UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 BROWSING ROOM
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 Jgonore tie
 
 e toe Baljac 
 
 PRIVATE LIFE 
 
 VOLUME V
 
 LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND COMPLETE COPIES 
 
 713 
 
 NO.
 
 S AVAR US AT THE WEDDING 
 
 When Albert finally succeeded in meeting Madame 
 d'Argaiolo, it was at Florence, just when her wed- 
 ding was taking place. Our poor friend fainted in 
 the church, and has never been able, even when he 
 was at death's door, to obtain an explanation from 
 that woman, who must have an extraordinary some- 
 thing in place of a heart.
 
 THE NOVELS 
 
 OF 
 
 HONORfi DE BALZAC 
 
 NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME 
 COMPLETELY TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH 
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 BY GEORGE B. IVES 
 
 WITH FIVE ETCHINGS BY GUSTAVE GREUX, CLAUDE 
 
 FAIVRE AND HENRI-JOSEPH DUBOUCHET, AFTER 
 
 PAINTINGS BY ORESTE CORTAZZO 
 
 IN ONE VOLUME 
 
 PRINTED ONLY FOR SUBSCRIBERS BY 
 
 GEORGE BARRIE & SON, PHILADELPHIA
 
 COPYRIGHTED, 1897, BY G. B. A SON 
 
 f> i *' , V ; "*> 1 ' 
 
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 -4 :-?
 
 O 
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 189940
 
 TO MADAME EM1LE DE G1RARDIN 
 
 (3)
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 One of the few salons frequented by the Arch- 
 bishop of Besancon under the Restoration, and the 
 one to which he was most partial, was that of 
 Madame la Baronne de Watteville. A single word 
 concerning this lady, who was perhaps the most 
 important personage of her sex in Besancon. 
 
 Monsieur de Watteville, grand-nephew of the 
 famous Watteville, luckiest and most illustrious of 
 murderers and renegades, whose extraordinary ad- 
 ventures are too much a matter of history to be nar- 
 rated here, was as peaceable as his great-uncle was 
 turbulent After passing his early years in Franche- 
 Comte like a worm in the chink of a wainscoting, he 
 had married the heiress of the celebrated De Rupt 
 family. Mademoiselle de Rupt brought an estate 
 worth twenty thousand francs a year to add to 
 Baron de Watteville's ten thousand a year in lands 
 and houses. The Swiss gentleman's crest the 
 Wattevilles are Swiss was quartered upon the 
 ancient escutcheon of the De Rupts. This mar- 
 riage, which had been agreed upon since 1802, was 
 celebrated in 1815, after the second Restoration. 
 Three years after the birth of a daughter, all 
 
 (5)
 
 6 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Madame de Watteville's grandparents were dead and 
 their estates settled. They thereupon sold Mon- 
 sieur de Watteville's house and took up their 
 abode on Rue de la Prefecture in the noble old 
 De Rupt mansion, whose vast garden reaches to 
 Rue du Perron. Madame de Watteville as a girl 
 was religiously inclined, and was even more so 
 after her marriage. She was one of the queens 
 of the devout sisterhood which gave the best society 
 of Besangon a gloomy air and prudish manners 
 quite in harmony with the character of the city. 
 
 Monsieur le Baron de Watteville, a dry, thin, 
 spiritless creature, had the appearance of being 
 utterly worn out, although nobody could say by 
 what, for he enjoyed the densest ignorance ; but as 
 his wife was a warm blonde, and as her natural 
 harshness of character had become proverbial they 
 still say: angular as Madame de Watteville cer- 
 tain wags among the magistracy averred that the 
 baron had worn himself out against that rock. 
 Rupt is evidently derived from rupes. Keen observ- 
 ers of social phenomena will not fail to remark that 
 Rosalie was the only fruit of the union of the Watte- 
 villes and the De Rupts. 
 
 Monsieur de Watteville passed his life in a sump- 
 tuous turner's workshop; he turned! As a comple- 
 ment to that mode of existence he had adopted the 
 fad of making collections. In the eyes of philo- 
 sophical doctors who have given their attention to 
 the study of madness, this tendency to make collec- 
 tions is the first step toward mental alienation, when
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 7 
 
 it expends itself upon trifles. Baron de Watteville 
 collected shells, insects and geological fragments 
 from Besancon and its neighborhood. A few con- 
 tradictory spirits, women especially, said of Mon- 
 sieur de Watteville: 
 
 "He has a noble mind! he saw at the outset of 
 his married life that he couldn't get the upper hand 
 of his wife, so he devoted his energies to a mechan- 
 ical occupation and good living." 
 
 The De Rupt mansion did not lack a certain 
 splendor worthy of Louis XIV., and bore marks of 
 the nobility of the two families that were united in 
 1815. There was an air of old-time magnificence 
 that knew nothing of fashion. The candelabra of 
 leaf-shaped crystals, the Chinese silk hangings, the 
 damasks, the carpets, the gilded furniture, all were 
 in harmony with the old-fashioned liveries and the 
 old servants. Although served in tarnished family 
 plate, around a glass epergne embellished with 
 pieces of Saxon porcelain, everything partaken of 
 was of the best The wines selected by Monsieur 
 de Watteville, who, to occupy his time and give 
 variety to his life, acted as his own butler, enjoyed 
 departmental celebrity, so to speak. Madame de 
 Watteville's fortune was considerable, but her hus- 
 band's, which consisted of the estate of Rouxey, 
 worth about ten thousand a year, was not aug- 
 mented by any inheritance. It is useless to remark 
 that the very close intimacy between Madame de 
 Watteville and the archbishop had resulted in do- 
 mesticating beneath her roof the three or four clever
 
 8 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 and distinguished abbes in the archbishopric, who 
 were not averse to the pleasures of the table. At 
 a grand dinner given in honor of some wedding or 
 other in the month of September, 1834, just when 
 the women were drawn up in a circle in front of the 
 fireplace in the salon, and the men standing in 
 groups at the windows, the announcement of the 
 arrival of Monsieur 1'Abbe de Grancey was greeted 
 with a loud murmur of interest 
 
 "Well, how about the lawsuit?" they cried. 
 
 "Won!" replied the vicar-general. "The decree 
 of the court, that we despaired of obtaining, you 
 know why " 
 
 This was an allusion to the composition of the 
 Royal Court since 1830. The Legitimists had 
 almost all resigned therefrom. 
 
 " The decree is in our favor on every point, 
 and reverses the judgment of the court below." 
 
 "Everybody thought you had lost" 
 
 "And so we should have but for me. I told our 
 advocate to take himself off to Paris, and just as the 
 battle was about to begin I succeeded in retaining 
 another advocate, to whom we owe our success 
 an extraordinary man " 
 
 "Of Besancon?" artlessly inquired Monsieur de 
 Watteville. 
 
 "Of Besancon," the Abbe de Grancey replied. 
 
 "Ah! yes, Savaron," observed a handsome youth 
 named Soulas, who was sitting beside the baroness. 
 
 "He spent five or six nights on the case, and 
 went through all the pleadings and documents; he
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 9 
 
 had seven or eight conferences of several hours each 
 with me," continued Monsieur de Grancey, who 
 had not appeared at the De Rupt mansion for three 
 weeks. "At last Monsieur Savaron completely 
 routed the famous advocate our opponents had down 
 from Paris. The young man's performance was 
 marvelous, so the councillors say. Thus, the chap- 
 ter has won a double victory: it has triumphed in 
 law, and in politics it has overcome liberalism in 
 the person of the defender of our H6tel de Ville. 
 'Our opponents,' said our advocate, 'should not ex- 
 pect to find everywhere a willingness to rend arch- 
 bishoprics asunder ' The president was compelled 
 to demand silence. All the Bisontins applauded. 
 Thus the ownership of the buildings of the old con- 
 vent remains in the chapter of the cathedral of 
 Besancon. Monsieur Savaron, moreover, invited 
 his professional brother from Paris to dine with 
 him after the adjournment In accepting the invi- 
 tation he said: 'Honor to whom honor is due!' 
 and congratulated him without the slightest ill- 
 feeling." 
 
 "Where did you unearth this advocate, pray?" 
 inquired Madame de Watteville. "I have never 
 heard that name before." 
 
 "But you can see his windows from here," re- 
 plied the vicar-general. "Monsieur Savaron lives 
 on Rue du Perron, and there is only a wall between 
 his garden and yours." 
 
 "He's not of the Comte, is he?" said Monsieur 
 de Watteville.
 
 10 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "He comes so near being of nowhere, that nobody 
 knows whence he is," said Madame de Chavon- 
 court 
 
 "But who is he?" asked Madame de Watteville, 
 as she took Monsieur de Soulas's arm to lead the 
 way to the dining-room. "If he's a stranger how 
 did he happen to settle in Besancon? It's a very 
 strange notion for an advocate." 
 
 "Very strange!" echoed young AmedeedeSoulas, 
 as to whose previous life a few words must be said 
 to make this narrative more intelligible. 
 
 From time immemorial France and England have 
 carried on a large traffic in trifles, a traffic the 
 more generally pursued in that it is not subject to 
 the tyranny of the custom-house. The fashions 
 that we call English in Paris are called French in 
 London, and vice -versa. The hostility between the 
 two nations disappears on two points in the 
 matter of words and in that of clothing. God Save 
 the King, the English national air, is a piece of music 
 composed by Lulli for the choruses of Esther or 
 Athalie. The paniers brought to Paris by an 
 Englishwoman were invented in London, everyone 
 knows why, by a Frenchwoman, the famous Duch- 
 ess of Portsmouth; we began by making such fun 
 of them that the first Englishwoman who appeared 
 in one at the Tuileries came within an ace of being 
 trampled on by the mob ; but they were adopted. 
 That fashion tyrannized over the women of Europe 
 for a half-century. After the peace of 1815 we 
 joked for a whole year about the Englishwomen's
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS II 
 
 long waists, and all Paris went to see Potier and 
 Brunet in Les Anglaises pour Rire ; but in 1816 and 
 1817 the Frenchwoman's girdle, which used to cut 
 her breast in two in 1814, descended by degrees 
 until it outlined her hips. During the last ten 
 years England has bestowed upon us two little 
 linguistic gifts. To the incroyable, the merveilleux, 
 the elegant, the three heirs of the petits-maitres cox- 
 combs whose etymology is far from refined, have 
 succeeded the dandy and the lion. The lion did not 
 engender the lionne. The lionne we owe to Alfred 
 de Musset's famous ballad : Ave^ vous vu dans Bar- 
 celone C'est ma maifresse, ma lionne; there has 
 been a fusion, or, if you please, confusion, between 
 the two terms and the two dominant ideas. When 
 Paris, which consumes as many chefs-d'oeuvre as 
 absurdities, is entertained by one of the latter, it 
 is hard to deprive the provinces of it And so, as 
 soon as the lion began to exhibit in Paris his mane 
 and beard and moustaches, his waistcoats and his 
 monocle, held in place without the assistance of his 
 hands by drawing together the cheek and the arch 
 of the eyebrow, the capitals of certain departments 
 witnessed an invasion of sub-lions who protested, 
 by the elegance of their trouser-straps, against the 
 careless habits of their compatriots. Thus Be- 
 sancon, in 1834, was honored with the presence of a 
 lion in the person of this Monsieur Amedee-Syl- 
 vain- Jacques de Soulas, written Souleyas at the 
 time of the Spanish occupation. Amedee de Soulas 
 is probably the only person in Besancon descended
 
 12 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 from a Spanish family. Spain sent people into 
 Franche-Comte to look after her interests, but very 
 few Spaniards settled there. The Soulases remained 
 there because of their relations with Cardinal de 
 Granvelle. Young Monsieur de Soulas was always 
 talking about leaving Besancon, a melancholy, reli- 
 gion-ridden town, but little interested in literary 
 matters, a garrison town, addicted to war, whose 
 manners and morals and general appearance are 
 worth the trouble of describing. This opinion made 
 it excusable for him to live, like a man who was 
 uncertain of his future, in three very scantily fur- 
 nished rooms at the end of Rue Neuve, where it 
 enters Rue de la Prefecture. 
 
 Young Monsieur de Soulas could not dispense with 
 having a tiger. This tiger was the son of one of 
 his farmers, a little stocky fellow of fourteen, named 
 Babylas. The lion had dressed his tiger with ex- 
 cellent taste: a short iron-gray redingote with a 
 polished leather belt, blue plush breeches, red waist- 
 coat, varnished top-boots, round hat with black 
 band, yellow buttons with the Soulas arms. Amedee 
 kept the boy in white cotton gloves, gave him his 
 washing and thirty-six francs a month, out of which 
 he had to board himself, monstrous wages in the 
 eyes of the grisettes of Besancon : four hundred and 
 twenty francs to a boy of fifteen, without counting 
 perquisites ! The perquisites consisted of the pro- 
 ceeds of the sale of cast-off clothing, a pourboire 
 when Soulas sold one of his two horses, and the sale 
 of manure. The two horses, although kept on a
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 13 
 
 basis of rigid economy, cost him eight hundred 
 francs a year on an average. His account for sun- 
 dries at Paris, perfumery, cravats, jewelry, jars of 
 varnish, clothes, amounted to twelve hundred 
 francs. If you add together the groom or tiger, 
 horses, luxuries, and rent at six hundred francs, you 
 will arrive at a total of three thousand francs. Now, 
 young Monsieur de Soulas's father had left him only 
 about four thousand a year, produced by certain 
 beggarly farms which required a constant outlay, 
 and that same outlay, too, rendered the income from 
 them painfully uncertain. Barely three francs a 
 day remained for the lion's living expenses, pocket- 
 money and gambling. So he very often dined out, 
 and breakfasted with remarkable frugality. When 
 he was absolutely driven to dine at his own expense 
 he sent his tiger to fetch two dishes from a cook- 
 shop, on which he rarely expended more than 
 twenty-five sous. Young Monsieur de Soulas was 
 looked upon as a spendthrift, a man who threw 
 money away upon foolish things ; whereas the poor 
 fellow struggled to make the two ends of the year 
 meet with a talent and craft that would have won 
 everlasting renown for a good housekeeper. People 
 have no idea, especially at Besancon, what an im- 
 pression may be produced at a provincial capital by 
 six francs' worth of varnish displayed upon boots or 
 shoes, yellow gloves at fifty sous cleaned with the 
 utmost secrecy so that they may be worn three 
 times, cravats at ten francs that last three months, 
 four waistcoats at twenty-five francs, and trousers
 
 14 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 that fit tightly around the boot! How could it be 
 otherwise, when we see women in Paris bestowing 
 particular attention upon idiots who come to their 
 houses and outshine the most eminent men, because 
 of such frivolous appurtenances which anyone can 
 procure for fifteen louis, hair-curling and a Holland 
 linen shirt included? 
 
 If this unfortunate youth seems to you to have 
 become a lion at very small expense, understand 
 that Amedee de Soulas had been three times to 
 Switzerland, traveling by carriage by easy stages ; 
 twice to Paris and once from Paris to England. He 
 was looked upon as an experienced traveler, and 
 could say : When I was in England, etc. The dow- 
 agers in like manner would say to him : You, who 
 have been in England, etc. He had been as far south 
 as Lombardy and had seen the Italian lakes. He 
 read all the new books. When he was cleaning his 
 gloves, Babylas the tiger would say to callers: 
 "Monsieur is at work. " An attempt had been made 
 to depreciate the young man by saying of him : 
 "He is a man of -very advanced ideas." Amedee 
 possessed a talent for uttering fashionable common- 
 places with true Besancon gravity, whereby he ob- 
 tained credit for being one of the most enlightened 
 members of the nobility. He wore fashionable 
 jewelry and his thoughts were guided by the press. 
 
 In 1834 Amedee was a young man of twenty- 
 five, of medium height and dark complexion, chest 
 tremendously expanded, shoulders thrown back in a 
 corresponding degree, thighs somewhat rounded, a
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 15 
 
 foot already inclined to be fat, a white, plump hand, 
 a fringe of beard, moustaches which rivaled those 
 of the garrison, a fat, red, good-natured face, flat 
 nose, brown eyes wholly devoid of expression ; not 
 a trace of his Spanish blood, by the way. He was 
 progressing rapidly toward an obesity fatal to his 
 pretensions. His nails were well cared for, his 
 beard neatly brushed, the most trifling details of his 
 dress looked after with the scrupulousness of an 
 Englishman. So it was that Amedee de Soulas was 
 considered to be the handsomest man in Besancon. 
 A hairdresser, who came to curl his hair at a stated 
 hour another luxury at sixty francs a year ! ex- 
 tolled him as the sovereign arbiter of fashion and 
 refinement. Amedee slept late, made his toilette, 
 and rode out to one of his farms about noon to in- 
 dulge in pistol-shooting. He devoted himself to 
 that occupation as earnestly as Lord Byron did in 
 his last days. Then he would return to the city 
 about three o'clock, gazed at with admiring eyes as 
 he rode along, by the grisettes and everybody who 
 happened to be at their windows. After certain 
 supposititious labors which were supposed to occupy 
 his time until four o'clock, he would dress to dine 
 out, and pass the evening playing whist in the 
 salons of the Bisontine aristocracy; at eleven he 
 went home and to bed. No man's life could be 
 more open, more virtuous or more irreproachable, 
 for he was scrupulously regular at religious services 
 on Sundays and holy days.
 
 In order that you may understand what an abnor- 
 mal existence this was, it is necessary to say a few 
 words concerning the peculiarities of Besancon. No 
 city offers a more obstinate, dogged resistance to 
 progress. At Besancon the public officials, govern- 
 ment clerks, soldiers, all those, in short, who are sent 
 thither by the government or from Paris to occupy 
 any position whatsoever, are designated as a whole 
 by the expressive name of the colony. The colony 
 is neutral ground, the only place where, as at 
 church, the noble and the bourgeois society of the 
 city can meet Upon that neutral ground, arise 
 from a word, a look or a gesture, enmities between 
 family and family, between bourgeois women and 
 women of noble birth, which last until death, and 
 dig still deeper the impassable chasms by which the 
 two divisions of society are separated. With the 
 exception of the Clermont-Mont-Saint- Jeans, the 
 Beauffremonts, the De Sceys, the Gramonts and 
 some few others who lived only on their country 
 estates in Franche-Comte, the Bisontine nobility 
 dates back no more than two centuries, to the time 
 of the conquest by Louis XIV. It is essentially a 
 whig society, stiff-necked and solemn and dogmatic 
 and haughty and arrogant to a degree surpassing 
 even the court of Vienna, for in those qualities the 
 Bisontines would put the Viennese salons to shame. 
 2 (17)
 
 1 8 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Of Victor Hugo, Nodier, Fourier, the glories of the 
 city, even the names are never heard, nobody thinks 
 about them. Marriages between noble families are 
 arranged while the children are in their cradles, for 
 the most trifling matters receive the same attention 
 among them as those of the most serious importance. 
 No stranger nor outsider has ever made his way 
 into one of those houses, and not even titled colo- 
 nels or other officers belonging to the best families 
 in France when there happen to be any such in 
 the garrison can gain admission there without 
 diplomatic manoeuvres that Prince de Talleyrand 
 would have been very glad to know the secret of for 
 use in a congress. In 1834 Amedee was the only 
 man in Besancon who wore trouser-straps. This 
 will explain young Monsieur de Soulas's lionship. 
 A short anecdote will serve to give you a clear con- 
 ception of Besancon. 
 
 Some little time before the day on which this 
 story begins the prefecture found it necessary to 
 send to Paris for an editor for its journal, in order 
 to defend itself against the little Gazette which the 
 great Gazette had set up there, and against the 
 Patriote which was acting under the goad of the 
 Republic. Paris sent down a young man who knew 
 nothing about the Comte, and began operations with 
 a leading article of the Charivari school. The 
 leader of the government party, an official from the 
 H6tel-de-Ville, sent for the journalist and said to 
 him: 
 
 "Understand, monsieur, that we are a serious
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 19 
 
 people here yes, more than serious, stolid, we 
 don't want to be amused and we fly into a rage if 
 we have to laugh. Be as hard to digest as the 
 densest amplifications of the Revue des Deux 
 Mondes, and you will hardly come up to the Bison- 
 tine standard." 
 
 The editor did not need a second hint, and talked 
 philosophical patois impossible to understand. He 
 made a complete success. 
 
 If young Monsieur de Soulas did not lose ground 
 in the esteem of the salons of Besancon it was pure 
 vanity on their part; the aristocracy was very glad 
 to have the air of modernizing itself, and to be able 
 to present to noble Parisians, traveling in the Comte, 
 a young man who was almost like themselves. All 
 this hidden toil, all this dust thrown in the eyes, 
 this apparent folly, this latent sagacity, had an 
 object, otherwise the Bisontine lion would not have 
 remained in the province. Amedee desired to effect 
 an advantageous match by proving some day that 
 his farms were not mortgaged and that he had saved 
 money. He desired to hold possession of the city, 
 to be the comeliest and most fashionable man there, 
 in order to secure first the attention, then the hand 
 of Mademoiselle Rosalie de Watteville: ah! 
 
 In 1830, when young Monsieur de Soulas entered 
 upon the profession of dandy, Rosalie was fourteen 
 years old. In 1834, therefore, Mademoiselle de 
 Watteville was approaching the age at which young 
 persons are readily attracted by all the peculiari- 
 ties which commended Amedee to the notice of the
 
 20 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 city. There are many lions who become lions from 
 selfish motives or as a speculation. The Watte- 
 villes, who had enjoyed an income of fifty thousand 
 francs for twelve years, spent no more than twenty- 
 four thousand, although they entertained the best 
 society of Besancon on Mondays and Fridays. On 
 Mondays they gave a dinner-party, and on Fridays 
 an evening-party. Think of the results of twenty- 
 six thousand francs laid by every year for twelve 
 years, and invested with the good judgment char- 
 acteristic of those old families! It was universally 
 believed that Madame de Watteville, considering that 
 her investments in real estate were large enough, 
 had put her savings into the three per cents in 1830. 
 Rosalie's dot therefore should amount to about forty 
 thousand francs a year. So for five years the lion 
 had burrowed like a mole to get the upper hand of 
 the strait-laced baroness's esteem, while maintaining 
 an attitude calculated to flatter Mademoiselle de 
 Watteville's self-love. The baroness was in the 
 secret of the expedients by which Amedee succeeded 
 in maintaining his position in Besancon, and es- 
 teemed him highly therefor. Soulas had taken his 
 place beneath the baroness's wing when she was 
 thirty years old, he had then had the audacity to 
 admire her and make her his idol ; he had reached a 
 point at which he could venture to tell her, and no 
 other woman in the world, the free tone of conversa- 
 tion which almost all pious females love to listen to, 
 being authorized by their transcendent virtue to gaze 
 into abysses without falling in and to contemplate
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 21 
 
 the snares of the devil without getting caught 
 therein. Do you understand why this lion did not 
 permit himself to indulge in the slightest semblance 
 of a love-affair? he kept his life clean and lived in 
 the street, so to speak, in order that he might play 
 the part of immolated lover for the baroness's bene- 
 fit, and regale her mind with the sins she forbade 
 her flesh to commit. A man who possesses the 
 privilege of insinuating equivocal words in the ears 
 of a devotee is a charming man in her eyes. If this 
 exemplary lion had been more familiar with the 
 workings of the human heart, he might without risk 
 have permitted himself to indulge in some slight 
 love-affairs among the grisettes of Besancon, who 
 looked upon him as a king: his interests with the 
 rigid, prudish baroness would have been advanced 
 thereby. To Rosalie this Cato seemed a spend- 
 thrift; he professed to be devoted to a fashionable 
 life, he described to her the existence of a society 
 woman in Paris, whither he expected to go as a 
 deputy. These skilful manoeuvres were rewarded 
 with complete success. In 1834, the mothers of the 
 forty noble families which composed the cream of 
 Besancon society pointed to young Monsieur 
 Amedee deSoulas as the most delightful young man 
 in the city; no one dared dispute the possession of 
 that title with the cock of the walk at the De Rupt 
 mansion, and all Besancon looked upon him as the 
 future husband of Rosalie de Watteville. There 
 had already been some words exchanged upon this 
 subject between the baroness and Amedee words
 
 22 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 to which the baron's alleged insignificance imparted 
 defmiteness. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Watteville, whose fortune, des- 
 tined some day to be enormous, made her a person- 
 age of considerable importance, had been brought up 
 within the four walls of the De Rupt mansion, 
 which her mother rarely left, so fond was she of the 
 dear archbishop, and had been held in close 
 restraint by an exclusively religious education and 
 by the despotism of her mother, who kept a tight 
 rein upon her from principle. Rosalie knew abso- 
 lutely nothing. Does one know anything from 
 having studied geography in Guthrie, sacred his- 
 tory, ancient history, the history of France and the 
 four rules, all passed through the sieve of an old 
 Jesuit? Drawing, music and dancing were prohib- 
 ited, as being more likely to corrupt than to embel- 
 lish life. The baroness taught her daughter every- 
 thing it is possible to know about tapestry work and 
 the petty occupations of the sex: sewing, knitting 
 and crocheting. At seventeen Rosalie had read 
 nothing but the Lettres Edifiantes and works upon 
 heraldry. Never had a newspaper dishonored her 
 glance. She heard mass every morning at the 
 cathedral, where she went with her mother, re- 
 turned to breakfast, worked in her room after a 
 short walk in the garden, and sat beside the 
 baroness, receiving callers until dinner time; after 
 dinner, except on Mondays and Fridays, she accom- 
 panied Madame de Watteville to parties, where she 
 could say nothing more than the maternal decree
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 23 
 
 permitted. At eighteen Mademoiselle de Watteville 
 was a slender, frail, flat- breasted, light-haired, 
 pale-faced girl of the utmost insignificance. Her 
 pale blue eyes were enlivened by the play of the 
 eyelids, which cast a shadow on her cheeks when 
 she looked down. A few freckles marred the purity 
 of her well-shaped brow. Her face was exactly like 
 the faces of saints drawn by Albert Durer and the 
 painters before Perugino: the same round, yet finely 
 drawn outline, the same delicacy of feature, sad- 
 dened by religious ecstasy, the same solemn inno- 
 cence. Everything about her, even to her attitude, 
 reminded one of the virgins whose beauty in all its 
 mystic splendor is apparent only to the eyes of a 
 careful connoisseur. Her hands were beautifully 
 shaped, but red, and she had the loveliest foot, a 
 real chatelaine's foot. Ordinarily she wore simple 
 cotton dresses; but on Sundays and holidays her 
 mother allowed her to wear silk. Her dresses, all 
 made in Besancon, made her almost ugly ; while her 
 mother tried to borrow grace and beauty and style 
 from the fashions of Paris, whence she procured the 
 smallest details of her toilette by availing herself of 
 the services of young Monsieur de Soulas. Rosalie 
 had never worn silk stockings or laced boots, only 
 cotton stockings and leather shoes. On gala days 
 she was arrayed in a muslin gown, with bronzed 
 leather shoes, and with no ornaments in her hair. 
 Her education and her modest bearing concealed a 
 character of iron. Physiologists and all profound 
 observers of human nature will tell you, to your
 
 24 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 great astonishment perhaps, that, in families, pecu- 
 liarities of temperament and character, genius, in- 
 tellectual qualities, reappear at long intervals 
 exactly the same as what are called hereditary dis- 
 eases. Thus talent, like the gout, sometimes skips 
 two generations. We have a notable instance of 
 this phenomenon in the case of George Sand, in 
 whom mental force, the will and the imagination of 
 Marshal Saxe, whose natural granddaughter she is, 
 seem to live again. The peremptory disposition, 
 the romantic audacity of the famous De Watteville 
 were reproduced in the person of this grandniece, 
 augmented by the tenacity and indomitable pride of 
 the De Rupt blood. But these qualities defects, if 
 you choose were as deeply hidden in the girl's 
 seemingly pliable and feeble mind, as the boiling 
 lava in the bowels of a mountain before it becomes 
 a volcano. Madame de Watteville alone may have 
 had a suspicion of this legacy of the two bloods. 
 She was so harsh to her Rosalie that one day, when 
 the archbishop reproved her for treating her so 
 cruelly, she replied: 
 
 "Let me manage her, monseigneur; I know her! 
 she has more than one Beelzebub in her skin!" 
 
 The baroness watched her daughter the more 
 closely because she thought her own reputation as a 
 mother was at stake. Indeed there was nothing 
 else for her to do. Clotilde de Rupt, then thirty- 
 five years of age, and almost the widow of a hus- 
 band who turned egg-cups in all sorts of wood, who 
 was mad on the subject of making iron-wood circles
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 25 
 
 with six radii, who made snuff-boxes for his friends, 
 was flirting in good earnest with Amedee de Soulas. 
 When that young man was in the house she would 
 send her daughter away and call her back time after 
 time, trying to detect indications of jealousy in her 
 young heart, so that she might have an opportunity 
 to suppress them. She imitated the police in its 
 relations with the Republicans; but it was all in 
 vain, for Rosalie betrayed no symptoms of rebel- 
 lion. Thereupon the austere devotee reproved her 
 daughter for her utter insensibility. Rosalie knew 
 her mother well enough to be sure that if she had 
 found young Monsieur de Soulas to her liking, she 
 would have drawn down a sharp rebuke upon her 
 own head. And so, to all her mother's turmoils she 
 replied by some of those phrases so inappropriately 
 called Jesuitical, for the Jesuits were men of strong 
 character, and this sort of dissimulation is the 
 breastwork behind which weakness seeks shelter. 
 The mother therefore treated her daughter as an 
 artful minx. If unhappily a gleam of the real char- 
 acter of the Wattevilles and De Rupts happened to 
 break through the clouds, the mother made use of 
 the respect children owe their parents as a weapon 
 to reduce Rosalie to passive obedience. This 
 secret combat was waged in the most retired pre- 
 cincts of private life, behind closed doors. The 
 vicar-general, the dear Abbe de Grancey, the friend 
 of the defunct archbishop, great as was his power as 
 grand-penitentiary of the diocese, was unable to 
 divine whether this struggle had given birth to a
 
 26 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 feeling of hatred between the mother and daughter, 
 whether the mother was jealous in anticipation, or 
 whether the attention Amedee was paying the young 
 woman in her mother's person had gone beyond 
 bounds. In his capacity of friend of the family he 
 was neither the mother's confessor nor the daugh- 
 ter's. Rosalie, who had been somewhat over- 
 whipped, morally speaking, apropos of young 
 Monsieur de Soulas, could not bear him, to use a 
 familiar expression. And so, when he spoke to her, 
 attempting to take her heart by surprise, she always 
 received him very coldly. This repugnance, visi- 
 ble to no eye but her mother's, was a constant sub- 
 ject of admonition. 
 
 "Rosalie, I don't see why you pretend to be so 
 indifferent to Amedee; is it because he's a friend of 
 the family, and because your father and I are fond of 
 him?" 
 
 "Why! mamma," the poor child retorted one 
 day, "if I received him pleasantly I should be even 
 more to blame, shouldn't I ? " 
 
 "What does this mean ?" cried Madame de Watte- 
 ville. "What do you mean by saying such things? 
 Your mother is unjust, perhaps, and according to 
 you, she would be unjust in all cases! Never allow 
 your lips to make such an answer to your mother!" 
 etc. 
 
 This quarrel lasted three hours and three-quar- 
 ters, and Rosalie called attention to that fact. Her 
 mother turned pale with rage, and sent the girl to 
 her room, where she puzzled over the meaning of
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 27 
 
 the episode, but could make nothing of it, so inno- 
 cent was she! So young Monsieur de Soulas, who 
 was believed by all Besancon to be very near the 
 goal toward which he was journeying with flowing 
 cravats, aided by jars of varnish, and which caused 
 him to use so much black wax for his moustaches, 
 so many pretty waistcoats, horseshoes and corsets 
 for he wore a leather vest, the lion's corset; 
 Amedee, we say, was farther from it than the first 
 chance comer, although he had the dignified and 
 noble Abbe de Grancey on his side. Moreover, 
 Rosalie did not know, at the moment when this nar- 
 rative begins, that young Comte Amedee de Soulas 
 was her destined spouse.
 
 "Madame," said Monsieur de Soulas, addressing 
 the baroness while the guests were waiting for the 
 hot soup to cool, and attempting to impart a flavor 
 of romance to his story, "one fine morning the 
 mail-coach deposited at the Hotel National a gen- 
 tleman from Paris, who, after looking about in 
 search of apartments finally decided upon Mademoi- 
 selle Galard's first floor, Rue du Perron. The for- 
 eigner then went straight to the mayor's office to 
 deposit a declaration of his purpose to make Be- 
 sancon his domicile for all purposes. Finally he 
 caused his name to be entered on the roll of advo- 
 cates of the royal court upon presenting his creden- 
 tials duly authenticated, and he left a card with all 
 his new brethren of the profession, the government 
 officials, the councilors of the court, and all the 
 members of the tribunal, a card on which were the 
 words: ALBERT SAVARON." 
 
 "The name of Savaron is a famous one," said 
 Rosalie, who was very strong in heraldic knowledge. 
 "The Savarons of Savarus are one of the most 
 ancient, noble and wealthy families in Belgium." 
 
 "He is a Frenchman and a poet," replied Amedee 
 de Soulas. "If he wants to adopt the crest of the 
 Savarons of Savarus he must put a bar across it 
 There is but one Savarus left in Brabant, a wealthy 
 heiress of marriageable age." 
 (29)
 
 30 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "The bar is a sign of illegitimacy, of course, but 
 the bastard of a Comte de Savarus is a noble," re- 
 joined Mademoiselle de Watteville. 
 
 "Enough, Rosalie!" said the baroness. 
 
 "You wanted her to know about heraldry," said 
 the baron, "and she knows all about it." 
 
 "Go on, Amedee." 
 
 "You understand that in a city where everyone 
 is classified, known, dissected, boxed up, labeled, 
 numbered, as in Besancon, Albert Savaron was re- 
 ceived by our advocates without any difficulty. 
 Everyone was satisfied when he had said: 'Here's 
 a poor devil who doesn't know his Besancon. Who 
 the devil could have advised him to come here? 
 what does he expect to do here ? The idea of send- 
 ing his card to the magistrates instead of calling on 
 them in person what a blunder!' And so after 
 three days no more was heard of Savaron. He took 
 for his servant the late Monsieur Galard's valet, 
 Jerome, who can cook a little. It has been all the 
 easier to forget Albert Savaron, because no one has 
 seen him or met him." 
 
 "Pray, doesn't he go to mass?" said Madame de 
 Chavoncourt. 
 
 "He goes to Saint-Pierre on Sunday, but to the 
 first mass, at eight o'clock. He gets up every night 
 between one and two o'clock, works till eight, 
 breakfasts, and then works again. He walks fifty 
 or sixty times around his garden, returns to the 
 house, dines, and goes to bed between six and 
 seven."
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 31 
 
 "How do you know all this?" Madame de Cha- 
 voncourt asked Monsieur de Soulas. 
 
 "In the first place, madame, I live on Rue Neuve, 
 at the corner of Rue du Perron, and my rooms over- 
 look the house where this mysterious individual 
 lodges ; then, my tiger and Jerome are in the habit 
 of exchanging ideas." 
 
 "So you talk with Babylas, do you?" 
 
 "What do you expect me to do when I'm out 
 driving?" 
 
 "Well, how came you to take a stranger for your 
 advocate?" said the baroness, thus restoring the 
 conversation to the vicar-general. 
 
 "The first president played this man the trick of 
 appointing him to defend at the assizes a half-witted 
 peasant, accused of forgery. Monsieur Savaron 
 procured the poor fellow's acquittal by establishing 
 his innocence and proving that he was merely the 
 tool of the real culprits. Not only did his system of 
 defense prevail, but he necessitated the arrest of 
 two of the witnesses, who, being proved guilty, 
 were convicted and sentenced. His argument made 
 a great impression on the court and jury. One of 
 the latter, a merchant, placed a suit of his own, in- 
 volving a very nice question, in Monsieur Sava- 
 ron's hands the next day, and he won it. In the 
 plight in which we were left by the impossibility 
 of Monsieur Berryer's coming to Besancon, Mon- 
 sieur de Garcenault advised us to retain this 
 Monsieur Albert Savaron, predicting a success- 
 ful result. As soon as I saw and heard him, I
 
 32 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 felt perfect confidence in him, and I made no 
 mistake." 
 
 "Is there anything so extraordinary about him?" 
 asked Madame de Chavoncourt. 
 
 "Yes," was the vicar-general's reply. 
 
 "Very well, tell us about it," said Madame de 
 Watteville. 
 
 "The first time I saw him," said the Abbe de 
 Grancey, "he received me in the room next the 
 reception-room Goodman Galard's salon which 
 he has had painted like old oak, and the walls of 
 which are lined with law-books in bookcases 
 painted like the woodwork. The painted wain- 
 scoting and the books are the only things that 
 smack of luxury, for the furniture consists of an old 
 carved wooden desk, six old chairs covered with 
 tapestry, carmelite-colored window curtains, bor- 
 dered with green, and a green carpet on the floor. 
 The stove in the reception-room heats this library 
 as well. As I waited, I did not think of my advo- 
 cate as a man with youthful features. That strange 
 frame was quite in harmony with the picture it 
 enclosed, for Monsieur Savaron appeared in a black 
 merino dressing-gown, gathered in at the waist by 
 a girdle of red cord, red slippers, a red flannel waist- 
 coat and a red cap." 
 
 "The devil's livery!" cried Madame de Watte- 
 ville. 
 
 "True," said the abbe, "but a superb head; black 
 hair with some few white hairs already sprinkled 
 through it hair such as the St. Peters and St. Pauls
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 33 
 
 have in our pictures, thick and glossy, coarse as 
 horsehair a neck white and round as a woman's, a 
 magnificent forehead divided by the furrow which 
 great projects, great thoughts, profound meditation 
 imprint upon great men's foreheads; olive complex- 
 ion with spots of red, square nose, eyes of fire, hol- 
 low cheeks marked by two long wrinkles eloquent 
 of suffering, mouth curled in a sardonic smile, small 
 chin, a little too short and very thin; he has the 
 mark of the crow's foot on his temples, sunken eyes 
 rolling about under the arches of the eyebrows like 
 two glowing balls; but, despite all these indications 
 of violent passion, his bearing is profoundly calm 
 and resigned, his voice of a penetrating sweetness 
 which surprised me at the Palais by its varied 
 modulations the voice of a born orator, now smooth 
 and cunning, now plausible and insinuating, speaking 
 in tones of thunder when occasion required, adapt- 
 ing itself to sarcasm, and anon becoming sharp and 
 incisive. Monsieur Albert Savaron is of middle 
 height, neither stout nor thin. He has the hands of 
 a prelate. The second time I called upon him he 
 received me in his bedroom adjoining the library, 
 and smiled at my amazement when I saw there a 
 wretched commode, a villainous carpet, a cot-bed 
 and calico curtains at the windows. He came out 
 of his office, to which no one is ever admitted, so 
 Jerome told me, who never goes in himself, but 
 simply knocks at the door. Monsieur Savaron him- 
 self turned the key in the door before my eyes. 
 The third time he was breakfasting most frugally 
 3
 
 34 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 in his library; but that time, as he had passed the 
 night examining our documents, when our solicitor 
 was with me, as our interview was likely to be a 
 long one, and as dear Monsieur Girardet is long- 
 winded, I had an opportunity to make a study of 
 this stranger to Besancon. Certainly he is no 
 ordinary man. There are more secrets than one 
 hidden behind that mask, terrible at once and gen- 
 tle, patient and impatient, well-rounded and deeply 
 furrowed. I noticed that he was slightly bent like 
 all men who have a heavy burden to carry." 
 
 "Why did this eloquent man leave Paris? What 
 was his purpose in coming to Besancon? Did no- 
 body tell him how little chance strangers had of suc- 
 ceeding here ? They will make use of him, but the 
 Bisontins will never let him make use of them. As 
 long as he did come here, why has he spent so little 
 money, why did it require the first president's whim 
 to bring him into notice?" said lovely Madame de 
 Chavoncourt 
 
 "Having made a careful study of that handsome 
 head," replied Abbe de Grancey, with a shrewd 
 glance at his interrupter, giving the impression that 
 he was keeping something back, "and more espe- 
 cially after hearing him reply this morning to one 
 of the eagles of the Paris bar, it is my opinion that 
 this man, who is apparently about thirty-five years 
 old, will make a great sensation some day. " 
 
 "Why do we trouble our heads about him ? Your 
 suit is won and you have paid him," said Madame 
 de Watteville, with her eye on her daughter, who
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 35 
 
 had been, as it were, hanging on the vicar-general's 
 lips, all the time he was speaking. 
 
 The conversation thereupon took another direction 
 and nothing more was said about Albert Savaron. 
 
 The portrait drawn by the most enlightened of the 
 vicars-general of the diocese had so much the more 
 attraction of a romance for Rosalie since it had the 
 savor of romance about it. For the first time in her 
 life she found herself face to face with the extraor- 
 dinary, the marvelous, on which all youthful imagi- 
 nations love to dwell, and which curiosity, so 
 ardent at Rosalie's age, rushes forth to meet. What 
 an ideal creature was this Albert, dark-browed, 
 suffering, eloquent, hard-working, when contrasted 
 by Mademoiselle de Watteville with yonder vulgar, 
 fat-faced count, bursting with health, who talked 
 amorous nonsense, and prated of fashion in face of 
 the splendor of the ancient Comtes de Rupt! 
 Amedee was simply the occasion of quarrels and 
 reproaches, moreover, she knew him only too well, 
 whereas this Albert Savaron offered many enigmas 
 for solution. 
 
 "Albert Savaron de Savarus," she repeated to 
 herself. 
 
 Oh ! to see him, to catch a glimpse of him ! That 
 was the longing of a young heart that had hitherto 
 known no longing. She reviewed in her heart, in 
 her imagination, in her brain, the most trivial 
 words let fall by Abbe de Grancey, for every word 
 had struck home. 
 
 "A fine forehead," she said to herself, looking at
 
 $6 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 the forehead of every man seated at the table, "I 
 don't see a single fine one here Monsieur de 
 Soulas's bulges too much, Monsieur de Grancey's is 
 fine, but he's seventy years old and hasn't any hair, 
 so you can't tell where the forehead ends." 
 
 "What's the matter, Rosalie? you' re not eating." 
 
 "I'm not hungry, mamma," said she. "The 
 hands of a prelate," she continued, mentally, "I 
 don't remember our dear archbishop's hands, 
 although he confirmed me." 
 
 At last, as she was still wandering hither and 
 thither in the labyrinth of her reverie, she remem- 
 bered that, when she happened to wake during the 
 night, she had noticed from her bed a lighted win- 
 dow shining through the trees of the two adjoining 
 gardens. 
 
 "That must have been his light," she said to her- 
 self; "I may be able to see him! I will see him!" 
 
 "Monsieur de Grancey, is the suit against the 
 chapter entirely finished?" Rosalie suddenly 
 asked the vicar-general during a momentary lull in 
 the conversation. 
 
 Madame de Watteville exchanged a swift glance 
 with the vicar-general. 
 
 "Of what consequence is it to you, my dear 
 child?" she said to Rosalie, assuming a softness of 
 manner which put her daughter on her guard for the 
 rest of her days. 
 
 "They may take us up to the Court of Appeals; 
 but our opponents will think twice before they do 
 that," the abbe replied.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 37 
 
 "I wouldn't have believed that Rosalie could 
 think about a law-suit during a whole dinner," re- 
 joined Madame de Watteville. 
 
 "Nor would I," said Rosalie with a dreamy ex- 
 pression which called forth a laugh. "But Mon- 
 sieur de Grancey was so engrossed by it, that I got 
 interested in it too. It's very innocent!" 
 
 They left the table and returned to the salon. 
 Throughout the evening Rosalie listened for any- 
 thing more that might be said about Albert Savaron; 
 but, aside from the congratulations every new arri- 
 val offered the abbe upon the result of the suit, 
 which did not include any eulogiums upon the advo- 
 cate, he was not mentioned. Mademoiselle de 
 Watteville impatiently awaited the coming of night 
 She had promised herself to get up between two and 
 three o'clock in the morning and look at the win- 
 dows of Albert's study. When that hour arrived 
 she experienced something very like pleasure in gaz- 
 ing at the light cast by the advocate's candles 
 through the trees which were almost denuded of 
 their leaves. By means of the excellent eyesight 
 possessed by young girls, and which curiosity seems 
 to improve, she saw Albert writing and thought she 
 could distinguish the color of the furnishings, which 
 seemed to her to be red. A thick column of smoke 
 ascended from the chimney. 
 
 "When all the world is sleeping, he is awake 
 like God!" she said to herself.
 
 The education of girls involves such serious prob- 
 lems for the future of a nation depends upon its 
 mothers that the University of France long ago set 
 itself the task of paying no attention thereto. This 
 is one of the problems. Should young girls be 
 fully enlightened? should their intelligence be re- 
 stricted? It need not be said that the religious 
 system is one of restriction: if you enlighten their 
 minds you make devils of them prematurely; if 
 you prevent them from thinking you bring about 
 the sudden explosion so well depicted in Moliere's 
 character of Agnes, and you place the restricted 
 mind, so strange to everything, so perspicacious, 
 and as swift to think and draw conclusions as the 
 mind of a savage, at the mercy of an accident an 
 ominous crisis, brought about in Mademoiselle de 
 Watteville's case by the injudicious sketch which 
 one of the most judicious abbes of the judicious 
 chapter of Besancon permitted himself to draw at 
 the dinner-table. 
 
 The next morning Mademoiselle de Watteville,as 
 she was dressing, was irresistibly impelled to gaze 
 at Albert Savaron walking in the garden adjoining 
 that of the De Rupt mansion. 
 
 "What would have become of me," she said to 
 herself, "if he had lived elsewhere? 1 can see him. 
 What is he thinking about?" 
 
 (39)
 
 40 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 After she had seen, though at a distance, this ex- 
 traordinary man, the only one whose face stood 
 prominently forth from the mass of Bisontine faces 
 she had hitherto seen, Rosalie leaped quickly to the 
 thought of making her way into his apartments, of 
 finding out the motive of all this mystery, of hear- 
 ing that eloquent voice, of receiving a glance from 
 those beautiful eyes. She longed to do all that, 
 but how could she gratify her longing? 
 
 Throughout the whole day she drew her needle in 
 and out of her embroidery with that dogged atten- 
 tion of the maiden who seems, like Agnes, to be 
 thinking of nothing, but who is thinking so deeply 
 of everything that her wiles cannot fail to deceive. 
 The result of this deep meditation on Rosalie's part 
 was a longing to confess. The next morning, after 
 mass, she had a brief conference with Pere Giroud 
 at Notre-Dame, and cajoled him so completely that 
 he agreed to hear her confession on Sunday morning 
 at half-past seven, before the eight o'clock mass. 
 She told a dozen lies in order that she might be 
 able to be at the church, just once, at the hour when 
 the advocate attended mass. Finally she was 
 seized with a paroxysm of violent affection for her 
 father, went to see him in his workshop and asked 
 him innumerable questions about the wood-turner's 
 art, in order to make an opportunity to advise him 
 to turn large pieces columns, for instance. Hav- 
 ing started her father on the subject of twisted 
 columns, one of the stumbling-blocks in the turner's 
 profession, she advised him to take advantage of a
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 41 
 
 pile of stones lying in the middle of the garden to 
 have a grotto built, and in it he could place a little 
 temple after the style of a belvedere, in which his 
 twisted columns could be introduced and dazzle the 
 eyes of his whole circle of acquaintances. 
 
 In the midst of the delight which this suggestion 
 afforded the poor man, on whose hands time hung 
 so heavily, Rosalie kissed him and said: 
 
 "Above all things, don't tell mother where you 
 got this idea; she'd scold me well." 
 
 "Never fear," replied Monsieur de Watteville, 
 who groaned as bitterly as his daughter under the 
 oppression of the terrible daughter of the De Rupts. 
 
 Thus, Rosalie was certain that she should soon see 
 a charming observatory erected in the garden, from 
 which her eyes could pierce the seclusion of the ad- 
 vocate's office. And there are men for whom young 
 girls achieve such masterpieces of diplomacy, and 
 for the most part, like Albert Savaron, they know 
 nothing of it 
 
 The Sunday, so impatiently awaited, came at 
 last, and Rosalie's toilette was made with an atten- 
 tion which brought a smile to the lips of Mariette, 
 Madame and Mademoiselle de Watteville's maid. 
 
 "This is the first time I ever saw Mademoiselle 
 so particular !" said Mariette. 
 
 "You remind me," said Rosalie, darting a glance 
 at Mariette that brought the poppies to her cheeks, 
 "that there are days when you are more so than on 
 others. 
 
 As she left the doorsteps, crossed the courtyard,
 
 42 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 passed through the gate and walked along the street, 
 Rosalie's heart beat as violently as our hearts beat 
 when we have a presentiment of some momentous 
 event She did not know until that moment what 
 it was to walk through the streets : she had thought 
 that her mother would read her project in her face 
 and forbid her to go to confession ; she felt a fresh 
 current of blood flowing through her feet and lifted 
 them as if she were walking in fire! She had natu- 
 rally made the appointment with her confessor for 
 quarter-past eight, and had told her mother eight 
 o'clock, so that she might have a quarter of an 
 hour to wait beside Albert. She reached the church 
 before mass was said, and after repeating a short 
 prayer, she went to see if Abbe Giroud was in his 
 confessional, simply as an excuse for sauntering 
 through the church. In this way she took up a 
 position from which she could see Albert the 
 moment he entered. 
 
 A man must be atrociously ugly in order not to 
 appear handsome to a young woman in the frame of 
 mind to which Mademoiselle de Watteville's curi- 
 osity had brought her. Now Albert Savaron, who 
 was a man certain to attract attention under any 
 circumstances, made all the deeper impression upon 
 Rosalie because his bearing, his gait, his attitude, 
 everything about him, even to his clothing, had 
 that indefinable something which can only be ex- 
 pressed by the word mysterious! He entered. The 
 church, until that moment gloomy, seemed to Rosa- 
 lie brilliantly lighted. The girl was fascinated by
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 43 
 
 his slow, almost solemn step, as of a man who 
 carries a world on his shoulders, and whose pene- 
 trating glance, whose movements, agree in giving 
 expression to a thought of destruction or of domina- 
 tion. Rosalie at that moment fully understood the 
 meaning of the vicar-general's words: yes, those 
 yellowish-brown eyes, diversified with threads of 
 gold, veiled an ardent temperament that betrayed 
 itself by sudden flashes. Rosalie, with an impru- 
 dence which did not pass unnoticed by Mariette, 
 placed herself in the advocate's path in such a way 
 as to exchange a glance with him; and that glance, 
 sought by her, changed the current of her blood, 
 which foamed and boiled as if its heat were in- 
 creased twofold. As soon as Albert was seated, 
 Mademoiselle de Watteville selected her own posi- 
 tion so that she had an unobstructed view of him 
 during all the time Abbe Giroud allowed her. 
 When Mariette said : "There's Monsieur Giroud," 
 it seemed to Rosalie as if it had been but a few 
 moments. When she came out of the confessional, 
 the mass was at an end and Albert had left the 
 church. 
 
 "The vicar-general was right," she thought; "he 
 is suffering! Why did that eagle for he has an 
 eagle's eyes swoop down upon Besancon? Oh! 
 I must find out everything And how?" 
 
 Under the impulsion of this new desire, Rosalie 
 drew the threads of her embroidery with admirable 
 precision, and veiled her meditations behind a de- 
 mure air, feigning simplicity so successfully that
 
 44 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Madame de Watteville was deceived. After the 
 Sunday on which Mademoiselle de Watteville re- 
 ceived that glance, or if you prefer, that baptism of 
 fife a magnificent expression of Napoleon's which 
 love may make use of she pushed on the affair of 
 the belvedere with great earnestness. 
 
 "Mamma," said she, when there were two col- 
 umns all turned, "father has taken a strange notion 
 into his head; he is turning columns for a belvedere 
 he proposes to build, making use of that pile of 
 stones in the middle of the garden; do you approve 
 of it? For my part, it seems to me that " 
 
 "I approve of whatever your father does," re- 
 plied Madame de Watteville dryly, "and it's a 
 wife's duty to submit to her husband, even if she 
 doesn't approve of his ideas. Why should I oppose 
 a thing of no consequence in itself, as soon as I find 
 that it amuses Monsieur de Watteville?" 
 
 "But, from there we can look into Monsieur de 
 Soulas's house, and Monsieur de Soul as can see us 
 when we're there. Perhaps people would talk " 
 
 "Do you undertake to guide your parents, Rosalie, 
 and to know more than they about life and about 
 what is or is not proper?" 
 
 "I have no more to say, mamma. However, 
 father says that the grotto will be a room where we 
 can go and take our coffee in the open air." 
 
 "It's an excellent idea of your father's," replied 
 Madame de Watteville, and she determined to go 
 and see the columns. 
 
 She bestowed her approbation upon Baron de
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 45 
 
 Watteville's project, selecting for the location of the 
 structure a point at the end of the garden, where 
 there was no opportunity to look into Monsieur de 
 Soulas's quarters, but where they had an admirable 
 view of the domicile of Monsieur Albert Savaron. 
 A contractor was called in, who undertook to con- 
 struct a grotto with a little path three feet wide 
 leading to the summit; in the crevices between the 
 stones periwinkles would grow, and the iris, vibur- 
 num, ivy, honeysuckle and creeper. The baroness 
 conceived the idea of covering the interior walls of 
 the grotto with rustic woodwork then much in vogue 
 for jardinieres, of placing a mirror at one end with 
 a covered divan and a marquetry table composed of 
 bark. Monsieur de Soulas suggested covering the 
 floor with asphalt. Rosalie proposed a chandelier 
 in rustic woodwork suspended from the roof. 
 
 "The Wattevilles are putting up a fascinating 
 little thing in their garden," people said in Be- 
 sancon. 
 
 "They are rich, they can afford to spend a thou- 
 sand crowns for a whim." 
 
 "A thousand crowns?" said Madame de Cha- 
 voncourt. 
 
 "Yes, a thousand crowns," cried young Monsieur 
 de Soulas. "They have sent for a man from Paris 
 to do the interior rustic work, and it will be very 
 pretty. Monsieur de Watteville makes the chan- 
 delier, and he's beginning to carve the wood " 
 
 "They say Berquet's going to dig a cellar," said 
 an abbe.
 
 46 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "No," replied Monsieur de Soulas, "he is to set 
 the kiosk on a foundation of solid masonry, so that 
 there may be no dampness." 
 
 "You know every little thing that goes on in that 
 house," said Madame de Chavoncourt sourly, 
 glancing at her three tall daughters, all of marriage- 
 able age for a year past. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Watteville, who had some slight 
 feeling of pride as she thought of the success of her 
 belvedere, reached the conclusion that she was emi- 
 nently superior to all those about her. No one 
 imagined that a slip of a girl, supposed to have no 
 mind of her own and to be almost an idiot, had 
 simply determined to see the advocate Savaron's 
 office at shorter range.
 
 Albert Savaron's brilliant argument in behalf of 
 the Cathedral Chapter was the more speedily for- 
 gotten in that the jealousy of the other advocates 
 was aroused. Moreover, Savaron was faithful to 
 his purpose of living in retirement and was seen 
 nowhere. As he had no trumpeters and saw no one, 
 he increased his chance of being forgotten, a chance 
 which is sufficiently great for any stranger, in a city 
 like Besancon. Nevertheless, he pleaded three 
 times before the Tribunal of Commerce in three 
 complicated cases which were destined to go up to 
 the royal court His clients were four substantial 
 merchants of the city, who discovered in him such a 
 fund of common sense and of what is called in the 
 provinces judicial instinct, that they entrusted their 
 affairs in litigation to him. On the day when the 
 Watteville family dedicated their belvedere, Savaron 
 likewise reared his monument Thanks to his 
 secret relations with the leading commercial houses 
 of Besancon, he founded a fortnightly review called 
 the Revue de I'Est, with a capital of forty shares of 
 five hundred francs each, placed in the hands of his 
 first ten clients, upon whom he urged the necessity 
 of assisting to guide the destinies of Besancon, the 
 city which should be the trading centre between 
 Mulhausen and Lyons, the most important point be- 
 tween the Rhine and the Rhone. 
 
 (47)
 
 48 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 To enter into rivalry with Strasburg, should not 
 Besancon be a centre of enlightenment as well as a 
 commercial centre? Nowhere else than in a review 
 could the momentous questions bearing upon the 
 interests of the East be properly dealt with. What 
 a glorious thing it would be to wrest from Strasburg 
 and Dijon their literary influence, to spread en- 
 lightenment through the East of France and contend 
 against Parisian centralization ! These arguments, 
 supplied by Albert, were echoed by the ten mer- 
 chants, who gave themselves credit for them. 
 
 Savaron the advocate did not make the mistake of 
 putting his own name forward ; he left the financial 
 management in the hands of his first client, Mon- 
 sieur Boucher, who was connected by marriage 
 with one of the leading publishers of important ec- 
 clesiastical works; but he reserved the editorship 
 for himself, with a share in the profits as one of the 
 founders. The business interests issued an appeal 
 at D61e, Dijon, Salins, NeufchStel, the Jura, Bourg, 
 Nantua, Lons-le-Saunier. They demanded the co- 
 operation of the knowledge and efforts of all thought- 
 ful men in the three provinces of Bugey, Besse and 
 Franche-Comte. Thanks to the business connec- 
 tions and social relations of the founders, a hundred 
 and fifty subscriptions were taken, some credit 
 being due to the low subscription price: the Revue 
 cost eight francs per quarter. To avoid wounding 
 the provincial self-esteem by declining contributed 
 articles, the advocate was clever enough to awaken 
 an ambition to undertake the literary editorship of
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 49 
 
 the Revue in the breast of Monsieur Boucher's eldest 
 son, a young man of twenty-two, thirsty for renown, 
 to whom the pitfalls and vexations of literary man- 
 agement were entirely unknown. Albert secretly 
 retained control and made of Alfred Boucher his 
 fanatical adherent Alfred was the only person in 
 Besancon with whom the king of the bar fraternized. 
 Alfred came in the morning to confer with Albert in 
 the garden concerning the details of the next num- 
 ber. It is needless to say that the initial number 
 contained a Meditation by Alfred, which received 
 Savaron's approval. In his conversation with 
 Alfred, Albert let fall grand ideas, subjects for arti- 
 cles of which young Boucher was not slow to avail 
 himself. So the merchant's son believed that he 
 was making use of the great man ! In Alfred's eyes, 
 Albert was a man of genius, a profound politician. 
 The merchants were delighted with the success of 
 the Revue, for they had to pay up only three-tenths 
 of the value of their shares. Two hundred sub- 
 scribers more and the Revue would pay a dividend 
 of five per cent to its shareholders ; the editing not 
 being paid for. Indeed the editing was beyond 
 price. When the third number was issued the 
 Revue had made arrangements for exchanging with 
 all the newspapers in France, which Albert read at 
 home. This third number contained a novel signed 
 A. S., and attributed to the famous advocate. 
 Although the first society of Besancon condescended 
 to take but little notice of the Revue, which was 
 accused of liberalism, this first novel that had ever 
 4
 
 50 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 blossomed in the Comte was the subject of discussion 
 at Madame de Chavoncourt's in the middle of the 
 winter. 
 
 "Father," said Rosalie, "there's a review pub- 
 lished here in Besancon ; you must subscribe for it 
 and keep it in your own rooms, for mamma wouldn't 
 let me read it; but you will lend it to me." 
 
 Eager to obey his dear Rosalie, who had been 
 lavish of proofs of her affection for him for five 
 months past, Monsieur de Watteville went himself 
 to subscribe to the Revue de I'Est for a year, and 
 loaned his daughter the four numbers that had ap- 
 peared. During the night Rosalie was at liberty to 
 devour the novel, the first she had ever read in her 
 life; but she had not known what it was to live 
 until the last two months ! We must not therefore 
 judge the effect this work was likely to produce 
 upon her, by ordinary rules. Entirely aside from 
 the question of the greater or less merit of this com- 
 position, the work of a Parisian who brought with 
 him into the province the manner, the brilliancy, if 
 you choose, of the new literary school, it could not 
 fail to be a masterpiece in the eyes of a young 
 woman devoting her virgin intelligence, her pure 
 heart, to a work of this sort for the first time. More- 
 over, from what she had heard of the book Rosalie 
 had, by intuition, formed an idea of her own regard- 
 ing it, which increased its value to a remarkable 
 degree. She hoped to find therein the sentiments 
 and perhaps something of the life of Albert. From 
 the very first page this idea became so firmly fixed
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 51 
 
 in her mind, that when she had read the fragment 
 through, she felt sure that she was not mistaken. 
 We insert here this confidential production, wherein, 
 according to the critics of the Chavoncourt salon, 
 Albert copied some modern writers, who through 
 lack of the inventive faculty, describe their own 
 joys, their own sorrows or the mysterious occurrences 
 of their own lives: 
 
 AMBITIONS THROUGH LOVE. 
 
 In 1823, two young men, who had agreed to take 
 a ramble through Switzerland in company, set out 
 from Lucerne one fine morning in July, in a boat 
 propelled by three rowers, and started for Fluelen, 
 proposing to stop at all the famous places on the 
 Lake of Lucerne. The landscapes which border the 
 lake from Lucerne to Fluelen present all the com- 
 binations the most exacting imagination can demand 
 of mountains and rivers, lakes and cliffs, streams 
 and verdure, trees and mountain torrents. There 
 is a succession of frowning solitudes and graceful 
 headlands, fresh and smiling valleys, forests perched 
 like plumes on the summit of perpendicular cliffs, 
 cool, solitary bays that open before one, valleys 
 whose treasures are embellished by the uncertain 
 distance. 
 
 As they passed the charming little village of Ger- 
 sau, one of the two friends gazed long at a wooden 
 house, apparently of recent construction, surrounded 
 by a fence, situated on a headland and almost
 
 52 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 bathed by the water beneath. As the boat passed, 
 a woman's head appeared in a room on the upper 
 floor of the house, to enjoy the effect of the boat 
 upon the water. One of the young men received 
 the glance directed at him with utter indifference 
 by the unknown. 
 
 "Let us stop here," he said to his friend; "we 
 intended to make Lucerne our headquarters while 
 we are in Switzerland, but you won't take it amiss, 
 Leopold, if I change my opinion and stay here to 
 look after the cloaks. You can do whatever you 
 please; for my part, my journey's at an end. Pull 
 ashore, boys, and set us down at this village; we're 
 going to have luncheon here. I'll go and send a 
 messenger to Lucerne for all our luggage, and you 
 shall know before you go what house I shall take 
 up my quarters in, so that you can find me when 
 you return." 
 
 "Between this and Lucerne," said Leopold, 
 "there's not enough difference for me to interfere 
 with your gratifying a whim." 
 
 These two young men were friends in the truest 
 acceptation of the word. They were of the same 
 age, they had pursued their studies at the same col- 
 lege ; and, having finished their legal studies, they 
 were passing their vacation in the classic tour 
 through Switzerland. As the result of a desire on 
 his father's part, Leopold was already engaged to 
 enter the office of a notary in Paris. His sense of 
 rectitude, his gentle disposition, the inexcitability 
 of his emotions and his intelligence guaranteed his
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 53 
 
 docility. Leopold looked forward to being a notary 
 of Paris: his life lay before him like one of the 
 broad roads which traverse a level tract of France; 
 he surveyed it in all its extent with philosophical 
 resignation. 
 
 The character of his companion, whom we will 
 call Rodolphe, presented a striking contrast to his, 
 and the result of this antagonism had doubtless been 
 to draw still tighter the bond that united them. 
 Rodolphe was the natural son of a great nobleman, 
 who died suddenly and prematurely before he had 
 an opportunity to provide the means of subsistence 
 for a woman whom he loved dearly and for Rodolphe. 
 Thus betrayed by a caprice of fate, Rodolphe's 
 mother had recourse to an heroic expedient. She 
 sold everything that she owed to the generosity of 
 her child's father, got together something over a 
 hundred thousand francs, purchased with it an an- 
 nuity for her own life at a high rate of interest, and 
 in this way procured an income of about fifteen 
 thousand francs, resolving to sacrifice everything to 
 her son's education in order to provide him with the 
 personal advantages best adapted to assist him in 
 making his fortune, and by strict economy to lay by 
 a little capital for him when he attained his majority. 
 It was a bold step, it was making everything depend 
 upon her own life; but, if she had been less bold, it 
 would have been impossible without doubt for the 
 good mother to live, and to provide a proper educa- 
 tion for her child, her only hope, her future and her 
 only source of happiness. Born of one of the most
 
 54 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 fascinating of Parisian women, and of a noteworthy 
 figure in the aristocracy of Brabant, the fruit of an 
 ardent, mutual passion, Rodolphe was afflicted with 
 extreme sensitiveness. From his infancy he had 
 exhibited the greatest ardor in everything. 
 
 In him, desire became an overpowering force, the 
 motive power of his whole being, a stimulant to his 
 imagination, the basis of all his acts. Despite the 
 efforts of an intelligent mother, who took alarm the 
 moment she observed this predisposition, Rodolphe 
 desired this or that as a poet exercises his imagin- 
 ation, as a scholar reasons, as a painter draws, as a 
 musician sketches the outline of a melody. As 
 affectionate as his mother, in his thoughts he darted 
 in pursuit of the desired object with incredible ve- 
 hemence; he annihilated time. When dreaming of 
 the accomplishment of his projects he always sup- 
 pressed the means of execution. 
 
 "If my son has children," his mother would say, 
 "he will want them to be grown-up instantly." 
 
 This praiseworthy ardor, properly guided, assisted 
 Rodolphe to go through his college course with great 
 brilliancy, and to become what the English call a 
 perfect gentleman. His mother was very proud of 
 him, therefore, although she was in constant dread 
 of some catastrophe if ever passion should take pos- 
 session of that heart, at once so tender and so sensi- 
 tive, so kind and so violent For that reason the 
 prudent creature had encouraged the friendship that 
 bound Leopold to Rodolphe and Rodolphe to Leopold, 
 looking upon the unemotional and conscientious
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 55 
 
 notary as a mentor, a confidant, who could, to a cer- 
 tain extent, fill her place with Rodolphe, if she 
 should, by any evil chance, be taken from him. 
 Still lovely at forty-three, Rodolphe's mother had 
 inspired the warmest passion in Leopold's heart 
 This fact served to make the two young men even 
 more intimate. 
 
 Leopold, who knew Rodolphe well, was not sur- 
 prised to find him stopping short at a village and 
 abandoning the projected excursion to the Saint- 
 Gothard, all on account of a glance shot at him 
 from a housetop. While their lunch was being 
 made ready at the hostelry of Le Cygne, the two 
 friends made a circuit of the village, and came 
 finally to the neighborhood of the fascinating newly- 
 built house, and there Rodolphe, by dint of saunter- 
 ing about and talking with the natives, discovered a 
 house belonging to a small storekeeper, who was 
 inclined to take him in as a boarder, in accordance 
 with the prevailing custom in Switzerland. They 
 offered him a room looking on the lake and the 
 mountains, which commanded a magnificent view of 
 one of the marvelous panoramas that commend the 
 Lake of the Forest Cantons to the admiration of 
 tourists. This house was separated by a street and 
 a small gate from the new house where Rodolphe 
 had caught a glimpse of his fair unknown's face. 
 
 For a hundred francs a month, Rodolphe was re- 
 lieved of the necessity of providing the necessaries 
 of life. But, in consideration of the expense that 
 the Stopfers expected to incur, they demanded
 
 56 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 payment for the third month in advance. Scratch 
 a Swiss ever so little and you find a usurer. After 
 lunch Rodolphe immediately took possession by 
 depositing in his room all that he had brought in the 
 way of luggage for his excursion to the Saint-Go- 
 thard, and watched the departure of Leopold, who, 
 impelled by his orderly instinct, proposed to go 
 through with the excursion on Rodolphe's behalf as 
 well as his own. When Rodolphe, sitting on a rock 
 that had fallen by the water's edge, could no longer 
 see Leopold's boat, he scrutinized the new house 
 out of the corner of his eye, hoping to catch a 
 glimpse of the unknown. Alas! he returned to his 
 room without having detected a sign of life about 
 the house. While he was discussing the dinner 
 provided by Monsieur and Madame Stopfer, for- 
 merly coopers at Neufchatel, he questioned them 
 about the neighborhood, and succeeded in learning 
 all that he desired to know concerning the unknown, 
 thanks to the garrulity of his hosts, who emptied 
 their bag of gossip without waiting to be urged. 
 
 The name of the unknown was Fanny Lovelace. 
 This name, which is pronounced Loveless, is borne 
 by various old English families, but Richardson has 
 created a character by that name, whose celebrity 
 casts all others into the shade. Miss Lovelace had 
 taken up her abode on the lake for the benefit of her 
 father's health, the doctors having prescribed the 
 air of the canton of Lucerne for him. The father 
 and daughter, who had no servant save a little girl 
 of fourteen, a dumb child who was deeply attached
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 57 
 
 to Miss Fanny and served her intelligently, had 
 made their arrangements the preceding winter with 
 Monsieur and Madame Bergmann, formerly head gar- 
 deners to his Excellency Count Borromeo at Isold 
 Bella and Isola Madre on Lago Maggiore. These 
 Swiss, who had an income of about a thousand 
 crowns, let the upper floor of their house to the 
 Lovelaces for two hundred francs a year for three 
 years. Old Lovelace, a decrepit nonagenarian, too 
 poor to indulge in any considerable expense, rarely 
 left the house; his daughter supported them by 
 translating English books, it was said, and by writ- 
 ing books herself. So it was that the Lovelaces did 
 not dare to hire boats to row on the lake, or horses 
 or guides to visit the points of interest in the neigh- 
 borhood. Poverty that demands such sacrifices ex- 
 cites the more compassion among the Swiss in that 
 they lose thereby an opportunity for profit. The 
 cook of the household supplied the three English 
 with food for a hundred francs a month, everything 
 included. But all Gersau believed that the quon- 
 dam gardeners, notwithstanding their pretensions to 
 bourgeois rank, shielded themselves behind the 
 cook's name in order to realize the profits of this 
 bargain. The Bergmanns had laid out beautiful 
 gardens and built a magnificent greenhouse about 
 their abode. The flowers and fruits and botanical 
 rareties to be found there had guided the young 
 lady in her choice of a boarding-place when they 
 passed through Gersau. Miss Fanny was nineteen 
 years old, they said, and, being the old man's last
 
 58 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 remaining child, was worshiped by him. Not more 
 than two months before, she had succeeded in hiring 
 a piano at Lucerne, for she seemed music-mad. 
 
 "She loves flowers and music," Rodolphe thought, 
 "and she is unmarried. What good fortune!" 
 
 The next day Rodolphe sent to ask permission to 
 visit the greenhouses and gardens, which were be- 
 ginning to enjoy some celebrity. This permission 
 was not at once granted. The quondam gardeners 
 requested, strangely enough, to see Rodolphe's pass- 
 port, and he sent it instantly. The passport was 
 not returned to him until the following day, when 
 the cook brought it to him and informed him how 
 delighted her masters would be to show him their 
 establishment. Rodolphe did not go to the Berg- 
 mann's house without a certain internal commotion 
 which only people of keen emotions know, who dis- 
 play as much passion in a single moment as some 
 men expend in their whole lives. Dressed with care, 
 in order to make a pleasant impression upon the 
 former gardeners of the Borromean Islands, for in 
 them he saw only the guardians of his treasure, he 
 made the circuit of the gardens, glancing at the 
 house from time to time, but with great circumspec- 
 tion; the two venerable proprietors were clearly 
 suspicious of him. But his attention was soon at- 
 tracted by the little dumb English girl, whose 
 sagacity, although she was still so young, convinced 
 him that she was a child of Africa, or at least a 
 Sicilian. The girl had the golden color of an 
 Havana cigar, flashing eyes with pupils of turquoise
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 59 
 
 blue, and oriental lashes of un-British length, hair 
 blacker than jet, and beneath the olive skin, nerves 
 of extraordinary strength and feverish vivacity. 
 She gazed searchingly at Rodolphe with incredible 
 impudence, and followed his slightest movements. 
 
 "To whom does yonder little Moor belong?" he 
 inquired of worthy Madame Bergmann. 
 
 "To the English people," Monsieur Bergmann 
 replied. 
 
 "But she wasn't born in England!" 
 
 "Perhaps they brought her from the Indies," sug- 
 gested Madame Bergmann. 
 
 "I was told that young Miss Lovelace is fond of 
 music; I should be delighted if she would permit me 
 to sing with her during my stay on the lake, having 
 been ordered hither by my doctor." 
 
 "They don't receive visitors and don't care to see 
 anyone," said the old gardener. 
 
 Rodolphe bit his lips and went away, without 
 having received an invitation to enter the house, 
 and without being shown that part of the garden that 
 lay between the house front and the edge of the 
 headland. On that side there was a wooden bal- 
 cony above the first floor, covered by the roof which 
 projected an extraordinary distance like the roof of 
 a chalet, and which extended around the four sides 
 of the building after the Swiss fashion. Rodolphe 
 praised this excellent arrangement and talked loudly 
 of the view from the balcony, but to no purpose. 
 When he had taken his leave of the Bergmanns he 
 reviled himself as a blockhead, as every man of
 
 60 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 sense and imagination does when disappointed by 
 the failure of a project which he had believed would 
 be successful. 
 
 In the evening he naturally went rowing on the 
 lake around the headland ; he went as far as Briin- 
 nen and Schwitz and returned at nightfall. From a 
 distance he saw that the window was open and the 
 room brilliantly lighted, and he could hear the sound 
 of the piano and the sweet tones of a lovely voice. 
 He ordered his rowers to stop that he might abandon 
 himself to the bliss of listening to an Italian air, 
 divinely sung. When the song was at an end, 
 Rodolphe landed and sent away the boat and the two 
 boatmen. At the risk of wetting his feet he sat 
 down under the wall of granite worn away by the 
 action of the water, on the crown of which was a 
 thick hedge of prickly acacias, while an avenue of 
 young lindens ran along its whole length in the 
 Bergmann garden. After about an hour he heard 
 footsteps and voices over his head ; but the words 
 that reached his ear were Italian words and uttered 
 by two women's voices two young women. He 
 seized the opportunity when they were at one end 
 to glide along to the other. After struggling for half 
 an hour he reached the end of the avenue, and was 
 able, without being seen or heard, to take up a posi- 
 tion from which he could see the two women with- 
 out being seen by them even if they should come 
 close up to him. What was Rodolphe's amazement 
 when he recognized in one of the two women the little 
 mute! she was talking Italian with Miss Lovelace.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 6 I 
 
 It was eleven o'clock at night Everything was 
 so quiet on the lake and about the house that 
 they might well believe themselves safe from in- 
 trusion ; in all Gersau there could be no other whose 
 eyes were still open. Rodolphe concluded that the 
 little one's dumbness was a necessary stratagem. 
 By the way in which both of them spoke Italian he 
 knew that it must be their mother tongue ; he con- 
 cluded therefore that their masquerading as English 
 also concealed some ruse. 
 
 "They're Italian refugees," he said to himself, 
 "exiles, no doubt, who have reason to fear the 
 police of Austria or Sardinia. The young woman 
 waits until nightfall when she can walk about and 
 talk in perfect safety." 
 
 He immediately lay down at the foot of the hedge 
 and crawled along like a snake to find a passage be- 
 tween two acacia roots. At the risk of leaving his 
 coat behind him or of inflicting serious wounds on 
 his back, he passed through the hedge when the 
 pretended Miss Fanny and the pseudo-mute were at 
 the other end of the avenue; when they had re- 
 turned to within twenty paces of where he was 
 without seeing him, for he was crouching in the 
 shadow of the hedge upon which the moon shone 
 brightly, he suddenly rose. 
 
 "Don't be alarmed," he said in French to the 
 Italian girl, "I am not a spy, you are refugees, I 
 have guessed your secret. I am a Frenchman 
 whom a single glance from your eyes has nailed to 
 the soil of Gersau."
 
 62 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 At that moment Rodolphe measured his length 
 upon the ground, overcome by the pain caused by 
 a sharp instrument piercing his side. 
 
 "Nellagoconpietra!" exclaimed the terrible mute. 
 
 "Oh! Gina," cried the Italian. 
 
 "She missed me," said Rodolphe, drawing from 
 the wound a stiletto which had glanced off one of 
 the short ribs; "but if it had been a little higher it 
 would have gone straight to my heart. I was 
 wrong, Francesca," he added, remembering the 
 name by which little Gina had called her several 
 times; "I bear her no ill-will for it, don't scold her; 
 the happiness of speaking to you is well worth a 
 blow from a stiletto ! But show me the way out, for 
 I must get back to Stopfer's house. Have no fear, 
 I will -be silent" 
 
 Francesca, having recovered from her astonish- 
 ment, assisted Rodolphe to rise, and said a few 
 words to Gina, whose eyes filled with tears. The 
 two women forced Rodolphe to sit down on a bench 
 and to remove his coat, waistcoat and cravat Gina 
 opened his shirt and sucked the wound vigorously. 
 Francesca, who had left them for a moment, re- 
 turned with a large piece of English taffeta and 
 placed it over the wound. 
 
 "You can go as far as your house so," she said. 
 
 Each of them took one of Rodolphe's arms, and 
 led him to a small gate, the key of which was in the 
 pocket of Francesca's apron. 
 
 "Does Gina speak French?" Rodolphe asked 
 Francesca.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 63 
 
 "No. But don't you excite yourself," she re- 
 plied with a touch of impatience. 
 
 "Let me look at you," said Rodolphe with emo- 
 tion, "for it may be a long time before I shall be 
 able to come " 
 
 He leaned against one of the posts of the little 
 gate and gazed at the fair Italian, who submitted to 
 his scrutiny for an instant amid the sweetest silence 
 and in the loveliest moonlight that ever shone upon 
 that lake, the king of all Swiss lakes. Francesca 
 was of the classic Italian type and beautiful as the 
 imagination would have all Italian women, or pic- 
 tures them or dreams of them, if you choose. The 
 thing that impressed Rodolphe at first glance was 
 the refined and graceful outline of her figure, which 
 revealed its strength despite her frail appearance, 
 she was so lithe and supple. The amber pallor of 
 her cheeks betrayed her suddenly awakened inter- 
 est, but did not veil the voluptuous glance of two 
 moist, velvety-black eyes. Two hands, the love- 
 liest that Greek sculptor ever attached to the 
 polished arms of a statue, held Rodolphe's arm, and 
 their whiteness was in striking contrast to the black 
 sleeve of his coat The imprudent Frenchman could 
 see but vaguely the somewhat long, oval-shaped 
 face, and the mouth sad and slightly parted which 
 disclosed teeth of dazzling whiteness between two 
 fresh, ruby lips. The beauty of the lines of her face 
 assured Francesca of the lasting quality of her mag- 
 nificent loveliness; but the thing that most im- 
 pressed Rodolphe was the adorable ease of manner,
 
 64 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 the Italian frankness of this woman, who abandoned 
 herself unreservedly to her compassion. 
 
 Francesca said a word to Gina, who gave Rodolphe 
 her arm to lean upon as far as the Stopfer house, and 
 ran away like a swallow when she had rung the bell. 
 
 "These patriots don't go empty-handed!" said 
 Rodolphe to himself, keenly alive to his suffering 
 when he was alone in his bed. " Nel lago ! Gina 
 would have tossed me into the lake with a stone 
 around my neck." 
 
 At daybreak he sent to Lucerne for the most skil- 
 ful surgeon there; and when he arrived Rodolphe 
 enjoined profound secrecy upon him, giving him to 
 understand that honor demanded it. Leopold re- 
 turned from his excursion on the day that his friend 
 left his bed. Rodolphe told him a fairy story and 
 sent him to Lucerne to bring the luggage and their 
 letters. Leopold brought back the saddest, most 
 horrible news ; Rodolphe's mother was dead. While 
 the two friends were on the way from Bale to Lu- 
 cerne, the fatal letter, written by Leopold's father, 
 was despatched, and arrived at Lucerne the day of 
 their departure for Fluelen. Notwithstanding the 
 precautions taken by Leopold, Rodolphe was 
 stricken down with a nervous fever. As soon as 
 the future notary was sure that his friend was out 
 of danger, he started for France, armed with a power 
 of attorney. Thus Rodolphe was enabled to remain 
 at Gersau, the only spot on earth where his grief 
 could be allayed. The plight of the young French- 
 man, his despair, and the circumstances that made
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 6$ 
 
 his loss more insupportable to him than to another, 
 were known in the village, and attracted the com- 
 passion and interest of all Gersau. Every morning 
 the pretended mute came to see the Frenchman in 
 order to carry her mistress the latest news of his 
 condition. 
 
 When Rodolphe was able to go out, he went to 
 the Bergmanns to thank Miss Fanny Lovelace and 
 her father for the interest they had manifested in 
 him. For the first time since he had taken up his 
 abode under Bergmann's roof, the old Italian allowed 
 a stranger to enter his apartments, where Rodolphe 
 was received with a cordiality attributable both to 
 his misfortunes and to the fact that he was a 
 Frenchman, which made suspicion impossible. 
 Francesca was so beautiful by candle-light that first 
 evening, that she caused a ray of light to shine in 
 upon that dejected heart Her smile strewed the 
 roses of hope upon his mourning garb. She sang, 
 not lively airs, but sublime and lofty melodies ap- 
 propriate to the state of Rodolphe's heart, and he 
 did not fail to notice this touching attention. About 
 eight o'clock the old man left the two young people 
 alone without any apparent apprehension and went 
 to his room. When Francesca was tired of singing, 
 she took Rodolphe out upon the exterior balcony, 
 where the sublime spectacle of the lake was spread 
 out before them, and motioned to him to sit down 
 beside her on a rustic wooden bench. 
 
 "Is it impertinent in me to ask your age, cara 
 Francesca?" said Rodolphe. 
 
 5
 
 66 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "Nineteen," she replied, "and a little more." 
 
 "If anything in the world could lighten my grief," 
 he continued, "it would be the hope of obtaining 
 your hand from your father ; however you may be 
 situated as to fortune, you are so lovely that in my 
 eyes you appear richer than a prince's daughter. I 
 tremble when 1 avow the feelings you have awakened 
 in me, but they are deeply rooted, they are ever- 
 lasting." 
 
 "Zitto!" said Francesca, placing one of the fingers 
 of her right hand on his lips. "Say no more; I 
 am not free, 1 have been married three years " 
 
 Profound silence reigned between them for a 
 few moments. When the Italian, alarmed by 
 Rodolphe's position, drew near to him, she found 
 him quite unconscious. 
 
 "Povero!" she said to herself ; "and I thought him 
 cold" 
 
 She ran to fetch salts and revived Rodolphe by 
 making him inhale them. "Married!" he ex- 
 claimed, gazing at Francesca. 
 
 Thereupon his tears flowed freely. 
 
 "Child," she said, "there is hope. My husband 
 is" 
 
 "Eighty?" said Rodolphe. 
 
 "No," she replied with a smile, "sixty-five. He 
 assumed an old man's mask to throw the police off 
 the scent." 
 
 "My dear," said Rodolphe, "a little more emo- 
 tion of this sort and I should die. Not until you 
 have known me twenty years, will you know the
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 67 
 
 strength and power of my heart, and the nature of 
 its aspirations to happiness. Yonder plant does not 
 climb more eagerly to blossom in the sun's rays," 
 he added, pointing to a Virginia jasmine clinging 
 to the balcony rail, "than I have attached myself to 
 you during the month just past I love you with a 
 love that has no parallel. That love will be the 
 secret principle of life to me, and perhaps I shall die 
 of it" 
 
 "Oh! you Frenchmen! you Frenchmen!" she 
 exclaimed, accentuating her exclamation with a 
 little pout of incredulity. 
 
 "Must I not wait for you and receive you from 
 the hands of time?" he resumed gravely. "But, 
 understand, that if you are sincere in the words that 
 just fell from your lips I will wait faithfully for you 
 and allow no other sentiment to take root in my 
 heart" 
 
 She glanced slily at him. 
 
 "Not one," he continued, "not even a caprice. I 
 have my fortune to make, and you must have a 
 magnificent fortune, for nature created you a prin- 
 cess " 
 
 At that word, Francesca could not restrain a feeble 
 smile which imparted a most enchanting expression 
 to her face, a touch of delicate raillery like that 
 which the great Leonardo introduced so happily in 
 his Gioconda. That smile made Rodolphe pause. 
 
 "Yes," he resumed, "you must suffer in the 
 state of destitution to which exile has reduced you. 
 Ah ! if you choose to make me the happiest of men
 
 68 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 and sanctify my love, you will treat me as a friend. 
 May I not be your friend too ? My poor mother left 
 me sixty thousand francs that she had saved take 
 half of it!" 
 
 Francesca gazed earnestly into his face. Her 
 penetrating gaze went to the very bottom of 
 Rodolphe's heart. 
 
 "We need nothing, my work suffices for our lux- 
 urious mode of life," she replied gravely. 
 
 "Can I allow a Francesca to work?" he cried. 
 "Some day you will return to your own country, and 
 you will find there all that you left behind you " 
 Again the young Italian looked at Rodolphe. "And 
 you can then return what you have deigned to bor- 
 row from me," he added, looking up into her face 
 with the utmost del icacy. 
 
 "Let us drop this subject of conversation," said 
 she, with incomparable nobility of gesture, of ex- 
 pression and of attitude. "Make a brilliant name 
 for yourself, be one of the eminent men of your 
 country ; it is my wish. Celebrity is a sort of fly- 
 ing-bridge that may help one across a chasm. Be 
 ambitious; you must. I believe that you possess 
 eminent and powerful talents ; but use them for the 
 welfare of mankind rather than to earn my love; 
 you will be the greater in my eyes." 
 
 In this conversation, which lasted two hours, 
 Rodolphe discovered in Francesca the enthusiasm 
 born of liberal ideas, and that devotion to liberty 
 which had caused the triple revolution of Naples, 
 Piedmont and Spain. When he left the house he
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 69 
 
 was escorted to the door by Gina, the false mute. 
 At eleven o'clock no one was prowling about in the 
 village, and there were no eavesdroppers to be 
 feared; Rodolphe drew Gina into a corner and said 
 to her beneath his breath, in wretched Italian: 
 
 "Who are your masters, my child? Tell me and 
 I'll give you this new gold-piece." 
 
 "Monsieur," replied the child taking the money, 
 "is the famous bookseller Lamporani, of Milan, one 
 of the leaders of the revolution and the conspirator 
 whom Austria is most anxious to have in the Spiel- 
 berg." 
 
 "A bookseller's wife ! Aha ! so much the better, " 
 thought he, "we're on the same level. Of what 
 family is she?" he continued aloud; "she has the 
 bearing of a queen." 
 
 "So have all Italian women," replied Gina 
 proudly. "Her father's name is Colonna. " 
 
 Emboldened by Francesca's humble condition in 
 life, Rodolphe ordered an awning spread over his 
 boat, and placed cushions in the stern-sheets. 
 When this change was effected, the amorous youth 
 proposed to Francesca to go with him upon the lake. 
 The Italian accepted the invitation, doubtless in 
 order to continue to play her part as a young miss 
 in the eyes of the village; but she took Gina. 
 Francesca Colonna's slightest actions gave evidence 
 of a superior education and the highest social rank. 
 By the way in which the fair Italian sat at the stern 
 of the boat, Rodolphe felt in some sense separated 
 from her ; and before the manifestation of the genuine
 
 70 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 pride of noble birth, his premeditated familiarity 
 fell to the ground. By a glance Francesca trans- 
 formed herself into a princess with all the privileges 
 she would have enjoyed in the Middle Ages. She 
 seemed to have divined the secret thoughts of this 
 vassal who had the audacity to constitute himself 
 her protector. Even in the furnishing of the salon 
 in which Francesca had received him, in her toilette 
 and the little things she used, Rodolphe had de- 
 tected indications of a lofty nature and exalted 
 rank. All these observations rushed back into his 
 mind at the same moment, and he fell a-musing, 
 after he had been, so to speak, trodden under foot by 
 Francesca's dignity. Even Gina, her confidante, 
 hardly more than a child, seemed to wear a mask of 
 mockery as she glanced at Rodolphe out of the 
 corner of her eye. This evident incongruity between 
 the Italian's condition and her manners was a new 
 enigma to Rodolphe, who suspected some other ruse 
 like Gina's pretended dumbness. 
 
 "Where would you like to go, Signora Lampo- 
 rani? " he asked. 
 
 "Toward Lucerne," Francesca replied in French. 
 
 "Good!" thought Rodolphe, "she isn't surprised 
 to hear me call her by her name, so she had antici- 
 pated my question to Gina, the sly creature! " 
 
 "What have you against me?" he said, sitting 
 down at last beside her and with a gesture asking 
 for her hand, which Francesca drew away. "You 
 are cold and ceremonious; in familiar style we 
 should say forbidding."
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 71 
 
 "True," she replied with a smile. "I am wrong. 
 It isn't right It's vulgar. You would say in 
 French : it's not artistic. It's much better to have 
 an explanation than to cherish hostile or unkind 
 thoughts against a friend, and you have already 
 proved your friendship. Perhaps I have gone too 
 far with you. You must have taken me for a very 
 ordinary woman " 
 
 Rodolphe multiplied gestures of denial. 
 
 "Yes, " continued the bookseller's wife, paying 
 no heed to this pantomime, which she saw perfectly 
 well however. "I noticed it, and naturally I came 
 to my senses. Well, 1 will put an end to it all by a 
 few words of profound truth. Understand this, 
 Rodolphe ; I feel that 1 have strength to stifle a sen- 
 timent which would be out of harmony with the 
 ideas or the prescience I have of genuine love. I 
 can love as we in Italy know how to love; but I 
 know my duty; no excess of feeling can make me 
 forget it Married without my consent to this poor 
 old man, I might avail myself of the liberty he so gen- 
 erously accords me; but three years of marriage are 
 equivalent to full acceptance of the conjugal law. 
 And so the most violent passion would not tempt 
 me to manifest, even involuntarily, a desire to be 
 free. Emilio knows my character. He knows that, 
 outside of my heart which belongs to myself and 
 which I can place where I please, I would not 
 descend so far as to allow anyone to take my hand, 
 and that is why I have just refused to allow you 
 to do it I want to be loved, to be waited for
 
 72 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 faithfully, with ardor and nobility of soul, as I am 
 unable to bestow anything more than infinite tender- 
 ness, whose expression will never pass the bound- 
 aries of the heart, the territory where it may exist. 
 When all this is thoroughly understood why!" she 
 continued, tossing her head like a young girl, "I 
 will be a flirt once more, laughing and giddy, like a 
 child who knows nothing of the danger of famil- 
 iarity." 
 
 This explicit, outspoken declaration was delivered 
 in a tone and accent accompanied with an expression 
 of the face that conveyed a most profound impres- 
 sion of its truth. 
 
 "A Princess Colonna would not have spoken more 
 eloquently," said Rodolphe with a smile. 
 
 "Is that a reflection upon my humble birth?" she 
 replied haughtily. "Does your love require an 
 armorial crest? At Milan the noblest names, 
 Sforza, Canova, Visconti, Trivulzio, Ursini, are 
 written over shop-doors; there are Archintos there 
 who are druggists; but I beg you to believe that, 
 although I was born to the station of shopkeeper, I 
 have the feelings of a duchess." 
 
 "A reflection? No, madame, I intended to speak 
 of you in terms of praise " 
 
 "By drawing a comparison?" said she, slily. 
 
 "Ah!" he replied, "in order that you may torture 
 me no more, if my words fail to express my senti- 
 ments, know once for all that my love is absolute 
 and carries with it unbounded obedience and re- 
 spect"
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 73 
 
 She bowed her head as if content, and said : 
 
 "In that case, monsieur accepts my conditions?" 
 
 "Yes," said he. "I understand that the faculty 
 of loving could never be lost to such a powerful and 
 richly endowed organization, and that, from motives 
 of delicacy you choose to hold it in check. Ah! 
 Francesca, to know at my age that my affection is 
 requited by a woman so sublime, so royally beauti- 
 ful as you are, is to attain the fulfilment of all my 
 wishes. Is it not enough to keep a young man from 
 all evil courses, to love you as you wish to be loved ? 
 is it not a means of employing his strength in a 
 noble passion of which he can be proud hereafter, 
 and which leaves none but pleasant memories? If 
 you knew with what beautiful colors, with what 
 poetic thoughts you have clothed the mountain chain 
 of Pilatus and the Rigi, and this superb sheet of 
 water " 
 
 "I would like to know," said she, with the art- 
 lessness of an Italian which always covers a little 
 finesse. 
 
 " Ah ! well, this hour will shed light over my whole 
 life, like a diamond on a queen's brow." 
 
 Francesca's only reply was to place her hand upon 
 Rodolphe's. 
 
 "O my darling, dear to me forever, tell me, have 
 you never loved?" he asked. 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 "And you will permit me to love you with a noble 
 love, awaiting the fulfilment of my hopes from 
 heaven?"
 
 74 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 She bent her head graciously. Two great tears 
 rolled down Rodolphe's cheeks. 
 
 "Well, well, what's the matter?" said she, laying 
 aside her r61e of empress. 
 
 "I have no longer a mother to tell her how happy 
 I am ; she left the world without seeing what would 
 have soothed her suffering" 
 
 "What is that?" she asked. 
 
 "Her affection replaced by an affection of equal 
 strength." 
 
 " Povero mio!" cried the Italian, deeply moved. 
 "It is a very sweet thing, believe me," she continued 
 after a pause, "and a very important element of a 
 woman's fidelity to know that she is everything on 
 earth to the man she loves, to see him entirely alone, 
 without family, with nothing in his heart save her 
 love, in short, to have him absolutely to herself." 
 
 When two lovers understand each other thus, the 
 heart experiences a delicious sense of peace, a sub- 
 lime tranquillity. Certainty is the basis that all 
 human sentiments require, for it is never lacking to 
 the religious sentiment; man is always certain of 
 being well paid by God. Love never feels secure 
 except when it bears this likeness to the divine love. 
 Therefore one must have experienced to their fullest 
 extent the pleasures of that moment, never occurring 
 twice in one man's life, in order to appreciate them : 
 that moment no more returns than the emotions of 
 youth return. To have faith in a woman, to make 
 of her one's human religion, the guiding principle 
 of one's life, the hidden light of one's slightest
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 75 
 
 thoughts ! is it not a second birth ? A young man 
 at such times mingles with his love a little of the 
 love he bears his mother. Rodolphe and Francesca 
 preserved absolute silence for some time, answering 
 each other by affectionate, thought-laden glances. 
 They understood each other there in the midst of 
 one of nature's fairest spectacles, whose magnifi- 
 cence, interpreted by their swelling hearts, assisted 
 them to engrave upon their memories the most fleet- 
 ing impressions of that unique hour. There was 
 not the slightest trace of coquetry in Francesca's 
 conduct All was frank and open and unequivocal. 
 This grandeur of soul made a deep impression upon 
 Rodolphe, who recognized therein the distinction 
 between the Italian woman and the French woman. 
 The water, the sky, the earth, the woman, every- 
 thing was grand yet sweet, even their love, in the 
 midst of that panorama, vast in its extent, rich in 
 its details, wherein the sharp snow-covered peaks, 
 their rigid outlines clearly defined against the dark 
 sky, reminded Rodolphe of the conditions in which 
 his happiness was to be imprisoned; a fertile 
 country surrounded by snow. 
 
 This beatific dream of the heart was soon to be 
 disturbed. A boat came from the direction of 
 Lucerne; Gina, who had been watching it atten- 
 tively for some time, made a joyful gesture, re- 
 maining true to her r&le of dumb girl. The boat 
 drew near and when Francesca could distinguish the 
 faces of its occupants, she cried out to one of them, 
 a young man :
 
 76 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "Tito!" 
 
 She stood up in the boat at the risk of drowning 
 herself, and shouted: "Tito! Tito!" waving her 
 handkerchief wildly. 
 
 Tito ordered his boatmen to back water, and the 
 two boats drew up alongside each other. The Ital- 
 ians talked together with such rapidity of utterance, 
 in a dialect altogether unfamiliar to a man who 
 hardly knew Italian as it is found in books and had 
 never been to Italy, that Rodolphe could neither un- 
 derstand nor guess at the drift of their conversation. 
 Tito's beauty, Francesca's familiar manner, Gina's 
 joyful expression, all combined to vex him. Indeed 
 there never was a lover who would not be in bad 
 humor to find that he was neglected for any- 
 one else in the world. Tito hastily tossed a little 
 leather bag, filled with gold no doubt, to Gina, 
 and a package of letters to Francesca, who at 
 once began to read them, waving a farewell to 
 Tito. 
 
 "Return at once to Gersau," she said to the boat- 
 men. "I mustn't leave my poor Emilio in suspense 
 ten minutes longer than is necessary." 
 
 "What has happened?" asked Rodolphe, when he 
 saw that the Italian had finished her last letter. 
 
 "Liberty!" she cried, with the enthusiasm of an 
 artist 
 
 "And money!" echoed Gina, finding her tongue 
 at last 
 
 "Yes," continued Francesca, "no more poverty 
 for us. For more than eleven months now I have
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 77 
 
 been working, and I am beginning to be weary. 
 Most decidedly I am not a literary woman." 
 
 "Who is this Tito?" asked Rodolphe. 
 
 "The Secretary of State for the financial depart- 
 ment of the poor Colonna establishment, otherwise 
 called the son of our ragyionato. Poor boy! he 
 couldn't come by the St. Gothard, or by Mont 
 Cenis, or by the Simplon: he came by sea, by Mar- 
 seilles; he has had to travel across France. How- 
 ever, in three weeks we shall be in Geneva, and 
 there we can live in comfort Come, come, 
 Rodolphe," observing the melancholy expression 
 upon the Parisian's face, "isn't the Lake of Geneva 
 as pleasant as the Lake of the Four Cantons?" 
 
 "Permit me to spare one regret for that delight- 
 ful Bergmann abode," said Rodolphe, pointing to- 
 ward the headland. 
 
 "You must come and dine with us to add to your 
 stock of memories, povero mio," said she. "To- 
 day is a holiday, for we are no longer in danger. 
 My mother tells me that, within a year perhaps, we 
 shall be amnestied. Oh! la cara patria I " 
 
 These three words brought tears to Gina's eyes. 
 
 "Another winter in this place and I should die!" 
 said she. 
 
 "Poor little Sicilian kid!" said Francesca, pass- 
 ing her hand over Gina's head with an affectionate 
 gesture that made Rodolphe long to be caressed in 
 the same way, even though there was no love in 
 the action. 
 
 The boat reached the shore, Rodolphe leaped out
 
 78 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 upon the beach, put out his hand to assist the 
 Italian, escorted her to the door of the Bergmann 
 house, and went home to dress in order to return as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 Finding the bookseller and his wife sitting on the 
 outer gallery, Rodolphe could hardly keep back a 
 gesture of amazement at the prodigious change the 
 good news had wrought in the nonagenarian's ap- 
 pearance. He saw before him a man of about sixty 
 years, perfectly preserved, a tall, thin Italian, 
 straight as an I, with hair still black, albeit some- 
 what thin and affording glimpses of a skull white as 
 ivory, bright eyes, a full complement of white 
 teeth, a face like Caesar's, and a half-sardonic 
 smile playing about his mouth the almost insincere 
 smile beneath which the companionable man con- 
 ceals his real sentiments. 
 
 "Here is my husband in his natural guise," said 
 Francesca gravely. 
 
 "It's like making an entirely new acquaintance," 
 rejoined Rodolphe, taken aback by the transforma- 
 tion. 
 
 "Even so," said the bookseller. "I have acted 
 in my day, and know how to play the old man to 
 perfection. Ah ! I acted at Paris in the days of the 
 Empire with Bourrienne, Madame Murat, Madame 
 d'Abrantes, e iutti quanti. Whatever one has taken 
 the trouble to learn in his youth, even trivial things, 
 is likely to be of use some time. If my wife hadn't 
 received a man's education, a thing frowned upon 
 in Italy, I should have had to turn woodman to make
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 79 
 
 a living here. Povera Francesca! who would have 
 thought that the day would come when she would 
 support me?" 
 
 As he listened to this dignified bookseller, so per- 
 fectly at ease, so affable and so strong, Rodolphe 
 believed that there was some mystery behind it all, 
 and maintained the watchful silence of the man who 
 has been once deceived. 
 
 " Che avete, signor?" Francesca naively asked. 
 "Does our happiness make you sad?" 
 
 "Your husband is a young man," he whispered in 
 her ear. 
 
 She burst into a hearty laugh, so spontaneous, so 
 contagious, that Rodolphe was more embarrassed 
 than ever. 
 
 "He has only sixty-five years to offer you," said 
 she; "but I assure you that there is something 
 consoling, even in that fact" 
 
 "I don't like to hear you joking about a passion 
 as holy as that of which you yourself established the 
 conditions." 
 
 "Zitto!" she exclaimed, tapping the floor with 
 her foot, and looking to see if her husband was 
 listening. "Never do anything to disturb that 
 dear man's peace of mind, for he is as innocent as a 
 child and I do what I please with him. He is under 
 my protection," she added. "If you knew with 
 what noble generosity he risked his life and his for- 
 tune because I was a Liberal ! for he does not share 
 my political opinions. Do you call that love, Mon- 
 sieur le Francais? But that's the way with the
 
 80 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 whole family. Emilio's younger brother was 
 thrown over by the woman he loved, in favor of a 
 fascinating young man. He ran his sword through 
 his heart, but ten minutes before he did it he said 
 to his valet: 'I would like to kill my rival, but it 
 would grieve la diva too deeply.' " 
 
 This combination of nobility and jesting, of 
 grandeur and childishness, made Francesca at that 
 moment the most bewitching creature on earth. The 
 dinner, as well as the evening that followed it, was 
 attended by an overflow of spirits which the deliv- 
 erance of the two refugees justified, but which made 
 Rodolphe sad. 
 
 "Can she be fickle?" he said to himself as he re- 
 turned to his rooms in the Stopfer house. "She 
 shared my grief, but I do not espouse her joy." 
 
 He reproved himself and justified the conduct of 
 the girl-woman. 
 
 "She is entirely free from hypocrisy, she yields 
 to her impulses," he said to himself. "And I would 
 have her like a Parisian woman!" 
 
 The next day and the following days for three 
 weeks, in fact Rodolphe passed all his time at the 
 Bergmann house, watching Francesca without any 
 previously formed plan to watch her. Admiration, 
 in certain hearts, is accompanied with a sort of 
 power of penetration. The young Frenchman 
 recognized in Francesca a thoughtless girl, a gen- 
 uine type of the woman as yet unsubdued, at times 
 struggling with her love, and at other times self- 
 complacently yielding to it. The old man bore
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 8 I 
 
 himself toward her as a father toward his daughter, 
 and Francesca manifested a heartfelt gratitude to 
 him which revealed the instinctive nobility of her 
 character. The situation of affairs and the woman 
 presented an insoluble enigma to Rodolphe, but one 
 which he became more and more intent upon solving. 
 
 These last days were filled with secret fetes, 
 interspersed with fits of melancholy, rebellions, dis- 
 putes more enchanting than the hours when nothing 
 marred their perfect understanding. He yielded 
 more and more to the naive charm of this unreason- 
 ing affection, so like herself in every point this 
 affection that was jealous of a mere nothing 
 already ! 
 
 "You are fond of luxury !" he said to Francesca 
 one evening as she was speaking of her wish to 
 leave Gersau, where she was obliged to do without 
 many things. 
 
 "I !" said she; "I love luxury as I love the arts, as 
 I love one of Raphael's paintings, or a handsome 
 horse, or a lovely day, or the Bay of Naples. 
 Emilio," she added, "did I complain during our 
 days of poverty here?" 
 
 "You wouldn't have been yourself if you had," 
 said the old bookseller gravely. 
 
 "After all isn't it natural for tradespeople to be 
 ambitious of grandeur?" she continued with a mis- 
 chievous glance at Rodolphe and her husband. 
 "Are my feet," she said, putting forward two lovely 
 little feet, "made for fatigue? Are my hands " 
 she held out one hand to Rodolphe "are these 
 6
 
 82 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 hands made to work? Leave us," she said to her 
 husband; "I have something to say to him." 
 
 The old man with sublime good nature returned to 
 the salon ; he was sure of his wife. 
 
 "I prefer that you should not go with us to Ge- 
 neva," said she to Rodolphe. "Geneva is a city of 
 gossips. Although I am far above the idiotic prattle 
 of the world, I do not wish to be slandered, not for 
 my own sake, but for his. It is my pride to be the 
 glory of that old man, who is, after all, my only 
 protector. We are going soon; do you remain here 
 a few days. When you come to Geneva, see my 
 husband first, let him present you to me. Let us 
 conceal our profound and unalterable affection from 
 the eyes of the world. I love you, and you know 
 it; but this is how I will prove it to you; you will 
 discover nothing whatever in my conduct that can 
 arouse your jealousy." 
 
 She led him to the end of the gallery, took his 
 head in her hands, kissed him on the forehead and 
 ran away, leaving him speechless. 
 
 The next day, Rodolphe learned that the Berg- 
 manns' guests had taken their leave at daybreak. 
 The thought of living at Gersau was insupportable 
 to him thenceforth, and he started for Vevay by the 
 longest route, traveling more quickly than he 
 should have done; and, irresistibly attracted by the 
 waters of the lake where the fair Italian awaited 
 him, he reached Geneva at last toward the end of 
 October. To avoid the inconvenience of living in 
 the city, he took lodgings in a house at Eaux-Vives,
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 83 
 
 outside the fortifications. He was no sooner in- 
 stalled in his new quarters than he sent for his host, 
 a former jeweler, and asked him if certain Italian 
 refugees, from Milan, had not recently taken up 
 their abode in Geneva. 
 
 "Not that I know of," was the reply, "Prince 
 and Princess Colonna of Rome have taken a lease 
 for three years of Monsieur Jeanrenaud's country 
 house, one of the finest estates on the lake. It is 
 located between the Villa Diodati and Monsieur 
 Lafm-de-Dieu's place, which the Vicomtesse de 
 Beauseant has hired. Prince Colonna came here on 
 account of his daughter and his son-in-law, Prince 
 Gandolphini, a Neapolitan or Sicilian, if you 
 choose a former partisan of King Murat and a vic- 
 tim of the last revolution. They are the latest 
 arrivals at Geneva and they're not Milanese. It 
 required a vast amount of negotiation and the pope's 
 influence in favor of the Colonna family, to obtain 
 permission from the foreign powers and the King of 
 Naples for Prince and Princess Gandolphini to 
 reside here. Geneva prefers to do nothing dis- 
 pleasing to the Holy Alliance, to which she owes 
 her independence. Our policy is not to get into 
 trouble with foreign courts. There are many for- 
 eigners here: Russians and English." 
 
 "There are some Genevans, too." 
 
 "Yes, monsieur. Our lake is so beautiful. Lord 
 Byron lived at Villa Diodati about seven years ago, 
 and now everybody goes to see it, like Coppet and 
 Ferney."
 
 84 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "You can't find out for me, can you, whether a 
 bookseller and his wife, one Lamporani, one of the 
 leaders in the last revolution, have arrived here 
 within a week?" 
 
 "I can find out by going to the Cerde des Stran- 
 gers," said the former jeweler. 
 
 Rodolphe's first excursion naturally had for its 
 objective point the Villa Diodati, once the residence 
 of Lord Byron, and rendered even more interesting 
 by that great poet's recent death ; death is the cor- 
 onation of genius. The road thither from Eaux- 
 Vives, which skirts the shore of the lake, is, like 
 all Swiss roads, extremely narrow; and in certain 
 spots, owing to the mountainous character of the 
 country, there is barely enough room for two car- 
 riages to pass. A few steps from the Jeanrenaud 
 house, which he had approached without being 
 aware of it, Rodolphe heard the wheels of a carriage 
 behind him ; and as he was at that moment in a 
 sort of defile he climbed to the top of a rock to leave 
 the road clear. Naturally he watched the approach 
 of the carriage, a stylish cateche drawn by two 
 superb English horses. His eyes swam as he recog- 
 nized Francesca, arrayed like a goddess, sitting on 
 the back seat of the caleche, beside an old lady as 
 stiff as a cameo. A footman, in glistening gold lace, 
 stood behind. Francesca recognized Rodolphe, and 
 smiled to see him standing like a statue on its 
 pedestal. The carriage, which the amorous youth 
 followed with his eyes as it climbed the hill, turned 
 in at the gate of a villa, and he at once hurried after.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 85 
 
 "Who lives here?" he asked the gardener. 
 
 "Prince and Princess Colonna, also Prince and 
 Princess Gandolphini. " 
 
 "Were those the princesses who just drove in?" 
 
 "Yes, monsieur." 
 
 In a second, a veil fell from before Rodolphe's 
 eyes, and the past was made clear to him. 
 
 "If only this is the last mystification!" said the 
 thunderstruck lover to himself at last 
 
 He trembled to think that he might have been the 
 plaything of a caprice, for he had heard what a 
 formidable thing a capriccio may be in the hands of 
 an Italian woman. But what a deadly crime, in a 
 woman's eyes, to have accepted a princess, a born 
 princess, as a woman of the bourgeois class ! to have 
 taken the daughter of one of the most illustrious 
 families of the Middle Ages for a bookseller's wife! 
 The consciousness of his blunders redoubled 
 Rodolphe's anxiety to know if he would be dis- 
 owned, repulsed. He asked for Prince Gandolphini 
 and sent in his card, and was immediately received 
 by the false Lamporani, who came out to meet him, 
 welcomed him with perfect courtesy, with true 
 Neapolitan affability, and took him the whole length 
 of a terrace, from which they could see Geneva, the 
 Jura and its villa-crowned hills, and the banks of 
 the lake extending as far as the eye could see. 
 
 "My wife is faithful to the lakes, you see," he 
 said, after pointing out the chief features of the 
 landscape to his guest "We have a sort of con- 
 cert this evening," he added, returning toward the
 
 86 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 magnificent Jeanrenaud mansion; "I trust that you 
 will give the princess and myself the pleasure of 
 your company. Two months of wretchedness en- 
 dured in common are equivalent to years of friend- 
 ship." 
 
 Although consumed with curiosity, Rodolphe did 
 not dare ask to see the princess; he returned slowly 
 to Eaux-Vives, absorbed by his anticipations of the 
 evening. Within a few hours, his love, prodigious 
 as it already was, was greatly increased by his 
 anxiety and by his suspense as to the future. He 
 realized now the necessity of making a name for 
 himself, so that he might be, socially speaking, 
 upon his idol's level. In his eyes, Francesca seemed 
 grand beyond words by reason of the unconstraint 
 and the simplicity of her conduct at Gersau. The 
 naturally haughty air of the Princess Colonna made 
 Rodolphe tremble; and he was certain to have 
 against him Francesca's father and mother, at 
 least he might well expect it; and the secrecy as to 
 their former acquaintance so earnestly urged upon 
 him by Princess Gandolphini seemed to him then a 
 convincing proof of her affection. By her unwill- 
 ingness to endanger the future did not Francesca say 
 as plainly as possible that she loved Rodolphe ? 
 
 At last nine o'clock struck and Rodolphe could take 
 a carriage and say to the driver with emotion easy 
 to understand : 
 
 "To Prince Gandolphini's, Maison Jeanrenaud!" 
 
 He entered the salon, filled with foreigners of the 
 highest distinction, and remained perforce in a group
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 87 
 
 near the door, for a duet by Rossini was being sung 
 at the moment. At last he caught sight of Fran- 
 cesca, but without being seen by her. The prin- 
 cess was standing within two steps of the piano. 
 Her beautiful hair, long and luxuriant, was confined 
 by a circlet of gold. Her face, with the candles 
 shining full upon it, displayed the marvelous white- 
 ness peculiar to Italian women, which produces its 
 full effect only by artificial light. She was in a 
 ball-dress, showing to the best advantage her mag- 
 nificent shoulders, her girlish waist and the arms 
 of an antique statue. Her sublime beauty was be- 
 yond all possibility of rivalry, although there were 
 lovely English women and Russians there, the 
 prettiest women in Geneva, and other Italians, 
 among whom the illustrious Princess of Veresa 
 shone pre-eminent, and the famous cantatrice, 
 Tinti, who was singing at that moment. Rodolphe, 
 leaning against the doorpost, fixed upon the prin- 
 cess a persistent, penetrating, magnetic gaze, laden 
 with the whole force of the human will concentrated 
 in the sentiment called desire, but which assumes at 
 such times the nature of a command. Did the flame 
 from that gaze reach Francesca? Was Francesca 
 momentarily expecting to see Rodolphe? After a 
 few moments she glanced toward the door, as if 
 attracted by that love-current, and her eyes, with- 
 out hesitation, plunged into Rodolphe's eyes. A 
 slight shudder stirred the superb face and the beau- 
 tiful body ; the shock to the heart reacted outward ! 
 Francesca blushed. Rodolphe lived a whole lifetime,
 
 88 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 as it were, in that exchange of glances, so swift 
 that it could be compared only to a flash of light- 
 ning. But to what can we compare his happi- 
 ness? he was beloved! The divine princess, there 
 in the magnificent Jeanrenaud villa, surrounded by 
 the kings and queens of society, kept the promise 
 given by the poor exile, the capricious guest at the 
 house of Bergmann. The intoxication of such a 
 moment makes a man a slave for a lifetime! A 
 slight smile, sly and fascinating, ingenuous and 
 triumphant, played about Princess Gandolphini's 
 lips, and, at a time when she thought she was un- 
 observed she looked at Rodolphe with an expression 
 that seemed to crave his forgiveness for having de- 
 ceived him as to her rank. The performance at an 
 end, Rodolphe succeeded in making his way to the 
 prince, who graciously led him to where his wife 
 was standing. Rodolphe went through the cere- 
 mony of a formal introduction to the princess, 
 Prince Colonna and Francesca. When this was at 
 an end, the princess was called upon to take part in 
 the famous quartet, Mi manca la race, which was 
 executed by herself, La Tinti, Genovese the famous 
 tenor, and an illustrious Italian prince then in exile, 
 whose voice, if he had not been born a prince, 
 would have made him one of the princes of the art 
 
 "Sit there," said Francesca to Rodolphe, point- 
 ing to her own chair. "Otmd! I believe there's 
 something wrong about my name: for the past few 
 moments I have been Princess Rodolphini. " 
 
 This confession, veiled behind a jest, was uttered
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 89 
 
 with a fascinating, artless grace that recalled the 
 blissful days at Gersau. 
 
 Rodolphe experienced the delicious sensation of 
 listening to the voice of the woman he adored, 
 sitting so near to her that one of his cheeks was 
 almost brushed by her dress and the gauze of her 
 scarf. But when, under such conditions, the Mi 
 manca la voce is being sung by the finest voices 
 Italy can furnish, it is easy to understand why 
 Rodolphe's eyes were wet with tears. 
 
 In love, as in everything else perhaps, there are 
 certain facts, of the most trifling importance in 
 themselves, but which result from a thousand 
 anterior circumstances, and may be very far-reach- 
 ing in their effects as summing up the past and lead- 
 ing the way to the future. We may have been 
 conscious time and again of the inestimable worth 
 of the loved one; but a mere nothing, the perfect 
 contact of two hearts welded together during a walk 
 by a single word, by an unexpected proof of love, 
 exalts that feeling to its highest point In fine, to 
 illustrate this moral truth by a figure that has had 
 the most incontestable success since the world be- 
 gan : there are, in a long chain, necessary points of 
 union where the cohesion is more perfect than in its 
 long succession of links. This mutual recognition 
 between Rodolphe and Francesca in the face of the 
 world during that evening was one of the supreme 
 incidents that bind the future to the past, that nail 
 genuine attachments more firmly in the heart Per- 
 haps it was of such nails scattered here and there
 
 90 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 that Bossuet spoke, when he, who was so keenly 
 but secretly alive to love's emotion, compared with 
 them the scarcity of happy moments in our lives. 
 
 Next to the pleasure of gazing admiringly with 
 one's own eyes upon the woman one loves, comes 
 that of seeing her universally admired; Rodolphe 
 enjoyed both pleasures at once. Love is a treasury 
 of memories, and although Rodolphe's was already 
 running over, he added divers priceless pearls to the 
 heap; smiles meant for him alone, furtive glances, 
 inflections of the voice while singing that Francesca 
 improvised for him but that made La Tinti turn pale 
 with jealousy, so wildly were they applauded. 
 Thus the whole force of desire, the special charac- 
 teristic of his heart, was concentrated on the lovely 
 Roman, who became unalterably the moving prin- 
 ciple and the goal of his every thought and his 
 every act. Rodolphe loved as all women may dream 
 of being loved, with a force, a constancy, a tenacity 
 that made Francesca a part of the very substance of 
 his heart; he felt that she was mingled with his 
 blood as purer blood than his, with his heart as a 
 more perfect heart ; she would thenceforth be always 
 present beneath the most trivial acts of his life as 
 the golden sand of the Mediterranean beneath its 
 waters. In short, Rodolphe's faintest aspiration 
 became an active hope. 
 
 After a few days, Francesca realized the immen- 
 sity of his love ; but it was so natural, so fully re- 
 quited, that she was not surprised at it; she was 
 worthy of it
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 91 
 
 "What is there surprising," she said to Rodolphe, 
 as they were walking upon the terrace in her garden, 
 after she had surprised him in the act of yielding to 
 one of the conceited impulses so natural to French- 
 men in the expression of their feelings, "what is 
 there to wonder at in your loving a young, beautiful 
 woman, who is enough of an artist to be able to earn 
 her living as La Tinti does, and can gratify your 
 vanity to some extent? What lout would not be- 
 come an Amadis under such circumstances ? That's 
 not the question between us. What we must do is 
 to be faithful and constant in our love, for long years 
 and at a distance, without other pleasure than that 
 of knowing that we are loved." 
 
 "Alas!" said Rodolphe, "shall you not consider 
 that my fidelity is deprived of all merit when you see 
 me intent upon the tasks set me by a consuming 
 ambition ? Do you think that I want you some day 
 to exchange the illustrious name of Gandolphini for 
 the name of a man who amounts to nothing? I 
 mean to become one of the most illustrious men in 
 my country, to be rich and great, so that you may 
 be as proud of my name as of your own name of 
 Colonna. " 
 
 "I should be very sorry to know that you had not 
 such sentiments in your heart," she replied with a 
 charming smile. "But don't expend too much of 
 your strength in satisfying your ambition ; remain 
 young. They say that politics makes a man old 
 before his time." 
 
 The rarest quality among women is a certain
 
 92 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 amount of light-heartedness that does not diminish 
 their affections. This combination of deep-rooted 
 sentiment with the gaiety of youth added other 
 adorable charms to those already possessed by Fran- 
 cesca. Therein lies the key to her character; she 
 laughs and weeps, she rises to lofty heights of sen- 
 timent and reverts to sly raillery with an abandon, 
 an ease of manner, which make of her the fascinating, 
 delightful creature whose reputation extends far be- 
 yond the limits of Italy. She concealed beneath the 
 charms of the woman very extensive learning, the 
 result of the monotonous, quasi-conventual life she 
 had led in the old chateau of the Colonnas. The 
 wealthy heiress was originally destined for the 
 cloister, being the fourth child of the Prince and 
 Princess Colonna; but the deaths of her twin 
 brothers and her older sister brought her forth sud- 
 denly from her retirement to make of her one of the 
 most desirable matches to be found in Roman terri- 
 tory. As her elder sister's hand had been promised 
 to Prince Gandolphini, one of the richest landed 
 proprietors in Sicily, Francesca's hand was be- 
 stowed upon him that there might be no change in 
 the family arrangements. The Colonnas and Gan- 
 dolphinis had always intermarried. From nine to 
 sixteen, Francesca, under the guidance of a cardinal 
 who was her kinsman, read the whole Colonna 
 library, in order to divert the course of her ardent 
 imagination by studying the sciences, the arts and 
 literature. But as a result of her studies she ac- 
 quired that leaning toward independence and liberal
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 93 
 
 ideas which led her to throw herself, as well as her 
 husband, into the revolution. Rodolphe did not as 
 yet know that, in addition to the five living lan- 
 guages, Francesca knew Greek, Latin and Hebrew. 
 This charming creature was fully conscious that one 
 of the first essentials of learning, in a woman, is 
 that it be carefully concealed. 
 
 Rodolphe remained all the winter at Geneva. 
 The winter passed like a single day. With the ad- 
 vent of spring, notwithstanding the exquisite pleas- 
 ure to be derived from the society of an intellectual 
 woman, of extraordinary learning, young and light- 
 hearted, this love-lorn youth experienced cruel 
 suffering, endured with courage to be sure, but which 
 sometimes made itself visible on his face," and 
 affected his conduct and his speech, perhaps because 
 he thought that he alone felt it Sometimes he was 
 annoyed at Francesca's tranquillity, for, like the 
 English, it seemed to be a matter of pride with her 
 to allow no trace of her feelings to appear upon her 
 face, whose serenity defied love; he would have 
 liked her to show some agitation, he accused her 
 of having no feeling, trusting to the commonly re- 
 ceived idea that all Italian women are restless and 
 excitable. 
 
 "I am a Roman!" Francesca gravely remarked 
 one day, taking seriously some jest of Rodolphe's 
 on that subject. 
 
 There was in the tone in which she made this 
 reply a depth of feeling which made it seem like 
 fierce irony, and which made Rodolphe's heart beat
 
 94 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 fast The month of May was displaying its treas- 
 ures of fresh verdure, the sun was as powerful at 
 times as in midsummer. The two lovers were lean- 
 ing upon the stone balustrade which surmounts the 
 supporting wall of a stairway leading down to the 
 landing-stage, at a part of the terrace where the 
 shore rises perpendicularly from the lake. From the 
 next villa, where there was a similar landing-stage, 
 a yawl shot out into the lake like a swan, with its 
 red flag and crimson canopy, beneath which a lovely 
 woman with a head-dress of natural flowers was loll- 
 ing upon red cushions, rowed by a young man 
 dressed as a sailor, who plied his oars with more 
 finished grace because the woman's eyes were upon 
 him. 
 
 "They are happy!" said Rodolphe in a discon- 
 tented tone. "Claire de Bourgogne, the last scion 
 of the only house that has ever held its own against 
 the royal house of France " 
 
 "Oho ! she descends from an illegitimate branch, 
 and in the female line too" 
 
 "But she is Vicomtesse de Beauseant, and 
 hasn't" 
 
 "Hasn't hesitated, you would say, to bury herself 
 here with Monsieur Gaston du Nueil?" said the 
 daughter of the Colonnas. "She is only a French- 
 woman and I am an Italian, my dear monsieur." 
 
 Francesca left the balustrade, turned her back on 
 Rodolphe, and went to the farther end of the ter- 
 race, whence there is a view of a vast expanse of 
 the lake. As he saw her walking slowly away,
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 95 
 
 Rodolphe had a suspicion that he had wounded that 
 heart at once so innocent and so enlightened, so 
 proud and so humble. He was cold with dismay ; he 
 followed Francesca, who motioned to him to leave 
 her to herself; but he paid no heed to the warning 
 and surprised her wiping away tears. Tears with 
 so virile a nature as hers ! 
 
 "Francesca," he said, taking her hand, "is 
 there a single regret in your heart?" 
 
 She said nothing, but withdrew her hand which 
 held her embroidered handkerchief, in order to wipe 
 her eyes again. 
 
 "Forgive me!" he continued. 
 
 And with an irresistible impulse, he put his lips 
 to her eyes to wipe away the tears with kisses. 
 
 Francesca was so deeply moved that she did not 
 notice this passionate movement Rodolphe, think- 
 ing that she consented, grew bolder ; he threw his 
 arm about Francesca's waist, pressed her to his 
 heart, and stole a kiss ; but she extricated herself 
 with a superb gesture of offended modesty, and 
 standing two steps away, said to him, without anger 
 but with decision : 
 
 "Go away to-night; we shall not meet again until 
 we return to Naples." 
 
 Notwithstanding the severity of this order, it was 
 religiously obeyed, for Francesca wished it. 
 
 On his return to Paris Rodolphe found at his rooms 
 the Princess Gandolphini's portrait, painted by 
 Schinner, as only Schinner can paint a portrait 
 The painter had passed through Geneva on his way
 
 96 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 to Italy. As he had positively refused to paint 
 several ladies, Rodolphe did not believe that the 
 prince, who was extremely desirous to have a por- 
 trait of his wife, could have succeeded in overcom- 
 ing the famous artist's repugnance; but Fran- 
 cesca had fascinated him, without doubt, and 
 had obtained from him and a prodigious achieve- 
 ment it was an original portrait for Rodolphe, 
 a copy for Emilio. That is what was told him 
 in an enchanting, soul-satisfying letter wherein 
 the thought took its revenge for the restraint im- 
 posed by the religion of the proprieties. The lover 
 replied. Thus began, to cease no more, a regular 
 correspondence between Rodolphe and Francesca, 
 the only pleasure they permitted themselves to in- 
 dulge in. 
 
 Rodolphe, mastered by ambition which his love 
 made legitimate, put his shoulder to the wheel at 
 once. He wanted fortune first of all, and risked all his 
 powers and all his capital in a new enterprise; but 
 he had to contend, with the inexperience of youth, 
 against a system of double-dealing which triumphed 
 over him. Three years were thrown away in this 
 vast undertaking, three years of courageous effort 
 
 The Villele ministry went by the board just at 
 the time when Rodolphe succumbed. Immediately, 
 the undaunted lover determined to seek in politics 
 what commerce denied him ; but before launching his 
 bark on the stormy sea of that career, he went, all 
 crushed and broken, to have his wounds dressed and to 
 procure a fresh supply of courage at Naples, whither
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 97 
 
 the Prince and Princess Gandolphini had been re- 
 called to be restored to their estates, at the acces- 
 sion of the king. This was a period of blissful 
 repose in the midst of his strife; he passed three 
 months at the Villa Gandolphini, soothed by sweet 
 hopes. 
 
 Once more Rodolphe began to rebuild the edifice 
 of his fortune. His talents had already attracted 
 attention, he was on the point of realizing his 
 ambition, an eminent position had been promised 
 him in recognition of his zeal and devotion, and of 
 services rendered by him, when the storm of July 
 1830, burst, and his bark foundered once more. 
 
 She and God, those two are the only witnesses of 
 the most brave-hearted efforts, the most audacious 
 ventures of a young man, endowed with valuable 
 qualities, but who, thus far, has failed to secure the 
 assistance of the god of fools, Luck ! And this untir- 
 ing athlete, sustained by his love, is about engaging 
 in fresh combats, made bright by a friendly glance, 
 by a faithful heart ! 
 
 Lovers, pray for him !
 
 When she came to the end of this tale, which she 
 fairly devoured, Mademoiselle de Watteville's 
 cheeks were on fire, fever was in her veins ; she was 
 weeping, but with rage. This novel, inspired by 
 the fashionable literature of the day, was the first 
 work of the sort Rosalie had ever been permitted to 
 read. Love was depicted there, if not by a master's 
 hand, at all events by a man who seemed to be 
 recording his own impressions ; now the truth, albeit 
 unskilfully told, should make its mark on a still vir- 
 gin heart Therein lay the secret of Rosalie's ter- 
 rible excitement, of her burning fever and her tears; 
 she was jealous of Francesca Colonna. She did not 
 doubt the sincerity of that poetic conception ; Albert 
 had taken pleasure in describing the beginning of 
 his passion, disguising the names, of course, and 
 perhaps the places as well. Rosalie was seized 
 with an infernal curiosity. What woman would not 
 have longed, as she did, to know her rival's real 
 name? for she was in love! As she read those 
 papers laden with contagion for her, she had said to 
 herself these solemn words: "I love!" She loved 
 Albert and was conscious of an intense longing in 
 her heart to fight for him, to tear him from this un- 
 known rival. She reflected that she knew nothing 
 of music and that she was not beautiful. 
 
 "He will never love me," she said to herself. 
 
 (99)
 
 100 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 This thought increased tenfold her desire to find 
 out if she were not mistaken, if Albert were really in 
 love with an Italian princess, and if she loved him. 
 During that fatal night the faculty of swift decision 
 which distinguished the famous Watteville, was 
 displayed to the fullest extent by his descendant. 
 She conceived some of those extraordinary projects, 
 about which almost every young girl's imagination 
 hovers, when, amid the solitude in which some in- 
 judicious mothers rear their daughters, they are 
 excited by some momentous event which the sys- 
 tem of compression to which they are subjected has 
 failed to anticipate or to prevent. She thought of 
 descending by a ladder, from the belvedere, into the 
 garden of the house where Albert lived, and of tak- 
 ing advantage of the advocate's slumber to look into 
 his office through the window. She thought of 
 writing to him, she thought of breaking all the fet- 
 ters of Bisontine society by introducing Albert into 
 the De Rupt salon. This enterprise, which would 
 have seemed the acme of the impossible to the Abbe 
 de Grancey himself, suggested a thought 
 
 "Ah!" she said to herself, "my father has some 
 trouble or other at the Rouxeys; I'll go there! If 
 there isn't a lawsuit about it, I'll start one, and he 
 will come to our salon!" she cried, darting from her 
 bed to the window to see the marvelous light that 
 illumined Albert's vigils. 
 
 One o'clock struck; he was still asleep. 
 
 "I shall see him when he gets up, perhaps he'll 
 come to his window!"
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS IOI 
 
 At that moment Mademoiselle de Watteville was 
 an eye-witness of an occurrence which was destined 
 to place in her hands the means of attaining a 
 knowledge of Albert's secrets. By the light of the 
 moon she saw a pair of arms stretched out from the 
 belvedere, which assisted Jer6me, Albert's servant, 
 to climb over the crest of the wall and enter the 
 structure. In Jerome's accomplice, Rosalie readily 
 recognized Mariette, the maid. 
 
 "Mariette and Jer&me," she said to herself. 
 "And Mariette is such an ugly creature ! Certainly, 
 they ought both to be ashamed of themselves." 
 
 Although Mariette was horribly ugly and thirty- 
 six years old, she had inherited several acres of land. 
 Having been seventeen years in the service of Ma- 
 dame de Watteville, who held her in high esteem 
 because of her piety, her honesty and her length of 
 service in the family, she had saved some money 
 without doubt, had invested her wages and her 
 profits. At ten louis a year, she should be the mis- 
 tress of some fifteen thousand francs, reckoning 
 compound interest and the land she had inherited. 
 In Jerome's eyes fifteen thousand francs changed 
 all the laws of optics : he thought Mariette had a 
 very pretty figure, he could not see the holes and 
 seams left upon her dull, wrinkled face by a terrible 
 attack of small-pox; in his eyes the twisted mouth 
 was straight; and since Savaron the advocate, by 
 taking him into his service, had brought him within 
 a short distance of the De Rupt mansion, he was 
 laying siege in due form to the pious serving-maid,
 
 102 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 who was as stiff and prudish as her mistress, and, 
 like all ugly old maids, was more exacting than the 
 loveliest of women. If now the nocturnal scene in 
 the belvedere is explained to the satisfaction of 
 clear-sighted folk, it was still most mysterious to 
 Rosalie, who nevertheless learned from it the most 
 dangerous of all lessons, that, namely, which a bad 
 example teaches. A mother brings up her daughter 
 with the utmost rigor, covers her with her wings 
 for seventeen years, and, in a single hour, a servant 
 makes this long and painful toil of no effect, some- 
 times by a word, often by a mere gesture! Rosalie 
 went back to bed, not without reflecting upon all 
 the advantage she might derive from her discovery. 
 The next morning, as she was on her way to mass 
 with Mariette the baroness being indisposed 
 Rosalie took her maid's arm, thereby greatly sur- 
 prising the young woman. 
 
 "Mariette," said she, "is Jerdme in his master's 
 confidence?" 
 
 "I don't know, mademoiselle." 
 
 "Don't play the innocent with me," rejoined 
 Rosalie dryly. "You allowed him to kiss you last 
 night in the summer-house. I am no longer sur- 
 prised that you were so much in favor of my 
 mother's proposed improvements there." 
 
 Rosalie was conscious of the fit of trembling that 
 seized Mariette, by the shaking of her arm. 
 
 "I wish you no ill," continued Rosalie; "never 
 fear, I won't say a word to my mother, and you can 
 see Jerome as much as you wish."
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 103 
 
 "But, mademoiselle," Mariette replied, "it's all 
 as it should be; Jerome has no other purpose than to 
 marry me " 
 
 "But, in. that case, why do you make appoint- 
 ments with him at night?" 
 
 Mariette was silenced and did not know what 
 reply to make. 
 
 "Listen to me, Mariette; I too am in love! I 
 love in secret, and all by myself. After all, I am 
 the only child of my parents; so you have more to 
 expect from me than from anybody else in the 
 world" 
 
 "Certainly, mademoiselle, you can rely upon us 
 in life or death," cried Mariette, overjoyed at this 
 unexpected conclusion. 
 
 "In the first place, silence for silence," said Rosa- 
 lie. "I don't want to marry Monsieur de Soulas; 
 but I do want a certain thing, absolutely want it; 
 you can have my protection only at that price." 
 
 "What is it?" Mariette asked. 
 
 "I want to see the letters Monsieur Savaron sends 
 to the post by Jerdme." 
 
 "Why, what for?" said Mariette in dismay. 
 
 "Oh! just to read, and you can put them in the 
 post yourself afterward. That will delay them just 
 a little, that's all." 
 
 At that moment Mariette and Rosalie entered the 
 church, and each of them pursued her own reflec- 
 tions instead of following the reading of the mass. 
 
 "Mon Dieu! how many deadly sins are there in 
 all this?" said Mariette to herself.
 
 104 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Rosalie, whose mind and brain and heart were in 
 a turmoil from the perusal of the novel, saw in it a 
 sort of narrative written for her rival. By dint of 
 thinking long, as children do, upon the same sub- 
 ject, she finally came to the conclusion that the 
 Revue de I'Est was probably sent to Albert's be- 
 loved. 
 
 "Oh!" she said to herself on her knees, with her 
 head buried in her hands, in the attitude of one lost 
 in prayer, "oh! how can I induce father to consult 
 the list of persons to whom the Revue is sent?" 
 
 After breakfast she walked around the garden 
 with her father, talking to him in a cajoling way, 
 and led him under the summer-house. 
 
 "Do you suppose our Revue goes to foreign coun- 
 tries, dear little papa?" 
 
 "It's only just starting " 
 
 "Well, I'll wager that it does." 
 
 "It's hardly possible." 
 
 "Go and find out, and copy the names of the for- 
 eign subscribers." 
 
 Two hours later Monsieur de Watteville said to 
 his daughter : 
 
 "I was right, there's not a subscriber yet outside 
 of France. They hope to get some at Neufchatel, 
 at Berne, at Geneva. They are sending a copy to 
 Italy, gratuitously, to a Milanese lady at her country 
 estate of Belgirate on Lago Maggiore. " 
 
 "What's her name?" said Rosalie eagerly. 
 
 "The Duchess of Argaiolo. " 
 
 "Do you know her, father?"
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 10$ 
 
 "Naturally, I have heard of her. She was born 
 Princess Soderini ; she's a Florentine, a very great 
 lady and quite as rich as her husband, who pos- 
 sesses one of the greatest fortunes in all Lombardy. 
 Their villa on Lago Maggiore is one of the curiosi- 
 ties of Italy."
 
 Two days later Mariette handed Rosalie the fol- 
 lowing letter : 
 
 ALBERT SAVARON TO LEOPOLD MANNEQUIN 
 
 "Well, yes, my dear friend, I was here at Besan- 
 con while you supposed I was traveling. I didn't 
 want to tell you anything until success was at hand 
 and this is its dawn. Yes, dear Leopold, after so 
 many abortive undertakings in which I have ex- 
 pended my purest blood, upon which I have wasted 
 such strenuous effort and so much courage, I deter- 
 mined to follow your example; to take a beaten 
 track, the high road, the longest but the surest I 
 can see you jump in your notarial armchair. But 
 do not imagine that there has been any change in 
 my interior life, of which you alone in the world 
 know the secret, subject to the conditions which she 
 required. I did not tell you so, my friend, but I was 
 horribly bored at Paris. The conclusion of the first 
 enterprise, on which I rested all my hopes, and 
 which came to nothing on account of the double- 
 dyed villainy of my two partners, who put their 
 heads together to deceive me and rob me me, to 
 whose energy every promise of success was due 
 made me abandon the idea of seeking pecuniary for- 
 tune after I had wasted in that pursuit three years 
 (107)
 
 108 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 of my life, of which one year was passed in litiga- 
 tion. Perhaps I should not have come out of it so 
 well had I not been compelled, at twenty, to study 
 law. I have determined to become prominent in 
 politics for the sole purpose of being some day in- 
 cluded among the elevations to the peerage under 
 the title of Comte Albert Savaron de Savarus, and 
 of reviving in France an honorable name which is 
 extinct in Belgium, although 1 am neither legitimate 
 nor legitimated! " 
 
 "Ah! I was sure of it, he is of noble birth!" cried 
 Rosalie, dropping the letter. 
 
 "You know how conscientiously I studied, how 
 hard I worked and how useful I made myself as an 
 obscure journalist, and what an admirable secretary 
 I was to the statesman who was faithful to me, by 
 the way, in 1829. Reduced to a cipher once more 
 by the Revolution of July, just when my name was 
 beginning to be known, and when, as master of 
 requests, I was at last on the point of being made 
 part of the political machine as a necessary spoke, 
 I made the mistake of remaining faithful to the van- 
 quished, of fighting for them without their assistance. 
 Ah! why was I only thirty-three years old; why 
 did I not ask you to make me eligible? I hid all 
 my sacrifices and all my perils from you. What 
 would you have? I had faith; we should have dis- 
 agreed. Ten months ago, when I seemed to you to 
 be so light of heart and so content with my lot,
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 109 
 
 writing my political articles, I was desperate! I 
 saw myself at the age of thirty-seven, with only two 
 thousand francs in the world, without the slightest 
 approach to celebrity, having just failed in a noble 
 undertaking, that of carrying on a daily newspaper, 
 which aimed to fill a want of the future instead of 
 appealing to the passions of the moment I didn't 
 know which way to turn. And yet I knew my own 
 powers ! I walked about, unhappy and wounded to 
 the heart, in the deserted quarters of that Paris 
 which had eluded my grasp, thinking of my foiled 
 ambition, but without abandoning it Oh! what 
 letters I wrote in my frenzy to her, my second con- 
 science, my other self! At times I said to myself: 
 
 " 'Why have I sketched so vast a program for 
 my life? why aspire to everything? why not await 
 the coming of happiness, devoting myself mean- 
 while to some quasi-mechanical occupation?' 
 
 "At such times I have looked about for a retired 
 spot where I could live. I was about to take the 
 editorship of a newspaper under a manager who 
 knew but little, an ambitious rich man, when I was 
 seized with terror. 
 
 " 'Would she want for her husband a lover who 
 had descended so low ?' I said to myself. 
 
 "That reflection gave me back my twenty-two 
 years ! Oh ! my dear Leopold, how the heart does 
 wear itself out in such perplexities! What must 
 caged eagles suffer, and imprisoned lions? They 
 suffer all that Napoleon suffered, not at St Helena, 
 but on the Quai des Tuileries on the tenth of August,
 
 1 10 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 when he, who could put down sedition as he did 
 later on the same spot, in Vendemiaire, saw Louis 
 XVI. defending himself so feebly ! Well, my life has 
 been that one day's suffering extended over four 
 years. How many speeches to the Chamber have 
 I not declaimed in the deserted avenues of the Bois 
 de Boulogne! These profitless improvisations did 
 at least sharpen my tongue and accustom my mind 
 to give form to its thoughts in words. While I was 
 suffering these secret torments, you married, paid 
 the last instalment of your notarial fee, and became 
 deputy-mayor of your arrondissement, after earning 
 the cross by the wound you received at Saint-Merri. 
 
 "Listen! When I was a little fellow and used to 
 torment cockchafers, the poor creatures used to do 
 one thing that almost gave me a fever : it was when 
 I saw them making repeated efforts to fly without 
 rising from the ground, although they succeeded in 
 spreading their wings. We used to say of them : 
 They're counting! Was it sympathy? was it a 
 vision of my future? Oh! to spread one's wings 
 and to be unable to fly ! That is what has been my 
 fate since that promising undertaking which turned 
 out to my discomfiture, but which made four fami- 
 lies rich. 
 
 "At last, seven months since, I determined to 
 make myself a name at the Paris bar, when I saw 
 what gaps were left there by the promotion of so 
 many advocates to high office. But, as I remem- 
 bered the rivalries that exist in the press, and how 
 difficult it is to succeed in anything whatsoever at
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS III 
 
 Paris, the arena in which so many champions meet, 
 I formed a resolution, cruel to myself, but certain in 
 its results and perhaps more speedily efficacious 
 than any other. You have explained to me, in our 
 talks together, the social constitution of Besancon, 
 the impossibility of a stranger's making his way 
 there, or making the least sensation, marrying, get- 
 ting into society, or succeeding in any direction 
 whatsoever. That was where I determined to plant 
 my flag, rightly concluding that I should escape 
 rivalry there, and should be quite alone in scheming 
 for election to the Chamber. The natives of 
 Franche-Comte don't choose to see the stranger, 
 the stranger will not see them ! they refuse to admit 
 him to their salons, he will never go there! he 
 won't show his face anywhere, not even in the 
 streets ! But there is one class of men that makes 
 deputies, the business men. I will make a special 
 study of commercial questions, with which I am 
 already familiar; I will win lawsuits, I will settle 
 disputes, I will become the leading advocate of 
 Besancon. Later on I will found a review there in 
 which I will defend the interests of the province, in 
 which I will create new interests, vivify or regener- 
 ate the old. When I have won over, one by one, a 
 sufficient number of votes, my name will head the 
 poll. Fora long while people will look with disdain 
 upon the unknown advocate, but there will be one 
 way of bringing him forward into the light, to un- 
 dertake a case gratuitously some case that other 
 advocates don't choose to touch. If I speak once I
 
 112 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 am sure of success. And so, my dear Leopold, I 
 had my library packed in eleven chests, I bought 
 such law books as might be of use to me, and I put 
 them all, as well as my furniture, on the goods- 
 wagon for Besanjon. I took my diplomas, scraped 
 a thousand crowns together and went to say fare- 
 well to you. The mail-coach landed me in Besan- 
 con, where, after looking about for three days, I 
 selected a small suite of rooms overlooking some 
 gardens; there I sumptuously furnished the myster- 
 ious office where 1 pass my nights and days, and 
 where the portrait of my idol looks down upon me 
 her portrait, to whom my life is consecrated, who 
 fills my heart, who is the mainspring of my strug- 
 gles, the secret of my courage, the foundation of my 
 talent When the furniture and books arrived, I 
 hired an intelligent servant and remained for five 
 months like a marmot in winter. My name was 
 inscribed on the roll of advocates, by the way. At 
 last I was appointed by the court to defend a poor 
 devil at the assizes, for the pleasure of hearing my 
 voice at least once, no doubt ! One of the most in- 
 fluential business men in Besancon was on the jury; 
 he had a complicated case of his own; I did all man 
 could do for the poor man, and I was entirely suc- 
 cessful. My client was acquitted, and I dramatically 
 caused the arrest of the real culprits who were 
 among the witnesses. At the end, the court echoed 
 the admiration of the public. I cleverly spared the 
 self-esteem of the committing magistrate by pointing 
 out that it was almost an impossibility to discover
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 11$ 
 
 so deftly woven a plot. I secured my wealthy 
 merchant as a client and won his case for him. The 
 chapter of the cathedral selected me for counsel in a 
 suit of immense importance, with the city, which 
 had lasted four years : I won it. By virtue of these 
 three causes I have become the leading advocate in 
 Franche-Comte. But I shroud my life in the most 
 profound mystery, and thus conceal my real pur- 
 pose. I have formed habits which enable me to 
 decline all invitations. I can be consulted only 
 between six and eight in the morning, 1 go to bed 
 immediately after dinner, and work during the night. 
 The vicar-general, a bright man and very influen- 
 tial, who employed me in the affair of the chapter, 
 which had been decided adversely in the court of 
 first instance, naturally spoke to me about my 
 remuneration. 
 
 " 'Monsieur,' said I to him, 'I will win your case, 
 but I want no fees, I want something more ' the 
 abbe gave a start 'Understand that I lose a vast 
 deal by taking up a position adverse to the city ; I 
 came here to be elected deputy, I don't care to un- 
 dertake any but commercial cases, because the busi- 
 ness men make deputies, and they will distrust me 
 if I try cases for the priests for in their eyes you 
 are the priests. If I undertake this case of yours, it 
 is only because I was, in 1828, private secretary to 
 such a minister ' another gesture of amazement 
 from my abbe 'master of requests under the name 
 of Albert de Savarus' another gesture. 'I have 
 remained true to monarchical principles; but as you 
 8
 
 114 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 are not in the majority in Besancon, I must look for 
 votes among the bourgeoisie. And so the fees that I 
 ask from you are such votes as you can turn over to 
 me, secretly, at an opportune moment Let us both 
 agree to keep the secret, and I will try all the cases 
 of all the priests in the diocese for nothing. Not a 
 word as to my antecedents, and let us be true to 
 each other.' 
 
 "When he came to thank me, he handed me a 
 bank-note for five hundred francs, and whispered in 
 my ear : 
 
 " 'The votes still hold good.' 
 
 "In the course of five consultations that we had 
 together I made a friend of this vicar-general, I 
 think. Now I am overcrowded with cases, and take 
 only those in which business men are interested, 
 saying that commercial questions are my specialty. 
 These tactics attract the business men to me and 
 allow me to ascertain who the influential people are. 
 So all goes well. Within a few months I shall have 
 found a house in Besangon to buy, which will give 
 me the necessary qualification. I rely upon you to 
 loan me the necessary funds for the purchase. If I 
 die, or if I fail, the loss will not be heavy enough to 
 make it a consideration between us. The interest 
 will be taken care of by the rents, and I shall be 
 very careful to wait for a good bargain so that you 
 may lose nothing by this enforced mortgage loan. 
 
 "Ah! my dear Leopold, never did a gambler, 
 with all that remains of his fortune in his pocket, 
 stake it at the Cercle des Strangers on the last night
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 11$ 
 
 which was to leave him rich or ruined, with such 
 perpetual jangling of bells in his ears, such a ner- 
 vous sweat moistening his hands, such feverish ex- 
 citement in his brain, such inward tremblings in 
 his body, as I experience day after day while I play 
 my last stake in the game of ambition. Alas ! my 
 dear and only friend, soon it will be ten years that 
 I have been engaged in this struggle. This con- 
 stant combat with men and things, in which 1 have 
 expended my strength and my energy, in which I 
 have almost worn out the springs of desire, has un- 
 dermined me, so to speak, within. Although 
 apparently strong and in good health, I feel that 
 I am a wreck. Every day carries away a frag- 
 ment of my inmost life. With every new effort 
 I feel that I can never begin again. I have no 
 force, no power left save for happiness, and if it 
 should not come and lay its wreath of roses on my 
 head, the / that is in me would cease to exist, I 
 should become a worn-out chattel, I should no longer 
 wish for anything on earth, nor wish to be any- 
 thing. As you know, the power and renown, the 
 moral fortune for which 1 strive, are but a secondary 
 consideration: they are the means of attaining 
 felicity, the pedestal of my idol. 
 
 "To die as one reaches the goal, like the runner 
 of old ! to see fortune and death arriving together at 
 one's threshold ! to obtain one's love at the moment 
 love is dying! to have lost the power to enjoy when 
 one has conquered the right to live happily! oh! 
 of how many men that is the destiny !
 
 Il6 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "Surely there comes a moment when Tantalus 
 calls a halt, folds his arms and defies hell, abandon- 
 ing his trade of everlasting trickster. I shall have 
 reached that point if anything should cause my 
 plan to fail ; if, after I have crawled in the dust of 
 the provinces, like a hungry tiger, around these 
 merchants and electors to secure their votes; if, 
 after I have tried their paltry cases and have given 
 them my time the time I might have passed on 
 Lago Maggiore, looking upon the water that she 
 looks upon, lying beneath her eyes and hearing her 
 sweet voice, if, I say, I should not make my way 
 to the tribune, there to win the halo that should 
 surround a name to succeed the name of Argaiolo. 
 More than that, Leopold, some days I feel a vague 
 languor; a deathly sense of loathing rises from the 
 bottom of my heart, especially when, in my long 
 reveries, I have plunged in anticipation amid the 
 delights of unclouded love! Is the power of desire 
 in our hearts limited, and can it perish by a too 
 great effusion of its substance? After all is said, 
 my life at this moment is a beautiful life, illumined 
 by faith and work and love. Farewell, my friend. 
 I kiss your little ones, and you will, I know, recall 
 to the memory of your good wife 
 
 "YOUR ALBERT." 
 
 Rosalie read this letter twice and its general pur- 
 port was engraved on her heart. She was suddenly 
 enabled to penetrate the mystery of Albert's previous 
 life, for her quick intelligence made its details clear
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 117 
 
 to her from the beginning. By combining this 
 knowledge with the novel published in the Revue, 
 she arrived at a complete understanding of Albert's 
 life and character. Naturally she exaggerated the 
 noble proportions of that great heart, of that power- 
 ful will ; and her love for Albert became a passion 
 whose violence was augmented by all the strength 
 of her youth, the ennui of her solitude and the hid- 
 den energy of her character. To love is a result of 
 the laws of nature in a young person ; but when the 
 craving for affection is directed toward a man of 
 extraordinary qualities, it receives a reinforcement 
 of enthusiasm which overflows its banks in youthful 
 hearts. So it was that Mademoiselle de Watteville 
 before many days reached a quasi-morbid and very 
 dangerous phase of amorous excitement 
 
 The baroness was very well satisfied with her 
 daughter, who, under the spell of her profound self- 
 absorption, ceased to resist her, seemed to apply 
 herself diligently to her various tasks, and realized 
 her beau ideal of the submissive daughter.
 
 The advocate at this time was trying two or three 
 cases a week. Although overburdened with busi- 
 ness, he attended to his duties at the Palais, looked 
 after the commercial litigation and the Revue, and 
 remained a profound mystery, realizing that his 
 influence would be the more genuine, the more 
 mysterious and hidden it was. But he neglected no 
 means of success, studying the list of the electors of 
 Besancon, and looking up their characters, their 
 friendships and enmities and their interests. Did 
 ever a cardinal, striving to be chosen pope, give 
 himself so much trouble? 
 
 One evening Mariette, when she came to Rosa- 
 lie's room to dress her for a party, handed her, not 
 without much inward groaning at the abuse of con- 
 fidence, a letter whose superscription caused Ma- 
 demoiselle de Watteville to shudder, and to grow red 
 and white by turns. 
 
 To MADAME LA DUCHESSE D'ARGAIOLO 
 
 Nee Princesse Soderini 
 Lago Maggiore BELGIRATE 
 
 ITALIE 
 
 This address gleamed in her eyes as the Mene, 
 Tekel, Upharsin must have gleamed in the eyes of 
 (119)
 
 120 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Belshazzar. Having concealed the letter she went 
 downstairs to accompany her mother to Madame de 
 Chavoncourt's. During the evening she was 
 assailed by remorse and scruples of conscience. 
 She had already felt ashamed of having violated 
 the secrecy of Albert's letter to Leopold. She had 
 asked herself many times if the noble-hearted Albert 
 could esteem her, knowing her to be guilty of that 
 crime, which the fact that it must necessarily go 
 unpunished, renders infamous. Her conscience 
 energetically answered: no! She had expiated her 
 sin by imposing penances upon herself; she fasted, 
 she mortified the flesh by remaining on her knees, 
 with folded arms, repeating" prayers for hours at a 
 time. She had forced Mariette to perform similar 
 acts of repentance. The truest asceticism was 
 mingled with her passion and made it so much the 
 more dangerous. 
 
 "Shall I read the letter, or shall I not?" she said 
 to herself as she listened to the prattle of the little 
 De Chavoncourts. One was sixteen years old and 
 the other seventeen and a half. Rosalie looked 
 upon these two friends of hers as little girls because 
 they were not secretly in love. "If I read it," she 
 mused, after wavering between yes and no for an 
 hour, "it shall certainly be the last As I have 
 taken so much pains to find out what he wrote to his 
 friend, why shouldn't I know what he says to her? 
 If it is a horrible crime, isn't it a proof of love? O 
 Albert, am I not your wife?" 
 
 When Rosalie was in bed, she opened the letter,
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 121 
 
 which was dated from day to day, thus affording the 
 duchess a faithful picture of Albert's life and emo- 
 tions. 
 
 25th. 
 
 "My dear heart, all goes well. I have just added 
 a valuable conquest to those I have previously made : 
 I have rendered a service to one of the men who are 
 most influential in election matters. Like the 
 critics, who make reputations without ever succeed- 
 ing in making one for themselves, he makes depu- 
 ties, but never becomes a deputy himself. The 
 good man undertook to manifest his gratitude to me 
 at small expense, almost without loosening his purse- 
 strings, by saying to me : 
 
 " 'Would you like to go to the Chamber? I can 
 procure your election as deputy. ' 
 
 " 'If I should decide to enter upon a political 
 career,' I replied with unblushing hypocrisy, 'it 
 would be to devote myself to the interests of the 
 Comte, for I am much attached to the province and 
 am appreciated here.' 
 
 " 'Very good, we'll induce you to stand, and 
 through you we shall have some influence in the 
 Chamber, for you will make your mark there.' 
 
 "And so, my beloved angel, whatever you may 
 say, my persistence will gain its crown. In a little 
 while I shall speak from the French tribune to my 
 country, to Europe. My name will be dinned in 
 your ears by the hundred voices of the French 
 press !
 
 122 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "Yes, it is as you say, I was old when I came to 
 Besancon, and Besancon has made me still older; 
 but like Sextus Fifth I shall be young again on the 
 day after my election. I shall enter upon my true 
 life, my proper sphere. Shall we not be upon the 
 same level then ? Comte Savaron de Savarus, am- 
 bassador to some court, can certainly marry a Prin- 
 cess Soderini, widow of the Duke of Argaiolo! 
 Triumph rejuvenates men whose faculties are pre- 
 served by incessant conflict. O my life! with 
 what joy did I rush from my library to my office, to 
 stand before your dear portrait, to which I told the 
 story of my progress before writing to you. Yes, 
 my own votes, the vicar-general's, those controlled 
 by this new client and those of the people I shall find 
 an opportunity to accommodate, make my election 
 certain already. 
 
 26th. 
 
 "We have entered upon the twelfth year since 
 that blissful evening when, by a glance, the lovely 
 duchess ratified the proscribed Francesca's promise. 
 Ah ! my dear, you are thirty-five ; the dear duke is 
 seventy-seven, that is to say his age alone is ten 
 years greater than both ours together, and he con- 
 tinues in good health! Give him my compliments. 
 I have almost as much patience as love. Besides, I 
 need a few years more to raise my fortunes to the 
 level of your name. I am light-hearted, you see, 
 and I can laugh to-day ! so much for the effect of a 
 hope. Sadness or gaiety, everything comes to me
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 123 
 
 from you. The hope of success always carries me 
 back to the day following that on which I saw you 
 for the first time, when my life was united to yours 
 as firmly as the earth to the light Qual pianto 
 these last eleven years, for this is the twenty-sixth 
 of December, the anniversary of my arrival at your 
 villa on the Lake of Constance. For eleven years 
 1 have been crying after happiness, and you have 
 been shining upon me like a star placed too high for 
 any man to reach ! 
 
 27th. 
 
 "No, my dear, do not go to Milan, remain at 
 Belgirate. Milan terrifies me. I don't like that 
 horrible Milanese custom of talking every evening 
 at La Scala with a dozen people, among whom it's 
 hardly possible that there wouldn't be some one 
 who would whisper soft words to you. To my mind 
 solitude is like the bit of amber in whose bosom an 
 insect lives for ever in its unchangeable beauty. A 
 woman's heart and body thus remain undefiled and 
 retain the form they wore in their youth. Do you 
 regret the Tedeschi ? 
 
 28th. 
 
 "Will your statue never be done? I would like 
 to have you in marble, on canvas, in miniature, in 
 every possible shape, to allay my impatience. I 
 am still awaiting the view of Belgirate from the 
 south, and the one from the balcony ; those are the 
 only ones I lack. I am so busy that I can say nothing
 
 124 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 to you to-day but a mere nothing, but that noth- 
 ing is everything. Did not God make the world 
 from nothing? My nothing is three words, God's 
 words / love you ! 
 
 3<Dth. 
 
 "Ah! I have received your journal ! Thanks for 
 your promptness! so you derived much pleasure 
 from reading the details of our first acquaintance 
 thus translated? Alas! even though 1 disguised 
 them, I was terribly afraid of offending you. We 
 had no novels, and a review without novels is a 
 pretty girl without hair. Having naturally but lit- 
 tle inventive faculty, and being in despair, I seized 
 upon the only poetic thought in my mind, the only 
 adventure to which my memory clings, I toned it 
 down so that it would bear being written, and I 
 never ceased for one moment to think of you while 
 I was writing the only literary production that will 
 ever come from my heart, I can not say from my 
 pen. Did not the transformation of the fierce Sor- 
 mano into Gina make you smile? 
 
 "You ask me about my health. It is much better 
 than in Paris. Although I work tremendously hard 
 the tranquillity of my surroundings has its in- 
 fluence upon my mind. The thing that fatigues and 
 ages a man, dear angel, is the agony of disappointed 
 vanity, the perpetual irritations of Parisian life, the 
 struggling with ambitious rivals. Tranquillity is 
 like a soothing balsam. If you only knew what 
 pleasure your letter gives me, your dear long letter
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 125 
 
 in which you describe so fully the most trivial inci- 
 dents of your life! No, you will never know, you 
 women, how deeply interested a true lover is in such 
 trifles. It gave me the keenest pleasure to see the 
 sample of your new dress! Is it of no importance to 
 me, pray, to know how you are dressed! whether 
 your sublime brow is unclouded? whether our 
 authors divert you? whether Canal is's poems stir 
 your soul ? I read the books you read. There is 
 nothing, even to your rowing on the lake, that does 
 not move me to tears. Your letter is lovely, sweet 
 as your heart. 
 
 "O my celestial, ever-adored flower ! could I have 
 lived without your dear letters which, for eleven 
 years, have sustained me in my difficult path, like 
 a brilliant light, like a sweet perfume, like meas- 
 ured music, like divine sustenance, like everything 
 that comforts and gives charm to life! Do not fail 
 me ! If you knew the agony I suffer the day before I 
 should receive them and what torture a delay of a 
 single day causes me! Is she ill? or is he? I am 
 between hell and paradise, I go mad! O mia cara 
 diva, continue to devote yourself to music, exercise 
 your voice, study. I am enraptured at the thought 
 that our hours are arranged in conformity, so that, 
 although separated by the Alps, we live in exactly 
 the same way. This thought delights my soul and 
 gives me renewed courage. When I argued my first 
 case I haven't told you this before I imagined 
 that you were listening to me, and I suddenly felt 
 within me the inspiration that raises a poet above
 
 126 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 humanity. If I go to the Chamber, oh ! you must 
 come to Paris to be present at my first appearance. 
 
 3oth, evening. 
 
 "My God, how I love you! Alas! I have made 
 too much depend upon my love and my hopes. 
 Any disaster that might capsize that overladen bark 
 would carry away my life! It is three years now 
 since I have seen you, and at the thought of going 
 to Belgirate my heart beats so violently that I am 
 forced to stop. To see you, to hear that childlike, 
 caressing voice ! to feast my eyes on that ivory-white 
 complexion, so brilliant in the light, and beneath 
 which one can divine your noble thoughts ! to gaze 
 with admiration at your fingers playing with the 
 keys, to receive your whole soul in a glance, and 
 your heart in the accentuation of an Qiml! or an 
 Alberto ! to walk together among your orange-trees in 
 bloom, to live for a few months in the heart of that 
 divinely beautiful landscape. That would be life 
 indeed. Oh ! what folly to run after power, a name, 
 fortune! Why, everything is at Belgirate; poesy is 
 there, and glory. I ought to have become your in- 
 tendant, or, as the dear tyrant we cannot hate pro- 
 posed to me, to have taken up my abode with you 
 as cicisbeo a suggestion which our ardent passion did 
 not permit us to accept. Adieu, my angel ; you will 
 forgive me when next I am sad in consideration of 
 this light-hearted effusion let fall like a beam of 
 light from the torch of hope, which has seemed 
 hitherto a mere will-o'-the-wisp."
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 127 
 
 "How he loves her!" cried Rosalie, dropping the 
 letter which seemed heavy in her hands. "To 
 write in this way after eleven years! " 
 
 "Mariette," said Rosalie to the maid the next 
 morning, "go and put this letter in the post; tell 
 Jer6me that I know all I wanted to know, and bid 
 him serve Monsieur Albert faithfully. We will 
 confess these sins without saying whose letters they 
 were or to whom they were going. I did wrong, I 
 am the only guilty one." 
 
 "Mademoiselle has been weeping," said Mariette. 
 
 "Yes, and I don't wish my mother to notice it; 
 give me some cold water." 
 
 Amid the tempests of her passion, Rosalie often 
 listened to the voice of her conscience. Deeply 
 touched by the marvelous fidelity of those two 
 hearts, she had prayed fervently and said to herself 
 that there was nothing for her to do but to submit, 
 to respect the happiness of two beings worthy of 
 each other, resigned to their fate, awaiting God's 
 will, and meanwhile forbidding themselves to 
 indulge in criminal acts or desires. She felt a better 
 woman, she experienced some internal satisfaction 
 after coming to this decision, inspired by the instinct 
 of uprightness natural to youth. She was encour- 
 aged therein by the girlish reflection that she was 
 sacrificing herself for him! 
 
 "She doesn't know how to love," she thought 
 "Ah! if it were I, I would sacrifice everything 
 for a man who would love me so. To be loved! 
 when and by whom shall I beloved? That little
 
 128 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Monsieur de Soul as cares for nothing but my for- 
 tune; if I were poor he wouldn't take any notice 
 of me." 
 
 "Rosalie, my dear, pray what are you thinking 
 about? You're going over the edge," said the bar- 
 oness to her daughter, who was making embroidered 
 slippers for the baron.
 
 Rosalie passed the whole winter of 1834 and 1835 
 in a state of secret, intense excitement; but in the 
 spring, in April, when she completed her eighteenth 
 year, she said to herself at times that it would be 
 worth while to get the better of a Duchess of Ar- 
 gaiolo. In the silence and solitude the prospect of 
 a contest to that end had rekindled her passion and 
 her evil thoughts. She fostered in advance the 
 development to her romantic audacity by making 
 plans upon plans. Although such characters are 
 exceptional, unfortunately Rosalies are far too 
 numerous, and this story contains a lesson that 
 ought to serve as an example to them. During that 
 winter Albert de Savarus had made tremendous 
 progress in Besancon in a quiet way. Sure of his 
 success he was impatiently awaiting the dissolution 
 of the Chamber. Among the leading lights of the 
 middle class he had made a conquest of one of the 
 makers of Besancon, a rich contractor who wielded 
 great influence. 
 
 The Romans took a vast amount of pains and 
 spent enormous sums of money to procure an unlim- 
 ited supply of excellent water for all the cities 
 throughout their empire. At Besancon they drank 
 water from Arcier, a mountain situated at a consid- 
 erable distance from Besancon. Besancon lies on 
 the inside of a horseshoe curve described by the 
 Doubs. The idea of rebuilding the Roman aqueduct 
 9 (129)
 
 130 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 in order to drink the water the Romans drank 
 in a city watered by the Doubs is one of those 
 absurdities which are possible only in a province 
 where the most exemplary gravity holds sway. 
 If that whim should take root in the Bisontine heart, 
 the city would be obliged to spend large sums, and 
 that expenditure would inure to the profit of the in- 
 fluential contractor. Albert Savaron de Savarus 
 decided that the Doubs was good for nothing but to 
 flow under suspension bridges, and that there was 
 no drinkable water save that from Arcier. Articles 
 appeared in the Revue de I'Est, which simply ex- 
 pressed the opinion of the business men of Besancon. 
 Nobles and bourgeois, Louis-Phillipists and legiti 
 mists, government and opposition, everybody in 
 short were agreed in their determination to drink the 
 water the Romans drank and to enjoy a suspension 
 bridge. The question of the water from Arcier 
 was the order of the day at Besancon. At Besancon, 
 as in the case of the two railroads to Versailles, as 
 in the case of all existing abuses, there were hidden 
 interests which gave abounding vitality to this idea. 
 The reasonable people very few in number, by the 
 way who opposed the project, were called old 
 fools. Nothing was talked of but the advocate Sa- 
 varon's two plans. After eighteen months of toiling 
 underground this ambitious mortal had succeeded in 
 stirring to its depths the one city in France that 
 was the most difficult to move and the most intolerant 
 of strangers ; he had reached a point where, to use 
 a vulgar expression, he could order rain or fine
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 131 
 
 weather, and where he exercised a positive influence 
 without leaving his own rooms. He had solved the 
 strange problem of how to be powerful without pop- 
 ularity. During that winter he won seven law- 
 suits for ecclesiastics of Besancon. So at times he 
 breathed the air of the Chamber in anticipation. 
 His heart swelled at the thought of his future 
 triumph. This boundless longing, which caused him 
 to bring forward so many different interests; to in- 
 vent so many motives of action, absorbed the last 
 powers of a mind already strained beyond all 
 measure. People lauded his disinterestedness, and 
 he accepted without comment such fees as his 
 clients chose to give him. But this disinterested- 
 ness was moral usury, for he expected a price for it 
 more considerable than all the gold in the world. 
 In October, 1834, with funds furnished by Leopold 
 Hannequin, he had purchased a house that gave him 
 the necessary qualification for election as deputy, on 
 the pretext of rendering a service to a merchant 
 who was in some financial embarrassment This 
 desirable investment he neither sought nor desired 
 so far as appearances went. 
 
 "You are a very remarkable man," said the Abbe 
 de Grancey to him ; it was natural that he should 
 watch the advocate and seek to divine his character. 
 On this occasion he had called to introduce a canon 
 who desired to consult the advocate. 
 
 "You are a priest who has missed his vocation," 
 he added. 
 
 This remark impressed Savarus.
 
 132 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 For her part, Rosalie had taken it into her head 
 a wilful head on a frail, girlish body to lure Mon- 
 sieur de Savarus into the salon and introduce him 
 to the social circle of the De Rupt mansion. Her 
 desires did not as yet go beyond seeing Albert and 
 hearing his voice. She had made a compromise 
 with them, so to speak, and a compromise is often 
 no more than a suspension of hostilities. 
 
 The Rouxeys, the patrimonial estate of the 
 Wattevilles, was worth ten thousand francs a year 
 net, but in other hands it would have produced 
 much more. The careless management of the baron, 
 whose wife was to have, and had, an income of forty 
 thousand francs, left the Rouxeys in charge of a sort 
 of Master Jacques, an old servant of the Watteville 
 family, named Modinier. Nevertheless, when the 
 baron and baroness wished to go into the country, 
 they went to the Rouxeys, which is very pic- 
 turesquely situated. The chateau, the park, every- 
 thing is the creation of the famous Watteville, who 
 became passionately fond of this magnificent spot in 
 his active old age. 
 
 Between two small mountains, whose summits 
 are entirely bare, called the Great and Little 
 Rouxey, in the centre of a defile, closed by the 
 Dent de Vilard, through which the streams from 
 these mountains rush down to join the cool, deli- 
 cious springs that feed the Doubs, Watteville con- 
 ceived the plan of building an enormous dam, 
 leaving two waste-weirs for the overflow. Above 
 the dam he obtained a charming lake, and below,
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 133 
 
 two cascades which joined forces just below their 
 bases and fed a fascinating stream with which he 
 watered the dry, uncultivated valley that was 
 formerly laid waste by the torrent from the Rouxeys. 
 The lake, the valley and its two mountains he en- 
 closed with a wall, and built himself a country- 
 house by the dam, which he had made to cover 
 three acres of ground by adding to it all the earth 
 that had to be removed when he dug the bed of his 
 river and his irrigating canals. When the Baron 
 de Watteville formed the lake above his dam he was 
 the owner of the two Rouxeys, but not of the upper 
 valley which he also inundated a valley which had 
 always been used as a thoroughfare and which ends 
 in a horseshoe at the foot of the Dent de Vilard. 
 But the savage old fellow was such an object of ter- 
 ror that, so long as he lived, no claim was ever made 
 on behalf of the inhabitants of Riceys, a small vil- 
 lage situated on the other side of the Dent de 
 Vilard. When the baron died he had connected the 
 slopes of the two Rouxeys, at the foot of the Dent 
 de Vilard, by a stout wall, in order not to inundate 
 the two valleys which entered the defile of the 
 Rouxeys to the right and left of that peak. He died 
 having thus taken possession of the Dent de Vilard. 
 His successors assumed a sort of protectorate over 
 the village of Riceys and thus continued the usurpa- 
 tion. The old murderer, the old renegade, the old 
 Abbe de Watteville brought his career to an end by 
 planting trees, by building a magnificent road around 
 the flank of one of the two Rouxeys to join the high
 
 134 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 road. Appurtenant to the park and the country- 
 house were extensive estates in a wretched state of 
 cultivation, chalets on the two mountains, and 
 primeval forests. It was wild and lonely, with no 
 other keeper than nature, abandoned to the hazards 
 of vegetation, but full of sublime inequalities. Now 
 you can form some idea of the Rouxeys. 
 
 It is altogether useless to embarrass this narrative 
 by recounting the prodigious efforts and the strata- 
 gems bearing the stamp of genius by which Rosalie 
 attained her object without allowing it to be sus- 
 pected ; suffice it to say that she obeyed her mother 
 when she left Besancon in May, 1835, in an old ber- 
 lin drawn by two big, fat, hired horses, on her way 
 to the Rouxeys with her father. 
 
 Love interprets everything to young girls. When 
 Rosalie left her bed on the morning following her 
 arrival at Rouxeys, and saw from her chamber win- 
 dow the lovely sheet of water over which the smoke- 
 like vapors hovered, floating in among the firs and 
 larches and crawling up the sides of the two peaks 
 to reach their summits, she uttered a cry of admi- 
 ration. 
 
 " They fell in love beside a lake! She is living 
 by a lake! Certainly a lake is the place for 
 love." 
 
 A lake fed by mountain snows has an opal tint 
 and a transparent quality that make it one vast dia- 
 mond; but when it is confined like that at the 
 Rouxeys between two blocks of fir-covered granite, 
 when all is silence round about the silence of the
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 135 
 
 savannahs or the steppes it extorts from every 
 mouth the cry that Rosalie uttered. 
 
 "We owe all this to the famous Watteville !" said 
 her father. 
 
 "Upon my word," said the girl, "he determined 
 to earn forgiveness for his sins. Let us take the 
 boat and go to the end of the lake," she added; 
 "we shall get an appetite for breakfast" 
 
 The baron sent for two young gardeners who knew 
 how to row, and took with him his prime minister, 
 Modinier. The lake was six acres wide, sometimes 
 ten or twelve, and four hundred acres long. Rosalie 
 soon reached the end of it at the foot of the Dent de 
 Vilard, the Jungfrau of this miniature Switzerland. 
 
 "Here we are, Monsieur le Baron," said Modinier, 
 motioning to the two gardeners to make the boat 
 fast; "would you like to come and look? " 
 
 "Look at what?" asked Rosalie. 
 
 "Oh! nothing, "said the baron. "But you are a 
 discreet girl and we have secrets together, so I can 
 safely tell you what is disturbing my mind: in 1830 
 trouble began between the village of Riceys and 
 myself, on account of this Dent de Vilard, and I 
 would like to settle it without letting your mother 
 know anything about it; for she's pretty obstinate, 
 she is quite capable of flying into a rage especially 
 when she learns that the mayor of Riceys, a repub- 
 lican, invented this claim to flatter his people." 
 
 Rosalie had the courage to disguise her joy, in 
 order to manage her father better. 
 
 "What claim?" said she.
 
 136 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "Mademoiselle," said Modinier, "the people of 
 Riceys have long had the right of pasturage and of 
 cutting wood on their side of the Dent de Vilard. 
 Now Monsieur Chantonnit, their mayor since 1830, 
 claims that the whole mountain belongs to his com- 
 mune, and insists that over a hundred years ago 
 they had a right of way over our property. You 
 understand that in that case we should no longer be 
 on our own land. Then that savage would eventu- 
 ally say what the old inhabitants of Riceys say, 
 that the land under the lake was stolen by the Abbe 
 de Watteville. That means death to the Rouxeys, 
 you know!" 
 
 "Alas! my child, between ourselves it is true," 
 said Monsieur de Watteville ingenuously. "This 
 estate is a usurpation confirmed by time. So, in 
 order not to be annoyed about it forever, I would like 
 to propose that we come to an amicable agreement 
 as to my boundaries on this side of the Dent de 
 Vilard, and then I'd build a wall there." 
 
 "If you yield an inch to the republic, it will 
 swallow you. It was your place to threaten 
 Riceys." 
 
 "That's just what I was saying to monsieur last 
 evening," said Modinier. "But, in order to 
 strengthen my argument, I suggested to him to 
 come and see if there wasn't some trace of a bound- 
 ary wall on one side or the other, at some level." 
 
 For a hundred years past there had been more or 
 less exploitation on both sides of the Dent de Vilard, 
 that sort of party wall between the village of Riceys
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 137 
 
 and the Rouxeys, but it had had no particular result 
 and had never been carried to extremes. The sub- 
 ject of dispute, being covered with snow during six 
 months of the year, was well calculated to keep the 
 question cool. So nothing less than the ardor 
 breathed into the defenders of the people by the 
 Revolution of 1830 was sufficient to stir up this 
 affair, by means of which Monsieur Chantonnit, 
 mayor of Riceys, hoped to give dramatic interest to 
 his existence upon the tranquil Swiss frontier and 
 to immortalize his administration. Chantonnit, as 
 his name implies, was a native of Neufchatel. 
 
 "My dear father," said Rosalie as they returned 
 to the boat, "I agree with Modinier. If you want 
 to have your way as to the division line on the 
 Dent de Vilard, it is necessary to act with vigor, 
 and to obtain a judgment that will put you out of 
 reach of this Chantonnit's manoeuvres. Why 
 should you be afraid, pray? Retain the famous 
 Savaron for your advocate, do it quickly so that 
 Chantonnit may not retain him in behalf of his 
 commune. The man who won the suit of the chap- 
 ter against the city will surely win that of the 
 Wattevilles against Riceys! Besides," she con- 
 tinued, "the Rouxeys will be mine some day that 
 day will be postponed as long as possible, I hope 
 so don't leave me with a lawsuit on my hands. I 
 love this estate and I shall live here often and add 
 to it as much as I can. I will lay out parks on those 
 shores," she said, pointing to the lower slopes of the 
 two Rouxeys, "and I will have some lovely English
 
 138 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 flower-gardens there. Let us go to Besancon and 
 not return without Abbe de Grancey, Monsieur 
 Savaron and mother if she chooses to come. Then 
 you can make up your mind what to do; but if I 
 were in your place 1 should have decided already. 
 Your name is Watteville and you're afraid of a fight! 
 If you lose the lawsuit why, I will never say a 
 single reproachful word." 
 
 "Oh! if you look at it in that light," said the 
 baron, "I'm perfectly willing; I'll see the advocate." 
 
 "Besides a lawsuit's very entertaining. It gives 
 a zest to life to have people going and coming and 
 bustling about. Won't you have a thousand things 
 to do before you get to the judges ? We have not 
 seen Abbe de Grancey for more than three weeks, he 
 was so busy!" 
 
 "But the whole existence of the chapter was at 
 stake," said Monsieur de Watteville. "Then, too, 
 the archbishop's self-esteem and his conscience and 
 everything that keeps a priest alive was involved 
 in the suit! Savaron doesn't know how much he 
 did for the chapter! he saved its life." 
 
 "Listen to me," she whispered; "if you have 
 Monsieur Savaron on your side your case will be as 
 good as won, won't it? Very well, let me give you 
 a piece of advice; you can't get Monsieur Savaron 
 to act for you except through Monsieur de Grancey. 
 If you take my advice we will go together to speak 
 to the dear abbe and not have mother present at the 
 conference, for I know a way to induce him to bring 
 Savaron the advocate to us."
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 139 
 
 "It will be very hard not to mention it to your 
 mother!" 
 
 "Abbe de Grancey will do that later; but you 
 just make up your mind to promise your vote to 
 Savaron at the approaching elections, and you'll 
 see!" 
 
 "Go to the polls! take the oath!" cried Baron de 
 Watteville. 
 
 "Bah!" said she. 
 
 "What will your mother say?" 
 
 "Perhaps she'll order you to do it," replied Ro- 
 salie, who knew from Albert's letter to Leopold what 
 the vicar-general had undertaken to do.
 
 Four days later, the Abbe de Grancey called upon 
 Albert de Savarus very early in the morning, having 
 advised him of his purpose the day before. The old 
 priest came to win over the great advocate to the 
 interests of the Watteville family, a step that shows 
 what tact and shrewdness Rosalie had secretly 
 developed. 
 
 "What can I do to serve you, Monsieur le Vicaire- 
 General?" said Savarus. 
 
 The abbe, as he set forth glibly and with admi- 
 rable simplicity the details of the affair, was listened 
 to with marked coldness by Albert 
 
 "Monsieur 1'Abbe," he replied, "it is impossible 
 for me to undertake to defend the interests of the 
 Watteville family, for reasons which you will un- 
 derstand directly. My role in this place consists in 
 maintaining the most scrupulous neutrality. I do 
 not choose to take any color, but to remain an 
 enigma until the eve of my election. To try a case 
 for the Wattevilles would be nothing at all at 
 Paris ; but here ! Here, where everything is com- 
 mented on, I should be universally looked upon as 
 the man employed by your Faubourg Saint-Ger- 
 main." 
 
 "What!" said the abbe, "do you suppose you can 
 remain unknown, when the candidates attack one
 
 142 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 another on election day? Why then they'll know 
 that your name is Savaron de Savarus, that you 
 have been master of requests, that you're a par- 
 tisan of the Restoration!" 
 
 "On election day," said Savarus, "I shall be all 
 that it's necessary for me to be. I expect to speak 
 at the preliminary meetings " 
 
 "If Monsieur de Watteville and his party should 
 support you, you would have a compact body of a 
 hundred votes, a little more reliable than those you 
 depend on. One can always sow discord among 
 selfish interests, but one cannot separate those who 
 are united by their convictions." 
 
 "Deuce take it!" rejoined Savarus, "I love you 
 and can do much for you, my father ! Perhaps there 
 are ways of compromising with the devil. What- 
 ever Monsieur de Watteville's case may be, the trial 
 can be postponed until after the elections, by retain- 
 ing Girardet and steering him properly. I will not 
 undertake to argue the case until the day after my 
 election." 
 
 "Do this one thing," said the abbe, "come to the 
 De Rupt house; there's a little lady of eighteen 
 there, who will have a hundred thousand a year in 
 due time, and you can appear to pay court to her " 
 
 "Ah! the young girl I often see on yonder sum- 
 mer-house " 
 
 "Yes, Mademoiselle Rosalie," replied the abbe. 
 "You are ambitious. If you should take her fancy 
 you might be all that an ambitious man longs to be: 
 a minister. A man always becomes a minister
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 143 
 
 when he combines your marvelous faculties with an 
 income of a hundred thousand francs." 
 
 "Monsieur 1'Abbe," said Albert hastily, "if Ma- 
 demoiselle de Watteville were three times richer 
 than she is, and if she worshiped me, it would be 
 impossible for me to marry her." 
 
 "Are you married?" exclaimed Abbe de Gran- 
 cey. 
 
 "Not at the church, not at the mayor's office," 
 said Savarus, "but morally." 
 
 "That's even worse, when one thinks so much of 
 it as you seem to do," rejoined the abbe. "What- 
 ever is not done can be undone. Do not rest your 
 fortune and your plans upon a woman's will, any 
 more than a wise man waits for a dead man's shoes 
 before beginning his journey." 
 
 "Let us drop the subject of Mademoiselle de 
 Watteville," said Albert gravely, "and agree upon 
 our facts. For your sake, whom I love and re- 
 spect, I will try Monsieur de Watteville's case after 
 the elections. Until then his matters will be 
 attended to by Girardet acting under my advice. 
 That is all I can do." 
 
 "But there are questions that cannot be decided 
 except by inspection of the localities," said the 
 vicar-general. 
 
 "Girardet can go," Savarus replied. "Here in a 
 city that I know so well, I prefer not to venture 
 upon a step calculated to endanger the enormous in- 
 terests that depend upon my election." 
 
 The Abbe de Grancey took his leave of Savarus,
 
 144 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 bestowing upon him a shrewd glance whereby he 
 seemed to laugh at the young athlete's determined 
 politics, while admiring his resolution. 
 
 "Ah! I have involved my father in a lawsuit, I 
 have struggled so to bring him to this house!" said 
 Rosalie to herself as she watched the advocate in 
 his office from the top of the summer-house on the 
 day following the conference between Albert and 
 Abbe de Grancey, the result of which had been 
 communicated to her by her father; "ah! 1 have 
 committed deadly sins, and you will not come to 
 our salon, and I shall not hear your melodious voice ? 
 You place conditions upon your services when the 
 Wattevilles and the De Rupts request them ! Ah 
 well ! God knows I would have been content with 
 small blessings; to see you and hear your voice, to 
 go to the Rouxeys with you so that they might be 
 sanctified in my sight by your presence I asked no 
 more than that But now, I will be your wife! 
 Yes, yes, look at her portrait, examine her salons, 
 her chamber, the four sides of her villa, the views 
 from her gardens. You are waiting for her statue! 
 I will make her like marble itself to you! That 
 woman doesn't love. Arts and sciences, literature, 
 singing, music have taken half of her feelings and 
 her intelligence. She is old, too, she's over thirty, 
 and my Albert would be unhappy!" 
 
 "What's the matter with you that you stay 
 here, Rosalie?" said her mother breaking in upon 
 her daughter's reflections. "Monsieur de Soulas 
 is in the salon, and he noticed your attitude, which
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 145 
 
 certainly denotes more profound thought than a girl 
 of your age should indulge in." 
 
 "Is Monsieur de Soulas an enemy of thought?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "So you were thinking, were you?" demanded 
 Madame de Watteville. 
 
 "Why, yes, mamma." 
 
 "No, you weren't thinking. You were looking at 
 that advocate's windows with an interest which is 
 neither proper nor modest, and which Monsieur de 
 Soulas of all men ought not to detect" 
 
 "Eh! why so?" said Rosalie. 
 
 "Why," said the baroness, "it's high time that 
 you should be informed of our plans ; Amedee finds 
 you to his liking, and you will be very lucky to be 
 Comtesse de Soulas." 
 
 Rosalie turned pale as a lily, but she made no 
 reply to her mother, to such a degree did the vio- 
 lence of her outraged feelings deaden her faculties. 
 But when she stood before the man whom she 
 had begun to hate bitterly an instant before, she 
 mustered up such a smile as ballet-dancers wear in 
 public. She was able to laugh, she had the strength 
 to conceal her rage, which gradually lost its fury, 
 for she determined to use this fat, dull-witted youth 
 to forward her plans. 
 
 "Monsieur Amedee," said she, when the baroness 
 went on ahead of them into the garden, making a 
 great show of leaving the young people alone, "didn't 
 you know that Monsieur Albert Savaron de Savarus 
 is a legitimist?"
 
 146 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "Legitimist?" 
 
 "Before 1830 he was master of requests to the 
 Council of State, connected with the office of the 
 president of the Council of Ministers, and high in 
 favor with the Dauphin and Dauphine. It would 
 have been well for you not to speak ill of him ; but 
 it would be still better to go to the polls this year, 
 present his name, and prevent poor Monsieur de 
 Chavoncourt from representing the city of Besan- 
 con." 
 
 "What's the occasion of the sudden interest you 
 take in this Savaron?" 
 
 "Monsieur Albert de Savarus, natural son of the 
 Comte de Savarus oh! pray don't betray the 
 secret of my indiscretion will be our advocate in 
 the matter of the Rouxeys if he's elected deputy. 
 The Rouxeys will belong to me, so my father tells 
 me ; I want to live there, for it's a fascinating place ! 
 I should be in despair to see that magnificent crea- 
 tion of the great Watteville destroyed " 
 
 " Diantre" said Amedee to himself, as he left the 
 De Rupt mansion, "that girl's no fool."
 
 Monsieur de Chavoncourt was a royalist one of 
 the famous two hundred and twenty-one. And on 
 the morrow of the Revolution of July he preached 
 the salutary doctrine of taking the oath of allegiance 
 and struggling against the existing order of things, 
 after the fashion of the Tories against the Whigs in 
 England. This doctrine was not well received by 
 the legitimists, who, in defeat, knew no better than 
 to entertain divergent opinions and to rely upon the 
 force of inertia and upon Providence. Being an 
 object of suspicion to his own party, Monsieur de 
 Chavoncourt seemed to the partisans of the govern- 
 ment of Louis-Philippe a most excellent choice to 
 make; they preferred the triumph of his moderate 
 opinions to the jubilation of a republican who polled 
 the combined vote of the enthusiasts and the 
 patriots. Monsieur de Chavoncourt, a man much 
 esteemed in Besancon, represented an old parlia- 
 mentary family; his fortune, amounting to about 
 fifteen thousand francs a year, offended no one, 
 especially as he had a son and three daughters. 
 Fifteen thousand francs a year amount to nothing 
 with such burdens. Now, when the father of a 
 family remains incorruptible under such circum- 
 stances, it would be strange if the electors did not 
 esteem him. Electors are as passionately interested 
 in the beau ideal of parliamentary virtue, as the pit 
 (H7)
 
 148 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 in the portrayal of generous sentiments to which it 
 is little addicted in practice. Madame de Chavon- 
 court, at this time about forty years old, was one 
 of the beautiful women of Besancon. During the 
 sessions of the Chamber, she lived quietly on one of 
 her estates in the country in order to save enough to 
 meet Monsieur de Chavoncourt's expenses in Paris. 
 In winter she received becomingly one day each 
 week Tuesday and she thoroughly understood her 
 duties as mistress of the house. Young Chavon- 
 court, then twenty-two, and another young gentle- 
 man, Monsieur de Vauchelles, not much richer than 
 Amedee, whose college chum he had been, were 
 extremely intimate. They rode together to Gran- 
 velle, they sometimes hunted together ; they were so 
 well known to be inseparable that people invited 
 them into the country together. Rosalie through 
 her intimacy with the Chavoncourt girls knew that 
 these three young men had no secrets from one 
 another. She said to herself, that, if Monsieur de 
 Soulas did betray her secret, it would be to his two 
 intimate friends. Now, Monsieur de Vauchelles had 
 his plans made for his own marriage, as Amedee 
 had for his: he proposed to marry Victoire, the 
 oldest of the little Chavoncourts, to whom an old 
 aunt was to promise an estate worth seven thousand 
 francs a year and a hundred thousand in cash, in 
 the contract. Victoire was this aunt's goddaughter 
 and favorite. It seemed certain, therefore, that 
 young Chavoncourt and Vauchelles would warn 
 Monsieur de Chavoncourt of the risk he ran from
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 149 
 
 Albert's pretensions. But this was not enough for 
 Rosalie; she wrote with her left hand to the prefect 
 of the department an anonymous letter signed A 
 Friend of Louis-Philippe, in which she told him of 
 the undisclosed candidacy of Monsieur Albert de 
 Savarus, reminding him of the dangerous assistance 
 a royalist orator might afford Berryer, and describ- 
 ing the advocate's crafty conduct at Besancon for 
 the last two years. The prefect was a clever man, 
 a personal enemy of the royalist faction, and de- 
 voted from conviction to the government of July 
 in a word, one of those men of whom they say on 
 Rue de Crenelle, at the Department of the Interior : 
 "We have a good prefect at Besancon." This 
 prefect read the letter and then burned it, as he was 
 requested to do. 
 
 Rosalie's object was to cause Albert to fail of 
 election, in order to keep him at Besancon five 
 years more. 
 
 The elections in those days were a struggle be- 
 tween the opposing parties, and in order to ensure 
 its triumph, the ministry chose its own ground by 
 selecting its own moment for the struggle. So it 
 happened that the elections were not to take place 
 for three months. When a man waits all his life 
 for an election, the time that passes between the 
 issuance of the order convoking the electoral colleges 
 and the day fixed for the performance of their duties, 
 is a period during which the ordinary affairs of life 
 are in a state of suspense. So Rosalie realized how 
 much latitude Albert's pre-occupation during those
 
 150 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 three months would allow her. She induced Mari- 
 ette whom, as she afterwards confessed, she 
 promised to take with Jerome, into her service, to 
 hand her the letters Albert sent to Italy and those 
 that came to him from that country. And while she 
 was putting these schemes of hers in operation, this 
 amazing creature embroidered slippers for her father 
 with the most guileless air imaginable. Indeed she 
 redoubled her affectation of candor and innocence 
 when she realized what good service her candid and 
 innocent air might render her. 
 
 "Rosalie's getting to be a charming girl," said 
 the Baronne de Watteville. 
 
 Two months before the election a meeting was 
 held at the house of Monsieur Boucher Senior, 
 attended by the contractor who was counting upon 
 building the bridge and the Arcier waterworks, by 
 Monsieur Boucher's father-in-law, by Monsieur 
 Granet, the influential personage to whom Savarus 
 had rendered some service and who was to propose 
 him as a candidate, by the solicitor Girardet; by 
 the printer of the Revue de I'Est and the president 
 of the Tribunal of Commerce. There were at this 
 meeting twenty-seven in all of those persons who 
 are called in the provinces the bigwigs. Each of 
 them represented six votes on an average ; but, on 
 counting up, the average was increased to ten, for 
 men always begin by exaggerating their influence 
 to themselves. Among these twenty-seven persons 
 the prefect had one man of his own, some false 
 brother who was secretly expecting a favor from the
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 151 
 
 ministry for himself or some of his kindred. At 
 this first meeting they agreed, with a degree of en- 
 thusiasm which no one could have hoped to see at 
 Besancon, to put forward Savaron the advocate as a 
 candidate. Albert was at home waiting for Alfred 
 Boucher to come for him, and talking meanwhile with 
 the Abbe de Grancey, who was deeply interested 
 in this far-reaching ambition. Albert had come to 
 realize the immense talents of the priest, and the 
 priest, moved by the younger man's entreaties, had 
 consented to act as his guide and counselor in this 
 supreme conflict. The chapter did not love Mon- 
 sieur de Chavoncourt; for his wife's brother-in-law, 
 who was president of the tribunal, had decided the 
 famous lawsuit adversely in the first instance. 
 
 "You are betrayed, my dear child," the shrewd 
 and venerable abbe was saying in that calm, sweet 
 voice which elderly priests assume. 
 
 "Betrayed! " cried the lover, with a sharp pain 
 at his heart 
 
 "By whom, I have no idea," replied the priest 
 "The prefecture is acquainted with your plans, and 
 can read your game. I cannot at this moment advise 
 you. Such matters have to be studied. As far as 
 the meeting this evening is concerned go forward to 
 meet the blows that will be aimed at you. Tell 
 them the whole story of your past life, and in that 
 way you will lessen the effect this discovery might 
 have upon the Bisontines. " 
 
 "Oh! 1 expected this," said Savarus in a falter- 
 ing voice. 

 
 152 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "You did not choose to take my advice ; you had 
 an opportunity to make your appearance at the De 
 Rupt mansion, and you don't know what you would 
 have gained by so doing " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "The unanimous vote of the royalists, a momen- 
 tary agreement among them to go to the polls in 
 short, more than a hundred votes ! Adding to those 
 what we call among ourselves the ecclesiastical vote, 
 you would not have been absolutely elected perhaps, 
 but you would have occupied the most advantageous 
 position when it came to a ballot In such case a 
 man makes terms, and succeeds " 
 
 At that moment Alfred Boucher entered, bubbling 
 over with enthusiasm, and made known the decision 
 of the meeting; he found the vicar-general and the 
 advocate calm, serious and unmoved. 
 
 "Farewell, Monsieur 1'Abbe," said Albert; "we 
 will look into this matter of yours more thoroughly 
 after the elections." 
 
 The advocate took Alfred's arm after exchanging 
 a significant grasp of the hand with Monsieur de 
 Grancey. The priest looked after the ambitious 
 youth, whose face wore the sublime expression that 
 a general's face must wear when he hears the first 
 cannon shot of a great battle. He raised his eyes 
 to heaven and left the room, saying: 
 
 "What a fine priest he would make !"
 
 True eloquence is not found at the bar. The 
 advocate rarely brings into play there the whole 
 force of his soul; were it not so he would die in a 
 very few years. Eloquence is rarely heard in the 
 pulpit to-day; but it is heard at certain sittings of 
 the Chamber of Deputies where the ambitious man 
 stakes everything to win everything; where, stung 
 by a thousand arrows, he bursts forth at a critical 
 moment But it may be heard even more certainly 
 in the mouths of some privileged beings at the cru- 
 cial moment when their aspirations are to meet with 
 failure or success, and when they are forced to 
 speak. So it was that, at the meeting in question, 
 Albert Savarus, alive to the necessity of making 
 converts to his cause, displayed all the faculties of 
 his soul, all the resources of his intellect in their 
 fullest development. He entered the salon, without 
 awkwardness or arrogance, gravely, with no sign of 
 weakness or dismay, and displayed no surprise upon 
 finding himself in the presence of some thirty or 
 more persons. The report of the meeting and its 
 decision had already brought some few docile sheep 
 to the fold. Before listening to Monsieur Boucher, 
 who was anxious to deliver a speech at him apropos 
 of the resolution of the Boucher committee, Albert 
 requested silence by a sign, and pressed Monsieur 
 Boucher's hand, as if to warn him of a danger that 
 had suddenly arisen. 
 
 (153)
 
 154 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "My young friend Alfred Boucher has just in- 
 formed me of the honor that has been conferred upon 
 me. But before this decision becomes irrevoca- 
 ble," said the advocate, "I think it my duty to ex- 
 plain to you who your candidate is, in order to 
 leave you at liberty to withdraw your pledges if my 
 declarations should disturb your consciences." 
 
 This exordium had the effect of producing abso- 
 lute silence. Some of those present deemed this a 
 noble proceeding. 
 
 Albert went on to describe his past life, telling 
 them his real name, what he had done under the 
 Restoration, declaring that he had become a new 
 man since his arrival at Besancon and making 
 pledges for the future. This improvised harangue, 
 it was said, kept his audience in breathless excite- 
 ment. These men, whose interests were so varied, 
 were fairly subjugated by the wonderful eloquence 
 that came rushing forth from the ambitious advo- 
 cate's heart and soul. Admiration prevented reflec- 
 tion. They understood but one thing, and that was 
 whatever Albert chose to put in their heads. 
 
 Was it not better for a city to be represented by 
 one of the men who are destined to govern society 
 from top to bottom, than a mere voting-machine! 
 A statesman is a power in himself; a deputy of 
 mediocre parts, though he be incorruptible, is only 
 a conscience. What a glorious thing for Provence 
 to have divined the power of Mirabeau, to have sent 
 since 1830 the only statesman produced by the Rev- 
 olution of July !
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 155 
 
 Under the spell of this eloquence, all who listened 
 to it believed it to be powerful enough to become a 
 magnificent political instrument to be wielded by 
 their representative. They all saw Savarus the 
 minister in Albert Savaron. Divining the secret 
 thoughts of his hearers, the adroit candidate gave 
 them to understand that they would have the first 
 claim to make use of his influence. 
 
 This profession of faith, this declaration of ambi- 
 tion, this narrative of his life and character, was, 
 in the opinion of the only man capable of passing 
 judgment upon Savarus, and who has since become 
 one of the shining lights of Besancon, a masterpiece 
 of address, of sentiment, of emotion, of interest, of 
 fascination. The electors were enveloped in the 
 whirlwind. No man ever had such a triumph. 
 But, unfortunately, words, which are a sort of 
 close-range weapon, have only a temporary effect 
 Reflection kills the word, when the word has 
 not triumphed over reflection. If they had voted 
 then, Albert's name would certainly have headed 
 the poll ! For the moment the victory was his. 
 But he must continue to win a similar victory 
 every day for two months. Albert left the meet- 
 ing with a fast-beating heart Applauded by the 
 Bisontines, he had achieved the great result of 
 nullifying in advance the unkind remarks which 
 his antecedents might call forth. The business 
 interests of Besancon adopted the advocate Sav- 
 aron de Savarus as their candidate. Alfred Bou- 
 cher's enthusiasm, which was contagious at first,
 
 156 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 was destined to prove a disadvantage in the 
 long run. 
 
 The prefect, dismayed by this triumph, set about 
 counting up the ministerial votes, and succeeded in 
 arranging a secret interview with Monsieur de 
 Chavoncourt, with a view of effecting a coalition in 
 the interests of both. Every day, by some means 
 that Albert could not fathom, the votes of the Boucher 
 committee diminished in number. A month before 
 the election Albert found that he had hardly sixty 
 votes. Nothing could resist the slow pressure of 
 the prefecture. Three or four clever men went 
 about saying to Savarus's clients: 
 
 "Will the deputy try your cases and win them for 
 you? will he give you advice? will he settle your 
 disputes and draw up your agreements ? You will 
 have him for your slave five years longer if, instead 
 of sending him to the Chamber, you simply give 
 him the hope of going there five years hence." 
 
 This argument was the more injurious to Savarus, 
 in that several of the merchants' wives had already 
 used it The parties who were interested in the 
 matter of the bridge and the Arcier aqueduct did 
 not decline a conference with a shrewd agent of 
 the ministerial party, who proved to them that 
 their interests would be safer with the prefecture 
 than in the hands of an ambitious stranger. Every 
 day resulted in a defeat for Albert, although 
 every day the battle was directed by him, but 
 sold out by his lieutenants a battle of words and 
 speeches and manoeuvring. He dared not call on the
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 157 
 
 vicar-general and the vicar-general did not make his 
 appearance. Albert rose and went to bed with his 
 brain on fire and fever in his blood. At last came 
 the day of the first struggle, what is called a pre- 
 liminary meeting, at which the votes are counted, 
 candidates reckon up their chances, and the know- 
 ing ones can sometimes forecast success or failure. 
 It is a hustings scene, orderly, without a mob, but 
 most impressive : the emotion is none the less pro- 
 found because it does not find expression in physi- 
 cal force as in England. The English do things 
 with blows of the fist; in France they use blows of 
 the tongue. Our neighbors have a battle; the 
 French play a game of cold-blooded schemes, calmly 
 worked out The two nations seem to exchange 
 characters in going through with this political pro- 
 cess. The radical party had its candidate; Mon- 
 sieur de Chavoncourt was proposed; then came 
 Albert, who was accused by the radicals and the 
 Chavoncourt committee of being an uncompromising 
 partisan of the Right, a duplicate of Berryer. The 
 ministry had its candidate, a figurehead, who served 
 to hold together the purely ministerial votes. The 
 votes being thus divided, no result was reached. 
 The republican candidate had twenty, the ministry 
 got together fifty, Albert had seventy and Monsieur 
 de Chavoncourt sixty-seven. But the perfidious 
 prefecture had caused thirty of its most devoted ad- 
 herents to cast their votes for Albert in order to 
 deceive him. Monsieur de Chavoncourt's votes, 
 added to the eighty the prefecture really controlled,
 
 158 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 held the key to the situation, if only the prefect 
 could succeed in luring a few votes away from the 
 radical candidate. A hundred and sixty votes were 
 unaccounted for, Monsieur de Graneey's and those of 
 the legitimist party. A preliminary meeting is to 
 an election what a dress rehearsal is to a theatrical 
 performance, the most deceitful thing in the world. 
 Albert Savarus returned home with a brave face, but 
 sick at heart. In the last fortnight he had had the 
 wit, the genius or the good luck to win over two 
 devoted adherents, Girardet's father-in-law, and a 
 very shrewd old merchant to whom Monsieur de 
 Grancey sent him. These two worthy men, acting 
 as his spies, appeared to be his bitterest enemies in 
 the opposite camp. Toward the close of the prelim- 
 inary meeting they informed Savarus, through Mon- 
 sieur Boucher, that thirty voters whom they did not 
 know were playing the same part in his ranks, that 
 they themselves were playing with his opponents. 
 A criminal on his way to the scaffold does not suffer 
 what Albert suffered when he returned home from 
 the hall where his future was at stake. The lover 
 in despair, refused to let any one accompany him. 
 He walked through the streets alone between eleven 
 o'clock and midnight 
 
 At one o'clock in the morning Albert, who had 
 not slept for three days, was seated in his library 
 upon a Voltaire easy-chair, his face as pale as if he 
 were dying, his hands listlessly hanging at his 
 sides, in a despairing attitude worthy of the Mag- 
 dalen. Tears were flowing beneath his long lashes,
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 159 
 
 tears of the sort that moisten the eyes but do not 
 roll down the cheeks; the mind drinks them up, the 
 fire in the heart consumes them ! He was alone and 
 could weep. He saw in the belvedere a white figure 
 that reminded him of Francesca. 
 
 "And it is three months since I received a letter 
 from her! What has become of her? I did not 
 write to her for two months, but I told her that I 
 should not. Is she ill? O my love! O my life! 
 will you ever know what I have suffered? What a 
 fatal temperament is mine! Have I an aneurism?" 
 he asked himself, feeling his heart beat so violently 
 that its pulsations were audible in the silence as if 
 grains of sand were being dropped upon a drum. 
 
 At that moment there were three gentle knocks at 
 Albert's door; he hurried to open it, and was near 
 fainting with joy when he saw the vicar-general 
 with a jovial expression, an expression of triumph 
 on his face. He seized the abbe without uttering 
 a word, took him in his arms, pressed him to his 
 heart, letting his head fall on the old man's shoulder. 
 And he became a child once more, he wept as he 
 wept when he learned that Francesca Soderini was 
 married. He gave no sign of his weakness except 
 to this priest, whose face was beaming with hope. 
 The priest had been sublime and no less shrewd 
 than sublime. 
 
 "Forgive me, dear abbe, but you have come at 
 one of those supreme moments when the man dis- 
 appears, for do not deem me a mere vulgar ambi- 
 tious creature."
 
 160 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "Oh! I know," rejoined the abbe, "you wrote 
 Ambitious through Lowe! Ah! my child, it was a 
 lover's despair that made me a priest in 1786, at 
 twenty-two. In 1788 I was a cure. I know what 
 life is. I have already refused three bishoprics, for 
 I wish to die at Besancon. " 
 
 "Come and see her! " cried Savarus, seizing the 
 candle and leading the abbe into the magnificently- 
 furnished office where the portrait of the Duchess 
 of Argaiolo was hanging; he held the light, so that 
 it fell upon the face. 
 
 "She is one of the women who were born to 
 reign!" said the vicar, appreciating the affec- 
 tion for himself that this silent confidence from 
 Albert implied. "But there is a world of pride 
 upon that brow; it is implacable, it would never 
 pardon an affront! It is Michael the archangel, 
 the angel of execution, the inflexible angel All 
 or nothing! is the motto of such angelic charac- 
 ters. There is something divinely savage in that 
 head!" 
 
 "You have rightly divined her character," cried 
 Savarus. "But, my dear abbe, for more than 
 twelve years she has reigned over my life and I 
 haven't a single thought for which to reproach 
 myself " 
 
 "Ah! if you had done as much for God!" said 
 the abbe frankly. "Let us talk of your affairs. 
 For ten days I have been at work for you. If you 
 are a true politician, you will follow my advice this 
 time. You wouldn't be where you are now if you
 
 THE ABBE DE GRAN CEY AND SAVARUS 
 
 He seized the abbe without uttering a word, took 
 him in his arms, pressed him to his heart, letting 
 his head fall on the old man's shoulder. And he 
 became a child once more, he wept as he wept when 
 he learned that Francesca Soderini was married. 
 He gave no sign of his weakness except to this priest, 
 whose face was beaming with hope. The priest had 
 been sublime and no less shrewd than sublime.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS l6l 
 
 had gone to the De Rupt house when I told you to ; 
 but you will go to-morrow, I will present you there 
 in the evening. The Rouxeys estate is threatened 
 and the case must be tried in two days. The elec- 
 tion won't take place for three days. They will 
 take care not to complete the organization of the 
 election committee the first day; we shall have to 
 vote several times and you will succeed when it 
 comes to a vote by ballot " 
 
 "How, pray?" 
 
 "By winning the Rouxeys lawsuit you will gain 
 eighty legitimist votes ; add these to the thirty I have 
 at my disposal and we have a hundred and ten. 
 Now, as you will still have twenty of the Boucher 
 committee, you will have a hundred and thirty 
 in all." 
 
 "Very good," said Albert, "but we need seventy- 
 five more than that" 
 
 "Yes," said the priest, "for all the rest belong to 
 the ministry. But, my dear boy, you have two 
 hundred votes, and the prefecture has only a hun- 
 dred and eighty." 
 
 "I have two hundred votes?" said Albert, who 
 stood speechless with amazement after jumping to 
 his feet as if impelled by a spring. 
 
 "You have Monsieur de Chavoncourt's votes," 
 replied the abbe. 
 
 "How so?" queried Albert 
 
 "You will marry Mademoiselle Sidonie de Chavon- 
 court" 
 
 "Never!" 
 ii
 
 162 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "You will marry Mademoiselle Sidonie de Cha- 
 voncourt," the priest repeated coldly. 
 
 "But, look, she is implacable!" said Albert, 
 pointing to Francesca. 
 
 "You will marry Mademoiselle de Chavoncourt, " 
 said the priest coldly, for the third time. 
 
 That time Albert understood. The vicar-general 
 did not choose to dip his hands in the plan which 
 seemed at last to smile upon this politician in 
 despair. A word more would have compromised the 
 priest's dignity, his honor. 
 
 "You will find Madame de Chavoncourt and her 
 second daughter at the Watteville's to-morrow; you 
 will thank her for what she is to do for you, you 
 will say that your gratitude knows no bounds ; in a 
 word, you belong to her, body and soul, your future 
 is henceforth identical with that of her family, you 
 are disinterested, you have so great confidence in 
 yourself that you look upon an election as deputy as 
 a sufficient marriage-portion. You will have a 
 struggle with Madame de Chavoncourt, she will 
 want your word. This evening, my son, contains 
 your whole future. But understand that 1 have no 
 part in it. I am responsible only for the legitimist 
 votes; I have won over Madame de Watteville, 
 and that means the whole aristocracy of Besan- 
 con. Amedee de Soulas and Vauchelles, who will 
 vote for you, have worked upon the young men; 
 Madame de Watteville will look after the old men 
 for you. As for my votes, they are absolutely 
 certain."
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 163 
 
 "Who then has influenced Madame de Chavon- 
 court, pray?" asked Savarus. 
 
 "Don't ask me any questions," the abbe replied. 
 "Monsieur de Chavoncourt, who has three daugh- 
 ters to be married, is incapable of adding to his 
 fortune. If Vauchelles marries the oldest one with- 
 out a dowry, because of the old aunt who looks after 
 the finances in the contract, what is he to do with 
 the two others ? Sidonie is sixteen and you have a 
 vast treasure in your ambition. Someone told Ma- 
 dame de Chavoncourt that it was better to marry 
 one of her daughters than to send her husband to eat 
 up money at Paris. That someone leads Madame 
 de Chavoncourt, and Madame de Chavoncourt leads 
 her husband." 
 
 "Enough, dear abbe! I understand. Once 
 elected deputy, I have someone's fortune to make, 
 and by making it a magnificent one I shall have 
 fulfilled my promise. You have in me a son, a man 
 who will owe his happiness to you. God! what 
 have I done to deserve such true friendship?" 
 
 "You won a triumph for the chapter," said the 
 vicar-general with a smile. "Now be as silent as 
 the tomb touching all this. We amount to nothing, 
 we do nothing. If people knew we were interfering 
 with elections we should be eaten raw by the puri- 
 tans of the Left, who do much worse things, and 
 blamed by some of our own people, who want to do 
 everything themselves. Madame de Chavoncourt 
 doesn't suspect my participation in this arrange- 
 ment I have confided in no one but Madame de
 
 164 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Watteville, and we can rely upon her as upon our- 
 selves." 
 
 "I will bring the duchess here for you to give us 
 your blessing!" cried the ambitious advocate. 
 
 Having shown the venerable priest to the door 
 Albert went to bed wrapped in a sense of power.
 
 At nine o'clock the following evening, as may be 
 imagined, Madame de Watteville's salons were filled 
 with the Bisontine aristocracy, convoked in extraor- 
 dinary session! They were discussing the excep- 
 tional step of going to the polls to gratify the daugh- 
 ter of the De Rupts. They knew that the former 
 master of requests, the secretary of one of the most 
 faithful ministers of the elder branch, was to be 
 presented to them. Madame de Chavoncourt was 
 there with her second daughter Sidonie, arrayed like 
 a goddess, while her first-born, sure of her lover, 
 had recourse to no artifices of the toilette. Such 
 trivial matters are noticed in the provinces. The 
 handsome, clever face of the Abbe de Grancey was 
 seen amid the various groups from time to time 
 listening, apparently taking no part in the discus- 
 sions, but injecting now and then one of those in- 
 cisive phrases which summarize a question and 
 decide it 
 
 "If the elder branch should return," he said to a 
 septuagenarian statesman, "what supporters would 
 it find among the politicians? Berryer, alone on his 
 bench, doesn't know what course to take ; if he had 
 sixty votes he could block the government many 
 times and overturn ministries! They're going to 
 elect the Due de Fitz- James at Toulouse. You will 
 help Monsieur de Watteville win his lawsuit! If 
 (165)
 
 166 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 you vote for Monsieur de Savarus, the republicans 
 will vote with you rather than vote with the gov- 
 ernment!" Etc., etc. 
 
 At nine o'clock Albert had not arrived. Madame 
 de Watteville was inclined to look upon such tardi- 
 ness as an impertinence. 
 
 "Dear baroness," said Madame de Chavoncourt, 
 "let us not allow such important matters to depend 
 on a punctilio. A varnished boot that is backward 
 about drying a consultation detains Monsieur de 
 Savarus perhaps." 
 
 Rosalie looked askance at Madame de Chavon- 
 court 
 
 "She's very considerate to Monsieur de Savarus !" 
 she said in an undertone to her mother. 
 
 "Why there's some talk of a match between 
 Sidonie and Monsieur de Savarus," replied the 
 baroness with a smile. 
 
 Rosalie walked abruptly toward a window that 
 looked out on the garden. At ten o'clock Monsieur 
 de Savarus had still not appeared. The storm that 
 had been rumbling in the distance burst. Some 
 noblemen began to play cards, considering it an in- 
 tolerable insult. The Abbe de Grancey, who did not 
 know what to think, went to the window where 
 Rosalie had hidden herself, and said aloud, so com- 
 pletely puzzled was he : 
 
 "He must be dead!" 
 
 The vicar-general went out into the garden, fol- 
 lowed by Monsieur de Watteville and Rosalie, and 
 all three went up to the belvedere. Everything was
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 167 
 
 closed in Albert's apartments, no light was any- 
 where visible. 
 
 "Jer6me!" cried Rosalie, spying the servant in 
 the courtyard. 
 
 The abbe looked at Rosalie. 
 
 "Where's your master?" she asked the servant, 
 who had come to the foot of the wall. 
 
 "Gone away, by postchaise, mademoiselle." 
 
 "He is ruined," cried Abbe de Grancey, "or 
 happy!" 
 
 The joy of triumph was not so quickly banished 
 from Rosalie's face that it was not detected by the 
 vicar-general, who pretended to notice nothing. 
 
 "What can be Rosalie's share in this business?" 
 the priest asked himself. 
 
 The three returned to the salons where Monsieur 
 de Watteville made known the strange, extraor- 
 dinary, astounding intelligence of the departure of 
 the advocate, Albert Savaron de Savarus by post 
 without any explanation of the reasons of his disap- 
 pearance. At half-past eleven no more than fifteen 
 persons remained, among whom were Madame de 
 Chavoncourt and the Abbe de Godenars, another 
 vicar-general, a man of about forty who aspired to 
 be a bishop, the two Mesdemoiselles de Chavoncourt 
 and Monsieur de Vauchelles, Abbe de Grancey, 
 Rosalie, Amedee de Soulas and a former magistrate 
 who had resigned his office, one of the most influen- 
 tial personages among the aristocracy of Besanjon 
 and an earnest advocate of the election of Albert 
 Savarus.
 
 1 68 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Abbe de Grancey took his place beside the baron- 
 ess in such a way that he could look at Rosalie, 
 whose face, ordinarily pale, was flushed as by 
 fever. 
 
 "What can have happened to Monsieur de Sava- 
 rus?" said Madame de Chavoncourt. 
 
 At that moment a liveried servant brought a letter 
 upon a silver salver to Abbe de Grancey. 
 
 "Pray read it," said the baroness. 
 
 The vicar-general read the letter and saw that 
 Rosalie suddenly turned as white as her fichu. 
 
 "She recognizes the handwriting," said the 
 priest to himself after glancing at the girl over his 
 spectacles. 
 
 He folded the letter and coolly put it in his pocket 
 without saying a word. In three minutes he re- 
 ceived three glances from Rosalie which were 
 enough to enable him to guess the whole truth. 
 
 "She loves Albert de Savarus!" thought the 
 vicar-general. 
 
 He rose and Rosalie felt a sudden shock; he 
 bowed, walked toward the door, and in the second 
 salon was overtaken by Rosalie, who said to him: 
 
 "Monsieur de Grancey, it is from Albert." 
 
 "How do you know his writing well enough to 
 recognize it at such a distance?" 
 
 The girl, caught in the toils of her impatience 
 and her wrath, made a reply which the abbe thought 
 sublime. 
 
 "Because I love him! What's the matter with 
 him?" she added after a pause.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 169 
 
 "He abandons his candidacy," replied the abbe. 
 
 Rosalie placed her finger on her lips. 
 
 "I demand secrecy as if I were in the confes- 
 sional," she said before they returned to the salon. 
 "If there's to be no election, there'll be no mar- 
 riage to Sidonie!" 
 
 The next morning, on her way to mass, Rosalie 
 learned from Mariette a part of the circumstances 
 which led to Albert's disappearance at the most 
 critical moment of his life: 
 
 "Mademoiselle, yesterday morning an old gentle- 
 man arrived from Paris at the Hotel National in his 
 own carriage, a handsome carriage with four horses, 
 an outrider and a footman. Indeed, Jerome, who 
 saw the carriage drive away, declares that it 
 couldn't have been anyone but a prince or a 
 milord." 
 
 "Was there a crown ferm'ee on the carriage?" 
 Rosalie asked. 
 
 "I don't know," said Mariette. "Just as the 
 clock struck two he called on Monsieur Savarus and 
 sent up his card, and Jer6me says that when mon- 
 sieur saw it he turned white as a sheet; then he 
 said to show him in. As he himself closed the door 
 and locked it, it's impossible to find out what the 
 old gentleman and the advocate said to each other ; 
 but they remained together about an hour; after 
 that the old gentleman and the advocate sent for the 
 footman. Jer6me saw the footman come out of the 
 room with an enormous package, four feet long, that 
 looked like a great picture on canvas. The old
 
 170 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 gentleman had a big bundle of papers in his hand. 
 The advocate was paler than death and, proud and 
 dignified as he always is, he was in a pitiable state. 
 But he treated the old gentleman as respectfully 
 as he could have done if he'd been the king. 
 Jerome and Monsieur Albert Savaron accompanied 
 the old man to his carriage, which was waiting with 
 four horses all harnessed to it The outrider 
 started on the stroke of three. Monsieur went 
 straight to the prefecture and from there to Monsieur 
 Gentillet's, who sold him the late Madame Saint- 
 Vier's old traveling caleche; then he ordered post- 
 horses for six o'clock. He returned to his rooms to 
 pack his trunks, and he must have written several 
 letters; last of all he settled up his business matters 
 with Monsieur Girardet, who called on him and 
 stayed till seven. Jerome carried a line to Mon- 
 sieur Boucher's, where monsieur was expected to 
 dinner. Then, at half-past seven, he went away 
 leaving Jerome three months' wages and telling 
 him to look for a place. He left his keys with Mon- 
 sieur Girardet, after driving him home, and, as 
 Jerome says, taking a plate of soup with him, for 
 Monsieur Girardet hadn't dined at half-past seven. 
 When Monsieur Savaron returned to the carriage he 
 was like a dead man. Jerome, who naturally 
 waited to say adieu to his master, heard him say to 
 the postilion: 'The Geneva road.' " 
 
 "Did Jerome inquire the stranger's name at the 
 Hotel National?" 
 
 "As the old gentleman only stopped there in
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 17 1 
 
 passing they didn't ask him his name. The ser- 
 vant, by order no doubt, acted as if he couldn't 
 speak French." 
 
 "And what about the letter Abbe de Grancey 
 received so late?" said Rosalie. 
 
 "Monsieur Girardet must have sent it to him; 
 but Jer6me says that poor Monsieur Girardet, who 
 is very fond of Savaron, was quite as overcome as 
 he. He who comes mysteriously, goes away 
 mysteriously, Mademoiselle Galard says." 
 
 After hearing this narrative Rosalie's manner was 
 pensive and absorbed to a degree that was percep- 
 tible to everybody. It is useless to mention the 
 rumors to which Savaron's disappearance gave rise 
 in Besancon. It was known that the prefect put 
 himself out to provide him with a foreign passport 
 instantly, with the best grace in the world, for in 
 this way he got rid of his only real opponent The 
 next day Monsieur de Chavoncourt was elected on 
 the first vote, by a majority of a hundred and 
 forty. 
 
 "Jean went away as he came," said an elector 
 when he learned of Albert Savaron's flight 
 
 This event added strength to the prevailing pre- 
 judice against strangers in Besancon, which had 
 been abundantly demonstrated two years before 
 apropos of the affair of the republican newspapers. 
 Ten days passed and Albert de Savarus's name 
 ceased to be mentioned. Three persons only, 
 Girardet the solicitor, the vicar-general and Ros- 
 alie, were seriously affected by his disappearance.
 
 172 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Girardet knew that the white-haired stranger was 
 Prince Soderini, for he saw the card and told the 
 vicar-general; but Rosalie, who was much better 
 informed than they, had known for three months of 
 the death of the Duke of Argaiolo.
 
 In the month of April, 1836, no one had heard 
 aught of Albert de Savarus, nor had his name been 
 mentioned. Jer6me and Mariette were to be mar- 
 ried; but the baroness had confidentially suggested 
 to her maid to wait for Rosalie's marriage, so that 
 the two weddings might take place together. 
 
 "It is time for Rosalie to be married, " said the 
 baroness one day to Monsieur de Watteville; "she's 
 nineteen and she has changed these last few months 
 in a way to frighten one " 
 
 "1 don't know what's the matter with her," said 
 the baron. 
 
 "When fathers don't know what the matter is 
 with their daughters, mothers can sometimes guess, " 
 said the baroness; "she must be married." 
 
 "I am perfectly willing," said the baron, "and 
 for my part I'll give her the Rouxeys, now that the 
 tribunal has settled my dispute with the commune 
 of Riceys by fixing my boundary line three hundred 
 metres from the base of the Dent de Vilard. 
 They're digging a ditch there to receive all the 
 water and carry it into the lake. The commune 
 didn't appeal, so the decision is final." 
 
 "You haven't yet discovered," said the baroness, 
 
 "that that decision cost me thirty thousand francs 
 
 which I paid Chantonnit The peasant wouldn't 
 
 take any less, he gets all the credit of winning the 
 
 (173)
 
 174 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 battle for his village, and he has sold us peace. If 
 you give up the Rouxeys, you won't have anything 
 left" 
 
 "I don't need much," said the baron, "I'm near 
 the end" 
 
 "You eat like an ogre." 
 
 "That's just it: it does me no good to eat, and I 
 feel that my legs are growing weaker and weaker." 
 
 "It's your turning," said the baroness. 
 
 "I don't know," said the baron. 
 
 "We'll marry Rosalie to Monsieur de Soulas; if 
 you give her the Rouxeys, reserve the use of the 
 estate for your life; I will give them twenty-four 
 thousand a year in the funds. Our children will 
 live here and I don't see that they're much to be 
 pitied." 
 
 "No, I'll give them the Rouxeys outright. Ro- 
 salie loves the Rouxeys." 
 
 "You act strangely with your daughter! You 
 don't ask me if I love the Rouxeys?" 
 
 Rosalie, being summoned in hot haste, learned 
 that she was to marry Monsieur Amedee de Soulas 
 early in May. 
 
 "I thank you, mother, and you, father, for think- 
 ing about getting me settled, but I don't want to 
 marry; I am very happy to be with you " 
 
 "Stuff!" exclaimed the baroness, "you don't love 
 Monsieur le Comte de Soulas, that's the whole 
 story." 
 
 "If you want to know the truth, I will never 
 marry Monsieur de Soulas "
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 175 
 
 "Oh yes! the never of a girl of nineteen!" re- 
 torted the baroness smiling bitterly. 
 
 "The never of Mademoiselle de Watteville!" said 
 Rosalie with emphasis. "I don't think my father 
 has any intention of marrying me against my will ?" 
 
 "Oh! no, indeed," said the poor baron, with an 
 affectionate glance at his daughter. 
 
 "Very well," rejoined the baroness, curtly, re- 
 straining the natural wrath of a devotee amazed to 
 meet with defiance from an unexpected quarter, 
 "you can look after your daughter's establishment 
 yourself, Monsieur de Watteville ! Think well of it, 
 Rosalie; if you don't marry to suit me, you shall 
 have nothing from me toward your fortune." 
 
 The quarrel thus begun between Madame de 
 Watteville and the baron, who upheld his daughter, 
 went so far, that Rosalie and her father were obliged 
 to pass the summer at the Rouxeys; life at the De 
 Rupt mansion was unendurable. It became known 
 in Besancon that Mademoiselle de Watteville had 
 positively refused Monsieur le Comte de Soulas. 
 After their marriage Jerome and Mariette went to 
 the Rouxeys, to step into Modinier's shoes some 
 day. The baron repaired and restored the house in 
 accordance with his daughter's taste. When she 
 learned that this work of restoration cost sixty thou- 
 sand francs and that Rosalie and her father were 
 building a hothouse, the baroness became aware 
 that there was some leaven of malice in her daugh- 
 ter's nature. The baron bought several contiguous 
 fields and a small estate worth about thirty thousand
 
 176 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 francs. Madame de Watteville was told that her 
 daughter, away from her, was showing herself to be 
 an extremely capable girl ; she was making a study 
 of methods of improving the Rouxeys, she had 
 donned a riding-habit and was accustomed to ride 
 about on horseback; her father, who was very 
 happy with her, who never complained of his health 
 and was growing stout, accompanied her in her ex- 
 cursions. When the baroness's birthday drew near 
 her name was Louise the vicar-general came to 
 the Rouxeys, commissioned doubtless by Madame 
 de Watteville and Monsieur de Soulas to negotiate a 
 treaty between the mother and daughter. 
 
 "That little Rosalie has a head on her shoulders," 
 people said in Besancon. 
 
 Having nobly paid up the ninety thousand 
 francs expended at the Rouxeys, the baroness would 
 send her husband about a thousand francs a month 
 to enable him to live there ; she did not choose to 
 put herself in the wrong. The father and daughter 
 asked nothing more than to return to Besancon on 
 the fifteenth of August, to remain there until the 
 end of the month. When the vicar-general, after 
 dinner, took Rosalie aside to broach the subject of 
 her marriage, giving her to understand that she 
 must not count upon Albert, who had not been heard 
 from for a year, he was stopped short by a gesture 
 from her. The strange creature seized Monsieur de 
 Grancey's arm and led him to a bench under a 
 clump of rhododendrons, whence they could look out 
 upon the lake.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 177 
 
 "Listen, dear abbe, whom I love as dearly as my 
 father, because you are fond of my Albert, the 
 time has come when 1 must confess to you ; I have 
 committed crimes in order to be his wife, and he 
 must be my husband. Look, read this!" 
 
 She handed him a copy of the gazette which she 
 took from the pocket of her apron, and pointed to the 
 following article, dated Florence, May 25 : 
 
 " The wedding of Monsieur le Due de Rhetore*, eldest son 
 of Monsieur le Due de Chaulieu, the former ambassador, and 
 Madame la Duchesse d'Argaiolo, born Princess Soderini, was 
 celebrated with much splendor. Numerous festivities, given 
 on the occasion of this wedding, impart animation to the city 
 of Florence at the present moment. The fortune of Madame 
 la Duchesse d'Argaiolo is one of the most considerable in 
 Italy, for the late duke constituted her his sole legatee." 
 
 "The woman he loved is married," said she; "I 
 separated them!" 
 
 "You! how, in Heaven's name?" exclaimed the 
 abbe. 
 
 Rosalie was about to reply, when a loud outcry 
 from two gardeners, preceded by the sound of a 
 body falling into the water, interrupted her; she 
 rose and rushed away, crying: 
 
 "Oh! my father!" 
 
 The baron was not to be seen. 
 
 In attempting to lift a fragment of granite on 
 which he thought he could detect the impression of 
 a shell a fact that would have upset some geolog- 
 ical theory Monsieur de Watteville had ventured
 
 1 78 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 upon the sloping bank, lost his balance, and rolled 
 down into the lake, which was naturally deepest at 
 the foot of the dike. The gardeners had infinite 
 difficulty in thrusting a pole within the baron's 
 reach by feeling about in the spot where the water 
 was disturbed ; but at last they drew him out covered 
 with mud, into which he had plunged head-foremost 
 and had buried himself still deeper by struggling. 
 Monsieur de Watteville had dined heartily, his 
 digestion had begun and was interrupted. When 
 he had been undressed, washed clean and put to 
 bed, it was so evident that he was in a dangerous 
 condition that one servant was hurried on horseback 
 to Besancon, another to fetch the nearest physician 
 and surgeon. 
 
 When Madame de Watteville arrived, eight hours 
 after the accident, with the leading physician and 
 surgeon of Besancon, they found Monsieur de Watte- 
 ville in a desperate plight, notwithstanding the skil- 
 ful ministrations of the physician from Riceys. The 
 fright caused an effusion of serum in the brain and 
 the arrested digestion gave the poor baron his coup 
 de grace. 
 
 His death, which would not have taken place, 
 said the baroness, if her husband had remained at 
 Besancon, was attributed by her to her daughter's 
 obstinacy, and she conceived an aversion for her 
 while abandoning herself to sorrow and regret that 
 were evidently exaggerated. She called the baron 
 her dear lamb! The last Watteville was buried on 
 an islet in the lake at the Rouxeys, where the
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 179 
 
 baroness erected a small gothic monument in white 
 marble, like the one said to mark the grave of 
 Heloise at Pere Lachaise. 
 
 A month after this catastrophe the baroness and 
 her daughter were living in the Du Rupt mansion 
 in morose silence. Rosalie was the victim of a 
 poignant sorrow, which sought no outlet; she ac- 
 cused herself of her father's death and suspected 
 another disaster, even greater in her eyes, and 
 most certainly caused by her, for neither Girardet 
 the solicitor nor the Abbe de Grancey obtained the 
 slightest clue to Albert's fate. This silence was 
 appalling. In a paroxysm of remorse she felt that 
 she must confess to the vicar-general the ghastly 
 scheme by which she had separated Francesca from 
 Albert It was simple and horrifying. Mademoi- 
 selle de Watteville had suppressed Albert's letters 
 to the duchess and that in which Francesca told her 
 lover of her husband's illness and that she could not 
 answer his letters during the time that she must 
 devote herself, as her duty required, to the dying 
 man. Thus, during Albert's preoccupation over the 
 elections the duchess wrote him only two letters, the 
 one in which she told him of the Duke of Argaiolo's 
 dangerous condition, and that in which she told him 
 that she was a widow two noble, sublime letters 
 which Rosalie kept After several nights' work 
 Rosalie had succeeded in imitating Albert's hand- 
 writing to perfection. For that faithful lover's gen- 
 uine letters she had substituted three letters, copies 
 of which, when they were shown to the old priest,
 
 180 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 made him shudder, the genius of evil was so mani- 
 fest therein in its most perfect development 
 Rosalie, holding the pen for Albert, prepared the 
 duchess for a change of heart on the part of the 
 falsely unfaithful Frenchman. Rosalie responded to 
 the news of the Duke of Argaiolo's death with the 
 news of Albert's approaching marriage to herself, 
 Rosalie. The two letters should have crossed and 
 did actually cross each other. The infernal inge- 
 nuity with which these letters were written so 
 astounded the vicar-general that he read them a 
 second time. To the last, Francesca, wounded to 
 the heart by a girl who was seeking to destroy her 
 rival's love, made no other reply than these words: 
 "You are free, adieu." 
 
 "Purely moral crimes, which give human justice 
 nothing to lay hold upon, are the most infamous, the 
 most hateful," said Abbe de Grancey sternly. 
 "God often punishes them on earth: therein lies 
 the explanation of many frightful catastrophes 
 which seem to us inexplicable. Of all secret crimes 
 shrouded in the mystery of private life, one of the 
 most dishonoring is the crime of breaking the seal 
 of a letter or reading it surreptitiously. Any per- 
 son, whoever he may be, or by whatever motive 
 impelled, who allows himself to commit such a deed, 
 thereby inflicts an ineradicable stain upon his honor. 
 Do you realize all that there is touching, divine in 
 the story of the young page, falsely accused, who 
 was himself the bearer of a letter containing the 
 order to put him to death, who set out on his mission
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS l8l 
 
 without thought of evil, and whom Providence 
 thereupon took under its protection and saved 
 miraculously, as we say ? Do you know wherein the 
 miracle consists? Virtue has a halo as powerful as 
 that of innocent childhood. I say these things to 
 you with no purpose to reprimand you," said the 
 old priest with profound sadness. "Alas! I am not 
 acting now as one qualified to admonish and to give 
 absolution; you are not kneeling at God's feet; I 
 am a friend, dismayed by my apprehension of the 
 punishment in store for you. What has become of 
 poor Albert? has he not taken his own life? An 
 incredible violence of feeling was concealed beneath 
 his assumed tranquillity. I understand that old 
 Prince Soderini, Madame la Duchesse d'Argaiolo's 
 father, came here to demand his daughter's letters 
 and portrait That was the thunderbolt that fell 
 upon Albert's head, and he doubtless tried to go to 
 her and set himself right. But how is it that in 
 fourteen months he has made no sign?" 
 
 "Oh! if I marry him, he will be so happy " 
 
 "Happy? He doesn't love you. Nor have you 
 such a great fortune to offer him. Your mother has 
 a most profound aversion for you, you made a sav- 
 age retort to her that wounded her to the quick and 
 will ruin you." 
 
 "What was that?" said Rosalie. 
 
 "When she said to you yesterday that obedience 
 was the only way to atone for your wrong-doing, 
 and reminded you of the necessity of marrying, in 
 connection with Amedee: 'if you're so fond of him,
 
 1 82 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 marry him yourself, mother !' Did you, or did you 
 not throw that remark at her head?" 
 
 "Yes," said Rosalie. 
 
 "Very good," rejoined Monsieur de Grancey, 
 "I know her; in a few months she will beComtesse 
 de Soulas! She will have children, never fear, and 
 she will give Monsieur de Soulas forty thousand 
 francs a year; over and above that she'll provide 
 for him in her will and cut down your share in her 
 real estate as much as she can. You'll be poor as 
 long as she lives and she's only thirty-eight! Your 
 property will consist of nothing but the Rouxeys 
 estate and what little is left for you after the set- 
 tlement of your father's estate, if indeed your 
 mother agrees to waive her claim upon the 
 Rouxeys! From the standpoint of your material 
 interests, you have managed your life badly 
 enough; from the standpoint of your sentiments 1 
 think it is altogether ruined Instead of turning to 
 your mother " 
 
 Rosalie shook her head savagely. 
 
 "To your mother," repeated the vicar-general, 
 "and to your religion, which, when your heart felt 
 the first impulse, would have enlightened and ad- 
 vised and guided you, you chose to follow your own 
 path, knowing nothing of life and listening only to 
 the voice of passion." 
 
 These sensible words terrified Rosalie. 
 
 "What must I do?" she asked after a pause. 
 
 "To undo the injury you have done, I must know 
 the extent of it," said the abbe.
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 183 
 
 "Well, I will write to the only man who is likely 
 to have information concerning Albert's fate, Mon- 
 sieur Leopold Mannequin, a notary at Paris and his 
 friend from childhood." 
 
 "Write no more except to do homage to the truth, " 
 replied the vicar-general. "Entrust to me the gen- 
 uine letters and the false ones, make your confession 
 to me in detail, as to the director of your conscience, 
 asking me by what means you can expiate your 
 sins, and leaving yourself in my hands. I will see 
 But, first of all, prove the unhappy fellow's in- 
 nocence to the being of whom he made his god on 
 earth. Even after his happiness is gone forever 
 Albert will rejoice in his justification." 
 
 Rosalie promised to obey Abbe de Grancey, hoping 
 that what he was about to do would perhaps re- 
 sult in bringing Albert back to her.
 
 A short time after Rosalie's confidence, one of 
 Monsieur Leopold Mannequin's clerks came to Besan- 
 con provided with a general power of attorney from 
 Albert, and called first of all upon Monsieur Girardet 
 to request him to sell Monsieur Savaron's house. 
 The solicitor undertook the commission out of 
 friendship for the advocate. The clerk sold the fur- 
 niture, and with the proceeds was able to pay what 
 Albert owed Girardet, who, at the time of his mys- 
 terious departure, had handed him five thousand 
 francs and agreed to collect what sums were due 
 him. When Girardet asked what had become of 
 the handsome, noble-hearted wrestler in whom he 
 had become so deeply interested, the clerk replied 
 that his master alone knew, and that the notary had 
 seemed to be keenly afflicted by the contents of the 
 last letter written by Monsieur Albert de Savarus. 
 
 Upon receiving this information the vicar-general 
 wrote to Leopold. The worthy notary replied as 
 follows : 
 
 TO MONSIEUR L'ABBE* DE GRANCEY, VICAR- 
 GENERAL OF THE DIOCESE OF BESANCON. 
 
 " Paris. 
 
 " Alas ! monsieur, no man has the power to restore Albert 
 to the life of the world ; he has turned his back upon it. He 
 is a novice at the Grande-Chartreuse, near Grenoble. You 
 know better than I, who have just learned it, that every man 
 dies on the threshold of that cloister. Anticipating my visit, 
 (185)
 
 1 86 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Albert interposed the general of the Carthusians between all 
 my efforts and himself. I know that noble heart well enough 
 to know that he is the victim of an infamous plot, invisible to 
 us; but everything is at an end. Madame la Duchesse 
 d'Argaiolo, now Duchesse de Rhetore, seems to me to have 
 carried her cruelty to great lengths. At Belgirate, which 
 place she had left when Albert hurried thither, she had 'eft 
 orders intended to make him believe that she was living in 
 London. From London, Albert followed his mistress to 
 Naples, and from Naples to Rome, where she contracted her 
 engagement with the Due de Rhetore. When Albert finally 
 succeeded in meeting Madame d'Argaiolo, it was at Florence, 
 just when her wedding was taking place. Our poor friend 
 fainted in the church, and has never been able, even when he 
 was at death's door, to obtain an explanation from that 
 woman, who must have an extraordinary something in place 
 of a heart. For seven months Albert traveled about in pur- 
 suit of a barbarous creature who played a game of eluding 
 him: he knew not how or where to seize her. I saw our poor 
 friend on his way through Paris ; and if you had seen him as 
 I did you would have realized that not a word must be said to 
 him on the subject of the duchess, unless one wished to bring 
 on a paroxysm in which his reason would have been endan- 
 gered. If he had known what his crime was, he might have 
 found a way to justify himself ; but to be falsely accused of 
 having married ! What was he to do ? Albert is dead, abso- 
 lutely dead, to the world. He longed for rest ; let us hope 
 that profound silence and prayer, wherein he has taken 
 refuge, will bring him happiness in another form. If you 
 have known him, monsieur, you may well pity him and pity 
 his friends also ! 
 
 " Accept, etc." 
 
 As soon as the good vicar-general received this 
 letter he wrote to the general of the Carthusians, 
 and this was Albert Savarus's reply:
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 187 
 
 BROTHER ALBERT TO MONSIEUR L'ABBE DE 
 GRANCEY, VICAR-GENERAL OF THE DIOCESE 
 OF BESANQON. 
 
 " Grande-Chartreuse, November, 1836. 
 " I recognized your tender and ever-youthful heart, dear 
 and beloved vicar-general, in all that the reverend father, the 
 general of our order, has just read to me. You have divined 
 the only longing that remains hidden in the deepest recesses 
 of my heart, relative to the things of this world : to cause her 
 who has used me so ill to do justice to my sentiments ! But, 
 while leaving me at liberty to avail myself of your offer, the 
 general desired to know if I was sure of my calling; he had 
 the extreme kindness to tell me his thoughts when he saw 
 that I had determined to maintain absolute silence in that 
 regard. If I had yielded to the temptation to rehabilitate the 
 man of the world, the monk would have been cast out of this 
 monastery. That signal favor certainly did its work, but the 
 battle, though short, was none the less desperate and cruel. 
 Need I say more to show you that I cannot think of returning 
 to the world? Therefore, the forgiveness you seek for the 
 author of so much misery is granted freely and without any 
 thought of anger. I will pray that God may deign to forgive 
 the young woman as I forgive her, just as I will pray God to 
 grant a happy life to Madame de Rhetore. Ah ! whether it 
 be death or the persistent hand of a young girl desperately 
 bent upon winning a man's love, or whether it be one of those 
 blows which are attributed to chance, must not God be 
 always obeyed? In certain hearts misfortune creates a vast 
 desert, wherein the voice of God is heard. I have learned 
 too late the connection between this life and that which 
 awaits us, for everything about me is worn out. I should 
 not have been able to serve in the ranks of the church mili- 
 tant, so I throw myself for what remains of an almost extinct 
 life at the foot of the sanctuary. This is the last time 1 
 shall write. No other than you, who loved me and whom I
 
 I 88 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 loved so well, could have made me break the law of oblivion 
 I imposed upon myself when I entered the metropolis of 
 Saint-Bruno. You will be particularly remembered in the 
 prayers of 
 
 "BROTHER ALBERT." 
 
 "Perhaps it's all for the best," said Abbe de 
 Grancey to himself. 
 
 When he had shown this letter to Rosalie, who 
 piously kissed the passage containing her pardon, 
 he said to her : 
 
 "Well, now that he is lost to you, won't you 
 make peace with your mother by marrying the 
 Comte de Soulas?" 
 
 "Albert must order me to do it," she replied. 
 
 "You see that it's impossible to consult him. 
 The general wouldn't allow it." 
 
 "Suppose 1 were to go and see him?" 
 
 "The Carthusians don't receive visitors. Be- 
 sides, no woman, except the Queen of France, can 
 enter the Chartreuse," said the abbe. "So there's 
 nothing now to prevent you marrying young Mon- 
 sieur de Soulas." 
 
 "I don't want to make my mother unhappy," 
 Rosalie retorted. 
 
 "Satan!" cried the vicar-general. 
 
 Toward the close of that winter the excellent 
 Abbe de Grancey died. That faithful friend was 
 no longer at hand to stand between Madame de 
 Watteville and her daughter, those two iron wills. 
 The event predicted by the vicar-general came to
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 189 
 
 pass. In August, 1837, Madame de Watteville mar- 
 ried Monsieur de Soulas at Paris, whither she went 
 on the advice of Rosalie, who was kind and lovely 
 to her mother. Madame de Watteville believed in 
 her daughter's affection; but Rosalie simply wished 
 to visit Paris in order to indulge in the pleasure of 
 an atrocious vengeance : she thought of nothing but 
 avenging Savarus by making a martyr of her rival. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Watteville had been emanci- 
 pated; indeed she would soon have completed her 
 twenty-first year. Her mother, to settle accounts 
 with her, had abandoned her claim upon the 
 Rouxeys, and the daughter had given her mother a 
 release of all claim to the Baron de Watteville's 
 estate. Rosalie had encouraged her mother to 
 marry the Comte de Soulas and to provide liberally 
 for him. 
 
 "Let us both be free," she said to her. 
 
 Madame de Soulas, feeling some uneasiness as to 
 her daughter's intentions, was amazed at this noble 
 conduct; she presented Rosalie with six thousand 
 francs a year in the funds to quiet her conscience. 
 As Madame la Comtesse de Soulas had forty-eight 
 thousand a year in real estate, from land, and was 
 powerless to alienate any part of it with a view of 
 diminishing Rosalie's share, Mademoiselle de Watte- 
 ville was still an heiress to the extent of eighteen 
 hundred thousand francs : with some improvements 
 the Rouxeys might be made to produce twenty 
 thousand francs a year besides the value of the 
 dwelling house, the rents and its appurtenances.
 
 190 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 Thus Rosalie and her mother, who readily adopted 
 the manners and fashions of Paris, were soon intro- 
 duced into the best circles. 
 
 The golden key the words: eighteen hundred 
 thousand francs ! embroidered upon Rosalie's cor- 
 sage, served the Comtesse de Soulas much better 
 than her airs a la De Rupt, her misplaced pride, or 
 even her somewhat far-fetched genealogies. 
 
 About the month of February, 1838, Rosalie, to 
 whom many young men were assiduously paying 
 court, executed the project that brought her to 
 Paris. She desired to meet the Duchesse de Rhetore, 
 to see that marvelous woman and to plunge her into 
 everlasting remorse. So Rosalie's achievements 
 in self-adornment and coquetry, in her endeavor to 
 place herself upon a footing of equality with the 
 duchess, were simply bewildering. The first meet- 
 ing took place at the ball given annually since 1830 
 for the pensioners of the old Civil List 
 
 A young man, incited by Rosalie, said to the 
 duchess, pointing to her as he spoke: 
 
 "There's a most remarkable young woman, a 
 clever creature! She drove a man of very great 
 talent, Albert de Savarus, whose whole life was 
 ruined by her, into a convent, the Grande-Char- 
 treuse. That's Mademoiselle de Watteville, the 
 famous heiress of Besancon." 
 
 The duchess turned pale; Rosalie exchanged with 
 her one of those glances which, from woman to 
 woman, are more deadly than pistol shots in a duel. 
 Francesca Soderini, who had a suspicion that Albert
 
 ALBERT SAVARUS 19! 
 
 was innocent, immediately left the ball room, turn- 
 ing her back abruptly upon her interlocutor, who 
 had no means of guessing the terrible wound he 
 had inflicted on the lovely Duchesse de Rhetore. 
 
 " If you wish to know more about Albert, come to the 
 Opera ball next Tuesday, and carry a marigold in your 
 hand." 
 
 This anonymous note, sent by Rosalie to the 
 duchess, lured the unhappy Italian to the ball, 
 where Rosalie placed in her hand all Albert's letters, 
 the one written by the vicar-general to Leopold 
 Mannequin, with the notary's reply, and that in 
 which she made her confession to Monsieur de 
 Grancey. 
 
 "I didn't want to be the only one to suffer, for 
 we have been equally cruel!" she said to her rival. 
 
 Having enjoyed to the full the stupefaction de- 
 picted upon the duchess's beautiful face, Rosalie 
 made her escape ; she appeared no more in society, 
 but returned with her mother to Besancon. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Watteville, who lives alone on 
 her estate, the Rouxeys, riding, hunting, refusing 
 her two or three offers a year, coming to Besancon 
 four or five times during the winter, intent upon 
 developing her estate, is looked upon as an ex- 
 tremely original person. She is one of the celebri- 
 ties of the East. 
 
 Madame de Soulas has two children, a boy and a 
 girl ; she has grown younger, but young Monsieur 
 de Soulas has aged considerably.
 
 IQ2 ALBERT SAVARUS 
 
 "My fortune costs me dear," he said to young 
 Chavoncourt. "To know a devotee thoroughly, one 
 must be unlucky enough to marry her." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Watteville behaves like a most 
 extraordinary young woman. People say of her: 
 She is crotchety. She goes every year to look at the 
 walls of the Grande-Chartreuse. Perhaps she pro- 
 poses to imitate her grand-uncle by climbing the 
 wall of the convent to seek her husband, as Watte- 
 ville climbed the wall of his monastery to recover 
 his liberty. 
 
 In 1841 she left Besaneon, intending, so it was 
 said, to marry ; but no one knows the real motive of 
 that journey, from which she returned in a plight 
 that made it impossible for her ever to reappear in 
 society. By one of those strokes of chance to 
 which the old Abbe de Grancey alluded, she hap- 
 pened to be upon the Loire in a steamboat whose 
 boiler exploded. Mademoiselle de Watteville was 
 so cruelly injured, that she lost her right arm and 
 her left leg; her face bears terrible scars which have 
 robbed it of its beauty; her health, subjected to a 
 horrible shock, leaves her but few days without 
 suffering. In fact, to-day she never goes outside her 
 country-house at the Rouxeys, where she leads a 
 life entirely given over to religious observances. 
 
 Paris, May, 1842.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 13 (193)
 
 a***,
 
 MADEMOISELLE FLORINE 
 
 At tliree o'clock in the morning, Florine was 
 able to undress and go to bed as if she were alone, 
 although no one had gone away. All these lights 
 of the age were sleeping like beasts. When the 
 packers and porters and draymen arrived, early in 
 the morning, to remove all the famous actress's 
 magnificence, she laughed heartily as she saw them 
 lift up these celebrities like heavy pieces of furniture 
 and deposit them on the floor. Thus all the lovely 
 things vanished.
 
 TO MADAME LA COMTESSE BOLOGNINI, 
 NEE VlMERCATl 
 
 If you remember, madame, the pleasure your 
 conversation afforded a certain traveler by remind- 
 ing him of Paris at Milan, you will not be surprised 
 to find him testifying his gratitude for the many 
 pleasant evenings passed in your company, by laying 
 one of his books at your feet, and soliciting for it the 
 protection of your name a name which heretofore 
 protected several tales of one of your old authors, dear 
 to the hearts of the Milanese. You have an Eugenie, 
 beautiful even now, whose thoughtful smile assures 
 us that she will inherit from you the most precious 
 gifts of woman, and will assuredly enjoy in her 
 childhood all the delights which a sad-visaged mother 
 refused to the Eugenie who figures in this story. 
 You see that, even though the French are accused 
 of fickleness and forgetful ness, I am a true Italian 
 in constancy and faithful memory. As I wrote the 
 name of Eugenie my thoughts often carried me back 
 to the freshly stuccoed salon and the little garden, 
 at the Vicolo dei Capuccini, which heard the dear 
 child's joyous laughter and our quarrels and our 
 anecdotes. You have left the Corso for the Tre 
 Monasteri; I have no idea how you are situated 
 (i95)
 
 196 DEDICATION 
 
 there and I am compelled to think of you, no longer 
 amid the lovely things which doubtless still surround 
 you there, but as one of the lovely figures conceived 
 by Carlo Dolci, Raphael, Titian or Allori, which 
 seem like mere abstractions, they are so far removed 
 from us. 
 
 If this book succeed in passing across the Alps, 
 it will bear witness to the lively gratitude and 
 respectful friendship of 
 
 Your humble servant, 
 
 DE BALZAC.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 * 
 
 In one of the finest houses on Rue Neuve-des- 
 Mathurins, at half-past eleven in the evening, two 
 women were sitting in front of the fire in a boudoir 
 hung with blue velvet of soft, changing hues, such 
 as French manufacturers have only of late years 
 learned to make. At the doors and windows one of 
 those upholsterers who are at the same time true 
 artists, had draped soft clinging cashmere curtains 
 of the same shade of blue as the hangings on the 
 wall. A silver lamp, studded with turquoises, was 
 suspended from a lovely piece of rose-work in the 
 centre of the ceiling by three chains of beautiful 
 workmanship. The decorative scheme was ex- 
 tended to the smallest details; even the ceiling 
 itself was of blue silk with white cashmere stars, 
 and from it long bands of white cashmere fell in 
 graceful folds upon the wall at equal intervals, held 
 in place by knots of pearls. The feet met the warm 
 texture of a Brussels carpet, thick and soft as turf, 
 and with bunches of blue flowers strewn upon a 
 gray ground. The furniture was of carved violet- 
 wood, after the finest designs of the olden time, and 
 its rich, warm tones relieved the lack of character 
 (i97)
 
 198 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 in the decoration, which a painter would have 
 called a little too flat. The backs of the chairs and 
 couches were like thin sheets of a beautiful white 
 silk material with raised blue flowers, boldly framed 
 by foliage artistically carved in the wood. On 
 either side of the window a cabinet displayed its 
 thousand and one priceless trifles, the flowers of the 
 mechanical arts blossoming under the burning rays 
 of thought. Upon the mantel of dark blue marble 
 the wildest creations in Saxon porcelain, shepherds 
 on their way to never-ending wedding-feasts with 
 delicate nosegays in their hands Chinese ideas 
 executed in Germany surrounded a platinum clock 
 inlaid with arabesques. Above gleamed the beveled 
 edges of a Venetian mirror, in an ebony frame laden 
 with figures in bas-relief, a relic of some old royal 
 residence. Two jardinieres displayed the sickly 
 splendor of the hothouse, pale-hued and divinely 
 beautiful flowers, the pearls of the botanist's art 
 In this cold, orderly boudoir, as neat and clean as 
 if it had been for sale, you would have looked in 
 vain for the capricious, roguish disorder which 
 speaks of happiness. Everything there was in 
 harmony, for the two women were weeping. Every- 
 thing in the room seemed to be in agony. 
 
 The name of the proprietor, Ferdinand du Tillet, 
 one of the wealthiest bankers in Paris, is a sufficient 
 justification for the immoderate extravagance notice- 
 able in this mansion, of which the boudoir we have 
 described may serve as an illustration. Although 
 without family, although a self-made man God
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 199 
 
 knows how! Du Tillet had married in 1831 the 
 youngest daughter of the Comte de Granville, one 
 of the most illustrious names in the French magis- 
 tracy, who became a peer of France after the Rev- 
 olution of July. This marriage of ambition was 
 purchased by the bridegroom's acknowledging in 
 the contract the receipt of a marriage-portion he did 
 not obtain, as large as that of the bride's older 
 sister, who was married to Comte Felix de Vande- 
 nesse. Now, the Granvilles had brought about the 
 alliance with the Vandenesse family solely by the 
 immensity of the marriage-portion. Thus the bank 
 repaired the breach made in the magistracy by the 
 nobility. If the Comte de Vandenesse could have 
 looked forward three years and seen himself the 
 brother-in-law of one Ferdinand, called Du Tillet, 
 he might not have married his wife perhaps; but 
 who could have foreseen, in the latter part of 1828, 
 the extraordinary overturn in the political condi- 
 tion, the fortunes and the moral state of France that 
 the year 1830 was destined to bring about ? That 
 man would have been deemed insane who should 
 have told Comte Felix de Vandenesse that in that 
 transformation scene he would lose his peer's cor- 
 onet only to find it again upon his father-in-law's 
 head. 
 
 Seated upon one of the low chairs called chaujffeuses, 
 in the attitude of one listening attentively, Madame 
 du Tillet was holding her sister, Madame Felix de 
 Vandenesse, close to her heart, and from time to 
 time kissing her hand. In society the baptismal
 
 200 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 name was added to the family name in order to 
 distinguish the countess from her sister-in-law, the 
 marchioness, wife of the one-time ambassador, 
 Charles de Vandenesse, who had married the 
 wealthy widow of the Comte de Kergarouet, a 
 Mademoiselle de Fontaine. Half-lying upon a small 
 sofa, with a handkerchief in her disengaged hand, 
 her breathing broken by repressed sobs and her 
 eyes swimming with tears, the countess had been 
 confiding to her sister such things as are confided 
 only by one sister to another when they love each 
 other; and these two sisters did love each other 
 dearly. We live in a time when it would be so 
 common an occurrence for two sisters thus strangely 
 married not to love each other, that an historian is 
 bound to set forth the reasons of their affection, 
 which had endured without break or impairment 
 notwithstanding the mutual contempt of their hus- 
 bands for each other and constant family discord. 
 A rapid glance at their early years will make clear 
 their respective positions. 
 
 Brought up in a gloomy mansion in the Marais 
 by a devout woman of limited intellectual powers, 
 who, being impregnated with her duties the classic 
 phrase had fulfilled the first obligation of a mother 
 to her daughters Marie-Angelique and Marie- 
 Eugenie entered the married state the former at 
 twenty years, the second at seventeen without 
 having ever emerged from the domestic circle where 
 the maternal glance hovered over them. Up to that 
 time they had never been to the play ; the churches
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 2OI 
 
 of Paris were their theatres. In short, their bring- 
 ing up under their mother's roof had been as stern as 
 it could have been in a convent From the time 
 they were old enough to think they slept always in 
 a room adjoining the Comtesse de Granville's, and 
 the door was left open all night The time which 
 was not devoted to the care of their persons, to 
 religious duties or the studies indispensable to the 
 education of well-born maidens, was passed in 
 working with their needles for the poor, or in walks 
 abroad like those which the English allow them- 
 selves to indulge in on Sundays, saying, "Let's not 
 walk so fast, or we shall look as if we were enjoy- 
 ing ourselves." Their education did not go beyond 
 the limits imposed by confessors who were selected 
 from among the most intolerant and most Jansenist 
 churchmen. Never were purer or more chaste 
 maidens given over to a husband's keeping; their 
 mother seemed to have looked upon this point, 
 which is certainly most essential, as the fulfilment 
 of her whole duty to God and man. The two poor 
 creatures had never read a novel before marriage, 
 nor had they drawn anything save figures whose 
 anatomy would have seemed to Cuvier the culmina- 
 tion of the impossible, engraved in a way to make 
 the Farnese Hercules himself turn woman. An old 
 maid taught them to draw. A venerable priest 
 instructed them in grammar, the French language, 
 history, geography and the little arithmetic neces- 
 sary for women to know. Their reading, all from 
 books sanctioned by the church, like the Lettres
 
 202 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 Edifiantes and Noel's Lemons de Litterature, was done 
 aloud in the evening, always in the presence of 
 their mother's spiritual director, for it was pos- 
 sible that they might fall in with passages which, 
 without judicious comments, would arouse their 
 imagination. Fenelon's Tel'emaque was considered 
 a dangerous work. The Comtesse de Granville 
 loved her daughters enough to long to make them 
 angels after the style of Marie Alacoque; but her 
 daughters would have preferred a less virtuous and 
 more amiable mother. 
 
 This education bore its natural fruit. Reli- 
 gion imposed as a yoke and presented in its 
 most austere form, tired out with its everlasting 
 ceremonial these innocent young hearts, who were 
 treated as if they were criminals; it repressed 
 their feelings, and although it took deep root it 
 was not loved. The two Maries were certain 
 either to become imbeciles or to long for freedom ; 
 they would long to be married as soon as they could 
 catch a glimpse of the world, and compare others' 
 ideas with their own; but their own touching 
 charms and their own priceless worth, of these they 
 knew naught They knew not their own purity, 
 and what could they have known of life? Without 
 arms against misfortune, as they were without ex- 
 perience to enable them to appreciate good fortune, 
 they had no other source of consolation than them- 
 selves in the depths of their maternal prison. Their 
 whispered confidences in the evening, or the few 
 words they exchanged when their mother left them
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 203 
 
 for a moment, sometimes contained more ideas than 
 the words could give expression to. Often a 
 glance, seen by no other eye, whereby they com- 
 municated their emotions to each other, was like a 
 poem of bitter melancholy. The sight of the cloud- 
 less sky, the sweet odor of the flowers, the circuit 
 of the garden arm in arm, afforded them unspeak- 
 able delight The completion of a piece of em- 
 broidery was a source of innocent joy. Their 
 mother's social circle, far from offering their hearts 
 any resource or stimulating their minds, had no 
 other effect than to cast a shadow upon their thoughts 
 and impart a tinge of sadness to their emotions : for 
 it was composed of narrow, strait-laced, dull old 
 women, whose conversation turned upon the points 
 of difference between preachers and confessors, 
 upon their petty illnesses and upon religious in- 
 cidents of too trifling importance for the Quotidienne 
 even, or the Ami de la Religion. As for the men, 
 their faces were so cold and wore such sad and 
 resigned expressions, that they would have extin- 
 guished the torches of love ; they were all of the age 
 when a man is disappointed and sour, when his 
 feelings have ceased to act except at the table, and 
 are concerned only with those things which affect 
 his physical well-being. Religious selfishness had 
 withered all these hearts, consecrated to duty and 
 entrenched behind church ceremonial. Silent games 
 at cards engrossed their attention most of the even- 
 ing. The two little maids, put under the ban, as it 
 were, by this Sanhedrim which upheld the maternal
 
 204 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 austerity, surprised themselves by hating these de- 
 pressing individuals with the sunken eyes and for- 
 bidding faces. Against the dark shadows of this 
 life of theirs the face of one man stood out in bold 
 relief, and that one a music-master. The confessors 
 had decided that music was a Christian art, born in 
 the Catholic Church and by it developed. The two 
 little girls were permitted therefore to learn music. 
 A spectacled maiden who taught vocal scales and 
 the piano at a neighboring convent wore them out 
 with exercises. But when the older of his daughters 
 reached the age of ten, the Comte de Granville 
 suggested the propriety of her taking a master. 
 Madame de Granville claimed all the credit of an 
 act of wifely obedience for this necessary concession ; 
 it is a peculiarity of devotees that they make a vir- 
 tue of duties accomplished. The master was a 
 German Catholic, one of those men, born old, who 
 will never be more than fifty, even when they are 
 eighty. His dark, furrowed, wrinkled face still 
 retained a trace of childish innocence in its black 
 depths. The deep blue of purity gave life to his 
 eyes and the joyous smile of the springtime dwelt 
 upon his life. His old gray hair, falling naturally 
 like Jesus Christ's, gave to his ecstatic expression 
 an indescribable touch of solemnity, which led 
 people astray as to his character ; he would have 
 done the most idiotic thing with the most exemplary 
 gravity. His habits were a necessary envelope to 
 which he paid no attention, for his eyes were too 
 high up among the clouds ever to descend to material
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 205 
 
 affairs. So this great, unknown artist may be said 
 to have belonged to the amiable race of forgetful 
 men, who give their time and their talents to others 
 just as they leave their gloves upon every table and 
 their umbrellas at every door. His hands were of 
 the sort that look dirty immediately after they have 
 been washed. In fine, his old body, which was 
 awkwardly perched upon his old, rickety legs, and 
 proved how far a man can make it the accessory of 
 his mind, was one of those extraordinary creations 
 which have never been painted save by a German, 
 by Hoffmann, the poet of that which seems not to 
 exist and yet has life. 
 
 Such was Schmucke, once precentor to the Margrave 
 of Anspach, a scholar who underwent an examina- 
 tion at the hands of a religious council, and was asked 
 if he fasted. The master would have liked to answer, 
 "Just look at me!" but how could he trifle with de- 
 votees and Jansenist shepherds ? The apocryphal old 
 fellow occupied so great a place in the lives of the two 
 Maries, and they became so attached to the pure- 
 minded and great artist who was content to under- 
 stand his art, that each of them, after her marriage, 
 gave him an annuity of three hundred francs a year, 
 which was enough to pay for his lodgings, his beer, 
 his pipe and his clothing. Six hundred francs a 
 year beside his lessons, made the earth an Eden to 
 him. Schmucke had never had the courage to con- 
 fide his poverty and his aspirations to anybody save 
 these two adorable maidens, these hearts which 
 had blossomed under the snow of maternal severity
 
 206 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 and the ice of enforced piety. This fact explains 
 Schmucke's life and the childhood of the two Maries. 
 Later, none could say what abbe, what old devotee 
 discovered the German astray in Paris. As soon 
 as the mothers of families learned that the Comtesse 
 de Granville had found a music-master for her 
 daughters, they all asked for his name and address. 
 Schmucke had thirty houses at which he gave 
 lessons in the Marais. His tardy success was made 
 manifest by shoes with bronzed steel buckles and 
 horsehair soles, and by more frequent renewal of 
 his linen. His artless gaiety, long repressed by 
 noble and self-respecting poverty, reappeared. He 
 allowed such bright little remarks as this to escape 
 him: "Mesdemoiselles, the cats ate up the mud in 
 Paris last night," when the frost had dried up the 
 muddy streets over night; but he would say it in 
 German patois, like this: " Montemisselles, %e cads 
 haf eaden up %e mud la%d nide een Bans!" Well 
 content to lay at the feet of the two angels this 
 forget-me-not, so to speak, culled from among the 
 flowers of his intellect, he would assume as he 
 offered it, a clever, knowing air which disarmed 
 raillery. He was so happy to make the lips of 
 his pupils open with a smile for the secret of 
 their wretched lives had been fathomed by him 
 that he would have made himself ridiculous for 
 that express purpose, had he not been naturally 
 so; but his heart would have given new life to 
 the tritest commonplaces; to adopt a happy ex- 
 pression of the lamented Saint-Martin he would
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 207 
 
 have made the mire golden with his heavenly 
 smile. 
 
 In accordance with one of the most praiseworthy 
 precepts of a religious education the two Maries 
 always respectfully escorted their master to the door 
 of their apartments. There the poor girls would say 
 a few kindly words, happy in their ability to make 
 him happy; they could show themselves as women 
 to none but him ! So it was that, up to the time of 
 their marriage, music was to them a life within a 
 life, just as the Russian peasant, so it is said, takes 
 his dreams for reality, his life for a bad dream. In 
 their desire to defend themselves against the multi- 
 tude of paltry things that threatened to swallow up 
 their lives, against the all-consuming ascetic ideas, 
 they recklessly attacked the difficulties of the 
 musical art Melody, harmony, composition, the 
 three daughters of heaven whose chorus was led by 
 the old music-drunken Catholic faun, rewarded 
 them for their labors and formed a rampart with 
 their ethereal dances. Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, 
 Paesiello, Cimarosa, Hummel and the geniuses of 
 the second order developed in them a thousand 
 sentiments which did not overstep the chaste circle 
 of their veiled hearts, but which made their way 
 into the creative sphere where they flew about with 
 wings outspread. When they had performed some 
 little thing almost perfectly, they would press each 
 other's hands and kiss each other ecstatically, and 
 their old master would call them his Saint Cecilias. 
 
 The two Maries never attended a ball until they
 
 208 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 were sixteen, and then only four times a year, at 
 some few carefully selected houses. They did not 
 leave their mother's side without being well pro- 
 vided with instructions as to the line of conduct 
 they were to adopt toward their partners, and such 
 strict instructions too that they could answer naught 
 but yes or no. The countess never took her eye off 
 her daughters, and that eye seemed to divine the 
 words they spoke simply by the movement of their 
 lips. The poor children had ball-dresses against 
 which nothing could be said muslin gowns high in 
 the neck, with an infinitude of excessively full 
 ruches and flounces and long sleeves. This cos- 
 tume, by holding in leash their charms and their 
 hidden beauties gave them a sort of vague resem- 
 blance to an Egyptian scabbard; nevertheless two 
 faces, lovely in their melancholy, emerged from 
 these two masses of cotton. They were furious 
 to find themselves the objects of kindly com- 
 passion. What woman ever lived, however in- 
 nocent, who did not desire to arouse envy? No 
 perilous or unhealthy or even equivocal thought 
 ever stained the gray matter of their brains ; their 
 hearts were pure, their hands were horribly red, 
 they were bursting with health. Eve came not 
 forth from God's hands more guileless than were 
 these maidens when they went forth from the 
 maternal roof to the mayor's office and the church, 
 with the simple but awe-inspiring command to ren- 
 der obedience in every point to the men, at whose 
 sides they were thenceforth, sleeping or waking, to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 2OQ 
 
 pass their nights. In their opinion they could be 
 no worse off in the strange households to which they 
 were to be deported than in the maternal convent. 
 
 Why was it that the father of these girls, the 
 Comte de Granville, great and learned and upright 
 magistrate that he was, although sometimes carried 
 rather far by politics, did not protect the poor little 
 creatures from this crushing despotism? Alas! by 
 virtue of a noteworthy bargain, agreed to after ten 
 years of married life, the husband and wife lived 
 separate lives in their own house. The father had 
 stipulated that he should himself look to his sons' 
 education, leaving to his wife the education of his 
 daughters. In his eyes the application of this op- 
 pressive system was fraught with much less danger 
 for girls than for boys. The two Maries, who were 
 destined to undergo tyranny in some form, either of 
 love or of marriage, would lose less thereby than 
 boys, whose minds should be left free, and whose 
 mental qualities would be impaired under the violent 
 compression of religious ideas carried to extremes. 
 Of four possible victims the count had saved two. 
 The countess looked upon her two sons one of 
 whom was destined for a life judgeship, the other 
 for a seat among the magistrates of uncertain tenure 
 as having been too badly brought up to be ad- 
 mitted to the slightest intimacy with their sisters. 
 A rigorous surveillance was maintained over all 
 communication between the poor children. More- 
 over, when the count took his sons from college, he 
 was very careful not to keep them at home. The 
 14
 
 210 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 two boys came there to breakfast with their mother 
 and sisters; after that the magistrate provided 
 entertainment for them away from the house; the 
 cafe, the theatre, the museum, or excursions in the 
 country in the season, supplied their diversions. 
 Except upon solemn days in the family calendar, 
 such as the countess's birthday or the count's New 
 Year's day, or the days on which prizes were distrib- 
 uted, when the boys remained at the house and 
 slept there excessively bored, by the way, and 
 afraid to kiss their sisters, they were so closely 
 watched by their mother, who never left them to- 
 gether an instant the poor girls saw their brothers 
 so rarely that it was impossible that there should 
 be any bond between them. On those days such 
 questions as: "Where's Angelique?" "What's 
 Eugenie doing?" "Where are my children?" were 
 heard at every turn. When her two sons were 
 mentioned the countess would raise her cold tear- 
 bedewed eyes to Heaven as if to implore God's for- 
 giveness for not having wrested them from the 
 grasp of impiety. Her exclamations, her reticence 
 in regard to them were as full of meaning as the 
 most mournful verses of Jeremiah, and deceived the 
 sisters, who believed their brothers to be utterly 
 perverse and damned forever. 
 
 When his sons were eighteen years old the count 
 gave them each a room in his own suite, and started 
 them on the study of the law, placing them in the 
 charge of an advocate, his secretary, who was 
 instructed to initiate them in the secrets of their
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 211 
 
 future. Thus the two Maries knew nothing of 
 fraternity save in the abstract At the time of their 
 respective marriages their brothers were- both kept 
 away by important cases, the one being then avocat- 
 general in some distant jurisdiction and the other 
 just beginning practice in the provinces. Many 
 families whose home life one might imagine to be 
 friendly, affectionate, coherent, really live like this : 
 the brothers are away from home, intent upon ad- 
 vancement and money-making, or enlisted in the 
 service of their country ; the sisters are enveloped 
 in a whirl of family interests, entirely distinct from 
 theirs. And so all the members of the family are 
 disunited and soon forget one another, and are bound 
 together only by the feeble ties of memory until the 
 time comes when pride or self-interest brings them 
 together, or, it may be, severs them in spirit as 
 they have heretofore been separated in body. A 
 family united in body and spirit alike is a rare ex- 
 ception. Modern laws, multiplying the family by 
 the family, have created the most horrible of all 
 plagues individualism. 
 
 In the profound solitude in which their youth 
 was passed, Angelique and Eugenie rarely saw their 
 father; and when he did appear in the spacious 
 suite occupied by his wife on the ground-floor of the 
 house, he brought a depressing countenance thither. 
 In his home he retained the grave and solemn ex- 
 pression of the magistrate on the bench. When the 
 little girls had passed the age of dolls and play- 
 things, when they were beginning to use their
 
 212 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 reason and had already ceased to laugh at old 
 Schmucke that is to say, when they were about 
 twelve years old they discovered the secret of the 
 anxiety which caused the furrows on the count's 
 brow, and detected beneath his mask of sternness the 
 traces of a kindly disposition and a charming char- 
 acter. They came to understand that he had given 
 way to the inroads of religion in his household be- 
 cause he was disappointed in his hopes as a hus- 
 band, just as he had been wounded in the most 
 sensitive fibres of the paternal heart, a father's love 
 for his daughters. Such sorrow produces a singu- 
 larly deep impression upon young girls who are 
 deprived of the joys of tenderness. Sometimes as 
 they were walking about the garden together at 
 their childish gait, each with an arm around the 
 other's slender waist, their father would stop them 
 under a clump of trees and kiss their foreheads one 
 after the other. His eyes, his mouth, his whole 
 countenance expressed at such moments the most 
 profound compassion. 
 
 "You aren't very happy, my dear little girls," 
 he would say; "but I'll find husbands for you in 
 good season, and I shall be very glad to see you 
 leave the house." 
 
 "Papa," Eugenie would say, "we have made up 
 our minds to marry the first man that comes along." 
 
 "And this is the bitter fruit of such a system as 
 hers!" he would cry. "She tries to make saints, 
 and turns out " 
 
 He never finished the sentence. Often the girls
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 213 
 
 were conscious of most affectionate warmth in their 
 father's manner of bidding them adieu, and in his 
 glances when it so happened that he dined at home. 
 They pitied this father of theirs whom they saw so 
 rarely, and we love those whom we pity. 
 
 The austere religious education we have described 
 was the moving cause of the marriages of the two 
 sisters, who were welded together by unhappiness 
 as closely as Rita-Christina by nature. Many men, 
 forced by circumstances to think of marriage, prefer 
 a girl taken from the convent and saturated with 
 religion to one reared upon worldly principles. 
 There is no middle course. A man must marry an 
 up-to-date damsel who has read and digested the 
 newspapers, who has waltzed and danced the galop 
 with innumerable young men, who has been to all the 
 plays, who has devoured all the latest novels, who 
 has had her knees bruised by a dancing-master 
 leaning his against them, who cares but little for 
 religion and has prepared her own code of morals; 
 or else a pure and untutored maiden like Marie- 
 Angelique and Marie-Eugenie. Perhaps there is as 
 much risk with one as with the other. However, 
 the vast majority of men who are not as old as 
 Arnolphe much prefer a pious Agnes to a Celimenes 
 in embryo. 
 
 The two Maries were both short and slender; 
 they had the same figure, the same foot, the same 
 hand. Eugenie, the younger, was fair like her 
 mother. Angel ique was dark like her father, and 
 yet both had the same complexion ; their skin was
 
 214 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 of that mother-of-pearl whiteness which proclaims 
 the richness and purity of the blood, with veins of 
 color standing clearly out upon flesh as firm of tissue 
 as the jasmine, and like it finely marked and smooth 
 and soft to the touch. Eugenie's blue eyes and 
 Angel ique's brown eyes had the same expression of 
 guileless temerity, of unaffected wonder, mainly 
 due to the vague way in which the pupil floated on 
 the white fluid of the eye. They were well-shaped ; 
 their shoulders were a trifle thin, but would fill out 
 in due time. Their throats, so long veiled, dazzled 
 the eye by their perfect loveliness when their hus- 
 bands besought them to don low-necked dresses for 
 their first ball; the two ignorant creatures there- 
 upon experienced the fascinating sense of shame 
 which kept them blushing for a whole evening be- 
 hind closed doors. At the time when this scene 
 opens, when the older sister was weeping and seek- 
 ing consolation from her junior, their hands and 
 arms had become as white as milk. Each of them 
 had nursed a child, one a boy, the other a girl. 
 Eugenie had seemed to her mother to be very sly, 
 and she had redoubled her watchfulness and harsh- 
 ness in her regard. In that dreaded mother's eyes, 
 the proud and stately Angel ique seemed to possess 
 a lofty mind which would be its own safeguard, 
 while the roguish Eugenie required to be held in 
 check. There are in the world lovely creatures, 
 misunderstood by destiny, who ought to succeed in 
 everything they undertake, but who live and die 
 unhappy, tormented by an evil genius, victims of
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 21$ 
 
 unforeseen circumstances. Thus the innocent, 
 light-hearted Eugenie had fallen under the malicious 
 despotism of a parvenu upon emerging from the 
 maternal prison. Angelique, who was inclined to 
 lofty conflicts of sentiment, had been tossed into the 
 most exalted spheres of Parisian society with a 
 halter about her neck.

 
 MME. DU TILLET AND MME. DE 
 VANDENESSE 
 
 Amid such luxurious surroundings, zvas it not 
 horrible? The countess could not summon courage 
 to speak. 
 
 "Poor darling" said Madame du Tillet, " what a 
 false idea you must have of my marriage to have 
 thought of coming to me for help ! "
 
 Madame de Vandenesse, who was evidently giving 
 way under the burden of a grief that was too heavy 
 for her heart to bear, innocent as it still was after 
 six years of married life, was partly reclining, her 
 legs half drawn up, her body bent double and her 
 head wandering from side to side, as if it had lost 
 its way, upon the back of the sofa. She had 
 hastened to her sister's house after a brief appear- 
 ance at the Italiens, and still had a few flowers in 
 her hair, but others were scattered about on the 
 floor with her gloves, her fur-lined silk pelisse, her 
 muff and her hood. Tears glistened among the 
 pearls on her white breast, and her moist eyes be- 
 tokened extraordinary disclosures. Amid such 
 luxurious surroundings, was it not horrible? The 
 countess could not summon courage to speak. 
 
 "Poor darling," said Madame du Tillet, "what a 
 false idea you must have of my marriage to have 
 thought of coming to me for help!" 
 
 As she listened to these words torn from the 
 lowest depths of her sister's heart by the fury of the 
 storm she had poured into it, just as the snow- 
 avalanche uproots the stones that are most firmly 
 fixed in the torrent's bed, the countess gazed stupidly 
 at the banker's wife, the fire of terror dried her tears 
 and her eyes no longer wandered. 
 (217)
 
 218 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "Do you mean that you are in purgatory, too, my 
 angel?" she said in a low voice. 
 
 "My woes will not allay your suffering." 
 
 "Tell me them, dear' child. I am not selfish 
 enough yet to refuse to listen to you! So we are 
 still suffering together as in our youth?" 
 
 "But we are suffering apart, " replied the banker's 
 wife in a melancholy tone. "We live in two hostile 
 societies. I go to the Tuileries while you have 
 ceased to go there. Our husbands belong to two 
 opposite parties. 1 am the wife of an ambitious 
 banker, a bad man, my precious treasure ; you are 
 the wife of a kind, noble, generous creature " 
 
 "Oh! don't reproach me," said the countess. 
 "To do that a woman must have undergone the 
 deathly weariness of a dull, colorless life, and have 
 left it to enter the paradise of love; she must have 
 known the bliss one feels to realize that one's whole 
 life is another's, to marry the infinite emotions of a 
 poetic soul, to live a twofold life; to go and come 
 with him in his journeys through space, in the 
 world of ambition; to suffer in his grief, to rise 
 upon the wings of his unbounded joys, to display 
 one's talents on a vast stage, and to remain all the 
 while calm and cold and serene before a curious 
 world. Yes, my dear, one must often hold a whole 
 ocean in her heart, when sitting, as we are now, on 
 a sofa before the fire. And yet what bliss to have 
 always, at every minute, an enormous interest 
 at stake, that multiplies the fibres of the heart and 
 stretches them; to be indifferent to nothing; to find
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 219 
 
 one's life depending on a drive where you will see 
 a gleaming eye that makes the sun turn pale; to be 
 excited by the least delay; to long to kill an annoy- 
 ing creature who robs you of one of the rare 
 moments when happiness beats madly in the tiniest 
 veins! What ecstasy to live! Ah! my dear love, 
 to live when so many women are on their knees 
 praying for the emotions that elude them ! Remem- 
 ber, my child, that for such poems there is but one 
 time, youth. In a few years the winter comes and 
 the cold. Ah! if you possessed these living riches 
 of the heart and were threatened with the loss of 
 them" 
 
 Madame du Til let had covered her face with her 
 hands in dismay as she listened to this awful dirge. 
 
 "I had no idea of reproving you in the slightest 
 degree, my dearest," she said at last, seeing the hot 
 tears streaming down her sister's cheeks. "You 
 have thrown more firebrands into my heart in a 
 moment, than my tears have extinguished. Yes, 
 the life I lead would justify my heart in such a love 
 as that you just described. Let me say, as I think, 
 that we should not be where we now are if we had 
 seen more of each other. If you had known of my 
 suffering you would have appreciated your own good 
 fortune; perhaps you would have emboldened me to 
 resist, and I should be happy. Your unhappiness 
 is an accident which a lucky chance will repair, 
 while my unhappiness is constant and everlasting. 
 In my husband's eyes I am the portmanteau of his 
 splendor, the signboard of his ambition, one of the
 
 220 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 gratifications of his vanity. He has neither true 
 affection for me nor confidence in me. Ferdinand 
 is as cold and smooth as this marble," she said, 
 laying her hand upon the mantel. "He distrusts 
 me. Whatever I might ask for myself is refused in 
 advance; but, as to anything that flatters him and 
 advertises his fortune, I don't even have to express 
 a wish; he decorates my apartments, he spends 
 enormous sums on my table. My servants, my boxes 
 at the theatre, everything that makes a show ex- 
 ternally is in the height of the fashion. His vanity 
 spares no expense; he will trim his children's 
 swaddling-clothes with lace, but he won't hear their 
 cries or divine their needs. Do you understand 
 me? I am covered with diamonds when 1 go to 
 court; in society I wear the richest gewgaws; but 
 I haven't a sou at my disposal. Madame du Tillet, 
 who arouses jealousy, perhaps, and who seems to 
 be swimming in gold, hasn't a hundred francs of 
 her own. If the father doesn't trouble himself 
 about his children, he troubles himself even less 
 about the mother. Ah ! he's taken a rough way of 
 making me feel that he paid for me, and that my 
 personal fortune, over which I have no control, was 
 extorted from him. If I had nothing to do but master 
 him, perhaps I might fascinate him ; but I am sub- 
 ject to the influence of a third person, a woman of 
 fifty years and more, who has claims upon him 
 and rules him, she's a notary's widow. I have a 
 feeling that I shall not be free until she is dead. 
 My life here is as regular as a queen's; I am
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 221 
 
 summoned to breakfast and dinner as at your cha- 
 teau. I invariably go out at a certain hour to drive 
 in the Bois. I am always accompanied by two ser- 
 vants in full livery, and must always return at a 
 fixed hour. Instead of giving orders I receive them. 
 At the ball, at the theatre, a footman comes and tells 
 me: 'Madame's carriage is at the door,' and I have 
 no choice but to go, often in the midst of my enjoy- 
 ment. Ferdinand would be angry if I did not con- 
 form to the etiquette he has ordained for his wife, 
 and he frightens me. Surrounded as I am by this 
 accursed opulence, I regret the past and think of our 
 mother as a kind mother ; she left us at night and I 
 could talk with youthen; in short I was living with 
 a being who loved me and suffered with me; while 
 here, in this sumptuous mansion, I am in the midst 
 of a desert." 
 
 At this terrible confession the countess seized her 
 sister's hand and kissed it, weeping. 
 
 "How can I help you?" Eugenie whispered. "If 
 he should find us together, his suspicions would be 
 aroused and he'd want to know what you've been 
 saying to me for this last hour; then we must lie to 
 him, and that's a hard thing to do with so shrewd 
 and treacherous a man; he'd set traps for me to fall 
 into. Let us leave my woes and think of yourself. 
 Your forty thousand francs, my dear, would be 
 nothing to Ferdinand, who turns millions over and 
 over with another vulgar banker, the Baron de 
 Nucingen. Sometimes I am present at dinner when 
 they say things to make one shudder. Du Tillet
 
 222 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 knows how discreet I am and they talk in my pres- 
 ence without restraint; they are sure of my silence. 
 Do you know murder on the highroad seems to me 
 an act of charity compared to certain financial 
 schemes! Nucingen and he think as little of ruin- 
 ing people as I think of their extravagance. Often 
 I receive poor dupes whose cases I have heard dis- 
 cussed the night before, and who are plunging into 
 enterprises where they are sure to leave their for- 
 tunes : I long to say to them, as to Leonarde in the 
 robbers' cave: 'Beware!' But what would become 
 of me? I hold my tongue. This magnificent house 
 is the resort of cutthroats. And Du Tillet and 
 Nucingen throw away thousand-franc notes by the 
 handful to gratify their whims. Ferdinand buys 
 the site of the old chateau at Le Tillet, intending to 
 rebuild it and to add to it a forest and other magni- 
 ficent properties. He declares that his son shall be 
 a count, and that his descendants in the third gen- 
 eration shall be noble. Nucingen is tired of his 
 fine house on Rue Saint-Lazare arid is building a 
 palace. His wife is one of my friends. Ah!" she 
 cried, "she may be of use to us; she is bold with 
 her husband and has the control of her own fortune ; 
 she will save you." 
 
 "My dear puss, I have only a few hours; let's go 
 there to-night, this instant," said Madame de Van- 
 denesse, throwing herself into Madame du Tillet's 
 arms, and bursting into tears. 
 
 "What! can I go out at eleven at night?" 
 
 "I have my carriage."
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 22$ 
 
 "What are you plotting here?" said Du Tillet, 
 pushing open the boudoir door. 
 
 He presented to the sisters a villainous counte- 
 nance, lighted up by a deceitfully affable smile. 
 The carpet had deadened the sound of his footsteps, 
 and the pre-occupation of the two women had pre- 
 vented their hearing the noise made by Du Tillet's 
 carriage entering the courtyard. The countess, in 
 whom contact with the world and the perfect free- 
 dom of action accorded her by Felix had developed 
 the two qualities, wit and shrewdness, whose growth 
 was still retarded in her sister's case by the marital 
 despotism which succeeded to that exercised by 
 their mother, noticed that Eugenie's alarm was on 
 the point of betraying itself, and saved her by a 
 ready response. 
 
 "I thought my sister was richer than she is," 
 said the countess, meeting her brother-in-law's 
 gaze. "Women sometimes get into a little trouble 
 which they don't care to mention to their husbands, 
 like Josephine and Napoleon, and I came to ask her 
 to do me a favor." 
 
 "She can easily do it, my dear sister. Euge- 
 nie is very rich," replied Du Tillet with veiled 
 malice. 
 
 "She is rich only in your eyes, my brother," re- 
 torted the countess, smiling bitterly. 
 
 "What do you want?" said Du Tillet, not sorry 
 to get a hold upon his sister-in-law. 
 
 "You silly fellow, didn't I tell you that we don't 
 want to compromise ourselves with our husbands?"
 
 224 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 replied Madame de Vandenesse significantly, real- 
 izing that she was putting herself at the mercy of 
 the man whose portrait had just been so faithfully 
 drawn by her sister. "I will come and see Eugenie 
 to-morrow." 
 
 "To-morrow?" rejoined the banker coldly. "No. 
 Madame du Tillet dines to-morrow with a future 
 peer of France, Baron de Nucingen, who will leave 
 me his seat in the Chamber of Deputies." 
 
 "Won't you allow her to accept my box at the 
 Opera?" said the countess without even exchanging 
 a look with her sister, so terrified was she that she 
 would betray their secret. 
 
 "She has her own, sister," said Du Tillet with 
 an offended air. 
 
 "Well, I will see her there," retorted the countess. 
 
 "It will be the first time you have done us that 
 honor," said Du Tillet. 
 
 The countess felt the reproof and began to laugh. 
 
 "Never fear, we won't make you pay anything 
 this time," said she. "Farewell, my love." 
 
 " Impertinent hussy !" cried Du Tillet, picking up 
 the flowers that had fallen from the countess's head- 
 dress. "You ought to study Madame de Vande- 
 nesse," he said to his wife. "I would like to see 
 you as impertinent in society as your sister was 
 here just now. You have an idiotic, bourgeois air 
 that drives me mad." 
 
 Eugenie's only reply was to raise her eyes to 
 heaven. 
 
 "Well, madame, what have you two been up to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 22$ 
 
 here?" said the banker after a pause, pointing to 
 the flowers. "What's going on that your sister 
 should come to your box to-morrow?" 
 
 The poor serf took refuge in feigned sleepiness 
 and left the room to undress, dreading a cross-ex- 
 amination. Du Til let thereupon took her by the 
 arm, led her back and placed her in front of him in 
 the light of the candles burning in silver-gilt arms 
 between two lovely bouquets of flowers, and fixed 
 his keen eyes upon hers. 
 
 "Your sister came here to borrow forty thousand 
 francs, owed by a man in whom she takes an inter- 
 est, and who will be boxed up like something of 
 value on Rue de Clichy inside of three days," said 
 he coldly. 
 
 The poor woman was seized with a fit of nervous 
 trembling which she repressed. 
 
 "You frightened me," said she. "But my sister 
 has been too well brought up, she loves her husband 
 too dearly to be so deeply interested in a man as 
 that." 
 
 "You're very much mistaken," he replied drily. 
 "Girls brought up as you two were in restraint and 
 religious observances, are thirsty for liberty and 
 long for happiness, and the happiness they attain 
 is never so great nor so enjoyable as that they 
 dreamed of. Such girls make bad wives." 
 
 "Speak for me," said poor Eugenie in a tone of 
 
 bitter mockery, "but respect my sister. The Com- 
 
 tesse de Vandenesse is too happy, her husband 
 
 leaves her too free for her not to be attached to him. 
 
 15
 
 226 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 Besides, if your supposition were true, she wouldn't 
 have told me anything about it." 
 
 "It is true," said Du Tillet "I forbid your 
 doing anything whatsoever in this business. It is 
 for my interest that the man should go to prison. 
 Consider it settled." 
 
 Madame Du Tillet left the room. 
 
 "She will disobey me of course, and I shall know 
 all they do by having them watched," said Du 
 Tillet when he was left alone in the boudoir. 
 "The poor fools really think they have a chance 
 with us!" 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders and followed his wife, 
 or, to speak more accurately, his slave.
 
 Madame de Vandenesse's confidences to Madame 
 du Tillet bore upon so many points of her life during 
 the last six years, that they would be unintelligible 
 without a succinct narrative of the principal events 
 in her history. 
 
 Among the notable men who owed their fortunes 
 to the Restoration, and whom, unluckily for itself, 
 it neglected, as in the case of Martignac, to admit 
 to the secrets of government, was Felix de Vande- 
 nesse, who was banished, as were several others, to 
 the Chamber of Peers in the last days of Charles X. 
 This disgrace, although but momentary in his eyes, 
 led him to think upon marriage, toward which he 
 was impelled, as many men are, by a sort of dis- 
 taste for love affairs, the wild flowers of youth. It 
 is a supreme moment when social life appears in all 
 its gravity. Felix de Vandenesse had been alter- 
 nately lucky and unlucky, more frequently unlucky 
 than lucky, as all men are who, at their first appear- 
 ance in society, have encountered love in its most 
 attractive form. Such privileged characters become 
 hard to please. After having made a thorough test 
 of life and compared the characters of many in- 
 dividuals, they reach a point where they are content 
 with an almost and take refuge in absolute self-in- 
 dulgence. They are not deceived because they no 
 longer seek to undeceive themselves; but they 
 (227)
 
 228 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 resign themselves gracefully; by dint of being pre- 
 pared for anything, they suffer less. Felix, how- 
 ever, might still be considered one of the most 
 winning and agreeable men in Paris. He had been 
 particularly commended to the favor of the sex by 
 one of the noblest creatures of the age, who died, it 
 is said, of disappointment and of love for him ; but 
 his training had been the especial care of the 
 beautiful Lady Dudley. In the opinion of many 
 Parisian women, Felix, a sort of hero of romance, 
 owed many of his conquests to all the hard things 
 that were said of him. Madame de Manerville had 
 brought his adventurous career to a close. Without 
 being a Don Juan, he took his leave of the lover's 
 world as thoroughly disenchanted as he was with 
 the world of politics. He despaired of ever falling 
 in with his ideal of woman and of passion, which, 
 to his undoing, had brightened and dominated his 
 youth. 
 
 As he approached his thirtieth year Comte Felix 
 determined to put an end to the ennui of his con- 
 quests by marrying. Upon one point his resolution 
 was unalterable: he would take unto himself a 
 young girl reared in the strictest tenets of Cathol- 
 icism. He needed no other inducement than a 
 knowledge of the Comtesse de Granville's manage- 
 ment of her daughters to seek the hand of the older. 
 He also had been subjected to a mother's despotism ; 
 he remembered enough of his long-suffering boy- 
 hood to discover, despite the dissimulation of 
 feminine modesty, to what condition the maternal
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 229 
 
 yoke had brought a young girl's heart; whether the 
 heart was disappointed, soured, rebellious, or had 
 remained tranquil and lovable and ready to give 
 free access to the finer feelings. Tyranny produces 
 two contrary effects, whose types are found in two 
 great figures of ancient serfdom: Epictetus and 
 Spartacus hatred and its accompaniment of evil 
 sentiments, resignation and its accompaniment of 
 Christ-like meekness and affection. The Comte 
 de Vandenesse recognized his own image in Marie- 
 Angelique de Granville. 
 
 When he took to wife an artless, pure, innocent 
 girl, he resolved beforehand, like the young old man 
 that he was, to combine the affection of a father 
 with the affection of a husband. He felt that his 
 own heart was withered by his experience in society 
 and in politics, and he knew that he was giving the 
 remains of a worn-out life in exchange for a bloom- 
 ing, youthful life. He was placing the snows of 
 winter beside the flowers of spring, the experience 
 of a graybeard beside sprightly, unreflecting im- 
 prudence. Having made this judicious survey of 
 his position, he encamped in his conjugal quarters 
 with abundant supplies. Indulgence and confidence 
 were the two anchors upon which he relied. 
 Mothers of families should seek such husbands for 
 their daughters; intelligence is as trustworthy a 
 protector as the Deity, disenchantment as per- 
 spicacious as a surgeon, experience as wary as 
 a mother. These three qualities are the divine vir- 
 tues of marriage. The delicacies and refinements
 
 230 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 which his habits as a lady's man and a man of 
 fashion had taught Felix de Vandenesse, the 
 teachings of high political office, the observations 
 he had made during his whole life as a man devoted 
 to business, a thinker and a man of letters one after 
 the other, all his powers, in short, were exerted to 
 make his wife happy, and he devoted his whole 
 mind to the task. 
 
 Upon emerging from the maternal purgatory, 
 Marie-Angelique was suddenly borne aloft to the 
 conjugal paradise Felix had constructed for her on 
 Rue du Rocher, in a house where the smallest 
 things had an aristocratic savor, but where the 
 varnish of good society imposed no restraint upon 
 the harmonious good-fellowship for which loving 
 young hearts yearn. In the first place Marie- 
 Angelique enjoyed in their entirety the delights of 
 material life, for her husband during two whole 
 years acted as her intendant He explained to her 
 gradually and with much skill the meaning of life, 
 initiated her by degrees into the mysteries of good 
 society, taught her the genealogies of all the noble 
 families, described the world to her, instructed her 
 in the art of making her toilette and of conversa- 
 tion, took her from theatre to theatre, and put her 
 through a course of literature and history. He 
 educated her thus with the care of a lover, a father, 
 a teacher and a husband ; but with judicious gravity, 
 he so managed her lessons and her recreations as 
 not to destroy her religious sentiments. In short, 
 he acquitted himself of his undertaking like a past
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 231 
 
 master. After four years he had the satisfaction of 
 having made the Comtesse de Vandenesse one of 
 the most agreeable and most noteworthy women of 
 her day. Marie-Angelique's feeling for Felix was 
 precisely that which he desired to inspire: genuine 
 friendship, heartfelt gratitude and a fraternal love 
 combined with such noble and dignified attachment 
 as should exist between husband and wife. She 
 was a mother and a good mother. Thus Felix 
 bound his wife to himself by every possible tie 
 without seeming to take her by the throat, and he 
 relied for unclouded happiness upon the attractions 
 of habit 
 
 Only those men who have been trained in the 
 harsh school of life and have run through the whole 
 gamut of political and amorous disillusionment, 
 possess the science and can conduct themselves 
 as he did. Moreover, he felt the same delight in 
 his work that painters and writers and architects 
 who rear noble structures feel in the creations of 
 their talents ; he experienced a twofold enjoyment 
 in carrying on the work and in witnessing its suc- 
 cess, in gazing with admiration on his wife, well- 
 informed and artless, clever and natural, lovable 
 and chaste, young girl and mother, perfectly free 
 and yet in chains. The history of happy house- 
 holds is like that of happy peoples; it can be 
 written in two lines and has no literary interest 
 And so, as happiness can be explained only by 
 itself, the story of these four years contains nothing 
 which is not as soft as the purple hue of undying
 
 232 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 love, as insipid as manna, and as amusing as the 
 romance of Aslr'ee. 
 
 In 1833 the edifice of happiness reared by Felix 
 was tottering to its fall, undermined at its founda- 
 tion, without the slightest suspicion on his part 
 The heart of the woman of twenty-five is no more 
 identical with the heart of the girl of eighteen than 
 that of the woman of forty is identical with that of 
 the woman of thirty. There are four ages in a 
 woman's life. Each age creates a new woman. 
 Vandenesse was doubtless acquainted with the laws 
 governing these transformations due to our modern 
 code of morals ; but he forgot them in his own case, 
 as the most accomplished grammarian may forget 
 the rules of grammar when he writes a book, as the 
 greatest general on the battlefield, under fire, per- 
 plexed by the nature of the ground, may forget an 
 invariable rule of the art of war. The man who 
 can give enduring form to his thought by deeds is 
 a man of genius ; but the man who has the most 
 genius does not display it at every instant he 
 would resemble God too closely. After four years 
 of this life without a single heartache, without a 
 word that produced the slightest semblance of dis- 
 cord in this smooth-flowing harmony of sentiment, 
 feeling that she had attained her full development, 
 like a lovely plant in rich soil, beneath the caresses 
 of a glorious sun shining in a sky whose azure is 
 never marred by a cloud, the countess experienced a 
 sort of reaction. This crisis in her life, the subject 
 of this scene, would be incomprehensible without
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 233 
 
 certain elucidations which will perhaps condone, 
 in the eyes of women, the errors of this young 
 countess, no less happy as wife than as mother, 
 although she will appear, at first glance, to have 
 had no excuse therefor. 
 
 Life is the result of the play of two contrary 
 principles; when one is lacking the individual 
 suffers. Vandenesse, by anticipating every want, 
 had suppressed desire, the king of creation, which 
 furnishes occupation for a vast amount of moral 
 force. Extreme heat, extreme misery, perfect 
 happiness, all abstract principles set up their 
 thrones in desert places; they prefer to be alone, 
 they stifle everything that is not themselves. Van- 
 denesse was not a woman, and women alone know 
 the art of imparting variety to felicity; hence their 
 coquetry, their refusals, their fears, their quarrels, 
 and the knowing, entertaining tricks by which they 
 raise difficulties one day about something that 
 offered no obstacle the day before. Men may bore 
 one with their constancy, women never. 
 
 Vandenesse's nature was too entirely kind to 
 permit him wilfully to annoy a wife whom he loved, 
 and he transported her into the bluest, most cloud- 
 less infinitude of love. The problem of everlasting 
 beatitude is one of those whose solution is known 
 only to God, in the other world. Here on earth 
 the sublimest poets are forever tiring out their 
 readers by undertaking a description of paradise. 
 The reef upon which Dante came to grief was the 
 same that wrecked Vandenesse ; honor to courage in
 
 234 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 adversity! His wife came at last to be conscious of 
 some monotony in an Eden so perfectly arranged ; the 
 unclouded happiness experienced by the first woman 
 in the terrestrial paradise, causes the same feeling 
 of nausea that the constant use of sweet things 
 always causes at last, and made the countess long, as 
 Rivarol did upon reading Florian, to fall in with a 
 wolf in the sheepfold. This has always seemed to 
 be the meaning of the emblematic serpent to which 
 Eve applied, probably from ennui. This reflection 
 will seem rather bold, perhaps, to Protestants, who 
 take Genesis more seriously than the Jews them- 
 selves. But the position of Madame de Vandenesse 
 can be explained without biblical metaphors; she 
 felt that there was a vast amount of unemployed 
 force in her heart, her happiness caused her no 
 suffering, it pursued the even tenor of its way 
 without care or anxiety, she did not tremble from 
 the fear of losing it, it appeared every morning with 
 the same clear sky, the same smile, the same pleas- 
 ant words. The smooth surface of the lake was 
 ruffled by no breath, not even by the zephyr ; she 
 would have liked to see an undulation in the mirror- 
 like expanse. There was an indefinable childish- 
 ness in her longing which might well have served 
 as her excuse; but society is no more indulgent 
 than the God of Genesis. Having learned to use 
 her wits the countess realized perfectly how dis- 
 gusting such a feeling must be, and she could not 
 bear the thought of confiding it to her dear little 
 husband. In her simplicity she had invented no
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 235 
 
 other pet name than this, for one cannot forge in 
 cold natures the deliciously exaggerated language 
 that love teaches its victims amid the flames. 
 
 Vandenesse, delighted with his wife's adorable 
 reserve, detained her in the temperate latitudes of 
 conjugal affection by his shrewd devices. Indeed, 
 that model husband deemed unworthy of a noble 
 heart the meretricious expedients which would have 
 made him greater in her eyes and would have won 
 for him a reward from her heart; he preferred to 
 depend upon his own powers of pleasing and to owe 
 nothing to the artifices of fortune. The Comtesse 
 Marie smiled when she saw an incomplete or poorly 
 set up equipage in the Bois; her eyes would com- 
 placently return to the clock-like movement of her 
 own horses in their English harness which left them 
 almost free, and each keeping his proper position. 
 Felix never lowered himself so far as to gather up 
 the profits of the trouble he took; in his wife's eyes 
 his love of luxury and his good taste were quite 
 natural ; she was not grateful to him for the fact 
 that her self-esteem was not wounded. It was so 
 with everything. Kindness is not without its dis- 
 advantages; people attribute it to one's character, 
 and are seldom willing to see in it the secret efforts 
 of a noble heart, while they reward evil-minded 
 men for the harm they do not do. 
 
 About this time Madame Felix de Vandenesse 
 reached the point where her education was so far 
 advanced that she could lay aside the rdle of timid, 
 observing, listening supernumerary which Giulia
 
 236 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 Grisi played for some time, they say, in the chorus 
 at La Scala. The young countess felt that she was 
 competent to essay the part of prima donna, and 
 she made several ventures in that direction. To 
 Felix's satisfaction she joined in conversation. In- 
 genious repartees and shrewd observations, sown in 
 her mind by her intercourse with her husband, drew 
 attention to her, and success made her bold. Van- 
 denesse, whose wife was universally admitted to be 
 beautiful, was delighted when she acquired a reputa- 
 tion for wit On returning from a ball or a concert 
 or a rout at which Marie had shone, she would say 
 to Felix with a pleased and saucy expression, as she 
 was undressing: "Were you satisfied with me to- 
 night?" 
 
 The countess aroused some jealousy among 
 others on the part of her husband's sister, the Mar- 
 quise de Listomere, who had patronized her at first 
 with the idea that she was taking under her wing 
 one who would make an excellent background 
 against which to display her own attractions. A 
 countess named Marie, lovely, intellectual and vir- 
 tuous, a musician and not a flirt what a victim for 
 society! There were several women in society 
 with whom Felix de Vandenesse had broken, or 
 who had broken with him, but who were not in- 
 different to his marriage. When these women 
 found Madame de Vandenesse to be a little bit of a 
 creature with red hands, extremely diffident, with 
 little to say for herself, and apparently little given 
 to thinking, they thought they were sufficiently
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 237 
 
 avenged. The disasters of July, 1830, supervened, 
 society was dissolved for two years, people of 
 wealth remained at their estates in the country or 
 traveled in Europe while the agony lasted, and the 
 salons did not reopen much before 1833. Faubourg 
 Saint-Germain had the sulks, but it looked upon 
 some houses, among others the Austrian ambas- 
 sador's, as neutral ground; legitimist society and 
 the new society met there in the persons of their 
 most fashionable leaders. 
 
 Attached by a thousand ties of affection and 
 gratitude to the exiled family, but strong in his 
 matured convictions, Vandenesse did not feel called 
 upon to imitate the absurdly extravagant perform- 
 ances of his party. While the danger lasted he did 
 his duty at the risk of his life by making his way 
 through the waves of the populace to propose terms 
 of accommodation ; so he took his wife into society 
 where his fidelity could never be brought in ques- 
 tion. Vandenesse's former lady friends found it 
 difficult to recognize the young bride in the fashion- 
 able, bright, sweet-spoken countess, who reappeared 
 with the most exquisite manners of the female 
 aristocracy. Mesdames d'Espard and De Maner- 
 ville, Lady Dudley and some others less known 
 were conscious of the awakening of serpents in the 
 recesses of their hearts; they heard the soft hissing 
 of angered pride, they were jealous of Felix's 
 happiness; they would willingly have given their 
 prettiest slippers to have some harm befall him. 
 Instead of showing hostility to the countess these
 
 238 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 kind unkind women thronged about her, were ex- 
 cessively friendly to her, and praised her to the skies 
 to the men. Having no doubt of their real inten- 
 tions, Felix kept close watch upon their relations 
 with Marie and told her not to trust them. One 
 and all divined the discomfort their intercourse 
 caused the count, they did not forgive his distrust 
 of them, and they redoubled their attentions and 
 devotion to their rival, who achieved a striking 
 success through their efforts, to the great disgust of 
 the Marquise de Listomere, who did not under- 
 stand it at all. The Comtesse Felix de Vandenesse 
 was said to be the most fascinating and cleverest 
 woman in Paris. Marie's other sister-in-law, Mar- 
 quise Charles de Vandenesse, was annoyed again 
 and again by the confusion caused by the identity 
 of names and the comparisons to which it gave 
 rise. Although the marchioness was also a very 
 beautiful and accomplished woman, her sister-in- 
 law's rivals found it easy to make trouble between 
 them because the countess was twelve years 
 younger. These women knew how certain the 
 countess's success was to cause unpleasantness in 
 her relations with her sisters-in-law, who became 
 extremely cold and uncivil to the triumphant 
 Marie-Angelique. 
 
 These were dangerous allies, intimate enemies. 
 Everyone knows that literature was at that time 
 defending itself against the general indifference 
 born of the political drama, by producing works 
 more or less Byronic which treated of little else than
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 239 
 
 conjugal shortcomings. In those days infractions of 
 the marriage vow were the main support of reviews, 
 books and the stage. This everlasting subject 
 was never more fashionable. The lover, nightmare 
 of husbands, was everywhere, except perhaps in 
 real life, where he was less in evidence in those 
 days of bourgeois supremacy than ever before. Do 
 thieves select for their walks abroad the time when 
 everybody is running to his window, shouting: 
 "Watch!" and lighting up the street? If, during 
 these years which were so fruitful in municipal, 
 political and moral agitation, matrimonial catastro- 
 phes did happen, they were exceptions and did not 
 attract so much attention as under the Restoration. 
 Nevertheless women talked much among themselves 
 of the subject that then engrossed the two forms of 
 poesy: the book and the stage. There was fre- 
 quent discussion of the lover, that rare and much 
 desiderated creature. Such adventures as were 
 noised abroad furnished food for gossip, and the 
 burden of the gossip was, as always, sustained by 
 the women of irreproachable character. A fact 
 worthy of remark is the repugnance manifested by 
 women who indulge in illicit enjoyment for discus- 
 sions of this sort; they preserve a modest, reserved, 
 almost timid demeanor in society; they have the 
 air of requesting everyone to be silent, or to forgive 
 them for their stolen pleasure. When, on the other 
 hand, a woman takes delight in hearing of family 
 catastrophes, when she listens to explanations of 
 the joys which justify the culprits, be sure that she
 
 240 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 is at the cross-roads of indecision and does not 
 know which road to take. 
 
 During that winter the Comtesse de Vandenesse 
 heard the loud voice of society bellowing in her 
 ears, the tempests roared about her. Her pretended 
 friends, who rose above their reputations by virtue 
 of their eminent names and rank, sketched the 
 seductive figure of the lover to her again and again, 
 and poured into her heart burning words about love, 
 the key to the enigma life propounds to womankind, 
 the great passion, according to Madame de Stae'l, 
 who practised what she preached. When the count- 
 ess innocently asked, in private, what the differ- 
 ence was between a husband and a lover, some one 
 of the women who longed to do Vandenesse an 
 injury would always reply in such a way as to 
 excite her curiosity, put the spur to her imagina- 
 tion, make an impression on her heart and interest 
 her mind. 
 
 "You exist with your husband, my dear, but you 
 really live only with your lover," said her sister- 
 in-law, the Marquise de Vandenesse. 
 
 "Marriage, my child, is our purgatory," said 
 Lady Dudley; "love is paradise." 
 
 "Don't you believe her," cried Mademoiselle des 
 Touches, "it's perfect hell !" 
 
 "But it's a hell where one loves," observed the 
 Marquise de Rochefide. "There's often more pleas- 
 ure in suffering than in happiness; look at the 
 martyrs!" 
 
 "With a husband, you little goose, we live our
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 241 
 
 own life, so to speak; but to love is to live in an- 
 other's life," said the Marquise d'Espard. 
 
 "A lover is forbidden fruit, a fact which sums up 
 the whole thing so far as I am concerned," said 
 pretty Molna de Saint-Heren, laughingly. 
 
 16
 
 When she was not in attendance upon diplomatic 
 routs, or at a ball at the house of some wealthy for- 
 eigner, like Lady Dudley or Princess Galathionne, 
 the countess went into society almost every evening 
 after the Italiens or the Opera to the Marquise 
 d'Espard's, or Madame de Listomere's or Mademoi- 
 selle des Touches' or the Comtesse de Montcornet's 
 or the Vicomtesse de Grandlieu's, those being the 
 only aristocratic houses then open ; and she never 
 left one of those houses that a few more poisonous 
 seeds had not been sown in her heart They talked 
 to her about completing her life an expression much 
 in vogue at that time; about being understood 
 another expression to which women give extraor- 
 dinary meanings. She would return home rest- 
 less, excited, curious and thoughtful. It seemed 
 to her that a vague something had gone from her 
 life, but she did not go so far as to find it a desert 
 
 Among the salons frequented by Madame Felix 
 the most entertaining, and the most mixed social 
 circle, was to be found at the Comtesse de Montcor- 
 net's, a fascinating little woman, who received 
 illustrious artists, kings of finance, and distinguished 
 authors, but only after subjecting them to such 
 severe scrutiny that those who were most exacting 
 in the matter of their associates had no reason to 
 fear that they should meet there anybody of inferior 
 social standing. The most exalted pretensions were
 
 244 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 free from danger there. During the winter, when 
 society was rallying its forces, several salons, among 
 which were Madame d'Espard's and Madame de 
 Listomere's, Mademoiselle des Touches' and the 
 Duchesse de Grandlieu's, had enlisted recruits 
 among the latest celebrities in art, science, litera- 
 ture and politics. Society never loses its rights, 
 it always seeks to be entertained. At a concert 
 given by the countess, toward the end of the winter, 
 one of the contemporaneous lights of literature and 
 politics made his appearance in her salon Raoul 
 Nathan, presented by one of the cleverest but also 
 one of the laziest authors of the age, cmile Blondet, 
 another famous man, but only among his friends; 
 bepraised by the journalists, but unknown beyond 
 the barriers. Blondet knew it; moreover, he in- 
 dulged in no illusions, and among other disdainful 
 remarks he was accustomed to make was this that 
 fame was a poison that it was well to take in small 
 doses. 
 
 From the moment that he fought his way out into 
 the light after a long struggle, Raoul Nathan had 
 profited by the sudden admiration for form mani- 
 fested by those dandified adulators of the Middle 
 Ages, jocularly called Young France. He had 
 affected the peculiarities of a man of genius, enroll- 
 ing himself among those worshipers of art whose 
 intentions, by the way, were excellent; for, although 
 there could be nothing more absurd than the dress 
 of Frenchmen in the Nineteenth Century, it re- 
 quired courage to reform it. We must do Raoul
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 245 
 
 the justice to say that there is in his person an in- 
 definable something grand, grotesque and extraor- 
 dinary, which requires a frame. His friends and 
 his enemies, and they are about equal in number, 
 agree that nothing could be more in accord with his 
 mind than his body. Raoul Nathan would be more 
 remarkable perhaps in a state of nature than he is 
 with his surroundings. His seamed and wasted 
 face gives him the appearance of having fought with 
 angels or demons ; it resembles the face that Ger- 
 man painters give the dead Christ: it shows in- 
 numerable traces of an unremitting conflict between 
 weak human nature and the powers above. But 
 the deep wrinkles in his cheeks, the indentations 
 on his contorted, furrowed skull, the deep hollows 
 about his eyes and in his temples indicate no weak- 
 ness of constitution. His hard muscles and promi- 
 nent bones have a remarkably robust appearance; 
 and although his skin, made sallow by dissipation, 
 clings closely to them as if internal fires had dried 
 and shrunken it, it covers none the less a formidable 
 framework. He is tall and thin. His long hair, 
 always disarranged, aims for effect. This unkempt, 
 ill-made Byron has the legs of a heron, swollen 
 knees, an exaggerated swagger, hands strong as a 
 crab's claws, with muscles standing out like whip- 
 cord, and thin, nervous fingers. He has Napoleonic 
 eyes, blue eyes whose glance pierces the soul; a 
 twisted nose, cunning beyond description ; a lovely 
 mouth, embellished with the whitest teeth a woman 
 could ask. There are fire and animation in the
 
 246 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 poise of his head, and genius on his brow. Raoul 
 is one of the few men who attract your notice as 
 they pass, and in a salon form a luminous point on 
 which all eyes converge. He attracts attention by 
 his n'egllg'e, if we may borrow from Moliere the word 
 used by Eliante to describe the sloven. His clothes 
 always look as if they had been rumpled and twisted 
 and pulled about for the express purpose of making 
 them harmonize with his countenance. He usually 
 keeps one of his hands in his open waistcoat, in the 
 attitude made famous by Girodet's portrait of Mon- 
 sieur de Chateaubriand; but he does it not so much 
 to resemble him for he prefers not to resemble 
 anybody as to disarrange the smooth folds of his 
 shirt His cravat is displaced in an instant by the 
 convulsive movements of his head, which are ex- 
 traordinarily quick and jerky, like those of blooded 
 horses, fretting under their harness, who toss their 
 heads incessantly in vain endeavors to get rid of the 
 bit or the curb. His long, pointed beard is neither 
 combed nor brushed nor scented nor trimmed, like 
 those of the dandies who wear their beards fan- 
 shaped or trimmed to a point; he leaves it as it is. 
 His hair strays between his coat collar and his cra- 
 vat, and falls luxuriantly over his shoulders, leaving 
 a greasy mark on the spots it caresses. His thin, 
 sinewy hands are unacquainted with the ministra- 
 tions of the nail-brush and the luxury of the lemon. 
 Several journalists will have it that holy water does 
 not often refresh their calcined skin. In a word, 
 the redoubtable Raoul is a grotesque creature. His
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 247 
 
 movements are jerky as if produced by imperfect 
 mechanism. His gait runs counter to all ideas of 
 good order, with its enthusiastic zigzags and unex- 
 pected pauses which bring him in violent contact 
 with the pacific bourgeois walking along the boule- 
 vards. 
 
 His conversation, overflowing with caustic humor 
 and bitter epigrams, copies the movements of his 
 body : it suddenly abandons the revengeful tone and 
 becomes soothing, poetic, consolatory and ram- 
 bling; there are unexplicable pauses, and somer- 
 saults of wit which sometimes become wearisome. 
 His manner in society is audaciously awkward, con- 
 temptuous of conventions, and he assumes a critical 
 air with regard to everything that society respects, 
 which gives him a bad name with small-minded folk 
 as well as with those who strive to keep alive the 
 old-time doctrines of courtesy; but there is some- 
 thing original about it as there is about Chinese 
 ornaments, something that women do not dislike. 
 Moreover, to them he sometimes displays unwonted 
 affability, and seems to take pleasure in making 
 them forget his outlandish appearance in achieving 
 a victory over their antipathy which flatters his 
 vanity, his self-esteem or his pride. 
 
 "Why are you like this?" the Marquise de Van- 
 denesse asked him one day. 
 
 "Aren't pearls found in shells?" he replied pom- 
 pously. 
 
 To another person who put the same question to 
 him he replied:
 
 248 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "If I were attractive to everybody, how could I 
 make myself more so to one chosen individual?" 
 
 Raoul Nathan carries into his intellectual life, the 
 disorder he has taken for his ensign. Its announce- 
 ment is not misleading; his talent resembles that of 
 the poor girls who apply for positions as maid-of- 
 all-work in bourgeois households. He was, first of 
 all, a critic, and a great critic; but he detected fraud 
 in that trade. His articles were worth as much as 
 books, he said. The profits of the stage next fas- 
 cinated him ; but, being incapable of the slow, con- 
 stant work demanded of a stage-manager, he was 
 compelled to become associated with a vaudevillist, 
 Du Bruel, who put his ideas in shape, and always 
 succeeded in reducing them to productive little 
 plays, running over with wit, and invariably writ- 
 ten for some particular actor or actress. Between 
 them they discovered Florine, an actress who made 
 a great hit Humiliated by a partnership resem- 
 bling that of the Siamese twins, Nathan produced, 
 unaided, at the Theatre-Francais, a great drama 
 which fell with all the honors of war, amid the 
 salvos of crushing newspaper articles. In his 
 younger days he had made an attempt to enrich the 
 great and noble French stage with a magnificent 
 romantic play after the style of Pinto, at a time 
 when the classical fad reigned supreme; but there 
 was so much uproar and excitement at the Odeon 
 for three evenings that the play was prohibited. 
 In the eyes of many people, this second play, like 
 the first, seemed a masterpiece, and won him more
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 249 
 
 reputation than all the more profitable pieces 
 written in collaboration with others, among people 
 whose opinion had little weight, however, namely 
 connoisseurs and men of genuine good taste. 
 
 "Another such failure," said mile Blondet, "and 
 you will become immortal." 
 
 But, instead of pursuing that rocky road, Raoul 
 had from necessity fallen back upon the powder and 
 patches of eighteenth century vaudeville, upon cos- 
 tume plays, and scenic reproductions of successful 
 books. Nevertheless, he was looked upon as a great 
 mind, who had not said his last word. Indeed he 
 had ventured into the loftier realms of literature 
 and had published three novels, without counting 
 those that he kept under lock and key, like fish in 
 an artificial pond. One of these three books the 
 first, as is the case with many authors who have 
 never succeeded in writing more than one book 
 was brilliantly successful. This artistic work being 
 rashly assigned the highest rank, he was accustomed 
 to refer to it on all occasions as the finest book of 
 the age, the only novel of the century. He com- 
 plained loudly, however, of the exigences of art; he 
 was one of those who were most instrumental in 
 enroll ing all forms of artistic production, the picture, 
 the statue, the book, the edifice, under the single 
 banner of Art He began by putting forth a collec- 
 tion of verses which entitled him to a place in the 
 constellation of poets of the present day, and among 
 which there was one mystical poem that was much 
 admired. Being compelled by his lack of means to
 
 250 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 earn his living, he wandered from the stage to the 
 press, from the press to the stage, dissipated and 
 extravagant, trusting always to his lucky star. His 
 renown therefore was not unpublished like that of 
 a number of expiring celebrities, kept alive by the 
 titles of forthcoming works, which will not have as 
 many editions as they need markets. Nathan re- 
 sembled a man of genius ; and if he had gone to the 
 scaffold, as he was once seized with a longing to do, 
 he might have struck his hand against his brow 
 after the manner of Andre de Chenier. He was at- 
 tacked by political ambition when he witnessed the 
 irruption into the government of a score of authors, 
 professors, metaphysicians and historians, who 
 grafted themselves on the machine during the 
 troubles from 1830 to 1833, and he regretted that he 
 had not written political rather than literary articles. 
 He deemed himself superior to these upstarts, whose 
 elevation aroused consuming jealousy in his heart 
 He was one of those men who are jealous of every- 
 body and capable of anything, whose triumphs are 
 always stolen from them, and who go stumbling 
 along toward one luminous point after another with- 
 out establishing themselves at any one, and forever 
 wearing out the good will of their neighbors. At 
 this particular time he was on his way from Saint- 
 Simonism to republicanism, to return, perhaps, to 
 ministerialism. He had his bone to gnaw in every 
 corner, and was on the lookout for a safe place 
 where he could bark at pleasure out of reach of 
 blows and make himself an object of fear ; but he
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 251 
 
 had the humiliation of seeing that he was not taken 
 seriously by the illustrious De Marsay, who was 
 then at the head of the government and had no con- 
 sideration for authors in whom he could not detect 
 what Richelieu called the spirit of sequence, or, 
 better still, sequence in his ideas. Furthermore, 
 any ministry must have taken into account the con- 
 stant confusion of Raoul's affairs. Sooner or later, 
 necessity would bring him to the point where he 
 must submit to conditions instead of imposing them. 
 Raoul's real but sedulously hidden character is in 
 accord with his public performance. He is an actor 
 in good faith, as self-satisfied as if the State were 
 he, and a very clever declaimer. No one knows bet- 
 ter than he how to feign sentiment, to pride himself 
 upon false grandeur, to deck himself out with fine 
 moral aphorisms, to maintain his dignity in words, 
 and to pose as an Alceste while adopting the 
 methods of a Philinte. His selfishness trots along, 
 protected by this armor of painted pasteboard, and 
 often attains the secret goal at which it aims. 
 Slothful to the last degree, he has never done any- 
 thing except when goaded by the spear-points of 
 necessity. The unremitting toil necessarily ex- 
 pended upon the creation of a monument he knows 
 nothing of; but in the paroxysm of rage brought on 
 by a wound inflicted upon his vanity, or at a crisis 
 precipitated by a creditor, he leaps the Eurotas and 
 triumphs over the most difficult mental banking 
 operations. Then, worn out and amazed to find 
 that he has really created something, he falls back
 
 252 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 into the slough of Parisian dissipation. His neces- 
 sities become alarming; he has expended all his 
 strength, so he descends from his high estate and 
 compromises himself. Induced by a mistaken idea 
 of his own grandeur and his future, which he meas- 
 ures by the exalted fortune of an old comrade of his, 
 one of the few men with a genius for administration 
 brought to light by the Revolution of July, he so 
 far demeans himself, in order to get clear of the 
 difficulty, as to play unconscionable tricks upon 
 people who are attached to him tricks that are 
 buried in the mysteries of private life, and of which 
 no one ever speaks or complains. The frivolity of 
 his heart, the effrontery of the grasp of his hand, in 
 which are gathered all the vices, unhappiness and 
 treachery in every guise, and every shade of opin- 
 ion, have made him as inviolable as a constitutional 
 king. The venial sin, which would raise a hue and 
 cry at the heels of a man of high character, is of no 
 consequence in him; an indelicacy is almost noth- 
 ing, and everybody makes excuses for himself by 
 excusing him. The very man who might be 
 tempted to despise him offers him his hand, fear- 
 ing that he may need him. He has so many friends 
 that he longs for foes. His apparent good-fellow- 
 ship, which attracts newcomers and interferes with 
 no act of treachery, which takes great liberties and 
 justifies everything, which cries aloud at an injury 
 and forgives it, is one of the distinguishing charac- 
 teristics of the journalist. This camaraderie, a word 
 invented by a bright man, corrodes the noblest
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 253 
 
 hearts; it eats away their pride, destroys the active 
 principle of great exploits, and makes of mental 
 cowardice a sacred thing. By exacting this plia- 
 bility of conscience from everybody, certain people 
 seek to obtain absolution for their own treachery 
 and backsliding. That is how the most enlightened 
 portion of a nation may become the least estimable. 
 From a literary standpoint Nathan lacks style and 
 thoroughness. Like the majority of young men 
 ambitious of literary renown, he disgorges to-day 
 what he learned yesterday. He has neither the 
 time nor the patience to write; he has not been an 
 observant man, but he listens well. Incapable of 
 constructing a vigorous, well-knit plot, he saves his 
 reputation perhaps by the fervid enthusiasm of his 
 sketch. He plays at passion to use a bit of literary 
 slang, because in genuine passion everything is 
 true; while it is the mission of genius to seek 
 among the chance developments of the true for what 
 is likely to seem probable to everybody. Instead of 
 awakening novel ideas, his heroes are simply exag- 
 gerated personalities, who arouse only momentary 
 sympathy; they have no relation to the important 
 interests of life, and for that reason they represent 
 nothing; but he maintains his position by the rapid 
 working of his mind, by those lucky hits which 
 billiard-players call flukes. None so skilful as he, 
 at shooting on the wing, the ideas that hover over 
 Paris or that Paris beats up. His fertility is not 
 his own, but the time's: he lives upon passing 
 events, and, in order to control them, stretches them
 
 254 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 too far. In short, he is not genuine; his words are 
 false; there is, as Comte Felix said, something of 
 the sleight-of-hand artist about him. We can feel 
 that his pen gets its ink in an actress's closet 
 Nathan is a fair type of the literary youth of to- 
 day, its fictitious grandeur and its real misery; he 
 represents it with its faulty beauty and its crushing 
 failures, its life of foaming torrents, sudden reverses, 
 unhoped-for triumphs. He is the true child of this 
 jealousy-ridden age, when innumerable rivalries 
 under cover of projects of all sorts are nourishing for 
 their own benefit the hydra of anarchy, born of all 
 their errors the age which seeks fortune without 
 labor, glory without talent, success without strife; 
 but which, after many rebellions and many skir- 
 mishes, its vices are forcing to trim down the budget 
 at the pleasure of Power. When so many youthful 
 ambitions set out on foot, and are all bound for the 
 same point, there is a constant clashing of wills, 
 incredible suffering, desperate strife. In this 
 ghastly struggle, the most violent or the most wary 
 egoism gains the victory. The example thus set is 
 envied and extenuated, despite the hullabaloo, as 
 Moliere would say; and others follow it
 
 When Raoul made his appearance in Madame de 
 Montcornet's salon in the capacity of an enemy of 
 the new dynasty, his apparent grandeur was in a 
 flourishing condition. He was accepted as the 
 political critic of the De Marsays, the Rastignacs, 
 the La Roche-Hugons, who formed the government 
 Emile Blondet, Nathan's sponsor, always the victim 
 of his fatal hesitation and of his repugnance to do 
 anything that concerned himself alone, was still 
 playing the r61e of scoffer, took sides with nobody 
 and was on good terms with everybody. He was 
 Raoul's friend, Rastignac's friend, Montcornet's 
 friend. 
 
 "You're a political triangle," De Marsay once 
 said to him, when he met him at the Opera; "that 
 particular geometrical figure is suitable only for 
 God, who hasn't anything to do; but ambitious 
 men ought always to follow a curved line, the 
 shortest road in politics." 
 
 Seen at a distance, Raoul Nathan was a very 
 striking meteor. Fashion authorized his manners 
 and his apparel. His borrowed republicanism gave 
 him for the moment the Jansenist asperity assumed 
 by the defenders of the popular cause, at whom he 
 sneered internally, and which is not without a 
 certain fascination in a woman's eyes. Women 
 love to perform miracles, to crush stones, to melt 
 (255)
 
 256 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 natures that seem to be of bronze. Thus RaouFs 
 moral toilette was at this time in harmony with his 
 bodily garb. He was fitted to be and was, for the 
 Eve wearied of her paradise on Rue du Rocher, the 
 glistening, many-hued serpent, he of the honeyed 
 words, magnetic eyes and graceful motions, who 
 destroyed the first woman. As soon as the Com- 
 tesse Marie's eyes fell upon Raoul, she was con- 
 scious of an internal commotion so violent as almost 
 to terrify her. This pseudo-great man, by his 
 glance alone, exerted a physical influence upon her 
 that reached to her heart and caused a turmoil there. 
 The turmoil affected her pleasantly. The purple 
 cloak that fame threw for a moment over Nathan's 
 shoulder dazzled the guileless creature. 
 
 When the time for serving tea arrived, Marie left 
 the place where she had been sitting with several 
 ladies who were busily talking; she was disturbing 
 herself about this extraordinary being. Her silence 
 was noticed by her pretended friends. She ap- 
 proached the square divan in the centre of the salon 
 where Raoul was holding forth. She remained 
 standing, leaning on the arm of Madame Octave de 
 Camps, a dear, good woman, who never breathed 
 a word as to the involuntary trembling that betrayed 
 her intense excitement. Although the eye of a 
 woman in love or taken by surprise allows glances 
 of incredible sweetness to escape it, Raoul was dis- 
 charging at that moment a veritable shower of fire- 
 works; he was too much engrossed by his epigrams 
 which went off like bombs, by his accusations,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 257 
 
 darting hither and thither like spluttering suns, by 
 the flaming portraits he was drawing in fiery 
 strokes, to remark the artless admiration of a poor 
 little Eve, hidden in the group of women that sur- 
 rounded him. Such curiosity as theirs, the counter- 
 part of that which would cause all Paris to rush to 
 the Jardin des Plantes to see a unicorn if one should 
 be found in the famous Mountains of the Moon, still 
 untrodden by European feet, such curiosity intox- 
 icates second-rate minds as much as it saddens the 
 truly lofty-minded ; but it enchanted Raoul ; he was 
 therefore too devoted to all the ladies to be devoted 
 to a single one. 
 
 "Take care, my dear," whispered Marie's kind, 
 thoughtful companion, "you had better go." 
 
 The countess looked at her husband to ask him 
 for his arm with one of the glances husbands do not 
 always understand: Felix took her away. 
 
 "My dear boy, " said Madame d'Espard in RaouPs 
 ear, "you're a lucky rascal. You have made more 
 than one conquest to-night, and among others, the 
 charming woman who left us so abruptly." 
 
 "What do you suppose the Marquise d'Espard un- 
 dertook to tell me?" Raoul asked Blondet, repeating 
 the great lady's remark to him when they were 
 almost alone, between one and two o'clock in the 
 morning. 
 
 "Why, I heard that the Comtesse de Vandenesse 
 had fallen madly in love with you. You're not to 
 be pitied." 
 
 "I didn't see her," said Raoul. 
 17
 
 258 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "Oh! you'll see her, you rascal," said Blondet, 
 roaring with laughter. "Lady Dudley made you 
 promise to go to her great ball so that you may meet 
 her." 
 
 Raoul and Blondet left the house with Rastignac, 
 who offered them seats in his carriage. All three 
 laughed heartily at the idea of an eclectic under-sec- 
 retary of state in company with a ferocious repub- 
 lican and a political atheist 
 
 "Suppose we take supper at the expense of the 
 existing order of things?" suggested Blondet, who 
 wished to restore suppers to favor. 
 
 Rastignac took them to Very's, sent away his 
 carriage, and they took their seats around the fes- 
 tive board, analyzing society as it is to-day, and 
 laughing with Rabelaisian glee. In the course of 
 the supper, Rastignac and Blondet advised their 
 supposititious foe not to neglect such a capital oppor- 
 tunity as was offered him. The two roues gave him 
 a satirical sketch of Marie de Vandenesse's history; 
 with the scalpel of the epigram and the keen point 
 of the bon mot they dissected her innocent child- 
 hood, her happy married life. Blondet congratu- 
 lated Raoul upon having met a woman who was as 
 yet guilty of nothing worse than wretched drawings 
 in red chalk, paltry water-color landscapes, slippers 
 embroidered for her husband, and sonatas executed 
 with the purest intentions ; tied for eighteen years 
 to her mother's petticoat, preserved in religious 
 ceremonial, dressed by Vandenesse, and cooked to a 
 turn by marriage, to be tasted by love. At the third
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 259 
 
 bottle of champagne, Raoul Nathan became more 
 communicative than he had ever been with any- 
 body. 
 
 "My friends," said he, "you know my relations 
 with Florine, you know what my life is, and you 
 will not be surprised to hear my confession that I 
 have absolutely no idea of the color of a countess's 
 love. I have often felt deeply humiliated to think 
 that I could not take to myself a Beatrice or a Laura 
 except in poetry! A pure, noble woman is like an 
 unsullied conscience which shows us to ourselves in 
 attractive guise. We may sully ourselves, you 
 know ; but with such a woman we remain great and 
 proud and immaculate. We lead wild lives; but 
 with such a woman we find tranquillity and refresh- 
 ment and the verdure of the oasis." 
 
 "Come, come, my boy," said Rastignac, "give 
 us the prayer of Moses on the fourth string, a la 
 Paganini. " 
 
 Raoul sat silent, his eyes staring into vacancy. 
 
 "This low-lived minister's apprentice doesn't 
 understand me," he said, after a pause. 
 
 Thus, while the poor Eve of Rue du Rocher lay 
 between the swaddling-clothes of humiliation, ter- 
 rified at the thought of the pleasure with which she 
 had listened to this sham great poet, and hesitating 
 between the stern voice of her gratitude to Van- 
 denesse and the honeyed words of the serpent, these 
 three shameless wits were trampling on the tender, 
 white flowers of her nascent love. Ah ! if women 
 but knew what a cynical tone these men, who are
 
 260 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 so patient and wheedling in their presence, adopt 
 when they are out of sight, how they would mock 
 at what they now adore! How they tore the 
 blooming, fascinating, modest creature to pieces and 
 analyzed her in their facetious way! but what a 
 triumph for her, too! The more veils she lost, the 
 more beauties she disclosed. 
 
 Marie at that moment was comparing Raoul to 
 Felix, with no suspicion of the risk run by the heart 
 in drawing such parallels. No two men in the world 
 afforded a more striking contrast than the powerful, 
 dishevelled Raoul and Felix de Vandenesse, curled 
 and combed like any dandy, arrayed in clothes of 
 faultless cut, endowed with charming ease of man- 
 ner, a disciple of the English school of elegance to 
 which Lady Dudley had long ago admitted him. 
 Such a contrast pleases the imagination of women 
 who are sufficiently interested to pass from one ex- 
 treme to the other. The countess, a virtuous and 
 pious woman, forbade herself to think of Raoul, 
 accusing herself the next day, in her paradise, of 
 being a detestably ungrateful creature. 
 
 "What do you think of Raoul Nathan ?" she asked 
 her husband at breakfast. 
 
 "A mere sleight-of-hand performer," was the 
 count's reply; "one of those volcanoes that can be 
 made to subside with a little gold-dust. The Com- 
 tesse de Montcornet did wrong to admit him to her 
 house." 
 
 This reply was the more crushing to Marie in that 
 Felix, who was thoroughly posted in literary matters,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 26 1 
 
 supported his opinion by proofs, relating what 
 he knew of Raoul Nathan's hand-to-mouth life, 
 bound up with that of Florine, a famous actress. 
 
 "If the man has genius," he concluded, "he has 
 neither the application nor the patience which con- 
 secrate it and make it a divine thing. He tries to 
 impose upon society by placing himself on a level 
 where he can't maintain himself. Men of genuine 
 talent, studious, honorable men, don't do as he does ; 
 they go their way courageously, accept their pov- 
 erty and don't cover it up with tinsel." 
 
 A woman's mind is endowed with incredible elas- 
 ticity : when it receives a stunning blow, it bends, 
 seems utterly crushed, and soon resumes its original 
 shape. 
 
 "Felix is right, of course," the countess said to 
 herself at first 
 
 But three days later she was thinking of the ser- 
 pent once more, led back to him by the sweet, yet 
 painful emotion Raoul had awakened in her, and 
 which Vandenesse had been foolish enough never to 
 cause her to feel.
 
 The count and countess went to Lady Dudley's 
 great ball, at which De Marsay made his last ap- 
 pearance in society, for he died two months later, 
 leaving behind him the reputation of a most eminent 
 statesman, whose capacity, said Blondet, was past 
 comprehension. Vandenesse and his wife found 
 Raoul Nathan in that assemblage, which was partic- 
 ularly remarkable for the presence of several charac- 
 ters in the political drama of the day who were 
 much surprised to find themselves together. It was 
 one of the first solemn functions in high society. 
 The salons presented a magic spectacle; flowers, 
 diamonds, gorgeous headgear, all the emptied 
 jewel-cases, all the resources of the toilette brought 
 under contribution. The whole might be compared 
 to one of those artistic hothouses in which wealthy 
 horticulturists collect the loveliest exotics. Here 
 was the same brilliancy of color, the same delicacy 
 of tissue. Human handicraft seemed eager for the 
 conflict with animate works of nature. On all sides 
 were gauzes, white or colored like the wings of the 
 loveliest of dragon-flies, crgpes, laces, silks, tulles 
 as many-hued as the caprices of nature in bird-life, 
 pinked and waved and flounced, gold and silver 
 spiders' webs, waving mists of silk, flowers em- 
 broidered by fairies or brought to perfection by im- 
 prisoned genii, feathers dyed by the fierce tropical 
 (263)
 
 264 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 sun waving like weeping willows over haughty 
 heads, strings of pearls woven into mats, and dress- 
 stuffs smooth and rough and ribbed, as if the genius 
 of arabesques had acted as adviser to the French 
 manufacturers. 
 
 This magnificence was in harmony with the 
 beautiful women assembled there as if to form a 
 keepsake. The eye beheld the whitest of shoulders, 
 some of the hue of amber, others so glossy that it 
 seemed as if they must have been passed between 
 heavy cylinders, these with the sheen of satin, those 
 dead-white and plump as if Rubens had prepared 
 the paste, in fine, all the variations of white known 
 to mankind. There were eyes that sparkled like 
 the onyx or the turquoise, bordered with black velvet 
 or with a fringe of long, blonde lashes; faces of 
 many shapes which recalled the most attractive 
 types of the different countries; foreheads sublime 
 and majestic, or with a graceful outward curve as if 
 thought abounded there, or flat as if resistance un- 
 subdued were there enthroned; and then, the thing 
 that adds so much to the attractiveness of a fete 
 designed for show, there were breasts that overlay 
 each other as George IV. liked them, or separated 
 after the fashion of the eighteenth century, or with 
 a tendency to draw near each other, as Louis XV. 
 preferred them; but exhibited without shame and 
 without covering, except perhaps one of the pretty 
 little ruffled tuckers to be seen in Raphael's por- 
 traits, the triumph of his patient pupils. The pret- 
 tiest of feet itching for the dance, waists abandoned
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 265 
 
 to the waltzer's arm, gave a fillip to the attention 
 of the most indifferent. The melodious hum of 
 sweetest voices, the rustling of dresses, the murmurs 
 of the contradance, the rhythmic beat of the waltz 
 furnished a fantastic accompaniment to the music. 
 It seemed as if a fairy's wand must have called into 
 being this scene of overpowering witchery, this 
 melody of sweet odors, the lights that were reflected 
 in all the colors of the rainbow in the crystal sconces 
 where the candles twinkled, and the pictures multi- 
 plied by the mirrors. 
 
 This throng of lovely women and lovely toilettes 
 stood out in bold relief against the black mass of the 
 men, where the blonde moustaches and serious faces 
 of the English were mingled with the clean-cut, 
 refined, classic profiles of the nobles, and the gracious 
 countenances of the French aristocracy. All the 
 orders of Europe gleamed upon their breasts, hang- 
 ing about their necks, worn saltire-wise, or falling 
 at the hip. To one who closely scrutinized this 
 great assemblage, it not only presented the brilliant 
 hues of magnificent attire, it had a soul, it lived 
 and thought and felt Hidden passions imparted to 
 it features of its own : you would have seen malev- 
 olent glances exchanged, giddy, inquisitive young 
 girls in white betraying a desire, jealous women 
 wagging their evil tongues behind their fans or 
 paying one another fulsome compliments. Society, 
 bedizened, curled and perfumed, yielded to a sort of 
 festal frenzy, that went to the brain like a powerful 
 vapor. It was as if from every brain as from every
 
 266 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 heart emotions and ideas found vent, and were con- 
 densed into a solid mass which reacted upon the 
 least imaginative persons and excited them. 
 
 At the moment when the animation of this soul- 
 stirring festivity was at its height, in a corner of 
 the gilded salon where one or two bankers, ambas- 
 sadors, former ministers, and wicked old Lord Dud- 
 ley, whose presence was accidental, were playing 
 cards, Madame Felix de Vandenesse was irresistibly 
 impelled to enter into conversation with Nathan. 
 It may be that she fell a victim to the ball-room in- 
 toxication which has often extorted confessions from 
 the most discreet women. 
 
 At the sight of this festive throng and the splen- 
 dors of a world to which he had never before been 
 admitted, Nathan's ambition redoubled and gnawed 
 at his heart. When he looked upon Rastignac, 
 whose younger brother had just been appointed 
 bishop at twenty-seven years of age, whose brother- 
 in-law, Martial de la Roche-Hugon, was in the min- 
 istry, and who was himself an under-secretary of 
 state and was to marry, so rumor had it, the Baron 
 de Nucingen's only daughter ; when he saw in the 
 diplomatic corps, an unknown scribbler who trans- 
 lated foreign newspapers for a journal that had come 
 over to the new dynasty in 1830; when he saw 
 editorial writers admitted to the Council of State, 
 professors made peers of France, he sadly concluded 
 that he was on the wrong tack preaching the over- 
 throw of this aristocracy where fortunate talents 
 shone, and discretion crowned by success, and
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 267 
 
 genuine superiority. Blondet, who was so unfortu- 
 nate, so thoroughly worked out in journalism, but so 
 well received at that house he could still, if he chose, 
 make a fresh start on the road to fortune as a re- 
 sult of his liaison with Madame de Montcornet was 
 in Nathan's eyes a striking example of the power 
 of social connections. Deep down in his heart he 
 determined to snap his fingers at opinions after the 
 fashion of the De Marsays, Rastignacs and Blondets, 
 and of Talleyrand, the leader of the sect ; to accept 
 nothing but facts; to twist them to serve his own 
 purposes, to see in every scheme a weapon, and not 
 to disturb so well-constituted, attractive and natural 
 a society. 
 
 "My future," he said to himself, "depends upon 
 a woman who belongs to this circle." 
 
 Acting upon this thought, conceived in the flames 
 of a frenzied desire, he fell upon the Comtesse de 
 Vandenesse like a vulture upon its prey. The 
 charming creature, so pretty in her headdress of 
 marabou feathers which produced the deliciously 
 soft effect of Lawrence's paintings, quite in harmony 
 with her sweet disposition, was carried away by 
 the ambition-mad poet's seething energy. Lady 
 Dudley, whom nothing escaped, shielded this epi- 
 sode by handing the Comte de Vandenesse over to 
 Madame de Manerville. This lady, strong in her 
 former ascendancy, steered Felix out upon the broad 
 waters of a quarrel accompanied with much entice- 
 ment, with whispered confidences embellished by 
 blushes, with regrets shrewdly tossed at his feet
 
 268 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 like flowers, and with recriminations whereby she 
 put herself in the right for the sake of being put in 
 the wrong. These two disunited lovers spoke for 
 the first time from ear to ear. 
 
 While her husband's former mistress was digging 
 among the ashes of extinct pleasures, trying to find 
 a few live coals there, Madame Felix de Vandenesse 
 was experiencing the violent palpitations of the heart 
 caused by a woman's certainty that she is doing 
 wrong and is treading on forbidden ground : emo- 
 tions which are not without charm and which 
 awaken many slumbering powers. To-day, as in 
 the tale of Bluebeard, all women love to use the 
 blood-stained key; a magnificent mythological idea, 
 one of the glories of Perrault. 
 
 The sorry dramatist, who knew his Shakespeare 
 thoroughly, unfolded his wretchedness, described 
 his struggle with men and things, hinted at his 
 baseless greatness, his unsuspected genius for poli- 
 tics, his life which contained no lofty sentiment. 
 Without expressing it in words, he suggested to this 
 charming creature the idea of playing for him the 
 sublime role played by Rebecca in hanhoe : of lov- 
 ing and shielding him. The whole interview was 
 carried on in the ethereal regions of sentiment. The 
 myosotis is no bluer, the lily is no purer, the brow 
 of the seraph no fairer than were the images, the 
 words and the animated, radiant brow of this artist, 
 who might have sent his conversation to his pub- 
 lisher. He played his role of reptile to perfection, 
 he dangled before the countess's eyes the brilliant
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 269 
 
 colors of the fatal apple. Marie left the ball suffer- 
 ing from remorse that was akin to hope, tickled by 
 compliments that flattered her vanity, moved to 
 the deepest recesses of her heart, entrapped by her 
 very virtues, seduced by her pity for misfortune. 
 
 Perhaps Madame de Manerville had guided Van- 
 denesse to the salon where his wife was talking 
 with Nathan ; perhaps he had been there of his own 
 motion, looking for Marie to take her home; per- 
 haps his conversation had given new life to deadened 
 chagrin. However that may be, when she went to 
 him to ask him for his arm, his wife found him in 
 a reverie, with clouded brow. The countess feared 
 that she had been seen. As soon as she was alone 
 in the carriage with Felix, she bestowed her most 
 coaxing smile upon him and said : 
 
 "Weren't you talking with Madame de Maner- 
 ville, my dear?" 
 
 Felix had not emerged from the underbrush into 
 which his wife led him by a delicious little quarrel 
 on that theme when the carriage drove into their 
 courtyard. It was the first stratagem dictated by 
 love. Marie was overjoyed with her triumph over 
 the man who had hitherto seemed so superior to her. 
 She tasted the first thrill of delight afforded by in- 
 dispensable success.
 
 In a passageway between Rue Basse-du-Rempart 
 and Rue Neuve-des-Mathurins, on the third floor of 
 a narrow, ugly house, Raoul had a small, comfortless, 
 bare, uninviting suite of rooms, where his home was 
 for the general public, for literary neophytes, for his 
 creditors, and for the different varieties of pests and 
 bores who should be kept at the threshold of a man's 
 private life. His real domicile, the scene of his 
 grandeur, the stage upon which he acted, was at 
 Mademoiselle Florine's, a second-rate actress to 
 whom Nathan's friends, certain newspapers and 
 some few authors had for ten years past awarded a 
 place among illustrious artists. For ten years Raoul 
 had been so closely attached to this woman that he 
 passed half his life with her; he took his meals 
 there, when he had no friend to entertain and no 
 invitation to dine out 
 
 Florine combined absolutely corrupt morals with 
 exquisite wit, which constant intercourse with 
 artists had developed, and which became keener 
 every day. Wit is supposed to be a rare accom- 
 plishment among actors. It is so natural to suppose 
 that people who spend their lives displaying every- 
 thing on the outside have nothing within ! But, if 
 we consider the small number of actors and actresses 
 in every generation, and the multitude of dramatic 
 authors and fascinating women these people have 
 (271)
 
 272 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 furnished, it is easy to refute that opinion, which is 
 founded upon a criticism everlastingly made upon 
 dramatic artists, who are charged, one and all, with 
 losing sight of their personal feelings in the mechan- 
 ical expression of the passions, whereas they really 
 employ no other forces than those of wit, memory 
 and imagination. Great artists, as Napoleon said, 
 are beings who intercept at will the communication 
 established by nature between the feelings and the 
 thought. Moliere and Talma in their old age were 
 more amorous than the average man. Compelled to 
 listen to journalists who divine everything by cal- 
 culation, to authors who foresee and talk about 
 everything, and to watch certain political charac- 
 ters, who made the most of every sally he heard 
 in her salon, Florine presented a combination of 
 angel and devil which made her worthy to receive 
 these roues ; she enchanted them by her sang-froid. 
 Her abnormal qualities of mind and heart pleased 
 them beyond description. Her house, enriched by 
 tributes from her lovers, was furnished with the ex- 
 aggerated magnificence characteristic of women who 
 care little for the price of things, but only for the 
 things themselves, and estimate their value by their 
 caprice; who in a fit of rage shatter a fan or a vin- 
 aigrette a queen might envy, and raise an uproar if 
 you break a porcelain dish worth ten francs, out of 
 which their little dogs lap. 
 
 Her dining-room, filled to overflowing with the 
 choicest offerings, will serve to convey an idea 
 of the chaotic aspect of this disdainful, royal
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 273 
 
 magnificence. Everywhere, even on the ceiling, 
 was a carved wainscoting of natural oak, relieved 
 by mouldings of unburnished gold, the panels framed 
 with children playing with chimeras, in which lights 
 twinkled, shining here upon a sketch by Decamps, 
 there upon a plaster angel holding a b'enitier pre- 
 sented by Antonin Moine ; farther on, a dainty pic- 
 ture by Eugene Deveria, the sombre figure of a 
 Spanish alchemist by Louis Boulanger, an auto- 
 graph letter from Lord Byron to Caroline in an 
 ebony frame carved by Elschoet; opposite, a letter 
 from Napoleon to Josephine. All this arranged 
 with no attempt at symmetry, but with impercep- 
 tible art One's wits were taken by surprise, as it 
 were. There was a touch of coquetry and a free- 
 and-easy air, two qualities which are found together 
 only in an artist's quarters. Upon the beautifully 
 carved wooden mantel-piece there was nothing but 
 a curious Florentine statue of ivory, attributed to 
 Michael-Angelo, representing an ourang-outang 
 finding a woman in the dress of a young shepherd, 
 the original of which is in the Treasury at Vienna; 
 on each side were torch-holders carved by some 
 chisel of the Renaissance. A Boule clock, upon a 
 tortoise-shell pedestal incrusted with arabesques of 
 copper, glistened in the centre of a panel, between 
 two statuettes escaped from some dismantled abbey. 
 In the corners, lamps of regal magnificence burned 
 upon their pedestals; with them some manufacturer 
 had paid for a few sonorous commonplaces as to 
 the necessity of having lamps perfectly fitted to 
 
 18
 
 274 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 Japanese vases. Upon a marvelous 'etagbre was 
 paraded a valuable service of plate doughtily won in 
 battle where some English lord had acknowledged 
 the ascendancy of the French nation ; there too, were 
 porcelain ornaments with raised figures; in fine, the 
 exquisite luxury of the artist who has no other cap- 
 ital than her furniture. 
 
 The violet chamber was like the dream of a bal- 
 let-dancer at her debut; velvet curtains lined with 
 satin, draped over a misty veil of tulle; ceiling of 
 white cashmere with raised figures in violet satin ; 
 at the foot of the bed a rug of ermine; in the bed, 
 whose curtains were like a lily turned upside down, 
 was a lantern by which to read the newspapers 
 before the public saw them. A yellow salon, em- 
 bellished with ornaments of the color of Florentine 
 bronze, was in perfect harmony with all this 
 splendor ; but an exact description would make these 
 pages resemble the announcement of a sale by 
 judicial decree. To find the like of all these lovely 
 things one must have gone a few steps away, to 
 Rothschild's. 
 
 Sophie Grignoult, christened Florine by a process 
 of baptism not unusual on the stage, made her first 
 appearances at second-rate theatres, notwithstand- 
 ing her beauty. Her success and her fortune she 
 owed to Raoul Nathan. The close association of 
 these two destinies, which is not of rare occurrence in 
 the dramatic and literary world, in no way injured 
 Raoul, who observed the proprieties like a man of 
 excellent judgment. But there was no stability to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 275 
 
 Florine's fortune. Her uncertain income depended 
 upon her engagements and her vacations, and barely 
 paid for her clothes and her housekeeping. Nathan 
 contributed some small sums levied upon new in- 
 dustrial enterprises; but, although he was always 
 gallant to her and took care of her, there was noth- 
 ing regular or certain about his patronage. This 
 uncertainty, this life in the air, did not terrify Flo- 
 rine. Florine believed in her talent, she believed 
 in her beauty. Her robust faith had something 
 comical in it to those who heard her mortgage her 
 future thereon when they ventured to remonstrate 
 with her. 
 
 "I shall have rentes when it suits my pleasure to 
 have them, " she would say. "I have fifty francs 
 in the funds already." 
 
 No one understood how she could have been 
 neglected for seven years, lovely as she was; but 
 the fact is that Florine was enrolled as a super- 
 numerary at thirteen, and made her debut at an ob- 
 scure theatre on the boulevards two years later. At 
 fifteen, neither beauty nor talent exists; a woman is 
 all promise. At the time of which we are writing 
 she was twenty-eight, the age at which a French 
 woman's beauty is at its height. What painters 
 noticed first of all about Florine was a pair of glossy 
 shoulders, with an olive tinge about the base of the 
 neck, but hard and smooth; the light was reflected 
 in them as in watered silk. When she turned her 
 head, magnificent folds, the admiration of sculptors, 
 were formed in her neck. Upon that magnificent
 
 276 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 neck was perched the little head of a Roman empress, 
 the well-poised, graceful, delicate, wilful head of 
 Poppaea, intelligent, regular features, the smooth 
 brow of the unreflecting woman who banishes care, 
 but who can also be as obstinate as a mule and at 
 such times will listen to nothing. This brow of 
 hers, which seemed to have been fashioned with a 
 single blow of the chisel, displayed to the best ad- 
 vantage her lovely chestnut hair which was almost 
 always raised in front in two masses of equal 
 height, d, la Romaine, and arranged in a knot behind 
 the head to give the head an appearance of greater 
 length, and to relieve the whiteness of the neck by 
 its color. Delicate black eyebrows, drawn by some 
 Chinese painter, framed a pair of soft eyes with a 
 network of pink blood vessels. Her pupils, blazing 
 with vivid light, but marked with brown stripes like 
 a tiger's skin, gave to her glance the cruel fixity of 
 a wild beast's, and revealed the cool cunning of the 
 courtesan. Her adorable gazelle-like eyes were of 
 a beautiful gray, fringed with long black lashes, a 
 charming contrast which made still more apparent 
 their expression of watchful, calm licentiousness; 
 there were black rings that told of weariness; but 
 the artistic way in which she could roll the pupil 
 into the corner or to the top of her eye, to watch or 
 to assume an air of meditation, her manner of keep- 
 ing it perfectly still and causing it to gleam its 
 brightest without moving her head or disturbing the 
 immobility of her countenance a trick learned on 
 the stage and the animation of her gaze when it
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 277 
 
 seemed to embrace a whole great hall as she looked 
 about in search of some person, made hers the most 
 terrible, the softest and the most extraordinary eyes 
 in the world. Rouge had destroyed the delicious, 
 transparent coloring of her cheeks, whose flesh was 
 very delicate; but, if she could no longer blush or 
 turn pale, she had a slender nose, intersected by 
 passionate pink nostrils, made expressly to express 
 the irony and the mockery of Moliere's servants. 
 Her sensual, dissipated mouth was embellished by 
 the ridges of the furrow that attached the upper lip 
 to the nose. Her white chin, somewhat coarse in 
 outline, indicated the violence of her passions. Her 
 hands and arms were worthy of a queen. But she 
 had the short, thick foot which is an indelible sign 
 of obscure birth. Never did inheritance cause more 
 anxiety. Florine had tried everything, except am- 
 putation, to change it Her feet were as obstinate 
 as the Bretons to whom she owed her birth ; they 
 resisted all the professors, all varieties of treatment 
 She wore long shoes stuffed with cotton inside to 
 make it appear that she had a curving instep. She 
 was of medium height, threatened with obesity, but 
 erect and well-made. 
 
 Morally speaking, she was thoroughly at home in 
 all the pretty tricks and petty quarrels, the condi- 
 ments and sweetmeats of her trade ; she imparted a 
 particularly delicious flavor to them when she 
 played the child and interjected bits of mischievous 
 philosophy in the midst of her innocent laughter. 
 Apparently ignorant and frivolous, she was very
 
 278 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 strong in figures and in all the details of commercial 
 jurisprudence. She had gone through so much 
 misery before the dawning of her precarious success ! 
 She knew life in all its forms, from that which be- 
 gins with Brie cheese to that which toys disdain- 
 fully with pineapple fritters; from that which 
 cooks and washes in the chimney-corner of an attic 
 with a clay oven to that which convokes the ban 
 and arriere-ban of pot-bellied chefs and impudent 
 scullions. She had kept her credit in repair with- 
 out killing it. She knew all about the things that 
 honest women know nothing of, she spoke all lan- 
 guages; she was of the common people by virtue of 
 her experience, and noble by virtue of her distin- 
 guished beauty. It was difficult to take her by sur- 
 prise, for she always imagined everything, as a spy 
 does, or a judge, or an old statesman, and thus was 
 able to see into everything. She knew what 
 method to adopt with tradespeople and their wiles, 
 she knew the value of things as well as a profes- 
 sional appraiser. When she was stretched out in 
 her long chair, like a fair and blooming young bride, 
 holding her lines in her hand and committing them 
 to memory, you would have said she was a child of 
 sixteen, artless and ignorant and weak, without 
 other artifice than her innocence. But let an impor- 
 tunate creditor appear, she would sit up like a 
 startled fawn and swear a good round oath. 
 
 "Look here, my dear man! your impertinence is 
 a high rate of interest to pay for the money I owe 
 you," she would say; "I'm tired of seeing you;
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 279 
 
 send me some bailiffs, I prefer them to your idiotic 
 face." 
 
 Florine gave delightful dinners, concerts, and very 
 popular evening parties, where the gambling was 
 fast and furious. Her friends of her own sex were 
 all beautiful. No old woman was ever seen under 
 her roof; she was an entire stranger to jealousy and 
 looked upon it as an admission of inferiority. She 
 had known Coral ie and La Torpille, she knew the 
 Tullias, Euphrasie, the Aquilinas, Madame du Val- 
 Noble, Mariette, the women who pass through 
 Paris like the white threads that float about in the 
 air, nor does anyone know whence they come nor 
 whither they go queens to-day, slaves to-morrow ; 
 and the actresses too, her rivals, and the singers, in 
 short, all the unconventional female society, good- 
 humored, and attractive in its recklessness, whose 
 Bohemian existence absorbs all those who allow 
 themselves to be drawn into the mad whirl of its 
 impetuosity and fervor and its contempt for the 
 future. Although the Bohemian mode of life with 
 all its lack of order held sway in her house, en- 
 couraged by the cheery laughter of the actress, the 
 queen of the salon had ten fingers of her own and 
 knew how to count better than any of her guests. 
 There, were held the secret saturnalia of literature 
 and art combined with politics and finance. There 
 desire reigned supreme; there, spleen and caprice 
 were held as sacred as honor and virtue in a bour- 
 geois household. Thither came Blondet, Finot, 
 E*tienne Lousteau, her seventh lover and supposed
 
 280 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 to be the first, Felicien Vernou, the newspaper 
 writer, Couture, Bixiou, Rastignac at an earlier 
 period, Claude Vignon the critic, Nucingen the 
 banker, Du Tillet, Conti the composer, in brief, 
 the whole devil-ridden legion of the most pitiless 
 schemers of every sort; then there were the friends 
 of the singers, dancers and actresses whom Florine 
 knew. All these people loved or hated one another 
 according to circumstances. This house of common 
 resort, where celebrity in some direction was suffi- 
 cient to entitle any one to admission, was, as it 
 were, the brothel of wit, the galleys of intelligence; 
 no one could enter there who had not stolen his for- 
 tune by legal means, or lived through ten years of 
 poverty, or slaughtered two or three passions, or 
 acquired celebrity of some sort by his books or his 
 waistcoats, by a drama or a handsome turnout. 
 Base plots were hatched there and ways of making 
 money eagerly sought ; they laughed at the emeutes 
 they had fomented the day before, and weighed 
 the chances of a rise or fall in the funds. Every 
 man, on leaving the house, resumed the livery of 
 his opinions ; but there he could, without compro- 
 mising himself, criticize his own party, admit the 
 science and skilful play of his opponents, formulate 
 thoughts which no one avows say anything, in 
 short, with the air of a man who could do anything. 
 Paris is the only place in the world where such 
 eclectic houses as this exist, houses where every 
 taste, every vice, every opinion is made welcome 
 with an appearance of decency. It cannot be said
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 281 
 
 either, that Florine is still a second-rate actress. 
 Her life is not an idle life or to be envied. Many 
 people, misled by the magnificent pedestal upon 
 which the stage places a woman, fancy that her life 
 is as joyous as a perpetual carnival. In many a 
 porter's lodge, under the eaves of more than one 
 attic, poor creatures, returning from the play, dream 
 of pearls and diamonds, of dresses covered with gold 
 and gorgeous stomachers ; they seem to see them- 
 selves with jewels shining in their hair, they fancy 
 themselves applauded, purchased, worshiped, re- 
 moved from their surroundings; but they know 
 nothing of the realities of this life of a riding-school 
 horse, in which the actress is required to attend 
 rehearsals under penalty of a fine, to listen to the 
 reading of plays, and constantly to study new parts, 
 at a time when two or three hundred plays a year 
 are produced in Paris. Florine has to change her 
 costume two or three times during every perform- 
 ance, and is often completely exhausted, half-dead, 
 when she returns to her dressing-room. Then she 
 is obliged to remove the red or white paint by pro- 
 fuse applications of cosmetic, and to wash off the 
 powder if she has been playing an eighteenth-cen- 
 tury part She has hardly had time to dine. 
 When she is playing, an actress can neither dress, 
 nor eat, nor speak. Florine no longer has time for 
 supper-parties. When she returns home after one 
 of the performances which, in these days of ours, 
 end the next day, has not she to make her toilette 
 for the night and to give her orders for the morrow ?
 
 282 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 After going to bed at one or two o'clock in the 
 morning, she must rise sufficiently early to look over 
 her lines, select her costumes, explain them and try 
 them on; then breakfast, read her billets-doux, 
 answer them, labor with the contractors for applause, 
 to be sure that her entrees and exits are properly 
 looked after, and pay for the triumphs of the past 
 month while purchasing in bulk those of the month 
 now current In the time of Saint-Genest a canon- 
 ized actor, who fulfilled his religious duties and 
 wore a hair-shirt, it is fair to suppose that the stage 
 did not demand such ferocious activity. Florine is 
 often obliged to say she is sick in order to be able 
 to go into the country, bourgeois fashion, to pick 
 wild flowers. But these purely mechanical occupa- 
 tions are nothing at all in comparison with the 
 scheming to be carried on, the mortifications of 
 wounded vanity, the preferences accorded by 
 authors, r61es taken away or forced upon one, the 
 exacting demands of actors, the malice of a rival, 
 the fusillade of managers and newspaper critics who 
 demand that two days' work be done in one. Hith- 
 erto there has been no thought of art, of the expres- 
 sion of the passions, of the details of the mimic art, 
 of the essential requirements of the stage, where 
 the blemishes that mar every manifestation of 
 splendor are revealed by thousands of opera-glasses, 
 requirements that Talma, Lekain, Baron, Contat, 
 Clairon, Champmesle devoted their thoughts and 
 their lives to satisfying. In those infernal wings, 
 self-esteem has no sex; the triumphant artist,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 283 
 
 man or woman, finds men and women against 
 him. 
 
 As regards fortune, though Florine could command 
 a reasonably large salary, it did not cover the cost 
 of her stage toilette, which, to say nothing of cos- 
 tumes, required an enormous supply of shoes and 
 long gloves, and included both evening dresses and 
 street dresses. One-third of an actress's life is 
 passed in begging, another in maintaining herself, 
 and the last in defending herself: it is all work. If 
 happiness is enjoyed with great gusto when it comes 
 to such lives, it is because it is stolen, as it were, 
 rarely attained, long hoped for, and found at last by 
 chance amid hateful counterfeited pleasures and 
 smiles at the pit 
 
 To Florine, Raoul's power was like a protecting 
 sceptre: he spared her much ennui and much 
 anxiety, as the great nobles did for their mistresses 
 in the old days, and like some old men to-day, who 
 run and throw themselves at the feet of the critics 
 when a word in some petty newspaper has alarmed 
 their idol. She clung to him more than to a lover, 
 she clung to him as to a pillar of strength, she cared 
 for him as if he were her father, she deceived him 
 as if he were her husband ; but she would have sac- 
 rificed all for him. Raoul could do everything for 
 her vanity as an actress, for the tranquillity of her 
 self-esteem, for her future on the stage. Without 
 the intervention of a great author, no great actress ; 
 we owed Champmesle to Racine, as we owed Mars 
 to Monvel and Andrieux. Florine could do nothing
 
 284 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 for Raoul, but she would have been very glad to be 
 useful or necessary to him. She relied upon the 
 allurements of habit, she was always ready to open 
 her salons, to display all her magnificence for his 
 friends or in aid of his projects. In short, she 
 aspired to be to him what Madame de Pompa- 
 dour was to Louis XV. Other actresses envied 
 Florine's position just as certain newspaper men 
 envied Raoul's. 
 
 Now, those who have observed the inclination of 
 the human mind toward contrasts and contraries, 
 will understand how it was that after ten years of 
 this disorderly Bohemian existence, full of ups and 
 downs, of feasts and executions for debt, of sobriety 
 and orgies, Raoul was irresistibly attracted toward 
 a pure, chaste passion, toward the peaceful and har- 
 monious abode of a great lady, just as the Comtesse 
 Felix longed to introduce the torments of passion 
 into her life, which had become monotonous by vir- 
 tue of its abounding happiness. This law of life is 
 the law of all the arts, which exist only by con- 
 trasts. A work accomplished without that resource 
 is the supreme expression of genius, as the cloister 
 is the greatest effort of the Christian.
 
 Upon returning home, Raoul found a short note 
 from Florine, brought by her maid, but an uncon- 
 querable desire to sleep prevented him from read- 
 ing it; he sought his couch, filled with delicious 
 thoughts of the fresh, sweet love that was lacking 
 in his life. Some hours later he read in that note 
 important news which neither De Marsay nor Ras- 
 tignac had divulged. The actress had learned 
 from an indiscreet remark that the Chamber was to 
 be dissolved after the session. 
 
 Raoul went at once to Florine's and sent for 
 Blondet In the actress's boudoir, Raoul andEmile, 
 with their feet on the andirons, analyzed the politi- 
 cal situation in France in 1834. On which side 
 was the best opportunity for making one's fortune? 
 They passed in review the pure republicans, the 
 republicans who would have a president, the repub- 
 licans without a republic, the constitutionals with- 
 out a dynasty, the constitutionals with a dynasty, 
 ministerial conservatives, ministerial absolutists; 
 from these they passed to the Right favoring con- 
 cessions, the aristocratic Right, the legitimist, Henri 
 V. Right, the Car list Right. As between the party 
 of resistance and the party of progress, it was im- 
 possible to hesitate: it would have been as sensible 
 to discuss the respective merits of life and death. 
 (285)
 
 286 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 At this time, a multitude of newspapers, estab- 
 lished to suit every possible shade of opinion, were 
 crying out against the horrible political hurly-burly, 
 called gachis mess by a soldier. Blondet, the most 
 judicious mind of the age, but judicious in the inter- 
 ests of others always, never in his own, like those 
 advocates who manage their own business badly, 
 was sublime in such private discussions as this. 
 He advised Nathan not to change sides abruptly. 
 
 "Napoleon said that young republics aren't made 
 with old monarchies. So, my dear fellow, become 
 the hero, the mainstay, the creator of the Left Cen- 
 tre in the Chamber that is to be, and you'll get 
 ahead in politics. Once admitted, once in the gov- 
 ernment, you are whatever you choose to be, you 
 hold every opinion that prevails!" 
 
 Nathan decided to found a daily newspaper de- 
 voted to politics, to be the absolute master of it, to 
 attach to it one of the small newspapers in which 
 the press abounds, and to establish connections with 
 a review. The press had been the means of mak- 
 ing so many fortunes among his acquaintances that 
 he paid no heed to the advice Blondet gave him, not 
 to trust to it. Blondet declared that it was a 
 wretched speculation, the number of newspapers 
 fighting for subscribers at that time was so great, 
 and the press seemed to him to be such a worn out 
 weapon. Raoul, relying upon his pretended friend- 
 ships and his courage, rushed boldly into the 
 scheme; he rose to his feet with a burst of pride 
 and said :
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 287 
 
 "I shall succeed!" 
 
 "You haven't a sou!" 
 
 "I'll write a drama !" 
 
 "It will fail." 
 
 "Very good, it shall fail," said Nathan. 
 
 He made the circuit of Florine's apartment, fol- 
 lowed by Blondet, who believed him mad; then he 
 glanced with a covetous eye at the wealth that was 
 piled up there ; Blondet understood him. 
 
 "There's a hundred thousand francs and more 
 here," said he. 
 
 "Yes, " said Raoul sighing, as he stood by Florine's 
 sumptuous bed; "but I would prefer to pass the rest 
 of my life peddling knickknacks on the boulevards 
 and live on fried potatoes, than sell a single cup out 
 of this room." 
 
 "Not a cup," said Blondet, "but everything! 
 Ambition is like death, it must lay its hand on every- 
 thing, for it knows that life is close at its heels." 
 
 "No! a hundred times no! I would accept any- 
 thing from my countess of yesterday, but to steal 
 Florine's shell ?" 
 
 "Pull down her mint," said Blondet with a tragic 
 air, "smash the dies and stamps that's a serious 
 matter." 
 
 "As far as I can understand, you propose to go 
 into politics instead of sticking to the theatre," 
 said Florine, suddenly making her appearance. 
 
 "Yes, my girl, yes, "said Raoul good-humoredly, 
 putting his arm around her neck and kissing her on 
 the forehead. "What! you pout? Shall you lose
 
 288 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 anything by it? won't the minister be better able 
 than the journalist to get the queen of the boards a 
 good engagement? Won't you have plenty of parts 
 and plenty of vacations?" 
 
 "Where'll you get the money?" said she. 
 
 "At my uncle's," Raoul replied. 
 
 Florine knew Raoul's uncle. That word symbol- 
 ized the usurer, as aunt, in vulgar parlance, signifies 
 pawnbroker. 
 
 "Don't you disturb yourself, my little jewel," 
 said Blondet, tapping Florine on the shoulder, "I'll 
 get Massol to help him, an advocate who, like all 
 advocates, wants to be keeper of the seals for a day, 
 Du Til let, who wants to be a deputy, Finot, who is 
 still at the helm of a small newspaper, and Plantin, 
 who wants to be master of requests and is dabbling 
 in a review. Yes, I will save him from himself; 
 we'll have Etienne Lousteau here and get him to 
 write the literary article, and Claude Vignon for 
 critic ; Felicien Vernou will be the managing woman 
 of the paper, the advocate will work, Du Tillet will 
 look after the Bourse and business matters, and 
 we'll see where all these strong wills and all these 
 slaves united will bring us." 
 
 "To the insane asylum or the ministry, where all 
 those who are ruined in body or mind bring up," 
 said Raoul. 
 
 "When will you settle matters with them?" 
 
 "Here," said Raoul, "five days hence." 
 
 "You must tell me what amount of money you 
 will need," said Florine simply.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 289 
 
 "Why, the advocate and Du Tillet and Raoul 
 can't go into the thing without a hundred thousand 
 francs each," said Blondet "The paper will go on 
 then for eighteen months, the time it takes a man 
 to rise or fall here in Paris." 
 
 Florine gave a little nod of approbation. The 
 two friends took a cab to kidnap associates, pens, 
 brains and interests. The fair actress meanwhile 
 sent for four wealthy dealers in furniture, curiosi- 
 ties, pictures and jewels. These men entered the 
 sanctuary and inventoried everything therein con- 
 tained, as if Florine were dead. She threatened 
 them with a sale at public auction in case they 
 should do violence to their consciences in expecta- 
 tion of a better opportunity. She had made an im- 
 pression, she told them, upon an English nobleman 
 by her acting in a play of the Middle Ages, and 
 wanted to get rid of all her movable wealth in order 
 to make him think she was poor and induce him to 
 give her a magnificent house which she would fur- 
 nish in a way to rival Rothschild. But in spite of 
 all she could do to inveigle them, they would give 
 her only seventy thousand francs for the whole lot, 
 which was worth a hundred and fifty thousand. 
 Florine, who would not have given two sous for it, 
 agreed to deliver it all in a week's time for eighty 
 thousand. 
 
 "You can take it or leave it," said she. 
 
 The bargain was concluded. When the trades- 
 men had decamped, Florine leaped for joy like the 
 little hills of King David. She cut a thousand 
 19
 
 2Cp A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 capers, for she had no idea she was so rich. When 
 Raoul returned, she pretended to be angry with him. 
 She said that she had thought it over, and that he 
 had deserted her ; men didn't go from one party to 
 another, nor from the stage to the Chamber without 
 a motive; she had a rival! How unerring is in- 
 stinct! She made him swear eternal love to her. 
 Five days later, she gave the most splendid ban- 
 quet imaginable. The new journal was baptized 
 under her roof in oceans of wine and jests, of oaths 
 of fidelity, of good-fellowship and serious co-ope- 
 ration. The name, forgotten to-day as are the 
 Liberal, the Communal, the Departemental, the 
 Garde National, the Federal, the Impartial, was 
 something ending in al, which was destined to be 
 very ephemeral. 
 
 After the numerous descriptions of orgies which 
 marked this literary era so few of which took 
 place in the attics where they were written it is a 
 difficult matter to describe this one of Florine's. A 
 single word only. At three o'clock in the morning, 
 Florine was able to undress and go to bed as if she 
 were alone, although no one had gone away. All 
 these lights of the age were sleeping like beasts. 
 When the packers and porters and draymen arrived, 
 early in the morning, to remove all the famous 
 actress's magnificence, she laughed heartily as she 
 saw them lift up these celebrities like heavy pieces 
 of furniture and deposit them on the floor. Thus all 
 the lovely things vanished. Florine banished all 
 her souvenirs to the warerooms, where no passer-by
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 29 1 
 
 could tell from their appearance where or how those 
 flowers of luxury had been paid for. By agreement, 
 certain specified things were left with Florine until 
 evening; her bed, and her table and crockery, so that 
 she could give her guests their breakfast Having 
 fallen asleep under the luxurious canopy of wealth 
 the famous wits awoke surrounded by the cold, dis- 
 mantled walls of poverty, covered with the marks 
 of nails and disfigured by the odd, incongruous 
 things that collect behind hangings like the ropes 
 and cords behind the decorations at the opera. 
 
 "Why, Florine, the poor girl's had an execution 
 in here!" cried Bixiou, one of the revellers. 
 "Hands in your pockets! a subscription!" 
 
 As he spoke, the whole party leaped to their feet 
 All their pockets turned inside out produced thirty- 
 seven francs, which Raoul jocosely handed to the 
 smiling hostess. The happy courtesan raised her 
 head from her pillow, and pointed to the coverlid 
 where there was a pile of banknotes, as thick as in 
 the days when a courtesan's pillow was worth as 
 much a year, good years and bad. 
 
 Raoul called Blondet 
 
 "I understand," said the latter. "The rascal 
 levied on herself without saying a word. Well 
 done, my little angel!" 
 
 This exploit caused the actress to be carried in 
 triumph, en deshabille as she was, to the dining- 
 room by the few friends who remained. The advo- 
 cate and the bankers had taken their leave. That 
 evening, Florine had a dazzling triumph at the
 
 2Q2 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 theatre. The story of her sacrifice had spread 
 through the hall. 
 
 "I should rather be applauded for my talent," her 
 rival said to her in the green-room. 
 
 "That's a very natural desire for an artist who 
 has never been applauded as yet for anything but 
 her good-nature," she retorted. 
 
 During the evening, Florine's maid had moved 
 her belongings to Raoul's apartment on Passage 
 Sandrie. The journalist was to take up his quar- 
 ters in the house where the offices of the newspaper 
 had been opened.
 
 Such was the rival of the chaste and pure Madame 
 de Vandenesse. Raoul's caprice bound the actress 
 and the countess together as with a ring: a ghastly 
 bond which a duchess severed, in the days of Louis 
 XV., by causing Adrienne Lecouvreur to be 
 poisoned, a sweet revenge easily understood when 
 one considers the enormity of the offence. 
 
 Florine did not interfere with the early stages of 
 Raoul's passion. She anticipated financial compli- 
 cations in the difficult undertaking on which he had 
 embarked, and applied for a furlough of six months. 
 Raoul conducted the negotiation for her with great 
 ardor and achieved success in a way to make him 
 still dearer to Florine. With the good sense of the 
 peasant in La Fontaine's fable, who makes sure of 
 his dinner while his betters are thinking about it, 
 the actress went into the provinces and abroad to 
 secure the ducats, in order to support the famous 
 man while he was on the hunt for power. 
 
 Hitherto but few painters have attacked the sub- 
 ject of love as it exists in the more exalted social 
 spheres, abounding in grandeur and secret misery, 
 terrible in its desires defeated by the most absurd, 
 most commmonplace accidents, and often ship- 
 wrecked by weariness. Perhaps we may catch a 
 few glimpses of it here. 
 
 On the day following Lady Dudley's ball, 
 (293)
 
 294 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 although not a word in the nature of the most timid 
 declaration had been spoken on either side, Marie 
 believed that Raoul loved her, according to the 
 tenor of her dreams, and Raoul knew that Marie had 
 chosen him for her lover. Although neither of them 
 had arrived at that advanced stage at which men 
 and women alike cut short the preliminaries, they 
 were both making rapid progress toward the goal. 
 Raoul, surfeited with pleasure, was bound for an 
 ideal world; while Marie, who was as far removed 
 as possible from the thought of sinning, did not 
 dream that she could leave that world behind her. 
 Thus there never was a passion more innocent and 
 purer, in fact, than the love of Raoul and Marie; 
 nor was there ever one more ardent or more delight- 
 ful in anticipation. The countess's mind was filled 
 with ideas suited to the days of chivalry, but com- 
 pletely modernized. In the spirit of her role, her 
 husband's antipathy for Nathan ceased to be an 
 obstacle to her love. The less deserving of esteem 
 Raoul had proved to be, the grander she would 
 have been. The poet's perfervid conversation had 
 wakened more of an echo in her breast than in her 
 heart. Charity was aroused by the voice of desire. 
 That queen of all the virtues almost justified in the 
 countess's eyes the emotions, the joys, the violent 
 impulses of love. She thought it was a glorious 
 thing to be a sort of human Providence to Raoul. 
 What a sweet thought! to sustain with her feeble 
 white hand this colossus whose feet of clay she 
 would not see, to supply life where it was lacking,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 295 
 
 to be in secret the creatress of a great fortune, to 
 assist a man of genius to contend with fate and 
 overcome it, to embroider his scarf for the joust, to 
 furnish him with weapons, to give him an amulet 
 against sorcery, and a healing balm for his wounds ! 
 In the case of a woman educated as Marie had 
 been, and devout and noble-souled as she was, love 
 was certain to take the shape of a sort of voluptuous 
 charity. Herein lies the explanation of her for- 
 wardness. Virtuous sentiments compromise them- 
 selves with superb disdain not unlike the shame- 
 lessness of a courtesan. As soon, therefore, as she 
 had satisfied herself, by specious sophistry, that she 
 was not violating her conjugal faith, the countess 
 plunged heart and soul into the pleasure of loving 
 Raoul. Thereupon the most trivial incidents of life 
 acquired a charm for her. Her boudoir, where she 
 sat and thought of him, she transformed into a sanc- 
 tuary. There was nothing there, even to her dainty 
 writing-desk, that did not awaken in her heart the 
 thousand and one delights of such a connection; she 
 would have letters to read and hide and answer. 
 The toilette, the sublime poetry of a woman's life, 
 whose charm had worn off or was unappreciated by 
 her, reappeared, endowed with a magic power hith- 
 erto unsuspected. Her toilette suddenly became to 
 her what it is to all women, a constant manifestation 
 of her inmost thoughts, a language, a symbol. How 
 much pleasure may be derived from a costume 
 designed to please him, to do him honor ! She devoted 
 her attention most innocently to the fascinating
 
 296 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 little artifices which occupy so large a part of the 
 lives of Parisian women and which give ample 
 meaning to everything you see at their homes or 
 upon their persons. 
 
 Very few women run about to silk merchants and 
 milliners and fashionable dressmakers in their own 
 interest alone. When they are old they no longer 
 think of their dress. When you see, as you walk 
 along the street, a female figure stopping for a 
 moment in front of a show-window, look carefully 
 at her: "Would he like me better in that?" is a 
 phrase writ large upon her cheerful face, in her 
 eyes glistening with hope, in the smile that plays 
 about her lips. 
 
 Lady Dudley's ball took place on a Saturday 
 evening; on Monday the countess went to the 
 opera, drawn thither by the certainty that she 
 should see Raoul there. And there he was, planted 
 on one of the staircases leading to the amphitheatre 
 stalls. He lowered his eyes when the countess 
 entered her box. With what bliss did Madame de 
 Vandenesse take note of the unwonted care her lover 
 had bestowed upon his toilette! That scoffer at the 
 laws of fashion exhibited a well-combed head of 
 hair with perfumed oil glistening in the curves of 
 the myriad curls; his waistcoat conformed to the 
 prevailing style, his cravat was securely tied, the 
 folds of his shirt were irreproachably clean and 
 smooth. His hands seemed very white beneath the 
 yellow gloves he wore in obedience to the decree 
 then in force. His arms were folded across his
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 297 
 
 chest as if he were posing for his portrait, superbly 
 indifferent to the whole great audience, but bursting 
 with ill -restrained impatience. His eyes, although 
 cast down, seemed to be turned toward the red vel- 
 vet box-rail on which Marie's arm rested. Felix, 
 seated in the other corner of the box, had his back 
 turned to Nathan. The clever countess had seated 
 herself so that she could fix her eyes upon the pillar 
 against which Raoul was leaning. And so, all in a 
 moment, Marie had caused this man of brains to 
 abjure his cynicism in the matter of clothing. The 
 most humble as well as the most exalted of women 
 is deeply moved to see the first manifestation of 
 her power in such a metamorphosis as this. Every 
 change is a confession of subjection. 
 
 "They were right, there is much happiness in 
 being understood, " she said to herself as she thought 
 of her hateful mentors. 
 
 When the two lovers had taken in the whole 
 hall with the swift glance that sees everything, 
 they exchanged a look of intelligence. It was to 
 both as if the dew from heaven had fallen in a 
 refreshing shower upon their hearts, parched by 
 long waiting. "I have been here for an hour in 
 hell and now the gates of heaven are opening," 
 said Raoul 's eyes. "I knew you were here, but 
 am I my own mistress?" the countess's eyes 
 replied. 
 
 Thieves, spies, lovers, diplomats, slaves of all 
 kinds in short, but no others, know the resources 
 and the delights of the glance. They alone know
 
 298 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 all the possibilities in the way of tenderness, mutual 
 understanding, wrath and malice contained in the 
 modifications of that soul-laden ray of light. 
 
 Raoul felt his passion wince under the spur of 
 necessity, but wax great at the sight of the obstacles 
 in its path. Between the step on which he stood 
 and the box of the Comtesse Felix de Vandenesse, 
 the distance was scarcely thirty feet, but it was 
 impossible for him to ignore that distance. In the 
 breast of a man of fierce passions, who hitherto had 
 found but a brief interval between a desire and its 
 gratification, that stern and impassable abyss 
 aroused a fierce longing to leap with a tiger's spring 
 to where the countess sat In a paroxysm of rage, 
 he tried to feel the ground. He bowed openly to 
 the countess, who responded with one of those slight, 
 disdainful movements of the head, with which 
 women put an end to any inclination their adorers 
 may have to begin again. 
 
 Comte Felix turned to see who had attracted his 
 wife's attention; he saw Nathan, did not bow to 
 him, but seemed rather to call him to account for 
 his audacity, and turned slowly around again, say- 
 ing a few words evidently in approbation of his 
 wife's feigned contempt It was clear that the door 
 of the box was closed to Nathan, who darted a 
 threatening glance at Felix. Anyone who saw this 
 glance, would have interpreted it by repeating a 
 remark of Florine's: "Before long you won't be 
 able to put your hat on!" 
 
 Madame d'Espard, one of the most impertinent
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 299 
 
 women of her day, had seen the whole episode from 
 her box; she raised her voice, exclaiming "bravo!" 
 without any special occasion therefor. Raoul, who 
 stood below her, at last turned his head ; he bowed 
 to her and received in return a gracious smile which 
 said to him so plainly: "If they shut you out 
 there, come here!" that he left his pillar and paid a 
 visit to Madame d'Espard. It was well for him to 
 show himself there in order to teach that wretched 
 little Monsieur de Vandenesse that celebrity was of 
 equal value with noble blood, and that all emblazoned 
 doors turned upon their hinges when Nathan 
 knocked at them. The marchioness forced him to 
 sit facing her at the front of the box. She proposed 
 to put him to the question. 
 
 "Madame Felix de Vandenesse is enchanting this 
 evening," she said, complimenting him upon her 
 toilette as she might have complimented him upon a 
 book he had published the day before. 
 
 "Yes," said Raoul carelessly, "the marabou 
 feathers are wonderfully becoming; but she's very 
 faithful to them, she wore them night before last," 
 he added with a nonchalant air, as if to repudiate 
 by this criticism the sweet complicity of which the 
 marchioness accused him. 
 
 "You know the proverb?" she replied. "Every 
 pleasure has its to-morrow." 
 
 At the game of repartee, literary celebrities are 
 not always as strong as marchionesses. Raoul 
 adopted the course of pretending to misunderstand, 
 the last resource of men of wit
 
 300 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "The proverb is true in my case," he said, 
 glancing at the marchioness with a gallant air. 
 
 "My dear boy, your declaration comes too late 
 for me to accept it," she said, laughingly. "Come, 
 come, don't be such a prude ; you thought Madame 
 de Vandenesse was lovely in marabou feathers at 
 the ball yesterday morning; she knows it, so she 
 wears them again for your benefit She loves you 
 and you adore her; it's a little sudden, but I don't 
 see why it's not perfectly natural. If I were mis- 
 taken you wouldn't be twisting one of your gloves 
 about like a man who's half crazy because he's sit- 
 ting by my side instead of being in his idol's box, 
 from which he's just been turned away by a 
 formal expression of scorn, and listening to me say 
 in a whisper what he'd like to hear said aloud." 
 
 Raoul was, in fact, twisting one of his gloves and 
 exhibiting an astonishingly white hand. 
 
 "She has induced you," she said, staring at his 
 hand in the most impertinent way, "to make sacri- 
 fices that you never made to society at large. She 
 ought to be enchanted with her success ; no doubt 
 she will be a little proud of it; but if I were in her 
 place I might be even more so. She was nothing 
 but a bright woman, and now she's going to be held 
 up as a woman of genius. You're going to paint 
 her for us in one of the charming books you know 
 so well how to write. My dear, don't forget Van- 
 denesse, do it for me. Upon my word, he's too 
 sure of himself. I wouldn't put on that radiant ex- 
 pression for the Olympian Jupiter, the only one of
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 301 
 
 the heathen gods who was exempt from accident, 
 they say." 
 
 "Madame," cried Raoul, "you give me credit for 
 a very base heart, if you deem me capable of mak- 
 ing a business matter of my feelings or my love. I 
 should prefer to such literary baseness as that, the 
 English custom of putting a rope around a woman's 
 neck and leading her to market" 
 
 "But I know Marie she'll ask you to do it." 
 
 "She's incapable of it," said Raoul hotly. 
 
 "Do you know her so well, pray?" 
 
 Nathan began to laugh at himself, he a deviser of 
 scenes, for allowing himself to be caught by a stage 
 trick. 
 
 "The comedy's being played here in your box, 
 and not there," he said, pointing to the footlights. 
 
 He took her opera-glass and began to survey the 
 audience to keep himself in countenance. 
 
 "Are you angry with me?" said the marchioness, 
 looking at him out of the corner of her eye. 
 "Shouldn't I have known your secret all the same? 
 We shall easily be reconciled. Come and see me; 
 I receive on Wednesdays; the dear countess won't 
 miss an evening as soon as she finds you are likely 
 to be there. I shall be the gainer by it Some- 
 times I see her between four and five o'clock, and 
 I'll be a good girl and add you to the small number 
 of particular friends I admit at that hour." 
 
 "Well, well," said Raoul, "what people there are 
 in the world! they told me you were a wicked crea- 
 ture."
 
 3O2 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "Wicked!" said she, "so I am when there's occa- 
 sion for it Mustn't I defend myself? But as to 
 your countess, I adore her; you will be satisfied 
 with her, for she is charming. You will be the first 
 man whose name has been engraved on her heart 
 with the childish joy that leads all lovers, even cor- 
 porals, to carve their ciphers on the bark of trees. 
 A woman's first love is a delicious fruit. Later on, 
 you see, there's a touch of science in our affections 
 and our coquetry. An old woman like me can say 
 whatever she pleases, for she's afraid of nothing, 
 not even a journalist In the autumn of life we 
 know how to make you happy; but when we begin 
 to love, we are happy ourselves, and thus we flatter 
 your pride in a thousand ways. At such times, 
 everything is unexpected and enchanting, for our 
 hearts are overflowing with artlessness. You are 
 too much of a poet not to prefer the flower to the 
 fruit I'll expect you six months from now." 
 
 Raoul, like all criminals, resorted to a system of 
 denial; but he thereby furnished this bold fencer 
 with additional weapons. Finding himself involved 
 before long in the meshes of one of the cleverest 
 and most dangerous of those private conversations 
 in which Parisian women excel, he feared lest he 
 might be surprised into making admissions which 
 the marchioness would at once make the most of 
 with her mocking tongue, he discreetly withdrew 
 as Lady Dudley entered the box. 
 
 "Well," said the Englishwoman to the marchion- 
 ess, "how far along are they?"
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 30$ 
 
 "They are madly in love with each other. Nathan 
 has just told me so." 
 
 "I would have liked to have him uglier than he 
 is," said Lady Dudley, casting a viper ish glance at 
 Felix. "Otherwise he's just what I wanted: he's 
 the son of a Jew pawnbroker who died a bankrupt 
 soon after his marriage; but his mother was a 
 Catholic, and unfortunately she made a Christian 
 of him." 
 
 These facts concerning his origin, which Nathan 
 was at such pains to conceal, Lady Dudley had suc- 
 ceeded in discovering, and she was enjoying in an- 
 ticipation the pleasure it would afford her to extract 
 therefrom some crushing epigram against Vande- 
 nesse. 
 
 "To think that I just now invited him to come 
 to my house !" exclaimed the marchioness. 
 
 "Didn't I receive him yesterday?" rejoined Lady 
 Dudley. "There are pleasures which cost us very 
 dear, my love."
 
 The news of the mutual passion of Raoul and 
 Madame de Vandenesse was industriously circulated 
 among the people of fashion during the evening, not 
 without arousing incredulity and contradiction; but 
 the countess was defended by her friends, Lady 
 Dudley, Mesdames d'Espard and De Manerville, 
 with ambiguous warmth well calculated to induce 
 belief in the report 
 
 Impelled by necessity, Raoul went to Madame 
 d'Espard's on Wednesday evening, and met the 
 aristocratic company usually to be found there. As 
 Felix did not accompany his wife, Raoul was able 
 to exchange a few words with Marie, words more 
 expressive by reason of the tone in which they were 
 uttered than of the ideas conveyed by them. The 
 countess, warned by Madame Octave de Camps 
 to be on her guard against evil tongues, realized her 
 position in the eyes of the world and made Raoul 
 realize it 
 
 Amid that gorgeous throng, the only pleasure en- 
 joyed by either consisted in the sensations, so 
 keenly relished at such times, that are aroused by 
 the voice, the gestures, the attitudes, the ideas of a 
 person who is dear to one. The heart grasps madly 
 at trifles. Sometimes the eyes of both are fixed 
 upon the same object, embodying therein, so to 
 speak, a thought conceived, transmitted and under- 
 stood. We remark with admiration the foot put 
 20 (305)
 
 306 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 slightly forward during a conversation, the restless 
 hand, the fingers busily occupied in taking up and 
 putting down and toying with some knickknack in a 
 significant way. Ideas no longer speak, nor words, 
 but things; they say so much that a man in love 
 often leaves it for others to bring a cup of tea or the 
 sugar-bowl or the thousand and one things his be- 
 loved may ask for, because he fears that he may 
 reveal his confusion to eyes that seem to see noth- 
 ing, but see everything. A thousand desires, wild 
 wishes and passionate thoughts are compressed in 
 a glance. The pressure of the hand, unseen by 
 the thousand Argus eyes, acquires the eloquence of 
 a long letter, the rapture of a kiss. Love grows on 
 all that it denies itself, and leans upon every 
 obstacle to renew its strength. And finally these 
 obstacles, more often cursed than crossed, are cut 
 down and cast into the fire to keep it alive. At 
 such times, women can measure the extent of their 
 power in the small dimensions to which a boundless 
 passion is reduced, as it recoils upon itself, conceals 
 itself in a thirsty glance, in a contraction of the 
 nerves, behind a commonplace courteous phrase. 
 How many times, upon the lowest step of a stair- 
 case, is a man rewarded by a single word for all 
 the unheard-of torture, the meaningless conversation 
 of a whole evening ! 
 
 Raoul, a man who cared little for society, gave 
 free rein to his wrath in his speech, and was in a 
 fever of excitement Everyone heard the roars in- 
 spired by the restraint which artists find it so hard
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 307 
 
 to endure. This frenzy, a la Roland, this wit that 
 crushed and shattered everything, using epigram as 
 a club, intoxicated Marie and entertained the com- 
 pany as if they were watching the mad career of a 
 bull, decked out with flags in a Spanish bull ring. 
 
 "It's of no use for you to knock everybody down, 
 you won't succeed in creating a solitude," said 
 Blondet 
 
 This hint restored Raoul's presence of mind, and 
 he ceased to make an exhibition of his vexation. 
 The marchioness came and offered him a cup of 
 tea, and said so that Madame de Vandenesse could 
 hear: 
 
 "Really you're very amusing, pray come and see 
 me some day at four o'clock." 
 
 Raoul took offence at the word amusing, although 
 it was used as a pretext for the invitation. He be- 
 gan to listen like those actors who stare about the 
 theatre instead of keeping their thoughts on the 
 stage. Blondet had compassion on him. 
 
 "My dear fellow," said he, taking him into a 
 corner, "you act in society as if you were at Flo- 
 rine's. Here it isn't the thing to lose your temper or 
 make long speeches, but you should say a clever word 
 or two now and then, assume a tranquil expression 
 just when you feel the greatest desire to throw peo- 
 ple out of the window, jest mildly, make a pretence 
 of paying marked attention to the woman you adore, 
 and not roll over on your back like a donkey 
 in the middle of the road. Here, my dear fellow, 
 we love according to rule. Either carry off Madame
 
 308 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 de Vandenesse, or act like a gentleman. You're too 
 much like the lover in one of your books." 
 
 Nathan hung his head as he listened; he was like 
 a lion caught in the toils. 
 
 "I'll never set my foot inside these doors again," 
 said he. "This papier-mache marchioness sells her 
 tea too dear. She thinks me amusing! I under- 
 stand now why Saint- Just guillotined all such 
 people." 
 
 "You'll come again to-morrow." 
 
 Blondet was a true prophet. The passions are as 
 cowardly as they are cruel. The next day, after 
 wavering a long while between: "I will go," and 
 "I won't go," Raoul left his associates in the middle 
 of an important discussion, and hurried to Madame 
 d'Espard's on Faubourg Saint-Honore. When he 
 saw Rastignac's stylish cabriolet drive in as he was 
 paying his cabman, his vanity was wounded; he 
 determined to have a stylish cabriolet himself and 
 the tiger to go with it. 
 
 The countess's carriage was in the courtyard. 
 At that sight, Raoul's heart swelled with delight 
 Marie was going forward under the impulsion of 
 her desires like the hand of a clock kept in motion 
 by its spring. She was stretched out in an easy 
 chair at the corner of the fireplace in the small 
 salon. Instead of looking up at Nathan when he 
 was announced, she looked at him in the mirror, 
 feeling sure that the mistress of the house would 
 turn toward him. Love is hunted down so persist- 
 ently in society that it is forced to resort to such
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 309 
 
 little stratagems; it gives life to mirrors and muffs 
 and fans, to a multitude of things whose utility is 
 not at once demonstrated and which many women 
 wear out without making use of them. 
 
 "Monsieur le Ministre, " said Madame d'Espard to 
 Raoul, introducing De Marsay to him by a glance, 
 "was insisting, just as you came in, that the roy- 
 alists and the republicans understand one another; 
 you ought to know something about it?" 
 
 "Suppose it should be so," said Raoul, "where's 
 the harm? We hate the same object; we are 
 agreed in our hatred, but we differ in our love. 
 That's the whole story." 
 
 "It's a curious alliance at all events," said De 
 Marsay, embracing Comtesse Felix and Raoul in a 
 single glance. 
 
 "It won't last long," said Rastignac, who thought 
 a little too much about politics, like all new re- 
 cruits. 
 
 "What do you say to it, my dear friend?" Ma- 
 dame d'Espard asked the countess. 
 
 "I don't understand politics at all." 
 
 "You will go into it, madame," said De Marsay, 
 "and then you will be our enemy twice over." 
 
 Nathan and Marie did not understand the allusion 
 until De Marsay had gone. Rastignac followed him, 
 and Madame d'Espard accompanied them to the door 
 of her first salon. The two lovers forgot the minis- 
 ter's epigrams, for they found that they were blessed 
 with a few moments to themselves. Marie quickly 
 drew off her glove and gave her hand to Raoul, who
 
 310 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 took it and kissed it as if he were only eighteen. 
 The countess's glance expressed such whole-hearted, 
 noble affection that Raoul's eyes were wet with the 
 tears that men of a nervous temperament always 
 have at their command. 
 
 "Where can I see you? where can I speak to 
 you?" he said. "I shall die if I must always dis- 
 guise my voice, my look, my heart, my love." 
 
 Marie, deeply moved by his tears, promised to 
 drive in the Bois whenever the weather was not too 
 bad. This promise gave Raoul more happiness than 
 Florine had given him in five years. 
 
 "I have so much to say to you! I suffer so from 
 the silence to which we are condemned!" 
 
 The countess was gazing at him as if fascinated, 
 unable to reply, when the marchioness returned. 
 
 "How's this! you couldn't find any answer for 
 De Marsay?" she said as she came in. 
 
 "We must respect the dead," said Raoul. "Don't 
 you see that he's on his last legs? Rastignac is 
 his nurse, he hopes to be mentioned in the will." 
 
 The countess pretended that she had calls to 
 make ; she was anxious to be gone in order not to 
 betray herself. For that quarter of an hour Raoul 
 had sacrificed precious time and his most pressing 
 interests. Marie as yet knew nothing of the details 
 of this life of a bird on the tree, combined with most 
 complicated business interests and most exacting 
 toil. 
 
 When two persons united by undying love lead 
 lives knit together more closely everyday by bonds
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 311 
 
 of confidence, by scrutinizing together such difficul- 
 ties as arise; when two hearts exchange regrets 
 each night and morning, as their mouths exchange 
 sighs, share the same agonies of suspense, beat fast 
 together at sight of an obstacle, then everything 
 counts; a woman knows how much love may be ex- 
 pressed in an averted glance, how much effort ex- 
 pended in a rapid journey ; she keeps her hands busy, 
 goes and comes, hopes, suffers with the hard-work- 
 ing, worried man ; her complaints are addressed to 
 things ; she does not doubt, for she knows and ap- 
 preciates the details of life. But at the outset of 
 a passion in which so much ardor and suspicion and 
 unreasonableness are displayed, and where neither 
 party really knows the other; with lazy women, at 
 whose door love must always be doing sentry-duty; 
 with women who have an exaggerated idea of their 
 dignity and are determined to be obeyed in every- 
 thing, even when they give orders for the commis- 
 sion of a crime that may ruin a man, love, in Paris 
 in our time, demands the performance of impossible 
 tasks. Women of the world have remained under 
 the sway of the traditions of the eighteenth century, 
 when everyone had a fixed and definite position. 
 Few women know aught of the perplexities that 
 beset the existence of most men, all of whom have 
 a position to make for themselves, a fortune to es- 
 tablish on a firm basis, glory in embryo. To-day, 
 the men whose fortune is establ ished can be counted ; 
 only the old men have time to love, the young are 
 rowing in the galleys of ambition, even as Nathan
 
 312 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 was pulling an oar there. The women, still unre- 
 signed to this change in manners, loan the time of 
 which they have an over-supply to those who have 
 not enough ; they have no conception of any other 
 occupations, any other aim than their own. Although 
 the lover may have overcome the Lernean hydra to 
 reach their feet, he has no credit for it; everything 
 else is blotted out by the joy of seeing him ; they 
 are grateful to him only for their own emotions, 
 without taking the trouble to ascertain what they 
 may have cost If they have invented, during their 
 hours of idleness, one of those stratagems which 
 they have at command, they exhibit its brilliancy 
 as if it were a jewel. You have wrenched aside 
 the iron bars of necessity, while they were putting 
 on the mittens or adjusting the cloak of a ruse; to 
 them the palm, and do not seek to wrest it from 
 them. They are right too, for how can we refuse 
 to sever every tie for a woman who does as much 
 for us ? They demand as much as they give. 
 
 Raoul realized when he came to himself how 
 difficult it would be for him to conduct a love-affair 
 in society, the ten-horse chariot of journalism, his 
 dramatic productions and his unsavory business 
 affairs. 
 
 "The paper will be detestable to-night," he said 
 to himself as he left the house; "there won't be a 
 single article by myself, and it's the second number 
 too!"
 
 Madame Felix de Vandenesse went three times to 
 the Bois de Boulogne without seeing Raoul there, 
 and returned home in despair and sorely troubled. 
 Nathan did not choose to make his appearance there 
 otherwise than with all the splendor of a prince of 
 the press. He spent the whole week in finding two 
 horses and a suitable cabriolet and tiger, in con- 
 vincing his partners of the necessity of saving such 
 valuable time as his, and in having his equipage 
 charged to the general expenses of the newspaper. 
 His partners, Massol and Du Tillet, acceded to his 
 request so readily that he thought they were the 
 best fellows in the world. Without this assistance, 
 life would have been impossible to Raoul; it was 
 becoming so hard a life, however, although with an 
 admixture of the most delectable pleasures of ideal 
 love, that many people, even those endowed with 
 the strongest constitutions, would have been unable 
 to stand up under such dissipation. 
 
 A vehement and requited passion occupies much 
 space in an ordinary existence; but when its object 
 is a woman in Madame de Vandenesse's position, it 
 may be expected to exhaust the vitality of a man 
 with so many demands upon his time as Raoul. 
 These are the duties which his passion placed be- 
 fore all others. He must appear on horseback in 
 (313)
 
 314 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 the Bois de Boulogne almost every day between two 
 and three o'clock, in the guise of a gentleman of 
 leisure. There he would learn at whose house or 
 at which theatre he could see Madame de Vande- 
 nesse again in the evening. He never left the salons 
 until toward midnight after pouncing upon a word 
 or two long awaited, a few morsels of tenderness be- 
 stowed by stealth under the table, between two doors 
 or as she entered her carriage. Most of the time, 
 Marie, who had launched him in the first society, 
 procured invitations for him to dine at certain 
 houses at which she was a frequent guest. Was it 
 not a simple matter ? Raoul, dominated by his pas- 
 sion, was restrained by pride from speaking of his 
 work. He was compelled to obey the most capri- 
 cious behests of this innocent sovereign, and at the 
 same time to follow the parliamentary debates and 
 the torrent of politics, keep an eye on the manage- 
 ment of the newspaper, and produce two plays, the 
 receipts from which were indispensable to him. 
 Madame de Vandenesse had but to pout when he 
 tried to escape attendance at a ball, a concert or a 
 drive, and he at once sacrificed his interests to her 
 good pleasure. When he quitted the gay world be- 
 tween one and two o'clock in the morning, he would 
 return home to work until eight or nine, sleep 
 almost none at all, and then be on his feet again to 
 decide upon the opinions to be espoused by the 
 newspaper in concert with the influential men upon 
 whom its existence depended, and to discuss the 
 innumerable details of the management. In these
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 315 
 
 days, journalism has a hand in everything, manufac- 
 tures, public and private concerns, new enterprises, 
 the productions of literary men and everything that 
 touches their self-esteem. When Nathan had been 
 running all day from his editorial office to the 
 theatre, from the theatre to the Chamber, from the 
 Chamber to some of his creditors, tired out and 
 worried as he was, he must appear before Marie 
 with tranquil, blissful mien, gallop up to her door 
 with the serenity of a man who has no cares and 
 knows no weariness, save that of happiness. 
 When, as his reward for all this unsuspected devo- 
 tion, he received nothing more than the sweetest of 
 words, the most touching assurances of everlasting 
 attachment, a warm pressure of the hand, stolen 
 during a few seconds of solitude, a passionate word 
 or two in exchange for his own, he felt that he was 
 cheating himself by leaving her in ignorance of the 
 enormous price he was paying for what our fathers 
 would have called these trifling testimonials. 
 
 The opportunity for an explanation was not long 
 in coming. One lovely day in April, the countess 
 accepted Nathan's arm in an out-of-the-way corner 
 of the Bois de Boulogne ; she had a crow to pluck 
 with him one of those charming little quarrels 
 about nothing, out of which women can build mount- 
 ains. Instead of greeting him with a smile upon 
 her lips, her face radiant with happiness, her eyes 
 lighted up with some ingenious, joyous thought, she 
 was grave and serious. 
 
 "What is wrong with you?" said Nathan.
 
 3l6 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "Don't concern yourself about such trifles," said 
 she; "you must know that women are children." 
 
 "Have I offended you?" 
 
 "Should I be here?" 
 
 "But you don't smile at me, you don't seem glad 
 to see me." 
 
 "I have a fit of the sulks, haven't I?" said she, 
 looking at him with the resigned air which women 
 adopt when they wish to pose as victims. 
 
 Nathan walked forward a few steps with a feeling 
 of apprehension that saddened him and made his 
 heart sick. 
 
 "It must be," he said after a pause, "some trivial 
 fright, one of the vague suspicions that you place 
 above the greatest concerns of life; you have the 
 power to change the world's course with a feather 
 or a straw!" 
 
 "Sarcasm, eh? I expected it, "said she, hanging 
 her head. 
 
 "Marie, my angel, don't you see that I said that 
 to tear your secret from you?" 
 
 "My secret will still be a secret even after you 
 have been entrusted with it" 
 
 "Well, tell me" 
 
 "I am not loved," she retorted, glancing at him 
 out of the corner of her eye with the cunning, mis- 
 chievous expression with which women cross- 
 examine the men they wish to torture. 
 
 "Not loved ?" cried Nathan. 
 
 "No, you have too many irons in the fire. Where 
 am I in the midst of all the excitement? neglected
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 317 
 
 at every turn. Yesterday I came to the Bois and 
 waited for you " 
 
 "But" 
 
 "I wore a new dress for your benefit, and you 
 didn't come; where were you " 
 
 "But" 
 
 "I had no idea. I went to Madame d'Espard's 
 and I didn't find you there." 
 
 "But" 
 
 "In the evening, at the opera, I never took my 
 eyes off the balcony, every time the door opened my 
 heart beat as if it would burst" 
 
 "But" 
 
 "What an evening! You have no conception of 
 these tempests in the heart." 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Such emotion wears one's life away " 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Well?" said she. 
 
 "True, it does wear one's life out," said Nathan, 
 "and before many months you will have consumed 
 mine. Your insane reproaches extort my secret 
 from me too You say I don't love you ? Ah ! I love 
 you too well." 
 
 He painted his position in vivid colors, told her 
 of his vigils, enumerated his engagements at stated 
 hours, and explained the necessity of success, the 
 insatiable demands of a newspaper which is called 
 upon to pass judgment, before all others, upon cur- 
 rent events and to make no mistake under pain of 
 losing its power, and the innumerable rapid studies
 
 318 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 he was required to make upon the questions which 
 succeeded each other as swiftly as clouds in that 
 consuming age. 
 
 Raoul was put in the wrong in a moment As 
 the Marquise d'Espard had told him, nothing is 
 more artless than a first love. He soon found 
 that the countess was guilty of loving too much. 
 A loving woman responds to everything with a 
 confession, an endearment or a caress. The count- 
 ess, when this prodigious life was unrolled before 
 her, was overwhelmed with admiration. She had 
 made Nathan a very great man in her thoughts, 
 she found him sublime. She accused herself of 
 loving too much, begged him to come at his own 
 time; she smoothed his ambitious labors by rais- 
 ing her eyes to heaven. She would wait! Thence- 
 forth she would sacrifice her own pleasures. 
 Although her desire was to be only a stepping- 
 stone, she was an obstacle! she wept with de- 
 spair. 
 
 "Women," she said with tears in her eyes, "can 
 do nothing but love, while men have a thousand 
 things to occupy them; we can only think and pray 
 and adore." 
 
 Such a wealth of love deserved a reward. She 
 looked around, like the nightingale as he flies down 
 from his branch to a spring, to see if they were 
 alone in the solitude, if no spy were hidden in the 
 silence; then she raised her head to Raoul, who 
 bent his to meet it; she allowed him to take a kiss, 
 the first, the only one she was destined to bestow
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 319 
 
 clandestinely, and she was happier at that moment 
 than she had been for five years. 
 
 Raoul felt that all his labors were rewarded. 
 They walked along together on the road from 
 Auteuil to Boulogne, without any definite idea where 
 they were going; they were obliged at last to return 
 to their carriages, walking with the regular, rhyth- 
 mical step which lovers know. Raoul had con- 
 fidence in that kiss, bestowed with the modest will- 
 ingness that sanctity of sentiment imparts. All the 
 harm came from the world, and not from this woman 
 who was so entirely his. Raoul no longer regretted 
 the trials of his tempestuous life, which Marie was 
 certain to forget in the heat of her first desire, like 
 all women who are not constant witnesses of the 
 terrible struggles of such exceptional lives. Under 
 the sway of the grateful admiration, characteristic 
 of a woman's love, Marie trod the fine sand of a 
 bypath with a quick, firm step, saying, as did 
 Raoul, very few words, but heartfelt and full of 
 meaning. 
 
 The sky was without a cloud, the great trees were 
 budding, and here and there a speck of green gave 
 life to their myriads of slender brown twigs. The 
 shrubs, the birches, the willows, the poplars were 
 putting forth their first tender, still diaphanous 
 shoots. Such harmony no soul can resist Love 
 interpreted nature to the countess, as it had inter- 
 preted society to her. 
 
 "I wish that you had never loved anyone but 
 me!" said she.
 
 320 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "Your wish is gratified," Raoul replied. "We 
 have taught each other what true love is." 
 
 He spoke the truth. In posing as a pure man 
 before this youthful heart, Raoul had resort to high- 
 flown phrases of lofty sentiment. At first, purely 
 speculative and self-seeking, his passion had become 
 sincere. He began by lying, he ended by speaking 
 the truth. 
 
 There is, however, in every writer a sentiment, 
 difficult to restrain, that leads him to admire what 
 is morally beautiful. In fine, by dint of making 
 sacrifices, a man becomes interested in the person 
 who demands them. Women of the world have an 
 instinctive perception of this truth, just as cour- 
 tesans have ; indeed it may be that they put it in 
 practice without knowing it. So it was that the 
 countess, after her first burst of gratitude and sur- 
 prise, was enraptured to find that she had inspired 
 so many sacrifices, had caused him to overcome so 
 many obstacles. She was beloved by a man who 
 was worthy of her. Raoul did not know all that 
 his false grandeur required of him ; for women do 
 not allow their lovers to descend from their pedes- 
 tals. A god can not be pardoned for the slightest 
 baseness. Marie did not know the keyword of the 
 enigma Raoul gave his friends at the supper-party 
 at Very's. This low-born writer's struggle for 
 existence had occupied the first ten years of his 
 youth; he longed to be beloved by one of the 
 queens of the world of fashion. Vanity, without 
 which love is very weak, says Chamfort, kept
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 321 
 
 his passion alight and added fuel to it from day 
 to day. 
 
 "Can you swear to me that you do not and never 
 will belong to any other woman?" said Marie. 
 
 "There would be no more time in my life than 
 there is room in my heart for another woman," he 
 replied, believing that he was telling the truth, so 
 great was his contempt for Florine. 
 
 "I believe you," said she. 
 
 When they reached the avenue where the car- 
 riages were waiting, Marie dropped Nathan's arm, 
 and he assumed a respectful attitude as if he had 
 just met her ; he escorted her to her carriage, hat in 
 hand, then followed her along Charles X. Avenue, 
 breathing the dust raised by her horses and gazing 
 at her feathers, drooping like the weeping willow, 
 as the wind blew them about 
 
 Notwithstanding Marie's noble self-denial, Raoul, 
 inflamed by his passion, went wherever she was; 
 he adored the reproachful yet happy expression the 
 countess assumed in an ineffectual attempt to scold 
 him, when she saw him wasting the time that was 
 so valuable to him. Marie undertook the direction 
 of his labors, gave him explicit orders as to the em- 
 ployment of his time, and remained at home in order 
 to deprive him of all excuse for dissipation. She 
 read his paper every morning and became the herald 
 of the renown of Etienne Lousteau the feuilletonist, 
 whom she thought delightful, of Felicien Vernou, 
 Claude Vignon and all the editors. She advised 
 Raoul to do justice to De Marsay when he died, and 
 
 21
 
 322 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 read with rapture the noble and eloquent eulogy he 
 wrote of the dead minister, although he blamed his 
 machiavelism and hatred for the masses. Naturally 
 she was present, in a front seat at the Gymnase, at 
 the first performance of the play upon which Nathan 
 relied to support him in his undertaking, and which 
 seemed to make a tremendous hit. She was de- 
 ceived by the hired applause. 
 
 "You haven't said farewell to the Italiens, have 
 you?" said Lady Dudley, to whose house she went 
 after the performance. 
 
 "No, I have been to the Gymnase. It was the 
 first night of a new play." 
 
 "I can't endure vaudevilles. I feel the same way 
 about them that Louis XIV. felt about Tenier's pic- 
 tures," said Lady Dudley. 
 
 "For my part," said Madame d'Espard, "I think 
 that our authors are making progress. The vaude- 
 villes of to-day are delightful comedies, bubbling 
 over with wit, and they demand first-rate talent ; I 
 enjoy them very much." 
 
 "The actors are excellent, too," said Marie. 
 "They acted extremely well at the Gymnase to- 
 night; the play suited them, for the dialogue is very 
 bright and clever." 
 
 "Like Beaumarchais," said Lady Dudley. 
 
 "Monsieur Nathan isn't a Moliere yet; but " 
 said Madame d'Espard with a glance at the 
 countess. 
 
 "He makes vaudevilles," said Madame Charles 
 de Vandenesse.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 323 
 
 "And unmakes ministries," added Madame de 
 Manerville. 
 
 The countess said nothing; she tried to reply 
 with some biting epigram ; she felt that her heart 
 was in a ferment of rage; she could find nothing 
 better to say than : 
 
 "He will make them perhaps." 
 
 All the women exchanged mysterious glances of 
 intelligence. When Marie de Vandenesse had taken 
 her leave, Moina de Saint-Heren exclaimed: 
 
 "Why, she worships Nathan!" 
 
 "She makes no mystery of it," observed Madame 
 d'Espard.
 
 The month of May arrived and Vandenesse took 
 his wife away to his estate in the country, where 
 her only consolation was the receipt of passionate 
 letters from Raoul, to whom she wrote every day. 
 
 The countess's absence might have saved him 
 from the chasm he had stepped into, if Florine had 
 been with him ; but he was alone in the midst of 
 friends who became his secret enemies as soon as 
 he exhibited a purpose to domineer over them. His 
 collaborators hated him for the moment, ready to 
 holdout a helping hand and console him if he failed; 
 ready to fall down and fawn upon him if he suc- 
 ceeded. So goes the literary world. There, no man 
 loves anybody save his inferiors. Every man is 
 the foe of anyone who seeks to rise. This general 
 jealousy increases tenfold the opportunities of 
 mediocre men who arouse neither envy nor suspi- 
 cion, but burrow along like moles, and, however 
 stupid they may be, find themselves gazetted in the 
 Moniteur for three or four lucrative places, while 
 the men of talent are still fighting at the door to 
 prevent one another from going in. 
 
 The underground hostility of these pretended 
 friends, whom Florine would have detected with 
 the innate genius of the courtesan for putting her 
 hand upon the truth among a thousand hypotheses, 
 was not the greatest danger by which Raoul was 
 (325)
 
 326 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 threatened. His two associates, Massol the advo- 
 cate and Du Til let the banker, had conceived the 
 scheme of harnessing his ardor to the chariot in 
 which they were showing themselves off, intending 
 to eject him as soon as he ceased to be in a condi- 
 tion to carry on the newspaper, or to deprive him of 
 that great power as soon as they wanted to make 
 use of it In their eyes, Nathan stood for a certain 
 sum of money to be consumed, a literary force as ef- 
 fective as ten pens to be employed. Massol, one of 
 those advocates who mistake the faculty of speak- 
 ing at indefinite length for eloquence, who possess 
 the secret of wearying their hearers whatever they 
 may say, the pest of assemblies where they cheapen 
 everything, and who are determined to become per- 
 sonages at any price, no longer aimed at being 
 keeper of the seals; he had seen five or six of them 
 succeed one another in four years, and had taken a 
 dislike to the gown. He desired, even as he desired 
 money in his purse, a chair in the department of 
 Public Instruction, a seat at the Council of State, 
 the whole seasoned by the Cross of the Legion of 
 Honor. Du Tillet and Baron de Nucingen had 
 guaranteed the Cross and his appointment as master 
 of requests if he would enter into their plans; he 
 deemed them better able to fulfill their promises 
 than Nathan, and he obeyed them blindly. The 
 better to pull the wool over Raoul's eyes they 
 allowed him to manage the paper without inter- 
 ference. Du Tillet used it only to forward his 
 stock-jobbing interests, which Raoul understood
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 327 
 
 nothing about; but he had already given Rastignac 
 to understand through Baron de Nucingen that the 
 sheet would be tacitly indulgent to the government, 
 on the single condition that support should be given 
 his candidacy for the succession to Monsieur de 
 Nucingen, soon to be made a peer of France, who 
 sat in the Chamber for a sort of rotten borough with 
 very few electors, where the paper was sent gratis 
 in profusion. 
 
 Thus Raoul was fooled by the banker and the ad- 
 vocate, who took infinite delight in seeing him on 
 his throne at the office of the newspaper, making 
 the most of all his chances, reaping all the fruits of 
 selfishness or of other qualities. Nathan was de- 
 lighted with them, and, as at the time of his request 
 for funds with which to stock his stable, thought 
 them the best fellows in the world; he believed 
 that he was fooling them. 
 
 Men of imagination to whom hope is the essence 
 of life, are never willing to say to themselves that 
 the most perilous moment in matters of business, is 
 that when everything seems to be going on in ac- 
 cordance with their wishes. It was a moment of 
 triumph by which Nathan profited, for he made his 
 appearance in the political and financial world: Du 
 Tillet presented him at Nucingen's house. Madame 
 de Nucingen welcomed Raoul with warmth, less on 
 his own account than on Madame de Vandenesse's; 
 but when she let drop a word or two concerning the 
 countess, he thought that he was wonderfully clever 
 to use Florine as a screen; he descanted with
 
 328 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 fatuous generosity upon his relations with the 
 actress, which it was impossible for him to break. 
 Does a man abandon certain happiness for the 
 coquetries of the Faubourg Saint-Germain? 
 
 Nathan, hoodwinked by Nucingen and Rastignac, 
 by Du Tillet and Blondet, pompously accorded his 
 support to the doctrinaires in the formation of one 
 of their ephemeral cabinets. Then, in order to go 
 into business with clean hands, he declined, with a 
 great show of disdain, to accept a share in certain 
 enterprises that were floated with the assistance of 
 his paper, a man who did not hesitate to com- 
 promise his friends and to deal in a way that showed 
 no nice sense of honor with certain manufacturing 
 concerns at divers critical moments ! Such contrasts, 
 engendered by vanity or by ambition, are to be 
 found in many similar lives. The outer cloak must 
 be made to appear magnificent to the public, so a 
 man borrows cloth from his friends to cover the 
 holes. Nevertheless, two months after the coun- 
 tess's departure, Raoul had a disagreeable quarter 
 of an hour which caused him some anxiety in the 
 midst of his triumph. Du Tillet had advanced a 
 hundred thousand francs. The money furnished by 
 Florine, a third of the original capital, had been 
 eaten up by the public charges and the enormous 
 expenses attending the first establishment of the 
 paper. It was necessary to provide for the future. 
 The banker accommodated the editor by taking his 
 notes of hand at four months for fifty thousand 
 francs. Thus Du Tillet held Raoul by the halter
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 329 
 
 of the note of hand. This supplementary contri- 
 bution supplied the paper with funds for six months. 
 In the eyes of some writers, six months are an eter- 
 nity. Moreover, by ingenious advertising, by em- 
 ploying a number of agents, and by offering illusory 
 advantages to subscribers, they had scraped together 
 two thousand of them. This partial success encour- 
 aged Raoul to throw banknotes into the furnace. 
 Given a little more talent, let a political prosecu- 
 tion be undertaken against them, or something that 
 might pass for persecution, and Raoul would become 
 one of the modern condottieri whose ink is more 
 effective to-day than the gunpowder of former 
 days. 
 
 Unfortunately this arrangement was made before 
 Florine returned with about fifty thousand francs. 
 Instead of creating a reserve fund, Raoul, sure of 
 success, because he saw that success was necessary, 
 humiliated at having already accepted money from 
 the actress, dazzled by the insidious laudation of his 
 flatterers, and feeling in his heart that his love had 
 ennobled him, deceived Florine as to his position 
 and forced her to use the money in refurnishing her 
 house. Under the existing circumstances it was 
 essential to make a magnificent show. The actress, 
 who did not need to be urged, burdened herself with 
 debts to the amount of thirty thousand francs. She 
 had a charming house all to herself, on Rue Pigalle, 
 where all her former coterie reassembled. The 
 house of a damsel in Florine's position was neutral 
 ground, very favorable for the ambitious politicians,
 
 330 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 who did as Louis XIV. did in Holland: made treaties 
 under Raoul's roof without Raoul. 
 
 Nathan had held in reserve for Florine's reappear- 
 ance, a play in which the principal part was admir- 
 ably suited to her abilities. This vaudeville-drama 
 was to be Raoul's farewell to the stage. The news- 
 papers, who incurred no expense by reason of this 
 act of complaisance for Raoul, premeditated such an 
 ovation to Florine that the Comedie-Francaise 
 talked about offering her an engagement. The 
 critics declared that Florine was the heir of Made- 
 moiselle Mars. This triumph turned the actress's 
 head to a sufficient extent to interfere with her 
 study of the course Nathan was pursuing; she was 
 living in a whirl of fe"tes and banquets. Queen of 
 a court filled with a pressing throng of petitioners, 
 one for his book, another for his play, another for 
 his ballet-dancer, another for his theatre, another 
 for his enterprise, another for an article, she aban- 
 doned herself to all the delights of the power of the 
 press, seeing therein the dawn of ministerial in- 
 fluence. To judge from what was said by those 
 who frequented her salon, Nathan was a great poli- 
 tician. Nathan had shown good judgment in his 
 venture, he would be a deputy, and certainly a 
 minister before long, like so many others before 
 him. 
 
 Actresses rarely say no to anyone who flatters 
 them. Florine was credited with too much talent 
 in thefeuilleton to distrust the paper and those who 
 conducted it. She knew too little of the mechanism
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 331 
 
 of the press to trouble herself about the means. 
 Girls of Florine's stamp never look at anything but 
 results. As for Nathan, he believed, from that 
 time on, that at the next session he would take a 
 hand in affairs, with two former journalists, one of 
 whom, then a minister, was trying to turn out his 
 colleagues in order to strengthen himself. 
 
 Nathan was delighted to see Florine again after 
 her six months' absence, and nonchalantly fell back 
 into his old ways. The coarse woof of his life he 
 secretly embellished with the loveliest flowers of 
 his ideal passion, and with the pleasure Florine 
 strewed thereon. His letters to Marie were master- 
 pieces of love, grace and style. Nathan made her 
 the light of his life, he undertook nothing without 
 consulting his good genius. In despair at being on 
 the popular side, there were moments when he 
 longed to espouse the cause of the aristocracy ; but, 
 accustomed though he was to feats of agility, it 
 seemed to him absolutely impossible to leap from 
 the Left to the Right; it was easier to become a 
 minister. Marie's precious letters were deposited 
 in one of the portfolios with secret compartments 
 put on the market by Huret or Fichet, the two in- 
 ventors who were carrying on a war of advertise- 
 ments and placards in Paris as to which could make 
 the safest and most reliable locks. This portfolio 
 was kept in Florine's new boudoir, where Raoul 
 worked. No one is so easy to deceive as a woman 
 to whom one is accustomed to tell everything; she 
 is suspicious of nothing, because she thinks that
 
 332 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 she sees and knows everything. Moreover, since 
 her return the actress was a witness of Raoul's 
 whole life, and could see nothing irregular in it 
 She would never have imagined that the portfolio, 
 which she had hardly noticed, and which was kept 
 locked without any affectation of mystery, contained 
 treasures of love, a rival's letters, which, at Raoul's 
 request, the countess directed to the office of the 
 paper. 
 
 Nathan then seemed to occupy an extremely bril- 
 liant position. He had many friends. Two plays 
 written in collaboration, which had just been suc- 
 cessful, provided funds to gratify his luxurious 
 tastes and banished all anxiety for the future. Nor 
 did he worry at all concerning his debt to his friend 
 DuTillet 
 
 "How can a man distrust a friend?" he would 
 say, when Blondet, as sometimes happened, ex- 
 pressed some apprehension, induced by his habit of 
 analyzing everything. 
 
 "But we have no need to distrust even our ene- 
 mies," said Florine. 
 
 Nathan defended Du Tillet Du Tillet was the 
 kindest, the most obliging, the most upright of men. 
 This sort of rope-walker's existence without a bal- 
 ancing-pole would have horrified anyone, even the 
 most indifferent, if he could have penetrated the 
 mystery; but Du Tillet contemplated it with the 
 stoicism and dry eye of a parvenu. There was a 
 sort of fiendish mockery in the friendly good-humor 
 of his treatment of Nathan. One day he shook
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 333 
 
 hands with him as they left Florine's house together 
 and watched him enter his cabriolet 
 
 "That fellow goes to the Bois de Boulogne in 
 magnificent style," he said to Lousteau, the envious 
 man par excellence, "and in six months' time perhaps 
 he'll beatClichy." 
 
 "He? Never!" cried Lousteau; "Florine's on 
 hand." 
 
 "How do you know, my boy, that he'll keep her? 
 As for you, you're worth a thousand of him, and 
 you'll certainly be our editor-in-chief six months 
 from now."
 
 In October, the notes of hand fell due; Du Tillet 
 obligingly renewed them, but for two months only, 
 and increased in amount by the discount and a new 
 loan. Sure of victory, Raoul drained the very 
 springs dry. Madame Felix de Vandenesse was to 
 return in a few days, a month earlier than usual, 
 drawn back to Paris by a frenzied longing to see 
 Nathan, who did not choose to be at the mercy 
 of a lack of money when he resumed his militant 
 life. 
 
 Correspondence, in which the pen is always bolder 
 than the tongue, in which the thought, clothed in its 
 flowers, touches upon every subject and can say what 
 it will, had brought the countess to the highest pitch 
 of exaltation ; she saw in Raoul one of the most 
 transcendent geniuses of the age, an exquisite, mis- 
 understood heart, without stain and worthy of ado- 
 ration ; she saw him fearlessly putting forth his hand 
 to stay the prodigality of the ruling powers. Soon 
 that voice, so sweet in love, would thunder from the 
 tribune. Marie's life ran in interlaced circles like 
 those of a sphere, at whose centre is the world. 
 With no inclination for the tranquil pleasures of 
 home, she welcomed the excitement of this tempest- 
 uous life, communicated by a clever, loving pen; 
 she kissed the letters penned amid the smoke of 
 battles of the press, in moments stolen from his 
 
 (335)
 
 336 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 hours of study; she was conscious of their value; 
 she was sure that she filled his whole heart, that 
 she had no rivals save glory and ambition; she 
 found means in her solitude to exert all her strength, 
 she was happy that she had chosen well : Nathan 
 was an angel. 
 
 Fortunately her absence in the country and the 
 obstacles that existed between Raoul and herself 
 had silenced the slanderous tongues of the world. 
 So during the last days of autumn, they resumed 
 their drives in the Bois de Boulogne; they could 
 meet nowhere else until the salons were once more 
 thrown open. Raoul was able to enjoy more at ease 
 the pure, exquisite delights of his ideal life and 
 conceal it from Florine: he worked a little less as 
 matters were running smoothly at the newspaper 
 office and each editor knew what he had to do. He 
 involuntarily made comparisons, always to the ad- 
 vantage of the actress, and yet the countess lost 
 nothing in his sight 
 
 Overspent anew by the manoeuvres which his 
 passion of head and heart for a woman at the top of 
 the social ladder compelled him to perform, Raoul 
 put forth superhuman strength in order to be in 
 three places at once : in society, at his office and in 
 the wings. At the time when Florine, who was 
 grateful to him for everything, who almost shared 
 his labors and his anxiety, was flitting in and out, 
 pouring out genuine happiness upon him in streams, 
 without high-flown phrases, without any accompani- 
 ment of remorse, the countess, with her insatiable
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 337 
 
 eyes and her chaste corsage, forgot his gigantic 
 labors and the pains he often took to see her for an 
 instant. Instead of domineering over him, Florine 
 allowed him to take her up and put her down and 
 take her up again like a cat that falls upon its feet 
 and shakes its ears. Such easy-going morals are in 
 admirable accord with the inclinations of men who 
 live by their thoughts, and any artist would have 
 made the most of them, as Nathan did, without 
 abandoning the pursuit of his beautiful ideal love, 
 that noble passion which fascinated his poetic in- 
 stincts, his secret dreams of grandeur, his social 
 vanity. Fully realizing the crash that would follow 
 any indiscretion, he would say to himself : "Neither 
 the countess nor Florine will ever know anything 
 about it!" They were so far removed from each 
 other ! 
 
 With the beginning of winter, Raoul reappeared 
 in society at his apogee : he was almost a personage. 
 Rastignac, who had fallen with the ministry when 
 it went to pieces at De Marsay's death, leaned upon 
 Raoul and bolstered him up by his laudation. Ma- 
 dame de Vandenesse thereupon determined to find 
 out if her husband had changed his opinion with 
 regard to him, a year having elapsed. So she ques- 
 tioned him anew, thinking to be revenged on him 
 in brilliant style a thing that all women, even the 
 noblest, the least worldly, thoroughly enjoy ; for it 
 would be perfectly safe to wager that the angels do 
 not lay aside their self-esteem when they gather 
 about the Holy of Holies. 
 
 22
 
 338 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "The only thing he lacked was to be the dupe of 
 schemers," the count replied. 
 
 Felix, whose experience of the world and of poli- 
 tics made him very clear-sighted, had fathomed 
 Raoul's position. He calmly explained to his wife 
 that Fieschi's exploit had resulted in attaching 
 many lukewarm men to the interests threatened in 
 the person of King Louis-Philippe. Newspapers, 
 whose colors were not sharply defined, would lose 
 subscribers, for journalism was going to be simpli- 
 fied with politics. If Nathan had put his fortune 
 into his newspaper, he would soon come to the end 
 of his rope. This opinion was so clear and so 
 reasonable, although expressed in few words as an 
 off-hand answer to a question in which he took no 
 interest, by a man who was a shrewd calculator of 
 the chances of all parties, that it alarmed Madame 
 de Vandenesse. 
 
 "Are you so deeply interested in him?" Felix 
 asked his wife. 
 
 "Only as a man whose wit amuses me and whom 
 I like to talk with." 
 
 This reply was made in so perfectly natural a 
 tone that the count suspected nothing. 
 
 The next day at four o'clock, at Madame d'Es- 
 pard's, Marie and Raoul had a long, whispered con- 
 versation. The countess expressed fears which 
 Raoul dissipated, only too happy to crush Felix's 
 conjugal grandeur with epigrams. He proceeded to 
 take his revenge. He described the count as a man 
 of small mind and behind the times, who would
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 339 
 
 measure the Revolution of July with the yardstick 
 of the Restoration, who refused to recognize the 
 triumph of the middle-class, the new force in soci- 
 ety, and a genuine force whether temporary or last- 
 ing. Great noblemen were no longer possible, the 
 reign of actual superiority had arrived. Instead of 
 taking to heart the indirect, impartial judgment of 
 an experienced politician dispassionately replying 
 to questions, Raoul strutted about on stilts and 
 draped himself in the purple robes of his success. 
 What woman is there who has not more faith in her 
 lover than in her husband ? So Madame de Vande- 
 nesse, relieved of her apprehensions, entered upon 
 the life of repressed vexations, of trifling stolen 
 pleasures, of clandestine pressures of the hand, her 
 sustenance of the preceding winter, a life which 
 ends in leading a woman beyond bounds when the 
 man she loves has some resolution and is impatient 
 of obstacles. 
 
 Luckily for her, Raoul, appeased by Florine, was 
 not dangerous. Moreover, he was bound hand and 
 foot by important interests which made it impossi- 
 ble for him to take advantage of his good fortune. 
 Nevertheless, any sudden disaster befalling him, 
 fresh obstacles, or a fit of impatience might hurry 
 the countess into an abyss. Raoul caught a glimpse 
 of such a tendency on her part, when Du Tillet, 
 toward the end of December, called for payment of 
 his notes. The rich banker, who said that he was 
 pressed for money, advised Raoul to borrow the 
 money for a fortnight from a usurer, Gigonnet, for
 
 340 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 instance, the providence at twenty-five per cent of 
 all youths in straitened circumstances. In a few 
 days, the paper would effect its grand January re- 
 newals, there would be money in the cash-box, and 
 then Du Tillet would see. Indeed, why should not 
 Nathan write a play? From sheer pride, Nathan 
 was determined to pay the notes at any price. Du 
 Tillet gave him a letter to the usurer, where- 
 upon Gigonnet advanced the money on notes of 
 hand drawn at twenty days. Instead of seeking 
 for an explanation of his readiness to oblige, Raoul 
 was angry with himself for not asking for more. 
 Many men of the most eminent intellectual powers 
 act in the same way; they see food for jesting 
 in matters of serious importance; they seem to 
 keep their mind in reserve for their works, and 
 make no use of it in everyday life for fear of 
 cheapening it. 
 
 Raoul described his morning's experience to Flo- 
 rine and Blondet; he sketched Gigonnet for them to 
 the life, his little papier de Rkveillon, his staircase, 
 his asthmatic bell and the stag's foot bell-pull, his 
 little worn-out straw pallet, his hearth, where there 
 was no more fire than in his eyes; he made them 
 laugh heartily over this new uncle of his; they were 
 not disturbed at the thought of Du Tillet in need of 
 money or of a usurer so ready to open his cash-box. 
 It was all caprice! 
 
 "He only charged you fifteen per cent," said 
 Blondet, "and you ought to be very grateful to 
 him. At twenty-five per cent we stop bowing to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 341 
 
 them; usury begins at fifty per cent: at that figure 
 we despise them." 
 
 "Despise them!" said Florine. "Who is there 
 among your friends who would loan you money at 
 that rate without posing as your benefactor?" 
 
 "She is right, I am lucky not to owe Du Tillet 
 anything any more," said Raoul. 
 
 Why is it that men who are accustomed to look 
 thoroughly into everything are so deficient in pene- 
 tration in their own private affairs? Perhaps it is 
 that the mind can not be completely equipped in 
 every direction, perhaps artists live too entirely in 
 the present to study the future, perhaps they keep 
 their eyes too closely upon trivial things to see a 
 trap, and believe that no one dares play a trick on 
 them. 
 
 The future was not slow in arriving. Twenty 
 days later, the notes were protested; but at the 
 Tribunal de Commerce, Florine demanded and ob- 
 tained twenty-five days in which to provide for 
 their payment Raoul looked about to see where 
 he stood, and requested an accounting; the result 
 was that the receipts of the newspaper covered two- 
 thirds of the outgo, and that the subscription list 
 was dwindling. The great man became anxious 
 and gloomy, but only to Florine, to whom he con- 
 fided his troubles. Florine advised him to realize 
 on the plays he was writing, by selling them out- 
 right, and to assign his receipts from his other 
 plays. In this way, he procured twenty thousand 
 francs and reduced his debt to forty thousand.
 
 342 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 On February tenth, the twenty-five days expired. 
 Du Tillet, who did not choose to have Nathan for 
 a rival in the electoral college at which he proposed 
 to offer himself as a candidate, leaving to Massol 
 another college that was at the disposal of the 
 ministry, ordered Gigonnet to pursue him to the 
 last ditch. A man imprisoned for debt can not offer 
 himself as a candidate for the Chamber. The 
 debtor's prison at Clichy was destined to swallow 
 the future minister. Florine herself was in constant 
 communication with the bailiffs by reason of her 
 personal debts ; and in this crisis she had no other 
 resource than the Myself! of Medea, for her furni- 
 ture was seized. The ambitious creature heard the 
 cracking sounds of approaching destruction in all 
 parts of his newly-erected structure, built with no 
 foundation. He knew that he lacked the necessary 
 strength to carry on so vast an undertaking, much 
 less was he capable of beginning it anew; so he 
 must perish in the ruins of his dream. His love for 
 the countess still afforded him some few gleams of 
 life; it gave animation to his mask, but within, 
 hope was dead. He did not suspect Du Tillet, he 
 saw nobody's hand but the usurer's. Rastignac, 
 Blondet, Lousteau, Vernou, Finot, Massol were care- 
 ful not to enlighten a man who could on occasion 
 exhibit such perilous activity. Rastignac, who 
 wanted to return to power, made common cause 
 with Nucingen and Du Tillet. The others experi- 
 enced infinite delight in contemplating the death- 
 agony of one of their equals, guilty of having
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 343 
 
 attempted to be their master. Not one of them would 
 have said a word to Florine; on the other hand, they 
 praised Raoul to her. 
 
 "Nathan's shoulders were broad enough to hold 
 up the world, he would get out of it, and everything 
 would go on all right!" 
 
 "We got two new subscribers yesterday," said 
 Blondet gravely; "Raoul will be a deputy. As soon 
 as the budget is voted, the order for dissolution will 
 appear." 
 
 As Nathan had been sued, he could no longer ex- 
 pect assistance from usurers. As Florine's furniture 
 had been seized, she had nothing to look to, save the 
 chance of inspiring a passion in some idiot, who 
 never turns up at the proper time. Nathan's 
 friends were all men without money or credit. An 
 arrest would destroy his hopes of political advance- 
 ment. To cap the climax of his woes, he was 
 pledged to perform a vast amount of work for which 
 he had been paid in advance; he could see no bot- 
 tom to the abyss of misery in which he was soon to 
 be plunged. In presence of so many threatened 
 disasters, his audacity deserted him. Would the 
 Comtesse de Vandenesse cleave to him, would she 
 fly with him ? Women are never impelled to take 
 that step unless by absolute, undivided love, and 
 their passion had not knitted them together by the 
 mysterious ties of happpiness. But even if the 
 countess should go abroad with him, she would be 
 without means, stripped bare of all her property, 
 and would be an additional burden.
 
 344 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 A second-rate mind, a vain man like Nathan, 
 was certain to see and he did thereupon see in sui- 
 cide the blade that would cut these Gordian knots. 
 The idea of falling from his pedestal in the sight of 
 the social circle into which he had made his way 
 and which he had sought to master, of leaving the 
 countess there, triumphant, and of becoming once 
 more a base foot-soldier, was not to be endured. 
 Folly danced and jingled her bells at the door of 
 the imaginary palace in which the poet dwelt In 
 his extremity, Nathan awaited a possible stroke of 
 luck and did not propose to kill himself until the 
 last moment 
 
 During the last days, while the judgment was 
 being certified and the petition for arrest and order 
 thereon issued, Raoul's face wore, wherever he 
 went, the ominously indifferent expression which 
 keen observers have noticed in all men predisposed 
 to suicide, or who are contemplating it. The 
 ghastly ideas they are caressing cause grayish 
 clouds to settle upon their brow; their smile has an 
 indefinable suggestion of fatality; their movements 
 are solemn. The wretched creatures seem to be 
 determined to consume the gilded fruit of life to the 
 core; their eyes search the heart on every occasion ; 
 they hear their funeral knell in the air and are un- 
 mindful of their surroundings. 
 
 Marie noticed these alarming symptoms one 
 evening at Lady Dudley's; Raoul had remained 
 behind, alone, upon a divan in the boudoir, while 
 everybody was talking in the salon; the countess
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 345 
 
 went to the door, he did not raise his head; he 
 heard neither her breath nor the rustling of her silk 
 dress ; he was staring at a flower in the carpet with 
 eyes dazed with suffering; he preferred death to 
 abdication. Everybody has not Saint-Helena for a 
 pedestal. Moreover, suicide was king in Paris at 
 this time; is it not always the last word of societies 
 wavering in their faith? Raoul had made up his 
 mind to die. Despair is proportioned to the hopes 
 that it succeeds, and Raoul's had no other issue than 
 the tomb. 
 
 "What's the matter?" said Marie, flying to his 
 side. 
 
 "Nothing," he replied. 
 
 There is a way of saying that word nothing, be- 
 tween lovers, that means just the opposite. Marie 
 shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "You're a perfect child!" said she. "Has any 
 thing gone wrong with you?" 
 
 "Not with me. However, you'll know it all too 
 soon, Marie," he replied, affectionately. 
 
 "What were you thinking about when I came 
 in?" she demanded authoritatively. 
 
 "Do you want to know the truth?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "I was thinking of you; I was saying to myself 
 that many men in my place would have insisted 
 upon being loved unreservedly; I am, am I not?" 
 
 "Yes," she said. 
 
 "And I leave you pure and with no remorse," 
 continued Raoul, putting his arm around her and
 
 346 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 drawing her to him to kiss her forehead, at the risk 
 of being surprised. "I might drag you into the pit, 
 but you will remain in all your glory without a 
 stain, on the brink. There is one thought that 
 troubles me, however " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "You will despise me?" 
 
 She smiled superbly. 
 
 "Yes, you will never believe in the holiness of 
 my love; and then people will abuse me, I know. 
 Women do not imagine that from the depths of our 
 slime we raise our eyes to heaven, there to worship 
 with our whole heart, a Marie. They mix up this 
 sanctified love with paltry questions, they do not 
 understand that men of lofty intelligence and poetic 
 temperament can detach their minds from mere 
 enjoyment in order to keep it in reserve, to worship 
 at some cherished altar. But, Marie, the worship of 
 the ideal is more fervent with us than with you : we 
 find it in the woman who does not look for it in 
 us." 
 
 "Why this deliverance?" said she jestingly, like 
 a woman who was sure of herself. 
 
 "I am leaving France; to-morrow you will learn 
 why and how, by a letter that my valet will bring 
 you. Adieu, Marie!" 
 
 He rushed from the room after straining the 
 countess to his heart in a fierce embrace, and left 
 her stupefied with grief.
 
 "Pray, what has happened, my dear," said the 
 Marquise d'Espard, entering the room in search of 
 the countess; "what did Monsieur Nathan say to 
 you? He left us with a most melodramatic air. 
 You are too reasonable, perhaps, or too unreason- 
 able." 
 
 The countess took Madame d'Espard's arm and 
 returned to the salon, taking her departure a few 
 moments later. 
 
 "Perhaps she's going to her first rendezvous," 
 suggested Lady Dudley to the marchioness. 
 
 "I will find out," replied Madame d'Espard; and 
 she too left the house and followed the countess's 
 carriage. 
 
 But Madame de Vandenesse's coupe went in the 
 direction of Faubourg Saint-Honore. When Ma- 
 dame d'Espard entered her own courtyard, she saw 
 the Comtesse Felix driving on through the faubourg 
 on her way to Rue du Rocher. 
 
 Marie went to bed, but was unable to sleep, and 
 passed the night reading a voyage to the North Pole 
 without understanding a word of it At half-past 
 eight she received a letter from Raoul and hurriedly 
 tore it open. The letter began with these classic 
 words : 
 
 "My dearest love, when you receive this letter, I 
 shall be no more " 
 
 (347)
 
 348 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 She did not finish, but crumpled the paper ner- 
 vously in her hand, rang for her maid, hastily 
 donned a peignoir, thrust her feet into the first shoes 
 that came to hand, wrapped herself in a shawl and 
 put on a hat; then she went out, bidding her maid 
 tell the count that she had gone to see her sister, 
 Madame du Tillet. 
 
 "Where did you leave your master?" she asked 
 RaouPs servant 
 
 "At the office of his newspaper." 
 
 "Let us go there," she said. 
 
 To the great astonishment of her servants, she 
 left the house on foot, before nine o'clock, evidently 
 under the influence of intense excitement. Luckily 
 for her, the maid informed the count that madame 
 had just received a letter from Madame du Tillet 
 which gave her a terrible shock, and that she had 
 hurried off to her sister's with the servant who 
 brought her the letter. Vandenesse awaited his 
 wife's return to find out what it all meant. 
 
 The countess entered a cab and was driven rapidly 
 to the office of the newspaper. At that hour, the 
 huge rooms occupied by the paper, in an old mansion 
 on Rue Feydeau, were deserted ; nobody was to be 
 found but an office-boy, who was greatly aston- 
 ished to see a pretty young woman rushing wildly 
 through the rooms, asking where Monsieur Nathan 
 was. 
 
 "He's at Mademoiselle Florine's, of course," he 
 replied, taking the countess for a jealous rival who 
 was intending to make a scene.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 349 
 
 "Where does he work when he is here?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "In an orifice, the key of which he carries in his 
 pocket" 
 
 "I wish to go there." 
 
 The boy led her to a small, dark room looking on 
 a rear courtyard, formerly a dressing-room attached 
 to a large bedroom, the alcove of which had not been 
 destroyed. The office was at right angles with the 
 bedroom. By opening the window of the latter, the 
 countess could look through the office window and 
 see what was taking place there: Nathan was 
 sitting in the armchair of the editor-in-chief, writhing 
 in the death-agony. 
 
 "Break in the door and say nothing! I will buy 
 your silence," she said. "Don't you see that Mon- 
 sieur Nathan is dying?" 
 
 The boy ran to the printing-office for an iron form 
 with which to break in the door. Raoul was dying 
 of suffocation, like a common seamstress, through 
 the medium of a chafing-dish of charcoal. He had 
 just finished a letter to Blondet in which he begged 
 him to give it out that his suicide was a stroke of 
 apoplexy. The countess arrived in time; she 
 ordered Raoul to be carried out to the cab, and hav- 
 ing no idea where to take him to procure proper 
 care, she drove to a hotel, took a room there and 
 sent the office-boy for a doctor. 
 
 In a few hours, Raoul was out of danger ; but the 
 countess did not leave his bedside until she had ob- 
 tained from him a general confession. After the
 
 350 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 ambitious castaway had poured into her heart the 
 pitiable elegiacs of his sorrow, she returned home 
 a prey to all the torturing thoughts that had besieged 
 Raoul the night before. 
 
 "I will arrange everything," she had said to him, 
 to induce him to live. 
 
 "Well, what's the matter with your sister?" 
 Felix asked his wife when she joined him. "There's 
 a tremendous change in you, I should say." 
 
 "It's a terrible story and I must keep it absolutely 
 secret," she replied, summoning all her strength in 
 order to appear calm. 
 
 In order to be alone and to think at her ease, she 
 went in the evening to the Italiens, and thence to 
 pour out her heart into Madame du Tillet's, to whom 
 she described the scene of the morning, asking her 
 advice and assistance. Neither of them knew that 
 Du Tillet had kindled the fire in the vulgar chafing- 
 dish, the sight of which had terrified Comtesse Felix 
 de Vandenesse. 
 
 "He has nobody but me in the world," said Marie 
 to her sister, "and I'll not fail him." 
 
 That declaration contains the secret of all women's 
 hearts: they are heroic when they are certain that 
 they are all the world to a great man of irreproach- 
 able character. 
 
 Du Tillet had heard the story, more or less prob- 
 able, of his sister-in-law's passion for Nathan ; but 
 he was one of those who denied it or deemed it in- 
 compatible with the liaison between Raoul and 
 Florine. The actress would be sure to drive away
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 351 
 
 the countess, or vice versa. But when, upon re- 
 turning home that evening, he found there his sis- 
 ter-in-law, in whose face he had noticed at the 
 Italiens, abundant evidences of intense emotion, he 
 guessed that Raoul had confided his plight to her; in 
 that case the countess was in love with him and had 
 come to ask Marie-Eugenie for the amount due 
 Gigonnet Madame du Tillet, who was unac- 
 quainted with the secret of what seemed supernat- 
 ural penetration, exhibited such dismay that Du 
 Tillet's suspicions changed to certainty. The 
 banker believed that he could soon hold in his hand 
 the thread of Nathan's intrigues. 
 
 No one knew the poor fellow lying in bed in a fur- 
 nished hotel on Rue du Mail, under the name of the 
 office-boy, to whom the countess had promised five 
 hundred francs if he held his tongue touching the 
 events of the night and morning. So Francois Quillet 
 had taken the precaution to say to the concierge that 
 Nathan had been taken sick as the result of overwork. 
 
 Du Tillet was not surprised that he did not find 
 Nathan at the office. It was natural that the jour- 
 nalist should go into hiding to elude the people sent 
 to arrest him. When the spies arrived to make in- 
 quiries, they learned that a lady had come in the 
 morning and taken the editor-in-chief away. Two 
 days passed before they discovered the number of 
 the cab, questioned the driver, found and searched 
 the hotel where the debtor was coming back to life. 
 Thus the wise measures taken by Majie had pro- 
 cured Nathan a reprieve of three days.
 
 352 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 Each of the two sisters passed a miserable night. 
 Such a catastrophe casts the gleam of its charcoal 
 over the whole life ; it lights up the shoals and reefs, 
 rather than the mountain-tops which have thus far 
 engrossed the attention. Deeply impressed by the 
 horrible spectacle of a young man dying in his 
 chair, before his journal, writing down his last 
 thoughts & la Romaine, poor Madame du Tillet could 
 think of nothing but assisting him and restoring life 
 to that heart in which her sister lived. 
 
 It is natural to the human mind to look to effects 
 before analyzing causes. Eugenie upon reflection 
 thought well of her plan of applying to Baronne 
 Delphine de Nucingen, with whom she was to dine 
 the next night, and she did not doubt that she 
 should be successful. Madame du Tillet, great- 
 hearted, as are all those who have not been crushed 
 between the polished steel rollers of modern society, 
 resolved to take everything upon herself. 
 
 The countess, happy in that she had already 
 saved Nathan's life, passed the night inventing 
 schemes to procure forty thousand francs. At such 
 crises, women are sublime. Guided by sentiment, 
 they arrive at combinations that would surprise 
 thieves, business men and usurers, if those three 
 classes of toilers, licensed or not, were ever sur- 
 prised at anything. The countess thought she 
 would sell her diamonds, and wear false ones. She 
 decided to ask Vandenesse for the money for her 
 sister, whom she had already compromised; but she 
 had too much nobility of soul not to recoil from
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 353 
 
 dishonorable means; they were conceived only to be 
 rejected. Vandenesse's money to Nathan! She 
 jumped up in her bed, terrified at her own wicked- 
 ness. Wear false diamonds! her husband would 
 discover it sooner or later. She would go to the 
 Rothschilds who had so much money and ask them 
 for the amount she needed, to the Archbishop of 
 Paris whose duty it was to succor the poor, rush- 
 ing from one religion to another, imploring help 
 from all. She deplored the fact that her family was 
 no longer in the government; the time had been 
 when she could have borrowed the money on the 
 outskirts of the throne. She thought of applying 
 to her father. But the old magistrate had a horror 
 of anything illegal ; his children had learned at last 
 how little he sympathized with the misfortunes of 
 love ; he would not allow them to be mentioned, he 
 had become a misanthrope ; he held every sort of 
 intrigue in abomination. As for the Comtesse de 
 Granville, she was living in retirement in Nor- 
 mandy, on one of her estates, ending her days be- 
 tween priests and bags of gold, cold to the last. 
 Even if Marie had had time to reach Bayeux, would 
 her mother give her so much money without know- 
 ing what use would be made of it? Would she 
 imagine it was to pay debts? Yes, perhaps she 
 would allow herself to be softened by her favorite. 
 Well then, in case of failure, the countess would go 
 to Normandy. The Comte de Granville would not 
 refuse to furnish her with an excuse for the 
 journey by sending her word of a fictitious serious 
 23
 
 354 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 illness from which his wife was supposed to be 
 suffering. 
 
 The lamentable spectacle that had horrified her 
 in the morning, the care she had lavished upon 
 Nathan, the hours passed at his bedside, his broken 
 narratives, the death agony of a noble mind, the 
 theft of genius arrested in its career by a common- 
 place, ignoble obstacle, everything crowded in upon 
 her memory to stimulate her love. She reviewed 
 her emotions and felt that she was even more capti- 
 vated by misery than by grandeur. Would she 
 have kissed that brow if it had worn the crown of 
 success? No. To her mind, there was infinite 
 nobleness in the last words Nathan had said to her 
 in Lady Dudley's boudoir. What sanctity in that 
 farewell ! How noble to sacrifice happiness which 
 would have become a means of torture to her ! The 
 countess had longed for emotion in her life; it 
 abounded there, intense and cruel, but dear to her 
 heart. She lived more completely by sorrow than 
 by joy. With what ecstasy she said to herself: "1 
 have saved him once, I will save him again!" She 
 heard him crying: "Only the unfortunate know 
 how far love can go!" when he felt her lips laid 
 upon his forehead. 
 
 "Are you sick?" her husband asked her, when 
 he went to her room to summon her to breakfast. 
 
 "I am horribly upset by the drama that's being 
 enacted at my sister's," said she, without telling a 
 falsehood. 
 
 "She has fallen into bad hands; it's a disgrace to
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 355 
 
 the family to have a Du Tillet in it, a base-born 
 creature; if anything should happen to your sister 
 she would get very little pity from him." 
 
 "What woman is satisfied with pity?" said the 
 countess with a convulsive movement "When 
 you show no pity, your severity is a boon to us." 
 
 "I have known your nobleness of heart before 
 to-day," said Felix, kissing his wife's hand, and 
 deeply touched by this outburst of pride. "A 
 woman who thinks like that doesn't need to be 
 watched. ' ' 
 
 "Watched!" she repeated. "More shame that 
 reacts upon you." 
 
 Felix smiled, but Marie blushed. When a woman 
 is doing wrong in secret, she carries her woman's 
 pride in public to the highest possible point It is 
 a little piece of dissimulation for which we must 
 bear her no ill-will. Deception at such times 
 abounds in dignity, if not in grandeur. 
 
 Marie wrote a line to Nathan, under the name of 
 Monsieur Quillet, to tell him that all was going well, 
 and sent it by a messenger to the Hotel du Mail. 
 In the evening, at the Opera, the countess reaped 
 the benefit of her falsehoods, for it seemed perfectly 
 natural to her husband that she should leave her box 
 to call upon her sister. Felix waited until Du Tillet 
 had left his wife alone before he gave her his arm 
 to escort her thither. With what intense emotion 
 Marie's heart was filled as she hurried through the 
 corridor, entered her sister's box and took her seat 
 there with a calm and serene expression before the
 
 356 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 world of fashion which opened its eyes to see them 
 together ! 
 
 "Well?" said she. 
 
 Marie-Eugenie's face was an answer in itself; it 
 fairly beamed with artless delight which many peo- 
 ple attributed to satisfied vanity. 
 
 "He will be saved, my dear, but for three months 
 only, and, in the meantime, we'll think up some 
 way to assist him more permanently. Madame de 
 Nucingen wants four notes for ten thousand francs 
 each signed by anybody, no matter who it is, so 
 that you shall not be compromised. She explained 
 to me how they must be made ; I didn't understand 
 a word of it, but Monsieur Nathan will write them 
 for you. I simply thought Schmucke, our old 
 teacher, might help us out of the difficulty; he 
 would sign them. If you send with the four notes 
 a letter in which you guarantee their payment, Ma- 
 dame de Nucingen will let you have the money to- 
 morrow. Do everything yourself, don't trust a 
 soul. I don't think Schmucke will have any objec- 
 tions to make. To avoid suspicion on her part, I 
 said that you wanted to oblige our old music-teacher, 
 a German who has had bad luck. So I was justified 
 in asking her to keep the matter a profound secret " 
 
 "You're as clever as an angel! If only the 
 Baronne de Nucingen won't talk about it until she's 
 given me the money!" said the countess, raising 
 her eyes as if to implore God's assistance although 
 she was at the Opera. 
 
 "Schmucke lives on Rue de Nevers, that short
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 357 
 
 street on Quai Conti ; don't forget, and go there 
 yourself." 
 
 "Thank you, dear," said the countess pressing 
 her sister's hand. "Ah! I would give ten years of 
 my life" 
 
 "To have in your old age " 
 
 "To put an end to such agony forever," said the 
 countess, smiling at the interruption. 
 
 All those who had their glasses fixed upon the 
 sisters at that moment, would have believed, observ- 
 ing with admiration their ingenuous laughter, that 
 they were discussing the most trivial matters; but 
 one of those idlers who frequent the Opera rather to 
 scrutinize the toilettes and the faces than to enjoy 
 the music, might have guessed the countess's secret, 
 had he remarked the violent emotion that suddenly 
 extinguished the joyous expression of those two 
 lovely faces. Raoul, who had no occasion to fear 
 the bailiffs at night, appeared, pale and wan, with 
 restless eye and clouded brow, upon the step of the 
 staircase where he usually stood. He looked for 
 the countess in her box, saw that it was empty and 
 hid his face in his hands, resting his elbow on the 
 rail. 
 
 "As if she could be at the Opera!" he thought 
 
 "Pray look at us, you poor great man," said 
 Madame du Tillet in an undertone. 
 
 As for Marie, at the risk of compromising herself, 
 she fixed upon him that piercing, steadfast gaze, in 
 which the will gushed from the eyes, as the waves 
 of light gush from the sun, and which, according to
 
 358 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 the mesmerists, penetrates the being of the person 
 at whom it is directed. Raoul seemed to have been 
 touched by a magic wand; he raised his head and 
 his eye suddenly met those of the two sisters. 
 With the adorable ready wit that never abandons a 
 woman, Madame de Vandenesse seized a cross that 
 lay against her throat, and held it up to him with 
 a rapid, meaning smile. The jewel cast a gleam 
 upon Raoul's brow, and he replied with a joyful ex- 
 pression; he understood. 
 
 "Is it not worth while, Eugenie," said the count- 
 ess to her sister, "to restore a dead man to life in 
 this way?" 
 
 "You are entitled to join the Society to Relieve 
 Shipwrecked Sailors," replied Eugenie, with a 
 smile. 
 
 "How sad and cast down he was when he came, 
 but how happy he will go away!" 
 
 "Well, how are you getting on, my dear boy?" 
 said Du Tillet, accosting Raoul with every appear- 
 ance of friendliness, and pressing his hand. 
 
 "Why, like a man who has just received most 
 encouraging reports of the elections. I shall be 
 elected," replied Raoul, with radiant face. 
 
 "Delighted," rejoined Du Tillet. "We must 
 have some money for the paper soon." 
 
 "We shall find some," said Raoul. 
 
 "Women have the devil on their side!" said Du 
 Tillet without seeming to heed Raoul's words, whom 
 he had dubbed Charnathan. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Raoul.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 359 
 
 "My sister-in-law is in my wife's box," said the 
 banker; "there's some deviltry on hand. The 
 countess seems to be very fond of you, she bows to 
 you across the whole hall." 
 
 "Look," said Madame du Tillet to her sister, 
 "he's lying about us; my husband is wheedling 
 Monsieur Nathan, and he's the man who's trying to 
 put him in prison!" 
 
 "And men accuse us!" cried the countess. "I'll 
 enlighten him." 
 
 She rose, took Vandenesse's arm he was waiting 
 for her in the corridor and returned with radiant 
 face to her box ; then she left the Opera, ordered 
 her carriage to be ready before eight o'clock in the 
 morning, and at half-past eight was on the Quai 
 Conti, having taken Rue du Mail on the way.
 
 The carriage could not drive into the little Rue de 
 Nevers; but as Schmucke lived in a house at the 
 corner of the quay, the countess was not compelled 
 to walk in the mud ; she could almost jump from her 
 carriage-step to the filthy, ruinous hall of the dingy 
 old house, which was patched up with iron rivets 
 like a concierge's crockery, and leaned over the 
 street in a way to alarm passers-by. 
 
 The old precentor lived on the fourth floor, and 
 enjoyed a lovely view of the Seine, from Pont Neuf 
 to the hill of Chaillot. The good creature was so 
 surprised when the footman announced his former 
 pupil that, in his stupefaction, he allowed her to 
 enter his apartment. 
 
 The countess had never imagined nor suspected 
 the manner of existence suddenly revealed to her 
 eyes, although she had long known Schmucke's pro- 
 found contempt for dress and his very slight interest 
 in the things of this world. Who could have con- 
 ceived the absolute freedom and heedlessness of 
 such a life? Schmucke was a musical Diogenes, he 
 was not ashamed of his lack of order ; he would have 
 denied it, he was so used to it The incessant use 
 of a great German pipe had spread over the ceiling, 
 over the wretched paper on the walls, scratched in 
 numberless places by a cat, a yellowish tint, which 
 gave everything in the room the aspect of Ceres' 
 (361)
 
 362 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 golden harvests. The cat, clothed in a magnificent 
 coat of long, tangled, silky hair that would have 
 made a concierge green with envy, was present like 
 the mistress of the house, undisturbed, with a grave 
 bearded face. From the top of a fine Vienna piano 
 where he was sitting magisterially, he cast upon the 
 countess, when she entered, the same simpering yet 
 indifferent glance with which any woman amazed 
 at her beauty would have greeted her. He did not 
 move, he simply waggled the silver threads of his 
 straight moustaches and carried his golden eyes back 
 to Schmucke. The piano, which was a decrepit 
 affair, with a wooden frame painted black and gold, 
 but dirty and dingy and cracked, exhibited a set of 
 keys worn like an old horse's teeth, and yellowed 
 by the fumes of pipe smoke. Little heaps of ashes 
 on the keyboard told how Schmucke had ridden the 
 old instrument to some musical debauch the night 
 before. The floor, covered with dried mud, torn 
 papers, pipe ashes and other inexplicable rubbish, 
 resembled the floor of a boarding school when it has 
 not been swept for a week, whence the servants 
 eject piles of litter fitted for some place between 
 the dungheap and the rag bag. A more practised 
 eye than the countess's would have learned some- 
 thing concerning Schmucke's life from the chestnut 
 shells, apple-parings and eggshells in plates care- 
 lessly broken and dirty with sauerkraut. This 
 German detritus formed a carpet of unclean particles 
 which cracked under the feet and centred about a 
 heap of ashes that descended majestically from a
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 363 
 
 fireplace of painted stone, where a great lump of 
 pit-coal sat enthroned with two sticks of wood pre- 
 tending to burn in front of it Over the fireplace 
 was a pier glass in which faces seemed to be 
 dancing a saraband ; on one side hung the glorious 
 pipe; on the other, was a Chinese jar in which the 
 professor kept his tobacco. Two armchairs pur- 
 chased at second-hand, as was the thin, flat couch, 
 the worm-eaten commode with no marble top, and 
 the rickety table on which were the remains of a 
 frugal breakfast, composed the furniture of the 
 apartment, simple as that of a Mohican's wigwam. 
 A shaving-glass hanging on the sash of the curtain- 
 less window, surmounted by a tattered cloth streaked 
 with dirt where the razor had been cleaned upon it, 
 pointed to the only sacrifice Schmucke was accus- 
 tomed to make to the Graces and to society. The 
 cat, a feeble creature and his protege, was the better 
 favored ; he revelled in an old sofa-cushion beside 
 which were a cup and plate of white porcelain. But 
 the thing that no words can describe was the condi- 
 tion to which Schmucke, his cat and his pipe, a 
 living trinity, had reduced these articles of furni- 
 ture. The pipe had burned the table here and there. 
 The cat and Schmucke's head had smeared the green 
 Utrecht velvet of the two armchairs with grease so 
 thoroughly as to remove its rough surface. Except 
 for the cat's splendid tail, which did its share of the 
 housekeeping, the uncovered places on the commode 
 and the piano would never have been swept In a 
 corner were piled the shoes which none but a Homer
 
 364 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 could enumerate. The tops of the commode and 
 piano were littered with music-books, with cracked 
 worm-eaten backs, and mouldy, whitened corners, 
 where the myriad layers of the pasteboard could be 
 seen. The walls were plastered with great wafers 
 to hold pupils' addresses. The number of wafers 
 without papers represented addresses that had 
 ceased to be. On the wall-paper were calculations 
 made in chalk. The commode was adorned with 
 beer jugs emptied the night before, which looked 
 new and shiny amid all the old lumber and waste 
 paper. Hygiene was represented by a jug of water 
 covered with a towel, and a piece of common white 
 soap, streaked with blue, which had spotted the 
 rosewood in several places. Two hats of equal age 
 were hanging on a hatrack, where the same old 
 box-coat with three capes, that the countess had 
 always seen Schmucke wear was also hanging. On 
 the window-sill were three pots of flowers, German 
 flowers of course, and near by a holly walking- 
 stick. 
 
 Although the countess's sight and smell were dis- 
 agreeably affected, Schmucke's smile and glance 
 concealed these wretched details from her with rays 
 of celestial light which made the yellow tints a 
 blaze of glory and vivified the chaos. The soul of 
 this divine creature, who knew and revealed so many 
 divine things, sparkled like a sun. His hearty, in- 
 genuous laugh at the sight of one of his Saint- 
 Cecilias, was instinct with youth and gaiety and 
 innocence. He poured forth man's dearest treasures
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 365 
 
 and made with them a cloak to hide his poverty. 
 The most disdainful parvenu might well have 
 deemed it a base thing to think of the frame in 
 which this glorious apostle of the religion of music 
 was set 
 
 "Ah! py vat chance to you gome here, tear Mon- 
 tame la Gondesse?" said he. "Must I zing de zong 
 of Zimeon ad my atche?" 
 
 This idea caused a renewed immoderate outburst 
 of laughter. 
 
 "Am I in gut lug?" he continued with a cunning 
 look. 
 
 Then he began to laugh again like a child. 
 
 "You gome vor de musik und nod vor ein boor 
 man. I know," he said in a melancholy tone ; "put 
 gome for vat you vill, you know dat here everyding 
 is for you, poty unt soul unt broberdy!" 
 
 He took the countess's hand, kissed it and depos- 
 ited a tear upon it, for in the honest creature's mind 
 every day was but the day after a benefaction. His 
 joy had deprived him of his memory for a moment, 
 only to restore it in all its force. He at once seized 
 the chalk, leaped upon the armchair that stood by 
 the piano, and wrote on the paper, as rapidly as a 
 young man, in large letters: FEBRUARY 17, 1835. 
 This pretty, ingenuous movement was executed in 
 such a frenzy of gratitude that the countess was 
 deeply moved. 
 
 "My sister is coming to see you," she said. 
 
 "De oder alzo! Yen? ven? may it pe pefore I 
 tie!"
 
 366 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "She will come to thank you for a very great 
 favor which I am going to ask you to do for her," 
 she continued. 
 
 "Gwick! gwick, gwick, gwick!" cried Schmucke. 
 "Vat moost I to ? Go to de teufel ?" 
 
 "Nothing but write: Accepted for the sum of ten 
 thousand francs on each of these papers," she said, 
 taking from her muff four notes of hand drawn in 
 proper form by Nathan. 
 
 "Ha! dat vill pe zoon made," replied the Ger- 
 man, as meek as a lamb. "Pud I know not vere 
 are mein bens unt mein ink. Get you avay vrom 
 dere, Meinherr Mirr," he cried to the cat, who stared 
 coldly at him. "Dat ist mein kat, " he said, pointing 
 him out to the countess. "Eed eez de boor animal 
 vat leefs mit boor Schmucke! He ees hantzoom?" 
 
 "Yes," said the countess. 
 
 "Vood you lige him?" said he. 
 
 "Do you think of such a thing?" she replied. 
 "Isn't he your friend?" 
 
 The cat, who was hiding the inkstand, seemed to 
 understand that Schmucke wanted it, and leaped 
 on to the bed. 
 
 "He ees meesjefus as ein mongey, " said Schmucke 
 pointing to him on the bed. "I call him Mirr, to 
 clorivy our crate Hoffman of Perlin, whom I ferry 
 veil knew." 
 
 The worthy man signed the notes with the un- 
 questioning obedience of a child who does what his 
 mother tells him to do, without understanding any- 
 thing about it, but sure that he is doing right He
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 367 
 
 was much more interested in the cat's introduction 
 to the countess than in documents by virtue of 
 which, according to the provisions of the law 
 relative to foreigners, he might be deprived of his 
 liberty forever. 
 
 "You azzure me dat deze liddle ztampt babers " 
 
 "Don't be in the least alarmed," said the count- 
 ess. 
 
 "I am not alarmt," he replied sharply. "I zay 
 vill dese liddle ztampt babers bleaze Montame ti 
 Dilet?" 
 
 "Oh! yes, " said she, "you are doing her as great 
 a service as if you were her father." 
 
 "Den I am ferry habby to pe to her ofe zome 
 zerfiss. Hear me blay!" he exclaimed, laying the 
 papers on the table and leaping to his piano. 
 
 The angel's hands were already galloping over 
 the old keys, his eyes were already gazing through 
 the roof to the skies, the most enchanting of songs 
 was already springing into life in the air and mak- 
 ing its way into the heart; but the countess did not 
 allow this childlike interpreter of things celestial to 
 make the keys and chords sing, as Raphael's Saint- 
 Cecilia does for the listening angels, after the ink 
 had had time to dry: she slipped the notes into her 
 muff and called her radiant master back from the 
 ethereal realms through which he was soaring, by 
 putting her hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "My dear Schmucke," said she. 
 
 "Alretty!" he cried, with pitiable resignation. 
 "Vy haf you gome ad all?"
 
 368 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 He did not complain; he stood up like a faithful 
 dog, to listen to the countess, 
 
 "My dear Schmucke," she continued, "it's a 
 matter of life and death; every minute is a saving 
 of blood and tears." 
 
 "Alvays de same," said he. "Go, anchel! try 
 de dears of oders ! Be zhur dat boor Schmucke ab- 
 brezhiates your fizid more dan your benzhun!" 
 
 "We shall meet again," said she; "you must 
 come and play for us and dine with us every Sunday, 
 under pain of making bad blood between us. I ex- 
 pect you next Sunday." 
 
 "Druly?" 
 
 "I beg you to come, and my sister will doubtless 
 appoint a day also." 
 
 "Den my habbiness vill pe gombleed," said he, 
 "for I only haf zeen you at de Champs-Hailyssees 
 ven you haf bast dat vay in ein garritch, ferry zel- 
 dom!" 
 
 This thought dried the tears that were collecting 
 in his eyes, and he offered his arm to his lovely 
 pupil, who felt the old man's heart beating wildly. 
 
 "So you think of us sometimes?" said she. 
 
 "Alvays ven eading my pret!" he replied. "In 
 de furst blaize az my penefacdresses, unt den as de 
 du furst madchens voordy to pe lofed I haf effer 
 known!" 
 
 The countess dared say no more. There was an 
 indescribable solemnity, respectful, faithful, reli- 
 gious, in that phrase. The smoky, dirt-encumbered 
 room was a temple inhabited by two divinities.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 369 
 
 Pure sentiment was growing hour by hour there, 
 unknown to those who inspired it. 
 
 "Here we are loved, dearly loved," she thought. 
 
 The emotion with which old Schmucke watched 
 the countess enter her carriage, was shared by her, 
 and with the ends of her fingers she sent him one of 
 the dainty kisses with which ladies bid one an- 
 other good morning at a distance. That sight kept 
 Schmucke planted upon the sidewalk long after the 
 carriage had disappeared. A few moments later the 
 countess drove into the courtyard of Madame de 
 Nucingen's mansion. The baroness was not up; 
 but, in order not to keep a lady of such high rank 
 waiting in her anteroom, she arrayed herself in a 
 peignoir and threw on a shawl. 
 
 "I come in the interest of a kind action, ma- 
 dame," said the countess, "so that promptness is a 
 great favor ; except for that I would not have dis- 
 turbed you so early." 
 
 "Why, I am only too happy," said the banker's 
 wife, taking the four notes and the countess's guar- 
 anty. 
 
 She rang for her maid. 
 
 "Therese, tell the cashier to bring me forty 
 thousand francs himself, instantly." 
 
 Then she placed Madame de Vandenesse's letter 
 in a secret drawer of her table, after sealing it 
 
 "You have a lovely room," said the countess. 
 
 "Monsieur de Nucingen is going to take it away 
 from me; he's building a new house." 
 
 "You'll give this one to your daughter, no 
 24
 
 370 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 doubt They say she is to marry Monsieur de 
 Rastignac." 
 
 The cashier appeared just as Madame de Nucingen 
 was about to reply; she took the bank-notes and 
 handed him the four notes of hand. 
 
 "That will make your accounts balance," she said 
 to the cashier. 
 
 "All put de tiscound," said the cashier. "Dis 
 Schmucke ees ein musicien von Anspach," he added 
 as he saw the signature, thereby causing the count- 
 ess to shudder. 
 
 "Am I in business, pray?" said Madame de Nu- 
 cingen, rebuking the cashier with a haughty glance. 
 "This is my affair." 
 
 The cashier gazed in vain from the countess to 
 the baroness; their features betrayed nothing. 
 
 "Go, leave us. Be good enough to remain a few 
 moments in order not to make them think that you 
 had any interest in this matter," said the baroness 
 to Madame de Vandenesse. 
 
 "I will ask you to add to your very great kind- 
 ness the further favor of keeping this transaction 
 secret," rejoined the countess. 
 
 "For a kind action, that goes without saying," 
 replied the baroness with a smile. "I am going to 
 send your carriage round to the rear of the garden 
 without you ; then we will walk across the garden 
 together and no one will see you leave the house; 
 it will make the whole affair perfectly inexplicable." 
 
 "You are as charitable as one who has suffered," 
 said the countess.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 371 
 
 "I don't know if I am charitable, but I have suf- 
 fered terribly," said the baroness. "Your suffering 
 has been to better purpose, I trust" 
 
 As soon as the order was given the countess put 
 on her fur-lined slippers and a pelisse, and escorted 
 the countess to the gate at the rear of her garden.
 
 When a man has concocted a scheme like that Du 
 Tillet had concocted against Nathan, he confides it 
 to no one. Nucingen knew something of it, but his 
 wife was an entire stranger to these Machiavelian 
 manoeuvres. But the baroness knew that Raoul 
 was financially embarrassed, and she was not fooled 
 by the sisters ; she had a shrewd idea whose hands 
 the money would go to and she was delighted to 
 oblige the countess; indeed she had profound com- 
 passion for embarrassment of that description. 
 Rastignac, who was in a position to fathom the 
 schemes of the two bankers, came to breakfast with 
 her. Delphine and Rastignac had no secrets from 
 each other, and she described her interview with 
 the countess. Rastignac, incapable of imagining 
 that the baroness could ever be involved in this 
 affair, which was in his eyes subsidiary to the main 
 scheme, one means among many, enlightened her 
 concerning it Delphine had perhaps ruined Du 
 Tillet's chances of election and rendered of no avail 
 the trickery and sacrifices of a whole year. Rasti- 
 gnac, thereupon, posted the baroness fully, and 
 urged her to keep silent as to the mistake she had 
 made. 
 
 "If only the cashier doesn't mention it to Nucin- 
 gen," said she. 
 
 (373)
 
 374 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 A few moments before noon, while Du Tillet was 
 at lunch, Gigonnet was announced. 
 
 "Show him in," said the banker, although his 
 wife was at the table. 
 
 "Well, my old Shylock, is our man boxed up?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "How's that? Didn't I tell you he was in Rue du 
 Mail, Hotel" 
 
 "He's paid," said Gigonnet, taking forty bank- 
 notes from his pocket. 
 
 Du Tillet's face assumed a desperate expres- 
 sion. 
 
 "We must never turn a cold shoulder on good 
 crowns," said Du Tillet's unemotional associate; 
 "that may bring bad luck." 
 
 "Where did you get that money, madame?" said 
 the banker, glaring at his wife in a way that made 
 her blush to the roots of her hair. 
 
 "I don't know what you mean by such a ques- 
 tion, "said she. 
 
 "I'll go to the bottom of this mystery," he re- 
 torted, leaving the table in a rage. "You have 
 upset my most cherished plans." 
 
 "You'll upset your own lunch," said Gigonnet, 
 seizing the tablecloth, which was entangled with 
 the skirt of Du Tillet's dressing-gown. 
 
 Madame du Tillet coolly rose to leave the room, 
 for his words terrified her. She rang, and a footman 
 appeared. 
 
 "My horses," said she. "Send for Virginie; I 
 wish to dress."
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 375 
 
 "Where are you going?" snarled Du Tillet 
 
 "Well-bred husbands don't question their wives," 
 she retorted, "and you pretend to act like a gentle- 
 man." 
 
 "I shouldn't know you these last two days, since 
 you've seen your impertinent sister twice." 
 
 "You ordered me to be impertinent," said she; 
 "I am making a trial on you." 
 
 "Your servant, madame," said Gigonnet, but 
 little interested in a family quarrel. 
 
 Du Tillet gazed fixedly at his wife, who returned 
 his gaze without lowering her eyes. 
 
 "What does this mean?" said he. 
 
 "That I am no longer a little girl whom you can 
 frighten," she replied. "I am and shall be all my 
 life a good and loyal wife to you; you can be a 
 master, if you choose, but a tyrant, no!" 
 
 Du Tillet went out 
 
 Marie-Eugenie returned to her apartments worn 
 out, after this effort 
 
 "If it hadn't been for my sister's danger," she 
 said to herself, "I should never have dared to defy 
 him thus; but, as the proverb says, it's an ill wind 
 that blows nobody good." 
 
 During the night, Madame du Tillet had gone over 
 in her mind her sister's confidential conversation 
 with her. Sure of Raoul's safety, her mind was no 
 longer dominated by the thought of that imminent 
 danger. She remembered the terrible earnestness 
 with which the countess had spoken of flying with 
 Nathan to console him for his disaster, if she could
 
 376 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 not prevent it She realized that the man might in- 
 duce her sister, by the very excess of his gratitude 
 and love, to do what the sage Eugenie looked 
 upon as downright madness. There were recent 
 instances in high life of such flights, which pur- 
 chased a little uncertain pleasure at the cost of re- 
 morse and the loss of consideration suffered by those 
 who occupy a false position ; Eugenie remembered 
 their frightful results. Du Tillet's words increased 
 her alarm beyond measure; she feared that the 
 whole thing would be discovered; she saw the 
 Comtesse de Vandenesse's signature in the portfolio 
 of the Nucingen establishment; she determined 
 to implore her sister to confess everything to 
 Felix. 
 
 Madame du Tillet did not find the countess. 
 Felix was at home. A voice in her heart cried out 
 to Eugenie to save her sister. To-morrow, perhaps, 
 it would be too late. She took a great deal upon 
 herself, but she resolved to tell the count the whole 
 story. Would he not be indulgent when he found 
 that his honor was still untarnished ? The countess 
 was misled rather than perverted. Eugenie feared 
 that she was a coward and traitress to divulge 
 secrets which all classes of society agree in respect- 
 ing; but she looked forward to her sister's future, 
 she trembled at the thought of finding her some day 
 alone, ruined by Nathan, poor, ill, unhappy, in 
 despair ; she hesitated no longer, but sent to request 
 the count to receive her. Felix, surprised at her 
 visit, had a long conversation with his sister-in-law,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 377 
 
 during which he seemed so calm and so self-con- 
 trolled that she trembled lest he should decide upon 
 some terrible resolution. 
 
 "Have no fear," Vandenesse said to her, "I will 
 conduct myself in such a way that the countess will 
 bless you some day. However disinclined you may 
 be to conceal from her the fact that you have told 
 me, give me credit for a few days. A few days 
 are necessary to enable me to go to the bottom 
 of certain mysterious circumstances which you 
 do not perceive, and more than all else to enable 
 me to act with prudence. Perhaps I shall clear 
 up everything in a moment! I alone am guilty, 
 my sister. All lovers play their little game; but 
 all women are not fortunate enough to see life as 
 it is." 
 
 Madame du Tillet took her leave, much comforted. 
 Felix de Vandenesse went at once to the Banque 
 de France and drew forty thousand francs ; he hur- 
 ried to Madame de Nucingen's, found her at home, 
 thanked her for the confidence she had placed in his 
 wife, and paid back the money. He explained this 
 mysterious loan as due to the extravagant demands 
 of a benevolence to which he had determined to put 
 bounds. 
 
 "You need give me no explanation, monsieur, as 
 Madame de Vandenesse has confessed everything to 
 you," said the Baronne de Nucingen. 
 
 "She knows all," thought Vandenesse. 
 
 The baroness handed him the letter of guaranty 
 and sent for the four notes. Vandenesse, during this
 
 378 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 brief interval, bestowed upon the baroness the 
 penetrating glance of a statesman; he almost dis- 
 turbed her equanimity, and he deemed the moment 
 propitious for negotiation. 
 
 "We live in a time when nothing is sure, ma- 
 dame," he said. "Thrones rise and disappear in 
 France with frightful rapidity. Fifteen years make 
 an end of a great empire, a monarchy, and a revo- 
 lution as well. No one would dare take it upon 
 himself to answer for the future. You know my 
 attachment to the legitimate line. There is nothing 
 extraordinary about these words coming from my 
 mouth. Suppose anything should happen : wouldn't 
 you be glad to have a friend in the triumphant 
 party?" 
 
 "Most assuredly," she replied with a smile. 
 
 "Very well, do you care to have in me a debtor 
 who could retain for Monsieur de Nucingen, if need 
 were, the peerage to which he aspires?" 
 
 "What do you want me to do?" she cried. 
 
 "Very little," was the reply. "Tell me all you 
 know about Nathan." 
 
 The baroness repeated the conversation she had 
 had that morning with Rastignac, and said to the 
 ex-peer of France as she handed him the four notes 
 of hand brought to her by the cashier : 
 
 "Don't forget your promise." 
 
 Vandenesse was so far from for getting that magical 
 promise that he dangled it before the Baron de Ras- 
 tignac's eyes as a means of obtaining some addi- 
 tional information from him.
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 379 
 
 When he left the baron, he dictated to a public 
 scrivener the following letter to Florine : 
 
 "If Mademoiselle Florine wishes to know the first part she 
 is to play, she is requested to attend the next ball at the 
 Opera, and to procure the escort of Monsieur Nathan." 
 
 Having put the letter in the post he went to his 
 man of business, a very clever, keen-witted fellow, 
 albeit perfectly honest ; he asked him to play the 
 part of a friend of Schmucke, to whom the German, 
 feeling apprehensive somewhat tardily as to the 
 meaning of the words : Accepted for ten thousand 
 francs, repeated four times, had confided the secret 
 of Madame de Vandenesse's visit; in that capacity 
 he was to go and ask Monsieur Nathan for a note for 
 forty thousand francs as security. It was a bold 
 game to play. Nathan might be already informed 
 as to how matters had been arranged, but it was 
 necessary to venture a little to gain much. In her 
 excitement, Marie might very well have forgotten to 
 ask her Raoul for any document to protect Schmucke. 
 The man of business went at once to the newspaper 
 office and returned triumphantly to the count's house 
 at five o'clock with a note for forty thousand francs ; 
 at the first words he exchanged with Nathan he 
 found he could safely say that the countess sent him. 
 
 The success of this manoeuvre made it necessary 
 for Felix to prevent his wife from seeing Raoul until 
 the Opera ball, to which he intended to take her 
 and there let her discover for herself Nathan's rela- 
 tions with Florine. He knew the countess's jealous
 
 380 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 pride : he preferred to make her abandon her passion 
 of her own volition, to give her no reason to blush 
 beneath his eyes, and to show her in due time her 
 own letters to Nathan sold by Florine, from whom 
 he expected to be able to purchase them. This 
 judicious plan, conceived so rapidly, already partly 
 executed, was destined to fail through a trick of 
 chance which modifies everything in this world. 
 After dinner Felix led the conversation to the Opera 
 ball, remarking that Marie had never been to one of 
 them ; and he proposed that amusement to her for 
 the next evening. 
 
 "I'll give you some one to poke fun at," said he. 
 
 "Ah! you will add greatly to my pleasure." 
 
 "To make the joke as enjoyable as possible, a 
 woman ought to attack an illustrious victim, a celeb- 
 rity, a man of intellect, and make him wish the 
 devil had him. Would you like me to hand Nathan 
 over to you ? I shall have, from some one who knows 
 Florine, secrets enough of his to drive him mad." 
 
 "Florine," said the countess, "the actress?" 
 
 Marie had already heard the name in the mouth 
 of Quillet, the office-boy: it passed through her 
 mind like a flash. 
 
 "Why, yes, his mistress," replied the count. 
 "Is that very surprising?" 
 
 "I thought Monsieur Nathan was too busy to have 
 a mistress. Do authors have time to love?" 
 
 "I don't say that they love, my dear; but they 
 are compelled to lodge somewhere, like all other 
 men ; and when they have no home of their own,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 381 
 
 when the bailiffs are after them, they lodge with 
 their mistresses; that may seem rather free to you, 
 but it's infinitely better than to lodge in prison." 
 
 The fire was less red than the countess's cheeks. 
 
 "Will you have him for a victim? you would 
 frighten him," the count continued, paying no heed 
 to his wife's face. "I will put you in a way to 
 prove to him that your brother-in-law Du Tillet is 
 playing with him like a child. The wretch is try- 
 ing to get him into prison, so as to make it impossi- 
 ble for him to come forward as his rival in the 
 electoral district from which Nucingen was elected. 
 I know from a friend of Florine's, the amount real- 
 ized from the sale of her furniture, which she gave 
 him to found his journal ; I know what she sent him 
 out of the harvest she reaped last year in the prov- 
 inces and in Belgium money which eventually 
 benefits Du Tillet and Nucingen and Massol. The 
 three together have sold the paper to the ministry in 
 advance, they are so sure of ejecting this great 
 man." 
 
 "Monsieur Nathan is incapable of accepting money 
 from an actress." 
 
 "You don't know much about such people, my 
 dear," said the count; "he won't deny the fact to 
 you himself." 
 
 "I will certainly goto the ball," said the countess. 
 
 "You will be much amused," Vandenesse re- 
 joined. "With such weapons, you will be able to 
 give Nathan's self-esteem a good shaking-up, and 
 you'll do him a service, too. You'll see him
 
 382 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 fly into a rage, try to restrain himself and 
 squirm under your stinging epigrams! In a 
 joking way you can enlighten an intelligent fellow 
 as to the danger that threatens him, and you will 
 have the pleasure of beating the horses of the juste 
 milieu in their own stable. You aren't listening to 
 me, my dear child." 
 
 "On the contrary, I am listening too intently," 
 she replied. "I will tell you later why I am anxious 
 to be sure of all this." 
 
 "Sure?" Vandenesse repeated. "Keep on your 
 mask, and I will arrange it so that you will 
 take supper with Nathan and Florine: it will 
 be very amusing for a woman in your position to 
 mystify an actress, after you have had a bout with 
 a famous author and have kept his wits prancing 
 about such momentous secrets; you can harness 
 them both to the same mystification. I must try 
 and get on the track of Nathan's infidelities. If I 
 can learn the details of a recent adventure of his, 
 you will enjoy the spectacle of a courtesan's wrath, 
 a magnificent thing Florine's will boil and seethe 
 like an Alpine torrent: she adores Nathan, he is 
 everything to her; she clings to him like the flesh 
 to the bones, like a lioness to her cubs. I remem- 
 ber in my younger days seeing a famous actress 
 who wrote like a cook come to one of my friends and 
 demand her letters ; I have never seen such a sight 
 since the tranquil fury, the majestic impertinence, 
 the attitude of a savage Are you ill, Marie?" 
 
 "No; they have made too much fire."
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 383 
 
 The countess threw herself upon a couch. Sud- 
 denly, with an impulsive movement impossible to 
 foresee, suggested doubtless by the corroding pains 
 of jealousy, she stood erect upon her trembling legs, 
 folded her arms and walked slowly to her husband. 
 
 "What do you know?" she asked. "You are not 
 the man to torture me, you would crush me without 
 making me suffer if I were guilty." 
 
 "What do you want me to know, Marie?" 
 
 "Well, as to Nathan?" 
 
 "You think you love him, but you love a phantom 
 constructed with words." 
 
 "Then you know ?" 
 
 "Everything," said he. 
 
 That word fell upon Marie's head like a club. 
 
 "If you prefer, I will never know anything," he 
 continued. "You are in a mess, my child, and we 
 must get you out of it ; I have been at work already. 
 Look." 
 
 He took from his pocket the letter of guaranty 
 and Schmucke's four notes of hand, which the 
 countess recognized, and threw them into the fire. 
 
 "What would have become of you, poor Marie, 
 three months from now? You would have found 
 yourself being dragged by bailiffs before the courts. 
 Don't hang your head, don't humble yourself; you 
 have been led astray by the noblest sentiments, you 
 have flirted with poetic ideas and not with a man. All 
 women, all, do you hear, Marie? would have been 
 fascinated as you were. Wouldn't it be rather 
 absurd of us men, who have committed innumerable
 
 384 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 follies in twenty years, to insist that you should not 
 be imprudent a single time in your whole lives? 
 God forbid that I should triumph over you, or over- 
 whelm you with pity, which you repelled so earn- 
 estly the other day. Perhaps the poor wretch was 
 sincere when he wrote you, sincere in his suicide, 
 sincere in going back to Florine the same evening. 
 We are not to be compared with you. I am not 
 speaking for myself at this moment, but for you. I 
 am indulgent, but society is not; it avoids the 
 woman who makes a scandal, it does not choose that 
 the same person shall enjoy perfect happiness and 
 social consideration. I can't say that it's just. 
 The world is cruel, that's all. Perhaps it is more 
 envious as a body than when taken in detail. A 
 thief sitting in the pit applauds the triumph of inno- 
 cence and will steal its jewels when he leaves the 
 theatre. Society refuses to put down the evils it 
 engenders; it awards honors to skilful trickery, and 
 has no reward to bestow upon unassuming devotion. 
 I know and see all this; but, if I cannot reform the 
 world, at all events it is in my power to protect you 
 against yourself. We have to do with a man who 
 brings you nothing but misery, and not one of those 
 holy, consecrated passions which sometimes com- 
 mand us to sacrifice ourselves, and which carry their 
 own excuses with them. It may be that I have done 
 wrong not to give more variety to your life, not to 
 show you the difference between tranquil happi- 
 ness and the more exciting forms of enjoyment, 
 traveling, diversions of all sorts. But I can account
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 385 
 
 for the feeling that drew you toward a famous man 
 by the jealousy you have caused certain women. 
 Lady Dudley, Madame d'Espard, Madame de Maner- 
 ville and my sister-in-law F^milie have had a hand 
 in it all. Those women, against whom I tried to 
 put you on your guard, have cultivated your curios- 
 ity more to annoy me than to expose you to storms 
 which have howled all about you without harming 
 you, I trust" 
 
 As she listened to these words, instinct with kind- 
 ness, the countess was stirred by a thousand con- 
 flicting emotions; but the dominant force in the 
 hurricane was ardent admiration for Felix. Proud 
 and noble hearts are not slow to recognize the deli- 
 cacy with which they are treated. Tact of this sort 
 is to the emotions what grace is to the body. Marie 
 appreciated the grandeur of soul that hastened to 
 humble itself at an erring woman's feet in order not 
 to see her blushes. She fled like a madwoman, but 
 returned at once, impelled by the thought of the pain 
 her action might cause her husband. 
 "Wait," she said to him, and disappeared, 
 Felix had adroitly prepared an excuse for her and 
 he was soon rewarded for his good judgment; for his 
 wife returned with all Nathan's letters in her hand, 
 and gave them to him. 
 
 "Judge me," said she, kneeling at his feet 
 "Is a man qualified to judge when he's in love?" 
 was his reply. 
 
 He took the letters and threw them into the fire, 
 for he knew that in the future his wife would never 
 25
 
 386 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 be able to forgive him for having read them. Marie 
 laid her head upon the count's knees and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 "Where are yours, my child?" he said, raising 
 her head. 
 
 At that question the countess ceased to feel the 
 intolerable heat in her cheeks ; she turned cold. 
 
 "In order that you may not suspect your husband 
 of slandering the man you thought worthy of you, 
 I will see that they are returned to you by Florine 
 herself." 
 
 "Oh! why should he not return them at my re- 
 quest?" 
 
 "But suppose he should refuse?" 
 
 The countess hung her head. 
 
 "I am sick of the world," she said, "I don't care 
 to go into society any more; I will live alone with 
 you if you forgive me." 
 
 "You might be bored again. Besides, what would 
 the world say if you were to turn your back on it 
 abruptly? In the spring we will travel ; we will go 
 to Italy and all over Europe, waiting until you have 
 more than one child to bring up. We must still go 
 to the Opera ball to-morrow, for we can't get your 
 letters in any other way without compromising our- 
 selves; and by the very act of bringing them to you 
 will not Florine demonstrate her power?" 
 
 "And I shall see that thing?" said the horrified 
 countess. 
 
 "Day after to-morrow in the morning."
 
 The next night, toward midnight, at the Opera 
 ball, Nathan was promenading in the foyer with a 
 mask leaning on his arm, and with a decidedly mari- 
 tal air. After two or three turns, two masked 
 women accosted them. 
 
 "Poor fool! you are ruining yourself; Marie is 
 here and looking at you," said Vandenesse, who 
 was disguised as a woman, in Nathan's ear. 
 
 "If you take my advice you'll find out what 
 Nathan is keeping secret from you, and that will 
 show you what great danger threatens your love for 
 him," said the countess in a trembling voice to 
 Florine. 
 
 Nathan had abruptly dropped Florine's arm to fol- 
 low the count, who passed out of sight in the crowd. 
 Florine took a seat beside the countess, who led her 
 to a bench where Vandenesse, having returned to 
 protect his wife, was already sitting. 
 
 "Explain yourself, my dear," said Florine, "don't 
 think to keep me waiting here long. No one on 
 earth will ever take Raoul from me, you see, for I 
 hold him by habit, which is every whit as strong as 
 love." 
 
 "In the first place, are you Florine?" said Felix, 
 resuming his natural voice. 
 
 "That's a bright question! if you don't know 
 that, how do you expect me to believe you, donkey ?" 
 (387)
 
 388 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "Go and ask Nathan, who is now looking for the 
 mistress I am talking about, where he passed the 
 night three days ago ! He tried to suffocate himself, 
 my dear, without your knowledge, for want of 
 money. That's how much you know about the 
 affairs of a man you say you love, and you leave 
 him without a sou, and he kills himself; or rather he 
 doesn't kill himself, he misses it An unsuccessful 
 suicide is as ridiculous as a duel without a scratch." 
 
 "You lie," said Florine. "He dined with me 
 that day, but after sunset. The bailiffs were after 
 the poor boy. He was in hiding; that's all." 
 
 "Well, then, go to the Hotel du Mail on Rue du 
 Mail and ask if he wasn't brought there in a dying 
 condition by a beautiful woman with whom he has 
 been more or less intimate for a year; and your 
 rival's letters are hidden right under your nose in 
 your own house. If you would like to give Nathan 
 a good lesson, we'll all three go to your house; there 
 I will prove to you with the documents in my hand, 
 that you can very soon prevent him from going to 
 Rue de Clichy, if you'll be a good girl." 
 
 "Try to get somebody besides Florine to go with 
 you, my boy. I'm sure that Nathan can't be in 
 love with anybody." 
 
 "You would make me believe that he has been 
 more attentive than ever to you for some time past, 
 but that's the very fact that proves that he's very 
 much in love " 
 
 "With a woman in society, he? "said Florine. 
 "A little thing like that doesn't disturb me."
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 389 
 
 "Well, would you like to have him come and tell 
 you that he won't take you home this morning?" 
 
 "If you get him to tell me that, I'll take you home 
 with me and we'll look for those letters, which I 
 won't believe in till I see them." 
 
 "Stay here," said Felix, "and watch." 
 
 He took his wife's arm and stationed himself a 
 few steps away from Florine. Soon Nathan, who 
 was rushing up and down the foyer, looking every- 
 where for his mask like a dog in search of his mas- 
 ter, returned to the spot where he had received the 
 hint Reading his very evident preoccupation in his 
 face, Florine took her stand like a wall in front of 
 the journalist, and said to him in an imperious 
 tone: 
 
 "I don't want you to leave me; I have my 
 reasons." 
 
 "Marie! " the countess, at her husband's sug- 
 gestion, thereupon exclaimed in Raoul's ear. "Who 
 is this woman ? Leave her instantly, go out and 
 wait for me at the foot of the staircase." 
 
 In this horrible extremity, Raoul shook Florine's 
 arm violently; she was not expecting that ma- 
 noeuvre, and although she tried hard to hold him, she 
 was obliged to let him go. Nathan at once plunged 
 into the crowd and disappeared. 
 
 "What did I tell you ?" cried Felix in the stupefied 
 Florine's ear, as he offered her his arm. 
 
 "Whoever you are, come," said she. "Have you 
 a carriage?" 
 
 For all reply, Vandenesse hurried Florine from
 
 390 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 the room, and they joined his wife at a spot pre- 
 viously agreed upon under the peristyle. In a few 
 moments the three masks, driven at full speed by 
 Vandenesse's coachman, reached the actress's house, 
 where she removed her mask. Madame de Vande- 
 nesse could not repress a start of surprise at the 
 sight of Florine choking with rage, superb in her 
 wrath and jealousy. 
 
 "There is a certain portfolio," said Vandenesse, 
 "the key of which has never been entrusted to you; 
 the letters should be in that" 
 
 "To tell the truth, I am puzzled; you know some- 
 thing that's been troubling me for several days," 
 said Florine, hurrying into the dressing-room to get 
 the portfolio. 
 
 Vandenesse saw his wife turn pale under her 
 mask. Florine's bedroom had more to say as to the 
 intimacy between the actress and Nathan than an 
 ideal mistress would have cared to know. The 
 female eye can see to the bottom of things of that 
 sort in a moment, and the countess saw, in the pro- 
 miscuous condition of things, a proof of what Van- 
 denesse had told her. 
 
 Florine returned with the portfolio. 
 
 "How am 1 to open it?" said she. 
 
 She sent for her cook's carving-knife, and when 
 the maid brought it to her, waved it above her head, 
 saying in a mocking tone: 
 
 "This is what they kill chickens with!" 
 
 That remark, which made the countess shudder, 
 explained to her even more clearly than her husband
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 391 
 
 had done the day before, the depth of the abyss into 
 which she had almost fallen. 
 
 "What an idiot I am!" said Florine; "his razor'll 
 do better." 
 
 She went to fetch the razor Nathan used for shav- 
 ing, and cut a slit in the morocco large enough to 
 allow Marie's letters to pass through. Florine took 
 up one of them at random. 
 
 "Yes, this is certainly from a woman comme il 
 faut. It looks to me as if there isn't a word spelled 
 wrong." 
 
 Vandenesse took the letters and handed them to 
 his wife, who went to a table to look them over and 
 see if they were all there. 
 
 "Do you care to let me have them in exchange 
 for this?" said Vandenesse, handing Florine the 
 note for forty thousand francs. 
 
 "What a donkey he is to sign such things! Take 
 your letters," said Florine as she read the note. 
 "Ah! I'll give you countesses! And to think that I 
 was killing myself body and soul in the provinces 
 to scrape money together for him, and that I let a 
 broker put the screws on me to save him ! That's a 
 man: when you damn yourself for him, he'll walk 
 over you! He shall pay me for this." 
 
 Madame de Vandenesse had made her escape with 
 the letters. 
 
 "He! look here, my handsome mask! leave me 
 just one of them to convince him." 
 
 "That isn't possible," said Vandenesse. 
 
 "Why not?"
 
 392 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 "That mask is your ex-rival." 
 
 "Well, she might at least have thanked me!" 
 cried Florine. 
 
 "Why, what do you take the forty thousand francs 
 for?" said Vandenesse, saluting her. 
 
 It very rarely happens that young people, driven 
 to attempt suicide, try it again after they have once 
 undergone the agony of it. When the suicide fails 
 to cure himself of the disease called life, he becomes 
 cured of voluntary death. So it was that Raoul no 
 longer had any desire to kill himself, even when he 
 found that he was in a much more horrible position 
 than that from which he had just been relieved, 
 being confronted with the Schmucke note in Flo- 
 rine's possession, who had evidently received it 
 from the Comte de Vandenesse. He tried to see the 
 countess again to explain to her the nature of his love, 
 which burned in his heart more ardently than ever. 
 But the first time she met Raoul in society she gazed 
 at him with the contemptuous stare that places an 
 impassable chasm between a man and a woman. 
 Despite his assurance, Nathan did not venture, dur- 
 ing the rest of the winter, to speak to the countess, 
 or even to go near her. 
 
 He opened his heart to Blondet, however : he in- 
 sisted upon talking to him about Laura and Beatrice, 
 apropos of Madame de Vandenesse. He paraphrased 
 the beautiful passage for which we are indebted to 
 the pen of one of the most noteworthy poets of our 
 day: "O my ideal, blue flower, with the heart of 
 gold, whose fibrous roots, a thousand times more
 
 FLORINE, M. AND MME. DE VANDENESSE 
 
 "Do you care to let me have them in exchange 
 for this ? " said Vandenesse, handing Florine the 
 note for forty thousand francs. 
 
 " What a donkey he is to sign such things ! Take 
 your letters" said Florine as she read the note. 
 "Ah ! I'll give you countesses ! And to think that I 
 was killing myself body and soul in the provinces 
 to scrape money together for him, and that I let a 
 broker put the screws on me to save him ! That's a 
 man : when you damn yourself for him, he'll walk 
 over you ! He sJiall pay me for this"
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 393 
 
 fine than fairies' silken tresses, plunge to the deep 
 recesses of the heart to drink its purest essence; 
 sweet and bitter flower ! we can not pluck thee that 
 thou dost not cause the heart to bleed, and from the 
 broken stem red drops ooze forth! Ah! cursed 
 flower, how it has twined its roots about my heart!" 
 
 "You're raving, my dear fellow," said Blondet; 
 "I agree that it was a pretty flower, but it wasn't 
 ideal, and, instead of singing like a blind man in 
 front of an empty niche, you'd better think about 
 washing your hands so as to make your submission 
 to the government and fall into line. You're too 
 great an artist to be a politician, and you've been 
 made a fool of by men who aren't your equals. 
 Think about being made a fool of again, but in 
 another place." 
 
 "Marie can't prevent me from loving her," said 
 Nathan. "I'll make her my Beatrice." 
 
 "My dear man, Beatrice was a small girl of twelve 
 whom Dante never saw again; except for that, 
 would she have been Beatrice ? To make a divinity 
 of a woman we don't want to see her in a cloak to- 
 day, to-morrow in a low-necked dress, and the day 
 after on the boulevard, haggling over the price of 
 toys for her youngest When one has Florine, who 
 is, at one time or another, a vaudeville duchess, a 
 good bourgeoise of melodrama, negress, marchioness, 
 colonel, Swiss peasant, and Virgin of the Sun in 
 Peru her only way of being a virgin, by the way 
 I can't see how one can take chances with a society 
 woman."
 
 394 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 
 
 Du Tillet, in the jargon of the Bourse, closed out 
 Nathan's contracts, and the journalist parted with 
 his share in the newspaper, for lack of money. The 
 illustrious man had but five votes in the college which 
 elected the banker. 
 
 When the Comtesse de Vandenesse returned to 
 Paris the following winter, after a long and happy 
 trip through Italy, Nathan had justified all of Felix's 
 anticipations: following Blondet's advice he was 
 negotiating with the government His personal 
 affairs were in such confusion that the Comtesse 
 Marie saw her former adorer on the Champs Elysees 
 one day, on foot, in most lamentable array, with 
 Florine on his arm. A man to whom a woman is in- 
 different is passably ugly in her eyes ; but when 
 she has ceased to love him, he is horrible to her, 
 especially when he resembles Nathan. Madame de 
 Vandenesse's cheeks flushed with shame at the 
 thought that she had ever been interested in Raoul. 
 If she had not been cured of all extraconjugal pas- 
 sion, the contrast between the count and that other 
 man who had already forfeited his claim to public 
 favor would have sufficed to make her prefer her 
 husband to an angel. 
 
 To-day the ambitious youth, so rich in ink and so 
 poor in will-power, has at last capitulated and taken 
 refuge in a sinecure, like any man of moderate parts. 
 After giving his support to all sorts of attempts at 
 disorganization, he lives in peace in the shadow of 
 a ministerial journal. The Cross of the Legion of 
 Honor, once a fruitful subject of pleasantry to him,
 
 A DAUGHTER OF EVE 395 
 
 now adorns his buttonhole. The peace at any price 
 policy, upon which he had kept alive a revolution- 
 ary newspaper, is to-day the object of laudatory 
 articles from his pen. Hereditary right, once so 
 fiercely attacked by his Saint-Simonian periods, he 
 defends to-day with the authority of commonsense. 
 This illogical conduct has its origin and its cause in 
 the change of front on the part of certain men, who, 
 during our latest political evolutions, acted in the 
 same way. 
 
 Jardies, December, 1838.
 
 LIST OF ETCHINGS 
 
 VOLUME XVI 
 
 PACE 
 
 SAVARUS AT THE WEDDING Fronts. 
 
 THE ABBE DE ORANGEY AND SAVARUS 160 
 
 MADEMOISELLE FLORINE 19* 
 
 MME. DU TILLET AND MME. DE VANDENESSE ... 217 
 
 FLORINE, M. AND MME. DE VANDENESSE 392 
 
 16 N. & R., A. Sav. J97
 
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