In Search of a Son

  CHAPTER XIX.

  THE FIXED IDEA.

  For some days Monsieur Roger made no allusion to the secret which nowfilled his soul, nor to that strange idea which filled his whole brain.He retired into himself, thinking that this folly which had suddenlycome to him would go away as suddenly, and again feeling, in spite ofall, the certain loss of a dream which had made him so happy. And still,the more he looked at Paul, which he did only on the sly, not daring tolook him in the face, as formerly, for fear of betraying himself, themore and more evident and real did the mysterious resemblance appear tohim. The Dalize family had remarked the absence of mind and thewandering look of Monsieur Roger. Still, they thought that that wassimply because something had reminded him of his sorrows. Even Paulcould not help taking notice of the new attitude which Monsieur Rogerhad taken up with regard to him. The kindness and sympathy whichMonsieur Roger had shown him in the first few days of his acquaintancehad greatly touched the motherless boy, whose father was far away on theother side of the ocean.

  Now, for some days, it had seemed to Paul that Monsieur Roger sought toavoid his presence,--he neither spoke to him nor looked at him. Onceonly Paul had surprised a look which Monsieur Roger had given him, andin this sad look he had discovered an affection so profound that it feltto him almost like a paternal caress. Yet, Paul was forced toacknowledge that his father had never looked at him in that way.

  One evening, after dinner, Monsieur Dalize led his friend Roger into thegarden in front of the house, and said to him,--

  "Roger, my dear friend, you have made us uneasy for some days. Now weare alone. What is the matter with you?"

  "Why, nothing is the matter with me," said Monsieur Roger, surprised atthe question.

  "Why, certainly, something is the matter. What has happened to you?"

  "I don't understand what you mean?"

  "Roger, you oblige me to tread on delicate ground,--to ask you a painfulquestion."

  "Speak."

  "Well, my dear friend, the change which we have noticed in you for sometime is not my fault, is it? Or does it come from the surroundings inwhich you find yourself placed?"

  "I don't understand."

  "I ask if your grief--without your knowing it, perhaps--may not havebeen revived by the happiness which reigns around you? Perhaps thepresence of these children, who nevertheless love you already almost asmuch as they do me, awakes in your heart a terrible remembrance andcruel regrets?"

  "No, no," cried Monsieur Roger; "that is not true. But why do you ask mesuch questions?"

  "Because, my dear friend, you are mentally ill, and I wish to cure you."

  "Why, no, I am not. I am not ill either mentally or physically, Iswear."

  "Don't swear," said Monsieur Dalize; "and do me the kindness to hideyourself for some moments behind this clump of trees. I have witnesseswho will convince you that I still have good eyes."

  Monsieur Dalize got up, opened the door of the vestibule, and calledMiette. She ran out gayly.

  "What do you wish, papa?" she said.

  "I want to see our friend Roger. Is he not in the parlor with you?"

  "No; he always goes his own way. He does not talk to us any longer; andhe has had a very funny, sad look for some time. He is not the same atall."

  "Very well, my child," said Monsieur Dalize, interrupting the littlegirl. "Go back to the parlor and send me your brother."

  Albert soon arrived.

  "You wanted me, father?" said he.

  "Yes; I want you to repeat to me what you told your mother thismorning."

  Albert thought for a moment; then he said,--

  "About Monsieur Roger?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I told mamma that for some time back I have heard Monsieur Rogerwalking all night in his room; only this evening I heard him crying."

  "That is all that I wish to know, my child. You can go back again."

  When Monsieur Dalize was alone, he walked around the clump of trees torejoin Roger.

  "Well," said he, softly, "you have heard. Everybody has noticed yourgrief. Won't you tell me now what it is that you are suffering, or whatsecret is torturing you?"

  "Yes, I will confide this secret to you," said Monsieur Roger, "becauseyou will understand me, and you will not laugh at your unhappy friend."And Monsieur Roger told the whole truth to his friend Dalize. He toldhim what a singular fixed idea had possessed his brain; he told him ofthe strange resemblance which he thought he had discovered between thefeatures of his dear and regretted wife and the face of Paul Solange.

  Monsieur Dalize let his friend pour out his soul to him. He said only,with pitying affection, when Monsieur Roger had finished,--

  "My poor friend! it is a dream that is very near insanity."

  "Alas! that is what I tell myself; and still----"

  "And still?" repeated Monsieur Dalize. "You still doubt? Come with me."

  He re-entered the chateau with Roger. When he reached the parlor he wentstraight to Paul Solange.

  "Paul," said he, "to-morrow is the mail, and I shall write to yourfather."

  "Ah, sir," answered Paul, "I will give you my letter; maybe you can putit in yours."

  Monsieur Dalize seemed to be trying to think of something.

  "How long a time is it," said he, "since I have had the pleasure ofseeing your excellent father?"

  "Two years, sir; but he will surely come to France this winter."

  Monsieur Dalize looked at Roger; then he whispered in his ear,--

  "You have heard."