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+Produced by David Widger and Pat Castevens
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE WANDERING JEW
+
+By Eugene Sue
+
+
+
+
+BOOK II.
+
+INTERVAL.--THE WANDERING JEW'S SENTENCE.
+
+XVII.     The Ajoupa
+XVIII.    The Tattooing
+XIX.      The Smuggler
+XX.       M. Joshua Van Dael
+XXI.      The Ruins of Tchandi
+XXII.     The Ambuscade
+XXIII.    M. Rodin
+XXIV.     The Tempest
+XXV.      The Shipwreck
+XXVI.     The Departure for Paris
+XXVII.    Dagobert's Wife
+XXVIII.   The Sister of the Bacchanal Queen
+XXIX.     Agricola Baudoin
+XXX.      The Return
+XXXI.     Agricola and Mother Bunch
+XXXII.    The Awakening
+XXXIII.   The Pavilion
+XXXIV.    Adrienne at her Toilet
+XXXV.     The Interview
+
+
+
+
+INTERVAL.
+
+THE WANDERING JEW'S SENTENCE.
+
+The site is wild and rugged. It is a lofty eminence covered with huge
+boulders of sandstone, between which rise birch trees and oaks, their
+foliage already yellowed by autumn. These tall trees stand out from the
+background of red light, which the sun has left in the west, resembling
+the reflection of a great fire.
+
+From this eminence the eye looks down into a deep valley, shady, fertile,
+and half-veiled in light vapor by the evening mist. The rich meadows, the
+tufts of bushy trees the fields from which the ripe corn has been
+gathered in, all blend together in one dark, uniform tint, which
+contrasts with the limpid azure of the heavens. Steeples of gray stone or
+slate lift their pointed spires, at intervals, from the midst of this
+valley; for many villages are spread about it, bordering a high-road
+which leads from the north to the west.
+
+It is the hour of repose--the hour when, for the most part, every cottage
+window brightens to the joyous crackling of the rustic hearth, and shines
+afar through shade and foliage, whilst clouds of smoke issue from the
+chimneys, and curl up slowly towards the sky. But now, strange to say,
+every hearth in the country seems cold and deserted. Stranger and more
+fatal still, every steeple rings out a funeral knell. Whatever there is
+of activity, movement, or life, appears concentrated in that lugubrious
+and far-sounding vibration.
+
+Lights begin to show themselves in the dark villages, but they rise not
+from the cheerful and pleasant rustic hearth. They are as red as the
+fires of the herdsmen, seen at night through the midst of the fog. And
+then these lights do not remain motionless. They creep slowly towards the
+churchyard of every village. Louder sounds the death-knell, the air
+trembles beneath the strokes of so many bells, and, at rare intervals,
+the funeral chant rises faintly to the summit of the hill.
+
+Why so many interments? What valley of desolation is this, where the
+peaceful songs which follow the hard labors of the day are replaced by
+the death dirge? where the repose of evening is exchanged for the repose
+of eternity? What is this valley of the shadow, where every village
+mourns for its many dead, and buries them at the same hour of the same
+night?
+
+Alas! the deaths are so sudden and numerous and frightful that there is
+hardly time to bury the dead. During day the survivors are chained to the
+earth by hard but necessary toil; and only in the evening, when they
+return from the fields, are they able, though sinking with fatigue, to
+dig those other furrows, in which their brethren are to lie heaped like
+grains of corn.
+
+And this valley is not the only one that has seen the desolation. During
+a series of fatal years, many villages, many towns, many cities, many
+great countries, have seen, like this valley, their hearths deserted and
+cold--have seen, like this valley, mourning take the place of joy, and
+the death-knell substituted for the noise of festival--have wept in the
+same day for their many dead, and buried them at night by the lurid glare
+of torches.
+
+For, during those fatal years, an awful wayfarer had slowly journeyed
+over the earth, from one pole to the other--from the depths of India and
+Asia to the ice of Siberia--from the ice of Siberia to the borders of the
+seas of France.
+
+This traveller, mysterious as death, slow as eternity, implacable as
+fate, terrible as the hand of heaven, was the CHOLERA!
+
+The tolling of bells and the funeral chants still rose from the depths of
+the valley to the summit of the hill, like the complaining of a mighty
+voice; the glare of the funeral torches was still seen afar through the
+mist of evening; it was the hour of twilight--that strange hour, which
+gives to the most solid forms a vague, indefinite fantastic
+appearance--when the sound of firm and regular footsteps was heard on the
+stony soil of the rising ground, and, between the black trunks of the
+trees, a man passed slowly onward.
+
+His figure was tall, his head was bowed upon his breast; his countenance
+was noble, gentle, and sad; his eyebrows, uniting in the midst, extended
+from one temple to the other, like a fatal mark on his forehead.
+
+This man did not seem to hear the distant tolling of so many funeral
+bells--and yet, a few days before, repose and happiness, health and joy,
+had reigned in those villages through which he had slowly passed, and
+which he now left behind him, mourning and desolate. But the traveller
+continued on his way, absorbed in his own reflections.
+
+"The 13th of February approaches," thought he; "the day approaches, in
+which the descendants of my beloved sister, the last scions of our race,
+should meet in Paris. Alas! it is now a hundred and fifty years since,
+for the third time, persecution scattered this family over all the
+earth--this family, that I have watched over with tenderness for eighteen
+centuries, through all its migrations and exiles, its changes of
+religion, fortune, and name!
+
+"Oh! for this family, descended from the sister of the poor shoemaker,[2]
+what grandeur and what abasement, what obscurity and what splendor, what
+misery and what glory! By how many crimes has it been sullied, by how
+many virtues honored! The history of this single family is the history of
+the human race!
+
+"Passing, in the course of so many generations, through the veins of the
+poor and the rich, of the sovereign and the bandit, of the wise man and
+the fool, of the coward and the brave, of the saint and the atheist, the
+blood of my sister has transmitted itself to this hour.
+
+"What scions of this family are now remaining? Seven only.
+
+"Two orphans, the daughters of proscribed parents--a dethroned prince--a
+poor missionary priest--a man of the middle class--a young girl of a
+great name and large fortune--a mechanic.
+
+"Together, they comprise in themselves the virtues, the courage, the
+degradation, the splendor, the miseries of our species!
+
+"Siberia--India--America--France--behold the divers places where fate has
+thrown them!
+
+"My instinct teaches me when one of them is in peril. Then, from the
+North to the South, from the East to the West, I go to seek them.
+Yesterday amid the polar frosts--to-day in the temperate zone--to-morrow
+beneath the fires of the tropics--but often, alas! at the moment when my
+presence might save them, the invisible hand impels me, the whirlwind
+carries me away, and the voice speaks in my ear: 'GO ON! GO ON!'
+
+"Oh, that I might only finish my task!--'GO ON!'--A single hour--only a
+single hour of repose!--'GO ON!'--Alas! I leave those I love on the brink
+of the abyss!--'GO ON! GO ON!'
+
+"Such is my punishment. If it is great, my crime was greater still! An
+artisan, devoted to privations and misery, my misfortunes had made me
+cruel.
+
+"Oh, cursed, cursed be the day, when, as I bent over my work, sullen with
+hate and despair, because, in spite of my incessant labor, I and mine
+wanted for everything, the Saviour passed before my door.
+
+"Reviled, insulted, covered with blows, hardly able to sustain the weight
+of his heavy cross, He asked me to let Him rest a moment on my stone
+bench. The sweat poured from His forehead, His feet were bleeding, He was
+well-nigh sinking with fatigue, and He said to me, in a mild, heart
+piercing voice: 'I suffer!' 'And I too suffer,' I replied, as with harsh
+anger I pushed Him from the place; 'I suffer, and no one comes to help
+me! I find no pity, and will give none. Go on! go on!' Then, with a deep
+sigh of pain, He answered, and spake this sentence: 'Verily, thou shalt
+go on till the day of thy redemption, for so wills the Father which art
+in heaven!'
+
+"And so my punishment began. Too late I opened these eyes to the light,
+too late I learned repentance and charity, too late I understood those
+divine words of Him I had outraged, words which should be the law of the
+whole human race. 'LOVE YE ONE ANOTHER.'
+
+"In vain through successive ages, gathering strength and eloquence from
+those celestial words, have I labored to earn my pardon, by filling with
+commiseration and love hearts that were overflowing with envy and
+bitterness, by inspiring many a soul with a sacred horror of oppression
+and injustice. For me the day of mercy has not yet dawned!
+
+"And even as the first man, by his fall, devoted his posterity to
+misfortune, it would seem as if I, the workman, had consigned the whole
+race of artisans to endless sorrows, and as if they were expiating my
+crime: for they alone, during these eighteen centuries, have not yet been
+delivered.
+
+"For eighteen centuries, the powerful and the happy of this world have
+said to the toiling people what I said to the imploring and suffering
+Saviour: 'Go on! go on!' And the people, sinking with fatigue, bearing
+their heavy cross, have answered in the bitterness of their grief: 'Oh,
+for pity's sake! a few moments of repose; we are worn out with toil.'--Go
+on!'--'And if we perish in our pain, what will become of our little
+children and our aged mothers?'--'Go on! go on!' And, for eighteen
+centuries, they and I have continued to struggle forward and to suffer,
+and no charitable voice has yet pronounced the word 'Enough!'
+
+"Alas! such is my punishment. It is immense, it is two-fold. I suffer in
+the name of humanity, when I see these wretched multitudes consigned
+without respite to profitless and oppressive toil. I suffer in the name
+of my family, when, poor and wandering, I am unable to bring aid to the
+descendants of my dear sister. But, when the sorrow is above my strength,
+when I foresee some danger from which I cannot preserve my own, then my
+thoughts, travelling over the world, go in search of that woman like me
+accursed, that daughter of a queen, who, like me, the son of a laborer,
+wanders, and will wander on, till the day of her redemption.[3]
+
+"Once in a century, as two planets draw nigh to each other in their
+revolutions, I am permitted to meet this woman during the dread week of
+the Passion. And after this interview, filled with terrible remembrances
+and boundless griefs, wandering stars of eternity, we pursue our infinite
+course.
+
+"And this woman, the only one upon earth who, like me, sees the end of
+every century, and exclaims: 'What another?' this woman responds to my
+thought, from the furthest extremity of the world. She, who alone shares
+my terrible destiny, has chosen to share also the only interest that has
+consoled me for so many ages. Those descendants of my dear sister, she
+too loves, she too protects them. For them she journeys likewise from
+East to West and from North to South.
+
+"But alas! the invisible hand impels her, the whirlwind carries her away,
+and the voice speaks in her ear: 'Go on!'--'Oh that I might finish my
+sentence!' repeats she also,--'Go on!'--'A single hour--only a single hour
+of repose!'--Go on!'--'I leave those I love on the brink of the
+abyss.'--'Go on! Go on!--'"
+
+Whilst this man thus went over the hill absorbed in his thoughts, the
+light evening breeze increased almost to a gale, a vivid flash streamed
+across the sky, and long, deep whistlings announced the coming of a
+tempest.
+
+On a sudden this doomed man, who could no longer weep or smile, started
+with a shudder. No physical pain could reach him, and yet he pressed his
+hand hastily to his heart, as though he had experienced a cruel pang.
+"Oh!" cried he; "I feel it. This hour, many of those whom I love--the
+descendants of my dear sister--suffer, and are in great peril. Some in
+the centre of India--some in America--some here in Germany. The struggle
+recommences, the detestable passions are again awake. Oh, thou that
+hearest me--thou, like myself wandering and accursed--Herodias! help me
+to protect them! May my invocation reach thee, in those American
+solitudes where thou now lingerest--and may we arrive in time!"
+
+Thereon an extraordinary event happened. Night was come. The man made a
+movement; precipitately, to retrace his steps--but an invisible force
+prevented him, and carried him forward in the opposite direction.
+
+At this moment, the storm burst forth in its murky majesty. One of those
+whirlwinds, which tear up trees by the roots and shake the foundations of
+the rocks, rushed over the hill rapid and loud as thunder.
+
+In the midst of the roaring of the hurricane, by the glare of the fiery
+flashes, the man with the black mark on his brow was seen descending the
+hill, stalking with huge strides among the rocks, and between trees bent
+beneath the efforts of the storm.
+
+The tread of this man was no longer slow, firm, and steady--but painfully
+irregular, like that of one impelled by an irresistible power, or carried
+along by the whirl of a frightful wind. In vain he extended his
+supplicating hands to heaven. Soon he disappeared in the shades of night,
+and amid the roar of the tempest.
+
+[2] It is known that, according to the legend, the Wandering Jew was a
+shoemaker at Jerusalem. The Saviour, carrying his cross, passed before
+the house of the artisan, and asked him to be allowed to rest an instant
+on the stone bench at his door. "Go on! go on!" said the Jew harshly,
+pushing him away. "Thou shalt go on till the end of time," answered the
+Saviour, in a stern though sorrowful tone. For further details, see the
+eloquent and learned notice by Charles Magnin, appended to the
+magnificent poem "Ahasuerus," by Ed. Quinet.--E. S.
+
+[3] According to a legend very little known, for we are indebted to the
+kindness of M. Maury, the learned sub-librarian of the Institute,
+Herodias was condemned to wander till the day of judgement, for having
+asked for the death of John the Baptist--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE AJOUPA.
+
+While Rodin despatched his cosmopolite correspondence, from his retreat
+in the Rue du Milieu des Ursins, in Paris--while the daughters of General
+Simon, after quitting as fugitives the White Falcon, were detained
+prisoners at Leipsic along with Dagobert--other scenes, deeply
+interesting to these different personages, were passing, almost as it
+were at the same moment, at the other extremity of the world, in the
+furthermost parts of Asia--that is to say, in the island of Java, not far
+from the city of Batavia, the residence of M. Joshua Van Dael, one of the
+correspondents of Rodin.
+
+Java! magnificent and fatal country, where the most admirable flowers
+conceal hideous reptiles, where the brightest fruits contain subtle
+poisons, where grow splendid trees, whose very shadow is death--where the
+gigantic vampire bat sucks the blood of its victims whilst it prolongs
+their sleep, by surrounding them with a fresh and balmy air, no fan
+moving so rapidly as the great perfumed wings of this monster!
+
+The month of October, 1831, draws near its close. It is noon--an hour
+well nigh mortal to him who encounters the fiery heat of the sun, which
+spreads a sheet of dazzling light over the deep blue enamel of the sky.
+
+An ajoupa, or hut, made of cane mats, suspended from long bamboos, which
+are driven far into the ground, rises in the midst of the bluish shadows
+cast by a tuft of trees, whose glittering verdure resembles green
+porcelain. These quaintly formed trees, rounded into arches, pointing
+like spires, overspreading like parasols, are so thick in foliage, so
+entangled one with the other, that their dome is impenetrable to the
+rain.
+
+The soil, ever marshy, notwithstanding the insupportable heat, disappears
+beneath an inextricable mass of creepers, ferns, and tufted reeds, of a
+freshness and vigor of vegetation almost incredible, reaching nearly to
+the top of the ajoupa, which lies hid like a nest among the grass.
+
+Nothing can be more suffocating than the atmosphere, heavily laden with
+moist exhalations like the steam of hot water, and impregnated with the
+strongest and sharpest scents; for the cinnamon-tree, ginger-plant,
+stephanotis and Cape jasmine, mixed with these trees and creepers, spread
+around in puffs their penetrating odors. A roof, formed of large Indian
+fig-leaves, covers the cabin; at one end is a square opening, which
+serves for a window, shut in with a fine lattice-work of vegetable
+fibres, so as to prevent the reptiles and venomous insects from creeping
+into the ajoupa. The huge trunk of a dead tree, still standing, but much
+bent, and with its summit reaching to the roof of the ajoupa, rises from
+the midst of the brushwood. From every crevice in its black, rugged,
+mossy bark, springs a strange, almost fantastic flower; the wing of a
+butterfly is not of a finer tissue, of a more brilliant purple, of a more
+glossy black: those unknown birds we see in our dreams, have no more
+grotesque forms than these specimens of the orchis--winged flowers, that
+seem always ready to fly from their frail and leafless stalks. The long,
+flexible stems of the cactus, which might be taken for reptiles, encircle
+also this trunk, and clothe it with their bunches of silvery white,
+shaded inside with bright orange. These flowers emit a strong scent of
+vanilla.
+
+A serpent, of a brick-red, about the thickness of a large quill, and five
+or six inches long, half protrudes its flat head from one of those
+enormous, perfumed calyces, in which it lies closely curled up.
+
+Within the ajoupa, a young man is extended on a mat in a profound sleep.
+His complexion of a clear golden yellow, gives him the appearance of a
+statue of pale bronze, on which a ray of sun is playing. His attitude is
+simple and graceful; his right arm sustains his head, a little raised and
+turned on one side; his ample robe of white muslin, with hanging sleeves,
+leaves uncovered his chest and arms worthy of the Antoinous. Marble is
+not more firm, more polished than his skin, the golden hue of which
+contracts strongly with the whiteness of his garments. Upon his broad
+manly chest a deep scar is visible--the mark of the musket-ball he
+received in defending the life of General Simon, the father of Rose and
+Blanche.
+
+Suspended from his neck, he wears a medal similar to that in the
+possession of the two sisters. This Indian is Djalma.
+
+His features are at once very noble and very beautiful. His hair of a
+blue black, parted upon his forehead, falls waving, but not curled over
+his shoulders; whilst his eyebrows, boldly and yet delicately defined,
+are of as deep a jet as the long eyelashes, that cast their shadow upon
+his beardless cheek. His bright, red lips are slightly apart, and he
+breathes uneasily; his sleep is heavy and troubled, for the heat becomes
+every moment more and more suffocating.
+
+Without, the silence is profound. Not a breath of air is stirring. Yet
+now the tall ferns, which cover the soil, begin to move almost
+imperceptibly, as though their stems were shaken by the slow progress of
+some crawling body. From time to time, this trifling oscillation suddenly
+ceases, and all is again motionless. But, after several of these
+alternations of rustling and deep silence, a human head appears in the
+midst of the jungle, a little distance from the trunk of the dead tree.
+
+The man to whom it belonged was possessed of a grim countenance, with a
+complexion the color of greenish bronze, long black hair bound about his
+temples, eyes brilliant with savage fire, and an expression remarkable
+for its intelligence and ferocity. Holding his breath, he remained quite
+still for a moment; then, advancing upon his hands and knees, pushing
+aside the leaves so gently, that not the slightest noise could be heard,
+he arrived cautiously and slowly at the trunk of the dead tree, the
+summit of which nearly touched the roof of the ajoupa.
+
+This man, of Malay origin, belonging to the sect of the Lughardars
+(Stranglers), after having again listened, rose almost entirely from
+amongst the brushwood. With the exception of white cotton drawers,
+fastened around his middle by a parti- sash, he was completely
+naked. His bronze, supple, and nervous limbs were overlaid with a thick
+coat of oil. Stretching himself along the huge trunk on the side furthest
+from the cabin, and thus sheltered by the whole breadth of the tree with
+its surrounding creepers, he began to climb silently, with as much
+patience as caution. In the undulations of his form, in the flexibility
+of his movements, in the restrained vigor, which fully put forth would
+have been alarming, there was some resemblance to the stealthy and
+treacherous advance of the tiger upon its prey.
+
+Having reached, completely unperceived, the inclined portion of the tree,
+which almost touched the roof of the cabin, he was only separated from
+the window by a distance of about a foot. Cautiously advancing his head,
+he looked down into the interior, to see how he might best find an
+entrance.
+
+At sight of Djalma in his deep sleep, the Thug's bright eyes glittered
+with increased brilliancy; a nervous contraction, or rather a mute,
+ferocious laugh, curling the corners of his mouth, drew them up towards
+the cheekbones, and exposed rows of teeth, filed sharp like the points of
+a saw, and dyed of a shining black.
+
+Djalma was lying in such a manner and so near the door of the ajoupa,
+which opened inwards, that, were it moved in the least, he must be
+instantly awakened. The Strangler, with his body still sheltered by the
+tree, wishing to examine more attentively the interior of the cabin,
+leaned very forward, and in order to maintain his balance, lightly rested
+his hand on the ledge of the opening that served for a window. This
+movement shook the large cactus-flowers, within which the little serpent
+lay curled, and, darting forth it twisted itself rapidly round the wrist
+of the Strangler. Whether from pain or surprise, the man uttered a low
+cry; and as he drew back swiftly, still holding by the trunk of the tree,
+he perceived that Djalma had moved.
+
+The young Indian, though retaining his supine posture, had half opened
+his eyes, and turned his head towards the window, whilst his breast
+heaved with a deep-drawn sigh, for, beneath that thick dome of moist
+verdure, the concentrated heat was intolerable.
+
+Hardly had he moved, when, from behind the tree, was heard the shrill,
+brief, sonorous note, which the bird of paradise titters when it takes
+its flight--a cry which resembles that of the pheasant. This note was
+soon repeated, but more faintly, as though the brilliant bird were
+already at a distance. Djalma, thinking he had discovered the cause of
+the noise which had aroused him for an instant, stretched out the arm
+upon which his head had rested, and went to sleep again, with scarcely
+any change of position.
+
+For some minutes, the most profound silence once more reigned in this
+solitude, and everything remained motionless.
+
+The Strangler, by his skillful imitation of the bird, had repaired the
+imprudence of that exclamation of surprise and pain, which the reptile
+bite had forced from him. When he thought all was safe, he again advanced
+his head, and saw the young Indian once more plunged in sleep. Then he
+descended the tree with the same precautions, though his left hand was
+somewhat swollen from the sting of the serpent, and disappeared in the
+jungle.
+
+At that instant a song of monotonous and melancholy cadence was heard in
+the distance. The Strangler raised himself, and listened attentively, and
+his face took an expression of surprise and deadly anger. The song came
+nearer and nearer to the cabin, and, in a few seconds, an Indian, passing
+through an open space in the jungle, approached the spot where the Thug
+lay concealed.
+
+The latter unwound from his waist a long thin cord, to one of the ends of
+which was attached a leaden ball, of the form and size of an egg; having
+fastened the other end of this cord to his right wrist, the Strangler
+again listened, and then disappeared, crawling through the tall grass in
+the direction of the Indian, who still advanced slowly, without
+interrupting his soft and plaintive song.
+
+He was a young fellow scarcely twenty, with a bronzed complexion, the
+slave of Djalma, his vest of blue cotton was confined at the waist by a
+parti- sash; he wore a red turban, and silver rings in his ears
+and about his wrists. He was bringing a message to his master, who,
+during the great heat of the day was reposing in the ajoupa, which stood
+at some distance from the house he inhabited.
+
+Arriving at a place where two paths separated, the slave, without
+hesitation took that which led to the cabin, from which he was now scarce
+forty paces distant.
+
+One of those enormous Java butterflies, whose wings extend six or eight
+inches in length, and offer to the eye two streaks of gold on a ground of
+ultramarine, fluttering from leaf to leaf, alighted on a bush of Cape
+jasmine, within the reach of the young Indian. The slave stopped in his
+song, stood still, advanced first a foot, then a hand, and seized the
+butterfly.
+
+Suddenly he sees a dark figure rise before him; he hears a whizzing noise
+like that of a sling; he feels a cord, thrown with as much rapidity as
+force, encircle his neck with a triple band; and, almost in the same
+instant, the leaden ball strikes violently against the back of his head.
+
+This attack was so abrupt and unforseen, that Djalma's servant could not
+even utter a single cry, a single groan. He tottered--the Strangler gave
+a vigorous pull at the cord--the bronzed countenance of the slave became
+purple, and he fell upon his knees, convulsively moving his arms. Then
+the Strangler threw him quite down, and pulled the cord so violently,
+that the blood spurted from the skin. The victim struggled for a
+moment--and all was over.
+
+During his short but intense agony, the murderer, kneeling before his
+victim, and watching with ardent eye his least convulsions, seemed
+plunged into an ecstasy of ferocious joy. His nostrils dilated, the veins
+of his neck and temples were swollen, and the same savage laugh, which
+had curled his lips at the aspect of the sleeping Djalma, again displayed
+his pointed black teeth, which a nervous trembling of the jaws made to
+chatter. But soon he crossed his arms upon his heaving breast, bowed his
+forehead, and murmured some mysterious words, which sounded like an
+invocation or a prayer. Immediately after, he returned to the
+contemplation of the dead body. The hyena and the tiger-cat, who, before
+devouring, crouch beside the prey that they have surprised or hunted
+down, have not a wilder or more sanguinary look than this man.
+
+But, remembering that his task was not yet accomplished tearing himself
+unwillingly from the hideous spectacle, he unbound the cord from the neck
+of his victim, fastened it round his own body, dragged the corpse out of
+the path, and, without attempting to rob it of its silver rings,
+concealed it in a thick part of the jungle.
+
+Then the Strangler again began to creep on his knees and belly, till he
+arrived at the cabin of Djalma--that cabin constructed of mats suspended
+from bamboos. After listening attentively, he drew from his girdle a
+knife, the sharp-pointed blade of which was wrapped in a fig-leaf, and
+made in the matting an incision of three feet in length. This was done
+with such quickness, and with so fine a blade, that the light touch of
+the diamond cutting glass would have made more noise. Seeing, by means of
+this opening, which was to serve him for a passage, that Djalma was still
+fast asleep, the Thug, with incredible temerity, glided into the cabin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+THE TATTOOING
+
+The heavens, which had been till now of transparent blue, became
+gradually of a greenish tint, and the sun was veiled in red, lurid vapor.
+This strange light gave to every object a weird appearance, of which one
+might form an idea, by looking at a landscape through a piece of copper
+ glass. In those climates, this phenomenon, when united with an
+increase of burning heat, always announces the approach of a storm.
+
+From time to time there was a passing odor of sulphur; then the leaves,
+slightly shaken by electric currents, would tremble upon their stalks;
+till again all would return to the former motionless silence. The weight
+of the burning atmosphere, saturated with sharp perfumes, became almost
+intolerable. Large drops of sweat stood in pearls on the forehead of
+Djalma, still plunged in enervating sleep--for it no longer resembled
+rest, but a painful stupor.
+
+The Strangler glided like a reptile along the sides of the ajoupa, and,
+crawling on his belly, arrived at the sleeping-mat of Djalma, beside
+which he squatted himself, so as to occupy as little space as possible.
+Then began a fearful scene, by reason of the mystery and silence which
+surrounded it.
+
+Djalma's life was at the mercy of the Strangler. The latter, resting upon
+his hands and knees, with his neck stretched forward, his eye fixed and
+dilated, continued motionless as a wild beast about to spring. Only a
+slight nervous trembling of the jaws agitated that mask of bronze.
+
+But soon his hideous features revealed a violent struggle that was
+passing within him--a struggle between the thirst, the craving for the
+enjoyment of murder, which the recent assassination of the slave had made
+still more active, and the orders he had received not to attempt the life
+of Djalma, though the design, which brought him to the ajoupa, might
+perhaps be as fatal to the young Indian as death itself. Twice did the
+Strangler, with look of flame, resting only on his left hand, seize with
+his right the rope's end; and twice his hand fell--the instinct of murder
+yielding to a powerful will, of which the Malay acknowledged the
+irresistible empire.
+
+In him, the homicidal craving must have amounted to madness, for, in
+these hesitations, he lost much precious time: at any moment, Djalma,
+whose vigor, skill, and courage were known and feared, might awake from
+his sleep, and, though unarmed, he would prove a terrible adversary. At
+length the Thug made up his mind; with a suppressed sigh of regret, he
+set about accomplishing his task.
+
+This task would have appeared impossible to any one else. The reader may
+judge.
+
+Djalma, with his face turned towards the left, leaned his head upon his
+curved arm. It was first necessary, without waking him, to oblige him to
+turn his face towards the right (that is, towards the door), so that, in
+case of his being half-roused, his first glance might not fall upon the
+Strangler. The latter, to accomplish his projects, would have to remain
+many minutes in the cabin.
+
+The heavens became darker; the heat arrived at its last degree of
+intensity; everything combined to increase the torpor of the sleeper, and
+so favor the Strangler's designs. Kneeling down close to Djalma, he
+began, with the tips of his supple, well-oiled fingers, to stroke the
+brow, temples, and eyelids of the young Indian, but with such extreme
+lightness, that the contact of the two skins was hardly sensible. When
+this kind of magnetic incantation had lasted for some seconds, the sweat,
+which bathed the forehead of Djalma, became more abundant: he heaved a
+smothered sigh, and the muscles of his face gave several twitches, for
+the strokings, although too light to rouse him, yet caused in him a
+feeling of indefinable uneasiness.
+
+Watching him with his restless and burning eye, the Strangler continued
+his maneuvers with so much patience, that Djalma, still sleeping, but no
+longer able to bear this vague, annoying sensation, raised his right hand
+mechanically to his face, as if he would have brushed away an importunate
+insect. But he had not strength to do it; almost immediately after, his
+hand, inert and heavy, fell back upon his chest. The Strangler saw, by
+this symptom, that he was attaining his object, and continued to stroke,
+with the same address, the eyelids, brow, and temples.
+
+Whereupon Djalma, more and more oppressed by heavy sleep, and having
+neither strength nor will to raise his hand to his face, mechanically
+turned round his head, which fell languidly upon his right shoulder,
+seeking by this change of attitude, to escape from the disagreeable
+sensation which pursued him. The first point gained, the Strangler could
+act more freely.
+
+To render as profound as possible the sleep he had half interrupted, he
+now strove to imitate the vampire, and, feigning the action of a fan, he
+rapidly moved his extended hands about the burning face of the young
+Indian. Alive to a feeling of such sudden and delicious coolness, in the
+height of suffocating heat, the countenance of Djalma brightened, his
+bosom heaved, his half-opened lips drank in the grateful air, and he fell
+into a sleep only the more invincible, because it had been at first
+disturbed, and was now yielded to under the influence of a pleasing
+sensation.
+
+A sudden flash of lightning illumined the shady dome that sheltered the
+ajoupa: fearing that the first clap of thunder might rouse the young
+Indian, the Strangler hastened to complete his Task. Djalma lay on his
+back, with his head resting on his right shoulder, and his left arm
+extended; the Thug, crouching at his left side, ceased by degrees the
+process of fanning; then, with incredible dexterity, he succeeded in
+rolling up, above the elbow, the long wide sleeve of white muslin that
+covered the left arm of the sleeper.
+
+He next drew from the pocket of his drawers a copper box, from which he
+took a very fine, sharp-pointed needle, and a piece of a black-looking
+root. He pricked this root several times with the needle, and on each
+occasion there issued from it a white, glutinous liquid.
+
+When the Strangler thought the needle sufficiently impregnated with this
+juice, he bent down, and began to blow gently over the inner surface of
+Djalma's arm, so as to cause a fresh sensation of coolness; then, with
+the point of his needle, he traced almost imperceptibly on the skin of
+the sleeping youth some mysterious and symbolical signs. All this was
+performed so cleverly and the point of the needle was so fine and keen,
+that Djalma did not feel the action of the acid upon the skin.
+
+The signs, which the Strangler had traced, soon appeared on the surface,
+at first in characters of a pale rose-color, as fine as a hair; but such
+was the slowly corrosive power of the juice, that, as it worked and
+spread beneath the skin, they would become in a few hours of a violet
+red, and as apparent as they were now almost invisible.
+
+The Strangler, having so perfectly succeeded in his project, threw a last
+look of ferocious longing on the slumbering Indian, and creeping away
+from the mat, regained the opening by which he had entered the cabin;
+next, closely uniting the edges of the incision, so as to obviate all
+suspicion, he disappeared just as the thunder began to rumble hoarsely in
+the distance.[4]
+
+[4] We read in the letters of the late Victor Jacquemont upon India, with
+regard to the incredible dexterity of these men: "They crawl on the
+ground, ditches, in the furrows of fields, imitate a hundred different
+voices, and dissipate the effect of any accidental noise by raising the
+yelp of the jackal or note of some bird--then are silent, and another
+imitates the call of the same animal in the distance. They can molest a
+sleeper by all sorts of noises and slight touches, and make his body and
+limbs take any position which suits their purpose." Count Edward de
+Warren, in his excellent work on English India, which we shall have again
+occasion to quote, expresses himself in the same manner as to the
+inconceivable address of the Indians: "They have the art," says he, "to
+rob you, without interrupting your sleep, of the very sheet in which you
+are enveloped. This is not 'a traveller's tale.' but a fact. The
+movements of the bheel are those of the serpent. If you sleep in your
+tent, with a servant lying across each entrance, the bheel will come and
+crouch on the outside, in some shady corner, where he can hear the
+breathing of those within. As soon as the European sleeps, he feels sure
+of success, for the Asiatic will not long resist the attraction of
+repose. At the proper moment, he makes a vertical incision in the cloth
+of the tent, on the spot where he happens to be, and just large enough to
+admit him. He glides through like a phantom, without making the least
+grain of sand creak beneath his tread. He is perfectly naked, and all his
+body is rubbed over with oil; a two-edged knife is suspended from his
+neck. He will squat down close to your couch, and, with incredible
+coolness and dexterity, will gather up the sheet in very little folds, so
+as to occupy the least surface possible; then, passing to the other side,
+he will lightly tickle the sleeper, whom he seems to magnetize, till the
+latter shrinks back involuntarily, and ends by turning round, and leaving
+the sheet folded behind him. Should he awake, and strive to seize the
+robber, he catches at a slippery form, which slides through his hands
+like an eel; should he even succeed in seizing him, it would be
+fatal--the dagger strikes him to the heart, he falls bathed in his blood,
+and the assassin disappears."--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE SMUGGLER
+
+The tempest of the morning has long been over. The sun is verging towards
+the horizon. Some hours have elapsed, since the Strangler introduced
+himself into Djalma's cabin, and tattooed him with a mysterious sign
+during his sleep.
+
+A horseman advances rapidly down a long avenue of spreading trees.
+Sheltered by the thick and verdant arch, a thousand birds salute the
+splendid evening with songs and circlings; red and green parrots climb,
+by help of their hooked beaks, to the top of pink-blossomed acacias;
+large Morea birds of the finest and richest blue, whose throats and long
+tails change in the light to a golden brown, are chasing the prince
+oriels, clothed in their glossy feathers of black and orange; Kolo doves,
+of a changeable violet hue, are gently cooing by the side of the birds of
+paradise, in whose brilliant plumage are mingled the prismatic colors of
+the emerald and ruby, the topaz and sapphire.
+
+This avenue, a little raised, commanded a view of a small pond, which
+reflected at intervals the green shade of tamarind trees. In the calm,
+limpid waters, many fish were visible, some with silver scales and purple
+fins, others gleaming with azure and vermilion; so still were they that
+they looked as if set in a mass of bluish crystal, and, as they dwelt
+motionless near the surface of the pool, on which played a dazzling ray
+of the sun, they revelled in the enjoyment of the light and heat. A
+thousand insects--living gems, with wings of flame--glided, fluttered and
+buzzed over the transparent wave, in which, at an extraordinary depth,
+were mirrored the variegated tints of the aquatic plants on the bank.
+
+It is impossible to give an adequate idea of the exuberant nature of this
+scene, luxuriant in the sunlight, colors, and perfumes, which served, so
+to speak, as a frame to the young and brilliant rider, who was advancing
+along the avenue. It was Djalma. He had not yet perceived the indelible
+marks, which the Strangler had traced upon his left arm.
+
+His Japanese mare, of slender make, full of fire and vigor, is black as
+night. A narrow red cloth serves instead of saddle. To moderate the
+impetuous bounds of the animal, Djalma uses a small steel bit, with
+headstall and reins of twisted scarlet silk, fine as a thread.
+
+Not one of those admirable riders, sculptured so masterly on the frieze
+of the Parthenon, sits his horse more gracefully and proudly than this
+young Indian, whose fine face, illumined by the setting sun, is radiant
+with serene happiness; his eyes sparkle with joy, and his dilated
+nostrils and unclosed lips inhale with delight the balmy breeze, that
+brings to him the perfume of flowers and the scent of fresh leaves, for
+the trees are still moist from the abundant rain that fell after the
+storm.
+
+A red cap, similar to that worn by the Greeks, surmounting the black
+locks of Djalma, sets off to advantage the golden tint of his complexion;
+his throat is bare; he is clad in his robe of white muslin with large
+sleeves, confined at the waist by a scarlet sash; very full drawers, in
+white cotton stuff, leave half uncovered his tawny and polished legs;
+their classic curve stands out from the dark sides of the horse, which he
+presses tightly between his muscular calves. He has no stirrups; his
+foot, small and narrow, is shod with a sandal of morocco leather.
+
+The rush of his thoughts, by turns impetuous and restrained, was
+expressed in some degree by the pace he imparted to his horse--now bold
+and precipitate, like the flight of unbridled imagination--now calm and
+measured, like the reflection which succeeds an idle dream. But, in all
+this fantastic course, his least movements were distinguished by a proud,
+independent and somewhat savage grace.
+
+Dispossessed of his paternal territory by the English, and at first
+detained by them as a state-prisoner after the death of his father--who
+(as M. Joshua Van Dael had written to M. Rodin) had fallen sword in
+hand--Djalma had at length been restored to liberty. Abandoning the
+continent of India, and still accompanied by General Simon, who had
+lingered hard by the prison of his old friend's son, the young Indian
+came next to Batavia, the birthplace of his mother, to collect the modest
+inheritance of his maternal ancestors. And amongst this property, so long
+despised or forgotten by his father, he found some important papers, and
+a medal exactly similar to that worn by Rose and Blanche.
+
+General Simon was not more surprised than pleased at this discovery,
+which not only established a tie of kindred between his wife and Djalma's
+mother, but which also seemed to promise great advantages for the future.
+Leaving Djalma at Batavia, to terminate some business there, he had gone
+to the neighboring island of Sumatra, in the hope of finding a vessel
+that would make the passage to Europe directly and rapidly; for it was
+now necessary that, cost what it might, the young Indian also should be
+at Paris on the 13th February, 1832. Should General Simon find a vessel
+ready to sail for Europe, he was to return immediately, to fetch Djalma;
+and the latter, expecting him daily, was now going to the pier of
+Batavia, hoping to see the father of Rose and Blanche arrive by the mail
+boat from Sumatra.
+
+A few words are here necessary on the early life of the son of Kadja
+sing.
+
+Having lost his mother very young, and brought up with rude simplicity,
+he had accompanied his father, whilst yet a child, to the great tiger
+hunts, as dangerous as battles; and, in the first dawn of youth, he had
+followed him to the stern bloody war, which he waged in defence of his
+country. Thus living, from the time of his mother's death, in the midst
+of forests and mountains and continual combats, his vigorous and
+ingenuous nature had preserved itself pure, and he well merited the name
+of "The Generous" bestowed on him. Born a prince, he was--which by no
+means follows--a prince indeed. During the period of his captivity, the
+silent dignity of his bearing had overawed his jailers. Never a reproach,
+never a complaint--a proud and melancholy calm was all that he opposed to
+a treatment as unjust as it was barbarous, until he was restored to
+freedom.
+
+Having thus been always accustomed to a patriarchal life, or to a war of
+mountaineers, which he had only quitted to pass a few months in prison,
+Djalma knew nothing, so to speak, of civilized society. Without its
+exactly amounting to a defect, he certainly carried his good qualities to
+their extreme limits. Obstinately faithful to his pledged word, devoted
+to the death, confiding to blindness, good almost to a complete
+forgetfulness of himself, he was inflexible towards ingratitude,
+falsehood, or perfidy. He would have felt no compunction to sacrifice a
+traitor, because, could he himself have committed a treason, he would
+have thought it only just to expiate it with his life.
+
+He was, in a word, the man of natural feelings, absolute and entire. Such
+a man, brought into contact with the temperaments, calculations,
+falsehoods, deceptions, tricks, restrictions, and hollowness of a refined
+society, such as Paris, for example, would, without doubt, form a very
+curious subject for speculation. We raise this hypothesis, because, since
+his journey to France had been determined on, Djalma had one fixed,
+ardent desire--to be in Paris.
+
+In Paris--that enchanted city--of which, even in Asia, the land of
+enchantment, so many marvelous tales were told.
+
+What chiefly inflamed the fresh, vivid imagination of the young Indian,
+was the thought of French women--those attractive Parisian beauties,
+miracles of elegance and grace, who eclipsed, he was informed, even the
+magnificence of the capitals of the civilized world. And at this very
+moment, in the brightness of that warm and splendid evening, surrounded
+by the intoxication of flowers and perfumes, which accelerated the pulses
+of his young fiery heart, Djalma was dreaming of those exquisite
+creatures, whom his fancy loved to clothe in the most ideal garbs.
+
+It seemed to him as if, at the end of the avenue, in the midst of that
+sheet of golden light, which the trees encompassed with their full, green
+arch, he could see pass and repass, white and sylph-like, a host of
+adorable and voluptuous phantoms, that threw him kisses from the tips of
+their rosy fingers. Unable to restrain his burning emotions, carried away
+by a strange enthusiasm, Djalma uttered exclamations of joy, deep, manly,
+and sonorous, and made his vigorous courser bound under him in the
+excitement of a mad delight. Just then a sunbeam, piercing the dark vault
+of the avenue, shone full upon him.
+
+For several minutes, a man had been advancing rapidly along a path,
+which, at its termination, intersected the avenue diagonally. He stopped
+a moment in the shade, looking at Djalma with astonishment. It was indeed
+a charming sight, to behold, in the midst of a blaze of dazzling lustre,
+this youth, so handsome, joyous, and ardent, clad in his white and
+flowing vestments, gayly and lightly seated on his proud black mare, who
+covered her red bridle with her foam, and whose long tail and thick mane
+floated on the evening breeze.
+
+But, with that reaction which takes place in all human desires, Djalma
+soon felt stealing over him a sentiment of soft, undefinable melancholy.
+He raised his hand to his eyes, now dimmed with moisture, and allowed the
+reins to fall on the mane of his docile steed, which, instantly stopping,
+stretched out its long neck, and turned its head in the direction of the
+personage, whom it could see approaching through the coppice.
+
+This man, Mahal the Smuggler, was dressed nearly like European sailors.
+He wore jacket and trousers of white duck, a broad red sash, and a very
+low-crowned straw hat. His face was brown, with strongly-marked features,
+and, though forty years of age, he was quite beardless.
+
+In another moment, Mahal was close to the young Indian. "You are Prince
+Djalma?" said he, in not very good French, raising his hand respectfully
+to his hat.
+
+"What would you?" said the Indian.
+
+"You are the son of Kadja-sing?"
+
+"Once again, what would you?"
+
+"The friend of General Simon?"
+
+"General Simon?" cried Djalma.
+
+"You are going to meet him, as you have gone every evening, since you
+expect his return from Sumatra?"
+
+"Yes, but how do you know all this?" said the Indian looking at the
+Smuggler with as much surprise as curiosity.
+
+"Is he not to land at Batavia, to-day or to-morrow?"
+
+"Are you sent by him?"
+
+"Perhaps," said Mahal, with a distrustful air. "But are you really the
+son of Kadja-sing?"
+
+"Yes, I tell you--but where have you seen General Simon?"
+
+"If you are the son of Kadja-sing," resumed Mahal, continuing to regard
+Djalma with a suspicious eye, "what is your surname?"
+
+"My sire was called the 'Father of the Generous,'" answered the young
+Indian, as a shade of sorrow passed over his fine countenance.
+
+These words appeared in part to convince Mahal of the identity of Djalma;
+but, wishing doubtless to be still more certain, he resumed: "You must
+have received, two days ago, a letter from General Simon, written from
+Sumatra?"
+
+"Yes; but why so many questions?"
+
+"To assure myself that you are really the son of Kadja-sing, and to
+execute the orders I have received."
+
+"From whom?"
+
+"From General Simon."
+
+"But where is he?"
+
+"When I have proof that you are Prince Djalma, I will tell you. I was
+informed that you would be mounted on a black mare, with a red bridle.
+But--"
+
+"By the soul of my mother! speak what you have to say!"
+
+"I will tell you all--if you can tell me what was the printed paper,
+contained in the last letter that General Simon wrote you from Sumatra."
+
+"It was a cutting from a French newspaper."
+
+"Did it announce good or bad news for the general?"
+
+"Good news--for it related that, during his absence, they had
+acknowledged the last rank and title bestowed on him by the Emperor, as
+they had done for others of his brothers in arms, exiled like him."
+
+"You are indeed Prince Djalma," said the Smuggler, after a moment's
+reflection. "I may speak. General Simon landed last night in Java, but on
+a desert part of the coast."
+
+"On a desert part?"
+
+"Because he has to hide himself."
+
+"Hide himself!" exclaimed Djalma, in amazement; "why?"
+
+"That I don't know."
+
+"But where is he?" asked Djalma, growing pale with alarm.
+
+"He is three leagues hence--near the sea-shore--in the ruins of Tchandi."
+
+"Obliged to hide himself!" repeated Djalma, and his countenance expressed
+increasing surprise and anxiety.
+
+"Without being certain, I think it is because of a duel he fought in
+Sumatra," said the Smuggler, mysteriously.
+
+"A duel--with whom?"
+
+"I don't know--I am not at all certain on the subject. But do you know
+the ruins of Tchandi?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"The general expects you there; that is what he ordered me to tell you."
+
+"So you came with him from Sumatra?"
+
+"I was pilot of the little smuggling coaster, that landed him in the
+night on a lonely beach. He knew that you went every day to the mole, to
+wait for him; I was almost sure that I should meet you. He gave me
+details about the letter you received from him as a proof that he had
+sent me. If he could have found the means of writing, he would have
+written."
+
+"But he did not tell you why he was obliged to hide himself?"
+
+"He told me nothing. Certain words made me suspect what I told you--a
+duel."
+
+Knowing the mettle of General Simon, Djalma thought the suspicions of the
+Smuggler not unfounded. After a moment's silence he said to him: "Can you
+undertake to lead home my horse? My dwelling is without the town--there,
+in the midst of those trees--by the side of the new mosque. In ascending
+the mountain of Tchandi, my horse would be in my way; I shall go much
+faster on foot."
+
+"I know where you live; General Simon told me. I should have gone there
+if I had not met you. Give me your horse."
+
+Djalma sprang lightly to the ground, threw the bridle to Mahal, unrolled
+one end of his sash, took out a silk purse, and gave it to the Smuggler,
+saying: "You have been faithful and obedient. Here!--it is a trifle--but
+I have no more."
+
+"Kadja-sing was rightly called the 'Father of the Generous,'" said the
+Smuggler, bowing with respect and gratitude. He took the road to Batavia,
+leading Djalma's horse. The young Indian, on the contrary, plunged into
+the coppice, and, walking with great strides, he directed his course
+towards the mountain, on which were the ruins of Tchandi, where he could
+not arrive before night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+M. JOSHUA VAN DAEL.
+
+M. Joshua Van Dael a Dutch merchant, and correspondent of M. Rodin, was
+born at Batavia, the capital of the island of Java; his parents had sent
+him to be educated at Pondicherry, in a celebrated religious house, long
+established in that place, and belonging to the "Society of Jesus." It
+was there that he was initiated into the order as "professor of the three
+vows," or lay member, commonly called "temporal coadjutor."
+
+Joshua was a man of probity that passed for stainless; of strict accuracy
+in business, cold, careful, reserved, and remarkably skillful and
+sagacious; his financial operations were almost always successful, for a
+protecting power gave him ever in time, knowledge of events which might
+advantageously influence his commercial transactions. The religious house
+of Pondicherry was interested in his affairs, having charged him with the
+exportation and exchange of the produce of its large possessions in this
+colony.
+
+Speaking little, hearing much, never disputing, polite in the
+extreme--giving seldom, but with choice and purpose--Joshua, without
+inspiring sympathy, commanded generally that cold respect, which is
+always paid to the rigid moralist; for instead of yielding to the
+influence of lax and dissolute colonial manners, he appeared to live with
+great regularity, and his exterior had something of austerity about it,
+which tended to overawe.
+
+The following scene took place at Batavia, while Djalma was on his way to
+the ruins of Tchandi in the hope of meeting General Simon.
+
+M. Joshua had just retired into his cabinet, in which were many shelves
+filled with paper boxes, and huge ledgers and cash boxes lying open upon
+desks. The only window of this apartment, which was on the ground floor,
+looked out upon a narrow empty court, and was protected externally by
+strong iron bars; instead of glass, it was fitted with a Venetian blind,
+because of the extreme heat of the climate.
+
+M. Joshua, having placed upon his desk a taper in a glass globe, looked
+at the clock. "Half-past nine," said he. "Mahal ought soon to be here."
+
+Saying this, he went out, passing through an antechamber, opened a second
+thick door, studded with nail-heads, in the Dutch fashion, cautiously
+entered the court (so as not to be heard by the people in the house), and
+drew back the secret bolt of a gate six feet high, formidably garnished
+with iron spikes. Leaving this gate unfastened, he regained his cabinet,
+after he had successively and carefully closed the two other doors behind
+him.
+
+M. Joshua next seated himself at his desk, and took from a drawer a long
+letter, or rather statement, commenced some time before, and continued
+day by day. It is superfluous to observe, that the letter already
+mentioned, as addressed to M. Rodin, was anterior to the liberation of
+Djalma and his arrival at Batavia.
+
+The present statement was also addressed to M. Rodin, and Van Dael thus
+went on with it:
+
+"Fearing the return of General Simon, of which I had been informed by
+intercepting his letters--I have already told you, that I had succeeded
+in being employed by him as his agent here; having then read his letters,
+and sent them on as if untouched to Djalma, I felt myself obliged, from
+the pressure of the circumstances, to have recourse to extreme
+measures--taking care always to preserve appearances, and rendering at
+the same time a signal service to humanity, which last reason chiefly
+decided me.
+
+"A new danger imperiously commanded these measures. The steamship
+'Ruyter' came in yesterday, and sails tomorrow in the course of the day.
+She is to make the voyage to Europe via the Arabian Gulf; her passengers
+will disembark at Suez, cross the Isthmus, and go on board another vessel
+at Alexandria, which will bring them to France. This voyage, as rapid as
+it is direct, will not take more than seven or eight weeks. We are now at
+the end of October; Prince Djalma might then be in France by the
+commencement of the month of January; and according to your instructions,
+of which I know not the motive, but which I execute with zeal and
+submission, his departure must be prevented at all hazards, because, you
+tell me, some of the gravest interests of the Society would be
+compromised, by the arrival of this young Indian in Paris before the 13th
+of February. Now, if I succeed, as I hope, in making him miss this
+opportunity of the 'Ruyter' it will be materially impossible for him to
+arrive in France before the month of April; for the 'Ruyter' is the only
+vessel which makes the direct passage, the others taking at least four or
+five months to reach Europe.
+
+"Before telling you the means which I have thought right to employ, to
+detain Prince Djalma--of the success of which means I am yet
+uncertain--it is well that you should be acquainted with the following
+facts.
+
+"They have just discovered, in British India, a community whose members
+call themselves 'Brothers of the Good Work,' or 'Phansegars,' which
+signifies simply 'Thugs' or 'Stranglers;' these murderers do not shed
+blood, but strangle their victims, less for the purpose of robbing them,
+than in obedience to a homicidal vocation, and to the laws of an infernal
+divinity named by them 'Bowanee.'
+
+"I cannot better give you an idea of this horrible sect, than by
+transcribing here some lines from the introduction of a report by Colonel
+Sleeman, who has hunted out this dark association with indefatigable
+zeal. The report in question was published about two months ago. Here is
+the extract; it is the colonel who speaks:
+
+"'From 1822 to 1824, when I was charged with the magistracy and civil
+administration of the district of Nersingpore, not a murder, not the
+least robbery was committed by an ordinary criminal, without my being
+immediately informed of it; but if any one had come and told me at this
+period, that a band of hereditary assassins by profession lived in the
+village of Kundelie, within about four hundred yards of my court of
+justice--that the beautiful groves of the village of Mundesoor, within a
+day's march of my residence, formed one of the most frightful marts of
+assassination in all India--that numerous bands of 'Brothers of the Good
+Work,' coming from Hindostan and the Deccan, met annually beneath these
+shades, as at a solemn festival, to exercise their dreadful vocation upon
+all the roads which cross each other in this locality--I should have
+taken such a person for a madman, or one who had been imposed upon by
+idle tales. And yet nothing could be truer; hundreds of travellers had
+been buried every year in the groves of Mundesoor; a whole tribe of
+assassins lived close to my door, at the very time I was supreme
+magistrate of the province, and extended their devastations to the cities
+of Poonah and Hyderabad. I shall never forget, when, to convince me of
+the fact, one of the chiefs of the Stranglers, who had turned informer
+against them, caused thirteen bodies to be dug up from the ground beneath
+my tent, and offered to produce any number from the soil in the immediate
+vicinity.'[5]
+
+"These few words of Colonel Sleeman will give some idea of this dread
+society, which has its laws, duties, customs, opposed to all other laws,
+human and divine. Devoted to each other, even to heroism, blindly
+obedient to their chiefs, who profess themselves the immediate
+representatives of their dark divinity, regarding as enemies all who do
+not belong to them, gaining recruits everywhere by a frightful system of
+proselytising--these apostles of a religion of murder go preaching their
+abominable doctrines in the shade, and spreading their immense net over
+the whole of India.
+
+"Three of their principal chiefs, and one of their adepts, flying from
+the determined pursuit of the English governor-general, having succeeded
+in making their escape, had arrived at the Straits of Malacca, at no
+great distance from our island; a smuggler, who is also something of a
+pirate, attached to their association, and by name Mahal, took them on
+board his coasting vessel, and brought them hither, where they think
+themselves for some time in safety--as, following the advice of the
+smuggler, they lie concealed in a thick forest, in which are many ruined
+temples and numerous subterranean retreats.
+
+"Amongst these chiefs, all three remarkably intelligent, there is one in
+particular, named Faringhea, whose extraordinary energy and eminent
+qualities make him every way redoubtable. He is of the mixed race, half
+white and Hindoo, has long inhabited towns in which are European
+factories and speaks English and French very well. The other two chiefs
+are a <DW64> and a Hindoo; the adept is a Malay.
+
+"The smuggler, Mahal, considering that he could obtain a large reward by
+giving up these three chiefs and their adept, came to me, knowing, as all
+the world knows, my intimate relations with a person who has great
+influence with our governor. Two days ago, he offered me, on certain
+conditions, to deliver up the <DW64>, the half-caste, the Hindoo, and the
+Malay. These conditions are--a considerable sum of money, and a free
+passage on board a vessel sailing for Europe or America, in order to
+escape the implacable vengeance of the Thugs.
+
+"I joyfully seized the occasion to hand over three such murderers to
+human justice, and I promised Mahal to arrange matters for him with the
+governor, but also on certain conditions, innocent in themselves, and
+which concerned Djalma. Should my project succeed, I will explain myself
+more at length; I shall soon know the result, for I expect Mahal every
+minute.
+
+"But before I close these despatches, which are to go tomorrow by the
+'Ruyter'--in which vessel I have also engaged a passage for Mahal the
+Smuggler, in the event of the success of my plans--I must include in
+parentheses a subject of some importance.
+
+"In my last letter, in which I announced to you the death of Djalma's
+father, and his own imprisonment by the English, I asked for some
+information as to the solvency of Baron Tripeaud, banker and manufacturer
+at Paris, who has also an agency at Calcutta. This information will now
+be useless, if what I have just learned should, unfortunately, turn out
+to be correct, and it will be for you to act according to circumstances.
+
+"This house at Calcutta owes considerable sums both to me and our
+colleague at Pondicherry, and it is said that M. Tripeaud has involved
+himself to a dangerous extent in attempting to ruin, by opposition, a
+very flourishing establishment, founded some time ago by M. Francois
+Hardy, an eminent manufacturer. I am assured that M. Tripeaud has already
+sunk and lost a large capital in this enterprise: he has no doubt done a
+great deal of harm to M. Francois Hardy; but he has also, they say,
+seriously compromised his own fortune--and, were he to fail, the effects
+of his disaster would be very fatal to us, seeing that he owes a large
+sum of money to me and to us.
+
+"In this state of things it would be very desirable if, by the employment
+of the powerful means of every kind at our disposal, we could completely
+discredit and break down the house of M. Francois Hardy, already shaken
+by M. Tripeaud's violent opposition. In that case, the latter would soon
+regain all he has lost; the ruin of his rival would insure his
+prosperity, and our demands would be securely covered.
+
+"Doubtless, it is painful, it is sad, to be obliged to have recourse to
+these extreme measures, only to get back our own; but, in these days, are
+we not surely justified in sometimes using the arms that are incessantly
+turned against us? If we are reduced to such steps by the injustice and
+wickedness of men, we may console ourselves with the reflection that we
+only seek to preserve our worldly possessions, in order to devote them to
+the greater glory of God; whilst, in the hands of our enemies, those very
+goods are the dangerous instruments of perdition and scandal.
+
+"After all it is merely a humble proposition that I submit to you. Were
+it in my power to take an active part in the matter, I should do nothing
+of myself. My will is not my own. It belongs, with all I possess, to
+those whom I have sworn absolute obedience."
+
+Here a slight noise interrupted M. Joshua, and drew his attention from
+his work. He rose abruptly, and went straight to the window. Three gentle
+taps were given on the outside of one of the slats of the blind.
+
+"Is it you, Mahal?" asked M. Joshua, in a low voice.
+
+"It is I," was answered from without, also in a low tone.
+
+"And the Malay?"
+
+"He has succeeded."
+
+"Really!" cried M. Joshua, with an expression of great satisfaction; "are
+you sure of it?"
+
+"Quite sure: there is no devil more clever and intrepid."
+
+"And Djalma?"
+
+"The parts of the letter, which I quoted, convinced him that I came from
+General Simon, and that he would find him at the ruins of Tchandi."
+
+"Therefore, at this moment--"
+
+"Djalma goes to the ruins, where he will encounter the black, the half
+blood, and the Indian. It is there they have appointed to meet the Malay,
+who tattooed the prince during his sleep."
+
+"Have you been to examine the subterraneous passage?"
+
+"I went there yesterday. One of the stones of the pedestal of the statue
+turns upon itself; the stairs are large; it will do."
+
+"And the three chiefs have no suspicion?"
+
+"None--I saw them in the morning--and this evening the Malay came to tell
+me all, before he went to join them at the ruins of Tchandi--for he had
+remained hidden amongst the bushes, not daring to go there in the
+daytime."
+
+"Mahal--if you have told the truth, and if all succeed--your pardon and
+ample reward are assured to you. Your berth has been taken on board the
+'Ruyter;' you will sail to-morrow; you will thus be safe from the malice
+of the Stranglers, who would follow you hither to revenge the death of
+their chiefs, Providence having chosen you to deliver those three great
+criminals to justice. Heaven will bless you!--Go and wait for me at the
+door of the governor's house; I will introduce you. The matter is so
+important that I do not hesitate to disturb him thus late in the night.
+Go quickly!--I will follow on my side."
+
+The steps of Mahal were distinctly audible, as he withdrew precipitately,
+and then silence reigned once more in the house. Joshua returned to his
+desk, and hastily added these words to the despatch, which he had before
+commenced:
+
+"Whatever may now happen, it will be impossible for Djalma to leave
+Batavia at present. You may rest quite satisfied; he will not be at Paris
+by the 13th of next February. As I foresaw, I shall have to be up all
+night.--I am just going to the governor's. To-morrow I will add a few
+lines to this long statement, which the steamship 'Ruyter' will convey to
+Europe."
+
+Having locked up his papers, Joshua rang the bell loudly, and, to the
+great astonishment of his servants, not accustomed to see him leave home
+in the middle of the night, went in all haste to the residence of the
+governor of the island.
+
+We now conduct the reader to the ruins of Tchandi.
+
+[5] This report is extracted from Count Edward de Warren's excellent work,
+"British India in 1831."--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE RUINS OF TCHANDI.
+
+To the storm in the middle of the day, the approach of which so well
+served the Strangler's designs upon Djalma, has succeeded a calm and
+serene night. The disk of the moon rises slowly behind a mass of lofty
+ruins, situated on a hill, in the midst of a thick wood, about three
+leagues from Batavia.
+
+Long ranges of stone, high walls of brick, fretted away by time,
+porticoes covered with parasitical vegetation, stand out boldly from the
+sheet of silver light which blends the horizon with the limpid blue of
+the heavens. Some rays of the moon, gliding through the opening on one of
+these porticoes, fall upon two colossal statues at the foot of an immense
+staircase, the loose stones of which are almost entirely concealed by
+grass, moss, and brambles.
+
+The fragments of one of these statues, broken in the middle, lie strewed
+upon the ground; the other, which remains whole and standing, is
+frightful to behold. It represents a man of gigantic proportions, with a
+head three feet high; the expression of the countenance is ferocious,
+eyes of brilliant slaty black are set beneath gray brows, the large, deep
+mouth gapes immoderately, and reptiles have made their nest between the
+lips of stone; by the light of the moon, a hideous swarm is there dimly
+visible. A broad girdle, adorned with symbolic ornaments, encircles the
+body of this statue, and fastens a long sword to its right side. The
+giant has four extended arms, and, in his great hands, he bears an
+elephant's head, a twisted serpent, a human skull, and a bird resembling
+a heron. The moon, shedding her light on the profile of this statue,
+serves to augment the weirdness of its aspect.
+
+Here and there, enclosed in the half-crumbling walls of brick, are
+fragments of stone bas-reliefs, very boldly cut; one of those in the best
+preservation represents a man with the head of an elephant, and the wings
+of a bat, devouring a child. Nothing can be more gloomy than these ruins,
+buried among thick trees of a dark green, covered with frightful emblems,
+and seen by the moonlight, in the midst of the deep silence of night.
+
+Against one of the walls of this ancient temple, dedicated to some
+mysterious and bloody Javanese divinity, leans a kind of hut, rudely
+constructed of fragments of brick and stone; the door, made of woven
+rushes, is open, and a red light streams from it, which throws its rays
+on the tall grass that covers the ground. Three men are assembled in this
+hovel, around a clay-lamp, with a wick of cocoanut fibre steeped in
+palm-oil.
+
+The first of these three, about forty years of age, is poorly clad in the
+European fashion; his pale, almost white, complexion, announces that he
+belongs to the mixed race, being offspring of a white father and Indian
+mother.
+
+The second is a robust African <DW64>, with thick lips, vigorous
+shoulders, and lank legs; his woolly hair is beginning to turn gray; he
+is covered with rags, and stands close beside the Indian. The third
+personage is asleep, and stretched on a mat in the corner of the hovel.
+
+These three men are the three Thuggee chiefs, who, obliged to fly from
+the continent of India, have taken refuge in Java, under the guidance of
+Mahal the Smuggler.
+
+"The Malay does not return," said the half-blood, named Faringhea, the
+most redoubtable chief of this homicidal sect: "in executing our orders,
+he has perhaps been killed by Djalma."
+
+"The storm of this morning brought every reptile out of the earth," said
+the <DW64>; "the Malay must have been bitten, and his body ere now a nest
+of serpents."
+
+"To serve the good work," proceeded Faringhea, with a gloomy air, "one
+must know how to brave death."
+
+"And to inflict it," added the <DW64>.
+
+A stifled cry, followed by some inarticulate words, here drew the
+attention of these two men, who hastily turned their heads in the
+direction of the sleeper. This latter was thirty years old at most. His
+beardless face, of a bright copper color, his robe of coarse stuff, his
+turban striped brown and yellow, showed that he belonged to the pure
+Hindoo race. His sleep appeared agitated by some painful vision; an
+abundant sweat streamed over his countenance, contracted by terror; he
+spoke in his dream, but his words were brief and broken, and accompanied
+with convulsive starts.
+
+"Again that dream!" said Faringhea to the <DW64>. "Always the remembrance
+of that man."
+
+"What man?"
+
+"Do you not remember, how, five years ago, that savage, Colonel Kennedy,
+butcher of the Indians, came to the banks of the Ganges, to hunt the
+tiger, with twenty horses, four elephants, and fifty servants?"
+
+"Yes, yes," said the <DW64>; "and we three, hunters of men, made a better
+day's sport than he did. Kennedy, his horses, his elephants, and his
+numerous servants did not get their tiger--but we got ours," he added,
+with grim irony. "Yes; Kennedy, that tiger with a human face, fell into
+our ambush, and the brothers of the good work offered up their fine prey
+to our goddess Bowanee."
+
+"If you remember, it was just at the moment when we gave the last tug to
+the cord round Kennedy's neck, that we perceived on a sudden a traveller
+close at hand. He had seen us, and it was necessary to make away with
+him. Now, since that time," added Faringhea, "the remembrance of the
+murder of that man pursues our brother in his dreams," and he pointed to
+the sleeping Indian.
+
+"And even when he is awake," said the <DW64>, looking at Faringhea with a
+significant air.
+
+"Listen!" said the other, again pointing to the Indian, who, in the
+agitation of his dream, recommenced talking in abrupt sentences; "listen!
+he is repeating the answers of the traveller, when we told him he must
+die, or serve with us on Thuggee. His mind is still impressed--deeply
+impressed--with those words."
+
+And, in fact, the Indian repeated aloud in his sleep, a sort of
+mysterious dialogue, of which he himself supplied both questions and
+answers.
+
+"'Traveller,' said he, in a voice broken by sudden pauses, 'why that
+black mark on your forehead, stretching from one temple to the other? It
+is a mark of doom and your look is sad as death. Have you been a victim?
+Come with us; Kallee will avenge you. You have suffered?'--'Yes, I have
+greatly suffered.'--'For a long time?'--'Yes, for a very long
+time.'--'You suffer even now?'--'Yes, even now.'--What do you reserve for
+those who injure you?'--'My pity.'--'Will you not render blow for
+blow?'--'I will return love for hate.'--'Who are you, then, that render
+good for evil?'--'I am one who loves, and suffers, and forgives.'"
+
+"Brother, do you hear?" said the <DW64> to Faringhea; "he has not
+forgotten the words of the traveller before his death."
+
+"The vision follows him. Listen! he will speak again. How pale he is!"
+Still under the influence of his dream, the Indian continued:
+
+"'Traveller, we are three; we are brave; we have your life in our
+hands--you have seen us sacrifice to the good work. Be one of us, or
+die--die--die! Oh, that look! Not thus--do not look at me thus!'" As he
+uttered these last words, the Indian made a sudden movement, as if to
+keep off some approaching object, and awoke with a start. Then, passing
+his hand over his moist forehead, he looked round him with a bewildered
+eye.
+
+"What! again this dream, brother?" said Faringhea. "For a bold hunter of
+men, you have a weak head. Luckily, you have a strong heart and arm."
+
+The other remained a moment silent, his face buried in his hands; then he
+replied: "It is long since I last dreamed of that traveller."
+
+"Is he not dead?" said Faringhea, shrugging his shoulders. "Did you not
+yourself throw the cord around his neck?"
+
+"Yes," replied the Indian shuddering.
+
+"Did we not dig his grave by the side of Colonel Kennedy's? Did we not
+bury him with the English butcher, under the sand and the rushes?" said
+the <DW64>.
+
+"Yes, we dug his grave," said the Indian, trembling; "and yet, only a
+year ago, I was seated one evening at the gate of Bombay, waiting for one
+of our brothers--the sun was setting behind the pagoda, to the right of
+the little hill--the scene is all before me now--I was seated under a
+figtree--when I heard a slow, firm, even step, and, as I turned round my
+head--I saw him--coming out of the town."
+
+"A vision," said the <DW64>; "always the same vision!"
+
+"A vision," added Faringhea, "or a vague resemblance."
+
+"I knew him by the black mark on his forehead; it was none but he. I
+remained motionless with fear, gazing at him with eyes aghast. He
+stopped, bending upon me his calm, sad look. In spite of myself, I could
+not help exclaiming: 'It is he!'--'Yes,' he replied, in his gentle voice,
+'it is I. Since all whom thou killest must needs live again,' and he
+pointed to heaven as he spoke, 'why shouldst thou kill?--Hear me! I have
+just come from Java; I am going to the other end of the world, to a
+country of never-melting snow; but, here or there, on plains of fire or
+plains of ice, I shall still be the same. Even so is it with the souls of
+those who fall beneath thy kalleepra; in this world or up above, in this
+garb or in another, the soul must still be a soul; thou canst not smite
+it. Why then kill?'--and shaking his head sorrowfully, he went on his
+way, walking slowly, with downcast eyes; he ascended the hill of the
+pagoda; I watched him as he went, without being able to move: at the
+moment the sun set, he was standing on the summit of the hill, his tall
+figure thrown out against the sky--and so he disappeared. Oh! it was he!"
+added the Indian with a shudder, after a long pause: "it was none but
+he."
+
+In this story the Indian had never varied, though he had often
+entertained his companions with the same mysterious adventure. This
+persistency on his part had the effect of shaking their incredulity, or
+at least of inducing them to seek some natural cause for this apparently
+superhuman event.
+
+"Perhaps," said Faringhea, after a moment's reflection, "the knot round
+the traveller's neck got jammed, and some breath was left him, the air
+may have penetrated the rushes with which we covered his grave, and so
+life have returned to him."
+
+"No, no," said the Indian, shaking his head, "this man is not of our
+race."
+
+"Explain."
+
+"Now I know it!"
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+"Listen!" said the Indian, in a solemn voice; "the number of victims that
+the children of Bowanee have sacrificed since the commencement of ages,
+is nothing compared to the immense heap of dead and dying, whom this
+terrible traveller leaves behind him in his murderous march."
+
+"He?" cried the <DW64> and Faringhea.
+
+"Yes, he!" repeated the Hindoo, with a convinced accent, that made its
+impression upon his companions. "Hear me and tremble!--When I met this
+traveller at the gates of Bombay, he came from Java, and was going
+towards the north, he said. The very next day, the town was a prey to the
+cholera, and we learned sometime after, that this plague had first broken
+out here, in Java."
+
+"That is true," said the <DW64>.
+
+"Hear me still further!" resumed the other. "'I am going towards the
+north, to a country of eternal snow,' said the traveller to me. The
+cholera also went towards the north, passing through Muscat--Ispahan
+--Tauris--Tiflis--till it overwhelmed Siberia."
+
+"True," said Faringhea, becoming thoughtful:
+
+"And the cholera," resumed the Indian, "only travelled its five or six
+leagues a day--a man's tramp--never appeared in two places at once--but
+swept on slowly, steadily,--even as a man proceeds."
+
+At the mention of this strange coincidence, the Hindoo's companions
+looked at each other in amazement. After a silence of some minutes, the
+awe-struck <DW64> said to the last speaker: "So you think that this man--"
+
+"I think that this man, whom we killed, restored to life by some infernal
+divinity, has been commissioned to bear this terrible scourge over the
+earth, and to scatter round his steps that death, from which he is
+himself secure. Remember!" added the Indian, with gloomy enthusiasm,
+"this awful wayfarer passed through Java--the cholera wasted Java. He
+passed through Bombay--the cholera wasted Bombay. He went towards the
+north--the cholera wasted the north."
+
+So saying, the Indian fell into a profound reverie. The <DW64> and
+Faringhea were seized with gloomy astonishment.
+
+The Indian spoke the truth as to the mysterious march (still unexplained)
+of that fearful malady, which has never been known to travel more than
+five or six leagues a day, or to appear simultaneously in two spots.
+Nothing can be more curious, than to trace out, on the maps prepared at
+the period in question, the slow, progressive course of this travelling
+pestilence, which offers to the astonished eye all the capricious
+incidents of a tourist's journey. Passing this way rather than
+that--selecting provinces in a country--towns in a province--one quarter
+in a town--one street in a quarter--one house in a street--having its
+place of residence and repose, and then continuing its slow, mysterious,
+fear inspiring march.
+
+The words of the Hindoo, by drawing attention to these dreadful
+eccentricities, made a strong impression upon the minds of the <DW64> and
+Faringhea--wild natures, brought by horrible doctrines to the monomania
+of murder.
+
+Yes--for this also is an established fact--there have been in India
+members of an abominable community, who killed without motive, without
+passion--killed for the sake of killing--for the pleasure of murder--to
+substitute death for life--to make of a living man a corpse, as they have
+themselves declared in one of their examinations.
+
+The mind loses itself in the attempt to penetrate the causes of these
+monstrous phenomena. By what incredible series of events, have men been
+induced to devote themselves to this priesthood of destruction? Without
+doubt, such a religion could only flourish in countries given up, like
+India, to the most atrocious slavery, and to the most merciless iniquity
+of man to man.
+
+Such a creed!--is it not the hate of exasperated humanity, wound up to
+its highest pitch by oppression?--May not this homicidal sect, whose
+origin is lost in the night of ages, have been perpetuated in these
+regions, as the only possible protest of slavery against despotism? May
+not an inscrutable wisdom have here made Phansegars, even as are made
+tigers and serpents?
+
+What is most remarkable in this awful sect, is the mysterious bond,
+which, uniting its members amongst themselves, separates them from all
+other men. They have laws and customs of their own, they support and help
+each other, but for them there is neither country nor family; they owe no
+allegiance save to a dark, invisible power, whose decrees they obey with
+blind submission, and in whose name they spread themselves abroad, to
+make corpses, according to their own savage expression.[6]
+
+For some moments the three Stranglers had maintained a profound silence.
+
+Outside the hut, the moon continued to throw great masses of white
+radiance, and tall bluish shadows, over the imposing fabric of the ruins;
+the stars sparkled in the heavens; from time to time, a faint breeze
+rustled through the thick and varnished leaves of the bananas and the
+palms.
+
+The pedestal of the gigantic statue, which, still entire, stood on the
+left side of the portico, rested upon large flagstones, half hidden with
+brambles. Suddenly, one of these stones appeared to fall in; and from the
+aperture, which thus formed itself without noise, a man, dressed in
+uniform, half protruded his body, looked carefully around him, and
+listened.
+
+Seeing the rays of the lamp, which lighted the interior of the hovel,
+tremble upon the tall grass, he turned round to make a signal, and soon,
+accompanied by two other soldiers, he ascended, with the greatest silence
+and precaution, the last steps of the subterranean staircase, and went
+gliding amongst the ruins. For a few moments, their moving shadows were
+thrown upon the moonlit ground; then they disappeared behind some
+fragments of broken wall.
+
+At the instant when the large stone resumed its place and level, the
+heads of many other soldiers might have been seen lying close in the
+excavation. The half-caste, the Indian, and the <DW64>, still seated
+thoughtfully in the hut, did not perceive what was passing.
+
+[6] The following are some passages from the Count de Warren's very
+curious book, "British India in 1831:" "Besides the robbers, who kill for
+the sake of the booty they hope to find upon travellers, there is a class
+of assassins, forming an organized society, with chiefs of their own, a
+slang-language, a science, a free-masonry, and even a religion, which has
+its fanaticism and its devotion, its agents, emissaries, allies, its
+militant forces, and its passive adherents, who contribute their money to
+the good work. This is the community of the Thugs or Phansegars
+(deceivers or stranglers, from thugna, to deceive, and phansna, to
+strangle), a religious and economical society, which speculates with the
+human race by exterminating men; its origin is lost in the night of ages.
+
+"Until 1810 their existence was unknown, not only to the European
+conquerors, but even to the native governments. Between the years 1816
+and 1830, several of their bands were taken in the act, and punished: but
+until this last epoch, all the revelations made on the subject by
+officers of great experience, had appeared too monstrous to obtain the
+attention or belief of the public; they had been rejected and despised as
+the dreams of a heated imagination. And yet for many years, at the very
+least for half a century, this social wound had been frightfully on the
+increase, devouring the population from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin and
+from Cutch to Assam.
+
+"It was in the year 1830 that the revelations of a celebrated chief,
+whose life was spared on condition of his denouncing his accomplices,
+laid bare the whole system. The basis of the Thuggee Society is a
+religious belief--the worship of Bowanee, a gloomy divinity, who is only
+pleased with carnage, and detests above all things the human race. Her
+most agreeable sacrifices are human victims, and the more of these her
+disciple may have offered up in this world the more he will be
+recompensed in the next by all the delights of soul and sense, by women
+always beautiful, and joys eternally renewed. If the assassin meets the
+scaffold in his career, he dies with the enthusiasm of a martyr, because
+he expects his reward. To obey his divine mistress, he murders, without
+anger and without remorse, the old man, woman and child; whilst, to his
+fellow-religionists, he may be charitable, humane, generous, devoted, and
+may share all in common with them, because, like himself, they are the
+ministers and adopted children of Bowanee. The destruction of his
+fellow-creatures, not belonging to his community--the diminution of the
+human race--that is the primary object of his pursuit; it is not as a
+means of gain, for though plunder may be a frequent, and doubtless an
+agreeable accessory, it is only secondary in his estimation. Destruction
+is his end, his celestial mission, his calling; it is also a delicious
+passion, the most captivating of all sports--this hunting of men!--'You
+find great pleasure,' said one of those that were condemned, 'in tracking
+the wild beast to his den, in attacking the boar, the tiger, because
+there is danger to brave, energy and courage to display. Think how this
+attraction must be redoubled, when the contest is with man, when it is
+man that is to be destroyed. Instead of the single faculty of courage,
+all must be called into action--courage, cunning, foresight, eloquence,
+intrigue. What springs to put in motion! what plans to develop! To sport
+with all the passions, to touch the chords of love and friendship, and so
+draw the prey into one's net--that is a glorious chase--it is a delight,
+a rapture, I tell you!'
+
+"Whoever was in India in the years 1831 and 1832, must remember the
+stupor and affright, which the discovery of this vast infernal machine
+spread through all classes of society. A great number of magistrates and
+administrators of provinces refused to believe in it, and could not be
+brought to comprehend that such a system had so long preyed on the body
+politic, under their eyes as it were, silently, and without betraying
+itself."--See "British India in 183," by Count Edward de Warren, 2 vols.
+in 8vo. Paris, 1844.--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE AMBUSCADE
+
+The half-blood Faringhea, wishing doubtless to escape from the dark
+thoughts which the words of the Indian on the mysterious course of the
+Cholera had raised within him, abruptly changed the subject of
+conversation. His eye shone with lurid fire, and his countenance took an
+expression of savage enthusiasm, as he cried: "Bowanee will always watch
+over us, intrepid hunters of men! Courage, brothers, courage! The world
+is large; our prey is everywhere. The English may force us to quit India,
+three chiefs of the good work--but what matter? We leave there our
+brethren, secret, numerous, and terrible, as black scorpions, whose
+presence is only known by their mortal sting. Exiles will widen our
+domains. Brother, you shall have America!" said he to the Hindoo, with an
+inspired air. "Brother, you shall have Africa!" said he to the <DW64>.
+"Brothers, I will take Europe! Wherever men are to be found, there must
+be oppressors and victims--wherever there are victims, there must be
+hearts swollen with hate--it is for us to inflame that hate with all the
+ardor of vengeance! It is for us, servants of Bowanee, to draw towards
+us, by seducing wiles, all whose zeal, courage, and audacity may be
+useful to the cause. Let us rival each other in devotion and sacrifices;
+let us lend each other strength, help, support! That all who are not with
+us may be our prey, let us stand alone in the midst of all, against all,
+and in spite of all. For us, there must be neither country nor family.
+Our family is composed of our brethren; our country is the world."
+
+This kind of savage eloquence made a deep impression on the <DW64> and the
+Indian, over whom Faringhea generally exercised considerable influence,
+his intellectual powers being very superior to theirs, though they were
+themselves two of the most eminent chiefs of this bloody association.
+"Yes, you are right, brother!" cried the Indian, sharing the enthusiasm
+of Faringhea; "the world is ours. Even here, in Java, let us leave some
+trace of our passage. Before we depart, let us establish the good work in
+this island; it will increase quickly, for here also is great misery, and
+the Dutch are rapacious as the English. Brother, I have seen in the
+marshy rice-fields of this island, always fatal to those who cultivate
+them, men whom absolute want forced to the deadly task--they were livid
+as corpses--some of them worn out with sickness, fatigue, and hunger,
+fell--never to rise again. Brothers, the good work will prosper in this
+country!"
+
+"The other evening," said the half-caste, "I was on the banks of the
+lake, behind a rock; a young woman came there--a few rags hardly covered
+her lean and sun-scorched body--in her arms she held a little child,
+which she pressed weeping to her milkless breast. She kissed it three
+times, and said to it: 'You, at least, shall not be so unhappy as your
+father'--and she threw it into the lake. It uttered one wail, and
+disappeared. On this cry, the alligators, hidden amongst the reeds,
+leaped joyfully into the water. There are mothers here who kill their
+children out of pity.--Brothers, the good work will prosper in this
+country!"
+
+"This morning," said the <DW64>, "whilst they tore the flesh of one of his
+black slaves with whips, a withered old merchant of Batavia left his
+country-house to come to the town. Lolling in his palanquin, he received,
+with languid indolence, the sad caresses of two of those girls, whom he
+had bought, to people his harem, from parents too poor to give them food.
+The palanquin, which held this little old man, and the girls, was carried
+by twelve young and robust men. There are here, you see, mothers who in
+their misery sell their own daughters--slaves that are scourged--men that
+carry other men, like beasts of burden.--Brothers, the good work will
+prosper in this country!"
+
+"Yes, in this country--and in every land of oppression, distress,
+corruption, and slavery."
+
+"Could we but induce Djalma to join us, as Mahal the Smuggler advised,"
+said the Indian, "our voyage to Java would doubly profit us; for we
+should then number among our band this brave and enterprising youth, who
+has so many motives to hate mankind."
+
+"He will soon be here; let us envenom his resentments."
+
+"Remind him of his father's death!"
+
+"Of the massacre of his people!"
+
+"His own captivity!"
+
+"Only let hatred inflame his heart, and he will be ours."
+
+The <DW64>, who had remained for some time lost in thought, said suddenly:
+"Brothers, suppose Mahal the Smuggler were to betray us?"
+
+"He" cried the Hindoo, almost with indignation; "he gave us an asylum on
+board his bark; he secured our flight from the Continent; he is again to
+take us with him to Bombay, where we shall find vessels for America,
+Europe, Africa."
+
+"What interest would Mahal have to betray us?" said Faringhea. "Nothing
+could save him from the vengeance of the sons of Bowanee, and that he
+knows."
+
+"Well," said the black, "he promised to get Djalma to come hither this
+evening, and, once amongst us, he must needs be our own."
+
+"Was it not the Smuggler who told us to order the Malay to enter the
+ajoupa of Djalma, to surprise him during his sleep, and, instead of
+killing him as he might have done, to trace the name of Bowanee upon his
+arm? Djalma will thus learn to judge of the resolution, the cunning and
+obedience of our brethren, and he will understand what he has to hope or
+fear from such men. Be it through admiration or through terror, he must
+become one of us."
+
+"But if he refuses to join us, notwithstanding the reasons he has to hate
+mankind?"
+
+"Then--Bowanee will decide his fate," said Faringhea, with a gloomy look;
+"I have my plan."
+
+"But will the Malay succeed in surprising Djalma during his sleep?" said
+the <DW64>.
+
+"There is none nobler, more agile, more dexterous, than the Malay," said
+Faringhea. "He once had the daring to surprise in her den a black
+panther, as she suckled her cub. He killed the dam, and took away the
+young one, which he afterwards sold to some European ship's captain."
+
+"The Malay has succeeded!" exclaimed the Indian, listening to a singular
+kind of hoot, which sounded through the profound silence of the night and
+of the woods.
+
+"Yes, it is the scream of the vulture seizing its prey," said the <DW64>,
+listening in his turn; "it is also the signal of our brethren, after they
+have seized their prey."
+
+In a few minutes, the Malay appeared at the door of the hut. He had wound
+around him a broad length of cotton, adorned with bright  stripes.
+
+"Well," said the <DW64>, anxiously; "have you succeeded?"
+
+"Djalma must bear all his life the mark of the good work," said the
+Malay, proudly. "To reach him, I was forced to offer up to Bowanee a man
+who crossed my path--I have left his body under the brambles, near the
+ajoupa. But Djalma is marked with the sign. Mahal the Smuggler was the
+first to know it."
+
+"And Djalma did not awake?" said the Indian, confounded by the Malay's
+adroitness.
+
+"Had he awoke," replied the other, calmly, "I should have been a dead
+man--as I was charged to spare his life."
+
+"Because his life may be more useful to us than his death," said the
+half-caste. Then, addressing the Malay, he added: "Brother, in risking
+life for the good work, you have done to-day what we did yesterday, what
+we may do again to-morrow. This time, you obey; another you will
+command."
+
+"We all belong to Bowanee," answered the Malay. "What is there yet to
+do?--I am ready." Whilst he thus spoke, his face was turned towards the
+door of the hut; on a sudden, he said in a low voice: "Here is Djalma. He
+approaches the cabin. Mahal has not deceived us."
+
+"He must not see me yet," said Faringhea, retiring to an obscure corner
+of the cabin, and hiding himself under a mat; "try to persuade him. If he
+resists--I have my project."
+
+Hardly had Faringhea disappeared, saying these words, when Djalma arrived
+at the door of the hovel. At sight of those three personages with their
+forbidding aspect, Djalma started in surprise. But ignorant that these
+men belonged to the Phansegars, and knowing that, in a country where
+there are no inns, travellers often pass the night under a tent, or
+beneath the shelter of some ruins, he continued to advance towards them.
+After the first moment, he perceived by the complexion and the dress of
+one of these men, that he was an Indian, and he accosted him in the
+Hindoo language: "I thought to have found here a European--a Frenchman--"
+
+"The Frenchman is not yet come," replied the Indian; "but he will not be
+long."
+
+Guessing by Djalma's question the means which Mahal had employed to draw
+him into the snare, the Indian hoped to gain time by prolonging his
+error.
+
+"You knew this Frenchman?" asked Djalma of the Phansegar.
+
+"He appointed us to meet here, as he did you," answered the Indian.
+
+"For what?" inquired Djalma, more and more astonished.
+
+"You will know when he arrives."
+
+"General Simon told you to be at this place?"
+
+"Yes, General Simon," replied the Indian.
+
+There was a moment's pause, during which Djalma sought in vain to explain
+to himself this mysterious adventure. "And who are you?" asked he, with a
+look of suspicion; for the gloomy silence of the Phansegar's two
+companions, who stared fixedly at each other, began to give him some
+uneasiness.
+
+"We are yours, if you will be ours," answered the Indian.
+
+"I have no need of you--nor you of me."
+
+"Who knows?"
+
+"I know it."
+
+"You are deceived. The English killed your father, a king; made you a
+captive; proscribed you, you have lost all your possessions."
+
+At this cruel reminder, the countenance of Djalma darkened. He started,
+and a bitter smile curled his lip. The Phansegar continued:
+
+"Your father was just and brave--beloved by his subjects--they called him
+'Father of the Generous,' and he was well named. Will you leave his death
+unavenged? Will the hate, which gnaws at your heart, be without fruit?"
+
+"My father died with arms in his hand. I revenged his death on the
+English whom I killed in war. He, who has since been a father to me, and
+who fought also in the same cause, told me, that it would now be madness
+to attempt to recover my territory from the English. When they gave me my
+liberty, I swore never again to set foot in India--and I keep the oaths I
+make."
+
+"Those who despoiled you, who took you captive, who killed your
+father--were men. Are there not other men, on whom you can avenge
+yourself! Let your hate fall upon them!"
+
+"You, who speak thus of men, are not a man!"
+
+"I, and those who resemble me, are more than men. We are, to the rest of
+the human race, what the bold hunter is to the wild beasts, which they
+run down in the forest. Will you be, like us, more than a man? Will you
+glut surely, largely, safely--the hate which devours your heart, for all
+the evil done you?"
+
+"Your words become more and more obscure: I have no hatred in my heart,"
+said Djalma. "When an enemy is worthy of me, I fight with him; when he is
+unworthy, I despise him. So that I have no hate--either for brave men or
+cowards."
+
+"Treachery!" cried the <DW64> on a sudden, pointing with rapid gesture to
+the door, for Djalma and the Indian had now withdrawn a little from it,
+and were standing in one corner of the hovel.
+
+At the shout of the <DW64>, Faringhea, who had not been perceived by
+Djalma, threw off abruptly the mat which covered him, drew his crease,
+started up like a tiger, and with one bound was out of the cabin. Then,
+seeing a body of soldiers advancing cautiously in a circle, he dealt one
+of them a mortal stroke, threw down two others, and disappeared in the
+midst of the ruins. All this passed so instantaneously, that, when Djalma
+turned round, to ascertain the cause of the <DW64>'s cry of alarm,
+Faringhea had already disappeared.
+
+The muskets of several soldiers, crowding to the door, were immediately
+pointed at Djalma and the three Stranglers, whilst others went in pursuit
+of Faringhea. The <DW64>, the Malay, and the Indian, seeing the
+impossibility of resistance, exchanged a few rapid words, and offered
+their hands to the cords, with which some of the soldiers had provided
+themselves.
+
+The Dutch captain, who commanded the squad, entered the cabin at this
+moment. "And this other one?" said he, pointing out Djalma to the
+soldiers, who were occupied in binding the three Phansegars.
+
+"Each in his turn, captain!" said an old sergeant. "We come to him next."
+
+Djalma had remained petrified with surprise, not understanding what was
+passing round him; but, when he saw the sergeant and two soldiers
+approach with ropes to bind him, he repulsed them with violent
+indignation, and rushed towards the door where stood the officer. The
+soldiers, who had supposed that Djalma would submit to his fate with the
+same impassibility as his companions, were astounded by this resistance,
+and recoiled some paces, being struck in spite of themselves, with the
+noble and dignified air of the son of Kadja-sing.
+
+"Why would you bind me like these men?" cried Djalma, addressing himself
+in Hindostanee to the officer, who understood that language from his long
+service in the Dutch colonies.
+
+"Why would we bind you, wretch?--because you form part of this band of
+assassins. What?" added the officer in Dutch, speaking to the soldiers,
+"are you afraid of him?--Tie the cord tight about his wrists; there will
+soon be another about his neck."
+
+"You are mistaken," said Djalma, with a dignity and calmness which
+astonished the officer; "I have hardly been in this place a quarter of an
+hour--I do not know these men. I came here to meet a Frenchman."
+
+"Not a Phansegar like them?--Who will believe the falsehood?"
+
+"Them!" cried Djalma, with so natural a movement and expression of
+horror, that with a sign the officer stopped the soldiers, who were again
+advancing to bind the son of Kadja-sing; "these men form part of that
+horrible band of murderers! and you accuse me of being their
+accomplice!--Oh, in this case, sir! I am perfectly at ease," said the
+young man, with a smile of disdain.
+
+"It will not be sufficient to say that you are tranquil," replied the
+officer; "thanks to their confessions, we now know by what mysterious
+signs to recognize the Thugs."
+
+"I repeat, sir, that I hold these murderers in the greatest horror, and
+that I came here--"
+
+The <DW64>, interrupting Djalma, said to the officer with a ferocious joy:
+"You have hit it; the sons of the good work do know each other by marks
+tattooed on their skin. For us, the hour has come--we give our necks to
+the cord. Often enough have we twined it round the necks of those who
+served not with us the good work. Now, look at our arms, and look at the
+arms of this youth!"
+
+The officer, misinterpreting the words of the <DW64>, said to Djalma: "It
+is quite clear, that if, as this <DW64> tells us, you do not bear on your
+arm the mysterious symbol--(we are going to assure ourselves of the
+fact), and if you can explain your presence here in a satisfactory
+manner, you may be at liberty within two hours."
+
+"You do not understand me," said the <DW64> to the officer; "Prince Djalma
+is one of us, for he bears on his left arm the name of Bowanee."
+
+"Yes! he is like us, a son of Kale!" added the Malay.
+
+"He is like us, a Phansegar," said the Indian.
+
+The three men, irritated at the horror which Djalma had manifested on
+learning that they were Phansegars, took a savage pride in making it
+believed that the son of Kadja-sing belonged to their frightful
+association.
+
+"What have you to answer?" said the officer to Djalma. The latter again
+gave a look of disdainful pity, raised with his right hand his long, wide
+left sleeve, and displayed his naked arm.
+
+"What audacity!" cried the officer, for on the inner part of the fore
+arm, a little below the bend, the name of the Bowanee, in bright red
+Hindoo characters, was distinctly visible. The officer ran to the Malay,
+and uncovered his arm; he saw the same word, the same signs. Not yet
+satisfied, he assured himself that the <DW64> and the Indian were likewise
+so marked.
+
+"Wretch!" cried he, turning furiously towards Djalma; "you inspire even
+more horror than your accomplices. Bind him like a cowardly assassin,"
+added he to the soldiers; "like a cowardly assassin, who lies upon the
+brink of the grave, for his execution will not be long delayed."
+
+Struck with stupor, Djalma, who for some moments had kept his eye riveted
+on the fatal mark, was unable to pronounce a word, or make the least
+movement: his powers of thought seemed to fail him, in presence of this
+incomprehensible fact.
+
+"Would you dare deny this sign?" said the officer to him, with
+indignation.
+
+"I cannot deny what I see--what is," said Djalma, quite overcome.
+
+"It is lucky that you confess at last," replied the officer. "Soldiers,
+keep watch over him and his accomplices--you answer for them."
+
+Almost believing himself the sport of some wild dream. Djalma offered no
+resistance, but allowed himself to be bound and removed with mechanical
+passiveness. The officer, with part of his soldiers, hoped still to
+discover Faringhea amongst the ruins; but his search was vain, and, after
+spending an hour in fruitless endeavors, he set out for Batavia, where
+the escort of the prisoners had arrived before him.
+
+Some hours after these events, M. Joshua van Dael thus finished his long
+despatch, addressed to M. Rodin, of Paris:
+
+"Circumstances were such, that I could not act otherwise; and, taking all
+into consideration, it is a very small evil for a great good. Three
+murderers are delivered over to justice, and the temporary arrest of
+Djalma will only serve to make his innocence shine forth with redoubled
+luster.
+
+"Already this morning I went to the governor, to protest in favor of our
+young prince. 'As it was through me,' I said, 'that those three great
+criminals fell into the hands of the authorities, let them at least show
+me some gratitude, by doing everything to render clear as day the
+innocence of Prince Djalma, so interesting by reason of his misfortunes
+and noble qualities. Most certainly,' I added, 'when I came yesterday to
+inform the governor, that the Phansegars would be found assembled in the
+ruins of Tchandi, I was far from anticipating that any one would confound
+with those wretches the adopted son of General Simon, an excellent man,
+with whom I have had for some time the most honorable relations. We must,
+then, at any cost, discover the inconceivable mystery that has placed
+Djalma in this dangerous position;' and, I continued, 'so convinced am I
+of his innocence, that, for his own sake, I would not ask for any favor
+on his behalf. He will have sufficient courage and dignity to wait
+patiently in prison for the day of justice.' In all this, you see, I
+spoke nothing but the truth, and had not to reproach myself with the
+least deception, for nobody in the world is more convinced than I am of
+Djalma's innocence.
+
+"The governor answered me as I expected, that morally he felt as certain
+as I did of the innocence of the young prince, and would treat him with
+all possible consideration; but that it was necessary for justice to have
+its course, because it would be the only way of demonstrating the
+falsehood of the accusation, and discovering by what unaccountable
+fatality that mysterious sign was tattooed upon Djalma's arm.
+
+"Mahal the Smuggler, who alone could enlighten justice on this subject,
+will in another hour have quitted Batavia, to go on board the 'Ruyter,'
+which will take him to Egypt; for he has a note from me to the captain,
+to certify that he is the person for whom I engaged and paid the passage.
+At the same time, he will be the bearer of this long despatch, for the
+'Ruyter' is to sail in an hour, and the last letter-bag for Europe was
+made up yesterday evening. But I wished to see the governor this morning,
+before closing the present.
+
+"Thus, then, is Prince Djalma enforced detained for a month, and, this
+opportunity of the 'Ruyter' once lost, it is materially impossible that
+the young Indian can be in France by the 13th of next February. You see,
+therefore, that, even as you ordered, so have I acted according to the
+means at my disposal--considering only the end which justifies them--for
+you tell me a great interest of the society is concerned.
+
+"In your hands, I have been what we all ought to be in the hands of our
+superiors--a mere instrument: since, for the greater glory of God, we
+become corpses with regard to the will.[7] Men may deny our unity and
+power, and the times appear opposed to us; but circumstances only change;
+we are ever the same.
+
+"Obedience and courage, secrecy and patience, craft and audacity, union
+and devotion--these become us, who have the world for our country, our
+brethren for family, Rome for our Queen!
+
+                       "J. V."
+
+About ten o'clock in the morning, Mahal the Smuggler set out with this
+despatch (sealed) in his possession, to board the "Ruyter." An hour
+later, the dead body of this same Mahal, strangled by Thuggee, lay
+concealed beneath some reeds on the edge of a desert strand, whither he
+had gone to take boat to join the vessel.
+
+When at a subsequent period, after the departure of the steamship, they
+found the corpse of the smuggler, M. Joshua sought in vain for the
+voluminous packet, which he had entrusted to his care. Neither was there
+any trace of the note which Mahal was to have delivered to the captain of
+the "Ruyter," in order to be received as passenger.
+
+Finally, the searches and bushwhacking ordered throughout the country for
+the purpose of discovering Faringhea, were of no avail. The dangerous
+chief of the Stranglers was never seen again in Java.
+
+[7] It is known that the doctrine of passive and absolute obedience, the
+main-spring of the Society of Jesus, is summed up in those terrible words
+of the dying Loyola: "Every member of the Order shall be, in the hands of
+his superiors, even as a corpse (Perinde ac Cadaver)."--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+M. RODIN.
+
+Three months have elapsed since Djalma was thrown into Batavia Prison
+accused of belonging to the murderous gang of Megpunnas. The following
+scene takes place in France, at the commencement of the month of
+February, 1832, in Cardoville Manor House, an old feudal habitation
+standing upon the tall cliffs of Picardy, not far from Saint Valery, a
+dangerous coast on which almost every year many ships are totally
+wrecked, being driven on shore by the northwesters, which render the
+navigation of the Channel so perilous.
+
+From the interior of the Castle is heard the howling of a violent
+tempest, which has arisen during the night; a frequent formidable noise,
+like the discharge of artillery, thunders in the distance, and is
+repeated by the echoes of the shore; it is the sea breaking with fury
+against the high rocks which are overlooked by the ancient Manor House.
+
+It is about seven o'clock in the morning. Daylight is not yet visible
+through the windows of a large room situated on the ground-floor. In this
+apartment, in which a lamp is burning, a woman of about sixty years of
+age, with a simple and honest countenance, dressed as a rich farmer's
+wife of Picardy, is already occupied with her needle-work,
+notwithstanding the early hour. Close by, the husband of this woman,
+about the same age as herself, is seated at a large table, sorting and
+putting up in bags divers samples of wheat and oats. The face of this
+white-haired man is intelligent and open, announcing good sense and
+honesty, enlivened by a touch of rustic humor; he wears a shooting-jacket
+of green cloth, and long gaiters of tan- leather, which half
+conceal his black velveteen breeches.
+
+The terrible storm which rages without renders still more agreeable the
+picture of this peaceful interior. A rousing fire burns in a broad
+chimney-place faced with white marble, and throws its joyous light on the
+carefully polished floor; nothing can be more cheerful than the old
+fashioned chintz hangings and curtains with red Chinese figures upon a
+white ground, and the panels over the door painted with pastoral scenes
+in the style of Watteau. A clock of Sevres china, and rosewood furniture
+inlaid with green--quaint and portly furniture, twisted into all sorts of
+grotesque shapes--complete the decorations of this apartment.
+
+Out-doors, the gale continued to howl furiously, and sometimes a gust of
+wind would rush down the chimney, or shake the fastenings of the windows.
+The man who was occupied in sorting the samples of grain was M. Dupont,
+bailiff of Cardoville manor.
+
+"Holy Virgin!" said his wife; "what dreadful weather, my dear! This M.
+Rodin, who is to come here this morning, as the Princess de Saint
+Dizier's steward announced to us, picked out a very bad day for it."
+
+"Why, in truth, I have rarely heard such a hurricane. If M. Rodin has
+never seen the sea in its fury, he may feast his eyes to-day with the
+sight."
+
+"What can it be that brings this M. Rodin, my dear?"
+
+"Faith! I know nothing about it. The steward tells me in his letter to
+show M. Rodin the greatest attention, and to obey him as if he were my
+master. It will be for him to explain himself, and for me to execute his
+orders, since he comes on the part of the princess."
+
+"By rights he should come from Mademoiselle Adrienne, as the land belongs
+to her since the death of the duke her father."
+
+"Yes; but the princess being aunt to the young lady, her steward manages
+Mademoiselle Adrienne's affairs--so whether one or the other, it amounts
+to the same thing."
+
+"May be M. Rodin means to buy the estate. Though, to be sure, that stout
+lady who came from Paris last week on purpose to see the chateau appeared
+to have a great wish for it."
+
+At these words the bailiff began to laugh with a sly look.
+
+"What is there to laugh at, Dupont?" asked his wife, a very good
+creature, but not famous for intelligence or penetration.
+
+"I laugh," answered Dupont, "to think of the face and figure of that
+enormous woman: with such a look, who the devil would call themselves
+Madame de la Sainte-Colombe--Mrs. Holy Dove? A pretty saint, and a pretty
+dove, truly! She is round as a hogshead, with the voice of a town-crier;
+has gray moustachios like an old grenadier, and without her knowing it, I
+heard her say to her servant: 'Stir your stumps, my hearty!'--and yet she
+calls herself Sainte-Colombe!"
+
+"How hard on her you are, Dupont; a body don't choose one's name. And, if
+she has a beard, it is not the lady's fault."
+
+"No--but it is her fault to call herself Sainte-Colombe. Do you imagine
+it her true name? Ah, my poor Catherine, you are yet very green in some
+things."
+
+"While you, my poor Dupont, are well read in slander! This lady seems
+very respectable. The first thing she asked for on arriving was the
+chapel of the Castle, of which she had heard speak. She even said that
+she would make some embellishments in it; and, when I told her we had no
+church in this little place, she appeared quite vexed not to have a
+curate in the village."
+
+"Oh, to be sure! that's the first thought of your upstarts--to play the
+great lady of the parish, like your titled people."
+
+"Madame de la Sainte-Colombe need not play the great lady, because she is
+one."
+
+"She! a great lady? Oh, lor'!"
+
+"Yes--only see how she was dressed, in scarlet gown, and violet gloves
+like a bishop's; and, when she took off her bonnet, she had a diamond
+band round her head-dress of false, light hair, and diamond ear-drops as
+large as my thumb, and diamond rings on every finger! None of your
+tuppenny beauties would wear so many diamonds in the middle of the day."
+
+"You are a pretty judge!"
+
+"That is not all."
+
+"Do you mean to say there's more?"
+
+"She talked of nothing but dukes, and marquises, and counts, and very
+rich gentlemen, who visit at her house, and are her most intimate
+friends; and then, when she saw the summer house in the park, half-burnt
+by the Prussians, which our late master never rebuilt, she asked, 'What
+are those ruins there?' and I answered: 'Madame, it was in the time of
+the Allies that the pavilion was burnt.'--'Oh, my clear,' cried she; 'our
+allies, good, dear allies! they and the Restoration began my fortune!' So
+you see, Dupont, I said to myself directly: 'She was no doubt one of the
+noble women who fled abroad--'"
+
+"Madame de la Sainte-Colombe!" cried the bailiff, laughing heartily. "Oh,
+my poor, poor wife!"
+
+"Oh, it is all very well; but because you have been three years at Paris,
+don't think yourself a conjurer!"
+
+"Catherine, let's drop it: you will make me say some folly, and there are
+certain things which dear, good creatures like you need never know."
+
+"I cannot tell what you are driving at, only try to be less
+slanderous--for, after all, should Madame de la Sainte-Colombe buy the
+estate, will you be sorry to remain as her bailiff, eh?"
+
+"Not I--for we are getting old, my good Catherine; we have lived here
+twenty years, and we have been too honest to provide for our old days by
+pilfering--and truly, at our age, it would be hard to seek another place,
+which perhaps we should not find. What I regret is, that Mademoiselle
+Adrienne should not keep the land; it seems that she wished to sell it,
+against the will of the princess."
+
+"Good gracious, Dupont! is it not very extraordinary that Mademoiselle
+Adrienne should have the disposal of her large fortune so early in life?"
+
+"Faith! simple enough. Our young lady, having no father or mother, is
+mistress of her property, besides having a famous little will of her own.
+Dost remember, ten years ago, when the count brought her down here one
+summer?--what an imp of mischief! and then what eyes! eh?--how they
+sparkled, even then!"
+
+"It is true that Mademoiselle Adrienne had in her look--an expression--a
+very uncommon expression for her age."
+
+"If she has kept what her witching, luring face promised, she must be
+very pretty by this time, notwithstanding the peculiar color of her
+hair--for, between ourselves, if she had been a tradesman's daughter,
+instead of a young lady of high birth, they would have called it red."
+
+"There again! more slander."
+
+"What! against Mademoiselle Adrienne? Heaven forbid--I always thought
+that she would be as good as pretty, and it is not speaking ill of her to
+say she has red hair. On the contrary, it always appears to me so fine,
+so bright, so sunny, and to suit so well her snowy complexion and black
+eyes, that in truth I would not have had it other than it was; and I am
+sure, that now this very color of her hair, which would be a blemish in
+any one else, must only add to the charm of Mademoiselle Adrienne's face.
+She must have such a sweet vixen look!"
+
+"Oh! to be candid, she really was a vixen--always running about the park,
+aggravating her governess, climbing the trees--in fact, playing all
+manner of naughty tricks."
+
+"I grant you, Mademoiselle Adrienne was a chip of the old block; but then
+what wit, what engaging ways, and above all, what a good heart!"
+
+"Yes--that she certainly had. Once I remember she gave her shawl and her
+new merino frock to a poor little beggar girl, and came back to the house
+in her petticoat, and bare arms."
+
+"Oh, an excellent heart--but headstrong--terribly headstrong!"
+
+"Yes--that she was; and 'tis likely to finish badly, for it seems that
+she does things at Paris--oh! such things--"
+
+"What things?"
+
+"Oh, my dear; I can hardly venture--"
+
+"Fell, but what are they?"
+
+"Why," said the worthy dame, with a sort of embarrassment and confusion,
+which showed how much she was shocked by such enormities, "they say, that
+Mademoiselle Adrienne never sets foot in a church, but lives in a kind of
+heathen temple in her aunt's garden, where she has masked women to dress
+her up like a goddess, and scratches them very often, because she gets
+tipsy--without mentioning, that every night she plays on a hunting horn
+of massive gold--all which causes the utmost grief and despair to her
+poor aunt the princess."
+
+Here the bailiff burst into a fit of laughter, which interrupted his
+wife.
+
+"Now tell me," said he, when this first access of hilarity was over,
+"where did you get these fine stories about Mademoiselle Adrienne?"
+
+"From Rene's wife, who went to Paris to look for a child to nurse; she
+called at Saint-Dizier House, to see Madame Grivois, her godmother.--Now
+Madame Grivois is first bedchamber woman to the princess--and she it was
+who told her all this--and surely she ought to know, being in the house."
+
+"Yes, a fine piece of goods that Grivois! once she was a regular bad 'un,
+but now she professes to be as over-nice as her mistress; like master
+like man, they say. The princess herself, who is now so stiff and
+starched, knew how to carry on a lively game in her time. Fifteen years
+ago, she was no such prude: do you remember that handsome colonel of
+hussars, who was in garrison at Abbeville? an exiled noble who had served
+in Russia, whom the Bourbons gave a regiment on the Restoration?"
+
+"Yes, yes--I remember him; but you are really too backbiting."
+
+"Not a bit--I only speak the truth. The colonel spent his whole time
+here, and every one said he was very warm with this same princess, who is
+now such a saint. Oh! those were the jolly times. Every evening, some new
+entertainment at the chateau. What a fellow that colonel was, to set
+things going; how well he could act a play!--I remember--"
+
+The bailiff was unable to proceed. A stout maid-servant, wearing the
+costume and cap of Picardy, entered in haste, and thus addressed her
+mistress: "Madame, there is a person here that wants to speak to master;
+he has come in the postmaster's calash from Saint-Valery, and he says
+that he is M. Rodin."
+
+"M. Rodin?" said the bailiff rising. "Show him in directly!"
+
+A moment after, M. Rodin made his appearance. According to his custom, he
+was dressed even more than plainly. With an air of great humility, he
+saluted the bailiff and his wife, and at a sign from her husband, the
+latter withdrew. The cadaverous countenance of M. Rodin, his almost
+invisible lips, his little reptile eyes, half concealed by their flabby
+lids, and the sordid style of his dress, rendered his general aspect far
+from prepossessing; yet this man knew how, when it was necessary, to
+affect, with diabolical art, so much sincerity and good-nature--his words
+were so affectionate and subtly penetrating--that the disagreeable
+feeling of repugnance, which the first sight of him generally inspired,
+wore off little by little, and he almost always finished by involving his
+dupe or victim in the tortuous windings of an eloquence as pliant as it
+was honeyed and perfidious; for ugliness and evil have their fascination,
+as well as what is good and fair.
+
+The honest bailiff looked at this man with surprise, when he thought of
+the pressing recommendation of the steward of the Princess de Saint
+Dizier; he had expected to see quite another sort of personage, and,
+hardly able to dissemble his astonishment, he said to him: "Is it to M.
+Rodin that I have the honor to speak?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and here is another letter from the steward of the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier."
+
+"Pray, sir, draw near the fire, whilst I just see what is in this letter.
+The weather is so bad," continued the bailiff, obligingly, "may I not
+offer you some refreshment?"
+
+"A thousand thanks, my dear sir; I am off again in an hour."
+
+Whilst M. Dupont read, M. Rodin threw inquisitive glances round the
+chamber; like a man of skill and experience, he had frequently drawn just
+and useful inductions from those little appearances, which, revealing a
+taste or habit, give at the same time some notion of a character; on this
+occasion, however, his curiosity was at fault.
+
+"Very good, sir," said the bailiff, when he had finished reading; "the
+steward renews his recommendation, and tells me to attend implicitly to
+your commands."
+
+"Well, sir, they will amount to very little, and I shall not trouble you
+long."
+
+"It will be no trouble, but an honor."
+
+"Nay, I know how much your time must be occupied, for, as soon as one
+enters this chateau, one is struck with the good order and perfect
+keeping of everything in it--which proves, my dear sir, what excellent
+care you take of it."
+
+"Oh, sir, you flatter me."
+
+"Flatter you?--a poor old man like myself has something else to think of.
+But to come to business: there is a room here which is called the Green
+Chamber?"
+
+"Yes, sir; the room which the late Count-Duke de Cardoville used for a
+study."
+
+"You will have the goodness to take me there."
+
+"Unfortunately, it is not in my power to do so. After the death of the
+Count-Duke, and when the seals were removed, a number of papers were shut
+up in a cabinet in that room, and the lawyers took the keys with them to
+Paris."
+
+"Here are those keys," said M. Rodin, showing to the bailiff a large and
+a small key tied together.
+
+"Oh, sir! that is different. You come to look for papers?"
+
+"Yes--for certain papers--and also far a small mahogany casket, with
+silver clasps--do you happen to know it?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I have often seen it on the count's writing-table. It must be
+in the large, lacquered cabinet, of which you have the key."
+
+"You will conduct me to this chamber, as authorized by the Princess de
+Saint-Dizier?"
+
+"Yes, sir; the princess continues in good health?"
+
+"Perfectly so. She lives altogether above worldly things."
+
+"And Mademoiselle Adrienne?"
+
+"Alas, my dear sir!" said M. Rodin, with a sigh of deep contrition and
+grief.
+
+"Good heaven, sir! has any calamity happened to Mademoiselle Adrienne?"
+
+"In what sense do you mean it?"
+
+"Is she ill?"
+
+"No, no--she is, unfortunately, as well as she is beautiful."
+
+"Unfortunately!" cried the bailiff, in surprise.
+
+"Alas, yes! for when beauty, youth, and health are joined to an evil
+spirit of revolt and perversity--to a character which certainly has not
+its equal upon earth--it would be far better to be deprived of those
+dangerous advantages, which only become so many causes of perdition. But
+I conjure you, my dear sir, let us talk of something else: this subject
+is too painful," said M. Rodin, with a voice of deep emotion, lifting the
+tip of his little finger to the corner of his right eye, as if to stop a
+rising tear.
+
+The bailiff did not see the tear, but he saw the gesture, and he was
+struck with the change in M. Rodin's voice. He answered him, therefore,
+with much sympathy: "Pardon my indiscretion, sir; I really did not
+know--"
+
+"It is I who should ask pardon for this involuntary display of
+feeling--tears are so rare with old men--but if you had seen, as I have,
+the despair of that excellent princess, whose only fault has been too
+much kindness, too much weakness, with regard to her niece--by which she
+has encouraged her--but, once more, let us talk of something else, my
+dear sir!"
+
+After a moment's pause, during which M. Rodin seemed to recover from his
+emotion, he said to Dupont: "One part of my mission, my dear sir--that
+which relates to the Green Chamber--I have now told you; but there is yet
+another. Before coming to it, however, I must remind you of a
+circumstance you have perhaps forgotten--namely, that some fifteen or
+sixteen years ago, the Marquis d'Aigrigny, then colonel of the hussars in
+garrison at Abbeville, spent some time in this house."
+
+"Oh, sir! what a dashing officer was there! It was only just now, that I
+was talking about him to my wife. He was the life of the house!--how well
+he could perform plays--particularly the character of a scapegrace. In
+the Two Edmonds, for instance, he would make you die with laughing, in
+that part of a drunken soldier--and then, with what a charming voice he
+sang Joconde, sir--better than they could sing it at Paris!"
+
+Rodin, having listened complacently to the bailiff, said to him: "You
+doubtless know that, after a fierce duel he had with a furious
+Bonapartist, one General Simon, the Marquis d'Aigrigny (whose private
+secretary I have now the honor to be) left the world for the church."
+
+"No, sir! is it possible? That fine officer!"
+
+"That fine officer--brave, noble, rich, esteemed, and
+flattered--abandoned all those advantages for the sorry black gown; and,
+notwithstanding his name, position, high connections, his reputation as a
+great preacher, he is still what he was fourteen years ago--a plain
+abbe--whilst so many, who have neither his merit nor his virtues, are
+archbishops and cardinals."
+
+M. Rodin expressed himself with so much goodness, with such an air of
+conviction, and the facts he cited appeared to be so incontestable, that
+M. Dupont could not help exclaiming: "Well, sir, that is splendid
+conduct!"
+
+"Splendid? Oh, no!" said M. Rodin, with an inimitable expression of
+simplicity; "it is quite a matter of course when one has a heart like M.
+d'Aigrigny's. But amongst all his good qualities, he has particularly
+that of never forgetting worthy people--people of integrity, honor,
+conscience--and therefore, my dear M. Dupont, he has not forgotten you."
+
+"What, the most noble marquis deigns to remember--"
+
+"Three days ago, I received a letter from him, in which he mentions your
+name."
+
+"Is he then at Paris?"
+
+"He will be there soon, if not there now. He went to Italy about three
+months ago, and, during his absence, he received a very sad piece of
+news--the death of his mother, who was passing the autumn on one of the
+estates of the Princess de Saint-Dizier."
+
+"Oh, indeed! I was not aware of it."
+
+"Yes, it was a cruel grief to him; but we must all resign ourselves to
+the will of Providence!"
+
+"And with regard to what subject did the marquis do me the honor to
+mention my name?"
+
+"I am going to tell you. First of all, you must know that this house is
+sold. The bill of sale was signed the day before my departure from
+Paris."
+
+"Oh, sir! that renews all my uneasiness."
+
+"Pray, why?"
+
+"I am afraid that the new proprietors may not choose to keep me as their
+bailiff."
+
+"Now see what a lucky chance! It is just on that subject that I am going
+to speak to you."
+
+"Is it possible?"
+
+"Certainly. Knowing the interest which the marquis feels for you, I am
+particularly desirous that you should keep this place, and I will do all
+in my power to serve you, if--"
+
+"Ah, sir!" cried Dupont, interrupting Rodin; "what gratitude do I not owe
+you! It is Heaven that sends you to me!'
+
+"Now, my dear sir, you flatter me in your turn; but I ought to tell you,
+that I'm obliged to annex a small condition to my support."
+
+"Oh, by all means! Only name it, sir--name it!"
+
+"The person who is about to inhabit this mansion, is an old lady in every
+way worthy of veneration; Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is the name of this
+respectable--"
+
+"What, sir?" said the bailiff, interrupting Rodin; "Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe the lady who has bought us out?"
+
+"Do you know her?"
+
+"Yes, sir, she came last week to see the estate. My wife persists that
+she is a great lady; but--between ourselves--judging by certain words
+that I heard her speak--"
+
+"You are full of penetration, my dear M. Dupont. Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe is far from being a great lady. I believe she was neither more
+nor less than a milliner, under one of the wooden porticoes of the Palais
+Royal. You see, that I deal openly with you."
+
+"And she boasted of all the noblemen, French and foreign, who used to
+visit her!"
+
+"No doubt, they came to buy bonnets for their wives! However, the fact
+is, that, having gained a large fortune and, after being in youth and
+middle age--indifferent--alas! more than indifferent to the salvation of
+her soul--Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is now in a likely way to
+experience grace--which renders her, as I told you, worthy of veneration,
+because nothing is so respectable as a sincere repentance--always
+providing it to be lasting. Now to make the good work sure and effectual,
+we shall need your assistance, my dear M. Dupont."
+
+"Mine, sir! what can I do in it?"
+
+"A great deal; and I will explain to you how. There is no church in this
+village, which stands at an equal distance from either of two parishes.
+Madame de la Sainte-Colombe, wishing to make choice of one of the two
+clergymen, will naturally apply to you and Madame Dupont, who have long
+lived in these parts, for information respecting them."
+
+"Oh! in that case the choice will soon be made. The incumbent of
+Danicourt is one of the best of men."
+
+"Now that is precisely what you must not say to Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"You must, on the contrary, much praise, without ceasing, the curate of
+Roiville, the other parish, so as to decide this good lady to trust
+herself to his care."
+
+"And why, sir, to him rather than to the other?"
+
+"Why?--because, if you and Madame Dupont succeed in persuading Madame de
+la Sainte-Colombe to make the choice I wish, you will be certain to keep
+your place as bailiff. I give you my word of it, and what I promise I
+perform."
+
+"I do not doubt, sir, that you have this power," said Dupont, convinced
+by Rodin's manner, and the authority of his words; "but I should like to
+know--"
+
+"One word more," said Rodin, interrupting him; "I will deal openly with
+you, and tell you why I insist on the preference which I beg you to
+support. I should be grieved if you saw in all this the shadow of an
+intrigue. It is only for the purpose of doing a good action. The curate
+of Roiville, for whom I ask your influence, is a man for whom M.
+d'Aigrigny feels a deep interest. Though very poor, he has to support an
+aged mother. Now, if he had the spiritual care of Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe, he would do more good than any one else, because he is full of
+zeal and patience; and then it is clear he would reap some little
+advantages, by which his old mother might profit--there you see is the
+secret of this mighty scheme. When I knew that this lady was disposed to
+buy an estate in the neighborhood of our friend's parish, I wrote about
+it to the marquis; and he, remembering you, desired me to ask you to
+render him this small service, which, as you see, will not remain without
+a recompense. For I tell you once more, and I will prove it, that I have
+the power to keep you in your place as bailiff."
+
+"Well, sir," replied Dupont, after a moment's reflection, "you are so
+frank and obliging, that I will imitate your sincerity. In the same
+degree that the curate of Danicourt is respected and loved in this
+country, the curate of Roiville, whom you wish me to prefer to him, is
+dreaded for his intolerance--and, moreover--"
+
+"Well, and what more?"
+
+"Why, then, they say--"
+
+"Come, what do they say?"
+
+"They say--he is a Jesuit."
+
+Upon these words, M. Rodin burst into so hearty a laugh that the bailiff
+was quite struck dumb with amazement--for the countenance of M. Rodin
+took a singular expression when he laughed. "A Jesuit!" he repeated, with
+redoubled hilarity; "a Jesuit!--Now really, my dear M. Dupont, for a man
+of sense, experience, and intelligence, how can you believe such idle
+stories?--A Jesuit--are there such people as Jesuits?--in our time, above
+all, can you believe such romance of the Jacobins, hobgoblins of the old
+freedom lovers?--Come, come; I wager, you have read about them in the
+Constitutionnel!"
+
+"And yet, sir, they say--"
+
+"Good heavens! what will they not say?--But wise men, prudent men like
+you, do not meddle with what is said--they manage their own little
+matters, without doing injury to any one, and they never sacrifice, for
+the sake of nonsense, a good place, which secures them a comfortable
+provision for the rest of their days. I tell you frankly, however much I
+may regret it, that should you not succeed in getting the preference for
+my man, you will not remain bailiff here.
+
+"But, sir," said poor Dupont, "it will not be my fault, if this lady,
+hearing a great deal in praise of the other curate, should prefer him to
+your friend."
+
+"Ah! but if, on the other hand, persons who have long lived in the
+neighborhood--persons worthy of confidence, whom she will see every
+day--tell Madame de la Sainte-Colombe a great deal of good of my friend,
+and a great deal of harm of the other curate, she will prefer the former,
+and you will continue bailiff."
+
+"But, sir--that would be calumny!" cried Dupont.
+
+"Pshaw, my dear M. Dupont!" said Rodin, with an air of sorrowful and
+affectionate reproach, "how can you think me capable of giving you evil
+counsel?--I was only making a supposition. You wish to remain bailiff on
+this estate. I offer you the certainty of doing so--it is for you to
+consider and decide."
+
+"But, sir--"
+
+"One word more--or rather one more condition--as important as the other.
+Unfortunately, we have seen clergymen take advantage of the age and
+weakness of their penitents, unfairly to benefit either themselves or
+others: I believe our protege incapable of any such baseness--but, in
+order to discharge my responsibility--and yours also, as you will have
+contributed to his appointment--I must request that you will write to me
+twice a week, giving the most exact detail of all that you have remarked
+in the character, habits, connections, pursuits, of Madame de la Sainte
+Colombe--for the influence of a confessor, you see, reveals itself in the
+whole conduct of life, and I should wish to be fully edified by the
+proceedings of my friend, without his being aware of it--or, if anything
+blameable were to strike you, I should be immediately informed of it by
+this weekly correspondence."
+
+"But, sir--that would be to act as a spy?" exclaimed the unfortunate
+bailiff.
+
+"Now, my dear M. Dupont! how can you thus brand the sweetest, most
+wholesome of human desires--mutual confidence?--I ask of you nothing
+else--I ask of you to write to me confidentially the details of all that
+goes on here. On these two conditions, inseparable one from the other,
+you remain bailiff; otherwise, I shall be forced, with grief and regret,
+to recommend some one else to Madame de la Sainte-Colombe."
+
+"I beg you, sir," said Dupont, with emotion, "Be generous without any
+conditions!--I and my wife have only this place to give us bread, and we
+are too old to find another. Do not expose our probity of forty years'
+standing to be tempted by the fear of want, which is so bad a
+counsellor!"
+
+"My dear M. Dupont, you are really a great child: you must reflect upon
+this, and give me your answer in the course of a week."
+
+"Oh, sir! I implore you--" The conversation was here interrupted by a
+loud report, which was almost instantaneously repeated by the echoes of
+the cliffs. "What is that?" said M. Rodin. Hardly had he spoken, when the
+same noise was again heard more distinctly than before.
+
+"It is the sound of cannon," cried Dupont, rising; "no doubt a ship in
+distress, or signaling for a pilot."
+
+"My dear," said the bailiffs wife, entering abruptly, "from the terrace,
+we can see a steamer and a large ship nearly dismasted--they are drifting
+right upon the shore--the ship is firing minute gulls--it will be lost."
+
+"Oh, it is terrible!" cried the bailiff, taking his hat and preparing to
+go out, "to look on at a shipwreck, and be able to do nothing!"
+
+"Can no help be given to these vessels?" asked M. Rodin.
+
+"If they are driven upon the reefs, no human power can save them; since
+the last equinox two ships have been lost on this coast."
+
+"Lost with all on board?--Oh, very frightful," said M. Rodin.
+
+"In such a storm, there is but little chance for the crew; no matter,"
+said the bailiff, addressing his wife, "I will run down to the rocks with
+the people of the farm, and try to save some of them, poor
+creatures!--Light large fires in several rooms--get ready linen, clothes,
+cordials--I scarcely dare hope to save any, but we must do our best. Will
+you come with me, M. Rodin?"
+
+"I should think it a duty, if I could be at all useful, but I am too old
+and feeble to be of any service," said M. Rodin, who was by no means
+anxious to encounter the storm. "Your good lady will be kind enough to
+show me the Green Chamber, and when I have found the articles I require,
+I will set out immediately for Paris, for I am in great haste."
+
+"Very well, sir. Catherine will show you. Ring the big bell," said the
+bailiff to his servant; "let all the people of the farm meet me at the
+foot of the cliff, with ropes and levers."
+
+"Yes, my dear," replied Catherine; "but do not expose yourself."
+
+"Kiss me--it will bring me luck," said the bailiff; and he started at a
+full run, crying: "Quick! quick; by this time not a plank may remain of
+the vessels."
+
+"My dear madam," said Rodin, always impassible, "will you be obliging
+enough to show me the Green Chamber?"
+
+"Please to follow me, sir," answered Catherine, drying her tears--for she
+trembled on account of her husband, whose courage she well knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+THE TEMPEST
+
+The sea is raging. Mountainous waves of dark green, marbled with white
+foam, stand out, in high, deep undulations, from the broad streak of red
+light, which extends along the horizon. Above are piled heavy masses of
+black and sulphurous vapor, whilst a few lighter clouds of a reddish
+gray, driven by the violence of the wind, rush across the murky sky.
+
+The pale winter sun, before he quite disappears in the great clouds,
+behind which he is slowly mounting, casts here and there some oblique
+rays upon the troubled sea, and gilds the transparent crest of some of
+the tallest waves. A band of snow-white foam boils and rages as far as
+the eye can reach, along the line of the reefs that bristle on this
+dangerous coast.
+
+Half-way up a rugged promontory, which juts pretty far into the sea,
+rises Cardoville Castle; a ray of the sun glitters upon its windows; its
+brick walls and pointed roofs of slate are visible in the midst of this
+sky loaded with vapors.
+
+A large, disabled ship, with mere shreds of sail still fluttering from
+the stumps of broken masts, drives dead upon the coast. Now she rolls her
+monstrous hull upon the waves--now plunges into their trough. A flash is
+seen, followed by a dull sound, scarcely perceptible in the midst of the
+roar of the tempest. That gun is the last signal of distress from this
+lost vessel, which is fast forging on the breakers.
+
+At the same moment, a steamer, with its long plume of black smoke, is
+working her way from east to west, making every effort to keep at a
+distance from the shore, leaving the breakers on her left. The dismasted
+ship, drifting towards the rocks, at the mercy of the wind and tide, must
+some time pass right ahead of the steamer.
+
+Suddenly, the rush of a heavy sea laid the steamer upon her side; the
+enormous wave broke furiously on her deck; in a second the chimney was
+carried away, the paddle box stove in, one of the wheels rendered
+useless. A second white-cap, following the first, again struck the vessel
+amidships, and so increased the damage that, no longer answering to the
+helm, she also drifted towards the shore, in the same direction as the
+ship. But the latter, though further from the breakers, presented a
+greater surface to the wind and sea, and so gained upon the steamer in
+swiftness that a collision between the two vessels became imminent--a new
+clanger added to all the horrors of the now certain wreck.
+
+The ship was an English vessel, the "Black Eagle," homeward bound from
+Alexandria, with passengers, who arriving from India and Java, via the
+Red Sea, had disembarked at the Isthmus of Suez, from on board the
+steamship "Ruyter." The "Black Eagle," quitting the Straits of Gibraltar,
+had gone to touch at the Azores. She headed thence for Portsmouth, when
+she was overtaken in the Channel by the northwester. The steamer was the
+"William Tell," coming from Germany, by way of the Elbe, and bound, in
+the last place, for Hamburg to Havre.
+
+These two vessels, the sport of enormous rollers, driven along by tide
+and tempest, were now rushing upon the breakers with frightful speed. The
+deck of each offered a terrible spectacle; the loss of crew and
+passengers appeared almost certain, for before them a tremendous sea
+broke on jagged rocks, at the foot of a perpendicular cliff.
+
+The captain of the "Black Eagle," standing on the poop, holding by the
+remnant of a spar, issued his last orders in this fearful extremity with
+courageous coolness. The smaller boats had been carried away by the
+waves; it was in vain to think of launching the long-boat; the only
+chance of escape in case the ship should not be immediately dashed to
+pieces on touching the rocks, was to establish a communication with the
+land by means of a life-line--almost the last resort for passing between
+the shore and a stranded vessel.
+
+The deck was covered with passengers, whose cries and terror augmented
+the general confusion. Some, struck with a kind of stupor, and clinging
+convulsively to the shrouds, awaited their doom in a state of stupid
+insensibility. Others wrung their hands in despair, or rolled upon the
+deck uttering horrible imprecations. Here, women knelt down to pray;
+there, others hid their faces in their hands, that they might not see the
+awful approach of death. A young mother, pale as a specter, holding her
+child clasped tightly to her bosom, went supplicating from sailor to
+sailor, and offering a purse full of gold and jewels to any one that
+would take charge of her son.
+
+These cries, and tears, and terror contrasted with the stern and silent
+resignation of the sailors. Knowing the imminence of the inevitable
+danger, some of them stripped themselves of part of their clothes,
+waiting for the moment to make a last effort, to dispute their lives with
+the fury of the waves; others renouncing all hope, prepared to meet death
+with stoical indifference.
+
+Here and there, touching or awful episodes rose in relief, if one may so
+express it, from this dark and gloomy background of despair.
+
+A young man of about eighteen or twenty, with shiny black hair, copper
+<DW52> complexion, and perfectly regular and handsome features,
+contemplated this scene of dismay and horror with that sad calmness
+peculiar to those who have often braved great perils; wrapped in a cloak,
+he leaned his back against the bulwarks, with his feet resting against
+one of the bulkheads. Suddenly, the unhappy mother, who, with her child
+in her arms, and gold in her hand, had in vain addressed herself to
+several of the mariners, to beg them to save her boy, perceiving the
+young man with the copper-<DW52> complexion, threw herself on her knees
+before him, and lifted her child towards him with a burst of
+inexpressible agony. The young man took it, mournfully shook his head,
+and pointed to the furious waves--but, with a meaning gesture, he
+appeared to promise that he would at least try to save it. Then the young
+mother, in a mad transport of hope, seized the hand of the youth, and
+bathed it with her tears.
+
+Further on, another passenger of the "Black Eagle," seemed animated by
+sentiments of the most active pity. One would hardly have given him
+five-and-twenty years of age. His long, fair locks fell in curls on
+either side of his angelic countenance. He wore a black cassock and white
+neck-band. Applying himself to comfort the most desponding, he went from
+one to the other, and spoke to them pious words of hope and resignation;
+to hear him console some, and encourage others, in language full of
+unction, tenderness, and ineffable charity, one would have supposed him
+unaware or indifferent to the perils that he shared.
+
+On his fine, mild features, was impressed a calm and sacred intrepidity,
+a religious abstraction from every terrestrial thought; from time to
+time, he raised to heaven his large blue eyes, beaming with gratitude,
+love, and serenity, as if to thank God for having called him to one of
+those formidable trials in which the man of humanity and courage may
+devote himself for his brethren, and, if not able to rescue them at all,
+at least die with them, pointing to the sky. One might almost have taken
+him for an angel, sent down to render less cruel the strokes of
+inexorable fate.
+
+Strange contrast! not far from this young man's angelic beauty, there was
+another being, who resembled an evil spirit!
+
+Boldly mounted on what was left of the bowsprit, to which he held on by
+means of some remaining cordage, this man looked down upon the terrible
+scene that was passing on the deck. A grim, wild joy lighted up his
+countenance of a dead yellow, that tint peculiar to those who spring from
+the union of the white race with the East. He wore only a shirt and linen
+drawers; from his neck was suspended, by a cord, a cylindrical tin box,
+similar to that in which soldiers carry their leave of absence.
+
+The more the danger augmented, the nearer the ship came to the breakers,
+or to a collision with the steamer, which she was now rapidly
+approaching--a terrible collision, which would probably cause the two
+vessels to founder before even they touched the rocks--the more did the
+infernal joy of this passenger reveal itself in frightful transports. He
+seemed to long, with ferocious impatience, for the moment when the work
+of destruction should be accomplished. To see him thus feasting with
+avidity on all the agony, the terror, and the despair of those around
+him, one might have taken him for the apostle of one of those sanguinary
+deities, who, in barbarous countries, preside over murder and carnage.
+
+By this time the "Black Eagle," driven by the wind and waves, came so
+near the "William Tell" that the passengers on the deck of the nearly
+dismantled steamer were visible from the first-named vessel.
+
+These passengers were no longer numerous. The heavy sea, which stove in
+the paddle-box and broke one of the paddles, had also carried away nearly
+the whole of the bulwarks on that side; the waves, entering every instant
+by this large opening, swept the decks with irresistible violence, and
+every time bore away with them some fresh victims.
+
+Amongst the passengers, who seemed only to have escaped this danger to be
+hurled against the rocks, or crushed in the encounter of the two vessels,
+one group was especially worthy of the most tender and painful interest.
+Taking refuge abaft, a tall old man, with bald forehead and gray
+moustache, had lashed himself to a stanchion, by winding a piece of rope
+round his body, whilst he clasped in his arms, and held fast to his
+breast, two girls of fifteen or sixteen, half enveloped in a pelisse of
+reindeer-skin. A large, fallow, Siberian dog, dripping with water, and
+barking furiously at the waves, stood close to their feet.
+
+These girls, clasped in the arms of the old man, also pressed close to
+each other; but, far from being lost in terror, they raised their eyes to
+heaven, full of confidence and ingenuous hope, as though they expected to
+be saved by the intervention of some supernatural power.
+
+A frightful shriek of horror and despair, raised by the passengers of
+both vessels, was heard suddenly above the roar of the tempest. At the
+moment when, plunging deeply between two waves, the broadside of the
+steamer was turned towards the bows of the ship, the latter, lifted to a
+prodigious height on a mountain of water, remained, as it were, suspended
+over the "William Tell," during the second which preceded the shock of
+the two vessels.
+
+There are sights of so sublime a horror, that it is impossible to
+describe them. Yet, in the midst of these catastrophes, swift as thought,
+one catches sometimes a momentary glimpse of a picture, rapid and
+fleeting, as if illumined by a flash of lightning.
+
+Thus, when the "Black Eagle," poised aloft by the flood, was about to
+crash down upon the "William Tell," the young man with the angelic
+countenance and fair, waving locks bent over the prow of the ship, ready
+to cast himself into the sea to save some victim. Suddenly, he perceived
+on board the steamer, on which he looked down from the summit of the
+immense wave, the two girls extending their arms towards him in
+supplication. They appeared to recognize him, and gazed on him with a
+sort of ecstacy and religious homage!
+
+For a second, in spite of the horrors of the tempest, in spite of the
+approaching shipwreck, the looks of those three beings met. The features
+of the young man were expressive of sudden and profound pity; for the
+maidens with their hands clasped in prayer, seemed to invoke him as their
+expected Saviour. The old man, struck down by the fall of a plank, lay
+helpless on the deck. Soon all disappeared together.
+
+A fearful mass of water dashed the "Black Eagle" down upon the "William
+Tell," in the midst of a cloud of boiling foam. To the dreadful crash of
+the two great bodies of wood and iron, which splintering against one
+another, instantly foundered, one loud cry was added--a cry of agony and
+death--the cry of a hundred human creatures swallowed up at once by the
+waves!
+
+And then--nothing more was visible!
+
+A few moments after, the fragments of the two vessels appeared in the
+trough of the sea, and on the caps of the waves--with here and there the
+contracted arms, the livid and despairing faces of some unhappy wretches,
+striving to make their way to the reefs along the shore, at the risk of
+being crushed to death by the shock of the furious breakers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+THE SHIPWRECK.
+
+While the bailiff was gone to the sea-shore, to render help to those of
+the passengers who might escape from the inevitable shipwreck, M. Rodin,
+conducted by Catherine to the Green Chamber, had there found the articles
+that he was to take with him to Paris.
+
+After passing two hours in this apartment, very indifferent to the fate
+of the shipwrecked persons, which alone absorbed the attention of the
+inhabitants of the Castle, Rodin returned to the chamber commonly
+occupied by the bailiff, a room which opened upon a long gallery. When he
+entered it he found nobody there. Under his arm he held a casket, with
+silver fastenings, almost black from age, whilst one end of a large red
+morocco portfolio projected from the breast-pocket of his half buttoned
+great coat.
+
+Had the cold and livid countenance of the Abbe d'Aigrigny's secretary
+been able to express joy otherwise than by a sarcastic smile, his
+features would have been radiant with delight; for, just then, he was
+under the influence of the most agreeable thoughts. Having placed the
+casket upon a table, it was with marked satisfaction that he thus
+communed with himself:
+
+"All goes well. It was prudent to keep these papers here till this
+moment, for one must always be on guard against the diabolical spirit of
+that Adrienne de Cardoville, who appears to guess instinctively what it
+is impossible she should know. Fortunately, the time approaches when we
+shall have no more need to fear her. Her fate will be a cruel one; it
+must be so. Those proud, independent characters are at all times our
+natural enemies--they are so by their very essence--how much more when
+they show themselves peculiarly hurtful and dangerous! As for La Sainte
+Colombe, the bailiff is sure to act for us; between what the fool calls
+his conscience, and the dread of being at his age deprived of a
+livelihood, he will not hesitate. I wish to have him because he will
+serve us better than a stranger; his having been here twenty years will
+prevent all suspicion on the part of that dull and narrow-minded woman.
+Once in the hands of our man at Roiville, I will answer for the result.
+The course of all such gross and stupid women is traced beforehand: in
+their youth, they serve the devil; in riper years, they make others serve
+him; in their old age, they are horribly afraid of him; and this fear
+must continue till she has left us the Chateau de Cardoville, which, from
+its isolated position, will make us an excellent college. All then goes
+well. As for the affair of the medals, the 13th of February approaches,
+without news from Joshua--evidently, Prince Djalma is still kept prisoner
+by the English in the heart of India, or I must have received letters
+from Batavia. The daughters of General Simon will be detained at Leipsic
+for at least a month longer. All our foreign relations are in the best
+condition. As for our internal affairs--"
+
+ Here M. Rodin was interrupted in the current of his reflections by the
+entrance of Madame Dupont, who was zealously engaged in preparations to
+give assistance in case of need.
+
+"Now," said she to the servant, "light a fire in the next room; put this
+warm wine there; your master may be in every minute."
+
+"Well, my dear madam," said Rodin to her, "do they hope to save any of
+these poor creatures?"
+
+"Alas! I do not know, sir. My husband has been gone nearly two hours. I
+am terribly uneasy on his account. He is so courageous, so imprudent, if
+once he thinks he can be of any service."
+
+"Courageous even to imprudence," said Rodin to himself, impatiently; "I
+do not like that."
+
+"Well," resumed Catherine, "I have here at hand my hot linen, my
+cordials--heaven grant it may all be of use!"
+
+"We may at least hope so, my dear madam. I very much regretted that my
+age and weakness did not permit me to assist your excellent husband. I
+also regret not being able to wait for the issue of his exertions, and to
+wish him joy if successful--for I am unfortunately compelled to depart,
+my moments are precious. I shall be much obliged if you will have the
+carriage got ready."
+
+"Yes, Sir; I will see about it directly."
+
+"One word, my dear, good Madame Dupont. You are a woman of sense, and
+excellent judgment. Now I have put your husband in the way to keep, if he
+will, his situation as bailiff of the estate--"
+
+"Is it possible? What gratitude do we not owe you! Without this place
+what would become of us at our time of life?"
+
+"I have only saddled my promise with two conditions--mere trifles--he
+will explain all that to you."
+
+"Ah, sir! we shall regard you as our deliverer."
+
+"You are too good. Only, on two little conditions--"
+
+"If there were a hundred, sir we should gladly accept them. Think what we
+should be without this place--penniless--absolutely penniless!"
+
+"I reckon upon you then; for the interest of your husband, you will try
+to persuade him."
+
+"Missus! I say, missus! here's master come back," cried a servant,
+rushing into the chamber.
+
+"Has he many with him?"
+
+"No, missus; he is alone."
+
+"Alone! alone?"
+
+"Quite alone, missus."
+
+A few moments after, M. Dupont entered the room; his clothes were
+streaming with water; to keep his hat on in the midst of the storm, he
+had tied it down to his head by means of his cravat, which was knotted
+under his chin; his gaiters were covered with chalky stains.
+
+"There I have thee, my dear love!" cried his wife, tenderly embracing
+him. "I have been so uneasy!"
+
+"Up to the present moment--THREE SAVED."
+
+"God be praised, my dear M. Dupont!" said Rodin; "at least your efforts
+will not have been all in vain."
+
+"Three, only three?" said Catherine. "Gracious heaven!"
+
+"I only speak of those I saw myself, near the little creek of Goelands.
+Let us hope there may be more saved on other parts of the coast."
+
+"Yes, indeed; happily, the shore is not equally steep in all parts."
+
+"And where are these interesting sufferers, my dear sir?" asked Rodin,
+who could not avoid remaining a few instants longer.
+
+"They are mounting the cliffs, supported by our people. As they cannot
+walk very fast, I ran on before to console my wife, and to take the
+necessary measures for their reception. First of all, my dear, you must
+get ready some women's clothes."
+
+"There is then a woman amongst the persons saved?"
+
+"There are two girls--fifteen or sixteen years of age at the most--mere
+children--and so pretty!"
+
+"Poor little things!" said Rodin, with an affectation of interest.
+
+"The person to whom they owe their lives is with them. He is a real
+hero!"
+
+"A hero?"
+
+"Yes; only fancy--"
+
+"You can tell me all this by and by. Just slip on this dry warm
+dressing-gown, and take some of this hot wine. You are wet through."
+
+"I'll not refuse, for I am almost frozen to death. I was telling you that
+the person who saved these young girls was a hero; and certainly his
+courage was beyond anything one could have imagined. When I left here
+with the men of the farm, we descended the little winding path, and
+arrived at the foot of the cliff--near the little creek of Goelands,
+fortunately somewhat sheltered from the waves by five or six enormous
+masses of rock stretching out into the sea. Well, what should we find
+there? Why, the two young girls I spoke of, in a swoon, with their feet
+still in the water, and their bodies resting against a rock, as though
+they had been placed there by some one, after being withdrawn from the
+sea."
+
+"Dear children! it is quite touching!" said M. Rodin, raising, as usual,
+the tip of his little finger to the corner of his right eye, as though to
+dry a tear, which was very seldom visible.
+
+"What struck me was their great resemblance to each other," resumed the
+bailiff; "only one in the habit of seeing them could tell the
+difference."
+
+"Twin--sisters, no doubt," said Madame Dupont.
+
+"One of the poor things," continued the bailiff, "held between her
+clasped hands a little bronze medal, which was suspended from her neck by
+a chain of the same material."
+
+Rodin generally maintained a very stooping posture; but at these last
+words of the bailiff, he drew himself up suddenly, whilst a faint color
+spread itself over his livid cheeks. In any other person, these symptoms
+would have appeared of little consequence; but in Rodin, accustomed for
+long years to control and dissimulate his emotions, they announced no
+ordinary excitement. Approaching the bailiff, he said to him in a
+slightly agitated voice, but still with an air of indifference: "It was
+doubtless a pious relic. Did you see what was inscribed on this medal?"
+
+"No, sir; I did not think of it."
+
+"And the two young girls were like one another--very much like, you say?"
+
+"So like, that one would hardly know which was which. Probably they are
+orphans, for they are dressed in mourning."
+
+"Oh! dressed in mourning?" said M. Rodin, with another start.
+
+"Alas! orphans so young!" said Madame Dupont, wiping her eyes.
+
+"As they had fainted away, we carried them further on to a place where
+the sand was quite dry. While we were busy about this, we saw the head of
+a man appear from behind one of the rocks, which he was trying to climb,
+clinging to it by one hand; we ran to him, and luckily in the nick of
+time, for he was clean worn out, and fell exhausted into the arms of our
+men. It was of him I spoke when I talked of a hero; for, not content with
+having saved the two young girls by his admirable courage, he had
+attempted to rescue a third person, and had actually gone back amongst
+the rocks and breakers--but his strength failed him, and, without the aid
+of our men, he would certainly have been washed away from the ridge to
+which he clung."
+
+"He must indeed be a fine fellow!" said Catherine.
+
+Rodin, with his head bowed upon his breast, seemed quite indifferent to
+this conversation. The dismay and stupor, in which he had been plunged,
+only increased upon reflection. The two girls, who had just been saved,
+were fifteen years of age; were dressed in mourning; were so like, that
+one might be taken for the other; one of them wore round her neck a chain
+with a bronze medal; he could scarcely doubt that they were the daughters
+of General Simon. But how could those sisters be amongst the number of
+shipwrecked passengers? How could they have escaped from the prison at
+Leipsic? How did it happen, that he had not been informed of it? Could
+they have fled, or had they been set at liberty? How was it possible that
+he should not be apprise of such an event? But these secondary thoughts,
+which offered themselves in crowds to the mind of M. Rodin, were
+swallowed up in the one fact: "the daughters of General Simon are
+here!"--His plan, so laboriously laid, was thus entirely destroyed.
+
+"When I speak of the deliverer of these young girls," resumed the
+bailiff, addressing his wife, and without remarking M. Rodin's absence of
+mind, "you are expecting no doubt to see a Hercules?--well, he is
+altogether the reverse. He is almost a boy in look, with fair, sweet
+face, and light, curling locks. I left him a cloak to cover him, for he
+had nothing on but his shirt, black knee-breeches, and a pair of black
+worsted stockings--which struck me as singular."
+
+"Why, it was certainly not a sailor's dress."
+
+"Besides, though the ship was English, I believe my hero is a Frenchman,
+for he speaks our language as well as we do. What brought the tears to my
+eyes, was to see the young girls, when they came to themselves. As soon
+as they saw him, they threw themselves at his feet, and seemed to look up
+to him and thank him, as one would pray. Then they cast their eyes around
+them, as if in search of some other person, and, having exchanged a few
+words, they fell sobbing into each other's arms."
+
+"What a dreadful thing it is! How many poor creatures must have
+perished!"
+
+"When we quitted the rocks, the sea had already cast ashore seven dead
+bodies, besides fragments of the wrecks, and packages. I spoke to some of
+the coast-guard, and they will remain all day on the look-out; and if, as
+I hope, any more should escape with life, they are to be brought here.
+But surely that is the sound of voices!--yes, it is our shipwrecked
+guests!"
+
+The bailiff and his wife ran to the door of the room--that door, which
+opened on the long gallery--whilst Rodin, biting convulsively his flat
+nails, awaited with angry impatience the arrival of the strangers. A
+touching picture soon presented itself to his view.
+
+From the end of the dark some gallery, only lighted on one side by
+several windows, three persons, conducted by a peasant, advanced slowly.
+This group consisted of the two maidens, and the intrepid young man to
+whom they owed their lives. Rose and Blanche were on either side of their
+deliverer, who, walking with great difficulty, supported himself lightly
+on their arms.
+
+Though he was full twenty-five years of age, the juvenile countenance of
+this man made him appear younger. His long, fair hair, parted on the
+forehead, streamed wet and smooth over the collar of a large brown cloak,
+with which he had been covered. It would be difficult to describe the
+adorable expression of goodness in his pale, mild face, as pure as the
+most ideal creations of Raphael's pencil--for that divine artist alone
+could have caught the melancholy grace of those exquisite features, the
+serenity of that celestial look, from eyes limpid and blue as those of an
+archangel, or of a martyr ascended to the skies.
+
+Yes, of a martyr! for a blood-red halo already encircled that beauteous
+head. Piteous sight to see! just above his light eyebrows, and rendered
+still more visible by the effect of the cold, a narrow cicatrix, from a
+wound inflicted many months before, appeared to encompass his fair
+forehead with a purple band; and (still more sad!) his hands had been
+cruelly pierced by a crucifixion--his feet had suffered the same
+injury--and, if he now walked with so much difficulty, it was that his
+wounds had reopened, as he struggled over the sharp rocks.
+
+This young man was Gabriel, the priest attached to the foreign mission,
+the adopted son of Dagobert's wife. He was a priest and martyr--for, in
+our days, there are still martyrs, as in the time when the Caesars flung
+the early Christians to the lions and tigers of the circus.
+
+Yes, in our days, the children of the people--for it is almost always
+amongst them that heroic and disinterested devotion may still be
+found--the children of the people, led by an honorable conviction,
+because it is courageous and sincere, go to all parts of the world, to
+try and propagate their faith, and brave both torture and death with the
+most unpretending valor.
+
+How many of them, victims of some barbarous tribe, have perished, obscure
+and unknown, in the midst of the solitudes of the two worlds!--And for
+these humble soldiers of the cross, who have nothing but their faith and
+their intrepidity, there is never reserved on their return (and they
+seldom do return) the rich and sumptuous dignities of the church. Never
+does the purple or the mitre conceal their scarred brows and mutilated
+limbs; like the great majority of other soldiers, they die forgotten.[8]
+
+In their ingenuous gratitude, the daughters of General Simon, as soon as
+they recovered their senses after the shipwreck, and felt themselves able
+to ascend the cliffs, would not leave to any other person the care of
+sustaining the faltering steps of him who had rescued them from certain
+death.
+
+The black garments of Rose and Blanche streamed with water; their faces
+were deadly pale, and expressive of deep grief; the marks of recent tears
+were on their cheeks, and, with sad, downcast eyes, they trembled both
+from agitation and cold, as the agonizing thought recurred to them, that
+they should never again see Dagobert, their friend and guide; for it was
+to him that Gabriel had stretched forth a helping hand, to assist him to
+climb the rocks. Unfortunately the strength of both had failed, and the
+soldier had been carried away by a retreating wave.
+
+The sight of Gabriel was a fresh surprise for Rodin, who had retired on
+one side, in order to observe all; but this surprise was of so pleasant a
+nature, and he felt so much joy in beholding the missionary safe after
+such imminent peril, that the painful impression, caused by the view of
+General Simon's daughters, was a little softened. It must not be
+forgotten, that the presence of Gabriel in Paris, on the 13th of
+February, was essential to the success of Rodin's projects.
+
+The bailiff and his wife, who were greatly moved at sight of the orphans,
+approached them with eagerness. Just then a farm-boy entered the room,
+crying: "Sir! sir! good news--two more saved from the wreck!"
+
+"Blessing and praise to God for it!" said the missionary.
+
+"Where are they?" asked the bailiff, hastening towards the door.
+
+"There is one who can walk, and is following behind me with Justin; the
+other was wounded against the rocks, and they are carrying him on a
+litter made of branches."
+
+"I will run and have him placed in the room below," said the bailiff, as
+he went out. "Catherine, you can look to the young ladies."
+
+"And the shipwrecked man who can walk--where is he?" asked the bailiff's
+wife.
+
+"Here he is," said the peasant, pointing to some one who came rapidly
+along the gallery; "when he heard that the two young ladies were safe in
+the chateau--though he is old, and wounded in the head, he took such
+great strides, that it was all I could do to get here before him."
+
+Hardly had the peasant pronounced these words, when Rose and Blanche,
+springing up by a common impulse, flew to the door. They arrived there at
+the same moment as Dagobert.
+
+The soldier, unable to utter a syllable, fell on his knees at the
+threshold, and extended his arms to the daughters of General Simon; while
+Spoil-sport, running to them licked their hands.
+
+But the emotion was too much for Dagobert; and, when he had clasped the
+orphans in his arms, his head fell backward, and he would have sunk down
+altogether, but for the care of the peasants. In spite of the
+observations of the bailiff's wife, on their state of weakness and
+agitation, the two young girls insisted on accompanying Dagobert, who was
+carried fainting into an adjoining apartment.
+
+At sight of the soldier, Rodin's face was again violently contracted, for
+he had till then believed that the guide of General Simon's daughters was
+dead. The missionary, worn out with fatigue, was leaning upon a chair,
+and had not yet perceived Rodin.
+
+A new personage, a man with a dead yellow complexion, now entered the
+room, accompanied by another peasant, who pointed out Gabriel to him.
+This man, who had just borrowed a smock-frock and a pair of trousers,
+approached the missionary, and said to him in French but with a foreign
+accent: "Prince Djalma has just been brought in here. His first word was
+to ask for you."
+
+"What does that man say?" cried Rodin, in a voice of thunder; for, at the
+name of Djalma, he had sprung with one bound to Gabriel's side.
+
+"M. Rodin!" exclaimed the missionary, falling back in surprise.
+
+"M. Rodin," cried the other shipwrecked person; and from that moment, he
+kept his eye fixed on the correspondent of M. Van Dael.
+
+"You here, sir?" said Gabriel, approaching Rodin with an air of
+deference, not unmixed with fear.
+
+"What did that man say to you?" repeated Rodin, in an excited tone. "Did
+he not utter the name of Prince Djalma?"
+
+"Yes, sir; Prince Djalma was one of the passengers on board the English
+ship, which came from Alexandria, and in which we have just been wrecked.
+This vessel touched at the Azores, where I then was; the ship that
+brought me from Charlestown having been obliged to put in there, and
+being likely to remain for some time, on account of serious damage, I
+embarked on board the 'Black Eagle,' where I met Prince Djalma. We were
+bound to Portsmouth, and from thence my intention was to proceed to
+France."
+
+Rodin did not care to interrupt Gabriel. This new shock had completely
+paralyzed his thoughts. At length, like a man who catches at a last hope,
+which he knows beforehand to be vain, he said to Gabriel: "Can you tell
+me who this Prince Djalma is?"
+
+"A young man as good as brave--the son of an East Indian king,
+dispossessed of his territory by the English."
+
+Then, turning towards the other shipwrecked man, the missionary said to
+him with anxious interest: "How is the Prince? are his wounds dangerous?"
+
+"They are serious contusions, but they will not be mortal," answered the
+other.
+
+"Heaven be praised!" said the missionary, addressing Rodin; "here, you
+see, is another saved."
+
+"So much the better," observed Rodin, in a quick, imperious tone.
+
+"I will go see him," said Gabriel, submissively. "You have no orders to
+give me?"
+
+"Will you be able to leave this place in two or three hours,
+notwithstanding your fatigue?"
+
+"If it be necessary--yes."
+
+"It is necessary. You will go with me."
+
+Gabriel only bowed in reply, and Rodin sank confounded into a chair,
+while the missionary went out with the peasant. The man with the sallow
+complexion still lingered in a corner of the room, unperceived by Rodin.
+
+This man was Faringhea, the half-caste, one of the three chiefs of the
+Stranglers. Having escaped the pursuit of the soldiers in the ruins of
+Tchandi, he had killed Mahal the Smuggler, and robbed him of the
+despatches written by M. Joshua Van Dael to Rodin, as also of the letter
+by which the smuggler was to have been received as passenger on board the
+"Ruyter." When Faringhea left the hut in the ruins of Tchandi, he had not
+been seen by Djalma; and the latter, when he met him on shipboard, after
+his escape (which we shall explain by and by), not knowing that he
+belonged to the sect of Phansegars, treated him during the voyage as a
+fellow-countryman.
+
+Rodin, with his eye fixed and haggard, his countenance of a livid hue,
+biting his nails to the quick in silent rage, did not perceive the half
+caste, who quietly approached him and laying his hand familiarly on his
+shoulder, said to him: "Your name is Rodin?"
+
+"What now?" asked the other, starting, and raising his head abruptly.
+
+"Your name is Rodin?" repeated Faringhea.
+
+"Yes. What do you want?"
+
+"You live in the Rue du Milieu-des-Ursins, Paris?"
+
+"Yes. But, once more, what do you want?"
+
+"Nothing now, brother: hereafter, much!"
+
+And Faringhea, retiring, with slow steps, left Rodin alarmed at what had
+passed; for this man, who scarcely trembled at anything, had quailed
+before the dark look and grim visage of the Strangler.
+
+[8] We always remember with emotion the end of a letter written, two or
+three years ago, by one of these young and valiant missionaries, the son
+of poor parents in Beauce. He was writing to his mother from the heart of
+Japan, and thus concluded his letter: "Adieu, my dear mother! they say
+there is much danger where I am now sent to. Pray for me, and tell all
+our good neighbors that I think of them very often." These few words,
+addressed from the centre of Asia to poor peasants in a hamlet of France,
+are only the more touching from their very simplicity--E. S.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+THE DEPARTURE FOR PARIS.
+
+The most profound silence reigns throughout Cardoville House. The tempest
+has lulled by degrees, and nothing is heard from afar but the hoarse
+murmur of the waves, as they wash heavily the shore.
+
+Dagobert and the orphans have been lodged in warm and comfortable
+apartments on the first-floor of the chateau. Djalma, too severely hurt
+to be carried upstairs, has remained in a room below. At the moment of
+the shipwreck, a weeping mother had placed her child in his arms. He had
+failed in the attempt to snatch this unfortunate infant from certain
+death, but his generous devotion had hampered his movements, and when
+thrown upon the rocks, he was almost dashed to pieces. Faringhea, who has
+been able to convince him of his affection, remains to watch over him.
+
+Gabriel, after administering consolation to Djalma, has rescinded to the
+chamber allotted to him; faithful to the promise he made to Rodin, to be
+ready to set out in two hours, he has not gone to bed; but, having dried
+his clothes, he has fallen asleep in a large, high-backed arm-chair,
+placed in front of a bright coal-fire. His apartment is situated near
+those occupied by Dagobert and the two sisters.
+
+Spoil-sport, probably quite at his ease in so respectable a dwelling, has
+quitted the door of Rose and Blanche's chamber, to lie down and warm
+himself at the hearth, by the side of which the missionary is sleeping.
+There, with his nose resting on his outstretched paws, he enjoys a
+feeling of perfect comfort and repose, after so many perils by land and
+sea. We will not venture to affirm, that he thinks habitually of poor old
+Jovial; unless we recognize as a token of remembrance on his part, his
+irresistible propensity to bite all the white horses he has met with,
+ever since the death of his venerable companion, though before, he was
+the most inoffensive of dogs with regard to horses of every color.
+
+Presently one of the doors of the chamber opened, and the two sisters
+entered timidly. Awake for some minutes, they had risen and dressed
+themselves, feeling still some uneasiness with respect to Dagobert;
+though the bailiff's wife, after showing them to their room, had returned
+again to tell them that the village doctor found nothing serious in the
+hurt of the old soldier, still they hoped to meet some one belonging to
+the chateau, of whom they could make further inquiries about him.
+
+The high back of the old-fashioned arm-chair, in which Gabriel was
+sleeping, completely screened him from view; but the orphans, seeing
+their canine friend lying quietly at his feet, thought it was Dagobert
+reposing there, and hastened towards him on tip-toe. To their great
+astonishment, they saw Gabriel fast asleep, and stood still in confusion,
+not daring to advance or recede, for fear of waking him.
+
+The long, light hair of the missionary was no longer wet, and now curled
+naturally round his neck and shoulders; the paleness of his complexion
+was the more striking, from the contrast afforded by the deep purple of
+the damask covering of the arm-chair. His beautiful countenance expressed
+a profound melancholy, either caused by the influence of some painful
+dream, or else that he was in the habit of keeping down, when awake, some
+sad regrets, which revealed themselves without his knowledge when he was
+sleeping. Notwithstanding this appearance of bitter grief, his features
+preserved their character of angelic sweetness, and seemed endowed with
+an inexpressible charm, for nothing is more touching than suffering
+goodness. The two young girls cast down their eyes, blushed
+simultaneously, and exchanged anxious glances, as if to point out to each
+other the slumbering missionary.
+
+"He sleeps, sister," said Rose in a low voice.
+
+"So much the better," replied Blanche, also in a whisper, making a sign
+of caution; "we shall now be able to observe him well."
+
+"Yes, for we durst not do so, in coming from the sea hither."
+
+"Look! what a sweet countenance!"
+
+"He is just the same as we saw him in our dreams."
+
+"When he promised he would protect us."
+
+"And he has not failed us."
+
+"But here, at least, he is visible."
+
+"Not as it was in the prison at Leipsic, during that dark night."
+
+"And so--he has again rescued us."
+
+"Without him, we should have perished this morning."
+
+"And yet, sister, it seems to me, that in our dreams his countenance
+shone with light."
+
+"Yes, you know it dazzled us to look at him."
+
+"And then he had not so sad a mien."
+
+"That was because he came then from heaven; now he is upon earth."
+
+"But, sister, had he then that bright red scar round his forehead?"
+
+"Oh, no! we should have certainly perceived it."
+
+"And these other marks on his hands?"
+
+"If he has been wounded, how can he be an archangel?"
+
+"Why not, sister? If he received those wounds in preventing evil, or in
+helping the unfortunate, who, like us, were about to perish?"
+
+"You are right. If he did not run any danger for those he protects, it
+would be less noble."
+
+"What a pity that he does not open his eye!"
+
+"Their expression is so good, so tender!"
+
+"Why did he not speak of our mother, by the way?"
+
+"We were not alone with him; he did not like to do so."
+
+"But now we are alone."
+
+"If we were to pray to him to speak to us?"
+
+The orphans looked doubtingly at each other, with charming simplicity; a
+bright glow suffused their cheeks, and their young bosoms heaved gently
+beneath their black dresses.
+
+"You are right. Let us kneel down to him."
+
+"Oh, sister! our hearts beat so!" said Blanche, believing rightly, that
+Rose felt exactly as she did. "And yet it seems to do us good. It is as
+if some happiness were going to befall us."
+
+The sisters, having approached the arm-chair on tip-toe, knelt down with
+clasped hands, one to the right the other to the left of the young
+priest. It was a charming picture. Turning their lovely faces towards
+him, they said in a low whisper, with a soft, sweet voice, well suited to
+their youthful appearance: "Gabriel! speak to us of our mother!"
+
+On this appeal, the missionary gave a slight start, half-opened his eyes,
+and, still in a state of semi-consciousness, between sleep and waking,
+beheld those two beauteous faces turned towards him, and heard two gentle
+voices repeat his name.
+
+"Who calls me?" said he, rousing himself, and raising his head.
+
+"It is Blanche and Rose."
+
+It was now Gabriel's turn to blush, for he recognized the young girls he
+had saved. "Rise, my sisters!" said he to them; "you should kneel only
+unto God."
+
+The orphans obeyed, and were soon beside him, holding each other by the
+hand. "You know my name, it seems," said the missionary with a smile.
+
+"Oh, we have not forgotten it!"
+
+"Who told it you?"
+
+"Yourself."
+"I?"
+
+"Yes--when you came from our mother."
+
+"I, my sisters?" said the missionary, unable to comprehend the words of
+the orphans. "You are mistaken. I saw you to-day for the first time."
+
+"But in our dreams?"
+
+"Yes--do you not remember?--in our dreams."
+
+"In Germany--three months ago, for the first time. Look at us well."
+
+Gabriel could not help smiling at the simplicity of Rose and Blanche, who
+expected him to remember a dream of theirs; growing more and more
+perplexed, he repeated: "In your dreams?"
+
+"Certainly; when you gave us such good advice."
+
+"And when we were so sorrowful in prison, your words, which we
+remembered, consoled us, and gave us courage."
+
+"Was it not you, who delivered us from the prison at Leipsic, in that
+dark night, when we were not able to see you?"
+
+"I!"
+
+"What other but you would thus have come to our help, and to that of our
+old friend?"
+
+"We told him, that you would love him, because he loved us, although he
+would not believe in angels."
+
+"And this morning, during the tempest, we had hardly any fear."
+
+"Because we expected you."
+
+"This morning--yes, my sisters--it pleased heaven to send me to your
+assistance. I was coming from America, but I have never been in Leipsic.
+I could not, therefore, have let you out of prison. Tell me, my sisters,"
+added he, with a benevolent smile, "for whom do you take me?"
+
+"For a good angel whom we have seen already in dreams, sent by our mother
+from heaven to protect us."
+
+"My dear sisters, I am only a poor priest. It is by mere chance, no
+doubt, that I bear some resemblance to the angel you have seen in your
+dreams, and whom you could not see in any other manner--for angels are
+not visible to mortal eye.
+
+"Angels are not visible?" said the orphans, looking sorrowfully at each
+other.
+
+"No matter, my dear sisters," said Gabriel, taking them affectionately by
+the hand; "dreams, like everything else, come from above. Since the
+remembrance of your mother was mixed up with this dream, it is twice
+blessed."
+
+At this moment a door opened, and Dagobert made his appearance. Up to
+this time, the orphans, in their innocent ambition to be protected by an
+archangel, had quite forgotten the circumstance that Dagobert's wife had
+adopted a forsaken child, who was called Gabriel, and who was now a
+priest and missionary.
+
+The soldier, though obstinate in maintaining that his hurt was only a
+blank wound (to use a term of General Simon's), had allowed it to be
+carefully dressed by the surgeon of the village, and now wore a black
+bandage, which concealed one half of his forehead, and added to the
+natural grimness of his features. On entering the room, he was not a
+little surprised to see a stranger holding the hands of Rose and Blanche
+familiarly in his own. This surprise was natural, for Dagobert did not
+know that the missionary had saved the lives of the orphans, and had
+attempted to save his also.
+
+In the midst of the storm, tossed about by the waves, and vainly striving
+to cling to the rocks, the soldier had only seen Gabriel very
+imperfectly, at the moment when, having snatched the sisters from certain
+death, the young priest had fruitlessly endeavored to come to his aid.
+And when, after the shipwreck, Dagobert had found the orphans in safety
+beneath the roof of the Manor House, he fell, as we have already stated,
+into a swoon, caused by fatigue, emotion, and the effects of his
+wound--so that he had again no opportunity of observing the features of
+the missionary.
+
+The veteran began to frown from beneath his black bandage and thick, gray
+brows, at beholding a stranger so familiar with Rose and Blanche; but the
+sisters ran to throw themselves into his arms, and to cover him with
+filial caresses. His anger was soon dissipated by these marks of
+affection, though he continued, from time to time, to cast a suspicious
+glance at the missionary, who had risen from his seat, but whose
+countenance he could not well distinguish.
+
+"How is your wound?" asked Rose, anxiously. "They told us it was not
+dangerous."
+
+"Does it still pain?" added Blanche.
+
+"No, children; the surgeon of the village would bandage me up in this
+manner. If my head was carbonadoes with sabre cuts, I could not have more
+wrappings. They will take me for an old milksop; it is only a blank
+wound, and I have a good mind to--" And therewith the soldier raised one
+of his hands to the bandage.
+
+"Will you leave that alone?" cried Rose catching his arm. "How can you be
+so unreasonable--at your age?"
+
+"Well, well! don't scold! I will do what you wish, and keep it on." Then,
+drawing the sisters to one end of the room, he said to them in a low
+voice, whilst he looked at the young priest from the corner of his eye:
+"Who is that gentleman who was holding your hands when I came in? He has
+very much the look of a curate. You see, my children, you must be on your
+guard; because--"
+
+"He?" cried both sisters at once, turning towards Gabriel. "Without him,
+we should not now be here to kiss you."
+
+"What's that?" cried the soldier, suddenly drawing up his tall figure,
+and gazing full at the missionary.
+
+"It is our guardian angel," resumed Blanche.
+
+"Without him," said Rose, "we must have perished this morning in the
+shipwreck."
+
+"Ah! it is he, who--" Dagobert could say no more. With swelling heart,
+and tears in his eyes, he ran to the missionary, offered him both his
+hands, and exclaimed in a tone of gratitude impossible to describe: "Sir,
+I owe you the lives of these two children. I feel what a debt that
+service lays upon me. I will not say more--because it includes
+everything!"
+
+Then, as if struck with a sudden recollection, he cried: "Stop! when I
+was trying to cling to a rock, so as not to be carried away by the waves,
+was it not you that held out your hand to me? Yes--that light hair--that
+youthful countenance--yes--it was certainly you--now I am sure of it!"
+
+"Unhappily, sir, my strength failed me, and I had the anguish to see you
+fall back into the sea."
+
+"I can say nothing more in the way of thanks than what I have already
+said," answered Dagobert, with touching simplicity: "in preserving these
+children you have done more for me than if you had saved my own life. But
+what heart and courage!" added the soldier, with admiration; "and so
+young, with such a girlish look!"
+
+"And so," cried Blanche, joyfully, "our Gabriel came to your aid also?"
+
+"Gabriel!" said Dagobert interrupting Blanche, and addressing himself to
+the priest. "Is your name Gabriel?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Gabriel!" repeated the soldier, more and more surprised. "And a priest!"
+added he.
+
+"A priest of the foreign missions."
+
+"Who--who brought you up?" asked the soldier, with increasing
+astonishment.
+
+"An excellent and generous woman, whom I revere as the best of mothers:
+for she had pity on me, a deserted infant, and treated me ever as her
+son."
+
+"Frances Baudoin--was it not?" said the soldier, with deep emotion.
+
+"It was, sir," answered Gabriel, astonished in his turn. "But how do you
+know this?"
+
+"The wife of a soldier, eh?" continued Dagobert.
+
+"Yes, of a brave soldier--who, from the most admirable devotion, is even
+now passing his life in exile--far from his wife--far from his son, my
+dear brother--for I am proud to call him by that name--"
+
+"My Agricola!--my wife!--when did you leave them?"
+
+"What! is it possible! You the father of Agricola?--Oh! I knew not, until
+now," cried Gabriel, clasping his hands together, "I knew not all the
+gratitude that I owed to heaven!"
+
+"And my wife! my child!" resumed Dagobert, in a trembling voice; "how are
+they? have you news of them?"
+
+"The accounts I received, three months ago, were excellent."
+
+"No; it is too much," cried Dagobert; "it is too much!" The veteran was
+unable to proceed; his feelings stifled his words, and fell back
+exhausted in a chair.
+
+And now Rose and Blanche recalled to mind that portion of their father's
+letter which related to the child named Gabriel, whom the wife of
+Dagobert had adopted; then they also yielded to transports of innocent
+joy.
+
+"Our Gabriel is the same as yours--what happiness!" cried Rose.
+
+"Yes, my children! he belongs to you as well as to me. We have all our
+part in him." Then, addressing Gabriel, the soldier added with
+affectionate warmth: "Your hand, my brave boy! give me your hand!"
+
+"Oh, sir! you are too good to me."
+
+"Yes--that's it--thank me!--after all thou has done for us!"
+
+"Does my adopted mother know of your return?" asked Gabriel, anxious to
+escape from the praises of the soldier.
+
+"I wrote to her five months since, but said that I should come alone;
+there was a reason for it, which I will explain by and by. Does she still
+live in the Rue Brise-Miche? It was there Agricola was born."
+
+"She still lives there."
+
+"In that case, she must have received my letter. I wished to write to her
+from the prison at Leipsic, but it was impossible."
+
+"From prison! Have you just come out of prison?"
+
+"Yes; I come straight from Germany, by the Elbe and Hamburg, and I should
+be still at Leipsic, but for an event which the Devil must have had a
+hand in--a good sort of devil, though."
+
+"What do you mean? Pray explain to me."
+
+"That would be difficult, for I cannot explain it to myself. These little
+ladies," he added, pointing with a smile to Rose and Blanche, "pretended
+to know more about it than I did, and were continually repeating: 'It was
+the angel that came to our assistance, Dagobert--the good angel we told
+thee of--though you said you would rather have Spoil sport to defend
+us--'"
+
+"Gabriel, I am waiting for you," said a stern voice, which made the
+missionary start. They all turned round instantly, whilst the dog uttered
+a deep growl.
+
+It was Rodin. He stood in the doorway leading to the corridor. His
+features were calm and impassive, but he darted a rapid, piercing glance
+at the soldier and sisters.
+
+"Who is that man?" said Dagobert, very little prepossessed in favor of
+Rodin, whose countenance he found singularly repulsive. "What the
+mischief does he want?"
+
+"I must go with him," answered Gabriel, in a tone of sorrowful
+constraint. Then, turning to Rodin, he added: "A thousand pardons! I
+shall be ready in a moment."
+
+"What!" cried Dagobert, stupefied with amazement, "going the very instant
+we have just met? No, by my faith! you shall not go. I have too much to
+tell you, and to ask in return. We will make the journey together. It
+will be a real treat for me."
+
+"It is impossible. He is my superior, and I must obey him."
+
+"Your superior?--why, he's in citizen's dress."
+
+"He is not obliged to wear the ecclesiastical garb."
+
+"Rubbish! since he is not in uniform, and there is no provost-marshal in
+your troop, send him to the--"
+
+"Believe me, I would not hesitate a minute, if it were possible to
+remain."
+
+"I was right in disliking the phi of that man," muttered Dagobert between
+his teeth. Then he added, with an air of impatience and vexation: "Shall
+I tell him that he will much oblige us by marching off by himself?"
+
+"I beg you not to do so," said Gabriel; "it would be useless; I know my
+duty, and have no will but my superior's. As soon as you arrive in Paris,
+I will come and see you, as also my adopted mother, and my dear brother,
+Agricola."
+
+"Well--if it must be. I have been a soldier, and know what subordination
+is," said Dagobert, much annoyed. "One must put a good face on bad
+fortune. So, the day after to-morrow, in the Rue Brise-Miche, my boy; for
+they tell me I can be in Paris by to-morrow evening, and we set out
+almost immediately. But I say--there seems to be a strict discipline with
+you fellows!"
+
+"Yes, it is strict and severe," answered Gabriel, with a shudder, and a
+stifled sigh.
+
+"Come, shake hands--and let's say farewell for the present. After all,
+twenty-four hours will soon pass away."
+
+"Adieu! adieu!" replied the missionary, much moved, whilst he returned
+the friendly pressure of the veteran's hand.
+
+"Adieu, Gabriel!" added the orphans, sighing also, and with tears in
+their eyes.
+
+"Adieu, my sisters!" said Gabriel--and he left the room with Rodin, who
+had not lost a word or an incident of this scene.
+
+Two hours after, Dagobert and the orphans had quitted the Castle for
+Paris, not knowing that Djalma was left at Cardoville, being still too
+much injured to proceed on his journey. The half-caste, Faringhea,
+remained with the young prince, not wishing, he said, to desert a fellow
+countryman.
+
+We now conduct the reader to the Rue Brise-Miche, the residence of
+Dagobert's wife.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+DAGOBERT'S WIFE.
+
+The following scenes occur in Paris, on the morrow of the day when the
+shipwrecked travellers were received in Cardoville House.
+
+Nothing can be more gloomy than the aspect of the Rue Brise-Miche, one
+end of which leads into the Rue Saint-Merry, and the other into the
+little square of the Cloister, near the church. At this end, the street,
+or rather alley--for it is not more than eight feet wide--is shut in
+between immense black, muddy dilapidated walls, the excessive height of
+which excludes both air and light; hardly, during the longest days of the
+year, is the sun able to throw into it a few straggling beams; whilst,
+during the cold damps of winter, a chilling fog, which seems to penetrate
+everything, hangs constantly above the miry pavement of this species of
+oblong well.
+
+It was about eight o'clock in the evening; by the faint, reddish light of
+the street lamp, hardly visible through the haze, two men, stopping at
+the angle of one of those enormous walls, exchanged a few words together.
+
+"So," said one, "you understand all about it. You are to watch in the
+street, till you see them enter No. 5."
+
+"All right!" answered the other.
+
+"And when you see 'em enter so as to make quite sure of the game, go up
+to Frances Baudoin's room--"
+
+"Under the cloak of asking where the little humpbacked workwoman
+lives--the sister of that gay girl, the Queen of the Bacchanals."
+
+"Yes--and you must try and find out her address also--from her humpbacked
+sister, if possible--for it is very important. Women of her feather
+change their nests like birds, and we have lost track of her."
+
+"Make yourself easy; I will do my best with Hump, to learn where her
+sister hangs out."
+
+"And, to give you steam, I'll wait for you at the tavern opposite the
+Cloister, and we'll have a go of hot wine on your return."
+
+"I'll not refuse, for the night is deucedly cold."
+
+"Don't mention it! This morning the water friz on my sprinkling-brush,
+and I turned as stiff as a mummy in my chair at the church-door. Ah, my
+boy! a distributor of holy water is not always upon roses!"
+
+"Luckily, you have the pickings--"
+
+"Well, well--good luck to you! Don't forget the Fiver, the little passage
+next to the dyer's shop."
+
+"Yes, yes--all right!" and the two men separated.
+
+One proceeded to the Cloister Square; the other towards the further end
+of the street, where it led into the Rue Saint-Merry. This latter soon
+found the number of the house he sought--a tall, narrow building, having,
+like all the other houses in the street, a poor and wretched appearance.
+When he saw he was right, the man commenced walking backwards and
+forwards in front of the door of No. 5.
+
+If the exterior of these buildings was uninviting, the gloom and squalor
+of the interior cannot be described. The house No. 5 was, in a special
+degree, dirty and dilapidated. The water, which oozed from the wall,
+trickled down the dark and filthy staircase. On the second floor, a wisp
+of straw had been laid on the narrow landing-place, for wiping the feet
+on; but this straw, being now quite rotten, only served to augment the
+sickening odor, which arose from want of air, from damp, and from the
+putrid exhalations of the drains. The few openings, cut at rare intervals
+in the walls of the staircase, could hardly admit more than some faint
+rays of glimmering light.
+
+In this quarter, one of the most populous in Paris, such houses as these,
+poor, cheerless, and unhealthy, are generally inhabited by the working
+classes. The house in question was of the number. A dyer occupied the
+ground floor; the deleterious vapors arising from his vats added to the
+stench of the whole building. On the upper stories, several artisans
+lodged with their families, or carried on their different trades. Up four
+flights of stairs was the lodging of Frances Baudoin, wife of Dagobert.
+It consisted of one room, with a closet adjoining, and was now lighted by
+a single candle. Agricola occupied a garret in the roof.
+
+Old grayish paper, broken here and there by the cracks covered the crazy
+wall, against which rested the bed; scanty curtains, running upon an iron
+rod, concealed the windows; the brick floor, not polished, but often
+washed, had preserved its natural color. At one end of this room was a
+round iron stove, with a large pot for culinary purposes. On the wooden
+table, painted yellow, marbled with brown, stood a miniature house made
+of iron--a masterpiece of patience and skill, the work of Agricola
+Baudoin, Dagobert's son.
+
+A plaster crucifix hung up against the wall, surrounded by several
+branches of consecrated box-tree, and various images of saints, very
+coarsely , bore witness to the habits of the soldier's wife.
+Between the windows stood one of those old walnut-wood presses, curiously
+fashioned, and almost black with time; an old arm-chair, covered with
+green cotton velvet (Agricola's first present to his mother), a few rush
+bottomed chairs, and a worktable on which lay several bags of coarse,
+brown cloth, completed the furniture of this room, badly secured by a
+worm-eaten door. The adjoining closet contained a few kitchen and
+household utensils.
+
+Mean and poor as this interior may perhaps appear, it would not seem so
+to the greater number of artisans; for the bed was supplied with two
+mattresses, clean sheets, and a warm counterpane; the old-fashioned press
+contained linen; and, moreover, Dagobert's wife occupied all to herself a
+room as large as those in which numerous families, belonging to honest
+and laborious workmen, often live and sleep huddled together--only too
+happy if the boys and girls can have separate beds, or if the sheets and
+blankets are not pledged at the pawnbroker's.
+
+Frances Baudoin, seated beside the small stove, which, in the cold and
+damp weather, yielded but little warmth, was busied in preparing her son
+Agricola's evening meal.
+
+Dagobert's wife was about fifty years of age; she wore a close jacket of
+blue cotton, with white flowers on it, and a stuff petticoat; a white
+handkerchief was tied round her head, and fastened under the chin. Her
+countenance was pale and meagre, the features regular, and expressive of
+resignation and great kindness. It would have been difficult to find a
+better, a more courageous mother. With no resource but her labor, she had
+succeeded, by unwearied energy, in bringing up not only her own son
+Agricola, but also Gabriel, the poor deserted child, of whom, with
+admirable devotion, she had ventured to take charge.
+
+In her youth, she had, as it were, anticipated the strength of later
+life, by twelve years of incessant toil, rendered lucrative by the most
+violent exertions, and accompanied by such privations as made it almost
+suicidal. Then (for it was a time of splendid wages, compared to the
+present), by sleepless nights and constant labor, she contrived to earn
+about two shillings (fifty sous) a day, and with this she managed to
+educate her son and her adopted child.
+
+At the end of these twelve years, her health was ruined, and her strength
+nearly exhausted; but, at all events, her boys had wanted for nothing,
+and had received such an education as children of the people can obtain.
+About this time, M. Francois Hardy took Agricola as an apprentice, and
+Gabriel prepared to enter the priest's seminary, under the active
+patronage of M. Rodin, whose communications with the confessor of Frances
+Baudoin had become very frequent about the year 1820.
+
+This woman (whose piety had always been excessive) was one of those
+simple natures, endowed with extreme goodness, whose self-denial
+approaches to heroism, and who devote themselves in obscurity to a life
+of martyrdom--pure and heavenly minds, in whom the instincts of the heart
+supply the place of the intellect!
+
+The only defect, or rather the necessary consequence of this extreme
+simplicity of character, was the invincible determination she displayed
+in yielding to the commands of her confessor, to whose influence she had
+now for many years been accustomed to submit. She regarded this influence
+as most venerable and sacred; no mortal power, no human consideration,
+could have prevented her from obeying it. Did any dispute arise on the
+subject, nothing could move her on this point; she opposed to every
+argument a resistance entirely free from passion--mild as her
+disposition, calm as her conscience--but, like the latter, not to be
+shaken. In a word, Frances Baudoin was one of those pure, but
+uninstructed and credulous beings, who may sometimes, in skillful and
+dangerous hands, become, without knowing it, the instruments of much
+evil.
+
+For some time past, the bad state of her health, and particularly the
+increasing weakness of her sight, had condemned her to a forced repose;
+unable to work more than two or three hours a day, she consumed the rest
+of her time at church.
+
+Frances rose from her seat, pushed the coarse bags at which she had been
+working to the further end of the table, and proceeded to lay the cloth
+for her son's supper, with maternal care and solicitude. She took from
+the press a small leathern bag, containing an old silver cup, very much
+battered, and a fork and spoon, so worn and thin, that the latter cut
+like a knife. These, her only plate (the wedding present of Dagobert) she
+rubbed and polished as well as she was able, and laid by the side of her
+son's plate. They were the most precious of her possessions, not so much
+for what little intrinsic value might attach to them, as for the
+associations they recalled; and she had often shed bitter tears, when,
+under the pressure of illness or want of employment, she had been
+compelled to carry these sacred treasures to the pawnbroker's.
+
+Frances next took, from the lower shelf of the press, a bottle of water,
+and one of wine about three-quarters full, which she also placed near her
+son's plate; she then returned to the stove, to watch the cooking of the
+supper.
+
+Though Agricola was not much later than usual, the countenance of his
+mother expressed both uneasiness and grief; one might have seen, by the
+redness of her eyes, that she had been weeping a good deal. After long
+and painful uncertainty, the poor woman had just arrived at the
+conviction that her eyesight, which had been growing weaker and weaker,
+would soon be so much impaired as to prevent her working even the two or
+three hours a day which had lately been the extent of her labors.
+
+Originally an excellent hand at her needle, she had been obliged, as her
+eyesight gradually failed her, to abandon the finer for the coarser sorts
+of work, and her earnings had necessarily diminished in proportion; she
+had at length been reduced to the necessity of making those coarse bags
+for the army, which took about four yards of sewing, and were paid at the
+rate of two sous each, she having to find her own thread. This work,
+being very hard, she could at most complete three such bags in a day, and
+her gains thus amounted to threepence (six sous)!
+
+It makes one shudder to think of the great number of unhappy females,
+whose strength has been so much exhausted by privations, old age, or
+sickness, that all the labor of which they are capable, hardly suffices
+to bring them in daily this miserable pittance. Thus do their gains
+diminish in exact proportion to the increasing wants which age and
+infirmity must occasion.
+
+Happily, Frances had an efficient support in her son. A first-rate
+workman, profiting by the just scale of wages adopted by M. Hardy, his
+labor brought him from four to five shillings a day--more than double
+what was gained by the workmen of many other establishments. Admitting
+therefore that his mother were to gain nothing, he could easily maintain
+both her and himself.
+
+But the poor woman, so wonderfully economical that she denied herself
+even some of the necessaries of life, had of late become ruinously
+liberal on the score of the sacristy, since she had adopted the habit of
+visiting daily the parish church. Scarcely a day passed but she had
+masses sung, or tapers burnt, either for Dagobert, from whom she had been
+so long separated, or for the salvation of her son Agricola, whom she
+considered on the high-road to perdition. Agricola had so excellent a
+heart, so loved and revered his mother, and considered her actions in
+this respect inspired by so touching a sentiment, that he never
+complained when he saw a great part of his week's wages (which he paid
+regularly over to his mother every Saturday) disappear in pious forms.
+
+Yet now and then he ventured to remark to Frances, with as much respect
+as tenderness, that it pained him to see her enduring privations
+injurious at her age, because she preferred incurring these devotional
+expenses. But what answer could he make to this excellent mother, when
+she replied with tears: "My child, 'tis for the salvation of your father
+and yours too."
+
+To dispute the efficacy of masses, would have been venturing on a
+subject which Agricola, through respect for his mother's religious faith,
+never discussed. He contented himself, therefore, with seeing her
+dispense with comforts she might have enjoyed.
+
+A discreet tap was heard at the door. "Come in," said Frances. The person
+came in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+THE SISTER OF THE BACCHANAL QUEEN.
+
+The person who now entered was a girl of about eighteen, short, and very
+much deformed. Though not exactly a hunchback, her spine was curved; her
+breast was sunken, and her head deeply set in the shoulders. Her face was
+regular, but long, thin, very pale, and pitted with the small pox; yet it
+expressed great sweetness and melancholy. Her blue eyes beamed with
+kindness and intelligence. By a strange freak of nature, the handsomest
+woman would have been proud of the magnificent hair twisted in a coarse
+net at the back of her head. She held an old basket in her hand. Though
+miserably clad, the care and neatness of her dress revealed a powerful
+struggle with her poverty. Notwithstanding the cold, she wore a scanty
+frock made of print of an indefinable color, spotted with white; but it
+had been so often washed, that its primitive design and color had long
+since disappeared. In her resigned, yet suffering face, might be read a
+long familiarity with every form of suffering, every description of
+taunting. From her birth, ridicule had ever pursued her. We have said
+that she was very deformed, and she was vulgarly called "Mother Bunch."
+Indeed it was so usual to give her this grotesque name, which every
+moment reminded her of her infirmity, that Frances and Agricola, though
+they felt as much compassion as other people showed contempt for her,
+never called her, however, by any other name.
+
+Mother Bunch, as we shall therefore call her in future, was born in the
+house in which Dagobert's wife had resided for more than twenty years;
+and she had, as it were, been brought up with Agricola and Gabriel.
+
+There are wretches fatally doomed to misery. Mother Bunch had a very
+pretty sister, on whom Perrine Soliveau, their common mother, the widow
+of a ruined tradesman, had concentrated all her affection, while she
+treated her deformed child with contempt and unkindness. The latter would
+often come, weeping, to Frances, on this account, who tried to console
+her, and in the long evenings amused her by teaching her to read and sew.
+Accustomed to pity her by their mother's example, instead of imitating
+other children, who always taunted and sometimes even beat her, Agricola
+and Gabriel liked her, and used to protect and defend her.
+
+She was about fifteen, and her sister Cephyse was about seventeen, when
+their mother died, leaving them both in utter poverty. Cephyse was
+intelligent, active, clever, but different to her sister; she had the
+lively, alert, hoydenish character which requires air, exercise and
+pleasures--a good girl enough, but foolishly spoiled by her mother.
+Cephyse, listening at first to Frances's good advice, resigned herself to
+her lot; and, having learnt to sew, worked like her sister, for about a
+year. But, unable to endure any longer the bitter privations her
+insignificant earnings, notwithstanding her incessant toil, exposed her
+to--privations which often bordered on starvation--Cephyse, young,
+pretty, of warm temperament, and surrounded by brilliant offers and
+seductions--brilliant, indeed, for her, since they offered food to
+satisfy her hunger, shelter from the cold, and decent raiment, without
+being obliged to work fifteen hours a day in an obscure and unwholesome
+hovel--Cephyse listened to the vows of a young lawyer's clerk, who
+forsook her soon after. She formed a connection with another clerk, whom
+she (instructed by the examples set her), forsook in turn for a bagman,
+whom she afterwards cast off for other favorites. In a word, what with
+changing and being forsaken, Cephyse, in the course of one or two years,
+was the idol of a set of grisettes, students and clerks; and acquired
+such a reputation at the balls on the Hampstead Heaths of Paris, by her
+decision of character, original turn of mind, and unwearied ardor in all
+kinds of pleasures, and especially her wild, noisy gayety, that she was
+termed the Bacchanal Queen, and proved herself in every way worthy of
+this bewildering royalty.
+
+From that time poor Mother Bunch only heard of her sister at rare
+intervals. She still mourned for her, and continued to toil hard to gain
+her three-and-six a week. The unfortunate girl, having been taught sewing
+by Frances, made coarse shirts for the common people and the army. For
+these she received half-a-crown a dozen. They had to be hemmed, stitched,
+provided with collars and wristbands, buttons, and button holes; and at
+the most, when at work twelve and fifteen hours a day, she rarely
+succeeded in turning out more than fourteen or sixteen shirts a week--an
+excessive amount of toil that brought her in about three shillings and
+fourpence a week. And the case of this poor girl was neither accidental
+nor uncommon. And this, because the remuneration given for women's work
+is an example of revolting injustice and savage barbarism. They are paid
+not half as much as men who are employed at the needle: such as tailors,
+and makers of gloves, or waistcoats, etc.--no doubt because women can
+work as well as men--because they are more weak and delicate--and because
+their need may be twofold as great when they become mothers.
+
+Well, Mother Bunch fagged on, with three-and-four a week. That is to say,
+toiling hard for twelve or fifteen hours every day; she succeeded in
+keeping herself alive, in spite of exposure to hunger, cold, and
+poverty--so numerous were her privations. Privations? No! The word
+privation expresses but weakly that constant and terrible want of all
+that is necessary to preserve the existence God gives; namely, wholesome
+air and shelter, sufficient and nourishing food and warm clothing.
+Mortification would be a better word to describe that total want of all
+that is essentially vital, which a justly organized state of society
+ought--yes--ought necessarily to bestow on every active, honest workman
+and workwoman, since civilization has dispossessed them of all
+territorial right, and left them no other patrimony than their hands.
+
+The savage does not enjoy the advantage of civilization; but he has, at
+least, the beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, the fish of the
+sea, and the fruits of the earth, to feed him, and his native woods for
+shelter and for fuel. The civilized man, disinherited of these gifts,
+considering the rights of property as sacred, may, in return for his hard
+daily labor, which enriches his country, demand wages that will enable
+him to live in the enjoyment of health: nothing more, and nothing less.
+For is it living, to drag along on the extreme edge which separates life
+from the grave, and even there continually struggle against cold, hunger,
+and disease? And to show how far the mortification which society imposes
+thus inexorably on its millions of honest, industrious laborers (by its
+careless disregard of all the questions which concern the just
+remuneration of labor), may extend, we will describe how this poor girl
+contrived to live on three shillings and sixpence a week.
+
+Society, perhaps, may then feel its obligation to so many unfortunate
+wretches for supporting, with resignation, the horrible existence which
+leaves them just sufficient life to feel the worst pangs of humanity.
+Yes: to live at such a price is virtue! Yes, society thus organized,
+whether it tolerates or imposes so much misery, loses all right to blame
+the poor wretches who sell themselves not through debauchery, but because
+they are cold and famishing. This poor girl spent her wages as follows:
+
+    Six pounds of bread, second quality . . . . . . . .0 8 1/2
+    Four pails of water . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .0 2
+    Lard or dripping (butter being out of the question)0 5
+    Coarse salt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .0 0 3/4
+    A bushel of charcoal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .0 4
+    A quart of dried vegetables . . . . . . . . . . . .0 3
+    Three quarts of potatoes. . . . . . . . . . . . . .0 2
+    Dips. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .0 3 1/4
+    Thread and needles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .0 2 1/2
+                                                      ______
+                                                       2 7
+
+To save charcoal, Mother Bunch prepared soup only two or three times a
+week at most, on a stove that stood on the landing of the fourth story.
+On other days she ate it cold. There remained nine or ten pence a week
+for clothes and lodging. By rare good fortune, her situation was in one
+respect an exception to the lot of many others. Agricola, that he might
+not wound her delicacy, had come to a secret arrangement with the
+housekeeper, and hired a garret for her, just large enough to hold a
+small bed, a chair, and a table; for which the sempstress had to pay five
+shillings a year. But Agricola, in fulfilment of his agreement with the
+porter, paid the balance, to make up the actual rent of the garret, which
+was twelve and sixpence. The poor girl had thus about eighteenpence a
+month left for her other expenses. But many workwomen, whose position is
+less fortunate than hers, since they have neither home nor family, buy a
+piece of bread and some other food to keep them through the day; and at
+night patronize the "twopenny rope," one with another, in a wretched room
+containing five or six beds, some of which are always engaged by men, as
+male lodgers are by far the most abundant. Yes; and in spite of the
+disgust that a poor and virtuous girl must feel at this arrangement, she
+must submit to it; for a lodging-house keeper cannot have separate rooms
+for females. To furnish a room, however meanly, the poor workwoman must
+possess three or four shillings in ready money. But how save this sum,
+out of weekly earnings of a couple of florins, which are scarcely
+sufficient to keep her from starving, and are still less sufficient to
+clothe her? No! no! The poor wretch must resign herself to this repugnant
+cohabitation; and so, gradually, the instinct of modesty becomes
+weakened; the natural sentiment of chastity, that saved her from the "gay
+life," becomes extinct; vice appears to be the only means of improving
+her intolerable condition; she yields; and the first "man made of money,"
+who can afford a governess for his children, cries out against the
+depravity of the lower orders! And yet, painful as the condition of the
+working woman is, it is relatively fortunate. Should work fail her for
+one day, two days, what then? Should sickness come--sickness almost
+always occasioned by unwholesome food, want of fresh air, necessary
+attention, and good rest; sickness, often so enervating as to render work
+impossible; though not so dangerous as to procure the sufferer a bed in
+an hospital--what becomes of the hapless wretches then? The mind
+hesitates, and shrinks from dwelling on such gloomy pictures.
+
+This inadequacy of wages, one terrible source only of so many evils, and
+often of so many vices, is general, especially among women; and, again
+this is not private wretchedness, but the wretchedness which afflicts
+whole classes, the type of which we endeavor to develop in Mother Bunch.
+It exhibits the moral and physical condition of thousands of human
+creatures in Paris, obliged to subsist on a scanty four shillings a week.
+This poor workwoman, then, notwithstanding the advantages she unknowingly
+enjoyed through Agricola's generosity, lived very miserably; and her
+health, already shattered, was now wholly undermined by these constant
+hardships. Yet, with extreme delicacy, though ignorant of the little
+sacrifice already made for her by Agricola, Mother Bunch pretended she
+earned more than she really did, in order to avoid offers of service
+which it would have pained her to accept, because she knew the limited
+means of Frances and her son, and because it would have wounded her
+natural delicacy, rendered still more sensitive by so many sorrows and
+humiliations.
+
+But, singular as it may appear, this deformed body contained a loving and
+generous soul--a mind cultivated even to poetry; and let us add, that
+this was owing to the example of Agricola Baudoin, with whom she had been
+brought up, and who had naturally the gift. This poor girl was the first
+confidant to whom our young mechanic imparted his literary essays; and
+when he told her of the charm and extreme relief he found in poetic
+reverie, after a day of hard toil, the workwoman, gifted with strong
+natural intelligence, felt, in her turn, how great a resource this would
+be to her in her lonely and despised condition.
+
+One day, to Agricola's great surprise, who had just read some verses to
+her, the sewing-girl, with smiles and blushes, timidly communicated to
+him also a poetic composition. Her verses wanted rhythm and harmony,
+perhaps; but they were simple and affecting, as a non-envenomed complaint
+entrusted to a friendly hearer. From that day Agricola and she held
+frequent consultations; they gave each other mutual encouragement: but
+with this exception, no one else knew anything of the girl's poetical
+essays, whose mild timidity made her often pass for a person of weak
+intellect. This soul must have been great and beautiful, for in all her
+unlettered strains there was not a word of murmuring respecting her hard
+lot: her note was sad, but gentle--desponding, but resigned; it was
+especially the language of deep tenderness--of mournful sympathy--of
+angelic charity for all poor creatures consigned, like her, to bear the
+double burden of poverty and deformity. Yet she often expressed a sincere
+free-spoken admiration of beauty, free from all envy or bitterness; she
+admired beauty as she admired the sun. But, alas! many were the verses of
+hers that Agricola had never seen, and which he was never to see.
+
+The young mechanic, though not strictly handsome, had an open masculine
+face; was as courageous as kind; possessed a noble, glowing, generous
+heart, a superior mind, and a frank, pleasing gayety of spirits. The
+young girl, brought up with him, loved him as an unfortunate creature can
+love, who, dreading cruel ridicule, is obliged to hide her affection in
+the depths of her heart, and adopt reserve and deep dissimulation. She
+did not seek to combat her love; to what purpose should she do so? No one
+would ever know it. Her well known sisterly affection for Agricola
+explained the interest she took in all that concerned him; so that no one
+was surprised at the extreme grief of the young workwoman, when, in 1830,
+Agricola, after fighting intrepidly for the people's flag, was brought
+bleeding home to his mother. Dagobert's son, deceived, like others, on
+this point, had never suspected, and was destined never to suspect, this
+love for him.
+
+Such was the poorly-clad girl who entered the room in which Frances was
+preparing her son's supper.
+
+"Is it you, my poor love," said she; "I have not seen you since morning:
+have you been ill? Come and kiss me."
+
+The young girl kissed Agricola's mother, and replied: "I was very busy
+about some work, mother; I did not wish to lose a moment; I have only
+just finished it. I am going down to fetch some charcoal--do you want
+anything while I'm out?"
+
+"No, no, my child, thank you. But I am very uneasy. It is half-past
+eight, and Agricola is not come home." Then she added, after a sigh: "He
+kills himself with work for me. Ah, I am very unhappy, my girl; my sight
+is quite going. In a quarter of an hour after I begin working, I cannot
+see at all--not even to sew sacks. The idea of being a burden to my son
+drives me distracted."
+
+"Oh, don't, ma'am, if Agricola heard you say that--"
+
+"I know the poor boy thinks of nothing but me, and that augments my
+vexation. Only I think that rather than leave me, he gives up the
+advantages that his fellow-workmen enjoy at Hardy's, his good and worthy
+master--instead of living in this dull garret, where it is scarcely light
+at noon, he would enjoy, like the other workmen, at very little expense,
+a good light room, warm in winter, airy in summer, with a view of the
+garden. And he is so fond of trees! not to mention that this place is so
+far from his work, that it is quite a toil to him to get to it."
+
+"Oh, when he embraces you he forgets his fatigue, Mrs. Baudoin," said
+Mother Bunch; "besides, he knows how you cling to the house in which he
+was born. M. Hardy offered to settle you at Plessy with Agricola, in the
+building put up for the workmen."
+
+"Yes, my child; but then I must give up church. I can't do that."
+
+"But--be easy, I hear him," said the hunchback, blushing.
+
+A sonorous, joyous voice was heard singing on the stairs.
+
+"At least, I'll not let him see that I have been crying," said the good
+mother, drying her tears. "This is the only moment of rest and ease from
+toil he has--I must not make it sad to him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+AGRICOLA BAUDOIN.
+
+Our blacksmith poet, a tall young man, about four-and-twenty years of
+age, was alert and robust, with ruddy complexion, dark hair and eyes, and
+aquiline nose, and an open, expressive countenance. His resemblance to
+Dagobert was rendered more striking by the thick brown moustache which he
+wore according to the fashion; and a sharp-pointed imperial covered his
+chin. His cheeks, however, were shaven, Olive color velveteen trousers, a
+blue blouse, bronzed by the forge smoke, a black cravat, tied carelessly
+round his muscular neck, a cloth cap with a narrow vizor, composed his
+dress. The only thing which contrasted singularly with his working
+habiliments was a handsome purple flower, with silvery pistils, which he
+held in his hand.
+
+"Good-evening, mother," said he, as he came to kiss Frances immediately.
+
+Then, with a friendly nod, he added, "Good-evening, Mother Bunch."
+
+"You are very late, my child," said Frances, approaching the little stove
+on which her son's simple meal was simmering; "I was getting very
+anxious."
+
+"Anxious about me, or about my supper, dear mother?" said Agricola,
+gayly. "The deuce! you won't excuse me for keeping the nice little supper
+waiting that you get ready for me, for fear it should be spoilt, eh?"
+
+So saying, the blacksmith tried to kiss his mother again.
+
+"Have done, you naughty boy; you'll make me upset the pan."
+
+"That would be a pity, mother; for it smells delightfully. Let's see what
+it is."
+
+"Wait half a moment."
+
+"I'll swear, now, you have some of the fried potatoes and bacon I'm so
+fond of."
+
+"Being Saturday, of course!" said Frances, in a tone of mild reproach.
+
+"True," rejoined Agricola, exchanging a smile of innocent cunning with
+Mother Bunch; "but, talking of Saturday, mother, here are my wages."
+
+"Thank ye, child; put the money in the cupboard."
+
+"Yes, mother!"
+
+"Oh, dear!" cried the young sempstress, just as Agricola was about to put
+away the money, "what a handsome flower you have in your hand, Agricola.
+I never saw a finer. In winter, too! Do look at it, Mrs. Baudoin."
+
+"See there, mother," said Agricola, taking the flower to her; "look at
+it, admire it, and especially smell it. You can't have a sweeter perfume;
+a blending of vanilla and orange blossom."
+
+"Indeed, it does smell nice, child. Goodness! how handsome!" said
+Frances, admiringly; "where did you find it?"
+
+"Find it, my good mother!" repeated Agricola, smilingly: "do you think
+folks pick up such things between the Barriere du Maine and the Rue
+Brise-Miche?"
+
+"How did you get it then?" inquired the sewing girl, sharing in Frances's
+curiosity.
+
+"Oh! you would like to know? Well, I'll satisfy you, and explain why I
+came home so late; for something else detained me. It has been an evening
+of adventures, I promise you. I was hurrying home, when I heard a low,
+gentle barking at the corner of the Rue de Babylone; it was just about
+dusk, and I could see a very pretty little dog, scarce bigger than my
+fist, black and tan, with long, silky hair, and ears that covered its
+paws."
+
+"Lost, poor thing, I warrant," said Frances.
+
+"You've hit it. I took up the poor thing, and it began to lick my hands.
+Round its neck was a red satin ribbon, tied in a large bow; but as that
+did not bear the master's name, I looked beneath it, and saw a small
+collar, made of a gold plate and small gold chains. So I took a Lucifer
+match from my 'bacco-box, and striking a light, I read, 'FRISKY belongs
+to Hon. Miss Adrienne de Cardoville, No. 7, Rue de Babylone.'"
+
+"Why, you were just in the street," said Mother Bunch.
+
+"Just so. Taking the little animal under my arm, I looked about me till I
+came to a long garden wall, which seemed to have no end, and found a
+small door of a summer-house, belonging no doubt to the large mansion at
+the other end of the park; for this garden looked just like a park. So,
+looking up I saw 'No. 7,' newly painted over a little door with a grated
+slide. I rang; and in a few minutes, spent, no doubt, in observing me
+through the bars (for I am sure I saw a pair of eyes peeping through),
+the gate opened. And now, you'll not believe a word I have to say."
+
+"Why not, my child?"
+
+"Because it seems like a fairy tale."
+
+"A fairy tale?" said Mother Bunch, as if she was really her namesake of
+elfish history.
+
+"For, all the world it does. I am quite astounded, even now, at my
+adventure; it is like the remembrance of a dream."
+
+"Well, let us have it," said the worthy mother, so deeply interested that
+she did not perceive her son's supper was beginning to burn.
+
+"First," said the blacksmith, smiling at the curiosity he had excited, "a
+young lady opened the door to me, but so lovely, so beautifully and
+gracefully dressed, that you would have taken her for a beautiful
+portrait of past times. Before I could say a word, she exclaimed, 'Ah!
+dear me, sir, you have brought back Frisky; how happy Miss Adrienne will
+be! Come, pray come in instantly; she would so regret not having an
+opportunity to thank you in person!' And without giving me time to reply,
+she beckoned me to follow her. Oh, dear mother, it is quite out of my
+power to tell you, the magnificence I saw, as I passed through a small
+saloon, partially lighted, and full of perfume! It would be impossible.
+The young woman walked too quickly. A door opened,--Oh, such a sight! I
+was so dazzled I can remember nothing but a great glare of gold and
+light, crystal and flowers; and, amidst all this brilliancy, a young lady
+of extreme beauty--ideal beauty; but she had red hair, or rather hair
+shining like gold! Oh! it was charming to look at! I never saw such hair
+before. She had black eyes, ruddy lips, and her skin seemed white as
+snow. This is all I can recollect: for, as I said before, I was so
+dazzled, I seemed to be looking through a veil. 'Madame,' said the young
+woman, whom I never should have taken for a lady's-maid, she was dressed
+so elegantly, 'here is Frisky. This gentleman found him, and brought him
+back.' 'Oh, sir,' said the young lady with the golden hair, in a sweet
+silvery voice, 'what thanks I owe you! I am foolishly attached to
+Frisky.' Then, no doubt, concluding from my dress that she ought to thank
+me in some other way than by words, she took up a silk purse, and said to
+me, though I must confess with some hesitation--'No doubt, sir, it gave
+you some trouble to bring my pet back. You have, perhaps, lost some
+valuable time--allow me--' She held forth her purse."
+
+"Oh, Agricola," said Mother Bunch, sadly; "how people may be deceived!"
+
+"Hear the end, and you will perhaps forgive the young lady. Seeing by my
+looks that the offer of the purse hurt me, she took a magnificent
+porcelain vase that contained this flower, and, addressing me in a tone
+full of grace and kindness, that left me room to guess that she was vexed
+at having wounded me, she said--'At least, sir, you will accept this
+flower.'"
+
+"You are right, Agricola," said the girl, smiling sadly; "an involuntary
+error could not be repaired in a nicer way.
+
+"Worthy young lady," said Frances, wiping her eyes; "how well she
+understood my Agricola!"
+
+"Did she not, mother? But just as I was taking the flower, without daring
+to raise my eyes (for, notwithstanding the young lady's kind manner,
+there was something very imposing about her) another handsome girl, tall
+and dark, and dressed to the top of fashion, came in and said to the
+red-haired young lady, 'He is here, Madame.' She immediately rose and
+said to me, 'A thousand pardons, sir. I shall never forget that I am
+indebted to you for a moment of much pleasure. Pray remember, on all
+occasions, my address and name--Adrienne de Cardoville.' Thereupon she
+disappeared. I could not find a word to say in reply. The same young
+woman showed me to the door, and curtseyed to me very politely. And there
+I stood in the Rue de Babylone, as dazzled and astonished as if I had
+come out of an enchanted palace."
+
+"Indeed, my child, it is like a fairy tale. Is it not, my poor girl?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Mother Bunch, in an absent manner that Agricola did
+not observe.
+
+"What affected me most," rejoined Agricola, "was, that the young lady, on
+seeing her little dog, did not forget me for it, as many would have done
+in her place, and took no notice of it before me. That shows delicacy and
+feeling, does it not? Indeed, I believe this young lady to be so kind and
+generous, that I should not hesitate to have recourse to her in any
+important case."
+
+"Yes, you are right," replied the sempstress, more and more absent.
+
+The poor girl suffered extremely. She felt no jealousy, no hatred,
+towards this young stranger, who, from her beauty, wealth, and delicacy,
+seemed to belong to a sphere too splendid and elevated to be even within
+the reach of a work, girl's vision; but, making an involuntary comparison
+of this fortunate condition with her own, the poor thing had never felt
+more cruelly her deformity and poverty. Yet such were the humility and
+gentle resignation of this noble creature, that the only thing which made
+her feel ill-disposed towards Adrienne de Cardoville was the offer of the
+purse to Agricola; but then the charming way in which the young lady had
+atoned for her error, affected the sempstress deeply. Yet her heart was
+ready to break. She could not restrain her tears as she contemplated the
+magnificent flower--so rich in color and perfume, which, given by a
+charming hand, was doubtless very precious to Agricola.
+
+"Now, mother," resumed the young man smilingly, and unaware of the
+painful emotion of the other bystander, "you have had the cream of my
+adventures first. I have told you one of the causes of my delay; and now
+for the other. Just now, as I was coming in, I met the dyer at the foot
+of the stairs, his arms a beautiful pea-green. Stopping me he said, with
+an air full of importance, that he thought he had seen a chap sneaking
+about the house like a spy, 'Well, what is that to you, Daddy Loriot?'
+said I: 'are you afraid he will nose out the way to make the beautiful
+green, with which you are dyed up to the very elbows?'"
+
+"But who could that man be, Agricola?" said Frances.
+
+"On my word, mother, I don't know and scarcely care; I tried to persuade
+Daddy Loriot, who chatters like a magpie, to return to his cellar, since
+it could signify as little to him as to me, whether a spy watched him or
+not." So saying, Agricola went and placed the little leathern sack,
+containing his wages, on a shelf, in the cupboard.
+
+As Frances put down the saucepan on the end of the table, Mother Bunch,
+recovering from her reverie, filled a basin with water, and, taking it to
+the blacksmith, said to him in a gentle tone-"Agricola--for your hands."
+
+"Thank you, little sister. How kind you are!" Then with a most unaffected
+gesture and tone, he added, "There is my fine flower for your trouble."
+
+"Do you give it me?" cried the sempstress, with emotion, while a vivid
+blush  her pale and interesting face. "Do you give me this
+handsome flower, which a lovely rich young lady so kindly and graciously
+gave you?" And the poor thing repeated, with growing astonishment, "Do
+you give it to me?"
+
+"What the deuce should I do with it? Wear it on my heart, have it set as
+a pin?" said Agricola, smiling. "It is true I was very much impressed by
+the charming way in which the young lady thanked me. I am delighted to
+think I found her little dog, and very happy to be able to give you this
+flower, since it pleases you. You see the day has been a happy one."
+
+While Mother Bunch, trembling with pleasure, emotion, and surprise, took
+the flower, the young blacksmith washed his hands, so black with smoke
+and steel filings that the water became dark in an instant. Agricola,
+pointing out this change to the sempstress, said to her in a whisper,
+laughing,-"Here's cheap ink for us paper-stainers! I finished some verses
+yesterday, which I am rather satisfied with. I will read them to you."
+
+With this, Agricola wiped his hands naturally on the front of his blouse,
+while Mother Bunch replaced the basin on the chest of drawers, and laid
+the flower against the side of it.
+
+"Can't you ask for a towel," said Frances, shrugging her shoulders,
+"instead of wiping your hands on your blouse?"
+
+"After being scorched all day long at the forge, it will be all the
+better for a little cooling to-night, won't it? Am I disobedient, mother?
+Scold me, then, if you dare! Come, let us see you."
+
+Frances made no reply; but, placing her hands on either side of her son's
+head, so beautiful in its candor, resolution and intelligence, she
+surveyed him for a moment with maternal pride, and kissed him repeatedly
+on the forehead.
+
+"Come," said she, "sit down: you stand all day at your forge, and it is
+late."
+
+"So,--your arm-chair again!" said Agricola.--"Our usual quarrel every
+evening--take it away, I shall be quite as much at ease on another."
+
+"No, no! You ought at least to rest after your hard toil."
+
+"What tyranny!" said Agricola gayly, sitting down. "Well, I preach like a
+good apostle; but I am quite at ease in your arm-chair, after all. Since
+I sat down on the throne in the Tuileries, I have never had a better
+seat."
+
+Frances Baudoin, standing on one side of the table, cut a slice of bread
+for her son, while Mother Bunch, on the other, filled his silver mug.
+There was something affecting in the attentive eagerness of the two
+excellent creatures, for him whom they loved so tenderly.
+
+"Won't you sup with me?" said Agricola to the girl.
+
+"Thank you, Agricola," replied the sempstress, looking down, "I have only
+just dined."
+
+"Oh, I only ask you for form's sake--you have your whims--we can never
+prevail on you to eat with us--just like mother; she prefers dining all
+alone; and in that way she deprives herself without my knowing it."
+
+"Goodness, child! It is better for my health to dine early. Well, do you
+find it nice?"
+
+"Nice!--call it excellent! Stockfish and parsnips. Oh, I am very fond of
+stockfish; I should have been born a Newfoundland fisherman."
+
+This worthy lad, on the contrary, was but poorly refreshed, after a hard
+day's toil, with this paltry stew,--a little burnt as it had been, too,
+during his story; but he knew he pleased his mother by observing the fast
+without complaining. He affected to enjoy his meal; and the good woman
+accordingly observed with satisfaction:
+
+"Oh, I see you like it, my dear boy; Friday and Saturday next we'll have
+some more."
+
+"Thank you, mother,--only not two days together. One gets tired of
+luxuries, you know! And now, let us talk of what we shall do
+to-morrow--Sunday. We must be very merry, for the last few days you seem
+very sad, dear mother, and I can't make it out--I fancy you are not
+satisfied with me."
+
+"Oh, my dear child!--you--the pattern of--"
+
+"Well, well! Prove to me that you are happy, then, by taking a little
+amusement. Perhaps you will do us the honor of accompanying us, as you
+did last time," added Agricola, bowing to Mother Bunch.
+
+The latter blushed and looked down; her face assumed an expression of
+bitter grief, and she made no reply.
+
+"I have the prayers to attend all day, you know, my dear child," said
+Frances to her son.
+
+"Well, in the evening, then? I don't propose the theatre; but they say
+there is a conjurer to be seen whose tricks are very amusing.
+
+"I am obliged to you, my son; but that is a kind of theatre."
+
+"Dear mother, this is unreasonable!"
+
+"My dear child, do I ever hinder others from doing what they like?"
+
+"True, dear mother; forgive me. Well, then, if it should be fine, we will
+simply take a walk with Mother Bunch on the Boulevards. It is nearly
+three months since she went out with us; and she never goes out without
+us."
+
+"No, no; go alone, my child. Enjoy your Sunday, 'tis little enough."
+
+"You know very well, Agricola," said the sempstress, blushing up to the
+eyes, "that I ought not to go out with you and your mother again."
+
+"Why not, madame? May I ask, without impropriety, the cause of this
+refusal?" said Agricola gayly.
+
+The poor girl smiled sadly, and replied, "Because I will not expose you
+to a quarrel on my account, Agricola."
+
+"Forgive me," said Agricola, in a tone of sincere grief, and he struck
+his forehead vexedly.
+
+To this Mother Bunch alluded sometimes, but very rarely, for she observed
+punctilious discretion. The girl had gone out with Agricola and his
+mother. Such occasions were, indeed, holidays for her. Many days and
+nights had she toiled hard to procure a decent bonnet and shawl, that she
+might not do discredit to her friends. The five or six days of holidays,
+thus spent arm in arm with him whom she adored in secret, formed the sum
+of her happy days.
+
+Taking their last walk, a coarse, vulgar man elbowed her so rudely that
+the poor girl could not refrain from a cry of terror, and the man
+retorted it by saying,-"What are you rolling your hump in my way for,
+stoopid?"
+
+Agricola, like his father, had the patience which force and courage give
+to the truly brave; but he was extremely quick when it became necessary
+to avenge an insult. Irritated at the vulgarity of this man, Agricola
+left his mother's arm to inflict on the brute, who was of his own age,
+size, and force, two vigorous blows, such as the powerful arm and huge
+fist of a blacksmith never before inflicted on human face. The villain
+attempted to return it, and Agricola repeated the correction, to the
+amusement of the crowd, and the fellow slunk away amidst a deluge of
+hisses. This adventure made Mother Bunch say she would not go out with
+Agricola again, in order to save him any occasion of quarrel. We may
+conceive the blacksmith's regret at having thus unwittingly revived the
+memory of this circumstance,--more painful, alas! for Mother Bunch than
+Agricola could imagine, for she loved him passionately, and her infirmity
+had been the cause of that quarrel. Notwithstanding his strength and
+resolution, Agricola was childishly sensitive; and, thinking how painful
+that thought must be to the poor girl, a large tear filled his eyes, and,
+holding out his hands, he said, in a brotherly tone, "Forgive my
+heedlessness! Come, kiss me." And he gave her thin, pale cheeks two
+hearty kisses.
+
+The poor girl's lips turned pale at this cordial caress; and her heart
+beat so violently that she was obliged to lean against the corner of the
+table.
+
+"Come, you forgive me, do you not?" said Agricola.
+
+"Yes! yes!" she said, trying to subdue her emotion; "but the recollection
+of that quarrel pains me--I was so alarmed on your account; if the crowd
+had sided with that man!"
+
+"Alas!" said Frances, coming to the sewing-girl's relief, without knowing
+it, "I was never so afraid in all my life!"
+
+"Oh, mother," rejoined Agricola, trying to change a conversation which
+had now become disagreeable for the sempstress, "for the wife of a horse
+grenadier of the Imperial Guard, you have not much courage. Oh, my brave
+father; I can't believe he is really coming! The very thought turns me
+topsy-turvy!"
+
+"Heaven grant he may come," said Frances, with a sigh.
+
+"God grant it, mother. He will grant it, I should think. Lord knows, you
+have had masses enough said for his return."
+
+"Agricola, my child," said Frances, interrupting her son, and shaking her
+head sadly, "do not speak in that way. Besides, you are talking of your
+father."
+
+"Well, I'm in for it this evening. 'Tis your turn now; positively, I am
+growing stupid, or going crazy. Forgive me, mother! forgive! That's the
+only word I can get out to-night. You know that, when I do let out on
+certain subjects, it is because I can't help it; for I know well the pain
+it gives you."
+
+"You do not offend me, my poor, dear, misguided boy."
+
+"It comes to the same thing; and there is nothing so bad as to offend
+one's mother; and, with respect to what I said about father's return, I
+do not see that we have any cause to doubt it."
+
+"But we have not heard from him for four months."
+
+"You know, mother, in his letter--that is, in the letter which he
+dictated (for you remember that, with the candor of an old soldier, he
+told us that, if he could read tolerably well, he could not write); well,
+in that letter he said we were not to be anxious about him; that he
+expected to be in Paris about the end of January, and would send us word,
+three or four days before, by what road he expected to arrive, that I
+might go and meet him."
+
+"True, my child; and February is come, and no news yet."
+
+"The greater reason why we should wait patiently. But I'll tell you more:
+I should not be surprised if our good Gabriel were to come back about the
+same time. His last letter from America makes me hope so. What pleasure,
+mother, should all the family be together!"
+
+"Oh, yes, my child! It would be a happy day for me."
+
+"And that day will soon come, trust me."
+
+"Do you remember your father, Agricola?" inquired Mother Bunch.
+
+"To tell the truth, I remember most his great grenadier's shako and
+moustache, which used to frighten me so, that nothing but the red ribbon
+of his cross of honor, on the white facings of his uniform, and the
+shining handle of his sabre, could pacify me; could it, mother? But what
+is the matter? You are weeping!"
+
+"Alas! poor Baudoin! What he must suffer at being separated from us at
+his age--sixty and past! Alas! my child, my heart breaks, when I think
+that he comes home only to change one kind of poverty for another."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Alas! I earn nothing now."
+
+"Why, what's become of me? Isn't there a room here for you and for him;
+and a table for you too? Only, my good mother, since we are talking of
+domestic affairs," added the blacksmith, imparting increased tenderness
+to his tone, that he might not shock his mother, "when he and Gabriel
+come home, you won't want to have any more masses said, and tapers burned
+for them, will you? Well, that saving will enable father to have tobacco
+to smoke, and his bottle of wine every day. Then, on Sundays, we will
+take a nice dinner at the eating-house."
+
+A knocking at the door disturbed Agricola.
+
+"Come in," said he. Instead of doing so, some one half-opened the door,
+and, thrusting in an arm of a pea-green color, made signs to the
+blacksmith.
+
+"'Tis old Loriot, the pattern of dyers," said Agricola; "come in, Daddy,
+no ceremony."
+
+"Impossible, my lad; I am dripping with dye from head to foot; I should
+cover missus's floor with green."
+
+"So much the better. It will remind me of the fields I like so much."
+
+"Without joking, Agricola, I must speak to you immediately."
+
+"About the spy, eh? Oh, be easy; what's he to us?"
+
+"No; I think he's gone; at any rate, the fog is so thick I can't see him.
+But that's not it--come, come quickly! It is very important," said the
+dyer, with a mysterious look; "and only concerns you."
+
+"Me, only?" said Agricola, with surprise. "What can it be.
+
+"Go and see, my child," said Frances.
+
+"Yes, mother; but the deuce take me if I can make it out."
+
+And the blacksmith left the room, leaving his mother with Mother Bunch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+THE RETURN.
+
+In five minutes Agricola returned; his face was pale and agitated--his
+eyes glistened with tears, and his hands trembled; but his countenance
+expressed extraordinary happiness and emotion. He stood at the door for a
+moment, as if too much affected to accost his mother.
+
+Frances's sight was so bad that she did not immediately perceive the
+change her son's countenance had undergone.
+
+"Well, my child--what is it?" she inquired.
+
+Before the blacksmith could reply, Mother Bunch, who had more
+discernment, exclaimed: "Goodness, Agricola--how pale you are! Whatever
+is the matter?"
+
+"Mother," said the artisan, hastening to Frances, without replying to the
+sempstress,--"mother, expect news that will astonish you; but promise me
+you will be calm."
+
+"What do you mean? How you tremble! Look at me! Mother Bunch was
+right--you are quite pale."
+
+"My kind mother!" and Agricola, kneeling before Frances, took both her
+hands in his--"you must--you do not know,--but--"
+
+The blacksmith could not go on. Tears of joy interrupted his speech.
+
+"You weep, my dear child! Your tears alarm me. 'What is the matter?--you
+terrify me!"
+
+"Oh, no, I would not terrify you; on the contrary," said Agricola, drying
+his eyes--"you will be so happy. But, again, you must try and command
+your feelings, for too much joy is as hurtful as too much grief."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Did I not say true, when I said he would come?"
+
+"Father!" cried Frances. She rose from her seat; but her surprise and
+emotion were so great that she put one hand to her heart to still its
+beating, and then she felt her strength fail. Her son sustained her, and
+assisted her to sit down.
+
+Mother Bunch, till now, had stood discreetly apart, witnessing from a
+distance the scene which completely engrossed Agricola and his mother.
+But she now drew near timidly, thinking she might be useful; for Frances
+changed color more and more.
+
+"Come, courage, mother," said the blacksmith; "now the shock is over, you
+have only to enjoy the pleasure of seeing my father."
+
+"My poor man! after eighteen years' absence. Oh, I cannot believe it,"
+said Frances, bursting into tears. "Is it true? Is it, indeed, true?"
+
+"So true, that if you will promise me to keep as calm as you can, I will
+tell you when you may see him."
+
+"Soon--may I not?"
+
+"Yes; soon."
+
+"But when will he arrive?"
+
+"He may arrive any minute--to-morrow--perhaps to-day."
+
+"To-day!"
+
+"Yes, mother! Well, I must tell you all--he has arrived."
+
+"He--he is--" Frances could not articulate the word.
+
+"He was downstairs just now. Before coming up, he sent the dyer to
+apprise me that I might prepare you; for my brave father feared the
+surprise might hurt you."
+
+"Oh, heaven!"
+
+"And now," cried the blacksmith, in an accent of indescribable joy--"he
+is there, waiting! Oh, mother! for the last ten minutes I have scarcely
+been able to contain myself--my heart is bursting with joy." And running
+to the door, he threw it open.
+
+Dagobert, holding Rose and Blanche by the hand, stood on the threshold.
+Instead of rushing to her husband's arms, Frances fell on her knees in
+prayer. She thanked heaven with profound gratitude for hearing her
+prayers, and thus accepting her offerings. During a second, the actors of
+this scene stood silent and motionless. Agricola, by a sentiment of
+respect and delicacy, which struggled violently with his affection, did
+not dare to fall on his father's neck. He waited with constrained
+impatience till his mother had finished her prayer.
+
+The soldier experienced the same feeling as the blacksmith; they
+understood each other. The first glance exchanged by father and son
+expressed their affection--their veneration for that excellent woman, who
+in the fulness of her religious fervor, forgot, perhaps, too much the
+creature for the Creator.
+
+Rose and Blanche, confused and affected, looked with interest on the
+kneeling woman; while Mother Bunch, shedding in silence tears of joy at
+the thought of Agricola's happiness, withdrew into the most obscure
+corner of the room, feeling that she was a stranger, and necessarily out
+of place in that family meeting. Frances rose, and took a step towards
+her husband, who received her in his arms. There was a moment of solemn
+silence. Dagobert and Frances said not a word. Nothing could be heard but
+a few sighs, mingled with sighs of joy. And, when the aged couple looked
+up, their expression was calm, radiant, serene; for the full and complete
+enjoyment of simple and pure sentiments never leaves behind a feverish
+and violent agitation.
+
+"My children," said the soldier, in tones of emotion, presenting the
+orphans to Frances, who, after her first agitation, had surveyed them
+with astonishment, "this is my good and worthy wife; she will be to the
+daughters of General Simon what I have been to them."
+
+"Then, madame, you will treat us as your children," said Rose,
+approaching Frances with her sister.
+
+"The daughters of General Simon!" cried Dagobert's wife, more and more
+astonished.
+
+"Yes, my dear Frances; I have brought them from afar not without some
+difficulty; but I will tell you that by and by."
+
+"Poor little things! One would take them for two angels, exactly alike!"
+said Frances, contemplating the orphans with as much interest as
+admiration.
+
+"Now--for us," cried Dagobert, turning to his son.
+
+"At last," rejoined the latter.
+
+We must renounce all attempts to describe the wild joy of Dagobert and
+his son, and the crushing grip of their hands, which Dagobert interrupted
+only to look in Agricola's face; while he rested his hands on the young
+blacksmith's broad shoulders that he might see to more advantage his
+frank masculine countenance, and robust frame. Then he shook his hand
+again, exclaiming, "He's a fine fellow--well built--what a good-hearted
+look he has!"
+
+From a corner of the room Mother Bunch enjoyed Agricola's happiness; but
+she feared that her presence, till then unheeded, would be an intrusion.
+She wished to withdraw unnoticed, but could not do so. Dagobert and his
+son were between her and the door; and she stood unable to take her eyes
+from the charming faces of Rose and Blanche. She had never seen anything
+so winsome; and the extraordinary resemblance of the sisters increased
+her surprise. Then, their humble mourning revealing that they were poor,
+Mother Bunch involuntarily felt more sympathy towards them.
+
+"Dear children! They are cold; their little hands are frozen, and,
+unfortunately, the fire is out," said Frances, She tried to warm the
+orphans' hands in hers, while Dagobert and his son gave themselves up to
+the feelings of affection, so long restrained.
+
+As soon as Frances said that the fire was out, Mother Bunch hastened to
+make herself useful, as an excuse for her presence; and, going to the
+cupboard, where the charcoal and wood were kept, she took some small
+pieces, and, kneeling before the stove, succeeded, by the aid of a few
+embers that remained, in relighting the fire, which soon began to draw
+and blaze. Filling a coffee-pot with water, she placed it on the stove,
+presuming that the orphans required some warm drink. The sempstress did
+all this with so much dexterity and so little noise--she was naturally so
+forgotten amidst the emotions of the scene--that Frances, entirely
+occupied with Rose and Blanche, only perceived the fire when she felt its
+warmth diffusing round, and heard the boiling water singing in the
+coffee-pot. This phenomenon--fire rekindling of itself--did not astonish
+Dagobert's wife then, so wholly was she taken up in devising how she
+could lodge the maidens; for Dagobert as we have seen, had not given her
+notice of their arrival.
+
+Suddenly a loud bark was heard three or four times at the door.
+
+"Hallo! there's Spoil-sport," said Dagobert, letting in his dog; "he
+wants to come in to brush acquaintance with the family too."
+
+The dog came in with a bound, and in a second was quite at home. After
+having rubbed Dagobert's hand with his muzzle, he went in turns to greet
+Rose and Blanche, and also Frances and Agricola; but seeing that they
+took but little notice of him, he perceived Mother Bunch, who stood
+apart, in an obscure corner of the room, and carrying out the popular
+saying, "the friends of our friends are our friends," he went and licked
+the hands of the young workwoman, who was just then forgotten by all. By
+a singular impulse, this action affected the girl to tears; she patted
+her long, thin, white hand several times on the head of the intelligent
+dog. Then, finding that she could be no longer useful (for she had done
+all the little services she deemed in her power), she took the handsome
+flower Agricola had given her, opened the door gently, and went away so
+discreetly that no one noticed her departure. After this exchange of
+mutual affection, Dagobert, his wife, and son, began to think of the
+realities of life.
+
+"Poor Frances," said the soldier, glancing at Rose and Blanche, "you did
+not expect such a pretty surprise!"
+
+"I am only sorry, my friend," replied Frances, "that the daughters of
+General Simon will not have a better lodging than this poor room; for
+with Agricola's garret--"
+
+"It composes our mansion," interrupted Dagobert; "there are handsomer, it
+must be confessed. But be at ease; these young ladies are drilled into
+not being hard to suit on that score. To-morrow, I and my boy will go arm
+and arm, and I'll answer for it he won't walk the more upright and
+straight of the two, and find out General Simon's father, at M. Hardy's
+factory, to talk about business."
+
+"To-morrow," said Agricola to Dagobert, "you will not find at the factory
+either M. Hardy or Marshall Simon's father."
+
+"What is that you say, my lad?" cried Dagobert, hastily, "the Marshal!"
+
+"To be sure; since 1830, General Simon's friends have secured him the
+title and rank which the emperor gave him at the battle of Ligny."
+
+"Indeed!" cried Dagobert, with emotion, "but that ought not to surprise
+me; for, after all, it is just; and when the emperor said a thing, the
+least they can do is to let it abide. But it goes all the same to my
+heart; it makes me jump again."
+
+Addressing the sisters, he said: "Do you hear that, my children? You
+arrive in Paris the daughters of a Duke and Marshal of France. One would
+hardly think it, indeed, to see you in this room, my poor little
+duchesses! But patience; all will go well. Ah, father Simon must have
+been very glad to hear that his son was restored to his rank! eh, my
+lad?"
+
+"He told us he would renounce all kinds of ranks and titles to see his
+son again; for it was during the general's absence that his friends
+obtained this act of justice. But they expect Marshal Simon every moment,
+for the last letter from India announced his departure."
+
+At these words Rose and Blanche looked at each other; and their eyes
+filled with tears.
+
+"Heaven be praised! These children rely on his return; but why shall we
+not find M. Hardy and father Simon at the factory to-morrow?"
+
+"Ten days ago, they went to examine and study an English mill established
+in the south; but we expect them back every day."
+
+"The deuce! that's vexing; I relied on seeing the general's father, to
+talk over some important matters with him. At any rate, they know where
+to write to him. So to-morrow you will let him know, my lad, that his
+granddaughters are arrived. In the mean time, children," added the
+soldier, to Rose and Blanche, "my good wife will give you her bed and you
+must put up with the chances of war. Poor things! they will not be worse
+off here than they were on the journey."
+
+"You know we shall always be well off with you and madame," said Rose.
+
+"Besides, we only think of the pleasure of being at length in Paris,
+since here we are to find our father," added Blanche.
+
+"That hope gives you patience, I know," said Dagobert, "but no matter!
+After all you have heard about it, you ought to be finely surprised, my
+children. As yet, you have not found it the golden city of your dreams,
+by any means. But, patience, patience; you'll find Paris not so bad as it
+looks."
+
+"Besides," said Agricola, "I am sure the arrival of Marshal Simon in
+Paris will change it for you into a golden city."
+
+"You are right, Agricola," said Rose, with a smile, "you have, indeed,
+guessed us."
+
+"What! do you know my name?"
+
+"Certainly, Agricola, we often talked about you with Dagobert; and
+latterly, too, with Gabriel," added Blanche.
+
+"Gabriel!" cried Agricola and his mother, at the same time.
+
+"Yes," replied Dagobert, making a sign of intelligence to the orphans,
+"we have lots to tell you for a fortnight to come; and among other
+things, how we chanced to meet with Gabriel. All I can now say is that,
+in his way, he is quite as good as my boy (I shall never be tired of
+saying 'my boy'); and they ought to love each other like brothers. Oh, my
+brave, brave wife!" said Dagobert, with emotion, "you did a good thing,
+poor as you were, taking the unfortunate child--and bringing him up with
+your own."
+
+"Don't talk so much about it, my dear; it was such a simple thing."
+
+"You are right; but I'll make you amends for it by and by. 'Tis down to
+your account; in the mean time, you will be sure to see him to-morrow
+morning."
+
+"My dear brother arrived too!" cried the blacksmith; "who'll say, after
+this, that there are not days set apart for happiness? How came you to
+meet him, father?"
+
+"I'll tell you all, by and by, about when and how we met Gabriel; for if
+you expect to sleep, you are mistaken. You'll give me half your room, and
+a fine chat we'll have. Spoil-sport will stay outside of this door; he is
+accustomed to sleep at the children's door."
+
+"Dear me, love, I think of nothing. But, at such a moment, if you and the
+young ladies wish to sup, Agricola will fetch something from the
+cook-shop."
+
+"What do you say, children?"
+
+"No, thank you, Dagobert, we are not hungry; we are too happy."
+
+"You will take a little wine and water, sweetened, nice and hot, to warm
+you a little, my dear young ladies," said Frances; "unfortunately, I have
+nothing else to offer you."
+
+"You are right, Frances; the dear children are tired, and want to go to
+bed; while they do so, I'll go to my boy's room, and, before Rose and
+Blanche are awake, I will come down and converse with you, just to give
+Agricola a respite."
+
+A knock was now heard at the door.
+
+"It is good Mother Bunch come to see if we want her," said Agricola.
+
+"But I think she was here when my husband came in," added Frances.
+
+"Right, mother; and the good girl left lest she should be an intruder:
+she is so thoughtful. But no--no--it is not she who knocks so loud."
+
+"Go and see who it is, then, Agricola."
+
+Before the blacksmith could reach the door, a man decently dressed, with
+a respectable air, entered the room, and glanced rapidly round, looking
+for a moment at Rose and Blanche.
+
+"Allow me to observe, sir," said Agricola, "that after knocking, you
+might have waited till the door was opened, before you entered. Pray,
+what is your business?"
+
+"Pray excuse me, sir," said the man, very politely, and speaking slowly,
+perhaps to prolong his stay in the room: "I beg a thousand pardons--I
+regret my intrusion--I am ashamed--"
+
+"Well, you ought to be, sir," said Agricola, with impatience, "what do
+you want?"
+
+"Pray, sir, does not Miss Soliveau, a deformed needlewoman, live here?"
+
+"No, sir; upstairs," said Agricola.
+
+"Really, sir," cried the polite man, with low bows, "I am quite abroad at
+my blunder: I thought this was the room of that young person. I brought
+her proposals for work from a very respectable party."
+
+"It is very late, sir," said Agricola, with surprise. "But that young
+person is as one of our family. Call to-morrow; you cannot see her to
+night; she is gone to bed."
+
+"Then, sir, I again beg you to excuse--"
+
+"Enough, sir," said Agricola, taking a step towards the door.
+
+"I hope, madame and the young ladies, as well as this gent, will be
+assured that--"
+
+"If you go on much longer making excuses, sir, you will have to excuse
+the length of your excuses; and it is time this came to an end!"
+
+Rose and Blanche smiled at these words of Agricola; while Dagobert rubbed
+his moustache with pride.
+
+"What wit the boy has!" said he aside to his wife. "But that does not
+astonish you--you are used to it."
+
+During this speech, the ceremonious person withdrew, having again
+directed a long inquiring glance to the sisters, and to Agricola and
+Dagobert.
+
+In a few minutes after, Frances having spread a mattress on the ground
+for herself, and put the whitest sheets on her bed for the orphans,
+assisted them to undress with maternal solicitude, Dagobert and Agricola
+having previously withdrawn to their garret. Just as the blacksmith, who
+preceded his father with a light, passed before the door of Mother
+Bunch's room, the latter, half concealed in the shade, said to him
+rapidly, in a low tone:
+
+"Agricola, great danger threatens you: I must speak to you."
+
+These words were uttered in so hasty and low a voice that Dagobert did
+not hear them; but as Agricola stopped suddenly, with a start, the old
+soldier said to him,
+
+"Well, boy, what is it?"
+
+"Nothing, father," said the blacksmith, turning round; "I feared I did
+not light you well."
+
+"Oh, stand at ease about that; I have the legs and eyes of fifteen to
+night;" and the soldier, not noticing his son's surprise, went into the
+little room where they were both to pass the night.
+
+On leaving the house, after his inquiries about Mother Bunch, the over
+polite Paul Pry slunk along to the end of Brise-Miche Street. He advanced
+towards a hackney-coach drawn up on the Cloitre Saint-Merry Square.
+
+In this carriage lounged Rodin, wrapped in a cloak.
+
+"Well?" said he, in an inquiring tone.
+
+"The two girls and the man with gray moustache went directly to Frances
+Baudoin's; by listening at the door, I learnt that the sisters will sleep
+with her, in that room, to-night; the old man with gray moustache will
+share the young blacksmith's room."
+
+"Very well," said Rodin.
+
+"I did not dare insist on seeing the deformed workwoman this evening on
+the subject of the Bacchanal Queen; I intend returning to-morrow, to
+learn the effect of the letter she must have received this evening by the
+post about the young blacksmith."
+
+"Do not fail! And now you will call, for me, on Frances Baudoin's
+confessor, late as it is; you will tell him that I am waiting for him at
+Rue du Milieu des Ursins--he must not lose a moment. Do you come with
+him. Should I not be returned, he will wait for me. You will tell him it
+is on a matter of great moment."
+
+"All shall be faithfully executed," said the ceremonious man, cringing to
+Rodin, as the coach drove quickly away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+AGRICOLA AND MOTHER BUNCH.
+
+Within one hour after the different scenes which have just been described
+the most profound silence reigned in the soldier's humble dwelling. A
+flickering light, which played through two panes of glass in a door,
+betrayed that Mother Bunch had not yet gone to sleep; for her gloomy
+recess, without air or light, was impenetrable to the rays of day, except
+by this door, opening upon a narrow and obscure passage, connected with
+the roof. A sorry bed, a table, an old portmanteau, and a chair, so
+nearly filled this chilling abode, that two persons could not possibly be
+seated within it, unless one of them sat upon the side of the bed.
+
+The magnificent and precious flower that Agricola had given to the girl
+was carefully stood up in a vessel of water, placed upon the table on a
+linen cloth, diffusing its sweet odor around, and expanding its purple
+calix in the very closet, whose plastered walls, gray and damp, were
+feebly lighted by the rays of an attenuated candle. The sempstress, who
+had taken off no part of her dress, was seated upon her bed--her looks
+were downcast, and her eyes full of tears. She supported herself with one
+hand resting on the bolster; and, inclining towards the door, listened
+with painful eagerness, every instant hoping to hear the footsteps of
+Agricola. The heart of the young sempstress beat violently; her face,
+usually very pale, was now partially flushed--so exciting was the emotion
+by which she was agitated. Sometimes she cast her eyes with terror upon a
+letter which she held in her hand, a letter that had been delivered by
+post in the course of the evening, and which had been placed by the
+housekeeper (the dyer) upon the table, while she was rendering some
+trivial domestic services during the recognitions of Dagobert and his
+family.
+
+After some seconds, Mother Bunch heard a door, very near her own, softly
+opened.
+
+"There he is at last!" she exclaimed, and Agricola immediately entered.
+
+"I waited till my father went to sleep," said the blacksmith, in a low
+voice, his physiognomy evincing much more curiosity than uneasiness. "But
+what is the matter, my good sister? How your countenance is changed! You
+weep! What has happened? About what danger would you speak to me?"
+
+"Hush! Read this!" said she, her voice trembling with emotion, while she
+hastily presented to him the open letter. Agricola held it towards the
+light, and read what follows:
+
+"A person who has reasons for concealing himself, but who knows the
+sisterly interest you take in the welfare of Agricola Baudoin, warns you.
+That young and worthy workman will probably be arrested in the course of
+to-morrow."
+
+"I!" exclaimed Agricola, looking at Mother Bunch with an air of stupefied
+amazement. "What is the meaning of all this?"
+
+"Read on!" quickly replied the sempstress, clasping her hands.
+
+Agricola resumed reading, scarcely believing the evidence of his
+eyes:-"The song, entitled 'Working-men Freed,' has been declared
+libellous. Numerous copies of it have been found among the papers of a
+secret society, the leaders of which are about to be incarcerated, as
+being concerned in the Rue des Prouvaires conspiracy."
+
+"Alas!" said the girl, melting into tears, "now I see it all. The man who
+was lurking about below, this evening, who was observed by the dyer, was,
+doubtless, a spy, lying in wait for you coming home."
+
+"Nonsense!" exclaimed Agricola. "This accusation is quite ridiculous! Do
+not torment yourself. I never trouble myself with politics. My verses
+breathe nothing but philanthropy. Am I to blame, if they have been found
+among the papers of a secret society?" Agricola disdainfully threw the
+letter upon the table.
+
+"Read! pray read!" said the other; "read on."
+
+"If you wish it," said Agricola, "I will; no time is lost."
+
+He resumed the reading of the letter:
+
+"A warrant is about to be issued against Agricola Baudoin. There is mo
+doubt of his innocence being sooner or later made clear; but it will be
+well if he screen himself for a time as much as possible from pursuit, in
+order that he may escape a confinement of two or three months previous to
+trial--an imprisonment which would be a terrible blow for his mother,
+whose sole support he is.
+
+"A SINCERE FRIEND, who is compelled to remain unknown."
+
+After a moment's silence, the blacksmith raised his head; his countenance
+resumed its serenity; and laughing, he said: "Reassure yourself, good
+Mother Bunch, these jokers have made a mistake by trying their games on
+me. It is plainly an attempt at making an April-fool of me before the
+time."
+
+"Agricola, for the love of heaven!" said the girl, in a supplicating
+tone; "treat not the warning thus lightly. Believe in my forebodings, and
+listen to my advice."
+
+"I tell you again, my good girl," replied Agricola, "that it is two
+months since my song was published. It is not in any way political;
+indeed, if it were, they would not have waited till now before coming
+down on me."
+
+"But," said the other, "you forget that new events have arisen. It is
+scarcely two days since the conspiracy was discovered, in this very
+neighborhood, in the Rue des Prouvaires. And," continued she, "if the
+verses, though perhaps hitherto unnoticed, have now been found in the
+possession of the persons apprehended for this conspiracy, nothing more
+is necessary to compromise you in the plot."
+
+"Compromise me!" said Agricola; "my verses! in which I only praise the
+love of labor and of goodness! To arrest me for that! If so, justice
+would be but a blind noodle. That she might grope her way, it would be
+necessary to furnish her with a dog and a pilgrim's staff to guide her
+steps."
+
+"Agricola," resumed Mother Bunch; overwhelmed with anxiety and terror on
+hearing the blacksmith jest at such a moment, "I conjure you to listen to
+me! No doubt you uphold in the verses the sacred love of labor; but you
+do also grievously deplore and deprecate the unjust lot of the poor
+laborers, devoted as they are, without hope, to all the miseries of life;
+you recommend, indeed, only fraternity among men; but your good and noble
+heart vents its indignation, at the same time, against the selfish and
+the wicked. In fine, you fervently hasten on, with the ardor of your
+wishes, the emancipation of all the artisans who, less fortunate than
+you, have not generous M. Hardy for employer. Say, Agricola, in these
+times of trouble, is there anything more necessary to compromise you than
+that numerous copies of your song have been found in possession of the
+persons who have been apprehended?"
+
+Agricola was moved by these affectionate and judicious expressions of an
+excellent creature, who reasoned from her heart; and he began to view
+with more seriousness the advice which she had given him.
+
+Perceiving that she had shaken him, the sewing-girl went on to say: "And
+then, bear your fellow-workman, Remi, in recollection."
+
+"Remi!" said Agricola, anxiously.
+
+"Yes," resumed the sempstress; "a letter of his, a letter in itself quite
+insignificant, was found in the house of a person arrested last year for
+conspiracy; and Remi, in consequence, remained a month in prison."
+
+"That is true, but the injustice of his implication was easily shown, and
+he was set at liberty."
+
+"Yes, Agricola: but not till he had lain a month in prison; and that has
+furnished the motive of the person who advised you to conceal yourself! A
+month in prison! Good heavens! Agricola, think of that! and your mother."
+
+These words made a powerful impression upon Agricola. He took up the
+letter and again read it attentively.
+
+"And the man who has been lurking all this evening about the house?"
+proceeded she. "I constantly recall that circumstance, which cannot be
+naturally accounted for. Alas! what a blow it would be for your father,
+and poor mother, who is incapable of earning anything. Are you not now
+their only resource? Oh! consider, then, what would become of them
+without you--without your labor!"
+
+"It would indeed be terrible," said Agricola, impatiently casting the
+letter upon the table. "What you have said concerning Remi is too true.
+He was as innocent as I am: yet an error of justice, an involuntary error
+though it be, is not the less cruel. But they don't commit a man without
+hearing him."
+
+"But they arrest him first, and hear him afterwards," said Mother Bunch,
+bitterly; "and then, after a month or two, they restore him his liberty.
+And if he have a wife and children, whose only means of living is his
+daily labor, what becomes of them while their only supporter is in
+prison? They suffer hunger, they endure cold, and they weep!"
+
+At these simple and pathetic words, Agricola trembled.
+
+"A month without work," he said, with a sad and thoughtful air. "And my
+mother, and father, and the two young ladies who make part of our family
+until the arrival in Paris of their father, Marshal Simon. Oh! you are
+right. That thought, in spite of myself, affrights me!"
+
+"Agricola!" exclaimed the girl impetuously; "suppose you apply to M.
+Hardy; he is so good, and his character is so much esteemed and honored,
+that, if he offered bail for you, perhaps they would give up their
+persecution?"
+
+"Unfortunately," replied Agricola, "M. Hardy is absent; he is on a
+journey with Marshal Simon."
+
+After a silence of some time, Agricola, striving to surmount his fear,
+added: "But no! I cannot give credence to this letter. After all, I had
+rather await what may come. I'll at least have the chance of proving my
+innocence on my first examination: for indeed, my good sister, whether it
+be that I am in prison or that I fly to conceal myself, my working for my
+family will be equally prevented."
+
+"Alas! that is true," said the poor girl; "what is to be done! Oh, what
+is to be done?"
+
+"My brave father," said Agricola to himself, "if this misfortune happen
+to-morrow, what an awakening it will be for him, who came here to sleep
+so joyously!" The blacksmith buried his face in his hands.
+
+Unhappily Mother Bunch's fears were too well-founded, for it will be
+recollected that at that epoch of the year 1832, before and after the Rue
+des Prouvaires conspiracy, a very great number of arrests had been made
+among the working classes, in consequence of a violent reaction against
+democratical ideas.
+
+Suddenly, the girl broke the silence which had been maintained for some
+seconds. A blush  her features, which bore the impressions of an
+indefinable expression of constraint, grief, and hope.
+
+"Agricola, you are saved!"
+
+"What say you?" he asked.
+
+"The young lady, so beautiful, so good, who gave you this flower" (she
+showed it to the blacksmith) "who has known how to make reparation with
+so much delicacy for having made a painful offer, cannot but have a
+generous heart. You must apply to her--"
+
+With these words which seemed to be wrung from her by a violent effort
+over herself, great tears rolled down her cheeks. For the first time in
+her life she experienced a feeling of grievous jealousy. Another woman
+was so happy as to have the power of coming to the relief of him whom she
+idolized; while she herself, poor creature, was powerless and wretched.
+
+"Do you think so?" exclaimed Agricola surprised. "But what could be done
+with this young lady?"
+
+"Did she not say to you," answered Mother Bunch, "'Remember my name; and
+in all circumstances address yourself to me?'"
+
+"She did indeed!" replied Agricola.
+
+"This young lady, in her exalted position, ought to have powerful
+connections who will be able to protect and defend you. Go to her to
+morrow morning; tell her frankly what has happened, and request her
+support."
+
+"But tell me, my good sister, what it is you wish me to do?"
+
+"Listen. I remember that, in former times, my father told us that he had
+saved one of his friends from being put in prison, by becoming surety for
+him. It will be easy for you so to convince this young lady of your
+innocence, that she will be induced to become surety; and after that, you
+will have nothing more to fear."
+
+"My poor child!" said Agricola, "to ask so great a service from a person
+to whom one is almost unknown is hard."
+
+"Believe me, Agricola," said the other sadly, "I would never counsel what
+could possibly lower you in the eyes of any one, and above all--do you
+understand?--above all, in the eyes of this young lady. I do not propose
+that you should ask money from her; but only that she should give surety
+for you, in order that you may have the liberty of continuing at your
+employment, so that the family may not be without resources. Believe me,
+Agricola, that such a request is in no respect inconsistent with what is
+noble and becoming upon your part. The heart of the young lady is
+generous. She will comprehend your position. The required surety will be
+as nothing to her; while to you it will be everything, and will even be
+the very life to those who depend upon you."
+
+"You are right, my good sister," said Agricola, with sadness and
+dejection. "It is perhaps worth while to risk taking this step. If the
+young lady consent to render me this service, and if giving surety will
+indeed preserve me from prison, I shall be prepared for every event. But
+no, no!" added he, rising, "I'd never dare to make the request to her!
+What right have I to do so? What is the insignificant service that I
+rendered her, when compared with that which I should solicit from her?"
+
+"Do you imagine then, Agricola, that a generous spirit measures the
+services which ought to be rendered, by those previously received? Trust
+to me respecting a matter which is an affair of the heart. I am, it is
+true, but a lowly creature, and ought not to compare myself with any
+other person. I am nothing, and I can do nothing. Nevertheless, I am
+sure--yes, Agricola, I am sure--that this young lady, who is so very far
+above me, will experience the same feelings that I do in this affair;
+yes, like me, she will at once comprehend that your position is a cruel
+one; and she will do with joy, with happiness, with thankfulness, that
+which I would do, if, alas! I could do anything more than uselessly
+consume myself with regrets."
+
+In spite of herself, she pronounced the last words with an expression so
+heart-breaking--there was something so moving in the comparison which
+this unfortunate creature, obscure and disdained, infirm and miserable,
+made of herself with Adrienne de Cardoville, the very type of resplendent
+youth, beauty, and opulence--that Agricola was moved even to tears; and,
+holding out one of his hands to the speaker, he said to her, tenderly,
+"How very good you are; how full of nobleness, good feeling, and
+delicacy!"
+
+"Unhappily," said the weeping girl, "I can do nothing more than advise."
+
+"And your counsels shall be followed out, my sister dear. They are those
+of a soul the most elevated I have ever known. Yes, you have won me over
+into making this experiment, by persuading me that the heart of Miss de
+Cardoville is perhaps equal in value to your own!"
+
+At this charming and sincere assimilation of herself to Miss Adrienne,
+the sempstress forgot almost everything she had suffered, so exquisitely
+sweet and consoling were her emotions. If some poor creatures, fatally
+devoted to sufferings, experience griefs of which the world knows naught,
+they sometimes, too, are cheered by humble and timid joys, of which the
+world is equally ignorant. The least word of true tenderness and
+affection, which elevates them in their own estimation, is ineffably
+blissful for these unfortunate beings, habitually consigned, not only to
+hardships and to disdain, but even to desolating doubts, and distrust of
+themselves.
+
+"Then it is agreed that you will go, to-morrow morning to this young
+lady's house?" exclaimed Mother Bunch, trembling with a new-born hope.
+"And," she quickly added, "at break of day I'll go down to watch at the
+street-door, to see if there be anything suspicious, and to apprise you
+of what I perceive."
+
+"Good, excellent girl!" exclaimed Agricola, with increasing emotion.
+
+"It will be necessary to endeavor to set off before the wakening of your
+father," said the hunchback. "The quarter in which the young lady dwells,
+is so deserted, that the mere going there will almost serve for your
+present concealment."
+
+"I think I hear the voice of my father," said Agricola suddenly.
+
+In truth, the little apartment was so near Agricola's garret, that he and
+the sempstress, listening, heard Dagobert say in the dark:
+
+"Agricola, is it thus that you sleep, my boy? Why, my first sleep is
+over; and my tongue itches deucedly."
+
+"Go quick, Agricola!" said Mother Bunch; "your absence would disquiet
+him. On no account go out to-morrow morning, before I inform you whether
+or not I shall have seen anything suspicious."
+
+"Why, Agricola, you are not here?" resumed Dagobert, in a louder voice.
+
+"Here I am, father," said the smith, while going out of the sempstress's
+apartment, and entering the garret, to his father.
+
+"I have been to fasten the shutter of a loft that the wind agitated, lest
+its noise should disturb you."
+
+"Thanks, my boy; but it is not noise that wakes me," said Dagobert,
+gayly; "it is an appetite, quite furious, for a chat with you. Oh, my
+dear boy, it is the hungering of a proud old man of a father, who has not
+seen his son for eighteen years."
+
+"Shall I light a candle, father?"
+
+"No, no; that would be luxurious; let us chat in the dark. It will be a
+new pleasure for me to see you to-morrow morning at daybreak. It will be
+like seeing you for the first time twice." The door of Agricola's garret
+being now closed, Mother Bunch heard nothing more.
+
+The poor girl, without undressing, threw herself upon the bed, and closed
+not an eye during the night, painfully awaiting the appearance of day, in
+order that she might watch over the safety of Agricola. However, in spite
+of her vivid anxieties for the morrow, she sometimes allowed herself to
+sink into the reveries of a bitter melancholy. She compared the
+conversation she had just had in the silence of night, with the man whom
+she secretly adored, with what that conversation might have been, had she
+possessed some share of charms and beauty--had she been loved as she
+loved, with a chaste and devoted flame! But soon sinking into belief that
+she should never know the ravishing sweets of a mutual passion, she found
+consolation in the hope of being useful to Agricola. At the dawn of day,
+she rose softly, and descended the staircase with little noise, in order
+to see if anything menaced Agricola from without.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+THE AWAKENING.
+
+The weather, damp and foggy during a portion of the night, became clear
+and cold towards morning. Through the glazed skylight of Agricola's
+garret, where he lay with his father, a corner of the blue sky could be
+seen.
+
+The apartment of the young blacksmith had an aspect as poor as the
+sewing-girl's. For its sole ornament, over the deal table upon which
+Agricola wrote his poetical inspirations, there hung suspended from a
+nail in the wall a portrait of Beranger--that immortal poet whom the
+people revere and cherish, because his rare and transcendent genius has
+delighted to enlighten the people, and to sing their glories and their
+reverses.
+
+Although the day had only begun to dawn, Dagobert and Agricola had
+already risen. The latter had sufficient self command to conceal his
+inquietude, for renewed reflection had again increased his fears.
+
+The recent outbreak in the Rue des Prouvaires had caused a great number
+of precautionary arrests; and the discovery of numerous copies of
+Agricola's song, in the possession of one of the chiefs of the
+disconcerted plot, was, in truth, calculated slightly to compromise the
+young blacksmith. His father, however, as we have already mentioned,
+suspected not his secret anguish. Seated by the side of his son, upon the
+edge of their mean little bed, the old soldier, by break of day, had
+dressed and shaved with military care; he now held between his hands both
+those of Agricola, his countenance radiant with joy, and unable to
+discontinue the contemplation of his boy.
+
+"You will laugh at me, my dear boy," said Dagobert to his son; "but I
+wished the night to the devil, in order that I might gaze upon you in
+full day, as I now see you. But all in good time; I have lost nothing.
+Here is another silliness of mine; it delights me to see you wear
+moustaches. What a splendid horse-grenadier you would have made! Tell me;
+have you never had a wish to be a soldier?"
+
+"I thought of mother!"
+
+"That's right," said Dagobert: "and besides, I believe, after all, look
+ye, that the time of the sword has gone by. We old fellows are now good
+for nothing, but to be put in a corner of the chimney. Like rusty old
+carbines, we have had our day."
+
+"Yes; your days of heroism and of glory," said Agricola with excitement;
+and then he added, with a voice profoundly softened and agitated, "it is
+something good and cheering to be your son!"
+
+"As to the good, I know nothing of that," replied Dagobert; "but as for
+the cheering, it ought to be so; for I love you proudly. And I think this
+is but the beginning! What say you, Agricola? I am like the famished
+wretches who have been some days without food. It is but by little and
+little that they recover themselves, and can eat. Now, you may expect to
+be tasted, my boy, morning and evening, and devoured during the day. No,
+I wish not to think that--not all the day--no, that thought dazzles and
+perplexes me; and I am no longer myself."
+
+These words of Dagobert caused a painful feeling to Agricola. He believed
+that they sprang from a presentiment of the separation with which he was
+menaced.
+
+"Well," continued Dagobert; "you are quite happy; M. Hardy is always good
+to you."
+
+"Oh!" replied Agricola: "there is none in the world better, or more
+equitable and generous! If you knew what wonders he has brought about in
+his factory! Compared to all others, it is a paradise beside the stithies
+of Lucifer!"
+
+"Indeed!" said Dagobert.
+
+"You shall see," resumed Agricola, "what welfare, what joy, what
+affection, are displayed upon the countenances of all whom he employs;
+who work with an ardent pleasure.
+
+"This M. Hardy of yours must be an out-and-out magician," said Dagobert.
+
+"He is, father, a very great magician. He has known how to render labor
+pleasant and attractive. As for the pleasure, over and above good wages,
+he accords to us a portion of his profits according to our deserts;
+whence you may judge of the eagerness with which we go to work. And that
+is not all: he has caused large, handsome buildings to be erected, in
+which all his workpeople find, at less expense than elsewhere, cheerful
+and salubrious lodgings, in which they enjoy all the advantages of an
+association. But you shall see--I repeat--you shall see!"
+
+"They have good reason to say, that Paris is the region of wonders,"
+observed Dagobert.
+
+"Well, behold me here again at last, never more to quit you, nor good
+mother!"
+
+"No, father, we will never separate again," said Agricola, stifling a
+sigh. "My mother and I will both try to make you forget all that you have
+suffered."
+
+"Suffered!" exclaimed Dagobert, "who the deuce has suffered? Look me well
+in the face; and see if I have a look of suffering! Bombs and bayonets!
+Since I have put my foot here, I feel myself quite a young man again! You
+shall see me march soon: I bet that I tire you out! You must rig yourself
+up something extra! Lord, how they will stare at us! I wager that in
+beholding your black moustache and my gray one, folks will say, behold
+father and son! But let us settle what we are to do with the day. You
+will write to the father of Marshal Simon, informing him the his
+grand-daughters have arrived, and that it is necessary that he should
+hasten his return to Paris; for he has charged himself with matters which
+are of great importance for them. While you are writing, I will go down
+to say good-morning to my wife, and to the dear little ones. We will then
+eat a morsel. Your mother will go to mass; for I perceive that she likes
+to be regular at that: the good soul! no great harm, if it amuse her! and
+during her absence, we will make a raid together."
+
+"Father," said Agricola, with embarrassment, "this morning it is out of
+my power to accompany you."
+
+"How! out of your power?" said Dagobert; "recollect this is Monday!"
+
+"Yes, father," said Agricola, hesitatingly; "but I have promised to
+attend all the morning in the workshop, to finish a job that is required
+in a hurry. If I fail to do so, I shall inflict some injury upon M.
+Hardy. But I'll soon be at liberty."
+
+"That alters the case," said Dagobert, with a sigh of regret. "I thought
+to make my first parade through Paris with you this morning; but it must
+be deferred in favor of your work. It is sacred: since it is that which
+sustains your mother. Nevertheless, it is vexatious, devilish vexatious.
+And yet no--I am unjust. See how quickly one gets habituated to and
+spoilt by happiness. I growl like a true grumbler, at a walk being put
+off for a few hours! I do this! I who, during eighteen years, have only
+hoped to see you once more, without daring to reckon very much upon it!
+Oh! I am but a silly old fool! Vive l'amour et cogni--I mean--my
+Agricola!" And, to console himself, the old soldier gayly slapped his
+son's shoulder.
+
+This seemed another omen of evil to the blacksmith; for he dreaded one
+moment to another lest the fears of Mother Bunch should be realized. "Now
+that I have recovered myself," said Dagobert, laughing, "let us speak of
+business. Know you where I find the addresses of all the notaries in
+Paris?"
+
+"I don't know; but nothing is more easy than to discover it."
+
+"My reason is," resumed Dagobert, "that I sent from Russia by post, and
+by order of the mother of the two children that I have brought here, some
+important papers to a Parisian notary. As it was my duty to see this
+notary immediately upon my arrival, I had written his name and his
+address in a portfolio, of which however, I have been robbed during my
+journey; and as I have forgotten his devil of a name, it seems to me,
+that if I should see it again in the list of notaries, I might recollect
+it."
+
+Two knocks at the door of the garret made Agricola start. He
+involuntarily thought of a warrant for his apprehension.
+
+His father, who, at the sound of the knocking turned round his head, had
+not perceived his emotion, and said with a loud voice: "Come in!" The
+door opened. It was Gabriel. He wore a black cassock and a broad brimmed
+hat.
+
+To recognize his brother by adoption, and to throw himself into his arms,
+were two movements performed at once by Agricola--as quick as
+thought.--"My brother!" exclaimed Agricola.
+
+"Agricola!" cried Gabriel.
+
+"Gabriel!" responded the blacksmith.
+
+"After so long an absence!" said the one.
+
+"To behold you again!" rejoined the other.
+
+Such were the words exchanged between the blacksmith and the missionary,
+while they were locked in a close embrace.
+
+Dagobert, moved and charmed by these fraternal endearments, felt his eyes
+become moist. There was something truly touching in the affection of the
+young men--in their hearts so much alike, and yet of characters and
+aspects so very different--for the manly countenance of Agricola
+contrasted strongly with the delicacy and angelic physiognomy of Gabriel.
+
+"I was forewarned by my father of your arrival," said the blacksmith at
+length. "I have been expecting to see you; and my happiness has been a
+hundred times the greater, because I have had all the pleasures of hoping
+for it."
+
+"And my good mother?" asked Gabriel, in affectionately grasping the hands
+of Dagobert. "I trust that you have found her in good health."
+
+"Yes, my brave boy!" replied Dagobert; "and her health will have become a
+hundred times better, now that we are all together. Nothing is so
+healthful as joy." Then addressing himself to Agricola, who, forgetting
+his fear of being arrested, regarded the missionary with an expression of
+ineffable affection, Dagobert added:
+
+"Let it be remembered, that, with the soft cheek of a young girl, Gabriel
+has the courage of a lion; I have already told with what intrepidity he
+saved the lives of Marshal Simon's daughters, and tried to save mine
+also."
+
+"But, Gabriel! what has happened to your forehead?" suddenly exclaimed
+Agricola, who for a few seconds had been attentively examining the
+missionary.
+
+Gabriel, having thrown aside his hat on entering, was now directly
+beneath the skylight of the garret apartment, the bright light through
+which shone upon his sweet, pale countenance: and the round scar, which
+extended from one eyebrow to the other, was therefore distinctly visible.
+
+In the midst of the powerful and diversified emotion, and of the exciting
+events which so rapidly followed the shipwreck on the rocky coast near
+Cardoville House, Dagobert, during the short interview he then had with
+Gabriel, had not perceived the scar which seamed the forehead of the
+young missionary. Now, partaking, however, of the surprise of his son,
+Dagobert said:
+
+"Aye, indeed! how came this scar upon your brow?"
+
+"And on his hands, too; see, dear father!" exclaimed the blacksmith, with
+renewed surprise, while he seized one of the hands which the young priest
+held out towards him in order to tranquillize his fears.
+
+"Gabriel, my brave boy, explain this to us!" added Dagobert; "who has
+wounded you thus?" and in his turn, taking the other hand of the
+missionary, he examined the scar upon it with the eye of a judge of
+wounds, and then added, "In Spain, one of my comrades was found and taken
+down alive from a cross, erected at the junction of several roads, upon
+which the monks had crucified, and left him to die of hunger, thirst, and
+agony. Ever afterwards he bore scars upon his hands, exactly similar to
+this upon your hand."
+
+"My father is right!" exclaimed Agricola. "It is evident that your hands
+have been pierced through! My poor brother!" and Agricola became
+grievously agitated.
+
+"Do not think about it," said Gabriel, reddening with the embarrassment
+of modesty. "Having gone as a missionary amongst the savages of the Rocky
+Mountains, they crucified me, and they had begun to scalp me, when
+Providence snatched me from their hands."
+
+"Unfortunate youth," said Dagobert; "without arms then? You had not a
+sufficient escort for your protection?"
+
+"It is not for such as me to carry arms." said Gabriel, sweetly smiling;
+"and we are never accompanied by any escort."
+
+"Well, but your companions, those who were along with you, how came it
+that they did not defend you?" impetuously asked Agricola.
+
+"I was alone, my dear brother."
+
+"Alone!"
+
+"Yes, alone; without even a guide."
+
+"You alone! unarmed! in a barbarous country!" exclaimed Dagobert,
+scarcely crediting a step so unmilitary, and almost distrusting his own
+sense of hearing.
+
+"It was sublime!" said the young blacksmith and poet.
+
+"The Christian faith," said Gabriel, with mild simplicity, "cannot be
+implanted by force or violence. It is only by the power of persuasion
+that the gospel can be spread amongst poor savages."
+
+"But when persuasions fail!" said Agricola.
+
+"Why, then, dear brother, one has but to die for the belief that is in
+him, pitying those who have rejected it, and who have refused the
+blessings it offers to mankind."
+
+There was a period of profound silence after the reply of Gabriel, which
+was uttered with simple and touching pathos.
+
+Dagobert was in his own nature too courageous not to comprehend a heroism
+thus calm and resigned; and the old soldier, as well as his son, now
+contemplated Gabriel with the most earnest feelings of mingled admiration
+and respect.
+
+Gabriel, entirely free from the affection of false modesty, seemed quite
+unconscious of the emotions which he had excited in the breasts of his
+two friends; and he therefore said to Dagobert, "What ails you?"
+
+"What ails me!" exclaimed the brave old soldier, with great emotion:
+"After having been for thirty years in the wars, I had imagined myself to
+be about as courageous as any man. And now I find I have a master! And
+that master is yourself!"
+
+"I!" said Gabriel; "what do you mean? What have I done?"
+
+"Thunder, don't you know that the brave wounds there" (the veteran took
+with transport both of Gabriel's hands), "that these wounds are as
+glorious--are more glorious than our--than all ours, as warriors by
+profession!"
+
+"Yes! yes, my father speaks truth!" exclaimed Agricola; and he added,
+with enthusiasm, "Oh, for such priests! How I love them! How I venerate
+them! How I am elevated by their charity, their courage, their
+resignation!"
+
+"I entreat you not to extol me thus," said Gabriel with embarrassment.
+
+"Not extol you!" replied Dagobert. "Hanged if I shouldn't. When I have
+gone into the heat of action, did I rush into it alone? Was I not under
+the eyes of my commanding officer? Were not my comrades there along with
+me? In default of true courage, had I not the instinct of self
+preservation to spur me on, without reckoning the excitement of the
+shouts and tumult of battle, the smell of the gunpowder, the flourishes
+of the trumpets, the thundering of the cannon, the ardor of my horse,
+which bounded beneath me as if the devil were at his tail? Need I state
+that I also knew that the emperor was present, with his eye upon every
+one--the emperor, who, in recompense for a hole being made in my tough
+hide, would give me a bit of lace or a ribbon, as plaster for the wound.
+Thanks to all these causes, I passed for game. Fair enough! But are you
+not a thousand times more game than I, my brave boy; going alone,
+unarmed, to confront enemies a hundred times more ferocious than those
+whom we attacked--we, who fought in whole squadrons, supported by
+artillery, bomb-shells, and case-shot?"
+
+"Excellent father!" cried Agricola, "how noble of you to render to
+Gabriel this justice!"
+
+"Oh, dear brother," said Gabriel, "his kindness to me makes him magnify
+what was quite natural and simple!"
+
+"Natural!" said the veteran soldier; "yes, natural for gallants who have
+hearts of the true temper: but that temper is rare."
+
+"Oh, yes, very rare," said Agricola; "for that kind of courage is the
+most admirable of all. Most bravely did you seek almost certain death,
+alone, bearing the cross in hand as your only weapon, to preach charity
+and Christian brotherhood. They seized you, tortured you; and you await
+death and partly endure it, without complaint, without remonstrance,
+without hatred, without anger, without a wish for vengeance; forgiveness
+issuing from your mouth, and a smile of pity beaming upon your lips; and
+this in the depths of forests, where no one could witness your
+magnanimity,--none could behold you--and without other desire, after you
+were rescued than modestly to conceal blessed wounds under your black
+robe! My father is right, by Jove! can you still contend that you are not
+as brave as he?"
+
+"And besides, too," resumed Dagobert, "the dear boy did all that for a
+thankless paymaster; for it is true, Agricola, that his wounds will never
+change his humble black robe of a priest into the rich robe of a bishop!"
+
+"I am not so disinterested as I may seem to be," said Gabriel to
+Dagobert, smiling meekly. "If I am deemed worthy, a great recompense
+awaits me on high."
+
+"As to all that, my boy," said Dagobert, "I do not understand it; and I
+will not argue about it. I maintain it, that my old cross of honor would
+be at least as deservedly affixed to your cassock as upon my uniform."
+
+"But these recompenses are never conferred upon humble priests like
+Gabriel," said Agricola, "and if you did know, dear father, how much
+virtue and valor is among those whom the highest orders in the priesthood
+insolently call the inferior clergy,--the unseen merit and the blind
+devotedness to be found amongst worthy, but obscure, country curates, who
+are inhumanly treated and subjugated to a pitiless yoke by the lordly
+lawnsleeves! Like us, those poor priests are worthy laborers in their
+vocation; and for them, also, all generous hearts ought to demand
+enfranchisement! Sons of common people, like ourselves, and useful as we
+are, justice ought to be rendered both to them and to us. Do I say right,
+Gabriel? You will not contradict it; for you have told me, that your
+ambition would have been to obtain a small country curacy; because you
+understand the good that you could work within it."
+
+"My desire is still the same," said Gabriel sadly: "but unfortunately--"
+and then, as if he wished to escape from a painful thought, and to change
+the conversation, he, addressing himself to Dagobert, added: "Believe me:
+be more just than to undervalue your own courage by exalting mine. Your
+courage must be very great--very great; for, after a battle, the
+spectacle of the carnage must be truly terrible to a generous and feeling
+heart. We, at least, though we may be killed, do not kill."
+
+At these words of the missionary, the soldier drew himself up erect,
+looked upon Gabriel with astonishment, and said, "This is most
+surprising!"
+
+"What is?" inquired Agricola.
+
+"What Gabriel has just told us," replied Dagobert, "brings to my mind
+what I experienced in warfare on the battlefield in proportion as I
+advanced in years. Listen, my children: more than once, on the night
+after a general engagement, I have been mounted as a vidette,--alone,--by
+night,--amid the moonlight, on the field of battle which remained in our
+possession, and upon which lay the bodies of seven or eight thousand of
+the slain, amongst whom were mingled the slaughtered remains of some of
+my old comrades: and then this sad scene, when the profound silence has
+restored me to my senses from the thirst for bloodshed and the delirious
+whirling of my sword (intoxicated like the rest), I have said to myself,
+'for what have these men been killed?--FOR WHAT--FOR WHAT?' But this
+feeling, well understood as it was, hindered me not, on the following
+morning, when the trumpets again sounded the charge, from rushing once
+more to the slaughter. But the same thought always recurred when my arm
+became weary with carnage; and after wiping my sabre upon the mane of my
+horse, I have said to myself, 'I have killed!--killed!!--killed!!! and,
+FOR WHAT!!!'"
+
+The missionary and the blacksmith exchanged looks on hearing the old
+soldier give utterance to this singular retrospection of the past.
+
+"Alas!" said Gabriel to him, "all generous hearts feel as you did during
+the solemn moments, when the intoxication of glory has subsided, and man
+is left alone to the influence of the good instincts planted in his
+bosom."
+
+"And that should prove, my brave boy," rejoined Dagobert, "that you are
+greatly better than I; for those noble instincts, as you call them, have
+never abandoned you. * * * * But how the deuce did you escape from the
+claws of the infuriated savages who had already crucified you?"
+
+At this question of Dagobert, Gabriel started and reddened so visibly,
+that the soldier said to him: "If you ought not or cannot answer my
+request, let us say no more about it."
+
+"I have nothing to conceal, either from you or from my brother," replied
+the missionary with altered voice. "Only; it will be difficult for me to
+make you comprehend what I cannot comprehend myself."
+
+"How is that?" asked Agricola with surprise.
+
+"Surely," said Gabriel, reddening more deeply, "I must have been deceived
+by a fallacy of my senses, during that abstracted moment in which I
+awaited death with resignation. My enfeebled mind, in spite of me, must
+have been cheated by an illusion; or that, which to the present hour has
+remained inexplicable, would have been more slowly developed; and I
+should have known with greater certainty that it was the strange woman--"
+
+Dagobert, while listening to the missionary, was perfectly amazed; for he
+also had vainly tried to account for the unexpected succor which had
+freed him and the two orphans from the prison at Leipsic.
+
+"Of what woman do you speak?" asked Agricola.
+
+"Of her who saved me," was the reply.
+
+"A woman saved you from the hands of the savages?" said Dagobert.
+
+"Yes," replied Gabriel, though absorbed in his reflections, "a woman,
+young and beautiful!"
+
+"And who was this woman?" asked Agricola.
+
+"I know not. When I asked her, she replied, 'I am the sister of the
+distressed!'"
+
+"And whence came she? Whither went she?" asked Dagobert, singularly
+interested.
+
+"'I go wheresoever there is suffering,' she replied," answered
+the missionary; "and she departed, going towards the north of
+America--towards those desolate regions in which there is eternal snow,
+where the nights are without end."
+
+"As in Siberia," said Dagobert, who had become very thoughtful.
+
+"But," resumed Agricola, addressing himself to Gabriel, who seemed also
+to have become more and more absorbed, "in what manner or by what means
+did this woman come to your assistance?"
+
+The missionary was about to reply to the last question, when there was
+heard a gentle tap at the door of the garret apartment, which renewed the
+fears that Agricola had forgotten since the arrival of his adopted
+brother. "Agricola," said a sweet voice outside the door, "I wish to
+speak with you as soon as possible."
+
+The blacksmith recognized Mother Bunch's voice, and opened the door. But
+the young sempstress, instead of entering, drew back into the dark
+passage, and said, with a voice of anxiety: "Agricola, it is an hour
+since broad day, and you have not yet departed! How imprudent! I have
+been watching below, in the street, until now, and have seen nothing
+alarming; but they may come any instant to arrest you. Hasten, I conjure
+you, your departure for the abode of Miss de Cardoville. Not a minute
+should be lost."
+
+"Had it not been for the arrival of Gabriel, I should have been gone. But
+I could not resist the happiness of remaining some little time with him."
+
+"Gabriel here!" said Mother Bunch, with sweet surprise; for, as has been
+stated, she had been brought up with him and Agricola.
+
+"Yes," answered Agricola, "for half an hour he has been with my father
+and me."
+
+"What happiness I shall have in seeing him again," said the sewing-girl.
+"He doubtless came upstairs while I had gone for a brief space to your
+mother, to ask if I could be useful in any way on account of the young
+ladies; but they have been so fatigued that they still sleep. Your mother
+has requested me to give you this letter for your father. She has just
+received it."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Well," resumed Mother Bunch, "now that you have seen Gabriel, do not
+delay long. Think what a blow it would be for your father, if they came
+to arrest you in his very presence mon Dieu!"
+
+"You are right," said Agricola; "it is indispensable that I should
+depart--while near Gabriel in spite of my anxiety, my fears were
+forgotten."
+
+"Go quickly, then; and if Miss de Cardoville should grant this favor,
+perhaps in a couple of hours you will return, quite at ease both as to
+yourself and us."
+
+"True! a very few minutes more; and I'll come down."
+
+"I return to watch at the door. If I perceive anything. I'll come up
+again to apprise you. But pray, do not delay."
+
+"Be easy, good sister." Mother Bunch hurriedly descended the staircase,
+to resume her watch at the street door, and Agricola re-entered his
+garret. "Dear father," he said to Dagobert, "my mother has just received
+this letter, and she requests you to read it."
+
+"Very well; read it for me, my boy." And Agricola read as follows:
+
+"MADAME.--I understand that your husband has been charged by General Simon
+with an affair of very great importance. Will you, as soon as your
+husband arrives in Paris, request him to come to my office at Chartres
+without a moment's delay. I am instructed to deliver to himself, and to
+no other person, some documents indispensable to the interests of General
+Simon.
+
+             "DURAND, Notary at Chartres."
+
+Dagobert looked at his son with astonishment, and said to him, "Who can
+have told this gentleman already of my arrival in Paris?"
+
+"Perhaps, father," said Agricola, "this is the notary to whom you
+transmitted some papers, and whose address you have lost."
+
+"But his name was not Durand; and I distinctly recollect that his address
+was Paris, not Chartres. And, besides," said the soldier, thoughtfully,
+"if he has some important documents, why didn't he transmit them to me?"
+
+"It seems to me that you ought not to neglect going to him as soon as
+possible," said Agricola, secretly rejoiced that this circumstance would
+withdraw his father for about two days, during which time his
+(Agricola's) fate would be decided in one way or other.
+
+"Your counsel is good," replied his father.
+
+"This thwarts your intentions in some degree?" asked Gabriel.
+
+"Rather, my lads; for I counted upon passing the day with you. However,
+'duty before everything.' Having come happily from Siberia to Paris, it
+is not for me to fear a journey from Paris to Chartres, when it is
+required on an affair of importance. In twice twenty-four hours I shall
+be back again. But the deuce take me if I expected to leave Paris for
+Chartres to-day. Luckily, I leave Rose and Blanche with my good wife; and
+Gabriel, their angel, as they call him, will be here to keep them
+company."
+
+"That is, unfortunately, impossible," said the missionary, sadly. "This
+visit on my arrival is also a farewell visit."
+
+"A farewell visit! Now!" exclaimed Dagobert and Agricola both at once.
+
+"Alas, yes!"
+
+"You start already on another mission?" said Dagobert; "surely it is not
+possible?"
+
+"I must answer no question upon this subject," said Gabriel, suppressing
+a sigh: "but from now, for some time, I cannot, and ought not, come again
+into this house."
+
+"Why, my brave boy," resumed Dagobert with emotion, "there is something
+in thy conduct that savors of constraint, of oppression. I know something
+of men. He you call superior, whom I saw for some moments after the
+shipwreck at Cardoville Castle, has a bad look; and I am sorry to see you
+enrolled under such a commander."
+
+"At Cardoville Castle!" exclaimed Agricola, struck with the identity of
+the name with that of the young lady of the golden hair; "was it in
+Cardoville Castle that you were received after your shipwreck?"
+
+"Yes, my boy; why, does that astonish you?" asked Dagobert.
+
+"Nothing father; but were the owners of the castle there at the time?"
+
+"No; for the steward, when I applied to him for an opportunity to return
+thanks for the kind hospitality we had experienced, informed me that the
+person to whom the house belonged was resident at Paris."
+
+"What a singular coincidence," thought Agricola, "if the young lady
+should be the proprietor of the dwelling which bears her name!"
+
+This reflection having recalled to Agricola the promise which he had made
+to Mother Bunch, he said to Dagobert; "Dear father, excuse me; but it is
+already late, and I ought to be in the workshop by eight o'clock."
+
+"That is too true, my boy. Let us go. This party is adjourned till my
+return from Chartres. Embrace me once more, and take care of yourself."
+
+Since Dagobert had spoken of constraint and oppression to Gabriel, the
+latter had continued pensive. At the moment when Agricola approached him
+to shake hands, and to bid him adieu, the missionary said to him
+solemnly, with a grave voice, and in a tone of decision that astonished
+both the blacksmith and the soldier: "My dear brother, one word more. I
+have come here to say to you also that within a few days hence I shall
+have need of you; and of you also, my father (permit me so to call you),"
+added Gabriel, with emotion, as he turned round to Dagobert.
+
+"How! you speak thus to us!" exclaimed Agricola; "what is the matter?"
+
+"Yes," replied Gabriel, "I need the advice and assistance of two men of
+honor--of two men of resolution;--and I can reckon upon you two--can I
+not? At any hour, on whatever day it may be, upon a word from me, will
+you come?"
+
+Dagobert and his son regarded each other in silence, astonished at the
+accents of the missionary. Agricola felt an oppression of the heart. If
+he should be a prisoner when his brother should require his assistance,
+what could be done?
+
+"At every hour, by night or by day, my brave boy, you may depend upon
+us," said Dagobert, as much surprised as interested--"You have a father
+and a brother; make your own use of them."
+
+"Thanks, thanks," said Gabriel, "you set me quite at ease."
+
+"I'll tell you what," resumed the soldier, "were it not for your priest's
+robe, I should believe, from the manner in which you have spoken to us,
+that you are about to be engaged in a duel--in a mortal combat."
+
+"In a duel?" said Gabriel, starting. "Yes; it may be a duel--uncommon and
+fearful--at which it is necessary to have two witnesses such as you--A
+FATHER and A BROTHER!"
+
+Some instants afterwards, Agricola, whose anxiety was continually
+increasing, set off in haste for the dwelling of Mademoiselle de
+Cardoville, to which we now beg leave to take the reader.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+THE PAVILION.
+
+Dizier House was one of the largest and handsomest in the Rue Babylone,
+in Paris. Nothing could be more severe, more imposing, or more depressing
+than the aspect of this old mansion. Several immense windows, filled with
+small squares of glass, painted a grayish white, increased the sombre
+effect of the massive layers of huge stones, blackened by time, of which
+the fabric was composed.
+
+This dwelling bore a resemblance to all the others that had been erected
+in the same quarter towards the middle of the last century. It was
+surmounted in front by a pediment; it had an elevated ground floor, which
+was reached from the outside by a circular flight of broad stone steps.
+One of the fronts looked on an immense court-yard, on each side of which
+an arcade led to the vast interior departments. The other front
+overlooked the garden, or rather park, of twelve or fifteen roods; and,
+on this side, wings, approaching the principal part of the structure,
+formed a couple of lateral galleries. Like nearly all the other great
+habitations of this quarter, there might be seen at the extremity of the
+garden, what the owners and occupiers of each called the lesser mansion.
+
+This extension was a Pompadour summer-house, built in the form of a
+rotunda, with the charming though incorrect taste of the era of its
+erection. It presented, in every part where it was possible for the
+stones to be cut, a profusion of endives, knots of ribbons, garlands of
+flowers, and chubby cupids. This pavilion, inhabited by Adrienne de
+Cardoville was composed of a ground floor, which was reached by a
+peristyle of several steps. A small vestibule led to a circular hall,
+lighted from the roof. Four principal apartments met here; and ranges of
+smaller rooms, concealed in the upper story, served for minor purposes.
+
+These dependencies of great habitations are in our days disused, or
+transformed into irregular conservatories; but by an uncommon exception,
+the black exterior of the pavilion had been scraped and renewed, and the
+entire structure repaired. The white stones of which it was built
+glistened like Parian marble; and its renovated, coquettish aspect
+contrasted singularly with the gloomy mansion seen at the other extremity
+of an extensive lawn, on which were planted here and there gigantic
+clumps of verdant trees.
+
+The following scene occurred at this residence on the morning following
+that of the arrival of Dagobert, with the daughters of Marshal Simon, in
+the Rue Brise-Miche. The hour of eight had sounded from the steeple of a
+neighboring church; a brilliant winter sun arose to brighten a pure blue
+sky behind the tall leafless trees, which in summer formed a dome of
+verdure over the summer-house. The door in the vestibule opened, and the
+rays of the morning sun beamed upon a charming creature, or rather upon
+two charming creatures, for the second one, though filling a modest place
+in the scale of creation, was not less distinguished by beauty of its
+own, which was very striking. In plain terms two individuals, one of them
+a young girl, and the other a tiny English dog, of great beauty, of that
+breed of spaniels called King Charles's, made their appearance under the
+peristyle of the rotunda. The name of the young girl was Georgette; the
+beautiful little spaniel's was Frisky. Georgette was in her eighteenth
+year. Never had Florine or Manton, never had a lady's maid of Marivaux, a
+more mischievous face, an eye more quick, a smile more roguish, teeth
+more white, cheeks more roseate, figure more coquettish, feet smaller, or
+form smarter, attractive, and enticing. Though it was yet very early,
+Georgette was carefully and tastefully dressed. A tiny Valenciennes cap,
+with flaps and flap-band, of half peasant fashion, decked with
+rose- ribbons, and stuck a little backward upon bands of beautiful
+fair hair, surrounded her fresh and piquant face; a robe of gray
+levantine, and a cambric neck-kerchief, fastened to her bosom by a large
+tuft of rose- ribbons, displayed her figure elegantly rounded; a
+hollands apron, white as snow, trimmed below by three large hems,
+surmounted by a Vandyke-row, encircled her waist, which was as round and
+flexible as a reed; her short, plain sleeves, edged with bone lace,
+allowed her plump arms to be seen, which her long Swedish gloves,
+reaching to the elbow, defended from the rigor of the cold. When
+Georgette raised the bottom of her dress, in order to descend more
+quickly the steps, she exhibited to Frisky's indifferent eyes a beautiful
+ankle, and the beginning of the plump calf of a fine leg, encased in
+white silk, and a charming little foot, in a laced half-boot of Turkish
+satin. When a blonde like Georgette sets herself to be ensnaring; when
+vivid glances sparkle from her eyes of bright yet tender blue; when a
+joyous excitement suffuses her transparent skin, she is more resistless
+for the conquest of everything before her than a brunette.
+
+This bewitching and nimble lady's-maid, who on the previous evening had
+introduced Agricola to the pavilion, was first waiting woman to the
+Honorable Miss Adrienne de Cardoville, niece of the Princess Saint
+Dizier.
+
+Frisky, so happily found and brought back by the blacksmith, uttered weak
+but joyful barks, and bounded, ran, and frolicked upon the turf. She was
+not much bigger than one's fist; her curled hair, of lustrous black,
+shone like ebony, under the broad, red satin ribbon which encircled her
+neck; her paws, fringed with long silken fur, were of a bright and fiery
+tan, as well as her muzzle, the nose of which was inconceivably pug; her
+large eyes were full of intelligence; and her curly ears so long that
+they trailed upon the ground. Georgette seemed to be as brisk and
+petulant as Frisky, and shared her sportiveness,--now scampering after
+the happy little spaniel, and now retreating, in order to be pursued upon
+the greensward in her turn. All at once, at the sight of a second person,
+who advanced with deliberate gravity, Georgette and Frisky were suddenly
+stopped in their diversion. The little King Charles, some steps in
+advance of Georgette, faithful to her name, and bold as the devil, held
+herself firmly upon her nervous paws, and fiercely awaited the coming up
+of the enemy, displaying at the same time rows of little teeth, which,
+though of ivory, were none the less pointed and sharp. The enemy
+consisted of a woman of mature age, accompanied by a very fat dog, of the
+color of coffee and milk; his tail was twisted like a corkscrew; he was
+pot-bellied; his skin was sleek; his neck was turned little to one side;
+he walked with his legs inordinately spread out, and stepped with the air
+of a doctor. His black muzzle, quarrelsome and scowling showed two fangs
+sallying forth, and turning up from the left side of the mouth, and
+altogether he had an expression singularly forbidding and vindictive.
+This disagreeable animal, a perfect type of what might be called a
+"church-goer's pug," answered to the name of "My Lord." His mistress, a
+woman of about fifty years of age, corpulent and of middle size, was
+dressed in a costume as gloomy and severe as that of Georgette was gay
+and showy. It consisted of a brown robe, a black silk mantle, and a hat
+of the same dye. The features of this woman might have been agreeable in
+her youth; and her florid cheeks, her correct eyebrows, her black eyes,
+which were still very lively, scarcely accorded with the peevish and
+austere physiognomy which she tried to assume. This matron, of slow and
+discreet gait, was Madame Augustine Grivois, first woman to the Princess
+Saint-Dizier. Not only did the age, the face, and the dress of these two
+women present a striking contrast; but the contrast extended itself even
+to the animals which attended them. There were similar differences
+between Frisky and My Lord, as between Georgette and Mrs. Grivois. When
+the latter perceived the little King Charles, she could not restrain a
+movement of surprise and repugnance, which escaped not the notice of the
+young lady's maid. Frisky, who had not retreated one inch, since the
+apparition of My Lord, regarded him valiantly, with a look of defiance,
+and even advanced towards him with an air so decidedly hostile, that the
+cur, though thrice as big as the little King Charles, uttered a howl of
+distress and terror, and sought refuge behind Mrs. Grivois, who bitterly
+said to Georgette:
+
+"It seems to me, miss, that you might dispense with exciting your dog
+thus, and setting him upon mine."
+
+"It was doubtless for the purpose of protecting this respectable but ugly
+animal from similar alarms, that you tried to make us lose Frisky
+yesterday, by driving her into the street through the little garden gate.
+But fortunately an honest young man found Frisky in the Rue de Babylone,
+and brought her back to my mistress. However," continued Georgette, "to
+what, madame, do I owe the pleasure of seeing you this morning?"
+
+"I am commanded by the Princess," replied Mrs. Grivois, unable to conceal
+a smile of triumphant satisfaction, "immediately to see Miss Adrienne. It
+regards a very important affair, which I am to communicate only to
+herself."
+
+At these words Georgette became purple, and could not repress a slight
+start of disquietude, which happily escaped Grivois, who was occupied
+with watching over the safety of her pet, whom Frisky continued to snarl
+at with a very menacing aspect; and Georgette, having quickly overcome
+her temporary emotion, firmly answered: "Miss Adrienne went to rest very
+late last night. She has forbidden me to enter her apartment before mid
+day."
+
+"That is very possible: but as the present business is to obey an order
+of the Princess her aunt, you will do well if you please, miss, to awaken
+your mistress immediately."
+
+"My mistress is subject to no one's orders in her own house; and I will
+not disturb her till mid-day, in pursuance of her commands," replied
+Georgette.
+
+"Then I shall go myself," said Mrs. Grivois.
+
+"Florine and Hebe will not admit you. Indeed, here is the key of the
+saloon; and through the saloon only can the apartments of Miss Adrienne
+be entered."
+
+"How! do you dare refuse me permission to execute the orders of the
+Princess?"
+
+"Yes; I dare to commit the great crime of being unwilling to awaken my
+mistress!"
+
+"Ah! such are the results of the blind affection of the Princess for her
+niece," said the matron, with affected grief: "Miss Adrienne no longer
+respects her aunt's orders; and she is surrounded by young hare-brained
+persons, who, from the first dawn of morning, dress themselves out as if
+for ball-going."
+
+"Oh, madame! how came you to revile dress, who were formerly the greatest
+coquette and the most frisky and fluttering of all the Princess's women.
+At least, that is what is still spoken of you in the hotel, as having
+been handed down from time out of mind, by generation to generation, even
+unto ours!"
+
+"How! from generation to generation! do you mean to insinuate that I am a
+hundred years old, Miss Impertinence?"
+
+"I speak of the generations of waiting-women; for, except you, it is the
+utmost if they remain two or three years in the Princess's house, who has
+too many tempers for the poor girls!"
+
+"I forbid you to speak thus of my mistress, whose name some people ought
+not to pronounce but on their knees."
+
+"However," said Georgette, "if one wished to speak ill of--"
+
+"Do you dare!"
+
+"No longer ago than last night, at half past eleven o'clock--"
+
+"Last night?"
+
+"A four-wheeler," continued Georgette, "stopped at a few paces from the
+house. A mysterious personage, wrapped up in a cloak, alighted from it,
+and directly tapped, not at the door, but on the glass of the porter's
+lodge window; and at one o'clock in the morning, the cab was still
+stationed in the street, waiting for the mysterious personage in the
+cloak, who, doubtless, during all that time, was, as you say, pronouncing
+the name of her Highness the Princess on his knees."
+
+Whether Mrs. Grivois had not been instructed as to a visit made to the
+Princess Saint-Dizier by Rodin (for he was the man in the cloak), in the
+middle of the night, after he had become certain of the arrival in Paris
+of General Simon's daughters; or whether Mrs. Grivois thought it
+necessary to appear ignorant of the visit, she replied, shrugging her
+shoulders disdainfully: "I know not what you, mean, madame. I have not
+come here to listen to your impertinent stuff. Once again I ask you--will
+you, or will you not, introduce me to the presence of Miss Adrienne?"
+
+"I repeat, madame, that my mistress sleeps, and that she has forbidden me
+to enter her bed-chamber before mid-day."
+
+This conversation took place at some distance from the summer-house, at a
+spot from which the peristyle could be seen at the end of a grand avenue,
+terminating in trees arranged in form of a V. All at once Mrs. Grivois,
+extending her hand in that direction, exclaimed: "Great heavens! is it
+possible? what have I seen?"
+
+"What have you seen?" said Georgette, turning round.
+
+"What have I seen?" repeated Mrs. Grivois, with amazement.
+
+"Yes: what was it?"
+
+"Miss Adrienne."
+
+"Where?" asked Georgette.
+
+"I saw her run up the porch steps. I perfectly recognized her by her
+gait, by her hat, and by her mantle. To come home at eight o'clock in the
+morning!" cried Mrs. Grivois: "it is perfectly incredible!"
+
+"See my lady? Why, you came to see her!" and Georgette burst out into
+fits of laughter: and then said: "Oh! I understand! you wish to out-do my
+story of the four-wheeler last night! It is very neat of you!"
+
+"I repeat," said Mrs. Grivois, "that I have this moment seen--"
+
+"Oh! adone, Mrs. Grivois: if you speak seriously, you are mad!"
+
+"I am mad, am I? because I have a pair of good eyes! The little gate that
+open's on the street lets one into the quincunx near the pavilion. It is
+by that door, doubtless, that mademoiselle has re-entered. Oh, what
+shameful conduct! what will the Princess say to it! Ah! her presentiments
+have not yet been mistaken. See to what her weak indulgence of her
+niece's caprices has led her! It is monstrous!--so monstrous, that,
+though I have seen her with my own eyes, still I can scarcely believe
+it!"
+
+"Since you've gone so far, ma'am, I now insist upon conducting you into
+the apartment of my lady, in order that you may convince yourself, by
+your own senses, that your eyes have deceived you!"
+
+"Oh, you are very cunning, my dear, but not more cunning than I! You
+propose my going now! Yes, yes, I believe you: you are certain that by
+this time I shall find her in her apartment!"
+
+"But, madame, I assure you--"
+
+"All that I can say to you is this: that neither you, nor Florine, nor
+Hebe, shall remain here twenty-four hours. The Princess will put an end
+to this horrible scandal; for I shall immediately inform her of what has
+passed. To go out in the night! Re-enter at eight o'clock in the morning!
+Why, I am all in a whirl! Certainly, if I had not seen it with my own
+eyes, I could not have believed it! Still, it is only what was to be
+expected. It will astonish nobody. Assuredly not! All those to whom I am
+going to relate it, will say, I am quite sure, that it is not at all
+astonishing! Oh! what a blow to our respectable Princess! What a blow for
+her!"
+
+Mrs. Grivois returned precipitately towards the mansion, followed by her
+fat pug, who appeared to be as embittered as herself.
+
+Georgette, active and light, ran, on her part, towards the pavilion, in
+order to apprise Miss de Cardoville that Mrs. Grivois had seen her, or
+fancied she had seen her, furtively enter by the little garden gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+ADRIENNE AT HER TOILET.
+
+About an hour had elapsed since Mrs. Grivois had seen or pretended to
+have seen Adrienne de Cardoville re-enter in the morning the extension of
+Saint-Dizier House.
+
+It is for the purpose, not of excusing, but of rendering intelligible,
+the following scenes, that it is deemed necessary to bring out into the
+light some striking peculiarities in the truly original character of Miss
+de Cardoville.
+
+This originality consisted in an excessive independence of mind, joined
+to a natural horror of whatsoever is repulsive or deformed, and to an
+insatiable desire of being surrounded by everything attractive and
+beautiful. The painter most delighted with coloring and beauty, the
+sculptor most charmed by proportions of form, feel not more than Adrienne
+did the noble enthusiasm which the view of perfect beauty always excites
+in the chosen favorites of nature.
+
+And it was not only the pleasures of sight which this young lady loved to
+gratify: the harmonious modulations of song, the melody of instruments,
+the cadences of poetry, afforded her infinite pleasures; while a harsh
+voice or a discordant noise made her feel the same painful impression, or
+one nearly as painful as that which she involuntarily experienced from
+the sight of a hideous object. Passionately fond of flowers, too, and of
+their sweet scents, there are some perfumes which she enjoyed equally
+with the delights of music or those of plastic beauty. It is necessary,
+alas, to acknowledge one enormity: Adrienne was dainty in her food! She
+valued more than any one else the fresh pulp of handsome fruit, the
+delicate savor of a golden pheasant, cooked to a turn, and the odorous
+cluster of a generous vine.
+
+But Adrienne enjoyed all these pleasures with an exquisite reserve. She
+sought religiously to cultivate and refine the senses given her. She
+would have deemed it black ingratitude to blunt those divine gifts by
+excesses, or to debase them by unworthy selections of objects upon which
+to exercise them; a fault from which, indeed, she was preserved by the
+excessive and imperious delicacy of her taste.
+
+The BEAUTIFUL and the UGLY occupied for her the places which GOOD and
+EVIL holds for others.
+
+Her devotion to grace, elegance, and physical beauty, had led her also to
+the adoration of moral beauty; for if the expression of a low and bad
+passion render uncomely the most beautiful countenances, those which are
+in themselves the most ugly are ennobled, on the contrary, by the
+expression of good feelings and generous sentiments.
+
+In a word, Adrienne was the most complete, the most ideal personification
+of SENSUALITY--not of vulgar, ignorant, non intelligent, mistaken
+sensuousness which is always deceit ful and corrupted by habit or by the
+necessity for gross and ill-regulated enjoyments, but that exquisite
+sensuality which is to the senses what intelligence is to the soul.
+
+The independence of this young lady's character was extreme. Certain
+humiliating subjections imposed upon her success by its social position,
+above all things were revolting to her, and she had the hardihood to
+resolve to withdraw herself from them. She was a woman, the most womanish
+that it is possible to imagine--a woman in her timidity as well as in her
+audacity--a woman in her hatred of the brutal despotism of men, as well
+as in her intense disposition to self-devoting herself, madly even and
+blindly, to him who should merit such a devotion from her--a woman whose
+piquant wit was occasionally paradoxical--a superior woman, in brief, who
+entertained a well-grounded disdain and contempt for certain men either
+placed very high or greatly adulated, whom she had from time to time met
+in the drawing-room of her aunt, the Princess Saint-Dizier, when she
+resided with her.
+
+These indispensable explanations being given, we usher, the reader into
+the presence of Adrienne de Cardoville, who had just come out of the
+bath.
+
+It would require all the brilliant colorings of the Venetian school to
+represent that charming scene, which would rather seem to have occurred
+in the sixteenth century, in some palace of Florence or Bologna, than in
+Paris, in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, in the month of February, 1832.
+
+Adrienne's dressing-room was a kind of miniature temple seemingly one
+erected and dedicated to the worship of beauty, in gratitude to the Maker
+who has lavished so many charms upon woman, not to be neglected by her,
+or to cover and conceal them with ashes, or to destroy them by the
+contact of her person with sordid and harsh haircloth; but in order that,
+with fervent gratitude for the divine gifts wherewith she is endowed, she
+may enhance her charms with all the illusions of grace and all the
+splendors of apparel, so as to glorify the divine work of her own
+perfections in the eyes of all. Daylight was admitted into this
+semicircular apartment, through one of those double windows, contrived
+for the preservation of heat, so happily imported from Germany. The walls
+of the pavilion being constructed of stone of great thickness, the depth
+of the aperture for the windows was therefore very great. That of
+Adrienne's dressing-room was closed on the outside by a sash containing a
+single large pane of plate glass, and within, by another large plate of
+ground glass. In the interval or space of about three feet left between
+these two transparent enclosures, there was a case or box filled with
+furze mould, whence sprung forth climbing plants, which, directed round
+the ground glass, formed a rich garland of leaves and flowers. A garnet
+damask tapestry, rich with harmoniously blended arabesques, in the purest
+style, covered the walls and a thick carpet of similar color was extended
+over the floor: and this sombre ground, presented by the floor and walls,
+marvellously enhanced the effects of all the harmonious ornaments and
+decorations of the chamber.
+
+Under the window, opposite to the south, was placed Adrienne's dressing
+case, a real masterpiece of the skill of the goldsmith. Upon a large
+tablet of lapis-lazuli, there were scattered boxes of jewels, their lids
+precisely enamelled; several scent boxes of rock crystal, and other
+implements and utensils of the toilet, some formed of shells, some of
+mother-of-pearl, and others of ivory, covered with ornaments of gold in
+extraordinary taste. Two large figures, modelled in silver with antique
+purity; supported an oval swing mirror, which had for its rim, in place
+of a frame curiously carved, a fresh garland of natural flowers, renewed
+every day like a nosegay for a ball.
+
+Two enormous Japanese vases, of purple and gold, three feet each in
+diameter, were placed upon the carpet on each side of the toilet, and,
+filled with camellias, ibiscures, and cape jasmine, in full flower formed
+a sort of grove, diversified with the most brilliant colors. At the
+farther end of the apartment, opposite the casement, was to be seen,
+surrounded by another mass of flowers, a reduction in white marble of the
+enchanting group of Daphnis and Chloe, the more chaste ideal of graceful
+modesty and youthful beauty.
+
+Two golden lamps burned perfumes upon the same pedestal which supported
+those two charming figures. A coffer of frosted silver, set off with
+small figures in jewelry and precious stones, and supported on four feet
+of gilt bronze, contained various necessaries for the toilette; two
+frosted Psyches, decorated with diamond ear-rings; some excellent
+drawings from Raphael and Titian, painted by Adrienne herself, consisting
+of portraits of both men and women of exquisite beauty; several consoles
+of oriental jasper, supporting ewers and basins of silver and of silver
+gilt, richly chased and filled with scented waters; a voluptuously rich
+divan, some seats, and an illuminated gilt fable, completed the furniture
+of this chamber, the atmosphere of which was impregnated with the
+sweetest perfumes.
+
+Adrienne, whom her attendants had just helped from the bath, was seated
+before her toilette, her three women surrounding her. By a caprice, or
+rather by a necessary and logical impulse of her soul, filled as it was
+with the love of beauty and of harmony in all things, Adrienne had wished
+the young women who served her to be very pretty, and be dressed with
+attention and with a charming originality. We have already seen
+Georgette, a piquante blonde, attired in her attractive costume of an
+intriguing lady's maid of Marivaux; and her two companions were quite
+equal to her both in gracefulness and gentility.
+
+One of them, named Florine, a tall, delicately slender, and elegant girl,
+with the air and form of Diana Huntress, was of a pale brown complexion.
+Her thick black hair was turned up behind, where it was fastened with a
+long golden pin. Like the two other girls, her arms were uncovered to
+facilitate the performance of her duties about and upon the person of her
+charming mistress. She wore a dress of that gay green so familiar to the
+Venetian painters. Her petticoat was very ample. Her slender waist curved
+in from under the plaits of a tucker of white cambric, plaited in five
+minute folds, and fastened by five gold buttons. The third of Adrienne's
+women had a face so fresh and ingenuous, a waist so delicate, so
+pleasing, and so finished, that her mistress had given her the name of
+Hebe. Her dress of a delicate rose color, and Grecian cut, displayed her
+charming neck, and her beautiful arms up to the very shoulders. The
+physiognomy of these three young women was laughter loving and happy. On
+their features there was no expression of that bitter sullenness, willing
+and hated obedience, or offensive familiarity, or base and degraded
+deference, which are the ordinary results of a state of servitude. In the
+zealous eagerness of the cares and attentions which they lavished upon
+Adrienne, there seemed to be at least as much of affection as of
+deference and respect. They appeared to derive an ardent pleasure from
+the services which they rendered to their lovely mistress. One would have
+thought that they attached to the dressing and embellishment of her
+person all the merits and the enjoyment arising from the execution of a
+work of art, in the accomplishing of which, fruitful of delights, they
+were stimulated by the passions of love, of pride, and of joy.
+
+The sun beamed brightly upon the toilet-case, placed in front of the
+window. Adrienne was seated on a chair, its back elevated a little more
+than usual. She was enveloped in a long morning-gown of blue silk,
+embroidered with a leaf of the same color, which was fitted close to her
+waist, as exquisitely slender and delicate as that of a child of twelve
+years, by a girdle with floating tags. Her neck, delicately slender and
+flexible as a bird's, was uncovered, as were also her shoulders and arms,
+and all were of incomparable beauty. Despite the vulgarity of the
+comparison, the purest ivory alone can give an idea of the dazzling
+whiteness of her polished satin skin, of a texture so fresh and so firm,
+that some drops of water, collected and still remaining about the roots
+of her hair from the bath, rolled in serpentine lines over her shoulders,
+like pearls, or beads, of crystal, over white marble.
+
+And what gave enhanced lustre to this wondrous carnation, known but to
+auburn-headed beauties, was the deep purple of her, humid lips,--the
+roseate transparency of her small ears, of her dilated nostrils, and her
+nails, as bright and glossy, as if they had been varnished. In every
+spot, indeed, where her pure arterial blood, full of animation and heat,
+could make its way to the skin and shine through the surface, it
+proclaimed her high health and the vivid life and joyous buoyancy of her
+glorious youth. Her eyes were very large, and of a velvet softness. Now
+they glanced, sparkling and shining with comic humor or intelligence and
+wit; and now they widened and extended themselves, languishing and
+swimming between their double fringes of long crisp eyelashes, of as deep
+a black as her finely-drawn and exquisitely arched eyebrows; for, by a
+delightful freak of nature, she had black eyebrows and eyelashes to
+contrast with the golden red of her hair. Her forehead, small like those
+of ancient Grecian statues, formed with the rest of her face a perfect
+oval. Her nose, delicately curved, was slightly aquiline; the enamel of
+her teeth glistened when the light fell upon them; and her vermeil mouth
+voluptuously sensual, seemed to call for sweet kisses, and the gay smiles
+and delectations of dainty and delicious pleasure. It is impossible to
+behold or to conceive a carriage of the head freer, more noble, or more
+elegant than hers; thanks to the great distance which separated the neck
+and the ear from their attachment to her outspread and dimpled shoulders.
+We have already said that Adrienne was red-haired; but it was the redness
+of many of the admirable portraits of women by Titian and Leonardo da
+Vinci,--that is to say, molten gold presents not reflections more
+delightfully agreeable or more glittering, than the naturally undulating
+mass of her very long hair, as soft and fine as silk, so long, that, when
+let loose, it reached the floor; in it, she could wholly envelop herself,
+like another Venus arising from the sea. At the present moment,
+Adrienne's tresses were ravishing to behold; Georgette, her arms bare,
+stood behind her mistress, and had carefully collected into one of her
+small white hands, those splendid threads whose naturally ardent
+brightness was doubled in the sunshine. When the pretty lady's-maid
+pulled a comb of ivory into the midst of the undulating and golden waves
+of that enormously magnificent skein of silk, one might have said that a
+thousand sparks of fire darted forth and coruscated away from it in all
+directions. The sunshine, too, reflected not less golden and fiery rays
+from numerous clusters of spiral ringlets, which, divided upon Adrienne's
+forehead, fell over her cheeks, and in their elastic flexibility caressed
+the risings of her snowy bosom, to whose charming undulations they
+adapted and applied themselves. Whilst Georgette, standing, combed the
+beautiful locks of her mistress, Hebe, with one knee upon the floor, and
+having upon the other the sweet little foot of Miss Cardoville, busied
+herself in fitting it with a remarkably small shoe of black satin, and
+crossed its slender ties over a silk stocking of a pale yet rosy flesh
+color, which imprisoned the smallest and finest ankle in the world.
+Florine, a little farther back, presented to her mistress, in a jeweled
+box, a perfumed paste, with which Adrienne slightly rubbed her dazzling
+hands and outspread fingers, which seemed tinted with carmine to their
+extremities. Let us not forget Frisky, who, couched in the lap of her
+mistress, opened her great eyes with all her might, and seemed to observe
+the different operations of Adrienne's toilette with grave and reflective
+attention. A silver bell being sounded from without, Florine, at a sign
+from her mistress, went out and presently returned, bearing a letter upon
+a small silver-gilt salve. Adrienne, while her women continued fitting on
+her shoes, dressing her hair, and arranging her in her habiliments, took
+the letter, which was written by the steward of the estate of Cardoville,
+and read aloud as follows:
+
+"HONORED MADAME,
+
+"Knowing your goodness of heart and generosity, I venture to address you
+with respectful confidence. During twenty years I served the late Count
+and Duke of Cardoville, your noble father, I believe I may truly say,
+with probity and zeal. The castle is now sold; so that I and my wife, in
+our old age, behold ourselves about to be dismissed, and left destitute
+of all resources: which, alas! is very hard at our time of life."
+
+"Poor creature!" said Adrienne, interrupting herself in reading: "my
+father, certainly, always prided himself upon their devotion to him, and
+their probity." She continued:
+
+"There does, indeed, remain to us a means of retaining our place here;
+but it would constrain us to be guilty of baseness; and, be the
+consequences to us what they may, neither I nor my wife wish to purchase
+our bread at such a price."
+
+"Good, very good," said Adrienne, "always the same--dignity even in
+poverty--it is the sweet perfume of a flower, not the less sweet because
+it has bloomed in a meadow."
+
+"In order to explain to you, honored madame, the unworthy task exacted
+from us, it is necessary to inform you, in the first place, that M. Rodin
+came here from Paris two days ago."
+
+"Ah! M. Rodin!" said Mademoiselle de Cardoville, interrupting herself
+anew; "the secretary of Abbe d'Aigrigny! I am not at all surprised at him
+being engaged in a perfidious or black intrigue. But let us see."
+
+"M. Rodin came from Paris to announce to us that the estate was sold, and
+that he was sure of being able to obtain our continuance in our place, if
+we would assist him in imposing a priest not of good character upon the
+new proprietress as her future confessor; and if, the better to attain
+this end, we would consent to calumniate another priest, a deserving and
+excellent man, much loved and much respected in the country. Even that is
+not all. I was required to write twice or thrice a week to M. Rodin, and
+to relate to him everything that should occur in the house. I ought to
+acknowledge, honored madame, that these infamous proposals were as much
+as possible disguised and dissimulated under sufficiently specious
+pretexts; but, notwithstanding the aspect which with more or less skill
+it was attempted to give to the affair, it was precisely and
+substantially what I have now had the honor of stating to you."
+
+"Corruption, calumny, and false and treacherous impeachment!" said
+Adrienne, with disgust: "I cannot think of such wretches without
+involuntarily feeling my mind shocked by dismal ideas of black, venomous,
+and vile reptiles, of aspects most hideous indeed. How much more do I
+love to dwell upon the consoling thought of honest Dupont and his wife!"
+Adrienne proceeded:
+
+"Believe me, we hesitated not an instant. We quit Cardoville, which has
+been our home for the last twenty years;--but we shall quit it like
+honest people, and with the consciousness of our integrity. And now,
+honored madame, if, in the brilliant circle in which you move--you, who
+are so benevolent and amiable--could find a place for us by your
+recommendation, then, with endless gratitude to you, we shall escape from
+a position of most cruel embarrassment."
+
+"Surely, surely," said Adrienne, "they shall not in vain appeal to me. To
+wrest excellent persons from the grip of M. Rodin, is not only a duty but
+a pleasure: for it is at once a righteous and a dangerous enterprise; and
+dearly do I love to brave powerful oppressors!" Adrienne again went on
+reading:
+
+"After having thus spoken to you of ourselves, honored madame, permit us
+to implore your protection for other unfortunates; for it would be wicked
+to think only of one's self. Three days ago, two shipwrecks took place
+upon our ironbound coast. A few passengers only were saved, and were
+conducted hither, where I and my wife gave them all necessary attentions.
+All these passengers have departed for Paris, except one, who still
+remains, his wounds having hitherto prevented him from leaving the house,
+and, indeed, they will constrain him to remain for some days to come. He
+is a young East Indian prince, of about twenty years of age, and he
+appears to be as amiable and good as he is handsome, which is not a
+little to say, though he has a tawny skin, like the rest of his
+countrymen, as I understand."
+
+"An Indian prince! twenty years of age! young, amiable, and handsome!"
+exclaimed Adrienne, gayly; "this is quite delightful, and not at all of
+an ordinary or vulgar nature! Oh! this Indian prince has already awakened
+all my sympathies! But what can I do with this Adonis from the banks of
+the Ganges, who has come to wreck himself upon the Picardy coast?"
+
+Adrienne's three women looked at her with much astonishment, though they
+were accustomed to the singular eccentricities of her character.
+
+Georgette and Hebe even indulged in discreet and restrained smiles.
+Florine, the tall and beautiful pale brown girl, also smiled like her
+pretty companions; but it was after a short pause of seeming reflection,
+as if she had previously been entirely engrossed in listening to and
+recollecting the minutest words of her mistress, who, though powerfully
+interested by the situation of the "Adonis from Ganges banks," as she had
+called him, continued to read Dupont's letter:
+
+"One of the countrymen of the Indian prince, who has also remained to
+attend upon him, has given me to understand that the youthful prince has
+lost in the shipwreck all he possessed, and knows not how to get to
+Paris, where his speedy presence is required by some affairs of the very
+greatest importance. It is not from the prince himself that I have
+obtained this information: no; he appears to be too dignified and proud
+to proclaim of his fate: but his countryman, more communicative,
+confidentially told me what I have stated, adding, that his young
+compatriot has already been subjected to great calamities, and that his
+father, who was the sovereign of an Indian kingdom, has been killed by
+the English, who have also dispossessed his son of his crown."
+
+"This is very singular," said Adrienne, thoughtfully. "These
+circumstances recall to my mind that my father often mentioned that one
+of our relations was espoused in India by a native monarch; and that
+General Simon: (whom they have created a marshal) had entered into his
+service." Then interrupting herself to indulge in a smile, she added,
+"Gracious! this affair will be quite odd and fantastical! Such things
+happen to nobody but me; and then people say that I am the uncommon
+creature! But it seems to me that it is not I, but Providence, which, in
+truth, sometimes shows itself very eccentric! But let us see if worthy
+Dupont gives the name of this handsome prince?"
+
+"We trust, honored madame, that you will pardon our boldness: but we
+should have thought ourselves very selfish, if, while stating to you our
+own griefs, we had not also informed you that there is with us a brave
+and estimable prince involved in so much distress. In fine, lady, trust
+to me; I am old; and I have had much experience of men; and it was only
+necessary to see the nobleness of expression and the sweetness of
+countenance of this young Indian, to enable me to judge that he is worthy
+of the interest which I have taken the liberty to request in his behalf.
+It would be sufficient to transmit to him a small sum of money for the
+purchase of some European clothing; for he has lost all his Indian
+vestments in the shipwreck."
+
+"Good heavens! European clothing!" exclaimed Adrienne, gayly. "Poor young
+prince! Heaven preserve him from that; and me also! Chance has sent
+hither from the heart of India, a mortal so far favored as never to have
+worn the abominable European costume--those hideous habits, and frightful
+hats, which render the men so ridiculous, so ugly, that in truth there is
+not a single good quality to be discovered in them, nor one spark of what
+can either captivate or attract! There comes to me at last a handsome
+young prince from the East, where the men are clothed in silk and
+cashmere. Most assuredly I'll not miss this rare and unique opportunity
+of exposing myself to a very serious and formidable temptation! No, no!
+not a European dress for me, though poor Dupont requests it! But the
+name--the name of this dear prince! Once more, what a singular event is
+this! If it should turn out to be that cousin from beyond the Ganges!
+During my childhood, I have heard so much in praise of his royal father!
+Oh! I shall be quite ravished to give his son the kind reception which he
+merits!" And then she read on:
+
+"If, besides this small sum, honored madame, you are so kind as to give
+him, and also his companion, the means of reaching Paris, you will confer
+a very great service upon this poor young prince, who is at present so
+unfortunate.
+
+"To conclude, I know enough of your delicacy to be aware that it would
+perhaps be agreeable to you to afford this succor to the prince without
+being known as his benefactress; in which case, I beg that you will be
+pleased to command me; and you may rely upon my discretion. If, on the
+contrary, you wish to address it directly to himself, his name is, as it
+has been written for me by his countrymen, Prince Djalma, son of Radja
+sing, King of Mundi."
+
+"Djalma!" said Adrienne, quickly, and appearing to call up her
+recollections, "Radja-sing! Yes--that is it! These are the very names
+that my father so often repeated, while telling me that there was nothing
+more chivalric or heroic in the world than the old king, our relation by
+marriage; and the son has not derogated, it would seem, from that
+character. Yes, Djalma, Radja-sing--once more, that is it--such names are
+not so common," she added, smiling, "that one should either forget or
+confound them with others. This Djalma is my cousin! Brave and
+good--young and charming! above all, he has never worn the horrid
+European dress! And destitute of every resource! This is quite ravishing!
+It is too much happiness at once! Quick, quick let us improvise a pretty
+fairy tale, of which the handsome and beloved prince shall be the hero!
+The poor bird of the golden and azure plumage has wandered into our
+dismal climate; but he will find here, at least, something to remind him
+of his native region of sunshine and perfumes!" Then, addressing one of
+her women, she said: "Georgette, take paper and write, my child!" The
+young girl went to the gilt, illuminated table, which contained materials
+for writing; and, having seated herself, she said to her mistress: "I
+await orders."
+
+Adrienne de Cardoville, whose charming countenance was radiant with the
+gayety of happiness and joy, proceeded to dictate the following letter to
+a meritorious old painter, who had long since taught her the arts of
+drawing and designing; in which arts she excelled, as indeed she did in
+all others:
+
+"MY DEAR TITIAN, MY GOOD VERONESE, MY WORTHY RAPHAEL.
+
+"You can render me a very great service,--and you will do it, I am sure,
+with that perfect and obliging complaisance by which you are ever
+distinguished.
+
+"It is to go immediately and apply yourself to the skillful hand who
+designed my last costumes of the fifteenth century. But the present
+affair is to procure modern East Indian dresses for a young man--yes,
+sir--for a young man,--and according to what I imagine of him, I fancy
+that you can cause his measure to be taken from the Antinous, or rather,
+from the Indian Bacchus; yes--that will be more likely.
+
+"It is necessary that these vestments be at once of perfect propriety and
+correctness, magnificently rich, and of the greatest elegance. You will
+choose the most beautiful stuffs possible; and endeavor, above all
+things, that they be, or resemble, tissues of Indian manufacture; and you
+will add to them, for turbans and sashes, six splendid long cashmere
+shawls, two of them white, two red, and two orange; as nothing suits
+brown complexions better than those colors.
+
+"This done (and I allow you at the utmost only two or three days), you
+will depart post in my carriage for Cardoville Manor House, which you
+know so well. The steward, the excellent Dupont, one of your old friends,
+will there introduce you to a young Indian Prince, named Djalma; and you
+will tell that most potent grave, and reverend signior, of another
+quarter of the globe, that you have come on the part of an unknown
+friend, who, taking upon himself the duty of a brother, sends him what is
+necessary to preserve him from the odious fashions of Europe. You will
+add, that his friend expects him with so much impatience that he conjures
+him to come to Paris immediately. If he objects that he is suffering, you
+will tell him that my carriage is an excellent bed-closet; and you will
+cause the bedding, etc., which it contains, to be fitted up, till he
+finds it quite commodious. Remember to make very humble excuses for the
+unknown friend not sending to the prince either rich palanquins, or even,
+modestly, a single elephant; for alas! palanquins are only to be seen at
+the opera; and there are no elephants but those in the menagerie,--though
+this must make us seem strangely barbarous in his eyes.
+
+"As soon as you shall have decided on your departure, perform the journey
+as rapidly as possible, and bring here, into my house, in the Rue de
+Babylone (what predestination! that I should dwell in the street of
+BABYLON,--a name which must at least accord with the ear of an
+Oriental),--you will bring hither, I say, this dear prince, who is so
+happy as to have been born in a country of flowers, diamonds, and sun!
+
+"Above all, you will have the kindness, my old and worthy friend, not to
+be at all astonished at this new freak, and refrain from indulging in
+extravagant conjectures. Seriously, the choice which I have made of you
+in this affair,--of you, whom I esteem and most sincerely honor,--is
+because it is sufficient to say to you that, at the bottom of all this,
+there is something more than a seeming act of folly."
+
+In uttering these last words, the tone of Adrienne was as serious and
+dignified as it had been previously comic and jocose. But she quickly
+resumed, more gayly, dictating to Georgette.
+
+"Adieu, my old friend. I am something like that commander of ancient
+days, whose heroic nose and conquering chin you have so often made me
+draw: I jest with the utmost freedom of spirit even in the moment of
+battle: yes, for within an hour I shall give battle, a pitched battle--to
+my dear pew-dwelling aunt. Fortunately, audacity and courage never failed
+me, and I burn with impatience for the engagement with my austere
+princess.
+
+"A kiss, and a thousand heartfelt recollections to your excellent wife.
+If I speak of her here, who is so justly respected, you will please to
+understand, it is to make you quite at ease as to the consequences of
+this running away with, for my sake, a charming young prince,--for it is
+proper to finish well where I should have begun, by avowing to you that
+he is charming indeed!
+
+"Once more, adieu!"
+
+Then, addressing Georgette, said she, "Have you done writing, chit?"
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"Oh, add this postscript."
+
+"P.S.--I send you draft on sight on my banker for all expenses. Spare
+nothing. You know I am quite a grand seigneur. I must use this masculine
+expression, since your sex have exclusively appropriated to yourselves
+(tyrants as you are) a term, so significant as it is of noble
+generosity."
+
+"Now, Georgette," said Adrienne; "bring me an envelope, and the letter,
+that I may sign it." Mademoiselle de Cardoville took the pen that
+Georgette presented to her, signed the letter, and enclosed in it an
+order upon her banker, which was expressed thus:
+
+"Please pay M. Norval, on demand without grace, the sum of money he may
+require for expenses incurred on my account.
+
+                  "ADRIENNE DE CARDOVILLE."
+
+During all this scene, while Georgette wrote, Florine and Hebe had
+continued to busy themselves with the duties of their mistress's
+toilette, who had put off her morning gown, and was now in full dress, in
+order to wait upon the princess, her aunt. From the sustained and
+immovably fixed attention with which Florine had listened to Adrienne's
+dictating to Georgette her letter to M. Norval, it might easily have been
+seen that, as was her habit indeed, she endeavored to retain in her
+memory even the slightest words of her mistress.
+
+"Now, chit," said Adrienne to Hebe, "send this letter immediately to M.
+Norval."
+
+The same silver bell was again rung from without. Hebe moved towards the
+door of the dressing-room, to go and inquire what it was, and also to
+execute the order of her mistress as to the letter. But Florine
+precipitated herself, so to speak, before her, and so as to prevent her
+leaving the apartment; and said to Adrienne:
+
+"Will it please my lady for me to send this letter? I have occasion to go
+to the mansion."
+
+"Go, Florine, then," said Adrienne, "seeing that you wish it. Georgette,
+seal the letter."
+
+At the end of a second or two, during which Georgette had sealed the
+letter, Hebe returned.
+
+"Madame," said she, re-entering, "the working-man who brought back Frisky
+yesterday, entreats you to admit him for an instant. He is very pale, and
+he appears quite sad."
+
+"Would that he may already have need of me! I should be too happy!" said
+Adrienne gayly. "Show the excellent young man into the little saloon.
+And, Florine, despatch this letter immediately."
+
+Florine went out. Miss de Cardoville, followed by Frisky, entered the
+little reception-room, where Agricola awaited her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+THE INTERVIEW.
+
+When Adrienne de Cardoville entered the saloon where Agricola expected
+her, she was dressed with extremely elegant simplicity. A robe of deep
+blue, perfectly fitted to her shape, embroidered in front with
+interlacings of black silk, according to the then fashion, outlined her
+nymph-like figure, and her rounded bosom. A French cambric collar,
+fastened by a large Scotch pebble, set as a brooch, served her for a
+necklace. Her magnificent golden hair formed a framework for her fair
+countenance, with an incredible profusion of long and light spiral
+tresses, which reached nearly to her waist.
+
+Agricola, in order to save explanations with his father, and to make him
+believe that he had indeed gone to the workshop of M. Hardy, had been
+obliged to array himself in his working dress; he had put on a new blouse
+though, and the collar of his shirt, of stout linen, very white, fell
+over upon a black cravat, negligently tied; his gray trousers allowed his
+well polished boots to be seen; and he held between his muscular hands a
+cap of fine woolen cloth, quite new. To sum up, his blue blouse,
+embroidered with red, showing off the nervous chest of the young
+blacksmith, and indicating his robust shoulders, falling down in graceful
+folds, put not the least constraint upon his free and easy gait, and
+became him much better than either frock-coat or dress-coat would have
+done. While awaiting Miss de Cardoville, Agricola mechanically examined a
+magnificent silver vase, admirably graven. A small tablet, of the same
+metal, fitted into a cavity of its antique stand, bore the words--"Chased
+by JEAN MARIE, working chaser, 1831."
+
+Adrienne had stepped so lightly upon the carpet of her saloon, only
+separated from another apartment by the doors, that Agricola had not
+perceived the young lady's entrance. He started, and turned quickly
+round, upon hearing a silver and brilliant voice say to him-"That is a
+beautiful vase, is it not, sir?"
+
+"Very beautiful, madame," answered Agricola greatly embarrassed.
+
+"You may see from it that I like what is equitable." added Miss de
+Cardoville, pointing with her finger to the little silver tablet;--"an
+artist puts his name upon his painting; an author publishes his on the
+title-page of his book; and I contend that an artisan ought also to have
+his name connected with his workmanship."
+
+"Oh, madame, so this name?"
+
+"Is that of the poor chaser who executed this masterpiece, at the order
+of a rich goldsmith. When the latter sold me the vase, he was amazed at
+my eccentricity, he would have almost said at my injustice, when, after
+having made him tell me the name of the author of this production, I
+ordered his name to be inscribed upon it, instead of that of the
+goldsmith, which had already been affixed to the stand. In the absence of
+the rich profits, let the artisan enjoy the fame of his skill. Is it not
+just, sir?"
+
+It would have been impossible for Adrienne to commence the conversation
+more graciously: so that the blacksmith, already beginning to feel a
+little more at ease, answered:
+
+"Being a mechanic myself, madame, I cannot but be doubly affected by such
+a proof of your sense of equity and justice."
+
+"Since you are a mechanic, sir," resumed Adrienne, "I cannot but
+felicitate myself on having so suitable a hearer. But please to be
+seated."
+
+With a gesture full of affability, she pointed to an armchair of purple
+silk embroidered with gold, sitting down herself upon a tete-a-tete of
+the same materials.
+
+Seeing Agricola's hesitation, who again cast down his eyes with
+embarrassment, Adrienne, to encourage him, showed him Frisky, and said to
+him gayly: "This poor little animal, to which I am very much attached,
+will always afford me a lively remembrance of your obliging complaisance,
+sir. And this visit seems to me to be of happy augury; I know not what
+good presentiment whispers to me, that perhaps I shall have the pleasure
+of being useful to you in some affair."
+
+"Madame," said Agricola, resolutely, "my name is Baudoin: a blacksmith in
+the employment of M. Hardy, at Pressy, near the city. Yesterday you
+offered me your purse and I refused it: to-day, I have come to request of
+you perhaps ten or twenty times the sum that you had generously proposed.
+I have said thus much all at once, madame, because it causes me the
+greatest effort. The words blistered my lips, but now I shall be more at
+ease."
+
+"I appreciate the delicacy of your scruples, sir," said Adrienne; "but if
+you knew me, you would address me without fear. How much do you require?"
+
+"I do not know, madame," answered Agricola.
+
+"I beg your pardon. You don't know what sum?"
+
+"No madame; and I come to you to request, not only the sum necessary to
+me, but also information as to what that sum is."
+
+"Let us see, sir," said Adrienne, smiling, "explain this to me. In spite
+of my good will, you feel that I cannot divine, all at once, what it is
+that is required."
+
+"Madame, in two words, I can state the truth. I have a food old mother,
+who in her youth, broke her health by excessive labor, to enable her to
+bring me up; and not only me, but a poor abandoned child whom she had
+picked up. It is my turn now to maintain her; and that I have the
+happiness of doing. But in order to do so, I have only my labor. If I am
+dragged from my employment, my mother will be without support."
+
+"Your mother cannot want for anything now, sir, since I interest myself
+for her."
+
+"You will interest yourself for her, madame?" said Agricola.
+
+"Certainly," replied Adrienne.
+
+"But you don't know her," exclaimed the blacksmith.
+
+"Now I do; yes."
+
+"Oh, madame!" said Agricola, with emotion, after a moment's silence. "I
+understand you. But indeed you have a noble heart. Mother Bunch was
+right."
+
+"Mother Bunch?" said Adrienne, looking at Agricola with a very surprised
+air; for what he said to her was an enigma.
+
+The blacksmith, who blushed not for his friends, replied frankly.
+
+"Madame, permit me to explain, to you. Mother Bunch is a poor and very
+industrious young workwoman, with whom I have been brought up. She is
+deformed, which is the reason why she is called Mother Bunch. But though,
+on the one hand, she is sunk, as low as you are highly elevated on the
+other, yet as regards the heart--as to delicacy--oh, lady, I am certain
+that your heart is of equal worth with hers! That was at once her own
+thought, after I had related to her in what manner, yesterday, you had
+presented me with that beautiful flower."
+
+"I can assure you, sir," said Adrienne, sincerely touched, "that this
+comparison flatters and honors me more than anything else that you could
+say to me,--a heart that remains good and delicate, in spite of cruel
+misfortunes, is so rare a treasure; while it is very easy to be good,
+when we have youth and beauty, and to be delicate and generous, when we
+are rich. I accept, then, your comparison; but on condition that you will
+quickly put me in a situation to deserve it. Pray go on, therefore."
+
+In spite of the gracious cordiality of Miss de Cardoville, there was
+always observable in her so much of that natural dignity which arises
+from independence of character, so much elevation of soul and nobleness
+of sentiment that Agricola, forgetting the ideal physical beauty of his
+protectress, rather experienced for her the emotions of an affectionate
+and kindly, though profound respect, which offered a singular and
+striking contrast with the youth and gayety of the lovely being who
+inspired him with this sentiment.
+
+"If my mother alone, madame, were exposed to the rigor which I dread. I
+should not be so greatly disquieted with the fear of a compulsory
+suspension of my employment. Among poor people, the poor help one
+another; and my mother is worshipped by all the inmates of our house, our
+excellent neighbors, who would willingly succor her. But, they themselves
+are far from being well off; and as they would incur privations by
+assisting her, their little benefit would still be more painful to my
+mother than the endurance even of misery by herself. And besides, it is
+not only for my mother that my exertions are required, but for my father,
+whom we have not seen for eighteen years, and who has just arrived from
+Siberia, where he remained during all that time, from zealous devotion to
+his former general, now Marshal Simon."
+
+"Marshal Simon!" said Adrienne, quickly, with an expression of much
+surprise.
+
+"Do you know the marshal, madame?"
+
+"I do not personally know him, but he married a lady of our family."
+
+"What joy!" exclaimed the blacksmith, "then the two young ladies, his
+daughters, whom my father has brought from Russia, are your relations!"
+
+"Has Marshal Simon two daughters?" asked Adrienne, more and more
+astonished and interested.
+
+"Yes, madame, two little angels of fifteen or sixteen, and so pretty, so
+sweet; they are twins so very much alike, as to be mistaken for one
+another. Their mother died in exile; and the little she possessed having
+been confiscated, they have come hither with my father, from the depths
+of Siberia, travelling very wretchedly; but he tried to make them forget
+so many privations by the fervency of his devotion and his tenderness. My
+excellent father! you will not believe, madame, that, with the courage of
+a lion, he has all the love and tenderness of a mother."
+
+"And where are the dear children, sir?" asked Adrienne.
+
+"At our home, madame. It is that which renders my position so very hard;
+that which has given me courage to come to you; it is not but that my
+labor would be sufficient for our little household, even thus augmented;
+but that I am about to be arrested."
+
+"About to be arrested? For what?"
+
+"Pray, madame, have the goodness to read this letter, which has been sent
+by some one to Mother Bunch."
+
+Agricola gave to Miss de Cardoville the anonymous letter which had been
+received by the workwoman.
+
+After having read the letter, Adrienne said to the blacksmith, with
+surprise, "It appears, sir, you are a poet!"
+
+"I have neither the ambition nor the pretension to be one, madame. Only,
+when I return to my mother after a day's toil, and often, even while
+forging my iron, in order to divert and relax my attention, I amuse
+myself with rhymes, sometimes composing an ode, sometimes a song."
+
+"And your song of the Freed Workman, which is mentioned in this letter,
+is, therefore, very disaffected--very dangerous?"
+
+"Oh, no, madame; quite the contrary. For myself, I have the good fortune
+to be employed in the factory of M. Hardy, who renders the condition of
+his workpeople as happy as that of their less fortunate comrades is the
+reverse; and I had limited myself to attempt, in favor of the great mass
+of the working classes, an equitable, sincere, warm, and earnest
+claim--nothing more. But you are aware, perhaps, Madame, that in times of
+conspiracy, and commotion, people are often incriminated and imprisoned
+on very slight grounds. Should such a misfortune befall me, what will
+become of my mother, my father, and the two orphans whom we are bound to
+regard as part of our family until the return of their father, Marshal
+Simon? It is on this account, madame, that, if I remain, I run the risk
+of being arrested. I have come to you to request you to provide surety
+for me; so that I should not be compelled to exchange the workshop for
+the prison, in which case I can answer for it that the fruits of my labor
+will suffice for all."
+
+"Thank the stars!" said Adrienne, gayly, "this affair will arrange itself
+quite easily. Henceforth, Mr. Poet, you shall draw your inspirations in
+the midst of good fortune instead of adversity. Sad muse! But first of
+all, bonds shall be given for you."
+
+"Oh, madame, you have saved us!"
+
+"To continue," said Adrienne, "the physician of our family is intimately
+connected with a very important minister (understand that, as you like,"
+said she, smiling, "you will not deceive yourself much). The doctor
+exercises very great influence over this great statesman; for he has
+always had the happiness of recommending to him, on account of his
+health; the sweets and repose of private life, to the very eve of the day
+on which his portfolio was taken from him. Keep yourself, then, perfectly
+at ease. If the surety be insufficient, we shall be able to devise some
+other means.
+
+"Madame," said Agricola, with great emotion, "I am indebted to you for
+the repose, perhaps for the life of my mother. Believe that I shall ever
+be grateful."
+
+"That is all quite simple. Now for another thing. It is proper that those
+who have too much should have the right of coming to the aid of those who
+have too little. Marshal Simon's daughters are members of my family, and
+they will reside here with me, which will be more suitable. You will
+apprise your worthy mother of this; and in the evening, besides going to
+thank her for the hospitality which she has shown to my young relations,
+I shall fetch them home."
+
+At this moment Georgette, throwing open the door which separated the room
+from an adjacent apartment, hurriedly entered, with an affrighted look,
+exclaiming:
+
+"Oh, madame, something extraordinary is going on in the street."
+
+"How so? Explain yourself," said Adrienne.
+
+"I went to conduct my dressmaker to the little garden-gate," said
+Georgette; "where I saw some ill-looking men, attentively examining the
+walls and windows of the little out-building belonging to the pavilion,
+as if they wished to spy out some one."
+
+"Madame," said Agricola, with chagrin, "I have not been deceived. They
+are after me."
+
+"What say you?"
+
+"I thought I was followed, from the moment when I left the Rue St. Merry:
+and now it is beyond doubt. They must have seen me enter your house; and
+are on the watch to arrest me. Well, now that your interest has been
+acquired for my mother,--now that I have no farther uneasiness for
+Marshal Simon's daughters,--rather than hazard your exposure to anything
+the least unpleasant, I run to deliver myself up."
+
+"Beware of that sir," said Adrienne, quickly. "Liberty is too precious to
+be voluntarily sacrificed. Besides, Georgette may have been mistaken. But
+in any case, I entreat you not to surrender yourself. Take my advice, and
+escape being arrested. That, I think, will greatly facilitate my
+measures; for I am of opinion that justice evinces a great desire to keep
+possession of those upon whom she has once pounced."
+
+"Madame," said Hebe, now also entering with a terrified look, "a man
+knocked at the little door, and inquired if a young man in a blue blouse
+has not entered here. He added, that the person whom he seeks is named
+Agricola Baudoin, and that he has something to tell him of great
+importance."
+
+"That's my name," said Agricola; "but the important information is a
+trick to draw me out."
+
+"Evidently," said Adrienne; "and therefore we must play off trick for
+trick. What did you answer, child?" added she, addressing herself to
+Hebe.
+
+"I answered, that I didn't know what he was talking about."
+
+"Quite right," said Adrienne: "and the man who put the question?"
+
+"He went away, madame."
+
+"Without doubt to come back again, soon," said Agricola.
+
+"That is very probable," said Adrienne, "and therefore, sir, it is
+necessary for you to remain here some hours with resignation. I am
+unfortunately obliged to go immediately to the Princess Saint-Dizier, my
+aunt, for an important interview, which can no longer be delayed, and is
+rendered more pressing still by what you have told me concerning the
+daughters of Marshal Simon. Remain here, then, sir; since if you go out,
+you will certainly be arrested."
+
+"Madame, pardon my refusal; but I must say once more that I ought not to
+accept this generous offer."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"They have tried to draw me out, in order to avoid penetrating with the
+power of the law into your dwelling but if I go not out, they will come
+in; and never will I expose you to anything so disagreeable. Now that I
+am no longer uneasy about my mother, what signifies prison?"
+
+"And the grief that your mother will feel, her uneasiness, and her
+fears,--nothing? Think of your father; and that poor work-woman who loves
+you as a brother, and whom I value as a sister;--say, sir, do you forget
+them also? Believe me, it is better to spare those torments to your
+family. Remain here; and before the evening I am certain, either by
+giving surety, or some other means, of delivering you from these
+annoyances."
+
+"But, madame, supposing that I do accept your generous offer, they will
+come and find me here."
+
+"Not at all. There is in this pavilion, which was formerly the abode of a
+nobleman's left-handed wife,--you see, sir," said Adrienne, smiling,
+"that live in a very profane place--there is here a secret place of
+concealment, so wonderfully well-contrived, that it can defy all
+searches. Georgette will conduct you to it. You will be very well
+accommodated. You will even be able to write some verses for me, if the
+place inspire you."
+
+"Oh, madame! how great is your goodness! how have I merited it?"
+
+"Oh, sir, I will tell you. Admitting that your character and your
+position do not entitle you to any interest;--admitting that I may not
+owe a sacred debt to your father for the touching regards and cares he
+has bestowed upon the daughters of Marshal Simon, my relations--do you
+forget Frisky, sir?" asked Adrienne, laughing,--"Frisky, there, whom you
+have restored to my fondles? Seriously, if I laugh," continued this
+singular and extravagant creature, "it is because I know that you are
+entirely out of danger, and that I feel an increase of happiness.
+Therefore, sir, write for me quickly your address, and your mother's, in
+this pocket-book; follow Georgette; and spin me some pretty verses, if
+you do not bore yourself too much in that prison to which you fly."
+
+While Georgette conducted the blacksmith to the hiding-place, Hebe
+brought her mistress a small gray beaver hat with a gray feather; for
+Adrienne had to cross the park to reach the house occupied by the
+Princess Saint-Dizier.
+
+A quarter of an hour after this scene, Florine entered mysteriously the
+apartment of Mrs. Grivois, the first woman of the princess.
+
+"Well?" demanded Mrs. Grivois of the young woman.
+
+"Here are the notes which I have taken this morning," said Florine,
+putting a paper into the duenna's hand. "Happily, I have a good memory."
+
+"At what time exactly did she return home this morning?" asked the
+duenna, quickly.
+
+"Who, madame?"
+
+"Miss Adrienne."
+
+"She did not go out, madame. We put her in the bath at nine o'clock."
+
+"But before nine o'clock she came home, after having passed the night out
+of her house. Eight o'clock was the time at which she returned, however."
+
+Florine looked at Mrs. Grivois with profound astonishment, and said-"I do
+not understand you, madame."
+
+"What's that? Madame did not come home this morning at eight o'clock?
+Dare you lie?"
+
+"I was ill yesterday, and did not come down till nine this morning, in
+order to assist Georgette and Hebe help our young lady from the bath. I
+know nothing of what passed previously, I swear to you, madame."
+
+"That alters the case. You must ferret out what I allude to from your
+companions. They don't distrust you, and will tell you all."
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"What has your mistress done this morning since you saw her?"
+
+"Madame dictated a letter to Georgette for M. Norval, I requested
+permission to send it off, as a pretext for going out, and for writing
+down all I recollected."
+
+"Very well. And this letter?"
+
+"Jerome had to go out, and I gave it him to put in the post-office."
+
+"Idiot!" exclaimed Mrs. Grivois: "couldn't you bring it to me?"
+
+"But, as madame dictated it aloud to Georgette, as is her custom, I knew
+the contents of the letter; and I have written it in my notes."
+
+"That's not the same thing. It is likely there was need to delay sending
+off this letter; the princess will be very much displeased."
+
+"I thought I did right, madame."
+
+"I know that it is not good will that fails you. For these six months I
+have been satisfied with you. But this time you have committed a very
+great mistake."
+
+"Be indulgent, madame! what I do is sufficiently painful!" The girl
+stifled a sigh.
+
+Mrs. Grivois looked fixedly at her, and said in a sardonic tone:
+
+"Very well, my dear, do not continue it. If you have scruples, you are
+free. Go your way."
+
+"You well know that I am not free, madame," said Florine, reddening; and
+with tears in her eyes she added: "I am dependent upon M. Rodin, who
+placed me here."
+
+"Wherefore these regrets, then?"
+
+"In spite of one's self, one feels remorse. Madame is so good, and so
+confiding."
+
+"She is all perfection, certainly! But you are not here to sing her
+praises. What occurred afterwards?"
+
+"The working-man who yesterday found and brought back Frisky, came early
+this morning and requested permission to speak with my young lady."
+
+"And is this working-man still in her house?"
+
+"I don't know. He came in when I was going out with the letter."
+
+"You must contrive to learn what it was this workingman came about."
+
+"Yes, madame."
+
+"Has your mistress seemed preoccupied, uneasy, or afraid of the interview
+which she is to have to-day with the princess? She conceals so little of
+what she thinks, that you ought to know."
+
+"She has been as gay as usual. She has even jested about the interview!"
+
+"Oh! jested, has she?" said the tire-woman, muttering between her teeth,
+without Florine being able to hear her: "'They laugh most who laugh
+last.' In spite of her audacious and diabolical character, she would
+tremble, and would pray for mercy, if she knew what awaits her this day."
+Then addressing Florine, she continued-"Return, and keep yourself, I
+advise you, from those fine scruples, which will be quite enough to do
+you a bad turn. Do not forget!"
+
+"I cannot forget that I belong not to myself, madame."
+
+"Anyway, let it be so. Farewell."
+
+Florine quitted the mansion and crossed the park to regain the summer
+house, while Mrs Grivois went immediately to the Princess Saint-Dizier.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Wandering Jew, Book II., by Eugene Sue
+
+*** 
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