CHAPTER XLIV. ADRIENNE AND DJALMA.
When Faringhea had quitted the room, Rodin took the letter from Abbed'Aigrigny with one hand, and with the other appeared to be lookingfor something, first in the side pocket of his great-coat, then in thepocket behind, then in that of his trousers; and, not finding what hesought, he laid the letter on his knee, and felt himself all over withboth hands, with an air of regret and uneasiness. The divers movementsof this pantomime, performed in the most natural manner, were crowned bythe exclamations.
"Oh! dear me! how vexatious!"
"What is the matter?" asked Djalma, starting from the gloomy silence inwhich he had been plunged for some minutes.
"Alas! my dear prince!" replied Rodin, "the most vulgar and puerileaccident may sometimes cause the greatest inconvenience. I haveforgotten or lost my spectacles. Now, in this twilight, with the verypoor eyesight that years of labor have left me, it will be absolutelyimpossible for me to read this most important letter--and an immediateanswer is expected--most simple and categorical--a yes or a no. Timespresses; it is really most annoying. If," added Rodin, laying greatstress on his words, without looking at Djalma, but so as the princemight remark it; "if only some one would render me the service to readit for me; but there is no one--no--one!"
"Father," said Djalma, obligingly, "shall I read it for you. When I havefinished it, I shall forget what I have read."
"You?" cried Rodin, as if the proposition of the Indian had appearedto him extravagant and dangerous; "it is impossible, prince, for you toread this letter."
"Then excuse my having offered," said Djalma mildly.
"And yet," resumed Rodin, after a moment's reflection, and as ifspeaking to himself, "why not?"
And he added, addressing Djalma: "Would you really be so obliging, mydear prince? I should not have ventured to ask you this service."
So saying, Rodin delivered the letter to Djalma, who read aloud asfollows: "'Your visit this morning to Saint-Dizier House can only beconsidered, from what I hear, as a new act of aggression on your part.
"'Here is the last proposition I have to make. It may be as fruitless asthe step I took yesterday, when I called upon you in the Rue Clovis.
"'After that long and painful explanation, I told you that I would writeto you. I keep my promise, and here is my ultimatum.
"'First of all, a piece of advice. Beware! If you are determined tomaintain so unequal a struggle, you will be exposed even to the hatredof those whom you so foolishly seek to protect. There are a thousandways to ruin you with them, by enlightening them as to your protects. Itwill be proved to them, that you have shared in the plat, which younow pretend to reveal, not from generosity, but from cupidity.'" ThoughDjalma had the delicacy to feel that the least question on the subjectof this letter would be a serious indiscretion, he could not forbearturning his head suddenly towards the Jesuit, as he read the lastpassage.
"Oh, yes! it relates to me. Such as you see me, my dear prince," addedhe, glancing at his shabby clothes, "I am accused of cupidity."
"And who are these people that you protect?"
"Those I protect?" said Rodin feigning some hesitation, as if hehad been embarrassed to find an answer; "who are those I protect?Hem--hem--I will tell you. They are poor devils without resources; goodpeople without a penny, having only a just cause on their side, in alawsuit in which they are engaged. They are threatened with destructionby powerful parties--very powerful parties; but, happily, these latterare known to me, and I am able to unmask them. What else could havebeen? Being myself poor and weak, I range myself naturally on the sideof the poor and weak. But continue, I beg of you."
Djalma resumed: "'You have therefore every-thing to fear if you persistin your hostility, and nothing to gain by taking the side of those whomyou call your friends. They might more justly be termed your dupes, foryour disinterestedness would be inexplicable, were it sincere. It musttherefore conceal some after-thought of cupidity.
"'Well! in that view of the case, we can offer you amplecompensation--with this difference, that your hopes are now entirelyfounded on the probable gratitude of your friends, a very doubtfulchance at the best, whereas our offers will be realized on the instant.To speak clearly, this is what we ask, what we exact of you. This verynight, before twelve, you must have left Paris, and engage not to returnfor six months.'" Djalma could not repress a movement of surprise, andlooked at Rodin.
"Quite natural," said the latter; "the cause of my poor friends would bejudged by that time, and I should be unable to watch over them. You seehow it is, my dear prince," added Rodin, with bitter indignation. "Butplease continue, and excuse me for having interrupted you; though,indeed, such impudence disgusts me."
Djalma continued: "'That we may be certain of your removal from Parisfor six months, you will go to the house of one of our friends inGermany. You will there be received with generous hospitality, butforcibly detained until the expiration of the term.'"
"Yes, yes! a voluntary prison," said Rodin.
"'On these conditions, you will receive a pension of one thousand francsa month, to begin from your departure from Paris, ten thousand francsdown, and twenty thousand at the end of the six months--the whole tobe completely secured to you. Finally, at the end of the six months, wewill place you in a position both honorable and independent.'"
Djalma having stopped short, with involuntary indignation, Rodin said tohim: "Let me beg you to continue, my dear prince. Read to the end,and it will give you some idea of what passes in the midst of ourcivilization."
Djalma resumed: "'You know well enough the course of affairs, and whatwe are, to feel that in providing for your absence, we only wish to getrid of an enemy, not very dangerous, but rather troublesome. Do not beblinded by your first success. The results of your denunciation willbe stifled, because they are calumnious. The judge who received yourevidence will soon repent his odious partiality. You may make what useyou please of this letter. We know what we write, to whom we write, andhow we write. You will receive this letter at three o'clock; if by fouro'clock we have not your full and complete acceptance, written with yourown hand at the bottom of this letter, war must commence between us--andnot from to-morrow, but on the instant.'"
Having finished reading the letter, Djalma looked at Rodin, who said tohim: "Permit me to summon Faringhea."
He rang the bell, and the half-caste appeared. Rodin took the letterfrom the hands of Djalma, tore it into halves, rubbed it between hispalms, so as to make a sort of a ball, and said to the half-caste, ashe returned it to him: "Give this palter to the person who waits forit, and tell him that is my only answer to his shameless and insolentletter; you understand me--this shameless and insolent letter."
"I understand." said the half-caste; and he went out.
"This will perhaps be a dangerous war for you, father, said the Indian,with interest.
"Yes, dear prince, it may be dangerous, but I am not like you; I have nowish to kill my enemies, because they are cowardly and wicked. I fightthem under the shield of the law. Imitate me in this." Then, seeing thatthe countenance of Djalma darkened, he added: "I am wrong. I will adviseyou no more on this subject. Only, let us defer the decision to thejudgment of your noble and motherly protectress. I shall see her tomorrow; if she consents, I will tell you the names of your enemies. Ifnot--not."
"And this woman, this second mother," said Djalma, "is her charactersuch, that I can rely on her judgment?"
"She!" cried Rodin, clasping his hands, and speaking with increasedexcitement. "Why, she is the most noble, the most generous, the mostvaliant being upon earth!--why, if you were really her son, and sheloved you with all the strength of maternal affection, and a case arosein which you had to choose between an act of baseness and death, shewould say to you: 'Die!' though she might herself die with you."
"Oh, noble woman! so was my mother!" cried Djalma, with enthusiasm.
"Yes," resumed Rodin, with growing energy, as he approached the windowconcealed by the shade, towar
ds which he threw an oblique and anxiousglance, "if you would imagine your protectress, think only of courage,uprightness, and loyalty personified. Oh! she has the chivalrousfrankness of the brave man, joined with the high-souled dignity of thewoman, who not only never in her life told a falsehood, never concealeda single thought, but who would rather die than give way to the leastof those sentiments of craft and dissimulation, which are almost forcedupon ordinary women by the situation in which they are placed."
It is difficult to express the admiration which shone upon thecountenance of Djalma, as he listened to this description. His eyessparkled, his cheeks glowed, his heart palpitated with enthusiasm.
"That is well, noble heart!" said Rodin to him, drawing still nearerto the blind; "I love to see your soul sparkle through your eyes, onhearing me speak thus of your unknown protectress. Oh! but she is worthyof the pious adoration which noble hearts and great characters inspire!"
"Oh! I believe you," cried Djalma, with enthusiasm; "my heart is full ofadmiration and also of astonishment, for my mother is no more, and yetsuch a woman exists!"
"Yes, she exists. For the consolation of the afflicted, for the glory ofher sex, she exists. For the honor of truth, and the shame of falsehood,she exists. No lie, no disguise, has ever tainted her loyalty, brilliantand heroic as the sword of a knight. It is but a few days ago that thisnoble woman spoke to me these admirable words, which, in all my life,I shall not forget: 'Sir,' she said, 'if ever I suspect any one that Ilove or esteem--'"
Rodin did not finish. The shade, so violently shaken that the springbroke, was drawn up abruptly, and, to the great astonishment of Djalma,Mdlle. de Cardoville appeared before him. Adrienne's cloak had fallenfrom her shoulders, and in the violence of the movement with which shehad approached the blind, her bonnet, the strings of which were untied,had also fallen. Having left home suddenly, with only just time to throwa mantle over the picturesque and charming costume which she often choseto wear when alone, she appeared so radiant with beauty to Djalma'sdazzled eyes, in the centre of those leaves and flowers, that the Indianbelieved himself under the influence of a dream.
With clasped hands, eyes wide open, the body slightly bent forward, asif in the act of prayer, he stood petrified with admiration, Mdlle. deCardoville, much agitated, and her countenance glowing with emotion,remained on the threshold of the greenhouse, without entering the room.All this had passed in less time than it takes to describe it. Hardlyhad the blind been raised, than Rodin, feigning surprise, exclaimed:"You here, madame?"
"Oh, sir!" said Adrienne, in an agitated voice, "I come to terminatethe phrase which you have commenced. I told you, that when a suspicioncrossed my mind, I uttered it aloud to the person by whom it wasinspired. Well! I confess it: I have failed in this honesty. I came hereas a spy upon you, when your answer to the Abbe d'Aigrigny was giving mea new pledge of your devotion and sincerity. I doubted your uprightnessat the moment when you were bearing testimony to my frankness. Forthe first time in my life, I stooped to deceit; this weakness meritspunishment, and I submit to it--demands reparation, and I make it--callsfor apologies, and I tender them to you." Then turning towards Djalma,she added: "Now, prince, I am no longer mistress of my secret. I am yourrelation, Mdlle. de Cardoville; and I hope you will accept from a sisterthe hospitality that you did not refuse from a mother."
Djalma made no reply. Plunged in ecstatic contemplation of this suddenapparition, which surpassed his wildest and most dazzling visions, hefelt a sort of intoxication, which, paralyzing the power of thought,concentrated all his faculties in the one sense of sight; and just as wesometimes seek in vain to satisfy unquenchable thirst, the burning lookof the Indian sought, as it were, with devouring avidity, to take inall the rare perfections of the young lady. Verily, never had two moredivine types of beauty met face to face. Adrienne and Djalma were thevery ideal of a handsome youth and maiden. There seemed to be somethingprovidential in the meeting of these two natures, so young and sovivacious, so generous and so full of passion, so heroic and so proud,who, before coming into contact, had, singularly enough, each learnedthe moral worth of the other; for if, at the words of Rodin, Djalma hadfelt arise in his heart an admiration, as lively as it was sudden, forthe valiant and generous qualities of that unknown benefactress, whomhe now discovered in Mdlle. de Cardoville, the latter had, in her turn,been moved, affected, almost terrified, by the interview she had justoverheard, in which Djalma had displayed the nobleness of his soul,the delicate goodness of his heart, and the terrible transports ofhis temper. Then she had not been able to repress a movement ofastonishment, almost admiration, at sight of the surprising beauty ofthe prince; and soon after, a strange, painful sentiment, a sortof electric shock, seemed to penetrate all her being, as her eyesencountered Djalma's.
Cruelly agitated, and suffering deeply from this agitation, she triedto dissemble the impression she had received, by addressing Rodin, toapologize for having suspected him. But the obstinate silence of theIndian redoubled the lady's painful embarrassment. Again raising hereyes towards the prince, to invite him to respond to her fraternaloffer, she met his ardent gaze wildly fixed upon her, and she lookedonce more with a mixture of fear, sadness, and wounded pride; then shecongratulated herself on having foreseen the inexorable necessity ofkeeping Djalma at a distance from her, such apprehension did this ardentand impetuous nature already inspire. Wishing to put an end to herpresent painful situation, she said to Rodin, in a low and tremblingvoice, "Pray, sir, speak to the prince; repeat to him my offers. Icannot remain longer." So saying, Adrienne turned, as if to rejoinFlorine. But, at the first step, Djalma sprang towards her with thebound of a tiger, about to be deprived of his prey. Terrified by theexpression of wild excitement which inflamed the Indian's countenance,the young lady drew back with a loud scream.
At this, Djalma remembered himself, and all that had passed. Pale withregret and shame, trembling, dismayed, his eyes streaming with tears,and all his features marked with an expression of the most touchingdespair, he fell at Adrienne's feet, and lifting his clasped handstowards her, said in a soft, supplicating, timid voice: "Oh, remain!remain! do not leave me. I have waited for you so long!" To this prayer,uttered with the timid simplicity of a child, and a resignation whichcontrasted strangely with the savage violence that had so frightenedAdrienne, she replied, as she made a sign to Florine to prepare fortheir departure: "Prince, it is impossible for me to remain longerhere."
"But you will return?" said Djalma, striving to restrain his tears. "Ishall see you again?"
"Oh, no! never--never!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a failing voice.Then, profiting by the stupor into which her answer had thrown Djalma,Adrienne disappeared rapidly behind the plants in the greenhouse.
Florine was hastening to rejoin her mistress, when, just at themoment she passed before Rodin, he said to her in a low, quick voice:"To-morrow we must finish with the hunchback." Florine trembled in everylimb, and, without answering Rodin, disappeared, like her mistress,behind the plants. Broken, overpowered, Djalma remained upon his knees,with his head resting on his breast. His countenance expressed neitherrage nor excitement, but a painful stupor; he wept silently. SeeingRodin approach him, he rose, but with so tremulous a step, that he couldhardly reach the divan, on which he sank down, hiding his face in hishands.
Then Rodin, advancing, said to him in a mild and insinuating tone:"Alas! I feared what has happened. I did not wish you to see yourbenefactress; and if I told you she was old, do you know why, dearprince?"
Djalma, without answering, let his hands fall upon his knees, and turnedtowards Rodin a countenance still bathed in tears.
"I knew that Mdlle. de Cardoville was charming, and at your age it isso easy to fall in love," continued Rodin; "I wished to spare you thatmisfortune, my dear prince, for your beautiful protectress passionatelyloves a handsome young man of this town."
Upon these words, Djalma suddenly pressed both hands to his heart, as ifhe felt a piercing stab, uttered a cry of savage grief, threw b
ack hishead, and fell fainting upon the divan.
Rodin looked at him coldly for some seconds, and then said as he wentaway, brushing his old hat with his elbow,
"Come! it works--it works!"