THE COLLECTION OF ANTIQUITIES

 BY

 HONORE DE BALZAC

 Translated By Ellen Marriage

 DEDICATION

 To Baron Von Hammer-Purgstall, Member of the Aulic Council, Author of the History of the Ottoman Empire. 

 Dear Baron, --You have taken so warm an interest in my long, vast "History of French Manners in the Nineteenth Century, " you have given me so much encouragement to persevere with my work, that you have given me a right to associate your name with some portion of it. Are you not one of the most important representatives of conscientious, studious Germany? Will not your approval win for me the approval of others, and protect this attempt of mine? So proud am I to have gained your good opinion, that I have striven to deserve it by continuing my labors with the unflagging courage characteristic of your methods of study, and of that exhaustive research among documents without which you could never have given your monumental work to the world of letters. Your sympathy with such labor as you yourself have bestowed upon the most brilliant civilization of the East, has often sustained my ardor through nights of toil given to the details of our modern civilization. And will not you, whose naive kindliness can only be compared with that of our own La Fontaine, be glad to know of this?

 May this token of my respect for you and your work find you at Dobling, dear Baron, and put you and yours in mind of one of your most sincere admirers and friends. 

DE BALZAC. 

 THE COLLECTION OF ANTIQUITIES

There stands a house at a corner of a street, in the middle of a town, in one of the least important prefectures in France, but the name ofthe street and the name of the town must be suppressed here. Every onewill appreciate the motives of this sage reticence demanded byconvention; for if a writer takes upon himself the office of annalistof his own time, he is bound to touch on many sore subjects. The housewas called the Hotel d'Esgrignon; but let d'Esgrignon be considered amere fancy name, neither more nor less connected with real people thanthe conventional Belval, Floricour, or Derville of the stage, or theAdalberts and Mombreuses of romance. After all, the names of theprincipal characters will be quite as much disguised; for though inthis history the chronicler would prefer to conceal the facts under amass of contradictions, anachronisms, improbabilities, andabsurdities, the truth will out in spite of him. You uproot avine-stock, as you imagine, and the stem will send up lusty shootsafter you have ploughed your vineyard over. 

The "Hotel d'Esgrignon" was nothing more nor less than the house inwhich the old Marquis lived; or, in the style of ancient documents, Charles Marie Victor Ange Carol, Marquis d'Esgrignon. It was only anordinary house, but the townspeople and tradesmen had begun by callingit the Hotel d'Esgrignon in jest, and ended after a score of years bygiving it that name in earnest. 

The name of Carol, or Karawl, as the Thierrys would have spelt it, wasglorious among the names of the most powerful chieftains of theNorthmen who conquered Gaul and established the feudal system there. Never had Carol bent his head before King or Communes, the Church orFinance. Intrusted in the days of yore with the keeping of a FrenchMarch, the title of marquis in their family meant no shadow ofimaginary office; it had been a post of honor with duties todischarge. Their fief had always been their domain. Provincial nobleswere they in every sense of the word; they might boast of an unbrokenline of great descent; they had been neglected by the court for twohundred years; they were lords paramount in the estates of a provincewhere the people looked up to them with superstitious awe, as to theimage of the Holy Virgin that cures the toothache. The house ofd'Esgrignon, buried in its remote border country, was preserved as thecharred piles of one of Caesar's bridges are maintained intact in ariver bed. For thirteen hundred years the daughters of the house hadbeen married without a dowry or taken the veil; the younger sons ofevery generation had been content with their share of their mother'sdower and gone forth to be captains or bishops; some had made amarriage at court; one cadet of the house became an admiral, a duke, and a peer of France, and died without issue. Never would the Marquisd'Esgrignon of the elder branch accept the title of duke. 

"I hold my marquisate as His Majesty holds the realm of France, and onthe same conditions, " he told the Constable de Luynes, a very paltryfellow in his eyes at that time. 

You may be sure that d'Esgrignons lost their heads on the scaffoldduring the troubles. The old blood showed itself proud and high evenin 1789. The Marquis of that day would not emigrate; he was answerablefor his March. The reverence in which he was held by the countrysidesaved his head; but the hatred of the genuine sans-culottes was strongenough to compel him to pretend to fly, and for a while he lived inhiding. Then, in the name of the Sovereign People, the d'Esgrignonlands were dishonored by the District, and the woods sold by theNation in spite of the personal protest made by the Marquis, thenturned forty. Mlle. D'Esgrignon, his half-sister, saved some portionsof the fief, thanks to the young steward of the family, who claimed onher behalf the partage de presuccession, which is to say, the right ofa relative to a portion of the emigre's lands. To Mlle. D'Esgrignon, therefore, the Republic made over the castle itself and a few farms. Chesnel [Choisnel], the faithful steward, was obliged to buy in hisown name the church, the parsonage house, the castle gardens, andother places to which his patron was attached--the Marquis advancingthe money. 

The slow, swift years of the Terror went by, and the Marquis, whosecharacter had won the respect of the whole country, decided that heand his sister ought to return to the castle and improve the propertywhich Maitre Chesnel--for he was now a notary--had contrived to savefor them out of the wreck. Alas! was not the plundered and dismantledcastle all too vast for a lord of the manor shorn of all his ancientrights; too large for the landowner whose woods had been soldpiecemeal, until he could scarce draw nine thousand francs of incomefrom the pickings of his old estates?

It was in the month of October 1800 that Chesnel brought the Marquisback to the old feudal castle, and saw with deep emotion, almostbeyound his control, his patron standing in the midst of the emptycourtyard, gazing round upon the moat, now filled up with rubbish, andthe castle towers razed to the level of the roof. The descendant ofthe Franks looked for the missing Gothic turrets and the picturesqueweather vanes which used to rise above them; and his eyes turned tothe sky, as if asking of heaven the reason of this social upheaval. Noone but Chesnel could understand the profound anguish of the greatd'Esgrignon, now known as Citizen Carol. For a long while the Marquisstood in silence, drinking in the influences of the place, the ancienthome of his forefathers, with the air that he breathed; then he flungout a most melancholy exclamation. 

"Chesnel, " he said, "we will come back again some day when thetroubles are over; I could not bring myself to live here until theedict of pacification has been published; /they/ will not allow me toset my scutcheon on the wall. "

He waved his hand toward the castle, mounted his horse, and rode backbeside his sister, who had driven over in the notary's shabbybasket-chaise. 

The Hotel d'Esgrignon in the town had been demolished; a couple offactories now stood on the site of the aristocrat's house. So MaitreChesnel spent the Marquis' last bag of louis on the purchase of theold-fashioned building in the square, with its gables, weather-vane, turret, and dovecote. Once it had been the courthouse of thebailiwick, and subsequently the presidial; it had belonged to thed'Esgrignons from generation to generation; and now, in considerationof five hundred louis d'or, the present owner made it over with thetitle given by the Nation to its rightful lord. And so, half in jest, half in earnest, the old house was christened the Hotel d'Esgrignon. 

In 1800 little or no difficulty was made over erasing names from thefatal list, and some few emigres began to return. Among the very firstnobles to come back to the old town were the Baron de Nouastre and hisdaughter. They were completely ruined. M. D'Esgrignon generouslyoffered them the shelter of his roof; and in his house, two monthslater, the Baron died, worn out with grief. The Nouastres came ofthe best blood in the province; Mlle. De Nouastre was a girl oftwo-and-twenty; the Marquis d'Esgrignon married her to continue hisline. But she died in childbirth, a victim to the unskilfulness of herphysician, leaving, most fortunately, a son to bear the name of thed'Esgrignons. The old Marquis--he was but fifty-three, but adversityand sharp distress had added months to every year--the poor oldMarquis saw the death of the loveliest of human creatures, a noblewoman in whom the charm of the feminine figures of the sixteenthcentury lived again, a charm now lost save to men's imaginations. Withher death the joy died out of his old age. It was one of thoseterrible shocks which reverberate through every moment of the yearsthat follow. For a few moments he stood beside the bed where his wifelay, with her hands folded like a saint, then he kissed her on theforehead, turned away, drew out his watch, broke the mainspring, andhung it up beside the hearth. It was eleven o'clock in the morning. 

"Mlle. D'Esgrignon, " he said, "let us pray God that this hour may notprove fatal yet again to our house. My uncle the archbishop wasmurdered at this hour; at this hour also my father died----"

He knelt down beside the bed and buried his face in the coverlet; hissister did the same, in another moment they both rose to their feet. Mlle. D'Esgrignon burst into tears; but the old Marquis looked withdry eyes at the child, round the room, and again on his dead wife. Tothe stubbornness of the Frank he united the fortitude of a Christian. 

These things came to pass in the second year of the nineteenthcentury. Mlle. D'Esgrignon was then twenty-seven years of age. She wasa beautiful woman. An ex-contractor for forage to the armies of theRepublic, a man of the district, with an income of six thousandfrancs, persuaded Chesnel to carry a proposal of marriage to the lady. The Marquis and his sister were alike indignant with such presumptionin their man of business, and Chesnel was almost heartbroken; he couldnot forgive himself for yielding to the Sieur du Croisier's [duBousquier] blandishments. The Marquis' manner with his old servantchanged somewhat; never again was there quite the old affectionatekindliness, which might almost have been taken for friendship. Fromthat time forth the Marquis was grateful, and his magnanimous andsincere gratitude continually wounded the poor notary's feelings. Tosome sublime natures gratitude seems an excessive payment; they wouldrather have that sweet equality of feeling which springs from similarways of thought, and the blending of two spirits by their own choiceand will. And Maitre Chesnel had known the delights of such highfriendship; the Marquis had raised him to his own level. The old noblelooked on the good notary as something more than a servant, somethingless than a child; he was the voluntary liege man of the house, a serfbound to his lord by all the ties of affection. There was no balancingof obligations; the sincere affection on either side put them out ofthe question. 

In the eyes of the Marquis, Chesnel's official dignity was as nothing;his old servitor was merely disguised as a notary. As for Chesnel, theMarquis was now, as always, a being of a divine race; he believed innobility; he did not blush to remember that his father had thrown openthe doors of the salon to announce that "My Lord Marquis is served. "His devotion to the fallen house was due not so much to his creed asto egoism; he looked on himself as one of the family. So his vexationwas intense. Once he had ventured to allude to his mistake in spiteof the Marquis' prohibition, and the old noble answered gravely--"Chesnel, before the troubles you would not have permitted yourselfto entertain such injurious suppositions. What can these new doctrinesbe if they have spoiled /you/?"

Maitre Chesnel had gained the confidence of the whole town; peoplelooked up to him; his high integrity and considerable fortunecontributed to make him a person of importance. From that time forthhe felt a very decided aversion for the Sieur du Crosier; and thoughthere was little rancor in his composition, he set others against thesometime forage-contractor. Du Croisier, on the other hand, was a manto bear a grudge and nurse a vengeance for a score of years. He hatedChesnel and the d'Esgrignon family with the smothered, all-absorbinghate only to be found in a country town. His rebuff had simply ruinedhim with the malicious provincials among whom he had come to live, thinking to rule over them. It was so real a disaster that he was notlong in feeling the consequences of it. He betook himself indesperation to a wealthy old maid, and met with a second refusal. Thusfailed the ambitious schemes with which he had started. He had losthis hope of a marriage with Mlle. D'Esgrignon, which would have openedthe Faubourg Saint-Germain of the province to him; and after thesecond rejection, his credit fell away to such an extent that it wasalmost as much as he could do to keep his position in the second rank. 

In 1805, M. De la Roche-Guyon, the oldest son of an ancient familywhich had previously intermarried with the d'Esgrignons, madeproposals in form through Maitre Chesnel for Mlle. Marie Armande Claird'Esgrignon. She declined to hear the notary. 

"You must have guessed before now that I am a mother, dear Chesnel, "she said; she had just put her nephew, a fine little boy of five, tobed. 

The old Marquis rose and went up to his sister, but just returned fromthe cradle; he kissed her hand reverently, and as he sat down again, found words to say:

"My sister, you are a d'Esgrignon. "

A quiver ran through the noble girl; the tears stood in her eyes. M. D'Esgrignon, the father of the present Marquis, had married a secondwife, the daughter of a farmer of taxes ennobled by Louis XIV. It wasa shocking mesalliance in the eyes of his family, but fortunately ofno importance, since a daughter was the one child of the marriage. Armande knew this. Kind as her brother had always been, he looked onher as a stranger in blood. And this speech of his had just recognizedher as one of the family. 

And was not her answer the worthy crown of eleven years of her noblelife? Her every action since she came of age had borne the stamp ofthe purest devotion; love for her brother was a sort of religion withher. 

"I shall die Mlle. D'Esgrignon, " she said simply, turning to thenotary. 

"For you there could be no fairer title, " returned Chesnel, meaning toconvey a compliment. Poor Mlle. D'Esgrignon reddened. 

"You have blundered, Chesnel, " said the Marquis, flattered by thesteward's words, but vexed that his sister had been hurt. "Ad'Esgrignon may marry a Montmorency; their descent is not so pure asours. The d'Esgrignons bear or, two bends, gules, " he continued, "andnothing during nine hundred years has changed their scutcheon; as itwas at first, so it is to-day. Hence our device, Cil est nostre, takenat a tournament in the reign of Philip Augustus, with the supporters, a knight in armor or on the right, and a lion gules on the left. "

"I do not remember that any woman I have ever met has struck myimagination as Mlle. D'Esgrignon did, " said Emile Blondet, to whomcontemporary literature is indebted for this history among otherthings. "Truth to tell, I was a boy, a mere child at the time, andperhaps my memory-pictures of her owe something of their vivid colorto a boy's natural turn for the marvelous. 

"If I was playing with other children on the Parade, and she came towalk there with her nephew Victurnien, the sight of her in thedistance thrilled me with very much the effect of galvanism on a deadbody. Child as I was, I felt as though new life had been given me. 

"Mlle. Armande had hair of tawny gold; there was a delicate fine downon her cheek, with a silver gleam upon it which I loved to catch, putting myself so that I could see the outlines of her face lit up bythe daylight, and feel the fascination of those dreamy emerald eyes, which sent a flash of fire through me whenever they fell upon my face. I used to pretend to roll on the grass before her in our games, onlyto try to reach her little feet, and admire them on a closer view. Thesoft whiteness of her skin, her delicate features, the clearly cutlines of her forehead, the grace of her slender figure, took me with asense of surprise, while as yet I did not know that her shape wasgraceful, nor her brows beautiful, nor the outline of her face aperfect oval. I admired as children pray at that age, without tooclearly understanding why they pray. When my piercing gaze attractedher notice, when she asked me (in that musical voice of hers, withmore volume in it, as it seemed to me, than all other voices), 'Whatare you doing little one? Why do you look at me?'--I used to comenearer and wriggle and bite my finger-nails, and redden and say, 'I donot know. ' And if she chanced to stroke my hair with her white hand, and ask me how old I was, I would run away and call from a distance, 'Eleven!'

Every princess and fairy of my visions, as I read the Arabian Nights, looked and walked like Mlle. D'Esgrignon; and afterwards, when mydrawing-master gave me heads from the antique to copy, I noticed thattheir hair was braided like Mlle. D'Esgrignon's. Still later, when thefoolish fancies had vanished one by one, Mlle. Armande remainedvaguely in my memory as a type; that Mlle. Armande for whom men madeway respectfully, following the tall brown-robed figure with theireyes along the Parade and out of sight. Her exquisitely graceful form, the rounded curves sometimes revealed by a chance gust of wind, andalways visible to my eyes in spite of the ample folds of stuff, revisited my young man's dreams. Later yet, when I came to thinkseriously over certain mysteries of human thought, it seemed to methat the feeling of reverence was first inspired in me by somethingexpressed in Mlle. D'Esgrignon's face and bearing. The wonderful calmof her face, the suppressed passion in it, the dignity of hermovements, the saintly life of duties fulfilled, --all this touched andawed me. Children are more susceptible than people imagine to thesubtle influences of ideas; they never make game of real dignity; theyfeel the charm of real graciousness, and beauty attracts them, forchildhood itself is beautiful, and there are mysterious ties betweenthings of the same nature. 

"Mlle. D'Esgrignon was one of my religions. To this day I can neverclimb the staircase of some old manor-house but my foolish imaginationmust needs picture Mlle. Armande standing there, like the spirit offeudalism. I can never read old chronicles but she appears before myeyes in the shape of some famous woman of old times; she is AgnesSorel, Marie Touchet, Gabrielle; and I lend her all the love that waslost in her heart, all the love that she never expressed. The angelshape seen in glimpses through the haze of childish fancies visits menow sometimes across the mists of dreams. "

Keep this portrait in mind; it is a faithful picture and sketch ofcharacter. Mlle. D'Esgrignon is one of the most instructive figures inthis story; she affords an example of the mischief that may be done bythe purest goodness for lack of intelligence. 

Two-thirds of the emigres returned to France during 1804 and 1805, andalmost every exile from the Marquis d'Esgrignon's province came backto the land of his fathers. There were certainly defections. Men ofgood birth entered the service of Napoleon, and went into the army orheld places at the Imperial court, and others made alliances with theupstart families. All those who cast in their lots with the Empireretrieved their fortunes and recovered their estates, thanks to theEmperor's munificence; and these for the most part went to Paris andstayed there. But some eight or nine families still remained true tothe proscribed noblesse and loyal to the fallen monarchy. The LaRoche-Guyons, Nouastres, Verneuils, Casterans, Troisvilles, and therest were some of them rich, some of them poor; but money, more orless, scarcely counted for anything among them. They took anantiquarian view of themselves; for them the age and preservation ofthe pedigree was the one all-important matter; precisely as, for anamateur, the weight of metal in a coin is a small matter in comparisonwith clean lettering, a flawless stamp, and high antiquity. Of thesefamilies, the Marquis d'Esgrignon was the acknowledged head. His housebecame their cenacle. There His Majesty, Emperor and King, was neveranything but "M. De Bonaparte"; there "the King" meant Louis XVIII. , then at Mittau; there the Department was still the Province, and theprefecture the intendance. 

The Marquis was honored among them for his admirable behavior, hisloyalty as a noble, his undaunted courage; even as he was respectedthroughout the town for his misfortunes, his fortitude, his steadfastadherence to his political convictions. The man so admirable inadversity was invested with all the majesty of ruined greatness. Hischivalrous fair-mindedness was so well known, that litigants many atime had referred their disputes to him for arbitration. All gentlybred Imperalists and the authorities themselves showed as muchindulgence for his prejudices as respect for his personal character;but there was another and a large section of the new society which wasdestined to be known after the Restoration as the Liberal party; andthese, with du Croisier as their unacknowledged head, laughed at anaristocratic oasis which nobody might enter without proof ofirreproachable descent. Their animosity was all the more bitterbecause honest country squires and the higher officials, with a goodmany worthy folk in the town, were of the opinion that all the bestsociety thereof was to be found in the Marquis d'Esgrignon's salon. The prefect himself, the Emperor's chamberlain, made overtures to thed'Esgrignons, humbly sending his wife (a Grandlieu) as ambassadress. 

Wherefore, those excluded from the miniature provincial FaubourgSaint-Germain nicknamed the salon "The Collection of Antiquities, " andcalled the Marquis himself "M. Carol. " The receiver of taxes, forinstance, addressed his applications to "M. Carol (ci-devant desGrignons), " maliciously adopting the obsolete way of spelling. 

"For my own part, " said Emile Blondet, "if I try to recall mychildhood memories, I remember that the nickname of 'Collection ofAntiquities' always made me laugh, in spite of my respect--my love, Iought to say--for Mlle. D'Esgrignon. The Hotel d'Esgrignon stood atthe angle of two of the busiest thoroughfares in the town, and notfive hundred paces away from the market place. Two of the drawing-roomwindows looked upon the street and two upon the square; the room waslike a glass cage, every one who came past could look through it fromside to side. I was only a boy of twelve at the time, but I thought, even then, that the salon was one of those rare curiosities whichseem, when you come to think of them afterwards, to lie just on theborderland between reality and dreams, so that you can scarcely tellto which side they most belong. 

"The room, the ancient Hall of Audience, stood above a row of cellarswith grated air-holes, once the prison cells of the old court-house, now converted into a kitchen. I do not know that the magnificent loftychimney-piece of the Louvre, with its marvelous carving, seemed morewonderful to me than the vast open hearth of the salon d'Esgrignonwhen I saw it for the first time. It was covered like a melon with anetwork of tracery. Over it stood an equestrian portrait of HenriIII. , under whom the ancient duchy of appanage reverted to the crown;it was a great picture executed in low relief, and set in a carved andgilded frame. The ceiling spaces between the chestnut cross-beams inthe fine old roof were decorated with scroll-work patterns; there wasa little faded gilding still left along the angles. The walls werecovered with Flemish tapestry, six scenes from the Judgment ofSolomon, framed in golden garlands, with satyrs and cupids playingamong the leaves. The parquet floor had been laid down by the presentMarquis, and Chesnel had picked up the furniture at sales of thewreckage of old chateaux between 1793 and 1795; so that there wereLouis Quatorze consoles, tables, clock-cases, andirons, candle-sconcesand tapestry-covered chairs, which marvelously completed a statelyroom, large out of all proportion to the house. Luckily, however, there was an equally lofty ante-chamber, the ancient Salle des PasPerdus of the presidial, which communicated likewise with themagistrate's deliberating chamber, used by the d'Esgrignons as adining-room. 

"Beneath the old paneling, amid the threadbare braveries of a bygoneday, some eight or ten dowagers were drawn up in state in a quaveringline; some with palsied heads, others dark and shriveled like mummies;some erect and stiff, others bowed and bent, but all of them trickedout in more or less fantastic costumes as far as possible removed fromthe fashion of the day, with be-ribboned caps above their curled andpowdered 'heads, ' and old discolored lace. No painter however earnest, no caricature however wild, ever caught the haunting fascination ofthose aged women; they come back to me in dreams; their puckered facesshape themselves in my memory whenever I meet an old woman who puts mein mind of them by some faint resemblance of dress or feature. Andwhether it is that misfortune has initiated me into the secrets ofirremediable and overwhelming disaster; whether that I have come tounderstand the whole range of human feelings, and, best of all, thethoughts of Old Age and Regret; whatever the reason, nowhere and neveragain have I seen among the living or in the faces of the dying thewan look of certain gray eyes that I remember, nor the dreadfulbrightness of others that were black. 

"Neither Hoffmann nor Maturin, the two weirdest imaginations of ourtime, ever gave me such a thrill of terror as I used to feel when Iwatched the automaton movements of those bodies sheathed in whalebone. The paint on actors' faces never caused me a shock; I could see belowit the rouge in grain, the rouge de naissance, to quote a comrade atleast as malicious as I can be. Years had leveled those women's faces, and at the same time furrowed them with wrinkles, till they lookedlike the heads on wooden nutcrackers carved in Germany. Peepingin through the window-panes, I gazed at the battered bodies, andill-jointed limbs (how they were fastened together, and, indeed, their whole anatomy was a mystery I never attempted to explain); I sawthe lantern jaws, the protuberant bones, the abnormal development ofthe hips; and the movements of these figures as they came and wentseemed to me no whit less extraordinary than their sepulchralimmobility as they sat round the card-tables. 

"The men looked gray and faded like the ancient tapestries on thewall, in dress they were much more like the men of the day, but eventhey were not altogether convincingly alive. Their white hair, theirwithered waxen-hued faces, their devastated foreheads and pale eyes, revealed their kinship to the women, and neutralized any effects ofreality borrowed from their costume. 

"The very certainty of finding all these folk seated at or among thetables every day at the same hours invested them at length in my eyeswith a sort of spectacular interest as it were; there was somethingtheatrical, something unearthly about them. 

"Whenever, in after times, I have gone through museums of oldfurniture in Paris, London, Munich, or Vienna, with the gray-headedcustodian who shows you the splendors of time past, I have peopled therooms with figures from the Collection of Antiquities. Often, aslittle schoolboys of eight or ten we used to propose to go and take alook at the curiosities in their glass cage, for the fun of the thing. But as soon as I caught sight of Mlle. Armande's sweet face, I used totremble; and there was a trace of jealousy in my admiration for thelovely child Victurnien, who belonged, as we all instinctively felt, to a different and higher order of being from our own. It struck me assomething indescribably strange that the young fresh creature shouldbe there in that cemetery awakened before the time. We could not haveexplained our thoughts to ourselves, yet we felt that we werebourgeois and insignificant in the presence of that proud court. "

The disasters of 1813 and 1814, which brought about the downfall ofNapoleon, gave new life to the Collection of Antiquities, and what wasmore than life, the hope of recovering their past importance; but theevents of 1815, the troubles of the foreign occupation, and thevacillating policy of the Government until the fall of M. Decazes, allcontributed to defer the fulfilment of the expectations of thepersonages so vividly described by Blondet. This story, therefore, only begins to shape itself in 1822. 

In 1822 the Marquis d'Esgrignon's fortunes had not improved in spiteof the changes worked by the Restoration in the condition of emigres. Of all the nobles hardly hit by Revolutionary legislation, his casewas the hardest. Like other great families, the d'Esgrignons before1789 derived the greater part of their income from their rights aslords of the manor in the shape of dues paid by those who held ofthem; and, naturally, the old seigneurs had reduced the size of theholdings in order to swell the amounts paid in quit-rents and heriots. Families in this position were hopelessly ruined. They were notaffected by the ordinance by which Louis XVIII. Put the emigres intopossession of such of their lands as had not been sold; and at a laterdate it was impossible that the law of indemnity should indemnifythem. Their suppressed rights, as everybody knows, were revived in theshape of a land tax known by the very name of domaines, but the moneywent into the coffers of the State. 

The Marquis by his position belonged to that small section of theRoyalist party which would hear of no kind of compromise with thosewhom they styled, not Revolutionaries, but revolted subjects, or, inmore parliamentary language, they had no dealings with Liberals orConstitutionnels. Such Royalists, nicknamed Ultras by the opposition, took for leaders and heroes those courageous orators of the Right, whofrom the very beginning attempted, with M. De Polignac, to protestagainst the charter granted by Louis XVIII. This they regarded as anill-advised edict extorted from the Crown by the necessity of themoment, only to be annulled later on. And, therefore, so far fromco-operating with the King to bring about a new condition of things, the Marquis d'Esgrignon stood aloof, an upholder of the straitest sectof the Right in politics, until such time as his vast fortune shouldbe restored to him. Nor did he so much as admit the thought of theindemnity which filled the minds of the Villele ministry, and formed apart of a design of strengthening the Crown by putting an end to thosefatal distinctions of ownership which still lingered on in spite oflegislation. 

The miracles of the Restoration of 1814, the still greater miracle ofNapoleon's return in 1815, the portents of a second flight of theBourbons, and a second reinstatement (that almost fabulous phase ofcontemporary history), all these things took the Marquis bysurprise at the age of sixty-seven. At that time of life, the mosthigh-spirited men of their age were not so much vanquished as worn outin the struggle with the Revolution; their activity, in their remoteprovincial retreats, had turned into a passionately held and immovableconviction; and almost all of them were shut in by the enervating, easy round of daily life in the country. Could worse luck befall apolitical party than this--to be represented by old men at a time whenits ideas are already stigmatized as old-fashioned?

When the legitimate sovereign appeared to be firmly seated on thethrone again in 1818, the Marquis asked himself what a man of seventyshould do at court; and what duties, what office he could dischargethere? The noble and high-minded d'Esgrignon was fain to be contentwith the triumph of the Monarchy and Religion, while he waited for theresults of that unhoped-for, indecisive victory, which proved to besimply an armistice. He continued as before, lord-paramount of hissalon, so felicitously named the Collection of Antiquities. 

But when the victors of 1793 became the vanquished in their turn, thenickname given at first in jest began to be used in bitter earnest. The town was no more free than other country towns from the hatredsand jealousies bred of party spirit. Du Croisier, contrary to allexpectation, married the old maid who had refused him at first;carrying her off from his rival, the darling of the aristocraticquarter, a certain Chevalier whose illustrious name will besufficiently hidden by suppressing it altogether, in accordance withthe usage formerly adopted in the place itself, where he was known byhis title only. He was "the Chevalier" in the town, as the Comted'Artois was "Monsieur" at court. Now, not only had that marriageproduced a war after the provincial manner, in which all weapons arefair; it had hastened the separation of the great and little noblesse, of the aristocratic and bourgeois social elements, which had beenunited for a little space by the heavy weight of Napoleonic rule. After the pressure was removed, there followed that sudden revival ofclass divisions which did so much harm to the country. 

The most national of all sentiments in France is vanity. The woundedvanity of the many induced a thirst for Equality; though, as the mostardent innovator will some day discover, Equality is an impossibility. The Royalists pricked the Liberals in the most sensitive spots, andthis happened specially in the provinces, where either party accusedthe other of unspeakable atrocities. In those days the blackest deedswere done in politics, to secure public opinion on one side or theother, to catch the votes of that public of fools which holds up handsfor those that are clever enough to serve out weapons to them. Individuals are identified with their political opinions, andopponents in public life forthwith became private enemies. It is verydifficult in a country town to avoid a man-to-man conflict of thiskind over interests or questions which in Paris appear in a moregeneral and theoretical form, with the result that politicalcombatants also rise to a higher level; M. Laffitte, for example, orM. Casimir-Perier can respect M. De Villele or M. De Payronnet as aman. M. Laffitte, who drew the fire on the Ministry, would have giventhem an asylum in his house if they had fled thither on the 29th ofJuly 1830. Benjamin Constant sent a copy of his work on Religion tothe Vicomte de Chateaubriand, with a flattering letter acknowledgingbenefits received from the former Minister. At Paris men are systems, whereas in the provinces systems are identified with men; men, moreover, with restless passions, who must always confront oneanother, always spy upon each other in private life, and pull theiropponents' speeches to pieces, and live generally like two duelistson the watch for a chance to thrust six inches of steel between anantagonist's ribs. Each must do his best to get under his enemy'sguard, and a political hatred becomes as all-absorbing as a duel tothe death. Epigram and slander are used against individuals to bringthe party into discredit. 

In such warfare as this, waged ceremoniously and without rancor on theside of the Antiquities, while du Croisier's faction went so far as touse the poisoned weapons of savages--in this warfare the advantages ofwit and delicate irony lay on the side of the nobles. But it shouldnever be forgotten that the wounds made by the tongue and the eyes, bygibe or slight, are the last of all to heal. When the Chevalier turnedhis back on mixed society and entrenched himself on the Mons Sacer ofthe aristocracy, his witticisms thenceforward were directed at duCroisier's salon; he stirred up the fires of war, not knowing how farthe spirit of revenge was to urge the rival faction. None but puristsand loyal gentlemen and women sure one of another entered the Hoteld'Esgrignon; they committed no indiscretions of any kind; they hadtheir ideas, true or false, good or bad, noble or trivial, but therewas nothing to laugh at in all this. If the Liberals meant to make thenobles ridiculous, they were obliged to fasten on the politicalactions of their opponents; while the intermediate party, composed ofofficials and others who paid court to the higher powers, kept thenobles informed of all that was done and said in the Liberal camp, andmuch of it was abundantly laughable. Du Croisier's adherents smartedunder a sense of inferiority, which increased their thirst forrevenge. 

In 1822, du Croisier put himself at the head of the manufacturinginterest of the province, as the Marquis d'Esgrignon headed thenoblesse. Each represented his party. But du Croisier, instead ofgiving himself out frankly for a man of the extreme Left, ostensiblyadopted the opinions formulated at a later date by the 221 deputies. 

By taking up this position, he could keep in touch with themagistrates and local officials and the capitalists of the department. Du Croisier's salon, a power at least equal to the salon d'Esgrignon, larger numerically, as well as younger and more energetic, made itselffelt all over the countryside; the Collection of Antiquities, on theother hand, remained inert, a passive appendage, as it were, of acentral authority which was often embarrassed by its own partisans;for not merely did they encourage the Government in a mistaken policy, but some of its most fatal blunders were made in consequence of thepressure brought to bear upon it by the Conservative party. 

The Liberals, so far, had never contrived to carry their candidate. The department declined to obey their command knowing that duCroisier, if elected, would take his place on the Left Centre benches, and as far as possible to the Left. Du Croisier was in correspondencewith the Brothers Keller, the bankers, the oldest of whom shoneconspicuous among "the nineteen deputies of the Left, " that phalanxmade famous by the efforts of the entire Liberal press. This same M. Keller, moreover, was related by marriage to the Comte de Gondreville, a Constitutional peer who remained in favor with Louis XVIII. Forthese reasons, the Constitutional Opposition (as distinct from theLiberal party) was always prepared to vote at the last moment, not forthe candidate whom they professed to support, but for du Croisier, ifthat worthy could succeed in gaining a sufficient number of Royalistvotes; but at every election du Croisier was regularly thrown out bythe Royalists. The leaders of that party, taking their tone from theMarquis d'Esgrignon, had pretty thoroughly fathomed and gauged theirman; and with each defeat, du Croisier and his party waxed morebitter. Nothing so effectually stirs up strife as the failure of somesnare set with elaborate pains. 

In 1822 there seemed to be a lull in hostilities which had been keptup with great spirit during the first four years of the Restoration. The salon du Croisier and the salon d'Esgrignon, having measured theirstrength and weakness, were in all probability waiting foropportunity, that Providence of party strife. Ordinary persons werecontent with the surface quiet which deceived the Government; butthose who knew du Croisier better, were well aware that the passion ofrevenge in him, as in all men whose whole life consists in mentalactivity, is implacable, especially when political ambitions areinvolved. About this time du Croisier, who used to turn white and redat the bare mention of d'Esgrignon or the Chevalier, and shuddered atthe name of the Collection of Antiquities, chose to wear the impassivecountenance of a savage. He smiled upon his enemies, hating them butthe more deeply, watching them the more narrowly from hour to hour. One of his own party, who seconded him in these calculations of coldwrath, was the President of the Tribunal, M. Du Ronceret, a littlecountry squire, who had vainly endeavored to gain admittance among theAntiquities. 

The d'Esgrignons' little fortune, carefully administered by MaitreChesnel, was barely sufficient for the worthy Marquis' needs; forthough he lived without the slightest ostentation, he also lived likea noble. The governor found by his Lordship the Bishop for the hope ofthe house, the young Comte Victurnien d'Esgrignon, was an elderlyOratorian who must be paid a certain salary, although he lived withthe family. The wages of a cook, a waiting-woman for Mlle. Armande, anold valet for M. Le Marquis, and a couple of other servants, togetherwith the daily expenses of the household, and the cost of an educationfor which nothing was spared, absorbed the whole family income, inspite of Mlle. Armande's economies, in spite of Chesnel's carefulmanagement, and the servants' affection. As yet, Chesnel had not beenable to set about repairs at the ruined castle; he was waiting tillthe leases fell in to raise the rent of the farms, for rents had beenrising lately, partly on account of improved methods of agriculture, partly by the fall in the value of money, of which the landlord wouldget the benefit at the expiration of leases granted in 1809. 

The Marquis himself knew nothing of the details of the management ofthe house or of his property. He would have been thunderstruck if hehad been told of the excessive precautions needed "to make both endsof the year meet in December, " to use the housewife's saying, and hewas so near the end of his life, that every one shrank from openinghis eyes. The Marquis and his adherents believed that a House, towhich no one at Court or in the Government gave a thought, a Housethat was never heard of beyond the gates of the town, save here andthere in the same department, was about to revive its ancientgreatness, to shine forth in all its glory. The d'Esgrignons' lineshould appear with renewed lustre in the person of Victurnien, just asthe despoiled nobles came into their own again, and the handsome heirto a great estate would be in a position to go to Court, enter theKing's service, and marry (as other d'Esgrignons had done before him)a Navarreins, a Cadignan, a d'Uxelles, a Beausant, a Blamont-Chauvry;a wife, in short, who should unite all the distinctions of birth andbeauty, wit and wealth, and character. 

The intimates who came to play their game of cards of an evening--theTroisvilles (pronounced Treville), the La Roche-Guyons, the Casterans(pronounced Cateran), and the Duc de Verneuil--had all so long beenaccustomed to look up to the Marquis as a person of immenseconsequence, that they encouraged him in such notions as these. Theywere perfectly sincere in their belief; and indeed, it would have beenwell founded if they could have wiped out the history of the lastforty years. But the most honorable and undoubted sanctions of right, such as Louis XVIII. Had tried to set on record when he dated theCharter from the one-and-twentieth year of his reign, only exist whenratified by the general consent. The d'Esgrignons not only lacked thevery rudiments of the language of latter-day politics, to wit, money, the great modern /relief/, or sufficient rehabilitation of nobility;but, in their case, too, "historical continuity" was lacking, and thatis a kind of renown which tells quite as much at Court as on thebattlefield, in diplomatic circles as in Parliament, with a book, orin connection with an adventure; it is, as it were, a sacred ampullapoured upon the heads of each successive generation. Whereas a noblefamily, inactive and forgotten, is very much in the position of ahard-featured, poverty-stricken, simple-minded, and virtuous maid, these qualifications being the four cardinal points of misfortune. Themarriage of a daughter of the Troisvilles with General Montcornet, sofar from opening the eyes of the Antiquities, very nearly broughtabout a rupture between the Troisvilles and the salon d'Esgrignon, thelatter declaring that the Troisvilles were mixing themselves up withall sorts of people. 

There was one, and one only, among all these folk who did not sharetheir illusions. And that one, needless to say, was Chesnel thenotary. Although his devotion, sufficiently proved already, was simplyunbounded for the great house now reduced to three persons; althoughhe accepted all their ideas, and thought them nothing less than right, he had too much common sense, he was too good a man of business tomore than half the families in the department, to miss thesignificance of the great changes that were taking place in people'sminds, or to be blind to the different conditions brought about byindustrial development and modern manners. He had watched theRevolution pass through the violent phase of 1793, when men, women, and children wore arms, and heads fell on the scaffold, and victorieswere won in pitched battles with Europe; and now he saw the sameforces quietly at work in men's minds, in the shape of ideas whichsanctioned the issues. The soil had been cleared, the seed sown, andnow came the harvest. To his thinking, the Revolution had formed themind of the younger generation; he touched the hard facts, and knewthat although there were countless unhealed wounds, what had been donewas past recall. The death of a king on the scaffold, the protractedagony of a queen, the division of the nobles' lands, in his eyes wereso many binding contracts; and where so many vested interests wereinvolved, it was not likely that those concerned would allow them tobe attacked. Chesnel saw clearly. His fanatical attachment to thed'Esgrignons was whole-hearted, but it was not blind, and it was allthe fairer for this. The young monk's faith that sees heaven laid openand beholds the angels, is something far below the power of the oldmonk who points them out to him. The ex-steward was like the old monk;he would have given his life to defend a worm-eaten shrine. 

He tried to explain the "innovations" to his old master, using athousand tactful precautions; sometimes speaking jestingly, sometimesaffecting surprise or sorrow over this or that; but he always met thesame prophetic smile on the Marquis' lips, the same fixed convictionin the Marquis' mind, that these follies would go by like others. Events contributed in a way which has escaped attention to assist suchnoble champions of forlorn hope to cling to their superstitions. Whatcould Chesnel do when the old Marquis said, with a lordly gesture, "God swept away Bonaparte with his armies, his new great vassals, hiscrowned kings, and his vast conceptions! God will deliver us from therest. " And Chesnel hung his head sadly, and did not dare to answer, "It cannot be God's will to sweep away France. " Yet both of them weregrand figures; the one, standing out against the torrent of facts likean ancient block of lichen-covered granite, still upright in thedepths of an Alpine gorge; the other, watching the course of the floodto turn it to account. Then the good gray-headed notary would groanover the irreparable havoc which the superstitions were sure to workin the mind, the habits, and ideas of the Comte Victurniend'Esgrignon. 

Idolized by his father, idolized by his aunt, the young heir was aspoilt child in every sense of the word; but still a spoilt child whojustified paternal and maternal illusions. Maternal, be it said, forVicturnien's aunt was truly a mother to him; and yet, however carefuland tender she may be that never bore a child, there is somethinglacking in her motherhood. A mother's second sight cannot be acquired. An aunt, bound to her nursling by ties of such pure affection asunited Mlle. Armande to Victurnien, may love as much as a mothermight; may be as careful, as kind, as tender, as indulgent, but shelacks the mother's instinctive knowledge when and how to be severe;she has no sudden warnings, none of the uneasy presentiments of themother's heart; for a mother, bound to her child from the beginningsof life by all the fibres of her being, still is conscious of thecommunication, still vibrates with the shock of every trouble, andthrills with every joy in the child's life as if it were her own. IfNature has made of woman, physically speaking, a neutral ground, ithas not been forbidden to her, under certain conditions, to identifyherself completely with her offspring. When she has not merely givenlife, but given of her whole life, you behold that wonderful, unexplained, and inexplicable thing--the love of a woman for one ofher children above the others. The outcome of this story is one moreproof of a proven truth--a mother's place cannot be filled. A motherforesees danger long before a Mlle. Armande can admit the possibilityof it, even if the mischief is done. The one prevents the evil, theother remedies it. And besides, in the maiden's motherhood there is anelement of blind adoration, she cannot bring herself to scold abeautiful boy. 

A practical knowledge of life, and the experience of business, hadtaught the old notary a habit of distrustful clear-sighted observationsomething akin to the mother's instinct. But Chesnel counted for solittle in the house (especially since he had fallen into somethinglike disgrace over that unlucky project of a marriage between ad'Esgrignon and a du Croisier), that he had made up his mind to adhereblindly in future to the family doctrines. He was a common soldier, faithful to his post, and ready to give his life; it was never likelythat they would take his advice, even in the height of the storm;unless chance should bring him, like the King's bedesman in TheAntiquary, to the edge of the sea, when the old baronet and hisdaughter were caught by the high tide. 

Du Croisier caught a glimpse of his revenge in the anomalous educationgiven to the lad. He hoped, to quote the expressive words of theauthor quoted above, "to drown the lamb in its mother's milk. " /This/was the hope which had produced his taciturn resignation and broughtthat savage smile on his lips. 

The young Comte Victurnien was taught to believe in his own supremacyas soon as an idea could enter his head. All the great nobles of therealm were his peers, his one superior was the King, and the rest ofmankind were his inferiors, people with whom he had nothing in common, towards whom he had no duties. They were defeated and conqueredenemies, whom he need not take into account for a moment; theiropinions could not affect a noble, and they all owed him respect. Unluckily, with the rigorous logic of youth, which leads children andyoung people to proceed to extremes whether good or bad, Victurnienpushed these conclusions to their utmost consequences. His ownexternal advantages, moreover, confirmed him in his beliefs. He hadbeen extraordinarily beautiful as a child; he became as accomplished ayoung man as any father could wish. 

He was of average height, but well proportioned, slender, and almostdelicate-looking, but muscular. He had the brilliant blue eyes of thed'Esgrignons, the finely-moulded aquiline nose, the perfect oval ofthe face, the auburn hair, the white skin, and the graceful gait ofhis family; he had their delicate extremities, their long taperfingers with the inward curve, and that peculiar distinction ofshapeliness of the wrist and instep, that supple felicity of line, which is as sure a sign of race in men as in horses. Adroit and alertin all bodily exercises, and an excellent shot, he handled arms like aSt. George, he was a paladin on horseback. In short, he gratified thepride which parents take in their children's appearance; a pridefounded, for that matter, on a just idea of the enormous influenceexercised by physical beauty. Personal beauty has this in common withnoble birth; it cannot be acquired afterwards; it is everywhererecognized, and often is more valued than either brains or money;beauty has only to appear and triumph; nobody asks more of beauty thanthat it should simply exist. 

Fate had endowed Victurnien, over and above the privileges of goodlooks and noble birth, with a high spirit, a wonderful aptitude ofcomprehension, and a good memory. His education, therefore, had beencomplete. He knew a good deal more than is usually known by youngprovincial nobles, who develop into highly-distinguished sportsmen, owners of land, and consumers of tobacco; and are apt to treat art, sciences, letters, poetry, or anything offensively above theirintellects, cavalierly enough. Such gifts of nature and educationsurely would one day realize the Marquis d'Esgrignon's ambitions; healready saw his son a Marshal of France if Victurnien's tastes werefor the army; an ambassador if diplomacy held any attractions for him;a cabinet minister if that career seemed good in his eyes; every placein the state belonged to Victurnien. And, most gratifying thought ofall for a father, the young Count would have made his way in the worldby his own merits even if he had not been a d'Esgrignon. 

All through his happy childhood and golden youth, Victurnien had nevermet with opposition to his wishes. He had been the king of the house;no one curbed the little prince's will; and naturally he grew upinsolent and audacious, selfish as a prince, self-willed as the mosthigh-spirited cardinal of the Middle Ages, --defects of character whichany one might guess from his qualities, essentially those of thenoble. 

The Chevalier was a man of the good old times when the Gray Musketeerswere the terror of the Paris theatres, when they horsewhipped thewatch and drubbed servers of writs, and played a host of page'spranks, at which Majesty was wont to smile so long as they wereamusing. This charming deceiver and hero of the ruelles had no smallshare in bringing about the disasters which afterwards befell. Theamiable old gentleman, with nobody to understand him, was not a littlepleased to find a budding Faublas, who looked the part to admiration, and put him in mind of his own young days. So, making no allowance forthe difference of the times, he sowed the maxims of a roue of theEncyclopaedic period broadcast in the boy's mind. He told wickedanecdotes of the reign of His Majesty Louis XV. ; he glorified themanners and customs of the year 1750; he told of the orgies in petitesmaisons, the follies of courtesans, the capital tricks played oncreditors, the manners, in short, which furnished forth Dancourt'scomedies and Beaumarchais' epigrams. And unfortunately, the corruptionlurking beneath the utmost polish tricked itself out in Voltaireanwit. If the Chevalier went rather too far at times, he always added asa corrective that a man must always behave himself like a gentleman. 

Of all this discourse, Victurnien comprehended just so much asflattered his passions. From the first he saw his old father laughingwith the Chevalier. The two elderly men considered that the pride of ad'Esgrignon was a sufficient safeguard against anything unbefitting;as for a dishonorable action, no one in the house imagined that ad'Esgrignon could be guilty of it. /Honor/, the great principle ofMonarchy, was planted firm like a beacon in the hearts of the family;it lighted up the least action, it kindled the least thought of ad'Esgrignon. "A d'Esgrignon ought not to permit himself to do such andsuch a thing; he bears a name which pledges him to make a futureworthy of the past"--a noble teaching which should have beensufficient in itself to keep alive the tradition of noblesse--hadbeen, as it were, the burden of Victurnien's cradle song. He heardthem from the old Marquis, from Mlle. Armande, from Chesnel, from theintimates of the house. And so it came to pass that good and evil met, and in equal forces, in the boy's soul. 

At the age of eighteen, Victurnien went into society. He noticed someslight discrepancies between the outer world of the town and the innerworld of the Hotel d'Esgrignon, but he in no wise tried to seek thecauses of them. And, indeed, the causes were to be found in Paris. Hehad yet to learn that the men who spoke their minds out so boldly inevening talk with his father, were extremely careful of what they saidin the presence of the hostile persons with whom their interestscompelled them to mingle. His own father had won the right of freedomof speech. Nobody dreamed of contradicting an old man of seventy, andbesides, every one was willing to overlook fidelity to the old orderof things in a man who had been violently despoiled. 

Victurnien was deceived by appearances, and his behavior set up thebacks of the townspeople. In his impetuous way he tried to carrymatters with too high a hand over some difficulties in the way ofsport, which ended in formidable lawsuits, hushed up by Chesnel formoney paid down. Nobody dared to tell the Marquis of these things. Youmay judge of his astonishment if he had heard that his son had beenprosecuted for shooting over his lands, his domains, his covers, underthe reign of a son of St. Louis! People were too much afraid of thepossible consequences to tell him about such trifles, Chesnel said. 

The young Count indulged in other escapades in the town. These theChevalier regarded as "amourettes, " but they cost Chesnel somethingconsiderable in portions for forsaken damsels seduced under imprudentpromises of marriage: yet other cases there were which came under anarticle of the Code as to the abduction of minors; and but forChesnel's timely intervention, the new law would have been allowed totake its brutal course, and it is hard to say where the Count mighthave ended. Victurnien grew the bolder for these victories overbourgeois justice. He was so accustomed to be pulled out of scrapes, that he never thought twice before any prank. Courts of law, in hisopinion, were bugbears to frighten people who had no hold on him. Things which he would have blamed in common people were for him onlypardonable amusements. His disposition to treat the new lawscavalierly while obeying the maxims of a Code for aristocrats, hisbehavior and character, were all pondered, analyzed, and tested by afew adroit persons in du Croisier's interests. These folk supportedeach other in the effort to make the people believe that Liberalslanders were revelations, and that the Ministerial policy at bottommeant a return to the old order of things. 

What a bit of luck to find something by way of proof of theirassertions! President du Ronceret, and the public prosecutor likewise, lent themselves admirably, so far as was compatible with their duty asmagistrates, to the design of letting off the offender as easily aspossible; indeed, they went deliberately out of their way to do this, well pleased to raise a Liberal clamor against their overlargeconcessions. And so, while seeming to serve the interests of thed'Esgrignons, they stirred up feeling against them. The treacherous deRonceret had it in his mind to pose as incorruptible at the rightmoment over some serious charge, with public opinion to back him up. The young Count's worst tendencies, moreover, were insidiouslyencouraged by two or three young men who followed in his train, paidcourt to him, won his favor, and flattered and obeyed him, with a viewto confirming his belief in a noble's supremacy; and all this at atime when a noble's one chance of preserving his power lay in using itwith the utmost discretion for half a century to come. 

Du Croisier hoped to reduce the d'Esgrignons to the last extremity ofpoverty; he hoped to see their castle demolished, and their lands soldpiecemeal by auction, through the follies which this harebrained boywas pretty certain to commit. This was as far as he went; he did notthink, with President du Ronceret, that Victurnien was likely to givejustice another kind of hold upon him. Both men found an ally fortheir schemes of revenge in Victurnien's overweening vanity and loveof pleasure. President du Ronceret's son, a lad of seventeen, wasadmirably fitted for the part of instigator. He was one of the Count'scompanions, a new kind of spy in du Croisier's pay; du Croisier taughthim his lesson, set him to track down the noble and beautiful boythrough his better qualities, and sardonically prompted him toencourage his victim in his worst faults. Fabien du Ronceret was asophisticated youth, to whom such a mystification was attractive; hehad precisely the keen brain and envious nature which finds in such apursuit as this the absorbing amusement which a man of an ingeniousturn lacks in the provinces. 

In three years, between the ages of eighteen and one-and-twenty, Victurnien cost poor Chesnel nearly eighty thousand francs! And thiswithout the knowledge of Mlle. Armande or the Marquis. More than halfof the money had been spent in buying off lawsuits; the lad'sextravagance had squandered the rest. Of the Marquis' income of tenthousand livres, five thousand were necessary for the housekeeping;two thousand more represented Mlle. Armande's allowance (parsimoniousthough she was) and the Marquis' expenses. The handsome youngheir-presumptive, therefore, had not a hundred louis to spend. And whatsort of figure can a man make on two thousand livres? Victurnien'stailor's bills alone absorbed his whole allowance. He had his linen, his clothes, gloves, and perfumery from Paris. He wanted a goodEnglish saddle-horse, a tilbury, and a second horse. M. Du Croisierhad a tilbury and a thoroughbred. Was the bourgeoisie to cut out thenoblesse? Then, the young Count must have a man in the d'Esgrignonlivery. He prided himself on setting the fashion among young men inthe town and the department; he entered that world of luxuries andfancies which suit youth and good looks and wit so well. Chesnel paidfor it all, not without using, like ancient parliaments, the right ofprotest, albeit he spoke with angelic kindness. 

"What a pity it is that so good a man should be so tiresome!"Victurnien would say to himself every time that the notary staunchedsome wound in his purse. 

Chesnel had been left a widower, and childless; he had taken his oldmaster's son to fill the void in his heart. It was a pleasure to himto watch the lad driving up the High Street, perched aloft on thebox-seat of the tilbury, whip in hand, and a rose in his button-hole, handsome, well turned out, envied by every one. 

Pressing need would bring Victurnien with uneasy eyes and coaxingmanner, but steady voice, to the modest house in the Rue du Bercail;there had been losses at cards at the Troisvilles, or the Duc deVerneuil's, or the prefecture, or the receiver-general's, and theCount had come to his providence, the notary. He had only to showhimself to carry the day. 

"Well, what is it, M. Le Comte? What has happened?" the old man wouldask, with a tremor in his voice. 

On great occasions Victurnien would sit down, assume a melancholy, pensive expression, and submit with little coquetries of voice andgesture to be questioned. Then when he had thoroughly roused the oldman's fears (for Chesnel was beginning to fear how such a course ofextravagance would end), he would own up to a peccadillo which a billfor a thousand francs would absolve. Chesnel possessed a privateincome of some twelve thousand livres, but the fund was notinexhaustible. The eighty thousand francs thus squandered representedhis savings, accumulated for the day when the Marquis should send hisson to Paris, or open negotiations for a wealthy marriage. 

Chesnel was clear-sighted so long as Victurnien was not there beforehim. One by one he lost the illusions which the Marquis and his sisterstill fondly cherished. He saw that the young fellow could not bedepended upon in the least, and wished to see him married to somemodest, sensible girl of good birth, wondering within himself how ayoung man could mean so well and do so ill, for he made promises oneday only to break them all on the next. 

But there is never any good to be expected of young men who confesstheir sins and repent, and straightway fall into them again. A man ofstrong character only confesses his faults to himself, and punisheshimself for them; as for the weak, they drop back into the old rutswhen they find that the bank is too steep to climb. The springs ofpride which lie in a great man's secret soul had been slackened inVicturnien. With such guardians as he had, such company as he kept, such a life as he led, he had suddenly became an enervated voluptuaryat that turning-point in his life when a man most stands in need ofthe harsh discipline of misfortune and adversity which formed a PrinceEugene, a Frederick II. , a Napoleon. Chesnel saw that Victurnienpossessed that uncontrollable appetite for enjoyments which should bethe prerogative of men endowed with giant powers; the men who feel theneed of counterbalancing their gigantic labors by pleasures whichbring one-sided mortals to the pit. 

At times the good man stood aghast; then, again, some profound sally, some sign of the lad's remarkable range of intellect, would reassurehim. He would say, as the Marquis said at the rumor of some escapade, "Boys will be boys. " Chesnel had spoken to the Chevalier, lamentingthe young lord's propensity for getting into debt; but the Chevaliermanipulated his pinch of snuff, and listened with a smile ofamusement. 

"My dear Chesnel, just explain to me what a national debt is, " heanswered. "If France has debts, egad! why should not Victurnien havedebts? At this time and at all times princes have debts, everygentleman has debts. Perhaps you would rather that Victurnien shouldbring you his savings?--Do you know that our great Richelieu (not theCardinal, a pitiful fellow that put nobles to death, but theMarechal), do you know what he did once when his grandson the Princede Chinon, the last of the line, let him see that he had not spent hispocket-money at the University?"

"No, M. Le Chevalier. "

"Oh, well; he flung the purse out of the window to a sweeper in thecourtyard, and said to his grandson, 'Then they do not teach you to bea prince here?'"

Chesnel bent his head and made no answer. But that night, as he layawake, he thought that such doctrines as these were fatal in timeswhen there was one law for everybody, and foresaw the first beginningsof the ruin of the d'Esgrignons. 

But for these explanations which depict one side of provincial life inthe time of the Empire and the Restoration, it would not be easy tounderstand the opening scene of this history, an incident which tookplace in the great salon one evening towards the end of October 1822. The card-tables were forsaken, the Collection of Antiquities--elderlynobles, elderly countesses, young marquises, and simple baronesses--had settled their losses and winnings. The master of the house waspacing up and down the room, while Mlle. Armande was putting out thecandles on the card-tables. He was not taking exercise alone, theChevalier was with him, and the two wrecks of the eighteenth centurywere talking of Victurnien. The Chevalier had undertaken to broach thesubject with the Marquis. 

"Yes, Marquis, " he was saying, "your son is wasting his time and hisyouth; you ought to send him to court. "

"I have always thought, " said the Marquis, "that if my great ageprevents me from going to court--where, between ourselves, I do notknow what I should do among all these new people whom his Majestyreceives, and all that is going on there--that if I could not gomyself, I could at least send my son to present our homage to HisMajesty. The King surely would do something for the Count--give him acompany, for instance, or a place in the Household, a chance, inshort, for the boy to win his spurs. My uncle the Archbishop suffereda cruel martyrdom; I have fought for the cause without deserting thecamp with those who thought it their duty to follow the Princes. Iheld that while the King was in France, his nobles should rally roundhim. --Ah! well, no one gives us a thought; a Henry IV. Would havewritten before now to the d'Esgrignons, 'Come to me, my friends; wehave won the day!'--After all, we are something better than theTroisvilles, yet here are two Troisvilles made peers of France; andanother, I hear, represents the nobles in the Chamber. " (He took theupper electoral colleges for assemblies of his own order. ) "Really, they think no more of us than if we did not exist. I was waiting forthe Princes to make their journey through this part of the world; butas the Princes do not come to us, we must go to the Princes. "

"I am enchanted to learn that you think of introducing our dearVicturnien into society, " the Chevalier put in adroitly. "He ought notto bury his talents in a hole like this town. The best fortune that hecan look for here is to come across some Norman girl" (mimicking theaccent), "country-bred, stupid, and rich. What could he make ofher?--his wife? Oh! good Lord!"

"I sincerely hope that he will defer his marriage until he hasobtained some great office or appointment under the Crown, " returnedthe gray-haired Marquis. "Still, there are serious difficulties in theway. "

And these were the only difficulties which the Marquis saw at theoutset of his son's career. 

"My son, the Comte d'Esgrignon, cannot make his appearance at courtlike a tatterdemalion, " he continued after a pause, marked by a sigh;"he must be equipped. Alas! for these two hundred years we have had noretainers. Ah! Chevalier, this demolition from top to bottom alwaysbrings me back to the first hammer stroke delivered by M. De Mirabeau. The one thing needful nowadays is money; that is all that theRevolution has done that I can see. The King does not ask you whetheryou are a descendant of the Valois or a conquerer of Gaul; he askswhether you pay a thousand francs in tailles which nobles never usedto pay. So I cannot well send the Count to court without a matter oftwenty thousand crowns----"

"Yes, " assented the Chevalier, "with that trifling sum he could cut abrave figure. "

"Well, " said Mlle. Armande, "I have asked Chesnel to come to-night. Would you believe it, Chevalier, ever since the day when Chesnelproposed that I should marry that miserable du Croisier----"

"Ah! that was truly unworthy, mademoiselle!" cried the Chevalier. 

"Unpardonable!" said the Marquis. 

"Well, since then my brother has never brought himself to ask anythingwhatsoever of Chesnel, " continued Mlle. Armande. 

"Of your old household servant? Why, Marquis, you would do Chesnelhonor--an honor which he would gratefully remember till his latestbreath. "

"No, " said the Marquis, "the thing is beneath one's dignity, it seemsto me. "

"There is not much question of dignity; it is a matter of necessity, "said the Chevalier, with the trace of a shrug. 

"Never, " said the Marquis, riposting with a gesture which decided theChevalier to risk a great stroke to open his old friend's eyes. 

"Very well, " he said, "since you do not know it, I will tell youmyself that Chesnel has let your son have something already, somethinglike----"

"My son is incapable of accepting anything whatever from Chesnel, " theMarquis broke in, drawing himself up as he spoke. "He might have cometo /you/ to ask you for twenty-five louis----"

"Something like a hundred thousand livres, " said the Chevalier, finishing his sentence. 

"The Comte d'Esgrignon owes a hundred thousand livres to a Chesnel!"cried the Marquis, with every sign of deep pain. "Oh! if he were notan only son, he should set out to-night for Mexico with a captain'scommission. A man may be in debt to money-lenders, they charge a heavyinterest, and you are quits; that is right enough; but /Chesnel/! a manto whom one is attached!----"

"Yes, our adorable Victurnien has run through a hundred thousandlivres, dear Marquis, " resumed the Chevalier, flicking a trace ofsnuff from his waistcoat; "it is not much, I know. I myself at hisage---- But, after all, let us let old memories be, Marquis. The Countis living in the provinces; all things taken into consideration, it isnot so much amiss. He will not go far; these irregularities are commonin men who do great things afterwards----"

"And he is sleeping upstairs, without a word of this to his father, "exclaimed the Marquis. 

"Sleeping innocently as a child who has merely got five or six littlebourgeoises into trouble, and now must have duchesses, " returned theChevalier. 

"Why, he deserves a lettre de cachet!"

"'They' have done away with lettres de cachet, " said the Chevalier. "You know what a hubbub there was when they tried to institute a lawfor special cases. We could not keep the provost's courts, whichM. /de/ Bonaparte used to call commissions militaires. "

"Well, well; what are we to do if our boys are wild, or turn outscapegraces? Is there no locking them up in these days?" asked theMarquis. 

The Chevalier looked at the heartbroken father and lacked courage toanswer, "We shall be obliged to bring them up properly. "

"And you have never said a word of this to me, Mlle. D'Esgrignon, "added the Marquis, turning suddenly round upon Mlle. Armande. He neveraddressed her as Mlle. D'Esgrignon except when he was vexed; usuallyshe was called "my sister. "

"Why, monsieur, when a young man is full of life and spirits, andleads an idle life in a town like this, what else can you expect?"asked Mlle. D'Esgrignon. She could not understand her brother's anger. 

"Debts! eh! why, hang it all!" added the Chevalier. "He plays cards, he has little adventures, he shoots, --all these things are horriblyexpensive nowadays. "

"Come, " said the Marquis, "it is time to send him to the King. I willspend to-morrow morning in writing to our kinsmen. "

"I have some acquaintance with the Ducs de Navarreins, de Lenoncourt, de Maufrigneuse, and de Chaulieu, " said the Chevalier, though he knew, as he spoke, that he was pretty thoroughly forgotten. 

"My dear Chevalier, there is no need of such formalities to present ad'Esgrignon at court, " the Marquis broke in. --"A hundred thousandlivres, " he muttered; "this Chesnel makes very free. This is whatcomes of these accursed troubles. M. Chesnel protects my son. And nowI must ask him. . . . No, sister, you must undertake this business. Chesnel shall secure himself for the whole amount by a mortgage on ourlands. And just give this harebrained boy a good scolding; he will endby ruining himself if he goes on like this. "

The Chevalier and Mlle. D'Esgrignon thought these words perfectlysimple and natural, absurd as they would have sounded to any otherlistener. So far from seeing anything ridiculous in the speech, theywere both very much touched by a look of something like anguish in theold noble's face. Some dark premonition seemed to weigh upon M. D'Esgrignon at that moment, some glimmering of an insight into thechanged times. He went to the settee by the fireside and sat down, forgetting that Chesnel would be there before long; that Chesnel, ofwhom he could not bring himself to ask anything. 

Just then the Marquis d'Esgrignon looked exactly as any imaginationwith a touch of romance could wish. He was almost bald, but a fringeof silken, white locks, curled at the tips, covered the back of hishead. All the pride of race might be seen in a noble forehead, such asyou may admire in a Louis XV. , a Beaumarchais, a Marechal deRichelieu, it was not the square, broad brow of the portraits of theMarechal de Saxe; nor yet the small hard circle of Voltaire, compactto overfulness; it was graciously rounded and finely moulded, thetemples were ivory tinted and soft; and mettle and spirit, unquenchedby age, flashed from the brilliant eyes. The Marquis had the Condenose and the lovable Bourbon mouth, from which, as they used to say ofthe Comte d'Artois, only witty and urbane words proceed. His cheeks, sloping rather than foolishly rounded to the chin, were in keepingwith his spare frame, thin legs, and plump hands. The strangulationcravat at his throat was of the kind which every marquis wears in allthe portraits which adorn eighteenth century literature; it is commonalike to Saint-Preux and to Lovelace, to the elegant Montesquieu'sheroes and to Diderot's homespun characters (see the first editions ofthose writers' works). 

The Marquis always wore a white, gold-embroidered, high waistcoat, with the red ribbon of a commander of the Order of St. Louis blazingupon his breast; and a blue coat with wide skirts, and fleur-de-lys onthe flaps, which were turned back--an odd costume which the King hadadopted. But the Marquis could not bring himself to give up theFrenchman's knee-breeches nor yet the white silk stockings or thebuckles at the knees. After six o'clock in the evening he appeared infull dress. 

He read no newspapers but the Quotidienne and the Gazette de France, two journals accused by the Constitutional press of obscurantist viewsand uncounted "monarchical and religious" enormities; while theMarquis d'Esgrignon, on the other hand, found heresies andrevolutionary doctrines in every issue. No matter to what extremes theorgans of this or that opinion may go, they will never go quite farenough to please the purists on their own side; even as the portrayerof this magnificent personage is pretty certain to be accused ofexaggeration, whereas he has done his best to soften down some of thecruder tones and dim the more startling tints of the original. 

The Marquis d'Esgrignon rested his elbows on his knees and leant hishead on his hands. During his meditations Mlle. Armande and theChevalier looked at one another without uttering the thoughts in theirminds. Was he pained by the discovery that his son's future mustdepend upon his sometime land steward? Was he doubtful of thereception awaiting the young Count? Did he regret that he had made nopreparation for launching his heir into that brilliant world of court?Poverty had kept him in the depths of his province; how should he haveappeared at court? He sighed heavily as he raised his head. 

That sigh, in those days, came from the real aristocracy all overFrance; from the loyal provincial noblesse, consigned to neglect withmost of those who had drawn sword and braved the storm for the cause. 

"What have the Princes done for the du Guenics, or the Fontaines, orthe Bauvans, who never submitted?" he muttered to himself. "They flingmiserable pensions to the men who fought most bravely, and give them aroyal lieutenancy in a fortress somewhere on the outskirts of thekingdom. "

Evidently the Marquis doubted the reigning dynasty. Mlle. D'Esgrignonwas trying to reassure her brother as to the prospects of the journey, when a step outside on the dry narrow footway gave them notice ofChesnel's coming. In another moment Chesnel appeared; Josephin, theCount's gray-aired valet, admitted the notary without announcing him. 

"Chesnel, my boy----" (Chesnel was a white-haired man of sixty-nine, with a square-jawed, venerable countenance; he wore knee-breeches, ample enough to fill several chapters of dissertation in the mannerof Sterne, ribbed stockings, shoes with silver clasps, anecclesiastical-looking coat and a high waistcoat of scholastic cut. )

"Chesnel, my boy, it was very presumptuous of you to lend money to theComte d'Esgrignon! If I repaid you at once and we never saw each otheragain, it would be no more than you deserve for giving wings to hisvices. "

There was a pause, a silence such as there falls at court when theKing publicly reprimands a courtier. The old notary looked humble andcontrite. 

"I am anxious about that boy, Chesnel, " continued the Marquis in akindly tone; "I should like to send him to Paris to serve His Majesty. Make arrangements with my sister for his suitable appearance atcourt. --And we will settle accounts----"

The Marquis looked grave as he left the room with a friendly gestureof farewell to Chesnel. 

"I thank M. Le Marquis for all his goodness, " returned the old man, who still remained standing. 

Mlle. Armande rose to go to the door with her brother; she had rungthe bell, old Josephin was in readiness to light his master to hisroom. 

"Take a seat, Chesnel, " said the lady, as she returned, and withwomanly tact she explained away and softened the Marquis' harshness. And yet beneath that harshness Chesnel saw a great affection. TheMarquis' attachment for his old servant was something of the sameorder as a man's affection for his dog; he will fight any one whokicks the animal, the dog is like a part of his existence, a somethingwhich, if not exactly himself, represents him in that which is nearestand dearest--his sensibilities. 

"It is quite time that M. Le Comte should be sent away from the town, mademoiselle, " he said sententiously. 

"Yes, " returned she. "Has he been indulging in some new escapade?"

"No, mademoiselle. "

"Well, why do you blame him?"

"I am not blaming him, mademoiselle. No, I am not blaming him. I amvery far from blaming him. I will even say that I shall never blamehim, whatever he may do. "

There was a pause. The Chevalier, nothing if not quick to take in asituation, began to yawn like a sleep-ridden mortal. Gracefully hemade his excuses and went, with as little mind to sleep as to go anddrown himself. The imp Curiosity kept the Chevalier wide awake, andwith airy fingers plucked away the cotton wool from his ears. 

"Well, Chesnel, is it something new?" Mlle. Armande began anxiously. 

"Yes, things that cannot be told to M. Le Marquis; he would drop downin an apoplectic fit. "

"Speak out, " she said. With her beautiful head leant on the back ofher low chair, and her arms extended listlessly by her side, shelooked as if she were waiting passively for her deathblow. 

"Mademoiselle, M. Le Comte, with all his cleverness, is a plaything inthe hands of mean creatures, petty natures on the lookout for acrushing revenge. They want to ruin us and bring us low! There is thePresident of the Tribunal, M. De Ronceret; he has, as you know, a verygreat notion of his descent----"

"His grandfather was an attorney, " interposed Mlle. Armande. 

"I know he was. And for that reason you have not received him; nordoes he go to M. De Troisville's, nor to M. Le Duc de Verneuil's, norto the Marquis de Casteran's; but he is one of the pillars of duCroisier's salon. Your nephew may rub shoulders with young M. Fabiendu Ronceret without condescending too far, for he must have companionsof his own age. Well and good. That young fellow is at the bottom ofall M. Le Comte's follies; he and two or three of the rest of thembelong to the other side, the side of M. Le Chevalier's enemy, whodoes nothing but breathe threats of vengeance against you and all thenobles together. They all hope to ruin you through your nephew. Theringleader of the conspiracy is this sycophant of a du Croisier, thepretended Royalist. Du Croisier's wife, poor thing, knows nothingabout it; you know her, I should have heard of it before this if shehad ears to hear evil. For some time these wild young fellows were notin the secret, nor was anybody else; but the ringleaders let somethingdrop in jest, and then the fools got to know about it, and after theCount's recent escapades they let fall some words while they weredrunk. And those words were carried to me by others who are sorry tosee such a fine, handsome, noble, charming lad ruining himself withpleasure. So far people feel sorry for him; before many days are overthey will--I am afraid to say what----"

"They will despise him; say it out, Chesnel!" Mlle. Armande criedpiteously. 

"Ah! How can you keep the best people in the town from finding outfaults in their neighbors? They do not know what to do with themselvesfrom morning to night. And so M. Le Comte's losses at play are allreckoned up. Thirty thousand francs have taken flight during these twomonths, and everybody wonders where he gets the money. If they mentionit when I am present, I just call them to order. Ah! but--'Do yousuppose' (I told them this morning), 'do you suppose that if thed'Esgrignon family have lost their manorial rights, that thereforethey have been robbed of their hoard of treasure? The young Count hasa right to do as he pleases; and so long as he does not owe you ahalf-penny, you have no right to say a word. '"

Mlle, Armande held out her hand, and the notary kissed itrespectfully. 

"Good Chesnel! . . . But, my friend, how shall we find the money forthis journey? Victurnien must appear as befits his rank at court. "

"Oh! I have borrowed money on Le Jard, mademoiselle. "

"What? You have nothing left! Ah, heaven! what can we do to rewardyou?"

"You can take the hundred thousand francs which I hold at yourdisposal. You can understand that the loan was negotiated inconfidence, so that it might not reflect on you; for it is known inthe town that I am closely connected with the d'Esgrignon family. "

Tears came into Mlle. Armande's eyes. Chesnel saw them, took a fold ofthe noble woman's dress in his hands, and kissed it. 

"Never mind, " he said, "a lad must sow his wild oats. In great salonsin Paris his boyish ideas will take a new turn. And, really, thoughour old friends here are the worthiest folk in the world, and no onecould have nobler hearts than they, they are not amusing. If M. LeComte wants amusement, he is obliged to look below his rank, and hewill end by getting into low company. "

Next day the old traveling coach saw the light, and was sent to be putin repair. In a solemn interview after breakfast, the hope of thehouse was duly informed of his father's intentions regarding him--hewas to go to court and ask to serve His Majesty. He would have timeduring the journey to make up his mind about his career. The navy orthe army, the privy council, an embassy, or the Royal Household, --allwere open to a d'Esgrignon, a d'Esgrignon had only to choose. The Kingwould certainly look favorably upon the d'Esgrignons, because they hadasked nothing of him, and had sent the youngest representative oftheir house to receive the recognition of Majesty. 

But young d'Esgrignon, with all his wild pranks, had guessedinstinctively what society in Paris meant, and formed his own opinionsof life. So when they talked of his leaving the country and thepaternal roof, he listened with a grave countenance to his reveredparent's lecture, and refrained from giving him a good deal ofinformation in reply. As, for instance, that young men no longer wentinto the army or the navy as they used to do; that if a man had a mindto be a second lieutenant in a cavalry regiment without passingthrough a special training in the Ecoles, he must first serve in thePages; that sons of the greatest houses went exactly like commoners toSaint-Cyr and the Ecole polytechnique, and took their chances of beingbeaten by base blood. If he had enlightened his relatives on thesepoints, funds might not have been forthcoming for a stay in Paris; sohe allowed his father and Aunt Armande to believe that he would bepermitted a seat in the King's carriages, that he must support hisdignity at court as the d'Esgrignon of the time, and rub shoulderswith great lords of the realm. 

It grieved the Marquis that he could send but one servant with hisson; but he gave him his own valet Josephin, a man who can be trustedto take care of his young master, and to watch faithfully over hisinterests. The poor father must do without Josephin, and hope toreplace him with a young lad. 

"Remember that you are a Carol, my boy, " he said; "remember that youcome of an unalloyed descent, and that your scutcheon bears the mottoCil est nostre; with such arms you may hold your head high everywhere, and aspire to queens. Render grace to your father, as I to mine. Weowe it to the honor of our ancestors, kept stainless until now, thatwe can look all men in the face, and need bend the knee to none save amistress, the King, and God. This is the greatest of your privileges. "

Chesnel, good man, was breakfasting with the family. He took no partin counsels based on heraldry, nor in the inditing of lettersaddressed to divers mighty personages of the day; but he had spent thenight in writing to an old friend of his, one of the oldestestablished notaries of Paris. Without this letter it is not possibleto understand Chesnel's real and assumed fatherhood. It almost recallsDaedalus' address to Icarus; for where, save in old mythology, can youlook for comparisons worthy of this man of antique mould?

 "MY DEAR AND ESTIMABLE SORBIER, --I remember with no little pleasure that I made my first campaign in our honorable profession under your father, and that you had a liking for me, poor little clerk that I was. And now I appeal to old memories of the days when we worked in the same office, old pleasant memories for our hearts, to ask you to do me the one service that I have ever asked of you in the course of our long lives, crossed as they have been by political catastrophes, to which, perhaps, I owe it that I have the honor to be your colleague. And now I ask this service of you, my friend, and my white hairs will be brought with sorrow to the grave if you should refuse my entreaty. It is no question of myself or of mine, Sorbier, for I lost poor Mme. Chesnel, and I have no child of my own. Something more to me than my own family (if I had one) is involved--it is the Marquis d'Esgrignon's only son. I have had the honor to be the Marquis' land steward ever since I left the office to which his father sent me at his own expense, with the idea of providing for me. The house which nurtured me has passed through all the troubles of the Revolution. I have managed to save some of their property; but what is it, after all, in comparison with the wealth that they have lost? I cannot tell you, Sorbier, how deeply I am attached to the great house, which has been all but swallowed up under my eyes by the abyss of time. M. Le Marquis was proscribed, and his lands confiscated, he was getting on in years, he had no child. Misfortunes upon misfortunes! Then M. Le Marquis married, and his wife died when the young Count was born, and to-day this noble, dear, and precious child is all the life of the d'Esgrignon family; the fate of the house hangs upon him. He has got into debt here with amusing himself. What else should he do in the provinces with an allowance of a miserable hundred louis? Yes, my friend, a hundred louis, the great house has come to this. 

 "In this extremity his father thinks it necessary to send the Count to Paris to ask for the King's favor at court. Paris is a very dangerous place for a lad; if he is to keep steady there, he must have the grain of sense which makes notaries of us. Besides, I should be heartbroken to think of the poor boy living amid such hardships as we have known. --Do you remember the pleasure with which we spent a day and a night there waiting to see The Marriage of Figaro? Oh, blind that we were!--We were happy and poor, but a noble cannot be happy in poverty. A noble in want--it is a thing against nature! Ah! Sorbier, when one has known the satisfaction of propping one of the grandest genealogical trees in the kingdom in its fall, it is so natural to interest oneself in it and to grow fond of it, and love it and water it and look to see it blossom. So you will not be surprised at so many precautions on my part; you will not wonder when I beg the help of your lights, so that all may go well with our young man. 

 "Keep yourself informed of his movements and doings, of the company which he keeps, and watch over his connections with women. M. Le Chevalier says that an opera dancer often costs less than a court lady. Obtain information on that point and let me know. If you are too busy, perhaps Mme. Sorbier might know what becomes of the young man, and where he goes. The idea of playing the part of guardian angel to such a noble and charming boy might have attractions for her. God will remember her for accepting the sacred trust. Perhaps when you see M. Le Comte Victurnien, her heart may tremble at the thought of all the dangers awaiting him in Paris; he is very young, and handsome; clever, and at the same time disposed to trust others. If he forms a connection with some designing woman, Mme. Sorbier could counsel him better than you yourself could do. The old man-servant who is with him can tell you many things; sound Josephin, I have told him to go to you in delicate matters. 

 "But why should I say more? We once were clerks together, and a pair of scamps; remember our escapades, and be a little bit young again, my old friend, in your dealings with him. The sixty thousand francs will be remitted to you in the shape of a bill on the Treasury by a gentlemen who is going to Paris, " and so forth. 

If the old couple to whom this epistle was addressed had followed outChesnel's instructions, they would have been compelled to take threeprivate detectives into their pay. And yet there was ample wisdomshown in Chesnel's choice of a depositary. A banker pays money to anyone accredited to him so long as the money lasts; whereas, Victurnienwas obliged, every time that he was in want of money, to make apersonal visit to the notary, who was quite sure to use the right ofremonstrance. 

Victurnien heard that he was to be allowed two thousand francs everymonth, and thought that he betrayed his joy. He knew nothing of Paris. He fancied that he could keep up princely state on such a sum. 

Next day he started on his journey. All the benedictions of theCollection of Antiquities went with him; he was kissed by thedowagers; good wishes were heaped on his head; his old father, hisaunt, and Chesnel went with him out of the town, tears filling theeyes of all three. The sudden departure supplied material forconversation for several evenings; and what was more, it stirred therancorous minds of the salon du Croisier to the depths. Theforage-contractor, the president, and others who had vowed to ruinthe d'Esgrignons, saw their prey escaping out of their hands. Theyhad based their schemes of revenge on a young man's follies, and nowhe was beyond their reach. 

The tendency in human nature, which often gives a bigot a rake for adaughter, and makes a frivolous woman the mother of a narrow pietist;that rule of contraries, which, in all probability, is the "resultant"of the law of similarities, drew Victurnien to Paris by a desire towhich he must sooner or later have yielded. Brought up as he had beenin the old-fashioned provincial house, among the quiet, gentle facesthat smiled upon him, among sober servants attached to the family, andsurroundings tinged with a general color of age, the boy had only seenfriends worthy of respect. All of those about him, with the exceptionof the Chevalier, had example of venerable age, were elderly men andwomen, sedate of manner, decorous and sententious of speech. He hadbeen petted by those women in gray gowns and embroidered mittensdescribed by Blondet. The antiquated splendors of his father's housewere as little calculated as possible to suggest frivolous thoughts;and lastly, he had been educated by a sincerely religious abbe, possessed of all the charm of old age, which has dwelt in twocenturies, and brings to the Present its gifts of the dried roses ofexperience, the faded flowers of the old customs of its youth. Everything should have combined to fashion Victurnien to serioushabits; his whole surroundings from childhood bade him continue theglory of a historic name, by taking his life as something noble andgreat; and yet Victurnien listened to dangerous promptings. 

For him, his noble birth was a stepping-stone which raised him aboveother men. He felt that the idol of Noblesse, before which they burnedincense at home, was hollow; he had come to be one of the commonest aswell as one of the worst types from a social point of view--aconsistent egoist. The aristocratic cult of the /ego/ simply taught himto follow his own fancies; he had been idolized by those who had thecare of him in childhood, and adored by the companions who shared inhis boyish escapades, and so he had formed a habit of looking andjudging everything as it affected his own pleasure; he took it as amatter of course when good souls saved him from the consequences ofhis follies, a piece of mistaken kindness which could only lead to hisruin. Victurnien's early training, noble and pious though it was, hadisolated him too much. He was out of the current of the life of thetime, for the life of a provincial town is certainly not in the maincurrent of the age; Victurnien's true destiny lifted him above it. Hehad learned to think of an action, not as it affected others, norrelatively, but absolutely from his own point of view. Like despots, he made the law to suit the circumstance, a system which works in thelives of prodigal sons the same confusion which fancy brings into art. 

Victurnien was quick-sighted, he saw clearly and without illusion, buthe acted on impulse, and unwisely. An indefinable flaw of character, often seen in young men, but impossible to explain, led him to willone thing and do another. In spite of an active mind, which showeditself in unexpected ways, the senses had but to assert themselves, and the darkened brain seemed to exist no longer. He might haveastonished wise men; he was capable of setting fools agape. Hisdesires, like a sudden squall of bad weather, overclouded all theclear and lucid spaces of his brain in a moment; and then, after thedissipations which he could not resist, he sank, utterly exhausted inbody, heart, and mind, into a collapsed condition bordering uponimbecility. Such a character will drag a man down into the mire if heis left to himself, or bring him to the highest heights of politicalpower if he has some stern friend to keep him in hand. NeitherChesnel, nor the lad's father, nor Aunt Armande had fathomed thedepths of a nature so nearly akin on many sides to the poetictemperament, yet smitten with a terrible weakness at its core. 

By the time the old town lay several miles away, Victurnien felt notthe slightest regret; he thought no more about the father, who hadloved ten generations in his son, nor of the aunt, and her almostinsane devotion. He was looking forward to Paris with vehementill-starred longings; in thought he had lived in that fairyland, ithad been the background of his brightest dreams. He imagined that hewould be first in Paris, as he had been in the town and the departmentwhere his father's name was potent; but it was vanity, not pride, thatfilled his soul, and in his dreams his pleasures were to be magnifiedby all the greatness of Paris. The distance was soon crossed. Thetraveling coach, like his own thoughts, left the narrow horizon of theprovince for the vast world of the great city, without a break in thejourney. He stayed in the Rue de Richelieu, in a handsome hotel closeto the boulevard, and hastened to take possession of Paris as afamished horse rushes into a meadow. 

He was not long in finding out the difference between country andtown, and was rather surprised than abashed by the change. His mentalquickness soon discovered how small an entity he was in the midst ofthis all-comprehending Babylon; how insane it would be to attempt tostem the torrent of new ideas and new ways. A single incident wasenough. He delivered his father's letter of introduction to the Duc deLenoncourt, a noble who stood high in favor with the King. He saw theduke in his splendid mansion, among surroundings befitting his rank. Next day he met him again. This time the Peer of France was loungingon foot along the boulevard, just like any ordinary mortal, with anumbrella in his hand; he did not even wear the Blue Ribbon, withoutwhich no knight of the order could have appeared in public in othertimes. And, duke and peer and first gentleman of the bedchamber thoughhe was, M. De Lenoncourt, in spite of his high courtesy, could notrepress a smile as he read his relative's letter; and that smile toldVicturnien that the Collection of Antiquities and the Tuileries wereseparated by more than sixty leagues of road; the distance of severalcenturies lay between them. 

The names of the families grouped about the throne are quite differentin each successive reign, and the characters change with the names. Itwould seem that, in the sphere of court, the same thing happens overand over again in each generation; but each time there is a quitedifferent set of personages. If history did not prove that this is so, it would seem incredible. The prominent men at the court of LouisXVIII. , for instance, had scarcely any connection with theRivieres, Blacas, d'Avarays, Vitrolles, d'Autichamps, Pasquiers, Larochejaqueleins, Decazes, Dambrays, Laines, de Villeles, LaBourdonnayes, and others who shone at the court of Louis XV. Comparethe courtiers of Henri IV. With those of Louis XIV. ; you will hardlyfind five great families of the former time still in existence. Thenephew of the great Richelieu was a very insignificant person at thecourt of Louis XIV. ; while His Majesty's favorite, Villeroi, was thegrandson of a secretary ennobled by Charles IX. And so it befell thatthe d'Esgrignons, all but princes under the Valois, and all-powerfulin the time of Henri IV. , had no fortune whatever at the court ofLouis XVIII. , which gave them not so much as a thought. At this daythere are names as famous as those of royal houses--the Foix-Graillys, for instance, or the d'Herouvilles--left to obscurity tantamount toextinction for want of money, the one power of the time. 

All which things Victurnien beheld entirely from his own point ofview; he felt the equality that he saw in Paris as a personal wrong. The monster Equality was swallowing down the last fragments of socialdistinction in the Restoration. Having made up his mind on this head, he immediately proceeded to try to win back his place with suchdangerous, if blunted weapons, as the age left to the noblesse. It isan expensive matter to gain the attention of Paris. To this end, Victurnien adopted some of the ways then in vogue. He felt that it wasa necessity to have horses and fine carriages, and all the accessoriesof modern luxury; he felt, in short, "that a man must keep abreast ofthe times, " as de Marsay said--de Marsay, the first dandy that he cameacross in the first drawing-room to which he was introduced. For hismisfortune, he fell in with a set of roues, with de Marsay, deRonquerolles, Maxime de Trailles, des Lupeaulx, Rastignac, Ajuda-Pinto, Beaudenord, de la Roche-Hugon, de Manerville, and theVandenesses, whom he met wherever he went, and a great many houseswere open to a young man with his ancient name and reputation forwealth. He went to the Marquise d'Espard's, to the Duchesses deGrandlieu, de Carigliano, and de Chaulieu, to the Marquisesd'Aiglemont and de Listomere, to Mme. De Serizy's, to the Opera, tothe embassies and elsewhere. The Faubourg Saint-Germain has itsprovincial genealogies at its fingers' ends; a great name oncerecognized and adopted therein is a passport which opens many a doorthat will scarcely turn on its hinges for unknown names or the lionsof a lower rank. 

Victurnien found his relatives both amiable and ready to welcome himso long as he did not appear as a suppliant; he saw at once that thesurest way of obtaining nothing was to ask for something. At Paris, ifthe first impulse moves people to protect, second thoughts (which lasta good deal longer) impel them to despise the protege. Independence, vanity, and pride, all the young Count's better and worse feelingscombined, led him, on the contrary, to assume an aggressive attitude. And therefore the Ducs de Verneuil, de Lenoncourt, de Chaulieu, deNavarreins, d'Herouville, de Grandlieu, and de Maufrigneuse, thePrinces de Cadignan and de Blamont-Chauvry, were delighted to presentthe charming survivor of the wreck of an ancient family at court. 

Victurnien went to the Tuileries in a splendid carriage with hisarmorial bearings on the panels; but his presentation to His Majestymade it abundantly clear to him that the people occupied the royalmind so much that his nobility was like to be forgotten. The restoreddynasty, moreover, was surrounded by triple ranks of eligible old menand gray-headed courtiers; the young noblesse was reduced to a cipher, and this Victurnien guessed at once. He saw that there was no suitableplace for him at court, nor in the government, nor the army, nor, indeed, anywhere else. So he launched out into the world of pleasure. Introduced at the Elyess-Bourbon, at the Duchesse d'Angouleme's, atthe Pavillon Marsan, he met on all sides with the surface civilitiesdue to the heir of an old family, not so old but it could be called tomind by the sight of a living member. And, after all, it was not asmall thing to be remembered. In the distinction with which Victurnienwas honored lay the way to the peerage and a splendid marriage; he hadtaken the field with a false appearance of wealth, and his vanitywould not allow him to declare his real position. Besides, he had beenso much complimented on the figure that he made, he was so pleasedwith his first success, that, like many other young men, he feltashamed to draw back. He took a suite of rooms in the Rue du Bac, withstables and a complete equipment for the fashionable life to which hehad committed himself. These preliminaries cost him fifty thousandfrancs, which money, moreover, the young gentleman managed to draw inspite of all Chesnel's wise precautions, thanks to a series ofunforeseen events. 

Chesnel's letter certainly reached his friend's office, but MaitreSorbier was dead; and Mme. Sorbier, a matter-of-fact person, seeing itwas a business letter, handed it on to her husband's successor. MaitreCardot, the new notary, informed the young Count that a draft on theTreasury made payable to the deceased would be useless; and by way ofreply to the letter, which had cost the old provincial notary so muchthought, Cardot despatched four lines intended not to reach Chesnel'sheart, but to produce the money. Chesnel made the draft payable toSorbier's young successor; and the latter, feeling but littleinclination to adopt his correspondent's sentimentality, was delightedto put himself at the Count's orders, and gave Victurnien as muchmoney as he wanted. 

Now those who know what life in Paris means, know that fifty thousandfrancs will not go very far in furniture, horses, carriages, andelegance generally; but it must be borne in mind that Victurnienimmediately contracted some twenty thousand francs' worth of debtsbesides, and his tradespeople at first were not at all anxious to bepaid, for our young gentleman's fortune had been prodigiouslyincreased, partly by rumor, partly by Josephin, that Chesnel inlivery. 

Victurnien had not been in town a month before he was obliged torepair to his man of business for ten thousand francs; he had onlybeen playing whist with the Ducs de Navarreins, de Chaulieu, and deLenoncourt, and now and again at his club. He had begun by winningsome thousands of francs but pretty soon lost five or six thousand, which brought home to him the necessity of a purse for play. Victurnien had the spirit that gains goodwill everywhere, and puts ayoung man of a great family on a level with the very highest. He wasnot merely admitted at once into the band of patrician youth, but waseven envied by the rest. It was intoxicating to him to feel that hewas envied, nor was he in this mood very likely to think of reform. Indeed, he had completely lost his head. He would not think of themeans; he dipped into his money-bags as if they could be refilledindefinitely; he deliberately shut his eyes to the inevitable resultsof the system. In that dissipated set, in the continual whirl ofgaiety, people take the actors in their brilliant costumes as theyfind them, no one inquires whether a man can afford to make the figurehe does, there is nothing in worse taste than inquiries as to ways andmeans. A man ought to renew his wealth perpetually, and as Nature does--below the surface and out of sight. People talk if somebody comes togrief; they joke about a newcomer's fortune till their minds are setat rest, and at this they draw the line. Victurnien d'Esgrignon, withall the Faubourg Saint-Germain to back him, with all his protectorsexaggerating the amount of his fortune (were it only to rid themselvesof responsibility), and magnifying his possessions in the most refinedand well-bred way, with a hint or a word; with all these advantages--to repeat--Victurnien was, in fact, an eligible Count. He washandsome, witty, sound in politics; his father still possessed theancestral castle and the lands of the marquisate. Such a young fellowis sure of an admirable reception in houses where there aremarriageable daughters, fair but portionless partners at dances, andyoung married women who find that time hangs heavy on their hands. Sothe world, smiling, beckoned him to the foremost benches in its booth;the seats reserved for marquises are still in the same place in Paris;and if the names are changed, the things are the same as ever. 

In the most exclusive circle of society in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, Victurnien found the Chevalier's double in the person of the Vidame dePamiers. The Vidame was a Chevalier de Valois raised to the tenthpower, invested with all the prestige of wealth, enjoying all theadvantages of high position. The dear Vidame was a repositary foreverybody's secrets, and the gazette of the Faubourg besides;nevertheless, he was discreet, and, like other gazettes, only saidthings that might safely be published. Again Victurnien listened tothe Chevalier's esoteric doctrines. The Vidame told young d'Esgrignon, without mincing matters, to make conquests among women of quality, supplementing the advice with anecdotes from his own experience. TheVicomte de Pamiers, it seemed, had permitted himself much that itwould serve no purpose to relate here; so remote was it all from ourmodern manners, in which soul and passion play so large a part, thatnobody would believe it. But the excellent Vidame did more than this. 

"Dine with me at a tavern to-morrow, " said he, by way of conclusion. "We will digest our dinner at the Opera, and afterwards I will takeyou to a house where several people have the greatest wish to meetyou. "

The Vidame gave a delightful little dinner at the Rocher de Cancale;three guests only were asked to meet Victurnien--de Marsay, Rastignac, and Blondet. Emile Blondet, the young Count's fellow-townsman, was aman of letters on the outskirts of society to which he had beenintroduced by a charming woman from the same province. This was one ofthe Vicomte de Troisville's daughters, now married to the Comte deMontcornet, one of those of Napoleon's generals who went over to theBourbons. The Vidame held that a dinner-party of more than six personswas beneath contempt. In that case, according to him, there was an endalike of cookery and conversation, and a man could not sip his wine ina proper frame of mind. 

"I have not yet told you, my dear boy, where I mean to take youto-night, " he said, taking Victurnien's hands and tapping on them. "You are going to see Mlle. Des Touches; all the pretty women with anypretensions to wit will be at her house en petit comite. Literature, art, poetry, any sort of genius, in short, is held in great esteemthere. It is one of our old-world bureaux d'esprit, with a veneer ofmonarchical doctrine, the livery of this present age. "

"It is sometimes as tiresome and tedious there as a pair of new boots, but there are women with whom you cannot meet anywhere else, " said deMarsay. 

"If all the poets who went there to rub up their muse were like ourfriend here, " said Rastignac, tapping Blondet familiarly on theshoulder, "we should have some fun. But a plague of odes, and ballads, and driveling meditations, and novels with wide margins, pervades thesofas and the atmosphere. "

"I don't dislike them, " said de Marsay, "so long as they corruptgirls' minds, and don't spoil women. "

"Gentlemen, " smiled Blondet, "you are encroaching on my field ofliterature. "

"You need not talk. You have robbed us of the most charming woman inthe world, you lucky rogue; we may be allowed to steal your lessbrilliant ideas, " cried Rastignac. 

"Yes, he is a lucky rascal, " said the Vidame, and he twitchedBlondet's ear. "But perhaps Victurnien here will be luckier still thisevening----"

"/Already/!" exclaimed de Marsay. "Why, he only came here a month ago;he has scarcely had time to shake the dust of his old manor house offhis feet, to wipe off the brine in which his aunt kept him preserved;he has only just set up a decent horse, a tilbury in the latest style, a groom----"

"No, no, not a groom, " interrupted Rastignac; "he has some sort of anagricultural laborer that he brought with him 'from his place. 'Buisson, who understands a livery as well as most, declared that theman was physically incapable of wearing a jacket. "

"I will tell you what, you ought to have modeled yourself onBeaudenord, " the Vidame said seriously. "He has this advantage overall of you, my young friends, he has a genuine specimen of the Englishtiger----"

"Just see, gentlemen, what the noblesse have come to in France!" criedVicturnien. "For them the one important thing is to have a tiger, athoroughbred, and baubles----"

"Bless me!" said Blondet. "'This gentleman's good sense at timesappalls me. '--Well, yes, young moralist, you nobles have come to that. You have not even left to you that lustre of lavish expenditure forwhich the dear Vidame was famous fifty years ago. We revel on a secondfloor in the Rue Montorgueil. There are no more wars with theCardinal, no Field of the Cloth of Gold. You, Comte d'Esgrignon, inshort, are supping in the company of one Blondet, younger son of amiserable provincial magistrate, with whom you would not shake handsdown yonder; and in ten years' time you may sit beside him among peersof the realm. Believe in yourself after that, if you can. "

"Ah, well, " said Rastignac, "we have passed from action to thought, from brute force to force of intellect, we are talking----"

"Let us not talk of our reverses, " protested the Vidame; "I have madeup my mind to die merrily. If our friend here has not a tiger as yet, he comes of a race of lions, and can dispense with one. "

"He cannot do without a tiger, " said Blondet; "he is too newly come totown. "

"His elegance may be new as yet, " returned de Marsay, "but we areadopting it. He is worthy of us, he understands his age, he hasbrains, he is nobly born and gently bred; we are going to like him, and serve him, and push him----"

"Whither?" inquired Blondet. 

"Inquisitive soul!" said Rastignac. 

"With whom will he take up to-night?" de Marsay asked. 

"With a whole seraglio, " said the Vidame. 

"Plague take it! What can we have done that the dear Vidame ispunishing us by keeping his word to the infanta? I should be pitiableindeed if I did not know her----"

"And I was once a coxcomb even as he, " said the Vidame, indicating deMarsay. 

The conversation continued pitched in the same key, charminglyscandalous, and agreeably corrupt. The dinner went off verypleasantly. Rastignac and de Marsay went to the Opera with the Vidameand Victurnien, with a view to following them afterwards to Mlle. DesTouches' salon. And thither, accordingly, this pair of rakes betookthemselves, calculating that by that time the tragedy would have beenread; for of all things to be taken between eleven and twelve o'clockat night, a tragedy in their opinion was the most unwholesome. Theywent to keep a watch on Victurnien and to embarrass him, a piece ofschoolboys's mischief embittered by a jealous dandy's spite. ButVicturnien was gifted with that page's effrontery which is a greathelp to ease of manner; and Rastignac, watching him as he made hisentrance, was surprised to see how quickly he caught the tone of themoment. 

"That young d'Esgrignon will go far, will he not?" he said, addressinghis companion. 

"That is as may be, " returned de Marsay, "but he is in a fair way. "

The Vidame introduced his young friend to one of the most amiable andfrivolous duchesses of the day, a lady whose adventures caused anexplosion five years later. Just then, however, she was in the fullblaze of her glory; she had been suspected, it is true, of equivocalconduct; but suspicion, while it is still suspicion and not proof, marks a woman out with the kind of distinction which slander gives toa man. Nonentities are never slandered; they chafe because they areleft in peace. This woman was, in fact, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, a daughter of the d'Uxelles; her father-in-law was still alive; shewas not to be the Princesse de Cadignan for some years to come. Afriend of the Duchesse de Langeais and the Vicomtesse de Beauseant, two glories departed, she was likewise intimate with the Marquised'Espard, with whom she disputed her fragile sovereignty as queen offashion. Great relations lent her countenance for a long while, butthe Duchesse de Maufrigneuse was one of those women who, in some way, nobody knows how, or why, or where, will spend the rents of all thelands of earth, and of the moon likewise, if they were not out ofreach. The general outline of her character was scarcely known as yet;de Marsay, and de Marsay only, really had read her. That redoubtabledandy now watched the Vidame de Pamiers' introduction of his youngfriend to that lovely woman, and bent over to say in Rastignac's ear:

"My dear fellow, he will go up /whizz/! like a rocket, and come downlike a stick, " an atrociously vulgar saying which was remarkablyfulfilled. 

The Duchesse de Maufrigneuse had lost her heart to Victurnien afterfirst giving her mind to a serious study of him. Any lover who shouldhave caught the glance by which she expressed her gratitude to theVidame might well have been jealous of such friendship. Women are likehorses let loose on a steppe when they feel, as the Duchess felt withthe Vidame de Pamiers, that the ground is safe; at such moments theyare themselves; perhaps it pleases them to give, as it were, samplesof their tenderness in intimacy in this way. It was a guarded glance, nothing was lost between eye and eye; there was no possibility ofreflection in any mirror. Nobody intercepted it. 

"See how she has prepared herself, " Rastignac said, turning to deMarsay. "What a virginal toilette; what swan's grace in thatsnow-white throat of hers! How white her gown is, and she is wearinga sash like a little girl; she looks round like a madonna inviolate. Who would think that you had passed that way?"

"The very reason why she looks as she does, " returned de Marsay, witha triumphant air. 

The two young men exchanged a smile. Mme. De Maufrigneuse saw thesmile and guessed at their conversation, and gave the pair a broadsideof her eyes, an art acquired by Frenchwomen since the Peace, whenEnglishwomen imported it into this country, together with the shape oftheir silver plate, their horses and harness, and the piles of insularice which impart a refreshing coolness to the atmosphere of any roomin which a certain number of British females are gathered together. The young men grew serious as a couple of clerks at the end of ahomily from headquarters before the receipt of an expected bonus. 

The Duchess when she lost her heart to Victurnien had made up her mindto play the part of romantic Innocence, a role much understudiedsubsequently by other women, for the misfortune of modern youth. HerGrace of Maufrigneuse had just come out as an angel at a moment'snotice, precisely as she meant to turn to literature and sciencesomewhere about her fortieth year instead of taking to devotion. Shemade a point of being like nobody else. Her parts, her dresses, hercaps, opinions, toilettes, and manner of acting were all entirely newand original. Soon after her marriage, when she was scarcely more thana girl, she had played the part of a knowing and almost depravedwoman; she ventured on risky repartees with shallow people, andbetrayed her ignorance to those who knew better. As the date of thatmarriage made it impossible to abstract one little year from her agewithout the knowledge of Time, she had taken it into her head to beimmaculate. She scarcely seemed to belong to earth; she shook out herwide sleeves as if they had been wings. Her eyes fled to heaven at toowarm a glance, or word, or thought. 

There is a madonna painted by Piola, the great Genoese painter, whobade fair to bring out a second edition of Raphael till his career wascut short by jealousy and murder; his madonna, however, you may dimlydiscern through a pane of glass in a little street in Genoa. 

A more chaste-eyed madonna than Piola's does not exist but comparedwith Mme. De Maufrigneuse, that heavenly creature was a Messalina. Women wondered among themselves how such a giddy young thing had beentransformed by a change of dress into the fair veiled seraph whoseemed (to use an expression now in vogue) to have a soul as white asnew fallen snow on the highest Alpine crests. How had she solved insuch short space the Jesuitical problem how to display a bosom whiterthan her soul by hiding it in gauze? How could she look so etherealwhile her eyes drooped so murderously? Those almost wanton glancesseemed to give promise of untold languorous delight, while by anascetic's sigh of aspiration after a better life the mouth appeared toadd that none of those promises would be fulfilled. Ingenuous youths(for there were a few to be found in the Guards of that day) privatelywondered whether, in the most intimate moments, it were possible tospeak familiarly to this White Lady, this starry vapor slidden downfrom the Milky Way. This system, which answered completely for someyears at a stretch, was turned to good account by women of fashion, whose breasts were lined with a stout philosophy, for they could cloakno inconsiderable exactions with these little airs from the sacristy. Not one of the celestial creatures but was quite well aware of thepossibilities of less ethereal love which lay in the longing of everywell-conditioned male to recall such beings to earth. It was a fashionwhich permitted them to abide in a semi-religious, semi-Ossianicempyrean; they could, and did, ignore all the practical details ofdaily life, a short and easy method of disposing of many questions. DeMarsay, foreseeing the future developments of the system, added a lastword, for he saw that Rastignac was jealous of Victurnien. 

"My boy, " said he, "stay as you are. Our Nucingen will make yourfortune, whereas the Duchess would ruin you. She is too expensive. "

Rastignac allowed de Marsay to go without asking further questions. Heknew Paris. He knew that the most refined and noble and disinterestedof women--a woman who cannot be induced to accept anything but abouquet--can be as dangerous an acquaintance for a young man as anyopera girl of former days. As a matter of fact, the opera girl is analmost mythical being. As things are now at the theatres, dancers andactresses are about as amusing as a declaration of the rights ofwoman, they are puppets that go abroad in the morning in the characterof respected and respectable mothers of families, and act men's partsin tight-fitting garments at night. 

Worthy M. Chesnel, in his country notary's office, was right; he hadforeseen one of the reefs on which the Count might shipwreck. Victurnien was dazzled by the poetic aureole which Mme. DeMaufrigneuse chose to assume; he was chained and padlocked from thefirst hour in her company, bound captive by that girlish sash, andcaught by the curls twined round fairy fingers. Far corrupted the boywas already, but he really believed in that farrago of maidenlinessand muslin, in sweet looks as much studied as an Act of Parliament. And if the one man, who is in duty bound to believe in feminine fibs, is deceived by them, is not that enough?

For a pair of lovers, the rest of their species are about as muchalive as figures on the tapestry. The Duchess, flattery apart, wasavowedly and admittedly one of the ten handsomest women in society. "The loveliest woman in Paris" is, as you know, as often met with inthe world of love-making as "the finest book that has appeared in thisgeneration, " in the world of letters. 

The converse which Victurnien held with the Duchess can be kept up athis age without too great a strain. He was young enough and ignorantenough of life in Paris to feel no necessity to be upon his guard, noneed to keep a watch over his lightest words and glances. Thereligious sentimentalism, which finds a broadly humorous commentary inthe after-thoughts of either speaker, puts the old-world French chatof men and women, with its pleasant familiarity, its lively ease, quite out of the question; they make love in a mist nowadays. 

Victurnien was just sufficient of an unsophisticated provincial toremain suspended in a highly appropriate and unfeigned rapture whichpleased the Duchess; for women are no more to be deceived by thecomedies which men play than by their own. Mme. De Maufrigneusecalculated, not without dismay, that the young Count's infatuation waslikely to hold good for six whole months of disinterested love. Shelooked so lovely in this dove's mood, quenching the light in her eyesby the golden fringe of their lashes, that when the Marquise d'Espardbade her friend good-night, she whispered, "Good! very good, dear!"And with those farewell words, the fair Marquise left her rival tomake the tour of the modern Pays du Tendre; which, by the way, is notso absurd a conception as some appear to think. New maps of thecountry are engraved for each generation; and if the names of theroutes are different, they still lead to the same capital city. 

In the course of an hour's tete-a-tete, on a corner sofa, under theeyes of the world, the Duchess brought young d'Esgrignon as far asScipio's Generosity, the Devotion of Amadis, and ChivalrousSelf-abnegation (for the Middle Ages were just coming into fashion, with their daggers, machicolations, hauberks, chain-mail, peaked shoes, and romantic painted card-board properties). She had an admirable turn, moreover, for leaving things unsaid, for leaving ideas in a discreet, seeming careless way, to work their way down, one by one, intoVicturnien's heart, like needles into a cushion. She possessed amarvelous skill in reticence; she was charming in hypocrisy, lavish ofsubtle promises, which revived hope and then melted away like ice inthe sun if you looked at them closely, and most treacherous in thedesire which she felt and inspired. At the close of this charmingencounter she produced the running noose of an invitation to call, andflung it over him with a dainty demureness which the printed page cannever set forth. 

"You will forget me, " she said. "You will find so many women eager topay court to you instead of enlightening you. . . . But you will comeback to me undeceived. Are you coming to me first? . . . No. As youwill. --For my own part, I tell you frankly that your visits will be agreat pleasure to me. People of soul are so rare, and I think that youare one of them. --Come, good-bye; people will begin to talk about usif we talk together any longer. "

She made good her words and took flight. Victurnien went soonafterwards, but not before others had guessed his ecstatic condition;his face wore the expression peculiar to happy men, something betweenan Inquisitor's calm discretion and the self-contained beatitude of adevotee, fresh from the confessional and absolution. 

"Mme. De Maufrigneuse went pretty briskly to the point this evening, "said the Duchesse de Grandlieu, when only half-a-dozen persons wereleft in Mlle. Des Touches' little drawing-room--to wit, des Lupeaulx, a Master of Requests, who at that time stood very well at court, Vandenesse, the Vicomtesse de Grandlieu, Canalis, and Mme. De Serizy. 

"D'Esgrignon and Maufrigneuse are two names that are sure to clingtogether, " said Mme. De Serizy, who aspired to epigram. 

"For some days past she has been out at grass on Platonism, " said desLupeaulx. 

"She will ruin that poor innocent, " added Charles de Vandenesse. 

"What do you mean?" asked Mlle. Des Touches. 

"Oh, morally and financially, beyond all doubt, " said the Vicomtesse, rising. 

The cruel words were cruelly true for young d'Esgrignon. 

Next morning he wrote to his aunt describing his introduction into thehigh world of the Faubourg Saint-Germain in bright colors flung by theprism of love, explaining the reception which met him everywhere in away which gratified his father's family pride. The Marquis would havethe whole long letter read to him twice; he rubbed his hands when heheard of the Vidame de Pamiers' dinner--the Vidame was an oldacquaintance--and of the subsequent introduction to the Duchess; butat Blondet's name he lost himself in conjectures. What could theyounger son of a judge, a public prosecutor during the Revolution, have been doing there?

There was joy that evening among the Collection of Antiquities. Theytalked over the young Count's success. So discreet were they withregard to Mme. De Maufrigneuse, that the one man who heard the secretwas the Chevalier. There was no financial postscript at the end of theletter, no unpleasant reference to the sinews of war, which everyyoung man makes in such a case. Mlle. Armande showed it to Chesnel. Chesnel was pleased and raised not a single objection. It was clear, as the Marquis and the Chevalier agreed, that a young man in favorwith the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse would shortly be a hero at court, where in the old days women were all-powerful. The Count had not madea bad choice. The dowagers told over all the gallant adventures of theMaufrigneuses from Louis XIII. To Louis XVI. --they spared to inquireinto preceding reigns--and when all was done they were enchanted. --Mme. De Maufrigneuse was much praised for interesting herself inVicturnien. Any writer of plays in search of a piece of pure comedywould have found it well worth his while to listen to the Antiquitiesin conclave. 

Victurnien received charming letters from his father and aunt, andalso from the Chevalier. That gentleman recalled himself to theVidame's memory. He had been at Spa with M. De Pamiers in 1778, aftera certain journey made by a celebrated Hungarian princess. And Chesnelalso wrote. The fond flattery to which the unhappy boy was only toowell accustomed shone out of every page; and Mlle. Armande seemed toshare half of Mme. De Maufrigneuse's happiness. 

Thus happy in the approval of his family, the young Count made aspirited beginning in the perilous and costly ways of dandyism. He hadfive horses--he was moderate--de Marsay had fourteen! He returned theVidame's hospitality, even including Blondet in the invitation, aswell as de Marsay and Rastignac. The dinner cost five hundred francs, and the noble provincial was feted on the same scale. Victurnienplayed a good deal, and, for his misfortune, at the fashionable gameof whist. 

He laid out his days in busy idleness. Every day between twelve andthree o'clock he was with the Duchess; afterwards he went to meet herin the Bois de Boulogne and ride beside her carriage. Sometimes thecharming couple rode together, but this was early in fine summermornings. Society, balls, the theatre, and gaiety filled the Count'sevening hours. Everywhere Victurnien made a brilliant figure, everywhere he flung the pearls of his wit broadcast. He gave hisopinion on men, affairs, and events in profound sayings; he would haveput you in mind of a fruit-tree putting forth all its strength inblossom. He was leading an enervating life wasteful of money, and evenyet more wasteful, it may be of a man's soul; in that life the fairesttalents are buried out of sight, the most incorruptible honestyperishes, the best-tempered springs of will are slackened. 

The Duchess, so white and fragile and angel-like, felt attracted tothe dissipations of bachelor life; she enjoyed first nights, she likedanything amusing, anything improvised. Bohemian restaurants layoutside her experience; so d'Esgrignon got up a charming little partyat the Rocher de Cancale for her benefit, asked all the amiable scampswhom she cultivated and sermonized, and there was a vast amount ofmerriment, wit, and gaiety, and a corresponding bill to pay. Thatsupper led to others. And through it all Victurnien worshiped her asan angel. Mme. De Maufrigneuse for him was still an angel, untouchedby any taint of earth; an angel at the Varietes, where she sat out thehalf-obscene, vulgar farces, which made her laugh; an angel throughthe cross-fire of highly-flavored jests and scandalous anecdotes, which enlivened a stolen frolic; a languishing angel in the latticedbox at the Vaudeville; an angel while she criticised the postures ofopera dancers with the experience of an elderly habitue of le coin dela reine; an angel at the Porte Saint-Martin, at the little boulevardtheatres, at the masked balls, which she enjoyed like any schoolboy. She was an angel who asked him for the love that lives byself-abnegation and heroism and self-sacrifice; an angel who would haveher lover live like an English lord, with an income of a million francs. D'Esgrignon once exchanged a horse because the animal's coat did notsatisfy her notions. At play she was an angel, and certainly nobourgeoise that ever lived could have bidden d'Esgrignon "Stake forme!" in such an angelic way. She was so divinely reckless in herfolly, that a man might well have sold his soul to the devil lest thisangel should lose her taste for earthly pleasures. 

The first winter went by. The Count had drawn on M. Cardot for thetrifling sum of thirty thousand francs over and above Chesnel'sremittance. As Cardot very carefully refrained from using his right ofremonstrance, Victurnien now learned for the first time that he hadoverdrawn his account. He was the more offended by an extremely politerefusal to make any further advance, since it so happened that he hadjust lost six thousand francs at play at the club, and he could notvery well show himself there until they were paid. 

After growing indignant with Maitre Cardot, who had trusted him withthirty thousand francs (Cardot had written to Chesnel, but to the fairDuchess' favorite he made the most of his so-called confidence inhim), after all this, d'Esgrignon was obliged to ask the lawyer totell him how to set about raising the money, since debts of honor werein question. 

"Draw bills on your father's banker, and take them to hiscorrespondent; he, no doubt, will discount them for you. Then write toyour family, and tell them to remit the amount to the banker. "

An inner voice seemed to suggest du Croisier's name in thispredicament. He had seen du Croisier on his knees to the aristocracy, and of the man's real disposition he was entirely ignorant. So to duCroisier he wrote a very offhand letter, informing him that he haddrawn a bill of exchange on him for ten thousand francs, adding thatthe amount would be repaid on receipt of the letter either by M. Chesnel or by Mlle. Armande d'Esgrignon. Then he indited two touchingepistles--one to Chesnel, another to his aunt. In the matter of goingheadlong to ruin, a young man often shows singular ingenuity andability, and fortune favors him. In the morning Victurnien happened onthe name of the Paris bankers in correspondence with du Croisier, andde Marsay furnished him with the Kellers' address. De Marsay kneweverything in Paris. The Kellers took the bill and gave him the sumwithout a word, after deducting the discount. The balance of theaccount was in du Croisier's favor. 

But the gaming debt was as nothing in comparison with the state ofthings at home. Invoices showered in upon Victurnien. 

"I say! Do you trouble yourself about that sort of thing?" Rastignacsaid, laughing. "Are you putting them in order, my dear boy? I did notthink you were so business-like. "

"My dear fellow, it is quite time I thought about it; there are twentyodd thousand francs there. "

De Marsay, coming in to look up d'Esgrignon for a steeplechase, produced a dainty little pocket-book, took out twenty thousand francs, and handed them to him. 

"It is the best way of keeping the money safe, " said he; "I am twiceenchanted to have won it yesterday from my honored father, MilordDudley. "

Such French grace completely fascinated d'Esgrignon; he took it forfriendship; and as to the money, punctually forgot to pay his debtswith it, and spent it on his pleasures. The fact was that de Marsaywas looking on with an unspeakable pleasure while young d'Esgrignon"got out of his depth, " in dandy's idiom; it pleased de Marsay in allsorts of fondling ways to lay an arm on the lad's shoulder; by and byhe should feel its weight, and disappear the sooner. For de Marsay wasjealous; the Duchess flaunted her love affair; she was not at home toother visitors when d'Esgrignon was with her. And besides, de Marsaywas one of those savage humorists who delight in mischief, as Turkishwomen in the bath. So when he had carried off the prize, and bets weresettled at the tavern where they breakfasted, and a bottle or two ofgood wine had appeared, de Marsay turned to d'Esgrignon with a laugh:

"Those bills that you are worrying over are not yours, I am sure. "

"Eh! if they weren't, why should he worry himself?" asked Rastignac. 

"And whose should they be?" d'Esgrignon inquired. 

"Then you do not know the Duchess' position?" queried de Marsay, as hesprang into the saddle. 

"No, " said d'Esgrignon, his curiosity aroused. 

"Well, dear fellow, it is like this, " returned de Marsay--"thirtythousand francs to Victorine, eighteen thousand francs to Houbigaut, lesser amounts to Herbault, Nattier, Nourtier, and those Latourpeople, --altogether a hundred thousand francs. "

"An angel!" cried d'Esgrignon, with eyes uplifted to heaven. 

"This is the bill for her wings, " Rastignac cried facetiously. 

"She owes all that, my dear boy, " continued de Marsay, "preciselybecause she is an angel. But we have all seen angels in thisposition, " he added, glancing at Rastignac; "there is this about womenthat is sublime: they understand nothing of money; they do not meddlewith it, it is no affair of theirs; they are invited guests at the'banquet of life, ' as some poet or other said that came to an end inthe workhouse. "

"How do you know this when I do not?" d'Esgrignon artlessly returned. 

"You are sure to be the last to know it, just as she is sure to be thelast to hear that you are in debt. "

"I thought she had a hundred thousand livres a year, " saidd'Esgrignon. 

"Her husband, " replied de Marsay, "lives apart from her. He stays withhis regiment and practises economy, for he has one or two little debtsof his own as well, has our dear Duke. Where do you come from? Justlearn to do as we do and keep our friends' accounts for them. Mlle. Diane (I fell in love with her for the name's sake), Mlle. Dianed'Uxelles brought her husband sixty thousand livres of income; for thelast eight years she has lived as if she had two hundred thousand. Itis perfectly plain that at this moment her lands are mortgaged up totheir full value; some fine morning the crash must come, and the angelwill be put to flight by--must it be said?--by sheriff's officers thathave the effrontery to lay hands on an angel just as they might takehold of one of us. "

"Poor angel!"

"Lord! it costs a great deal to dwell in a Parisian heaven; you mustwhiten your wings and your complexion every morning, " said Rastignac. 

Now as the thought of confessing his debts to his beloved Diane hadpassed through d'Esgrignon's mind, something like a shudder ranthrough him when he remembered that he still owed sixty thousandfrancs, to say nothing of bills to come for another ten thousand. Hewent back melancholy enough. His friends remarked his ill-disguisedpreoccupation, and spoke of it among themselves at dinner. 

"Young d'Esgrignon is getting out of his depth. He is not up to Paris. He will blow his brains out. A little fool!" and so on and so on. 

D'Esgrignon, however, promptly took comfort. His servant brought himtwo letters. The first was from Chesnel. A letter from Chesnel smackedof the stale grumbling faithfulness of honesty and its consecratedformulas. With all respect he put it aside till the evening. But thesecond letter he read with unspeakable pleasure. In Ciceronianphrases, du Croisier groveled before him, like a Sganarelle before aGeronte, begging the young Count in future to spare him the affront offirst depositing the amount of the bills which he should condescend todraw. The concluding phrase seemed meant to convey the idea that herewas an open cashbox full of coin at the service of the nobled'Esgrignon family. So strong was the impression that Victurnien, likeSganarelle or Mascarille in the play, like everybody else who feels atwinge of conscience at his finger-tips, made an involuntary gesture. 

Now that he was sure of unlimited credit with the Kellers, he openedChesnel's letter gaily. He had expected four full pages, full ofexpostulation to the brim; he glanced down the sheet for the familiarwords "prudence, " "honor, " "determination to do right, " and the like, and saw something else instead which made his head swim. 

 "MONSIEUR LE COMTE, --Of all my fortune I have now but two hundred thousand francs left. I beg of you not to exceed that amount, if you should do one of the most devoted servants of your family the honor of taking it. I present my respects to you. 

 CHESNEL. "

"He is one of Plutarch's men, " Victurnien said to himself, as hetossed the letter on the table. He felt chagrined; such magnanimitymade him feel very small. 

"There! one must reform, " he thought; and instead of going to arestaurant and spending fifty or sixty francs over his dinner, heretrenched by dining with the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, and told herabout the letter. 

"I should like to see that man, " she said, letting her eyes shine liketwo fixed stars. 

"What would you do?"

"Why, he should manage my affairs for me. "

Diane de Maufrigneuse was divinely dressed; she meant her toilet to dohonor to Victurnien. The levity with which she treated his affairs or, more properly speaking, his debts fascinated him. 

The charming pair went to the Italiens. Never had that beautiful andenchanting woman looked more seraphic, more ethereal. Nobody in thehouse could have believed that she had debts which reached the sumtotal mentioned by de Marsay that very morning. No single one of thecares of earth had touched that sublime forehead of hers, full ofwoman's pride of the highest kind. In her, a pensive air seemed to besome gleam of an earthly love, nobly extinguished. The men for themost part were wagering that Victurnien, with his handsome figure, laid her under contribution; while the women, sure of their rival'ssubterfuge, admired her as Michael Angelo admired Raphael, in petto. Victurnien loved Diane, according to one of these ladies, for the sakeof her hair--she had the most beautiful fair hair in France; anothermaintained that Diane's pallor was her principal merit, for she wasnot really well shaped, her dress made the most of her figure; yetothers thought that Victurnien loved her for her foot, her one goodpoint, for she had a flat figure. But (and this brings the present-daymanner of Paris before you in an astonishing manner) whereas all themen said that the Duchess was subsidizing Victurnien's splendor, thewomen, on the other hand, gave people to understand that it wasVicturnien who paid for the angel's wings, as Rastignac said. 

As they drove back again, Victurnien had it on the tip of his tongue ascore of times to open this chapter, for the Duchess' debts weighedmore heavily upon his mind than his own; and a score of times hispurpose died away before the attitude of the divine creature besidehim. He could see her by the light of the carriage lamps; she wasbewitching in the love-languor which always seemed to be extorted bythe violence of passion from her madonna's purity. The Duchess did notfall into the mistake of talking of her virtue, of her angel's estate, as provincial women, her imitators, do. She was far too clever. Shemade him, for whom she made such great sacrifices, think these thingsfor himself. At the end of six months she could make him feel that aharmless kiss on her hand was a deadly sin; she contrived that everygrace should be extorted from her, and this with such consummate art, that it was impossible not to feel that she was more an angel thanever when she yielded. 

None but Parisian women are clever enough always to give a new charmto the moon, to romanticize the stars, to roll in the same sack ofcharcoal and emerge each time whiter than ever. This is the highestrefinement of intellectual and Parisian civilization. Women beyond theRhine or the English Channel believe nonsense of this sort when theyutter it; while your Parisienne makes her lover believe that she is anangel, the better to add to his bliss by flattering his vanity on bothsides--temporal and spiritual. Certain persons, detractors of theDuchess, maintain that she was the first dupe of her own white magic. A wicked slander. The Duchess believed in nothing but herself. 

By the end of the year 1823 the Kellers had supplied Victurnien withtwo hundred thousand francs, and neither Chesnel nor Mlle. Armandeknew anything about it. He had had, besides, two thousand crowns fromChesnel at one time and another, the better to hide the sources onwhich he was drawing. He wrote lying letters to his poor father andaunt, who lived on, happy and deceived, like most happy people underthe sun. The insidious current of life in Paris was bringing adreadful catastrophe upon the great and noble house; and only oneperson was in the secret of it. This was du Croisier. He rubbed hishands gleefully as he went past in the dark and looked in at theAntiquities. He had good hope of attaining his ends; and his ends werenot, as heretofore, the simple ruin of the d'Esgrignons, but thedishonor of their house. He felt instinctively at such times that hisrevenge was at hand; he scented it in the wind! He had been sure of itindeed from the day when he discovered that the young Count's burdenof debt was growing too heavy for the boy to bear. 

Du Croisier's first step was to rid himself of his most hated enemy, the venerable Chesnel. The good old man lived in the Rue du Bercail, in a house with a steep-pitched roof. There was a little pavedcourtyard in front, where the rose-bushes grew and clambered up to thewindows of the upper story. Behind lay a little country garden, withits box-edged borders, shut in by damp, gloomy-looking walls. Theprim, gray-painted street door, with its wicket opening and bellattached, announced quite as plainly as the official scutcheon that "anotary lives here. "

It was half-past five o'clock in the afternoon, at which hour theold man usually sat digesting his dinner. He had drawn his blackleather-covered armchair before the fire, and put on his armor, apainted pasteboard contrivance shaped like a top boot, which protectedhis stockinged legs from the heat of the fire; for it was one of thegood man's habits to sit for a while after dinner with his feet on thedogs and to stir up the glowing coals. He always ate too much; he wasfond of good living. Alas! if it had not been for that little failing, would he not have been more perfect than it is permitted to mortal manto be? Chesnel had finished his cup of coffee. His old housekeeper hadjust taken away the tray which had been used for the purpose for thelast twenty years. He was waiting for his clerks to go before hehimself went out for his game at cards, and meanwhile he was thinking--no need to ask of whom or what. A day seldom passed but he askedhimself, "Where is /he/? What is /he/ doing?" He thought that the Countwas in Italy with the fair Duchesse de Maufrigneuse. 

When every franc of a man's fortune has come to him, not byinheritance, but through his own earning and saving, it is one of hissweetest pleasures to look back upon the pains that have gone to themaking of it, and then to plan out a future for his crowns. This it isto conjugate the verb "to enjoy" in every tense. And the old lawyer, whose affections were all bound up in a single attachment, wasthinking that all the carefully-chosen, well-tilled land which he hadpinched and scraped to buy would one day go to round the d'Esgrignonestates, and the thought doubled his pleasure. His pride swelled as hesat at his ease in the old armchair; and the building of glowingcoals, which he raised with the tongs, sometimes seemed to him to bethe old noble house built up again, thanks to his care. He picturedthe young Count's prosperity, and told himself that he had done wellto live for such an aim. Chesnel was not lacking in intelligence;sheer goodness was not the sole source of his great devotion; he had apride of his own; he was like the nobles who used to rebuild a pillarin a cathedral to inscribe their name upon it; he meant his name to beremembered by the great house which he had restored. Futuregenerations of d'Esgrignons should speak of old Chesnel. Just at thispoint his old housekeeper came in with signs of alarm in hercountenance. 

"Is the house on fire, Brigitte?"

"Something of the sort, " said she. "Here is M. Du Croisier wanting tospeak to you----"

"M. Du Croisier, " repeated the old lawyer. A stab of cold misgivinggave him so sharp a pang at the heart that he dropped the tongs. "M. Du Croisier here!" thought he, "our chief enemy!"

Du Croisier came in at that moment, like a cat that scents milk in adairy. He made a bow, seated himself quietly in the easy-chair whichthe lawyer brought forward, and produced a bill for two hundred andtwenty-seven thousand francs, principal and interest, the total amountof sums advanced to M. Victurnien in bills of exchange drawn upon duCroisier, and duly honored by him. Of these, he now demanded immediatepayment, with a threat of proceeding to extremities with theheir-presumptive of the house. Chesnel turned the unlucky letters overone by one, and asked the enemy to keep the secret. This he engaged todo if he were paid within forty-eight hours. He was pressed for moneyhe had obliged various manufacturers; and there followed a series ofthe financial fictions by which neither notaries nor borrowers aredeceived. Chesnel's eyes were dim; he could scarcely keep back thetears. There was but one way of raising the money; he must mortgagehis own lands up to their full value. But when du Croisier learned thedifficulty in the way of repayment, he forgot that he was hardpressed; he no longer wanted ready money, and suddenly came out with aproposal to buy the old lawyer's property. The sale was completedwithin two days. Poor Chesnel could not bear the thought of the son ofthe house undergoing a five years' imprisonment for debt. So in a fewdays' time nothing remained to him but his practice, the sums thatwere due to him, and the house in which he lived. Chesnel, stripped ofall his lands, paced to and fro in his private office, paneled withdark oak, his eyes fixed on the beveled edges of the chestnutcross-beams of the ceiling, or on the trellised vines in the gardenoutside. He was not thinking of his farms now, or of Le Jard, his dearhouse in the country; not he. 

"What will become of him? He ought to come back; they must marry himto some rich heiress, " he said to himself; and his eyes were dim, hishead heavy. 

How to approach Mlle. Armande, and in what words to break the news toher, he did not know. The man who had just paid the debts of thefamily quaked at the thought of confessing these things. He went fromthe Rue du Bercail to the Hotel d'Esgrignon with pulses throbbing likesome girl's heart when she leaves her father's roof by stealth, not toreturn again till she is a mother and her heart is broken. 

Mlle. Armande had just received a charming letter, charming in itshypocrisy. Her nephew was the happiest man under the sun. He had beento the baths, he had been traveling in Italy with Mme. DeMaufrigneuse, and now sent his journal to his aunt. Every sentence wasinstinct with love. There were enchanting descriptions of Venice, andfascinating appreciations of the great works of Venetian art; therewere most wonderful pages full of the Duomo at Milan, and again ofFlorence; he described the Apennines, and how they differed from theAlps, and how in some village like Chiavari happiness lay all aroundyou, ready made. 

The poor aunt was under the spell. She saw the far-off country oflove, she saw, hovering above the land, the angel whose tendernessgave to all that beauty a burning glow. She was drinking in the letterat long draughts; how should it have been otherwise? The girl who hadput love from her was now a woman ripened by repressed and pent-uppassion, by all the longings continually and gladly offered up as asacrifice on the altar of the hearth. Mlle. Armande was not like theDuchess. She did not look like an angel. She was rather like thelittle, straight, slim and slender, ivory-tinted statues, which thosewonderful sculptors, the builders of cathedrals, placed here and thereabout the buildings. Wild plants sometimes find a hold in the dampniches, and weave a crown of beautiful bluebell flowers about thecarved stone. At this moment the blue buds were unfolding in the fairsaint's eyes. Mlle. Armande loved the charming couple as if they stoodapart from real life; she saw nothing wrong in a married woman's lovefor Victurnien; any other woman she would have judged harshly; but inthis case, not to have loved her nephew would have been theunpardonable sin. Aunts, mothers, and sisters have a code of their ownfor nephews and sons and brothers. 

Mlle. Armande was in Venice; she saw the lines of fairy palaces thatstand on either side of the Grand Canal; she was sitting inVicturnien's gondola; he was telling her what happiness it had been tofeel that the Duchess' beautiful hand lay in his own, to know that sheloved him as they floated together on the breast of the amorous Queenof Italian seas. But even in that moment of bliss, such as angelsknow, some one appeared in the garden walk. It was Chesnel! Alas! thesound of his tread on the gravel might have been the sound of thesands running from Death's hour-glass to be trodden under his unshodfeet. The sound, the sight of a dreadful hopelessness in Chesnel'sface, gave her that painful shock which follows a sudden recall of thesenses when the soul has sent them forth into the world of dreams. 

"What is it?" she cried, as if some stab had pierced to her heart. 

"All is lost!" said Chesnel. "M. Le Comte will bring dishonor upon thehouse if we do not set it in order. " He held out the bills, anddescribed the agony of the last few days in a few simple but vigorousand touching words. 

"He is deceiving us! The miserable boy!" cried Mlle. Armande, herheart swelling as the blood surged back to it in heavy throbs. 

"Let us both say mea culpa, mademoiselle, " the old lawyer saidstoutly; "we have always allowed him to have his own way; he neededstern guidance; he could not have it from you with your inexperienceof life; nor from me, for he would not listen to me. He has had nomother. "

"Fate sometimes deals terribly with a noble house in decay, " saidMlle. Armande, with tears in her eyes. 

The Marquis came up as she spoke. He had been walking up and down thegarden while he read the letter sent by his son after his return. Victurnien gave his itinerary from an aristocrat's point of view;telling how he had been welcomed by the greatest Italian families ofGenoa, Turin, Milan, Florence, Venice, Rome, and Naples. Thisflattering reception he owed to his name, he said, and partly, perhaps, to the Duchess as well. In short, he had made his appearancemagnificently, and as befitted a d'Esgrignon. 

"Have you been at your old tricks, Chesnel?" asked the Marquis. 

Mlle. Armande made Chesnel an eager sign, dreadful to see. Theyunderstood each other. The poor father, the flower of feudal honor, must die with all his illusions. A compact of silence and devotion wasratified between the two noble hearts by a simple inclination of thehead. 

"Ah! Chesnel, it was not exactly in this way that the d'Esgrignonswent into Italy at the end of the fourteenth century, when MarshalTrivulzio, in the service of the King of France, served under ad'Esgrignon, who had a Bayard too under his orders. Other times, otherpleasures. And, for that matter, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse is atleast the equal of a Marchesa di Spinola. "

And, on the strength of his genealogical tree, the old man swunghimself off with a coxcomb's air, as if he himself had once made aconquest of the Marchesa di Spinola, and still possessed the Duchessof to-day. 

The two companions in unhappiness were left together on the gardenbench, with the same thought for a bond of union. They sat for a longtime, saying little save vague, unmeaning words, watching the fatherwalk away in his happiness, gesticulating as if he were talking tohimself. 

"What will become of him now?" Mlle. Armande asked after a while. 

"Du Croisier has sent instructions to the MM. Keller; he is not to beallowed to draw any more without authorization. "

"And there are debts, " continued Mlle. Armande. 

"I am afraid so. "

"If he is left without resources, what will he do?"

"I dare not answer that question to myself. "

"But he must be drawn out of that life, he must come back to us, or hewill have nothing left. "

"And nothing else left to him, " Chesnel said gloomily. But Mlle. Armande as yet did not and could not understand the full force ofthose words. 

"Is there any hope of getting him away from that woman, that Duchess?Perhaps she leads him on. "

"He would not stick at a crime to be with her, " said Chesnel, tryingto pave the way to an intolerable thought by others less intolerable. 

"Crime, " repeated Mlle. Armande. "Oh, Chesnel, no one but you wouldthink of such a thing!" she added, with a withering look; before sucha look from a woman's eyes no mortal can stand. "There is but onecrime that a noble can commit--the crime of high treason; and when heis beheaded, the block is covered with a black cloth, as it is forkings. "

"The times have changed very much, " said Chesnel, shaking his head. Victurnien had thinned his last thin, white hairs. "Our Martyr-Kingdid not die like the English King Charles. "

That thought soothed Mlle. Armande's splendid indignation; a shudderran through her; but still she did not realize what Chesnel meant. 

"To-morrow we will decide what we must do, " she said; "it needsthought. At the worst, we have our lands. "

"Yes, " said Chesnel. "You and M. Le Marquis own the estate conjointly;but the larger part of it is yours. You can raise money upon itwithout saying a word to him. "

The players at whist, reversis, boston, and backgammon noticed thatevening that Mlle. Armande's features, usually so serene and pure, showed signs of agitation. 

"That poor heroic child!" said the old Marquise de Casteran, "she mustbe suffering still. A woman never knows what her sacrifices to herfamily may cost her. "

Next day it was arranged with Chesnel that Mlle. Armande should go toParis to snatch her nephew from perdition. If any one could carry offVicturnien, was it not the woman whose motherly heart yearned overhim? Mlle. Armande made up her mind that she would go to the Duchessede Maufrigneuse and tell her all. Still, some sort of pretext wasnecessary to explain the journey to the Marquis and the whole town. Atsome cost to her maidenly delicacy, Mlle. Armande allowed it to bethought that she was suffering from a complaint which called for aconsultation of skilled and celebrated physicians. Goodness knowswhether the town talked of this or no! But Mlle. Armande saw thatsomething far more than her own reputation was at stake. She set out. Chesnel brought her his last bag of louis; she took it, without payingany attention to it, as she took her white capuchine and threadmittens. 

"Generous girl! What grace!" he said, as he put her into the carriagewith her maid, a woman who looked like a gray sister. 

Du Croisier had thought out his revenge, as provincials think outeverything. For studying out a question in all its bearings, there areno folk in this world like savages, peasants, and provincials; andthis is how, when they proceed from thought to action, you find everycontingency provided for from beginning to end. Diplomatists arechildren compared with these classes of mammals; they have time beforethem, an element which is lacking to those people who are obliged tothink about a great many things, to superintend the progress of allkinds of schemes, to look forward for all sorts of contingencies inthe wider interests of human affairs. Had de Croisier sounded poorVicturnien's nature so well, that he foresaw how easily the youngCount would lend himself to his schemes of revenge? Or was he merelyprofiting by an opportunity for which he had been on the watch foryears? One circumstance there was, to be sure, in his manner ofpreparing his stroke, which shows a certain skill. Who was it thatgave du Croisier warning of the moment? Was it the Kellers? Or couldit have been President du Ronceret's son, then finishing his lawstudies in Paris?

Du Croisier wrote to Victurnien, telling him that the Kellers had beeninstructed to advance no more money; and that letter was timed toarrive just as the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse was in the utmostperplexity, and the Comte d'Esgrignon consumed by the sense of povertyas dreadful as it was cunningly hidden. The wretched young man wasexerting all his ingenuity to seem as if he were wealthy!

Now in the letter which informed the victim that in future the Kellerswould make no further advances without security, there was a tolerablywide space left between the forms of an exaggerated respect and thesignature. It was quite easy to tear off the best part of the letterand convert it into a bill of exchange for any amount. The diabolicalmissive had been enclosed in an envelope, so that the other side ofthe sheet was blank. When it arrived, Victurnien was writhing in thelowest depths of despair. After two years of the most prosperous, sensual, thoughtless, and luxurious life, he found himself face toface with the most inexorable poverty; it was an absoluteimpossibility to procure money. There had been some throes of crisisbefore the journey came to an end. With the Duchess' help he hadmanaged to extort various sums from bankers; but it had been with thegreatest difficulty, and, moreover, those very amounts were about tostart up again before him as overdue bills of exchange in all theirrigor, with a stern summons to pay from the Bank of France and thecommercial court. All through the enjoyments of those last weeks theunhappy boy had felt the point of the Commander's sword; at everysupper-party he heard, like Don Juan, the heavy tread of the statueoutside upon the stairs. He felt an unaccountable creeping of theflesh, a warning that the sirocco of debt is nigh at hand. He reckonedon chance. For five years he had never turned up a blank in thelottery, his purse had always been replenished. After Chesnel had comedu Croisier (he told himself), after du Croisier surely another goldmine would pour out its wealth. And besides, he was winning great sumsat play; his luck at play had saved him several unpleasant stepsalready; and often a wild hope sent him to the Salon des Etrangersonly to lose his winnings afterwards at whist at the club. His lifefor the past two months had been like the immortal finale of Mozart'sDon Giovanni; and of a truth, if a young man has come to such a plightas Victurnien's, that finale is enough to make him shudder. Cananything better prove the enormous power of music than that sublimerendering of the disorder and confusion arising out of a life whollygive up to sensual indulgence? that fearful picture of a deliberateeffort to shut out the thought of debts and duels, deceit and evilluck? In that music Mozart disputes the palm with Moliere. Theterrific finale, with its glow, its power, its despair and laughter, its grisly spectres and elfish women, centres about the prodigal'slast effort made in the after-supper heat of wine, the franticstruggle which ends the drama. Victurnien was living through thisinfernal poem, and alone. He saw visions of himself--a friendless, solitary outcast, reading the words carved on the stone, the lastwords on the last page of the book that had held him spellbound--THEEND!

Yes; for him all would be at an end, and that soon. Already he saw thecold, ironical eyes which his associates would turn upon him, andtheir amusement over his downfall. Some of them he knew were playinghigh on that gambling-table kept open all day long at the Bourse, orin private houses at the clubs, and anywhere and everywhere in Paris;but not one of these men could spare a banknote to save an intimate. There was no help for it--Chesnel must be ruined. He had devouredChesnel's living. 

He sat with the Duchess in their box at the Italiens, the whole houseenvying them their happiness, and while he smiled at her, all theFuries were tearing at his heart. Indeed, to give some idea of thedepths of doubt, despair, and incredulity in which the boy wasgroveling; he who so clung to life--the life which the angel had madeso fair--who so loved it, that he would have stooped to basenessmerely to live; he, the pleasure-loving scapegrace, the degenerated'Esgrignon, had even taken out his pistols, had gone so far as tothink of suicide. He who would never have brooked the appearance of aninsult was abusing himself in language which no man is likely to hearexcept from himself. 

He left du Croisier's letter lying open on the bed. Josephin hadbrought it in at nine o'clock. Victurnien's furniture had beenseized, but he slept none the less. After he came back from theOpera, he and the Duchess had gone to a voluptuous retreat, wherethey often spent a few hours together after the most brilliantcourt balls and evening parties and gaieties. Appearances werevery cleverly saved. Their love-nest was a garret like any otherto all appearance; Mme. De Maufrigneuse was obliged to bow herhead with its court feathers or wreath of flowers to enter in atthe door; but within all the peris of the East had made thechamber fair. And now that the Count was on the brink of ruin, hehad longed to bid farewell to the dainty nest, which he had builtto realize a day-dream worthy of his angel. Presently adversitywould break the enchanted eggs; there would be no brood of whitedoves, no brilliant tropical birds, no more of the thousandbright-winged fancies which hover above our heads even to thelast days of our lives. Alas! alas! in three days he must begone; his bills had fallen into the hands of the money-lenders, the law proceedings had reached the last stage. 

An evil thought crossed his brain. He would fly with the Duchess; theywould live in some undiscovered nook in the wilds of North or SouthAmerica; but--he would fly with a fortune, and leave his creditors toconfront their bills. To carry out the plan, he had only to cut offthe lower portion of that letter with du Croisier's signature, and tofill in the figures to turn it into a bill, and present it to theKellers. There was a dreadful struggle with temptation; tears shed, but the honor of the family triumphed, subject to one condition. Victurnien wanted to be sure of his beautiful Diane; he would donothing unless she should consent to their flight. So he went to theDuchess in the Rue Faubourg Saint-Honore, and found her in coquettishmorning dress, which cost as much in thought as in money, a fit dressin which to begin to play the part of Angel at eleven o'clock in themorning. 

Mme. De Maufrigneuse was somewhat pensive. Cares of a similar kindwere gnawing her mind; but she took them gallantly. Of all the variousfeminine organizations classified by physiologists, there is one thathas something indescribably terrible about it. Such women combinestrength of soul and clear insight, with a faculty for promptdecision, and a recklessness, or rather resolution in a crisis whichwould shake a man's nerves. And these powers lie out of sight beneathan appearance of the most graceful helplessness. Such women only amongwomankind afford examples of a phenomenon which Buffon recognized inmen alone, to wit, the union, or rather the disunion, of two differentnatures in one human being. Other women are wholly women; whollytender, wholly devoted, wholly mothers, completely null and completelytiresome; nerves and brain and blood are all in harmony; but theDuchess, and others like her, are capable of rising to the highestheights of feelings, or of showing the most selfish insensibility. Itis one of the glories of Moliere that he has given us a wonderfulportrait of such a woman, from one point of view only, in thatgreatest of his full-length figures--Celimene; Celimene is the typicalaristocratic woman, as Figaro, the second edition of Panurge, represents the people. 

So, the Duchess, being overwhelmed with debt, laid it upon herself togive no more than a moment's thought to the avalanche of cares, and totake her resolution once and for all; Napoleon could take up or laydown the burden of his thoughts in precisely the same way. The Duchesspossessed the faculty of standing aloof from herself; she could lookon as a spectator at the crash when it came, instead of submitting tobe buried beneath. This was certainly great, but repulsive in a woman. When she awoke in the morning she collected her thoughts; and by thetime she had begun to dress she had looked at the danger in itsfullest extent and faced the possibilities of terrific downfall. Shepondered. Should she take refuge in a foreign country? Or should shego to the King and declare her debts to him? Or again, should shefascinate a du Tillet or a Nucingen, and gamble on the stock exchangeto pay her creditors? The city man would find the money; he would beintelligent enough to bring her nothing but the profits, without somuch as mentioning the losses, a piece of delicacy which would glossall over. The catastrophe, and these various ways of averting it, hadall been reviewed quite coolly, calmly, and without trepidation. 

As a naturalist takes up some king of butterflies and fastens him downon cotton-wool with a pin, so Mme. De Maufrigneuse had plucked loveout of her heart while she pondered the necessity of the moment, andwas quite ready to replace the beautiful passion on its immaculatesetting so soon as her duchess' coronet was safe. /She/ knew none of thehesitation which Cardinal Richelieu hid from all the world but PereJoseph; none of the doubts that Napoleon kept at first entirely tohimself. "Either the one or the other, " she told herself. 

She was sitting by the fire, giving orders for her toilette for adrive in the Bois if the weather should be fine, when Victurnien camein. 

The Comte d'Esgrignon, with all his stifled capacity, his so keenintellect, was in exactly the state which might have been looked forin the woman. His heart was beating violently, the perspiration brokeout over him as he stood in his dandy's trappings; he was afraid asyet to lay a hand on the corner-stone which upheld the pyramid of hislife with Diane. So much it cost him to know the truth. The cleverestmen are fain to deceive themselves on one or two points if the truthonce known is likely to humiliate them in their own eyes, and damagethemselves with themselves. Victurnien forced his own irresolutioninto the field by committing himself. 

"What is the matter with you?" Diane de Maufrigneuse had said at once, at the sight of her beloved Victurnien's face. 

"Why, dear Diane, I am in such a perplexity; a man gone to the bottomand at his last gasp is happy in comparison. "

"Pshaw! it is nothing, " said she; "you are a child. Let us see now;tell me about it. "

"I am hopelessly in debt. I have come to the end of my tether. "

"Is that all?" said she, smiling at him. "Money matters can always bearranged somehow or other; nothing is irretrievable except disastersin love. "

Victurnien's mind being set at rest by this swift comprehension of hisposition, he unrolled the bright-colored web of his life for the lasttwo years and a half; but it was the seamy side of it which hedisplayed with something of genius, and still more of wit, to hisDiane. He told his tale with the inspiration of the moment, whichfails no one in great crises; he had sufficient artistic skill to setit off by a varnish of delicate scorn for men and things. It was anaristocrat who spoke. And the Duchess listened as she could listen. 

One knee was raised, for she sat with her foot on a stool. She restedher elbow on her knee and leant her face on her hand so that herfingers closed daintily over her shapely chin. Her eyes never lefthis; but thoughts by myriads flitted under the blue surface, likegleams of stormy light between two clouds. Her forehead was calm, hermouth gravely intent--grave with love; her lips were knotted fast byVicturnien's lips. To have her listening thus was to believe that adivine love flowed from her heart. Wherefore, when the Count hadproposed flight to this soul, so closely knit to his own, he could nothelp crying, "You are an angel!"

The fair Maufrigneuse made silent answer; but she had not spoken asyet. 

"Good, very good, " she said at last. (She had not given herself up tothe love expressed in her face; her mind had been entirely absorbed bydeep-laid schemes which she kept to herself. ) "But /that/ is not thequestion, dear. " (The "angel" was only "that" by this time. ) "Let usthink of your affairs. Yes, we will go, and the sooner the better. Arrange it all; I will follow you. It is glorious to leave Paris andthe world behind. I will set about my preparations in such a way thatno one can suspect anything. "

/I will follow you/! Just so Mlle. Mars might have spoken those words tosend a thrill through two thousand listening men and women. When aDuchesse de Maufrigneuse offers, in such words, to make such asacrifice to love, she has paid her debt. How should Victurnien speakof sordid details after that? He could so much the better hide hisschemes, because Diane was particularly careful not to inquire intothem. She was now, and always, as de Marsay said, an invited guest ata banquet wreathed with roses, a banquet which mankind, as in dutybound, made ready for her. 

Victurnien would not go till the promise had been sealed. He must drawcourage from his happiness before he could bring himself to do a deedon which, as he inwardly told himself, people would be certain to puta bad construction. Still (and this was the thought that decided him)he counted on his aunt and father to hush up the affair; he evencounted on Chesnel. Chesnel would think of one more compromise. Besides, "this business, " as he called it in his thoughts, was theonly way of raising money on the family estate. With three hundredthousand francs, he and Diane would lead a happy life hidden in somepalace in Venice; and there they would forget the world. They wentthrough their romance in advance. 

Next day Victurnien made out a bill for three hundred thousand francs, and took it to the Kellers. The Kellers advanced the money, for duCroisier happened to have a balance at the time; but they wrote to lethim know that he must not draw again on them without giving themnotice. Du Croisier, much astonished, asked for a statement ofaccounts. It was sent. Everything was explained. The day of hisvengeance had arrived. 

When Victurnien had drawn "his" money, he took it to Mme. DeMaufrigneuse. She locked up the banknotes in her desk, and proposed tobid the world farewell by going to the Opera to see it for the lasttime. Victurnien was thoughtful, absent, and uneasy. He was beginningto reflect. He thought that his seat in the Duchess' box might costhim dear; that perhaps, when he had put the three hundred thousandfrancs in safety, it would be better to travel post, to fall atChesnel's feet, and tell him all. But before they left theopera-house, the Duchess, in spite of herself, gave Victurnien anadorable glance, her eyes were shining with the desire to go back oncemore to bid farewell to the nest which she loved so much. And boy thathe was, he lost a night. 

The next day, at three o'clock, he was back again at the Hotel deMaufrigneuse; he had come to take the Duchess' orders for that night'sescape. And, "Why should we go?" asked she; "I have thought it allout. The Vicomtesse de Beauseant and the Duchesse de Langeaisdisappeared. If I go too, it will be something quite commonplace. Wewill brave the storm. It will be a far finer thing to do. I am sure ofsuccess. " Victurnien's eyes dazzled; he felt as if his skin weredissolving and the blood oozing out all over him. 

"What is the matter with you?" cried the fair Diane, noticing ahesitation which a woman never forgives. Your truly adroit lover willhasten to agree with any fancy that Woman may take into her head, andsuggest reasons for doing otherwise, while leaving her free exerciseof her right to change her mind, her intentions, and sentimentsgenerally as often as she pleases. Victurnien was angry for the firsttime, angry with the wrath of a weak man of poetic temperament; it wasa storm of rain and lightning flashes, but no thunder followed. Theangel on whose faith he had risked more than his life, the honor ofhis house, was very roughly handled. 

"So, " said she, "we have come to this after eighteen months oftenderness! You are unkind, very unkind. Go away!--I do not want tosee you again. I thought that you loved me. You do not. "

"/I do not love you/?" repeated he, thunderstruck by the reproach. 

"No, monsieur. "

"And yet----" he cried. "Ah! if you but knew what I have just done foryour sake!"

"And how have you done so much for me, monsieur? As if a man ought notto do anything for a woman that has done so much for him. "

"You are not worthy to know it!" Victurnien cried in a passion ofanger. 

"Oh!"

After that sublime, "Oh!" Diane bowed her head on her hand and sat, still, cold, and implacable as angels naturally may be expected to do, seeing that they share none of the passions of humanity. At the sightof the woman he loved in this terrible attitude, Victurnien forgot hisdanger. Had he not just that moment wronged the most angelic creatureon earth? He longed for forgiveness, he threw himself before her, hekissed her feet, he pleaded, he wept. Two whole hours the unhappyyoung man spent in all kinds of follies, only to meet the same coldface, while the great silent tears dropping one by one, were dried assoon as they fell lest the unworthy lover should try to wipe themaway. The Duchess was acting a great agony, one of those hours whichstamp the woman who passes through them as something august andsacred. 

Two more hours went by. By this time the Count had gained possessionof Diane's hand; it felt cold and spiritless. The beautiful hand, withall the treasures in its grasp, might have been supple wood; there wasnothing of Diane in it; he had taken it, it had not been given to him. As for Victurnien, the spirit had ebbed out of his frame, he hadceased to think. He would not have seen the sun in heaven. What was tobe done? What course should he take? What resolution should he make?The man who can keep his head in such circumstances must be made ofthe same stuff as the convict who spent the night in robbing theBibliotheque Royale of its gold medals, and repaired to his honestbrother in the morning with a request to melt down the plunder. "Whatis to be done?" cried the brother. "Make me some coffee, " replied thethief. Victurnien sank into a bewildered stupor, darkness settled downover his brain. Visions of past rapture flitted across the misty gloomlike the figures that Raphael painted against a black background; tothese he must bid farewell. Inexorable and disdainful, the Duchessplayed with the tip of her scarf. She looked in irritation atVicturnien from time to time; she coquetted with memories, she spoketo her lover of his rivals as if anger had finally decided her toprefer one of them to a man who could so change in one moment aftertwenty-eight months of love. 

"Ah! that charming young Felix de Vandenesse, so faithful as he was toMme. De Mortsauf, would never have permitted himself such a scene! Hecan love, can de Vandenesse! De Marsay, that terrible de Marsay, sucha tiger as everyone thought him, was rough with other men; but likeall strong men, he kept his gentleness for women. Montriveau trampledthe Duchesse de Langeais under foot, as Othello killed Desdemona, in aburst of fury which at any rate proved the extravagance of his love. It was not like a paltry squabble. There was rapture in being socrushed. Little, fair-haired, slim, and slender men loved to tormentwomen; they could only reign over poor, weak creatures; it pleasedthem to have some ground for believing that they were men. The tyrannyof love was their one chance of asserting their power. She did notknow why she had put herself at the mercy of fair hair. Such men as deMarsay, Montriveau, and Vandenesse, dark-haired and well grown, had aray of sunlight in their eyes. "

It was a storm of epigrams. Her speeches, like bullets, came hissingpast his ears. Every word that Diane hurled at him was triple-barbed;she humiliated, stung, and wounded him with an art that was all herown, as half a score of savages can torture an enemy bound to a stake. 

"You are mad!" he cried at last, at the end of his patience, and outhe went in God knows what mood. He drove as if he had never handledthe reins before, locked his wheels in the wheels of other vehicles, collided with the curbstone in the Place Louis-Quinze, went he knewnot whither. The horse, left to its own devices, made a bolt for thestable along the Quai d'Orsay; but as he turned into the Rue del'Universite, Josephin appeared to stop the runaway. 

"You cannot go home, sir, " the old man said, with a scared face; "theyhave come with a warrant to arrest you. "

Victurnien thought that he had been arrested on the criminal charge, albeit there had not been time for the public prosecutor to receivehis instructions. He had forgotten the matter of the bills ofexchange, which had been stirred up again for some days past in theform of orders to pay, brought by the officers of the court withaccompaniments in the shape of bailiffs, men in possession, magistrates, commissaries, policemen, and other representatives ofsocial order. Like most guilty creatures, Victurnien had forgotteneverything but his crime. 

"It is all over with me, " he cried. 

"No, M. Le Comte, drive as fast as you can to the Hotel du Bon laFontaine, in the Rue de Grenelle. Mlle. Armande is waiting there foryou, the horses have been put in, she will take you with her. "

Victurnien, in his trouble, caught like a drowning man at the branchthat came to his hand; he rushed off to the inn, reached the place, and flung his arms about his aunt. Mlle. Armande cried as if her heartwould break; any one might have thought that she had a share in hernephew's guilt. They stepped into the carriage. A few minutes laterthey were on the road to Brest, and Paris lay behind them. Victurnienuttered not a sound; he was paralyzed. And when aunt and nephew beganto speak, they talked at cross purposes; Victurnien, still laboringunder the unlucky misapprehension which flung him into Mlle. Armande'sarms, was thinking of his forgery; his aunt had the debts and thebills on her mind. 

"You know all, aunt, " he had said. 

"Poor boy, yes, but we are here. I am not going to scold you just yet. Take heart. "

"I must hide somewhere. "

"Perhaps. . . . Yes, it is a very good idea. "

"Perhaps I might get into Chesnel's house without being seen if wetimed ourselves to arrive in the middle of the night?"

"That will be best. We shall be better able to hide this from mybrother. --Poor angel! how unhappy he is!" said she, petting theunworthy child. 

"Ah! now I begin to know what dishonor means; it has chilled my love. "

"Unhappy boy; what bliss and what misery!" And Mlle. Armande drew hisfevered face to her breast and kissed his forehead, cold and dampthough it was, as the holy women might have kissed the brow of thedead Christ when they laid Him in His grave clothes. Following out theexcellent scheme suggested by the prodigal son, he was brought bynight to the quiet house in the Rue du Bercail; but chance ordered itthat by so doing he ran straight into the wolf's jaws, as the sayinggoes. That evening Chesnel had been making arrangements to sell hisconnection to M. Lepressoir's head-clerk. M. Lepressoir was the notaryemployed by the Liberals, just as Chesnel's practice lay among thearistocratic families. The young fellow's relatives were rich enoughto pay Chesnel the considerable sum of a hundred thousand francs incash. 

Chesnel was rubbing his hands. "A hundred thousand francs will go along way in buying up debts, " he thought. "The young man is paying ahigh rate of interest on his loans. We will lock him up down here. Iwill go yonder myself and bring those curs to terms. "

Chesnel, honest Chesnel, upright, worthy Chesnel, called his darlingComte Victurnien's creditors "curs. "

Meanwhile his successor was making his way along the Rue du Bercailjust as Mlle. Armande's traveling carriage turned into it. Any youngman might be expected to feel some curiosity if he saw a travelingcarriage stop at a notary's door in such a town and at such an hour ofthe night; the young man in question was sufficiently inquisitive tostand in a doorway and watch. He saw Mlle. Armande alight. 

"Mlle. Armande d'Esgrignon at this time of night!" said he to himself. "What can be going forward at the d'Esgrignons'?"

At the sight of mademoiselle, Chesnel opened the door circumspectlyand set down the light which he was carrying; but when he looked outand saw Victurnien, Mlle. Armande's first whispered word made thewhole thing plain to him. He looked up and down the street; it seemedquite deserted; he beckoned, and the young Count sprang out of thecarriage and entered the courtyard. All was lost. Chesnel's successorhad discovered Victurnien's hiding place. 

Victurnien was hurried into the house and installed in a room beyondChesnel's private office. No one could enter it except across the oldman's dead body. 

"Ah! M. Le Comte!" exclaimed Chesnel, notary no longer. 

"Yes, monsieur, " the Count answered, understanding his old friend'sexclamation. "I did not listen to you; and now I have fallen into thedepths, and I must perish. "

"No, no, " the good man answered, looking triumphantly from Mlle. Armande to the Count. "I have sold my connection. I have been workingfor a very long time now, and am thinking of retiring. By noonto-morrow I shall have a hundred thousand francs; many things can besettled with that. Mademoiselle, you are tired, " he added; "go back tothe carriage and go home and sleep. Business to-morrow. "

"Is he safe?" returned she, looking at Victurnien. 

"Yes. "

She kissed her nephew; a few tears fell on his forehead. Then shewent. 

"My good Chesnel, " said the Count, when they began to talk ofbusiness, "what are your hundred thousand francs in such a position asmine? You do not know the full extent of my troubles, I think. "

Victurnien explained the situation. Chesnel was thunderstruck. But forthe strength of his devotion, he would have succumbed to this blow. Tears streamed from the eyes that might well have had no tears left toshed. For a few moments he was a child again, for a few moments he wasbereft of his senses; he stood like a man who should find his ownhouse on fire, and through a window see the cradle ablaze and hear thehiss of the flames on his children's curls. He rose to his full height--il se dressa en pied, as Amyot would have said; he seemed to growtaller; he raised his withered hands and wrung them despairingly andwildly. 

"If only your father may die and never know this, young man! To be aforger is enough; a parricide you must not be. Fly, you say? No. Theywould condemn you for contempt of court! Oh, wretched boy! Why did younot forge /my/ signature? /I/ would have paid; I should not have takenthe bill to the public prosecutor. --Now I can do nothing. You havebrought me to a stand in the lowest pit in hell!--Du Croisier! Whatwill come of it? What is to be done?--If you had killed a man, theremight be some help for it. But forgery--/forgery/! And time--the timeis flying, " he went on, shaking his fist towards the old clock. "Youwill want a sham passport now. One crime leads to another. First, " headded, after a pause, "first of all we must save the house ofd'Esgrignon. "

"But the money is still in Mme. De Maufrigneuse's keeping, " exclaimedVicturnien. 

"Ah!" exclaimed Chesnel. "Well, there is some hope left--a faint hope. Could we soften du Croisier, I wonder, or buy him over? He shall haveall the lands if he likes. I will go to him; I will wake him and offerhim all we have. --Besides, it was not you who forged that bill; it wasI. I will go to jail; I am too old for the hulks, they can only put mein prison. "

"But the body of the bill is in my handwriting, " objected Victurnien, without a sign of surprise at this reckless devotion. 

"Idiot! . . . That is, pardon, M. Le Comte. Josephin should have beenmade to write it, " the old notary cried wrathfully. "He is a goodcreature; he would have taken it all on his shoulders. But there is anend of it; the world is falling to pieces, " the old man continued, sinking exhausted into a chair. "Du Croisier is a tiger; we must becareful not to rouse him. What time is it? Where is the draft? If itis at Paris, it might be bought back from the Kellers; they mightaccommodate us. Ah! but there are dangers on all sides; a single falsestep means ruin. Money is wanted in any case. But there! nobody knowsyou are here, you must live buried away in the cellar if needs must. Iwill go at once to Paris as fast as I can; I can hear the mail coachfrom Brest. "

In a moment the old man recovered the faculties of his youth--hisagility and vigor. He packed up clothes for the journey, took money, brought a six-pound loaf to the little room beyond the office, andturned the key on his child by adoption. 

"Not a sound in here, " he said, "no light at night; and stop here tillI come back, or you will go to the hulks. Do you understand, M. LeComte? Yes, /to the hulks/! if anybody in a town like this knows thatyou are here. "

With that Chesnel went out, first telling his housekeeper to give outthat he was ill, to allow no one to come into the house, to sendeverybody away, and to postpone business of every kind for three days. He wheedled the manager of the coach-office, made up a tale for hisbenefit--he had the makings of an ingenious novelist in him--andobtained a promise that if there should be a place, he should have it, passport or no passport, as well as a further promise to keep thehurried departure a secret. Luckily, the coach was empty when itarrived. 

In the middle of the following night Chesnel was set down in Paris. Atnine o'clock in the morning he waited on the Kellers, and learned thatthe fatal draft had returned to du Croisier three days since; butwhile obtaining this information, he in no way committed himself. Before he went away he inquired whether the draft could be recoveredif the amount were refunded. Francois Keller's answer was to theeffect that the document was du Croisier's property, and that it wasentirely in his power to keep or return it. Then, in desperation, theold man went to the Duchess. 

Mme. De Maufrigneuse was not at home to any visitor at that hour. Chesnel, feeling that every moment was precious, sat down in the hall, wrote a few lines, and succeeded in sending them to the lady by dintof wheedling, fascinating, bribing, and commanding the most insolentand inaccessible servants in the world. The Duchess was still in bed;but, to the great astonishment of her household, the old man in blackknee-breeches, ribbed stockings, and shoes with buckles to them, wasshown into her room. 

"What is it, monsieur?" she asked, posing in her disorder. "What doeshe want of me, ungrateful that he is?"

"It is this, Mme. La Duchesse, " the good man exclaimed, "you have ahundred thousand crowns belonging to us. "

"Yes, " began she. "What does it signify----?"

"The money was gained by a forgery, for which we are going to thehulks, a forgery which we committed for love of you, " Chesnel saidquickly. "How is it that you did not guess it, so clever as you are?Instead of scolding the boy, you ought to have had the truth out ofhim, and stopped him while there was time, and saved him. "

At the first words the Duchess understood; she felt ashamed of herbehavior to so impassioned a lover, and afraid besides that she mightbe suspected of complicity. In her wish to prove that she had nottouched the money left in her keeping, she lost all regard forappearances; and besides, it did not occur to her that the notary wasa man. She flung off the eider-down quilt, sprang to her desk(flitting past the lawyer like an angel out of one of the vignetteswhich illustrate Lamartine's books), held out the notes, and went backin confusion to bed. 

"You are an angel, madame. " (She was to be an angel for all the world, it seemed. ) "But this will not be the end of it. I count upon yourinfluence to save us. "

"To save you! I will do it or die! Love that will not shrink from acrime must be love indeed. Is there a woman in the world for whom sucha thing has been done? Poor boy! Come, do not lose time, dear M. Chesnel; and count upon me as upon yourself. "

"Mme. La Duchesse! Mme. La Duchesse!" It was all that he could say, soovercome was he. He cried, he could have danced; but he was afraid oflosing his senses, and refrained. 

"Between us, we will save him, " she said, as he left the room. 

Chesnel went straight to Josephin. Josephin unlocked the young Count'sdesk and writing-table. Very luckily, the notary found letters whichmight be useful, letters from du Croisier and the Kellers. Then hetook a place in a diligence which was just about to start; and by dintof fees to the postilions, the lumbering vehicle went as quickly asthe coach. His two fellow-passengers on the journey happened to be inas great a hurry as himself, and readily agreed to take their meals inthe carriage. Thus swept over the road, the notary reached the Rue duBercail, after three days of absence, an hour before midnight. And yethe was too late. He saw the gendarmes at the gate, crossed thethreshold, and met the young Count in the courtyard. Victurnien hadbeen arrested. If Chesnel had had the power, he would beyond a doubthave killed the officers and men; as it was, he could only fall onVicturnien's neck. 

"If I cannot hush this matter up, you must kill yourself before theindictment is made out, " he whispered. But Victurnien had sunk intosuch stupor, that he stared back uncomprehendingly. 

"Kill myself?" he repeated. 

"Yes. If your courage should fail, my boy, count upon me, " saidChesnel, squeezing Victurnien's hand. 

In spite of the anguish of mind and tottering limbs, he stood firmlyplanted, to watch the son of his heart, the Comte d'Esgrignon, go outof the courtyard between two gendarmes, with the commissary, thejustice of the peace, and the clerk of the court; and not until thefigures had disappeared, and the sound of footsteps had died away intosilence, did he recover his firmness and presence of mind. 

"You will catch cold, sir, " Brigitte remonstrated. 

"The devil take you!" cried her exasperated master. 

Never in the nine-and-twenty years that Brigitte had been in hisservice had she heard such words from him! Her candle fell out of herhands, but Chesnel neither heeded his housekeeper's alarm nor heardher exclaim. He hurried off towards the Val-Noble. 

"He is out of his mind, " said she; "after all, it is no wonder. Butwhere is he off to? I cannot possibly go after him. What will becomeof him? Suppose that he should drown himself?"

And Brigitte went to waken the head-clerk and send him to look alongthe river bank; the river had a gloomy reputation just then, for therehad lately been two cases of suicide--one a young man full of promise, and the other a girl, a victim of seduction. Chesnel went straight tothe Hotel du Croisier. There lay his only hope. The law requires thata charge of forgery must be brought by a private individual. It wasstill possible to withdraw if du Croisier chose to admit that therehad been a misapprehension; and Chesnel had hopes, even then, ofbuying the man over. 

M. And Mme. Du Croisier had much more company than usual that evening. Only a few persons were in the secret. M. Du Ronceret, president ofthe Tribunal; M. Sauvager, deputy Public Prosecutor; and M. DuCoudrai, a registrar of mortgages, who had lost his post by voting onthe wrong side, were the only persons who were supposed to know aboutit; but Mesdames du Ronceret and du Coudrai had told the news, instrict confidence, to one or two intimate friends, so that it hadspread half over the semi-noble, semi-bourgeois assembly at M. DuCroisier's. Everybody felt the gravity of the situation, but no oneventured to speak of it openly; and, moreover, Mme. Du Croisier'sattachment to the upper sphere was so well known, that people scarcelydared to mention the disaster which had befallen the d'Esgrignons orto ask for particulars. The persons most interested were waiting tillgood Mme. Du Croisier retired, for that lady always retreated to herroom at the same hour to perform her religious exercises as far aspossible out of her husband's sight. 

Du Croisier's adherents, knowing the secret and the plans of the greatcommercial power, looked round when the lady of the house disappeared;but there were still several persons present whose opinions orinterests marked them out as untrustworthy, so they continued to play. About half past eleven all had gone save intimates: M. Sauvager, M. Camusot, the examining magistrate, and his wife, M. And Mme. DuRonceret and their son Fabien, M. And Mme. Du Coudrai, and JosephBlondet, the eldest of an old judge; ten persons in all. 

It is told of Talleyrand that one fatal day, three hours aftermidnight, he suddenly interrupted a game of cards in the Duchesse deLuynes' house by laying down his watch on the table and asking theplayers whether the Prince de Conde had any child but the Ducd'Enghien. 

"Why do you ask?" returned Mme. De Luynes, "when you know so well thathe has not. "

"Because if the Prince has no other son, the House of Conde is now atan end. "

There was a moment's pause, and they finished the game. --President duRonceret now did something very similar. Perhaps he had heard theanecdote; perhaps, in political life, little minds and great minds areapt to hit upon the same expression. He looked at his watch, andinterrupted the game of boston with:

"At this moment M. Le Comte d'Esgrignon is arrested, and that housewhich has held its head so high is dishonored forever. "

"Then, have you got hold of the boy?" du Coudrai cried gleefully. 

Every one in the room, with the exception of the President, thedeputy, and du Croisier, looked startled. 

"He has just been arrested in Chesnel's house, where he was hiding, "said the deputy public prosecutor, with the air of a capable butunappreciated public servant, who ought by rights to be Minister ofPolice. M. Sauvager, the deputy, was a thin, tall young man offive-and-twenty, with a lengthy olive-hued countenance, blackfrizzled hair, and deep-set eyes; the wide, dark rings beneath themwere completed by the wrinkled purple eyelids above. With a nose likethe beak of some bird of prey, a pinched mouth, and cheeks worn leanwith study and hollowed by ambition, he was the very type of asecond-rate personage on the lookout for something to turn up, andready to do anything if so he might get on in the world, while keepingwithin the limitations of the possible and the forms of law. Hispompous expression was an admirable indication of the time-servingeloquence to be expected of him. Chesnel's successor had discoveredthe young Count's hiding place to him, and he took great credit tohimself for his penetration. 

The news seemed to come as a shock to the examining magistrate, M. Camusot, who had granted the warrant of arrest on Sauvager'sapplication, with no idea that it was to be executed so promptly. Camusot was short, fair, and fat already, though he was only thirtyyears old or thereabouts; he had the flabby, livid look peculiar toofficials who live shut up in their private study or in a court ofjustice; and his little, pale, yellow eyes were full of the suspicionwhich is often mistaken for shrewdness. 

Mme. Camusot looked at her spouse, as who should say, "Was I notright?"

"Then the case will come on, " was Camusot's comment. 

"Could you doubt it?" asked du Coudrai. "Now they have got the Count, all is over. "

"There is the jury, " said Camusot. "In this case M. Le Prefet is sureto take care that after the challenges from the prosecution and thedefence, the jury to a man will be for an acquittal. --My advice wouldbe to come to a compromise, " he added, turning to du Croisier. 

"Compromise!" echoed the President; "why, he is in the hands ofjustice. "

"Acquitted or convicted, the Comte d'Esgrignon will be dishonored allthe same, " put in Sauvager. 

"I am bringing an action, "[*] said du Croisier. "I shall have Dupinsenior. We shall see how the d'Esgrignon family will escape out of hisclutches. "

[*] A trial for an offence of this kind in France is an action brought by a private person (partie civile) to recover damages, and at the same time a criminal prosecution conducted on behalf of the Government. --Tr. 

"The d'Esgrignons will defend the case and have counsel from Paris;they will have Berryer, " said Mme. Camusot. "You will have a Rolandfor your Oliver. "

Du Croisier, M. Sauvager, and the President du Ronceret looked atCamusot, and one thought troubled their minds. The lady's tone, theway in which she flung her proverb in the faces of the eightconspirators against the house of d'Esgrignon, caused them inwardperturbation, which they dissembled as provincials can dissemble, bydint of lifelong practice in the shifts of a monastic existence. Little Mme. Camusot saw their change of countenance and subsequentcomposure when they scented opposition on the part of the examiningmagistrate. When her husband unveiled the thoughts in the back of hisown mind, she had tried to plumb the depths of hate in du Croisier'sadherents. She wanted to find out how du Croisier had gained over thisdeputy public prosecutor, who had acted so promptly and so directly inopposition to the views of the central power. 

"In any case, " continued she, "if celebrated counsel come down fromParis, there is a prospect of a very interesting session in the Courtof Assize; but the matter will be snuffed out between the Tribunal andthe Court of Appeal. It is only to be expected that the Governmentshould do all that can be done, below the surface, to save a young manwho comes of a great family, and has the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse fora friend. So I think that we shall have a 'sensation at Landernau. '"

"How you go on, madame!" the President said sternly. "Can you supposethat the Court of First Instance will be influenced by considerationswhich have nothing to do with justice?"

"The event proves the contrary, " she said meaningly, looking full atSauvager and the President, who glanced coldly at her. 

"Explain yourself, madame, " said Sauvager. "you speak as if we had notdone our duty. "

"Mme. Camusot meant nothing, " interposed her husband. 

"But has not M. Le President just said something prejudicing a casewhich depends on the examination of the prisoner?" said she. "And theevidence is still to be taken, and the Court had not given itsdecision?"

"We are not at the law-courts, " the deputy public prosecutor repliedtartly; "and besides, we know all that. "

"But the public prosecutor knows nothing at all about it yet, "returned she, with an ironical glance. "He will come back from theChamber of Deputies in all haste. You have cut out his work for him, and he, no doubt, will speak for himself. "

The deputy prosecutor knitted his thick bushy brows. Those interestedread tardy scruples in his countenance. A great silence followed, broken by no sound but the dealing of the cards. M. And Mme. Camusot, sensible of a decided chill in the atmosphere, took their departure toleave the conspirators to talk at their ease. 

"Camusot, " the lady began in the street, "you went too far. Why leadthose people to suspect that you will have no part in their schemes?They will play you some ugly trick. "

"What can they do? I am the only examining magistrate. "

"Cannot they slander you in whispers, and procure your dismissal?"

At that very moment Chesnel ran up against the couple. The old notaryrecognized the examining magistrate; and with the lucidity which comesof an experience of business, he saw that the fate of the d'Esgrignonslay in the hands of the young man before him. 

"Ah, sir!" he exclaimed, "we shall soon need you badly. Just a wordwith you. --Your pardon, madame, " he added, as he drew Camusot aside. 

Mme. Camusot, as a good conspirator, looked towards du Croisier'shouse, ready to break up the conversation if anybody appeared; but shethought, and thought rightly, that their enemies were busy discussingthis unexpected turn which she had given to the affair. Chesnelmeanwhile drew the magistrate into a dark corner under the wall, andlowered his voice for his companion's ear. 

"If you are for the house of d'Esgrignon, " he said, "Mme. La Duchessede Maufrigneuse, the Prince of Cadignan, the Ducs de Navarreins and deLenoncourt, the Keeper of the Seals, the Chancellor, the King himself, will interest themselves in you. I have just come from Paris; I knewall about this; I went post-haste to explain everything at Court. Weare counting on you, and I will keep your secret. If you are hostile, I shall go back to Paris to-morrow and lodge a complaint with theKeeper of the Seals that there is a suspicion of corruption. Severalfunctionaries were at du Croisier's house to-night, and no doubt, ateand drank there, contrary to law; and besides, they are friends ofhis. "

Chesnel would have brought the Almighty to intervene if he had had thepower. He did not wait for an answer; he left Camusot and fled like adeer towards du Croisier's house. Camusot, meanwhile, bidden to revealthe notary's confidences, was at once assailed with, "Was I not right, dear?"--a wifely formula used on all occasions, but rather morevehemently when the fair speaker is in the wrong. By the time theyreached home, Camusot had admitted the superiority of his partner inlife, and appreciated his good fortune in belonging to her; whichconfession, doubtless, was the prelude of a blissful night. 

Chesnel met his foes in a body as they left du Croisier's house, andbegan to fear that du Croisier had gone to bed. In his position he wascompelled to act quickly, and any delay was a misfortune. 

"In the King's name!" he cried, as the man-servant was closing thehall door. He had just brought the King on the scene for the benefitof an ambitious little official, and the word was still on his lips. He fretted and chafed while the door was unbarred; then, swift as athunderbolt, dashed into the ante-chamber, and spoke to the servant. 

"A hundred crowns to you, young man, if you can wake Mme. Du Croisierand send her to me this instant. Tell her anything you like. "

Chesnel grew cool and composed as he opened the door of the brightlylighted drawing-room, where du Croisier was striding up and down. Fora moment the two men scanned each other, with hatred and enmity, twenty years' deep, in their eyes. One of the two had his foot on theheart of the house of d'Esgrignon; the other, with a lion's strength, came forward to pluck it away. 

"Your humble servant, sir, " said Chesnel. "Have you made the charge?"

"Yes, sir. "

"When was it made?"

"Yesterday. "

"Have any steps been taken since the warrant of arrest was issued?"

"I believe so. "

"I have come to treat with you. "

"Justice must take its course, nothing can stop it, the arrest hasbeen made. "

"Never mind that, I am at your orders, at your feet. " The old manknelt before du Croisier, and stretched out his hands entreatingly. 

"What do you want? Our lands, our castle? Take all; withdraw thecharge; leave us nothing but life and honor. And over and besides allthis, I will be your servant; command and I will obey. "

Du Croisier sat down in an easy-chair and left the old man to kneel. 

"You are not vindictive, " pleaded Chesnel; "you are good-hearted, youdo not bear us such a grudge that you will not listen to terms. Beforedaylight the young man ought to be at liberty. "

"The whole town knows that he has been arrested, " returned duCroisier, enjoying his revenge. 

"It is a great misfortune, but as there will be neither proofs nortrial, we can easily manage that. "

Du Croisier reflected. He seemed to be struggling with self-interest;Chesnel thought that he had gained a hold on his enemy through thegreat motive of human action. At that supreme moment Mme. Du Croisierappeared. 

"Come here and help me to soften your dear husband, madame?" saidChesnel, still on his knees. Mme. Du Croisier made him rise with everysign of profound astonishment. Chesnel explained his errand; and whenshe knew it, the generous daughter of the intendants of the Ducs deAlencon turned to du Croisier with tears in her eyes. 

"Ah! monsieur, can you hesitate? The d'Esgrignons, the honor of theprovince!" she said. 

"There is more in it than that, " exclaimed du Croisier, rising tobegin his restless walk again. 

"More? What more?" asked Chesnel in amazement. 

"France is involved, M. Chesnel! It is a question of the country, ofthe people, of giving my lords your nobles a lesson, and teaching themthat there is such a thing as justice, and law, and a bourgeoisie--alesser nobility as good as they, and a match for them! There shall beno more trampling down half a score of wheat fields for a single hare;no bringing shame on families by seducing unprotected girls; theyshall not look down on others as good as they are, and mock at themfor ten whole years, without finding out at last that these thingsswell into avalanches, and those avalanches will fall and crush andbury my lords the nobles. You want to go back to the old order ofthings. You want to tear up the social compact, the Charter in whichour rights are set forth---"

"And so?"

"Is it not a sacred mission to open the people's eyes?" cried duCroisier. "Their eyes will be opened to the morality of your partywhen they see nobles going to be tried at the Assize Court like Pierreand Jacques. They will say, then, that small folk who keep theirself-respect are as good as great folk that bring shame on themselves. The Assize Court is a light for all the world. Here, I am the championof the people, the friend of law. You yourselves twice flung me on theside of the people--once when you refused an alliance, twice when youput me under the ban of your society. You are reaping as you havesown. "

If Chesnel was startled by this outburst, so no less was Mme. DuCroisier. To her this was a terrible revelation of her husband'scharacter, a new light not merely on the past but on the future aswell. Any capitulation on the part of the colossus was apparently outof the question; but Chesnel in no wise retreated before theimpossible. 

"What, monsieur?" said Mme. Du Croisier. "Would you not forgive? Thenyou are not a Christian. "

"I forgive as God forgives, madame, on certain conditions. "

"And what are they?" asked Chesnel, thinking that he saw a ray ofhope. 

"The elections are coming on; I want the votes at your disposal. "

"You shall have them. "

"I wish that we, my wife and I, should be received familiarly everyevening, with an appearance of friendliness at any rate, by M. LeMarquis d'Esgrignon and his circle, " continued du Croisier. 

"I do not know how we are going to compass it, but you shall bereceived. "

"I wish to have the family bound over by a surety of four hundredthousand francs, and by a written document stating the nature of thecompromise, so as to keep a loaded cannon pointed at its heart. "

"We agree, " said Chesnel, without admitting that the three hundredthousand francs was in his possession; "but the amount must bedeposited with a third party and returned to the family after yourelection and repayment. "

"No; after the marriage of my grand-niece, Mlle. Duval. She will verylikely have four million francs some day; the reversion of ourproperty (mine and my wife's) shall be settled upon her by hermarriage-contract, and you shall arrange a match between her and theyoung Count. "

"Never!"

"/Never/!" repeated du Croisier, quite intoxicated with triumph. "Good-night!"

"Idiot that I am, " thought Chesnel, "why did I shrink from a lie tosuch a man?"

Du Croisier took himself off; he was pleased with himself; he hadenjoyed Chesnel's humiliation; he had held the destinies of a proudhouse, the representatives of the aristocracy of the province, suspended in his hand; he had set the print of his heel on the veryheart of the d'Esgrignons; and, finally, he had broken off the wholenegotiation on the score of his wounded pride. He went up to his room, leaving his wife alone with Chesnel. In his intoxication, he saw hisvictory clear before him. He firmly believed that the three hundredthousand francs had been squandered; the d'Esgrignons must sell ormortgage all that they had to raise the money; the Assize Court wasinevitable to his mind. 

An affair of forgery can always be settled out of court in France ifthe missing amount is returned. The losers by the crime are usuallywell-to-do, and have no wish to blight an imprudent man's character. But du Croisier had no mind to slacken his hold until he knew what hewas about. He meditated until he fell asleep on the magnificent mannerin which his hopes would be fulfilled by the way of the Assize Courtor by marriage. The murmur of voices below, the lamentations ofChesnel and Mme. Du Croisier, sounded sweet in his ears. 

Mme. Du Croisier shared Chesnel's views of the d'Esgrignons. She was adeeply religious woman, a Royalist attached to the noblesse; theinterview had been in every way a cruel shock to her feelings. She, astaunch Royalist, had heard the roaring of that Liberalism, which, inher director's opinion, wished to crush the Church. The Left benchesfor her meant the popular upheaval and the scaffolds of 1793. 

"What would your uncle, that sainted man who hears us, say to this?"exclaimed Chesnel. Mme. Du Croisier made no reply, but the great tearsrolled down her checks. 

"You have already been the cause of one poor boy's death; his motherwill go mourning all her days, " continued Chesnel; he saw how hiswords told, but he would have struck harder and even broken thiswoman's heart to save Victurnien. "Do you want to kill Mlle. Armande, for she would not survive the dishonor of the house for a week? Do youwish to be the death of poor Chesnel, your old notary? For I shallkill the Count in prison before they shall bring the charge againsthim, and take my own life afterwards, before they shall try me formurder in an Assize Court. "

"That is enough! that is enough, my friend! I would do anything to puta stop to such an affair; but I never knew M. Du Croisier's realcharacter until a few minutes ago. To you I can make the admission:there is nothing to be done. "

"But what if there is?"

"I would give half the blood in my veins that it were so, " said she, finishing her sentence by a wistful shake of the head. 

As the First Consul, beaten on the field of Marengo till five o'clockin the evening, by six o'clock saw the tide of battle turned byDesaix's desperate attack and Kellermann's terrific charge, so Chesnelin the midst of defeat saw the beginnings of victory. No one but aChesnel, an old notary, an ex-steward of the manor, old MaitreSorbier's junior clerk, in the sudden flash of lucidity which comeswith despair, could rise thus, high as a Napoleon, nay, higher. Thiswas not Marengo, it was Waterloo, and the Prussians had come up;Chesnel saw this, and was determined to beat them off the field. 

"Madame, " he said, "remember that I have been your man of business fortwenty years; remember that if the d'Esgrignons mean the honor of theprovince, you represent the honor of the bourgeoisie; it rests withyou, and you alone, to save the ancient house. Now, answer me; are yougoing to allow dishonor to fall on the shade of your dead uncle, onthe d'Esgrignons, on poor Chesnel? Do you want to kill Mlle. Armandeweeping yonder? Or do you wish to expiate wrongs done to others by adeed which will rejoice your ancestors, the intendants of the dukes ofAlencon, and bring comfort to the soul of our dear Abbe? If he couldrise from his grave, he would command you to do this thing that I begof you upon my knees. "

"What is it?" asked Mme. Du Croisier. 

"Well. Here are the hundred thousand crowns, " said Chesnel, drawingthe bundles of notes from his pocket. "Take them, and there will be anend of it. "

"If that is all, " she began, "and if no harm can come of it to myhusband----"

"Nothing but good, " Chesnel replied. "You are saving him from eternalpunishment in hell, at the cost of a slight disappointment herebelow. "

"He will not be compromised, will he?" she asked, looking intoChesnel's face. 

Then Chesnel read the depths of the poor wife's mind. Mme. Du Croisierwas hesitating between her two creeds; between wifely obedience to herhusband as laid down by the Church, and obedience to the altar and thethrone. Her husband, in her eyes, was acting wrongly, but she darednot blame him; she would fain save the d'Esgrignons, but she was loyalto her husband's interests. 

"Not in the least, " Chesnel answered; "your old notary swears it bythe Holy Gospels----"

He had nothing left to lose for the d'Esgrignons but his soul; herisked it now by this horrible perjury, but Mme. Du Croisier must bedeceived, there was no other choice but death. Without losing amoment, he dictated a form of receipt by which Mme. Du Croisieracknowledged payment of a hundred thousand crowns five days before thefatal letter of exchange appeared; for he recollected that du Croisierwas away from home, superintending improvements on his wife's propertyat the time. 

"Now swear to me that you will declare before the examining magistratethat you received the money on that date, " he said, when Mme. DuCroisier had taken the notes and he held the receipt in his hand. 

"It will be a lie, will it not?"

"Venial sin, " said Chesnel. 

"I could not do it without consulting my director, M. L'AbbeCouturier. "

"Very well, " said Chesnel, "will you be guided entirely by his advicein this affair?"

"I promise that. "

"And you must not give the money to M. Du Croisier until you have beenbefore the magistrate. "

"No. Ah! God give me strength to appear in a Court of Justice andmaintain a lie before men!"

Chesnel kissed Mme. Du Croisier's hand, then stood upright, andmajestic as one of the prophets that Raphael painted in the Vatican. 

"You uncle's soul is thrilled with joy, " he said; "you have wiped outfor ever the wrong that you did by marrying an enemy of altar andthrone"--words that made a lively impression on Mme. Du Croisier'stimorous mind. 

Then Chesnel all at once bethought himself that he must make sure ofthe lady's director, the Abbe Couturier. He knew how obstinatelydevout souls can work for the triumph of their views when once theycome forward for their side, and wished to secure the concurrence ofthe Church as early as possible. So he went to the Hotel d'Esgrignon, roused up Mlle. Armande, gave her an account of that night's work, andsped her to fetch the Bishop himself into the forefront of the battle. 

"Ah, God in heaven! Thou must save the house of d'Esgrignon!" heexclaimed, as he went slowly home again. "The affair is developing nowinto a fight in a Court of Law. We are face to face with men that havepassions and interests of their own; we can get anything out of them. This du Croisier has taken advantage of the public prosecutor'sabsence; the public prosecutor is devoted to us, but since the openingof the Chambers he has gone to Paris. Now, what can they have done toget round his deputy? They have induced him to take up the chargewithout consulting his chief. This mystery must be looked into, andthe ground surveyed to-morrow; and then, perhaps, when I haveunraveled this web of theirs, I will go back to Paris to set greatpowers at work through Mme. De Maufrigneuse. "

So he reasoned, poor, aged, clear-sighted wrestler, before he lay downhalf dead with bearing the weight of so much emotion and fatigue. Andyet, before he fell asleep he ran a searching eye over the list ofmagistrates, taking all their secret ambitions into account, castingabout for ways of influencing them, calculating his chances in thecoming struggle. Chesnel's prolonged scrutiny of consciences, given ina condensed form, will perhaps serve as a picture of the judicialworld in a country town. 

Magistrates and officials generally are obliged to begin their careerin the provinces; judicial ambition there ferments. At the outsetevery man looks towards Paris; they all aspire to shine in the vasttheatre where great political causes come before the courts, and thehigher branches of the legal profession are closely connected with thepalpitating interests of society. But few are called to that paradiseof the man of law, and nine-tenths of the profession are bound sooneror later to regard themselves as shelved for good in the provinces. Wherefore, every Tribunal of First Instance and every Court-Royal issharply divided in two. The first section has given up hope, and iseither torpid or content; content with the excessive respect paid tooffice in a country town, or torpid with tranquillity. The secondsection is made up of the younger sort, in whom the desire of successis untempered as yet by disappointment, and of the really clever menurged on continually by ambition as with a goad; and these two arepossessed with a sort of fanatical belief in their order. 

At this time the younger men were full of Royalist zeal against theenemies of the Bourbons. The most insignificant deputy official wasdreaming of conducting a prosecution, and praying with all his mightfor one of those political cases which bring a man's zeal intoprominence, draw the attention of the higher powers, and meanadvancement for King's men. Was there a member of an official staff ofprosecuting counsel who could hear of a Bonapartist conspiracybreaking out somewhere else without a feeling of envy? Where was theman that did not burn to discover a Caron, or a Berton, or a revolt ofsome sort? With reasons of State, and the necessity of diffusing themonarchical spirit throughout France as their basis, and a fierceambition stirred up whenever party spirit ran high, these ardentpoliticians on their promotion were lucid, clear-sighted, andperspicacious. They kept up a vigorous detective system throughout thekingdom; they did the work of spies, and urged the nation along a pathof obedience, from which it had no business to swerve. 

Justice, thus informed with monarchical enthusiasm, atoned for theerrors of the ancient parliaments, and walked, perhaps, tooostentatiously hand in hand with religion. There was more zeal thandiscretion shown; but justice sinned not so much in the direction ofmachiavelism as by giving the candid expression to its views, whenthose views appeared to be opposed to the general interests of acountry which must be put safely out of reach of revolutions. Buttaken as a whole, there was still too much of the bourgeois element inthe administration; it was too readily moved by petty liberalagitation; and as a result, it was inevitable that it should inclinesooner or later to the Constitutional party, and join ranks with thebourgeoisie in the day of battle. In the great body of legalfunctionaries, as in other departments of the administration, therewas not wanting a certain hypocrisy, or rather that spirit ofimitation which always leads France to model herself on the Court, and, quite unintentionally, to deceive the powers that be. 

Officials of both complexions were to be found in the court in whichyoung d'Esgrignon's fate depended. M. Le President du Ronceret and anelderly judge, Blondet by name, represented the section offunctionaries shelved for good, and resigned to stay where they were;while the young and ambitious party comprised the examining magistrateM. Camusot, and his deputy M. Michu, appointed through the interestsof the Cinq-Cygnes, and certain of promotion to the Court of Appeal ofParis at the first opportunity. 

President du Ronceret held a permanent post; it was impossible to turnhim out. The aristocratic party declined to give him what heconsidered to be his due, socially speaking; so he declared for thebourgeoisie, glossed over his disappointment with the name ofindependence, and failed to realize that his opinions condemned him toremain a president of a court of the first instance for the rest ofhis life. Once started in this track the sequence of events led duRonceret to place his hopes of advancement on the triumph of duCroisier and the Left. He was in no better odor at the Prefecture thanat the Court-Royal. He was compelled to keep on good terms with theauthorities; the Liberals distrusted him, consequently he belonged toneither party. He was obliged to resign his chances of election to duCroisier, he exercised no influence, and played a secondary part. Thefalse position reacted on his character; he was soured anddiscontented; he was tired of political ambiguity, and privately hadmade up his mind to come forward openly as leader of the Liberalparty, and so to strike ahead of du Croisier. His behavior in thed'Esgrignon affair was the first step in this direction. To beginwith, he was an admirable representative of that section of the middleclasses which allows its petty passions to obscure the wider interestsof the country; a class of crotchety politicians, upholding thegovernment one day and opposing it the next, compromising every causeand helping none; helpless after they have done the mischief till theyset about brewing more; unwilling to face their own incompetence, thwarting authority while professing to serve it. With a compound ofarrogance and humility they demand of the people more submission thankings expect, and fret their souls because those above them are notbrought down to their level, as if greatness could be little, as ifpower existed without force. 

President du Ronceret was a tall, spare man with a receding foreheadand scanty, auburn hair. He was wall-eyed, his complexion wasblotched, his lips thin and hard, his scarcely audible voice came outlike the husky wheezings of asthma. He had for a wife a great, solemn, clumsy creature, tricked out in the most ridiculous fashion, andoutrageously overdressed. Mme. La Presidente gave herself the airs ofa queen; she wore vivid colors, and always appeared at balls adornedwith the turban, dear to the British female, and lovingly cultivatedin out-of-the-way districts in France. Each of the pair had an incomeof four or five thousand francs, which with the President's salary, reached a total of some twelve thousand. In spite of a decidedtendency to parsimony, vanity required that they should receive oneevening in the week. Du Croisier might import modern luxury into thetown, M. And Mme. De Ronceret were faithful to the old traditions. They had always lived in the old-fashioned house belonging to Mme. DuRonceret, and had made no changes in it since their marriage. Thehouse stood between a garden and a courtyard. The gray old gable end, with one window in each story, gave upon the road. High walls enclosedthe garden and the yard, but the space taken up beneath them in thegarden by a walk shaded with chestnut trees was filled in the yard bya row of outbuildings. An old rust-devoured iron gate in the gardenwall balanced the yard gateway, a huge, double-leaved carriageentrance with a buttress on either side, and a mighty shell on thetop. The same shell was repeated over the house-door. 

The whole place was gloomy, close, and airless. The row of iron-gatedopenings in the opposite wall, as you entered, reminded you of prisonwindows. Every passer-by could look in through the railings to see howthe garden grew; the flowers in the little square borders never seemedto thrive there. 

The drawing-room on the ground floor was lighted by a single window onthe side of the street, and a French window above a flight of steps, which gave upon the garden. The dining-room on the other side of thegreat ante-chamber, with its windows also looking out into the garden, was exactly the same size as the drawing-room, and all threeapartments were in harmony with the general air of gloom. It weariedyour eyes to look at the ceilings all divided up by huge paintedcrossbeams and adorned with a feeble lozenge pattern or a rosette inthe middle. The paint was old, startling in tint, and begrimed withsmoke. The sun had faded the heavy silk curtains in the drawing-room;the old-fashioned Beauvais tapestry which covered the white-paintedfurniture had lost all its color with wear. A Louis Quinze clock onthe chimney-piece stood between two extravagant, branched sconcesfilled with yellow wax candles, which the Presidente only lighted onoccasions when the old-fashioned rock-crystal chandelier emerged fromits green wrapper. Three card-tables, covered with threadbare baize, and a backgammon box, sufficed for the recreations of the company; andMme. Du Ronceret treated them to such refreshments as cider, chestnuts, pastry puffs, glasses of eau sucree, and home-made orgeat. For some time past she had made a practice of giving a party once afortnight, when tea and some pitiable attempts at pastry appeared tograce the occasion. 

Once a quarter the du Roncerets gave a grand three-course dinner, which made a great sensation in the town, a dinner served up inexecrable ware, but prepared with the science for which the provincialcook is remarkable. It was a Gargantuan repast, which lasted for sixwhole hours, and by abundance the President tried to vie with duCroisier's elegance. 

And so du Ronceret's life and its accessories were just what mighthave been expected from his character and his false position. He feltdissatisfied at home without precisely knowing what was the matter;but he dared not go to any expense to change existing conditions, andwas only too glad to put by seven or eight thousand francs every year, so as to leave his son Fabien a handsome private fortune. Fabien duRonceret had no mind for the magistracy, the bar, or the civilservice, and his pronounced turn for doing nothing drove his parent todespair. 

On this head there was rivalry between the President and theVice-President, old M. Blondet. M. Blondet, for a long time past, hadbeen sedulously cultivating an acquaintance between his son and theBlandureau family. The Blandureaus were well-to-do linenmanufacturers, with an only daughter, and it was on this daughter thatthe President had fixed his choice of a wife for Fabien. Now, JosephBlondet's marriage with Mlle. Blandureau depended on his nomination tothe post which his father, old Blondet, hoped to obtain for him whenhe himself should retire. But President du Ronceret, in underhandways, was thwarting the old man's plans, and working indirectly uponthe Blandureaus. Indeed, if it had not been for this affair of youngd'Esgrignon's, the astute President might have cut them out, fatherand son, for their rivals were very much richer. 

M. Blondet, the victim of the machiavelian President's intrigues, wasone of the curious figures which lie buried away in the provinces likeold coins in a crypt. He was at that time a man of sixty-seven orthereabouts, but he carried his years well; he was very tall, and inbuild reminded you of the canons of the good old times. The smallpoxhad riddled his face with numberless dints, and spoilt the shape ofhis nose by imparting to it a gimlet-like twist; it was a countenanceby no means lacking in character, very evenly tinted with a diffusedred, lighted up by a pair of bright little eyes, with a sardonic lookin them, while a certain sarcastic twitch of the purpled lips gaveexpression to that feature. 

Before the Revolution broke out, Blondet senior had been a barrister;afterwards he became the public accuser, and one of the mildest ofthose formidable functionaries. Goodman Blondet, as they used to callhim, deadened the force of the new doctrines by acquiescing in themall, and putting none of them in practice. He had been obliged to sendone or two nobles to prison; but his further proceedings were markedwith such deliberation, that he brought them through to the 9thThermidor with a dexterity which won respect for him on all sides. Asa matter of fact, Goodman Blondet ought to have been President of theTribunal, but when the courts of law were reorganized he had been setaside; Napoleon's aversion for Republicans was apt to reappear in thesmallest appointments under his government. The qualification ofex-public accuser, written in the margin of the list against Blondet'sname, set the Emperor inquiring of Cambaceres whether there might notbe some scion of an ancient parliamentary stock to appoint instead. The consequence was that du Ronceret, whose father had been acouncillor of parliament, was nominated to the presidency; but, theEmperor's repugnance notwithstanding, Cambaceres allowed Blondet toremain on the bench, saying that the old barrister was one of the bestjurisconsults in France. 

Blondet's talents, his knowledge of the old law of the land andsubsequent legislation, should by rights have brought him far in hisprofession; but he had this much in common with some few greatspirits: he entertained a prodigious contempt for his own specialknowledge, and reserved all his pretentions, leisure, and capacity fora second pursuit unconnected with the law. To this pursuit he gave hisalmost exclusive attention. The good man was passionately fond ofgardening. He was in correspondence with some of the most celebratedamateurs; it was his ambition to create new species; he took aninterest in botanical discoveries, and lived, in short, in the worldof flowers. Like all florists, he had a predilection for oneparticular plant; the pelargonium was his especial favorite. Thecourt, the cases that came before it, and his outward life were asnothing to him compared with the inward life of fancies and abundantemotions which the old man led. He fell more and more in love with hisflower-seraglio; and the pains which he bestowed on his garden, thesweet round of the labors of the months, held Goodman Blondet fast inhis greenhouse. But for that hobby he would have been a deputy underthe Empire, and shone conspicuous beyond a doubt in the CorpsLegislatif. 

His marriage was the second cause of his obscurity. As a man of forty, he was rash enough to marry a girl of eighteen, by whom he had a sonnamed Joseph in the first year of their marriage. Three yearsafterwards Mme. Blondet, then the prettiest woman in the town, inspired in the prefect of the department a passion which ended onlywith her death. The prefect was the father of her second son Emile;the whole town knew this, old Blondet himself knew it. The wife whomight have roused her husband's ambition, who might have won him awayfrom his flowers, positively encouraged the judge in his botanicaltastes. She no more cared to leave the place than the prefect cared toleave his prefecture so long as his mistress lived. 

Blondet felt himself unequal at his age to a contest with a youngwife. He sought consolation in his greenhouse, and engaged a verypretty servant-maid to assist him to tend his ever-changing bevy ofbeauties. So while the judge potted, pricked out, watered, layered, slipped, blended, and induced his flowers to break, Mme. Blondet spenthis substance on the dress and finery in which she shone at theprefecture. One interest alone had power to draw her away from thetender care of a romantic affection which the town came to admire inthe end; and this interest was Emile's education. The child of lovewas a bright and pretty boy, while Joseph was no less heavy andplain-featured. The old judge, blinded by paternal affection lovedJoseph as his wife loved Emile. 

For a dozen years M. Blondet bore his lot with perfect resignation. Heshut his eyes to his wife's intrigue with a dignified, well-bredcomposure, quite in the style of an eighteenth century grand seigneur;but, like all men with a taste for a quiet life, he could cherish aprofound dislike, and he hated his younger son. When his wife died, therefore, in 1818, he turned the intruder out of the house, andpacked him off to Paris to study law on an allowance of twelve hundredfrancs for all resource, nor could any cry of distress extract anotherpenny from his purse. Emile Blondet would have gone under if it hadnot been for his real father. 

M. Blondet's house was one of the prettiest in the town. It stoodalmost opposite the prefecture, with a neat little court in front. Arow of old-fashioned iron railings between two brick-work piersenclosed it from the street; and a low wall, also of brick, with asecond row of railings along the top, connected the piers with theneighboring house. The little court, a space about ten fathoms inwidth by twenty in length, was cut in two by a brick pathway which ranfrom the gate to the house door between a border on either side. Thoseborders were always renewed; at every season of the year theyexhibited a successful show of blossom, to the admiration of thepublic. All along the back of the gardenbeds a quantity of climbingplants grew up and covered the walls of the neighboring houses with amagnificent mantle; the brick-work piers were hidden in clusters ofhoneysuckle; and, to crown all, in a couple of terra-cotta vases atthe summit, a pair of acclimatized cactuses displayed to theastonished eyes of the ignorant those thick leaves bristling withspiny defences which seem to be due to some plant disease. 

It was a plain-looking house, built of brick, with brick-work archesabove the windows, and bright green Venetian shutters to make it gay. Through the glass door you could look straight across the house to theopposite glass door, at the end of a long passage, and down thecentral alley in the garden beyond; while through the windows of thedining-room and drawing-room, which extended, like the passage fromback to front of the house, you could often catch further glimpses ofthe flower-beds in a garden of about two acres in extent. Seen fromthe road, the brick-work harmonized with the fresh flowers and shrubs, for two centuries had overlaid it with mosses and green and russettints. No one could pass through the town without falling in love witha house with such charming surroundings, so covered with flowers andmosses to the roof-ridge, where two pigeons of glazed crockery warewere perched by way of ornament. 

M. Blondet possessed an income of about four thousand livres derivedfrom land, besides the old house in the town. He meant to avenge hiswrongs legitimately enough. He would leave his house, his lands, hisseat on the bench to his son Joseph, and the whole town knew what hemeant to do. He had made a will in that son's favor; he had gone asfar as the Code will permit a man to go in the way of disinheritingone child to benefit another; and what was more, he had been puttingby money for the past fifteen years to enable his lout of a son to buyback from Emile that portion of his father's estate which could notlegally be taken away from him. 

Emile Blondet thus turned adrift had contrived to gain distinction inParis, but so far it was rather a name than a practical result. Emile's indolence, recklessness, and happy-go-lucky ways drove hisreal father to despair; and when that father died, a half-ruined man, turned out of office by one of the political reactions so frequentunder the Restoration, it was with a mind uneasy as to the future of aman endowed with the most brilliant qualities. 

Emile Blondet found support in a friendship with a Mlle. DeTroisville, whom he had known before her marriage with the Comte deMontcornet. His mother was living when the Troisvilles came back afterthe emigration; she was related to the family, distantly it is true, but the connection was close enough to allow her to introduce Emile tothe house. She, poor woman, foresaw the future. She knew that when shedied her son would lose both mother and father, a thought which madedeath doubly bitter, so she tried to interest others in him. Sheencouraged the liking that sprang up between Emile and the eldestdaughter of the house of Troisville; but while the liking wasexceedingly strong on the young lady's part, a marriage was out of thequestion. It was a romance on the pattern of Paul et Virginie. Mme. Blondet did what she could to teach her son to look to theTroisvilles, to found a lasting attachment on a children's game of"make-believe" love, which was bound to end as boy-and-girl romancesusually do. When Mlle. De Troisville's marriage with GeneralMontcornet was announced, Mme. Blondet, a dying woman, went to thebride and solemnly implored her never to abandon Emile, and to use herinfluence for him in society in Paris, whither the General's fortunesummoned her to shine. 

Luckily for Emile, he was able to make his own way. He made hisappearance, at the age of twenty, as one of the masters of modernliterature; and met with no less success in the society into which hewas launched by the father who at first could afford to bear theexpense of the young man's extravagance. Perhaps Emile's precociouscelebrity and the good figure that he made strengthened the bonds ofhis friendship with the Countess. Perhaps Mme. De Montcornet, with theRussian blood in her veins (her mother was the daughter of thePrincess Scherbelloff), might have cast off the friend of herchildhood if he had been a poor man struggling with all his mightamong the difficulties which beset a man of letters in Paris; but bythe time that the real strain of Emile's adventurous life began, theirattachment was unalterable on either side. He was looked upon as oneof the leading lights of journalism when young d'Esgrignon met him athis first supper party in Paris; his acknowledged position in theworld of letters was very high, and he towered above his reputation. Goodman Blondet had not the faintest conception of the power which theConstitutional Government had given to the press; nobody ventured totalk in his presence of the son of whom he refused to hear. And so itcame to pass that he knew nothing of Emile whom he had cursed andEmile's greatness. 

Old Blondet's integrity was as deeply rooted in him as his passion forflowers; he knew nothing but law and botany. He would have interviewswith litigants, listen to them, chat with them, and show them hisflowers; he would accept rare seeds from them; but once on the bench, no judge on earth was more impartial. Indeed, his manner of proceedingwas so well known, that litigants never went near him except to handover some document which might enlighten him in the performance of hisduty, and nobody tried to throw dust in his eyes. With his learning, his lights, and his way of holding his real talents cheap, he was soindispensable to President du Ronceret, that, matrimonial schemesapart, that functionary would have done all that he could, in anunderhand way, to prevent the vice-president from retiring in favor ofhis son. If the learned old man left the bench, the President would beutterly unable to do without him. 

Goodman Blondet did not know that it was in Emile's power to fulfilall his wishes in a few hours. The simplicity of his life was worthyof one of Plutarch's men. In the evening he looked over his cases;next morning he worked among his flowers; and all day long he gavedecisions on the bench. The pretty maid-servant, now of ripe age, andwrinkled like an Easter pippin, looked after the house, and they livedaccording to the established customs of the strictest parsimony. Mlle. Cadot always carried the keys of her cupboards and fruit-loft aboutwith her. She was indefatigable. She went to market herself, shecooked and dusted and swept, and never missed mass of a morning. Togive some idea of the domestic life of the household, it will beenough to remark that the father and son never ate fruit till it wasbeginning to spoil, because Mlle. Cadot always brought out anythingthat would not keep. No one in the house ever tasted the luxury of newbread, and all the fast days in the calendar were punctually observed. The gardener was put on rations like a soldier; the elderly Validehalways kept an eye upon him. And she, for her part, was sodeferentially treated, that she took her meals with the family, and inconsequence was continually trotting to and fro between the kitchenand the parlor at breakfast and dinner time. 

Mlle. Blandureau's parents had consented to her marriage with JosephBlondet upon one condition--the penniless and briefless barrister mustbe an assistant judge. So, with the desire of fitting his son to fillthe position, old M. Blondet racked his brains to hammer the law intohis son's head by dint of lessons, so as to make a cut-and-driedlawyer of him. As for Blondet junior, he spent almost every evening atthe Blandureaus' house, to which also young Fabien du Ronceret hadbeen admitted since his return, without raising the slightestsuspicion in the minds of father or son. 

Everything in this life of theirs was measured with an accuracy worthyof Gerard Dow's Money Changer; not a grain of salt too much, not asingle profit foregone; but the economical principles by which it wasregulated were relaxed in favor of the greenhouse and garden. "Thegarden was the master's craze, " Mlle. Cadot used to say. The master'sblind fondness for Joseph was not a craze in her eyes; she shared thefather's predilection; she pampered Joseph; she darned his stockings;and would have been better pleased if the money spent on the gardenhad been put by for Joseph's benefit. 

That garden was kept in marvelous order by a single man; the paths, covered with river-sand, continually turned over with the rake, meandered among the borders full of the rarest flowers. Here were allkinds of color and scent, here were lizards on the walls, legions oflittle flower-pots standing out in the sun, regiments of forks andhoes, and a host of innocent things, a combination of pleasant resultsto justify the gardener's charming hobby. 

At the end of the greenhouse the judge had set up a grandstand, anamphitheatre of benches to hold some five or six thousand pelargoniumsin pots--a splendid and famous show. People came to see his geraniumsin flower, not only from the neighborhood, but even from thedepartments round about. The Empress Marie Louise, passing through thetown, had honored the curiously kept greenhouse with a visit; so muchwas she impressed with the sight, that she spoke of it to Napoleon, and the old judge received the Cross of the Legion of Honor. But asthe learned gardener never mingled in society at all, and went nowhereexcept to the Blandureaus, he had no suspicion of the President'sunderhand manoeuvres; and others who could see the President'sintentions were far too much afraid of him to interfere or to warn theinoffensive Blondets. 

As for Michu, that young man with his powerful connections gave muchmore thought to making himself agreeable to the women in the uppersocial circles to which he was introduced by the Cinq-Cygnes, than tothe extremely simple business of a provincial Tribunal. With hisindependent means (he had an income of twelve thousand livres), he wascourted by mothers of daughters, and led a frivolous life. He did justenough at the Tribunal to satisfy his conscience, much as a schoolboydoes his exercises, saying ditto on all occasions, with a "Yes, dearPresident. " But underneath the appearance of indifference lurked theunusual powers of the Paris law student who had distinguished himselfas one of the staff of prosecuting counsel before he came to theprovinces. He was accustomed to taking broad views of things; he coulddo rapidly what the President and Blondet could only do after muchthinking, and very often solved knotty points for them. In delicateconjunctures the President and Vice-President took counsel with theirjunior, confided thorny questions to him, and never failed to wonderat the readiness with which he brought back a task in which oldBlondet found nothing to criticise. Michu was sure of the influence ofthe most crabbed aristocrats, and he was young and rich; he lived, therefore, above the level of departmental intrigues and pettinesses. He was an indispensable man at picnics, he frisked with young ladiesand paid court to their mothers, he danced at balls, he gambled like acapitalist. In short, he played his part of young lawyer of fashion toadmiration; without, at the same time, compromising his dignity, whichhe knew how to assert at the right moment like a man of spirit. He wongolden opinions by the manner in which he threw himself intoprovincial ways, without criticising them; and for these reasons, every one endeavored to make his time of exile endurable. 

The public prosecutor was a lawyer of the highest ability; he hadtaken the plunge into political life, and was one of the mostdistinguished speakers on the ministerialist benches. The Presidentstood in awe of him; if he had not been away in Paris at the time, nosteps would have been taken against Victurnien; his dexterity, hisexperience of business, would have prevented the whole affair. At thatmoment, however, he was in the Chamber of Deputies, and the Presidentand du Croisier had taken advantage of his absence to weave theirplot, calculating, with a certain ingenuity, that if once the lawstepped in, and the matter was noised abroad, things would have gonetoo far to be remedied. 

As a matter of fact, no staff of prosecuting counsel in any Tribunal, at that particular time, would have taken up a charge of forgeryagainst the eldest son of one of the noblest houses in France withoutgoing into the case at great length, and a special reference, in allprobability, to the Attorney-General. In such a case as this, theauthorities and the Government would have tried endless ways ofcompromising and hushing up an affair which might send an imprudentyoung man to the hulks. They would very likely have done the same fora Liberal family in a prominent position, so long as the Liberals werenot too openly hostile to the throne and the altar. So du Croisier'scharge and the young Count's arrest had not been very easy to manage. The President and du Croisier had compassed their ends in thefollowing manner. 

M. Sauvager, a young Royalist barrister, had reached the position ofdeputy public prosecutor by dint of subservience to the Ministry. Inthe absence of his chief he was head of the staff of counsel forprosecution, and, consequently, it fell to him to take up the chargemade by du Croisier. Sauvager was a self-made man; he had nothing buthis stipend; and for that reason the authorities reckoned upon someone who had everything to gain by devotion. The President nowexploited the position. No sooner was the document with the allegedforgery in du Croisier's hands, than Mme. La Presidente du Ronceret, prompted by her spouse, had a long conversation with M. Sauvager. Inthe course of it she pointed out the uncertainties of a career in themagistrature debout compared with the magistrature assise, and theadvantages of the bench over the bar; she showed how a freak on thepart of some official, or a single false step, might ruin a man'scareer. 

"If you are conscientious and give your conclusions against the powersthat be, you are lost, " continued she. "Now, at this moment, you mightturn your position to account to make a fine match that would put youabove unlucky chances for the rest of your life; you may marry a wifewith fortune sufficient to land you on the bench, in the magistratureassise. There is a fine chance for you. M. Du Croisier will never haveany children; everybody knows why. His money, and his wife's as well, will go to his niece, Mlle. Duval. M. Duval is an ironmaster, hispurse is tolerably filled, to begin with, and his father is stillalive, and has a little property besides. The father and son have amillion of francs between them; they will double it with du Croisier'shelp, for du Croisier has business connections among great capitalistsand manufacturers in Paris. M. And Mme. Duval the younger would becertain to give their daughter to a suitor brought forward by duCroisier, for he is sure to leave two fortunes to his niece; and, inall probability, he will settle the reversion of his wife's propertyupon Mlle. Duval in the marriage contract, for Mme. Du Croisier has nokin. You know how du Croisier hates the d'Esgrignons. Do him aservice, be his man, take up this charge of forgery which he is goingto make against young d'Esgrignon, and follow up the proceedings atonce without consulting the public prosecutor at Paris. And, then, pray Heaven that the Ministry dismisses you for doing your officeimpartially, in spite of the powers that be; for if they do, yourfortune is made! You will have a charming wife and thirty thousandfrancs a year with her, to say nothing of four millions expectationsin ten years' time. "

In two evenings Sauvager was talked over. Both he and the Presidentkept the affair a secret from old Blondet, from Michu, and from thesecond member of the staff of prosecuting counsel. Feeling sure ofBlondet's impartiality on a question of fact, the President madecertain of a majority without counting Camusot. And now Camusot'sunexpected defection had thrown everything out. What the Presidentwanted was a committal for trial before the public prosecutor gotwarning. How if Camusot or the second counsel for the prosecutionshould send word to Paris?

And here some portion of Camusot's private history may perhaps explainhow it came to pass that Chesnel took it for granted that theexamining magistrate would be on the d'Esgrignons' side, and how hehad the boldness to tamper in the open street with that representativeof justice. 

Camusot's father, a well-known silk mercer in the Rue des Bourdonnais, was ambitious for the only son of his first marriage, and brought himup to the law. When Camusot junior took a wife, he gained with her theinfluence of an usher of the Royal cabinet, backstairs influence, itis true, but still sufficient, since it had brought him his firstappointment as justice of the peace, and the second as examiningmagistrate. At the time of his marriage, his father only settled anincome of six thousand francs upon him (the amount of his mother'sfortune, which he could legally claim), and as Mlle. Thirion broughthim no more than twenty thousand francs as her portion, the youngcouple knew the hardships of hidden poverty. The salary of aprovincial justice of the peace does not exceed fifteen hundredfrancs, while an examining magistrate's stipend is augmented bysomething like a thousand francs, because his position entailsexpenses and extra work. The post, therefore, is much coveted, thoughit is not permanent, and the work is heavy, and that was why Mme. Camusot had just scolded her husband for allowing the President toread his thoughts. 

Marie Cecile Amelie Thirion, after three years of marriage, perceivedthe blessing of Heaven upon it in the regularity of two auspiciousevents--the births of a girl and a boy; but she prayed to be lessblessed in the future. A few more of such blessings would turnstraitened means into distress. M. Camusot's father's money was notlikely to come to them for a long time; and, rich as he was, he wouldscarcely leave more than eight or ten thousand francs a year to eachof his children, four in number, for he had been married twice. Andbesides, by the time that all "expectations, " as matchmakers callthem, were realized, would not the magistrate have children of his ownto settle in life? Any one can imagine the situation for a littlewoman with plenty of sense and determination, and Mme. Camusot wassuch a woman. She did not refrain from meddling in matters judicial. She had far too strong a sense of the gravity of a false step in herhusband's career. 

She was the only child of an old servant of Louis XVIII. , a valet whohad followed his master in his wanderings in Italy, Courland, andEngland, till after the Restoration the King awarded him with the oneplace that he could fill at Court, and made him usher by rotation tothe royal cabinet. So in Amelie's home there had been, as it were, asort of reflection of the Court. Thirion used to tell her about thelords, and ministers, and great men whom he announced and introducedand saw passing to and fro. The girl, brought up at the gates of theTuileries, had caught some tincture of the maxims practised there, andadopted the dogma of passive obedience to authority. She had sagelyjudged that her husband, by ranging himself on the side of thed'Esgrignons, would find favor with Mme. La Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, and with two powerful families on whose influence with the King theSieur Thirion could depend at an opportune moment. Camusot might getan appointment at the first opportunity within the jurisdiction ofParis, and afterwards at Paris itself. That promotion, dreamed of andlonged for at every moment, was certain to have a salary of sixthousand francs attached to it, as well as the alleviation of livingin her own father's house, or under the Camusots' roof, and all theadvantages of a father's fortune on either side. If the adage, "Out ofsight is out of mind, " holds good of most women, it is particularlytrue where family feeling or royal or ministerial patronage isconcerned. The personal attendants of kings prosper at all times; youtake an interest in a man, be it only a man in livery, if you see himevery day. 

Mme. Camusot, regarding herself as a bird of passage, had taken alittle house in the Rue du Cygne. Furnished lodgings there were none;the town was not enough of a thoroughfare, and the Camusots could notafford to live at an inn like M. Michu. So the fair Parisian had nochoice for it but to take such furniture as she could find; and as shepaid a very moderate rent, the house was remarkably ugly, albeit acertain quaintness of detail was not wanting. It was built against aneighboring house in such a fashion that the side with only one windowin each story, gave upon the street, and the front looked out upon ayard where rose-bushes and buckhorn were growing along the wall oneither side. On the farther side, opposite the house, stood a shed, aroof over two brick arches. A little wicket-gate gave entrance intothe gloomy place (made gloomier still by the great walnut-treewhich grew in the yard), but a double flight of steps, with anelaborately-wrought but rust-eaten handrail, led to the house door. Inside the house there were two rooms on each floor. The dining-roomoccupied that part of the ground floor nearest the street, and thekitchen lay on the other side of a narrow passage almost wholly takenup by the wooden staircase. Of the two first-floor rooms, one did dutyas the magistrate's study, the other as a bedroom, while the nurseryand the servants' bedroom stood above in the attics. There were noceilings in the house; the cross-beams were simply white-washed and thespaces plastered over. Both rooms on the first floor and the dining-roombelow were wainscoted and adorned with the labyrinthine designs whichtaxed the patience of the eighteenth century joiner; but the carvinghad been painted a dingy gray most depressing to behold. 

The magistrate's study looked as though it belonged to a provinciallawyer; it contained a big bureau, a mahogany armchair, a lawstudent's books, and shabby belongings transported from Paris. Mme. Camusot's room was more of a native product; it boasted ablue-and-white scheme of decoration, a carpet, and that anomalous kindof furniture which appears to be in the fashion, while it is simply somestyle that has failed in Paris. As to the dining-room, it was nothingbut an ordinary provincial dining-room, bare and chilly, with a damp, faded paper on the walls. 

In this shabby room, with nothing to see but the walnut-tree, the darkleaves growing against the walls, and the almost deserted road beyondthem, a somewhat lively and frivolous woman, accustomed to theamusements and stir of Paris, used to sit all day long, day after day, and for the most part of the time alone, though she received tiresomeand inane visits which led her to think her loneliness preferable toempty tittle-tattle. If she permitted herself the slightest gleam ofintelligence, it gave rise to interminable comment and embittered hercondition. She occupied herself a great deal with her children, not somuch from taste as for the sake of an interest in her almost solitarylife, and exercised her mind on the only subjects which she could find--to wit, the intrigues which went on around her, the ways ofprovincials, and the ambitions shut in by their narrow horizons. Soshe very soon fathomed mysteries of which her husband had no idea. Asshe sat at her window with a piece of intermittent embroidery work inher fingers, she did not see her woodshed full of faggots nor theservant busy at the wash tub; she was looking out upon Paris, Pariswhere everything is pleasure, everything is full of life. She dreamedof Paris gaieties, and shed tears because she must abide in this dullprison of a country town. She was disconsolate because she lived in apeaceful district, where no conspiracy, no great affair would everoccur. She saw herself doomed to sit under the shadow of thewalnut-tree for some time to come. 

Mme. Camusot was a little, plump, fresh, fair-haired woman, with avery prominent forehead, a mouth which receded, and a turned-up chin, a type of countenance which is passable in youth, but looks old beforethe time. Her bright, quick eyes expressed her innocent desire to geton in the world, and the envy born of her present inferior position, with rather too much candor; but still they lighted up her commonplaceface and set it off with a certain energy of feeling, which successwas certain to extinguish in later life. At that time she used to givea good deal of time and thought to her dresses, inventing trimmingsand embroidering them; she planned out her costumes with the maid whomshe had brought with her from Paris, and so maintained the reputationof Parisiennes in the provinces. Her caustic tongue was dreaded; shewas not loved. In that keen, investigating spirit peculiar tounoccupied women who are driven to find some occupation for emptydays, she had pondered the President's private opinions, until atlength she discovered what he meant to do, and for some time past shehad advised Camusot to declare war. The young Count's affair was anexcellent opportunity. Was it not obviously Camusot's part to make astepping-stone of this criminal case by favoring the d'Esgrignons, afamily with power of a very different kind from the power of the duCroisier party?

"Sauvager will never marry Mlle. Duval. They are dangling her beforehim, but he will be the dupe of those Machiavels in the Val-Noble towhom he is going to sacrifice his position. Camusot, this affair, sounfortunate as it is for the d'Esgrignons, so insidiously brought onby the President for du Croisier's benefit, will turn out well fornobody but /you/, " she had said, as they went in. 

The shrewd Parisienne had likewise guessed the President's underhandmanoeuvres with the Blandureaus, and his object in baffling oldBlondet's efforts, but she saw nothing to be gained by opening theeyes of father or son to the perils of the situation; she was enjoyingthe beginning of the comedy; she knew about the proposals made byChesnel's successor on behalf of Fabien du Ronceret, but she did notsuspect how important that secret might be to her. If she or herhusband were threatened by the President, Mme. Camusot could threatentoo, in her turn, to call the amateur gardener's attention to a schemefor carrying off the flower which he meant to transplant into hishouse. 

Chesnel had not penetrated, like Mme. Camusot, into the means by whichSauvager had been won over; but by dint of looking into the variouslives and interests of the men grouped about the Lilies of theTribunal, he knew that he could count upon the public prosecutor, uponCamusot, and M. Michu. Two judges for the d'Esgrignons would paralyzethe rest. And, finally, Chesnel knew old Blondet well enough to feelsure that if he ever swerved from impartiality, it would be for thesake of the work of his whole lifetime, --to secure his son'sappointment. So Chesnel slept, full of confidence, on the resolve togo to M. Blondet and offer to realize his so long cherished hopes, while he opened his eyes to President du Ronceret's treachery. Blondetwon over, he would take a peremptory tone with the examiningmagistrate, to whom he hoped to prove that if Victurnien was notblameless, he had been merely imprudent; the whole thing should beshown in the light of a boy's thoughtless escapade. 

But Chesnel slept neither soundly nor for long. Before dawn he wasawakened by his housekeeper. The most bewitching person in thishistory, the most adorable youth on the face of the globe, Mme. LaDuchesse de Maufrigneuse herself, in man's attire, had driven alonefrom Paris in a caleche, and was waiting to see him. 

"I have come to save him or to die with him, " said she, addressing thenotary, who thought that he was dreaming. "I have brought a hundredthousand francs, given me by His Majesty out of his private purse, tobuy Victurnien's innocence, if his adversary can be bribed. If we failutterly, I have brought poison to snatch him away before anythingtakes place, before even the indictment is drawn up. But we shall notfail. I have sent word to the public prosecutor; he is on the roadbehind me; he could not travel in my caleche, because he wished totake the instructions of the Keeper of the Seals. "

Chesnel rose to the occasion and played up to the Duchess; he wrappedhimself in his dressing-gown, fell at her feet, and kissed them, notwithout asking her pardon for forgetting himself in his joy. 

"We are saved!" cried he; and gave orders to Brigitte to see that Mme. La Duchesse had all that she needed after traveling post all night. Heappealed to the fair Diane's spirit, by making her see that it wasabsolutely necessary that she should visit the examining magistratebefore daylight, lest any one should discover the secret, or so muchas imagine that the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse had come. 

"And have I not a passport in due form?" quoth she, displaying a sheetof paper, wherein she was described as M. Le Vicomte Felix deVandeness, Master of Requests, and His Majesty's private secretary. "And do I not play my man's part well?" she added, running her fingersthrough her wig a la Titus, and twirling her riding switch. 

"O! Mme. La Duchesse, you are an angel!" cried Chesnel, with tears inhis eyes. (She was destined always to be an angel, even in man'sattire. ) "Button up your greatcoat, muffle yourself up to the eyes inyour traveling cloak, take my arm, and let us go as quickly aspossible to Camusot's house before anybody can meet us. "

"Then am I going to see a man called Camusot?" she asked. 

"With a nose to match his name, "[*] assented Chesnel. 

[*] Camus, flat-nosed

The old notary felt his heart dead within him, but he thought it nonethe less necessary to humor the Duchess, to laugh when she laughed, and shed tears when she wept; groaning in spirit, all the same, overthe feminine frivolity which could find matter for a jest whilesetting about a matter so serious. What would he not have done to savethe Count? While Chesnel dressed; Mme. De Maufrigneuse sipped the cupof coffee and cream which Brigitte brought her, and agreed withherself that provincial women cooks are superior to Parisian chefs, who despise the little details which make all the difference to anepicure. Thanks to Chesnel's taste for delicate fare, Brigitte wasfound prepared to set an excellent meal before the Duchess. 

Chesnel and his charming companion set out for M. And Mme. Camusot'shouse. 

"Ah! so there is a Mme. Camusot?" said the Duchess. "Then the affairmay be managed. "

"And so much the more readily, because the lady is visibly tiredenough of living among us provincials; she comes from Paris, " saidChesnel. 

"Then we must have no secrets from her?"

"You will judge how much to tell or to conceal, " Chesnel repliedhumbly. "I am sure that she will be greatly flattered to be theDuchesse de Maufrigneuse's hostess; you will be obliged to stay in herhouse until nightfall, I expect, unless you find it inconvenient toremain. "

"Is this Mme. Camusot a good-looking woman?" asked the Duchess, with acoxcomb's air. 

"She is a bit of a queen in her own house. "

"Then she is sure to meddle in court-house affairs, " returned theDuchess. "Nowhere but in France, my dear M. Chesnel, do you see womenso much wedded to their husbands that they are wedded to theirhusband's professions, work, or business as well. In Italy, England, and Germany, women make it a point of honor to leave men to fighttheir own battles; they shut their eyes to their husbands' work asperseveringly as our French citizens' wives do all that in them liesto understand the position of their joint-stock partnership; is notthat what you call it in your legal language? Frenchwomen are soincredibly jealous in the conduct of their married life, that theyinsist on knowing everything; and that is how, in the leastdifficulty, you feel the wife's hand in the business; the Frenchwomanadvises, guides, and warns her husband. And, truth to tell, the man isnone the worse off. In England, if a married man is put in prison fordebt for twenty-four hours, his wife will be jealous and make a scenewhen he comes back. "

"Here we are, without meeting a soul on the way, " said Chesnel. "Youare the more sure of complete ascendency here, Mme. La Duchesse, sinceMme. Camusot's father is one Thirion, usher of the royal cabinet. "

"And the King never thought of that!" exclaimed the Duchess. "Hethinks of nothing! Thirion introduced us, the Prince de Cadignan, M. De Vandeness, and me! We shall have it all our own way in this house. Settle everything with M. Camusot while I talk to his wife. "

The maid, who was washing and dressing the children, showed thevisitors into the little fireless dining-room. 

"Take that card to your mistress, " said the Duchess, lowering hervoice for the woman's ear; "nobody else is to see it. If you arediscreet, child, you shall not lose by it. "

At the sound of a woman's voice, and the sight of the handsome youngman's face, the maid looked thunderstruck. 

"Wake M. Camusot, " said Chesnel, "and tell him, that I am waiting tosee him on important business, " and she departed upstairs forthwith. 

A few minutes later Mme. Camusot, in her dressing-gown, sprangdownstairs and brought the handsome stranger into her room. She hadpushed Camusot out of bed and into his study with all his clothes, bidding him dress himself at once and wait there. The transformationscene had been brought about by a bit of pasteboard with the wordsMADAME LA DUCHESSE DE MAUFRIGNEUSE engraved upon it. A daughter of theusher of the royal cabinet took in the whole situation at once. 

"Well!" exclaimed the maid-servant, left with Chesnel in thedining-room, "Would not any one think that a thunderbolt had droppedin among us? The master is dressing in his study; you can go upstairs. "

"Not a word of all this, mind, " said Chesnel. 

Now that he was conscious of the support of a great lady who had theKing's consent (by word of mouth) to the measures about to be takenfor rescuing the Comte d'Esgrignon, he spoke with an air of authority, which served his cause much better with Camusot than the humility withwhich he would otherwise have approached him. 

"Sir, " said he, "the words let fall last evening may have surprisedyou, but they are serious. The house of d'Esgrignon counts upon youfor the proper conduct of investigations from which it must issuewithout a spot. "

"I shall pass over anything in your remarks, sir, which must beoffensive to me personally, and obnoxious to justice; for yourposition with regard to the d'Esgrignons excuses you up to a certainpoint, but----"

"Pardon me, sir, if I interrupt you, " said Chesnel. "I have justspoken aloud the things which your superiors are thinking and dare notavow; though what those things are any intelligent man can guess, andyou are an intelligent man. --Grant that the young man had actedimprudently, can you suppose that the sight of a d'Esgrignon draggedinto an Assize Court can be gratifying to the King, the Court, or theMinistry? Is it to the interest of the kingdom, or of the country, that historic houses should fall? Is not the existence of a greataristocracy, consecrated by time, a guarantee of that Equality whichis the catchword of the Opposition at this moment? Well and good; nownot only has there not been the slightest imprudence, but we areinnocent victims caught in a trap. "

"I am curious to know how, " said the examining magistrate. 

"For the last two years, the Sieur du Croisier has regularly allowedM. Le Comte d'Esgrignon to draw upon him for very large sums, " saidChesnel. "We are going to produce drafts for more than a hundredthousand crowns, which he continually met; the amounts being remittedby me--bear that well in mind--either before or after the bills felldue. M. Le Comte d'Esgrignon is in a position to produce a receipt forthe sum paid by him, before this bill, this alleged forgery was drawn. Can you fail to see in that case that this charge is a piece of spiteand party feeling? And a charge brought against the heir of a greathouse by one of the most dangerous enemies of the Throne and Altar, what is it but an odious slander? There has been no more forgery inthis affair than there has been in my office. Summon Mme. Du Croisier, who knows nothing as yet of the charge of forgery; she will declare toyou that I brought the money and paid it over to her, so that in herhusband's absence she might remit the amount for which he has notasked her. Examine du Croisier on the point; he will tell you that heknows nothing of my payment to Mme. Du Croisier. 

"You may make such assertions as these, sir, in M. D'Esgrignon'ssalon, or in any other house where people know nothing of business, and they may be believed; but no examining magistrate, unless he is adriveling idiot, can imagine that a woman like Mme. Du Croisier, sosubmissive as she is to her husband, has a hundred thousand crownslying in her desk at this moment, without saying a word to him; noryet that an old notary would not have advised M. Du Croisier of thedeposit on his return to town. "

"The old notary, sir, had gone to Paris to put a stop to the youngman's extravagance. "

"I have not yet examined the Comte d'Esgrignon, " Camusot began; "hisanswers will point out my duty. "

"Is he in close custody?"

"Yes. "

"Sir, " said Chesnel, seeing danger ahead, "the examination can be madein our interests or against them. But there are two courses open toyou: you can establish the fact on Mme. Du Croisier's deposition thatthe amount was deposited with her before the bill was drawn; or youcan examine the unfortunate young man implicated in this affair, andhe in his confusion may remember nothing and commit himself. You willdecide which is the more credible--a slip of memory on the part of awoman in her ignorance of business, or a forgery committed by ad'Esgrignon. "

"All this is beside the point, " began Camusot; "the question is, whether M. Le Comte d'Esgrignon has or has not used the lower half ofa letter addressed to him by du Croisier as a bill of exchange. "

"Eh! and so he might, " a voice cried suddenly, as Mme. Camusot brokein, followed by the handsome stranger, "so he might when M. Chesnelhad advanced the money to meet the bill----"

She leant over her husband. 

"You will have the first vacant appointment as assistant judge atParis, you are serving the King himself in this affair; I have proofof it; you will not be forgotten, " she said, lowering her voice in hisear. "This young man that you see here is the Duchesse deMaufrigneuse; you must never have seen her, and do all that you canfor the young Count boldly. "

"Gentlemen, " said Camusot, "even if the preliminary examination isconducted to prove the young Count's innocence, can I answer for theview the court may take? M. Chesnel, and you also, my sweet, know whatM. Le President wants. "

"Tut, tut, tut!" said Mme. Camusot, "go yourself to M. Michu thismorning, and tell him that the Count has been arrested; you will betwo against two in that case, I will be bound. /Michu/ comes from Paris, and you know he is devoted to the noblesse. Good blood cannot lie. "

At that very moment Mlle. Cadot's voice was heard in the doorway. Shehad brought a note, and was waiting for an answer. Camusot went out, and came back again to read the note aloud:

"M. Le Vice-President begs M. Camusot to sit in audience to-day andfor the next few days, so that there may be a quorum during M. LePresident's absence. "

"Then there is an end of the preliminary examination!" cried Mme. Camusot. "Did I not tell you, dear, that they would play you some uglytrick? The President has gone off to slander you to the publicprosecutor and the President of the Court-Royal. You will be changedbefore you can make the examination. Is that clear?"

"You will stay, monsieur, " said the Duchess. "The public prosecutor iscoming, I hope, in time. "

"When the public prosecutor arrives, " little Mme. Camusot said, withsome heat, "he must find all over. --Yes, my dear, yes, " she added, looking full at her amazed husband. --"Ah! old hypocrite of aPresident, you are setting your wits against us; you shall rememberit! You have a mind to help us to a dish of your own making, you shallhave two served up to you by your humble servant Cecile AmelieThirion!--Poor old Blondet! It is lucky for him that the President hastaken this journey to turn us out, for now that great oaf of a JosephBlondet will marry Mlle. Blandureau. I will let Father Blondet havesome seeds in return. --As for you, Camusot, go to M. Michu's, whileMme. La Duchesse and I will go to find old Blondet. You must expect tohear it said all over the town to-morrow that I took a walk with alover this morning. "

Mme. Camusot took the Duchess' arm, and they went through the town bydeserted streets to avoid any unpleasant adventure on the way to theold Vice-President's house. Chesnel meanwhile conferred with the youngCount in prison; Camusot had arranged a stolen interview. Cook-maids, servants, and the other early risers of a country town, seeing Mme. Camusot and the Duchess taking their way through the back streets, took the young gentleman for an adorer from Paris. That evening, asCecile Amelie had said, the news of her behavior was circulated aboutthe town, and more than one scandalous rumor was occasioned thereby. Mme. Camusot and her supposed lover found old Blondet in hisgreenhouse. He greeted his colleague's wife and her companion, andgave the charming young man a keen, uneasy glance. 

"I have the honor to introduce one of my husband's cousins, " said Mme. Camusot, bringing forward the Duchess; "he is one of the mostdistinguished horticulturists in Paris; and as he cannot spend morethan one day with us, on his way back from Brittany, and has heard ofyour flowers and plants, I have taken the liberty of coming early. "

"Oh, the gentleman is a horticulturist, is he?" said the old Blondet. 

The Duchess bowed. 

"This is my coffee-plant, " said Blondet, "and here is a tea-plant. "

"What can have taken M. Le President away from home?" put in Mme. Camusot. "I will wager that his absence concerns M. Camusot. "

"Exactly. --This, monsieur, is the queerest of all cactuses, " hecontinued, producing a flower-pot which appeared to contain a piece ofmildewed rattan; "it comes from Australia. You are very young, sir, tobe a horticulturist. "

"Dear M. Blondet, never mind your flowers, " said Mme. Camusot. "/You/are concerned, you and your hopes, and your son's marriage with Mlle. Blandureau. You are duped by the President. "

"Bah!" said old Blondet, with an incredulous air. 

"Yes, " retorted she. "If you cultivated people a little more and yourflowers a little less, you would know that the dowry and the hopes youhave sown, and watered, and tilled, and weeded are on the point ofbeing gathered now by cunning hands. "

"Madame!----"

"Oh, nobody in the town will have the courage to fly in thePresident's face and warn you. I, however, do not belong to the town, and, thanks to this obliging young man, I shall soon be going back toParis; so I can inform you that Chesnel's successor has made formalproposals for Mlle. Claire Blandureau's hand on behalf of young duRonceret, who is to have fifty thousand crowns from his parents. Asfor Fabien, he has made up his mind to receive a call to the bar, soas to gain an appointment as judge. "

Old Blondet dropped the flower-pot which he had brought out for theDuchess to see. 

"Oh, my cactus! Oh, my son! and Mlle. Blandureau! . . . Look here! thecactus flower is broken to pieces. "

"No, " Mme. Camusot answered, laughing; "everything can be put right. If you have a mind to see your son a judge in another month, we willtell you how you must set to work----"

"Step this way, sir, and you will see my pelargoniums, an enchantingsight while they are in flower----" Then he added to Mme. Camusot, "Why did you speak of these matters while your cousin was present. "

"All depends upon him, " riposted Mme. Camusot. "Your son's appointmentis lost for ever if you let fall a word about this young man. "

"Bah!"

"The young man is a flower----"

"Ah!"

"He is the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse, sent here by His Majesty to saveyoung d'Esgrignon, whom they arrested yesterday on a charge of forgerybrought against him by du Croisier. Mme. La Duchesse has authorityfrom the Keeper of the Seals; he will ratify any promises that shemakes to us----"

"My cactus is all right!" exclaimed Blondet, peering at his preciousplant. --"Go on, I am listening. "

"Take counsel with Camusot and Michu to hush up the affair as soon aspossible, and your son will get the appointment. It will come in timeenough to baffle du Ronceret's underhand dealings with theBlandureaus. Your son will be something better than assistant judge;he will have M. Camusot's post within the year. The public prosecutorwill be here to-day. M. Sauvager will be obliged to resign, I expect, after his conduct in this affair. At the court my husband will showyou documents which completely exonerate the Count and prove that theforgery was a trap of du Croisier's own setting. "

Old Blondet went into the Olympic circus where his six thousandpelargoniums stood, and made his bow to the Duchess. 

"Monsieur, " said he, "if your wishes do not exceed the law, this thingmay be done. "

"Monsieur, " returned the Duchess, "send in your resignation to M. Chesnel to-morrow, and I will promise you that your son shall beappointed within the week; but you must not resign until you have hadconfirmation of my promise from the public prosecutor. You men of lawwill come to a better understanding among yourselves. Only let himknow that the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse had pledged her word to you. And not a word as to my journey hither, " she added. 

The old judge kissed her hand and began recklessly to gather his bestflowers for her. 

"Can you think of it? Give them to madame, " said the Duchess. "A youngman should not have flowers about him when he has a pretty woman onhis arm. "

"Before you go down to the court, " added Mme. Camusot, "ask Chesnel'ssuccessor about those proposals that he made in the name of M. AndMme. Du Ronceret. "

Old Blondet, quite overcome by this revelation of the President'sduplicity, stood planted on his feet by the wicket gate, looking afterthe two women as they hurried away through by-streets home again. Theedifice raised so painfully during ten years for his beloved son wascrumbling visibly before his eyes. Was it possible? He suspected sometrick, and hurried away to Chesnel's successor. 

At half-past nine, before the court was sitting, Vice-PresidentBlondet, Camusot, and Michu met with remarkable punctuality in thecouncil chamber. Blondet locked the door with some precautions whenCamusot and Michu came in together. 

"Well, Mr. Vice-President, " began Michu, "M. Sauvager, withoutconsulting the public prosecutor, has issued a warrant for theapprehension of one Comte d'Esgrignon, in order to serve a grudgeborne against him by one du Croisier, an enemy of the King'sgovernment. It is a regular topsy-turvy affair. The President, for hispart, goes away, and thereby puts a stop to the preliminaryexamination! And we know nothing of the matter. Do they, by anychance, mean to force our hand?"

"This is the first word I have heard of it, " said the Vice-President. He was furious with the President for stealing a march on him with theBlandureaus. Chesnel's successor, the du Roncerets' man, had justfallen into a snare set by the old judge; the truth was out, he knewthe secret. 

"It is lucky that we spoke to you about the matter, my dear master, "said Camusot, "or you might have given up all hope of seating your sonon the bench or of marrying him to Mlle. Blandureau. "

"But it is no question of my son, nor of his marriage, " said theVice-President; "we are talking of young Comte d'Esgrignon. Is he oris he not guilty?"

"It seems that Chesnel deposited the amount to meet the bill with Mme. Du Croisier, " said Michu, "and a crime has been made of a mereirregularity. According to the charge, the Count made use of the lowerhalf of a letter bearing du Croisier's signature as a draft which hecashed at the Kellers'. "

"An imprudent thing to do, " was Camusot's comment. 

"But why is du Croisier proceeding against him if the amount was paidin beforehand?" asked Vice-President Blondet. 

"He does not know that the money was deposited with his wife; or hepretends that he does not know, " said Camusot. 

"It is a piece of provincial spite, " said Michu. 

"Still it looks like a forgery to me, " said old Blondet. No passioncould obscure judicial clear-sightedness in him. 

"Do you think so?" returned Camusot. "But, at the outset, supposingthat the Count had no business to draw upon du Croisier, there wouldstill be no forgery of the signature; and the Count believed that hehad a right to draw on Croisier when Chesnel advised him that themoney had been placed to his credit. "

"Well, then, where is the forgery?" asked Blondet. "It is the intentto defraud which constitutes forgery in a civil action. "

"Oh, it is clear, if you take du Croisier's version for truth, thatthe signature was diverted from its purpose to obtain a sum of moneyin spite of du Croisier's contrary injunction to his bankers, " Camusotanswered. 

"Gentlemen, " said Blondet, "this seems to me to be a mere triffle, aquibble. --Suppose you had the money, I ought perhaps to have waiteduntil I had your authorization; but I, Comte d'Esgrignon, was pressedfor money, so I---- Come, come, your prosecution is a piece ofrevengeful spite. Forgery is defined by the law as an attempt toobtain any advantage which rightfully belongs to another. There is noforgery here, according to the letter of the Roman law, nor accordingto the spirit of modern jurisprudence (always from the point of acivil action, for we are not here concerned with the falsification ofpublic or authentic documents). Between private individuals theessence of a forgery is the intent to defraud; where is it in thiscase? In what times are we living, gentlemen? Here is the Presidentgoing away to balk a preliminary examination which ought to be over bythis time! Until to-day I did not know M. Le President, but he shallhave the benefit of arrears; from this time forth he shall draft hisdecisions himself. You must set about this affair with all possiblespeed, M. Camusot. "

"Yes, " said Michu. "In my opinion, instead of letting the young manout on bail, we ought to pull him out of this mess at once. Everythingturns on the examination of du Croisier and his wife. You mightsummons them to appear while the court is sitting, M. Camusot; takedown their depositions before four o'clock, send in your reportto-night, and we will give our decision in the morning before the courtsits. "

"We will settle what course to pursue while the barristers arepleading, " said Vice-President Blondet, addressing Camusot. 

And with that the three judges put on their robes and went into court. 

At noon Mlle. Armande and the Bishop reached the Hotel d'Esgrignon;Chesnel and M. Couturier were there to meet them. There was asufficiently short conference between the prelate and Mme. DuCroisier's director, and the latter set out at once to visit hischarge. 

At eleven o'clock that morning du Croisier received a summons toappear in the examining magistrate's office between one and two in theafternoon. Thither he betook himself, consumed by well-foundedsuspicions. It was impossible that the President should have foreseenthe arrival of the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse upon the scene, the returnof the public prosecutor, and the hasty confabulation of his learnedbrethren; so he had omitted to trace out a plan for du Croisier'sguidance in the event of the preliminary examination taking place. Neither of the pair imagined that the proceedings would be hurried onin this way. Du Croisier obeyed the summons at once; he wanted to knowhow M. Camusot was disposed to act. So he was compelled to answer thequestions put to him. Camusot addressed him in summary fashion withthe six following inquiries:--

"Was the signature on the bill alleged to be a forgery in yourhandwriting?--Had you previously done business with M. Le Comted'Esgrignon?--Was not M. Le Comte d'Esgrignon in the habit of drawingupon you, with or without advice?--Did you not write a letterauthorizing M. D'Esgrignon to rely upon you at any time?-- Had notChesnel squared the account not once, but many times already?-- Wereyou not away from home when this took place?"

All these questions the banker answered in the affirmative. In spiteof wordy explanations, the magistrate always brought him back to a"Yes" or "No. " When the questions and answers alike had been resumedin the proces-verbal, the examining magistrate brought out a finalthunderbolt. 

"Was du Croisier aware that the money destined to meet the bill hadbeen deposited with him, du Croisier, according to Chesnel'sdeclaration, and a letter of advice sent by the said Chesnel to theComte d'Esgrignon, five days before the date of the bill?"

That last question frightened du Croisier. He asked what was meant byit, and whether he was supposed to be the defendant and M. Le Comted'Esgrignon the plaintiff? He called the magistrate's attention to thefact that if the money had been deposited with him, there was noground for the action. 

"Justice is seeking information, " said the magistrate, as he dismissedthe witness, but not before he had taken down du Croisier's lastobservation. 

"But the money, sir----"

"The money is at your house. "

Chesnel, likewise summoned, came forward to explain the matter. Thetruth of his assertions was borne out by Mme. Du Croisier'sdeposition. The Count had already been examined. Prompted by Chesnel, he produced du Croisier's first letter, in which he begged the Countto draw upon him without the insulting formality of depositing theamount beforehand. The Comte d'Esgrignon next brought out a letter inChesnel's handwriting, by which the notary advised him of the depositof a hundred thousand crowns with M. Du Croisier. With such primaryfacts as these to bring forward as evidence, the young Count'sinnocence was bound to emerge triumphantly from a court of law. 

Du Croisier went home from the court, his face white with rage, andthe foam of repressed fury on his lips. His wife was sitting by thefireside in the drawing-room at work upon a pair of slippers for him. She trembled when she looked into his face, but her mind was made up. 

"Madame, " he stammered out, "what deposition is this that you madebefore the magistrate? You have dishonored, ruined, and betrayed me!"

"I have saved you, monsieur, " answered she. "If some day you will havethe honor of connecting yourself with the d'Esgrignons by marryingyour niece to the Count, it will be entirely owing to my conductto-day. "

"A miracle!" cried he. "Balaam's ass has spoken. Nothing will astonishme after this. And where are the hundred thousand crowns which (so M. Camusot tells me) are here in my house?"

"Here they are, " said she, pulling out a bundle of banknotes frombeneath the cushions of her settee. "I have not committed mortal sinby declaring that M. Chesnel gave them into my keeping. "

"While I was away?"

"You were not here. "

"Will you swear that to me on your salvation?"

"I swear it, " she said composedly. 

"Then why did you say nothing to me about it?" demanded he. 

"I was wrong there, " said his wife, "but my mistake was all for yourgood. Your niece will be Marquise d'Esgrignon some of these days, andyou will perhaps be a deputy, if you behave well in this deplorablebusiness. You have gone too far; you must find out how to get backagain. "

Du Croisier, under stress of painful agitation, strode up and down hisdrawing-room; while his wife, in no less agitation, awaited the resultof this exercise. Du Croisier at length rang the bell. 

"I am not at home to any one to-night, " he said, when the manappeared; "shut the gates; and if any one calls, tell them that yourmistress and I have gone into the country. We shall start directlyafter dinner, and dinner must be half an hour earlier than usual. "

The great news was discussed that evening in every drawing-room;little shopkeepers, working folk, beggars, the noblesse, the merchantclass--the whole town, in short, was talking of the Comted'Esgrignon's arrest on a charge of forgery. The Comte d'Esgrignonwould be tried in the Assize Court; he would be condemned and branded. Most of those who cared for the honor of the family denied the fact. At nightfall Chesnel went to Mme. Camusot and escorted the stranger tothe Hotel d'Esgrignon. Poor Mlle. Armande was expecting him; she ledthe fair Duchess to her own room, which she had given up to her, forhis lordship the Bishop occupied Victurnien's chamber; and, left alonewith her guest, the noble woman glanced at the Duchess with mostpiteous eyes. 

"You owed help, indeed, madame, to the poor boy who ruined himself foryour sake, " she said, "the boy to whom we are all of us sacrificingourselves. "

The Duchess had already made a woman's survey of Mlle. D'Esgrignon'sroom; the cold, bare, comfortless chamber, that might have been anun's cell, was like a picture of the life of the heroic woman beforeher. The Duchess saw it all--past, present, and future--with risingemotion, felt the incongruity of her presence, and could not keep backthe falling tears that made answer for her. 

But in Mlle. Armande the Christian overcame Victurnien's aunt. "Ah, Iwas wrong; forgive me, Mme. La Duchesse; you did not know how poor wewere, and my nephew was incapable of the admission. And besides, nowthat I see you, I can understand all--even the crime!"

And Mlle. Armande, withered and thin and white, but beautiful as thosetall austere slender figures which German art alone can paint, hadtears too in her eyes. 

"Do not fear, dear angel, " the Duchess said at last; "he is safe. "

"Yes, but honor?--and his career? Chesnel told me; the King knows thetruth. "

"We will think of a way of repairing the evil, " said the Duchess. 

Mlle. Armande went downstairs to the salon, and found the Collectionof Antiquities complete to a man. Every one of them had come, partlyto do honor to the Bishop, partly to rally round the Marquis; butChesnel, posted in the antechamber, warned each new arrival to say noword of the affair, that the aged Marquis might never know that such athing had been. The loyal Frank was quite capable of killing his sonor du Croisier; for either the one or the other must have been guiltyof death in his eyes. It chanced, strangely enough, that he talkedmore of Victurnien than usual; he was glad that his son had gone backto Paris. The King would give Victurnien a place before very long; theKing was interesting himself at last in the d'Esgrignons. And hisfriends, their hearts dead within them, praised Victurnien's conductto the skies. Mlle. Armande prepared the way for her nephew's suddenappearance among them by remarking to her brother that Victurnienwould be sure to come to see them, and that he must be even then onhis way. 

"Bah!" said the Marquis, standing with his back to the hearth, "if heis doing well where he is, he ought to stay there, and not be thinkingof the joy it would give his old father to see him again. The King'sservice has the first claim. "

Scarcely one of those present heard the words without a shudder. Justice might give over a d'Esgrignon to the executioner's brandingiron. There was a dreadful pause. The old Marquise de Casteran couldnot keep back a tear that stole down over her rouge, and turned herhead away to hide it. 

Next day at noon, in the sunny weather, a whole excited population wasdispersed in groups along the high street, which ran through the heartof the town, and nothing was talked of but the great affair. Was theCount in prison or was he not?--All at once the Comte d'Esgrignon'swell-known tilbury was seen driving down the Rue Saint-Blaise; it hadevidently come from the Prefecture, the Count himself was on the boxseat, and by his side sat a charming young man, whom nobodyrecognized. The pair were laughing and talking and in great spirits. They wore Bengal roses in their button-holes. Altogether, it was atheatrical surprise which words fail to describe. 

At ten o'clock the court had decided to dismiss the charge, statingtheir very sufficient reasons for setting the Count at liberty, in adocument which contained a thunderbolt for du Croisier, in the shapeof an /inasmuch/ that gave the Count the right to instituteproceedings for libel. Old Chesnel was walking up the Grand Rue, as ifby accident, telling all who cared to hear him that du Croisier had setthe most shameful of snares for the d'Esgrignons' honor, and that itwas entirely owing to the forbearance and magnanimity of the familythat he was not prosecuted for slander. 

On the evening of that famous day, after the Marquis d'Esgrignon hadgone to bed, the Count, Mlle. Armande, and the Chevalier were leftwith the handsome young page, now about to return to Paris. Thecharming cavalier's sex could not be hidden from the Chevalier, and healone, besides the three officials and Mme. Camusot, knew that theDuchess had been among them. 

"The house is saved, " began Chesnel, "but after this shock it willtake a hundred years to rise again. The debts must be paid now; youmust marry an heiress, M. Le Comte, there is nothing left for you todo. "

"And take her where you may find her, " said the Duchess. 

"A second mesalliance!" exclaimed Mlle. Armande. 

The Duchess began to laugh. 

"It is better to marry than to die, " she said. As she spoke she drewfrom her waistcoat pocket a tiny crystal phial that came from thecourt apothecary. 

Mlle. Armande shrank away in horror. Old Chesnel took the fairMaufrigneuse's hand, and kissed it without permission. 

"Are you all out of your minds here?" continued the Duchess. "Do youreally expect to live in the fifteenth century when the rest of theworld has reached the nineteenth? My dear children, there is nonoblesse nowadays; there is no aristocracy left! Napoleon's Code Civilmade an end of the parchments, exactly as cannon made an end of feudalcastles. When you have some money, you will be very much more ofnobles than you are now. Marry anybody you please, Victurnien, youwill raise your wife to your rank; that is the most substantialprivilege left to the French noblesse. Did not M. De Talleyrand marryMme. Grandt without compromising his position? Remember that LouisXIV. Took the Widow Scarron for his wife. "

"He did not marry her for her money, " interposed Mlle. Armande. 

"If the Comtesse d'Esgrignon were one du Croisier's niece, forinstance, would you receive her?" asked Chesnel. 

"Perhaps, " replied the Duchess; "but the King, beyond all doubt, wouldbe very glad to see her. --So you do not know what is going on in theworld?" continued she, seeing the amazement in their faces. "Victurnien has been in Paris; he knows how things go there. We hadmore influence under Napoleon. Marry Mlle. Duval, Victurnien; she willbe just as much Marquise d'Esgrignon as I am Duchesse deMaufrigneuse. "

"All is lost--even honor!" said the Chevalier, with a wave of thehand. 

"Good-bye, Victurnien, " said the Duchess, kissing her lover on theforehead; "we shall not see each other again. Live on your lands; thatis the best thing for you to do; the air of Paris is not at all goodfor you. "

"Diane!" the young Count cried despairingly. 

"Monsieur, you forget yourself strangely, " the Duchess retortedcoolly, as she laid aside her role of man and mistress, and became notmerely an angel again, but a duchess, and not only a duchess, butMoliere's Celimene. 

The Duchesse de Maufrigneuse made a stately bow to these fourpersonages, and drew from the Chevalier his last tear of admiration atthe service of le beau sexe. 

"How like she is to the Princess Goritza!" he exclaimed in a lowvoice. 

Diane had disappeared. The crack of the postilion's whip toldVicturnien that the fair romance of his first love was over. Whileperil lasted, Diane could still see her lover in the young Count; butout of danger, she despised him for the weakling that he was. 

Six months afterwards, Camusot received the appointment of assistantjudge at Paris, and later he became an examining magistrate. GoodmanBlondet was made a councillor to the Royal-Court; he held the postjust long enough to secure a retiring pension, and then went back tolive in his pretty little house. Joseph Blondet sat in his father'sseat at the court till the end of his days; there was not the faintestchance of promotion for him, but he became Mlle. Blandereau's husband;and she, no doubt, is leading to-day, in the little flower-coveredbrick house, as dull a life as any carp in a marble basin. Michu andCamusot also received the Cross of the Legion of Honor, while Blondetbecame an Officer. As for M. Sauvager, deputy public prosecutor, hewas sent to Corsica, to du Croisier's great relief; he had decidedlyno mind to bestow his niece upon that functionary. 

Du Croisier himself, urged by President du Ronceret, appealed from thefinding of the Tribunal to the Court-Royal, and lost his cause. TheLiberals throughout the department held that little d'Esgrignon wasguilty; while the Royalists, on the other hand, told frightful storiesof plots woven by "that abominable du Croisier" to compass hisrevenge. A duel was fought indeed; the hazard of arms favored duCroisier, the young Count was dangerously wounded, and his antagonistmaintained his words. This affair embittered the strife between thetwo parties; the Liberals brought it forward on all occasions. Meanwhile du Croisier never could carry his election, and saw no hopeof marrying his niece to the Count, especially after the duel. 

A month after the decision of the Tribunal was confirmed in theCourt-Royal, Chesnel died, exhausted by the dreadful strain, which hadweakened and shaken him mentally and physically. He died in the hourof victory, like some old faithful hound that has brought the boar tobay, and gets his death on the tusks. He died as happily as might be, seeing that he left the great House all but ruined, and the heir inpenury, bored to death by an idle life, and without a hope ofestablishing himself. That bitter thought and his own exhaustion, nodoubt, hastened the old man's end. One great comfort came to him as helay amid the wreck of so many hopes, sinking under the burden of somany cares--the old Marquis, at his sister's entreaty, gave him backall the old friendship. The great lord came to the little house in theRue du Bercail, and sat by his old servant's bedside, all unaware howmuch that servant had done and sacrificed for him. Chesnel satupright, and repeated Simeon's cry. --The Marquis allowed them to buryChesnel in the castle chapel; they laid him crosswise at the foot ofthe tomb which was waiting for the Marquis himself, the last, in asense, of the d'Esgrignons. 

And so died one of the last representatives of that great andbeautiful thing, Service; giving to that often discredited word itsoriginal meaning, the relation between feudal lord and servitor. Thatrelation, only to be found in some out-of-the-way province, or among afew old servants of the King, did honor alike to a noblesse that couldcall forth such affection, and to a bourgeoisie that could conceiveit. Such noble and magnificent devotion is no longer possible amongus. Noble houses have no servitors left; even as France has no longera King, nor an hereditary peerage, nor lands that are boundirrevocably to an historic house, that the glorious names of thenation may be perpetuated. Chesnel was not merely one of the obscuregreat men of private life; he was something more--he was a great fact. In his sustained self-devotion is there not something indefinablysolemn and sublime, something that rises above the one beneficentdeed, or the heroic height which is reached by a moment's supremeeffort? Chesnel's virtues belong essentially to the classes whichstand between the poverty of the people on the one hand, and thegreatness of the aristocracy on the other; for these can combinehomely burgher virtues with the heroic ideals of the noble, enlightening both by a solid education. 

Victurnien was not well looked upon at Court; there was no more chanceof a great match for him, nor a place. His Majesty steadily refused toraise the d'Esgrignons to the peerage, the one royal favor which couldrescue Victurnien from his wretched position. It was impossible thathe should marry a bourgeoise heiress in his father's lifetime, so hewas bound to live on shabbily under the paternal roof with memories ofhis two years of splendor in Paris, and the lost love of a great ladyto bear him company. He grew moody and depressed, vegetating at homewith a careworn aunt and a half heart-broken father, who attributedhis son's condition to a wasting malady. Chesnel was no longer there. 

The Marquis died in 1830. The great d'Esgrignon, with a following ofall the less infirm noblesse from the Collection of Antiquities, wentto wait upon Charles X. At Nonancourt; he paid his respects to hissovereign, and swelled the meagre train of the fallen king. It was anact of courage which seems simple enough to-day, but, in that time ofenthusiastic revolt, it was heroism. 

"The Gaul has conquered!" These were the Marquis' last words. 

By that time du Croisier's victory was complete. The new Marquisd'Esgrignon accepted Mlle. Duval as his wife a week after his oldfather's death. His bride brought him three millions of francs for duCroisier and his wife settled the reversion of their fortunes upon herin the marriage-contract. Du Croisier took occasion to say during theceremony that the d'Esgrignon family was the most honorable of all theancient houses in France. 

Some day the present Marquis d'Esgrignon will have an income of morethan a hundred thousand crowns. You may see him in Paris, for he comesto town every winter and leads a jolly bachelor life, while he treatshis wife with something more than the indifference of the grandseigneur of olden times; he takes no thought whatever for her. 

"As for Mlle. D'Esgrignon, " said Emile Blondet, to whom all the detailof the story is due, "if she is no longer like the divinely fair womanwhom I saw by glimpses in my childhood, she is decidedly, at the ageof sixty-seven, the most pathetic and interesting figure in theCollection of Antiquities. She queens it among them still. I saw herwhen I made my last journey to my native place in search of thenecessary papers for my marriage. When my father knew who it was thatI had married, he was struck dumb with amazement; he had not a word tosay until I told him that I was a prefect. 

"'You were born to it, ' he said, with a smile. 

"As I took a walk around the town, I met Mlle. Armande. She lookedtaller than ever. I looked at her, and thought of Marius among theruins of Carthage. Had she not outlived her creed, and the beliefsthat had been destroyed? She is a sad and silent woman, with nothingof her old beauty left except the eyes, that shine with an unearthlylight. I watched her on her way to mass, with her book in her hand, and could not help thinking that she prayed to God to take her out ofthe world. "

LES JARDIES, July 1837. 

ADDENDUM

The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. 

Note: The Old Maid is a companion piece to The Collection ofAntiquities. In other Addendum appearances they are combined under thetitle of The Jealousies of a Country Town. 

Blondet (Judge) Beatrix

Blondet, Emile A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Modeste Mignon Another Study of Woman The Secrets of a Princess A Daughter of Eve The Firm of Nucingen The Peasantry

Blondet, Virginie The Secrets of a Princess The Peasantry A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Another Study of Woman The Member for Arcis A Daughter of Eve

Bousquier, Du (or Du Croisier or Du Bourguier) The Old Maid The Middle Classes

Bousquier, Madame du (or du Croisier) The Old Maid

Camusot de Marville Cousin Pons The Commission in Lunacy Scenes from a Cuortesan's Life

Camusot de Marville, Madame The Vendetta Cesar Birotteau Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Cousin Pons

Cardot (Parisian notary) The Muse of the Department A Man of Business Pierre Grassou The Middle Classes Cousin Pons

Casteran, De The Chouans The Seamy Side of History The Old Maid Beatrix The Peasantry

Chesnel (or Choisnel) The Seamy Side of History The Old Maid

Coudrai, Du The Old Maid

Esgrignon, Charles-Marie-Victor-Ange-Carol, Marquis d' (or Des Grignons) The Chouans The Old Maid

Esgrignon, Victurnien, Comte (then Marquis d') Letters of Two Brides A Man of Business The Secrets of a Princess Cousin Betty

Esgrignon, Marie-Armande-Claire d' The Old Maid

Herouville, Duc d' The Hated Son Modeste Mignon Cousin Betty

Lenoncourt, Duc de The Lily of the Valley Cesar Birotteau The Old Maid The Gondreville Mystery Beatrix

Leroi, Pierre The Chouans The Seamy Side of History

Marsay, Henri de The Thirteen The Unconscious Humorists Another Study of Woman The Lily of the Valley Father Goriot Ursule Mirouet A Marriage Settlement Lost Illusions A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Letters of Two Brides The Ball at Sceaux Modest Mignon The Secrets of a Princess The Gondreville Mystery A Daughter of Eve

Maufrigneuse, Duchesse de The Secrets of a Princess Modeste Mignon The Muse of the Department Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Letters of Two Brides Another Study of Woman The Gondreville Mystery The Member for Arcis

Michu, Francois The Gondreville Mystery The Member for Arcis

Pamiers, Vidame de The Thirteen

Ronceret, Du The Old Maid Beatrix

Ronceret, Madame du The Old Maid

Ronceret, Fabien-Felicien du (or Duronceret) Beatrix Gaudissart II

Scherbelloff, Princesse (or Scherbellof or Sherbelloff) The Peasantry

Thirion The Vendetta Cesar Birotteau

Troisville, Guibelin, Vicomte de The Seamy Side of History The Chouans The Old Maid The Peasantry

Valois, Chevalier de The Chouans The Old Maid

Verneuil, Duc de The Chouans The Old Maid