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diff --git a/3918-h/3918-h.htm b/3918-h/3918-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..34dd99d --- /dev/null +++ b/3918-h/3918-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12515 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Serge Panine, by Georges Ohnet + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet + +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: Serge Panine, Complete + +Author: Georges Ohnet + +Release Date: October 4, 2006 [EBook #3918] +[Last updated: August 23, 2016] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SERGE PANINE, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + SERGE PANINE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Georges Ohnet + </h2> + <p> + With a General Introduction to the Series by GASTON BOISSIER, <br />Secretaire + Perpetuel de l’academie Francaise. <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> GENERAL INTRODUCTION </a><br /> <br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> GEORGES OHNET </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>SERGE PANINE</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0004"> <b>BOOK 1.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>THE HOUSE OF DESVARENNES <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>THE GALLEY-SLAVE OF PLEASURE + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>PIERRE RETURNS + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>THE RIVALS <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>A CRITICAL INTERVIEW <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>A SIGNIFICANT MEETING <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> <b>BOOK 2.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>JEANNE’S SECRET <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>CAYROL’S DISAPPOINTMENT <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>CONFESSION <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>THE FETE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>BOOK 3.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> THE FIRST BREAK <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>A SUDDEN JOURNEY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>MOTHER AND DAUGHTER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>THE TELLTALE KISS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>CAYROL IS BLIND <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0024"> <b>BOOK 4.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> THE + UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER + XIX. </a>SIN GROWS BOLDER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER + XX. </a>THE CRISIS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a>"WHEN + ROGUES FALL OUT” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a>THE + MOTHER’S REVENGE <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + GENERAL INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <h3> + 1905 + </h3> + <p> + BY ROBERT ARNOT + </p> + <p> + The editor-in-chief of the Maison Mazarin—a man of letters who + cherishes an enthusiastic yet discriminating love for the literary and + artistic glories of France—formed within the last two years the + great project of collecting and presenting to the vast numbers of + intelligent readers of whom New World boasts a series of those great and + undying romances which, since 1784, have received the crown of merit + awarded by the French Academy—that coveted assurance of immortality + in letters and in art. + </p> + <p> + In the presentation of this serious enterprise for the criticism and + official sanction of The Academy, ‘en seance’, was included a request + that, if possible, the task of writing a preface to the series should be + undertaken by me. Official sanction having been bestowed upon the plan, I, + as the accredited officer of the French Academy, convey to you its hearty + appreciation, endorsement, and sympathy with a project so nobly artistic. + It is also my duty, privilege, and pleasure to point out, at the request + of my brethren, the peculiar importance and lasting value of this series + to all who would know the inner life of a people whose greatness no turns + of fortune have been able to diminish. + </p> + <p> + In the last hundred years France has experienced the most terrible + vicissitudes, but, vanquished or victorious, triumphant or abased, never + has she lost her peculiar gift of attracting the curiosity of the world. + She interests every living being, and even those who do not love her + desire to know her. To this peculiar attraction which radiates from her, + artists and men of letters can well bear witness, since it is to + literature and to the arts, before all, that France owes such living and + lasting power. In every quarter of the civilized world there are + distinguished writers, painters, and eminent musicians, but in France they + exist in greater numbers than elsewhere. Moreover, it is universally + conceded that French writers and artists have this particular and + praiseworthy quality: they are most accessible to people of other + countries. Without losing their national characteristics, they possess the + happy gift of universality. To speak of letters alone: the books that + Frenchmen write are read, translated, dramatized, and imitated everywhere; + so it is not strange that these books give to foreigners a desire for a + nearer and more intimate acquaintance with France. + </p> + <p> + Men preserve an almost innate habit of resorting to Paris from almost + every quarter of the globe. For many years American visitors have been + more numerous than others, although the journey from the United States is + long and costly. But I am sure that when for the first time they see Paris—its + palaces, its churches, its museums—and visit Versailles, + Fontainebleau, and Chantilly, they do not regret the travail they have + undergone. Meanwhile, however, I ask myself whether such sightseeing is + all that, in coming hither, they wish to accomplish. Intelligent + travellers—and, as a rule, it is the intelligent class that feels + the need of the educative influence of travel—look at our beautiful + monuments, wander through the streets and squares among the crowds that + fill them, and, observing them, I ask myself again: Do not such people + desire to study at closer range these persons who elbow them as they pass; + do they not wish to enter the houses of which they see but the facades; do + they not wish to know how Parisians live and speak and act by their + firesides? But time, alas! is lacking for the formation of those intimate + friendships which would bring this knowledge within their grasp. French + homes are rarely open to birds of passage, and visitors leave us with + regret that they have not been able to see more than the surface of our + civilization or to recognize by experience the note of our inner home + life. + </p> + <p> + How, then, shall this void be filled? Speaking in the first person, the + simplest means appears to be to study those whose profession it is to + describe the society of the time, and primarily, therefore, the works of + dramatic writers, who are supposed to draw a faithful picture of it. So we + go to the theatre, and usually derive keen pleasure therefrom. But is + pleasure all that we expect to find? What we should look for above + everything in a comedy or a drama is a representation, exact as possible, + of the manners and characters of the dramatis persona of the play; and + perhaps the conditions under which the play was written do not allow such + representation. The exact and studied portrayal of a character demands + from the author long preparation, and cannot be accomplished in a few + hours. From, the first scene to the last, each tale must be posed in the + author’s mind exactly as it will be proved to be at the end. It is the + author’s aim and mission to place completely before his audience the souls + of the “agonists” laying bare the complications of motive, and throwing + into relief the delicate shades of motive that sway them. Often, too, the + play is produced before a numerous audience—an audience often + distrait, always pressed for time, and impatient of the least delay. + Again, the public in general require that they shall be able to understand + without difficulty, and at first thought, the characters the author seeks + to present, making it necessary that these characters be depicted from + their most salient sides—which are too often vulgar and + unattractive. + </p> + <p> + In our comedies and dramas it is not the individual that is drawn, but the + type. Where the individual alone is real, the type is a myth of the + imagination—a pure invention. And invention is the mainspring of the + theatre, which rests purely upon illusion, and does not please us unless + it begins by deceiving us. + </p> + <p> + I believe, then, that if one seeks to know the world exactly as it is, the + theatre does not furnish the means whereby one can pursue the study. A far + better opportunity for knowing the private life of a people is available + through the medium of its great novels. The novelist deals with each + person as an individual. He speaks to his reader at an hour when the mind + is disengaged from worldly affairs, and he can add without restraint every + detail that seems needful to him to complete the rounding of his story. He + can return at will, should he choose, to the source of the plot he is + unfolding, in order that his reader may better understand him; he can + emphasize and dwell upon those details which an audience in a theatre will + not allow. + </p> + <p> + The reader, being at leisure, feels no impatience, for he knows that he + can at any time lay down or take up the book. It is the consciousness of + this privilege that gives him patience, should he encounter a dull page + here or there. He may hasten or delay his reading, according to the + interest he takes in his romance-nay, more, he can return to the earlier + pages, should he need to do so, for a better comprehension of some obscure + point. In proportion as he is attracted and interested by the romance, and + also in the degree of concentration with which he reads it, does he grasp + better the subtleties of the narrative. No shade of character drawing + escapes him. He realizes, with keener appreciation, the most delicate of + human moods, and the novelist is not compelled to introduce the characters + to him, one by one, distinguishing them only by the most general + characteristics, but can describe each of those little individual + idiosyncrasies that contribute to the sum total of a living personality. + </p> + <p> + When I add that the dramatic author is always to a certain extent a slave + to the public, and must ever seek to please the passing taste of his time, + it will be recognized that he is often, alas! compelled to sacrifice his + artistic leanings to popular caprice-that is, if he has the natural desire + that his generation should applaud him. + </p> + <p> + As a rule, with the theatre-going masses, one person follows the fads or + fancies of others, and individual judgments are too apt to be irresistibly + swayed by current opinion. But the novelist, entirely independent of his + reader, is not compelled to conform himself to the opinion of any person, + or to submit to his caprices. He is absolutely free to picture society as + he sees it, and we therefore can have more confidence in his descriptions + of the customs and characters of the day. + </p> + <p> + It is precisely this view of the case that the editor of the series has + taken, and herein is the raison d’etre of this collection of great French + romances. The choice was not easy to make. That form of literature called + the romance abounds with us. France has always loved it, for French + writers exhibit a curiosity—and I may say an indiscretion—that + is almost charming in the study of customs and morals at large; a quality + that induces them to talk freely of themselves and of their neighbors, and + to set forth fearlessly both the good and the bad in human nature. In this + fascinating phase of literature, France never has produced greater + examples than of late years. + </p> + <p> + In the collection here presented to American readers will be found those + works especially which reveal the intimate side of French social + life-works in which are discussed the moral problems that affect most + potently the life of the world at large. If inquiring spirits seek to + learn the customs and manners of the France of any age, they must look for + it among her crowned romances. They need go back no farther than Ludovic + Halevy, who may be said to open the modern epoch. In the romantic school, + on its historic side, Alfred de Vigny must be looked upon as supreme. De + Musset and Anatole France may be taken as revealing authoritatively the + moral philosophy of nineteenth-century thought. I must not omit to mention + the Jacqueline of Th. Bentzon, and the “Attic” Philosopher of Emile + Souvestre, nor the great names of Loti, Claretie, Coppe, Bazin, Bourget, + Malot, Droz, De Massa, and last, but not least, our French Dickens, + Alphonse Daudet. I need not add more; the very names of these “Immortals” + suffice to commend the series to readers in all countries. + </p> + <p> + One word in conclusion: America may rest assured that her students of + international literature will find in this series of ‘ouvrages couronnes’ + all that they may wish to know of France at her own fireside—a + knowledge that too often escapes them, knowledge that embraces not only a + faithful picture of contemporary life in the French provinces, but a + living and exact description of French society in modern times. They may + feel certain that when they have read these romances, they will have + sounded the depths and penetrated into the hidden intimacies of France, + not only as she is, but as she would be known. + </p> + <p> + GASTON BOISSIER SECRETAIRE PERPETUEL DE L’ACADEMIE FRANCAISE <a + name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GEORGES OHNET + </h2> + <p> + The only French novelist whose books have a circulation approaching the + works of Daudet and of Zola is Georges Ohnet, a writer whose popularity is + as interesting as his stories, because it explains, though it does not + excuse, the contempt the Goncourts had for the favor of the great French + public, and also because it shows how the highest form of Romanticism + still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism in what is called genius + among the great masses of readers. + </p> + <p> + Georges Ohnet was born in Paris, April 3, 1848, the son of an architect. + He was destined for the Bar, but was early attracted by journalism and + literature. Being a lawyer it was not difficult for him to join the + editorial staff of Le Pays, and later Le Constitutionnel. This was soon + after the Franco-German War. His romances, since collected under the title + ‘Batailles de la Vie’, appeared first in ‘Le Figaro, L’Illustration, and + Revue des Deux Mondes’, and have been exceedingly well received by the + public. This relates also to his dramas, some of his works meeting with a + popular success rarely extended to any author. For some time Georges Ohnet + did not find the same favor with the critics, who often attacked him with + a passionate violence and unusual severity. True, a high philosophical + flow of thoughts cannot be detected in his writings, but nevertheless it + is certain that the characters and the subjects of which he treats are + brilliantly sketched and clearly developed. They are likewise of perfect + morality and honesty. + </p> + <p> + There was expected of him, however, an idea which was not quite realized. + Appearing upon the literary stage at a period when Naturalism was + triumphant, it was for a moment believed that he would restore Idealism in + the manner of George Sand. + </p> + <p> + In any case the hostile critics have lost. For years public opinion has + exalted him, and the reaction is the more significant when compared with + the tremendous criticism launched against his early romances and novels. + </p> + <p> + A list of his works follows: + </p> + <p> + Serge Panine (1881), crowned by the French Academy, has since gone through + one hundred and fifty French editions; Le Maitre des Forges (1882), a + prodigious success, two hundred and fifty editions being printed (1900); + La Comtesse Sarah (1882); Lise Fleuyon (1884); La Grande Maynieye (1886); + Les Dames de Croix-Mort (1886); Volonte (1888); Le Docteur Rameau (1889); + Deynier Amour (1889); Le Cure de Favieyes (1890); Dette de Haine (1891); + Nemsod et Cie. (1892); Le Lendemain des Amours (1893); Le Droit de + l’Enfant (1894.); Les Vielles Rancunes (1894); La Dame en Gris (1895); La + Fille du Depute (1896); Le Roi de Paris (1898); Au Fond du Gouffre (1899); + Gens de la Noce (1900); La Tenibreuse (1900); Le Cyasseur d’Affaires + (1901); Le Crepuscule (1901); Le Marche a l’Amour (1902). + </p> + <p> + Ohnet’s novels are collected under the titles, ‘Noir et Rose (1887) and + L’Ame de Pierre (1890). + </p> + <p> + The dramatic writings of Georges Ohnet, mostly taken from his novels, have + greatly contributed to his reputation. Le Maitre des Forges was played for + a full year (Gymnase, 1883); it was followed by Serge Panine (1884); La + Comtesse Sarah (1887). La Grande Mayniere (1888), met also with a decided + and prolonged success; Dernier Amour (Gymnase, 1890); Colonel Roquebrune + (Porte St. Martin, 1897). Before that he had already written the plays + Regina Sarpi (1875) and Marthe (1877), which yet hold a prominent place + upon the French stage. + </p> + <p> + I have shown in this rapid sketch that a man of the stamp of Georges Ohnet + must have immortal qualities in himself, even though flayed and roasted + alive by the critics. He is most assuredly an artist in form, is endowed + with a brilliant style, and has been named “L’Historiographe de la + bourgeoise contemporaine.” Indeed, antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of + aristocracy are the fundamental theses in almost every one of his books. + </p> + <p> + His exposition, I repeat, is startlingly neat, the development of his + plots absolutely logical, and the world has acclaimed his ingenuity in + dramatic construction. He is truly, and in all senses, of the Ages. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + VICTOR CHERBOULIEZ + de l’Academie Francaise +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + SERGE PANINE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 1. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. THE HOUSE OF DESVARENNES + </h2> + <p> + The firm of Desvarennes has been in an ancient mansion in the Rue Saint + Dominique since 1875; it is one of the best known and most important in + French industry. The counting-houses are in the wings of the building + looking upon the courtyard, which were occupied by the servants when the + family whose coat-of-arms has been effaced from above the gate-way were + still owners of the estate. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes inhabits the mansion which she has had magnificently + renovated. A formidable rival of the Darblays, the great millers of + France, the firm of Desvarennes is a commercial and political power. + Inquire in Paris about its solvency, and you will be told that you may + safely advance twenty millions of francs on the signature of the head of + the firm. And this head is a woman. + </p> + <p> + This woman is remarkable. Gifted with keen understanding and a firm will, + she had in former times vowed to make a large fortune, and she has kept + her word. + </p> + <p> + She was the daughter of a humble packer of the Rue Neuve-Coquenard. Toward + 1848 she married Michel Desvarennes, who was then a journeyman baker in a + large shop in the Chaussee d’Antin. With the thousand francs which the + packer managed to give his daughter by way of dowry, the young couple + boldly took a shop and started a little bakery business. The husband + kneaded and baked the bread, and the young wife, seated at the counter, + kept watch over the till. Neither on Sundays nor on holidays was the shop + shut. + </p> + <p> + Through the window, between two pyramids of pink and blue packets of + biscuits, one could always catch sight of the serious-looking Madame + Desvarennes, knitting woollen stockings for her husband while waiting for + customers. With her prominent forehead, and her eyes always bent on her + work, this woman appeared the living image of perseverance. + </p> + <p> + At the end of five years of incessant work, and possessing twenty thousand + francs, saved sou by sou, the Desvarennes left the slopes of Montmartre, + and moved to the centre of Paris. They were ambitious and full of + confidence. They set up in the Rue Vivienne, in a shop resplendent with + gilding and ornamented with looking-glasses. The ceiling was painted in + panels with bright hued pictures that caught the eyes of the passers-by. + The window-shelves were of white marble, and the counter, where Madame + Desvarennes was still enthroned, was of a width worthy of the receipts + that were taken every day. Business increased daily; the Desvarennes + continued to be hard and systematic workers. The class of customers alone + had changed; they were more numerous and richer. The house had a specialty + for making small rolls for the restaurants. Michel had learned from the + Viennese bakers how to make those golden balls which tempt the most + rebellious appetite, and which, when in an artistically folded damask + napkin, set off a dinner-table. + </p> + <p> + About this time Madame Desvarennes, while calculating how much the millers + must gain on the flour they sell to the bakers, resolved, in order to + lessen expenses, to do without middlemen and grind her own corn. Michel, + naturally timid, was frightened when his wife disclosed to him the simple + project which she had formed. Accustomed to submit to the will of her whom + he respectfully called “the mistress,” and of whom he was but the head + clerk, he dared not oppose her. But, a red-tapist by nature, and hating + innovations, owing to weakness of mind, he trembled inwardly and cried in + agony: + </p> + <p> + “Wife, you’ll ruin us.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress calmed the poor man’s alarm; she tried to impart to him some + of her confidence, to animate him with her hope, but without success, so + she went on without him. A mill was for sale at Jouy, on the banks of the + Oise; she paid ready money for it, and a few weeks later the bakery in the + Rue Vivienne was independent of every one. She ground her own flour, and + from that time business increased considerably. Feeling capable of + carrying out large undertakings, and, moreover, desirous of giving up the + meannesses of retail trade, Madame Desvarennes, one fine day, sent in a + tender for supplying bread to the military hospitals. It was accepted, and + from that time the house ranked among the most important. On seeing the + Desvarennes take their daring flight, the leading men in the trade had + said: + </p> + <p> + “They have system and activity, and if they do not upset on the way, they + will attain a high position.” + </p> + <p> + But the mistress seemed to have the gift of divination. She worked surely—if + she struck out one way you might be certain that success was there. In all + her enterprises, “good luck” stood close by her; she scented failures from + afar, and the firm never made a bad debt. Still Michel continued to + tremble. The first mill had been followed by many more; then the old + system appeared insufficient to Madame Desvarennes. As she wished to keep + up with the increase of business she had steam-mills built,—which + are now grinding three hundred million francs’ worth of corn every year. + </p> + <p> + Fortune had favored the house immensely, but Michel continued to tremble. + From time to time when the mistress launched out a new business, he + timidly ventured on his usual saying: + </p> + <p> + “Wife, you’re going to ruin us.” + </p> + <p> + But one felt it was only for form’s sake, and that he himself no longer + meant what he said. Madame Desvarennes received this plaintive + remonstrance with a calm smile, and answered, maternally, as to a child: + </p> + <p> + “There, there, don’t be frightened.” + </p> + <p> + Then she would set to work again, and direct with irresistible vigor the + army of clerks who peopled her counting-houses. + </p> + <p> + In fifteen years’ time, by prodigious efforts of will and energy, Madame + Desvarennes had made her way from the lonely and muddy Rue Neuve-Coquenard + to the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique. Of the bakery there was no + longer question. It was some time since the business in the Rue Vivienne + had been transferred to the foreman of the shop. The flour trade alone + occupied Madame Desvarennes’s attention. She ruled the prices in the + market; and great bankers came to her office and did business with her on + a footing of equality. She did not become any prouder for it, she knew too + well the strength and weakness of life to have pride; her former plain + dealing had not stiffened into self-sufficiency. Such as one had known her + when beginning business, such one found her in the zenith of her fortune. + Instead of a woollen gown she wore a silk one, but the color was still + black; her language had not become refined; she retained the same blunt + familiar accent, and at the end of five minutes’ conversation with any one + of importance she could not resist calling him “my dear,” to come morally + near him. Her commands had more fulness. In giving her orders, she had the + manner of a commander-in-chief, and it was useless to haggle when she had + spoken. The best thing to do was to obey, as well and as promptly as + possible. + </p> + <p> + Placed in a political sphere, this marvellously gifted woman would have + been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a Catherine + II.; there was genius in her. Sprung from the lower ranks, her superiority + had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the great mind might + have governed the world. + </p> + <p> + Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her + fireside was devoid of a cradle. During the first years she had rejoiced + at not having a child. Where could she have found time to occupy herself + with a baby? Business engrossed her attention; she had no leisure to amuse + herself with trifles. Maternity seemed to her a luxury for rich women; she + had her fortune to make. In the struggle against the difficulties + attending the enterprise she had begun, she had not had time to look + around her and perceive that her home was lonely. She worked from morning + till night. Her whole life was absorbed in this work, and when night came, + overcome with fatigue, she fell asleep, her head filled with cares which + stifled all tricks of the imagination. + </p> + <p> + Michel grieved, but in silence; his feeble and dependent nature missed a + child. He, whose mind lacked occupation, thought of the future. He said to + himself that the day when the dreamt-of fortune came would be more welcome + if there were an heir to whom to leave it. What was the good of being + rich, if the money went to collateral relatives? There was his nephew + Savinien, a disagreeable urchin whom he looked on with indifference; and + he was biased regarding his brother, who had all but failed several times + in business, and to whose aid he had come to save the honor of the name. + The mistress had not hesitated to help him, and had prevented the + signature of “Desvarennes” being protested. She had not taunted him, + having as large a heart as she had a mind. But Michel had felt humiliated + to see his own folk make a gap in the financial edifice erected so + laboriously by his wife. Out of this had gradually sprung a sense of + dissatisfaction with the Desvarennes of the other branch, which manifested + itself by a marked coolness, when, by chance, his brother came to the + house, accompanied by his son Savinien. + </p> + <p> + And then the paternity of his brother made him secretly jealous. Why + should that incapable fellow, who succeeded in nothing, have a son? It was + only those ne’er-do-well sort of people who were thus favored. He, Michel, + already called the rich Desvarennes, he had not a son. Was it just? But + where is there justice in this world? + </p> + <p> + The first time that she saw him with a downcast face the mistress had + questioned him, and he had frankly expressed his regrets. But he had been + so repelled by his wife, in whose heart a great trouble, steadily + repressed, however, had been produced, that he never dared to recur to the + subject. + </p> + <p> + He suffered in silence. But he no longer suffered alone. Like an + overflowing river that finds an outlet in the valley, which it inundates, + the longings for maternity, hitherto repressed by the preoccupations of + business, had suddenly seized Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + Strong and unyielding, she struggled and would not own herself conquered. + Still she became sad. Her voice sounded less sonorously in the offices + where she gave an order; her energetic nature seemed subdued. Now she + looked around her. She beheld prosperity made stable by incessant work, + respect gained by spotless honesty; she had attained the goal which she + had marked out in her ambitious dreams, as being paradise itself. Paradise + was there; but it lacked the angel. They had no child. + </p> + <p> + From that day a change came over this woman, slowly but surely; scarcely + perceptible to strangers, but easy to be seen by those around her. She + became benevolent, and gave away considerable sums of money, especially to + children’s “Homes.” But when the good people who governed these + establishments, lured on by her generosity, came to ask her to be on their + committee of management, she became angry, asking them if they were joking + with her? What interest could those brats have for her? She had other fish + to fry. She gave them what they needed, and what more could they want? The + fact was she felt weak and troubled before children. But within her a + powerful and unknown voice had arisen, and the hour was not far distant + when the bitter wave of her regrets was to overflow and be made manifest. + </p> + <p> + She did not like Savinien, her nephew, and kept all her sweetness for the + son of one of their old neighbors in the Rue Neuve-Coquenard, a small + haberdasher, who had not been able to get on, but continued humbly to sell + thread and needles to the thrifty folks of the neighborhood. The + haberdasher, Mother Delarue, as she was called, had remained a widow after + one year of married life. Pierre, her boy, had grown up under the shadow + of the bakery, the cradle of the Desvarennes’s fortunes. + </p> + <p> + On Sundays the mistress would give him a gingerbread or a cracknel, and + amuse herself with his baby prattle. She did not lose sight of him when + she removed to the Rue Vivienne. Pierre had entered the elementary school + of the neighborhood, and by his precocious intelligence and exceptional + application, had not been long in getting to the top of his class. The boy + had left school after gaining an exhibition admitting him to the Chaptal + College. This hard worker, who was in a fair way of making his own + position without costing his relatives anything, greatly interested Madame + Desvarennes. She found in this plucky nature a striking analogy to + herself. She formed projects for Pierre’s future; in fancy she saw him + enter the Polytechnic school, and leave it with honors. The young man had + the choice of becoming a mining or civil engineer, and of entering the + government service. + </p> + <p> + He was hesitating what to do when the mistress came and offered him a + situation in her firm as junior partner; it was a golden bridge that she + placed before him. With his exceptional capacities he was not long in + giving to the house a new impulse. He perfected the machinery, and + triumphantly defied all competition. All this was a happy dream in which + Pierre was to her a real son; her home became his, and she monopolized him + completely. But suddenly a shadow came o’er the spirit of her dreams. + Pierre’s mother, the little haberdasher, proud of her son, would she + consent to give him up to a stranger? Oh! if Pierre had only been an + orphan! But one could not rob a mother of her son! And Madame Desvarennes + stopped the flight of her imagination. She followed Pierre with anxious + looks; but she forbade herself to dispose of the youth: he did not belong + to her. + </p> + <p> + This woman, at the age of thirty-five, still young in heart, was disturbed + by feelings which she strove, but vainly, to rule. She hid them especially + from her husband, whose repining chattering she feared. If she had once + shown him her weakness he would have overwhelmed her daily with the burden + of his regrets. But an unforeseen circumstance placed her at Michel’s + mercy. + </p> + <p> + Winter had come, bringing December and its snow. The weather this year was + exceptionally inclement, and traffic in the streets was so difficult, + business was almost suspended. The mistress left her deserted offices and + retired early to her private apartments. The husband and wife spent their + evenings alone. They sat there, facing each other, at the fireside. A + shade concentrated the light of the lamp upon the table covered with + expensive knick-knacks. The ceiling was sometimes vaguely lighted up by a + glimmer from the stove which glittered on the gilt cornices. Ensconced in + deep comfortable armchairs, the pair respectively caressed their favorite + dream without speaking of it. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes saw beside her a little pink-and-white baby girl, + toddling on the carpet. She heard her words, understood her language, + untranslatable to all others than a mother. Then bedtime came. The child, + with heavy eyelids, let her little fair-haired head fall on her shoulders. + Madame Desvarennes took her in her arms and undressed her quietly, kissing + her bare and dimpled arms. It was exquisite enjoyment which stirred her + heart deliciously. She saw the cradle, and devoured the child with her + eyes. She knew that the picture was a myth. But what did it matter to her? + She was happy. Michel’s voice broke on her reverie. + </p> + <p> + “Wife,” said he, “this is Christmas Eve; and as there are only us two, + suppose you put your slipper on the hearth.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes rose. Her eyes vaguely turned toward the hearth on + which the fire was dying, and beside the upright of the large sculptured + mantelpiece she beheld for a moment a tiny shoe, belonging to the child + which she loved to see in her dreams. Then the vision vanished, and there + was nothing left but the lonely hearth. A sharp pain tore her swollen + heart; a sob rose to her lips, and, slowly, two tears rolled down her + cheeks. Michel, quite pale, looked at her in silence; he held out his hand + to her, and said, in a trembling voice: + </p> + <p> + “You were thinking about it, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes bowed her head, twice, silently, and without adding + another word, the pair fell into each other’s arms and wept. + </p> + <p> + From that day they hid nothing from each other, and shared their troubles + and regrets in common. The mistress unburdened her heart by making a full + confession, and Michel, for the first time in his life, learned the depth + of soul of his companion to its inmost recesses. This woman, so energetic, + so obstinate, was, as it were, broken down. The springs of her will seemed + worn out. She felt despondencies and wearinesses until then unknown. Work + tired her. She did not venture down to the offices; she talked of giving + up business, which was a bad sign. She longed for country air. Were they + not rich enough? With their simple tastes so much money was unnecessary. + In fact, they had no wants. They would go to some pretty estate in the + suburbs of Paris, live there and plant cabbages. Why work? they had no + children. + </p> + <p> + Michel agreed to these schemes. For a long time he had wished for repose. + Often he had feared that his wife’s ambition would lead them too far. But + now, since she stopped of her own accord, it was all for the best. + </p> + <p> + At this juncture their solicitor informed them that, near to their works, + the Cernay estate was to be put up for sale. Very often, when going from + Jouy to the mills, Madame Desvarennes had noticed the chateau, the slate + roofs of the turrets of which rose gracefully from a mass of deep verdure. + The Count de Cernay, the last representative of a noble race, had just + died of consumption, brought on by reckless living, leaving nothing behind + him but debts and a little girl two years old. Her mother, an Italian + singer and his mistress, had left him one morning without troubling + herself about the child. Everything was to be sold, by order of the Court. + </p> + <p> + Some most lamentable incidents had saddened the Count’s last hours. The + bailiffs had entered the house with the doctor when he came to pay his + last call, and the notices of the sale were all but posted up before the + funeral was over. Jeanne, the orphan, scared amid the troubles of this + wretched end, seeing unknown men walking into the reception-rooms with + their hats on, hearing strangers speaking loudly and with arrogance, had + taken refuge in the laundry. It was there that Madame Desvarennes found + her, playing, plainly dressed in a little alpaca frock, her pretty hair + loose and falling on her shoulders. She looked astonished at what she had + seen; silent, not daring to run or sing as formerly in the great desolate + house whence the master had just been taken away forever. + </p> + <p> + With the vague instinct of abandoned children who seek to attach + themselves to some one or some thing, Jeanne clung to Madame Desvarennes, + who, ready to protect, and longing for maternity, took the child in her + arms. The gardener’s wife acted as guide during her visit over the + property. Madame Desvarennes questioned her. She knew nothing of the child + except what she had heard from the servants when they gossiped in the + evenings about their late master. They said Jeanne was a bastard. Of her + relatives they knew nothing. The Count had an aunt in England who was + married to a rich lord; but he had not corresponded with her lately. The + little one then was reduced to beggary as the estate was to be sold. + </p> + <p> + The gardener’s wife was a good woman and was willing to keep the child + until the new proprietor came; but when once affairs were settled, she + would certainly go and make a declaration to the mayor, and take her to + the workhouse. Madame Desvarennes listened in silence. One word only had + struck her while the woman was speaking. The child was without support, + without ties, and abandoned like a poor lost dog. The little one was + pretty too; and when she fixed her large deep eyes on that improvised + mother, who pressed her so tenderly to her heart, she seemed to implore + her not to put her down, and to carry her away from the mourning that + troubled her mind and the isolation that froze her heart. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, very superstitious, like a woman of the people, began + to think that, perhaps, Providence had brought her to Cernay that day and + had placed the child in her path. It was perhaps a reparation which heaven + granted her, in giving her the little girl she so longed for. Acting + unhesitatingly, as she did in everything, she left her name with the + woman, carried Jeanne to her carriage, and took her to Paris, promising + herself to make inquiries to find her relatives. + </p> + <p> + A month later, the property of Cernay pleasing her, and the researches for + Jeanne’s friends not proving successful, Madame Desvarennes took + possession of the estate and the child into the bargain. + </p> + <p> + Michel welcomed the child without enthusiasm. The little stranger was + indifferent to him; he would have preferred adopting a boy. The mistress + was delighted. Her maternal instincts, so long stifled, developed fully. + She made plans for the future. Her energy returned; she spoke loudly and + firmly. But in her appearance there was revealed an inward contentment + never remarked before, which made her sweeter and more benevolent. She no + longer spoke of retiring from business. The discouragement which had + seized her left her as if by magic. The house which had been so dull for + some months became noisy and gay. The child, like a sunbeam, had scattered + the clouds. + </p> + <p> + It was then that the most unlooked-for phenomenon, which was so + considerably to influence Madame Desvarennes’s life, occurred. At the + moment when the mistress seemed provided by chance with the heiress so + much longed for, she learned with surprise that she was about to become a + mother! After sixteen years of married life, this discovery was almost a + discomfiture. What would have been delight formerly was now a cause for + fear. She, almost an old woman! + </p> + <p> + There was an incredible commotion in the business world when the news + became known. The younger branch of Desvarennes had witnessed Jeanne’s + arrival with little satisfaction, and were still more gloomy when they + learned that the chances of their succeeding to great wealth were over. + Still they did not lose all hopes. At thirty-five years of age one cannot + always tell how these little affairs will come off. An accident was + possible. But none occurred; all passed off well. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes was as strong physically as she was morally, and proved + victorious by bringing into the world a little girl, who was named + Micheline in honor of her father. The mistress’s heart was large enough to + hold two children; she kept the orphan she had adopted, and brought her up + as if she had been her very own. Still there was soon an enormous + difference in her manner of loving Jeanne and Micheline. This mother had + for the long-wished-for child an ardent, mad, passionate love like that of + a tigress for her cubs. She had never loved her husband. All the + tenderness which had accumulated in her heart blossomed, and it was like + spring. + </p> + <p> + This autocrat, who had never allowed contradiction, and before whom all + her dependents bowed either with or against the grain, was now led in her + turn; the bronze of her character became like wax in the little pink hands + of her daughter. The commanding woman bent before the little fair head. + There was nothing good enough for Micheline. Had the mother owned the + world she would have placed it at the little one’s feet. One tear from the + child upset her. If on one of the most important subjects Madame + Desvarennes had said “No,” and Micheline came and said “Yes,” the hitherto + resolute will became subordinate to the caprice of a child. They knew it + in the house and acted upon it. This manoeuvre succeeded each time, + although Madame Desvarennes had seen through it from the first. It + appeared as if the mother felt a secret joy in proving under all + circumstances the unbounded adoration which she felt for her daughter. She + often said: + </p> + <p> + “Pretty as she is, and rich as I shall make her, what husband will be + worthy of Micheline? But if she believes me when it is time to choose one, + she will prefer a man remarkable for his intelligence, and will give him + her fortune as a stepping-stone to raise him as high as she chooses him to + go.” + </p> + <p> + Inwardly she was thinking of Pierre Delarue, who had just taken honors at + the Polytechnic school, and who seemed to have a brilliant career before + him. This woman, humbly born, was proud of her origin, and sought a + plebeian for her son-in-law, to put into his hand a golden tool powerful + enough to move the world. + </p> + <p> + Micheline was ten years old when her father died. Alas, Michel was not a + great loss. They wore mourning for him; but they hardly noticed that he + was absent. His whole life had been a void. Madame Desvarennes, it is sad + to say, felt herself more mistress of her child when she was a widow. She + was jealous of Micheline’s affections, and each kiss the child gave her + father seemed to the mother to be robbed from her. With this fierce + tenderness, she preferred solitude around this beloved being. + </p> + <p> + At this time Madame Desvarennes was really in the zenith of womanly + splendor. She seemed taller, her figure had straightened, vigorous and + powerful. Her gray hair gave her face a majestic appearance. Always + surrounded by a court of clients and friends, she seemed like a sovereign. + The fortune of the firm was not to be computed. It was said Madame + Desvarennes did not know how rich she was. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne and Micheline grew up amid this colossal prosperity. The one, tall, + brown-haired, with blue eyes changing like the sea; the other, fragile, + fair, with dark dreamy eyes. Jeanne, proud, capricious, and inconstant; + Micheline, simple, sweet, and tenacious. The brunette inherited from her + reckless father and her fanciful mother a violent and passionate nature; + the blonde was tractable and good like Michel, but resolute and firm like + Madame Desvarennes. These two opposite natures were congenial, Micheline + sincerely loving Jeanne, and Jeanne feeling the necessity of living + amicably with Micheline, her mother’s idol, but inwardly enduring with + difficulty the inequalities which began to exhibit themselves in the + manner with which the intimates of the house treated the one and the + other. She found these flatteries wounding, and thought Madame + Desvarennes’s preferences for Micheline unjust. + </p> + <p> + All these accumulated grievances made Jeanne conceive the wish one morning + of leaving the house where she had been brought up, and where she now felt + humiliated. Pretending to long to go to England to see that rich relative + of her father, who, knowing her to be in a brilliant society, had taken + notice of her, she asked Madame Desvarennes to allow her to spend a few + weeks from home. She wished to try the ground in England, and see what she + might expect in the future from her family. Madame Desvarennes lent + herself to this whim, not guessing the young girl’s real motive; and + Jeanne, well attended, went to her aunt’s home in England. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, besides, had attained the summit of her hopes, and an + event had just taken place which preoccupied her. Micheline, deferring to + her mother’s wishes, had decided to allow herself to be betrothed to + Pierre Delarue, who had just lost his mother, and whose business improved + daily. The young girl, accustomed to treat Pierre like a brother, had + easily consented to accept him as her future husband. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne, who had been away for six months, had returned sobered and + disillusioned about her family. She had found them kind and affable, had + received many compliments on her beauty, which was really remarkable, but + had not met with any encouragement in her desires for independence. She + came home resolved not to leave until she married. She arrived in the Rue + Saint-Dominique at the moment when Pierre Delarue, thirsting with + ambition, was leaving his betrothed, his relatives, and gay Paris to + undertake engineering work on the coasts of Algeria and Tunis that would + raise him above his rivals. In leaving, the young man did not for a moment + think that Jeanne was returning from England at the same hour with trouble + for him in the person of a very handsome cavalier, Prince Serge Panine, + who had been introduced to her at a ball during the London season. + Mademoiselle de Cernay, availing herself of English liberty, was returning + escorted only by a maid in company with the Prince. The journey had been + delightful. The tete-a-tete travelling had pleased the young people, and + on leaving the train they had promised to see each other again. Official + balls facilitated their meeting; Serge was introduced to Madame + Desvarennes as being an English friend, and soon became the most assiduous + partner of Jeanne and Micheline. It was thus, under the most trivial + pretext, that the man gained admittance to the house where he was to play + such an important part. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE GALLEY-SLAVE OF PLEASURE + </h2> + <p> + One morning in the month of May, 1879, a young man, elegantly attired, + alighted from a well-appointed carriage before the door of Madame + Desvarennes’s house. The young man passed quickly before the porter in + uniform, decorated with a military medal, stationed near the door. The + visitor found himself in an anteroom which communicated with several + corridors. A messenger was seated in the depth of a large armchair, + reading the newspaper, and not even lending an inattentive ear to the + whispered conversation of a dozen canvassers, who were patiently awaiting + their turn for gaining a hearing. On seeing the young man enter by the + private door, the messenger rose, dropped his newspaper on the armchair, + hastily raised his velvet skullcap, tried to smile, and made two steps + forward. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, old Felix,” said the young man, in a friendly tone to the + messenger. “Is my aunt within?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur Savinien, Madame Desvarennes is in her office; but she has + been engaged for more than an hour with the Financial Secretary of the War + Department.” + </p> + <p> + In uttering these words old Felix put on a mysterious and important air, + which denoted how serious the discussions going on in the adjoining room + seemed to his mind. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” continued he, showing Madame Desvarennes’s nephew the anteroom + full of people, “madame has kept all these waiting since this morning, and + perhaps she won’t see them.” + </p> + <p> + “I must see her though,” murmured the young man. + </p> + <p> + He reflected a moment, then added: + </p> + <p> + “Is Monsieur Marechal in?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, certainly. If you will allow me I will announce you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is unnecessary.” + </p> + <p> + And, stepping forward, he entered the office adjoining that of Madame + Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + Seated at a large table of black wood, covered with bundles of papers and + notes, a young man was working. He was thirty years of age, but appeared + much older. His prematurely bald forehead, and wrinkled brow, betokened a + life of severe struggles and privations, or a life of excesses and + pleasures. Still those clear and pure eyes were not those of a libertine, + and the straight nose solidly joined to the face was that of a searcher. + Whatever the cause, the man was old before his time. + </p> + <p> + On hearing the door of his office open, he raised his eyes, put down his + pen, and was making a movement toward his visitor, when the latter + interrupted him quickly with these words: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t stir, Marechal, or I shall be off! I only came in until Aunt + Desvarennes is at liberty; but if I disturb you I will go and take a turn, + smoke a cigar, and come back in three quarters of an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not disturb me, Monsieur Savinien; at least not often enough, for + be it said, without reproaching you, it is more than three months since we + have seen anything of you. There, the post is finished. I was writing the + last addresses.” + </p> + <p> + And taking a heavy bundle of papers off the desk, Marechal showed them to + Savinien. + </p> + <p> + “Gracious! It seems that business is going on well here.” + </p> + <p> + “Better and better.” + </p> + <p> + “You are making mountains of flour.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; high as Mont Blanc; and then, we now have a fleet.” + </p> + <p> + “What! a fleet?” cried Savinien, whose face expressed doubt and surprise + at the same time. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a steam fleet. Last year Madame Desvarennes was not satisfied with + the state in which her corn came from the East. The corn was damaged owing + to defective stowage; the firm claimed compensation from the steamship + company. The claim was only moderately satisfied, Madame Desvarennes got + vexed, and now we import our own. We have branches at Smyrna and Odessa.” + </p> + <p> + “It is fabulous! If it goes on, my aunt will have an administration as + important as that of a European state. Oh! you are happy here, you people; + you are busy. I amuse myself! And if you knew how it wearies me! I am + withering, consuming myself, I am longing for business.” + </p> + <p> + And saying these words, young Monsieur Desvarennes allowed a sorrowful + moan to escape him. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” said Marechal, “that it only depends upon yourself to do + as much and more business than any one?” + </p> + <p> + “You know well enough that it is not so,” sighed Savinien; “my aunt is + opposed to it.” + </p> + <p> + “What a mistake!” cried Marechal, quickly. “I have heard Madame + Desvarennes say more than twenty times how she regretted your being + unemployed. Come into the firm, you will have a good berth in the + counting-house.” + </p> + <p> + “In the counting-house!” cried Savinien, bitterly; “there’s the sore + point. Now look here; my friend, do you think that an organization like + mine is made to bend to the trivialities of a copying clerk’s work? To + follow the humdrum of every-day routine? To blacken paper? To become a + servant?—me! with what I have in my brain?” + </p> + <p> + And, rising abruptly, Savinien began to walk hurriedly up and down the + room, disdainfully shaking his little head with its low forehead on which + were plastered a few fair curls (made with curling-irons), with the + indignant air of an Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know very well what is at the bottom of the business—my aunt + is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas. She wishes to be the only + one of the family who possesses any. She thinks of binding me down to a + besotting work,” continued he, “but I won’t have it. I know what I want! + It is independence of thought, bent on the solution of great problems—that + is, a wide field to apply my discoveries. But a fixed rule, common law, I + could not submit to it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is like the examinations,” observed Marechal, looking slyly at young + Desvarennes, who was drawing himself up to his full height; “examinations + never suited you.” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” said Savinien, energetically. “They wished to get me into the + Polytechnic School; impossible! Then the Central School; no better. I + astonished the examiners by the novelty of my ideas. They refused me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know,” retorted Marechal, “if you began by overthrowing their + theories—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it!” cried Savinien, triumphantly. “My mind is stronger than I; I + must let my imagination have free run, and no one will ever know what that + particular turn of mind has cost me. Even my family do not think me + serious. Aunt Desvarennes has forbidden any kind of enterprise, under + pretence that I bear her name, and that I might compromise it because I + have twice failed. My aunt paid, it is true. Do you think it is generous + of her to take advantage of my situation, and prohibit my trying to + succeed? Are inventors judged by three or four failures? If my aunt had + allowed me I should have astonished the world.” + </p> + <p> + “She feared, above all,” said Marechal, simply, “to see you astonishing + the Tribunal of Commerce.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you, too,” moaned Savinien, “are in league with my enemies; you make + no account of me.” + </p> + <p> + And young Desvarennes sank as if crushed into an armchair and began to + lament. He was very unhappy at being misunderstood. His aunt allowed him + three thousand francs a month on condition that he would not make use of + his ten fingers. Was it moral? Then he with such exuberant vigor had to + waste it on pleasure and seeing life to the utmost. He passed his time in + theatres, at clubs, restaurants, in boudoirs. He lost his time, his money, + his hair, his illusions. He bemoaned his lot, but continued, only to have + something to do. With grim sarcasm he called himself the galley-slave of + pleasure. And notwithstanding all these consuming excesses, he asserted + that he could not render his imagination barren. Amid the greatest follies + at suppers, during the clinking of glasses; in the excitement of the + dance-inspirations came to him in flashes, he made prodigious discoveries. + </p> + <p> + And as Marechal ventured a timid “Oh!” tinged with incredulity, Savinien + flew into a passion. Yes; he had invented something astonishing; he saw + fortune within reach, and he thought the bargain made with his aunt very + unjust. Therefore he had come to break it, and to regain his liberty. + </p> + <p> + Marechal looked at the young man while he was explaining with animation + his ambitious projects. He scrutinized that flat forehead within which the + dandy asserted so many good ideas were hidden. He measured that slim form + bent by wild living, and asked himself how that degenerate being could + struggle against the difficulties of business. A smile played on his lips. + He knew Savinien too well not to be aware that he was a prey to one of + those attacks of melancholy which seized on him when his funds were low. + </p> + <p> + On these occasions, which occurred frequently, the young man had longings + for business, which Madame Desvarennes stopped by asking: “How much?” + Savinien allowed himself to be with difficulty induced to consent to + renounce the certain profits promised, as he said, by his projected + enterprise. At last he would capitulate, and with his pocket well lined, + nimble and joyful, he returned to his boudoirs, race-courses, fashionable + restaurants, and became more than ever the galley-slave of pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “And Pierre?” asked young Desvarennes, suddenly and quickly changing the + subject. “Have you any news of him?” + </p> + <p> + Marechal became serious. A cloud seemed to have come across his brow; he + gravely answered Savinien’s question. + </p> + <p> + Pierre was still in the East. He was travelling toward Tunis, the coast of + which he was exploring. It was a question of the formation of an inland + sea by taking the water through the desert. It would be a colossal + undertaking, the results of which would be considerable as regarded + Algeria. The climate would be completely changed, and the value of the + colony would be increased tenfold, because it would become the most + fertile country in the world. Pierre had been occupied in this undertaking + for more than a year with unequalled ardor; he was far from his home, his + betrothed, seeing only the goal to be attained; turning a deaf ear to all + that would distract his attention from the great work, to the success of + which he hoped to contribute gloriously. + </p> + <p> + “And don’t people say,” resumed Savinien with an evil smile, “that during + his absence a dashing young fellow is busy luring his betrothed away from + him?” + </p> + <p> + At these words Marechal made a quick movement. + </p> + <p> + “It is false,” he interrupted; “and I do not understand how you, Monsieur + Desvarennes, should be the bearer of such a tale. To admit that + Mademoiselle Micheline could break her word or her engagements is to + slander her, and if any one other than you—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, my dear friend,” said Savinien, laughing, “don’t get into a + rage. What I say to you I would not repeat to the first comer; besides, I + am only the echo of a rumor that has been going the round during the last + three weeks. They even give the name of him who has been chosen for the + honor and pleasure of such a brilliant conquest. I mean Prince Serge + Panine.” + </p> + <p> + “As you have mentioned Prince Panine,” replied Marechal, “allow me to tell + you that he has not put his foot inside Madame Desvarennes’s door for + three weeks. This is not the way of a man about to marry the daughter of + the house.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, I only repeat what I have heard. As for me, I don’t know + any more. I have kept out of the way for more than three months. And + besides, it matters little to me whether Micheline be a commoner or a + princess, the wife of Delarue or of Panine. I shall be none the richer or + the poorer, shall I? Therefore I need not care. The dear child will + certainly have millions enough to marry easily. And her adopted sister, + the stately Mademoiselle Jeanne, what has become of her?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! as to Mademoiselle de Cernay, that is another affair,” cried + Marechal. + </p> + <p> + And as if wishing to divert the conversation in an opposite direction to + which Savinien had led it a moment before, he spoke readily of Madame + Desvarennes’s adopted daughter. She had made a lively impression on one of + the intimate friends of the house—the banker Cayrol, who had offered + his name and his fortune to the fair Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + This was a cause of deep amazement to Savinien. What! Cayrol! The shrewd + close—fisted Auvergnat! A girl without a fortune! Cayrol Silex as he + was called in the commercial world on account of his hardness. This living + money-bag had a heart then! It was necessary to believe it since both + money-bag and heart had been placed at Mademoiselle de Cernay’s feet. This + strange girl was certainly destined to millions. She had just missed being + Madame Desvarennes’s heiress, and now Cayrol had taken it into his head to + marry her. + </p> + <p> + But that was not all. And when Marechal told Savinien that the fair Jeanne + flatly refused to become the wife of Cayrol, there was an outburst of + joyful exclamations. She refused! By Jove, she was mad! An unlooked-for + marriage—for she had not a penny, and had most extravagant notions. + She had been brought up as if she were to live always in velvet and silks—to + loll in carriages and think only of her pleasure. What reason did she give + for refusing him! None. Haughtily and disdainfully she had declared that + she did not love “that man,” and that she would not marry him. + </p> + <p> + When Savinien heard these details his rapture increased. One thing + especially charmed him: Jeanne’s saying “that man,” when speaking of + Cayrol. A little girl who was called “De Cernay” just as he might call + himself “Des Batignolles” if he pleased: the natural and unacknowledged + daughter of a Count and of a shady public singer! And she refused Cayrol, + calling him “that man.” It was really funny. And what did worthy Cayrol + say about it? + </p> + <p> + When Marechal declared that the banker had not been damped by this + discouraging reception, Savinien said it was human nature. The fair Jeanne + scorned Cayrol and Cayrol adored her. He had often seen those things + happen. He knew the baggages so well! Nobody knew more of women than he + did. He had known some more difficult to manage than proud Mademoiselle + Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + An old leaven of hatred had festered in Savinien’s heart against Jeanne + since the time when the younger branch of the Desvarennes had reason to + fear that the superb heritage was going to the adopted daughter. Savinien + had lost the fear, but had kept up the animosity. And everything that + could happen to Jeanne of a vexing or painful nature would be witnessed by + him with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + He was about to encourage Marechal to continue his revelations, and had + risen and was leaning on the desk. With his face excited and eager, he was + preparing his question, when, through the door which led to Madame + Desvarennes’s office, a confused murmur of voices was heard. At the same + time the door was half opened, held by a woman’s hand, square, with short + fingers, a firm-willed and energetic hand. At the same time, the last + words exchanged between Madame Desvarennes and the Financial Secretary of + the War Office were distinctly audible. Madame Desvarennes was speaking, + and her voice sounded clear and plain; a little raised and vibrating. + There seemed a shade of anger in its tone. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, you will tell the Minister that does not suit me. It is not + the custom of the house. For thirty-five years I have conducted business + thus, and I have always found it answer. I wish you good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + The door of the office facing that which Madame Desvarennes held closed, + and a light step glided along the corridor. It was the Financial + Secretary’s. The mistress appeared. + </p> + <p> + Marechal rose hastily. As to Savinien, all his resolution seemed to have + vanished at the sound of his aunt’s voice, for he had rapidly gained a + corner of the room, and seated himself on a leather-covered sofa, hidden + behind an armchair, where he remained perfectly quiet. + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand that, Marechal?” said dame Desvarennes; “they want to + place a resident agent at the mill on pretext of checking things. They say + that all military contractors are obliged to submit to it. My word, do + they take us for thieves, the rascals? It is the first time that people + have seemed to doubt me. And it has enraged me. I have been arguing for a + whole hour with the man they sent me. I said to him, ‘My dear sir, you may + either take it or leave it. Let us start from this point: I can do without + you and you cannot do without me. If you don’t buy my flour, somebody else + will. I am not at all troubled about it. But as to having any one here who + would be as much master as myself, or perhaps more, never! I am too old to + change my customs.’ Thereupon the Financial Secretary left. There! And, + besides, they change their Ministry every fortnight. One would never know + with whom one had to deal. Thank you, no.” + </p> + <p> + While talking thus with Marechal, Madame Desvarennes was walking about the + office. She was still the same woman with the broad prominent forehead. + Her hair, which she wore in smooth plaits, had become gray, but the + sparkle of her dark eyes only seemed the brighter from this. She had + preserved her splendid teeth, and her smile had remained young and + charming. She spoke with animation, as usual, and with the gestures of a + man. She placed herself before her secretary, seeming to appeal to him as + a witness of her being in the right. During the hour with the official + personage she had been obliged to contain herself. She unburdened herself + to Marechal, saying just what she thought. + </p> + <p> + But all at once she perceived Savinien, who was waiting to show himself + now that she had finished. The mistress turned sharply to the young man, + and frowned slightly: + </p> + <p> + “Hallo! you are there, eh? How is it that you could leave your fair + friends?” + </p> + <p> + “But, aunt, I came to pay you my respects.” + </p> + <p> + “No nonsense now; I’ve no time,” interrupted the mistress. “What do you + want?” + </p> + <p> + Savinien, disconcerted by this rude reception, blinked his eyes, as if + seeking some form to give his request; then, making up his mind, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I came to see you on business.” + </p> + <p> + “You on business?” replied Madame Desvarennes, with a shade of + astonishment and irony. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, aunt, on business,” declared Savinien, looking down as if he + expected a rebuff. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, oh!” said Madame Desvarennes, “you know our agreement; I give you + an allowance—” + </p> + <p> + “I renounce my income,” interrupted Savinien, quickly, “I wish to take + back my independence. The transfer I made has already cost me too dear. + It’s a fool’s bargain. The enterprise which I am going to launch is + superb, and must realize immense profits. I shall certainly not abandon + it.” + </p> + <p> + While speaking, Savinien had become animated and had regained his + self-possession. He believed in his scheme, and was ready to pledge his + future. He argued that his aunt could not blame him for giving proof of + his energy and daring, and he discoursed in bombastic style. + </p> + <p> + “That’s enough!” cried Madame Desvarennes, interrupting her nephew’s + oration. “I am very fond of mills, but not word-mills. You are talking too + much about it to be sincere. So many words can only serve to disguise the + nullity of your projects. You want to embark in speculation? With what + money?” + </p> + <p> + “I contribute the scheme and some capitalists will advance the money to + start with; we shall then issue shares!” + </p> + <p> + “Never in this life! I oppose it. You! With a responsibility. You! + Directing an undertaking. You would only commit absurdities. In fact, you + want to sell an idea, eh? Well, I will buy it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not only the money I want,” said Savinien, with an indignant air, + “it is confidence in my ideas, it is enthusiasm on the part of my + shareholders, it is success. You don’t believe in my ideas, aunt!” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter to you, if I buy them from you? It seems to me a + pretty good proof of confidence. Is that settled?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, aunt, you are implacable!” groaned Savinien. “When you have laid your + hand upon any one, it is all over. Adieu, independence; one must obey you. + Nevertheless, it was a vast and beautiful conception.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Marechal, see that my nephew has ten thousand francs. And you, + Savinien, remember that I see no more of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Until the money is spent!” murmured Marechal, in the ear of Madame + Desvarennes’s nephew. + </p> + <p> + And taking him by the arm he was leading him toward the safe when the + mistress turned to Savinien and said: + </p> + <p> + “By the way, what is your invention?” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt, it is a threshing machine,” answered the young man, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Rather a machine for coining money,” said the incorrigible Marechal, in + an undertone. + </p> + <p> + “Well; bring me your plans,” resumed Madame Desvarennes, after having + reflected a moment. “Perchance you may have hit upon something.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress had been generous, and now the woman of business reasserted + herself and she thought of reaping the benefit. + </p> + <p> + Savinien seemed very confused at this demand, and as his aunt gave him an + interrogative look, he confessed: + </p> + <p> + “There are no drawings made as yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No drawings as yet?” cried the mistress. “Where then is your invention?” + </p> + <p> + “It is here,” replied Savinien, and with an inspired gesture he struck his + narrow forehead. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes and Marechal could not resist breaking out into a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “And you were already talking of issuing shares?” said the mistress. “Do + you think people would have paid their money with your brain as sole + guarantee? You! Get along; I am the only one to make bargains like that, + and you are the only one with whom I make them. Go, Marechal, give him his + money; I won’t gainsay it. But you are a trickster, as usual!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. PIERRE RETURNS + </h2> + <p> + By a wave of her hand she dismissed Savinien, who, abashed, went out with + Marechal. Left alone, she seated herself at her secretary’s desk, and + taking the pile of letters she signed them. The pen flew in her fingers, + and on the paper was displayed her name, written in large letters in a + man’s handwriting. + </p> + <p> + She had been occupied thus for about a quarter of an hour when Marechal + reappeared. Behind him came a stout thickset man of heavy build, and + gorgeously dressed. His face, surrounded by a bristly dark brown beard, + and his eyes overhung by bushy eyebrows, gave him, at the first glance, a + harsh appearance. But his mouth promptly banished this impression. His + thick and sensual lips betrayed voluptuous tastes. A disciple of Lavater + or Gall would have found the bump of amativeness largely developed. + </p> + <p> + Marechal stepped aside to allow him to pass. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, mistress,” said he familiarly, approaching Madame + Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + The mistress raised her head quickly, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! it’s you, Cayrol! That’s capital! I was just going to send for you.” + </p> + <p> + Jean Cayrol, a native of Cantal, had been brought up amid the wild + mountains of Auvergne. His father was a small farmer in the neighborhood + of Saint-Flour, scraping a miserable pittance from the ground for the + maintenance of his family. From the age of eight years Cayrol had been a + shepherd-boy. Alone in the quiet and remote country, the child had given + way to ambitious dreams. He was very intelligent, and felt that he was + born to another sphere than that of farming. + </p> + <p> + Thus, at the first opportunity which had occurred to take him into a town, + he was found ready. He went as servant to a banker at Brioude. There, in + the service of this comparatively luxurious house, he got smoothed down a + little, and lost some of his clumsy loutishness. Strong as an ox, he did + the work of two men, and at night, when in his garret, fell asleep + learning to read. He was seized by the ambition to get on. No pains were + to be spared to gain his goal. + </p> + <p> + His master having been elected a member of the Chamber of Deputies, Cayrol + accompanied him to Paris. Life in the capital finished the turmoil of + Cayrol’s brain. Seeing the prodigious activity of the great city on whose + pavements fortunes sprang up in a day like mushrooms, the Auvergnat felt + his moral strength equal to the occasion, and leaving his master, he + became clerk to a merchant in the Rue du Sentier. + </p> + <p> + There, for four years, he studied commerce, and gained much experience. He + soon learned that it was only in financial transactions that large + fortunes were to be rapidly made. He left the Rue du Sentier, and found a + place at a stock-broker’s. His keen scent for speculation served him + admirably. After the lapse of a few years he had charge of the business. + His position was getting better; he was making fifteen thousand francs per + annum, but that was nothing compared to his dreams. He was then + twenty-eight years of age. He felt ready to do anything to succeed, except + something unhandsome, for this lover of money would have died rather than + enrich himself by dishonest means. + </p> + <p> + It was at this time that his lucky star threw him in Madame Desvarennes’s + way. The mistress, understanding men, guessed Cayrol’s worth quickly. She + was seeking a banker who would devote himself to her interests. She + watched the young man narrowly for some time; then, sure she was not + mistaken as to his capacity, she bluntly proposed to give him money to + start a business. Cayrol, who had already saved eighty thousand francs, + received twelve hundred thousand from Madame Desvarennes, and settled in + the Rue Taitbout, two steps from the house of Rothschild. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes had made a lucky hit in choosing Cayrol as her + confidential agent. This short, thickset Auvergnat was a master of + finance, and in a few years had raised the house to an unexpected degree + of prosperity. Madame Desvarennes had drawn considerable sums as interest + on the money lent, and the banker’s fortune was already estimated at + several millions. Was it the happy influence of Madame Desvarennes that + changed everything she touched into gold, or were Cayrol’s capacities + really extraordinary? The results were there and that was sufficient. They + did not trouble themselves over and above that. + </p> + <p> + The banker had naturally become one of the intimates of Madame + Desvarennes’s house. For a long time he saw Jeanne without particularly + noticing her. This young girl had not struck his fancy. It was one night + at a ball, on seeing her dancing with Prince Panine, that he perceived + that she was marvellously engaging. His eyes were attracted by an + invincible power and followed her graceful figure whirling through the + waltz. He secretly envied the brilliant cavalier who was holding this + adorable creature in his arms, who was bending over her bare shoulders, + and whose breath lightly touched her hair. He longed madly for Jeanne, and + from that moment thought only of her. + </p> + <p> + The Prince was then very friendly with Mademoiselle de Cernay; he + overwhelmed her with kind attentions. Cayrol watched him to see if he + spoke to her of love, but Panine was a past master in these drawing-room + skirmishes, and the banker got nothing for his pains. That Cayrol was + tenacious has been proved. He became intimate with the Prince. He tendered + him such little services as create intimacy, and when he was sure of not + being repulsed with haughtiness, he questioned Serge. Did he love + Mademoiselle de Cernay? This question, asked in a trembling voice and with + a constrained smile, found the Prince quite calm. He answered lightly that + Mademoiselle de Cernay was a very agreeable partner, but that he had never + dreamed of offering her his homage. He had other projects in his head. + Cayrol pressed the Prince’s hand violently, made a thousand protestations + of devotedness, and finally obtained his complete confidence. + </p> + <p> + Serge loved Mademoiselle Desvarennes, and it was to become intimate with + her that he had so eagerly sought her friend’s company. Cayrol, in + learning the Prince’s secret, resumed his usual reserved manner. He knew + that Micheline was engaged to Pierre Delarue, but still, women were so + whimsical! Who could tell? Perhaps Mademoiselle Desvarennes had looked + favorably upon the handsome Serge. + </p> + <p> + He was really admirable to view, this Panine, with his blue eyes, pure as + a maiden’s, and his long fair mustache falling on each side of his rosy + mouth. He had a truly royal bearing, and was descended from an ancient + aristocratic race; he had a charming hand and an arched foot, enough to + make a woman envious. Soft and insinuating with his tender voice and sweet + Sclavonic accent, he was no ordinary man, but one usually creating a great + impression wherever he went. + </p> + <p> + His story was well known in Paris. He was born in the province of Posen, + so violently seized on by Prussia, that octopus of Europe. Serge’s father + had been killed during the insurrection of 1848, and he, when a year old, + was brought by his uncle, Thaddeus Panine, to France, and was educated at + the College Rollin, where he had not acquired over much learning. + </p> + <p> + In 1866, at the moment when war broke out between Prussia and Austria, + Serge was eighteen years old. By his uncle’s orders he had left Paris, and + had entered himself for the campaign in an Austrian cavalry regiment. All + who bore the name of Panine, and had strength to hold a sword or carry a + gun, had risen to fight the oppressor of Poland. Serge, during this short + and bloody struggle, showed prodigies of valor. On the night of Sadowa, + out of seven bearing the name of Panine, who had served against Prussia, + five were dead, one was wounded; Serge alone was untouched, though red + with the blood of his uncle Thaddeus, who was killed by the bursting of a + shell. All these Panines, living or dead, had gained honors. When they + were spoken of before Austrians or Poles, they were called heroes. + </p> + <p> + Such a man was a dangerous companion for a young, simple, and artless girl + like Micheline. His adventures were bound to please her imagination, and + his beauty sure to charm her eyes. Cayrol was a prudent man; he watched, + and it was not long before he perceived that Micheline treated the Prince + with marked favor. The quiet young girl became animated when Serge was + there. Was there love in this transformation? Cayrol did not hesitate. He + guessed at once that the future would be Panine’s, and that the + maintenance of his own influence in the house of Desvarennes depended on + the attitude which he was about to take. He passed over to the side of the + newcomer with arms and baggage, and placed himself entirely at his + disposal. + </p> + <p> + It was he who three weeks before, in the name of Panine, had made + overtures to Madame Desvarennes. The errand had been difficult, and the + banker had turned his tongue several times in his mouth before speaking. + Still, Cayrol could overcome all difficulties. He was able to explain the + object of his mission without Madame flying into a passion. But, the + explanation over, there was a terrible scene. He witnessed one of the most + awful bursts of rage that it was possible to expect from a violent woman. + The mistress treated the friend of the family as one would not have dared + to treat a petty commercial traveller who came to a private house to offer + his wares. She showed him the door, and desired him not to darken the + threshold again. + </p> + <p> + But if Cayrol was resolute he was equally patient. He listened without + saying a word to the reproaches of Madame Desvarennes, who was exasperated + that a candidate should be set up in opposition to the son-in-law of her + choosing. He did not go, and when Madame Desvarennes was a little calmed + by the letting out of her indignation, he argued with her. The mistress + was too hasty about the business; it was no use deciding without + reflecting. Certainly, nobody esteemed Pierre Delarue more than he did; + but it was necessary to know whether Micheline loved him. A childish + affection was not love, and Prince Panine thought he might hope that + Mademoiselle Desvarennes—— + </p> + <p> + The mistress did not allow Cayrol to finish his sentence; she rang the + bell and asked for her daughter. This time, Cayrol prudently took the + opportunity of disappearing. He had opened fire; it was for Micheline to + decide the result of the battle. The banker awaited the issue of the + interview between mother and daughter in the next room. Through the door + he heard the irritated tones of Madame Desvarennes, to which Micheline + answered softly and slowly. The mother threatened and stormed. Coldly and + quietly the daughter received the attack. The tussle lasted about an hour, + when the door reopened and Madame Desvarennes appeared, pale and still + trembling, but calmed. Micheline, wiping her beautiful eyes, still wet + with tears, regained her apartment. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Cayrol timidly, seeing the mistress standing silent and + absorbed before him; “I see with pleasure that you are less agitated. Did + Mademoiselle Micheline give you good reasons?” + </p> + <p> + “Good reasons!” cried Madame Desvarennes with a violent gesture, last + flash of the late storm. “She cried, that’s all. And you know when she + cries I no longer know what I do or say! She breaks my heart with her + tears. And she knows it. Ah! it is a great misfortune to love children too + much!” + </p> + <p> + This energetic woman was conquered, and yet understood that she was wrong + to allow herself to be conquered. She fell into a deep reverie, and forgot + that Cayrol was present. She thought of the future which she had planned + for Micheline, and which the latter carelessly destroyed in an instant. + </p> + <p> + Pierre, now an orphan, would have been a real son to the mistress. He + would have lived in her house, and have surrounded her old age with care + and affection. And then, he was so full of ability that he could not help + attaining a brilliant position. She would have helped him, and would have + rejoiced in his success. And all this scaffolding was overturned because + this Panine had crossed Micheline’s path. A foreign adventurer, prince + perhaps, but who could tell? Lies are easily told when the proofs of the + lie have to be sought beyond the frontiers. And it was her daughter who + was going to fall in love with an insipid fop who only coveted her + millions. That she should see such a man enter her family, steal + Micheline’s love from her, and rummage her strongbox! In a moment she + vowed mortal hatred against Panine, and resolved to do all she could to + prevent the longed-for marriage with her daughter. + </p> + <p> + She was disturbed in her meditation by Cayrol’s voice. He wished to take + an answer to the Prince. What must he say to him? + </p> + <p> + “You will let him know,” said Madame Desvarennes, “that he must refrain + from seeking opportunities of meeting my daughter. If he be a gentleman, + he will understand that his presence, even in Paris, is disagreeable to + me. I ask him to go away for three weeks. After that time he may come + back, and I agree to give him an answer.” + </p> + <p> + “You promise me that you will not be vexed with me for having undertaken + this errand?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise on one condition. It is, that not a word which has passed here + this morning shall be repeated to any one. Nobody must suspect the + proposal that you have just made to me.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol swore to hold his tongue, and he kept his word. Prince Panine left + that same night for England. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes was a woman of quick resolution. She took a sheet of + paper, a pen, and in her large handwriting wrote the following lines + addressed to Pierre: + </p> + <p> + “If you do not wish to find Micheline married on your return, come back + without a moment’s delay.” + </p> + <p> + She sent this ominous letter to the young man, who was then in Tripoli. + That done, she returned to her business as if nothing had happened. Her + placid face did not once betray the anguish of her heart during those + three weeks. + </p> + <p> + The term fixed by Madame Desvarennes with the Prince had expired that + morning. And the severity with which the mistress had received the + Minister of War’s Financial Secretary was a symptom of the agitation in + which the necessity of coming to a decision placed Micheline’s mother. + Every morning for the last week she had expected Pierre to arrive. What + with having to give an answer to the Prince as she had promised, and the + longing to see him whom she loved as a son, she felt sick at heart and + utterly cast down. She thought of asking the Prince for a respite. It was + for that reason she was glad to see Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + The latter, therefore, had arrived opportunely. He looked as if he brought + startling news. By a glance he drew Madame Desvarennes’s attention to + Marechal and seemed to say: + </p> + <p> + “I must be alone with you; send him away.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress understood, and with a decided gesture said: + </p> + <p> + “You can speak before Marechal; he knows all my affairs as well as I do + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Even the matter that brings me here?” replied Cayrol, with surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Even that. It was necessary for me to have some one to whom I could + speak, or else my heart would have burst! Come, do your errand. The + Prince?” + </p> + <p> + “A lot it has to do with the Prince,” exclaimed Cayrol, in a huff. “Pierre + has arrived!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes rose abruptly. A rush of blood rose to her face, her + eyes brightened, and her lips opened with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “At last!” she cried. “But where is he? How did you hear of his return?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! faith, it was just by chance. I was shooting yesterday at + Fontainebleau, and I returned this morning by the express. On arriving at + Paris, I alighted on the platform, and there I found myself face to face + with a tall young man with a long beard, who, seeing me pass, called out, + ‘Ah, Cayrol!’ It was Pierre. I only recognized him by his voice. He is + much changed; with his beard, and his complexion bronzed like an African.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. He pressed my hand. He looked at me for a moment with glistening + eyes. There was something on his lips which he longed to ask, yet did not; + but I guessed it. I was afraid of giving way to tenderness, that might + have ended in my saying something foolish, so I left him.” + </p> + <p> + “How long ago is that?” + </p> + <p> + “About an hour ago. I only just ran home before coming on here. There I + found Panine waiting for me. He insisted upon accompanying me. I hope you + won’t blame him?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes frowned. + </p> + <p> + “I will not see him just now,” she said, looking at Cayrol with a resolute + air. “Where did you leave him?” + </p> + <p> + “In the garden, where I found the young ladies.” + </p> + <p> + As if to verify the banker’s words, a merry peal of laughter was heard + through the half-open window. It was Micheline, who, with returning + gayety, was making up for the three weeks’ sadness she had experienced + during Panine’s absence. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes went to the window, and looked into the garden. Seated + on the lawn, in large bamboo chairs, the young girls were listening to a + story the Prince was telling. The morning was bright and mild; the sun + shining through Micheline’s silk sunshade lit up her fair head. Before + her, Serge, bending his tall figure, was speaking with animation. + Micheline’s eyes were softly fixed on him. Reclining in her armchair, she + allowed herself to be carried away with his conversation, and thoroughly + enjoyed his society, of which she had been deprived for the last three + weeks. Beside her, Jeanne, silently watching the Prince, was mechanically + nibbling, with her white teeth, a bunch of carnations which she held in + her hands. A painful thought contracted Mademoiselle de Cernay’s brow, and + her pale lips on the red flowers seemed to be drinking blood. + </p> + <p> + The mistress slowly turned away from this scene. A shadow had crossed her + brow, which had, for a moment, become serene again at the announcement of + Pierre’s arrival. She remained silent for a little while, as if + considering; then coming to a resolution, and turning to Cayrol, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Where is Pierre staying?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Hotel du Louvre,” replied the banker. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m going there.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes rang the bell violently. + </p> + <p> + “My bonnet, my cloak, and the carriage,” she said, and with a friendly nod + to the two men, she went out quickly. + </p> + <p> + Micheline was still laughing in the garden. Marechal and Cayrol looked at + each other. Cayrol was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “The mistress told you all about the matter then? How is it you never + spoke to me about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Should I have been worthy of Madame Desvarennes’s confidence had I spoken + of what she wished to keep secret?” + </p> + <p> + “To me?” + </p> + <p> + “Especially to you. The attitude which you have taken forbade my speaking. + You favor Prince Panine?” + </p> + <p> + “And you; you are on Pierre Delarue’s side?” + </p> + <p> + “I take no side. I am only a subordinate, you know; I do not count.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not attempt to deceive me. Your influence over the mistress is great. + The confidence she has in you is a conclusive proof. Important events are + about to take place here. Pierre has certainly returned to claim his right + as betrothed, and Mademoiselle Micheline loves Prince Serge. Out of this a + serious conflict will take place in the house. There will be a battle. And + as the parties in question are about equal in strength, I am seeking + adherents for my candidate. I own, in all humility, I am on love’s side. + The Prince is beloved by Mademoiselle Desvarennes, and I serve him. + Micheline will be grateful, and will do me a turn with Mademoiselle de + Cernay. As to you, let me give you a little advice. If Madame Desvarennes + consults you, speak well of Panine. When the Prince is master here, your + position will be all the better for it.” + </p> + <p> + Marechal had listened to Cayrol without anything betraying the impression + his words created. He looked at the banker in a peculiar manner, which + caused him to feel uncomfortable, and made him lower his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you do not know, Monsieur Cayrol,” said the secretary, after a + moment’s pause, “how I entered this firm. It is as well in that case to + inform you. Four years ago, I was most wretched. After having sought + fortune ten times without success, I felt myself giving way morally and + physically. There are some beings gifted with energy, who can surmount all + the difficulties of life. You are one of those. As for me, the struggle + exhausted my strength, and I came to grief. It would take too long to + enumerate all the ways of earning my living I tried. Few even fed me; and + I was thinking of putting an end to my miserable existence when I met + Pierre. We had been at college together. I went toward him; he was on the + quay. I dared to stop him. At first he did not recognize me, I was so + haggard, so wretched-looking! But when I spoke, he cried, ‘Marechal!’ and, + without blushing at my tatters, put his arms round my neck. We were + opposite the Belle Jardiniere, the clothiers; he wanted to rig me out. I + remember as if it were but yesterday I said, ‘No, nothing, only find me + work!’—‘Work, my poor fellow,’ he answered, ‘but just look at + yourself; who would have confidence to give you any? You look like a + tramp, and when you accosted me a little while ago, I asked myself if you + were not about to steal my watch!’ And he laughed gayly, happy at having + found me again, and thinking that he might be of use to me. Seeing that I + would not go into the shop, he took off his overcoat, and put it on my + back to cover my tattered clothes, and there and then he took me to Madame + Desvarennes. Two days later I entered the office. You see the position I + hold, and I owe it to Pierre. He has been more than a friend to me—a + brother. Come! after that, tell me what you would think of me if I did + what you have just asked me?” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol was confused; he twisted his bristly beard with his fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Faith, I do not say that your scruples are not right; but, between + ourselves, every step that is taken against the Prince will count for + naught. He will marry Mademoiselle Desvarennes.” + </p> + <p> + “It is possible. In that case, I shall be here to console Pierre and + sympathize with him.” + </p> + <p> + “And in the mean time you are going to do all you can in his favor?” + </p> + <p> + “I have already had the honor of telling you that I cannot do anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well. One knows what talking means, and you will not change my idea + of your importance. You take the weaker side then; that’s superb!” + </p> + <p> + “It is but strictly honest,” said Marechal. “It is true that that quality + has become very rare!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol wheeled round on his heels. He took a few steps toward the door, + then, returning to Marechal, held out his hand: + </p> + <p> + “Without a grudge, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The secretary allowed his hand to be shaken without answering, and the + banker went out, saying to himself: + </p> + <p> + “He is without a sou and has prejudices! There’s a lad without a future.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. THE RIVALS + </h2> + <p> + On reaching Paris, Pierre Delarue experienced a strange feeling. In his + feverish haste he longed for the swiftness of electricity to bring him + near Micheline. As soon as he arrived in Paris, he regretted having + travelled so fast. He longed to meet his betrothed, yet feared to know his + fate. + </p> + <p> + He had a sort of presentiment that his reception would destroy his hopes. + And the more he tried to banish these thoughts, the more forcibly they + returned. The thought that Micheline had forgotten her promise made the + blood rush to his face. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes’s short letter suggested it. That his betrothed was + lost to him he understood, but he would not admit it. How was it possible + that Micheline should forget him? All his childhood passed before his + mind. He remembered the sweet and artless evidences of affection which the + young girl had given him. And yet she no longer loved him! It was her own + mother who said so. After that could he still hope? + </p> + <p> + A prey to this deep trouble, Pierre entered Paris. On finding himself face + to face with Cayrol, the young man’s first idea was, as Cayrol had + guessed, to cry out, “What’s going on? Is all lost to me?” A sort of + anxious modesty kept back the words on his lips. He would not admit that + he doubted. And, then, Cayrol would only have needed to answer that all + was over, and that he could put on mourning for his love. He turned + around, and went out. + </p> + <p> + The tumult of Paris surprised and stunned him. After spending a year in + the peaceful solitudes of Africa, to find himself amid the cries of + street-sellers, the rolling of carriages, and the incessant movement of + the great city, was too great a contrast to him. Pierre was overcome by + languor; his head seemed too heavy for his body to carry; he mechanically + entered a cab which conveyed him to the Hotel du Louvre. Through the + window, against the glass of which he tried to cool his heated forehead, + he saw pass in procession before his eyes, the Column of July, the church + of St. Paul, the Hotel de Ville in ruins, and the colonnade of the Louvre. + </p> + <p> + An absurd idea took possession of him. He remembered that during the + Commune he was nearly killed in the Rue Saint-Antoine by the explosion of + a shell, thrown by the insurgents from the heights of Pere-Lachaise. He + thought that had he died then, Micheline would have wept for him. Then, as + in a nightmare, it seemed to him that this hypothesis was realized. He saw + the church hung with black, he heard the funeral chants. A catafalque + contained his coffin, and slowly his betrothed came, with a trembling + hand, to throw holy water on the cloth which covered the bier. And a voice + said within him: + </p> + <p> + “You are dead, since Micheline is about to marry another.” + </p> + <p> + He made an effort to banish this importunate idea. He could not succeed. + Thoughts flew through his brain with fearful rapidity. He thought he was + beginning to be seized with brain fever. And this dismal ceremony kept + coming before him with the same chants, the same words repeated, and the + same faces appearing. The houses seemed to fly before his vacant eyes. To + stop this nightmare he tried to count the gas-lamps: one, two, three, + four, five—but the same thought interrupted his calculation: + </p> + <p> + “You are dead, since your betrothed is about to marry another.” + </p> + <p> + He was afraid he was going mad. A sharp pain shot across his forehead just + above the right eyebrow. In the old days he had felt the same pain when he + had overworked himself in preparing for his examinations at the + Polytechnic School. With a bitter smile he asked himself if one of the + aching vessels in his brain was about to burst? + </p> + <p> + The sudden stoppage of the cab freed him from this torture. The hotel + porter opened the door. Pierre stepped out mechanically. Without speaking + a word he followed a waiter, who showed him to a room on the second floor. + Left alone, he sat down. This room, with its commonplace furniture, + chilled him. He saw in it a type of his future life: lonely and desolate. + Formerly, when he used to come to Paris, he stayed with Madame + Desvarennes, where he had the comforts of home, and every one looked on + him affectionately. + </p> + <p> + Here, at the hotel, orders were obeyed with politeness at so much a day. + Would it always be thus in future? + </p> + <p> + This painful impression dissipated his weakness as by enchantment. He so + bitterly regretted the sweets of the past, that he resolved to struggle to + secure them for the future. He dressed himself quickly, and removed all + the traces of his journey; then, his mind made up, he jumped into a cab, + and drove to Madame Desvarennes’s. All indecision had left him. His fears + now seemed contemptible. He must defend himself. It was a question of his + happiness. + </p> + <p> + At the Place de la Concorde a carriage passed his cab. He recognized the + livery of Madame Desvarennes’s coachman and leant forward. The mistress + did not see him. He was about to stop the cab and tell his driver to + follow her carriage when a sudden thought decided him to go on. It was + Micheline he wanted to see. His future destiny depended on her. Madame + Desvarennes had made him clearly understand that by calling for his help + in her fatal letter. He went on his way, and in a few minutes arrived at + the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique. + </p> + <p> + Micheline and Jeanne were still in the garden, seated in the same place on + the lawn. Cayrol had joined Serge. Both, profiting by the lovely morning, + were enjoying the society of their beloved ones. A quick step on the + gravel walk attracted their attention. In the sunlight a young man, whom + neither Jeanne nor Micheline recognized, was advancing. When about two + yards distant from the group he slowly raised his hat. + </p> + <p> + Seeing the constrained and astonished manner of the young girls, a sad + smile played on his lips, then he said, softly: + </p> + <p> + “Am I then so changed that I must tell you my name?” + </p> + <p> + At these words Micheline jumped up, she became as white as her collar, and + trembling, with sobs rising to her lips, stood silent and petrified before + Pierre. She could not speak, but her eyes were eagerly fixed on the young + man. It was he, the companion of her youth, so changed that she had not + recognized him; worn by hard work, perhaps by anxieties, bronzed—and + with his face hidden by a black beard which gave him a manly and energetic + appearance. It was certainly he, with a thin red ribbon at his + button-hole, which he had not when he went away, and which showed the + importance of the works he had executed and of great perils he had faced. + Pierre, trembling and motionless, was silent; the sound of his voice + choked with emotion had frightened him. He had expected a cold reception, + but this scared look, which resembled terror, was beyond all he had + pictured. Serge wondered and watched. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne broke the icy silence. She went up to Pierre, and presented her + forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “don’t you kiss your friends?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled affectionately on him. Two grateful tears sparkled in the young + man’s eyes, and fell on Mademoiselle de Cernay’s hair. Micheline, led away + by the example and without quite knowing what she was doing, found herself + in Pierre’s arms. The situation was becoming singularly perplexing to + Serge. Cayrol, who had not lost his presence of mind, understood it, and + turning toward the Prince, said: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Pierre Delarue: an old friend and companion of Mademoiselle + Desvarennes’s; almost a brother to her,” thus explaining in one word all + that could appear unusual in such a scene of tenderness. + </p> + <p> + Then, addressing Pierre, he simply added—“Prince Panine.” + </p> + <p> + The two men looked at each other. Serge, with haughty curiosity; Pierre, + with inexpressible rage. In a moment, he guessed that the tall, handsome + man beside his betrothed was his rival. If looks could kill, the Prince + would have fallen down dead. Panine did not deign to notice the hatred + which glistened in the eyes of the newcomer. He turned toward Micheline + with exquisite grace and said: + </p> + <p> + “Your mother receives her friends this evening, I think, Mademoiselle; I + shall have the honor of paying my respects to her.” + </p> + <p> + And taking leave of Jeanne with a smile, and of Pierre with a courteous + bow, he left, accompanied by Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + Serge’s departure was a relief to Micheline. Between these two men to whom + she belonged, to the one by a promise, to the other by an avowal, she felt + ashamed. Left alone with Pierre she recovered her self-possession, and + felt full of pity for the poor fellow threatened with such cruel + deception. She went tenderly to him, with her loving eyes of old, and + pressed his hand: + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to see you again, my dear Pierre; and my mother will be + delighted. We were very anxious about you. You have not written to us for + some months.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre tried to joke: “The post does not leave very often in the desert. I + wrote whenever I had an opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it so very pleasant in Africa that you could not tear yourself away a + whole year?” + </p> + <p> + “I had to take another journey on the coast of Tripoli to finish my + labors. I was interested in my work, and anxious not to lose the result of + so much effort, and I think I have succeeded—at least in—the + opinion of my employers,” said the young man, with a ghastly smile. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Pierre, you come in time from the land of the sphinx,” + interrupted Jeanne gravely, and glancing intently at Micheline. “There is + here, I assure you, a difficult enigma to solve.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “That which is written in this heart,” she replied, lightly touching her + companion’s breast. + </p> + <p> + “From childhood I have always read it as easily as a book,” said Pierre, + with tremulous voice, turning toward the amazed Micheline. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Cernay tossed her head. + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? Perhaps her disposition has changed during your absence;” and + nodding pleasantly, she went toward the house. + </p> + <p> + Pierre followed her for a moment with his eyes, then, turning toward his + betrothed, said: + </p> + <p> + “Micheline, shall I tell you your secret? You no longer love me.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl started. The attack was direct. She must at once give an + explanation. She had often thought of what she would say when Pierre came + back to her. The day had arrived unexpectedly. And the answers she had + prepared had fled. The truth appeared harsh and cold. She understood that + the change in her was treachery, of which Pierre was the innocent victim; + and feeling herself to blame, she waited tremblingly the explosion of this + loyal heart so cruelly wounded. She stammered, in tremulous accents: + </p> + <p> + “Pierre, my friend, my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Your brother!” cried the young man, bitterly. “Was that the name you were + to give me on my return?” + </p> + <p> + At these words, which so completely summed up the situation, Micheline + remained silent. Still she felt that at all hazards she must defend + herself. Her mother might come in at any moment. Between Madame + Desvarennes and her betrothed, what would become of her? The hour was + decisive. Her strong love for Serge gave her fresh energy. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you go away?” she asked, with sadness. + </p> + <p> + Pierre raised with pride his head which had been bent with anguish. + </p> + <p> + “To be worthy of you,” he merely said. + </p> + <p> + “You did not need to be worthy of me; you, who were already above every + one else. We were betrothed; you only had to guard me.” + </p> + <p> + “Could not your heart guard itself?” + </p> + <p> + “Without help, without the support of your presence and affection?” + </p> + <p> + “Without other help or support than I had myself: Hope and Remembrance.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline turned pale. Each word spoken by Pierre made her feel the + unworthiness of her conduct more completely. She endeavored to find a new + excuse: + </p> + <p> + “Pierre, you know I was only a child.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the young man, with choked voice, “I see that you were already + a woman; a being weak, inconstant, and cruel; who cares not for the love + she inspires, and sacrifices all to the love she feels.” + </p> + <p> + So long as Pierre had only complained, Micheline felt overwhelmed and + without strength; but the young man began to accuse. In a moment the young + girl regained her presence of mind and revolted. + </p> + <p> + “Those are hard words!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Are they not deserved?” cried Pierre, no longer restraining himself. “You + saw me arrive trembling, with eyes full of tears, and not only had you not + an affectionate word to greet me with, but you almost accuse me of + indifference. You reproach me with having gone away. Did you not know my + motive for going? I was betrothed to you; you were rich and I was poor. To + remove this inequality I resolved to make a name. I sought one of those + perilous scientific missions which bring celebrity or death to those who + undertake them. Ah! think not that I went away from you without + heart-breaking! For a year I was almost alone, crushed with fatigue, + always in danger; the thought that I was suffering for you supported me. + </p> + <p> + “When lost in the vast desert, I was sad and discouraged; I invoked you, + and your sweet face gave me fresh hope and energy. I said to myself, ‘She + is waiting for me. A day will come when I shall win the prize of all my + trouble.’ Well, Micheline, the day has come; here I am, returned, and I + ask for my reward. Is it what I had a right to expect? While I was running + after glory, another, more practical and better advised, stole your heart. + My happiness is destroyed. You did well to forget me. The fool who goes so + far away from his betrothed does not deserve her faithfulness. He is cold, + indifferent, he does not know how to love!” + </p> + <p> + These vehement utterances troubled Micheline deeply. For the first time + she understood her betrothed, felt how much he loved her, and regretted + not having known it before. If Pierre had spoken like that before going + away, who knows? Micheline’s feelings might have been quickened. No doubt + she would have loved him. It would have come naturally. But Pierre had + kept the secret of his passion for the young girl to himself. It was only + despair, and the thought of losing her, that made him give vent to his + feelings now. + </p> + <p> + “I see that I have been cruel and unjust to you,” said Micheline. “I + deserve your reproaches, but I am not the only one to blame. You, too, are + at fault. What I have just heard has upset me. I am truly sorry to cause + you so much pain; but it is too late. I no longer belong to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “And did you belong to yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “No! It is true, you had my word, but be generous. Do not abuse the + authority which being my betrothed gives you. That promise I would now ask + back from you.” + </p> + <p> + “And if I refuse to release you from your promise? If I tried to, regain + your love?” cried Pierre, forcibly. “Have I not the right to defend + myself? And what would you think of my love if I relinquished you so + readily?” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence. The interview was at its highest pitch of + excitement. Micheline knew that she must put an end to it. She replied + with firmness: + </p> + <p> + “A girl such as I am will not break her word; mine belongs to you, but my + heart is another’s. Say you insist, and I am ready to keep my promise to + become your wife. It is for you to decide.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre gave the young girl a look which plunged into the depths of her + heart. He read there her resolve that she would act loyally, but that at + the same time she would never forget him who had so irresistibly gained + her heart. He made a last effort. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” he said, with ardent voice, “it is impossible that you can have + forgotten me so soon: I love you so much! Remember our affection in the + old days, Micheline. Remember!” + </p> + <p> + He no longer argued; he pleaded. Micheline felt victorious. She was moved + with pity. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! my poor Pierre, my affection was only friendship, and my heart has + not changed toward you. The love which I now feel is quite different. If + it had not come to me, I might have been your wife. And I esteemed you so + much, that I should have been happy. But now I understand the difference. + You, whom I had accepted, would never have been more to me than a tender + companion; he whom I have chosen will be my master.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre uttered a cry at this cruel and frank avowal. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! how you hurt me!” + </p> + <p> + And bitter tears rolled down his face to the relief of his overburdened + heart. He sank on to a seat, and for a moment gave way to violent grief. + Micheline, more touched by his despair than she had been by his + reproaches, went to him and wiped his face with her lace handkerchief. Her + white hand was close to the young man’s mouth,—and he kissed it + eagerly. Then, as if roused by the action, he rose with a changed look in + his eyes, and seized the young girl in his arms. Micheline did not utter a + word. She looked coldly and resolutely at Pierre, and threw back her head + to avoid the contact of his eager lips. That look was enough. The arms + which held her were unloosed, and Pierre moved away, murmuring: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. You see I am not in my right mind.” + </p> + <p> + Then passing his hand across his forehead as if to chase away a wicked + thought, he added: + </p> + <p> + “So it is irrevocable? You love him?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough to give you so much pain; enough to be nobody’s unless I belong to + him.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre reflected a moment, then, coming to a decision: + </p> + <p> + “Go, you are free,” said he; “I give you back your promise.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline uttered a cry of triumph, which made him who had been her + betrothed turn pale. She regretted not having hidden her joy better. She + approached Pierre and said: + </p> + <p> + “Tell me that you forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + “I forgive you.” + </p> + <p> + “You still weep?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I am weeping over my lost happiness. I thought the best means of + being loved were to deserve it. I was mistaken. I will courageously atone + for my error. Excuse my weakness, and believe that you will never have a + more faithful and devoted friend than I.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline gave him her hand, and, smiling, bowed her forehead to his lips. + He slowly impressed a brotherly kiss, which effaced the burning trace of + the one which he had stolen a moment before. + </p> + <p> + At the same time a deep voice was heard in the distance, calling Pierre. + Micheline trembled. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis my mother,” she said. “She is seeking you. I will leave you. Adieu, + and a thousand thanks from my very heart.” + </p> + <p> + And nimbly springing behind a clump of lilac-trees in flower, Micheline + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Pierre mechanically went toward the house. He ascended the marble steps + and entered the drawing-room. As he shut the door, Madame Desvarennes + appeared. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. A CRITICAL INTERVIEW + </h2> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes had been driven to the Hotel du Louvre without losing a + minute. She most wanted to know in what state of mind her daughter’s + betrothed had arrived in Paris. Had the letter, which brutally told him + the truth, roused him and tightened the springs of his will? Was he ready + for the struggle? + </p> + <p> + If she found him confident and bold, she had only to settle with him as to + the common plan of action which must bring about the eviction of the + audacious candidate who wished to marry Micheline. If she found him + discouraged and doubtful of himself, she had decided to animate him with + her ardor against Serge Panine. + </p> + <p> + She prepared these arguments on the way, and, boiling with impatience, + outstripped in thought the fleet horse which was drawing her past the long + railings of the Tuileries toward the Hotel du Louvre. Wrapped in her + meditations she did not see Pierre. She was saying to herself: + </p> + <p> + “This fair-haired Polish dandy does not know with whom he has to deal. He + will see what sort of a woman I am. He has not risen early enough in the + morning to hoodwink me. If Pierre is only of the same opinion as I, we + shall soon spoil this fortune-hunter’s work.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Pierre Delarue?” inquired the mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, he went out a quarter of an hour ago.” + </p> + <p> + “To go where?” + </p> + <p> + “He did not say.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know whether he will be absent long?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, quite discomfited by this mischance, reflected. Where + could Pierre have gone? Probably to her house. Without losing a minute, + she reentered the carriage, and gave orders to return to the Rue + Saint-Dominique. If he had gone at once to her house, it was plain that he + was ready to do anything to keep Micheline. The coachman who had received + the order drove furiously. She said to herself: + </p> + <p> + “Pierre is in a cab. Allowing that he is driving moderately quick he will + only have half-an-hour’s start of me. He will pass through the office, + will see Marechal, and however eager he be, will lose a quarter of an hour + in chatting to him. It would be most vexing if he did anything foolish in + the remaining fifteen minutes! The fault is mine: I ought to have sent him + a letter at Marseilles, to tell him what line of conduct to adopt on his + arrival. So long as he does not meet Micheline on entering the house!” + </p> + <p> + At that idea Madame Desvarennes felt the blood rushing to her face. She + put her head out of the carriage window, and called to the coachman: + </p> + <p> + “Drive faster!” + </p> + <p> + He drove more furiously still, and in a few minutes reached the Rue + Saint-Dominique. + </p> + <p> + She tore into the house like a hurricane, questioned the hall-porter, and + learned that Delarue had arrived. She hastened to Marechal, and asked him + in such a strange manner, “Have you seen Pierre?” that he thought some + accident had happened. + </p> + <p> + On seeing her secretary’s scared look, she understood that what she most + dreaded had come to pass. She hurried to the drawing-room, calling Pierre + in a loud voice. The French window opened, and she found herself face to + face with the young man. A glance at her adopted son’s face increased her + fears. She opened her arms and clasped Pierre to her heart. + </p> + <p> + After the first emotions were over, she longed to know what had happened + during her absence, and inquired of Pierre: + </p> + <p> + “By whom were you received on arriving here?” + </p> + <p> + “By Micheline.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I feared! What did she tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything!” + </p> + <p> + In three sentences these two strong beings had summed up all that had + taken place. Madame Desvarennes remained silent for a moment, then, with + sudden tenderness, and as if to make up for her daughter’s treachery, + said: + </p> + <p> + “Come, let me kiss you again, my poor boy. You suffer, eh? and I too! I am + quite overcome. For ten years I have cherished the idea of your marrying + Micheline. You are a man of merit, and you have no relatives. You would + not take my daughter away from me; on the contrary I think you like me, + and would willingly live with me. In arranging this marriage I realized + the dream of my life. I was not taking a son-in-law-I was gaining a new + child.” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me,” said Pierre, sadly, “it is not my fault that your wish is + not carried out.” + </p> + <p> + “That, my boy, is another question!” cried Madame Desvarennes, whose voice + was at once raised two tones. “And that is where we do not agree. You are + responsible for what has occurred. I know what you are going, to tell me. + You wished to bring laurels to Micheline as a dower. That is all nonsense! + When one leaves the Polytechnic School with honors, and with a future open + to you like yours, it is not necessary to scour the deserts to dazzle a + young girl. One begins by marrying her, and celebrity comes afterward, at + the same time as the children. And then there was no need to risk all at + such a cost. What, are we then so grand? Ex-bakers! Millionaires, + certainly, which does not alter the fact that poor Desvarennes carried out + the bread, and that I gave change across the counter when folks came to + buy sou-cakes! But you wanted to be a knight-errant, and, during that + time, a handsome fellow. Did Micheline tell you the gentleman’s name?” + </p> + <p> + “I met him when I came here; he was with her in the garden. We were + introduced to each other.” + </p> + <p> + “That was good taste,” said Madame Desvarennes with irony. “Oh, he is a + youth who is not easily disturbed, and in his most passionate transports + will not disarrange a fold of his cravat. You know he is a Prince? That is + most flattering to the Desvarennes! We shall use his coat-of-arms as our + trade-mark. The fortune hunter, ugh! No doubt he said to himself, ‘The + baker has money—and her daughter is agreeable.’ And he is making a + business of it.” + </p> + <p> + “He is only following the example of many of his equals. Marriage is + to-day the sole pursuit of the nobility.” + </p> + <p> + “The nobility! That of our country might be tolerated, but foreign + noblemen are mere adventurers.” + </p> + <p> + “It is well known that the Panines come from Posen—the papers have + mentioned them more than twenty times.” + </p> + <p> + “Why is he not in his own country?” + </p> + <p> + “He is exiled.” + </p> + <p> + “He has done something wrong, then!” + </p> + <p> + “He has, like all his family, fought for independence.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he is a revolutionist!” + </p> + <p> + “A patriot.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind to tell me all that.” + </p> + <p> + “I may hate Prince Panine,” said Pierre, simply, “but that is no reason + why I should not be just to him.” + </p> + <p> + “So be it; he is an exceptional being, a great citizen, a hero, if you + like. But that does not prove that he will make my daughter happy. And if + you take my advice, we shall send him about his business in a very short + time.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes was excited and paced hurriedly up and down the room. + The idea of resuming the offensive after she had been forced to act on the + defensive for months past pleased her. She thought Pierre argued too much. + A woman of action, she did not understand why Pierre had not yet come to a + resolution. She felt that she must gain his confidence. + </p> + <p> + “You are master of the situation,” she said. “The Prince does not suit me—” + </p> + <p> + “Micheline loves him,” interrupted Pierre. + </p> + <p> + “She fancies so,” replied Madame Desvarennes. “She has got it into her + head, but it will wear off. You thoroughly understand that I did not bid + you to come from Africa to be present at my daughter’s wedding. If you are + a man, we shall see some fun. Micheline is your betrothed. You have our + word, and the word of a Desvarennes is as good as the signature.—It + has never been dishonored. Well, refuse to give us back our promise. Gain + time, make love, and take my daughter away from that dandy.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre remained silent for a few minutes. In a moment he measured the + extent of the mischief done, by seeing Micheline before consulting Madame + Desvarennes. With the help of this energetic woman he might have + struggled, whereas left to his own strength, he had at the outset been + vanquished and forced to lay down his arms. Not only had he yielded, but + he had drawn his ally into his defeat. + </p> + <p> + “Your encouragements come too late,” said he. “Micheline asked me to give + her back her promise, and I gave it to her.” + </p> + <p> + “You were so weak as that!” cried Madame Desvarennes. “And she had so much + boldness? Does she dote on him so? I suspected her plans, and I hastened + to warn you. But all is not lost. You have given Micheline back her + promise. So be it. But I have not given you back yours. You are pledged to + me. I will not countenance the marriage which my daughter has arranged + without my consent! Help me to break it off. And, faith, you could easily + find another woman worth Micheline, but where shall I find a son-in-law + worth you? Come, the happiness of us all is in peril; save it!” + </p> + <p> + “Why continue the struggle? I am beaten beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you forsake me, what can I do single-handed with Micheline?” + </p> + <p> + “Do what she wishes, as usual. You are surprised at my giving you this + advice? It is no merit on my part. Until now you have refused your + daughter’s request; but if she comes again beseeching and crying, you who + are so strong and can say so well ‘I will,’ will be weak and will not be + able to refuse her her Prince. Believe me; consent willingly. Who knows? + Your son’-in-law may be grateful to you for it by-and-by.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes had listened to Pierre with amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Really, you are incredible,” she said; “you discuss all this so calmly. + Have you no grief?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Pierre, solemnly, “it is almost killing me.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! You are boasting!” cried Madame Desvarennes, vehemently. “Ah, + scholar! figures have dried up your heart!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the young man, with melancholy, “but work has destroyed in + me the seductions of youth. It has made me thoughtful, and a little sad. I + frightened Micheline, instead of attracting her. The worst is that we live + in such a state of high pressure, it is quite impossible to grasp all that + is offered to us in this life-work and pleasure. It is necessary to make a + choice, to economize one’s time and strength, and to work with either the + heart or the brain alone. The result is that the neglected organ wastes + away, and that men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers, + while hard workers are pitiful lovers. The former sacrifice the dignity of + existence, the latter that which is the charm of existence. So that, in + decisive moments, when the man of pleasure appeals to his intelligence, he + finds he is unfit for duty, and when the man of toil appeals to his heart, + he finds that he is unqualified for happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my boy, so much the worse for the women who cannot appreciate men + of work, and who allow themselves to be wheedled by men of pleasure. I + never was one of those; and serious as you are, thirty years ago I would + have jumped at you. But as you know your ailment so well, why don’t you + cure yourself? The remedy is at hand.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Strong will. Marry Micheline. I’ll answer for everything.” + </p> + <p> + “She does not love me.” + </p> + <p> + “A woman always ends by loving her husband.” + </p> + <p> + “I love Micheline too much to accept her hand without her heart.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes saw that she would gain nothing, and that the game was + irrevocably lost. A great sorrow stole over her. She foresaw a dark + future, and had a presentiment that trouble had entered the house with + Serge Panine. What could she do? Combat the infatuation of her daughter! + She knew that life would be odious for her if Micheline ceased to laugh + and to sing. Her daughter’s tears would conquer her will. Pierre had told + her truly. Where was the use of fighting when defeat was certain? She, + too, felt that she was powerless, and with heartfelt sorrow came to a + decision. + </p> + <p> + “Come, I see that I must make up my mind to be grandmother to little + princes. It pleases me but little on the father’s account. My daughter + will have a sad lot with a fellow of that kind. Well, he had better keep + in the right path; for I shall be there to call him to order. Micheline + must be happy. When my husband was alive, I was already more of a mother + than a wife; now my whole life is wrapped up in my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Then raising her vigorous arms with grim energy, she added: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, if my daughter were made miserable through her husband, I + should be capable of killing him.” + </p> + <p> + These were the last words of the interview which decided the destiny of + Micheline, of the Prince, of Madame Desvarennes, and of Pierre. The + mistress stretched out her hand and rang the bell. A servant appeared, to + whom she gave instructions to tell Marechal to come down. She thought it + would be pleasant for Pierre to pour out his griefs into the heart of his + friend. A man weeps with difficulty before a woman, and she guessed that + the young man’s heart was swollen with tears. Marechal was not far off. He + arrived in a moment, and springing toward Pierre put his arms round his + neck. When Madame Desvarennes saw the two friends fully engrossed with + each other, she said to Marechal: + </p> + <p> + “I give you leave until this evening. Then bring Pierre back with you; I + wish to see him after dinner.” + </p> + <p> + And with a firm step she went toward Micheline’s room, where the latter + was waiting in fear to know the result of the interview. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. A SIGNIFICANT MEETING + </h2> + <p> + The mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique is certainly one of the finest to + be seen. Sovereigns alone have more sumptuous palaces. The wide staircase, + of carved oak, is bordered by a bronze balustrade, made by Ghirlandajo, + and brought from Florence by Sommervieux, the great dealer in curiosities. + Baron Rothschild would consent to give only a hundred thousand francs for + it. Madame Desvarennes bought it. The large panels of the staircase are + hung with splendid tapestry, from designs by Boucher, representing the + different metamorphoses of Jupiter. At each landing-place stands a massive + Japanese vase of ‘claisonne’ enamel, supported by a tripod of Chinese + bronze, representing chimeras. On the first floor, tall columns of red + granite, crowned by gilt capitals, divide the staircase from a gallery, + serving as a conservatory. Plaited blinds of crimson silk hang before the + Gothic windows, filled with marvellous stained glass. + </p> + <p> + In the vestibule-the hangings of which are of Cordova-leather, with gold + ground-seemingly awaiting the good pleasure of some grand lady, is a + sedan-chair, decorated with paintings by Fragonard. Farther on, there is + one of those superb carved mother-of-pearl coffers, in which Oriental + women lay by their finery and jewellery. A splendid Venetian mirror, its + frame embellished with tiny figure subjects, and measuring two metres in + width and three in height, fills a whole panel of the vestibule. Portieres + of Chinese satin, ornamented with striking embroidery, such as figures on + a priest’s chasuble, fall in sumptuous folds at the drawing-room and + dining-room doors. + </p> + <p> + The drawing-room contains a splendid set of Louis Quatorze furniture, of + gilt wood, upholstered in fine tapestry, in an extraordinary state of + preservation. Three crystal lustres, hanging at intervals along the room, + sparkle like diamonds. The hangings, of woven silk and gold, are those + which were sent as a present by Louis Quatorze to Monsieur de Pimentel, + the Spanish Ambassador, to reward him for the part he had taken in the + conclusion of the Treaty of the Pyrenees. These hangings are unique, and + were brought back from Spain in 1814, in the baggage-train of Soult’s + army, and sold to an inhabitant of Toulouse for ten thousand francs. It + was there that Madame Desvarennes discovered them in a garret in 1864, + neglected by the grandchildren of the buyer, who were ignorant of the + immense value of such unrivalled work. Cleverly mended, they are to-day + the pride of the great trader’s drawing-room. On the mantelpiece there is + a large clock in Chinese lacquer, ornamented with gilt bronze, made on a + model sent out from Paris in the reign of Louis Quatorze, and representing + the Flight of the Hours pursued by Time. + </p> + <p> + Adjoining the great drawing-room is a boudoir upholstered in light gray + silk damask, with bouquets of flowers. This is Madame Desvarennes’s + favorite room. A splendid Erard piano occupies one side of the apartment. + Facing it is a sideboard in sculptured ebony, enriched with bronze, by + Gouthieres. There are only two pictures on the walls: “The Departure of + the Newly Married Couple,” exquisitely painted by Lancret; and “The + Prediction,” an adorable work by Watteau, bought at an incredible price at + the Pourtales sale. Over the chimney-piece is a miniature by Pommayrac, + representing Micheline as a little child—a treasure which Madame + Desvarennes cannot behold without tears coming to her eyes. A door, hidden + by curtains, opens on to a staircase leading directly to the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + The dining-room is in the purest Renaissance style austere woodwork; + immense chests of caned pearwood, on which stand precious ewers in Urbino + ware, and dishes by Bernard Palissy. The high stone fireplace is + surmounted by a portrait of Diana of Poitiers, with a crescent on her + brow, and is furnished with firedogs of elaborately worked iron. The + centre panel bears the arms of Admiral Bonnivet. Stained-glass windows + admit a softly-tinted light. From the magnificently painted ceiling, a + chandelier of brass repousse work hangs from the claws of a hovering + eagle. + </p> + <p> + The billiard-room is in the Indian style. Magnificent panoplies unite + Rajpoot shields, Mahratta scimitars, helmets with curtains of steel, rings + belonging to Afghan chiefs, and long lances ornamented with white mares’ + tails, wielded by the horsemen of Cabul. The walls are painted from + designs brought from Lahore. The panels of the doors were decorated by + Gerome. The great artist has painted Nautch girls twisting their floating + scarves, and jugglers throwing poignards into the air. Around the room are + low divans, covered with soft and brilliant Oriental cloth. The chandelier + is quite original in form, being the exact representation of the god + Vishnu. From the centre of the body hangs a lotus leaf of emeralds, and + from each of the four arms is suspended a lamp shaped like a Hindu pagoda, + which throws out a mellow light. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes was entertaining her visitors in these celebrated + apartments that evening. Marechal and Pierre had just come in, and were + talking together near the fireplace. A few steps from them was a group, + consisting of Cayrol, Madame Desvarennes, and a third person, who had + never until then put his foot in the house, in spite of intercessions in + his favor made by the banker to Madame Desvarennes. He was a tall, pale, + thin man, whose skin seemed stretched on his bones, with a strongly + developed under-jaw, like that of a ravenous animal, and eyes of + indefinable color, always changing, and veiled behind golden-rimmed + spectacles. His hands were soft and smooth, with moist palms and closely + cut nails—vicious hands, made to take cunningly what they coveted. + He had scanty hair, of a pale yellow, parted just above the ear, so as to + enable him to brush it over the top of his head. This personage, clad in a + double-breasted surtout, over a white waistcoat, and wearing a + many-colored rosette, was called Hermann Herzog. + </p> + <p> + A daring financier, he had come from Luxembourg, preceded by a great + reputation; and, in a few months, he had launched in Paris such a series + of important affairs that the big-wigs on the Exchange felt bound to treat + with him. There were many rumors current about him. Some said he was the + most intelligent, most active, and most scrupulous of men that it was + possible to meet. Others said that no greater scoundrel had ever dared the + vengeance of the law, after plundering honest people. Of German + nationality, those who cried him down said he was born at Mayence. Those + who treated the rumors as legends said he was born at Frankfort, the most + Gallic town beyond the river Rhine. + </p> + <p> + He had just completed an important line of railway from Morocco to the + centre of our colony in Algeria, and now he was promoting a company for + exporting grain and flour from America. Several times Cayrol had tried to + bring Herzog and Madame Desvarennes together. The banker had an interest + in the grain and flour speculation, but he asserted that it would not + succeed unless the mistress had a hand in it. Cayrol had a blind faith in + the mistress’s luck. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, suspicious of everything foreign, and perfectly + acquainted with the rumors circulated respecting Herzog, had always + refused to receive him. But Cayrol had been so importunate that, being + quite tired of refusing, and, besides, being willing to favor Cayrol for + having so discreetly managed the negotiations of Micheline’s marriage, she + had consented. + </p> + <p> + Herzog had just arrived. He was expressing to Madame Desvarennes his + delight at being admitted to her house. He had so often heard her highly + spoken of that he had formed a high idea of her, but one which was, + however, far below the reality; he understood now that it was an honor to + be acquainted with her. He wheedled her with German grace, and with a + German-Jewish accent, which reminds one of the itinerant merchants, who + offer you with persistence “a goot pargain.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress had been rather cold at first, but Herzog’s amiability had + thawed her. This man, with his slow speech and queer eyes, produced a + fascinating effect on one like a serpent. He was repugnant, and yet, in + spite of one’s self one was led on. He, had at once introduced the grain + question, but in this he found himself face to face with the real Madame + Desvarennes; and no politeness held good on her part when it was a + question of business. From his first words, she had found a weak point in + the plan, and had attacked him with such plainness that the financier, + seeing his enterprise collapse at the sound of the mistress’s voice-like + the walls of Jericho at the sound of the Jewish trumpets—had beaten + a retreat, and had changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + He was about to float a credit and discount company superior to any in the + world. He would come back and talk with Madame Desvarennes about it, + because she ought to participate in the large profits which the matter + promised. There was no risk. The novelty of the undertaking consisted in + the concurrence of the largest banking-houses of France and abroad, which + would hinder all competition, and prevent hostility on the part of the + great money-handlers. It was very curious, and Madame Desvarennes would + feel great satisfaction in knowing the mechanism of this company, destined + to become, from the first, the most important in the world, and yet most + easy to understand. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes neither said “Yes” nor “No.” Moved by the soft and + insinuating talkativeness of Herzog, she felt herself treading on + dangerous ground. It seemed to her that her foot was sinking, as in those + dangerous peat-mosses of which the surface is covered with green grass, + tempting one to run on it. Cayrol was under the charm. He drank in the + German’s words. This clever man, who had never till then been duped, had + found his master in Herzog. + </p> + <p> + Pierre and Marechal had come nearer, and Madame Desvarennes, profiting by + this mingling of groups, introduced the men to each other. On hearing the + name of Pierre Delarue, Herzog looked thoughtful, and asked if the young + man was the renowned engineer whose works on the coast of Africa had + caused so much talk in Europe? On Madame Desvarennes replying in the + affirmative, he showered well-chosen compliments on Pierre. He had had the + pleasure of meeting Delarue in Algeria, when he had gone over to finish + the railroad in Morocco. + </p> + <p> + But Pierre had stepped back on learning that the constructor of that + important line was before him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! is it you, sir, who carried out that job?” said he. “Faith! you + treated those poor Moors rather hardly!” + </p> + <p> + He remembered the misery of the poor natives employed by Europeans who + superintended the work. Old men, women, and children were placed at the + disposal of the contractors by the native authorities, to dig up and + remove the soil; and these poor wretches, crushed with hard work, and + driven with the lash by drunken overseers—who commanded them with a + pistol in hand—under a burning sun, inhaled the noxious vapors + arising from the upturned soil, and died like flies. It was a terrible + sight, and one that Pierre could not forget. + </p> + <p> + But Herzog, with his cajoling sweetness, protested against this + exaggerated picture. Delarue had arrived during the dog-days—a bad + time. And then, it was necessary for the work to be carried on without + delay. Besides, a few Moors, more or less—what did it matter? + Negroes, all but monkeys! + </p> + <p> + Marechal, who had listened silently until then, interrupted the + conversation, to defend the monkeys in the name of Littre. He had framed a + theory, founded on Darwin, and tending to prove that men who despised + monkeys despised themselves. Herzog, a little taken aback by this + unexpected reply, had looked at Marechal slyly, asking himself if it was a + joke. But, seeing Madame Desvarennes laugh, he recovered his + self-possession. Business could not be carried on in the East as in + Europe. And then, had it not always been thus? Had not all the great + discoverers worked the countries which they discovered? Christopher + Columbus, Cortez—had they not taken riches from the Indians, in + exchange for the civilization which they brought them? He (Herzog) had, in + making a railway in Morocco, given the natives the means of civilizing + themselves. It was only fair that it should cost them something. + </p> + <p> + Herzog uttered his tirade with all the charm of which he was capable; he + looked to the right and to the left to notice the effect. He saw nothing + but constrained faces. It seemed as if they were expecting some one or + something. Time was passing; ten o’clock had just struck. From the little + boudoir sounds of music were occasionally heard, when Micheline’s nervous + hand struck a louder chord on her piano. She was there, anxiously awaiting + some one or something. Jeanne de Cernay, stretched in an easy-chair, her + head leaning on her hand, was dreaming. + </p> + <p> + During the past three weeks the young girl had changed. Her bright wit no + longer enlivened Micheline’s indolent calmness; her brilliant eyes were + surrounded by blue rings, which denoted nights passed without sleep. The + change coincided strangely with Prince Panine’s departure for England, and + the sending of the letter which recalled Pierre to Paris. Had the + inhabitants of the mansion been less occupied with their own troubles, + they would no doubt have noticed this sudden change, and have sought to + know the reason. But the attention of all was concentrated on the events + which had already troubled them, and which would no doubt be yet more + serious to the house, until lately so quiet. + </p> + <p> + The visitors’ bell sounded, and caused Micheline to rise. The blood rushed + to her cheeks. She whispered, “It is he!” and, hesitating, she remained a + moment leaning on the piano, listening vaguely to the sounds in the + drawing-room. The footman’s voice announcing the visitor reached the young + girls: + </p> + <p> + “Prince Panine.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne also rose then, and if Micheline had turned round she would have + been frightened at the pallor of her companion. But Mademoiselle + Desvarennes was not thinking of Mademoiselle de Cernay; she had just + raised the heavy door curtain, and calling to Jeanne, “Are you coming?” + passed into the drawing-room: + </p> + <p> + It was indeed Prince Serge, who was expected by Cayrol with impatience, by + Madame Desvarennes with silent irritation, by Pierre with deep anguish. + The handsome prince, calm and smiling, with white cravat and elegantly + fitting dress-coat which showed off his fine figure, advanced toward + Madame Desvarennes before whom he bowed. He seemed only to have seen + Micheline’s mother. Not a look for the two young girls or the men who were + around him. The rest of the universe did not seem to count. He bent as if + before a queen, with a dash of respectful adoration. He seemed to be + saying: + </p> + <p> + “Here I am at your feet; my life depends on you; make a sign and I shall + be the happiest of men or the most miserable.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline followed him with eyes full of pride; she admired his haughty + grace and his caressing humility. It was by these contrasts that Serge had + attracted the young girl’s notice. She felt herself face to face with a + strange nature, different from men around her, and had become interested + in him. Then he had spoken to her, and his sweet penetrating voice had + touched her heart. + </p> + <p> + What he had achieved with Micheline he longed to achieve with her mother. + After placing himself at the feet of the mother of her whom he loved, he + sought the road to her heart. He took his place beside the mistress and + spoke. He hoped that Madame Desvarennes would excuse the haste of his + visit. The obedience which he had shown in going away must be a proof to + her of his submission to her wishes. He was her most devoted and + respectful servant. He resigned himself to anything she might exact of + him. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes listened to that sweet voice; she had never heard it so + full of charm. She understood what influence this sweetness had exercised + over Micheline; she repented not having watched over her more carefully, + and cursed the hour that had brought all this evil upon them. She was + obliged, however, to answer him. The mistress went straight to the point. + She was not one to beat about the bush when once her mind was made up. + </p> + <p> + “You come, no doubt, sir, to receive an answer to the request you + addressed to me before your departure for England!” + </p> + <p> + The Prince turned slightly pale. The words which Madame Desvarennes was + about to pronounce were of such importance to him that he could not help + feeling moved. He answered, in a suppressed tone: + </p> + <p> + “I would not have dared to speak to you on the subject, Madame, especially + in public; but since you anticipate my desire, I admit I am waiting with + deep anxiety for one word from you which will decide my fate.” + </p> + <p> + He continued bent before Madame Desvarennes like a culprit before his + judge. The mistress was silent for a moment, as if hesitating before + answering, and then said, gravely: + </p> + <p> + “That word I hesitated to pronounce, but some one in whom I have great + confidence has advised me to receive you favorably.” + </p> + <p> + “He, Madame, whoever he may be, has gained my everlasting gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “Show it to him,” said Madame Desvarennes; “he is the companion of + Micheline’s young days, almost a son to me.” + </p> + <p> + And turning toward Pierre, she pointed him out to Panine. + </p> + <p> + Serge took three rapid strides toward Pierre, but quick as he had been + Micheline was before him. Each of the lovers seized a hand of Pierre, and + pressed it with tender effusion. Panine, with his Polish impetuosity, was + making the most ardent protestations to Pierre—he would be indebted + to him for life. + </p> + <p> + Micheline’s late betrothed, with despair in his heart, allowed his hands + to be pressed and wrung in silence. The voice of her whom he loved brought + tears to his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “How generous and good you are!” said the young girl, “how nobly you have + sacrificed yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t thank me,” replied Pierre; “I have no merit in accomplishing what + you admire. I am weak, you see, and I could not bear to see you suffer.” + </p> + <p> + There was a great commotion in the drawing-room. Cayrol was explaining to + Herzog, who was listening with great attention, what was taking place. + Serge Panine was to be Madame Desvarennes’s son-in-law. It was a great + event. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the German; “Madame Desvarennes’s son-in-law will become + a financial power. And a Prince, too. What a fine name for a board of + directors!” + </p> + <p> + The two financiers looked at each other for a moment; the same thought had + struck them. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but,” replied Cayrol, “Madame Desvarennes will never allow Panine to + take part in business.” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows?” said Herzog. “We shall see how the marriage settlements are + drawn up.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” cried Cayrol, “I would not have it said that I was leading Madame + Desvarennes’s son-in-law into speculations.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is speaking of that?” replied Herzog, coldly. “Am I seeking + shareholders? I have more money than I want; I refuse millions every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know capitalists run after you,” said Cayrol, laughingly; “and to + welcome them you affect the scruples of a pretty woman. But let us go and + congratulate the Prince.” + </p> + <p> + While Cayrol and Herzog were exchanging those few words which had such a + considerable influence on the future of Serge Panine—a scene, + terrible in its simplicity, was going on without being noticed. Micheline + had thrown herself with a burst of tenderness into her mother’s arms. + Serge was deeply affected by the young girl’s affection for him, when a + trembling hand touched his arm. He turned round. Jeanne de Cernay was + before him, pale and wan; her eyes sunken into her head like two black + nails, and her lips tightened by a violent contraction. The Prince stood + thunderstruck at the sight of her. He looked around him. Nobody was + observing him. Pierre was beside Marechal, who was whispering those words + which only true friends can find in the sad hours of life. Madame + Desvarennes was holding Micheline in her arms. Serge approached + Mademoiselle de Cernay. Jeanne still fixed on him the same menacing look. + He was afraid. + </p> + <p> + “Take care!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Of what?” asked the young girl, with a troubled voice. “What have I to + fear now?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish?” resumed Panine, with old firmness, and with a gesture + of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to speak with you immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “You see that is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “I must.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol and Herzog approached. Serge smiled at Jeanne with a sign of the + head which meant “Yes.” The young girl turned away in silence, awaiting + the fulfilment of the promise made. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol took her by the hand with tender familiarity. + </p> + <p> + “What were you saying to the happy man who has gained the object of his + dreams, Mademoiselle? It is not to him you must speak, but to me, to give + me hope. The moment is propitious; it is the day for betrothals. You know + how much I love you; do me the favor of no longer repulsing me as you have + done hitherto! If you would be kind, how charming it would be to celebrate + the two weddings on the same day. One church, one ceremony, one splendid + feast would unite two happy couples. Is there nothing in this picture to + entice you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not easily enticed, as you know,” said Jeanne, in a firm voice, + trying to smile. + </p> + <p> + Micheline and Madame Desvarennes had drawn near. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Cayrol,” said Serge, in a tone of command; “I am happy to-day; + perhaps I may succeed in your behalf as I have done in my own. Let me + plead your cause with Mademoiselle de Cernay?” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart. I need an eloquent pleader,” sighed the banker, + shaking his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “And you, Mademoiselle, will you submit to the trial?” asked the Prince, + turning toward Jeanne. “We have always been good friends, and I shall be + almost a brother to you. This gives me some right over your mind and + heart, it seems to me. Do you authorize me to exercise it?” + </p> + <p> + “As you like, sir,” answered Jeanne, coldly. “The attempt is novel. Who + knows? Perhaps it will succeed!” + </p> + <p> + “May Heaven grant it,” said Cayrol. Then, approaching Panine: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! dear Prince, what gratitude I shall owe you! You know,” added he in a + whisper, “if you need a few thousand louis for wedding presents—” + </p> + <p> + “Go, go, corrupter!” replied Serge, with the same forced gayety; “you are + flashing your money in front of us. You see it is not invincible, as you + are obliged to have recourse to my feeble talents. But know that I am + working for glory.” + </p> + <p> + And turning toward Madame Desvarennes he added: “I only ask a quarter of + an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t defend yourself too much,” said Micheline in her companion’s ear, + and giving her a tender kiss which the latter did not return. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me,” said Micheline to Pierre, offering him her arm; “I want to + belong to you alone while Serge is pleading with Jeanne. I will be your + sister as formerly. If you only knew how I love you!” + </p> + <p> + The large French window which led to the garden had just been opened by + Marechal, and the mild odors of a lovely spring night perfumed the + drawing-room. They all went out on the lawn. Thousands of stars were + twinkling in the sky, and the eyes of Micheline and Pierre were lifted + toward the dark blue heavens seeking vaguely for the star which presided + over their destiny. She, to know whether her life would be the long poem + of love of which she dreamed; he, to ask whether glory, that exacting + mistress for whom he had made so many sacrifices, would at least comfort + him for his lost love. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 2. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. JEANNE’S SECRET + </h2> + <p> + In the drawing-room Jeanne and Serge remained standing, facing each other. + The mask had fallen from their faces; the forced smile had disappeared. + They looked at each other attentively, like two duellists seeking to read + each other’s game, so that they may ward off the fatal stroke and prepare + the decisive parry. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you leave for England three weeks ago, without seeing me and + without speaking to me?” + </p> + <p> + “What could I have said to you?” replied the Prince, with an air of + fatigue and dejection. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne flashed a glance brilliant as lightning: + </p> + <p> + “You could have told me that you had just asked for Micheline’s hand!” + </p> + <p> + “That would have been brutal!” + </p> + <p> + “It would have been honest! But it would have necessitated an explanation, + and you don’t like explaining. You have preferred leaving me to guess this + news from the acts of those around me, and the talk of strangers.” + </p> + <p> + All these words had been spoken by Jeanne with feverish vivacity. The + sentences were as cutting as strokes from a whip. The young girl’s + agitation was violent; her cheeks were red, and her breathing was hard and + stifled with emotion. She stopped for a moment; then, turning toward the + Prince, and looking him full in the face, she said: + </p> + <p> + “And so, this marriage is decided?” + </p> + <p> + Serge answered, + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + It was fainter than a whisper. As if she could not believe it, Jeanne + repeated: + </p> + <p> + “You are going to marry Micheline?” + </p> + <p> + And as Panine in a firmer voice answered again, “Yes!” the young girl took + two rapid steps and brought her flushed face close to him. + </p> + <p> + “And I, then?” she cried with a violence she could no longer restrain. + </p> + <p> + Serge made a sign. The drawing-room window was still open, and from + outside they could be heard. + </p> + <p> + “Jeanne, in mercy calm yourself,” replied he. “You are in a state of + excitement.” + </p> + <p> + “Which makes you uncomfortable?” interrupted the young girl mockingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but for your sake only,” said he, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “For mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. I fear your committing an imprudence which might harm you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but you with me! And it is that only which makes you afraid.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince looked at Mademoiselle de Cernay, smilingly. Changing his tone, + he took her hand in his. + </p> + <p> + “How naughty you are to-night! And what temper you are showing toward poor + Serge! What an opinion he will have of himself after your displaying such + a flattering scene of jealousy!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne drew away her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, don’t try to joke. This is not the moment, I assure you. You don’t + exactly realize your situation. Don’t you understand that I am prepared to + tell Madame Desvarennes everything—” + </p> + <p> + “Everything!” said the Prince. “In truth, it would not amount to much. You + would tell her that I met you in England; that I courted you, and that you + found my attentions agreeable. And then? It pleases you to think too + seriously of that midsummer night’s dream under the great trees of + Churchill Castle, and you reproach me for my errors! But what are they? + Seriously, I do not see them! We lived in a noisy world; where we enjoyed + the liberty which English manners allow to young people. Your aunt found + no fault with the charming chatter which the English call flirtation. I + told you I loved you; you allowed me to think that I was not displeasing + to you. We, thanks to that delightful agreement, spent a most agreeable + summer, and now you do not wish to put an end to that pleasant little + excursion made beyond the limits drawn by our Parisian world, so severe, + whatever people say about it. It is not reasonable, and it is imprudent. + If you carry out your menacing propositions, and if you take my future + mother-in-law as judge of the rights which you claim, don’t you understand + that you would be condemned beforehand? Her interests are directly opposed + to yours. Could she hesitate between her daughter and you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! your calculations are clever and your measures were well taken,” + replied Jeanne. “Still, if Madame Desvarennes were not the woman you think + her—” Then, hesitating: + </p> + <p> + “If she took my part, and thinking that he who was an unloyal lover would + be an unfaithful husband—she would augur of the future of her + daughter by my experience; and what would happen?” + </p> + <p> + “Simply this,” returned Serge. “Weary of the precarious and hazardous life + which I lead, I would leave for Austria, and rejoin the service. A uniform + is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne looked at him with anguish; and making an effort said: + </p> + <p> + “Then, in any case, for me it is abandonment?” And falling upon a seat, + she hid her face in her hands. Panine remained silent for a moment. The + young girl’s, grief, which he knew to be sincere, troubled him more than + he wished to show. He had loved Mademoiselle de Cernay, and he loved her + still. But he felt that a sign of weakness on his part would place him at + Jeanne’s mercy, and that an avowal from his lips at this grave moment + meant a breaking-off of his marriage with Micheline. He hardened himself + against his impressions, and replied, with insinuating sweetness: + </p> + <p> + “Why do you speak of desertion, when a good man who loves you fondly, and + who possesses a handsome fortune, wishes to marry you?” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Cernay raised her head, hastily. + </p> + <p> + “So, it is you who advise me to marry Monsieur Cayrol? Is there nothing + revolting to you in the idea that I should follow your advice? But then, + you deceived me from the first moment you spoke to me. You have never + loved me even for a day! Not an hour!” + </p> + <p> + Serge smiled, and resuming his light, caressing tone, replied: + </p> + <p> + “My dear Jeanne, if I had a hundred thousand francs a year, I give you my + word of honor that I would not marry another woman but you, for you would + make an adorable Princess.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Cernay made a gesture of perfect indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! what does the title matter to me?” she exclaimed, with passion. “What + I want is you! Nothing but you!” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know what you ask. I love you far too much to associate you + with my destiny. If you knew that gilded misery, that white kid-gloved + poverty, which is my lot, you would be frightened, and you would + understand that in my resolution to give you up there is much of + tenderness and generosity. Do you think it is such an easy matter to give + up a woman so adorable as you are? I resign myself to it, though. + </p> + <p> + “What could I do with my beautiful Jeanne in the three rooms in the Rue de + Madame where I live? Could I, with the ten or twelve thousand francs which + I receive through the liberality of the Russian Panines, provide a home? I + can hardly make it do for myself. I live at the club, where I dine + cheaply. I ride my friends’ horses! I never touch a card, although I love + play. I go much in society; I shine there, and walk home to save the cost + of a carriage. My door-keeper cleans my rooms and keeps my linen in order. + My private life is sad, dull, and humiliating. It is the black chrysalis + of the bright butterfly which you know. That is what Prince Panine is, my + dear Jeanne. A gentleman of good appearance, who lives as carefully as an + old maid. The world sees him elegant and happy, and its envies his luxury; + but this luxury is as deluding as watch-chains made of pinchbeck. You + understand now that I cannot seriously ask you to share such an + existence.” + </p> + <p> + But if, with this sketch of his life, correctly described, Panine thought + to turn the young girl against him, he was mistaken. He had counted + without considering Jeanne’s sanguine temperament, which would lead her to + make any sacrifices to keep the man she adored. + </p> + <p> + “If you were rich, Serge,” she said, “I would not have made an effort to + bring you back to me. But you are poor and I have a right to tell you that + I love you. Life with you would be all devotedness and self-denial. Each + pain endured would be a proof of love, and that is why I wish to suffer. + Your life with mine would be neither sad nor humiliated; I would make it + sweet by my tenderness, and bright by my happiness. And we should be so + happy that you would say, ‘How could I ever have dreamed of anything + else?’” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! Jeanne,” replied the Prince; “it is a charming and poetic idyl + which you present to me. We should flee far from the world, eh? We should + go to an unknown spot and try to regain paradise lost. How long would that + happiness last? A season during the springtime of our youth. Then autumn + would come, sad and harsh. Our illusions would vanish like the swallows in + romances, and we should find, with alarm, that we had taken the dream of a + day for eternal happiness! Forgive my speaking plain words of + disenchantment,” added Serge, seeing Jeanne rising abruptly, “but our life + is being settled at this moment. Reason alone should guide us.” + </p> + <p> + “And I beseech you to be guided only by your heart,” cried Mademoiselle de + Cernay, seizing the hands of the Prince, and pressing them with her + trembling fingers. “Remember that you loved me. Say that you love me + still!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne had drawn near to Serge. Her burning face almost touched his. Her + eyes, bright with excitement, pleaded passionately for a tender look. She + was most fascinating, and Panine, usually master of himself, lost his + presence of mind for a moment. His arms encircled the shoulders of the + adorable pleader, and his lips were buried in the masses of her dark hair. + </p> + <p> + “Serge!” cried Mademoiselle de Cernay, clinging to him whom she loved so + fondly. + </p> + <p> + But the Prince was as quickly calmed as he had been carried away. He + gently put Jeanne aside. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he said with a smile, “how unreasonable we are and how easily + we might commit an irreparable folly. And yet our means will not allow + us.” + </p> + <p> + “In mercy do not leave me!” pleaded Jeanne, in a tone of despair. “You + love me! I feel it; everything tells me so! And you would desert me + because you are poor and I am not rich. Is a man ever poor when he has two + arms? Work.” + </p> + <p> + The word was uttered by Jeanne with admirable energy. She possessed the + courage to overcome every difficulty. + </p> + <p> + Serge trembled. For the second time he felt touched to the very soul by + this strange girl. He understood that he must not leave her with the + slightest hope of encouragement, but throw ice on the fire which was + devouring her. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Jeanne,” he said, with affectionate sweetness, “you are talking + nonsense. Remember this, that for Prince Panine there are only three + social conditions possible: to be rich, a soldier, or a priest. I have the + choice. It is for you to decide.” + </p> + <p> + This put an end to Mademoiselle de Cernay’s resistance. She felt how + useless was further argument, and falling on a sofa, crushed with grief, + cried: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! this time it is finished; I am lost!” + </p> + <p> + Panine, then, approaching her, insinuating and supple, like the serpent + with the first woman, murmured in her ear, as if afraid lest his words, in + being spoken aloud, would lose their subtle venom: + </p> + <p> + “No, you are not lost. On the contrary, you are saved, if you will only + listen to and understand me. What are we, you and I? You, a child adopted + by a generous woman; I, a ruined nobleman. You live in luxury, thanks to + Madame Desvarennes’s liberality. I can scarcely manage to keep myself with + the help of my family. Our present is precarious, our future hazardous. + And, suddenly, fortune is within our grasp. We have only to stretch out + our hands, and with one stroke we gain the uncontested power which money + brings! + </p> + <p> + “Riches, that aim of humanity! Do you understand? We, the weak and + disdained, become strong and powerful. And what is necessary to gain them? + A flash of sense; a minute of wisdom; forget a dream and accept a + reality.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne waited till he had finished. A bitter smile played on her lips. + Henceforth she would believe in no one. After listening to what Serge had + just said, she could listen to anything. + </p> + <p> + “So,” said she, “the dream is love; the reality is interest. And is it you + who speak thus to me? You, for whom I was prepared to endure any + sacrifice! You, whom I would have served on my knees! And what reason do + you give to justify your conduct? Money! Indispensable and stupid money! + Nothing but money! But it is odious, infamous, low!” + </p> + <p> + Serge received this terrible broadside of abuse without flinching. He had + armed himself against contempt, and was deaf to all insults. Jeanne went + on with increasing rage: + </p> + <p> + “Micheline has everything: family, fortune, and friends, and she is taking + away my one possession—your love. Tell me that you love her! It will + be more cruel but less vile! But no, it is not possible! You gave way to + temptation at seeing her so rich; you had a feeling of covetousness, but + you will become yourself again and will act like an honest man. Think, + that in my eyes you are dishonoring yourself! Serge, answer me!” + </p> + <p> + She clung to him again, and tried to regain him by her ardor, to warm him + with her passion. He remained unmoved, silent, and cold. Her conscience + rebelled. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said she, “marry her.” + </p> + <p> + She remained silent and sullen, seeming to forget he was there. She was + thinking deeply. Then she walked wildly up and down the room, saying: + </p> + <p> + “So, it is that implacable self-interest with which I have just come in + contact, which is the law of the world, the watchword of society! So, in + refusing to share the common folly, I risk remaining in isolation, and I + must be strong to make others stand in awe of me. Very well, then, I shall + henceforth act in such a manner as to be neither dupe nor victim. In + future, everything will be: self, and woe to him who hinders me. That is + the morality of the age, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + And she laughed nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Was I not stupid? Come, Prince, you have made me clever. Many thanks for + the lesson; it was difficult, but I shall profit by it.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince, astonished at the sudden change, listened to Jeanne with + stupor. He did not yet quite understand. + </p> + <p> + “What do you intend to do?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne looked at him with a fiendish expression. Her eyes sparkled like + stars; her white teeth shone between her lips. + </p> + <p> + “I intend,” replied she, “to lay the foundation of my power, and to follow + your advice, by marrying a millionaire!” + </p> + <p> + She ran to the window, and, looking out toward the shady garden, called: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Cayrol!” + </p> + <p> + Serge, full of surprise, and seized by a sudden fit of jealousy, went + toward her as if to recall her. + </p> + <p> + “Jeanne,” said he, vaguely holding out his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Well! what is it?” she asked, with crushing haughtiness. “Are you + frightened at having gained your cause so quickly?” + </p> + <p> + And as Serge did not speak: + </p> + <p> + “Come,” added she, “you will have a handsome fee; Micheline’s dower will + be worth the trouble you have had.” + </p> + <p> + They heard Cayrol’s hurried steps ascending the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “You have done me the honor to call me, Mademoiselle,” said he, remaining + on the threshold of the drawing-room. “Am I fortunate enough at length to + have found favor in your eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “Here is my hand,” said Mademoiselle de Cernay, simply tendering him her + white taper fingers, which he covered with kisses. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes had come in behind the banker. She uttered a joyous + exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol, you shall not marry Jeanne for her beauty alone. I will give her + a dower.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline fell on her companion’s neck. It was a concert of + congratulations. But Jeanne, with a serious air, led Cayrol aside: + </p> + <p> + “I wish to act honestly toward you, sir; I yield to the pleading of which + I am the object. But you must know that my sentiments do not change so + quickly. It is my hand only which I give you today.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not the conceitedness to think that you love me, Mademoiselle,” + said Cayrol, humbly. “You give me your hand; it will be for me to gain + your heart, and with time and sincere affection I do not despair of + winning it. I am truly happy, believe me, for the favor you do me, and all + my life long shall be spent in proving my gratitude to you.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne was moved; she glanced at Cayrol, and did not think him so + common-looking as usual. She resolved to do all in her power to like this + good man. + </p> + <p> + Serge, in taking leave of Madame Desvarennes, said: + </p> + <p> + “In exchange for all the happiness which you give me, I have only my life + to offer; accept it, Madame, it is yours.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress looked at the Prince deeply; then, in a singular tone, said: + </p> + <p> + “I accept it; from to-day you belong to me.” + </p> + <p> + Marechal took Pierre by the arm and led him outside. + </p> + <p> + “The Prince has just uttered words which remind me of Antonio saying to + the Jew in ‘The Merchant of Venice’: ‘Thy ducats in exchange for a pound + of my flesh.’ Madame Desvarennes loves her daughter with a more formidable + love than Shylock had for his gold. The Prince will do well to be exact in + his payments of the happiness which he has promised.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. A PLEASANT UNDERSTANDING + </h2> + <p> + The day following this memorable evening, Pierre left for Algeria, + notwithstanding the prayers of Madame Desvarennes who wished to keep him + near her. He was going to finish his labors. He promised to return in time + for the wedding. The mistress, wishing to give him some compensation, + offered him the management of the mills at Jouy, saying: + </p> + <p> + “So that if you are not my son, you will be at least my partner. And if I + do not leave you all my money at my death, I can enrich you during my + life.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre would not accept. He would not have it said that in wishing to + marry Micheline he had tried to make a speculation. He wished to leave + that house where he had hoped to spend his life, empty-handed, so that no + one could doubt that it was the woman he loved in Micheline and not the + heiress. He had been offered a splendid appointment in Savoy as manager of + some mines; he would find there at the same time profit and happiness, + because there were interesting scientific studies to be made in order to + enable him to carry on the work creditably. He resolved to throw himself + heart and soul into the work and seek forgetfulness in study. + </p> + <p> + In the mansion of the Rue Saint-Dominique the marriage preparations were + carried on with great despatch. On the one side the Prince, and on the + other Cayrol, were eager for the day: the one because he saw the + realization of his ambitious dreams, the other because he loved so madly. + Serge, gracious and attentive, allowed himself to be adored by Micheline, + who was never weary of listening to and looking at him whom she loved. It + was a sort of delirium that had taken possession of the young girl. Madame + Desvarennes looked on the metamorphosis in her child with amazement. The + old Micheline, naturally indolent and cold, just living with the indolence + of an odalisque stretched on silk cushions, had changed into a lively, + loving sweetheart, with sparkling eyes and cheerful lips. Like those + lowers which the sun causes to bloom and be fragrant, so Micheline under a + look from Serge became animated and grown handsomer. + </p> + <p> + The mother looked on with bitterness; she spoke of this transformation in + her child with ironical disdain, She was sure Micheline was not in + earnest; only a doll was capable of falling in love so foolishly with a + man for his personal beauty. For to her mind the Prince was as regards + mental power painfully deficient. No sense, dumb as soon as the + conversation took a serious turn, only able to talk dress like a woman, or + about horses like a jockey. And it was such a person upon whom Micheline + literally doted! The mistress felt humiliated; she dared not say anything + to her daughter, but she relieved herself in company of Marechal, whose + discretion she could trust, and whom she willingly called the tomb of her + secrets. + </p> + <p> + Marechal listened patiently to the confidences of Madame Desvarennes, and + he tried to fight against the growing animosity of the mistress toward her + future son-in-law. Not that he liked the Prince—he was too much on + Pierre’s side to be well disposed toward Panine; but with his good sense + he saw that Madame Desvarennes would find it advantageous to overcome her + feeling of dislike. And when the mistress, so formidable toward everybody + except her daughter, cried with rage: + </p> + <p> + “That Micheline! I have just seen her again in the garden, hanging on the + arm of that great lanky fellow, her eyes fixed on his like a lark + fascinated by a looking-glass. What on earth has happened to her that she + should be in such a state?” + </p> + <p> + Marechal interrupted her gently. + </p> + <p> + “All fair people are like that,” he affirmed with ironical gayety. “You + cannot understand it, Madame; you are dark.” + </p> + <p> + Then Madame Desvarennes became angry. + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet,” she said, “you are stupid! She ought to have a shower-bath! + She is mad!” + </p> + <p> + As for Cayrol he lived in ecstasy, like an Italian kneeling before a + madonna. He had never been so happy; he was overwhelmed with joy. Until + then, he had only thought of business matters. To be rich was the aim of + his life; and now he was going to work for happiness. It was all pleasure + for him. He was not blase; he amused himself like a child, adorning the + rooms which were to be occupied by Jeanne. To his mind nothing was too + expensive for the temple of his goddess, as he said, with a loud laugh + which lighted up his whole face. And when he spoke of his love’s future + nest, he exclaimed, with a voluptuous shiver: + </p> + <p> + “It is charming; a veritable little paradise!” Then the financier shone + through all, and he added: + </p> + <p> + “And I know what it costs!” + </p> + <p> + But he did not grudge his money. He knew he would get the interest of it + back. On one subject he was anxious—Mademoiselle de Cernay’s health. + Since the day of their engagement, Jeanne had become more serious and + dull. She had grown thin and her eyes were sunken as if she wept in + secret. When he spoke of his fears to Madame Desvarennes, the latter said: + </p> + <p> + “These young girls are so senseless. The notion of marriage puts them in + such an incomprehensible state! Look at my daughter. She chatters like a + magpie and skips about like a kid. She has two glow-worms under her + eyelids! As to Jeanne, that’s another affair; she has the matrimonial + melancholy, and has the air of a young victim. Leave them alone; it will + all come right. But you must admit that the gayety of the one is at least + as irritating as the languor of the other!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, somewhat reassured by this explanation, and thinking, like her, + that it was the uncertainties of marriage which were troubling Jeanne, no + longer attached any importance to her sad appearance. Micheline and Serge + isolated themselves completely. They fled to the garden as soon as any one + ventured into the drawing room, to interrupt their tete-a-tete. If + visitors came to the garden they took refuge in the conservatory. + </p> + <p> + This manoeuvre pleased Serge, because he always felt uncomfortable in + Jeanne’s presence. Mademoiselle de Cernay had a peculiar wrinkle on her + brow whenever she saw Micheline passing before her hanging on the arm of + the Prince, which tormented him. They were obliged to meet at table in the + evening, for Serge and Cayrol dined at the Rue Saint-Dominique. The Prince + talked in whispers to Micheline, but every now and then he was obliged to + speak to Jeanne. These were painful moments to Serge. He was always in + dread of some outburst, knowing her ardent and passionate nature. Thus, + before Jeanne, he made Micheline behave in a less demonstrative manner. + Mademoiselle Desvarennes was proud of this reserve, and thought it was + tact and good breeding on the part of the Prince, without doubting that + what she thought reserve in the man of the world was the prudence of an + anxious lover. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne endured the tortures of Hades. Too proud to say anything after the + explanation she had had with Serge, too much smitten to bear calmly the + sight of her rival’s happiness, she saw draw near with deep horror the + moment when she would belong to the man whom she had determined to marry + although she did not love him. She once thought of breaking off the + engagement; as she could not belong to the man whom she adored, at least + she could belong to herself. But the thought of the struggle she would + have to sustain with those who surrounded her, stopped her. What would she + do at Madame Desvarennes’s? She would have to witness the happiness of + Micheline and Serge. She would rather leave the house. + </p> + <p> + With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps the + esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead of + love. Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would satisfy + the poor man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne. And she + would not have that group of Serge and Micheline before her eyes, always + walking round the lawn and disappearing arm in arm down the narrow walks. + She would not have the continual murmur of their love-making in her ears, + a murmur broken by the sound of kisses when they reached shady corners. + </p> + <p> + One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue + Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone. She looked serious, as + if same important business were pending. She stood before the fireplace; + her hands crossed behind her back like a man. Apparently, she had sought + to be alone. Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in the garden. Serge felt + uneasy. He had a presentiment of trouble. But determined to make the best + of it, whatever it might be, he looked pleasant and bowed to Madame + Desvarennes, without his face betraying his uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, Prince; you are early this evening, though not so early as + Cayrol; but then he does not quite know what he is doing now. Sit down, I + want to talk to you. You know that a young lady like Mademoiselle + Desvarennes cannot get married without her engagement being much talked + about. Tongues have been very busy, and pens too. I have heard a lot of + scandal and have received heaps of anonymous letters about you.” + </p> + <p> + Serge gave a start of indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be uneasy,” continued the mistress. “I did not heed the tales, and + I burned the letters. Some said you were a dissolute man, capable of + anything to gain your object. Others insinuated that you were not a + Prince, that you were not a Pole, but the son of a Russian coachman and a + little dressmaker of Les Ternes; that you had lived at the expense of + Mademoiselle Anna Monplaisir, the star of the Varietes Theatre, and that + you were bent on marrying to pay your debts with my daughter’s money.” + </p> + <p> + Panine, pale as death, rose up and said, in a stifled voice: + </p> + <p> + “Madame!” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, my dear child,” interrupted the mistress. “If I tell you these + things, it is because I have the proofs that they are untrue. Otherwise, I + would not have given myself the trouble to talk to you about them. I would + have shown you the door and there would have been an end of it. Certainly, + you are not an angel; but the peccadillos which you have been guilty of + are those which one forgives in a son, and which in a son-in-law makes + some mothers smile. You are a Prince, you are handsome, and you have been + loved. You were then a bachelor; and it was your own affair. But now, you + are going to be, in about ten days, the husband of my daughter, and it is + necessary for us to make certain arrangements. Therefore, I waited to see + you, to speak of your wife, of yourself, and of me.” + </p> + <p> + What Madame Desvarennes had just said relieved Serge of a great weight. He + felt so happy that he resolved to do everything in his power to please the + mother of his betrothed. + </p> + <p> + “Speak, Madame,” he exclaimed. “I am listening to you with attention and + confidence. I am sure that from you I can only expect goodness and sense.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know you have a gilt tongue, my handsome friend, but I don’t pay + myself with words, and I, am not easy to be wheedled.” + </p> + <p> + “Faith,” said Serge, “I won’t deceive you. I will try to please you with + all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes’s face brightened as suddenly at these words as a + landscape, wrapped in a fog, which is suddenly lighted up by the sun. + </p> + <p> + “Then we shall understand each other,” she said. “For the last fortnight + we have been busy with marriage preparations, and have not been able to + think or reason. Everybody is rambling about here. Still, we are + commencing a new life, and I think it is as well to lay the foundation. I + seem to be drawing up a contract, eh? What can I do? It is an old business + habit. I like to know how I stand.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it is quite right. I think, too, that you have acted with great + delicacy in not imposing your conditions upon me before giving your + consent.” + </p> + <p> + “Has that made you feel better disposed toward me? So much the better!” + said the mistress. “Because you know that I depend on my daughter, who + will henceforth depend on you, and it is to my interest that I should be + in your good graces.” + </p> + <p> + In pronouncing these words with forced cheerfulness, Madame Desvarennes’s + voice trembled slightly. She knew what an important game she was playing, + and wished to win it at any price. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” continued she, “I am not an easy woman to deal with. I am a + little despotic, I know. I have been in the habit of commanding during the + last thirty-five years. Business was heavy, and required a strong will. I + had it, and the habit is formed. But this strong will, which has served me + so well in business will, I am afraid, with you, play me some trick. Those + who have lived with me a long time know that if I am hot-headed I have a + good heart. They submit to my tyranny; but you who are a newcomer, how + will you like it?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do as the others do,” said Serge, simply. “I shall be led, and + with pleasure. Think that I have lived for years without kindred, without + ties—at random; and, believe me, any chain will be light and sweet + which holds me to any one or anything. And then,” frankly added he, + changing his tone and looking at Madame Desvarennes with tenderness, “if I + did not do everything to please you I should be ungrateful.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Madame Desvarennes, “unfortunately that is not a reason.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you have a better one?” said the young man, in his most charming + accent. “If I had not married your daughter for her own sake, I believe + that I should have married her for yours.” Madame Desvarennes was quite + pleased, and shaking her finger threateningly at Serge, said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you Pole, you boaster of the North!” + </p> + <p> + “Seriously,” continued Serge, “before I knew I was to be your son-in-law, + I thought you a matchless woman. Add to the admiration I had for your + great qualities the affection which your goodness has inspired, and you + will understand that I am both proud and happy to have such a mother as + you.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes looked at Panine attentively; she saw he was sincere. + Then, taking courage, she touched the topic of greatest interest to her. + “If that is the case, you will have no objections to live with me?” She + stopped; then emphasized the words, “With me.” + </p> + <p> + “But was not that understood?” asked Serge, gayly’ “I thought so. You must + have seen that I have not been seeking a dwelling for my wife and myself. + If you had not made the offer to me, I should have asked you to let me + stay with you.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes broke into such an outburst of joy that she astonished + Panine. It was then only that in that pallor, in that sudden trembling, in + that changed voice, he understood, the immensity of the mother’s love for + her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I have everything to gain by that arrangement,” continued he. “My wife + will be happy at not leaving you, and you will be pleased at my not having + taken away your daughter. You will both like me better, and that is all I + wish.” + </p> + <p> + “How good you are in deciding thus, and how I thank you for it,” resumed + Madame Desvarennes. “I feared you would have ideas of independence.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have been happy to sacrifice them to you, but I have not even + that merit.” + </p> + <p> + All that Serge had said had been so open and plain, and expressed with + such sweetness that, little by little, Madame Desvarennes’s prejudices + disappeared. He took possession of her as he had done of Micheline, and as + he did of every one whom he wished to conquer. His charm was irresistible. + He seized on one by the eyes and the ears. Naturally fascinating, moving, + captivating, bold, he always preserved his artless and tender ways, which + made him resemble a young girl. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to tell you how we shall manage,” said the mistress. + “Foreseeing my daughter’s marriage, I have had my house divided into two + distinct establishments. They say that life in common with a mother-in-law + is objectionable to a son-in-law, therefore I wish you to have a home of + your own. I know that an old face like mine frightens young lovers. I will + come to you when you invite me. But even when I am shut up in my own + apartments I shall be with my daughter; I shall breathe the same air; I + shall hear her going and coming, singing, laughing, and I shall say to + myself, ‘It is all right, she is happy.’ That is all I ask. A little + corner, whence I can share her life.” + </p> + <p> + Serge took her hand with effusion. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be afraid; your daughter will not leave you.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, unable to contain her feelings, opened her arms, and + Serge fell on her breast, like a true son. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, I am going to adore you!” cried Madame Desvarennes, showing + Panine a face beaming with happiness. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” said the young man, gayly. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes became thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + “What a strange thing life is!” resumed she. “I did not want you for a + son-in-law, and now you are behaving so well toward me that I am full of + remorse. Oh, I see now what a dangerous man you are, if you captivate + other women’s hearts as you have caught mine.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at the Prince fixedly, and added, in her clear commanding + voice, with a shade of gayety: + </p> + <p> + “Now, I hope you will reserve all your powers of charming for my daughter. + No more flirting, eh? She loves you; she would be jealous, and you would + get into hot water with me! Let Micheline’s life be happy, without a + cloud-blue, always blue sky!” + </p> + <p> + “That will be easy,” said Serge. “To be unhappy I should have to seek + misfortune; and I certainly shall not do that.” + </p> + <p> + He began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, your good friends who criticised so when you gave me Micheline’s + hand would be only too pleased. I will not give them the pleasure of + posing as prophets and saying, ‘We knew it would be so!’” + </p> + <p> + “You must forgive them,” replied Madame Desvarennes. “You have made + enemies. Without speaking of projects which I had formed, I may say that + my daughter has had offers from the best folks in Paris; from first-rate + firms! Our circle was rather indignant. + </p> + <p> + “People said: ‘Oh, Madame Desvarennes wanted her daughter to be a + Princess. We shall see how it will turn out. Her son-in-law will spend her + money and spurn her.’ The gossip of disappointed people. Give them the + lie; manage that we shall all live together, and we shall be right against + the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hope it will be so?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it,” answered the mistress, affectionately pressing the hand + of her future son-in-law. + </p> + <p> + Micheline entered, anxious at the long interview between Serge and her + mother. She saw them hand in hand. She uttered a joyful cry, and threw her + arms caressingly round her mother’s neck. + </p> + <p> + “Well! you are agreed?” she said, making a gracious sign to Serge. + </p> + <p> + “He has been charming,” replied Madame Desvarennes, whispering in her + daughter’s ear. “He agrees to live in this house, and that quite + gracefully. There, child, this is the happiest moment I’ve had since your + engagement. I admit that I regret nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Then, resuming aloud: + </p> + <p> + “We will leave to-morrow for Cernay, where the marriage shall take place. + I shall have to order the workmen in here to get ready for your reception. + Besides the wedding will be more brilliant in the country. We shall have + all the work-people there. We will throw the park open to the countryside; + it will be a grand fete. For we are lords of the manor there,” added she, + with pride. + </p> + <p> + “You are right, mamma; it will be far better,” exclaimed Micheline. And + taking Serge by the hand: + </p> + <p> + “Come, let us go,” said she, and led him into the garden. + </p> + <p> + And amid the sweet-smelling shrubs they resumed their walk, always the + same yet ever new, their arms twined round each other, the young girl + clinging to him whom she loved, and he looking fondly at her, and with + caressing voice telling her the oft-told tale of love which she was never + tired of hearing, and which always filled her with thrills of joy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE DOUBLE MARRIAGE + </h2> + <p> + The Chateau of Cernay is a vast and beautiful structure of the time of + Louis XIII. A walled park of a hundred acres surrounds it, with trees + centuries old. A white painted gate separates the avenue from the road + leading to Pontoise by way of Conflans. A carpet of grass, on which + carriages roll as if on velvet, leads up to the park gates. Before + reaching, it there is a stone bridge which spans the moat of running + water. A lodge of stone, faced with brick, with large windows, rises at + each corner of this space. + </p> + <p> + The chateau, surrounded by cleverly arranged trees, stands in the centre, + on a solid foundation of red granite from the Jura. A splendid double + staircase leads to the ground floor as high as an ‘entresol’. A spacious + hall, rising to the roof of the building, lighted by a window filled with + old stained glass, first offers itself to the visitor. A large organ, by + Cavallie-Col, rears its long brilliant pipes at one end of the hall to a + level with the gallery of sculptured wood running round and forming a + balcony on the first floor. At each corner is a knight in armor, helmet on + head, and lance in hand, mounted on a charger, and covered with the heavy + trappings of war. Cases full of objects of art of great value, bookshelves + containing all the new books, are placed along the walls. A billiard-table + and all sorts of games are lodged under the vast staircase. The broad bays + which give admission to the reception-rooms and grand staircase are closed + by tapestry of the fifteenth century, representing hunting scenes. Long + cords of silk and gold loop back these marvellous hangings in the Italian + style. Thick carpets, into which the feet sink, deaden the sound of + footsteps. Spacious divans, covered with Oriental materials, are placed + round the room. + </p> + <p> + Over the chimney-piece, which is splendidly carved in woodwork, is a + looking-glass in the Renaissance style, with a bronze and silver frame, + representing grinning fawns and dishevelled nymphs. Benches are placed + round the hearth, which is large enough to hold six people. Above the + divans, on the walls, are large oil-paintings by old masters. An + “Assumption,” by Jordaens, which is a masterpiece; “The Gamesters,” by + Valentin; “A Spanish Family on Horseback,” painted by Velasquez; and the + marvel of the collection—a “Holy Family,” by Francia, bought in + Russia. Then, lower down, “A Young Girl with a Canary,” by Metzu; a + “Kermesse,” by Braurver, a perfect treasure, glitter, like the gems they + are, in the midst of panoplies, between the high branches of palm-trees + planted in enormous delft vases. A mysterious light filters into that + fresh and picturesque apartment through the stained-glass windows. + </p> + <p> + From the hall the left wing is reached, where the reception-rooms are, and + one’s eyes are dazzled by the brightness which reigns there. It is like + coming out from a cathedral into broad daylight. The furniture, of gilt + wood and Genoese velvet, looks very bright. The walls are white and gold; + and flowers are everywhere. At the end is Madame Desvarennes’s bedroom, + because she does not like mounting stairs, and lives on the ground floor. + Adjoining it is a conservatory, furnished as a drawing-room, and serving + as a boudoir for the mistress of the house. + </p> + <p> + The dining-room, the gun-room, and the smoking-room are in the right wing. + The gun-room deserves a particular description. Four glass cases contain + guns of every description and size of the best English and French + manufacture. All the furniture is made of stags’ horns, covered with + fox-skins and wolf-skins. A large rug, formed by four bears’ skins, with + menacing snouts, showing their white teeth at the four corners, is in the + centre of the room. On the walls are four paintings by Princeteau, + admirably executed, and representing hunting scenes. Low couches, wide as + beds, covered with gray cloth, invite the sportsmen to rest. Large + dressing-rooms, fitted up with hot and cold water, invite them to refresh + themselves with a bath. Everything has been done to suit the most + fastidious taste. The kitchens are underground. + </p> + <p> + On the first story are the principal rooms. Twelve bedrooms, with + dressing-rooms, upholstered in chintz of charming design. From these, a + splendid view of the park and country beyond may be obtained. In the + foreground is a piece of water, bathing, with its rapid current, the + grassy banks which border the wood, while the low-lying branches of the + trees dip into the flood, on which swans, dazzlingly white, swim in + stately fashion. Beneath an old willow, whose drooping boughs form quite a + vault of pale verdure, a squadron of multicolored boats remain fastened to + the balustrade of a landing stage. Through an opening in the trees you see + in the distance fields of yellow corn, and in the near background, behind + a row of poplars, ever moving like a flash of silver lightning, the Oise + flows on between its low banks. + </p> + <p> + This sumptuous dwelling, on the evening of the 14th of July, was in its + greatest splendor. The trees of the park were lit up by brilliant Venetian + lanterns; little boats glided on the water of the lake carrying musicians + whose notes echoed through the air. Under a marquee, placed midway in the + large avenue, the country lads and lasses were dancing with spirit, while + the old people, more calm, were seated under the large trees enjoying the + ample fare provided. A tremendous uproar of gayety reechoed through the + night, and the sound of the cornet attracted the people to the ball. + </p> + <p> + It was nine o’clock. Carriages were fast arriving with guests for the + mansion. In the centre of the handsome hall, illuminated with electric + light, stood Madame Desvarennes in full dress, having put off black for + one day, doing honor to the arrivals. Behind her stood Marechal and + Savinien, like two aides-de-camp, ready, at a sign, to offer their arms to + the ladies, to conduct them to the drawing-rooms. The gathering was + numerous. Merchant-princes came for Madame Desvarennes’s sake; bankers for + Cayrol’s; and the aristocrats and foreign nobility for the Prince’s. An + assemblage as opposed in ideas as in manners: some valuing only money, + others high birth; all proud and elbowing each other with haughty + assurance, speaking ill of each other and secretly jealous. + </p> + <p> + There were heirs of dethroned kings; princes without portions, who were + called Highness, and who had not the income of their fathers’ former + chamberlains; millionaires sprung from nothing, who made a great show and + who would have given half of their possessions for a single quartering of + the arms of these great lords whom they affected to despise. + </p> + <p> + Serge and Cayrol went from group to group; the one with his graceful and + delicate elegance; the other with his good-humor, radiant and elated by + the consciousness of his triumphs. Herzog had just arrived, accompanied by + his daughter, a charming girl of sixteen, to whom Marechal had offered his + arm. A whispering was heard when Herzog passed. He was accustomed to the + effect which he produced in public, and quite calmly congratulated Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + Serge had just introduced Micheline to Count Soutzko, a gray-haired old + gentleman of military appearance, whose right sleeve was empty. He was a + veteran of the Polish wars, and an old friend of Prince Panine’s, at whose + side he had received the wounds which had so frightfully mutilated him. + Micheline, smiling, was listening to flattering tales which the old + soldier was relating about Serge. Cayrol, who had got rid of Herzog, was + looking for Jeanne, who had just disappeared in the direction of the + terrace. + </p> + <p> + The rooms were uncomfortably warm, and many of the visitors had found + their way to the terraces. Along the marble veranda, overlooking the lake, + chairs had been placed. The ladies, wrapped in their lace scarfs, had + formed into groups and were enjoying the delights of the beautiful + evening. Bursts of subdued laughter came from behind fans, while the + gentlemen talked in whispers. Above all this whispering was heard the + distant sound of the cornet at the peasants’ ball. + </p> + <p> + Leaning over the balustrade, in a shady corner, far from the noise which + troubled him and far from the fete which hurt him, Pierre was dreaming. + His eyes were fixed on the illuminations in the park, but he did not see + them. He thought of his vanished hopes. Another was beloved by Micheline, + and in a few hours he would take her away, triumphant and happy. A great + sadness stole over the young man’s spirit; he was disgusted with life and + hated humanity. What was to become of him now? His life was shattered; a + heart like his could not love twice, and Micheline’s image was too deeply + engraven on it for it ever to be effaced. Of what use was all the trouble + he had taken to raise himself above others? A worthless fellow had passed + that way and Micheline had yielded to him. Now it was all over! + </p> + <p> + And Pierre asked himself if he had not taken a wrong view of things, and + if it was not the idle and good-for-nothing fellows who were more prudent + than he. To waste his life in superhuman works, to tire his mind in + seeking to solve great problems, and to attain old age without other + satisfaction than unproductive honors and mercenary rewards. Those who + only sought happiness and joy—epicureans who drive away all care, + all pain, and only seek to soften their existence, and brighten their + horizon—were they not true sages? Death comes so quickly! And it is + with astonishment that one perceives when the hour is at hand, that one + has not lived! Then the voice of pride spoke to him: what is a man who + remains useless, and does not leave one trace of his passage through the + world by works or discoveries? And, in a state of fever, Pierre said to + himself: + </p> + <p> + “I will throw myself heart and soul into science; I will make my name + famous, and I will make that ungrateful child regret me. She will see the + difference between me and him whom she has chosen. She will understand + that he is nobody, except by her money, whereas she would have been all by + me.” + </p> + <p> + A hand was placed on his shoulder; and Marechal’s affectionate voice said + to him: + </p> + <p> + “Well! what are you doing here, gesticulating like that?” + </p> + <p> + Pierre turned round. + </p> + <p> + Lost in his thoughts he had not heard his friend approaching. + </p> + <p> + “All our guests have arrived,” continued Marechal. “I have only just been + able to leave them and to come to you. I have been seeking you for more + than a quarter of an hour. You are wrong to hide yourself; people will + make remarks. Come toward the house; it is as well to show yourself a + little; people might imagine things which they must not imagine.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! let them think what they like; what does it matter to me?” said + Pierre, sadly. “My life is a blank.” + </p> + <p> + “Your life may be a blank; but it is your duty not to let any one perceive + it. Imitate the young Spartan, who smiled although the fox, hidden under + his cloak, was gnawing his vitals. Let us avoid ridicule, my friend. In + society there is nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed + lover, who rolls his eyes about and looks woe-begone. And, then, you-see, + suffering is a human law; the world is an arena, life is a conflict. + Material obstacles, moral griefs, all hinder and overwhelm us. We must go + on, though, all the same, and fight. Those who give in are trodden down! + Come, pull yourself together!” + </p> + <p> + “And for whom should I fight now? A moment ago I was making projects, but + I was a fool! All hope and ambition are dead in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ambition will return, you may be sure! At present you are suffering from + weariness of mind; but your strength will return. As to hope, one must + never despair.” + </p> + <p> + “What can I expect in the future?” + </p> + <p> + “What? Why, everything! In this world all sorts of things happen!” said + Marechal, gayly. “Who is to prove that the Princess will not be a widow + soon?” + </p> + <p> + Pierre could not help laughing and said, + </p> + <p> + “Come, don’t talk such nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” concluded Marechal, “in life it is only nonsense that is + common-sense. Come and smoke a cigar.” + </p> + <p> + They traversed several groups of people and bent their steps in the + direction of the chateau. The Prince was advancing toward the terrace, + with an elegantly dressed and beautiful woman on his arm. Savinien, in the + midst of a circle of dandies, was picking the passers-by to pieces in his + easy-going way. Pierre and Marechal came behind these young men without + being noticed. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that hanging on the arm of our dear Prince?” asked a little fat + man, girt in a white satin waistcoat, and a spray of white lilac in his + buttonhole. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! Why, Le Brede, my boy, you don’t know anything!” cried Savinien in a + bantering, jocose tone. + </p> + <p> + “Because I don’t know that lovely fair woman?” said Le Brede, in a piqued + voice. “I don’t profess to know the names of all the pretty women in + Paris!” + </p> + <p> + “In Paris? That woman from Paris? You have not looked at her. Come, open + your eyes. Pure English style, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + The dandies roared with laughter. They had at once recognized the pure + English style. They were not men to be deceived. One of them, a tall, dark + fellow, named Du Tremblays, affected an aggrieved air, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Le Brede, my dear fellow, you make us blush for you!” + </p> + <p> + The Prince passed, smiling and speaking in a low voice to the beautiful + Englishwoman, who was resting the tips of her white gloved fingers on her + cavalier’s arm. + </p> + <p> + “Who is she?” inquired Le Brede, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, my dear fellow, it is Lady Harton, a cousin of the Prince. She is + extremely rich, and owns a district in London.” + </p> + <p> + “They say that a year ago she was very kind to Serge Panine,” added Du + Tremblays, confidentially. + </p> + <p> + “Why did he not marry her, then, since she is so rich? He has been quite a + year in the market, the dear Prince.” + </p> + <p> + “She is married.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is a good reason. But where is her husband?” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up in a castle in Scotland. Nobody ever sees him. He is out of his + mind; and is surrounded by every attention.” + </p> + <p> + “And a strait-waistcoat! Then why does not this pretty woman get a + divorce?” + </p> + <p> + “The money belongs to the husband.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” + </p> + <p> + Pierre and Marechal had listened, in silence, to this cool and yet + terrible conversation. The group of young men dispersed. The two friends + looked at each other. Thus, then, Serge Panine was judged by his + companions in pleasure, by the frequenters of the clubs in which he had + spent a part of his existence. The Prince being “in the market” was + obliged to marry a rich woman. He could not marry Lady Harton, so he had + sought Micheline. And the sweet child was the wife of such a man! And what + could be done? She loved him! + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes and Micheline appeared on the terrace. Lady Harton + pointed to the bride with her fan. The Prince, leaving his companion, + advanced toward Micheline. + </p> + <p> + “One of my English relatives, a Polish lady, married to Lord Harton, + wishes to be introduced to you,” said Serge. “Are you agreeable?” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” replied the young wife, looking lovingly at her + husband. “All who belong to you are dear to me, you know.” + </p> + <p> + The beautiful Englishwoman approached slowly. + </p> + <p> + “The Princess Panine!” said Serge, gravely, introducing Micheline, who + bowed gracefully. Then, with a shade of familiarity: “Lady Harton!” + continued he, introducing his relative. + </p> + <p> + “I am very fond of your husband, Madame,” said the Englishwoman. “I hope + you will allow me to love you also; and I beg you to grant me the favor of + accepting this small remembrance.” + </p> + <p> + While speaking, she unfastened from her wrist a splendid bracelet with the + inscription, Semper. + </p> + <p> + Serge frowned and looked stern. Micheline, lowering her eyes, and awed by + the Englishwoman’s grandeur, timidly said: + </p> + <p> + “I accept it, Madame, as a token of friendship.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I recognize this bracelet, Madame,” observed Serge. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; you gave it to me,” replied Lady Harton, quietly. “Semper—I + beg your pardon, Madame, we Poles all speak Latin—Semper means + ‘Always!’ It is a great word. On your wife’s arm this bracelet will be + well placed. Au revoir, dear Prince. I wish you every happiness.” + </p> + <p> + And bowing to Micheline with a regal bow, Lady Harton took the arm of a + tall young man whom she had beckoned, and walked away. + </p> + <p> + Micheline, amazed, looked at the bracelet sparkling on her white wrist. + Without uttering a word Serge unfastened it, took it off his wife’s arm, + and advancing on the terrace, with a rapid movement flung it in the water. + The bracelet gleamed in the night-air and made a brilliant splash; then + the water resumed its tranquillity. Micheline, astonished, looked at + Serge, who came toward her, and very humbly said: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + The young wife did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears; a smile + brightened her lips, and hurriedly taking his arm, she led him into the + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Dancing was going on there. The young ladies of Pontoise, and the cream of + Creil, had come to the fete, bent on not losing such an opportunity of + enjoying themselves. Under the watchful eyes of their mothers, who, decked + out in grand array, were seated along the walls, they were gamboling, in + spite of the stifling heat, with all the impetuosity of young provincials + habitually deprived of the pleasures of the ballroom. Crossing the room, + Micheline and Serge reached Madame Desvarennes’s boudoir. + </p> + <p> + It was delightfully cool in there. Cayrol had taken refuge there with + Jeanne, and Mademoiselle Susanne Herzog. This young girl felt + uncomfortable at being a third party with the newly-married couple, and + welcomed the arrival of the Prince and Micheline with pleasure. Her father + had left her for a moment in Cayrol’s care; but she had not seen him for + more than an hour. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” said the Prince, gayly, “a little while ago, when I was + passing through the rooms, I heard these words: ‘Loan, discount, + liquidation.’ Your father must have been there. Shall I go and seek him?” + </p> + <p> + “I should be very grateful,” said the young girl. + </p> + <p> + “I will go.” + </p> + <p> + And turning lightly on his heels, happy to escape Jeanne’s looks, Serge + reentered the furnace. At once he saw Herzog seated in the corner of a + bay-window with one of the principal stock-brokers of Paris. He was + speaking. The Prince went straight up to him. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry to draw you away from the sweets of conversation,” said he, + smiling; “but your daughter is waiting for you, and is anxious at your not + coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Faith! My daughter, yes. I will come and see you tomorrow,” said he to + his companion. “We will talk over this association: there is much to be + gained by it.” + </p> + <p> + The other, a man with a bloated face, and fair Dundreary whiskers, was + eager to do business with him. Certainly the affair was good. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear Prince, I am happy to be alone with you for a moment!” said + Herzog, with that familiarity which was one of his means of becoming + intimate with people. “I was going to compliment you! What a splendid + position you have reached.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I have married a charming woman,” replied the Prince, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “And what a fortune!” insisted the financier. “Ah, it is worthy of the lot + of a great lord such as you are! Oh, you are like those masterpieces of + art which need a splendidly carved frame! Well, you have your frame, and + well gilt too!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed and seemed pleased at Serge’s happiness. He had taken one of + his hands and was patting it softly between his own. + </p> + <p> + “Not a very ‘convenient’ mother-in-law, for instance,” he went on, + good-naturedly; “but you are so charming! Only you could have, coaxed + Madame Desvarennes, and you have succeeded. Oh! she likes you, my dear + Prince; she told me so only a little while ago. You have won her heart. I + don’t know how you manage it, but you are irresistible! By the way, I was + not there when the marriage contract was read, and I, forgot to ask + Cayrol. Under what conditions are you married?” + </p> + <p> + The Prince looked at Herzog with a look that was hardly friendly. But the + financier appeared so indifferent, that Serge could not help answering + him: + </p> + <p> + “My wife’s fortune is settled on herself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah! that is usual in Normandy!” replied Herzog with a grave look. “I + was told Madame Desvarennes was a clever woman and she has proved it. And + you signed the contract with your eyes shut, my dear Prince. It is + perfect, just as a gentleman should do!” + </p> + <p> + He said this with a good-natured air. Then, suddenly lifting his eyes, and + with an ironical smile playing on his lips, he added: + </p> + <p> + “You are bowled out, my dear fellow, don’t you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” protested Serge with haughtiness. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t cry out; it is too late, and would be useless,” replied the + financier. “Let me explain your position to you. Your hands are tied. You + cannot dispose of a sou belonging to your wife without her consent. It is + true, you have influence over her, happily for you. Still you must foresee + that she will be guided by her mother. A strong woman, too, the mother! + Ah, Prince, you have allowed yourself to be done completely. I would not + have thought it of you.” + </p> + <p> + Serge, nonplussed for a moment, regained his self-possession, and looked + Herzog in the face: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what idea you have formed of me, sir, and I don’t know what + object you have in speaking thus to me.” + </p> + <p> + “My interest in you,” interrupted the financier. “You are a charming + fellow: you please me much. With your tastes, it is possible that in a + brief time you may be short of money. Come and see me: I will put you into + the way of business. Au revoir, Prince.” + </p> + <p> + And without giving Serge time to answer him, Herzog reached the boudoir + where his daughter was waiting with impatience. Behind him came the Prince + looking rather troubled. The financier’s words had awakened importunate + ideas in his mind. Was it true that he had been duped by Madame + Desvarennes, and that the latter, while affecting airs of greatness and + generosity, had tied him like a noodle to her daughter’s apron-string? He + made an effort to regain his serenity. + </p> + <p> + “Micheline loves me and all will be well,” said he to himself. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes joined the young married people. The rooms were + clearing by degrees. Serge took Cayrol apart. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do to-night, my dear fellow? + </p> + <p> + “You know an apartment has been prepared for you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have already thanked Madame Desvarennes, but I mean to go back to + Paris. Our little paradise is prepared for us, and I wish to enter it + to-night. I have my carriage and horses here. I am taking away my wife + post-haste.” + </p> + <p> + “That is an elopement,” said Serge; gayly, “quite in the style of the + regency!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear Prince, that’s how we bankers do it,” said Cayrol, laughing. + </p> + <p> + Then changing his tone: + </p> + <p> + “See, I vibrate, I am palpitating. I am hot and cold by turns. Just fancy, + I have never loved before; my heart is whole, and I love to distraction!” + </p> + <p> + Serge instinctively glanced at Jeanne. She was seated, looking sad and + tired. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, between Jeanne and Micheline, had her arms twined + round the two young girls. Regret filled her eyes. The mother felt that + the last moments of her absolute reign were near, and she was + contemplating with supreme adoration these two children who had grown up + around her like two fragile and precious flowers. She was saying to them, + </p> + <p> + “Well, the great day is over. You are both married. You don’t belong to me + any longer. How I shall miss you! This morning I had two children, and now—” + </p> + <p> + “You have four,” interrupted Micheline. “Why do you complain?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t complain,” retorted Madame Desvarennes, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “That’s right!” said Micheline, gayly. + </p> + <p> + Then going toward Jeanne: + </p> + <p> + “But you are not speaking, you are so quiet; are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne shuddered, and made an effort to soften the hard lines on her face. + </p> + <p> + “It is nothing. A little fatigue.” + </p> + <p> + “And emotion,” added Micheline. “This morning when we entered the church, + at the sound of the organ, in the midst of flowers, surrounded by all our + friends, I felt that I was whiter than my veil. And the crossing to my + place seemed so long, I thought I should never get there. I did so, + though. And now everybody calls me ‘Madame’ and some call me ‘Princess.’ + It amuses me!” + </p> + <p> + Serge had approached. + </p> + <p> + “But you are a Princess,” said he, smiling, “and everybody must call you + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not mamma, nor Jeanne, nor you,” said the young wife, quickly; + “always call me Micheline. It will be less respectful, but it will be more + tender.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes could not resist drawing her daughter once more to her + heart. + </p> + <p> + “Dear child,” she said with emotion, “you need affection, as flowers need + the sun! But I love you, there.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped and added: + </p> + <p> + “We love you.” + </p> + <p> + And she held out her hand to her son-in-law. Then changing the subject: + </p> + <p> + “But I am thinking, Cayrol, as you are returning to Paris, you might take + some orders for me which I will write out.” + </p> + <p> + “What? Business? Even on my wedding-day?” exclaimed Micheline. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! my daughter, we must have flour,” replied the mistress, laughing. + “While we are enjoying ourselves Paris eats, and it has a famous + appetite.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline, leaving her mother, went to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Serge, it is not yet late. Suppose we put in an appearance at the + work-people’s ball? I promised them, and the good folks will be so happy!” + </p> + <p> + “As you please. I am awaiting your orders. Let us make ourselves popular!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes had gone to her room. Carol took the opportunity of + telling his coachman to drive round by the park to the door of the little + conservatory and wait there. Thus, his wife and he would avoid meeting any + one, and would escape the leave-taking of friends and the curiosity of + lookers-on. + </p> + <p> + Micheline went up to Jeanne, and said: + </p> + <p> + “As you are going away quietly, dear, I shall not see you again this + evening. Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + And with a happy smile, she kissed her. Then taking her husband’s arm she + led him toward the park. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. CAYROL’S DISAPPOINTMENT + </h2> + <p> + Jeanne left alone, watched them as they disappeared with the light and + easy movements of lovers. + </p> + <p> + Serge, bending toward Micheline, was speaking tenderly. A rush of bitter + feeling caused Jeanne’s heart to swell. She was alone, she, while he whom + she loved-her whole being revolted. Unhappy one! Why did she think of this + man? Had she the right to do so now? She no longer belonged to herself. + Another, who was as kind to her as Serge was ungrateful, was her husband. + She thought thus in sincerity of heart. She wished to love Cayrol. Alas, + poor Jeanne! She would load him with attentions and caresses! And Serge + would be jealous, for he could never have forgotten her so soon. + </p> + <p> + Her thoughts again turned to him whom she wished to forget. She made an + effort, but in vain. Serge was uppermost; he possessed her. She was + afraid. Would she never be able to break off the remembrance? Would his + name be ever on her lips, his face ever before her eyes? + </p> + <p> + Thank heaven! she was about to leave. Travelling, and the sight of strange + places other than those where she had lived near Serge, would draw her + attention from the persecution she suffered. Her husband was about to take + her away, to defend her. It was his duty, and she would help him with + energy. With all the strength of her will she summoned Cayrol. She clung + violently to him as a drowning person catches at a straw, with the vigor + of despair. + </p> + <p> + There was between Jeanne and Cayrol a sympathetic communication. Mentally + called by his wife, the husband appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! at last!” said she. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, surprised at this welcome, smiled. Jeanne, without noticing, + added: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Monsieur; are we leaving soon?” + </p> + <p> + The banker’s surprise increased. But as this surprise was decidedly an + agreeable one he did not protest. + </p> + <p> + “In a moment, Jeanne, dear,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Why this delay?” asked the young wife, nervously. + </p> + <p> + “You will understand. There are more than twenty carriages before the + front door. Our coachman is driving round, and we will go out by the + conservatory door without being seen.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well; we will wait.” + </p> + <p> + This delay displeased Jeanne. In the ardor of her resolution, in the first + warmth of her struggle, she wished at once to put space between her and + Serge. Unfortunately, Cayrol had thwarted this effort of proud revolt. She + was vexed with him. He, without knowing the motives which actuated his + wife, guessed that something had displeased her. He wished to change the + current of her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “You were marvellously beautiful to-night,” he said, approaching her + gallantly. “You were much admired, and I was proud of you. If you had + heard my friends! It was a concert of congratulations: What a fortunate + fellow that Cayrol is! He is rich; he has a charming wife! You see, + Jeanne, thanks to you, in the eyes of all, my happiness is complete.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne frowned, and without answering, shook her head haughtily. Cayrol + continued, without noticing this forecast of a storm: + </p> + <p> + “They envy me; and I can understand it! I would not change places with + anybody. There, our friend Prince Panine is very happy; he has married a + woman whom he loves and who adores him. Well, he is not happier than I + am!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne rose abruptly, and gave her husband a terrible look. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” she cried with rage. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said Cayrol, humbly; “I appear ridiculous to you, but + my happiness is stronger than I am, and I cannot hide my joy. You will see + that I can be grateful. I will spend my life in trying to please you. I + have a surprise for you to begin with.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of surprise?” asked Jeanne, with indifference. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol rubbed his hands with a mysterious air. He was enjoying beforehand + the pleasant surprise he had in store for his wife. + </p> + <p> + “You think we are going to Paris to spend our honeymoon like ordinary + folk?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne started. Cayrol seemed unfortunate in his choice of words. + </p> + <p> + “Well, not at all,” continued the banker. “Tomorrow I leave my offices. My + customers may say what they like; I will leave my business, and we are + off.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne showed signs of pleasure. A flash of joy lit up her face. To go + away, that was rest for her! + </p> + <p> + “And where shall we go?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the surprise! You know that the Prince and his wife intend + travelling!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but they refused to say where they were going;” interrupted Jeanne, + with a troubled expression. + </p> + <p> + “Not to me. They are going to Switzerland. Well, we shall join them + there.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne arose like a startled deer when it hears the sound of a gun. + </p> + <p> + “Join them there!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; to continue the journey together. A party of four; two newly-married + couples. It will be charming. I spoke to Serge on the subject. He objected + at first, but the Princess came to my assistance. And when he saw that his + wife and I were agreed, he commenced to laugh, and said: ‘You wish it? I + consent. Don’t say anything more!’ It is all very well to talk of love’s + solitude; in about a fortnight, passed tete-a-tete, Serge will be glad to + have us. We will go to Italy to see the lakes; and there, in a boat, all + four, of us will have such pleasant times.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol might have gone on talking for an hour, but Jeanne was not + listening. She was thinking. Thus all the efforts which she had decided to + make to escape from him whom she loved would be useless. An invincible + fatality ever brought her toward him whom she was seeking to avoid. And it + was her husband who was aiding this inevitable and execrable meeting. A + bitter smile played on her lips. There was something mournfully comic in + this stubbornness of Cayrol’s, in throwing her in the way of Serge. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, embarrassed by Jeanne’s silence, waited a moment. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” he asked. “You are just like the Prince when I spoke + to him on the subject.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne turned away abruptly. Cayrol’s comparison was too direct. His + blunders were becoming wearisome. + </p> + <p> + The banker, quite discomfited on seeing the effect of his words, + continued: + </p> + <p> + “You object to this journey? If so, I am willing to give it up.” + </p> + <p> + The young wife was touched by this humble servility. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes,” she said, softly, “I should be grateful to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I had hoped to please you,” said Cayrol. “It is for me to beg pardon for + having succeeded so badly. Let us remain in Paris. It does not matter to + me what place we are in! Being near to you is all I desire.” + </p> + <p> + He approached her, and, with beaming eyes, added: + </p> + <p> + “You are so beautiful, Jeanne; and I have loved you so long a time!” + </p> + <p> + She moved away, full of a vague dread. Cayrol, very excitedly, put her + cloak round her shoulders, and looking toward the door, added: + </p> + <p> + “The carriage is there, we can go now.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne, much troubled, did not rise. + </p> + <p> + “Wait another minute,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol smiled constrainedly: + </p> + <p> + “A little while ago you were hurrying me off.” + </p> + <p> + It was true. But a sudden change had come over Jeanne. Her energy had + given way. She felt very weary. The idea of going away with Cayrol, and of + being alone with him in the carriage frightened her. She looked vaguely at + her husband, and saw, in a sort of mist, this great fat man, with a + protruding shirt-front, rolls of red flesh on his neck above his collar, + long fat ears which only needed gold ear-rings, and his great hairy hands, + on the finger of one of which shone the new wedding-ring. Then, in a rapid + vision, she beheld the refined profile, the beautiful blue eyes, and the + long, fair mustache of Serge. A profound sadness came over the young + woman, and tears rushed to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with you? You are crying!” exclaimed Cayrol, + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “It is nothing; my nerves are shaken. I am thinking of this chateau which + bears my name. Here I spent my youth, and here my father died. A thousand + ties bind me to this dwelling, and I cannot leave it without being + overcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Another home awaits you, luxuriantly adorned,” murmured Cayrol, “and + worthy of receiving you. It is there you will live henceforth with me, + happy through me, and belonging to me.” + </p> + <p> + Then, ardently supplicating her, he added: + </p> + <p> + “Let us go, Jeanne!” + </p> + <p> + He tried to take her in his arms, but the young wife disengaged herself. + </p> + <p> + “Leave me alone!” she said, moving away. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol looked at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “What is it? You are trembling and frightened!” + </p> + <p> + He tried to jest: + </p> + <p> + “Am I so very terrible, then? Or is it the idea of leaving here that + troubles you so much? If so, why did you not tell me sooner? I can + understand things. Let us remain here for a few days, or as long as you + like. I have arranged my affairs so as to be at liberty. Our little + paradise can wait for us.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke pleasantly, but with an undercurrent of anxiety. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne came slowly to him, and calmly taking his hand, said: + </p> + <p> + “You are very good.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not making any efforts to be so,” retorted Cayrol, smiling. “What do + I ask? That you may be happy and satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, do you wish to please me?” asked the young wife. + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” exclaimed Cayrol, warmly, “tell me how.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Desvarennes will be very lonely tomorrow when her daughter will be + gone. She will need consoling—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ah,” said Cayrol, thinking that he understood, “and you would like—” + </p> + <p> + “I would like to remain some time with her. You could come every day and + see us. I would be very grateful to you, and would love you very much!” + </p> + <p> + “But—but—but—!” exclaimed Cayrol, much confounded, “you + cannot mean what you say, Jeanne! What, my dear? You wish me to return + alone to Paris to-night? What would my servants say? You would expose me + to ridicule!” + </p> + <p> + Poor Cayrol made a piteous face. Jeanne looked at him as she had never + looked before. It made his blood boil. + </p> + <p> + “Would you be so very ridiculous for having been delicate and tender?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see what tenderness has to do with it,” cried Cayrol; “on the + contrary! But I love you. You don’t seem to think it!” + </p> + <p> + “Prove it,” replied Jeanne, more provokingly. + </p> + <p> + This time Cayrol lost all patience. + </p> + <p> + “Is it in leaving you that I shall prove it? Really, Jeanne, I am disposed + to be kind and to humor your whims, but on condition that they are + reasonable. You seem to be making fun of me! If I give way on such + important points on the day of our marriage, whither will you lead me? No; + no! You are my wife. The wife must follow her husband; the law says so!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it by law only that you wish to keep me? Have you forgotten what I + told you when you made me an offer of marriage? It is my hand only which I + give you.” + </p> + <p> + “And I answered you, that it would be my aim to gain your heart. Well, but + give me the means. Come, dear,” said the banker in a resolute tone, “you + take me for a child. I am not so simple as that! I know what this + resistance means; charming modesty so long as it is not everlasting.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne turned away without answering. Her face had changed its expression; + it was hard and determined. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” continued Cayrol, “you would make a saint lose patience. Come, + answer me, what does this attitude mean?” + </p> + <p> + The young wife remained silent. She felt she could not argue any longer, + and seeing no way out of her trouble, felt quite discouraged. Still she + would not yield. She shuddered at the very idea of belonging to this man; + she had never thought of the issue of this brutal and vulgar adventure. + Now that she realized it, she felt terribly disgusted. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol anxiously watched the increasing anguish depicted on his wife’s + face. He had a presentiment that she was hiding something from him, and + the thought nearly choked him. And, with this suspicion, his ingenuity + came to his aid. He approached Jeanne, and said, affectionately: + </p> + <p> + “Come, dear child, we are misleading one another; I in speaking too + harshly, you in refusing to understand me. Forget that I am your husband; + see in me only a friend and open your heart; your resistance hides a + mystery. You have had some grief or have been deceived.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne, softened, said, in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t speak to me like that; leave me.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” resumed Cayrol, quietly, “we are beginning life; there must be no + misunderstanding. Be frank, and you will find me indulgent. Come, young + girls are often romantic. They picture an ideal; they fall in love with + some one who does not return their love, which is sometimes even unknown + to him who is their hero. Then, suddenly, they have to return to a + reality. They find themselves face to face with a husband who is not the + expected Romeo, but who is a good man, devoted, loving, and ready to heal + the wounds he has not made. They are afraid of this husband; they mistrust + him, and will not follow him. It is wrong, because it is near him, in + honorable and right existence, that they find peace and forgetfulness.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol’s heart was torn by anxiety, and with trembling voice he tried to + read the effect of his words on Jeanne’s features. She had turned away. + Cayrol bent toward her and said: + </p> + <p> + “You don’t answer me.” + </p> + <p> + And as she still remained silent, he took her hand and forced her to look + at him. He saw that her face was covered with tears. He shuddered, and + then flew into a terrible passion. + </p> + <p> + “You are crying! It is true then? You have loved?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne rose with a bound; she saw her imprudence. She understood the trap + he had laid; her cheeks burned. Drying her tears, she turned toward + Cayrol, and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Who has said so?” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot deceive me,” replied the banker, violently. “I saw it in your + looks. Now, I want to know the man’s name!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne looked him straight in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that is an avowal!” exclaimed Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “You have deceived me unworthily by your pretended kindness,” interrupted + Jeanne, proudly, “I will not say anything more.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol flew at her—the churl reappeared. He muttered a fearful oath, + and seizing her by the arm, shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Take care! Don’t play with me. Speak, I insist, or—” and he shook + her brutally. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne, indignant, screamed and tore herself away from him. + </p> + <p> + “Leave me,” she said, “you fill me with horror!” + </p> + <p> + The husband, beside himself, pale as death and trembling convulsively, + could not utter a word, and was about to rush upon her when the door + opened, and Madame Desvarennes appeared, holding in her hand the letters + which she had written for Cayrol to take back to Paris. Jeanne uttered a + cry of joy, and with a bound threw herself into the arms of her who had + been a mother to her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes understood the situation at a glance. She beheld Cayrol + livid, tottering, and excited. She felt Jeanne trembling on her breast; + she saw something serious had occurred. She calmed herself and put on a + cold manner to enable her the better to suppress any resistance that they + might offer. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” she asked, looking severely at Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “Something quite unexpected,” replied the banker, laughing nervously. + “Madame refuses to follow me.” + </p> + <p> + “And for what reason?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “She dare not speak!” Cayrol resumed, whose excitement increased as he + spoke. “It appears she has in her heart an unhappy love! And as I do not + resemble the dreamed-of type, Madame has repugnances. But you understand + the affair is not going to end there. It is not usual to come and say to a + husband, twelve hours after marriage, ‘Sir, I am very sorry, but I love + somebody else!’ It would be too convenient. I shall not lend myself to + these whims.” + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol, oblige me by speaking in a lower tone,” said Madame Desvarennes, + quietly. “There is some misunderstanding between you and this child.” + </p> + <p> + The husband shrugged his broad shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “A misunderstanding? Faith! I think so! You have a delicacy of language + which pleases me! A misunderstanding! Say rather a shameful deception! But + I want to know the gentleman’s name. She will have to speak. I am not a + scented, educated gentleman. I am a peasant, and if I have to—” + </p> + <p> + “Enough,” said Madame Desvarennes, sharply tapping with the tips of her + fingers Cayrol’s great fist which he held menacingly like a butcher about + to strike. Then, taking him quietly aside toward the window, she added: + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool to go on like this! Go to my room for a moment. To you, + now, she will not say anything; to me she will confide all and we shall + know what to do.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol’s face brightened. + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” he said. “Yes, as ever, you are right. You must excuse + rile, I do not know how to talk to women. Rebuke her and put a little + sense in her head. But don’t leave her; she is fit to commit any folly.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Be easy,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + And making a sign to Cayrol, who was leaving the room, she returned to + Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my child, compose yourself. We are alone and you will tell me what + happened. Among women we understand each other. Come, you were frightened, + eh?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne was one petrified, immovable, and dumb, she fixed her eyes on a + flower which was hanging from a vase. This red flower fascinated her. She + could not take her eyes off it. Within her a persistent thought recurred: + that of her irremediable misfortune. Madame Desvarennes looked at her for + a moment; then, gently touching her shoulder, resumed; + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you answer me? Have you not confidence in me? Have I not brought + you up? And if you are not born of me, have not the tenderness and care I + have lavished upon you made me your real mother?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears; + </p> + <p> + “You know that I love you,” continued the mistress. “Come, come to my arms + as you used to do when you were little and were suffering. Place your head + thereon my heart and let your tears flow. I see they are choking you.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne could no longer resist, and falling on her knees beside Madame + Desvarennes, she buried her face in the silky and scented folds of her + dress like a frightened bird that flies to the nest and hides itself under + the wings of its mother. + </p> + <p> + This great and hopeless grief was to the mistress a certain proof that + Cayrol was right. Jeanne had loved and still loved another man than her + husband. But why had she not said anything, and why had she allowed + herself to be married to the banker? She had resisted, she remembered now. + She had struggled, and the refusals they had put down to pride they must + now attribute to passion. + </p> + <p> + She did not wish to be separated from him whom she loved. Hence the + struggle that had ended in her abandoning her hand to Cayrol, perhaps in a + moment of despair and discouragement. But why had he whom she loved not + married her? What obstacle had arisen between him and the young girl? + Jeanne, so beautiful, and dowered by Madame Desvarennes, who then could + have hesitated to ask her hand? + </p> + <p> + Perhaps he whom Jeanne loved was unworthy of her? No! She would not have + chosen him. Perhaps he was not free to marry? Yes, it must be that. Some + married man, perhaps! A scoundrel who did not mind breaking a young girl’s + heart! Where had she met him? In society at her house in the Rue + Saint-Dominique, perhaps! Who could tell? He very likely still continued + to come there. At the thought Madame Desvarennes grew angry. She wished to + know the name of the man so that she might have an explanation with him, + and tell him what she thought of his base conduct. The gentleman should + have respectable, well-educated girls to trifle with, should he? And he + risked nothing! He should be shown to the door with all honors due to his + shameful conduct. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne was still weeping silently at Madame Desvarennes’s knee. The latter + raised her head gently and wiped away the tears with her lace + pocket-handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my child! all this deluge means nothing. You must make up your + mind. I can understand your hiding anything from your husband, but not + from me! What is your lover’s name?” + </p> + <p> + This question so simply put, threw a faint light on Jeanne’s troubled + brain. She saw the danger she was running. To speak before Madame + Desvarennes! To tell the name of him who had been false to her! To her! + Was it possible? In a moment she understood that she was about to destroy + Micheline and Serge. Her conscience revolted and she would not. She raised + herself and looking at Madame Desvarennes with still frightened eyes, + </p> + <p> + “For pity’s sake, forget my tears! Don’t believe what my husband has told + you. Never seek to know. Remain ignorant as you are on the subject!” + </p> + <p> + “Then he whom you love is related to me, as: you wish to hide his name + even from me,” said Madame Desvarennes with instinctive anguish. + </p> + <p> + She was silent. Her eyes became fixed. They looked without seeing. She was + thinking. + </p> + <p> + “I beseech you,” cried Jeanne, madly placing her hands before Madame + Desvarennes’s face as if to check her scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “If I had a son,” continued the mistress, “I would believe—” + Suddenly she ceased speaking; she became pale, and bending toward Jeanne, + she looked into her very soul. + </p> + <p> + “Is it—” she began. + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” interrupted Jeanne, terrified at seeing that the mistress had + found out the truth. + </p> + <p> + “You deny it before I have pronounced the name?” said Madame Desvarennes + in a loud voice. “You read it then on my lips? Unhappy girl! The man whom + you love is the husband of my daughter!” + </p> + <p> + My daughter! The accent with which Madame Desvarennes pronounced the word + “my” was full of tragical power. It revealed the mother capable of doing + anything to defend the happiness of the child whom she adored. Serge had + calculated well. Between Jeanne and Micheline, Madame Desvarennes would + not hesitate. She would have allowed the world to crumble away to make of + its ruins a shelter where her daughter would be joyous and happy. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne had fallen back overwhelmed. The mistress raised her roughly. She + had no more consideration for her. It was necessary that she should speak. + Jeanne was the sole witness, and if the truth had to be got by main force + she should be made to speak it. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, forgive me!” moaned the young girl. + </p> + <p> + “It is not a question of that! In one word, answer me: Does he love you?” + </p> + <p> + “Do I know?” + </p> + <p> + “Did he tell you he did?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And he has married Micheline!” exclaimed Madame Desvarennes, with a + fearful gesture. “I distrusted him. Why did I not obey my instinct?” + </p> + <p> + And she began walking about like a lioness in a cage. Then, suddenly + stopping and placing herself before Jeanne, she continued: + </p> + <p> + “You must help me to save Micheline!” + </p> + <p> + She thought only of her own flesh and blood. Without hesitation, + unconsciously, she abandoned the other—the child of adoption. She + claimed the safety of her daughter as a debt. + </p> + <p> + “What has she to fear?” asked Jeanne, bitterly. “She triumphs, as she is + his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “If he were to abandon her,” said the mother with anguish. Then, + reflecting: “Still, he has sworn to me that he loved her.” + </p> + <p> + “He lied!” cried Jeanne, with rage. “He wanted Micheline for her fortune!” + </p> + <p> + “But why that?” inquired Madame Desvarennes, menacingly. “Is she not + pretty enough to have pleased him? Do you think that you are the only one + to be loved?” + </p> + <p> + “If I had been rich he would have married me!”, replied Jeanne, + exasperated. + </p> + <p> + She had risen in revolt. They were treading too heavily on her. With a + ferocious cry of triumph; she added: + </p> + <p> + “The night he used his influence with me to get me to marry Cayrol, he + assured me so on his word of honor!” + </p> + <p> + “Honor!” ironically repeated Madame Desvarennes, overwhelmed. “How he has + deceived us all! But what can I do? What course can I take? A separation? + Micheline would not consent. She loves him.” + </p> + <p> + And, in an outburst of fury, she cried: + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible that that stupid girl loves that worthless dandy? And she + has my blood in her veins! If she knew the truth she would die!” + </p> + <p> + “Am I dead?” asked Jeanne, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “You have an energetic nature,” retorted the mistress, compassionately; + “but she is so weak, so gentle! Ah! Jeanne, think what I have been to you; + raise some insurmountable barrier between yourself and Serge! + </p> + <p> + “Go back to your husband. You would not go with him a little while ago. It + was folly. If you separate from Cayrol, you will not be able to keep away + Serge, and you will take my daughter’s husband from her!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you think only of her! Her, always! She above all!” cried Jeanne, + with rage. “But me, I exist, I count, I have the right to be protected, of + being happy! And you wish me to sacrifice myself, to give myself up to + this man, whom I do not love, and who terrifies me?” + </p> + <p> + This time the question was plainly put. Madame Desvarennes became herself. + She straightened her figure, and in her commanding voice whose authority + no one resisted, said: + </p> + <p> + “What then? You wish to be separated from him? To regain your liberty at + the price of scandal? And what liberty? You will be repulsed, disdained. + Believe me, impose silence on your heart and listen to your reason. Your + husband is a good, loyal man. If you cannot love him, he will command your + respect. In marrying him, you have entered into engagements toward him. + Fulfil them; it is your duty.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne felt overpowered and vanquished. “But what will my life be?” she + groaned. + </p> + <p> + “That of an honest woman,” replied Madame Desvarennes, with true grandeur. + “Be a wife; God will make you a mother, and you will be saved.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne bowed herself at these words. She no longer felt in them the + selfishness of the mother. What the mistress now said was sincere and + true. It was no longer her agitated and alarmed heart that inspired her; + it was her conscience, calm and sincere. + </p> + <p> + “Very well; I will obey you,” said the young wife, simply. “Kiss me then, + mother.” + </p> + <p> + She bent her brow, and Madame Desvarennes let tears of gratitude and + admiration fall on it. Then Jeanne went of her own accord to the room + door. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Monsieur,” called she to Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + The husband, grown cooler while waiting, and troubled at the length of the + interview, showed his anxious face on the threshold. He saw Madame + Desvarennes grave, and Jeanne collected. He dared not speak. + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol, everything is explained,” said the mistress. “You have nothing to + fear from him whom you suspected. He is separated from Jeanne forever, + And; besides, nothing has passed between him and her who is your wife that + could arouse your jealousy. I will not tell you the name of this man now. + But if perchance he by some impossibility reappeared and threatened your + happiness, I would myself—you understand, me?—point him out to + you!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol remained thinking for, a moment; then addressing Madame + Desvarennes, replied: + </p> + <p> + “It is well. I have confidence in you.” + </p> + <p> + Then turning toward Jeanne, he added: + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me and let everything be forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress’s face beamed with joy, as she followed their departing + figures with her eyes, and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Brave hearts!” + </p> + <p> + Then, changing her expression: + </p> + <p> + “Now for the other one!” exclaimed she. + </p> + <p> + And she went out on to the terrace. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE FETE + </h2> + <p> + The air was mild, the night clear and bright. Cayrol’s carriage rolled + rapidly along the broad avenue of the park shadowed by tall trees, the + lanterns throwing, as they passed, their quivering light on the thickets. + The rumbling carriages took the last guests to the railway station. It was + past midnight. A nightingale began singing his song of love to the stars. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes mechanically stopped to listen. A sense of sorrow came + over this mother who was a prey to the most cruel mental anguish. She + thought that she could have been very happy on that splendid night, if her + heart had been full of quietude and serenity. Her two daughters were + married; her last task was accomplished. She ought to have nothing to do + but enjoy life after her own fashioning, and be calm and satisfied. + Instead of that, here were fear and dissimulation taking possession of her + mind; and an ardent, pitiless struggle beginning against the man who had + deceived her daughter and lied to her. The bark which carried her fortune, + on reaching port, had caught fire, and it was necessary to begin laboring + again amid cares and pains. + </p> + <p> + A dull rage filled her heart. To have so surely built up the edifice of + her happiness, to have embellished it every hour, and then to see an + intruder audaciously taking possession of it, and making his despotic and + hateful authority prevail! And what could she do against this new master? + Nothing. He was marvellously protected by Micheline’s mad love for him. To + strike Serge would be to wound Micheline, surely and mortally. So this + scoundrel could laugh at her and dare her with impunity! + </p> + <p> + What must she do? Take him aside and tell him that she knew of his + disloyal conduct, and tell him of her contempt and hatred for him? And + after that? What would be the consequence of this outburst of violence? + The Prince, using his power over Micheline, would separate the daughter + from the mother. And Madame Desvarennes would be alone in her corner, + abandoned like a poor dog, and would die of despair and anger. What other + course then? She must dissemble, mask her face with indifference, if + possible with tenderness, and undertake the difficult task of separating + Micheline from the man whom she adored. It was quite a feat of strategy to + plan. To bring out the husband’s faults and to make his errors known, and + give her the opportunity of proving his worthlessness. In a word, to make + the young wife understand that she had married an elegant manikin, + unworthy of her love. + </p> + <p> + It would be an easy matter to lay snares for Serge. He was a gambler. She + could let him have ready money to satisfy his passion. Once in the + clutches of the demon of play, he would neglect his wife, and the mother + might regain a portion of the ground she had lost. Micheline’s fortune + once broken into, she would interpose between her daughter and son-in-law. + She would make him pull up, and holding him tightly by her purse strings, + would lead him whither she liked. + </p> + <p> + Already in fancy she saw her authority regained, and her daughter, her + treasure, her life, true mistress of the situation, grateful to her for + having saved her. And then, she thought, a baby will come, and if + Micheline is really my daughter, she will adore the little thing, and the + blind love which she has given to her husband will be diminished by so + much. + </p> + <p> + Serge did not know what an adversary he had against him in his + mother-in-law. It was a bad thing to cross the mistress when business + matters were concerned, but now that her daughter’s happiness was at + stake! A smile came to her lips. A firm resolution from that hour must + guide her, and the struggle between her son-in-law and herself could only + end by the crushing of one of them. + </p> + <p> + In the distance the music from the work-people’s ball was heard. Madame + Desvarennes mechanically bent her steps toward the tent under which the + heavy bounds of the dancers reechoed. Every now and then large shadows + appeared on the canvas. A joyful clamor issued from the ballroom. Loud + laughter resounded, mingled with piercing cries of tickled women. + </p> + <p> + The voice of the master of the ceremonies could be heard jocose and + solemn: “La poule! Advance! Set to partners!” Then the stamping of heavy + shoes on the badly planed floor, and, above all, the melancholy sounds of + the clarionet and the shrill notes of the cornet were audible. + </p> + <p> + At the entrance of the ballroom, surrounded by tables and stools, two + barrels of wine on stands presented their wooden taps, ready for those who + wanted to quench their thirst. A large red mark under each barrel showed + that the hands of the drinkers wire no longer steady. A cake-seller had + taken up his place at the other side, and was kneading a last batch of + paste, while his apprentice was ringing a bell which hung over the iron + cooking-stove to attract customers. There was an odor of rancid butter, + spilled wine, and paraffin oil. + </p> + <p> + Adjoining the ballroom, a merry-go-round; which had been the delight of + the village urchins all day, appealed for custom by the aid of a + barrel-organ on which a woman in a white bodice was playing the waltz from + ‘Les Cloches de Corneville’. + </p> + <p> + The animation of this fete, in the midst of which Madame Desvarennes + suddenly appeared, was a happy diversion from the serious thoughts which + beset her. She remembered that Serge and Micheline must be there. She came + from under the shadow of the avenue into the full light. On recognizing + her, all the workpeople, who were seated, rose. She was really mistress + and lady of the place. And then she had fed these people since morning. + With a sign she bade them be seated, and walking quickly toward the + dancing-room, lifted the red and white cotton curtain which hung over the + entrance. + </p> + <p> + There, in a space of a hundred square yards or so, about a hundred and + fifty people were sitting or standing. At the end, on a stage, were the + musicians, each with a bottle of wine at his feet, from which they + refreshed themselves during the intervals. An impalpable dust, raised by + the feet of the dancers, filled the air charged with acrid odors. The + women in light dresses and bareheaded, and the men arrayed in their Sunday + clothes, gave themselves up with frantic ardor to their favorite pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Ranged in double rows, vis-a-vis, they were waiting with impatience for + the music to strike up for the last figure. Near the orchestra, Serge was + dancing with the Mayor’s daughter opposite Micheline, whose partner was + the mayor himself. An air of joyful gravity lit up the municipal officer’s + face. He was enjoying the honor which the Princess had done him. His + pretty young daughter, dressed, in her confirmation dress, which had been + lengthened with a muslin flounce, a rose in her hair, and her hands + encased in straw-colored one-button kid gloves, hardly dared raise her + eyes to the Prince, and with burning cheeks, answered in monosyllables the + few remarks Serge felt forced to address to her. + </p> + <p> + The orchestra bellowed, the floor shook; the two lines of dancers had + advanced in a body. Madame Desvarennes, leaning against the door-post, + followed with her eyes her daughter, whose light footsteps contrasted + strangely with the heavy tread of the women around her. The mayor, eager + and respectful, followed her, making efforts to keep up with her without + treading on her long train. It was, + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, Madame la Princesse. If Madame la Princesse will do me the + honor to give me her hand, it is our turn to cross.” + </p> + <p> + They had just crossed. Serge suddenly found himself facing his + mother-in-law. His face lit up, and he uttered a joyful exclamation. + Micheline raised her eyes, and following her husband’s look, perceived her + mother. Then it was a double joy. With a mischievous wink, Serge called + Madame Desvarennes’s attention to the mayor’s solemn appearance as he was + galloping with Micheline, also the comical positions of the rustics. + </p> + <p> + Micheline was smiling. She was enjoying herself. All this homely gayety, + of which she was the cause, made her feel happy. She enjoyed the pleasure + of those around her. With her compassionate eyes she thanked her mother in + the distance for having prepared this fete in honor of her marriage. The + clarionet, violin, and cornet sounded a last modulation, then the final + cadence put an end to the bounds of the dances. Each took his lady to her + place—the mayor with pompous gait, Serge with as much grace as if he + had been at an ambassador’s ball and was leading a young lady of highest + rank. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes was suddenly surrounded; cheers resounded, the band + struck up the Marseillaise. + </p> + <p> + “Let us escape,” said Serge, “because these good people will think nothing + of carrying us in triumph.” + </p> + <p> + And leading away his mother-in-law and his wife, he left the ballroom + followed by cheers. + </p> + <p> + Outside they all three walked in silence. The night air was delightful + after coming out of that furnace. The cheering had ceased, and the + orchestra was playing a polka. Micheline had taken her husband’s arm. + </p> + <p> + They went along slowly, and close together. Not a word was exchanged; they + all three seemed to be listening within themselves. When they reached the + house, they went up the steps leading into the greenhouse, which served + also as a boudoir to Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + The atmosphere was still warm and scented, the lamps still burning. The + guests had left; Micheline looked round. The remembrance of this happy + evening, which had been the crowning of her happiness, filled her heart + with emotion. Turning toward her mother with a radiant face, she cried: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! mamma! I am so happy,” and threw her arms around her. + </p> + <p> + Serge started at this cry. Two tears came to his eyes, and looking a + little pale, he stretched out to Madame Desvarennes his hands, which she + felt trembling in hers, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes gazed at him for a moment. She did not see the shadow + of a wicked thought on his brow. He was sincerely affected, truly + grateful. The idea occurred to her that Jeanne had deceived her, or had + deceived herself, and that Serge had not loved her. A feeling of relief + took possession of her. But distrust had unfortunately entered her mind. + She put away that flattering hope. And giving her son-in-law such a look, + which, had he been less moved, he would have understood, she murmured, + </p> + <p> + “We shall see.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 3. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE FIRST BREAK + </h2> + <p> + The first two months of this union were truly enchanting. Serge and + Micheline never left each other. After an absence of eight days they had + returned to Paris with Madame Desvarennes, and the hitherto dull mansion + in the Rue Saint-Dominique was filled with joyful bustle. The splendid + stables, formerly too large for the mistress’s three horses, were now + insufficient for the service of the Prince. There were eight splendid + carriage-horses, a pair of charming ponies—bought especially for + Micheline’s use, but which the young wife had not been able to make up her + mind to drive herself—four saddle-horses, upon which every morning + about eight o’clock, when the freshness of night had perfumed the Bois de + Boulogne, the young people took their ride round the lake. + </p> + <p> + A bright sun made the sheet of water sparkle between its borders of dark + fir-trees; the fresh air played in Micheline’s veil, and the tawny leather + of the saddles creaked. Those were happy days for Micheline, who was + delighted at having Serge near her, attentive to her every want, and + controlling his thoroughbred English horse to her gentle pace. Every now + and then his mount would wheel about and rear in revolt, she following him + with fond looks, proud of the elegant cavalier who could subdue without + apparent effort, by the mere pressure of his thighs, that impetuous steed. + </p> + <p> + Then she would give her horse a touch with the whip, and off she would go + at a gallop, feeling happy with the wind blowing in her face, and he whom + she loved by her side to smile on and encourage her. Then they would + scamper along; the dog with his thin body almost touching the ground, + racing and frightening the rabbits, which shot across the road swift as + bullets. Out of breath by the violent ride, Micheline would stop, and pat + the neck of her lovely chestnut horse. Slowly the young people would + return to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and, on arriving in the courtyard, + there was such a pawing of feet as brought the clerks to the windows, + hiding behind the curtains. Tired with healthy exercise, Micheline would + go smiling to the office where her mother was hard at work, and say: + </p> + <p> + “Here we are, mamma!” + </p> + <p> + The mistress would rise and kiss her daughter beaming with freshness. Then + they would go up to breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes’s doubts were lulled to rest. She saw her daughter + happy. Her son-in-law was in every respect cordial and charming toward + her. Cayrol and his wife had scarcely been in Paris since their marriage. + The banker had joined Herzog in his great scheme of the “Credit,” and was + travelling all over Europe establishing offices and securing openings. + Jeanne accompanied him. They were then in Greece. The young wife’s letters + to her adopted mother breathed calmness and satisfaction. She highly + praised her husband’s kindness to her, and said it was unequalled. + </p> + <p> + No allusion was made to that evening of their marriage, when, escaping + from Cayrol’s wrath, she had thrown herself in Madame Desvarennes’s arms, + and had allowed her secret to be found out. The mistress might well think + then that the thought which at times still troubled her mind was a + remembrance of a bad dream. + </p> + <p> + What contributed especially to make her feel secure was Jeanne’s absence. + If the young woman had been near Serge, Madame Desvarennes might have + trembled. But Micheline’s beautiful rival was far away, and Serge seemed + very much in love with his wife. + </p> + <p> + Everything was for the best. The formidable projects which Madame + Desvarennes had formed in the heat of her passion had not been carried out. + Serge had as yet not given Madame Desvarennes cause for real displeasure. + Certainly he was spending money foolishly, but then his wife was so rich! + </p> + <p> + He had put his household on an extraordinary footing. Everything that most + refined luxury had invented he had introduced as a matter of course, and + for everyday use. He entertained magnificently several times a week. And + Madame Desvarennes, from her apartments, for she would never appear at + these grand receptions, heard the noise of these doings. This woman, + modest and simple in her ideas, whose luxury had always been artistic, + wondered that they could spend so much on frivolous entertainments. But + Micheline was queen of these sumptuous ceremonies. She came in full dress + to be admired by her mother, before going down to receive her guests, and + the mistress had not courage to offer any remonstrances as to expense when + she saw her daughter so brilliant and contented. + </p> + <p> + They played cards very much. The great colony of foreigners who came every + week to Panine’s receptions brought with them their immoderate passion for + cards, and he was only too willing to give way to it. These gentlemen, + among them all, almost without taking off their white kid gloves, would + win or lose between forty and fifty thousand francs at bouillotte, just to + give them an appetite before going to the club to finish the night at + baccarat. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the ladies, with their graceful toilettes displayed on the low + soft chairs, talked of dress behind their fans, or listened to the songs + of a professional singer, while young men whispered soft nothings in their + ears. + </p> + <p> + It was rumored that the Prince lost heavily. It was not to be wondered at; + he was so happy in love! Madame Desvarennes, who used every means of + gaining information on the subject, even to the gossip of the servants, + heard that the sums were enormous. No doubt they were exaggerated, but the + fact remained the same. The Prince was losing. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes could not resist the inclination of finding out whether + Micheline knew what was going on, and one morning when the young wife came + down to see her mother, dressed in a lovely pink gown, the mistress, while + teasing her daughter, said, carelessly: + </p> + <p> + “It seems your husband lost heavily last night.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline looked astonished at Madame Desvarennes, and in a quiet voice + replied: + </p> + <p> + “A good host may not win from his guests; it would look as if he invited + them to rob them. Losses at cards are included in the costs of a + reception.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes thought that her daughter had become a very grand lady, + and had soon acquired expanded ideas. But she dared not say anything more. + She dreaded a quarrel with her daughter, and would have sacrificed + everything to retain her cajoling ways. + </p> + <p> + She threw herself into her work with renewed vigor. + </p> + <p> + “If the Prince spends large sums,” she said to herself, “I will earn + larger ones. There can be no hole dug deep enough by him that I shall not + be able, to fill up.” + </p> + <p> + And she made the money come in at the door so that her son-in-law might + throw it out of the window. + </p> + <p> + One fine day these great people who visited at the mansion in the Rue + Saint-Dominique hastened away to the country. September had arrived, + bringing with it the shooting season. The Prince and Micheline settled + themselves at Cernay, not as in the first days of their marriage as lovers + who sought quietude, but as people sure of their happiness, who wished to + make a great show. They took all the carriages with them, and there was + nothing but bustle and movement. The four keepers, dressed in the Prince’s + livery, came daily for orders as to shooting arrangements. And every week + shoals of visitors arrived, brought from the station in large breaks drawn + by four horses. + </p> + <p> + The princely dwelling was in its full splendor. There was a continual + going and coming of fashionable worldlings. From top to bottom of the + castle was a constant rustling of silk dresses; groups of pretty women, + coming downstairs with peals of merry laughter and singing snatches from + the last opera. In the spacious hall they played billiards and other + games, while one of the gentlemen performed on the large organ. There was + a strange mixture of freedom and strictness. The smoke of Russian + cigarettes mingled with the scent of opoponax. An elegant confusion which + ended about six o’clock in a general flight, when the sportsmen came home, + and the guests went to their rooms. An hour afterward all these people met + in the large drawing-room; the ladies in low-bodied evening dresses; the + gentlemen in dress-coats and white satin waistcoats, with a sprig of + mignonette and a white rose in their buttonholes. After dinner, they + danced in the drawing-rooms, where a mad waltz would even restore energy + to the gentlemen tired out by six hours spent in the field. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes did not join in that wild existence. She had remained + in Paris, attentive to business. On Saturdays she came down by the five + o’clock train and regularly returned on the Monday morning. Her presence + checked their wild gayety a little. Her black dress was like a blot among + the brocades and satins. Her severe gravity, that of a woman who pays and + sees the money going too fast, was like a reproach, silent but explicit, + to that gay and thoughtless throng of idlers, solely taken up by their + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + The servants made fun of her. One day the Prince’s valet, who thought + himself a clever fellow, said before all the other servants that Mother + Damper had arrived. Of course they all roared with laughter and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Bother the old woman! Why does she come and worry us? She had far better + stop in the office and earn money; that’s all she’s good for!” + </p> + <p> + The disdain which the servants learned from their master grew rapidly. So + much so that one Monday morning, toward nine o’clock, Madame Desvarennes + came down to the courtyard, expecting to find the carriage which generally + took her to the station. It was the second coachman’s duty to drive her, + and she did not see him. Thinking that he was a little late, she walked to + the stable-yard. There, instead of the victoria which usually took her, + she saw a large mail-coach to which two grooms were harnessing the + Prince’s four bays. The head coachman, an Englishman, dressed like a + gentleman, with a stand-up collar, and a rose in his buttonhole, stood + watching the operations with an air of importance. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes went straight to him. He had seen her coming, out of + the corner of his eye, without disturbing himself. + </p> + <p> + “How is it that the carriage is not ready to take me to the station?” + asked the mistress. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, Madame,” answered this personage, condescendingly, without + taking his hat off. + </p> + <p> + “But where is the coachman who generally drives me?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. If Madame would like to see in the stables—” + </p> + <p> + And with a careless gesture, the Englishman pointed out to Madame + Desvarennes the magnificent buildings at the end of the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + The blood rose to the mistress’s cheeks; she gave the coachman such a look + that he moved away a little. Then glancing at her watch, she said, coldly: + </p> + <p> + “I have only a quarter of an hour before the train leaves, but here are + horses that ought to go well. Jump on the box, my man, you shall drive + me.” + </p> + <p> + The Englishman shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Those horses are not for service; they are only for pleasure,” he + answered. “I drive the Prince. I don’t mind driving the Princess, but I am + not here to drive you, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + And with an insolent gesture, setting his hat firmly on his head, he + turned his back upon the mistress. At the same moment, a sharp stroke from + a light cane made his hat roll on the pavement. And as the Englishman + turned round, red with rage, he found himself face to face with the + Prince, whose approach neither Madame Desvarennes nor he had heard. + </p> + <p> + Serge, in an elegant morning suit, was going round his stables when he had + been attracted by this discussion. The Englishman, uneasy, sought to frame + an excuse. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue!” exclaimed the Prince, sharply, “and go and wait my + orders.” + </p> + <p> + And turning toward the mistress: + </p> + <p> + “Since this man refuses to drive you, I shall have the pleasure of taking + you to the station myself,” he said, with a charming smile. + </p> + <p> + And as Madame Desvarennes remonstrated, + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I can drive four-in-hand,” he added. “For once in my life that talent + will have been of some use to me. Pray jump in.” + </p> + <p> + And opening the door of the mail-coach he handed her into the vast + carriage. Then, climbing with one bound to the box, he gathered the reins + and, cigar in mouth, with all the coolness of an old coachman, he started + the horses in the presence of all the grooms, and made a perfect + semicircle on the gravel of the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + The incident was repeated favorably for Serge. It was agreed that he had + behaved like a true nobleman. Micheline was proud of it, and saw in this + act of deference to her mother a proof of his love for her. As to the + mistress, she understood the advantage this clever manoeuvre gave to the + Prince. At the same time she felt the great distance which henceforth + separated her from the world in which her daughter lived. + </p> + <p> + The insolence of that servant was a revelation to her. They despised her. + The Prince’s coachman would not condescend to drive a plebeian like her. + She paid the wages of these servants to no purpose. Her plebeian origin + and business habits were a vice. They submitted to her; they did not + respect her. + </p> + <p> + Although her son-in-law and daughter were perfect toward her in their + behavior, she became gloomy and dull, and but seldom went now to Cernay. + She felt in the way, and uncomfortable. The smiling and superficial + politeness of the visitors irritated her nerves. These people were too + well bred to be rude toward Panine’s mother-in-law, but she felt that + their politeness was forced. Under their affected nicety she detected + irony. She began to hate them all. + </p> + <p> + Serge, sovereign lord of Cernay, was really happy. Every moment he + experienced new pleasure in gratifying his taste for luxury. His love for + horses grew more and more. He gave orders to have a model stud-house + erected in the park amid the splendid meadows watered by the Oise; and + bought stallions and breeding mares from celebrated English breeders. He + contemplated starting a racing stable. + </p> + <p> + One day when Madame Desvarennes arrived at Cernay, she was surprised to + see the greensward bordering the woods marked out with white stakes. She + asked inquiringly what these stakes meant? Micheline answered in an easy + tone: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you saw them? That is the track for training. We made Mademoiselle de + Cernay gallop there to-day. She’s a level-going filly with which Serge + hopes to win the next Poule des Produits.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress was amazed. A child who had been brought up so simply, in + spite of her large fortune, a little commoner, speaking of level-going + fillies and the Poule des Produits! What a change had come over her and + what incredible influence this frivolous, vain Panine had over that young + and right-minded girl! And that in a few months! What would it be later? + He would succeed in imparting to her his tastes and would mould her to his + whims, and the young modest girl whom he had received from the mother + would become a horsey and fast woman. + </p> + <p> + Was it possible that Micheline could be happy in that hollow and empty + life? The love of her husband satisfied her. His love was all she asked + for, all else was indifferent to her. Thus of her mother, the impassioned + toiler, was born the passionate lover! All the fervency which the mother + had given to business, Micheline had given to love. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, Serge behaved irreproachably. One must do him that justice. Not + even an appearance accused him. He was faithful, unlikely as that may seem + in a man of his kind; he never left his wife. He had hardly ever gone out + without her; they were a couple of turtle-doves. They were laughed at. + </p> + <p> + “The Princess has tied a string round Serge’s foot,” was said by some of + Serge’s former woman friends! + </p> + <p> + It was something to be sure of her daughter’s happiness. That happiness + was dearly, bought; but as the proverb says: + </p> + <p> + “Money troubles are not mortal!” + </p> + <p> + And, besides, it was evident that the Prince did not keep account of his + money; his hand was always open. And never did a great lord do more honor + to his fortune. Panine, in marrying Micheline, had found the mistress’s + cash-box at his disposal. + </p> + <p> + This prodigious cash-box had seemed to him inexhaustible, and he had drawn + on it like a Prince in the Arabian Nights on the treasure of the genii. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it would suffice to let him see that he was spending the capital + as well as the income to make him alter his line of conduct. At all + events, the moment was not yet opportune, and, besides, the amount was not + yet large enough. Cry out about some hundred thousand francs! Madame + Desvarennes would be thought a miser and would be covered with shame. She + must wait. + </p> + <p> + And, shut up in her office in the Rue Saint-Dominique with Marechal, who + acted as her confidant, she worked with heart and soul full of passion and + anger, making money. It was fine to witness the duel between these two + beings: the one useful, the other useless; one sacrificing everything to + work, the other everything to pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Toward the end of October, the weather at Cernay became unsettled, and + Micheline complained of the cold. Country life so pleased Serge that he + turned a deaf ear to her complaints. But lost in that large house, the + autumn winds rustling through the trees, whose leaves were tinted with + yellow, Micheline became sad, and the Prince understood that it was time + to go back to Paris. + </p> + <p> + The town seemed deserted to Serge. Still, returning to his splendid + apartments was a great satisfaction and pleasure to him. Everything + appeared new. He reviewed the hangings, the expensive furniture, the + paintings and rare objects. He was charmed. It was really of wonderful + beauty, and the cage seemed worthy of the bird. For several evenings he + remained quietly at home with Micheline, in the little silver-gray + drawing-room that was his favorite room. He looked through albums, too, + while his wife played at her piano quietly or sang. + </p> + <p> + They retired early and came down late. Then he had become a gourmand. He + spent hours in arranging menus and inventing unknown dishes about which he + consulted his chef, a cook of note. + </p> + <p> + He rode in the Bois in the course of the day, but did not meet any one + there; for of every two carriages one was a hackney coach with a worn-out + sleepy horse, his head hanging between his knees, going the round of the + lake. He ceased going to the Bois, and went out on foot in the + Champs-Elysees. He crossed the Pont de la Concorde, and walked up and down + the avenues near the Cirque. + </p> + <p> + He was wearied. Life had never appeared so monotonous to him. Formerly he + had at least the preoccupations of the future. He asked himself how he + could alter the sad condition in which he vegetated! Shut up in this happy + existence, without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner in his + cell. He longed for the unforeseen; his wife irritated him, she was of too + equable a temperament. She always met him with the same smile on her lips. + And then happiness agreed with her too well; she was growing stout. + </p> + <p> + One day, on the Boulevard des Italiens, Serge met an old friend, the Baron + de Prefont, a hardened ‘roue’. He had not seen him since his marriage. It + was a pleasure to him. They had a thousand things to say to each other. + And walking along, they came to the Rue Royale. + </p> + <p> + “Come to the club,” said Prefont, taking Serge by the arm. + </p> + <p> + The Prince, having nothing else to do, allowed himself to be led away, and + went. He felt a strange pleasure in those large rooms of the club, the + Grand Cercle, with their glaring furniture. The common easy-chairs, + covered with dark leather, seemed delightful. He did not notice the + well-worn carpets burned here and there by the hot cigar-ash; the strong + smell of tobacco, impregnated in the curtains, did not make him feel + qualmish. He was away from home, and was satisfied with anything for a + change. He had been domesticated long enough. + </p> + <p> + One morning, taking up the newspaper, a name caught Madame Desvarennes’s + eye-that of the Prince. She read: + </p> + <p> + “The golden book of the Grand Cercle has just had another illustrious name + inscribed in it. The Prince Panine was admitted yesterday, proposed by the + Baron de Prefont and the Duc de Bligny.” + </p> + <p> + These few lines made Madame Desvarennes’s blood boil. Her ears tingled as + if all the bells of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont had been rung together. In a + rapid vision, she saw misfortune coming. Her son-in-law, that born + gambler, at the Grand Cercle! No more smiles for Micheline; henceforth she + had a terrible rival—the devouring love of play. + </p> + <p> + Then Madame Desvarennes reflected. The husband’s deserting his fireside + would be salvation for herself. The door by which he went out, would serve + as an entrance for her. The plan which she had conceived at Cernay that + terrible night of the marriage when Jeanne had confided in her, remained + for her to execute. By opening her purse widely to the Prince, she would + help him in his vice. And she would infallibly succeed in separating Serge + and Micheline. + </p> + <p> + But the mistress checked herself. Lend her hands to the destruction of her + son-in-law in a fit of fierce maternal egoism? Was it not unworthy of her? + How many tears would the Prince’s errors cost her whom she wished to + regain at all price? And then would she always be there to compensate by + her devoted affection the bitterly regretted estrangement from the + husband? She would, in dying, leave the household disunited. + </p> + <p> + She was horrified at what she had for an instant dreamed of doing. And + instead of helping the Prince on to destruction, she determined to do all + in her power to keep him in the path of honor. That resolution formed, + Madame Desvarennes was satisfied. She felt superior to Serge, and to a + mind like hers the thought was strengthening. + </p> + <p> + The admission to the Grand Cercle gave Serge a powerful element of + interest in life: He had to manoeuvre to obtain his liberty. His first + evenings spent from home troubled Micheline deeply. The young wife was + jealous when she saw her husband going out. She feared a rival, and + trembled for her love. Serge’s mysterious conduct caused her intolerable + torture. She dared not say anything to her mother, and remained perfectly + quiet on the subject before her husband. She sought discreetly, listened + to the least word that might throw any light on the matter. + </p> + <p> + One day she found an ivory counter, bearing the stamp of the Grand Cercle, + in her husband’s dressing-room. It was in the Rue Royale then that her + husband spent his evenings. This discovery was a great relief to her. It + was not very wrong to go there, and if the Prince did go and smoke a few + cigars and have a game at bouillotte, it was not a very great crime. The + return of his usual friends to Paris and the resumption of their + receptions would bring him home again. + </p> + <p> + Serge now left Micheline about ten o’clock in the evening regularly and + arrived at the club about eleven. High play did not commence until after + midnight. Then he seated himself at the gaming-table with all the ardor of + a professional gambler. His face changed its expression. When winning, it + was animated with an expression of awful joy; when losing, he looked as + hard as a stone, his features contracted, and his eyes were full of gloomy + fire. He bit his mustache convulsively. Moreover, always silent, winning + or losing with superb indifference. + </p> + <p> + He lost. His bad luck had followed him. At the club his losses were no + longer limited. There was always some one willing to take a hand, and + until dawn he played, wasting his life and energies to satisfy his insane + love of gambling. + </p> + <p> + One morning, Marechal entered Madame Desvarennes’s private office, holding + a little square piece of paper. Without speaking a word, he placed it on + the desk. The mistress took it, read what was written upon it in shaky + handwriting, and suddenly becoming purple, rose. The paper bore these + simple words: + </p> + <p> + “Received from Monsieur Salignon the sum of one hundred thousand francs. + Serge Panine.” + </p> + <p> + “Who brought this paper?” asked Madame Desvarennes, crushing it between + her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “The waiter who attends the card-room at the club.” + </p> + <p> + “The waiter?” cried Madame Desvarennes, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is a sort of banker,” said Marechal. “These gentlemen apply to him + when they run short of money. The Prince must have found himself in that + predicament. Still he has just received the rents for the property in the + Rue de Rivoli.” + </p> + <p> + “The rents!” grumbled Madame Desvarennes, with an energetic movement. “The + rents! A drop of water in a river! You don’t know that he is a man to lose + the hundred thousand francs which they claim, in one night.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress paced up and down the room. She suddenly came to a + standstill. “If I don’t stop him, the rogue will sell the feather-bed from + under my daughter! But he shall have a little of my mind! He has provoked + me long enough. Pay it! I’ll take my money’s worth out of him.” + </p> + <p> + And in a second, Madame Desvarennes was in the Prince’s room. + </p> + <p> + Serge, after a delicate breakfast, was smoking and dozing on the + smoking-room sofa. The night had been a heavy one for him. He had won two + hundred and fifty thousand francs from Ibrahim Bey, then he had lost all, + besides five thousand louis advanced by the obliging Salignon. He had told + the waiter to come to the Rue Saint-Dominique, and by mistake the man had + gone to the office. + </p> + <p> + The sudden opening of the smoking-room door roused Serge. He unclosed his + eyes and looked very much astonished at seeing Madame Desvarennes appear. + Pale, frowning, and holding the accusing paper in her hand, she angrily + inquired: + </p> + <p> + “Do you recognize that?” and placed the receipt which he had signed, + before him, as he slowly rose. + </p> + <p> + Serge seized it quickly, and then looking coldly at his mother-in-law, + said: + </p> + <p> + “How did this paper come into your hands?” + </p> + <p> + “It has just been brought to my cashier. A hundred thousand francs! Faith! + You are going ahead! Do you know how many bushels of corn must be ground + to earn that?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Madame,” said the Prince, interrupting Madame + Desvarennes. “I don’t suppose you came here to give me a lesson in + commercial statistics. This paper was presented to your cashier by + mistake. I was expecting it, and here is the money ready to pay it. As you + have been good enough to do so, pray refund yourself.” + </p> + <p> + And taking a bundle of bank-notes from a cabinet, the Prince handed them + to the astonished mistress. + </p> + <p> + “But,” she sought to say, very much put out by this unexpected answer, + “where did you get this money from? You must have inconvenienced + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said the Prince, quietly, “that only concerns myself. + Be good enough to see whether the amount is there,” added he with a smile. + “I reckon so badly that it is possible I may have made a mistake to your + disadvantage.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes pushed away the hand which presented the bank-notes, + and shook her head gravely: + </p> + <p> + “Keep this money,” she said; “unfortunately you will need it. You have + entered on a very dangerous path, which grieves me very much. I would + willingly give ten times the amount, at once, to be sure that you would + never touch another card.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame!” said the Prince with impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I know what I am risking by speaking thus. It weighs so heavily on my + heart. I must give vent to it or I shall choke. You are spending money + like a man who does not know what it is to earn it. And if you continue—” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes raised her eyes and looked at the Prince. She saw him + so pale with suppressed rage that she dared not say another word. She read + deadly hatred in the young man’s look. Frightened at what she had just + been saying, she stepped back, and went quickly toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Take this money, Madame,” said Serge, in a trembling voice. “Take it, or + all is over between us forever.” + </p> + <p> + And, seizing the notes, he put them by force in Madame Desvarennes’s + hands. Then tearing up with rage the paper that had been the cause of this + painful scene, he threw the pieces in the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + Deeply affected, Madame Desvarennes descended the stairs which she had a + few minutes before gone up with so much resolution. She had a presentiment + that an irreparable rupture had just taken place between herself and her + son-in-law. She had ruffled Panine’s pride. She felt that he would never + forgive her. She went to her room sad and thoughtful. Life was becoming + gloomy for this poor woman. Her confidence in herself had disappeared. She + hesitated now, and was irresolute when she had to take a decision. She no + longer went straight to the point by the shortest road. Her sonorous voice + was softened. She was no longer the same willing energetic woman who + feared no obstacles. She had known defeat. + </p> + <p> + The attitude of her daughter had changed toward her. It seemed as if + Micheline wished to absolve herself of all complicity with Madame + Desvarennes. She kept away to prove to her husband that if her mother had + displeased him in any way, she had nothing to do with it. This behavior + grieved her mother, who felt that Serge was working secretly to turn + Micheline against her. And the mad passion of the young wife for him whom + she recognized as her master did not allow the mother to doubt which side + she would take if ever she had to choose between husband and mother. + </p> + <p> + One day Micheline came down to see her mother. It was more than a month + since she had visited her. In a moment Madame Desvarennes saw that she had + something of an embarrassing nature to speak of. To begin with she was + more affectionate than usual, seeming to wish with the honey of her kisses + to sweeten the bitter cross which the mistress was doomed to bear. Then + she hesitated. She fidgeted about the room humming. At last she said that + the doctor had come at the request of Serge, who was most anxious about + his wife’s health. And that excellent Doctor Rigaud, who had known her + from a child, had found her suffering from great weakness. He had ordered + change of air. + </p> + <p> + At these words Madame Desvarennes raised her head and gave her daughter a + terrible look: + </p> + <p> + “Come, no nonsense! Speak the truth! He is taking you away!” + </p> + <p> + “But, mamma,” said Micheline, disconcerted at this interruption, “I assure + you, you are mistaken. Anxiety for my health alone guides my husband.” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband!” broke forth Madame Desvarennes. “Your husband! Ah, there; + go away! Because if you stop here, I shall not be able to control myself, + and shall say things about him that you will not forgive in a hurry! As + you are ill, you are right to have change of air. I shall remain here, + without you, fastened to my chain, earning money for you while you are + far, away. Go along!” + </p> + <p> + And seizing her daughter by the arm with convulsive strength, she pushed + her roughly; for the first time in her life, repeating, in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “Go away! Leave me alone!” + </p> + <p> + Micheline suffered herself to be put outside the room, and went to her own + apartments astonished and frightened. The young wife had hardly left the + room when Madame Desvarennes suffered the reaction of the emotion she had + just felt. Her nerves were unstrung, and falling on a chair she remained + immovable and humbled. Was it possible that her daughter, her adored + child, would abandon her to obey the grudges of her husband? No, + Micheline, when back in her room, would remember that she was carrying + away all the joy of the house, and that it was cruel to deprive her mother + of her only happiness in life. + </p> + <p> + Slightly reassured, she went down to the office. As she reached the + landing, she saw the Prince’s servants carrying up trunks belonging to + their master to be packed. She felt sick at heart. She understood that + this project had been discussed and settled beforehand. It seemed to her + that all was over; that her daughter was going away forever, and that she + would never see her again. She thought of going to beseech Serge and ask + him what sum he would take in exchange for Micheline’s liberty; but the + haughty and sarcastic face of the Prince forcibly putting the bank-notes + in her hands, passed before her, and she guessed that she would not obtain + anything. Cast down and despairing, she entered her office and set to + work. + </p> + <p> + The next day, by the evening express, the Prince and Princess left for + Nice with all their household, and the mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique + remained silent and deserted. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. A SUDDEN JOURNEY + </h2> + <p> + At the end of the Promenade des Anglais, on the pleasant road bordered + with tamarind-trees, stands, amid a grove of cork-oaks and eucalypti, a + charming white villa with pink shutters. A Russian lady, the Countess + Woreseff, had it built five years ago, and occupied it one winter. Then, + tired of the monotonous noise of the waves beating on the terrace and the + brightness of the calm blue sky, she longed for the mists of her native + country, and suddenly started for St. Petersburg, leaving that charming + residence to be let. + </p> + <p> + It was there, amid rhododendrons and strawberry-trees in full bloom, that + Micheline and Serge had taken up their abode. Until that day the Princess + had scarcely travelled. Her mother, always occupied in commercial + pursuits, had never left Paris. Micheline had remained with her. During + this long journey, accomplished in most luxurious style, she had behaved + like a child astonished at everything, and pleased at the least thing. + With her face close to the window she saw through the transparent darkness + of a lovely winter’s night, villages and forests gliding past like + phantoms. Afar off, in the depths of the country, she caught sight of a + light glimmering, and she loved to picture a family gathered by the fire, + the children asleep and the mother working in the silence. + </p> + <p> + Children! She often thought of them, and never without a sigh of regret + rising to her lips. She had been married for some months, and her dreams + of becoming a mother had not been realized. How happy she would have been + to have a baby, with fair hair, to fondle and kiss! Then the idea of a + child reminded her of her own mother. She thought of the deep love one + must feel for a child. And the image of the mistress, sad and alone, in + the large house of the Rue Saint-Dominique, came to her mind. A vague + remorse seized her heart. She felt she had behaved badly. She said to + herself: “If, to punish me, Heaven will not grant me a child!” She wept, + and soon her grief and trouble vanished with her tears. Sleep overpowered + her, and when she awoke it was broad daylight and they were in Provence. + </p> + <p> + From that moment everything was dazzling. The arrival at Marseilles; the + journey along the coast, the approach to Nice, were all matters of ecstacy + to Micheline. But it was when the carriage, which was waiting for them at + the railway station, stopped at the gates of the villa, that she broke + into raptures. She could not feast her eyes enough on the scene which was + before her. The blue sea, the sky without a cloud, the white houses rising + on the hill amid the dark foliage, and in the distance the mountaintops + covered with snow, and tinged with pink under the brilliant rays of the + sun. All this vigorous and slightly wild nature surprised the Parisienne. + It was a new experience. Dazzled by the light and intoxicated with the + perfumes, a sort of languor came over her. She soon recovered and became + quite strong—something altogether new for her, and she felt + thoroughly happy. + </p> + <p> + The life of the Prince and the Princess became at Nice what it had been in + Paris during the early days of their marriage. Visitors flocked to their + house. All that the colony could reckon of well-known Parisians and + foreigners of high repute presented themselves at the villa. The fetes + recommenced. They gave receptions three times a week; the other evenings + Serge went to the Cercle. + </p> + <p> + This absorbing life had gone on for two months. It was the beginning of + February, and already nature was assuming a new appearance under the + influence of spring. One evening, three people—two gentlemen and a + lady—stepped out of a carriage at the villa gates, and found + themselves face to face with a traveller who had come on foot. Two + exclamations broke out simultaneously. + </p> + <p> + “Marechal!” “Monsieur Savinien!” + </p> + <p> + “You! at Nice? And by what miracle?” + </p> + <p> + “A miracle which makes you travel fifteen leagues an hour in exchange for + a hundred and thirty-three francs first-class, and is called the + Marseilles express!” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, my dear friend. I have not introduced you to Monsieur + and Mademoiselle Herzog.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already had the honor of meeting Mademoiselle Herzog at Madame + Desvarennes’s,” said Marechal, bowing to the young girl, without appearing + to notice the father. + </p> + <p> + “You were going to the villa?” asked Savinien. “We, too, were going. But + how is my aunt? When did you leave her?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not left her.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I say that she is here.” + </p> + <p> + Savinien let his arms drop in profound consternation to show how difficult + it was for him to believe what was going on. Then, in a faint treble + voice, he said: + </p> + <p> + “My aunt! At Nice! Promenade des Anglais! That’s something more wonderful + than the telephone and phonograph! If you had told me that the Pantheon + had landed one fine night on the banks of the Paillon, I should not be + more astonished. I thought Madame Desvarennes was as deeply rooted in + Paris as the Colonne Vendome! But tell me, what is the object of this + journey?” + </p> + <p> + “A freak.” + </p> + <p> + “Which manifested itself—” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday morning at breakfast. Pierre Delarue, who is going to finish + his business in Algeria, and then settle in France, came to say ‘Good-by’ + to Madame Desvarennes. A letter arrived from the Princess. She commenced + reading it, then all at once she exclaimed ‘Cayrol and his wife arrived at + Nice two days ago!’ Pierre and I were astonished at the tone in which she + uttered these words. She was lost in thought for a few moments, then she + said to Pierre: ‘You are leaving tonight for Marseilles? Well, I shall go + with you. You will accompany me to Nice.’ And turning toward me, she + added: ‘Marechal, pack up your portmanteau. I shall take you with me.”’ + </p> + <p> + While speaking, they had walked across the garden, and reached the steps + leading to the villa. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is easier than to explain this sudden journey,” remarked + Mademoiselle Herzog. “On learning that Monsieur and Madame Cayrol were at + Nice with the Princess, Madame Desvarennes must have felt how very lonely + she was in Paris. She had a longing to be near them, and started.” + </p> + <p> + Herzog listened attentively, and seemed to be seeking the connection which + should exist between the arrival of the Cayrols and the departure of + Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + “The funniest thing to me is Marechal taking a holiday,” observed + Savinien. “They are still at dinner,” he added, entering the drawing-room, + through the great doors of which sounds of voices and rattling of plates + were heard. + </p> + <p> + “Well, let us wait for them; we are in agreeable company,” said Herzog, + turning toward Marechal, who only answered by a cold bow. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do here, Marechal?” inquired Savinien. “You will be + awfully bored.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Once in a way I am going to enjoy myself and be a swell. You will + teach me, Monsieur Savinien. It cannot be very difficult. It is only + necessary to wear a dove-colored coat like you, a gardenia in my + buttonhole like Monsieur Le Bride, frizzled hair like Monsieur du + Tremblay, and to assail the bank at Monaco.” + </p> + <p> + “Like all these gentlemen,” said Suzanne, gayly, “you are a gambler then?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never touched a card.” + </p> + <p> + “But then you ought to have great good luck,” said the young girl. + </p> + <p> + Herzog had come up to them. + </p> + <p> + “Will you go partners?” he asked of Marechal. “We will divide the + winnings.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too kind,” replied Marechal, dryly, turning away. + </p> + <p> + He could not get used to Herzog’s familiarity, and there was something in + the man which displeased him greatly. There was, he thought, a + police-court atmosphere about him. + </p> + <p> + Suzanne, on the contrary, interested him. The simple, lively, and frank + young girl attracted him, and he liked to talk with her. On several + occasions, at Madame Desvarennes’s, he had been her partner. There was + through this a certain intimacy between them which he could not extend to + the father. + </p> + <p> + Herzog had that faculty, fortunately for him, of never appearing offended + at what was said to him. He took Savinien’s arm in a familiar manner and + asked: “Have you noticed that the Prince has looked very preoccupied for + the last few days?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t wonder at it,” replied Savinien. “He has been very unlucky at + cards. It is all very well for his wife, my charming cousin, to be rich, + but if he is going on like that it won’t last long!” + </p> + <p> + The two men withdrew to the window. + </p> + <p> + Suzanne went up to Marechal. She had resumed her thoughtful air. He saw + her advancing, and, guessing what she was going to say, felt uncomfortable + at having to tell an untruth if he did not wish to hurt her feelings by + brutal frankness. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Marechal,” she began, “how is it that you are always so cold and + formal with my father?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear young lady, there is a great difference between your father and + me. I keep my place, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl shook her head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “It is not that; you are amiable and ever friendly with me—” + </p> + <p> + “You are a woman, and the least politeness—” + </p> + <p> + “No! My father must have hurt your feelings unwittingly; for he is very + good. I have asked him, and he did not seem to understand what I meant. + But my questions drew his attention to you. He thinks highly of you and + would like to see you filling a position more in harmony with your merit. + You know that Monsieur Cayrol and my father have just launched a + tremendous undertaking?” + </p> + <p> + “The ‘Credit European’?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. They will have offices in all the commercial centres of European + commerce. Would you like the management of one of these branches?” + </p> + <p> + “I, Mademoiselle?” cried Marechal, astonished, and already asking himself + what interest Herzog could have in making him leave the house of + Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + “The enterprise is colossal,” continued Suzanne, “and frightens me at + times. Is it necessary to be so rich? I would like my father to retire + from these enormous speculations into which he has thrown himself, body + and soul. I have simple tastes. My father wishes to make a tremendous + fortune for me, he says. All he undertakes is for me, I know. It seems to + me that he runs a great risk. That is why I am talking to you. I am very + superstitious, and I fancy if you were with us it would bring us luck.” + </p> + <p> + Suzanne, while speaking, had leaned toward Marechal. Her face reflected + the seriousness of her thoughts. Her lovely eyes implored. The young man + asked himself how this charming girl could belong to that horrible Herzog. + </p> + <p> + “Believe me that I am deeply touched, Mademoiselle, by the favor you have + done me,” said he, with emotion. “I owe it solely to your kindness, I + know; but I do not belong to myself. I am bound to Madame Desvarennes by + stronger ties than those of interest—those of gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “You refuse?” she cried, painfully. + </p> + <p> + “I must.” + </p> + <p> + “The position you fill is humble.” + </p> + <p> + “I was very glad to accept it at a time when my daily bread was not + certain.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been reduced,” said the young girl, with trembling voice, “to + such—” + </p> + <p> + “Wretchedness. Yes, Mademoiselle, my outset in life was hard. I am without + relations. Mother Marechal, a kind fruiterer of the Rue Pavee au Marais, + found me one morning by the curbstone, rolled in a number of the + Constitutionnel, like an old pair of boots. The good woman took me home, + brought me up and sent me to college. I must tell you that I was very + successful and gained a scholarship. I won all the prizes. Yes, and I had + to sell my gilt-edged books from the Lycee Charlemagne in the days of + distress. I was eighteen when my benefactress, Mother Marechal, died. I + was without help or succor. I tried to get along by myself. After ten + years of struggling and privations I felt physical and moral vigor giving + way. I looked around me and saw those who overcame obstacles were stronger + than I. I felt that I was doomed not to make way in the world, not being + one of those who could command, so I resigned myself to obey. I fill a + humble position as you know, but one which satisfies my wants. I am + without ambition. A little philosophical, I observe all that goes on + around me. I live happily like Diogenes in his tub.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a wise man,” resumed Suzanne. “I, too, am a philosopher, and I + live amid surroundings which do not please me. I, unfortunately, lost my + mother when I was very young, and although my father is very kind, he has + been obliged to neglect me a little. I see around me people who are + millionaires or who aspire to be. I am doomed to receive the attentions of + such men as Le Bride and Du Tremblay—empty-headed coxcombs, who + court my money, and to whom I am not a woman, but a sack of ducats trimmed + with lace.” + </p> + <p> + “These gentlemen are the modern Argonauts. They are in search of the + Golden Fleece,” observed Marechal. + </p> + <p> + “The Argonauts!” cried Suzanne, laughing. “You are right. I shall never + call them anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they will not understand you!” said Marechal, gayly. “I don’t think + they know much of mythology.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see I am not very happy in the bosom of riches,” continued the + young girl. “Do not abandon me. Come and talk with me sometimes. You will + not chatter trivialities. It will be a change from the others.” + </p> + <p> + And, nodding pleasantly to Marechal, Mademoiselle Herzog joined her + father, who was gleaning details about the house of Desvarennes from + Savinien. + </p> + <p> + The secretary remained silent for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Strange girl!” he murmured. “What a pity she has such a father.” + </p> + <p> + The door of the room in which Monsieur and Mademoiselle Herzog, Marechal + and Savinien were, opened, and Madame Desvarennes entered, followed by her + daughter, Cayrol, Serge and Pierre. The room, at the extreme end of the + villa, was square, surrounded on three sides by a gallery shut in by glass + and stocked with greenhouse plants. Lofty archways, half veiled with + draperies, led to the gallery. This room had been the favorite one of + Countess Woreseff. She had furnished it in Oriental style, with low seats + and large divans, inviting one to rest and dream during the heat of the + day. In the centre of the apartment was a large ottoman, the middle of + which formed a flower-stand. Steps led down from the gallery to the + terrace whence there was a most charming view of sea and land. + </p> + <p> + On seeing his aunt enter, Savinien rushed forward and seized both her + hands. Madame Desvarennes’s arrival was an element of interest in his + unoccupied life. The dandy guessed at some mysterious business and thought + it possible that he might get to know it. With open ears and prying eyes, + he sought the meaning of the least words. + </p> + <p> + “If you knew, my dear aunt, how surprised I am to see you here,” he + exclaimed in his hypocritical way. + </p> + <p> + “Not more so than I am to find myself here,” said she, with a smile. “But, + bah! I have slipped my traces for a week.” + </p> + <p> + “And what are you going to do here?” continued Savinien. + </p> + <p> + “What everybody does. By-the-bye, what do they do?” asked Madame + Desvarennes, with vivacity. + </p> + <p> + “That depends,” answered the Prince. “There are two distinct populations + here. On the one hand, those who take care of themselves; on the other, + those who enjoy themselves. For the former there is the constitutional + every morning in the sun, with slow measured steps on the Promenade des + Anglais. For the latter there are excursions, races, regattas. The first + economize their life like misers; the second waste it like prodigals. Then + night comes on, and the air grows cold. Those who take care of themselves + go home, those who amuse themselves go out. The first put on + dressing-gowns; the second put on ball-dresses. Here, the house is quiet, + lit up by a night-light; there, the rooms sparkle with light, and resound + with the noise of music and dancing. Here they cough, there they laugh. + Infusion on the one hand, punch on the other. In fact, everywhere and + always, a contrast. Nice is at once the saddest and the gayest town. One + dies of over-enjoyment, and one amuses one’s self at the risk of dying.” + </p> + <p> + “A sojourn here is very dangerous, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! aunt, not so dangerous, nor, above all, so amusing as the Prince + says. We are a set of jolly fellows, who kill time between the dining-room + of the hotel, pigeon-shooting, and the Cercle, which is not so very + amusing after all.” + </p> + <p> + “The dining-room is bearable,” said Marechal, “but pigeon-shooting must in + time become—” + </p> + <p> + “We put some interest into the game.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! It is very simple: a gentleman with a gun in his hand stands before + the boxes which contain the pigeons. You say to me: ‘I bet fifty louis + that the bird will fall.’ I answer, ‘Done.’ The gentleman calls out, + ‘Pull;’ the box opens, the pigeon flies, the shot follows. The bird falls + or does not fall. I lose or win fifty louis.” + </p> + <p> + “Most interesting!” exclaimed Mademoiselle Herzog. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” said Savinien with ironical indifference, “it takes the place of + ‘trente et quarante,’ and is better than ‘odd or even’ on the numbers of + the cabs which pass.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do the pigeons say to that?” asked Pierre, seriously. + </p> + <p> + “They are not consulted,” said Serge, gayly. + </p> + <p> + “Then there are races and regattas,” continued Savinien. + </p> + <p> + “In which case you bet on the horses?” interrupted Marechal. + </p> + <p> + “Or on the boats.” + </p> + <p> + “In fact, betting is applied to all circumstances of life?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly; and to crown all, we have the Cercle, where we go in the + evening. Baccarat triumphs there. It is not very varied either: A hundred + louis? Done—Five. I draw. There are some people who draw at five. + Nine, I show up, I win or I lose, and the game continues.” + </p> + <p> + “And that amid the glare of gas and the smoke of tobacco,” said Marechal, + “when the nights are so splendid and the orange-trees smell so sweetly. + What a strange existence!” + </p> + <p> + “An existence for idiots, Marechal,” sighed Savinien, “that I, a man of + business, must submit to, through my aunt’s domineering ways! You know now + how men of pleasure spend their lives, my friend, and you might write a + substantial resume entitled, ‘The Fool’s Breviary.’ I am sure it would + sell well.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, who had heard the last words, was no longer listening. + She was lost in a deep reverie. She was much altered since grief and + trouble had come upon her; her face was worn, her temples hollow, her chin + was more prominent. Her eyes had sunk into her head, and were surrounded + by dark rims. + </p> + <p> + Serge, leaning against the wall near the window, was observing her. He was + wondering with secret anxiety what had brought Madame Desvarennes so + suddenly to his house after a separation of two months, during which time + she had scarcely written to Micheline. Was the question of money to be + resumed? Since the morning Madame had been smiling, calm and pleased like + a schoolgirl home for her holidays. This was the first time she had + allowed a sad expression to rest on her face. Her gayety was feigned then. + </p> + <p> + A look crossing his made him start. Jeanne had just turned her eyes toward + him. For a second they met his own. Serge could not help shuddering. + Jeanne was calling his attention to Madame Desvarennes; she, too, was + observing her. Was it on their account she had come to Nice? Had their + secret fallen into her hands? He resolved to find out. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne had turned away her eyes from him. He could feast his on her now. + She had become more beautiful. The tone of her complexion had become + warmer. Her figure had developed. Serge longed to call her his own. For a + moment his hands trembled; his throat was dry, his heart seemed to stop + beating. + </p> + <p> + He tried to shake off this attraction, and walked to the centre of the + room. At the same time visitors were announced. Le Bride, with his + inseparable friend, Du Tremblay, escorting Lady Harton, Serge’s beautiful + cousin, who had caused Micheline some anxiety on the day of her marriage, + but whom she no longer feared; then the Prince and Princess Odescalchi, + Venetian nobles, followed by Monsieur Clement Souverain, a young Belgian, + starter of the Nice races, a great pigeon shot, and a mad leader of + cotillons. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me! my lady, all in black?” said Micheline, pointing to the + tight-fitting black satin worn by the English beauty. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear Princess; mourning,” replied Lady Harton, with a vigorous + shake of the hands. “Ball-room mourning—one of my best partners; + gentlemen, you know Harry Tornwall?” + </p> + <p> + “Countess Alberti’s cavalier?” added Serge. “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well! he has just killed himself.” + </p> + <p> + A concert of exclamations arose in the drawing-room, and the visitors + suddenly surrounded her. + </p> + <p> + “What! did you not know? It was the sole topic of conversation at Monaco + to-day. Poor Tornwall, being completely cleared out, went during the night + to the park belonging to the villa occupied by Countess Alberti, and blew + his brains out under her window.” + </p> + <p> + “How dreadful!” exclaimed Micheline. + </p> + <p> + “It was very bad taste on your countryman’s part,” observed Serge. + </p> + <p> + “The Countess was furious, and said that Tornwall’s coming to her house to + kill himself proved clearly to her that he did not know how to behave.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish to prevent those who are cleared out from blowing out their + brains?” inquired Cayrol. “Compel the pawnbrokers of Monaco to lend a + louis on all pistols.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” retorted young Monsieur Souverain, “when the louis is lost the + players will still be able to hang themselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” concluded Marechal, “then at any rate the rope will bring luck to + others.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, do you know that what you have been relating to us is very + doleful?” said Suzanne Herzog. “Suppose, to vary our impressions, you were + to ask us to waltz?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, on the terrace,” said Le Brede, warmly. “A curtain of orange-trees + will protect us from the vulgar gaze.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Mademoiselle, what a dream!” sighed Du Tremblay, approaching Suzanne. + “Waltzing with you! By moonlight.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, friend Pierrot!” sang Suzanne, bursting into a laugh. + </p> + <p> + Already the piano, vigorously attacked by Pierre, desirous of making + himself useful since he could not be agreeable, was heard in the next + room. Serge had slowly approached Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me the favor of dancing with me?” he asked, softly. + </p> + <p> + The young woman started; her cheeks became pale, and in a sharp tone she + answered: + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you ask your wife?” + </p> + <p> + Serge smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You or nobody.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne raised her eyes boldly, and looking at him in the face, said, + defiantly: + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, nobody!” + </p> + <p> + And, rising, she took the arm of Cayrol, who was advancing toward her. + </p> + <p> + The Prince remained motionless for a moment, following them with his eyes. + Then, seeing his wife alone with Madame Desvarennes, he went out on the + terrace. Already the couples were dancing on the polished marble. Joyful + bursts of laughter rose in the perfumed air that sweet March night. A deep + sorrow came over Serge; an intense disgust with all things. The sea + sparkled, lit up by the moon. He had a mad longing to seize Jeanne in his + arms and carry her far away from the world, across that immense calm space + which seemed made expressly to rock sweetly eternal loves. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER + </h2> + <p> + Micheline intended following her husband, but Madame Desvarennes, without + rising, took hold of her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Stay with me for a little while,” she said, tenderly. “We have scarcely + exchanged ten words since my arrival. Come, tell me, are you pleased to + see me?” + </p> + <p> + “How can you ask me that?” answered Micheline, seating herself on the sofa + beside her mother. + </p> + <p> + “I ask you so that you may tell me so,” resumed Madame Desvarennes, + softly. “I know what you think, but that is not enough.” She added + pleadingly: + </p> + <p> + “Kiss me, will you?” + </p> + <p> + Micheline threw her arms round her mother’s neck, saying, “Dear mamma!” + which made tears spring to the tortured mother’s eyes. She folded + her-daughter in her arms, and clasped her as a miser holds his treasure. + </p> + <p> + “It is a long time since I have heard you speak thus to me. Two months! + And I have been desolate in that large house you used to fill alone in the + days gone by.” + </p> + <p> + The young wife interrupted her mother, reproachfully: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! mamma; I beg you to be reasonable.” + </p> + <p> + “To be reasonable? In other words, I suppose you mean that I am to get + accustomed to living without you, after having for twenty years devoted my + life to you? Bear, without complaining, that my happiness should be taken + away, and now that I am old lead a life without aim, without joy, without + trouble even, because I know if you had any troubles you would not tell + me!” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s pause. Then Micheline, in a constrained manner, said: + </p> + <p> + “What griefs could I have?” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes lost all patience, and giving vent to her feelings + exclaimed, bitterly: + </p> + <p> + “Those which your husband causes you!” + </p> + <p> + Micheline arose abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + But the mistress had commenced, and with unrestrained bitterness, went on: + </p> + <p> + “That gentleman has behaved toward me in such a manner as to shake my + confidence in him! After vowing that he would never separate you from me, + he brought you here, knowing that I could not leave Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “You are unjust,” retorted Micheline. “You know the doctors ordered me to + go to Nice.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! You can make doctors order you anything you like!” resumed her + mother, excitedly, and shaking her head disdainfully. “Your husband said + to our good Doctor Rigaud: ‘Don’t you think that a season in the South + would do my wife good?’ The doctor answered: ‘If it does not do her any + good it certainly won’t do her any harm.’ Then your husband added, ‘just + take a sheet of paper and write out a prescription. You understand? It is + for my mother-in-law, who will not be pleased at our going away.’” + </p> + <p> + And as Micheline seemed to doubt what she was saying, the latter added: + </p> + <p> + “The doctor told me when I went to see him about it. I never had much + faith in doctors, and now—” + </p> + <p> + Micheline felt she was on delicate ground, and wanted to change the + subject. She soothed her mother as in days gone by, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Come, mamma; will you never be able to get used to your part? Must you + always be jealous? You know all wives leave their mothers to follow their + husbands. It is the law of nature. You, in your day, remember, followed + your husband, and your mother must have wept.” + </p> + <p> + “Did my mother love me as I love you?” asked Madame Desvarennes, + impetuously. “I was brought up differently. We had not time to love each + other so much. We had to work. The happiness of spoiling one’s child is a + privilege of the rich. For you there was no down warm enough or silk soft + enough to line your cradle. You have been petted and worshipped for twenty + years. Yet, it only needed a man, whom you scarcely knew six months ago, + to make you forget everything.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not forgotten anything,” replied Micheline, moved by these + passionate expressions. “And in my heart you still hold the same place.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress looked at the young wife, then, in a sad tone, said: + </p> + <p> + “It is no longer the first place.” + </p> + <p> + This simple, selfish view made Micheline smile. + </p> + <p> + “It is just like you, you tyrant!” she exclaimed. “You must be first. + Come, be satisfied with equality! Remember that you were first in the + field, and that for twenty years I have loved you, while he has to make up + for lost time. Don’t try to make a comparison between my love for him and + my affection for you. Be kind: instead of looking black at him, try to + love him. I should be so happy to see you united, and to be able, without + reservation, to think of you both with the same tenderness!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! how you talk me over. How charming and caressing you can be when you + like. And how happy Serge ought to be with a wife like you! It is always + the way; men like him always get the best wives.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t suppose, mamma, you came all the way from Paris to run down my + husband to me.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes became serious again. + </p> + <p> + “No; I came to defend you.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline looked surprised. + </p> + <p> + “It is time for me to speak. You are seriously menaced,” continued the + mother. + </p> + <p> + “In my love?” asked the young wife, in an altered tone. + </p> + <p> + “No; in your fortune.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline smiled superbly. + </p> + <p> + “If that be all!” + </p> + <p> + This indifference made her mother positively jump. + </p> + <p> + “You speak very coolly about it! At the rate your husband is spending, + there will be nothing left of your dowry in six months.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” said the Princess, gayly, “you will give us another.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes assumed her cold businesslike manner. + </p> + <p> + “Ta! ta! ta! Do you think there is no limit to my resources? I gave you + four millions when you were married, represented by fifteen hundred + thousand francs, in good stock, a house in the Rue de Rivoli, and eight + hundred thousand francs which I prudently kept in the business, and for + which I pay you interest. The fifteen hundred thousand francs have + vanished. My lawyer came to tell me that the house in the Rue de Rivoli + had been sold without a reinvestment taking place.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress stopped. She had spoken in that frank, determined, way of + hers that was part of her strength. She looked fixedly at Micheline, and + asked: + </p> + <p> + “Did you know this, my girl?” + </p> + <p> + The Princess, deeply troubled, because now it was not a question of + sentiment, but of serious moment, answered, in a low tone: + </p> + <p> + “No, mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that possible?” Madame Desvarennes demanded, hotly. “Nothing can + be done without your signature.” + </p> + <p> + “I gave it,” murmured Micheline. + </p> + <p> + “You gave it!” repeated the mistress in a tone of anger. “When?” + </p> + <p> + “The day after my marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband had the impudence to ask for it the day after your + marriage?” + </p> + <p> + Micheline smiled. + </p> + <p> + “He did not ask for it, mamma,” she replied, with sweetness; “I offered it + to him. You had settled all on me.” + </p> + <p> + “Prudently! With a fellow like your husband!” + </p> + <p> + “Your mistrust must have been humiliating to him. I was ashamed of it. I + said nothing to you, because I knew you would rather prevent the marriage, + and I loved Serge. I, therefore, signed the contract which you had had + prepared. Only the next day I gave a general power of attorney to my + husband.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes’s anger was over. She was observing Micheline, and + wished to find out the depth of the abyss into which her daughter had + thrown herself with blind confidence. + </p> + <p> + “And what did he say then?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” answered Micheline, simply. “Tears came to his eyes, and he + kissed me. I saw that this delicacy touched his heart and I was happy. + There, mamma,” she added with eyes sparkling at the remembrance of the + pleasure she had experienced, “he may spend as much as he likes; I am + amply repaid beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes shrugged her shoulders, and said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear child, you are mad enough to be locked up. What is there about + the fellow to turn every woman’s brain?” + </p> + <p> + “Every woman’s?” exclaimed Micheline, anxiously, looking at her mother. + </p> + <p> + “That is a manner of speaking. But, my dear, you must understand that I + cannot be satisfied with what you have just told me. A tear and a kiss! + Bah! That is not worth your dowry.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, mamma, do let me be happy.” + </p> + <p> + “You can be happy without committing follies. You do not need a + racing-stable.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he has chosen such pretty colors,” interrupted Micheline, with a + smile. “Pearl-gray and silver, and pink cap. It is charming!” + </p> + <p> + “You think so? Well, you are not difficult to please. And the club? What + do you say to his gambling?” + </p> + <p> + Micheline turned pale, and with a constraint which hurt her mother, said: + </p> + <p> + “Is it necessary to make a fuss about a few games at bouillotte?” + </p> + <p> + This continual defense of Serge exasperated Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk to me,” she continued, violently. “I am well informed on that + subject. He leaves you alone every evening to go and play with gentlemen + who turn up the king with a dexterity the Legitimists must envy. My dear, + shall I tell you his fortune? He commenced with cards; he continues with + horses; he will finish with worthless women!” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma!” cried Micheline, wounded to the heart. + </p> + <p> + “And your money will pay the piper! But, happily, I am here to put your + household matters right. I am going to keep your gentleman so well under + that in future he will walk straight, I’ll warrant you!” + </p> + <p> + Micheline rose and stood before her mother, looking so pale that the + latter was frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” she said, in trembling tones, “if ever you say one word to my + husband, take care! I shall never see you again!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes flinched before her daughter. It was no longer the weak + Micheline who trusted to her tears, but a vehement woman ready to defend + him whom she loved. And as she remained silent, not daring to speak again: + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” continued Micheline, with sadness, yet firmly, “this explanation + was inevitable; I have suffered beforehand, knowing that I should have to + choose between my affection for my husband and my respect for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Between the one and the other,” said the mistress, bitterly, “you don’t + hesitate, I see.” + </p> + <p> + “It is my duty; and if I failed in it, you yourself, with your good sense, + would see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Micheline, could I have expected to find you thus?” cried the mother, + in despair. “What a change! It is not you who are speaking; it is not my + daughter. Fool that you are! Don’t you see whither you are being led? You, + yourself, are preparing your own misfortune. Don’t think that my words are + inspired by jealousy. A higher sentiment dictates them, and at this moment + my maternal love gives me, I fear, a foresight of the future. There is + only just time to rescue you from the danger into which you are running. + You hope to retain your husband by your generosity? There where you think + you are giving proofs of love he will only see proofs of weakness. If you + make yourself cheap he will count you as nothing. If you throw yourself at + his feet he will trample on you.” + </p> + <p> + The Princess shook her head haughtily, and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know him, mamma. He is a gentleman; he understands all these + delicacies, and there is more to be gained by submitting one’s self to his + discretion, than by trying to resist his will. You blame his manner of + existence, but you don’t understand him. I know him. He belongs to a + different race than you and I. He needs refinements of luxury which would + be useless to us, but the deprivation of which would be hard to him. He + suffered much when he was poor, he is making up for it now. We are guilty + of some extravagances, ‘tis true; but what does it matter? For whom have + you made a fortune? For me! For what object? My happiness! Well, I am + happy to surround my Prince with the glory and pomp which suits him so + well. He is grateful to me; he loves me, and I hold his love dearer than + all else in the world; for if ever he ceases to love me I shall die!” + </p> + <p> + “Micheline!” cried Madame Desvarennes, beside herself, and seizing her + daughter with nervous strength. + </p> + <p> + The young wife quietly allowed her fair head to fall on her mother’s + shoulder, and whispered faintly in her ear: + </p> + <p> + “You don’t want to wreck my life. I understand your displeasure. It is + natural; I feel it. You cannot think otherwise than you do, being a + simple, hardworking woman; but I beg of you to banish all hatred, and + confine these ideas within yourself. Say nothing more about them for love + of me!” + </p> + <p> + The mother was vanquished. She had never been able to resist that + suppliant voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! cruel child,” she moaned, “what pain you are causing me!” + </p> + <p> + “You consent, don’t you, dear mother?” murmured Micheline, falling into + the arms of her by whom she knew she was adored. + </p> + <p> + “I will do as you wish,” said Madame Desvarennes, kissing her daughter’s + hair—that golden hair which, in former days, she loved to stroke. + </p> + <p> + The strains of the piano sounded on the terrace. In the shade, groups of + merry dancers were enjoying themselves. Happy voices were heard + approaching, and Savinien, followed by Marechal and Suzanne, came briskly + up the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, aunt, it is not fair,” said the dandy. “If you have come here to + monopolize Micheline, you will be sent back to Paris. We want a vis-a-vis + for a quadrille. Come, Princess, it is delightfully cool outside, and I am + sure you will enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Le Brede has gathered some oranges, and is trying to play at cup + and ball with them on his nose, while his friend, Monsieur du Tremblay, + jealous of his success, talks of illuminating the trees with bowls of + punch,” said Marechal. + </p> + <p> + “And what is Serge doing?” inquired Micheline, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “He is talking to my wife on the terrace,” said Cayrol, appearing in the + gallery. + </p> + <p> + The young people went off and were lost in the darkness. Madame + Desvarennes looked at Cayrol. He was happy and calm. There was no trace of + his former jealousy. During the six months which had elapsed since his + marriage, the banker had observed his wife closely, her actions, her + words: nothing had escaped him. He had never found her at fault. Thus, + reassured, he had given her his confidence and this time forever. Jeanne + was adorable; he loved her more than ever. She seemed very much changed to + him. Her disposition, formerly somewhat harsh, had softened, and the + haughty, capricious girl had become a mild, demure, and somewhat serious + woman. Unable to read his companion’s thoughts, Cayrol sincerely believed + that he had been unnecessarily anxious, and that Jeanne’s troubles had + only been passing fancies. He took credit of the change in his wife to + himself, and was proud of it. + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol, oblige me by removing that lamp; it hurts my eyes,” said Madame + Desvarennes, anxious that the traces on her face, caused by her late + discussion with her daughter, should not be visible. “Then ask Jeanne to + come here for a few minutes. I have something to say to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Cayrol, taking the lamp off the table and carrying it + into the adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + Darkness did Madame Desvarennes good. It refreshed her mind and calmed her + brow. The noise of dancing reached her. She commenced thinking. So it had + vainly tried to prove to her that a life of immoderate pleasure was not + conducive to happiness. The young wife had stopped her ears so that she + might not hear, and closed her eyes that she might not see. Her mother + asked herself if she did not exaggerate the evil. Alas! no. She saw that + she was not mistaken. Examining the society around her, men and women: + everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity. You might + rummage through their brains without finding one practical idea; in all + their hearts, there was not one lofty aspiration. These people, in their + daily life were like squirrels in a cage, and because they moved, they + thought they were progressing. In them scepticism had killed belief; + religion, family, country, were, as they phrased it, all humbug. They had + only one aim, one passion—to enjoy themselves. Their watchword was + “pleasure.” All those who did not perish of consumption would die in + lunatic asylums. + </p> + <p> + What was she doing in the midst of this rottenness? She, the woman of + business? Could she hope to regenerate these poor wretches by her example? + No! She could not teach them to be good, and they excelled in teaching + others harm. She must leave this gilded vice, taking with her those she + loved, and leave the idle and incompetent to consume and destroy + themselves. + </p> + <p> + She felt disgusted, and resolved to do all to tear Micheline away from the + contagion. In the meantime she must question Jeanne. A shadow appeared on + the threshold: it was hers. In the darkness of the gallery Serge crept + behind her without being seen. He had been watching Jeanne, and seeing her + go away alone, had followed her. In the angle of the large bay-window, + opening into the garden, he waited with palpitating heart. Madame + Desvarennes’s voice was heard in the silence of the drawing-room; he + listened. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Jeanne; our interview will be short, and it could not be + delayed, for to-morrow I shall not be here.” + </p> + <p> + “You are leaving so soon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I only left Paris on my daughter’s account, and on yours. My + daughter knows what I had to tell her; now it is your turn! Why did you + come to Nice?” + </p> + <p> + “I could not do otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “Because?” + </p> + <p> + “Because my husband wished it.” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have made him wish something else. Your power over him is + absolute.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s pause. Then Jeanne answered: + </p> + <p> + “I feared to insist lest I should awaken his suspicions.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! But admitting that you came to Nice, why accept hospitality in this + house?” + </p> + <p> + “Micheline offered it to us,” said Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “And even that did not make you refuse. What part do you purpose playing + here? After six months of honesty, are you going to change your mind?” + </p> + <p> + Serge, behind his shelter, shuddered. Madame Desvarennes’s words were + clear. She knew all. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne’s voice was indignant when she replied: + </p> + <p> + “By what right do you insult me by such a suspicion?” + </p> + <p> + “By the right which you have given me in not keeping to your bargain. You + ought to have kept out of the way, and I find you here, seeking danger and + already trying those flirtations which are the forerunners of sin, and + familiarizing yourself with evil before wholly giving yourself up to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame!” cried Jeanne, passionately. + </p> + <p> + “Answer! Have you kept the promise you made me?” + </p> + <p> + “Have the hopes which you held out to me been realized?” replied Jeanne, + with despair. “For six months I have been away, and have I found peace of + mind and heart? The duty which you pointed out to me as a remedy for the + pain which tortured me I have fruitlessly followed. I have wept, hoping + that the trouble within me would be washed away with my tears. I have + prayed to Heaven, and asked that I might love my husband. But, no! That + man is as odious to me as ever. Now I have lost all my illusions, and find + myself joined to him for the rest of my days! I have to tell lies, to wear + a mask, to smile! It is revolting, and I suffer! Now that you know what is + passing within me, judge, and say whether your reproaches are not a + useless cruelty.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing Jeanne, Madame Desvarennes felt herself moved with deep pity. + She asked herself whether it was not unjust for that poor child to suffer + so much. She had never done anything wrong, and her conduct was worthy of + esteem. + </p> + <p> + “Unhappy woman!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, unhappy, indeed,” resumed Jeanne, “because I have nothing to cling + to, nothing to sustain me. My mind is afflicted with feverish thoughts, my + heart made desolate with bitter regrets. My will alone protects me, and in + a moment of weakness it may betray me.” + </p> + <p> + “You still love him?” asked Madame Desvarennes, in a deep voice which made + Serge quiver. + </p> + <p> + “Do I know? There are times when I think I hate him. What I have endured + since I have been here is incredible! Everything galls me, irritates me. + My husband is blind, Micheline unsuspicious, and Serge smiles quietly, as + if he were preparing some treachery. Jealousy, anger, contempt, are all + conflicting within me. I feel that I ought to go away, and still I feel a + horrible delight in remaining.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor child!” said Madame Desvarennes. “I pity you from my soul. Forgive + my unjust words; you have done all in your power. You have had momentary + weaknesses like all human beings. You must be helped, and may rely on me. + I will speak to your husband to-morrow; he shall take you away. Lacking + happiness, you must have peace. Go you are a brave heart, and if Heaven be + just, you will be rewarded.” + </p> + <p> + Serge heard the sound of a kiss. In an embrace, the mother had blessed her + adopted daughter. Then the Prince saw Madame Desvarennes go slowly past + him. And the silence was broken only by the sobs of Jeanne who was half + lying on the sofa in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. THE TELLTALE KISS + </h2> + <p> + Serge slipped from his hiding-place and came toward Jeanne. The carpet + deadened the sound of his steps. The young woman was gazing into vacancy + and breathing with difficulty. He looked at her for a moment without + speaking; then, leaning over her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Is it true, Jeanne,” he murmured, softly, “that you hate me?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne arose, bewildered, exclaiming, + </p> + <p> + “Serge!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Serge,” answered the Prince, “who has never ceased to love you.” + </p> + <p> + A deep blush spread over the young woman’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Leave me,” she said. “Your language is unworthy of a man. I will not + listen to you.” + </p> + <p> + And with a quick step she walked toward the gallery. Serge threw himself + in her way, saying: + </p> + <p> + “You must stop; you cannot escape me.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is madness,” exclaimed Jeanne, moving away. “Do you forget where + we are?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you forget what you have just been saying?” retorted Serge. “I was + there; I did not miss a word.” + </p> + <p> + “If you heard me,” said Jeanne, “you know that everything separates us. My + duty, yours, and my will.” + </p> + <p> + “A will which is enforced, and against which your heart rebels. A will to + which I will not submit.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, Serge advanced toward her, trying to seize her in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Take care!” replied Jeanne. “Micheline and my husband are there. You must + be mad to forget it. If you come a step farther I shall call out.” + </p> + <p> + “Call, then!” cried Serge, clasping her in his arms. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne tried to free herself from him, but could not. + </p> + <p> + “Serge,” she said, paling with mingled anguish and rapture in the arms of + him whom she adored, “what you are doing is cowardly and base!” + </p> + <p> + A kiss stopped the words on her lips. Jeanne felt herself giving way. She + made a supreme effort. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t, Serge!” she stammered. “Have mercy!” + </p> + <p> + Tears of shame rolled down her face. + </p> + <p> + “No! you belong to me. The other, your husband, stole you from me. I take + you back. I love you!” + </p> + <p> + The young woman fell on a seat. + </p> + <p> + Serge repeated, + </p> + <p> + “I love you! I love you! I love you!” + </p> + <p> + A fearful longing took possession of Jeanne. She no longer pushed away the + arms which clasped her. She placed her hands on Serge’s shoulder, and with + a deep sigh gave herself up. + </p> + <p> + A profound silence reigned around. Suddenly a sound of approaching voices + roused them, and at the same moment the heavy curtain which separated the + room from the adjoining drawing-room was lifted. A shadow appeared on the + threshold, as they were still in each other’s arms. The stifled + exclamation, “O God!” followed by a sob of agony, resounded. The door + curtain fell, surrounding with its folds the unknown witness of that + terrible scene. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne had risen, trying to collect her ideas. A sudden light dawned on + her mind; she realized in a moment the extent of her crime, and uttering a + cry of horror and despair, she escaped, followed by Serge, through the + gallery. + </p> + <p> + Then the heavy curtain was lifted again, and tottering, livid, almost + dead, Micheline entered the room. Pierre, serious and cold, walked behind + her. The Princess, feeling tired, had come into the house. Chance had led + her there to witness this proof of misfortune and treason. + </p> + <p> + Both she and Delarue looked at each other, silent and overwhelmed. Their + thoughts whirled through their brains with fearful rapidity. In a moment + they looked back on their existence. He saw the pale betrothed of whom he + had dreamed as a wife, who had willingly given herself to another, and who + now found herself so cruelly punished. She measured the distance which + separated these two men: the one good, loyal, generous; the other selfish, + base, and unworthy. And seeing him whom she adored, so vile and base + compared to him whom she had disdained, Micheline burst into bitter tears. + </p> + <p> + Pierre tremblingly hastened toward her. The Princess made a movement to + check him, but she saw on the face of her childhood’s friend such sincere + grief and honest indignation, that she felt as safe, with him as if he had + really been her brother. Overcome, she let her head fall on his shoulder, + and wept. + </p> + <p> + The sound of approaching footsteps made Micheline arise. She recognized + her husband’s step, and hastily seizing Pierre’s hand, said: + </p> + <p> + “Never breathe a word; forget what you have seen.” + </p> + <p> + Then, with deep grief, she added: + </p> + <p> + “If Serge knew that I had seen him unawares he would never forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + Drying her tears, and still tottering from the shock, she left the room. + Pierre remained alone, quite stunned; pitying, yet blaming the poor woman, + who, in her outraged love, still had the absurd courage to hold her tongue + and to resign herself. Anger seized on him, and the more timid Micheline + seemed herself, the more violent and passionate he felt. + </p> + <p> + Serge came back to the room. After the first moment of excitement, he had + reflected, and wanted to know by whom he had been observed. Was it Madame + Desvarennes, Micheline, or Cayrol, who had come in? At this idea he + trembled, measuring the possible results of the imprudence he had been + guilty of. He resolved to face the difficulty if it were either of these + three interested parties, and to impose silence if he had to deal with an + indifferent person. He took the lamp which Madame Desvarennes had a short + time before asked Cayrol to remove and went into the room. Pierre was + there alone. + </p> + <p> + The two men measured each other with their looks. Delarue guessed the + anxiety of Serge, and the Prince understood the hostility of Pierre. He + turned pale. + </p> + <p> + “It was you who came in?” he asked, boldly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Pierre, with severity. + </p> + <p> + The Prince hesitated for a second. He was evidently seeking a polite form + to express his request. He did not find one, and in a threatening manner, + he resumed: + </p> + <p> + “You must hold your tongue, otherwise—” + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise?” inquired Pierce, aggressively. + </p> + <p> + “What is the use of threats?” replied Serge, already calmed. “Excuse me; I + know that you will not tell; if not for my sake at least for that of + others.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for others,” said Pierre, passionately; “for others whom you have + basely sacrificed, and who deserve all your respect and love; for Madame + Desvarennes, whose high intelligence you have not been able to understand; + for Micheline, whose tender heart you have not been able to appreciate. + Yes, for their sakes I will hold my peace, not out of regard for you, + because you neither deserve consideration nor esteem.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince advanced a step, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Pierre!” + </p> + <p> + Pierre did not move, and looking Serge in the face, continued: + </p> + <p> + “The truth is unpleasant to you, still you must hear it. You act according + to your fancies. Principles and morals, to which all men submit, are dead + letters to you. Your own pleasure above all things, and always! That is + your rule, eh? and so much the worse if ruin and trouble to others are the + consequences? You only have to deal with two women, and you profit by it. + But I warn you that if you continue to crush them I will be their + defender.” + </p> + <p> + Serge had listened to all this with disdainful impassibility, and when + Pierre had finished, he smiled, snapped his fingers, and turning toward + the young man: + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” said he, “allow me to tell you that I think you are very + impertinent. You come here meddling with my affairs. What authority have + you? Are you a relative? A connection? By what right do you preach this + sermon?” + </p> + <p> + As he concluded, Serge seated himself and laughed with a careless air. + </p> + <p> + Pierre answered, gravely: + </p> + <p> + “I was betrothed to Micheline when she saw and loved you: that is my + right! I could have married her, but sacrificed my love to hers: that is + my authority! And it is in the name of my shattered hopes and lost + happiness that I call you to account for her future peace.” + </p> + <p> + Serge had risen, he was deeply embittered at what Delarue had just told + him, and was trying to recover his calmness. Pierre, trembling with + emotion and anger, was also striving to check their influence. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” said the Prince, mockingly, “that in your claim there is + more than the outcry of an irritated conscience; it is the complaint of a + heart that still loves.” + </p> + <p> + “And if that were so?” retorted Pierre. “Yes, I love her, but with a pious + love, from the depth of my soul, as one would love a saint; and I only + suffer the more to see her suffering.” + </p> + <p> + Somewhat irritated the Prince exclaimed, impatiently: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t let us have a lyric recitation; let us be brief and clear. What + do you want? Explain yourself. I don’t suppose that you have addressed + this rebuke to me solely for the purpose of telling me that you are in + love with my wife!” + </p> + <p> + Pierre disregarded what was insulting in the Prince’s answer, and calming + himself, by force of will, replied: + </p> + <p> + “I desire, since you ask me, that you forget the folly and error of a + moment, and that you swear to me on your honor never to see Madame Cayrol + again.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre’s moderation wounded the Prince more than his rage had affected + him. He felt petty beside this devoted friend, who only thought of the + happiness of her whom he loved without hope. His temper increased. + </p> + <p> + “And what if I refuse to lend myself to those whims which you express so + candidly?” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Pierre, resolutely, “I shall remember that, when renouncing + Micheline, I promised to be a brother to her, and if you compel me I will + defend her.” + </p> + <p> + “You are threatening me, I think,” cried Serge, beside himself. + </p> + <p> + “No! I warn you.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough,” said the Prince, scarcely able to command himself. “For any + little service you have rendered me, from henceforth we are quits. Don’t + think that I am one of those who yield to violence. Keep out of my path; + it will be prudent.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, then, to this. I am not one of those who shirk a duty, whatever + the peril be in accomplishing it. You know what price I put on Micheline’s + happiness; you are responsible for it, and I shall oblige you to respect + it.” + </p> + <p> + And leaving Serge dumb with suppressed rage, Pierre went out on the + terrace. + </p> + <p> + On the high road the sound of the carriages bearing away Savinien, Herzog + and his daughter, resounded in the calm starry night. In the villa + everything was quiet. Pierre breathed with delight; he instinctively + turned his eyes toward the brilliant sky, and in the far-off firmament, + the star which he appropriated to himself long ago, and which he had so + desperately looked for when he was unhappy, suddenly appeared bright and + twinkling. He sighed and moved on. + </p> + <p> + The Prince spent a part of the night at the club; he was excessively + nervous, and after alternate losses and gains, he retired, carrying off a + goodly sum from his opponents. It was a long time since he had been so + lucky, and on his way home he smiled when he thought how false was the + proverb, “Lucky at play, unlucky in love.” He thought of that adorable + Jeanne whom he had held in his arms a few hours before, and who had so + eagerly clung to him. He understood that she had never ceased to belong to + him. The image of Cayrol, self-confident man, happy in his love, coming to + his mind, caused Serge to laugh. + </p> + <p> + There was no thought for Micheline; she had been the stepping-stone to + fortune for him; he knew that she was gentle and thought her not very + discerning. He could easily deceive her; with a few caresses and a little + consideration he could maintain the illusion of his love for her. Madame + Desvarennes alone inconvenienced him in his arrangements. She was + sagacious, and on several occasions he had seen her unveil plots which he + thought were well contrived. He must really beware of her. He had often + noticed in her voice and look an alarming hardness. She was not a woman to + be afraid of a scandal. On the contrary, she would hail it with joy, and + be happy to get rid of him whom she hated with all her might. + </p> + <p> + In spite of himself, Serge remembered the night of his union to Micheline, + when he had said to Madame Desvarennes: “Take my life; it is yours!” She + had replied seriously, and almost threateningly: “Very well; I accept it!” + These words now resounded in his ears like a verdict. He promised himself + to play a sure game with Madame Desvarennes. As to Cayrol, he was out of + the question; he had only been created as a plaything for princes such as + Serge; his destiny was written on his forehead, and he could not escape. + If it had not been Panine, some one else would have done the same thing + for him. Besides, how could that ex-cowherd expect to keep such a woman as + Jeanne was to himself. It would have been manifestly unfair. + </p> + <p> + The Prince found his valet asleep in the hall. He went quickly to his + bedroom, and slept soundly without remorse, without dreams, until noon. + Coming down to breakfast, he found the family assembled. Savinien had come + to see his aunt, before whom he wanted to place a “colossal idea.” This + time, he said, it was worth a fortune. He hoped to draw six thousand + francs from the mistress who, according to her usual custom, could not + fail to buy from him what he called his idea. + </p> + <p> + The dandy was thoughtful; he was preparing his batteries. Micheline, pale, + and her eyes red for want of rest, was seated near the gallery, silently + watching the sea, on which were passing, in the distance, fishing-smacks + with their sails looking like white-winged birds. Madame Desvarennes was + serious, and was giving Marechal instructions respecting her + correspondence, while at the same time watching her daughter out of the + corner of her eye. Micheline’s depressed manner caused her some anxiety; + she guessed some mystery. Still the young wife’s trouble might be the + result of last evening’s serious interview. But the sagacity of the + mistress guessed a new incident. Perhaps some scene between Serge and + Micheline in regard to the club. She was on the watch. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol and Jeanne had gone for a drive to Mentone. With a single glance + the Prince took in the attitude of one and all, and after a polite + exchange of words and a careless kiss on Micheline’s brow, he seated + himself at table. The repast was silent. Each one seemed preoccupied. + Serge anxiously asked himself whether Pierre had spoken. Marechal, deeply + interested in his plate, answered briefly, when addressed by Madame + Desvarennes. All the guests seemed constrained. It was a relief when they + rose from the table. + </p> + <p> + Micheline took her husband’s arm and leading him into the garden, under + the shade of the magnolias, said to him: + </p> + <p> + “My mother leaves us to-night. She has received a letter recalling her to + Paris. Her journey here was, you no doubt know, on our account. Our + absence made her sad, and she could no longer refrain from seeing me, so + she came. On her return to Paris she will feel very lonely, and as I am so + often alone—” + </p> + <p> + “Micheline!” interrupted Serge, with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “It is not a reproach, dear,” continued the young wife, sweetly. “You have + your engagements. There are necessities to which one must submit; you do + what you think is expected of you, and it must be right. Only grant me a + favor.” + </p> + <p> + “A favor? To you?” replied Serge, troubled at the unexpected turn the + interview was taking. “Speak, dear one; are you not at liberty to do as + you like?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Micheline, with a faint smile, “as you are so kindly + disposed, promise that we shall leave for Paris this week. The season is + far advancing. All your friends will have returned. It will not be such a + great sacrifice which I ask from you.” + </p> + <p> + “Willingly,” said Serge, surprised at Micheline’s sudden resolution. “But, + admit,” added he, gravely, “that your mother has worried you a little on + the subject.” + </p> + <p> + “My mother knows nothing of my project,” returned the Princess, coldly. “I + did not care to say anything about it to her until I had your consent. A + refusal on your part would have seemed too cruel. Already, you are not the + best of friends, and it is one of my regrets. You must be good to my + mother, Serge; she is getting old, and we owe her much gratitude and + love.” + </p> + <p> + Panine remained silent. Could such a sudden change have come over + Micheline in one day? She who lately sacrificed her mother for her husband + now came and pleaded in favor of Madame Desvarennes. What had happened? + </p> + <p> + He promptly decided on his course of action. + </p> + <p> + “All that you ask me shall be religiously fulfilled. No concession will be + too difficult for me to make if it please you. You wish to return to + Paris, we will go as soon as our arrangements have been made. Tell Madame + Desvarennes, then, and let her see in our going a proof that I wish to + live on good terms with her.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline simply said: “Thank you.” And Serge having gallantly kissed her + hand, she regained the terrace. + </p> + <p> + Left alone, Serge asked himself the meaning of the transformation in his + wife. For the first time she had shown signs of taking the initiative. Had + the question of money been raised by Madame Desvarennes, and was Micheline + taking him back to Paris in the hope of inducing a change in his habits? + They would see. The idea that Micheline had seen him with Jeanne never + occurred to him. He did not think his wife capable of so much + self-control. Loving as she was, she could not have controlled her + feelings, and would have made a disturbance. Therefore he had no + suspicions. + </p> + <p> + As to their leaving for Paris he was delighted at the idea. Jeanne and + Cayrol were leaving Nice at the end of the week. Lost in the vastness of + the capital, the lovers would be more secure. They could see each other at + leisure. Serge would hire a small house in the neighborhood of the Bois de + Boulogne, and there they could enjoy each other’s society without + observation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. CAYROL IS BLIND + </h2> + <p> + Micheline, on her return to Paris, was a cause of anxiety to all her + friends. Morally and physically she was changed. Her former gayety had + disappeared. In a few weeks she became thin and seemed to be wasting away. + Madame Desvarennes, deeply troubled, questioned her daughter, who + answered, evasively, that she was perfectly well and had nothing to + trouble her. The mother called in Doctor Rigaud, although she did not + believe in the profession, and, after a long conference, took him to see + Micheline. The doctor examined her, and declared it was nothing but + debility. Madame Desvarennes was assailed with gloomy forebodings. She + spent sleepless nights, during which she thought her daughter was dead; + she heard the funeral dirges around her coffin. This strong woman wept, + not daring to show her anxiety, and trembling lest Micheline should + suspect her fears. + </p> + <p> + Serge was careless and happy, treating the apprehensions of those + surrounding him with perfect indifference. He did not think his wife was + ill—a little tired perhaps, or it might be change of climate, + nothing serious. He had quite fallen into his old ways, spending every + night at the club, and a part of the day in a little house in the Avenue + Maillot, near the Bois de Boulogne. He had found one charmingly furnished, + and there he sheltered his guilty happiness. + </p> + <p> + It was here that Jeanne came, thickly veiled, since her return from Nice. + They each had a latchkey belonging to the door opening upon the Bois. The + one who arrived first waited for the other, within the house, whose + shutters remained closed to deceive passers-by. Then the hour of departure + came; the hope of meeting again did not lessen their sadness at parting. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne seldom went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. The welcome that Micheline + gave her was the same as usual, but Jeanne thought she discovered a + coldness which made her feel uncomfortable; and she did not care to meet + her lover’s wife, so she made her visits scarce. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol came every morning to talk on business matters with Madame + Desvarennes. He had resumed the direction of his banking establishment. + The great scheme of the European Credit Company had been launched by + Herzog, and promised great results. Still Herzog caused Cayrol + considerable anxiety. Although a man of remarkable intelligence, he had a + great failing, and by trying to grasp too much often ended by + accomplishing nothing. Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea + occurred to him, to which he sacrificed the former. + </p> + <p> + Thus, Herzog was projecting a still grander scheme to be based on the + European Credit. Cayrol, less sanguine, and more practical, was afraid of + the new scheme, and when Herzog spoke to him about it, said that things + were well enough for him as they were, and that he would not be implicated + in any fresh financial venture however promising. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol’s refusal had vexed Herzog. The German knew what opinion he was + held in by the public, and that without the prestige of Cayrol’s name, and + behind that, the house of Desvarennes, he would never have been able to + float the European Credit as it had been. He was too cunning not to know + this, and Cayrol having declined to join him, he looked round in search of + a suitable person to inspire the shareholders with confidence. + </p> + <p> + His daughter often went to the Rue Saint-Dominique. Madame Desvarennes and + Micheline had taken a fancy to her, as she was serious, natural, and + homelike. They liked to see her, although her father was not congenial to + their taste. Herzog had not succeeded in making friends with the mistress; + she disliked and instinctively mistrusted him. + </p> + <p> + One day it was rumored that Suzanne Herzog had gone in for an examination + at the Hotel de Ville, and had gained a certificate: People thought it was + very ridiculous. What was the good of so much learning for a girl who + would have such a large fortune, and who would never know want. Savinien + thought it was affectation and most laughable! Madame Desvarennes thought + it was most interesting; she liked workers, and considered that the richer + people were, the more reason they had to work. Herzog had allowed his + daughter to please herself and said nothing. + </p> + <p> + Springtime had come, and fine weather, yet Micheline’s health did not + improve. She did not suffer, but a sort of languor had come over her. For + days she never quitted her reclining-chair. She was very affectionate + toward her mother, and seemed to be making up for the lack of affection + shown during the first months of her marriage. + </p> + <p> + She never questioned Serge as to his manner of spending his time, though + she seldom saw him, except at meal hours. Every week she wrote to Pierre, + who was buried in his mines, and after every despatch her mother noticed + that she seemed sadder and paler. + </p> + <p> + Serge and Jeanne grew bolder. They felt that they were not watched. The + little house seemed too small for them, and they longed to go beyond the + garden, as the air of the Bois was so sweet and scented with violets. A + feeling of bravado came over them, and they did not mind being seen + together. People would think they were a newly-married couple. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon they sallied forth, Jeanne wearing a thick veil, and + trembling at the risk she was running, yet secretly delighted at going. + They chose the most unfrequented paths and solitary nooks. Then, after an + hour’s stroll, they returned briskly, frightened at the sounds of + carriages rolling in the distance. They often went out after that, and + chose in preference the paths near the pond of Madrid where, behind + sheltering shrubs, they sat talking and listening to the busy hum of + Parisian life, seemingly so far away. + </p> + <p> + One day, about four o’clock, Madame Desvarennes was going to Saint-Cloud + on business, and was crossing the Bois de Boulogne. Her coachman had + chosen the most unfrequented paths to save time. She had opened the + carriage-window, and was enjoying the lovely scent from the shrubs. + Suddenly a watering-cart stopped the way. Madame Desvarennes looked + through the window to see what was the matter, and remained stupefied. At + the turning of a path she espied Serge, with a woman on his arm. She + uttered a cry that caused the couple to turn round. Seeing that pale face, + they sought to hide themselves. + </p> + <p> + In a moment Madame Desvarennes was out of the carriage. The guilty couple + fled down a path. Without caring what might be said of her, and goaded on + by a fearful rage, she tried to follow them. She especially wished to see + the woman who was closely veiled. She guessed her to be Jeanne. But the + younger woman, terrified, fled like a deer down a side walk. Madame + Desvarennes, quite out of breath, was obliged to stop. She heard the + slamming of a carriage-door, and a hired brougham that had been waiting at + the end of the path swept by her bearing the lovers toward the town. + </p> + <p> + The mistress hesitated a moment, then said to her coachman: + </p> + <p> + “Drive home.” And, abandoning her business, she arrived in the Rue + Saint-Dominique a few minutes after the Prince. + </p> + <p> + With a bound, without going through the offices, without even taking off + her bonnet and cloak, she went up to Serge’s apartments. Without + hesitating, she entered the smoking-room. + </p> + <p> + Panine was there. Evidently he was expecting her. On seeing Madame + Desvarennes he rose, with a smile: + </p> + <p> + “One can see that you are at home,” said he, ironically; “you come in + without knocking.” + </p> + <p> + “No nonsense; the moment is ill-chosen,” briefly retorted the mistress. + “Why did you run away when you saw me a little while ago?” + </p> + <p> + “You have such a singular way of accosting people,” he answered, lightly. + “You come on like a charge of cavalry. The person with whom I was talking + was frightened, she ran away and I followed her.” + </p> + <p> + “She was doing wrong then if she was frightened. Does she know me?” + </p> + <p> + “Who does not know you? You are almost notorious—in the + corn-market!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes allowed the insult to pass without remark, and + advancing toward Serge, said: + </p> + <p> + “Who is this woman?” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I introduce her to you?” inquired the Prince, quietly. “She is one + of my countrywomen, a Polish—” + </p> + <p> + “You are a liar!” cried Madame Desvarennes, unable to control her temper + any longer. “You are lying most impudently!” + </p> + <p> + And she was going to add, “That woman was Jeanne!” but prudence checked + the sentence on her lips. + </p> + <p> + Serge turned pale. + </p> + <p> + “You forget yourself strangely, Madame,” he said, in a dry tone. + </p> + <p> + “I forgot myself a year ago, not now! It was when I was weak that I forgot + myself. When Micheline was between you and me I neither dared to speak nor + act. + </p> + <p> + “But now, since after almost ruining my poor daughter, you deceive her, I + have no longer any consideration for you. To make her come over to my side + I have only to speak one word.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, speak it! She is there. I will call her!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, in that supreme moment, was assailed by a doubt. What + if Micheline, in her blind love, did not believe her? + </p> + <p> + She raised her hand to stop Serge. + </p> + <p> + “Will not the fear of killing my daughter by this revelation stay you?” + asked she, bitterly. “What manner of man are you to have so little heart + and conscience?” + </p> + <p> + Panine burst into laughter. + </p> + <p> + “You see what your threats are worth, and what value I place on them. + Spare them in the future. You ask me what manner of man I am? I will tell + you. I have not much patience, I hate to have my liberty interfered with, + and I have a horror of family jars. I expect to be master of my own + house.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes was roused at these words. Her rage had abated on her + daughter’s account, but now it rose to a higher pitch. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! so this is it, is it?” she said. “You would like perfect liberty, I + see! You make such very good use of it. You don’t like to hear remarks + upon it. It is more convenient, in fact! You wish to be master in your own + house? In your own house! But, in truth, what are you here to put on airs + toward me? Scarcely more than a servant. A husband receiving wages from + me!” + </p> + <p> + Serge, with flashing eyes, made a terrible movement. He tried to speak, + but his lips trembled, and he could not utter a sound. By a sign he showed + Madame Desvarennes the door. The latter looked resolutely at the Prince, + and with energy which nothing could henceforth soften, added: + </p> + <p> + “You will have to deal with me in future! Good-day!” + </p> + <p> + And, leaving the room with as much calmness as she felt rage when entering + it, she went down to the counting-house. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol was sitting chatting with Marechal in his room. He was telling him + that Herzog’s rashness caused him much anxiety. Marechal did not encourage + his confidence. The secretary’s opinion on the want of morality on the + part of the financier had strengthened. The good feeling he entertained + toward the daughter had not counterbalanced the bad impression he had of + the father, and he warmly advised Cayrol to break off all financial + connection with such a man. Cayrol, indeed, had now very little to do with + the European Credit. The office was still at his banking house, and the + payments for shares were still made into his bank, but as soon as the new + scheme which Herzog was preparing was launched, the financier intended + settling in splendid offices which were being rapidly completed in the + neighborhood of the Opera. Herzog might therefore commit all the follies + which entered his head. Cayrol would be out of it. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes entered. At the first glance, the men noticed the + traces of the emotion she had just experienced. They rose and waited in + silence. When the mistress was in a bad humor everybody gave way to her. + It was the custom. She nodded to Cayrol, and walked up and down the + office, absorbed in her own thoughts. Suddenly stopping, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Marechal, prepare Prince Panine’s account.” + </p> + <p> + The secretary looked up amazed, and did not seem to understand. + </p> + <p> + “Well! The Prince has had an overdraft; you will give me a statement; + that’s all! I wish to see how we two stand.” + </p> + <p> + The two men, astonished to hear Madame Desvarennes speak of her son-in-law + as she would of a customer, exchanged looks. + </p> + <p> + “You have lent my son-in-law money, Cayrol?” + </p> + <p> + And as the banker remained silent, still looking at the secretary, Madame + added: + </p> + <p> + “Does the presence of Marechal make you hesitate in answering me? Speak + before him; I have told you more than a hundred times that he knows my + business as well as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I have, indeed, advanced some money to the Prince,” replied Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “How much?” inquired Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t remember the exact amount. I was happy to oblige your + son-in-law.” + </p> + <p> + “You were wrong, and have acted unwisely in not acquainting me of the + fact. It is thus that his follies have been encouraged by obliging + friends. At all events, I ask you now not to lend him any more.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol seemed put out, and, with his hands in his pockets and his + shoulders up, replied: + </p> + <p> + “This is a delicate matter which you ask of me. You will cause a quarrel + between the Prince and myself—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you prefer quarreling with me?” asked the mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Zounds! No!” replied the banker. “But you place me in an embarrassing + position! I have just promised to lend Serge a considerable sum to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! you will not give it to him.” + </p> + <p> + “That is an act which he will scarcely forgive,” sighed Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes placed her hand on the shoulder of the banker, and + looking seriously at him, said: + </p> + <p> + “You would not have forgiven me if I had allowed you to render him this + service.” + </p> + <p> + A vague uneasiness filled Cayrol’s heart, a shadow seemed to pass before + his eyes, and in a troubled voice he said to the mistress: + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he would have repaid you badly.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol thought the mistress was alluding to the money he had already lent, + and his fears vanished. Madame Desvarennes would surely repay it. + </p> + <p> + “So you are cutting off his resources?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Completely,” answered the mistress. “He takes too much liberty, that + young gentleman. He was wrong to forget that I hold the purse-strings. I + don’t mind paying, but I want a little deference shown me for my money. + Good-by! Cayrol, remember my instructions.” + </p> + <p> + And, shaking hands with the banker, Madame Desvarennes entered her own + office, leaving the two men together. + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s pause: Cayrol was the first to break the silence. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of the Prince’s position?” + </p> + <p> + “His financial position?” asked Marechal. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I know all about that! I mean his relation to Madame + Desvarennes.” + </p> + <p> + “Zounds! If we were in Venice in the days of the Aqua-Toffana, the sbirri + and the bravi—” + </p> + <p> + “What rubbish!” interrupted Cayrol, shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Let me continue,” said the secretary, “and you can shrug your shoulders + afterward if you like. If we had been in Venice, knowing Madame + Desvarennes as I do, it would not have been surprising to me to have had + Master Serge found at the bottom of the canal some fine morning.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not in earnest,” muttered the banker. + </p> + <p> + “Much more so than you think. Only you know we live in the nineteenth + century, and we cannot make Providence interpose in the form of a dagger + or poison so easily as in former days. Arsenic and verdigris are sometimes + used, but it does not answer. Scientific people have had the meanness to + invent tests by which poison can be detected even when there is none.” + </p> + <p> + “You are making fun of me,” said Cayrol, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “I! No. Come, do you wish to do a good stroke of business? Find a man who + will consent to rid Madame Desvarennes of her son-in-law. If he succeed, + ask Madame Desvarennes for a million francs. I will pay it at only + twenty-five francs’ discount, if you like!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol was thoughtful. Marechal continued: + </p> + <p> + “You have known the house a long time, how is it you don’t understand the + mistress better? I tell you, and remember this: between Madame Desvarennes + and the Prince there is a mortal hatred. One of the two will destroy the + other. Which? Betting is open.” + </p> + <p> + “But what must I do? The Prince relies on me—” + </p> + <p> + “Go and tell him not to do so any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Faith, no! I would rather he came to my office. I should be more at ease. + Adieu, Marechal.” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, Monsieur Cayrol. But on whom will you bet?” + </p> + <p> + “Before I venture I should like to know on whose side the Princess is.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, dangler! You think too much of the women! Some day you will be let in + through that failing of yours!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol smiled conceitedly, and went away. Marechal sat down at his desk, + and took out a sheet of paper. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell Pierre that everything is going on well here,” he murmured. + “If he knew what was taking place he would soon be back, and might be + guilty of some foolery or other.” So he commenced writing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 4. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. THE UNIVERSAL CREDIT COMPANY + </h2> + <p> + The banking-house of Cayrol had not a very imposing appearance. It was a + narrow two-storied building, the front blackened by time. There was a + carriage gateway, on the right-hand side of which was the entrance to the + offices. The stairs leading to the first floor were covered by a well-worn + carpet. Here was a long corridor into which the different offices opened. + On their glass doors might be read: “Payments of dividends.” “Accounts.” + “Foreign correspondence.” “General office.” Cayrol’s own room was quite at + the end, and communicated with his private apartments. Everything breathed + of simplicity and honesty. Cayrol had never tried to throw dust into + people’s eyes. He had started modestly when opening the bank; his business + had increased, but his habits had remained the same. It was not a + difficult matter to obtain an interview, even by people not known to him. + They sent in their cards, and were admitted to his sanctum. + </p> + <p> + It was amid the coming and going of customers and clerks that Prince + Panine came the following day to find Cayrol. For the first time Serge had + put himself out for the banker. He was introduced with marks of the most + profound respect. The great name of Desvarennes seemed to cast a kind of + halo round his head in the eyes of the clerks. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, a little embarrassed, but still resolute, went toward him. Serge + seemed nervous and somewhat abrupt in manner. He foresaw some difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “Well! my dear fellow,” he said, without sitting down. “What are you up + to? I have waited since yesterday for the money you promised me.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol scratched his ear, and felt taken aback by this plain speaking. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is—” stammered he. + </p> + <p> + “Have you forgotten your engagement?” asked Serge, frowning. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Cayrol, speaking slowly, “but I met Madame Desvarennes + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “And what had that to do with your intentions?” + </p> + <p> + “Zounds! It had everything to do with them. Your mother-in-law made a + scene, and forbade my lending you any money. You must understand, my dear + Prince, that my relations with Madame Desvarennes are important. I hold a + great deal of money of hers in my bank. She first gave me a start. I + cannot, without appearing ungrateful, act contrary to her will. Place + yourself in my position, and judge impartially of the terrible alternative + between obliging you and displeasing my benefactress.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t cry; it is useless,” said Serge, with a scornful laugh. “I + sympathize with your troubles. You side with the money-bags. It remains to + be seen whether you will gain by it.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Prince, I swear to you that I am in despair,” cried Cayrol, + annoyed at the turn the interview was taking. “Listen; be reasonable! I + don’t know what you have done to your mother-in-law, but she seems much + vexed with you. In your place I would rather make a few advances than + remain hostile toward Madame Desvarennes. That would mend matters, you + see. Flies are not to be caught with vinegar.” + </p> + <p> + Serge looked contemptuously at Cayrol, and put on his hat with supreme + insolence. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, my dear fellow; as a banker you are excellent when you have + any money to spare, but as a moralist you are highly ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + And, turning on his heel, he quitted the office, leaving Cayrol quite + abashed. He passed along the corridor switching his cane with suppressed + rage. Madame Desvarennes had, with one word, dried up the source from + which he had been drawing most of the money which he had spent during the + last three months. He had to pay a large sum that evening at the club, and + he did not care to apply to the money-lenders of Paris. + </p> + <p> + He went down the stairs wondering how he would get out of this scrape! Go + to Madame Desvarennes and humble himself as Cayrol advised? Never! He + regretted, for a moment, the follies which had led him into this + difficulty. He ought to have been able to live on two hundred thousand + francs a year! He had squandered money foolishly, and now the + inexhaustible well from which he had drawn his treasure was closed by an + invincible will. + </p> + <p> + He was crossing the gateway, when a well-known voice struck his ear, and + he turned round. Herzog, smiling in his enigmatical manner, was before + him. Serge bowed, and wanted to pass on, but the financier put his hand on + his arm, saying: + </p> + <p> + “What a hurry you are in, Prince. I suppose your pocketbook is full of + notes, and you are afraid of being plundered.” + </p> + <p> + And with his finger, Herzog touched the silver mounted pocketbook, the + corner of which was peeping out of the Prince’s pocket. Panine could not + control a gesture of vexation, which made the financier smile. + </p> + <p> + “Am I wrong?” asked Herzog. “Can our friend Cayrol have refused your + request? By-the-bye, did you not quarrel with Madame Desvarennes + yesterday? Whoever was it told me that? Your mother-in-law spoke of + cutting off all your credit, and from your downcast look I guess that fool + Cayrol has obeyed the orders he has received.” + </p> + <p> + Serge, exasperated and stamping with rage, wanted to speak, but it was no + easy matter interrupting Herzog. Besides, there was something in the + latter’s look which annoyed Serge. His glance seemed to be fathoming the + depths of Panine’s pockets, and the latter instinctively tightened his + arms across his chest, so that Herzog might not see that his pocketbook + was empty. + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about?” asked Serge, at last, with a constrained + smile. + </p> + <p> + “About things which must greatly interest you,” said Herzog, familiarly. + “Come, be sincere. Cayrol has just refused you a sum of money. He’s a + simpleton! How much do you want? Will a hundred thousand francs do just + now?” + </p> + <p> + And writing a few words on a check, the financier handed it to Serge, + adding: + </p> + <p> + “A man of your position should not be in any difficulty for such a paltry + sum!” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir,” said Serge, astonished, and pushing away Herzog’s hand. + </p> + <p> + “Accept it, and don’t feel indebted to me. It is hardly worth while + between you and me.” + </p> + <p> + And taking Panine’s arm Herzog walked on with him. + </p> + <p> + “Your carriage is there? all right, mine will follow. I want to talk to + you. Your troubles cannot last. I will show you the means of extricating + yourself and that without delay, my dear sir.” + </p> + <p> + And without consulting Panine he seated himself beside him in the + carriage. + </p> + <p> + “I told you once, if you remember,” continued the financier, “that I might + prove useful to you. You were haughty, and I did not insist; yet you see + the day has come. Let me speak frankly with you. It is my usual manner, + and there is some good in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak,” answered Serge, rather puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “You find yourself at this moment, vulgarly speaking, left in the lurch. + Your wants are many and your resources few.” + </p> + <p> + “At least—” protested Serge. + </p> + <p> + “Good! There you are refractory,” said the financier, laughingly, “and I + have not finished. The day after your marriage you formed your household + on a lavish footing; you gave splendid receptions; you bought race-horses; + in short, you went the pace like a great lord. Undoubtedly it costs a lot + of money to keep up such an establishment. As you spent without counting + the cost, you confounded the capital with the interest, so that at this + moment you are three parts ruined. I don’t think you would care to change + your mode of living, and it is too late in the day to cut down expenses + and exist on what remains? No. Well, to keep up your present style you + need at least a million francs every year.” + </p> + <p> + “You calculate like Cocker,” remarked Serge, smiling with some constraint. + </p> + <p> + “That is my business,” answered Herzog. “There are two ways by which you + can obtain that million. The first is by making it up with your + mother-in-law, and consenting, for money, to live under her dominion. I + know her, she will agree to this.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Serge, “I refuse to submit.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case you must get out of your difficulties alone.” + </p> + <p> + “And how?” inquired the Prince, with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + Herzog looked at him seriously. + </p> + <p> + “By entering on the path which I am ready to open up to you,” replied + Herzog, “and in which I will guide you. By going in for business.” + </p> + <p> + Serge returned Herzog’s glance and tried to read his face, but found him + impenetrable. + </p> + <p> + “To go into business one needs experience, and I have none.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine will suffice,” retorted the financier. + </p> + <p> + “Or money,” continued the Prince, “and I have none, either.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t ask money from you. I offer you some.” + </p> + <p> + “What, then, do I bring into the concern?” + </p> + <p> + “The prestige of your name, and your relations with Madame Desvarennes.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince answered, haughtily: + </p> + <p> + “My relations are personal, and I doubt whether they will serve you. My + mother-in-law is hostile, and will do nothing for me. As to my name, it + does not belong to me, it belongs to those who bore it nobly before me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your relations will serve me,” said Herzog. “I am satisfied. Your + mother-in-law cannot get out of your being her daughter’s husband, and for + that you are worth your weight in gold. As to your name, it is just + because it has been nobly borne that it is valuable. Thank your ancestors, + therefore, and make the best of the only heritage they left you. Besides, + if you care to examine things closely, your ancestors will not have reason + to tremble in their graves. What did they do formerly? They imposed taxes + on their vassals and extorted money from the vanquished. We financiers do + the same. Our vanquished are the speculators; our vassals the + shareholders. And what a superiority there is about our proceedings! There + is no violence. We persuade; we fascinate; and the money flows into our + coffers. What do I say? They beseech us to take it. We reign without + contest. We are princes, too princes of finance. We have founded an + aristocracy as proud and as powerful as the old one. Feudality of nobility + no longer exists; it has given way to that of money.” + </p> + <p> + Serge laughed. He saw what Herzog was driving at. + </p> + <p> + “Your great barons of finance are sometimes subject to executions,” said + he. + </p> + <p> + “Were not Chalais, Cinq-Mars, Biron, and Montmorency executed?” asked + Herzog, with irony. + </p> + <p> + “That was on a scaffold,” replied Panine. + </p> + <p> + “Well! the speculator’s scaffold is the Bourse! But only small dabblers in + money succumb; the great ones are safe from danger. They are supported in + their undertakings by such powerful and numerous interests that they + cannot fail without involving public credit; even governments are forced + to come to their aid. One of these powerful and indestructible enterprises + I have dreamed of grafting on to the European Credit Company, the + Universal Credit Company. Its very name is a programme in itself. To + stretch over the four quarters of the globe like an immense net, and draw + into its meshes all financial speculators: such is its aim. Nobody will be + able to withstand us. I am offering you great things, but I dream of still + greater. I have ideas. You will see them developed, and will profit by + them, if you join my fortunes. You are ambitious, Prince. I guessed it; + but your ambition hitherto has been satisfied with small things—luxurious + indulgences and triumphs of elegance! What are these worth to what I can + give you? The sphere in which you move is narrow. I will make it immense. + You will no longer reign over a small social circle, you will rule a + world.” + </p> + <p> + Serge, more affected than he cared to show, tried to banter. + </p> + <p> + “Are you repeating the prologue to Faust?” asked he. “Where is your + magical compact? Must I sign it?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Your consent is sufficient. Look into the business, study it + at your leisure, and measure the results; and then if it suit you, you can + sign a deed of partnership. Then in a few years you may possess a fortune + surpassing all that you have dreamed of.” + </p> + <p> + The financier remained silent. Serge was weighing the question. Herzog was + happy; he had shown himself to all Paris in company with Madame + Desvarennes’s son-in-law. He had already realized one of his projects. The + carriage was just passing down the Champs Elysees. The weather was lovely, + and in the distance could be seen the trees of the Tuileries and the + different monuments of the Place de la Concorde bathed in blue mist. + Groups of horsemen were cantering along the side avenues. Long files of + carriages were rolling rapidly by with well-dressed ladies. The capital + displayed at that hour all the splendor of its luxury. It was Paris in all + its strength and gayety. + </p> + <p> + Herzog stretched out his hand, and calling the Prince’s attention to the + sight, said: + </p> + <p> + “There’s your empire!” + </p> + <p> + Then, looking at him earnestly, he asked: + </p> + <p> + “Is it agreed?” + </p> + <p> + Serge hesitated for a moment, and then bowed his head, saying: + </p> + <p> + “It is agreed.” + </p> + <p> + Herzog pulled the check-string communicating with the coachman and + alighted. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” said he to Panine. + </p> + <p> + He slipped into his own carriage, which had followed closely behind, and + drove off. + </p> + <p> + From that day, even Jeanne had a rival. The fever of speculation had + seized on Serge; he had placed his little finger within the wheels and he + must follow—body, name, and soul. The power which this new game + exercised over him was incredible. It was quite different to the stupid + games at the club, always the same. On the Bourse, everything was new, + unexpected, sudden, and formidable. The intensity of the feelings were + increased a hundredfold, owing to the importance of the sums risked. + </p> + <p> + It was really a splendid sight to see Herzog manipulating matters, + maneuvering with a miraculous dexterity millions of francs. And then the + field for operations was large. Politics, the interests of nations, were + the mainsprings which impelled the play, and the game assumed diplomatic + vastness and financial grandeur. + </p> + <p> + From his private office Herzog issued orders, and whether his ability was + really extraordinary, or whether fortune exceptionally favored him, + success was certain. Serge, from the first week, realized considerable + sums. This brilliant success threw him in a state of great excitement. He + believed everything that Herzog said to him as if it were gospel. He saw + the world bending under the yoke which he was about to impose upon it. + People working and toiling every day were doing so for him alone, and like + one of those kings who had conquered the world, he pictured all the + treasures of the earth laid at his feet. From that time he lost the sense + of right and wrong. He admitted the unlikely, and found the impossible + quite natural. He was a docile tool in the hands of Herzog. + </p> + <p> + The rumor of this unforeseen change in Panine’s circumstances soon reached + Madame Desvarennes’s ears. The mistress was frightened, and sent for + Cayrol, begging him to remain a director of the European Credit, in order + to watch the progress of the new affair. With her practical common sense, + she foresaw disasters, and even regretted that Serge had not confined + himself to cards and reckless living. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol was most uneasy, and made a confidant of his wife, who, deeply + troubled, told Panine the fears his friends entertained on his account. + The Prince smiled disdainfully, saying these fears were the effect of + plebeian timidity. The mistress understood nothing of great speculations, + and Cayrol was a narrow-minded banker! He knew what he was doing. The + results of his speculations were mathematical. So far they had not + disappointed his hopes. The great Universal Credit Company, of which he + was going to be a director, would bring him in such an immense fortune + that he would be independent of Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne, terrified at this blind confidence, tried to persuade him. Serge + took her in his arms, kissed her, and banished her fears. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes had forbidden her people to tell Micheline anything of + what was going on, as she wished her to remain in perfect ignorance. By a + word, the mistress, if she could not have prevented the follies of which + Serge was guilty, could, at least, have spared herself and her daughter. + It would have only been necessary to reveal his behavior and betrayal to + Micheline, and to provoke a separation. If the house of Desvarennes were + no longer security for Panine, his credit would fall. Disowned by his + mother-in-law, and publicly given up by her, he would be of no use to + Herzog, and would be promptly thrown over by him. The mistress did not + wish her daughter to know the heartrending truth. She would not willingly + cause her to shed tears, and therefore preferred risking ruin. + </p> + <p> + Micheline, too, tried to hide her troubles from her mother. She knew too + well that Serge would have the worst of it if he got into her black books. + With the incredible persistence of a loving heart, she hoped to win back + Serge. Thus a terrible misunderstanding caused these two women to remain + inactive and silent, when, by united efforts, they might, perhaps, have + prevented dangers. + </p> + <p> + The great speculation was already being talked about. Herzog was boldly + placing his foot on the summit whereon the five or six demigods, who ruled + the stock market, were firmly placed. The audacious encroachments of this + newcomer had vexed these formidable potentates, and already they had + decided secretly his downfall because he would not let them share in his + profits. + </p> + <p> + One morning, the Parisians, on awakening, found the walls placarded with + notices advertising the issue of shares in the Universal Credit Company, + and announcing the names of the directors, among which appeared that of + the Prince. Some were members of the Legion d’Honneur; others recent + members of the Cabinet Council, and Prefets retired into private life. A + list of names to dazzle the public, but all having a weak point. + </p> + <p> + This created a great sensation in the business world. Madame Desvarennes’s + son-in-law was on the board. It was a good speculation, then? People + consulted the mistress, who found herself somewhat in a dilemma; either + she must disown her son-in-law, or speak well of the affair. Still she did + not hesitate, for she was loyal and honest above all things. She declared + the speculation was a poor one, and did all she could to prevent any of + her friends becoming shareholders. + </p> + <p> + The issue of shares was disastrous. The great banks remained hostile, and + capitalists were mistrustful. Herzog landed a few million francs. + Doorkeepers and cooks brought him their savings. He covered expenses. But + it was no use advertising and puffing in the newspapers, as a word had + gone forth which paralyzed the speculation. Ugly rumors were afloat. + Herzog’s German origin was made use of by the bankers, who whispered that + the aim of the Universal Credit Company was exclusively political. It was + to establish branch banks in every part of the world to further the + interests of German industry. Further, at a given moment, Germany might + have need of a loan in case of war, and the Universal Credit Company would + be there to supply the necessary aid to the great military nation. + </p> + <p> + Herzog was not a man to be put down without resisting, and he made supreme + efforts to float his undertaking. He caused a number of unissued shares to + be sold on ‘Change, and had them bought up by his own men, thus creating a + fictitious interest in the company. In a few days the shares rose and were + at a premium, simply through the jobbery to which Herzog lent himself. + </p> + <p> + Panine was little disposed to seek for explanations, and, besides, had + such unbounded faith in his partner that he suspected nothing. He remained + in perfect tranquillity. He had increased his expenditure, and his + household was on a royal footing. Micheline’s sweetness emboldened him; he + no longer took the trouble of dissimulating, and treated his young wife + with perfect indifference. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne and Serge met every day at the little house in the Avenue Maillot. + Cayrol was too much engaged with the new anxieties which Herzog caused + him, to look after his wife, and left her quite free to amuse herself. + Besides, he had not the least suspicion. Jeanne, like all guilty women, + overwhelmed him with kind attentions, which the good man mistook for + proofs of love. The fatal passion was growing daily stronger in the young + woman’s heart, and she would have found it impossible to have given up her + dishonorable happiness with Panine. She felt herself capable of doing + anything to preserve her lover. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne had already said, “Oh! if we were but free!” And they formed + projects. They would go away to Lake Lugano, and, in a villa hidden by + trees and shrubs, would enjoy the pleasures of being indissolubly united. + The woman was more eager than the man in giving way to these visions of + happiness. She sometimes said, “What hinders us now? Let us go.” But + Serge, prudent and discreet, even in the most affectionate moments, led + Jeanne to take a more sensible view. What was the use of a scandal? Did + they not belong to each other? + </p> + <p> + Then the young woman reproached him for not loving her as much as she + loved him. She was tired of dissimulating; her husband was an object of + horror to her, and she had to tell him untruths and submit to his caresses + which were revolting to her. Serge calmed her with a kiss, and bade her + wait awhile. + </p> + <p> + Pierre, rendered anxious on hearing that Serge had joined Herzog in his + dangerous financial speculations, had left his mines and had just arrived. + The letters which Micheline addressed to the friend of her youth, her + enforced confidant in trouble, were calm and resigned. Full of pride, she + had carefully hidden from Pierre the cause of her troubles. He was the + last person by whom she would like to be pitied, and her letters had + represented Serge as repentant and full of good feeling. Marechal, for + similar reasons, had kept his friend in the dark. He feared Pierre’s + interference, and he wished to spare Madame Desvarennes the grief of + seeing her adopted son quarreling with her son-in-law. + </p> + <p> + But the placards announcing the establishment of the Universal Credit + Company made their way into the provinces, and one morning Pierre found + some stuck on the walls of his establishment. Seeing the name of Panine, + and not that of Cayrol, Pierre shuddered. The unpleasant ideas which he + experienced formerly when Herzog was introduced to the Desvarennes + recurred to his mind. He wrote to the mistress to ask what was going on, + and not receiving an answer, he started off without hesitation for Paris. + </p> + <p> + He found Madame Desvarennes in a terrible state of excitement. The shares + had just fallen a hundred and twenty francs. A panic had ensued. The + affair was considered as absolutely lost, and the shareholders were + aggravating matters by wanting to sell out at once. + </p> + <p> + Savinien was just coming away from the mistress’s room. He wanted to see + the downfall of the Prince, whom he had always hated, looking upon him as + a usurper of his own rights upon the fortune of the Desvarennes. He began + lamenting to his aunt, when she turned upon him with unusual harshness, + and he felt bound as he said, laughing, to leave the “funereal mansion.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, as much interested in the affairs of the Prince as if they were + his own, went backward and forward between the Rue Saint-Dominique and the + Rue Taitbout, pale and troubled, but without losing his head. He had + already saved the European Credit Company by separating it six weeks + before from the Universal Credit Company, notwithstanding Madame + Desvarennes’s supplications to keep them together, in the hope that the + one would save the other. But Cayrol, practical, clear, and implacable, + had refused, for the first time, to obey Madame Desvarennes. He acted with + the resolution of a captain of a vessel, who throws overboard a portion of + the cargo to save the ship, the crew, and the rest of the merchandise. He + did well, and the European Credit was safe. The shares had fallen a + little, but a favorable reaction was already showing itself. The name of + Cayrol, and his presence at the head of affairs, had reassured the public, + and the shareholders gathered round him, passing a vote of confidence. + </p> + <p> + The banker, devoted to his task, next sought to save Panine, who was at + that very moment robbing him of his honor and happiness in the house of + the Avenue Maillot. + </p> + <p> + Pierre, Cayrol, and Madame Desvarennes met in Marechal’s private office. + Pierre declared that it was imperative to take strong measures and to + speak to the Prince. It was the duty of the mistress to enlighten Panine, + who was no doubt Herzog’s dupe. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes shook her head sadly. She feared that Serge was not a + dupe but an accomplice. And what could she tell him? Let him ruin himself! + He would not believe her. She knew how he received her advice and bore her + remonstrances. + </p> + <p> + An explanation between her and Serge was impossible, and her interference + would only hurry him into the abyss. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I will speak to him,” said Pierre, resolutely. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Madame Desvarennes, “not you! Only one here can tell him + efficaciously what he must hear, and that is Cayrol. Let us above all + things keep guard over our words and our behavior. On no account must + Micheline suspect anything.” + </p> + <p> + Thus, at the most solemn moments, when fortune and honor, perhaps, were + compromised, the mother thought of her daughter’s welfare and happiness. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol went up to the Prince’s rooms. He had just come in, and was opening + his letters, while having a cigarette in the smoking-room. A door, covered + by curtains, led to a back stair which opened into the courtyard. Cayrol + had gone up that way, feeling sure that by so doing he would not meet + Micheline. + </p> + <p> + On seeing Jeanne’s husband, Serge rose quickly. He feared that Cayrol had + discovered everything, and instinctively stepped backward. The banker’s + manner soon undeceived him. He was serious, but not in a rage. He had + evidently come on business. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear Cayrol,” said the Prince, gayly, “what good fortune has + brought you here?” + </p> + <p> + “If it is fortune, it is certainly not good fortune,” answered the banker, + gravely. “I wish to have some talk with you, and I shall be grateful if + you will listen patiently.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh!” said Serge. “How serious you are. You have some heavy payments + on hand, and want a little help, eh? I will speak to Herzog.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol looked at the Prince in amazement. So he did not suspect anything? + Such carelessness and negligence frightened him. The banker resolved to + proceed clearly, and without beating about the bush; to do away with such + blind confidence a thunderbolt was necessary. + </p> + <p> + “I have not come about my business, but yours,” returned Cayrol. “The + Universal Credit Company is on the eve of disaster; there is still time + for you to withdraw safely and soundly from the sinking wreck. I bring you + the means.” + </p> + <p> + Serge laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Cayrol; you are very kind, my friend. I know your intentions + are good, but I don’t believe a word you are saying. You have come from + Madame Desvarennes. You are both agreed that I shall give up the Universal + Credit, but I will not yield to any pressure. I know what I am doing. Be + easy.” + </p> + <p> + And quietly lighting another cigarette, he gracefully puffed the smoke + toward the ceiling. Cayrol did not trouble to argue, but took a newspaper + from his pocket and handed it to Panine, simply saying, “Read!” + </p> + <p> + It was an article in a reliable financial paper prophesying the failure of + the Universal Credit Company, and basing its statements on irrefutable + calculations. Serge took the paper and looked over it. He turned pale and + crushed it in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “What infamy!” cried he. “I know our adversaries are enraged. Yes, they + know that our new company is destined to crush them in the future, and + they are doing all they can to run us aground. Jealousy! Envy! There is no + other foundation for these rumors, and they are unworthy a serious man’s + attention.” + </p> + <p> + “There is neither envy nor jealousy. All is true,” said Cayrol. “You will + admit that I am your sincere friend? Well, I swear to you that the + situation is terrible, and you must resign your directorship of the + Universal Credit without loss of time. There’s not a moment to lose. Sit + down and write your resignation.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am a child to be led by the nose like that?” asked the + Prince, in a passion. “If you are sincere, Cayrol, as I wish to believe, I + also think you are a fool. You don’t understand! As to drawing out of the + company, never! I have a lot of money invested in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, lose your money, Madame Desvarennes will pay you back. At least you + can save your name.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I see you are conniving with her!” exclaimed the Prince, loudly. + “Don’t tell me another word, I don’t believe you. I shall go straight to + the office, and I will speak to Herzog. We will take measures to prosecute + the papers for libel if they dare to publish these untruths.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol saw that nothing would convince Panine. He hoped that an interview + with Herzog would enlighten him. He left the matter to chance, as + reasoning was of no avail, and went down to the mistress. + </p> + <p> + Serge drove to the Universal Credit Company. It was the first day in the + new offices. Herzog had furnished them splendidly, thinking that this + would give the shareholders a high opinion of the undertaking. How could + they have any doubts when they saw such splendid furniture and large + offices? How could they refuse to place their money in the hands of + speculators that could cover their floors with such soft carpets? The + porters, with their dark blue and red cloth liveries, and buttons with the + company’s monogram on them, answered inquiries with haughty condescension. + Everything foretold success. It was in the air. You could hear the cashier + shovelling heaps of gold. The people who had placed the Universal Credit + Company on such a footing were either very powerful or very impudent. + </p> + <p> + Serge walked in, as he would have done at home, with his hat on, amid a + number of small shareholders, who had come full of anxiety after reading + the accounts in the newspapers, and who felt full of confidence after + seeing the splendor of the place. Panine reached Herzog’s office, but when + about to open the door, loud voices struck his ear. The financier was + arguing with a director, and Panine listened. + </p> + <p> + “The speculation is safe and sure,” Herzog was saying. “The shares are + low, I know, because I have ceased to keep them up. I have given orders in + London, Vienna, and Berlin, and we are buying up all shares that are + offered in the market. I shall then run the shares up again, and we shall + realize an enormous sum. It is most simple.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is shady,” said the other voice. + </p> + <p> + “Why? I defend myself as I am attacked. The great banks seek to + deteriorate my stock. I buy in, and take it out of my adversaries. Is it + not just and lawful?” + </p> + <p> + Panine breathed freely and felt reassured. The depreciation was caused by + Herzog; he had just said so. There was nothing to fear then. It was just a + trick of Herzog’s, and the company would come out brighter than ever. + </p> + <p> + Serge went in. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! here’s Prince Panine,” said Herzog. “Ask him what he thinks of the + matter. I defer to his judgment.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to know anything,” said Serge. “I have full confidence in + you, my dear manager, and our business will prosper in your hands, I am + sure. Besides, I know the manoeuvres of our opponents, and I think every + financial means justifiable to answer them.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! What did I say to you a few minutes ago?” cried Herzog, addressing + his questioner in a tone of triumph. “Let me act and you will see. + Besides, I don’t want to keep you against your will,” he added, harshly. + “You are at liberty to withdraw from us if you like.” + </p> + <p> + The other protested that what he had said was for the best interests of + all concerned. He did not dream of leaving the company; on the contrary, + they might rely on him. He appreciated the experience and ability of + Herzog too well to separate his fortune from his friend’s. And, shaking + hands with the financier, he took his leave. + </p> + <p> + “Come! What is all this clamor in the newspapers?” asked Serge, when he + found himself alone with Herzog. “Do you know that the articles published + are very perfidious?” + </p> + <p> + “All the more perfidious because they are founded on truth,” said the + financier, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” cried Serge, in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “The truth. Do you think I am to tell you lies as I did to that idiot who + has just gone out? The Universal Credit has at this moment a screw loose. + But patience! I have an idea, and in a fortnight the shares will have + doubled in value. I have a splendid scheme in hand which will kill the gas + companies. It is a plan for lighting by magnesium. Its effect will be + startling. I shall publish sensational articles describing the invention + in the London and Brussels papers. Gas shares will fall very low. I shall + buy up all I can, and when I am master of the situation, I shall announce + that the threatened gas companies are buying up the invention. Shares will + rise again, and I shall realize a goodly sum, which will be for the + benefit of the Universal Credit.” + </p> + <p> + “But for such a formidable speculation foreign agents will require + security?” + </p> + <p> + “I will offer it to them. I have here ten million francs’ worth of shares + in the European Credit belonging to Cayrol. We will give the cashier a + joint receipt for them. The speculation will last three days. It is safe, + and when the result is achieved we will replace the shares, and take back + the receipt.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” asked Serge, “is this plan of taking the shares which don’t belong + to us legal?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a transfer,” said Herzog, with simplicity. “Besides, don’t forget + that we have to do with Cayrol, that is to say with a partner.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we tell him of it,” insisted the Prince. + </p> + <p> + “No! The deuce! We should have to explain everything to him. He knows + what’s what, and would find the idea too good, and want a share of the + spoil. No! Sign that, and don’t be alarmed. The sheep will be back in the + fold before the shepherd comes to count them.” + </p> + <p> + A dark presentiment crossed Serge’s mind, and he was afraid. At that + moment, when his fate was being decided, he hesitated to go deeper into + the rut where he had already been walking too long. He stood silent and + undecided. Confused thoughts crowded his brain; his temples throbbed, and + a buzzing noise sounded in his ears. But the thought of giving up his + liberty, and again subjecting himself to Madame Desvarennes’s protection + was like the lash of a whip, and he blushed for having hesitated. + </p> + <p> + Herzog looked at him, and, smiling in a constrained way, said: + </p> + <p> + “You, too, may give up the affair if you like. If I share it with you it + is because you are so closely allied to me. I don’t so very much care to + cut the pear in two. Don’t think that I am begging of you to be my + partner! Do as you like.” + </p> + <p> + Serge caught hold of the paper and, having signed it, handed it to the + financier. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Herzog. “I shall leave to-night and be absent three + days. Watch the money market. You will see the results of my + calculations.” + </p> + <p> + And shaking hands with the Prince, Herzog went to the cashier to get the + scrip and deposit the receipt. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. SIN GROWS BOLDER + </h2> + <p> + There was a party at Cayrol’s. In the drawing-rooms of the mansion in the + Rue Taitbout everything was resplendent with lights, and there was quite a + profusion of flowers. Cayrol had thought of postponing the party, but was + afraid of rousing anxieties, and like an actor who, though he has just + lost his father, must play the following day, so Cayrol gave his party and + showed a smiling face, so as to prevent harm to his business. + </p> + <p> + Matters had taken a turn for the worse during the last three days. The + bold stroke, to carry out which Herzog had gone to London so as to be more + secret, had been got wind of. The fall of the shares had not taken place. + Working with considerable sums of money, the loss on the difference was as + great as the gains would have been. The shares belonging to the European + Credit Company had defrayed the cost of the game. It was a disaster. + Cayrol, in his anxiety, had applied for the scrip and had only found the + receipt given to the cashier. Although the transaction was most irregular, + Cayrol had not said anything; but, utterly cast down, had gone to Madame + Desvarennes to tell her of the fact. + </p> + <p> + The Prince was in bed, pretending to be ill. His wife, happily ignorant of + all that was going on, rejoiced secretly at his indisposition because she + was allowed to nurse him and have him all to herself. Panine, alarmed at + the check they had experienced, was expecting Herzog with feverish + impatience, and to keep out of sight had chosen the privacy of his own + room. + </p> + <p> + Still, Cayrol had been allowed to see him, and with great circumspection + told him that his non-appearance at the same time that Herzog was absent + was most fatal for the Universal Credit Company. It was absolutely + necessary that he should be seen in public. He must come to his party, and + appear with a calm face. Serge promised to come, and had imposed on + Micheline the heavy task of accompanying him to Jeanne’s. It was the first + time since her return from Nice that she had entered the house of her + husband’s mistress. + </p> + <p> + The concert was over, and a crowd of guests were coming from the large + drawing-room to the boudoir and little drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + “The symphony is over. Ouf!” said Savinien, yawning. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t like music?” asked Marechal, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, military music. But two hours of Schumann and Mendelssohn at high + pressure is too much for one man. But I say, Marechal, what do you think + of Mademoiselle Herzog’s being at Cayrol’s soiree. It is a little too + strong.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the father has bolted, and the daughter is preparing a dance. Each + has a different way of using their feet.” + </p> + <p> + “Very pretty, Monsieur Desvarennes, but I advise you to keep your flashes + of wit to yourself,” said Marechal, seriously. “That may not suit + everybody.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Marechal, you, too, making a fuss!” + </p> + <p> + And turning on his heel, he went to the refreshment table. + </p> + <p> + Prince and Princess Panine were just coming in. Micheline was smiling, and + Serge was pale, though calm. Cayrol and Jeanne came toward them. Everybody + turned to look at them. Jeanne, without embarrassment, shook hands with + her friend. Cayrol bowed respectfully to Micheline. + </p> + <p> + “Princess,” he said, “will you honor me by taking my arm? You are just in + time, they are going to begin dancing.” + </p> + <p> + “Not myself, though, thank you,” replied Micheline, with a sad smile, “I + am still very weak, but I will look on.” + </p> + <p> + And on Cayrol’s arm she entered the large drawing-room. Serge followed + with Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + The festivities were at their height. The orchestra was playing a waltz, + and in a whirl of silk and gauze the young people seemed to be thoroughly + enjoying themselves. + </p> + <p> + Suzanne Herzog was sitting alone near a window, in a simple white dress, + and without a single ornament. Marechal had just approached her, and she + had welcomed him with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not dancing to-night, Mademoiselle?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am waiting to be invited,” she answered, sadly, “and, like sister Anne, + I see nobody coming. There are ugly reports abroad about my father’s + fortune, and the Argonauts are drawing off.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you give me a dance?” said Marechal. “I don’t dance to perfection, + never having practised much, but with a good will.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Monsieur Marechal, I would rather talk. I am not very cheerful + to-night, and, believe me, I only came because Madame Desvarennes wished + it. I would rather have remained at home. Business has gone wrong with my + father by what I can hear, for I don’t know what goes on at the office. I + feel more inclined to cry than to laugh. Not that I regret the loss of + money, you know; I don’t care for it, but my father must be in despair.” + </p> + <p> + Marechal listened silently to Suzanne, not daring to tell her what he + thought of Herzog, and respected the real ignorance or willing blindness + of the young girl who did not doubt her father’s loyalty. + </p> + <p> + The Princess, leaning on Cayrol’s arm, had just finished promenading round + the rooms, when she perceived Suzanne and, leaving the banker, came and + seated herself beside her. Many of the guests looked at each other and + whispered words which Micheline did not hear, and if she had heard would + not have understood. “It is heroic!” some said. Others answered, “It is + the height of impudence.” + </p> + <p> + The Princess was talking with Suzanne and was looking at her husband who, + leaning against a door, was following Jeanne with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + At a sign from Cayrol, Marechal left the room. The secretary joined Madame + Desvarennes, who had come with Pierre and had remained in Cayrol’s private + office. During this party matters of moment were to be discussed, and a + consultation was about to take place between the interested parties. On + seeing Marechal enter, Madame only uttered one word: + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol?” + </p> + <p> + “Here he is,” answered the secretary. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol came in, hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he asked, with great anxiety, “have you any news?” + </p> + <p> + “Pierre has just come from London,” answered the mistress. “What we feared + is true. Herzog, conjointly with my son-in-law, has made use of the ten + millions belonging to the European Credit.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that Herzog has really bolted?” inquired Marechal. + </p> + <p> + “No! he is too deep for that,” replied Cayrol. “He will return. He knows + that in compromising the Prince it is as if he had compromised the firm of + Desvarennes, therefore he is quite easy on the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Can the one be saved without the other?” asked the mistress. + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible. Herzog has so firmly bound up his interests with those + of the Prince that it will be necessary to extricate both or let both + perish together.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we must save Herzog into the bargain, then!” said Madame + Desvarennes, coldly. “But by what means?” + </p> + <p> + “These,” answered Cayrol. “The shares taken away by Herzog, under the + security of the Prince’s signature, were deposited by the shareholders. + When the Universal Credit removed to its new offices, these shares were + taken away by mistake. It will suffice to replace the scrip. I will give + back the receipt to the Prince and all trace of this deplorable affair + will be wiped out.” + </p> + <p> + “But the numbers of the shares will not be the same,” said Madame + Desvarennes, accustomed to minute regularity in all operations. + </p> + <p> + “We can explain the change by feigning a sale when they were high, and + buying them up when low. We will show a profit, and the shareholders will + not quarrel. Besides, I reserve the right of divulging Herzog’s fraud + without implicating Panine, if the shareholders insist. Trust me, I will + catch Herzog another time. It is my stupid confidence in that man which + has been partly the cause of this disaster. I will make your business mine + and force him to shell out. I shall leave for London to-night, by the 1.50 + train. Promptness of action in such a case is the first step toward + success.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Cayrol,” said the mistress. “Have my daughter and the Prince + arrived?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Serge is calm; he has more power over himself than I could have + believed.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter to him what is going on? Is it he who will feel the + blow? No. He knows that I shall go on working to keep him in idleness and + maintain him in luxury. I may think myself lucky if he is reclaimed by + this hard lesson, and does not again begin to rummage in other people’s + safes, for then I should be unable to save him.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress rose and, with flashing eyes, walked up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the wretch!” she said. “If ever my daughter ceases to come between + him and me!” + </p> + <p> + A terrible gesture finished the sentence. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, Marechal, and Pierre looked at each other. The same thought came + to their minds, dark and fearful. In a paroxysm of rage this fond mother, + this energetic and passionate woman, would be capable of killing any one. + </p> + <p> + “You remember what I told you one day,” murmured Marechal, approaching + Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “I would prefer the hatred of ten men to that of such a woman,” answered + Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol!” continued Madame Desvarennes, after a few moments of meditation, + “the conduct of the business of which you spoke to us a little while ago + depends solely on you, does it not?” + </p> + <p> + “On me alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Do it at once, then, cost me what it may. Has it been noised abroad?” + </p> + <p> + “No one has the slightest suspicion. I have not mentioned it to a living + soul,” said the banker—“except to my wife,” added he with a + frankness which drew a smile from Pierre. “But my wife and I are one.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she say?” asked Madame Desvarenes, looking straight at Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “If I had been the person concerned,” he said, “she could not possibly + have been more affected. She loves you so much, Madame, you and those + belonging to you. She besought me to do all in my power to get the Prince + out of this scrape. She had tears in her eyes: And, truly, if I did not + feel bound to serve you from gratitude I would do it for her sake and to + give her pleasure. I was touched, I can assure you. Really, she has a + heart!” + </p> + <p> + Marechal exchanged a look with Madame Desvarennes, who advanced toward the + banker, and shook him by the hand, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol, you are truly a good man!” + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said Cayrol, smiling to hide his emotion, “and you may rely + upon me.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline appeared on the threshold of the room. Through the half-open + door the dancers could be seen passing to and fro, and the sound of music + floated in the air. + </p> + <p> + “What has become of you, mamma? I hear that you have been here for more + than an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I was talking on business matters with these gentlemen,” answered Madame + Desvarennes, smoothing from her brow the traces of her cares by an effort + of will. “But you, dear, how do you feel? Are you not tired?” + </p> + <p> + “Not more so than usual,” replied Micheline, looking round to follow the + movements of her husband, who was trying to reach Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you come to this party? It was unwise.” + </p> + <p> + “Serge wished me to come, and I did not care to let him come without me.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! dear me!” exclaimed Madame Desvarennes. “Let him do what he likes. + Men are savages. When you are ill it won’t hurt him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not ill, and I won’t be,” resumed Micheline, warmly. “We are going + away now.” + </p> + <p> + She motioned to Serge with her fan. Panine came to her. + </p> + <p> + “You will take me home, won’t you, Serge?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, dear one,” answered Serge. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne, who was listening at a distance, raised her hand to her forehead + as a sign that she wanted him. A feeling of surprise came over the Prince, + and he did not understand what she meant. Micheline had seen the sign. A + deadly pallor spread over her features, and a cold perspiration broke out + on her forehead. She felt so ill that she could have cried out. It was the + first time she had seen Serge and Jeanne together since the dreadful + discovery at Nice. She had avoided witnessing their meeting, feeling + uncertain of herself, and fearing to lose her self-control. But seeing the + two lovers before her, devouring each other with their looks, and making + signs to each other, made her feel most terribly jealous and angry. + </p> + <p> + Serge had decided to obey the imperious signs which Jeanne made to him, + and turning toward his wife, said: + </p> + <p> + “I remember now, my dear, that before going home I must call at the club. + I promised, and cannot put it off. Excuse my not going with you, and ask + your mother to accompany you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Micheline, in a trembling voice. “I will ask her. You + are not going just yet?” + </p> + <p> + “In a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “I, too, shall leave in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + The young wife did not want to lose one detail of the horrible comedy + being played under her very eyes. She remained to learn, unawares, the + reason for which Jeanne kept her husband. + </p> + <p> + Not thinking that he was watched, Serge had gone across to Jeanne, and + affecting a smile, inquired: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Serious news.” And she explained that she must speak to her lover that + evening. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” Serge asked, with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” answered Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “But your husband?” the Prince said. + </p> + <p> + “Is leaving in an hour. Our guests will not remain late. Go to the garden, + and wait in the pavilion. The door of the back stairs leading to my + dressing-room will be open. When everybody has gone, come up.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care; we are observed,” said Serge, uneasily. + </p> + <p> + And they began to laugh with affectation and talked aloud about frivolous + things, as if nothing serious were occupying their thoughts. Cayrol had + come back again. He went up to Madame Desvarennes, who was talking with + her daughter, and, full of business, thoughtlessly said: + </p> + <p> + “I will telegraph you as soon as I reach London.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going away?” inquired Micheline, a light dawning on her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Cayrol; “I have an important matter to settle.” + </p> + <p> + “And when do you start?” continued Micheline, in such a changed voice that + her mother was frightened. + </p> + <p> + “In a moment,” answered the banker. “Allow me to leave you. I have several + orders to give.” + </p> + <p> + And leaving the boudoir, he regained the little drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Micheline, with clinched hands and fixed gaze, was saying to herself: + </p> + <p> + “She will be alone to-night, and has asked him to come to her. He told me + an untruth about his having to go to the club. He is going to see her!” + </p> + <p> + And passing her hand across her brow, as if to drive away an unpleasant + thought, the young wife remained silent, dismayed and crushed. + </p> + <p> + “Micheline, what is the matter with you?” asked Madame Desvarennes, + seizing her daughter’s hand, which was icy cold. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” stammered Micheline. + </p> + <p> + “You are ill, I see. Come, let us go home. Come and kiss Jeanne—” + </p> + <p> + “I!” cried Micheline, with horror, instinctively recoiling as if dreading + some impure contact. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes became suddenly cold and calm. She foresaw a terrible + revelation, and observing her daughter narrowly, said: + </p> + <p> + “Why do you cry out when I speak of your kissing Jeanne? Whatever is the + matter?” + </p> + <p> + Micheline grasped her mother’s arm, and pointed to Serge and Jeanne, who + were in the little drawing-room, laughing and talking, surrounded by a + group of people, yet alone. + </p> + <p> + “Look at them!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” exclaimed the mother in agony. She read the truth in + her daughter’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You know—” she began. + </p> + <p> + “That he is her lover,” cried Micheline, interrupting her. “Don’t you see + that I am dying through it?” she added, sobbing bitterly and falling into + her mother’s arms. + </p> + <p> + The mistress carried her as if she had been a child into Cayrol’s private + office, and shut the door. Then, kneeling beside the couch on which + Micheline was stretched, she gave vent to her grief. She begged her + daughter to speak to her, and warmed her hands with kisses; then, seeing + her still cold and motionless, she was frightened, and wanted to call for + help. + </p> + <p> + “No; be quiet!” murmured Micheline, recovering. “Let no one know. I ought + to have held my peace; but I have suffered so much I could not help + myself. + </p> + <p> + “My life is blasted, you see. Take me away; save me from this infamy! + Jeanne, my sister, and Serge. Oh! make me forget it! For pity’s sake, + mamma, you who are so strong, you who have always done what you wished, + take from my heart all the pain that is there!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, overcome by such a load of grief, lost command of + herself, and, quite brokenhearted, began to cry and moan. + </p> + <p> + “O God! Micheline, my poor child! you were suffering so and did not tell + me. Oh! I knew you no longer trusted your old mother. And I stupidly did + not guess it! I said to myself, at least she knows nothing about it, and + sacrificed everything to keep the knowledge of their wrong-doing from you. + Don’t cry any more, darling, you will break my heart. I, who would have + given up everything in the world to see you happy! Oh, I have loved you + too much! How I am punished!” + </p> + <p> + “It is I who am punished,” said Micheline, sobbing, “for not obeying you. + Ah! children ought always to heed their mother. She divines the danger. Is + it not too horrible, mamma? I, who have sacrificed everything for him, to + think that he does not love me, and never will love me! What will my life + be without confidence, hope, or affection? I am too unhappy. It would be + better to die!” + </p> + <p> + “Die! you!” cried her mother, whose eyes, wet with tears, dried in a + moment, as if by an inward fire. “Die! Come, don’t talk such nonsense! + Because a man treats you with scorn and betrays you? Are men worth dying + for? No, you shall live, my darling, with your old mother. You shall have + a deed of separation from your husband.” + </p> + <p> + “And he will be free,” exclaimed Micheline, angrily. “He will go on loving + her! Oh! I cannot bear that thought. Do you know, what I am going to tell + you seems awful. I love him so much, that I would rather see him dead than + unfaithful.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes was struck, and remained silent. Serge dead! That idea + had already occurred to her as a dream of deliverance. It came upon her + peremptorily, violently, irresistibly. She repelled it with an effort. + </p> + <p> + “I can never think of him but as vile and odious,” continued Micheline. + “Every day his sin will seem more dastardly and his hypocrisy more base. + There, a little while ago, he was smiling; and do you know why? Because + Cayrol is going away, and during his absence Serge will return here + tonight.” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you?” + </p> + <p> + “I read it in his joyful looks. I love him. He cannot hide anything from + me. A traitor to me, and a traitor toward his friend, that is the man whom—I + am ashamed to own it—I love!” + </p> + <p> + “Compose yourself! Someone is coming,” said Madame Desvarennes, and at the + same time the door opened and Jeanne appeared, followed by Marechal, who + was anxious at their disappearance. + </p> + <p> + “Is Micheline ill?” inquired Madame Cayrol, coming forward. + </p> + <p> + “No; it is nothing. Just a little fatigue,” said Madame Desvarennes. + “Marechal, give my daughter your arm, and take her to her carriage. I + shall be down in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + And holding Jeanne by the hand to prevent her following Micheline, she + added: + </p> + <p> + “Stay; I have something to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne looked surprised. Madame Desvarennes was silent for a moment. She + was thinking about Serge coming there that night. She had only to say one + word to Cayrol to prevent his going away. The life of this wretch was + entirely in her hands then! But Jeanne! Was she going to ruin her? Had she + the right thus to destroy one who had struggled and had defended herself? + Would it be just? Jeanne had been led on against her will. She must + question her. If the poor girl were suffering, if she repented, she must + spare her. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes, having thus made up her mind, turned toward Jeanne who + was waiting. + </p> + <p> + “It is a long time since I have seen you, my dear, and I find you happy + and smiling. It is the first time since your marriage that you have seemed + so happy.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne looked at the mistress without answering. In these words she + detected irony. + </p> + <p> + “You have found peace,” continued Madame Desvarennes, looking steadfastly + at Jeanne with her piercing eyes. “You see, my dear, when you have a clear + conscience—for you have nothing to reproach yourself with?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne saw in this sentence a question and not an affirmation. She + answered, boldly: + </p> + <p> + “Nothing!” + </p> + <p> + “You know that I love you, and would be most lenient,” continued Madame + Desvarennes, sweetly, “and that you might safely confide in me!” + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing to fear, having nothing to tell,” said Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing?” repeated the mistress, with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” affirmed Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes once more looked at her adopted daughter as if she + would read her very soul. She found her quite calm. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then!” said she, hastily walking toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going already?” asked Jeanne, offering her brow to Madame + Desvarennes’s lips. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, good-by!” said the latter, with an icy kiss. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne, without again turning round, went into the drawing-room. At the + same moment, Cayrol, in a travelling-coat, entered the office, followed by + Pierre. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, quite ready,” said the banker to Madame Desvarennes. “Have you + any new suggestion to make to me, or anything else to say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Madame Desvarennes, in a stern voice which made Cayrol + start. + </p> + <p> + “Then make haste. I have only a moment to spare, and you know the train + waits for no one.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not go!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, in amazement, answered: + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean it? Your interests are at stake yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “Your honor is in danger here,” cried the mistress, vehemently. + </p> + <p> + “My honor!” repeated Cayrol, starting back. “Madame, do you know what you + are saying?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay!” answered Madame Desvarennes. “And do you remember what I promised + you? I undertook to warn you, myself, if ever the day came when you would + be threatened.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” questioned Cayrol, turning quite livid. + </p> + <p> + “Well! I keep my promise. If you wish to know who your rival is, come home + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Some inaudible words rattled in Cayrol’s throat. + </p> + <p> + “A rival! in my house! Can Jeanne be guilty? Do you know, if it is true I + will kill them both!” + </p> + <p> + “Deal with them as your conscience dictates,” said Madame Desvarennes. “I + have acted according to mine.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre, hitherto dumb with horror at the scene of which he had been a + witness, shook off his stupor, and going up to Madame Desvarennes, said: + </p> + <p> + “Madame, do you know that what you have just done is frightful!” + </p> + <p> + “How? That man will be acting within his rights the same as I am. They are + seeking to take away his wife, and they are killing my daughter, and + dishonoring me! We are defending ourselves! Woe to those who are guilty of + the crime!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol had fallen, as if thunderstruck, on a chair, with haggard eyes; his + voice was gone, and he looked the image of despair. Madame Desvarennes’s + words came back to him like the refrain of a hated song. To himself he + kept repeating, without being able to chase away the one haunting thought: + “Her lover, to-night, at your house!” He felt as if he were going mad. He + was afraid he should not have time to wreak his vengeance. He made a + terrible effort, and, moaning with grief, he arose. + </p> + <p> + “Take care!” said Pierre. “Here’s your wife.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol eyed Jeanne, who was approaching. Burning tears came to his eyes. + He murmured: + </p> + <p> + “She, with a look so pure, and a face so calm! Is it possible?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded a farewell to Pierre and Madame Desvarennes, who were leaving, + and recovering himself, advanced to meet Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “Are you off?” she inquired. “You know you have no time to lose!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol shuddered. She seemed anxious to get rid of him. + </p> + <p> + “I have still a few minutes to spend with you,” he said, with emotion. + “You see, Jeanne, I am sad at going away alone. It is the first time I + have left you. In a moment our guests will be gone—I beg of you, + come with me!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne smiled. “But you see, dear, I am in evening dress.” + </p> + <p> + “The night of our marriage I brought you away from Cernay like that. Wrap + yourself up in your furs, and come! Give me this proof of affection. I + deserve it. I am not a bad man—and I love you so!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne frowned. This pressing vexed her. + </p> + <p> + “This is childish,” she said. “You will return the day after tomorrow, and + I am tired. Have some pity for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You refuse?” asked Cayrol, becoming gloomy and serious. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne touched his face slightly with her white hand. + </p> + <p> + “Come! Don’t leave me in a temper! You won’t miss me much, you will sleep + all the way. Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol kissed her; in a choking voice, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + And he left her. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne’s face brightened, as she stood listening for a moment and heard + the carriage which contained her husband rolling away. Uttering a sigh of + relief, she murmured: + </p> + <p> + “At last!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. THE CRISIS + </h2> + <p> + Jeanne had just taken off her ball-dress to put on a dressing-gown of + Oriental cloth richly embroidered with silk flowers. Leaning her elbows on + the mantelpiece, and breathing heavily, she was waiting. Her maid came in, + bringing a second lamp. The additional light displayed the rich warm + hangings of ruby plush embroidered in dull gold. The bed seemed one mass + of lace. + </p> + <p> + “Has everybody gone?” asked Jeanne, pretending to yawn. + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs Le Brede and Du Tremblay, the last guests, are just putting on + their overcoats,” answered the maid. “But Monsieur Pierre Delarue has come + back, and is asking whether Madame will speak with him for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Delarue?” repeated Jeanne, with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “He says he has something important to say to Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” asked Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “There, in the gallery. The lights were being put out in the + drawing-room.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, show him in.” + </p> + <p> + The maid went out. Jeanne, much puzzled, asked herself, what could have + brought Pierre back? It must certainly be something very important. She + had always felt somewhat awed in Pierre’s presence. At that moment the + idea of being face to face with the young man was most distressing to her. + </p> + <p> + A curtain was lifted and Pierre appeared. He remained silent and confused + at the entrance of the room, his courage had deserted him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Jeanne, with assumed stiffness, “whatever is the matter, my + friend?” + </p> + <p> + “The matter is, my dear Jeanne,” began Pierre, “that—” + </p> + <p> + But the explanation did not seem so very easy to give, for he stopped and + could not go on. + </p> + <p> + “That?” repeated Madame Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” resumed Pierre. “I am greatly embarrassed. In coming + here I obeyed a sudden impulse. I did not think of the manner in which I + should tell you what I have to say, and I see that I shall have to run a + great risk of offending you.” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne assumed a haughty air. + </p> + <p> + “Well, but, my dear friend, if what you have to say is so difficult, don’t + say it.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” retorted Pierre. “My silence would cause irreparable + mischief. In mercy, Jeanne, make my task easier! Meet me half way! You + have projects for to-night which are known. Danger threatens you. Take + care!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne shuddered. But controlling herself, she answered, laughing + nervously: + </p> + <p> + “What rubbish are you talking about? I am at home, surrounded by my + servants, and I have nothing to fear. I beg of you to believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “You deny it!” exclaimed Pierre. “I expected as much. But you are only + taking useless trouble. Come, Jeanne, I am the friend of your childhood; + you have no reason to fear aught from me. I am only trying to be of use to + you. You must know that, by my coming here, I know all. Jeanne, listen to + me!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad?” interrupted the young woman, proudly, “or are you taking + part in some absurd joke?” + </p> + <p> + “I am in my right mind, unfortunately for you!” said Pierre, roughly, + seeing that Jeanne refused to believe him. “And there is no joke in the + matter. Everything is true, serious and terrible! Since you compel me to + say things which may be unpalatable, they must out. Prince Panine is in + your house, or he soon will be. Your husband, whom you think far away, is + within call, perhaps, and will come and take you unawares. Is not that a + serious matter?” + </p> + <p> + A frown overspread her face, and in an ungovernable rage she stepped + forward, determined not to give in, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Go away! or I shall call for assistance!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t call, it would look bad!” resumed Pierre, calmly. “On the contrary, + let the servants get out of the way, and get the Prince to go if he be + here, or if he has not yet arrived, prevent his coming in. So long as I + remain here you will dissimulate your fear and will not take any + precautions. I will leave you, then. Adieu, Jeanne! Believe that I wished + to render you a service, and be sure that when I have crossed the + threshold of this door I shall have forgotten everything that I may have + said.” + </p> + <p> + Pierre bowed, and, lifting the heavy curtain which hid the door leading to + the gallery, went out. + </p> + <p> + He had hardly gone when the opposite door opened, and Serge entered the + room. The young woman rushed into his arms and whispered into his ear, + with trembling lips: + </p> + <p> + “Serge, we are lost!” + </p> + <p> + “I was there,” answered Panine. “I heard all.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” cried Jeanne, terrified. + </p> + <p> + “Go away at once. To remain here a moment longer is an imprudence.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, if I remain, what shall I say to Cayrol when he comes?” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband!” said Serge, bitterly. “He loves you, he will forgive you.” + </p> + <p> + “I know; but then we two shall be separated for ever. Is that what you + desire?” + </p> + <p> + “And what can I do?” cried Serge, in despair. “Everything around me is + giving way! Fortune, which has been my one aim in life, is escaping from + me. The family which I have scorned is forsaking me. The friendship which + I have betrayed overwhelms me. There is nothing left to me.” + </p> + <p> + “And my love, my devotion?” exclaimed Jeanne, passionately. “Do you think + that I will leave you? We must go away. I asked you long ago. You + resisted; the moment has now come. Be easy! Madame Desvarennes will pay + and save your name. In exchange you will give her back her daughter. You + don’t care about her, because you love me. I am your real wife; she who + ought to share your life. Well, I take back my rights. I pay for them with + my honor. I break all ties which could hold me back. I am yours, Serge! + Our sin and misfortune will bind us more closely than any laws could.” + </p> + <p> + “Think, that with me you will have to endure poverty, and, perhaps, + misery,” said the Prince, moved by the young woman’s infatuation. + </p> + <p> + “My love will make you forget everything!” + </p> + <p> + “You will not feel regret or remorse?” + </p> + <p> + “Never, so long as you love me.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, then,” said the Prince, taking Jeanne in his arms. “And if life is + too hard—” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” added Jeanne, finishing the sentence with sparkling eyes, “we will + seek refuge together in death! Come!” + </p> + <p> + Serge bolted the door, through which Pierre had passed, and which alone + communicated with the other apartments. Then, taking his mistress by the + hand, he went with her into the dressing-room. Jeanne threw a dark cloak + round her shoulders, put a hat on her head, and without taking either + money, jewels, lace, or, in fact, anything that she had received from + Cayrol, they went down the little back stairs. + </p> + <p> + It was very dark. Jeanne did not take a light, as she did not care to + attract attention, so they had to feel every step of the way as quietly as + possible, striving not to make the least noise, holding their breath, and + with beating hearts. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Jeanne + stretched out her hand, and sought the handle of the door which opened + into the courtyard. She turned it, but the door would not open. She + pushed, but it did not give way. Jeanne uttered a low groan. Serge shook + it vigorously, but it would not open. + </p> + <p> + “It has been fastened on the outside,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Fastened?” murmured Jeanne, seized with fear. “Fastened, and by whom?” + </p> + <p> + Serge did not answer. The idea that Cayrol had done it came to his mind at + once. The husband lying in wait, had seen him enter, and to prevent his + escaping from his vengeance had cut off all means of retreating. + </p> + <p> + Silently, they went upstairs again, into the room through the + dressing-room. Jeanne took off her bonnet and cloak, and sank into an + armchair. + </p> + <p> + “I must get away!” said Serge, with suppressed rage; and he walked toward + the door of the gallery. + </p> + <p> + “No! don’t open that,” cried Jeanne, excitedly. + </p> + <p> + And with a frightened look, she added: + </p> + <p> + “What if he were behind the door?” + </p> + <p> + At the same moment, as if Jeanne’s voice had indeed evoked Cayrol, a heavy + step was heard approaching along the gallery, a hand tried to open the + bolted door. Serge and Jeanne remained motionless, waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Jeanne!” called the voice of Cayrol from the outside, sounding mournfully + in the silence, “Jeanne, open!” + </p> + <p> + And with his fist he knocked imperatively on the woodwork. + </p> + <p> + “I know you are there! Open, I say!” he cried, with increasing rage. “If + you don’t open the door, I’ll—” + </p> + <p> + “Go! I beseech you!” whispered Jeanne, in Panine’s ear. “Go downstairs + again, and break open the door. You won’t find any one there now.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he has stationed some one there,” answered Serge. “Besides, I + won’t leave you here alone exposed to his violence.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not alone. I can hear you talking!” said Cayrol, beside himself. + “I shall break open this door!” + </p> + <p> + The husband made a tremendous effort. Under the pressure of his heavy + weight the lock gave way. With a bound he was in the middle of the room. + Jeanne threw herself before him; she no longer trembled. Cayrol took + another step and fixed his glaring eyes on the man whom he sought, + uttering a fearful oath. + </p> + <p> + “Serge!” cried he. “I might have guessed it. It is not only money of which + you are robbing me, you villain!” + </p> + <p> + Panine turned horribly pale, and advanced toward Cayrol, despite Jeanne, + who was clinging to him. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t insult me; it is superfluous,” said he. “My life belongs to you; + you can take it. I shall be at your service whenever you please.” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol burst into a fearful laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! a duel! Come! Am I a gentleman? I am a plebeian! a rustic! a cowherd! + you know that! I have you now! I am going to smash you!” + </p> + <p> + He looked round the room as if seeking a weapon, and caught sight of the + heavy fire-dogs. He caught up one with a cry of triumph, and, brandishing + it like a club, rushed at Serge. + </p> + <p> + More rapid than he, Jeanne threw herself before her lover. She stretched + out her arms, and with a sharp voice, and the look of a she-wolf defending + her cubs, + </p> + <p> + “Keep behind me,” said she to Serge; “he loves me and will not dare to + strike!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol had stopped. At these words he uttered a loud cry: “wretched woman! + You first, then!” + </p> + <p> + Raising his weapon, he was about to strike, when his eyes met Jeanne’s. + The young woman was smiling, happy to die for her lover. Her pale face + beamed from out her black hair with weird beauty. Cayrol trembled. That + look which he had loved, would he never see it again? That rosy mouth, + whose smile he cherished, would it be hushed in death? A thousand thoughts + of happy days came to his mind. His arm fell. A bitter flood rushed from + his heart to his eyes; the iron dropped heavily from his hand on to the + floor, and the poor man, overcome, sobbing, and ashamed of his weakness, + fell senseless on a couch. + </p> + <p> + Jeanne did not utter a word. By a sign she showed Serge the door, which + was open, and with a swollen heart she leaned on the mantelpiece, waiting + for the unfortunate man, from whom she had received such a deep and sad + proof of love, to come back to life. + </p> + <p> + Serge had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. “WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT” + </h2> + <p> + The night seemed long to Madame Desvarennes. Agitated and feverish, she + listened through the silence, expecting every moment to hear some fearful + news. In fancy she saw Cayrol entering his wife’s room like a madman, + unawares. She seemed to hear a cry of rage, answered by a sigh of terror; + then a double shot resounded, the room filled with smoke, and, struck down + in their guilty love, Serge and Jeanne rolled in death, interlaced in each + other’s arms, like Paolo and Francesca de Rimini, those sad lovers of whom + Dante tells us. + </p> + <p> + Hour after hour passed; not a sound disturbed the mansion. The Prince had + not come in. Madame Desvarennes, unable to lie in bed, arose, and now and + again, to pass the time, stole on tiptoe to her daughter’s room. + Micheline, thoroughly exhausted with fatigue and emotion, had fallen + asleep on her pillow, which was wet with tears. + </p> + <p> + Bending over her, by the light of the lamp, the mistress gazed at + Micheline’s pale face, and a sigh rose to her lips. + </p> + <p> + “She is still young,” she thought; “she may begin life afresh. The + remembrance of these sad days will be wiped out, and I shall see her + revive and smile again. That wretch was nearly the death of her.” + </p> + <p> + And the image of Serge and Jeanne stretched beside each other in the room + full of smoke came before her eyes again. She shook her head to chase the + importunate vision away, and noiselessly regained her own apartment. + </p> + <p> + The day dawned pale and bleak. Madame Desvarennes opened her window and + cooled her burning brow in the fresh morning air. The birds were awake, + and were singing on the trees in the garden. + </p> + <p> + Little by little, the distant sound of wheels rolling by was heard. The + city was awakening from its sleep. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes rang and asked for Marechal. The secretary appeared + instantly. He, too, had shared the anxieties and fears of the mistress, + and had risen early. Madame Desvarennes greeted him with a grateful smile. + She felt that she was really loved by this good fellow, who understood her + so thoroughly. She begged him to go to Cayrol’s, and gain some + information, without giving him further details, and she waited, walking + up and down the room to calm the fever of her mind. + </p> + <p> + On leaving the house in the Rue Taitbout, Serge felt bewildered, not + daring to go home, and unable to decide on any plan; yet feeling that it + was necessary to fix on something without delay, he reached the club. The + walk did him good, and restored his physical equilibrium. He was thankful + to be alive after such a narrow escape. He went upstairs with a + comparatively light step, and tossed his overcoat to a very sleepy footman + who had risen to receive him. He went into the card-room. Baccarat was + just finishing. It was three o’clock in the morning. The appearance of the + Prince lent the game a little fresh animation. Serge plunged into it as if + it were a battle. Luck was on his side. In a short time he cleared the + bank: a thousand louis. One by one the players retired. Panine, left + alone, threw himself on a couch and slept for a few hours, but it was not + a refreshing sleep. On the contrary, it made him feel more tired. + </p> + <p> + The day servants disturbed him when they came in to sweep the rooms and + open the windows. He went into the lavatory, and there bathed his face. + When his ablutions were over he wrote a note to Jeanne, saying that he had + reflected, and could not possibly let her go away with him. He implored + her to do all in her power to forget him. He gave this letter to one of + the messengers, and told him to give it into the hands of Madame Cayrol’s + maid, and to none other. + </p> + <p> + The care of a woman and the worry of another household seemed unbearable + to him. Besides, what could he do with Jeanne? The presence of his + mistress would prevent his being able to go back to Micheline. And now he + felt that his only hope of safety was in Micheline’s love for him. + </p> + <p> + But first of all he must go and see if Herzog had returned, and ascertain + the real facts of the position in regard to the Universal Credit Company. + </p> + <p> + Herzog occupied a little house on the Boulevard Haussmann, which he had + hired furnished from some Americans. The loud luxury of the Yankees had + not frightened him. On the contrary, he held that the gay colors of the + furniture and the glitter of the gilded cornices were bound to have a + fascination for prospective shareholders. Suzanne had reserved a little + corner for herself, modestly hung with muslin and furnished with simple + taste, which was a great contrast to the loud appearance of the other part + of the house. + </p> + <p> + On arriving, Serge found a stableman washing a victoria. Herzog had + returned. The Prince quietly went up the steps, and had himself announced. + </p> + <p> + The financier was sitting in his study by the window, looking through the + newspapers. When Serge entered he rose. The two men stood facing each + other for a moment. The Prince was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “How is it that you have kept me without news during your absence?” asked + he, harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” replied Herzog, calmly, “the only news I had was not good + news.” + </p> + <p> + “At least I should have known it.” + </p> + <p> + “Would the result of the operation have been different?” + </p> + <p> + “You have led me like a child in this affair,” Serge continued, becoming + animated. “I did not know where I was going. You made me promises, how + have you kept them?” + </p> + <p> + “As I was able,” quietly answered Herzog. “Play has its chances. One seeks + Austerlitz and finds Waterloo.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” cried the Prince, angrily, “the shares which you sold ought not to + have gone out of your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “You believed that?” retorted the financier, ironically. “If they ought + not to have gone out of my hands it was hardly worth while putting them + into them.” + </p> + <p> + “In short,” said Panine, eager to find some responsible party on whom he + could pour out all the bitterness of his misfortune, “you took a mean + advantage of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! I expected you to say that!” returned Herzog, smiling. “If the + business had succeeded, you would have accepted your share of the spoil + without any scruples, and would have felt ready to crown me. It has + failed; you are trying to get out of the responsibility, and are on the + point of treating me as if I were a swindler. Still, the affair would not + have been more honest in the first instance than in the second, but + success embellishes everything.” + </p> + <p> + Serge looked hard at Herzog. + </p> + <p> + “What is there to prove,” replied he, “that this speculation, which brings + ruin and loss to me, does not enrich you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ungrateful fellow!” observed the financier, ironically, “you suspect me!” + </p> + <p> + “Of having robbed me!” cried Serge, in a rage. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + Herzog, for a moment, lost his temper and turned red in the face. He + seized Panine violently by the arm, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Gently, Prince; whatever insults you heap upon me must be shared by you. + You are my partner.” + </p> + <p> + “Scoundrel!” yelled Panine, exasperated at being held by Herzog. + </p> + <p> + “Personalities,” said the financier, in a jesting tone. “Then I take my + leave!” + </p> + <p> + And loosing his hold of the Prince, he went toward the door. + </p> + <p> + Serge sprang after him, exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “You shall not leave this room until you have given me the means of + rectifying this disaster.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us talk sensibly, as boon companions,” said Herzog. “I know of a + marvellous move by which we can get out of the difficulty. Let us boldly + call a general meeting. I will explain the thing, and amaze everybody. We + shall get a vote of confidence for the past, with funds for the future. We + shall be as white as snow, and the game is played. Are you in with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough,” replied the Prince, intensely disgusted. “It does not suit me to + do a yet more shameful thing in order to get out of this trouble. It is no + use arguing further; we are lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Only the weak allow themselves to be lost!” exclaimed the financier. “The + strong defend themselves. You may give in if you like; I won’t. Three + times have I been ruined and three times have I risen again. My head is + good! I am down now. I shall rise again, and when I am well off, and have + a few millions to spare, I will settle old debts. Everybody will be + astonished because they won’t expect it, and I shall be more thought of + than if I had paid up at the time.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you are not allowed to go free?” asked Serge. “What if they arrest + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be in Aix-la-Chapelle to-night,” said Herzog. “From there I shall + treat with the shareholders of the Universal Credit. People judge things + better at a distance. Are you coming with me?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Serge, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong. Fortune is capricious, and in six months we may be richer + than we ever have been. But as you have decided, let me give you a piece + of advice which will be worth the money you have lost. Confess all to your + wife; she can get you out of this difficulty.” + </p> + <p> + The financier held out a hand to Serge which he did not take. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! pride!” murmured Herzog. “After all it is your right—It is you + who pay!” + </p> + <p> + Without answering a word the Prince went out. + </p> + <p> + At that same hour, Madame Desvarennes, tired by long waiting, was pacing + up and down her little drawing-room. A door opened and Marechal, the + long-looked for messenger, appeared. He had been to Cayrol’s, but could + not see him. The banker, who had shut himself up in his private office + where he had worked all night, had given orders that no one should + interrupt him. And as Madame Desvarennes seemed to have a question on her + lips which she dared not utter, Marechal added that nothing unusual seemed + to have happened at the house. + </p> + <p> + But as the mistress was thanking her secretary, the great gate swung on + its hinges, and a carriage rolled into the courtyard. Marechal flew to the + window, and uttered one word, + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes motioned to him to leave her, and the banker appeared + on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + At a glance the mistress saw the ravages which the terrible night he had + passed through had caused. Yesterday, the banker was rosy, firm, and + upright as an oak, now he was bent, and withered like an old man. His hair + had become gray about the temples, as if scorched by his burning thoughts. + He was only the shadow of himself. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes advanced toward him, and in one word asked a world of + questions. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she said. + </p> + <p> + Cayrol, gloomy and fierce, raised his eyes to the mistress, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “Nothing!” + </p> + <p> + “Did he not come?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he came. But I had not the necessary energy to kill him. I thought + it was an easier matter to become a murderer. And you thought so too, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol!” cried Madame Desvarennes, shuddering, and troubled to find that + she had been so easily understood by him whom she had armed on her behalf. + </p> + <p> + “The opportunity was a rare one, though,” continued Cayrol, getting + excited. “Fancy; I found them together under my own roof. The law allowed + me, if not the actual right to kill them, at least an excuse if I did so. + Well, at the decisive moment, when I ought to have struck the blow, my + heart failed me. He lives, and Jeanne loves him.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Get rid of him in another way,” answered Cayrol. “I had only two ways of + killing him. One was to catch him in my own house, the other to call him + out. My will failed me in the one case; my want of skill would fail me in + the other. I will not fight Serge. Not because I fear death, for my life + is blighted, and I don’t value it; but if I were dead, Jeanne would belong + to him, and I could not bear the thought of that even in death. I must + separate them forever.” + </p> + <p> + “And how?” + </p> + <p> + “By forcing him to disappear.” + </p> + <p> + “And if he refuse?” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol shook his head menacingly, and exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “I defy him! If he resist, I will bring him before the assizes!” + </p> + <p> + “You?” said Madame Desvarennes, going nearer to Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I!” answered the banker, with energy. + </p> + <p> + “Wretched man! And my daughter?” cried the mistress. “Think well what you + are saying! You would disgrace me and mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I not dishonored myself?” asked Cayrol. “Your son-in-law is a robber, + who has defiled my home and robbed my safe.” + </p> + <p> + “An honest man does not seek to revenge himself after the manner you + suggest,” said the mistress, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “An honest man defends himself as he can. I am not a knight. I am only a + financier. Money is my weapon. The Prince has stolen from me. I will have + him sentenced as a thief.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes frowned. + </p> + <p> + “Make out your account. I will pay it.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you also pay me for my lost happiness?” cried the banker, + exasperated. “Should I not rather have chosen to be ruined than be + betrayed as I am? You can never repair the wrong he has done me. And then + I am suffering so, I must have my revenge!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! fool that you are,” replied Madame Desvarennes. “The guilty will not + feel your blows, but the innocent. When my daughter and I are in despair + will you be less unhappy! Oh! Cayrol, take heed that you lose not in + dignity what you gain in revenge. The less one is respected by others the + more one must respect one’s self. Contempt and silence elevate the victim, + while rage and hatred make him descend to the level of those who have + outraged him.” + </p> + <p> + “Let people judge me as they please. I care only for myself! I am a vulgar + soul, and have a low mind—anything you like. But the idea that that + woman belongs to another drives me mad. I ought to hate her, but, + notwithstanding everything, I cannot live without her. If she will come + back to me I will forgive her. It is ignoble! I feel it, but it is too + strong for me. I adore her!” + </p> + <p> + Before that blind love Madame Desvarennes shuddered. She thought of + Micheline who loved Serge as Cayrol loved Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose she chooses to go away with Serge,” said the mistress to herself. + In a moment she saw the house abandoned, Micheline and Serge in foreign + lands, and she alone in the midst of her overthrown happiness, dying of + sadness and regrets. She made a last effort to move Cayrol. + </p> + <p> + “Come, must I appeal in vain? Can you forget that I was a sure and devoted + friend to you, and that you owe your fortune to me? You are a good man and + will not forget the past. You have been outraged and have the right of + seeking revenge, but think that in carrying it out you will hurt two women + who have never done you any harm. Be generous! Be just! Spare us!” + </p> + <p> + Cayrol remained silent; his face did not relax. After a moment he said: + </p> + <p> + “You see how low I have fallen, by not yielding at once to your + supplications! Friendship, gratitude, generosity, all the good feelings I + had, have been consumed by this execrable love. There is nothing left but + love for her. For her, I forget everything. I degrade and debase myself. + And what is worse than all, is that I know all this and yet I cannot help + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Miserable man!” murmured the mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! most miserable,” sobbed Cayrol, falling into an armchair. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes approached him, and quietly placed her hand on his + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Cayrol, you are weeping? Then, forgive.” + </p> + <p> + The banker arose and, with lowering brow, said: + </p> + <p> + “No! my resolution is irrevocable. I wish to place a world between Jeanne + and Serge. If he has not gone away by tonight my complaint will be lodged + in the courts of justice.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes no longer persisted. She saw that the husband’s heart + was permanently closed. + </p> + <p> + “It is well. I thank you for having warned me. You might have taken action + without doing so. Good-by, Cayrol. I leave your conscience to judge + between you and me.” + </p> + <p> + The banker bowed, and murmured: + </p> + <p> + “Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + And with a heavy step, almost tottering, he went out. + </p> + <p> + The sun had risen, and lit up the trees in the garden. Nature seemed to be + making holiday. The flowers perfumed the air, and in the deep blue sky + swallows were flying to and fro. This earthly joy exasperated Madame + Desvarennes. She would have liked the world to be in mourning. She closed + the window hastily, and remained lost in her own reflections. + </p> + <p> + So everything was over! The great prosperity, the honor of the house, + everything was foundering in a moment. Even her daughter might escape from + her, and follow the infamous husband whom she adored in spite of his + faults—perhaps because of his very faults—and might drag on a + weary existence in a strange land, which would terminate in death. + </p> + <p> + For that sweet and delicate child could not live without material comforts + and mental ease, and her husband was doomed to go on from bad to worse, + and would drag her down with him! The mistress pictured her daughter, that + child whom she had brought up with the tenderest care, dying on a pallet, + and the husband, odious to the last, refusing her admission to the room + where Micheline was in agony. + </p> + <p> + A fearful feeling of anger overcame her. Her motherly love gained the + mastery, and in the silence of the room she roared out these words: + </p> + <p> + “That shall not be!” + </p> + <p> + The opening of the door recalled her to her senses, and she rose. It was + Marechal, greatly agitated. After Cayrol’s arrival, not knowing what to + do, he had gone to the Universal Credit Company, and there, to his + astonishment, had found the offices closed. He had heard from the porter, + one of those superb personages dressed in blue and red cloth, who were so + important in the eyes of the shareholders, that the evening before, owing + to the complaint of a director, the police had entered the offices, and + taken the books away, and that the official seal had been placed on the + doors. Marechal, much alarmed, had hastened back to Madame Desvarennes to + apprise her of the fact. It was evidently necessary to take immediate + steps to meet this new complication. Was this indeed the beginning of + legal proceedings? And if so how would the Prince come out of it? + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes listened to Marechal, without uttering a word. Events + were hurrying on even quicker than she had dreaded. The fears of the + interested shareholders outran even the hatred of Cayrol. What would the + judges call Herzog’s underhand dealings? Would it be embezzlement? Or + forgery? Would they come and arrest the Prince at her house? The house of + Desvarennes, which had never received a visit from a sheriff’s officer, + was it to be disgraced now by the presence of the police? + </p> + <p> + The mistress, in that fatal hour, became herself again. The strong-minded + woman of old reappeared. Marechal was more alarmed at this sudden vigor + than he had been at her late depression. When he saw Madame Desvarennes + going toward the door, he made an effort to detain her. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Madame?” he inquired, with anxiety. + </p> + <p> + The mistress gave him a look that terrified him, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “I am going to square accounts with the Prince.” + </p> + <p> + And, passing through the door leading to the little staircase, Madame + Desvarennes went up to her son-in-law’s rooms. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. THE MOTHER’S REVENGE + </h2> + <p> + On leaving Herzog, Serge had turned his steps toward the Rue + Saint-Dominique. He had delayed the moment of going home as long as + possible, but the streets were beginning to be crowded. He might meet some + people of his acquaintance. He resolved to face what ever reception was + awaiting him on the way, he was planning what course he should adopt to + bring about a reconciliation with his redoubtable mother-in-law. He was no + longer proud, but felt quite broken down. Only Madame Desvarennes could + put him on his feet again; and, as cowardly in trouble as he had been + insolent in prosperity, he accepted beforehand all that she might impose + upon him; all, provided that she would cover him with her protection. + </p> + <p> + He was frightened, not knowing how deep Herzog had led him in the mire. + His moral sense had disappeared, but he had a vague instinct of the danger + he had incurred. The financier’s last words came to his mind: “Confess all + to your wife; she can get you out of this difficulty!” He understood the + meaning of them, and resolved to follow the advice. Micheline loved him. + In appealing to her heart, deeply wounded as it was, he would have in her + an ally, and he had long known that Madame Desvarennes could not oppose + her daughter in anything. + </p> + <p> + He entered the house through the back garden gate, and regained his room + without making the slightest noise. He dreaded meeting Madame Desvarennes + before seeing Micheline. First he changed his attire; he had walked about + Paris in evening clothes. Looking in the glass he was surprised at the + alteration in his features. Was his beauty going too? What would become of + him if he failed to please. And, like an actor who is about to play an + important part, he paid great attention to the making up of his face. He + wished once more to captivate his wife, as his safety depended on the + impression he was about to make on her. At last, satisfied with himself, + he tried to look smiling, and went to his wife’s room. + </p> + <p> + Micheline was up. + </p> + <p> + At the sight of Serge she could not suppress an exclamation of surprise. + It was a long time since he had discontinued these familiar visits. The + presence of her beloved one in that room, which had seemed so empty when + he was not there, made her feel happy, and she went to him with a smile, + holding out her hand. Serge drew her gently toward him and kissed her + hair. + </p> + <p> + “Up, already, dear child,” said he, affectionately. + </p> + <p> + “I have scarcely slept,” answered Micheline. “I was so anxious. I sat up + for you part of the night. I had left you without saying good-night. It + was the first time it had occurred, and I wanted to beg your pardon. But + you came in very late.” + </p> + <p> + “Micheline, it is I who am ungrateful,” interrupted Panine, making the + young wife sit down beside him. “It is I who must ask you to be + indulgent.” + </p> + <p> + “Serge! I beg of you!” said the young wife, taking both his hands. “All is + forgotten. I would not reproach you, I love you so much!” + </p> + <p> + Micheline’s face beamed with joy, and tears filled her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You are weeping,” said Panine. “Ah! I feel the weight of my wrongs toward + you. I see how deserving you are of respect and affection. I feel + unworthy, and would kneel before you to say how I regret all the anxieties + I have caused you, and that my only desire in the future will be to make + you forget them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! speak on! speak on!” cried Micheline, with delight. “What happiness + to hear you say such sweet words! Open your heart to me! You know I would + die to please you. If you have any anxieties or annoyances confide in me. + I can relieve them. Who could resist me when you are in question?” + </p> + <p> + “I have none, Micheline,” answered Serge, with the constrained manner of a + man who is feigning. “Nothing but the regret of not having lived more for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the future not in store for us?” said the young wife, looking lovingly + at him. + </p> + <p> + The Prince shook his head, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Who can answer for the future?” + </p> + <p> + Micheline came closer to her husband, not quite understanding what Serge + meant, but her mind was on the alert, and in an alarmed tone, she resumed: + </p> + <p> + “What strange words you are uttering? Are we not both young? And, if you + like, is there not much happiness in store for us?” + </p> + <p> + And she clung to him. Serge turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, stay,” she murmured, again putting her arms round him. “You are so + truly mine at this moment!” + </p> + <p> + Panine saw that the opportunity for confessing all had come. He was able + to bring tears to his eyes, and went toward the window as if to hide his + emotion. Micheline followed him, and, in an eager tone, continued: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I knew you were hiding something. You are unhappy or in pain; + threatened perhaps? Ah! if you love me, tell me the truth!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes! It is true, I am threatened. I am suffering and unhappy! But + don’t expect a confession from me. I should blush to make it. But, thank + Heaven, if I cannot extricate myself from the difficulty in which I am + placed through my own folly and imprudence—there is yet another way + out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Serge! you would kill yourself!” cried Micheline, terrified at the + gesture Panine had made. “What would become of me then? But what is there + that is so hard to explain? And to whom should it be said?” + </p> + <p> + “To your mother,” answered Serge, bowing his head. + </p> + <p> + “To my mother? Very well, I will go to her. Oh! don’t fear anything. I can + defend you, and to strike you she will first have to attack me.” + </p> + <p> + Serge put his arms round Micheline, and with a kiss, the hypocrite + inspired her whom he entrusted with his safety with indomitable courage. + </p> + <p> + “Wait for me here,” added the young wife, and passing through the little + drawing-room she reached the smoking-room. + </p> + <p> + She halted there a moment, out of breath and almost choked with emotion. + The long expected day had arrived. Serge was coming back to her. She went + on, and as she reached the door of the stair leading to her mother’s + rooms, she heard a light tap from without. + </p> + <p> + Greatly astonished, she opened the door, and suddenly drew back, uttering + an exclamation. A woman, thickly veiled, stood before her. + </p> + <p> + At the sight of Micheline the stranger seemed inclined to turn and fly. + But overcome with jealousy, the young wife seized her by the arm, dragged + off her veil, and recognizing her, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Jeanne!” + </p> + <p> + Madame Cayrol approached Micheline, and beseechingly stretched out her + hands: + </p> + <p> + “Micheline! don’t think—I come—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue!” cried Micheline. “Don’t tell me any lies! I know all! + You are my husband’s mistress!” + </p> + <p> + Crushed by such a stroke, Jeanne hid her face in her hands and moaned: + </p> + <p> + “O God!” + </p> + <p> + “You must really be bold,” continued Micheline, in a furious tone, “to + seek him here, in my house, almost in my arms!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne drew herself up, blushing with shame and grief. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! don’t think,” she said, “that love brings me here.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it then?” asked Micheline, contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “The knowledge of inevitable and pressing danger which threatens Serge.” + </p> + <p> + “A danger! Of what kind?” + </p> + <p> + “Compromised by Herzog, he is at the mercy of my husband, who has sworn to + ruin him.” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is his rival. If you could ruin me, would you not do it?” said + Jeanne. + </p> + <p> + “You!” retorted Micheline, passionately. “Do you think I am going to worry + about you? Serge is my first thought. You say you came to warn him. What + must be done?” + </p> + <p> + “Without a moment’s delay he must go away!” + </p> + <p> + A strange suspicion crossed Micheline’s mind. She approached Jeanne, and + looking earnestly at her, said: + </p> + <p> + “He must go away without delay, eh? And it is you, braving everything, + without a thought of the trouble you leave behind you, who come to warn + him? Ah! you mean to go with him?” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne hesitated a moment. Then, boldly and impudently, defying and almost + threatening the legitimate wife: + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, I wish to! Enough of dissimulation! I love him!” she + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Micheline, transfigured by passion, strong, and ready for a struggle, + threw herself in Jeanne’s way, with arms outstretched, as if to prevent + her going to Serge. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” she said; “try to take him from me!” + </p> + <p> + “Take him from you!” answered Jeanne, laughing like a mad woman. “To whom + does he most belong? To the woman who was as ignorant of his love as she + was of his danger; who could do nothing toward his happiness, and can do + nothing for his safety? Or to the mistress who has sacrificed her honor to + please him and risks her safety to save him?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! wretch!” cried Micheline, “to invoke your infamy as a right!” + </p> + <p> + “Which of us has taken him from the other?” continued Jeanne, forgetting + respect, modesty, everything. “Do you know that he loved me before he + married you? Do you know that he abandoned me for you—for your + money, I should say? Now, do you wish to weigh what I have suffered with + what you suffer? Shall we make out a balance-sheet of our tears? Then, you + will be able to tell which of us he has loved more, and to whom he really + belongs.” + </p> + <p> + Micheline had listened to this furious address almost in a state of + stupor, and replied, vehemently: + </p> + <p> + “What matter who triumphs if his ruin is certain. Selfish creatures that + we are, instead of disputing about his love, let us unite in saving him! + You say he must go away! But flight is surely an admission of guilt—humiliation + and obscurity in a strange land. And that is what you advise, because you + hope to share that miserable existence with him. You are urging him on to + dishonor. His fate is in the hands of a man who adores you, who would + sacrifice everything for you, as I would for Serge, and yet you have not + thrown yourself at his feet! You have not offered your life as the price + of your lover’s! And you say that you love him!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” stammered Jeanne, distracted. “You wish me to save him for you!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that the cry of your heart?” said Micheline, with crushing disdain. + “Well, see what I am ready to do. If, to remove your jealous fears, it is + necessary to sacrifice myself, I swear to you that if Serge be saved, he + shall be perfectly free, and I will never see him again!” + </p> + <p> + Micheline, chaste and calm, with hands raised to Heaven, seemed to grow + taller and nobler. Jeanne, trembling and overpowered, looked at her rival + with a painful effort, and murmured, softly: + </p> + <p> + “Would you do that?” + </p> + <p> + “I would do more!” said the lawful wife, bending before the mistress. “I + ought to hate you, and I kneel at your feet and beseech you to listen to + me. Do what I ask you and I will forgive you and bless you. Do not + hesitate! Follow me! Let us throw ourselves at the feet of him whom you + have outraged. His generosity cannot be less than ours, and to us, who + sacrifice our love, he will not be able to refuse to sacrifice his + vengeance.” + </p> + <p> + This greatness and goodness awaked feelings in Jeanne’s heart which she + thought dead. She was silent for a moment and then her breast heaved with + convulsive sobs, and she fell helpless into the arms which Micheline, full + of pity, held out to her. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” moaned the unhappy woman. “I am conquered. Your rights are + sacred, and you have just made them still more so. Keep Serge: with you he + will once more become honest and happy, because, if your love is not + greater than mine, it is nobler and purer.” + </p> + <p> + The two women went hand in hand to try to save the man whom they both + adored. + </p> + <p> + All this time Serge remained in the little drawing-room enjoying the hope + of returning peace. It was sweet to him, after the troubles he had gone + through. He had not the slightest suspicion of the scene in the adjoining + room between Jeanne and Micheline. The fond heroism of his wife and the + self-denial of his mistress were unknown to him. + </p> + <p> + Time was passing. At least an hour had sped since Micheline left him to go + to her mother, and Serge was beginning to think that the interview was + very long, when a light step made him tremble. It came from the gallery. + He thought it was Micheline, and opening the door, he went to meet her. + </p> + <p> + He drew back disappointed, vexed, and anxious, when he found it was + Pierre. The two men had never met alone since that terrible night at Nice. + Panine assumed a bold demeanor, and returned Pierre’s firm look. Steadying + his voice, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! is it you?” + </p> + <p> + “Were you not expecting me?” answered Pierre whose harsh voice thrilled + Serge. + </p> + <p> + The Prince opened his mouth to speak, but Pierre, did not give him time. + In stern and provoking accents, he continued: + </p> + <p> + “I made you a promise once; have you forgotten it? I have a good memory. + You are a villain, and I come to chastise you!” + </p> + <p> + “Pierre!” exclaimed the Prince, starting fiercely. + </p> + <p> + But he suddenly calmed himself, and added: + </p> + <p> + “Leave me! I will not listen to you!” + </p> + <p> + “You will have to, though! You are a source of trouble and shame to the + family to which you have allied yourself, and as you have not the courage + to kill yourself, I have come to help you. You must leave Paris to-night, + or you will be arrested. We shall go together to Brussels and there we + shall fight. If chance favors you, you will be at liberty to continue your + infamies, but at any rate I shall have done my best to rid two unfortunate + women of your presence.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mad!” said Serge, sneeringly. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t think so! And know that I am ready for any emergency. Come; must I + strike you, to give you courage?” growled Pierre, ready to suit the action + to the word. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! take care!” snarled Serge, with an evil look. + </p> + <p> + And opening a drawer which was close to him, he took out a revolver. + </p> + <p> + “Thief first, then murderer!” said Pierre, with a terrible laugh. “Come, + let’s see you do it!” + </p> + <p> + And he was going toward the Prince when the door opened, and Madame + Desvarennes came forward. Placing her hand on Pierre’s shoulder, she said, + in that commanding tone which few could resist: + </p> + <p> + “Go; wait for me in my room. I wish it!” + </p> + <p> + Pierre bowed, and, without answering, went out. + </p> + <p> + Serge had placed the pistol on the table and was waiting. + </p> + <p> + “We have to talk over several matters,” said Madame Desvarennes, gravely, + “and you know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madame,” answered Panine, sadly, “and, believe me, no one judges my + conduct more severely than I do.” + </p> + <p> + The mistress could not help looking surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she said, with irony, “I did not expect to find you in such a mood. + You have not accustomed me to such humility and sweetness. You must be + afraid, to have arrived at that stage!” + </p> + <p> + The Prince appeared not to have understood the implied insult in his + mother-in-law’s words. One thing struck him, which was that she evidently + did not expect to find him repentant and humbled. + </p> + <p> + “Micheline must have told you,” he began. + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen my daughter,” interrupted the mistress, sharply, as if to + make him understand that he must depend solely upon himself. + </p> + <p> + Ignorant that Micheline had met Jeanne on her way to her mother, and had + gone to Cayrol, Serge thought he was abandoned by his only powerful ally. + He saw that he was lost and that his feigned resignation was useless. + Unable to control himself any longer, his face darkened with rage. + </p> + <p> + “She, too, against me! Well! I will defend myself alone!” + </p> + <p> + Turning toward Madame Desvarennes, he added: + </p> + <p> + “To begin with, what do you want with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to ask you a question. We business folk when we fail, and cannot + pay our way, throw blood on the blot and it disappears. You members of the + nobility, when you are disgraced, how do you manage?” + </p> + <p> + “If I am not mistaken, Madame,” answered the Prince, in a light tone, “you + do me the favor of asking what my intentions are for the future? I will + answer you with precision. I purpose leaving to-night for Aix-la-Chapelle, + where I shall join my friend Herzog. We shall begin our business again. My + wife, on whose good feelings I rely, will accompany me, notwithstanding + everything.” + </p> + <p> + And in these last words he put all the venom of his soul. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter will not leave me!” exclaimed Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, you can accompany her,” retorted Panine. “That + arrangement will suit me. Since my troubles I have learned to appreciate + domestic happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you hope to play your old games on me,” said Madame Desvarennes. “You + won’t get much out of me. My daughter and I with you—in the stream + where you are going to sink? Never!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” cried Panine, “what do you expect?” + </p> + <p> + A violent ring at the front door resounded as Madame Desvarennes was about + to answer, and stopped the words on her lips. This signal, which was used + only on important occasions, sounded to Madame like a funeral knell. Serge + frowned, and instinctively moved back. + </p> + <p> + Marechal appeared through the half-open door with a scared face, and + silently handed Madame Desvarennes a card. She glanced at it, turned pale, + and said to the secretary: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, let him wait!” She threw the card on the table. Serge came + forward and read: + </p> + <p> + “Delbarre, sheriff’s officer.” + </p> + <p> + Haggard-looking and aghast, he turned to the mistress, as if seeking an + explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” she observed: “it is clear, he has come to arrest you.” + </p> + <p> + Serge rushed to a cabinet, and opening a drawer, took forth some handfuls + of gold and notes, which he crammed into his pockets. + </p> + <p> + “By the back stairs I shall have time to get away. It is my last chance! + Keep the man for five minutes only.” + </p> + <p> + “And if the door is guarded?” asked Madame Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + Serge remained abject before her. He felt himself enclosed in a ring which + he could not break through. + </p> + <p> + “One may be prosecuted without being condemned,” he gasped. “You will use + your influence, I know, and you will get me out of this mess. I shall be + grateful to you for ever, and will do anything you like! But don’t leave + me, it would be cowardly!” + </p> + <p> + He trembled, as he thus besought her distractedly. + </p> + <p> + “The son-in-law of Madame Desvarennes does not go before the Assize Courts + even to be acquitted,” said she, with a firm voice. + </p> + <p> + “What would you have me do?” cried Serge, passionately. + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes did not answer, but pointed to the revolver on the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Kill myself? Ah! no; that would be giving you too much pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + And he gave the weapon a push, so that it rolled close to Madame + Desvarennes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! wretch!” cried she, giving way to her suppressed rage. “You are not + even a Panine! The Panines knew how to die.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not time to act a melodrama with you,” snarled Serge. “I am going + to try to save myself.” + </p> + <p> + And he took a step toward the door. + </p> + <p> + The mistress seized the revolver, and threw herself before him. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not go out!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad?” he exclaimed, gnashing his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not go out!” repeated the mistress, with flashing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “We shall see!” + </p> + <p> + And with a strong arm he seized Madame Desvarennes, and threw her aside. + </p> + <p> + The mistress became livid. Serge had his hand on the handle of the door. + He was about to escape. Madame Desvarennes’s arm was stretched forth. + </p> + <p> + A shot made the windows rattle; the weapon fell from her hand, having done + its work and, amid the smoke, a body dropped heavily on the carpet, which + was soon dyed with blood. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment, the door opened, and Micheline entered, holding in her + hand the fatal receipt which she had just wrung from Cayrol. The young + wife uttered a heartrending cry, and fell senseless on Serge’s body. + </p> + <p> + Behind Micheline came the officer and Marechal. The secretary exchanged + looks with the mistress, who was lifting her fainting daughter and + clasping her in her arms. He understood all. + </p> + <p> + Turning toward his companion, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Alas! sir, here is a sad matter! The Prince, on hearing that you had + come, took fright, although his fault was not very serious, and has shot + himself.” + </p> + <p> + The officer bowed respectfully to the mistress, who was bending over + Micheline. + </p> + <p> + “Please to withdraw, Madame. You have already suffered too much,” said he. + “I understand your legitimate grief. If I need any information, this + gentleman will give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Desvarennes arose, and, without bending under the burden, she bore + away on her bosom her daughter, regained. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A man weeps with difficulty before a woman + A uniform is the only garb which can hide poverty honorably + Antagonism to plutocracy and hatred of aristocrats + Because they moved, they thought they were progressing + Cowardly in trouble as he had been insolent in prosperity + Enough to be nobody’s unless I belong to him + Even those who do not love her desire to know her + Everywhere was feverish excitement, dissipation, and nullity + Flayed and roasted alive by the critics + Forget a dream and accept a reality + Hard workers are pitiful lovers + He lost his time, his money, his hair, his illusions + He was very unhappy at being misunderstood + Heed that you lose not in dignity what you gain in revenge + I thought the best means of being loved were to deserve it + I don’t pay myself with words + Implacable self-interest which is the law of the world + In life it is only nonsense that is common-sense + Is a man ever poor when he has two arms? + Is it by law only that you wish to keep me? + It was a relief when they rose from the table + Men of pleasure remain all their lives mediocre workers + Money troubles are not mortal + My aunt is jealous of me because I am a man of ideas + Negroes, all but monkeys! + Nothing that provokes laughter more than a disappointed lover + One amuses one’s self at the risk of dying + Patience, should he encounter a dull page here or there + Romanticism still ferments beneath the varnish of Naturalism + Sacrifice his artistic leanings to popular caprice + Scarcely was one scheme launched when another idea occurred + She would have liked the world to be in mourning + Suffering is a human law; the world is an arena + Talk with me sometimes. You will not chatter trivialities + The guilty will not feel your blows, but the innocent + The uncontested power which money brings + They had only one aim, one passion—to enjoy themselves + Unqualified for happiness + We had taken the dream of a day for eternal happiness + What is a man who remains useless + Without a care or a cross, he grew weary like a prisoner + You are talking too much about it to be sincere +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Panine, Complete, by Georges Ohnet + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SERGE PANINE, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 3918-h.htm or 3918-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/1/3918/ + +Produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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