CHAPTER II.
The French provinces were now organized upon a half military plan, bywhich all the local authorities radiated towards a centre of government.By-the-by, this feature has survived subsequent revolutions andpolitical changes.
In days of change, youth is at a premium; because, though experience isvaluable, the experience of one order of things unfits ordinary men foranother order of things. So a good many old fogies in office were shownthe door, and a good deal of youth and energy infused into the veins ofprovincial government. For instance, Edouard Riviere, who had but justcompleted his education with singular eclat at a military school, wasone fine day ordered into Brittany to fill a responsible post underCommandant Raynal, a blunt, rough soldier, that had risen from theranks, and bore a much higher character for zeal and moral integritythan for affability.
This officer was the son of a widow that kept a grocer's shop in Paris.She intended him for spice, but he thirsted for glory, and vexed her. Soshe yielded, as mothers will.
In the armies of the republic a good soldier rose with unparalleledcertainty, and rapidity, too; for when soldiers are being mowed downlike oats, it is a glorious time for such of them as keep their feet.Raynal mounted fast, and used to write to his mother, and joke her aboutthe army being such a bad profession; and, as he was all for glory, notmoney, he lived with Spartan frugality, and saved half his pay and allhis prize money for the old lady in Paris.
But this prosperous man had to endure a deep disappointment; on the veryday he was made commandant and one of the general's aides-de-camp, camea letter into the camp. His mother was dead after a short illness. Thiswas a terrible blow to the simple, rugged soldier, who had never hadmuch time nor inclination to flirt with a lot of girls, and toughen hisheart. He came back to Paris honored and rich, but downcast. The oldhome, empty of his mother, seemed to him not to have the old look.It made him sadder. To cheer him up they brought him much money. Thewidow's trade had taken a wonderful start the last few years, and shehad been playing the same game as he had, living on ten-pence a day, andsaving all for him. This made him sadder, if anything.
"What," said he, "have we both been scraping all this dross togetherfor? I would give it all to sit one hour by the fire, with her hand inmine, and hear her say, 'Scamp, you made me unhappy when you were young,but I have lived to be proud of you.'"
He applied for active service, no matter what: obtained at once thispost in Brittany, and threw himself into it with that honest zeal andactivity, which are the best earthly medicine for all our griefs. He wasbusy writing, when young Riviere first presented himself. He looked upfor a moment, and eyed him, to take his measure; then put into hishand a report by young Nicole, a subordinate filling a post of the samenature as Riviere's; and bade him analyze that report on the spot: withthis he instantly resumed his own work.
Edouard Riviere was an adept at this sort of task, and soon handed hima neat analysis. Raynal ran his eye over it, nodded cold approval, andtold him to take this for the present as a guide as to his own duties.He then pointed to a map on which Riviere's district was marked inblue ink, and bade him find the centre of it. Edouard took a pairof compasses off the table, and soon discovered that the village ofBeaurepaire was his centre. "Then quarter yourself at Beaurepaire; andgood-day," said Raynal.
The chateau was in sight from Riviere's quarters, and he soon learnedthat it belonged to a royalist widow and her daughters, who all threeheld themselves quite aloof from the rest of the world. "Ah," said theyoung citizen, "I see. If these rococo citizens play that game with me,I shall have to take them down." Thus a fresh peril menaced this family,on whose hearts and fortunes such heavy blows had fallen.
One evening our young official, after a day spent in the service ofthe country, deigned to take a little stroll to relieve the cares ofadministration. He imprinted on his beardless face the expression ofa wearied statesman, and strolled through an admiring village. The menpretended veneration from policy; the women, whose views of this greatman were shallower but more sincere, smiled approval of his airs; andthe young puppy affected to take no notice of either sex.
Outside the village, Publicola suddenly encountered two young ladies,who resembled nothing he had hitherto met with in his district; theywere dressed in black, and with extreme simplicity; but their easy graceand composure, and the refined sentiment of their gentle faces, told ata glance they belonged to the high nobility. Publicola divined them atonce, and involuntarily raised his hat to so much beauty and dignity,instead of poking it with a finger as usual. On this the ladiesinstantly courtesied to him after the manner of their party, with asweep and a majesty, and a precision of politeness, that the pup wouldhave laughed at if he had heard of it; but seeing it done, and welldone, and by lovely women of rank, he was taken aback by it, and liftedhis hat again, and bowed again after he had gone by, and was generallyflustered. In short, instead of a member of the Consular Governmentsaluting private individuals of a decayed party that existed onlyby sufferance, a handsome, vain, good-natured boy had met twoself-possessed young ladies of distinction and breeding, and had cut theusual figure.
For the next hundred yards his cheeks burned and his vanity cooled. Butbumptiousness is elastic in France, as in England, and doubtless amongthe Esquimaux. "Well, they are pretty girls," says he to himself. "Inever saw two such pretty girls together; they will do for me to flirtwith while I am banished to this Arcadia." Banished from school, I begto observe.
And "awful beauty" being no longer in sight, Mr. Edouard resolved hewould flirt with them to their hearts' content. But there are ladieswith whom a certain preliminary is required before you can flirt withthem. You must be on speaking terms. How was this to be managed?
He used to watch at his window with a telescope, and whenever thesisters came out of their own grounds, which unfortunately was notabove twice a week, he would throw himself in their way by the merestaccident, and pay them a dignified and courteous salute, which he hadcarefully got up before a mirror in the privacy of his own chamber.
One day, as he took off his hat to the young ladies, there broke fromone of them a smile, so sudden, sweet, and vivid, that he seemed to feelit smite him first on the eyes then in the heart. He could not sleep forthis smile.
Yet he had seen many smilers; but to be sure most of them smiled withouteffect, because they smiled eternally; they seemed cast with theirmouths open, and their pretty teeth forever in sight; and this has asaddening influence on a man of sense--when it has any. But here a fair,pensive face had brightened at sight of him; a lovely countenance, onwhich circumstances, not nature, had impressed gravity, had sprung backto its natural gayety for a moment, and had thrilled and bewitched thebeholder.
The next Sunday he went to church--and there worshipped--whom? Cupid.He smarted for his heathenism; for the young ladies went with highermotives, and took no notice of him. They lowered their long silkenlashes over one breviary, and scarcely observed the handsome citizen.Meantime he, contemplating their pious beauty with earthly eyes, wasdrinking long draughts of intoxicating passion. And when after theservice they each took an arm of Dr. Aubertin, and he with the air of anadmiral convoying two ships choke-full of specie, conducted his preciouscharge away home, our young citizen felt jealous, and all but hated theworthy doctor.
This went on till he became listless and dejected on the days he did notsee them. Then he asked himself whether he was not a cowardly foolto keep at such a distance. After all he was a man in authority. Hisfriendship was not to be despised, least of all by a family suspected ofdisaffection to the state.
He put on his glossy beaver with enormous brim, high curved; hisblue coat with brass buttons; his white waistcoat, gray breeches, andtop-boots; and marched up to the chateau of Beaurepaire, and sent in hiscard with his name and office inscribed.
Jacintha took it, bestowed a glance of undisguised admiration onthe young Adonis, and carried it to the baroness. That lady sent herpromptly down again with a black-edged note to this effect.
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Highly flattered by Monsieur de Riviere's visit, the baroness mustinform him that she receives none but old acquaintances, in the presentgrief of the family, and of the KINGDOM.
Young Riviere was cruelly mortified by this rebuff. He went offhurriedly, grinding his teeth with rage.
"Cursed aristocrats! We have done well to pull you down, and we willhave you lower still. How I despise myself for giving any one the chanceto affront me thus. The haughty old fool; if she had known her interest,she would have been too glad to make a powerful friend. These royalistsare in a ticklish position; I can tell her that. She calls me DeRiviere; that implies nobody without a 'De' to their name would have thepresumption to visit her old tumble-down house. Well, it is a lesson; Iam a republican, and the Commonwealth trusts and honors me; yet I amso ungrateful as to go out of the way to be civil to her enemies, toroyalists; as if those worn-out creatures had hearts, as if they couldcomprehend the struggle that took place in my mind between duty, andgenerosity to the fallen, before I could make the first overture totheir acquaintance; as if they could understand the politeness ofthe heart, or anything nobler than curving and ducking and heartlessetiquette. This is the last notice I will ever take of that old woman,unless it is to denounce her."
He walked home to the town very fast, his heart boiling, and his lipscompressed, and his brow knitted.
To this mood succeeded a sullen and bitter one. He was generous, butvain, and his love had humiliated him so bitterly, he resolved to tearit out of his heart. He absented himself from church; he met the youngladies no more. He struggled fiercely with his passion; he went aboutdogged, silent, and sighing. Presently he devoted his leisure hoursto shooting partridges instead of ladies. And he was right; partridgescannot shoot back; whereas beautiful women, like Cupid, are all archersmore or less, and often with one arrow from eye or lip do more executionthan they have suffered from several discharges of our small shot.
In these excursions, Edouard was generally accompanied by a thick-setrustic called Dard, who, I believe, purposes to reveal his own characterto you, and so save me that trouble.
One fine afternoon, about four o'clock, this pair burst remorselesslythrough a fence, and landed in the road opposite Bigot's Auberge; a longlow house, with "ICI ON LOGE A PIED ET A CHEVAL," written all across itin gigantic letters. Riviere was for moving homeward, but Dard haltedand complained dismally of "the soldier's gripes." The statesman hadnever heard of that complaint, so Dard explained that the VULGAR namefor it was hunger. "And only smell," said he, "the soup is just fit tocome off the fire."
Riviere smiled sadly, but consented to deign to eat a morsel in theporch. Thereat Dard dashed wildly into the kitchen.
They dined at one little round table, each after his fashion. When Dardcould eat no more, he proceeded to drink; and to talk in proportion.Riviere, lost in his own thoughts, attended to him as men of business doto a babbling brook; until suddenly from the mass of twaddle broke fortha magic word--Beaurepaire; then the languid lover pricked up his earsand found Mr. Dard was abusing that noble family right and left. YoungRiviere inquired what ground of offence they had given HIM. "I'll tellyou," said Dard; "they impose on Jacintha; and so she imposes on me."Then observing he had at last gained his employer's ear, he becameprodigiously loquacious, as such people generally are when once they getupon their own griefs.
"These Beaurepaire aristocrats," said he, with his hard peasantgood-sense, "are neither the one thing nor the other; they cannot keepup nobility, they have not the means; they will not come down off theirperch, they have not the sense. No, for as small as they are, they mustlook and talk as big as ever. They can only afford one servant, andI don't believe they pay her; but they must be attended on just asobsequious as when they had a dozen. And this is fatal to all us littlepeople that have the misfortune to be connected with them."
"Why, how are you connected with them?"
"By the tie of affection."
"I thought you hated them."
"Of course I do; but I have the ill-luck to love Jacintha, and she lovesthese aristocrats, and makes me do little odd jobs for them." And atthis Dard's eyes suddenly glared with horror.
"Well, what of that?" asked Riviere.
"What of it, citizen, what? you do not know the fatal meaning of thoseaccursed words?"
"Why, I never heard of a man's back being broken by little odd jobs."
"Perhaps not his back, citizen, but his heart? if little odd jobs willnot break that, why nothing will. Torn from place to place, and fromtrouble to trouble; as soon as one tiresome thing begins to go a bitsmooth, off to a fresh plague, in-doors work when it is dry, out-a-doorswhen it snows; and then all bustle; no taking one's work quietly, theonly way it agrees with a fellow. 'Milk the cow, Dard, but look sharp;the baroness's chair wants mending. Take these slops to the pig, but youmust not wait to see him enjoy them: you are wanted to chop billets.'Beat the mats, take down the curtains, walk to church (best part ofa league), and heat the pew cushions; come back and cut the cabbages,paint the door, and wheel the old lady about the terrace, rubquicksilver on the little dog's back,--mind he don't bite you to makehisself sick,--repair the ottoman, roll the gravel, scour the kettles,carry half a ton of water up two purostairs, trim the turf, prune thevine, drag the fish-pond; and when you ARE there, go in and gather waterlilies for Mademoiselle Josephine while you are drowning the puppies;that is little odd jobs: may Satan twist her neck who invented them!"
"Very sad all this," said young Riviere.
Dard took the little sneer for sympathy, and proceeded to "the cruellestwrong of all."
"When I go into their kitchen to court Jacintha a bit, instead offinding a good supper there, which a man has a right to, courting acook, if I don't take one in my pocket, there is no supper, not tosay supper, for either her or me. I don't call a salad and a bit ofcheese-rind--SUPPER. Beggars in silk and satin! Every sou they have goeson to their backs, instead of into their bellies."
"I have heard their income is much reduced," said Edouard gently.
"Income! I would not change with them if they'd throw me in half apancake a day. I tell you they are the poorest family for leagues round;not that they need be quite so starved, if they could swallow a littleof their pride. But no, they must have china and plate and fine linenat dinner; so their fine plates are always bare, and their silvertrays empty. Ask the butcher, if you don't believe ME. Just you ask himwhether he does not go three times to the smallest shopkeeper, for oncehe goes to Beaurepaire. Their tenants send them a little meal and eggs,and now and then a hen; and their great garden is chock full of fruitand vegetables, and Jacintha makes me dig in it gratis; and so theymuddle on. But, bless your heart, coffee! they can't afford it; so theyroast a lot of horse-beans that cost nothing, and grind them, and serveup the liquor in a silver coffee-pot, on a silver salver. Haw, haw,haw!"
"Is it possible? reduced to this?" said Edouard gravely.
"Don't you be so weak as to pity them," cried the remorseless plebeian."Why don't they melt their silver into soup, and cut down their plateinto rashers of bacon? why not sell the superfluous, and buy theneedful, which it is grub? And, above all, why don't they let their oldtumble-down palace to some rich grocer, and that accursed garden alongwith it, where I sweat gratis, and live small and comfortable, and payhonest men for their little odd jobs, and"--
Here Riviere interrupted him, and asked if it was really true about thebeans.
"True?" said Dard, "why, I have seen Rose doing it for the old woman'sbreakfast: it was Rose invented the move. A girl of nineteen beginningalready to deceive the world! But they are all tarred with the samestick. Down with the aristocrats!"
"Dard," said Riviere, "you are a brute."
"Me, citizen?" inquired Dard with every appearance of genuine surprise.
Edouard Riviere rose from his seat in great excitement. Dard's abuse ofthe family he was lately so bitter against had turned him right round.He pitied the very baroness herself, and forgave her declining hi
svisit.
"Be silent," said he, "for shame! There is such a thing as noblepoverty; and you have described it. I might have disdained these peoplein their prosperity, but I revere them in their affliction. And I'lltell you what, don't you ever dare to speak slightly of them again in mypresence, or"--
He did not conclude his threat, for just then he observed that astrapping girl, with a basket at her feet, was standing against thecorner of the Auberge, in a mighty careless attitude, but doing nothing,so most likely listening with all her ears and soul. Dard, however, didnot see her, his back being turned to her as he sat; so he replied athis ease,--
"I consent," said he very coolly: "that is your affair; but permit me,"and here he clenched his teeth at remembrance of his wrongs, "to saythat I will no more be a scullery man without wages to these high-mindedstarvelings, these illustrious beggars." Then he heated himself red-hot."I will not even be their galley slave. Next, I have done my last littleodd job in this world," yelled the now infuriated factotum, bouncingup to his feet in brief fury. "Of two things one: either Jacintha quitsthose aristos, or I leave Jacin--eh?--ah!--oh!--ahem! How--'ow d'ye do,Jacintha?" And his roar ended in a whine, as when a dog runs barkingout, and receives in full career a cut from his master's whip, hisgenerous rage turns to whimper with ludicrous abruptness. "I was justtalking of you, Jacintha," quavered Dard in conclusion.
"I heard you, Dard," replied Jacintha slowly, softly, grimly.
Dard withered.
It was a lusty young woman, with a comely peasant face somewhatfreckled, and a pair of large black eyes surmounted by coal-black brows.She stood in a bold attitude, her massive but well-formed arms folded sothat the pressure of each against the other made them seem gigantic, andher cheek red with anger, and her eyes glistening like basilisks uponcitizen Dard. She looked so grand, with her lowering black brows, thateven Riviere felt a little uneasy. As for Jacintha, she was evidentlybrooding with more ire than she chose to utter before a stranger. Shejust slowly unclasped her arms, and, keeping her eye fixed on Dard,pointed with a domineering gesture towards Beaurepaire. Then the doughtyDard seemed no longer master of his limbs: he rose slowly, with his eyesfastened to hers, and was moving off like an ill-oiled automaton in thedirection indicated; but at that a suppressed snigger began to shakeRiviere's whole body till it bobbed up and down on the seat. Dard turnedto him for sympathy.
"There, citizen," he cried, "do you see that imperious gesture? Thatmeans you promised to dig in the aristocrat's garden this afternoon,so march! Here, then, is one that has gained nothing by kings being putdown, for I am ruled with a mopstick of iron. Thank your stars, citizen,that you are not in may place."
"Dard," retorted Jacintha, "if you don't like your place, I'd quit it.There are two or three young men down in the village will be glad totake it."
"I won't give them the chance, the vile egotists!" cried Dard. And hereturned to the chateau and little odd jobs.
Jacintha hung behind, lowered her eyes, put on a very deferentialmanner, and thanked Edouard for the kind sentiments he had uttered; butat the same time she took the liberty to warn him against believing theextravagant stories Dard had been telling about her mistress's poverty.She said the simple fact was that the baron had contracted debts, andthe baroness, being the soul of honor, was living in great economy topay them off. Then, as to Dard getting no supper up at Beaurepaire, acomplaint that appeared to sting her particularly, she assured him shewas alone to blame: the baroness would be very angry if she knew it."But," said she, "Dard is an egotist. Perhaps you may have noticed thattrait in him."
"Glimpses of it," replied Riviere, laughing.
"Monsieur, he is so egotistic that he has not a friend in the worldbut me. I forgive him, because I know the reason; he has never had aheadache or a heartache in his life."
Edouard, aged twenty, and a male, did not comprehend this piece offeminine logic one bit: and, while he puzzled over it in silence,Jacintha went on to say that if she were to fill her egotist's paunch,she should never know whether he came to Beaurepaire for her, orhimself. "Now, Dard," she added, "is no beauty, monsieur; why, he isthree inches shorter than I am."
"You are joking! he looks a foot," said Edouard.
"He is no scholar neither, and I have had to wipe up many a sneer andmany a sarcasm on his account; but up to now I have always been ableto reply that this five feet one of egotism loves me sincerely; and themoment I doubt this, I give him the sack,--poor little fellow!"
"In a word," said Riviere, a little impatiently, "the family atBeaurepaire are not in such straits as he pretends?"
"Monsieur, do I look like one starved?"
"By Jove, no! by Ceres, I mean."
"Are my young mistresses wan, and thin?"
"Treason! blasphemy! ah, no! By Venus and Hebe, no!"
Jacintha smiled at this enthusiastic denial, and also because her sex isapt to smile when words are used they do not understand.
"Dard is a fool," suggested Riviere, by way of general solution. Headded, "And yet, do you know I wish every word he said had been true."(Jacintha's eyes expressed some astonishment.) "Because then you and Iwould have concerted means to do them kindnesses, secretly; for I seeyou are no ordinary servant; you love your young mistresses. Do younot?"
These simple words seemed to touch a grander chord in Jacintha's nature.
"Love them?" said she, clasping her hands; "ah, sir, do not be offended;but, believe me, it is no small thing to serve an old, old family. Mygrandfather lived and died with them; my father was their gamekeeper,and fed to his last from off the poor baron's plate (and now they havekilled him, poor man); my mother died in the house and was buried inthe sacred ground near the family chapel. They put an inscription on hertomb praising her fidelity and probity. Do you think these things do notsink into the heart of the poor?--praise on her tomb, and not a word ontheir own, but just the name, and when each was born and died, you know.Ah! the pride of the mean is dirt; but the pride of the noble is gold."
"For, look you, among parvenues I should be a servant, and nothing more;in this proud family I am a humble friend; of course they are not alwaysgossiping with me like vulgar masters and mistresses; if they did, Ishould neither respect nor love them; but they all smile on me wheneverI come into the room, even the baroness herself. I belong to them, andthey belong to me, by ties without number, by the many kind words inmany troubles, by the one roof that sheltered us a hundred years, andthe grave where our bones lie together till the day of judgment."*
* The French peasant often thinks half a sentence, and utters the other half aloud, and so breaks air in the middle of a thought. Probably Jacintha's whole thought, if we had the means of knowing it, would have run like this--"Besides, I have another reason: I could not be so comfortable myself elsewhere--for, look you"--
Jacintha clasped her hands, and her black eyes shone out warm throughthe dew. Riviere's glistened too.
"That is well said," he cried; "it is nobly said: yet, after all, theseare ties that owe their force to the souls they bind. How often havesuch bonds round human hearts proved ropes of sand! They grapple YOUlike hooks of steel; because you are steel yourself to the backbone. Iadmire you, Jacintha. Such women as you have a great mission in Francejust now."
Jacintha shook her head incredulously. "What can we poor women do?"
"Bring forth heroes," cried Publicola with fervor. "Be the mothers ofgreat men, the Catos and the Gracchi of the future!"
Jacintha smiled. She did not know the Gracchi nor their politics; butthe name rang well. "Gracchi!" Aristocrats, no doubt. "That would be toomuch honor," replied she modestly. "At present, I must say adieu!" andshe moved off an inch at a time, in an uncertain hesitating manner, notvery difficult to read; but Riviere, you must know, had more than onceduring this interview begged her to sit down, and in vain; she hadalways thanked him, but said she had not a moment to stay. So he made noeffort to detain her now. The consequence was--she came slowly backof her own acco
rd, and sat down in a corner of the porch, where nobodycould see her, and then she sighed deeply.
"What is the matter now?" said Edouard, opening his eyes.
She looked at him point-blank for one moment; and her scale turned.
"Monsieur," said she timidly, "you have a good face, and a good heart.All I told you was--give me your honor not to betray us."
"I swear it," said Edouard, a little pompously.
"Then--Dard was not so far from the truth; it was but a guess of his,for I never trusted my own sweetheart as I now trust a stranger. But tosee what I see every day, and have no one I dare breathe a word to, oh,it is very hard! But on what a thread things turn! If any one had toldme an hour ago it was you I should open my heart to! It's not economy:it's not stinginess; they are not paying off their debts. They nevercan. The baroness and the Demoiselles de Beaurepaire--are paupers."
"Paupers, Jacintha?"
"Ay, paupers! their debts are greater than their means. They live hereby sufferance. They have only their old clothes to wear. They havehardly enough to eat. Just now our cow is in full milk, you know; sothat is a great help: but, when she goes dry, Heaven knows what we shalldo; for I don't. But that is not the worst; better a light meal than abroken heart. Your precious government offers the chateau for sale.They might as well send for the guillotine at once, and cut off all ourheads. You don't know my mistress as I do. Ah, butchers, you will dragnothing out of that but her corpse. And is it come to this? the greatold family to be turned adrift like beggars. My poor mistress! my prettydemoiselles that I played with and nursed ever since I was a child! (Iwas just six when Josephine was born) and that I shall love with my lastbreath"--
She could say no more, but choked by the strong feeling so long pent upin her own bosom, fell to sobbing hysterically, and trembling like onein an ague.
The statesman, who had passed all his short life at school and college,was frightened, and took hold of her and pulled her, and cried,"Oh! don't, Jacintha; you will kill yourself, you will die; this isfrightful: help here! help!" Jacintha put her hand to his mouth, and,without leaving off her hysterics, gasped out, "Ah! don't expose me."So then he didn't know what to do; but he seized a tumbler and filledit with wine, and forced it between her lips. All she did was to bite apiece out of the glass as clean as if a diamond had cut it. This didher a world of good: destruction of sacred household property gave heranother turn. "There, I've broke your glass now," she cried, with amarvellous change of tone; and she came-to and cried quietly like areasonable person, with her apron to her eyes.
When Edouard saw she was better, he took her hand and said proudly,"Secret for secret. I choose this moment to confide to you that I loveMademoiselle Rose de Beaurepaire. Love her? I did love her; but now youtell me she is poor and in distress, I adore her." The effect of thisdeclaration on Jacintha was magical, comical. Her apron came down fromone eye, and that eye dried itself and sparkled with curiosity: thewhole countenance speedily followed suit and beamed with sacred joy.What! an interesting love affair confided to her all in a moment! Shelowered her voice to a whisper directly. "Why, how did you manage? Shenever goes into company."
"No; but she goes to church. Besides, I have met her eleven times outwalking with her sister, and twice out of the eleven she smiled on me.O Jacintha! a smile such as angels smile; a smile to warm the heart andpurify the soul and last forever in the mind."
"Well, they say 'man is fire and woman tow:' but this beats all. Ha!ha!"
"Oh! do not jest. I did not laugh at you. Jacintha, it is no laughingmatter; I revere her as mortals revere the saints; I love her so thatwere I ever to lose all hope of her I would not live a day. And now thatyou have told me she is poor and in sorrow, and I think of her walkingso calm and gentle--always in black, Jacintha,--and her low courtesy tome whenever we met, and her sweet smile to me though her heart must besad, oh! my heart yearns for her. What can I do for her? How shall Isurround her with myself unseen--make her feel that a man's love waitsupon her feet every step she takes--that a man's love floats in the airround that lovely head?" Then descending to earth for a moment, "but Isay, you promise not to betray me; come, secret for secret."
"I will not tell a soul; on the honor of a woman," said Jacintha.
The form of protestation was quite new to Edouard, and not exactly theone his study of the ancient writers would have led him to select. Butthe tone was convincing: he trusted her. They parted sworn allies; and,at the very moment of parting, Jacintha, who had cast many a furtiveglance at the dead game, told Edouard demurely, Mademoiselle Rose wasvery fond of roast partridge. On this he made her take the whole bag;and went home on wings. Jacintha's revelation roused all that was nobleand forgiving in him. His understanding and his heart expanded from thathour, and his fancy spread its pinions to the sun of love. Ah! generousYouth, let who will betray thee; let who will sneer at thee; let me,though young no longer, smile on thee and joy in thee! She he loved wassad, was poor, was menaced by many ills; then she needed a champion. Hewould be her unseen friend, her guardian angel. A hundred wild schemeswhirled in his beating heart and brain. He could not go in-doors,indeed, no room could contain him: he made for a green lane he knew atthe back of the village, and there he walked up and down for hours.The sun set, and the night came, and the stars glittered; but still hewalked alone, inspired, exalted, full of generous and loving schemes: ofsweet and tender fancies: a heart on fire; and youth the fuel, and theflame vestal.