# Horrid Mysteries: a Story/Volume 3/Chapter 5

CHAPTER V.
The Count, who came very early to see how I did, found me pale and languid. I entreated him to forget the whole scene of last night, because I had made the observation that I really was very ill. He sent immediately for a physician, who shook his head, declaring my illness to be a fever of a most dangerous nature, and found it necessary to bleed me. Yet I rose at ten o'clock, in health and pretty good spirits, feeling no other inconvenience than an ebullition in the blood, and an unspeakable languour. I was several times strongly tempted, in the course of the day, to inform the Count of my suspicions with regard to the affair of last night; and had the best opportunity of ​doing it at table, where I examined the wine, and every dish, with an unusual care, which occasioned him to ask me whether I was afraid to be poisoned by him? Yet that very question sealed my lips. His extraordinary agitation, and the struggle with his heart, which was not yet entirely decided, imparted to every thing he said a certain bitterness which he could not conceal, notwithstanding his endeavours to appear open and kind to me. Thus frail is the human heart. I saw, with secret sorrow, the distress which the sacrifice he had made me inflicted upon his agonized mind. I might have soothed his agony, if I had explained to him that my singular behaviour on the preceding night had been owing rather to a disordered body than to a weakness of heart; however, his silent reserve, and my being doubtful how he would receive it, prevented me from coming to an explanation.
​The only thing I did was to make observations on myself; and the deeper I penetrated into the secrets of my feelings, the more coldness to Caroline did I discover in my heart. I was highly rejoiced at it, and yet apprehended that it was impossible I loved her nevertheless. I heated myself more violently in attempting to grow cooler, and secretly asked myself, "Is it possible you could love Caroline? It scarcely can be; and yet I apprehend it really is so. She has, indeed, not gentleness and judgment enough, and also appears to have too much self will, as to be capable to sacrifice much for her lover; however, she has a certain spirit of conversation which charms me, and a natural insinuation that flatters self-love, and must render its object happy. But is all this worth sacrificing a tried friend, whose peace of mind appears to depend on her love? No, Carlos! be ashamed, and conquer a fatal passion, that owes its existence merely to an unnatural state of thy body, ​lest thou becomest the sport of others that have kindled it in thy heart, and strive to gain the applause of thy own understanding, of the Count, thy friends." This soliloquy terminated in a solemn resolution to shun Caroline as much as decency would permit, and I was determined to carry it that very day into execution. We were invited to an assembly, where we were sure to meet Caroline; my indisposition affording me a natural pretext for staying at home, I resolved not to go. Not knowing how to amuse myself all the evening, I went to my closet, and searched for some books. I carried at least half a dozen to my sofa, without being able to determine which I would read. I also had got some music for my flute, and put a chair to the Piano forte. At length, I put a nightgown on, and stretched myself upon the sofa, reading aloud, to silence the voice of my heart. Thus I was in an excellent way of spending the evening in private, and to divert my mind, when suddenly a ​carriage stopped at our house. I was violently frightened. "Good God!" said I to myself, "I hope I shall not be disturbed by visitors!" shut my eyes, and pretended to be fast asleep.
Not two minutes were elapsed, when my closet-door was opened, and a person entered. He approached the sofa softly, while I consulted with myself whether I should not open my eyes a little to see who was so kind to disturb my sweet repose? It was the Count, and in full dress. "My God! in full dress?" I exclaimed, starting suddenly up, and surveying him with gazing looks.
"You play fine tricks, Marquis," he said coolly. "I really thought you was fast asleep, and you start up at once as if you were going to fly in my face!" So saying, he put his sword on, which he carried in his hand, went to the looking glass, and examined his head-dress.
Seeing that I still continued to look at him without making the least attempt to ​stir, he put his hat on, turned round, and crossing his arms negligently, said, "But tell me, Marquis, what means that comedy you are acting there in your great night-cap?"
"A comedy!" I replied, with looks of astonishment.
"I think you have had sufficient time to take your nap; though you have dined to-day with an extraordinary appetite."
"You are mistaken, Count," I began peevishly: "I have had no appetite at all."
I would have given any thing if I could have provoked him to enter into a contest with me on that point; for I was determined to prove clearly that I never had dined with less appetite. He went, however, to the window, without returning a word, began to hum an air, looking into the street, and dissembled to be occupied with some ridiculous object. At length he resumed, still looking out of the win​dow, "How long will you let your carriage wait at the door?"
"My carriage at the door! I don't comprehend you. Have you ordered it?"
"Yes, I have; and it is your state-carriage. Have you entirely forgot, that I am the king of the feast which we are to have, and that the Minister of H****** and the ****sh Ambassador will be of the party?"
"Pray tell me, dear Count," I replied, "whether I am dreaming? for I assure you, I know not a syllable of it." (I really had almost entirely forgot it.)
"Have I ever seen the like?" he replied, turning round. "All the world has been solemnly invited last night. I come to fetch you, and you are not dressed. These are fine doings, indeed! I am sure the card-tables will be occupied before you are ready, and you may easily conclude that I shall play to-night?"
All my fine plans vanished in that moment: I saw nothing but the gay company, dancing, playing and laughing.
​"Well, then, I must make haste to dress," I replied mechanically, taking my cap off, and ringing for my valet. He came, and used such expedition, that I was in my carriage a quarter of an hour after.
We came, indeed, too late; all the card-tables were already occupied; and Caroline having despaired to see the Count that night, had left the company to pay several visits before supper. The Count was determined to play, and succeeded at length to collect a party. Being not disposed to play at cards, I stole upon a balcony, which looked into a large yard covered with lofty trees, where I abandoned myself to pleasing reveries. The delusive dusk, the humming in the air, and the ominous rustling of the cooling breezes betwixt the trembling leaves, created sweet sensations in my mind; and my imagination was agreeably occupied with forming pleasing fancies, when the door behind me was opened at once. On ​turning round I beheld Caroline, who, mean time, was returned, and had left the apartment for reasons similar to mine. She seemed not to have observed me at first, being rather startled when she saw me. Yet she soon collected herself, saluting me with her usual good nature and simplicity, and inquiring how I did. I began to tremble, and replied with visible confusion, and in broken accents.
She began to laugh, resuming gaily, "I really think you have been sleeping, Marquis, for your phrases are uncommonly odd." I confessed that I had been dreaming, at least, and being asked of whom, I replied, "of you, charming Caroline."
Thus I opened a conversation on the very subject I had so firmly determined to avoid. She declined every thing I said with the gayest humour, which imperceptibly led me to add a great deal more of the same nature. In short, our conversation grew very warm. She was violently ​agitated, notwithstanding her cheerful humour; and at length began repeatedly to speak of the Count, pitying him with a most charming kindness for his paleness and melancholy, and even asked me whether his heart was not the prey of some silent grief? She could have chosen neither a subject nor words that could have made my blood ferment with greater violence.
When the air grew more chilling, she told me she would go and fetch her shawl, and soon join me again. I offered to do it for her; however, she insisted upon going herself. I counted every minute; but she did not return. Having waited in vain above a quarter of an hour, I returned to the company. She sat by the Count, looking in his cards, or rather contemplating his beautiful countenance, which exhibited striking marks of melancholy, and received additional charms by the languid paleness his illness had left upon it. He never had appeared handsomer to me than that night. The speaking ​language of his mien was indeed now and then interrupted by an indescribable perplexity; however, the goodness of his heart continued to prevail in every feature of his benevolent countenance. His dark eyes, flashing with a faint fire, spoke powerfully to the heart; and the pale enamel of his lips resembled a rose that first begins to blush.
Caroline was entirely absorpt in the contemplation of his affecting features; her face was the mirror of his, and repeated every mien of her melancholy neighbour by its movements. As soon as the Count perceived me by his side, he endeavoured to involve me in a conversation with Caroline, who just was starting up, exclaiming, "Good Heaven! I have forgot the Marquis, who waits for me on the balcony!" She was rejoiced to see that I had joined the company, and drew her chair closer to the Count.
The latter began, from that moment, to be entirely absent, replying little, or ​nothing at all, to her observations and questions. This offended Caroline at last, and she rose suddenly from the card-table, declaring that play did make people unaccountably insupportable. She then wished the Count, laughing, a good night; repairing to the opposite side of the apartment, where a forte piano stood, and began to play.
Yet she could relish nothing. I followed her like her shade, taking up a violin to accompany her; selected some of her favourite airs; but every thing was intolerable to her. She grew, at length, uncommonly sad and gloomy, reclining herself against the back of her chair, fetched a deep sigh, and shut her eyes.
I did every thing in my power to amuse her; but nothing would do: she returned very short answers, and grew cooler every moment. She continued to keep up that humour till the gaming parties rose; and being placed, at supper, between the ​Count and myself, her cheerfulness soon returned with additional lustre.
This charming change seemed, however, not to have the least effect on the Count. He continued to be sad and gloomy, however attentive and obliging she was to him. She was indefatigable in her exertions to rouse him from his melancholy stupor, displaying her wit and good humour in the most advantageous light; but nothing would succeed. The company was enchanted with her lively sallies and acute remarks; the Count only was dejected and absorpt in gloomy reveries. He had formed his plan, and nothing could tempt him to give up his resolution. His pertinacy was so firm, that neither Heaven nor Hell would have been able to draw him only a hair's breadth from his course.
At length she grew tired of that frigidity, and addressed herself to me, to punish him for his sullen reserve, thinking, perhaps, that jealousy would effect what ​love was not equal to perform. But she was mistaken; for the Count grew more communicative, and I was as laconic as he had been. I was but too sensible of the real motive of the honour she did me; my pride did not suffer me to avail myself of her favourable disposition, and my cheerfulness was far from encreasing. Thus the evening, for the pleasures of which so many preparations had been made, was spent in a very irksome and tedious manner.
From that time I saw Caroline almost every day; it was at least not my fault if I did not. The Count's melancholy encreased every day more visibly; he frequently shut himself up in his closet, retired early from all companies, or stayed entirely at home. His friends ascribed that love of solitude to the effects of his illness; and I confirmed their supposition. Every spark of generosity seemed to be dead in my heart during that fatal period; I saw him struggle against his passion with ​an indifference that covers me with pungent shame whenever I think of it; he was a living picture of sorrow, and I had not even so much feeling left to comfort him. In short, I was so completely, so thoroughly altered, that it is impossible my friends should not have noticed it.
The female heart is never entirely void of vanity; and none that is not pre-occupied, will be able to resist a firm and indefatigable exertion to gain upon it. I now was frequently in private with Caroline, and none of my other rivals was very formidable. I really imagined to have made some impression upon her heart, and that she had completely forgot the obstinate Count. I enjoyed that little, dubious happiness with a rapturous pleasure, when an accident suddenly overturned the airy edifice of my vanity at once.
We met at the country seat of a friend to celebrate a rural feast. The fine season was already on the verge; autumn had, however, sufficient charms left to make us ​forget the amusements of the town for a short time. The vintage was getting in, and that is the time when merriment and pleasure display themselves in the most natural and charming manner.
The necessary preparations were made, at the country seat of my friend, solemnly to celebrate every day of that general rejoicing. The two most virtuous girls of the village were publicly presented in the church with a garland of white roses, and received a very liberal dowry. Their beauty was, indeed, not equal to their virtue; yet they received that reward with such a grace, and so much modest innocence, that every one was convinced, beyond contradiction, that they deserved having been selected from the rest of their sisters. This enchanting harmony between gracefulness and virtue is generally no where to be met with in that high degree as among the French peasantry.
No one could deny that all his softer feelings were completely gratified among ​that troop of amiable country girls who, during the short time of our stay with them, never lost sight of us. These remarks had a powerful influence on my subsequent resolutions. All of us gentlemen were greater or lesser sinners, and it afforded us the highest pleasure to exchange the coquetry and art of our ladies with the sensible and open simplicity of those innocent children of nature. Joy and cheerful mirth animated, therefore, every one of us; and we found many little innocent means of gratifying our glowing humour, and the demands of a heated blood, without injuring the virtue of those innocent rustics. Dancing and songs, little feasts and processions, fire-works and comedies, followed each other in a pleasing succession, were always different in their nature, and, nevertheless, only parts of a well arranged whole.
Even the Count began to cheer up a little, yet without being able to take his usual share in these amusements. Caroline ​was still a little angry with him, or at least pretended to be so; and being used to have always a declared lover, gave me the preference. I was obliged to sit always by her side, to carry her gloves and her fan, and to follow her every where as her esquire. Even when somebody talked to me at a small distance from her, she inquired, with the greatest simplicity, "where may the Marquis be?" This induced me to flatter myself to be secretly beloved by her, though she never suffered me to speak of my passion. She neither acted the prude, nor was reserved, but behaved like an offended wife that is going to lose her husband, and importuned already with proposals of a second marriage. The Count soon observed that she seemed to be very partial to me, and frequently squeezed my hand by stealth with averted looks. Yet my proud heart soon conceived a presumption upon her favour, which unexpectedly made me sensible of my mistake.
​One afternoon she roved with me thro' the garden, playing numberless little pranks. She was more immoderately merry than I ever had seen her before, and her amorous gambols fired me to a degree of which I never thought myself susceptible. She was, besides, dressed with uncommon elegance and taste. Her fine shape, the activity of her limbs, the pliancy of every part of her graceful form, the luxuriant growth of her curling hair, which wantonly overshaded her forehead and bosom, and her easy, cheerful gait, made her resemble the Goddess of Mirth. I was intoxicated by the sight of her unpresuming charms, and enchanted by the jovial roguery of her sparkling eyes.
Being, at length, exhausted by her playsome gambols, we seated ourselves upon the swelling turf, where it was overshaded by a tuft of myrtles. She broke off some of the depending twigs, and began to throw them at me. I had just picked up two, and was going to fling ​them at her in return, when she suddenly averted her face from me towards a walk covered with lofty trees. I turned round, and beheld the Count coming slowly towards the place where we were sitting. He was alone, and so profoundly absorpt in thought, that he did not see us. His arms were crossed, his head depended upon his bosom, his eyes were half shut, and he seemed to be entirely unconscious of the objects around him. He made now and then motions, as if he conversed with some person, dropt one of his hands, covering with the other a part of his face.
Caroline suddenly grew serious; I wanted to continue our frolicsome sport, but she paid no attention to me, replying to all my questions nothing but, "The poor Count! how melancholy he is!" "The poor Count!" I repeated with great emotion; and one of her sweet looks thanked me for my concern.
​When he came nearer, without seeing us, I called to him. He awoke from his gloomy reverie a little frightened; yet he had too much power over his countenance as not to exhilarate it immediately; and he always grew extravagantly merry, whenever he changed from a melancholy mood to cheerfulness; which now also was the case. Yet Caroline could not be deceived by his unnatural jocundity; her countenance assumed an uncommon serious aspect, which impelled him to use still greater efforts to cheer her up. I seconded him faithfully; and when nothing would succeed, we grew, at last, so excessively merry, that she offered to rise, and to leave us.
"I perceive, beautiful Caroline," he now began, "that one of us is disagreeable to you, and I fear I am that one."
Although he said this in a laughing accent, yet Caroline returned neither a word, nor even a look; remaining quietly on her seat, and playing with her fan.
​"No, no!" said I, "You are mistaken, dear Count; I am that person." I directed a scrutinizing look at her while I uttered these words; but she still continued to be taciturn.
"You probably think so," the Count resumed, "because she is so serious ever since an unfortunate accident has made me interrupt your conversation?"
"I don't like to enter into a contest with you; but let us make an experiment. That proud goddess may decide herself. Kneel down, and take this myrtle sprig." He kneeled, laughing, down, and took the myrtle in his hand.
"Now, fair Caroline," I began in a solemn accent, turning to her, "it is your turn to choose. Here you see two lovers kneeling before you, who adore you with equal tenderness, who would sacrifice their life with pleasure to save yours, but rather will devote it to your happiness. Either offers you a myrtle sprig, accept that of him whom you prefer to the other."
​I could not help thinking that it was cruel to treat the poor Count thus: however, the present opportunity seemed to offer me that little triumph in such a natural manner, that I could not resist the temptation of enjoying it. My poor neighbour trembled, and was in a violent agitation, while I anticipated my victory with a smiling countenance. Caroline, however, instead of treating the matter as a frolic, as I had expected, rose with dignity, and in a very solemn manner, which excited our astonishment; but no sooner had she surveyed us with a dubious look, than she lost all presence of mind. Her face was alternately overspread with a deep crimson hue and a deadly paleness; her bosom heaved with greater violence, and she breathed louder, covering her countenance repeatedly with her hand, and displaying an uncommon emotion. After a few seconds, she recovered the dominion over herself, darting an unspeakable tender look at the Count, who stared at her ​like a statue, and another less significant one at myself, snatched with vehemence the myrtle sprig from my friend's hand, averting her face, and said, in a trembling accent, "I thank you, dear Count."
It is a kind of miracle that I did not lose the use of my senses on the spot. It rather seemed as if I had received a thousand eyes more, to see more plainly what now ensued. The Count was almost frantic with rapture, forgetting every thing, the world and myself, and straining the trembling girl to his bosom. At first, she only suffered his caresses and kisses, but soon returned them with equal fervour. Tender looks, and voluptuous sighs, were mutually exchanged, and the glowing fire of love burned on their crimsoned lips. They were infolded in tender embraces, while I continued to kneel before them in a kind of senseless stupor.
The Count observed, at length, my forlorn situation, and raised me with a grateful look. "My Caroline," said he ​to the sweet girl, "let my dearest friend have a share in your affection." So saying, he pressed me to Caroline's bosom. Heaven was in his looks; he believed to have regained every thing while he could strain the dear object of his love and the friend of his heart to his heaving bosom.
"Yes, Marquis," Caroline began, "I should have preferred you to all the world, if I had not known the Count. Be my friend, as you have been that of my Lewis, and you always will find my heart open, kind, and affectionately disposed to you."
I was seized with stunning stupor, and incapable of returning an answer; I even could not evince my gratitude by a mute sign. I bent my weeping eyes upon the hand which she extended to me, and felt it burn more violently than my face. This was the only sensation of which I was conscious. My heart ceased almost to beat, and a chilling tremour thrilled my frame, but was soon succeeded by a con​vulsive heat. My breast heaved violently, and yet I had it not in my power to unburthen it by a single sigh.
The Count embraced me, squeezing my hand. "You know, my dear Carlos," he added, "that my rapture is not unalloyed with pungent grief."
Caroline now raised me up, putting my hand between her arm, while the Count took hold of me on the other side. They spoke little; however, their tender looks conveyed comfort to my poor heart. I was scarcely conscious of being led by them.
"This then is the consequence of thy adventurous undertaking," said I to myself in the evening, when I was alone in my apartment: "fate has punished thee as thou didst deserve. Yet it is fortunate enough that that decision, that the certainty of thy fate, has cooled thy foolish presumption, and that thou hast a greater share of pride than of any other passion."
​I cannot but confess that my pride only saved me, my passion being not strong enough to resist it. I never had, till then, loved without hope; and even Caroline had opened a favourable prospect to me by her innocent sportiveness. The first blow my humbled vanity received was dreadful enough, yet it soon recovered from that unexpected shock, and rendered me easy. I should have been blind, if I could have overlooked the Count's superior merits, his enchanting form, his gay and even temper, and his sensible heart, which was ever ready to make the greatest sacrifices to the objects of its love. Yet no one will expect that I should have been able to witness the felicity of the two lovers with tranquillity. I resolved, therefore, patiently to keep them company, while they should remain in the country, and then to repair to some other part of the world; a resolution, the first part of which I performed more faithfully than I had reason to expect. I took such a tran​quil, but less cheerful, share in all their amusements, deceived myself so much by my equanimity, and forced myself to such an imposing unconcern, that the serenity of the Count, who firmly believed that I soon would be cured entirely, visibly encreased, and grew every day more natural.
But how great was his astonishment when I entered his apartment, a few days after our return to Paris, and informed him that I was going to leave him for a short time. He scarcely could believe that I was serious: I told him, however, that he was mistaken if he imagined my heart was as cheerful as my countenance. I alledged such strong and reasonable motives for a tour through France, and a visit to a little estate I possessed in Provence, that he approved my plan at last, though it was very visible that it gave him pain to part with me even for a short time. We found, however, some comfort in the hope of a speedy cure of my mental ​disease, and of my subsequent return. I had, besides, found out the most amiable travelling companion I could wish for: this was Count S******i, who was in a situation similar to mine, and sincerely rejoiced at my proposal. The Count and myself being now completely reconciled, we embraced each other with an affectionate heart and weeping eyes. He offered to spend the night with me, and to accompany me the subsequent morning a few leagues. Wishing, however, that my journey should be looked upon merely as a pleasure excursion, I desired that the farewell-scene should be as short as possible. Having, therefore, settled the manner in which our correspondence was to be carried on, I disengaged myself from his embraces, and spent the night in private in my apartment, giving audience to my thoughts, and preparing for my departure.
S******i and myself had agreed not to render our journey tiresome, by taking ​too much care of our convenience on the road. We provided ourselves with good horses, and very little baggage; and were attended only by two servants. Being thus accoutred, we began our excursion, independent on the rudeness of the postmasters, who are of one cast all over the world. As for my companion, I had not the least apprehension of falling out with him, for he was good-nature itself. I called at his apartments with the first dawn of the morning; we mounted our horses, and the Count wished us a pleasant journey from the balcony.