THE WOMAN OF FIEE.
mother's observations had not made a very lasting impression
on his spirits.
The suggestions made by Mme. d'Aubier were in fact only
inopportune. He did not object to marriage on principle,
and the thought of marrying Mlle, de Fioux, with all her
grace and beauty, had brought a smile to his lips more than
once. But it was not in order to marry that Lucien had
asked a vacation of a month from the Keeper of the Seals,
and had said farewell to his duties at Nantes and had has-
tened to the sea-shore. He had arrived only an hour before,
and had come in search of rest, freedom from care, and also
for amusement. Marriage could offer many guarantees for
happiness, but at this time he craved only rest. He had said
to himself over and over again in the last few weeks, " When
can I ever hope to have a month of absolute laziness?"
He had it now, and he wished to profit by it, absolutely
and completely. This man, though only twenty-five in years,
was in reality much older in feeling. His duties had been
laborious and absorbing; his position conspicuous and ex-
citing. And he now felt an imperious need to enjoy life. If
the idea of remaining at Pouliguen had not pleased him at
first, it was because he feared that in so small a place his lib-
erty would be restricted, and that he could not live as quietly
as he pleased, and in as secluded a fashion as suited him.
He wanted to throw aside the magistrate's robes, and assume
once more the jacket and round cap of the bather. At col-
lege he had been regarded as very wonderful. He bore off all
the prizes, year after year. From college he went directly to
the Law School, and in four years was admitted to the bar.
Then, thanks to the influence of his father, Procureur-gn-
ral in Paris, who died the following year, he was made Dis-
trict Attorney in the Provinces.
Therefore it will be seen that from the first year he went to
college he had never had time to draw a long breathto
live, in short.    He cried out, "I need rest!"
The reply was:
"Look ahead! There are prizes, diplomas, promotion and
honors!"
He said to himself, "I have a heart like other menwhy
am I not allowed to listen to its dictateswhy should I not
love?"
Alas! Love demanded too much timehe had no right to
waste time in such a way. His duties and his occupations
precluded all such possibilities, and he decided that his head
alone must actevery other organ was only a hindrance in his
carear. In the end the head over. iled the heart, which
Lucien had now ceased to hear beat. It was no longer with
him the center of moral sensibility, the seat of passion; it
was a simple viscera situated in the breast.
But before being crushed and annihilated, had not this
organ of which we have just spoken rebelled against its Op-
pressors? By no means. Its proprietor had given it no
time to do so, and had hardly permitted it at rare internals,
in brief moments of leisure, vague aspirations toward another
state.
And yet within this oppressed and subjugated nature there
was so much vigorous youth and latent force that only an ac-
cident, a spark, a gleam of sunshine or of love, as the poet
says, was needed to break the shackles and crush the Polar ice
around it.
All about Lucien at this time seemed to concur in this
transformation. Nature had adorned herself in all her glory
to receive him at Pouliguen. The weather, which had been a
little cold since the beginning of the summer, had suddenly
changed the previous night under the influence of the new
moon, and never had the skies been more beautiful or the
sun more brilliant. Never had this pretty corner of Brittany,
whose charms Balzac has sung in " Beatrix," looked more
lovely. The waves were trembling in luminous and transpar-
ent masses upon the beach, and after breaking on the first
rocks they rolled slowly up on the silvery sand, spreading in
irregular lines, and then retreating only to gather additional
vigor and return again to cover the beach with white foam.
As the water retreated it left behind a long line of sea-weeds
that filled the air with their briny odor.
Hundreds of aquatic birds, detained in the south by the
cold, appeared now on the coast of Brittany, and saluted this
beloved spot with joyous cries; the fleet signaled an hour be-
fore was just .anchoring in the bay, and the fishermen were
taking down their sails and singing one of their old and pict-
uresque Breton songs.
These songs, these cries, the view and the odors, the roar
of  the sea sinking sometimes into a plaintive murmur, the '
sunset, the warmth, the revivifying airall warmed Lucien's
blood. He already seemed to have forgotten his habitual re-
servehis manner had more ease, and he had even conde-
scended to unbutton the upper part of his vest, which was too-
tight, his cravat was looser, and his general appearance was
far less stiff. To protect his head from the rays of the sun,
he had even placed a handkerchief within kis felt hat between
that and his head.
His manner corresponded with his most irregular toilet.
He walked about on the shore, picking up shells and sniffing
the salt air, going down close to the water as the waves re-
treated, and then flying before them as they rolled up.
Finally, a little fatigued by all this out-of-door exercise,
by his journey, and by this strong air to which he was unac-
customed, he took advantage of a hole dug by the children
in the sand, and seated himself on the edge, allowing his legs
to dangle within it.
He had been sitting for some fifteen minutes in this fan-
tastic position, when he was joined, not to say surprised, by
a man of about forty, in a costume of white coutil, who wore
on his head a magnificent panama, and held in his hand one
of those green silk umbrellas with a bamboo handle.
"I am not mistaken," cried the new-comer, as he walked
round and faced Lucien on the other side of the hole.
"Surely, it is our beloved District Attorney whom I see here
at Pouliguen!"
"Yes, lam he!" said Lucien, somewhat confused, as he
tried to rise.
"Don't disturb yourself, I beg. You look immensely
comfortable there, and I will take my seat opposite. It was
my children who dug this hole, and we certainly have a right
to profit by it."
"I hope Madame Desvignes is well?" asked Lucien.
" Perfectly so.     She is now making a little excursion to
the Bourg de Batz.    I prefer not to fa-tigue myself, however.
I come to the sea-shore to lounge and look about.    You are
at Pouliguen for several days, I trust?"
" I really do not know. My mother, I believe, is looking
for accommodations here.    Will she find lodgings?"
" I am afraid not.    There are a great many people here."
" Then we will go to Croisic."
"I should regret that, for yon would find much more
amusement here.    I have a pleasure-boat which  I shall be
glad to place at your disposal.    Femain with us."
" How can I, if we can't find lodgings?"
" I did not say that you will find none.    You can't tell until
you have tried.    Do you bathe?"
"I have certainly wished to do so in the last hour. But
no one has given me the example."
" Wait. Before an hour yon will see the beach covered with
pretty women, fair and dark, stout and slender, tall and
short, in all sorts of costumes. When the sea is unusually
heavy the women do not dare bathe at high tide. They wait
until the tide is going out. There is but one person in Nantes
who is capable of bathing at this time.
" And who is he?"
" It is not a he.    It is a woman, or rather a girl."
"A Nantaise?"
" No, a Parisian.   She has been living several months with
her father at Nantes, and, of course, you don't know her."
"What is her name?"
" Her Christian name is Diane. Her family name Brard,
but the name she is known by hereher nickname, so to
speak------"
"What!   A young girl?"
"I gave it to'her."
" And what is it, then?"
"The.Woman of Fire!"
" What on earth do you mean?"
" Nothing evil, I assure you, sir. Notwithstanding the
reputation with which these Nantais men are disposed to en-
dow mefor they are jealous of me because I spend so much
time iu Paris, and can amuse myself there without their
assistanceI am incapable of injuring the reputation of a
young girl, who, if a little eccentric, is entirely well be-
haved."
" But what do you mean by this namethe Woman of
Fire?"
" Have you ever heard about the phosphorescence of the
sea?"
" Certainly. I have read about it also in my rare moments
of leisure. Quatrefages, Becquerel, and Verne, in his ro-
mances, speak of it."