TheHumanComedyScenesFromPoliticalLifeII

By

HonoredeBalzac

THEBROTHERHOODOFCONSOLATION

FIRSTEPISODE.MADAMEDELACHANTERIE

I.THEMALADYOFTHEAGE

On a fine evening in themonth of September, 1836, aman about thirtyyearsofagewas leaningon theparapetof thatquayfromwhichaspectatorcanlookuptheSeinefromtheJardindesPlantestoNotre-Dame,anddown,along the vast perspective of the river, to the Louvre. There is not anotherpointofviewtocomparewithitinthecapitalofideas.Wefeelourselvesonthequarter-deck,asitwere,ofagiganticvessel.WedreamofParisfromthedays of the Romans to those of the Franks, from the Normans to theBurgundians, theMiddle-Ages, theValois,Henri IV.,LouisXIV.,Napoleon,and Louis-Philippe. Vestiges are before us of all those sovereignties, inmonumentsthatrecalltheirmemory.ThecupolaofSainte-GenevievetowersabovetheLatinquarter.Behindusrisesthenobleapsisofthecathedral.TheHotel deVille tells of revolutions; theHotel-Dieu, of themiseries of Paris.AftergazingatthesplendorsoftheLouvrewecan,bytakingtwosteps,lookdown upon the rags and tatters of that ignoble nest of houses huddlingbetween the quai de laTournelle and theHotel-Dieu,—a foul spot,which amodernmunicipalityisendeavoringatthepresentmomenttoremove.

In 1836 this marvellous scene presented still another lesson to the eye:betweentheParisianleaningontheparapetandthecathedrallaythe“Terrain”(suchwastheancientnameofthisbarrenspot),stillstrewnwiththeruinsofthe Archiepiscopal Palace. When we contemplate from that quay so manycommemorating scenes, when the soul has grasped the past as it does thepresentofthiscityofParis,thenindeedReligionseemstohavealightedthereasiftospreadherhandsabovethesorrowsofbothbanksandextendherarmsfromthefaubourgSaint-AntoinetothefaubourgSaint-Marceau.Letushopethat this sublime unity may be completed by the erection of an episcopalpalace of the Gothic order; which shall replace the formless buildings nowstandingbetweenthe“Terrain,” therued’Arcole, thecathedral,andthequaidelaCite.

Thisspot,theheartofancientParis,istheloneliestandmostmelancholyofregions.ThewatersoftheSeinebreaktherenoisily,thecathedralcastsitsshadowsatthesettingofthesun.Wecaneasilybelievethatseriousthoughtsmusthavefilledthemindofamanafflictedwithamoralmaladyasheleaneduponthatparapet.Attractedperhapsbytheharmonybetweenhisthoughtsand

those towhich thesediversescenesgavebirth,he restedhishandsupon thecoping and gaveway to a double contemplation,—of Paris, and of himself!The shadows deepened, the lights shone out afar, but still he did notmove,carriedalongashewasonthecurrentofameditation,suchascomestomanyofus,bigwiththefutureandrenderedsolemnbythepast.

Afterawhileheheardtwopersonscomingtowardshim,whosevoiceshadcaughthisattentiononthebridgewhichjoinstheIledelaCitewiththequaide la Tournelle. These persons no doubt thought themselves alone, andthereforespokelouderthantheywouldhavedoneinmorefrequentedplaces.Thevoicesbetrayedadiscussionwhichapparently, from the fewwords thatreachedtheearoftheinvoluntarylistener,relatedtoaloanofmoney.Justasthepairapproachedthequay,oneofthem,dressedlikeaworkingman,lefttheother with a despairing gesture. The other stopped and called after him,saying:—

“You have not a sou to pay your way across the bridge. Take this,” headded,givingthemanapieceofmoney;“andremember,myfriend,thatGodHimselfisspeakingtouswhenagoodthoughtcomesintoourhearts.”

This last remarkmade the dreamer at the parapet quiver. Themanwhomade it little knew that, to use a proverbial expression, hewas killing twobirds with one stone, addressing two miseries,—a working life brought todespair, a suffering soul without a compass, the victim of what Panurge’ssheepcallprogress,andwhat,inFrance,iscalledequality.Thewords,simpleinthemselves,becamesublimefromthetoneofhimwhosaidthem,inavoicethatpossessesaspell.Aretherenot,infact,somecalmandtendervoicesthatproduceuponusthesameeffectasafarhorizonoutlook?

Byhisdressthedreamerknewhimtobeapriest,andhesawbythelastgleamsofthefadingtwilightawhite,august,wornface.Thesightofapriestissuing from the beautiful cathedral of Saint-Etienne inVienna, bearing theExtremeUnction to a dying person, determined the celebrated tragic authorWernertobecomeaCatholic.Almostthesameeffectwasproduceduponthedreamerwhen he looked upon themanwho had, all unknowing, given himcomfort; on the threatening horizon of his future he saw a luminous spacewhereshonetheblueofether,andhefollowedthatlightastheshepherdsoftheGospel followed thevoices thatcried to them:“Christ, theLord, isbornthisday.”

Themanwhohadsaidthebeneficentwordspassedonbythewallofthecathedral,taking,asaresultofchance,whichoftenleadstogreatresults,thedirectionofthestreetfromwhichthedreamercame,andtowhichhewasnowreturning,ledbythefaultsofhislife.

This dreamer was named Godefroid. Whoever reads this history will

understandthereasonswhichleadthewritertousetheChristiannamesonlyofsomewhoarementionedinit.ThemotiveswhichledGodefroid,wholivedinthequarteroftheChaussee-d’Antin,totheneighborhoodofNotre-Dameatsuchanhourwereasfollows:—

The sonof a retail shopkeeper,whose economyenabledhim to laybyasort of fortune, hewas the soleobject of ambition tohis father andmother,whodreamedof seeinghimanotary inParis.For this reason, at the ageofseven,hewassent toan institution, thatof theAbbeLiautard, tobe thrownamongchildrenofdistinguishedfamilieswho,during theEmpire,chose thisschool for the education of their sons in preference to the lyceums, wherereligion was too much overlooked. Social inequalities were not noticeableamongschoolmates;butin1821,hisstudiesbeingended,Godefroid,whowasthenwithanotary,becameawareofthedistancethatseparatedhimfromthosewithwhomhehadhithertolivedonfamiliarterms.

Obliged to go through the law school, he there found himself among acrowd of the sons of the bourgeoisie, who, without fortunes to inherit orhereditary distinctions, could look only to their own personal merits or topersistent toil. The hopes that his father and mother, then retired frombusiness,placeduponhimstimulated theyouth’svanitywithoutexcitinghispride. His parents lived simply, like the thrifty Dutch, spending only onefourthof an incomeof twelve thousand francs.They intended their savings,togetherwithhalftheircapital,forthepurchaseofanotary’spracticefortheirson. Subjected to the rule of this domestic economy, Godefroid found hisimmediatestatesodisproportioned to thevisionsofhimselfandhisparents,that he grew discouraged. In some feeble natures discouragement turns toenvy; others, in whom necessity, will, reflection, stand in place of talent,marchstraightand resolutely in thepath tracedout forbourgeoisambitions.Godefroid, on the contrary, revolted, wished to shine, tried several brilliantways, and blinded his eyes. He endeavored to succeed; but all his effortsended in proving the fact of his own impotence. Admitting at last theinequalitythatexistedbetweenhisdesiresandhiscapacities,hebegantohateallsocialsupremacies,becameaLiberal,andattemptedtoreachcelebritybywritingabook;buthelearned,tohiscost,toregardtalentashedidnobility.Having tried the law, the notariat, and literature, without distinguishinghimselfinanyway,hismindnowturnedtothemagistracy.

About this timehis fatherdied.Hismother,whocontentedherself inherold age with two thousand francs a year, gave the rest of the fortune toGodefroid.Thuspossessed,attheageoftwenty-five,oftenthousandfrancsayear,hefelthimselfrich;andhewasso,relativelytothepast.Untilthenhislifehadbeenspentonactswithoutwill,onwishesthatwereimpotent;now,toadvancewiththeage,toact,toplayapart,heresolvedtoentersomecareeror

find some connection that should further his fortunes. He first thought ofjournalism,whichalwaysopens itsarms toanycapital thatmaycome in itsway.Tobetheownerofanewspaperistobecomeapersonageatonce;suchamanworksintellect,andhasallthegratificationsofitandnoneofthelabor.Nothingismoretemptingtoinferiormindsthantobeabletoriseinthiswayonthe talentsofothers.Parishasseen twoor threeparvenusof thiskind,—menwhosesuccessisadisgrace,bothtotheepochandtothosewhohavelentthemtheirshoulders.

InthissphereGodefroidwassoonoutdonebythebrutalMachiavellianismof some,orby the lavishprodigalityofothers;by the fortunesof ambitiouscapitalists,orbythewitandshrewdnessofeditors.Meantimehewasdrawnintoallthedissipationsthatarisefromliteraryorpoliticallife,andheyieldedto the temptations incurred by journalists behind the scenes.He soon foundhimself in bad company; but this experience taught him that his appearancewasinsignificant,thathehadoneshoulderhigherthantheother,withouttheinequalitybeing redeemedbyeithermalignancyorkindnessofnature.Suchwerethetruthstheseartistsmadehimfeel.

Small, ill-made, without superiority of mind or settled purpose, whatchancewas there for aman like that in an agewhen success in any careerdemands that the highest qualities of the mind be furthered by luck, or bytenacityofwillwhichcommandsluck.

Therevolutionof1830stanchedGodefroid’swounds.Hehadthecourageofhope,which is equal to thatofdespair.Heobtainedan appointment, likeotherobscurejournalists,toagovernmentsituationintheprovinces,wherehisliberal ideas, conflictingwith the necessities of the newpower,madehim atroublesome instrument.Bittenwith liberalism,hedidnotknow, as cleverermen did, how to steer a course. Obedience to ministers he regarded assacrificing his opinions. Besides, the government seemed to him to bedisobeyingthelawsofitsownorigin.Godefroiddeclaredforprogress,wherethe object of the governmentwas tomaintain the statu quo.He returned toParisalmostpoor,butfaithfulstilltothedoctrinesoftheOpposition.

Alarmedbytheexcessesofthepress,morealarmedstillbytheattemptedoutragesof the republicanparty, he sought in retirement from theworld theonly life suitable for a beingwhose facultieswere incomplete, andwithoutsufficient force to bear up against the rough jostling of political life, thestruggles and sufferings ofwhich confer no credit,—a being, too, whowasweariedwithhismanymiscarriages;withoutfriends,forfriendshipdemandseither strikingmerits or striking defects, and yet possessing a sensibility ofsoulmoredreamythanprofound.Surelyaretiredlifewasthecourseleftforayoung man whom pleasure had more than once misled,—whose heart wasalreadyagedbycontactwithaworldasrestlessasitwasdisappointing.

Hismother,whowasdyinginthepeacefulvillageofAuteuil,recalledhersontolivewithher,partlytohavehimnearher,andpartlytoputhiminthewayoffindinganequable,tranquilhappinesswhichmightsatisfyasoullikehis. She had ended by judgingGodefroid, finding him at twenty-eightwithtwo-thirds of his fortune gone, his desires dulled, his pretended capacitiesextinct,hisactivitydead,hisambitionhumbled,andhishatredagainstallthatreachedlegitimatesuccessincreasedbyhisownshortcomings.

She tried tomarryhimtoanexcellentyounggirl, theonlydaughterofaretired merchant,—a woman well fitted to play the part of guardian to thesickened soul of her son.But the father had the business spiritwhichneverabandonsanoldmerchant,especiallyinmatrimonialnegotiations,andafterayearofattentionsandneighborlyintercourse,Godefroidwasnotaccepted.Inthe first place, his former career seemed to theseworthy people profoundlyimmoral;then,duringthisveryyear,hehadmadestillfurtherinroadsintohiscapital, asmuch todazzle theparentsas toplease thedaughter.Thisvanity,excusable as it was, caused his final rejection by the family, who helddissipation of property in holy horror, and who now discovered that in sixyearsGodefroidhadspentor lostahundredandfifty thousandfrancsofhiscapital.

Thisblowstrucktheyoungman’salreadywoundedheartthemoredeeplybecausethegirlherselfhadnopersonalbeauty.But,guidedbyhismotherinjudginghercharacter,hehadendedby recognizing in thewomanhe soughtthegreatvalueofanearnestsoul,andthevastadvantagesofasoundmind.Hehadgrownaccustomedtotheface;hehadstudiedthecountenance;helovedthe voice, the manners, the glance of that young girl. Having cast on thisattachment the last stake of his life, the disappointment he enduredwas thebitterest of all. Hismother died, and he found himself, hewho had alwaysdesired luxury, with five thousand francs a year for his whole fortune, andwith the certainty that never in his future life could he repair any losswhatsoever;forhefelthimselfincapableoftheeffortexpressedinthatterribleinjunction,tomakehisway.

Weak, impatient grief cannot easily be shakenoff.Duringhismourning,GodefroidtriedthevariouschancesanddistractionsofParis;hedinedattable-d’hotes;hemadeacquaintancesheedlessly;he sought society,withno resultbutthatofincreasinghisexpenditures.Walkingalongtheboulevards,heoftensuffereddeeplyatthesightofamotherwalkingwithamarriageabledaughter,—asightwhichcausedhimaspainfulanemotionasheformerlyfeltwhenayoungmanpassedhimriding to theBois,ordriving inanelegantequipage.Thesenseofhisimpotencetoldhimthathecouldneverhopeforthebestofeven secondary positions, nor for any easily won career; and he had heartenough to feel constantlywounded,mindenough tomake inhisownbreast

thebitterestofelegies.

Unfittedtostruggleagainstcircumstances,havinganinwardconsciousnessof superior faculties without the will that could put them in action, feelinghimself incomplete, without force to undertake any great thing, withoutresistanceagainstthetastesderivedfromhisearlierlife,hiseducation,andhisindolence, hewas the victimof threemaladies, any one ofwhichwould beenoughtosickenoflifeayoungmanlongalienatedfromreligiousfaith.

Thus it was that Godefroid presented, even to the eye, the face that wemeetsoofteninParisthatitmightbecalledthetypeoftheParisian;initwemayseeambitionsdeceivedordead,inwardwretchedness,hatredsleepingintheindolenceofalifepassedinwatchingthedailyandexternallifeofParis,apathywhichseeksstimulation,lamentwithouttalent,amimicryofstrength,thevenomofpastdisappointmentswhichexcitestocynicism,andspitsuponallthatenlargesandgrows,misconceivesallnecessaryauthority,rejoicinginitsembarrassments,andwillnotholdtoanysocialform.ThisParisianmaladyis to the active and permanent impulse towards conspiracy in persons ofenergywhatthesapwoodistothesapofthetrees;itpreservesit,feedsit,andconcealsit.

II.OLDHOUSE,OLDPEOPLE,OLDCUSTOMS

Wearyofhimself,Godefroidattemptedoneday togiveameaning tohislife, aftermeetinga former comradewhohadbeen the tortoise in the fable,whileheinearlierdayshadbeenthehare.Inoneofthoseconversationswhicharise when schoolmates meet again in after years,—a conversation held astheywerewalkingtogetherinthesunshineontheboulevarddesItaliens,—hewasstartledtolearnthesuccessofamanendowedapparentlywithlessgifts,lessmeans,lessfortunethanhimself;butwhohadbenthiswilleachmorningtothepurposeresolveduponthenightbefore.Thesicksoulthendeterminedtoimitatethatsimpleaction.

“Socialexistenceislikethesoil,”hiscomradehadsaidtohim;“itmakesusareturninproportiontoourefforts.”

Godefroidwas in debt.As a first test, a first task, he resolved to live insomeretiredplace,andpayhisdebtsfromhisincome.Toamanaccustomedtospendsixthousandfrancswhenhehadbutfive,itwasnosmallundertakingto bring himself to live on two thousand. Every morning he studiedadvertisements,hoping to find theofferof someasylumwherehisexpensescouldbefixed,wherehemighthavethesolitudeamanwantswhenhemakes

a return upon himself, examines himself, and endeavors to give himself avocation.Themannersandcustomsofbourgeoisboarding-housesshockedhisdelicacy,sanitariumsseemedtohimunhealthy,andhewasabouttofallbackinto the fatal irresolution of persons without will, when the followingadvertisementmethiseye:—

“To Let. A small lodging for seventy francs a month; suitable for anecclesiastic. A quiet tenant desired. Board supplied; the rooms can befurnishedatamoderatecostifmutuallyacceptable.

“Inquire ofM.Millet, grocer, rueChanoinesse, nearNotre-Dame,whereallfurtherinformationcanbeobtained.”

Attractedby a certainkindliness concealedbeneath thesewords, and themiddle-class airwhich exhaled from them,Godefroid had, on the afternoonwhenwefoundhimonthequay,calledatfouro’clockonthegrocer,whotoldhimthatMadamedelaChanteriewasthendining,anddidnotreceiveanyonewhenathermeals.The lady,he said,wasvisible in theeveningafter seveno’clock,orinthemorningbetweentenandtwelve.Whilespeaking,MonsieurMilletexaminedGodefroid,andmadehimsubmittowhatmagistratescallthe“firstdegreeofinterrogation.”

“Wasmonsieurunmarried?Madamewishedapersonofregularhabits;thegatewasclosedatelevenatthelatest.MonsieurcertainlyseemedofanagetosuitMadamedelaChanterie.”

“Howolddoyouthinkme?”askedGodefroid.

“Aboutforty!”repliedthegrocer.

This ingenuousanswer threwtheyoungman intoastateofmisanthropicgloom.HewentoffanddinedatarestaurantonthequaidelaTournelle,andafterwards went to the parapet to contemplate Notre-Dame at the momentwhen the fires of the setting sun were rippling and breaking about themanifoldbuttressesoftheapsis.

The youngmanwas floating between the promptings of despair and themoving voice of religious harmonies sounding in the bell of the cathedralwhen, amid the shadows, the silence, the half-veiled light of the moon, heheardthewordsofthepriest.Though,likemostofthesonsofourcentury,hewasfarfromreligious,hissensibilitiesweretouchedbythosewords,andhereturnedtotherueChanoinesse,althoughhehadalmostmadeuphismindnottodoso.

ThepriestandGodefroidwerebothsurprisedwhentheyenteredtogethertherueMassilon,whichisoppositetothesmallnorthportalofthecathedral,andturnedtogetherintotherueChanoinesse,atthepointwhere,towardsthe

rue de la Colombe, it becomes the rue des Marmousets. When GodefroidstoppedbeforethearchedportalofMadamedelaChanterie’shouse,thepriestturnedtowardshimandexaminedhimbythelightofthehangingstreet-lamp,probablyoneofthelasttodisappearfromtheheartofoldParis.

“Have you come to see Madame de la Chanterie, monsieur?” said thepriest.

“Yes,” replied Godefroid. “The words I heard you say to that workmanshowmethat,ifyoulivehere,thishousemustbesalutaryforthesoul.”

“Then you were a witness of my defeat,” said the priest, raising theknockerofthedoor,“forIdidnotsucceed.”

“I thought,on thecontrary, itwas theworkmanwhodidnotsucceed;hedemandedmoneyenergetically.”

“Alas!”repliedthepriest,“oneofthegreatevilsofrevolutionsinFranceisthateachoffersafreshpremiumtotheambitionsofthelowerclasses.Togetoutofhiscondition,tomakehisfortune(whichisregardedto-dayastheonlysocial standard), the working-man throws himself into some of thosemonstrous associations which, if they do not succeed, ought to bring thespeculatorstoaccountbeforehumanjustice.Thisiswhattrustsoftenleadto.”

Theporteropenedaheavydoor.ThepriestsaidtoGodefroid:“Monsieurhasperhapscomeaboutthelittlesuiteofrooms?”

“Yes,monsieur.”

ThepriestandGodefroidthencrossedawidecourtyard,atthefartherendofwhich loomed darkly a tall house flanked by a square towerwhich roseabovetheroof,andappearedtobeinadilapidatedcondition.WhoeverknowsthehistoryofParis,knows that the soilbeforeandaround thecathedralhasbeen so raised that there is not a vestige now of the twelve steps whichformerlyleduptoit.To-daythebaseofthecolumnsoftheporchisonalevelwiththepavement;consequentlywhatwasoncetheground-floorofthehouseofwhichwespeakisnowitscellar.Aportico,reachedbyafewsteps,leadstotheentranceofthetower,inwhichaspiralstairwaywindsuproundacentralshaftcarvedwithagrape-vine.Thisstyle,whichrecallsthestairwaysofLouisXII.atthechateauofBlois,datesfromthefourteenthcentury.Struckbytheseand other evidences of antiquity, Godefroid could not help saying, with asmile,tothepriest:“Thistowerisnotofyesterday.”

“It sustained, they say, an assault of theNormans, and probably formedpartofthefirstpalaceofthekingsofParis;but,accordingtoactualtradition,it was certainly the dwelling of the famous Canon Fulbert, the uncle ofHeloise.”

As he ended these words, the priest opened the door of the apartmentwhich appeared now to be the ground-floor of the house, butwas in realitytowardsboththefrontandbackcourtyard(fortherewasasmallinteriorcourt)onthefirstfloor.

Intheantechamberamaid-servant,wearingacambriccapwithflutedfrillsforitssoledecoration,wasknittingbythelightofalittlelamp.Shestuckherneedlesintoherhair,heldherworkinherhand,androsetoopenthedoorofasalon which looked out on the inner court. The dress of the woman wassomewhatlikethatoftheSistersofMercy.

“Madame, Ibringyoua tenant,” said thepriest, usheringGodefroid intothesalon,wherethelattersawthreepersonssittinginarmchairsnearMadamedelaChanterie.

These three persons rose; themistress of the house rose; then,when thepriest had drawn up another armchair for Godefroid, and when the futuretenant had seated himself in obedience to a gesture of Madame de laChanterie, accompanied by the old-fashionedwords, “Be seated,monsieur,”theman of the boulevards fancied himself at some enormous distance fromParis,—inlowerBrittanyorthewildsofCanada.

Silence has perhaps its own degrees.Godefroid, already penetratedwiththesilenceoftheruesMassillonandChanoinesse,wheretwocarriagesdonotpass in amonth, andgraspedby the silenceof the courtyard and the tower,mayhavefeltthathehadreachedtheveryheartofsilenceinthisstillsalon,guardedbysomanyoldstreets,oldcourts,oldwalls.

This part of the Ile, which is called “the Cloister,” has preserved thecharacterofallcloisters;itisdamp,cold,andmonasticallysilentevenatthenoisiesthoursoftheday.Itwillberemarked,also,thatthisportionoftheCite,crowdedbetweentheflankofNotre-Dameandtheriver,facesthenorth,andis always in the shadow of the cathedral. The east winds swirl through itunopposed, and the fogs of the Seine are caught and retained by the blackwallsoftheoldmetropolitanchurch.Noonewillthereforebesurprisedatthesensations Godefroid felt when he found himself in this old dwelling, inpresence of four silent human beings, who seemed as solemn as the thingswhichsurroundedthem.

Hedidnotlookabouthim,beingseizedwithcuriosityastoMadamedelaChanterie,whosenamewasalreadyapuzzletohim.Thisladywasevidentlyapersonofanotherepoch,nottosayofanotherworld.Herfacewasplacid,itstonesbothsoftandcold;thenoseaquiline;theforeheadfullofsweetness;theeyesbrown; the chindouble; and allwere framed in silverywhite hair.Hergowncouldonlybecalledby itsancientnameof“fourreau,”so tightlywasshesheathedwithinit,afterthefashionoftheeighteenthcentury.Thematerial

—abrownsilk,withveryfineandmultipliedgreenlines—seemedalsoofthatperiod.Thebodice,whichwasonewiththeskirt,waspartlyhiddenbeneathamantleofpoult-de-soieedgedwithblacklace,andfastenedonthebosombyabrooch enclosing a miniature. Her feet, in black velvet boots, rested on acushion.MadamedelaChanterie,likehermaid,wasknittingastocking,andshe, too, had a needle stuck throughherwhite curls beneath the laceof hercap.

“HaveyouseenMonsieurMillet?”shesaidtoGodefroid,intheheadvoicepeculiar to the dowagers of the faubourg Saint-Germain, observing that hervisitorseemedconfused,andasiftoputthewordsintohismouth.

“Yes,madame.”

“I fear that the apartment will scarcely suit you,” she said, noticing theeleganceandnewnessofhisclothes.

Godefroidwaswearing polished leather boots, yellow gloves, handsomestuds, and a very pretty gold chain passed through the buttonhole of hiswaistcoatofblacksilkwithblueflowers.MadamedelaChanterietookalittlesilverwhistlefromherpocketandblewit.Theserving-womancame.

“Manon, my child, show this gentleman the apartment.Would you, mydearvicar,besokindastoaccompanyhim?”shesaid,addressingthepriest.“If by chance,” she added, rising and again looking at Godefroid, “theapartmentsuitsyou,wewilltalkoftheconditions.”

Godefroidbowedandwentout.HeheardtherattleofkeyswhichManontook from a drawer, and he saw her light the candle in a large brasscandlestick. Manon went first, without uttering a word. When Godefroidfoundhimselfagainon thestaircase,windingup twoflights,hedoubted therealityoflife,hedreamedawake,hesawwithhiseyesthefantasticworldofromanceshehad read inhis idlehours.AnyParisian leaving,ashedid, themodern quarter, with its luxury of houses and furniture, the glitter of itsrestaurantsandtheatres,thetumultandmovementoftheheartofParis,wouldhavesharedhisfeeling.

Thecandlecarriedby thewoman feebly lighted thewindingstair,wherespiders swung their draperies gray with dust. Manon wore a petticoat withheavyplaitsofacoarsewoollenstuff;thebodicewassquarebeforeandsquarebehind, and all her clothes seemed to hang together.When she reached thesecond floor, which, it will be remembered, was actually the third, Manonstopped,turnedakeyinanancientlock,andopenedadoorpaintedinacoarseimitationofmahogany.

“Thisisit,”shesaid,enteringfirst.

Wasitamiser,wasitanartistdyinginpenury,wasitacynictowhomtheworld was naught, or some religious soul detached from life, who hadoccupiedthisapartment?Thattriplequestionmightwellbeaskedbyonewhobreathed theodorof thatpoverty,whosawthegreasyspotsuponthepapersyellow with smoke, the blackened ceilings, the dusty windows with theircasementpanes,thediscoloredfloor-bricks,thewainscotslayeredwithasortof stickyglaze.Adampchill came from thechimneyswith theirmantelsofpaintedstone,surmountedbymirrorsinpanelsofthestyleoftheseventeenthcentury.The apartmentwas square, like thehouse, and lookedoutupon theinnercourt,whichcouldnotnowbeseenbecauseofthedarkness.

“Whohaslivedhere?”askedGodefroidofthepriest.

“A former councillor of the parliament, a great-uncle of madame,MonsieurdeBoisfrelon.After theRevolutionhe fell intodotage;buthedidnotdieuntil1832,attheageofninety-six.Madamecouldnotatfirstmakeuphermindtolethisroomstoastranger,butshefindsshecannotaffordtolosetherent.”

“Madamewill have the apartment cleaned and furnished in amanner tosatisfymonsieur,”saidManon.

“Thatwilldependonthearrangementyoumakewithher,”saidthepriest.“Youhavehereafineparlor,alargesleeping-roomandcloset,andthoselittleroomsintheanglewillmakeanexcellentstudy.Itisthesamearrangementasinmyapartmentbelow,alsointheoneoverhead.”

“Yes,”saidManon,“MonsieurAlain’sapartmentisjustlikethis,onlyhishasaviewofthetower.”

“IthinkIhadbetterseetheroomsbydaylight,”saidGodefroid,timidly.

“Perhapsso,”saidManon.

ThepriestandGodefroidwentdownstairs,leavingthewomantolockthedoors.Whentheyre-enteredthesalon,Godefroid,whowasgettinginuredtothe surroundings, looked about him while discoursing with Madame de laChanterie,andexaminedthepersonsandthingstherepresent.

The salon had curtains at its windows of old red damask, withlambrequins, tied back at the sides with silken cords. The red-tiled floorshowed at the edges of an old tapestry carpet too small to cover thewholeroom.Thewoodworkwaspaintedgray.Theplasteredceiling,dividedintwopartsbyaheavybeamwhichstartedfromthefireplace,seemedaconcessiontardilymade to luxury.Armchairs,with theirwoodworkpaintedwhite,werecoveredwith tapestry.A paltry clock, between two copper-gilt candlesticks,decorated themantel-shelf. BesideMadame de la Chanteriewas an ancient

tablewithspindlelegs,onwhichlayherballsofworstedinawickerbasket.Ahydrostatic lamp lighted the scene. The four men, who were seated there,silent, immovable, like bronze statues, had evidently stopped theirconversation with Madame de la Chanterie when they heard the strangerreturning. They all had cold, discreet faces, in keeping with the room, thehouse,thequarterofthetown.

MadamedelaChanterieadmittedthejusticeofGodefroid’sobservations;but told him that she did not wish tomake any change until she knew theintentions of her lodger, or rather her boarder. If he would conform to thecustomsof thehousehe couldbecomeher boarder; but these customswerewidely different from those of Paris. Life in the rue Chanoinesse was likeprovincial life: the lodger must always be in by ten o’clock at night; theydisliked noise; and could have no women or children to break up theircustomaryhabits.Anecclesiasticmightconformtotheseways.MadamedelaChanterie desired, above all, some one of simple life, who would not beexacting; she could afford to put only the strictest necessaries into theapartment.MonsieurAlain(hereshedesignatedoneofthefourmenpresent)wassatisfied,andshewoulddoforanewtenantjustasshedidfortheothers.

“I do not think,” said the priest, “that monsieur is inclined to enter ourconvent.”

“Eh!whynot?” saidMonsieurAlain;“weareallwelloffhere;wehavenothingtocomplainof.”

“Madame,”saidGodefroid,rising,“Ishallhavethehonorofcallingagainto-morrow.”

Though he was a young man, the four old men and Madame de laChanterie rose, and the vicar accompanied him to the portico. A whistlesounded.Atthatsignaltheportercamewithalantern,guidedGodefroidtothestreet,andclosedbehindhimtheenormousyellowdoor,—ponderousas thatof a prison, and decoratedwith arabesque ironwork of a remote period thatwasdifficulttodetermine.

ThoughGodefroidgotintoacabriolet,andwassoonrollingintotheliving,lighted, glowing regions of Paris, what he had seen still appeared to him adream, and his impressions, as he made his way along the boulevard desItaliens,hadalreadytheremotenessofamemory.Heaskedhimself,“ShallIto-morrowfindthosepeoplethere?”

III.THEHOUSEOFMONGENOD

Thenextday,asGodefroidroseamidtheappointmentsofmodernluxuryandthechoiceappliancesofEnglish“comfort,”herememberedthedetailsofhisvisittothatcloisterofNotre-Dame,andthemeaningofthethingshehadseen there came into his mind. The three unknown and silent men, whosedress, attitude, and stillness acted powerfully upon him, were no doubtboarders like the priest. The solemnity of Madame de la Chanterie nowseemed to him a secret dignitywithwhich she bore some greatmisfortune.Butstill,inspiteoftheexplanationswhichGodefroidgavehimself,hecouldnothelpfancyingtherewasanairofmysteryaboutthosesoberfigures.

He lookedaroundhimandselected thepiecesof furniture thathewouldkeep, those thatwere indispensable tohim;butwhenhe transported theminthoughttothemiserablelodgingintherueChanoinesse,hebegantolaughatthecontrasttheywouldmakethere,resolvingtosellallandletMadamedelaChanteriefurnishtheroomsforhim.Hewantedanewlife,andtheverysightof theseobjectswould remindhimof thatwhichhewished to forget. Inhisdesirefortransformation(forhebelongedtothosecharacterswhospringataboundintothemiddleofasituation, insteadofadvancing,asothersdo,stepbystep),hewasseizedwhilehebreakfastedwithanidea,—hewouldturnhiswhole property into money, pay his debts, and place the remainder of hiscapitalinthebanking-housewithwhichhisfatherhaddonebusiness.

ThishousewasthefirmofMongenodandCompany,establishedin1816or 1817, whose reputation for honesty and uprightness had never beenquestionedinthemidstofthecommercialdepravitywhichsmirched,moreorless, all the banking-houses of Paris. In spite of their immense wealth, thehousesofNucingen,duTillet,theKellerBrothers,PalmaandCompany,wereeach regarded, more or less, with secret disrespect, although it is true thisdisrespect was only whispered. Evil means had produced such fine results,such political successes, dynastic principles covered so completely baseworkings,thatnoonein1834thoughtofthemudinwhichtherootsofthesefinetrees,themainstayoftheState,wereplunged.Neverthelesstherewasnotasingleoneof thosegreatbankers towhomtheconfidenceexpressedin thehouseofMongenodwasnot awound.LikeEnglishhouses, theMongenodsmadenoexternaldisplayofluxury.Theylivedindignifiedstillness,satisfiedto do their business prudently, wisely, and with a stern uprightness whichenabledthemtocarryitfromoneendoftheglobetotheother.

Theactualheadofthehouse,FredericMongenod,isthebrother-in-lawoftheVicomtedeFontaine;therefore,thisnumerousfamilyisalliedthroughtheBarondeFontainetoMonsieurGrossetete,thereceiver-general,brotheroftheGrossetete and Company of Limoges, to the Vandenesses, and to Planat deBaudry,anotherreceiver-general.Theseconnections,havingprocuredforthelateMongenod, father of the present head of the house,many favors in the

financial operations under the Restoration, obtained for him also theconfidence of the old noblesse, whose property and whose savings, whichwereimmense,weredepositedinthisbank.Farfromcovetingapeerage,liketheKellers,Nucingen,andduTillet,theMongenodskeptawayfrompolitics,andonlyknewasmuchaboutthemastheirbankinginterestsdemanded.

ThehouseofMongenodisestablishedinafineoldmansionintheruedelaVictoire,whereMadameMongenod,themother,livedwithhertwosons,allthree beingpartners in the house,—the share of theVicomtesse deFontainehavingbeenboughtoutbythemonthedeathoftheelderMongenodin1827.

FredericMongenod,ahandsomeyoungmanaboutthirty-fiveyearsofage,cold,silent,andreservedinmannerlikeaSwiss,andneatasanEnglishman,hadacquiredby intercoursewithhisfatherall thequalitiesnecessaryforhisdifficultprofession.Bettereducatedthanthegeneralityofbankers,hisstudieshad thebreadthanduniversalitywhichcharacterize thepolytechnic training;andhehad,likemostbankers,predilectionsandtastesoutsideofhisbusiness,—helovedmechanicsandchemistry.Thesecondbrother,whowastenyearsyoungerthanFrederic,heldthesamepositionintheofficeofhiselderbrotherthataheadclerkholdsinthatofanotaryorlawyer.Frederictrainedhim,ashehadhimselfbeentrainedbyhisfather,inthevarietyofknowledgenecessarytoatruebanker,whoistomoneywhatawriteristoideas,—theymustbothknowallofthatwithwhichtheyhavetodeal.

WhenGodefroidreachedthebankinghouseandgavehisname,hesawatonce the estimation in which his father had been held; for he was usheredthrough the offices without delay to the private counting-room of theMongenods. This counting-room was closed with a glass door, so thatGodefroid,without any desire to listen, overheard as he approached itwhatwasbeingsaidthere.

“Madame,youraccount isbalanced tosixteenhundred thousand francs,”saidtheyoungerMongenod.“Idonotknowwhatmybrother’sintentionsare;he alone can say whether an advance of a hundred thousand francs can bemade. You must have been imprudent. Sixteen hundred thousand francsshouldnotbeentrustedtoanybusiness.”

“Donot speakso loud,Louis!” saidawoman’svoice.“Yourbrotherhasoften toldyou to speak in a lowvoice.Theremaybe someone in thenextroom.”

At this moment Frederic Mongenod himself opened the door ofcommunication between his private house and the counting-room. He sawGodefroid and crossed the room, bowing respectfully to the lady who wasconversingwithhisbrother.

“TowhomhaveIthehonorofspeaking?”hesaidtoGodefroid.

As soon asGodefroidgavehis name,Frederic beggedhim tobe seated;andas thebankeropened the lidofhisdesk,LouisMongenodand the lady,whowasnootherthanMadamedelaChanterie,roseandwentuptohim.Allthree thenmoved into theembrasureofawindowand talked ina lowvoicewithMadameMongenod,themother,whowassittingthere,andtowhomallthe affairs of thebankwere confided.Forover thirtyyears thiswomanhadgiven, to her husband first and then to her sons, such proofs of businesssagacitythatshehadlongbeenamanagingpartnerinthefirmandsignedforit.

Godefroid, as he looked about him, noticed on a shelf certain boxesticketedwith thewords “De laChanterie,” and numbered 1 to 7.When theconference was ended by the banker saying to his brother, “Very good; godowntothecashier,”MadamedelaChanterie turnedround,sawGodefroid,checkedagestureofsurprise,andaskedafewquestionsofthebankerinalowvoice,towhichherepliedinafewwordsspokenequallyinawhisper.

MadamedelaChanterienowworegraysilkstockingsandsmallprunellashoes;hergownwasthesameasbefore,butshewaswrappedinaVenetian“mantua,”—asortofcloakwhichwasjustthenreturningintofashion.Onherheadwasadrawnbonnetofgreensilk,linedwithwhitesilk,ofastylecalledalabonnefemme.Herfacewasframedbyacloudoflace.Sheheldherselfveryerect,inanattitudewhichbespoke,ifnotnoblebirth,certainlythehabitsofanaristocraticlife.Withouttheextremeaffabilityofhermanner,shemighthaveseemedhaughty;shewascertainlyimposing.

“It is thewillofProvidence rather thanmerechance thathasbroughtusheretogether,monsieur,”shesaidtoGodefroid;“forIhadalmostdecidedtorefusealodgerwhosewaysoflifeseemedtomequiteantipathetictothoseofmyhousehold;butMonsieurMongenodhasjustgivenmesomeinformationaboutyourfamilywhich—”

“Ah,madame,—monsieur!” saidGodefroid, addressingbothMadamedelaChanterieandthebanker,“Ihavenolongerafamily;andIhavecomeherenow to ask some financial advice ofmy father’s business advisers as to thebestmethodofadaptingmymeanstoanewwayoflife.”

Godefroid then succinctly, and in as few words as possible, related hishistory,andexpressedhisdesiretochangehisexistence.

“Formerly,” he said, “aman inmy positionwould havemade himself amonk;buttherearenolongeranyreligiousorders.”

“Go and livewithmadame, if she iswilling to take you,” said FredericMongenod,afterexchangingaglancewithMadamedelaChanterie,“anddo

notselloutyourproperty;leaveitinmyhands.Givemetheexactamountofyourdebts;Iwillagreewithyourcreditorsforpaymentatcertaindates,andyoucanhaveforyourselfaboutahundredandfiftyfrancsamonth.Itwillthustake twoyears to clearyou.During those twoyears, if you take thosequietlodgings,youwillhavetimetothinkofacareer,especiallyamongthepersonswithwhomyouwilllive,whoareallgoodcounsellors.”

HereLouisMongenodreturned,bringinginhishandahundrednotesofathousand francseach,whichhegave toMadamede laChanterie.Godefroidofferedhisarmtohisfuturehostess,andtookherdowntothehackney-coachwhichwaswaitingforher.

“IhopeIshallseeyousoon,monsieur,”shesaidinacordialtoneofvoice.

“Atwhathourshallyoubeathome,madame?”heasked.

“Attwoo’clock.”

“Ishallhavetimetosellmyfurniture,”hesaid,ashebowedtoher.

Duringtheshort timethatMadamedelaChanterie’sarmresteduponhisastheywalkedtothecarriage,Godefroidcouldnotescapetheglamourofthewords:“Youraccountisforsixteenhundredthousandfrancs!”—wordssaidbyLouis Mongenod to the woman whose life was spent in the depths of thecloisters ofNotre-Dame.The thought, “Shemust be rich!” entirely changedhiswayoflookingatthematter.“Howoldisshe?”hebegantoaskhimself;andavisionofaromanceintherueChanoinessecametohim.“Shecertainlyhasanairofnobility!Canshebeconcernedinsomebank?”thoughthe.

Inourdayninehundredandninety-nineyoungmenoutofathousandinGodefroid’spositionwouldhavehadthethoughtofmarryingthatwoman.

A furniture dealer, who also had apartments to let, paid about threethousandfrancsforthearticlesGodefroidwaswillingtosell,andagreedtolethimkeep themduring the fewdays thatwereneeded toprepare the shabbyapartmentintherueChanoinesseforthislodgerwithasickmind.Godefroidwentthereatonce,andobtainedfromMadamedelaChanterietheaddressofa painterwho, for amoderate sum, agreed towhiten the ceilings, clean thewindows,paintthewoodwork,andstainthefloors,withinaweek.Godefroidtookthemeasureoftherooms,intendingtoputthesamecarpetinallofthem,—agreencarpetofthecheapestkind.Hewishedfortheplainestuniformityinthisretreat,andMadamedelaChanterieapprovedoftheidea.Shecalculated,withManon’sassistance,thenumberofyardsofwhitecalicorequiredforthewindowcurtains,andalsoforthoseofthemodestironbed;andsheundertooktobuyandhavethemmadeforapricesomoderateastosurpriseGodefroid.Having brought with him a certain amount of furniture, the whole cost offittinguptheroomsprovedtobenotoversixhundredfrancs.

“Weleadhere,”saidMadamedelaChanterie,“aChristianlife,whichdoesnot,asyouknow,accordwithmanysuperfluities;Ithinkyouhavetoomanyasitis.”

In giving this hint to her future lodger, she looked at a diamondwhichgleamedintheringthroughwhichGodefroid’sbluecravatwasslipped.

“Ionlyspeakofthis,”sheadded,“becauseoftheintentionyouexpressedtoabandonthefrivolouslifeyoucomplainedoftoMonsieurMongenod.”

Godefroid looked at Madame de la Chanterie as he listened to theharmonies of her limpid voice; he examined that face so purely white,resembling those of the cold, grave women of Holland whom the Flemishpaintershavesowonderfullyreproducedwiththeirsmoothskins, inwhichawrinkleisimpossible.

“Whiteandplump!”hesaidtohimself,ashewalkedaway;“butherhairiswhite,too.”

Godefroid, like all weak natures, took readily to a new life, believing itsatisfactory; and he was now quite eager to take up his abode in the rueChanoinesse. Nevertheless, a prudent thought, or, if you prefer to say so, adistrustfulthought,occurredtohim.Twodaysbeforehisinstallation,hewentagain to seeMonsieurMongenod to obtain somemore definite informationaboutthehousehewastoenter.

During thefewmomentshehadspent inhis future lodgingsoverlookingthe changes that were beingmade in them, he had noticed the coming andgoing of several persons whose appearance and behavior, without beingexactlymysterious,excitedabeliefthatsomesecretoccupationorprofessionwasbeingcarriedon in thathouse.At thatparticularperiod therewasmuchtalkofattemptsbytheelderbranchoftheBourbonstorecoverthethrone,andGodefroidsuspectedsomeconspiracy.Whenhefoundhimselfinthebanker’scounting-room held by the scrutinizing eye of FredericMongenodwhile hemadehisinquiry,hefeltashamedashesawaderisivesmileonthelipsofthelistener.

“Madame laBaronnede laChanterie,” replied thebanker, “isoneof themostobscurepersonsinParis,butsheisalsooneofthemosthonorable.Haveyouanyobjectinaskingforinformation?”

Godefroid retreated into generalities: he was going to live amongstrangers; he naturally wished to know something of those with whom heshouldbe intimately thrown.But thebanker’s smilebecamemoreandmoresarcastic; and Godefroid, more andmore embarrassed, was ashamed of thestep he had taken, and which bore no fruit, for he dared not continue hisquestionsaboutMadamedelaChanterieandherinmates.

IV.FAREWELLTOTHELIFEOFTHEWORLD

Twodayslater,ofaMondayevening,havingdinedforthelasttimeattheCafe Anglais, and seen the two first pieces at the Varietes, he went, at teno’clock, to sleep for the first time in the rue Chanoinesse, where Manonconductedhimtohisroom.

Solitude has charms comparable only to those of savage life, which noEuropeanhasever reallyabandonedafteronce tasting them.Thismayseemstrangeatanepochwheneveryonelivessomuchtobeseenofothersthatalltheworldconcernthemselvesintheirneighbors’affairs,andwhenprivatelifewill soonbea thingof thepast, soboldandso intrusiveare theeyesof thepress,—that modern Argus. Nevertheless, it is a truth which rests on theauthority of the first six Christian centuries, during which no recluse everreturnedtosociallife.Fewarethemoralwoundsthatsolitudewillnotheal.

So,atfirst,Godefroidwassoothedbythedeeppeaceandabsolutestillnessofhisnewabode,asawearytravellerisrelaxedbyabath.

TheverydayafterhisarrivalatMadamedelaChanterie’shewasforcedtoexaminehimself, under the sense that hewas separated fromall, even fromParis,thoughhestilllivedintheshadowofitscathedral.Strippedofhissocialvanities, he was about to have no other witnesses of his acts than his ownconscienceandtheinmatesofthathouse.Hehadquittedthegreathigh-roadoftheworldtoenteranunknownpath.Wherewasthatpathtoleadhimto?towhatoccupationshouldhenowbedrawn?

HehadbeenfortwohoursabsorbedinsuchreflectionswhenManon,theonly servant of the house, knocked at his door to tell him that the secondbreakfastwasservedandthefamilywerewaitingforhim.Twelveo’clockwasstriking.Thenewlodgerwentdownatonce,stirredbyawishtoseeandjudgethefivepersonsamongwhomhislifewasinfuturetobespent.

Whenheenteredtheroomhefoundalltheinmatesofthehousestanding;theyweredressedpreciselyastheywereonthedaywhenhecametomakehisfirstinquiries.

“Didyousleepwell?”askedMadamedelaChanterie.

“SowellthatIdidnotwakeuptillteno’clock,”repliedGodefroid,bowingtothefourmen,whoreturnedthebowwithgravity.

“Wethoughtso,”saidanoldmannamedAlain,smiling.

“Manon spoke of a second breakfast,” saidGodefroid; “but I fear that I

havealreadybrokensomerule.Atwhathourdoyourise?”

“Not quite so early as the old monks,” said Madame de la Chanterie,courteously,“butasearlyastheworking-men,—sixinwinter,half-pastthreeinsummer.Ourbed-timeisruledbythatofthesun.Wearealwaysasleepbynineinwinterandeleveninsummer.Onrising,wealltakealittlemilk,whichcomesfromourfarm,aftersayingourprayers,excepttheAbbedeVeze,whosays thefirstmass,atsixo’clock insummerandseveno’clock inwinter,atNotre-Dame,wherethesegentlemenarepresentdaily,aswellasyourhumbleservant.”

Madame de la Chanterie ended her explanation as the five lodgers tooktheirseatsattable.

Thedining-room,paintedthroughoutingray,thedesignofthewoodworkbeing in the style ofLouisXIV., adjoined the sort of antechamber inwhichManonwasusuallystationed,anditseemedtobeparallelwithMadamedelaChanterie’s bedroom, which also opened into the salon. This room had nootherornamentthanatallclock.Thefurnitureconsistedofsixchairswithovalbacks covered with worsted-work, done probably by Madame de laChanterie’s own hand, two buffets and a table, all of mahogany, on whichManondidnotlayaclothforbreakfast.Thebreakfast,ofmonasticfrugality,wascomposedofasmallturbotwithawhitesauce,potatoes,asalad,andfourdishes of fruit,—peaches, grapes, strawberries, and fresh almonds; also, forrelishes,honeyinthecomb(asinSwitzerland),radishes,cucumbers,sardines,andbutter,—thewholeservedinthewell-knownchinawithtinyblueflowersandgreenleavesonawhiteground,whichwasnodoubtaluxuryinthedaysofLouisXIV.,buthadnow,underthegrowingdemandsofluxury,cometoberegardedascommon.

“We keep the fasts,” said Monsieur Alain. “As we go to mass everymorning,youwillnotbesurprisedtofindusblindlyfollowingallthecustomsoftheChurch,eventheseverest.”

“Andyoushallbeginbyimitatingus,”saidMadamedelaChanterie,withaglanceatGodefroid,whomshehadplacedbesideher.

OfthefivepersonspresentGodefroidknewthenamesofthree,—MadamedelaChanterie, theAbbedeVeze,andMonsieurAlain.Hewished toknowthose of the other two; but they kept silence and ate their food with theattentionwhichreclusesappeartogivetoeverydetailofameal.

“Does this fine fruit come also from your farm, madame?” askedGodefroid.

“Yes, monsieur,” she replied. “We have a little model farm, like thegovernmentitself;wecall itourcountryhouse; it is twelvemilesfromhere,

ontheroadtoItaly,nearVilleneuve-Saint-Georges.”

“Itisapropertythatbelongstousall,andistogotothesurvivor,”saidthegoodmanAlain.

“Oh, it is not very considerable!” addedMadamede laChanterie, ratherhastily,asifshefearedthatGodefroidmightthinktheseremarksabait.

“Therearethirtyacresoftilledland,”saidoneofthetwopersonagesstillunknown to Godefroid, “six of meadow, and an enclosure containing fouracres,inwhichourhouse,whichadjoinsthefarmhouse,stands.”

“Butsuchapropertyas that,”saidGodefroid,“mustbeworthahundredthousandfrancs.”

“Oh,we don’t get anything out of it but our provisions!” said the samepersonage.

Hewasatall,grave,spareman,withalltheappearanceofhavingservedinthearmy.Hiswhitehair showedhim tobepast sixty, andhis facebetrayedsomeviolentgriefcontrolledbyreligion.

The second unnamed person, who seemed to be something between amaster of rhetoric and a business agent,was of ordinary height, plump, butactivewithal.HisfacehadthejovialexpressionwhichcharacterizesthoseoflawyersandnotariesinParis.

The dress of these four personages revealed a neatness due to themostscrupulouspersonalcare.Thesamehand,anditwasthatofManon,couldbeseen in every detail. Their coatswere perhaps ten years old, but theywerepreserved,likethecoatsofvicars,bytheoccultpoweroftheservant-woman,andtheconstantcarewithwhichtheywereworn.Thesemenseemedtowearon their backs the livery of a system of life; they belonged to one thought,their looks said the same word, their faces breathed a gentle resignation, aprovokingquietude.

“Isitanindiscretion,madame,”saidGodefroid,“toaskthenamesofthesegentlemen? I am ready to explainmy life; can I knowasmuchof theirs ascustomwillallow?”

“Thatgentleman,”saidMadamedelaChanterie,motioningtothetall,thinman, “isMonsieurNicolas; he is a colonel of gendarmerie, retiredwith therankofbrigadier-general.Andthis,”sheadded,lookingtowardsthestoutlittleman,“isaformercouncilloroftheroyalcourtsofParis,whoretiredfromthemagistracyin1830.HisnameisMonsieurJoseph.Thoughyouhaveonlybeenwithusoneday,IwilltellyouthatintheworldMonsieurNicolasonceborethenameoftheMarquisdeMontauran,andMonsieurJosephthatofLecamus,BarondeTresnes;but forus, as for theworld, thosenamesno longerexist.

Thesegentlemenarewithoutheirs;theyonlyadvancebyalittletheoblivionwhich awaits their names; they are simplyMonsieur Nicolas andMonsieurJoseph,asyouwillbeMonsieurGodefroid.”

Asheheardthosenames,—onesocelebratedintheannalsofroyalismbythecatastrophewhichputanendtotheuprisingoftheChouans;theothersorevered in the halls of the old parliament of Paris,—Godefroid could notrepressaquiver.Helookedattheserelicsofthegrandestthingsofthefallenmonarchy,—thenoblesseandthelaw,—andhecouldseenomovementofthefeatures,nochangeinthecountenance,thatrevealedthepresenceofaworldlythought.Thosemenno longer remembered, or didnot choose to remember,whattheyhadbeen.ThiswasGodefroid’sfirstlesson.

“Each of your names, gentlemen, is a whole history in itself,” he saidrespectfully.

“Yes,thehistoryofmytime,—ruins,”repliedMonsieurJoseph.

“Youareingoodcompany,”saidMonsieurAlain.

Thelattercanbedescribedinaword:hewasthesmallbourgeoisofParis,theworthymiddle-classbeingwithakindlyface,relievedbypurewhitehair,butmadeinsipidbyaneternalsmile.

Asforthepriest,theAbbedeVeze,hispresencesaidall.Thepriestwhofulfilshismissionisknownbythefirstglancehegivesyou,andbytheglancethatotherswhoknowhimgivetohim.

That which struck Godefroid most forcibly at first was the profoundrespectwhichthefourlodgersmanifestedforMadamedelaChanterie.Theyallseemed,eventhepriest,inspiteofthesacredcharacterhisfunctionsgavehim, to regard her as a queen. Godefroid also noticed their sobriety. Eachseemedtoeatonlyfornourishment.MadamedelaChanterietook,asdidtherest,asinglepeachandhalfabunchofgrapes;butshetoldhernewlodger,assheofferedhimthevariousdishes,nottoimitatesuchtemperance.

Godefroid’s curiosity was excited to the highest degree by this firstentranceonhisnewlife.When theyreturned to thesalonafterbreakfast,hewasleftalone;MadamedelaChanterieretiredtotheembrasureofawindowandheldalittleprivatecouncilwithherfourfriends.Thisconference,entirelydevoidofanimation,lastedhalfanhour.Theyspoketogetherinalowvoice,exchangingwordswhicheachof themappeared tohave thoughtover.Fromtime to time Monsieur Alain and Monsieur Joseph consulted a note-book,turningoveritsleaves.

“Seethefaubourg,”saidMadamedelaChanterietoMonsieurJoseph,wholeftthehouse.

ThatwastheonlywordGodefroiddistinguished.

“AndyoutheSaint-Marceauquarter,”shecontinued,addressingMonsieurNicolas. “Hunt through the faubourgSaint-Germain and see if you can findwhatwewant;”thistotheAbbedeVeze,whowentawayimmediately.“Andyou,mydearAlain,”sheadded,smilingatthelatter,“makeanexamination.There, those important matters are all settled,” she said, returning toGodefroid.

Sheseatedherselfinherarmchair,tookalittlepieceoflinenfromthetablebeforeher,andbegantosewasifshewereemployedtodoso.

Godefroid, lost in conjecture, and still thinking of a royalist conspiracy,took his landlady’s remark as an opening, and he began to study her as heseatedhimselfbesideher.Hewasstruckbythesingulardexteritywithwhichshe worked. Although everything about her bespoke the great lady, sheshowedthedexterityofaworkwoman;foreveryonecanseeataglance,bycertainmanipulations,theworkofaworkmanoranamateur.

“Youdothat,”saidGodefroid,“asifyouknewthetrade.”

“Alas!”sheanswered,withoutraisingherhead,“Ididknowitonceoutofnecessity.”

Twolargetearscameintohereyes,androlleddownhercheekstothelineninherhand.

“Forgiveme,madame!”criedGodefroid.

Madame de Chanterie looked at her new lodger, and saw such anexpressionofgenuineregretuponhisface,thatshemadehimafriendlysign.After drying her eyes, she immediately recovered the calmness thatcharacterizedherface,whichwaslesscoldthanchastened.

“Youarehere,MonsieurGodefroid,—foryouknowalreadythatweshallcallyoubyyourbaptizedname,—youarehereinthemidstofruinscausedbya great tempest.We have each been struck andwounded in our hearts, ourfamily interests, or our fortunes, by that whirlwind of forty years, whichoverthrewreligionandroyalty,anddispersedtheelementsofallthatmadeoldFrance.Wordsthatseemquiteharmlessdosometimeswoundusall,andthatiswhywearesosilent.Wespeakrarelyofourselves;weforgetourselves,andwehavefoundawaytosubstituteanotherlifeforourlives.Itisbecause,afterhearingyour confidence atMonsieurMongenod’s, I thought there seemed alikeness between your situation and ours, that I inducedmy four friends toreceiveyouamongus;besides,wewantedanothermonkinourconvent.Butwhat are you going to do? No one can face solitude without some moralresources.”

“Madame,Ishouldbeveryglad,afterhearingwhatyouhavesaid,ifyouyourselfwouldbetheguideofmydestiny.”

“You speak like a man of the world,” she answered, “and are trying toflatterme,—awomanofsixty!Mydearchild,”shewenton,“letmetellyouthatyouarehereamongpersonswhobelievestrongly inGod;whohaveallfelthishand,andhaveyieldedthemselvestohimalmostasthoughtheywereTrappists.Haveyoueverremarkedtheprofoundsenseofsafetyinatruepriestwhen he has given himself to the Lord, when he listens to his voice, andstrivestomakehimselfadocileinstrumentinthehandofProvidence?Hehasno longervanityorself-love,—nothingofall thatwhichwoundscontinuallythe hearts of the world. His quietude is equal to that of the fatalist; hisresignationdoestrulyenablehimtobearall.Thetruepriest,suchaoneastheAbbe de Veze, lives like a child with its mother; for the Church, my dearMonsieurGodefroid,isagoodmother.Well,amancanbeapriestwithoutthetonsure; all priests are not in orders. To vow one’s self to good, that isimitatingatruepriest;itisobediencetoGod.Iamnotpreachingtoyou;Iamnottryingtoconvertyou;Iamexplainingourlivestoyou.”

“Instructme,madame,”saidGodefroid,deeplyimpressed,“sothatImaynotfailinanyofyourrules.”

“That would be hard upon you; you will learn them by degrees. Neverspeakhereofyourmisfortunes; theyareslightcompared to thecatastrophesbywhichthelivesofthoseyouarenowamongwereblasted.”

Whilespeakingthus,MadamedelaChanteriedrewherneedleandsetherstitcheswith unbroken regularity; but here she paused, raised her head, andlooked atGodefroid. She sawhim charmed by the penetrating sweetness ofhervoice,whichpossessed, letussay ithere,anapostolicunction.Thesicksoul contemplated with admiration the truly extraordinary phenomenonpresentedby thiswoman,whose facewasnow resplendent.Rosy tintswerespreadingon thewaxencheeks,hereyesshone, theyouthfulnessofhersoulchanged the light wrinkles into gracious lines, and all about her solicitedaffection.Godefroidinthatonemomentmeasuredthegulfthatseparatedthiswomanfromcommonsentiments.Hesawherinaccessibleonapeaktowhichreligionhadledher;andhewasstilltooworldlynottobekeenlypiqued,andtolongtoplungethroughthegulfanduptothesummitonwhichshestood,andstandbesideher.Givinghimselfuptothisdesire,herelatedtoherallthemistakesofhislife,andmuchthathecouldnottellatMongenod’s,wherehisconfidenceshadbeenconfinedtohisactualsituation.

“Poorchild!”

That exclamation, falling now and then fromMadame de la Chanterie’slipsashewenton,droppedlikebalmupontheheartofthesufferer.

“What can I substitute for so many hopes betrayed, so much affectionwasted?”heasked,lookingathishostess,whohadnowgrownthoughtful.“Icamehere,”heresumed,“toreflectandchooseacourseofaction.Ihavelostmymother;willyoureplaceher?”

“Willyou,”shesaid,“showason’sobedience?”

“Yes,ifyouwillhavethetendernessthatcommandsit.”

“Iwilltry,”shesaid.

Godefroidputouthishandtotakethatofhishostess,whogaveittohim,guessing his intentions.He carried it respectfully to his lips.Madame de laChanterie’shandwasexquisitelybeautiful,—withoutawrinkle;neitherfatnorthin;whiteenoughtobetheenvyofallyoungwomen,andshapelyenoughforthemodelofasculptor.Godefroidhadalreadyadmiredthosehands,consciousof their harmony with the spell of her voice, and the celestial blue of herglance.

“Waitamoment,”saidMadamedelaChanterie,risingandgoingintoherownroom.

Godefroidwaskeenlyexcited;hedidnotknowtowhatclassofideashermovement was to be attributed. His perplexity did not last long, for shepresentlyreturnedwithabookinherhand.

“Here,mydearchild,”shesaid,“aretheprescriptionsofagreatphysicianofsouls.Whenthethingsofordinarylifehavenotgivenusthehappinessweexpectedofthem,wemustseekforhappinessinahigherlife.Hereisthekeyofanewworld.Readnightandmorningachapterofthisbook;butbringyourfull attention to bear uponwhat you read; study thewords as youwould aforeign language.At theendofamonthyouwillbeanotherman. It isnowtwenty years that I have read a chapter every day; and my three friends,MessieursNicolas,Alain,andJoseph,wouldnomorefailinthatpracticethantheywouldfailingettingupandgoingtobed.DoastheydoforloveofGod,forloveofme,”shesaid,withadivineserenity,anaugustconfidence.

Godefroid turned over the book and read upon its back in gilt letters,IMITATION OF JESUS CHRIST. The simplicity of this old woman, heryouthfulcandor,hercertaintyofdoingagooddeed,confoundedtheex-dandy.MadamedelaChanterie’sfaceworearapturousexpression,andherattitudewas that of a woman who was offering a hundred thousand francs to amerchantonthevergeofbankruptcy.

“Ihaveused thatvolume,” she said, “for twenty-sixyears.Godgrant itstouchmaybe contagious.Gonowandbuyme another copy; for this is thehourwhenpersonscomeherewhomustnotbeseen.”

Godefroidbowedandwenttohisroom,whereheflungthebookuponthetable,exclaiming,—

“Poor,goodwoman!Well,sobeit!”

V.THEINFLUENCEOFBOOKS

The book, like all books frequently read, opened in a particular place.Godefroid sat down as if to put his ideas in order, for he had gone throughmoreemotionduringthisonemorningthanhehadoftendoneintheagitatedmonthsofhislife;butaboveall,hiscuriositywaskeenlyexcited.Lettinghiseyes fall by chance, as people will when their souls are launched inmeditation, they rested mechanically on the two open pages of the book;almostunconsciouslyhereadthefollowingheading:—

CHAPTERXII.

THEROYALWAYOFTHEHOLYCROSS

Hetookupthebook;asentenceofthatnoblechaptercaughthiseyelikeaflashoflight:—

“Hehaswalkedbeforethee,bearinghiscross;hediedforthee,thatthoumightestbearthycross,andbegladtodieuponit.

“Gowherethouwilt,seekwhatthouwilt,nevercanstthoufindanobler,surerpaththantheroyalwayoftheholycross.

“Dispose and order all things according to thy desires and thine ownjudgmentandstillthoushaltfindtrialstosuffer,whetherthouwiltorno;andsothecrossisthere;beitpainofbodyorpainofmind.

“SometimesGodwillseemtoleavethee,sometimesmenwillharassthee.But, farworse, thouwilt find thyselfaburdento thyself,andnoremedywilldeliver thee, no consolation comfort thee: until it pleases God to end thytrouble thou must bear it; for it is God’s will that we suffer withoutconsolation, that we may go to him without one backward look, humblethroughtribulation.”

“Whatastrangebook!”thoughtGodefroid,turningovertheleaves.Thenhiseyeslightedonthefollowingwords:—

“Whenthouhastreachedtheheightof findingallafflictionssweet,sincetheyhavemadetheelovetheloveofJesusChrist,thenknowthyselfhappy;forthouhastfoundthyparadiseinthisworld.”

Annoyedbythissimplicity(thecharacteristicofstrength),angryatbeingfoiledbyabook,heclosedthevolume;buteventhenhesaw,inlettersofgoldonthegreenmoroccocover,thewords:—

SEEKTHATWHICHISETERNAL,ANDTHATONLY.

“Havetheyfoundithere?”heaskedhimself.

Hewentouttobuythehandsomestcopyhecouldfindofthe“ImitationofJesusChrist” thinking thatMadamede laChanteriewouldwish to read herchapter that night.When he reached the street he stood amoment near thedoor,uncertainwhichwaytotakeanddebatinginwhatdirectionhewaslikelytofindabookseller.Ashestoodthereheheardtheheavysoundofthemassiveporte-cochereclosing.

Twomenwere leaving the hotel de la Chanterie. If the reader has fullyunderstoodthecharacterofthisoldhousehewillknowthatitwasoneoftheancient mansions of the olden time. Manon, herself, when she calledGodefroidthatmorning,hadaskedhim,smiling,howhehadsleptinthehoteldelaChanterie.

Godefroid followed the two men without the slightest intention ofwatching them; they took him for an accidental passer, and spoke in toneswhichenabledhimtoheardistinctlyinthoselonelystreets.

ThetwomenpassedalongtherueMassillonbesidethechurchandcrossedtheopenspaceinfrontofit.

“Well, you see, oldman, it is easy enough to catch their sous.Saywhattheywantyoutosay,that’sall.”

“Butweowemoney.”

“Towhom?”

“Tothatlady—”

“I’dliketoseethatoldbodytrytogetit;I’d—”

“You’dpayher.”

“Well,you’reright,forifIpaidherI’dgetmoreanothertime.”

“Wouldn’titbebettertodoastheyadvise,andbuildupagoodbusiness?”

“Pooh!”

“Butshesaidshewouldgetsomeonetolendusthemoney.”

“Thenweshouldhavetogiveupthelifeof—”

“Well,I’drather;I’msickofit;itisn’tbeingamanatalltobedrunkhalf

one’stime.”

“Yes,butyouknowtheabbeturnedhisbackonoldMarintheotherday;herefusedhimeverything.”

“BecauseoldMarin tried toswindle,andnobodycansucceed in thatbutmillionnaires.”

Just then the two men, whose dress seemed to show that they wereforemeninsomeworkshop,turnedabruptlyroundtowardstheplaceMaubertby the bridge of the Hotel-Dieu. Godefroid stepped aside to let them pass.Seeinghimsoclosebehind themtheylookedratheranxiouslyateachother,andtheirfacesexpressedaregretforhavingspoken.

Godefroid was the more interested by this conversation because itremindedhimof the scenebetween theAbbedeVezeand theworkman thedayofhisfirstvisit.

Thinkingoverthiscircumstance,hewentasfarasabookseller’sintherueSaint-Jacques,whence he returnedwith a very handsome copy of the finesteditionpublishedinFranceofthe“ImitationofJesusChrist.”Walkingslowlyback, inorderthathemightarriveexactlyat thedinnerhour,herecalledhisownsensationsduringthismorningandhewasconsciousofanewimpulseinhissoul.Hewasseizedbyasuddenanddeepcuriosity,buthiscuriositypaledbeforean inexplicabledesire.Hewasdrawn toMadamede laChanterie;hefelt the keenest desire to attach himself to her, to devote himself to her, topleaseher,todeserveherpraise:inshort,hefeltthefirstemotionsofplatoniclove; he sawglimpsesof theuntoldgrandeur of that soul, andhe longed toknowitinitsentirety.HegrewimpatienttoentertheinnerlivesofthesepureCatholics. In that small company of faithful souls, the majesty of practicalreligionwassothoroughlyblendedwithallthatismostmajesticinaFrenchwoman thatGodefroid resolved to leaveno stoneunturned tomakehimselfacceptedasatruememberofthelittlebody.Thesefeelingswouldhavebeenunnaturally sudden in a busy Parisian eagerly occupied with life, butGodefroid was, as we have seen, in the position of a drowning man whocatchesateveryfloatingbranchthinkingitasolidstay,andhissoul,ploughedandfurrowedwithtrial,wasreadytoreceiveallseed.

He found the four friends in the salon, and he presented the book toMadamedelaChanterie,saying:

“Ididnotliketodepriveyouofitto-night.”

“Godgrant,” shesaid, smiling,as she lookedat themagnificentvolume,“thatthismaybeyourlastexcessofelegance.”

Lookingattheclothesofthefourmenpresentandobservinghowinevery

particulartheywerereducedtomereutilityandneatness,andseeing,too,howrigorously the same principle was applied to all the details of the house,Godefroidunderstoodthevalueofthereproachsocourteouslymadetohim.

“Madame,” he said, “the persons whom you obliged this morning arescoundrels; I overheard, without intending it, what they said to each otherwhentheyleftthehouse;itwasfullofthebasestingratitude.”

“TheywerethetwolocksmithsoftherueMouffetard,”saidMadamedelaChanterietoMonsieurNicolas;“thatisyouraffair.”

“The fish gets awaymore than once before it is caught,” saidMonsieurAlain,laughing.

The perfect indifference of Madame de la Chanterie on hearing of theimmediate ingratitude of persons towhom she had, no doubt, givenmoney,surprisedGodefroid,whobecamethoughtful.

The dinnerwas enlivened byMonsieurAlain andMonsieur Joseph; butMonsieurNicolas remainedquiet, sad, andcold; heboreonhis features theineffaceableimprintofsomebittergrief,someeternalsorrow.MadamedelaChanteriepaidequalattentionstoall.Godefroidfelthimselfobservedbythesepersons, whose prudence equalled their piety; his vanity led him to imitatetheirreserve,andhemeasuredhiswords.

This first daywasmuchmore interesting than thosewhich succeeded it.Godefroid,whofoundhimselfsetasidefromalltheseriousconferences,wasobliged, during several hours in mornings and evenings when he was leftwhollytohimself,tohaverecoursetothe“ImitationofJesusChrist;”andheendedbystudyingthatbookasamanstudiesabookwhenhehasbutone,orisaprisoner.Abookisthenlikeawomanwithwhomweliveinsolitude;wemust either hate or adore that woman, and, in likemanner, wemust eitherenterintothesouloftheauthorornotreadtenlinesofhisbook.

Now, it is impossible not to be impressed by the “Imitation of JesusChrist,”whichistodogmawhatactionistothought.Catholicismvibratesinit, pulses,breathes, and lives,body tobody,withhuman life.Thebook is asure friend. It speaks to all passions, all difficulties, even worldly ones; itsolvesallproblems;itismoreeloquentthananypreacher,foritsvoiceisyourown,itisthevoicewithinyoursoul,youhearitwithyourspirit.Itis,inshort,theGospeltranslated,adaptedtoallages,thesummitandcrestofallhumansituations. It is extraordinary that the Church has never canonized JohnGersen,fortheDivineSpiritevidentlyinspiredhispen.

ForGodefroid, thehotelde laChanterienowheldawomanandabook;daybydayhelovedthewomanmore;hediscoveredflowersburiedbeneaththe snows of winter in her heart; he had glimpses of the joys of a sacred

friendship which religion permits, on which the angels smile; a friendshipwhichhereunitedthesefivepersonsandagainstwhichnoevilcouldprevail.

Thisisasentimenthigherthanallothers;aloveofsoultosoul,resemblingthoserarestflowersbornonthehighestpeaksofearth;aloveofwhichafewexamples are offered to humanity from age to age, by which lovers aresometimes bound together in one being, and which explains those faithfulattachmentswhichareotherwiseinexplicablebythelawsoftheworld.Itisabond without disappointment, without misunderstanding, without vanity,without strife, without even contradictions; so completely are the moralnaturesblendedintoone.

Thissentiment,vast, infinite,bornofCatholiccharity,Godefroidforesawwithall its joys.At timeshecouldnotbelievethespectaclebeforehiseyes,and he sought for reasons to explain the sublime friendship of these fivepersons,wondering inhisheart to find trueCatholics, trueChristiansof theearlyChurch,intheParisof1836.

VI.THEBUSINESSOFTHEHOUSEOFCHANTERIEANDCOMPANY

Within aweek after his arrivalGodefroid had seen such a concourse ofpersons, he had overheard fragments of conversation relating to so manyserious topics, thathebegantoperceiveanenormousactivity in the livesofthe five inmatesof thehouse.Henoticed thatnoneof themsleptmore thanfivehoursatthemost.

Theyhadallmade, insomesort,a firstday,before thesecondbreakfast.Duringthattimestrangerscameandwent,bringingorcarryingawaymoney,sometimesinconsiderablesums.AmessengerfromtheMongenodcounting-roomoftencame,—alwaysveryearlyinthemorning,sothathiserrandmightnotinterferewiththebusinessofthebank.

One eveningMonsieurMongenod came himself, and Godefroid noticedthat he showed to Monsieur Alain a certain filial familiarity added to theprofoundrespectwhichhetestifiedtothethreeotherlodgersofMadamedelaChanterie.

On that evening the bankermerely put a fewmatter-of-fact questions toGodefroid:“Washecomfortable?Didhe intend to stay?”etc.,—at the sametimeadvisinghimtopersevereinhisplan.

“Ineedonlyonethingtomakemecontented,”saidGodefroid.

“Whatisthat?”askedthebanker.

“Anoccupation.”

“An occupation!” remarked theAbbe deVeze. “Then you have changedyourmind?Ithoughtyoucametoourcloisterforrest.”

“Rest, without the prayers that enlivened monasteries, without themeditationwhich peopled the Thebaids, becomes a disease,” saidMonsieurJoseph,sententiously.

“Learnbook-keeping,”saidMonsieurMongenod,withasmile;“youmightbecomeinafewmonthsveryusefultomyfriendshere.”

“Oh!withpleasure,”criedGodefroid.

ThenextdaywasSunday;MadamedelaChanterierequestedhimtogiveherhisarmtohighmass.

“It is,” she said, “the only coercion I shall put upon you. Several timesduringthepastweekIhavewishedtospeaktoyouofreligion,butitdidnotseem tome that the timehadcome.Youwould findplentyofoccupation ifyousharedourbeliefs,forthenyouwouldshareourlaborsaswell.”

DuringmassGodefroid noticed the fervor ofMessieursNicolas, Joseph,andAlain;andasduringthelastfewdayshehadalsonoticedtheirsuperiorityandintelligence,andthevastextentoftheirknowledge;heconcluded,whenhe sawhow theyhumbled themselves, that theCatholic religionhad secretswhichhadhithertoescapedhim.

“Afterall,”hesaidtohimself,“itisthereligionofBossuet,Pascal,Racine,Saint-Louis, Louis XIV., Raffaelle, Michel-Angelo, Ximenes, Bayard, duGuesclin; and how could I, weakling that I am, compare myself to thoseintellects,thosestatesmen,thosepoets,thoseheroes?”

If therewerenotsomereal instruction in theseminordetails itwouldbeimprudenttodwellupontheminthesedays;buttheyareindispensabletotheinterestsofthishistory,inwhichthepresentpublicwillbenonetooreadytobelieve, and which presents at the outset a fact that is almost ridiculous,—namely, the empire which a woman of sixty obtained over a young mandisappointedwiththeworld.

“You did not pray at all,” saidMadame de laChanterie toGodefroid astheylefttheportalofNotre-Dame;“notforanyone,—notevenforthesoulofyourmother.”

Godefroidcoloredandsaidnothing.

“Willyoudomethefavor,”continuedMadamedelaChanterie,“togotoyourroomandnotcomeintothesalonforanhour?Youcanmeditate,ifyou

love me, on the first chapter in the third book of the ‘Imitation’—the oneentitled:‘Ofinwardcommuning.’”

Godefroidbowedstifflyandwenttohisroom.

“Thedeviltakethem!”heexclaimedtohimself,givingwaytodownrightanger. “What do they want with me here?What is all this traffic they arecarryingon?Pooh!allwomen,evenpiousones,areuptothesametricks.IfMadame”(givingherthenamebywhichherlodgersspokeofher)“wantsmeoutofthewayitisprobablybecausetheyareplottingsomethingagainstme.”

Withthatthoughtinhismindhetriedtolookfromhiswindowintothatofthesalon;but thesituationof theroomsdidnotallowit.Hewentdownoneflight,and thenreturned,—reflecting thataccording to therigidprinciplesofthehouseheshouldbedismissedifdiscoveredspying.Tolosetherespectofthosefivepersonsseemedtohimasseriousaspublicdishonor.

Hewaitedthreequartersofanhour;thenheresolvedtosurpriseMadamede la Chanterie and come upon her suddenly before she expected him. Heinventedalietoexcusehimself,sayingthathiswatchwaswrong;forwhichpurpose he set it on twenty minutes. Then he went downstairs, making nonoise,reachedthedoorofthesalon,andopeneditabruptly.

He sawaman, still young, but already celebrated, a poet,whomhehadfrequentlymetinsociety,VictordeVernisset,onhiskneesbeforeMadamedela Chanterie and kissing the hem of her dress. If the sky had fallen, andshivered toatoms likeglass,as theancients thought itwas,Godefroidcouldnot have beenmore astonished. Shocking thoughts came into hismind, andthen a reactionmore terrible stillwhen, before the sarcasmhewas about toutterhadlefthislips,hesawMonsieurAlaininacorneroftheroomcountingoutbank-notes.

In an instant Vernisset was on his feet, and the worthy Alain lookedthunderstruck.Madame de laChanterie, on her part, gaveGodefroid a lookwhichpetrifiedhim;forthetwofoldexpressiononthefaceofthevisitorhadnotescapedhim.

“Monsieur isoneofus,”shesaid to theyoungpoet,withasign towardsGodefroid.

“Then you are a happy man, my dear fellow,” said Vernisset; “you aresaved!But,madame,” he added, turning toMadamede laChanterie, “if allParishadseenme,Ishouldrejoiceinit.Nothingcanevermarkmygratitudetoyou.Iamyoursforever;Ibelongtoyouutterly.CommandmeasyouwillandIobey.Ioweyoumylife,anditisyours.”

“Well,well,youngman!”saidthekindAlain,“thenbewise,bevirtuous,

—only,work;butdonotattackreligion inyourbooks.Moreover, rememberthatyouoweadebt.”

Andhehandedhimanenvelopethickwiththebank-noteshehadcountedout. The tears were in Victor de Vernisset’s eyes; he kissedMadame de laChanterie’s hand respectfully, and went away, after shaking hands withMonsieurAlainandGodefroid.

“Youhavenotobeyedmadame,”saidthegoodmanAlainsolemnly,withasadexpressiononhis face thatGodefroidhadneverbefore seen there; “andthatisagreatwrong;ifithappensagainwemustpart.Thismayseemhardtoyouafterwehadbeguntogiveyouourconfidence.”

“MydearAlain,”saidMadamedelaChanterie,“havethekindnessformysaketosaynomoreaboutthispieceofthoughtlessness.Weoughtnottoasktoomuch a new arrival, who has been spared greatmisfortunes and knowsnothingofreligion;andwho,moreover,hasonlyanexcessivecuriosityaboutourvocation,anddoesnotyetbelieveinus.”

“Forgiveme,madame,”saidGodefroid;“Idodesire,fromthistimeforth,to be worthy of you. I will submit to any trial you think necessary beforeinitiating me into the secrets of your work; and if the Abbe de Veze willundertaketoinstructmeIwilllistentohim,soulandmind.”

These wordsmadeMadame de la Chanterie so happy that a faint colorstoleuponhercheeks.ShetookGodefroid’shandandpressedit,thenshesaid,withstrangeemotion,“Itiswell.”

Thatevening,afterdinner,visitorscamein:avicar-generalofthedioceseofParis, twocanons, twoformermayorsofParis,andoneof theladieswhodistributed the charities of Notre-Dame. No cards were played; but theconversationwasgay,withoutbeingvapid.

A visit which surprised Godefroid greatly was that of the Comtesse deCinq-Cygne,oneofthehighestpersonagesinaristocraticsociety,whosesalonwasinaccessibletothebourgeoisieandtoparvenus.Thepresenceofthisgreatlady inMadame de la Chanterie’s salonwas sufficiently surprising; but themanner in which the two women met and treated each other seemed toGodefroid inexplicable; for it showed the closest intimacy and a constantintercoursewhichgaveMadamede laChanterieanaddedvalue inhiseyes.MadamedeCinq-Cygnewasgraciousandaffectionateinmannertothefourfriendsofherfriend,andshowedtheutmostrespecttoMonsieurNicolas.

Wemay seeherehowsocial vanities still governedGodefroid; forup tothis visit of Madame de Cinq-Cygne he was still undecided; but he nowresolvedtogivehimselfup,withorwithoutconviction,towhateverMadamede laChanterieandher friendsmightexactofhim, inorder togetaffiliated

with their order and initiated into their secrets, assuring himself that in thatwayheshouldfindacareer.

The next day hewent to a book-keeperwhomMadame de la Chanterierecommended, and arrangedwith him the hours atwhich they shouldworktogether. His whole timewas now employed. TheAbbe deVeze instructedhim in themornings; hewas twohours adaywith thebook-keeper; andhespent the rest of his time between breakfast and dinner in doing imaginarycommercialaccountswhichhismasterrequiredhimtowriteathome.

Sometimepassedthus,duringwhichGodefroidfeltthecharmofalifeinwhicheachhourhasitsownemployment.Therecurrenceofasettledworkatsettledmoments,regularityofaction,isthesecretofmanyahappylife;anditproves how deeply the founders of religious orders had meditated on thenatureofman.Godefroid,whohadmadeuphismindtolistentotheAbbedeVeze,begantohaveseriousthoughtsofafuturelife,andtofindhowlittleheknewoftherealgravityofreligiousquestions.

Moreover,fromdaytodayMadamedelaChanterie,withwhomhealwaysremainedforanhourafter thesecondbreakfast,allowedhimtodiscoverthetreasuresthatwereinher;heknewthenthathenevercouldhaveimaginedaloving-kindness so broad and so complete. A woman of Madame de laChanterie’sapparentagenolongerhasthepettinessofyoungerwomen.Sheisafriendwhooffersyouallfemininerefinements,whodisplaysthegraces,thechoiceattractionswhichnatureinspiresinawomanforman;shegivesthem,andnolongersellsthem.Suchawomaniseitherdetestableorperfect;forhergiftsareeithernotofthefleshortheyareworthless.MadamedelaChanteriewasperfect.Sheseemednevertohavehadayouth;herglancenevertoldofapast.Godefroid’scuriositywasfarfrombeingappeasedbyacloserandmoreintimateknowledgeofthissublimenature;thediscoveriesofeachsucceedingdayonlyredoubledhisdesiretolearntheanteriorlifeofawomanwhomhenow thought a saint.Had sheever loved?Had shebeenawife,—amother?Nothing about her was characteristic of an old maid; she displayed all thegracesofawell-bornwoman;andanobserverwouldperceive inher robusthealth,intheextraordinaryphenomenaofherphysicalpreservation,adivinelife,andaspeciesofignoranceoftheearthlyexistence.

ExceptthegayandcheerygoodmanAlain,allthesepersonshadsuffered;but Monsieur Nicolas himself seemed to give the palm of martyrdom toMadame de la Chanterie. Nevertheless, the memory of her sorrows was sorestrainedbyreligiousresignation,byhersecretavocations, thatsheseemedtohavebeenalwayshappy.

“Youarethelifeofyourfriends,”Godefroidsaidtoheroneday;“youarethe tie that unites them,—thehouse-mother, as itwere, of somegreatwork;

and,asweareallmortal,Iaskmyselfsometimeswhatyourassociationwouldbecomewithoutyou.”

“That iswhat frightens theothers;butProvidence, towhomweoweournewbook-keeper,”shesaid,smiling,“willprovide.Besides,Iamonthelook-out.”

“Willyournewbook-keepersoonbeallowed toworkatyourbusiness?”askedGodefroid.

“Thatdependsonhimself,”sheanswered,smiling.“Hemustbesincerelyreligious, trulypious,without the least self-interest,notconcernedabout therichesof ourhouse, able to rise above all petty social considerationson thetwowingswhichGodhasgivenus.”

“Whatarethey?”

“Singlenessofmindandpurity,” repliedMadamede laChanterie. “Yourignoranceshowsthatyouhaveneglectedthereadingofourbook.”sheadded,laughingat the innocent trickshehadplayed toknowifGodefroidhadreadthe“ImitationofJesusChrist.”“And,lastly,”shewenton,“fillyoursoulwithSaint Paul’s epistle upon Charity. When that is done,” she added, with asublimelook,“itwillnotbeyouwhobelongtous,weshallbelongtoyou,andyouwillbeable tocountupgreater riches than thesovereignsof thisworldpossess;youwillenjoyasweenjoy;yes,letmetellyou(ifyourememberthe‘Arabian Nights’) that the treasures of Aladdin are nothing to those wepossess.Andsoforthelastyearwehavenotsufficedforouraffairs,andweneeded,asyousee,abook-keeper.”

Whilespeaking,shestudiedGodefroid’sface;he,onhispart,didnotknowhow to take this extraordinaryconfidence.But as the scene in the counting-roomatMongenod’scameoftentohismind,hehoveredbetweendoubtandbelief.

“Ah,youwillbeveryhappy!”shesaid.

Godefroid was so consumed with curiosity that from this moment hedeterminedtobreakthroughthereserveofoneofthefourfriendsandquestionhim.Now,theonetowhomhefeltthemostdrawn,andwhoseemednaturallyto excite the sympathies of all classes, was the kind, gay, simpleMonsieurAlain.Bywhat strangepath couldProvidencehave led a being soguilelessintothismonasterywithoutalock,wherereclusesofbothsexeslivedbeneatharuleinthemidstofParis,inabsolutefreedom,asthoughtheywereguardedbythesternestofsuperiors?Whatdrama,whatevent,hadmadehimleavehisownroadinlife,andtakethispathamongthesorrowsofthegreatcity?

Godefroidresolvedtoask.

VII.MONSIEURALAINTELLSHISSECRETS

One eveningGodefroid determined to pay a visit to his neighbor on thefloorabovehim,with the intentionof satisfyingacuriositymoreexcitedbytheapparentimpossibilityofacatastropheinsuchanexistencethanitwouldhavebeenunder the expectationof discovering some terrible episode in thelifeofacorsair.

Atthewords“Comein!”giveninanswertotworapsstruckdiscreetlyonthedoor,GodefroidturnedthekeywhichwasinthelockandfoundMonsieurAlainsittingbythefirereading,beforehewenttobed,hisaccustomedchapterin the “Imitation of Jesus Christ,” by the light of two wax-candles, eachprotectedbyamoveablegreenshade,suchaswhist-playersuse.

Thegoodmanworetrousersapiedandhisgraycamletdressing-gown.Hisfeetwereatalevelwiththefire,restingonacushiondoneinworsted-work,aswerehisslippers,byMadamedelaChanterie.Thefineheadoftheoldman,withoutothercoveringthanitscrownofwhitehair,almostlikethatofamonk,stood out in clear relief against the brown background of an enormousarmchair.

MonsieurAlaingentlylaidhisbook,whichwasmuchwornatthecorners,onalittletablewithtwistedlegs,andsignedtotheyoungmantotakeanotherchair, removingashedidsoapairofspectacleswhichwerehangingon theendofhisnose.

“Areyouill,thatyouhaveleftyourroomatthishour?”heasked.

“Dear Monsieur Alain,” said Godefroid, frankly, “I am tortured with acuriosity which one word from you will make very harmless or veryindiscreet;andthatexplainsclearlyenoughthespiritinwhichIshallaskmyquestion.”

“Oh! oh! andwhat is your question?” said the good soul, looking at theyoungmanwithaneyethatwashalfmischievous.

“Whatwasitthatbroughtyouheretoleadthelifethatyoulivehere?For,surely, to accept the doctrines of such total renunciation of all personalinterests,amanmusthavebeendisgustedwiththeworld,orelsehaveinjuredothers.”

“Eh!mydearlad,”repliedtheoldman,lettingasmileflickeronhislargelips,whichgavetohisrosymouththekindliestexpressionthatthegeniusofapainter ever imagined, “can we not be moved to the deepest pity by the

spectacle of human wretchedness which Paris holds within her walls? DidSaintVincent dePaul need the spur of remorse orwoundedvanity tomakehimdevotehimselftooutcastchildren?”

“You closemymouth, for if ever a soul resembled that of theChristianhero,itisyours,”saidGodefroid.

Inspiteofthehardnesswhichagehadgiventothewrinkledyellowskinofhis face, the old man blushed, for he seemed to have provoked thatcomparison;thoughanyonewhoknewhismodestywouldhavebeencertainheneverdreamedofit.GodefroidwasawarebythistimethatMadamedelaChanterie’s inmates had no taste for that sort of incense. Nevertheless, theextremesimplicityofthegoodoldsoulwasmoredisturbedbythisideathanayounggirlwouldhavebeenbyanimproperthought.

“Though I amvery far indeed fromSaintVincentdePaulmorally,” saidMonsieurAlain,“IthinkIdoresemblehimphysically.”

Godefroid was about to speak, but was stopped by a gesture of the oldman,whosenose,itmustbeowned,hadthetuberousappearanceofthatoftheSaint, andwhose face, a good deal like that of an old vine-dresser,was anexact duplicate of the broad, common face of the founder of Foundlinghospitals.

“Asforme,youarerightenough,”hewenton;“myvocationforourworkwasbroughtaboutbyrepentance,astheresultofa—folly.”

“Afolly,—you!”Godefroidexclaimedsoftly,thewordentirelyputtingoutofhisheadwhathemeanttosay.

“Ah!dearme,whatIamgoingtotellyouwillseem,Idaresay,atrifletoyou,—amere bit of nonsense; but before the tribunal of conscience it wasanotherthing.IfyoupersistinwishingtoshareourworkafterhearingwhatIshalltellyou,youwillunderstandthatthepowerofasentimentisaccordingtothenatureofsouls,andthatamatterwhichwouldnotintheleasttroubleastrongmindmayverywelltormenttheconscienceofaweakChristian.”

Afteraprefaceofthiskind,thecuriosityofthediscipleofcourseknewnobounds.What could be the crime of the worthy soul whomMadame de laChanteriecalledherpaschallamb?ThethoughtcrossedGodefroid’smindthata book might be written on it, called “The Sins of a Sheep.” Sheep aresometimes quite ferocious towards grass and flowers. One of the tenderestrepublicansof thosedayswasheard to assert that thebest of humanbeingswascrueltosomething.ButthekindlyAlain!—he,wholikemyuncleToby,wouldn’tcrushagnat till ithadstunghimtwentytimes,—thatsweetsoul tohavebeentorturedbyrepentance!

ThisreflectioninGodefroid’smindfilledthepausemadebytheoldmanafter saying, “Now listen tome!”—apausehe filledhimself bypushinghiscushionunderGodefroid’sfeettoshareitwithhim.

“Iwas thenabout thirtyyearsof age,”he said. “Itwas theyear ‘98, if Iremember right,—a period when young men were forced to have theexperience ofmen of sixty.Onemorning, a little beforemy breakfast hour,whichwasnineo’clock,myoldhousekeeperusheredinoneofthefewfriendsremaining to me after the Revolution. My first word was to ask him tobreakfast.Myfriend—hisnamewasMongenod,a fellowabout twenty-eightyearsofage—accepted,buthedidsoinanawkwardmanner.Ihadnotseenhimsince1793!”

“Mongenod!”criedGodefroid;“why,thatis—”

“Ifyouwant toknowtheendbeforethebeginning,howamI totellyoumyhistory?”saidtheoldman,smiling.

Godefroidmadeasignwhichpromisedabsolutesilence.

“WhenMongenod sat down,” continuedMonsieurAlain, “I noticed thathisshoeswerewornout.Hisstockingshadbeenwashedsooftenthatitwasdifficult to say if they were silk or not. His breeches, of apricot-coloredcassimere, were so old that the color had disappeared in spots; and thebuckles,insteadofbeingofsteel,seemedtometobemadeofcommoniron.Hiswhite,floweredwaistcoat,nowyellowfromlongwearing,alsohisshirt,thefrillofwhichwasfrayed,betrayedahorribleyetdecentpoverty.Amereglanceathiscoatwasenoughtoconvincemethatmyfriendhadfallen intodire distress. That coat was nut-brown in color, threadbare at the seams,carefullybrushed,thoughthecollarwasgreasyfrompomadeorpowder,andhad thewhitemetal buttons now copper-colored.Thewholewas so shabbythatI triednottolookatit.Thehat—anoperahatofakindwethencarriedunder the arm, and not on the head—had seen many governments.Nevertheless,mypoorfriendmusthavespentafewsousat thebarber’s,forhewasneatlyshaved;andhishair,gatheredbehindhisheadwithacombandpowderedcarefully,smeltofpomade.Isawtwochainshangingdownonhisbreeches,—two rusty steel chains,—but no appearance of a watch in hispocket.Itellyouallthesedetails,astheycometome,”saidMonsieurAlain;“I seldom think of thismatter now; butwhen I do, all the particulars comevividlybeforeme.”

Hepausedamomentandthenresumed:—

“Itwaswinter, andMongenod evidently hadno cloak; for I noticed thatseverallumpsofsnow,whichmusthavedroppedfromtheroofsashewalkedalong,werestickingtothecollarofhiscoat.Whenhetookoffhisrabbit-skin

gloves, and I saw his right hand, I noticed the signs of labor, and toilsomelabor, too.Nowhis father, the advocate of theGrandCouncil, had left himsomeproperty,—aboutfiveorsixthousandfrancsayear.Isawatoncethathehadcometometoborrowmoney.Ihad,inasecrethiding-place,twohundredlouis d’or,—an enormoushoard at that time; for theywereworth I couldn’tnowtellyouhowmanyhundredthousandfrancsinassignats.MongenodandIhadstudiedatthesamecollage,—thatofGrassins,—andwehadmetagaininthe same law-office,—that ofBordin,—a truly honestman.When you havespentyourboyhoodandplayedyouryouthfulprankswiththesamecomrade,thesympathybetweenyouandhimhassomethingsacredaboutit;hisvoice,his glance, stir certain chords in your heart which only vibrate under thememories that he brings back. Even if you have had cause of complaintagainstsuchacomrade,therightsofthefriendshipbetweenyoucanneverbeeffaced. But there had never been the slightest jar between us two. At thedeathofhis father, in1787,Mongenodwas left richer than I.Though Ihadnever borrowedmoney from him, I owed him pleasures whichmy father’seconomydeniedme.WithoutmygenerouscomradeIshouldneverhadseenthefirstrepresentationofthe‘MarriageofFigaro.’Mongenodwaswhatwascalled in those days a charming cavalier; hewas very gallant. Sometimes Iblamed him for his facile way of making intimacies and his too greatamiability.Hispurseopenedfreely;helivedinafree-handedway;hewouldserveamanassecondhavingonlyseenhimtwice.GoodGod!howyousendmebacktothedaysandthewaysofmyyouth!”saidtheworthyman,withhischeerysmile.

“Areyousorry?”saidGodefroid.

“Oh,no!andyoucanjudgebytheminutenesswithwhichIamtellingyouallthishowgreataplacethiseventhasheldinmylife.

“Mongenod, endowed with an excellent heart and fine courage, a trifleVoltairean,wasinclinedtoplaythenobleman,”wentonMonsieurAlain.“HiseducationatGrassins,wherethereweremanyyoungnobles,andhisvariousgallantries, had given him the polished manners and ways of people ofcondition,whowere then called aristocrats.You can therefore imagine howgreat was my surprise to see such symptoms of poverty in the young andelegant Mongenod of 1787 when my eyes left his face and rested on hisgarments.Butas,atthatunhappyperiodofourhistory,somepersonsassumeda shabby exterior for safety, and as he might have had some other andsufficientreasonsfordisguisinghimself,Iawaitedanexplanation,althoughIopenedthewaytoit. ‘Whataplightyouarein,mydearMongenod!’Isaid,acceptingthepinchofsnuffheofferedmefromacopperandzincsnuff-box.‘Sadindeed!’heanswered;‘Ihavebutonefriendleft,andthatisyou.IhavedoneallIcouldtoavoidappealingtoyou;butImustaskyouforahundred

louis.Thesumis large,Iknow,’hewenton,seeingmysurprise;‘but ifyougave me fifty I should be unable ever to return them; whereas with onehundredIcanseekmyfortuneinbetterways,—despairwillinspiremetofindthem.’‘Thenyouhavenothing?’Iexclaimed.‘Ihave,’hesaid,brushingawayatear,‘fivesousleftofmylastpieceofmoney.TocomeheretoyouIhavehadmybootsblackedandmyfaceshaved.IpossesswhatIhaveonmyback.But,’ he added, with a gesture, ‘I owe my landlady a thousand francs inassignats,andthemanIbuycoldvictualsfromrefusedmecredityesterday.Iamabsolutelywithoutresources.’‘Whatdoyouthinkofdoing?’‘Enlistingasa soldier if you cannot help me.’ ‘You! a soldier, Mongenod?’ ‘I will getmyself killed, or Iwill beGeneralMongenod.’ ‘Well,’ I said,muchmoved,‘eatyourbreakfastinpeace;Ihaveahundredlouis.’

“At that point,” said the goodman, interrupting himself and looking atGodefroidwithashrewdair,“Ithoughtitbesttotellhimabitofafib.”

“‘ThatisallIpossessintheworld,’Isaid.‘IhavebeenwaitingforafallintheFundstoinvestthatmoney;butIwillputitinyourhandsinstead,andyoushall considerme your partner; I will leave to your conscience the duty ofreturningittomeinduetime.Theconscienceofanhonestman,’Isaid,‘isabetter security than the Funds.’Mongenod looked atme fixedly as I spoke,andseemedtobeinlayingmywordsuponhisheart.Heputouthisrighthand,Ilaidmyleftintoit,andweheldthemtogether,—Ideeplymoved,andhewithtwobigtearsrollingdownhischeeks.Thesightofthosetearswrungmyheart.I was more moved still when Mongenod pulled out a ragged foulardhandkerchieftowipethemaway.‘Waithere,’Isaid;andIwenttomysecrethiding-placewithaheartasagitatedasthoughIhadheardawomansayshelovedme.Icamebackwithtworollsoffiftylouiseach.‘Here,countthem.’Hewouldnot count them; andhe looked about him for a deskonwhich towrite, he said, a proper receipt. I positively refused to take any paper. ‘If Ishould die,’ I said, ‘my heirs would trouble you. This is to be betweenourselves.’

“Well,”continuedMonsieurAlain,smiling,“whenMongenodfoundmeagoodfriendheceasedtolookassadandanxiousaswhenheentered;infact,hebecamequitegay.Myhousekeepergaveussomeoysters,whitewine,andanomelet,withbroiledkidneys,andtheremainsofapatemyoldmotherhadsentme; also some dessert, coffee, and liqueur of the Iles.Mongenod,whohadbeenstarvingfortwodays,wasfedup.Weweresointerestedintalkingabout our life before the Revolution that we sat at table till three in theafternoon.Mongenodtoldmehowhehad losthis fortune. In thefirstplace,his father having invested the greater part of his capital in city loans,whentheyfellMongenodlosttwothirdsofallhehad.Then,havingsoldhishouseintheruedeSavoie,hewasforcedtoreceivethepriceinassignats.Afterthat

he took into his head to found a newspaper, ‘La Sentinelle;’ that compelledhimtoflyattheendofsixmonths.Hishopes,hesaid,werenowfixedonthesuccessofacomicoperacalled‘LesPeruviens.’WhenhesaidthatIbegantotremble.Mongenodturnedauthor,wastinghismoneyonanewspaper, livingno doubt in the theatres, connected with singers at the Feydeau, withmusicians,andall thequeerpeoplewholurkbehindthescenes,—totellyouthetruth,hedidn’tseemmyMongenod.Itrembled.ButhowcouldItakebackthe hundred louis? I saw each roll in each pocket of his breeches like thebarrelsoftwopistols.

“Then,” continuedMonsieurAlain, and this time he sighed, “Mongenodwent away.When Iwas alone, and no longer in presence of hard and cruelpoverty, I began, in spite ofmyself, to reflect. I was sobered. ‘Mongenod,’thought I, ‘is perhaps thoroughly depraved; he may have been playing acomedy at my expense.’ His gaiety, themoment I had handed over to himreadilysuchalargesumofmoney,struckmethenasbeingtoolikethejoyofthevaletsonthestagewhentheycatchaGeronte.Iended,whereIoughttohave begun, by resolving to make some investigations as to my friendMongenod,whohadgivenmehisaddress,—writtenonthebackofaplayingcard!Ididnotchoose,asamatterofdelicacy,togoandseehimthenextday;hemighthavethoughttherewasdistrustinsuchpromptness,as,indeed,therewouldhavebeen.TheseconddayIhadcertainmatterstoattendtowhichtookallmytime,anditwasonlyattheendoftwoweeksthat,notseeingorhearingofMongenod, Iwentonemorning from theCroix-Rouge,where Iwas thenliving, to the rue des Moineaux, where he lived. I found he was living infurnished lodgings of the lowest class; but the landladywas a veryworthywoman, the widow of a magistrate who had died on the scaffold; she wasutterlyruinedbytheRevolution,andhadonlyafewlouiswithwhichtobeginthehazardoustradeoftakinglodgers.”

HereMonsieurAlaininterruptedhimselftoexplain.“Iknewherlater,”hesaid;“shethenhadsevenhousesinSaint-Roch,andwasmakingquitealittlefortune.

“‘ThecitizenMongenodisnotathome,’thelandladysaidtome;‘butthereis some one there.’This remark excitedmy curiosity. Iwent up to the fifthstory.Acharmingpersonopenedthedoor,—oh,suchaprettyyoungwoman!who looked at me rather suspiciously and kept the door half closed. ‘I amAlain,afriendofMongenod’s,’Isaid.Instantlythedooropenedwide,andIentered a miserable garret, which was, nevertheless, kept with the utmostneatness.Theprettyyoungwomanofferedmeachairbeforeafireplacewherewereashesbutnofire,at thecornerofwhichIsawacommonearthenfoot-warmer. ‘Itmakesme very happy,monsieur,’ she said, takingmy hand andpressingitaffectionately,‘tobeabletoexpresstoyoumygratitude.Youhave

indeedsavedus.WereitnotforyouImightneverhaveseenMongenodagain.Hemight,—yes,hewouldhavethrownhimselfintheriver.Hewasdesperatewhenheleftmetogoandseeyou.’OnexaminingthispersonIwassurprisedtoseeherheadtiedupinafoulard,andalongthetemplesacuriousdarkline;butIpresentlysawthatherheadwasshaved.‘Haveyoubeenill?’Iasked,asInoticedthissingularity.Shecastaglanceatabrokenmirrorinashabbyframeandcolored;thenthetearscameintohereyes.‘Yes,monsieur,’shesaid,‘Ihadhorribleheadaches,andIwasobligedtohavemyhaircutoff;itcametomyfeet.’ ‘Am I speaking toMadameMongenod?’ I asked. ‘Yes,monsieur,’ sheanswered,givingmea trulycelestial look. Ibowed to thepoor littlewomanandwentaway,intendingtomakethelandladytellmesomethingaboutthem;butshewasout.Iwascertainthatpooryoungwomanhadsoldherhairtobuybread.Iwentfromtheretoawoodmerchantandorderedhalfacordofwood,telling the cartman and the sawyer to take thebill,which Imade thedealerreceipttothenameofcitizenMongenod,andgiveittothelittlewoman.

“There ends the period of what I long called my foolishness,” saidMonsieurAlain,claspinghishandsandliftingthemwithalookofrepentance.

Godefroid could not help smiling. He was, as we shall see, greatlymistakeninthatsmile.

“Twodayslater,”resumedtheworthyman,“Imetoneofthosemenwhoareneither friendsnor strangers,withwhomwehave relations from time totime, and call acquaintances,—a certainMonsieur Barillaud, who remarkedaccidentally,aproposof the ‘Peruviens,’ that theauthorwasa friendofhis.‘ThenyouknowcitizenMongenod?’Isaid.

“In thosedayswewereobligedby law tocalleachother ‘citizen,’” saidMonsieurAlain toGodefroid,bywayofparenthesis.Thenhecontinuedhisnarrative:—

“Thecitizenlookedatme,exclaiming,‘IwishIneverhadknownhim;forhehasseveraltimesborrowedmoneyofme,andshownhisfriendshipbynotreturning it. He is a queer fellow,—good-hearted and all that, but full ofillusions!alwaysanimaginationonfire!Iwilldohimthis justice,—hedoesnotmeantodeceive;butashedeceiveshimselfabouteverything,hemanagestobehavelikeadishonestman.’‘Howmuchdoesheoweyou?’Iasked.‘Oh!agoodmanyhundredfrancs.He’sabasketwithaholeinthebottom.Nobodyknowswherehismoneygoes;perhapshedoesn’tknowhimself.’‘Hasheanyresources?’ ‘Well, yes,’ said Barillaud, laughing; ‘just now he is talking ofbuyinglandamongthesavagesintheUnitedStates.’Icarriedawaywithmethedropofvinegarwhichcasualgossipthusputintomyheart,anditsouredallmyfeelings.Iwenttoseemyoldmaster,inwhoseofficeMongenodandIhadstudiedlaw;hewasnowmycounsel.WhenItoldhimaboutmyloanto

Mongenodand themanner inwhich Ihadacted,—‘What!’hecried, ‘oneofmyold clerks tobehave in thatway!Youought tohaveputhimoff till thenext day and come to seeme. Youwould then have found out that I haveforbiddenmyclerkstoletMongenodintothisoffice.Withinthelastyearhehas borrowed three hundred francs of me in silver,—an enormous sum atpresent rates. Three days before he breakfasted with you I met him on thestreet,andhegavesuchapiteousaccountofhispoverty that I lethimhavetwolouis.’‘IfIhavebeenthedupeofaclevercomedian,’IsaidtoBordin,‘somuchtheworseforhim,notforme.Buttellmewhattodo.’‘Youmusttrytoget fromhimawrittenacknowledgment; foradebtor,however, insolventhemaybe,maybecomesolvent,and thenhewillpay.’ThereuponBordin tookfromatinboxacaseonwhichIsawthenameofMongenod;heshowedmethreereceiptsofahundredfrancseach.‘ThenexttimehecomesIshallhavehimadmitted,andIshallmakehimaddtheinterestandthetwolouis,andgivemeanoteforthewhole.Ishall,atanyrate,havethingsproperlydone,andbeinaposition toobtainpayment.’ ‘Well,’ said I toBordin, ‘canyouhavemymattersetrightsofar,aswellasyours?forIknowyouareagoodman,andwhatyoudowillbe right.’ ‘Ihave remainedmasterofmyground,’hesaid;‘butwhenpersonsbehaveasyouhavedone theyareat themercyofamanwho can snap his fingers at them.As forme, I don’t choose that anymanshould get the better of me,—get the better of a former attorney to theChatelet!—ta-ra-ra!Everymantowhomasumofmoneyislentasheedlesslyas you lent yours toMongenod, ends, after a certain time, by thinking thatmoneyhisown.Itisnolongeryourmoney,it ishismoney;youbecomehiscreditor,—aninconvenient,unpleasantperson.Adebtorwillthentrytogetridofyoubysomejugglingwithhisconscience,andoutofonehundredmeninhisposition,seventy-fivewilldotheirbestnevertoseeorhearofyouagain.’‘Then you think only twenty-fivemen in a hundred are honest?’ ‘Did I saythat?’hereplied,smilingmaliciously.‘Theestimateistoohigh?’”

MonsieurAlainpausedtoputthefiretogether;thatdone,heresumed:—

“Twoweeks later I received a letter fromBordin askingme togo tohisofficeandgetmyreceipt.Iwent.‘Itriedtogetfiftyofyourlouisforyou,’hesaid,‘butthebirdshadflown.Saygood-bytoyouryellowboys;thoseprettycanariesareofftootherclimes.Youhavehadtodowithasharper;that’swhatheis.Hedeclaredtomethathiswifeandfather-in-lawhadgonetotheUnitedStateswithsixtyofyourlouistobuyland;thatheintendedtofollow,forthepurpose, he said, of making a fortune and paying his debts; the amount ofwhich,carefullydrawnup,heconfidedtome,requestingmetokeepaneyeonwhatbecameofhis creditors.Here is a list of the items,’ continuedBordin,showing me a paper from which he read the total,—‘Seventeen thousandfrancsincoin;asumwithwhichahousecouldbeboughtthatwouldbringintwothousandfrancsayear.’Afterreplacing the list in thecase,Bordingave

me a note for a sum equivalent to a hundred louis in gold, with a letter inwhichMongenod admitted having receivedmy hundred louis, onwhich heowedinterest.‘SonowIamallright,’IsaidtoBordin.‘Hecannotdenythedebt,’repliedmyoldmaster;‘butwheretherearenofunds,eventheking—IshouldsaytheDirectory—can’tenforcerights.’Iwenthome.BelievingthatIhadbeenrobbedinawayintentionallyscreenedfromthelaw,IwithdrewmyesteemfromMongenod,andresignedmyselfphilosophically.

“IfIhavedweltonthesedetails,whicharesocommonplaceandseemsoslight,” said theworthyman, looking at Godefroid, “it is not without goodreason. Iwant to explain to you how Iwas led to act, asmostmen act, indefiance of the rules which savages observe in the smallest matters. Manypersons would justify themselves by the opinion of so excellent a man asBordin;butto-dayIknowmyselftohavebeeninexcusable.Whenitcomestocondemning one of our fellows, andwithdrawing our esteem from him,weshouldactfromourownconvictionsonly.Buthaveweanyrighttomakeourheartatribunalbeforewhichwearraignourneighbor?Whereisthelaw?whatisourstandardofjudgment?Thatwhichinusisweaknessmaybestrengthinourneighbor.Somanybeings,somanydifferentcircumstancesforeveryact;andtherearenotwobeingsexactlyalikeinallhumanity.Societyalonehastherightover itsmembersof repression;as forpunishment, Ideny it that right.Repressionsuffices;andthat,besides,bringswithitpunishmentenough.

“So,”resumedMonsieurAlain,continuinghishistory,havingdrawnfromitthatnobleteaching,“afterlisteningtothegossipoftheParisian,andrelyingon the wisdom of my old master, I condemned Mongenod. His play, ‘LesPeruviens,’wasannounced.IexpectedtoreceiveaticketfromMongenodforthefirstrepresentation;Iestablishedinmyownmindasortofclaimonhim.Itseemed tome that by reason ofmy loanmy friendwas a sort of vassal ofmine,whoowedmeanumberofthingsbesidestheinterestonmymoney.Weallthinkthat.Mongenodnotonlydidnotsendmeaticket,butIsawhimfromadistancecomingtowardsmeinthatdarkpassageundertheTheatreFeydeau,well dressed, almost elegant; hepretendednot to seeme; then, after hehadpassed and I turned to run after him, my debtor hastily escaped through atransverse alley. This circumstance greatly irritated me; and the irritation,insteadofsubsidingwith time,only increased,andfor thefollowingreason:Some days after this encounter, I wrote to Mongenod somewhat in theseterms:‘Myfriend,yououghtnottothinkmeindifferenttowhateverhappenstoyouofgoodorevil.Areyousatisfiedwiththesuccessof‘LesPeruviens’?Youforgotme(ofcourseitwasyourrighttodoso)forthefirstrepresentation,atwhichIshouldhaveapplaudedyou.But,nevertheless,IhopeyoufoundaPeruinyourPeruvians,forIhavefoundauseformyfunds,andshalllooktoyou for the payment of them when the note falls due. Your friend, Alain.’Afterwaitingtwoweeksforananswer,IwenttotheruedesMoineaux.The

landladytoldmethatthelittlewifereallydidgoawaywithherfatherat thetimewhenMongenod toldBordin of their departure.Mongenod always leftthe garret very early in the morning and did not return till late at night.Another twoweeks, Iwrote again, thus: ‘MydearMongenod, I cannot findyou,andyoudonotreplytomyletters.Idonotunderstandyourconduct.IfIbehaved thus to you,whatwould you think ofme?’ I did not subscribe theletterasbefore,‘Yourfriend,’Imerelywrote,‘Kindregards.’

“Well,itwasallofnouse,”saidMonsieurAlain.“AmonthwentbyandIhadnonewsofMongenod.‘LesPeruviens’didnotobtainthegreatsuccessonwhichhecounted.Iwenttothetwentiethrepresentation,thinkingtofindhimand obtainmymoney.The housewas less than half full; butMadameSciowasverybeautiful.They toldme in the foyer that theplaywould runa fewnightslonger.IwentsevendifferenttimestoMongenod’slodginganddidnotfindhim;each time I leftmynamewith the landlady.At last Iwroteagain:‘Monsieur,ifyoudonotwishtolosemyrespect,asyouhavemyfriendship,youwilltreatmenowasastranger,—thatistosay,withpoliteness;andyouwilltellmewhenyouwillbereadytopayyournote,whichisnowdue.Ishallact according toyouranswer.Yourobedient servant,Alain.’Noanswer.Wewere then in1799;oneyear,allbut twomonths,hadexpired.At theendofthosetwomonthsIwenttoBordin.Bordintookthenote,haditprotested,andsued Mongenod for me. Meantime the disasters of the French armies hadproducedsuchdepreciationoftheFundsthatinvestorscouldbuyafive-francsdividendon seven francs capital.Therefore, formyhundred louis ingold, Imighthaveboughtmyself fifteenhundredfrancsof income.Everymorning,as I took my coffee and read the paper, I said to myself: ‘That cursedMongenod!ifitwerenotforhimIshouldhavethreethousandfrancsayeartoliveon.’Mongenodbecamemybete-noire;IinveighedagainsthimevenasIwalkedthestreets.‘Bordinisthere,’Ithoughttomyself;‘Bordinwillputthescrewson,andagoodthing,too.’Myfeelingsturnedtohatred,andmyhatredto imprecations; I cursed the man, and I believed he had every vice. ‘Ah!MonsieurBarillaudwasveryright,’thoughtI,‘inallhetoldme!’”

MonsieurAlainpausedreflectively.

“Yes,”hesaidagain,“I thoughthimveryright inallhe toldme.At last,onemorning,incamemydebtor,nomoreembarrassedthanifhedidn’towemeasou.WhenIsawhimIfeltalltheshameheoughttohavefelt.Iwaslikeacriminaltakenintheact;Iwasallupset.TheeighteenthBrumairehadjusttakenplace.Publicaffairsweredoingwell,theFundshadgoneup.Bonapartewas off to fight the battle ofMarengo. ‘It is unfortunate,monsieur,’ I said,receivingMongenodstanding,‘thatIoweyourvisittoasheriff’ssummons.’Mongenodtookachairandsatdown.‘Icametotellyou,’hesaid,‘thatIamtotallyunable topayyou.’ ‘Youmadememiss a fine investmentbefore the

election of the First Consul,—an investmentwhichwould have givenme alittlefortune.’‘Iknowit,Alain,’hesaid,‘Iknowit.Butwhatisthegoodofsuingmeandcrushingmewithbillsofcosts? Ihavenothingwithwhich topayanything.Lately I received letters frommywife and father-in-law; theyhave bought land with the money you lent me, and they sendme a list ofthingstheyneedtoimproveit.Now,unlesssomeonepreventsit,Ishallsailon a Dutch vessel from Flushing, whither I have sent the few things I amtakingout to them.Bonapartehaswon thebattleofMarengo,peacewillbesigned, Imaysafelyrejoinmyfamily;andIhaveneed to, formydear littlewifeisabouttogivebirthtoachild.’‘Andsoyouhavesacrificedmetoyourowninterests?’saidI. ‘Yes,’heanswered,‘forIbelievedyoumyfriend.’AtthatmomentIfeltmyselfinferiortoMongenod,sosublimedidheseemtomeashesaidthosegrandwords.‘DidInotspeaktoyoufrankly,’hesaid,‘inthisvery room? I came to you, Alain, as the only person who would reallyunderstandme.Itoldyouthatfiftylouiswouldbelost,butahundredIcouldreturntoyou.Ididnotbindmyselfbysayingwhen;forhowcouldIknowthetime atwhichmy long strugglewith disasterwould end?Youweremy lastfriend.Allothers,evenouroldmasterBordin,despisedmefortheveryreasonthat I borrowedmoney of them. Oh! you do not know, Alain, the dreadfulsensation which grips the heart of an honest man when, in the throes ofpoverty,hegoestoafriendandaskshimforsuccor,—andallthatfollows!Ihopeyounevermayknow it; it is farworse than theanguishofdeath.Youhavewrittenmeletterswhich,ifIhadwrittenthemtoyouinalikesituation,youwouldhave thoughtveryodious.Youexpectedofme thatwhich itwasout ofmypower to do.But you are the only person towhom I shall try tojustifymyself. Inspiteofyourseverity,and thoughfrombeinga friendyoubecameacreditoronthedaywhenBordinaskedformynoteonyourbehalf(thusabrogating thegenerouscompactyouhadmadewithme there,on thatspot,whenweclaspedhandsandmingledourtears),—well,inspiteofallthat,Ihaverememberedthatday,andbecauseofitIhavecomeheretosaytoyou,Youdonotknowmisery,thereforedonotjudgeit.IhavenothadonemomentwhenIcouldansweryou.Wouldyouhavewishedmetocomehereandcajoleyouwithwords?Icouldnotpayyou;Ididnotevenhaveenoughforthebarenecessities of thosewhose lives depended onme.Myplay brought little.Anovice in theatrical ways, I became a prey tomusicians, actors, journalists,orchestras.Toget themeans to leaveParisand joinmyfamily,andcarry tothem the few things they need, I have sold “Les Peruviens” outright to thedirector,withtwootherpieceswhichIhadinmyportfolio.IstartforHollandwithoutasou;ImustreachFlushingasbestIcan;myvoyageispaid,thatisall.Wereitnotforthepityofmylandlady,whohasconfidenceinme,Ishouldhavetotravelonfoot,withmybaguponmyback.But,inspiteofyourdoubtsofme,I,rememberingthatwithoutyouInevercouldhavesentmywifeand

father-in-lawtoNewYork,amforevergratefultoyou.No,MonsieurAlain,Ishall not forget that the hundred louis d’or you lentmewouldhaveyieldedyouto-dayfifteenhundredfrancsayear.’‘Idesiretobelieveyou,Mongenod,’I said, shaken by the tone inwhich hemade this explanation. ‘Ah, you nolongersaymonsieurtome!’hesaidquickly,withatenderglance.‘MyGod!IshallquitFrancewithlessregretifIcanleaveonemanbehindmeinwhoseeyesIamnothalfaswindler,noraspendthrift,noramanofillusions!Alain,Ihavelovedanangelinthemidstofmymisery.Amanwhotrulylovescannotbedespicable.’AtthosewordsIstretchedoutmyhandtohim.Hetookitandwrung it. ‘Mayheavenprotectyou!’ I said. ‘Arewestill friends?’heasked.‘Yes,’Ireplied.‘Itshallneverbethatmychildhood’scomradeandthefriendofmyyouthleftmeforAmericaunderthefeelingthatIwasangrywithhim.’Mongenodkissedme,withtearsinhiseyes,andrushedaway.”

Monsieur Alain stopped in his narrative for an instant and looked atGodefroid. “I remember that daywith some satisfaction,” he said. Then heresumed:

“AweekorsolaterImetBordinandtoldhimofthatinterview.Hesmiledandsaid:‘Ihopeitwasnotaprettybitofcomedy.Didn’theaskforanything?’‘No,’ I answered. ‘Well, he came to seeme the same day. I was almost astouchedasyou;andheaskedmeformeanstogetfoodonhisjourney.Well,well,timewillshow!’TheseremarksofBordinmademefearIhadfoolishlyyielded tomistaken sensibility. ‘Nevertheless,’ I said tomyself, ‘he, the oldlawyer,didasIdid.’IdonotthinkitnecessarytoexplaintoyouhowIlostall,ornearlyall,myproperty. Ihadplaceda little in theFunds,whichgavemefivehundredfrancsayear;allelsewasgone.Iwasthenthirty-fouryearsold.Iobtained, through the influenceofMonsieurBordin,aplaceasclerk,withasalaryofeighthundredfrancs,inabranchofficeoftheMont-de-piete,ruedesAugustins.FromthattimeIlivedverymodestly.IfoundasmalllodgingintheruedesMarais,onthe thirdfloor(tworoomsandacloset), for twohundredandfiftyfrancsayear.Idinedatacommonboarding-houseforfortyfrancsamonth.Icopiedwritingsatnight.UglyasIwasandpoor,Ihadtorenouncemarriage.”

As Godefroid heard this judgment which the poor man passed uponhimselfwithbeautifulsimplicityandresignation,hemadeamovementwhichproved, far more than any confidence in words could have done, theresemblance of their destinies; and the goodman, in answer to that eloquentgesture,seemedtoexpectthewordsthatfollowedit.

“Haveyouneverbeenloved?”askedGodefroid.

“Never!”hesaid;“exceptbyMadame,whoreturns tousall the lovewehave forher,—a lovewhich Imaycalldivine.Youmustbeawareof it.We

livethroughherlifeasshelivesthroughours;wehavebutonesoulamongus;andsuchpleasures,thoughtheyarenotphysical,arenonethelessintense;weexistthroughourhearts.Ah,mychild!”hecontinued,“whenwomencometoappreciatemoralqualities,theyareindifferenttoothers;andtheyarethenold—Oh!Ihavesuffereddeeply,—yes,deeply!”

“AndI,inthesameway,”saidGodefroid.

“Under the Empire,” said the worthy man, resuming his narrative, “theFunds did not always pay their dividends regularly; it was necessary to bepreparedforsuspensionsofpayment.From1802to1814therewasscarcelyaweekthat Ididnotattributemymisfortune toMongenod. ‘If itwerenot forMongenod,’ I used to say tomyself, ‘I might havemarried. If I had neverknownhimIshouldnotbeobligedtoliveinsuchprivation.’Butthen,again,therewereother timeswhen I said, ‘Perhaps theunfortunate fellowhasmetwithillluckoverthere.’In1806,atatimewhenIfoundmylifeparticularlyhard to bear, I wrote him a long letter, which I sent by way of Holland. Ireceivednoanswer.Iwaitedthreeyears,placingallmyhopesonthatanswer.AtlastIresignedmyselftomylife.TothefivehundredfrancsIreceivedfromtheFundsInowaddedtwelvehundredfromtheMont-de-piete(fortheyraisedmysalary),andfivehundredwhichIobtainedfromMonsieurCesarBirotteau,perfumer,forkeepinghisbooksintheevening.Thus,notonlydidImanagetoget along comfortably, but I laid by eight hundred francs a year. At thebeginning of 1814 I invested nine thousand francs of my savings at fortyfrancsintheFunds,andthusIwassureofsixteenhundredfrancsayearformyoldage.BythattimeIhadfifteenhundredayearfromtheMont-de-piete,six hundred for my book-keeping, sixteen hundred from the Funds; in all,three thousand seven hundred francs a year. I took a lodging in the rue deSeine, and lived a little better.Myplacehadbroughtme into relationswithmanyunfortunates.ForthelasttwelveyearsIhadknownbetterthananymanwhatsoeverthemiseryofthepoor.OnceortwiceIhadbeenabletodoarealservice.I feltavividpleasurewhenIfoundthatoutof tenpersonsrelieved,oneortwohouseholdshadbeenputontheirfeet.Itcameintomymindthatbenevolence ought not to consist in throwingmoney to thosewho suffered.‘Doing charity,’ to use that common expression, seemed to me too often apremiumofferedtocrime.Ibegantostudythequestion.Iwasthenfiftyyearsof age, and my life was nearly over. ‘Of what good am I?’ thought I. ‘TowhomcanIleavemysavings?WhenIhavefurnishedmyroomshandsomely,andfoundagoodcook,andmademylifesuitableinallrespects,whatthen?—howshallIemploymytime?’Elevenyearsofrevolution,andfifteenyearsofpoverty,had,asImaysay,eatenupthemostpreciouspartsofmylife,—useditupinsteriletoilformyownindividualpreservation.Nomanattheageoffiftycouldspringfromthatobscure,repressedconditiontoabrilliantfuture;but everymancouldbeofuse. Iunderstoodby this time thatwatchful care

andwisecounselshavetenfoldgreatervaluethanmoneygiven;forthepoor,above all things, need a guide, if only in the labor they do for others, forspeculatorsareneverlackingtotakeadvantageofthem.HereIsawbeforemeboth an end and an occupation, not to speak of the exquisite enjoymentsobtainedbyplayinginaminiaturewaytheroleofProvidence.”

“And to-day you play it in a grandway, do you not?” askedGodefroid,eagerly.

“Ah!youwanttoknoweverything,”saidtheoldman.“No,no!Wouldyoubelieveit,”hecontinuedafterthisinterruption,“thesmallnessofmymeanstodotheworkInowdesiredtodobroughtbackthethoughtofMongenod.‘IfitwerenotforMongenod,’Ikeptsayingtomyself,‘Icoulddosomuchmore.IfadishonestmanhadnotdeprivedmeoffifteenhundredfrancsayearIcouldsave this or that poor family.’ Excusing my own impotence by accusinganother, I felt that themiseries of those towhom I could offer nothing butwordsofconsolationwereacurseuponMongenod.Thatthoughtsoothedmyheart.Onemorning,inJanuary,1816,myhousekeeperannounced,—whomdoyousuppose?—Mongenod!MonsieurMongenod!Andwhomdoyou thinkIsawentermyroom?ThebeautifulyoungwomanIhadonceseen,—onlynowshewasthirty-sixyearsold,—followedbyherthreechildrenandMongenod.Helookedyoungerthanwhenhewentaway;forprosperityandhappinessdoshed a halo round their favorites. Thin, pale, yellow, shrivelled,when I lastsawhim,hewasnowplump,sleek,rosyasaprebendary,andwelldressed.Heflunghimself intomyarms.Feeling,perhaps, that I receivedhimcoldly,hisfirstwordswere:‘Friend,Icouldnotcomesooner.Theoceanwasnotfreetopassengershipstill1815;thenittookmeayeartocloseupmybusinessandrealizemyproperty.Ihavesucceeded,myfriend.WhenIreceivedyourletterin1806,IstartedinaDutchvesseltobringyoumyselfalittlefortune;buttheunionofHollandwiththeFrenchEmpirecausedthevesseltobetakenbytheEnglish and sent to Jamaica, fromwhich island I escaped bymere chance.WhenIreachedNewYorkIfoundIwasavictimtothebankruptcyofothers.InmyabsencemypoorCharlottehadnotbeenabletoprotectherselfagainstschemers. I was therefore forced to build up once more the edifice of myfortunes. However, it is all done now, and here we are. By the way thosechildrenare lookingatyou,youmustbeaware thatwehaveoften talked tothemoftheirfather’sbenefactor.’‘Oh,yes,yes,monsieur!’saidthebeautifulMongenod, ‘we have never passed a single day without remembering you.Your share has been set aside in all our affairs. We have looked forwardeagerly to the happinesswe nowhave in returning to you your fortune, notthinkingforamomentthatthepaymentofthesejustduescaneverwipeoutourdebtofgratitude.’With thosewordsMadameMongenodheldout tomethatmagnificentboxyouseeoverthere,inwhichwereonehundredandfiftynotesofathousandfrancseach.”

Theoldmanpausedaninstantasiftodwellonthatmoment;thenhewenton:—

“Mongenod looked at me fixedly and said: ‘My poor Alain, you havesuffered,Iknow;butwediddivineyoursufferings;wedidtryeverymeanstosendthemoneytoyou,andfailedineveryattempt.Youtoldmeyoucouldnotmarry,—thatIhadpreventedit.Buthereisoureldestdaughter;shehasbeenbroughtupinthethoughtofbecomingyourwife,andshewillhaveadowryoffivehundredthousandfrancs.’‘GodforbidthatIshouldmakehermiserable!’Icriedhastily,lookingatthegirl,whowasasbeautifulashermotherwhenIfirstsawher.Idrewhertometokissherbrow.‘Don’tbeafraid,mybeautifulchild!’ I said. ‘Amanof fifty to a girl of seventeen?—never! and aman asplain and ugly as I am?—never!’ I cried. ‘Monsieur,’ she said, ‘my father’sbenefactorcouldnotbeuglyforme.’Thosewords,saidspontaneously,withsimplecandor,mademeunderstandhowtruewasallthatMongenodhadsaid.I thengavehimmyhand,andweembracedeachotheragain. ‘Myfriend,’ Isaid,‘Ihavedoneyouwrong.Ihaveoftenaccusedyou,cursedyou.’‘Youhadtherighttodoso,Alain,’hereplied,blushing;‘yousuffered,andthroughme.’I tookMongenod’s note frommydesk and returned it to him. ‘Youwill allstayandbreakfastwithme, Ihope?’ I said to the family. ‘Oncondition thatyoudinewithus,’saidMongenod.‘Wearrivedyesterday.Wearegoingtobuya house; and I mean to open a banking business between Paris and NorthAmerica,soastoleaveittothisfellowhere,’headded,showingmehiseldestson,whowasfifteenyearsold.Wespenttherestofthedaytogetherandwenttotheplay;forMongenodandhisfamilywereactuallyhungryforthetheatre.ThenextmorningIplacedthewholesumintheFunds,andInowhadinallaboutfifteenthousandfrancsayear.Thisfortuneenabledmetogiveupbook-keepingatnight,andalsotoresignmyplaceattheMont-de-piete,tothegreatsatisfaction of the underlingwho stepped intomy shoes.My friend died in1827, at the age of sixty-three, after founding the great banking-house ofMongenodandCompany,whichmadeenormousprofits from the first loansundertheRestoration.Hisdaughter,towhomhesubsequentlygaveamillionindowry,marriedtheVicomtedeFontaine.Theeldestson,whomyouknow,isnotyetmarried;heliveswithhismotherandbrother.Weobtainfromthemallthesumsweneed.Frederic(hisfathergavehimmynameinAmerica),—FredericMongenodis,atthirty-sevenyearsofage,oneoftheablest,andmostupright,bankersinParis.NotverylongagoMadameMongenodadmittedtomethatshehadsoldherhair,asIsuspected,fortwelvefrancstobuybread.Shegivesmenowtwenty-fourcordsofwoodayear formypoorpeople, inexchangeforthehalfcordwhichIoncesenther.”

“This explains tome your relations with the house ofMongenod,” saidGodefroid,—“andyourfortune.”

Again the goodman looked at Godefroid with a smile, and the sameexpressionofkindlymischief.

“Oh,goon!”saidGodefroid,seeingfromhismannerthathehadmoretotell.

“Thisconclusion,mydearGodefroid,madethedeepestimpressiononme.If themanwho had suffered somuch, ifmy friend forgavemy injustice, Icouldnotforgivemyself.”

“Oh!”ejaculatedGodefroid.

“Iresolvedtodevoteallmysuperfluousmeans—abouttenthousandfrancsa year—to acts of intelligent benevolence,” continued Monsieur Alain,tranquilly.“AboutthistimeitwasthatImadetheacquaintanceofajudgeoftheLowerCivilCourt of theSeinenamedPopinot,whomwehad thegreatgriefof losing threeyearsago,andwhopractised for fifteenyearsanactiveandmost intelligent charity in thequartierSaint-Marcel. Itwashe,with thevenerable vicar ofNotre-Dame andMadame,who first thought of foundingthe work in which we are now co-operating, and which, since 1825, hasquietly done much good. This work has found its soul in Madame de laChanterie, for she is truly the inspiration of this enterprise. The vicar hasknownhowtomakeusmorereligiousthanwewereatfirst,byshowingusthenecessity of being virtuous ourselves in order to inspire virtue; in short, topreachbyexample.Thefartherwehaveadvancedinourwork,thehappierwehavemutuallyfoundourselves.Andso,yousee,itreallywastherepentanceIfelt for misconceiving the heart of my friend which gave me the idea ofdevoting to thepoor, throughmyownhands, the fortunehe returned tome,andwhichIacceptedwithoutobjectingtotheimmensityofthesumreturnedinproportiontothesumlent.Itsdestinationjustifiedmytakingit.”

This narration, made quietly, without assumption, but with a gentlekindlinessinaccent,look,andgesture,wouldhaveinspiredGodefroidtoenterthisnobleandsacredassociationifhisresolutionhadnotalreadybeentaken.

“Youknowtheworldverylittle,”hesaid,“ifyouhavesuchscruplesaboutamatterthatwouldnotweighonanyotherman’sconscience.”

“I know only the unfortunate,” saidMonsieurAlain. “I do not desire toknowaworldinwhichmenaresolittleafraidofjudgingoneanother.Butsee!it is almostmidnight, and I still havemy chapter of the ‘Imitation of JesusChrist’tomeditateupon!Good-night!”

Godefroid took theoldman’shandandpressed it,withanexpressionofadmiration.

“CanyoutellmeMadamedelaChanterie’shistory?”

“Impossible, without her consent,” replied Monsieur Alain; “for it isconnected with one of the most terrible events of Imperial policy. It wasthroughmyfriendBordinthatIfirstknewMadame.Hehadinhispossessionallthesecretsofthatnoblelife;itwashewho,ifImaysayso,ledmetothishouse.”

“I thank you,” said Godefroid, “for having told me your life; there aremanylessonsinitforme.”

“Doyouknowwhatisthemoralofit?”

“Tellme,”saidGodefroid,“forperhapsImayseesomethingdifferentinitfromwhatyousee.”

“Well,itisthis:thatpleasureisanaccidentinaChristian’slife;itisnottheaimofit;andthiswelearntoolate.”

“WhathappenswhenweturntoChristianity?”askedGodefroid.

“See!”saidthegoodman.

Hepointedwithhisfingertosomelettersofgoldonablackgroundwhichthenewlodgerhadnotobserved,forthiswasthefirsttimehehadeverbeeninMonsieur Alain’s room. Godefroid turned and read the words: TRANSIREBENEFACIENDO.

“That is our motto. If you become one of us, that will be your onlycommission.Wereadthatcommission,whichwehavegiventoourselves,atalltimes,inthemorningwhenwerise,intheeveningwhenweliedown,andwhenwearedressing.Ah!ifyoudidbutknowwhatimmensepleasuresthereareinaccomplishingthatmotto!”

“Suchas—?”saidGodefroid,hopingforfurtherrevelations.

“ImusttellyouthatweareasrichasBarondeNucingenhimself.Butthe‘ImitationofJesusChrist’forbidsustoregardourwealthasourown.Weareonlythespendersofit;andifwehadanyprideinbeingthat,weshouldnotbeworthy of dispensing it. It would not be transire benefaciendo; it would beinwardenjoyment.Forifyousaytoyourselfwithaswellingofthenostrils,‘Iplay thepartofProvidence!’ (asyoumighthave thought ifyouhadbeen inmy place this morning and saved the future lives of a whole family), youwouldbecomeaSardanapalus,—anevilone!Noneofthesegentlemenlivingherethinksofhimselfwhenhedoesgood.Allvanity,allpride,allself-love,mustbestrippedoff,andthatishardtodo,—yes,veryhard.”

Godefroid bade him good-night, and returned to his own room, deeplyaffectedby thisnarrative.Buthiscuriositywasmorewhetted thansatisfied,forthecentralfigureofthepicturewasMadamedelaChanterie.Thehistoryofthelifeofthatwomanbecameoftheutmostimportancetohim,sothathe

made the obtaining of it the object of his stay in that house. He alreadyperceivedinthisassociationoffivepersonsavastenterpriseofCharity;buthethoughtfarlessofthatthanhedidofitsheroine.

VIII.WHOSHEWAS—WIFEANDMOTHER

Thewould-bedisciplepassedmanydaysinobservingmorecarefullythanhehadhithertodonetherarepersonsamongwhomfatehadbroughthim;andhe became the subject of a moral phenomenonwhichmodern philosophershavedespised,—possiblyoutofignorance.

The sphere inwhichhe livedhadapositive actionuponGodefroid.Thelaws which regulate the physical nature under relation to the atmosphericenvironmentinwhichit isdeveloped,rulealsointhemoralnature.Henceitfollows that the assembling together of condemned prisoners is one of thegreatest of social crimes; and also that their isolation is an experiment ofdoubtful success.Condemned criminals ought to be in religious institutions,surroundedbyprodigiesofGood,insteadofbeingcastastheyareintosightandknowledgeofEvilonly.TheChurchcanbeexpectedtoshowanabsolutedevotionin thismatter.If itsendsmissionaries toheathenorsavagenations,with howmuchgreater joywould itwelcome themission of redeeming theheathen of civilization? for all criminals are atheists, and often withoutknowingtheyareso.

Godefroidfoundthesefiveassociatedpersonsendowedwiththequalitiesthey required in him. They were all without pride, without vanity, trulyhumble and pious; also without any of the pretension which constitutesdevotion,usingthatwordinitsworstsense.Thesevirtueswerecontagious;hewas filled with a desire to imitate these hidden heroes, and he ended bypassionatelystudyingthebookhehadbegunbydespising.Withintwoweekshereducedhisviewsoflifetoitssimplestlines,—towhatitreallyiswhenweconsideritfromthehigherpointofviewtowhichtheDivinespirit leadsus.His curiosity—worldly at first, and excited by many vulgar and materialmotives—purifieditself;ifhedidnotrenounceitaltogether,thefaultwasnothis;anyonewouldhavefounditdifficulttoresignaninterestinMadamedelaChanterie;butGodefroidshowed,without intending it,adiscretionwhichwasappreciatedbythesepersons,inwhomthedivineSpirithaddevelopedamarvellouspowerofthefaculties,—as,indeed,itoftendoesamongrecluses.Theconcentrationofthemoralforces,nomatterunderwhatsystemitmaybeeffected,increasesthecompassofthemtenfold.

“Ourfriendisnotyetconverted,”saidthegoodAbbedeVeze,“butheis

seekingtobe.”

AnunforeseencircumstancebroughtabouttherevelationofMadamedelaChanterie’shistory toGodefroid;andso fullywas thismade tohim that theoverpoweringinterestsheexcitedinhissoulwascompletelysatisfied.

Thepublicmindwasatthattimemuchoccupiedbyoneofthosehorriblecriminal trials which mark the annals of our police-courts. This trial hadgathered its chief interest from the character of the criminals themselves,whoseaudacity,superiorintelligenceinevil,andcynicalreplies,hadhorrifiedthecommunity.Itisamatterworthyofremarkthatnonewspapereverfoundits way into the hotel de la Chanterie, and Godefroid only heard of therejectionofthecriminals’appealfromhismasterinbook-keeping;forthetrialitselfhadtakenplacesometimebeforehecametoliveinhisnewabode.

“Do you ever encounter,” he said to his new friends, “such atrociousvillains as those men? and if you do encounter them, how do youmanagethem?”

“Inthefirstplace,”saidMonsieurNicolas,“therearenoatrociousvillains.There are diseased natures, to be cared for in asylums; but outside of thoserare medical cases, we find only persons who are without religion, or whoreasonill;andthemissionofcharityistoteachthemtherightuseofreason,toencouragetheweak,andguidearightthosewhogoastray.”

“And,”saidtheAbbedeVeze,“allispossibletosuchteachers,forGodiswiththem.”

“Iftheyweretosendyouthosecriminals,youcoulddonothingwiththem,couldyou?”askedGodefroid.

“Thetimewouldbetooshort,”remarkedMonsieurAlain.

“Ingeneral,” saidMonsieurNicolas, “persons turnover to religion soulswhichhavereachedthelaststagesofevil,andleaveitnotimetodoitswork.Thecriminalsofwhomyouspeakweremenofremarkablevigor;couldtheyhave been within our hands in time they might have become distinguishedmen; but as soon as they committed amurder, itwas no longer possible tointerfere;theythenbelongedtohumanjustice.”

“That must mean,” said Godefroid, “that you are against the penalty ofdeath?”

MonsieurNicolasrosehastilyandlefttheroom.

“DonotevermentionthepenaltyofdeathagainbeforeMonsieurNicolas,”saidMonsieurAlain.“Herecognizedinacriminalatwhoseexecutionhewasofficiallypresenthisnaturalson.”

“Andthesonwasinnocent!”addedMonsieurJoseph.

MadamedelaChanterie,whohadbeenabsentforawhile,returnedtothesalonatthismoment.

“Butyoumustadmit,”saidGodefroid,addressingMonsieurJoseph,“thatsocietycannotexistwithoutthedeathpenalty,andthatthosepersonswhoto-morrowmorningwillhavetheirheadscut—”

Godefroidfelthismouthsuddenlyclosedbyavigoroushand,andhesawthe abbe leading away Madame de la Chanterie in an almost faintingcondition.

“What have you done?”Monsieur Joseph said to him. “Take him away,Alain!” he added, removing the handwithwhichhe hadgaggedGodefroid.ThenhefollowedtheAbbedeVezeintoMadamedelaChanterie’sroom.

“Come!” saidMonsieurAlain toGodefroid; “youhavemade it essentialthatIshouldtellyouthesecretsofMadame’slife.”

Theywerepresentlysittingintheoldman’sroom.

“Well?” saidGodefroid,whose face showedplainlyhis regret forhavingbeenthecauseofsomethingwhich,inthatpeacefulhome,mightbecalledacatastrophe.

“I am waiting till Manon comes to reassure us,” replied the goodman,listeningtothestepsofthemaiduponthestaircase.

“Madameisbetter,”saidManon.“Monsieurl’abbehasdeceivedherastowhatwassaid.”AndshelookedatGodefroidangrily.

“GoodGod!”cried thepoor fellow, indistress, the tearscoming intohiseyes.

“Come, sit down,” said Monsieur Alain, sitting down himself. Then hemadeapauseas if togatheruphis ideas. “Idon’tknow,”hewenton, “if Ihavethetalenttoworthilyrelatealifesocruellytried.Youmustexcusemeifthewords of so poor a speaker as I are beneath the level of its actions andcatastrophes.Remember that it is long since I left school, and that I am thechild of a century inwhichmen caredmore for thought than for effect,—aprosaiccenturywhichknewonlyhowtocallthingsbytheirrightnames.”

Godefroid made an acquiescing gesture, with an expression of sincereadmiration,andsaidsimply,“Iamlistening.”

“Youhavejusthadaproof,myyoungfriend,”resumedtheoldman,“thatitisimpossibleyoushouldremainamonguswithoutknowingatleastsomeoftheterriblefactsinthelifeofthatsaintlywoman.Thereareideasandillusionsand fatal words which are completely interdicted in this house, lest they

reopen wounds in Madame’s heart, and cause a suffering which, if againrenewed,mightkillher.”

“GoodGod!”criedGodefroid,“whathaveIdone?”

“IfMonsieur Joseph had not stopped the words on your lips, you wereabouttospeakofthatfatalinstrumentofdeath,andthatwouldhavestrickendownMadamedelaChanterielikeathunderbolt.Itistimeyoushouldknowall,foryouwillreallybelongtousbeforelong,—weallthinkso.Here,then,isthehistoryofherlife:—

“MadamedelaChanterie,”hewenton,afterapause,“comesfromoneofthe first families ofLowerNormandy.Hermaiden namewasMademoiselleBarbe-PhilibertedeChampignelles,oftheyoungerbranchofthathouse.Shewas destined to take the veil unless she could make a marriage whichrenouncedonthehusband’ssidethedowryherfamilycouldnotgiveher.Thiswasfrequentlythecaseinthefamiliesofpoornobles.

“ASieurdelaChanterie,whosefamilyhadfallenintoobscurity,thoughitdates from theCrusadeofPhilipAugustus,wasanxious to recover the rankandpositionwhichthisancient lineageproperlygavehimintheprovinceofNormandy.Thisgentlemanhaddoublyderogatedfromhisrightfulstation;forhe had amassed a fortune of nearly a million of francs as purveyor to thearmiesofthekingatthetimeofthewarinHanover.Theoldmanhadason;andthisson,presumingonhisfather’swealth(greatlyexaggeratedbyrumor),wasleadingalifeinParisthatgreatlydisquietedhisfather.

“ThewordofMademoiselledeChampignelle’scharacterwaswellknownintheBessin,—thatbeautifulregionofLowerNormandynearBayeux,wherethefamilylived.Theoldman,whoselittleestateoflaChanteriewasbetweenCaenandSaint-Lo,oftenheardregretsexpressedbeforehimthatsoperfectayoung girl, and one so capable of rendering a husband happy, should becondemnedtopassherlifeinaconvent.When,onreflection,heexpressedadesire to know more of the young lady, the hope was held out to him ofobtainingthehandofMademoisellePhiliberteforhisson,providedhewouldtakeherwithoutdowry.Hewent toBayeux,hadseveral interviewswith theChampignelles’sfamily,andwascompletelywonbythenoblequalitiesoftheyounggirl.

“Atsixteenyearsofage,MademoiselledeChampignellesgavepromiseofwhatshewouldultimatelybecome.Itwaseasytoseeinheralivingpiety,anunalterablegoodsense,aninflexibleuprightness,andoneofthosesoulswhichnever detach themselves from an affection under any compulsion. The oldfather,enrichedbyhisextortionsinthearmy,recognizedinthischarminggirla woman who could restrain his son by the power of virtue, and by theascendancyofanaturethatwasfirmwithoutrigidity.

“Youhaveseenher,”saidMonsieurAlain,pausing inhisnarrative,“andyouknowthatnoonecanbegentlerthanMadamedelaChanterie;andalso,Imay tell you, that no one is more confiding. She has kept, even to herdeclining years, the candor and simplicity of innocence; she has never beenwillingtobelieveinevil,andthelittlemistrustyoumayhavenoticedinherisdueonlytoherterriblemisfortunes.

“The old man,” said Monsieur Alain, continuing, “agreed with theChampignelles family togivea receipt for the legaldowerofMademoisellePhiliberte(thiswasnecessaryinthosedays);butinreturn,theChampignelles,whowerealliedtomanyofthegreatfamilies,promisedtoobtaintheerectionof the little fiefof laChanterie intoabarony;and theykept theirword.Theaunt of the future husband, Madame de Boisfrelon, the widow of aparliamentary councillor, promised to bequeath her whole fortune to hernephew.

“When these arrangements had been completed by the two families, thefather sent for the son.At this time the latterwasMasterofpetitions to theGrandCouncil.Hewastwenty-fiveyearsofage,andhadalreadylivedalifeof follywithall theyoungseigneursof theperiod; in fact, theoldpurveyorhadbeenforcedmorethanoncetopayhisdebts.Thepoorfather,foreseeingfurtherfollies,wasonlytoogladtomakeasettlementonhisdaughter-in-lawofacertainsum;andheentailedtheestateoflaChanterieontheheirsmaleofthemarriage.

“ButtheRevolution,”saidMonsieurAlaininaparenthesis,“madethatlastprecautionuseless.

“Giftedwith thebeautyofanangel,”hecontinued,“andwithwonderfulgrace and agility in all exercises of the body, the youngMaster of petitionspossessedthegiftofcharm.MademoiselledeChampignellesbecame,asyoucan readily believe, very much in love with her husband. The old man,delightedwith theoutsetof themarriage, andbelieving in the reformofhisson,senttheyoungcoupletoParis.Allthishappenedaboutthebeginningoftheyear1788.

“Nearly a whole year of happiness followed. Madame de la Chanterieenjoyed during that time the tenderest care and themost delicate attentionsthatamandeeplyinlovecanbestowuponalovingwoman.Howevershortitmayhavebeen,thehoneymoondidshineintotheheartofthatnobleandmostunfortunatewoman.Youknowthatinthosedayswomennursedtheirchildren.MadamedelaChanteriehadadaughter.Thatperiodduringwhichawomanought tobe theobjectof redoubledcareand tendernessproved, in thiscase,thebeginningofuntoldmiseries.TheMasterofpetitionswasobligedtosellallthepropertyhecouldlayhishandsontopayformerdebts(whichhehad

not acknowledged to his father) and fresh losses at play. Then theNationalAssemblydecreed thedissolutionof theGrandCouncil, theparliament, andallthelawofficessodearlybought.

“The young household, increased by a daughter,was soonwithout othermeansthanthosesettleduponMadamedelaChanteriebyherfather-in-law.Intwentymonths that charmingwoman, now only seventeen and a half yearsold,wasobliged to live—she and the child shewasnursing—in anobscurequarter,andbythelaborofherhands.Shewasthenentirelyabandonedbyherhusband,whofellbydegrees lowerandlower, into thesocietyofwomenoftheworst kind.Never did she reproach her husband, never has she allowedherselftoblamehim.Shehassometimestoldushow,duringthosewretcheddays,shewouldprayforher‘dearHenri.’

“ThatscampwasnamedHenri,”saidtheworthymaninterruptinghimself.“Wenevermentionthatnamehere,northatofHenriette.Iresume:

“NeverleavingherlittleroomintheruedelaCorderieduTemple,excepttobuyprovisionsortofetchherwork,MadamedelaChanteriecontrivedtogetalong,thankstoahundredfrancswhichherfather-in-law,touchedbyhergoodness,senttoheronceamonth.Nevertheless,foreseeingthatthatresourcemight fail her, the poor young woman had taken up the hard and toilsomework of corset-making in the service of a celebrated dressmaker. Thisprecautionprovedawiseone.Thefatherdied,andhispropertywasobtainedby the son (the oldmonarchical laws of entail being then overthrown) andspeedilydissipatedbyhim.TheformerMasterofpetitionswasnowoneofthemost ferocious presidents of the Revolutionary tribunals of that period; hebecame the terror of Normandy, and was able to satisfy all his passions.Imprisoned in his turn after the fall of Robespierre, the hatred of hisdepartmentdoomedhimtocertaindeath.

“MadamedelaChanterieheardofthisthroughaletteroffarewellwhichher husband wrote to her. Instantly, giving her little girl to the care of aneighbor,shewenttothetownwherethatwretchwasimprisoned,takingwithher the few louiswhichwereall that sheowned.These louisenabledher tomake her way into the prison. She succeeded in saving her husband bydressing him in her own clothes, under circumstances almost identicalwiththosewhich,sometimelater,weresoserviceabletoMadamedelaValette.Shewas condemned to death, but the governmentwas ashamed to carry out thesentence;andtheRevolutionarytribunal(theoneoverwhichherhusbandhadformerly presided) connived at her escape. She returned to Paris on foot,withoutmeans,sleepinginfarmbuildingsandfedbycharity.”

“GoodGod!”criedGodefroid.

“Ah!wait,”saidMonsieurAlain;“thatisnothing.Ineightyearsthepoor

woman saw her husband three times. The first time he stayed twenty-fourhours in the humble lodging of hiswife, and carried awaywith him all hermoney;havingshoweredherwithmarksoftendernessandmadeherbelieveinhiscompleteconversion.‘Icouldnot,’shesaid,‘refuseahusbandforwhomIprayeddaily andofwhomI thought exclusively.’On the secondoccasion,MonsieurdelaChanteriearrivedalmostdying,andwithwhatanillness!Shenursedhimandsavedhislife.Thenshetriedtobringhimtobettersentimentsand a decent life.After promising all that angel asked, the jacobin plungedbackintofrightfulprofligacy,andfinallyescapedthehandsofjusticeonlybyagaintakingrefugewithhiswife,inwhosecarehediedinsafety.

“Oh! but that is nothing!” cried the goodman, seeing the pain onGodefroid’sface.“Noone,intheworldinwhichhelived,hadknownhewasamarriedman.TwoyearsafterhisdeathMadamedelaChanteriediscoveredthatasecondMadamedelaChanterieexisted,widowedlikeherself,and,likeher,ruined.Thatbigamisthadfoundtwoangelsincapableofdiscardinghim.

“Towards 1803,” resumedAlain after a pause, “Monsieur deBoisfrelon,uncleofMadamedelaChanterie,cametoParis,hisnamehavingbeenerasedfrom the list of emigres, and brought Madame the sum of two hundredthousand francs which her father-in-law, the old purveyor, had formerlyentrustedtohimforthebenefitofhisson’schildren.HepersuadedthewidowtoreturntoNormandy;whereshecompletedtheeducationofherdaughterandpurchasedonexcellenttermsandstillbytheadviceofheruncle,apatrimonialestate.”

“Ah!”criedGodefroid.

“Allthatisstillnothing,”saidMonsieurAlain;“wehavenotyetreachedtheperiodofstormsanddarkness.Iresume:

“In 1807, after four years of rest and peace, Madame de la Chanteriemarried her daughter to a gentleman of rank,whose piety, antecedents, andfortune offered every guarantee that could be given,—amanwho, to use apopular saying, ‘was after every one’s ownheart,’ in the best society of theprovincialcitywhereMadameandherdaughterpassedtheirwinters.IshouldtellyouthatthissocietywascomposedofsevenoreightfamiliesbelongingtothehighestnobilityinFrance:d’Esgrignon,Troisville,Casteran,Nouatre,etc.Attheendofeighteenmonthsthebarondesertedhiswife,anddisappearedinParis,wherehechangedhisname.

“MadamedelaChanterieneverknewthecausesofthisdesertionuntilthelightning of a dreadful storm revealed them.Her daughter, brought upwithanxiouscareandtrainedinthepurestreligioussentiments,kepttotalsilenceastoher troubles.This lackofconfidence inhermotherwasapainfulblowtoMadame de la Chanterie. Already she had several times noticed in her

daughterindicationsoftherecklessdispositionofthefather,increasedinthedaughterbyanalmostvirilestrengthofwill.

“Thehusband,however,abandonedhishomeofhisownfreewill,leavinghisaffairsinapitiablecondition.MadamedelaChanterieis,eventothisday,amazed at the catastrophe,whichnohuman foresight couldhaveprevented.Thepersonssheprudentlyconsultedbeforethemarriagehadassuredherthatthe suitor’s fortunewasclearandsound,and thatnomortgageswereonhisestate. Nevertheless it appeared, after the husband’s departure, that for tenyearshisdebtshadexceededtheentirevalueofhisproperty.Everythingwasthereforesold,andthepooryoungwife,nowreducedtoherownmeans,cameback to her mother. Madame de la Chanterie knew later that the mosthonorablepersonsoftheprovincehadvouchedforherson-in-lawintheirowninterests;forheowedthemalllargesumsofmoney,andtheylookeduponhismarriagewithMademoiselledelaChanterieasameanstorecoverthem.

“Therewere,however,other reasons for thiscatastrophe,whichyouwillfind later in a confidential paper written for the eyes of the Emperor.Moreover,thismanhadlongcourtedthegood-willoftheroyalistfamiliesbyhis devotion to the royal causeduring theRevolution.HewasoneofLouisXVIII.‘s most active emissaries, and had taken part after 1793 in allconspiracies,—escaping their penalties, however, with such singularadroitnessthathecame,intheend,tobedistrusted.Thankedforhisservicesby Louis XVIII., but completely set aside in the royalist affairs, he hadreturnedtoliveonhisproperty,nowmuchencumberedwithdebt.

“Theseantecedentswerethenobscure(thepersonsinitiatedintothesecretsof the royalclosetkept silenceabout sodangerousacoadjutor), andhewastherefore received with a species of reverence in a city devoted to theBourbons, where the cruellest deeds of the Chouannerie were accepted aslegitimatewarfare.The d’Esgrignons,Casterans, theChevalier deValois, inshort,thewholearistocracyandtheChurchopenedtheirarmstothisroyalistdiplomatanddrewhiminto theircircle.Theirprotectionwasencouragedbythe desire of his creditors for the payment of his debts. For three years thisman,whowasavillainatheart,apendanttothelateBarondelaChanterie,contrived to restrain his vices and assume the appearance of morality andreligion.

“Duringthefirstmonthsofhismarriageheexertedasortofspelloverhiswife; he tried to corrupt her mind by his doctrines (if it can be said thatatheism is a doctrine) and by the jesting tone in which he spoke of sacredprinciples. From the time of his return to the provinces this politicalmanoeuvrerhadan intimacywithayoungman,overwhelmedwithdebt likehimself, but whose natural character was as frank and courageous as thebaron’s was hypocritical and base. This frequent guest, whose

accomplishments, strong character, and adventurous life were calculated toinfluenceayounggirl’smind,wasaninstrumentinthehandsofthehusbandtobringthewifetoadopthistheories.Neverdidshelethermotherknowtheabyssintowhichherfatehadcasther.

“Wemaywelldistrust allhumanprudencewhenwe thinkof the infiniteprecautionstakenbyMadamedelaChanterieinmarryingheronlydaughter.Theblow,whenitcametoalifesodevoted,sopure,sotrulyreligiousasthatof awoman already tested bymany trials, gaveMadame de la Chanterie adistrustofherselfwhich served to isolateher fromherdaughter; andall themore because her daughter, in compensation for her misfortunes, exactedcompleteliberty,ruledhermother,andwaseven,attimes,unkindtoher.

“Woundedthusinallheraffections,mistakeninherdevotionandloveforher husband, towhomshehad sacrificedwithout awordher happiness, herfortune,andherlife;mistakenintheeducationexclusivelyreligiouswhichshehadgiventoherdaughter;mistakenintheconfidenceshehadplacedinothersintheaffairofherdaughter’smarriage;andobtainingnojusticefromtheheartinwhichshehadsownnonebutnoblesentiments,sheunitedherselfstillmoreclosely to God as the hand of trouble lay heavy upon her. She was indeedalmost a nun; going daily to church, performing cloistral penances, andpractisingeconomythatshemighthavemeanstohelpthepoor.

“Couldtherebe,uptothispoint,asaintlierlifeoronemoretriedthanthatof this noble woman, so gentle under misfortune, so brave in danger, andalwaysChristian?”saidMonsieurAlain,appealingtoGodefroid.“YouknowMadamenow,—youknowifsheiswantinginsense,judgment,reflection;infact,shehasthosequalitiestothehighestdegree.Well!themisfortunesIhavenow told you, which might be said to make her life surpass all others inadversity,areasnothingtothosethatwerestillinstoreforthispoorwoman.ButnowletusconcernourselvesexclusivelywithMadamedelaChanterie’sdaughter,”saidtheoldman,resuminghisnarrative.

“Ateighteenyearsofage,theperiodofhermarriage,MademoiselledelaChanterie was a young girl of delicate complexion, brown in tone with abrilliant color,graceful in shape, andverypretty.Abovea foreheadofgreatbeautywasamassofdarkhairwhichharmonizedwiththebrowneyesandthegeneral gaiety of her expression. A certain daintiness of feature wasmisleading as to her true character and her almost virile decision. She hadsmall hands and small feet; in fact, there was something fragile about herwhole person which excluded the idea of vigor and determination. Havingalwayslivedbesidehermother,shehadamostperfect innocenceofthoughtandbehaviorandareallyremarkablepiety.Thisyounggirl, likehermother,wasfanaticallyattachedtotheBourbons;shewasthereforeabitterenemytotheRevolution,andregardedthedominionofNapoleonasacurseinflictedby

ProvidenceuponFranceinpunishmentofthecrimesof1793.

“The conformity of opinion on this subject between Madame de laChanterie and her daughter, and the daughter’s suitor, was one of thedeterminingreasonsofthemarriage.

“ThefriendofthehusbandhadcommandedabodyofChouansatthetimethat hostilities were renewed in 1799; and it seems that the baron’s object(MadamedelaChanterie’sson-in-lawwasabaron)infosteringtheintimacybetweenhiswifeandhisfriendwas toobtain, throughher influence,certainsuccorfromthatfriend.

“This requires a few words of explanation,” said Monsieur Alain,interruptinghisnarrative, “about anassociationwhich in thosedaysmadeagreat deal of noise. Imean the ‘Chauffeurs.‘ Every province in thewest ofFrance was at that time more or less overrun with these ‘brigands,’ whoseobject was far less pillage than a resurrection of the royalist warfare. Theyprofited, so it was said, by the great number of ‘refractories,’—the nameappliedtothosewhoevadedtheconscription,whichwasatthattime,asyouprobablyknow,enforcedtoactualabuse.

“BetweenMortagneandRennes,andevenbeyond,asfarasthebanksoftheLoire,nocturnalexpeditionswereorganized,whichattacked,especiallyinNormandy, theholdersofpropertybought from theNationaldomain.Thesearmed bands sent terror throughout those regions. I am notmisleading youwhenIaskyou toobserve that incertaindepartments theactionof the lawswasforalongtimeparalyzed.

“Theselastechoesofthecivilwarmademuchlessnoisethanyouwouldimagine, accustomed as we are now to the frightful publicity given by thepress toevery trial, even the least important,whetherpoliticalor individual.ThesystemoftheImperialgovernmentwasthatofallabsolutegovernments.The censor allowed nothing to be published in thematter of politics exceptaccomplishedfacts,andthoseweretravestied.Ifyouwill takethetrouble tolook through files of the ‘Moniteur’ and the other newspapers of that time,eventhoseoftheWest,youwillnotfindawordaboutthefourorfivecriminaltrials which cost the lives of sixty or eighty ‘brigands.’ The term brigands,applied during the revolutionary period to the Vendeans, Chouans, and allthosewhotookuparmsforthehouseofBourbon,wasafterwardscontinuedjudicially under the Empire against all royalists accused of plots. To someardentandloyalnaturestheemperorandhisgovernmentweretheenemy;anyformofwarfareagainstthemwaslegitimate.Iamonlyexplainingtoyoutheseopinions,notjustifyingthem.

“Now,”hesaid,afteroneofthosepauseswhicharenecessaryinsuchlongnarratives,“ifyourealizehowtheseroyalists,ruinedbythecivilwarof1793,

weredominatedbyviolentpassions,andhowsomeexceptionalnatures(likethat ofMadame de la Chanterie’s son-in-law and his friend)were eaten upwithdesiresofallkinds,youmaybeable tounderstandhowitwas that theactsofbrigandagewhichtheirpoliticalviewsjustifiedwhenemployedagainstthe government in the service of the good cause, might in some cases becommittedforpersonalends.

“The younger of the two men had been for some time employed incollecting the scattered fragments of Chouannerie, and was holding themready to act at an opportune moment. There came a terrible crisis in theEmperor’s careerwhen, shut up in the islandofLobau, he seemed about togivewayunderthecombinedandsimultaneousattackofEnglandandAustria.ThiswasthemomentfortheChouanuprising;butjustasitwasabouttotakeplace, the victory of Wagram rendered the conspiracy in the provincespowerless.

“ThisexpectationofexcitingcivilwarinBrittany,LaVendee,andpartofNormandy,coincidedintimewiththefinalwreckofthebaron’sfortune;andthiswreck,comingatthistime,ledhimtoundertakeanexpeditiontocapturefundsofthegovernmentwhichhemightapplytotheliquidationoftheclaimsuponhisproperty.ButhiswifeandfriendrefusedtotakepartinapplyingtoprivateintereststhemoneytakenbyarmedforcefromtheReceiver’sofficesandthecouriersandpost-carriagesofthegovernment,—moneytaken,astheythought, justifiablyby the rulesofwar topay the regimentsof ‘refractories’and Chouans, and purchase the arms and ammunition with which to equipthem.Atlast,afteranangrydiscussioninwhichtheyoungleader,supportedby thewife, positively refused to handover to thehusband a portionof thelargesumofmoneywhichtheyoungleaderhadseizedforthebenefitoftheroyal armies from the treasury of the West, the baron suddenly andmysteriously disappeared, to avoid arrest for debt, having nomeans left bywhich toward it off. PoorMadamede laChanteriewaswholly ignorant ofthese facts; but even they are nothing to the plot still hidden behind thesepreliminaryfacts.

“Itistoolateto-night,”saidMonsieurAlain,lookingathislittleclock,“togo onwithmynarrative,whichwould takeme, in any case, a long time tofinish inmy ownwords.OldBordin,my friend,whosemanagement of thefamousSimeusecasehadwonhimmuchcreditintheroyalistparty,andwhopleaded in the well-known criminal affair called that of the Chauffeurs deMortagne, gave me, after I was installed in this house, two legal papersrelatingtotheterriblehistoryofMadamedelaChanterieandherdaughter.Ikept them because Bordin died soon after, before I had a chance to returnthem.Youshallreadthem.YouwillfindthefactsmuchmoresuccinctlystatedthanIcouldstate them.Those factsaresonumerous that I shouldonly lose

myselfinthedetailsandconfusethem,whereasinthosepapersyouhavetheminalegalsummary.To-morrow,ifyoucometome,Iwillfinishtellingyouallthat relates toMadame de laChanterie; for youwill then know the generalfactssothoroughlythatIcanendthewholestoryinafewwords.”

IX.THELEGALSTATEMENT

MonsieurAlainplacedthepapers,yellowedbytime,inGodefroid’shand;thelatter,biddingtheoldmangood-night,carriedthemofftohisroom,whereheread,beforeheslept,thefollowingdocument:—

THEINDICTMENT

CourtofCriminalandSpecialJusticefortheDepartmentoftheOrne

Theattorney-generaltotheImperialCourtofCaen,appointedtofulfilhisfunctions before the Special Criminal Court established by imperial decreeunder date September, 1809, and sitting at Alencon, states to the ImperialCourtthefollowingfactswhichhaveappearedundertheaboveprocedure.

The plot of a company of brigands, evidently long planned withconsummate care, and connected with a scheme for inciting the Westerndepartmentstorevolt,hasshownitself incertainattemptsagainst theprivateproperty of citizens, but more especially in an armed attack and robberycommittedonthemail-coachwhichtransported,May—,18—,themoneyinthetreasuryatCaentotheTreasuryofFrance.Thisattack,whichrecallsthedeplorableincidentsofacivilwarnowhappilyextinguished,manifestsaspiritofwickednesswhichthepoliticalpassionsofthepresentdaydonotjustify.

Letuspasstothefacts.Theplotiscomplicated,thedetailsarenumerous.The investigationhas lastedoneyear; but the evidence,whichhas followedthe crime step by step, has thrown the clearest light on its preparation,execution,andresults.

The conception of the plot was formed by one Charles-Amedee-Louis-Joseph Rifoel, calling himself Chevalier du Vissard, born at the Vissard,districtofSaint-Mexme,nearErnee,andaformerleaderoftherebels.

Thiscriminal,whomH.M.theEmperorandKingpardonedatthetimeofthegeneralpacification,andwhohasprofitedbythesovereign’smagnanimityto commit other crimes, has already paid on the scaffold the penalty of hismanymisdeeds;but it isnecessarytorecallsomeofhisactions,becausehisinfluence was great on the guilty persons now before the court, and he iscloselyconnectedwiththefactsofhiscase.

This dangerous agitator, concealed, according to the usual customof therebels, under the name of Pierrot, went from place to place throughout thedepartmentsof theWestgatheringtogether theelementsofrebellion;buthischief resort was the chateau of Saint-Savin, the residence of a MadameLechantre and her daughter, a Madame Bryond, situated in the district ofSaint-Savin,arrondissementofMortagne.Severalofthemosthorribleeventsoftherebellionof1799areconnectedwiththisstrategicpoint.

Here a bearer of despatches was murdered, his carriage pillaged by thebrigands under command of a woman, assisted by the notoriousMarche-a-Terre.Brigandageappearedtobeendemicinthatlocality.

Anintimacy,whichweshallnotattempttocharacterize,existedformorethanayearbetweenthewomanBryondandthesaidRifoel.

Itwasinthisdistrictthataninterviewtookplace,inApril,1808,betweenRifoelandacertainBoislaurier,aleaderknownbythenameofAugustinthebanefulrebellionsoftheWest,whoinstigatedtheaffairnowbeforethecourt.

Thesomewhatobscurepointoftherelationsbetweenthesetwoleadersisclearedupbythetestimonyofnumerouswitnesses,andalsobythejudgmentofthecourtwhichcondemnedRifoel.

From that time Boislaurier had an understanding with Rifoel, and theyactedinconcert.

They communicated to each other, at first secretly, their infamous plans,encouragedbytheabsenceofHisImperialandRoyalMajestywiththearmiesinSpain.TheirschemewastoobtainpossessionofthemoneyoftheTreasuryasthefundamentalbasisoffutureoperations.

Sometimeafter this,onenamedDubut,ofCaen,sentanemissary to thechateauofSaint-SavinnamedHiley—commonlycalled“TheLaborer,” longknownasahighwayman,arobberofdiligences—togiveinformationastothemenwhocouldsafelybereliedupon.

It was thus by means of Hiley that the plotters obtained, from thebeginning,theco-operationofoneHerbomez,otherwisecalledGeneralHardi,a former rebel of the same stamp as Rifoel, and like him faithless to hispledgesundertheamnesty.

Herbomez and Hiley recruited from the surrounding districts sevenbrigandswhosenamesare:—

1.JeanCibot,calledPille-Miche,oneoftheboldestbrigandsofthecorpsformedbyMontauranintheyearVII.,andaparticipatorintheattackuponthecourierofMortagneandhismurder.

2.FrancoisLisieux,calledGrand-Fils,refractoryofthedepartmentofthe

Mayenne.

3.CharlesGrenier,calledFleur-de-Genet,deserterfromthe69thbrigade.

4.GabrielBruce,calledGros-Jean,oneofthemostferociousChouansofFontaine’sdivision.

5.JacquesHoreau,calledStuart,ex-lieutenantinthesamebrigade,oneofthe confederates of Tinteniac, well-known for his participation in theexpeditiontoQuiberon.

6. Marie-Anne Cabot, called Lajeunesse, former huntsman to the SieurCarolofAlencon.

7.LouisMinard,refractory.

Theseconfederateswerelodgedinthreedifferentdistricts,inthehousesofthe following named persons: Binet, Melin, and Laraviniere, innkeepers orpublicans,andalldevotedtoRifoel.

ThenecessaryarmsweresuppliedbyoneJean-FrancoisLeveille,notary;an incorrigible assistant of the brigands, and their go-between with certainhidden leaders; also by one Felix Courceuil, commonly called Confesseur,former surgeon of the rebel armies of LaVendee; both thesemen are fromAlencon.

ElevenmusketswerehiddeninahousebelongingtotheSieurBryondinthefaubourgofAlencon,wheretheywereplacedwithouthisknowledge.

When the Sieur Bryond left his wife to pursue the fatal course she hadchosen, these muskets, mysteriously taken from the said house, weretransportedbythewomanBryondinherowncarriagetothechateauofSaint-Savin.

Itwasthenthat theactsofbrigandageinthedepartmentof theOrneandthe adjacent departments took place,—acts that amazed both the authoritiesandtheinhabitantsofthoseregions,whichhadlongbeenentirelypacificated;acts,moreover,whichprovedthattheseodiousenemiesofthegovernmentandthe French Empire were in the secret of the coalition of 1809 throughcommunicationwiththeroyalistpartyinforeigncountries.

The notary Leveille, the woman Bryond, Dubut of Caen, Herbomez ofMayenne, Boislaurier ofMans, and Rifoel, were therefore the heads of theassociation,whichwascomposedofcertainguiltypersonsalreadycondemnedtodeathandexecutedwithRifoel,certainotherswhoaretheaccusedpersonsatpresentundertrial,andanumbermorewhohaveescapedjustpunishmentbyflightorbythesilenceoftheiraccomplices.

ItwasDubutwho,livingnearCaen,notifiedthenotaryLeveillewhenthe

governmentmoneycontained in the local tax-officewouldbedespatched totheTreasury.

Wemust remark here that after the time of the removal of themuskets,Leveille,whowent to seeBruce,Grenier, andCibot in the house ofMelin,foundthemhidingthemusketsinashedonthepremises,andhimselfassistedintheoperation.

AgeneralrendezvouswasarrangedtotakeplaceatMortagne,inthehotelde l’Ecu de France. All the accused persons were present under variousdisguises. It was then that Leveille, the woman Bryond, Dubut, Herbomez,BoislaurierandHiley(theablestofthesecondaryaccomplices,asCibotwastheboldest)obtainedtheco-operationofoneVauthier,calledVieux-Chene,aformerservantof thefamousLonguy,andnowhostlerof thehotel.Vauthieragreed to notify the woman Bryond of the arrival and departure of thediligencebearingthegovernmentmoney,whichalwaysstoppedforatimeatthehotel.

The woman Bryond collected the scattered brigands at the chateau deSaint-Savin,afewmilesfromMortagne,whereshehadlivedwithhermothersincetheseparationfromherhusband.Thebrigands,withHileyattheirhead,stayed at the chateau for several days. ThewomanBryond, assisted by hermaidGodard,preparedwith her ownhands the foodof thesemen.Shehadalready filled a loft with hay, and there the provisionswere taken to them.While awaiting the arrival of the government money these brigands madenightly sorties fromSaint-Savin, and thewholeregionwasalarmedby theirdepredations.ThereisnodoubtthattheoutragescommittedatlaSartiniere,atVonay,andatthechateauofSaint-Seny,werecommittedbythisband,whoseboldness equals their criminality, though they were able to so terrify theirvictimsthatthelatterhavekeptsilence,andtheauthoritieshavebeenunabletoobtainanytestimonyfromthem.

While thusputtingunder contribution thosepersons in theneighborhoodwho had purchased lands of the National domain, these brigands carefullyexplored the forest of Chesnay which they selected as the theatre of theircrime.

NotfarfromthisforestisthevillageofLouvigney.AninniskepttherebythebrothersChaussard,formerlygame-keepersontheTroisvilleestate,whichinn was made the final rendezvous of the brigands. These brothers knewbeforehandtheparttheyweretoplayintheaffair.CourceuilandBoislaurierhadlongmadeoverturestothemtorevivetheirhatredagainstthegovernmentofouraugustEmperor,tellingthemthatamongtheguestswhowouldbesenttothemwouldbecertainmenoftheiracquaintance,thedreadedHileyandthenotlessdreadedCibot.

Accordingly,onthe6th,thesevenbandits,underHiley,arrivedattheinnofthebrothersChaussard,andtheretheyspenttwodays.Onthe8thHileyledoffhismen,sayingtheyweregoingtoapalaceaboutninemilesdistant,andaskingthebrotherstosendprovisionsforthemtoacertainforkintheroadnotfardistantfromthevillage.Hileyhimselfreturnedandsleptattheinn.

Twopersonsonhorseback,whowereundoubtedlyRifoelandthewomanBryond (for it is stated that this woman accompanied Rifoel on theseexpeditionsonhorsebackanddressedas aman), arrivedduring the eveningandconversedwithHiley.

ThenextdayHileywrotealettertothenotaryLeveille,whichoneoftheChaussardbrotherstooktothelatter,bringingbackhisanswer.

Two hours later Rifoel and the woman Bryond returned and had aninterviewwithHiley.

Itwasthenfoundnecessarytoobtainanaxetoopen,asweshallsee,thecases containing the money. The notary went with the woman Bryond toSaint-Savin, where they searched in vain for an axe. The notary returnedalone; half way back he met Hiley, to whom he stated that they could notobtainanaxe.

Hileyreturnedtotheinn,whereheorderedsupperfortenpersons;sevenof thembeingthebrigands,whohadnowreturned,fullyarmed.Hileymadethemstacktheirarmsinthemilitarymanner.Theythensatdowntotableandsupped in haste. Hiley ordered provisions prepared to take away with him.Then he took the elder Chaussard aside and asked him for an axe. Theinnkeeperwho,ifwebelievehim,wassurprised,refusedtogiveone.

CourceuilandBoislaurierarrived;thenightworeon;thethreemenwalkedtheflooroftheirroomdiscussingtheplot.Courceuil,called“Confesseur,”themostwilyoftheparty,obtainedanaxe;andabouttwointhemorningtheyallwentawaybydifferentpaths.

Everymomentwasofvalue;theexecutionofthecrimewasfixedforthatnight.Hiley,Courceuil,andBoislaurierledandplacedtheirmen.Hileyhidinambush withMinard, Cabot, and Bruce at the right of the Chesnay forest;Boislaurier,Grenier, andHoreau took the centre;Courceuil,Herbomez, andLisieux occupied the ravine to the left of thewood.All these positions areindicatedontheground-plandrawnbytheengineerofthegovernmentsurvey-office,whichisheresubjoined.

The diligence, which had left Mortagne about one in the morning, wasdrivenbyoneRousseau,whoseconductproved so suspicious thathis arrestwas judged necessary. The vehicle, driven slowly, would arrive about threeo’clockintheforestofChesnay.

A single gendarme accompanied the diligence, which would stop forbreakfastatDonnery.Threepassengersonlyweremaking the trip,andwerenowwalkingupthehillwiththegendarme.

The driver,who had driven very slowly to the bridge ofChesnay at theentrance of the wood, now hastened his horses with a vigor and eagernessremarkedby thepassengers, and turned intoacross-road, called the roadofSenzey.Thecarriagewas thusoutofsight;and thegendarmewith the threeyoungmenwerehurryingtoovertakeitwhentheyheardashout:“Halt!”andfourshotswerefiredatthem.

Thegendarme,whowasnothit,drewhissabreandrushedinthedirectionof the vehicle. He was stopped by four armed men, who fired at him; hiseagernesssavedhim,forherantowardoneofthethreepassengerstotellhimtomakeforChesnayandringthetocsin.Buttwobrigandsfollowedhim,andoneofthem,takingaim,sentaballthroughhisleftshoulder,whichbrokehisarm,andhefellhelpless.

The shouts and firingwere heard inDonnery.A corporal stationed thereandonegendarmerantowardthesounds.Thefiringofasquadofmentookthem to the opposite side of thewood to thatwhere the pillagewas takingplace.Thenoiseofthefiringpreventedthecorporalfromhearingthecriesofthewoundedgendarme;buthediddistinguishasoundwhichprovedtobethatofanaxebreakingandchoppingintocases.Herantowardthesound.Meetingfourarmedbandits,hecalledouttothem,“Surrender,villains!”

Theyreplied:“Staywhereyouare,oryouareadeadman!”Thecorporalsprangforward;twoshotswerefiredandonestruckhim;aballwentthroughhis left legand into the flankofhishorse.Thebraveman,bathed inblood,wasforcedtogiveuptheunequalfight;heshouted“Help!thebrigandsareatChesnay!”butallinvain.

Therobbers,mastersofthegroundthankstotheirnumbers,ransackedthecoach.Theyhadgaggedandboundthedriverbywayofdeception.Thecaseswere opened, the bags of money were thrown out; the horses wereunharnessed and the silver and gold loaded on their backs. Three thousandfrancs in copperwere rejected; but a sum in other coin of one hundred andthreethousandfrancswassafelycarriedoffonthefourhorses.

ThebrigandstooktheroadtothehamletofMenneville,whichisclosetoSaint-Savin.TheystoppedwiththeirplunderatanisolatedhousebelongingtotheChaussardbrothers,wheretheChaussards’uncle,oneBourget,lived,whowasknowingtothewholeplotfromitsinception.Thisoldman,aidedbyhiswife,welcomed the brigands, charged them tomake no noise, unloaded thebagsofmoney,andgavethemensomethingtodrink.Thewifeperformedthepartofsentinel.Theoldmanthentookthehorsesthroughthewood,returned

themtothedriver,unboundthelatter,andalsotheyoungmen,whohadbeengarotted.Afterrestingforatime,Courceuil,Hiley,andBoislaurierpaidtheirmenapaltrysumfor their trouble,andthewholebanddeparted, leavingtheplunderinchargeofBourget.

When they reacheda lonelyplacecalledChamp-Landry, thesecriminals,obeying the impulse which leads all malefactors into the blunders andmiscalculationsofcrime,threwtheirgunsintoawheat-field.Thisaction,donebyallofthem,isaproofoftheirmutualunderstanding.Struckwithterrorattheboldnessoftheiract,andevenbyitssuccess,theydispersed.

The robberynowhavingbeencommitted,with theadditional featuresofassault and assassination, other facts and other actors appear, all connectedwiththerobberyitselfandwiththedispositionoftheplunder.

Rifoel, concealed in Paris, whence he pulled every wire of the plot,transmitstoLeveilleanordertosendhiminstantlyfiftythousandfrancs.

Courceuil, knowing to all the facts, sends Hiley to tell Leveille of thesuccess of the attempt, and say that hewillmeet himatMortagne.Leveillegoesthere.

Vauthier, on whose fidelity they think they can rely, agrees to go toBourget, theuncleoftheChaussards,inwhosecarethemoneywasleft,andaskforthebooty.TheoldmantellsVauthierthathemustgotohisnephews,whohavetakenlargesumstothewomanBryond.Butheordershimtowaitoutsideintheroad,andbringshimabagcontainingthesmallsumoftwelvehundred francs, which Vauthier delivers to the woman Lechantre for herdaughter.

AtLeveille’srequest,VauthierreturnstoBourget,whothistimesendsforhis nephews.The elderChaussard takesVauthier to thewood, showshim atree, and there they find a bag of one thousand francs buried in the earth.Leveille, Hiley, and Vauthier make other trips, obtaining only trifling sumscomparedwiththelargesumknowntohavebeencaptured.

ThewomanLechantrereceivesthesesumsatMortagne;and,onreceiptofa letter from her daughter, removes them to Saint-Savin, where thewomanBryondnowreturns.

ThisisnotthemomenttoexamineastowhetherthewomanLechantrehadanyanteriorknowledgeoftheplot.

ItsufficesheretonotethatthiswomanleftMortagnetogotoSaint-Savintheeveningbeforethecrime;thatafterthecrimeshemetherdaughteronthehigh-road, and they both returned to Mortagne; that on the following dayLeveille,informedbyHileyofthesuccessoftheplot,goesfromAlenconto

Mortagne,andtherevisitsthetwowomen;laterhepersuadesthemtodepositthesumsobtainedwithsuchdifficultyfromtheChaussardsandBourgetinahouse in Alencon, of which we shall speak presently,—that of the SieurPannier,merchant.

ThewomanLechantrewritestothebailiffatSaint-Savintocomeanddriveherandherdaughterbythecross-roadstowardsAlencon.

Thefundsnowintheirpossessionamounttotwentythousandfrancs;thesethegirlGodardputsintothecarriageatnight.

The notary Leveille had given exact instructions. The twowomen reachAlenconandstopatthehouseofaconfederate,oneLouisChargegrain,intheLittray district.Despite all the precautions of the notary,who came there tomeetthewomen,witnesseswereathandwhosawtheportmanteauxandbagscontainingthemoneytakenfromthecarriole.

At the moment when Courceuil and Hiley, disguised as women, wereconsulting in the square atAlenconwith the Sieur Pannier (treasurer of therebelssince1794,anddevotedtoRifoel)astothebestmeansofconveyingtoRifoelthesumheaskedfor,thewomanLechantrebecamealarmedonhearingattheinnwhereshestoppedofthesuspicionsandarrestsalreadymade.Shefled during the night, taking her daughterwith her through the byways andcross-roads to Saint-Savin, in order to take refuge, if necessary, in certainhiding-places prepared at the chateaudeSaint-Savin.Courceuil,Boislaurier,and his relationDubut, clandestinely changed two thousand francs in silvermoneyforgold,andfledtoBrittanyandEngland.

OnarrivingatSaint-Savin,thewomenLechantreandBryondheardofthearrest of Bourget, that of the driver of the diligence, and that of the tworefractories.

Themagistrates and the gendarmerie struck such sure blows that it wasthought advisable to place the woman Bryond beyond the reach of humanjustice;forsheappearstohavebeenanobjectofgreatdevotiononthepartofthese criminals, whowere captivated by her. She left Saint-Savin, and washiddenatfirstinAlencon,whereherfollowersdeliberated,andfinallyplacedherinthecellarofPannier’shouse.

Herenewincidentsdevelopthemselves.

AfterthearrestofBourgetandhiswife,theChaussardsrefusetogiveupany more of the money, declaring themselves betrayed. This unexpectedrefusalwasgivenatamomentwhenanurgentwantofmoneywasfeltamongthe accomplices, if only for the purposes of escape. Rifoel was alwaysclamorous for money. Hiley, Cibot, and Leveille began to suspect theChaussards.

Herecomesinanewincident,whichcallsfortherigorofthelaw.

Two gendarmes, detailed to discover the woman Bryond, succeeded intrackinghertoPannier’s.Thereadiscussionisheld;andthesemen,unworthyofthetrustreposedinthem,insteadofarrestingthewomanBryond,succumbtoherseductions.Theseunworthysoldiers,namedRatelandMallet,showedthiswomantheutmostinterestandofferedtotakehertotheChaussardsandforcethemtomakerestitution.

ThewomanBryondstartsonhorseback,disguisedasaman,accompaniedbyRatel,Mallet,andthegirlGodard.Shemakesthejourneybynight.ShehasaconferencealonewithoneofthebrothersChaussard,anexcitedconference.She is armed with a pistol, and threatens to blow out the brains of heraccompliceifherefusesthemoney.Thenhegoeswithherintotheforest,andtheyreturnwithaheavybagofcoin.Inthebagarecoppercoinsandtwelve-soussilverpiecestotheamountoffifteenhundredfrancs.

When thewomanBryond returns toAlencon theaccomplicespropose togoinabodyto theChaussards’houseandtorture themuntil theydeliverupthewholesum.

WhenPannierhearsofthisfailureheisfurious.Hethreatens.ThewomanBryond,thoughthreateninghiminreturnwithRifoel’swrath,isforcedtofly.

ThesefactsrestontheconfessionofRatel.

Mallet,pitying thewomanBryond’sposition,offersheranasylum.ThenMalletandRatel,accompaniedbyHileyandCibot,goatnighttothebrothersChaussard; this time they find these brothers have left the place and havetakentherestofthemoneywiththem.

Thiswasthelasteffortof theaccomplices torecover theproceedsof therobbery.

It now becomes necessary to show the exact part taken by each of theactorsinthiscrime.

Dubut,Boislaurier,Herbomez,Courceuil,andHileyweretheringleaders.Somedeliberatedandplanned,othersacted.

Boislaurier, Dubut, and Courceuil, all three fugitives from justice andoutlawed,areaddictedtorebellion,fomentersoftrouble,implacableenemiesofNapoleontheGreat,hisvictories,hisdynasty,andhisgovernment,hatersofournewlawsandoftheconstitutionoftheEmpire.

Herbomez and Hiley audaciously executed that which the three formerplanned.

The guilt of the seven instruments of the crime, namely, Cibot, Lisieux,

Grenier, Bruce, Horeau, Cabot, andMinard, is evident; it appears from theconfessionsofthoseofthemwhoarenowinthehandsofjustice;Lisieuxdiedduringtheinvestigation,andBrucehasfledthecountry.

The conduct of Rousseau, who drove the coach, marks him as anaccomplice.Hisslowmethodofdriving,hishasteattheentranceofthewood,his persistent declaration that his headwas covered,whereas the passengerstestifythattheleaderofthebrigandstoldhimtotakethehandkerchiefoffhishead and recognize them; all these facts are strongpresumptive evidenceofcollusion.

AsforthewomanBryondandthenotaryLeveille,couldanyco-operationbemore connected,more continuous than theirs?They repeatedly furnishedmeans for the crime; they were privy to it, and they abetted it. Leveilletravelled constantly.ThewomanBryond invented scheme after scheme; sherisked all, even her life, to recover the plunder. She lent her house, hercarriage;herhandisseenintheplotfromthebeginning;shedidnotdissuadethe chief leader of all, Rifoel, since executed, although through her guiltyinfluenceuponhimshemighthavedoneso.Shemadeherwaiting-woman,thegirl Godard, an accomplice. As for Leveille, he took an active part in theactualperpetrationofthecrimebyseekingtheaxethebrigandsaskedfor.

The woman Bourget, Vauthier, the Chaussards, Pannier, the womanLechantre, Mallet and Ratel, all participated in the crime in their severaldegrees,asdidtheinnkeepersMelin,Binet,Laraviniere,andChargegrain.

Bourgethasdiedduringtheinvestigation,aftermakingaconfessionwhichremovesalldoubtastothepartplayedbyVauthierandthewomanBryond;ifhe attempted to extenuate that of his wife and his nephews Chaussard, hismotivesareeasytounderstand.

The Chaussards knowingly fed and lodged the brigands, they saw themarmed,theywitnessedalltheirarrangementsandknewtheobjectofthem;andlastly,theyreceivedtheplunder,whichtheyhid,andasitappears,stolefromtheiraccomplices.

Pannier,theformertreasureroftherebels,concealedthewomanBryondinhishouse;heisoneofthemostdangerousaccomplicesofthiscrime,whichheknew from its inception. In him certainmysterious relationswhich are stillobscure took their rise; the authorities now have these matters underinvestigation. Pannier was the right hand of Rifoel, the depositary of thesecretsofthecounter-revolutionarypartyoftheWest;heregrettedthatRifoelintroducedwomenintotheplotandconfidedinthem;itwashewhoreceivedthestolenmoneyfromthewomanBryondandconveyedittoRifoel.

AsfortheconductofthetwogendarmesRatelandMallet,itdeservesthe

severestpenaltyofthelaw.Theybetrayedtheirduty.Oneofthem,foreseeinghis fate,committedsuicide,butnotuntilhehadmade important revelations.The other, Mallet, denies nothing, his tacit admissions preclude all doubt,especiallyastotheguiltofthewomanBryond.

ThewomanLechantre, in spite of her constant denials,was privy to all.Thehypocrisyofthiswoman,whoattemptstoshelterherassumedinnocenceunder the mask of a false piety, has certain antecedents which prove herdecisionofcharacterandherintrepidityinextremecases.Sheallegesthatshewasmisledbyherdaughter,andbelievedthattheplunderedmoneybelongedto theSieurBryond,—acommonexcuse! If theSieurBryondhadpossessedanyproperty,hewouldnothaveleft thedepartmentonaccountofhisdebts.The woman Lechantre claims that she did not suspect a shameful theft,becauseshe saw theproceedingsapprovedbyher ally,Boislaurier.ButhowdoessheexplainthepresenceofRifoel(alreadyexecuted)atSaint-Savin;thejourneystoandfro;therelationsofthatyoungmanwithherdaughter;thestayofthebrigandsatSaint-Savin,wheretheywereservedbyherdaughterandthegirlGodard?Shealleges sleep;declares it tobeherpractice togo tobed atsevenintheevening;andhasnoanswertomakewhenthemagistratepointsouttoherthatifsherises,asshesaysshedoes,atdawn,shemusthaveseensomesignsoftheplot,ofthesojournofsomanypersons,andofthenocturnalgoingsandcomingsofherdaughter.Tothissherepliesthatshewasoccupiedinprayer.Thiswomanisamassofhypocrisy.Lastly,herjourneyonthedayofthecrime, thecareshe takes tocarryherdaughter toMortagne,herconductaboutthemoney,herprecipitateflightwhenallisdiscovered,thepainssheisat toconceal herself, even the circumstancesof her arrest, all go toprove along-existingcomplicity.Shehasnotactedlikeamotherwhodesirestosaveherdaughterandwithdrawherfromdanger,butlikeatremblingaccomplice.Andhercomplicityisnotthatofamisguidedtenderness;itisthefruitofpartyspirit, the inspiration of awell-known hatred against the government ofHisImperialandRoyalMajesty.Misguidedmaternal tenderness, if thatcouldbefairlyallegedinherdefence,wouldnot,however,excuseit;andwemustnotforgetthatconsentment,long-standingandpremeditated, is thesurestsignofguilt.

Thusalltheelementsofthecrimeandthepersonscommittingitarefullybroughttolight.

Wesee themadnessoffactioncombiningwithpillageandgreed;weseeassassination advised by party spirit, under whose aegis these criminalsattempttojustifythemselvesforthebasestcrimes.Theleadersgivethesignalfor the pillage of the public money, which money is to be used for theirulteriorcrimes;vilestipendiariesdothisworkforapaltryprice,notrecoilingfrommurder;thenthefomentersofrebellion,notlessguiltybecausetheirown

handshaveneither robbednormurdered,divide thebootyanddisposeof it.What community can tolerate such outrages? The law itself is scarcelyrigorousenoughtodulypunishthem.

ItisupontheabovefactsthatthisCourtofCriminalandSpecialJusticeiscalledupontodecidewhethertheprisonersHerbomez,Hiley,Cibot,Grenier,Horeau, Cabot, Minard, Melin, Binet, Laraviniere, Rousseau, the womanBryond,Leveille,thewomanBourget,Vauthier,Chaussardtheelder,Pannier,thewidowLechantre,Mallet, allhereinnamedanddescribed, andarraignedbefore this court; also Boislaurier, Dubut, Courceuil, Bruce, the youngerChaussard,Chargegrain, and thegirlGodard,—these latter being absent andfugitives from justice,—are or are not guilty of the crimes charged in thisindictment.

DoneatCaen,this1stofDecember,180-.

(Signed)BaronBourlac,Attorney-General.

X.PRAYFORTHOSEWHODESPITEFULLYUSEYOUANDPERSECUTEYOU

Thislegalpaper,muchshorterandmoreimperativethansuchindictmentsarethesedays,whentheyarefarmoredetailedandmoreprecise,especiallyasto the antecedent life of accused persons, affected Godefroid deeply. Thedryness of the statement in which the official pen narrated in red ink theprincipal details of the affair stirred his imagination. Concise, abbreviatednarrativesaretosomemindstextsintothehiddenmeaningofwhichtheylovetoburrow.

In themiddle of the night, aided by the silence, by the darkness, by theterrible relation intimated by the worthy Alain between the facts of thatdocumentandMadamedelaChanterie,Godefroidappliedalltheforcesofhisintellecttodecipherthedreadfultheme.

Evidently the nameLechantre stood for laChanterie; in all probably thearistocracy of the name was intentionally thus concealed during theRevolutionandundertheEmpire.

Godefroid saw, in imagination, the landscape and the scenes where thisdramahadtakenplace.Theformsandfacesoftheaccomplicespassedbeforehiseyes.Hepicturedtohimselfnot“oneRifoel”butaChevalierduVissard,ayoungmansomethinglike theFergusofWalterScott,aFrenchJacobite.Hedeveloped the romance of an ardent young girl grossly deceived by aninfamous husband (a style of romance then much the fashion); loving the

young and gallant leader of a rebellion against the Empire; giving herself,bodyand soul, likeanotherDianaVernon, to the conspiracy, and then,oncelaunched on that fatal incline, unable to stop herself. Had she rolled to thescaffold?

Theyoungmansawinhisownmindawholeworld,andhepeopledit.Hewandered in theshadeof thoseNormangroves;hesaw theBretonheroandMadameBryondamongthegorseandshrubbery;heinhabitedtheoldchateauof Saint-Savin; he shared in the diverse acts of all thosemany personages,picturing to himself the notary, themerchant, and those bold Chouans. Hismindconceivedthestateofthatwildcountrywherelingeredstillthememoryof the Comtes de Bauvan, de Longuy, the exploits of Marche-a-Terre, themassacreatLaVivetiere, thedeathof theMarquisdeMontauran—ofwhoseprowessMadamedelaChanteriehadtoldhim.

This sort of vision of things, of men, of places was rapid. When heremembered that this drama must relate to the dignified, noble, deeplyreligiousoldwomanwhosevirtuewasactinguponhimsopowerfullyastobeupon thepointofmetamorphosinghim,Godefroidwasseizedwithasortofterror,and turnedhastily to theseconddocumentwhichMonsieurAlainhadgivenhim.Thiswasentitled:—

SummaryonbehalfofMadameHenrietteBryonddesTours-Minieres,neeLechantredelaChanterie.

“Nolongeranydoubt!”murmuredGodefroid.

We are condemned and guilty; but if ever the Sovereign had reason toexercisehisrightofclemencyitissurelyinacaselikethis.

Here is a young woman, about to become a mother, and condemned todeath.

Fromaprisoncell,with the scaffoldbeforeher, thiswomanwill tell thetruth.

ThetrialbeforetheCriminalCourtofAlenconhad,asinallcaseswheretherearemanyaccusedpersonsinaconspiracyinspiredbyparty-spirit,certainportionswhichwereseriouslyobscure.

TheChancellor ofHis Imperial andRoyalMajesty knowsnow the truthabout themysteriouspersonagenamedLeMarchand,whosepresence in thedepartmentoftheOrnewasnotdeniedbythegovernmentduringthetrial,butwhomtheprosecutiondidnot thinkproper tocallaswitness,andwhomthedefencehadneitherthepowernortheopportunitytofind.

Thatpersonage is, as theprosecutingofficer, thepoliceofParis, and theChancellorofHisImperialandRoyalMajestywellknow,theSieurBernard-

Polydor Bryond des Tours-Minieres, the correspondent, since 1794, of theComtedeLille,—knownelsewhereas theBarondesTours-Minieres,andonrecordsoftheParisianpoliceunderthenameofContenson.

He is notorious. His youth and name were degraded by vices soimperative,animmoralitysoprofound,conductsocriminal,thathisinfamouslifemusthaveendedonthescaffoldifhehadnotpossessedtheabilitytoplayadoublepart, as indicatedbyhisnames.Hereafter,ashispassions rulehimmoreandmore,hewillendbyfallingtothedepthsofinfamyinspiteofhisincontestableabilityandaremarkablemind.

When the Comte de Lille became aware of this man’s character he nolonger permitted him to take part in the royalist councils or to handle themoneysent toFrance;hethuslost theresourcesderivedfromthesemasters,whoseservicehadbeenprofitabletohim.

Itwasthenthathereturnedtohiscountryhome,crippledwithdebt.

HistraitorousconnectionwiththeintriguesofEnglandandtheComtedeLille,wonhim theconfidenceof theold familiesattached to the causenowvanquishedbythegeniusofour immortalEmperor.He theremetoneof theformer leaders of the rebellion,withwhom at the time of the expedition toQuberon,andlater,atthetimeofthelastuprisingoftheChouans,hehadheldcertainrelationsasanenvoyfromEngland.Heencouragedtheschemesofthisyoungagitator,Rifoel,whohassincepaidwithhislifeonthescaffoldforhisplotsagainsttheState.ThroughhimBryondwasabletopenetrateoncemoreintothesecretsofthatpartywhichhasmisunderstoodboththegloryofH.M.the Emperor Napoleon I. and the true interests of the nation united in hisaugustperson.

Attheageofthirty-five,thisman,thenknownunderhistruenameofdesTours-Minieres,affectingasincerepiety,professingtheutmostdevotiontotheinterests of the Comte de Lille and a reverence for the memory of theinsurgentswho lost their lives at theWest, disguisingwith great ability thesecrets of his exhausted youth, and powerfully protected by the silence ofcreditors,andbythespiritofcastewhichexistsamongallcountryci-devants,—this man, truly a whited sepulchre, was introduced, as possessing everyclaim for consideration, toMadameLechantre,whowas supposed tobe thepossessorofalargefortune.

AllpartiesconspiredtopromoteamarriagebetweentheyoungHenriette,only daughter of Madame Lechantre, and this protege of the ci-devants.Priests,nobles,creditors,eachwithadifferentinterest,loyalinsome,selfishinothers,blindforthemostpart,allunitedinfurtheringtheunionofBernardBryonddesTours-MiniereswithHenrietteLechantre.

The good sense of the notary who had charge of Madame Lechantre’saffairs, andperhapshisdistrust,were theactual causeof thedisasterof thisyoung girl. The Sieur Chesnel, notary at Alencon, put the estate of Saint-Savin, the sole propertyof thebride, under thedower system, reserving therightofhabitationandamodestincometothemother.

Thecreditors,whosupposed,fromMadameLechantre’sorderlyandfrugalwayofliving,thatshehadcapitallaidby,weredeceivedintheirexpectations,andtheythenbegansuitswhichrevealedtheprecariousfinancialconditionofBryond.

Serious differences now arose between the newly married pair, and theyoung wife had occasion to know the depraved habits, the political andreligiousatheismand—shallIsaytheword?—theinfamyofthemantowhomherlifehadbeensofatallyunited.Bryond,forcedtolethiswifeintothesecretoftheroyalistplots,gaveahomeinhishousetotheirchiefagent,RifoelduVissard.

ThecharacterofRifoel,adventurous,brave,generous,exercisedacharmon allwho came in contactwith him, aswas abundantly proved during histrialsbeforethreesuccessivecriminalcourts.

Theirresistibleinfluence,theabsoluteempireheacquiredoverthemindofa young woman who saw herself suddenly cast into the abyss of a fatalmarriage, is but too visible in this catastrophe which now brings her asuppliant to the foot of the Throne. But that which the Chancellor of HisImperialandRoyalMajestycaneasilyverifyistheinfamousencouragementgiven byBryond to this intimacy. Far from fulfilling his duty as guide andcounsellor toachildwhosepoordeceivedmotherhadtrustedher tohim,hetookpleasureindrawingcloserstillthebondsthatunitedtheyoungHenriettetotherebelleader.

Theplanofthisodiousbeing,whotakesprideindespisingallthingsandconsiders nothing but the satisfaction of his passions, admitting none of therestraintsimposedbycivilorreligiousmorality,wasasfollows:—

Wemust first remark, however, that suchplottingwas familiar to amanwho,eversince1794hasplayedadoublepart,whoforeightyearsdeceivedtheComtedeLilleandhisadherents,andprobablydeceivedatthesametimethepoliceoftheRepublicandtheEmpire:suchmenbelongonlytothosewhopaythemmost.

Bryond pushed Rifoel to crime; he instigated the attacks of armed menuponthemail-coachesbearingthemoneysofthegovernment,andthelevyingof a heavy tribute from the purchasers of the National domain; a tax heenforcedbymeansof tortures inventedbyhimwhich carried terror through

five departments. He then demanded that a sum of three hundred thousandfrancsderivedfromtheseplunderingsbepaidtohimfortheliquidationofhisdebts.

Whenhemetwithresistanceon thepartofhiswifeandRifoel,andsawthe contempt his proposal inspired in upright minds who were acting onlyfrompartyspirit,hedeterminedtobringthembothundertherigorofthelawinthenextoccasionoftheircommittingacrime.

Hedisappeared,andreturnedtoParis,takingwithhimallinformationastothethenconditionofthedepartmentsoftheWest.

The brothers Chaussard and Vauthier were, as the chancellor knows,Bryond’scorrespondents.

As soon as the attack was made on the diligence from Caen, Bryondreturned secretly and in disguise, under the name of LeMarchand. He puthimselfintosecretcommunicationwiththeprefectandthemagistrates.Whatwastheresult?Neverwasanyconspiracy,inwhichagreatnumberofpersonstook part, so rapidly discovered and dealt with. Within six days after thecommittalofthecrimealltheguiltypersonswerefollowedandwatchedwithanintelligencewhichshowedthemostaccurateknowledgeof theplans,andof the individuals concerned in them. The immediate arrest, trial, andexecutionofRifoelandhisaccomplicesare theproofof this.Werepeat, thechancellorknowsevenmorethanwedoonthissubject.

IfeveracondemnedpersonhadarighttoappealtotheSovereign’smercyitisHenrietteLechantre.

Thoughledastraybylove,byideasofrebellionwhichshesuckedinwiththemilkthatfedher,sheis,mostcertainly,inexcusableintheeyesofthelaw;but in the eyes of the most magnanimous of emperors, will not hermisfortunes, the infamous betrayal of her husband, and a rash enthusiasmpleadforher?

The greatest of all captains, the immortal genius which pardoned thePrinceofHatzfeldtandisabletodivinethereasonsof theheart,willhenotadmitthefatalpoweroflove,invincibleinyouth,whichextenuatesthiscrime,greatasitwas?

Twenty-twoheadshavefallenunderthebladeofthelaw;onlyoneoftheguilty persons is now left, and she is a youngwoman, aminor, not twentyyearsofage.WillnottheEmperorNapoleontheGreatgrantherlife,andgivehertimeinwhichtorepent?IsnotthattosharethepartofGod?

ForHenrietteLechantre,wifeofBryonddesTour-Minieres,—

Herdefender,Bordin,Barristerof theLowerCourtof theDepartmentof

theSeine.

This dreadful drama disturbed the little sleep that Godefroid took. Hedreamedof thatpenaltyofdeathsuchas thephysicianGuillotinhasmade itwithaphilanthropicobject.Throughthehotvaporsofanightmarehesawayoungwoman,beautiful,enthusiastic,enduringthelastpreparations,drawninthatfataltumbril,mountingthescaffold,andcryingout,“Viveleroi!”

Eagertoknowthewhole,Godefroidroseatdawn,dressed,andpacedhisroom; then stood mechanically at his window gazing at the sky, while histhoughts reconstructed thisdrama inmanyvolumes.Ever, on that darksomebackgroundofChouans,peasants,countrygentlemen,rebelleaders,spies,andofficers of justice, he saw the vivid figures of themother and the daughterdetachthemselves;thedaughtermisleadingthemother;thedaughtervictimofamonster;victim,too,ofherpassionforoneofthoseboldmenwhom,later,wehaveglorifiedasheroes,andtowhomevenGodefroid’simaginationlentalikeness to the Charettes and the Georges Cadoudals,—those giants of thestrugglebetweentheRepublicandtheMonarchy.

AssoonasGodefroidheardthegoodmanAlainstirringintheroomabovehim,hewentthere;buthehadnosooneropenedthedoorthanhecloseditandwent back to his own apartment. The old man, kneeling by his chair, wassaying his morning prayer. The sight of that whitened head, bowed in anattitudeofhumblereverence,remindedGodefroidofhisownforgottenduties,andheprayedfervently.

“Iexpectedyou,”saidthekindoldman,whenGodefroidenteredhisroomsome fifteen minutes later. “I got up earlier than usual, for I felt sure youwouldbeimpatient.”

“MadameHenriette?”askedGodefroid,withvisibleanxiety.

“WasMadame’s daughter!” repliedMonsieurAlain. “Madame’s name isLechantredelaChanterie.UndertheEmpirenoneofthenobiliarytitleswereallowed, nor any of the names added to the patronymic or original names.Therefore, theBaronnedesTours-MiniereswascalledMadameBryond.TheMarquis d’Esgrignon took his name of Carol (citizen Carol); later he wascalledtheSieurCarol.TheTroisvillesbecametheSieursGuibelin.”

“Butwhathappened?DidtheEmperorpardonher?”

“Alas,no!” repliedAlain.“Theunfortunate littlewoman,not twenty-oneyearsold,perishedonthescaffold.AfterreadingBordin’sappeal,theEmperoransweredverymuchintheseterms:‘Whybesobitteragainstthespy?Aspyis no longer a man; he ought not to have feelings; he is a wheel of themachinery;Bryonddidhisduty.Ifinstrumentsofthatkindwerenotwhattheyare,—steelbars,—andintelligentonly in theserviceof thepoweremploying

them, government would not be possible. The sentences of criminal courtsmust be carried out, or the judges would cease to have confidence inthemselvesor inme.Besides, thewomenof theWestmustbe taughtnot tomeddleinplots.Itispreciselyinthecaseofawomanthatjusticeshouldnotbeinterferedwith.Thereisnoexcusepossibleforanattackonpower?’Thiswas the substance of what the Emperor said, as Bordin repeated it to me.Learning a little later thatFrance andRussiawere about tomeasure swordsagainsteachother,andthat theEmperorwastogotwothousandmilesfromParistoattackavastanddesertcountry,Bordinunderstoodthesecretreasonof the Emperor’s harshness. To insure tranquillity at theWest, now full ofrefractories,Napoleonbelieveditnecessarytoinspireterror.Bordincoulddonomore.”

“ButMadamedelaChanterie?”saidGodefroid.

“Madamede laChanteriewassentencedto twentyyears’ imprisonment,”replied Alain. “As she was already transferred to Bicetre, near Rouen, toundergo her punishment, nothing was attempted on her behalf until everyefforthadbeenmadetosaveHenriette,whohadgrowndearerthanevertohermother during this time of anxiety. Indeed, if it had not been for Bordin’sassurance that he could obtainHenriette’s pardon, it is doubtful ifMadamecouldhavesurvived theshockof thesentence.When theappeal failed, theydeceivedthepoormother.Shesawherdaughteronceaftertheexecutionoftheotherprisoners,notknowingthatMadameBryond’srespitewasduetoafalsedeclarationofpregnancy,madetogaintimefortheappeal.”

“Ah!Iunderstanditallnow,”exclaimedGodefroid.

“No, my dear child, there are things that no one can imagine.Madamethoughtherdaughterlivingforalongtime.”

“Howwasthat?”

“WhenMadamedesTours-Minieres learned fromBordin thather appealwasrejectedandthatnothingcouldsaveher,thatsublimelittlewomanhadthecouragetowritetwentyletters,datingthemmonthbymonthafterthetimeofher execution, so as tomakeher poormother in her prisonbelieve shewasalive.Inthoselettersshetoldofagradualillnesswhichwouldendindeath.Theycovered aperiodof twoyears.Madamede laChanteriewas thereforepreparedforthenewsofherdaughter’sdeath,butshethoughtitanaturalone.Shedidnotknowuntil1814thatHenriettehaddiedonthescaffold.FortwoyearsMadamewasherdedamongthemostdepravedofhersex,butthankstothe urgency of the Champignelles and the Beauseants she was, after thesecondyear,placedinacellbyherself,whereshelivedlikeacloisterednun.”

“Andtheothers?”askedGodefroid.

“The notary Leveille, Herbomez, Hiley, Cibot, Grenier, Horeau, Cabot,Minard, andMallet were condemned to death, and executed the same day.Pannier,condemned tohard labor for twentyyears,wasbrandedandsent tothegalleys.TheChaussardsandVauthierreceivedthesamesentence,butwerepardonedby theEmperor.Melin,LaraviniereandBinet,werecondemned tofiveyears’imprisonment.ThewomanBourgettotwentyyears’imprisonment.Chargegrain and Rousseau were acquitted. Those who escaped were allcondemned todeath,except thegirlGodard,whowasnoother,asyouhaveprobablyguessed,thanourpoorManon—”

“Manon!”exclaimedGodefroid.

“Oh! you don’t know Manon yet,” replied the kind old Alain. “Thatdevotedcreature,condemnedto twelveyears’ imprisonment,gaveherselfupthatshemight takecareofMadamedelaChanterie,andwaituponher.Ourdear vicar was the priest at Mortagne who gave the last sacraments to theBaronnedesTours-Minieres;hehadthecouragetogowithhertothescaffold,andtohimshegaveherfarewellkiss.Thatcourageous,noblepriesthadalsoaccompaniedtheChevalierduVissard.OurdearAbbedeVezehasthereforeknownallthesecretsofthosedays.”

“Iseewhyhishairissowhite,”saidGodefroid.

“Alas!yes,”saidAlain.“HereceivedfromAmedeeduVissardaminiatureofMadamedesTours-Minieres,theonlyportraitofherthatexists;therefore,theabbebecamealmostsacredinMadamedelaChanterie’seyeswhenshere-enteredsocialexistence.”

“Whendidthathappen?”askedGodefroid.

“Why,attherestorationofLouisXVIII.,in1814.TheMarquisduVissard,eldest brother of theChevalier,was created peer of France and loadedwithhonorsbytheking.ThebrotherofMonsieurd’Herbomezwasmadeacountand receiver-general. The poor banker Pannier died of grief at the galleys.Boislaurierdiedwithoutchildren,alieutenant-generalandgovernorofaroyalchateau.MessieursdeChampignelles,deBeauseant,theDucdeVerneuil,andtheKeeperof theSealspresentedMadamedelaChanterie to theking.‘Youhavesufferedgreatlyforme,madamelabaronne;youhaveeveryrighttomyfavorandgratitude,’he said toher. ‘Sire,’ she replied, ‘yourMajestyhas somanysorrowstoconsolethatIdonotwishthatmine,whichisinconsolable,shouldbeaburdenuponyou.Toliveforgotten,tomournmydaughter,anddosomegood,thatismylife.Ifanythingcouldsoftenmygrief,itisthekindnessofmyking, it is thepleasureof seeing thatProvidencehasnot allowedourlongdevotiontobeuseless.’”

“AndwhatdidLouisXVIII.do?”askedGodefroid.

“He restored two hundred thousand francs in money to Madame de laChanterie,for theestateofSaint-Savinhadbeensold topaythecostsof thetrial.InthedecreeofpardonissuedforMadamelabaronneandherservantthekingexpressedregretforthesufferingborneinhiscause,addingthat‘thezealofhisservantshadgonetoofarinitsmethodsofexecution.’But—andthisisahorriblething;itwillservetoshowyouacurioustraitinthecharacterofthatmonarch—heemployedBryondinhisdetectivepolicethroughouthisreign.”

“Oh,kings!kings!”criedGodefroid;“andisthewretchstillliving?”

“No;thewretch,asyoujustlycallhim,whoconcealedhisrealnameunderthatofContenson,diedabout thecloseof theyear1829or thebeginningof1830. In trying toarrestacriminalwhoescapedovera roof,hefell into thestreet.LouisXVIII.sharedNapoleon’s ideasas tospiesandpolice.MadamedelaChanterieisasaint;shepraysconstantlyforthesoulofthatmanandhastwomasses said yearly for him.As I have already told you,Madame de laChanterie knewnothing of the dangers her daughterwas incurring until thedaywhenthemoneywascarriedtoAlencon;neverthelessshewasunabletoestablishher innocence,althoughdefendedbyoneof thegreatest lawyersofthattime.Thepresident,duRonceret,andthevice-president,Blondet,ofthecourtofAlencondidtheirbesttosaveourpoorlady.ButtheinfluenceofthecouncilloroftheImperialCourtwhopresidedathertrialbeforetheCriminalandSpecialCourt,thefamousMergi,andthatofBourlactheattorney-generalwas such over the other judges that they obtained her condemnation. BothBourlac and Mergi showed extraordinary bitterness against mother anddaughter; they called theBaronne des Tours-Minieres ‘thewomanBryond,’andMadame‘thewomanLechantre.’Thenamesofaccusedpersonsinthosedays were all brought to one republican level, and were sometimesunrecognizable. The trial had several very extraordinary features, which Icannotnowrecall;onepieceofaudacity remains inmymemorywhichwillserve to showyouwhat sort ofmen thoseChouanswere.Thecrowdwhichassembled tohear the trialwas immense; iteven filled thecorridorsand thesquare before the court-house.Onemorning, after the opening of the court-room and before the arrival of the judges, Pille-Miche, a famous Chouan,sprangover thebalustrade into themiddleof the crowd, elbowing right andleft, ‘charging like a wild boar,’ as Bordin told me, through the frightenedpeople.Theguardsandthegendarmesdashedafterhimandcaughthimjustashe reached the square; after that the guards were doubled. A picket ofgendarmeriewasstationedinthesquare,for theyfearedtherewereChouanson the ground ready to rescue the prisoners. As it was, three persons werecrushedtodeathonthisoccasion.ItwasafterwardsdiscoveredthatContenson(neither my friend Bordin nor I could ever bring ourselves to call him theBarondesTours-Minieres,norBryondwhichisthenameofanoldfamily),—it was, I say, discovered that this wretch Contenson had obtained sixty

thousand francs of the stolen money from the Chaussards; he gave tenthousandtotheyoungerChaussard,whomhetookwithhimintothedetectivepoliceandinnoculatedwithhisvices;hisotheraccomplicesgotnothingfromhim.MadamedelaChanterieinvestedthemoneyrestoredtoherbythekingin thepublicFunds,andbought thishouse topleaseheruncle,MonsieurdeBoisfrelon,whogaveher themoney for thepurpose, anddied in the roomsyounowoccupy.This tranquilneighborhoodisnear thearchbishop’spalace,whereourdearabbehasdutieswith thecardinal.Thatwasoneof thechiefreasonswhyMadameagreedtoheruncle’swish.Here,inthiscloistrallife,thefearful misfortunes which overwhelmed her for twenty-six years have beenbroughttoaclose.Nowyoucanunderstandthemajesty,thegrandeurofthisvictim—august,Iventuretocallher.”

“Yes,” said Godefroid, “the imprint of all the blows she has receivedremainsandgiveshersomething,Icanscarcelydescribeit,thatisgrandandmajestic.”

“Every wound, every fresh blow, has increased her patience, herresignation,”continuedAlain;“butifyouknewherasweknowheryouwouldseehowkeenishersensibility,howactivetheinexhaustibletendernessofherheart,andyouwouldalmoststand inaweof the tearsshehadshed,and theferventprayersshehadmadetoGod.Ah!itwasnecessarytohaveknown,asshe did, a brief period of happiness to bear up as she has done under suchmisfortunes.Hereisatenderheart,agentlesoulinasteelbodyhardenedbyprivations,bytoil,byausterities.”

“Herlifeexplainswhyhermitslivesolong,”saidGodefroid.

“TherearedayswhenIaskmyselfwhatisthemeaningofalifelikehers?Can it be that God reserves such trials, such cruel tests, for those of hiscreatureswhoaretositonthemorrowoftheirdeathathisrighthand?”saidthegoodAlain,quiteunconsciousthathewasartlesslyexpressingthewholedoctrineofSwedenborgontheangels.

“Andyoutellme,”saidGodefroid,“thatinprisonMadamedelaChanteriewasputwith—”

“Madamewassublimeinherprison,”saidAlain.“For threewholeyearssherealizedthestoryoftheVicarofWakefield,andwasabletoconvertmanyof the worst women about her. During her imprisonment she observed thehabitsandcustomsofthesewomen,andwasseizedwiththatgreatpityforthesorrowsofthepeoplewhichhassincefilledhersoulandmadehertheangelofParisiancharity.InthatdreadfulBicetreofRouen,sheconceivedtheplantotherealizationofwhichwearenowdevoted.Itwas,shehasoftentoldus,adelightfuldream,anangelicinspirationinthemidstofhell;thoughsheneverthought she should realize it. When, in 1819, peace and quietude seemed

really to return to Paris, her dream came back to her.Madame laDuchessed’Angouleme, afterwards the dauphine, the Duchesse de Berry, thearchbishop, later the chancellor, and several pious persons contributedliberally the first necessary sums. These funds have been increased by theadditionofourownavailableproperty, fromwhichwetakeonlyenoughforouractualneeds.”

TearscameintoGodefroid’seyes.

“WearetheministersofaChristianidea;webelongbodyandsoultoitswork,thespiritofwhich,thefounderofwhich,istheBaronnedelaChanterie,whomyouhearussorespectfullycall‘Madame.’”

“Ah! letmebelong toyou!”criedGodefroid, stretchingouthishands tothekindoldman.

“Nowyouunderstandwhytherearesomesubjectsofconversationwhichare never mentioned here, nor even alluded to. You can now see theobligations of delicacy that all who live in this house contract towards onewhoseemstousasaint.Youcomprehend—doyounot?—theinfluenceofawomanmadesacredbysuchsorrows,whoknowssomany things, towhomanguish has said its utmost word; who from each adversity has drawninstruction,inwhomallvirtueshavethedoublestrengthofcrueltrialandofconstant practice; whose soul is spotless and without reproach, whosemotherhood knew only grief, whose married love knew only bitterness; onwhomlifesmiledforabrieftimeonly,butforwhomheavenreservesapalm,therewardofresignationandofloving-kindnessundersorrow.Ah!doesshenot even triumph over Job in never murmuring? Can you wonder that herwordsaresopowerful,heroldagesoyoung,hersoulsocommunicative,herglancesoconvincing?Shehasobtainedextraordinarypowersindealingwithsufferers,forshehassufferedallthings.”

“She is the living image of Charity!” criedGodefroid, fervently. “Can Ieverbeoneofyou?”

“Youmust first endure the tests, and above all BELIEVE!” said the oldman,gently.“Solongasyouhavenofaith,solongasyouhavenotabsorbedinto your heart and mind the divine meaning of Saint Paul’s epistle uponCharity,youcannotshareourwork.”

****

SECONDEPISODE.THEINITIATE

XI.THEPOLICEOFTHEGOODGOD

Likeevil,good iscontagious.ThereforewhenMadamede laChanterie’slodgerhadlivedinthatoldandsilenthouseforsomemonthsaftertheworthyAlain’s lastconfidence,whichgavehimthedeepest respect for thereligiouslivesofthoseamongwhomhiswascast,heexperiencedthatwell-beingofthesoulwhich comesof a regulated existence, gentle customs, andharmonyofnatureinthosewhosurroundus.Attheendoffourmonths,duringwhichtimeGodefroidheardneitheraloudvoicenoranargument,hecouldnotrememberthathehadeverbeen, ifnotashappy,at leastas tranquilandcontented.Henowjudgedsoundlyoftheworld,seeingitfromafar.Atlast,thedesirehehadfeltformonthstobeasharerintheworkofthesemysteriouspersonsbecameapassion.Without beinggreat philosopherswe can all understand the forcewhichpassionsacquireinsolitude.

Thus ithappened thatoneday—adaymadesolemnby thepowerof thespiritwithin him—Godefroid againwent up to see the good oldAlain, himwhom Madame de la Chanterie called her “lamb,” the member of thecommunity who seemed to Godefroid the least imposing, the mostapproachable member of the fraternity, intending to obtain from him somedefinitelightontheconditionsofthesacredworktowhichthesebrothersofGodwerededicated.Theallusionsmadetoaperiodoftrialseemedtoimplyan initiation,whichhewasnowdesirousof receiving.Hiscuriosityhadnotbeensatisfiedbywhat thevenerableoldmanhadalready toldhimas to thecauseswhichledtotheworkofMadamedelaChanterie;hewantedtoknowmore.

ForthethirdtimeGodefroidenteredMonsieurAlain’sroom,justastheoldman was beginning his evening reading of the “Imitation of Jesus Christ.”Thistimethekindlysouldidnotrestrainasmilewhenhesawtheyoungman,andhesaidatonce,withoutallowingGodefroidtospeak:—

“Whydoyoucometome,mydearboy;whynotgotoMadame?Iamthemost ignorant, themost imperfect, the least spiritual ofournumber.For thelastthreedays,”headded,withashrewdlittleglance,“Madameandmyotherfriendshavereadyourheart.”

“Whathavetheyreadthere?”askedGodefroid.

“Ah!” replied the goodman, without evasion, “they see in you a ratherartless desire to belong to our little flock. But this sentiment is not yet anardentvocation.Yes,”hecontinued,replyingtoagestureofGodefroid’s,“youhavemore curiosity than fervor.You are not yet so detached fromyour oldideas that you do not look forward to something adventurous, romantic, astheysay,intheincidentsofourlife.”

Godefroidcouldnotkeephimselffromblushing.

“You see a likenessbetweenouroccupations and thoseof the caliphsofthe‘ArabianNights;’andyouarethinkingaboutthesatisfactionyouwillhavein playing the part of the good genii in the tales of benevolence you areinventing.Ah,mydearboy!thatshame-facedlaughofyoursprovestomethatwe were quite right in that conjecture. How do you expect to conceal anyfeelingfrompersonswhosebusinessitistodivinethemosthiddenmotionofsouls, the tricksofpoverty, the calculationsof indigence,—honest spies, thepolice of the good God; old judges, whose code contains nothing butabsolutions; doctors of suffering,whose only remedy is oftentimes thewiseapplicationofmoney?But,yousee,mychild,wedon’twishtoquarrelwiththe motives which bring us a neophyte, provided he will really stay andbecomeabrotherof theorder.We shall judgeyoubyyourwork.There aretwokindsofcuriosity,—thatofgoodandthatofevil;justatthismomentyouhavethatofgood.Ifyoushouldworkinourvineyard,thejuiceofourgrapeswillmakeyouperpetually thirsty for thedivine fruit.The initiation is, as inthat of all natural knowledge, easy in appearance, difficult in reality.Benevolenceislikepoesy;nothingiseasierthantocatchtheappearanceofit.Buthere,asinParnassus,nothingcontentsusbutperfection.Tobecomeoneto us, youmust acquire a great knowledge of life. Andwhat a life,—goodGod!Parisianlife,whichdefiesthesagacityoftheministerofpoliceandallhisagents!WehavetocircumventtheperpetualconspiracyofEvil,masteritinallitsforms,whileitchangessooftenastoseeminfinite.CharityinParismustknowasmuchasvice, justasapolicemanmustknowall the tricksofthieves. We must each be frank and each distrustful; we must have quickperceptionandasureandrapidjudgment.Andthen,mychild,weareoldandgettingolder; butwe are so contentwith the resultswehavenowobtained,that we do not want to die without leaving successors in the work. If youpersist inyourdesire,youwillbeour firstpupil,andall thedearer tousonthataccount.Thereisnoriskforus,becauseGodbroughtyoutous.Yoursisagoodnaturesoured;sinceyouhavebeenhere theevil leavenhasweakened.The divine nature of Madame has acted upon yours. Yesterday we tookcounseltogether;andinasmuchasIhaveyourconfidence,mygoodbrothersresolvedtogivemetoyouasguardianandteacher.Doesthatpleaseyou?”

“Ah!mykindMonsieurAlain,youreloquenceawakens—”

“No,mychild,itisnotIwhospeakwell;itisthingsthatareeloquent.Wecanbesureofbeinggreat,evensublime, inobeyingGod, in imitatingJesusChrist,—imitatinghim, Imean, asmuchasmenare able todo so, aidedbyfaith.”

“Thismoment,then,decidesmylife!”criedGodefroid.“Ifeelwithinmethefervorofaneophyte;Iwishtospendmylifeindoinggood.”

“ThatisthesecretofremaininginGod,”repliedAlain.“Haveyoustudiedourmotto,—Transirebenefaciendo?Transiremeanstogobeyondthisworld,leavingbenefitsonourway.”

“Yes, I have understood it; I have put themotto of the order beforemybed.”

“Thatiswell;itisatriflingaction,butitcountsformuchinmyeyes.AndnowIhaveyourfirstaffair,yourfirstduelwithmisery,preparedforyou;I’llputyourfoot in thestirrup.Weareabout topart.Yes,Imyselfamdetachedfrom the convent, to live for a time in the craterof avolcano. I am tobe aclerk in a great manufactory, where the workmen are infected withcommunistic doctrines, and dream of social destruction, the abolishment ofmasters,—notknowingthatthatwouldbethedeathofindustry,ofcommerce,of manufactures. I shall stay there goodness knows how long,—perhaps ayear,—keepingthebooksandpayingthewages.Thiswillgivemeanentranceinto a hundred or a hundred and twenty homes ofworking-men,misled, nodoubt,bypoverty,evenbeforethepamphletsofthedaymisledthem.ButyouandIcanseeeachotheronSundaysandfete-days.Weshallbe in thesamequarter;andifyoucometothechurchofSaint-JacquesduHaut-Pas,youwillfindme thereanydayathalf-past seven,whenIhearmass. Ifyoumeetmeelsewhere don’t recognizeme, unless you seeme rubmy hands like amanwhoispleasedatsomething.Thatisoneofoursigns.Wehavealanguageofsigns, like thedeafanddumb;you’ll soonfindout theabsolutenecessityofit.”

Godefroid made a gesture which the goodman Alain interpreted; for helaughed,andimmediatelywentontosay:—

“Now for your affair. We do not practise either the benevolence or thephilanthropy that you know about, which are really divided into severalbranches, all taken advantage of by sharpers in charity as a business. WepractisecharityasourgreatandsublimeSaintPauldefinesit;for,mydearlad,wethinkthatcharity,andcharityalone,whichisLove,canhealthewoundsofParis. In our eyes,misery, of whatever kind, poverty, suffering,misfortune,grief, evil, no matter how produced, or in what social class they showthemselves, have equal rights.Whateverhisopinionsorbeliefs, anunhappymanis,beforeallelse,anunhappyman;andweoughtnottoattempttoturnhisfacetoourholymotherChurchuntilwehavesavedhimfromdespairorhunger.Moreover,weoughttoconverthimtogoodnessmorebyexampleandbygentlenessthanbyanyothermeans;andwebelievethatGodwillspeciallyhelp us in this.All constraint is bad.Of themanifold Parisianmiseries, themost difficult to discover, and the bitterest, is that ofworthy persons of themiddle classes who have fallen into poverty; for they make concealment apoint of honor. Those sorrows, my dear Godefroid, are to us the object of

special solicitude. Such persons usually have intelligence and good hearts.They return tous, sometimeswithusury, the sums thatwe lend them.Suchrestitutions recoup us in the long run for the losses we occasionally incurthrough impostors, shiftless creatures, or those whom misfortunes haverenderedstupid.Throughsuchpersonsweoftenobtaininvaluablehelpinourinvestigations. Our work has now become so vast, its details are somultifarious,thatwenolongersufficeofourselvestocarryiton.So,forthelast yearwe have a physician of our own in every arrondissement in Paris.Each of us takes general charge of four arrondissements. We pay eachphysician three thousand francs a year to take care of our poor. His timebelongstousinthefirst instance,butwedonotpreventhimfromattendingothersickpersonsifhecan.Wouldyoubelievethatformanymonthswewereunabletofindtwelvereallytrustworthy,valuablemen,inspiteofallourowneffortsandthoseofourfriends?Wecouldnotemployanybutmenofabsolutediscreetness,purelives,soundknowledge,experience,activemen,andloversof doing good. Now, although there are in Paris some ten thousandindividuals,moreor less,whowouldgladlydo thework,wecouldnot findtwelvetomeetourneedsinawholeyear.”

“Our Saviour had difficulty in gathering his apostles, and even then atraitorandanunbelievergotamongthem,”saidGodefroid.

“However,withinthelastmonthallourarrondissementsareprovidedwithaVisitor—that is thenamewegive toourphysicians.At the same time thebusinessis increasing,andwehaveallredoubledouractivity.IfIconfidetoyouthesesecretsofoursystem,itisthatyoumustknowthephysician,thatis,theVisitorofthearrondissementtowhichweareabouttosendyou;fromhim,alloriginalinformationaboutourcasescomes.ThisVisitorisnamedBerton,DoctorBerton;helivesintherued’Enfer.Andnowherearethefacts:DoctorBertonisattendingaladywhosediseasepuzzlesanddefiesscience.That,ofcourse,isnotourconcern,butthatoftheFaculty.Ourbusinessistodiscoverthe conditionof the familyof this patient;DoctorBerton suspects that theirpoverty is frightful, and concealed with a pride and determination whichdemandourutmostcare.Untilnow,myson,Ishouldhavefoundtimeforthiscase, but thework I amundertakingobligesme to find ahelper inmy fourarrondissements, and you shall be that helper. This family lives in the rueNotre-DamedesChamps,inahouseatthecorneroftheboulevardduMont-Parnasse.Youwillfindaroomtoletinthesamehouse,whereyoucanliveforatimesoastodiscoverthetruthaboutthesepersons.Besordidforyourself,butasforthemoneyyoumaythinkneededforthiscasehavenouneasiness.Iwill remit you such sums as we may judge necessary after ourselvesconsidering all the circumstances. But remember that you must study themoralqualitiesof theseunfortunates: theirhearts, thehonorablenessof theirfeelings; those are our guarantees. Miserly we may be for ourselves, and

generoustothosewhosuffer,butwemustbeprudentandevencalculating,forwearedealingwiththemoneyofthepoor.Sothen,to-morrowmorningyoucanstart;thinkoverthepowerweputinyourhands:thebrothersarewithyouinheart.”

“Ah!” cried Godefroid, “you have given me such a pleasure in theopportunityofdoinggoodandmakingmyselfworthytobelongtoyousomeday,thatIshallnotsleepto-night.”

“Onemore word,my child. I told you not to recognizemewithout thesignal;thesameruleappliestotheothergentlemenandtoMadame,andeventothepeopleyouseeaboutthishouse.Weareforcedtokeepupanabsoluteincognito in all we do; this is so necessary to our enterprises that we havemadearuleaboutit.Weseektobeignored,lostinthisgreatParis.Rememberalso,mydearGodefroid,thespiritofourorder;whichis,nevertoappearasbenefactors,toplayanobscurepart,thatofintermediaries.Wealwayspresentourselvesas theagentofapious,saintlyperson(infact,weareworkingforGod),sothatnoneofthosewedealwithmayfeeltheobligationofgratitudetowardsanyofus,orthinkwearewealthypersons.True,sincerehumility,notthefalsehumilityofthosewhoseektherebytobesetinthelight,mustinspireyouandruleallyourthoughts.Youmayindeedbegladwhenyousucceed;butsolongasyoufeelwithinyouasentimentofvanityorofpride,youarenotworthytodotheworkoftheorder.Wehaveknowntwoperfectmen:one,whowasoneofourfounders,JudgePopinot;theotherisrevealedbyhisworks;heis a countrydoctorwhosename iswrittenon theannalsofhis canton.Thatman,mydearGodefroid,isoneofthegreatestmenofourtime;hebroughtawhole region out of wretchedness into prosperity, out of irreligion intoChristianity,outofbarbarism intocivilization.Thenamesof those twomenaregravenonourheartsandwehavetakenthemasourmodels.Weshouldbehappy indeed ifweourselves could someday acquire inParis the influencethatcountrydoctorhad inhiscanton.Buthere, the sore isvast,beyondourstrengthatpresent.MayGodpreserve tousMadame,mayhesendus someyounghelperslikeyou,andperhapswemayyetleavebehindusaninstitutionworthyofhisdivinereligion.Andnowgood-bye;yourinitiationbegins—Ah!Ichatterlikeaprofessorandforgettheessentialthing!Hereistheaddressofthatfamily,”headded,givingGodefroidapieceofpaper;“IhaveaddedthenumberofDr.Berton’shouseintherued’Enfer;andnow,goandpraytoGodtohelpyou.”

Godefroid took the oldman’s hands and pressed them tenderly,wishinghimgood-night,andassuringhimhewouldnotneglectasinglepointofhisadvice.

“All that you have said to me,” he added, “is graven in my memoryforever.”

The oldman smiled, expressing no doubts; then he rose, to kneel in hisaccustomedplace.Godefroidretired,joyfulinatlastsharingthemysteriesofthathouseandinhavinganoccupation,which,feelingashedidthen,wastohimanuntoldpleasure.

Thenextdayatbreakfast,MonsieurAlain’splacewasvacant,butnooneremarked upon it; Godefroidmade no allusion to the cause of his absence,neitherdidanyonequestionhimastothemissiontheoldmanhadentrustedto him; he thus took his first lesson in discreetness. Nevertheless, afterbreakfast, he did take Madame de la Chanterie apart and told her that heshouldbeabsentforsomedays.

“Thatisgood,mychild,”repliedMadamedelaChanterie;“trytodohonortoyourgodfather,whohasansweredforyoutohisbrothers.”

Godefroidbadeadieu to the three remainingbrethren,whomadehimanaffectionatebow,bywhich theyseemed toblesshisentranceuponapainfulcareer.

ASSOCIATION,oneofthegreatestsocialforces,andthatwhichmadetheEurope of themiddle-ages, rests on principleswhich, since 1792, no longerexist in France, where the Individual has now triumphed over the State.Associationrequires,inthefirstplace,aself-devotionthatisnotunderstoodinourday;alsoaguilelessfaithwhichiscontrarytothespiritofthenation,andlastly, a discipline against which men in these days revolt and which theCatholic religion alone can enforce. The moment an association is formedamongus,eachmember,returningtohisownhomefromanassemblywherenoblesentimentshavebeenproclaimed,thinksofmakinghisownbedoutofthatcollectivedevotion,thatunionofforces,andofmilkingtohisownprofitthe common cow, which, not being able to supply so many individualdemands,diesexhausted.

Who knows how many generous sentiments were blasted, how manyfruitful germs may have perished, lost to the nation through the infamousdeceptionsof theFrenchCarbonari, thepatrioticsubscriptions to theChampd’Asile, and other political deceptionswhich ought to have been grand andnoble dramas, and proved to be the farces and the melodramas of policecourts. It is the same with industrial association as it is with politicalassociation.Loveof self is substituted for the loveofcollectivebodies.Thecorporations and the Hanse leagues of the middle-ages, to which we shallsomedayreturn,arestill impossible.Consequently, theonlysocietieswhichactuallyexistarethoseofreligiousbodies,againstwhomaheavywarisbeingmade at thismoment; for the natural tendency of sick persons is to quarrelwith remedies and often with physicians. France ignores self-abnegation.Therefore,noassociationcanliveexceptthroughreligioussentiment;theonly

sentimentthatquellstherebellionsofmind,thecalculationsofambition,andgreeds of all kinds. The seekers of better worlds ignore the fact thatASSOCIATIONhassuchworldstooffer.

As he walked through the streets Godefroid felt himself another man.Whoever could have looked into his beingwould have admired the curiousphenomenonof thecommunicationof collectivepower.Hewasno longeramere man, he was a tenfold force, knowing himself the representative ofpersons whose united forces upheld his actions and walked beside him.Bearingthatpowerinhisheart,hefeltwithinhimaplenitudeoflife,anoblemight, which uplifted him. It was, as he afterwards said, one of the finestmoments of his whole existence; he was conscious of a new sense, anomnipotence more sure than that of despots. Moral power is, like thought,limitless.

“To live for others,” he thought, “to act with others, all as one, and actaloneasalltogether,tohaveforleaderCharity,thenoblest,themostlivingofthoseidealfiguresChristianityhasmadeforus,thisisindeedtolive!—Come,come, repress that petty joy, which father Alain laughed at. And yet, howsingular it is that in seeking to setmyself aside from life I have found thepowerIhavesoughtsolong!Yes,theworldofmiserywillbelongtome!”

XII.ACASETOINVESTIGATE

Godefroid walked from the cloister of Notre-Dame to the avenue del’Observatoireinsuchastateofexaltationthathenevernoticedthelengthoftheway.

When he reached the rueNotre-Dame desChamps at the pointwhere itjoinstheruedel’Ouesthewasamazedtofind(neitherofthesestreetsbeingpavedatthetimeofwhichwewrite)greatmud-holesinthatfineopenquarter.Personswalkedonplankslaiddownbesidethehousesandalongthemarshygardens, or on narrow paths flanked on each side by stagnant water whichsometimesturnedthemintorivulets.

Bydintofsearchinghefoundthehousehewanted,buthedidnotreachitwithout difficulty. It was evidently an abandoned factory. The buildingwasnarrow and the side of it was a long wall with many windows and noarchitecturaldecorationwhatever.Noneofthesewindows,whichweresquare,were on the lower floor, where there was no opening but a verymiserableentrance-door.

Godefroid supposed that the proprietor had turned the building into a

numberofsmall tenementstomakeitprofitable,forawrittenplacardabovethedoorstatedthattherewere“Severalroomstolet.”Godefroidrang,butnoone came.Whilehewaswaiting, a personwhowentbypointedout tohimthat the house had another entrance on the boulevard where he might getadmittance.

Godefroidfollowedthisadviceandsawatthefartherendofalittlegardenwhichextendedalongtheboulevardaseconddoortothehouse.Thegarden,rather ill-kept, sloped downward, for there was enough difference in levelbetweentheboulevardandtherueNotre-DamedesChampstomakeitasortof ditch. Godefroid therefore walked along one of the paths, at the end ofwhichhesawanoldwomanwhosedilapidatedgarmentswereinkeepingwiththehouse.

“Wasityouwhorangattheotherdoor?”sheasked.

“Yes,madame.Doyoushowthelodgings?”

On the woman’s replying that she did, Godefroid inquired if the otherlodgerswerequietpersons;hisoccupations,hesaid,weresuchthatheneededsilenceandpeace;hewasabachelorandwouldbeglad toarrangewith theportresstodohishousekeeping.

Onthissuggestiontheportressassumedagraciousmanner.

“Monsieurhas fallenonhis feet incominghere, then,”shesaid;“exceptontheChaumieredaystheboulevardisaslonelyasthePontinemarshes.”

“Ah!youknowthePontinemarshes?”saidGodefroid.

“No, monsieur, I don’t; but I’ve got an old gentleman upstairs whosedaughterseemstogetherlivingbybeingill,andhesaysthat;Ionlyrepeatit.Thepooroldmanwillbegladtoknowthatmonsieurlikesquiet,foranoisyneighbor,hethinks,wouldkillhisdaughter.Onthesecondfloorwehavetwowriters; they don’t come in till midnight, and are off before eight in themorning. They say they are authors, but I don’t knowwhere or when theywrite.”

While speaking, the portress was showing Godefroid up one of thosehorriblestairwaysofbrickandwoodso illput together that it ishard to tellwhetherthewoodistryingtogetridofthebricksorthebricksaretryingtogetawayfromthewood;thegapsbetweenthemwerepartlyfilledupbywhatwas dust in summer and mud in winter. The walls, of cracked and brokenplaster, presented to the eyemore inscriptions than theAcademy ofBelles-lettreshasyetcomposed.Theportressstoppedonthefirstlanding.

“Here, monsieur, are two rooms adjoining each other and very clean,whichopenoppositetothoseofMonsieurBernard;that’stheoldgentlemanI

toldyouof,—quiteaproperperson.Heisdecorated;butitseemshehashadmisfortunes,forheneverwearshisribbon.Theyformerlyhadaservantfromthe provinces, but they sent him away about three years ago; and now theyoungsonoftheladydoeseverything,houseworkandall.”

Godefroidmadeagesture.

“Oh!”criedthePortress,“don’tyoubeafraid;theywon’tsayanythingtoyou;theyneverspeaktoanyone.TheycamehereaftertheRevolutionofJuly,in1830. I think they’reprovincial folkruinedby thechangeofgovernment;they are proud, I tell you! and dumb as fishes. For three years,monsieur, Ideclaretheyhavenotletmedothesmallestthingforthemforfeartheyshouldhave topayfor it.AhundredsousonNewYear’sday, that’sall Igetoutofthem.Talktomeofauthors,indeed!”

ThisgossipmadeGodefroidhopeheshouldgetsomeassistanceoutofthewoman,whopresentlysaid,whilepraisingthehealthfulnessofthetworoomssheofferedhim,thatshewasnotaportress,buttheconfidentialagentoftheproprietor,forwhomshemanagedmanyoftheaffairsofthehouse.

“You may have confidence in me, monsieur, that you may! MadameVauthier,itiswellknown,wouldratherhavenothingthanasinglepennythatoughttogotoothers.”

MadameVauthiersooncametotermswithGodefroidwhowouldnottaketheroomsunlesshecouldhavethembythesinglemonthandfurnished.Thesemiserable rooms of students and unlucky authors were rented furnished orunfurnished as the casemight be. The vast garret which extended over thewholebuildingwasfilledwithsuchfurniture.ButMonsieurBernard,shesaid,hadfurnishedhisownrooms.

InmakingMadameVauthier talk,Godefroiddiscoveredshehadintendedtokeepboardersinthebuilding,butforthelastfiveyearshadnotobtainedasinglelodgerofthatdescription.Shelivedherselfontheground-floorfacingtowardstheboulevard;andlookedafterthewholehouse,bythehelpofahugemastiff,astoutservant-girl,andaladwhoblackedtheboots,tookcareoftherooms,anddidtheerrands.

These twoservantswere, likeherself, inkeepingwith thepovertyof thehouse, thatof the tenants,andthewildandtangledlookof thegarden.Bothwerechildrenabandonedby theirparents towhomthewidowgavefoodforwages,—andwhatfood!Thelad,whomGodefroidcaughtaglimpseof,worea raggedblouse and list slippers insteadof shoes, and sabotswhenhewentout.Withhistousledhead,lookinglikeasparrowwhenittakesabath,andhisblack hands, hewent tomeasurewood at awood-yard on the boulevard assoon as he had finished themorningwork of the house; and after his day’s

labor(whichendsinwood-yardsathalf-pastfourintheafternoon)hereturnedtohisdomesticavocations.HewenttothefountainoftheObservatoireforthewater used in the house,which thewidow supplied to the tenants, togetherwithbundlesofkindling,sawedandtiedupbyhim.

Nepomucene, suchwas thenameof thewidowVauthier’s slave,broughtthedailyjournaltohismistress.Insummerthepoorforsakenladwasawaiterinthewine-shopsatthebarrier;andthenhismistressdressedhimproperly.

Asforthestoutgirl,shecookedunderdirectionofthewidow,andhelpedherinanotherdepartmentofindustryduringtherestoftheday;forMadameVauthierhadabusiness,—shemadelistshoes,whichwereboughtandsoldbypedlers.

Godefroidlearnedallthesedetailsinaboutanhour’stime;forthewidowtook him everywhere, and showed him the whole building, explaining itstransformation into a dwelling. Until 1828 it had been a nursery for silk-worms, less for the silk than toobtainwhat theycall theeggs.ElevenacresplantedwithmulberriesontheplainofMontrouge,andthreeacresontheruedel’Ouest,afterwardsbuiltover,hadsuppliedthissingularestablishment.

Just as the widow was explaining to Godefroid how Monsieur Barbet,havinglentmoneytoanItaliannamedFresconi,themanagerofthebusiness,couldrecoverhismoneyonlybyforeclosingamortgageonthebuildingandseizing the threeacreson the rueNotre-DamedesChamps, a tall, spareoldmanwithsnow-whitehairappearedat theendof thestreetwhich leads intothesquareoftheruedel’Ouest.

“Ah!herehecomes,justintime!”criedtheVauthier;“that’syourneighborMonsieurBernard.MonsieurBernard!”shecalledoutassoonastheoldmanwaswithinhearing;“youwon’tbealoneanylonger;hereisagentlemanwhohashiredtheroomsoppositetoyours.”

MonsieurBernard turned his eyes onGodefroidwith an apprehension itwas easy to fathom; the look seemed to say: “The misfortune I feared hascometopass.”

“Monsieur,”hesaidaloud,“doyouintendtolivehere?”

“Yes, monsieur,” said Godefroid, honestly. “It is not a resort for thefortunate of this earth and it is the least expensive place I can find in thequarter.MadameVauthierdoesnotpretendtolodgemillionnaires.Adieu,forthepresent,mygoodMadameVauthier,andhaveeverythingreadyformeatsixo’clockthisevening;Ishallreturnpunctually.”

Godefroidturnedtowardthesquareoftheruedel’Ouest,walkingslowly,fortheanxietydepictedonthefaceofthetalloldmanmadehimthinkthathe

wouldfollowhimandcometoanexplanation.And,infact,afteraninstant’shesitation Monsieur Bernard turned round and retraced his steps so as toovertakeGodefroid.

“The old villain! he’ll prevent him from returning,” thought MadameVauthier;“that’s the second timehehasplayedme thesame trick.Patience!patience!fivedayshenceheoweshisrent,andifhedoesn’tpaysharpupI’llturnhimout.MonsieurBarbetisakindofatigeronemustn’toffend,and—But Iwould like toknowwhathe’s tellinghim.Felicite!Felicite, yougreatgawk!whereareyou?”criedthewidowinherrasping,brutalvoice,—shehadbeenusingherdulcettonestoGodefroid.

Theservant-girl,stout,squint-eyed,andred-haired,ranout.

“Keep your eye on things, do you hear me? I shall be back in fiveminutes.”

AndMadameVauthier, formerlycookto thepublisherBarbet,oneof thehardestlendersofmoneybytheweek,slippedalongbehindhertwotenantssoastobeabletoovertakeGodefroidassoonashisconversationwithMonsieurBernardcametoanend.

MonsieurBernardwalkedslowly, likeamanwho isundecided,or likeadebtor seeking for excuses to placate a creditor who has just left himwiththreats.Godefroid,thoughsomedistanceinfront,sawhimwhilepretendingtolookaboutandexaminethelocality.Itwasnot,therefore,tilltheyreachedthemiddle of the great alley of the garden of the Luxembourg that MonsieurBernardcameuptotheyoungman.

“Pardonme,monsieur,”saidMonsieurBernard,bowingtoGodefroid,whoreturned his bow. “A thousand pardons for stopping youwithout having thehonorofyouracquaintance;butisitreallyyourintentiontotakelodgingsinthathorriblehouseyouhavejustleft?”

“But,monsieur—”

“Yes, yes,” said the old man, interrupting Godefroid, with a gesture ofauthority.“IknowthatyoumaywellaskmebywhatrightImeddleinyouraffairsandpresumetoquestionyou.Hearme,monsieur;youareyoungandIamold;Iamolderthanmyyears,andtheyaresixty-seven;peopletakemeforeighty.Ageandmisfortunesjustifymanythings;butIwillnotmakeapleaofmywhitenedhead;Iwishtospeakofyourself.Doyouknowthatthisquarterin which you propose to live is deserted by eight o’clock at night, and theroads are full of dangers, the least of which is robbery? Have you noticedthosewidespacesnotyetbuiltupon,thesefields,thesegardens?YoumaytellmethatI livehere;but,monsieur, Inevergooutaftersixo’clock.Youmayalso remind me of the two young men on the second floor, above the

apartmentyouaregoingtotake.But,monsieur,thosetwopoormenoflettersarepursuedbycreditors.Theyareinhiding;theyareawayinthedaytimeandonlyreturnatnight;theyhavenoreasontofearrobbersorassassins;besides,theyalwaysgotogetherandarearmed.Imyselfobtainedpermissionfromtheprefectureofpolicethattheyshouldcarryarms.”

“Monsieur,” said Godefroid, “I am not afraid of robbers, for the samereasonsthatmakethosegentlemeninvulnerable;andIdespiselifesoheartilythatifIweremurderedbymistakeIshouldblessthemurderer!”

“You do not look to me very unhappy,” said the old man, examiningGodefroid.

“Ihave,atthemost,enoughtogetmebreadtoliveon;andIhavecometothisplace,monsieur,becauseofitssilentneighborhood.MayIaskyouwhatinterestyouhaveindrivingmeaway?”

The old man hesitated; he saw Madame Vauthier close behind them.Godefroid, who examined him attentively, was astonished at the degree ofthinnesstowhichgrief,perhapshunger,perhapstoil,hadreducedhim.Thereweresignsofallthosecausesuponthatface,wheretheparchedskinclungtothe bones as if it had been burned by the sun of Africa. The dome of theforehead,highandthreatening,overshadowedapairofsteel-blueeyes,—twocold,hard,sagacious,penetratingeyes,likethoseofsavages,surroundedbyablack and wrinkled circle. The large nose, long and very thin, and theprominent chin, gave the old man a strong resemblance to the well-knownmaskpopularlyascribedtoDonQuixote;butawickedDonQuixote,withoutillusions,—aterribleDonQuixote.

Andyettheoldman,inspiteofthisgeneralaspectofseverity,betrayedtheweaknessandtimiditywhichindigenceimpartstoallunfortunates.Thesetwoemotionsseemedtohavemadecrevicesinthatsolidlyconstructedfacewhichthe pickaxe of poverty was daily enlarging. The mouth was eloquent andgrave; in that feature Don Quixote was complicated with Montesquieu’spresident.

His clothingwas entirely of black cloth, but cloth thatwaswhite at theseams. The coat, of an old-fashioned cut, and the trousers, showed variousclumsy darns. The buttons had evidently just been renewed. The coat,buttonedtothechin,showednolinen;andthecravat,ofarustyblack,hidthegreater part of a false collar. These clothes, worn formany years, smelt ofpoverty.Andyettheloftyairofthismysteriousoldman,hisgait,thethoughtthat dwelt on his brow and was manifest in his eyes, excluded the idea ofpauperism.Anobserverwouldhavehesitatedhowtoclasshim.

MonsieurBernardseemedsoabsorbedthathemighthavebeentakenfora

teacheremployedinthatquarterofthecity,orforsomelearnedmanplungedinexactingandtyrannicalmeditation.Godefroid,inanycase,wouldhavefeltacuriositywhichhispresentmissionofbenevolencesharpenedintopowerfulinterest.

“Monsieur,” continued the old man, “if I were sure that you are reallyseekingsilenceandseclusion,Ishouldsay take thoseroomsnearmine.”HeraisedhisvoicesothatMadameVauthier,whowasnowpassingthem,couldhearhim.“Takethoserooms.Iamafather,monsieur.Ihaveonlyadaughterandagrandson toenableme tobear themiseriesof life.Now,mydaughterneeds silence and absolute tranquillity. All those persons who, so far, havelookedattheroomsyouarenowconsidering,havelistenedtothereasonsandthe entreaties of a despairing father. Itwas indifferent to themwhether theylivedinonehouseoranotherofaquartersodesertedthatplentyoflodgingscanbehadforalowprice.ButIseeinyouafixeddetermination,andIbegyou,monsieur,not todeceiveme.Doyoureallydesireaquiet life?Ifnot, Ishallbeforcedtomoveandgobeyondthebarrier,andtheremovalmaycostmemydaughter’slife.”

Ifthemancouldhavewept,thetearswouldhavecoveredhischeekswhilehespoke;as itwas, theywere, touseanexpressionnowbecomevulgar,“inhis voice.” He covered his forehead with his hand, which was nothing butbonesandmuscle.

“What is your daughter’s illness?” askedGodefroid, in a persuasive andsympatheticvoice.

“Aterribledisease towhichphysiciansgivevariousnames,but ithas, intruth, no name.My fortune is lost,” he added,with one of those despairinggestures made only by the wretched. “The little money that I had,—for in1830Iwascastfromahighposition,—infact,allthatIpossessed,wassoonusedbyonmydaughter’sillness;hermother,too,wasruinedbyit,andfinallyherhusband.To-daythepensionIreceivefromthegovernmentbarelysufficesfor theactualnecessitiesofmypoor,dear,saintlychild.Thefacultyof tearshasleftme;Ihavesufferedtortures.Monsieur,Imustbegranitenottohavedied.Butno,Godhadkeptalivethefatherthatthechildmighthaveanurse,aprovidence.Her poormother died of the strain.Ah! you have come, youngman,atamomentwhentheoldtreethatneveryethasbentfeelstheaxe—theaxeofpoverty,sharpenedbysorrow—athisroots.Yes,hereamI,whonevercomplain,talkingtoyouofthisillnesssoastopreventyoufromcomingtothehouse; or, if you still persist, to implore you not to trouble our peace.Monsieur,atthismomentmydaughterbarkslikeadog,dayandnight.”

“Issheinsane?”askedGodefroid.

“Her mind is sound; she is a saint,” replied the old man. “You will

presently think I ammadwhen I tell you all.Monsieur,my only child,mydaughterwasbornofamotherinexcellenthealth.Ineverinmylifelovedbutonewoman, theone Imarried. Imarried thedaughter ofoneof thebravestcolonelsoftheImperialguard,Tarlowski,aPole,formerlyonthestaffoftheEmperor. The functions that I exercised in my high position demanded theutmostpurityof lifeandmorals;but Ihaveneverhad room inmyheart formanyfeelings,andIfaithfullylovedmywife,whodeservedsuchlove.Iamafather in likemanner as Iwas a husband, and that is telling you all in oneword. My daughter never left her mother; no child has ever lived morechastely,moretrulyaChristianlifethanmydeardaughter.Shewasbornmorethan pretty, shewas bornmost beautiful; and her husband, a youngman ofwhosemoralsIwasabsolutelysure,—hewasthesonofafriendofmine,thejudge of one of the Royal courts,—did not in any way contribute to mydaughter’sillness.”

GodefroidandMonsieurBernardmadean involuntarypause,and lookedateachother.

“Marriage, as you know, sometimes changes a young woman greatly,”resumed theoldman.“The firstpregnancypassedwellandproduceda son,my grandson, who now lives with us, the last scion of two families. Thesecondpregnancywasaccompaniedbysuchextraordinarysymptomsthatthephysicians, much astonished, attributed them to the caprice of phenomenawhich sometimes manifest themselves in this state, and are recorded byphysiciansintheannalsofscience.Mydaughtergavebirthtoadeadchild;infact, it was twisted and smothered by internalmovements. The disease hadbegun, the pregnancy counted for nothing. Perhaps you are a student ofmedicine?”

Godefroid made a sign which answered as well for affirmation as fornegation.

“After this terrible confinement,” resumed Monsieur Bernard,—“soterribleandlaboriousthatitmadeaviolentimpressiononmyson-in-lawandbegan themortalmelancholy ofwhich he died,—mydaughter, two or threemonths later, complained of a general weakness affecting, particularly, herfeet, which she declared felt like cottonwood. This debility changed toparalysis,—andwhataparalysis!Mydaughter’sfeetandlegscanbebentortwisted in anywayand shedoesnot feel it.The limbsare there, apparentlywithoutbloodormusclesorbones.Thisaffection,whichisnotconnectedwithanything known to science, spread to the arms and hands, and we thensupposedittobeadiseaseofthespinalcord.Doctorsandremediesonlymadematters worse until at last my poor daughter could not be moved withoutdislocating either the shoulders, the arms, or the knees. I kept an admirablesurgeonalmostconstantlyinthehouse,who,withthedoctor,ordoctors(for

many came out of interest in the case), replaced the dislocated limbs,—sometimes,wouldyoubelieveitmonsieur?threeandfourtimesaday!Ah!—Thisdiseasehas somany forms that I forgot to tellyou thatduring the firstperiodofweakness,beforetheparalysisbegan,thestrangestsignsofcatalepsyappeared—youknowwhatcatalepsyis.Sheremainedfordayswithhereyeswideopen,motionless, inwhateverposition shewaswhen the attack seizedher.Theworstsymptomsofthatstrangeaffectionwereshown,eventhoseoflockjaw. This phase of her illness suggested to me the idea of employingmagnetism,andIwasabouttodosowhentheparalysisbegan.Mydaughter,monsieur,hasamiraculousclear-sightedness;hersoulhasbeenthetheatreofall the wonders of somnambulism, just as her body has been that of alldiseases.”

Godefroidbegantoaskhimselfiftheoldmanwerereallysane.

“So that I,” continued Monsieur Bernard paying no attention to theexpressioninGodefroid’seyes,“evenI,achildoftheeighteenthcentury,fedonVoltaire,Diderot,Helvetius,—I,asonof theRevolution,whoscoffatallthat antiquity and the middle-ages tell us of demoniacal possession,—well,monsieur,Iaffirmthatnothingbutsuchpossessioncanexplaintheconditionofmychild.Asasomnambulistshehasneverbeenabletotellusthecauseofher sufferings; she has never perceived it, and all the remedies she hasproposedwhen in that state, though carefully carried out, have done her nogood.Forinstance,shewishedtobewrappedinthecarcassofafreshlykilledpig; then she ordered us to run the sharp points of ret-hotmagnets into herlegs;andtoputhotsealing-waxonherspine—”

Godefroidlookedathiminamazement.

“And then!what endlessother troubles,monsieur!her teeth fell out; shebecame deaf, then dumb; and then, after sixmonths of absolute dumbness,utterdeafness,speechandhearinghavereturnedtoher!Sherecovered,justascapriciouslyasshehadlost,theuseofherhands.Butherfeethavecontinuedinthesamehaplessconditionforthelastsevenyears.Shehasshownmarkedandwell-characterizedsymptomsofhydrophobia.Notonlydoesthesightofwater, thesoundofwater, thepresenceofaglassoracupflingherat timesintoastateof fury,butshebarks likeadog, thatmelancholybark,or ratherhowl,adogutterswhenhehearsanorgan.Severaltimeswehavethoughtherdying,andthepriestshadadministeredthelastsacraments;butshehasalwaysreturnedtolifetosufferwithherfullreasonandthemostabsoluteclearnessofmind; forher facultiesofheartandsoularestilluntouched.Thoughshehaslived,monsieur,shehascausedthedeathsofhermotherandherhusband,whohave not been able to endure the suffering of such scenes. Alas!monsieur,those distressing scenes are becoming worse. All the natural functions areperverted;theFacultyalonecanexplainthestrangeaberrationoftheorgans.

ShewasinthisstatewhenIbroughtherfromtheprovincestoParisin1829,because the two or three distinguished doctors to whom I wrote, Desplein,Bianchon,andHaudry,thoughtfrommylettersthatIwastellingthemfables.Magnetismwasthenenergeticallydeniedbyalltheschoolsofmedicine,andwithout saying that they doubted either my word or that of the provincialdoctors,theysaidwecouldnothaveobservedthoroughly,orelsewehadbeenmisledbytheexaggerationwhichpatientsareapttoindulgein.Buttheywereforced to change their minds when they saw my daughter; and it is to thephenomena they thenobserved that thegreat researchesmade in these latterdaysareowing;forImusttellyouthattheyclassmydaughter’ssingularstateasaformofneurosis.Atthelastconsultationofthesegentlementheydecidedtostopallmedicines,toletnaturealoneandstudyit.SincethenIhavehadbutonedoctor,andhe is thedoctorwhoattends thepoorof thisquarter.Wedonothingforhernowbutalleviatepain,forweknownotthecauseofit.”

Heretheoldmanstoppedasifovercomewithhisharrowingconfidence.

“For the last five years,” he continued, “my daughter alternates betweenrevivalsandrelapses,butnonewphenomenahaveappeared.ShesuffersmoreorlessfromthevariednervousattacksIhavebrieflydescribedtoyou,buttheparalysisofthelegsandthederangementofthenaturalfunctionsareconstant.Thepovertyintowhichwefell,andwhichalas!isonlyincreasing,obligedmetoleavetheroomsthatItook,in1829,inthefaubourgduRoule.Mydaughtercannotendure thefatigueofmoving; Icamenear losingherwhenIbroughther to Paris, and again when I removed her to this house. Here my worstfinancial misfortunes have come upon me. After thirty years in the publicserviceIwasmadetowaitfouryearsbeforemypensionwasgranted.Ihaveonlyreceiveditduringthelastsixmonthsandeventhenthenewgovernmenthassternlycutitdowntotheminimum.”

Godefroid made a gesture of surprise which seemed to ask for a morecomplete confidence. The old man so understood it, for he answeredimmediately,castingareproachfulglancetoheaven:—

“Iamoneofthethousandvictimsofpoliticalreaction.Iconcealmynamebecauseit is themarkformanyarevenge.If the lessonsofexperiencewerenotalwayswastedfromonegenerationtoanotherIshouldwarnyou,youngman,nevertoadoptthesternnessofanypolicy.NotthatIregrethavingdonemyduty;myconscienceisperfectlyclearonthatscore;butthepowersofto-dayhavenotthatsolidaritywhichformerlyboundallgovernmentstogetherasgovernments, nomatter how different theymight be; if to-day they rewardzealousagentsitisbecausetheyareafraidofthem.Theinstrumenttheyhaveused,nomatterhowfaithfulithasbeen,is,soonerorlater,castaside.YouseeinmeoneofthefirmestsupportersofthegovernmentoftheelderbranchoftheBourbons,asIwaslaterof theImperialpower;yethereIaminpenury!

Since I am too proud to beg, they have never dreamed that I suffer untoldmisery.Fivedaysago,monsieur,thedoctorwhotakescareofmydaughter,orratherIshouldsay,observesher,toldmethathewasunabletocureadiseasethe formsofwhichvariedperpetually.Hesays thatneuroticpatientsare thedespairof science, for thecausesof theirconditionsareonly tobe found insomeasyetunexploredsystem.Headvisedmetohaverecoursetoaphysicianwhohasbeencalledaquack;buthecarefullypointedoutthatthismanwasastranger,aPolishJew,arefugee,andthattheParisiandoctorswereextremelyjealous of certain wonderful cures he had made, and also of the opinionexpressed by many that he is very learned and extremely able. Only, Dr.Bertonsays,heisveryexactingandoverbearing.Heselectshispatients,andwillnot allowan instantofhis time tobewasted; andhe is—acommunist!Hisname isHalpersohn.Mygrandsonhasbeen twice to findhim,buthe isalwaystoobusytoattendtohim;hehasnotbeentoseeus;Ifullyunderstandwhy.”

“Why?”askedGodefroid.

“Becausemy grandson,who is sixteen years old, is evenmore shabbilydressed than I am. Would you believe it, monsieur? I dare not go to thatdoctor;myclothesaresooutofkeepingwithamanofmyageanddignity.IfhesawthefatherasshabbyasIam,andtheboyevenworse,hemightnotgivemydaughtertheneedfulattention;hewouldtreatusasdoctorstreatthepoor.Andthink,mydearmonsieur,thatIlovemydaughterforallthesufferingshehas causedme, just as I used to love her for the joys I had in her. She hasbecomeangelic.Alas!sheisnothingnowbutasoul,asoulwhichbeamsuponhersonandme;thebodynolongerexists;shehasconqueredsuffering.Thinkwhataspectacleforafather!Thewholeworld,tomydaughter,iswithinthewallsofherroom.Ikeepitfilledwithflowers,forshelovesthem.Shereadsagreatdeal;andwhenshehastheuseofherhandssheworkslikeafairy.Shehasnoconceptionofthehorriblepovertytowhichwearereduced.Thismakesour household way of life so strange, so eccentric, that we cannot admitvisitors. Do you now understand me, monsieur? Can you not see howimpossibleaneighboris?Ishouldhavetoaskforsomuchforbearancefromhim that the obligation would be too heavy. Besides, I have no time forfriends; I educatemygrandson, and Ihave somuchotherwork todo that Ionlysleepthree,oratmostfourhoursatnight.”

“Monsieur,”saidGodefroid,whohadlistenedpatiently,observingtheoldmanwithsorrowfulattention,“Iwillbeyourneighbor,andIwillhelpyou.”

Ascornfulgesture,evenanimpatientone,escapedtheoldman,forhewasonewhobelievedinnothinggoodinhumannature.

“I will help you,” pursued Godefroid, taking his hand, “but in my own

way.Listentome.Whatdoyoumeantomakeofyourgrandson?”

“HeissoontoentertheLawschool.Iambringinghimuptothebar.”

“Thenhewillcostyousixhundredfrancsayear.”

Theoldmanmadenoreply.

“Imyself,”continuedGodefroidafterapause,“havenothing,butImaybeabletodomuch.IwillobtainthePolishdoctorforyou.Andifyourdaughteriscurablesheshallbecured.WewillfindsomewayofpayingHalpersohn.”

“Oh!ifmydaughterbecuredIwillmakeasacrificeIcanmakebutonce,”criedtheoldman.“IwillsellthepearIhavekeptforathirstyday.”

“Youshallkeepthepear—”

“Oh, youth! youth!” exclaimed Monsieur Bernard, shaking his head.“Adieu,monsieur;orrather,aurevoir.ThisisthehourfortheLibrary,andasmybooks are all sold I amobliged togo there everyday todomywork. Ishallbearinmindthekindnessyouexpress,butImustwaitandseewhetheryouwillgrantustheconsiderationImustaskfrommyneighbor.ThatisallIexpectofyou.”

“Yes,monsieur,letmebeyourneighbor;for,Iassureyou,Barbetisnotaman to allow the rooms to be longunrented, andyoumight have farworseneighborsthanI.Idonotaskyoutobelieveinme,onlytoletmebeusefultoyou.”

“Whatobjecthaveyou?”saidtheoldman,preparingtogodownthestepsfrom the cloister of the Chartreux which leads from the great alley of theLuxembourgtotherued’Enfer.

“Didyounever,inyourpublicfunctions,obligeanyone?”

TheoldmanlookedatGodefroidwithfrowningbrows;hiseyeswerefullofmemories,likeamanwhoturnstheleavesofhisbookoflife,seekingfortheactiontowhichheowedthisgratitude;thenheturnedawaycoldly,withabow,fullofdoubt.

“Well, for a first investigation Ididnot frightenhim toomuch,” thoughtGodefroid.

XIII.FURTHERINVESTIGATIONS

Godefroidnowwenttotherued’Enfer,theaddressgivenhimbyMonsieurAlain, and there found Dr. Berton, a cold, graveman, who astonished him

much by confirming all the details given by Monsieur Bernard about hisdaughter’sillness.FromhimGodefroidobtainedtheaddressofHalpersohn.

ThisPolishdoctor,sincesocelebrated,thenlivedinChaillot,rueMarbeuf,in an isolated house where he occupied the first floor. General RomanusZarnowski lived on the second floor, and the servants of the two refugeesinhabitedthegarretofthislittlehouse,whichhadbuttwostories.GodefroiddidnotfindHalpersohn,andwastoldthathehadgoneintotheprovinces,sentforbyarichpatient;hewasalmostgladnottomeethim,forinhishurryhehad forgotten to supply himself withmoney; and he nowwent back to thehoteldelaChanterietogetsome.

Thesevarioustripsandthetimeconsumedindiningatarestaurantintheruede l’OdeonbroughtGodefroid to thehourwhenhesaidhewouldreturnand take possession of his lodging on the boulevard du Mont-Parnasse.Nothing could bemore forlorn than themanner inwhichMadameVauthierhadfurnishedthetworooms.Itseemedasthoughthewomanletroomswiththeexpresspurposethatnooneshouldstayinthem.Evidentlythebed,chairs,tables,bureau,secretary,curtains,camefromforcedsalesatauction,articlesmassedtogetherinlotsashavingnoseparateintrinsicvalue.

MadameVauthier,with her hands on her hips, stoodwaiting for thanks;shetookGodefroid’ssmileforoneofsurprise.

“There! I picked out for you the very best we have, my dearMonsieurGodefroid,”shesaidwithatriumphantair.“Seethoseprettysilkcurtains,andthe mahogany bedstead which hasn’t got a worm-hole in it! It formerlybelongedtothePrinceofWissembourg.Whenhelefthishouse,rueLouis-le-Grand,in1809,Iwasthekitchen-girl.Fromthere,Iwenttoliveascookwiththepresentownerofthishouse.”

Godefroid stopped the flux of confidences by paying a month’s rent inadvance;andhealsogave,inadvance,thesixfrancshewastopayMadameVauthierforthecareofhisrooms.Atthatmomentheheardbarking,andifhehad not been duly warned by Monsieur Bernard, he would certainly havesupposedthathisneighborkeptadog.

“Doesthatdogbarkatnight?”heasked.

“Oh!don’tbeuneasy,monsieur;you’llonlyhaveoneweektostandthosepersons.MonsieurBernardcan’tpayhisrentandwearegoingtoputhimout.Theyarequeerpeople,Itellyou!Ihaveneverseentheirdog.Thatanimalissometimesmonths, yes, sixmonths at a timewithoutmaking a sound; youmightthinktheyhadn’tadog.Thebeastneverleavesthelady’sroom.There’sasickladyinthere,andverysick,too;she’sneverbeenoutofherroomsinceshe came.OldMonsieurBernardworks hard, and the son, too; the lad is a

day-scholar at the school of Louis-le-Grand,where he is nearly through hisphilosophycourse,andonlysixteen,too;that’ssomethingtoboastof!butthelittlescamphastoworklikeonepossessed.Presentlyyou’llhearthembringout the plants they keep in the lady’s room and carry in fresh ones. Theythemselves, the grandfather and the boy, only eat bread, though they buyflowersandallsortsofdaintiesforthelady.Shemustbeveryill,nottoleaveherroomoncesinceenteringit;andifone’stobelieveMonsieurBerton,thedoctor,she’llnevercomeoutexceptfeetforemost.”

“WhatdoesthisMonsieurBernarddo?”

“It seems he’s a learned man; he writes and goes about to libraries.Monsieurlendshimmoneyonhiscompositions.”

“Monsieur?whoishe?”

“Theproprietorofthehouse,MonsieurBarbet,theoldbookseller.HeisaNormanwho used to sell green stuff in the streets, and afterwards set up abookstall,in1818,onthequay.Thenhegotalittleshop,andnowheisveryrich.HeisakindofaJew,withascoreoftrades;hewasevenapartnerwiththeItalianwhobuiltthisbarracktolodgesilk-worms.”

“Sothishouseisarefugeforunfortunateauthors?”saidGodefroid.

“Ismonsieurunluckilyonehimself?”askedthewidowVauthier.

“Iamonlyjuststarting,”repliedGodefroid.

“Oh!mydearmonsieur,takemyadviceanddon’tgoon;journalist?well,—Iwon’tsayanythingagainstthat.”

Godefroidcouldnothelp laughingashebadegood-night to theportress,whothus,allunconsciously,representedthebourgeoisie.Ashewenttobedinthehorrible room, flooredwithbricks thatwerenot even colored, andhungwithapaperatsevensousaroll,Godefroidnotonlyregrettedhislittleroomsin the rueChanoinesse,but also the societyofMadamede laChanterie.Hefeltavoidinhissoul.Hehadalreadyacquiredhabitsofmind;andcouldnotremember to have so keenly regretted anything in all his former life as thisbreakinhisnewexistence.Thesethoughts,as theypresseduponhim,hadagreateffectuponhissoul;hefeltthatnolifecouldcompareinvaluewiththeonehe sought to embrace, andhis resolution to emulate thegoodoldAlainbecameunshakable.Withouthavinganyvocationforthework,hehadthewilltodoit.

ThenextdayGodefroid,alreadyhabituatedbyhisnewlifetorisingearly,sawfromhiswindowayoungmanaboutseventeenyearsofage,dressedinablouse,whowascomingback,nodoubtfromthepublicfountain,bringingacrockfullofwaterineachhand.Thefaceofthislad,whowasnotawarethat

hewasseen,revealedhisfeelings,andneverhadGodefroidobservedonesoartlessandsomelancholy.Thegracesofyouthwereallrepressedbypoverty,by study, by great physical fatigue. Monsieur Bernard’s grandson wasremarkableforacomplexionofextremewhiteness,whichthecontrastwithhisdarkhairseemedtomakestillwhiter.Hemadethreetrips;whenhereturnedfrom the last he saw somemenunloading a cordofwoodwhichGodefroidhad ordered the night before, for the long-delayed winter of 1838 wasbeginningtobefelt;snowhadfallenslightlyduringthenight.

Nepomucene,who had begun his day by going for thewood (onwhichMadameVauthier levied a handsome tribute), spoke to the young ladwhilewaitinguntilthewoodmanhadsawedenoughforhimtocarryupstairs.Itwaseasy to see that the suddencoldwas causing anxiety toMonsieurBernard’sgrandson,andthatthesightofthewood,aswellasthatofthethreateningsky,warned him that they ought to be making their own provision for wintryweather.Suddenly,however,asifreproachinghimselfforlosttime,heseizedhis crocks and hastily entered the house. It was, in fact, half-past seveno’clock, the hour was just ringing from the belfry of the convent of theVisitation,andhewasdueatthecollegeofLouis-le-Grandbyhalf-pasteight.

As theyoungladentered thehouse,Godefroidwent tohisdoor toadmitMadameVauthierwhobroughthernewlodgerthewherewithaltomakeafire,andhethusbecamethewitnessofascenewhichtookplaceonthelanding.

Aneighboringgardener,whohadrungseveraltimesatMonsieurBernard’sdoorwithoutmakinganyonehear(forthebellwaswrappedinpaper),hadarather rough dispute with the young lad who now came upwith the water,demandingtobepaidfortheflowershehadsupplied.AsthemanraisedhisvoiceangrilyMonsieurBernardappeared.“Auguste,”hesaidtohisgrandson,“dressyourself,itistimeforschool.”

Hehimselftookthetwocrocksofwater,carriedthemintothefirstofhisrooms, in which were many pots of flowers, and returned to speak to thegardener,carefullyclosing thedoorbehindhim.Godefroid’sdoorwasopen,forNepomucenehadbegunhistrips,andwasstackingthewoodinthefrontroom.The gardenerwas silent in presence ofMonsieurBernard,whose tallfigure,robedinavioletsilkdressing-gown,buttonedtothethroat,gavehimanimposingair.

“You might ask for what is owing to you without such noise,” saidMonsieurBernard.

“Be fair, my dearmonsieur,” said the gardener. “You agreed to paymeeveryweek,anditnowthreemonths,tenweeks,sinceIhavehadapenny;youowemeahundredandtwentyfrancs.Weletoutourplantstorichpeoplewhopayuswhenweaskfor themoney;but this is thefifth timeIhavecometo

you for it. I havemy rent to pay and thewages ofmymen; I amnot a bitricherthanyou.Mywife,whosuppliedyouwitheggsandmilk,willnotcomehereanymore;youoweherthirtyfrancs.Shedoesnotliketodunyou,forsheiskind-hearted, that she is! If I listened toher, I couldn’tdobusinessatall.AndsoI,whoamnotsosoft—youunderstand?”

JustthenAugustecameoutdressedinashabbylittlegreencoatwithclothtrousersofthesamecolor,ablackcravat,andworn-outboots.Theseclothes,thoughcarefullybrushed,showedthelowestdegreeofpoverty;theywerealltooshortandtoonarrow,sothattheladseemedlikelytocrackthemateverymotion.Theseamswerewhite,theedgescurled,thebuttonholestorninspiteof many mendings; the whole presenting to the most unobservant eyes theheart-breakingstigmasofhonestpenury.Thisliverycontrastedsadlywiththeyouthof the lad,whonowdisappearedmunchingacrustofstalebreadwithhis strong and handsome teeth. He breakfasted thus on his way to the rueSaint-Jacques, carrying his books and papers under his arm, and wearing alittle cap much too small for his head, from which stuck out a mass ofmagnificentblackhair.

Inpassingbeforehisgrandfather the ladhadgivenhimrapidlya lookofdeep distress; for he knew him to be in an almost hopeless difficulty, theconsequencesofwhichmightbe terrible.To leaveroomfor theboytopass,thegardenerhad steppedback to the sillofGodefroid’sdoor, andasat thatmomentNepomucenearrivedwithaquantityofwood,thecreditorwasforcedtoretreatintotheroom.

“MonsieurBernard!” cried thewidowVauthier, “do you thinkMonsieurGodefroidhiredhisroomstohaveyouholdyourmeetingsinthem?”

“Excuseme,madame,”said thegardener,“but therewasnoroomonthelanding.”

“Ididn’tsaythatforyou,MonsieurCartier,”saidthewidow.

“Remainwhereyouare!”criedGodefroid,addressing thegardener;“andyou,mydearneighbor,”headded,lookingatMonsieurBernard,whoseemedinsensibletothecruelinsult,“ifitisconvenienttoyoutohaveanexplanationwithyourgardenerinmyroom,comein.”

Theoldman,half stupefiedwithhis troubles,casta lookofgratitudeonGodefroid.

“Asforyou,mydearMadameVauthier,”continuedGodefroid,“don’tbesoroughwithmonsieur,whoisinthefirstplaceanoldman,andonetowhomyouowetheobligationofmylodginghere.”

“Oh,pooh!”saidthewidow.

“Besides,ifpoorpeopledonothelpeachother,whowillhelpthem?Leaveus,MadameVauthier;I’llblowthefiremyself.Havetherestofmywoodputinyourcellar;Iamsureyouwilltakegoodcareofit.”

MadameVauthierdisappeared,forGodefroidintellinghertotakecareofhiswoodhadgivenanopportunitytohergreed.

“Come in this way,” said Godefroid, offering chairs to both debtor andcreditor.

Theoldmanconversedstanding,butthegardenersatdown.

“MygoodMonsieurCartier,”wentonGodefroid,“richpeopledonotpayasregularlyasyousaytheydo,andyououghtnottodunaworthymanforafew louis.Monsieur draws his pension every sixmonths, and he could notmakeyouanassignmentofitforsuchapaltrysum.Iamwillingtoadvancethemoney,ifyouabsolutelyinsistonhavingit.”

“MonsieurBernarddrewhispensiontwoweeksago,andhasnotpaidme.Iamsorrytotroublehim,ofcourse.”

“Haveyoufurnishedhimwithplantsallalong?”

“Yes,monsieur,forsixyears,andhehasalwayspaidme.”

MonsieurBernard,whowaslisteningtosomesoundinhisownroomsandpaying no attention to what was being said, now heard a cry through thepartitionsandhurriedawaywithoutaword.

“Come,come,mygoodman,”saidGodefroid,takingadvantageoftheoldman’s absence, “bring some nice flowers, your best flowers, this verymorning,andtellyourwifetosendtheeggsandmilkasusual;Iwillpayyouthisevening.”

CartierlookedoddlyatGodefroid.

“ThenyoumustknowmorethanMadameVauthierdoes;shesentmewordtohurryifIhopedtobepaid,”hesaid.“NeithershenorIcanmakeoutwhyfolkswhoeatnothingbutbreadandtheoddsandendsofvegetables,bitsofcarrots, turnips, and such things, which they get at the back-doors ofrestaurants,—yes,monsieur, IassureyouIcameonedayon the little fellowfillinganoldhandbag,—well,Iwanttoknowwhysuchpersonsspendnearlyfortyfrancsamonthonflowers.Theysaytheoldman’spensionisonlythreethousandfrancs.”

“Atanyrate,”saidGodefroid,“itisnotyourbusinesstocomplainiftheyruinthemselvesinflowers.”

“That’strue,monsieur,—providedtheypayme.”

“Bringyourbilltome.”

“Very good, monsieur,” said the gardener, with a tinge of respect.“Monsieurnodoubtwantstoseethemysteriouslady.”

“Mygoodfriend,”saidGodefroid,stiffly,“youforgetyourself.Gohomenow and bring fresh plants for those you are to take away. If you can alsosupplymewithgoodcreamandfresheggsIwilltakethem,andIwillgothismorningandtakealookatyourestablishment.”

“ItisoneofthefinestinParis,monsieur.IexhibitattheLuxembourg.Mygarden,whichcoversthreeacres,isontheboulevard,behindthegardenofLaGrande-Chaumiere.”

“Very good,Monsieur Cartier. You are, I see,much richer than I. Havesome consideration for us, therefore. Who knows how soon we may havemutualneedofeachother?”

The gardener went away, much puzzled as to who and what Godefroidmightbe.

“Andyet Iwasonce just like that,” thoughtGodefroid,blowinghis fire.“What a fine specimen of the bourgeois of to-day!—gossiping, inquisitive,crazyforequality,jealousofhiscustomers,furiousatnotknowingwhyapoorsickwomanstaysinherroomwithoutbeingseen;concealinghiswealth,andyetvainenoughtobetrayitwhenhethinksitwillputhimabovehisneighbor.Thatman ought to be the lieutenant of his company. I dare say he is.Withwhat ease he plays the scene of Monsieur Dimanche! A little more and IshouldhavemadeafriendofMonsieurCartier.”

Theoldmanbrokeintothissoliloquy,whichproveshowGodefroid’sideashadchangedinfourmonths.

“Excuseme,neighbor,”saidMonsieurBernard,inatroubledvoice;“Iseeyouhavesentthatgardenerawaysatisfied,forhebowedcivillytomeonthelanding.Itseems,youngman,asifProvidencehadsentyoutomeattheverymomentwhenIwasabout tosuccumb.Alas! thehardtalkof thatmanmusthaveshownyoumanythings!ItistruethatIreceivedthehalf-yearlypaymentofmypensiontwoweeksago;butIhadmorepressingdebts thanhis,andIwas forced toput asidemy rent for fearof being turnedout of thehouse. Ihavetoldyouthestatemydaughterisin,andyouhaveprobablyheardher.”

HelookeduneasilyatGodefroid,whomadehimanaffirmativesign.

“Well,then,youknowitwouldbeherdeathwarrant,forIshouldthenbecompelled toputher inahospital.MygrandsonandIwerefearing thatendthismorning;butwedonotdreadCartiersomuchaswedothecold.”

“MydearMonsieurBernard,”saidGodefroid,“Ihaveplentyofwood;take

allyouwant.”

“Ah!”saidtheoldman,“buthowcanIeverreturnsuchservices?”

“Byaccepting themwithoutdifficulty,” saidGodefroid,quickly, “andbygivingmeyourconfidence.”

“But what are my claims to so much generosity?” asked MonsieurBernard, becoming once more distrustful. “Ah! my pride and that of mygrandson are lowered indeed!” he cried bitterly. “We are compelled to offerexplanations to thefewcreditors—onlytwoor three—whomwecannotpay.The utterly unfortunate have no creditors; to have them one must needspresentanexteriorofsomeshow,andthatwehavenowlost.ButIhavenotyetabdicatedmycommon-sense,—myreason,”headded,asifheweretalkingtohimself.

“Monsieur,” replied Godefroid, gravely, “the history you gave meyesterdaywouldtouchevenausurer.”

“No, no! for Barbet, that publisher, the proprietor of this house, isspeculatingonmypoverty,andhassenttheVauthierwoman,hisformercook,tospyuponit.”

“Howcanhespeculateuponyou?”askedGodefroid.

“Iwilltellyoulater,”repliedtheoldman.“Mydaughteriscold,andsinceyouofferit,Iamreducedtoacceptalms,wereitevenfrommyworstenemy.”

“Iwillcarryinsomewood,”saidGodefroid,gatheringuptenoradozensticks,andtakingthemintoMonsieurBernard’sfirstroom.Theoldmantookasmany himself; andwhen he saw the little provision safely deposited, hecouldnot restrain thesilly,andeven idiotic smilewithwhich thosewhoaresaved from a mortal danger, which has seemed to them inevitable, expresstheirjoy;forterrorstilllingersintheirjoy.

“Accept things fromme,mydearMonsieurBernard,without reluctance;andwhenyourdaughterissafe,andyouareoncemoreatease,wewillsettleall. Meantime, let me act for you. I have been to see that Polish doctor;unfortunatelyheisabsent;hewillnotbebackfortwodays.”

At thismoment a voicewhich seemed to Godefroid to have, and reallyhad,afresh,melodiousring,criedout,“Papa,papa!”ontwoexpressivenotes.

Whilespeakingtotheoldman,Godefroidhadnoticedthatthejambsofadoor leading to another roomwere painted in a delicatemanner, altogetherdifferentfromthatoftherestofthelodging.Hiscuriosity,alreadysokeenlyexcited, was now roused to the highest pitch. He was conscious that hismissionofbenevolencewasbecomingnothingmore thanapretext;whathereallywantedwastoseethatsickwoman.Herefusedtobelieveforaninstant

thatacreatureendowedwithsuchavoicecouldbeanobjectofrepulsion.

“Youdo, indeed, take toomuchtrouble,papa!”said thevoice.“Whynothavemoreservants?—andatyourage,too!GoodGod!”

“Butyouknow,mydearVanda,thattheboyandIcannotbearthatanyoneshouldwaituponyoubutourselves!”

Those sentences, which Godefroid heard through the door, or ratherdivined,foraheavyportiereontheinsidesmotheredthesounds,gavehimaninkling of the truth. The sick woman, surrounded by luxury, was evidentlykept in ignorance of the real situation of her father and son.The violet silkdressing-gownofMonsieurBernard, theflowers,his remarks toCartier,hadalready roused some suspicionof this inGodefroid’smind.Theyoungmanstood still where he was, bewildered by this prodigy of paternal love. Thecontrast,suchasheimaginedit,betweentheinvalid’sroomandtherestofthatsqualidplace,—yes,itwasbewildering!

XIV.HOWTHEPOORANDHELPLESSAREPREYEDUPON

Through the door of a third chamber, which the oldman had left open,Godefroid beheld two cots of painted wood, like those of the cheapestboarding-schools,eachwitha strawbedanda thinmattress,onwhich therewasbutoneblanket.Asmall ironstovelike those thatporterscookby,nearwhichlayafewsquaresofpeat,wouldalonehaveshownthepovertyof thehouseholdwithoutthehelpofotherdetails.

Advancing a step or two, Godefroid saw utensils such as the poorestpersons use,—earthenware jugs, and pans inwhich potatoes floated in dirtywater.Two tablesofblackenedwood,coveredwithbooksandpapers, stoodbefore thewindows that looked out upon the rueNotre-Dame desChamps,and indicated the nocturnal occupations of father and son. On each of thetableswas a flat iron candlestick, such as areusedby theverypoor, and inthemGodefroidnoticedtallow-candlesofthekindthataresoldateighttothepound.

Onathirdtableglitteredtwoforksandspoonsandanotherlittlespoonofsilver-gilt,togetherwithplates,bowls,andcupsofSevreschina,andasilver-gilt knife and fork in an open case, all evidently for the service of the sickwoman.

The stovewas lighted; thewater in the copperwas steaming slightly.Apaintedwoodenclosetorwardrobecontained,nodoubt,thelinenandclothingofMonsieurBernard’sdaughter.Ontheoldman’sbedGodefroidnoticedthat

the habiliments he hadworn the night before lay spread as a covering.Thefloor,evidentlyseldomswept, looked like thatofaboy’sclass-room.Asix-pound loaf of bread, fromwhich some slices had been cut, was on a shelfabove the table. Here was poverty in its last stages, poverty resolutelyaccepted with stern endurance, making shift with the lowest and poorestmeans.Astrongandsickeningodorcame from this room,whichwas rarelycleaned.

Theantechamber,inwhichGodefroidstood,wasatanyratedecent,andhesuspected that it served to conceal the horrors of the room in which thegrandfather and the grandson lived.This antechamber, hungwith a checkedpaper of Scotch pattern, held four walnut chairs, a small table, a coloredengravingoftheEmperorafterHoraceVernet,alsoportraitsofLouisXVIII.,Charles X., and Prince Poniatowski, no doubt the friend of MonsieurBernard’s father-in-law. Thewindowwas drapedwith white calico curtainsedgedwithredbandsandfringe.

Godefroid watched for Nepomucene, andwhen the lattermade his nexttripwithwood signed to him to stack it very gently inMonsieurBernard’santechamber; then (aperceptionwhichprovedsomeprogress inour initiate)heclosedthedooroftheinnerlairthatMadameVauthier’sslavemightnotseetheoldman’ssqualor.

Theantechamberwas just thenencumberedwith threeplant-stands filledwithplants;twowereoblong,oneround,allthreewereofaspeciesofebonyandofgreatelegance;evenNepomucene tooknoticeof themandsaidashedepositedthewood:—

“Hey!ain’ttheypretty?Theymusthavecostagoodbit!”

“Jean! don’t make so much noise!” called Monsieur Bernard from hisdaughter’sroom.

“Didyouhearthat?”whisperedNepomucenetoGodefroid.“He’scracked,forsure,thatoldfellow.”

“Youdon’tknowwhatyoumaybeathisage.”

“Yes,Idoknow,”respondedNepomucene,“Ishallbeinthesugar-bowl.”

“Thesugar-bowl?”

“Yes, they’llhavemademybones intocharcoalby that time; IoftenseethecartsoftherefineriescomingtoMontsourisforcharcoal;theytellmetheymakesugarofit.”Andhedepartedafteranotherloadofwood,satisfiedwiththisphilosophicalreflection.

Godefroid discreetly withdrew to his own rooms, closing MonsieurBernard’sdoorbehindhim.MadameVauthier,whoduringthistimehadbeen

preparing her new lodger’s breakfast, now came up to serve it, attended byFelicite.Godefroid,lostinreflection,staredintohisfire.Hewasabsorbedinmeditationon thisgreatmiserywhich contained somanydifferentmiseries,andyetwithinwhichhecouldseetheineffablejoysofthemanytriumphsofpaternalandfiliallove;theyweregemsshiningintheblacknessofthepit.

“What romances, even those that are most famous, can equal suchrealities?” he thought. “What a life it will be to relieve the burden of suchexistences,toseekoutcausesandeffectsandremedythem,calmingsorrows,helpinggood;toincarnateone’sownbeinginmisery;tofamiliarizeone’sselfwithhomeslikethat;toactoutconstantlyinlifethosedramaswhichmoveusso in fiction! I never imagined that good could be more interesting, morepiquantthanvice.”

“Ismonsieur satisfiedwithhis breakfast?” askedMadameVauthier,whonow,withFelicite’sassistance,broughtthetableclosetoGodefroid.

Godefroidthensawacupofexcellentcafeaulaitwithasmokingomelet,freshbutter,andlittleredradishes.

“Wherethedevildidyougetthoseradishes?”heasked.

“TheyweregivenmebyMonsieurCartier,”answeredMadameVauthier;“andImakeapresentofthemtomonsieur.”

“Andwhatareyougoingtoaskmeforsuchabreakfastdaily?”

“Wellnow,monsieur,befair,—Icouldn’tdoitforlessthanthirtysous.”

“Verygood,thirtysousthen;”saidGodefroid;“buthowisitthattheyaskme only forty-five francs amonth for dinner, close by here atMachillot’s?Thatisthesamepriceyouaskmeforbreakfast.”

“Butwhatadifference,monsieur,betweenpreparingadinnerforfifteenortwentypersonsandgoingouttogetyoujustwhatyouwantforbreakfast!Seehere!there’saroll,eggs,butter,thecostoflightingafire,sugar,milk,coffee!—justthink!theyaskyousixteensousforacupofcoffeealoneontheplacede l’Odeon,and thenyouhave togivea souor two to thewaiter.Hereyouhavenotrouble;youcanbreakfastinslippers.”

“Verywell,verywell,”saidGodefroid.

“WithoutMadameCartierwhosuppliesmewithmilkandeggsandherbsIcouldn’tmanage it. You ought to go and see their establishment,monsieur.Ha!it’sfine!Theyemployfivejourneymengardeners,andNepomucenegoesthere in summer to drawwater for them; they hire him ofme as awaterer.Theymakelotsofmoneyoutofmelonsandstrawberries.Itseemsmonsieurtakesquitean interest inMonsieurBernard,”continued thewidow indulcettones;“orhewouldn’tberesponsibleforhisdebts.Perhapshedoesn’tknow

allthatfamilyowes.There’stheladywhokeepsthecirculatinglibraryontheplaceSaint-Michel;sheisalwayscominghereafterthirtyfrancstheyoweher,—andsheneeds it,Godknows!Thatsickwoman in there, she reads, reads,reads!Twosousavolumemakesthirtyfrancsinthreemonths.”

“Thatmeansahundredvolumesamonth,”saidGodefroid.

“Ah! there’s the old man going now to fetch a roll and cream for hisdaughter’stea,—yes,tea!shelivesontea,thatlady.Shedrinksittwiceaday.Andtwiceaweekshehastohavesweetthings.Oh!she’sdainty!Theoldmanbuyscakesandpatesfromthepastrycookin theruedeBuci.Hedon’tcarewhathespends,ifit’sforher.Hecallsherhisdaughter!Itain’toftenthatmenofhisagedoforadaughterwhathedoesforher!Hejustkillshimself,heandAugustetoo,forthatwoman.Monsieurisjustlikeme;I’dgiveanythingtoseeher.MonsieurBertonsaysshe’samonster,—somethinglikethosetheyshowformoney.That’sthereasonthey’vecometolivehere,inthislonelyquarter.Well,somonsieurthinksofdiningatMadameMachillot’s,doeshe?”

“Yes,Ithinkofmakinganarrangementthere.”

“Monsieur,itisn’tthatIwanttointerfere,butImustsay,comparingfoodwith food,you’ddomuchbetter todine in the ruedeTournon;youneedn’tengagebythemonth,andyou’llfindabettertable.”

“WhereaboutsintheruedeTournon?”

“AtthesuccessorstoMadameGiraud.That’swherethegentlemenupstairsgo;theyaresatisfied,andmorethansatisfied.”

“Well,I’lltakeyouradviceanddinethereto-day.”

“My dear monsieur,” said the woman, emboldened by the good-naturewhichGodefroidintentionallyassumed,“tellmeseriously,youarenotgoingtobesuchamuffastopayMonsieurBernard’sdebts?Itwouldreallytroubleme if you did; for just reflect, my kind monsieur Godefroid, he’s nearlyseventy, and after him,what then? not a penny of pension!How’ll you getpaid?Youngmenaresoimprudent!Doyouknowthatheowesthreethousandfrancs?”

“Towhom?”inquiredGodefroid.

“Oh!towhom?that’snotmyaffair,”saidthewidow,mysteriously;“it isenoughthathedoesowethem.BetweenourselvesI’lltellyouthis:somebodywillsoonbedownonhimforthatmoney,andhecan’tgetapennyofcreditnowinthequarterjustonthataccount.”

“Three thousand francs!” repeatedGodefroid; “oh, youneedn’t be afraidI’ll lendhimthat. If Ihad three thousandfrancs todisposeofIshouldn’tbeyourlodger.ButIcan’tbeartoseeotherssuffer,andjustforahundredorso

offrancsIsha’n’tletmyneighbor,amanwithwhitehairtoo,lackforbreadorwood; why, one often loses as much as that at cards. But three thousandfrancs!goodheavens!whatareyouthinkingof?”

MadameVauthier,deceivedbyGodefroid’sapparentfrankness,letasmileofsatisfactionappearonherspeciousface,whichconfirmedallher lodger’ssuspicions.Godefroidwasconvincedthat theoldwomanwasanaccompliceinsomeplotthatwasbrewingagainsttheunfortunateoldman.

“It isstrange,monsieur,”shewenton,“whatfanciesonetakesintoone’shead! You’ll thinkme very curious, but yesterday, when I saw you talkingwith Monsieur Bernard I said to myself that you were the clerk of somepublisher; for this, you know, is a publisher’s quarter. I once lodged theforeman of a printing-house in the rue deVaugirard, and his namewas thesameasyours—”

“Whatdoesmybusinesssignifytoyou?”interruptedGodefroid.

“Oh,pooh!youcantellme,oryouneedn’ttellme;Ishallknowitallthesame,” retorted Vauthier. “There’s Monsieur Bernard, for instance, foreighteenmonths he concealed everything fromme, but on the nineteenth Idiscoveredthathehadbeenamagistrate,ajudgesomewhereorother,Iforgetwhere,andwaswritingabookonlawmatters.Whatdidhegainbyconcealingit,Iaskyou.IfhehadtoldmeI’dhavesaidnothingaboutit—sothere!”

“Iamnotyetapublisher’sclerk,butIexpecttobe,”saidGodefroid.

“I thought so!”exclaimedMadameVauthier, turning round from thebedshe had beenmaking as a pretext for staying in the room. “Youhave comeheretocutthegroundfromunderthefeetof—Good!amanwarnedisamanarmed.”

“Stop!” cried Godefroid, placing himself between the Vauthier and thedoor.“Lookhere,whatinteresthaveyouinthematter?”

“Gracious!” said the oldwoman, eyeingGodefroid cautiously, “you’re aboldone,anyhow.”

Shewenttothedooroftheouterroomandboltedit;thenshecamebackandsatdownonachairbesidethefire.

“Onmywordofhonor,andassureasmynameisVauthier,ItookyouforastudentuntilIsawyougivingyourwoodtothatoldBernard.Ha!you’reaslyone;andwhataplay-actor!Iwassocertainyouwereaninny!Lookhere,willyouguaranteemea thousandfrancs?Assureas thesunshines,myoldBarbet andMonsieurMetivier have promisedme five hundred to keepmyeyesopenforthem.”

“They! five hundred francs! nonsense!” cried Godefroid. “I know their

ways; twohundred is theverymost,mygoodwoman,andeven that isonlypromised;youcan’tassignit.ButIwillsaythis:ifyouwillputmeinthewaytodothebusinesstheywanttodowithMonsieurBernardIwillpayyoufourhundredfrancs.Now,then,howdoesthematterstand?”

“Theyhaveadvancedfifteenhundredfrancsuponthework,”saidMadameVauthier,makingnofurthereffortatdeception,“andtheoldmanhassignedanacknowledgmentforthreethousand.Theywouldn’tdoitunderahundredpercent.Hethoughthecouldeasilypaythemoutofhisbook,buttheyhavearrangedtogetthebetterofhimthere.ItwastheywhosentCartierhere,andtheothercreditors.”

Here Godefroid gave the old woman a glance of ironical intelligence,whichshowedherthathesawthroughtheroleshewasplayingintheinterestofherproprietor.Herwordswere,infact,adoubleilluminationtoGodefroid;thecuriousscenebetweenhimselfandthegardenerwasnowexplained.

“Well,” she resumed, “theyhavegothimnow.Where ishe to find threethousand francs?They intend to offer him five hundred the day he puts thefirstvolumeofhisbookintotheirhands,andfivehundredforeachsucceedingvolume.The affair isn’t in their names; theyhaveput it into thehandsof apublisherwhomBarbetsetuponthequaidesAugustins.”

“What,thatlittlefellow?”

“Yes, that littleMorand,whowas formerlyBarbet’s clerk. It seems theyexpectagoodbitofmoneyoutoftheaffair.”

“There’sagoodbittospend,”saidGodefroid,withasignificantgrimace.

Justthenagentlerapwasheardatthedooroftheouterroom.Godefroid,glad of the interruption, having got all he wanted to know out ofMadameVauthier,wenttoopenit.

“What issaid, issaid,MadameVauthier,”heremarkedashedidso.ThevisitorwasMonsieurBernard.

“Ah!MonsieurBernard,”criedthewidowwhenshesawhim,“I’vegotaletterdownstairsforyou.”

The old man followed her down a few steps. When they were out ofhearingfromGodefroid’sroomshestopped.

“No,”shesaid,“Ihaven’tanyletter;Ionlywantedtotellyoutobewareofthatyoungman;hebelongstoapublishinghouse.”

“Thatexplainseverything,”thoughttheoldman.

He went back to his neighbor with a very different expression ofcountenance.

ThelookofcalmcoldnesswithwhichMonsieurBernardnowenteredtheroomcontrastedsostronglywiththefrankandcordialairhehadwornnotaninstantearlierthatGodefroidwasforciblystruckbyit.

“Pardonme,monsieur,”saidtheoldman,stiffly,“butyouhaveshownmemanyfavors,andabenefactorcreatescertainrightsinthosehebenefits.”

Godefroidbowed.

“I,whoforthelastfiveyearshaveenduredapassionlikethatofourLord,I, who for thirty-six years represented social welfare, government, publicvengeance, have, as youmaywell believe, no illusions—no, I havenothingleft but anguish. Well, monsieur, I was about to say that your little act inclosing thedoor ofmywretched lair, that simple little thing,was tome theglassofwaterBossuettellsof.Yes,Ididfindinmyheart,thatexhaustedheartwhichcannotweep, justasmywitheredbodycannotsweat, Ididfinda lastdropoftheelixirwhichmakesusfancyinouryouththatallhumanbeingsarenoble, and I came to offer youmy hand; I came to bring you that celestialflowerofbeliefingood—”

“Monsieur Bernard,” said Godefroid, remembering the kind old Alain’slessons. “I have done nothing to obtain your gratitude. You are quitemistaken.”

“Ah,thatisfranknessindeed!”saidtheformermagistrate.“Well,itpleasesme.Iwasabouttoreproachyou;pardonme,Inowesteemyou.Soyouareapublisher, and you have come here to get my work away from Barbet,Metivier,andMorand?Allisnowexplained.Youaremakingmeadvancesinmoneyastheydid,onlyyoudoitwithsomegrace.”

“DidMadameVauthierjusttellyouthatIwasemployedbyapublisher?”askedGodefroid.

“Yes.”

“Well,then,MonsieurBernard,beforeIcansayhowmuchIcangiveoverwhatthoseothergentlemenoffer,Imustknowthetermsonwhichyoustandwiththem.”

“That is fair,”saidMonsieurBernard,whoseemedratherpleased to findhimselftheobjectofacompetitionbywhichhemightprofit.“Doyouknowwhatmyworkis?”

“No;Ionlyknowitisagoodenterprisefromabusinesspointofview.”

“Itisonlyhalf-pastnine,mydaughterhasbreakfasted,andCartierwillnotbring the flowers for an hour or more; we have time to talk, Monsieur—Monsieurwho?”

“Godefroid.”

“MonsieurGodefroid,theworkinquestionwasprojectedbymein1825,at the timewhen theministry,beingalarmedby thepersistentdestructionoflanded estates, proposed that law of primogeniture which was, you willremember,defeated.IhadremarkedcertainimperfectionsinourcodesandinthefundamentalinstitutionsofFrance.Ourcodeshaveoftenbeenthesubjectof important works, but those works were all from the point of view ofjurisprudence. No one had even ventured to consider the work of theRevolution,or(ifyoupreferit)ofNapoleon,asawhole;noonehadstudiedthespiritofthoselaws,andjudgedthemintheirapplication.Thatisthemainpurposeofmywork;itisentitled,provisionally,‘TheSpiritoftheNewLaws;’it includesorganic lawsaswellascodes,allcodes; forwehavemanymorethanfivecodes.Consequently,myworkis inseveralvolumes;sixinall, thelast being a volume of citations, notes, and references. Itwill takeme nowabout three months to finish it. The proprietor of this house, a formerpublisher,ofwhomImadeafewinquiries,perceived,scentedImaysay,thechanceofaspeculation.I,inthefirstinstance,thoughtonlyofdoingaservicetomycountry,andnotofmyownprofit.Well,thisBarbethascircumventedme.Youwillaskmehowitwaspossibleforapublishertogetthebetterofamagistrate,amanwhoknowsthelaws.Well,itwasinthisway:Youknowmyhistory;Barbetisanusurer;hehasthekeenglanceandtheshrewdactionofthat breed ofmen.Hismoneywas always atmy heels to helpme overmyworstneeds.Strangetosay,onthedaysIwasmostdefencelessagainstdespairhehappenedtoappear.”

“No, no,my dearMonsieur Bernard,” saidGodefroid, “he had a spy inMadameVauthier;she toldhimwhenyouneededmoney.But the terms, theconditions?Tellthemtomebriefly.”

“Hehaslentmefromtimetotimefifteenhundredfrancs,forwhichIhavesignedthreenotesofathousandfrancseach,andthosenotesaresecuredbyasortofmortgageonthecopyrightofmybook,sothatIcannotsellmybookunless Ipayoff thosenotes,and thenotesarenowprotested,—hehas takenthe matter into court and obtained a judgment against me. Such are thecomplicationsofpoverty!Atthelowestvaluation,thefirsteditionofmygreatwork, awork representing ten years’ toil and thirty-six years’ experience, isfullyworthtenthousandfrancs.Well,tendaysagoMorandproposedtogiveme three thousand francs and my notes cancelled for the entire rights inperpetuity.Nowasitisnotpossibleformetorefundtheamountofmynotesandinterest,namely, three thousandtwohundredandfortyfrancs, Imust,—unless you intend to step between those usurers and me,—I must yield tothem. They are not content withmyword of honor; they first obtained thenotes,thentheyhadthemprotested,andnowIamthreatenedwitharrestfor

debt. If I could manage to pay them back, those scoundrels would havedoubledtheirmoney.IfIaccepttheirtermstheywillmakeafortuneoutofmybookandIshallgetalmostnothing;oneof themisapaper-maker,andGodknowshowtheymaykeepdownthecostsofpublication.Theywillhavemyname,andthatalonewillselltenthousandcopiesforthem.”

“But,monsieur,howcouldyou,aformermagistrate!—”

“HowcouldIhelpit?Notafriend,notaclaimthatIcouldmake!AndyetI saved many heads, if I made some fall! And, then, my daughter, mydaughter!whosenurseIam,whosecompanionImustbe;sothatIcanworkbutafewhourssnatchedfromsleep.Ah,youngman!nonebutthewretchedcanjudgethewretched!SometimesIthinkIusedtobetoosterntomisery.”

“Monsieur,Idonotaskyourname.Icannotprovidethreethousandfrancs,especiallyifIpayHalpersohnandyourlesserdebts;butIwillsaveyouifyouwill promise me not to part with your book without lettingme know. It isimpossibleformetoarrangeamatterasimportantasthiswithoutconsultingothers.My backers are powerful, and I can promise you success if you, inreturn,willpromisemeabsolutesecrecy,eventoyourchildren,andkeepyourpromise.”

“Theonly success I care for is the recoveryofmypoorVanda; for suchsufferings as hers extinguish every other feeling in a father’s heart. As forfame,whatisthattoonewhoseesanopengravebeforehim?”

“Iwillcomeandseeyouthisevening;theyexpectHalpersohnatanytime,andIshallgotheredayafterdayuntilIfindhim.”

“Ah,monsieur! if you should be the cause ofmy daughter’s recovery, Iwouldlike,—yes,Iwouldliketogiveyoumywork!”

“Monsieur,”saidGodefroid,“Iamnotapublisher.”

Theoldmanstartedwithsurprise.

“I let that oldVauthier think so in order to discover the traps theywerelayingforyou.”

“Thenwhoareyou?”

“Godefroid,” replied the initiate; “and since you allow me to offer youenough to make the pot boil, you can call me, if you like, Godefroid deBouillon.”

Theoldmanwasfartoomovedtolaughatajoke.HeheldouthishandtoGodefroid,andpressedthatwhichtheyoungmangavehiminreturn.

“Youwish tokeepyour incognito?”he said, looking atGodefroid sadly,withsomeuneasiness.

“Ifyouwillallowit.”

“Well, as youwill.Come to-night, andyou shall seemydaughter if herconditionpermits.”

Thiswasevidentlyagreatconcessionintheeyesofthepoorfather,andhehad the satisfaction of seeing, by the look on Godefroid’s face, that it wasunderstood.

Anhourlater,Cartierreturnedwithanumberofbeautifulfloweringplants,which he placed himself in the jardinieres, covering themwith freshmoss.Godefroidpaidhisbill;alsothatofthecirculatinglibrary,whichwasbroughtsoon after. Books and flowers!—these were the daily bread of this poorinvalid,thistorturedcreature,whowassatisfiedwithsolittle.

Ashethoughtofthisfamily,coiledbymisfortuneslikethatoftheLaocoon(sublime image of somany lives),Godefroid,whowas now on hisway onfoot to the rueMarbeuf, was conscious in his heart of more curiosity thanbenevolence. This sick woman, surrounded by luxury in the midst of suchdireful poverty, made him forget the horrible details of the strangest of allnervousdisorders,whichishappilyrare,thoughrecordedbyafewhistorians.Oneofourmostgossipingchroniclers,TallemantdesReaux,citesaninstanceofit.Themindinstinctivelypicturesawomanasbeingelegantinthemidstofher worst sufferings; and Godefroid let himself dwell on the pleasure ofentering that chamber where none but the father, son, and doctor had beenadmitted for six years. Nevertheless, he ended by blaming himself for hiscuriosity.Heevenfeltthatthesentiment,naturalasitwas,wouldceaseashewentonexercisinghisbeneficentministry,fromthemerefactofseeingmoredistressedhomesandmanysorrows.

Suchagentsdoreachintimeadivineserenitywhichnothingsurprisesorconfounds;justasinlovewecometothedivinequietudeofthatemotion,sureof its strength, sureof its lastingness, throughourconstantexperienceof itspainsandsweetnesses.

GodefroidwastoldthatHalpersohnhadreturnedduringthenight,buthadbeenobliged togooutatonce tovisitpatientswhowereawaitinghim.TheportertoldGodefroidtocomethenextdaybeforenineo’clockinthemorning.

RememberingMonsieur Alain’s injunction to parsimony in his personalexpenses,Godefroiddinedfortwenty-fivesousintheruedeTournon,andwasrewarded for his abnegation by finding himself in themidst of compositorsandpressmen.Heheardadiscussiononcostsofmanufacturing,and learnedthataneditionofonethousandcopiesofanoctavovolumeoffortysheetsdidnotcostmorethanthirtysousacopy,inthebeststyleofprinting.Heresolvedtoascertainthepriceatwhichpublishersoflawbookssoldtheirvolumes,so

astobepreparedforadiscussionwiththemenwhoheldMonsieurBernardintheirclutchesifheshouldhavetomeetthem.

Towards seven in the evening he returned to the boulevard du Mont-Parnasse,bywayoftheruedeVaugiraudandtheruedel’Ouest,andhesawthenhowdesertedthequarterwas,forhemetnoone.It istruethatthecoldwas rigorous, and the snow fell in great flakes, thewheels of the carriagesmakingnonoiseuponthepavements.

“Ah,hereyouare,monsieur!”saidMadameVauthier.“IfIhadknownyouwerecominghomesoearlyIwouldhavemadeyourfire.”

“Idon’twantone,”saidGodefroid,seeingthatthewidowfollowedhim.“IshallspendtheeveninginMonsieurBernard’sapartment.”

“Well,well!youmustbehiscousin, ifyouarehandandglove like that!Perhapsmonsieurwillfinishnowthelittleconversationwebegan.”

“Ah,yes!—about thatfourhundredfrancs.Lookhere,mygoodMadameVauthier, you are trying to seewhichway the cat jumps, and you’ll tumbleyourselfbetweentwostools.Asforme,youhavebetrayedme,andmadememissthewholeaffair.”

“Now,don’tthinkthat,mydearmonsieur.To-morrow,whileyoubreakfast—”

“To-morrowIshallnotbreakfasthere.Iamgoingout,likeyourauthors,atcock-crow.”

Godefroid’s antecedents, his life as aman of theworld and a journalist,servedhiminthis,thathefeltquitesure,unlesshetookthistone,thatBarbet’sspy would warn the old publisher of danger, and probably lead to activemeasures under which Monsieur Bernard would before long be arrested;whereas,ifheleftthetrioofharpiestosupposethattheirschemerannoriskofdefeat,theywouldkeepquiet.

ButGodefroiddidnotyetknowParisianhumannaturewhenembodiedinaVauthier.ThatwomanresolvedtohaveGodefroid’smoneyandBarbet’stoo.Sheinstantlyranofftoherproprietor,whileGodefroidchangedhisclothesinordertopresenthimselfproperlybeforethedaughterofMonsieurBernard.

XV.ANEVENINGWITHVANDA

Eighto’clockwasstrikingfromtheconventoftheVisitation,theclockofthe quarter, when the inquisitive Godefroid tapped gently at his neighbor’s

door.Augusteopenedit.AsithappenedtobeaSaturday, theyoungladhadhis evening to himself. Godefroid beheld him in a little sack-coat of blackvelvet, a blue silk cravat, andblack trousers.But his surprise at the youth’sappearance,sodifferentfromthatofthisoutsidelife,ceasedassoonashehadenteredtheinvalid’schamber.Hethenunderstoodthereasonwhybothfatherandsonwerewelldressed.

Foramoment thecontrastbetween thesqualorof theother rooms,ashehadseenthemthatmorning,andtheluxuryofthischamber,wassogreatthatGodefroidwasdazzled,thoughhabituatedforyearstotheluxuryandeleganceprocuredbywealth.

The walls of the room were hung with yellow silk, relieved by twistedfringesofabrightgreen,givingagayandcheerfulaspecttothechamber,thecoldtiledfloorofwhichwashiddenbyamoquettecarpetwithawhitegroundstrewnwith flowers.Thewindows, drapedbyhandsomecurtains linedwithwhitesilk,werelikeconservatories,sofullweretheyofplantsinflower.Theblindswerelowered,whichpreventedthisluxury,sorareinthatquarterofthetown, frombeing seen from the street.Thewoodworkwaspainted inwhiteenamel,touchedup,hereandthere,byafewgoldlines.

At the door was a heavy portiere, embroidered by hand with fantasticfoliageonayellowground,sothickthatallsoundsfromwithoutwerestifled.This magnificent curtain was made by the sick woman herself, who couldwork,whenshehadtheuseofherhands,likeafairy.

Atthefartherendoftheroom,andoppositetothedoor,wasthefireplace,withagreenvelvetmantel-shelf,onwhichafewextremelyelegantornaments,thelastrelicsoftheopulenceoftwofamilies,werearranged.Theseconsistedof a curious clock, in the shape of an elephant supporting on its back aporcelaintowerwhichwasfilledwiththechoicestflowers;twocandelabrainthesamestyle,andseveralpreciousChinese treasures.Thefender,andirons,tongs,andshovelwereallofthehandsomestdescription.

Thelargestoftheflower-standswasplacedinthemiddleoftheroom,andaboveithungaporcelainchandelierdesignedwithwreathsofflowers.

Thebedonwhich theoldman’sdaughter laywasoneof thosebeautifulwhiteandgoldcarvedbedsteadssuchasweremadeintheLouisXV.period.Bythesickwoman’spillowwasaveryprettymarquetrytable,onwhichwerethe various articles necessary to this bedridden life.Against thewallwas abracket lampwithtwobranches,eitherofwhichcouldbemovedforwardorback by amere touch of the hand.A small table, adapted to the use of theinvalid, extended in front of her. The bed, covered with a beautifulcounterpane, anddrapedwith curtains held backby cords,was heapedwithbooks, a work-basket, and articles of embroidery, beneath which Godefroid

wouldscarcelyhavedistinguishedthesickwomanherselfhaditnotbeenforthelightofthebracketlamps.

There was nothing of her to be seen but a face of extreme whiteness,browned around the eyes by suffering, in which shone eyes of fire, itsprincipal adornment being a magnificent mass of black hair, the numerousheavy curls ofwhich, carefully arranged, showed that the dressing of thosebeautifullocksoccupiedagoodpartoftheinvalid’smorning.Thissuppositionwasfurtherstrengthenedbytheportablemirrorwhichlayonthebed.

No modern arrangement for comfort was lacking. Even a few knick-knacks,whichamusedpoorVanda,proved that the father’s lovewasalmostfanatical.

The old man rose from an elegant Louis XV. sofa in white and cold,coveredwith tapestry, and advanced toGodefroid,whowould certainly nothave recognized him elsewhere; for that cold, stern face nowwore the gayexpression peculiar to old men of the world, who retain the manners andapparentfrivolityofthenobilityaboutacourt.Hiswaddedvioletgownwasinkeeping with this luxury, and he took snuff from a gold box studded withdiamonds.

“Here,mydeardaughter,”saidMonsieurBernard,takingGodefroidbythehand,“istheneighborofwhomItoldyou.”

Hesignedtohisgrandsontodrawuponeoftwoarmchairs,similarinstyletothesofa,whichstoodbesidethefireplace.

“Monsieur’snameisGodefroid,andheisfulloffriendlykindnessforus.”

VandamadeamotionwithherheadinanswertoGodefroid’slowbow;bytheverywayinwhichherneckbentandthenrecovereditself,Godefroidsawthatthewholephysicallifeoftheinvalidwasinherhead.Thethinarmsandflaccid hands lay on the fine, white linen of the sheets, like things notconnectedwith thebody,which, indeed,seemed to fillnoplaceatall in thebed.Thearticlesnecessaryforasickpersonwereonshelvesstandingbehindthebedstead,andwereconcealedbyadrawncurtain.

“Youarethefirstperson,monsieur,—exceptmydoctors,whoarenotmento me,—whom I have seen for six years; therefore you cannot doubt theinterestyouhaveexcited inmymind, sincemy father toldme thismorningthat you were to pay me a visit—interest! no, it was an unconquerablecuriosity, like thatofourmotherEve.Myfather,whoissogoodtome,andmyson,whomIlovesomuch,docertainlysufficetofillthedesertofasoulwhichisalmostwithoutabody;butafterall,thatsoulisstillawoman’s;Ifeelitinthechildishjoythethoughtofyourvisithasbroughtme.Youwilldomethepleasuretotakeacupofteawithus,Ihope?”

“Monsieurhaspromisedtopasstheeveninghere,”saidtheoldman,withtheairofamillionnairereceivingaguest.

Auguste, sitting on a tapestried chair at a marquetry table with brasstrimmings,wasreadingabookbythelightofthecandelabraonthechimneypiece.

“Auguste, my dear,” said his mother, “tell Jean to serve tea in an hour.Would you believe itmonsieur,” she added, “that for six years I have beenwaiteduponwhollybymyfatherandson,andnow,Ireallythink,Icouldbearnootherattendance. If theywere to failmeIshoulddie.MyfatherwillnotevenallowJean,apoorNormanwhohasservedusforthirtyyears, tocomeintomyroom.”

“Ishouldthinknot!”saidtheoldman,quickly;“monsieurknowshim;hechopswoodandbringsitin,andcooks;hewearsdirtyaprons,andwouldsoonspoilallthiseleganceinwhichyoutakesuchpleasure—thisroomisreallythewholeoflifetomypoordaughter,monsieur.”

“Ah!madame,yourfatherisquiteright.”

“Butwhy?”shesaid;“ifJeandidanydamagetomyroommyfatherwouldrestoreit.”

“Yes,mychild;butrememberyoucouldnotleaveit;youdon’tknowwhatParisiantradesmenare;theywouldtakethreemonthstorenovateyourroom.LetJeantakecareof it?no, indeed!howcanyouthinkof it?AugusteandItakesuchprecautionsthatweallownodust,andsoavoidallsweeping.”

“It is a matter of health, not economy,” said Godefroid; “your father isright.”

“Iamnotcomplaining,”saidVanda,inacaressingvoice.

Thatvoicewasaconcertofdelightfulsounds.Soul,motion,lifeitselfwereconcentrated in the glance and in the voice of this woman; for Vanda hadsucceeded by study, for which time was certainly not lacking to her, inconqueringthedifficultyproducedbythelossofherteeth.

“Ihavemuchtomakemehappyinthemidstofmysufferings,monsieur,”shesaid;“andcertainlyamplemeansareagreathelpinbearingtrouble.IfwehadbeenpoorIshouldhavediedeighteenyearsago,butIstilllive.Oh,yes,Ihave many enjoyments, and they are all the greater because they areperpetuallywon fromdeath. Iamafraidyouwill thinkmequitegarrulous,”sheadded,smiling.

“Madame, I should like to listen to you forever,” replied Godefroid; “Ihaveneverheardavoicethatwascomparabletoyours;itismusic;Rubiniisnotmoreenchanting.”

“Don’tspeakofRubinior theopera,”said theoldman,sadly.“That isapleasurethat,richasIam,Icannotgivetomydaughter.Shewasonceagreatmusician,andtheoperawashergreatestpleasure.”

“Forgiveme,”saidGodefroid.

“Youwillsoongetaccustomedtous,”saidtheoldman.

“Yes, and this is the process,” said the sick woman, laughing; “whenthey’ve cried ‘puss, puss, puss,’ often enough you’ll learn the puss-in-the-cornerofourconversations.”

GodefroidgavearapidglanceatMonsieurBernard,who,seeingthetearsintheeyesofhisnewneighbor,seemedtobemakinghimasignnottoundotheresultsoftheself-commandheandhisgrandsonhadpractisedforsomanyyears.

Thissublimeandperpetualimposture,provedbythecompleteillusionofthesickwoman,producedonGodefroid’smind the impressionofanAlpineprecipicedownwhichtwochamoishunterspickedtheirway.Themagnificentgold snuff-box enriched with diamonds with which the old man carelesslytoyedashesatbyhisdaughter’sbedsidewaslikethestrokeofgeniuswhichintheworkofagreatmanelicitsacryofadmiration.Godefroidlookedatthatsnuff-box,wondering it hadnot been sold or found itsway to themont-de-piete.

“This evening, Monsieur Godefroid, my daughter received theannouncement of your visit with such excitement that all the curioussymptomsofhermaladywhichhavetroubledusverymuchforthelasttwelvedayshaveentirelydisappeared.YoucanfancyhowgratefulIamtoyou.”

“And I, too,” said the invalid in her caressing tones, drooping her headwithamotionfullofcoquetry.“Monsieur is tomeadeputyfromtheworld.SinceIwastwentyyearsold,monsieur,Ihavenotseenasalon,oraparty,oraball.AndImusttellyouthatIlovedancing,andadorethetheatre,especiallytheopera.I imagineeverythingbythought!Ireadagreatdeal;andthenmyfather,whogoesintosociety,tellsmeaboutsocialevents.”

Godefroidmadean involuntarymovementas if tokneelat theoldman’sfeet.

“Yes,whenhegoestotheopera,andheoftengoes,hedescribestomethesingingandtellsmeaboutthedressesoftheladies.Oh!IwouldIwerecuredforthesakeofmyfather,wholivessolelyformeasIlivebyhimandforhim,and thenformyson, towhomIwouldfainbea realmother.Ah!monsieur,whatblessedbeingsmyoldfatherandmygoodsonare!IshouldalsoliketorecoversoastohearLablache,Rubini,Tamburini,Grisi,and‘IPuritani.’But

—”

“Come,come,mychild,becalm!Ifwetalkmusicweare lost!”said theoldman,smiling.

That smile, which rejuvenated his face, was evidently a perpetualdeceptiontothesickwoman.

“Yes,yes, I’ll begood,” saidVanda,withapetulant little air; “butwhenwillyougivemeanaccordion?”

Theportableinstrumentthencalledbythatnamehadjustbeeninvented.Itcould, if desired, be placed at the edge of a bedstead, and only needed thepressureofa foot togiveout thesoundsofanorgan.This instrument, in itshighestdevelopment,wasequaltoapiano;butthecostofitwasthreehundredfrancs.Vanda,whoreadthenewspapersandreviews,knewoftheexistenceoftheinstrument,andhadwishedforoneforthelasttwomonths.

“Yes, madame, you shall have one,” said Godefroid, after exchanging alookwiththeoldman.“AfriendofminewhoisjuststartingforAlgiershasafineinstrumentandIwillborrowitofhim.Beforebuying,youhadbettertryone.Itispossiblethatthepowerful,vibratingtonesmaybetoomuchforyou.”

“CanIhaveitto-morrow?”shesaid,withthewilfulnessofacreole.

“To-morrow?”saidMonsieurBernard,“thatissoon;besides,to-morrowisSunday.”

“Ah—”sheexclaimed,lookingatGodefroid,whofanciedhecouldseeasoulhoveringintheairasheadmiredtheubiquityofVanda’sglances.

Untilthen,Godefroidhadneverknownthepowerofvoiceandeyeswhenthewholeoflifeisputintothem.Theglancewasnolongeraglance,alook,itwasaflame,orrather,adivineincandescence,aradiance,communicatinglifeand mind,—it was thought made visible. The voice, with its thousandintonations,tooktheplaceofmotions,gestures,attitudes.Thevariationsofthecomplexion, changing color like the famous chameleon, made the illusion,perhapsweshouldsaythemirage,complete.Thatsufferingheadlyingonthewhitepillowedgedwithlaceswasawholepersoninitself.

Never in his life had Godefroid seen so wonderful a sight; he couldscarcelycontrolhis emotions.Anotherwonder, for allwaswondrous in thisscene, so full of horror andyet of poesy,was that in thosewho saw it soulalone existed. This atmosphere, filled with mental emotions only, had acelestialinfluence.Thosepresentfelttheirbodiesaslittleasthesickwomanfelthers.Theywereallmind.AsGodefroidcontemplatedthatfrailfragmentof woman he forgot the surrounding elegancies of the room, and fanciedhimselfbeneaththeopenheavens.Itwasnotuntilhalfanhourhadpassedthat

hecamebacktohissenseofthingsabouthim;hethennoticedafinepicture,whichtheinvalidaskedhimtoexamine,sayingitwasbyGericault.

“Gericault,” she told him, “came from Rouen; his family were undercertain obligations to my father, who was president of the court, and heshowed his gratitude by painting that portrait of me when I was a girl ofsixteen.”

“It is a beautiful picture,” saidGodefroid; “and quite unknown to thosewhoareinsearchoftherareworksofthatmaster.”

“Tome it ismerely anobjectof affection,” repliedVanda; “I live inmyheartonly,—anditisabeautifullife,”sheadded,castingalookatherfatherinwhichsheseemedtoputherverysoul.“Ah!monsieur,ifyouonlyknewwhatmyfatherreally is!Whowouldbelievethat thesternandloftymagistrate towhom theEmperorwasunder suchobligations that hegavehim that snuff-box,andonwhomCharlesX.bestowedasarewardthatSevrestea-setwhichyouseebehindyou,whowouldsupposethatthatrigidsupporterofpowerandlaw, that learned jurist, should have within his heart of rock the heart of amother,too?Oh!papa,papa!kissme,kissme!come!”

Theoldmanrose,leanedoverthebedandkissedthebroadpoeticforeheadofhisdaughter,whosepassionateexcitementsdidnotalwaystaketheturnofthis tempest of affection. Then he walked about the room; his slippers,embroideredbyhisdaughter,makingnonoise.

“Whatareyouroccupations?”saidVandatoGodefroid,afterapause.

“Madame,Iamemployedbypiouspersonstohelptheunfortunate.”

“Ah! what a noble mission, monsieur!” she said. “Do you know thethoughtofdevotingmyself to thatveryworkhasoftencometome?butah!what ideas do not come to me?” she added, with a motion of her head.“Sufferingislikeatorchwhichlightsuplife.IfIwereevertorecoverhealth—”

“Youshouldamuseyourself,mychild,”saidherfather.

“Ohyes!”shesaid;“Ihavethedesire,butshouldIthenhavethefaculty?Mysonwillbe, Ihopeamagistrate,worthyofhis twograndfathers,andhewillleaveme.WhatshouldIdothen?IfGodrestoresmetolifeIwilldedicatethat life toHim—oh!aftergivingyouallyouneedof it,”shecried, lookingtenderlyatherfatherandson.“Therearemoments,mydearfather,whentheideasofMonsieurdeMaistreworkwithinmepowerfully,and I fancy that Iamexpiatingsomething.”

“Seewhatitistoreadtoomuch!”saidtheoldman,evidentlytroubled.

“That bravePolishgeneral,mygreat grandfather, tookpart, thoughvery

innocently,inthepartitionofPoland.”

“Well,well!nowitisPoland!”saidMonsieurBernard.

“HowcanIhelpit,papa?mysufferingsareinfernal;theygivemeahorroroflife,theydisgustmewithmyself.Well,Iaskyou,haveIdoneanythingtodeserve them?Suchdiseasesarenotamerederangementofhealth, theyarecausedbyapervertedorganizationand—”

“Singthatnationalairyourpoormotherusedtosing;MonsieurGodefroidwants to hear it; I have told him about your voice,” said the old man,endeavoringtodistracthermindfromthecurrentofsuchthoughts.

Vandabegan,inalowandtendervoice,tosingaPolishsongwhichheldGodefroiddumbwithadmirationandalsowithsadness.Thismelody,whichgreatly resembles the long drawn outmelancholy airs ofBrittany, is one ofthosepoemswhichvibrateintheheartlongaftertheearhasheardthem.Ashelistened, Godefroid looked at Vanda, but he could not endure the ecstaticglanceofthatfragmentofawoman,partiallyinsane,andhiseyeswanderedtotwocordswhichhungoneoneachsideofthecanopyofthebed.

“Ahha!” laughedVanda, noticing his look, “do youwant to knowwhatthosecordsarefor?”

“Vanda!” said her father, hastily, “calmyourself,mydaughter. See! herecomes tea.That,monsieur,” he continued, turning toGodefroid, “is rather acostlyaffair.Mydaughtercannotrise,andthereforeitisdifficulttochangehersheets. Those cords are fastened to pulleys; by slipping a square of leatherbeneathheranddrawingitupbythefourcornerswiththesepulleys,weareabletomakeherbedwithoutfatiguetoherortoourselves.”

“Theyswingme!”criedVanda,gaily.

Happily,Augustenowcameinwithateapot,whichheplacedonatable,togetherwith the Sevres tea-set; then he brought cakes and sandwiches andcream.This sight diverted hismother’smind from the nervous crisiswhichseemedtothreatenher.

“See,Vanda,hereisNathan’snewnovel.Ifyouwakeinthenightyouwillhavesomethingtoread.”

“Oh! delightful! ‘La Perle de Dol;’ it must be a love-story,—Auguste, Ihavesomethingtotellyou!I’mtohaveanaccordion!”

Augustelookedupsuddenlywithastrangeglanceathisgrandfather.

“See how he loves his mother!” cried Vanda. “Come and kiss me, mykitten.No, it isnotyourgrandfatheryouare to thank,butmonsieur,who isgoodenoughtolendmeone.Iamtohaveitto-morrow.Howaretheymade,

monsieur?”

Godefroid, at a sign from theoldman,explainedanaccordionat length,while sipping the tea which Auguste brought him and which was in truth,exquisite.

About half-past ten o’clock he retired,weary of beholding the desperatestruggle of the son and father, admiring their heroism, and the daily, hourlypatiencewithwhichtheyplayedtheirdoubleparts,eachequallyexhausting.

“Well,” saidMonsieurBernard,who followedhimhome, “younow see,monsieur,thelifeIlive.Iamlikeathief,onthewatchallthetime.Aword,agesturemightkillmydaughter;ameregewgawlessthansheisaccustomedtoseeingaboutherwouldrevealalltothatmindthatcanpenetrateeverything.”

“Monsieur,” replied Godefroid, “on Monday next Halpersohn shallpronounceuponyourdaughter.Hehasreturned.Imyselfdoubtthepossibilityofanysciencebeingabletorevivethatbody.”

“Oh!Idon’texpectthat,”criedthefather;“allIaskisthatherlifebemadesupportable.I feltsure,monsieur,ofyoursympathy,andIsee thatyouhaveindeed comprehended everything—Ah! there’s the attack coming on!” heexclaimed,asthesoundofacrycamethroughthepartition;“shewentbeyondherstrength.”

Pressing Godefroid’s hand, the old man hurriedly returned to his ownrooms.

At eight o’clock the nextmorningGodefroid knocked at the door of thecelebratedPolish doctor.Hewas shownby a footman to the first floor of alittlehouseGodefroidhadbeenexaminingwhile theporterwasseekingandinformingthefootman.

Happily,Godefroid’searlyarrivalsavedhimtheannoyanceofbeingkeptwaiting.Hewas,hesupposed, thefirstcomer.Fromaveryplainandsimpleantechamber he passed into a large study, where he saw an old man in adressing-gownsmokingalongpipe.Thedressing-gown,ofblackbombazine,shinywithuse,datedfromtheperiodofthePolishemigration.

“WhatcanIdoforyou?”saidtheJewishdoctor,“forIseeyouarenotill.”And he fixed on his visitor a look which had the inquisitive, piercingexpressionoftheeyesofaPolishJew,eyeswhichseemtohaveearsoftheirown.

Halpersohn was, to Godefroid’s great astonishment, a man of fifty-sixyearsofage,withsmallbow-legs,andabroad,powerfulchestandshoulders.Therewas somethingoriental about theman, andhis face in its youthmusthave been very handsome. The nose was Hebraic, long and curved like a

Damascusblade.Theforehead,trulyPolish,broadandnoble,butcreasedlikea bit of crumpled paper, resembled that given by the old Italianmasters toSaintJoseph.Theeyes,ofasea-green,andcircled,likethoseofparrots,withagray and wrinkled membrane, expressed slyness and avarice in an eminentdegree.Themouth, gashed into the face like awound, added to the alreadysinisterexpressionofthecountenanceallthesarcasmofdistrust.

Thatpale, thin face, forHalpersohn’swholepersonwasremarkably thin,surmountedbyill-keptgrayhair,endedinalongandverythick,blackbeard,slightlytouchedwithwhite,whichhidfullyhalftheface,sothatnothingwasreallyseenofitbuttheforehead,nose,eyes,cheek-bones,andmouth.

This friend of the revolutionist Lelewel wore a black velvet cap whichcame to a point on the brow, and took a high light worthy of the touch ofRembrandt.

The question of the physician (who has since become so celebrated, asmuch for his genius as for his avarice) caused some surprise inGodefroid’smind,andhesaidtohimself:—

“Iwonderifhetakesmeforathief.”

Theanswertothismentalquestionwasonthedoctor’stableandfireplace.Godefroidthoughthewasthefirsttoarrive;hewasreallythelast.Precedingclients had left large offerings behind them; among themGodefroid noticedpilesoftwentyandforty-francgoldpiecesandtwonotesofathousandfrancseach.Couldthatbetheproductofonemorning?Hedoubtedit,andsuspectedthePoleofintentionaltrickery.Perhapsthegraspingbutinfallibledoctortookthis method of showing his clients, mostly rich persons, that gold must bedroppedintohispouch,andnotbuttons.

Moses Halpersohn was, undoubtedly, largely paid, for he cured, and hecuredpreciselythosedesperatediseaseswhichsciencedeclaresincurable.Itisnotknown inEurope that theSlav racespossessmany secrets.Theyhaveacollection of sovereign remedies, the fruits of their connection with theChinese, Persians, Cossacks, Turks, and Tartars. Certain peasant women inPoland,whopassforwitches,cureinsanityradicallywiththejuiceofherbs.Avast body of observation, not codified, exists in Poland on the effects ofcertain plants, and certain barks of trees reduced to powder, which aretransmittedfromfathertoson,andfamilytofamily,producingcuresthatarealmostmiraculous.

Halpersohn,whoforfiveorsixyearswascalledaquackonaccountofhispowdersandherbmedicines,hadtheinnatescienceofagreatphysician.Notonlyhadhestudiedmuchandobservedmuch,buthehad travelled ineverypartofGermany,Russia,Persia,andTurkey,whencehehadgatheredmanya

traditionary secret; andasheknewchemistryhebecamea livingvolumeofthosewonderful recipes scattered among thewisewomen, or, as theFrenchcall them, the bonnes femmes, of every land to which his feet had gone,followinghisfather,aperambulatingtrader.

It must not be thought that the scene in “The Talisman” where Saladincures the King of England is a fiction. Halpersohn possesses a silk pursewhichhesteepsinwatertilltheliquidisslightlycolored;certainfeversyieldimmediatelywhenthepatienthasdrunktheprescribeddoseofit.Thevirtueofplants, according to hisman, is infinite, and the cure of the worst diseasespossible.Nevertheless,he,liketherestofhisprofessionalbrethren,stopsshortat certain incomprehensibilities. Halpersohn approved of the invention ofhomoeopathy,moreonaccountofitstherapeuticsthanforitsmedicalsystem;he was corresponding at this time with Hedenius of Dresden, Chelius ofHeidelburg,andthecelebratedGermandoctors,allthewhileholdinghishandclosed,thoughitwasfullofdiscoveries.Hewishedfornopupils.

Theframewas inkeepingwith thisembodimentofaRembrandtpicture.The study,hungwithapaper imitatinggreenvelvet,was shabbily furnishedwith a green divan, the cover of which was threadbare. A worn-out greencarpetwasonthefloor.Alargearmchairofblackleather,intendedforclients,stoodbeforethewindow,whichwasdrapedwithgreencurtains.AdeskchairofRomanshape,madeinmahoganyandcoveredwithgreenmorocco,wasthedoctor’sownseat.

Betweenthefireplaceandthelongtableatwhichhewrote,acommonironsafe stood against the wall, and on it was a clock of Viennese granite,surmountedbyagroupinbronzerepresentingCupidplayingwithDeath,thepresentofagreatGermansculptorwhomHalpersohnhaddoubtlesscured.Onthemantel-shelfwasavasebetweentwocandlesticks,andnootherornament.Oneither sideof thedivanwerecorner-buffetsofebony,holdingplatesanddishes, and Godefroid also noticed upon them two silver bowls, glassdecanters,andnapkins.

This simplicity, which amounted almost to bareness struck Godefroid,whosequickeyetookitallinasherecoveredhisself-possession.

“Monsieur,Iam,asyousay,perfectlywellmyself;Ihavecomeonbehalfofawomantowhomyouwereaskedtopayavisitsometimeago.ShelivesontheboulevardduMont-Parnasse.”

“Ah!yes;theladywhohassenthersonhereseveraltimes.Well,monsieur,lethercomeheretome.”

“Come here!” repeated Godefroid, indignantly. “Monsieur, she cannotevenbemovedfromherbedtoachair;theyliftherwithpulleys.”

“You are not a physician, I suppose?” said the Jewish doctor, with asingulargrimacewhichmadehisfaceappearmorewickedthanitreallywas.

“IftheBarondeNucingensentwordthathewasillandwantedyoutovisithim,wouldyoureply,‘Lethimcomeheretome’?”

“Ishouldgotohim,”saidtheJew,coldly,spittingintoaDutchpotmadeofmahoganyandfullofsand.

“Youwouldgo,”saidGodefroid,gently,“becausetheBarondeNucingenhastwomillionsayear,and—”

“Theresthasnothingtodowiththematter;Ishouldgo.”

“Well, monsieur, you must go to the lady on the boulevard du Mont-Parnasseforthesamereason.WithoutpossessingthefortuneoftheBaronduNucingen, I amhere to tellyou thatyoumayyourselfput apriceupon thislady’s cure, or upon your attendance if you fail; I am ready to pay it inadvance.Butperhaps,monsieur,asyouareaPolishrefugeeand,Ibelieve,acommunist, the lady’s parentage may induce you to make a sacrifice toPoland. She is the granddaughter of Colonel Tarlowski, the friend ofPoniatowski.”

“Monsieur,youcameheretoaskmetocurethatlady,andnottogivemeadvice.InPolandIamaPole;inParisIamParisian.Everymandoesgoodinhisownway;thegreedwithwhichIamcreditedisnotwithoutitsmotive.ThewealthIamamassinghasitsdestination; it isasacredone.Isellhealth; therich can afford to purchase it, and I make them pay. The poor have theirdoctors. If Ihadnotapurpose inviewIwouldnotpractisemedicine. I livesoberly and I spend my time in rushing hither and thither; my naturalinclinationis tobe lazy,andIusedtobeagambler.Drawyourconclusions,youngman.Youaretooyoungstilltojudgeoldmen.”

Godefroidwassilent.

“From what you say,” went on the doctor, “the lady in question is thegranddaughterof that imbecilewhohadnocouragebut thatof fighting,andwhotookpartindeliveringoverhiscountrytoCatherineII?”

“Yes,monsieur.”

“Well, be at her houseMonday next at three o’clock,” saidHalpersohn,takingoutanote-bookinwhichhewroteafewwords.“Youwillgivemethentwohundredfrancs;andifIpromisetocurethepatientyouwillgivemethreethousand.Iamtold,”headded,“thattheladyhasshrunktoalmostnothing.”

“Monsieur,ifthemostcelebrateddoctorsinParisaretobebelieved,itisaneuroticcaseofsoextraordinaryanaturethattheydeniedthepossibilityofitssymptomsuntiltheysawthem.”

“Ah! yes, I remember now what the young lad told me. To-morrow,monsieur.”

Godefroidwithdrew,afterbowingtothemanwhoseemedtohimasoddashewasextraordinary.Nothingabouthim indicatedaphysician,noteven thestudy, inwhich themostnotableobjectwas the ironsafe,madebyHuretorFichet.

Godefroid had just time to get to the passageVivienne before the shopsclosedfortheday,andthereheboughtasuperbaccordion,whichheorderedsentatoncetoMonsieurBernard,givingtheaddress.

XVI.ALESSONINCHARITY

Fromthedoctor’shouseGodefroidmadehiswaytotherueChanoinesse,passingalongthequaidesAugustins,wherehehopedtofindoneoftheshopsofthecommission-publishersopen.Hewasfortunateenoughtodoso,andhadalongtalkwithayoungclerkonbooksofjurisprudence.

WhenhereachedtherueChanoinesse,hefoundMadamedelaChanterieandher friends just returning fromhighmass; in reply to the look shegavehimGodefroidmadeherasignificantsignwithhishead.

“Isn’tourdearfatherAlainhereto-day?”hesaid.

“No,”shereplied,“notthisSunday;youwillnotseehimtillaweekfromto-day—unlessyougowherehegaveyourendezvous.”

“Madame,” said Godefroid in a low voice, “you know he doesn’tintimidatemeasthesegentlemendo;Iwantedtomakemyreporttohim—”

“AndI?”

“Oh you! I can tell you all; and I have a great deal to tell. Formy firstessay I have found a most extraordinary misfortune; a cruel mingling ofpauperism and the need for luxuries; also scenes of a sublimity whichsurpassesalltheinventionsofourgreatnovelists.”

“Nature,especiallymoralnature,isalwaysgreaterthanart,justasGodisgreaterthanhiscreatures.Butcome,”saidmadamedelaChanterie,“tellmetheparticularsofyourfirsttripintoworldsunknowntoyou.”

Monsieur Nicolas and Monsieur Joseph (for the Abbe de Veze hadremainedafewmomentsinNotre-Dame)leftMadamedelaChanteriealonewithGodefroid,who,being still under the influenceof the emotionshehadgone through the night before, related even the smallest details of his story

with the forceandardorandactionof a first experienceof sucha spectacleanditsattendantpersonsandthings.Hisnarrativehadagreatsuccess;forthecalm and gentle Madame de la Chanterie wept, accustomed as she was tosoundthedepthsofsorrows.

“Youdidquiterighttosendtheaccordion,”shesaid.

“Iwouldliketodoagreatdealmore,”saidGodefroid;“inasmuchasthisfamilyisthefirstthathasshownmethepleasuresofcharity,Ishouldliketoobtainforthatsplendidoldmanafullreturnforhisgreatbook.Idon’tknowif you have confidence enough in my capacity to give me the means ofundertakingsuchanaffair.FrominformationIhaveobtained,itwillcostninethousandfrancstomanufactureaneditionoffifteenhundredcopies,andtheirsellingvaluewill be twenty-four thousand francs.But aswe shouldhave topayoffthethreethousandandsomehundredfrancsduetoBarbet,itwouldbeanoutlayof twelve thousand francs to risk.Oh!madame, if youonlyknewwhatbitterregretsIfeelforhavingdissipatedmylittlefortune!Thespiritofcharityhasappearedtome;itfillsmewiththeardorofaninitiate.Iwishtorenounce the world, I long to embrace the life of these gentlemen and beworthyofyou.ManyatimeduringthelasttwodaysIhaveblessedthechancethatbroughtmetothishouse.Iwillobeyyouinallthingsuntilyoujudgemefittobeoneofyours.”

“Then,”saidMadamedelaChanterie,afterreflectingforatime,“listentome,forIhaveimportantthingstotell.Youhavebeenallured,mychild,bythepoesyofmisfortune.Yes,misfortunesareoftenpoetical;for,asIthink,poesyisacertaineffectonthesensibilities,andsorrowsaffectthesensibilities,—lifeissointenseingrief!”

“Yes,madame,IknowthatIhavebeengrippedbythedemonofcuriosity.ButhowcouldIhelpit?Ihavenotyetacquiredthehabitofpenetratingtotheheartofthesegreatmisfortunes;IcannotgoamongthemwiththecalmnessofyourthreesoldiersoftheLord.But,letmetellyou,itissinceIhaverecoveredfromthatfirstexcitementthatIhavechieflylongedtodevotemyselftoyourwork.”

“Listentome,mydearangel!”saidMadamedelaChanterie,whoutteredthe last three words with a gentle solemnity that touched the young manstrangely.“Wehaveforbiddenourselvesabsolutely,—andwedonottriflewithwords here; what is forbidden no longer occupies our minds,—we haveforbiddenourselvestoenterintoanyspeculations.Toprintabookforsaleonthe chance of profit is amatter of business, and any operation of that kindwould throw us into all the entanglements of commerce. Certainly yourschemeseemstomefeasible,—evennecessary.Butdoyouthinkitisthefirstthathasoffereditself?Ascoreoftimes,ahundredtimes,wehavecomeupon

justsuchwaysofsavingfamilies,orfirms.Whatwouldhavebecomeofusifwe had taken part in such affairs? We should be merchants. No, our truepartnershipwithmisfortuneisnottotaketheworkintoourownhands,buttohelp the unfortunate to work themselves. Before long you will meet withmisfortunesmorebitterstillthanthese.Wouldyouthendothesamething,—thatis,taketheburdensofthoseunfortunateswhollyonyourself?Youwouldsoonbeoverwhelmed.Reflect,too,mydearchild,thatforthelastyeareventheMessieursMongenodfindouraccountstooheavyforthem.Halfyourtimewould be taken up inmerely keeping our books.We have to-day over twothousanddebtorsinParis,andwemustkeeptherecordoftheirdebts.Notthatweaskforpayment;wesimplywait.Wecalculatethatifhalfthemoneyweexpect is lost, the other half comes back to us, sometimes doubled. Now,supposeyourMonsieurBernarddies,thetwelvethousandfrancsareprobablylost. But if you cure his daughter, if his grandson is put in the way ofsucceeding, if he comes, some day, a magistrate, then, when the family isprosperous, theywill remember the debt, and return themoney of the poorwithusury.Doyouknowthatmore thanonefamilywhomwehaverescuedfrom poverty, and put upon their feet on the road to prosperity by loans ofmoney without interest, have laid aside a portion for the poor, and havereturned tous themoney loaneddoubled, and sometimes tripled?Those areour only speculations.Moreover, reflect thatwhat is now interestingyou sodeeply(andyououghttobeinterestedinit),namely,thesaleofthislawyer’sbook,dependsonthevalueofthework.Haveyoureadit?Besides,thoughthebookmaybe an excellent one, howmany excellent books remainone, two,three years without obtaining the success they deserve. Alas! how manycrownsof fameare laiduponagrave! I know that publishershavewaysofnegotiatingandrealizingprofitswhichmaketheirbusinessthemosthazardousto do with, and the most difficult to unravel, of all the trades of Paris.Monsieur Josephcan tellyouof thesedifficulties, inherent in themakingofbooks.Thus,yousee,wearesensible;wehaveexperienceofallmiseries,alsoofalltrades,forwehavestudiedParisformanyyears.TheMongenodshavehelpedusinthis;theyhavebeenliketorchestous.Itisthroughthemthatweknowhow theBankofFrance holds the publishingbusiness under constantsuspicion;althoughitisoneofthemostprofitabletrades,itisunsound.Asforthefourthousandfrancsnecessarytosavethisnoblefamilyfromthehorrorsof penury,—for that poor boy and his grandfather must be fed and clothedproperly,—I will give them to you at once. There are sufferings, miseries,wants,whichweimmediatelyrelieve,withouthesitation,withoutevenaskingwhomwehelp;religion,honor,character,areallindifferenttous;butwhenitcomes to lending money to the poor to assist them in any active form ofindustry or commerce, thenwe require guarantees,with all the sternness ofusurers.Soyoumust,mydearchild, limityourenthusiasmfor thisunhappy

family to finding for the fatheranhonestpublisher.ThisconcernsMonsieurJoseph.He knows lawyers, professors, authors ofworks on jurisprudence; Iwillspeaktohim,andnextSundayhewillbesuretohavesomegoodadvicetogiveyou.Don’tfeeluneasy;somewaywillcertainlybefoundtosolvethedifficulty.Perhapsitwouldbewell,however,ifMonsieurJosephweretoreadthe lawyer’s book. If you think it can be done, you had better obtain themanuscript.”

Godefroid was amazed at the good sense of this woman, whom he hadthoughtcontrolledbythespiritofcharityonly.Hetookherbeautifulhandandkissedit,saying:—

“Youaregoodsenseandjudgmenttoo!”

“Wemustbeallthatinourbusiness,”shereplied,withthesoftgaietyofarealsaint.

Therewasamoment’ssilence,andthenGodefroidexclaimed:—

“Twothousanddebtors!didyousaythat,madame?twothousandaccountstokeep!why,itisimmense!”

“Oh! Imeant two thousandaccountswhich rely for liquidation, as I toldyou,onthedelicacyandgoodfeelingofourdebtors;buttherearefullythreethousand other families whom we help who make us no other return thanthanks toGod.This iswhywe feel, as I told you, the necessity of keepingbooksourselves.Ifyouprovetousyourdiscretionandcapacityyoushallbe,ifyou like,ouraccountant.Wekeepaday-book,a ledger,abookofcurrentaccounts,andabank-book.Wehavemanynotes,butweloseagreatdealoftimeinlookingthemup.Ah!herearethegentlemen,”sheadded.

Godefroid,graveandthoughtful,tooklittlepartinthegeneralconversationwhich now followed.Hewas stunned by the communicationMadamede laChanteriehad justmade tohim, in a tonewhich implied that shewished torewardhisardor.

“Five thousand families assisted!” he kept repeating to himself. “If theyweretocostwhatIamtospendonMonsieurBernard,wemusthavemillionsscatteredthroughParis.”

This thought was the last expiringmovement of the spirit of the world,which had slowly and insensibly become extinguished in Godefroid. Onreflection he saw that the united fortunes of Madame de la Chanterie,MessieursAlain,Nicolas,Joseph,andthatofJudgePopinot,thegiftsobtainedthrough theAbbedeVeze,and theassistance lentby the firmofMongenodmust produce a large capital; and that this capital, increased during the lastdozenyearsbygrateful returns from those assisted,musthavegrown like a

snowball, inasmuch as the charitable stewards of it spent so little onthemselves.Littlebylittlehebegantoseeclearlyintothisvastwork,andhisdesiretoco-operateinitincreased.

He was preparing at nine o’clock to return on foot to the boulevard duMont-Parnasse; but Madame de la Chanterie, fearing the solitude of thatneighborhoodatalatehour,madehimtakeacab.WhenhereachedthehouseGodefroid heard the sound of an instrument, though the shutters were socarefully closed that not a ray of light issued through them.As soon as hereachedthelanding,Auguste,whowasprobablyonthewatchforhim,openedthedoorofMonsieurBernard’sapartmentandsaid:—

“Mammawould like to seeyou, andmygrandfatheroffersyoua cupoftea.”

WhenGodefroid entered, the patient seemed to him transfigured by thepleasure she felt in making music; her face was radiant, her eyes weresparklinglikediamonds.

“I ought to have waited to let you hear the first sounds,” she said toGodefroid,“but I flungmyselfupon the littleorganasastarvingmanflingshimselfonfood.Youhaveasoulthatcomprehendsme,andIknowyouwillforgive.”

Vandamadeasigntoherson,whoplacedhimselfinsuchawayastopresswithhisfoot thepedalwhichfilled thebellows;and then the invalid,whosefingershadforthetimerecoveredalltheirstrengthandagility,raisinghereyestoheavenlikeSaintCecilia,playedthe“PrayerofMosesinEgypt,”whichherson had bought for her andwhich she had learned by heart in a fewhours.GodefroidrecognizedinherplayingthesamequalityasinChopin’s.Thesoulwassatisfiedbydivinesoundsofwhichthedominantnotewasthatoftendermelancholy.MonsieurBernardhad receivedGodefroidwith a look thatwaslong a stranger to his eyes. If tears were not forever dried at their source,witheredbysuchscorchingsorrows,thatlookwouldhavebeentearful.

Theoldmansatplayingwithhissnuff-boxandlookingathisdaughterinsilentecstasy.

“To-morrow, madame,” said Godefroid, when the music ceased; “to-morrow your fate will be decided. I bring you good news. The celebratedHalpersohn is coming to see you at three o’clock in the afternoon. He haspromised,”addedGodefroidinalowvoicetoMonsieurBernard,“totellmetheexacttruth.”

Theoldmanrose,andgraspingGodefroid’shand,drewhimtoacorneroftheroombesidethefireplace.

“Ah!whatanightIshallpass!adefinitivedecision!Mydaughtercuredordoomed!”

“Courage!”saidGodefroid;“afterteacomeoutwithme.”

“My child,my child, don’t play anymore,” said the oldman; “youwillbringonanattack;suchastrainuponyourstrengthmustendinreaction.”

HemadeAugustetakeawaytheinstrumentandofferedacupofteatohisdaughterwiththecoaxingmannerofanursequietingthepetulanceofachild.

“What is thedoctor like?” she asked, hermind alreadydistractedby theprospectofseeinganewperson.

Vanda, like all prisoners, was full of eager curiosity.When the physicalphenomena of hermalady ceased, they seemed to betake themselves to themoral nature; she conceived the strangest fancies, themost violent caprices;sheinsistedonseeingRossini,andweptwhenherfather,whomshebelievedtobeallpowerful,refusedtofetchhim.

Godefroid now gave her aminute account of the Jewish doctor and hisstudy; of which she knew nothing, for Monsieur Bernard had cautionedAuguste not to tell hismother of his visits toHalpersohn, somuch had hefearedtorousehopesinhermindwhichmightnotberealized.

VandahunguponGodefroid’swordslikeonefascinated;andshefellintoasortofecstasyinherpassionatedesiretoseethisstrangePolishdoctor.

“Poland has producedmany singular,mysterious beings,” saidMonsieurBernard. “To-day, for instance, besides this extraordinary doctor, we haveHoene Wronski, the enlightened mathematician, the poet Mickievicz,Towianksithemystic,andChopin,whosetalentissupernatural.Greatnationalconvulsionsalwaysproducevariousspeciesofdwarfedgiants.”

“Oh!dearpapa;whatamanyouare!Ifyouwouldonlywritedownwhatwehearyousaymerelytoamusemeyouwouldmakeyourreputation.Fancy,monsieur,mydearoldfatherinventswonderfulstorieswhenIhavenonovelstoread;heoftenputsmetosleepinthatway.Hisvoicelullsme,andhequietsmymindwith his wit.Who can ever reward him?Auguste, my child, yououghtformysake,tokisstheprintofyourgrandfather’sfootsteps.”

Theyoungmanraisedhisbeautifulmoisteyestohismother,andthelookhegaveher,fullofalong-repressedcompassion,wasapoem.Godefroidrose,tookthelad’shand,andpressedit.

“Godhasplacedtwoangelsbesideyou,madame,”hesaid.

“Yes, I know that. And for that reason I often reproach myself forharassingthem.Come,mydearAuguste,andkissyourmother.Heisachild,

monsieur, of whom all mothers might be proud; pure as gold, frank andhonest,asoulwithoutsin—buttoopassionateasoul,alas!likethatofhispoormother.PerhapsGodhasfastenedmeinthisbedtokeepmefromthefolliesofwomen—whohavetoomuchheart,”sheadded,smiling.

Godefroidrepliedwithasmileandabow.

“Adieu, monsieur; and thank your friend for the instrument; tell him itmakesthehappinessofapoorcripple.”

“Monsieur,”saidGodefroid,whentheywerealoneinthelatter’sroom.“Ithink I may assure you that you shall not be robbed by that trio ofbloodsuckers.Ihavethenecessarysumtofreeyourbook,butyoumustfirstshowmeyourwrittenagreementwiththem.Andafterthat,inordertodostillmore for you, you must let me have your work to read,—not I myself, ofcourse,Ihavenotknowledgeenoughtojudgeofit,butaformermagistrate,alawyerofeminenceandofperfectintegrity,whowillundertake,accordingtowhathethinksofthebook,tofindyouanhonorablepublisherwithwhomyoucan make an equitable agreement. This, however, I will not insist upon.Meantimeherearefivehundredfrancs,”headded,givingabank-notetothestupefiedoldman,“tomeetyourpresentneeds.Idonotaskforanyreceipt;you will be under obligations to your own conscience only, and thatconscience is not to move you until you have recovered a sufficientcompetence,—IundertaketopayHalpersohn.”

“Whoareyou,then?”askedtheoldman,droppingintoachair.

“Imyself,”repliedGodefroid,“amnothing;butIservepowerfulpersonsto whom your distress is known, and who feel an interest in you. Ask menothingmoreaboutthem.”

“Butwhatinducesthemtodothis?”saidtheoldman.

“Religion.”

“Religion!isitpossible?”

“Yes,thecatholic,apostolic,andRomanreligion.”

“Ah!doyoubelongtotheorderofJesus?”

“No, monsieur,” replied Godefroid. “Do not feel uneasy; these personshavenodesignsuponyou,exceptthatofhelpingyoutorestoreyourfamilytoprosperity.”

“Canphilanthropybeanythingbutvanity?”

“Ah!monsieur,”saidGodefroid,hastily;“donot insult thevirtuedefinedbySaintPaul,sacred,catholicLove!”

MonsieurBernard,hearingthisanswer,begantostrideupanddownwithlongsteps.

“Iaccept,”hesaidsuddenly,“andIhavebutonewayofthankingyou,andthat is toofferyoumywork.Thenotesandcitationsareunnecessary to themagistrateyouspeakof;andIhavestilltwomonths’worktodoinarrangingthem for thepress.To-morrow Iwill giveyou the fivevolumes,”he added,offeringGodefroidhishand.

“Can I havemade a conversion?” thoughtGodefroid, struck by the newexpressionwhichhesawontheoldman’sface.

XVII.HALPERSOHN

Thenextafternoonat threeo’clockacabriolet stoppedbefore thehouse,andGodefroidsawHalpersohngettingoutofit,wrappedinamonstrousbear-skin pelisse. The cold had strengthened during the night, the thermometermarkingtendegreesofit.

TheJewishdoctorexaminedwithcuriouseyes,thoughfurtively,theroominwhichhisclientofthedaybeforereceivedhim,andGodefroiddetectedthesuspiciousthoughtwhichdartedfromhiseyeslikethesharppointofadagger.This rapidconceptionofdistrustgaveGodefroidacoldchill, forhe thoughtwithinhimselfthatsuchamanwouldbepitilessinallrelations;itissonaturaltosuppose thatgenius isconnectedwithgoodness thatastrongsensationofdisgusttookpossessionofhim.

“Monsieur,” he said, “I see that the simplicity of my room makes youuneasy;thereforeyouneednotbesurprisedatmymethodofproceeding.Hereare your two hundred francs, and here, too, are three notes of a thousandfrancseach,”headded,drawingfromhispocket-bookthemoneyMadamedelaChanteriehadgivenhim to releaseMonsieurBernard’sbook;but in caseyou still feel doubtful of my solvency I offer you as reference Messrs.Mongenod,bankers,ruedelaVictoire.”

“I know them,” said Halpersohn, putting the ten gold pieces into hispocket.

“He’llinquireofthem,”thoughtGodefroid.

“Whereisthepatient?”askedthedoctor,risinglikeamanwhoknowsthevalueoftime.

“Thisway,monsieur,”saidGodefroid,precedinghimtoshowtheway.

TheJewexaminedwithashrewdandsuspiciouseyetheplaceshepassedthrough,givingthemthekeen,rapidglanceofaspy;hesawallthehorrorsofpoverty through the door of the room in which the grandfather and thegrandson lived; for, unfortunately,MonsieurBernard had gone in to changehisclothesbeforeenteringhisdaughter’s room,and inhishaste toopen theouterdoortothedoctor,hehadforgottentoclosethatofhislair.

Hebowedinastatelymanner toHalpersohn,andopenedthedoorofhisdaughter’sroomcautiously.

“Vanda,mychild,hereisthedoctor,”hesaid.

Then he stood aside to allow Halpersohn, who kept on his bear-skinpelisse, to pass him. The Jew was evidently surprised at the luxury of theroom, which in this quarter, and more especially in this house, was ananomaly; but his surprise only lasted for an instant, for he had seen amongGerman and Russian Jews many instances of the same contrast betweenapparentmiseryandhoardedwealth.Ashewalkedfromthedoortothebedhekepthiseyeonthepatient,andthemomenthereachedherhesaidinPolish:—

“YouareaPole?”

“No,Iamnot;mymotherwas.”

“Whomdidyourgrandfather,ColonelTarlowski,marry?”

“APole.”

“Fromwhatprovince?”

“ASoboleska,ofPinsk.”

“Verygood;monsieurisyourfather?”

“Yes.”

“Monsieur,”hesaid,turningtotheoldman;“yourwife—”

“Isdead;”saidMonsieurBernard.

“Wassheveryfair?”saidHalpersohn,showingaslightimpatienceatbeinginterrupted.

“Hereisherportrait,”saidMonsieurBernard,unhookingfromthewallahandsomeframewhichenclosedseveralfineminiatures.

Halpersohn felt the head and handled the hair of the patient while helookedattheportraitofVandaTarlowska,bornCountessSobolewska.

“Relate tome thesymptomsofyour illness,”hesaid,placinghimselfonthesofaand looking fixedlyatVandaduring the twentyminutes thehistory,givenalternatelybythefatheranddaughter,lasted.

“Howoldareyou?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Ah!good!”hecried,rising;“Iwillanswerforthecure.Mind,IdonotsaythatIcanrestoretheuseofherlegs;butcuredofthedisease,thatsheshallbe.Only,Imusthaveherinaprivatehospitalundermyowneye.”

“But,monsieur,mydaughtercannotbemoved!”

“Iwillanswerforher,”saidHalpersohn,curtly;“butIwillanswerforheronlyon those conditions.Shewill have to exchangeher presentmalady foranotherstillmoreterrible,whichmaylastayear,sixmonthsattheveryleast.Youmaycomeandseeheratthehospital,sinceyouareherfather.”

“Areyoucertainofcuringher?”saidMonsieurBernard.

“Certain,” repeated the Jew. “Madame has in her body an element, avitiatedfluid,thenationaldisease,anditmustbeeliminated.Youmustbringher to me at Challot, rue Basse-Saint-Pierre, private hospital of DoctorHalpersohn.”

“HowcanI?”

“Onastretcher,justasallsickpersonsarecarriedtohospitals.”

“Buttheremovalwillkillher!”

“No.”

Ashesaid thewordinacurt tonehewasalreadyat thedoor;Godefroidrejoinedhimonthestaircase.TheJew,whowasstiflingwithheat,saidinhisear:

“Besides the three thousand francs, the costwill be fifteen francs a day,payablethreemonthsinadvance.”

“Verygood,monsieur.And,”continuedGodefroid,puttingonefootonthestep of the cabriolet, into which the doctor had sprung, “you say you willanswerforthecure?”

“Iwill answer for it,” said the Jewish doctor. “Are you in lovewith thelady?”

“No,”repliedGodefroid.

“YoumustnotrepeatwhatIamabouttosaytoyou;IonlysayittoprovetoyouthatIamcertainofacure.Ifyouareguiltyoftheslightestindiscretionyouwillkillher.”

Godefroidrepliedwithagestureonly.

“For the lastseventeenyearsshehasbeenavictimto theelement inhersystem called plica polonica, which has produced all these ravages. I haveseenmoreterriblecasesthanthis.Now,Ialoneinthepresentdayknowhowtobringthisdiseasetoacrisis,andforceitoutwardsoastoobtainachancetocure it—for it cannot always be cured. You see, monsieur, that I amdisinterested.Ifthisladywereofgreatimportance,aBaronnedeNucingen,oranyotherwifeordaughterofamodernCroesus,thiscurewouldbringmeonehundred—twohundredthousandfrancs;inshort,anythingIchosetoaskforit.However,itisonlyatriflinglosstome.”

“Aboutconveyingher?”

“Bah!she’llseemtobedying,butshewon’tdie.There’slifeenoughinhertolastahundredyears,whenthediseaseisoutofhersystem.Come,Jacques,driveon!quick,—ruedeMonsieur!quick!”hesaidtohisman.

Godefroidwasleftontheboulevardgazingstupidlyafterthecabriolet.

“Who is that queerman in a bearskin?” askedMadameVauthier,whomnothingescaped;“is it true,what themaninthecabriolet toldme, thatheisoneofthegreatestdoctorsinParis?”

“Whatisthattoyou?”

“Oh!nothingatall,”shereplied,makingaface.

“You made a great mistake in not putting yourself on my side,” saidGodefroid,returningslowlytothehouse;“youwouldhavemademoreoutofme thanyouwill ever get fromBarbet andMetivier; fromwhom,markmywords,you’llgetnothing.”

“I am not for them particularly,” said Madame Vauthier, shrugging hershoulders;“MonsieurBarbetismyproprietor,that’sall!”

It required twodays’ persuasion to induceMonsieurBernard to separatefromhisdaughterandtakehertoChaillot.Godefroidandtheoldmanmadethetripwalkingoneachsideofthelitter,canopiedwithblueandwhitestripedlinen,inwhichwasthedearpatient,partlyboundtoamattress,somuchdidherfatherdreadthepossibleconvulsionsofanervousattack.Theystartedatthreeo’clockandreachedtheirdestinationatfivejustaseveningwascomingon. Godefroid paid the sum demanded for threemonths’ board in advance,beingcarefultoobtainareceiptforthemoney.Whenhewentbacktopaythebearers of the litter, hewas followed byMonsieurBernard,who took frombeneath the mattress a bulky package carefully sealed up, and gave it toGodefroid.

“Oneofthesemenwillfetchyouacab,”saidtheoldman;“foryoucannotcarry these four volumes under your arm. That ismy book; give it to your

reader;hemaykeepitthewholeofthecomingweek.Ishallstayatleastthattimeinthisquarter;forIcannotleavemydaughterinsuchtotalabandonment.Itrustmygrandson;hecantakecareofourrooms;especiallyifyoukeepaneyeonhim.IfIwerewhatIoncewasIwouldaskyouthenameofmycritic,theformermagistrateyouspokeof; therewerebutfewof themwhomIdidnotknow.”

“Oh, there’snomysteryabout it!” saidGodefroid, interruptingMonsieurBernard.“Nowthatyouhaveshownthisentireconfidenceintrustingmewithyourbook,Iwilltellyouthatyourcensoristheformerpresident,LecamusdeTresnes.”

“Oh,yes!—of theRoyalCourtofParis.Takehim thebook;he isoneofthenoblestcharactersofthepresentday.HeandthelatePopinot,ajudgeoftheLowerCourt,werebothworthyofthedaysoftheoldParliaments.Allmyfears,ifIhadany,aredissipated.Wheredoeshelive?Ishouldliketogoandthankhimforthetroubleheistaking.”

“Youwill findhim in the rueChanoinesse, under thenameofMonsieurJoseph. Iamgoing therenow.Where is thatagreementyoumadewithyourswindlers?”

“Augustewillgiveittoyou,”saidtheoldman,re-enteringthecourtyardofthehospital.

Acabwasnowbroughtupbytheporter,andGodefroidjumpedintoit,—promising the coachman a good pourboire if he would get him to the rueChanoinesseingoodtime,forhewantedtodinethere.

Half an hour afterVanda’s departure, threemendressed in black,whomMadameVauthier let into thehouseby thedooron the rueNotre-DamedesChamps, filed up the staircase, accompanied by their female Judas, andknockedgentlyatthedoorofMonsieurBernard’slodging.AsithappenedtobeaThursday,Augustewasathome.Heopenedthedoor,andthethreemenglidedinlikeshadows.

“Whatdoyouwant,messieurs?”askedthelad.

“ThesearetheroomsofMonsieurBernard,—thatis,Monsieurlebaron,—aretheynot?”

“Yes;butwhatdoyouwant?”

“You knowverywell, youngman,whatwewant!We are informed thatyourgrandfatherhasleftthishousewithacoveredlitter.That’snotsurprising;he had the right to do so. But I am the sheriff, and I have come to seizeeverything he has left. On Monday he received a summons to pay threethousandfrancs,withinterestandcosts, toMonsieurMetivier,underpainof

arrest for debt duly notified to him, and like an old stagerwho is up to thetricksofhisowntrade,hehaswalkedoff just in time.However, ifwecan’tcatch him, his furniture hasn’t taken wings. You see we know all about it,youngman.”

“Herearethestampedpapersyourgrandpapadidn’tchoosetotake,”saidMadameVauthier,thrustingthreewritsintoAuguste’shand.

“Remain here, madame,” said the sheriff; “we shall make you legalguardianoftheproperty.Thelawgivesyoufortysousaday,andthat’snottobesneezedat.”

“Ha!nowIshallseetheinsideofthatfinebedroom!”criedtheVauthier.

“You shall not go into my mother’s room!” said the young lad, in athreateningvoice,springingbetweenthedoorandthethreemeninblack.

Atasignfromthesheriff,twoofthemenseizedAuguste.

“Noresistance,youngman;youarenotmasterhere,”saidthesheriff.“Weshalldrawuptheproces-verbal,andyouwillsleepinjail.”

Hearingthatdreadfulword,Augusteburstintotears.

“Ah,howfortunate,”hecried,“thatmammahasgone!Itwouldhavekilledher.”

A conference now took place between the sheriff, the other men, andVauthier,bywhichAugustediscovered,although theyspoke ina lowvoice,thathisgrandfather’smanuscriptswerewhattheychieflywanted.Onthat,heopenedthedoorofhismother’sbedroom.

“Go in,” he said, “but take care to do no injury. You will be paid to-morrowmorning.”

Thenhewentoffweepingintothelair,seizedhisgrandfather’snotesandstuck them into the stove, inwhich, as he knew verywell, therewas not asparkoffire.

Thethingwasdonesorapidlythatthesheriff—asly,keenfellow,worthyofhisclientsBarbetandMetivier—foundthe ladweepinginhischairwhenheenteredthewretchedroom,afterassuringhimselfthatthemanuscriptswerenotintheantechamber.

Thoughitisnotpermissibletoseizebooksormanuscriptsfordebt,thebillof sale which Monsieur Bernard had made of his work justified thisproceeding.Itwas,however,easytoopposevariousdelaystothisseizure,andMonsieurBernard,hadhebeenthere,wouldnothavefailedtodoso.Forthatreason thewholeaffairhadbeenconducted slyly.MadameVauthierhadnotattemptedtogivethewritstoMonsieurBernard;shemeanttohaveflungthem

intotheroomonenteringbehindthesheriff’smen,sotogivetheappearanceoftheirbeingintheoldman’spossession.

The proces-verbal of the seizure took an hour towrite down; the sheriffomitted nothing, and declared that the value of the property seized wassufficient topay thedebt.Assoonasheandhismenhaddeparted,Augustetook thewrits and rushed to thehospital to findhisgrandfather.The sheriffhaving told him that Madame Vauthier was now responsible, under heavypenalties,forthesafetyoftheproperty,hecouldleavethehousewithoutfearofrobbery.

Theideaofhisgrandfatherbeingdraggedtoprisonfordebtdrovethepoorlad, ifnotexactlycrazy,atanyrateascrazyasyouthbecomesunderoneofthose dangerous and fatal excitements inwhich all powers ferment at once,andleadasoftentoevilactionsastoheroicdeeds.WhenhereachedtherueBasse-Saint-Pierre,theportertoldhimthathedidnotknowwhathadbecomeof the father of the lady who had arrived that afternoon; the orders ofMonsieurHalpersohnweretoadmitnoonetoseeherforthenexteightdays,underpainofputtingherlifeindanger.

ThisanswerbroughtAuguste’sexasperationtoacrisis.HereturnedtotheboulevardduMont-Parnasse, turningover in hismind thewildest andmostextravagantplansofaction.Hereachedhomeathalf-pasteighto’clock,halffamished, and so exhausted with hunger and distress that he listened toMadameVauthierwhensheaskedhimtosharehersupper,whichhappenedtobeamuttonstewwithpotatoes.Thepoorladfellhalfdeaduponachairinthatatrociouswoman’sroom.

Persuaded by the wheedling and honeyed words of the old vulture, hereplied to a few questions about Godefroid which she adroitly put to him,letting her discover that it was really her other lodger who was to pay hisgrandfather’s debts the next day, and also that itwas to him they owed theimprovement in theirconditionduring thepastweek.Thewidowlistened totheseconfidenceswithadubiousair,plyingAugustewith severalglassesofwinemeantime.

About teno’clockacabstoppedbefore thehouse,andMadameVauthierlookingoutexclaimed:—

“Oh!itisMonsieurGodefroid.”

Auguste at once took the key of his apartment andwent up tomeet theprotectorofhisfamily;buthefoundGodefroid’sfaceandmannersochangedthathehesitatedtoaddresshimuntil,generousladthathewas,thethoughtofhisgrandfather’sdangercameoverhimandgavehimcourage.

XVIII.WHOMONSIEURBERNARDWAS

ThecauseofthischangeandofthesternnessinGodefroid’sfacewasaneventwhich had just taken place in the rue Chanoinesse.When the initiatearrivedtherehefoundMadamedelaChanterieandherfriendsassembledinthesalonawaitingdinner;andheinstantlytookMonsieurJosephaparttogivehimthefourvolumeson“TheSpiritofModernLaws.”MonsieurJosephtookthe voluminousmanuscript to his room and returned for dinner; then, aftersharingintheconversationforpartoftheevening,hewentbacktohisroom,intendingtobeginthereadingofthebookthatnight.

Godefroid was much astonished when Manon came to him soon afterMonsieurJoseph’sretirementandaskedifhewouldatoncegoupandspeaktothatgentleman.Hewentup,conductedbyManon,andwasunable topayanyheedtotheapartment(whichhehadneverbeforeentered)soamazedwashebytheagitatedlookandmannerofamanwhowasusuallycalmandplacid.

“Do you know,” asked Monsieur Joseph, once more a judge, “who theauthorofthisworkis?”

“He isMonsieurBernard,” saidGodefroid; “Iknowhimonlyunder thatname.Ididnotopenthepackage.”

“True,”saidMonsieurJoseph,as if tohimself,“Ibrokethesealsmyself.Youhavenottriedtofindoutanythingabouthisantecedents?”

“No,Ionlyknowthathemadealove-matchwiththedaughterofGeneralTarlowski;thatthedaughterisnamedafterthemother,Vanda;thegrandsoniscalled Auguste; and I have seen a portrait of Monsieur Bernard in the redrobesofapresidentoftheRoyalCourts.”

“Here, read that,” saidMonsieur Joseph, pointing to the titlepage of themanuscript,writtenprobablyinAuguste’shandwriting:—

ONTHESPIRITOFMODERNLAWS

ByM.Bernard-Jean-BaptisteMacloud,BaronBourlac.

Formerlyattorney-general to theRoyalCourtofRouen.GrandofficeroftheLegionofhonor.

“Ha! the slayer ofMadame’s daughter! of theChevalier duVissard! themanwhocondemnedhertotwentyyears’imprisonment!”saidGodefroid,inafeeblevoice.Hislegsgavewayunderhim,andhedroppedintoachair.“Whatabeginning!”hemuttered.

“Thismatter,mydearGodefroid,”resumedMonsieurJoseph,“concernsus

all.Youhavedoneyourpart;leavetheresttous.Ibegyoutohavenomoretodowithit;goandfetchthethingsyouhaveleftbehindyou.Don’tsayawordofall this.Practiseabsolutediscretion.Tell theBarondeBourlac toaddresshimself to me. By that time we shall have decided how to act under thecircumstances.”

Godefroid left him, tooka cab, andwentbackas fast ashe could to theboulevard du Mont-Parnasse, filled with horror as he remembered thatindictment signed with Bourlac’s name, the bloody drama ending on thescaffold, and Madame de la Chanterie’s imprisonment at Bicetre. Heunderstood now the abandonment in which this former attorney-general,another Fourquier-Tinville in the publicmind,was ending his days, and thetruereasonsfortheconcealmentofhisname.

“MayMonsieurJosephavengeherterribly!”hethought.Asheutteredthewishinhisownmind,hesawAuguste.

“Whatdoyouwantofme?”heasked.

“Mygood friend, such a dreadfulmisfortune has overtaken us that I amalmostmad.Wretcheshave comehere and seized allmymother’s property,andtheyaregoingtoputmygrandfatherinprison.ButitisnotonaccountofthosemisfortunesthatIcometoimploreyou,”saidthelad,withRomanpride;“it is to ask you to do me a service such as people do to those who arecondemnedtodie.”

“Goon,whatisit?”saidGodefroid.

“Theycamehere toseizemygrandfather’smanuscript;andasI thinkhegaveyou thebook itself Iwantyou to take thenotes, forMadameVauthierwillnotletmecarryanythingoutofthehouse.Putthemwiththevolumesand—”

“Yes,yes,”saidGodefroid,“goandgetthematonce.”

While the lad went back to his own rooms, returning immediately,Godefroid reflected that the poor childwas guilty of no crime, and that heoughtnottoputdespairintothatyoungheartbyspeakingofhisgrandfatherandof thepunishment forhissavagepoliticalactions thathadovertakenhisoldage.Hethereforetookthelittlepackagewithagoodgrace.

“Whatisyourmother’sname?”heasked.

“My mother is the Baronne de Mergi; my father was the son of thepresidentoftheRoyalCourtatRouen.”

“Ah!”saidGodefroid;“thenyourgrandfathermarriedhisdaughtertothesonofthefamouspresidentMergi.”

“Yes,monsieur.”

“Now,my little friend, leaveme,” said Godefroid. Hewent with youngMergitothelanding,andcalledtoMadameVauthier.

“MereVauthier,” he said, “you can letmy rooms. I shall not comebackanymore.”

Hegatheredhisthingstogether,wentdownstairs,andgotintothecab.

“Have you given anything to that gentleman?” said the Vauthier toAuguste.

“Yes,”saidtheyoungman.

“You’reaprettyfellow!that’stheagentofyourgrandfather’senemies.Hemanaged this whole business, and the proof is that, now that the trick isplayed,hegoesoffandisn’tcomingbackanymore.HehasjusttoldmeIcanlethislodgings.”

Augusteflewtotheboulevardandranafterthecabshoutingsoloudlythathefinallystoppedit.

“Whatdoyouwant?”askedGodefroid.

“Mygrandfather’smanuscripts.”

“TellthemhecangetthemfromMonsieurJoseph.”

Theyouththoughtthewordswereintendedasacrueljoke.Hesatdowninthesnowashesawthecabdisappearingrapidly.Presentlyhesprangupwithmomentaryvigor,returnedtohisroomandwenttobedwornoutwithfatigueanddistress.

The next morning, when the poor boy woke alone in that apartment solately occupied by his mother and grandfather, the painful emotions of hiscruelpositionfilledhismind.Thesolitudeofhishome,whereuptothistimeeverymomenthadhaditsdutyanditsoccupation,seemedsohardtobearthathewentdowntoMadameVauthiertoaskifshehadreceivedanynewsofhisgrandfather.Thewoman answered sneeringly that he knewverywell, or hemightknow,wheretofindhisgrandfather;thereasonwhyhehadnotcomein,she said, was because he had gone to live at the chateau de Clichy. Thismalicious speech, from the womanwho had coaxed and wheedled him theeveningbefore,put theladintoanotherfrenzy,andherushedtothehospitaloncemore,desperatewiththeideathathisgrandfatherwasinprison.

BaronBourlac hadwandered all night round the hospital,where hewasrefused entrance, and round the private residence of Dr. Halpersohn fromwhomhewished, naturally, to obtain an explanation of such treatment.Thedoctordidnotgethometilltwointhemorning.Athalf-pastonetheoldman

wasathisdoor;onbeingtoldhewasabsent,heturnedandwalkedaboutthegrandalleyoftheChampsElyseesuntilhalf-pasttwo.Whenheagainwenttothehouse,theportertoldhimthatMonsieurHalpersohnhadreturned,gonetobed,wasasleep,andcouldnotbedisturbed.

Thepoorfather,indespair,wanderedalongthequayandunderthefrost-ladentreesoftheCours-la-reine,waitingfordaylight.Atnineo’clockinthemorningheagainpresentedhimselfatthedoctor’shouse,demandingtoknowthereasonwhyhisdaughterwasthusvirtuallyimprisoned.

“Monsieur,” replied the doctor, to whose presence he was admitted,“yesterdayItoldyouIwouldanswerforyourdaughter’srecovery;butto-dayIamresponsibleforherlifeandyouwillreadilyunderstandthatImustbethesovereign master in such a case. Yesterday your daughter took a medicineintendedtobringoutherdisease,theplicapolonica;untilthathorriblediseaseshowsitselfonthesurfaceyoucannotseeher.Iwillnotallowexcitementoranymistakeofmanagementtocarryoffmypatientandyourdaughter.Ifyoupositivelyinsistonseeingher,Ishallcallaconsultationofthreephysicians,soastorelievemyselfofresponsibility,forthepatientmaydieofit.”

The old man, worn out with fatigue, dropped on a chair; but he roseimmediately,saying:—

“Forgiveme,monsieur.Ihavespentthenightwaitingforyouindreadfuldistressofmind.YoucannotknowtowhatdegreeIlovemydaughter;Ihavenursedherforfifteenyearshoveringbetweenlifeanddeath,andthisweekofwaitingistorturetome.”

The baron left the room staggering like a drunken man. The doctorfollowed and supported him by the arm until he saw him safely down thestaircase.

AnhourlaterAugustedeMergienteredthedoctor’sroom.Onquestioningtheporteratthehospitaltheunhappyladheardthathisgrandfatherhadbeenrefused an entrance and had gone away to findMonsieur Halpersohn, whocouldprobablygive informationabouthim.AsAugusteentered thedoctor’sstudyHalpersohnwasbreakfastingonacupofchocolateandaglassofwater.Hedidnotdisturbhimselfattheyoungman’sentrance,butwentonsoppinghisbreadinthechocolate;forheneverateanythingforbreakfastbutasmallrollcutintofourstripswithcarefulprecision.

“Well,youngman,”hesaid,glancingatVanda’sson,“soyouhavecome,too,tofindoutaboutyourmother?”

“Yes,monsieur;”repliedAugustedeMergi.

Auguste was standing near the table on which lay several bank-notes

amongapileofgoldlouis.Underthecircumstancesinwhichtheunhappyboywasplacedthetemptationwasstrongerthanhisprinciples,solidastheywere.Hesawameansofsavinghisgrandfatherandthefruitsofalmostalifetimeoftoil.Heyielded.Thefascinationwasrapidasthought;anditwasjustifiedtothechild’smindbytheideaofself-devotion.“Idestroymyself,butIsavemymotherandmygrandfather,”hethought.Underthestrainputuponhisreasonby this criminal temptation he acquired, like madmen, a singular andmomentarydexterity.

Halpersohn,anexperiencedobserver,haddivined,retrospectively,thelifeoftheoldmanandthatoftheladandofthemother.Hefeltorperceivedthetruth;theBaronnedeMergi’sremarkshadhelpedtounveilittohim;andtheresultwasa feelingofbenevolentpity forhisnewclients.As for respectoradmiration,hewasincapableofthoseemotions.

“Well, my dear boy,” he replied familiarly, “I am taking care of yourmother,andIshallreturnhertoyouyoungandhandsomeandperfectlywellinhealth.Hereisoneofthoserarecasesinwhichphysicianstakeaninterest.Besides, through her mother, she is a compatriot of mine. You and yourgrandfathermustfortwoweekshavethecouragetokeepawayfromMadame—?”

“TheBaronnedeMergi.”

“Ah!ifsheisabaroness,youmustbeabaron,”remarkedHalpersohn.

Atthatinstantthetheftwasaccomplished.Whilethedoctorwaslookingathissoppedbreadheavywithchocolate,Augustesnatchedfournotesandputthemintohispocket,asifheweremerelyputtinghishandtherebyaccident.

“Yes,monsieur,”he replied,“Iamabaron,andso ismygrandfather;hewasattorney-generalundertheRestoration.”

“Youblush,youngman; there’snoneed toblushforbeingapoorbaron;that’scommonenough.”

“Whotoldyou,monsieur,thatwearepoor?”

“YourgrandfathertoldmehehadspentthenightintheChampsElysees;andthoughIknownopalacewithhalfsofineaceilingasthatoftheskiesattwoo’clockthismorning,Iassureyouitwasprettycoldinthepalacewhereyourgrandfatherpassedthenight.Wedon’tselectthe‘Star’innfromchoice.”

“Hasmygrandfatherbeenhere thismorning?” saidAuguste, seizing theopportunitytogetaway.“Ithankyou,monsieur,andIwillcallagain,ifyouwillpermitme,toaskfornewsofmymother.”

Assoonashewasinthestreettheyoungbarontookacabtogoasrapidlyashecould to thesheriff’soffice,wherehepaidhisgrandfather’sdebt.The

sheriffgavehim thepapersanda receiptedbillofcosts,and toldoneofhisclerkstoaccompanytheyoungmanhomeandrelievethelegalguardianofherfunctions.

“AsMessieursBarbetandMetivier live inyourquarter,”hesaid,“Iwilltellmyyoungmantocarrythemoneythereandobtainthebillofsaleofthebooksandreturnittoyou.”

Augustewhodidnotunderstandeitherthetermsortheformalitiesofthelaw,didexactlyashewastold.Hereceivedsevenhundredfrancschangefromthefourthousandfrancshehadstolen,andwentawaywiththeclerk.Hegotback into the cab in a condition of semi-stupor; for, the result being nowobtained, remorse began; he saw himself dishonored, cursed by hisgrandfather,whoseinflexiblenaturewaswell-knowntohim,andhefelt thathismotherwould surely die if she knewhimguilty.All nature changed forhim. Hewas hot; he did not see the snow; the houses looked like spectresflittingpasthim.

Bythetimehereachedhometheyoungbaronhaddecidedonhiscoursewhichwascertainlythatofanhonestman.Hewenttohismother’sroom,tookthegoldsnuff-boxsetwithdiamondsgiventohisgrandfatherbytheEmperor,andwrapped it in a parcelwith the seven hundred francs and the followingletter,whichrequiredseveralroughcopiesbeforeitwassatisfactory.ThenhedirectedthewholetoDoctorHalpersohn:—

Monsieur,—Thefruitsoftwentyyearsofmygrandfather’stoilwereaboutto be seized by usurers, who even threatened to put him in prison. Threethousandthreehundredfrancswereenoughtosavehim.Seeingallthatmoneyonyourtable,Icouldnotresistthehappinessoffreeingmygrandfatherfromhisdanger.Iborrowed,withoutyourconsent,fourthousandfrancsofyou;butasthreethousandthreehundredwereall thatwasnecessary,Isendtheothersevenhundred inmoney, togetherwith a gold snuff-box setwith diamonds,given to my grandfather by the Emperor, the value of which will probablycoverthewholesum.

Incaseyoudonotbelieveinthehonorofhimwhowillforeverregardyouasabenefactor,Iprayyoutokeepsilenceaboutanactwhichwouldbequiteunjustifiable under other circumstances; for by so doing you will save mygrandfather’s life, just as you are saving my mother’s life; and I shall beforever

Yourdevotedservant,AugustedeMergi.

Abouthalf-pasttwoo’clockintheafternoon,Auguste,whowenthimselfas far as the Champs Elysees, sent the package from there by a streetmessengertoDoctorHalpersohn’shouse;thenhewalkedslowlyhomewardby

thepontde Jena, the Invalides, and theboulevards, relyingonHalpersohn’sgenerosity.

The Polish doctor had meanwhile discovered the theft, and he instantlychangedhisopinionofhisclients.Henowthoughttheoldmanhadcometorobhim,andbeingunabletosucceed,hadsenttheboy.Hedoubtedtherankthey had claimed, and went straight to the police-office where he lodged acomplaint,requestingthattheladmightbearrestedatonce.

The prudencewithwhich the law proceeds seldom allows it tomove asrapidly as complainants desire; but about three o’clock of that day acommissary of police, accompanied by agents who kept watch outside thehouse,was questioningMadameVauthier as to her lodgers, and thewidowwasincreasing,withoutbeingawareofit,thesuspicionsofthepoliceman.

WhenNepomucenesawthepoliceagentsstationedoutside thehouse,hethoughttheyhadcometoarresttheoldman,andashewasfondofMonsieurAuguste,herushedtomeetMonsieurBernard,whomhenowsawonhiswayhomeintheavenuedel’Observatoire.

“Hideyourself,monsieur!”hecried,“thepolicehavecometoarrestyou.Thesheriffwashereyesterdayandseizedeverything.MadameVauthierdidn’tgiveyouthestampedpapers,andshesaysyou’llbeinClichyto-nightorto-morrow.There,don’tyouseethosepolicemen?”

BaronBourlac immediatelyresolvedtogostraight toBarbet.TheformerpublisherlivedintherueSaint-Catherined’Enfer,andittookhimaquarterofanhourtoreachthehouse.

“Ah! I suppose you have come to get that bill of sale,” said Barbet,replyingtothesalutationofhisvictim.“Hereitis.”

And, to Baron Bourlac’s great astonishment, he held out the document,whichthebarontook,saying,—

“Idonotunderstand.”

“Didn’tyoupayme?”saidtheusurer.

“Areyoupaid?”

“Yes,yourgrandsontookthemoneytothesheriffthismorning.”

“Thenitistrueyoumadeaseizureatmyhouseyesterday?”

“Haven’t you been home for two days?” asked Barbet. “But an oldmagistrateoughttoknowwhatanotificationofarrestmeans.”

Hearingthatremark,thebaronbowedcoldlytoBarbetandreturnedhome,thinking that the policemenwhomNepomucene had pointed outmust have

comeforthetwoimpecuniousauthorsontheupperfloor.Hewalkedslowly,lost invagueapprehensions; for, inspiteof theexplanationhegavehimself,Nepomucene’swordscameback,andseemedtohimmoreandmoreobscureandinexplicable.WasitpossiblethatGodefroidhadbetrayedhim?

XIX.VENGEANCE

TheoldmanwalkedmechanicallyalongtherueNotre-DamedesChamps,andenteredthehousebythelittledoor,whichhenoticedwasopen.TherehecamesuddenlyuponNepomucene.

“Oh,monsieur,comequick!theyaretakingMonsieurAugustetoprison!Theyarrestedhimontheboulevard;itwashetheywerelookingfor;theyhaveexaminedhim.”

Theoldmanboundedlikeatiger,rushedthroughthehousewiththespeedofanarrow,andreachedthedoorontheboulevardintimetoseehisgrandsongettingintoahackney-coachwiththreemen.

“Auguste,”hesaid,“whatdoesallthismean?”

Thepoorboyburstintotearsandfaintedaway.

“Monsieur,IamtheBaronBourlac,formerlyattorney-general,”hesaidtothecommissaryofpolice,whosescarfnowattractedhiseye.“Ientreatyoutoexplainallthis.”

“Monsieur, if you areBaronBourlac, twowordswill be enough. I havejustexaminedthisyoungman,andheadmits—”

“What?”

“TherobberyoffourthousandfrancsfromDoctorHalpersohn!”

“Isthattrue,Auguste?”

“Grandpapa,Isenthimassecurityyourdiamondsnuff-box.Ididittosaveyoufromgoingtoprison.”

“Unhappyboy!whathaveyoudone?Thediamondsare false!”cried thebaron;“Isoldtherealonesthreeyearsago!”

Thecommissaryofpoliceandhisagentslookedateachother.Thatlook,full ofmany things,was interceptedbyBaronBourlac, and seemed toblasthim.

“Monsieur,”hesaidtothecommissary,“youneednotfeeluneasy;Ishall

go myself to the prefect; but you are witness to the fact that I kept mygrandson ignorant of the loss of the diamonds.Doyour duty; but I imploreyou,inthenameofhumanity,putthatladinacellbyhimself;Iwillgototheprison.Towhichoneareyoutakinghim?”

“AreyoureallyBaronBourlac?”askedthecommissary.

“Oh,monsieur!”

“ThefactisthatthemunicipaljudgeandIdoubtedifitwerepossiblethatyouandyourgrandsoncouldbeguilty.Wethought,andthedoctor, too, thatsomescoundrelshadtakenyourname.”

Hetookthebaronaside,andadded:—

“DidyougotoseeDoctorHalpersohnthismorning?”

“Yes,monsieur.”

“Yourgrandsonwenttherehalfanhourafteryou.”

“Didhe?Iknewnothingofthat.Ihavejustreturnedhome,andhavenotseenmygrandsonfortwodays.”

“Thewritshehasshownmeandtheexaminationexplaineverything,”saidthecommissaryofpolice.“Iseethecauseofthecrime.Monsieur,Ioughtbyrightstoarrestyouasaccomplicetoyourgrandson;foryouranswersconfirmthe allegations inDoctorHalpersohn’s complaint.But these papers,which Iherereturntoyou,”holdingouttotheoldmanabundleofpapers,“doproveyou to be Baron Bourlac. Nevertheless, you must hold yourself ready toappear beforeMonsieurMarest, the judge of theMunicipal Court who hascognizanceofthecase.Asforyourgrandson,Iwillspeaktotheprocureurduroi,andwewilltakeallthecareofhimthatisduetothegrandsonofaformerjudge,—the victim, no doubt, of youthful error.But the complaint has beenmade,thedelinquentadmitshisguilt,Ihavedrawnuptheproces-verbal,andservedthewarrantofarrest;Icannotgobackonthat.Asfortheincarceration,IwillputhimintheConciergerie.”

“Thankyou,monsieur,”saidtheunhappyBourlac.

Withthewordshefellrigidonthesnow,androlledintooneofthehollowsroundthetreesoftheboulevard.

The commissary of police called for help, and Nepomucene ran up,togetherwithMadameVauthier. The oldmanwas carried to his room, andMadame Vauthier begged the commissary to call on his way in the rued’Enfer,andsendDoctorBertonassoonaspossible.

“Whatisthematterwithmygrandfather?”askedpoorAuguste.

“Heisoutofhishead.Youseewhatitistosteal,”saidtheVauthier.

Augustemade amovement as thoughhewoulddashouthisbrains.Thetwoagentscaughthim.

“Come,youngman,becalm,” said thecommissaryofpolice; “youhavedonewrong,butitmaynotbeirreparable—”

“Monsieur,willyoutellthatwomanmygrandfatherhasn’thadanythingtoearfortwenty-fourhours?”

“Oh!thepoorthings!”exclaimedthecommissaryunderhisbreath.

Hestoppedthecoach,whichhadstarted,andsaidawordintheearofoneofhisagents,whogotoutandrantoMadameVauthier,andthenreturned.

WhenDr.BertonarrivedhedeclaredthatMonsieurBernard(heknewhimonlyunderthatname)hadahighfeverofgreatintensity.AfterhearingfromMadameVauthieralltheeventswhichhadbroughtonthiscrisis(relatedafterthemannerofsuchwomen)heinformedMonsieurAlainthenextmorning,atSaint-JacquesduHaut-Pas,ofthepresentstateofaffairs;onwhichMonsieurAlaindespatchedanoteinpencilbyastreetmessengertoMonsieurJoseph.

GodefroidhadgivenMonsieurJoseph,onhisreturnfromtheboulevardduMont-Parnasse the night before, the notes confided to him byAuguste, andMonsieur Joseph had spent part of the night in reading the first volume ofBaronBourlac’swork.

The next morning after breakfast Madame de la Chanterie told herneophyte that he should, if his resolution still held good, be put towork atonce. Godefroid, initiated by her into the financial secrets of the society,worked steadily seven or eight hours a day for several months, under theinspection of FredericMongenod, who came every Sunday to examine thework,andfromwhomhereceivedmuchpraiseandencouragement.

“You are,” he said, when the books were all in order and the accountsaudited, “apreciousacquisition to the saints amongwhomyou live.Twoorthreehoursadaywillnowsufficetokeepthecurrentaccountsinorder,andyouwillhaveplentyofsurplustimetohelptheworkinotherways,ifyoustillhavethevocationyoushowedforitsixmonthsago.”

ItwasnowJuly,1838.DuringthetimethathadelapsedsincehisopeningattemptontheboulevardduMont-Parnasse,Godefroid,eagertoprovehimselfworthyofhisfriends,hadrefrainedfromaskinganyquestionrelatingtoBaronBourlac.Nothearinga singlewordon the subject, and findingno recordofany transaction concerning it in the accounts, he regarded the silencemaintainedabouttheenemyofMadamedelaChanterieandhisfamilyeitherasatesttowhichhehimselfwassubjected,orasaproofthatthefriendsofthe

noblewomanhadinsomewayavengedher.

SometwomonthsafterhehadleftMadameVauthier’slodgingsheturnedhisstepswhenoutforawalktowardstheboulevardduMont-Parnasse,wherehecameuponthewidowherself,andaskedfornewsoftheBernardfamily.

“JustasifIknewwhathasbecomeofthem!”shereplied.“Twodaysafteryour departure—for itwas you, slyboots,who got the affair away frommyproprietor—somemencamehereandridmeofthatarrogantoldfoolandallhisbelongings.Blessme! if theydidn’tmoveeverythingoutwithin twenty-fourhours;andascloseaswaxtheyweretoo;notawordwouldtheysaytome. I think he went off to Algiers with his rogue of a grandson; forNepomucene,whohada fancy for thatyoung thief,beingnobetterhimself,couldn’tfindhimattheConciergerie.IdaresayNepomuceneknowswhereheis,though,forhe,too,hasrunaway.That’swhatitistobringupfoundlings!that’s how they reward you for all your trouble, leaving you in the lurch! Ihaven’tyetbeenabletogetamaninhisplace,andasthequarterislookingupthehouseisfull,andIamworkedtodeath.”

Godefroid would never have knownmore about Baron Bourlac and hisfamily if it had not been for one of those chance encounters such as oftenhappensinParis.

InthemonthofSeptemberhewaswalkingdownthegreatavenueoftheChamps Elysees, thinking, as he passed the end of the rueMarbeuf, ofDr.Halpersohn.

“Imight,”thoughthe,“goandseehimandaskifheevercuredBourlac’sdaughter.What a voice,what immense talents she had!—and shewanted toconsecrateherselftoGod!”

WhenhereachedtheRond-pointGodefroidcrosseditquickly,onaccountofthemanycarriagesthatwerepassingrapidly.Ashereachedtheothersideinhasteheknockedagainstayoungmanwithaladyonhisarm.

“Takecare!”saidtheyoungman;“areyoublind?”

“Hey!isityou?”criedGodefroid,recognizingAugustedeMergi.

Augustewassowell-dressed,andlookedsodandifiedandhandsomeandsoproudofgivinghisarmtoaprettywoman, that if ithadnotbeenfor theyouth’svoiceandthememoriesthatwerejusttheninhisownmindhemightnothaverecognizedhim.

“Oh!itisourdearMonsieurGodefroid!”saidthelady.

Hearing those words in the celestial notes of Vanda’s enchanting voice,Godefroidstoppedshortonthespotwherehestood.

“Cured!”heexclaimed.

“Forthelasttendayshehasallowedmetowalkout,”shereplied.

“Who?Halpersohn?”

“Yes,” she said. “Whyhaveyounotbeen to seeus?Perhaps itwaswellyoudidn’t;”sheadded;“myhaircameoff;thisthatyouseeisawig;butthedoctor assuresme itwill grow again.Oh! howmany thingswehave to telleachother!Comeanddinewithus.Oh!youraccordion!oh!monsieur,”—sheputherhandkerchieftohereyes.

“Ishallkeepitallmylife,”shewenton,“andmysonwillpreserveitasarelic after me.My father has searched all Paris for you. And he is also insearchofhisunknownbenefactors;hewillgrievehimselftodeathifyoudonothelphimtodiscover them.Poor father!he isgnawedbyamelancholyIcannotalwaysgetthebetterof.”

Asmuchattractedbythatexquisitevoice,nowrescuedfromthesilenceofthe grave, as by a burning curiosity,Godefroid offered his arm to the handheldout tohimby theBaronnedeMergi,whosigned toher son toprecedethem,charginghimwithacommissionwhichheseemedtounderstand.

“I shall not take you far,” she said; “we live in the Allee d’Antin, in aprettylittlehousebuiltintheEnglishfashion.Weoccupyitalone;eachofushasafloor.Oh!wearesocomfortable.Myfatherthinksthatyouhadagreatdealtodowithourgoodfortune.”

“I?”

“Yes; did you know that on a recommendationmade by theminister ofpublicinstructionachairofinternationallawhasbeencreatedforpapaattheSorbonne? He begins his first course next November. The great work onwhichhehasbeen engaged for so longwill bepublished thismonthby thefirmofCavalierandCo.,whoagreetosharetheprofitswithmyfather;theyhavealreadypaidhimonaccountthirtythousandfrancs.Myfatherboughtourhousewith thatmoney.Theministerof justicehasawardedmeapensionoftwelve hundred francs as the daughter of a former judge;my father has hisretiring pension of three thousand, and his professorshipwill give him fivethousand more. We are so economical that we are almost rich. My dearAugustewillbeginhislawstudiesintwomonths;butheisalreadyemployedin theoffice of the attorney-general, and is earning twelvehundred francs ayear. Ah! Monsieur Godefroid, promise me you will never speak of thatunhappyaffairofmypoorAuguste.Asforme,Iblesshimeverydayforhisaction, though his grandfather has not yet forgiven him. Yes, his motherblesseshim,Halpersohnadoreshim,butmyfatherisimplacable!”

“Whataffair?”askedGodefroid.

“Ah!I recognizeyourgenerosity,”criedVanda.“Whataheartyouhave!Yourmothermustbeproudofyou.”

Shestoppedasifapainhadstruckherheart.

“IsweartoyouthatIknownothingoftheaffairofwhichyouspeak,”saidGodefroid.

“Itispossiblethatyoureallydidnotknowit?”saidVanda.Andsherelatednaively, in termsofadmiration forher son, thestoryof the loan thathehadsecuredfromthedoctor.

“WemaynotspeakofitbeforeBaronBourlac,”saidGodefroid,“tellmenowhowyoursongotoutofhistrouble.”

“Well,” saidVanda, “I toldyou, I think, thathe isnowemployedby theattorney-general, who shows him the greatest kindness. Auguste was onlyforty-eight hours in theConciergerie,where hewas put into the governor’shouse.Thegooddoctor,whodidnotreceiveanoblelettertheboywrotehimtill late at night, withdrew his complaint; and, through the influence of aformer judge of the Royal Courts, whommy father has never been able tomeet,theattorney-generalwasinducedtoannultheproceedingsinthecourt.Thereisnotraceleftoftheaffairexceptinmyheartandmyson’sconscience,andalas! inhisgrandfather’smind.FromthatdayhehastreatedAugusteasalmostastranger.OnlyyesterdayHalpersohnbeggedhimtoforgivetheboy;butmyfather,whoneverbeforerefusedmeanything—me,whomhelovessowell!—replied:‘Youarethepersonrobbed;youcan,andyououghttoforgive;but I am responsible for the thief. When I was attorney-general I neverpardoned.’ ‘You’ll kill your daughter,’ saidHalpersohn.My fathermade noreplyandturnedaway.”

“Butwhohelpedyouinallthis?”

“Agentleman,whomwethinkisemployedtodothequeen’sbenefits.”

“Whatishelike?”

“Well,heisofmediumheight;ratherstout,butactive;withakindly,genialface.Itwashewhofoundmyfatherilloffeverinthehousewhereyouknewusandhadhimbroughttothatinwhichwenowlive.Andjustfancy,assoonasmyfatherrecoveredIwasinstalledtheretoo,inmyveryownroom,justasifIhadneverleftit.Halpersohn,whomthegentlemancaptivated,IamsureIdon’tknowhow, then toldmeall thesufferingsmyfatherhadendured.Ah,whenIthinkofit!myfatherandmysonoftenwithoutbreadtoeat,andwhenwithmepretendingtoberich!eventhediamondsinthesnuffboxsold!Oh,MonsieurGodefroid!thosetwobeingsaremartyrs.Andso,whatcanIsayto

myfather?BetweenhimandmysonIcantakenopart;Icanonlymakereturntotheminkindbysufferingwiththem,astheyoncesufferedwithme.”

“Andyousayyouthinkthatgentlemancamefromthequeen?”

“Oh!Iamsureyouknowhim,Iseeitinyourface,”criedVanda,nowatthedoorofthehouse.

SheseizedGodefroidbythehandwiththevigorofanervouswomananddraggedhimintoasalon,thedoorofwhichstoodopen.

“Papa!”shecried,“hereisMonsieurGodefroid!andIamcertainheknowsourbenefactors.”

BaronBourlac,whomGodefroidnowsawdressedinamannersuitableforamanofhisrankandposition,roseandcameforward,holdingouthishandtoGodefroid,sayingashedidso:—

“Iwassureofit.”

Godefroidmadeagesturedenyingthathesharedinthisnoblevengeance,buttheformerattorney-generalgavehimnochancetospeak.

“Ah! monsieur,” he said, continuing, “Providence could not be morepowerful, love more ingenious, motherhood more clear-sighted than yourfriendshavebeenforus.Iblessthechancethathasbroughtyouhereto-day;forMonsieurJosephhasdisappearedforever;hehasevadedallthetrapsIsettodiscoverhistruenameandresidence.Here,readhislastletter.Butperhapsyoualreadyknowit.”

Godefroidreadasfollows:—

Monsieur le Baron Bourlac,—The sums which we have spent for you,undertheordersofacharitablelady,amounttofifteenthousandfrancs.Takenoteofthis,sothatyoumayreturnthatsumeitheryourself,orthroughyourdescendants,whenevertheprosperityofyourfamilywilladmitofit,—forthatmoneyis themoneyof thepoor.Whenyouoryourfamilyareable tomakethisrestitution,paythesumyouoweintothehandsofMessrs.MongenodandCompany,bankers.

MayGodforgiveyou.

Five crosses formed the mysterious signature of this letter, whichGodefroidreturnedtothebaron.

“Thefivecrossesarethere,”hesaidasiftohimself.

“Ah!monsieur,”saidtheoldman;“youdoknowall;youweresenttomebythatmysteriouslady—tellmehername!”

“Her name!” exclaimedGodefroid; “her name!Unhappyman! youmust

notaskit;neverseektofinditout.Ah!madame,”hecried,takingMadamedeMergi’shand;“tellyourfather,ifhevalueshispeaceofmind,toremaininhisignoranceandmakenoefforttodiscoverthetruth.”

“No,tellit!”saidVanda.

“Well,then,shewhosavedyourdaughter,”saidGodefroid,lookingattheoldman, “who returnsher toyouyoungandbeautiful and fresh andhappy,whorescuedherfromhercoffin,shewhosavedyourgrandsonfromdisgrace,andhasgivenyouanoldageofpeaceandhonor—”Hestoppedshort—“isawomanwhom you sent innocent to prison for twenty years; towhom, as amagistrate, you did the foulest wrong; whose sanctity you insulted; whosebeautifuldaughteryoutorefromherarmsandcondemnedtothecruellestofalldeaths,forshediedontheguillotine.”

Godefroid, seeing that Vanda had fallen back half fainting on her chair,rushedintothecorridorandfromthereintothestreet,runningatfullspeed.

“If youwant your pardon,” saidBaronBourlac to his grandson, “followthatmanandfindoutwherehelives.”

Augustewasofflikeanarrow.

The next morning at eight o’clock, Baron Bourlac knocked at the oldyellowdoor in the rueChanoinesse,andaskedforMadamede laChanterie.The portress showed him the portico. Happily it was the breakfast hour.Godefroidsawthebaron,throughoneofthecasementsonthestairs,crossingthecourt-yard;hehadjust timetogetdownintothesalonwherethefriendswereallassembledandtocryout:—

“BaronBourlacishere!”

MadamedelaChanterie,hearingthename,rose;supportedbytheAbbedeVezeshewenttoherroom.

“You shall not come in, tool of Satan!” criedManon, recognizing theirformerprosecutorandpreventinghisentrance throughthedoorof thesalon.“HaveyoucometokillMadame?”

“Manon,letthegentlemancomein,”saidMonsieurAlain.

Manonsatdownonachairasifbothherlegshadgivenwayatonce.

“Monsieur,” said the baron in an agitated voice, recognizing MonsieurJosephandGodefroid,andbowingtoMonsieurNicolas,“mercygivesrightstothoseitbenefits.”

“You owe us nothing, monsieur;” said the good old Alain; “you oweeverythingtoGod.”

“You are saints, and you have the calmness of saints;” said the formermagistrate; “youwill therefore listen tome. I know that the vast benefits IhavereceivedduringthelasteighteenmonthshavecomefromthehandofapersonwhomIgrievouslyinjuredindoingmyduty.ItwasfifteenyearsbeforeIwasconvincedofherinnocence;andthatcaseistheonlyone,gentlemen,forwhichI feelany remorseas to theexerciseofmyfunctions.Listen tome! Ihavebutashorttimetolive,butIshallloseeventhatpoorremnantofalife,still so important tomy childrenwhomMadamede laChanterie has saved,unlessshewillalsograntmeherpardon.Yes,Iwillstaythereonmykneesonthe pavement ofNotre-Dame until she says tome thatword. I,who cannotweep,whomthetorturesofmychildhavedriedlikestubble,Ishallfindtearswithinmetomoveher—”

The door ofMadame de laChanterie’s room opened; theAbbe deVezeglidedinlikeashadowandsaidtoMonsieurJoseph:—

“ThatvoiceistorturingMadame.”

“Ah!sheisthere!”exclaimedthebaron.

He fell on his knees and burst into tears, crying out in a heart-rendingvoice:“In thenameofJesusdyingonthecross, forgive,forgiveme,formydaughterhassufferedathousanddeaths!”

Theoldmanfellforwardonthefloorsopronethattheagitatedspectatorsthought him dead. At that instantMadame de la Chanterie appeared like aspectre at the door of her room, against the frame of which she supportedherself.

“In the name of Louis XVI. andMarie-Antoinette whom I see on theirscaffold,inthenameofMadameElisabeth,inthenameofmydaughterandofyours,andforJesus’sake,Iforgiveyou.”

Hearing thosewords theoldmanraisedhishead.“It is thevengeanceofangels!”hesaid.

Monsieur Joseph and Monsieur Nicolas raised him and led him to thecourtyard;Godefroidwenttofetchacarriage,andwhentheyputtheoldmanintoitMonsieurNicolassaidtohimgravely:—

“Do not return here,monsieur; the power ofGod is infinite, but humannaturehasitslimits.”

On that dayGodefroidwas admitted to the order of theBrotherhood ofConsolation.

THEEND

Z.MARCAS

Ineversawanybody,notevenamongthemostremarkablemenoftheday,whoseappearancewassostrikingasthisman’s;thestudyofhiscountenanceatfirstgavemeafeelingofgreatmelancholy,andatlastproducedanalmostpainfulimpression.

There was a certain harmony between the man and his name. The Z.precedingMarcas,whichwasseenontheaddressesofhisletters,andwhichhe never omitted from his signature, as the last letter of the alphabet,suggestedsomemysteriousfatality.

MARCAS!saythistwo-syllablednameagainandagain;doyounotfeelasifithadsomesinistermeaning?Doesitnotseemtoyouthatitsownermustbedoomed tomartyrdom?Though foreign, savage, the name has a right to behandeddown toposterity; it iswell constructed, easilypronounced, andhasthebrevitythatbeseemsafamousname.Isitnotpleasantaswellasodd?Butdoesitnotsoundunfinished?

Iwillnottakeituponmyselftoassertthatnameshavenoinfluenceonthedestinyofmen.Thereisacertainsecretandinexplicableconcordoravisiblediscord between the events of a man’s life and his name which is trulysurprising;oftensomeremotebutveryrealcorrelationisrevealed.Ourglobeisround;everythingis linkedtoeverythingelse.Somedayperhapsweshallreverttotheoccultsciences.

Do you not discern in that letter Z an adverse influence? Does it notprefigure the wayward and fantastic progress of a storm-tossed life? Whatwind blew on that letter, which, whatever language we find it in, beginsscarcely fifty words? Marcas’ name was Zephirin; Saint Zephirin is highlyveneratedinBrittany,andMarcaswasaBreton.

Study the name oncemore: ZMarcas!Theman’swhole life lies in thisfantastic juxtapositionof seven letters; seven! themost significant of all thecabalistic numbers.And he died at five-and-thirty, so his life extended oversevenlustres.

Marcas!Doesitnothintofsomepreciousobjectthatisbrokenwithafall,withorwithoutacrash?

IhadfinishedstudyingthelawinParisin1836.IlivedatthattimeintheRueCorneilleinahousewherenonebutstudentscametolodge,oneofthose

largehouseswherethereisawindingstaircasequiteatthebacklightedbelowfrom the street, higher up by borrowed lights, and at the top by a skylight.There were forty furnished rooms—furnished as students’ rooms are!Whatdoesyouthdemandmorethanwasheresupplied?Abed,afewchairs,achestofdrawers,alooking-glass,andatable.Assoonastheskyisbluethestudentopenshiswindow.

But in this street there are no fair neighbors to flirtwith. In front is theOdeon,longsinceclosed,presentingawall that isbeginningtogoblack, itstinygallerywindowsanditsvastexpanseofslateroof.Iwasnotrichenoughtohaveagoodroom;Iwasnotevenrichenoughtohavearoomtomyself.JusteandIsharedadouble-beddedroomonthefifthfloor.

Onoursideofthelandingtherewerebuttworooms—oursandasmallerone, occupied by Z. Marcas, our neighbor. For six months Juste and Iremained inperfect ignoranceof the fact.Theoldwomanwhomanaged thehousehadindeedtoldusthattheroomwasinhabited,butshehadaddedthatweshouldnotbedisturbed,thattheoccupantwasexceedinglyquiet.Infact,for thosesixmonths,wenevermetour fellow-lodger,andweneverheardasoundinhisroom,inspiteofthethinnessofthepartitionthatdividedus—oneofthosewallsoflathandplasterwhicharecommoninParishouses.

Ourroom,alittleoversevenfeethigh,washungwithavilecheappapersprigged with blue. The floor was painted, and knew nothing of the polishgiven by the frotteur’s brush. By our beds there was only a scrap of thincarpet. The chimney opened immediately to the roof, and smoked soabominablythatwewereobligedtoprovideastoveatourownexpense.Ourbedsweremerepaintedwoodencribs like those in schools; on the chimneyshelftherewerebuttwobrasscandlesticks,withorwithouttallowcandlesinthem,andourtwopipeswithsometobaccoinapouchorstrewnabroad,alsothelittlepilesofcigar-ashlefttherebyourvisitorsorourselves.

Apair of calico curtains hung from thebrasswindow rods, andon eachsideofthewindowwasasmallbookcaseincherry-wood,suchaseveryoneknowswho has stared into the shopwindows of theQuartier Latin, and inwhichwekeptthefewbooksnecessaryforourstudies.

The ink in the inkstandwas always in the state of lava congealed in thecraterofavolcano.MaynotanyinkstandnowadaysbecomeaVesuvius?Thepens,alltwisted,servedtocleanthestemsofourpipes;and,inoppositiontoallthelawsofcredit,paperwasevenscarcerthancoin.

How can young men be expected to stay at home in such furnishedlodgings? The students studied in the cafes, the theatre, the Luxembourggardens,ingrisettes’’rooms,eveninthelawschools—anywhereratherthanintheirhorriblerooms—horribleforpurposesofstudy,delightfulassoonasthey

were used for gossiping and smoking in. Put a cloth on the table, and theimpromptudinner sent in from thebest eating-house in theneighborhood—places for four—two of them in petticoats—show a lithograph of this“Interior”totheveriestbigot,andshewillbeboundtosmile.

Wethoughtonlyofamusingourselves.Thereasonforourdissipationlayinthemostseriousfactsofthepoliticsofthetime.JusteandIcouldnotseeanyroomforusinthetwoprofessionsourparentswishedustotakeup.Thereareahundreddoctors,ahundredlawyers,foronethatiswanted.Thecrowdischokingthesetwopathswhicharesupposedtoleadtofortune,butwhicharemerelytwoarenas;menkilleachotherthere,fighting,notindeedwithswordsorfire-arms,butwithintrigueandcalumny,withtremendoustoil,campaignsinthesphereoftheintellectasmurderousasthoseinItalyweretothesoldiersoftheRepublic.Inthesedays,wheneverythingisanintellectualcompetition,amanmustbeabletositforty-eighthoursonendinhischairbeforeatable,asaGeneralcouldremainfortwodaysonhorsebackandinhissaddle.

The throng of aspirants has necessitated a division of the Faculty ofMedicineintocategories.Thereisthephysicianwhowritesandthephysicianwho practises, the political physician, and the physician militant—fourdifferentwaysofbeingaphysician, fourclassesalready filledup.As to thefifth class, that ofphysicianswho sell remedies, there is such a competitionthattheyfighteachotherwithdisgustingadvertisementsonthewallsofParis.

Inall the lawcourts therearealmostasmanylawyersas therearecases.Thepleaderisthrownbackonjournalism,onpolitics,onliterature.Infact,theState, besieged for the smallest appointments under the law, has ended byrequiringthattheapplicantsshouldhavesomelittlefortune.Thepear-shapedheadofthegrocer’ssonisselectedinpreferencetothesquareskullofamanoftalentwhohasnotasou.Workashewill,withallhisenergy,ayoungman,startingfromzero,mayattheendoftenyearsfindhimselfbelowthepointheset out from. In these days, talent must have the good luck which securessuccess to themost incapable; nay,more, if it scorns the base compromiseswhichinsureadvancementtocrawlingmediocrity,itwillnevergeton.

Ifwethoroughlyknewourtime,wealsoknewourselves,andwepreferredthe indolenceof dreamers to aimless stir, easy-goingpleasure to the uselesstoilwhichwouldhave exhaustedour courage andwornout the edgeof ourintelligence.Wehadanalyzedsociallifewhilesmoking,laughing,andloafing.But,thoughelaboratedbysuchmeansasthese,ourreflectionswerenonethelessjudiciousandprofound.

While we were fully conscious of the slavery to which youth iscondemned,wewere amazed at the brutal indifference of the authorities toeverythingconnectedwithintellect,thought,andpoetry.HowoftenhaveJuste

and I exchanged glances when reading the papers as we studied politicalevents, or the debates in the Chamber, and discussed the proceedings of aCourtwhosewilfulignorancecouldfindnoparallelbutintheplatitudeofthecourtiers, the mediocrity of the men forming the hedge round the newly-restoredthrone,allalikedevoidoftalentorbreadthofview,ofdistinctionorlearning,ofinfluenceordignity!

CouldtherebeahighertributetotheCourtofCharlesX.thanthepresentCourt,ifCourtitmaybecalled?Whatahatredofthecountrymaybeseeninthenaturalizationofvulgarforeigners,devoidoftalent,whoareenthronedinthe Chamber of Peers!What a perversion of justice!What an insult to thedistinguished youth, the ambitions native to the soil of France!We lookeduponthesethingsasuponaspectacle,andgroanedoverthem,withouttakinguponourselvestoact.

Juste,whomnooneever sought,andwhonever soughtanyone,was,atfive-and-twenty, a great politician, a man with a wonderful aptitude forapprehending the correlation between remote history and the facts of thepresent and of the future. In 1831, he toldme exactlywhat would and didhappen—the murders, the conspiracies, the ascendency of the Jews, thedifficulty of doing anything in France, the scarcity of talent in the highercircles, and the abundance of intellect in the lowest ranks,where the finestcourageissmotheredundercigarashes.

Whatwastobecomeofhim?Hisparentswishedhimtobeadoctor.Butifhewereadoctor,musthenotwaittwentyyearsforapractice?Youknowwhathe did?No?Well, he is a doctor; but he left France, he is inAsia.At thismomentheisperhapssinkingunderfatigueinadesert,ordyingofthelashesofabarbaroushorde—orperhapsheissomeIndianprince’sprimeminister.

Action ismy vocation. Leaving a civil college at the age of twenty, theonlywayformetoenterthearmywasbyenlistingasacommonsoldier;so,wearyofthedismaloutlookthatlaybeforealawyer,Iacquiredtheknowledgeneededforasailor.IimitateJuste,andkeepoutofFrance,wheremenwaste,inthestruggletomakeway,theenergyneededforthenoblestworks.Followmyexample,friends;Iamgoingwhereamansteershisdestinyashepleases.

Thesegreatresolutionswereformedinthelittleroominthelodging-housein theRueCorneille, in spite of our haunting theBalMusard, flirtingwithgirlsofthetown,andleadingacarelessandapparentlyrecklesslife.Ourplansandargumentslongfloatedintheair.

Marcas, our neighbor, was in some degree the guide who led us to themarginoftheprecipiceorthetorrent,whomadeussoundit,andshowedusbeforehandwhatour fatewouldbe ifwe letourselves fall into it. Itwashewhoputusonourguardagainstthetime-bargainsamanmakeswithpoverty

under the sanction of hope, by accepting precarious situations whence hefights thebattle,carriedalongbythedevioustideofParis—thatgreatharlotwhotakesyouuporleavesyoustranded,smilesorturnsherbackonyouwithequalreadiness,wearsoutthestrongestwillinvexatiouswaiting,andmakesmisfortunewaitonchance.

Atourfirstmeeting,Marcas,asitwere,dazzledus.Onourreturnfromtheschools,a littlebefore thedinner-hour,wewereaccustomed togoup toourroomandremainthereawhile,eitherwaitingfor theother, tolearnwhethertherewereanychangeinourplansfortheevening.Oneday,atfouro’clock,JustemetMarcasonthestairs,andIsawhiminthestreet.Itwasinthemonthof November, and Marcas had no cloak; he wore shoes with heavy soles,corduroy trousers, and a blue double-breasted coat buttoned to the throat,whichgaveamilitaryairtohisbroadchest,allthemoresobecauseheworeablack stock. The costumewas not in itself extraordinary, but it agreedwellwiththeman’smienandcountenance.

My first impressionon seeinghimwasneither surprise,nordistress,norinterest, nor pity, but curiosity mingled with all these feelings. He walkedslowly,with a step that betrayed deepmelancholy, his head forwardwith astoop,butnotbentlikethatofaconscience-strickenman.Thathead,largeandpowerful,whichmightcontainthetreasuresnecessaryforamanofthehighestambition,lookedasifitwereloadedwiththought;itwasweightedwithgriefofmind,buttherewasnotouchofremorseinhisexpression.Astohisface,itmaybesummedupinaword.Acommonsuperstitionhasitthateveryhumancountenanceresemblessomeanimal.TheanimalforMarcaswasthelion.Hishairwas likeamane,hisnosewassortandflat;broadanddentedat the tiplikealion’s;hisbrow,likealion’s,wasstronglymarkedwithadeepmedianfurrow, dividing two powerful bosses. His high, hairy cheek-bones, all themore prominent because his cheeks were so thin, his enormousmouth andhollowjaws,wereaccentuatedbylinesoftawnyshadows.Thisalmostterriblecountenance seemed illuminatedby two lamps—twoeyes,black indeed,butinfinitelysweet,calmanddeep,fullofthought.IfImaysayso,thoseeyeshadahumiliatedexpression.

Marcaswas afraid of looking directly at others, not for himself, but forthose on whom his fascinating gaze might rest; he had a power, and heshunnedusingit;hewouldsparethosehemet,andhefearednotice.Thiswasnot from modesty, but from resignation founded on reason, which haddemonstratedtheimmediateinutilityofhisgifts,theimpossibilityofenteringand living in the sphere forwhich hewas fitted. Those eyes could at timesflashlightnings.Fromthoselipsavoiceofthundermustsurelyproceed;itwasamouthlikeMirabeau’s.

“Ihaveseensuchagrandfellowinthestreet,”saidItoJusteoncomingin.

“Itmustbeourneighbor,”repliedJuste,whodescribed,infact,themanIhadjustmet.“Amanwholiveslikeawood-lousewouldbesuretolooklikethat,”headded.

“Whatdejectionandwhatdignity!”

“Oneistheconsequenceoftheother.”

“Whatruinedhopes!Whatschemesandfailures!”

“Seven leagues of ruins! Obelisks—palaces—towers!—The ruins ofPalmyrainthedesert!”saidJuste,laughing.

SowecalledhimtheRuinsofPalmyra.

Aswewentouttodineatthewretchedeating-houseintheRuedelaHarpetowhichwesubscribed,weaskedthenameofNumber37,andthenheardtheweird nameZ.Marcas. Like boys, aswewere,we repeated itmore than ahundredtimeswithallsortsofcomments,absurdormelancholy,andthenamelentitselftoajest.JustewouldfireofftheZlikearocketrising,z-z-z-z-zed;and after pronouncing the first syllable of the namewith great importance,depictedafallbythedullbrevityofthesecond.

“Now,howandwheredoesthemanlive?”

Fromthisquery,totheinnocentespionageofcuriositytherewasnopausebut that required for carrying out our plan. Instead of loitering about thestreets,webothcamein,eacharmedwithanovel.Wereadwithourearsopen.Andintheperfectsilenceofouratticrooms,weheardtheeven,dullsoundofasleepingmanbreathing.

“Heisasleep,”saidItoJuste,noticingthisfact.

“Atseveno’clock!”repliedtheDoctor.

ThiswasthenamebywhichIcalledJuste,andhecalledmetheKeeperoftheSeals.

“Amanmustbewretchedindeedtosleepasmuchasourneighbor!”criedI, jumping on to the chest of drawerswith a knife inmy hand, towhich acorkscrewwasattached.

Imadearoundholeat thetopofthepartition,aboutasbigasafive-soupiece.Ihadforgottenthattherewouldbenolightintheroom,andonputtingmyeyetothehole,Isawonlydarkness.Ataboutoneinthemorning,whenwehadfinishedourbooksandwereabouttoundress,weheardanoiseinourneighbor’sroom.Hegotup,struckamatch,andlightedhisdip.Igotontothedrawers again, and I then sawMarcas seated at his table and copying law-papers.

Hisroomwasabouthalfthesizeofours;thebedstoodinarecessbythedoor,forthepassageendedthere,anditsbreadthwasaddedtohisgarret;butthegroundonwhichthehousewasbuiltwasevidentlyirregular,fortheparty-wall formed an obtuse angle, and the room was not square. There was nofireplace,onlyasmallearthenwarestove,whiteblotchedwithgreen,ofwhichthepipewentupthroughtheroof.Thewindow,intheskewsideoftheroom,had shabby red curtains. The furniture consisted of an armchair, a table, achair,andawretchedbed-table.Acupboardinthewallheldhisclothes.Thewall-paperwashorrible;evidentlyonlyaservanthadeverbeenlodgedtherebeforeMarcas.

“Whatistobeseen?”askedtheDoctorasIgotdown.

“Lookforyourself,”saidI.

At nine next morning, Marcas was in bed. He had breakfasted off asaveloy;wesawonaplate,withsomecrumbsofbread,theremainsofthattoofamiliardelicacy.Hewasasleep;hedidnotwake till eleven.He thenset toworkagainonthecopyhehadbegunthenightbefore,whichwaslyingonthetable.

Ongoingdownstairsweaskedthepriceofthatroom,andweretoldfifteenfrancsamonth.

Inthecourseofafewdays,wewerefullyinformedastothemodeoflifeofZ.Marcas.Hedidcopying,atsomuchasheetnodoubt, fora law-writerwholivedinthecourtyardoftheSainte-Chapelle.Heworkedhalf thenight;after sleeping fromsix till ten,hebeganagainandwrote till three.Thenhewentouttotakethecopyhomebeforedinner,whichheateatMizerai’sintheRueMichel-le-Comte,atacostofninesous,andcameintobedatsixo’clock.ItbecameknowntousthatMarcasdidnotutterfifteensentencesinamonth;henevertalkedtoanybody,norsaidawordtohimselfinhisdreadfulgarret.

“TheRuinsofPalmyraareterriblysilent!”saidJuste.

Thistaciturnityinamanwhoseappearancewassoimposingwasstrangelysignificant. Sometimes when we met him, we exchanged glances full ofmeaningonbothsides,buttheyneverledtoanyadvances.Insensiblythismanbecametheobjectofoursecretadmiration,thoughweknewnoreasonforit.Diditlieinhissecretlysimplehabits,hismonasticregularity,hishermit-likefrugality,hisidioticallymechanicallabor,allowinghismindtoremainneuterortoworkonhisownlines,seemingtoustohintatanexpectationofsomestrokeofgoodluck,oratsomeforegoneconclusionastohislife?

Afterwandering for a long timeamong theRuinsofPalmyra,we forgotthem—wewere young! Then came theCarnival, the ParisCarnival,which,henceforth, will eclipse the old Carnival of Venice, unless some ill-advised

PrefectofPoliceisantagonistic.

GamblingoughttobeallowedduringtheCarnival;butthestupidmoralistswhohavehadgamblingsuppressedareinertfinanciers,andthisindispensableevil will be re-established among us when it is proved that France leavesmillionsattheGermantables.

ThissplendidCarnivalbroughtustoutterpenury,asitdoeseverystudent.Wegot rid of every object of luxury;we sold our second coats, our secondboots,oursecondwaistcoats—everythingofwhichwehadaduplicate,exceptourfriend.Weatebreadandcoldsausages;welookedwherewewalked;wehadsettoworkinearnest.Weowedtwomonths’rent,andweresureofhavingabillfromtheporterforsixtyoreightyitemseach,andamountingtofortyorfiftyfrancs.Wemadenonoise,anddidnotlaughaswecrossedthelittlehallat the bottom of the stairs; we commonly took it at a flying leap from theloweststepintothestreet.Onthedaywhenwefirstfoundourselvesbereftoftobaccoforourpipes,itstruckusthatforsomedayswehadbeeneatingbreadwithoutanykindofbutter.

Greatwasourdistress.

“Notobacco!”saidtheDoctor.

“Nocloak!”saidtheKeeperoftheSeals.

“Ah, you rascals, youwould dress as the postillion deLongjumeau, youwould appear as Debardeurs, sup in the morning, and breakfast at night atVery’s—sometimesevenat theRocherdeCancale.—Drybread foryou,myboys!Why,”saidI,inabigbassvoice,“youdeservetosleepunderthebed,youarenotworthytolieinit—”

“Yes,yes;but,KeeperoftheSeals,thereisnomoretobacco!”saidJuste.

“Itishightimetowritehome,toouraunts,ourmothers,andoursisters,totellthemwehavenounderlinenleft,thatthewearandtearofPariswouldruingarments of wire. Then we will solve an elegant chemical problem bytransmutinglinenintosilver.”

“Butwemustlivetillwegettheanswer.”

“Well,Iwillgoandbringoutaloanamongsuchofourfriendsasmaystillhavesomecapitaltoinvest.”

“Andhowmuchwillyoufind?”

“Saytenfrancs!”repliedIwithpride.

Itwasmidnight.Marcashadheardeverything.Heknockedatourdoor.

“Messieurs,”saidhe,“hereissometobacco;youcanrepaymeonthefirst

opportunity.”

Wewerestruck,notbytheoffer,whichweaccepted,butbytherich,deep,fullvoiceinwhichitwasmade;atoneonlycomparabletotheloweststringofPaganini’sviolin.Marcasvanishedwithoutwaitingforourthanks.

JusteandI lookedateachotherwithoutaword.Toberescuedbyamanevidentlypoorer thanourselves!Justesatdowntowrite toeverymemberofhisfamily,andIwentofftoeffectaloan.Ibroughtintwentyfrancslentmebyafellow-provincial.Inthatevilbuthappydaygamblingwasstilltolerated,and in its lodes,ashardas therockyoreofBrazil,youngmen,byriskingasmall sum,had a chanceofwinning a fewgoldpieces.My friend, too, hadsomeTurkishtobaccobroughthomefromConstantinoplebyasailor,andhegave me quite as much as we had taken from Z. Marcas. I conveyed thesplendidcargointoport,andwewentintriumphtorepayourneighborwithatawnywigofTurkishtobaccoforhisdarkCaporal.

“Youaredeterminednot tobemydebtors,”saidhe.“Youaregivingmegoldforcopper.—Youareboys—goodboys——”

The sentences, spoken invarying tones,werevariously emphasized.Thewordswerenothing,buttheexpression!—Thatmadeusfriendsoftenyears’standingatonce.

Marcas,onhearinguscoming,hadcovereduphispapers;weunderstoodthatitwouldbetakingalibertytoalludetohismeansofsubsistence,andfeltashamed of havingwatched him.His cupboard stood open; in it thereweretwoshirts,awhitenecktieandarazor.Therazormademeshudder.Alooking-glass,worthfivefrancsperhaps,hungnearthewindow.

Theman’sfewandsimplemovementshadasortofsavagegrandeur.TheDoctor and I looked at each other, wondering what we could say in reply.Juste,seeingthatIwasspeechless,askedMarcasjestingly:

“Youcultivateliterature,monsieur?”

“Farfromit!”repliedMarcas.“Ishouldnotbesowealthy.”

“Ifancied,”saidI,“thatpoetryalone,inthesedays,wasamplysufficienttoprovideamanwithlodgingsasbadasours.”

MyremarkmadeMarcassmile,andthesmilegaveacharmtohisyellowface.

“Ambitionisnotalessseveretaskmastertothosewhofail,”saidhe.“You,who are beginning life, walk in the beaten paths. Never dream of risingsuperior,youwillberuined!”

“Youadviseustostayjustasweare?”saidtheDoctor,smiling.

Thereissomethingsoinfectiousandchildlikeinthepleasantriesofyouth,thatMarcassmiledagaininreply.

“Whatincidentscanhavegivenyouthisdetestablephilosophy?”askedI.

“I forgot oncemore that chance is the result of an immense equation ofwhichweknownotallthefactors.Whenwestartfromzerotoworkuptotheunit, the chances are incalculable. To ambitious men Paris is an immenseroulette table, and every young man fancies he can hit on a successfulprogressionofnumbers.”

HeofferedusthetobaccoIhadbroughtthatwemightsmokewithhim;theDoctorwent tofetchourpipes;Marcasfilledhis,and thenhecametosit inour room,bringing the tobaccowithhim,since therewerebut twochairs inhis.Juste,asbriskasasquirrel,ranout,andreturnedwithaboycarryingthreebottlesofBordeaux,someBriecheese,andaloaf.

“Hah!”saidItomyself,“fifteenfrancs,”andIwasrighttoasou.

Justegravelylaidfivefrancsonthechimney-shelf.

There are immeasurable differences between the gregariousman and themanwho lives closest to nature. ToussaintLouverture, after hewas caught,diedwithoutspeakingaword.Napoleon,transplantedtoarock,talkedlikeamagpie—hewantedtoaccountforhimself.Z.Marcaserredinthesameway,but forourbenefitonly.Silence inall itsmajesty is tobe foundonly in thesavage.Thereisneveracriminalwho,thoughhemightlethissecretsfallwithhisheadintothebasketofsawdustdoesnotfeelthepurelysocialimpulsetotellthemtosomebody.

Nay, I am wrong. We have seen one Iroquois of the Faubourg Saint-Marceau who raised the Parisian to the level of the natural savage—arepublican,aconspirator,aFrenchman,anoldman,whooutdidallwehaveheardofNegrodetermination,andallthatCoopertellsusofthetenacityandcoolness of the Redskins under defeat. Morey, the Guatimozin of the“Mountain,” preserved an attitude unparalleled in the annals of Europeanjustice.

This is what Marcas told us during the small hours, sandwiching hisdiscoursewithslicesofbreadspreadwithcheeseandwasheddownwithwine.Allthetobaccowasburnedout.Nowandthenthehackneycoachesclatteringacross thePlacedel’Odeon,or theomnibuses toilingpast,sentuptheirdullrumbling,asiftoremindusthatPariswasstillclosetous.

HisfamilylivedatVitre;hisfatherandmotherhadfifteenhundredfrancsayearinthefunds.HehadreceivedaneducationgratisinaSeminary,buthadrefused to enter the priesthood. He felt in himself the fires of immense

ambition,andhadcometoParisonfootattheageoftwenty,thepossessoroftwohundredfrancs.Hehadstudied the law,working inanattorney’soffice,wherehehadrisen tobesuperiorclerk.Hehad takenhisdoctor’sdegree inlaw,hadmasteredtheoldandmoderncodes,andcouldholdhisownwiththemost famous pleaders.He had studied the law of nations, andwas familiarwith European treaties and international practice. He had studied men andthings in five capitals—London, Berlin, Vienna, Petersburg, andConstantinople.

Nomanwasbetter informed thanheas to the rulesof theChamber.Forfive years he had been reporter of the debates for a daily paper. He spokeextempore and admirably, and could go on for a long time in that deep,appealing voice which had struck us to the soul. Indeed, he proved by thenarrativeofhislifethathewasagreatorator,aconciseorator,seriousandyetfull of piercing eloquence; he resembled Berryer in his fervor and in theimpetuswhichcommandsthesympathyofthemasses,andwaslikeThiersinrefinementandskill;buthewouldhavebeen lessdiffuse, less indifficultiesforaconclusion.Hehadintendedtoriserapidlytopowerwithoutburdeninghimself first with the doctrines necessary to begin with, for a man inopposition,butanincubuslatertothestatesman.

Marcashadlearnedeverythingthatarealstatesmanshouldknow;indeed,his amazement was considerable when he had occasion to discern the utterignorance of men who have risen to the administration of public affairs inFrance.Thoughinhimitwasvocationthathadledtostudy,naturehadbeengenerous and bestowed all that cannot be acquired—keen perceptions, self-command,animblewit,rapidjudgment,decisiveness,and,whatisthegeniusofthesemen,fertilityinresource.

BythetimewhenMarcasthoughthimselfdulyequipped,Francewastornby intestinedivisionsarisingfromthe triumphof theHouseofOrleansovertheelderbranchoftheBourbons.

The field of politicalwarfare is evidently changed.Civilwar henceforthcannot last for long, andwill not be fought out in the provinces. In Francesuchstruggleswillbeofbriefdurationandattheseatofgovernment;andthebattlewillbethecloseofthemoralcontestwhichwillhavebeenbroughttoanissuebysuperiorminds.Thisstateof thingswillcontinueso longasFrancehasherpresentsingularformofgovernment,whichhasnoanalogywiththatof anyother country; for there is nomore resemblancebetween theEnglishandtheFrenchconstitutionsthanbetweenthetwolands.

ThusMarcas’ placewas in the political press.Being poor and unable tosecure his election, he hoped tomake a sudden appearance.He resolved onmakingthegreatestpossiblesacrificeforamanofsuperiorintellect,towork

asasubordinatetosomerichandambitiousdeputy.LikeasecondBonaparte,he sought his Barras; the new Colbert hoped to find a Mazarin. He didimmenseservices,andhedidthemthenandthere;heassumednoimportance,hemadenoboast,hedidnotcomplainofingratitude.Hedidtheminthehopethat his patron would put him in a position to be elected deputy; Marcaswished fornothingbut a loan thatmight enablehim topurchase ahouse inParis,thequalificationrequiredbylaw.RichardIII.askedfornothingbuthishorse.

InthreeyearsMarcashadmadehisman—oneofthefiftysupposedgreatstatesmenwho are the battledores withwhich two cunning players toss theministerial portfolios exactly as themanbehind thepuppet-showhitsPunchagainst theconstable inhisstreet theatre,andcountsonalwaysgettingpaid.ThismanexistedonlybyMarcas,buthehadjustbrainsenoughtoappreciatethevalueofhis“ghost”andtoknowthatMarcas,ifheevercametothefront,would remain there, would be indispensable, while he himself would betranslated to the polar zone of Luxembourg. So he determined to putinsurmountableobstaclesinthewayofhisMentor’sadvancement,andhidhispurposeunder the semblanceof theutmost sincerity.Likeallmeanmen,hecould dissimulate to perfection, and he soonmade progress in the ways ofingratitude,forhefeltthathemustkillMarcas,nottobekilledbyhim.Thesetwomen,apparentlysounited,hatedeachotherassoonasonehaddeceivedtheother.

The politician was made one of a ministry; Marcas remained in theopposition to hinder hisman from being attacked; nay, by skilful tactics hewonhimtheapplauseoftheopposition.Toexcusehimselffornotrewardinghis subaltern, the chief pointed out the impossibility of finding a placesuddenly for aman on the other side,without a great deal ofmanoeuvring.Marcas had hoped confidently for a place to enable him tomarry, and thusacquirethequalificationhesoardentlydesired.Hewastwo-and-thirty,andtheChambererelongmustbedissolved.Havingdetectedhismaninthisflagrantact of bad faith, he overthrew him, or at any rate contributed largely to hisoverthrow,andcoveredhimwithmud.

Afallenminister,ifheistoriseagaintopower,mustshowthatheistobefeared; thisman, intoxicatedbyRoyalglibness,hadfanciedthathispositionwouldbepermanent;heacknowledgedhisdelinquencies;besidesconfessingthem,hedidMarcasasmallmoneyservice,forMarcashadgotintodebt.Hesubsidized the newspaper on which Marcas worked, and made him themanagerofit.

Though he despised the man, Marcas, who, practically, was beingsubsidized too, consented to take the part of the fallen minister. Withoutunmasking at once all the batteries of his superior intellect,Marcas came a

littlefurtherthanbefore;heshowedhalfhisshrewdness.TheMinistrylastedonlyahundredandeightydays;itwasswallowedup.Marcashadputhimselfinto communication with certain deputies, had moulded them like dough,leaving each impressed with a high opinion of his talent; his puppet againbecame amember of theMinistry, and then the paper wasministerial. TheMinistryunitedthepaperwithanother,solelytosqueezeoutMarcas,whointhisfusionhadtomakewayforarichandinsolentrival,whosenamewaswellknown,andwhoalreadyhadhisfootinthestirrup.

Marcas relapsed into utter destitution; his haughty patronwell knew thedepthsintowhichhehadcasthim.

Wherewashe togo?Theministerialpapers,privilywarned,wouldhavenothingtosaytohim.Theoppositionpapersdidnotcaretoadmithimtotheiroffices. Marcas could side neither with the Republicans nor with theLegitimists, two parties whose triumph would mean the overthrow ofeverythingthatnowis.

“Ambitiousmenlikeafastholdonthings,”saidhewithasmile.

Helivedbywritingafewarticlesoncommercialaffairs,andcontributedtoone of those encyclopedias brought out by speculation and not by learning.Finally a paperwas founded,whichwas destined to live but two years, butwhichsecuredhisservices.Fromthatmomentherenewedhisconnectionwiththeminister’senemies;he joined thepartywhowereworkingfor the falloftheGovernment;andassoonashispickaxehadfreeplay,itfell.

Thispaperhadnow for sixmonthsceased toexist;hehad failed to findemployment of any kind; he was spoken of as a dangerous man, calumnyattackedhim;hehadunmaskedahugefinancialandmercantilejobbyafewarticlesandapamphlet.Hewasknowntobeamouthpieceofabankerwhowassaidtohavepaidhimlargely,andfromwhomhewassupposedtoexpectsomepatronageinreturnforhischampionship.Marcas,disgustedbymenandthings,wornoutbyfiveyearsoffighting,regardedasafreelanceratherthanasagreat leader, crushedby thenecessityof earninghisdailybread,whichhindered him from gaining ground, in despair at the influence exerted bymoneyovermind,andgivenovertodirepoverty,buriedhimselfinagarret,tomakethirtysousaday,thesumstrictlyansweringtohisneeds.Meditationhadleveledadesertallroundhim.Hereadthepaperstobeinformedofwhatwasgoingon.PozzodiBorgohadoncelivedlikethisforsometime.

Marcas,nodoubt,wasplanninga seriousattack, accustominghimself todissimulation, and punishing himself for his blunders by Pythagoreanmuteness.Buthedidnottellusthereasonsforhisconduct.

It is impossible togiveyouan ideaof the scenesof thehighest comedy

that lay behind this algebraic statement of his career; his useless patiencedoggingthefootstepsoffortune,whichpresentlytookwings,hislongtrampsover the thorny brakes of Paris, his breathless chases as a petitioner, hisattemptstowinoverfools;theschemeslaidonlytofailthroughtheinfluenceof some frivolouswoman; themeetingswithmenofbusinesswhoexpectedtheircapitaltobringthemplacesandapeerage,aswellaslargeinterest.Thenthehopes rising ina toweringwaveonly tobreak in foamon the shoal; thewonders wrought in reconciling adverse interests which, after workingtogetherforaweek,fellasunder;theannoyance,athousandtimesrepeated,ofseeingaduncedecoratedwiththeLegionofHonor,andpreferred,thoughasignorant as a shop-boy, to a man of talent. Then, what Marcas called thestratagemsofstupidity—youstrikeaman,andheseemsconvinced,henodshishead—everythingissettled;nextday,thisindia-rubberball,flattenedforamoment,hasrecovereditselfinthecourseofthenight;itisasfullofwindasever;youmustbeginalloveragain;andyougoontillyouunderstandthatyouarenot dealingwith aman, butwith a lumpof gum that loses shape in thesunshine.

These thousand annoyances, this vast waste of human energy on barrenspots, the difficulty of achieving any good, the incredible facility of doingmischief; two strong games played out, twicewon, and then twice lost; thehatred of a statesman—a blockhead with a painted face and a wig, but inwhomtheworldbelieved—allthesethings,greatandsmall,hadnotcrushed,but for themomenthaddashedMarcas. In thedayswhenmoneyhad comeinto his hands, his fingers had not clutched it; he had allowed himself theexquisitepleasureofsending itall tohis family—tohissisters,hisbrothers,hisoldfather.LikeNapoleoninhisfall,heaskedfornomorethanthirtysousaday,andanymanofenergycanearnthirtysousforaday’sworkinParis.

When Marcas had finished the story of his life, intermingled withreflections,maxims, and observations, revealing him as a great politician, afewquestionsandanswersonbothsidesastotheprogressofaffairsinFranceandinEuropewereenoughtoprovetousthathewasarealstatesman;foraman may be quickly and easily judged when he can be brought on to theground of immediate difficulties: there is a certain Shibboleth for men ofsuperiortalents,andwewereofthetribeofmodernLeviteswithoutbelongingas yet to theTemple.As I have said, our frivolity covered certain purposeswhichJustehascarriedout,andwhichIamabouttoexecute.

Whenwehaddonetalking,weallthreewentout,coldasitwas,towalkintheLuxembourggardens till the dinner hour. In the course of thatwalk ourconversation,grave throughout, turnedon thepainfulaspectsof thepoliticalsituation. Each of us contributed his remarks, his comment, or his jest, apleasantryoraproverb.Thiswasnolongerexclusivelyadiscussionoflifeon

the colossal scale just described byMarcas, the soldier of politicalwarfare.Norwasit thedistressfulmonologueofthewreckednavigator,strandedinagarret in theHotelCorneille; itwas a dialogue inwhich twowell-informedyoungmen,havinggauged the times they lived in,wereendeavoring,underthe guidance of a man of talent, to gain some light on their own futureprospects.

“Why,” asked Juste, “did you not wait patiently for an opportunity, andimitatetheonlymanwhohasbeenabletokeeptheleadsincetheRevolutionofJulybyholdinghisheadabovewater?”

“HaveInotsaidthatweneverknowwheretherootsofchancelie?Carrellwasinidenticallythesamepositionastheoratoryouspeakof.Thatgloomyyoungman,ofabitterspirit,hadawholegovernmentinhishead;themanofwhomyouspeakhadnoideabeyondmountingonthecrupperofeveryevent.Of the two,Carrelwas thebetterman.Well,onebecomesaminister,Carrelremainedajournalist;theincompletebutcraftiermanisliving;Carrelisdead.

“Imaypointoutthatyourmanhasforfifteenyearsbeenmakinghisway,andisbutmakingitstill.Hemayyetbecaughtandcrushedbetweentwocarsfull of intrigues on the highroad to power.He has no house; he has not thefavor of the palace like Metternich; nor, like Villele, the protection of acompactmajority.

“Idonotbelievethatthepresentstateofthingswilllasttenyearslonger.Hence,supposingIshouldhavesuchpoorgoodluck,Iamalreadytoolatetoavoid being swept away by the commotion I foresee. I should need to beestablishedinasuperiorposition.”

“Whatcommotion?”askedJuste.

“AUGUST, 1830,” said Marcas in solemn tones, holding out his handtowards Paris; “AUGUST, the offspring ofYouthwhich bound the sheaves,andofIntellectwhichhadripenedtheharvest,forgottoprovideforYouthandIntellect.

“Youthwillexplodeliketheboilerofasteam-engine.YouthhasnooutletinFrance;itisgatheringanavalancheofunderratedcapabilities,oflegitimateandrestlessambitions;youngmenarenotmarryingnow;familiescannottellwhat todowith their children.Whatwill the thunderclapbe thatwill shakedown thesemasses? I knownot, but theywill crashdown into themidst ofthings,andoverthroweverything.Thesearelawsofhydrostaticswhichactonthe human race; the Roman Empire had failed to understand them, and theBarbarichordescamedown.

“The Barbaric hordes now are the intelligent class. The laws ofoverpressureareat thismomentactingslowlyandsilently inourmidst.The

Government is the great criminal; it does not appreciate the two powers towhichitoweseverything;ithasalloweditshandstobetiedbytheabsurditiesoftheContract;itisbound,readytobethevictim.

“Louis XIV., Napoleon, England, all were or are eager for intelligentyouth. In France the young are condemned by the new legislation, by theblunderingprinciplesofelectiverights,bytheunsoundnessoftheministerialconstitution.

“Look at the elective Chamber; you will find no deputies of thirty; theyouthofRichelieuandofMazarin,ofTurenneandofColbert,ofPittandofSaint-Just, of Napoleon and of PrinceMetternich, would find no admissionthere;Burke,Sheridan,orFoxcouldnotwinseats.Evenifpoliticalmajorityhadbeen fixed at one-and-twenty, and eligibilityhadbeen relievedof everydisabling qualification, theDepartmentswould have returned the very samemembers,mendevoidofpolitical talent, unable to speakwithoutmurderingFrenchgrammar,andamongwhom,intenyears,scarcelyonestatesmanhasbeenfound.

“Thecausesofanimpendingeventmaybeseen,buttheeventitselfcannotbe foretold. At this moment the youth of France is being driven intoRepublicanism, because it believes that the Republic would bring itemancipation.Itwillalwaysremembertheyoungrepresentativesofthepeopleand the young army leaders! The imprudence of the Government is onlycomparabletoitsavarice.”

Thatdayleftitsechoesinourlives.MarcasconfirmedusinourresolutiontoleaveFrance,whereyoungmenoftalentandenergyarecrushedundertheweightofsuccessfulcommonplace,envious,andinsatiablemiddleage.

WedinedtogetherintheRuedelaHarpe.WethenceforthfeltforMarcasthemostrespectfulaffection;hegaveusthemostpracticalaidinthesphereofthemind. Thatman knew everything; he had studied everything. For us hecast his eye over the whole civilized world, seeking the country whereopeningswouldbeatonce themostabundantand themost favorable to thesuccessofourplans.Heindicatedwhatshouldbethegoalofourstudies;hebid usmake haste, explaining to us that timewas precious, that emigrationwouldpresentlybegin, and that its effectwouldbe todepriveFranceof thecream of its powers and of its youthful talent; that their intelligence,necessarily sharpened,would select the best places, and that the great thingwastobefirstinthefield.

Thenceforward,we often sat late atwork under the lamp.Our generousinstructorwrotesomenotesforourguidance—twopagesforJusteandthreeforme—fullof invaluableadvice—thesortof informationwhichexperiencealonecan supply, such landmarksasonlygeniuscanplace. In thosepapers,

smelling of tobacco, and covered with writing so vile as to be almosthieroglyphic, there are suggestions for a fortune, and forecasts of unerringacumen.Therearehintsas tocertainpartsofAmericaandAsiawhichhavebeenfullyjustified,bothbeforeandsinceJusteandIcouldsetout.

Marcas, like us, was in the most abject poverty. He earned, indeed, hisdaily bread, but he had neither linen, clothes, nor shoes. He did not makehimselfoutanybetterthanhewas;hisdreamshadbeenofluxuryaswellasofpower. He did not admit that this was the real Marcas; he abandoned thisperson, indeed, to the caprices of life.What he lived by was the breath ofambition; he dreamed of revenge while blaming himself for yielding to soshallowafeeling.Thetruestatesmanought,aboveallthings,tobesuperiortovulgarpassions;likethemanofscience.Itwasinthesedaysofdirenecessitythat Marcas seemed to us so great—nay, so terrible; there was somethingawfulinthegazewhichsawanotherworldthanthatwhichstrikestheeyeofordinarymen.Toushewasasubjectofcontemplationandastonishment;fortheyoung—whichofushasnotknownit?—theyounghaveakeencravingtoadmire;theylovetoattachthemselves,andarenaturallyinclinedtosubmittothemen they feel tobesuperior,as theyare todevote themselves toagreatcause.

Oursurprisewaschieflyrousedbyhisindifferenceinmattersofsentiment;women had no place in his life.Whenwe spoke of thismatter, a perennialthemeofconversationamongFrenchmen,hesimplyremarked:

“Gownscosttoomuch.”

HesawthelookthatpassedbetweenJusteandme,andwenton:

“Yes,fartoomuch.Thewomanyoubuy—andsheistheleastexpensive—takesagreatdealofmoney.Thewomanwhogivesherselftakesallyourtime!Womanextinguisheseveryenergy,everyambition.Napoleon reducedher towhatsheshouldbe.Fromthatpointofview,hereallywasgreat.HedidnotindulgesuchruinousfanciesofLouisXIV.andLouisXV.;atthesametimehecouldloveinsecret.”

We discovered that, like Pitt, who made England is wife, Marcas boreFranceinhisheart;heidolizedhiscountry;hehadnotathoughtthatwasnotforhisnativeland.Hisfuryatfeelingthathehadinhishandstheremedyfortheevilswhich sodeeply saddenedhim,andcouldnot apply it, ate intohissoul,andthisragewasincreasedbytheinferiorityofFranceat that time,ascomparedwithRussiaandEngland.Franceathird-ratepower!Thiscrycameupagainandagaininhisconversation.Theintestinaldisordersofhiscountryhadenteredintohissoul.AllthecontestsbetweentheCourtandtheChamber,showing, as theydid, incessant change and constant vacillation,whichmustinjuretheprosperityofthecountry,hescoffedatasbackstairssquabbles.

“Thisispeaceatthecostofthefuture,”saidhe.

One evening Juste and Iwere atwork, sitting in perfect silence.Marcashadjustrisentotoilathiscopying,forhehadrefusedourassistanceinspiteof ourmost earnest entreaties.We had offered to take it in turns to copy abatchofmanuscript,sothatheshoulddobutathirdofhisdistastefultask;hehadbeenquiteangry,andwehadceasedtoinsist.

Weheard the sound of gentlemanly boots in the passage, and raised ourheads,lookingateachother.TherewasatapatMarcas’door—henevertookthekeyoutofthelock—andweheardtheheroanswer:

“Comein.”Then—“What,youhere,monsieur?”

“I,myself,”repliedtheretiredminister.

ItwastheDiocletianofthisunknownmartyr.

Forsome timeheandourneighborconversed inanundertone.SuddenlyMarcas,whosevoicehadbeenheardbutrarely,asisnaturalinadialogueinwhich theapplicantbeginsbysetting forth thesituation,brokeout loudly inreplytosomeofferwehadnotoverheard.

“Youwouldlaughatmeforafool,”criedhe,“ifItookyouatyourword.Jesuitsareathingofthepast,butJesuitismiseternal.YourMachiavelismandyour generosity are equally hollow and untrustworthy. You can make yourown calculations, butwho can calculate on you?YourCourt ismade up ofowlswhofearthelight,ofoldmenwhoquakeinthepresenceoftheyoung,orwhosimplydisregardthem.TheGovernmentisformedonthesamepatternastheCourt.YouhavehunteduptheremainsoftheEmpire,astheRestorationenlistedtheVoltigeursofLouisXIV.

“Hithertotheevasionsofcowardicehavebeentakenforthemanoeuvringofability;butdangerswillcome,andtheyoungergenerationwillriseastheydidin1790.Theydidgrandthingsthen.—Justnowyouchangeministriesasasick man turns in his bed; these oscillations betray the weakness of theGovernment. You work on an underhand system of policy which will beturnedagainstyou,forFrancewillbetiredofyourshuffling.Francewillnottellyouthatsheistiredofyou;amanneverknowswhencehisruincomes;itis the historian’s task to find out; but you will undoubtedly perish as therewardofnothavingtheyouthofFrancetolendyouitsstrengthandenergy;forhavinghatedreallycapablemen;fornothavinglovinglychosenthemfromthisnoblegeneration;forhavinginallcasespreferredmediocrity.

“Youhavecome toaskmysupport,butyouareanatom in thatdecrepitheapwhichismadehideousbyself-interest,whichtremblesandsquirms,and,because it issomean, tries tomakeFrancemean too.Mystrongnature,my

ideas,wouldworklikepoisoninyou;twiceyouhavetrickedme,twicehaveIoverthrownyou. Ifweunitea third time, itmustbeavery seriousmatter. IshouldkillmyselfifIallowedmyselftobeduped;forIshouldbetoblame,notyou.”

Thenweheardthehumblestentreaties,themostferventadjuration,nottodeprivethecountryofsuchsuperiortalents.Themanspokeofpatriotism,andMarcasutteredasignificant“Ouh!ouh!”Helaughedathiswould-bepatron.Then the statesman was more explicit; he bowed to the superiority of hiserewhilecounselor;hepledgedhimselftoenableMarcastoremaininoffice,tobeelecteddeputy;thenheofferedhimahighappointment,promisinghimthat he, the speaker, would thenceforth be the subordinate of amanwhosesubalternhewasonlyworthytobe.Hewasinthenewly-formedministry,andhewouldnot return to powerunlessMarcashad a post in proportion to hismerit; he had already made it a condition, Marcas had been regarded asindispensable.

Marcasrefused.

“I havenever before been in a position to keepmypromises; here is anopportunityofprovingmyselffaithfultomyword,andyoufailme.”

TothisMarcasmadenoreply.Thebootswereagainaudibleinthepassageonthewaytothestairs.

“Marcas!Marcas!”webothcried,rushingintohisroom.“Whyrefuse?Hereally meant it. His offers are very handsome; at any rate, go to see theministers.”

In a twinkling, we had givenMarcas a hundred reasons. Theminister’svoicewassincere;withoutseeinghim,wehadfeltsurethathewashonest.

“Ihavenoclothes,”repliedMarcas.

“Relyonus,”saidJuste,withaglanceatme.

Marcashadthecouragetotrustus;alightflashedinhiseye,hepushedhisfingersthroughhishair,liftingitfromhisforeheadwithagesturethatshowedsome confidence in his luck andwhen he had thus unveiled his face, so tospeak, we saw in him a man absolutely unknown to us—Marcas sublime,Marcas in his power!Hismindwas in its element—the bird restored to thefreeair,thefishtothewater,thehorsegallopingacrosstheplain.

Itwastransient.Hisbrowcloudedagain,hehad,itwouldseem,avisionofhisfate.Haltingdoubthadfollowedcloseontheheelsofwhite-wingedhope.

Welefthimtohimself.

“Now,then,”saidItotheDoctor,“wehavegivenourword;howareweto

keepit?”

“Wewillsleepuponit,”saidJuste,“andto-morrowmorningwewilltalkitover.”

NextmorningwewentforawalkintheLuxembourg.

Wehadhadtimetothinkovertheincidentofthepastnight,andwerebothequally surprised at the lack of address shown by Marcas in the minordifficultiesoflife—he,amanwhoneversawanydifficultiesinthesolutionofthe hardest problems of abstract or practical politics. But these elevatedcharacterscanallbetrippeduponagrainofsand,andwill,likethegrandestenterprise, miss fire for want of a thousand francs. It is the old story ofNapoleon,who,forlackofapairofboots,didnotsetoutforIndia.

“Well,whathaveyouhitupon?”askedJuste.

“Ihavethoughtofawaytogethimacompleteoutfit.”

“Where?”

“FromHumann.”

“How?”

“Humann,myboy,nevergoestohiscustomers—hiscustomersgotohim;sothathedoesnotknowwhetherIamrichorpoor.HeonlyknowsthatIdresswelland lookdecent in theclotheshemakesforme.Ishall tellhimthatanuncle ofmine has dropped in from the country, and that his indifference inmatters of dress is quite a discredit to me in the upper circles where I amtrying to find awife.—Itwill not beHumann if he sends in his bill beforethreemonths.”

TheDoctorthoughtthisacapitalideaforavaudeville,butpoorenoughinreallife,anddoubtedmysuccess.ButIgiveyoumywordofhonor,HumanndressedMarcas,and,beinganartist, turnedhimoutasapoliticalpersonageoughttobedressed.

JustelentMarcastwohundredfrancsingold,theproductoftwowatchesbought on credit, andpawned at theMont-de-Piete. Formypart, I had saidnothingofthesixshirtsandallnecessarylinen,whichcostmenomorethanthe pleasure of asking for them from a forewoman in a shop whom I hadtreatedtoMusard’sduringthecarnival.

Marcasacceptedeverything,thankingusnomorethanheought.Heonlyinquiredastothemeansbywhichwehadgotpossessionofsuchriches,andwemadehimlaughforthelasttime.WelookedonourMarcasasshipowners,whentheyhaveexhaustedtheircreditandeveryresourceattheircommanditfitoutavessel,mustlookonitasitputsouttosea.

HereCharleswassilent;heseemedcrushedbyhismemories.

“Well,”criedtheaudience,“andwhathappened?”

“Iwilltellyouinafewwords—forthisisnotromance—itishistory.”

WesawnomoreofMarcas.Theadministrationlastedforthreemonths;itfellattheendofthesession.ThenMarcascamebacktous,workedtodeath.Hehadsoundedthecraterofpower;hecameawayfromitwiththebeginningsofbrainfever.Thediseasemaderapidprogress;wenursedhim.Justeatoncecalledinthechiefphysicianofthehospitalwherehewasworkingashouse-surgeon. I was then living alone in our room, and I was themost attentiveattendant;butcareandsciencealikewere invain.By themonthofJanuary,1838,Marcashimselffeltthathehadbutafewdaystolive.

Themanwhosesoulandbrainhehadbeenforsixmonthsneverevensentto inquire after him. Marcas expressed the greatest contempt for theGovernment;heseemedtodoubtwhatthefateofFrancemightbe,anditwasthisdoubt thathadmadehimill.Hehad,he thought,detectedtreasonin theheart of power, not tangible, seizable treason, the result of facts, but thetreasonofasystem,thesubordinationofnationalintereststoselfishends.Hisbelief in the degradation of the country was enough to aggravate hiscomplaint.

Imyselfwaswitnesstotheproposalsmadetohimbyoneoftheleadersoftheantagonisticpartywhichhehadfoughtagainst.Hishatredofthemenhehad tried to serve was so virulent, that he would gladly have joined thecoalitionthatwasabouttobeformedamongcertainambitiousspiritswho,atleast,hadoneideaincommon—thatofshakingofftheyokeoftheCourt.ButMarcascouldonlyreplytotheenvoyinthewordsoftheHoteldeVille:

“Itistoolate!”

Marcasdidnotleavemoneyenoughtopayforhisfuneral.JusteandIhadgreat difficulty in savinghim from the ignominyof a pauper’s bier, andwealonefollowedthecoffinofZ.Marcas,whichwasdroppedintothecommongraveofthecemeteryofMont-Parnasse.

Welookedsadlyateachotheraswelistenedtothistale,thelastweheardfromthelipsofCharlesRabourdinthedaybeforeheembarkedatleHavreonabrigthatwastoconveyhimtotheislandsofMalay.WeallknewmorethanoneMarcas,morethanonevictimofhisdevotiontoaparty,repaidbybetrayalorneglect.

LESJARDIES,May1840.

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