
+decided upon the weapons?"
+
+"They have decided, monsieur, to draw lots for the choice of arms," I
+replied.
+
+"Then," he cried, "there has been no insult given or received; they are
+both in the right and both in the wrong."
+
+"Exactly so, captain."
+
+"I suppose we will have to consent to it. Let us draw for the weapons,
+since it is agreed upon."
+
+The lot fell on the sword.
+
+"With this weapon," I said, "all the disadvantages are on the side of M.
+de Meilhan; the skilful fencing of his adversary is celebrated among
+amateurs. He is one of Pons's best scholars."
+
+"Have you brought a surgeon?" said the captain.
+
+"Yes, monsieur, we left Dr. Gillard in a house near by."
+
+As you see, dear Edgar, I shall lay great stress upon the disadvantages
+you labored under in using the sword; and, when necessary, I shall
+express in eloquent terms the agony I felt when I saw your hand, more
+skilful in handling the pen than the sword, hesitatingly grasp the hilt.
+
+I finished my deposition in these words: "When the distance had been
+settled, by casting lots, we handed our principals two swords exactly
+alike; one of the adverse seconds and myself stood three steps off with
+our canes raised in order to separate them at all risk, if necessary, in
+obedience to the characteristically French injunction of the duelling
+code as laid down by M. Chateunvillard.
+
+"At the given signal the swords were bravely crossed; Edgar, with the
+boldness of heroic inexperience, bravely attacked his adversary.
+Raymond, compelled to defend himself, was astonished. At this terrible
+moment, when thought paralyzes action, he was absorbed in thought. The
+contest was brief. Edgar's sword, only half parried, pierced his rival's
+heart. The surgeon came to gaze upon a lifeless corpse.
+
+"Edgar mounted his horse, rode off and I have not seen him since. Those
+who remained rendered the last offices to the dead."
+
+I am obliged to write you these facts, my dear Edgar, not for
+information, but to recall them to you in their exact order; and
+especially, I repeat, in order to avoid contradiction on the
+witness-stand. Now I must write you of what you are ignorant.
+
+I had a duty to fulfil, much more terrible than yours, and I was obliged
+to recall our execrable oath in order to renew courage and strength to
+keep my promise.
+
+Before we had cast lots for the leading part in this duel, we swore to
+go ourselves to the house of this woman and announce to her the issue of
+the combat, if it proved favorable to us. In the delirium of angry
+excitement, filling our burning hearts at the moment, this oath appeared
+to be the most reasonable thing in the world. Our blood boiled with such
+violent hatred against him and her that it seemed just for vengeance,
+with refined cruelty, to step over a corpse and pursue its work ere its
+second victim had donned her widow's robes.
+
+Edgar! Edgar! when I saw that blood flowing, when I saw life and youth
+converted into an inanimate mass of clay, when you left me alone on this
+inanimate theatre of death, my feelings underwent a sudden revolution;
+this moment seemed to age me a half a century, and without lessening my
+hatred, only left me a confused perception of it, with a vague memory
+full of disenchantment and sadness.
+
+The crime was great, it is true, but what a terrible expiation! What
+hellish torture heaped upon him at once! To lose all at the point of the
+sword, all!--youth, fortune, love, wife, celestial joys, beautiful
+nature and the light of the sun!
+
+However, dear Edgar, I remembered our solemn promise; and as you were
+not here to release me, I was obliged to fulfil it to the letter. And
+then again, shall I say it, this humane consideration did not extend to
+the offending woman; my heart was still filled with a sentiment that has
+no name in the language of the passions!--A mixture of hatred, love,
+jealousy, scorn and despair.
+
+She was not dead! A man had been sacrificed as a victim upon the altar
+of this goddess: that was all.
+
+Do not women require amusement of this sort?
+
+She would live; to-day, she would weep; to-morrow, seek the common path
+of consolation. One victim is not enough to gratify her cruel vanity!
+She must be quickly consoled, that she might be ready to receive fresh
+sacrifices in her temple.
+
+My heart filled with angry passions awakened by these thoughts, I
+spurred my horse, and hastened in the direction of the house that had
+been described to me the day before. I soon recognised the picturesque
+spot, where this accursed house lay concealed in the midst of beautiful
+trees and smiling waters.
+
+An electric shock must have communicated to you, dear Edgar, the
+oppression of heart I felt at the sight of the landscape. There was the
+history of love in every tree and flower. There was an ineffable record
+in the hedges of the valleys; loving caresses in the murmur of the
+water-lilies; ecstasies of lovers in the quivering of the leaves; divine
+intoxication in the exhalations of the wild flowers, and in the lights,
+shadows and gentle breezes under the mysterious alcoves of the trees.
+Oh! how happy they must have been in this paradise! The whole air was
+filled with the life of their love and happiness! There must have been
+present a supernatural and invisible being, who was a jealous witness of
+this wedded bliss, and who made use of your sword to destroy it! So much
+happiness was an offence before heaven. We have been the blind
+instrument of a wrathful spirit. But what mattered death after such a
+day of perfect bliss! After having tasted the most exquisite tenderness
+in the world! When looking at the proud young husband sitting in this
+flowery bower, with the soft starlight revealing his happy face as he
+tenderly and hopefully gazed on his lovely bride, who would not have
+exclaimed with the poet,
+
+  "My life for a moment of bliss like this."
+
+Who would not have welcomed your sword-thrust as the price of a moment's
+duration of such divine joy?
+
+The survivors are the unfortunate ones, because they saw but could not
+taste this happiness.
+
+Infernal Tantalus of the delights of Paradise, because their dream has
+become the reality of another, and lawful vengeance leaves them a
+satisfaction poisoned by remorse!
+
+Come with me, dear Edgar, in my sad pilgrimage to this accursed house,
+and with me behold the closing scene. I left the shade of the woods and
+approached the lawn, that, like an immense terrace of grass and flowers,
+spread before the house. I saw many strange things, and with that
+comprehensive, sweeping glance of feverish excitement; two horses
+covered with foam, their saddles empty and bridles dragging, trampled
+down the flower-borders. One horse was Raymond's, returned riderless!
+Doubtless brought home by the servant who had accompanied him.
+
+Not a face was visible, in the sun, the shade, the orchard, on the
+steps, or at the windows. I observed in the garden two rakes lying on
+some beautiful lilies; they had not been carefully laid down, but
+dropped in the midst of the flowers, on hearing some cry of distress
+from the house.
+
+One window was open; the rich curtains showed it to be the room of a
+woman; the carelessly pushed open blinds proved that an anxious watcher
+had passed long hours of feverish expectation at the window. A desolate
+silence reigned around the house; this silence was fearful, and at an
+hour of the day when all is life and animation, in harmony with the
+singing birds and rippling waters.
+
+I ascended the steps, mechanically noticing the beautiful flowers
+clustering about the railing; flowers take a part in every catastrophe
+of life. On the threshold, I forgot myself to think of you, to live with
+your spirit, to walk with your feet, for my own resolution would have
+failed me at this fatal moment.
+
+In the vestibule I looked through a half-open folding-door, and, in the
+funereal darkness, saw some peasantry kneeling and praying. No head was
+raised to look at me. I slowly entered the room with my eyes downcast,
+and lids swollen with tears I forcibly restrained. In a recess, lying on
+a sofa, was something white and motionless, the sight of which froze my
+blood.... It was--I cannot write her name, Edgar--it was she. My
+troubled gaze could not discover whether dead or living. She seemed to
+be sleeping, with her hair lying carelessly about the pillow, in the
+disorder of a morning repose.
+
+Near by was a young man-servant, his vest spotted with blood; with face
+buried in his hands he was weeping bitterly.
+
+Near her head a window was raised to admit the fresh air. This window
+opened on an inner courtyard, very gloomy on account of the masses of
+leaves that seemed to drop from the walls and fill it with sombreness.
+
+Two men dressed in black, with faces more melancholy-looking than their
+garments, were in this courtyard, talking in low tones; through the
+window I could only see their heads and shoulders. I merely glanced at
+them; my eyes, my sorrow, my hatred, my love were all concentrated upon
+this woman. Absorbed by a heart-rending gaze, an instinct rather than
+idea rooted me to the spot.
+
+I waited for her to recover her senses, to open her eyes, not to add to
+her anguish by a word or look of mine, but to let her see me standing
+there, a living, silent accusation. Some farmer-boys entered with
+lighted candles, a cross and basin of holy-water. In the disorder of my
+mind, I understood nothing, but slowly walked out on the terrace, with
+the vague idea of breathing a little fresh air and returning.
+
+The serenity of the sky, the brightness of the sun, the green trees, the
+fragrant flowers, the songs of the birds, offered an ironical contrast
+to the scene of mourning. Often does nature refuse to countenance human
+sorrows, because they are ungrateful to her goodness. She creates the
+wonders of heaven to make us happy; we evoke the secrets of hell to
+torture our souls and bodies. Nature is right to scorn our
+self-inflicted sorrows.
+
+You see, my dear Edgar, that I make you share all of my torments, all of
+my gloomy reflections. I make you live over this hour, minute by minute,
+agony on agony, as I suffered it myself.
+
+I stood aside under a tree, waiting I know not for what; one of the men
+in black, I had seen from the window, came down the steps of the terrace
+and advanced towards me. I made some confused remark; the situation
+supplied it with intelligence.
+
+"You are a relation, a friend, an acquaintance?" he said, inquiringly.
+
+"Yes, monsieur."
+
+"It is a terrible misfortune," he added, clasping his hands and bowing
+his head; "or rather say two terrible misfortunes in one day; the poor
+woman is also dead." ...
+
+Like one in a dream I heard the latter remark, and I now transcribe it
+to you as my impression of something that occurred long, long ago,
+although I know it took place yesterday.
+
+"Yes, dead," he went on to say; "we were called in too late. Bleeding
+would have relieved the brain. It was a violent congestion; we have
+similar cases during our practice. An immense loss to the community. A
+woman who was young, beautiful as an angel, and charity itself....
+Dead!"
+
+He looked up, raised his hand to heaven, and walked rapidly away.
+
+I am haunted by a memory that nothing can dispel. This spectre doubtless
+follows you too, dear Edgar. It is a mute, eloquent image fashioned in
+the empty air, like the outline of a grave; a phantom that the sun
+drives not away, pursuing me by day and by night. It is Raymond's face
+as he stood opposite to you on the field of death, his brow, his eye,
+his lips, his whole bearing breathing the noblest sentiments that were
+ever buried in an undeserved grave. This heroic young man met us with
+the fatal conviction that his last hour had come; he felt towards us
+neither hatred nor contempt; he obeyed the inexorable exigencies of the
+hour, without accusation, without complaint.
+
+The silence of Raymond clothed in sublime delicacy his friendship for
+us, and his love for her. His manner expressed neither the resignation
+that calls for pity nor the pride that provokes passion; his countenance
+shone with modest serenity, the offspring of a grand resolve.
+
+In a few days of conjugal bliss he had wandered through the flowery
+paths of human felicity; he had exhausted the measure of divine
+beatitude allotted to man on earth, and he stood nerved for the
+inevitable and bloody expiation of his happiness.
+
+All this was written on Raymond's face.
+
+Edgar! Edgar! we were too relentless. Why should honor, the noblest of
+our virtues, be the parent of so much remorse?
+
+Adieu.
+
+ROGER DE MONBERT.
+
+
+
+
+XLI.
+
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN _to the_ PRINCE DE MONBERT,
+St. Dominique Street, Paris (France).
+
+Do not be uneasy, dear Roger; I have reached the frontier without being
+pursued; the news of the fatal duel had not yet spread abroad. I thank
+you, all the same, for the letter which you have written me, and in
+which you trace the line of conduct I should pursue in case of arrest.
+The moment a magistrate interferes, the clearest and least complicated
+affair assumes an appearance of guilt. However, it would have been all
+the same to me if I had been arrested and condemned. I fled more on your
+account than on my own. No human interest can ever again influence me;
+Raymond's death has ended my life!
+
+What an inexplicable enigma is the human heart! When I saw Raymond
+facing me upon the ground, an uncontrollable rage took possession of me.
+The heavenly resignation of his face seemed infamous and finished
+hypocrisy. I said to myself: "He apes the angel, the wretch!" and I
+regretted that custom interposed a sword between him and my hatred. It
+seemed so coldly ceremonious, I would have liked to tear his bosom open
+with my nails and gnaw his heart out with my teeth. I knew that I would
+kill him; I already saw the red lips of his wound outlined upon his
+breast by the pale finger of death. When my steel crossed his, I
+attempted neither thrusts nor parries. I had forgotten the little
+fencing I knew. I fought at random, almost with my eyes shut; but had my
+adversary been St. George or Grisier, the result would have been the
+same.
+
+When Raymond fell I experienced a profound astonishment; something
+within me broke which no hand will ever be able to restore! A gulf
+opened before me which can never be filled! I stood there, gloomily
+gazing upon the purple stream that flowed from the narrow wound,
+fascinated in spite of myself by this spectacle of immobility succeeding
+action, death succeeding life, without shade or transition; this young
+man, who a moment before was radiant with life and hope, now lay
+motionless before me, as impossible to resuscitate as Cheops under his
+pyramid. I was rooted to the spot, unconsciously repeating to myself
+Lady Macbeth's piteous cry: "Who would have thought the man to have had
+so much blood in him?"
+
+They led me away; I allowed them to put me into the carriage like a
+thing without strength or motion. The excitement of anger was succeeded
+by an icy calmness; I had neither memory, thought nor plans; I was
+annihilated; I would have liked to stop, throw myself on the ground and
+lie there for ever. I felt no remorse, I had not even the consciousness
+of my crime; the thought that I was a murderer had not yet had time to
+fix itself in my mind; I felt no connection whatever with the deed that
+I had done, and asked myself if it was I, Edgar de Meilhan, who had
+killed Raymond! It seemed as if I had been only a looker-on.
+
+As to Irene, the innocent cause of this horrible catastrophe, I scarcely
+thought of her; she only appeared to me a faint phantom seen in another
+existence! My love, my longings, my jealousy had all vanished. One drop
+of Raymond's warm blood had stilled my mad vehemence. She is dead, poor
+darling, it is the only happiness that I could wish her; her death
+lessens my despair. If she lived, no torture, no penance could be fierce
+enough to expiate my crime! No hermit of the desert would lash his
+quivering flesh more pitilessly than I!
+
+Rest in peace, dear Louise, for you will always be Louise to me, even in
+heaven, which I shall never reach, for I have killed my brother and
+belong to the race of Cain; I do not pity thee, for thou hast clasped in
+thy arms the dream of thy heart. Thou hast been happy; and happiness is
+a crime punishable on earth by death, as is genius and divinity.
+
+You will forgive me! for I caught a glimpse of the angel through the
+woman. I also sought my ideal and found it. O beautiful loving being!
+why did your faith fail you, why did you doubt the love you inspired!
+Alas! I thought you a faithless coquette; you were conscientious; your
+heart was a treasure that you could not reclaim, and you wished to
+bestow it worthily! Now I know all; we always know all when it is too
+late, when the seal of the irreparable is fixed upon events! You came to
+Havre, poor beauty, to find me, and fled believing yourself deceived;
+you could not read my despair through my fictitious joy; you took my
+mask for my real countenance, the intoxication of my body for the
+oblivion of my soul! In the midst of my orgie, at the very moment when
+my foot pressed on the Ethiop's body, your azure eyes illumined my
+dream, your blonde tresses rippled before me like golden waters of
+Paradise; thoughts of you filled my mind like a vase with divine
+essence! never have I loved you better; I loved you better than the
+condemned man, standing on the last step of the scaffold, loves life,
+than Satan loves heaven from the depths of hell! My heart, if opened,
+would have exhibited your name written in all its fibres, like the grain
+of wood which runs through the whole tree. Every particle of my being
+belonged to you; thoughts of you pervaded me, in every sense, as light
+passes through the air. Your life was substituted for mine; I no longer
+possessed either free will or wish.
+
+For a moment you paused upon the brink of the abyss, and started back
+affrighted; for no woman can gaze, unflinchingly, into the depths of
+man's heart; precipices always have frightened you--dear angel, as if
+you had not wings! If you had paused an instant longer, you would have
+seen far, far in the gloom in a firmament of bright stars, your adored
+image.
+
+Vain regrets! useless lamentation! The damp and dark earth covers her
+delicate form! Her beautiful eyes, her pure brow, her fascinating smile
+we shall never see again--never--never--if we live thousands of years.
+Every hour that passes but widens the distance between us. Her beauty
+will fade in the tomb, her name be lost in oblivion! For soon we shall
+have disappeared, pale forms bending over a marble tomb!
+
+It is very sad, sinister and terrible, but yet it is best so. See her in
+the arms of another: Roger! what have we done to God to be damned
+alive! I can pity Raymond, since death separates him from Louise. May he
+forgive me! He will, for he was a grand, a noble, a perfect friend. We
+both failed to appreciate him, as a matter of course; folly and baseness
+are alone comprehended here below!
+
+We ran a desperate race for happiness! One alone attained it--dead!
+
+EDGAR DE MEILHAN.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
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