LIBRARY OF THE WORLD'S BEST MYSTERY AND DETECTIVE STORIES

EDITED BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE

One Hundred and One Tales of MysteryBy Famous Authors of East and West

In Six Volumes

New YorkThe Review of Reviews Company

1907

AMERICAN :: FRENCH, ITALIAN, ETC. ENGLISH: SCOTCH :: GERMAN, RUSSIAN, ETC. ENGLISH: IRISH :: ORIENTAL: MODERN MAGIC

MAUPASSANT VOLTAIREMILLE ALARÇONADAM CAPUANAERCKMANN-CHATRIAN APULEIUSBALZAC PLINY, THE YOUNGER

[Illustration: "Through a Mist in the Depths of the Looking-Glass. "To illustrate "The Horla, " by Guy de Maupassant]

_Table of Contents_

HENRI RENÉ ALBERT GUY DE MAUPASSANT (1850-93). The Necklace The Man with the Pale Eyes An Uncomfortable Bed Ghosts Fear The Confession The Horla

PIERRE MILLE. The Miracle of Zobéide

VILLIERS DE L'ISLE ADAM. The Torture by Hope

ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN (1822-99)--(1826-90). The Owl's Ear The Invisible Eye The Waters of Death

HONORE DE BALZAC (1799-1850). Melmoth Reconciled The Conscript

JEAN FRANCOIS MARIE AROUET DE VOLTAIRE (1694-1778). Zadig the Babylonian

PEDRO DE ALARÇON. The Nail

LUIGI CAPUANA (1839-00). The Deposition

LUCIUS APULEIUS (Second Century). The Adventure of the Three Robbers

PLINY, THE YOUNGER (First Century). Letter to Sura

_French--Italian--Spanish--Latin Mystery Stories_

HENRI RENÉ ALBERT GUY DE MAUPASSANT

_The Necklace_

She was one of those pretty and charming girls who are sometimes, as ifby a mistake of destiny, born in a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of being known, understood, loved, wedded, byany rich and distinguished man; and she let herself be married to alittle clerk at the Ministry of Public Instruction. 

She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was asunhappy as though she had really fallen from her proper station; sincewith women there is neither caste nor rank; and beauty, grace, andcharm act instead of family and birth. Natural fineness, instinct forwhat is elegant, suppleness of wit, are the sole hierarchy, and makefrom women of the people the equals of the very greatest ladies. 

She suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born for all the delicaciesand all the luxuries. She suffered from the poverty of her dwelling, from the wretched look of the walls, from the worn-out chairs, from theugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman ofher rank would never even have been conscious, tortured her and madeher angry. The sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humblehousework aroused in her regrets which were despairing, and distracteddreams. She thought of the silent antechambers hung with Orientaltapestry, lit by tall bronze candelabra, and of the two great footmenin knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs, made drowsy by theheavy warmth of the hot-air stove. She thought of the long_salons_ fatted up with ancient silk, of the delicate furniturecarrying priceless curiosities, and of the coquettish perfumed boudoirsmade for talks at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men famousand sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they alldesire. 

When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with atablecloth three days old, opposite her husband, who uncovered the souptureen and declared with an enchanted air, "Ah, the good_pot-au-feu_! I don't know anything better than that, " she thoughtof dainty dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry which peopled thewalls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in themidst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served onmarvelous plates, and of the whispered gallantries which you listen towith a sphinx-like smile, while you are eating the pink flesh of atrout or the wings of a quail. 

She had no dresses, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that;she felt made for that. She would so have liked to please, to beenvied, to be charming, to be sought after. 

She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, andwhom she did not like to go and see any more, because she suffered somuch when she came back. 

But, one evening, her husband returned home with a triumphant air, andholding a large envelope in his hand. 

"There, " said he, "here is something for you. "

She tore the paper sharply, and drew out a printed card which borethese words:

"The Minister of Public Instruction and Mme. Georges Ramponneau requestthe honor of M. And Mme. Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministryon Monday evening, January 18th. "

Instead of being delighted, as her husband hoped, she threw theinvitation on the table with disdain, murmuring:

"What do you want me to do with that?"

"But, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and thisis such a fine opportunity. I had awful trouble to get it. Everyonewants to go; it is very select, and they are not giving manyinvitations to clerks. The whole official world will be there. "

She looked at him with an irritated eye, and she said, impatiently:

"And what do you want me to put on my back?"

He had not thought of that; he stammered:

"Why, the dress you go to the theater in. It looks very well, to me. "

He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was crying. Two greattears descended slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the cornersof her mouth. He stuttered:

"What's the matter? What's the matter?"

But, by a violent effort, she had conquered her grief, and she replied, with a calm voice, while she wiped her wet cheeks:

"Nothing. Only I have no dress, and therefore I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than I. "

He was in despair. He resumed:

"Come, let us see, Mathilde. How much would it cost, a suitable dress, which you could use on other occasions, something very simple?"

She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wonderingalso what sum she could ask without drawing on herself an immediaterefusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk. 

Finally, she replied, hesitatingly:

"I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundredfrancs. "

He had grown a little pale, because he was laying aside just thatamount to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting next summeron the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot larksdown there of a Sunday. 

But he said:

"All right. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have apretty dress. "

The day of the ball drew near, and Mme. Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her dress was ready, however. Her husband said to her oneevening:

"What is the matter? Come, you've been so queer these last three days. "

And she answered:

"It annoys me not to have a single jewel, not a single stone, nothingto put on. I shall look like distress. I should almost rather not go atall. "

He resumed:

"You might wear natural flowers. It's very stylish at this time of theyear. For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses. "

She was not convinced. 

"No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among otherwomen who are rich. "

But her husband cried:

"How stupid you are! Go look up your friend Mme. Forestier, and ask herto lend you some jewels. You're quite thick enough with her to dothat. "

She uttered a cry of joy:

"It's true. I never thought of it. "

The next day she went to her friend and told of her distress. 

Mme. Forestier went to a wardrobe with a glass door, took out a largejewel box, brought it back, opened it, and said to Mme. Loisel:

"Choose, my dear. "

She saw first of all some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then aVenetian cross, gold and precious stones of admirable workmanship. Shetried on the ornaments before the glass, hesitated, could not make upher mind to part with them, to give them back. She kept asking:

"Haven't you any more?"

"Why, yes. Look. I don't know what you like. "

All of a sudden she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb necklaceof diamonds, and her heart began to beat with an immoderate desire. Herhands trembled as she took it. She fastened it around her throat, outside her high-necked dress, and remained lost in ecstasy at thesight of herself. 

Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anguish:

"Can you lend me that, only that?"

"Why, yes, certainly. "

She sprang upon the neck of her friend, kissed her passionately, thenfled with her treasure. 

 * * * * *

The day of the ball arrived. Mme. Loisel made a great success. She wasprettier than them all, elegant, gracious, smiling, and crazy with joy. All the men looked at her, asked her name, endeavored to be introduced. All the attachés of the Cabinet wanted to waltz with her. She wasremarked by the minister himself. 

She danced with intoxication, with passion, made drunk by pleasure, forgetting all, in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of hersuccess, in a sort of cloud of happiness composed of all this homage, of all this admiration, of all these awakened desires, and of thatsense of complete victory which is so sweet to woman's heart. 

She went away about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had beensleeping since midnight, in a little deserted anteroom, with threeother gentlemen whose wives were having a very good time. 

He threw over her shoulders the wraps which he had brought, modestwraps of common life, whose poverty contrasted with the elegance of theball dress. She felt this and wanted to escape so as not to be remarkedby the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly furs. 

Loisel held her back. 

"Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will go and call a cab. "

But she did not listen to him, and rapidly descended the stairs. Whenthey were in the street they did not find a carriage; and they began tolook for one, shouting after the cabmen whom they saw passing by at adistance. 

They went down toward the Seine, in despair, shivering with cold. Atlast they found on the quay one of those ancient noctambulent coupéswhich, exactly as if they were ashamed to show their misery during theday, are never seen round Paris until after nightfall. 

It took them to their door in the Rue des Martyrs, and once more, sadly, they climbed up homeward. All was ended for her. And as to him, he reflected that he must be at the Ministry at ten o'clock. 

She removed the wraps, which covered her shoulders, before the glass, so as once more to see herself in all her glory. But suddenly sheuttered a cry. She had no longer the necklace around her neck!

Her husband, already half undressed, demanded:

"What is the matter with you?"

She turned madly toward him:

"I have--I have--I've lost Mme. Forestier's necklace. "

He stood up, distracted. 

"What!--how?--Impossible!"

And they looked in the folds of her dress, in the folds of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere. They did not find it. 

He asked:

"You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?"

"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the palace. "

"But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. Itmust be in the cab. "

"Yes. Probably. Did you take his number?"

"No. And you, didn't you notice it?"

"No. "

They looked, thunderstruck, at one another. At last Loisel put on hisclothes. 

"I shall go back on foot, " said he, "over the whole route which we havetaken, to see if I can't find it. "

And he went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, withoutstrength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without fire, without a thought. 

Her husband came back about seven o'clock. He had found nothing. 

He went to Police Headquarters, to the newspaper offices, to offer areward; he went to the cab companies--everywhere, in fact, whither hewas urged by the least suspicion of hope. 

She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before thisterrible calamity. 

Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face; he had discoverednothing. 

"You must write to your friend, " said he, "that you have broken theclasp of her necklace and that you are having it mended. That will giveus time to turn round. "

She wrote at his dictation. 

At the end of a week they had lost all hope. 

And Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:

"We must consider how to replace that ornament. "

The next day they took the box which had contained it, and they went tothe jeweler whose name was found within. He consulted his books. 

"It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply havefurnished the case. "

Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace likethe other, consulting their memories, sick both of them with chagrinand with anguish. 

They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds whichseemed to them exactly like the one they looked for. It was worth fortythousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six. 

So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And theymade a bargain that he should buy it back for thirty-four thousandfrancs in case they found the other one before the end of February. 

Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had lefthim. He would borrow the rest. 

He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred ofanother, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, took upruinous obligations, dealt with usurers, and all the race of lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked his signature withouteven knowing if he could meet it; and, frightened by the pains yet tocome, by the black misery which was about to fall upon him, by theprospect of all the physical privations and of all the moral tortureswhich he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, putting downupon the merchant's counter thirty-six thousand francs. 

When Mme. Loisel took back the necklace, Mme. Forestier said to her, with a chilly manner:

"You should have returned it sooner, I might have needed it. "

She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she haddetected the substitution, what would she have thought, what would shehave said? Would she not have taken Mme. Loisel for a thief?

Mme. Loisel now knew the horrible existence of the needy. She took herpart, moreover, all on a sudden, with heroism. That dreadful debt mustbe paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changedtheir lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof. 

She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of thekitchen. She washed the dishes, using her rosy nails on the greasy potsand pans. She washed the dirty linen, the shirts, and the dish-cloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the streetevery morning, and carried up the water, stopping for breath at everylanding. And, dressed like a woman of the people, she went to thefruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, her basket on her arm, bargaining, insulted, defending her miserable money sou by sou. 

Each month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time. 

Her husband worked in the evening making a fair copy of sometradesman's accounts, and late at night he often copied manuscript forfive sous a page. 

And this life lasted ten years. 

At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with therates of usury, and the accumulations of the compound interest. 

Mme. Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverishedhouseholds--strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew, and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with greatswishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down near the window, and she thought of that gay evening oflong ago, of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so feted. 

What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows?who knows? How life is strange and changeful! How little a thing isneeded for us to be lost or to be saved!

But, one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Élysées torefresh herself from the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived awoman who was leading a child. It was Mme. Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming. 

Mme. Loisel felt moved. Was she going to speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she was going to tell her all about it. Whynot?

She went up. 

"Good day, Jeanne. "

The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plaingood-wife, did not recognize her at all, and stammered:

"But--madame!--I do not know--You must have mistaken. "

"No. I am Mathilde Loisel. "

Her friend uttered a cry. 

"Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!"

"Yes, I have had days hard enough, since I have seen you, days wretchedenough--and that because of you!"

"Of me! How so?"

"Do you remember that diamond necklace which you lent me to wear at theministerial ball?"

"Yes. Well?"

"Well, I lost it. "

"What do you mean? You brought it back. "

"I brought you back another just like it. And for this we have been tenyears paying. You can understand that it was not easy for us, us whohad nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very glad. "

Mme. Forestier had stopped. 

"You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?"

"Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very like. "

And she smiled with a joy which was proud and naïve at once. 

Mme. Forestier, strongly moved, took her two hands. 

"Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste. It was worth at mostfive hundred francs!"

_The Man with the Pale Eyes_

Monsieur Pierre Agénor De Vargnes, the Examining Magistrate, was theexact opposite of a practical joker. He was dignity, staidness, correctness personified. As a sedate man, he was quite incapable ofbeing guilty, even in his dreams, of anything resembling a practicaljoke, however remotely. I know nobody to whom he could be compared, unless it be the present president of the French Republic. I think itis useless to carry the analogy any further, and having said thus much, it will be easily understood that a cold shiver passed through me whenMonsieur Pierre Agénor de Vargnes did me the honor of sending a lady toawait on me. 

At about eight o'clock, one morning last winter, as he was leaving thehouse to go to the _Palais de Justice_, his footman handed him a card, on which was printed:

 DOCTOR JAMES FERDINAND, _Member of the Academy of Medicine, Port-au-Prince, Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. _

At the bottom of the card there was written in pencil:

 _From Lady Frogère. _

Monsieur de Vargnes knew the lady very well, who was a very agreeableCreole from Hayti, and whom he had met in many drawing-rooms, and, onthe other hand, though the doctor's name did not awaken anyrecollections in him, his quality and titles alone required that heshould grant him an interview, however short it might be. Therefore, although he was in a hurry to get out, Monsieur de Vargnes told thefootman to show in his early visitor, but to tell him beforehand thathis master was much pressed for time, as he had to go to the LawCourts. 

When the doctor came in, in spite of his usual imperturbability, hecould not restrain a movement of surprise, for the doctor presentedthat strange anomaly of being a negro of the purest, blackest type, with the eyes of a white man, of a man from the North, pale, cold, clear, blue eyes, and his surprise increased, when, after a few wordsof excuse for his untimely visit, he added, with an enigmatical smile:

"My eyes surprise you, do they not? I was sure that they would, and, totell you the truth, I came here in order that you might look at themwell, and never forget them. "

His smile, and his words, even more than his smile, seemed to be thoseof a madman. He spoke very softly, with that childish, lisping voice, which is peculiar to negroes, and his mysterious, almost menacingwords, consequently, sounded all the more as if they were uttered atrandom by a man bereft of his reason. But his looks, the looks of thosepale, cold, clear, blue eyes, were certainly not those of a madman. They clearly expressed menace, yes, menace, as well as irony, and, above all, implacable ferocity, and their glance was like a flash oflightning, which one could never forget. 

"I have seen, " Monsieur de Vargnes used to say, when speaking about it, "the looks of many murderers, but in none of them have I ever observedsuch a depth of crime, and of impudent security in crime. "

And this impression was so strong, that Monsieur de Vargnes thoughtthat he was the sport of some hallucination, especially as when hespoke about his eyes, the doctor continued with a smile, and in hismost childish accents: "Of course, Monsieur, you cannot understand whatI am saying to you, and I must beg your pardon for it. To-morrow youwill receive a letter which will explain it all to you, but, first ofall, it was necessary that I should let you have a good, a careful lookat my eyes, my eyes, which are myself, my only and true self, as youwill see. "

With these words, and with a polite bow, the doctor went out, leavingMonsieur de Vargnes extremely surprised, and a prey to this doubt, ashe said to himself:

"Is he merely a madman? The fierce expression, and the criminal depthsof his looks are perhaps caused merely by the extraordinary contrastbetween his fierce looks and his pale eyes. "

And absorbed in these thoughts, Monsieur de Vargnes unfortunatelyallowed several minutes to elapse, and then he thought to himselfsuddenly:

"No, I am not the sport of any hallucination, and this is no case of anoptical phenomenon. This man is evidently some terrible criminal, and Ihave altogether failed in my duty in not arresting him myself at once, illegally, even at the risk of my life. "

The judge ran downstairs in pursuit of the doctor, but it was too late;he had disappeared. In the afternoon, he called on Madame Frogère, toask her whether she could tell him anything about the matter. She, however, did not know the negro doctor in the least, and was even ableto assure him that he was a fictitious personage, for, as she was wellacquainted with the upper classes in Hayti, she knew that the Academyof Medicine at Port-au-Prince had no doctor of that name among itsmembers. As Monsieur de Vargnes persisted, and gave descriptions of thedoctor, especially mentioning his extraordinary eyes, Madame Frogèrebegan to laugh, and said:

"You have certainly had to do with a hoaxer, my dear monsieur. The eyeswhich you have described are certainly those of a white man, and theindividual must have been painted. "

On thinking it over, Monsieur de Vargnes remembered that the doctor hadnothing of the negro about him, but his black skin, his woolly hair andbeard, and his way of speaking, which was easily imitated, but nothingof the negro, not even the characteristic, undulating walk. Perhaps, after all, he was only a practical joker, and during the whole day, Monsieur de Vargnes took refuge in that view, which rather wounded hisdignity as a man of consequence, but which appeased his scruples as amagistrate. 

The next day, he received the promised letter, which was written, aswell as addressed, in letters cut out of the newspapers. It was asfollows:

"MONSIEUR: Doctor James Ferdinand does not exist, but the man whoseeyes you saw does, and you will certainly recognize his eyes. This manhas committed two crimes, for which he does not feel any remorse, but, as he is a psychologist, he is afraid of some day yielding to theirresistible temptation of confessing his crimes. You know better thananyone (and that is your most powerful aid), with what imperious forcecriminals, especially intellectual ones, feel this temptation. Thatgreat Poet, Edgar Poe, has written masterpieces on this subject, whichexpress the truth exactly, but he has omitted to mention the lastphenomenon, which I will tell you. Yes, I, a criminal, feel a terriblewish for somebody to know of my crimes, and when this requirement issatisfied, my secret has been revealed to a confidant, I shall betranquil for the future, and be freed from this demon of perversity, which only tempts us once. Well! Now that is accomplished. You shallhave my secret; from the day that you recognize me by my eyes, you willtry and find out what I am guilty of, and how I was guilty, and youwill discover it, being a master of your profession, which, by the by, has procured you the honor of having been chosen by me to bear theweight of this secret, which now is shared by us, and by us two alone. I say, advisedly, _by us two alone_. You could not, as a matter offact, prove the reality of this secret to anyone, unless I were toconfess it, and I defy you to obtain my public confession, as I haveconfessed it to you, _and without danger to myself_. "

Three months later, Monsieur de Vargnes met Monsieur X---- at anevening party, and at first sight, and without the slightesthesitation, he recognized in him those very pale, very cold, and veryclear blue eyes, eyes which it was impossible to forget. 

The man himself remained perfectly impassive, so that Monsieur deVargnes was forced to say to himself:

"Probably I am the sport of an hallucination at this moment, or elsethere are two pairs of eyes that are perfectly similar in the world. And what eyes! Can it be possible?"

The magistrate instituted inquiries into his life, and he discoveredthis, which removed all his doubts. 

Five years previously, Monsieur X---- had been a very poor, but verybrilliant medical student, who, although he never took his doctor'sdegree, had already made himself remarkable by his microbiologicalresearches. 

A young and very rich widow had fallen in love with him and marriedhim. She had one child by her first marriage, and in the space of sixmonths, first the child and then the mother died of typhoid fever, andthus Monsieur X---- had inherited a large fortune, in due form, andwithout any possible dispute. Everybody said that he had attended tothe two patients with the utmost devotion. Now, were these two deathsthe two crimes mentioned in his letter?

But then, Monsieur X---- must have poisoned his two victims with themicrobes of typhoid fever, which he had skillfully cultivated in them, so as to make the disease incurable, even by the most devoted care andattention. Why not?

"Do you believe it?" I asked Monsieur de Vargnes. 

"Absolutely, " he replied. "And the most terrible thing about it is, that the villain is right when he defies me to force him to confess hiscrime publicly, for I see no means of obtaining a confession, nonewhatever. For a moment, I thought of magnetism, but who could magnetizethat man with those pale, cold, bright eyes? With such eyes, he wouldforce the magnetizer to denounce himself as the culprit. "

And then he said, with a deep sigh:

"Ah! Formerly there was something good about justice!"

And when he saw my inquiring looks, he added in a firm and perfectlyconvinced voice:

"Formerly, justice had torture at its command. "

"Upon my word, " I replied, with all an author's unconscious and simpleegotism, "it is quite certain that without the torture, this strangetale will have no conclusion, and that is very unfortunate, as far asregards the story I intended to make out of it. "

_An Uncomfortable Bed_

One autumn I went to stay for the hunting season with some friends in achateau in Picardy. 

My friends were fond of practical joking, as all my friends are. I donot care to know any other sort of people. 

When I arrived, they gave me a princely reception, which at oncearoused distrust in my breast. We had some capital shooting. Theyembraced me, they cajoled me, as if they expected to have great fun atmy expense. 

I said to myself:

"Look out, old ferret! They have something in preparation for you. "

During the dinner, the mirth was excessive, far too great, in fact. Ithought: "Here are people who take a double share of amusement, andapparently without reason. They must be looking out in their own mindsfor some good bit of fun. Assuredly I am to be the victim of the joke. Attention!"

During the entire evening, everyone laughed in an exaggerated fashion. I smelled a practical joke in the air, as a dog smells game. But whatwas it? I was watchful, restless. I did not let a word or a meaning ora gesture escape me. Everyone seemed to me an object of suspicion, andI even looked distrustfully at the faces of the servants. 

The hour rang for going to bed, and the whole household came to escortme to my room. Why? They called to me: "Good night. " I entered theapartment, shut the door, and remained standing, without moving asingle step, holding the wax candle in my hand. 

I heard laughter and whispering in the corridor. Without doubt theywere spying on me. I cast a glance around the walls, the furniture, theceiling, the hangings, the floor. I saw nothing to justify suspicion. Iheard persons moving about outside my door. I had no doubt they werelooking through the keyhole. 

An idea came into my head: "My candle may suddenly go out, and leave mein darkness. "

Then I went across to the mantelpiece, and lighted all the wax candlesthat were on it. After that, I cast another glance around me withoutdiscovering anything. I advanced with short steps, carefully examiningthe apartment. Nothing. I inspected every article one after the other. Still nothing. I went over to the window. The shutters, large woodenshutters, were open. I shut them with great care, and then drew thecurtains, enormous velvet curtains, and I placed a chair in front ofthem, so as to have nothing to fear from without. 

Then I cautiously sat down. The armchair was solid. I did not ventureto get into the bed. However, time was flying; and I ended by comingto the conclusion that I was ridiculous. If they were spying on me, asI supposed, they must, while waiting for the success of the joke theyhad been preparing for me, have been laughing enormously at my terror. So I made up my mind to go to bed. But the bed was particularlysuspicious-looking. I pulled at the curtains. They seemed to besecure. All the same, there was danger. I was going perhaps to receivea cold shower-bath from overhead, or perhaps, the moment I stretchedmyself out, to find myself sinking under the floor with my mattress. Isearched in my memory for all the practical jokes of which I ever hadexperience. And I did not want to be caught. Ah! certainly not!certainly not! Then I suddenly bethought myself of a precaution whichI consider one of extreme efficacy: I caught hold of the side of themattress gingerly, and very slowly drew it toward me. It came away, followed by the sheet and the rest of the bedclothes. I dragged allthese objects into the very middle of the room, facing the entrancedoor. I made my bed over again as best I could at some distance fromthe suspected bedstead and the corner which had filled me with suchanxiety. Then, I extinguished all the candles, and, groping my way, Islipped under the bedclothes. 

For at least another hour, I remained awake, starting at the slightestsound. Everything seemed quiet in the chateau. I fell asleep. 

I must have been in a deep sleep for a long time, but all of a sudden, I was awakened with a start by the fall of a heavy body tumbling righton top of my own body, and, at the same time, I received on my face, onmy neck, and on my chest a burning liquid which made me utter a howl ofpain. And a dreadful noise, as if a sideboard laden with plates anddishes had fallen down, penetrated my ears. 

I felt myself suffocating under the weight that was crushing me andpreventing me from moving. I stretched out my hand to find out what wasthe nature of this object. I felt a face, a nose, and whiskers. Thenwith all my strength I launched out a blow over this face. But Iimmediately received a hail of cuffings which made me jump straight outof the soaked sheets, and rush in my nightshirt into the corridor, thedoor of which I found open. 

O stupor! it was broad daylight. The noise brought my friends hurryinginto the apartment, and we found, sprawling over my improvised bed, thedismayed valet, who, while bringing me my morning cup of tea, hadtripped over this obstacle in the middle of the floor, and fallen onhis stomach, spilling, in spite of himself, my breakfast over my face. 

The precautions I had taken in closing the shutters and going to sleepin the middle of the room had only brought about the interlude I hadbeen striving to avoid. 

Ah! how they all laughed that day!

_Ghosts_

Just at the time when the _Concordat_ was in its most flourishingcondition, a young man belonging to a wealthy and highly respectedmiddle-class family went to the office of the head of the police atP----, and begged for his help and advice, which was immediatelypromised him. 

"My father threatens to disinherit me, " the young man then began, "although I have never offended against the laws of the State, ofmorality or of his paternal authority, merely because I do not sharehis blind reverence for the Catholic Church and her Ministers. On thataccount he looks upon me, not merely as Latitudinarian, but as aperfect Atheist, and a faithful old manservant of ours, who is muchattached to me, and who accidentally saw my father's will, told me inconfidence that he had left all his property to the Jesuits. I thinkthis is highly suspicious, and I fear that the priests have beenmaligning me to my father. Until less than a year ago, we used to livevery quietly and happily together, but ever since he has had so much todo with the clergy, our domestic peace and happiness are at an end. "

"What you have told me, " the official replied, "is as likely as it isregrettable, but I fail to see how I can interfere in the matter. Yourfather is in full possession of all his mental faculties, and candispose of all his property exactly as he pleases. I also think thatyour protest is premature; you must wait until his will can legallytake effect, and then you can invoke the aid of justice; I am sorry tosay that I can do nothing for you. "

"I think you will be able to, " the young man replied; "for I believethat a very clever piece of deceit is being carried on here. "

"How? Please explain yourself more clearly. "

"When I remonstrated with him, yesterday evening, he referred to mydead mother, and at last assured me, in a voice of the deepestconviction, that she had frequently appeared to him, and had threatenedhim with all the torments of the damned if he did not disinherit hisson, who had fallen away from God, and leave all his property to theChurch. Now I do not believe in ghosts. "

"Neither do I, " the police director replied; "but I cannot well doanything on this dangerous ground if I had nothing but superstitions togo upon. You know how the Church rules all our affairs since the_Concordat_ with Rome, and if I investigate this matter, and obtain noresults, I am risking my post. It would be very different if you couldadduce any proofs for your suspicions. I do not deny that I should liketo see the clerical party, which will, I fear, be the ruin of Austria, receive a staggering blow; try, therefore, to get to the bottom of thisbusiness, and then we will talk it over again. "

About a month passed without the young Latitudinarian being heard of;but then he suddenly came one evening, evidently in a great state ofexcitement, and told him that he was in a position to expose thepriestly deceit which he had mentioned, if the authorities would assisthim. The police director asked for further information. 

"I have obtained a number of important clews, " the young man said. "Inthe first place, my father confessed to me that my mother did notappear to him in our house, but in the churchyard where she is buried. My mother was consumptive for many years, and a few weeks before herdeath she went to the village of S----, where she died and was buried. In addition to this, I found out from our footman that my father hasalready left the house twice, late at night, in company of X----, theJesuit priest, and that on both occasions he did not return tillmorning. Each time he was remarkably uneasy and low-spirited after hisreturn, and had three masses said for my dead mother. He also told mejust now that he has to leave home this evening on business, butimmediately he told me that, our footman saw the Jesuit go out of thehouse. We may, therefore, assume that he intends this evening toconsult the spirit of my dead mother again, and this would be anexcellent opportunity for getting on the track of the matter, if you donot object to opposing the most powerful force in the Empire, for thesake of such an insignificant individual as myself. "

"Every citizen has an equal right to the protection of the State, " thepolice director replied; "and I think that I have shown often enoughthat I am not wanting in courage to perform my duty, no matter howserious the consequences may be; but only very young men act withoutany prospects of success, as they are carried away by their feelings. When you came to me the first time, I was obliged to refuse yourrequest for assistance, but to-day your shares have risen in value. Itis now eight o'clock, and I shall expect you in two hours' time here inmy office. At present, all you have to do is to hold your tongue;everything else is my affair. "

As soon as it was dark, four men got into a closed carriage in the yardof the police office, and were driven in the direction of the villageof S----; their carriage, however, did not enter the village, butstopped at the edge of a small wood in the immediate neighborhood. Herethey all four alighted; they were the police director, accompanied bythe young Latitudinarian, a police sergeant and an ordinary policeman, who was, however, dressed in plain clothes. 

"The first thing for us to do is to examine the locality carefully, "the police director said: "it is eleven o'clock and the exercisers ofghosts will not arrive before midnight, so we have time to look roundus, and to take our measure. "

The four men went to the churchyard, which lay at the end of thevillage, near the little wood. Everything was as still as death, andnot a soul was to be seen. The sexton was evidently sitting in thepublic house, for they found the door of his cottage locked, as well asthe door of the little chapel that stood in the middle of thechurchyard. 

"Where is your mother's grave?" the police director asked; but as therewere only a few stars visible, it was not easy to find it, but at lastthey managed it, and the police director looked about in theneighborhood of it. 

"The position is not a very favorable one for us, " he said at last;"there is nothing here, not even a shrub, behind which we could hide. "

But just then, the policeman said that he had tried to get into thesexton's hut through the door or the window, and that at last he hadsucceeded in doing so by breaking open a square in a window, which hadbeen mended with paper, and that he had opened it and obtainedposesssion of the key which he brought to the police director. 

His plans were very quickly settled. He had the chapel opened and wentin with the young Latitudinarian; then he told the police sergeant tolock the door behind him and to put the key back where he had found it, and to shut the window of the sexton's cottage carefully. Lastly, hemade arrangements as to what they were to do in case anythingunforeseen should occur, whereupon the sergeant and the constable leftthe churchyard, and lay down in a ditch at some distance from the gate, but opposite to it. 

Almost as soon as the clock struck half-past eleven, they heard stepsnear the chapel, whereupon the police director and the youngLatitudinarian went to the window, in order to watch the beginning ofthe exorcism, and as the chapel was in total darkness, they thoughtthat they should be able to see, without being seen; but matters turnedout differently from what they expected. 

Suddenly, the key turned in the lock, and they barely had time toconceal themselves behind the altar before two men came in, one of whomwas carrying a dark lantern. One was the young man's father, an elderlyman of the middle class, who seemed very unhappy and depressed, theother the Jesuit father K----, a tall, thin, big-boned man, with athin, bilious face, in which two large gray eyes shone restlessly undertheir bushy black eyebrows. He lit the tapers, which were standing onthe altar, and then began to say a _Requiem Mass_; while the old manknelt on the altar steps and served him. 

When it was over, the Jesuit took the book of the Gospels and theholy-water sprinkler, and went slowly out of the chapel, while the oldman followed him, with a holy-water basin in one hand and a taper inthe other. Then the police director left his hiding place, and stoopingdown, so as not to be seen, he crept to the chapel window, where hecowered down carefully, and the young man followed his example. Theywere now looking straight on his mother's grave. 

The Jesuit, followed by the superstitious old man, walked three timesround the grave, then he remained standing before it, and by the lightof the taper he read a few passages from the Gospel; then he dipped theholy-water sprinkler three times into the holy-water basin, andsprinkled the grave three times; then both returned to the chapel, knelt down outside it with their faces toward the grave, and began topray aloud, until at last the Jesuit sprang up, in a species of wildecstasy, and cried out three times in a shrill voice:

_"Exsurge! Exsurge! Exsurge!"_[1]

 [1] Arise!

Scarcely had the last word of the exorcism died away when thick, bluesmoke rose out of the grave, which rapidly grew into a cloud, and beganto assume the outlines of a human body, until at last a tall, whitefigure stood behind the grave, and beckoned with its hand. 

"Who art thou?" the Jesuit asked solemnly, while the old man began tocry. 

"When I was alive, I was called Anna Maria B----, " the ghost replied ina hollow voice. 

"Will you answer all my questions?" the priest continued. 

"As far as I can. "

"Have you not yet been delivered from purgatory by our prayers, and allthe Masses for your soul, which we have said for you?"

"Not yet, but soon, soon I shall be. "

"When?"

"As soon as that blasphemer, my son, has been punished. "

"Has that not already happened? Has not your husband disinherited hislost son, and made the Church his heir, in his place?"

"That is not enough. "

"What must he do besides?"

"He must deposit his will with the Judicial Authorities as his lastwill and testament, and drive the reprobate out of his house. "

"Consider well what you are saying; must this really be?"

"It must, or otherwise I shall have to languish in purgatory muchlonger, " the sepulchral voice replied with a deep sigh; but the nextmoment it yelled out in terror:--

"Oh! Good Lord!" and the ghost began to run away as fast as it could. Ashrill whistle was heard, and then another, and the police directorlaid his hand on the shoulder of the exorciser accompanied with theremark:--

"You are in custody. "

Meanwhile, the police sergeant and the policeman, who had come into thechurchyard, had caught the ghost, and dragged it forward. It was thesexton, who had put on a flowing, white dress, and who wore a wax mask, which bore striking resemblance to his mother, as the son declared. 

When the case was heard, it was proved that the mask had been veryskillfully made from a portrait of the deceased woman. The Governmentgave orders that the matter should be investigated as secretly aspossible, and left the punishment of Father K---- to the spiritualauthorities, which was a matter of course, at a time when priests wereoutside the jurisdiction of the Civil Authorities; and it is needlessto say that he was very comfortable during his imprisonment, in amonastery in a part of the country which abounded with game and trout. 

The only valuable result of the amusing ghost story was that it broughtabout a reconciliation between father and son, and the former, as amatter of fact, felt such deep respect for priests and their ghosts inconsequence of the apparition that a short time after his wife had leftpurgatory for the last time in order to talk with him--he turned_Protestant_. 

_Fear_

We went up on deck after dinner. Before us the Mediterranean laywithout a ripple and shimmering in the moonlight. The great ship glidedon, casting upward to the star-studded sky a long serpent of blacksmoke. Behind us the dazzling white water, stirred by the rapidprogress of the heavy bark and beaten by the propeller, foamed, seemedto writhe, gave off so much brilliancy that one could have called itboiling moonlight. 

There were six or eight of us silent with admiration and gazing towardfar-away Africa whither we were going. The commandant, who was smokinga cigar with us, brusquely resumed the conversation begun at dinner. 

"Yes, I was afraid then. My ship remained for six hours on that rock, beaten by the wind and with a great hole in the side. Luckily we werepicked up toward evening by an English coaler which sighted us. "

Then a tall man of sunburned face and grave demeanor, one of those menwho have evidently traveled unknown and far-away lands, whose calm eyeseems to preserve in its depths something of the foreign scenes it hasobserved, a man that you are sure is impregnated with courage, spokefor the first time. 

"You say, commandant, that you were afraid. I beg to disagree with you. You are in error as to the meaning of the word and the nature of thesensation that you experienced. An energetic man is never afraid in thepresence of urgent danger. He is excited, aroused, full of anxiety, butfear is something quite different. "

The commandant laughed and answered: "Bah! I assure you that I wasafraid. "

Then the man of the tanned countenance addressed us deliberately asfollows:

"Permit me to explain. Fear--and the boldest men may feel fear--issomething horrible, an atrocious sensation, a sort of decomposition ofthe soul, a terrible spasm of brain and heart, the very memory of whichbrings a shudder of anguish, but when one is brave he feels it neitherunder fire nor in the presence of sure death nor in the face of anywell-known danger. It springs up under certain abnormal conditions, under certain mysterious influences in the presence of vague peril. Real fear is a sort of reminiscence of fantastic terror of the past. Aman who believes in ghosts and imagines he sees a specter in thedarkness must feel fear in all its horror. 

"As for me I was overwhelmed with fear in broad daylight about tenyears ago and again one December night last winter. 

"Nevertheless, I have gone through many dangers, many adventures whichseemed to promise death. I have often been in battle. I have been leftfor dead by thieves. In America I was condemned as an insurgent to behanged, and off the coast of China have been thrown into the sea fromthe deck of a ship. Each time I thought I was lost I at once decidedupon my course of action without regret or weakness. 

"That is not fear. 

"I have felt it in Africa, and yet it is a child of the north. Thesunlight banishes it like the mist. Consider this fact, gentlemen. Among the Orientals life has no value; resignation is natural. Thenights are clear and empty of the somber spirit of unrest which hauntsthe brain in cooler lands. In the Orient panic is known, but not fear. 

"Well, then! Here is the incident that befell me in Africa. 

"I was crossing the great sands to the south of Onargla. It is one ofthe most curious districts in the world. You have seen the solidcontinuous sand of the endless ocean strands. Well, imagine the oceanitself turned to sand in the midst of a storm. Imagine a silent tempestwith motionless billows of yellow dust. They are high as mountains, these uneven, varied surges, rising exactly like unchained billows, butstill larger, and stratified like watered silk. On this wild, silent, and motionless sea, the consuming rays of the tropical sun are pouredpitilessly and directly. You have to climb these streaks of red-hotash, descend again on the other side, climb again, climb, climb withouthalt, without repose, without shade. The horses cough, sink to theirknees and slide down the sides of these remarkable hills. 

"We were a couple of friends followed by eight spahis and four camelswith their drivers. We were no longer talking, overcome by heat, fatigue, and a thirst such as had produced this burning desert. Suddenly one of our men uttered a cry. We all halted, surprised by anunsolved phenomenon known only to travelers in these trackless wastes. 

"Somewhere, near us, in an indeterminable direction, a drum wasrolling, the mysterious drum of the sands. It was beating distinctly, now with greater resonance and again feebler, ceasing, then resumingits uncanny roll. 

"The Arabs, terrified, stared at one another, and one said in hislanguage: 'Death is upon us. ' As he spoke, my companion, my friend, almost a brother, dropped from his horse, falling face downward on thesand, overcome by a sunstroke. 

"And for two hours, while I tried in vain to save him, this weird drumfilled my ears with its monotonous, intermittent and incomprehensibletone, and I felt lay hold of my bones fear, real fear, hideous fear, inthe presence of this beloved corpse, in this hole scorched by the sun, surrounded by four mountains of sand, and two hundred leagues from anyFrench settlement, while echo assailed our ears with this furious drumbeat. 

"On that day I realized what fear was, but since then I have hadanother, and still more vivid experience--"

The commandant interrupted the speaker:

"I beg your pardon, but what was the drum?"

The traveler replied:

"I cannot say. No one knows. Our officers are often surprised by thissingular noise and attribute it generally to the echo produced by ahail of grains of sand blown by the wind against the dry and brittleleaves of weeds, for it has always been noticed that the phenomenonoccurs in proximity to little plants burned by the sun and hard asparchment. This sound seems to have been magnified, multiplied, andswelled beyond measure in its progress through the valleys of sand, andthe drum therefore might be considered a sort of sound mirage. Nothingmore. But I did not know that until later. 

"I shall proceed to my second instance. 

"It was last winter, in a forest of the Northeast of France. The skywas so overcast that night came two hours earlier than usual. My guidewas a peasant who walked beside me along the narrow road, under thevault of fir trees, through which the wind in its fury howled. Betweenthe tree tops, I saw the fleeting clouds, which seemed to hasten as ifto escape some object of terror. Sometimes in a fierce gust of wind thewhole forest bowed in the same direction with a groan of pain, and achill laid hold of me, despite my rapid pace and heavy clothing. 

"We were to sup and sleep at an old gamekeeper's house not much fartheron. I had come out for hunting. 

"My guide sometimes raised his eyes and murmured: 'Ugly weather!' Thenhe told me about the people among whom we were to spend the night. Thefather had killed a poacher, two years before, and since then had beengloomy and behaved as though haunted by a memory. His two sons weremarried and lived with him. 

"The darkness was profound. I could see nothing before me nor around meand the mass of overhanging interlacing trees rubbed together, fillingthe night with an incessant whispering. Finally I saw a light and soonmy companion was knocking upon a door. Sharp women's voices answeredus, then a man's voice, a choking voice, asked, 'Who goes there?' Myguide gave his name. We entered and beheld a memorable picture. 

"An old man with white hair, wild eyes, and a loaded gun in his hands, stood waiting for us in the middle of the kitchen, while two stalwartyouths, armed with axes, guarded the door. In the somber corners Idistinguished two women kneeling with faces to the wall. 

"Matters were explained, and the old man stood his gun against thewall, at the same time ordering that a room be prepared for me. Then, as the women did not stir: 'Look you, monsieur, ' said he, 'two yearsago this night I killed a man, and last year he came back to haunt me. I expect him again to-night. '

"Then he added in a tone that made me smile:

"'And so we are somewhat excited. '

"I reassured him as best I could, happy to have arrived on thatparticular evening and to witness this superstitious terror. I toldstories and almost succeeded in calming the whole household. 

"Near the fireplace slept an old dog, mustached and almost blind, withhis head between his paws, such a dog as reminds you of people you haveknown. 

"Outside, the raging storm was beating against the little house, andsuddenly through a small pane of glass, a sort of peep-window placednear the door, I saw in a brilliant flash of lightning a whole mass oftrees thrashed by the wind. 

"In spite of my efforts, I realized that terror was laying hold ofthese people, and each time that I ceased to speak, all ears listenedfor distant sounds. Annoyed at these foolish fears, I was about toretire to my bed, when the old gamekeeper suddenly leaped from hischair, seized his gun and stammered wildly: 'There he is, there he is!I hear him!' The two women again sank upon their knees in the cornerand hid their faces, while the sons took up the axes. I was going totry to pacify them once more, when the sleeping dog awakened suddenlyand, raising his head and stretching his neck, looked at the fire withhis dim eyes and uttered one of those mournful howls which maketravelers shudder in the darkness and solitude of the country. All eyeswere focused upon him now as he rose on his front feet, as thoughhaunted by a vision, and began to howl at something invisible, unknown, and doubtless horrible, for he was bristling all over. The gamekeeperwith livid face cried: 'He scents him! He scents him! He was there whenI killed him. ' The two women, terrified, began to wail in concert withthe dog. 

"In spite of myself, cold chills ran down my spine. This vision of theanimal at such a time and place, in the midst of these startled people, was something frightful to witness. 

"Then for an hour the dog howled without stirring; he howled as thoughin the anguish of a nightmare; and fear, horrible fear came over me. Fear of what? How can I say? It was fear, and that is all I know. 

"We remained motionless and pale, expecting something awful to happen. Our ears were strained and our hearts beat loudly while the slightestnoise startled us. Then the beast began to walk around the room, sniffing at the walls and growling constantly. His maneuvers weredriving us mad! Then the countryman, who had brought me thither, in aparoxysm of rage, seized the dog, and carrying him to a door, whichopened into a small court, thrust him forth. 

"The noise was suppressed and we were left plunged in a silence stillmore terrible. Then suddenly we all started. Some one was gliding alongthe outside wall toward the forest; then he seemed to be feeling of thedoor with a trembling hand; then for two minutes nothing was heard andwe almost lost our minds. Then he returned, still feeling along thewall, and scratched lightly upon the door as a child might do with hisfinger nails. Suddenly a face appeared behind the glass of thepeep-window, a white face with eyes shining like those of the cattribe. A sound was heard, an indistinct plaintive murmur. 

"Then there was a formidable burst of noise in the kitchen. The oldgamekeeper had fired and the two sons at once rushed forward andbarricaded the window with the great table, reinforcing it with thebuffet. 

"I swear to you that at the shock of the gun's discharge, which I didnot expect, such an anguish laid hold of my heart, my soul, and my verybody that I felt myself about to fall, about to die from fear. 

"We remained there until dawn, unable to move, in short, seized by anindescribable numbness of the brain. 

"No one dared to remove the barricade until a thin ray of sunlightappeared through a crack in the back room. 

"At the base of the wall and under the window, we found the old doglying dead, his skull shattered by a ball. 

"He had escaped from the little court by digging a hole under a fence. "

The dark-visaged man became silent, then he added:

"And yet on that night I incurred no danger, but I should rather againpass through all the hours in which I have confronted the most terribleperils than the one minute when that gun was discharged at the beardedhead in the window. "

_The Confession_

Marguerite de Thérelles was dying. Although but fifty-six, she seemedlike seventy-five at least. She panted, paler than the sheets, shakenby dreadful shiverings, her face convulsed, her eyes haggard, as if shehad seen some horrible thing. 

Her eldest sister, Suzanne, six years older, sobbed on her knees besidethe bed. A little table drawn close to the couch of the dying woman, and covered with a napkin, bore two lighted candles, the priest beingmomentarily expected to give extreme unction and the communion, whichshould be the last. 

The apartment had that sinister aspect, that air of hopeless farewells, which belongs to the chambers of the dying. Medicine bottles stoodabout on the furniture, linen lay in the corners, pushed aside by footor broom. The disordered chairs themselves seemed affrighted, as ifthey had run, in all the senses of the word. Death, the formidable, wasthere, hidden, waiting. 

The story of the two sisters was very touching. It was quoted far andwide; it had made many eyes to weep. 

Suzanne, the elder, had once been madly in love with a young man, whohad also been in love with her. They were engaged, and were onlywaiting the day fixed for the contract, when Henry de Lampierresuddenly died. 

The despair of the young girl was dreadful, and she vowed that shewould never marry. She kept her word. She put on widow's weeds, whichshe never took off. 

Then her sister, her little sister Marguérite, who was only twelveyears old, came one morning to throw herself into the arms of theelder, and said: "Big Sister, I do not want thee to be unhappy. I donot want thee to cry all thy life. I will never leave thee, never, never! I--I, too, shall never marry. I shall stay with thee always, always, always!"

Suzanne, touched by the devotion of the child, kissed her, but did notbelieve. 

Yet the little one, also, kept her word, and despite the entreaties ofher parents, despite the supplications of the elder, she never married. She was pretty, very pretty; she refused many a young man who seemed tolove her truly; and she never left her sister more. 

 * * * * *

They lived together all the days of their life, without ever beingseparated a single time. They went side by side, inseparably united. But Marguérite seemed always sad, oppressed, more melancholy than theelder, as though perhaps her sublime sacrifice had broken her spirit. She aged more quickly, had white hair from the age of thirty, and oftensuffering, seemed afflicted by some secret, gnawing trouble. 

Now she was to be the first to die. 

Since yesterday she was no longer able to speak. She had only said, atthe first glimmers of day-dawn:

"Go fetch Monsieur le Curé, the moment has come. "

And she had remained since then upon her back, shaken with spasms, herlips agitated as though dreadful words were mounting from her heartwithout power of issue, her look mad with fear, terrible to see. 

Her sister, torn by sorrow, wept wildly, her forehead resting on theedge of the bed, and kept repeating:

"Margot, my poor Margot, my little one!"

She had always called her, "Little One, " just as the younger had alwayscalled her "Big Sister. "

Steps were heard on the stairs. The door opened. A choir boy appeared, followed by an old priest in a surplice. As soon as she perceived him, the dying woman, with one shudder, sat up, opened her lips, stammeredtwo or three words, and began to scratch the sheets with her nails asif she had wished to make a hole. 

The Abbé Simon approached, took her hand, kissed her brow, and with asoft voice:

"God pardon thee, my child; have courage, the moment is now come, speak. "

Then Marguérite, shivering from head to foot, shaking her whole couchwith nervous movements, stammered:

"Sit down, Big Sister . . . Listen. "

The priest bent down toward Suzanne, who was still flung upon the bed'sfoot. He raised her, placed her in an armchair, and taking a hand ofeach of the sisters in one of his own, he pronounced:

"Lord, my God! Endue them with strength, cast Thy mercy upon them. "

And Marguérite began to speak. The words issued from her throat one byone, raucous, with sharp pauses, as though very feeble. 

 * * * * *

"Pardon, pardon, Big Sister; oh, forgive! If thou knewest how I havehad fear of this moment all my life. . . . "

Suzanne stammered through her tears:

"Forgive thee what, Little One? Thou hast given all to me, sacrificedeverything; thou art an angel. . . . "

But Marguérite interrupted her:

"Hush, hush! Let me speak . . . Do not stop me. It is dreadful . . . Letme tell all . . . To the very end, without flinching. Listen. Thourememberest . . . Thou rememberest . . . Henry. . . . "

Suzanne trembled and looked at her sister. The younger continued:

"Thou must hear all, to understand. I was twelve years old, only twelveyears old; thou rememberest well, is it not so? And I was spoiled, Idid everything that I liked! Thou rememberest, surely, how they spoiledme? Listen. The first time that he came he had varnished boots. He gotdown from his horse at the great steps, and he begged pardon for hiscostume, but he came to bring some news to papa. Thou rememberest, isit not so? Don't speak--listen. When I saw him I was completely carriedaway, I found him so very beautiful; and I remained standing in acorner of the _salon_ all the time that he was talking. Children arestrange . . . And terrible. Oh yes . . . I have dreamed of all that. 

"He came back again . . . Several times . . . I looked at him with all myeyes, with all my soul . . . I was large of my age . . . And very much moreknowing than anyone thought. He came back often . . . I thought only ofhim. I said, very low:

"'Henry . . . Henry de Lampierre!'

"Then they said that he was going to marry thee. It was a sorrow; oh, Big Sister, a sorrow . . . A sorrow! I cried for three nights withoutsleeping. He came back every day, in the afternoon, after his lunch . . . Thou rememberest, is it not so? Say nothing . . . Listen. Thou madest himcakes which he liked . . . With meal, with butter and milk. Oh, I knowwell how. I could make them yet if it were needed. He ate them at onemouthful, and . . . And then he drank a glass of wine, and then he said, 'It is delicious. ' Thou rememberest how he would say that?

"I was jealous, jealous! The moment of thy marriage approached. Therewere only two weeks more. I became crazy. I said to myself: 'He shallnot marry Suzanne, no, I will not have it! It is I whom he will marrywhen I am grown up. I shall never find anyone whom I love so much. ' Butone night, ten days before the contract, thou tookest a walk with himin front of the chateau by moonlight . . . And there . . . Under the fir, under the great fir . . . He kissed thee . . . Kissed . . . Holding thee inhis two arms . . . So long. Thou rememberest, is it not so? It wasprobably the first time . . . Yes . . . Thou wast so pale when thou earnestback to the _salon_. 

"I had seen you two; I was there, in the shrubbery. I was angry! If Icould I should have killed you both!

"I said to myself: 'He shall not marry Suzanne, never! He shall marryno one. I should be too unhappy. ' And all of a sudden I began to hatehim dreadfully. 

"Then, dost thou know what I did? Listen. I had seen the gardenermaking little balls to kill strange dogs. He pounded up a bottle with astone and put the powdered glass in a little ball of meat. 

"I took a little medicine bottle that mamma had; I broke it small witha hammer, and I hid the glass in my pocket. It was a shining powder . . . The next day, as soon as you had made the little cakes . . . I splitthem with a knife and I put in the glass . . . He ate three of them . . . I too, I ate one . . . I threw the other six into the pond. The two swansdied three days after . . . Dost thou remember? Oh, say nothing . . . Listen, listen. I, I alone did not die . . . But I have always beensick. Listen . . . He died--thou knowest well . . . Listen . . . That, thatis nothing. It is afterwards, later . . . Always . . . The worst . . . Listen. 

"My life, all my life . . . What torture! I said to myself: 'I will neverleave my sister. And at the hour of death I will tell her all . . . 'There! And ever since, I have always thought of that moment when Ishould tell thee all. Now it is come. It is terrible. Oh . . . BigSister!

"I have always thought, morning and evening, by night and by day, 'Sometime I must tell her that . . . ' I waited . . . What agony! . . . It is done. Say nothing. Now I am afraid . . . Am afraid . . . Oh, I am afraid. If I amgoing to see him again, soon, when I am dead. See him again . . . Thinkof it! The first! Before thou! I shall not dare. I must . . . I am goingto die . . . I want you to forgive me. I want it . . . I cannot go off tomeet him without that. Oh, tell her to forgive me, Monsieur le Curé, tell her . . . I implore you to do it. I cannot die without that. . . . "

 * * * * *

She was silent, and remained panting, always scratching the sheet withher withered nails. 

Suzanne had hidden her face in her hands, and did not move. She wasthinking of him whom she might have loved so long! What a good lifethey should have lived together! She saw him once again in thatvanished bygone time, in that old past which was put out forever. Thebeloved dead--how they tear your hearts! Oh, that kiss, his only kiss!She had hidden it in her soul. And after it nothing, nothing more herwhole life long!

 * * * * *

All of a sudden the priest stood straight, and, with a strong vibrantvoice, he cried:

"Mademoiselle Suzanne, your sister is dying!"

Then Suzanne, opening her hands, showed her face soaked with tears, andthrowing herself upon her sister, she kissed her with all her might, stammering:

"I forgive thee, I forgive thee, Little One. "

_The Horla, or Modern Ghosts_

_May 8th. _ What a lovely day! I have spent all the morning lying in thegrass in front of my house, under the enormous plantain tree whichcovers it, and shades and shelters the whole of it. I like this part ofthe country and I am fond of living here because I am attached to it bydeep roots, profound and delicate roots which attach a man to the soilon which his ancestors were born and died, which attach him to whatpeople think and what they eat, to the usages as well as to the food, local expressions, the peculiar language of the peasants, to the smellof the soil, of the villages and of the atmosphere itself. 

I love my house in which I grew up. From my windows I can see the Seinewhich flows by the side of my garden, on the other side of the road, almost through my grounds, the great and wide Seine, which goes toRouen and Havre, and which is covered with boats passing to and fro. 

On the left, down yonder, lies Rouen, that large town with its blueroofs, under its pointed Gothic towers. They are innumerable, delicateor broad, dominated by the spire of the cathedral, and full of bellswhich sound through the blue air on fine mornings, sending their sweetand distant iron clang to me; their metallic sound which the breezewafts in my direction, now stronger and now weaker, according as thewind is stronger or lighter. 

What a delicious morning it was!

About eleven o'clock, a long line of boats drawn by a steam tug, as bigas a fly, and which scarcely puffed while emitting its thick smoke, passed my gate. 

After two English schooners, whose red flag fluttered toward the sky, there came a magnificent Brazilian three-master; it was perfectly whiteand wonderfully clean and shining. I saluted it, I hardly know why, except that the sight of the vessel gave me great pleasure. 

_May 12th. _ I have had a slight feverish attack for the last few days, and I feel ill, or rather I feel low-spirited. 

Whence do these mysterious influences come, which change our happinessinto discouragement, and our self-confidence into diffidence? One mightalmost say that the air, the invisible air is full of unknowableForces, whose mysterious presence we have to endure. I wake up in thebest spirits, with an inclination to sing in my throat. Why? I go downby the side of the water, and suddenly, after walking a short distance, I return home wretched, as if some misfortune were awaiting me there. Why? Is it a cold shiver which, passing over my skin, has upset mynerves and given me low spirits? Is it the form of the clouds, or thecolor of the sky, or the color of the surrounding objects which is sochangeable, which have troubled my thoughts as they passed before myeyes? Who can tell? Everything that surrounds us, everything that wesee without looking at it, everything that we touch without knowing it, everything that we handle without feeling it, all that we meet withoutclearly distinguishing it, has a rapid, surprising and inexplicableeffect upon us and upon our organs, and through them on our ideas andon our heart itself. 

How profound that mystery of the Invisible is! We cannot fathom it withour miserable senses, with our eyes which are unable to perceive whatis either too small or too great, too near to, or too far from us;neither the inhabitants of a star nor of a drop of water . . . With ourears that deceive us, for they transmit to us the vibrations of the airin sonorous notes. They are fairies who work the miracle of changingthat movement into noise, and by that metamorphosis give birth tomusic, which makes the mute agitation of nature musical . . . With oursense of smell which is smaller than that of a dog . . . With our senseof taste which can scarcely distinguish the age of a wine!

Oh! If we only had other organs which would work other miracles in ourfavor, what a number of fresh things we might discover around us!

_May 16th. _ I am ill, decidedly! I was so well last month! I amfeverish, horribly feverish, or rather I am in a state of feverishenervation, which makes my mind suffer as much as my body. I havewithout ceasing that horrible sensation of some danger threatening me, that apprehension of some coming misfortune or of approaching death, that presentiment which is, no doubt, an attack of some illness whichis still unknown, which germinates in the flesh and in the blood. 

_May 18th. _ I have just come from consulting my medical man, for Icould no longer get any sleep. He found that my pulse was high, my eyesdilated, my nerves highly strung, but no alarming symptoms. I must havea course of shower-baths and of bromide of potassium. 

_May 25th. _ No change! My state is really very peculiar. As the eveningcomes on, an incomprehensible feeling of disquietude seizes me, just asif night concealed some terrible menace toward me. I dine quickly, andthen try to read, but I do not understand the words, and can scarcelydistinguish the letters. Then I walk up and down my drawing-room, oppressed by a feeling of confused and irresistible fear, the fear ofsleep and fear of my bed. 

About ten o'clock I go up to my room. As soon as I have got in I doublelock, and bolt it: I am frightened--of what? Up till the present time Ihave been frightened of nothing--I open my cupboards, and look under mybed; I listen--I listen--to what? How strange it is that a simplefeeling of discomfort, impeded or heightened circulation, perhaps theirritation of a nervous thread, a slight congestion, a small disturbancein the imperfect and delicate functions of our living machinery, canturn the most lighthearted of men into a melancholy one, and make acoward of the bravest! Then, I go to bed, and I wait for sleep as a manmight wait for the executioner. I wait for its coming with dread, andmy heart beats and my legs tremble, while my whole body shivers beneaththe warmth of the bedclothes, until the moment when I suddenly fallasleep, as one would throw oneself into a pool of stagnant water inorder to drown oneself. I do not feel coming over me, as I used to doformerly, this perfidious sleep which is close to me and watching me, which is going to seize me by the head, to close my eyes and annihilateme. 

I sleep--a long time--two or three hours perhaps--then a dream--no--anightmare lays hold on me. I feel that I am in bed and asleep--I feelit and I know it--and I feel also that somebody is coming close to me, is looking at me, touching me, is getting on to my bed, is kneeling onmy chest, is taking my neck between his hands and squeezingit--squeezing it with all his might in order to strangle me. 

I struggle, bound by that terrible powerlessness which paralyzes us inour dreams; I try to cry out--but I cannot; I want to move--I cannot; Itry, with the most violent efforts and out of breath, to turn over andthrow off this being which is crushing and suffocating me--I cannot!

And then, suddenly, I wake up, shaken and bathed in perspiration; Ilight a candle and find that I am alone, and after that crisis, whichoccurs every night, I at length fall asleep and slumber tranquilly tillmorning. 

_June 2d. _ My state has grown worse. What is the matter with me? Thebromide does me no good, and the shower-baths have no effect whatever. Sometimes, in order to tire myself out, though I am fatigued enoughalready, I go for a walk in the forest of Roumare. I used to think atfirst that the fresh light and soft air, impregnated with the odor ofherbs and leaves, would instill new blood into my veins and impartfresh energy to my heart. I turned into a broad ride in the wood, andthen I turned toward La Bouille, through a narrow path, between tworows of exceedingly tall trees, which placed a thick, green, almostblack roof between the sky and me. 

A sudden shiver ran through me, not a cold shiver, but a shiver ofagony, and so I hastened my steps, uneasy at being alone in the wood, frightened stupidly and without reason, at the profound solitude. Suddenly it seemed to me as if I were being followed, that somebody waswalking at my heels, close, quite close to me, near enough to touch me. 

I turned round suddenly, but I was alone. I saw nothing behind meexcept the straight, broad ride, empty and bordered by high trees, horribly empty; on the other side it also extended until it was lost inthe distance, and looked just the same, terrible. 

I closed my eyes. Why? And then I began to turn round on one heel veryquickly, just like a top. I nearly fell down, and opened my eyes; thetrees were dancing round me and the earth heaved; I was obliged to sitdown. Then, ah! I no longer remembered how I had come! What a strangeidea! What a strange, strange idea! I did not the least know. I startedoff to the right, and got back into the avenue which had led me intothe middle of the forest. 

_June 3d. _ I have had a terrible night. I shall go away for a fewweeks, for no doubt a journey will set me up again. 

_July 2d. _ I have come back, quite cured, and have had a mostdelightful trip into the bargain. I have been to Mont Saint-Michel, which I had not seen before. 

What a sight, when one arrives as I did, at Avranches toward the end ofthe day! The town stands on a hill, and I was taken into the publicgarden at the extremity of the town. I uttered a cry of astonishment. An extraordinarily large bay lay extended before me, as far as my eyescould reach, between two hills which were lost to sight in the mist;and in the middle of this immense yellow bay, under a clear, goldensky, a peculiar hill rose up, somber and pointed in the midst of thesand. The sun had just disappeared, and under the still flaming sky theoutline of that fantastic rock stood out, which bears on its summit afantastic monument. 

At daybreak I went to it. The tide was low as it had been the nightbefore, and I saw that wonderful abbey rise up before me as Iapproached it. After several hours' walking, I reached the enormousmass of rocks which supports the little town, dominated by the greatchurch. Having climbed the steep and narrow street, I entered the mostwonderful Gothic building that has ever been built to God on earth, aslarge as a town, full of low rooms which seem buried beneath vaultedroofs, and lofty galleries supported by delicate columns. 

I entered this gigantic granite jewel which is as light as a bit oflace, covered with towers, with slender belfries to which spiralstaircases ascend, and which raise their strange heads that bristlewith chimeras, with devils, with fantastic animals, with monstrousflowers, and which are joined together by finely carved arches, to theblue sky by day, and to the black sky by night. 

When I had reached the summit, I said to the monk who accompanied me:"Father, how happy you must be here!" And he replied: "It is verywindy, Monsieur;" and so we began to talk while watching the risingtide, which ran over the sand and covered it with a steel cuirass. 

And then the monk told me stories, all the old stories belonging to theplace, legends, nothing but legends. 

One of them struck me forcibly. The country people, those belonging tothe Mornet, declare that at night one can hear talking going on in thesand, and then that one hears two goats bleat, one with a strong, theother with a weak voice. Incredulous people declare that it is nothingbut the cry of the sea birds, which occasionally resembles bleatings, and occasionally human lamentations; but belated fishermen swear thatthey have met an old shepherd, whose head, which is covered by hiscloak, they can never see, wandering on the downs, between two tides, round the little town placed so far out of the world, and who isguiding and walking before them, a he-goat with a man's face, and ashe-goat with a woman's face, and both of them with white hair; andtalking incessantly, quarreling in a strange language, and thensuddenly ceasing to talk in order to bleat with all their might. 

"Do you believe it?" I asked the monk. "I scarcely know, " he replied, and I continued: "If there are other beings besides ourselves on thisearth, how comes it that we have not known it for so long a time, orwhy have you not seen them? How is it that I have not seen them?" Hereplied: "Do we see the hundred thousandth part of what exists? Lookhere; there is the wind, which is the strongest force in nature, whichknocks down men, and blows down buildings, uproots trees, raises thesea into mountains of water, destroys cliffs and casts great ships ontothe breakers; the wind which kills, which whistles, which sighs, whichroars--have you ever seen it, and can you see it? It exists for allthat, however. "

I was silent before this simple reasoning. That man was a philosopher, or perhaps a fool; I could not say which exactly, so I held my tongue. What he had said, had often been in my own thoughts. 

_July 3d. _ I have slept badly; certainly there is some feverishinfluence here, for my coachman is suffering in the same way as I am. When I went back home yesterday, I noticed his singular paleness, and Iasked him: "What is the matter with you, Jean?" "The matter is that Inever get any rest, and my nights devour my days. Since your departure, monsieur, there has been a spell over me. "

However, the other servants are all well, but I am very frightened ofhaving another attack, myself. 

_July 4th. _ I am decidedly taken again; for my old nightmares havereturned. Last night I felt somebody leaning on me who was sucking mylife from between my lips with his mouth. Yes, he was sucking it out ofmy neck, like a leech would have done. Then he got up, satiated, and Iwoke up, so beaten, crushed and annihilated that I could not move. Ifthis continues for a few days, I shall certainly go away again. 

_July 5th. _ Have I lost my reason? What has happened, what I saw lastnight, is so strange, that my head wanders when I think of it!

As I do now every evening, I had locked my door, and then, beingthirsty, I drank half a glass of water, and I accidentally noticed thatthe water bottle was full up to the cut-glass stopper. 

Then I went to bed and fell into one of my terrible sleeps, from whichI was aroused in about two hours by a still more terrible shock. 

Picture to yourself a sleeping man who is being murdered and who wakesup with a knife in his chest, and who is rattling in his throat, covered with blood, and who can no longer breathe, and is going to die, and does not understand anything at all about it--there it is. 

Having recovered my senses, I was thirsty again, so I lit a candle andwent to the table on which my water bottle was. I lifted it up andtilted it over my glass, but nothing came out. It was empty! It wascompletely empty! At first I could not understand it at all, and thensuddenly I was seized by such a terrible feeling that I had to sitdown, or rather I fell into a chair! Then I sprang up with a bound tolook about me, and then I sat down again, overcome by astonishment andfear, in front of the transparent crystal bottle! I looked at it withfixed eyes, trying to conjecture, and my hands trembled! Somebody haddrunk the water, but who? I? I without any doubt. It could surely onlybe I? In that case I was a somnambulist. I lived, without knowing it, that double mysterious life which makes us doubt whether there are nottwo beings in us, or whether a strange, unknowable and invisible beingdoes not at such moments, when our soul is in a state of torpor, animate our captive body which obeys this other being, as it does usourselves, and more than it does ourselves. 

Oh! Who will understand my horrible agony? Who will understand theemotion of a man who is sound in mind, wide awake, full of sound sense, and who looks in horror at the remains of a little water that hasdisappeared while he was asleep, through the glass of a water bottle?And I remained there until it was daylight, without venturing to go tobed again. 

_July 6th. _ I am going mad. Again all the contents of my water bottlehave been drunk during the night--or rather, I have drunk it!

But is it I? Is it I? Who could it be? Who? Oh! God! Am I going mad?Who will save me?

_July 10th. _ I have just been through some surprising ordeals. Decidedly I am mad! And yet!--

On July 6th, before going to bed, I put some wine, milk, water, breadand strawberries on my table. Somebody drank--I drank--all the waterand a little of the milk, but neither the wine, bread nor thestrawberries were touched. 

On the seventh of July I renewed the same experiment, with the sameresults, and on July 8th, I left out the water and the milk and nothingwas touched. 

Lastly, on July 9th I put only water and milk on my table, taking careto wrap up the bottles in white muslin and to tie down the stoppers. Then I rubbed my lips, my beard and my hands with pencil lead, and wentto bed. 

Irresistible sleep seized me, which was soon followed by a terribleawakening. I had not moved, and my sheets were not marked. I rushed tothe table. The muslin round the bottles remained intact; I undid thestring, trembling with fear. All the water had been drunk, and so hadthe milk! Ah! Great God!--

I must start for Paris immediately. 

_July 12th. _ Paris. I must have lost my head during the last few days!I must be the plaything of my enervated imagination, unless I am reallya somnambulist, or that I have been brought under the power of one ofthose influences which have been proved to exist, but which havehitherto been inexplicable, which are called suggestions. In any case, my mental state bordered on madness, and twenty-four hours of Parissufficed to restore me to my equilibrium. 

Yesterday after doing some business and paying some visits whichinstilled fresh and invigorating mental air into me, I wound up myevening at the _Théâtre Français_. A play by Alexandre Dumas theYounger was being acted, and his active and powerful mind completed mycure. Certainly solitude is dangerous for active minds. We require menwho can think and can talk, around us. When we are alone for a longtime we people space with phantoms. 

I returned along the boulevards to my hotel in excellent spirits. Amidthe jostling of the crowd I thought, not without irony, of my terrorsand surmises of the previous week, because I believed, yes, I believed, that an invisible being lived beneath my roof. How weak our head is, and how quickly it is terrified and goes astray, as soon, as we arestruck by a small, incomprehensible fact. 

Instead of concluding with these simple words: "I do not understandbecause the cause escapes me, " we immediately imagine terriblemysteries and supernatural powers. 

_July 14th. _ _Fête_ of the Republic. I walked through the streets, andthe crackers and flags amused me like a child. Still it is very foolishto be merry on a fixed date, by a Government decree. The populace is animbecile flock of sheep, now steadily patient, and now in ferociousrevolt. Say to it: "Amuse yourself, " and it amuses itself. Say to it:"Go and fight with your neighbor, " and it goes and fights. Say to it:"Vote for the Emperor, " and it votes for the Emperor, and then say toit: "Vote for the Republic, " and it votes for the Republic. 

Those who direct it are also stupid; but instead of obeying men theyobey principles, which can only be stupid, sterile, and false, for thevery reason that they are principles, that is to say, ideas which areconsidered as certain and unchangeable, in this world where one iscertain of nothing, since light is an illusion and noise is anillusion. 

_July 16th. _ I saw some things yesterday that troubled me very much. 

I was dining at my cousin's Madame Sablé, whose husband is colonel ofthe 76th Chasseurs at Limoges. There were two young women there, one ofwhom had married a medical man, Dr. Parent, who devotes himself a greatdeal to nervous diseases and the extraordinary manifestations to whichat this moment experiments in hypnotism and suggestion give rise. 

He related to us at some length, the enormous results obtained byEnglish scientists and the doctors of the medical school at Nancy, andthe facts which he adduced appeared to me so strange, that I declaredthat I was altogether incredulous. 

"We are, " he declared, "on the point of discovering one of the mostimportant secrets of nature, I mean to say, one of its most importantsecrets on this earth, for there are certainly some which are of adifferent kind of importance up in the stars, yonder. Ever since manhas thought, since he has been able to express and write down histhoughts, he has felt himself close to a mystery which is impenetrableto his coarse and imperfect senses, and he endeavors to supplement thewant of power of his organs by the efforts of his intellect. As long asthat intellect still remained in its elementary stage, this intercoursewith invisible spirits assumed forms which were commonplace thoughterrifying. Thence sprang the popular belief in the supernatural, thelegends of wandering spirits, of fairies, of gnomes, ghosts, I mighteven say the legend of God, for our conceptions of the workman-creator, from whatever religion they may have come down to us, are certainly themost mediocre, the stupidest and the most unacceptable inventions thatever sprang from the frightened brain of any human creatures. Nothingis truer than what Voltaire says: 'God made man in His own image, butman has certainly paid Him back again. '

"But for rather more than a century, men seem to have had apresentiment of something new. Mesmer and some others have put us on anunexpected track, and especially within the last two or three years, wehave arrived at really surprising results. "

My cousin, who is also very incredulous, smiled, and Dr. Parent said toher: "Would you like me to try and send you to sleep, Madame?" "Yes, certainly. "

She sat down in an easy-chair, and he began to look at her fixedly, soas to fascinate her. I suddenly felt myself somewhat uncomfortable, with a beating heart and a choking feeling in my throat. I saw thatMadame Sablé's eyes were growing heavy, her mouth twitched and herbosom heaved, and at the end of ten minutes she was asleep. 

"Stand behind her, " the doctor said to me, and so I took a seat behindher. He put a visiting card into her hands, and said to her: "This is alooking-glass; what do you see in it?" And she replied: "I see mycousin. " "What is he doing?" "He is twisting his mustache. " "And now?""He is taking a photograph out of his pocket. " "Whose photograph isit?" "His own. "

That was true, and that photograph had been given me that same eveningat the hotel. 

"What is his attitude in this portrait?" "He is standing up with hishat in his hand. "

So she saw on that card, on that piece of white pasteboard, as if shehad seen it in a looking glass. 

The young women were frightened, and exclaimed: "That is quite enough!Quite, quite enough!"

But the doctor said to her authoritatively: "You will get up at eighto'clock to-morrow morning; then you will go and call on your cousin athis hotel and ask him to lend you five thousand francs which yourhusband demands of you, and which he will ask for when he sets out onhis coming journey. "

Then he woke her up. 

On returning to my hotel, I thought over this curious _séance_ and Iwas assailed by doubts, not as to my cousin's absolute and undoubtedgood faith, for I had known her as well as if she had been my ownsister ever since she was a child, but as to a possible trick on thedoctor's part. Had not he, perhaps, kept a glass hidden in his hand, which he showed to the young woman in her sleep, at the same time as hedid the card? Professional conjurers do things which are just assingular. 

So I went home and to bed, and this morning, at about half-past eight, I was awakened by my footman, who said to me: "Madame Sablé has askedto see you immediately, Monsieur, " so I dressed hastily and went toher. 

She sat down in some agitation, with her eyes on the floor, and withoutraising her veil she said to me: "My dear cousin, I am going to ask agreat favor of you. " "What is it, cousin?" "I do not like to tell you, and yet I must. I am in absolute want of five thousand francs. " "What, you?" "Yes, I, or rather my husband, who has asked me to procure themfor him. "

I was so stupefied that I stammered out my answers. I asked myselfwhether she had not really been making fun of me with Doctor Parent, if it were not merely a very well-acted farce which had been got upbeforehand. On looking at her attentively, however, my doubtsdisappeared. She was trembling with grief, so painful was this stepto her, and I was sure that her throat was full of sobs. 

I knew that she was very rich and so I continued: "What! Has not yourhusband five thousand francs at his disposal! Come, think. Are you surethat he commissioned you to ask me for them?"

She hesitated for a few seconds, as if she were making a great effortto search her memory, and then she replied: "Yes . . . Yes, I am quitesure of it. " "He has written to you?"

She hesitated again and reflected, and I guessed the torture of herthoughts. She did not know. She only knew that she was to borrow fivethousand francs of me for her husband. So she told a lie. "Yes, he haswritten to me. " "When, pray? You did not mention it to me yesterday. ""I received his letter this morning. " "Can you show it me?" "No; no . . . No . . . It contained private matters . . . Things too personal toourselves. . . . I burnt it. " "So your husband runs into debt?"

She hesitated again, and then murmured: "I do not know. " Thereupon Isaid bluntly: "I have not five thousand francs at my disposal at thismoment, my dear cousin. "

She uttered a kind of cry as if she were in pain and said: "Oh! oh! Ibeseech you, I beseech you to get them for me. . . . "

She got excited and clasped her hands as if she were praying to me! Iheard her voice change its tone; she wept and stammered, harassed anddominated by the irresistible order that she had received. 

"Oh! oh! I beg you to . . . If you knew what I am suffering. . . . I wantthem to-day. "

I had pity on her: "You shall have them by and by, I swear to you. ""Oh! thank you! thank you! How kind you are!"

I continued: "Do you remember what took place at your house lastnight?" "Yes. " "Do you remember that Doctor Parent sent you to sleep?""Yes. " "Oh! Very well then; he ordered you to come to me this morningto borrow five thousand francs, and at this moment you are obeying thatsuggestion. "

She considered for a few moments, and then replied:

"But as it is my husband who wants them. . . . "

For a whole hour I tried to convince her, but could not succeed, andwhen she had gone I went to the doctor. He was just going out, and helistened to me with a smile, and said: "Do you believe now?" "Yes, Icannot help it. " "Let us go to your cousin's. "

She was already dozing on a couch, overcome with fatigue. The doctorfelt her pulse, looked at her for some time with one hand raised towardher eyes which she closed by degrees under the irresistible power ofthis magnetic influence, and when she was asleep, he said:

"Your husband does not require the five thousand francs any longer! Youmust, therefore, forget that you asked your cousin to lend them to you, and, if he speaks to you about it, you will not understand him. "

Then he woke her up, and I took out a pocketbook and said: "Here iswhat you asked me for this morning, my dear cousin. " But she was sosurprised that I did not venture to persist; nevertheless, I tried torecall the circumstance to her, but she denied it vigorously, thoughtthat I was making fun of her, and in the end very nearly lost hertemper. 

 * * * * *

There! I have just come back, and I have not been able to eat anylunch, for this experiment has altogether upset me. 

_July 19th. _ Many people to whom I have told the adventure have laughedat me. I no longer know what to think. The wise man says: Perhaps?

_July 21st. _ I dined at Bougival, and then I spent the evening ata boatmen's ball. Decidedly everything depends on place andsurroundings. It would be the height of folly to believe in thesupernatural on the _île de la Grenouillière_[1] . . . But on the topof Mont Saint-Michel? . . . And in India? We are terribly under theinfluence of our surroundings. I shall return home next week. 

 [1] Frog-island. 

_July 30th. _ I came back to my own house yesterday. Everything is goingon well. 

_August 2d. _ Nothing fresh; it is splendid weather, and I spend my daysin watching the Seine flow past. 

_August 4th. _ Quarrels among my servants. They declare that the glassesare broken in the cupboards at night. The footman accuses the cook, whoaccuses the needlewoman, who accuses the other two. Who is the culprit?A clever person, to be able to tell. 

_August 6th. _ This time I am not mad. I have seen . . . I have seen . . . Ihave seen!. . . I can doubt no longer . . . I have seen it!. . . 

I was walking at two o'clock among my rose trees, in the full sunlight . . . In the walk bordered by autumn roses which are beginning to fall. As Istopped to look at a _Géant de Bataille_, which had three splendidblooms, I distinctly saw the stalk of one of the roses bend, close tome, as if an invisible hand had bent it, and then break, as if thathand had picked it! Then the flower raised itself, following the curvewhich a hand would have described in carrying it toward a mouth, and itremained suspended in the transparent air, all alone and motionless, aterrible red spot, three yards from my eyes. In desperation I rushed atit to take it! I found nothing; it had disappeared. Then I was seizedwith furious rage against myself, for it is not allowable for areasonable and serious man to have such hallucinations. 

But was it a hallucination? I turned round to look for the stalk, and Ifound it immediately under the bush, freshly broken, between two otherroses which remained on the branch, and I returned home then, with amuch disturbed mind; for I am certain now, as certain as I am of thealternation of day and night, that there exists close to me aninvisible being that lives on milk and on water, which can touchobjects, take them and change their places; which is, consequently, endowed with a material nature, although it is imperceptible to oursenses, and which lives as I do, under my roof. . . . 

_August 7th_. I slept tranquilly. He drank the water out of mydecanter, but did not disturb my sleep. 

I ask myself whether I am mad. As I was walking just now in the sun bythe riverside, doubts as to my own sanity arose in me; not vague doubtssuch as I have had hitherto, but precise and absolute doubts. I haveseen mad people, and I have known some who have been quite intelligent, lucid, even clear-sighted in every concern of life, except on onepoint. They spoke clearly, readily, profoundly on everything, whensuddenly their thoughts struck upon the breakers of their madness andbroke to pieces there, and were dispersed and foundered in that furiousand terrible sea, full of bounding waves, fogs and squalls, which iscalled _madness_. 

I certainly should think that I was mad, absolutely mad, if I were notconscious, did not perfectly know my state, if I did fathom it byanalyzing it with the most complete lucidity. I should, in fact, be areasonable man who was laboring under a hallucination. Some unknowndisturbance must have been excited in my brain, one of thosedisturbances which physiologists of the present day try to note and tofix precisely, and that disturbance must have caused a profound gulf inmy mind and in the order and logic of my ideas. Similar phenomena occurin the dreams which lead us through the most unlikely phantasmagoria, without causing us any surprise, because our verifying apparatus andour sense of control has gone to sleep, while our imaginative facultywakes and works. Is it not possible that one of the imperceptible keysof the cerebral finger-board has been paralyzed in me? Some men losethe recollection of proper names, or of verbs or of numbers or merelyof dates, in consequence of an accident. The localization of all theparticles of thought has been proved nowadays; what then would there besurprising in the fact that my faculty of controlling the unreality ofcertain hallucinations should be destroyed for the time being!

I thought of all this as I walked by the side of the water. The sun wasshining brightly on the river and made earth delightful, while itfilled my looks with love for life, for the swallows, whose agility isalways delightful in my eyes, for the plants by the riverside, whoserustling is a pleasure to my ears. 

By degrees, however, an inexplicable feeling of discomfort seized me. It seemed to me as if some unknown force were numbing and stopping me, were preventing me from going farther and were calling me back. I feltthat painful wish to return which oppresses you when you have left abeloved invalid at home, and when you are seized by a presentiment thathe is worse. 

I, therefore, returned in spite of myself, feeling certain that Ishould find some bad news awaiting me, a letter or a telegram. Therewas nothing, however, and I was more surprised and uneasy than if I hadhad another fantastic vision. 

_August 8th. _ I spent a terrible evening yesterday. He does not showhimself any more, but I feel that he is near me, watching me, lookingat me, penetrating me, dominating me and more redoubtable when he hideshimself thus, than if he were to manifest his constant and invisiblepresence by supernatural phenomena. However, I slept. 

_August 9th. _ Nothing, but I am afraid. 

_August 10th. _ Nothing; what will happen to-morrow?

_August 11th. _ Still nothing; I cannot stop at home with this fearhanging over me and these thoughts in my mind; I shall go away. 

_August 12th. _ Ten o'clock at night. All day long I have been trying toget away, and have not been able. I wished to accomplish this simpleand easy act of liberty--go out--get into my carriage in order to go toRouen--and I have not been able to do it. What is the reason?

_August 13th. _ When one is attacked by certain maladies, all thesprings of our physical being appear to be broken, all our energiesdestroyed, all our muscles relaxed, our bones to have become as soft asour flesh, and our blood as liquid as water. I am experiencing that inmy moral being in a strange and distressing manner. I have no longerany strength, any courage, any self-control, nor even any power to setmy own will in motion. I have no power left to _will_ anything, butsome one does it for me and I obey. 

_August 14th. _ I am lost! Somebody possesses my soul and governs it!Somebody orders all my acts, all my movements, all my thoughts. I am nolonger anything in myself, nothing except an enslaved and terrifiedspectator of all the things which I do. I wish to go out; I cannot. Hedoes not wish to, and so I remain, trembling and distracted in thearmchair in which he keeps me sitting. I merely wish to get up and torouse myself, so as to think that I am still master of myself: Icannot! I am riveted to my chair, and my chair adheres to the ground insuch a manner that no force could move us. 

Then suddenly, I must, I must go to the bottom of my garden to picksome strawberries and eat them, and I go there. I pick the strawberriesand I eat them! Oh! my God! my God! Is there a God? If there be one, deliver me! save me! succor me! Pardon! Pity! Mercy! Save me! Oh! whatsufferings! what torture! what horror!

_August 15th. _ Certainly this is the way in which my poor cousin waspossessed and swayed, when she came to borrow five thousand francs ofme. She was under the power of a strange will which had entered intoher, like another soul, like another parasitic and ruling soul. Is theworld coming to an end?

But who is he, this invisible being that rules me? This unknowablebeing, this rover of a supernatural race?

Invisible beings exist, then! How is it then that since the beginningof the world they have never manifested themselves in such a mannerprecisely as they do to me? I have never read anything which resembleswhat goes on in my house. Oh! If I could only leave it, if I could onlygo away and flee, so as never to return, I should be saved; but Icannot. 

_August 16th_. I managed to escape to-day for two hours, like aprisoner who finds the door of his dungeon accidentally open. Isuddenly felt that I was free and that he was far away, and so I gaveorders to put the horses in as quickly as possible, and I drove toRouen. Oh! How delightful to be able to say to a man who obeyed you:"Go to Rouen!"

I made him pull up before the library, and I begged them to lend me Dr. Herrmann Herestauss's treatise on the unknown inhabitants of theancient and modern world. 

Then, as I was getting into my carriage, I intended to say: "To therailway station!" but instead of this I shouted--I did not say, but Ishouted--in such a loud voice that all the passers-by turned round:"Home!" and I fell back onto the cushion of my carriage, overcome bymental agony. He had found me out and regained possession of me. 

_August 17th_. Oh! What a night! what a night! And yet it seems to methat I ought to rejoice. I read until one o'clock in the morning!Herestauss, Doctor of Philosophy and Theogony, wrote the history andthe manifestation of all those invisible beings which hover around man, or of whom he dreams. He describes their origin, their domains, theirpower; but none of them resembles the one which haunts me. One mightsay that man, ever since he has thought, has had a foreboding of, andfeared a new being, stronger than himself, his successor in this world, and that, feeling him near, and not being able to foretell the natureof that master, he has, in his terror, created the whole race of hiddenbeings, of vague phantoms born of fear. 

Having, therefore, read until one o'clock in the morning, I went andsat down at the open window, in order to cool my forehead and mythoughts, in the calm night air. It was very pleasant and warm! How Ishould have enjoyed such a night formerly!

There was no moon, but the stars darted out their rays in the darkheavens. Who inhabits those worlds? What forms, what living beings, what animals are there yonder? What do those who are thinkers in thosedistant worlds know more than we do? What can they do more than we can?What do they see which we do not know? Will not one of them, some dayor other, traversing space, appear on our earth to conquer it, just asthe Norsemen formerly crossed the sea in order to subjugate nationsmore feeble than themselves?

We are so weak, so unarmed, so ignorant, so small, we who live on thisparticle of mud which turns round in a drop of water. 

I fell asleep, dreaming thus in the cool night air, and then, havingslept for about three quarters of an hour, I opened my eyes withoutmoving, awakened by I know not what confused and strange sensation. Atfirst I saw nothing, and then suddenly it appeared to me as if a pageof a book which had remained open on my table, turned over of its ownaccord. Not a breath of air had come in at my window, and I wassurprised and waited. In about four minutes, I saw, I saw, yes I sawwith my own eyes another page lift itself up and fall down on theothers, as if a finger had turned it over. My armchair was empty, appeared empty, but I knew that he was there, he, and sitting in myplace, and that he was reading. With a furious bound, the bound of anenraged wild beast that wishes to disembowel its tamer, I crossed myroom to seize him, to strangle him, to kill him!. . . But before I couldreach it, my chair fell over as if somebody had run away from me . . . Mytable rocked, my lamp fell and went out, and my window closed as ifsome thief had been surprised and had fled out into the night, shuttingit behind him. 

So he had run away: he had been afraid; he, afraid of me!

So . . . So . . . To-morrow . . . Or later . . . Some day or other . . . I shouldbe able to hold him in my clutches and crush him against the ground! Donot dogs occasionally bite and strangle their masters?

_August 18th. _ I have been thinking the whole day long. Oh! yes, I willobey him, follow his impulses, fulfill all his wishes, show myselfhumble, submissive, a coward. He is the stronger; but an hour willcome. . . . 

_August 19th_. I know, . . . I know . . . I know all! I have just read thefollowing in the _Revue du Monde Scientifique_: "A curious piece ofnews comes to us from Rio de Janeiro. Madness, an epidemic of madness, which may be compared to that contagious madness which attacked thepeople of Europe in the Middle Ages, is at this moment raging in theProvince of San-Paulo. The frightened inhabitants are leaving theirhouses, deserting their villages, abandoning their land, saying thatthey are pursued, possessed, governed like human cattle by invisible, though tangible beings, a species of vampire, which feed on their lifewhile they are asleep, and who, besides, drink water and milk withoutappearing to touch any other nourishment. 

"Professor Dom Pedro Henriques, accompanied by several medical savants, has gone to the Province of San-Paulo, in order to study the origin andthe manifestations of this surprising madness on the spot, and topropose such measures to the Emperor as may appear to him to be mostfitted to restore the mad population to reason. "

Ah! Ah! I remember now that fine Brazilian three-master which passed infront of my windows as it was going up the Seine, on the 8th of lastMay! I thought it looked so pretty, so white and bright! That Being wason board of her, coming from there, where its race sprang from. And itsaw me! It saw my house which was also white, and it sprang from theship onto the land. Oh! Good heavens!

Now I know, I can divine. The reign of man is over, and he has come. He whom disquieted priests exorcised, whom sorcerers evoked on darknights, without yet seeing him appear, to whom the presentiments ofthe transient masters of the world lent all the monstrous or gracefulforms of gnomes, spirits, genii, fairies, and familiar spirits. Afterthe coarse conceptions of primitive fear, more clear-sighted menforesaw it more clearly. Mesmer divined him, and ten years ago physiciansaccurately discovered the nature of his power, even before he exercisedit himself. They played with that weapon of their new Lord, the swayof a mysterious will over the human soul, which had become enslaved. They called it magnetism, hypnotism, suggestion . . . What do I know? Ihave seen them amusing themselves like impudent children with thishorrible power! Woe to us! Woe to man! He has come, the . . . The . . . What does he call himself . . . The . . . I fancy that he is shoutingout his name to me and I do not hear him . . . The . . . Yes . . . He isshouting it out . . . I am listening . . . I cannot . . . Repeat . . . It . . . Horla . . . I have heard . . . The Horla . . . It is he . . . The Horla . . . He has come!. . . 

Ah! the vulture has eaten the pigeon, the wolf has eaten the lamb; thelion has devoured the buffalo with sharp horns; man has killed the lionwith an arrow, with a sword, with gunpowder; but the Horla will make ofman what we have made of the horse and of the ox: his chattel, hisslave and his food, by the mere power of his will. Woe to us!

But, nevertheless, the animal sometimes revolts and kills the man whohas subjugated it. . . . I should also like . . . I shall be able to . . . ButI must know him, touch him, see him! Learned men say that beasts' eyes, as they differ from ours, do not distinguish like ours do . . . And myeye cannot distinguish this newcomer who is oppressing me. 

Why? Oh! Now I remember the words of the monk at Mont Saint-Michel:"Can we see the hundred-thousandth part of what exists? Look here;there is the wind which is the strongest force in nature, which knocksmen, and blows down buildings, uproots trees, raises the sea intomountains of water, destroys cliffs and casts great ships onto thebreakers; the wind which kills, which whistles, which sighs, whichroars--have you ever seen it, and can you see it? It exists for allthat, however!"

And I went on thinking: my eyes are so weak, so imperfect, that theydo not even distinguish hard bodies, if they are as transparent asglass!. . . If a glass without tinfoil behind it were to bar my way, Ishould run into it, just as a bird which has flown into a room breaksits head against the window panes. A thousand things, moreover, deceivehim and lead him astray. How should it then be surprising that hecannot perceive a fresh body which is traversed by the light?

A new being! Why not? It was assuredly bound to come! Why should we bethe last? We do not distinguish it, like all the others created beforeus. The reason is, that its nature is more perfect, its body finer andmore finished than ours, that ours is so weak, so awkwardly conceived, encumbered with organs that are always tired, always on the strain likelocks that are too complicated, which lives like a plant and like abeast, nourishing itself with difficulty on air, herbs and flesh, ananimal machine which is a prey to maladies, to malformations, to decay;broken-winded, badly regulated, simple and eccentric, ingeniously badlymade, a coarse and a delicate work, the outline of a being which mightbecome intelligent and grand. 

We are only a few, so few in this world, from the oyster up to man. Whyshould there not be one more, when once that period is accomplishedwhich separates the successive apparitions from all the differentspecies?

Why not one more? Why not, also, other trees with immense, splendidflowers, perfuming whole regions? Why not other elements besides fire, air, earth and water? There are four, only four, those nursing fathersof various beings! What a pity! Why are they not forty, four hundred, four thousand! How poor everything is, how mean and wretched!grudgingly given, dryly invented, clumsily made! Ah! the elephant andthe hippopotamus, what grace! And the camel, what elegance!

But, the butterfly you will say, a flying flower! I dream of one thatshould be as large as a hundred worlds, with wings whose shape, beauty, colors, and motion I cannot even express. But I see it . . . It fluttersfrom star to star, refreshing them and perfuming them with the lightand harmonious breath of its flight!. . . And the people up there lookat it as it passes in an ecstasy of delight!. . . 

 * * * * *

What is the matter with me? It is he, the Horla who haunts me, and whomakes me think of these foolish things! He is within me, he is becomingmy soul; I shall kill him!

_August 19th. _ I shall kill him. I have seen him! Yesterday I sat downat my table and pretended to write very assiduously. I knew quite wellthat he would come prowling round me, quite close to me, so close thatI might perhaps be able to touch him, to seize him. And then!. . . ThenI should have the strength of desperation; I should have my hands, myknees, my chest, my forehead, my teeth to strangle him, to crush him, to bite him, to tear him to pieces. And I watched for him with all myoverexcited organs. 

I had lighted my two lamps and the eight wax candles on my mantelpiece, as if by this light I could have discovered him. 

My bed, my old oak bed with its columns, was opposite to me; on myright was the fireplace; on my left the door which was carefullyclosed, after I had left it open for some time, in order to attracthim; behind me was a very high wardrobe with a looking-glass in it, which served me to make my toilet every day, and in which I was in thehabit of looking at myself from head to foot every time I passed it. 

So I pretended to be writing in order to deceive him, for he also waswatching me, and suddenly I felt, I was certain that he was readingover my shoulder, that he was there, almost touching my ear. 

I got up so quickly, with my hands extended, that I almost fell. Eh!well?. . . It was as bright as at midday, but I did not see myself inthe glass!. . . It was empty, clear, profound, full of light! But myfigure was not reflected in it . . . And I, I was opposite to it! I sawthe large, clear glass from top to bottom, and I looked at it withunsteady eyes; and I did not dare to advance; I did not venture to makea movement, nevertheless, feeling perfectly that he was there, but thathe would escape me again, he whose imperceptible body had absorbed myreflection. 

How frightened I was! And then suddenly I began to see myself through amist in the depths of the looking-glass, in a mist as it were through asheet of water; and it seemed to me as if this water were flowingslowly from left to right, and making my figure clearer every moment. It was like the end of an eclipse. Whatever it was that hid me, did notappear to possess any clearly defined outlines, but a sort of opaquetransparency, which gradually grew clearer. 

At last I was able to distinguish myself completely, as I do every daywhen I look at myself. 

I had seen it! And the horror of it remained with me and makes meshudder even now. 

_August 20th_. How could I kill it, as I could not get hold of it?Poison? But it would see me mix it with the water; and then, would ourpoisons have any effect on its impalpable body? No . . . No . . . No doubtabout the matter. . . . Then?. . . Then?. . . 

_August 21st_. I sent for a blacksmith from Rouen, and ordered ironshutters of him for my room, such as some private hotels in Paris haveon the ground floor, for fear of thieves, and he is going to make me asimilar door as well. I have made myself out as a coward, but I do notcare about that!. . . 

_September 10th_. Rouen, Hotel Continental. It is done; . . . It isdone . . . But is he dead? My mind is thoroughly upset by what I haveseen. 

Well, then, yesterday the locksmith having put on the iron shutters anddoor, I left everything open until midnight, although it was gettingcold. 

Suddenly I felt that he was there, and joy, mad joy, took possession ofme. I got up softly, and I walked to the right and left for some time, so that he might not guess anything; then I took off my boots and puton my slippers carelessly; then I fastened the iron shutters and goingback to the door quickly I double-locked it with a padlock, putting thekey into my pocket. 

Suddenly I noticed that he was moving restlessly round me, that in histurn he was frightened and was ordering me to let him out. I nearlyyielded, though I did not yet, but putting my back to the door I halfopened it, just enough to allow me to go out backward, and as I am verytall, my head touched the lintel. I was sure that he had not been ableto escape, and I shut him up quite alone, quite alone. What happiness!I had him fast. Then I ran downstairs; in the drawing-room, which wasunder my bedroom, I took the two lamps and I poured all the oil ontothe carpet, the furniture, everywhere; then I set fire to it and mademy escape, after having carefully double-locked the door. 

I went and hid myself at the bottom of the garden in a clump of laurelbushes. How long it was! how long it was! Everything was dark, silent, motionless, not a breath of air and not a star, but heavy banks ofclouds which one could not see, but which weighed, oh! so heavily on mysoul. 

I looked at my house and waited. How long it was! I already began tothink that the fire had gone out of its own accord, or that he hadextinguished it, when one of the lower windows gave way under theviolence of the flames, and a long, soft, caressing sheet of red flamemounted up the white wall and kissed it as high as the roof. The lightfell onto the trees, the branches, and the leaves, and a shiver of fearpervaded them also! The birds awoke; a dog began to howl, and it seemedto me as if the day were breaking! Almost immediately two other windowsflew into fragments, and I saw that the whole of the lower part of myhouse was nothing but a terrible furnace. But a cry, a horrible, shrill, heartrending cry, a woman's cry, sounded through the night, andtwo garret windows were opened! I had forgotten the servants! I saw theterrorstruck faces, and their frantically waving arms!. . . 

Then, overwhelmed with horror, I set off to run to the village, shouting: "Help! help! fire! fire!" I met some people who were alreadycoming onto the scene, and I went back with them to see!

By this time the house was nothing but a horrible and magnificentfuneral pile, a monstrous funeral pile which lit up the whole country, a funeral pile where men were burning, and where he was burning also, He, He, my prisoner, that new Being, the new master, the Horla!

Suddenly the whole roof fell in between the walls, and a volcano offlames darted up to the sky. Through all the windows which opened ontothat furnace I saw the flames darting, and I thought that he was there, in that kiln, dead. 

Dead? perhaps?. . . His body? Was not his body, which was transparent, indestructible by such means as would kill ours?

If he was not dead?. . . Perhaps time alone has power over thatInvisible and Redoubtable Being. Why this transparent, unrecognizablebody, this body belonging to a spirit, if it also had to fear ills, infirmities and premature destruction?

Premature destruction? All human terror springs from that! After manthe Horla. After him who can die every day, at any hour, at any moment, by any accident, he came who was only to die at his own proper hour andminute, because he had touched the limits of his existence!

No . . . No . . . Without any doubt . . . He is not dead. Then . . . Then . . . Isuppose I must kill myself!

 FOOTNOTE. --This story is a tragic experience and prophecy. It was insanity that robbed the world of its most finished short story writer, the author of this tale; and even before his madness became overpowering, de Maupassant complained that he was haunted by his double--by a vision of another Self confronting and threatening him. He had run life at its top speed; this hallucination was the result. 

 Medical science defines in such cases "an image of memory which differs in intensity from the normal"--that is to say, a fixed idea so persistent and growing that to the thinker it seems utterly real. 

 --EDITOR. 

PIERRE MILLE

_The Miracle of Zobéide_

Always wise and prudent, Zobéide cautiously put aside the myrtlebranches and peeped through to see who were the persons talking by thefountain in the cool shadow of the pink sandstone wall. And when shesaw that it was only the Rev. John Feathercock, her lord and master, discoursing as usual with Mohammed-si-Koualdia, she went toward themfrankly but slowly. 

When she was quite near she stopped, and from the light that played inher deep black eyes you would have thought that surely she waslistening with the deepest attention. But the truth is that with allher little brain, with all her mouth, and with all her stomach, she wascraving the yellow and odorous pulp of a melon which had been cut openand put on the table near two tall glasses half filled with snowysherbet. For Zobéide was a turtle of the ordinary kind found in thegrass of all the meadows around the city of Damascus. 

As she waited, Mohammed continued his story:

"And, as I tell you, O reverend one abounding in virtues, this lionwhich still lives near Tabariat, was formerly a strong lion, awonderful lion, a lion among lions! To-day, even, he can strike a cameldead with one blow of his paw, and then, plunging his fangs into thespine of the dead animal, toss it upon his shoulders with a singlemovement of his neck. But unfortunately, having one day brought down agoat in the chase by simply blowing upon it the breath of his nostrils, the lion was inflated with pride and cried: 'There is no god but God, but I am as strong as God. Let him acknowledge it!' Allah, who heardhim, Allah, the All-powerful, said in a loud voice, 'O lion ofTabariat, try now to carry off thy prey!' Then the lion planted hisgreat teeth firmly in the spine of the animal, right under the ears, and attempted to throw it on his back. Onallahi! It was as though hehad tried to lift Mount Libanus, and his right leg fell lamed to theground. And the voice of Allah still held him, declaring: 'Lion, nevermore shalt thou kill a goat!' And it has remained thus to thisday: the lion of Tabariat has still all his old-time power to carry offcamels, but he can never do the slightest harm to even a new-born kid. The goats of the flocks dance in front of him at night, deriding him tohis face, and always from that moment his right leg has been stiff andlame. "

"Mohammed, " said the Rev. Mr. Feathercock contemptuously, "these arestories fit only for babies. "

"How, then!" replied Mohammed-si-Koualdia. "Do you refuse to believethat God is able to do whatever he may wish, that the world itself isbut a perpetual dream of God's and that, in consequence, God may changethis dream at will? Are you a Christian if you deny the power of theAll-powerful?"

"I am a Christian, " replied the clergyman with a trace ofembarrassment; "but for a long time we have been obliged to admit, wepastors of the civilized Church of the Occident, that God would not beable, without belying himself, to change the order of things which heestablished when he created the universe. We consider that faith inmiracles is a superstition which we must leave to the monks of theChurches of Rome and of Russia, and also to your Mussulmans who live inignorance of the truth. And it is in order to teach you this truth thatI have come here to your country, and at the same time to fight againstthe pernicious political influence exerted by these same Romish andGreek monks of whom I have just been speaking. "

"By invoking the name of Allah, " responded Mohammed with intensesolemnity, "and by virtue of the collar-bone of the mighty Solomon, Ican perform great miracles. You see this turtle before us? I shallcause it to grow each day the breadth of a finger!"

In saying these words he made a sudden movement of his foot towardZobéide, and Zobéide promptly drew her head into her shell. 

"You claim to be able to work a miracle like that!" said the clergymanscornfully. "You, Mohammed, a man immersed in sin, a Mussulman whom Ihave seen drunk!"

"I was drunk, " replied Mohammed calmly, "but not as drunk as others. "

"So you think yourself able to force the power of Allah!" pursued Mr. Feathercock, disdaining the interruption. 

"I could do it without a moment's difficulty, " said Mohammed. 

Taking Zobéide in his hand he lifted her to the table. The frightenedturtle had again drawn in her head. Nothing could be seen but theblack-encircled golden squares of her shell against a background ofjuicy melon pulp. Mohammed chanted:

"_Thou thyself art a miracle, O turtle! For thy head is the head of aserpent, thy tail the tail of a water rat, thy bones are bird's bonesand thy covering is of stone; and yet thou knowest love as it is knownby men. And from thy eggs, O turtle of stone, other turtles comeforth_. 

"_Thou thyself art a miracle, O turtle! For one would say that thouwert a shell, naught but a shell, and behold! thou art a beast thateats. Eat of this melon, O turtle, and grow this night the length of mynail, if Allah permit!_

"_And when thou hast grown by the breadth of a finger, O turtle, eatfurther of this melon, or of its sister, another melon, and growfurther by the breadth of a finger until thou hast reached the size ofa mosque. Thou thyself art a miracle, O shell endowed with life!Perform still another miracle, if Allah permit, if Allah permit!_"

Zobéide, reassured by the monotony of his voice, decided at last tocome out of her shell. First she showed the point of her little hornynose, then her black eyes, her flat-pointed tail, and finally herstrong little claw-tipped feet. Seeing the melon, she made a gesture ofassent, and began to eat. 

"Nothing in the world will happen!" remarked the Rev. John Feathercockrather doubtfully. 

"Wait and see, " answered Mohammed gravely. "I shall come backto-morrow!"

The next morning he returned, measured Zobéide with his fingers anddeclared:

"She has grown!"

"Do you imagine you can make me believe such a thing?" cried Mr. Feathercock anxiously. 

"It is written in the Koran, " answered Mohammed: "'I swear by the rosyglow which fills the air when the sun is setting, by the shades of thenight, and by the light of the moon, that ye shall all change, insubstance and in size!' Allah has manifested himself; the size of thisturtle has changed. It will continue to change. Measure it yourself andyou will see. "

Mr. Feathercock did measure Zobéide, and was forced to admit that shehad indeed grown the breadth of a finger. He became thoughtful. 

Thus day by day Zobéide grew in size, in vigor and in appetite. Atfirst she had only been as big as a saucer, and took each day but a fewounces of nourishment. Then she reached the size of a dessert plate, then of a soup plate. With her strong beak she could split the rind ofa melon at a blow; distinctly could be heard the sound of her heavyjaws as she crunched the sweet pulp of the fruits which she loved, andwhich she devoured in great quantities. In one week she had grown sotremendously that she was as big as a meat platter. The Rev. Mr. Feathercock no longer dared to go near this monster, from whose eyesseemed to glisten a look of deviltry. And, always and forever, apparently devoured by a perpetual hunger, the monster ate. 

The members of Mr. Feathercock's flock came to hear that he was keepingin his house a turtle that had been enchanted in the name of Allah andnot by the power of the Occidental Divinity: this proved to be anythingbut helpful to the evangelical labors of the clergyman. But he himselfrefused steadily and obstinately to believe in the miracle, althoughMohammed-si-Koualdia had never set foot in the house since the day whenhe had invoked the charm. He remained outside the grounds, seated atthe door of a little café, plunged in meditation or in dreams, andconsuming hashish in large quantities. At the end of some time Mr. Feathercock succeeded in persuading himself that what he was witnessingwas nothing more nor less than a perfectly simple and naturalphenomenon, perhaps not well understood hitherto, and due entirely tothe extraordinarily favorable action of melon pulp on the physicaldevelopment of turtles. He decided to cut off Zobéide's supply ofmelons. 

Finally there came a day when Mohammed, drunk with hashish, saw Hakem, Mr. Feathercock's valet, returning from market with a large bunch offresh greens. He rose majestically, though with features distorted bythe drug, and followed the boy with hasty steps. 

"Miserable one!" cried he to Mr. Feathercock. "Wretched worm, you havetried to break the charm! Rejoice then, for you have succeeded and itis broken. But let despair follow upon the heels of your rapture, forit is broken in a way that you do not dream. Henceforth your turtleshall _dwindle away_ day by day!"

The Rev. Mr. Feathercock tried to laugh, but he did not feel entirelyhappy. On Sundays, at the services, the few faithful souls who remainedin his flock looked upon him with suspicion. At the English consulatethey spoke very plainly, telling him unsympathetically that anyone whowould make a friend of such a man as Mohammed-si-Koualdia and who wouldmingle "promiscuously" with such rabble, need look for nothing but harmfrom it. 

Zobéide, when she was first confronted with the fresh, damp greens, showed the most profound contempt for them. Unquestionably shepreferred melons. Mr. Feathercock applauded his own acumen. "She waseating too much; that was the whole trouble, " he said to himself. "Andthat was what made her grow so remarkably. If she eats less she willprobably not grow so much. And if she should happen to die, I shall berid of her. Whatever comes, it will be for the best. "

But the next day Zobéide gave up pouting and began very docilely to eatthe greens, and when the boy Hakem carried her next bunch to her hesaid slyly:

"Effendi, she is growing smaller!"

The clergyman attempted to shrug his shoulders, but it was impossibleto disguise the fact from himself--Zobéide had certainly shrunk! Andwithin an hour all Damascus knew that Zobéide had shrunk. When Mr. Feathercock went to the barber shop the Greek barber said to him, "Sir, your turtle is no ordinary turtle!" When he went to call on Mrs. Hollingshead, a lady who was always intensely interested in allsubjects that she failed to understand and who discussed them with abeautiful freedom, she said to him: "Dear sir, your turtle. Howexciting it must be to watch it shrink! I am certainly coming to see itmyself. " When he went to the Anglican Orphanage, all the littleSyrians, all the little Arabs, all the little Armenians, all the littleJews, drew turtles in their copy-books, turtles of every size and everydescription, the big ones walking behind the little ones, the tail ofeach in the mouth of another, making an interminable line. And in thestreet the donkey drivers, the water-carriers, the fishmongers, thevenders of broiled meats, of baked breads, of beans, of cream, allcried: "Mister Turtle, Mister Turtle! Try our wares. Buy something foryour poor stubborn beast that is pining away!"

And, in truth, the turtle continued to shrink. She became again thesize of a soup plate, then of a dessert plate, then of a saucer, tillfinally one morning there was nothing there but a little round thing, tiny, frail, translucent, a spot about as big as a lady's watch, almostinvisible at the base of the fountain. And the next day--ah! the nextday there was nothing there, nothing whatever, neither turtle nor theshadow of turtle, or more trace of a turtle than of an elephant in allthe grounds!

Mohammed-si-Koualdia had stopped taking hashish, because he wassaturated with it. But he remained all day long, huddled in a heap atthe door of the little café immediately opposite the clergyman's house, his eyes enlarged out of all proportion, set in a face the color ofdeath, gave him the look of a veritable sorcerer. At this moment theRev. Mr. Feathercock was returning from a visit to the English consulwho had said to him coldly:

"All that I can tell you is that you have made an ass of yourself or, as a Frenchman would say, played the donkey to hear yourself bray. Thebest thing you can do is to go and hunt up a congregation somewhereelse. "

The Rev. John Feathercock accepted the advice with deference, and tookthe train for Bayreuth. That same evening Mohammed-si-Koualdia betookhimself to the house of one Antonio, interpreter and public scribe, andordered him to translate into French the following letter, which hedictated in Arabic. Afterwards he carried this letter to FatherStephen, prior to the monastery of the Greek Hicrosolymites:

"May heaven paint your cheeks with the colors of health, most venerablefather, and may happiness reign in your heart! I have the honor toinform you that the Rev. John Feathercock has just left for Bayreuth, but that he has had put upon his trunks the address of a city calledLiverpool, which, I am informed, is in the kingdom of England; andalso, everything points to the belief that he will never return. Therefore, I dare to hope that you will send me the second part of thereward you agreed upon as well as a generous present for Hakem, Mr. Feathercock's valet, who carried every day a new turtle to the house ofthe clergyman, and carried away the old one under his cloak. 

"I also pray you to tell your friends that I have for sale, at pricesexceptionally low, fifty-five turtles, all of different sizes, the lastand smallest of which is no larger than the watch of a European_houri_. I have been at infinite pains to find them, and they haveserved to prove to me with what exquisite care Allah fashions themembers of the least of His creatures and ornaments their bodies withthe most delicate designs. "

VILLIERS DE L'ISLE ADAM

_The Torture by Hope_

Many years ago, as evening was closing in, the venerable Pedro Arbuezd'Espila, sixth prior of the Dominicans of Segovia, and third GrandInquisitor of Spain, followed by a _fra redemptor_, and preceded by twofamiliars of the Holy Office, the latter carrying lanterns, made theirway to a subterranean dungeon. The bolt of a massive door creaked, andthey entered a mephitic _in-pace_, where the dim light revealed betweenrings fastened to the wall a bloodstained rack, a brazier, and a jug. On a pile of straw, loaded with fetters and his neck encircled by aniron carcan, sat a haggard man, of uncertain age, clothed in rags. 

This prisoner was no other than Rabbi Aser Abarbanel, a Jew of Arragon, who--accused of usury and pitiless scorn for the poor--had been dailysubjected to torture for more than a year. Yet "his blindness was asdense as his hide, " and he had refused to abjure his faith. 

Proud of a filiation dating back thousands of years, proud of hisancestors--for all Jews worthy of the name are vain of their blood--hedescended Talmudically from Othoniel and consequently from Ipsiboa, thewife of the last judge of Israel, a circumstance which had sustainedhis courage amid incessant torture. With tears in his eyes at thethought of this resolute soul rejecting salvation, the venerable PedroArbuez d'Espila, approaching the shuddering rabbi, addressed him asfollows:

"My son, rejoice: your trials here below are about to end. If in thepresence of such obstinacy I was forced to permit, with deep regret, the use of great severity, my task of fraternal correction has itslimits. You are the fig tree which, having failed so many times to bearfruit, at last withered, but God alone can judge your soul. PerhapsInfinite Mercy will shine upon you at the last moment! We must hope so. There are examples. So sleep in peace to-night. Tomorrow you will beincluded in the _auto da fé_: that is, you will be exposed to the_quémadero_, the symbolical flames of the Everlasting Fire: it burns, as you know, only at a distance, my son; and Death is at least twohours (often three) in coming, on account of the wet, iced bandages, with which we protect the heads and hearts of the condemned. There willbe forty-three of you. Placed in the last row, you will have time toinvoke God and offer to Him this baptism of fire, which is of the HolySpirit. Hope in the Light, and rest. "

With these words, having signed to his companions to unchain theprisoner, the prior tenderly embraced him. Then came the turn of the_fra redemptor_, who, in a low tone, entreated the Jew's forgivenessfor what he had made him suffer for the purpose of redeeming him; thenthe two familiars silently kissed him. This ceremony over, the captivewas left, solitary and bewildered, in the darkness. 

 * * * * *

Rabbi Aser Abarbanel, with parched lips and visage worn by suffering, at first gazed at the closed door with vacant eyes. Closed? The wordunconsciously roused a vague fancy in his mind, the fancy that he hadseen for an instant the light of the lanterns through a chink betweenthe door and the wall. A morbid idea of hope, due to the weakness ofhis brain, stirred his whole being. He dragged himself toward thestrange _appearance_. Then, very gently and cautiously, slipping onefinger into the crevice, he drew the door toward him. Marvelous! By anextraordinary accident the familiar who closed it had turned the hugekey an instant before it struck the stone casing, so that the rustybolt not having entered the hole, the door again rolled on its hinges. 

The rabbi ventured to glance outside. By the aid of a sort of luminousdusk he distinguished at first a semicircle of walls indented bywinding stairs; and opposite to him, at the top of five or six stonesteps, a sort of black portal, opening into an immense corridor, whosefirst arches only were visible from below. 

Stretching himself flat he crept to the threshold. Yes, it was really acorridor, but endless in length. A wan light illumined it: lampssuspended from the vaulted ceiling lightened at intervals the dull hueof the atmosphere--the distance was veiled in shadow. Not a single doorappeared in the whole extent! Only on one side, the left, heavilygrated loopholes, sunk in the walls, admitted a light which must bethat of evening, for crimson bars at intervals rested on the flags ofthe pavement. What a terrible silence! Yet, yonder, at the far end ofthat passage there might be a doorway of escape! The Jew's vacillatinghope was tenacious, for it was _the last_. 

Without hesitating, he ventured on the flags, keeping close under theloopholes, trying to make himself part of the blackness of the longwalls. He advanced slowly, dragging himself along on his breast, forcing back the cry of pain when some raw wound sent a keen pangthrough his whole body. 

Suddenly the sound of a sandaled foot approaching reached his ears. Hetrembled violently, fear stifled him, his sight grew dim. Well, it wasover, no doubt. He pressed himself into a niche and, half lifeless withterror, waited. 

It was a familiar hurrying along. He passed swiftly by, holding in hisclenched hand an instrument of torture--a frightful figure--andvanished. The suspense which the rabbi had endured seemed to havesuspended the functions of life, and he lay nearly an hour unable tomove. Fearing an increase of tortures if he were captured, he thoughtof returning to his dungeon. But the old hope whispered in his soulthat divine _perhaps_, which comforts us in our sorest trials. Amiracle had happened. He could doubt no longer. He began to crawltoward the chance of escape. Exhausted by suffering and hunger, trembling with pain, he pressed onward. The sepulchral corridor seemedto lengthen mysteriously, while he, still advancing, gazed into thegloom where there _must_ be some avenue of escape. 

Oh! oh! He again heard footsteps, but this time they were slower, moreheavy. The white and black forms of two inquisitors appeared, emergingfrom the obscurity beyond. They were conversing in low tones, andseemed to be discussing some important subject, for they weregesticulating vehemently. 

At this spectacle Rabbi Aser Abarbanel closed his eyes: his heart beatso violently that it almost suffocated him; his rags were damp with thecold sweat of agony; he lay motionless by the wall, his mouth wideopen, under the rays of a lamp, praying to the God of David. 

Just opposite to him the two inquisitors paused under the light of thelamp--doubtless owing to some accident due to the course of theirargument. One, while listening to his companion, gazed at the rabbi!And, beneath the look--whose absence of expression the hapless man didnot at first notice--he fancied he again felt the burning pincersscorch his flesh, he was to be once more a living wound. Fainting, breathless, with fluttering eyelids, he shivered at the touch of themonk's floating robe. But--strange yet natural fact--the inquisitor'sgaze was evidently that of a man deeply absorbed in his intended reply, engrossed by what he was hearing; his eyes were fixed--and seemed tolook at the Jew _without seeing him_. 

In fact, after the lapse of a few minutes, the two gloomy figuresslowly pursued their way, still conversing in low tones, toward theplace whence the prisoner had come; HE HAD NOT BEEN SEEN! Amid thehorrible confusion of the rabbi's thoughts, the idea darted throughhis brain: "Can I be already dead that they did not see me?" A hideousimpression roused him from his lethargy: in looking at the wallagainst which his face was pressed, he imagined he beheld two fierceeyes watching him! He flung his head back in a sudden frenzy offright, his hair fairly bristling! Yet, no! No. His hand groped overthe stones: it was the _reflection_ of the inquisitor's eyes, stillretained in his own, which had been refracted from two spots on thewall. 

Forward! He must hasten toward that goal which he fancied (absurdly, nodoubt) to be deliverance, toward the darkness from which he was nowbarely thirty paces distant. He pressed forward faster on his knees, his hands, at full length, dragging himself painfully along, and soonentered the dark portion of this terrible corridor. 

Suddenly the poor wretch felt a gust of cold air on the hands restingupon the flags; it came from under the little door to which the twowalls led. 

Oh, Heaven, if that door should open outward. Every nerve in themiserable fugitive's body thrilled with hope. He examined it from topto bottom, though scarcely able to distinguish its outlines in thesurrounding darkness. He passed his hand over it: no bolt, no lock! Alatch! He started up, the latch yielded to the pressure of his thumb:the door silently swung open before him. 

"HALLELUIA!" murmured the rabbi in a transport of gratitude as, standing on the threshold, he beheld the scene before him. 

The door had opened into the gardens, above which arched a starlitsky, into spring, liberty, life! It revealed the neighboring fields, stretching toward the sierras, whose sinuous blue lines were relievedagainst the horizon. Yonder lay freedom! Oh, to escape! He wouldjourney all night through the lemon groves, whose fragrance reachedhim. Once in the mountains and he was safe! He inhaled the deliciousair; the breeze revived him, his lungs expanded! He felt in hisswelling heart the _Veni foràs_ of Lazarus! And to thank once more theGod who had bestowed this mercy upon him, he extended his arms, raising his eyes toward Heaven. It was an ecstasy of joy!

Then he fancied he saw the shadow of his arms approach him--fanciedthat he felt these shadowy arms inclose, embrace him--and that he waspressed tenderly to some one's breast. A tall figure actually didstand directly before him. He lowered his eyes--and remainedmotionless, gasping for breath, dazed, with fixed eyes, fairlydriveling with terror. 

Horror! He was in the clasp of the Grand Inquisitor himself, thevenerable Pedro Arbuez d'Espila, who gazed at him with tearful eyes, like a good shepherd who had found his stray lamb. 

The dark-robed priest pressed the hapless Jew to his heart with sofervent an outburst of love, that the edges of the monochal hairclothrubbed the Dominican's breast. And while Aser Abarbanel withprotruding eyes gasped in agony in the ascetic's embrace, vaguelycomprehending that _all the phases of this fatal evening were only aprearranged torture, that of_ HOPE, the Grand Inquisitor, with anaccent of touching reproach and a look of consternation, murmured inhis ear, his breath parched and burning from long fasting:

"What, my son! On the eve, perchance, of salvation--you wished to leaveus?"

ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN

_The Owl's Ear_

On the 29th of July, 1835, Kasper Boeck, a shepherd of the littlevillage of Hirschwiller, with his large felt hat tipped back, hiswallet of stringy sackcloth hanging at his hip, and his great tawny dogat his heels, presented himself at about nine o'clock in the evening atthe house of the burgomaster, Petrus Mauerer, who had just finishedsupper and was taking a little glass of kirchwasser to facilitatedigestion. 

This burgomaster was a tall, thin man, and wore a bushy gray mustache. He had seen service in the armies of the Archduke Charles. He had ajovial disposition, and ruled the village, it is said, with his fingerand with the rod. 

"Mr. Burgomaster, " cried the shepherd in evident excitement. 

But Petrus Mauerer, without awaiting the end of his speech, frowned andsaid:

"Kasper Boeck, begin by taking off your hat, put your dog out of theroom, and then speak distinctly, intelligibly, without stammering, sothat I may understand you. "

Hereupon the burgomaster, standing near the table, tranquilly emptiedhis little glass and wiped his great gray mustachios indifferently. 

Kasper put his dog out, and came back with his hat off. 

"Well!" said Petrus, seeing that he was silent, "what has happened?"

"It happens that the _spirit_ has appeared again in the ruins ofGeierstein!"

"Ha! I doubt it. You've seen it yourself?"

"Very clearly, Mr. Burgomaster. "

"Without closing your eyes?"

"Yes, Mr. Burgomaster--my eyes were wide open. There was plenty ofmoonlight. "

"What form did it have?"

"The form of a small man. "

"Good!"

And turning toward a glass door at the left:

"Katel!" cried the burgomaster. 

An old serving woman opened the door. 

"Sir?"

"I am going out for a walk--on the hillside--sit up for me until teno'clock. Here's the key. "

"Yes, sir. "

Then the old soldier took down his gun from the hook over the door, examined the priming, and slung it over his shoulder; then he addressedKasper Boeck:

"Go and tell the rural guard to meet me in the holly path, and tell himbehind the mill. Your _spirit_ must be some marauder. But if it's afox, I'll make a fine hood of it, with long earlaps. "

Master Petrus Mauerer and humble Kasper then went out. The weather wassuperb, the stars innumerable. While the shepherd went to knock at therural guard's door, the burgomaster plunged among the elder bushes, ina little lane that wound around behind the old church. 

Two minutes later Kasper and Hans Goerner, whinger at his side, byrunning overtook Master Petrus in the holly path. 

All three made their way together toward the ruins of Geierstein. 

These ruins, which are twenty minutes' walk from the village, seem tobe insignificant enough; they consist of the ridges of a few decrepitwalls, from four to six feet high, which extend among the brier bushes. Archaeologists call them the aqueducts of Seranus, the Roman camp ofHolderlock, or vestiges of Theodoric, according to their fantasy. Theonly thing about these ruins which could be considered remarkable is astairway to a cistern cut in the rock. Inside of this spiral staircase, instead of concentric circles which twist around with each completeturn, the involutions become wider as they proceed, in such a way thatthe bottom of the pit is three times as large as the opening. Is it anarchitectural freak, or did some reasonable cause determine such an oddconstruction? It matters little to us. The result was to cause in thecistern that vague reverberation which anyone may hear upon placing ashell at his ear, and to make you aware of steps on the gravel path, murmurs of the air, rustling of the leaves, and even distant wordsspoken by people passing the foot of the hill. 

Our three personages then followed the pathway between the vineyardsand gardens of Hirschwiller. 

"I see nothing, " the burgomaster would say, turning up his nosederisively. 

"Nor I either, " the rural guard would repeat, imitating the other'stone. 

"It's down in the hole, " muttered the shepherd. 

"We shall see, we shall see, " returned the burgomaster. 

It was in this fashion, after a quarter of an hour, that they came uponthe opening of the cistern. As I have said, the night was clear, limpid, and perfectly still. 

The moon portrayed, as far as the eye could reach, one of thosenocturnal landscapes in bluish lines, studded with slim trees, theshadows of which seemed to have been drawn with a black crayon. Theblooming brier and broom perfumed the air with a rather sharp odor, andthe frogs of a neighboring swamp sang their oily anthem, interspersedwith silences. But all these details escaped the notice of our goodrustics; they thought of nothing but laying hands on the _spirit_. 

When they had reached the stairway, all three stopped and listened, then gazed into the dark shadows. Nothing appeared--nothing stirred. 

"The devil!" said the burgomaster, "we forgot to bring a bit of candle. Descend, Kasper, you know the way better than I--I'll follow you. "

At this proposition the shepherd recoiled promptly. If he had consultedhis inclinations the poor man would have taken to flight; his pitifulexpression made the burgomaster burst out laughing. 

"Well, Hans, since he doesn't want to go down, show me the way, " hesaid to the game warden. 

"But, Mr. Burgomaster, " said the latter, "you know very well that stepsare missing; we should risk breaking our necks. "

"Then what's to be done?"

"Yes, what's to be done?"

"Send your dog, " replied Petrus. 

The shepherd whistled to his dog, showed him the stairway, urgedhim--but he did not wish to take the chances any more than the others. 

At this moment, a bright idea struck the rural guardsman. 

"Ha! Mr. Burgomaster, " said he, "if you should fire your gun inside. "

"Faith, " cried the other, "you're right, we shall catch a glimpse atleast. "

And without hesitating the worthy man approached the stairway andleveled his gun. 

But, by the acoustic effect which I have already pointed out, the_spirit_, the marauder, the individual who chanced to be actually inthe cistern, had heard everything. The idea of stopping a gunshot didnot strike him as amusing, for in a shrill, piercing voice he cried:

"Stop! Don't fire--I'm coming. "

Then the three functionaries looked at each other and laughed softly, and the burgomaster, leaning over the opening again, cried rudely:

"Be quick about it, you varlet, or I'll shoot! Be quick about it!"

He cocked his gun, and the click seemed to hasten the ascent of themysterious person; they heard him rolling down some stones. Nevertheless it still took him another minute before he appeared, thecistern being at a depth of sixty feet. 

What was this man doing in such deep darkness? He must be some greatcriminal! So at least thought Petrus Mauerer and his acolytes. 

At last a vague form could be discerned in the dark, then slowly, bydegrees, a little man, four and a half feet high at the most, frail, ragged, his face withered and yellow, his eye gleaming like a magpie's, and his hair tangled, came out shouting:

"By what right do you come to disturb my studies, wretched creatures?"

This grandiose apostrophe was scarcely in accord with his costume andphysiognomy. Accordingly the burgomaster indignantly replied:

"Try to show that you're honest, you knave, or I'll begin byadministering a correction. "

"A correction!" said the little man, leaping with anger, and drawinghimself up under the nose of the burgomaster. 

"Yes, " replied the other, who, nevertheless, did not fail to admire thepygmy's courage; "if you do not answer the questions satisfactorily Iam going to put to you. I am the burgomaster of Hirschwiller; here arethe rural guard, the shepherd and his dog. We are stronger than you--bewise and tell me peaceably who you are, what you are doing here, andwhy you do not dare to appear in broad daylight. Then we shall seewhat's to be done with you. "

"All that's none of your business, " replied the little man in hiscracked voice. "I shall not answer. "

"In that case, forward, march, " ordered the burgomaster, who graspedhim firmly by the nape of the neck; "you are going to sleep in prison. "

The little man writhed like a weasel; he even tried to bite, and thedog was sniffing at the calves of his legs, when, quite exhausted, hesaid, not without a certain dignity:

"Let go, sir, I surrender to superior force--I'm yours!"

The burgomaster, who was not entirely lacking in good breeding, becamecalmer. 

"Do you promise?" said he. 

"I promise!"

"Very well--walk in front. "

And that is how, on the night of the 29th of July, 1835, theburgomaster took captive a little red-haired man, issuing from thecavern of Geierstein. 

Upon arriving at Hirschwiller the rural guard ran to find the key ofthe prison and the vagabond was locked in and double-locked, not toforget the outside bolt and padlock. 

Everyone then could repose after his fatigues, and Petrus Mauerer wentto bed and dreamed till midnight of this singular adventure. 

On the morrow, toward nine o'clock, Hans Goerner, the rural guard, having been ordered to bring the prisoner to the town house for anotherexamination, repaired to the cooler with four husky daredevils. Theyopened the door, all of them curious to look upon the Will-o'-the-wisp. But imagine their astonishment upon seeing him hanging from the bars ofthe window by his necktie! Some said that he was still writhing; othersthat he was already stiff. However that may be, they ran to PetrusMauerer's house to inform him of the fact, and what is certain is thatupon the latter's arrival the little man had breathed his last. 

The justice of the peace and the doctor of Hirschwiller drew up aformal statement of the catastrophe; then they buried the unknown in afield of meadow grass and it was all over!

Now about three weeks after these occurrences, I went to see my cousin, Petrus Mauerer, whose nearest relative I was, and consequently hisheir. This circumstance sustained an intimate acquaintance between us. We were at dinner, talking on indifferent matters, when the burgomasterrecounted the foregoing little story, as I have just reported it. 

"'Tis strange, cousin, " said I, "truly strange. And you have no otherinformation concerning the unknown?"

"None. "

"And you have found nothing which could give you a clew as to hispurpose?"

"Absolutely nothing, Christian. "

"But, as a matter of fact, what could he have been doing in thecistern? On what did he live?"

The burgomaster shrugged his shoulders, refilled our glasses, andreplied with:

"To your health, cousin. "

"To yours. "

We remained silent a few minutes. It was impossible for me to acceptthe abrupt conclusion of the adventure, and, in spite of myself, Imused with some melancholy on the sad fate of certain men who appearand disappear in this world like the grass of the field, withoutleaving the least memory or the least regret. 

"Cousin, " I resumed, "how far may it be from here to the ruins ofGeierstein?"

"Twenty minutes' walk at the most. Why?"

"Because I should like to see them. "

"You know that we have a meeting of the municipal council, and that Ican't accompany you. "

"Oh! I can find them by myself. "

"No, the rural guard will show you the way; he has nothing better todo. "

And my worthy cousin, having rapped on his glass, called his servant:

"Katel, go and find Hans Goerner--let him hurry, and get here by twoo'clock. I must be going. "

The servant went out and the rural guard was not tardy in coming. 

He was directed to take me to the ruins. 

While the burgomaster proceeded gravely toward the hall of themunicipal council, we were already climbing the hill. Hans Goerner, with a wave of the hand, indicated the remains of the aqueduct. At thesame moment the rocky ribs of the plateau, the blue distances ofHundsrück, the sad crumbling walls covered with somber ivy, the tollingof the Hirschwiller bell summoning the notables to the council, therural guardsman panting and catching at the brambles--assumed in myeyes a sad and severe tinge, for which I could not account: it was thestory of the hanged man which took the color out of the prospect. 

The cistern staircase struck me as being exceedingly curious, with itselegant spiral. The bushes bristling in the fissures at every step, thedeserted aspect of its surroundings, all harmonized with my sadness. Wedescended, and soon the luminous point of the opening, which seemed tocontract more and more, and to take the shape of a star with curvedrays, alone sent us its pale light. When we attained the very bottom ofthe cistern, we found a superb sight was to be had of all those steps, lighted from above and cutting off their shadows with marvelousprecision. I then heard the hum of which I have already spoken: theimmense granite conch had as many echoes as stones!

"Has nobody been down here since the little man?" I asked the ruralguardsman. 

"No, sir. The peasants are afraid. They imagine that the hanged manwill return. "

"And you?"

"I--oh, I'm not curious. "

"But the justice of the peace? His duty was to--"

"Ha! What could he have come to the _Owl's Ear_ for?"

"They call this the _Owl's Ear_?"

"Yes. "

"That's pretty near it, " said I, raising my eyes. "This reversed vaultforms the _pavilion_ well enough; the under side of the steps makes thecovering of the _tympanum_, and the winding of the staircase the_cochlea_, the _labyrinth_, and _vestibule_ of the ear. That is thecause of the murmur which we hear: we are at the back of a colossalear. "

"It's very likely, " said Hans Goerner, who did not seem to haveunderstood my observations. 

We started up again, and I had ascended the first steps when I feltsomething crush under my foot; I stopped to see what it could be, andat that moment perceived a white object before me. It was a torn sheetof paper. As for the hard object, which I had felt grinding up, Irecognized it as a sort of glazed earthenware jug. 

"Aha!" I said to myself; "this may clear up the burgomaster's story. "

I rejoined Hans Goerner, who was now waiting for me at the edge of thepit. 

"Now, sir, " cried he, "where would you like to go?"

"First, let's sit down for a while. We shall see presently. "

I sat down on a large stone, while the rural guard cast his falconeyes over the village to see if there chanced to be any trespassers inthe gardens. I carefully examined the glazed vase, of which nothingbut splinters remained. These fragments presented the appearance of afunnel, lined with wool. It was impossible for me to perceive itspurpose. I then read the piece of a letter, written in an easy runningand firm hand. I transcribe it here below, word for word. It seems tofollow the other half of the sheet, for which I looked vainly allabout the ruins:

"My _micracoustic_ ear trumpet thus has the double advantage ofinfinitely multiplying the intensity of sounds, and of introducingthem into the ear without causing the observer the least discomfort. You would never have imagined, dear master, the charm which one feelsin perceiving these thousands of imperceptible sounds which areconfounded, on a fine summer day, in an immense murmuring. Thebumble-bee has his song as well as the nightingale, the honey-bee isthe warbler of the mosses, the cricket is the lark of the tall grass, the maggot is the wren--it has only a sigh, but the sigh is melodious!

"This discovery, from the point of view of sentiment, which makes uslive in the universal life, surpasses in its importance all that Icould say on the matter. 

"After so much suffering, privations, and weariness, how happy it makesone to reap the rewards of all his labors! How the soul soars towardthe divine Author of all these microscopic worlds, the magnificence ofwhich is revealed to us! Where now are the long hours of anguish, hunger, contempt, which overwhelmed us before? Gone, sir, gone! Tearsof gratitude moisten our eyes. One is proud to have achieved, throughsuffering, new joys for humanity and to have contributed to its mentaldevelopment. But howsoever vast, howsoever admirable may be the firstfruits of my _micracoustic_ ear trumpet, these do not delimit itsadvantages. There are more positive ones, more material, and ones whichmay be expressed in figures. 

"Just as the telescope brought the discovery of myriads of worldsperforming their harmonious revolutions in infinite space--so also willmy _micracoustic_ ear trumpet extend the sense of the unbearable beyondall possible bounds. Thus, sir, the circulation of the blood and thefluids of the body will not give me pause; you shall hear them flowwith the impetuosity of cataracts; you shall perceive them sodistinctly as to startle you; the slightest irregularity of the pulse, the least obstacle, is striking, and produces the same effect as a rockagainst which the waves of a torrent are dashing!

"It is doubtless an immense conquest in the development of ourknowledge of physiology and pathology, but this is not the point onwhich I would emphasize. Upon applying your ear to the ground, sir, youmay hear the mineral waters springing up at immeasurable depths; youmay judge of their volume, their currents, and the obstacles which theymeet!

"Do you wish to go further? Enter a subterranean vault which is soconstructed as to gather a quantity of loud sounds; then at night whenthe world sleeps, when nothing will be confused with the interiornoises of our globe--listen!

"Sir, all that it is possible for me to tell you at the presentmoment--for in the midst of my profound misery, of my privations, andoften of my despair, I am left only a few lucid instants to pursue mygeological observations--all that I can affirm is that the seething ofglow worms, the explosions of boiling fluids, is something terrifyingand sublime, which can only be compared to the impression of theastronomer whose glass fathoms depths of limitless extent. 

"Nevertheless, I must avow that these impressions should be studiedfurther and classified in a methodical manner, in order that definiteconclusions may be derived therefrom. Likewise, as soon as you shallhave deigned, dear and noble master, to transmit the little sum for useat Neustadt as I asked, to supply my first needs, we shall see our wayto an understanding in regard to the establishment of three greatsubterranean observatories, one in the valley of Catania, another inIceland, then a third in Capac-Uren, Songay, or Cayembé-Uren, thedeepest of the Cordilleras, and consequently--"

Here the letter stopped. 

I let my hands fall in stupefaction. Had I read the conceptions of anidiot--or the inspirations of a genius which had been realized? What amI to say? to think? So this man, this miserable creature, living at thebottom of a burrow like a fox, dying of hunger, had had perhaps one ofthose inspirations which the Supreme Being sends on earth to enlightenfuture generations!

And this man had hanged himself in disgust, despair! No one hadanswered his prayer, though he asked only for a crust of bread inexchange for his discovery. It was horrible. Long, long I sat theredreaming, thanking Heaven for having limited my intelligence to theneeds of ordinary life--for not having desired to make me a superiorman in the community of martyrs. At length the rural guardsman, seeingme with fixed gaze and mouth agape, made so bold as to touch me on theshoulder. 

"Mr. Christian, " said he, "see--it's getting late--the burgomaster musthave come back from the council. "

"Ha! That's a fact, " cried I, crumpling up the paper, "come on. "

We descended the hill. 

My worthy cousin met me, with a smiling face, at the threshold of hishouse. 

"Well! well! Christian, so you've found no trace of the imbecile whohanged himself?"

"No. "

"I thought as much. He was some lunatic who escaped from Stefansfeld orsomewhere--Faith, he did well to hang himself. When one is good fornothing, that's the simplest way for it. "

The following day I left Hirschwiller. I shall never return. 

_The Invisible Eye_

About this time (said Christian), poor as a church mouse, I took refugein the roof of an old house in Minnesänger Street, Nuremberg, and mademy nest in the corner of the garret. 

I was compelled to work over my straw bed to reach the window, but thiswindow was in the gable end, and the view from it was magnificent, bothtown and country being spread out before me. 

I could see the cats walking gravely in the gutters; the storks, theirbeaks filled with frogs, carrying nourishment to their ravenous brood;the pigeons, springing from their cotes, their tails spread like fans, hovering over the streets. 

In the evening, when the bells called the world to the Angelus, with myelbows upon the edge of the roof, I listened to their melancholychimes; I watched the windows as, one by one, they were lighted up; thegood burghers smoking their pipes on the sidewalks; the young girls intheir red skirts, with their pitchers under their arms, laughing andchatting around the fountain "Saint Sebalt. " Insensibly all this fadedaway, the bats commenced their rapid course, and I retired to mymattress in sweet peace and tranquillity. 

The old curiosity seller, Toubac, knew the way to my little lodging aswell as I did, and was not afraid to climb the ladder. Every week hisugly head, adorned with a reddish cap, raised the trapdoor, his fingersgrasped the ledge, and he cried out in a nasal tone:

"Well, well, Master Christian, have you anything?"

To which I replied:

"Come in. Why in the devil don't you come in? I am just finishing alittle landscape, and you must tell me what you think of it. "

Then his great back, seeming to elongate, grew up, even to the roof, and the good man laughed silently. 

I must do justice to Toubac: he never haggled with me about prices; hebought all my paintings at fifteen florins, one with the other, andsold them again for forty each. "This was an honest Jew!"

I began to grow fond of this mode of existence, and to find new charmsin it day by day. 

Just at this time the city of Nuremberg was agitated by a strange andmysterious event. Not far from my dormer window, a little to the left, stood the Inn Boeuf-Gras, an old _auberge_ much patronized throughoutthe country. Three or four wagons, filled with sacks or casks, werealways drawn up before the door, where the rustic drivers were in thehabit of stopping, on their way to the market, to take their morningdraught of wine. 

The gable end of the inn was distinguished by its peculiar form. It wasvery narrow, pointed, and, on two sides, cut-in teeth, like a saw. Thecarvings were strangely grotesque, interwoven and ornamenting thecornices and surrounding the windows; but the most remarkable fact wasthat the house opposite reproduced exactly the same sculptures, thesame ornaments; even the signboard, with its post and spiral of iron, was exactly copied. 

One might have thought that these two ancient houses reflected eachother. Behind the inn, however, was a grand old oak, whose somberleaves darkened the stones of the roof, while the other house stood outin bold relief against the sky. To complete the description, this oldbuilding was as silent and dreary as the Inn Boeuf-Gras was noisy andanimated. 

On one side, a crowd of merry drinkers were continually entering in andgoing out, singing, tripping, cracking their whips; on the other, profound silence reigned. 

Perhaps, once or twice during the day, the heavy door seemed to open ofitself, to allow a little old woman to go out, with her back almost ina semicircle, her dress fitting tight about her hips, an enormousbasket on her arm, and her hand contracted against her breast. 

It seemed to me that I saw at a glance, as I looked upon her, a wholeexistence of good works and pious meditations. 

The physiognomy of this old woman had struck me more than once: herlittle green eyes, long, thin nose, the immense bouquets of flowers onher shawl, which must have been at least a hundred years old, thewithered smile which puckered her cheeks into a cockade, the lace ofher bonnet falling down to her eyebrows--all this was fantastic, andinterested me much. Why did this old woman live in this great desertedhouse? I wished to explore the mystery. 

One day as I paused in the street and followed her with my eyes, sheturned suddenly and gave me a look, the horrible expression of which Iknow not how to paint; made three or four hideous grimaces, and then, letting her palsied head fall upon her breast, drew her great shawlclosely around her, and advanced slowly to the heavy door, behind whichI saw her disappear. 

"She's an old fool!" I said to myself, in a sort of stupor. My faith, it was the height of folly in me to be interested in her!

However, I would like to see her grimace again; old Toubac wouldwillingly give me fifteen florins if I could paint it for him. 

I must confess that these pleasantries of mine did not entirelyreassure me. 

The hideous glance which the old shrew had given me pursued meeverywhere. More than once, while climbing the almost perpendicularladder to my loft, feeling my clothing caught on some point, I trembledfrom head to foot, imagining that the old wretch was hanging to thetails of my coat in order to destroy me. 

Toubac, to whom I related this adventure, was far from laughing at it;indeed, he assumed a grave and solemn air. 

"Master Christian, " said he, "if the old woman wants you, take care!Her teeth are small, pointed, and of marvelous whiteness, and that isnot natural at her age. She has an 'evil eye. ' Children flee from her, and the people of Nuremberg call her 'Fledermausse. '"

I admired the clear, sagacious intellect of the Jew, and his words gaveme cause for reflection. 

Several weeks passed away, during which I often encounteredFledermausse without any alarming consequences. My fears weredissipated, and I thought of her no more. 

But an evening came, during which, while sleeping very soundly, I wasawakened by a strange harmony. It was a kind of vibration, so sweet, somelodious, that the whispering of the breeze among the leaves can givebut a faint idea of its charm. 

For a long time I listened intently, with my eyes wide open, andholding my breath, so as not to lose a note. At last I looked towardthe window, and saw two wings fluttering against the glass. I thought, at first, that it was a bat, caught in my room; but, the moon rising atthat instant, I saw the wings of a magnificent butterfly of the nightdelineated upon her shining disk. Their vibrations were often so rapidthat they could not be distinguished; then they reposed, extended uponthe glass, and their frail fibers were again brought to view. 

This misty apparition, coming in the midst of the universal silence, opened my heart to all sweet emotions. It seemed to me that an airysylph, touched with a sense of my solitude, had come to visit me, andthis idea melted me almost to tears. 

"Be tranquil, sweet captive, be tranquil, " said I; "your confidenceshall not be abused. I will not keep you against your will. Return toheaven and to liberty. " I then opened my little window. The night wascalm, and millions of stars were glittering in the sky. For a moment Icontemplated this sublime spectacle, and words of prayer and praisecame naturally to my lips; but, judge of my amazement, when, loweringmy eyes, I saw a man hanging from the crossbeam of the sign of theBoeuf-Gras, the hair disheveled, the arms stiff, the legs elongated toa point, and casting their gigantic shadows down to the street!

The immobility of this figure under the moon's rays was terrible. Ifelt my tongue freezing, my teeth clinched. I was about to cry out interror when, by some incomprehensible mysterious attraction, my glancefell below, and I distinguished, confusedly, the old woman crouched ather window in the midst of dark shadows, and contemplating the dead manwith an air of diabolic satisfaction. 

Then I had a vertigo of terror. All my strength abandoned me, and, retreating to the wall of my loft, I sank down and became insensible. 

I do not know how long this sleep of death continued. When restored toconsciousness, I saw that it was broad day. The mists of the night hadpenetrated to my garret, and deposited their fresh dew upon my hair, and the confused murmurs of the street ascended to my little lodging. Ilooked without. The burgomaster and his secretary were stationed at thedoor of the inn, and remained there a long time; crowds of people cameand went, and paused to look in; then recommenced their course. Thegood women of the neighborhood, who were sweeping before their doors, looked on from afar, and talked gravely with each other. 

At last a litter, and upon this litter a body, covered with a linencloth, issued from the inn, carried by two men. They descended to thestreet, and the children, on their way to school, ran behind them. 

All the people drew back as they advanced. 

The window opposite was still open; the end of a rope floated from thecrossbeam. 

I had not dreamed. I had, indeed, seen the butterfly of the night; Ihad seen the man hanging, and I had seen Fledermausse. 

That day Toubac made me a visit, and, as his great nose appeared on alevel with the floor, he exclaimed:

"Master Christian, have you nothing to sell?"

I did not hear him. I was seated upon my one chair, my hands claspedupon my knees, and my eyes fixed before me. 

Toubac, surprised at my inattention, repeated in a louder voice:

"Master Christian, Master Christian!" Then, striding over the sill, headvanced and struck me on the shoulder. 

"Well, well, what is the matter now?"

"Ah, is that you, Toubac?"

"Eh, _parbleu_! I rather think so; are you ill?"

"No, I am only thinking. "

"What in the devil are you thinking about?"

"Of the man who was hanged. "

"Oh, oh!" cried the curiosity vender. "You have seen him, then? Thepoor boy! What a singular history! The third in the same place. "

"How--the third?"

"Ah, yes! I ought to have warned you; but it is not too late. Therewill certainly be a fourth, who will follow the example of the others. _Il n'y à que le premier pas qui coûte_. "

Saying this, Toubac took a seat on the corner of my trunk, struck hismatch-box, lighted his pipe, and blew three or four powerful whiffs ofsmoke with a meditative air. 

"My faith, " said he, "I am not fearful; but, if I had full permissionto pass the night in that chamber, I should much prefer to sleepelsewhere. 

"Listen, Master Christian. Nine or ten months ago a good man ofTübingen, wholesale dealer in furs, dismounted at the Inn Boeuf-Gras. He called for supper; he ate well; he drank well; and was finallyconducted to that room in the third story--it is called the Green Room. Well, the next morning he was found hanging to the crossbeam of thesignboard. 

"Well, that might do _for once_; nothing could be said. 

"Every proper investigation was made, and the stranger was buried atthe bottom of the garden. But, look you, about six months afterwards abrave soldier from Neustadt arrived; he had received his finaldischarge, and was rejoicing in the thought of returning to his nativevillage. During the whole evening, while emptying his wine cups, hespoke fondly of his little cousin who was waiting to marry him. At lastthis big monsieur was conducted to his room--the Green Room--and, thesame night, the watchman, passing down the street Minnesänger, perceived something hanging to the crossbeam; he raised his lantern, and lo! it was the soldier, with his final discharge in a bow on hisleft hip, and his hands gathered up to the seam of his pantaloons, asif on parade. 

"'Truth to say, this is extraordinary!' cried the burgomaster; 'thedevil's to pay. ' Well, the chamber was much visited; the walls werereplastered, and the dead man was sent to Neustadt. 

"The registrar wrote this marginal note:

"'Died of apoplexy. '

"All Nuremberg was enraged against the innkeeper. There were many, indeed, who wished to force him to take down his iron crossbeam, underthe pretext that it inspired people with dangerous ideas; but you maywell believe that old Michael Schmidt would not lend his ear to thisproposition. 

"'This crossbeam, ' said he, 'was placed here by my grandfather; it hasborne the sign of Boeuf-Gras for one hundred and fifty years, fromfather to son; it harms no one, not even the hay wagons which passbeneath, for it is thirty feet above them. Those who don't like it canturn their heads aside, and not see it. '

"Well, gradually the town calmed down, and, during several months, nonew event agitated it. Unhappily, a student of Heidelberg, returning tothe university, stopped, day before yesterday, at the Inn Boeuf-Gras, and asked for lodging. He was the son of a minister of the gospel. 

"How could anyone suppose that the son of a pastor could conceive theidea of hanging himself on the crossbeam of a signboard, because a bigmonsieur and an old soldier had done so? We must admit, MasterChristian, that the thing was not probable; these reasons would nothave seemed sufficient to myself or to you. "

"Enough, enough!" I exclaimed; "this is too horrible! I see a frightfulmystery involved in all this. It is not the crossbeam; it is not theroom--"

"What! Do you suspect the innkeeper, the most honest man in the world, and belonging to one of the oldest families in Nuremberg?"

"No, no; may God preserve me from indulging in unjust suspicions! butthere is an abyss before me, into which I scarcely dare glance. "

"You are right, " said Toubac, astonished at the violence of myexcitement. "We will speak of other things. Apropos, Master Christian, where is our landscape of 'Saint Odille'?"

This question brought me back to the world of realities. I showed theold man the painting I had just completed. The affair was soonconcluded, and Toubac, well satisfied, descended the ladder, entreatingme to think no more of the student of Heidelberg. 

I would gladly have followed my good friend's counsel; but, when thedevil once mixes himself up in our concerns, it is not easy todisembarrass ourselves of him. 

In my solitary hours all these events were reproduced with frightfuldistinctness in my mind. 

"This old wretch, " I said to myself, "is the cause of it all; she alonehas conceived these crimes, and has consummated them. But by whatmeans? Has she had recourse to cunning alone, or has she obtained theintervention of invisible powers?" I walked to and fro in my retreat. An inward voice cried out: "It is not in vain that Providence permittedyou to see Fledermausse contemplating the agonies of her victim. It isnot in vain that the soul of the poor young man came in the form of abutterfly of the night to awake you. No, no; all this was notaccidental, Christian. The heavens impose upon you a terrible mission. If you do not accomplish it, tremble lest you fall yourself into thehands of the old murderess! Perhaps, at this moment, she is preparingher snares in the darkness. "

During several days these hideous images followed me withoutintermission. I lost my sleep; it was impossible for me to do anything;my brush fell from my hand; and, horrible to confess, I found myselfsometimes gazing at the crossbeam with a sort of complacency. At last Icould endure it no longer, and one evening I descended the ladder andhid myself behind the door of Fledermausse, hoping to surprise herfatal secret. 

From that time no day passed in which I was not _en route_, followingthe old wretch, watching, spying, never losing sight of her; but shewas so cunning, had a scent so subtile that, without even turning herhead, she knew I was behind her. 

However, she feigned not to perceive this; she went to the market, tothe butcher's, like any good, simple woman, only hastening her stepsand murmuring confused words. 

At the close of the month I saw that it was impossible for me to attainmy object in this way, and this conviction made me inexpressibly sad. 

"What can I do?" I said to myself. "The old woman divines my plans;she is on her guard; every hope abandons me. Ah! old hag, you thinkyou already see me at the end of your rope. " I was continually askingmyself this question: "What can I do? what can I do?" At last aluminous idea struck me. My chamber overlooked the house ofFledermausse; but there was no window on this side. I adroitly raiseda slate, and no pen could paint my joy when the whole ancient buildingwas thus exposed to me. "At last, I have you!" I exclaimed; "youcannot escape me now; from here I can see all that passes--yourgoings, your comings, your arts and snares. You will not suspect thisinvisible eye--this watchful eye, which will surprise crime at themoment it blooms. Oh, Justice, Justice! She marches slowly; but shearrives. "

Nothing could be more sinister than the den now spread out before me--agreat courtyard, the large slabs of which were covered with moss; inone corner, a well, whose stagnant waters you shuddered to look upon; astairway covered with old shells; at the farther end a gallery, withwooden balustrade, and hanging upon it some old linen and the tick ofan old straw mattress; on the first floor, to the left, the stonecovering of a common sewer indicated the kitchen; to the right thelofty windows of the building looked out upon the street; then a fewpots of dried, withered flowers--all was cracked, somber, moist. Onlyone or two hours during the day could the sun penetrate this loathsomespot; after that, the shadows took possession; then the sunshine fellupon the crazy walls, the worm-eaten balcony, the dull and tarnishedglass, and upon the whirlwind of atoms floating in its golden rays, disturbed by no breath of air. 

I had scarcely finished these observations and reflections, when theold woman entered, having just returned from market. I heard thegrating of her heavy door. Then she appeared with her basket. Sheseemed fatigued--almost out of breath. The lace of her bonnet fell toher nose. With one hand she grasped the banister and ascended thestairs. 

The heat was intolerable, suffocating; it was precisely one of thosedays in which all insects--crickets, spiders, mosquitoes, etc. --makeold ruins resound with their strange sounds. 

Fledermausse crossed the gallery slowly, like an old ferret who feelsat home. She remained more than a quarter of an hour in the kitchen, then returned, spread out her linen, took the broom, and brushed awaysome blades of straw on the floor. At last she raised her head, andturned her little green eyes in every direction, searching, investigating carefully. 

Could she, by some strange intuition, suspect anything? I do not know;but I gently lowered the slate, and gave up my watch for the day. 

In the morning Fledermausse appeared reassured. One angle of lightfell upon the gallery. In passing, she caught a fly on the wing, andpresented it delicately to a spider established in a corner of theroof. This spider was so bloated that, notwithstanding the distance, Isaw it descend from round to round, then glide along a fine web, likea drop of venom, seize its prey from the hands of the old shrew, andremount rapidly. Fledermausse looked at it very attentively, with hereyes half closed; then sneezed, and said to herself, in a jeeringtone, "God bless you, beautiful one; God bless you!"

I watched during six weeks, and could discover nothing concerning thepower of Fledermausse. Sometimes, seated upon a stool, she peeled herpotatoes, then hung out her linen upon the balustrade. 

Sometimes I saw her spinning; but she never sang, as good, kind oldwomen are accustomed to do, their trembling voices mingling well withthe humming of the wheel. 

Profound silence always reigned around her; she had no cat--thatcherished society of old women--not even a sparrow came to rest underher roof. It seemed as if all animated nature shrank from her glance. The bloated spider alone took delight in her society. 

I cannot now conceive how my patience could endure those long hours ofobservation: nothing escaped me; nothing was matter of indifference. Atthe slightest sound I raised my slate; my curiosity was without limit, insatiable. 

Toubac complained greatly. 

"Master Christian, " said he, "how in the devil do you pass your time?Formerly you painted something for me every week; now you do not finisha piece once a month. Oh, you painters! 'Lazy as a painter' is a good, wise proverb. As soon as you have a few kreutzers in possession, youput your hands in your pockets and go to sleep!"

I confess that I began to lose courage--I had watched, spied, anddiscovered nothing. I said to myself that the old woman could not beso dangerous as I had supposed; that I had perhaps done her injusticeby my suspicions; in short, I began to make excuses for her. Onelovely afternoon, with my eye fixed at my post of observation, Iabandoned myself to these benevolent reflections, when suddenly thescene changed: Fledermausse passed through the gallery with therapidity of lightning. She was no longer the same person; she waserect, her jaws were clinched, her glance fixed, her neck extended;she walked with grand strides, her gray locks floating behind her. 

"Oh, at last, " I said to myself, "something is coming, attention!" But, alas! the shadows of evening descended upon the old building, thenoises of the city expired, and silence prevailed. 

Fatigued and disappointed, I lay down upon my bed, when, casting myeyes toward my dormer window, I saw the room opposite illuminated. So!a traveler occupied the Green Room--fatal to strangers. 

Now, all my fears were reawakened; the agitation of Fledermausse wasexplained--she scented a new victim. 

No sleep for me that night; the rustling of the straw, the nibbling ofthe mice under the floor, gave me nervous chills. 

I rose and leaned out of my window; I listened. The light in the roomopposite was extinguished. In one of those moments of poignant anxiety, I cannot say if it was illusion or reality, I thought I saw the oldwretch also watching and listening. 

The night passed, and the gray dawn came to my windows; by degrees thenoise and movements in the street ascended to my loft. Harassed byfatigue and emotion I fell asleep, but my slumber was short, and byeight o'clock I had resumed my post of observation. 

It seemed as if the night had been as disturbed and tempestuous toFledermausse as to myself. When she opened the door of the gallery, Isaw that a livid pallor covered her cheeks and thin throat; she had ononly her chemise and a woolen skirt; a few locks of reddish gray hairfell on her shoulders. She looked toward my hiding place with a dreamy, abstracted air, but she saw nothing; she was thinking of other things. 

Suddenly she descended, leaving her old shoes at the bottom of thesteps. "Without doubt, " thought I, "she is going to see if the doorbelow is well fastened. "

I saw her remount hastily, springing up three or four steps at atime--it was terrible. 

She rushed into the neighboring chamber, and I heard something like thefalling of the top of a great chest; then Fledermausse appeared in thegallery, dragging a manikin after her, and this manikin was clothedlike the Heidelberg student. 

With surprising dexterity the old woman suspended this hideous objectto a beam of the shed, then descended rapidly to the courtyard tocontemplate it. A burst of sardonic laughter escaped from her lips; sheremounted, then descended again like a maniac, and each time utterednew cries and new bursts of laughter. 

A noise was heard near the door, and the old woman bounded forward, unhooked the manikin and carried it off; then, leaning over thebalustrade with her throat elongated, her eyes flashing, she listenedearnestly. The noise was lost in the distance, the muscles of her facerelaxed, and she drew long breaths. It was only a carriage which hadpassed. 

The old wretch had been frightened. 

She now returned to the room, and I heard the chest close. This strangescene confounded all my ideas. What did this manikin signify? I becamemore than ever attentive. 

Fledermausse now left the house with her basket on her arm. I followedher with my eyes till she turned the corner of the street. She hadreassumed the air of a trembling old woman, took short steps, and fromtime to time turned her head partly around, to peer behind from thecorner of her eye. 

Fledermausse was absent fully five hours. For myself, I went, I came, Imeditated. The time seemed insupportable. The sun heated the slate ofthe roof, and scorched my brain. 

Now I saw, at the window, the good man who occupied the fatal GreenChamber; he was a brave peasant of Nassau, with a large three-corneredhat, a scarlet vest, and a laughing face; he smoked his pipe of Ulmtranquillity, and seemed to fear no evil. 

I felt a strong desire to cry out to him: "Good man, be on your guard!Do not allow yourself to be entrapped by the old wretch; distrustyourself!" but he would not have comprehended me. Toward two o'clockFledermausse returned. The noise of her door resounded through thevestibule. Then alone, all alone, she entered the yard, and seatedherself on the interior step of the stairway; she put down her basketbefore her, and drew out first some packets of herbs, then vegetables, then a red vest, then a three-cornered hat, a coat of brown velvet, pants of plush, and coarse woolen hose--the complete costume of thepeasant from Nassau. 

For a moment I felt stunned; then flames passed before my eyes. 

I recollected those precipices which entice with an irresistible power;those wells or pits, which the police have been compelled to close, because men threw themselves into them; those trees which had been cutdown because they inspired men with the idea of hanging themselves;that contagion of suicides, of robberies, of murders, at certainepochs, by desperate means; that strange and subtile enticement ofexample, which makes you yawn because another yawns, suffer because yousee another suffer, kill yourself because you see others killthemselves--and my hair stood up with horror. 

How could this Fledermausse, this base, sordid creature, have derivedso profound a law of human nature? how had she found the means to usethis law to the profit or indulgence of her sanguinary instincts? ThisI could not comprehend; it surpassed my wildest imaginations. 

But reflecting longer upon this inexplicable mystery, I resolved toturn the fatal law against her, and to draw the old murderess into herown net. 

So many innocent victims called out for vengeance!

I felt myself to be on the right path. 

I went to all the old-clothes sellers in Nuremberg, and returned in theafternoon to the Inn Boeuf-Gras, with an enormous packet under my arm. 

Nichel Schmidt had known me for a long time; his wife was fat andgood-looking; I had painted her portrait. 

"Ah, Master Christian, " said he, squeezing my hand, "what happycircumstance brings you here? What procures me the pleasure of seeingyou?"

"My dear Monsieur Schmidt, I feel a vehement, insatiable desire tosleep in the Green Room. "

We were standing on the threshold of the inn, and I pointed to theroom. The good man looked at me distrustfully. 

"Fear nothing, " I said; "I have no desire to hang myself. ". 

"_À la bonne heure! à la bonne heure!_ For frankly that would give mepain; an artist of such merit! When do you wish the room, MasterChristian?"

"This evening. "

"Impossible! it is occupied!"

"Monsieur can enter immediately, " said a voice just behind me, "I willnot be in the way. "

We turned around in great surprise; the peasant of Nassau stood beforeus, with his three-cornered hat, and his packet at the end of hiswalking stick. He had just learned the history of his threepredecessors in the Green Room, and was trembling with rage. 

"Rooms like yours!" cried he, stuttering; "but it is murderous to putpeople there--it is assassination! You deserve to be sent to thegalleys immediately!"

"Go--go--calm yourself, " said the innkeeper; "that did not prevent youfrom sleeping well. "

"Happily, I said my prayers at night, " said the peasant; "without that, where would I be?" and he withdrew, with his hands raised to heaven. 

"Well, " said Nichel Schmidt, stupefied, "the room is vacant, but Ientreat you, do not serve me a bad trick. "

"It would be a worse trick for myself than for you, monsieur. "

I gave my packet to the servants, and installed myself for the timewith the drinkers. For a long time I had not felt so calm and happy. After so many doubts and disquietudes, I touched the goal. The horizonseemed to clear up, and it appeared that some invisible power gave methe hand. I lighted my pipe, placed my elbow on the table, my winebefore me, and listened to the chorus in "Freischütz, " played by atroupe of gypsies from the Black Forest. The trumpets, the hue and cryof the chase, the hautboys, plunged me into a vague reverie, and, attimes rousing up to look at the hour, I asked myself gravely, if allwhich _had_ happened to me was not a dream. But the watchman came toask us to leave the _salle_, and soon other and more solemn thoughtswere surging in my soul, and in deep meditation I followed littleCharlotte, who preceded me with a candle to my room. 

We mounted the stairs to the third story. Charlotte gave me the candleand pointed to the door. 

"There, " said she, and descended rapidly. 

I opened the door. The Green Room was like any other inn room. Theceiling was very low, the bed very high. With one glance I explored theinterior, and then glided to the window. 

Nothing was to be seen in the house of Fledermausse; only, in somedistant room, an obscure light was burning. Some one was on the watch. "That is well, " said I, closing the curtain. "I have all necessarytime. "

I opened my packet, I put on a woman's bonnet with hanging lace; then, placing myself before a mirror, I took a brush and painted wrinkles inmy face. This took me nearly an hour. Then I put on the dress and alarge shawl, and I was actually afraid of myself. Fledermausse seemedto me to look at me from the mirror. 

At this moment the watchman cried out, "Eleven o'clock!" I seized themanikin which I had brought in my packet, and muffled it in a costumeprecisely similar to that worn by the old wretch. I then opened thecurtain. 

Certainly, after all that I had seen of the Fledermausse, of herinfernal cunning, her prudence, her adroitness, she could not in anyway surprise me; and yet I was afraid. The light which I had remarkedin the chamber was still immovable, and now cast its yellow rays on themanikin of the peasant of Nassau, which was crouched on the corner ofthe bed, with the head hanging on the breast, the three-cornered hatpulled down over the face, the arms suspended, and the whole aspectthat of absolute despair. 

The shadows, managed with diabolical art, allowed nothing to be seenbut the general effect of the face. The red vest, and six round buttonsalone, seemed top shine out in the darkness. But the silence of thenight, the complete immobility of the figure, the exhausted, mournfulair, were well calculated to take possession of a spectator with astrange power. For myself, although forewarned, I was chilled even tomy bones. 

How would it, then, have fared with the poor, simple peasant, if he hadbeen surprised unawares? He would have been utterly cast down. Despairing, he would have lost all power of self-control, and thespirit of imitation would have done the rest. 

Scarcely had I moved the curtain, when I saw Fledermausse on the watchbehind her window. She could not see me. I opened my window softly; thewindow opposite was opened! Then her manikin appeared to rise slowlyand advance before me. I, also, advanced my manikin, and seizing mytorch with one hand, with the other I quickly opened the shutters. Andnow the old woman and myself were face to face. Struck with suddenterror, she had let her manikin fall!

We gazed at each other with almost equal horror. _She_ extended herfinger--I advanced _mine_. _She_ moved her lips--I agitated _mine_. Shebreathed a profound sigh, and leaned upon her elbow. I imitated her. 

To describe all the terrors of this scene would be impossible. Itbordered upon confusion, madness, delirium. It was a death strugglebetween two wills; between two intelligences; between two souls--eachone wishing to destroy the other; and, in this struggle, I had theadvantage--her victims struggled with me. 

After having imitated for some seconds every movement of Fledermausse, I pulled a rope from under my skirt, and attached it to the crossbeam. 

The old woman gazed at me with gaping mouth. I passed the rope aroundmy neck; her pupils expanded, lightened; her face was convulsed. 

"No, no!" said she, in a whistling voice. 

I pursued her with the impassability of an executioner. 

Then rage seemed to take possession of her. 

"Old fool!" she exclaimed, straightening herself up, and her handscontracted on the crossbeam. "Old fool!" I gave her no time to go onblowing out my lamp. I stooped, like a man going to make a vigorousspring, and, seizing my manikin, I passed the rope around its neck, andprecipitated it below. 

A terrible cry resounded through the street, and then silence, which Iseemed to feel. Perspiration bathed my forehead. I listened a longtime. At the end of a quarter of an hour I heard, far away, very faraway, the voice of the watchman, crying, "Inhabitants of Nuremberg, midnight, midnight sounds!"

"Now justice is satisfied!" I cried, "and three victims are avenged. Pardon me, O Lord!"

About five minutes after the cry of the watchman, I saw Fledermausseattracted, allured by my manikin (her exact image), spring from thewindow, with a rope around her neck, and rest suspended from thecrossbeam. 

I saw the shadow of death undulating through her body, while the moon, calm, silent, majestic, inundated the summit of the roof, and her cold, pale rays reposed upon the old, disheveled, hideous head. 

Just as I had seen the poor young student of Heidelberg, just so did Inow see Fledermausse. 

In the morning, all Nuremberg learned that the old wretch had hangedherself, and this was the last event of that kind in the StreetMinnesänger. 

_The Waters of Death_

The warm mineral waters of Spinbronn, situated in the Hundsrück, several leagues from Pirmesens, formerly enjoyed a magnificentreputation. All who were afflicted with gout or gravel in Germanyrepaired thither; the savage aspect of the country did not deter them. They lodged in pretty cottages at the head of the defile; they bathedin the cascade, which fell in large sheets of foam from the summit ofthe rocks; they drank one or two decanters of mineral water daily, andthe doctor of the place, Daniel Hâselnoss, who distributed hisprescriptions clad in a great wig and chestnut coat, had an excellentpractice. 

To-day the waters of Spinbronn figure no longer in the "Codex";[1] inthis poor village one no longer sees anyone but a few miserablewoodcutters, and, sad to say, Dr. Hâselnoss has left!

 [1] A collection of prescriptions indorsed by the Faculty of Paris. --_Trans. _

All this resulted from a series of very strange catastrophes whichlawyer Brêmer of Pirmesens told me about the other day. 

You should know, Master Frantz (said he), that the spring of Spinbronnissues from a sort of cavern, about five feet high and twelve orfifteen feet wide; the water has a warmth of sixty-seven degreesCentigrade; it is salt. As for the cavern, entirely covered withoutwith moss, ivy, and brushwood, its depth is unknown because the hotexhalations prevent all entrance. 

Nevertheless, strangely enough, it was noticed early in the lastcentury that birds of the neighborhood--thrushes, doves, hawks--wereengulfed in it in full flight, and it was never known to whatmysterious influence to attribute this particular. 

In 1801, at the height of the season, owing to some circumstance whichis still unexplained, the spring became more abundant, and thebathers, walking below on the greensward, saw a human skeleton aswhite as snow fall from the cascade. 

You may judge, Master Frantz, of the general fright; it was thoughtnaturally that a murder had been committed at Spinbronn in a recentyear, and that the body of the victim had been thrown in the spring. But the skeleton weighed no more than a dozen francs, and Hâselnossconcluded that it must have sojourned more than three centuries in thesand to have become reduced to such a state of desiccation. 

This very plausible reasoning did not prevent a crowd of patrons, wildat the idea of having drunk the saline water, from leaving before theend of the day; those worst afflicted with gout and gravel consoledthemselves. But the overflow continuing, all the rubbish, slime, anddetritus which the cavern contained was disgorged on the followingdays; a veritable bone-yard came down from the mountain: skeletons ofanimals of every kind--of quadrupeds, birds, and reptiles--in short, all that one could conceive as most horrible. 

Hâselnoss issued a pamphlet demonstrating that all these bones werederived from an antediluvian world: that they were fossil bones, accumulated there in a sort of funnel during the universal flood--thatis to say, four thousand years before Christ, and that, consequently, one might consider them as nothing but stones, and that it wasneedless to be disgusted. But his work had scarcely reassured thegouty when, one fine morning, the corpse of a fox, then that of a hawkwith all its feathers, fell from the cascade. 

It was impossible to establish that these remains antedated the Flood. Anyway, the disgust was so great that everybody tied up his bundle andwent to take the waters elsewhere. 

"How infamous!" cried the beautiful ladies--"how horrible! So that'swhat the virtue of these mineral waters came from! Oh, 'twere betterto die of gravel than continue such a remedy!"

At the end of a week there remained at Spinbronn only a big Englishmanwho had gout in his hands as well as in his feet, who had himselfaddressed as Sir Thomas Hawerburch, Commodore; and he brought a largeretinue, according to the usage of a British subject in a foreignland. 

This personage, big and fat, with a florid complexion, but with handssimply knotted with gout, would have drunk skeleton soup if it wouldhave cured his infirmity. He laughed heartily over the desertion ofthe other sufferers, and installed himself in the prettiest _châlet_at half price, announcing his design to pass the winter at Spinbronn. 

 * * * * *

(Here lawyer Brêmer slowly absorbed an ample pinch of snuff as if toquicken his reminiscences; he shook his laced ruff with his fingertips and continued:)

 * * * * *

Five or six years before the Revolution of 1789, a young doctor ofPirmesens, named Christian Weber, had gone out to San Domingo in thehope of making his fortune. He had actually amassed some hundredthousand francs m the exercise of his profession when the negro revoltbroke out. 

I need not recall to you the barbarous treatment to which ourunfortunate fellow countrymen were subjected at Haiti. Dr. Weber hadthe good luck to escape the massacre and to save part of his fortune. Then he traveled in South America, and especially in French Guiana. In1801 he returned to Pirmesens, and established himself at Spinbronn, where Dr. Hâselnoss made over his house and defunct practice. 

Christian Weber brought with him an old negress called Agatha: afrightful creature, with a flat nose and lips as large as your fist, and her head tied up in three bandanas of razor-edged colors. Thispoor old woman adored red; she had earrings which hung down to hershoulders, and the mountaineers of Hundsrück came from six leaguesaround to stare at her. 

As for Dr. Weber, he was a tall, lean man, invariably dressed in asky-blue coat with codfish tails and deerskin breeches. He wore a hatof flexible straw and boots with bright yellow tops, on the front ofwhich hung two silver tassels. He talked little; his laugh was like anervous attack, and his gray eyes, usually calm and meditative, shonewith singular brilliance at the least sign of contradiction. Everymorning he fetched a turn round about the mountain, letting his horseramble at a venture, whistling forever the same tune, some negromelody or other. Lastly, this rum chap had brought from Haiti a lot ofbandboxes filled with queer insects--some black and reddish brown, bigas eggs; others little and shimmering like sparks. He seemed to setgreater store by them than by his patients, and, from time to time, oncoming back from his rides, he brought a quantity of butterfliespinned to his hat brim. 

Scarcely was he settled in Hâselnoss's vast house when he peopled theback yard with outlandish birds--Barbary geese with scarlet cheeks, Guinea hens, and a white peacock, which perched habitually on thegarden wall, and which divided with the negress the admiration of themountaineers. 

If I enter into these details, Master Frantz, it's because they recallmy early youth; Dr. Christian found himself to be at the same time mycousin and my tutor, and as early as on his return to Germany he hadcome to take me and install me in his house at Spinbronn. The blackAgatha at first sight inspired me with some fright, and I only gotseasoned to that fantastic visage with considerable difficulty; butshe was such a good woman--she knew so well how to make spicedpatties, she hummed such strange songs in a guttural voice, snappingher fingers and keeping time with a heavy shuffle, that I ended bytaking her in fast friendship. 

Dr. Weber was naturally thick with Sir Thomas Hawerburch, asrepresenting the only one of his clientele then in evidence, and I wasnot slow in perceiving that these two eccentrics held longconventicles together. They conversed on mysterious matters, on thetransmission of fluids, and indulged in certain odd signs which one orthe other had picked up in his voyages--Sir Thomas in the Orient, andmy tutor in America. This puzzled me greatly. As children will, I wasalways lying in wait for what they seemed to want to conceal from me;but despairing in the end of discovering anything, I took the courseof questioning Agatha, and the poor old woman, after making me promiseto say nothing about it, admitted that my tutor was a sorcerer. 

For the rest, Dr. Weber exercised a singular influence over the mindof this negress, and this woman, habitually so gay and forever readyto be amused by nothing, trembled like a leaf when her master's grayeyes chanced to alight on her. 

All this, Master Frantz, seems to have no bearing on the springs ofSpinbronn. But wait, wait--you shall see by what a singular concourseof circumstances my story is connected with it. 

I told you that birds darted into the cavern, and even other andlarger creatures. After the final departure of the patrons, some ofthe old inhabitants of the village recalled that a young girl namedLouise Müller, who lived with her infirm old grandmother in a cottageon the pitch of the slope, had suddenly disappeared half a hundredyears before. She had gone out to look for herbs in the forest, andthere had never been any more news of her afterwards, except that, three or four days later, some woodcutters who were descending themountain had found her sickle and her apron a few steps from thecavern. 

From that moment it was evident to everyone that the skeleton whichhad fallen from the cascade, on the subject of which Hâselnoss hadturned such fine phrases, was no other than that of Louise Müller. Thepoor girl had doubtless been drawn into the gulf by the mysteriousinfluence which almost daily overcame weaker beings!

What could this influence be? None knew. But the inhabitants ofSpinbronn, superstitious like all mountaineers, maintained that thedevil lived in the cavern, and terror spread in the whole region. 

 * * * * *

Now one afternoon in the middle of the month of July, 1802, my cousinundertook a new classification of the insects in his bandboxes. He hadsecured several rather curious ones the preceding afternoon. I waswith him, holding the lighted candle with one hand and with the othera needle which I heated red-hot. 

Sir Thomas, seated, his chair tipped back against the sill of awindow, his feet on a stool, watched us work, and smoked his cigarwith a dreamy air. 

I stood in with Sir Thomas Hawerburch, and I accompanied him every dayto the woods in his carriage. He enjoyed hearing me chatter inEnglish, and wished to make of me, as he said, a thorough gentleman. 

The butterflies labeled, Dr. Weber at last opened the box of thelargest insects, and said:

"Yesterday I secured a magnificent horn beetle, the great _Lucanuscervus_ of the oaks of the Hartz. It has this peculiarity--the rightclaw divides in five branches. It's a rare specimen. "

At the same time I offered him the needle, and as he pierced theinsect before fixing it on the cork, Sir Thomas, until then impassive, got up, and, drawing near a bandbox, he began to examine the spidercrab of Guiana with a feeling of horror which was strikingly portrayedon his fat vermilion face. 

"That is certainly, " he cried, "the most frightful work of thecreation. The mere sight of it--it makes me shudder!"

In truth, a sudden pallor overspread his face. 

"Bah!" said my tutor, "all that is only a prejudice fromchildhood--one hears his nurse cry out--one is afraid--and theimpression sticks. But if you should consider the spider with a strongmicroscope, you would be astonished at the finish of his members, attheir admirable arrangement, and even at their elegance. "

"It disgusts me, " interrupted the commodore brusquely. "Pouah!"

It had turned over in his fingers. 

"Oh! I don't know why, " he declared, "spiders have always frozen myblood!"

Dr. Weber began to laugh, and I, who shared the feelings of SirThomas, exclaimed:

"Yes, cousin, you ought to take this villainous beast out of thebox--it is disgusting--it spoils all the rest. "

"Little chump, " he said, his eyes sparkling, "what makes you look atit? If you don't like it, go take yourself off somewhere. "

Evidently he had taken offense; and Sir Thomas, who was then beforethe window contemplating the mountain, turned suddenly, took me by thehand, and said to me in a manner full of good will:

"Your tutor, Frantz, sets great store by his spider; we like the treesbetter--the verdure. Come, let's go for a walk. "

"Yes, go, " cried the doctor, "and come back for supper at sixo'clock. "

Then raising his voice:

"No hard feelings, Sir Hawerburch. "

The commodore replied laughingly, and we got into the carriage, whichwas always waiting in front of the door of the house. 

Sir Thomas wanted to drive himself and dismissed his servant. He mademe sit beside him on the same seat and we started off for Rothalps. 

While the carriage was slowly ascending the sandy path, an invinciblesadness possessed itself of my spirit. Sir Thomas, on his part, wasgrave. He perceived my sadness and said:

"You don't like spiders, Frantz, nor do I either. But thank Heaven, there aren't any dangerous ones in this country. The spider crab whichyour tutor has in his box comes from French Guiana. It inhabits thegreat, swampy forests filled with warm vapors, with scaldingexhalations; this temperature is necessary to its life. Its web, orrather its vast snare, envelops an entire thicket. In it it takesbirds as our spiders take flies. But drive these disgusting imagesfrom your mind, and drink a swallow of my old Burgundy. "

Then turning, he raised the cover of the rear seat, and drew from thestraw a sort of gourd from which he poured me a full bumper in aleather goblet. 

When I had drunk all my good humor returned and I began to laugh at myfright. 

The carriage was drawn by a little Ardennes horse, thin and nervous asa goat, which clambered up the nearly perpendicular path. Thousands ofinsects hummed in the bushes. At our right, at a hundred paces ormore, the somber outskirts of the Rothalp forests extended below us, the profound shades of which, choked with briers and foul brush, showed here and there an opening filled with light. On our lefttumbled the stream of Spinbronn, and the more we climbed the more didits silvered sheets, floating in the abyss, grow tinged with azure andredouble their sound of cymbals. 

I was captivated by this spectacle. Sir Thomas, leaning back in theseat, his knees as high as his chin, abandoned himself to his habitualreveries, while the horse, laboring with his feet and hanging his headon his chest as a counter-weight to the carriage, held on as ifsuspended on the flank of the rock. Soon, however, we reached a pitchless steep: the haunt of the roebuck, surrounded by tremulous shadows. I always lost my head, and my eyes too, in an immense perspective. Atthe apparition of the shadows I turned my head and saw the cavern ofSpinbronn close at hand. The encompassing mists were a magnificentgreen, and the stream which, before falling, extends over a bed ofblack sand and pebbles, was so clear that one would have thought itfrozen if pale vapors did not follow its surface. 

The horse had just stopped of his own accord to breathe; Sir Thomas, rising, cast his eye over the countryside. 

"How calm everything is!" said he. 

Then, after an instant of silence:

"If you weren't here, Frantz, I should certainly bathe in the basin. "

"But, Commodore, " said I, "why not bathe? I would do well to strollaround in the neighborhood. On the next hill is a great glade filledwith wild strawberries. I'll go and pick some. I'll be back in anhour. "

"Ha! I should like to, Frantz; it's a good idea. Dr. Weber contendsthat I drink too much Burgundy. It's necessary to offset wine withmineral water. This little bed of sand pleases me. "

Then, having set both feet on the ground, he hitched the horse to thetrunk of a little birch and waved his hand as if to say:

"You may go. "

I saw him sit down on the moss and draw off his boots. As I moved awayhe turned and called out:

"In an hour, Frantz. "

They were his last words. 

An hour later I returned to the spring. The horse, the carriage, andthe clothes of Sir Thomas alone met my eyes. The sun was setting. Theshadows were getting long. Not a bird's song under the foliage, notthe hum of an insect in the tall grass. A silence like death lookeddown on this solitude! The silence frightened me. I climbed up on therock which overlooks the cavern; I looked to the right and to theleft. Nobody! I called. No answer! The sound of my voice, repeated bythe echoes, filled me with fear. Night settled down slowly. A vaguesense of horror oppressed me. Suddenly the story of the young girl whohad disappeared occurred to me; and I began to descend on the run;but, arriving before the cavern, I stopped, seized with unaccountableterror: in casting a glance in the deep shadows of the spring I hadcaught sight of two motionless red points. Then I saw long lineswavering in a strange manner in the midst of the darkness, and that ata depth where no human eye had ever penetrated. Fear lent my sight, and all my senses, an unheard-of subtlety of perception. For severalseconds I heard very distinctly the evening plaint of a cricket downat the edge of the wood, a dog barking far away, very far in thevalley. Then my heart, compressed for an instant by emotion, began tobeat furiously and I no longer heard anything!

Then uttering a horrible cry, I fled, abandoning the horse, thecarriage. In less than twenty minutes, bounding over the rocks andbrush, I reached the threshold of our house, and cried in a stifledvoice:

"Run! Run! Sir Hawerburch is dead! Sir Hawerburch is in the cavern--!"

After these words, spoken in the presence of my tutor, of the oldwoman Agatha, and of two or three people invited in that evening bythe doctor, I fainted. I have learned since that during a whole hour Iraved deliriously. 

The whole village had gone in search of the commodore. Christian Weberhurried them off. At ten o'clock in the evening all the crowd cameback, bringing the carriage, and in the carriage the clothes of SirHawerburch. They had discovered nothing. It was impossible to take tensteps in the cavern without being suffocated. 

During their absence Agatha and I waited, sitting in the chimneycorner. I, howling incoherent words of terror; she, with hands crossedon her knees, eyes wide open, going from time to time to the window tosee what was taking place, for from the foot of the mountain one couldsee torches flitting in the woods. One could hear hoarse voices, inthe distance, calling to each other in the night. 

At the approach of her master, Agatha began to tremble. The doctorentered brusquely, pale, his lips compressed, despair written on hisface. A score of woodcutters followed him tumultuously, in great felthats with wide brims--swarthy visaged--shaking the ash from theirtorches. Scarcely was he in the hall when my tutor's glittering eyesseemed to look for something. He caught sight of the negress, andwithout a word having passed between them, the poor woman began tocry:

"No! no! I don't want to!"

"And I wish it, " replied the doctor in a hard tone. 

One would have said that the negress had been seized by an invinciblepower. She shuddered from head to foot, and Christian Weber showingher a bench, she sat down with a corpse-like stiffness. 

All the bystanders, witnesses of this shocking spectacle, good folkwith primitive and crude manners, but full of pious sentiments, madethe sign of the cross, and I who knew not then, even by name, of theterrible magnetic power of the will, began to tremble, believing thatAgatha was dead. 

Christian Weber approached the negress, and making a rapid pass overher forehead:

"Are you there?" said he. 

"Yes, master. "

"Sir Thomas Hawerburch?"

At these words she shuddered again. 

"Do you see him?"

"Yes--yes, " she gasped in a strangling voice, "I see him. "

"Where is he?"

"Up there--in the back of the cavern--dead!"

"Dead!" said the doctor, "how?"

"The spider--Oh! the spider crab--Oh!--"

"Control your agitation, " said the doctor, who was quite pale, "tellus plainly--"

"The spider crab holds him by the throat--he is there--at theback--under the rock--wound round by webs--Ah!"

Christian Weber cast a cold glance toward his assistants, who, crowding around, with their eyes sticking out of their heads, werelistening intently, and I heard him murmur:

"It's horrible! horrible!"

Then he resumed:

"You see him?"

"I see him--"

"And the spider--is it big?"

"Oh, master, never--never have I seen such a large one--not even onthe banks of the Mocaris--nor in the lowlands of Konanama. It is aslarge as my head--!"

There was a long silence. All the assistants looked at each other, their faces livid, their hair standing up. Christian Weber aloneseemed calm; having passed his hand several times over the negress'sforehead, he continued:

"Agatha, tell us how death befell Sir Hawerburch. "

"He was bathing in the basin of the spring--the spider saw him frombehind, with his bare back. It was hungry, it had fasted for a longtime; it saw him with his arms on the water. Suddenly it came out likea flash and placed its fangs around the commodore's neck, and he criedout: 'Oh! oh! my God!' It stung and fled. Sir Hawerburch sank down inthe water and died. Then the spider returned and surrounded him withits web, and he floated gently, gently, to the back of the cavern. Itdrew in on the web. Now he is all black. "

The doctor, turning to me, who no longer felt the shock, asked:

"Is it true, Frantz, that the commodore went in bathing?"

"Yes, Cousin Christian. "

"At what time?"

"At four o'clock. "

"At four o'clock--it was very warm, wasn't it?"

"Oh, yes!"

"It's certainly so, " said he, striking his forehead. "The monstercould come out without fear--"

He pronounced a few unintelligible words, and then, looking toward themountaineers:

"My friends, " he cried, "that is where this mass of débris camefrom--of skeletons--which spread terror among the bathers. That iswhat has ruined you all--it is the spider crab! It is there--hidden inits web--awaiting its prey in the back of the cavern! Who can tell thenumber of its victims?"

And full of fury, he led the way, shouting:

"Fagots! Fagots!"

The woodcutters followed him, vociferating. 

Ten minutes later two large wagons laden with fagots were slowlymounting the slope. A long file of woodcutters, their backs bentdouble, followed, enveloped in the somber night. My tutor and I walkedahead, leading the horses by their bridles, and the melancholy moonvaguely lighted this funereal march. From time to time the wheelsgrated. Then the carts, raised by the irregularities of the rockyroad, fell again in the track with a heavy jolt. 

As we drew near the cavern, on the playground of the roebucks, ourcortége halted. The torches were lit, and the crowd advanced towardthe gulf. The limpid water, running over the sand, reflected thebluish flame of the resinous torches, the rays of which revealed thetops of the black firs leaning over the rock. 

"This is the place to unload, " the doctor then said. "It's necessaryto block up the mouth of the cavern. "

And it was not without a feeling of terror that each undertook theduty of executing his orders. The fagots fell from the top of theloads. A few stakes driven down before the opening of the springprevented the water from carrying them away. 

Toward midnight the mouth of the cavern was completely closed. Thewater running over spread to both sides on the moss. The top fagotswere perfectly dry; then Dr. Weber, supplying himself with a torch, himself lit the fire. The flames ran from twig to twig with an angrycrackling, and soon leaped toward the sky, chasing clouds of smokebefore them. 

It was a strange and savage spectacle, the great pile with tremblingshadows lit up in this way. 

This cavern poured forth black smoke, unceasingly renewed anddisgorged. All around stood the woodcutters, somber, motionless, expectant, their eyes fixed on the opening; and I, although tremblingfrom head to foot in fear, could not tear away my gaze. 

It was a good quarter of an hour that we waited, and Dr. Weber wasbeginning to grow impatient, when a black object, with long hookedclaws, appeared suddenly in the shadow and precipitated itself towardthe opening. 

A cry resounded about the pyre. 

The spider, driven back by the live coals, reëntered its cave. Then, smothered doubtless by the smoke, it returned to the charge and leapedout into the midst of the flames. Its long legs curled up. It was aslarge as my head, and of a violet red. 

One of the woodcutters, fearing lest it leap clear of the fire, threwhis hatchet at it, and with such good aim that on the instant the firearound it was covered with blood. But soon the flames burst out morevigorously over it and consumed the horrible destroyer. 

 * * * * *

Such, Master Frantz, was the strange event which destroyed the finereputation which the waters of Spinbronn formerly enjoyed. I cancertify the scrupulous precision of my account. But as for giving youan explanation, that would be impossible for me to do. At the sametime, allow me to tell you that it does not seem to me absurd to admitthat a spider, under the influence of a temperature raised by thermalwaters, which affords the same conditions of life and development asthe scorching climates of Africa and South America, should attain afabulous size. It was this same extreme heat which explains theprodigious exuberance of the antediluvian creation!

However that may be, my tutor, judging that it would be impossibleafter this event to reestablish the waters of Spinbronn, sold thehouse back to Hâselnoss, in order to return to America with hisnegress and collections. I was sent to board in Strasbourg, where Iremained until 1809. 

The great political events of the epoch then absorbing the attentionof Germany and France explain why the affair I have just told youabout passed completely unobserved. 

HONORÉ DE BALZAC

_Melmoth Reconciled_[1]

 To Monsieur le Général Baron de Pommereul, a token of the friendship between our fathers, which survives in their sons. 

 DE BALZAC. 

There is a special variety of human nature obtained in the SocialKingdom by a process analogous to that of the gardener's craft in theVegetable Kingdom, to wit, by the forcing-house--a species of hybridwhich can be raised neither from seed nor from slips. This product isknown as the Cashier, an anthropomorphous growth, watered by religiousdoctrine, trained up in fear of the guillotine, pruned by vice, toflourish on a third floor with an estimable wife by his side and anuninteresting family. The number of cashiers in Paris must always be aproblem for the physiologist. Has anyone as yet been able to statecorrectly the terms of the proportion sum wherein the cashier figuresas the unknown _x_? Where will you find the man who shall live withwealth, like a cat with a caged mouse? This man, for furtherqualification, shall be capable of sitting boxed in behind an irongrating for seven or eight hours a day during seven-eighths of theyear, perched upon a cane-seated chair in a space as narrow as alieutenant's cabin on board a man-of-war. Such a man must be able todefy anchylosis of the knee and thigh joints; he must have a soul abovemeanness, in order to live meanly; must lose all relish for money bydint of handling it. Demand this peculiar specimen of any creed, educational system, school, or institution you please, and selectParis, that city of fiery ordeals and branch establishment of hell, asthe soil in which to plant the said cashier. So be it. Creeds, schools, institutions, and moral systems, all human rules and regulations, greatand small, will, one after another, present much the same face that anintimate friend turns upon you when you ask him to lend you a thousandfrancs. With a dolorous dropping of the jaw, they indicate theguillotine, much as your friend aforesaid will furnish you with theaddress of the money lender, pointing you to one of the hundred gatesby which a man comes to the last refuge of the destitute. 

 [1] For the narrative "Melmoth the Wanderer, " and a description of Balzac's debt to its author, see Volume III, page 161. --EDITOR. 

Yet Nature has her freaks in the making of a man's mind; she indulgesherself and makes a few honest folk now and again, and now and then acashier. 

Wherefore, that race of corsairs whom we dignify with the title ofbankers, the gentry who take out a license for which they pay athousand crowns, as the privateer takes out his letters of marque, holdthese rare products of the incubations of virtue in such esteem thatthey confine them in cages in their counting-houses, much asgovernments procure and maintain specimens of strange beasts at theirown charges. 

If the cashier is possessed of an imagination or of a fervidtemperament; if, as will sometimes happen to the most complete cashier, he loves his wife, and that wife grows tired of her lot, has ambitions, or merely some vanity in her composition, the cashier is undone. Searchthe chronicles of the counting-house. You will not find a singleinstance of a cashier attaining _a position_, as it is called. They aresent to the hulks; they go to foreign parts; they vegetate on a secondfloor in the Rue Saint-Louis among the market gardens of the Marais. Some day, when the cashiers of Paris come to a sense of their realvalue, a cashier will be hardly obtainable for money. Still, certain itis that there are people who are fit for nothing but to be cashiers, just as the bent of a certain order of mind inevitably makes forrascality. But, oh marvel of our civilization! Society rewards virtuewith an income of a hundred louis in old age, a dwelling on a secondfloor, bread sufficient, occasional new bandana handkerchiefs, anelderly wife and her offspring. 

So much for virtue. But for the opposite course, a little boldness, afaculty for keeping on the windward side of the law, as Turenneoutflanked Montecuculli, and Society will sanction the theft ofmillions, shower ribbons upon the thief, cram him with honors, andsmother him with consideration. 

Government, moreover, works harmoniously with this profoundly illogicalreasoner--Society. Government levies a conscription on the youngintelligence of the kingdom at the age of seventeen or eighteen, aconscription of precocious power. Great ability is prematurelyexhausted by excessive brain work before it is sent up to be submittedto a process of selection. Nurserymen sort and select seeds in much thesame way. To this process the Government brings professional appraisersof talent, men who can assay brains as experts assay gold at the Mint. Five hundred such heads, set afire with hope, are sent up annually bythe most progressive portion of the population; and of these theGovernment takes one third, puts them in sacks called the Écoles, andshakes them up together for three years. Though every one of theseyoung plants represents vast productive power, they are made, as onemay say, into cashiers. They receive appointments; the rank and file ofengineers is made up of them; they are employed as captains ofartillery; there is no (subaltern) grade to which they may not aspire. Finally, when these men, the pick of the youth of the nation, fattenedon mathematics and stuffed with knowledge, have attained the age offifty years, they have their reward, and receive as the price of theirservices the third-floor lodging, the wife and family, and all thecomforts that sweeten life for mediocrity. If from among this race ofdupes there should escape some five or six men of genius who climb thehighest heights, is it not miraculous?

This is an exact statement of the relations between Talent and Probityon the one hand, and Government and Society on the other, in an agethat considers itself to be progressive. Without this prefatoryexplanation a recent occurrence in Paris would seem improbable; butpreceded by this summing up of the situation, it will perhaps receivesome thoughtful attention from minds capable o£ recognizing the realplague spots of our civilization, a civilization which since 1815 hasbeen moved by the spirit of gain rather than by principles of honor. 

 * * * * *

About five o'clock, on a dull autumn afternoon, the cashier of one ofthe largest banks in Paris was still at his desk, working by the lightof a lamp that had been lit for some time. In accordance with the useand wont of commerce, the counting-house was in the darkest corner ofthe low-ceiled and far from spacious mezzanine floor, and at the veryend of a passage lighted only by borrowed lights. The office doorsalong this corridor, each with its label, gave the place the look of abath-house. At four o'clock the stolid porter had proclaimed, accordingto his orders, "The bank is closed. " And by this time the departmentswere deserted, the letters dispatched, the clerks had taken theirleave. The wives of the partners in the firm were expecting theirlovers; the two bankers dining with their mistresses. Everything was inorder. 

The place where the strong boxes had been bedded in sheet iron was justbehind the little sanctum, where the cashier was busy. Doubtless he wasbalancing his books. The open front gave a glimpse of a safe ofhammered iron, so enormously heavy (thanks to the science of the moderninventor) that burglars could not carry it away. The door only openedat the pleasure of those who knew its password. The letter-lock was awarden who kept its own secret and could not be bribed; the mysteriousword was an ingenious realization of the "Open sesame!" in the _ArabianNights_. But even this was as nothing. A man might discover thepassword; but unless he knew the lock's final secret, the _ultimaratio_ of this gold-guarding dragon of mechanical science, itdischarged a blunderbuss at his head. 

The door of the room, the walls of the room, the shutters of thewindows in the room, the whole place, in fact, was lined with sheetiron a third of an inch in thickness, concealed behind the thin woodenpaneling. The shutters had been closed, the door had been shut. If everman could feel confident that he was absolutely alone, and that therewas no remote possibility of being watched by prying eyes, that man wasthe cashier of the house of Nucingen and Company in the RueSaint-Lazare. 

Accordingly the deepest silence prevailed in that iron cave. The firehad died out in the stove, but the room was full of that tepid warmthwhich produces the dull heavy-headedness and nauseous queasiness of amorning after an orgy. The stove is a mesmerist that plays no smallpart in the reduction of bank clerks and porters to a state of idiocy. 

A room with a stove in it is a retort in which the power of strong menis evaporated, where their vitality is exhausted, and their willsenfeebled. Government offices are part of a great scheme for themanufacture of the mediocrity necessary for the maintenance of a FeudalSystem on a pecuniary basis--and money is the foundation of the SocialContract. (See _Les Employés_. ) The mephitic vapors in the atmosphereof a crowded room contribute in no small degree to bring about agradual deterioration of intelligences, the brain that gives off thelargest quantity of nitrogen asphyxiates the others, in the long run. 

The cashier was a man of five and forty or thereabouts. As he sat atthe table, the light from a moderator lamp shining full on his baldhead and glistening fringe of iron-gray hair that surrounded it--thisbaldness and the round outlines of his face made his head look verylike a ball. His complexion was brick-red, a few wrinkles had gatheredabout his eyes, but he had the smooth, plump hands of a stout man. Hisblue cloth coat, a little rubbed and worn, and the creases andshininess of his trousers, traces of hard wear that the clothes-brushfails to remove, would impress a superficial observer with the ideathat here was a thrifty and upright human being, sufficient of thephilosopher or of the aristocrat to wear shabby clothes. But, unluckily, it is easy to find penny-wise people who will prove weak, wasteful, or incompetent in the capital things of life. 

The cashier wore the ribbon of the Legion of Honor at his buttonhole, for he had been a major of dragoons in the time of the Emperor. M. DeNucingen, who had been a contractor before he became a banker, had hadreason in those days to know the honorable disposition of his cashier, who then occupied a high position. Reverses of fortune had befallen themajor, and the banker out of regard for him paid him five hundredfrancs a month. The soldier had become a cashier in the year 1813, after his recovery from a wound received at Studzianka during theRetreat from Moscow, followed by six months of enforced idleness atStrasbourg, whither several officers had been transported by order ofthe Emperor, that they might receive skilled attention. This particularofficer, Castanier by name, retired with the honorary grade of colonel, and a pension of two thousand four hundred francs. 

In ten years' time the cashier had completely effaced the soldier, andCastanier inspired the banker with such trust in him, that he wasassociated in the transactions that went on in the private officebehind his little counting-house. The baron himself had access to it bymeans of a secret staircase. There, matters of business were decided. It was the bolting room where proposals were sifted; the privy councilchamber where the reports of the money market were analyzed; circularnotes issued thence; and finally, the private ledger and the journalwhich summarized the work of all the departments were kept there. 

Castanier had gone himself to shut the door which opened on to astaircase that led to the parlor occupied by the two bankers on thefirst floor of their hotel. This done, he had sat down at his deskagain, and for a moment he gazed at a little collection of letters ofcredit drawn on the firm of Watschildine of London. Then he had takenup the pen and imitated the banker's signature upon each. _Nucingen_ hewrote, and eyed the forged signatures critically to see which seemedthe most perfect copy. 

Suddenly he looked up as if a needle had pricked him. "You are notalone!" a boding voice seemed to cry in his heart; and indeed theforger saw a man standing at the little grated window of thecounting-house, a man whose breathing was so noiseless that he did notseem to breathe at all. Castanier looked, and saw that the door at theend of the passage was wide open; the stranger must have entered bythat way. 

For the first time in his life the old soldier felt a sensation ofdread that made him stare open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the man beforehim; and for that matter, the appearance of the apparition wassufficiently alarming even if unaccompanied by the mysteriouscircumstances of so sudden an entry. The rounded forehead, the harshcoloring of the long oval face, indicated quite as plainly as the cutof his clothes that the man was an Englishman, reeking of his nativeisles. You had only to look at the collar of his overcoat, at thevoluminous cravat which smothered the crushed frills of a shirt frontso white that it brought out the changeless leaden hue of an impassiveface, and the thin red line of the lips that seemed made to suck theblood of corpses; and you could guess at once at the black gaitersbuttoned up to the knee, and the half-puritanical costume of a wealthyEnglishman dressed for a walking excursion. The intolerable glitter ofthe stranger's eyes produced a vivid and unpleasant impression, whichwas only deepened by the rigid outlines of his features. The dried-up, emaciated creature seemed to carry within him some gnawing thought thatconsumed him and could not be appeased. 

He must have digested his food so rapidly that he could doubtless eatcontinually without bringing any trace of color into his face orfeatures. A tun of Tokay _vin de succession_ would not have caused anyfaltering in that piercing glance that read men's inmost thoughts, nordethroned the merciless reasoning faculty that always seemed to go tothe bottom of things. There was something of the fell and tranquilmajesty of a tiger about him. 

"I have come to cash this bill of exchange, sir, " he said. Castanierfelt the tones of his voice thrill through every nerve with a violentshock similar to that given by a discharge of electricity. 

"The safe is closed, " said Castanier. 

"It is open, " said the Englishman, looking round the counting-house. "To-morrow is Sunday, and I cannot wait. The amount is for five hundredthousand francs. You have the money there, and I must have it. "

"But how did you come in, sir?"

The Englishman smiled. That smile frightened Castanier. No words couldhave replied more fully nor more peremptorily than that scornful andimperial curl of the stranger's lips. Castanier turned away, took upfifty packets, each containing ten thousand francs in bank notes, andheld them out to the stranger, receiving in exchange for them a billaccepted by the Baron de Nucingen. A sort of convulsive tremor ranthrough him as he saw a red gleam in the stranger's eyes when they fellon the forged signature on the letter of credit. 

"It . . . It wants your signature . . . " stammered Castanier, handing backthe bill. 

"Hand me your pen, " answered the Englishman. 

Castanier handed him the pen with which he had just committed forgery. The stranger wrote _John Melmoth_, then he returned the slip of paperand the pen to the cashier. Castanier looked at the handwriting, noticing that it sloped from right to left in the Eastern fashion, andMelmoth disappeared so noiselessly that when Castanier looked up againan exclamation broke from him, partly because the man was no longerthere, partly because he felt a strange painful sensation such as ourimagination might take for an effect of poison. 

The pen that Melmoth had handled sent the same sickening heat throughhim that an emetic produces. But it seemed impossible to Castanier thatthe Englishman should have guessed his crime. His inward qualms heattributed to the palpitation of the heart that, according to receivedideas, was sure to follow at once on such a "turn" as the stranger hadgiven him. 

"The devil take it; I am very stupid. Providence is watching over me;for if that brute had come round to see my gentlemen to-morrow, mygoose would have been cooked!" said Castanier, and he burned theunsuccessful attempts at forgery in the stove. 

He put the bill that he meant to take with him in an envelope, andhelped himself to five hundred thousand francs in French and Englishbank notes from the safe, which he locked. Then he put everything inorder, lit a candle, blew out the lamp, took up his hat and umbrella, and went out sedately, as usual, to leave one of the two keys of thestrong room with Madame de Nucingen, in the absence of her husband thebaron. 

"You are in luck, M. Castanier, " said the banker's wife as he enteredher room; "we have a holiday on Monday; you can go into the country, orto Soizy. "

"Madame, will you be so good as to tell your husband that the bill ofexchange on Watschildine, which was behind time, has just beenpresented? The five hundred thousand francs have been paid; so I shallnot come back till noon on Tuesday. "

"Good-by, monsieur; I hope you will have a pleasant time. "

"The same to you, madame, " replied the old dragoon as he went out. Heglanced as he spoke at a young man well known in fashionable society atthat time, a M. De Rastignac, who was regarded as Madame de Nucingen'slover. 

"Madame, " remarked this latter, "the old boy looks to me as if he meantto play you some ill turn. "

"Pshaw! impossible; he is too stupid. "

"Piquoizeau, " said the cashier, walking into the porter's room, "whatmade you let anybody come up after four o'clock?"

"I have been smoking a pipe here in the doorway ever since fouro'clock, " said the man, "and nobody has gone into the bank. Nobody hascome out either except the gentlemen--"

"Are you quite sure?"

"Yes, upon my word and honor. Stay, though, at four o'clock M. Werbrust's friend came, a young fellow from Messrs. Du Tillet & Co. , inthe Rue Joubert. "

"All right, " said Castanier, and he hurried away. 

The sickening sensation of heat that he had felt when he took back thepen returned in greater intensity. "_Mille diables!_" thought he, as hethreaded his way along the Boulevard de Gand, "haven't I taken properprecautions? Let me think! Two clear days, Sunday and Monday, then aday of uncertainty before they begin to look for me; altogether, threedays and four nights' respite. I have a couple of passports and twodifferent disguises; is not that enough to throw the cleverestdetective off the scent? On Tuesday morning I shall draw a millionfrancs in London before the slightest suspicion has been aroused. Mydebts I am leaving behind for the benefit of my creditors, who will puta 'P'[1] on the bills, and I shall live comfortably in Italy for therest of my days as the Conte Ferraro. I was alone with him when hedied, poor fellow, in the marsh of Zembin, and I shall slip into hisskin. . . . _Mille diables!_ the woman who is to follow after me mightgive them a clew! Think of an old campaigner like me infatuated enoughto tie myself to a petticoat tail!. . . Why take her? I must leave herbehind. Yes, I could make up my mind to it; but--I know myself--Ishould be ass enough to go back for her. Still, nobody knows Aquilina. Shall I take her or leave her?"

 [1] Protested. 

"You will not take her!" cried a voice that filled Castanier withsickening dread. He turned sharply, and saw the Englishman. 

"The devil is in it!" cried the cashier aloud. 

Melmoth had passed his victim by this time; and if Castanier's firstimpulse had been to fasten a quarrel on a man who read his ownthoughts, he was so much torn by opposing feelings that the immediateresult was a temporary paralysis. When he resumed his walk he fell oncemore into that fever of irresolution which besets those who are socarried away by passion that they are ready to commit a crime, but havenot sufficient strength of character to keep it to themselves withoutsuffering terribly in the process. So, although Castanier had made uphis mind to reap the fruits of a crime which was already half executed, he hesitated to carry out his designs. For him, as for many men ofmixed character in whom weakness and strength are equally blended, theleast trifling consideration determines whether they shall continue tolead blameless lives or become actively criminal. In the vast masses ofmen enrolled in Napoleon's armies there were many who, like Castanier, possessed the purely physical courage demanded on the battlefield, yetlacked the moral courage which makes a man as great in crime as hecould have been in virtue. 

The letter of credit was drafted in such terms that immediately on hisarrival he might draw twenty-five thousand pounds on the firm ofWatschildine, the London correspondents of the house of Nucingen. TheLondon house had been already advised of the draft about to be madeupon them; he had written to them himself. He had instructed an agent(chosen at random) to take his passage in a vessel which was to leavePortsmouth with a wealthy English family on board, who were going toItaly, and the passage money had been paid in the name of the ConteFerraro. The smallest details of the scheme had been thought out. Hehad arranged matters so as to divert the search that would be made forhim into Belgium and Switzerland, while he himself was at sea in theEnglish vessel. Then, by the time that Nucingen might flatter himselfthat he was on the track of his late cashier, the said cashier, as theConte Ferraro, hoped to be safe in Naples. He had determined todisfigure his face in order to disguise himself the more completely, and by means of an acid to imitate the scars of smallpox. Yet, in spiteof all these precautions, which surely seemed as if they must securehim complete immunity, his conscience tormented him; he was afraid. Theeven and peaceful life that he had led for so long had modified themorality of the camp. His life was stainless as yet; he could not sullyit without a pang. So for the last time he abandoned himself to all theinfluences of the better self that strenuously resisted. 

"Pshaw!" he said at last, at the corner of the Boulevard and the RueMontmartre, "I will take a cab after the play this evening and go outto Versailles. A post-chaise will be ready for me at my oldquartermaster's place. He would keep my secret even if a dozen men werestanding ready to shoot him down. The chances are all in my favor, sofar as I see; so I shall take my little Naqui with me, and I will go. "

"You will not go!" exclaimed the Englishman, and the strange tones ofhis voice drove all the cashier's blood back to his heart. 

Melmoth stepped into a tilbury which was waiting for him, and waswhirled away so quickly, that when Castanier looked up he saw his foesome hundred paces away from him, and before it even crossed his mindto cut off the man's retreat the tilbury was far on its way up theBoulevard Montmartre. 

"Well, upon my word, there is something supernatural about this!" saidhe to himself. "If I were fool enough to believe in God, I should thinkthat He had set Saint Michael on my tracks. Suppose that the devil andthe police should let me go on as I please, so as to nab me in the nickof time? Did anyone ever see the like! But there, this is folly. . . . "

Castanier went along the Rue du Faubourg-Montmartre, slackening hispace as he neared the Rue Richer. There, on the second floor of a blockof buildings which looked out upon some gardens, lived the unconsciouscause of Castanier's crime--a young woman known in the quarter as Mme. De la Garde. A concise history of certain events in the cashier's pastlife must be given in order to explain these facts, and to give acomplete presentment of the crisis when he yielded to temptation. 

Mme. De la Garde said that she was a Piedmontese. No one, not evenCastanier, knew her real name. She was one of those young girls who aredriven by dire misery, by inability to earn a living, or by fear ofstarvation, to have recourse to a trade which most of them loathe, manyregard with indifference, and some few follow in obedience to the lawsof their constitution. But on the brink of the gulf of prostitution inParis, the young girl of sixteen, beautiful and pure as the Madonna, had met with Castanier. The old dragoon was too rough and homely tomake his way in society, and he was tired of tramping the boulevard atnight and of the kind of conquests made there by gold. For some timepast he had desired to bring a certain regularity into an irregularlife. He was struck by the beauty of the poor child who had drifted bychance into his arms, and his determination to rescue her from the lifeof the streets was half benevolent, half selfish, as some of thethoughts of the best of men are apt to be. Social conditions mingleelements of evil with the promptings of natural goodness of heart, andthe mixture of motives underlying a man's intentions should beleniently judged. Castanier had just cleverness enough to be veryshrewd where his own interests were concerned. So he concluded to be aphilanthropist on either count, and at first made her his mistress. 

"Hey! hey!" he said to himself, in his soldierly fashion, "I am an oldwolf, and a sheep shall not make a fool of me. Castanier, old man, before you set up housekeeping, reconnoiter the girl's character for abit, and see if she is a steady sort. "

This irregular union gave the Piedmontese a status the most nearlyapproaching respectability among those which the world declines torecognize. During the first year she took the _nom de guerre_ ofAquilina, one of the characters in _Venice Preserved_ which she hadchanced to read. She fancied that she resembled the courtesan in faceand general appearance, and in a certain precocity of heart and brainof which she was conscious. When Castanier found that her life was aswell regulated and virtuous as was possible for a social outlaw, hemanifested a desire that they should live as husband and wife. So shetook the name of Mme. De la Garde, in order to approach, as closely asParisian usages permit, the conditions of a real marriage. As a matterof fact, many of these unfortunate girls have one fixed idea, to belooked upon as respectable middle-class women, who lead humdrum livesof faithfulness to their husbands; women who would make excellentmothers, keepers of household accounts, and menders of household linen. This longing springs from a sentiment so laudable that society shouldtake it into consideration. But society, incorrigible as ever, willassuredly persist in regarding the married woman as a corvette dulyauthorized by her flag and papers to go on her own course, while thewoman who is a wife in all but name is a pirate and an outlaw for lackof a document. A day came when Mme. De la Garde would fain have signedherself "Mme. Castanier. " The cashier was put out by this. 

"So you do not love me well enough to marry me?" she said. 

Castanier did not answer; he was absorbed by his thoughts. The poorgirl resigned herself to her fate. The ex-dragoon was in despair. Naqui's heart softened toward him at the sight of his trouble; shetried to soothe him, but what could she do when she did not know whatailed him? When Naqui made up her mind to know the secret, although shenever asked him a question, the cashier dolefully confessed to theexistence of a Mme. Castanier. This lawful wife, a thousand timesaccursed, was living in a humble way in Strasbourg on a small propertythere; he wrote to her twice a year, and kept the secret of herexistence so well, that no one suspected that he was married. Thereason of this reticence? If it is familiar to many military men whomay chance to be in a like predicament, it is perhaps worth while togive the story. 

Your genuine trooper (if it is allowable here to employ the word whichin the army signifies a man who is destined to die as a captain) is asort of serf, a part and parcel of his regiment, an essentially simplecreature, and Castanier was marked out by nature as a victim to thewiles of mothers with grown-up daughters left too long on their hands. It was at Nancy, during one of those brief intervals of repose when theImperial armies were not on active service abroad, that Castanier wasso unlucky as to pay some attention to a young lady with whom he dancedat a _ridotto_, the provincial name for the entertainments often givenby the military to the townsfolk, or _vice versâ_, in garrison towns. Ascheme for inveigling the gallant captain into matrimony wasimmediately set on foot, one of those schemes by which mothers secureaccomplices in a human heart by touching all its motive springs, whilethey convert all their friends into fellow-conspirators. Like allpeople possessed by one idea, these ladies press everything into theservice of their great project, slowly elaborating their toils, much asthe ant-lion excavates its funnel in the sand and lies in wait at thebottom for its victim. Suppose that no one strays, after all, into thatcarefully constructed labyrinth? Suppose that the ant-lion dies ofhunger and thirst in her pit? Such things may be, but if any heedlesscreature once enters in, it never comes out. All the wires which couldbe pulled to induce action on the captain's part were tried; appealswere made to the secret interested motives that always come into playin such cases; they worked on Castanier's hopes and on the weaknessesand vanity of human nature. Unluckily, he had praised the daughter toher mother when he brought her back after a waltz, a little chatfollowed, and then an invitation in the most natural way in the world. Once introduced into the house, the dragoon was dazzled by thehospitality of a family who appeared to conceal their real wealthbeneath a show of careful economy. He was skillfully flattered on allsides, and everyone extolled for his benefit the various treasuresthere displayed. A neatly timed dinner, served on plate lent by anuncle, the attention shown to him by the only daughter of the house, the gossip of the town, a well-to-do sub-lieutenant who seemed likelyto cut the ground from under his feet--all the innumerable snares, inshort, of the provincial ant-lion were set for him, and to such goodpurpose, that Castanier said five years later, "To this day I do notknow how it came about!"

The dragoon received fifteen thousand francs with the lady, who, aftertwo years of marriage, became the ugliest and consequently the mostpeevish woman on earth. Luckily they had no children. The faircomplexion (maintained by a Spartan regimen), the fresh, bright colorin her face, which spoke of an engaging modesty, became overspread withblotches and pimples; her figure, which had seemed so straight, grewcrooked, the angel became a suspicious and shrewish creature who droveCastanier frantic. Then the fortune took to itself wings. At length thedragoon, no longer recognizing the woman whom he had wedded, left herto live on a little property at Strasbourg, until the time when itshould please God to remove her to adorn Paradise. She was one of thosevirtuous women who, for want of other occupation, would weary the lifeout of an angel with complainings, who pray till (if their prayers areheard in heaven) they must exhaust the patience of the Almighty, andsay everything that is bad of their husbands in dove-like murmurs overa game of boston with their neighbors. When Aquilina learned all thesetroubles she clung still more affectionately to Castanier, and made himso happy, varying with woman's ingenuity the pleasures with which shefilled his life, that all unwittingly she was the cause of thecashier's downfall. 

Like many women who seem by nature destined to sound all the depths oflove, Mme. De la Garde was disinterested. She asked neither for goldnor for jewelry, gave no thought to the future, lived entirely for thepresent and for the pleasures of the present. She accepted expensiveornaments and dresses, the carriage so eagerly coveted by women of herclass, as one harmony the more in the picture of life. There wasabsolutely no vanity in her desire not to appear at a better advantagebut to look the fairer, and, moreover, no woman could live withoutluxuries more cheerfully. When a man of generous nature (and militarymen are mostly of this stamp) meets with such a woman, he feels a sortof exasperation at finding himself her debtor in generosity. He feelsthat he could stop a mail coach to obtain money for her if he has notsufficient for her whims. He will commit a crime if so he may be greatand noble in the eyes of some woman or of his special public; such isthe nature of the man. Such a lover is like a gambler who would bedishonored in his own eyes if he did not repay the sum he borrowed froma waiter in a gaming house; but will shrink from no crime, will leavehis wife and children without a penny, and rob and murder, if so he maycome to the gaming table with a full purse, and his honor remainuntarnished among the frequenters of that fatal abode. So it was withCastanier. 

He had begun by installing Aquilina in a modest fourth-floor dwelling, the furniture being of the simplest kind. But when he saw the girl'sbeauty and great qualities, when he had known inexpressible andunlooked-for happiness with her, he began to dote upon her, and longedto adorn his idol. Then Aquilina's toilet was so comically out ofkeeping with her poor abode, that for both their sakes it was clearlyincumbent on him to move. The change swallowed up almost allCastanier's savings, for he furnished his domestic paradise with allthe prodigality that is lavished on a kept mistress. A pretty womanmust have everything pretty about her; the unity of charm in the womanand her surroundings singles her out from among her sex. This sentimentof homogeneity indeed, though it has frequently escaped the attentionof observers, is instinctive in human nature; and the same promptingleads elderly spinsters to surround themselves with dreary relies ofthe past. But the lovely Piedmontese must have the newest and latestfashions, and all that was daintiest and prettiest in stuffs forhangings, in silks or jewelry, in fine china and other brittle andfragile wares. She asked for nothing; but when she was called upon tomake a choice, when Castanier asked her, "Which do you like?" she wouldanswer, "Why, this is the nicest!" Love never counts the cost, andCastanier therefore always took the "nicest. "

When once the standard had been set up, there was nothing for it buteverything in the household must be in conformity, from the linen, plate, and crystal through a thousand and one items of expenditure downto the pots and pans in the kitchen. Castanier had meant to "do thingssimply, " as the saying goes, but he gradually found himself more andmore in debt. One expense entailed another. The clock called for candlesconces. Fires must be lighted in the ornamental grates, but thecurtains and hangings were too fresh and delicate to be soiled bysmuts, so they must be replaced by patent and elaborate fireplaces, warranted to give out no smoke, recent inventions of the people who areclever at drawing up a prospectus. Then Aquilina found it so nice torun about barefooted on the carpet in her room that Castanier must havesoft carpets laid everywhere for the pleasure of playing with Naqui. Abathroom, too, was built for her, everything to the end that she mightbe more comfortable. 

Shopkeepers, workmen, and manufacturers in Paris have a mysteriousknack of enlarging a hole in a man's purse. They cannot give the priceof anything upon inquiry; and as the paroxysm of longing cannot abidedelay, orders are given by the feeble light of an approximate estimateof cost. The same people never send in the bills at once, but ply thepurchaser with furniture till his head spins. Everything is so pretty, so charming; and everyone is satisfied. 

A few months later the obliging furniture dealers are metamorphosed, and reappear in the shape of alarming totals on invoices that fill thesoul with their horrid clamor; they are in urgent want of the money;they are, as you may say, on the brink of bankruptcy, their tears flow, it is heartrending to hear them! And then--the gulf yawns and gives upserried columns of figures marching four deep; when as a matter of factthey should have issued innocently three by three. 

Before Castanier had any idea of how much he had spent, he had arrangedfor Aquilina to have a carriage from a livery stable when she went out, instead of a cab. Castanier was a gourmand; he engaged an excellentcook; and Aquilina, to please him, had herself made the purchases ofearly fruit and vegetables, rare delicacies, and exquisite wines. But, as Aquilina had nothing of her own, these gifts of hers, so precious byreason of the thought and tact and graciousness that prompted them, were no less a drain upon Castanier's purse; he did not like his Naquito be without money, and Naqui could not keep money in her pocket. Sothe table was a heavy item of expenditure for a man with Castanier'sincome. The ex-dragoon was compelled to resort to various shifts forobtaining money, for he could not bring himself to renounce thisdelightful life. He loved the woman too well to cross the freaks of themistress. He was one of those men who, through self-love or throughweakness of character, can refuse nothing to a woman; false shameoverpowers them, and they rather face ruin than make the admissions: "Icannot--" "My means will not permit--" "I cannot afford--"

When, therefore, Castanier saw that if he meant to emerge from theabyss of debt into which he had plunged, he must part with Aquilina andlive upon bread and water, he was so unable to do without her or tochange his habits of life, that daily he put off his plans of reformuntil the morrow. The debts were pressing, and he began by borrowingmoney. His position and previous character inspired confidence, and ofthis he took advantage to devise a system of borrowing money as herequired it. Then, as the total amount of debt rapidly increased, hehad recourse to those commercial inventions known as _accommodationbills_. This form of bill does not represent goods or other valuereceived, and the first indorser pays the amount named for the obligingperson who accepts it. This species of fraud is tolerated because it isimpossible to detect it, and, moreover, it is an imaginary fraud whichonly becomes real if payment is ultimately refused. 

When at length it was evidently impossible to borrow any longer, whether because the amount of the debt was now so greatly increased, orbecause Castanier was unable to pay the large amount of interest on theaforesaid sums of money, the cashier saw bankruptcy before him. Onmaking this discovery, he decided for a fraudulent bankruptcy ratherthan an ordinary failure, and preferred a crime to a misdemeanor. Hedetermined, after the fashion of the celebrated cashier of the RoyalTreasury, to abuse the trust deservedly won, and to increase the numberof his creditors by making a final loan of the sum sufficient to keephim in comfort in a foreign country for the rest of his days. All this, as has been seen, he had prepared to do. 

Aquilina knew nothing of the irksome cares of this life; she enjoyedher existence, as many a woman does, making no inquiry as to where themoney came from, even as sundry other folk will eat their butteredrolls untroubled by any restless spirit of curiosity as to the cultureand growth of wheat; but as the labor and miscalculations ofagriculture lie on the other side of the baker's oven, so, beneath theunappreciated luxury of many a Parisian household lie intolerableanxieties and exorbitant toil. 

While Castanier was enduring the torture of the strain, and histhoughts were full of the deed that should change his whole life, Aquilina was lying luxuriously back in a great armchair by thefireside, beguiling the time by chatting with her waiting-maid. Asfrequently happens in such cases, the maid had become the mistress'sconfidante, Jenny having first assured herself that her mistress'sascendancy over Castanier was complete. 

What are we to do this evening? Léon seems determined to come, " Mme. Dela Garde was saying, as she read a passionate epistle indicted upon afaint gray note paper. 

"Here is the master!" said Jenny. 

Castanier came in. Aquilina, nowise disconcerted, crumpled up theletter, took it with the tongs, and held it in the flames. 

"So that is what you do with your love letters, is it?" askedCastanier. 

"Oh, goodness, yes, " said Aquilina; "is it not the best way of keepingthem safe? Besides, fire should go to the fire, as water makes for theriver. "

"You are talking as if it were a real love letter, Naqui--"

"Well, am I not handsome enough to receive them?" she said, holding upher forehead for a kiss. There was a carelessness in her manner thatwould have told any man less blind than Castanier that it was only apiece of conjugal duty, as it were, to give this joy to the cashier;but use and wont had brought Castanier to the point whereclear-sightedness is no longer possible for love. 

"I have taken a box at the Gymnase this evening, " he said; "let us havedinner early, and then we need not dine in a hurry. "

"Go and take Jenny. I am tired of plays. I do not know what is thematter with me this evening; I would rather stay here by the fire. "

"Come, all the same though, Naqui; I shall not be here to bore you muchlonger. Yes, Quiqui, I am going to start to-night, and it will be sometime before I come back again. I am leaving everything in your charge. Will you keep your heart for me too?"

"Neither my heart nor anything else, " she said; "but when you come backagain, Naqui will still be Naqui for you. "

"Well, this is frankness. So you would not follow me?"

"No. "

"Why not?"

"Eh! why, how can I leave the lover who writes me such sweet littlenotes?" she asked, pointing to the blackened scrap of paper with amocking smile. 

"Is there any truth in it?" asked Castanier. "Have you really a lover?"

"Really!" cried Aquilina; "and have you never given it a seriousthought, dear? To begin with, you are fifty years old. Then you havejust the sort of face to put on a fruit stall; if the woman tried tosell you for a pumpkin, no one would contradict her. You puff and blowlike a seal when you come upstairs; your paunch rises and falls likethe diamond on a woman's forehead! It is pretty plain that you servedin the dragoons; you are a very ugly-looking old man. Fiddle-de-dee. Ifyou have any mind to keep my respect, I recommend you not to addimbecility to these qualities by imagining that such a girl as I amwill be content with your asthmatic love, and not look for youth andgood looks and pleasure by way of variety--"

"Aquilina! you are laughing, of course?"

"Oh, very well; and are you not laughing too? Do you take me for afool, telling me that you are going away? 'I am going to startto-night!'" she said, mimicking his tones. "Stuff and nonsense! Wouldyou talk like that if you were really going away from your Naqui? Youwould cry, like the booby that you are!"

"After all, if I go, will you follow?" he asked. 

"Tell me first whether this journey of yours is a bad joke or not. "

"Yes, seriously, I am going. "

"Well, then, seriously, I shall stay. A pleasant journey to you, myboy! I will wait till you come back. I would sooner take leave of lifethan take leave of my dear, cozy Paris--"

"Will you not come to Italy, to Naples, and lead a pleasant lifethere--a delicious, luxurious life, with this stout old fogey of yours, who puffs and blows like a seal?"

"No. "

"Ungrateful girl!"

"Ungrateful?" she cried, rising to her feet. "I might leave this housethis moment and take nothing out of it but myself. I shall have givenyou all the treasures a young girl can give, and something that notevery drop in your veins and mine can ever give me back. If, by anymeans whatever, by selling my hopes of eternity, for instance, I couldrecover my past self, body as soul (for I have, perhaps, redeemed mysoul), and be pure as a lily for my lover I would not hesitate amoment! What sort of devotion has rewarded mine? You have housed andfed me, just as you give a dog food and a kennel because he is aprotection to the house, and he may take kicks when we are out ofhumor, and lick our hands as soon as we are pleased to call to him. Andwhich of us two will have been the more generous?"

"Oh! dear child, do you not see that I am joking?" returned Castanier. "I am going on a short journey; I shall not be away for very long. Butcome with me to the Gymnase; I shall start just before midnight, afterI have had time to say good-by to you. "

"Poor pet! so you are really going, are you?" she said. She put herarms round his neck, and drew down his head against her bodice. 

"You are smothering me!" cried Castanier, with his face buried inAquilina's breast. That damsel turned to say in Jenny's ear, "Go toLéon, and tell him not to come till one o'clock. If you do not findhim, and he comes here during the leave-taking, keep him in yourroom. --Well, " she went on, setting free Castanier, and giving a tweakto the tip of his nose, "never mind, handsomest of seals that you are. I will go to the theater with you this evening. But all in good time;let us have dinner! There is a nice little dinner for you--just whatyou like. "

"It is very hard to part from such a woman as you!" exclaimedCastanier. 

"Very well then, why do you go?" asked she. 

"Ah! why? why? If I were to begin to explain the reasons why, I musttell you things that would prove to you that I love you almost tomadness. Ah! if you have sacrificed your honor for me, I have sold minefor you; we are quits. Is that love?"

"What is all this about?" said she. "Come, now, promise me that if Ihad a lover you would still love me as a father; that would be love!Come, now, promise it at once, and give us your fist upon it. "

"I should kill you, " and Castanier smiled as he spoke. 

They sat down to the dinner table, and went thence to the Gymnase. Whenthe first part of the performance was over, it occurred to Castanier toshow himself to some of his acquaintances in the house, so as to turnaway any suspicion of his departure. He left Mme. De la Garde in thecorner box where she was seated, according to her modest wont, and wentto walk up and down in the lobby. He had not gone many paces before hesaw the Englishman, and with a sudden return of the sickening sensationof heat that once before had vibrated through him, and of the terrorthat he had felt already, he stood face to face with Melmoth. 

"Forger!"

At the word, Castanier glanced round at the people who were movingabout them. He fancied that he could see astonishment and curiosity intheir eyes, and wishing to be rid of this Englishman at once, he raisedhis hand to strike him--and felt his arm paralyzed by some invisiblepower that sapped his strength and nailed him to the spot. He allowedthe stranger to take him by the arm, and they walked together to thegreenroom like two friends. 

"Who is strong enough to resist me?" said the Englishman, addressinghim. "Do you not know that everything here on earth must obey me, thatit is in my power to do everything? I read men's thoughts, I see thefuture, and I know the past. I am here, and I can be elsewhere also. Time and space and distance are nothing to me. The whole world is at mybeck and call. I have the power of continual enjoyment and of givingjoy. I can see through walls, discover hidden treasures, and fill myhands with them. Palaces arise at my nod, and my architect makes nomistakes. I can make all lands break forth into blossom, heap up theirgold and precious stones, and surround myself with fair women and evernew faces; everything is yielded up to my will. I could gamble on theStock Exchange, and my speculations would be infallible; but a man whocan find the hoards that misers have hidden in the earth need nottrouble himself about stocks. Feel the strength of the hand that graspsyou; poor wretch, doomed to shame! Try to bend the arm of iron! try tosoften the adamantine heart! Fly from me if you dare! You would hear myvoice in the depths of the caves that lie under the Seine; you mighthide in the Catacombs, but would you not see me there? My voice couldbe heard through the sound of the thunder, my eyes shine as brightly asthe sun, for I am the peer of Lucifer!"

Castanier heard the terrible words, and felt no protest norcontradiction within himself. He walked side by side with theEnglishman, and had no power to leave him. 

"You are mine; you have just committed a crime. I have found at lastthe mate whom I have sought. Have you a mind to learn your destiny?Aha! you came here to see a play, and you shall see a play--nay, two. Come. Present me to Mme. De la Garde as one of your best friends. Am Inot your last hope of escape?"

Castanier, followed by the stranger, returned to his box; and inaccordance with the order he had just received, he hastened tointroduce Melmoth to Mme. De la Garde. Aquilina seemed to be not in theleast surprised. The Englishman declined to take a seat in front, andCastanier was once more beside his mistress; the man's slightest wishmust be obeyed. The last piece was about to begin, for, at that time, small theaters only gave three pieces. One of the actors had made theGymnase the fashion, and that evening Perlet (the actor in question)was to play in a vaudeville called _Le Comédien d'Étampes_, in which hefilled four different parts. 

When the curtain rose, the stranger stretched out his hand over thecrowded house. Castanier's cry of terror died away, for the walls ofhis throat seemed glued together as Melmoth pointed to the stage, andthe cashier knew that the play had been changed at the Englishman'sdesire. 

He saw the strong room at the bank; he saw the Baron de Nucingen inconference with a police officer from the prefecture, who was informinghim of Castanier's conduct, explaining that the cashier had abscondedwith money taken from the safe, giving the history of the forgedsignature. The information was put in writing; the document signed andduly dispatched to the public prosecutor. 

"Are we in time, do you think?" asked Nucingen. 

"Yes, " said the agent of police; "he is at the Gymnase, and has nosuspicion of anything. "

Castanier fidgeted on his chair, and made as if he would leave thetheater, but Melmoth's hand lay on his shoulder, and he was obliged tosit and watch; the hideous power of the man produced an effect likethat of nightmare, and he could not move a limb. Nay, the man himselfwas the nightmare; his presence weighed heavily on his victim like apoisoned atmosphere. When the wretched cashier turned to implore theEnglishman's mercy, he met those blazing eyes that discharged electriccurrents, which pierced through him and transfixed him like darts ofsteel. 

"What have I done to you?" he said, in his prostrate helplessness, andhe breathed hard like a stag at the water's edge. "What do you want ofme?"

"Look!" cried Melmoth. 

Castanier looked at the stage. The scene had been changed. The playseemed to be over, and Castanier beheld himself stepping from thecarriage with Aquilina; but as he entered the courtyard of the house inthe Rue Richer, the scene again was suddenly changed, and he saw hisown house. Jenny was chatting by the fire in her mistress's room with asubaltern officer of a line regiment then stationed at Paris. 

"He is going, is he?" said the sergeant, who seemed to belong to afamily in easy circumstances; "I can be happy at my ease! I loveAquilina too well to allow her to belong to that old toad! I, myself, am going to marry Mme. De la Garde!" cried the sergeant. 

"Old toad!" Castanier murmured piteously. 

"Here come the master and mistress; hide yourself! Stay, get in here, Monsieur Léon, " said Jenny. "The master won't stay here for very long. "

Castanier watched the sergeant hide himself among Aquilina's gowns inher dressing room. Almost immediately he himself appeared upon thescene, and took leave of his mistress, who made fun of him in "asides"to Jenny, while she uttered the sweetest and tenderest words in hisears. She wept with one side of her face, and laughed with the other. The audience called for an encore. 

"Accursed creature!" cried Castanier from his box. 

Aquilina was laughing till the tears came into her eyes. 

"Goodness!" she cried, "how funny Perlet is as the Englishwoman!. . . Whydon't you laugh? Everyone else in the house is laughing. Laugh, dear!"she said to Castanier. 

Melmoth burst out laughing, and the unhappy cashier shuddered. TheEnglishman's laughter wrung his heart and tortured his brain; it was asif a surgeon had bored his skull with a red-hot iron. 

"Laughing! are they laughing?" stammered Castanier. 

He did not see the prim English lady whom Perlet was acting with suchludicrous effect, nor hear the English-French that had filled the housewith roars of laughter; instead of all this, he beheld himself hurryingfrom the Rue Richer, hailing a cab on the Boulevard, bargaining withthe man to take him to Versailles. Then once more the scene changed. Herecognized the sorry inn at the corner of the Rue de l'Orangerie andthe Rue des Récollets, which was kept by his old quartermaster. It wastwo o'clock in the morning, the most perfect stillness prevailed, noone was there to watch his movements. The post-horses were put into thecarriage (it came from a house in the Avenue de Paris in which anEnglishman lived, and had been ordered in the foreigner's name to avoidraising suspicion). Castanier saw that he had his bills and hispassports, stepped into the carriage, and set out. But at the barrierhe saw two gendarmes lying in wait for the carriage. A cry of horrorburst from him, but Melmoth gave him a glance, and again the sound diedin his throat. 

"Keep your eyes on the stage, and be quiet!" said the Englishman. 

In another moment Castanier saw himself flung into prison at theConciergerie; and in the fifth act of the drama, entitled _TheCashier_, he saw himself, in three months' time, condemned to twentyyears of penal servitude. Again a cry broke from him. He was exposedupon the Place du Palais-de-Justice, and the executioner branded himwith a red-hot iron. Then came the last scene of all; among some sixtyconvicts in the prison yard of the Bicêtre, he was awaiting his turn tohave the irons riveted on his limbs. 

"Dear me! I cannot laugh any more!. . . " said Aquilina. "You are verysolemn, dear boy; what can be the matter? The gentleman has gone. "

"A word with you, Castanier, " said Melmoth when the piece was at anend, and the attendant was fastening Mme. De la Garde's cloak. 

The corridor was crowded, and escape impossible. 

"Very well, what is it?"

"No human power can hinder you from taking Aquilina home, and goingnext to Versailles, there to be arrested. "

"How so?"

"Because you are in a hand that will never relax its grasp, " returnedthe Englishman. 

Castanier longed for the power to utter some word that should blot himout from among living men and hide him in the lowest depths of hell. 

"Suppose that the devil were to make a bid for your soul, would you notgive it to him now in exchange for the power of God? One single word, and those five hundred thousand francs shall be back in the Baron deNucingen's safe; then you can tear up your letter of credit, and alltraces of your crime will be obliterated. Moreover, you would have goldin torrents. You hardly believe in anything perhaps? Well, if all thiscomes to pass, you will believe at least in the devil. "

"If it were only possible!" said Castanier joyfully. 

"The man who can do it all gives you his word that it is possible, "answered the Englishman. 

Melmoth, Castanier, and Mme. De la Garde were standing out in theBoulevard when Melmoth raised his arm. A drizzling rain was falling, the streets were muddy, the air was close, there was thick darknessoverhead; but in a moment, as the arm was outstretched, Paris wasfilled with sunlight; it was high noon on a bright July day. The treeswere covered with leaves; a double stream of joyous holiday makersstrolled beneath them. Sellers of licorice water shouted their cooldrinks. Splendid carriages rolled past along the streets. A cry ofterror broke from the cashier, and at that cry rain and darkness oncemore settled down upon the Boulevard. 

Mme. De la Garde had stepped into the carriage. "Do be quick, dear!"she cried; "either come in or stay out. Really, you are as dull asditch-water this evening--"

"What must I do?" Castanier asked of Melmoth. 

"Would you like to take my place?" inquired the Englishman. 

"Yes. "

"Very well, then; I will be at your house in a few moments. "

"By the bye, Castanier, you are rather off your balance, " Aquilinaremarked. "There is some mischief brewing; you were quite melancholyand thoughtful all through the play. Do you want anything that I cangive you, dear? Tell me. "

"I am waiting till we are at home to know whether you love me. "

"You need not wait till then, " she said, throwing her arms round hisneck. "There!" she said, as she embraced him, passionately to allappearance, and plied him with the coaxing caresses that are part ofthe business of such a life as hers, like stage action for an actress. 

"Where is the music?" asked Castanier. 

"What next? Only think of your hearing music now!"

"Heavenly music!" he went on. "The sounds seem to come from above. "

"What? You have always refused to give me a box at the Italiens becauseyou could not abide music, and are you turning music-mad at this timeof day? Mad--that you are! The music is inside your own noddle, oldaddle-pate!" she went on, as she took his head in her hands and rockedit to and fro on her shoulder. "Tell me now, old man; isn't it thecreaking of the wheels that sings in your ears?"

"Just listen, Naqui! If the angels make music for God Almighty, it mustbe such music as this that I am drinking in at every pore, rather thanhearing. I do not know how to tell you about it; it is as sweet ashoney water!"

"Why, of course, they have music in heaven, for the angels in all thepictures have harps in their hands. He is mad, upon my word!" she saidto herself, as she saw Castanier's attitude; he looked like an opiumeater in a blissful trance. 

They reached the house. Castanier, absorbed by the thought of all thathe had just heard and seen, knew not whether to believe it or no; hewas like a drunken man, and utterly unable to think connectedly. Hecame to himself in Aquilina's room, whither he had been supported bythe united efforts of his mistress, the porter, and Jenny; for he hadfainted as he stepped from the carriage. 

"_He_ will be here directly! Oh, my friends, my friends!" he cried, andhe flung himself despairingly into the depths of a low chair beside thefire. 

Jenny heard the bell as he spoke, and admitted the Englishman. Sheannounced that "a gentleman had come who had made an appointment withthe master, " when Melmoth suddenly appeared, and deep silence followed. He looked at the porter--the porter went; he looked at Jenny--and Jennywent likewise. 

"Madame, " said Melmoth, turning to Aquilina, "with your permission, wewill conclude a piece of urgent business. "

He took Castanier's hand, and Castanier rose, and the two men went intothe drawing-room. There was no light in the room, but Melmoth's eyeslit up the thickest darkness. The gaze of those strange eyes had leftAquilina like one spellbound; she was helpless, unable to take anythought for her lover; moreover, she believed him to be safe in Jenny'sroom, whereas their early return had taken the waiting woman bysurprise, and she had hidden the officer in the dressing room. It hadall happened exactly as in the drama that Melmoth had displayed for hisvictim. Presently the house door was slammed violently, and Castanierreappeared. 

"What ails you?" cried the horror-struck Aquilina. 

There was a change in the cashier's appearance. A strange palloroverspread his once rubicund countenance; it wore the peculiarlysinister and stony look of the mysterious visitor. The sullen glare ofhis eyes was intolerable, the fierce light in them seemed to scorch. The man who had looked so good-humored and good-natured had suddenlygrown tyrannical and proud. The courtesan thought that Castanier hadgrown thinner; there was a terrible majesty in his brow; it was as if adragon breathed forth a malignant influence that weighed upon theothers like a close, heavy atmosphere. For a moment Aquilina knew notwhat to do. 

"What passed between you and that diabolical-looking man in those fewminutes?" she asked at length. 

"I have sold my soul to him. I feel it; I am no longer the same. He hastaken my _self_, and given me his soul in exchange. "

"What?"

"You would not understand it at all. . . . Ah! he was right, " Castanierwent on, "the fiend was right! I see everything and know allthings. --You have been deceiving me!"

Aquilina turned cold with terror. Castanier lighted a candle and wentinto the dressing room. The unhappy girl followed him in dazedbewilderment, and great was her astonishment when Castanier drew thedresses that hung there aside and disclosed the sergeant. 

"Come out, my boy, " said the cashier; and, taking Léon by a button ofhis overcoat, he drew the officer into his room. 

The Piedmontese, haggard and desperate, had flung herself into her easychair. Castanier seated himself on a sofa by the fire, and leftAquilina's lover in a standing position. 

"You have been in the army, " said Léon; "I am ready to give yousatisfaction. "

"You are a fool, " said Castanier dryly. "I have no occasion to fight. Icould kill you by a look if I had any mind to do it. I will tell youwhat it is, youngster; why should I kill you? I can see a red lineround your neck--the guillotine is waiting for you. Yes, you will endin the Place de Grève. You are the headsman's property! there is noescape for you. You belong to a _vendita_ of the Carbonari. You areplotting against the Government. "

"You did not tell me that, " cried the Piedmontese, turning to Léon. 

"So you do not know that the Minister decided this morning to put downyour Society?" the cashier continued. "The Procureur-Général has a listof your names. You have been betrayed. They are busy drawing up theindictment at this moment. "

"Then was it you who betrayed him?" cried Aquilina, and with a hoarsesound in her throat like the growl of a tigress she rose to her feet;she seemed as if she would tear Castanier in pieces. 

"You know me too well to believe it, " Castanier retorted. Aquilina wasbenumbed by his coolness. 

"Then how did you know it?" she murmured. 

"I did not know it until I went into the drawing-room; now I knowit--now I see and know all things, and can do all things. "

The sergeant was overcome with amazement. 

"Very well then, save him, save him, dear!" cried the girl, flingingherself at Castanier's feet. "If nothing is impossible to you, savehim! I will love you, I will adore you, I will be your slave and notyour mistress. I will obey your wildest whims; you shall do as you willwith me. Yes, yes, I will give you more than love; you shall have adaughter's devotion as well as . . . Rodolphe! why will you notunderstand! After all, however violent my passions may be, I shall beyours forever! What should I say to persuade you? I will inventpleasures . . . I . . . Great heavens! one moment! whatever you shall askof me--to fling myself from the window, for instance--you will need tosay but one word, 'Léon!' and I will plunge down into hell. I wouldbear any torture, any pain of body or soul, anything you might inflictupon me!"

Castanier heard her with indifference. For all answer, he indicatedLéon to her with a fiendish laugh. 

"The guillotine is waiting for him, " he repeated. 

"No, no, no! He shall not leave this house. I will save him!" shecried. "Yes; I will kill anyone who lays a finger upon him! Why willyou not save him?" she shrieked aloud; her eyes were blazing, her hairunbound. "Can you save him?"

"I can do everything. "

"Why do you not save him?"

"Why?" shouted Castanier, and his voice made the ceiling ring. --"Eh! itis my revenge! Doing evil is my trade!"

"Die?" said Aquilina; "must he die, my lover? Is it possible?"

She sprang up and snatched a stiletto from a basket that stood on thechest of drawers and went to Castanier, who began to laugh. 

"You know very well that steel cannot hurt me now--"

Aquilina's arm suddenly dropped like a snapped harp string. 

"Out with you, my good friend, " said the cashier, turning to thesergeant, "and go about your business. "

He held out his hand; the other felt Castanier's superior power, andcould not choose but obey. 

"This house is mine; I could send for the commissary of police if Ichose, and give you up as a man who has hidden himself on my premises, but I would rather let you go; I am a fiend, I am not a spy. "

"I shall follow him!" said Aquilina. 

"Then follow him, " returned Castanier. --"Here, Jenny--"

Jenny appeared. 

"Tell the porter to hail a cab for them. --Here, Naqui, " said Castanier, drawing a bundle of banknotes from his pocket; "you shall not go awaylike a pauper from a man who loves you still. "

He held out three hundred thousand francs. Aquilina took the notes, flung them on the floor, spat on them, and trampled upon them in afrenzy of despair. 

"We will leave this house on foot, " she cried, "without a farthing ofyour money. --Jenny, stay where you are. "

"Good evening!" answered the cashier, as he gathered up the notesagain. "I have come back from my journey. --Jenny, " he added, looking atthe bewildered waiting maid, "you seem to me to be a good sort of girl. You have no mistress now. Come here. This evening you shall have amaster. "

Aquilina, who felt safe nowhere, went at once with the sergeant to thehouse of one of her friends. But all Léon's movements were suspiciouslywatched by the police, and after a time he and three of his friendswere arrested. The whole story may be found in the newspapers of thatday. 

 * * * * *

Castanier felt that he had undergone a mental as well as a physicaltransformation. The Castanier of old no longer existed--the boy, theyoung Lothario, the soldier who had proved his courage, who had beentricked into a marriage and disillusioned, the cashier, the passionatelover who had committed a crime for Aquilina's sake. His inmost naturehad suddenly asserted itself. His brain had expanded, his senses haddeveloped. His thoughts comprehended the whole world; he saw all thethings of earth as if he had been raised to some high pinnacle abovethe world. 

Until that evening at the play he had loved Aquilina to distraction. Rather than give her up he would have shut his eyes to herinfidelities; and now all that blind passion had passed away as a cloudvanishes in the sunlight. 

Jenny was delighted to succeed to her mistress's position and fortune, and did the cashier's will in all things; but Castanier, who could readthe inmost thoughts of the soul, discovered the real motive underlyingthis purely physical devotion. He amused himself with her, however, like a mischievous child who greedily sucks the juice of the cherry andflings away the stone. The next morning at breakfast time, when she wasfully convinced that she was a lady and the mistress of the house, Castanier uttered one by one the thoughts that filled her mind as shedrank her coffee. 

"Do you know what you are thinking, child?" he said, smiling. "I willtell you: 'So all that lovely rosewood furniture that I coveted somuch, and the pretty dresses that I used to try on, are mine now! Allon easy terms that madame refused, I do not know why. My word! if Imight drive about in a carriage, have jewels and pretty things, a boxat the theater, and put something by! with me he should lead a life ofpleasure fit to kill him if he were not as strong as a Turk! I neversaw such a man!'--Was not that just what you were thinking?" he wenton, and something in his voice made Jenny turn pale. "Well, yes, child;you could not stand it, and I am sending you away for your own good;you would perish in the attempt. Come, let us part good friends, " andhe coolly dismissed her with a very small sum of money. 

The first use that Castanier had promised himself that he would make ofthe terrible power bought at the price of his eternal happiness, wasthe full and complete indulgence of all his tastes. 

He first put his affairs in order, readily settled his account with M. De Nucingen, who found a worthy German to succeed him, and thendetermined on a carouse worthy of the palmiest days of the RomanEmpire. He plunged into dissipation as recklessly as Belshazzar of oldwent to that last feast in Babylon. Like Belshazzar, he saw clearlythrough his revels a gleaming hand that traced his doom in letters offlame, not on the narrow walls of the banqueting chamber, but over thevast spaces of heaven that the rainbow spans. His feast was not, indeed, an orgy confined within the limits of a banquet, for hesquandered all the powers of soul and body in exhausting all thepleasures of earth. The table was in some sort earth itself, the earththat trembled beneath his feet. He was the last festival of thereckless spendthrift who has thrown all prudence to the winds. Thedevil had given him the key of the storehouse of human pleasures; hehad filled and refilled his hands, and he was fast nearing the bottom. In a moment he had felt all that that enormous power could accomplish;in a moment he had exercised it, proved it, wearied of it. What hadhitherto been the sum of human desires became as nothing. So often ithappens that with possession the vast poetry of desire must end, andthe thing possessed is seldom the thing that we dreamed of. 

Beneath Melmoth's omnipotence lurked this tragical anticlimax of somany a passion, and now the inanity of human nature was revealed to hissuccessor, to whom infinite power brought Nothingness as a dowry. 

To come to a clear understanding of Castanier's strange position, itmust be borne in mind how suddenly these revolutions of thought andfeeling had been wrought; how quickly they had succeeded each other;and of these things it is hard to give any idea to those who have neverbroken the prison bonds of time, and space, and distance. His relationto the world without had been entirely changed with the expansion ofhis faculties. 

Like Melmoth himself, Castanier could travel in a few moments over thefertile plains of India, could soar on the wings of demons aboveAfrican desert spaces, or skim the surface of the seas. The sameinsight that could read the inmost thoughts of others, could apprehendat a glance the nature of any material object, just as he caught as itwere all flavors at once upon his tongue. He took his pleasure like adespot; a blow of the ax felled the tree that he might eat its fruits. The transitions, the alternations that measure joy and pain, anddiversify human happiness, no longer existed for him. He had socompletely glutted his appetites that pleasure must overpass the limitsof pleasure to tickle a palate cloyed with satiety, and suddenly grownfastidious beyond all measure, so that ordinary pleasures becamedistasteful. Conscious that at will he was the master of all the womenthat he could desire, knowing that his power was irresistible, he didnot care to exercise it; they were pliant to his unexpressed wishes, tohis most extravagant caprices, until he felt a horrible thirst forlove, and would have love beyond their power to give. 

The world refused him nothing save faith and prayer, the soothing andconsoling love that is not of this world. He was obeyed--it was ahorrible position. 

The torrents of pain, and pleasure, and thought that shook his soul andhis bodily frame would have overwhelmed the strongest human being; butin him there was a power of vitality proportioned to the power of thesensations that assailed him. He felt within him a vague immensity oflonging that earth could not satisfy. He spent his days on outspreadwings, longing to traverse the luminous fields of space to otherspheres that he knew afar by intuitive perception, a clear and hopelessknowledge. His soul dried up within him, for he hungered and thirstedafter things that can neither be drunk nor eaten, but for which hecould not choose but crave. His lips, like Melmoth's, burned withdesire; he panted for the unknown, for he knew all things. 

The mechanism and the scheme of the world was apparent to him, and itsworking interested him no longer; he did not long disguise the profoundscorn that makes of a man of extraordinary powers a sphinx who knowseverything and says nothing, and sees all things with an unmovedcountenance. He felt not the slightest wish to communicate hisknowledge to other men. He was rich with all the wealth of the world, with one effort he could make the circle of the globe, and riches andpower were meaningless for him. He felt the awful melancholy ofomnipotence, a melancholy which Satan and God relieve by the exerciseof infinite power in mysterious ways known to them alone. Castanier hadnot, like his Master, the inextinguishable energy of hate and malice;he felt that he was a devil, but a devil whose time was not yet come, while Satan is a devil through all eternity, and being damned beyondredemption, delights to stir up the world, like a dungheap, with histriple fork and to thwart therein the designs of God. But Castanier, for his misfortune, had one hope left. 

If in a moment he could move from one pole to the other as a birdsprings restlessly from side to side in its cage, when, like the bird, he had crossed his prison, he saw the vast immensity of space beyondit. That vision of the Infinite left him forever unable to see humanityand its affairs as other men saw them. The insensate fools who long forthe power of the Devil gauge its desirability from a human standpoint;they do not see that with the Devil's power they will likewise assumehis thoughts, and that they will be doomed to remain as men amongcreatures who will no longer understand them. The Nero unknown tohistory who dreams of setting Paris on fire for his privateentertainment, like an exhibition of a burning house on the boards of atheater, does not suspect that if he had that power, Paris would becomefor him as little interesting as an ant heap by the roadside to ahurrying passer-by. The circle of the sciences was for Castaniersomething like a logogriph for a man who does not know the key to it. Kings and Governments were despicable in his eyes. His great debauchhad been in some sort a deplorable farewell to his life as a man. Theearth had grown too narrow for him, for the infernal gifts laid barefor him the secrets of creation--he saw the cause and foresaw its end. He was shut out from all that men call "heaven" in all languages underthe sun; he could no longer think of heaven. 

Then he came to understand the look on his predecessor's face and thedrying up of the life within; then he knew all that was meant by thebaffled hope that gleamed in Melmoth's eyes; he, too, knew the thirstthat burned those red lips, and the agony of a continual strugglebetween two natures grown to giant size. Even yet he might be an angel, and he knew himself to be a fiend. His was the fate of a sweet andgentle creature that a wizard's malice has imprisoned in a misshapenform, entrapping it by a pact, so that another's will must set it freefrom its detested envelope. 

As a deception only increases the ardor with which a man of reallygreat nature explores the infinite of sentiment in a woman's heart, soCastanier awoke to find that one idea lay like a weight upon his soul, an idea which was perhaps the key to loftier spheres. The very factthat he had bartered away his eternal happiness led him to dwell inthought upon the future of those who pray and believe. On the morrow ofhis debauch, when he entered into the sober possession of his power, this idea made him feel himself a prisoner; he knew the burden of thewoe that poets, and prophets, and great oracles of faith have set forthfor us in such mighty words; he felt the point of the Flaming Swordplunged into his side, and hurried in search of Melmoth. What hadbecome of his predecessor?

The Englishman was living in a mansion in the Rue Férou, nearSaint-Sulpice--a gloomy, dark, damp, and cold abode. The Rue Férouitself is one of the most dismal streets in Paris; it has a northaspect like all the streets that lie at right angles to the left bankof the Seine, and the houses are in keeping with the site. As Castanierstood on the threshold he found that the door itself, like the vaultedroof, was hung with black; rows of lighted tapers shone brilliantly asthough some king were lying in state; and a priest stood on either sideof a catafalque that had been raised there. 

"There is no need to ask why you have come, sir, " the old hall portersaid to Castanier; "you are so like our poor dear master that is gone. But if you are his brother, you have come too late to bid him good-by. The good gentleman died the night before last. "

"How did he die?" Castanier asked of one of the priests. 

"Set your mind at rest, " said an old priest; he partly raised as hespoke the black pall that covered the catafalque. 

Castanier, looking at him, saw one of those faces that faith has madesublime; the soul seemed to shine forth from every line of it, bringinglight and warmth for other men, kindled by the unfailing charitywithin. This was Sir John Melmoth's confessor. 

"Your brother made an end that men may envy, and that must rejoice theangels. Do you know what joy there is in heaven over a sinner thatrepents? His tears of penitence, excited by grace, flowed withoutceasing; death alone checked them. The Holy Spirit dwelt in him. Hisburning words, full of lively faith, were worthy of the Prophet-King. If, in the course of my life, I have never heard a more dreadfulconfession than from the lips of this Irish gentleman, I have likewisenever heard such fervent and passionate prayers. However great themeasures of his sins may have been, his repentance has filled the abyssto overflowing. The hand of God was visibly stretched out above him, for he was completely changed, there was such heavenly beauty in hisface. The hard eyes were softened by tears; the resonant voice thatstruck terror into those who heard it took the tender and compassionatetones of those who themselves have passed through deep humiliation. Heso edified those who heard his words that some who had felt drawn tosee the spectacle of a Christian's death fell on their knees as hespoke of heavenly things, and of the infinite glory of God, and gavethanks and praise to Him. If he is leaving no worldly wealth to hisfamily, no family can possess a greater blessing than this that hesurely gained for them, a soul among the blessed, who will watch overyou all and direct you in the path to heaven. "

These words made such a vivid impression upon Castanier that heinstantly hurried from the house to the Church of Saint-Sulpice, obeying what might be called a decree of fate. Melmoth's repentance hadstupefied him. 

At that time, on certain mornings in the week, a preacher, famed forhis eloquence, was wont to hold conferences, in the course of which hedemonstrated the truths of the Catholic faith for the youth of ageneration proclaimed to be indifferent in matters of belief by anothervoice no less eloquent than his own. The conference had been put off toa later hour on account of Melmoth's funeral, so Castanier arrived justas the great preacher was epitomizing the proofs of a future existenceof happiness with all the charm of eloquence and force of expressionwhich have made him famous. The seeds of divine doctrine fell into asoil prepared for them in the old dragoon, into whom the Devil hadglided. Indeed, if there is a phenomenon well attested by experience, is it not the spiritual phenomenon commonly called "the faith of thepeasant"? The strength of belief varies inversely with the amount ofuse that a man has made of his reasoning faculties. Simple people andsoldiers belong to the unreasoning class. Those who have marchedthrough life beneath the banner of instinct are far more ready toreceive the light than minds and hearts overwearied with the world'ssophistries. 

Castanier had the southern temperament; he had joined the army as a ladof sixteen, and had followed the French flag till he was nearly fortyyears old. As a common trooper, he had fought day and night, and dayafter day, and, as in duty bound, had thought of his horse first, andof himself afterwards. While he served his military apprenticeship, therefore, he had but little leisure in which to reflect on the destinyof man, and when he became an officer he had his men to think of. Hehad been swept from battlefield to battlefield, but he had neverthought of what comes after death. A soldier's life does not demandmuch thinking. Those who cannot understand the lofty political endsinvolved and the interests of nation and nation; who cannot grasppolitical schemes as well as plans of campaign and combine the scienceof the tactician with that of the administrator, are bound to live in astate of ignorance; the most boorish peasant in the most backwarddistrict in France is scarcely in a worse case. Such men as these bearthe brunt of war, yield passive obedience to the brain that directsthem, and strike down the men opposed to them as the woodcutter fellstimber in the forest. Violent physical exertion is succeeded by timesof inertia, when they repair the waste. They fight and drink, fight andeat, fight and sleep, that they may the better deal hard blows; thepowers of the mind are not greatly exercised in this turbulent round ofexistence, and the character is as simple as heretofore. 

When the men who have shown such energy on the battlefield return toordinary civilization, most of those who have not risen to high rankseem to have acquired no ideas, and to have no aptitude, no capacity, for grasping new ideas. To the utter amazement of a younger generation, those who made our armies so glorious and so terrible are as simple aschildren, and as slow-witted as a clerk at his worst, and the captainof a thundering squadron is scarcely fit to keep a merchant's day-book. Old soldiers of this stamp, therefore, being innocent of any attempt touse their reasoning faculties, act upon their strongest impulses. Castanier's crime was one of those matters that raise so manyquestions, that, in order to debate about it, a moralist might call forits "discussion by clauses, " to make use of a parliamentary expression. 

Passion had counseled the crime; the cruelly irresistible power offeminine witchery had driven him to commit it; no man can say ofhimself, "I will never do that, " when a siren joins in the combat andthrows her spells over him. 

So the word of life fell upon a conscience newly awakened to the truthsof religion which the French Revolution and a soldier's career hadforced Castanier to neglect. The solemn words, "You will be happy ormiserable for all eternity!" made but the more terrible impression uponhim, because he had exhausted earth and shaken it like a barren tree;because his desires could effect all things, so that it was enough thatany spot in earth or heaven should be forbidden him, and he forthwiththought of nothing else. If it were allowable to compare such greatthings with social follies, Castanier's position was not unlike that ofa banker who, finding that his all-powerful millions cannot obtain forhim an entrance into the society of the noblesse, must set his heartupon entering that circle, and all the social privileges that he hasalready acquired are as nothing in his eyes from the moment when hediscovers that a single one is lacking. 

Here was a man more powerful than all the kings on earth put together;a man who, like Satan, could wrestle with God Himself; leaning againstone of the pillars in the Church of Saint-Sulpice, weighed down by thefeelings and thoughts that oppressed him, and absorbed in the thoughtof a Future, the same thought that had engulfed Melmoth. 

"He was very happy, was Melmoth!" cried Castanier. "He died in thecertain knowledge that he would go to heaven. "

In a moment the greatest possible change had been wrought in thecashier's ideas. For several days he had been a devil, now he wasnothing but a man; an image of the fallen Adam, of the sacred traditionembodied in all cosmogonies. But while he had thus shrunk to manhood, he retained a germ of greatness, he had been steeped in the Infinite. The power of hell had revealed the divine power. He thirsted for heavenas he had never thirsted after the pleasures of earth, that are so soonexhausted. The enjoyments which the fiend promises are but theenjoyments of earth on a larger scale, but to the joys of heaven thereis no limit. He believed in God, and the spell that gave him thetreasures of the world was as nothing to him now; the treasuresthemselves seemed to him as contemptible as pebbles to an admirer ofdiamonds; they were but gewgaws compared with the eternal glories ofthe other life. A curse lay, he thought, on all things that came to himfrom this source. He sounded dark depths of painful thought as helistened to the service performed for Melmoth. The _Dies iræ_ filledhim with awe; he felt all the grandeur of that cry of a repentant soultrembling before the Throne of God. The Holy Spirit, like a devouringflame, passed through him as fire consumes straw. 

The tears were falling from his eyes when--"Are you a relation of thedead?" the beadle asked him. 

"I am his heir, " Castanier answered. 

"Give something for the expenses of the services!" cried the man. 

"No, " said the cashier. (The Devil's money should not go to theChurch. )

"For the poor!"

"No. "

"For repairing the Church!"

"No. "

"The Lady Chapel!"

"No. "

"For the schools!"

"No. "

Castanier went, not caring to expose himself to the sour looks that theirritated functionaries gave him. 

Outside, in the street, he looked up at the Church of Saint-Sulpice. "What made people build the giant cathedrals I have seen in everycountry?" he asked himself. "The feeling shared so widely throughoutall time must surely be based upon something. "

"Something! Do you call God _something_?" cried his conscience. "God!God! God!. . . "

The word was echoed and reëchoed by an inner voice, till it overwhelmedhim; but his feeling of terror subsided as he heard sweet distantsounds of music that he had caught faintly before. They were singing inthe church, he thought, and his eyes scanned the great doorway. But ashe listened more closely, the sounds poured upon him from all sides; helooked round the square, but there was no sign of any musicians. Themelody brought visions of a distant heaven and far-off gleams of hope;but it also quickened the remorse that had set the lost soul in aferment. He went on his way through Paris, walking as men walk who arecrushed beneath the burden of their sorrow, seeing everything withunseeing eyes, loitering like an idler, stopping without cause, muttering to himself, careless of the traffic, making no effort toavoid a blow from a plank of timber. 

Imperceptibly repentance brought him under the influence of the divinegrace that soothes while it bruises the heart so terribly. His facecame to wear a look of Melmoth, something great, with a trace ofmadness in the greatness. A look of dull and hopeless distress, mingledwith the excited eagerness of hope, and, beneath it all, a gnawingsense of loathing for all that the world can give. The humblest ofprayers lurked in the eyes that saw with such dreadful clearness. Hispower was the measure of his anguish. His body was bowed down by thefearful storm that shook his soul, as the tall pines bend before theblast. Like his predecessor, he could not refuse to bear the burden oflife; he was afraid to die while he bore the yoke of hell. The tormentgrew intolerable. 

At last, one morning, he bethought himself how that Melmoth (now amongthe blessed) had made the proposal of an exchange, and how that he hadaccepted it; others, doubtless, would follow his example; for in an ageproclaimed, by the inheritors of the eloquence of the Fathers of theChurch, to be fatally indifferent to religion, it should be easy tofind a man who would accept the conditions of the contract in order toprove its advantages. 

"There is one place where you can learn what kings will fetch in themarket; where nations are weighed in the balance and systems appraised;where the value of a government is stated in terms of the five-francpiece; where ideas and beliefs have their price, and everything isdiscounted; where God Himself, in a manner, borrows on the security ofHis revenue of souls, for the Pope has a running account there. Is itnot there that I should go to traffic in souls?"

Castanier went quite joyously on 'Change, thinking that it would be aseasy to buy a soul as to invest money in the Funds. Any ordinary personwould have feared ridicule, but Castanier knew by experience that adesperate man takes everything seriously. A prisoner lying undersentence of death would listen to the madman who should tell him thatby pronouncing some gibberish he could escape through the keyhole; forsuffering is credulous, and clings to an idea until it fails, as theswimmer borne along by the current clings to the branch that snaps inhis hand. 

Toward four o'clock that afternoon Castanier appeared among the littleknots of men who were transacting private business after 'Change. Hewas personally known to some of the brokers; and while affecting to bein search of an acquaintance, he managed to pick up the current gossipand rumors of failure. 

"Catch me negotiating bills for Claparon & Co. , my boy. The bankcollector went round to return their acceptances to them this morning, "said a fat banker in his outspoken way. "If you have any of theirpaper, look out. "

Claparon was in the building, in deep consultation with a man wellknown for the ruinous rate at which he lent money. Castanier wentforthwith in search of the said Claparon, a merchant who had areputation for taking heavy risks that meant wealth or utter ruin. Themoney lender walked away as Castanier came up. A gesture betrayed thespeculator's despair. 

"Well, Claparon, the bank wants a hundred thousand francs of you, andit is four o'clock; the thing is known, and it is too late to arrangeyour little failure comfortably, " said Castanier. 

"Sir!"

"Speak lower, " the cashier went on. "How if I were to propose a pieceof business that would bring you in as much money as you require?"

"It would not discharge my liabilities; every business that I everheard of wants a little time to simmer in. "

"I know of something that will set you straight in a moment, " answeredCastanier; "but first you would have to--"

"Do what?"

"Sell your share of Paradise. It is a matter of business like anythingelse, isn't it? We all hold shares in the great Speculation ofEternity. "

"I tell you this, " said Claparon angrily, "that I am just the man tolend you a slap in the face. When a man is in trouble, it is no time toplay silly jokes on him. "

"I am talking seriously, " said Castanier, and he drew a bundle of notesfrom his pocket. 

"In the first place, " said Claparon, "I am not going to sell my soul tothe Devil for a trifle. I want five hundred thousand francs before Istrike--"

"Who talks of stinting you?" asked Castanier, cutting him short. "Youshould have more gold than you could stow in the cellars of the Bank ofFrance. "

He held out a handful of notes. That decided Claparon. 

"Done, " he cried; "but how is the bargain to be made?"

"Let us go over yonder, no one is standing there, " said Castanier, pointing to a corner of the court. 

Claparon and his tempter exchanged a few words, with their faces turnedto the wall. None of the onlookers guessed the nature of this by-play, though their curiosity was keenly excited by the strange gestures ofthe two contracting parties. When Castanier returned, there was asudden outburst of amazed exclamation. As in the Assembly where theleast event immediately attracts attention, all faces were turned tothe two men who had caused the sensation, and a shiver passed throughall beholders at the change that had taken place in them. 

The men who form the moving crowd that fills the Stock Exchange aresoon known to each other by sight. They watch each other like playersround a card table. Some shrewd observers can tell how a man will playand the condition of his exchequer from a survey of his face; and theStock Exchange is simply a vast card table. Everyone, therefore, hadnoticed Claparon and Castanier. The latter (like the Irishman beforehim[1]) had been muscular and powerful, his eyes were full of light, his color high. The dignity and power in his face had struck awe intothem all; they wondered how old Castanier had come by it; and now theybeheld Castanier divested of his power, shrunken, wrinkled, aged, andfeeble. He had drawn Claparon out of the crowd with the energy of asick man in a fever fit; he had looked like an opium eater during thebrief period of excitement that the drug can give; now, on his return, he seemed to be in the condition of utter exhaustion in which thepatient dies after the fever departs, or to be suffering from thehorrible prostration that follows on excessive indulgence in thedelights of narcotics. The infernal power that had upheld him throughhis debauches had left him, and the body was left unaided and alone toendure the agony of remorse and the heavy burden of sincere repentance. Claparon's troubles everyone could guess; but Claparon reappeared, onthe other hand, with sparkling eyes, holding his head high with thepride of Lucifer. The crisis had passed from the one man to the other. 

 [1] Referring to John Melmoth--see note at head of this story. --EDITOR. 

"Now you can drop off with an easy mind, old man, " said Claparon toCastanier. 

"For pity's sake, send for a cab and for a priest; send for the curateof Saint-Sulpice!" answered the old dragoon, sinking down upon thecurbstone. 

The words "a priest" reached the ears of several people, and produceduproarious jeering among the stockbrokers, for faith with thesegentlemen means a belief that a scrap of paper called a mortgagerepresents an estate, and the List of Fundholders is their Bible. 

"Shall I have time to repent?" said Castanier to himself, in a piteousvoice, that impressed Claparon. 

A cab carried away the dying man; the speculator went to the bank atonce to meet his bills; and the momentary sensation produced upon thethrong of business men by the sudden change on the two faces, vanishedlike the furrow cut by a ship's keel in the sea. News of the greatestimportance kept the attention of the world of commerce on the alert;and when commercial interests are at stake, Moses might appear with histwo luminous horns, and his coming would scarcely receive the honors ofa pun; the gentlemen whose business it is to write the Market Reportswould ignore his existence. 

When Claparon had made his payments, fear seized upon him. There was nomistake about his power. He went on 'Change again, and offered hisbargain to other men in embarrassed circumstances. The Devil's bond, "together with the rights, easements, and privileges appertainingthereunto, "--to use the expression of the notary who succeededClaparon, changed hands for the sum of seven hundred thousand francs. The notary in his turn parted with the agreement with the Devil forfive hundred thousand francs to a building contractor in difficulties, who likewise was rid of it to an iron merchant in consideration of ahundred thousand crowns. In fact, by five o'clock people had ceased tobelieve in the strange contract, and purchasers were lacking for wantof confidence. 

At half-past five the holder of the bond was a house painter, who waslounging by the door of the building in the Rue Feydeau, where at thattime stockbrokers temporarily congregated. The house painter, simplefellow, could not think what was the matter with him. He "felt allanyhow"; so he told his wife when he went home. 

The Rue Feydeau, as idlers about town are aware, is a place ofpilgrimage for youths who for lack of a mistress bestow their ardentaffection upon the whole sex. On the first floor of the most rigidlyrespectable domicile therein dwelt one of those exquisite creatureswhom it has pleased heaven to endow with the rarest and most surpassingbeauty. As it is impossible that they should all be duchesses or queens(since there are many more pretty women in the world than titles andthrones for them to adorn), they are content to make a stockbroker or abanker happy at a fixed price. To this good-natured beauty, Euphrasiaby name, an unbounded ambition had led a notary's clerk to aspire. Inshort, the second clerk in the office of Maître Crottat, notary, hadfallen in love with her, as youth at two and twenty can fall in love. The scrivener would have murdered the Pope and run amuck through thewhole sacred college to procure the miserable sum of a hundred louis topay for a shawl which had turned Euphrasia's head, at which price herwaiting woman had promised that Euphrasia should be his. The infatuatedyouth walked to and fro under Madame Euphrasia's windows, like thepolar bears in their cage at the Jardin des Plantes, with his righthand thrust beneath his waistcoat in the region of the heart, which hewas fit to tear from his bosom, but as yet he had only wrenched at theelastic of his braces. 

"What can one do to raise ten thousand francs?" he asked himself. "Shall I make off with the money that I must pay on the registration ofthat conveyance? Good heavens! my loan would not ruin the purchaser, aman with seven millions! And then next day I would fling myself at hisfeet and say, 'I have taken ten thousand francs belonging to you, sir;I am twenty-two years of age, and I am in love with Euphrasia--that ismy story. My father is rich, he will pay you back; do not ruin me! Havenot you yourself been twenty-two years old and madly in love?' Butthese beggarly landowners have no souls! He would be quite likely togive me up to the public prosecutor, instead of taking pity upon me. Good God! if it were only possible to sell your soul to the Devil! Butthere is neither a God nor a Devil; it is all nonsense out of nurserytales and old wives' talk. What shall I do?"

"If you have a mind to sell your soul to the Devil, sir, " said thehouse painter, who had overheard something that the clerk let fall, "you can have the ten thousand francs. "

"And Euphrasia!" cried the clerk, as he struck a bargain with the devilthat inhabited the house painter. 

The pact concluded, the frantic clerk went to find the shawl, andmounted Madame Euphrasia's staircase; and as (literally) the devil wasin him, he did not come down for twelve days, drowning the thought ofhell and of his privileges in twelve days of love and riot andforgetfulness, for which he had bartered away all his hopes of aparadise to come. 

And in this way the secret of the vast power discovered and acquired bythe Irishman, the offspring of Maturin's brain, was lost to mankind;and the various Orientalists, Mystics, and Archaeologists who take aninterest in these matters were unable to hand down to posterity theproper method of invoking the Devil, for the following sufficientreasons:--

On the thirteenth day after these frenzied nuptials the wretched clerklay on a pallet bed in a garret in his master's house in the RueSaint-Honoré. Shame, the stupid goddess who dares not behold herself, had taken possession of the young man. He had fallen ill; he wouldnurse himself; misjudged the quantity of a remedy devised by the skillof a practitioner well known on the walls of Paris, and succumbed tothe effects of an overdose of mercury. His corpse was as black as amole's back. A devil had left unmistakable traces of its passage there;could it have been Ashtaroth?

 * * * * *

"The estimable youth to whom you refer has been carried away to theplanet Mercury, " said the head clerk to a German demonologist who cameto investigate the matter at first hand. 

"I am quite prepared to believe it, " answered the Teuton. 

"Oh!"

"Yes, sir, " returned the other. "The opinion you advance coincideswith the very words of Jacob Boehme. In the forty-eighth propositionof _The Threefold Life of Man_ he says that 'if God hath brought allthings to pass with a LET THERE BE, the FIAT is the secret matrix whichcomprehends and apprehends the nature which is formed by the spiritborn of Mercury and of God. '"

"What do you say, sir?"

The German delivered his quotation afresh. 

"We do not know it, " said the clerks. 

"_Fiat?. . . _" said a clerk. "_Fiat lux!_"

"You can verify the citation for yourselves, " said the German. "Youwill find the passage in the _Treatise of the Threefold Life of Man_, page 75; the edition was published by M. Migneret in 1809. It wastranslated into French by a philosopher who had a great admiration forthe famous shoemaker. "

"Oh! he was a shoemaker, was he?" said the head clerk. 

"In Prussia, " said the German. 

"Did he work for the King of Prussia?" inquired a Boeotian of a secondclerk. 

"He must have vamped up his prose, " said a third. 

"That man is colossal!" cried the fourth, pointing to the Teuton. 

That gentleman, though a demonologist of the first rank, did not knowthe amount of devilry to be found in a notary's clerk. He went awaywithout the least idea that they were making game of him, and fullyunder the impression that the young fellows regarded Boehme as acolossal genius. 

"Education is making strides in France, " said he to himself. 

_The Conscript_

 [The inner self] . . . By a phenomenon of vision or of locomotion has been known at times to abolish Space in its two modes of Time and Distance--the one intellectual, the other physical. 

 --HISTORY OF LOUIS LAMBERT. 

On a November evening in the year 1793 the principal citizens ofCarentan were assembled in Mme. De Dey's drawing-room. Mme. De Deyheld this _reception_ every night of the week, but an unwonted interestattached to this evening's gathering, owing to certain circumstanceswhich would have passed altogether unnoticed in a great city, though ina small country town they excited the greatest curiosity. For two daysbefore Mme. De Dey had not been at home to her visitors, and on theprevious evening her door had been shut, on the ground of indisposition. Two such events at any ordinary time would have produced in Carentanthe same sensation that Paris knows on nights when there is noperformance at the theaters--existence is in some sort incomplete; butin those times when the least indiscretion on the part of an aristocratmight be a matter of life and death, this conduct of Mme. De Dey's waslikely to bring about the most disastrous consequences for her. Herposition in Carentan ought to be made clear, if the reader is toappreciate the expression of keen curiosity and cunning fanaticism onthe countenances of these Norman citizens, and, what is of mostimportance, the part that the lady played among them. Many a one duringthe days of the Revolution has doubtless passed through a crisis asdifficult as hers at that moment, and the sympathies of more than onereader will fill in all the coloring of the picture. 

Mme. De Dey was the widow of a Lieutenant-General, a Knight of theOrders of Saint Michael and of the Holy Ghost. She had left the Courtwhen the Emigration began, and taken refuge in the neighborhood ofCarentan, where she had large estates, hoping that the influence of theReign of Terror would be but little felt there. Her calculations, basedon a thorough knowledge of the district, proved correct. The Revolutionmade little disturbance in Lower Normandy. Formerly, when Mme. De Deyhad spent any time in the country, her circle of acquaintance had beenconfined to the noble families of the district; but now, from politicmotives, she opened her house to the principal citizens and to theRevolutionary authorities of the town, endeavoring to touch and gratifytheir social pride without arousing either hatred or jealousy. Graciousand kindly, possessed of the indescribable charm that wins good willwithout loss of dignity or effort to pay court to any, she hadsucceeded in gaining universal esteem; the discreet warnings ofexquisite tact enabled her to steer a difficult course among theexacting claims of this mixed society, without wounding the overweeningself-love of parvenus on the one hand, or the susceptibilities of herold friends on the other. 

She was about thirty-eight years of age, and still preserved, not thefresh, high-colored beauty of the Basse-Normandes, but a fragileloveliness of what may be called an aristocratic type. Her figure waslissome and slender, her features delicate and clearly cut; the paleface seemed to light up and live when she spoke; but there was a quietand devout look in the great dark eyes, for all their graciousness ofexpression--a look that seemed to say that the springs of her life laywithout her own existence. 

In her early girlhood she had been married to an elderly and jealoussoldier. Her false position in the midst of a gay Court had doubtlessdone something to bring a veil of sadness over a face that must oncehave been bright with the charms of quick-pulsed life and love. She hadbeen compelled to set constant restraint upon her frank impulses andemotions at an age when a woman feels rather than thinks, and thedepths of passion in her heart had never been stirred. In this lay thesecret of her greatest charm, a youthfulness of the inmost soul, betrayed at times by her face, and a certain tinge of innocentwistfulness in her ideas. She was reserved in her demeanor, but in herbearing and in the tones of her voice there was still something thattold of girlish longings directed toward a vague future. Before verylong the least susceptible fell in love with her, and yet stoodsomewhat in awe of her dignity and high-bred manner. Her great soul, strengthened by the cruel ordeals through which she had passed, seemedto set her too far above the ordinary level, and these men weighedthemselves, and instinctively felt that they were found wanting. Such anature demanded an exalted passion. 

Moreover, Mme. De Dey's affections were concentrated in one sentiment--amother's love for her son. All the happiness and joy that she had notknown as a wife, she had found later in her boundless love for him. Thecoquetry of a mistress, the jealousy of a wife mingled with the pureand deep affection of a mother. She was miserable when they were apart, and nervous about him while he was away; she could never see enough ofhim, and lived through and for him alone. Some idea of the strength ofthis tie may be conveyed to the masculine understanding by adding thatthis was not only Mme. De Dey's only son, but all she had of kith orkin in the world, the one human being on earth bound to her by all thefears and hopes and joys of her life. 

The late Comte de Dey was the last of his race, and she, his wife, wasthe sole heiress and descendant of her house. So worldly ambitions andfamily considerations, as well as the noblest cravings of the soul, combined to heighten in the Countess a sentiment that is strong inevery woman's heart. The child was all the dearer, because only withinfinite care had she succeeded in rearing him to man's estate; medicalscience had predicted his death a score of times, but she had held fastto her presentiments and her hopes, and had known the inexpressible joyof watching him pass safely through the perils of infancy, of seeinghis constitution strengthen in spite of the decrees of the Faculty. 

Thanks to her constant care, the boy had grown up and developed sofavorably, that at twenty years of age he was regarded as one of themost accomplished gentlemen at the Court of Versailles. One finalhappiness that does not always crown a mother's efforts was hers--herson worshiped her; and between these two there was the deep sympathy ofkindred souls. If they had not been bound to each other already by anatural and sacred tie, they would instinctively have felt for eachother a friendship that is rarely met with between two men. 

At the age of eighteen, the young Count had received an appointment assub-lieutenant in a regiment of dragoons, and had made it a point ofhonor to follow the emigrant Princes into exile. 

Then Mme. De Dey faced the dangers of her cruel position. She was rich, noble, and the mother of an Emigrant. With the one desire to look afterher son's great fortune, she had denied herself the happiness of beingwith him; and when she read the rigorous laws in virtue of which theRepublic was daily confiscating the property of Emigrants at Carentan, she congratulated herself on the courageous course that she had taken. Was she not keeping watch over the wealth of her son at the risk of herlife? Later, when news came of the horrible executions ordered by theConvention, she slept, happy in the knowledge that her own treasure wasin safety, out of reach of peril, far from the scaffolds of theRevolution. She loved to think that she had followed the best course, that she had saved her darling and her darling's fortunes; and to thissecret thought she made such concessions as the misfortunes of thetimes demanded, without compromising her dignity or her aristocratictenets, and enveloped her sorrows in reserve and mystery. She hadforeseen the difficulties that would beset her at Carentan. Did she nottempt the scaffold by the very fact of going thither to take aprominent place? Yet, sustained by a mother's courage, she succeeded inwinning the affection of the poor, ministering without distinction toeveryone in trouble; and made herself necessary to the well-to-do, byproviding amusements for them. 

The procureur of the commune might be seen at her house, the mayor, thepresident of the "district, " and the public prosecutor, and even thejudges of the Revolutionary tribunals went there. The four first-namedgentlemen were none of them married, and each paid court to her, in thehope that Mme. De Dey would take him for her husband, either from fearof making an enemy or from a desire to find a protector. 

The public prosecutor, once an attorney at Caen, and the Countess's manof business, did what he could to inspire love by a system of devotionand generosity, a dangerous game of cunning! He was the most formidableof all her suitors. He alone knew the amount of the large fortune ofhis sometime client, and his fervor was inevitably increased by thecupidity of greed, and by the consciousness that he wielded an enormouspower, the power of life and death in the district. He was still ayoung man, and, owing to the generosity of his behavior, Mme. De Deywas unable as yet to estimate him truly. But, in despite of the dangerof matching herself against Norman cunning, she used all the craft andinventiveness that Nature has bestowed on women to play off the rivalsuitors one against another. She hoped, by gaining time, to emerge safeand sound from her difficulties at last; for at that time Royalists inthe provinces flattered themselves with a hope, daily renewed, that themorrow would see the end of the Revolution--a conviction that provedfatal to many of them. 

In spite of difficulties, the Countess had maintained her independencewith considerable skill until the day when, by an inexplicable want ofprudence, she took occasion to close her salon. So deep and sincere wasthe interest that she inspired, that those who usually filled herdrawing-room felt a lively anxiety when the news was spread; then, withthe frank curiosity characteristic of provincial manners, they went toinquire into the misfortune, grief, or illness that had befallen Mme. De Dey. 

To all these questions, Brigitte, the housekeeper, answered with thesame formula: her mistress was keeping her room, and would see no one, not even her own servants. The almost claustral lives of dwellers insmall towns fosters a habit of analysis and conjectural explanation ofthe business of everybody else; so strong is it, that when everyone hadexclaimed over poor Mme. De Dey (without knowing whether the lady wasovercome by joy or sorrow), each one began to inquire into the causesof her sudden seclusion. 

"If she were ill, she would have sent for the doctor, " said gossipnumber one; "now the doctor has been playing chess in my house all day. He said to me, laughing, that in these days there is only one disease, and that, unluckily, it is incurable. "

The joke was hazarded discreetly. Women and men, elderly folk and younggirls, forthwith betook themselves to the vast fields of conjecture. Everyone imagined that there was some secret in it, and every head wasbusy with the secret. Next day the suspicions became malignant. Everyone lives in public in a small town, and the women-kind were thefirst to find out that Brigitte had laid in an extra stock ofprovisions. The thing could not be disputed. Brigitte had been seen inthe market-place betimes that morning, and, wonderful to relate, shehad bought the one hare to be had. The whole town knew that Mme. De Deydid not care for game. The hare became a starting point for endlessconjectures. 

Elderly gentlemen, taking their constitutional, noticed a sort ofsuppressed bustle in the Countess's house; the symptoms were the moreapparent because the servants were at evident pains to conceal them. The man-servant was beating a carpet in the garden. Only yesterday noone would have remarked the fact, but to-day everybody began to buildromances upon that harmless piece of household stuff. Everyone had aversion. 

On the following day, that on which Mme. De Dey gave out that she wasnot well, the magnates of Carentan went to spend the evening at themayor's brother's house. He was a retired merchant, a married man, astrictly honorable soul; everyone respected him, and the Countess heldhim in high regard. There all the rich widows' suitors were fain toinvent more or less probable fictions, each one thinking the while howto turn to his own advantage the secret that compelled her tocompromise herself in such a manner. 

The public prosecutor spun out a whole drama to bring Mme. De Dey's sonto her house of a night. The mayor had a belief in a priest who hadrefused the oath, a refugee from La Vendée; but this left him not alittle embarrassed how to account for the purchase of a hare on aFriday. The president of the district had strong leanings toward aChouan chief, or a Vendean leader hotly pursued. Others voted for anoble escaped from the prisons of Paris. In short, one and allsuspected that the Countess had been guilty of some piece of generositythat the law of those days defined as a crime, an offense that was liketo bring her to the scaffold. The public prosecutor, moreover, said, ina low voice, that they must hush the matter up, and try to save theunfortunate lady from the abyss toward which she was hastening. 

"If you spread reports about, " he added, "I shall be obliged to takecognizance of the matter, and to search the house, and then!. . . "

He said no more, but everyone understood what was left unsaid. 

The Countess's real friends were so much alarmed for her, that on themorning of the third day the _Procureur Syndic_ of the commune made hiswife write a few lines to persuade Mme. De Dey to hold her reception asusual that evening. The old merchant took a bolder step. He called thatmorning upon the lady. Strong in the thought of the service he meant todo her, he insisted that he must see Mme. De Dey, and was amazed beyondexpression to find her out in the garden, busy gathering the lastautumn flowers in her borders to fill the vases. 

"She has given refuge to her lover, no doubt, " thought the old man, struck with pity for the charming woman before him. 

The Countess's face wore a strange look, that confirmed his suspicions. Deeply moved by the devotion so natural to women, but that alwaystouches us, because all men are flattered by the sacrifices that anywoman makes for any one of them, the merchant told the Countess of thegossip that was circulating in the town, and showed her the danger thatshe was running. He wound up at last with saying that "if there aresome of our public functionaries who are sufficiently ready to pardon apiece of heroism on your part so long as it is a priest that you wishto save, no one will show you any mercy if it is discovered that youare sacrificing yourself to the dictates of your heart. "

At these words Mme. De Dey gazed at her visitor with a wild excitementin her manner that made him tremble, old though he was. 

"Come in, " she said, taking him by the hand to bring him to her room, and as soon as she had assured herself that they were alone, she drew asoiled, torn letter from her bodice. --"Read it!" she cried, with aviolent effort to pronounce the words. 

She dropped as if exhausted into her armchair. While the old merchantlooked for his spectacles and wiped them, she raised her eyes, and forthe first time looked at him with curiosity; then, in an uncertainvoice, "I trust in you, " she said softly. 

"Why did I come but to share in your crime?" the old merchant saidsimply. 

She trembled. For the first time since she had come to the little townher soul found sympathy in another soul. A sudden light dawned meantimeon the old merchant; he understood the Countess's joy and herprostration. 

Her son had taken part in the Granville expedition; he wrote to hismother from his prison, and the letter brought her a sad, sweet hope. Feeling no doubts as to his means of escape, he wrote that within threedays he was sure to reach her, disguised. The same letter that broughtthese weighty tidings was full of heartrending farewells in case thewriter should not be in Carentan by the evening of the third day, andhe implored his mother to send a considerable sum of money by thebearer, who had gone through dangers innumerable to deliver it. Thepaper shook in the old man's hands. 

"And to-day is the third day!" cried Mme. De Dey. She sprang to herfeet, took back the letter, and walked up and down. 

"You have set to work imprudently, " the merchant remarked, addressingher. "Why did you buy provisions?"

"Why, he may come in dying of hunger, worn out with fatigue, and--" Shebroke off. 

"I am sure of my brother, " the old merchant went on; "I will engage himin your interests. "

The merchant in this crisis recovered his old business shrewdness, andthe advice that he gave Mme. De Dey was full of prudence and wisdom. After the two had agreed together as to what they were to do and say, the old merchant went on various ingenious pretexts to pay visits tothe principal houses of Carentan, announcing wherever he went that hehad just been to see Mme. De Dey, and that, in spite of herindisposition, she would receive that evening. Matching his shrewdnessagainst Norman wits in the cross-examination he underwent in everyfamily as to the Countess's complaint, he succeeded in putting almosteveryone who took an interest in the mysterious affair upon the wrongscent. 

His very first call worked wonders. He told, in the hearing of a goutyold lady, how that Mme. De Dey had all but died of an attack of gout inthe stomach; how that the illustrious Tronchin had recommended her insuch a case to put the skin from a live hare on her chest, to stop inbed, and keep perfectly still. The Countess, he said, had lain indanger of her life for the past two days; but after carefully followingout Tronchin's singular prescription, she was now sufficientlyrecovered to receive visitors that evening. 

This tale had an immense success in Carentan. The local doctor, aRoyalist _in petto_, added to its effect by gravely discussing thespecific. Suspicion, nevertheless, had taken too deep root in a fewperverse or philosophical minds to be entirely dissipated; so it fellout that those who had the right of entry into Mme. De Dey'sdrawing-room hurried thither at an early hour, some to watch her face, some out of friendship, but the more part attracted by the fame of themarvelous cure. 

They found the Countess seated in a corner of the great chimney-piecein her room, which was almost as modestly furnished as similarapartments in Carentan; for she had given up the enjoyment of luxuriesto which she had formerly been accustomed, for fear of offending thenarrow prejudices of her guests, and she had made no changes in herhouse. The floor was not even polished. She had left the old somberhangings on the walls, had kept the old-fashioned country furniture, burned tallow candles, had fallen in with the ways of the place andadopted provincial life without flinching before its cast-ironnarrowness, its most disagreeable hardships; but knowing that herguests would forgive her for any prodigality that conduced to theircomfort, she left nothing undone where their personal enjoyment wasconcerned; her dinners, for instance, were excellent. She even went sofar as to affect avarice to recommend herself to these sordid natures;and had the ingenuity to make it appear that certain concessions toluxury had been made at the instance of others, to whom she hadgraciously yielded. 

Toward seven o'clock that evening, therefore, the nearest approach topolite society that Carentan could boast was assembled in Mme. De Dey'sdrawing-room, in a wide circle, about the fire. The old merchant'ssympathetic glances sustained the mistress of the house through thisordeal; with wonderful strength of mind, she underwent the curiousscrutiny of her guests, and bore with their trivial prosings. Everytime there was a knock at the door, at every sound of footsteps in thestreet, she hid her agitation by raising questions of absorbinginterest to the countryside. She led the conversation on to the burningtopic of the quality of various ciders, and was so well seconded by herfriend who shared her secret, that her guests almost forgot to watchher, and her face wore its wonted look; her self-possession wasunshaken. The public prosecutor and one of the judges of theRevolutionary Tribunal kept silence, however; noting the slightestchange that flickered over her features, listening through the noisytalk to every sound in the house. Several times they put awkwardquestions, which the Countess answered with wonderful presence of mind. So brave is a mother's heart!

Mme. De Dey had drawn her visitors into little groups, had made partiesof whist, boston, or reversis, and sat talking with some of the youngpeople; she seemed to be living completely in the present moment, andplayed her part like a consummate actress. She elicited a suggestion ofloto, and saying that no one else knew where to find the game, she leftthe room. 

"My good Brigitte, I cannot breathe down there!" she cried, brushingaway the tears that sprang to her eyes that glittered with fever, sorrow, and impatience. --She had gone up to her son's room, and waslooking round it. "He does not come, " she said. "Here I can breathe andlive. A few minutes more, and he will be here, for he is alive, I amsure that he is alive! my heart tells me so. Do you hear nothing, Brigitte? Oh! I would give the rest of my life to know whether he isstill in prison or tramping across the country. I would rather notthink. "

Once more she looked to see that everything was in order. A bright fireblazed on the hearth, the shutters were carefully closed, the furnitureshone with cleanliness, the bed had been made after a fashion thatshowed that Brigitte and the Countess had given their minds to everytrifling detail. It was impossible not to read her hopes in the daintyand thoughtful preparations about the room; love and a mother'stenderest caresses seemed to pervade the air in the scent of flowers. None but a mother could have foreseen the requirements of a soldier andarranged so completely for their satisfaction. A dainty meal, the bestof wine, clean linen, slippers--no necessary, no comfort, was lackingfor the weary traveler, and all the delights of home heaped upon himshould reveal his mother's love. 

"Oh, Brigitte!. . . " cried the Countess, with a heart-rending inflectionin her voice. She drew a chair to the table as if to strengthen herillusions and realize her longings. 

"Ah! madame, he is coming. He is not far off. . . . I haven't a doubt thathe is living and on his way, " Brigitte answered. "I put a key in theBible and held it on my fingers while Cottin read the Gospel of St. John, and the key did not turn, madame. "

"Is that a certain sign?" the Countess asked. 

"Why, yes, madame! everybody knows that. He is still alive; I wouldstake my salvation on it; God cannot be mistaken. "

"If only I could see him here in the house, in spite of the danger. "

"Poor Monsieur Auguste!" cried Brigitte; "I expect he is tramping alongthe lanes!"

"And that is eight o'clock striking now!" cried the Countess in terror. 

She was afraid that she had been too long in the room where she feltsure that her son was alive; all those preparations made for him meantthat he was alive. She went down, but she lingered a moment in theperistyle for any sound that might waken the sleeping echoes of thetown. She smiled at Brigitte's husband, who was standing there onguard; the man's eyes looked stupid with the strain of listening to thefaint sounds of the night. She stared into the darkness, seeing her sonin every shadow everywhere; but it was only for a moment. Then she wentback to the drawing-room with an assumption of high spirits, and beganto play at loto with the little girls. But from time to time shecomplained of feeling unwell, and went to sit in her great chair by thefireside. So things went in Mme. De Dey's house and in the minds ofthose beneath her roof. 

Meanwhile, on the road from Paris to Cherbourg, a young man, dressed inthe inevitable brown _carmagnole_ of those days, was plodding his waytoward Carentan. When the first levies were made, there was little orno discipline kept up. The exigencies of the moment scarcely admittedof soldiers being equipped at once, and it was no uncommon thing to seethe roads thronged with conscripts in their ordinary clothes. The youngfellows went ahead of their company to the next halting place, orlagged behind it; it depended upon their fitness to bear the fatiguesof a long march. This particular wayfarer was some considerable way inadvance of a company of conscripts on the way to Cherbourg, whom themayor was expecting to arrive every hour, for it was his duty todistribute their billets. The young man's footsteps were still firm ashe trudged along, and his bearing seemed to indicate that he was nostranger to the rough life of a soldier. The moon shone on the pastureland about Carentan, but he had noticed great masses of white cloudthat were about to scatter showers of snow over the country, anddoubtless the fear of being overtaken by a storm had quickened his pacein spite of his weariness. 

The wallet on his back was almost empty, and he carried a stick in hishand, cut from one of the high, thick box hedges that surround most ofthe farms in Lower Normandy. As the solitary wayfarer came intoCarentan, the gleaming moonlit outlines of its towers stood out for amoment with ghostly effect against the sky. He met no one in the silentstreets that rang with the echoes of his own footsteps, and was obligedto ask the way to the mayor's house of a weaver who was working late. The magistrate was not far to seek, and in a few minutes the conscriptwas sitting on a stone bench in the mayor's porch waiting for hisbillet. He was sent for, however, and confronted with that functionary, who scrutinized him closely. The foot soldier was a good-looking youngman, who appeared to be of gentle birth. There was somethingaristocratic in his bearing, and signs in his face of intelligencedeveloped by a good education. 

"What is your name?" asked the mayor, eying him shrewdly. 

"Julien Jussieu, " answered the conscript. 

"From--?" queried the official, and an incredulous smile stole over hisfeatures. 

"From Paris. "

"Your comrades must be a good way behind?" remarked the Norman insarcastic tones. 

"I am three leagues ahead of the battalion. "

"Some sentiment attracts you to Carentan, of course, citizen-conscript, " said the mayor astutely. "All right, all right!" headded, with a wave of the hand, seeing that the young man was about tospeak. "We know where to send you. There, off with you, _CitizenJussieu_, " and he handed over the billet. 

There was a tinge of irony in the stress the magistrate laid on the twolast words while he held out a billet on Mme. De Dey. The conscriptread the direction curiously. 

"He knows quite well that he has not far to go, and when he getsoutside he will very soon cross the marketplace, " said the mayor tohimself, as the other went out. "He is uncommonly bold! God guidehim!. . . He has an answer ready for everything. Yes, but if somebodyelse had asked to see his papers it would have been all up with him!"

The clocks in Carentan struck half-past nine as he spoke. Lanterns werebeing lit in Mme. De Dey's antechamber, servants were helping theirmasters and mistresses into sabots, greatcoats, and calashes. The cardplayers settled their accounts, and everybody went out together, afterthe fashion of all little country towns. 

"It looks as if the prosecutor meant to stop, " said a lady, who noticedthat that important personage was not in the group in the market-place, where they all took leave of one another before going their separateways home. And, as a matter of fact, that redoubtable functionary wasalone with the Countess, who waited trembling till he should go. Therewas something appalling in their long silence. 

"Citoyenne, " said he at last, "I am here to see that the laws of theRepublic are carried out--"

Mme. De Dey shuddered. 

"Have you nothing to tell me?"

"Nothing!" she answered, in amazement. 

"Ah! madame, " cried the prosecutor, sitting down beside her andchanging his tone. "At this moment, for lack of a word, one of us--youor I--may carry our heads to the scaffold. I have watched yourcharacter, your soul, your manner, too closely to share the error intowhich you have managed to lead your visitors to-night. You areexpecting your son, I could not doubt it. "

The Countess made an involuntary sign of denial, but her face had grownwhite and drawn with the struggle to maintain the composure that shedid not feel, and no tremor was lost on the merciless prosecutor. 

"Very well, " the Revolutionary official went on, "receive him; but donot let him stay under your roof after seven o'clock to-morrow morning;for to-morrow, as soon as it is light, I shall come with a denunciationthat I will have made out, and--"

She looked at him, and the dull misery in her eyes would have softeneda tiger. 

"I will make it clear that the denunciation was false by making athorough search, " he went on in a gentle voice; "my report shall besuch that you will be safe from any subsequent suspicion. I shall makemention of your patriotic gifts, your civism, and _all_ of us will besafe. "

Mme. De Dey, fearful of a trap, sat motionless, her face afire, hertongue frozen. A knock at the door rang through the house. 

"Oh!. . . " cried the terrified mother, falling upon her knees; "save him!save him!"

"Yes, let us save him!" returned the public prosecutor, and his eyesgrew bright as he looked at her, "if it costs _us_ our lives!"

"Lost!" she wailed. The prosecutor raised her politely. 

"Madame, " said he with a flourish of eloquence, "to your own free willalone would I owe--"

"Madame, he is--" cried Brigitte, thinking that her mistress was alone. At the sight of the public prosecutor, the old servant's joy-flushedcountenance became haggard and impassive. 

"Who is it, Brigitte?" the prosecutor asked kindly, as if he too werein the secret of the household. 

"A conscript that the mayor has sent here for a night's lodging, " thewoman replied, holding out the billet. 

"So it is, " said the prosecutor, when he had read the slip of paper. "Abattalion is coming here to-night. "

And he went. 

The Countess's need to believe in the faith of her sometime attorneywas so great, that she dared not entertain any suspicion of him. Shefled upstairs; she felt scarcely strength enough to stand; she openedthe door, and sprang, half dead with fear, into her son's arms. 

"Oh! my child! my child!" she sobbed, covering him with almost frenziedkisses. 

"Madame!. . . " said a stranger's voice. 

"Oh! it is not he!" she cried, shrinking away in terror, and she stoodface to face with the conscript, gazing at him with haggard eyes. 

"_O saint bon Dieu!_ how like he is!" cried Brigitte. 

There was silence for a moment; even the stranger trembled at the sightof Mme. De Dey's face. 

"Ah! monsieur, " she said, leaning on the arm of Brigitte's husband, feeling for the first time the full extent of a sorrow that had all butkilled her at its first threatening; "ah! monsieur, I cannot stay tosee you any longer . . . Permit my servants to supply my place, and tosee that you have all that you want. "

She went down to her own room, Brigitte and the old serving-man halfcarrying her between them. The housekeeper set her mistress in a chair, and broke out:

"What, madame! is that man to sleep in Monsieur Auguste's bed, and wearMonsieur Auguste's slippers, and eat the pasty that I made for MonsieurAuguste? Why, if they were to guillotine me for it, I--"

"Brigitte!" cried Mme. De Dey. 

Brigitte said no more. 

"Hold your tongue, chatterbox, " said her husband, in a low voice; "doyou want to kill madame?"

A sound came from the conscript's room as he drew his chair to thetable. 

"I shall not stay here, " cried Mme. De Dey; "I shall go into theconservatory; I shall hear better there if anyone passes in the night. "

She still wavered between the fear that she had lost her son and thehope of seeing him once more. That night was hideously silent. Once, for the Countess, there was an awful interval, when the battalion ofconscripts entered the town, and the men went by, one by one, to theirlodgings. Every footfall, every sound in the street, raised hopes to bedisappointed; but it was not for long, the dreadful quiet succeededagain. Toward morning the Countess was forced to return to her room. Brigitte, ever keeping watch over her mistress's movements, did not seeher come out again; and when she went, she found the Countess lyingthere dead. 

"I expect she heard that conscript, " cried Brigitte, "walking aboutMonsieur Auguste's room, whistling that accursed _Marseillaise_ oftheirs while he dressed, as if he had been in a stable! That must havekilled her. "

But it was a deeper and a more solemn emotion, and doubtless somedreadful vision, that had caused Mme. De Dey's death; for at the veryhour when she died at Carentan, her son was shot in le Morbihan. 

 * * * * *

This tragical story may be added to all the instances on record of theworkings of sympathies uncontrolled by the laws of time and space. These observations, collected with scientific curiosity by a fewisolated individuals, will one day serve as documents on which to basethe foundations of a new science which hitherto has lacked its man ofgenius. 

_Introduction to Zadig the Babylonian_

 _A work (says the author) which performs more than it promises. _

Voltaire never heard of a "detective story"; and yet he wrote the firstin modern literature, so clever as to be a model for all the othersthat followed. 

He describes his hero Zadig thus: "His chief talent consisted indiscovering the truth, "--in making swift, yet marvelous deductions, worthy of Sherlock Holmes or any other of the ingenious modern"thinking machines. "

But no one would be more surprised than Voltaire to behold the partthat Zadig now "performs. " The amusing Babylonian, now regarded as thearistocratic ancestor of modern story-detectives, was created as achief mocker in a satire on eighteenth-century manners, morals, andmetaphysics. 

Voltaire breathed his dazzling brilliance into "Zadig" as he did into ahundred other characters--for a political purpose. Their veiled andbitter satire was to make Europe think--to sting reason into action--toridicule out of existence a humbugging System of special privileges. Itdid, _via_ the French Revolution and the resulting upheavals. His proseromances are the most perfect of Voltaire's manifold expressions tothis end, which mark him the most powerful literary man of the century. 

But the arch-wit of his age outdid his brilliant self in "Zadig. " Sosurpassingly sharp and quick was this finished sleuth that his methodsfar outlived his satirical mission. His razor-mind was reincarnated acentury later as the fascinator of nations--M. Dupin. And from Poe'swizard up to Sherlock Holmes, no one of the thousand "detectives, "drawn in a myriad scenes that thrill the world of readers, but owes hisoutlines, at least, to "Zadig. "

"Don't use your reason--act like your friends--respect conventionalities--otherwise the world will absolutely refuse to let you be happy. " Thissums up the theory of life that Zadig satires. His comical troublesproceed entirely from his use of independent reason as opposed to thecustoms of his times. 

The satire fitted ancient Babylonia--it fitted eighteenth-centuryFrance--and perhaps the reader of these volumes can find some points ofcontact with his own surroundings. 

It is still piquant, however, to remember Zadig's original _raisond'être_. He happened to be cast in the part of what we now know as "adetective, " merely because Voltaire had been reading stories in the"Arabian Nights" whose heroes get out of scrapes by marvelousdeductions from simple signs. (See Vol. VI. )

Voltaire must have grinned at the delicious human interest, the subtleirony to pierce complacent humbugs, that lurked behind these Orientalsituations. He made the most of his chance for a quaint parable, applicable to the courts, the church and science of Europe. As thestory runs on, midst many and sudden adventures, the Babylonian readscauses from events in guileless fashion, enthusiastic as SherlockHolmes, and no less efficient--and all the while, behind this innocentmask, Voltaire is insinuating a comparison between the practicalresults of Zadig's common sense and the futile mental cobwebs spun bythe alleged thought of the time. 

Especially did "Zadig" caricature orthodox science, and the metaphysicians, whose solemn searches after final causes, after the reality behind theappearance of things, mostly wandered into hopeless tangles, and thusformed a great weapon of political oppression, by postponing the ageof reason and independent thought. Zadig "did not employ himself incalculating how many inches of water flow in a second of time under thearches of a bridge, or whether there fell a cube line of rain in themonth of the Mouse more than in the month of the Sheep. He neverdreamed of making silk of cobwebs, or porcelain of broken bottles; buthe chiefly studied the properties of plants and animals; and soonacquired a sagacity that made him _discover a thousand differenceswhere other men see nothing but uniformity_. "

FRANÇOIS MARIE AROUET DE VOLTAIRE

_Zadig the Babylonian_

THE BLIND OF ONE EYE

There lived at Babylon, in the reign of King Moabdar, a young man namedZadig, of a good natural disposition, strengthened and improved byeducation. Though rich and young, he had learned to moderate hispassions; he had nothing stiff or affected in his behavior, he did notpretend to examine every action by the strict rules of reason, but wasalways ready to make proper allowances for the weakness of mankind. 

It was matter of surprise that, notwithstanding his sprightly wit, henever exposed by his raillery those vague, incoherent, and noisydiscourses, those rash censures, ignorant decisions, coarse jests, andall that empty jingle of words which at Babylon went by the name ofconversation. He had learned, in the first book of Zoroaster, that selflove is a football swelled with wind, from which, when pierced, themost terrible tempests issue forth. 

Above all, Zadig never boasted of his conquests among the women, noraffected to entertain a contemptible opinion of the fair sex. He wasgenerous, and was never afraid of obliging the ungrateful; rememberingthe grand precept of Zoroaster, "When thou eatest, give to the dogs, should they even bite thee. " He was as wise as it is possible for manto be, for he sought to live with the wise. 

Instructed in the sciences of the ancient Chaldeans, he understood theprinciples of natural philosophy, such as they were then supposed tobe; and knew as much of metaphysics as hath ever been known in any age, that is, little or nothing at all. He was firmly persuaded, notwithstanding the new philosophy of the times, that the yearconsisted of three hundred and sixty-five days and six hours, and thatthe sun was in the center of the world. But when the principal magitold him, with a haughty and contemptuous air, that his sentiments wereof a dangerous tendency, and that it was to be an enemy to the state tobelieve that the sun revolved round its own axis, and that the year hadtwelve months, he held his tongue with great modesty and meekness. 

Possessed as he was of great riches, and consequently of many friends, blessed with a good constitution, a handsome figure, a mind just andmoderate, and a heart noble and sincere, he fondly imagined that hemight easily be happy. He was going to be married to Semira, who, inpoint of beauty, birth, and fortune, was the first match in Babylon. Hehad a real and virtuous affection for this lady, and she loved him withthe most passionate fondness. 

The happy moment was almost arrived that was to unite them forever inthe bands of wedlock, when happening to take a walk together toward oneof the gates of Babylon, under the palm trees that adorn the banks ofthe Euphrates, they saw some men approaching, armed with sabers andarrows. These were the attendants of young Orcan, the minister'snephew, whom his uncle's creatures had flattered into an opinion thathe might do everything with impunity. He had none of the graces norvirtues of Zadig; but thinking himself a much more accomplished man, hewas enraged to find that the other was preferred before him. Thisjealousy, which was merely the effect of his vanity, made him imaginethat he was desperately in love with Semira; and accordingly heresolved to carry her off. The ravishers seized her; in the violence ofthe outrage they wounded her, and made the blood flow from a person, the sight of which would have softened the tigers of Mount Imaus. Shepierced the heavens with her complaints. She cried out, "My dearhusband! they tear me from the man I adore. " Regardless of her owndanger, she was only concerned for the fate of her dear Zadig, who, inthe meantime, defended himself with all the strength that courage andlove could inspire. Assisted only by two slaves, he put the ravishersto flight and carried home Semira, insensible and bloody as she was. 

On opening her eyes and beholding her deliverer, "O Zadig!" said she, "I loved thee formerly as my intended husband; I now love thee as thepreserver of my honor and my life. " Never was heart more deeplyaffected than that of Semira. Never did a more charming mouth expressmore moving sentiments, in those glowing words inspired by a sense ofthe greatest of all favors, and by the most tender transports of alawful passion. 

Her wound was slight and was soon cured. Zadig was more dangerouslywounded; an arrow had pierced him near his eye, and penetrated to aconsiderable depth. Semira wearied Heaven with her prayers for therecovery of her lover. Her eyes were constantly bathed in tears; sheanxiously waited the happy moment when those of Zadig should be able tomeet hers; but an abscess growing on the wounded eye gave everything tofear. A messenger was immediately dispatched to Memphis for the greatphysician Hermes, who came with a numerous retinue. He visited thepatient and declared that he would lose his eye. He even foretold theday and hour when this fatal event would happen. "Had it been the righteye, " said he, "I could easily have cured it; but the wounds of theleft eye are incurable. " All Babylon lamented the fate of Zadig, andadmired the profound knowledge of Hermes. 

In two days the abscess broke of its own accord and Zadig was perfectlycured. Hermes wrote a book to prove that it ought not to have beencured. Zadig did not read it; but, as soon as he was able to go abroad, he went to pay a visit to her in whom all his hopes of happiness werecentered, and for whose sake alone he wished to have eyes. Semira hadbeen in the country for three days past. He learned on the road thatthat fine lady, having openly declared that she had an unconquerableaversion to one-eyed men, had the night before given her hand to Orcan. At this news he fell speechless to the ground. His sorrow brought himalmost to the brink of the grave. He was long indisposed; but reason atlast got the better of his affliction, and the severity of his fateserved to console him. 

"Since, " said he, "I have suffered so much from the cruel caprice of awoman educated at court, I must now think of marrying the daughter of acitizen. " He pitched upon Azora, a lady of the greatest prudence, andof the best family in town. He married her and lived with her for threemonths in all the delights of the most tender union. He only observedthat she had a little levity; and was too apt to find that those youngmen who had the most handsome persons were likewise possessed of mostwit and virtue. 

THE NOSE

One morning Azora returned from a walk in a terrible passion, anduttering the most violent exclamations. "What aileth thee, " said he, "my dear spouse? What is it that can thus have discomposed thee?"

"Alas, " said she, "thou wouldst be as much enraged as I am hadst thouseen what I have just beheld. I have been to comfort the young widowCosrou, who, within these two days, hath raised a tomb to her younghusband, near the rivulet that washes the skirts of this meadow. Shevowed to heaven, in the bitterness of her grief, to remain at this tombwhile the water of the rivulet should continue to run near it. "

"Well, " said Zadig, "she is an excellent woman, and loved her husbandwith the most sincere affection. "

"Ah, " replied Azora, "didst thou but know in what she was employed whenI went to wait upon her!"

"In what, pray, beautiful Azora? Was she turning the course of therivulet?"

Azora broke out into such long invectives and loaded the young widowwith such bitter reproaches, that Zadig was far from being pleased withthis ostentation of virtue. 

Zadig had a friend named Cador, one of those young men in whom his wifediscovered more probity and merit than in others. He made him hisconfidant, and secured his fidelity as much as possible by aconsiderable present. Azora, having passed two days with a friend inthe country, returned home on the third. The servants told her, withtears in their eyes, that her husband died suddenly the night before;that they were afraid to send her an account of this mournful event;and that they had just been depositing his corpse in the tomb of hisancestors, at the end of the garden. She wept, she tore her hair, andswore she would follow him to the grave. 

In the evening Cador begged leave to wait upon her, and joined histears with hers. Next day they wept less, and dined together. Cadortold her that his friend had left him the greatest part of his estate;and that he should think himself extremely happy in sharing his fortunewith her. The lady wept, fell into a passion, and at last became moremild and gentle. They sat longer at supper than at dinner. They nowtalked with greater confidence. Azora praised the deceased; but ownedthat he had many failings from which Cador was free. 

During supper Cador complained of a violent pain in his side. The lady, greatly concerned, and eager to serve him, caused all kinds of essencesto be brought, with which she anointed him, to try if some of themmight not possibly ease him of his pain. She lamented that the greatHermes was not still in Babylon. She even condescended to touch theside in which Cador felt such exquisite pain. 

"Art thou subject to this cruel disorder?" said she to him with acompassionate air. 

"It sometimes brings me, " replied Cador, "to the brink of the grave;and there is but one remedy that can give me relief, and that is toapply to my side the nose of a man who is lately dead. "

"A strange remedy, indeed!" said Azora. 

"Not more strange, " replied he, "than the sachels of Arnon against theapoplexy. " This reason, added to the great merit of the young man, atlast determined the lady. 

"After all, " says she, "when my husband shall cross the bridgeTchinavar, in his journey to the other world, the angel Asrael will notrefuse him a passage because his nose is a little shorter in the secondlife than it was in the first. " She then took a razor, went to herhusband's tomb, bedewed it with her tears, and drew near to cut off thenose of Zadig, whom she found extended at full length in the tomb. Zadig arose, holding his nose with one hand, and, putting back therazor with the other, "Madam, " said he, "don't exclaim so violentlyagainst young Cosrou; the project of cutting off my nose is equal tothat of turning the course of a rivulet. "

THE DOG AND THE HORSE

Zadig found by experience that the first month of marriage, as it iswritten in the book of Zend, is the moon of honey, and that the secondis the moon of wormwood. He was some time after obliged to repudiateAzora, who became too difficult to be pleased; and he then sought forhappiness in the study of nature. "No man, " said he, "can be happierthan a philosopher who reads in this great book which God hath placedbefore our eyes. The truths he discovers are his own, he nourishes andexalts his soul; he lives in peace; he fears nothing from men; and histender spouse will not come to cut off his nose. "

Possessed of these ideas he retired to a country house on the banks ofthe Euphrates. There he did not employ himself in calculating how manyinches of water flow in a second of time under the arches of a bridge, or whether there fell a cube line of rain in the month of the Mousemore than in the month of the Sheep. He never dreamed of making silk ofcobwebs, or porcelain of broken bottles; but he chiefly studied theproperties of plants and animals; and soon acquired a sagacity thatmade him discover a thousand differences where other men see nothingbut uniformity. 

One day, as he was walking near a little wood, he saw one of thequeen's eunuchs running toward him, followed by several officers, whoappeared to be in great perplexity, and who ran to and fro like mendistracted, eagerly searching for something they had lost of greatvalue. "Young man, " said the first eunuch, "hast thou seen the queen'sdog?" "It is a female, " replied Zadig. "Thou art in the right, "returned the first eunuch. "It is a very small she spaniel, " addedZadig; "she has lately whelped; she limps on the left forefoot, and hasvery long ears. " "Thou hast seen her, " said the first eunuch, quite outof breath. "No, " replied Zadig, "I have not seen her, nor did I so muchas know that the queen had a dog. "

Exactly at the same time, by one of the common freaks of fortune, thefinest horse in the king's stable had escaped from the jockey in theplains of Babylon. The principal huntsman and all the other officersran after him with as much eagerness and anxiety as the first eunuchhad done after the spaniel. The principal huntsman addressed himself toZadig, and asked him if he had not seen the king's horse passing by. "He is the fleetest horse in the king's stable, " replied Zadig; "he isfive feet high, with very small hoofs, and a tail three feet and a halfin length; the studs on his bit are gold of twenty-three carats, andhis shoes are silver of eleven pennyweights. " "What way did he take?where is he?" demanded the chief huntsman. "I have not seen him, "replied Zadig, "and never heard talk of him before. "

The principal huntsman and the first eunuch never doubted but thatZadig had stolen the king's horse and the queen's spaniel. Theytherefore had him conducted before the assembly of the grand desterham, who condemned him to the knout, and to spend the rest of his days inSiberia. Hardly was the sentence passed when the horse and the spanielwere both found. The judges were reduced to the disagreeable necessityof reversing their sentence; but they condemned Zadig to pay fourhundred ounces of gold for having said that he had not seen what he hadseen. This fine he was obliged to pay; after which he was permitted toplead his cause before the counsel of the grand desterham, when hespoke to the following effect:

"Ye stars of justice, abyss of sciences, mirrors of truth, who have theweight of lead, the hardness of iron, the splendor of the diamond, andmany properties of gold: Since I am permitted to speak before thisaugust assembly, I swear to you by Oramades that I have never seen thequeen's respectable spaniel, nor the sacred horse of the king of kings. The truth of the matter was as follows: I was walking toward the littlewood, where I afterwards met the venerable eunuch, and the mostillustrious chief huntsman. I observed on the sand the traces of ananimal, and could easily perceive them to be those of a little dog. Thelight and long furrows impressed on little eminences of sand betweenthe marks of the paws plainly discovered that it was a female, whosedugs were hanging down, and that therefore she must have whelped a fewdays before. Other traces of a different kind, that always appeared tohave gently brushed the surface of the sand near the marks of theforefeet, showed me that she had very long ears; and as I remarked thatthere was always a slighter impression made on the sand by one footthan the other three, I found that the spaniel of our august queen wasa little lame, if I may be allowed the expression. 

"With regard to the horse of the king of kings, you will be pleased toknow that, walking in the lanes of this wood, I observed the marks of ahorse's shoes, all at equal distances. This must be a horse, said I tomyself, that gallops excellently. The dust on the trees in the roadthat was but seven feet wide was a little brushed off, at the distanceof three feet and a half from the middle of the road. This horse, saidI, has a tail three feet and a half long, which being whisked to theright and left, has swept away the dust. I observed under the treesthat formed an arbor five feet in height, that the leaves of thebranches were newly fallen; from whence I inferred that the horse hadtouched them, and that he must therefore be five feet high. As to hisbit, it must be gold of twenty-three carats, for he had rubbed itsbosses against a stone which I knew to be a touchstone, and which Ihave tried. In a word, from the marks made by his shoes on flints ofanother kind, I concluded that he was shod with silver eleven deniersfine. "

All the judges admired Zadig for his acute and profound discernment. The news of this speech was carried even to the king and queen. Nothingwas talked of but Zadig in the antechambers, the chambers, and thecabinet; and though many of the magi were of opinion that he ought tobe burned as a sorcerer, the king ordered his officers to restore himthe four hundred ounces of gold which he had been obliged to pay. Theregister, the attorneys, and bailiffs, went to his house with greatformality, to carry him back his four hundred ounces. They onlyretained three hundred and ninety-eight of them to defray the expensesof justice; and their servants demanded their fees. 

Zadig saw how extremely dangerous it sometimes is to appear tooknowing, and therefore resolved that on the next occasion of the likenature he would not tell what he had seen. 

Such an opportunity soon offered. A prisoner of state made his escape, and passed under the window of Zadig's house. Zadig was examined andmade no answer. But it was proved that he had looked at the prisonerfrom this window. For this crime he was condemned to pay five hundredounces of gold; and, according to the polite custom of Babylon, hethanked his judges for their indulgence. 

"Great God!" said he to himself, "what a misfortune it is to walk in awood through which the queen's spaniel or the king's horse has passed!how dangerous to look out at a window! and how difficult to be happy inthis life!"

THE ENVIOUS MAN

Zadig resolved to comfort himself by philosophy and friendship for theevils he had suffered from fortune. He had in the suburbs of Babylon ahouse elegantly furnished, in which he assembled all the arts and allthe pleasures worthy the pursuit of a gentleman. In the morning hislibrary was open to the learned. In the evening his table wassurrounded by good company. But he soon found what very dangerousguests these men of letters are. A warm dispute arose on one ofZoroaster's laws, which forbids the eating of a griffin. "Why, " saidsome of them, "prohibit the eating of a griffin, if there is no such ananimal in nature?" "There must necessarily be such an animal, " said theothers, "since Zoroaster forbids us to eat it. " Zadig would fain havereconciled them by saying, "If there are no griffins, we cannotpossibly eat them; and thus either way we shall obey Zoroaster. "

A learned man who had composed thirteen volumes on the properties ofthe griffin, and was besides the chief theurgite, hastened away toaccuse Zadig before one of the principal magi, named Yebor, thegreatest blockhead and therefore the greatest fanatic among theChaldeans. This man would have impaled Zadig to do honors to the sun, and would then have recited the breviary of Zoroaster with greatersatisfaction. The friend Cador (a friend is better than a hundredpriests) went to Yebor, and said to him, "Long live the sun and thegriffins; beware of punishing Zadig; he is a saint; he has griffins inhis inner court and does not eat them; and his accuser is an heretic, who dares to maintain that rabbits have cloven feet and are notunclean. "

"Well, " said Yebor, shaking his bald pate, "we must impale Zadig forhaving thought contemptuously of griffins, and the other for havingspoken disrespectfully of rabbits. " Cador hushed up the affair by meansof a maid of honor with whom he had a love affair, and who had greatinterest in the College of the Magi. Nobody was impaled. 

This levity occasioned a great murmuring among some of the doctors, whofrom thence predicted the fall of Babylon. "Upon what does happinessdepend?" said Zadig. "I am persecuted by everything in the world, evenon account of beings that have no existence. " He cursed those men oflearning, and resolved for the future to live with none but goodcompany. 

He assembled at his house the most worthy men and the most beautifulladies of Babylon. He gave them delicious suppers, often preceded byconcerts of music, and always animated by polite conversation, fromwhich he knew how to banish that affectation of wit which is the surestmethod of preventing it entirely, and of spoiling the pleasure of themost agreeable society. Neither the choice of his friends, nor that ofthe dishes was made by vanity; for in everything he preferred thesubstance to the shadow; and by these means he procured that realrespect to which he did not aspire. 

Opposite to his house lived one Arimazes, a man whose deformedcountenance was but a faint picture of his still more deformed mind. His heart was a mixture of malice, pride, and envy. Having never beenable to succeed in any of his undertakings, he revenged himself on allaround him by loading them with the blackest calumnies. Rich as he was, he found it difficult to procure a set of flatterers. The rattling ofthe chariots that entered Zadig's court in the evening filled him withuneasiness; the sound of his praises enraged him still more. Hesometimes went to Zadig's house, and sat down at table without beingdesired; where he spoiled all the pleasure of the company, as theharpies are said to infect the viands they touch. It happened that oneday he took it in his head to give an entertainment to a lady, who, instead of accepting it, went to sup with Zadig. At another time, as hewas talking with Zadig at court, a minister of state came up to them, and invited Zadig to supper without inviting Arimazes. The mostimplacable hatred has seldom a more solid foundation. This man, who inBabylon was called the Envious, resolved to ruin Zadig because he wascalled the Happy. "The opportunity of doing mischief occurs a hundredtimes in a day, and that of doing good but once a year, " as sayeth thewise Zoroaster. 

The envious man went to see Zadig, who was walking in his garden withtwo friends and a lady, to whom he said many gallant things, withoutany other intention than that of saying them. The conversation turnedupon a war which the king had just brought to a happy conclusionagainst the prince of Hircania, his vassal. Zadig, who had signalizedhis courage in this short war, bestowed great praises on the king, butgreater still on the lady. He took out his pocketbook, and wrote fourlines extempore, which he gave to this amiable person to read. Hisfriends begged they might see them; but modesty, or rather awell-regulated self love, would not allow him to grant their request. He knew that extemporary verses are never approved of by any but by theperson in whose honor they are written. He therefore tore in two theleaf on which he had wrote them, and threw both the pieces into athicket of rosebushes, where the rest of the company sought for them invain. A slight shower falling soon after obliged them to return to thehouse. The envious man, who stayed in the garden, continued the searchtill at last he found a piece of the leaf. It had been torn in such amanner that each half of a line formed a complete sense, and even averse of a shorter measure; but what was still more surprising, theseshort verses were found to contain the most injurious reflections onthe king. They ran thus:

 To flagrant crimes. His crown he owes, To peaceful times. The worst of foes. 

The envious man was now happy for the first time of his life. He had itin his power to ruin a person of virtue and merit. Filled with thisfiendlike joy, he found means to convey to the king the satire writtenby the hand of Zadig, who, together with the lady and his two friends, was thrown into prison. 

His trial was soon finished, without his being permitted to speak forhimself. As he was going to receive his sentence, the envious man threwhimself in his way and told him with a loud voice that his verses weregood for nothing. Zadig did not value himself on being a good poet; butit filled him with inexpressible concern to find that he was condemnedfor high treason; and that the fair lady and his two friends wereconfined in prison for a crime of which they were not guilty. He wasnot allowed to speak because his writing spoke for him. Such was thelaw of Babylon. Accordingly he was conducted to the place of execution, through an immense crowd of spectators, who durst not venture toexpress their pity for him, but who carefully examined his countenanceto see if he died with a good grace. His relations alone wereinconsolable, for they could not succeed to his estate. Three fourthsof his wealth were confiscated into the king's treasury, and the otherfourth was given to the envious man. 

Just as he was preparing for death the king's parrot flew from its cageand alighted on a rosebush in Zadig's garden. A peach had been driventhither by the wind from a neighboring tree, and had fallen on a pieceof the written leaf of the pocketbook to which it stuck. The birdcarried off the peach and the paper and laid them on the king's knee. The king took up the paper with great eagerness and read the words, which formed no sense, and seemed to be the endings of verses. He lovedpoetry; and there is always some mercy to be expected from a prince ofthat disposition. The adventure of the parrot set him a-thinking. 

The queen, who remembered what had been written on the piece of Zadig'spocketbook, caused it to be brought. They compared the two piecestogether and found them to tally exactly; they then read the verses asZadig had wrote them. 

TYRANTS ARE PRONE TO FLAGRANT CRIMES. TO CLEMENCY HIS CROWN HE OWES. TO CONCORD AND TO PEACEFUL TIMES. LOVE ONLY IS THE WORST OF FOES. 

The king gave immediate orders that Zadig should be brought before him, and that his two friends and the lady should be set at liberty. Zadigfell prostrate on the ground before the king and queen; humbly beggedtheir pardon for having made such bad verses and spoke with so muchpropriety, wit, and good sense, that their majesties desired they mightsee him again. He did himself that honor, and insinuated himself stillfarther into their good graces. They gave him all the wealth of theenvious man; but Zadig restored him back the whole of it. And thisinstance of generosity gave no other pleasure to the envious man thanthat of having preserved his estate. 

The king's esteem for Zadig increased every day. He admitted him intoall his parties of pleasure, and consulted him in all affairs of state. From that time the queen began to regard him with an eye of tendernessthat might one day prove dangerous to herself, to the king, her augustcomfort, to Zadig, and to the kingdom in general. Zadig now began tothink that happiness was not so unattainable as he had formerlyimagined. 

THE GENEROUS

The time now arrived for celebrating a grand festival, which returnedevery five years. It was a custom in Babylon solemnly to declare at theend of every five years which of the citizens had performed the mostgenerous action. The grandees and the magi were the judges. The firstsatrap, who was charged with the government of the city, published themost noble actions that had passed under his administration. Thecompetition was decided by votes; and the king pronounced the sentence. People came to this solemnity from the extremities of the earth. Theconqueror received from the monarch's hand a golden cup adorned withprecious stones, his majesty at the same time making him thiscompliment:

"Receive this reward of thy generosity, and may the gods grant me manysubjects like to thee. "

This memorable day being come, the king appeared on his throne, surrounded by the grandees, the magi, and the deputies of all nationsthat came to these games, where glory was acquired not by the swiftnessof horses, nor by strength of body, but by virtue. The first satraprecited, with an audible voice, such actions as might entitle theauthors of them to this invaluable prize. He did not mention thegreatness of soul with which Zadig had restored the envious man hisfortune, because it was not judged to be an action worthy of disputingthe prize. 

He first presented a judge who, having made a citizen lose aconsiderable cause by a mistake, for which, after all, he was notaccountable, had given him the whole of his own estate, which was justequal to what the other had lost. 

He next produced a young man who, being desperately in love with a ladywhom he was going to marry, had yielded her up to his friend, whosepassion for her had almost brought him to the brink of the grave, andat the same time had given him the lady's fortune. 

He afterwards produced a soldier who, in the wars of Hircania, hadgiven a still more noble instance of generosity. A party of the enemyhaving seized his mistress, he fought in her defense with greatintrepidity. At that very instant he was informed that another party, at the distance of a few paces, were carrying off his mother; hetherefore left his mistress with tears in his eyes and flew to theassistance of his mother. At last he returned to the dear object of hislove and found her expiring. He was just going to plunge his sword inhis own bosom; but his mother remonstrating against such a desperatedeed, and telling him that he was the only support of her life, he hadthe courage to endure to live. 

The judges were inclined to give the prize to the soldier. But the kingtook up the discourse and said: "The action of the soldier, and thoseof the other two, are doubtless very great, but they have nothing inthem surprising. Yesterday Zadig performed an action that filled mewith wonder. I had a few days before disgraced Coreb, my minister andfavorite. I complained of him in the most violent and bitter terms; allmy courtiers assured me that I was too gentle and seemed to vie witheach other in speaking ill of Coreb. I asked Zadig what he thought ofhim, and he had the courage to commend him. I have read in ourhistories of many people who have atoned for an error by the surrenderof their fortune; who have resigned a mistress; or preferred a motherto the object of their affection; but never before did I hear of acourtier who spoke favorably of a disgraced minister that labored underthe displeasure of his sovereign. I give to each of those whosegenerous actions have been now recited twenty thousand pieces of gold;but the cup I give to Zadig. "

"May it please your majesty, " said Zadig, "thyself alone deservest thecup; thou hast performed an action of all others the most uncommon andmeritorious, since, notwithstanding thy being a powerful king, thouwast not offended at thy slave when he presumed to oppose thy passion. "The king and Zadig were equally the object of admiration. The judge, who had given his estate to his client; the lover, who had resigned hismistress to a friend; and the soldier, who had preferred the safety ofhis mother to that of his mistress, received the king's presents andsaw their names enrolled in the catalogue of generous men. Zadig hadthe cup, and the king acquired the reputation of a good prince, whichhe did not long enjoy. The day was celebrated by feasts that lastedlonger than the law enjoined; and the memory of it is still preservedin Asia. Zadig said, "Now I am happy at last"; but he found himselffatally deceived. 

THE MINISTER

The king had lost his first minister and chose Zadig to supply hisplace. All the ladies in Babylon applauded the choice; for since thefoundation of the empire there had never been such a young minister. But all the courtiers were filled with jealousy and vexation. Theenvious man in particular was troubled with a spitting of blood and aprodigious inflammation in his nose. Zadig, having thanked the king andqueen for their goodness, went likewise to thank the parrot. "Beautifulbird, " said he, "'tis thou that hast saved my life and made me firstminister. The queen's spaniel and the king's horse did me a great dealof mischief; but thou hast done me much good. Upon such slender threadsas these do the fates of mortals hang! But, " added he, "this happinessperhaps will vanish very soon. "

"Soon, " replied the parrot. 

Zadig was somewhat startled at this word. But as he was a good naturalphilosopher and did not believe parrots to be prophets, he quicklyrecovered his spirits and resolved to execute his duty to the best ofhis power. 

He made everyone feel the sacred authority of the laws, but no one feltthe weight of his dignity. He never checked the deliberation of thediran; and every vizier might give his opinion without the fear ofincurring the minister's displeasure. When he gave judgment, it was nothe that gave it, it was the law; the rigor of which, however, wheneverit was too severe, he always took care to soften; and when laws werewanting, the equity of his decisions was such as might easily have madethem pass for those of Zoroaster. It is to him that the nations areindebted for this grand principle, to wit, that it is better to run therisk of sparing the guilty than to condemn the innocent. He imaginedthat laws were made as well to secure the people from the suffering ofinjuries as to restrain them from the commission of crimes. His chieftalent consisted in discovering the truth, which all men seek toobscure. 

This great talent he put in practice from the very beginning of hisadministration. A famous merchant of Babylon, who died in the Indies, divided his estate equally between his two sons, after having disposedof their sister in marriage, and left a present of thirty thousandpieces of gold to that son who should be found to have loved him best. The eldest raised a tomb to his memory; the youngest increased hissister's portion, by giving her part of his inheritance. Everyone saidthat the eldest son loved his father best, and the youngest his sister;and that the thirty thousand pieces belonged to the eldest. 

Zadig sent for both of them, the one after the other. To the eldest hesaid: "Thy father is not dead; he is recovered of his last illness, andis returning to Babylon. " "God be praised, " replied the young man; "buthis tomb cost me a considerable sum. " Zadig afterwards said the same tothe youngest. "God be praised, " said he, "I will go and restore to myfather all that I have; but I could wish that he would leave my sisterwhat I have given her. " "Thou shalt restore nothing, " replied Zadig, "and thou shalt have the thirty thousand pieces, for thou art the sonwho loves his father best. "

THE DISPUTES AND THE AUDIENCES

In this manner he daily discovered the subtilty of his genius and thegoodness of his heart. The people at once admired and loved him. Hepassed for the happiest man in the world. The whole empire resoundedwith his name. All the ladies ogled him. All the men praised him forhis justice. The learned regarded him as an oracle; and even thepriests confessed that he knew more than the old arch-magi Yebor. Theywere now so far from prosecuting him on account of the griffin, thatthey believed nothing but what he thought credible. 

There had reigned in Babylon, for the space of fifteen hundred years, aviolent contest that had divided the empire into two sects. The onepretended that they ought to enter the temple of Mitra with the leftfoot foremost; the other held this custom in detestation and alwaysentered with the right foot first. The people waited with greatimpatience for the day on which the solemn feast of the sacred fire wasto be celebrated, to see which sect Zadig would favor. All the worldhad their eyes fixed on his two feet, and the whole city was in theutmost suspense and perturbation. Zadig jumped into the temple with hisfeet joined together, and afterwards proved, in an eloquent discourse, that the Sovereign of heaven and earth, who accepted not the persons ofmen, makes no distinction between the right and left foot. The enviousman and his wife alleged that his discourse was not figurative enough, and that he did not make the rocks and mountains to dance withsufficient agility. 

"He is dry, " said they, "and void of genius; he does not make the fleato fly, and stars to fall, nor the sun to melt wax; he has not the trueOriental style. " Zadig contented himself with having the style ofreason. All the world favored him, not because he was in the right roador followed the dictates of reason, or was a man of real merit, butbecause he was prime vizier. 

He terminated with the same happy address the grand difference betweenthe white and the black magi. The former maintained that it was theheight of impiety to pray to God with the face turned toward the eastin winter; the latter asserted that God abhorred the prayers of thosewho turned toward the west in summer. Zadig decreed that every manshould be allowed to turn as he pleased. 

Thus he found out the happy secret of finishing all affairs, whether ofa private or public nature, in the morning. The rest of the day heemployed in superintending and promoting the embellishments of Babylon. He exhibited tragedies that drew tears from the eyes of the spectators, and comedies that shook their sides with laughter; a custom which hadlong been disused, and which his good taste now induced him to revive. He never affected to be more knowing in the polite arts than theartists themselves; he encouraged them by rewards and honors, and wasnever jealous of their talents. In the evening the king was highlyentertained with his conversation, and the queen still more. "Greatminister!" said the king. "Amiable minister!" said the queen; and bothof them added, "It would have been a great loss to the state had such aman been hanged. "

Never was man in power obliged to give so many audiences to the ladies. Most of them came to consult him about no business at all, that so theymight have some business with him. But none of them won his attention. 

Meanwhile Zadig perceived that his thoughts were always distracted, aswell when he gave audience as when he sat in judgment. He did not knowto what to attribute this absence of mind; and that was his onlysorrow. 

He had a dream in which he imagined that he laid himself down upon aheap of dry herbs, among which there were many prickly ones that gavehim great uneasiness, and that he afterwards reposed himself on a softbed of roses from which there sprung a serpent that wounded him to theheart with its sharp and venomed tongue. "Alas, " said he, "I have longlain on these dry and prickly herbs, I am now on the bed of roses; butwhat shall be the serpent?"

JEALOUSY

Zadig's calamities sprung even from his happiness and especially fromhis merit. He every day conversed with the king and Astarte, his augustcomfort. The charms of his conversation were greatly heightened by thatdesire of pleasing, which is to the mind what dress is to beauty. Hisyouth and graceful appearance insensibly made an impression on Astarte, which she did not at first perceive. Her passion grew and flourished inthe bosom of innocence. Without fear or scruple, she indulged thepleasing satisfaction of seeing and hearing a man who was so dear toher husband and to the empire in general. She was continually praisinghim to the king. She talked of him to her women, who were always sureto improve on her praises. And thus everything contributed to pierceher heart with a dart, of which she did not seem to be sensible. Shemade several presents to Zadig, which discovered a greater spirit ofgallantry than she imagined. She intended to speak to him only as aqueen satisfied with his services and her expressions were sometimesthose of a woman in love. 

Astarte was much more beautiful than that Semira who had such a strongaversion to one-eyed men, or that other woman who had resolved to cutoff her husband's nose. Her unreserved familiarity, her tenderexpressions, at which she began to blush; and her eyes, which, thoughshe endeavored to divert them to other objects, were always fixed uponhis, inspired Zadig with a passion that filled him with astonishment. He struggled hard to get the better of it. He called to his aid theprecepts of philosophy, which had always stood him in stead; but fromthence, though he could derive the light of knowledge, he could procureno remedy to cure the disorders of his lovesick heart. Duty, gratitude, and violated majesty presented themselves to his mind as so manyavenging gods. He struggled; he conquered; but this victory, which hewas obliged to purchase afresh every moment, cost him many sighs andtears. He no longer dared to speak to the queen with that sweet andcharming familiarity which had been so agreeable to them both. Hiscountenance was covered with a cloud. His conversation was constrainedand incoherent. His eyes were fixed on the ground; and when, in spiteof all his endeavors to the contrary, they encountered those of thequeen, they found them bathed in tears and darting arrows of flame. They seemed to say, We adore each other and yet are afraid to love; weboth burn with a fire which we both condemn. 

Zadig left the royal presence full of perplexity and despair, andhaving his heart oppressed with a burden which he was no longer able tobear. In the violence of his perturbation he involuntarily betrayed thesecret to his friend Cador, in the same manner as a man who, havinglong supported the fits of a cruel disease, discovered his pain by acry extorted from him by a more severe fit and by the cold sweat thatcovers his brow. 

"I have already discovered, " said Cador, "the sentiments which thouwouldst fain conceal from thyself. The symptoms by which the passionsshow themselves are certain and infallible. Judge, my dear Zadig, sinceI have read thy heart, whether the king will not discover something init that may give him offense. He has no other fault but that of beingthe most jealous man in the world. Thou canst resist the violence ofthy passion with greater fortitude than the queen because thou art aphilosopher, and because thou art Zadig. Astarte is a woman: shesuffers her eyes to speak with so much the more imprudence, as she doesnot as yet think herself guilty. Conscious of her innocence sheunhappily neglects those external appearances which are so necessary. Ishall tremble for her so long as she has nothing wherewithal toreproach herself. Were ye both of one mind, ye might easily deceive thewhole world. A growing passion, which we endeavor to suppress, discovers itself in spite of all our efforts to the contrary; but love, when gratified, is easily concealed. "

Zadig trembled at the proposal of betraying the king, his benefactor;and never was he more faithful to his prince than when guilty of aninvoluntary crime against him. 

Meanwhile the queen mentioned the name of Zadig so frequently and withsuch a blushing and downcast look; she was sometimes so lively andsometimes so perplexed when she spoke to him in the king's presence, and was seized with such deep thoughtfulness at his going away, thatthe king began to be troubled. He believed all that he saw and imaginedall that he did not see. He particularly remarked that his wife's shoeswere blue and that Zadig's shoes were blue; that his wife's ribbonswere yellow and that Zadig's bonnet was yellow; and these were terriblesymptoms to a prince of so much delicacy. In his jealous mindsuspicions were turned into certainty. 

All the slaves of kings and queens are so many spies over their hearts. They soon observed that Astarte was tender and that Moabdar wasjealous. The envious man brought false report to the king. The monarchnow thought of nothing but in what manner he might best execute hisvengeance. He one night resolved to poison the queen and in the morningto put Zadig to death by the bowstring. The orders were given to amerciless eunuch, who commonly executed his acts of vengeance. Therehappened at that time to be in the king's chamber a little dwarf, who, though dumb, was not deaf. He was allowed, on account of hisinsignificance, to go wherever he pleased, and as a domestic animal, was a witness of what passed in the most profound secrecy. This littlemute was strongly attached to the queen and Zadig. With equal horrorand surprise he heard the cruel orders given. But how to prevent thefatal sentence that in a few hours was to be carried into execution! Hecould not write, but he could paint; and excelled particularly indrawing a striking resemblance. He employed a part of the night insketching out with his pencil what he meant to impart to the queen. Thepiece represented the king in one corner, boiling with rage, and givingorders to the eunuch; a bowstring, and a bowl on a table; the queen inthe middle of the picture, expiring in the arms of her woman, and Zadigstrangled at her feet. The horizon represented a rising sun, to expressthat this shocking execution was to be performed in the morning. Assoon as he had finished the picture he ran to one of Astarte's women, awakened her, and made her understand that she must immediately carryit to the queen. 

At midnight a messenger knocks at Zadig's door, awakes him, and giveshim a note from the queen. He doubts whether it is a dream; and opensthe letter with a trembling hand. But how great was his surprise! andwho can express the consternation and despair into which he was thrownupon reading these words: "Fly this instant, or thou art a dead man. Fly, Zadig, I conjure thee by our mutual love and my yellow ribbons. Ihave not been guilty, but I find I must die like a criminal. "

Zadig was hardly able to speak. He sent for Cador, and, withoututtering a word, gave him the note. Cador forced him to obey, andforthwith to take the road to Memphis. "Shouldst thou dare, " said he, "to go in search of the queen, thou wilt hasten her death. Shouldstthou speak to the king, thou wilt infallibly ruin her. I will take uponme the charge of her destiny; follow thy own. I will spread a reportthat thou hast taken the road to India. I will soon follow thee, andinform thee of all that shall have passed in Babylon. " At that instant, Cador caused two of the swiftest dromedaries to be brought to a privategate of the palace. Upon one of these he mounted Zadig, whom he wasobliged to carry to the door, and who was ready to expire with grief. He was accompanied by a single domestic; and Cador, plunged in sorrowand astonishment, soon lost sight of his friend. 

This illustrious fugitive arriving on the side of a hill, from whencehe could take a view of Babylon, turned his eyes toward the queen'spalace, and fainted away at the sight; nor did he recover his sensesbut to shed a torrent of tears and to wish for death. At length, afterhis thoughts had been long engrossed in lamenting the unhappy fate ofthe loveliest woman and the greatest queen in the world, he for amoment turned his views on himself and cried: "What then is human life?O virtue, how hast thou served me! Two women have basely deceived me, and now a third, who is innocent, and more beautiful than both theothers, is going to be put to death! Whatever good I have done hathbeen to me a continual source of calamity and affliction; and I haveonly been raised to the height of grandeur, to be tumbled down the mosthorrid precipice of misfortune. " Filled with these gloomy reflections, his eyes overspread with the veil of grief, his countenance coveredwith the paleness of death, and his soul plunged in an abyss of theblackest despair, he continued his journey toward Egypt. 

THE WOMAN BEATEN

Zadig directed his course by the stars. The constellation of Orion andthe splendid Dog Star guided his steps toward the pole of Cassiopæa. Headmired those vast globes of light, which appear to our eyes but as somany little sparks, while the earth, which in reality is only animperceptible point in nature, appears to our fond imaginations assomething so grand and noble. 

He then represented to himself the human species as it really is, as aparcel of insects devouring one another on a little atom of clay. Thistrue image seemed to annihilate his misfortunes, by making him sensibleof the nothingness of his own being, and of that of Babylon. His soullaunched out into infinity, and, detached from the senses, contemplatedthe immutable order of the universe. But when afterwards, returning tohimself, and entering into his own heart, he considered that Astartehad perhaps died for him, the universe vanished from his sight, and hebeheld nothing in the whole compass of nature but Astarte expiring andZadig unhappy. While he thus alternately gave up his mind to this fluxand reflux of sublime philosophy and intolerable grief, he advancedtoward the frontiers of Egypt; and his faithful domestic was already inthe first village, in search of a lodging. 

Upon reaching the village Zadig generously took the part of a womanattacked by her jealous lover. The combat grew so fierce that Zadigslew the lover. The Egyptians were then just and humane. The peopleconducted Zadig to the town house. They first of all ordered his woundto be dressed, and then examined him and his servant apart, in order todiscover the truth. They found that Zadig was not an assassin; but ashe was guilty of having killed a man, the law condemned him to be aslave. His two camels were sold for the benefit of the town; all thegold he had brought with him was distributed among the inhabitants; andhis person, as well as that of the companion of his journey, wasexposed to sale in the marketplace. 

An Arabian merchant, named Setoc, made the purchase; but as the servantwas fitter for labor than the master, he was sold at a higher price. There was no comparison between the two men. Thus Zadig became a slavesubordinate to his own servant. They were linked together by a chainfastened to their feet, and in this condition they followed the Arabianmerchant to his house. 

By the way Zadig comforted his servant, and exhorted him to patience;but he could not help making, according to his usual custom, somereflections on human life. "I see, " said he, "that the unhappiness ofmy fate hath an influence on thine. Hitherto everything has turned outto me in a most unaccountable manner. I have been condemned to pay afine for having seen the marks of a spaniel's feet. I thought that Ishould once have been impaled on account of a griffin. I have been sentto execution for having made some verses in praise of the king. I havebeen upon the point of being strangled because the queen had yellowribbons; and now I am a slave with thee, because a brutal wretch beathis mistress. Come, let us keep a good heart; all this perhaps willhave an end. The Arabian merchants must necessarily have slaves; andwhy not me as well as another, since, as well as another, I am a man?This merchant will not be cruel; he must treat his slaves well, if heexpects any advantage from them. " But while he spoke thus, his heartwas entirely engrossed by the fate of the Queen of Babylon. 

Two days after, the merchant Setoc set out for Arabia Deserta, with hisslaves and his camels. His tribe dwelt near the Desert of Oreb. Thejourney was long and painful. Setoc set a much greater value on theservant than the master, because the former was more expert in loadingthe camels; and all the little marks of distinction were shown to him. A camel having died within two days' journey of Oreb, his burden wasdivided and laid on the backs of the servants; and Zadig had his shareamong the rest. 

Setoc laughed to see all his slaves walking with their bodies inclined. Zadig took the liberty to explain to him the cause, and inform him ofthe laws of the balance. The merchant was astonished, and began toregard him with other eyes. Zadig, finding he had raised his curiosity, increased it still further by acquainting him with many things thatrelated to commerce, the specific gravity of metals, and commoditiesunder an equal bulk; the properties of several useful animals; and themeans of rendering those useful that are not naturally so. At lastSetoc began to consider Zadig as a sage, and preferred him to hiscompanion, whom he had formerly so much esteemed. He treated him welland had no cause to repent of his kindness. 

THE STONE

As soon as Setoc arrived among his own tribe he demanded the payment offive hundred ounces of silver, which he had lent to a Jew in presenceof two witnesses; but as the witnesses were dead, and the debt couldnot be proved, the Hebrew appropriated the merchant's money to himself, and piously thanked God for putting it in his power to cheat anArabian. Setoc imparted this troublesome affair to Zadig, who was nowbecome his counsel. 

"In what place, " said Zadig, "didst thou lend the five hundred ouncesto this infidel?"

"Upon a large stone, " replied the merchant, "that lies near MountOreb. "

"What is the character of thy debtor?" said Zadig. 

"That of a knave, " returned Setoc. 

"But I ask thee whether he is lively or phlegmatic, cautious orimprudent?"

"He is, of all bad payers, " said Setoc, "the most lively fellow I everknew. "

"Well, " resumed Zadig, "allow me to plead thy cause. " In effect Zadig, having summoned the Jew to the tribunal, addressed the judge in thefollowing terms: "Pillow of the throne of equity, I come to demand ofthis man, in the name of my master, five hundred ounces of silver, which he refuses to pay. "

"Hast thou any witnesses?" said the judge. 

"No, they are dead; but there remains a large stone upon which themoney was counted; and if it please thy grandeur to order the stone tobe sought for, I hope that it will bear witness. The Hebrew and I willtarry here till the stone arrives; I will send for it at my master'sexpense. "

"With all my heart, " replied the judge, and immediately applied himselfto the discussion of other affairs. 

When the court was going to break up, the judge said to Zadig, "Well, friend, is not thy stone come yet?"

The Hebrew replied with a smile, "Thy grandeur may stay here till themorrow, and after all not see the stone. It is more than six miles fromhence; and it would require fifteen men to move it. "

"Well, " cried Zadig, "did not I say that the stone would bear witness?Since this man knows where it is, he thereby confesses that it was uponit that the money was counted. " The Hebrew was disconcerted, and wassoon after obliged to confess the truth. The judge ordered him to befastened to the stone, without meat or drink, till he should restorethe five hundred ounces, which were soon after paid. 

The slave Zadig and the stone were held in great repute in Arabia. 

THE FUNERAL PILE

Setoc, charmed with the happy issue of this affair, made his slave hisintimate friend. He had now conceived as great esteem for him as everthe King of Babylon had done; and Zadig was glad that Setoc had nowife. He discovered in his master a good natural disposition, muchprobity of heart, and a great share of good sense; but he was sorry tosee that, according to the ancient custom of Arabia, he adored the hostof heaven; that is, the sun, moon, and stars. He sometimes spoke to himon this subject with great prudence and discretion. At last he told himthat these bodies were like all other bodies in the universe, and nomore deserving of our homage than a tree or a rock. 

"But, " said Setoc, "they are eternal beings; and it is from them wederive all we enjoy. They animate nature; they regulate the seasons;and, besides, are removed at such an immense distance from us that wecannot help revering them. "

"Thou receivest more advantage, " replied Zadig, "from the waters of theRed Sea, which carry thy merchandise to the Indies. Why may not it beas ancient as the stars? and if thou adorest what is placed at adistance from thee, thou oughtest to adore the land of the Gangarides, which lies at the extremity of the earth. "

"No, " said Setoc, "the brightness of the stars command my adoration. "

At night Zadig lighted up a great number of candles in the tent wherehe was to sup with Setoc; and the moment his patron appeared, he fellon his knees before these lighted tapers, and said, "Eternal andshining luminaries! be ye always propitious to me. " Having thus said, he sat down at table, without taking the least notice of Setoc. 

"What art thou doing?" said Setoc to him in amaze. 

"I act like thee, " replied Zadig, "I adore these candles, and neglecttheir master and mine. " Setoc comprehended the profound sense of thisapologue. The wisdom of his slave sunk deep into his soul; he no longeroffered incense to the creatures, but adored the eternal Being who madethem. 

There prevailed at that time in Arabia a shocking custom, sprungoriginally from Scythia, and which, being established in the Indies bythe credit of the Brahmans, threatened to overrun all the East. When amarried man died, and his beloved wife aspired to the character of asaint, she burned herself publicly on the body of her husband. This wasa solemn feast and was called the Funeral Pile of Widowhood, and thattribe in which most women had been burned was the most respected. 

An Arabian of Setoc's tribe being dead, his widow, whose name wasAlmona, and who was very devout, published the day and hour when sheintended to throw herself into the fire, amidst the sound of drums andtrumpets. Zadig remonstrated against this horrible custom; he showedSetoc how inconsistent it was with the happiness of mankind to sufferyoung widows to burn themselves every other day, widows who werecapable of giving children to the state, or at least of educating thosethey already had; and he convinced him that it was his duty to do allthat lay in his power to abolish such a barbarous practice. 

"The women, " said Setoc, "have possessed the right of burningthemselves for more than a thousand years; and who shall dare toabrogate a law which time hath rendered sacred? Is there anything morerespectable than ancient abuses?"

"Reason is more ancient, " replied Zadig; "meanwhile, speak thou to thechiefs of the tribes and I will go to wait on the young widow. "

Accordingly he was introduced to her; and, after having insinuatedhimself into her good graces by some compliments on her beauty and toldher what a pity it was to commit so many charms to the flames, he atlast praised her for her constancy and courage. "Thou must surely haveloved thy husband, " said he to her, "with the most passionatefondness. "

"Who, I?" replied the lady. "I loved him not at all. He was a brutal, jealous, insupportable wretch; but I am firmly resolved to throw myselfon his funeral pile. "

"It would appear then, " said Zadig, "that there must be a verydelicious pleasure in being burned alive. "

"Oh! it makes nature shudder, " replied the lady, "but that must beoverlooked. I am a devotee, and I should lose my reputation and all theworld would despise me if I did not burn myself. " Zadig having made heracknowledge that she burned herself to gain the good opinion of othersand to gratify her own vanity, entertained her with a long discourse, calculated to make her a little in love with life, and even went so faras to inspire her with some degree of good will for the person whospoke to her. 

"Alas!" said the lady, "I believe I should desire thee to marry me. "

Zadig's mind was too much engrossed with the idea of Astarte not toelude this declaration; but he instantly went to the chiefs of thetribes, told them what had passed, and advised them to make a law, bywhich a widow should not be permitted to burn herself till she hadconversed privately with a young man for the space of an hour. Sincethat time not a single woman hath burned herself in Arabia. They wereindebted to Zadig alone for destroying in one day a cruel custom thathad lasted for so many ages and thus he became the benefactor ofArabia. 

THE SUPPER

Setoc, who could not separate himself from this man, in whom dweltwisdom, carried him to the great fair of Balzora, whither the richestmerchants in the earth resorted. Zadig was highly pleased to see somany men of different countries united in the same place. He consideredthe whole universe as one large family assembled at Balzora. 

Setoc, after having sold his commodities at a very high price, returnedto his own tribe with his friend Zadig; who learned, upon his arrival, that he had been tried in his absence, and was now going to be burnedby a slow fire. Only the friendship of Almona saved his life. Like somany pretty women, she possessed great influence with the priesthood. Zadig thought it best to leave Arabia. 

Setoc was so charmed with the ingenuity and address of Almona that hemade her his wife. Zadig departed, after having thrown himself at thefeet of his fair deliverer. Setoc and he took leave of each other withtears in their eyes, swearing an eternal friendship, and promising thatthe first of them that should acquire a large fortune should share itwith the other. 

Zadig directed his course along the frontiers of Assyria, still musingon the unhappy Astarte, and reflecting on the severity of fortune whichseemed determined to make him the sport of her cruelty and the objectof her persecution. "What, " said he to himself, "four hundred ounces ofgold for having seen a spaniel! condemned to lose my head for four badverses in praise of the king! ready to be strangled because the queenhad shoes of the color of my bonnet! reduced to slavery for havingsuccored a woman who was beat! and on the point of being burned forhaving saved the lives of all the young widows of Arabia!"

THE ROBBER

Arriving on the frontiers which divide Arabia Petræa from Syria, hepassed by a pretty strong castle, from which a party of armed Arabianssallied forth. They instantly surrounded him and cried, "All thou hastbelongs to us, and thy person is the property of our master. " Zadigreplied by drawing his sword; his servant, who was a man of courage, did the same. They killed the first Arabians that presumed to lay handson them; and, though the number was redoubled, they were not dismayed, but resolved to perish in the conflict. Two men defended themselvesagainst a multitude; and such a combat could not last long. 

The master of the castle, whose name was Arbogad, having observed froma window the prodigies of valor performed by Zadig, conceived a highesteem for this heroic stranger. He descended in haste and went inperson to call off his men and deliver the two travelers. 

"All that passes over my lands, " said he, "belongs to me, as well aswhat I find upon the lands of others; but thou seemest to be a man ofsuch undaunted courage that I will exempt thee from the common law. " Hethen conducted him to his castle, ordering his men to treat him well;and in the evening Arbogad supped with Zadig. 

The lord of the castle was one of those Arabians who are commonlycalled robbers; but he now and then performed some good actions amid amultitude of bad ones. He robbed with a furious rapacity, and grantedfavors with great generosity; he was intrepid in action; affable incompany; a debauchee at table, but gay in debauchery; and particularlyremarkable for his frank and open behavior. He was highly pleased withZadig, whose lively conversation lengthened the repast. 

At last Arbogad said to him: "I advise thee to enroll thy name in mycatalogue; thou canst not do better; this is not a bad trade; and thoumayest one day become what I am at present. "

"May I take the liberty of asking thee, " said Zadig, "how long thouhast followed this noble profession?"

"From my most tender youth, " replied the lord. "I was a servant to apretty good-natured Arabian, but could not endure the hardships of mysituation. I was vexed to find that fate had given me no share of theearth, which equally belongs to all men. I imparted the cause of myuneasiness to an old Arabian, who said to me: 'My son, do not despair;there was once a grain of sand that lamented that it was no more than aneglected atom in the deserts; at the end of a few years it became adiamond; and is now the brightest ornament in the crown of the king ofthe Indies. ' This discourse made a deep impression on my mind. I wasthe grain of sand, and I resolved to become the diamond. I began bystealing two horses; I soon got a party of companions; I put myself ina condition to rob small caravans; and thus, by degrees, I destroyedthe difference which had formerly subsisted between me and other men. Ihad my share of the good things of this world; and was even recompensedwith usury for the hardships I had suffered. I was greatly respected, and became the captain of a band of robbers. I seized this castle byforce. The Satrap of Syria had a mind to dispossess me of it; but I wastoo rich to have anything to fear. I gave the satrap a handsomepresent, by which means I preserved my castle and increased mypossessions. He even appointed me treasurer of the tributes whichArabia Petræa pays to the king of kings. I perform my office ofreceiver with great punctuality; but take the freedom to dispense withthat of paymaster. 

"The grand Desterham of Babylon sent hither a pretty satrap in the nameof King Moabdar, to have me strangled. This man arrived with hisorders: I was apprised of all; I caused to be strangled in his presencethe four persons he had brought with him to draw the noose; after whichI asked him how much his commission of strangling me might be worth. Hereplied, that his fees would amount to above three hundred pieces ofgold. I then convinced him that he might gain more by staying with me. I made him an inferior robber; and he is now one of my best and richestofficers. If thou wilt take my advice thy success may be equal to his;never was there a better season for plunder, since King Moabdar iskilled, and all Babylon thrown into confusion. "

"Moabdar killed!" said Zadig, "and what is become of Queen Astarte?"

"I know not, " replied Arbogad. "All I know is, that Moabdar lost hissenses and was killed; that Babylon is a scene of disorder andbloodshed; that all the empire is desolated; that there are some finestrokes to be struck yet; and that, for my own part, I have struck somethat are admirable. "

"But the queen, " said Zadig; "for heaven's sake, knowest thou nothingof the queen's fate?"

"Yes, " replied he, "I have heard something of a prince of Hircania; ifshe was not killed in the tumult, she is probably one of hisconcubines; but I am much fonder of booty than news. I have takenseveral women in my excursions; but I keep none of them. I sell them ata high price, when they are beautiful, without inquiring who they are. In commodities of this kind rank makes no difference, and a queen thatis ugly will never find a merchant. Perhaps I may have sold QueenAstarte; perhaps she is dead; but, be it as it will, it is of littleconsequence to me, and I should imagine of as little to thee. " Sosaying he drank a large draught which threw all his ideas into suchconfusion that Zadig could obtain no further information. 

Zadig remained for some time without speech, sense, or motion. Arbogadcontinued drinking; told stories; constantly repeated that he was thehappiest man in the world; and exhorted Zadig to put himself in thesame condition. At last the soporiferous fumes of the wine lulled himinto a gentle repose. 

Zadig passed the night in the most violent perturbation. "What, " saidhe, "did the king lose his senses? and is he killed? I cannot helplamenting his fate. The empire is rent in pieces; and this robber ishappy. O fortune! O destiny! A robber is happy, and the most beautifulof nature's works hath perhaps perished in a barbarous manner or livesin a state worse than death. O Astarte! what is become of thee?"

At daybreak he questioned all those he met in the castle; but they wereall busy, and he received no answer. During the night they had made anew capture, and they were now employed in dividing the spoils. All hecould obtain in this hurry and confusion was an opportunity ofdeparting, which he immediately embraced, plunged deeper than ever inthe most gloomy and mournful reflections. 

Zadig proceeded on his journey with a mind full of disquiet andperplexity, and wholly employed on the unhappy Astarte, on the King ofBabylon, on his faithful friend Cador, on the happy robber Arbogad; ina word, on all the misfortunes and disappointments he had hithertosuffered. 

THE FISHERMAN

At a few leagues' distance from Arbogad's castle he came to the banksof a small river, still deploring his fate, and considering himself asthe most wretched of mankind. He saw a fisherman lying on the brink ofthe river, scarcely holding, in his weak and feeble hand, a net whichhe seemed ready to drop, and lifting up his eyes to Heaven. 

"I am certainly, " said the fisherman, "the most unhappy man in theworld. I was universally allowed to be the most famous dealer in creamcheese in Babylon, and yet I am ruined. I had the most handsome wifethat any man in my station could have; and by her I have been betrayed. I had still left a paltry house, and that I have seen pillaged anddestroyed. At last I took refuge in this cottage, where I have no otherresource than fishing, and yet I cannot catch a single fish. Oh, mynet! no more will I throw thee into the water; I will throw myself inthy place. " So saying, he arose and advanced forward in the attitude ofa man ready to throw himself into the river, and thus to finish hislife. 

"What!" said Zadig to himself, "are there men as wretched as I?" Hiseagerness to save the fisherman's life was as this reflection. He ranto him, stopped him, and spoke to him with a tender and compassionateair. It is commonly supposed that we are less miserable when we havecompanions in our misery. This, according to Zoroaster, does notproceed from malice, but necessity. We feel ourselves insensibly drawnto an unhappy person as to one like ourselves. The joy of the happywould be an insult; but two men in distress are like two slender trees, which, mutually supporting each other, fortify themselves against thestorm. 

"Why, " said Zadig to the fisherman, "dost thou sink under thymisfortunes?"

"Because, " replied he, "I see no means of relief. I was the mostconsiderable man in the village of Derlback, near Babylon, and with theassistance of my wife I made the best cream cheese in the empire. QueenAstarte and the famous minister Zadig were extremely fond of them. "

Zadig, transported, said, "What, knowest thou nothing of the queen'sfate?"

"No, my lord, " replied the fisherman; "but I know that neither thequeen nor Zadig has paid me for my cream cheeses; that I have lost mywife, and am now reduced to despair. "

"I flatter myself, " said Zadig, "that thou wilt not lose all thy money. I have heard of this Zadig; he is an honest man; and if he returns toBabylon, as he expects, he will give thee more than he owes thee. Believe me, go to Babylon. I shall be there before thee, because I amon horseback, and thou art on foot. Apply to the illustrious Cador;tell him thou hast met his friend; wait for me at his house; go, perhaps thou wilt not always be unhappy. 

"O powerful Oromazes!" continued he, "thou employest me to comfort thisman; whom wilt thou employ to give me consolation?" So saying, he gavethe fisherman half the money he had brought from Arabia. The fisherman, struck with surprise and ravished with joy, kissed the feet of thefriend of Cador, and said, "Thou are surely an angel sent from Heavento save me!"

Meanwhile, Zadig continued to make fresh inquiries, and to shed tears. "What, my lord!" cried the fisherman, "art thou then so unhappy, thouwho bestowest favors?"

"An hundred times more unhappy than thou art, " replied Zadig. 

"But how is it possible, " said the good man, "that the giver can bemore wretched than the receiver?"

"Because, " replied Zadig, "thy greatest misery arose from poverty, andmine is seated in the heart. "

"Did Orcan take thy wife from thee?" said the fisherman. 

This word recalled to Zadig's mind the whole of his adventures. Herepeated the catalogue of his misfortunes, beginning with the queen'sspaniel, and ending with his arrival at the castle of the robberArbogad. "Ah!" said he to the fisherman, "Orcan deserves to bepunished; but it is commonly such men as those that are the favoritesof fortune. However, go thou to the house of Lord Cador, and there waitmy arrival. " They then parted, the fisherman walked, thanking Heavenfor the happiness of his condition; and Zadig rode, accusing fortunefor the hardness of his lot. 

THE BASILISK

Arriving in a beautiful meadow, he there saw several women, who weresearching for something with great application. He took the liberty toapproach one of them, and to ask if he might have the honor to assistthem in their search. "Take care that thou dost not, " replied theSyrian; "what we are searching for can be touched only by women. "

"Strange, " said Zadig, "may I presume to ask thee what it is that womenonly are permitted to touch?"

"It is a basilisk, " said she. 

"A basilisk, madam! and for what purpose, pray, dost thou seek for abasilisk?"

"It is for our lord and master Ogul, whose cattle thou seest on thebank of that river at the end of the meadow. We are his most humbleslaves. The lord Ogul is sick. His physician hath ordered him to eat abasilisk, stewed in rose water; and as it is a very rare animal, andcan only be taken by women, the lord Ogul hath promised to choose forhis well-beloved wife the woman that shall bring him a basilisk; let mego on in my search; for thou seest what I shall lose if I am preventedby my companions. "

Zadig left her and the other Assyrians to search for their basilisk, and continued to walk in the meadow; when coming to the brink of asmall rivulet, he found another lady lying on the grass, and who wasnot searching for anything. Her person seemed to be majestic; but herface was covered with a veil. She was inclined toward the rivulet, andprofound sighs proceeded from her mouth. In her hand she held a smallrod with which she was tracing characters on the fine sand that laybetween the turf and the brook. Zadig had the curiosity to examine whatthis woman was writing. He drew near; he saw the letter Z, then an A;he was astonished; then appeared a D; he started. But never wassurprise equal to his when he saw the two last letters of his name. 

He stood for some time immovable. At last, breaking silence with afaltering voice: "O generous lady! pardon a stranger, an unfortunateman, for presuming to ask thee by what surprising adventure I here findthe name of Zadig traced out by thy divine hand!"

At this voice, and these words, the lady lifted up the veil with atrembling hand, looked at Zadig, sent forth a cry of tenderness, surprise and joy, and sinking under the various emotions which at onceassaulted her soul, fell speechless into his arms. It was Astarteherself; it was the Queen of Babylon; it was she whom Zadig adored, andwhom he had reproached himself for adoring; it was she whosemisfortunes he had so deeply lamented, and for whose fate he had beenso anxiously concerned. 

He was for a moment deprived of the use of his senses, when he hadfixed his eyes on those of Astarte, which now began to open again witha languor mixed with confusion and tenderness: "O ye immortal powers!"cried he, "who preside over the fates of weak mortals, do ye indeedrestore Astarte to me! at what a time, in what a place, and in what acondition do I again behold her!" He fell on his knees before Astarte, and laid his face in the dust at her feet. The Queen of Babylon raisedhim up, and made him sit by her side on the brink of the rivulet. Shefrequently wiped her eyes, from which the tears continued to flowafresh. She twenty times resumed her discourse, which her sighs asoften interrupted; she asked by what strange accident they were broughttogether, and suddenly prevented his answers by other questions; shewaived the account of her own misfortunes, and desired to be informedof those of Zadig. 

At last, both of them having a little composed the tumult of theirsouls, Zadig acquainted her in a few words by what adventure he wasbrought into that meadow. "But, O unhappy and respectable queen! bywhat means do I find thee in this lonely place, clothed in the habit ofa slave, and accompanied by other female slaves, who are searching fora basilisk, which, by order of the physician, is to be stewed in rosewater?"

"While they are searching for their basilisk, " said the fair Astarte, "I will inform thee of all I have suffered, for which Heaven hassufficiently recompensed me by restoring thee to my sight. Thou knowestthat the king, my husband, was vexed to see thee the most amiable ofmankind; and that for this reason he one night resolved to stranglethee and poison me. Thou knowest how Heaven permitted my little mute toinform me of the orders of his sublime majesty. Hardly had the faithfulCador advised thee to depart, in obedience to my command, when heventured to enter my apartment at midnight by a secret passage. Hecarried me off and conducted me to the temple of Oromazes, where themagi his brother shut me up in that huge statue whose base reaches tothe foundation of the temple and whose top rises to the summit of thedome. I was there buried in a manner; but was saved by the magi; andsupplied with all the necessaries of life. At break of day hismajesty's apothecary entered my chamber with a potion composed of amixture of henbane, opium, hemlock, black hellebore, and aconite; andanother officer went to thine with a bowstring of blue silk. Neither ofus was to be found. Cador, the better to deceive the king, pretended tocome and accuse us both. He said that thou hadst taken the road to theIndies, and I that to Memphis, on which the king's guards wereimmediately dispatched in pursuit of us both. 

"The couriers who pursued me did not know me. I had hardly ever shownmy face to any but thee, and to thee only in the presence and by theorder of my husband. They conducted themselves in the pursuit by thedescription that had been given them of my person. On the frontiers ofEgypt they met with a woman of the same stature with me, and possessedperhaps of greater charms. She was weeping and wandering. They made nodoubt but that this woman was the Queen of Babylon and accordinglybrought her to Moabdar. Their mistake at first threw the king into aviolent passion; but having viewed this woman more attentively, hefound her extremely handsome and was comforted. She was called Missouf. I have since been informed that this name in the Egyptian languagesignifies the capricious fair one. She was so in reality; but she hadas much cunning as caprice. She pleased Moabdar and gained such anascendancy over him as to make him choose her for his wife. Hercharacter then began to appear in its true colors. She gave herself up, without scruple, to all the freaks of a wanton imagination. She wouldhave obliged the chief of the magi, who was old and gouty, to dancebefore her; and on his refusal, she persecuted him with the mostunrelenting cruelty. She ordered her master of the horse to make her apie of sweetmeats. In vain did he represent that he was not apastry-cook; he was obliged to make it, and lost his place, because itwas baked a little too hard. The post of master of the horse she gaveto her dwarf, and that of chancellor to her page. In this manner didshe govern Babylon. Everybody regretted the loss of me. The king, whotill the moment of his resolving to poison me and strangle thee, hadbeen a tolerably good kind of man, seemed now to have drowned all hisvirtues in his immoderate fondness for this capricious fair one. Hecame to the temple on the great day of the feast held in honor of thesacred fire. I saw him implore the gods in behalf of Missouf, at thefeet of the statue in which I was inclosed. I raised my voice, I criedout, 'The gods reject the prayers of a king who is now become a tyrant, and who attempted to murder a reasonable wife, in order to marry awoman remarkable for nothing but her folly and extravagance. ' At thesewords Moabdar was confounded and his head became disordered. The oracleI had pronounced, and the tyranny of Missouf, conspired to deprive himof his judgment, and in a few days his reason entirely forsook him. 

"Moabdar's madness, which seemed to be the judgment of Heaven, was thesignal to a revolt. The people rose and ran to arms; and Babylon, whichhad been so long immersed in idleness and effeminacy, became thetheater of a bloody civil war. I was taken from the heart of my statueand placed at the head of a party. Cador flew to Memphis to bring theeback to Babylon. The Prince of Hircania, informed of these fatalevents, returned with his army and made a third party in Chaldea. Heattacked the king, who fled before him with his capricious Egyptian. Moabdar died pierced with wounds. I myself had the misfortune to betaken by a party of Hircanians, who conducted me to their prince'stent, at the very moment that Missouf was brought before him. Thou wiltdoubtless be pleased to hear that the prince thought me beautiful; butthou wilt be sorry to be informed that he designed me for his seraglio. He told me, with a blunt and resolute air, that as soon as he hadfinished a military expedition, which he was just going to undertake, he would come to me. Judge how great must have been my grief. My tieswith Moabdar were already dissolved; I might have been the wife ofZadig; and I was fallen into the hands of a barbarian. I answered himwith all the pride which my high rank and noble sentiment couldinspire. I had always heard it affirmed that Heaven stamped on personsof my condition a mark of grandeur, which, with a single word orglance, could reduce to the lawliness of the most profound respectthose rash and forward persons who presume to deviate from the rules ofpoliteness. I spoke like a queen, but was treated like a maidservant. The Hircanian, without even deigning to speak to me, told his blackeunuch that I was impertinent, but that he thought me handsome. Heordered him to take care of me, and to put me under the regimen offavorites, that so my complexion being improved, I might be the moreworthy of his favors when he should be at leisure to honor me withthem. I told him that rather than submit to his desires I would put anend to my life. He replied, with a smile, that women, he believed, werenot so bloodthirsty, and that he was accustomed to such violentexpressions; and then left me with the air of a man who had just putanother parrot into his aviary. What a state for the first queen of theuniverse, and, what is more, for a heart devoted to Zadig!"

At these words Zadig threw himself at her feet and bathed them with histears. Astarte raised him with great tenderness and thus continued herstory: "I now saw myself in the power of a barbarian and rival to thefoolish woman with whom I was confined. She gave me an account of heradventures in Egypt. From the description she gave me of your person, from the time, from the dromedary on which you were mounted, and fromevery other circumstance, I inferred that Zadig was the man who hadfought for her. I doubted not but that you were at Memphis, and, therefore, resolved to repair thither. Beautiful Missouf, said I, thouart more handsome than I, and will please the Prince of Hircania muchbetter. Assist me in contriving the means of my escape; thou wilt thenreign alone; thou wilt at once make me happy and rid thyself of arival. Missouf concerted with me the means of my flight; and I departedsecretly with a female Egyptian slave. 

"As I approached the frontiers of Arabia, a famous robber, namedArbogad, seized me and sold me to some merchants, who brought me tothis castle, where Lord Ogul resides. He bought me without knowing whoI was. He is a voluptuary, ambitious of nothing but good living, andthinks that God sent him into the world for no other purpose than tosit at table. He is so extremely corpulent that he is always in dangerof suffocation. His physician, who has but little credit with him whenhe has a good digestion, governs him with a despotic sway when he hasate too much. He has persuaded him that a basilisk stewed in rose waterwill effect a complete cure. The Lord Ogul hath promised his hand tothe female slave that brings him a basilisk. Thou seest that I leavethem to vie with each other in meriting this honor; and never was Iless desirous of finding the basilisk than since Heaven hath restoredthee to my sight. "

This account was succeeded by a long conversation between Astarte andZadig, consisting of everything that their long-suppressed sentiments, their great sufferings, and their mutual love could inspire into heartsthe most noble and tender; and the genii who preside over love carriedtheir words to the sphere of Venus. 

The women returned to Ogul without having found the basilisk. Zadig wasintroduced to this mighty lord and spoke to him in the following terms:"May immortal health descend from heaven to bless all thy days! I am aphysician; at the first report of thy indisposition I flew to thycastle and have now brought thee a basilisk stewed in rose water. Notthat I pretend to marry thee. All I ask is the liberty of a Babylonianslave, who hath been in thy possession for a few days; and, if I shouldnot be so happy as to cure thee, magnificent Lord Ogul, I consent toremain a slave in her place. "

The proposal was accepted. Astarte set out for Babylon with Zadig'sservant, promising, immediately upon her arrival, to send a courier toinform him of all that had happened. Their parting was as tender astheir meeting. The moment of meeting and that of parting are the twogreatest epochs of life, as sayeth the great book of Zend. Zadig lovedthe queen with as much ardor as he professed; and the queen more thanshe thought proper to acknowledge. 

Meanwhile Zadig spoke thus to Ogul: "My lord, my basilisk is not to beeaten; all its virtues must enter through thy pores. I have inclosed itin a little ball, blown up and covered with a fine skin. Thou muststrike this ball with all thy might and I must strike it back for aconsiderable time; and by observing this regimen for a few days thouwilt see the effects of my art. " The first day Ogul was out of breathand thought he should have died with fatigue. The second he was lessfatigued, slept better. In eight days he recovered all the strength, all the health, all the agility and cheerfulness of his most agreeableyears. 

"Thou hast played at ball, and thou hast been temperate, " said Zadig;"know that there is no such thing in nature as a basilisk; thattemperance and exercise are the two great preservatives of health; andthat the art of reconciling intemperance and health is as chimerical asthe philosopher's stone, judicial astrology, or the theology of themagi. "

Ogul's first physician, observing how dangerous this man might prove tothe medical art, formed a design, in conjunction with the apothecary, to send Zadig to search for a basilisk in the other world. Thus, havingsuffered such a long train of calamities on account of his goodactions, he was now upon the point of losing his life for curing agluttonous lord. He was invited to an excellent dinner and was to havebeen poisoned in the second course, but, during the first, he happilyreceived a courier from the fair Astarte. "When one is beloved by abeautiful woman, " says the great Zoroaster, "he hath always the goodfortune to extricate himself out of every kind of difficulty anddanger. "

THE COMBATS

The queen was received at Babylon with all those transports of joywhich are ever felt on the return of a beautiful princess who hath beeninvolved in calamities. Babylon was now in greater tranquillity. ThePrince of Hircania had been killed in battle. The victoriousBabylonians declared that the queen should marry the man whom theyshould choose for their sovereign. They were resolved that the firstplace in the world, that of being husband to Astarte and King ofBabylon, should not depend on cabals and intrigues. They swore toacknowledge for king the man who, upon trial, should be found to bepossessed of the greatest valor and the greatest wisdom. Accordingly, at the distance of a few leagues from the city, a spacious place wasmarked out for the list, surrounded with magnificent amphitheaters. Thither the combatants were to repair in complete armor. Each of themhad a separate apartment behind the amphitheaters, where they wereneither to be seen nor known by anyone. Each was to encounter fourknights, and those that were so happy as to conquer four were then toengage with one another; so that he who remained the last master of thefield would be proclaimed conqueror at the games. 

Four days after he was to return with the same arms and to explain theenigmas proposed by the magi. If he did not explain the enigmas he wasnot king; and the running at the lances was to be begun afresh till aman would be found who was conqueror in both these combats; for theywere absolutely determined to have a king possessed of the greatestwisdom and the most invincible courage. The queen was all the while tobe strictly guarded: she was only allowed to be present at the games, and even there she was to be covered with a veil; but was not permittedto speak to any of the competitors, that so they might neither receivefavor, nor suffer injustice. 

These particulars Astarte communicated to her lover, hoping that inorder to obtain her he would show himself possessed of greater courageand wisdom than any other person. Zadig set out on his journey, beseeching Venus to fortify his courage and enlighten hisunderstanding. He arrived on the banks of the Euphrates on the eve ofthis great day. He caused his device to be inscribed among those of thecombatants, concealing his face and his name, as the law ordained; andthen went to repose himself in the apartment that fell to him by lot. His friend Cador, who, after the fruitless search he had made for himin Egypt, was now returned to Babylon, sent to his tent a complete suitof armor, which was a present from the queen; as also, from himself, one of the finest horses in Persia. Zadig presently perceived thatthese presents were sent by Astarte; and from thence his couragederived fresh strength, and his love the most animating hopes. 

Next day, the queen being seated under a canopy of jewels, and theamphitheaters filled with all the gentlemen and ladies of rank inBabylon, the combatants appeared in the circus. Each of them came andlaid his device at the feet of the grand magi. They drew their devicesby lot; and that of Zadig was the last. The first who advanced was acertain lord, named Itobad, very rich and very vain, but possessed oflittle courage, of less address, and hardly of any judgment at all. Hisservants had persuaded him that such a man as he ought to be king; hehad said in reply, "Such a man as I ought to reign"; and thus they hadarmed him for a cap-a-pie. He wore an armor of gold enameled withgreen, a plume of green feathers, and a lance adorned with greenribbons. It was instantly perceived by the manner in which Itobadmanaged his horse, that it was not for such a man as he that Heavenreserved the scepter of Babylon. The first knight that ran against himthrew him out of his saddle; the second laid him flat on his horse'sbuttocks, with his legs in the air, and his arms extended. Itobadrecovered himself, but with so bad a grace that the whole amphitheaterburst out a-laughing. The third knight disdained to make use of hislance; but, making a pass at him, took him by the right leg and, wheeling him half round, laid him prostrate on the sand. The squires ofthe game ran to him laughing, and replaced him in his saddle. Thefourth combatant took him by the left leg, and tumbled him down on theother side. He was conducted back with scornful shouts to his tent, where, according to the law, he was to pass the night; and as he limpedalong with great difficulty he said, "What an adventure for such a manas I!"

The other knights acquitted themselves with greater ability andsuccess. Some of them conquered two combatants; a few of themvanquished three; but none but Prince Otamus conquered four. At lastZadig fought him in his turn. He successively threw four knights offtheir saddles with all the grace imaginable. It then remained to beseen who should be conqueror, Otamus or Zadig. The arms of the firstwere gold and blue, with a plume of the same color; those of the lastwere white. The wishes of all the spectators were divided between theknight in blue and the knight in white. The queen, whose heart was in aviolent palpitation, offered prayers to Heaven for the success of thewhite color. 

The two champions made their passes and vaults with so much agility, they mutually gave and received such dexterous blows with their lances, and sat so firmly in their saddles, that everybody but the queen wishedthere might be two kings in Babylon. At length, their horses beingtired and their lances broken, Zadig had recourse to this stratagem: Hepasses behind the blue prince; springs upon the buttocks of his horse;seizes him by the middle; throws him on the earth; places himself inthe saddle; and wheels around Otamus as he lay extended on the ground. All the amphitheater cried out, "Victory to the white knight!"

Otamus rises in a violent passion, and draws his sword; Zadig leapsfrom his horse with his saber in his hand. Both of them are now on theground, engaged in a new combat, where strength and agility triumph byturns. The plumes of their helmets, the studs of their bracelets, therings of their armor, are driven to a great distance by the violence ofa thousand furious blows. They strike with the point and the edge; tothe right, to the left, on the head, on the breast; they retreat; theyadvance; they measure swords; they close; they seize each other; theybend like serpents; they attack like lions; and the fire every momentflashes from their blows. 

At last Zadig, having recovered his spirits, stops; makes a feint;leaps upon Otamus; throws him on the ground and disarms him; and Otamuscries out, "It is thou alone, O white knight, that oughtest to reignover Babylon!" The queen was now at the height of her joy. The knightin blue armor and the knight in white were conducted each to his ownapartment, as well as all the others, according to the intention of thelaw. Mutes came to wait upon them and to serve them at table. It may beeasily supposed that the queen's little mute waited upon Zadig. Theywere then left to themselves to enjoy the sweets of repose till nextmorning, at which time the conqueror was to bring his device to thegrand magi, to compare it with that which he had left, and make himselfknown. 

Zadig, though deeply in love, was so much fatigued that he could nothelp sleeping. Itobad, who lay near him, never closed his eyes. Hearose in the night, entered his apartment, took the white arms and thedevice of Zadig, and put his green armor in their place. At break ofday he went boldly to the grand magi to declare that so great a man ashe was conqueror. This was little expected; however, he was proclaimedwhile Zadig was still asleep. Astarte, surprised and filled withdespair, returned to Babylon. The amphitheater was almost empty whenZadig awoke; he sought for his arms, but could find none but the greenarmor. With this he was obliged to cover himself, having nothing elsenear him. Astonished and enraged, he put it on in a furious passion, and advanced in this equipage. 

The people that still remained in the amphitheater and the circusreceived him with hoots and hisses. They surrounded him and insultedhim to his face. Never did man suffer such cruel mortifications. Helost his patience; with his saber he dispersed such of the populace asdared to affront him; but he knew not what course to take. He could notsee the queen; he could not claim the white armor she had sent himwithout exposing her; and thus, while she was plunged in grief, he wasfilled with fury and distraction. He walked on the banks of theEuphrates, fully persuaded that his star had destined him to inevitablemisery, and resolving in his own mind all his misfortunes, from theadventure of the woman who hated one-eyed men to that of his armor. "This, " said he, "is the consequence of my having slept too long. Had Islept less, I should now have been King of Babylon and in possession ofAstarte. Knowledge, virtue, and courage have hitherto served only tomake me miserable. " He then let fall some secret murmurings againstProvidence, and was tempted to believe that the world was governed by acruel destiny, which oppressed the good and prospered knights in greenarmor. One of his greatest mortifications was his being obliged to wearthat green armor which had exposed him to such contumelious treatment. A merchant happening to pass by, he sold it to him for a trifle andbought a gown and a long bonnet. In this garb he proceeded along thebanks of the Euphrates, filled with despair, and secretly accusingProvidence, which thus continued to persecute him with unremittingseverity. 

THE HERMIT

While he was thus sauntering he met a hermit, whose white and venerablebeard hung down to his girdle. He held a book in his hand, which heread with great attention. Zadig stopped, and made him a profoundobeisance. The hermit returned the compliment with such a noble andengaging air, that Zadig had the curiosity to enter into conversationwith him. He asked him what book it was that he had been reading? "Itis the Book of Destinies, " said the hermit; "wouldst thou choose tolook into it?" He put the book into the hands of Zadig, who, thoroughlyversed as he was in several languages, could not decipher a singlecharacter of it. This only redoubled his curiosity. 

"Thou seemest, " said this good father, "to be in great distress. "

"Alas, " replied Zadig, "I have but too much reason. "

"If thou wilt permit me to accompany thee, " resumed the old man, "perhaps I may be of some service to thee. I have often poured the balmof consolation into the bleeding heart of the unhappy. "

Zadig felt himself inspired with respect for the air, the beard, andthe book of the hermit. He found, in the course of the conversation, that he was possessed of superior degrees of knowledge. The hermittalked of fate, of justice, of morals, of the chief good, of humanweakness, and of virtue and vice, with such a spirited and movingeloquence, that Zadig felt himself drawn toward him by an irresistiblecharm. He earnestly entreated the favor of his company till theirreturn to Babylon. 

"I ask the same favor of thee, " said the old man; "swear to me byOromazes, that whatever I do, thou wilt not leave me for some days. "Zadig swore, and they set out together. 

In the evening the two travelers arrived in a superb castle. The hermitentreated a hospitable reception for himself and the young man whoaccompanied him. The porter, whom one might have easily mistaken for agreat lord, introduced them with a kind of disdainful civility. Hepresented them to a principal domestic, who showed them his master'smagnificent apartments. They were admitted to the lower end of thetable, without being honored with the least mark of regard by the lordof the castle; but they were served, like the rest, with delicacy andprofusion. They were then presented with water to wash their hands, ina golden basin adorned with emeralds and rubies. At last they wereconducted to bed in a beautiful apartment; and in the morning adomestic brought each of them a piece of gold, after which they tooktheir leave and departed. 

"The master of the house, " said Zadig, as they were proceeding on thejourney, "appears to be a generous man, though somewhat too proud; henobly performs the duties of hospitality. " At that instant he observedthat a kind of large pocket, which the hermit had, was filled anddistended; and upon looking more narrowly he found that it containedthe golden basin adorned with precious stones, which the hermit hadstolen. He durst not take any notice of it, but he was filled with astrange surprise. 

About noon, the hermit came to the door of a paltry house inhabited bya rich miser, and begged the favor of an hospitable reception for a fewhours. An old servant, in a tattered garb, received them with a bluntand rude air, and led them into the stable, where he gave them somerotten olives, moldy bread, and sour beer. The hermit ate and drankwith as much seeming satisfaction as he had done the evening before;and then addressing himself to the old servant, who watched them both, to prevent their stealing anything, and rudely pressed them to depart, he gave him the two pieces of gold he had received in the morning, andthanked him for his great civility. 

"Pray, " added he, "allow me to speak to thy master. " The servant, filled with astonishment, introduced the two travelers. "Magnificentlord, " said the hermit, "I cannot but return thee my most humble thanksfor the noble manner in which thou hast entertained us. Be pleased toaccept this golden basin as a small mark of my gratitude. " The miserstarted, and was ready to fall backward; but the hermit, without givinghim time to recover from his surprise, instantly departed with hisyoung fellow traveler. 

"Father, " said Zadig, "what is the meaning of all this? Thou seemest tome to be entirely different from other men; thou stealest a goldenbasin adorned with precious stones from a lord who received theemagnificently, and givest it to a miser who treats thee withindignity. "

"Son, " replied the old man, "this magnificent lord, who receivesstrangers only from vanity and ostentation, will hereby be renderedmore wise; and the miser will learn to practice the duties ofhospitality. Be surprised at nothing, but follow me. "

Zadig knew not as yet whether he was in company with the most foolishor the most prudent of mankind; but the hermit spoke with such anascendancy, that Zadig, who was moreover bound by his oath, could notrefuse to follow him. 

In the evening they arrived at a house built with equal elegance andsimplicity, where nothing favored either of prodigality or avarice. Themaster of it was a philosopher, who had retired from the world, and whocultivated in peace the study of virtue and wisdom, without any of thatrigid and morose severity so commonly to be found in men of hischaracter. He had chosen to build this country house, in which hereceived strangers with a generosity free from ostentation. He wenthimself to meet the two travelers, whom he led into a commodiousapartment, where he desired them to repose themselves a little. Soonafter he came and invited them to a decent and well-ordered repastduring which he spoke with great judgment of the last revolutions inBabylon. He seemed to be strongly attached to the queen, and wishedthat Zadig had appeared in the lists to dispute the crown. "But thepeople, " added he, "do not deserve to have such a king as Zadig. "

Zadig blushed, and felt his griefs redoubled. They agreed, in thecourse of the conversation, that the things of this world did notalways answer the wishes of the wise. The hermit still maintained thatthe ways of Providence were inscrutable; and that men were in the wrongto judge of a whole, of which they understood but the smallest part. 

They talked of passions. "Ah, " said Zadig, "how fatal are theireffects!"

"They are in the winds, " replied the hermit, "that swell the sails ofthe ship; it is true, they sometimes sink her, but without them shecould not sail at all. The bile makes us sick and choleric; but withoutbile we could not live. Everything in this world is dangerous, and yeteverything is necessary. "

The conversation turned on pleasure; and the hermit proved that it wasa present bestowed by the deity. "For, " said he, "man cannot givehimself either sensations or ideas; he receives all; and pain andpleasure proceed from a foreign cause as well as his being. "

Zadig was surprised to see a man, who had been guilty of suchextravagant actions, capable of reasoning with so much judgment andpropriety. At last, after a conversation equally entertaining andinstructive, the host led back his two guests to their apartment, blessing Heaven for having sent him two men possessed of so much wisdomand virtue. He offered them money with such an easy and noble air ascould not possibly give any offense. The hermit refused it, and saidthat he must now take his leave of him, as he set out for Babylonbefore it was light. Their parting was tender; Zadig especially felthimself filled with esteem and affection for a man of such an amiablecharacter. 

When he and the hermit were alone in their apartment, they spent a longtime in praising their host. At break of day the old man awakened hiscompanion. "We must now depart, " said he, "but while all the family arestill asleep, I will leave this man a mark of my esteem and affection. "So saying, he took a candle and set fire to the house. 

Zadig, struck with horror, cried aloud, and endeavored to hinder himfrom committing such a barbarous action; but the hermit drew him awayby a superior force, and the house was soon in flames. The hermit, who, with his companion, was already at a considerable distance, looked backto the conflagration with great tranquillity. 

"Thanks be to God, " said he, "the house of my dear host is entirelydestroyed! Happy man!"

At these words Zadig was at once tempted to burst out a-laughing, toreproach the reverend father, to beat him, and to run away. But he didnone of all of these, for still subdued by the powerful ascendancy ofthe hermit, he followed him, in spite of himself, to the next stage. 

This was at the house of a charitable and virtuous widow, who had anephew fourteen years of age, a handsome and promising youth, and heronly hope. She performed the honors of her house as well as she could. Next day, she ordered her nephew to accompany the strangers to abridge, which being lately broken down, was become extremely dangerousin passing. The young man walked before them with great alacrity. Asthey were crossing the bridge, "Come, " said the hermit to the youth, "Imust show my gratitude to thy aunt. " He then took him by the hair andplunged him into the river. The boy sunk, appeared again on the surfaceof the water, and was swallowed up by the current. 

"O monster! O thou most wicked of mankind!" cried Zadig. 

"Thou promisedst to behave with greater patience, " said the hermit, interrupting him. "Know that under the ruins of that house whichProvidence hath set on fire the master hath found an immense treasure. Know that this young man, whose life Providence hath shortened, wouldhave assassinated his aunt in the space of a year, and thee in that oftwo. "

"Who told thee so, barbarian?" cried Zadig; "and though thou hadst readthis event in thy Book of Destinies, art thou permitted to drown ayouth who never did thee any harm?"

While the Babylonian was thus exclaiming, he observed that the old manhad no longer a beard, and that his countenance assumed the featuresand complexion of youth. The hermit's habit disappeared, and fourbeautiful wings covered a majestic body resplendent with light. 

"O sent of heaven! O divine angel!" cried Zadig, humbly prostratinghimself on the ground, " hast thou then descended from the Empyrean toteach a weak mortal to submit to the eternal decrees of Providence?"

"Men, " said the angel Jesrad, "judge of all without knowing anything;and, of all men, thou best deservest to be enlightened. "

Zadig begged to be permitted to speak. "I distrust myself, " said he, "but may I presume to ask the favor of thee to clear up one doubt thatstill remains in my mind? Would it not have been better to havecorrected this youth, and made him virtuous, than to have drowned him?"

"Had he been virtuous, " replied Jesrad, "and enjoyed a longer life, itwould have been his fate to be assassinated himself, together with thewife he would have married, and the child he would have had by her. "

"But why, " said Zadig, "is it necessary that there should be crimes andmisfortunes, and that these misfortunes should fall on the good?"

"The wicked, " replied Jesrad, "are always unhappy; they serve to proveand try the small number of the just that are scattered through theearth; and there is no evil that is not productive of some good. "

"But, " said Zadig, "suppose there were nothing but good and no evil atall. "

"Then, " replied Jesrad, "this earth would be another earth. The chainof events would be ranged in another order and directed by wisdom; butthis other order, which would be perfect, can exist only in the eternalabode of the Supreme Being, to which no evil can approach. The Deityhath created millions of worlds, among which there is not one thatresembles another. This immense variety is the effect of His immensepower. There are not two leaves among the trees of the earth, nor twoglobes in the unlimited expanse of heaven that are exactly similar; andall that thou seest on the little atom in which thou art born, ought tobe in its proper time and place, according to the immutable decree ofHim who comprehends all. Men think that this child who hath justperished is fallen into the water by chance; and that it is by the samechance that this house is burned; but there is no such thing as chance;all is either a trial, or a punishment, or a reward, or a foresight. Remember the fisherman who thought himself the most wretched ofmankind. Oromazes sent thee to change his fate. Cease, then, frailmortal, to dispute against what thou oughtest to adore. "

"But, " said Zadig--as he pronounced the word "But, " the angel took hisflight toward the tenth sphere. Zadig on his knees adored Providence, and submitted. The angel cried to him from on high, "Direct thy coursetoward Babylon. "

THE ENIGMAS

Zadig, entranced, as it were, and like a man about whose head thethunder had burst, walked at random. He entered Babylon on the very daywhen those who had fought at the tournaments were assembled in thegrand vestibule of the palace to explain the enigmas and to answer thequestions of the grand magi. All the knights were already arrived, except the knight in green armor. As soon as Zadig appeared in the citythe people crowded round him; every eye was fixed on him; every mouthblessed him, and every heart wished him the empire. The envious man sawhim pass; he frowned and turned aside. The people conducted him to theplace where the assembly was held. The queen, who was informed of hisarrival, became a prey to the most violent agitations of hope and fear. She was filled with anxiety and apprehension. She could not comprehendwhy Zadig was without arms, nor why Itobad wore the white armor. Aconfused murmur arose at the sight of Zadig. They were equallysurprised and charmed to see him; but none but the knights who hadfought were permitted to appear in the assembly. 

"I have fought as well as the other knights, " said Zadig, "but anotherhere wears my arms; and while I wait for the honor of proving the truthof my assertion, I demand the liberty of presenting myself to explainthe enigmas. " The question was put to the vote, and his reputation forprobity was still so deeply impressed in their minds, that theyadmitted him without scruple. 

The first question proposed by the grand magi was: "What, of all thingsin the world, is the longest and the shortest, the swiftest and theslowest, the most divisible and the most extended, the most neglectedand the most regretted, without which nothing can be done, whichdevours all that is little, and enlivens all that is great?"

Itobad was to speak. He replied that so great a man as he did notunderstand enigmas, and that it was sufficient for him to haveconquered by his strength and valor. Some said that the meaning of theenigmas was Fortune; some, the Earth; and others the Light. Zadig saidthat it was Time. "Nothing, " added he, "is longer, since it is themeasure of eternity; nothing is shorter, since it is insufficient forthe accomplishment of our projects; nothing more slow to him thatexpects, nothing more rapid to him that enjoys; in greatness, itextends to infinity; in smallness, it is infinitely divisible; all menneglect it; all regret the loss of it; nothing can be done without it;it consigns to oblivion whatever is unworthy of being transmitted toposterity, and it immortalizes such actions as are truly great. " Theassembly acknowledged that Zadig was in the right. 

The next question was: "What is the thing which we receive withoutthanks, which we enjoy without knowing how, which we give to otherswhen we know not where we are, and which we lose without perceivingit?"

Everyone gave his own explanation. Zadig alone guessed that it wasLife, and explained all the other enigmas with the same facility. Itobad always said that nothing was more easy, and that he could haveanswered them with the same readiness had he chosen to have givenhimself the trouble. Questions were then proposed on justice, on thesovereign good, and on the art of government. Zadig's answers werejudged to be the most solid. "What a pity is it, " said they, "that sucha great genius should be so bad a knight!"

"Illustrious lords, " said Zadig, "I have had the honor of conquering inthe tournaments. It is to me that the white armor belongs. Lord Itobadtook possession of it during my sleep. He probably thought that itwould fit him better than the green. I am now ready to prove in yourpresence, with my gown and sword, against all that beautiful whitearmor which he took from me, that it is I who have had the honor ofconquering the brave Otamus. "

Itobad accepted the challenge with the greatest confidence. He neverdoubted but what, armed as he was, with a helmet, a cuirass, andbrassarts, he would obtain an easy victory over a champion in a cap andnightgown. Zadig drew his sword, saluting the queen, who looked at himwith a mixture of fear and joy. Itobad drew his without salutinganyone. He rushed upon Zadig, like a man who had nothing to fear; hewas ready to cleave him in two. Zadig knew how to ward off his blows, by opposing the strongest part of his sword to the weakest of that ofhis adversary, in such a manner that Itobad's sword was broken. Uponwhich Zadig, seizing his enemy by the waist, threw him on the ground;and fixing the point of his sword at the breastplate, "Suffer thyselfto be disarmed, " said he, "or thou art a dead man. "

Itobad, always surprised at the disgraces that happened to such a manas he, was obliged to yield to Zadig, who took from him with greatcomposure his magnificent helmet, his superb cuirass, his finebrassarts, his shining cuishes; clothed himself with them, and in thisdress ran to throw himself at the feet of Astarte. Cador easily provedthat the armor belonged to Zadig. He was acknowledged king by theunanimous consent of the whole nation, and especially by that ofAstarte, who, after so many calamities, now tasted the exquisitepleasure of seeing her lover worthy, in the eyes of all the world, tobe her husband. Itobad went home to be called lord in his own house. Zadig was king, and was happy. The queen and Zadig adored Providence. He sent in search of the robber Arbogad, to whom he gave an honorablepost in his army, promising to advance him to the first dignities if hebehaved like a true warrior, and threatening to hang him if he followedthe profession of a robber. 

Setoc, with the fair Almona, was called from the heart of Arabia andplaced at the head of the commerce of Babylon. Cador was preferred anddistinguished according to his great services. He was the friend of theking; and the king was then the only monarch on earth that had afriend. The little mute was not forgotten. 

But neither could the beautiful Semira be comforted for having believedthat Zadig would be blind of an eye; nor did Azora cease to lament herhaving attempted to cut off his nose. Their griefs, however, hesoftened by his presents. The envious man died of rage and shame. Theempire enjoyed peace, glory, and plenty. This was the happiest age ofthe earth; it was governed by love and justice. The people blessedZadig, and Zadig blessed Heaven. 

PEDRO DE ALARÇON

_The Nail_

I

The thing which is most ardently desired by a man who steps into astagecoach, bent upon a long journey, is that his companions may beagreeable, that they may have the same tastes, possibly the same vices, be well educated and know enough not to be too familiar. 

When I opened the door of the coach I felt fearful of encountering anold woman suffering with the asthma, an ugly one who could not bear thesmell of tobacco smoke, one who gets seasick every time she rides in acarriage, and little angels who are continually yelling and screamingfor God knows what. 

Sometimes you may have hoped to have a beautiful woman for a travelingcompanion; for instance, a widow of twenty or thirty years of age (letus say, thirty-six), whose delightful conversation will help you passaway the time. But if you ever had this idea, as a reasonable man youwould quickly dismiss it, for you know that such good fortune does notfall to the lot of the ordinary mortal. These thoughts were in my mindwhen I opened the door of the stagecoach at exactly eleven o'clock on astormy night of the Autumn of 1844. I had ticket No. 2, and I waswondering who No. 1 might be. The ticket agent had assured me that No. 3 had not been sold. 

It was pitch dark within. When I entered I said, "Good evening, " but noanswer came. "The devil!" I said to myself. "Is my traveling companiondeaf, dumb, or asleep?" Then I said in a louder tone: "Good evening, "but no answer came. 

All this time the stagecoach was whirling along, drawn by ten horses. 

I was puzzled. Who was my companion? Was it a man? Was it a woman? Whowas the silent No. 1, and, whoever it might be, why did he or she notreply to my courteous salutation? It would have been well to have lit amatch, but I was not smoking then and had none with me. What should Ido? I concluded to rely upon my sense of feeling, and stretched out myhand to the place where No. 1 should have been, wondering whether Iwould touch a silk dress or an overcoat, but there was nothing there. At that moment a flash of lightning, herald of a quickly approachingstorm, lit up the night, and I perceived that there was no one in thecoach excepting myself. I burst out into a roar of laughter, and yet amoment later I could not help wondering what had become of No. 1. 

A half hour later we arrived at the first stop, and I was just about toask the guard who flashed his lantern into the compartment why therewas no No. 1, when she entered. In the yellow rays I thought it was avision: a pale, graceful, beautiful woman, dressed in deep mourning. 

Here was the fulfillment of my dream, the widow I had hoped for. 

I extended my hand to the unknown to assist her into the coach, and shesat down beside me, murmuring: "Thank you, sir. Good evening, " but in atone that was so sad that it went to my very heart. 

"How unfortunate, " I thought. "There are only fifty miles between hereand Malaga. I wish to heaven this coach were going to Kamschatka. " Theguard slammed the door, and we were in darkness. I wished that thestorm would continue and that we might have a few more flashes oflightning. But the storm didn't. It fled away, leaving only a fewpallid stars, whose light practically amounted to nothing. I made abrave effort to start a conversation. 

"Do you feel well?"

"Are you going to Malaga?"

"Did you like the Alhambra?"

"You come from Granada?"

"Isn't the night damp?"

To which questions she respectively responded:

"Thanks, very well. "

"Yes. "

"No, sir. "

"Yes!"

"Awful!"

It was quite certain that my traveling companion was not inclined toconversation. I tried to think up something original to say to her, butnothing occurred to me, so I lost myself for the moment in meditation. Why had this woman gotten on the stage at the first stop instead of atGranada? Why was she alone? Was she married? Was she really a widow?Why was she so sad? I certainly had no right to ask her any of thesequestions, and yet she interested me. How I wished the sun would rise. In the daytime one may talk freely, but in the pitch darkness one feelsa certain oppression, it seems like taking an unfair advantage. 

My unknown did not sleep a moment during the night. I could tell thisby her breathing and by her sighing. It is probably unnecessary to addthat I did not sleep either. Once I asked her: "Do you feel ill?" andshe replied: "No, sir, thank you. I beg pardon if I have disturbed yoursleep. "

"Sleep!" I exclaimed disdainfully. "I do not care to sleep. I fearedyou were suffering. "

"Oh, no, " she exclaimed, in a voice that contradicted her words, "I amnot suffering. "

At last the sun rose. How beautiful she was! I mean the woman, not thesun. What deep suffering had lined her face and lurked in the depths ofher beautiful eyes!

She was elegantly dressed and evidently belonged to a good family. Every gesture bore the imprint of distinction. She was the kind of awoman you expect to see in the principal box at the opera, resplendentwith jewels, surrounded by admirers. 

We breakfasted at Colmenar. After that my companion became moreconfidential, and I said to myself when we again entered the coach:"Philip, you have met your fate. It's now or never. "

II

I regretted the very first word I mentioned to her regarding myfeelings. She became a block of ice, and I lost at once all that Imight have gained in her good graces. Still she answered me verykindly: "It is not because it is you, sir, who speak to me of love, butlove itself is something which I hold in horror. "

"But why, dear lady?" I inquired. 

"Because my heart is dead. Because I have loved to the point ofdelirium, and I have been deceived. "

I felt that I should talk to her in a philosophic way and there were alot of platitudes on the tip of my tongue, but I refrained. I knew thatshe meant what she said. When we arrived at Malaga, she said to me in atone I shall never forget as long as I live: "I thank you a thousandtimes for your kind attention during the trip, and hope you willforgive me if I do not tell you my name and address. "

"Do you mean then that we shall not meet again?"

"Never! And you, especially, should not regret it. " And then with asmile that was utterly without joy she extended her exquisite hand tome and said: "Pray to God for me. "

I pressed her hand and made a low bow. She entered a handsome victoriawhich was awaiting her, and as it moved away she bowed to me again. 

 * * * * *

Two months later I met her again. 

At two o'clock in the afternoon I was jogging along in an old cart onthe road that leads to Cordoba. The object of my journey was to examinesome land which I owned in that neighborhood and pass three or fourweeks with one of the judges of the Supreme Court, who was an intimatefriend of mine and had been my schoolmate at the University of Granada. 

He received me with open arms. As I entered his handsome house I couldbut note the perfect taste and elegance of the furniture anddecorations. 

"Ah, Zarco, " I said, "you have married, and you have never told meabout it. Surely this was not the way to treat a man who loved you asmuch as I do!"

"I am not married, and what is more I never will marry, " answered thejudge sadly. 

"I believe that you are not married, dear boy, since you say so, but Icannot understand the declaration that you never will. You must bejoking. "

"I swear that I am telling you the truth, " he replied. 

"But what a metamorphosis!" I exclaimed. "You were always a partisan ofmarriage, and for the past two years you have been writing to me andadvising me to take a life partner. Whence this wonderful change, dearfriend? Something must have happened to you, something unfortunate, Ifear?"

"To me?" answered the judge somewhat embarrassed. 

"Yes, to you. Something has happened, and you are going to tell me allabout it. You live here alone, have practically buried yourself in thisgreat house. Come, tell me everything. "

The judge pressed my hand. "Yes, yes, you shall know all. There is noman more unfortunate than I am. But listen, this is the day upon whichall the inhabitants go to the cemetery, and I must be there, if onlyfor form's sake. Come with me. It is a pleasant afternoon and the walkwill do you good, after riding so long in that old cart. The locationof the cemetery is a beautiful one, and I am quite sure you will enjoythe walk. On our way, I will tell you the incident that ruined my life, and you shall judge yourself whether I am justified in my hatred ofwomen. "

As together we walked along the flower-bordered road, my friend told methe following story:

Two years ago when I was Assistant District Attorney in ----, Iobtained permission from my chief to spend a month in Sevilla. In thehotel where I lodged there was a beautiful young woman who passed for awidow but whose origin, as well as her reasons for staying in thattown, were a mystery to all. Her installation, her wealth, her totallack of friends or acquaintances and the sadness of her expression, together with her incomparable beauty, gave rise to a thousandconjectures. 

Her rooms were directly opposite mine, and I frequently met her in thehall or on the stairway, only too glad to have the chance of bowing toher. She was unapproachable, however, and it was impossible for me tosecure an introduction. Two weeks later, fate was to afford me theopportunity of entering her apartment. I had been to the theater thatnight, and when I returned to my room I thoughtlessly opened the doorof her apartment instead of that of my own. The beautiful woman wasreading by the light of the lamp and started when she saw me. I was soembarrassed by my mistake that for a moment I could only stammerunintelligible words. My confusion was so evident that she could notdoubt for a moment that I had made a mistake. I turned to the door, intent upon relieving her of my presence as quickly as possible, whenshe said with the most exquisite courtesy: "In order to show you that Ido not doubt your good faith and that I'm not at all offended, I begthat you will call upon me again, _intentionally_. "

Three days passed before I got up sufficient courage to accept herinvitation. Yes, I was madly in love with her; accustomed as I am toanalyze my own sensations, I knew that my passion could only end in thegreatest happiness or the deepest suffering. However, at the end of thethree days I went to her apartment and spent the evening there. Shetold me that her name was Blanca, that she was born in Madrid, and thatshe was a widow. She played and sang for me and asked me a thousandquestions about myself, my profession, my family, and every word shesaid increased my love for her. From that night my soul was the slaveof her soul; yes, and it _will be forever_. 

I called on her again the following night, and thereafter everyafternoon and evening I was with her. We loved each other, but not aword of love had ever been spoken between us. 

One evening she said to me: "I married a man without loving him. Shortly after marriage I hated him. Now he is dead. Only God knows whatI suffered. Now I understand what love means; it is either heaven or itis hell. For me, up to the present time, it has been hell. "

I could not sleep that night. I lay awake thinking over these lastwords of Blanca's. Somehow this woman frightened me. Would I be herheaven and she my hell?

My leave of absence expired. I could have asked for an extension, pretending illness, but the question was, should I do it? I consultedBlanca. 

"Why do you ask me?" she said, taking my hand. 

"Because I love you. Am I doing wrong in loving you?"

"No, " she said, becoming very pale, and then she put both arms about myneck and her beautiful lips touched mine. 

Well, I asked for another month and, thanks to you, dear friend, it wasgranted. Never would they have given it to me without your influence. 

My relations with Blanca were more than love; they were delirium, madness, fanaticism, call it what you will. Every day my passion forher increased, and the morrow seemed to open up vistas of newhappiness. And yet I could not avoid feeling at times a mysterious, indefinable fear. And this I knew she felt as well as I did. We bothfeared to lose one another. One day I said to Blanca:

"We must marry, as quickly as possible. "

She gave me a strange look. "You wish to marry me?"

"Yes, Blanca, " I said, "I am proud of you. I want to show you to thewhole world. I love you and I want you, pure, noble, and saintly as youare. "

"I cannot marry you, " answered this incomprehensible woman. She wouldnever give a reason. 

Finally my leave of absence expired, and I told her that on thefollowing day we must separate. 

"Separate? It is impossible!" she exclaimed. "I love you too much forthat. "

"But you know, Blanca, that I worship you. "

"Then give up your profession. I am rich. We will live our lives outtogether, " she said, putting her soft hand over my mouth to prevent myanswer. 

I kissed the hand and then, gently removing it, I answered: "I wouldaccept this offer from my wife, although it would be a sacrifice for meto give up my career; but I will not accept it from a woman who refusesto marry me. "

Blanca remained thoughtful for several minutes; then, raising her head, she looked at me and said very quietly, but with a determination whichcould not be misunderstood: "I will be your wife, and I do not ask youto give up your profession. Go back to your office. How long will ittake you to arrange your business matters and secure from thegovernment another leave of absence to return to Sevilla?"

"A month. "

"A month? Well, here I will await you. Return within a month, and Iwill be your wife. To-day is the fifteenth of April. You will be hereon the fifteenth of May?"

"You may rest assured of that. "

"You swear it?"

"I swear it. "

"You love me?"

"More than my life. "

"Go, then, and return. Farewell. "

I left on the same day. The moment I arrived home I began to arrange myhouse to receive my bride. As you know I solicited another leave ofabsence, and so quickly did I arrange my business affairs that at theend of two weeks I was ready to return to Sevilla. 

I must tell you that during this fortnight I did not receive a singleletter from Blanca, though I wrote her six. I started at once forSevilla, arriving in that city on the thirtieth of April, and went atonce to the hotel where we had first met. 

I learned that Blanca had left there two days after my departurewithout telling anyone her destination. 

Imagine my indignation, my disappointment, my suffering. She went awaywithout even leaving a line for me, without telling me whither she wasgoing. It never occurred to me to remain in Sevilla until the fifteenthof May to ascertain whether she would return on that date. Three dayslater I took up my court work and strove to forget her. 

 * * * * *

A few moments after my friend Zarco finished the story, we arrived atthe cemetery. 

This is only a small plot of ground covered with a veritable forest ofcrosses and surrounded by a low stone wall. As often happens in Spain, when the cemeteries are very small, it is necessary to dig up onecoffin in order to lower another. Those thus disinterred are thrown ina heap in a corner of the cemetery, where skulls and bones are piled uplike a haystack. As we were passing, Zarco and I looked at the skulls, wondering to whom they could have belonged, to rich or poor, noble orplebeian. 

Suddenly the judge bent down, and picking up a skull, exclaimed inastonishment:

"Look here, my friend, what is this? It is surely a nail!"

Yes, a long nail had been driven in the top of the skull which he heldin his hand. The nail had been driven into the head, and the point hadpenetrated what had been the roof of the mouth. 

What could this mean? He began to conjecture, and soon both of us feltfilled with horror. 

"I recognize the hand of Providence!" exclaimed the judge. "A terriblecrime has evidently been committed, and would never have come to lighthad it not been for this accident. I shall do my duty, and will notrest until I have brought the assassin to the scaffold. "

III

My friend Zarco was one of the keenest criminal judges in Spain. Withina very few days he discovered that the corpse to which this skullbelonged had been buried in a rough wooden coffin which the gravedigger had taken home with him, intending to use it for firewood. Fortunately, the man had not yet burned it up, and on the lid the judgemanaged to decipher the initials: "A. G. R. " together with the date ofinterment. He had at once searched the parochial books of every churchin the neighborhood, and a week later found the following entry:

 "In the parochial church of San Sebastian of the village of ----, on the 4th of May, 1843, the funeral rites as prescribed by our holy religion were performed over the body of Don Alfonzo Gutierrez Romeral, and he was buried in the cemetery. He was a native of this village and did not receive the holy sacrament, nor did he confess, for he died suddenly of apoplexy at the age of thirty-one. He was married to Doña Gabriela Zahara del Valle, a native of Madrid, and left no issue him surviving. "

The judge handed me the above certificate, duly certified to by theparish priest, and exclaimed: "Now everything is as clear as day, and Iam positive that within a week the assassin will be arrested. Theapoplexy in this case happens to be an iron nail driven into the man'shead, which brought quick and sudden death to A. G. R. I have the nail, and I shall soon find the hammer. "

According to the testimony of the neighbors, Señor Romeral was a youngand rich landowner who originally came from Madrid, where he hadmarried a beautiful wife; four months before the death of the husband, his wife had gone to Madrid to pass a few months with her family; theyoung woman returned home about the last day of April, that is, aboutthree months and a half after she had left her husband's residence togo to Madrid; the death of Señor Romeral occurred about a week afterher return. The shock caused to the widow by the sudden death of herhusband was so great that she became ill and informed her friends thatshe could not continue to live in the same place where everythingrecalled to her the man she had lost, and just before the middle of Mayshe had left for Madrid, ten or twelve days after the death of herhusband. 

The servants of the deceased had testified that the couple did not liveamicably together and had frequent quarrels; that the absence of threemonths and a half which preceded the last eight days the couple hadlived together was practically an understanding that they were to beultimately separated on account of mysterious disagreements which hadexisted between them from the date of their marriage; that on the dateof the death of the deceased, both husband and wife were together inthe former's bedroom; that at midnight the bell was rung violently andthey heard the cries of the wife; that they rushed to the room and weremet at the door by the wife, who was very pale and greatly perturbed, and she cried out: "An apoplexy! Run for a doctor! My poor husband isdying!" That when they entered the room they found their master lyingupon a couch, and he was dead. The doctor who was called certified thatSeñor Romeral had died of cerebral congestion. 

Three medical experts testified that death brought about as this onehad been could not be distinguished from apoplexy. The physician whohad been called in had not thought to look for the head of the nail, which was concealed by the hair of the victim, nor was he in any senseto blame for this oversight. 

The judge immediately issued a warrant for the arrest of Doña GabrielaZahara del Valle, widow of Señor Romeral. 

"Tell me, " I asked the judge one day, "do you think you will evercapture this woman?"

"I'm positive of it. "

"Why?"

"Because in the midst of all these routine criminal affairs thereoccurs now and then what may be termed a dramatic fatality which neverfails. To put it in another way: when the bones come out of the tomb totestify, there is very little left for the judge to do. "

In spite of the hopes of my friend, Gabriela was not found, and threemonths later she was, according to the laws of Spain, tried, foundguilty, and condemned to death in her absence. 

I returned home, not without promising to be with Zarco the followingyear. 

IV

That winter I passed in Granada. One evening I had been invited to agreat ball given by a prominent Spanish lady. As I was mounting thestairs of the magnificent residence, I was startled by the sight of aface which was easily distinguishable even in this crowd of southernbeauties. It was she, my unknown, the mysterious woman of thestagecoach, in fact, No. 1, of whom I spoke at the beginning of thisnarrative. 

I made my way toward her, extending my hand in greeting. She recognizedme at once. 

"Señora, " I said, "I have kept my promise not to search for you. I didnot know I would meet you here. Had I suspected it I would haverefrained from coming, for fear of annoying you. Now that I am here, tell me whether I may recognize you and talk to you. "

"I see that you are vindictive, " she answered graciously, putting herlittle hand in mine. "But I forgive you. How are you?"

"In truth, I don't know. My health--that is, the health of my soul, foryou would not ask me about anything else in a ballroom--depends uponthe health of yours. What I mean is that I could only be happy if youare happy. May I ask if that wound of the heart which you told me aboutwhen I met you in the stagecoach has healed?"

"You know as well as I do that there are wounds which never heal. "

With a graceful bow she turned away to speak to an acquaintance, and Iasked a friend of mine who was passing: "Can you tell me who that womanis?"

"A South American whose name is Mercedes de Meridanueva. "

On the following day I paid a visit to the lady, who was residing atthat time at the Hotel of the Seven Planets. The charming Mercedesreceived me as if I were an intimate friend, and invited me to walkwith her through the wonderful Alhambra and subsequently to dine withher. During the six hours we were together she spoke of many things, and as we always returned to the subject of disappointed love, I feltimpelled to tell her the experience of my friend, Judge Zarco. 

She listened to me very attentively and when I concluded she laughedand said: "Let this be a lesson to you not to fall in love with womenwhom you do not know. "

"Do not think for a moment, " I answered, "that I've invented thisstory. "

"Oh, I don't doubt the truth of it. Perhaps there may be a mysteriouswoman in the Hotel of the Seven Planets of Granada, and perhaps shedoesn't resemble the one your friend fell in love with in Sevilla. Sofar as I am concerned, there is no risk of my falling in love withanyone, for I never speak three times to the same man. "

"Señora! That is equivalent to telling me that you refuse to see meagain!"

"No, I only wish to inform you that I leave Granada to-morrow, and it isprobable that we will never meet again. "

"Never? You told me that during our memorable ride in the stagecoach, and you see that you are not a good prophet. "

I noticed that she had become very pale. She rose from the tableabruptly, saying: "Well, let us leave that to Fate. For my part Irepeat that I am bidding you an eternal farewell. "

She said these last words very solemnly, and then with a graceful bow, turned and ascended the stairway which led to the upper story of thehotel. 

I confess that I was somewhat annoyed at the disdainful way in whichshe seemed to have terminated our acquaintance, yet this feeling waslost in the pity I felt for her when I noted her expression ofsuffering. 

We had met for the last time. Would to God that it had been for thelast time! Man proposes, but God disposes. 

V

A few days later business affairs brought me to the town whereinresided my friend Judge Zarco. I found him as lonely and as sad as atthe time of my last visit. He had been able to find out nothing aboutBlanca, but he could not forget her for a moment. Unquestionably thiswoman was his fate; his heaven or his hell, as the unfortunate man wasaccustomed to saying. 

We were soon to learn that his judicial superstition was to be fullyjustified. 

The evening of the day of my arrival we were seated in his office, reading the last reports of the police, who had been vainly attemptingto trace Gabriela, when an officer entered and handed the judge a notewhich read as follows:

"In the Hotel of the Lion there is a lady who wishes to speak to JudgeZarco. "

"Who brought this?" asked the judge. 

"A servant. "

"Who sent him?"

"He gave no name. "

The judge looked thoughtfully at the smoke of his cigar for a fewmoments, and then said: "A woman! To see me? I don't know why, but thisthing frightens me. What do you think of it, Philip?"

"That it is your duty as a judge to answer the call, of course. Perhapsshe may be able to give you some information in regard to Gabriela. "

"You are right, " answered Zarco, rising. He put a revolver in hispocket, threw his cloak over his shoulders and went out. 

Two hours later he returned. 

I saw at once by his face that some great happiness must have come tohim. He put his arms about me and embraced me convulsively, exclaiming:"Oh, dear friend, if you only knew, if you only knew!"

"But I don't know anything, " I answered. "What on earth has happened toyou?"

"I'm simply the happiest man in the world!"

"But what is it?"

"The note that called me to the hotel was from _her_. "

"But from whom? From Gabriela Zahara?"

"Oh, stop such nonsense! Who is thinking of those things now? It wasshe, I tell you, the other one!"

"In the name of heaven, be calm and tell me whom you are talkingabout. "

"Who could it be but Blanca, my love, my life?"

"Blanca?" I answered with astonishment. "But the woman deceived you. "

"Oh, no; that was all a foolish mistake on my part. "

"Explain yourself. "

"Listen: Blanca adores me!"

"Oh, you think she does? Well, go on. "

"When Blanca and I separated on the fifteenth of April, it wasunderstood that we were to meet again on the fifteenth of May. Shortlyafter I left she received a letter calling her to Madrid on urgentfamily business, and she did not expect me back until the fifteenth ofMay, so she remained in Madrid until the first. But, as you know, I, inmy impatience could not wait, and returned fifteen days before I hadagreed, and not finding her at the hotel I jumped to the conclusionthat she had deceived me, and I did not wait. I have gone through twoyears of torment and suffering, all due to my own stupidity. "

"But she could have written you a letter. "

"She said that she had forgotten the address. "

"Ah, my poor friend, " I exclaimed, "I see that you are striving toconvince yourself. Well, so much the better. Now, when does themarriage take place? I suppose that after so long and dark a night thesun of matrimony will rise radiant. "

"Don't laugh, " exclaimed Zarco; "you shall be my best man. "

"With much pleasure. "

 * * * * *

Man proposes, but God disposes. We were still seated in the library, chatting together, when there came a knock at the door. It was abouttwo o'clock in the morning. The judge and I were both startled, but wecould not have told why. The servant opened the door, and a momentlater a man dashed into the library so breathless from hard runningthat he could scarcely speak. 

"Good news, judge, grand news!" he said when he recovered breath. "Wehave won!"

The man was the prosecuting attorney. 

"Explain yourself, my dear friend, " said the judge, motioning him to achair. "What remarkable occurrence could have brought you hither insuch haste and at this hour of the morning?"

"We have arrested Gabriela Zahara. "

"Arrested her?" exclaimed the judge joyfully. 

"Yes, sir, we have her. One of our detectives has been following herfor a month. He has caught her, and she is now locked up in a cell ofthe prison. "

"Then let us go there at once!" exclaimed the judge. "We willinterrogate her to-night. Do me the favor to notify my secretary. Owingto the gravity of the case, you yourself must be present. Also notifythe guard who has charge of the head of Señor Romeral. It has been myopinion from the beginning that this criminal woman would not dare denythe horrible murder when she was confronted with the evidence of hercrime. So far as you are concerned, " said the judge, turning to me, "Iwill appoint you assistant secretary, so that you can be presentwithout violating the law. "

I did not answer. A horrible suspicion had been growing within me, asuspicion which, like some infernal animal, was tearing at my heartwith claws of steel. Could Gabriela and Blanca be one and the same? Iturned to the assistant district attorney. 

"By the way, " I asked, "where was Gabriela when she was arrested?"

"In the Hotel of the Lion. "

My suffering was frightful, but I could say nothing, do nothing withoutcompromising the judge; besides, I was not sure. Even if I werepositive that Gabriela and Blanca were the same person, what could myunfortunate friend do? Feign a sudden illness? Flee the country? Myonly way was to keep silent and let God work it out in His own way. Theorders of the judge had already been communicated to the chief ofpolice and the warden of the prison. Even at this hour the news hadspread throughout the city and idlers were gathering to see the richand beautiful woman who would ascend the scaffold. I still clung to theslender hope that Gabriela and Blanca were not the same person. Butwhen I went toward the prison I staggered like a drunken man and wascompelled to lean upon the shoulder of one of the officials, who askedme anxiously if I were ill. 

VI

We arrived at the prison at four o'clock in the morning. The largereception room was brilliantly lighted. The guard, holding a black boxin which was the skull of Señor Romeral, was awaiting us. 

The judge took his seat at the head of the long table; the prosecutingattorney sat on his right, and the chief of police stood by with hisarms folded. I and the secretary sat on the left of the judge. A numberof police officers and detectives were standing near the door. 

The judge touched his bell and said to the warden:

"Bring in Doña Gabriela Zahara!"

I felt as if I were dying, and instead of looking at the door, I lookedat the judge to see if I could read in his face the solution of thisfrightful problem. 

I saw him turn livid and clutch his throat with both hands, as if tostop a cry of agony, and then he turned to me with a look of infinitesupplication. 

"Keep quiet!" I whispered, putting my finger on my lips, and then Iadded: "I knew it. "

The unfortunate man arose from his chair. 

"Judge!" I exclaimed, and in that one word I conveyed to him the fullsense of his duty and of the dangers which surrounded him. Hecontrolled himself and resumed his seat, but were it not for the lightin his eyes, he might have been taken for a dead man. Yes, the man wasdead; only the judge lived. 

When I had convinced myself of this, I turned and looked at theaccused. Good God! Gabriela Zahara was not only Blanca, the woman myfriend so deeply loved, but she was also the woman I had met in thestagecoach and subsequently at Granada, the beautiful South American, Mercedes!

All these fantastic women had now merged into one, the real one whostood before us, accused of the murder of her husband and who had beencondemned to die. 

There was still a chance to prove herself innocent. Could she do it?This was my one supreme hope, as it was that of my poor friend. 

Gabriela (we will call her now by her real name) was deathly pale, butapparently calm. Was she trusting to her innocence or to the weaknessof the judge? Our doubts were soon solved. Up to that moment theaccused had looked at no one but the judge. I did not know whether shedesired to encourage him or menace him, or to tell him that his Blancacould not be an assassin. But noting the impassibility of themagistrate and that his face was as expressionless as that of a corpse, she turned to the others, as if seeking help from them. Then her eyesfell upon me, and she blushed slightly. 

The judge now seemed to awaken from his stupor and asked in a harshvoice:

"What is your name?"

"Gabriela Zahara, widow of Romeral, " answered the accused in a softvoice. 

Zarco trembled. He had just learned that his Blanca had never existed;she told him so herself--she who only three hours before had consentedto become his wife!

Fortunately, no one was looking at the judge, all eyes being fixed uponGabriela, whose marvelous beauty and quiet demeanor carried to all analmost irresistible conviction of her innocence. 

The judge recovered himself, and then, like a man who is staking morethan life upon the cast of a die, he ordered the guard to open theblack box. 

"Madame!" said the judge sternly, his eyes seeming to dart flames, "approach and tell me whether you recognize this head?"

At a signal from the judge the guard opened the black box and liftedout the skull. 

A cry of mortal agony rang through that room; one could not tellwhether it was of fear or of madness. The woman shrank back, her eyesdilating with terror, and screamed: "Alfonzo, Alfonzo!"

Then she seemed to fall into a stupor. All turned to the judge, murmuring: "She is guilty beyond a doubt. "

"Do you recognize the nail which deprived your husband of life?" saidthe judge, arising from his chair, looking like a corpse rising fromthe grave. 

"Yes, sir, " answered Gabriela mechanically. 

"That is to say, you admit that you assassinated your husband?" askedthe judge, in a voice that trembled with his great suffering. 

"Sir, " answered the accused, "I do not care to live any more, butbefore I die I would like to make a statement. "

The judge fell back in his chair and then asked me by a look: "What isshe going to say?"

I, myself, was almost stupefied by fear. 

Gabriela stood before them, her hands clasped and a far-away look inher large, dark eyes. 

"I am going to confess, " she said, "and my confession will be mydefense, although it will not be sufficient to save me from thescaffold. Listen to me, all of you! Why deny that which isself-evident? I was alone with my husband when he died. The servantsand the doctor have testified to this. Hence, only I could have killedhim. Yes, I committed the crime, but another man forced me to do it. "

The judge trembled when he heard these words, but, dominating hisemotion, he asked courageously:

"The name of that man, madame? Tell us at once the name of thescoundrel!"

Gabriela looked at the judge with an expression of infinite love, as amother would look at the child she worshiped, and answered: "By asingle word I could drag this man into the depths with me. But I willnot. No one shall ever know his name, for he has loved me and I lovehim. Yes, I love him, although I know he will do nothing to save me!"

The judge half rose from his chair and extended his hands beseechingly, but she looked at him as if to say: "Be careful! You will betrayyourself, and it will do no good. "

He sank back into his chair, and Gabriela continued her story in aquiet, firm voice:

"I was forced to marry a man I hated. I hated him more after I marriedhim than I did before. I lived three years in martyrdom. One day therecame into my life a man whom I loved. He demanded that I should marryhim, he asked me to fly with him to a heaven of happiness and love. Hewas a man of exceptional character, high and noble, whose only faultwas that he loved me too much. Had I told him: 'I have deceived you, Iam not a widow; my husband is living, ' he would have left me at once. Iinvented a thousand excuses, but he always answered: 'Be my wife!' Whatcould I do? I was bound to a man of the vilest character and habits, whom I loathed. Well, I killed this man, believing that I wascommitting an act of justice, and God punished me, for my loverabandoned me. And now I am very, very tired of life, and all I ask ofyou is that death may come as quickly as possible. "

Gabriela stopped speaking. The judge had buried his face in his hands, as if he were thinking, but I could see he was shaking like anepileptic. 

"Your honor, " repeated Gabriela, "grant my request that I may diesoon. "

The judge made a sign to the guards to remove the prisoner. 

Before she followed them, she gave me a terrible look in which therewas more of pride than of repentance. 

 * * * * *

I do not wish to enter into details of the condition of the judgeduring the following day. In the great emotional struggle which tookplace, the officer of the law conquered the man, and he confirmed thesentence of death. 

On the following day the papers were sent to the Court of Appeals, andthen Zarco came to me and said: "Wait here until I return. Take care ofthis unfortunate woman, but do not visit her, for your presence wouldhumiliate instead of consoling her. Do not ask me whither I am going, and do not think that I am going to commit the very foolish act oftaking my own life. Farewell, and forgive me all the worry I havecaused you. "

Twenty days later the Court of Appeals confirmed the sentence, andGabriela Zahara was placed in the death cell. 

 * * * * *

The morning of the day fixed for the execution came, and still thejudge had not returned. The scaffold had been erected in the center ofthe square, and an enormous crowd had gathered. I stood by the door ofthe prison, for, while I had obeyed the wish of my friend that I shouldnot call on Gabriela in her prison, I believed it my duty to representhim in that supreme moment and accompany the woman he had loved to thefoot of the scaffold. 

When she appeared, surrounded by her guards, I hardly recognized her. She had grown very thin and seemed hardly to have the strength to liftto her lips the small crucifix she carried in her hand. 

"I am here, señora. Can I be of service to you?" I asked her as shepassed by me. 

She raised her deep, sunken eyes to mine, and, when she recognized me, she exclaimed:

"Oh, thanks, thanks! This is a great consolation for me, in my lasthour of life. Father, " she added, turning to the priest who stoodbeside her, "may I speak a few words to this generous friend?"

"Yes, my daughter, " answered the venerable minister. 

Then Gabriela asked me: "Where is he?"

"He is absent--"

"May God bless him and make him happy! When you see him, ask him toforgive me even as I believe God has already forgiven me. Tell him Ilove him yet, although this love is the cause of my death. "

We had arrived at the foot of the scaffold stairway, where I wascompelled to leave her. A tear, perhaps the last one there was in thatsuffering heart, rolled down her cheek. Once more she said: "Tell himthat I died blessing him. "

Suddenly there came a roar like that of thunder. The mass of peopleswayed, shouted, danced, laughed like maniacs, and above all thistumult one word rang out clearly:

"Pardoned! Pardoned!"

At the entrance to the square appeared a man on horseback, gallopingmadly toward the scaffold. In his hand he waved a white handkerchief, and his voice rang high above the clamor of the crowd: "Pardoned!Pardoned!"

It was the judge. Reining up his foaming horse at the foot of thescaffold, he extended a paper to the chief of police. 

Gabriela, who had already mounted some of the steps, turned and gavethe judge a look of infinite love and gratitude. 

"God bless you!" she exclaimed, and then fell senseless. 

As soon as the signatures and seals upon the document had been verifiedby the authorities, the priest and the judge rushed to the accused toundo the cords which bound her hands and arms and to revive her. 

All their efforts were useless, however. Gabriela Zahara was dead. 

LUIGI CAPUANA

_The Deposition_

"I know nothing at all about it, your honor!"

"Nothing at all? How can that be? It all happened within fifty yards ofyour shop. "

"'Nothing at all, ' I said, . . . In an off-hand way; but really, next tonothing. I am a barber, your honor, and Heaven be praised! I havecustom enough to keep me busy from morning till night. There are threeof us in the shop, and what with shaving and combing and hair-cutting, not one of the three has the time to stop and scratch his head, and Ileast of all. Many of my customers are so kind as to prefer my servicesto those of my two young men; perhaps because I amuse them with mylittle jokes. And, what with lathering and shaving this face and that, and combing the hair on so many heads--how does your honor expect me topay attention to other people's affairs? And the morning that I readabout it in the paper, why, I stood there with my mouth wide open, andI said, 'Well, that was the way it was bound to end!'"

"Why did you say, 'That was the way it was bound to end'?"

"Why--because it had ended that way! You see--on the instant, I calledto mind the ugly face of the husband. Every time I saw him pass up ordown the street--one of those impressions that no one can accountfor--I used to think, 'That fellow has the face of a convict!' But ofcourse that proves nothing. There are plenty who have the bad luck tobe uglier than mortal sin, but very worthy people all the same. But inthis case I didn't think that I was mistaken. "

"But you were friends. He used to come very often and sit down at theentrance to your barber shop. "

"Very often? Only once in a while, your honor! 'By your leave, neighbor, ' he would say. He always called me 'neighbor'; that was hisname for everyone. And I would say, 'Why, certainly. ' The chair stoodthere, empty. Your honor understands that I could hardly be so uncivilas to say to him, 'No, you can't sit down. ' A barber shop is a publicplace, like a café or a beer saloon. At all events, one may sit downwithout paying for it, and no need to have a shave or hair-cut, either!'By your leave, neighbor, ' and there he would sit, in silence, smokingand scowling, with his eyes half shut. He would loaf there for half anhour, an hour, sometimes longer. He annoyed me, I don't deny it, fromthe very start. There was a good deal of talk. "

"What sort of talk?"

"A good deal of talk. Your honor knows, better than I, how evil-mindedpeople are. I make it a practice not to believe a syllable of what I amtold about anyone, good or evil; that is the way to keep out oftrouble. "

"Come, come, what sort of talk? Keep to the point. "

"What sort of talk? Why, one day they would say this, and the next daythey would say that, and by harping on it long enough, they madethemselves believe that the wife--Well, your honor knows that a prettywife is a chastisement of God. And after all, there are some thingsthat you can't help seeing unless you won't see!"

"Then it was he, the husband--"

"I know nothing about it, your honor, nothing at all! But it is quitetrue that every time he came and sat down by my doorway or inside theshop, I used to say to myself, 'If that man can't see, he certainlymust be blind! and if he won't see, he certainly must be--Your honorknows what I mean. There was certainly no getting out of that--out ofthat--Perhaps your honor can help me to the right word?"

"Dilemma?"

"Dilemma, yes, your honor. And Biasi, the notary, who comes to me to beshaved, uses another word that just fits the case, begging your honor'spardon. "

"Then, according to you, this Don Nicasio--"

"Oh, I won't put my finger in the pie! Let him answer for himself. Everyone has a conscience of his own; and Jesus Christ has said, 'Judgenot, lest ye be judged. ' Well, one morning--or was it in the evening? Idon't exactly remember--yes, now it comes back to me that it was in themorning--I saw him pass by, scowling and with his head bent down; I wasin my doorway, sharpening a razor. Out of curiosity I gave him apassing word as well as a nod, adding a gesture that was as good as aquestion. He came up to me, looked me straight in the face, andanswered: 'Haven't I told you that, sooner or later, I should dosomething crazy? And I shall, neighbor, yes, I shall! They are draggingme by the hair!' 'Let me cut it off, then!' I answered jokingly, tomake him forget himself. "

"So, he had told you before, had he? How did he happen to tell youbefore?"

"Oh, your honor knows how words slip out of the mouth at certainmoments. Who pays attention to them? For my part, I have too many otherthings in my head--"

"Come, come--what had he been talking about, when he told you before?"

"Great heavens, give me time to think, your honor! What had he beentalking about? Why, about his wife, of course. Who knows? Some one musthave put a flea in his ear. It needs only half a word to ruin a poordevil's peace of mind. And that is how a man lets such words slip outof his mouth as 'Sooner or later I shall do something crazy!' That isall. I know nothing else about it, your honor!"

"And the only answer you made him was a joke?"

"I could not say to him, 'Go ahead and do it, ' could I? As it was hewent off, shaking his head. And what idea he kept brooding over, afterthat, who knows? One can't see inside of another man's brain. Butsometimes, when I heard him freeing his mind--"

"Then he used to free his mind to you?"

"Why, yes, to me, and maybe to others besides. You see, one bearsthings and bears things and bears things; and at last, rather thanburst with them, one frees one's mind to the first man who comesalong. "

"But you were not the first man who came along. You used to call at hishouse--"

"Only as a barber, your honor! Only when Don Nicasio used to send forme. And very often I would get there too late, though I tried my best. "

"And very likely you sometimes went there when you knew that he was notat home?"

"On purpose, your honor? No, never!"

"And when you found his wife alone, you allowed yourself--"

"Calumnies, your honor! Who dares say such a thing? Does she say so? Itmay be that once or twice a few words escaped me in jest. You know howit is--when I found myself face to face with a pretty woman--you knowhow it is--if only not to cut a foolish figure!"

"But it was very far from a joke! You ended by threatening her!"

"What calumnies! Threaten her? What for? A woman of her stamp doesn'tneed to be threatened! I would never have stooped so low! I am noschoolboy!"

"Passion leads men into all sorts of folly. "

"That woman is capable of anything! She would slander our Lord himselfto His face! Passion? I? At my age? I am well on in the forties, yourhonor, and many a gray hair besides. Many a folly I committed in myyouth, like everyone else. But now--Besides, with a woman like that! Iwas no blind man, even if Don Nicasio was. I knew that that youngfellow--poor fool, he paid dearly for her--I knew that he had turnedher head. That's the way with some women--they go their own gait, they're off with one and on with another, and then they end by becomingthe slave of some scalawag who robs and abuses them! He used to beather, your honor, many and many a time, your honor! And I, for the sakeof the poor husband, whom I pitied--Yes, that is why she says that Ithreatened her. She says so, because I was foolish enough to go andgive her a talking to, the day that Don Nicasio said to me, 'I shall dosomething crazy!' She knew what I meant, at least she pretended thatshe did. "

"No; this was what you said--"

"Yes, your honor, I remember now exactly what I said. 'I'll spoil yoursport, ' I told her, 'if it sends me to the galleys!' but I was speakingin the name of the husband. In the heat of the moment one falls into apart--"

"The husband knew nothing of all this. "

"Was I to boast to him of what I had done? A friend either gives hisservices or else he doesn't. That is how I understand it. "

"Why were you so much concerned about it? ". 

"I ought not to have been, your honor. I have too soft a heart. "

"Your threats became troublesome. And not threats alone, but promiseafter promise! And gifts besides, a ring and a pair of earrings--"

"That is true. I won't deny it. I found them in my pocket, quite bychance. They belonged to my wife. It was an extravagance, but I did it, to keep poor Don Nicasio from doing something crazy. If I could onlywin my point, I told myself, if I could only get that young fellow outof the way, then it would be time enough to say to Don Nicasio, 'Myfriend, give me back my ring and my earrings!' He would not have neededto be told twice. He is an honorable man, Don Nicasio!"

"But when she answered you, 'Keep them yourself, I don't want them!'you began to beg her, almost in tears--"

"Ah, your honor! since you must be told--I don't know how I managed tocontrol myself--I had so completely put myself in the place of thehusband! I could have strangled her with my own hands! I could havedone that very same crazy thing that Don Nicasio thought of doing!"

"Yet you were very prudent, that is evident. You said to yourself: 'Ifnot for me, then not for him!' The lover, I mean, not Don Nicasio. Andyou began to work upon the husband, who, up to that time, had letthings slide, either because he did not believe, or else because hepreferred to bear the lesser evil--"

"It may be that some chance word escaped me. There are times when a manof honor loses his head--but beyond that, nothing, your honor. DonNicasio himself will bear me witness. "

"But Don Nicasio says--"

"He, too? Has he failed me? Has he turned against me? A fine way toshow his gratitude!"

"He has nothing to be grateful for. Don't excite yourself! Sit downagain. You began by protesting that you knew nothing at all about it. And yet you knew so many things. You must know quite a number more. Don't excite yourself. "

"You want to drag me over a precipice, your honor! I begin tounderstand!"

"Men who are blinded by passion walk over precipices on their ownfeet. "

"But--then your honor imagines that I, myself--"

"I imagine nothing. It is evident that you were the instigator, andsomething more than the instigator, too. "

"Calumny, calumny, your honor!"

"That same evening you were seen talking with the husband until quitelate. "

"I was trying to persuade him not to. I said to him, 'Let things alone!Since it is your misfortune to have it so, what difference does it makewhether he is the one, or somebody else?' And he kept repeating, 'Somebody else, yes, but not that rotten beast!' His very words, yourhonor. "

"You stood at the corner of the adjoining street, lying in wait. "

"Who saw me there? Who saw us, your honor?"

"You were seen. Come, make up your mind to tell all you know. It willbe better for you. The woman testifies, 'There were two of them, ' butin the dark she could not recognize the other one. "

"Just because I wanted to do a kind act! This is what I have brought onmyself by trying to do a kind act!"

"You stood at the street corner--"

"It was like this, your honor. I had gone with him as far as that. Butwhen I saw that it was no use to try to stop him--it was strikingeleven--the streets were deserted--I started to leave him indignantly, without a parting word--"

"Well, what next? Do I need tongs to drag the words out of your mouth?"

"What next? Why, your honor knows how it is at night, under thelamplight. You see and then you don't see--that's the way it is. Iturned around--Don Nicasio had plunged through the doorway of hishome--just by the entrance to the little lane. A cry!--then nothingmore!"

"You ran forward? That was quite natural. "

"I hesitated on the threshold--the hallway was so dark. "

"You couldn't have done that. The woman would have recognized you bythe light of the street lamp. "

"The lamp is some distance off. "

"You went in one after the other. Which of you shut the door? Becausethe door was shut immediately. "

"In the confusion of the moment--two men struggling together--I couldhear them gasping--I wanted to call for help--then a fall! And then Ifelt myself seized by the arm: 'Run, neighbor, run! This is no businessof yours!' It didn't sound like the voice of a human being. And thatwas how--that was how I happened to be there, a helpless witness. Ithink that Don Nicasio meant to kill his wife, too; but the wretchedwoman escaped. She ran and shut herself up in her room. That is--I readso afterwards, in the papers. The husband would have been wiser to havekilled her first. Evil weeds had better be torn up by the roots. Whatare you having that man write, your honor?"

"Nothing at all, as you call it. Just your deposition. The clerk willread it to you now, and you will sign it. "

"Can any harm come to me from it? I am innocent! I have only said whatyou wanted to make me say. You have tangled me up in a fine net, like alittle fresh-water fish!"

"Wait a moment. And this is the most important thing of all. How did ithappen that the mortal wounds on the dead man's body were made with arazor?"

"Oh, the treachery of Don Nicasio! My God! My God! Yes, your honor. Twodays before--no one can think of everything, no one can foreseeeverything--he came to the shop and said to me, 'Neighbor, lend me arazor; I have a corn that is troubling me. ' He was so matter-of-factabout it that I did not hesitate for an instant. I even warned him, 'Becareful! you can't joke with corns! A little blood, and you may start acancer!' 'Don't borrow trouble, neighbor, ' he answered. "

"But the razor could not be found. You must have brought it away. "

"I? Who would remember a little thing like that? I was more dead thanalive, your honor. Where are you trying to lead me, with yourquestions? I tell you, I am innocent!"

"Do not deny so obstinately. A frank confession will help you far morethan to protest your innocence. The facts speak clearly enough. It iswell known how passion maddens the heart and the brain. A man in thatstate is no longer himself. "

"That is the truth, your honor! That wretched woman bewitched me! Sheis sending me to the galleys! The more she said 'No, no, no!' the moreI felt myself going mad, from head to foot, as if she were pouring fireover me, with her 'No, no, no!' But now--I do not want another man tosuffer in my place. Yes, I was the one, I was the one who killed him! Iwas bewitched, your honor! I am willing to go to the galleys. But I amcoming back here, if I have the good luck to live through my term. Oh, the justice of this world! To think that she goes scot free, the realand only cause of all the harm! But I will see that she gets justice, that I solemnly swear--with these two hands of mine, your honor! Inprison I shall think of nothing else. And if I come back and find heralive--grown old and ugly, it makes no difference--she will have to payfor it, she will have to make good! Ah, 'no, no, no!' But I will say, 'Yes, yes, yes!' And I will drain her last drop of blood, if I have toend my days in the galleys. And the sooner, the better!"

LUCIUS APULEIUS

_The Adventure of the Three Robbers_

 The great satire of Lucius Apuleius, the work through which his name lives after the lapse of nearly eighteen centuries, is "The Golden Ass, " a romance from which the following passage has been selected and translated for these Mystery Stories. Lucius, the personage who tells the story, is regarded in some quarters as a portrayal of the author himself. The purpose of "The Golden Ass" was to satirize false priests and other contemporary frauds. But interspersed are many episodes of adventure and strange situations, one of which is here given. 

As Telephron reached the point of his story, his fellow revelers, befuddled with their wine, renewed the boisterous uproar. And while theold topers were clamoring for the customary libation to laughter, Byrrhæna explained to me that the morrow was a day religiously observedby her city from its cradle up; a day on which they alone among mortalspropitiated that most sacred god, Laughter, with hilarious and joyfulrites. "The fact that you are here, " she added, "will make it all themerrier. And I do wish that you would contribute something amusing outof your own cleverness, in honor of the god, to help us duly worshipsuch an important divinity. "

"Surely, " said I, "what you ask shall be done. And, by Jove! I hope Ishall hit upon something good enough to make this mighty god of yoursreveal his presence. "

Hereupon, my slave reminding me what hour of night it was, I speedilygot upon my feet, although none too steadily after my potations, and, having duly taken leave of Byrrhæna, guided my zigzag steps upon thehomeward way. But at the very first corner we turned, a sudden gust ofwind blew out the solitary torch on which we depended, and left us, plunged in the unforeseen blackness of night, to stumble wearily andpainfully to our abode, bruising our feet on every stone in the road. 

But when at last, holding each other up, we drew near our goal, thereahead of us were three others, of big and brawny build, expending thefull energy of their strength upon our doorposts. And far from being inthe least dismayed by our arrival, they seemed only fired to a greaterzeal and made assault more fiercely. Quite naturally, it seemed clearto us both, and especially to me, that they were robbers, and of themost dangerous sort. So I forthwith drew the blade which I carry hiddenunder my cloak for such emergencies, and threw myself, undismayed, intothe midst of these highwaymen. One after another, as they successivelytried to withstand me, I ran them through, until finally all three laystretched at my feet, riddled with many a gaping wound, through whichthey yielded up their breath. By this time Fotis, the maid, had beenaroused by the din of battle, and still panting and perspiring freely Islipped in through the opening door, and, as weary as though I hadfought with the three-formed Geryon instead of those pugnaciousthieves, I yielded myself at one and the same moment to bed and toslumber. 

Soon rosy-fingered Dawn, shaking the purple reins, was guiding hersteeds across the path of heaven; and, snatched from my untroubledrest, night gave me back to day. Dismay seized my soul at therecollection of my deeds of the past evening. I sat there, crouching onmy bed, with my interlaced fingers hugging my knees, and freely gaveway to my distress; I already saw in fancy the court, the jury, theverdict, the executioner. How could I hope to find any judge so mild, so benevolent as to pronounce me innocent, soiled as I was with atriple murder, stained with the blood of so many citizens? Was this theglorious climax of my travels that the Chaldean, Diophanes, had soconfidently predicted for me? Again and again I went over the wholematter bewailing my hard lot. 

Hereupon there came a pounding at our doors and a steadily growingclamor on the threshold. No sooner was admission given than, with animpetuous rush, the whole house was filled with magistrates, police, and the motley crowd that followed. Two officers, by order of themagistrates, promptly laid hands upon me, and started to drag me off, though resistance was the last thing I should have thought of. By thetime we had reached the first cross street the entire city was alreadytrailing at our heels in an astonishingly dense mass. And I marchedgloomily along with my head hanging down to the very earth--I mighteven say to the lower regions below the earth. 

At length after having made the circuit of every city square, inexactly the way that the victims are led around before a sacrificemeant to ward off evil omens, I was brought into the forum and made toconfront the tribunal of justice. The magistrates had taken their seatsupon the raised platform, the court crier had commanded silence, whensuddenly everyone present, as if with one voice, protested that in sovast a gathering there was danger from the dense crowding, and demandedthat a case of such importance should be tried instead in the publictheater. No sooner said than the entire populace streamed onward, helter-skelter, and in a marvelously short time had packed the wholeauditorium till every aisle and gallery was one solid mass. Manyswarmed up the columns, others dangled from the statues, while a fewthere were that perched, half out of sight, on window ledges andcornices; but all in their amazing eagerness seemed quite careless howfar they risked their lives. After the manner of a sacrifice I was ledby the public officials down the middle of the stage, and was leftstanding in the midst of the orchestra. Once more the voice of thecourt crier boomed forth, calling for the prosecutor, whereupon acertain old man arose, and having first taken a small vase, the bottomof which ended in a narrow funnel, and having filled it with water, which escaping drop by drop should mark the length of his speech, addressed the populace as follows:

"This is no trivial case, most honored citizens, but one which directlyconcerns the peace of our entire city, and one which will be handeddown as a weighty precedent. Wherefore, your individual and commoninterests equally demand that you should sustain the dignity of theState, and not permit this brutal murderer to escape the penalty of thewholesale butchery that resulted from his bloody deeds. And do notthink that I am influenced by any private motives, or giving vent topersonal animosity. For I am in command of the night watch, and up tothis time I think there is no one who will question my watchfuldiligence. Accordingly I will state the case and faithfully set forththe events of last night. 

"It was about the hour of the third watch, and I was making my round ofthe entire city, going from door to door with scrupulous vigilance, when suddenly I beheld this bloodthirsty young man, sword in hand, spreading carnage around him; already, no less than three victims ofhis savagery lay writhing at his feet, gasping forth their breath in apool of blood. Stricken, as well he might be, with the guilt of sogreat a crime, the fellow fled, and, slipping into one of the housesunder cover of the darkness, lay hidden the rest of the night. But, thanks to the gods who permit no sinner to go unpunished, I forestalledhim at daybreak, before he could make his escape by secret ways, andhave brought him here for trial before your sacred tribunal of justice. The prisoner at the bar is a threefold murderer; he was taken in thevery act; and, furthermore, he is a foreigner. Accordingly, it is yourplain duty to return a verdict of guilty against this man from astrange land for a crime which you would severely punish even in thecase of one of your own citizens. "

Having thus spoken, the remorseless prosecutor suspended his vindictiveutterance, and the court crier straightway ordered me to begin mydefense, if I had any to make. At first I could not sufficientlycontrol my voice to speak, although less overcome, alas, by theharshness of the accusation than by my own guilty conscience. But atlast, miraculously inspired with courage, I made answer as follows:

"I realize how hard it is for a man accused of murder, and confrontedwith the bodies of three of your citizens, to persuade so large amultitude of his innocence, even though he tells the exact truth andvoluntarily admits the facts. But if in mercy you will give me anattentive hearing, I shall easily make clear to you that far fromdeserving to be put on trial for my life, I have wrongfully incurredthe heavy stigma of such a crime as the chance result of justifiableindignation. 

"I was making my way home from a dinner party at a rather late hour, after drinking pretty freely, I won't attempt to deny--for that was thehead and front of my offense--when, lo and behold! before the verydoors of my abode, before the home of the good Milo, yourfellow-citizen, I beheld a number of villainous thieves trying toeffect an entrance and already prying the doors off from the twistedhinges. All the locks and bolts, so carefully closed for the night, hadbeen wrenched away, and the thieves were planning the slaughter of theinmates. Finally, one of them, bigger and more active than the rest, urged them to action with these words:

"'Come on, boys! Show the stuff you are made of, and strike for all youare worth while they are asleep! No quarter now, no faint-heartedweakening! Let death go through the house with drawn sword! If you findany in bed, slit their throats before they wake; if any try to resist, cut them down. Our only chance of getting away safe and sound is toleave no one else safe and sound in the whole house. '

"I confess, citizens, that I was badly frightened, both on account ofmy hosts and myself; and believing that I was doing the duty of a goodcitizen, I drew the sword which always accompanies me in readiness forsuch dangers, and started in to drive away or lay low those desperaterobbers. But the barbarous and inhuman villains, far from beingfrightened away, had the audacity to stand against me, although theysaw that I was armed. Their serried ranks opposed me. Next, the leaderand standard-bearer of the band, assailing me with brawny strength, seized me with both hands by the hair, and bending me backward, prepared to beat out my brains with a paving stone; but while he wasstill shouting for one, with an unerring stroke I luckily ran himthrough and stretched him at my feet. Before long a second stroke, aimed between the shoulders, finished off another of them, as he clungtooth and nail to my legs; while the third one, as he rashly advanced, I stabbed full in the chest. 

"Since I had fought on the side of law and order, in defense of publicsafety and my host's home, I felt myself not only without blame butdeserving of public praise. I have never before been charged with eventhe slightest infringement of the law; I enjoy a high reputation amongmy own people, and all my life have valued a clear conscience above allmaterial possessions. Nor can I understand why I should suffer thisprosecution for having taken a just vengeance upon those worthlessthieves, since no one can show that there had ever before been anyenmity between us, or for that matter that I had ever had any previousacquaintance with the thieves. You have not even established any motivefor which I may be supposed to have committed so great a crime. "

At this point my emotion again overcame me, and with my hands extendedin entreaty, I turned from one to another, beseeching them to spare mein the name of common humanity, for the sake of all that they helddear. I thought by this time they must be moved to pity, thrilled withsympathy for my wretchedness; accordingly I called to witness the Eyeof Justice and the Light of Day, and intrusted my case to theprovidence of God, when lifting up my eyes I discovered that the wholeassembly was convulsed with laughter, not excepting my own kind hostand relative, Milo, who was shaking with merriment. "So much forfriendship!" I thought to myself, "so much for gratitude! In protectingmy host, I have become a murderer, on trial for my life; while he, farfrom raising a finger to help me, makes a mock of my misery. "

At this moment a woman clad in black rushed down the center of thestage, weeping and wailing and clasping a small child to her breast. Anolder woman, covered with rags and similarly shaken with sobs, followedher, both of them waving olive branches as they passed around the bieron which lay the covered bodies of the slain, and lifted up theirvoices in mournful outcry: "For the sake of common humanity, " theywailed, "by all the universal laws of justice, be moved to pity by theundeserved death of these young men! Give to a lonely wife and motherthe comfort of vengeance! Come to the aid of this unhappy child leftfatherless in his tender years, and offer up the blood of the assassinat the shrine of law and order. "

Hereupon the presiding magistrate arose and addressed the people:

"The crime for which the prisoner will later pay the full penalty, noteven he attempts to deny. But still another duty remains to beperformed, and that is to find out who were his accomplices in thiswicked deed; since it does not seem likely that one man alone couldhave overcome three others so young and strong as these. We must applytorture to extract the truth; and since the slave who accompanied himhas made his escape, there is no other alternative left us than towring the names of his companions from the prisoner himself, in orderthat we may effectually relieve the public of all apprehension ofdanger from this desperate gang. "

Immediately, in accordance with the Greek usage, fire and the wheelwere brought forth, together with all the other instruments of torture. Now indeed my distress was not only increased but multiplied when I sawthat I was fated to perish piecemeal. But at this point the old woman, whose noisy lamentations had become a nuisance, broke out with thisdemand:

"Honored citizens, before you proceed to torture the prisoner, onaccount of the dear ones whom he has taken from me, will you not permitthe bodies of the deceased to be uncovered in order that the sight oftheir youth and beauty may fire you with a righteous anger and aseverity proportioned to the crime?"

These words were received with applause, and straightway the magistratecommanded that I myself should with my own hand draw off the coveringfrom the bodies lying on the bier. In spite of my struggles anddesperate determination not to look again upon the consequences of mylast night's deed, the court attendants promptly dragged me forward, inobedience to the judge's order, and bending my arm by main force fromits place at my side stretched it out above the three corpses. Conquered in the struggle, I yielded to necessity, and much against mywill drew down the covering and exposed the bodies. 

Great heavens, what a sight! What a miracle! What a transformation inmy whole destiny! I had already begun to look upon myself as a vassalof Proserpine, a bondsman of Hades, and now I could only gasp inimpotent amazement at the suddenness of the change; words fail me toexpress fittingly the astounding metamorphosis. For the bodies of mybutchered victims were nothing more nor less than three inflatedbladders, whose sides still bore the scars of numerous punctures, which, as I recalled my battle of the previous night, were situated atthe very points where I had inflicted gaping wounds upon myadversaries. Hereupon the hilarity, which up to this point had beenfairly held in check, swept through the crowd like a conflagration. Some gave themselves up helplessly to an unrestrained extravagance ofmerriment; others did their best to control themselves, holding theiraching sides with both hands. And having all laughed until they couldlaugh no more, they passed out of the theater, their backward glancesstill centered upon me. 

From the moment that I had drawn down that funeral pall I stood fixedas if frozen into stone, as powerless to move as anyone of thetheater's statues or columns. Nor did I come out of my stupor untilMilo, my host, himself approached and clapping me on the shoulder, drewme away with gentle violence, my tears now flowing freely and sobschoking my voice. He led me back to the house by a roundabout waythrough the least frequented streets, doing his best meanwhile tosoothe my nerves and heal my wounded feelings. But nothing he could sayavailed to lessen my bitter indignation at having been made soundeservedly ridiculous. But all at once the magistrates themselves, still wearing their insignia of office, arrived at the house and madepersonal amends in the following words:

"We are well aware, Master Lucius, both of your own high merit and thatof your family, for the renown of your name extends throughout theland. Accordingly, you must understand that the treatment which you sokeenly resent was in no sense intended as an insult. Therefore, banishyour present gloomy mood and dismiss all anger from your mind. For thefestival, which we solemnly celebrate with each returning year in honorof the God of Laughter, must always depend upon novelty for itssuccess. And so our god, who owes you so great a debt to-day, decreesthat his favoring presence shall follow you wherever you go, and thatyour cheerful countenance shall everywhere be a signal for hilarity. The whole city, out of gratitude, bestows upon you exceptional honors, enrolling your name as one of its patrons, and decreeing that yourlikeness in bronze shall be erected as a perpetual memorial of to-day. "

PLINY, THE YOUNGER

_Letter to Sura_

Our leisure furnishes me with the opportunity of learning from you, andyou with that of instructing me. Accordingly, I particularly wish toknow whether you think there exist such things as phantoms, possessingan appearance peculiar to themselves, and a certain supernatural power, or that mere empty delusions receive a shape from our fears. For mypart, I am led to believe in their existence, especially by what I hearhappened to Curtius Rufus. While still in humble circumstances andobscure, he was a hanger-on in the suite of the Governor of Africa. While pacing the colonnade one afternoon, there appeared to him afemale form of superhuman size and beauty. She informed the terrifiedman that she was "Africa, " and had come to foretell future events; forthat he would go to Rome, would fill offices of state there, and wouldeven return to that same province with the highest powers, and die init. All which things were fulfilled. Moreover, as he touched atCarthage, and was disembarking from his ship, the same form is said tohave presented itself to him on the shore. It is certain that, beingseized with illness, and auguring the future from the past andmisfortune from his previous prosperity, he himself abandoned all hopeof life, though none of those about him despaired. 

Is not the following story again still more appalling and not lessmarvelous? I will relate it as it was received by me:

There was at Athens a mansion, spacious and commodious, but of evilrepute and dangerous to health. In the dead of night there was a noiseas of iron, and, if you listened more closely, a clanking of chains washeard, first of all from a distance, and afterwards hard by. Presentlya specter used to appear, an ancient man sinking with emaciation andsqualor, with a long beard and bristly hair, wearing shackles on hislegs and fetters on his hands, and shaking them. Hence the inmates, byreason of their fears, passed miserable and horrible nights insleeplessness. This want of sleep was followed by disease, and, theirterrors increasing, by death. For in the daytime as well, though theapparition had departed, yet a reminiscence of it flitted before theireyes, and their dread outlived its cause. The mansion was accordinglydeserted, and, condemned to solitude, was entirely abandoned to thedreadful ghost. However, it was advertised, on the chance of some one, ignorant of the fearful curse attached to it, being willing to buy orto rent it. Athenodorus, the philosopher, came to Athens and read theadvertisement. When he had been informed of the terms, which were solow as to appear suspicious, he made inquiries, and learned the wholeof the particulars. Yet none the less on that account, nay, all themore readily, did he rent the house. As evening began to draw on, heordered a sofa to be set for himself in the front part of the house, and called for his notebooks, writing implements, and a light. Thewhole of his servants he dismissed to the interior apartments, and forhimself applied his soul, eyes, and hand to composition, that his mindmight not, from want of occupation, picture to itself the phantoms ofwhich he had heard, or any empty terrors. At the commencement there wasthe universal silence of night. Soon the shaking of irons and theclanking of chains was heard, yet he never raised his eyes norslackened his pen, but hardened his soul and deadened his ears by itshelp. The noise grew and approached: now it seemed to be heard at thedoor, and next inside the door. He looked round, beheld and recognizedthe figure he had been told of. It was standing and signaling to himwith its finger, as though inviting him. He, in reply, made a sign withhis hand that it should wait a moment, and applied himself afresh tohis tablets and pen. Upon this the figure kept rattling its chains overhis head as he wrote. On looking round again, he saw it making the samesignal as before, and without delay took up a light and followed it. Itmoved with a slow step, as though oppressed by its chains, and, afterturning into the courtyard of the house, vanished suddenly and left hiscompany. On being thus left to himself, he marked the spot with somegrass and leaves which he plucked. Next day he applied to themagistrates, and urged them to have the spot in question dug up. Therewere found there some bones attached to and intermingled with fetters;the body to which they had belonged, rotted away by time and the soil, had abandoned them thus naked and corroded to the chains. They werecollected and interred at the public expense, and the house was everafterwards free from the spirit, which had obtained due sepulture. 

The above story I believe on the strength of those who affirm it. Whatfollows I am myself in a position to affirm to others. I have afreedman, who is not without some knowledge of letters. A youngerbrother of his was sleeping with him in the same bed. The latterdreamed he saw some one sitting on the couch, who approached a pair ofscissors to his head, and even cut the hair from the crown of it. Whenday dawned he was found to be cropped round the crown, and his lockswere discovered lying about. A very short time afterwards a freshoccurrence of the same kind confirmed the truth of the former one. Alad of mine was sleeping, in company with several others, in the pages'apartment. There came through the windows (so he tells the story) twofigures in white tunics, who cut his hair as he lay, and departed theway they came. In his case, too, daylight exhibited him shorn, and hislocks scattered around. Nothing remarkable followed, except, perhaps, this, that I was not brought under accusation, as I should have been, if Domitian (in whose reign these events happened) had lived longer. For in his desk was found an information against me which had beenpresented by Carus; from which circumstance it may be conjectured--inasmuchas it is the custom of accused persons to let their hair grow--that thecutting off of my slaves' hair was a sign of the danger which threatenedme being averted. 

I beg, then, that you will apply your great learning to this subject. The matter is one which deserves long and deep consideration on yourpart; nor am I, for my part, undeserving of having the fruits of yourwisdom imparted to me. You may even argue on both sides (as your wayis), provided you argue more forcibly on one side than the other, so asnot to dismiss me in suspense and anxiety, when the very cause of myconsulting you has been to have my doubts put an end to.