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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b3cf71a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63016 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63016) diff --git a/old/63016-8.txt b/old/63016-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d254c3b..0000000 --- a/old/63016-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4768 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Masterpieces of Adventure--Adventures -within Walls, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Masterpieces of Adventure--Adventures within Walls - -Author: Various - -Editor: Nella Braddy - -Release Date: August 23, 2020 [EBook #63016] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURE--ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - - - - - - Masterpieces of - Adventure - - _In Four Volumes_ - - ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS - - - - Edited by - Nella Braddy - - - - Garden City New York - Doubleday, Page & Company - 1922 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY - DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY - - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION - INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES - AT - THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y. - - - - - GRATEFULLY DEDICATED - TO - BLANCHE COLTON WILLIAMS, PH.D. - - - - -EDITOR'S NOTE - -In these volumes the word _adventure_ has been used in its broadest -sense to cover not only strange happenings in strange places but also -love and life and death--all things that have to do with the great -adventure of living. Questions as to the fitness of a story were -settled by examining the qualities of the narrative as such rather -than by reference to a technical classification of short stories. - -It is the inalienable right of the editor of a work of this kind to -plead copyright difficulties in extenuation for whatever faults it -may possess. We beg the reader to believe that this is why his -favorite story was omitted while one vastly inferior was included. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -I. THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT'S DOOR - Robert Louis Stevenson - -II. A DOUBLE-DYED DECEIVER - O. Henry - -III. THE BOLD DRAGOON - Washington Irving - -IV. THE BET - Anton Chekhov - -V. LA GRANDE BRETČCHE - Honoré de Balzac - -VI. THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH - Edgar Allan Poe - -VII. DR. MANETTE'S MANUSCRIPT - Charles Dickens - -VIII. SILENCE - Leonidas Andreiyeff - - - - -MASTERPIECES OF ADVENTURE - - - - -Masterpieces of Adventure - -_ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS_ - -I - -THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT'S DOOR* - -ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON - -*Reprinted by permission of Charles Scribner's Sons. - - -Denis de Beaulieu was not yet two-and-twenty, but he counted himself -a grown man, and a very accomplished cavalier into the bargain. Lads -were early formed in that rough, warfaring epoch; and when one has -been in a pitched battle and a dozen raids, has killed one's man in -an honourable fashion, and knows a thing or two of strategy and -mankind, a certain swagger in the gait is surely to be pardoned. He -had put up his horse with due care, and supped with due deliberation; -and then, in a very agreeable frame of mind, went out to pay a visit -in the grey of the evening. It was not a very wise proceeding on the -young man's part. He would have done better to remain beside the -fire or go decently to bed. For the town was full of the troops of -Burgundy and England under a mixed command; and though Denis was -there on safe-conduct, his safe-conduct was like to serve him little -on a chance encounter. - -It was September 1429; the weather had fallen sharp; a flighty, -piping wind, laden with showers, beat about the township; and the -dead leaves ran riot along the streets. Here and there a window was -already lighted up; and the noise of men-at-arms making merry over -supper within, came forth in fits and was swallowed up and carried -away by the wind. The night fell swiftly; the flag of England, -fluttering on the spire-top, grew ever fainter and fainter against -the flying clouds--a black speck like a swallow in the tumultuous, -leaden chaos of the sky. As the night fell the wind rose, and began -to hoot under archways and roar amid the tree-tops in the valley -below the town. - -Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking at his friend's -door; but though he promised himself to stay only a little while and -make an early return, his welcome was so pleasant, and he found so -much to delay him, that it was already long past midnight before he -said good-bye upon the threshold. The wind had fallen again in the -meanwhile; the night was as black as the grave; not a star, nor a -glimmer of moonshine, slipped through the canopy of cloud. Denis was -ill-acquainted with the intricate lanes of Château Landon; even by -daylight he had found some trouble in picking his way; and in this -absolute darkness he soon lost it altogether. He was certain of one -thing only--to keep mounting the hill; for his friend's house lay at -the lower end, or tail, of Château Landon, while the inn was up at -the head, under the great church spire. With this clue to go upon he -stumbled and groped forward, now breathing more freely in open places -where there was a good slice of sky overhead, now feeling along the -wall in stifling closes. It is an eerie and mysterious position to -be thus submerged in opaque blackness in an almost unknown town. The -silence is terrifying in its possibilities. The touch of cold window -bars to the exploring hand startles the man like the touch of a toad; -the inequalities of the pavement shake his heart into his mouth; a -piece of denser darkness threatens an ambuscade or a chasm in the -pathway; and where the air is brighter, the houses put on strange and -bewildering appearances, as if to lead him farther from his way. For -Denis, who had to regain his inn without attracting notice, there was -real danger as well as mere discomfort in the walk; and he went -warily and boldly at once, and at every corner paused to make an -observation. - -He had been for some time threading a lane so narrow that he could -touch a wall with either hand, when it began to open out and go -sharply downward. Plainly this lay no longer in the direction of his -inn; but the hope of a little more light tempted him forward to -reconnoitre. The lane ended in a terrace with a bartizan wall, which -gave an outlook between high houses, as out of an embrasure, into the -valley lying dark and formless several hundred feet below. Denis -looked down, and could discern a few tree-tops waving and a single -speck of brightness where the river ran across a weir. The weather -was clearing up, and the sky had lightened, so as to show the outline -of the heavier clouds and the dark margin of the hills. By the -uncertain glimmer, the house on his left hand should be a place of -some pretensions; it was surmounted by several pinnacles and -turret-tops; the round stern of a chapel, with a fringe of flying -buttresses, projected boldly from the main block; and the door was -sheltered under a deep porch carved with figures and overhung by two -long gargoyles. The windows of the chapel gleamed through their -intricate tracery with a light as of many tapers, and threw out the -buttresses and the peaked roof in a more intense blackness against -the sky. It was plainly the hotel of some great family of the -neighbourhood; and as it reminded Denis of a town house of his own at -Bourges, he stood for some time gazing up at it and mentally gauging -the skill of the architects and the consideration of the two families. - -There seemed to be no issue to the terrace but the lane by which he -had reached it; he could only retrace his steps, but he had gained -some notion of his whereabouts, and hoped by this means to hit the -main thoroughfare and speedily regain the inn. He was reckoning -without that chapter of accidents which was to make this night -memorable above all others in his career; for he had not gone back -above a hundred yards before he saw a light coming to meet him, and -heard loud voices speaking together in the echoing narrows of the -lane. It was a party of men-at-arms going the night round with -torches. Denis assured himself that they had all been making free -with the wine-bowl, and were in no mood to be particular about -safe-conducts or the niceties of chivalrous war. It was as like as -not that they would kill him like a dog and leave him where he fell. -The situation was inspiriting but nervous. Their own torches would -conceal him from sight, he reflected; and he hoped that they would -drown the noise of his footsteps with their own empty voices. If he -were but fleet and silent, he might evade their notice altogether. - -Unfortunately, as he turned to beat a retreat, his foot rolled upon a -pebble; he fell against the wall with an ejaculation, and his sword -rang loudly on the stones. Two or three voices demanded who went -there--some in French, some in English; but Denis made no reply, and -ran the faster down the lane. Once upon the terrace, he paused to -look back. They still kept calling after him, and just then began to -double the pace in pursuit, with a considerable clank of armour, and -great tossing of the torchlight to and fro in the narrow jaws of the -passage. - -Denis cast a look around and darted into the porch. There he might -escape observation, or--if that were too much to expect--was in a -capital posture whether for parley or defence. So thinking, he drew -his sword and tried to set his back against the door. To his -surprise, it yielded behind his weight; and though he turned in a -moment, continued to swing back on oiled and noiseless hinges, until -it stood wide open on a black ulterior. When things fall out -opportunely for the person concerned, he is not apt to be critical -about the how or why, his own immediate personal convenience seeming -a sufficient reason for the strangest oddities and revolutions in our -sublunary things; and so Denis, without a moment's hesitation, -stepped within and partly closed the door behind him to conceal his -place of refuge. Nothing was further from his thoughts than to close -it altogether; but for some inexplicable reason--perhaps by a spring -or a weight--the ponderous mass of oak whipped itself out of his -fingers and clanked to, with a formidable rumble and a noise like the -falling of an automatic bar. - -The round, at that very moment, debouched upon the terrace and -proceeded to summon him with shouts and curses. He heard them -ferreting in the dark corners; the stock of a lance even rattled -along the outer surface of the door behind which he stood; but these -gentlemen were in too high a humour to be long delayed, and soon made -off down a corkscrew pathway which had escaped Denis's observation, -and passed out of sight and hearing along the battlements of the town. - -Denis breathed again. He gave them a few minutes' grace for fear of -accidents, and then groped about for some means of opening the door -and slipping forth again. The inner surface was quite smooth, not a -handle, not a moulding, not a projection of any sort. He got his -finger-nails round the edges and pulled, but the mass was immovable. -He shook it, it was as firm as a rock. Denis de Beaulieu frowned and -gave vent to a little noiseless whistle. What ailed the door? he -wondered. Why was it open? How came it to shut so easily and so -effectually after him? There was something obscure and underhand -about all this, that was little to the young man's fancy. It looked -like a snare; and yet who could suppose a snare in such a quiet -by-street and in a house of so prosperous and even noble an exterior? -And yet--snare or no snare, intentionally or unintentionally--here he -was, prettily trapped; and for the life of him he could see no way -out of it again. The darkness began to weigh upon him. He gave ear; -all was silent without, but within and close by he seemed to catch a -faint sighing, a faint sobbing rustle, a little stealthy creek--as -though many persons were at his side, holding themselves quite still, -and governing even their respiration with the extreme of slyness. -The idea went to his vitals with a shock, and he faced about suddenly -as if to defend his life. Then, for the first time, he became aware -of a light about the level of his eyes and at some distance in the -interior of the house--a vertical thread of light, widening toward -the bottom, such as might escape between two wings of arras over a -doorway. To see anything was a relief to Denis; it was like a piece -of solid ground to a man labouring in a morass; his mind seized upon -it with avidity; and he stood staring at it and trying to piece -together some logical conception of his surroundings. Plainly there -was a flight of steps ascending from his own level to that of this -illuminated doorway; and indeed he thought he could make out another -thread of light, as fine as a needle and as faint as phosphorescence, -which might very well be reflected along the polished wood of a -handrail. Since he had begun to suspect that he was not alone, his -heart had continued to beat with smothering violence, and an -intolerable desire for action of any sort had possessed itself of his -spirit. He was in deadly peril, he believed. What could be more -natural than to mount the staircase, lift the curtain, and confront -his difficulty at once? At least he would be dealing with something -tangible; at least he would be no longer in the dark. He stepped -slowly forward with outstretched hands, until his foot struck the -bottom step; then he rapidly scaled the stairs, stood for a moment to -compose his expression, lifted the arras and went in. - -He found himself in a large apartment of polished stone. There were -three doors; one on each of three sides; all similarly curtained with -tapestry. The fourth side was occupied by two large windows and a -great stone chimney-piece, carved with the arms of the Malétroits. -Denis recognized the bearings, and was gratified to find himself in -such good hands. The room was strongly illuminated; but it contained -little furniture except a heavy table and a chair or two, the hearth -was innocent of fire, and the pavement was but sparsely strewn with -rushes clearly many days old. - -On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly facing Denis as he -entered, sat a little old gentleman in a fur tippet. He sat with his -legs crossed and his hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine stood by -his elbow on a bracket on the wall. His countenance had a strongly -masculine cast; not properly human, but such as we see in the bull, -the goat, or the domestic boar; something equivocal and wheedling, -something greedy, brutal, and dangerous. The upper lip was -inordinately full, as though swollen by a blow or a toothache; and -the smile, the peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were -quaintly and almost comically evil in expression. Beautiful white -hair hung straight all round his head, like a saint's, and fell in a -single curl upon the tippet. His beard and moustache were the pink -of venerable sweetness. Age, probably in consequence of inordinate -precautions, had left no mark upon his hands; and the Malétroit hand -was famous. It would be difficult to imagine anything at once so -fleshly and so delicate in design; the taper, sensual fingers were -like those of one of Leonardo's women; the fork of the thumb made a -dimpled protuberance when closed; the nails were perfectly shaped, -and of a dead, surprising whiteness. It rendered his aspect tenfold -more redoubtable, that a man with hands like these should keep them -devoutly folded in his lap like a virgin martyr--that a man with so -intense and startling an expression of face should sit patiently on -his seat and contemplate people with an unwinking stare, like a god -or a god's statue. His quiescence seemed ironical and treacherous, -it fitted so poorly with his looks. Such was Alain, Sire de -Malétroit. - -Denis and he looked silently at each other for a second or two. - -"Pray step in," said the Sire de Malétroit. "I have been expecting -you all evening." - -He had not risen, but he accompanied his words with a smile and a -slight but courteous inclination of the head. Partly from the smile, -partly from the strange musical murmur with which the Sir prefaced -his observation, Denis felt a strong shudder of disgust go through -his marrow. And what with disgust and honest confusion of mind, he -could scarcely get words together in reply. - -"I fear," he said, "that this is a double accident. I am not the -person you suppose me. It seems you were looking for a visit; but -for my part, nothing was further from my thoughts--nothing could be -more contrary to my wishes--than this intrusion." - -"Well, well," replied the old gentleman indulgently, "here you are, -which is the main point. Seat yourself, my friend, and put yourself -entirely at your ease. We shall arrange our little affairs -presently." - -Denis perceived that the matter was still complicated with some -misconception, and he hastened to continue his explanations. - -"Your door..." he began. - -"About my door?" asked the other, raising his peaked eyebrows. "A -little piece of ingenuity." And he shrugged his shoulders. "A -hospitable fancy! By your own account, you were not desirous of -making my acquaintance. We old people look for such reluctance now -and then; and when it touches our honour, we cast about until we find -some way of overcoming it. You arrive uninvited, but, believe me, -very welcome." - -"You persist in error, sir," said Denis. "There can be no question -between you and me. I am a stranger in this countryside. My name is -Denis, damoiseau de Beaulieu. If you see me in your house, it is -only----" - -"My young friend," interrupted the other, "you will permit me to have -my own ideas on that subject. They probably differ from yours at the -present moment," he added with a leer, "but time will show which of -us is in the right." - -Denis was convinced he had to do with a lunatic. He seated himself -with a shrug, content to wait the upshot; and a pause ensued, during -which he thought he could distinguish a hurried gabbling as of prayer -from behind the arras immediately opposite him. Sometimes there -seemed to be but one person engaged, sometimes two; and the vehemence -of the voice, low as it was, seemed to indicate either great haste or -an agony of spirit. It occurred to him that this piece of tapestry -covered the entrance to the chapel he had noticed from without. - -The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis from head to foot with a -smile, and from time to time emitted little noises like a bird or a -mouse, which seemed to indicate a high degree of satisfaction. This -state of matters became rapidly insupportable; and Denis, to put an -end to it, remarked politely that the wind had gone down. - -The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, so prolonged -and violent that he became quite red in the face. Denis got upon his -feet at once, and put on his hat with a flourish. - -"Sir," he said, "if you are in your wits, you have affronted me -grossly. If you are out of them, I flatter myself I can find better -employment for my brains than to talk with lunatics. My conscience -is clear; you have made a fool of me from the first moment; you have -refused to hear my explanations; and now there is no power under God -will make me stay here any longer; and if I cannot make my way out in -a more decent fashion, I will hack your door in pieces with my sword." - -The Sire de Malétroit raised his right hand and wagged it at Denis -with the fore and little fingers extended. - -"My dear nephew," he said, "sit down." - -"Nephew!" retorted Denis, "you lie in your throat;" and he snapped -his fingers in his face. - -"Sit down, you rogue!" cried the old gentleman, in a sudden, harsh -voice, like the barking of a dog. "Do you fancy," he went on, "that -when I had made my little contrivance for the door, I had stopped -short with that? If you prefer to be bound hand and foot till your -bones ache, rise and try to go away. If you choose to remain a free -young buck, agreeably conversing with an old gentleman--why, sit -where you are in peace, and God be with you." - -"Do you mean I am a prisoner?" demanded Denis. - -"I state the facts," replied the other. "I would rather leave the -conclusion to yourself." - -Denis sat down again. Externally he managed to keep pretty calm; but -within, he was now boiling with anger, now chilled with apprehension. -He no longer felt convinced that he was dealing with a madman. And -if the old gentleman was sane, what, in God's name, had he to look -for? What absurd or tragical adventure had befallen him? What -countenance was he to assume? - -While he was thus unpleasantly reflecting, the arras that overhung -the chapel door was raised, and a tall priest in his robes came forth -and, giving a long, keen stare at Denis, said something in an -undertone to the Sire de Malétroit. - -"She is in a better frame of spirit?" asked the latter. - -"She is more resigned, messire," replied the priest.' - -"Now the Lord help her, she is hard to please!" sneered the old -gentleman. "A likely stripling--not ill-born--and of her own -choosing, too? Why, what more would the jade have?" - -"The situation is not usual for a young damsel," said the other, "and -somewhat trying to her blushes." - -"She should have thought of that before she began the dance? It was -none of my choosing, God knows that: but since she is in it, by our -lady, she shall carry it to an end." And then addressing Denis, -"Monsieur de Beaulieu," he asked, "may I present you to my niece? -She has been waiting your arrival, I may say, with even greater -impatience than myself." - -Denis had resigned himself with a good grace--all he desired was to -know the worst of it as speedily as possible; so he rose at once, and -bowed in acquiescence. The Sire de Malétroit followed his example -and limped, with the assistance of the chaplain's arm, toward the -chapel-door. The priest pulled aside the arras, and all three -entered. The building had considerable architectural pretensions. A -light groining sprang from six stout columns, and hung down in two -rich pendants from the centre of the vault. The place terminated -behind the altar in a round end, embossed and honey-combed with a -superfluity of ornament in relief, and pierced by many little windows -shaped like stars, trefoils, or wheels. These windows were -imperfectly glazed, so that the night air circulated freely in the -chapel. The tapers, of which there must have been half a hundred -burning on the altar, were unmercifully blown about; and the light -went through many different phases of brilliancy and semi-eclipse. -On the steps in front of the altar knelt a young girl richly attired -as a bride. A chill settled over Denis as he observed her costume; -he fought with desperate energy against the conclusion that was being -thrust upon his mind; it could not--it should not--be as he feared. - -"Blanche," said the Sire, in his most flute-like tones, "I have -brought a friend to see you, my little girl; turn round and give him -your pretty hand. It is good to be devout; but it is necessary to be -polite, my niece." - -The girl rose to her feet and turned toward the newcomers. She moved -all of a piece; and shame and exhaustion were expressed in every line -of her fresh young body; and she held her head down and kept her eyes -upon the pavement, as she came slowly forward. In the course of her -advance, her eyes fell upon Denis de Beaulieu's feet--feet of which -he was justly vain, be it remarked, and wore in the most elegant -accoutrement even while travelling. She paused--started, as if his -yellow boots had conveyed some shocking meaning--and glanced suddenly -up into the wearer's countenance. Their eyes met; shame gave place -to horror and terror in her looks; the blood left her lips; with a -piercing scream she covered her face with her hands and sank upon the -chapel-floor. - -"That is not the man!" she cried. "My uncle, that is not the man!" - -The Sire de Malétroit chirped agreeably. "Of course not," he said, -"I expected as much. It was so unfortunate you could not remember -his name." - -"Indeed," she cried, "indeed, I have never seen this person till this -moment--I have never so much as set eyes upon him--I never wish to -see him again. Sir," she said, turning to Denis, "if you are a -gentleman, you will bear me out. Have I ever seen you--have you ever -seen me--before this accursed hour?" - -"To speak for myself, I have never had that pleasure," answered the -young man. "This is the first time, messire, that I have met with -your engaging niece." - -The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. - -"I am distressed to hear it," he said. "But it is never too late to -begin. I had little more acquaintance with my own late lady ere I -married her; which proves," he added with a grimace, "that these -impromptu marriages may often produce an excellent understanding in -the long run. As the bridegroom is to have a voice in the matter, I -will give him two hours to make up for lost time before we proceed -with the ceremony." And he turned toward the door, followed by the -clergyman. - -The girl was on her feet in a moment. "My uncle, you cannot be in -earnest," she said. "I declare before God I will stab myself rather -than be forced on that young man. The heart rises at it; God forbids -such marriages; you dishonour your white hair. Oh, my uncle, pity -me! There is not a woman in all the world but would prefer death to -such a nuptial. Is it possible," she added, faltering--"is it -possible that you do not believe me--that you still think this"--and -she pointed at Denis with a tremor of anger and contempt--"that you -still think _this_ to be the man?" - -"Frankly," said the old gentleman, pausing on the threshold, "I do. -But let me explain to you once for all, Blanche de Malétroit, my way -of thinking about this affair. When you took it into your head to -dishonour my family and the name that I have borne, in peace and war, -for more than three-score years, you forfeited, not only the right to -question my designs, but that of looking me in the face. If your -father had been alive, he would have spat on you and turned you out -of doors. His was the hand of iron. You may bless your God you have -only to deal with the hand of velvet, mademoiselle. It was my duty -to get you married without delay. Out of pure goodwill, I have tried -to find your own gallant for you. And I believe I have succeeded. -But before God and all the holy angels, Blanche de Malétroit, if I -have not, I care not one jack-straw. So let me recommend you to be -polite to our young friend; for upon my word, your next groom may be -less appetising." - -And with that he went out, with the chaplain at his heels; and the -arras fell behind the pair. - -The girl turned upon Denis with flashing eyes. - -"And what, sir," she demanded, "may be the meaning of all this?" - -"God knows," returned Denis gloomily. "I am a prisoner in this -house, which seems full of mad people. More I know not; and nothing -do I understand." - -"And pray how came you here?" she asked. - -He told her as briefly as he could. "For the rest," he added, -"perhaps you will follow my example, and tell me the answer to all -these riddles, and what, in God's name, is like to be the end of it." - -She stood silent for a little, and he could see her lips tremble and -her tearless eyes burn with a feverish lustre. Then she pressed her -forehead in both hands. - -"Alas, how my head aches!" she said wearily--"to say nothing of my -poor heart! But it is due to you to know my story, unmaidenly as it -must seem. I am called Blanche de Malétroit; I have been without -father or mother for--oh! for as long as I can recollect, and indeed -I have been most unhappy all my life. Three months ago a young -captain began to stand near me every day in church. I could see that -I pleased him; I am afraid I am silly, but I was so glad that any one -should love me; and when he passed me a letter, I took it home with -me and read it with great pleasure. Since that time he has written -many. He was so anxious to speak with me, poor fellow! and kept -asking me to leave the door open some evening that we might have two -words upon the stair. For he knew how much my uncle trusted me." -She gave something like a sob at that, and it was a moment before she -could go on. "My uncle is a hard man, but he is very shrewd," she -said at last. "He has performed many feats in war, and was a great -person at court, and much trusted by Queen Isabeau in old days. How -he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but it is hard to keep anything -from his knowledge; and this morning, as we came from mass, he took -my hand in his, forced it open, and read my little billet, walking by -my side all the while. When he had finished, he gave it back to me -with great politeness. It contained another request to have the door -left open; and this has been the ruin of us all. My uncle kept me -strictly in my room until evening, and then ordered me to dress -myself as you see me--a hard mockery for a young girl, do you not -think so? I suppose, when he could not prevail with me to tell him -the young captain's name, he must have laid a trap for him: into -which, alas! you have fallen in the anger of God. I looked for much -confusion; for how could I tell whether he was willing to take me for -his wife on these sharp terms? He might have been trifling with me -from the first; or I might have made myself too cheap in his eyes. -But truly I had not looked for such a shameful punishment as this! I -could not think that God would let a girl be so disgraced before a -young man. And now I have told you all, as I am true-born; although -I can scarcely hope that you will believe me, since I fear that my -own uncle does not." - -Denis made her a respectful inclination. - -"Madam," he said, "you have honoured me by your confidence. It -remains for me to prove that I am not unworthy of the honour. Is -Messire de Malétroit at hand?" - -"I believe he is writing in the salle without," she answered. - -"May I lead you thither, madam?" asked Denis, offering his hand with -his most courtly bearing. - -She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the chapel, Blanche in a -very drooping and shamefaced condition, but Denis strutting and -ruffling in the consciousness of a mission, and the boyish certainty -of accomplishing it with honour. - -The Sire de Malétroit rose to meet them with an ironical obeisance. - -"Sir," said Denis, with the grandest possible air, "I believe I am to -have some say in the matter of this marriage; and let me tell you at -once, I will be no party to forcing the inclination of this young -lady. Had it been freely offered to me, I should have been proud to -accept her hand, for I perceive she is as good as she is beautiful; -but as things are, I have now the honour, messire, of refusing." - -Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes; but the old -gentleman only smiled and smiled, until his smile grew positively -sickening to Denis. - -"I am afraid," he said, "Monsieur de Beaulieu, that you do not -perfectly understand the choice I have to offer you. Follow me, I -beseech you, to this window." And he led the way to one of the large -windows which stood open on the night. "You observe," he went on, -"there is an iron ring in the upper masonry, and reeved through that, -a very efficacious rope. Now, mark my words: if you should find your -disinclination to my niece's person insurmountable, I shall have you -hanged out of this window before sunrise. I shall only proceed to -such an extremity with the greatest regret, you may believe me. For -it is not at all your death that I desire, but my niece's -establishment in life. At the same time, it must come to that if you -prove obstinate. Your family, Monsieur de Beaulieu, is very well in -its way; but if you sprang from Charlemagne, you should not refuse -the hand of a Malétroit with impunity--not if she had been as common -as the Paris road--not if she were as hideous as the gargoyle over my -door. Neither my niece nor you, nor my own private feelings, move me -at all in this matter. The honour of my house has been compromised; -I believe you to be the guilty person; at least you are now in the -secret; and you can hardly wonder if I request you to wipe out the -stain. If you will not, your blood be on your own head! It will be -no great satisfaction to me to have your interesting relics kicking -their heels in the breeze below my windows; but half a loaf is better -than no bread, and if I cannot cure the dishonour, I shall at least -stop the scandal." - -There was a pause. - -"I believe there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among -gentlemen," said Denis. "You wear a sword, and I hear you have used -it with distinction." - -The Sire de Malétroit made a signal to the chaplain, who crossed the -room with long silent strides and raised the arras over the third of -the three doors. It was only a moment before he let it fall again; -but Denis had time to see a dusky passage full of armed men. - -"When I was a little younger, I should have been delighted to honour -you, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said Sire Alain; "but I am now too old. -Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I must employ the -strength I have. This is one of the hardest things to swallow as a -man grows up in years; but with a little patience, even this becomes -habitual. You and the lady seem to prefer the salle for what remains -of your two hours; and as I have no desire to cross your preference, -I shall resign it to your use with all the pleasure in the world. No -haste!" he added, holding up his hand, as he saw a dangerous look -come into Denis de Beaulieu's face. "If your mind revolts against -hanging, it will be time enough two hours hence to throw yourself out -of the window or upon the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life -are always two hours. A great many things may turn up in even as -little a while as that. And, besides, if I understand her -appearance, my niece has still something to say to you. You will not -disfigure your last hours by a want of politeness to a lady?" - -Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an imploring gesture. - -The old gentleman was hugely pleased at this symptom of an -understanding. "Let us give them all the rope we can," he thought; -and then he continued aloud: "If you will give me your word of -honour, Monsieur de Beaulieu, to await my return at the end of the -two hours before attempting anything desperate, I shall withdraw my -retainers, and let you speak in greater privacy with mademoiselle." - -Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to beseech him to agree. - -"I give you my word of honour," he said. - -Messire de Malétroit bowed, and proceeded to limp about the -apartment, clearing his throat the while with that odd musical chirp -which had already grown so irritating in the ears of Denis de -Beaulieu. He first possessed himself of some papers which lay upon -the table; then he went to the mouth of the passage and appeared to -give an order to the men behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled out -through the door by which Denis had come in, turning upon the -threshold to address a last smiling bow to the young couple, and -followed by the chaplain with a hand-lamp. - -No sooner were they alone than Blanche advanced toward Denis with her -hands extended. Her face was flushed and excited, and her eyes shone -with tears. - -"You shall not die!" she cried, "you shall marry me after all." - -"You seem to think, madam," replied Denis, "that I stand much in fear -of death." - -"Oh no, no," she said, "I see you are no poltroon. It is for my own -sake--I could not bear to have you slain for such a scruple." - -"I am afraid," returned Denis, "that you underrate the difficulty, -madam. What you may be too generous to refuse, I may be too proud to -accept. In a moment of noble feeling toward me, you forget what you -perhaps owe to others." - -He had the decency to keep his eyes upon the floor as he said this, -and after he had finished, so as not to spy upon her confusion. She -stood silent for a moment, then walked suddenly away, and sitting -down in her uncle's chair, fairly burst out sobbing. Denis was in -the acme of embarrassment. He looked round, as if to seek for -inspiration, and seeing a stool, plumped down upon it for something -to do. There he sat, playing with the guard of his rapier, and -wishing himself dead a thousand times over, and buried in the -nastiest kitchen-heap in France. His eyes wandered round the -apartment, but found nothing to arrest them. There were such wide -spaces between the furniture, the light fell so baldly and -cheerlessly over all, the dark outside air looked in so coldly -through the windows, that he thought he had never seen a church so -vast, nor a tomb so melancholy. The regular sobs of Blanche de -Malétroit measured out the time like the ticking of a clock. He read -the device upon the shield over and over again, until his eyes became -obscured; he stared into shadowy corners until he imagined they were -swarming with horrible animals; and every now and again he awoke with -a start, to remember that his last two hours were running, and death -was on the march. - -Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his glance settle on -the girl herself. Her face was bowed forward and covered with her -hands, and she was shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of -grief. Even thus she was not an unpleasant object to dwell upon, so -plump and yet so fine, with a warm brown skin, and the most beautiful -hair, Denis thought, in the whole world of womankind. Her hands were -like her uncle's; but they were more in place at the end of her young -arms, and looked infinitely soft and caressing. He remembered how -her blue eyes had shone upon him, full of anger, pity, and innocence. -And the more he dwelt on her perfections, the uglier death looked, -and the more deeply was he smitten with penitence at her continued -tears. Now he felt that no man could have the courage to leave a -world which contained so beautiful a creature; and now he would have -given forty minutes of his last hour to have unsaid his cruel speech. - -Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow rose to their ears from -the dark valley below the windows. And this shattering noise in the -silence of all around was like a light in a dark place, and shook -them both out of their reflections. - -"Alas, can I do nothing to help you?" she said, looking up. - -"Madam," replied Denis, with a fine irrelevancy, "if I have said -anything to wound you, believe me, it was for your own sake and not -for mine." - -She thanked him with a tearful look. - -"I feel your position cruelly," he went on. "The world has been -bitter hard on you. Your uncle is a disgrace to mankind. Believe -me, madam, there is no young gentleman in all France but would be -glad of my opportunity, to die in doing you a momentary service." - -"I know already that you can be very brave and generous," she -answered. "What I want to know is whether I can serve you--now or -afterward," she added, with a quaver. - -"Most certainly," he answered with a smile. "Let me sit beside you -as if I were a friend, instead of a foolish intruder; try to forget -how awkwardly we are placed to one another; make my last moments go -pleasantly; and you will do me the chief service possible." - -"You are very gallant," she added, with a yet deeper sadness ... -"very gallant ... and it somehow pains me. But draw nearer, if you -please; and if you find anything to say to me, you will at least make -certain of a very friendly listener. Ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu," she -broke forth--"ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu, how can I look you in the -face?" And she fell to weeping again with a renewed effusion. - -"Madam," said Denis, taking her hand in both of his, "reflect on the -little time I have before me, and the great bitterness into which I -am cast by the sight of your distress. Spare me, in my last moments, -the spectacle of what I cannot cure even with the sacrifice of my -life." - -"I am very selfish," answered Blanche. "I will be braver, Monsieur -de Beaulieu, for your sake. But think if I can do you no kindness in -the future--if you have no friends to whom I could carry your adieux. -Charge me as heavily as you can; every burden will lighten, by so -little, the invaluable gratitude I owe you. Put it in my power to do -something more for you than weep." - -"My mother is married again, and has a young family to care for. My -brother Guichard will inherit my fiefs; and if I am not in error, -that will content him amply for my death. Life is a little vapour -that passeth away, as we are told by those in holy orders. When a -man is in a fair way and sees all life open in front of him, he seems -to himself to make a very important figure in the world. His horse -whinnies to him; the trumpets blow and the girls look out of windows -as he rides into a town before his company; he receives many -assurances of trust and regard--sometimes by express in a -letter--sometimes face to face, with persons of great consequence -falling on his neck. It is not wonderful if his head is turned for a -time. But once he is dead, were he as brave as Hercules or as wise -as Solomon, he is soon forgotten. It is not ten years since my -father fell, with many other knights around him, in a very fierce -encounter, and I do not think that any one of them, nor so much as -the name of the fight, is now remembered. No, no, madam, the nearer -you come to it, you see that death is a dark and dusty corner, where -a man gets into his tomb and has the door shut after him till the -judgment day. I have few friends just now, and once I am dead I -shall have none." - -"Ah, Monsieur de Beaulieu!" she exclaimed, "you forget Blanche de -Malétroit." - -"You have a sweet nature, madam, and you are pleased to estimate a -little service far beyond its worth." - -"It is not that," she answered. "You mistake me if you think I am so -easily touched by my own concerns. I say so, because you are the -noblest man I have ever met; because I recognize in you a spirit that -would have made even a common person famous in the land." - -"And yet here I die in a mousetrap--with no more noise about it than -my own squeaking," answered he. - -A look of pain crossed her face, and she was silent for a little -while. Then a light came into her eyes, and with a smile she spoke -again. - -"I cannot have my champion think meanly of himself. Anyone who gives -his life for another will be met in Paradise by all the heralds and -angels of the Lord God. And you have no such cause to hang your -head. For ... Pray, do you think me beautiful?" she asked, with a -deep flush. - -"Indeed, madam, I do," he said. - -"I am glad of that," she answered heartily. "Do you think there are -many men in France who have been asked in marriage by a beautiful -maiden--with her own lips--and who have refused her to her face? I -know you men would half despise such a triumph; but believe me, we -women know more of what is precious in love. There is nothing that -should set a person higher in his own esteem; and we women would -prize nothing more dearly." - -"You are very good," he said; "but you cannot make me forget that I -was asked in pity and not for love." - -"I am not so sure of that," she replied, holding down her head. -"Hear me to an end, Monsieur de Beaulieu. I know how you must -despise me; I feel you are right to do so; I am too poor a creature -to occupy one thought of your mind, although, alas! you must die for -me this morning. But when I asked you to marry me, indeed, and -indeed, it was because I respected and admired you, and loved you -with my whole soul, from the very moment that you took my part -against my uncle. If you had seen yourself, and how noble you -looked, you would pity rather than despise me. And now," she went -on, hurriedly checking him with her hand, "although I have laid aside -all reserve and told you so much, remember that I know your -sentiments toward me already. I would not, believe me, being nobly -born, weary you with importunities into consent. I, too, have a -pride of my own; and I declare before the holy mother of God, if you -should now go back from your word already given, I would no more -marry you than I would marry my uncle's groom." - -Denis smiled a little bitterly. - -"It is a small love," he said, "that shies at a little pride." - -She made no answer, although she probably had her own thoughts. - -"Come hither to the window," he said, with a sigh. "Here is the -dawn." - -And indeed the dawn was already beginning. The hollow of the sky was -full of essential daylight, colourless and clean; and the valley -underneath was flooded with a grey reflection. A few thin vapours -clung in the coves of the forest or lay along the winding course of -the river. The scene disengaged a surprising effect of stillness, -which was hardly interrupted when the cocks began once more to crow -among the steadings. Perhaps the same fellow who had made so horrid -a clangour in the darkness not half an hour before, now sent up the -merriest cheer to greet the coming day. A little wind went bustling -and eddying among the tree-tops underneath the windows. And still -the daylight kept flooding insensibly out of the east, which was soon -to grow incandescent and cast up that red-hot cannon-ball, the rising -sun. - -Denis looked out over all this with a bit of a shiver. He had taken -her hand, and retained it in his almost unconsciously. - -"Has the day begun already?" she said; and then, illogically enough: -"The night has been so long! Alas! what shall we say to my uncle -when he returns?" - -"What you will," said Denis, and he pressed her fingers in his. She -was silent. - -"Blanche," he said, with a swift, uncertain, passionate utterance, -"you have seen whether I fear death. You must know well enough that -I would as gladly leap out of that window into the empty air as lay a -finger on you without your free and full consent. But if you care -for me at all do not let me lose my life in a misapprehension; for I -love you better than the whole world; and though I will die for you -blithely, it would be like all the joys of Paradise to live on and -spend my life in your service." - -As he stopped speaking, a bell began to ring loudly in the interior -of the house; and a clatter of armour in the corridor showed that the -retainers were returning to their post, and the two hours were at an -end. - -"After all that you have heard?" she whispered, leaning toward him -with her lips and eyes. - -"I have heard nothing," he replied. - -"The captain's name was Florimond de Champdivers," she said in his -ear. - -"I did not hear it," he answered, taking her supple body in his arms -and covering her wet face with kisses. - -A melodious chirping was audible behind, followed by a beautiful -chuckle, and the voice of Messire de Malétroit wished his new nephew -a good morning. - - - - -II - -A DOUBLE-DYED DECEIVER - -O. HENRY - - -The trouble began in Laredo. It was the Llano Kid's fault, for he -should have confined his habit of manslaughter to Mexicans. But the -Kid was past twenty; and to have only Mexicans to one's credit at -twenty is to blush unseen on the Rio Grande border. - -It happened in old Justo Valdo's gambling house. There was a poker -game at which sat players who were not all friends, as happens often -where men ride in from afar to shoot Folly as she gallops. There was -a row over so small a matter as a pair of queens; and when the smoke -had cleared away it was found that the Kid had committed an -indiscretion, and his adversary had been guilty of a blunder. For, -the unfortunate combatant, instead of being a Greaser, was a -high-blooded youth from the cow ranches, of about the Kid's own age -and possessed of friends and champions. His blunder in missing the -Kid's right ear only a sixteenth of an inch when he pulled his gun -did not lessen the indiscretion of the better marksman. - -The Kid, not being equipped with a retinue, nor bountifully supplied -with personal admirers and supporters--on account of a rather -umbrageous reputation, even for the border--considered it not -incompatible with his indisputable gameness to perform that judicious -tractional act known as "pulling his freight." - -Quickly the avengers gathered and sought him. Three of them overtook -him within a rod of the station. The Kid turned and showed his teeth -in that brilliant but mirthless smile that usually preceded his deeds -of insolence and violence, and his pursuers fell back without making -it necessary for him even to reach for his weapon. - -But in this affair the Kid had not felt the grim thirst for encounter -that usually urged him on to battle. It had been a purely chance -row, born of the cards and certain epithets impossible for a -gentleman to brook that had passed between the two. The Kid had -rather liked the slim, haughty, brown-faced young chap whom his -bullet had cut off in the first pride of manhood. And now he wanted -no more blood. He wanted to get away and have a good long sleep -somewhere in the sun on the mesquit grass with his handkerchief over -his face. Even a Mexican might have crossed his path in safety while -he was in this mood. - -The Kid openly boarded the north-bound passenger train that departed -five minutes later. But at Webb, a few miles out, where it was -flagged to take on a traveller, he abandoned that manner of escape. -There were telegraph stations ahead; and the Kid looked askance at -electricity and steam. Saddle and spur were his rocks of safety. - -The man whom he had shot was a stranger to him. But the Kid knew -that he was of the Coralitos outfit from Hidalgo; and that the -punchers from that ranch were more relentless and vengeful than -Kentucky feudists when wrong or harm was done to one of them. So, -with the wisdom that has characterized many great fighters, the Kid -decided to pile up as many leagues as possible of chaparral and pear -between himself and the retaliation of the Coralitos bunch. - -Near the station was a store; and near the store, scattered among the -mesquits and elms, stood the saddled horses of the customers. Most -of them waited, half asleep, with sagging limbs and drooping heads. -But one, a long-legged roan with a curved neck, snorted and pawed the -turf. Him the Kid mounted, gripped with his knees, and slapped -gently with the owner's own quirt. - -If the slaying of the temerarious card-player had cast a cloud over -the Kid's standing as a good and true citizen, this last act of his -veiled his figure in the darkest shadows of disrepute. On the Rio -Grande border if you take a man's life you sometimes take trash; but -if you take his horse, you take a thing the loss of which renders him -poor, indeed, and which enriches you not--if you are caught. For the -Kid there was no turning back now. - -With the springing roan under him he felt little care or uneasiness. -After a five-mile gallop he drew in to the plainsman's jogging trot, -and rode north-eastward toward the Nueces River bottoms. He knew the -country well--its most tortuous and obscure trails through the great -wilderness of brush and pear, and its camps and lonesome ranches -where one might find safe entertainment. Always he bore to the east; -for the Kid had never seen the ocean, and he had a fancy to lay his -hand upon the mane of the great gulf, the gamesome colt of the -greater waters. - -So after three days he stood on the shore at Corpus Christi, and -looked out across the gentle ripples of a quiet sea. - -Captain Boone, of the schooner _Flyaway_, stood near his skiff, which -one of his crew was guarding in the surf. When ready to sail he had -discovered that one of the necessaries of life, in the -parallelogrammatic shape of plug tobacco, had been forgotten. A -sailor had been dispatched for the missing cargo. Meanwhile the -captain paced the sands, chewing profanely at his pocket store. - -A slim, wiry youth in high-heeled boots came down to the water's -edge. His face was boyish, but with a premature severity that hinted -at a man's experience. His complexion was naturally dark; and the -sun and wind of an outdoor life had burned it to a coffee brown. His -hair was as black and straight as an Indian's; his face had not yet -been upturned to the humiliation of a razor; his eyes were a cold and -steady blue. He carried his left arm somewhat away from his body, -for pearl-handled .45s are frowned upon by town marshals, and are a -little bulky when packed in the left armhole of one's vest. He -looked beyond Captain Boone at the gulf with the impersonal and -expressionless dignity of a Chinese emperor. - -"Thinkin' of buyin' that'ar gulf, buddy?" asked the captain, made -sarcastic by his narrow escape from the tobaccoless voyage. - -"Why, no," said the Kid gently, "I reckon not. I never saw it -before. I was just looking at it. Not thinking of selling it, are -you?" - -"Not this trip," said the captain. "I'll send it to you C.O.D. when -I get back to Buenas Tierras. Here comes that capstanfooted lubber -with the chewin'. I ought to've weighed anchor an hour ago." - -"Is that your ship out there?" asked the Kid. - -"Why, yes," answered the captain, "if you want to call a schooner a -ship, and I don't mind lyin'. But you better say Miller and -Gonzales, owners, and ordinary plain, Billy-be-damned old Samuel K. -Boone, skipper." - -"Where are you going to?" asked the refugee. - -"Buenas Tierras, coast of South America--I forgot what they called -the country the last time I was there. Cargo--lumber, corrugated -iron, and machetes." - -"What kind of a country is it?" asked the Kid--"hot or cold?" - -"Warmish, buddy," said the captain. "But a regular Paradise Lost for -elegance of scenery and be-yooty of geography. Ye're wakened every -morning by the sweet singin' of red birds with seven purple tails, -and the sighin' of breezes in the posies and roses. And the -inhabitants never work, for they can reach out and pick steamer -baskets of choicest hothouse fruit without gettin' out of bed. And -there's no Sunday and no ice and no rent and no troubles and no use -and no nothin'. It's a great country for a man to go to sleep with, -and wait for somethin' to turn up. The bananays and oranges and -hurricanes and pineapples that ye eat comes from there." - -"That sounds to me!" said the Kid, at last betraying interest. -"What'll the expressage be to take me out there with you?" - -"Twenty-four dollars," said Captain Boone; "grub and transportation. -Second cabin. I haven't got a first cabin." - -"You've got my company," said the Kid, pulling out a buckskin bag. - -With three hundred dollars he had gone to Laredo for his regular -"blowout." The duel in Valdos's had cut short his season of -hilarity, but it had left him with nearly $200 for aid in the flight -that it had made necessary. - -"All right, buddy," said the captain. "I hope your ma won't blame me -for this little childish escapade of yours." He beckoned to one of -the boat's crew. "Let Sanchez lift you out to the skiff so you won't -get your feet wet." - - -Thacker, the United States consul at Buenas Tierras, was not yet -drunk. It was only eleven o'clock; and he never arrived at his -desired state of beatitude--a state where he sang ancient maudlin -vaudeville songs and pelted his screaming parrot with banana -peels--until the middle of the afternoon. So, when he looked up from -his hammock at the sound of a slight cough, and saw the Kid standing -in the door of the consulate, he was still in a condition, to extend -the hospitality and courtesy due from the representative of a great -nation. "Don't disturb yourself," said the Kid easily. "I just -dropped in. They told me it was customary to light at your camp -before starting in to round up the town. I just came in on a ship -from Texas." - -"Glad to see you, Mr.----," said the consul. - -The Kid laughed. - -"Sprague Dalton," he said. "It sounds funny to me to hear it. I'm -called the Llano Kid in the Rio Grande country." - -"I'm Thacker," said the consul. "Take that cane-bottom chair. Now -if you've come to invest, you want somebody to advise you. These -dingies will cheat you out of the gold in your teeth if you don't -understand their ways. Try a cigar?" - -"Much obliged," said the Kid, "but if it wasn't for my corn shucks -and the little bag in my back pocket I couldn't live a minute." He -took out his "makings," and rolled a cigarette. - -"They speak Spanish here," said the consul. "You'll need an -interpreter. If there's anything I can do, why, I'd be delighted. -If you're buying fruit lands or looking for a concession of any sort, -you'll want somebody who knows the ropes to look out for you." - -"I speak Spanish," said the Kid, "about nine times better than I do -English. Everybody speaks it on the range where I come from. And -I'm not in the market for anything." - -"You speak Spanish?" said Thacker thoughtfully. He regarded the Kid -absorbedly. - -"You look like a Spaniard, too," he continued. "And you're from -Texas. And you can't be more than twenty or twenty-one. I wonder if -you've got any nerve." - -"You got a deal of some kind to put through?" asked the Texan, with -unexpected shrewdness. - -"Are you open to a proposition?" said Thacker. - -"What's the use to deny it?" said the Kid. "I got into a little gun -frolic down in Laredo and plugged a white man. There wasn't any -Mexican handy. And I come down to your parrot-and-monkey range just -for to smell the morning-glories and marigolds. Now, do you _sabe_?" - -Thacker got up and closed the door. - -"Let me see your hand," he said. - -He took the Kid's left hand, and examined the back of it closely. - -"I can do it," he said excitedly. "Your flesh is as hard as wood and -as healthy as a baby's. It will heal in a week." - -"If it's a fist fight you want to back me for," said the Kid, "don't -put your money up yet. Make it gun work, and I'll keep you company. -But no barehanded scrapping, like ladies at a tea-party, for me." - -"It's easier than that," said Thacker. "Just step here, will you?" - -Through the window he pointed to a two-story white-stuccoed house -with wide galleries rising amid the deep-green tropical foliage on a -wooded hill that sloped gently from the sea. - -"In that house," said Thacker, "a fine old Castilian gentleman and -his wife are yearning to gather you into their arms and fill your -pockets with money. Old Santos Urique lives there. He owns half the -gold-mines in the country." - -"You haven't been eating loco weed, have you?" asked the Kid. - -"Sit down again," said Thacker, "and I'll tell you. Twelve years ago -they lost a kid. No, he didn't die--although most of 'em here do -from drinking the surface water. He was a wild little devil even if -he wasn't but eight years old. Everybody knows about it. Some -Americans who were through here prospecting for gold had letters to -Seńor Urique, and the boy was a favourite with them. They filled his -head with big stories about the States; and about a month after they -left, the kid disappeared, too. He was supposed to have stowed -himself away among the banana bunches on a fruit steamer, and gone to -New Orleans. He was seen once afterward in Texas, it was thought, -but they never heard anything more of him. Old Urique has spent -thousands of dollars having him looked for. The madam was broken up -worst of all. The kid was her life. She wears mourning yet. But -they say she believes he'll come back to her some day, and never -gives up hope. On the back of the boy's left hand was tattooed a -flying eagle carrying a spear in his claws. That's old Urique's coat -of arms or something that he inherited in Spain." - -The Kid raised his left hand slowly and gazed at it curiously. - -"That's it," said Thacker, reaching behind the official desk for his -bottle of smuggled brandy. "You're not so slow. I can do it. What -was I consul at Sandakan for? I never knew till now. In a week I'll -have the eagle bird with the frog-sticker blended in so you'd think -you were born with it. I brought a set of the needles and ink just -because I was sure you'd drop in some day, Mr. Dalton." - -"Oh, hell," said the Kid. "I thought I told you my name!" - -"All right, 'Kid,' then. It won't be that long. How does Seńorito -Urique sound, for a change?" - -"I never played son any that I remember of," said the Kid. "If I had -any parents to mention they went over the divide about the time I -gave my first bleat. What is the plan of your round-up?" - -Thacker leaned back against the wall and held his glass up to the -light. - -"We've come now," said he, "to the question of how far you're willing -to go in a little matter of the sort." - -"I told you why I came down here," said the Kid simply. - -"A good answer," said the consul. "But you won't have to go that -far. Here's the scheme. After I get the trademark tattooed on your -hand I'll notify old Urique. In the meantime I'll furnish you with -all of the family history I can find out, so you can be studying up -points to talk about. You've got the looks, you speak the Spanish, -you know the facts, you can tell about Texas, you've got the tattoo -mark. When I notify them that the rightful heir has returned and is -waiting to know whether he will be received and pardoned, what will -happen? They'll simply rush down here and fall on your neck, and the -curtain goes down for refreshments and a stroll in the lobby." - -"I'm waiting," said the Kid. "I haven't had my saddle off in your -camp long, pardner, and I never met you before; but if you intend to -let it go at a parental blessing, why, I'm mistaken in my man, that's -all." - -"Thanks," said the consul. "I haven't met anybody in a long time -that keeps up with an argument as well as you do. The rest of it is -simple. If they take you in only for a while it's long enough. -Don't give 'em time to hunt up the strawberry mark on your left -shoulder. Old Urique keeps anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000 in his -house all the time in a little safe that you could open with a shoe -buttoner. Get it. My skill as a tattooer is worth half the boodle. -We go halves and catch a tramp steamer for Rio Janeiro. Let the -United States go to pieces if it can't get along without my services. -_Que dice, seńor?_" - -"It sounds to me!" said the Kid, nodding his head. "I'm out for the -dust." - -"All right, then," said Thacker. "You'll have to keep close until we -get the bird on you. You can live in the back room here. I do my -own cooking, and I'll make you as comfortable as a parsimonious -Government will allow me." - -Thacker had set the time at a week, but it was two weeks before the -design that he patiently tattooed upon the Kid's hand was to his -notion. And then Thacker called a _muchacho_, and dispatched this -note to the intended victim: - - - EL SEŃOR DON SANTOS URIQUE, - La Casa Blanca, - -MY DEAR SIR: - -I beg permission to inform you that there is in my house as a -temporary guest a young man who arrived in Buenas Tierras from the -United States some days ago. Without wishing to excite any hopes -that may not be realized, I think there is a possibility of his being -your long-absent son. It might be well for you to call and see him. -If he is, it is my opinion that his intention was to return to his -home, but upon arriving here, his courage failed him from doubts as -to how he would be received. - - Your true servant, - THOMPSON THACKER. - - -Half an hour afterward--quick time for Buenas Tierras--Seńor Urique's -ancient landau drove to the consul's door, with the barefooted -coachman beating and shouting at the team of fat, awkward horses. - -A tall man with a white moustache alighted, and assisted to the -ground a lady who was dressed and veiled in unrelieved black. - -The two hastened inside, and were met by Thacker with his best -diplomatic bow. By his desk stood a slender young man with -clear-cut, sunbrowned features and smoothly brushed black hair. - -Seńora Urique threw back her heavy veil with a quick gesture. She -was past middle age, and her hair was beginning to silver, but her -full, proud figure and clear olive skin retained traces of the beauty -peculiar to the Basque province. But, once you had seen her eyes, -and comprehended the great sadness that was revealed in their deep -shadows and hopeless expression, you saw that the woman lived only in -some memory. - -She bent upon the young man a long look of the most agonized -questioning. Then her great black eyes turned, and her gaze rested -upon his left hand. And then with a sob, not loud, but seeming to -shake the room, she cried "_Hijo mio!_" and caught the Llano Kid to -her heart. - -A month afterward the Kid came to the consulate in response to a -message sent by Thacker. - -He looked the young Spanish caballero. His clothes were imported, -and the wiles of the jewellers had not been spent upon him in vain. -A more than respectable diamond shone on his finger as he rolled a -shuck cigarette. - -"What's doing?" asked Thacker. - -"Nothing much," said the Kid calmly. "I eat my first iguana steak -to-day. They're them big lizards, you sabe? I reckon, though, that -frijoles and side bacon would do me about as well. Do you care for -iguanas, Thacker?" - -"No, nor for some other kinds of reptiles," said Thacker. - -It was three in the afternoon, and in another hour he would be in his -state of beatitude. - -"It's time you were making good, sonny," he went on, with an ugly -look on his reddened face. "You're not playing up to me square. -You've been the prodigal son for four weeks now, and you could have -had veal for every meal on a gold dish if you'd wanted it. Now, Mr. -Kid, do you think it's right to leave me out so long on a husk diet? -What's the trouble? Don't you get your filial eyes on anything that -looks like cash in the Casa Blanca? Don't tell me you don't. -Everybody knows where old Urique keeps his stuff. It's U.S. -currency, too; he don't accept anything else. What's doing? Don't -say 'nothing' this time." - -"Why, sure," said the Kid, admiring his diamond, "there's plenty of -money up there. I'm no judge of collateral in bunches, but I will -undertake for to say that I've seen the rise of $50,000 at a time in -that tin grub box that my adopted father calls his safe. And he lets -me carry the key sometimes just to show me that he knows I'm the real -little Francisco that strayed from the herd a long time ago." - -"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Thacker angrily. "Don't you -forget that I can upset your apple-cart any day I want to. If old -Urique knew you were an impostor, what sort of things would happen to -you? Oh, you don't know this country, Mr. Texas Kid. The laws here -have got mustard spread between 'em. These people here'd stretch you -out like a frog that had been stepped on, and give you about fifty -sticks at every corner of the plaza. And they'd wear every stick -out, too. What was left of you they'd feed to alligators." - -"I might as well tell you now, pardner," said the Kid, sliding down -low on his steamer chair, "that things are going to stay just as they -are. They're about right now." - -"What do you mean?" asked Thacker, rattling the bottom of his glass -on his desk. - -"The scheme's off," said the Kid. "And whenever you have the -pleasure of speaking to me address me as Don Francisco Urique. I'll -guarantee I'll answer to it. We'll let Colonel Urique keep his -money. His little tin safe is as good as the time-locker in the -First National Bank of Laredo as far as you and me are concerned." - -"You're going to throw me down, then, are you?" said the consul. - -"Sure," said the Kid cheerfully. "Throw you down. That's it. And -now I'll tell you why. The first night I was up at the colonel's -house they introduced me to a bedroom. No blankets on the floor--a -real room, with a bed and things in it. And before I was asleep, in -comes this artificial mother of mine and tucks in the covers. -'Panchito,' she says, 'my little lost one, God has brought you back -to me. I bless His name forever.' It was that, or some truck like -that, she said. And down comes a drop or two of rain and hits me on -the nose. And all that stuck by me, Mr. Thacker. And it's been that -way ever since. And it's got to stay that way. Don't you think that -it's for what's in it for me, either, that I say so. If you have any -such ideas, keep 'em to yourself. I haven't had much truck with -women in my life, and no mothers to speak of, but here's a lady that -we've got to keep fooled. Once she stood it; twice she won't. I'm a -low-down wolf, and the devil may have sent me on this trail instead -of God, but I'll travel it to the end. And now, don't forget that -I'm Don Francisco Urique whenever you happen to mention my name." - -"I'll expose you to-day, you--you double-dyed traitor," stammered -Thacker. - -The Kid arose and, without violence, took Thacker by the throat with -a hand of steel, and shoved him slowly into a corner. Then he drew -from under his left arm his pearl-handled .45 and poked the cold -muzzle of it against the consul's mouth. - -"I told you why I come here," he said, with his old freezing smile. -"If I leave here, you'll be the reason. Never forget it, pardner. -Now, what is my name?" - -"Er--Don Francisco Urique," gasped Thacker. - -From outside came a sound of wheels, and the shouting of some one, -and the sharp thwacks of a wooden whipstock upon the backs of fat -horses. - -The Kid put up his gun, and walked toward the door. But he turned -again and came back to the trembling Thacker, and held up his left -hand with its back toward the consul. - -"There's one more reason," he said slowly, "why things have got to -stand as they are. The fellow I killed in Laredo had one of them -same pictures on his left hand." - -Outside, the ancient landau of Don Santos Urique rattled to the door. -The coachman ceased his bellowing. Seńora Urique, in a voluminous -gay gown of white lace and flying ribbons, leaned forward with a -happy look in her great soft eyes. - -"Are you within, dear son?" she called, in the rippling Castilian. - -"_Madre mia, yo vengo_ [mother, I come]," answered the young Don -Francisco Urique. - - - - -III - -THE BOLD DRAGOON - -OR THE - -ADVENTURE OF MY GRANDFATHER - -WASHINGTON IRVING - - -My grandfather was a bold dragoon, for it's a profession, d'ye see, -that has run in the family. All my forefathers have been dragoons, -and died on the field of honour, except myself, and I hope my -posterity may be able to say the same; however, I don't mean to be -vainglorious. Well, my grandfather, as I said, was a bold dragoon, -and had served in the Low Countries. In fact, he was one of that -very army which, according to my uncle Toby, swore so terribly in -Flanders. He could swear a good stick himself; and moreover was the -very man that introduced the doctrine Corporal Trim mentions of -radical heat and radical moisture; or, in other words, the mode of -keeping out the damps of ditchwater by burnt brandy. Be that as it -may, it's nothing to the purport of my story. I only tell it to show -you that my grandfather was a man not easily to be humbugged. He had -seen service, or, according to his own phrase, he had seen the -devil--and that's saying every thing. - -Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was on his way to England, for which -he intended to embark from Ostend--bad luck to the place! for one -where I was kept by storms and headwinds for three long days, and the -devil of a jolly companion or pretty girl to comfort me. Well, as I -was saying, my grandfather was on his way to England, or rather to -Ostend--no matter which, it's all the same. So one evening, towards -nightfall, he rode jollily into Bruges.--Very like you all know -Bruges, gentlemen; a queer old-fashioned Flemish town, once, they -say, a great place for trade and money-making in old times, when the -Mynheers were in their glory; but almost as large and as empty as an -Irishman's pocket at the present day.--Well, gentlemen, it was at the -time of the annual fair. All Bruges was crowded; and the canals -swarmed with Dutch boats, and the streets swarmed with Dutch -merchants; and there was hardly any getting along for goods, wares, -and merchandise, and peasants in big breeches, and women in half a -score of petticoats. - -My grandfather rode jollily along, in his easy, slashing way, for he -was a saucy, sunshiny fellow--staring about him at the motley crowd, -and the old houses with gable ends to the street, and storks' nests -in the chimneys; winking at the yafrows who showed their faces at the -windows, and joking the women right and left in the street; all of -whom laughed, and took it in amazing good part; for though he did not -know a word of the language, yet he had always a knack of making -himself understood among the women. - -Well, gentlemen, it being the time of the annual fair, all the town -was crowded, every inn and tavern full, and my grandfather applied in -vain from one to the other for admittance. At length he rode up to -an old rickety inn, that looked ready to fall to pieces, and which -all the rats would have run away from, if they could have found room -in any other house to put their heads. It was just such a queer -building as you see in Dutch pictures, with a tall roof that reached -up into the clouds, and as many garrets, one over the other, as the -seven heavens of Mahomet. Nothing had saved it from tumbling down -but a stork's nest on the chimney, which always brings good luck to a -house in the Low Countries; and at the very time of my grandfather's -arrival, there were two of these long-legged birds of grace standing -like ghosts on the chimney-top. Faith, but they've kept the house on -its legs to this very day, for you may see it any time you pass -through Bruges, as it stands there yet, only it is turned into a -brewery of strong Flemish beer,--at least it was so when I came that -way after the battle of Waterloo. - -My grandfather eyed the house curiously as he approached. It might -not have altogether struck his fancy, had he not seen in large -letters over the door, - - HEER VERKOOPT MAN GOEDEN DRANK. - -My grandfather had learnt enough of the language to know that the -sign promised good liquor. "This is the house for me," said he, -stopping short before the door. - -The sudden appearance of a dashing dragoon was an event in an old inn -frequented only by the peaceful sons of traffic. A rich burgher of -Antwerp, a stately ample man in a broad Flemish hat, and who was the -great man and great patron of the establishment, sat smoking a clean -long pipe on one side of the door; a fat little distiller of Geneva, -from Schiedam, sat smoking on the other; and the bottle-nosed host -stood in the door, and the comely hostess, in crimped cap, beside -him; and the hostess's daughter, a plump Flanders lass, with long -gold pendants in her ears, was at a side window. - -"Humph!" said the rich burgher of Antwerp, with sulky glance at the -stranger. - -"De duyvel!" said the fat little distiller of Schiedam. - -The landlord saw, with the quick glance of a publican, that the new -guest was not at all to the taste of the old ones; and, to tell the -truth, he did not like my grandfather's saucy eye. He shook his -head. "Not a garret in the house but was full." - -"Not a garret!" echoed the landlady. - -"Not a garret!" echoed the daughter. - -The burgher of Antwerp, and the little distiller of Schiedam, -continued to smoke their pipes sullenly, eyeing the enemy askance -from under their broad hats, but said nothing. - -My grandfather was not a man to be browbeaten. He threw the reins on -his horse's neck, cocked his head on one side, stuck one arm -akimbo,--"Faith and troth!" said he, "but I'll sleep in this house -this very night."--As he said this he gave a slap on his thigh, by -way of emphasis--the slap went to the landlady's heart. - -He followed up the vow by jumping off his horse, and making his way -past the staring Mynheers into the public room.--May be you've been -in the bar-room of an old Flemish inn--faith, but a handsome chamber -it was as you'd wish to see; with a brick floor, and a great -fireplace, with the whole Bible history in glazed tiles; and then the -mantelpiece, pitching itself head foremost out of the wall, with a -whole regiment of cracked teapots and earthen jugs paraded on it; not -to mention half a dozen great Delft platters, hung about the room by -way of pictures; and the little bar in one corner, and the bouncing -bar-maid inside of it, with a red calico cap, and yellow ear-drops. - -My grandfather snapped his fingers over his head, as he cast an eye -round the room--"Faith, this is the very house I've been looking -after," said he. - -There was some further show of resistance on the part of the -garrison; but my grandfather was an old soldier, and an Irishman to -boot, and not easily repulsed, especially after he had got into the -fortress. So he blarneyed the landlord, kissed the landlord's wife, -tickled the landlord's daughter, chucked the bar-maid under the chin; -and it was agreed on all hands that it would be a thousand pities, -and a burning shame into the bargain, to turn such a bold dragoon -into the streets. So they laid their heads together, that is to say, -my grandfather and the landlady, and it was at length agreed to -accommodate him with an old chamber, that had been for some time shut -up. - -"Some say it's haunted," whispered the landlord's daughter; "but you -are a bold dragoon, and I dare say don't fear ghosts." - -"The devil a bit!" said my grandfather, pinching her plump cheek. -"But if I should be troubled by ghosts, I've been to the Red Sea in -my time, and have a pleasant way of laying them, my darling." - -And then he whispered something to the girl which made her laugh, and -give him a good-humoured box on the ear. In short, there was nobody -knew better how to make his way among the petticoats than my -grandfather. - -In a little while, as was his usual way, he took complete possession -of the house, swaggering all over it; into the stable to look after -his horse, into the kitchen to look after his supper. He had -something to say or do with everyone; smoked with the Dutchman, drank -with the Germans, slapped the landlord on the shoulder, romped with -his daughter and the bar-maid:--never, since the days of Alley -Croaker, had such a rattling blade been seen. The landlord stared at -him with astonishment; the landlord's daughter hung her head and -giggled whenever he came near; and as he swaggered along the -corridor, with his sword trailing by his side, the maids looked after -him, and whispered to one another, "What a proper man!" - -At supper, my grandfather took command of the table-d'hôte as though -he had been at home; helped everybody, not forgetting himself; talked -with everyone, whether he understood their language or not; and made -his way into the intimacy of the rich burgher of Antwerp, who had -never been known to be sociable with anyone during his life. In -fact, he revolutionised the whole establishment, and gave it such a -rouse, that the very house reeled with it. He outsat everyone at -table, excepting the little fat distiller of Schiedam, who sat -soaking a long time before he broke forth; but when he did, he was a -very devil incarnate. He took a violent affection for my -grandfather; so they sat drinking and smoking, and telling stories, -and singing Dutch and Irish songs, without understanding a word each -other said, until the little Hollander was fairly swamped with his -own gin and water, and carried off to bed, whooping and hickuping, -and trolling the burden of a Low Dutch love-song. - -Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was shown to his quarters up a large -staircase, composed of loads of hewn timber; and through long -rigmarole passages, hung with blackened paintings of fish, and fruit, -and game, and country frolics, and huge kitchens, and portly -burgomasters, such as you see about old-fashioned Flemish inns, till -at length he arrived at his room. - -An old-time chamber it was, sure enough, and crowded with all kinds -of trumpery. It looked like an infirmary for decayed and -superannuated furniture, where everything diseased or disabled was -sent to nurse or to be forgotten. Or rather it might be taken for a -general congress of old legitimate movables, where every kind and -country had a representative. No two chairs were alike. Such high -backs and low backs, and leather bottoms, and worsted bottoms, and -straw bottoms, and no bottoms; and cracked marble tables with -curiously carved legs, holding balls in their claws, as though they -were going to play at nine-pins. - -My grandfather made a bow to the motley assemblage as he entered, -and, having undressed himself, placed his light in the fireplace, -asking pardon of the tongs, which seemed to be making love to the -shovel in the chimney-corner, and whispering soft nonsense in its ear. - -The rest of the guests were by this time sound asleep, for your -Mynheers are huge sleepers. The housemaids, one by one, crept up -yawning to their attics; and not a female head in the inn was laid on -a pillow that night without dreaming of the bold dragoon. - -My grandfather, for his part, got into bed, and drew over him one of -those great bags of down, under which they smother a man in the Low -Countries; and there he lay, melting between two feather beds, like -an anchovy sandwich between two slices of toast and butter. He was a -warm complexioned man, and this smothering played the very deuce with -him. So, sure enough, in a little time it seemed as if a legion of -imps were twitching at him, and all the blood in his veins was in a -fever heat. - -He lay still, however, until all the house was quiet, excepting the -snoring of the Mynheers from the different chambers; who answered one -another in all kinds of tones and cadences, like so many bullfrogs in -a swamp. The quieter the house became, the more unquiet became my -grandfather. He waxed warmer and warmer, until at length the bed -became too hot to hold him. - -"May be the maid had warmed it too much?" said the curious gentleman, -inquiringly. - -"I rather think the contrary," replied the Irishman. "But, be that -as it may, it grew too hot for my grandfather." - -"Faith, there's no standing this any longer," says he. So he jumped -out of bed and went strolling about the house. - -"What for?" said the inquisitive gentleman. - -"Why to cool himself, to be sure--or perhaps to find a more -comfortable bed--or perhaps-- But no matter what he went for--he -never mentioned--and there's no use in taking up our time in -conjecturing." - -Well, my grandfather had been for some time absent from his room, and -was returning, perfectly cool, when just as he reached the door, he -heard a strange noise within. He paused and listened. It seemed as -if someone were trying to hum a tune in defiance of the asthma. He -recollected the report of the room being haunted; but he was no -believer in ghosts, so he pushed the door gently open and peeped in. - -Egad, gentlemen, there was a gambol carrying on within enough to have -astonished St. Anthony himself. By the light of the fire he saw a -pale weazen-faced fellow, in a long flannel gown and a tall white -night-cap with a tassel to it, who sat by the fire with a bellows -under his arm by way of bagpipe, from which he forced the asthmatical -music that had bothered my grandfather. As he played, too, he kept -twitching about with a thousand queer contortions, nodding his head, -and bobbing about his tasselled night-cap. - -My grandfather thought this very odd and mighty presumptuous, and was -about to demand what business he had to play his wind instrument in -another gentleman's quarters, when a new cause of astonishment met -his eye. From the opposite side of the room a long-backed, -bandy-legged chair covered with leather, and studded all over in a -cox-combical fashion with little brass nails, got suddenly into -motion, thrust out first a claw-foot, then a crooked arm, and at -length, making a leg, slided gracefully up to an easy chair of -tarnished brocade, with a hole in its bottom, and led it gallantly -out in a ghostly minuet about the floor. - -The musician now played fiercer and fiercer, and bobbed his head and -his night-cap about like mad. By degrees the dancing mania seemed to -seize upon all the other pieces of furniture. The antique, -long-bodied chairs paired off in couples and led down a country -dance; a three-legged stool danced a horn-pipe, though horribly -puzzled by its supernumerary limb; while the amorous tongs seized the -shovel round the waist, and whirled it about the room in a German -waltz. In short, all the movables got in motion: pirouetting hands -across, right and left, like so many devils; all except a great -clothes-press, which kept courtesying and courtesying in a corner, -like a dowager, in exquisite time to the music; being rather too -corpulent to dance, or, perhaps at a loss for a partner. - -My grandfather concluded the latter to be the reason; so being, like -a true Irishman, devoted to the sex, and at all times ready for a -frolic, he bounced into the room, called to the musician to strike up -Paddy O'Rafferty, capered up to the clothes-press, and seized upon -the two handles to lead her out:----when--whirr! the whole revel was -at an end. The chairs, tables, tongs, and shovel slunk in an instant -as quietly into their places as if nothing had happened, and the -musician vanished up the chimney, leaving the bellows behind him in -his hurry. My grandfather found himself seated in the middle of the -floor with the clothes-press sprawling before him, and the two -handles jerked off, and in his hands. - -"Then, after all, this was a mere dream!" said the inquisitive -gentleman. - -"The divil a bit of a dream!" replied the Irishman. "There never was -a truer fact in this world. Faith, I should have liked to see any -man tell my grandfather it was a dream." - -Well, gentlemen, as the clothes-press was a mighty heavy body, and my -grandfather likewise, particularly in rear, you may easily suppose -that two such heavy bodies coming to the ground would make a bit of a -noise. Faith, the old mansion shook as though it had mistaken it for -an earthquake. The whole garrison was alarmed. The landlord, who -slept below, hurried up with a candle to inquire the cause, but with -all his haste his daughter had arrived at the scene of uproar before -him. The landlord was followed by the landlady, who was followed by -the bouncing bar-maid, who was followed by the simpering -chambermaids, all holding together, as well as they could, such -garments as they first laid hands on; but all in a terrible hurry to -see what the deuce was to pay in the chamber of the bold dragoon. - -My grandfather related the marvellous scene he had witnessed, and the -broken handles of the prostrate clothes-press bore testimony to the -fact. There was no contesting such evidence; particularly with a lad -of my grandfather's complexion, who seemed able to make good every -word either with sword or shillelah. So the landlord scratched his -head and looked silly, as he was apt to do when puzzled. The -landlady scratched--no, she did not scratch her head but she knit her -brow, and did not seem half pleased with the explanation. But the -landlady's daughter corroborated it by recollecting that the last -person who had dwelt in that chamber was a famous juggler who died of -St. Vitus's dance, and had no doubt infected all the furniture. - -This set all things to rights, particularly when the chambermaids -declared that they had all witnessed strange carryings on in that -room; and as they declared this "upon their honours," there could not -remain a doubt upon the subject. - -"And did your grandfather go to bed again in that room?" said the -inquisitive gentleman. - -"That's more than I can tell. Where he passed the rest of the night -was a secret he never disclosed. In fact, though he had seen much -service, he was but indifferently acquainted with geography, and apt -to make blunders in his travels about inns at night, which it would -have puzzled him sadly to account for in the morning." - -"Was he ever apt to walk in his sleep?" said the knowing old -gentleman. - -"Never that I heard of." - - - - -IV - -THE BET* - -ANTON CHEKHOV - -*Reprinted by permission of John W. Luce and Company. - - -I - -It was a dark autumn night. The old banker was pacing from corner to -corner of his study, recalling to his mind the party he gave in the -autumn fifteen years ago. There were many clever people at the party -and much interesting conversation. They talked among other things of -capital punishment. The guests, among them not a few scholars and -journalists, for the most part disapproved of capital punishment. -They found it obsolete as a means of punishment, unfitted to a -Christian state and immoral. Some of them thought that capital -punishment should be replaced universally by life-imprisonment. - -"I don't agree with you," said the host. "I myself have experienced -neither capital punishment nor life-imprisonment, but if one may -judge _a priori_, then in my opinion capital punishment is more moral -and more humane than imprisonment. Execution kills instantly, -life-imprisonment kills by degrees. Who is the more humane -executioner, one who kills you in a few seconds or one who draws the -life out of you incessantly, for years?" - -"They're both equally immoral," remarked one of the guests, "because -their purpose is the same, to take away life. The state is not God. -It has no right to take away that which it cannot give back, if it -should so desire." - -Among the company was a lawyer, a young man of about twenty-five. On -being asked his opinion, he said: - -"Capital punishment and life-imprisonment are equally immoral; but if -I were offered the choice between them, I would certainly choose the -second. It's better to live somehow than not to live at all." - -There ensued a lively discussion. The banker who was then younger -and more nervous suddenly lost his temper, banged his fist on the -table, and turning to the young lawyer, cried out: - -"It's a lie. I bet you two millions you wouldn't stick in a cell -even for five years." - -"If that's serious," replied the lawyer, "then I bet I'll stay not -five but fifteen." - -"Fifteen! Done!" cried the banker. "Gentlemen, I stake two -millions." - -"Agreed. You stake two millions, I my freedom," said the lawyer. - -So this wild, ridiculous bet came to pass. The banker, who at that -time had too many millions to count, spoiled and capricious, was -beside himself with rapture. During supper he said to the lawyer -jokingly: - -"Come to your senses, young man, before it's too late. Two millions -are nothing to me, but you stand to lose three or four of the best -years of your life. I say three or four, because you'll never stick -it out any longer. Don't forget either, you unhappy man, that -voluntary is much heavier than enforced imprisonment. The idea that -you have the right to free yourself at any moment will poison the -whole of your life in the cell. I pity you." - -And now the banker pacing from corner to corner recalled all this and -asked himself: - -"Why did I make this bet? What's the good? The lawyer loses fifteen -years of his life and I throw away two millions. Will it convince -people that capital punishment is worse or better than imprisonment -for life? No, No! all stuff and rubbish. On my part, it was the -caprice of a well-fed man; on the lawyer's, pure greed of gold." - -He recollected further what happened after the evening party. It was -decided that the lawyer must undergo his imprisonment under the -strictest observation, in a garden-wing of the banker's house. It -was agreed that during the period he would be deprived of the right -to cross the threshold, to see living people, to hear human voices, -and to receive letters and newspapers. He was permitted to have a -musical instrument, to read books, to write letters, to drink wine -and smoke tobacco. By the agreement he could communicate, but only -in silence with the outside world through a little window specially -constructed for this purpose. Everything necessary, books, music, -wine, he could receive in any quantity by sending a note through the -window. The agreement provided for all the minutest details, which -made the confinement strictly solitary, and it obliged the lawyer to -remain exactly fifteen years from twelve o'clock of November 14th -1870 to twelve o'clock of November 14th 1885. The least attempt on -his part to violate the conditions, to escape if only for two minutes -before the time freed the banker from the obligation to pay him the -two millions. - -During the first year of imprisonment, the lawyer, as far as it was -possible to judge from his short notes, suffered terribly from -loneliness and boredom. From his wing day and night came the sound -of the piano. He rejected wine and tobacco. "Wine," he wrote, -"excites desires, and desires are the chief foes of a prisoner; -besides, nothing is more boring than to drink good wine alone," and -tobacco spoils the air in his room. During the first year the lawyer -was sent books of a light character; novels with a complicated love -interest, stories of crime and fantasy, comedies, and so on. - -In the second year the piano was heard no longer and the lawyer asked -only for classics. In the fifth year music was heard again, and the -prisoner asked for wine. Those who watched him said that during the -whole of that year he was only eating, drinking, and lying on his -bed. He yawned often and talked angrily to himself. Books he did -not read. Sometimes at nights he would sit down to write. He would -write for a long time and tear it all up in the morning. More than -once he was heard to weep. - -In the second half of the sixth year, the prisoner began zealously to -study languages, philosophy, and history. He fell on these subjects -so hungrily that the banker hardly had time to get books enough for -him. In the space of four years about six hundred volumes were -bought at his request. It was while that passion lasted that the -banker received the following letter from the prisoner: "My dear -gaoler, I am writing these lines in six languages. Show them to -experts. Let them read them. If they do not find one single -mistake, I beg you to give orders to have a gun fired off in the -garden. By the noise I shall know that my efforts have not been in -vain. The geniuses of all ages and countries speak in different -languages; but in them all burns the same flame. Oh, if you knew my -heavenly happiness now that I can understand them!" The prisoner's -desire was fulfilled. Two shots were fired in the garden by the -banker's order. - -Later on, after the tenth year, the lawyer sat immovable before his -table and read only the New Testament. The banker found it strange -that a man who in four years had mastered six hundred erudite -volumes, should have spent nearly a year in reading one book, easy to -understand and by no means thick. The New Testament was then -replaced by the history of religions and theology. - -During the last two years of his confinement the prisoner read an -extraordinary amount, quite haphazard. Now he would apply himself to -the natural sciences, then would read Byron or Shakespeare. Notes -used to come from him in which he asked to be sent at the same time a -book on chemistry, a textbook of medicine, a novel, and some treatise -on philosophy or theology. He read as though he were swimming in the -sea among the broken pieces of wreckage, and in his desire to save -his life was eagerly grasping one piece after another. - - - -II - -The banker recalled all this, and thought: - -"To-morrow at twelve o'clock he receives his freedom. Under the -agreement, I shall have to pay him two millions. If I pay, it's all -over with me. I am ruined for ever...." - -Fifteen years before he had too many millions to count, but now he -was afraid to ask himself which he had more of, money or debts. -Gambling on the Stock-Exchange, risky speculation, and the -recklessness of which he could not rid himself even in old age, had -gradually brought his business to decay; and the fearless, -self-confident, proud man of business had become an ordinary banker, -trembling at every rise and fall in the market. - -"That cursed bet," murmured the old man, clutching his head in -despair.... "Why didn't the man die? He's only forty years old. He -will take away my last farthing, marry, enjoy life, gamble on the -Exchange, and I will look on like an envious beggar and hear the same -words from him every day: 'I'm obliged to you for the happiness of my -life. Let me help you.' No, it's too much! The only escape from -bankruptcy and disgrace--is that the man should die." - -The clock had just struck three. The banker was listening. In the -house everyone was asleep, and one could hear only the frozen trees -whining outside the windows. Trying to make no sound, he took out of -his safe the key of the door which had not been opened for fifteen -years, put on his overcoat, and went out of the house. The garden -was dark and cold. It was raining. A keen damp wind hovered howling -over all the garden and gave the trees no rest. Though he strained -his eyes, the banker could see neither the ground, nor the white -statues, nor the garden-whig, nor the trees. Approaching the place -where the garden wing stood, he called the watchman twice. There was -no answer. Evidently the watchman had taken shelter from the bad -weather and was now asleep somewhere in the kitchen or the greenhouse. - -"If I have the courage to fulfil my intention," thought the old man, -"the suspicion will fall on the watchman first of all." - -In the darkness he groped for the stairs and the door and entered the -hall of the garden-wing, then poked his way into a narrow passage and -struck a match. Not a soul was there. Someone's bed, with no -bedclothes on it, stood there, and an iron stove was dark in the -corner. The seals on the door that led into the prisoner's room were -unbroken. - -When the match went out, the old man, trembling from agitation, -peeped into the little window. - -In the prisoner's room a candle was burning dim. The prisoner -himself sat by the table. Only his back, the hair on his head and -his hands were visible. On the table, the two chairs, and the carpet -by the table open books were strewn. - -Five minutes passed and the prisoner never once stirred. Fifteen -years' confinement had taught him to sit motionless. The banker -tapped on the window with his finger, but the prisoner gave no -movement in reply. Then the banker cautiously tore the seals from -the door and put the key into the lock. The rusty lock gave a hoarse -groan and the door creaked. The banker expected instantly to hear a -cry of surprise and the sound of steps. Three minutes passed and it -was as quiet behind the door as it had been before. He made up his -mind to enter. - -Before the table sat a man, unlike an ordinary human being. It was a -skeleton, with tight-drawn skin, with a woman's long curly hair, and -a shaggy beard. The colour of his face was yellow, of an earthy -shade; the cheeks were sunken, the back long and narrow, and the hand -upon which he leaned his hairy head was so lean and skinny that it -was painful to look upon. His hair was already silvering with grey, -and no one who glanced at the senile emaciation of the face would -have believed that he was only forty years old. On the table, before -his bended head, lay a sheet of paper on which something was written -in a tiny hand. - -"Poor devil," thought the banker, "he's asleep and probably seeing -millions in his dreams. I have only to take and throw this half-dead -thing on the bed, smother him a moment with the pillow, and the most -careful examination will find no trace of unnatural death. But, -first, let us read what he has written here." - -The banker took the sheet from the table and read: - -"To-morrow at twelve o'clock midnight, I shall obtain my freedom and -the right to mix with people. But before I leave this room and see -the sun I think it necessary to say a few words to you. On my own -clear conscience and before God who sees me I declare to you that I -despise freedom, life, health, and all that your books call the -blessings of the world. - -"For fifteen years I have diligently studied earthly life. True, I -saw neither the earth nor the people, but in your books I drank -fragrant wine, sang songs, hunted deer and wild boar in the forests, -loved women.... And beautiful women, like clouds ethereal, created -by the magic of your poets' genius, visited me by night and whispered -me wonderful tales, which made my head drunken. In your books I -climbed the summits of Elbruz and Mont Blanc and saw from thence how -the sun rose in the morning, and in the evening overflowed the sky, -the ocean, and the mountain ridges with a purple gold. I saw from -thence how above me lightnings glimmered cleaving the clouds; I saw -green forests, fields, rivers, lakes, cities; I heard syrens singing, -and the playing of the pipes of Pan; I touched the wings of beautiful -devils who came flying to me to speak of God.... In your books I -cast myself into bottomless abysses, worked miracles, burned cities -to the ground, preached new religions, conquered whole countries.... - -"Your books gave me wisdom. All that unwearying human thought -created in the centuries is compressed to a little lump in my skull. -I know that I am more clever than you all. - -"And I despise your books, despise all worldly blessings and wisdom. -Everything is void, frail, visionary and delusive like a mirage. -Though you be proud and wise and beautiful, yet will death wipe you -from the face of the earth like the mice underground; and your -posterity, your history, and the immortality of your men of genius -will be as frozen slag, burnt down together with the terrestrial -globe. - -"You are mad, and gone the wrong way. You take lie for truth and -ugliness for beauty. You would marvel if by certain conditions there -should suddenly grow on apple and orange trees, instead of fruit, -frogs and lizards, and if roses should begin to breathe the odour of -a sweating horse. So do I marvel at you, who have bartered heaven -for earth. I do not want to understand you. - -"That I may show you in deed my contempt for that by which you live, -I waive the two millions of which I once dreamed as of paradise, and -which I now despise. That I may deprive myself of my right to them, -I shall come out from here five minutes before the stipulated term, -and thus shall violate the agreement." - -When he had read, the banker put the sheet on the table, kissed the -head of the strange man, and began to weep. He went out of the wing. -Never at any other time, not even after his terrible losses on the -Exchange, had he felt such contempt for himself as now. Coming home, -he lay down on his bed, but agitation and tears kept him long from -sleep.... - -The next morning the poor watchman came running to him and told him -that they had seen the man who lived in the wing climbing through the -window into the garden. He had gone to the gate and disappeared. -Together with his servants the banker went instantly to the wing and -established the escape of his prisoner. To avoid unnecessary rumours -he took the paper with the renunciation from the table and, on his -return, locked it in his safe. - - - - -V - -LA GRANDE BRETČCHE* - -HONORÉ DE BALZAC - -*Translated by Katherine Prescott Wormeley. Reprinted by permission -of Little, Brown, and Company. - - -"Ah! Madame," replied Doctor Horace Bianchon to the lady at whose -house he was supping, "it is true that I have many terrible histories -in my repertory; but every tale has its due hour in a conversation, -according to the clever saying reported by Chamfort and said to the -Duc de Fronsac: 'There are ten bottles of champagne between your joke -and the present moment.'" - -"But it is past midnight; what better hour could you have?" said the -mistress of the house. - -"Yes, tell us, Monsieur Bianchon," urged the assembled company. - -At a gesture from the complying doctor, silence reigned. - -"About a hundred yards from Vendôme," he said, "on the banks of the -Loire, is an old brown house, covered with very steep roofs, and so -completely isolated that there is not so much as an evil-smelling -tannery, nor a shabby inn such as you see at the entrance of all -little towns, in its neighbourhood. In front of this dwelling is a -garden overlooking the river, where the box edgings, once carefully -clipped, which bordered the paths, now cross them and straggle as -they fancy. A few willows with their roots in the Loire have made a -rapid growth, like the enclosing hedge, and together they half hide -the house. Plants which we call weeds drape the bank toward the -river with their beautiful vegetation. Fruit-trees, neglected for -half a score of years, no longer yield a product, and their shoots -and suckers have formed an undergrowth. The espaliers are like a -hornbeam hedge. The paths, formerly gravelled, are full of purslain; -so that, strictly speaking, there are no paths at all. - -"From the crest of the mountain, on which hang the ruins of the old -castle of Vendôme (the only spot whence the eye can look down into -this enclosure) we say to ourselves that at an earlier period, now -difficult to determine, this corner of the earth was the delight of -some gentleman devoted to roses and tulips, in a word, to -horticulture, but above all possessing a keen taste for good fruits. -An arbour is still standing, or rather the remains of one, and -beneath it is a table which time has not yet completely demolished. - -"From the aspect of this garden, now no more, the negative joys of -the peaceful life of the provinces can be inferred, just as we infer -the life of some worthy from the epitaph on his tomb. To complete -the sad and tender ideas which take possession of the soul, a sundial -on the wall bears this inscription, Christian yet bourgeois, 'ULTIMAM -COGITA.' The roofs are dilapidated, the blinds always closed, the -balconies are filled with swallows' nests, the gates are locked. -Tall herbs and grasses trace in green lines the chinks and crevices -of the stone portico; the locks are rusty. Sun and moon, summer and -winter and snow have rotted the wood, warped the planks, and worn -away the paint. The gloomy silence is unbroken save by the birds, -the cats, the martens, the rats, the mice, all free to scamper or -fly, and to fight, and to eat themselves up. - -"An invisible hand has written the word 'MYSTERY' everywhere. If, -impelled by curiosity, you wish to look at this house, on the side -toward the road you will see a large gate with an arched top, in -which the children of the neighbourhood have made large holes. This -gate, as I heard later, had been disused for ten years. Through -these irregular holes you can observe the perfect harmony which -exists between the garden side and the courtyard side of the -premises. The same neglect everywhere. Lines of grass surround the -paving-stones. Enormous cracks furrow the walls, the blackened eaves -of which are festooned with pellitory. The steps of the portico are -disjointed, the rope of the bell is rotten, the gutters are dropping -apart. What fire from heaven has fallen here? What tribunal has -ordained that salt be cast upon this dwelling? Has God been mocked -here; or France betrayed? These are the questions we ask as we stand -there; the reptiles crawl about but they give no answer. - -"This empty and deserted house is a profound enigma, whose solution -is known to none. It was formerly a small fief, and is called La -Grande Bretčche. During my stay at Vendôme, where Desplein had sent -me in charge of a rich patient, the sight of this strange dwelling -was one of my keenest pleasures. It was better than a ruin. A ruin -possesses memories of positive authenticity; but this habitation, -still standing, though slowly demolished by an avenging hand, -contained some secret, some mysterious thought,--it betrayed at least -a strange caprice. - -"More than once of an evening I jumped the hedge, now a tangle, which -guarded the enclosure. I braved the scratches; I walked that garden -without a master, that property which was neither public nor private; -for hours I stayed there contemplating its decay. Not even to obtain -the history which underlay (and to which no doubt was due) this -strange spectacle would I have asked a single question of any -gossiping countryman. Standing there I invented enchanting tales; I -gave myself up to debauches of melancholy which fascinated me. Had I -known the reason, perhaps a common one, for this strange desertion, I -should have lost the unwritten poems with which I intoxicated myself. -To me this sanctuary evoked the most varied images of human life -darkened by sorrows; sometimes it was a cloister without the nuns; -sometimes a graveyard and its peace, without the dead who talk to you -in epitaphs; to-day the house of the leper, to-morrow that of the -Atrides; but above all was it the provinces with their composed -ideas, their hour-glass life. - -"Often I wept there, but I never smiled. More than once an -involuntary terror seized me, as I heard above my head the muffled -whirr of a ringdove's wings hurrying past. The soil is damp; care -must be taken against the lizards, the vipers, the frogs, which -wander about with the wild liberty of nature; above all, it is well -not to fear cold, for there are moments when you feel an icy mantle -laid upon your shoulders like the hand of the Commander on the -shoulder of Don Juan. One evening I shuddered; the wind had caught -and turned a rusty vane. Its creak was like a moan issuing from the -house; at a moment, too, when I was ending a gloomy drama in which I -explained to myself the monumental dolor of that scene. - -"That night I returned to my inn, a prey to gloomy thoughts. After I -had supped the landlady entered my room with a mysterious air, and -said to me, 'Monsieur, Monsieur Regnault is here.' - -"'Who is Monsieur Regnault?' - -"'Is it possible that monsieur doesn't know Monsieur Regnault? Ah, -how funny!' she said, leaving the room. - -"Suddenly I beheld a long, slim man, clothed in black, holding his -hat in his hand, who presented himself, much like a ram about to leap -on a rival, and showed me a retreating forehead, a small, pointed -head and a livid face, in colour somewhat like a glass of dirty -water. You would have taken him for the usher of a minister. This -unknown personage wore an old coat much worn in the folds, but he had -a diamond in the frill of his shirt, and gold earrings in his ears. - -"'Monsieur, to whom have I the honour of speaking?' I said. - -"He took a chair, sat down before my fire, laid his hat on my table -and replied, rubbing his hands: 'Ah! it is very cold. Monsieur, I am -Monsieur Regnault.' - -"I bowed, saying to myself: '_Il bondo cani!_ seek!' - -"'I am,' he said, 'the notary of Vendôme.' - -"'Delighted, monsieur,' I replied, 'but I am not in the way of making -my will,--for reasons, alas, too well-known to me.' - -"'One moment!' he resumed, raising his hand as if to impose silence; -'Permit me, monsieur, permit me! I have learned that you sometimes -enter the garden of La Grande Bretčche and walk there--' - -"'Yes, monsieur.' - -"'One moment!' he said, repeating his gesture. 'That action -constitutes a misdemeanor. Monsieur, I come in the name and as -testamentary executor of the late Comtesse de Merret to beg you to -discontinue your visits. One moment! I am not a Turk; I do not wish -to impute a crime to you. Besides, it is quite excusable that you, a -stranger, should be ignorant of the circumstances which compel me to -let the handsomest house in Vendôme go to ruin. Nevertheless, -monsieur, as you seem to be a person of education, you no doubt know -that the law forbids trespassers on enclosed property. A hedge is -the same as a wall. But the state in which that house is left may -well excuse your curiosity. I should be only too glad to leave you -free to go and come as you liked there, but charged as I am to -execute the wishes of the testatrix, I have the honour, monsieur, to -request that you do not again enter that garden. I myself, monsieur, -have not, since the reading of the will, set foot in that house, -which, as I have already had the honour to tell you, I hold under the -will of Madame de Merret. We have only taken account of the number -of the doors and windows so as to assess the taxes which I pay -annually from the funds left by the late countess for that purpose. -Ah, monsieur, that will made a great deal of noise in Vendôme!' - -"There the worthy man paused to blow his nose. I respected his -loquacity, understanding perfectly that the testamentary bequest of -Madame de Merret had been the most important event of his life, the -head and front of his reputation, his glory, his Restoration. So -then, I must bid adieu to my beautiful reveries, my romances! I was -not so rebellious as to deprive myself of getting the truth, as it -were officially, out of the man of law, so I said,-- - -"'Monsieur, if it is not indiscreet, may I ask the reason of this -singularity?' - -"At these words a look which expressed the pleasure of a man who -rides a hobby passed over Monsieur Regnault's face. He pulled up his -shirt-collar with a certain conceit, took out his snuff-box, opened -it, offered it to me, and on my refusal, took a strong pinch himself. -He was happy. A man who hasn't a hobby doesn't know how much can be -got out of life. A hobby is the exact medium between a passion and a -monomania. At that moment I understood Sterne's fine expression to -its fullest extent, and I formed a complete idea of the joy with -which my Uncle Toby--Trim assisting--bestrode his war-horse. - -"'Monsieur,' said Monsieur Regnault, 'I was formerly head-clerk to -Maître Roguin in Paris. An excellent lawyer's office of which you -have doubtless heard? No! And yet a most unfortunate failure made -it, I may say, celebrated. Not having the means to buy a practice in -Paris at the price to which they rose in 1816, I came here to -Vendôme, where I have relations,--among them a rich aunt, who gave me -her daughter in marriage.' - -"Here he made a slight pause, and then resumed: - -"'Three months after my appointment was ratified by Monseigneur the -Keeper of the Seals, I was sent for one evening just as I was going -to bed (I was not then married) by Madame la Comtesse de Merret, then -living in her château at Merret. Her lady's-maid, an excellent girl -who is now serving in this inn, was at the door with the countess's -carriage. Ah! one moment! I ought to tell you, monsieur, that -Monsieur le Comte de Merret had gone to die in Paris about two months -before I came here. He died a miserable death from excesses of all -kinds, to which he gave himself up. You understand? Well, the day -of his departure Madame la Comtesse left La Grande Bretčche, and -dismantled it. They do say that she even burned the furniture, and -the carpets, and all appurtenances whatsoever and wheresoever -contained on the premises leased to the said--Ah! beg pardon; what am -I saying? I thought I was dictating a lease. Well, monsieur, she -burned everything, they say, in the meadow at Merret. Were you ever -at Merret, monsieur?' - -"Not waiting for me to speak, he answered for me: 'No. Ah! it is a -fine spot? For three months, or thereabouts,' he continued, nodding -his head, 'Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse had been living -at La Grande Bretčche in a very singular way. They admitted no one -to the house; madame lived on the ground-floor, and monsieur on the -first floor. After Madame la Comtesse was left alone she never went -to church. Later, in her own château she refused to see the friends -who came to visit her. She changed greatly after she left La Grande -Bretčche and came to Merret. That dear woman (I say dear, though I -never saw her but once, because she gave me this diamond),--that good -lady was very ill; no doubt she had given up all hope of recovery, -for she died without calling in a doctor; in fact, some of our ladies -thought she was not quite right in her mind. Consequently, monsieur, -my curiosity was greatly excited when I learned that Madame de Merret -needed my services; and I was not the only one deeply interested; -that very night, though it was late, the whole town knew I had gone -to Merret.' - -"The good man paused a moment to arrange his facts, and then -continued: 'The lady's maid answered rather vaguely the questions -which I put to her as we drove along; she did, however, tell me that -her mistress had received the last sacraments that day from the -curate of Merret, and that she was not likely to live through the -night. I reached the château about eleven o'clock. I went up the -grand staircase. After passing through a number of dark and lofty -rooms, horribly cold and damp, I entered the state bedroom where -Madame la Comtesse was lying. In consequence of the many stories -that were told about this lady (really, monsieur, I should never end -if I related all of them) I expected to find her a fascinating -coquette. Would you believe it, I could scarcely see her at all in -the huge bed in which she lay. It is true that the only light in -that vast room, with friezes of the old style powdered with dust -enough to make you sneeze on merely looking at them, was one Argand -lamp. Ah! but you say you have never been at Merret. Well, -monsieur, the bed was one of those old-time beds with a high tester -covered with flowered chintz. A little night-table stood by the bed, -and on it I noticed a copy of the "Imitation of Christ." - -"'Allow me a parenthesis,' he said, interrupting himself. 'I bought -that book subsequently, also the lamp, and presented them to my wife. -In the room was a large sofa for the woman who was taking care of -Madame de Merret, and two chairs. That was all. No fire. The whole -would not have made ten lines of an inventory. Ah! my dear monsieur, -could you have seen her as I saw her then, in that vast room hung -with brown tapestry, you would have imagined you were in the pages of -a novel. It was glacial,--better than that, funereal,' added the -worthy man, raising his arm theatrically and making a pause. -Presently he resumed: - -"'By dint of peering round and coming close to the bed I at length -saw Madame de Merret, thanks to the lamp which happened to shine on -the pillows. Her face was as yellow as wax, and looked like two -hands joined together. Madame la Comtesse wore a lace cap, which, -however, allowed me to see her fine hair, white as snow. She was -sitting up in the bed, but apparently did so with difficulty. Her -large black eyes, sunken no doubt with fever, and almost lifeless, -hardly moved beneath the bones where the eyebrows usually grow. Her -forehead was damp. Her fleshless hands were like bones covered with -thin skin; the veins and muscles could all be seen. She must once -have been very handsome, but now I was seized with--I couldn't tell -you what feeling, as I looked at her. Those who buried her said -afterward that no living creature had ever been as wasted as she -without dying. Well, it was awful to see. Some mortal disease had -eaten up that woman till there was nothing left of her but a phantom. -Her lips, of a pale violet, seemed not to move when she spoke. -Though my profession had familiarised me with such scenes, in -bringing me often to the bedside of the dying, to receive their last -wishes, I must say that the tears and the anguish of families and -friends which I have witnessed were as nothing compared to this -solitary woman in that vast building. I did not hear the slightest -noise, I did not see the movement which the breathing of the dying -woman would naturally give to the sheet that covered her; I myself -remained motionless, looking at her in a sort of stupor. Indeed, I -fancy I am there still. At last her large eyes moved; she tried to -lift her right hand, which fell back upon the bed; then these words -issued from her lips like a breath, for her voice was no longer a -voice,-- - -"'"I have awaited you with impatience." - -"'Her cheeks coloured. The effort to speak was great. The old woman -who was watching her here rose and whispered in my ear: "Don't speak; -Madame la Comtesse is past hearing the slightest sound; you would -only agitate her." I sat down. A few moments later Madame de Merret -collected all her remaining strength to move her right arm and put -it, not without great difficulty, under her bolster. She paused an -instant; then she made a last effort and withdrew her hand which now -held a sealed paper. Great drops of sweat rolled from her forehead. - -"'"I give you my will," she said. "Oh, my God! Oh!" - -"'That was all. She seized a crucifix which lay on her bed, pressed -it to her lips, and died. The expression of her fixed eyes still -makes me shudder when I think of it. I brought away the will. When -it was opened I found that Madame de Merret had appointed me her -executor. She bequeathed her whole property to the hospital of -Vendôme, save and excepting certain bequests. The following -disposition was made of La Grande Bretčche. I was directed to leave -it in the state in which it was at the time of her death for a period -of fifty years from the date of her decease; I was to forbid all -access to it, by any- and everyone, no matter who; to make no -repairs, and to put by from her estate a yearly sum to pay watchers, -if they were necessary, to insure the faithful execution of these -intentions. At the expiration of that time the estate was, if the -testatrix's will had been carried out in all particulars, to belong -to my heirs (because, as monsieur is doubtless well aware, notaries -are forbidden by law to receive legacies); if otherwise, then La -Grande Bretčche was to go to whoever might establish a right to it, -but on condition of fulfilling certain orders contained in a codicil -annexed to the will and not to be opened until the expiration of the -fifty years. The will has never been attacked, consequently--' - -"Here the oblong notary, without finishing his sentence, looked at me -triumphantly. I made him perfectly happy with a few compliments. - -"'Monsieur,' I said, in conclusion, 'you have so deeply impressed -that scene upon me that I seem to see the dying woman, whiter than -the sheets; those glittering eyes horrify me; I shall dream of her -all night. But you must have formed some conjectures as to the -motive of that extraordinary will.' - -"'Monsieur,' he replied, with comical reserve, 'I never permit myself -to judge of the motives of those who honour me with the gift of a -diamond.' - -"However, I managed to unloose the tongue of the scrupulous notary so -far that he told me, not without long digressions, certain opinions -on the matter emanating from the wise-heads of both sexes whose -judgments made the social law of Vendôme. But these opinions and -observations were so contradictory, so diffuse, that I well-nigh went -to sleep in spite of the interest I felt in this authentic story. -The heavy manner and monotonous accent of the notary, who was no -doubt in the habit of listening to himself and making his clients and -compatriots listen to him, triumphed over my curiosity. Happily, he -did at last go away. - -"'Ha, ha! monsieur,' he said to me at the head of the stairs, 'many -persons would like to live their forty-five years longer, but, one -moment!'--here he laid the forefinger of his right hand on his nose -as if he meant to say, Now pay attention to this!--'in order to do -that, to do that, they ought to skip the sixties.' - -"I shut my door, the notary's jest, which he thought very witty, -having drawn me from my apathy; then I sat down in my armchair and -put both feet on the andirons. I was plunged in a romance _ŕ la_ -Radcliffe, based on the notarial disclosures of Monsieur Regnault, -when my door, softly opened by the hand of a woman, turned -noiselessly on its hinges. - -"I saw my landlady, a jovial, stout woman, with a fine, good-humoured -face, who had missed her true surroundings; she was from Flanders, -and might have stepped out of a picture by Teniers. - -"'Well, monsieur,' she said, 'Monsieur Regnault has no doubt recited -to you his famous tale of La Grande Bretčche?' - -"'Yes, Madame Lepas.' - -"'What did he tell you?' - -"I repeated in a few words the dark and chilling story of Madame de -Merret as imparted to me by the notary. At each sentence my landlady -ran out her chin and looked at me with the perspicacity of an -inn-keeper, which combines the instinct of a policeman, the -astuteness of a spy, and the cunning of a shopkeeper. - -"'My dear Madame Lepas,' I added, in conclusion, 'you evidently know -more than that. If not, why did you come up here to me?' - -"'On the word, now, of an honest woman, just as true as my name is -Lepas--' - -"'Don't swear, for your eyes are full of the secret. You knew -Monsieur de Merret. What sort of man was he?' - -"'Goodness! Monsieur de Merret? well, you see, he was a handsome -man, so tall you never could see the top of him,--a very worthy -gentleman from Picardy, who had, as you may say, a temper of his own; -and he knew it. He paid everyone in cash so as to have no quarrels. -But, I tell you, he could be quick. Our ladies thought him very -pleasant.' - -"'Because of his temper?' I asked. - -"'Perhaps,' she replied. 'You know, monsieur, a man must have -something to the fore, as they say, to marry a lady like Madame de -Merret, who, without disparaging others, was the handsomest and the -richest woman in Vendôme. She had an income of nearly twenty -thousand francs. All the town was at the wedding. The bride was so -dainty and captivating, a real little jewel of a woman. Ah! they -were a fine couple in those days!' - -"'Was their home a happy one?' - -"'Hum, hum! yes and no, so far as anyone can say; for you know well -enough that the like of us don't live hand and glove with the like of -them. Madame de Merret was a good woman and very charming, who no -doubt had to bear a good deal from her husband's temper; we all liked -her though she was rather haughty. Bah! that was her bringing up, -and she was born so. When people are noble--don't you see?' - -"'Yes, but there must have been some terrible catastrophe, for -Monsieur and Madame de Merret to separate violently.' - -"'I never said there was a catastrophe, monsieur; I know nothing -about it.' - -"'Very good; now I am certain that you know all.' - -"'Well, monsieur, I'll tell you all I do know. When I saw Monsieur -Regnault coming after you I knew he would tell you about Madame de -Merret and La Grande Bretčche; and that gave me the idea of -consulting monsieur, who seems to be a gentleman of good sense, -incapable of betraying a poor woman like me, who has never done harm -to anyone, but who is, somehow, troubled in her conscience. I have -never dared to say a word to the people about here, for they are all -gossips, with tongues like steel blades. And there's never been a -traveller who has stayed as long as you have, monsieur, to whom I -could tell all about the fifteen thousand francs-- - -"'My dear Madame Lepas,' I replied, trying to stop the flow of words, -'if your confidence is of a nature to compromise me, I wouldn't hear -it for worlds.' - -"'Oh, don't be afraid,' she said, interrupting me. 'You'll see--' - -"This haste to tell made me quite certain I was not the first to whom -my good landlady had communicated the secret of which I was to be the -sole repository, so I listened. - -"'Monsieur,' she said, 'when the Emperor sent the Spanish and other -prisoners of war to Vendôme I lodged one of them (at the cost of the -government),--a young Spaniard on parole. But in spite of his parole -he had to report every day to the sub-prefect. He was a grandee of -Spain, with a name that ended in _os_ and in _dia_, like all -Spaniards--Bagos de Férédia. I wrote his name on the register, and -you can see it if you like. Oh, he was a handsome young fellow for a -Spaniard, who, they tell me, are all ugly. He wasn't more than five -feet two or three inches, but he was well made. He had pretty little -hands which he took care of--ah, you should just have seen him! He -had as many brushes for those hands as a woman has for her head. He -had fine black hair, a fiery eye, a rather copper-coloured skin, but -it was pleasant to look at all the same. He wore the finest linen I -ever saw on anyone, and I have lodged princesses, and, among others, -General Bertrand, the Duc and Duchesse d'Abrantčs, Monsieur Decazes, -and the King of Spain. He didn't eat much; but he had such polite -manners and was always so amiable that I couldn't find fault with -him. Oh! I did really love him, though he never said four words a -day to me; if anyone spoke to him, he never answered,--that's an -oddity those grandees have, a sort of mania, so I'm told. He read -his breviary like a priest, and he went to mass and to all the -services regularly. Where do you think he sat? close to the chapel -of Madame de Merret. But as he took that place the first time he -went to church nobody attached any importance to the fact, though it -was remembered later. Besides, he never took his eyes off his -prayer-book, poor young man!' - -"My jovial landlady paused a moment, overcome with her recollections; -then she continued her tale: - -"'From that time on, monsieur, he used to walk up the mountain every -evening to the ruins of the castle. It was his only amusement, poor -man! and I dare say it recalled his own country; they say Spain is -all mountains. From the first he was always late at night in coming -in. I used to be uneasy at never seeing him before the stroke of -midnight; but we got accustomed to his ways and gave him a key to the -door, so that we didn't have to sit up. It so happened that one of -our grooms told us that one evening when he went to bathe his horses -he thought he saw the grandee in the distance, swimming in the river -like a fish. When he came in I told him he had better take care not -to get entangled in the sedges; he seemed annoyed that anyone had -seen him in the water. Well, monsieur, one day, or rather, one -morning, we did not find him in his room; he had not come in. He -never returned. I looked about and into everything, and at last I -found a writing in a table drawer where had put away fifty of those -Spanish gold coins called "portugaise," which bring a hundred francs -apiece; there were also diamonds worth ten thousand francs sealed up -in a little box. The paper said that in case he should not return -some day, he bequeathed to us the money and the diamonds, with a -request to found masses of thanksgiving to God for his escape and -safety. In those days my husband was living, and he did everything -he could to find the young man. But, it was the queerest thing! he -found only the Spaniard's clothes under a big stone in a sort of shed -on the banks of the river, on the castle side, just opposite to La -Grande Bretčche. My husband went so early in the morning that no one -saw him. He burned the clothes after we had read the letter, and -gave out, as Comte Férédia requested, that he had fled. The -sub-prefect sent the whole gendarmerie on his traces, but bless your -heart! they never caught him. Lepas thought the Spaniard had drowned -himself. But, monsieur, I never thought so. I think he was somehow -mixed up in Madame de Merret's trouble; and I'll tell you why. -Rosalie has told me that her mistress had a crucifix she valued so -much that she was buried with it, and it was made of ebony and -silver; now when Monsieur de Férédia first came to lodge with us he -had just such a crucifix, but I soon missed it. Now, monsieur, what -do you say? isn't it true that I need have no remorse about those -fifteen thousand francs? are not they rightfully mine?' - -"'Of course they are. But how is it you have never questioned -Rosalie?' I said. - -"'Oh, I have, monsieur; but I can get nothing out of her. That girl -is a stone wall. She knows something, but there is no making her -talk.' - -"After a few more remarks, my landlady left me, a prey to a romantic -curiosity, to vague and darkling thoughts, to a religious terror that -was something like the awe which comes upon us when we enter by night -a gloomy church and see in the distance beneath the arches a feeble -light; a formless figure glides before us, the sweep of a robe--of -priest or woman--is heard; we shudder. La Grande Bretčche, with its -tall grasses, its shuttered windows, its rusty railings, its barred -gates, its deserted rooms, rose fantastically and suddenly before me. -I tried to penetrate that mysterious dwelling and seek the knot of -this most solemn history, this drama which had killed three persons. - -"Rosalie became to my eyes the most interesting person in Vendôme. -Examining her, I discovered the traces of an ever-present inward -thought. In spite of the health which bloomed upon her dimpled face, -there was in her some element of remorse, or of hope; her attitude -bespoke a secret, like that of devotees who pray with ardour, or that -of a girl who has killed her child and forever after hears its cry. -And yet her postures were naďve, and even vulgar; her silly smile was -surely not criminal; you would have judged her innocent if only by -the large neckerchief of blue and red squares which covered her -vigorous bust, clothed, confined, and set off by a gown of purple and -white stripes. 'No,' thought I; 'I will not leave Vendôme without -knowing the history of La Grande Bretčche. I'll even make love to -Rosalie, if it is absolutely necessary.' - -"'Rosalie!' I said to her one day. - -"'What is it, monsieur?' - -"'You are not married, are you?' - -She trembled slightly. - -"'Oh! when the fancy takes me to be unhappy there'll be no lack of -men,' she said, laughing. - -"She recovered instantly from her emotion, whatever it was; for all -women, from the great lady to the chambermaid of an inn, have a -self-possession of their own. - -"'You are fresh enough and taking enough to please a lover,' I said, -watching her. 'But tell me, Rosalie, why did you take a place at an -inn after you left Madame de Merret? Didn't she leave you an -annuity?' - -"'Oh, yes, she did. But, monsieur, my place is the best in all -Vendôme.' - -"This answer was evidently what judges and lawyers call 'dilatory.' -Rosalie's position in this romantic history was like that of a square -on a checkerboard; she was at the very centre, as it were, of its -truth and its interest; she seemed to me to be tied into the knot of -it. The last chapter of the tale was in her, and, from the moment -that I realized this, Rosalie became to me an object of attraction. -By dint of studying the girl I came to find in her, as we do in every -woman whom we make a principal object of our attention, that she had -a host of good qualities. She was clean, and careful of herself, and -therefore handsome. Some two or three weeks after the notary's visit -I said to her, suddenly: 'Tell me all you know about Madame de -Merret.' - -"'Oh, no!' she replied, in a tone of terror, 'don't ask me that, -monsieur.' - -"I persisted in urging her. Her pretty face darkened, her bright -colour faded, her eyes lost their innocent, liquid light. - -"'Well!' she said, after a pause, 'if you will have it so, I will -tell you; but keep the secret.' - -"'I'll keep it with the faithfulness of a thief, which is the most -loyal to be found anywhere.' - -"'If it is the same to you, monsieur, I'd rather you kept it with -your own.' - -"Thereupon, she adjusted her neckerchief and posed herself to tell -the tale; for it is very certain that an attitude of confidence and -security is desirable in order to make a narration. The best tales -are told at special hours,--like that in which we are now at table. -No one ever told a story well, standing or fasting. - -"If I were to reproduce faithfully poor Rosalie's diffuse eloquence, -a whole volume would scarce suffice. But as the event of which she -now gave me a hazy knowledge falls into place between the facts -revealed by the garrulity of the notary, and that of Madame Lepas, as -precisely as the mean terms of an arithmetical proposition lie -between its two extremes, all I have to do is to tell it to you in -few words. I therefore give a summary of what I heard from Rosalie. - -"The chamber which Madame de Merret occupied at La Grande Bretčche -was on the ground-floor. A small closet about four feet in depth was -made in the wall, and served as a wardrobe. Three months before the -evening when the facts I am about to relate to you happened, Madame -de Merret had been so seriously unwell that her husband left her -alone in her room and slept himself in a chamber on the first floor. -By one of those mere chances which it is impossible to foresee, he -returned, on the evening in question, two hours later than usual from -the club where he went habitually to read the papers and talk -politics with the inhabitants of the town. His wife thought him at -home and in bed and asleep. But the invasion of France had been the -subject of a lively discussion; the game of billiards was a heated -one; he had lost forty francs, an enormous sum for Vendôme, where -everybody hoards his money, and where manners and customs are -restrained within modest limits worthy of all praise,--which may, -perhaps, be the source of a certain true happiness which no Parisian -cares anything at all about. - -"For some time past Monsieur de Merret had been in the habit of -asking Rosalie, when he came in, if his wife were in bed. Being -told, invariably, that she was, he at once went to his own room with -the contentment that comes of confidence and custom. This evening, -on returning home, he took it into his head to go to Madame de -Merret's room and tell her his ill-luck, perhaps to be consoled for -it. During dinner he had noticed that his wife was coquettishly -dressed; and as he came from the club the thought crossed his mind -that she was no longer ill, that her convalescence had made her -lovelier than ever,--a fact he perceived, as husbands are wont to -perceive things, too late. - -"Instead of calling Rosalie, who at that moment was in the kitchen -watching a complicated game of 'brisque,' at which the cook and the -coachman were playing, Monsieur de Merret went straight to his wife's -room by the light of his lantern, which he had placed on the first -step of the stairway. His step, which was easily recognized, -resounded under the arches of the corridor. Just as he turned the -handle of his wife's door he fancied he heard the door of the closet, -which I mentioned to you, shut; but when he entered, Madame de Merret -was alone, standing before the fireplace. The husband thought to -himself that Rosalie must be in the closet; and yet a suspicion, -which sounded in his ears like the ringing of bells, made him -distrustful. He looked at his wife, and fancied he saw something -wild and troubled in her eyes. - -"'You are late in coming home,' she said. That voice, usually so -pure and gracious, seemed to him slightly changed. - -"Monsieur de Merret made no answer, for at that moment Rosalie -entered the room. Her appearance was a thunderbolt to him. He -walked up and down the room with his arms crossed, going from one -window to another with a uniform movement. - -"'Have you heard anything to trouble you?' asked his wife, timidly, -while Rosalie was undressing her. He made no answer. - -"'You can leave the room,' said Madame de Merret to the maid. 'I -will arrange my hair myself.' - -"She guessed some misfortune at the mere sight of her husband's face, -and wished to be alone with him. - -"When Rosalie was gone, or supposed to be gone, for she went no -further than the corridor, Monsieur de Merret came to his wife and -stood before her. Then he said, coldly: - -"'Madame, there is someone in your closet.' - -"She looked at her husband with a calm air, and answered, 'No, -monsieur.' - -"That 'no' agonised Monsieur de Merret, for he did not believe it. -And yet his wife had never seemed purer nor more saintly than she did -at that moment. He rose and went toward the closet to open the door; -Madame de Merret took him by the hand and stopped him; she looked at -him with a sad air and said, in a voice that was strangely shaken: -'If you find no one, remember that all is over between us.' - -"The infinite dignity of his wife's demeanour restored her husband's -respect for her, and suddenly inspired him with one of those -resolutions which need some wider field to become immortal. - -"'No, Josephine,' he said, 'I will not look there. In either case we -should be separated forever. Listen to me: I know the purity of your -soul, I know that you lead a saintly life; you would not commit a -mortal sin to save yourself from death.' - -"At these words, Madame de Merret looked at her husband with a -haggard eye. - -"'Here is your crucifix,' he went on. 'Swear to me before God that -there is no one in that closet and I will believe you; I will not -open that door.' - -"Madame de Merret took the crucifix and said, 'I swear it.' - -"'Louder!' said her husband; 'repeat after me,--I swear before God -that there is no person in that closet.' - -"She repeated the words composedly. - -"'That is well,' said Monsieur de Merret, coldly. After a moment's -silence he added, examining the ebony crucifix inlaid with silver, -'That is a beautiful thing; I did not know you possessed it; it is -very artistically wrought.' - -"'I found it at Duvivier's,' she replied; 'he bought it of a Spanish -monk when those prisoners-of-war passed through Vendôme last year.' - -"'Ah!' said Monsieur de Merret, replacing the crucifix on the wall. -He rang the bell. Rosalie was not long in answering it. Monsieur de -Merret went quickly up to her, took her into the recess of a window -on the garden side, and said to her in a low voice:-- - -"'I am told that Gorenflot wants to marry you, and that poverty alone -prevents it, for you have told him you will not be his wife until he -is a master-mason. Is that so?' - -"'Yes, monsieur.' - -"'Well, go and find him; tell him to come here at once and bring his -trowel and other tools. Take care not to wake anyone at his house -but himself; he will soon have enough money to satisfy you. No -talking to anyone when you leave this room, mind, or--' - -"He frowned. Rosalie left the room. He called her back; 'Here, take -my pass-key,' he said. - -"Monsieur de Merret, who had kept his wife in view while giving these -orders, now sat down beside her before the fire and began to tell her -of his game of billiards, and the political discussions at the club. -When Rosalie returned she found Monsieur and Madame de Merret talking -amicably. - -"The master had lately had the ceilings of all the reception rooms on -the lower floor restored. Plaster is very scarce at Vendôme, and the -carriage of it makes it expensive. Monsieur de Merret had therefore -ordered an ample quantity for his own wants, knowing that he could -readily find buyers for what was left. This circumstance inspired -the idea that now possessed him. - -"'Monsieur, Gorenflot has come,' said Rosalie. - -"'Bring him in,' said her master. - -"Madame de Merret turned slightly pale when she saw the mason. - -"'Gorenflot,' said her husband, 'fetch some bricks from the -coach-house,--enough to wall up that door; use the plaster that was -left over to cover the wall.' - -"Then he called Rosalie and the mason to the end of the room, and, -speaking in a low voice, added, 'Listen to me, Gorenflot; after you -have done this work you will sleep in the house; and to-morrow -morning I will give you a passport into a foreign country, and six -thousand francs for the journey. Go through Paris where I will meet -you. There, I will secure to you legally another six thousand -francs, to be paid to you at the end of ten years if you still remain -out of France. For this sum, I demand absolute silence on what you -see and do this night. As for you, Rosalie, I give you a dowry of -ten thousand francs, on condition that you marry Gorenflot, and keep -silence, if not--' - -"'Rosalie,' said Madame de Merret, 'come and brush my hair.' - -"The husband walked up and down the room, watching the door, the -mason, and his wife, but without allowing the least distrust or -misgiving to appear in his manner. Gorenflot's work made some noise; -under cover of it Madame de Merret said hastily to Rosalie, while her -husband was at the farther end of the room: 'A thousand francs -annuity if you tell Gorenflot to leave a crevice at the bottom;' then -aloud she added, composedly, 'Go and help the mason.' - -"Monsieur and Madame de Merret remained silent during the whole time -it took Gorenflot to wall up the door. The silence was intentional -on the part of the husband to deprive his wife of all chance of -saying words with a double meaning which might be heard within the -closet; with Madame de Merret it was either prudence or pride. - -"When the wall was more than half up, the mason's tool broke one of -the panes of glass in the closet door; Monsieur de Merret's back was -at that moment turned away. The action proved to Madame de Merret -that Rosalie had spoken to the mason. In that one instant she saw -the dark face of a man with black hair and fiery eyes. Before her -husband turned the poor creature had time to make a sign with her -head which meant 'Hope.' - -"By four o'clock, just at dawn, for it was in the month of September, -the work was done. Monsieur de Merret remained that night in his -wife's room. The next morning, on rising, he said, carelessly: 'Ah! -I forgot, I must go to the mayor's office about that passport.' - -"He put on his hat, made three steps to the door, then checked -himself, turned back, and took the crucifix. - -"His wife trembled with joy; 'He will go to Duvivier's,' she thought. - -"The moment her husband had left the house she rang for Rosalie. -'The pick-axe!' she cried, 'the pick-axe! I watched how Gorenflot -did it; we shall have time to make a hole and close it again.' - -"In an instant Rosalie had brought a sort of cleaver, and her -mistress, with a fury no words can describe, began to demolish the -wall. She had knocked away a few bricks, and was drawing back to -strike a still more vigorous blow with all her strength, when she saw -her husband behind her. She fainted. - -"'Put madame on her bed,' said her husband, coldly. - -"Foreseeing what would happen, he had laid this trap for his wife; he -had written to the mayor, and sent for Duvivier. The jeweller -arrived just as the room had been again put in order. - -"'Duvivier,' said Monsieur de Merret, 'I think you bought some -crucifixes of those Spaniards who were here last year?' - -"'No, monsieur, I did not.' - -"'Very good; thank you,' he said, with a tigerish glance at his wife. -'Jean,' he added to the footman, 'serve my meals in Madame de -Merret's bedroom; she is very ill, and I shall not leave her till she -recovers.' - -"For twenty days that man remained beside his wife. During the first -hours, when sounds were heard behind the walled door, and Josephine -tried to implore mercy for the dying stranger, he answered, without -allowing her to utter a word:-- - -"'You swore upon the cross that no one was there.'" - -As the tale ended the women rose from table, and the spell under -which Bianchon had held them was broken. Nevertheless, several of -them were conscious of a cold chill as they recalled the last words. - - - - -VI - -THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH - -EDGAR ALLAN POE - - -The "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had -ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its -seal--the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, -and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with -dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body, and especially upon -the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the -aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, -progress, and termination of the disease were the incidents of -half-an-hour. - -But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When -his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a -thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and -dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of -one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent -structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august -taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates -of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy -hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither -of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy -from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions -the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world -could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, -or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. -There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were -ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was beauty, there was -wine. All these and security were within. Without was the "Red -Death." - -It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, -and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince -Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the -most unusual magnificence. - -It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of -the rooms in which it was held. There were seven--an imperial suite. -In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, -while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either -hand, so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here -the case was very different, as might have been expected from the -duke's love of the bizarre. The apartments were so irregularly -disposed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. -There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each -turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each -wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed -corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were -of stained glass, whose colour varied in accordance with the -prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it -opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example, in -blue--and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was -purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were -purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the casements. -The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange--the fifth with -white--the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely -shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling -and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same -material and hue. But in this chamber only the colour of the windows -failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were -scarlet--a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments -was there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the profusion of golden -ornaments that lay scattered to and fro, or depended from the roof. -There was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within -the suite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, -there stood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a -brazier of fire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass, -and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were produced a -multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in the western or -black chamber the effect of the firelight that streamed upon the dark -hangings through the blood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, -and produced so wild a look upon the countenances of those who -entered, that there were few of the company bold enough to set foot -within its precincts at all. - -It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western -wall a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a -dull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when the minute-hand made the -circuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from -the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and -deep and exceedingly musical; but of so peculiar a note and emphasis -that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were -constrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to hearken -to the sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; -and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while -the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest -grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their -brows as if in confused reverie or meditation. But when the echoes -had fully ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the -musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at their own -nervousness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, -that the next chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar -emotion; and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes (which embrace -three thousand and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies), there -came yet another chiming of the clock, and then were the same -disconcert and tremulousness and meditation as before. - -But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. -The tastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours -and effects. He disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans -were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. -There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt -that he was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to -be sure that he was not. - -He had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the -seven chambers, upon occasion of this great fęte; and it was his own -guiding taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure -they were grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy -and phantasm--much of what has been since seen in "Hernani." There -were arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There -were delirious fancies as the madman fashions. There were much of -the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of -the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited -disgust. To and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a -multitude of dreams. And these--the dreams--writhed in and about, -taking hue from the rooms, and causing the wild music of the -orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps. And, anon, there -strikes the ebony clock which stands in the hall of the velvet. And -then, for a moment, all is still, and all is silent save the voice of -the clock. The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the -echoes of the chime die away--they have endured but an instant--and a -light, half-subdued laughter floats after them as they depart. And -now again the music swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to and -fro more merrily than ever, taking hue from the many tinted windows -through which stream the rays from the tripods. But to the chamber -which lies most westwardly of the seven, there are now none of the -maskers who venture; for the night is waning away; and there flows a -ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes; and the blackness of -the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable -carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more -solemnly emphatic than any which reaches their ears who indulge in -the more remote gaieties of the other apartments. - -But these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat -feverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, -until at length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the -clock. And then the music ceased, as I have told; and the evolutions -of the waltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of -all things as before. But now there were twelve strokes to be -sounded by the bell of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that -more of thought crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the -thoughtful among those who revelled. And thus, too, it happened, -perhaps, that before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly -sunk into silence, there were many individuals in the crowd who had -found leisure to become aware of the presence of a masked figure -which had arrested the attention of no single individual before. And -the rumour of this new presence having spread itself whisperingly -around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz, or -murmur, expressive of disapprobation and surprise--then, finally, of -terror, of horror, and of disgust. - -In an assembly of phantasms, such as I have painted, it may well be -supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such -sensation. In truth the masquerade license of the night was nearly -unlimited; but the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone -beyond the bounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are -chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched -without emotion. Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death -are equally jests, there are matters of which no jests can be made. -The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the -costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor propriety -existed. The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to -foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the -visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened -corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in -detecting the cheat. And yet all this might have been endured, if -not approved, by the mad revellers around. But the mummer had gone -so far as to assume the type of the Red Death. His vesture was -dabbled in _blood_--and his broad brow, with all the features of the -face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror. - -When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which -with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its -_rôle_, stalked to and from among the waltzers), he was seen to be -convulsed, in the first moment, with a strong shudder either of -terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage. - -"Who dares?" he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near -him--"who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him -and unmask him--that we may know whom we have to hang at sunrise from -the battlements!" - -It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince -Prospero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven -rooms loudly and clearly--for the prince was a bold and robust man, -and the music had become hushed at the waving of his hand. - -It was in the blue room where stood the prince with a group of pale -courtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight -rushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who, -at the moment, was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and -stately step, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a -certain nameless awe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had -inspired the whole party, there were found none who put forth hand to -seize him; so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the -prince's person; and while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, -shrank from the centres of the rooms to the walls, he made his way -uninterruptedly, but with the same solemn and measured step which had -distinguished him from the first, through the blue chamber to the -purple--through the purple to the green--through the green to the -orange--through this again to the white--and even thence to the -violet, ere a decided movement had been made to arrest him. It was -then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddened with rage and the -shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the -six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror -that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had -approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the -retreating figure, when the latter, having attained the extremity of -the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted his pursuer. -There was a sharp cry--and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable -carpet, upon which, instantly afterward, fell prostrate in death the -Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a -throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the black -apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and -motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in -unutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like -mask which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any -tangible form. - -And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come -like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in -the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the -despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went -out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods -expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable -dominion over all. - - - - -VII - -DR. MANETTE'S MANUSCRIPT - -CHARLES DICKENS - - -"I, Alexandre Manette, unfortunate physician, native of Beauvais, and -afterward resident in Paris, write this melancholy paper in my -doleful cell in the Bastille, during the last month of the year, -1767. I write it at stolen intervals, under every difficulty. I -design to secrete it in the wall of the chimney, where I have slowly -and laboriously made a place of concealment for it. Some pitying -hand may find it there, when I and my sorrows are dust. - -"These words are formed by the rusty iron point with which I write -with difficulty in scrapings of soot and charcoal from the chimney, -mixed with blood, in the last month of the tenth year of my -captivity. Hope has quite departed from my breast. I know from -terrible warnings I have noted in myself that my reason will not long -remain unimpaired, but I solemnly declare that I am at this time in -the possession of my right mind--that my memory is exact and -circumstantial--and that I write the truth as I shall answer for -these my last recorded words, whether they be ever read by men or -not, at the Eternal Judgment-seat. - -"One cloudy moonlight night, in the third week of December (I think -the twenty-second of the month) in the year 1757, I was walking on a -retired part of the quay by the Seine for the refreshment of the -frosty air, at an hour's distance from my place of residence in the -Street of the School of Medicine, when a carriage came along behind -me, driven very fast. As I stood aside to let that carriage pass, -apprehensive that it might otherwise run me down, a head was put out -at the window, and a voice called to the driver to stop. - -"The carriage stopped as soon as the driver could rein in his horses, -and the same voice called to me by my name. I answered. The -carriage was then so far in advance of me that two gentlemen had time -to open the door and alight before I came up with it. I observed -that they were both wrapped in cloaks, and appeared to conceal -themselves. As they stood side by side near the carriage door, I -also observed that they both looked of about my own age, or rather -younger, and that they were greatly alike, in stature, manner, voice, -and (as far as I could see) Łace too. - -"'You are Doctor Manette?' said one. - -"'I am.' - -"'Doctor Manette, formerly of Beauvais,' said the other; 'the young -physician, originally an expert surgeon, who within the last year or -two has made a rising reputation in Paris?' - -"'Gentlemen,' I returned, 'I am that Doctor Manette of whom you speak -so graciously.' - -"'We have been to your residence,' said the first, 'and not being so -fortunate as to find you there, and being informed that you were -probably walking in this direction, we followed, in the hope of -overtaking you. Will you please to enter the carriage?' - -"The manner of both was imperious, and they both moved, as these -words were spoken, so as to place me between themselves and the -carriage door. They were armed. I was not. - -"'Gentlemen,' said I, 'pardon me; but I usually inquire who does me -the honour to seek my assistance, and what is the nature of the case -to which I am summoned.' - -"The reply to this was made by him who had spoken second. 'Doctor, -your clients are people of condition. As to the nature of the case, -our confidence in your skill assures us that you will ascertain it -for yourself better than we can describe it. Enough. Will you -please to enter the carriage?' - -"I could do nothing but comply, and I entered it in silence. They -both entered after me--the last springing in, after putting up the -steps. The carriage turned about, and drove on at its former speed. - -"I repeat this conversation exactly as it occurred. I have no doubt -that it is, word for word, the same. I describe everything exactly -as it took place, constraining my mind not to wander from the task. -Where I make the broken marks that follow here, I leave off for the -time, and put my paper in its hiding-place. * * * * - -"The carriage left the streets behind, passed the North Barrier, and -emerged upon the country road. At two-thirds of a league from the -Barrier--I did not estimate the distance at that time, but afterward -when I traversed it--it struck out of the main avenue, and presently -stopped at a solitary house. We all three alighted, and walked, by a -damp soft footpath in a garden where a neglected fountain had -overflowed, to the door of the house. It was not opened immediately, -in answer to the ringing of the bell, and one of my two conductors -struck the man who opened it, with his heavy riding glove, across the -face. - -"There was nothing in this action to attract my particular attention, -for I had seen common people struck more commonly than dogs. But, -the other of the two, being angry likewise, struck the man in like -manner with his arm; the look and bearing of the brothers were then -so exactly alike, that I then first perceived them to be twin -brothers. - -"From the time of our alighting at the outer gate (which we found -locked, and which one of the brothers had opened to admit us, and had -relocked), I had heard cries proceeding from an upper chamber. I was -conducted to this chamber straight, the cries growing louder as we -ascended the stairs, and I found a patient in a high fever of the -brain, lying on a bed. - -"The patient was a woman of great beauty, and young; assuredly not -much past twenty. Her hair was torn and ragged, and her arms were -bound to her sides with sashes and handkerchiefs. I noticed that -these bonds were all portions of a gentleman's dress. On one of -them, which was a fringed scarf for a dress of ceremony, I saw the -armorial bearings of a Noble, and the letter E. - -"I saw this, within the first minute of my contemplation of the -patient; for, in her restless strivings she had turned over on her -face on the edge of the bed, had drawn the end of the scarf into her -mouth, and was in danger of suffocation. My first act was to put out -my hand to relieve her breathing; and in moving the scarf aside, the -embroidery in the corner caught my sight. - -"I turned her gently over, placed my hands upon her breast to calm -her and keep her down, and looked into her face. Her eyes were -dilated and wild, and she constantly uttered piercing shrieks, and -repeated the words, 'My husband, my father, and my brother!' and then -counted up to twelve, and said, 'Hush!' For an instant, and no more, -she would pause to listen, and then the piercing shrieks would begin -again, and she would repeat the cry, 'My husband, my father, and my -brother!' and would count up to twelve, and say, 'Hush!' There was -no variation in the order, or the manner. There was no cessation, -but the regular moment's pause in the utterance of these sounds. - -"'How long,' I asked, 'has this lasted?' - -"To distinguish the brothers, I will call them the elder and the -younger; by the elder, I mean him who exercised the most authority. -It was the elder who replied, 'Since about this hour last night.' - -"'She has a husband, a father, and a brother?' - -"'A brother.' - -"'I do not address her brother?' - -"He answered with great contempt, 'No.' - -"'She has some recent association with the number twelve?' - -"The younger brother impatiently rejoined, 'With twelve o'clock.' - -"'See, gentlemen,' said I, still keeping my hands upon her breast, -'how useless I am, as you have brought me! If I had known what I was -coming to see, I could have come provided. As it is, time must be -lost. There are no medicines to be obtained in this lonely place.' - -"The elder brother looked to the younger, who said haughtily, 'There -is a case of medicines here;' and brought it from a closet, and put -it on the table. * * * * - -"I opened some of the bottles, smelt them, and put the stoppers to my -lips. If I had wanted to use anything save narcotic medicines that -were poisons in themselves, I would not have administered any of -those. - -"'Do you doubt them?' asked the younger brother. - -"'You see, monsieur, I am going to use them,' I replied, and said no -more. - -"I made the patient swallow, with great difficulty, and after many -efforts, the dose that I desired to give. As I intended to repeat it -after a while, and as it was necessary to watch its influence, I then -sat down by the side of the bed. There was a timid and suppressed -woman in attendance (wife of the man downstairs), who had retreated -into a corner. The house was damp and decayed, indifferently -furnished--evidently, recently occupied and temporarily used. Some -thick old hangings had been nailed up before the windows, to deaden -the sound of the shrieks. They continued to be uttered in their -regular succession, with the cry, 'My husband, my father, and my -brother!' the counting up to twelve, and 'Hush!' The frenzy was so -violent, that I had not unfastened the bandages restraining the arms; -but, I had looked to them, to see that they were not painful. The -only spark of encouragement in the case, was, that my hand upon the -sufferer's breast had this much soothing influence, that for minutes -at a time it tranquillised the figure. It had no effect upon the -cries; no pendulum could be more regular. - -"For the reason that my hand had this effect (I assume), I had sat by -the side of the bed for half an hour, with the two brothers looking -on, before the elder said: - -"'There is another patient.' - -"I was startled, and asked, 'Is it a pressing case?' - -"'You had better see,' he carelessly answered; and took up a light. * -* * * - -"The other patient lay in a back room across a second staircase, -which was a species of loft over a stable. There was a low plastered -ceiling to a part of it; the rest was open, to the ridge of the tiled -roof, and there were beams across. Hay and straw were stored in that -portion of the place, fagots for firing, and a heap of apples in -sand. I had to pass through that part to get at the other. My -memory is circumstantial and unshaken. I try it with these details, -and I see them all, in this my cell in the Bastille, near the close -of the tenth year of my captivity, as I saw them all that night. - -"On some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown under his head, lay -a handsome peasant boy--a boy of not more than seventeen at the most. -He lay on his back, with his teeth set, his right hand clenched on -his breast, and his glaring eyes looking straight upward. I could -not see where his wound was, as I kneeled on one knee over him; but, -I could see that he was dying of a wound from a sharp point. - -"'I am a doctor, my poor fellow,' said I. 'Let me examine it.' - -'"I do not want it examined,' he answered; 'let it be.' - -"It was under his hand, and I soothed him to let me move his hand -away. The wound was a sword-thrust, received from twenty to -twenty-four hours before, but no skill could have saved him if it had -been looked to without delay. He was then dying fast. As I turned -my eyes to the elder brother, I saw him looking down at this handsome -boy whose life was ebbing out, as if he were a wounded bird, or hare, -or rabbit; not at all as if he were a fellow-creature. - -"'How has this been done, monsieur?' said I. - -"'A crazed young common dog! A serf! Forced my brother to draw upon -him, and has fallen by my brother's sword--like a gentleman.' - -"There was no touch of pity, sorrow, or kindred humanity in this -answer. The speaker seemed to acknowledge that it was inconvenient -to have that different order of creature dying there, and that it -would have been better if he had died in the usual obscure routine of -his vermin kind. He was quite incapable of any compassionate feeling -about the boy, or about his fate. - -"The boy's eyes had slowly moved to him as he had spoken, and they -now slowly moved to me. - -"'Doctor, they are very proud, these Nobles; but we common dogs are -proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; -but we have a little pride left, sometimes. She--have you seen her, -Doctor?' - -"The shrieks and the cries were audible there, though subdued by the -distance. He referred to them, as if she were lying in our presence. - -"I said, 'I have seen her.' - -"'She is my sister, Doctor. They have had their shameful rights, -these Nobles, in the modesty and virtue of our sisters, many years, -but we have had good girls among us. I know it, and have heard my -father say so. She was a good girl. She was betrothed to a good -young man, too: a tenant of his. We were all tenants of his--that -man's who stands there. The other is his brother, the worst of a bad -race.' - -"It was with the greatest difficulty that the boy gathered bodily -force to speak; but, his spirit spoke with a dreadful emphasis. - -"'We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common -dogs are by those superior Beings--taxed by him without mercy, -obliged to work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his -mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, -and forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, -pillaged and plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a -bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door barred and the shutters -closed, that his people should not see it and take it from us--I say, -we were so robbed, and hunted, and were made so poor, that our father -told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and -that what we should most pray for was, that our women might be barren -and our miserable race die out!' - -"I had never before seen the sense of being oppressed bursting forth -like a fire. I had supposed that it must be latent in the people -somewhere; but, I had never seen it break out, until I saw it in the -dying boy. - -"'Nevertheless, Doctor, my sister married. He was ailing at that -time, poor fellow, and she married her lover, that she might tend and -comfort him in our cottage--our dog-hut, as that man would call it. -She had not been married many weeks, when that man's brother saw her -and admired her, and asked that man to lend her to him--for what are -husbands among us! He was willing enough, but my sister was good and -virtuous, and hated his brother with a hatred as strong as mine. -What did the two then, to persuade her husband to use his influence -with her, to make her willing?' - -"The boy's eyes, which had been fixed on mine, slowly turned to the -looker-on, and I saw in the two faces that all he said was true. The -two opposing kinds of pride confronting one another, I can see, even -in this Bastille; the gentleman's, all negligent indifference; the -peasant's, all trodden-down sentiment, and passionate revenge. - -"'You know, Doctor, that it is among the Rights of these Nobles to -harness us common dogs to carts, and drive us. They so harnessed him -and drove him. You know that it is among their Rights to keep us in -their grounds all night, quieting the frogs, in order that their -noble sleep may not be disturbed. They kept him out in the -unwholesome mists at night and ordered him back into his harness in -the day. But he was not persuaded. No! Taken out of harness one -day at noon, to feed--if he could find food--he sobbed twelve times, -once for every stroke of the bell, and died on her bosom.' - -"Nothing human could have held life in the boy but his determination -to tell all his wrong. He forced back the gathering shadows of -death, as he forced his clenched right hand to remain clenched, and -to cover his wound. - -"'Then, with that man's permission and even with his aid, his brother -took her away; in spite of what I know she must have told his -brother--and what that is, will not be long unknown to you, Doctor, -if it is now--his brother took her away--for his pleasure and -diversion, for a little while. I saw her pass me on the road. When -I took the tidings home, our father's heart burst; he never spoke one -of the words that filled it. I took my young sister (for I have -another) to a place beyond the reach of this man, and where, at -least, she will never be his vassal. Then, I tracked the brother -here, and last night climbed in--a common dog, but sword in hand.-- -Where is the loft window? It was somewhere here?' - -"The room was darkening to his sight; the world was narrowing around -him. I glanced about me, and saw that the hay and straw were -trampled over the floor, as if there had been a struggle. - -"'She heard me, and ran in. I told her not to come near us till he -was dead. He came in and first tossed me some pieces of money; then -struck at me with a whip. But I, though a common dog, so struck at -him as to make him draw. Let him break into as many pieces as he -will, the sword that he stained with my common blood; he drew to -defend himself--thrust at me with all his skill for his life.' - -"My glance had fallen, but a few moments before, on the fragments of -a broken sword, lying among the hay. That weapon was a gentleman's. -In another place, lay an old sword that seemed to have been a -soldier's. - -"'Now, lift me up, Doctor; lift me up. Where is he?' - -"'He is not here,' I said, supporting the boy, and thinking that he -referred to the brother. - -"'He! Proud as these nobles are, he is afraid to see me. Where is -the man who was here? Turn my face to him.' - -"I did so, raising the boy's head against my knee. But, invested for -the moment with extraordinary power, he raised himself completely: -obliging me to rise too, or I could not have still supported him. - -"'Marquis,' said the boy, turned to him with his eyes opened wide, -and his right hand raised, 'in the days when all these things are to -be answered for, I summon you and yours, to the last of your bad -race, to answer for them. I mark this cross of blood upon you, as a -sign that I do it. In the days when all these things are to be -answered for, I summon your brother, the worst of the bad race, to -answer for them separately. I mark this cross of blood upon him, as -a sign that I do it.' - -"Twice, he put his hand to the wound in his breast, and with his -forefinger drew a cross in the air. He stood for an instant with the -finger yet raised, and as it dropped, he dropped with it, and I laid -him down dead. * * * * - -"When I returned to the bedside of the young woman, I found her -raving in precisely the same order of continuity. I knew that this -might last for many hours, and that it would probably end in the -silence of the grave. - -"I repeated the medicines I had given her, and I sat at the side of -the bed until the night was far advanced. She never abated the -piercing quality of her shrieks, never stumbled in the distinctness -or order of her words. They were always 'My husband, my father, and -my brother! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, -ten, eleven, twelve. Hush!' - -"This lasted twenty-six hours from the time when I first saw her. I -had come and gone twice, and was again sitting by her, when she began -to falter. I did what little could be done to assist that -opportunity, and by-and-bye she sank into a lethargy, and lay like -the dead. - -"It was as if the wind and rain had lulled at last, after a long and -fearful storm. I released her arms, and called the woman to assist -me to compose her figure and the dress she had torn. It was then -that I knew her condition to be that of one in whom the first -expectations of being a mother have arisen; and it was then that I -lost the little hope I had had of her. - -"'Is she dead?' asked the Marquis, whom I will still describe as the -elder brother, coming booted into the room from his horse. - -"'Not dead,' said I; 'but like to die.' - -"'What strength there is in these common bodies!' he said, looking -down at her with some curiosity. - -"'There is prodigious strength,' I answered him, 'in sorrow and -despair.' - -"He first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them. He moved a -chair with his foot near to mine, ordered the woman away, and said in -a subdued voice, - -"'Doctor, finding my brother in this difficulty with these hinds, I -recommend that your aid should be invited. Your reputation is high, -and, as a young man with your fortune to make, you are probably -mindful of your interest. The things that you see here are things to -be seen, and not spoken of.' - -"I listened to the patient's breathing, and avoided answering. - -"'Do you honour me with your attention, Doctor?' - -"'Monsieur,' said I, 'in my profession, the communications of -patients are always received in confidence.' I was guarded in my -answer, for I was troubled in my mind with what I had heard and seen. - -"Her breathing was so difficult to trace, that I carefully tried the -pulse and the heart. There was life, and no more. Looking round as -I resumed my seat, I found both the brothers intent upon me. * * * * - -"I write with so much difficulty, the cold is so severe, I am so -fearful of being detected and consigned to an underground cell and -total darkness, that I must abridge this narrative. There is no -confusion or failure in my memory; I can recall, and could detail, -every word that was ever spoken between me and those brothers. - -"She lingered for a week. Toward the last, I could understand some -few syllables that she said to me, by placing my ear close to her -lips. She asked me where she was, and I told her; who I was, and I -told her. It was in vain that I asked her for her family name. She -faintly shook her head upon the pillow and kept her secret, as the -boy had done. - -"I had no opportunity of asking her any question, until I had told -the brothers she was sinking fast, and could not live another day. -Until then, though no one was ever presented to her consciousness -save the woman and myself, one or the other of them had always -jealously sat behind the curtain at the head of the bed when I was -there. But when it came to that, they seemed careless what -communication I might hold with her; as if--the thought passed -through my mind--I were dying too. - -"I always observed that their pride bitterly resented the younger -brother's (as I call him) having crossed swords with a peasant, and -that peasant a boy. The only consideration that appeared to affect -the mind of either of them was the consideration that this was highly -degrading to the family, and was ridiculous. As often as I caught -the younger brother's eyes, their expression reminded me that he -disliked me deeply, for knowing what I knew from the boy. He was -smoother and more polite to me than the elder; but I saw this. I -also saw that I was an incumbrance in the mind of the elder, too. - -"My patient died, two hours before midnight--at a time, by my watch, -answering almost to the minute when I had first seen her. I was -alone with her, when her forlorn young head drooped gently on one -side, and all her earthly wrongs and sorrows ended. - -"The brothers were waiting in a room downstairs, impatient to ride -away. I had heard them, alone at the bedside, striking their boots -with their riding-whips, and loitering up and down. - -"'At last she is dead?' said the elder, when I went in. - -"'She is dead,' said I. - -"'I congratulate you, my brother,' were his words as he turned round. - -"He had before offered me money, which I had postponed taking. He -now gave me a rouleau of gold. I took it from his hand, but laid it -on the table. I had considered the question, and had resolved to -accept nothing. - -"'Pray excuse me,' said I. 'Under the circumstances, no.' - -"They exchanged looks, but bent their heads to me as I bent mine to -them, and we parted without another word on either side. * * * * - -"I am weary, weary, weary--worn down by misery. I cannot read what I -have written with this gaunt hand. - -"Early in the morning, the rouleau of gold was left at my door in a -little box, with my name on the outside. From the first, I had -anxiously considered what I ought to do. I decided, that day, to -write privately to the Minister, stating the nature of the two cases -to which I had been summoned, and the place to which I had gone: in -effect, stating all the circumstances. I knew what Court influence -was, and what the immunities of the Nobles were, and I expected that -the matter would never be heard of; but, I wished to relieve my own -mind. I had kept the matter a profound secret, even from my wife; -and this, too, I resolved to state in my letter. I had no -apprehension whatever of my real danger; but I was conscious that -there might be danger for others, if others were compromised by -possessing the knowledge that I possessed. - -"I was much engaged that day, and could not complete my letter that -night. I rose long before my usual time next morning to finish it. -It was the last day of the year. The letter was lying before me just -completed, when I was told that a lady waited, who wished to see me. -* * * * - -"I am growing more and more unequal to the task I have set myself. -It is so cold, so dark, my senses are so benumbed, and the gloom upon -me is so dreadful. - -"The lady was young, engaging, and handsome, but not marked for long -life. She was in great agitation. She presented herself to me as -the wife of the Marquis St. Evrémonde. I connected the title by -which the boy had addressed the elder brother, with the initial -letter embroidered on the scarf, and had no difficulty in arriving at -the conclusion that I had seen that nobleman very lately. - -"My memory is still accurate, but I cannot write the words of our -conversation. I suspect that I am watched more closely than I was, -and I know not at what times I may be watched. She had in part -suspected, and in part discovered, the main facts of the cruel story, -of her husband's share in it, and my being resorted to. She did not -know that the girl was dead. Her hope had been, she said in great -distress, to show her, in secret, a woman's sympathy. Her hope had -been to avert the wrath of Heaven from a House that had long been -hateful to the suffering many. - -"She had reasons for believing that there was a young sister living, -and her greatest desire was, to help that sister. I could tell her -nothing but that there was such a sister; beyond that, I knew -nothing. Her inducement to come to me, relying on my confidence, had -been the hope that I could tell her the name and place of abode. -Whereas, to this wretched hour I am ignorant of both. * * * * - -"These scraps of paper fail me. One was taken from me, with a -warning, yesterday. I must finish my record to-day. - -"She was a good, compassionate lady, and not happy in her marriage. -How could she be! The brother distrusted and disliked her, and his -influence was all opposed to her; she stood in dread of him, and in -dread of her husband too. When I handed her down to the door, there -was a child, a pretty boy from two to three years old, in her -carriage. - -"'For his sake, Doctor,' she said, pointing to him in tears, 'I would -do all I can to make what poor amends I can. He will never prosper -in his inheritance otherwise. I have a presentiment that if no other -innocent atonement is made for this, it will one day be required of -him. What I have left to call my own--it is little beyond the worth -of a few jewels--I will make it the first charge of his life to -bestow, with the compassion and lamentation of his dead mother, on -this injured family, if the sister can be discovered.' - -"She kissed the boy, and said, caressing him, 'It is for thine own -dear sake. Thou wilt be faithful, little Charles?' The child -answered her bravely, 'Yes!' I kissed her hand, and she took him in -her arms, and went away caressing him. I never saw her more. - -"As she had mentioned her husband's name in the faith that I knew it, -I added no mention of it to my letter. I sealed my letter, and, not -trusting it out of my own hands, delivered it myself that day. - -"That night, the last night of the year, toward nine o'clock, a man -in a black dress rang at my gate, demanded to see me, and softly -followed my servant, Ernest Defarge, a youth, up-stairs. When my -servant came into the room where I sat with my wife--O my wife, -beloved of my heart! My fair young English wife!--we saw the man, -who was supposed to be at the gate, standing silent behind him. - -"An urgent case in the Rue St. Honoré, he said. It would not detain -me, he had a coach in waiting. - -"It brought me here, it brought me to my grave. When I was clear of -the house, a black muffler was drawn tightly over my mouth from -behind, and my arms were pinioned. The two brothers crossed the road -from a dark corner, and identified me with a single gesture. The -Marquis took from his pocket the letter I had written, showed it me, -burnt it in the light of a lantern that was held, and extinguished -the ashes with his foot. Not a word was spoken. I was brought here, -I was brought to my living grave. - -"If it had pleased God to put it in the hard heart of either of the -brothers, in all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my -dearest wife--so much as to let me know by a word whether alive or -dead--I might have thought that He had not quite abandoned them. -But, now I believe that the mark of the red cross is fatal to them, -and that they have no part in His mercies. And them and their -descendants, to the last of their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy -prisoner, do this last night of the year 1767, in my unbearable -agony, denounce to the times when all these things shall be answered -for. I denounce them to Heaven and to earth." - - - - -VIII - -SILENCE* - -LEONIDAS ANDREIYEFF - -*Reprinted by permission of Nicholas L. Brown, Publisher. - - -I - -One moonlight night in May, while the nightingales sang, Father -Ignatius' wife entered his chamber. Her countenance expressed -suffering, and the little lamp she held in her hand trembled. -Approaching her husband, she touched his shoulder, and managed to say -between her sobs: - -"Father, let us go to Verochka." - -Without turning his head, Father Ignatius glanced severely at his -wife over the rims of his spectacles, and looked long and intently, -till she waved her unoccupied hand and dropped on a low divan. - -"That one toward the other be so pitiless!" she pronounced slowly, -with emphasis on the final syllables, and her good plump face was -distorted with a grimace of pain and exasperation, as if in this -manner she wished to express what stern people they were--her husband -and daughter. - -Father Ignatius smiled and arose. Closing his book, he removed his -spectacles, placed them in the case, and meditated. His long, black -beard, inwoven with silver threads, lay dignified on his breast, and -it slowly heaved at every deep breath. - -"Well, let us go!" said he. - -Olga Stepanovna quickly arose and entreated in an appealing, timid -voice: - -"Only don't revile her, father! You know the sort she is." - -Vera's chamber was in the attic, and the narrow, wooden stair bent -and creaked under the heavy tread of Father Ignatius. Tall and -ponderous, he lowered his head to avoid striking the floor of the -upper story, and frowned disdainfully when the white jacket of his -wife brushed his face. Well he knew that nothing would come of their -talk with Vera. - -"Why do you come?" asked Vera, raising a bared arm to her eyes. The -other arm lay on top of a white summer blanket hardly distinguishable -from the fabric, so white, translucent, and cold was its aspect. - -"Verochka!" began her mother, but sobbing, she grew silent. - -"Vera!" said her father, making an effort to soften his dry and hard -voice. "Vera, tell us, what troubles you?" - -Vera was silent. - -"Vera, do not we, your mother and I, deserve your confidence? Do we -not love you? And is there someone nearer to you than we? Tell us -about your sorrow, and, believe me, you'll feel better for it. And -we too. Look at your aged mother, how much she suffers!" - -"Verochka!" - -"And I..." The dry voice trembled, truly something had broken in it. -"And I ... do you think I find it easy? As if I did not see that -some sorrow is gnawing at you--and what is it? And I, your father, -do not know what it is. Is it right that it should be so?" - -Vera was silent. Father Ignatius very cautiously stroked his beard, -as if afraid that his fingers would enmesh themselves involuntarily -in it, and continued: - -"Against my wish you went to St. Petersburg--did I pronounce a curse -upon you, you who disobeyed me? Or did I not give you money? Or, -you'll say, I have not been kind? Well, why then are you silent? -There, you've had your St. Petersburg!" - -Father Ignatius became silent, and an image arose before him of -something huge, of granite, and terrible, full of invisible dangers -and strange and indifferent people. And there, alone and weak, was -his Vera and there they had lost her. An awful hatred against that -terrible and mysterious city grew in the soul of Father Ignatius, and -an anger against his daughter who was silent, obstinately silent. - -"St. Petersburg has nothing to do with it," said Vera, morosely, and -closed her eyes. "And nothing is the matter with me. Better go to -bed, it is late." - -"Verochka," whimpered her mother. "Little daughter, do confess to -me." - -"Akh, mamma!" impatiently Vera interrupted her. - -Father Ignatius sat down on a chair and laughed. - -"Well, then it's nothing?" he inquired, ironically. - -"Father," sharply put in Vera, raising herself from the pillow, "you -know that I love you and mother. Well, I do feel a little weary. -But that will pass. Do go to sleep, and I also wish to sleep. And -to-morrow, or some other time, we'll have a chat." - -Father Ignatius impetuously arose so that the chair hit the wall, and -took his wife's hand. - -"Let us go." - -"Verochka!" - -"Let us go, I tell you!" shouted Father Ignatius. "If she has -forgotten God, shall we..." - -Almost forcibly he led Olga Stepanovna out of the room, and when they -descended the stairs, his wife, decreasing her gait, said in a harsh -whisper: - -"It was you, priest, who have made her such. From you she learnt her -ways. And you'll answer for it. Akh, unhappy creature that I am!" - -And she wept, and, as her eyes filled with tears, her foot, missing a -step, would descend with a sudden jolt, as if she were eager to fall -into some existent abyss below. - -From that day Father Ignatus ceased to speak with his daughter, but -she seemed not to notice it. As before she lay in her room, or -walked about, continually wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands -as if they contained some irritating foreign substance. And crushed -between these two silent people, the jolly, fun-loving wife of the -priest quailed and seemed lost, not knowing what to say or do. - -Occasionally Vera took a stroll. A week following the interview she -went out in the evening, as was her habit. She was not seen alive -again, as on this evening she threw herself under the train, which -cut her in two. - -Father Ignatius himself directed the funeral. His wife was not -present in church, as at the news of Vera's death she was prostrated -by a stroke. She lost control of her feet, hands, and tongue, and -she lay motionless in the semi-darkened room when the church bells -rang out. She heard the people, as they issued out of church and -passed the house, intone the chants, and she made an effort to raise -her hand, and to make a sign of the cross, but her hand refused to -obey; she wished to say: "Farewell, Vera!" but the tongue lay in her -mouth huge and heavy. And her attitude was so calm, that it gave one -an impression of restfulness or sleep. Only her eyes remained open. - -At the funeral, in church, were many people who knew Father Ignatius, -and many strangers, and all bewailed Vera's terrible death, and tried -to find in the movements and voice of Father Ignatius tokens of a -deep sorrow. They did not love Father Ignatius because of his -severity and proud manners, his scorn of sinners, for his unforgiving -spirit, his envy and covetousness, his habit of utilising every -opportunity to extort money from his parishioners. They all wished -to see him suffer, to see his spirit broken, to see him conscious in -his two-fold guilt for the death of his daughter--as a cruel father -and a bad priest--incapable of preserving his own flesh from sin. -They cast searching glances at him, and he, feeling these glances -directed toward his back, made efforts to hold erect its broad and -strong expanse, and his thoughts were not concerning his dead -daughter, but concerning his own dignity. - -"A hardened priest!" said, with a shake of his head, Karzenoff, a -carpenter, to whom Father Ignatius owed five roubles for frames. - -And thus, hard and erect, Father Ignatius reached the burial ground, -and in the same manner he returned. Only at the door of his wife's -chamber did his spine relax a little, but this may have been due to -the fact that the height of the door was inadequate to admit his tall -figure. The change from broad daylight made it difficult for him to -distinguish the face of his wife, but, after scrutiny, he was -astonished at its calmness and because the eyes showed no tears. And -there was neither anger, nor sorrow in the eyes--they were dumb, and -they kept silent with difficulty, reluctantly, as did the entire -plump and helpless body, pressing against the feather bedding. - -"Well, how do you feel?" inquired Father Ignatius. - -The lips, however, were dumb; the eyes also were silent. Father -Ignatius laid his hand on her forehead; it was cold and moist, and -Olga Stepanovna did not show in any way that she had felt the hand's -contact. When Father Ignatius removed his hand there gazed at him, -immobile, two deep grey eyes, seeming almost entirely dark from the -dilated pupils, and there was neither sadness in them, nor anger. - -"I am going into my own room," said Father Ignatius, who began to -feel cold and terror. - -He passed through the drawing-room, where everything appeared neat -and in order, as usual, and where, attired in white covers, stood -tall chairs, like corpses in their shrouds. Over one window hung an -empty wire cage, with the door open. - -"Nastasya!" shouted Father Ignatius, and his voice seemed to him -coarse, and he felt ill at ease because he raised his voice so high -in these silent rooms, so soon after his daughter's funeral. -"Nastasya!" he called out in a lower tone of voice, "where is the -canary?" - -"She flew away, to be sure." - -"Why did you let it out?" - -Nastasya began to weep, and wiping her face with the edges of her -calico headkerchief, said through her tears: - -"It was my young mistress's soul. Was it right to hold it?" - -And it seemed to Father Ignatius that the yellow, happy little -canary, always singing with inclined head, was really the soul of -Vera, and if it had not flown away it wouldn't have been possible to -say that Vera had died. He became even more incensed at the -maid-servant, and shouted: - -"Off with you!" - -And when Nastasya did not find the door at once he added: - -"Fool!" - - - -II - -From the day of the funeral silence reigned in the little house. It -was not stillness, for stillness is merely the absence of sounds; it -was silence, because it seemed that they who were silent could say -something but would not. So thought Father Ignatius each time he -entered his wife's chamber and met that obstinate gaze, so heavy in -its aspect that it seemed to transform the very air into lead, which -bore down one's head and spine. So thought he, examining his -daughter's music sheets, which bore imprints of her voice, as well as -her books and her portrait, which she brought with her from St. -Petersburg. Father Ignatius was accustomed to scrutinise the -portrait in established order: First, he would gaze on the cheek upon -which a strong light was thrown by the painter; in his fancy he would -see upon it a slight wound, which he had noticed on Vera's cheek in -death, and the source of which he could not understand. Each time he -would meditate upon causes; he reasoned that if it was made by the -train the entire head would have been crushed, whereas the head of -Vera remained wholly untouched. It was possible that someone did it -with his foot when the corpse was removed, or accidentally with a -finger nail. - -To contemplate at length upon the details of Vera's death taxed the -strength of Father Ignatius, so that he would pass on to the eyes. -These were dark, handsome, with long lashes, which cast deep shadows -beneath, causing the whites to seem particularly luminous, both eyes -appearing to be inclosed in black, mourning frames. A strange -expression was given them by the unknown but talented artist; it -seemed as if in the space between the eyes and the object upon which -they gazed there lay a thin, transparent film. It resembled somewhat -the effect obtained by an imperceptible layer of dust on the black -top of a piano, softening the shine of polished wood. And no matter -how Father Ignatius placed the portrait, the eyes insistently -followed him, but there was no speech in them, only silence; and this -silence was so clear that it seemed it could be heard. And gradually -Father Ignatius began to think that he heard silence. - -Every morning after breakfast Father Ignatius would enter the -drawing-room, throw a rapid glance at the empty cage and the other -familiar objects, and seating himself in the armchair would close his -eyes and listen to the silence of the house. There was something -grotesque about this. The cage kept silence, stilly and tenderly, -and in this silence were felt sorrow and tears, and distant dead -laughter. The silence of his wife, softened by the walls, continued -insistent, heavy as lead, and terrible, so terrible that on the -hottest day Father Ignatius would be seized by cold shivers. -Continuous and cold as the grave, and mysterious as death, was the -silence of his daughter. The silence itself seemed to share this -suffering and struggled, as it were, with the terrible desire to pass -into speech; however, something strong and cumbersome, as a machine, -held it motionless and stretched it out as a wire. And somewhere at -the distant end, the wire would begin to agitate and resound -subduedly, feebly, and plaintively. With joy, yet with terror, -Father Ignatius would seize upon this engendered sound, and resting -with his arms upon the arms of the chair, would lean his head -forward, awaiting the sound to reach him. But the sound would break -and pass into silence. - -"How stupid!" muttered Father Ignatius, angrily, arising from the -chair, still erect and tall. Through the window he saw, suffused -with sunlight, the street, which was paved with round, even-sized -stones, and directly across, the stone wall of a long, windowless -shed. On the corner stood a cab-driver, resembling a clay statue, -and it was difficult to understand why he stood there, when for hours -there was not a single passer-by. - - - -III - -Father Ignatius had occasion for considerable speech outside his -house. There was talking to be done with the clergy, with the -members of his flock, while officiating at ceremonies, sometimes with -acquaintances at social evenings; yet, upon his return he would feel -invariably that the entire day he had been silent. This was due to -the fact that with none of those people he could talk upon that -matter which concerned him most, and upon which he would contemplate -each night: Why did Vera die? - -Father Ignatius did not seem to understand that now this could not be -known, and still thought it was possible to know. Each night--all -his nights had become sleepless--he would picture that minute when he -and his wife, in dead midnight, stood near Vera's bed, and he -entreated her: "Tell us!" And when in his recollection, he would -reach these words, the rest appeared to him not as it was in reality. -His closed eyes, preserving in their darkness a live and undimmed -picture of that night, saw how Vera raised herself in her bed, smiled -and tried to say something. And what was that she tried to say? -That unuttered word of Vera's, which should have solved all, seemed -so near, that if one only had bent his ear and suppressed the beats -of his heart, one could have heard it, and at the same time it was so -infinitely, so hopelessly distant. Father Ignatius would arise from -his bed, stretch forth his joined hands and, wringing them, would -exclaim: - -"Vera!" - -And he would be answered by silence. - -One evening Father Ignatius entered the chamber of Olga Stepanovna, -whom he had not come to see for a week, seated himself at her head, -and turning away from that insistent, heavy gaze, said: - -"Mother! I wish to talk to you about Vera. Do you hear?" - -Her eyes were silent, and Father Ignatius raising his voice, spoke -sternly and powerfully, as he was accustomed to speak with penitents: - -"I am aware that you are under the impression that I have been the -cause of Vera's death. Reflect, however, did I love her less than -you loved her? You reason absurdly. I have been stern; did that -prevent her from doing as she wished? I have forfeited the dignity -of a father, I humbly bent my neck, when she defied my malediction -and departed hence. And you--did you not entreat her to remain, -until I commanded you to be silent. Did I beget cruelty in her? Did -I not teach her about God, about humility, about love?" - -Father Ignatius quickly glanced into the eyes of his wife, and turned -away. - -"What was there for me to do when she did not wish to reveal her -sorrow? Did I not command her? Did I not entreat her? I suppose, -in your opinion, I should have dropped on my knees before the maid, -and cried like an old woman! How should I know what was going on in -her head! Cruel, heartless daughter!" - -Father Ignatius hit his knees with his fist. - -"There was no love in her--that's what! As far as I'm concerned, -that's settled, of course--I'm a tyrant! Perhaps she loved you--you, -who wept and humbled yourself?" - -Father Ignatius gave a hollow laugh. - -"There's love for you! And as a solace for you, what a death she -chose! A cruel, ignominious death. She died in the dust, in the -dirt--as a d-dog who is kicked in the jaw." - -The voice of Father Ignatius sounded low and hoarse: - -"I feel ashamed! Ashamed to go out in the street! Ashamed before -the altar! Ashamed before God! Cruel, undeserving daughter! -Accurst in thy grave!" - -When Father Ignatius glanced at his wife she was unconscious, and -revived only after several hours. When she regained consciousness -her eyes were silent, and it was impossible to tell whether or not -she remembered what Father Ignatius had said. - -That very night--it was a moonlit, calm, warm and deathly-still night -in May--Father Ignatius, proceeding on his tip-toes, so as not to be -overheard by his wife and the sick-nurse, climbed up the stairs and -entered Vera's room. The window in the attic had remained closed -since the death of Verar and the atmosphere was dry and warm, with a -light odour of burning that comes from heat generated during the day -in the iron roof. The air of lifelessness and abandonment permeated -the apartment, which for a long time had remained unvisited, and -where the timber of the walls, the furniture, and other objects gave -forth a slight odour of continued putrescence. A bright streak of -moonlight fell on the window-sill, and on the floor, and, reflected -by the white, carefully washed boards, cast a dim light into the -room's corners, while the white, clean bed, with two pillows, one -large and one small, seemed phantom-like and aerial. Father Ignatius -opened the window, causing to pour into the room a considerable -current of fresh air, smelling of dust, of the nearby river, and the -blooming linden. An indistinct sound as of voices in chorus also -entered occasionally; evidently young people rowed and sang. - -Quietly treading with naked feet, resembling a white phanton, Father -Ignatius made his way to the vacant bed, bent his knees and fell face -down on the pillows, embracing them--on that spot where should have -been Vera's face. Long he lay thus; the song grew louder, then died -out; but he still lay there, while his long, black hair spread over -his shoulders and the bed. - -The moon had changed its position, and the room grew darker, when -Father Ignatius raised his head and murmured, putting into his voice -the entire strength of his long-suppressed and unconscious love and -hearkening to his own words, as if it were not he who was listening, -but Vera. - -"Vera, daughter mine! Do you understand what you are to me, -daughter? Little daughter! My heart, my blood, and my life. Your -father--your old father--is already grey, and also feeble." - -The shoulders of Father Ignatius shook and the entire burdened figure -became agitated. Suppressing his agitation, Father Ignatius murmured -tenderly, as to an infant: - -"Your old father entreats you. No, little Vera, he supplicates. He -weeps. He never has wept before. Your sorrow, little child, your -sufferings--they are also mine. Greater than mine." - -Father Ignatius shook his head. - -"Greater, Verochka. What is death to an old man like me? But -you--if you only knew how delicate and weak and timid you are! Do -you recall how you bruised your finger once and the blood trickled -and you cried a little? My child! I know that you love me, love me -intensely. Every morning you kiss my hand. Tell me, do tell me, -what grief troubles your little head, and I--with these hands--shall -smother your grief. They are still strong, Vera, these hands." - -The hair of Father Ignatius shook. - -"Tell me!" - -Father Ignatius fixed his eyes on the wall, and wrung his hands. - -"Tell me!" - -Stillness prevailed in the room, and from afar was heard the -prolonged and broken whistle of a locomotive. - -Father Ignatius, gazing out of his dilated eyes, as if there had -arisen suddenly before him the frightful phantom of the mutilated -corpse, slowly raised himself from his knees, and with a credulous -motion reached for his head with his hand, with spread and tensely -stiffened fingers. Making a step toward the door, Father Ignatius -whispered brokenly: - -"Tell me!" - -And he was answered by silence. - - - -IV - -The next day, after an early and lonely dinner, Father Ignatius went -to the graveyard, the first time since his daughter's death. It was -warm, deserted and still; it seemed more like an illumined night. -Following habit, Father Ignatius, with effort, straightened his -spine, looked severely about him, and thought that he was the same as -formerly; he was conscious neither of the new, terrible weakness in -his legs, nor that his long beard had become entirely white as if a -hard frost had hit it. The road to the graveyard led through a long, -direct street, slightly on an upward incline, and at its termination -loomed the arch of the graveyard gate, resembling a dark, perpetually -open mouth, edged with glistening teeth. - -Vera's grave was situated in the depth of the grounds, where the -sandy little pathways terminated, and Father Ignatius, for a -considerable time, was obliged to blunder along the narrow footpaths, -which led in a broken line between green mounds, by all forgotten and -abandoned. Here and there appeared, green with age, sloping -tombstones, broken railings, and large, heavy stones planted in the -ground, and seemingly crushing it with some cruel, ancient spite. -Near one such stone was the grave of Vera. It was covered with fresh -turf, turned yellow; around, however, all was in bloom. Ash embraced -maple tree; and the widely spread hazel bush stretched out over the -grave its bending branches with their downy, shaggy foliage. Sitting -down on a neighbouring grave and catching his breath, Father Ignatius -looked around him, throwing a glance upon the cloudless, desert sky, -where in complete immovability hung the glowing sun disk--and here he -only felt that deep, incomparable stillness which reigns in -graveyards, when the wind is absent and the slumbering foliage has -ceased its rustling. And anew the thought came to Father Ignatius -that this was not a stillness but a silence. It extended to the very -brick walls of the graveyard, crept over them and occupied the city. -And it terminated only--in those grey, obstinate and reluctantly -silent eyes. - -Father Ignatius' shoulders shivered, and he lowered his eyes upon the -grave of Vera. He gazed long upon the little tufts of grass uprooted -together with the earth from some open, wind-swept field and not -successful in adapting themselves to a strange soil; he could not -imagine that there, under this grass, only a few feet from him, lay -Vera. And this nearness seemed incomprehensible and brought -confusion into the soul and a strange agitation. She, of whom Father -Ignatius was accustomed to think of as one passed away forever into -the dark depths of eternity, was here, close by--and it was hard to -understand that she, nevertheless, was no more and never again would -be. And in the mind's fancy of Father Ignatius it seemed that if he -could only utter some word, which was almost upon his lips, or if he -could make some sort of movement, Vera would issue forth from her -grave and arise to the same height and beauty that was once hers. -And not alone would she arise, but all corpses, intensely sensitive -in their solemnly-cold silence. - -Father Ignatius removed his wide-brimmed black hat, smoothed down his -disarranged hair, and whispered: - -"Vera!" - -Father Ignatius felt ill at ease, fearing to be overheard by a -stranger, and stepping on the grave he gazed around him. No one was -present, and this time he repeated loudly: - -"Vera!" - -It was the voice of an aged man, sharp and demanding, and it was -strange that a so powerfully expressed desire should remain without -answer. - -"Vera!" - -Loudly and insistently the voice called, and when it relapsed into -silence, it seemed for a moment that somewhere from underneath came -an incoherent answer. And Father Ignatius, clearing his ear of his -long hair, pressed it to the rough, prickly turf. - -"Vera, tell me!" - -With terror, Father Ignatius felt pouring into his ear something cold -as of the grave, which froze his marrow; Vera seemed to be -speaking--speaking, however, with the same unbroken silence. This -feeling became more racking and terrible, and when Father Ignatius -forced himself finally to tear away his head, his face was pale as -that of a corpse, and he fancied that the entire atmosphere trembled -and palpitated from a resounding silence, and that this terrible sea -was being swept by a wild hurricane. The silence strangled him; with -icy waves it rolled through his head and agitated the hair; it smote -against his breast, which groaned under the blows. Trembling from -head to foot, casting around him sharp and sudden glances, Father -Ignatius slowly raised himself and with a prolonged and torturous -effort attempted to straighten his spine and to give proud dignity to -his trembling body. He succeeded in this. With measured -protractiveness, Father Ignatius shook the dirt from his knees, put -on his hat, made the sign of the cross three times over the grave, -and walked away with an even and firm gait, not recognising, however, -the familiar burial ground and losing his way. - -"Well, here I've gone astray!" smiled Father Ignatius, halting at the -branching of the footpaths. - -He stood there for a moment, and, unreflecting turned to the left, -because it was impossible to stand and wait. The silence drove him -on. It arose from the green graves; it was the breath issuing from -the grey, melancholy crosses; in thin, stifling currents it came from -all pores of the earth, satiated with the dead. Father Ignatius -increased his stride. Dizzy, he circled the same paths, jumped over -graves, stumbled across railings, clutching with his hands the -prickly, metallic garlands, and tearing the soft material of his -dress into tatters. His sole thought was to escape. He fled from -one place to another, and finally broke into a dead run, seeming very -tall and unusual in the flowing cassock, with his hair streaming in -the wind. A corpse arisen from the grave could not have frightened a -passer-by more than this wild figure of a man, running and leaping, -and waving his arms, his face distorted and insane, and the open -mouth breathing with a dull, hoarse sound. With one long leap, -Father Ignatius landed on a little street, at one end of which -appeared the small church attached to the graveyard. At the -entrance, on a low bench, dozed an old man, seemingly a distant -pilgrim, and near him, assailing each other, were two quarrelling old -beggar women, filling the air with their oaths. - -When Father Ignatius reached his home, it was already dusk, and there -was light in Olga Stepanovna's chamber. Not undressing and without -removing his hat, dusty and tattered, Father Ignatius approached his -wife and fell on his knees. "Mother ... Olga ... have pity on me!" -he wept. "I shall go mad." - -He dashed his head against the edge of the table and he wept with -anguish, as one who was weeping for the first time. Then he raised -his head, confident that a miracle would come to pass, that his wife -would speak and would pity him. - -"My love!" - -With his entire big body he drew himself toward his wife--and met the -gaze of those grey eyes. There was neither compassion in them, nor -anger. It was possible his wife had forgiven him, but in her eyes -there was neither pity, nor anger. They were dumb and silent. - -* * * * * * * - -And silent was the entire dark, deserted house. - - - -END - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Masterpieces of Adventure--Adventures -within Walls, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURE--ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS *** - -***** This file should be named 63016-8.txt or 63016-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/0/1/63016/ - -Produced by Al Haines -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Masterpieces of Adventure--Adventures within Walls - -Author: Various - -Editor: Nella Braddy - -Release Date: August 23, 2020 [EBook #63016] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURE--ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t2"> - Masterpieces of<br /> - Adventure<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t3"> - <i>In Four Volumes</i><br /> -</p> - -<h1> -<br /><br /> - ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS<br /> -</h1> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - Edited by<br /> - Nella Braddy<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - Garden City New York<br /> - Doubleday, Page & Company<br /> - 1922<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY<br /> - DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> -<br /><br /> - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION<br /> - INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN<br /> -<br /><br /> - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES<br /> - AT<br /> - THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - GRATEFULLY DEDICATED<br /> - TO<br /> - BLANCHE COLTON WILLIAMS, PH.D.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> -EDITOR'S NOTE -</p> - -<p> -In these volumes the word <i>adventure</i> has been -used in its broadest sense to cover not only strange -happenings in strange places but also love and life -and death—all things that have to do with the great -adventure of living. Questions as to the fitness of a -story were settled by examining the qualities of the -narrative as such rather than by reference to a -technical classification of short stories. -</p> - -<p> -It is the inalienable right of the editor of a work -of this kind to plead copyright difficulties in -extenuation for whatever faults it may possess. We beg the -reader to believe that this is why his favorite story -was omitted while one vastly inferior was included. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> -CONTENTS -</p> - -<p><br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -I. <a href="#chap01">THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT'S DOOR</a><br /> - Robert Louis Stevenson<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -II. <a href="#chap02">A DOUBLE-DYED DECEIVER</a><br /> - O. Henry<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -III. <a href="#chap03">THE BOLD DRAGOON</a><br /> - Washington Irving<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -IV. <a href="#chap04">THE BET</a><br /> - Anton Chekhov<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -V. <a href="#chap05">LA GRANDE BRETČCHE</a><br /> - Honoré de Balzac<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -VI. <a href="#chap06">THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH</a><br /> - Edgar Allan Poe<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -VII. <a href="#chap07">DR. MANETTE'S MANUSCRIPT</a><br /> - Charles Dickens<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -VIII. <a href="#chap08">SILENCE</a><br /> - Leonidas Andreiyeff<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -MASTERPIECES OF ADVENTURE -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<p class="t2"> -Masterpieces of Adventure -</p> - -<p class="t2b"> -<i>ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS</i> -</p> - -<h3> -I -<br /><br /> -THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT'S DOOR* -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -*Reprinted by permission of Charles Scribner's Sons. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Denis de Beaulieu was not yet -two-and-twenty, but he counted himself a grown -man, and a very accomplished cavalier into -the bargain. Lads were early formed in that rough, -warfaring epoch; and when one has been in a -pitched battle and a dozen raids, has killed one's -man in an honourable fashion, and knows a thing or -two of strategy and mankind, a certain swagger in -the gait is surely to be pardoned. He had put up his -horse with due care, and supped with due deliberation; -and then, in a very agreeable frame of mind, -went out to pay a visit in the grey of the evening. -It was not a very wise proceeding on the young man's -part. He would have done better to remain beside -the fire or go decently to bed. For the town was -full of the troops of Burgundy and England under a -mixed command; and though Denis was there on -safe-conduct, his safe-conduct was like to serve him -little on a chance encounter. -</p> - -<p> -It was September 1429; the weather had fallen -sharp; a flighty, piping wind, laden with showers, -beat about the township; and the dead leaves ran -riot along the streets. Here and there a window -was already lighted up; and the noise of men-at-arms -making merry over supper within, came forth in fits -and was swallowed up and carried away by the wind. -The night fell swiftly; the flag of England, fluttering -on the spire-top, grew ever fainter and fainter -against the flying clouds—a black speck like a -swallow in the tumultuous, leaden chaos of the sky. As -the night fell the wind rose, and began to hoot under -archways and roar amid the tree-tops in the valley -below the town. -</p> - -<p> -Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking -at his friend's door; but though he promised himself -to stay only a little while and make an early -return, his welcome was so pleasant, and he found so -much to delay him, that it was already long past -midnight before he said good-bye upon the threshold. -The wind had fallen again in the meanwhile; the -night was as black as the grave; not a star, nor a -glimmer of moonshine, slipped through the canopy -of cloud. Denis was ill-acquainted with the intricate -lanes of Château Landon; even by daylight he had -found some trouble in picking his way; and in this -absolute darkness he soon lost it altogether. He was -certain of one thing only—to keep mounting the -hill; for his friend's house lay at the lower end, or -tail, of Château Landon, while the inn was up at -the head, under the great church spire. With this -clue to go upon he stumbled and groped forward, -now breathing more freely in open places where there -was a good slice of sky overhead, now feeling along -the wall in stifling closes. It is an eerie and -mysterious position to be thus submerged in opaque -blackness in an almost unknown town. The silence is -terrifying in its possibilities. The touch of cold -window bars to the exploring hand startles the man -like the touch of a toad; the inequalities of the -pavement shake his heart into his mouth; a piece of denser -darkness threatens an ambuscade or a chasm in the -pathway; and where the air is brighter, the houses -put on strange and bewildering appearances, as if -to lead him farther from his way. For Denis, who -had to regain his inn without attracting notice, there -was real danger as well as mere discomfort in the -walk; and he went warily and boldly at once, and at -every corner paused to make an observation. -</p> - -<p> -He had been for some time threading a lane so -narrow that he could touch a wall with either hand, -when it began to open out and go sharply downward. -Plainly this lay no longer in the direction of his inn; -but the hope of a little more light tempted him -forward to reconnoitre. The lane ended in a terrace -with a bartizan wall, which gave an outlook between -high houses, as out of an embrasure, into the valley -lying dark and formless several hundred feet below. -Denis looked down, and could discern a few tree-tops -waving and a single speck of brightness where the -river ran across a weir. The weather was clearing up, -and the sky had lightened, so as to show the outline -of the heavier clouds and the dark margin of the hills. -By the uncertain glimmer, the house on his left hand -should be a place of some pretensions; it was -surmounted by several pinnacles and turret-tops; the -round stern of a chapel, with a fringe of flying -buttresses, projected boldly from the main block; and -the door was sheltered under a deep porch carved -with figures and overhung by two long gargoyles. -The windows of the chapel gleamed through their -intricate tracery with a light as of many tapers, and -threw out the buttresses and the peaked roof in a -more intense blackness against the sky. It was -plainly the hotel of some great family of the -neighbourhood; and as it reminded Denis of a town house -of his own at Bourges, he stood for some time gazing -up at it and mentally gauging the skill of the -architects and the consideration of the two families. -</p> - -<p> -There seemed to be no issue to the terrace but -the lane by which he had reached it; he could only -retrace his steps, but he had gained some notion of -his whereabouts, and hoped by this means to hit the -main thoroughfare and speedily regain the inn. He -was reckoning without that chapter of accidents -which was to make this night memorable above all -others in his career; for he had not gone back above -a hundred yards before he saw a light coming to meet -him, and heard loud voices speaking together in -the echoing narrows of the lane. It was a party of -men-at-arms going the night round with torches. -Denis assured himself that they had all been making -free with the wine-bowl, and were in no mood to be -particular about safe-conducts or the niceties of -chivalrous war. It was as like as not that they -would kill him like a dog and leave him where he -fell. The situation was inspiriting but nervous. -Their own torches would conceal him from sight, -he reflected; and he hoped that they would drown -the noise of his footsteps with their own empty -voices. If he were but fleet and silent, he might -evade their notice altogether. -</p> - -<p> -Unfortunately, as he turned to beat a retreat, his -foot rolled upon a pebble; he fell against the wall -with an ejaculation, and his sword rang loudly on -the stones. Two or three voices demanded who -went there—some in French, some in English; but -Denis made no reply, and ran the faster down the -lane. Once upon the terrace, he paused to look -back. They still kept calling after him, and just -then began to double the pace in pursuit, with a -considerable clank of armour, and great tossing of the -torchlight to and fro in the narrow jaws of the -passage. -</p> - -<p> -Denis cast a look around and darted into the -porch. There he might escape observation, or—if -that were too much to expect—was in a capital -posture whether for parley or defence. So thinking, -he drew his sword and tried to set his back against -the door. To his surprise, it yielded behind his -weight; and though he turned in a moment, -continued to swing back on oiled and noiseless hinges, -until it stood wide open on a black ulterior. When -things fall out opportunely for the person concerned, -he is not apt to be critical about the how or -why, his own immediate personal convenience -seeming a sufficient reason for the strangest oddities -and revolutions in our sublunary things; and so -Denis, without a moment's hesitation, stepped -within and partly closed the door behind him to -conceal his place of refuge. Nothing was further -from his thoughts than to close it altogether; but for -some inexplicable reason—perhaps by a spring or a -weight—the ponderous mass of oak whipped itself -out of his fingers and clanked to, with a formidable -rumble and a noise like the falling of an automatic -bar. -</p> - -<p> -The round, at that very moment, debouched -upon the terrace and proceeded to summon him with -shouts and curses. He heard them ferreting in the -dark corners; the stock of a lance even rattled along -the outer surface of the door behind which he stood; -but these gentlemen were in too high a humour to -be long delayed, and soon made off down a corkscrew -pathway which had escaped Denis's observation, -and passed out of sight and hearing along the -battlements of the town. -</p> - -<p> -Denis breathed again. He gave them a few -minutes' grace for fear of accidents, and then groped -about for some means of opening the door and -slipping forth again. The inner surface was quite -smooth, not a handle, not a moulding, not a projection -of any sort. He got his finger-nails round the -edges and pulled, but the mass was immovable. He -shook it, it was as firm as a rock. Denis de Beaulieu -frowned and gave vent to a little noiseless whistle. -What ailed the door? he wondered. Why was it -open? How came it to shut so easily and so effectually -after him? There was something obscure and -underhand about all this, that was little to the -young man's fancy. It looked like a snare; and -yet who could suppose a snare in such a quiet -by-street and in a house of so prosperous and even -noble an exterior? And yet—snare or no snare, -intentionally or unintentionally—here he was, -prettily trapped; and for the life of him he could see -no way out of it again. The darkness began to -weigh upon him. He gave ear; all was silent without, -but within and close by he seemed to catch a faint -sighing, a faint sobbing rustle, a little stealthy -creek—as though many persons were at his side, holding -themselves quite still, and governing even their -respiration with the extreme of slyness. The idea -went to his vitals with a shock, and he faced about -suddenly as if to defend his life. Then, for the first -time, he became aware of a light about the level of -his eyes and at some distance in the interior of the -house—a vertical thread of light, widening toward -the bottom, such as might escape between two -wings of arras over a doorway. To see anything -was a relief to Denis; it was like a piece of solid -ground to a man labouring in a morass; his mind -seized upon it with avidity; and he stood staring -at it and trying to piece together some logical -conception of his surroundings. Plainly there was a -flight of steps ascending from his own level to that -of this illuminated doorway; and indeed he thought -he could make out another thread of light, as fine as -a needle and as faint as phosphorescence, which -might very well be reflected along the polished wood -of a handrail. Since he had begun to suspect that -he was not alone, his heart had continued to beat -with smothering violence, and an intolerable desire -for action of any sort had possessed itself of his -spirit. He was in deadly peril, he believed. What -could be more natural than to mount the staircase, -lift the curtain, and confront his difficulty at once? -At least he would be dealing with something tangible; -at least he would be no longer in the dark. He -stepped slowly forward with outstretched hands, -until his foot struck the bottom step; then he rapidly -scaled the stairs, stood for a moment to compose -his expression, lifted the arras and went in. -</p> - -<p> -He found himself in a large apartment of polished -stone. There were three doors; one on each of -three sides; all similarly curtained with tapestry. -The fourth side was occupied by two large windows -and a great stone chimney-piece, carved with the -arms of the Malétroits. Denis recognized the -bearings, and was gratified to find himself in such -good hands. The room was strongly illuminated; -but it contained little furniture except a heavy -table and a chair or two, the hearth was innocent of -fire, and the pavement was but sparsely strewn -with rushes clearly many days old. -</p> - -<p> -On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly -facing Denis as he entered, sat a little old gentleman -in a fur tippet. He sat with his legs crossed and -his hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine stood by -his elbow on a bracket on the wall. His countenance -had a strongly masculine cast; not properly -human, but such as we see in the bull, the goat, or -the domestic boar; something equivocal and -wheedling, something greedy, brutal, and dangerous. -The upper lip was inordinately full, as though -swollen by a blow or a toothache; and the smile, the -peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were -quaintly and almost comically evil in expression. -Beautiful white hair hung straight all round his -head, like a saint's, and fell in a single curl upon the -tippet. His beard and moustache were the pink -of venerable sweetness. Age, probably in consequence -of inordinate precautions, had left no mark -upon his hands; and the Malétroit hand was famous. -It would be difficult to imagine anything at once -so fleshly and so delicate in design; the taper, sensual -fingers were like those of one of Leonardo's women; -the fork of the thumb made a dimpled protuberance -when closed; the nails were perfectly shaped, and -of a dead, surprising whiteness. It rendered his -aspect tenfold more redoubtable, that a man with -hands like these should keep them devoutly folded -in his lap like a virgin martyr—that a man with -so intense and startling an expression of face should -sit patiently on his seat and contemplate people -with an unwinking stare, like a god or a god's statue. -His quiescence seemed ironical and treacherous, it -fitted so poorly with his looks. Such was Alain, -Sire de Malétroit. -</p> - -<p> -Denis and he looked silently at each other for a -second or two. -</p> - -<p> -"Pray step in," said the Sire de Malétroit. "I -have been expecting you all evening." -</p> - -<p> -He had not risen, but he accompanied his words -with a smile and a slight but courteous inclination -of the head. Partly from the smile, partly from -the strange musical murmur with which the Sir -prefaced his observation, Denis felt a strong shudder -of disgust go through his marrow. And what with -disgust and honest confusion of mind, he could -scarcely get words together in reply. -</p> - -<p> -"I fear," he said, "that this is a double accident. -I am not the person you suppose me. It seems you -were looking for a visit; but for my part, nothing -was further from my thoughts—nothing could be -more contrary to my wishes—than this intrusion." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well," replied the old gentleman indulgently, -"here you are, which is the main point. Seat -yourself, my friend, and put yourself entirely at -your ease. We shall arrange our little affairs -presently." -</p> - -<p> -Denis perceived that the matter was still complicated -with some misconception, and he hastened to -continue his explanations. -</p> - -<p> -"Your door..." he began. -</p> - -<p> -"About my door?" asked the other, raising his -peaked eyebrows. "A little piece of ingenuity." And -he shrugged his shoulders. "A hospitable -fancy! By your own account, you were not desirous -of making my acquaintance. We old people look -for such reluctance now and then; and when it -touches our honour, we cast about until we find some -way of overcoming it. You arrive uninvited, but, -believe me, very welcome." -</p> - -<p> -"You persist in error, sir," said Denis. "There -can be no question between you and me. I am a -stranger in this countryside. My name is Denis, -damoiseau de Beaulieu. If you see me in your house, -it is only——" -</p> - -<p> -"My young friend," interrupted the other, "you -will permit me to have my own ideas on that subject. -They probably differ from yours at the present -moment," he added with a leer, "but time will show -which of us is in the right." -</p> - -<p> -Denis was convinced he had to do with a lunatic. -He seated himself with a shrug, content to wait the -upshot; and a pause ensued, during which he thought -he could distinguish a hurried gabbling as of prayer -from behind the arras immediately opposite him. -Sometimes there seemed to be but one person -engaged, sometimes two; and the vehemence of the -voice, low as it was, seemed to indicate either great -haste or an agony of spirit. It occurred to him that -this piece of tapestry covered the entrance to the -chapel he had noticed from without. -</p> - -<p> -The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis -from head to foot with a smile, and from time to -time emitted little noises like a bird or a mouse, -which seemed to indicate a high degree of satisfaction. -This state of matters became rapidly insupportable; -and Denis, to put an end to it, remarked -politely that the wind had gone down. -</p> - -<p> -The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, -so prolonged and violent that he became quite red -in the face. Denis got upon his feet at once, and -put on his hat with a flourish. -</p> - -<p> -"Sir," he said, "if you are in your wits, you have -affronted me grossly. If you are out of them, I -flatter myself I can find better employment for my -brains than to talk with lunatics. My conscience -is clear; you have made a fool of me from the first -moment; you have refused to hear my explanations; -and now there is no power under God will make me -stay here any longer; and if I cannot make my way -out in a more decent fashion, I will hack your door -in pieces with my sword." -</p> - -<p> -The Sire de Malétroit raised his right hand and -wagged it at Denis with the fore and little fingers -extended. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear nephew," he said, "sit down." -</p> - -<p> -"Nephew!" retorted Denis, "you lie in your -throat;" and he snapped his fingers in his face. -</p> - -<p> -"Sit down, you rogue!" cried the old gentleman, -in a sudden, harsh voice, like the barking of a dog. -"Do you fancy," he went on, "that when I had -made my little contrivance for the door, I had -stopped short with that? If you prefer to be bound -hand and foot till your bones ache, rise and try to -go away. If you choose to remain a free young buck, -agreeably conversing with an old gentleman—why, -sit where you are in peace, and God be with you." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean I am a prisoner?" demanded Denis. -</p> - -<p> -"I state the facts," replied the other. "I would -rather leave the conclusion to yourself." -</p> - -<p> -Denis sat down again. Externally he managed to -keep pretty calm; but within, he was now boiling -with anger, now chilled with apprehension. He no -longer felt convinced that he was dealing with a -madman. And if the old gentleman was sane, what, in -God's name, had he to look for? What absurd or -tragical adventure had befallen him? What -countenance was he to assume? -</p> - -<p> -While he was thus unpleasantly reflecting, the -arras that overhung the chapel door was raised, and -a tall priest in his robes came forth and, giving a -long, keen stare at Denis, said something in an -undertone to the Sire de Malétroit. -</p> - -<p> -"She is in a better frame of spirit?" asked the -latter. -</p> - -<p> -"She is more resigned, messire," replied the -priest.' -</p> - -<p> -"Now the Lord help her, she is hard to please!" -sneered the old gentleman. "A likely stripling—not -ill-born—and of her own choosing, too? Why, -what more would the jade have?" -</p> - -<p> -"The situation is not usual for a young damsel," -said the other, "and somewhat trying to her blushes." -</p> - -<p> -"She should have thought of that before she began -the dance? It was none of my choosing, God knows -that: but since she is in it, by our lady, she shall -carry it to an end." And then addressing Denis, -"Monsieur de Beaulieu," he asked, "may I present -you to my niece? She has been waiting your -arrival, I may say, with even greater impatience -than myself." -</p> - -<p> -Denis had resigned himself with a good grace—all -he desired was to know the worst of it as speedily -as possible; so he rose at once, and bowed in -acquiescence. The Sire de Malétroit followed his example -and limped, with the assistance of the chaplain's -arm, toward the chapel-door. The priest pulled -aside the arras, and all three entered. The building -had considerable architectural pretensions. A light -groining sprang from six stout columns, and hung -down in two rich pendants from the centre of the -vault. The place terminated behind the altar in a -round end, embossed and honey-combed with a -superfluity of ornament in relief, and pierced by -many little windows shaped like stars, trefoils, or -wheels. These windows were imperfectly glazed, -so that the night air circulated freely in the chapel. -The tapers, of which there must have been half a -hundred burning on the altar, were unmercifully -blown about; and the light went through many -different phases of brilliancy and semi-eclipse. On -the steps in front of the altar knelt a young girl richly -attired as a bride. A chill settled over Denis as he -observed her costume; he fought with desperate -energy against the conclusion that was being thrust -upon his mind; it could not—it should not—be as he -feared. -</p> - -<p> -"Blanche," said the Sire, in his most flute-like -tones, "I have brought a friend to see you, my little -girl; turn round and give him your pretty hand. It -is good to be devout; but it is necessary to be polite, -my niece." -</p> - -<p> -The girl rose to her feet and turned toward the -newcomers. She moved all of a piece; and shame -and exhaustion were expressed in every line of her -fresh young body; and she held her head down and -kept her eyes upon the pavement, as she came slowly -forward. In the course of her advance, her eyes fell -upon Denis de Beaulieu's feet—feet of which he was -justly vain, be it remarked, and wore in the most -elegant accoutrement even while travelling. She -paused—started, as if his yellow boots had conveyed -some shocking meaning—and glanced suddenly up -into the wearer's countenance. Their eyes met; -shame gave place to horror and terror in her looks; -the blood left her lips; with a piercing scream she -covered her face with her hands and sank upon the -chapel-floor. -</p> - -<p> -"That is not the man!" she cried. "My uncle, -that is not the man!" -</p> - -<p> -The Sire de Malétroit chirped agreeably. "Of -course not," he said, "I expected as much. It was -so unfortunate you could not remember his name." -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed," she cried, "indeed, I have never seen -this person till this moment—I have never so much -as set eyes upon him—I never wish to see him again. -Sir," she said, turning to Denis, "if you are a -gentleman, you will bear me out. Have I ever seen -you—have you ever seen me—before this accursed hour?" -</p> - -<p> -"To speak for myself, I have never had that -pleasure," answered the young man. "This is the -first time, messire, that I have met with your -engaging niece." -</p> - -<p> -The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"I am distressed to hear it," he said. "But it is -never too late to begin. I had little more acquaintance -with my own late lady ere I married her; which -proves," he added with a grimace, "that these -impromptu marriages may often produce an excellent -understanding in the long run. As the bridegroom -is to have a voice in the matter, I will give him two -hours to make up for lost time before we proceed -with the ceremony." And he turned toward the -door, followed by the clergyman. -</p> - -<p> -The girl was on her feet in a moment. "My -uncle, you cannot be in earnest," she said. "I -declare before God I will stab myself rather than be -forced on that young man. The heart rises at it; -God forbids such marriages; you dishonour your -white hair. Oh, my uncle, pity me! There is not a -woman in all the world but would prefer death to -such a nuptial. Is it possible," she added, -faltering—"is it possible that you do not believe me—that -you still think this"—and she pointed at Denis with -a tremor of anger and contempt—"that you still -think <i>this</i> to be the man?" -</p> - -<p> -"Frankly," said the old gentleman, pausing on -the threshold, "I do. But let me explain to you -once for all, Blanche de Malétroit, my way of -thinking about this affair. When you took it into your -head to dishonour my family and the name that I -have borne, in peace and war, for more than three-score -years, you forfeited, not only the right to question -my designs, but that of looking me in the face. -If your father had been alive, he would have spat -on you and turned you out of doors. His was the -hand of iron. You may bless your God you have -only to deal with the hand of velvet, mademoiselle. -It was my duty to get you married without delay. -Out of pure goodwill, I have tried to find your own -gallant for you. And I believe I have succeeded. -But before God and all the holy angels, Blanche de -Malétroit, if I have not, I care not one jack-straw. -So let me recommend you to be polite to our young -friend; for upon my word, your next groom may be -less appetising." -</p> - -<p> -And with that he went out, with the chaplain at -his heels; and the arras fell behind the pair. -</p> - -<p> -The girl turned upon Denis with flashing eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"And what, sir," she demanded, "may be the -meaning of all this?" -</p> - -<p> -"God knows," returned Denis gloomily. "I am -a prisoner in this house, which seems full of mad -people. More I know not; and nothing do I understand." -</p> - -<p> -"And pray how came you here?" she asked. -</p> - -<p> -He told her as briefly as he could. "For the rest," -he added, "perhaps you will follow my example, and -tell me the answer to all these riddles, and what, in -God's name, is like to be the end of it." -</p> - -<p> -She stood silent for a little, and he could see her -lips tremble and her tearless eyes burn with a -feverish lustre. Then she pressed her forehead in both -hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Alas, how my head aches!" she said wearily—"to -say nothing of my poor heart! But it is due to -you to know my story, unmaidenly as it must seem. -I am called Blanche de Malétroit; I have been without -father or mother for—oh! for as long as I can -recollect, and indeed I have been most unhappy all -my life. Three months ago a young captain began -to stand near me every day in church. I could see -that I pleased him; I am afraid I am silly, but I was -so glad that any one should love me; and when he -passed me a letter, I took it home with me and read -it with great pleasure. Since that time he has -written many. He was so anxious to speak with -me, poor fellow! and kept asking me to leave the -door open some evening that we might have two -words upon the stair. For he knew how much my -uncle trusted me." She gave something like a sob -at that, and it was a moment before she could go -on. "My uncle is a hard man, but he is very -shrewd," she said at last. "He has performed -many feats in war, and was a great person at court, -and much trusted by Queen Isabeau in old days. -How he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but it is -hard to keep anything from his knowledge; and this -morning, as we came from mass, he took my hand -in his, forced it open, and read my little billet, -walking by my side all the while. When he had finished, -he gave it back to me with great politeness. It -contained another request to have the door left -open; and this has been the ruin of us all. My -uncle kept me strictly in my room until evening, -and then ordered me to dress myself as you see me—a -hard mockery for a young girl, do you not think -so? I suppose, when he could not prevail with me -to tell him the young captain's name, he must have -laid a trap for him: into which, alas! you have fallen -in the anger of God. I looked for much confusion; -for how could I tell whether he was willing to take -me for his wife on these sharp terms? He might -have been trifling with me from the first; or I might -have made myself too cheap in his eyes. But truly -I had not looked for such a shameful punishment -as this! I could not think that God would let a -girl be so disgraced before a young man. And now -I have told you all, as I am true-born; although I -can scarcely hope that you will believe me, since I -fear that my own uncle does not." -</p> - -<p> -Denis made her a respectful inclination. -</p> - -<p> -"Madam," he said, "you have honoured me by -your confidence. It remains for me to prove that -I am not unworthy of the honour. Is Messire de -Malétroit at hand?" -</p> - -<p> -"I believe he is writing in the salle without," she -answered. -</p> - -<p> -"May I lead you thither, madam?" asked Denis, -offering his hand with his most courtly bearing. -</p> - -<p> -She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the -chapel, Blanche in a very drooping and shamefaced -condition, but Denis strutting and ruffling in the -consciousness of a mission, and the boyish certainty -of accomplishing it with honour. -</p> - -<p> -The Sire de Malétroit rose to meet them with an -ironical obeisance. -</p> - -<p> -"Sir," said Denis, with the grandest possible air, -"I believe I am to have some say in the matter of -this marriage; and let me tell you at once, I will be -no party to forcing the inclination of this young -lady. Had it been freely offered to me, I should -have been proud to accept her hand, for I perceive -she is as good as she is beautiful; but as things are, -I have now the honour, messire, of refusing." -</p> - -<p> -Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes; -but the old gentleman only smiled and smiled, until -his smile grew positively sickening to Denis. -</p> - -<p> -"I am afraid," he said, "Monsieur de Beaulieu, -that you do not perfectly understand the choice I -have to offer you. Follow me, I beseech you, to -this window." And he led the way to one of the -large windows which stood open on the night. -"You observe," he went on, "there is an iron ring -in the upper masonry, and reeved through that, a -very efficacious rope. Now, mark my words: if -you should find your disinclination to my niece's -person insurmountable, I shall have you hanged out -of this window before sunrise. I shall only proceed -to such an extremity with the greatest regret, you -may believe me. For it is not at all your death that -I desire, but my niece's establishment in life. At -the same time, it must come to that if you prove -obstinate. Your family, Monsieur de Beaulieu, is -very well in its way; but if you sprang from -Charlemagne, you should not refuse the hand of a -Malétroit with impunity—not if she had been as common -as the Paris road—not if she were as hideous as the -gargoyle over my door. Neither my niece nor you, -nor my own private feelings, move me at all in this -matter. The honour of my house has been compromised; -I believe you to be the guilty person; at -least you are now in the secret; and you can hardly -wonder if I request you to wipe out the stain. If -you will not, your blood be on your own head! It -will be no great satisfaction to me to have your -interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze -below my windows; but half a loaf is better than no -bread, and if I cannot cure the dishonour, I shall at -least stop the scandal." -</p> - -<p> -There was a pause. -</p> - -<p> -"I believe there are other ways of settling such -imbroglios among gentlemen," said Denis. "You -wear a sword, and I hear you have used it with -distinction." -</p> - -<p> -The Sire de Malétroit made a signal to the chaplain, -who crossed the room with long silent strides -and raised the arras over the third of the three doors. -It was only a moment before he let it fall again; but -Denis had time to see a dusky passage full of armed -men. -</p> - -<p> -"When I was a little younger, I should have been -delighted to honour you, Monsieur de Beaulieu," -said Sire Alain; "but I am now too old. Faithful -retainers are the sinews of age, and I must employ -the strength I have. This is one of the hardest -things to swallow as a man grows up in years; but -with a little patience, even this becomes habitual. -You and the lady seem to prefer the salle for what -remains of your two hours; and as I have no desire -to cross your preference, I shall resign it to your use -with all the pleasure in the world. No haste!" he -added, holding up his hand, as he saw a dangerous -look come into Denis de Beaulieu's face. "If your -mind revolts against hanging, it will be time enough -two hours hence to throw yourself out of the window -or upon the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of -life are always two hours. A great many things -may turn up in even as little a while as that. And, -besides, if I understand her appearance, my niece -has still something to say to you. You will not -disfigure your last hours by a want of politeness to -a lady?" -</p> - -<p> -Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an -imploring gesture. -</p> - -<p> -The old gentleman was hugely pleased at this -symptom of an understanding. "Let us give them -all the rope we can," he thought; and then he -continued aloud: "If you will give me your word of -honour, Monsieur de Beaulieu, to await my return -at the end of the two hours before attempting -anything desperate, I shall withdraw my retainers, and -let you speak in greater privacy with mademoiselle." -</p> - -<p> -Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to -beseech him to agree. -</p> - -<p> -"I give you my word of honour," he said. -</p> - -<p> -Messire de Malétroit bowed, and proceeded to -limp about the apartment, clearing his throat the -while with that odd musical chirp which had already -grown so irritating in the ears of Denis de Beaulieu. -He first possessed himself of some papers which lay -upon the table; then he went to the mouth of the -passage and appeared to give an order to the men -behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled out through -the door by which Denis had come in, turning upon -the threshold to address a last smiling bow to the -young couple, and followed by the chaplain with a -hand-lamp. -</p> - -<p> -No sooner were they alone than Blanche -advanced toward Denis with her hands extended. -Her face was flushed and excited, and her eyes shone -with tears. -</p> - -<p> -"You shall not die!" she cried, "you shall marry -me after all." -</p> - -<p> -"You seem to think, madam," replied Denis, -"that I stand much in fear of death." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh no, no," she said, "I see you are no poltroon. -It is for my own sake—I could not bear to have you -slain for such a scruple." -</p> - -<p> -"I am afraid," returned Denis, "that you -underrate the difficulty, madam. What you -may be too generous to refuse, I may be too -proud to accept. In a moment of noble feeling -toward me, you forget what you perhaps owe -to others." -</p> - -<p> -He had the decency to keep his eyes upon the floor -as he said this, and after he had finished, so as not -to spy upon her confusion. She stood silent for a -moment, then walked suddenly away, and sitting -down in her uncle's chair, fairly burst out sobbing. -Denis was in the acme of embarrassment. He -looked round, as if to seek for inspiration, and -seeing a stool, plumped down upon it for something to -do. There he sat, playing with the guard of his -rapier, and wishing himself dead a thousand times -over, and buried in the nastiest kitchen-heap in -France. His eyes wandered round the apartment, -but found nothing to arrest them. There were -such wide spaces between the furniture, the light -fell so baldly and cheerlessly over all, the dark -outside air looked in so coldly through the windows, -that he thought he had never seen a church so vast, -nor a tomb so melancholy. The regular sobs of -Blanche de Malétroit measured out the time like the -ticking of a clock. He read the device upon the -shield over and over again, until his eyes became -obscured; he stared into shadowy corners until he -imagined they were swarming with horrible animals; -and every now and again he awoke with a start, to -remember that his last two hours were running, and -death was on the march. -</p> - -<p> -Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his -glance settle on the girl herself. Her face was -bowed forward and covered with her hands, and she -was shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of -grief. Even thus she was not an unpleasant object -to dwell upon, so plump and yet so fine, with a warm -brown skin, and the most beautiful hair, Denis -thought, in the whole world of womankind. Her -hands were like her uncle's; but they were more in -place at the end of her young arms, and looked -infinitely soft and caressing. He remembered how -her blue eyes had shone upon him, full of anger, -pity, and innocence. And the more he dwelt on her -perfections, the uglier death looked, and the more -deeply was he smitten with penitence at her -continued tears. Now he felt that no man could have -the courage to leave a world which contained so -beautiful a creature; and now he would have given -forty minutes of his last hour to have unsaid his -cruel speech. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow -rose to their ears from the dark valley below the -windows. And this shattering noise in the silence -of all around was like a light in a dark place, and -shook them both out of their reflections. -</p> - -<p> -"Alas, can I do nothing to help you?" she said, -looking up. -</p> - -<p> -"Madam," replied Denis, with a fine irrelevancy, -"if I have said anything to wound you, believe me, -it was for your own sake and not for mine." -</p> - -<p> -She thanked him with a tearful look. -</p> - -<p> -"I feel your position cruelly," he went on. "The -world has been bitter hard on you. Your uncle is a -disgrace to mankind. Believe me, madam, there is -no young gentleman in all France but would be -glad of my opportunity, to die in doing you a -momentary service." -</p> - -<p> -"I know already that you can be very brave and -generous," she answered. "What I want to know -is whether I can serve you—now or afterward," -she added, with a quaver. -</p> - -<p> -"Most certainly," he answered with a smile. -"Let me sit beside you as if I were a friend, instead -of a foolish intruder; try to forget how awkwardly we -are placed to one another; make my last moments -go pleasantly; and you will do me the chief service -possible." -</p> - -<p> -"You are very gallant," she added, with a yet -deeper sadness ... "very gallant ... and -it somehow pains me. But draw nearer, if -you please; and if you find anything to say to me, -you will at least make certain of a very friendly -listener. Ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu," she broke -forth—"ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu, how can I look -you in the face?" And she fell to weeping again -with a renewed effusion. -</p> - -<p> -"Madam," said Denis, taking her hand in both -of his, "reflect on the little time I have before me, -and the great bitterness into which I am cast by -the sight of your distress. Spare me, in my last -moments, the spectacle of what I cannot cure even -with the sacrifice of my life." -</p> - -<p> -"I am very selfish," answered Blanche. "I will -be braver, Monsieur de Beaulieu, for your sake. -But think if I can do you no kindness in the -future—if you have no friends to whom I could -carry your adieux. Charge me as heavily as -you can; every burden will lighten, by so little, -the invaluable gratitude I owe you. Put it in -my power to do something more for you than -weep." -</p> - -<p> -"My mother is married again, and has a young -family to care for. My brother Guichard will -inherit my fiefs; and if I am not in error, that will -content him amply for my death. Life is a little -vapour that passeth away, as we are told by those -in holy orders. When a man is in a fair way and -sees all life open in front of him, he seems to himself -to make a very important figure in the world. His -horse whinnies to him; the trumpets blow and the -girls look out of windows as he rides into a town -before his company; he receives many assurances of -trust and regard—sometimes by express in a -letter—sometimes face to face, with persons of great -consequence falling on his neck. It is not wonderful if -his head is turned for a time. But once he is dead, -were he as brave as Hercules or as wise as Solomon, -he is soon forgotten. It is not ten years since my -father fell, with many other knights around him, in a -very fierce encounter, and I do not think that any -one of them, nor so much as the name of the fight, -is now remembered. No, no, madam, the nearer -you come to it, you see that death is a dark and -dusty corner, where a man gets into his tomb and -has the door shut after him till the judgment day. -I have few friends just now, and once I am dead I -shall have none." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, Monsieur de Beaulieu!" she exclaimed, "you -forget Blanche de Malétroit." -</p> - -<p> -"You have a sweet nature, madam, and you are -pleased to estimate a little service far beyond its -worth." -</p> - -<p> -"It is not that," she answered. "You mistake -me if you think I am so easily touched by my own -concerns. I say so, because you are the noblest man -I have ever met; because I recognize in you a spirit -that would have made even a common person -famous in the land." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet here I die in a mousetrap—with no more -noise about it than my own squeaking," answered he. -</p> - -<p> -A look of pain crossed her face, and she was silent -for a little while. Then a light came into her eyes, -and with a smile she spoke again. -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot have my champion think meanly of -himself. Anyone who gives his life for another will -be met in Paradise by all the heralds and angels of -the Lord God. And you have no such cause to hang -your head. For ... Pray, do you think me -beautiful?" she asked, with a deep flush. -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed, madam, I do," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"I am glad of that," she answered heartily. "Do -you think there are many men in France who have -been asked in marriage by a beautiful maiden—with -her own lips—and who have refused her to her face? -I know you men would half despise such a triumph; -but believe me, we women know more of what is -precious in love. There is nothing that should set -a person higher in his own esteem; and we women -would prize nothing more dearly." -</p> - -<p> -"You are very good," he said; "but you cannot -make me forget that I was asked in pity and not for -love." -</p> - -<p> -"I am not so sure of that," she replied, holding -down her head. "Hear me to an end, Monsieur de -Beaulieu. I know how you must despise me; I feel -you are right to do so; I am too poor a creature to -occupy one thought of your mind, although, alas! you -must die for me this morning. But when I asked -you to marry me, indeed, and indeed, it was because -I respected and admired you, and loved you with -my whole soul, from the very moment that you took -my part against my uncle. If you had seen yourself, -and how noble you looked, you would pity rather -than despise me. And now," she went on, hurriedly -checking him with her hand, "although I have laid -aside all reserve and told you so much, remember -that I know your sentiments toward me already. -I would not, believe me, being nobly born, weary -you with importunities into consent. I, too, have -a pride of my own; and I declare before the -holy mother of God, if you should now go -back from your word already given, I would no -more marry you than I would marry my uncle's -groom." -</p> - -<p> -Denis smiled a little bitterly. -</p> - -<p> -"It is a small love," he said, "that shies at a little -pride." -</p> - -<p> -She made no answer, although she probably had -her own thoughts. -</p> - -<p> -"Come hither to the window," he said, with a -sigh. "Here is the dawn." -</p> - -<p> -And indeed the dawn was already beginning. The -hollow of the sky was full of essential daylight, -colourless and clean; and the valley underneath was -flooded with a grey reflection. A few thin vapours -clung in the coves of the forest or lay along the -winding course of the river. The scene disengaged a -surprising effect of stillness, which was hardly -interrupted when the cocks began once more to crow -among the steadings. Perhaps the same fellow who -had made so horrid a clangour in the darkness not -half an hour before, now sent up the merriest cheer -to greet the coming day. A little wind went bustling -and eddying among the tree-tops underneath the -windows. And still the daylight kept flooding -insensibly out of the east, which was soon to grow -incandescent and cast up that red-hot cannon-ball, -the rising sun. -</p> - -<p> -Denis looked out over all this with a bit of a shiver. -He had taken her hand, and retained it in his almost -unconsciously. -</p> - -<p> -"Has the day begun already?" she said; and then, -illogically enough: "The night has been so long! -Alas! what shall we say to my uncle when he -returns?" -</p> - -<p> -"What you will," said Denis, and he pressed her -fingers in his. She was silent. -</p> - -<p> -"Blanche," he said, with a swift, uncertain, -passionate utterance, "you have seen whether I fear -death. You must know well enough that I would -as gladly leap out of that window into the empty air -as lay a finger on you without your free and full -consent. But if you care for me at all do not let me -lose my life in a misapprehension; for I love you -better than the whole world; and though I will die -for you blithely, it would be like all the joys of -Paradise to live on and spend my life in your service." -</p> - -<p> -As he stopped speaking, a bell began to ring loudly -in the interior of the house; and a clatter of armour -in the corridor showed that the retainers were -returning to their post, and the two hours were at -an end. -</p> - -<p> -"After all that you have heard?" she whispered, -leaning toward him with her lips and eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"I have heard nothing," he replied. -</p> - -<p> -"The captain's name was Florimond de Champdivers," -she said in his ear. -</p> - -<p> -"I did not hear it," he answered, taking her supple -body in his arms and covering her wet face with -kisses. -</p> - -<p> -A melodious chirping was audible behind, -followed by a beautiful chuckle, and the voice of -Messire de Malétroit wished his new nephew a good -morning. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h3> -II -<br /><br /> -A DOUBLE-DYED DECEIVER -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -O. HENRY -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The trouble began in Laredo. It was the -Llano Kid's fault, for he should have -confined his habit of manslaughter to Mexicans. -But the Kid was past twenty; and to have only -Mexicans to one's credit at twenty is to blush unseen -on the Rio Grande border. -</p> - -<p> -It happened in old Justo Valdo's gambling house. -There was a poker game at which sat players who -were not all friends, as happens often where men -ride in from afar to shoot Folly as she gallops. There -was a row over so small a matter as a pair of queens; -and when the smoke had cleared away it was found -that the Kid had committed an indiscretion, and his -adversary had been guilty of a blunder. For, the -unfortunate combatant, instead of being a Greaser, -was a high-blooded youth from the cow ranches, of -about the Kid's own age and possessed of friends and -champions. His blunder in missing the Kid's right -ear only a sixteenth of an inch when he pulled his gun -did not lessen the indiscretion of the better marksman. -</p> - -<p> -The Kid, not being equipped with a retinue, nor -bountifully supplied with personal admirers and -supporters—on account of a rather umbrageous -reputation, even for the border—considered it not -incompatible with his indisputable gameness to -perform that judicious tractional act known as "pulling -his freight." -</p> - -<p> -Quickly the avengers gathered and sought him. -Three of them overtook him within a rod of the -station. The Kid turned and showed his teeth in -that brilliant but mirthless smile that usually -preceded his deeds of insolence and violence, and his -pursuers fell back without making it necessary for -him even to reach for his weapon. -</p> - -<p> -But in this affair the Kid had not felt the grim -thirst for encounter that usually urged him on to -battle. It had been a purely chance row, born of the -cards and certain epithets impossible for a gentleman -to brook that had passed between the two. The Kid -had rather liked the slim, haughty, brown-faced -young chap whom his bullet had cut off in the first -pride of manhood. And now he wanted no more -blood. He wanted to get away and have a good long -sleep somewhere in the sun on the mesquit grass with -his handkerchief over his face. Even a Mexican -might have crossed his path in safety while he was -in this mood. -</p> - -<p> -The Kid openly boarded the north-bound passenger -train that departed five minutes later. But -at Webb, a few miles out, where it was flagged to -take on a traveller, he abandoned that manner of -escape. There were telegraph stations ahead; and -the Kid looked askance at electricity and steam. -Saddle and spur were his rocks of safety. -</p> - -<p> -The man whom he had shot was a stranger to him. -But the Kid knew that he was of the Coralitos outfit -from Hidalgo; and that the punchers from that -ranch were more relentless and vengeful than -Kentucky feudists when wrong or harm was done to one -of them. So, with the wisdom that has characterized -many great fighters, the Kid decided to pile up as -many leagues as possible of chaparral and pear -between himself and the retaliation of the Coralitos -bunch. -</p> - -<p> -Near the station was a store; and near the store, -scattered among the mesquits and elms, stood the -saddled horses of the customers. Most of them -waited, half asleep, with sagging limbs and drooping -heads. But one, a long-legged roan with a curved -neck, snorted and pawed the turf. Him the Kid -mounted, gripped with his knees, and slapped gently -with the owner's own quirt. -</p> - -<p> -If the slaying of the temerarious card-player had -cast a cloud over the Kid's standing as a good and -true citizen, this last act of his veiled his figure in -the darkest shadows of disrepute. On the Rio -Grande border if you take a man's life you sometimes -take trash; but if you take his horse, you take a -thing the loss of which renders him poor, indeed, and -which enriches you not—if you are caught. For the -Kid there was no turning back now. -</p> - -<p> -With the springing roan under him he felt little -care or uneasiness. After a five-mile gallop he drew -in to the plainsman's jogging trot, and rode -north-eastward toward the Nueces River bottoms. He -knew the country well—its most tortuous and -obscure trails through the great wilderness of brush -and pear, and its camps and lonesome ranches where -one might find safe entertainment. Always he bore -to the east; for the Kid had never seen the ocean, -and he had a fancy to lay his hand upon the mane of -the great gulf, the gamesome colt of the greater -waters. -</p> - -<p> -So after three days he stood on the shore at Corpus -Christi, and looked out across the gentle ripples of a -quiet sea. -</p> - -<p> -Captain Boone, of the schooner <i>Flyaway</i>, stood -near his skiff, which one of his crew was guarding in -the surf. When ready to sail he had discovered that -one of the necessaries of life, in the parallelogrammatic -shape of plug tobacco, had been forgotten. A -sailor had been dispatched for the missing cargo. -Meanwhile the captain paced the sands, chewing -profanely at his pocket store. -</p> - -<p> -A slim, wiry youth in high-heeled boots came down -to the water's edge. His face was boyish, but with -a premature severity that hinted at a man's -experience. His complexion was naturally dark; and the -sun and wind of an outdoor life had burned it to a -coffee brown. His hair was as black and straight as -an Indian's; his face had not yet been upturned to -the humiliation of a razor; his eyes were a cold and -steady blue. He carried his left arm somewhat away -from his body, for pearl-handled .45s are frowned -upon by town marshals, and are a little bulky when -packed in the left armhole of one's vest. He looked -beyond Captain Boone at the gulf with the impersonal -and expressionless dignity of a Chinese emperor. -</p> - -<p> -"Thinkin' of buyin' that'ar gulf, buddy?" asked -the captain, made sarcastic by his narrow escape -from the tobaccoless voyage. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, no," said the Kid gently, "I reckon not. -I never saw it before. I was just looking at it. Not -thinking of selling it, are you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not this trip," said the captain. "I'll send it to -you C.O.D. when I get back to Buenas Tierras. -Here comes that capstanfooted lubber with the -chewin'. I ought to've weighed anchor an hour -ago." -</p> - -<p> -"Is that your ship out there?" asked the Kid. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, yes," answered the captain, "if you want -to call a schooner a ship, and I don't mind lyin'. But -you better say Miller and Gonzales, owners, and -ordinary plain, Billy-be-damned old Samuel -K. Boone, skipper." -</p> - -<p> -"Where are you going to?" asked the refugee. -</p> - -<p> -"Buenas Tierras, coast of South America—I forgot -what they called the country the last time I was -there. Cargo—lumber, corrugated iron, and machetes." -</p> - -<p> -"What kind of a country is it?" asked the Kid—"hot -or cold?" -</p> - -<p> -"Warmish, buddy," said the captain. "But a -regular Paradise Lost for elegance of scenery and -be-yooty of geography. Ye're wakened every morning -by the sweet singin' of red birds with seven purple -tails, and the sighin' of breezes in the posies and -roses. And the inhabitants never work, for they can -reach out and pick steamer baskets of choicest -hothouse fruit without gettin' out of bed. And -there's no Sunday and no ice and no rent and no -troubles and no use and no nothin'. It's a great -country for a man to go to sleep with, and wait for -somethin' to turn up. The bananays and oranges -and hurricanes and pineapples that ye eat comes -from there." -</p> - -<p> -"That sounds to me!" said the Kid, at last betraying -interest. "What'll the expressage be to take me -out there with you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Twenty-four dollars," said Captain Boone; -"grub and transportation. Second cabin. I haven't -got a first cabin." -</p> - -<p> -"You've got my company," said the Kid, pulling -out a buckskin bag. -</p> - -<p> -With three hundred dollars he had gone to Laredo -for his regular "blowout." The duel in Valdos's had -cut short his season of hilarity, but it had left him -with nearly $200 for aid in the flight that it had -made necessary. -</p> - -<p> -"All right, buddy," said the captain. "I hope -your ma won't blame me for this little childish -escapade of yours." He beckoned to one of the boat's -crew. "Let Sanchez lift you out to the skiff so you -won't get your feet wet." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Thacker, the United States consul at Buenas -Tierras, was not yet drunk. It was only eleven -o'clock; and he never arrived at his desired state of -beatitude—a state where he sang ancient maudlin -vaudeville songs and pelted his screaming parrot -with banana peels—until the middle of the afternoon. -So, when he looked up from his hammock at the -sound of a slight cough, and saw the Kid standing -in the door of the consulate, he was still in a condition, -to extend the hospitality and courtesy due from the -representative of a great nation. "Don't disturb -yourself," said the Kid easily. "I just dropped in. -They told me it was customary to light at your camp -before starting in to round up the town. I just came -in on a ship from Texas." -</p> - -<p> -"Glad to see you, Mr.——," said the consul. -</p> - -<p> -The Kid laughed. -</p> - -<p> -"Sprague Dalton," he said. "It sounds funny to -me to hear it. I'm called the Llano Kid in the Rio -Grande country." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm Thacker," said the consul. "Take that -cane-bottom chair. Now if you've come to invest, -you want somebody to advise you. These dingies -will cheat you out of the gold in your teeth if you -don't understand their ways. Try a cigar?" -</p> - -<p> -"Much obliged," said the Kid, "but if it wasn't -for my corn shucks and the little bag in my back -pocket I couldn't live a minute." He took out his -"makings," and rolled a cigarette. -</p> - -<p> -"They speak Spanish here," said the consul. -"You'll need an interpreter. If there's anything -I can do, why, I'd be delighted. If you're buying -fruit lands or looking for a concession of any sort, -you'll want somebody who knows the ropes to look -out for you." -</p> - -<p> -"I speak Spanish," said the Kid, "about nine -times better than I do English. Everybody speaks -it on the range where I come from. And I'm not -in the market for anything." -</p> - -<p> -"You speak Spanish?" said Thacker thoughtfully. -He regarded the Kid absorbedly. -</p> - -<p> -"You look like a Spaniard, too," he continued. -"And you're from Texas. And you can't be more -than twenty or twenty-one. I wonder if you've -got any nerve." -</p> - -<p> -"You got a deal of some kind to put through?" -asked the Texan, with unexpected shrewdness. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you open to a proposition?" said Thacker. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the use to deny it?" said the Kid. "I -got into a little gun frolic down in Laredo and -plugged a white man. There wasn't any Mexican -handy. And I come down to your parrot-and-monkey -range just for to smell the morning-glories -and marigolds. Now, do you <i>sabe</i>?" -</p> - -<p> -Thacker got up and closed the door. -</p> - -<p> -"Let me see your hand," he said. -</p> - -<p> -He took the Kid's left hand, and examined the -back of it closely. -</p> - -<p> -"I can do it," he said excitedly. "Your flesh is -as hard as wood and as healthy as a baby's. It will -heal in a week." -</p> - -<p> -"If it's a fist fight you want to back me for," said -the Kid, "don't put your money up yet. Make it -gun work, and I'll keep you company. But no -barehanded scrapping, like ladies at a tea-party, -for me." -</p> - -<p> -"It's easier than that," said Thacker. "Just -step here, will you?" -</p> - -<p> -Through the window he pointed to a two-story -white-stuccoed house with wide galleries rising -amid the deep-green tropical foliage on a wooded -hill that sloped gently from the sea. -</p> - -<p> -"In that house," said Thacker, "a fine old Castilian -gentleman and his wife are yearning to gather -you into their arms and fill your pockets with -money. Old Santos Urique lives there. He owns -half the gold-mines in the country." -</p> - -<p> -"You haven't been eating loco weed, have you?" -asked the Kid. -</p> - -<p> -"Sit down again," said Thacker, "and I'll tell -you. Twelve years ago they lost a kid. No, he -didn't die—although most of 'em here do from drinking -the surface water. He was a wild little devil -even if he wasn't but eight years old. Everybody -knows about it. Some Americans who were through -here prospecting for gold had letters to Seńor Urique, -and the boy was a favourite with them. They -filled his head with big stories about the States; and -about a month after they left, the kid disappeared, -too. He was supposed to have stowed himself away -among the banana bunches on a fruit steamer, and -gone to New Orleans. He was seen once afterward -in Texas, it was thought, but they never heard -anything more of him. Old Urique has spent thousands -of dollars having him looked for. The madam was -broken up worst of all. The kid was her life. She -wears mourning yet. But they say she believes -he'll come back to her some day, and never gives up -hope. On the back of the boy's left hand was -tattooed a flying eagle carrying a spear in his claws. -That's old Urique's coat of arms or something that -he inherited in Spain." -</p> - -<p> -The Kid raised his left hand slowly and gazed at -it curiously. -</p> - -<p> -"That's it," said Thacker, reaching behind the -official desk for his bottle of smuggled brandy. -"You're not so slow. I can do it. What was I -consul at Sandakan for? I never knew till now. In -a week I'll have the eagle bird with the frog-sticker -blended in so you'd think you were born with it. -I brought a set of the needles and ink just -because I was sure you'd drop in some day, Mr. Dalton." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, hell," said the Kid. "I thought I told you -my name!" -</p> - -<p> -"All right, 'Kid,' then. It won't be that long. -How does Seńorito Urique sound, for a change?" -</p> - -<p> -"I never played son any that I remember of," -said the Kid. "If I had any parents to mention -they went over the divide about the time I -gave my first bleat. What is the plan of your -round-up?" -</p> - -<p> -Thacker leaned back against the wall and held -his glass up to the light. -</p> - -<p> -"We've come now," said he, "to the question of -how far you're willing to go in a little matter of the -sort." -</p> - -<p> -"I told you why I came down here," said the Kid -simply. -</p> - -<p> -"A good answer," said the consul. "But you -won't have to go that far. Here's the scheme. -After I get the trademark tattooed on your hand -I'll notify old Urique. In the meantime I'll furnish -you with all of the family history I can find out, -so you can be studying up points to talk about. -You've got the looks, you speak the Spanish, you -know the facts, you can tell about Texas, you've -got the tattoo mark. When I notify them that -the rightful heir has returned and is waiting to -know whether he will be received and pardoned, -what will happen? They'll simply rush down here -and fall on your neck, and the curtain goes down -for refreshments and a stroll in the lobby." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm waiting," said the Kid. "I haven't had -my saddle off in your camp long, pardner, and I -never met you before; but if you intend to let it go -at a parental blessing, why, I'm mistaken in my -man, that's all." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks," said the consul. "I haven't met -anybody in a long time that keeps up with an -argument as well as you do. The rest of it is simple. -If they take you in only for a while it's long enough. -Don't give 'em time to hunt up the strawberry -mark on your left shoulder. Old Urique keeps -anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000 in his house all the -time in a little safe that you could open with a shoe -buttoner. Get it. My skill as a tattooer is worth -half the boodle. We go halves and catch a tramp -steamer for Rio Janeiro. Let the United States go -to pieces if it can't get along without my services. -<i>Que dice, seńor?</i>" -</p> - -<p> -"It sounds to me!" said the Kid, nodding his -head. "I'm out for the dust." -</p> - -<p> -"All right, then," said Thacker. "You'll have -to keep close until we get the bird on you. You can -live in the back room here. I do my own cooking, -and I'll make you as comfortable as a parsimonious -Government will allow me." -</p> - -<p> -Thacker had set the time at a week, but it was two -weeks before the design that he patiently tattooed -upon the Kid's hand was to his notion. And then -Thacker called a <i>muchacho</i>, and dispatched this -note to the intended victim: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> - EL SEŃOR DON SANTOS URIQUE,<br /> - La Casa Blanca,<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -MY DEAR SIR: -</p> - -<p> -I beg permission to inform you that there is in my house as a -temporary guest a young man who arrived in Buenas Tierras -from the United States some days ago. Without wishing to -excite any hopes that may not be realized, I think there is a -possibility of his being your long-absent son. It might be well -for you to call and see him. If he is, it is my opinion that his -intention was to return to his home, but upon arriving here, his -courage failed him from doubts as to how he would be received. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - Your true servant,<br /> - THOMPSON THACKER. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Half an hour afterward—quick time for Buenas -Tierras—Seńor Urique's ancient landau drove to the -consul's door, with the barefooted coachman beating -and shouting at the team of fat, awkward horses. -</p> - -<p> -A tall man with a white moustache alighted, and -assisted to the ground a lady who was dressed and -veiled in unrelieved black. -</p> - -<p> -The two hastened inside, and were met by Thacker -with his best diplomatic bow. By his desk stood a -slender young man with clear-cut, sunbrowned -features and smoothly brushed black hair. -</p> - -<p> -Seńora Urique threw back her heavy veil with a -quick gesture. She was past middle age, and her -hair was beginning to silver, but her full, proud figure -and clear olive skin retained traces of the beauty -peculiar to the Basque province. But, once you had -seen her eyes, and comprehended the great sadness -that was revealed in their deep shadows and hopeless -expression, you saw that the woman lived only in -some memory. -</p> - -<p> -She bent upon the young man a long look of the -most agonized questioning. Then her great black -eyes turned, and her gaze rested upon his left hand. -And then with a sob, not loud, but seeming to shake -the room, she cried "<i>Hijo mio!</i>" and caught the -Llano Kid to her heart. -</p> - -<p> -A month afterward the Kid came to the consulate -in response to a message sent by Thacker. -</p> - -<p> -He looked the young Spanish caballero. His -clothes were imported, and the wiles of the jewellers -had not been spent upon him in vain. A more than -respectable diamond shone on his finger as he rolled -a shuck cigarette. -</p> - -<p> -"What's doing?" asked Thacker. -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing much," said the Kid calmly. "I eat -my first iguana steak to-day. They're them big -lizards, you sabe? I reckon, though, that frijoles -and side bacon would do me about as well. Do you -care for iguanas, Thacker?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, nor for some other kinds of reptiles," said -Thacker. -</p> - -<p> -It was three in the afternoon, and in another hour -he would be in his state of beatitude. -</p> - -<p> -"It's time you were making good, sonny," he -went on, with an ugly look on his reddened face. -"You're not playing up to me square. You've been -the prodigal son for four weeks now, and you could -have had veal for every meal on a gold dish if you'd -wanted it. Now, Mr. Kid, do you think it's right -to leave me out so long on a husk diet? What's the -trouble? Don't you get your filial eyes on anything -that looks like cash in the Casa Blanca? Don't -tell me you don't. Everybody knows where old -Urique keeps his stuff. It's U.S. currency, too; -he don't accept anything else. What's doing? -Don't say 'nothing' this time." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, sure," said the Kid, admiring his diamond, -"there's plenty of money up there. I'm no judge -of collateral in bunches, but I will undertake for to -say that I've seen the rise of $50,000 at a time in -that tin grub box that my adopted father calls his -safe. And he lets me carry the key sometimes just -to show me that he knows I'm the real little -Francisco that strayed from the herd a long time -ago." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Thacker -angrily. "Don't you forget that I can upset your -apple-cart any day I want to. If old Urique knew -you were an impostor, what sort of things would -happen to you? Oh, you don't know this country, -Mr. Texas Kid. The laws here have got mustard -spread between 'em. These people here'd stretch -you out like a frog that had been stepped on, and -give you about fifty sticks at every corner of the -plaza. And they'd wear every stick out, too. -What was left of you they'd feed to alligators." -</p> - -<p> -"I might as well tell you now, pardner," said the -Kid, sliding down low on his steamer chair, "that -things are going to stay just as they are. They're -about right now." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean?" asked Thacker, rattling -the bottom of his glass on his desk. -</p> - -<p> -"The scheme's off," said the Kid. "And whenever -you have the pleasure of speaking to me address -me as Don Francisco Urique. I'll guarantee I'll -answer to it. We'll let Colonel Urique keep his -money. His little tin safe is as good as the -time-locker in the First National Bank of Laredo as far -as you and me are concerned." -</p> - -<p> -"You're going to throw me down, then, are you?" -said the consul. -</p> - -<p> -"Sure," said the Kid cheerfully. "Throw you -down. That's it. And now I'll tell you why. -The first night I was up at the colonel's house they -introduced me to a bedroom. No blankets on the -floor—a real room, with a bed and things in it. -And before I was asleep, in comes this artificial -mother of mine and tucks in the covers. 'Panchito,' -she says, 'my little lost one, God has brought -you back to me. I bless His name forever.' It was -that, or some truck like that, she said. And down -comes a drop or two of rain and hits me on the nose. -And all that stuck by me, Mr. Thacker. And it's -been that way ever since. And it's got to stay that -way. Don't you think that it's for what's in it for -me, either, that I say so. If you have any such -ideas, keep 'em to yourself. I haven't had much -truck with women in my life, and no mothers to -speak of, but here's a lady that we've got to keep -fooled. Once she stood it; twice she won't. I'm a -low-down wolf, and the devil may have sent me on -this trail instead of God, but I'll travel it to the end. -And now, don't forget that I'm Don Francisco -Urique whenever you happen to mention my -name." -</p> - -<p> -"I'll expose you to-day, you—you double-dyed -traitor," stammered Thacker. -</p> - -<p> -The Kid arose and, without violence, took Thacker -by the throat with a hand of steel, and shoved him -slowly into a corner. Then he drew from under his -left arm his pearl-handled .45 and poked the cold -muzzle of it against the consul's mouth. -</p> - -<p> -"I told you why I come here," he said, with his -old freezing smile. "If I leave here, you'll be the -reason. Never forget it, pardner. Now, what is -my name?" -</p> - -<p> -"Er—Don Francisco Urique," gasped Thacker. -</p> - -<p> -From outside came a sound of wheels, and the -shouting of some one, and the sharp thwacks of a -wooden whipstock upon the backs of fat horses. -</p> - -<p> -The Kid put up his gun, and walked toward the -door. But he turned again and came back to the -trembling Thacker, and held up his left hand with -its back toward the consul. -</p> - -<p> -"There's one more reason," he said slowly, "why -things have got to stand as they are. The fellow I -killed in Laredo had one of them same pictures on his -left hand." -</p> - -<p> -Outside, the ancient landau of Don Santos Urique -rattled to the door. The coachman ceased his -bellowing. Seńora Urique, in a voluminous gay gown of -white lace and flying ribbons, leaned forward with a -happy look in her great soft eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you within, dear son?" she called, in the -rippling Castilian. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Madre mia, yo vengo</i> [mother, I come]," -answered the young Don Francisco Urique. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h3> -III -<br /><br /> -THE BOLD DRAGOON -<br /> -OR THE -<br /> -ADVENTURE OF MY GRANDFATHER -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -WASHINGTON IRVING -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -My grandfather was a bold dragoon, for it's a -profession, d'ye see, that has run in the -family. All my forefathers have been -dragoons, and died on the field of honour, except -myself, and I hope my posterity may be able to say the -same; however, I don't mean to be vainglorious. -Well, my grandfather, as I said, was a bold dragoon, -and had served in the Low Countries. In fact, he -was one of that very army which, according to my -uncle Toby, swore so terribly in Flanders. He could -swear a good stick himself; and moreover was the -very man that introduced the doctrine Corporal -Trim mentions of radical heat and radical moisture; -or, in other words, the mode of keeping out the -damps of ditchwater by burnt brandy. Be that as it -may, it's nothing to the purport of my story. I only -tell it to show you that my grandfather was a man -not easily to be humbugged. He had seen service, -or, according to his own phrase, he had seen the -devil—and that's saying every thing. -</p> - -<p> -Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was on his way -to England, for which he intended to embark from -Ostend—bad luck to the place! for one where I was -kept by storms and headwinds for three long days, -and the devil of a jolly companion or pretty girl to -comfort me. Well, as I was saying, my grandfather -was on his way to England, or rather to Ostend—no -matter which, it's all the same. So one evening, -towards nightfall, he rode jollily into Bruges.—Very -like you all know Bruges, gentlemen; a queer -old-fashioned Flemish town, once, they say, a great -place for trade and money-making in old times, when -the Mynheers were in their glory; but almost as -large and as empty as an Irishman's pocket at the -present day.—Well, gentlemen, it was at the time -of the annual fair. All Bruges was crowded; and -the canals swarmed with Dutch boats, and the -streets swarmed with Dutch merchants; and there -was hardly any getting along for goods, wares, and -merchandise, and peasants in big breeches, and -women in half a score of petticoats. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather rode jollily along, in his easy, -slashing way, for he was a saucy, sunshiny fellow—staring -about him at the motley crowd, and the old -houses with gable ends to the street, and storks' -nests in the chimneys; winking at the yafrows who -showed their faces at the windows, and joking the -women right and left in the street; all of whom -laughed, and took it in amazing good part; for though -he did not know a word of the language, yet he had -always a knack of making himself understood among -the women. -</p> - -<p> -Well, gentlemen, it being the time of the annual -fair, all the town was crowded, every inn and tavern -full, and my grandfather applied in vain from one -to the other for admittance. At length he rode up -to an old rickety inn, that looked ready to fall to -pieces, and which all the rats would have run away -from, if they could have found room in any other -house to put their heads. It was just such a queer -building as you see in Dutch pictures, with a tall -roof that reached up into the clouds, and as many -garrets, one over the other, as the seven heavens of -Mahomet. Nothing had saved it from tumbling -down but a stork's nest on the chimney, which -always brings good luck to a house in the Low -Countries; and at the very time of my grandfather's -arrival, there were two of these long-legged birds of -grace standing like ghosts on the chimney-top. -Faith, but they've kept the house on its legs to this -very day, for you may see it any time you pass -through Bruges, as it stands there yet, only it is -turned into a brewery of strong Flemish beer,—at -least it was so when I came that way after the battle -of Waterloo. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather eyed the house curiously as he -approached. It might not have altogether struck -his fancy, had he not seen in large letters over the -door, -</p> - -<p class="t3"> - HEER VERKOOPT MAN GOEDEN DRANK.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -My grandfather had learnt enough of the language -to know that the sign promised good liquor. "This -is the house for me," said he, stopping short before -the door. -</p> - -<p> -The sudden appearance of a dashing dragoon was -an event in an old inn frequented only by the -peaceful sons of traffic. A rich burgher of Antwerp, a -stately ample man in a broad Flemish hat, and who -was the great man and great patron of the establishment, -sat smoking a clean long pipe on one side of -the door; a fat little distiller of Geneva, from -Schiedam, sat smoking on the other; and the bottle-nosed -host stood in the door, and the comely hostess, -in crimped cap, beside him; and the hostess's daughter, -a plump Flanders lass, with long gold pendants -in her ears, was at a side window. -</p> - -<p> -"Humph!" said the rich burgher of Antwerp, with -sulky glance at the stranger. -</p> - -<p> -"De duyvel!" said the fat little distiller of Schiedam. -</p> - -<p> -The landlord saw, with the quick glance of a -publican, that the new guest was not at all to -the taste of the old ones; and, to tell the truth, -he did not like my grandfather's saucy eye. He -shook his head. "Not a garret in the house but was -full." -</p> - -<p> -"Not a garret!" echoed the landlady. -</p> - -<p> -"Not a garret!" echoed the daughter. -</p> - -<p> -The burgher of Antwerp, and the little distiller of -Schiedam, continued to smoke their pipes sullenly, -eyeing the enemy askance from under their broad -hats, but said nothing. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather was not a man to be browbeaten. -He threw the reins on his horse's neck, cocked his -head on one side, stuck one arm akimbo,—"Faith -and troth!" said he, "but I'll sleep in this house this -very night."—As he said this he gave a slap on his -thigh, by way of emphasis—the slap went to the -landlady's heart. -</p> - -<p> -He followed up the vow by jumping off his horse, -and making his way past the staring Mynheers into -the public room.—May be you've been in the -bar-room of an old Flemish inn—faith, but a handsome -chamber it was as you'd wish to see; with a brick -floor, and a great fireplace, with the whole Bible -history in glazed tiles; and then the mantelpiece, -pitching itself head foremost out of the wall, with a -whole regiment of cracked teapots and earthen jugs -paraded on it; not to mention half a dozen great -Delft platters, hung about the room by way of -pictures; and the little bar in one corner, and the -bouncing bar-maid inside of it, with a red calico -cap, and yellow ear-drops. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather snapped his fingers over his -head, as he cast an eye round the room—"Faith, -this is the very house I've been looking after," said -he. -</p> - -<p> -There was some further show of resistance on the -part of the garrison; but my grandfather was an old -soldier, and an Irishman to boot, and not easily -repulsed, especially after he had got into the fortress. -So he blarneyed the landlord, kissed the landlord's -wife, tickled the landlord's daughter, chucked the -bar-maid under the chin; and it was agreed on all -hands that it would be a thousand pities, and a -burning shame into the bargain, to turn such a bold -dragoon into the streets. So they laid their heads -together, that is to say, my grandfather and the -landlady, and it was at length agreed to accommodate -him with an old chamber, that had been for -some time shut up. -</p> - -<p> -"Some say it's haunted," whispered the landlord's -daughter; "but you are a bold dragoon, and I dare -say don't fear ghosts." -</p> - -<p> -"The devil a bit!" said my grandfather, pinching -her plump cheek. "But if I should be troubled -by ghosts, I've been to the Red Sea in my time, -and have a pleasant way of laying them, my -darling." -</p> - -<p> -And then he whispered something to the girl which -made her laugh, and give him a good-humoured box -on the ear. In short, there was nobody knew better -how to make his way among the petticoats than my -grandfather. -</p> - -<p> -In a little while, as was his usual way, he took -complete possession of the house, swaggering all -over it; into the stable to look after his horse, into -the kitchen to look after his supper. He had -something to say or do with everyone; smoked with the -Dutchman, drank with the Germans, slapped the -landlord on the shoulder, romped with his daughter -and the bar-maid:—never, since the days of Alley -Croaker, had such a rattling blade been seen. The -landlord stared at him with astonishment; the -landlord's daughter hung her head and giggled -whenever he came near; and as he swaggered along -the corridor, with his sword trailing by his side, the -maids looked after him, and whispered to one -another, "What a proper man!" -</p> - -<p> -At supper, my grandfather took command of the -table-d'hôte as though he had been at home; helped -everybody, not forgetting himself; talked with -everyone, whether he understood their language or -not; and made his way into the intimacy of the rich -burgher of Antwerp, who had never been known to -be sociable with anyone during his life. In fact, -he revolutionised the whole establishment, and gave -it such a rouse, that the very house reeled with it. -He outsat everyone at table, excepting the little fat -distiller of Schiedam, who sat soaking a long time -before he broke forth; but when he did, he was a very -devil incarnate. He took a violent affection for my -grandfather; so they sat drinking and smoking, and -telling stories, and singing Dutch and Irish songs, -without understanding a word each other said, until -the little Hollander was fairly swamped with his own -gin and water, and carried off to bed, whooping and -hickuping, and trolling the burden of a Low Dutch -love-song. -</p> - -<p> -Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was shown to -his quarters up a large staircase, composed of loads -of hewn timber; and through long rigmarole passages, -hung with blackened paintings of fish, and fruit, and -game, and country frolics, and huge kitchens, and -portly burgomasters, such as you see about old-fashioned -Flemish inns, till at length he arrived at -his room. -</p> - -<p> -An old-time chamber it was, sure enough, and -crowded with all kinds of trumpery. It looked like -an infirmary for decayed and superannuated furniture, -where everything diseased or disabled was sent -to nurse or to be forgotten. Or rather it might be -taken for a general congress of old legitimate movables, -where every kind and country had a representative. -No two chairs were alike. Such high backs -and low backs, and leather bottoms, and worsted -bottoms, and straw bottoms, and no bottoms; and -cracked marble tables with curiously carved legs, -holding balls in their claws, as though they were -going to play at nine-pins. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather made a bow to the motley assemblage -as he entered, and, having undressed himself, -placed his light in the fireplace, asking pardon of the -tongs, which seemed to be making love to the shovel -in the chimney-corner, and whispering soft nonsense -in its ear. -</p> - -<p> -The rest of the guests were by this time sound -asleep, for your Mynheers are huge sleepers. The -housemaids, one by one, crept up yawning to their -attics; and not a female head in the inn was laid on a -pillow that night without dreaming of the bold -dragoon. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather, for his part, got into bed, and -drew over him one of those great bags of down, -under which they smother a man in the Low Countries; -and there he lay, melting between two feather -beds, like an anchovy sandwich between two slices of -toast and butter. He was a warm complexioned -man, and this smothering played the very deuce -with him. So, sure enough, in a little time it seemed -as if a legion of imps were twitching at him, and all -the blood in his veins was in a fever heat. -</p> - -<p> -He lay still, however, until all the house was -quiet, excepting the snoring of the Mynheers from -the different chambers; who answered one another -in all kinds of tones and cadences, like so many -bullfrogs in a swamp. The quieter the house became, -the more unquiet became my grandfather. He -waxed warmer and warmer, until at length the bed -became too hot to hold him. -</p> - -<p> -"May be the maid had warmed it too much?" -said the curious gentleman, inquiringly. -</p> - -<p> -"I rather think the contrary," replied the Irishman. -"But, be that as it may, it grew too hot for -my grandfather." -</p> - -<p> -"Faith, there's no standing this any longer," says -he. So he jumped out of bed and went strolling -about the house. -</p> - -<p> -"What for?" said the inquisitive gentleman. -</p> - -<p> -"Why to cool himself, to be sure—or perhaps to -find a more comfortable bed—or perhaps— But no -matter what he went for—he never mentioned—and -there's no use in taking up our time in conjecturing." -</p> - -<p> -Well, my grandfather had been for some time -absent from his room, and was returning, perfectly -cool, when just as he reached the door, he heard -a strange noise within. He paused and listened. It -seemed as if someone were trying to hum a tune in -defiance of the asthma. He recollected the report of -the room being haunted; but he was no believer in -ghosts, so he pushed the door gently open and peeped -in. -</p> - -<p> -Egad, gentlemen, there was a gambol carrying on -within enough to have astonished St. Anthony himself. -By the light of the fire he saw a pale weazen-faced -fellow, in a long flannel gown and a tall white -night-cap with a tassel to it, who sat by the fire with -a bellows under his arm by way of bagpipe, from -which he forced the asthmatical music that had -bothered my grandfather. As he played, too, he -kept twitching about with a thousand queer -contortions, nodding his head, and bobbing about his -tasselled night-cap. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather thought this very odd and mighty -presumptuous, and was about to demand what -business he had to play his wind instrument in -another gentleman's quarters, when a new cause of -astonishment met his eye. From the opposite side -of the room a long-backed, bandy-legged chair -covered with leather, and studded all over in a -cox-combical fashion with little brass nails, got suddenly -into motion, thrust out first a claw-foot, then a -crooked arm, and at length, making a leg, slided -gracefully up to an easy chair of tarnished brocade, -with a hole in its bottom, and led it gallantly out in -a ghostly minuet about the floor. -</p> - -<p> -The musician now played fiercer and fiercer, and -bobbed his head and his night-cap about like mad. -By degrees the dancing mania seemed to seize upon -all the other pieces of furniture. The antique, -long-bodied chairs paired off in couples and led down a -country dance; a three-legged stool danced a horn-pipe, -though horribly puzzled by its supernumerary -limb; while the amorous tongs seized the shovel -round the waist, and whirled it about the room in a -German waltz. In short, all the movables got in -motion: pirouetting hands across, right and left, -like so many devils; all except a great clothes-press, -which kept courtesying and courtesying in a corner, -like a dowager, in exquisite time to the music; being -rather too corpulent to dance, or, perhaps at a loss -for a partner. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather concluded the latter to be the -reason; so being, like a true Irishman, devoted to -the sex, and at all times ready for a frolic, he bounced -into the room, called to the musician to strike up -Paddy O'Rafferty, capered up to the clothes-press, and -seized upon the two handles to lead her -out:——when—whirr! the whole revel was at an end. The -chairs, tables, tongs, and shovel slunk in an instant -as quietly into their places as if nothing had -happened, and the musician vanished up the chimney, -leaving the bellows behind him in his hurry. My -grandfather found himself seated in the middle of -the floor with the clothes-press sprawling before -him, and the two handles jerked off, and in his hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Then, after all, this was a mere dream!" said the -inquisitive gentleman. -</p> - -<p> -"The divil a bit of a dream!" replied the Irishman. -"There never was a truer fact in this world. Faith, -I should have liked to see any man tell my grandfather -it was a dream." -</p> - -<p> -Well, gentlemen, as the clothes-press was a mighty -heavy body, and my grandfather likewise, particularly -in rear, you may easily suppose that two such -heavy bodies coming to the ground would make a bit -of a noise. Faith, the old mansion shook as though -it had mistaken it for an earthquake. The whole -garrison was alarmed. The landlord, who slept -below, hurried up with a candle to inquire the cause, -but with all his haste his daughter had arrived at -the scene of uproar before him. The landlord was -followed by the landlady, who was followed by the -bouncing bar-maid, who was followed by the simpering -chambermaids, all holding together, as well as -they could, such garments as they first laid hands on; -but all in a terrible hurry to see what the deuce was to -pay in the chamber of the bold dragoon. -</p> - -<p> -My grandfather related the marvellous scene he -had witnessed, and the broken handles of the prostrate -clothes-press bore testimony to the fact. There -was no contesting such evidence; particularly with -a lad of my grandfather's complexion, who seemed -able to make good every word either with sword or -shillelah. So the landlord scratched his head and -looked silly, as he was apt to do when puzzled. The -landlady scratched—no, she did not scratch her head -but she knit her brow, and did not seem half pleased -with the explanation. But the landlady's daughter -corroborated it by recollecting that the last person -who had dwelt in that chamber was a famous juggler -who died of St. Vitus's dance, and had no doubt -infected all the furniture. -</p> - -<p> -This set all things to rights, particularly when the -chambermaids declared that they had all witnessed -strange carryings on in that room; and as they -declared this "upon their honours," there could not -remain a doubt upon the subject. -</p> - -<p> -"And did your grandfather go to bed again in that -room?" said the inquisitive gentleman. -</p> - -<p> -"That's more than I can tell. Where he passed -the rest of the night was a secret he never disclosed. -In fact, though he had seen much service, he was but -indifferently acquainted with geography, and apt to -make blunders in his travels about inns at night, -which it would have puzzled him sadly to account -for in the morning." -</p> - -<p> -"Was he ever apt to walk in his sleep?" said the -knowing old gentleman. -</p> - -<p> -"Never that I heard of." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h3> -IV -<br /><br /> -THE BET* -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -ANTON CHEKHOV -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -*Reprinted by permission of John W. Luce and Company. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -I -</p> - -<p> -It was a dark autumn night. The old banker -was pacing from corner to corner of his study, -recalling to his mind the party he gave in the -autumn fifteen years ago. There were many clever -people at the party and much interesting conversation. -They talked among other things of capital -punishment. The guests, among them not a -few scholars and journalists, for the most part -disapproved of capital punishment. They found it -obsolete as a means of punishment, unfitted to a -Christian state and immoral. Some of them -thought that capital punishment should be replaced -universally by life-imprisonment. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't agree with you," said the host. "I -myself have experienced neither capital punishment -nor life-imprisonment, but if one may judge <i>a priori</i>, -then in my opinion capital punishment is more -moral and more humane than imprisonment. Execution -kills instantly, life-imprisonment kills by degrees. -Who is the more humane executioner, one who kills -you in a few seconds or one who draws the life out of -you incessantly, for years?" -</p> - -<p> -"They're both equally immoral," remarked one -of the guests, "because their purpose is the same, to -take away life. The state is not God. It has no -right to take away that which it cannot give back, -if it should so desire." -</p> - -<p> -Among the company was a lawyer, a young man -of about twenty-five. On being asked his opinion, -he said: -</p> - -<p> -"Capital punishment and life-imprisonment are -equally immoral; but if I were offered the choice -between them, I would certainly choose the second. -It's better to live somehow than not to live -at all." -</p> - -<p> -There ensued a lively discussion. The banker -who was then younger and more nervous suddenly -lost his temper, banged his fist on the table, and -turning to the young lawyer, cried out: -</p> - -<p> -"It's a lie. I bet you two millions you wouldn't -stick in a cell even for five years." -</p> - -<p> -"If that's serious," replied the lawyer, "then -I bet I'll stay not five but fifteen." -</p> - -<p> -"Fifteen! Done!" cried the banker. "Gentlemen, -I stake two millions." -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed. You stake two millions, I my freedom," -said the lawyer. -</p> - -<p> -So this wild, ridiculous bet came to pass. The -banker, who at that time had too many millions to -count, spoiled and capricious, was beside himself -with rapture. During supper he said to the lawyer -jokingly: -</p> - -<p> -"Come to your senses, young man, before it's -too late. Two millions are nothing to me, but you -stand to lose three or four of the best years of your -life. I say three or four, because you'll never stick -it out any longer. Don't forget either, you -unhappy man, that voluntary is much heavier than -enforced imprisonment. The idea that you have -the right to free yourself at any moment will poison -the whole of your life in the cell. I pity you." -</p> - -<p> -And now the banker pacing from corner to corner -recalled all this and asked himself: -</p> - -<p> -"Why did I make this bet? What's the good? -The lawyer loses fifteen years of his life and I throw -away two millions. Will it convince people that -capital punishment is worse or better than imprisonment -for life? No, No! all stuff and rubbish. On -my part, it was the caprice of a well-fed man; on the -lawyer's, pure greed of gold." -</p> - -<p> -He recollected further what happened after the -evening party. It was decided that the lawyer -must undergo his imprisonment under the strictest -observation, in a garden-wing of the banker's house. -It was agreed that during the period he would be -deprived of the right to cross the threshold, to see -living people, to hear human voices, and to receive -letters and newspapers. He was permitted to have -a musical instrument, to read books, to write letters, -to drink wine and smoke tobacco. By the agreement -he could communicate, but only in silence -with the outside world through a little window -specially constructed for this purpose. Everything -necessary, books, music, wine, he could receive -in any quantity by sending a note through the -window. The agreement provided for all the -minutest details, which made the confinement strictly -solitary, and it obliged the lawyer to remain exactly -fifteen years from twelve o'clock of November 14th -1870 to twelve o'clock of November 14th 1885. The -least attempt on his part to violate the conditions, -to escape if only for two minutes before the time -freed the banker from the obligation to pay him -the two millions. -</p> - -<p> -During the first year of imprisonment, the lawyer, -as far as it was possible to judge from his short -notes, suffered terribly from loneliness and boredom. -From his wing day and night came the sound of the -piano. He rejected wine and tobacco. "Wine," -he wrote, "excites desires, and desires are the chief -foes of a prisoner; besides, nothing is more boring -than to drink good wine alone," and tobacco spoils -the air in his room. During the first year the -lawyer was sent books of a light character; novels -with a complicated love interest, stories of crime -and fantasy, comedies, and so on. -</p> - -<p> -In the second year the piano was heard no longer -and the lawyer asked only for classics. In the -fifth year music was heard again, and the prisoner -asked for wine. Those who watched him said that -during the whole of that year he was only eating, -drinking, and lying on his bed. He yawned often -and talked angrily to himself. Books he did not read. -Sometimes at nights he would sit down to write. He -would write for a long time and tear it all up in the -morning. More than once he was heard to weep. -</p> - -<p> -In the second half of the sixth year, the prisoner -began zealously to study languages, philosophy, and -history. He fell on these subjects so hungrily that -the banker hardly had time to get books enough for -him. In the space of four years about six hundred -volumes were bought at his request. It was while -that passion lasted that the banker received the -following letter from the prisoner: "My dear -gaoler, I am writing these lines in six languages. -Show them to experts. Let them read them. If -they do not find one single mistake, I beg you to -give orders to have a gun fired off in the garden. -By the noise I shall know that my efforts have not -been in vain. The geniuses of all ages and -countries speak in different languages; but in them all -burns the same flame. Oh, if you knew my heavenly -happiness now that I can understand them!" The -prisoner's desire was fulfilled. Two shots were fired -in the garden by the banker's order. -</p> - -<p> -Later on, after the tenth year, the lawyer sat -immovable before his table and read only the New -Testament. The banker found it strange that a -man who in four years had mastered six hundred -erudite volumes, should have spent nearly a year in -reading one book, easy to understand and by no -means thick. The New Testament was then replaced -by the history of religions and theology. -</p> - -<p> -During the last two years of his confinement the -prisoner read an extraordinary amount, quite -haphazard. Now he would apply himself to the natural -sciences, then would read Byron or Shakespeare. -Notes used to come from him in which he asked to be -sent at the same time a book on chemistry, a -textbook of medicine, a novel, and some treatise on -philosophy or theology. He read as though he were -swimming in the sea among the broken pieces of -wreckage, and in his desire to save his life was -eagerly grasping one piece after another. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -II -</p> - -<p> -The banker recalled all this, and thought: -</p> - -<p> -"To-morrow at twelve o'clock he receives his -freedom. Under the agreement, I shall have to -pay him two millions. If I pay, it's all over with -me. I am ruined for ever...." -</p> - -<p> -Fifteen years before he had too many millions to -count, but now he was afraid to ask himself which -he had more of, money or debts. Gambling on the -Stock-Exchange, risky speculation, and the -recklessness of which he could not rid himself even in -old age, had gradually brought his business to decay; -and the fearless, self-confident, proud man of business -had become an ordinary banker, trembling at -every rise and fall in the market. -</p> - -<p> -"That cursed bet," murmured the old man, clutching -his head in despair.... "Why didn't the -man die? He's only forty years old. He will take -away my last farthing, marry, enjoy life, gamble on -the Exchange, and I will look on like an envious -beggar and hear the same words from him every -day: 'I'm obliged to you for the happiness of my -life. Let me help you.' No, it's too much! The -only escape from bankruptcy and disgrace—is that -the man should die." -</p> - -<p> -The clock had just struck three. The banker -was listening. In the house everyone was asleep, -and one could hear only the frozen trees whining -outside the windows. Trying to make no sound, -he took out of his safe the key of the door which had -not been opened for fifteen years, put on his -overcoat, and went out of the house. The garden was -dark and cold. It was raining. A keen damp wind -hovered howling over all the garden and gave the -trees no rest. Though he strained his eyes, the -banker could see neither the ground, nor the white -statues, nor the garden-whig, nor the trees. -Approaching the place where the garden wing stood, -he called the watchman twice. There was no -answer. Evidently the watchman had taken shelter -from the bad weather and was now asleep somewhere -in the kitchen or the greenhouse. -</p> - -<p> -"If I have the courage to fulfil my intention," -thought the old man, "the suspicion will fall on the -watchman first of all." -</p> - -<p> -In the darkness he groped for the stairs and the -door and entered the hall of the garden-wing, then -poked his way into a narrow passage and struck a -match. Not a soul was there. Someone's bed, -with no bedclothes on it, stood there, and an -iron stove was dark in the corner. The seals on -the door that led into the prisoner's room were -unbroken. -</p> - -<p> -When the match went out, the old man, trembling -from agitation, peeped into the little window. -</p> - -<p> -In the prisoner's room a candle was burning dim. -The prisoner himself sat by the table. Only his -back, the hair on his head and his hands were visible. -On the table, the two chairs, and the carpet by the -table open books were strewn. -</p> - -<p> -Five minutes passed and the prisoner never once -stirred. Fifteen years' confinement had taught him -to sit motionless. The banker tapped on the window -with his finger, but the prisoner gave no movement -in reply. Then the banker cautiously tore -the seals from the door and put the key into the lock. -The rusty lock gave a hoarse groan and the door -creaked. The banker expected instantly to hear a -cry of surprise and the sound of steps. Three -minutes passed and it was as quiet behind the door -as it had been before. He made up his mind to -enter. -</p> - -<p> -Before the table sat a man, unlike an ordinary -human being. It was a skeleton, with tight-drawn -skin, with a woman's long curly hair, and a shaggy -beard. The colour of his face was yellow, of an -earthy shade; the cheeks were sunken, the back -long and narrow, and the hand upon which he -leaned his hairy head was so lean and skinny that -it was painful to look upon. His hair was already -silvering with grey, and no one who glanced at -the senile emaciation of the face would have -believed that he was only forty years old. On -the table, before his bended head, lay a sheet of -paper on which something was written in a tiny -hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Poor devil," thought the banker, "he's asleep -and probably seeing millions in his dreams. I have -only to take and throw this half-dead thing on the -bed, smother him a moment with the pillow, and the -most careful examination will find no trace of -unnatural death. But, first, let us read what he has -written here." -</p> - -<p> -The banker took the sheet from the table and -read: -</p> - -<p> -"To-morrow at twelve o'clock midnight, I shall -obtain my freedom and the right to mix with people. -But before I leave this room and see the sun I think -it necessary to say a few words to you. On my own -clear conscience and before God who sees me I -declare to you that I despise freedom, life, health, -and all that your books call the blessings of the -world. -</p> - -<p> -"For fifteen years I have diligently studied -earthly life. True, I saw neither the earth nor the -people, but in your books I drank fragrant wine, -sang songs, hunted deer and wild boar in the forests, -loved women.... And beautiful women, like -clouds ethereal, created by the magic of your poets' -genius, visited me by night and whispered me -wonderful tales, which made my head drunken. -In your books I climbed the summits of Elbruz and -Mont Blanc and saw from thence how the sun rose -in the morning, and in the evening overflowed the -sky, the ocean, and the mountain ridges with a -purple gold. I saw from thence how above me -lightnings glimmered cleaving the clouds; I saw -green forests, fields, rivers, lakes, cities; I heard -syrens singing, and the playing of the pipes of Pan; -I touched the wings of beautiful devils who came -flying to me to speak of God.... In your -books I cast myself into bottomless abysses, worked -miracles, burned cities to the ground, preached new -religions, conquered whole countries.... -</p> - -<p> -"Your books gave me wisdom. All that unwearying -human thought created in the centuries -is compressed to a little lump in my skull. I know -that I am more clever than you all. -</p> - -<p> -"And I despise your books, despise all worldly -blessings and wisdom. Everything is void, frail, -visionary and delusive like a mirage. Though you -be proud and wise and beautiful, yet will death -wipe you from the face of the earth like the mice -underground; and your posterity, your history, and -the immortality of your men of genius will be as -frozen slag, burnt down together with the terrestrial -globe. -</p> - -<p> -"You are mad, and gone the wrong way. You -take lie for truth and ugliness for beauty. You -would marvel if by certain conditions there should -suddenly grow on apple and orange trees, instead of -fruit, frogs and lizards, and if roses should begin to -breathe the odour of a sweating horse. So do I -marvel at you, who have bartered heaven for earth. -I do not want to understand you. -</p> - -<p> -"That I may show you in deed my contempt for -that by which you live, I waive the two millions of -which I once dreamed as of paradise, and which I -now despise. That I may deprive myself of my right -to them, I shall come out from here five minutes -before the stipulated term, and thus shall violate the -agreement." -</p> - -<p> -When he had read, the banker put the sheet on -the table, kissed the head of the strange man, and -began to weep. He went out of the wing. Never -at any other time, not even after his terrible losses -on the Exchange, had he felt such contempt for -himself as now. Coming home, he lay down on his -bed, but agitation and tears kept him long from -sleep.... -</p> - -<p> -The next morning the poor watchman came -running to him and told him that they had seen -the man who lived in the wing climbing through -the window into the garden. He had gone to the -gate and disappeared. Together with his servants -the banker went instantly to the wing and -established the escape of his prisoner. To avoid -unnecessary rumours he took the paper with the -renunciation from the table and, on his return, locked -it in his safe. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h3> -V -<br /><br /> -LA GRANDE BRETČCHE* -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -HONORÉ DE BALZAC -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -*Translated by Katherine Prescott Wormeley. Reprinted by -permission of Little, Brown, and Company. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Ah! Madame," replied Doctor Horace -Bianchon to the lady at whose house he was -supping, "it is true that I have many terrible -histories in my repertory; but every tale has its due -hour in a conversation, according to the clever -saying reported by Chamfort and said to the Duc de -Fronsac: 'There are ten bottles of champagne -between your joke and the present moment.'" -</p> - -<p> -"But it is past midnight; what better hour could -you have?" said the mistress of the house. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, tell us, Monsieur Bianchon," urged the -assembled company. -</p> - -<p> -At a gesture from the complying doctor, silence -reigned. -</p> - -<p> -"About a hundred yards from Vendôme," he said, -"on the banks of the Loire, is an old brown house, -covered with very steep roofs, and so completely -isolated that there is not so much as an evil-smelling -tannery, nor a shabby inn such as you see at the -entrance of all little towns, in its neighbourhood. In -front of this dwelling is a garden overlooking the -river, where the box edgings, once carefully clipped, -which bordered the paths, now cross them and -straggle as they fancy. A few willows with their -roots in the Loire have made a rapid growth, like the -enclosing hedge, and together they half hide the -house. Plants which we call weeds drape the bank -toward the river with their beautiful vegetation. -Fruit-trees, neglected for half a score of years, no -longer yield a product, and their shoots and suckers -have formed an undergrowth. The espaliers are -like a hornbeam hedge. The paths, formerly gravelled, -are full of purslain; so that, strictly speaking, -there are no paths at all. -</p> - -<p> -"From the crest of the mountain, on which hang -the ruins of the old castle of Vendôme (the only spot -whence the eye can look down into this enclosure) we -say to ourselves that at an earlier period, now -difficult to determine, this corner of the earth was -the delight of some gentleman devoted to roses and -tulips, in a word, to horticulture, but above all -possessing a keen taste for good fruits. An arbour -is still standing, or rather the remains of one, and -beneath it is a table which time has not yet -completely demolished. -</p> - -<p> -"From the aspect of this garden, now no more, the -negative joys of the peaceful life of the provinces can -be inferred, just as we infer the life of some worthy -from the epitaph on his tomb. To complete the sad -and tender ideas which take possession of the soul, a -sundial on the wall bears this inscription, Christian -yet bourgeois, 'ULTIMAM COGITA.' The roofs are -dilapidated, the blinds always closed, the balconies -are filled with swallows' nests, the gates are locked. -Tall herbs and grasses trace in green lines the chinks -and crevices of the stone portico; the locks are -rusty. Sun and moon, summer and winter and -snow have rotted the wood, warped the planks, and -worn away the paint. The gloomy silence is -unbroken save by the birds, the cats, the martens, the -rats, the mice, all free to scamper or fly, and to -fight, and to eat themselves up. -</p> - -<p> -"An invisible hand has written the word 'MYSTERY' -everywhere. If, impelled by curiosity, you -wish to look at this house, on the side toward the -road you will see a large gate with an arched top, in -which the children of the neighbourhood have made -large holes. This gate, as I heard later, had been -disused for ten years. Through these irregular holes -you can observe the perfect harmony which exists -between the garden side and the courtyard side of -the premises. The same neglect everywhere. Lines -of grass surround the paving-stones. Enormous -cracks furrow the walls, the blackened eaves of -which are festooned with pellitory. The steps of -the portico are disjointed, the rope of the bell is -rotten, the gutters are dropping apart. What fire -from heaven has fallen here? What tribunal has -ordained that salt be cast upon this dwelling? Has -God been mocked here; or France betrayed? These -are the questions we ask as we stand there; the -reptiles crawl about but they give no answer. -</p> - -<p> -"This empty and deserted house is a profound -enigma, whose solution is known to none. It was -formerly a small fief, and is called La Grande -Bretčche. During my stay at Vendôme, where -Desplein had sent me in charge of a rich patient, the -sight of this strange dwelling was one of my keenest -pleasures. It was better than a ruin. A ruin -possesses memories of positive authenticity; but this -habitation, still standing, though slowly demolished -by an avenging hand, contained some secret, some -mysterious thought,—it betrayed at least a strange -caprice. -</p> - -<p> -"More than once of an evening I jumped the -hedge, now a tangle, which guarded the enclosure. -I braved the scratches; I walked that garden without -a master, that property which was neither public -nor private; for hours I stayed there contemplating -its decay. Not even to obtain the history which -underlay (and to which no doubt was due) this -strange spectacle would I have asked a single -question of any gossiping countryman. Standing there -I invented enchanting tales; I gave myself up to -debauches of melancholy which fascinated me. Had -I known the reason, perhaps a common one, for this -strange desertion, I should have lost the unwritten -poems with which I intoxicated myself. To me this -sanctuary evoked the most varied images of human -life darkened by sorrows; sometimes it was a cloister -without the nuns; sometimes a graveyard and its -peace, without the dead who talk to you in epitaphs; -to-day the house of the leper, to-morrow that of the -Atrides; but above all was it the provinces with their -composed ideas, their hour-glass life. -</p> - -<p> -"Often I wept there, but I never smiled. More -than once an involuntary terror seized me, as I heard -above my head the muffled whirr of a ringdove's -wings hurrying past. The soil is damp; care must -be taken against the lizards, the vipers, the frogs, -which wander about with the wild liberty of nature; -above all, it is well not to fear cold, for there are -moments when you feel an icy mantle laid upon your -shoulders like the hand of the Commander on the -shoulder of Don Juan. One evening I shuddered; -the wind had caught and turned a rusty vane. Its -creak was like a moan issuing from the house; at a -moment, too, when I was ending a gloomy drama in -which I explained to myself the monumental dolor -of that scene. -</p> - -<p> -"That night I returned to my inn, a prey to -gloomy thoughts. After I had supped the landlady -entered my room with a mysterious air, and said to -me, 'Monsieur, Monsieur Regnault is here.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Who is Monsieur Regnault?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Is it possible that monsieur doesn't know Monsieur -Regnault? Ah, how funny!' she said, leaving -the room. -</p> - -<p> -"Suddenly I beheld a long, slim man, clothed in -black, holding his hat in his hand, who presented -himself, much like a ram about to leap on a rival, and -showed me a retreating forehead, a small, pointed -head and a livid face, in colour somewhat like a glass -of dirty water. You would have taken him for the -usher of a minister. This unknown personage wore -an old coat much worn in the folds, but he had a -diamond in the frill of his shirt, and gold earrings -in his ears. -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur, to whom have I the honour of speaking?' -I said. -</p> - -<p> -"He took a chair, sat down before my fire, laid -his hat on my table and replied, rubbing his hands: -'Ah! it is very cold. Monsieur, I am Monsieur Regnault.' -</p> - -<p> -"I bowed, saying to myself: '<i>Il bondo cani!</i> seek!' -</p> - -<p> -"'I am,' he said, 'the notary of Vendôme.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Delighted, monsieur,' I replied, 'but I am not -in the way of making my will,—for reasons, alas, too -well-known to me.' -</p> - -<p> -"'One moment!' he resumed, raising his hand as -if to impose silence; 'Permit me, monsieur, permit -me! I have learned that you sometimes enter the -garden of La Grande Bretčche and walk there—' -</p> - -<p> -"'Yes, monsieur.' -</p> - -<p> -"'One moment!' he said, repeating his gesture. -'That action constitutes a misdemeanor. Monsieur, -I come in the name and as testamentary executor of -the late Comtesse de Merret to beg you to discontinue -your visits. One moment! I am not a Turk; -I do not wish to impute a crime to you. Besides, it -is quite excusable that you, a stranger, should be -ignorant of the circumstances which compel me to -let the handsomest house in Vendôme go to ruin. -Nevertheless, monsieur, as you seem to be a person -of education, you no doubt know that the law forbids -trespassers on enclosed property. A hedge is the -same as a wall. But the state in which that house is -left may well excuse your curiosity. I should be only -too glad to leave you free to go and come as you liked -there, but charged as I am to execute the wishes of -the testatrix, I have the honour, monsieur, to request -that you do not again enter that garden. I myself, -monsieur, have not, since the reading of the will, set -foot in that house, which, as I have already had the -honour to tell you, I hold under the will of Madame -de Merret. We have only taken account of the -number of the doors and windows so as to assess the -taxes which I pay annually from the funds left by -the late countess for that purpose. Ah, monsieur, -that will made a great deal of noise in Vendôme!' -</p> - -<p> -"There the worthy man paused to blow his nose. -I respected his loquacity, understanding perfectly -that the testamentary bequest of Madame de -Merret had been the most important event of his -life, the head and front of his reputation, his glory, -his Restoration. So then, I must bid adieu to my -beautiful reveries, my romances! I was not so -rebellious as to deprive myself of getting the truth, as -it were officially, out of the man of law, so I said,— -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur, if it is not indiscreet, may I ask the -reason of this singularity?' -</p> - -<p> -"At these words a look which expressed the pleasure -of a man who rides a hobby passed over Monsieur -Regnault's face. He pulled up his shirt-collar with a -certain conceit, took out his snuff-box, opened it, -offered it to me, and on my refusal, took a strong -pinch himself. He was happy. A man who hasn't a -hobby doesn't know how much can be got out of life. -A hobby is the exact medium between a passion and -a monomania. At that moment I understood -Sterne's fine expression to its fullest extent, and I -formed a complete idea of the joy with which my -Uncle Toby—Trim assisting—bestrode his war-horse. -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur,' said Monsieur Regnault, 'I was -formerly head-clerk to Maître Roguin in Paris. An -excellent lawyer's office of which you have doubtless -heard? No! And yet a most unfortunate failure -made it, I may say, celebrated. Not having the -means to buy a practice in Paris at the price to which -they rose in 1816, I came here to Vendôme, where I -have relations,—among them a rich aunt, who gave -me her daughter in marriage.' -</p> - -<p> -"Here he made a slight pause, and then resumed: -</p> - -<p> -"'Three months after my appointment was ratified -by Monseigneur the Keeper of the Seals, I was -sent for one evening just as I was going to bed (I -was not then married) by Madame la Comtesse de -Merret, then living in her château at Merret. Her -lady's-maid, an excellent girl who is now serving in -this inn, was at the door with the countess's carriage. -Ah! one moment! I ought to tell you, monsieur, that -Monsieur le Comte de Merret had gone to die in Paris -about two months before I came here. He died a -miserable death from excesses of all kinds, to which -he gave himself up. You understand? Well, the -day of his departure Madame la Comtesse left La -Grande Bretčche, and dismantled it. They do say -that she even burned the furniture, and the carpets, -and all appurtenances whatsoever and wheresoever -contained on the premises leased to the said—Ah! beg -pardon; what am I saying? I thought I -was dictating a lease. Well, monsieur, she burned -everything, they say, in the meadow at Merret. -Were you ever at Merret, monsieur?' -</p> - -<p> -"Not waiting for me to speak, he answered for me: -'No. Ah! it is a fine spot? For three months, or -thereabouts,' he continued, nodding his head, -'Monsieur le Comte and Madame la Comtesse had been -living at La Grande Bretčche in a very singular way. -They admitted no one to the house; madame lived on -the ground-floor, and monsieur on the first floor. -After Madame la Comtesse was left alone she never -went to church. Later, in her own château she -refused to see the friends who came to visit her. She -changed greatly after she left La Grande Bretčche -and came to Merret. That dear woman (I say dear, -though I never saw her but once, because she gave -me this diamond),—that good lady was very ill; no -doubt she had given up all hope of recovery, for she -died without calling in a doctor; in fact, some of our -ladies thought she was not quite right in her mind. -Consequently, monsieur, my curiosity was greatly -excited when I learned that Madame de Merret -needed my services; and I was not the only one deeply -interested; that very night, though it was late, the -whole town knew I had gone to Merret.' -</p> - -<p> -"The good man paused a moment to arrange his -facts, and then continued: 'The lady's maid -answered rather vaguely the questions which I put to -her as we drove along; she did, however, tell me -that her mistress had received the last sacraments -that day from the curate of Merret, and that she was -not likely to live through the night. I reached the -château about eleven o'clock. I went up the grand -staircase. After passing through a number of dark -and lofty rooms, horribly cold and damp, I entered -the state bedroom where Madame la Comtesse was -lying. In consequence of the many stories that were -told about this lady (really, monsieur, I should never -end if I related all of them) I expected to find her a -fascinating coquette. Would you believe it, I could -scarcely see her at all in the huge bed in which she -lay. It is true that the only light in that vast room, -with friezes of the old style powdered with dust -enough to make you sneeze on merely looking at -them, was one Argand lamp. Ah! but you say you -have never been at Merret. Well, monsieur, the bed -was one of those old-time beds with a high tester -covered with flowered chintz. A little night-table -stood by the bed, and on it I noticed a copy of the -"Imitation of Christ." -</p> - -<p> -"'Allow me a parenthesis,' he said, interrupting -himself. 'I bought that book subsequently, also the -lamp, and presented them to my wife. In the room -was a large sofa for the woman who was taking care -of Madame de Merret, and two chairs. That was all. -No fire. The whole would not have made ten lines -of an inventory. Ah! my dear monsieur, could you -have seen her as I saw her then, in that vast room -hung with brown tapestry, you would have imagined -you were in the pages of a novel. It was glacial,—better -than that, funereal,' added the worthy man, -raising his arm theatrically and making a pause. -Presently he resumed: -</p> - -<p> -"'By dint of peering round and coming close to -the bed I at length saw Madame de Merret, thanks -to the lamp which happened to shine on the pillows. -Her face was as yellow as wax, and looked like two -hands joined together. Madame la Comtesse wore -a lace cap, which, however, allowed me to see her -fine hair, white as snow. She was sitting up in the -bed, but apparently did so with difficulty. Her large -black eyes, sunken no doubt with fever, and almost -lifeless, hardly moved beneath the bones where the -eyebrows usually grow. Her forehead was damp. -Her fleshless hands were like bones covered with -thin skin; the veins and muscles could all be seen. -She must once have been very handsome, but now -I was seized with—I couldn't tell you what feeling, -as I looked at her. Those who buried her said -afterward that no living creature had ever been as wasted -as she without dying. Well, it was awful to see. -Some mortal disease had eaten up that woman till -there was nothing left of her but a phantom. Her -lips, of a pale violet, seemed not to move when she -spoke. Though my profession had familiarised me -with such scenes, in bringing me often to the bedside -of the dying, to receive their last wishes, I must say -that the tears and the anguish of families and -friends which I have witnessed were as nothing -compared to this solitary woman in that vast building. -I did not hear the slightest noise, I did not see the -movement which the breathing of the dying woman -would naturally give to the sheet that covered her; -I myself remained motionless, looking at her in a -sort of stupor. Indeed, I fancy I am there still. At -last her large eyes moved; she tried to lift her right -hand, which fell back upon the bed; then these -words issued from her lips like a breath, for her -voice was no longer a voice,— -</p> - -<p> -"'"I have awaited you with impatience." -</p> - -<p> -"'Her cheeks coloured. The effort to speak was -great. The old woman who was watching her here -rose and whispered in my ear: "Don't speak; -Madame la Comtesse is past hearing the slightest -sound; you would only agitate her." I sat down. -A few moments later Madame de Merret collected -all her remaining strength to move her right arm -and put it, not without great difficulty, under her -bolster. She paused an instant; then she made a -last effort and withdrew her hand which now held a -sealed paper. Great drops of sweat rolled from her -forehead. -</p> - -<p> -"'"I give you my will," she said. "Oh, my -God! Oh!" -</p> - -<p> -"'That was all. She seized a crucifix which lay on -her bed, pressed it to her lips, and died. The -expression of her fixed eyes still makes me shudder -when I think of it. I brought away the will. When -it was opened I found that Madame de Merret had -appointed me her executor. She bequeathed her -whole property to the hospital of Vendôme, save -and excepting certain bequests. The following -disposition was made of La Grande Bretčche. I -was directed to leave it in the state in which it was -at the time of her death for a period of fifty years -from the date of her decease; I was to forbid all -access to it, by any- and everyone, no matter who; -to make no repairs, and to put by from her estate -a yearly sum to pay watchers, if they were -necessary, to insure the faithful execution of these -intentions. At the expiration of that time the estate -was, if the testatrix's will had been carried out in all -particulars, to belong to my heirs (because, as -monsieur is doubtless well aware, notaries are forbidden -by law to receive legacies); if otherwise, then La -Grande Bretčche was to go to whoever might establish -a right to it, but on condition of fulfilling certain -orders contained in a codicil annexed to the will and -not to be opened until the expiration of the fifty years. -The will has never been attacked, consequently—' -</p> - -<p> -"Here the oblong notary, without finishing his -sentence, looked at me triumphantly. I made him -perfectly happy with a few compliments. -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur,' I said, in conclusion, 'you have so -deeply impressed that scene upon me that I seem to -see the dying woman, whiter than the sheets; those -glittering eyes horrify me; I shall dream of her all -night. But you must have formed some conjectures -as to the motive of that extraordinary will.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur,' he replied, with comical reserve, 'I -never permit myself to judge of the motives of those -who honour me with the gift of a diamond.' -</p> - -<p> -"However, I managed to unloose the tongue of the -scrupulous notary so far that he told me, not without -long digressions, certain opinions on the matter -emanating from the wise-heads of both sexes whose -judgments made the social law of Vendôme. But -these opinions and observations were so contradictory, -so diffuse, that I well-nigh went to sleep in spite -of the interest I felt in this authentic story. The -heavy manner and monotonous accent of the notary, -who was no doubt in the habit of listening to himself -and making his clients and compatriots listen to -him, triumphed over my curiosity. Happily, he -did at last go away. -</p> - -<p> -"'Ha, ha! monsieur,' he said to me at the head of -the stairs, 'many persons would like to live their -forty-five years longer, but, one moment!'—here he -laid the forefinger of his right hand on his nose as if -he meant to say, Now pay attention to this!—'in -order to do that, to do that, they ought to skip the -sixties.' -</p> - -<p> -"I shut my door, the notary's jest, which he -thought very witty, having drawn me from my -apathy; then I sat down in my armchair and put -both feet on the andirons. I was plunged in a -romance <i>ŕ la</i> Radcliffe, based on the notarial -disclosures of Monsieur Regnault, when my door, -softly opened by the hand of a woman, turned -noiselessly on its hinges. -</p> - -<p> -"I saw my landlady, a jovial, stout woman, with a -fine, good-humoured face, who had missed her true -surroundings; she was from Flanders, and might -have stepped out of a picture by Teniers. -</p> - -<p> -"'Well, monsieur,' she said, 'Monsieur Regnault -has no doubt recited to you his famous tale of La -Grande Bretčche?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Yes, Madame Lepas.' -</p> - -<p> -"'What did he tell you?' -</p> - -<p> -"I repeated in a few words the dark and chilling -story of Madame de Merret as imparted to me by -the notary. At each sentence my landlady ran out -her chin and looked at me with the perspicacity of -an inn-keeper, which combines the instinct of a -policeman, the astuteness of a spy, and the cunning -of a shopkeeper. -</p> - -<p> -"'My dear Madame Lepas,' I added, in conclusion, -'you evidently know more than that. If not, -why did you come up here to me?' -</p> - -<p> -"'On the word, now, of an honest woman, just as -true as my name is Lepas—' -</p> - -<p> -"'Don't swear, for your eyes are full of the secret. -You knew Monsieur de Merret. What sort of man -was he?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Goodness! Monsieur de Merret? well, you see, -he was a handsome man, so tall you never could see -the top of him,—a very worthy gentleman from -Picardy, who had, as you may say, a temper of -his own; and he knew it. He paid everyone in -cash so as to have no quarrels. But, I tell you, -he could be quick. Our ladies thought him very -pleasant.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Because of his temper?' I asked. -</p> - -<p> -"'Perhaps,' she replied. 'You know, monsieur, a -man must have something to the fore, as they say, to -marry a lady like Madame de Merret, who, without -disparaging others, was the handsomest and the -richest woman in Vendôme. She had an income of -nearly twenty thousand francs. All the town was -at the wedding. The bride was so dainty and captivating, -a real little jewel of a woman. Ah! they were -a fine couple in those days!' -</p> - -<p> -"'Was their home a happy one?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Hum, hum! yes and no, so far as anyone can -say; for you know well enough that the like of us -don't live hand and glove with the like of them. -Madame de Merret was a good woman and very -charming, who no doubt had to bear a good deal -from her husband's temper; we all liked her though -she was rather haughty. Bah! that was her bringing -up, and she was born so. When people are noble—don't -you see?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Yes, but there must have been some terrible -catastrophe, for Monsieur and Madame de Merret -to separate violently.' -</p> - -<p> -"'I never said there was a catastrophe, monsieur; -I know nothing about it.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Very good; now I am certain that you know -all.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Well, monsieur, I'll tell you all I do know. -When I saw Monsieur Regnault coming after you I -knew he would tell you about Madame de Merret -and La Grande Bretčche; and that gave me the idea -of consulting monsieur, who seems to be a gentleman -of good sense, incapable of betraying a poor woman -like me, who has never done harm to anyone, but -who is, somehow, troubled in her conscience. I have -never dared to say a word to the people about here, -for they are all gossips, with tongues like steel blades. -And there's never been a traveller who has stayed as -long as you have, monsieur, to whom I could tell all -about the fifteen thousand francs— -</p> - -<p> -"'My dear Madame Lepas,' I replied, trying to -stop the flow of words, 'if your confidence is of a -nature to compromise me, I wouldn't hear it for -worlds.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Oh, don't be afraid,' she said, interrupting me. -'You'll see—' -</p> - -<p> -"This haste to tell made me quite certain I was -not the first to whom my good landlady had -communicated the secret of which I was to be the sole -repository, so I listened. -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur,' she said, 'when the Emperor sent -the Spanish and other prisoners of war to Vendôme -I lodged one of them (at the cost of the government),—a -young Spaniard on parole. But in spite of his -parole he had to report every day to the sub-prefect. -He was a grandee of Spain, with a name that ended -in <i>os</i> and in <i>dia</i>, like all Spaniards—Bagos de Férédia. -I wrote his name on the register, and you can see it -if you like. Oh, he was a handsome young fellow -for a Spaniard, who, they tell me, are all ugly. He -wasn't more than five feet two or three inches, but -he was well made. He had pretty little hands which -he took care of—ah, you should just have seen him! -He had as many brushes for those hands as a woman -has for her head. He had fine black hair, a fiery eye, -a rather copper-coloured skin, but it was pleasant to -look at all the same. He wore the finest linen I ever -saw on anyone, and I have lodged princesses, and, -among others, General Bertrand, the Duc and -Duchesse d'Abrantčs, Monsieur Decazes, and the King of -Spain. He didn't eat much; but he had such polite -manners and was always so amiable that I couldn't -find fault with him. Oh! I did really love him, -though he never said four words a day to me; if -anyone spoke to him, he never answered,—that's -an oddity those grandees have, a sort of mania, so -I'm told. He read his breviary like a priest, and he -went to mass and to all the services regularly. Where -do you think he sat? close to the chapel of Madame -de Merret. But as he took that place the first time -he went to church nobody attached any importance -to the fact, though it was remembered later. Besides, -he never took his eyes off his prayer-book, -poor young man!' -</p> - -<p> -"My jovial landlady paused a moment, overcome -with her recollections; then she continued -her tale: -</p> - -<p> -"'From that time on, monsieur, he used to walk -up the mountain every evening to the ruins of the -castle. It was his only amusement, poor man! and I -dare say it recalled his own country; they say Spain -is all mountains. From the first he was always late -at night in coming in. I used to be uneasy at never -seeing him before the stroke of midnight; but we -got accustomed to his ways and gave him a key to -the door, so that we didn't have to sit up. It so -happened that one of our grooms told us that one -evening when he went to bathe his horses he thought -he saw the grandee in the distance, swimming in the -river like a fish. When he came in I told him he had -better take care not to get entangled in the sedges; -he seemed annoyed that anyone had seen him in the -water. Well, monsieur, one day, or rather, one -morning, we did not find him in his room; he had -not come in. He never returned. I looked about -and into everything, and at last I found a writing in -a table drawer where had put away fifty of those -Spanish gold coins called "portugaise," which bring -a hundred francs apiece; there were also diamonds -worth ten thousand francs sealed up in a little box. -The paper said that in case he should not return some -day, he bequeathed to us the money and the diamonds, -with a request to found masses of thanksgiving -to God for his escape and safety. In those days -my husband was living, and he did everything he -could to find the young man. But, it was the queerest -thing! he found only the Spaniard's clothes under -a big stone in a sort of shed on the banks of the river, -on the castle side, just opposite to La Grande -Bretčche. My husband went so early in the morning -that no one saw him. He burned the clothes after -we had read the letter, and gave out, as Comte -Férédia requested, that he had fled. The sub-prefect -sent the whole gendarmerie on his traces, but bless -your heart! they never caught him. Lepas thought -the Spaniard had drowned himself. But, monsieur, -I never thought so. I think he was somehow mixed -up in Madame de Merret's trouble; and I'll tell you -why. Rosalie has told me that her mistress had a -crucifix she valued so much that she was buried with -it, and it was made of ebony and silver; now when -Monsieur de Férédia first came to lodge with us he -had just such a crucifix, but I soon missed it. Now, -monsieur, what do you say? isn't it true that I need -have no remorse about those fifteen thousand francs? are -not they rightfully mine?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Of course they are. But how is it you have -never questioned Rosalie?' I said. -</p> - -<p> -"'Oh, I have, monsieur; but I can get nothing out -of her. That girl is a stone wall. She knows -something, but there is no making her talk.' -</p> - -<p> -"After a few more remarks, my landlady left me, -a prey to a romantic curiosity, to vague and darkling -thoughts, to a religious terror that was something -like the awe which comes upon us when we enter by -night a gloomy church and see in the distance -beneath the arches a feeble light; a formless figure -glides before us, the sweep of a robe—of priest or -woman—is heard; we shudder. La Grande Bretčche, -with its tall grasses, its shuttered windows, its rusty -railings, its barred gates, its deserted rooms, rose -fantastically and suddenly before me. I tried to -penetrate that mysterious dwelling and seek the -knot of this most solemn history, this drama which -had killed three persons. -</p> - -<p> -"Rosalie became to my eyes the most interesting -person in Vendôme. Examining her, I discovered -the traces of an ever-present inward thought. In -spite of the health which bloomed upon her dimpled -face, there was in her some element of remorse, or of -hope; her attitude bespoke a secret, like that of -devotees who pray with ardour, or that of a girl who -has killed her child and forever after hears its cry. -And yet her postures were naďve, and even vulgar; -her silly smile was surely not criminal; you would -have judged her innocent if only by the large -neckerchief of blue and red squares which covered her -vigorous bust, clothed, confined, and set off by a -gown of purple and white stripes. 'No,' thought I; -'I will not leave Vendôme without knowing the history -of La Grande Bretčche. I'll even make love to -Rosalie, if it is absolutely necessary.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Rosalie!' I said to her one day. -</p> - -<p> -"'What is it, monsieur?' -</p> - -<p> -"'You are not married, are you?' -</p> - -<p> -She trembled slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"'Oh! when the fancy takes me to be unhappy -there'll be no lack of men,' she said, laughing. -</p> - -<p> -"She recovered instantly from her emotion, whatever -it was; for all women, from the great lady to -the chambermaid of an inn, have a self-possession of -their own. -</p> - -<p> -"'You are fresh enough and taking enough to -please a lover,' I said, watching her. 'But tell me, -Rosalie, why did you take a place at an inn after you -left Madame de Merret? Didn't she leave you an -annuity?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Oh, yes, she did. But, monsieur, my place is -the best in all Vendôme.' -</p> - -<p> -"This answer was evidently what judges and -lawyers call 'dilatory.' Rosalie's position in this -romantic history was like that of a square on a -checkerboard; she was at the very centre, as it were, -of its truth and its interest; she seemed to me to be -tied into the knot of it. The last chapter of the tale -was in her, and, from the moment that I realized -this, Rosalie became to me an object of attraction. -By dint of studying the girl I came to find in her, as -we do in every woman whom we make a principal -object of our attention, that she had a host of good -qualities. She was clean, and careful of herself, -and therefore handsome. Some two or three weeks -after the notary's visit I said to her, suddenly: -'Tell me all you know about Madame de Merret.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Oh, no!' she replied, in a tone of terror, 'don't -ask me that, monsieur.' -</p> - -<p> -"I persisted in urging her. Her pretty face darkened, -her bright colour faded, her eyes lost their -innocent, liquid light. -</p> - -<p> -"'Well!' she said, after a pause, 'if you will have -it so, I will tell you; but keep the secret.' -</p> - -<p> -"'I'll keep it with the faithfulness of a thief, -which is the most loyal to be found anywhere.' -</p> - -<p> -"'If it is the same to you, monsieur, I'd rather -you kept it with your own.' -</p> - -<p> -"Thereupon, she adjusted her neckerchief and -posed herself to tell the tale; for it is very certain -that an attitude of confidence and security is -desirable in order to make a narration. The best tales -are told at special hours,—like that in which we are -now at table. No one ever told a story well, -standing or fasting. -</p> - -<p> -"If I were to reproduce faithfully poor Rosalie's -diffuse eloquence, a whole volume would scarce -suffice. But as the event of which she now gave me -a hazy knowledge falls into place between the facts -revealed by the garrulity of the notary, and that of -Madame Lepas, as precisely as the mean terms of an -arithmetical proposition lie between its two extremes, -all I have to do is to tell it to you in few -words. I therefore give a summary of what I -heard from Rosalie. -</p> - -<p> -"The chamber which Madame de Merret occupied -at La Grande Bretčche was on the ground-floor. A -small closet about four feet in depth was made in the -wall, and served as a wardrobe. Three months -before the evening when the facts I am about to -relate to you happened, Madame de Merret had -been so seriously unwell that her husband left her -alone in her room and slept himself in a chamber on -the first floor. By one of those mere chances which -it is impossible to foresee, he returned, on the -evening in question, two hours later than usual from the -club where he went habitually to read the papers -and talk politics with the inhabitants of the town. -His wife thought him at home and in bed and asleep. -But the invasion of France had been the subject of a -lively discussion; the game of billiards was a heated -one; he had lost forty francs, an enormous sum -for Vendôme, where everybody hoards his money, -and where manners and customs are restrained -within modest limits worthy of all praise,—which -may, perhaps, be the source of a certain true -happiness which no Parisian cares anything at all about. -</p> - -<p> -"For some time past Monsieur de Merret had -been in the habit of asking Rosalie, when he came -in, if his wife were in bed. Being told, invariably, -that she was, he at once went to his own room with -the contentment that comes of confidence and -custom. This evening, on returning home, he took -it into his head to go to Madame de Merret's -room and tell her his ill-luck, perhaps to be -consoled for it. During dinner he had noticed -that his wife was coquettishly dressed; and as -he came from the club the thought crossed his -mind that she was no longer ill, that her -convalescence had made her lovelier than ever,—a fact -he perceived, as husbands are wont to perceive -things, too late. -</p> - -<p> -"Instead of calling Rosalie, who at that moment -was in the kitchen watching a complicated game of -'brisque,' at which the cook and the coachman were -playing, Monsieur de Merret went straight to his -wife's room by the light of his lantern, which he had -placed on the first step of the stairway. His step, -which was easily recognized, resounded under the -arches of the corridor. Just as he turned the handle -of his wife's door he fancied he heard the door of -the closet, which I mentioned to you, shut; but when -he entered, Madame de Merret was alone, standing -before the fireplace. The husband thought to -himself that Rosalie must be in the closet; and yet a -suspicion, which sounded in his ears like the ringing -of bells, made him distrustful. He looked at his -wife, and fancied he saw something wild and troubled -in her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"'You are late in coming home,' she said. That -voice, usually so pure and gracious, seemed to him -slightly changed. -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur de Merret made no answer, for at that -moment Rosalie entered the room. Her appearance -was a thunderbolt to him. He walked up and down -the room with his arms crossed, going from one -window to another with a uniform movement. -</p> - -<p> -"'Have you heard anything to trouble you?' -asked his wife, timidly, while Rosalie was undressing -her. He made no answer. -</p> - -<p> -"'You can leave the room,' said Madame de -Merret to the maid. 'I will arrange my hair myself.' -</p> - -<p> -"She guessed some misfortune at the mere sight of -her husband's face, and wished to be alone with him. -</p> - -<p> -"When Rosalie was gone, or supposed to be gone, -for she went no further than the corridor, Monsieur -de Merret came to his wife and stood before her. -Then he said, coldly: -</p> - -<p> -"'Madame, there is someone in your closet.' -</p> - -<p> -"She looked at her husband with a calm air, and -answered, 'No, monsieur.' -</p> - -<p> -"That 'no' agonised Monsieur de Merret, for he -did not believe it. And yet his wife had never -seemed purer nor more saintly than she did at that -moment. He rose and went toward the closet to -open the door; Madame de Merret took him by the -hand and stopped him; she looked at him with a sad -air and said, in a voice that was strangely shaken: -'If you find no one, remember that all is over -between us.' -</p> - -<p> -"The infinite dignity of his wife's demeanour -restored her husband's respect for her, and suddenly -inspired him with one of those resolutions which -need some wider field to become immortal. -</p> - -<p> -"'No, Josephine,' he said, 'I will not look there. -In either case we should be separated forever. -Listen to me: I know the purity of your soul, I -know that you lead a saintly life; you would not -commit a mortal sin to save yourself from -death.' -</p> - -<p> -"At these words, Madame de Merret looked at -her husband with a haggard eye. -</p> - -<p> -"'Here is your crucifix,' he went on. 'Swear to -me before God that there is no one in that closet and -I will believe you; I will not open that door.' -</p> - -<p> -"Madame de Merret took the crucifix and said, -'I swear it.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Louder!' said her husband; 'repeat after me,—I -swear before God that there is no person in that -closet.' -</p> - -<p> -"She repeated the words composedly. -</p> - -<p> -"'That is well,' said Monsieur de Merret, coldly. -After a moment's silence he added, examining the -ebony crucifix inlaid with silver, 'That is a beautiful -thing; I did not know you possessed it; it is very -artistically wrought.' -</p> - -<p> -"'I found it at Duvivier's,' she replied; 'he bought -it of a Spanish monk when those prisoners-of-war -passed through Vendôme last year.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Ah!' said Monsieur de Merret, replacing the -crucifix on the wall. He rang the bell. Rosalie was -not long in answering it. Monsieur de Merret went -quickly up to her, took her into the recess of a -window on the garden side, and said to her in a low -voice:— -</p> - -<p> -"'I am told that Gorenflot wants to marry you, -and that poverty alone prevents it, for you have told -him you will not be his wife until he is a master-mason. -Is that so?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Yes, monsieur.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Well, go and find him; tell him to come here at -once and bring his trowel and other tools. Take -care not to wake anyone at his house but himself; -he will soon have enough money to satisfy you. No -talking to anyone when you leave this room, mind, -or—' -</p> - -<p> -"He frowned. Rosalie left the room. He called -her back; 'Here, take my pass-key,' he said. -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur de Merret, who had kept his wife in -view while giving these orders, now sat down beside -her before the fire and began to tell her of his game of -billiards, and the political discussions at the club. -When Rosalie returned she found Monsieur and -Madame de Merret talking amicably. -</p> - -<p> -"The master had lately had the ceilings of all the -reception rooms on the lower floor restored. Plaster -is very scarce at Vendôme, and the carriage of it -makes it expensive. Monsieur de Merret had -therefore ordered an ample quantity for his own wants, -knowing that he could readily find buyers for what -was left. This circumstance inspired the idea that -now possessed him. -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur, Gorenflot has come,' said Rosalie. -</p> - -<p> -"'Bring him in,' said her master. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame de Merret turned slightly pale when she -saw the mason. -</p> - -<p> -"'Gorenflot,' said her husband, 'fetch some -bricks from the coach-house,—enough to wall up -that door; use the plaster that was left over to -cover the wall.' -</p> - -<p> -"Then he called Rosalie and the mason to the end -of the room, and, speaking in a low voice, added, -'Listen to me, Gorenflot; after you have done this -work you will sleep in the house; and to-morrow -morning I will give you a passport into a foreign -country, and six thousand francs for the journey. -Go through Paris where I will meet you. There, I -will secure to you legally another six thousand -francs, to be paid to you at the end of ten years if -you still remain out of France. For this sum, I -demand absolute silence on what you see and do -this night. As for you, Rosalie, I give you a dowry -of ten thousand francs, on condition that you marry -Gorenflot, and keep silence, if not—' -</p> - -<p> -"'Rosalie,' said Madame de Merret, 'come and -brush my hair.' -</p> - -<p> -"The husband walked up and down the room, -watching the door, the mason, and his wife, but -without allowing the least distrust or misgiving to -appear in his manner. Gorenflot's work made some -noise; under cover of it Madame de Merret said -hastily to Rosalie, while her husband was at the -farther end of the room: 'A thousand francs -annuity if you tell Gorenflot to leave a crevice at the -bottom;' then aloud she added, composedly, 'Go -and help the mason.' -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur and Madame de Merret remained -silent during the whole time it took Gorenflot to -wall up the door. The silence was intentional on -the part of the husband to deprive his wife of all -chance of saying words with a double meaning which -might be heard within the closet; with Madame de -Merret it was either prudence or pride. -</p> - -<p> -"When the wall was more than half up, the -mason's tool broke one of the panes of glass in the -closet door; Monsieur de Merret's back was at that -moment turned away. The action proved to -Madame de Merret that Rosalie had spoken to the -mason. In that one instant she saw the dark face -of a man with black hair and fiery eyes. Before -her husband turned the poor creature had time to -make a sign with her head which meant 'Hope.' -</p> - -<p> -"By four o'clock, just at dawn, for it was in the -month of September, the work was done. Monsieur -de Merret remained that night in his wife's room. -The next morning, on rising, he said, carelessly: -'Ah! I forgot, I must go to the mayor's office about -that passport.' -</p> - -<p> -"He put on his hat, made three steps to the door, -then checked himself, turned back, and took the -crucifix. -</p> - -<p> -"His wife trembled with joy; 'He will go to -Duvivier's,' she thought. -</p> - -<p> -"The moment her husband had left the house she -rang for Rosalie. 'The pick-axe!' she cried, 'the -pick-axe! I watched how Gorenflot did it; we shall -have time to make a hole and close it again.' -</p> - -<p> -"In an instant Rosalie had brought a sort of -cleaver, and her mistress, with a fury no words can -describe, began to demolish the wall. She had -knocked away a few bricks, and was drawing back -to strike a still more vigorous blow with all her -strength, when she saw her husband behind her. -She fainted. -</p> - -<p> -"'Put madame on her bed,' said her husband, -coldly. -</p> - -<p> -"Foreseeing what would happen, he had laid this -trap for his wife; he had written to the mayor, and -sent for Duvivier. The jeweller arrived just as the -room had been again put in order. -</p> - -<p> -"'Duvivier,' said Monsieur de Merret, 'I think -you bought some crucifixes of those Spaniards who -were here last year?' -</p> - -<p> -"'No, monsieur, I did not.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Very good; thank you,' he said, with a tigerish -glance at his wife. 'Jean,' he added to the footman, -'serve my meals in Madame de Merret's bedroom; -she is very ill, and I shall not leave her till she -recovers.' -</p> - -<p> -"For twenty days that man remained beside his -wife. During the first hours, when sounds were -heard behind the walled door, and Josephine tried -to implore mercy for the dying stranger, he -answered, without allowing her to utter a word:— -</p> - -<p> -"'You swore upon the cross that no one was -there.'" -</p> - -<p> -As the tale ended the women rose from table, and -the spell under which Bianchon had held them was -broken. Nevertheless, several of them were conscious -of a cold chill as they recalled the last words. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h3> -VI -<br /><br /> -THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -EDGAR ALLAN POE -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The "Red Death" had long devastated the -country. No pestilence had ever been so -fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar -and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood. -There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and -then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. -The scarlet stains upon the body, and especially upon -the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut -him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his -fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress, and -termination of the disease were the incidents of -half-an-hour. -</p> - -<p> -But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless -and sagacious. When his dominions were half -depopulated, he summoned to his presence a -thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the -knights and dames of his court, and with these -retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated -abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent -structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric -yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it -in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, -having entered, brought furnaces and massy -hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave -means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden -impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The -abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions -the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. -The external world could take care of itself. In the -meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The -prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. -There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there -were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was -beauty, there was wine. All these and security were -within. Without was the "Red Death." -</p> - -<p> -It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month -of his seclusion, and while the pestilence raged most -furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero entertained -his thousand friends at a masked ball of the -most unusual magnificence. -</p> - -<p> -It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But -first let me tell of the rooms in which it was held. -There were seven—an imperial suite. In many -palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight -vista, while the folding doors slide back nearly to -the walls on either hand, so that the view of the -whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was -very different, as might have been expected from the -duke's love of the bizarre. The apartments were so -irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but -little more than one at a time. There was a sharp -turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each -turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the -middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window -looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the -windings of the suite. These windows were of -stained glass, whose colour varied in accordance -with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the -chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern -extremity was hung, for example, in blue—and -vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber -was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here -the panes were purple. The third was green throughout, -and so were the casements. The fourth was -furnished and lighted with orange—the fifth with -white—the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment -was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries -that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, -falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same -material and hue. But in this chamber only the -colour of the windows failed to correspond with the -decorations. The panes here were scarlet—a deep -blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments -was there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the -profusion of golden ornaments that lay scattered to -and fro, or depended from the roof. There was no -light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle -within the suite of chambers. But in the corridors -that followed the suite, there stood, opposite to -each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of -fire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass, -and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were -produced a multitude of gaudy and fantastic -appearances. But in the western or black chamber the -effect of the firelight that streamed upon the dark -hangings through the blood-tinted panes, was -ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a look -upon the countenances of those who entered, that -there were few of the company bold enough to set -foot within its precincts at all. -</p> - -<p> -It was in this apartment, also, that there stood -against the western wall a gigantic clock of ebony. -Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy, -monotonous clang; and when the minute-hand made -the circuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, -there came from the brazen lungs of the clock a -sound which was clear and loud and deep and -exceedingly musical; but of so peculiar a note and -emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the -musicians of the orchestra were constrained to pause, -momentarily, in their performance, to hearken to -the sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased -their evolutions; and there was a brief disconcert of -the whole gay company; and, while the chimes of -the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest -grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their -hands over their brows as if in confused reverie or -meditation. But when the echoes had fully ceased, -a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the -musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at -their own nervousness and folly, and made -whispering vows, each to the other, that the next chiming of -the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; -and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes (which -embrace three thousand and six hundred seconds of -the Time that flies), there came yet another chiming -of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and -tremulousness and meditation as before. -</p> - -<p> -But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and -magnificent revel. The tastes of the duke were -peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and effects. -He disregarded the <i>decora</i> of mere fashion. His plans -were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with -barbaric lustre. There are some who would have -thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not. -It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be -sure that he was not. -</p> - -<p> -He had directed, in great part, the movable -embellishments of the seven chambers, upon occasion -of this great fęte; and it was his own guiding taste -which had given character to the masqueraders. Be -sure they were grotesque. There were much glare -and glitter and piquancy and phantasm—much of -what has been since seen in "Hernani." There were -arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. -There were delirious fancies as the madman -fashions. There were much of the beautiful, much -of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the -terrible, and not a little of that which might have -excited disgust. To and fro in the seven chambers -there stalked, in fact, a multitude of dreams. And -these—the dreams—writhed in and about, taking -hue from the rooms, and causing the wild music of -the orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps. And, -anon, there strikes the ebony clock which stands in -the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all -is still, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. -The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the -echoes of the chime die away—they have endured -but an instant—and a light, half-subdued laughter -floats after them as they depart. And now again -the music swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to -and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue from the -many tinted windows through which stream the rays -from the tripods. But to the chamber which lies -most westwardly of the seven, there are now none of -the maskers who venture; for the night is waning -away; and there flows a ruddier light through the -blood-coloured panes; and the blackness of the sable -drapery appals; and to him whose foot falls upon the -sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of -ebony a muffled peal more solemnly emphatic than -any which reaches their ears who indulge in the more -remote gaieties of the other apartments. -</p> - -<p> -But these other apartments were densely crowded, -and in them beat feverishly the heart of life. And -the revel went whirlingly on, until at length there -commenced the sounding of midnight upon the -clock. And then the music ceased, as I have told; -and the evolutions of the waltzers were quieted; and -there was an uneasy cessation of all things as before. -But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by -the bell of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, -that more of thought crept, with more of time, into -the meditations of the thoughtful among those who -revelled. And thus, too, it happened, perhaps, that -before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly -sunk into silence, there were many individuals in the -crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the -presence of a masked figure which had arrested the -attention of no single individual before. And the -rumour of this new presence having spread itself -whisperingly around, there arose at length from the -whole company a buzz, or murmur, expressive of -disapprobation and surprise—then, finally, of terror, of -horror, and of disgust. -</p> - -<p> -In an assembly of phantasms, such as I have -painted, it may well be supposed that no ordinary -appearance could have excited such sensation. In -truth the masquerade license of the night was nearly -unlimited; but the figure in question had out-Heroded -Herod, and gone beyond the bounds of even the -prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the -hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched -without emotion. Even with the utterly lost, to -whom life and death are equally jests, there are -matters of which no jests can be made. The whole -company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in -the costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit -nor propriety existed. The figure was tall and gaunt, -and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of -the grave. The mask which concealed the visage -was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of -a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have -had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all -this might have been endured, if not approved, by -the mad revellers around. But the mummer had -gone so far as to assume the type of the Red Death. -His vesture was dabbled in <i>blood</i>—and his broad -brow, with all the features of the face, was -besprinkled with the scarlet horror. -</p> - -<p> -When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this -spectral image (which with a slow and solemn movement, -as if more fully to sustain its <i>rôle</i>, stalked to -and from among the waltzers), he was seen to be -convulsed, in the first moment, with a strong shudder -either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow -reddened with rage. -</p> - -<p> -"Who dares?" he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers -who stood near him—"who dares insult us with -this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask -him—that we may know whom we have to hang at -sunrise from the battlements!" -</p> - -<p> -It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which -stood the Prince Prospero as he uttered these words. -They rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and -clearly—for the prince was a bold and robust man, -and the music had become hushed at the waving of -his hand. -</p> - -<p> -It was in the blue room where stood the prince -with a group of pale courtiers by his side. At first, -as he spoke, there was a slight rushing movement of -this group in the direction of the intruder, who, at -the moment, was also near at hand, and now, with -deliberate and stately step, made closer approach to -the speaker. But from a certain nameless awe with -which the mad assumptions of the mummer had -inspired the whole party, there were found none who -put forth hand to seize him; so that, unimpeded, he -passed within a yard of the prince's person; and -while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, -shrank from the centres of the rooms to the walls, he -made his way uninterruptedly, but with the same -solemn and measured step which had distinguished -him from the first, through the blue chamber to the -purple—through the purple to the green—through -the green to the orange—through this again to the -white—and even thence to the violet, ere a decided -movement had been made to arrest him. It was -then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddened -with rage and the shame of his own momentary -cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six -chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly -terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a -drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid -impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the -retreating figure, when the latter, having attained the -extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly -and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry—and -the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable -carpet, upon which, instantly afterward, fell -prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then, -summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the -revellers at once threw themselves into the black -apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall -figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow -of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror at -finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask -which they handled with so violent a rudeness, -untenanted by any tangible form. -</p> - -<p> -And now was acknowledged the presence of the -Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. -And one by one dropped the revellers in the -blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the -despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the -ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. -And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness -and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable -dominion over all. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h3> -VII -<br /><br /> -DR. MANETTE'S MANUSCRIPT -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -CHARLES DICKENS -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"I, Alexandre Manette, unfortunate -physician, native of Beauvais, and afterward -resident in Paris, write this melancholy paper -in my doleful cell in the Bastille, during the last -month of the year, 1767. I write it at stolen -intervals, under every difficulty. I design to secrete -it in the wall of the chimney, where I have slowly -and laboriously made a place of concealment for it. -Some pitying hand may find it there, when I and my -sorrows are dust. -</p> - -<p> -"These words are formed by the rusty iron point -with which I write with difficulty in scrapings of -soot and charcoal from the chimney, mixed with -blood, in the last month of the tenth year of my -captivity. Hope has quite departed from my -breast. I know from terrible warnings I have noted -in myself that my reason will not long remain -unimpaired, but I solemnly declare that I am at this -time in the possession of my right mind—that my -memory is exact and circumstantial—and that I -write the truth as I shall answer for these my last -recorded words, whether they be ever read by men -or not, at the Eternal Judgment-seat. -</p> - -<p> -"One cloudy moonlight night, in the third week of -December (I think the twenty-second of the month) -in the year 1757, I was walking on a retired part of -the quay by the Seine for the refreshment of the -frosty air, at an hour's distance from my place of -residence in the Street of the School of Medicine, -when a carriage came along behind me, driven very -fast. As I stood aside to let that carriage pass, -apprehensive that it might otherwise run me down, a -head was put out at the window, and a voice called -to the driver to stop. -</p> - -<p> -"The carriage stopped as soon as the driver could -rein in his horses, and the same voice called to me -by my name. I answered. The carriage was then -so far in advance of me that two gentlemen had time -to open the door and alight before I came up with it. -I observed that they were both wrapped in cloaks, -and appeared to conceal themselves. As they stood -side by side near the carriage door, I also observed -that they both looked of about my own age, or -rather younger, and that they were greatly alike, in -stature, manner, voice, and (as far as I could see) -Łace too. -</p> - -<p> -"'You are Doctor Manette?' said one. -</p> - -<p> -"'I am.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Doctor Manette, formerly of Beauvais,' said -the other; 'the young physician, originally an expert -surgeon, who within the last year or two has made a -rising reputation in Paris?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Gentlemen,' I returned, 'I am that Doctor -Manette of whom you speak so graciously.' -</p> - -<p> -"'We have been to your residence,' said the first, -'and not being so fortunate as to find you there, and -being informed that you were probably walking in -this direction, we followed, in the hope of overtaking -you. Will you please to enter the carriage?' -</p> - -<p> -"The manner of both was imperious, and they -both moved, as these words were spoken, so as to -place me between themselves and the carriage door. -They were armed. I was not. -</p> - -<p> -"'Gentlemen,' said I, 'pardon me; but I usually -inquire who does me the honour to seek my assistance, -and what is the nature of the case to which I -am summoned.' -</p> - -<p> -"The reply to this was made by him who had -spoken second. 'Doctor, your clients are people -of condition. As to the nature of the case, our -confidence in your skill assures us that you will -ascertain it for yourself better than we can describe -it. Enough. Will you please to enter the carriage?' -</p> - -<p> -"I could do nothing but comply, and I entered -it in silence. They both entered after me—the last -springing in, after putting up the steps. The -carriage turned about, and drove on at its former speed. -</p> - -<p> -"I repeat this conversation exactly as it occurred. -I have no doubt that it is, word for word, the same. I -describe everything exactly as it took place, -constraining my mind not to wander from the task. -Where I make the broken marks that follow here, I -leave off for the time, and put my paper in its -hiding-place. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"The carriage left the streets behind, passed the -North Barrier, and emerged upon the country road. -At two-thirds of a league from the Barrier—I did -not estimate the distance at that time, but afterward -when I traversed it—it struck out of the main -avenue, and presently stopped at a solitary house. -We all three alighted, and walked, by a damp soft -footpath in a garden where a neglected fountain had -overflowed, to the door of the house. It was not -opened immediately, in answer to the ringing of the -bell, and one of my two conductors struck the man -who opened it, with his heavy riding glove, across -the face. -</p> - -<p> -"There was nothing in this action to attract my -particular attention, for I had seen common people -struck more commonly than dogs. But, the other -of the two, being angry likewise, struck the man in -like manner with his arm; the look and bearing of -the brothers were then so exactly alike, that I then -first perceived them to be twin brothers. -</p> - -<p> -"From the time of our alighting at the outer gate -(which we found locked, and which one of the -brothers had opened to admit us, and had relocked), -I had heard cries proceeding from an upper chamber. -I was conducted to this chamber straight, the cries -growing louder as we ascended the stairs, and I -found a patient in a high fever of the brain, lying -on a bed. -</p> - -<p> -"The patient was a woman of great beauty, and -young; assuredly not much past twenty. Her hair -was torn and ragged, and her arms were bound to her -sides with sashes and handkerchiefs. I noticed -that these bonds were all portions of a gentleman's -dress. On one of them, which was a fringed scarf -for a dress of ceremony, I saw the armorial bearings -of a Noble, and the letter E. -</p> - -<p> -"I saw this, within the first minute of my -contemplation of the patient; for, in her restless -strivings she had turned over on her face on the edge of -the bed, had drawn the end of the scarf into her -mouth, and was in danger of suffocation. My first -act was to put out my hand to relieve her breathing; -and in moving the scarf aside, the embroidery in the -corner caught my sight. -</p> - -<p> -"I turned her gently over, placed my hands upon -her breast to calm her and keep her down, and -looked into her face. Her eyes were dilated and -wild, and she constantly uttered piercing shrieks, -and repeated the words, 'My husband, my father, -and my brother!' and then counted up to twelve, -and said, 'Hush!' For an instant, and no more, -she would pause to listen, and then the piercing -shrieks would begin again, and she would repeat the -cry, 'My husband, my father, and my brother!' and -would count up to twelve, and say, 'Hush!' There -was no variation in the order, or the manner. There -was no cessation, but the regular moment's pause -in the utterance of these sounds. -</p> - -<p> -"'How long,' I asked, 'has this lasted?' -</p> - -<p> -"To distinguish the brothers, I will call them the -elder and the younger; by the elder, I mean him -who exercised the most authority. It was the elder -who replied, 'Since about this hour last night.' -</p> - -<p> -"'She has a husband, a father, and a brother?' -</p> - -<p> -"'A brother.' -</p> - -<p> -"'I do not address her brother?' -</p> - -<p> -"He answered with great contempt, 'No.' -</p> - -<p> -"'She has some recent association with the number -twelve?' -</p> - -<p> -"The younger brother impatiently rejoined, -'With twelve o'clock.' -</p> - -<p> -"'See, gentlemen,' said I, still keeping my hands -upon her breast, 'how useless I am, as you have -brought me! If I had known what I was coming to -see, I could have come provided. As it is, time -must be lost. There are no medicines to be obtained -in this lonely place.' -</p> - -<p> -"The elder brother looked to the younger, who -said haughtily, 'There is a case of medicines here;' -and brought it from a closet, and put it on the -table. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"I opened some of the bottles, smelt them, and -put the stoppers to my lips. If I had wanted to use -anything save narcotic medicines that were poisons -in themselves, I would not have administered any -of those. -</p> - -<p> -"'Do you doubt them?' asked the younger -brother. -</p> - -<p> -"'You see, monsieur, I am going to use them,' I -replied, and said no more. -</p> - -<p> -"I made the patient swallow, with great difficulty, -and after many efforts, the dose that I desired to -give. As I intended to repeat it after a while, and -as it was necessary to watch its influence, I then sat -down by the side of the bed. There was a timid and -suppressed woman in attendance (wife of the man -downstairs), who had retreated into a corner. -The house was damp and decayed, indifferently -furnished—evidently, recently occupied and -temporarily used. Some thick old hangings had been -nailed up before the windows, to deaden the sound -of the shrieks. They continued to be uttered in their -regular succession, with the cry, 'My husband, my -father, and my brother!' the counting up to twelve, -and 'Hush!' The frenzy was so violent, that I had -not unfastened the bandages restraining the arms; -but, I had looked to them, to see that they were not -painful. The only spark of encouragement in the -case, was, that my hand upon the sufferer's breast -had this much soothing influence, that for minutes -at a time it tranquillised the figure. It had no effect -upon the cries; no pendulum could be more regular. -</p> - -<p> -"For the reason that my hand had this effect -(I assume), I had sat by the side of the bed for half -an hour, with the two brothers looking on, before -the elder said: -</p> - -<p> -"'There is another patient.' -</p> - -<p> -"I was startled, and asked, 'Is it a pressing case?' -</p> - -<p> -"'You had better see,' he carelessly answered; -and took up a light. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"The other patient lay in a back room across a -second staircase, which was a species of loft over a -stable. There was a low plastered ceiling to a part -of it; the rest was open, to the ridge of the tiled roof, -and there were beams across. Hay and straw were -stored in that portion of the place, fagots for firing, -and a heap of apples in sand. I had to pass through -that part to get at the other. My memory is -circumstantial and unshaken. I try it with these -details, and I see them all, in this my cell in the -Bastille, near the close of the tenth year of my -captivity, as I saw them all that night. -</p> - -<p> -"On some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown -under his head, lay a handsome peasant boy—a boy -of not more than seventeen at the most. He lay on -his back, with his teeth set, his right hand clenched -on his breast, and his glaring eyes looking straight -upward. I could not see where his wound was, as I -kneeled on one knee over him; but, I could see that -he was dying of a wound from a sharp point. -</p> - -<p> -"'I am a doctor, my poor fellow,' said I. 'Let me -examine it.' -</p> - -<p> -'"I do not want it examined,' he answered; 'let it be.' -</p> - -<p> -"It was under his hand, and I soothed him to let -me move his hand away. The wound was a -sword-thrust, received from twenty to twenty-four hours -before, but no skill could have saved him if it had -been looked to without delay. He was then dying -fast. As I turned my eyes to the elder brother, I saw -him looking down at this handsome boy whose life was -ebbing out, as if he were a wounded bird, or hare, or -rabbit; not at all as if he were a fellow-creature. -</p> - -<p> -"'How has this been done, monsieur?' said I. -</p> - -<p> -"'A crazed young common dog! A serf! Forced -my brother to draw upon him, and has fallen by my -brother's sword—like a gentleman.' -</p> - -<p> -"There was no touch of pity, sorrow, or kindred -humanity in this answer. The speaker seemed to -acknowledge that it was inconvenient to have that -different order of creature dying there, and that it -would have been better if he had died in the usual -obscure routine of his vermin kind. He was quite -incapable of any compassionate feeling about the -boy, or about his fate. -</p> - -<p> -"The boy's eyes had slowly moved to him as he -had spoken, and they now slowly moved to me. -</p> - -<p> -"'Doctor, they are very proud, these Nobles; -but we common dogs are proud too, sometimes. -They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but -we have a little pride left, sometimes. She—have -you seen her, Doctor?' -</p> - -<p> -"The shrieks and the cries were audible there, -though subdued by the distance. He referred to -them, as if she were lying in our presence. -</p> - -<p> -"I said, 'I have seen her.' -</p> - -<p> -"'She is my sister, Doctor. They have had their -shameful rights, these Nobles, in the modesty and -virtue of our sisters, many years, but we have had -good girls among us. I know it, and have heard my -father say so. She was a good girl. She was -betrothed to a good young man, too: a tenant of his. -We were all tenants of his—that man's who stands -there. The other is his brother, the worst of a bad -race.' -</p> - -<p> -"It was with the greatest difficulty that the boy -gathered bodily force to speak; but, his spirit spoke -with a dreadful emphasis. -</p> - -<p> -"'We were so robbed by that man who stands -there, as all we common dogs are by those superior -Beings—taxed by him without mercy, obliged to -work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn -at his mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame birds -on our wretched crops, and forbidden for our lives -to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and -plundered to that degree that when we chanced to -have a bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door -barred and the shutters closed, that his people should -not see it and take it from us—I say, we were so -robbed, and hunted, and were made so poor, that -our father told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a -child into the world, and that what we should most -pray for was, that our women might be barren and -our miserable race die out!' -</p> - -<p> -"I had never before seen the sense of being -oppressed bursting forth like a fire. I had supposed -that it must be latent in the people somewhere; but, -I had never seen it break out, until I saw it in the -dying boy. -</p> - -<p> -"'Nevertheless, Doctor, my sister married. He -was ailing at that time, poor fellow, and she married -her lover, that she might tend and comfort him in -our cottage—our dog-hut, as that man would call it. -She had not been married many weeks, when that -man's brother saw her and admired her, and asked -that man to lend her to him—for what are husbands -among us! He was willing enough, but my sister -was good and virtuous, and hated his brother with -a hatred as strong as mine. What did the two then, -to persuade her husband to use his influence with her, -to make her willing?' -</p> - -<p> -"The boy's eyes, which had been fixed on mine, -slowly turned to the looker-on, and I saw in the two -faces that all he said was true. The two opposing -kinds of pride confronting one another, I can see, -even in this Bastille; the gentleman's, all negligent -indifference; the peasant's, all trodden-down -sentiment, and passionate revenge. -</p> - -<p> -"'You know, Doctor, that it is among the Rights -of these Nobles to harness us common dogs to carts, -and drive us. They so harnessed him and drove -him. You know that it is among their Rights to -keep us in their grounds all night, quieting the frogs, -in order that their noble sleep may not be disturbed. -They kept him out in the unwholesome mists at -night and ordered him back into his harness in the -day. But he was not persuaded. No! Taken out -of harness one day at noon, to feed—if he could find -food—he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke -of the bell, and died on her bosom.' -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing human could have held life in the boy -but his determination to tell all his wrong. He forced -back the gathering shadows of death, as he forced -his clenched right hand to remain clenched, and to -cover his wound. -</p> - -<p> -"'Then, with that man's permission and even with -his aid, his brother took her away; in spite of what -I know she must have told his brother—and what -that is, will not be long unknown to you, Doctor, if -it is now—his brother took her away—for his -pleasure and diversion, for a little while. I saw her -pass me on the road. When I took the tidings home, -our father's heart burst; he never spoke one of the -words that filled it. I took my young sister (for I -have another) to a place beyond the reach of this -man, and where, at least, she will never be his vassal. -Then, I tracked the brother here, and last night -climbed in—a common dog, but sword in hand.— Where -is the loft window? It was somewhere here?' -</p> - -<p> -"The room was darkening to his sight; the world -was narrowing around him. I glanced about me, -and saw that the hay and straw were trampled over -the floor, as if there had been a struggle. -</p> - -<p> -"'She heard me, and ran in. I told her not to -come near us till he was dead. He came in and first -tossed me some pieces of money; then struck at me -with a whip. But I, though a common dog, so -struck at him as to make him draw. Let him break -into as many pieces as he will, the sword that he -stained with my common blood; he drew to defend -himself—thrust at me with all his skill for his -life.' -</p> - -<p> -"My glance had fallen, but a few moments before, -on the fragments of a broken sword, lying among -the hay. That weapon was a gentleman's. In -another place, lay an old sword that seemed to have -been a soldier's. -</p> - -<p> -"'Now, lift me up, Doctor; lift me up. Where is -he?' -</p> - -<p> -"'He is not here,' I said, supporting the boy, and -thinking that he referred to the brother. -</p> - -<p> -"'He! Proud as these nobles are, he is afraid to -see me. Where is the man who was here? Turn my -face to him.' -</p> - -<p> -"I did so, raising the boy's head against my knee. -But, invested for the moment with extraordinary -power, he raised himself completely: obliging me -to rise too, or I could not have still supported him. -</p> - -<p> -"'Marquis,' said the boy, turned to him with his -eyes opened wide, and his right hand raised, 'in the -days when all these things are to be answered for, I -summon you and yours, to the last of your bad race, -to answer for them. I mark this cross of blood upon -you, as a sign that I do it. In the days when all -these things are to be answered for, I summon your -brother, the worst of the bad race, to answer for -them separately. I mark this cross of blood upon -him, as a sign that I do it.' -</p> - -<p> -"Twice, he put his hand to the wound in his -breast, and with his forefinger drew a cross in the air. -He stood for an instant with the finger yet raised, -and as it dropped, he dropped with it, and I laid -him down dead. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"When I returned to the bedside of the young -woman, I found her raving in precisely the same -order of continuity. I knew that this might last for -many hours, and that it would probably end in the -silence of the grave. -</p> - -<p> -"I repeated the medicines I had given her, and I -sat at the side of the bed until the night was far -advanced. She never abated the piercing quality -of her shrieks, never stumbled in the distinctness -or order of her words. They were always 'My husband, -my father, and my brother! One, two, three, -four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. -Hush!' -</p> - -<p> -"This lasted twenty-six hours from the time when -I first saw her. I had come and gone twice, and was -again sitting by her, when she began to falter. I -did what little could be done to assist that opportunity, -and by-and-bye she sank into a lethargy, and -lay like the dead. -</p> - -<p> -"It was as if the wind and rain had lulled at last, -after a long and fearful storm. I released her arms, -and called the woman to assist me to compose her -figure and the dress she had torn. It was then that -I knew her condition to be that of one in whom the -first expectations of being a mother have arisen; and -it was then that I lost the little hope I had had of her. -</p> - -<p> -"'Is she dead?' asked the Marquis, whom I will -still describe as the elder brother, coming booted into -the room from his horse. -</p> - -<p> -"'Not dead,' said I; 'but like to die.' -</p> - -<p> -"'What strength there is in these common bodies!' -he said, looking down at her with some curiosity. -</p> - -<p> -"'There is prodigious strength,' I answered him, -'in sorrow and despair.' -</p> - -<p> -"He first laughed at my words, and then frowned -at them. He moved a chair with his foot near to -mine, ordered the woman away, and said in a -subdued voice, -</p> - -<p> -"'Doctor, finding my brother in this difficulty -with these hinds, I recommend that your aid should -be invited. Your reputation is high, and, as a young -man with your fortune to make, you are probably -mindful of your interest. The things that you see -here are things to be seen, and not spoken of.' -</p> - -<p> -"I listened to the patient's breathing, and avoided -answering. -</p> - -<p> -"'Do you honour me with your attention, Doctor?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Monsieur,' said I, 'in my profession, the -communications of patients are always received in -confidence.' I was guarded in my answer, for I was -troubled in my mind with what I had heard and -seen. -</p> - -<p> -"Her breathing was so difficult to trace, that I -carefully tried the pulse and the heart. There was -life, and no more. Looking round as I resumed -my seat, I found both the brothers intent upon -me. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"I write with so much difficulty, the cold is so -severe, I am so fearful of being detected and -consigned to an underground cell and total darkness, -that I must abridge this narrative. There is no -confusion or failure in my memory; I can recall, and -could detail, every word that was ever spoken -between me and those brothers. -</p> - -<p> -"She lingered for a week. Toward the last, I -could understand some few syllables that she said -to me, by placing my ear close to her lips. She -asked me where she was, and I told her; who I was, -and I told her. It was in vain that I asked her for -her family name. She faintly shook her head -upon the pillow and kept her secret, as the boy -had done. -</p> - -<p> -"I had no opportunity of asking her any question, -until I had told the brothers she was sinking fast, -and could not live another day. Until then, though -no one was ever presented to her consciousness save -the woman and myself, one or the other of them had -always jealously sat behind the curtain at the head -of the bed when I was there. But when it came to -that, they seemed careless what communication I -might hold with her; as if—the thought passed -through my mind—I were dying too. -</p> - -<p> -"I always observed that their pride bitterly -resented the younger brother's (as I call him) having -crossed swords with a peasant, and that peasant a -boy. The only consideration that appeared to affect -the mind of either of them was the consideration that -this was highly degrading to the family, and was -ridiculous. As often as I caught the younger -brother's eyes, their expression reminded me that he -disliked me deeply, for knowing what I knew from the -boy. He was smoother and more polite to me than -the elder; but I saw this. I also saw that I was an -incumbrance in the mind of the elder, too. -</p> - -<p> -"My patient died, two hours before midnight—at -a time, by my watch, answering almost to the -minute when I had first seen her. I was alone with -her, when her forlorn young head drooped gently -on one side, and all her earthly wrongs and sorrows -ended. -</p> - -<p> -"The brothers were waiting in a room downstairs, -impatient to ride away. I had heard them, alone at -the bedside, striking their boots with their -riding-whips, and loitering up and down. -</p> - -<p> -"'At last she is dead?' said the elder, when I went -in. -</p> - -<p> -"'She is dead,' said I. -</p> - -<p> -"'I congratulate you, my brother,' were his words -as he turned round. -</p> - -<p> -"He had before offered me money, which I had -postponed taking. He now gave me a rouleau of -gold. I took it from his hand, but laid it on the table. -I had considered the question, and had resolved to -accept nothing. -</p> - -<p> -"'Pray excuse me,' said I. 'Under the -circumstances, no.' -</p> - -<p> -"They exchanged looks, but bent their heads to -me as I bent mine to them, and we parted without -another word on either side. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"I am weary, weary, weary—worn down by -misery. I cannot read what I have written with -this gaunt hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Early in the morning, the rouleau of gold was -left at my door in a little box, with my name on the -outside. From the first, I had anxiously considered -what I ought to do. I decided, that day, to write -privately to the Minister, stating the nature of the -two cases to which I had been summoned, and the -place to which I had gone: in effect, stating all the -circumstances. I knew what Court influence was, -and what the immunities of the Nobles were, and -I expected that the matter would never be heard of; -but, I wished to relieve my own mind. I had kept -the matter a profound secret, even from my wife; -and this, too, I resolved to state in my letter. I had -no apprehension whatever of my real danger; but I -was conscious that there might be danger for others, -if others were compromised by possessing the -knowledge that I possessed. -</p> - -<p> -"I was much engaged that day, and could not -complete my letter that night. I rose long before -my usual time next morning to finish it. It was the -last day of the year. The letter was lying before -me just completed, when I was told that a lady -waited, who wished to see me. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"I am growing more and more unequal to the task -I have set myself. It is so cold, so dark, my senses -are so benumbed, and the gloom upon me is so dreadful. -</p> - -<p> -"The lady was young, engaging, and handsome, -but not marked for long life. She was in great -agitation. She presented herself to me as the wife of the -Marquis St. Evrémonde. I connected the title by -which the boy had addressed the elder brother, with -the initial letter embroidered on the scarf, and had -no difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that I had -seen that nobleman very lately. -</p> - -<p> -"My memory is still accurate, but I cannot write -the words of our conversation. I suspect that I am -watched more closely than I was, and I know not -at what times I may be watched. She had in part -suspected, and in part discovered, the main facts of -the cruel story, of her husband's share in it, and my -being resorted to. She did not know that the girl -was dead. Her hope had been, she said in great -distress, to show her, in secret, a woman's sympathy. -Her hope had been to avert the wrath of Heaven -from a House that had long been hateful to the -suffering many. -</p> - -<p> -"She had reasons for believing that there was a -young sister living, and her greatest desire was, to -help that sister. I could tell her nothing but that -there was such a sister; beyond that, I knew -nothing. Her inducement to come to me, relying on my -confidence, had been the hope that I could tell her -the name and place of abode. Whereas, to this -wretched hour I am ignorant of both. * * * * -</p> - -<p> -"These scraps of paper fail me. One was taken -from me, with a warning, yesterday. I must finish -my record to-day. -</p> - -<p> -"She was a good, compassionate lady, and not -happy in her marriage. How could she be! The -brother distrusted and disliked her, and his influence -was all opposed to her; she stood in dread of him, -and in dread of her husband too. When I handed -her down to the door, there was a child, a pretty boy -from two to three years old, in her carriage. -</p> - -<p> -"'For his sake, Doctor,' she said, pointing to him -in tears, 'I would do all I can to make what poor -amends I can. He will never prosper in his inheritance -otherwise. I have a presentiment that if no -other innocent atonement is made for this, it will one -day be required of him. What I have left to call my -own—it is little beyond the worth of a few jewels—I -will make it the first charge of his life to bestow, -with the compassion and lamentation of his dead -mother, on this injured family, if the sister can be -discovered.' -</p> - -<p> -"She kissed the boy, and said, caressing him, 'It -is for thine own dear sake. Thou wilt be faithful, -little Charles?' The child answered her bravely, -'Yes!' I kissed her hand, and she took him in her -arms, and went away caressing him. I never saw -her more. -</p> - -<p> -"As she had mentioned her husband's name in -the faith that I knew it, I added no mention of it to -my letter. I sealed my letter, and, not trusting it -out of my own hands, delivered it myself that day. -</p> - -<p> -"That night, the last night of the year, toward -nine o'clock, a man in a black dress rang at my gate, -demanded to see me, and softly followed my servant, -Ernest Defarge, a youth, up-stairs. When my -servant came into the room where I sat with my -wife—O my wife, beloved of my heart! My fair young -English wife!—we saw the man, who was supposed to -be at the gate, standing silent behind him. -</p> - -<p> -"An urgent case in the Rue St. Honoré, he said. -It would not detain me, he had a coach in waiting. -</p> - -<p> -"It brought me here, it brought me to my grave. -When I was clear of the house, a black muffler was -drawn tightly over my mouth from behind, and my -arms were pinioned. The two brothers crossed the -road from a dark corner, and identified me with a -single gesture. The Marquis took from his pocket -the letter I had written, showed it me, burnt it in -the light of a lantern that was held, and extinguished -the ashes with his foot. Not a word was spoken. I -was brought here, I was brought to my living grave. -</p> - -<p> -"If it had pleased God to put it in the hard heart -of either of the brothers, in all these frightful years, -to grant me any tidings of my dearest wife—so -much as to let me know by a word whether alive or -dead—I might have thought that He had not quite -abandoned them. But, now I believe that the mark -of the red cross is fatal to them, and that they have -no part in His mercies. And them and their -descendants, to the last of their race, I, Alexandre -Manette, unhappy prisoner, do this last night of the -year 1767, in my unbearable agony, denounce to -the times when all these things shall be answered for. -I denounce them to Heaven and to earth." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h3> -VIII -<br /><br /> -SILENCE* -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> -LEONIDAS ANDREIYEFF -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -*Reprinted by permission of Nicholas L. Brown, Publisher. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -I -</p> - -<p> -One moonlight night in May, while the -nightingales sang, Father Ignatius' wife entered -his chamber. Her countenance expressed -suffering, and the little lamp she held in her hand -trembled. Approaching her husband, she touched -his shoulder, and managed to say between her sobs: -</p> - -<p> -"Father, let us go to Verochka." -</p> - -<p> -Without turning his head, Father Ignatius glanced -severely at his wife over the rims of his spectacles, -and looked long and intently, till she waved her -unoccupied hand and dropped on a low divan. -</p> - -<p> -"That one toward the other be so pitiless!" she -pronounced slowly, with emphasis on the final -syllables, and her good plump face was distorted with a -grimace of pain and exasperation, as if in this manner -she wished to express what stern people they -were—her husband and daughter. -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius smiled and arose. Closing his -book, he removed his spectacles, placed them in the -case, and meditated. His long, black beard, -inwoven with silver threads, lay dignified on his -breast, and it slowly heaved at every deep breath. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, let us go!" said he. -</p> - -<p> -Olga Stepanovna quickly arose and entreated -in an appealing, timid voice: -</p> - -<p> -"Only don't revile her, father! You know the -sort she is." -</p> - -<p> -Vera's chamber was in the attic, and the narrow, -wooden stair bent and creaked under the heavy -tread of Father Ignatius. Tall and ponderous, he -lowered his head to avoid striking the floor of the -upper story, and frowned disdainfully when the -white jacket of his wife brushed his face. Well he -knew that nothing would come of their talk with -Vera. -</p> - -<p> -"Why do you come?" asked Vera, raising a -bared arm to her eyes. The other arm lay on top -of a white summer blanket hardly distinguishable -from the fabric, so white, translucent, and cold was -its aspect. -</p> - -<p> -"Verochka!" began her mother, but sobbing, -she grew silent. -</p> - -<p> -"Vera!" said her father, making an effort to -soften his dry and hard voice. "Vera, tell us, what -troubles you?" -</p> - -<p> -Vera was silent. -</p> - -<p> -"Vera, do not we, your mother and I, deserve -your confidence? Do we not love you? And is -there someone nearer to you than we? Tell us -about your sorrow, and, believe me, you'll feel better -for it. And we too. Look at your aged mother, -how much she suffers!" -</p> - -<p> -"Verochka!" -</p> - -<p> -"And I..." The dry voice trembled, -truly something had broken in it. "And I ... do -you think I find it easy? As if I did not see -that some sorrow is gnawing at you—and what is -it? And I, your father, do not know what it is. -Is it right that it should be so?" -</p> - -<p> -Vera was silent. Father Ignatius very cautiously -stroked his beard, as if afraid that his fingers -would enmesh themselves involuntarily in it, and -continued: -</p> - -<p> -"Against my wish you went to St. Petersburg—did -I pronounce a curse upon you, you who disobeyed -me? Or did I not give you money? Or, -you'll say, I have not been kind? Well, why then -are you silent? There, you've had your St. Petersburg!" -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius became silent, and an image -arose before him of something huge, of granite, -and terrible, full of invisible dangers and strange -and indifferent people. And there, alone and -weak, was his Vera and there they had lost her. An -awful hatred against that terrible and mysterious -city grew in the soul of Father Ignatius, and an -anger against his daughter who was silent, -obstinately silent. -</p> - -<p> -"St. Petersburg has nothing to do with it," said -Vera, morosely, and closed her eyes. "And nothing -is the matter with me. Better go to bed, it is late." -</p> - -<p> -"Verochka," whimpered her mother. "Little -daughter, do confess to me." -</p> - -<p> -"Akh, mamma!" impatiently Vera interrupted her. -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius sat down on a chair and laughed. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, then it's nothing?" he inquired, ironically. -</p> - -<p> -"Father," sharply put in Vera, raising herself -from the pillow, "you know that I love you and -mother. Well, I do feel a little weary. But that -will pass. Do go to sleep, and I also wish to sleep. -And to-morrow, or some other time, we'll have a -chat." -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius impetuously arose so that the -chair hit the wall, and took his wife's hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us go." -</p> - -<p> -"Verochka!" -</p> - -<p> -"Let us go, I tell you!" shouted Father Ignatius. -"If she has forgotten God, shall we..." -</p> - -<p> -Almost forcibly he led Olga Stepanovna out of -the room, and when they descended the stairs, his -wife, decreasing her gait, said in a harsh whisper: -</p> - -<p> -"It was you, priest, who have made her such. -From you she learnt her ways. And you'll answer -for it. Akh, unhappy creature that I am!" -</p> - -<p> -And she wept, and, as her eyes filled with tears, -her foot, missing a step, would descend with a -sudden jolt, as if she were eager to fall into some -existent abyss below. -</p> - -<p> -From that day Father Ignatus ceased to speak -with his daughter, but she seemed not to notice -it. As before she lay in her room, or walked about, -continually wiping her eyes with the palms of her -hands as if they contained some irritating foreign -substance. And crushed between these two silent -people, the jolly, fun-loving wife of the priest -quailed and seemed lost, not knowing what to say -or do. -</p> - -<p> -Occasionally Vera took a stroll. A week following -the interview she went out in the evening, as was her -habit. She was not seen alive again, as on this -evening she threw herself under the train, which -cut her in two. -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius himself directed the funeral. -His wife was not present in church, as at the news -of Vera's death she was prostrated by a stroke. -She lost control of her feet, hands, and tongue, and -she lay motionless in the semi-darkened room when -the church bells rang out. She heard the people, as -they issued out of church and passed the house, -intone the chants, and she made an effort to raise -her hand, and to make a sign of the cross, but her -hand refused to obey; she wished to say: "Farewell, -Vera!" but the tongue lay in her mouth huge -and heavy. And her attitude was so calm, that it -gave one an impression of restfulness or sleep. Only -her eyes remained open. -</p> - -<p> -At the funeral, in church, were many people who -knew Father Ignatius, and many strangers, and all -bewailed Vera's terrible death, and tried to find in -the movements and voice of Father Ignatius tokens -of a deep sorrow. They did not love Father Ignatius -because of his severity and proud manners, his -scorn of sinners, for his unforgiving spirit, his envy -and covetousness, his habit of utilising every -opportunity to extort money from his parishioners. They -all wished to see him suffer, to see his spirit broken, -to see him conscious in his two-fold guilt for the -death of his daughter—as a cruel father and a bad -priest—incapable of preserving his own flesh from -sin. They cast searching glances at him, and he, -feeling these glances directed toward his back, -made efforts to hold erect its broad and strong -expanse, and his thoughts were not concerning his -dead daughter, but concerning his own dignity. -</p> - -<p> -"A hardened priest!" said, with a shake of his -head, Karzenoff, a carpenter, to whom Father -Ignatius owed five roubles for frames. -</p> - -<p> -And thus, hard and erect, Father Ignatius reached -the burial ground, and in the same manner he -returned. Only at the door of his wife's chamber -did his spine relax a little, but this may have been -due to the fact that the height of the door was -inadequate to admit his tall figure. The change from -broad daylight made it difficult for him to -distinguish the face of his wife, but, after scrutiny, he -was astonished at its calmness and because the eyes -showed no tears. And there was neither anger, -nor sorrow in the eyes—they were dumb, and they -kept silent with difficulty, reluctantly, as did the -entire plump and helpless body, pressing against -the feather bedding. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, how do you feel?" inquired Father Ignatius. -</p> - -<p> -The lips, however, were dumb; the eyes also -were silent. Father Ignatius laid his hand on -her forehead; it was cold and moist, and Olga -Stepanovna did not show in any way that she had felt -the hand's contact. When Father Ignatius -removed his hand there gazed at him, immobile, two -deep grey eyes, seeming almost entirely dark from -the dilated pupils, and there was neither sadness -in them, nor anger. -</p> - -<p> -"I am going into my own room," said Father -Ignatius, who began to feel cold and terror. -</p> - -<p> -He passed through the drawing-room, where -everything appeared neat and in order, as usual, -and where, attired in white covers, stood tall chairs, -like corpses in their shrouds. Over one window -hung an empty wire cage, with the door open. -</p> - -<p> -"Nastasya!" shouted Father Ignatius, and his -voice seemed to him coarse, and he felt ill at ease -because he raised his voice so high in these silent -rooms, so soon after his daughter's funeral. -"Nastasya!" he called out in a lower tone of voice, "where -is the canary?" -</p> - -<p> -"She flew away, to be sure." -</p> - -<p> -"Why did you let it out?" -</p> - -<p> -Nastasya began to weep, and wiping her face -with the edges of her calico headkerchief, said -through her tears: -</p> - -<p> -"It was my young mistress's soul. Was it right -to hold it?" -</p> - -<p> -And it seemed to Father Ignatius that the yellow, -happy little canary, always singing with inclined -head, was really the soul of Vera, and if it had not -flown away it wouldn't have been possible to say -that Vera had died. He became even more -incensed at the maid-servant, and shouted: -</p> - -<p> -"Off with you!" -</p> - -<p> -And when Nastasya did not find the door at once -he added: -</p> - -<p> -"Fool!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -II -</p> - -<p> -From the day of the funeral silence reigned in -the little house. It was not stillness, for stillness -is merely the absence of sounds; it was silence, -because it seemed that they who were silent could -say something but would not. So thought Father -Ignatius each time he entered his wife's chamber -and met that obstinate gaze, so heavy in its aspect -that it seemed to transform the very air into lead, -which bore down one's head and spine. So thought -he, examining his daughter's music sheets, which -bore imprints of her voice, as well as her books and -her portrait, which she brought with her from -St. Petersburg. Father Ignatius was accustomed -to scrutinise the portrait in established order: -First, he would gaze on the cheek upon which a -strong light was thrown by the painter; in his fancy -he would see upon it a slight wound, which he had -noticed on Vera's cheek in death, and the source of -which he could not understand. Each time he -would meditate upon causes; he reasoned that if it -was made by the train the entire head would have -been crushed, whereas the head of Vera remained -wholly untouched. It was possible that -someone did it with his foot when the corpse was -removed, or accidentally with a finger nail. -</p> - -<p> -To contemplate at length upon the details of -Vera's death taxed the strength of Father Ignatius, -so that he would pass on to the eyes. These were -dark, handsome, with long lashes, which cast deep -shadows beneath, causing the whites to seem particularly -luminous, both eyes appearing to be inclosed -in black, mourning frames. A strange expression -was given them by the unknown but talented artist; -it seemed as if in the space between the eyes and the -object upon which they gazed there lay a thin, -transparent film. It resembled somewhat the effect -obtained by an imperceptible layer of dust on the -black top of a piano, softening the shine of polished -wood. And no matter how Father Ignatius placed -the portrait, the eyes insistently followed him, but -there was no speech in them, only silence; and this -silence was so clear that it seemed it could be heard. -And gradually Father Ignatius began to think that -he heard silence. -</p> - -<p> -Every morning after breakfast Father Ignatius -would enter the drawing-room, throw a rapid -glance at the empty cage and the other familiar -objects, and seating himself in the armchair would -close his eyes and listen to the silence of the house. -There was something grotesque about this. The -cage kept silence, stilly and tenderly, and in this -silence were felt sorrow and tears, and distant dead -laughter. The silence of his wife, softened by the -walls, continued insistent, heavy as lead, and terrible, -so terrible that on the hottest day Father Ignatius -would be seized by cold shivers. Continuous -and cold as the grave, and mysterious as death, -was the silence of his daughter. The silence itself -seemed to share this suffering and struggled, as it -were, with the terrible desire to pass into speech; -however, something strong and cumbersome, as a -machine, held it motionless and stretched it out as a -wire. And somewhere at the distant end, the wire -would begin to agitate and resound subduedly, -feebly, and plaintively. With joy, yet with terror, -Father Ignatius would seize upon this engendered -sound, and resting with his arms upon the arms -of the chair, would lean his head forward, awaiting -the sound to reach him. But the sound would -break and pass into silence. -</p> - -<p> -"How stupid!" muttered Father Ignatius, angrily, -arising from the chair, still erect and tall. Through -the window he saw, suffused with sunlight, the -street, which was paved with round, even-sized -stones, and directly across, the stone wall of a long, -windowless shed. On the corner stood a cab-driver, -resembling a clay statue, and it was difficult to -understand why he stood there, when for hours -there was not a single passer-by. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -III -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius had occasion for considerable -speech outside his house. There was talking to -be done with the clergy, with the members of his -flock, while officiating at ceremonies, sometimes -with acquaintances at social evenings; yet, upon his -return he would feel invariably that the entire day -he had been silent. This was due to the fact that -with none of those people he could talk upon that -matter which concerned him most, and upon which he -would contemplate each night: Why did Vera die? -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius did not seem to understand that -now this could not be known, and still thought it -was possible to know. Each night—all his nights -had become sleepless—he would picture that minute -when he and his wife, in dead midnight, stood near -Vera's bed, and he entreated her: "Tell us!" And -when in his recollection, he would reach these words, -the rest appeared to him not as it was in reality. -His closed eyes, preserving in their darkness a live -and undimmed picture of that night, saw how Vera -raised herself in her bed, smiled and tried to say -something. And what was that she tried to say? -That unuttered word of Vera's, which should have -solved all, seemed so near, that if one only had bent -his ear and suppressed the beats of his heart, one -could have heard it, and at the same time it was so -infinitely, so hopelessly distant. Father Ignatius -would arise from his bed, stretch forth his joined -hands and, wringing them, would exclaim: -</p> - -<p> -"Vera!" -</p> - -<p> -And he would be answered by silence. -</p> - -<p> -One evening Father Ignatius entered the chamber -of Olga Stepanovna, whom he had not come to see -for a week, seated himself at her head, and turning -away from that insistent, heavy gaze, said: -</p> - -<p> -"Mother! I wish to talk to you about Vera. -Do you hear?" -</p> - -<p> -Her eyes were silent, and Father Ignatius raising -his voice, spoke sternly and powerfully, as he was -accustomed to speak with penitents: -</p> - -<p> -"I am aware that you are under the impression -that I have been the cause of Vera's death. Reflect, -however, did I love her less than you loved her? -You reason absurdly. I have been stern; did that -prevent her from doing as she wished? I have -forfeited the dignity of a father, I humbly bent my -neck, when she defied my malediction and departed -hence. And you—did you not entreat her to remain, -until I commanded you to be silent. Did I beget -cruelty in her? Did I not teach her about God, -about humility, about love?" -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius quickly glanced into the eyes of -his wife, and turned away. -</p> - -<p> -"What was there for me to do when she did not -wish to reveal her sorrow? Did I not command -her? Did I not entreat her? I suppose, in your -opinion, I should have dropped on my knees before -the maid, and cried like an old woman! How -should I know what was going on in her head! -Cruel, heartless daughter!" -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius hit his knees with his fist. -</p> - -<p> -"There was no love in her—that's what! As -far as I'm concerned, that's settled, of course—I'm -a tyrant! Perhaps she loved you—you, who wept -and humbled yourself?" -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius gave a hollow laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"There's love for you! And as a solace for you, -what a death she chose! A cruel, ignominious -death. She died in the dust, in the dirt—as a -d-dog who is kicked in the jaw." -</p> - -<p> -The voice of Father Ignatius sounded low and -hoarse: -</p> - -<p> -"I feel ashamed! Ashamed to go out in the -street! Ashamed before the altar! Ashamed before -God! Cruel, undeserving daughter! Accurst in -thy grave!" -</p> - -<p> -When Father Ignatius glanced at his wife she -was unconscious, and revived only after several -hours. When she regained consciousness her eyes -were silent, and it was impossible to tell whether -or not she remembered what Father Ignatius had -said. -</p> - -<p> -That very night—it was a moonlit, calm, warm -and deathly-still night in May—Father Ignatius, -proceeding on his tip-toes, so as not to be -overheard by his wife and the sick-nurse, climbed up the -stairs and entered Vera's room. The window in the -attic had remained closed since the death of Verar -and the atmosphere was dry and warm, with a light -odour of burning that comes from heat generated -during the day in the iron roof. The air of -lifelessness and abandonment permeated the apartment, -which for a long time had remained unvisited, and -where the timber of the walls, the furniture, and -other objects gave forth a slight odour of continued -putrescence. A bright streak of moonlight fell on -the window-sill, and on the floor, and, reflected by -the white, carefully washed boards, cast a dim light -into the room's corners, while the white, clean bed, -with two pillows, one large and one small, seemed -phantom-like and aerial. Father Ignatius opened -the window, causing to pour into the room a -considerable current of fresh air, smelling of dust, of -the nearby river, and the blooming linden. An -indistinct sound as of voices in chorus also entered -occasionally; evidently young people rowed and -sang. -</p> - -<p> -Quietly treading with naked feet, resembling a -white phanton, Father Ignatius made his way to -the vacant bed, bent his knees and fell face down -on the pillows, embracing them—on that spot -where should have been Vera's face. Long he lay -thus; the song grew louder, then died out; but he -still lay there, while his long, black hair spread over -his shoulders and the bed. -</p> - -<p> -The moon had changed its position, and the -room grew darker, when Father Ignatius raised -his head and murmured, putting into his voice -the entire strength of his long-suppressed and -unconscious love and hearkening to his own -words, as if it were not he who was listening, but -Vera. -</p> - -<p> -"Vera, daughter mine! Do you understand what -you are to me, daughter? Little daughter! My -heart, my blood, and my life. Your father—your -old father—is already grey, and also feeble." -</p> - -<p> -The shoulders of Father Ignatius shook and the -entire burdened figure became agitated. Suppressing -his agitation, Father Ignatius murmured tenderly, -as to an infant: -</p> - -<p> -"Your old father entreats you. No, little Vera, -he supplicates. He weeps. He never has wept -before. Your sorrow, little child, your -sufferings—they are also mine. Greater than mine." -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius shook his head. -</p> - -<p> -"Greater, Verochka. What is death to an old -man like me? But you—if you only knew how -delicate and weak and timid you are! Do you recall -how you bruised your finger once and the blood -trickled and you cried a little? My child! I know -that you love me, love me intensely. Every morning -you kiss my hand. Tell me, do tell me, what grief -troubles your little head, and I—with these -hands—shall smother your grief. They are still strong, Vera, -these hands." -</p> - -<p> -The hair of Father Ignatius shook. -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me!" -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius fixed his eyes on the wall, and -wrung his hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me!" -</p> - -<p> -Stillness prevailed in the room, and from afar was -heard the prolonged and broken whistle of a -locomotive. -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius, gazing out of his dilated eyes, as -if there had arisen suddenly before him the frightful -phantom of the mutilated corpse, slowly raised -himself from his knees, and with a credulous motion -reached for his head with his hand, with spread and -tensely stiffened fingers. Making a step toward the -door, Father Ignatius whispered brokenly: -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me!" -</p> - -<p> -And he was answered by silence. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -IV -</p> - -<p> -The next day, after an early and lonely dinner, -Father Ignatius went to the graveyard, the first -time since his daughter's death. It was warm, -deserted and still; it seemed more like an illumined -night. Following habit, Father Ignatius, with -effort, straightened his spine, looked severely about -him, and thought that he was the same as formerly; -he was conscious neither of the new, terrible weakness -in his legs, nor that his long beard had become -entirely white as if a hard frost had hit it. The road -to the graveyard led through a long, direct street, -slightly on an upward incline, and at its termination -loomed the arch of the graveyard gate, resembling a -dark, perpetually open mouth, edged with glistening -teeth. -</p> - -<p> -Vera's grave was situated in the depth of the -grounds, where the sandy little pathways terminated, -and Father Ignatius, for a considerable time, was -obliged to blunder along the narrow footpaths, which -led in a broken line between green mounds, by all -forgotten and abandoned. Here and there appeared, -green with age, sloping tombstones, broken railings, -and large, heavy stones planted in the ground, and -seemingly crushing it with some cruel, ancient spite. -Near one such stone was the grave of Vera. It was -covered with fresh turf, turned yellow; around, -however, all was in bloom. Ash embraced maple -tree; and the widely spread hazel bush stretched out -over the grave its bending branches with their -downy, shaggy foliage. Sitting down on a neighbouring -grave and catching his breath, Father Ignatius -looked around him, throwing a glance upon the -cloudless, desert sky, where in complete immovability -hung the glowing sun disk—and here he only -felt that deep, incomparable stillness which reigns in -graveyards, when the wind is absent and the -slumbering foliage has ceased its rustling. And anew -the thought came to Father Ignatius that this was -not a stillness but a silence. It extended to the very -brick walls of the graveyard, crept over them and -occupied the city. And it terminated only—in those -grey, obstinate and reluctantly silent eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius' shoulders shivered, and he -lowered his eyes upon the grave of Vera. He gazed -long upon the little tufts of grass uprooted together -with the earth from some open, wind-swept field and -not successful in adapting themselves to a strange -soil; he could not imagine that there, under this -grass, only a few feet from him, lay Vera. And this -nearness seemed incomprehensible and brought -confusion into the soul and a strange agitation. She, -of whom Father Ignatius was accustomed to think -of as one passed away forever into the dark depths -of eternity, was here, close by—and it was hard to -understand that she, nevertheless, was no more and -never again would be. And in the mind's fancy of -Father Ignatius it seemed that if he could only utter -some word, which was almost upon his lips, or if he -could make some sort of movement, Vera would -issue forth from her grave and arise to the same -height and beauty that was once hers. And not -alone would she arise, but all corpses, intensely -sensitive in their solemnly-cold silence. -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius removed his wide-brimmed black -hat, smoothed down his disarranged hair, and -whispered: -</p> - -<p> -"Vera!" -</p> - -<p> -Father Ignatius felt ill at ease, fearing to be -overheard by a stranger, and stepping on the grave he -gazed around him. No one was present, and this -time he repeated loudly: -</p> - -<p> -"Vera!" -</p> - -<p> -It was the voice of an aged man, sharp and -demanding, and it was strange that a so powerfully -expressed desire should remain without answer. -</p> - -<p> -"Vera!" -</p> - -<p> -Loudly and insistently the voice called, and when -it relapsed into silence, it seemed for a moment that -somewhere from underneath came an incoherent -answer. And Father Ignatius, clearing his ear of -his long hair, pressed it to the rough, prickly turf. -</p> - -<p> -"Vera, tell me!" -</p> - -<p> -With terror, Father Ignatius felt pouring into his -ear something cold as of the grave, which froze his -marrow; Vera seemed to be speaking—speaking, -however, with the same unbroken silence. This -feeling became more racking and terrible, and when -Father Ignatius forced himself finally to tear away -his head, his face was pale as that of a corpse, and -he fancied that the entire atmosphere trembled and -palpitated from a resounding silence, and that this -terrible sea was being swept by a wild hurricane. -The silence strangled him; with icy waves it rolled -through his head and agitated the hair; it smote -against his breast, which groaned under the blows. -Trembling from head to foot, casting around him -sharp and sudden glances, Father Ignatius slowly -raised himself and with a prolonged and torturous -effort attempted to straighten his spine and to give -proud dignity to his trembling body. He succeeded -in this. With measured protractiveness, Father -Ignatius shook the dirt from his knees, put on his -hat, made the sign of the cross three times over the -grave, and walked away with an even and firm gait, -not recognising, however, the familiar burial ground -and losing his way. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, here I've gone astray!" smiled Father -Ignatius, halting at the branching of the footpaths. -</p> - -<p> -He stood there for a moment, and, unreflecting -turned to the left, because it was impossible to stand -and wait. The silence drove him on. It arose -from the green graves; it was the breath issuing -from the grey, melancholy crosses; in thin, stifling -currents it came from all pores of the earth, satiated -with the dead. Father Ignatius increased his stride. -Dizzy, he circled the same paths, jumped over -graves, stumbled across railings, clutching with his -hands the prickly, metallic garlands, and tearing -the soft material of his dress into tatters. His sole -thought was to escape. He fled from one place to -another, and finally broke into a dead run, seeming -very tall and unusual in the flowing cassock, with his -hair streaming in the wind. A corpse arisen from -the grave could not have frightened a passer-by -more than this wild figure of a man, running and -leaping, and waving his arms, his face distorted and -insane, and the open mouth breathing with a dull, -hoarse sound. With one long leap, Father Ignatius -landed on a little street, at one end of which appeared -the small church attached to the graveyard. At the -entrance, on a low bench, dozed an old man, seemingly -a distant pilgrim, and near him, assailing each -other, were two quarrelling old beggar women, filling -the air with their oaths. -</p> - -<p> -When Father Ignatius reached his home, it was -already dusk, and there was light in Olga Stepanovna's -chamber. Not undressing and without removing -his hat, dusty and tattered, Father Ignatius -approached his wife and fell on his knees. "Mother -... Olga ... have pity on me!" he wept. -"I shall go mad." -</p> - -<p> -He dashed his head against the edge of the table -and he wept with anguish, as one who was weeping -for the first time. Then he raised his head, confident -that a miracle would come to pass, that his wife -would speak and would pity him. -</p> - -<p> -"My love!" -</p> - -<p> -With his entire big body he drew himself toward -his wife—and met the gaze of those grey eyes. -There was neither compassion in them, nor anger. -It was possible his wife had forgiven him, but in her -eyes there was neither pity, nor anger. They were -dumb and silent. -</p> - -<p class="t3"> -* * * * * * * -</p> - -<p> -And silent was the entire dark, deserted house. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -END -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Masterpieces of Adventure--Adventures -within Walls, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADVENTURE--ADVENTURES WITHIN WALLS *** - -***** This file should be named 63016-h.htm or 63016-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/0/1/63016/ - -Produced by Al Haines -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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