CHAPTER XXXIX. THE APPOINTMENT.

  The morning after--Dupont's mission to Prince Djalma, the latter waswalking with hasty and impatient step up and down the little saloon,which communicated, as we already know, with the greenhouse from whichAdrienne had entered when she first appeared to him. In remembrance ofthat day, he had chosen to dress himself as on the occasion in question;he wore the same tunic of white cashmere, with a cherry-colored turban,to match with his girdle; his gaiters, of scarlet velvet, embroideredwith silver, displayed the fine form of his leg, and terminated in smallwhite morocco slippers, with red heels. Happiness has so instantaneous,and, as it were, material an influence upon young, lively, and ardentnatures, that Djalma, dejected and despairing only the day before,was no longer like the same person. The pale, transparent gold of hiscomplexion was no longer tarnished by a livid hue. His large eyes, oflate obscured like black diamonds by a humid vapor, now shone with mildradiance in the centre of their pearly setting; his lips, long pale,had recovered their natural color, which was rich and soft as the finepurple flowers of his country.

  Ever and anon, pausing in his hasty walk, he stopped suddenly, anddrew from his bosom a little piece of paper, carefully folded, which hepressed to his lips with enthusiastic ardor. Then, unable to restrainthe expression of his full happiness, he uttered a full and sonorouscry of joy, and with a bound he was in front of the plate-glass whichseparated the saloon from the conservatory, in which he had first seenMdlle. de Cardoville. By a singular power of remembrance, or marvelloushallucination of a mind possessed by a fixed idea, Djalma had oftenseen, or fancied he saw, the adored semblance of Adrienne appear to himthrough this sheet of crystal. The illusion had been so complete, that,with his eyes ardently fixed on the vision he invoked, he had been able,with the aid of a pencil dipped in carmine, to trace with astonishingexactness, the profile of the ideal countenance which the deliriumof his imagination had presented to his view.(42) It was beforethese delicate lines of bright carmine that Djalma now stood in deepcontemplation, after perusing and reperusing, and raising twenty timesto his lips, the letter he had received the night before from the handsof Dupont. Djalma was not alone. Faringhea watched all the movementsof the prince, with a subtle, attentive, and gloomy aspect. Standingrespectfully in a corner of the saloon, the half-caste appeared to beoccupied in unfolding and spreading out Djalma's sash, light, silkyIndian web, the brown ground of which was almost entirely concealed bythe exquisite gold and silver embroidery with which it was overlaid.

  The countenance of the half-caste wore a dark and gloomy expression.He could not deceive himself. The letter from Mdlle. de Cardoville,delivered by Dupont to Djalma, must have been the cause of the delighthe now experienced, for, without doubt, he knew himself beloved. In thatevent, his obstinate silence towards Faringhea, ever since the latterhad entered the saloon, greatly alarmed the half-caste, who could nottell what interpretation to put upon it. The night before, after partingwith Dupont, he had hastened, in a state of anxiety easily understood,to look for the prince, in the hope of ascertaining the effect producedby Mdlle. de Cardoville's letter. But he found the parlor door closed,and when he knocked, he received no answer from within. Then, though thenight was far advanced, he had dispatched a note to Rodin, in which heinformed him of Dupont's visit and its probable intention. Djalma hadindeed passed the night in a tumult of happiness and hope, and a feverof impatience quite impossible to describe. Repairing to his bed-chamberonly towards the morning, he had taken a few moments of repose, and hadthen dressed himself without assistance.

  Many times, but in vain, the half-caste had discreetly knocked atthe door of Djalma's apartment. It was only in the early part of theafternoon that the prince had rung the bell to order his carriage to beready by half-past two. Faringhea having presented himself, the princehad given him the order without looking at him, as he might have done toany other of his servants. Was this suspicion, aversion, or mere absenceof mind on the part of Djalma? Such were the questions which the halfcaste put to himself with growing anguish; for the designs of which hewas the most active and immediate instrument might all be ruined by theleast suspicion in the prince.

  "Oh! the hours--the hours--how slow they are!" cried the young Indian,suddenly, in a low and trembling voice.

  "The day before yesterday, my lord, you said the hours were very long,"observed Faringhea, as he drew near Djalma in order to attract hisattention. Seeing that he did not succeed in this he advanced a fewsteps nearer, and resumed: "Your joy seems very great, my lord; tell thecause of it to your poor and faithful servant, that he also may rejoicewith you."

  If he heard the words, Djalma did not pay any attention to them. He madeno answer, and his large black eyes gazed upon vacancy. He seemed tosmile admiringly upon some enchanting vision, and he folded his twohands upon his bosom, in the attitude which his countrymen assume atthe hour of prayer. After some instants of contemplation, he said: "Whato'clock is it?"--but he asked this question of himself, rather than ofany third person.

  "It will soon be two o'clock, my lord," said Faringhea.

  Having heard this answer, Djalma seated himself, and hid his face in hishands, as if completely absorbed in some ineffable meditation. Urged onby his growing anxiety, and wishing at any cost to attract the attentionof Djalma, Faringhea approached still nearer to him, and, almost certainof the effect of the words he was about to utter, said to him in a slowand emphatic voice: "My lord, I am sure that you owe the happiness whichnow transports you to Mdlle. de Cardoville."

  Hardly had this name been pronounced, than Djalma started from hischair, looked the half-breed full in the face, and exclaimed, as if onlyjust aware of his presence, "Faringhea! you here!--what is the matter?"

  "Your faithful servant shares in your joy, my lord."

  "What joy?"

  "That which the letter of Mdlle. de Cardoville has occasioned, my lord."

  Djalma returned no answer, but his eye shone with so much serenehappiness, that the half-caste recovered from his apprehensions. Nocloud of doubt or suspicion obscured the radiant features of the prince.After a few moments of silence, Djalma fixed upon the half-caste a lookhalf-veiled with a tear of joy, and said to him, with the expression ofone whose heart overflows with love and happiness: "Oh! such delight isgood--great--like heaven!--for it is heaven which--"

  "You deserve this happiness, my lord, after so many sufferings."

  "What sufferings?--Oh! yes. I formerly suffered at Java; but that wasyears ago."

  "My lord, this great good fortune does not astonish me. What have Ialways told you? Do not despair; feign a violent passion for some otherwoman, and then this proud young lady--"

  At these words Djalma looked at the half-caste with so piercing aglance, that the latter stopped short; but the prince said to him withaffectionate goodness, "Go on! I listen."

  Then, leaning his chin upon his hand, and his elbow on his knee, hegazed so intently on Faringhea, and yet with such unutterable mildness,that even that iron soul was touched for a moment with a slight feelingof remorse.

  "I was saying, my lord," he resumed, "that by following the counsels ofyour faithful slave, who persuaded you to feign a passionate love foranother woman, you have brought the proud Mdlle. de Cardoville to cometo you. Did I not tell you it would be so?"

  "Yes, you did tell me so," answered Djalma, still maintaining the sameposition, and examining the half-caste with the same fixed and mildattention.

  The surprise of Faringhea increased; generally, the prince, withouttreating him with the least harshness, preserved the somewhat distantand imperious manners of their common country, and he had never beforespoken to him with such extreme mildness. Knowing all the evil hehad done the prince, and suspicious as the wicked must ever be, thehalf-caste thought for a moment, that his master's apparent kindnessmight conceal a snare. He continued, therefore, with less assurance,"Believe me, my lord, this day, if you do but know how to profit by youradvantages, will console you for all your troubles, which h
ave indeedbeen great--for only yesterday, though you were generous enough toforget it, only yesterday you suffered cruelly--but you were not alonein your sufferings. This proud young lady suffered also!"

  "Do you think so?" said Djalma.

  "Oh! it is quite sure, my lord. What must she not have felt, when shesaw you at the theatre with another woman!--If she loved you only alittle, she must have been deeply wounded in her self-esteem; if sheloved you with passion, she must have been struck to the heart. Atlength, you see, wearied out with suffering, she has come to you."

  "So that, any way, she must have suffered--and that does not move yourpity?" said Djalma, in a constrained, but still very mild voice.

  "Before thinking of others, my lord, I think of your distresses; andthey touch me too nearly to leave me any pity for other woes," addedFaringhea hypocritically, so greatly had the influence of Rodin alreadymodified the character of the Phansegar.

  "It is strange!" said Djalma, speaking to himself, as he viewed the halfcaste with a glance still kind but piercing.

  "What is strange, my lord?"

  "Nothing. But tell me, since your advice has hitherto prospered so well,what think you of the future?"

  "Of the future, my lord?"

  "Yes; in an hour I shall be with Mdlle. de Cardoville."

  "That is a serious matter, my lord. The whole future will depend uponthis interview."

  "That is what I was just thinking."

  "Believe me, my lord, women never love any so well, as the bold man whospares them the embarrassment of a refusal."

  "Explain more fully."

  "Well, my lord, they despise the timid and languishing lover, who askshumbly for what he might take by force."

  "But to-day I shall meet Mdlle. de Cardoville for the first time."

  "You have met her a thousand times in your dreams, my lord; and dependupon it, she has seen you also in her dreams, since she loves you. Everyone of your amorous thoughts has found an echo in her heart. All yourardent adorations have been responded to by her. Love has not twolanguages, and, without meeting, you have said all that you had to sayto each other. Now, it is for you to act as her master, and she will beyours entirely."

  "It is strange--very strange!" said Djalma, a second time, withoutremoving his eyes from Faringhea's face.

  Mistaking the sense which the prince attached to these words, the halfcaste resumed: "Believe me, my lord, however strange it may appear, thisis the wisest course. Remember the past. Was it by playing the part of atimid lover that you have brought to your feet this proud young lady,my lord? No, it was by pretending to despise her, in favor of anotherwoman. Therefore, let us have no weakness. The lion does not woo likethe poor turtle-dove. What cares the sultan of the desert for a fewplaintive howls from the lioness, who is more pleased than angry at hisrude and wild caresses? Soon submissive, fearful and happy, she followsin the track of her master. Believe me, my lord--try everything--dareeverything--and to-day you will become the adored sultan of this younglady, whose beauty all Paris admires."

  After some minutes' silence, Djalma, shaking his head with an expressionof tender pity, said to the half-caste, in his mild, sonorous voice:"Why betray me thus? Why advise me thus wickedly to use violence,terror, and surprise, towards an angel of purity, whom I respect asmy mother? Is it not enough for you to have been so long devoted to myenemies, whose hatred has followed me from Java?"

  Had Djalma sprung upon the half-caste with bloodshot eye, menacingbrow, and lifted poniard, the latter would have been less surprised,and perhaps less frightened, than when he heard the prince speak of histreachery in this tone of mild reproach.

  He drew back hastily, as if about to stand on his guard. But Djalmaresumed, with the same gentleness, "Fear nothing. Yesterday I shouldhave killed you! But to-day happy love renders me too just, too mercifulfor that. I pity you, without any feeling of bitterness--for you musthave been very unhappy, or you could not have become so wicked."

  "My lord!" said the half-caste, with growing amazement.

  "Yes, you must have suffered much, and met with little mercy, poorcreature, to have become so merciless, in your hate, and proof againstthe sight of a happiness like mine. When I listened to you just now,and saw the sad perseverance of your hatred, I felt the deepestcommiseration for you."

  "I do not know, my lord--but--" stammered the half-caste, and was unableto find words to proceed.

  "Come, now--what harm have I ever done you?"

  "None, my lord," answered Faringhea.

  "Then why do you hate me thus? why pursue me with so much animosity? Wasit not enough to give me the perfidious counsel to feign a shameful lovefor the young girl that was brought hither, and who quitted the housedisgusted at the miserable part she was to play?"

  "Your feigned love for that young girl, my lord," replied Faringhea,gradually recovering his presence of mind, "conquered the coldness of--"

  "Do not say that," resumed the prince, interrupting him with the samemildness. "If I enjoy this happiness, which makes me compassionatetowards you, and raises me above myself, it is because Mdlle deCardoville now knows that I have never for a moment ceased to love heras she ought to be loved, with adoration and reverence. It was yourintention to have parted us forever, and you had nearly succeeded."

  "If you think this of me, my lord, you must look upon me as your mostmortal enemy."

  "Fear nothing, I tell you. I have no right to blame you. In the madnessof my grief, I listened to you and followed your advice. I was not onlyyour dupe, but your accomplice. Only confess that, when you saw me atyour mercy, dejected, crushed, despairing, it was cruel in you to advisethe course that might have been most fatal to me."

  "The ardor of my zeal may have deceived me, my lord."

  "I am willing to believe it. And yet again to-day there were the sameevil counsels. You had no more pity for my happiness than for my sorrow.The rapture of my heart inspires you with only one desire--that ofchanging this rapture into despair."

  "I, my lord!"

  "Yes, you. It was your intention to ruin me--to dishonor me forever inthe eyes of Mdlle. de Cardoville. Now, tell me--why this furious hate?what have I done to you?"

  "You misjudge me, my lord--and--"

  "Listen to me. I do not wish you to be any longer wicked andtreacherous. I wish to make you good. In our country, they charmserpents, and tame the wildest tigers. You are a man, with a mind toreason, a heart to love, and I will tame you too by gentleness. This dayhas bestowed on me divine happiness; you shall have good cause to blessthis day. What can I do for you? what would you have--gold? You shallhave it. Do you desire more than gold? Do you desire a friend, toconsole you for the sorrows that made you wicked, and to teach you tobe good? Though a king's son, I will be that friend--in spite of theevil--ay, because of the evil you have done me. Yes; I will be yoursincere friend, and it shall be my delight to say to myself: 'The dayon which I learned that my angel loved me, my happiness was greatindeed--for, in the morning, I had an implacable enemy, and, ere night,his hatred was changed to friendship.' Believe me, Faringhea, miserymakes crime, but happiness produces virtue. Be happy!"

  At this moment the clock struck two. The prince started. It was time togo on his visit to Adrienne. The handsome countenance of Djalma, doublyembellished by the mild, ineffable expression with which it had beenanimated whilst he was talking to the half-caste, now seemed illuminedwith almost divine radiance.

  Approaching Faringhea, he extended his hand with the utmost, grace andcourtesy, saying to him, "Your hand!"

  The half-caste, whose brow was bathed with a cold sweat, whosecountenance was pale and agitated, seemed to hesitate for an instant;then, overawed, conquered, fascinated, he offered his trembling hand tothe prince, who pressed it, and said to him, in their country's fashion,"You have laid your hand honestly in a friend's; this hand shall neverbe closed against you. Faringhea, farewell! I now feel myself moreworthy to kneel before my angel."

  And Djalma went out, on his way to the appo
intment with Adrienne. Inspite of his ferocity, in spite of the pitiless hate he bore to thewhole human race, the dark sectary of Bowanee was staggered by the nobleand clement words of Djalma, and said to himself, with terror, "I havetaken his hand. He is now sacred for me."

  Then, after a moment's silence, a thought occurred to him, and heexclaimed, "Yes--but he will not be sacred for him who, according to theanswer of last night, waits for him at the door of the house."

  So saying, the half-caste hastened into the next room, which looked uponthe street, and, raising a corner of the curtain, muttered anxiously tohimself, "The carriage moves off--the man approaches. Perdition! it isgone and I see no more."