CHAPTER III.
THE RESOLUTION.
"I am listening," said Louis, leaning forward as if to hear the better.
Valentine resumed with a melancholy smile.
"We have now reached the 1st of January, 1835," said he; "with the lastvibration of midnight your existence as a gentleman has come to an end.From this time you are about to commence a life of trials and struggles;in a word, you are about to become a man!"
The Count gave him an inquiring glance.
"I will explain myself," Valentine continued; "but in order to do that,you must, in the first place, allow me, in a few words, to recall yourhistory to you."
"Surely, I am well enough acquainted with that," interrupted the Count,in a tone that displayed impatience.
"Well, perhaps you are; but, at all events, listen to my version of it;if I err, put me right."
"Follow your own humour," the Count replied, sinking back into his chairwith the air of a man whom politeness obliges to listen to a tiresomediscourse.
Though he saw it, Valentine appeared to take no notice of this movementon the part of his foster brother. He relit his cigar, which he hadallowed to go out, patted the dog, whose great head was lying upon hisknees, and began, as if convinced that Louis gave him the most profoundattention.
"Your history is that of almost every man of your rank," said he. "Yourancestors, whose name can be traced to the Crusades, left you at yourbirth a noble title, and a hundred thousand francs a year. Rich, withouthaving had occasion to employ your faculties to gain your fortune,and consequently ignorant of the real value of money, you spent itheedlessly, believing it to be inexhaustible. This is just what hashappened; only, one day, when you least expected it, the hideous spectreof ruin rose up suddenly before you, and you had a glimpse of want,that is, of the necessity for labour; and then you drew back terrified,declaring there was no refuge but in death."
"All that is perfectly true," the Count interrupted; "but you forget tomention, that before forming this last resolution, I took care to putmy affairs in order, and to pay all my creditors. I then became my ownmaster, and had a right to dispose of my life as I thought fit."
"Not at all. And it is this which your education as a gentleman hasprevented you from understanding. Your life is not your own; it isa loan which God has made you. It is, consequently, nothing but anexpectation, a _waiting_, a passage: for this reason it is short,but the profit of it is due to humanity. Every man who wastes thefaculties which he holds from God in orgies and debaucheries, commits arobbery upon the great human family. Remember that we are all mutuallyresponsible for one another, and that we ought to employ our facultiesfor the advantage of the whole."
"For Heaven's sake, brother, a truce to your sermons! Such theories,more or less paradoxical, may succeed with certain people, but----"
"Brother," Valentine interrupted, "do not speak so. In spite ofyourself, your pride of race dictates words which you will ere longregret. Certain people! there you have let slip the great word. Oh,Louis, Louis! how many things you have yet to learn! But that we mayknow what we are about, reckoning all your resources, how much have youleft?"
"Oh, I scarcely know! A pitiful sum."
"Well, but how much?"
"Good Heavens! some forty thousand francs, I suppose, at most, which mayamount to sixty thousand by the sale of these luxurious trifles," theCount said carelessly.
Valentine started up in his chair.
"Sixty thousand francs!" he cried; "and you are in despair! and havemade up your mind to die! Senseless fellow! why, these sixty thousandfrancs, well employed, are a fortune! they will enable you to find thewoman you love! How many poor devils would fancy themselves rich withsuch a sum!"
"What do you mean to do, then?"
"You shall see. What is the name of the lady you are in love with?"
"Dona Rosario del Valle."
"Very well. She has, you say, gone to America?"
"Ten days ago; but I, in justice, must observe to you, that DonaRosario, whom you do not know, is a noble and amiable girl, who hasnever lent an ear to one of my flatteries, or given favourable heed tothe ruinous extravagances which I committed to please her."
"Ah, that is very possible! why, then, should I seek to rob you of thissweet illusion? Only it makes me the more puzzled to perceive how, underthese circumstances, you could manage to melt your fortune, which wasconsiderable, like a lump of butter in the sun."
"Here! read this note from my broker."
"Oh!" said Valentine, pushing back the paper; "you have been dabblingon the Stock Exchange, have you! Everything is now easily explained, mypoor pigeon; the kites have plucked you nicely! Well, brother, you musttake your revenge."
"Oh, I ask nothing better!" said the young man, knitting his brows.
"We are of the same age; my mother's milk nourished us both; in theeyes of God we are brothers! I will make a man of you! I will helpyou to put on that armour of brass which will render you invincible.Whilst you, protected by your name and your fortune, allowed life toglide luxuriously away, only plucking its flowers as it passed, I, apoor wretch wandering over the rough pavement of Paris, carried on agigantic struggle to obtain a mere existence; a struggle of every hourand every minute, where the victory for me was a morsel of bread, andexperience most dearly bought; for often, when I held horses, soldtheatre checks, or acted clown to a mountebank--in fact, when I wentthrough the thousand impossible shifts of the Bohemian, depression anddiscouragement nearly choked me; often and often have I felt my burningbrow and throbbing temples clasped in the pinching vice of want; but Iresisted, I girded myself up against adversity; never did I allow myselfto be conquered, although I left upon the thorns of my rugged path manyof the rags of my most fondly-cherished illusions; while my heart,writhing with despair, has bled from twenty wounds at once! Courage,Louis! henceforth there will be two of us to fight the battle! You shallbe the head to conceive, I the arm to execute; you the intelligence, Ithe strength! Now the struggle will be equal, for we will sustain oneanother. Trust in me, my brother; a day will come when success willcrown our efforts!"
"I can fully appreciate your devotion, and I accept it. Am I not, atpresent, your property? Entertain no fear of my resisting you. But Icannot help telling you that I fear all my attempts will be in vain, andthat we shall be forced, sooner or later, to fall back upon that lastmeans which you now prevent me having recourse to."
"Oh, thou man of little faith!" Valentine said, cheerfully; "on the roadwhich we are about to take, fortune will be our slave!"
Louis could not repress a smile.
"We must, at all events, depend upon the aid of chance in what we areabout to undertake," he said.
"Chance! chance is the hope of fools; the strong man commands it."
"Well, but what do you mean to do?"
"The lady you love is in America, is she not?"
"I have already told you so several times."
"Very well, then, we must go thither."
"But I do not know even in what part of America she resides."
"Of what consequence is that? The New World is the country of gold--thetrue region of adventurers! We shall retrieve our fortunes whilstsearching for her; and is that so disagreeable a thing? Tell me--thislady was born somewhere?"
"She is a Chilian."
"Good! she has gone back to Chili, then; and it is there we shall findher."
Louis looked at his foster brother for a moment, with a species ofrespectful admiration.
"What! do you seriously mean that you will do this, brother?" he said,in an agitated voice.
"Without hesitation."
"Abandon the military career which offers you so many chances ofsuccess? I know that in three months you will be an officer."
"I have ceased to be a soldier since the morning; I have found asubstitute."
"Oh, that is not possible!"
"Ay, but it is done."
"But your old mother, my nurse, whose only support you are!"
"Out of what you have left we will give her a few thousand francs,which, joined to my pension, will suffice for her to live on till wecome back."
"Oh," said the young man, "I cannot accept of such a sacrifice--myhonour forbids it!"
"Unfortunately, brother," Valentine said, in a tone which silenced theCount, "you have it not in your power to prevent it. In acting as Ipropose to do I am only discharging a sacred duty."
"I do not understand you."
"What is the use of explaining it to you?"
"I insist."
"Very good; and, perhaps, it will be better. Listen:--When, afterhaving nursed you, my mother restored you to your family, my father fellsick, and died at the end of an illness of eight months, leaving mymother and myself in the greatest want; the little we possessed had beenspent in medicines, and in paying the doctor for his visits. We ought tohave had recourse to your family, who would, no doubt, have relieved us;but my mother would never consent to it. 'The Count de Prebois-Crancehas done as much as he ought,' she remarked, 'he shall not be troubledany more.'"
"She was wrong," said Louis.
"I know she was," Valentine replied. "In the meantime, hunger soon beganto be felt. It was then I undertook all those impossible trades of whichI just now spoke to you. One day, as I was carrying my cap round in thePlace du Trone, after swallowing sabres and eating fire, to the greatdelight of the crowd, I found myself face to face with an officer of theChasseurs d'Afrique, who looked at me with an air of pity and kindnessthat melted my heart within me. He led me away with him, made me relatemy history, and insisted upon being conducted to the shed where I andmy mother lived. At the sight of our misery the old soldier was muchaffected; a tear, which he could not restrain, flowed silently down hissunburnt cheek. Louis, that officer was your father."
"My noble and good father!" the Count exclaimed, pressing his fosterbrother's hand.
"Yes! yes, noble and good! he secured my mother a little annuity whichenables her to live, and took me into his own regiment. Two years ago,during the last expedition against the Rey of Constantine, your fatherwas struck by a bullet in his chest, and died at the end of two hours,calling upon his son."
"Yes," the young man said, with tears in his eyes, "I know he did."
"But what you do not know, Louis, is, that at the point of death yourfather turned towards me--for, from the moment he had received his woundI had never left him."
Louis again silently pressed the hand of Valentine, whilst the lattercontinued--
"'Valentine,' he said to me, in a faint voice, broken by the rattle ofdeath, for the mortal agony had commenced, 'my son is left alone, andwithout experience; he has nobody but you, his foster brother. Watchover him--never abandon him! May I depend upon your promise? it willmitigate the pain of dying.' I knelt down beside him, and respectfullyseizing the hand he held out to me, exclaimed--'Die in peace! in thehour of adversity I will be always by the side of your Louis. Two tearsof joy at that awful hour dropped from your father's eyes; he said, in afaltering voice--'God has heard your oath and murmuring your name, andclasping my hand, he expired. Louis, I owe to your father the comfortmy mother enjoys; I owe to your father the feelings that make me a man,and this cross which glitters on my breast. Can you not now comprehend,then, why I have spoken to you as I have done? While you held yourcourse in your strength, I kept aloof; but now that the hour has arrivedfor accomplishing my vow, no human power can prevent me from doing so."
The two young men were silent for a moment, and then Louis, laying hisface on the soldier's honest chest, said, with a burst of tears--
"When shall we set out, brother?"
The latter looked at him earnestly--
"You are fully resolved to commence a new life?"
"Entirely!" Louis replied, in a firm tone.
"Do you leave no regrets behind you?"
"None."
"You are ready to pass bravely through all the trials to which I mayexpose you?"
"I am."
"That is well, brother! it is thus I wish you to be. We will set out assoon as we have settled the balance of your past life. You must enteron the new existence I am about to open to you quite free from clogs orremembrances."
* * * * *
On the 2nd of February, 1835, a packet boat belonging to theTrans-Atlantic Company left Havre, directing its course towardsValparaiso. On board this vessel, as passengers, were the Count dePrebois-Crance, Valentine Guillois his foster brother, and Caesar theirNewfoundland dog--Caesar, the only friend who had remained faithful tothem, and whom they could not think of leaving behind. Upon the quaya woman of about sixty years of age, her face bathed in tears, stoodwith her eyes intently fixed upon the vessel as long as it remained insight. When it had disappeared below the horizon, she cast a despondingglance around her, and with a heavy heart bent her steps towards a housesituated at a small distance from the beach, where she remained threedays.
"Do what is right, happen what may!" she said, in a voice stifled bygrief.
This woman was the mother of Valentine Guillois. She was the most to bepitied, for she was left alone!