she can display it as a virtue. Social forms are, after all, very absurd and unjust; but a fool is he who tries to defy them.'
"Tears, the very first tears I had ever seen her shed, glittered in her long silky eyelashes.
" 'And to be nothing more to you,--nothing at all! Ah, I was too cautious! Do you recollect the morning after your uncle's death, when you, now a rich man, proposed that we should flee? I refused; I clung to my reputation. I wanted to be respected. I thought it possible to divide life into two parts,--one to be devoted to pleasure; the other, to the hypocrisy of duty. Poor fool that I was! And still I discovered long ago that you were weary of me. I knew you so well! Your heart was like an open book to me, in which I read your most secret thoughts.
Then I might have retained you. I ought to have been humble, obliging, submissive. Instead of that, I tried to command.
" 'And you,' she said after a short pause,--'are you happy?'
" 'I cannot be completely happy as long as I know that you are unhappy. But there is no sorrow which time does not heal. You will forget'--" 'Never!' she cried.
"And, lowering her voice, she added,--
" 'Can I forget you? Alas! my crime is fearful; but the punishment is still more so.'
"People were coming down the road.
" 'Compose yourself,' I said.
"She made an effort to control her emotion. The people passed us, saluting politely. And after a moment she said again,--" 'Well, and when is the wedding?'
"I trembled. She herself insisted upon an explanation.
" 'No day has as yet been fixed,' I replied. 'Had I not to see you first? You uttered once grave threats.'
" 'And you were afraid?'
" 'No: I was sure I knew you too well to fear that you would punish me for having loved you, as if that had been a crime. So many things have happened since the day when you made those threats!'
" 'Yes,' she replied, 'many things indeed! My poor father is incorrigible. Once more he has committed himself fearfully; and once more my husband has been compelled to sacrifice a large sum to save him. Ah, Count Claudieuse has a noble heart; and it is a great pity Ishould be the only one towards whom he has failed to show generosity.
Every kindness which he shows me is a new grievance for me; but, having accepted them all, I have forfeited the right to strike him, as I had intended to do. You may marry Dionysia, Jacques; you have nothing to fear from me.'
"Ah! I had not hoped for so much, Magloire. Overcome with joy, Iseized her hand, and raising it to my lips, I said,--" 'You are the kindest of friends.'
"But promptly, as if my lips had burnt her hand, she drew it back, and said, turning very pale,--" 'No, don't do that!'
"Then, overcoming her emotion to a certain degree, she added,--" 'But we must meet once more. You have my letters, I dare say.'
" 'I have them all.'
" 'Well, you must bring them to me. But where? And how? I can hardly absent myself at this time. My youngest daughter--our daughter, Jacques--is very ill. Still, an end must be made. Let us see, on Thursday--are you free then? Yes. Very well, then come on Thursday evening, towards nine o'clock, to Valpinson. You will find me at the edge of the wood, near the towers of the old castle, which my husband has repaired.'
" 'Is that quite prudent?' I asked.
" 'Have I ever left any thing to chance?' she replied, 'and would I be apt, at this time, to be imprudent? Rely on me. Come, we must part, Jacques. Thursday, and be punctual!'
"Was I really free? Was the chain really broken? And had I become once more my own master?
"I thought so, and in my almost delirious joy I forgave the countess all the anxieties of the last year. What do I say? I began to accuse myself of injustice and cruelty. I admired her for sacrificing herself to my happiness. I felt, in the fulness of my gratitude, like kneeling down, and kissing the hem of her dress.
"It had become useless now to confide my secret to M. de Chandore. Imight have gone back to Boiscoran. But I was more than half-way; Ikept on; and, when I reached Sauveterre, my face bore such evident trances of my relief, that Dionysia said to me,--" 'Something very pleasant must have happened to you, Jacques.'
"Oh, yes, very pleasant! For the first time, I breathed freely as Isat by her side. I could love her now, without fearing that my love might be fatal to her.
"This security did not last long. As I considered the matter, Ithought it very singular that the countess should have chosen such a place for our meeting.
" 'Can it be a trap?' I asked, as the day drew nearer.
"All day long on Thursday I had the most painful presentiments. If Ihad known how to let the countess know, I should certainly not have gone. But I had no means to send her word; and I knew her well enough to be sure that breaking my word would expose me to her full vengeance. I dined at the usual hour; and, when I had finished, I went up to my room, where I wrote to Dionysia not to expect me that evening, as I should be detained by a matter of the utmost importance.
"I handed the note to Michael, the son of one of my tenants, and told him to carry it to town without losing a minute. Then I tied up all of the countess's letters in a parcel, put it in my pocket, took my gun, and went out. It might have been eight o'clock; but it was still broad daylight."Whether M. Magloire accepted every thing that the prisoner said as truth, or not, he was evidently deeply interested. He had drawn up his chair, and at every statement he uttered half-loud exclamations.