Education sentimentale. English

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  AN AUCTION.

  Twelve thousand francs should be procured, or, if not, he would seeMadame Arnoux no more; and until now there had lingered in his breast anunconquerable hope. Did she not, as it were, constitute the verysubstance of his heart, the very basis of his life? For some minutes hewent staggering along the footpath, his mind tortured with anxiety, andnevertheless gladdened by the thought that he was no longer by theother's side.

  Where was he to get the money? Frederick was well aware from his ownexperience how hard it was to obtain it immediately, no matter at whatcost. There was only one person who could help him in the matter--MadameDambreuse. She always kept a good supply of bank-notes in herescritoire. He called at her house; and in an unblushing fashion:

  "Have you twelve thousand francs to lend me?"

  "What for?"

  That was another person's secret. She wanted to know who this personwas. He would not give way on this point. They were equally determinednot to yield. Finally, she declared that she would give nothing untilshe knew for what purpose it was wanted.

  Frederick's face became very flushed; and he stated that one of hiscomrades had committed a theft. It was necessary to replace the sum thisvery day.

  "Let me know his name? His name? Come! what's his name?"

  "Dussardier!"

  And he threw himself on his knees, imploring of her to say nothing aboutit.

  "What idea have you got into your head about me?" Madame Dambreusereplied. "One would imagine that you were the guilty party yourself.Pray, have done with your tragic airs! Hold on! here's the money! andmuch good may it do him!"

  He hurried off to see Arnoux. That worthy merchant was not in his shop.But he was still residing in the Rue de Paradis, for he had twodomiciles.

  In the Rue de Paradis, the porter said that M. Arnoux had been awaysince the evening before. As for Madame, he ventured to say nothing; andFrederick, having rushed like an arrow up the stairs, laid his earagainst the keyhole. At length, the door was opened. Madame had gone outwith Monsieur. The servant could not say when they would be back; herwages had been paid, and she was leaving herself.

  Suddenly he heard the door creaking.

  "But is there anyone in the room?"

  "Oh, no, Monsieur! it is the wind."

  Thereupon he withdrew. There was something inexplicable in such a rapiddisappearance.

  Regimbart, being Mignot's intimate friend, could perhaps enlighten him?And Frederick got himself driven to that gentleman's house atMontmartre in the Rue l'Empereur.

  Attached to the house there was a small garden shut in by a gratingwhich was stopped up with iron plates. Three steps before the hall-doorset off the white front; and a person passing along the footpath couldsee the two rooms on the ground-floor, the first of which was a parlourwith ladies' dresses lying on the furniture on every side, and thesecond the workshop in which Madame Regimbart's female assistants wereaccustomed to sit.

  They were all convinced that Monsieur had important occupations,distinguished connections, that he was a man altogether beyondcomparison. When he was passing through the lobby with his hat cocked upat the sides, his long grave face, and his green frock-coat, the girlsstopped in the midst of their work. Besides, he never failed to addressto them a few words of encouragement, some observation which showed hisceremonious courtesy; and, afterwards, in their own homes they feltunhappy at not having been able to preserve him as their ideal.

  No one, however, was so devoted to him as Madame Regimbart, anintelligent little woman, who maintained him by her handicraft.

  As soon as M. Moreau had given his name, she came out quickly to meethim, knowing through the servants what his relations were with MadameDambreuse. Her husband would be back in a moment; and Frederick, whilehe followed her, admired the appearance of the house and the profusionof oil-cloth that was displayed in it. Then he waited a few minutes in akind of office, into which the Citizen was in the habit of retiring, inorder to be alone with his thoughts.

  When they met, Regimbart's manner was less cranky than usual.

  He related Arnoux's recent history. The ex-manufacturer of earthenwarehad excited the vanity of Mignot, a patriot who owned a hundred sharesin the _Siecle_, by professing to show that it would be necessary fromthe democratic standpoint to change the management and the editorship ofthe newspaper; and under the pretext of making his views prevail in thenext meeting of shareholders, he had given the other fifty shares,telling him that he could pass them on to reliable friends who wouldback up his vote. Mignot would have no personal responsibility, and neednot annoy himself about anyone; then, when he had achieved success, hewould be able to secure a good place in the administration of at leastfrom five to six thousand francs. The shares had been delivered. ButArnoux had at once sold them, and with the money had entered intopartnership with a dealer in religious articles. Thereupon camecomplaints from Mignot, to which Arnoux sent evasive answers. At lastthe patriot had threatened to bring against him a charge of cheating ifhe did not restore his share-certificates or pay an equivalentsum--fifty thousand francs.

  Frederick's face wore a look of despondency.

  "That is not the whole of it," said the Citizen. "Mignot, who is anhonest fellow, has reduced his claim to one fourth. New promises on thepart of the other, and, of course, new dodges. In short, on the morningof the day before yesterday Mignot sent him a written application to payup, within twenty-four hours, twelve thousand francs, without prejudiceto the balance."

  "But I have the amount!" said Frederick.

  The Citizen slowly turned round:

  "Humbug!"

  "Excuse me! I have the money in my pocket. I brought it with me."

  "How you do go at it! By Jove, you do! However, 'tis too late now--thecomplaint has been lodged, and Arnoux is gone."

  "Alone?"

  "No! along with his wife. They were seen at the Havre terminus."

  Frederick grew exceedingly pale. Madame Regimbart thought he was goingto faint. He regained his self-possession with an effort, and had evensufficient presence of mind to ask two or three questions about theoccurrence. Regimbart was grieved at the affair, considering that itwould injure the cause of Democracy. Arnoux had always been lax in hisconduct and disorderly in his life.

  "A regular hare-brained fellow! He burned the candle at both ends! Thepetticoat has ruined him! 'Tis not himself that I pity, but his poorwife!" For the Citizen admired virtuous women, and had a great esteemfor Madame Arnoux.

  "She must have suffered a nice lot!"

  Frederick felt grateful to him for his sympathy; and, as if Regimbarthad done him a service, pressed his hand effusively.

  "Have you done all that's necessary in the matter?" was Rosanette'sgreeting to him when she saw him again.

  He had not been able to pluck up courage to do it, he answered, andwalked about the streets at random to divert his thoughts.

  At eight o'clock, they passed into the dining-room; but they remainedseated face to face in silence, gave vent each to a deep sigh every nowand then, and pushed away their plates.

  Frederick drank some brandy. He felt quite shattered, crushed,annihilated, no longer conscious of anything save a sensation of extremefatigue.

  She went to look at the portrait. The red, the yellow, the green, andthe indigo made glaring stains that jarred with each other, so that itlooked a hideous thing--almost ridiculous.

  Besides, the dead child was now unrecognisable. The purple hue of hislips made the whiteness of his skin more remarkable. His nostrils weremore drawn than before, his eyes more hollow; and his head rested on apillow of blue taffeta, surrounded by petals of camelias, autumn roses,and violets. This was an idea suggested by the chambermaid, and both ofthem had thus with pious care arranged the little corpse. Themantelpiece, covered with a cloth of guipure, supported silver-giltcandlesticks with bunches of consecrated box in the spaces between them.At the corners there were a pair of vases in which pastilles wereburning. All these t
hings, taken in conjunction with the cradle,presented the aspect of an altar; and Frederick recalled to mind thenight when he had watched beside M. Dambreuse's death-bed.

  Nearly every quarter of an hour Rosanette drew aside the curtains inorder to take a look at her child. She saw him in imagination, a fewmonths hence, beginning to walk; then at college, in the middle of therecreation-ground, playing a game of base; then at twenty years afull-grown young man; and all these pictures conjured up by her braincreated for her, as it were, the son she would have lost, had he onlylived, the excess of her grief intensifying in her the maternalinstinct.

  Frederick, sitting motionless in another armchair, was thinking ofMadame Arnoux.

  No doubt she was at that moment in a train, with her face leaningagainst a carriage window, while she watched the country disappearingbehind her in the direction of Paris, or else on the deck of asteamboat, as on the occasion when they first met; but this vesselcarried her away into distant countries, from which she would neverreturn. He next saw her in a room at an inn, with trunks covering thefloor, the wall-paper hanging in shreds, and the door shaking in thewind. And after that--to what would she be compelled to turn? Would shehave to become a school-mistress or a lady's companion, or perhaps achambermaid? She was exposed to all the vicissitudes of poverty. Hisutter ignorance as to what her fate might be tortured his mind. He oughteither to have opposed her departure or to have followed her. Was he nother real husband? And as the thought impressed itself on hisconsciousness that he would never meet her again, that it was all overforever, that she was lost to him beyond recall, he felt, so to speak, arending of his entire being, and the tears that had been gathering sincemorning in his heart overflowed.

  Rosanette noticed the tears in his eyes.

  "Ah! you are crying just like me! You are grieving, too?"

  "Yes! yes! I am----"

  He pressed her to his heart, and they both sobbed, locked in eachother's arms.

  Madame Dambreuse was weeping too, as she lay, face downwards, on herbed, with her hands clasped over her head.

  Olympe Regimbart having come that evening to try on her first colouredgown after mourning, had told her about Frederick's visit, and evenabout the twelve thousand francs which he had ready to transfer to M.Arnoux.

  So, then, this money, the very money which he had got from her, wasintended to be used simply for the purpose of preventing the other fromleaving Paris--for the purpose, in fact, of preserving a mistress!

  At first, she broke into a violent rage, and determined to drive himfrom her door, as she would have driven a lackey. A copious flow oftears produced a soothing effect upon her. It was better to keep it allto herself, and say nothing about it.

  Frederick brought her back the twelve thousand francs on the followingday.

  She begged of him to keep the money lest he might require it for hisfriend, and she asked a number of questions about this gentleman. Who,then, had tempted him to such a breach of trust? A woman, no doubt!Women drag you into every kind of crime.

  This bantering tone put Frederick out of countenance. He felt deepremorse for the calumny he had invented. He was reassured by thereflection that Madame Dambreuse could not be aware of the facts. Allthe same, she was very persistent about the subject; for, two dayslater, she again made enquiries about his young friend, and, after that,about another--Deslauriers.

  "Is this young man trustworthy and intelligent?"

  Frederick spoke highly of him.

  "Ask him to call on me one of these mornings; I want to consult himabout a matter of business."

  She had found a roll of old papers in which there were some bills ofArnoux, which had been duly protested, and which had been signed byMadame Arnoux. It was about these very bills Frederick had called on M.Dambreuse on one occasion while the latter was at breakfast; and,although the capitalist had not sought to enforce repayment of thisoutstanding debt, he had not only got judgment on foot of them from theTribunal of Commerce against Arnoux, but also against his wife, who knewnothing about the matter, as her husband had not thought fit to give herany information on the point.

  Here was a weapon placed in Madame Dambreuse's hands--she had no doubtabout it. But her notary would advise her to take no step in the affair.She would have preferred to act through some obscure person, and shethought of that big fellow with such an impudent expression of face, whohad offered her his services.

  Frederick ingenuously performed this commission for her.

  The advocate was enchanted at the idea of having business relations withsuch an aristocratic lady.

  He hurried to Madame Dambreuse's house.

  She informed him that the inheritance belonged to her niece, a furtherreason for liquidating those debts which she should repay, her objectbeing to overwhelm Martinon's wife by a display of greater attention tothe deceased's affairs.

  Deslauriers guessed that there was some hidden design underlying allthis. He reflected while he was examining the bills. Madame Arnoux'sname, traced by her own hand, brought once more before his eyes herentire person, and the insult which he had received at her hands. Sincevengeance was offered to him, why should he not snatch at it?

  He accordingly advised Madame Dambreuse to have the bad debts which wentwith the inheritance sold by auction. A man of straw, whose name wouldnot be divulged, would buy them up, and would exercise the legal rightsthus given him to realise them. He would take it on himself to provide aman to discharge this function.

  Towards the end of the month of November, Frederick, happening to passthrough the street in which Madame Arnoux had lived, raised his eyestowards the windows of her house, and saw posted on the door a placardon which was printed in large letters:

  "Sale of valuable furniture, consisting of kitchen utensils, body andtable linen, shirts and chemises, lace, petticoats, trousers, French andIndian cashmeres, an Erard piano, two Renaissance oak chests, Venetianmirrors, Chinese and Japanese pottery."

  "'Tis their furniture!" said Frederick to himself, and his suspicionswere confirmed by the doorkeeper.

  As for the person who had given instructions for the sale, he could getno information on that head. But perhaps the auctioneer, MaitreBerthelmot, might be able to throw light on the subject.

  The functionary did not at first want to tell what creditor was havingthe sale carried out. Frederick pressed him on the point. It was agentleman named Senecal, an agent; and Maitre Berthelmot even carriedhis politeness so far as to lend his newspaper--the _PetitesAffiches_--to Frederick.

  The latter, on reaching Rosanette's house, flung down this paper on thetable spread wide open.

  "Read that!"

  "Well, what?" said she with a face so calm that it roused up in him afeeling of revolt.

  "Ah! keep up that air of innocence!"

  "I don't understand what you mean."

  "'Tis you who are selling out Madame Arnoux yourself!"

  She read over the announcement again.

  "Where is her name?"

  "Oh! 'tis her furniture. You know that as well as I do."

  "What does that signify to me?" said Rosanette, shrugging her shoulders.

  "What does it signify to you? But you are taking your revenge, that'sall. This is the consequence of your persecutions. Haven't you outragedher so far as to call at her house?--you, a worthless creature! and thisto the most saintly, the most charming, the best woman that ever lived!Why do you set your heart on ruining her?"

  "I assure you, you are mistaken!"

  "Come now! As if you had not put Senecal forward to do this!"

  "What nonsense!"

  Then he was carried away with rage.

  "You lie! you lie! you wretch! You are jealous of her! You have got ajudgment against her husband! Senecal is already mixed up in youraffairs. He detests Arnoux; and your two hatreds have entered into acombination with one another. I saw how delighted he was when you wonthat action of yours about the kaolin shares. Are you going to denythis?"

  "I give you my word--
--"

  "Oh, I know what that's worth--your word!"

  And Frederick reminded her of her lovers, giving their names andcircumstantial details. Rosanette drew back, all the colour fading fromher face.

  "You are astonished at this. You thought I was blind because I shut myeyes. Now I have had enough of it. We do not die through the treacheriesof a woman of your sort. When they become too monstrous we get out ofthe way. To inflict punishment on account of them would be only todegrade oneself."

  She twisted her arms about.

  "My God, who can it be that has changed him?"

  "Nobody but yourself."

  "And all this for Madame Arnoux!" exclaimed Rosanette, weeping.

  He replied coldly:

  "I have never loved any woman but her!"

  At this insult her tears ceased to flow.

  "That shows your good taste! A woman of mature years, with a complexionlike liquorice, a thick waist, big eyes like the ventholes of a cellar,and just as empty! As you like her so much, go and join her!"

  "This is just what I expected. Thank you!"

  Rosanette remained motionless, stupefied by this extraordinarybehaviour.

  She even allowed the door to be shut; then, with a bound, she pulled himback into the anteroom, and flinging her arms around him:

  "Why, you are mad! you are mad! this is absurd! I love you!" Then shechanged her tone to one of entreaty:

  "Good heavens! for the sake of our dead infant!"

  "Confess that it was you who did this trick!" said Frederick.

  She still protested that she was innocent.

  "You will not acknowledge it?"

  "No!"

  "Well, then, farewell! and forever!"

  "Listen to me!"

  Frederick turned round:

  "If you understood me better, you would know that my decision isirrevocable!"

  "Oh! oh! you will come back to me again!"

  "Never as long as I live!"

  And he slammed the door behind him violently.

  Rosanette wrote to Deslauriers saying that she wanted to see him atonce.

  He called one evening, about five days later; and, when she told himabout the rupture:

  "That's all! A nice piece of bad luck!"

  She thought at first that he would have been able to bring backFrederick; but now all was lost. She ascertained through the doorkeeperthat he was about to be married to Madame Dambreuse.

  Deslauriers gave her a lecture, and showed himself an exceedingly gayfellow, quite a jolly dog; and, as it was very late, asked permission topass the night in an armchair.

  Then, next morning, he set out again for Nogent, informing her that hewas unable to say when they would meet once more. In a little while,there would perhaps be a great change in his life.

  Two hours after his return, the town was in a state of revolution. Thenews went round that M. Frederick was going to marry Madame Dambreuse.At length the three Mesdemoiselles Auger, unable to stand it any longer,made their way to the house of Madame Moreau, who with an air of prideconfirmed this intelligence. Pere Roque became quite ill when he heardit. Louise locked herself up; it was even rumoured that she had gonemad.

  Meanwhile, Frederick was unable to hide his dejection. Madame Dambreuse,in order to divert his mind, no doubt, from gloomy thoughts, redoubledher attentions. Every afternoon they went out for a drive in hercarriage; and, on one occasion, as they were passing along the Place dela Bourse, she took the idea into her head to pay a visit to the publicauction-rooms for the sake of amusement.

  It was the 1st of December, the very day on which the sale of MadameArnoux's furniture was to take place. He remembered the date, andmanifested his repugnance, declaring that this place was intolerable onaccount of the crush and the noise. She only wanted to get a peep at it.The brougham drew up. He had no alternative but to accompany her.

  In the open space could be seen washhand-stands without basins, thewooden portions of armchairs, old hampers, pieces of porcelain, emptybottles, mattresses; and men in blouses or in dirty frock-coats, allgrey with dust, and mean-looking faces, some with canvas sacks overtheir shoulders, were chatting in separate groups or hailing each otherin a disorderly fashion.

  Frederick urged that it was inconvenient to go on any further.

  "Pooh!"

  And they ascended the stairs. In the first room, at the right,gentlemen, with catalogues in their hands, were examining pictures; inanother, a collection of Chinese weapons were being sold. MadameDambreuse wanted to go down again. She looked at the numbers over thedoors, and she led him to the end of the corridor towards an apartmentwhich was blocked up with people.

  He immediately recognised the two whatnots belonging to the office of_L'Art Industriel_, her work-table, all her furniture. Heaped up at theend of the room according to their respective heights, they formed along slope from the floor to the windows, and at the other sides of theapartment, the carpets and the curtains hung down straight along thewalls. There were underneath steps occupied by old men who had fallenasleep. At the left rose a sort of counter at which the auctioneer, in awhite cravat, was lightly swinging a little hammer. By his side a youngman was writing, and below him stood a sturdy fellow, between acommercial traveller and a vendor of countermarks, crying out:"Furniture for sale." Three attendants placed the articles on a table,at the sides of which sat in a row second-hand dealers and old-clothes'women. The general public at the auction kept walking in a circle behindthem.

  When Frederick came in, the petticoats, the neckerchiefs, and even thechemises were being passed on from hand to hand, and then given back.Sometimes they were flung some distance, and suddenly strips ofwhiteness went flying through the air. After that her gowns were sold,and then one of her hats, the broken feather of which was hanging down,then her furs, and then three pairs of boots; and the disposal by saleof these relics, wherein he could trace in a confused sort of way thevery outlines of her form, appeared to him an atrocity, as if he hadseen carrion crows mangling her corpse. The atmosphere of the room,heavy with so many breaths, made him feel sick. Madame Dambreuse offeredhim her smelling-bottle. She said that she found all this highlyamusing.

  The bedroom furniture was now exhibited. Maitre Berthelmot named aprice. The crier immediately repeated it in a louder voice, and thethree auctioneer's assistants quietly waited for the stroke of thehammer, and then carried off the article sold to an adjoining apartment.In this way disappeared, one after the other, the large blue carpetspangled with camellias, which her dainty feet used to touch so lightlyas she advanced to meet him, the little upholstered easy-chair, in whichhe used to sit facing her when they were alone together, the two screensbelonging to the mantelpiece, the ivory of which had been renderedsmoother by the touch of her hands, and a velvet pincushion, which wasstill bristling with pins. It was as if portions of his heart had beencarried away with these things; and the monotony of the same voices andthe same gestures benumbed him with fatigue, and caused within him amournful torpor, a sensation like that of death itself.

  There was a rustle of silk close to his ear. Rosanette touched him.

  It was through Frederick himself that she had learned about thisauction. When her first feelings of vexation was over, the idea ofderiving profit from it occurred to her mind. She had come to see it ina white satin vest with pearl buttons, a furbelowed gown, tight-fittinggloves on her hands, and a look of triumph on her face.

  He grew pale with anger. She stared at the woman who was by his side.

  Madame Dambreuse had recognised her, and for a minute they examined eachother from head to foot minutely, in order to discover the defect, theblemish--the one perhaps envying the other's youth, and the other filledwith spite at the extreme good form, the aristocratic simplicity of herrival.

  At last Madame Dambreuse turned her head round with a smile ofinexpressible insolence.

  The crier had opened a piano--her piano! While he remained standingbefore it he ran the fingers of his right hand over the keys,
and put upthe instrument at twelve hundred francs; then he brought down thefigures to one thousand, then to eight hundred, and finally to sevenhundred.

  Madame Dambreuse, in a playful tone, laughed at the appearance of somesocket that was out of gear.

  The next thing placed before the second-hand dealers was a little chestwith medallions and silver corners and clasps, the same one which he hadseen at the first dinner in the Rue de Choiseul, which had subsequentlybeen in Rosanette's house, and again transferred back to Madame Arnoux'sresidence. Often, during their conversations his eyes wandered towardsit. He was bound to it by the dearest memories, and his soul was meltingwith tender emotions about it, when suddenly Madame Dambreuse said:

  "Look here! I am going to buy that!"

  "But it is not a very rare article," he returned.

  She considered it, on the contrary, very pretty, and the appraisercommended its delicacy.

  "A gem of the Renaissance! Eight hundred francs, messieurs! Almostentirely of silver! With a little whiting it can be made to shinebrilliantly."

  And, as she was pushing forward through the crush of people:

  "What an odd idea!" said Frederick.

  "You are annoyed at this!"

  "No! But what can be done with a fancy article of that sort?"

  "Who knows? Love-letters might be kept in it, perhaps!"

  She gave him a look which made the allusion very clear.

  "A reason the more for not robbing the dead of their secrets."

  "I did not imagine she was dead." And then in a loud voice she went onto bid:

  "Eight hundred and eighty francs!"

  "What you're doing is not right," murmured Frederick.

  She began to laugh.

  "But this is the first favour, dear, that I am asking from you."

  "Come, now! doesn't it strike you that at this rate you won't be a veryconsiderate husband?"

  Some one had just at that moment made a higher bid.

  "Nine hundred francs!"

  "Nine hundred francs!" repeated Maitre Berthelmot.

  "Nine hundred and ten--fifteen--twenty--thirty!" squeaked theauctioneer's crier, with jerky shakes of his head as he cast a sweepingglance at those assembled around him.

  "Show me that I am going to have a wife who is amenable to reason," saidFrederick.

  And he gently drew her towards the door.

  The auctioneer proceeded:

  "Come, come, messieurs; nine hundred and thirty. Is there any bidder atnine hundred and thirty?"

  Madame Dambreuse, just as she had reached the door, stopped, and raisingher voice to a high pitch:

  "One thousand francs!"

  There was a thrill of astonishment, and then a dead silence.

  "A thousand francs, messieurs, a thousand francs! Is nobody advancing onthis bid? Is that clear? Very well, then--one thousand francs!going!--gone!"

  And down came the ivory hammer. She passed in her card, and the littlechest was handed over to her. She thrust it into her muff.

  Frederick felt a great chill penetrating his heart.

  Madame Dambreuse had not let go her hold of his arm; and she had not thecourage to look up at his face in the street, where her carriage wasawaiting her.

  She flung herself into it, like a thief flying away after a robbery, andthen turned towards Frederick. He had his hat in his hand.

  "Are you not going to come in?"

  "No, Madame!"

  And, bowing to her frigidly, he shut the carriage-door, and then made asign to the coachman to drive away.

  The first feeling that he experienced was one of joy at having regainedhis independence. He was filled with pride at the thought that he hadavenged Madame Arnoux by sacrificing a fortune to her; then, he wasamazed at his own act, and he felt doubled up with extreme physicalexhaustion.

  Next morning his man-servant brought him the news.

  The city had been declared to be in a state of siege; the Assembly hadbeen dissolved; and a number of the representatives of the people hadbeen imprisoned at Mazas. Public affairs had assumed to his mind anutterly unimportant aspect, so deeply preoccupied was he by his privatetroubles.

  He wrote to several tradesmen countermanding various orders which he hadgiven for the purchase of articles in connection with his projectedmarriage, which now appeared to him in the light of a rather meanspeculation; and he execrated Madame Dambreuse, because, owing to her,he had been very near perpetrating a vile action. He had forgotten theMarechale, and did not even bother himself about Madame Arnoux--absorbedonly in one thought--lost amid the wreck of his dreams, sick at heart,full of grief and disappointment, and in his hatred of the artificialatmosphere wherein he had suffered so much, he longed for the freshnessof green fields, the repose of provincial life, a sleeping existencespent beneath his natal roof in the midst of ingenuous hearts. At last,when Wednesday evening arrived, he made his way out into the open air.

  On the boulevard numerous groups had taken up their stand. From time totime a patrol came and dispersed them; they gathered together again inregular order behind it. They talked freely and in loud tones, madechaffing remarks about the soldiers, without anything further happening.

  "What! are they not going to fight?" said Frederick to a workman.

  "They're not such fools as to get themselves killed for the well-offpeople! Let them take care of themselves!"

  And a gentleman muttered, as he glanced across at the inhabitants of thefaubourgs:

  "Socialist rascals! If it were only possible, this time, to exterminatethem!"

  Frederick could not, for the life of him, understand the necessity of somuch rancour and vituperative language. His feeling of disgust againstParis was intensified by these occurrences, and two days later he setout for Nogent by the first train.

  The houses soon became lost to view; the country stretched out beforehis gaze. Alone in his carriage, with his feet on the seat in front ofhim, he pondered over the events of the last few days, and then on hisentire past. The recollection of Louise came back to his mind.

  "She, indeed, loved me truly! I was wrong not to snatch at this chanceof happiness. Pooh! let us not think any more about it!"

  Then, five minutes afterwards: "Who knows, after all? Why not, later?"

  His reverie, like his eyes, wandered afar towards vague horizons.

  "She was artless, a peasant girl, almost a savage; but so good!"

  In proportion as he drew nearer to Nogent, her image drew closer to him.As they were passing through the meadows of Sourdun, he saw her oncemore in imagination under the poplar-trees, as in the old days, cuttingrushes on the edges of the pools. And now they had reached theirdestination; he stepped out of the train.

  Then he leaned with his elbows on the bridge, to gaze again at the isleand the garden where they had walked together one sunshiny day, and thedizzy sensation caused by travelling, together with the weaknessengendered by his recent emotions, arousing in his breast a sort ofexaltation, he said to himself:

  "She has gone out, perhaps; suppose I were to go and meet her!"

  The bell of Saint-Laurent was ringing, and in the square in front of thechurch there was a crowd of poor people around an open carriage, theonly one in the district--the one which was always hired for weddings.And all of a sudden, under the church-gate, accompanied by a number ofwell-dressed persons in white cravats, a newly-married couple appeared.

  He thought he must be labouring under some hallucination. But no! Itwas, indeed, Louise! covered with a white veil which flowed from her redhair down to her heels; and with her was no other than Deslauriers,attired in a blue coat embroidered with silver--the costume of aprefect.

  How was this?

  Frederick concealed himself at the corner of a house to let theprocession pass.

  Shamefaced, vanquished, crushed, he retraced his steps to therailway-station, and returned to Paris.

  The cabman who drove him assured him that the barricades were erectedfrom the Chateau d'Eau to the Gymnase, and tu
rned down the FaubourgSaint-Martin. At the corner of the Rue de Provence, Frederick steppedout in order to reach the boulevards.

  It was five o'clock. A thin shower was falling. A number of citizensblocked up the footpath close to the Opera House. The houses oppositewere closed. No one at any of the windows. All along the boulevard,dragoons were galloping behind a row of wagons, leaning with drawnswords over their horses; and the plumes of their helmets, and theirlarge white cloaks, rising up behind them, could be seen under the glareof the gas-lamps, which shook in the wind in the midst of a haze. Thecrowd gazed at them mute with fear.

  In the intervals between the cavalry-charges, squads of policemenarrived on the scene to keep back the people in the streets.

  But on the steps of Tortoni, a man--Dussardier--who could bedistinguished at a distance by his great height, remained standing asmotionless as a caryatide.

  One of the police-officers, marching at the head of his men, with histhree-cornered hat drawn over his eyes, threatened him with his sword.

  The other thereupon took one step forward, and shouted:

  "Long live the Republic!"

  The next moment he fell on his back with his arms crossed.

  A yell of horror arose from the crowd. The police-officer, with a lookof command, made a circle around him; and Frederick, gazing at him inopen-mouthed astonishment, recognised Senecal.

  When a woman suddenly came in.]