URSULA

 BY

 HONORE DE BALZAC

 Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley

 DEDICATION

 To Mademoiselle Sophie Surville, It is a true pleasure, my dear niece, to dedicate to you this book, the subject and details of which have won the approbation, so difficult to win, of a young girl to whom the world is still unknown, and who has compromised with none of the lofty principles of a saintly education. Young girls are indeed a formidable public, for they ought not to be allowed to read books less pure than the purity of their souls; they are forbidden certain reading, just as they are carefully prevented from seeing social life as it is. Must it not therefore be a source of pride to a writer to find that he has pleased you?

 God grant that your affection for me has not misled you. Who can tell? --the future; which you, I hope, will see, though not, perhaps. 

 Your uncle, De Balzac. 

 URSULA

 CHAPTER I

 THE FRIGHTENED HEIRS

Entering Nemours by the road to Paris, we cross the canal du Loing, the steep banks of which serve the double purpose of ramparts to thefields and of picturesque promenades for the inhabitants of thatpretty little town. Since 1830 several houses had unfortunately beenbuilt on the farther side of the bridge. If this sort of suburbincreases, the place will lose its present aspect of gracefuloriginality. 

In 1829, however, both sides of the road were clear, and the master ofthe post route, a tall, stout man about sixty years of age, sittingone fine autumn morning at the highest part of the bridge, could takein at a glance the whole of what is called in his business a "ruban dequeue. " The month of September was displaying its treasures; theatmosphere glowed above the grass and the pebbles; no cloud dimmed theblue of the sky, the purity of which in all parts, even close to thehorizon, showed the extreme rarefaction of the air. So Minoret-Levrault(for that was the post master's name) was obliged to shade his eyeswith one hand to keep them from being dazzled. With the air of a manwho was tired of waiting, he looked first to the charming meadowswhich lay to the right of the road where the aftermath was springingup, then to the hill-slopes covered with copses which extend, on theleft, from Nemours to Bouron. He could hear in the valley of the Loing, where the sounds on the road were echoed back from the hills, the trotof his own horses and the crack of his postilion's whip. 

None but a post master could feel impatient within sight of suchmeadows, filled with cattle worthy of Paul Potter and glowing beneatha Raffaelle sky, and beside a canal shaded with trees after Hobbema. Whoever knows Nemours knows that nature is there as beautiful as art, whose mission is to spiritualize it; there, the landscape has ideasand creates thought. But, on catching sight of Minoret-Levrault anartist would very likely have left the view to sketch the man, sooriginal was his in his native commonness. Unite in a human being allthe conditions of the brute and you have a Caliban, who is certainly agreat thing. Wherever form rules, sentiment disappears. The postmaster, a living proof of that axiom, presented a physiognomy in whichan observer could with difficulty trace, beneath the vivid carnationof its coarsely developed flesh, the semblance of a soul. His cap ofblue cloth, with a small peak, and sides fluted like a melon, outlineda head of vast dimensions, showing that Gall's science has not yetproduced its chapter of exceptions. The gray and rather shiny hairwhich appeared below the cap showed that other causes than mental toilor grief had whitened it. Large ears stood out from the head, theiredges scarred with the eruptions of his over-abundant blood, whichseemed ready to gush at the least exertion. His skin was crimson underan outside layer of brown, due to the habit of standing in the sun. The roving gray eyes, deep-sunken, and hidden by bushy black brows, were like those of the Kalmucks who entered France in 1815; if theyever sparkled it was only under the influence of a covetous thought. His broad pug nose was flattened at the base. Thick lips, in keepingwith a repulsive double chin, the beard of which, rarely cleaned morethan once a week, was encircled with a dirty silk handkerchief twistedto a cord; a short neck, rolling in fat, and heavy cheeks completedthe characteristics of brute force which sculptors give to theircaryatids. Minoret-Levrault was like those statues, with thisdifference, that whereas they supported an edifice, he had more thanhe could well do to support himself. You will meet many such Atlasesin the world. The man's torso was a block; it was like that of a bullstanding on his hind-legs. His vigorous arms ended in a pair of thick, hard hands, broad and strong and well able to handle whip, reins, andpitchfork; hands which his postilions never attempted to trifle with. The enormous stomach of this giant rested on thighs which were aslarge as the body of an ordinary adult, and feet like those of anelephant. Anger was a rare thing with him, but it was terrible, apoplectic, when it did burst forth. Though violent and quiteincapable of reflection, the man had never done anything thatjustified the sinister suggestions of his bodily presence. To allthose who felt afraid of him his postilions would reply, "Oh! he's notbad. "

The master of Nemours, to use the common abbreviation of the country, wore a velveteen shooting-jacket of bottle-green, trousers of greenlinen with great stripes, and an ample yellow waistcoat of goat'sskin, in the pocket of which might be discerned the round outline of amonstrous snuff-box. A snuff-box to a pug nose is a law withoutexception. 

A son of the Revolution and a spectator of the Empire, Minoret-Levraultdid not meddle with politics; as to his religious opinions, he hadnever set foot in a church except to be married; as to his privateprinciples, he kept them within the civil code; all that the law didnot forbid or could not prevent he considered right. He never readanything but the journal of the department of the Seine-et-Oise, and a few printed instructions relating to his business. He wasconsidered a clever agriculturist; but his knowledge was onlypractical. In him the moral being did not belie the physical. Heseldom spoke, and before speaking he always took a pinch of snuff togive himself time, not to find ideas, but words. If he had been atalker you would have felt that he was out of keeping with himself. Reflecting that this elephant minus a trumpet and without a mind wascalled Minoret-Levrault, we are compelled to agree with Sterne as tothe occult power of names, which sometimes ridicule and sometimesforetell characters. 

In spite of his visible incapacity he had acquired during the lastthirty-six years (the Revolution helping him) an income of thirtythousand francs, derived from farm lands, woods and meadows. IfMinoret, being master of the coach-lines of Nemours and those of theGatinais to Paris, still worked at his business, it was less fromhabit than for the sake of an only son, to whom he was anxious to givea fine career. This son, who was now (to use an expression of thepeasantry) a "monsieur, " had just completed his legal studies and wasabout to take his degree as licentiate, preparatory to being called tothe Bar. Monsieur and Madame Minoret-Levrault--for behind our colossusevery one will perceive a woman without whom this signal good-fortunewould have been impossible--left their son free to choose his owncareer; he might be a notary in Paris, king's-attorney in somedistrict, collector of customs no matter where, broker, or postmaster, as he pleased. What fancy of his could they ever refuse him?to what position of life might he not aspire as the son of a man aboutwhom the whole countryside, from Montargis to Essonne, was in thehabit of saying, "Pere Minoret doesn't even know how rich he is"?

This saying had obtained fresh force about four years before thishistory begins, when Minoret, after selling his inn, built stables anda splendid dwelling, and removed the post-house from the Grand'Rue tothe wharf. The new establishment cost two hundred thousand francs, which the gossip of thirty miles in circumference more than doubled. The Nemours mail-coach service requires a large number of horses. Itgoes to Fontainebleau on the road to Paris, and from there diverges toMontargis and also to Montereau. The relays are long, and the sandysoil of the Montargis road calls for the mythical third horse, alwayspaid for but never seen. A man of Minoret's build, and Minoret'swealth, at the head of such an establishment might well be called, without contradiction, the master of Nemours. Though he never thoughtof God or devil, being a practical materialist, just as he was apractical agriculturist, a practical egoist, and a practical miser, Minoret had enjoyed up to this time a life of unmixed happiness, --ifwe can call pure materialism happiness. A physiologist, observing therolls of flesh which covered the last vertebrae and pressed upon thegiant's cerebellum, and, above all, hearing the shrill, sharp voicewhich contrasted so absurdly with his huge body, would have understoodwhy this ponderous, coarse being adored his only son, and why he hadso long expected him, --a fact proved by the name, Desire, which wasgiven to the child. 

The mother, whom the boy fortunately resembled, rivaled the father inspoiling him. No child could long have resisted the effects of suchidolatry. As soon as Desire knew the extent of his power he milked hismother's coffer and dipped into his father's purse, making each authorof his being believe that he, or she, alone was petitioned. Desire, who played a part in Nemours far beyond that of a prince royal in hisfather's capital, chose to gratify his fancies in Paris just as he hadgratified them in his native town; he had therefore spent a yearly sumof not less than twelve thousand francs during the time of his legalstudies. But for that money he had certainly acquired ideas that wouldnever had come to him in Nemours; he had stripped off the provincialskin, learned the power of money and seen in the magistracy a means ofadvancement which he fancied. During the last year he had spent anextra sum of ten thousand francs in the company of artists, journalists, and their mistresses. A confidential and ratherdisquieting letter from his son, asking for his consent to a marriage, explains the watch which the post master was now keeping on thebridge; for Madame Minoret-Levrault, busy in preparing a sumptuousbreakfast to celebrate the triumphal return of the licentiate, hadsent her husband to the mail road, advising him to take a horse andride out if he saw nothing of the diligence. The coach which wasconveying the precious son usually arrived at five in the morning andit was now nine! What could be the meaning of such delay? Was thecoach overturned? Could Desire be dead? Or was it nothing worse than abroken leg?

Three distinct volleys of cracking whips rent the air like a dischargeof musketry; the red waistcoats of the postilions dawned in sight, tenhorses neighed. The master pulled off his cap and waved it; he wasseen. The best mounted postilion, who was returning with two graycarriage-horses, set spurs to his beast and came on in advance of thefive diligence horses and the three other carriage-horses, and soonreached his master. 

"Have you seen the 'Ducler'?"

On the great mail routes names, often fantastic, are given to thedifferent coaches; such, for instance, as the "Caillard, " the "Ducler"(the coach between Nemours and Paris), the "Grand Bureau. " Every newenterprise is called the "Competition. " In the days of the Lecomptecompany their coaches were called the "Countess. "--"'Caillard' couldnot overtake the 'Countess'; but 'Grand Bureau' caught up with herfinely, " you will hear the men say. If you see a postilion pressinghis horses and refusing a glass of wine, question the conductor and hewill tell you, snuffing the air while his eye gazes far into space, "The 'Competition' is ahead. "--"We can't get in sight of her, " criesthe postilion; "the vixen! she wouldn't stop to let her passengersdine. "--"The question is, has she got any?" responds the conductor. "Give it to Polignac!" All lazy and bad horses are called Polignac. Such are the jokes and the basis of conversation between postilionsand conductors on the roofs of the coaches. Each profession, eachcalling in France has its slang. 

"Have you seen the 'Ducler'?" asked Minoret. 

"Monsieur Desire?" said the postilion, interrupting his master. "Hey!you must have heard us, didn't our whips tell you? we felt you weresomewhere along the road. "

Just then a woman dressed in her Sunday clothes, --for the bells werepealing from the clock tower and calling the inhabitants to mass, --awoman about thirty-six years of age came up to the post master. 

"Well, cousin, " she said, "you wouldn't believe me-- Uncle is withUrsula in the Grand'Rue, and they are going to mass. "

In spite of the modern poetic canons as to local color, it is quiteimpossible to push realism so far as to repeat the horrible blasphemymingled with oaths which this news, apparently so unexciting, broughtfrom the huge mouth of Minoret-Levrault; his shrill voice grewsibilant, and his face took on the appearance of what people oddlyenough call a sunstroke. 

"Is that true?" he asked, after the first explosion of his wrath wasover. 

The postilions bowed to their master as they and their horses passedhim, but he seemed to neither see nor hear them. Instead of waitingfor his son, Minoret-Levrault hurried up to the Grand'Rue with hiscousin. 

"Didn't I always tell you so?" she resumed. "When Doctor Minoret goesout of his head that demure little hypocrite will drag him intoreligion; whoever lays hold of the mind gets hold of the purse, andshe'll have our inheritance. "

"But, Madame Massin--" said the post master, dumbfounded. 

"There now!" exclaimed Madame Massin, interrupting her cousin. "Youare going to say, just as Massin does, that a little girl of fifteencan't invent such plans and carry them out, or make an old man ofeighty-three, who has never set foot in a church except to be married, change his opinions, --now don't tell me he has such a horror ofpriests that he wouldn't even go with the girl to the parish churchwhen she made her first communion. I'd like to know why, if DoctorMinoret hates priests, he has spent nearly every evening for the lastfifteen years of his life with the Abbe Chaperon. The old hypocritenever fails to give Ursula twenty francs for wax tapers every time shetakes the sacrament. Have you forgotten the gift Ursula made to thechurch in gratitude to the cure for preparing her for her firstcommunion? She spent all her money on it, and her godfather returnedit to her doubled. You men! you don't pay attention to things. When Iheard that, I said to myself, 'Farewell baskets, the vintage is done!'A rich uncle doesn't behave that way to a little brat picked up in thestreets without some good reason. "

"Pooh, cousin; I dare say the good man is only taking her to the doorof the church, " replied the post master. "It is a fine day, and he isout for a walk. "

"I tell you he is holding a prayer-book, and looks sanctimonious--you'll see him. "

"They hide their game pretty well, " said Minoret, "La Bougival told methere was never any talk of religion between the doctor and the abbe. Besides, the abbe is one of the most honest men on the face of theglobe; he'd give the shirt off his back to a poor man; he is incapableof a base action, and to cheat a family out of their inheritance is--"

"Theft, " said Madame Massin. 

"Worse!" cried Minoret-Levrault, exasperated by the tongue of hisgossiping neighbour. 

"Of course I know, " said Madame Massin, "that the Abbe Chaperon is anhonest man; but he is capable of anything for the sake of his poor. Hemust have mined and undermined uncle, and the old man has just tumbledinto piety. We did nothing, and here he is perverted! A man who neverbelieved in anything, and had principles of his own! Well! we're donefor. My husband is absolutely beside himself. "

Madame Massin, whose sentences were so many arrows stinging her fatcousin, made him walk as fast as herself, in spite of his obesity andto the great astonishment of the church-goers, who were on their wayto mass. She was determined to overtake this uncle and show him to thepost master. 

Nemours is commanded on the Gatinais side by a hill, at the foot ofwhich runs the road to Montargis and the Loing. The church, on thestones of which time has cast a rich discolored mantle (it was rebuiltin the fourteenth century by the Guises, for whom Nemours was raisedto a peerage-duchy), stands at the end of the little town close to agreat arch which frames it. For buildings, as for men, position doeseverything. Shaded by a few trees, and thrown into relief by a neatlykept square, this solitary church produces a really grandiose effect. As the post master of Nemours entered the open space, he beheld hisuncle with the young girl called Ursula on his arm, both carryingprayer-books and just entering the church. The old man took off hishat in the porch, and his head, which was white as a hill-top coveredwith snow, shone among the shadows of the portal. 

"Well, Minoret, what do you say to the conversion of your uncle?"cried the tax-collector of Nemours, named Cremiere. 

"What do you expect me to say?" replied the post master, offering hima pinch of snuff. 

"Well answered, Pere Levrault. You can't say what you think, if it istrue, as an illustrious author says it is, that a man must think hiswords before he speaks his thoughts, " cried a young man, standingnear, who played the part of Mephistopheles in the little town. 

This ill-conditioned youth, named Goupil, was head clerk to MonsieurCremiere-Dionis, the Nemours notary. Notwithstanding a past conductthat was almost debauched, Dionis had taken Goupil into his officewhen a career in Paris--where the clerk had wasted all the money heinherited from his father, a well-to-do farmer, who educated him for anotary--was brought to a close by his absolute pauperism. The meresight of Goupil told an observer that he had made haste to enjoy life, and had paid dear for his enjoyments. Though very short, his chest andshoulders were developed at twenty-seven years of age like those of aman of forty. Legs small and weak, and a broad face, with a cloudycomplexion like the sky before a storm, surmounted by a bald forehead, brought out still further the oddity of his conformation. His faceseemed as though it belonged to a hunchback whose hunch was inside ofhim. One singularity of that pale and sour visage confirmed theimpression of an invisible gobbosity; the nose, crooked and out ofshape like those of many deformed persons, turned from right to leftof the face instead of dividing it down the middle. The mouth, contracted at the corners, like that of a Sardinian, was always on thequi vive of irony. His hair, thin and reddish, fell straight, andshowed the skull in many places. His hands, coarse and ill-joined atthe wrists to arms that were far too long, were quick-fingered andseldom clean. Goupil wore boots only fit for the dust-heap, and rawsilk stockings now of a russet black; his coat and trousers, allblack, and threadbare and greasy with dirt, his pitiful waistcoat withhalf the button-moulds gone, an old silk handkerchief which served asa cravat--in short, all his clothing revealed the cynical poverty towhich his passions had reduced him. This combination of disreputablesigns was guarded by a pair of eyes with yellow circles round thepupils, like those of a goat, both lascivious and cowardly. No one inNemours was more feared nor, in a way, more deferred to than Goupil. Strong in the claims made for him by his very ugliness, he had theodious style of wit peculiar to men who allow themselves all license, and he used it to gratify the bitterness of his life-long envy. Hewrote the satirical couplets sung during the carnival, organizedcharivaris, and was himself a "little journal" of the gossip of thetown. Dionis, who was clever and insincere, and for that reason timid, kept Goupil as much through fear as for his keen mind and thoroughknowledge of all the interests of the town. But the master sodistrusted his clerk that he himself kept the accounts, refused to lethim live in his house, held him at arm's length, and never confidedany secret or delicate affair to his keeping. In return the clerkfawned upon the notary, hiding his resentment at this conduct, andwatching Madame Dionis in the hope that he might get his revengethere. Gifted with a ready mind and quick comprehension he found workeasy. 

"You!" exclaimed the post master to the clerk, who stood rubbing hishands, "making game of our misfortunes already?"

As Goupil was known to have pandered to Dionis' passions for the lastfive years, the post master treated him cavalierly, without suspectingthe hoard of ill-feeling he was piling up in Goupil's heart with everyfresh insult. The clerk, convinced that money was more necessary tohim than it was to others, and knowing himself superior in mind to thewhole bourgeoisie of Nemours, was now counting on his intimacy withMinoret's son Desire to obtain the means of buying one or the other ofthree town offices, --that of clerk of the court, or the legal practiceof one of the sheriffs, or that of Dionis himself. For this reason heput up with the affronts of the post master and the contempt of MadameMinoret-Levrault, and played a contemptible part towards Desire, consoling the fair victims whom that youth left behind him after eachvacation, --devouring the crumbs of the loaves he had kneaded. 

"If I were the nephew of a rich old fellow, he never would have givenGod to ME for a co-heir, " retorted Goupil, with a hideous grin whichexhibited his teeth--few, black, and menacing. 

Just then Massin-Levrault, junior, the clerk of the court, joined hiswife, bringing with him Madame Cremiere, the wife of the tax-collectorof Nemours. This man, one of the hardest natures of the little town, had the physical characteristics of a Tartar: eyes small and round assloes beneath a retreating brow, crimped hair, an oily skin, huge earswithout any rim, a mouth almost without lips, and a scanty beard. Hespoke like a man who was losing his voice. To exhibit him thoroughlyit is enough to say that he employed his wife and eldest daughter toserve his legal notices. 

Madame Cremiere was a stout woman, with a fair complexion injured byred blotches, always too tightly laced, intimate with Madame Dionis, and supposed to be educated because she read novels. Full ofpretensions to wit and elegance, she was awaiting her uncle's money to"take a certain stand, " decorate her salon, and receive thebourgeoisie. At present her husband denied her Carcel lamps, lithographs, and all the other trifles the notary's wife possessed. She was excessively afraid of Goupil, who caught up and retailed her"slapsus-linquies" as she called them. One day Madame Dionis chancedto ask what "Eau" she thought best for the teeth. 

"Try opium, " she replied. 

Nearly all the collateral heirs of old Doctor Minoret were nowassembled in the square; the importance of the event which broughtthem was so generally felt that even groups of peasants, armed withtheir scarlet umbrellas and dressed in those brilliant colors whichmake them so picturesque on Sundays and fete-days, stood by, withtheir eyes fixed on the frightened heirs. In all little towns whichare midway between large villages and cities those who do not go tomass stand about in the square or market-place. Business is talkedover. In Nemours the hour of church service was a weekly exchange, towhich the owners of property scattered over a radius of some milesresorted. 

"Well, how would you have prevented it?" said the post master toGoupil in reply to his remark. 

"I should have made myself as important to him as the air he breathes. But from the very first you failed to get hold of him. The inheritanceof a rich uncle should be watched as carefully as a pretty woman--forwant of proper care they'll both escape you. If Madame Dionis werehere she could tell you how true that comparison is. "

"But Monsieur Bongrand has just told me there is nothing to worryabout, " said Massin. 

"Oh! there are plenty of ways of saying that!" cried Goupil, laughing. "I would like to have heard your sly justice of the peacesay it. If there is nothing to be done, if he, being intimate withyour uncle, knows that all is lost, the proper thing for him to say toyou is, 'Don't be worried. '"

As Goupil spoke, a satirical smile overspread his face, and gave suchmeaning to his words that the other heirs began to feel that Massinhad let Bongrand deceive him. The tax-collector, a fat little man, asinsignificant as a tax-collector should be, and as much of a cipher asa clever woman could wish, hereupon annihilated his co-heir, Massin, with the words:--"Didn't I tell you so?"

Tricky people always attribute trickiness to others. Massin thereforelooked askance at Monsieur Bongrand, the justice of the peace, who wasat that moment talking near the door of the church with the Marquis duRouvre, a former client. 

"If I were sure of it!" he said. 

"You could neutralize the protection he is now giving to the Marquisdu Rouvre, who is threatened with arrest. Don't you see how Bongrandis sprinkling him with advice?" said Goupil, slipping an idea ofretaliation into Massin's mind. "But you had better go easy with yourchief; he's a clever old fellow; he might use his influence with youruncle and persuade him not to leave everything to the church. "

"Pooh! we sha'n't die of it, " said Minoret-Levrault, opening hisenormous snuff-box. 

"You won't live of it, either, " said Goupil, making the two womentremble. More quick-witted than their husbands, they saw theprivations this loss of inheritance (so long counted on for manycomforts) would be to them. "However, " added Goupil, "we'll drown thislittle grief in floods of champagne in honor of Desire!--sha'n't we, old fellow?" he cried, tapping the stomach of the giant, and invitinghimself to the feast for fear he should be left out. 

 CHAPTER II

 THE RICH UNCLE

Before proceeding further, persons of an exact turn of mind may liketo read a species of family inventory, so as to understand the degreesof relationship which connected the old man thus suddenly converted toreligion with these three heads of families or their wives. Thiscross-breeding of families in the remote provinces might be made thesubject of many instructive reflections. 

There are but three or four houses of the lesser nobility in Nemours;among them, at the period of which we write, that of the family ofPortenduere was the most important. These exclusives visited none butnobles who possessed lands or chateaus in the neighbourhood; of thelatter we may mention the d'Aiglemonts, owners of the beautiful estateof Saint-Lange, and the Marquis du Rouvre, whose property, crippled bymortgages, was closely watched by the bourgeoisie. The nobles of thetown had no money. Madame de Portenduere's sole possessions were afarm which brought a rental of forty-seven hundred francs, and hertown house. 

In opposition to this very insignificant Faubourg St. Germain was agroup of a dozen rich families, those of retired millers, or formermerchants; in short a miniature bourgeoisie; below which, again, livedand moved the retail shopkeepers, the proletaries and the peasantry. The bourgeoisie presented (like that of the Swiss cantons and of othersmall countries) the curious spectacle of the ramifications of certainautochthonous families, old-fashioned and unpolished perhaps, but whorule a whole region and pervade it, until nearly all its inhabitantsare cousins. Under Louis XI. , an epoch at which the commons first madereal names of their surnames (some of which are united with those offeudalism) the bourgeoisie of Nemours was made up of Minorets, Massins, Levraults and Cremieres. Under Louis XIII. These fourfamilies had already produced the Massin-Cremieres, theLevrault-Massins, the Massin-Minorets, the Minoret-Minorets, theCremiere-Levraults, the Levrault-Minoret-Massins, Massin-Levraults, Minoret-Massins, Massin-Massins, and Cremiere-Massins, --all thesevaried with juniors and diversified with the names of eldest sons, asfor instance, Cremiere-Francois, Levrault-Jacques, Jean-Minoret--enoughto drive a Pere Anselme of the People frantic, --if the people shouldever want a genealogist. 

The variations of this family kaleidoscope of four branches was now socomplicated by births and marriages that the genealogical tree of thebourgeoisie of Nemours would have puzzled the Benedictines of theAlmanach of Gotha, in spite of the atomic science with which theyarrange those zigzags of German alliances. For a long time theMinorets occupied the tanneries, the Cremieres kept the mills, theMassins were in trade, and the Levraults continued farmers. Fortunately for the neighbourhood these four stocks threw out suckersinstead of depending only on their tap-roots; they scattered cuttingsby the expatriation of sons who sought their fortune elsewhere; forinstance, there are Minorets who are cutlers at Melun; Levraults atMontargis; Massins at Orleans; and Cremieres of some importance inParis. Divers are the destinies of these bees from the parent hive. Rich Massins employ, of course, the poor working Massins--just asAustria and Prussia take the German princes into their service. It mayhappen that a public office is managed by a Minoret millionaire andguarded by a Minoret sentinel. Full of the same blood and called bythe same name (for sole likeness), these four roots had ceaselesslywoven a human network of which each thread was delicate or strong, fine or coarse, as the case might be. The same blood was in the headand in the feet and in the heart, in the working hands, in the weaklylungs, in the forehead big with genius. 

The chiefs of the clan were faithful to the little town, where theties of family were relaxed or tightened according to the events whichhappened under this curious cognomenism. In whatever part of Franceyou may be, you will find the same thing under changed names, butwithout the poetic charm which feudalism gave to it, and which WalterScott's genius reproduced so faithfully. Let us look a little higherand examine humanity as it appears in history. All the noble familiesof the eleventh century, most of them (except the royal race of Capet)extinct to-day, will be found to have contributed to the birth of theRohans, Montmorencys, Beauffremonts, and Mortemarts of our time, --infact they will all be found in the blood of the last gentleman who isindeed a gentleman. In other words, every bourgeois is cousin to abourgeois, and every noble is cousin to a noble. A splendid page ofbiblical genealogy shows that in one thousand years three families, Shem, Ham, and Japhet, peopled the globe. One family may become anation; unfortunately, a nation may become one family. To prove thiswe need only search back through our ancestors and see theiraccumulation, which time increases into a retrograde geometricprogression, which multiplies of itself; reminding us of thecalculation of the wise man who, being told to choose a reward fromthe king of Persia for inventing chess, asked for one ear of wheat forthe first move on the board, the reward to be doubled for eachsucceeding move; when it was found that the kingdom was not largeenough to pay it. The net-work of the nobility, hemmed in by thenet-work of the bourgeoisie, --the antagonism of two protected races, one protected by fixed institutions, the other by the active patienceof labor and the shrewdness of commerce, --produced the revolution of1789. The two races almost reunited are to-day face to face withcollaterals without a heritage. What are they to do? Our politicalfuture is big with the answer. 

The family of the man who under Louis XV. Was simply called Minoretwas so numerous that one of the five children (the Minoret whoseentrance into the parish church caused such interest) went to Paris toseek his fortune, and seldom returned to his native town, until hecame to receive his share of the inheritance of his grandfather. Aftersuffering many things, like all young men of firm will who strugglefor a place in the brilliant world of Paris, this son of the Minoretsreached a nobler destiny than he had, perhaps, dreamed of at thestart. He devoted himself, in the first instance, to medicine, aprofession which demands both talent and a cheerful nature, but thelatter qualification even more than talent. Backed by Dupont deNemours, connected by a lucky chance with the Abbe Morellet (whomVoltaire nicknamed Mords-les), and protected by the Encyclopedists, Doctor Minoret attached himself as liegeman to the famous DoctorBordeu, the friend of Diderot, D'Alembert, Helvetius, the Barond'Holbach and Grimm, in whose presence he felt himself a mere boy. These men, influenced by Bordeu's example, became interested inMinoret, who, about the year 1777, found himself with a very goodpractice among deists, encyclopedists, sensualists, materialists, orwhatever you are pleased to call the rich philosophers of that period. 

Though Minoret was very little of a humbug, he invented the famousbalm of Lelievre, so much extolled by the "Mercure de France, " theweekly organ of the Encyclopedists, in whose columns it waspermanently advertised. The apothecary Lelievre, a clever man, saw astroke of business where Minoret had only seen a new preparation forthe dispensary, and he loyally shared his profits with the doctor, whowas a pupil of Rouelle in chemistry as well as of Bordeu in medicine. Less than that would make a man a materialist. 

The doctor married for love in 1778, during the reign of the "NouvelleHeloise, " when persons did occasionally marry for that reason. Hiswife was a daughter of the famous harpsichordist Valentin Mirouet, acelebrated musician, frail and delicate, whom the Revolution slew. Minoret knew Robespierre intimately, for he had once been instrumentalin awarding him a gold medal for a dissertation on the followingsubject: "What is the origin of the opinion that covers a whole familywith the shame attaching to the public punishment of a guilty memberof it? Is that opinion more harmful than useful? If yes, in what waycan the harm be warded off. " The Royal Academy of Arts and Sciences atMetz, to which Minoret belonged, must possess this dissertation in theoriginal. Though, thanks to this friendship, the Doctor's wife needhave had no fear, she was so in dread of going to the scaffold thather terror increased a disposition to heart disease caused by theover-sensitiveness of her nature. In spite of all the precautionstaken by the man who idolized her, Ursula unfortunately met thetumbril of victims among whom was Madame Roland, and the shock causedher death. Minoret, who in tenderness to his wife had refused hernothing, and had given her a life of luxury, found himself after herdeath almost a poor man. Robespierre gave him an appointment assurgeon-in-charge of a hospital. 

Though the name of Minoret obtained during the lively debates to whichmesmerism gave rise a certain celebrity which occasionally recalledhim to the minds of his relatives, still the Revolution was so great adestroyer of family relations that in 1813 Nemours knew little ofDoctor Minoret, who was induced to think of returning there to die, like the hare to its form, by a circumstance that was whollyaccidental. 

Who has not felt in traveling through France, where the eye is oftenwearied by the monotony of plains, the charming sensation of comingsuddenly, when the eye is prepared for a barren landscape, upon afresh cool valley, watered by a river, with a little town shelteringbeneath a cliff like a swarm of bees in the hollow of an old willow?Wakened by the "hu! hu!" of the postilion as he walks beside hishorses, we shake off sleep and admire, like a dream within a dream, the beautiful scene which is to the traveler what a noble passage in abook is to a reader, --a brilliant thought of Nature. Such is thesensation caused by a first sight of Nemours as we approach it fromBurgundy. We see it encircled with bare rocks, gray, black, white, fantastic in shape like those we find in the forest of Fontainebleau;from them spring scattered trees, clearly defined against the sky, which give to this particular rock formation the dilapidated look of acrumbling wall. Here ends the long wooded hill which creeps fromNemours to Bouron, skirting the road. At the bottom of this irregularampitheater lie meadow-lands through which flows the Loing, formingsheets of water with many falls. This delightful landscape, whichcontinues the whole way to Montargis, is like an opera scene, for itseffects really seem to have been studied. 

One morning Doctor Minoret, who had been summoned into Burgundy by arich patient, was returning in all haste to Paris. Not havingmentioned at the last relay the route he intended to take, he wasbrought without his knowledge through Nemours, and beheld once more, on waking from a nap, the scenery in which his childhood had beenpassed. He had lately lost many of his old friends. The votary of theEncyclopedists had witnessed the conversion of La Harpe; he had buriedLebrun-Pindare and Marie-Joseph de Chenier, and Morellet, and MadameHelvetius. He assisted at the quasi-fall of Voltaire when assailed byGeoffroy, the continuator of Freton. For some time past he had thoughtof retiring, and so, when his post chaise stopped at the head of theGrand'Rue of Nemours, his heart prompted him to inquire for hisfamily. Minoret-Levrault, the post master, came forward himself to seethe doctor, who discovered him to be the son of his eldest brother. The nephew presented the doctor to his wife, the only daughter of thelate Levrault-Cremiere, who had died twelve years earlier, leaving himthe post business and the finest inn in Nemours. 

"Well, nephew, " said the doctor, "have I any other relatives?"

"My aunt Minoret, your sister, married a Massin-Massin--"

"Yes, I know, the bailiff of Saint-Lange. "

"She died a widow leaving an only daughter, who has lately married aCremiere-Cremiere, a fine young fellow, still without a place. "

"Ah! she is my own niece. Now, as my brother, the sailor, died abachelor, and Captain Minoret was killed at Monte-Legino, and here Iam, that ends the paternal line. Have I any relations on the maternalside? My mother was a Jean-Massin-Levrault. "

"Of the Jean-Massin-Levrault's there's only one left, " answeredMinoret-Levrault, "namely, Jean-Massin, who married MonsieurCremiere-Levrault-Dionis, a purveyor of forage, who perished on thescaffold. His wife died of despair and without a penny, leaving onedaughter, married to a Levrault-Minoret, a farmer at Montereau, who isdoing well; their daughter has just married a Massin-Levrault, notary's clerk at Montargis, where his father is a locksmith. "

"So I've plenty of heirs, " said the doctor gayly, immediatelyproposing to take a walk through Nemours accompanied by his nephew. 

The Loing runs through the town in a waving line, banked by terracedgardens and neat houses, the aspect of which makes one fancy thathappiness must abide there sooner than elsewhere. When the doctorturned into the Rue des Bourgeois, Minoret-Levrault pointed out theproperty of Levrault-Levrault, a rich iron merchant in Paris who, hesaid, had just died. 

"The place is for sale, uncle, and a very pretty house it is; there'sa charming garden running down to the river. "

"Let us go in, " said the doctor, seeing, at the farther end of a smallpaved courtyard, a house standing between the walls of the twoneighbouring houses which were masked by clumps of trees andclimbing-plants. 

"It is built over a cellar, " said the doctor, going up the steps of ahigh portico adorned with vases of blue and white pottery in whichgeraniums were growing. 

Cut in two, like the majority of provincial houses, by a long passagewhich led from the courtyard to the garden, the house had only oneroom to the right, a salon lighted by four windows, two on thecourtyard and two on the garden; but Levrault-Levrault had used one ofthese windows to make an entrance to a long greenhouse built of brickwhich extended from the salon towards the river, ending in a horribleChinese pagoda. 

"Good! by building a roof to that greenhouse and laying a floor, " saidold Minoret, "I could put my book there and make a very comfortablestudy of that extraordinary bit of architecture at the end. "

On the other side of the passage, toward the garden, was thedining-room, decorated in imitation of black lacquer with green andgold flowers; this was separated from the kitchen by the well of thestaircase. Communication with the kitchen was had through a littlepantry built behind the staircase, the kitchen itself looking into thecourtyard through windows with iron railings. There were two chamberson the next floor, and above them, attic rooms sheathed in wood, whichwere fairly habitable. After examining the house rapidly, andobserving that it was covered with trellises from top to bottom, onthe side of the courtyard as well as on that to the garden, --whichended in a terrace overlooking the river and adorned with potteryvases, --the doctor remarked:--

"Levrault-Levrault must have spend a good deal of money here. "

"Ho! I should think so, " answered Minoret-Levrault. "He liked flowers--nonsense! 'What do they bring in?' says my wife. You saw insidethere how an artist came from Paris to paint flowers in fresco in thecorridor. He put those enormous mirrors everywhere. The ceilings wereall re-made with cornices which cost six francs a foot. Thedining-room floor is in marquetry--perfect folly! The house won't sellfor a penny the more. "

"Well, nephew, buy it for me: let me know what you do about it; here'smy address. The rest I leave to my notary. Who lives opposite?" heasked, as they left the house. 

"Emigres, " answered the post master, "named Portenduere. "

The house once bought, the illustrious doctor, instead of leavingthere, wrote to his nephew to let it. The Folie-Levraught wastherefore occupied by the notary of Nemours, who about that time soldhis practice to Dionis, his head-clerk, and died two years later, leaving the house on the doctor's hands, just at the time when thefate of Napoleon was being decided in the neighbourhood. The doctor'sheirs, at first misled, had by this time decided that his thought ofreturning to his native place was merely a rich man's fancy, and thatprobably he had some tie in Paris which would keep him there and cheatthem of their hoped-for inheritance. However, Minoret-Levrault's wifeseized the occasion to write him a letter. The old man replied that assoon as peace was signed, the roads cleared of soldiers, and safecommunications established, he meant to go and live at Nemours. Hedid, in fact, put in an appearance with two of his clients, thearchitect of his hospital and an upholsterer, who took charge of therepairs, the indoor arrangements, and the transportation of thefurniture. Madame Minoret-Levrault proposed the cook of the latenotary as caretaker, and the woman was accepted. 

When the heirs heard that their uncle and great-uncle Minoret wasreally coming to live in Nemours, they were seized (in spite of thepolitical events which were just then weighing so heavily on Brie andon the Gatinais) with a devouring curiosity, which was not surprising. Was he rich? Economical or spendthrift? Would he leave a fine fortuneor nothing? Was his property in annuities? In the end they found outwhat follows, but only by taking infinite pains and employing muchsubterraneous spying. 

After the death of his wife, Ursula Mirouet, and between the years1789 and 1813, the doctor (who had been appointed consulting physicianto the Emperor in 1805) must have made a good deal of money; but noone knew how much. He lived simply, without other extravagancies thana carriage by the year and a sumptuous apartment. He received noguests, and dined out almost every day. His housekeeper, furious atnot being allowed to go with him to Nemours, told Zelie Levrault, thepost master's wife, that she knew the doctor had fourteen thousandfrancs a year on the "grand-livre. " Now, after twenty years' exerciseof a profession which his position as head of a hospital, physician tothe Emperor, and member of the Institute, rendered lucrative, thesefourteen thousand francs a year showed only one hundred and sixtythousand francs laid by. To have saved only eight thousand francs ayear the doctor must have had either many vices or many virtues togratify. But neither his housekeeper nor Zelie nor any one else coulddiscover the reason for such moderate means. Minoret, who when he leftit was much regretted in the quarter of Paris where he had lived, wasone of the most benevolent of men, and, like Larrey, kept his kinddeeds a profound secret. 

The heirs watched the arrival of their uncle's fine furniture andlarge library with complacency, and looked forward to his own coming, he being now an officer of the Legion of honor, and lately appointedby the king a chevalier of the order of Saint-Michel--perhaps onaccount of his retirement, which left a vacancy for some favorite. Butwhen the architect and painter and upholsterer had arranged everythingin the most comfortable manner, the doctor did not come. MadameMinoret-Levrault, who kept an eye on the upholsterer and architect asif her own property was concerned, found out, through the indiscretionof a young man sent to arrange the books, that the doctor was takingcare of a little orphan named Ursula. The news flew like wild-firethrough the town. At last, however, towards the middle of the month ofJanuary, 1815, the old man actually arrived, installing himselfquietly, almost slyly, with a little girl about ten months old, and anurse. 

"The child can't be his daughter, " said the terrified heirs; "he isseventy-one years old. "

"Whoever she is, " remarked Madame Massin, "she'll give us plenty oftintouin" (a word peculiar to Nemours, meaning uneasiness, anxiety, ormore literally, tingling in the ears). 

The doctor received his great-niece on the mother's side somewhatcoldly; her husband had just bought the place of clerk of the court, and the pair began at once to tell him of their difficulties. NeitherMassin nor his wife were rich. Massin's father, a locksmith atMontargis, had been obliged to compromise with his creditors, and wasnow, at sixty-seven years of age, working like a young man, and hadnothing to leave behind him. Madame Massin's father, Levrault-Minoret, had just died at Montereau after the battle, in despair at seeing hisfarm burned, his fields ruined, his cattle slaughtered. 

"We'll get nothing out of your great-uncle, " said Massin to his wife, now pregnant with her second child, after the interview. 

The doctor, however, gave them privately ten thousand francs, withwhich Massin, who was a great friend of the notary and of the sheriff, began the business of money-lending, and carried matters so brisklywith the peasantry that by the time of which we are now writing Goupilknew him to hold at least eighty thousand francs on their property. 

As to his other niece, the doctor obtained for her husband, throughhis influence in Paris, the collectorship of Nemours, and became hisbondsman. Though Minoret-Levrault needed no assistance, Zelie, hiswife, being jealous of the uncle's liberality to his two nieces, tookher ten-year old son to see him, and talked of the expense he would beto them at a school in Paris, where, she said, education costs somuch. The doctor obtained a half-scholarship for his great-nephew atthe school of Louis-le-Grand, where Desire was put into the fourthclass. 

Cremiere, Massin, and Minoret-Levrault, extremely common persons, were"rated without appeal" by the doctor within two months of his arrivalin Nemours, during which time they courted, less their uncle than hisproperty. Persons who are led by instinct have one great disadvantageagainst others with ideas. They are quickly found out; the suggestionsof instinct are too natural, too open to the eye not to be seen at aglance; whereas, the conceptions of the mind require an equal amountof intellect to discover them. After buying the gratitude of hisheirs, and thus, as it were, shutting their mouths, the wily doctormade a pretext of his occupations, his habits, and the care of thelittle Ursula to avoid receiving his relatives without exactly closinghis doors to them. He liked to dine alone; he went to bed late and hegot up late; he had returned to his native place for the very purposeof finding rest in solitude. These whims of an old man seemed to benatural, and his relatives contented themselves with paying him weeklyvisits on Sundays from one to four o'clock, to which, however, hetried to put a stop by saying: "Don't come and see me unless you wantsomething. "

The doctor, while not refusing to be called in consultation overserious cases, especially if the patients were indigent, would notserve as a physician in the little hospital of Nemours, and declaredthat he no longer practiced his profession. 

"I've killed enough people, " he said, laughing, to the Abbe Chaperon, who, knowing his benevolence, would often get him to attend the poor. 

"He's an original!" These words, said of Doctor Minoret, were theharmless revenge of various wounded vanities; for a doctor collectsabout him a society of persons who have many of the characteristics ofa set of heirs. Those of the bourgeoisie who thought themselvesentitled to visit this distinguished physician kept up a ferment ofjealousy against the few privileged friends whom he did admit to hisintimacy, which had in the long run some unfortunate results. 

 CHAPTER III

 THE DOCTOR'S FRIENDS

Curiously enough, though it explains the old proverb that "extremesmeet, " the materialistic doctor and the cure of Nemours were soonfriends. The old man loved backgammon, a favorite game of thepriesthood, and the Abbe Chaperon played it with about as much skillas he himself. The game was the first tie between them. Then Minoretwas charitable, and the abbe was the Fenelon of the Gatinais. Both hadhad a wide and varied education; the man of God was the only person inall Nemours who was fully capable of understanding the atheist. To beable to argue, men must first understand each other. What pleasure isthere in saying sharp words to one who can't feel them? The doctor andthe priest had far too much taste and had seen too much of goodsociety not to practice its precepts; they were thus well-fitted forthe little warfare so essential to conversation. They hated eachother's opinions, but they valued each other's character. If suchconflicts and such sympathies are not true elements of intimacy wemust surely despair of society, which, especially in France, requiressome form of antagonism. It is from the shock of characters, and notfrom the struggle of opinions, that antipathies are generated. 

The Abbe Chaperon became, therefore, the doctor's chief friend. Thisexcellent ecclesiastic, then sixty years of age, had been curate ofNemours ever since the re-establishment of Catholic worship. Out ofattachment to his flock he had refused the vicariat of the diocese. Ifthose who were indifferent to religion thought well of him for sodoing, the faithful loved him the more for it. So, revered by hissheep, respected by the inhabitants at large, the abbe did goodwithout inquiring into the religious opinions of those he benefited. His parsonage, with scarcely furniture enough for the common needs oflife, was cold and shabby, like the lodging of a miser. Charity andavarice manifest themselves in the same way; charity lays up atreasure in heaven which avarice lays up on earth. The Abbe Chaperonargued with his servant over expenses even more sharply than Gobseckwith his--if indeed that famous Jew kept a servant at all. The goodpriest often sold the buckles off his shoes and his breeches to givetheir value to some poor person who appealed to him at a moment whenhe had not a penny. When he was seen coming out of church with thestraps of his breeches tied into the button-holes, devout women wouldredeem the buckles from the clock-maker and jeweler of the town andreturn them to their pastor with a lecture. He never bought himselfany clothes or linen, and wore his garments till they scarcely heldtogether. His linen, thick with darns, rubbed his skin like a hairshirt. Madame de Portenduere, and other good souls, had an agreementwith his housekeeper to replace the old clothes with new ones after hewent to sleep, and the abbe did not always find out the difference. Heate his food off pewter with iron forks and spoons. When he receivedhis assistants and sub-curates on days of high solemnity (an expenseobligatory on the heads of parishes) he borrowed linen and silver fromhis friend the atheist. 

"My silver is his salvation, " the doctor would say. 

These noble deeds, always accompanied by spiritual encouragement, weredone with a beautiful naivete. Such a life was all the moremeritorious because the abbe was possessed of an erudition that wasvast and varied, and of great and precious faculties. Delicacy andgrace, the inseparable accompaniments of simplicity, lent charm to anelocution that was worthy of a prelate. His manners, his character, and his habits gave to his intercourse with others the most exquisitesavor of all that is most spiritual, most sincere in the human mind. Alover of gayety, he was never priest in a salon. Until DoctorMinoret's arrival, the good man kept his light under a bushel withoutregret. Owning a rather fine library and an income of two thousandfrancs when he came to Nemours, he now possessed, in 1829, nothing atall, except his stipend as parish priest, nearly the whole of which hegave away during the year. The giver of excellent counsel in delicatematters or in great misfortunes, many persons who never went to churchto obtain consolation went to the parsonage to get advice. One littleanecdote will suffice to complete his portrait. Sometimes thepeasants, --rarely, it is true, but occasionally, --unprincipled men, would tell him they were sued for debt, or would get themselvesthreatened fictitiously to stimulate the abbe's benevolence. Theywould even deceive their wives, who, believing their chattels werethreatened with an execution and their cows seized, deceived in theirturn the poor priest with their innocent tears. He would then managewith great difficulty to provide the seven or eight hundred francsdemanded of him--with which the peasant bought himself a morsel ofland. When pious persons and vestrymen denounced the fraud, beggingthe abbe to consult them in future before lending himself to suchcupidity, he would say:--

"But suppose they had done something wrong to obtain their bit ofland? Isn't it doing good when we prevent evil?"

Some persons may wish for a sketch of this figure, remarkable for thefact that science and literature had filled the heart and passedthrough the strong head without corrupting either. At sixty years ofage the abbe's hair was white as snow, so keenly did he feel thesorrows of others, and so heavily had the events of the Revolutionweighed upon him. Twice incarcerated for refusing to take the oath hehad twice, as he used to say, uttered in "In manus. " He was of mediumheight, neither stout nor thin. His face, much wrinkled and hollowedand quite colorless, attracted immediate attention by the absolutetranquillity expressed in its shape, and by the purity of its outline, which seemed to be edged with light. The face of a chaste man has anunspeakable radiance. Brown eyes with lively pupils brightened theirregular features, which were surmounted by a broad forehead. Hisglance wielded a power which came of a gentleness that was not devoidof strength. The arches of his brow formed caverns shaded by huge grayeyebrows which alarmed no one. As most of his teeth were gone hismouth had lost its shape and his cheeks had fallen in; but thisphysical destruction was not without charm; even the wrinkles, full ofpleasantness, seemed to smile on others. Without being gouty his feetwere tender; and he walked with so much difficulty that he wore shoesmade of calf's skin all the year round. He thought the fashion oftrousers unsuitable for priests, and he always appeared in stockingsof coarse black yarn, knit by his housekeeper, and cloth breeches. Henever went out in his cassock, but wore a brown overcoat, and stillretained the three-cornered hat he had worn so courageously in timesof danger. This noble and beautiful old man, whose face was glorifiedby the serenity of a soul above reproach, will be found to have sogreat an influence upon the men and things of this history, that itwas proper to show the sources of his authority and power. 

Minoret took three newspapers, --one liberal, one ministerial, oneultra, --a few periodicals, and certain scientific journals, theaccumulation of which swelled his library. The newspapers, encyclopaedias, and books were an attraction to a retired captain ofthe Royal-Swedish regiment, named Monsieur de Jordy, a Voltaireannobleman and an old bachelor, who lived on sixteen hundred francs ofpension and annuity combined. Having read the gazettes for severaldays, by favor of the abbe, Monsieur de Jordy thought it proper tocall and thank the doctor in person. At this first visit the oldcaptain, formerly a professor at the Military Academy, won thedoctor's heart, who returned the call with alacrity. Monsieur deJordy, a spare little man much troubled by his blood, though his facewas very pale, attracted attention by the resemblance of his handsomebrow to that of Charles XII. ; above it he kept his hair cropped short, like that of the soldier-king. His blue eyes seemed to say that "Lovehad passed that way, " so mournful were they; revealing memories aboutwhich he kept such utter silence that his old friends never detectedeven an allusion to his past life, nor a single exclamation drawnforth by similarity of circumstances. He hid the painful mystery ofhis past beneath a philosophic gayety, but when he thought himselfalone his motions, stiffened by a slowness which was more a matter ofchoice than the result of old age, betrayed the constant presence ofdistressful thoughts. The Abbe Chaperon called him a Christianignorant of his Christianity. Dressed always in blue cloth, his ratherrigid demeanor and his clothes bespoke the old habits of militarydiscipline. His sweet and harmonious voice stirred the soul. Hisbeautiful hands and the general cut of his figure, recalling that ofthe Comte d'Artois, showed how charming he must have been in hisyouth, and made the mystery of his life still more mysterious. Anobserver asked involuntarily what misfortune had blighted such beauty, courage, grace, accomplishment, and all the precious qualities of theheart once united in his person. Monsieur de Jordy shuddered ifRobespierre's name were uttered before him. He took much snuff, but, strange to say, he gave up the habit to please little Ursula, who atfirst showed a dislike to him on that account. As soon as he saw thelittle girl the captain fastened his eyes upon her with a look thatwas almost passionate. He loved her play so extravagantly and tooksuch interest in all she did that the tie between himself and thedoctor grew closer every day, though the latter never dared to say tohim, "You, too, have you lost children?" There are beings, kind andpatient as old Jordy, who pass through life with a bitter thought intheir heart and a tender but sorrowful smile on their lips, carryingwith them to the grave the secret of their lives; letting no one guessit, --through pride, through disdain, possibly through revenge;confiding in none but God, without other consolation than his. 

Monsieur de Jordy, like the doctor, had come to die in Nemours, but heknew no one except the abbe, who was always at the beck and call ofhis parishioners, and Madame de Portenduere, who went to bed at nineo'clock. So, much against his will, he too had taken to going to bedearly, in spite of the thorns that beset his pillow. It was thereforea great piece of good fortune for him (as well as for the doctor) whenhe encountered a man who had known the same world and spoken the samelanguage as himself; with whom he could exchange ideas, and who wentto bed late. After Monsieur de Jordy, the Abbe Chaperon, and Minorethad passed one evening together they found so much pleasure in it thatthe priest and soldier returned every night regularly at nine o'clock, the hour at which, little Ursula having gone to bed, the doctor wasfree. All three would then sit up till midnight or one o'clock. 

After a time this trio became a quartette. Another man to whom lifewas known, and who owed to his practical training as a lawyer, theindulgence, knowledge, observation, shrewdness, and talent forconversation which the soldier, doctor, and priest owed to theirpractical dealings with the souls, diseases, and education of men, wasadded to the number. Monsieur Bongrand, the justice of peace, heard ofthe pleasure of these evenings and sought admittance to the doctor'ssociety. Before becoming justice of peace at Nemours he had been forten years a solicitor at Melun, where he conducted his own cases, according to the custom of small towns, where there are no barristers. He became a widower at forty-five years of age, but felt himself stilltoo active to lead an idle life; he therefore sought and obtained theposition of justice of peace at Nemours, which became vacant a fewmonths before the arrival of Doctor Minoret. Monsieur Bongrand livedmodestly on his salary of fifteen hundred francs, in order that hemight devote his private income to his son, who was studying law inParis under the famous Derville. He bore some resemblance to a retiredchief of a civil service office; he had the peculiar face of abureaucrat, less sallow than pallid, on which public business, vexations, and disgust leave their imprint, --a face lined by thought, and also by the continual restraints familiar to those who are trainednot to speak their minds freely. It was often illumined by smilescharacteristic of men who alternately believe all and believe nothing, who are accustomed to see and hear all without being startled, and tofathom the abysses which self-interest hollows in the depths of thehuman heart. 

Below the hair, which was less white than discolored, and wornflattened to the head, was a fine, sagacious forehead, the yellowtones of which harmonized well with the scanty tufts of thin hair. Hisface, with the features set close together, bore some likeness to thatof a fox, all the more because his nose was short and pointed. Inspeaking, he spluttered at the mouth, which was broad like that ofmost great talkers, --a habit which led Goupil to say, ill-naturedly, "An umbrella would be useful when listening to him, " or, "The justicerains verdicts. " His eyes looked keen behind his spectacles, but if hetook the glasses off his dulled glance seemed almost vacant. Though hewas naturally gay, even jovial, he was apt to give himself tooimportant and pompous an air. He usually kept his hands in the pocketsof his trousers, and only took them out to settle his eye-glasses onhis nose, with a movement that was half comic, and which announced thecoming of a keen observation or some victorious argument. Hisgestures, his loquacity, his innocent self-assertion, proclaimed theprovincial lawyer. These slight defects were, however, superficial; heredeemed them by an exquisite kind-heartedness which a rigid moralistmight call the indulgence natural to superiority. He looked a littlelike a fox, and he was thought to be very wily, but never false ordishonest. His wiliness was perspicacity; and consisted in foreseeingresults and protecting himself and others from the traps set for them. He loved whist, a game known to the captain and the doctor, and whichthe abbe learned to play in a very short time. 

This little circle of friends made for itself an oasis in Mironet'ssalon. The doctor of Nemours, who was not without education andknowledge of the world, and who greatly respected Minoret as an honorto the profession, came there sometimes; but his duties and also hisfatigue (which obliged him to go to bed early and to be up early)prevented his being as assiduously present as the three other friends. This intercourse of five superior men, the only ones in Nemours whohad sufficiently wide knowledge to understand each other, explains oldMinoret's aversion to his relatives; if he were compelled to leavethem his money, at least he need not admit them to his society. Whether the post master, the sheriff, and the collector understoodthis distinction, or whether they were reassured by the evidentloyalty and benefactions of their uncle, certain it is that theyceased, to his great satisfaction, to see much of him. So, about eightmonths after the arrival of the doctor these four players of whist andbackgammon made a solid and exclusive little world which was to each afraternal aftermath, an unlooked for fine season, the gentle pleasuresof which were the more enjoyed. This little circle of choice spiritsclosed round Ursula, a child whom each adopted according to hisindividual tendencies; the abbe thought of her soul, the judgeimagined himself her guardian, the soldier intended to be her teacher, and as for Minoret, he was father, mother, and physician, all in one. 

After he became acclimated old Minoret settled into certain habits oflife, under fixed rules, after the manner of the provinces. OnUrsula's account he received no visitors in the morning, and nevergave dinners, but his friends were at liberty to come to his house atsix o'clock and stay till midnight. The first-comers found thenewspapers on the table and read them while awaiting the rest; or theysometimes sallied forth to meet the doctor if he were out for a walk. This tranquil life was not a mere necessity of old age, it was thewise and careful scheme of a man of the world to keep his happinessuntroubled by the curiosity of his heirs and the gossip of a littletown. He yielded nothing to that capricious goddess, public opinion, whose tyranny (one of the present great evils of France) was justbeginning to establish its power and to make the whole nation a mereprovince. So, as soon as the child was weaned and could walk alone, the doctor sent away the housekeeper whom his niece, MadameMinoret-Levrault had chosen for him, having discovered that she toldher patroness everything that happened in his household. 

Ursula's nurse, the widow of a poor workman (who possessed no name buta baptismal one, and who came from Bougival) had lost her last child, aged six months, just as the doctor, who knew her to be a good andhonest creature, engaged her as wetnurse for Ursula. Antoinette Patris(her maiden name), widow of Pierre, called Le Bougival, attachedherself naturally to Ursula, as wetmaids do to their nurslings. Thisblind maternal affection was accompanied in this instance by householddevotion. Told of the doctor's intention to send away his housekeeper, La Bougival secretly learned to cook, became neat and handy, anddiscovered the old man's ways. She took the utmost care of the houseand furniture; in short she was indefatigable. Not only did the doctorwish to keep his private life within four walls, as the saying is, buthe also had certain reasons for hiding a knowledge of his businessaffairs from his relatives. At the end of the second year after hisarrival La Bougival was the only servant in the house; on herdiscretion he knew he could count, and he disguised his real purposesby the all-powerful open reason of a necessary economy. To the greatsatisfaction of his heirs he became a miser. Without fawning orwheedling, solely by the influence of her devotion and solicitude, LaBougival, who was forty-three years old at the time this tale begins, was the housekeeper of the doctor and his protegee, the pivot on whichthe whole house turned, in short, the confidential servant. She wascalled La Bougival from the admitted impossibility of applying to herperson the name that actually belonged to her, Antoinette--for namesand forms do obey the laws of harmony. 

The doctor's miserliness was not mere talk; it was real, and it had anobject. From the year 1817 he cut off two of his newspapers and ceasedsubscribing to periodicals. His annual expenses, which all Nemourscould estimate, did not exceed eighteen hundred francs a year. Likemost old men his wants in linen, boots, and clothing, were very few. Every six months he went to Paris, no doubt to draw and reinvest hisincome. In fifteen years he never said a single word to any one inrelation to his affairs. His confidence in Bongrand was of slowgrowth; it was not until after the revolution of 1830 that he told himof his projects. Nothing further was known of the doctor's life eitherby the bourgeoisie at large or by his heirs. As for his politicalopinions, he did not meddle in public matters seeing that he paid lessthan a hundred francs a year in taxes, and refused, impartially, tosubscribe to either royalist or liberal demands. His known horror forthe priesthood, and his deism were so little obtrusive that he turnedout of his house a commercial runner sent by his great-nephew Desireto ask a subscription to the "Cure Meslier" and the "Discours duGeneral Foy. " Such tolerance seemed inexplicable to the liberals ofNemours. 

The doctor's three collateral heirs, Minoret-Levrault and his wife, Monsieur and Madame Massin-Levrault, junior, Monsieur and MadameCremiere-Cremiere--whom we shall in future call simply Cremiere, Massin, and Minoret, because these distinctions among homonyms isquite unnecessary out of the Gatinais--met together as people do inlittle towns. The post master gave a grand dinner on his son'sbirthday, a ball during the carnival, another on the anniversary ofhis marriage, to all of which he invited the whole bourgeoisie ofNemours. The collector received his relations and friends twice ayear. The clerk of the court, too poor, he said, to fling himself intosuch extravagance, lived in a small way in a house standing half-waydown the Grand'Rue, the ground-floor of which was let to his sister, the letter-postmistress of Nemours, a situation she owed to thedoctor's kind offices. Nevertheless, in the course of the year thesethree families did meet together frequently, in the houses of friends, in the public promenades, at the market, on their doorsteps, or, of aSunday in the square, as on this occasion; so that one way and anotherthey met nearly every day. For the last three years the doctor's age, his economies, and his probable wealth had led to allusions, or frankremarks, among the townspeople as to the disposition of his property, a topic which made the doctor and his heirs of deep interest to thelittle town. For the last six months not a day passed that friends andneighbours did not speak to the heirs, with secret envy, of the daythe good man's eyes would shut and the coffers open. 

"Doctor Minoret may be an able physician, on good terms with death, but none but God is eternal, " said one. 

"Pooh, he'll bury us all; his health is better than ours, " replied anheir, hypocritically. 

"Well, if you don't get the money yourselves, your children will, unless that little Ursula--"

"He won't leave it all to her. "

Ursula, as Madame Massin had predicted, was the bete noire of therelations, their sword of Damocles; and Madame Cremiere's favoritesaying, "Well, whoever lives will know, " shows that they wished at anyrate more harm to her than good. 

The collector and the clerk of the court, poor in comparison with thepost master, had often estimated, by way of conversation, the doctor'sproperty. If they met their uncle walking on the banks of the canal oralong the road they would look at each other piteously. 

"He must have got hold of some elixir of life, " said one. 

"He has made a bargain with the devil, " replied the other. 

"He ought to give us the bulk of it; that fat Minoret doesn't needanything, " said Massin. 

"Ah! but Minoret has a son who'll waste his substance, " answeredCremiere. 

"How much do you really think the doctor has?"

"At the end of twelve years, say twelve thousand francs saved eachyear, that would give one hundred and forty-four thousand francs, andthe interest brings in at least one hundred thousand more. But as hemust, if he consults a notary in Paris, have made some good strokes ofbusiness, and we know that up to 1822 he could get seven or eight percent from the State, he must now have at least four hundred thousandfrancs, without counting the capital of his fourteen thousand a yearfrom the five per cents. If he were to die to-morrow without leavinganything to Ursula we should get at least seven or eight hundredthousand francs, besides the house and furniture. "

"Well, a hundred thousand to Minoret, and three hundred thousandapiece to you and me, that would be fair. "

"Ha, that would make us comfortable!"

"If he did that, " said Massin, "I should sell my situation in courtand buy an estate; I'd try to be judge at Fontainebleau, and getmyself elected deputy. "

"As for me I should buy a brokerage business, " said the collector. 

"Unluckily, that girl he has on his arm and the abbe have got roundhim. I don't believe we can do anything with him. "

"Still, we know very well he will never leave anything to the Church. "

 CHAPTER IV

 ZELIE

The fright of the heirs at beholding their uncle on his way to masswill now be understood. The dullest persons have mind enough toforesee a danger to self-interests. Self-interest constitutes the mindof the peasant as well as that of the diplomatist, and on that groundthe stupidest of men is sometimes the most powerful. So the fatalreasoning, "If that little Ursula has influence enough to drag hergodfather into the pale of the Church she will certainly have enoughto make him leave her his property, " was now stamped in letters offire on the brains of the most obtuse heir. The post master hadforgotten about his son in his hurry to reach the square; for if thedoctor were really in the church hearing mass it was a question oflosing two hundred and fifty thousand francs. It must be admitted thatthe fears of these relations came from the strongest and mostlegitimate of social feelings, family interests. 

"Well, Monsieur Minoret, " said the mayor (formerly a miller who hadnow become royalist, named Levrault-Cremiere), "when the devil getsold the devil a monk would be. Your uncle, they say, is one of us. "

"Better late than never, cousin, " responded the post master, trying toconceal his annoyance. 

"How that fellow will grin if we are defrauded! He is capable ofmarrying his son to that damned girl--may the devil get her!" criedCremiere, shaking his fists at the mayor as he entered the porch. 

"What's Cremiere grumbling about?" said the butcher of the town, aLevrault-Levrault the elder. "Isn't he pleased to see his uncle on theroad to paradise?"

"Who would ever have believed it!" ejaculated Massin. 

"Ha! one should never say, 'Fountain, I'll not drink of your water, '"remarked the notary, who, seeing the group from afar, had left hiswife to go to church without him. 

"Come, Monsieur Dionis, " said Cremiere, taking the notary by the arm, "what do you advise me to do under the circumstances?"

"I advise you, " said the notary, addressing the heirs collectively, "to go to bed and get up at your usual hour; to eat your soup beforeit gets cold; to put your feet in your shoes and your hats on yourheads; in short, to continue your ways of life precisely as if nothinghad happened. "

"You are not consoling, " said Massin. 

In spite of his squat, dumpy figure and heavy face, Cremiere-Dioniswas really as keen as a blade. In pursuit of usurious fortune he didbusiness secretly with Massin, to whom he no doubt pointed out suchpeasants as were hampered in means, and such pieces of land as couldbe bought for a song. The two men were in a position to choose theiropportunities; none that were good escaped them, and they shared theprofits of mortgage-usury, which retards, though it does not prevent, the acquirement of the soil by the peasantry. So Dionis took a livelyinterest in the doctor's inheritance, not so much for the post masterand the collector as for his friend the clerk of the court; sooner orlater Massin's share in the doctor's money would swell the capitalwith which these secret associates worked the canton. 

"We must try to find out through Monsieur Bongrand where the influencecomes from, " said the notary in a low voice, with a sign to Massin tokeep quiet. 

"What are you about, Minoret?" cried a little woman, suddenlydescending upon the group in the middle of which stood the postmaster, as tall and round as a tower. "You don't know where Desire isand there you are, planted on your two legs, gossiping about nothing, when I thought you on horseback!--Oh, good morning, Messieurs andMesdames. "

This little woman, thin, pale, and fair, dressed in a gown of whitecotton with pattern of large, chocolate-colored flowers, a cap trimmedwith ribbon and frilled with lace, and wearing a small green shawl onher flat shoulders, was Minoret's wife, the terror of postilions, servants, and carters; who kept the accounts and managed theestablishment "with finger and eye" as they say in those parts. Likethe true housekeeper that she was, she wore no ornaments. She did notgive in (to use her own expression) to gew-gaws and trumpery; she heldto the solid and the substantial, and wore, even on Sundays, a blackapron, in the pocket of which she jingled her household keys. Herscreeching voice was agony to the drums of all ears. Her rigid glance, conflicting with the soft blue of her eyes, was in visible harmonywith the thin lips of a pinched mouth and a high, projecting, and veryimperious forehead. Sharp was the glance, sharper still both gestureand speech. "Zelie being obliged to have a will for two, had it forthree, " said Goupil, who pointed out the successive reigns of threeyoung postilions, of neat appearance, who had been set up in life byZelie, each after seven years' service. The malicious clerk named themPostilion I. , Postilion II. , Postilion III. But the little influencethese young men had in the establishment, and their perfect obedienceproved that Zelie was merely interested in worthy helpers. 

This attempt at scandal was against probabilities. Since the birth ofher son (nursed by her without any evidence of how it was possible forher to do so) Madame Minoret had thought only of increasing the familyfortune and was wholly given up to the management of their immenseestablishment. To steal a bale of hay or a bushel of oats or get thebetter of Zelie in even the most complicated accounts was a thingimpossible, though she scribbled hardly better than a cat, and knewnothing of arithmetic but addition and subtraction. She never took awalk except to look at the hay, the oats, or the second crops. Shesent "her man" to the mowing, and the postilions to tie the bales, telling them the quantity, within a hundred pounds, each field shouldbear. Though she was the soul of that great body called Minoret-Levraultand led him about by his pug nose, she was made to feel the fears whichoccasionally (we are told) assail all tamers of wild beasts. Shetherefore made it a rule to get into a rage before he did; thepostilions knew very well when his wife had been quarreling with him, for his anger ricocheted on them. Madame Minoret was as clever as shewas grasping; and it was a favorite remark in the whole town, "Wherewould Minoret-Levrault be without his wife?"

"When you know what has happened, " replied the post master, "you'll beover the traces yourself. "

"What is it?"

"Ursula has taken the doctor to mass. "

Zelie's pupils dilated; she stood for a moment yellow with anger, then, crying out, "I'll see it before I believe it!" she rushed intothe church. The service had reached the Elevation. The stillness ofthe worshippers enabled her to look along each row of chairs andbenches as she went up the aisle beside the chapels to Ursula's place, where she saw old Minoret standing with bared head. 

If you recall the heads of Barbe-Marbois, Boissy d'Anglas, Morellet, Helvetius, or Frederick the Great, you will see the exact image ofDoctor Minoret, whose green old age resembled that of those celebratedpersonages. Their heads coined in the same mint (for each had thecharacteristics of a medal) showed a stern and quasi-puritan profile, cold tones, a mathematical brain, a certain narrowness about thefeatures, shrewd eyes, grave lips, and a something that was surelyaristocratic--less perhaps in sentiment than in habit, more in theideas than in the character. All men of this stamp have high browsretreating at the summit, the sigh of a tendency to materialism. Youwill find these leading characteristics of the head and these pointsof the face in all the Encyclopedists, in the orators of the Gironde, in the men of a period when religious ideas were almost dead, men whocalled themselves deists and were atheists. The deist is an atheistlucky in classification. 

Minoret had a forehead of this description, furrowed with wrinkles, which recovered in his old age a sort of artless candor from themanner in which the silvery hair, brushed back like that of a womanwhen making her toilet, curled in light flakes upon the blackness ofhis coat. He persisted in dressing, as in his youth, in black silkstockings, shoes with gold buckles, breeches of black poult-de-soie, and a black coat, adorned with the red rosette. This head, so firmlycharacterized, the cold whiteness of which was softened by theyellowing tones of old age, happened to be, just then, in the fulllight of a window. As Madame Minoret came in sight of him the doctor'sblue eyes with their reddened lids were raised to heaven; a newconviction had given them a new expression. His spectacles lay in hisprayer-book and marked the place where he had ceased to pray. The talland spare old man, his arms crossed on his breast, stood erect in anattitude which bespoke the full strength of his faculties and theunshakable assurance of his faith. He gazed at the altar humbly with alook of renewed hope, and took no notice of his nephew's wife, whoplanted herself almost in front of him as if to reproach him forcoming back to God. 

Zelie, seeing all eyes turned upon her, made haste to leave the churchand returned to the square less hurriedly than she had left it. Shehad reckoned on the doctor's money, and possession was becomingproblematical. She found the clerk of the court, the collector, andtheir wives in greater consternation than ever. Goupil was takingpleasure in tormenting them. 

"It is not in the public square and before the whole town that weought to talk of our affairs, " said Zelie; "come home with me. Youtoo, Monsieur Dionis, " she added to the notary; "you'll not be in theway. "

Thus the probable disinheritance of Massin, Cremiere, and the postmaster was the news of the day. 

Just as the heirs and the notary were crossing the square to go to thepost house the noise of the diligence rattling up to the office, whichwas only a few steps from the church, at the top of the Grand'Rue, made its usual racket. 

"Goodness! I'm like you, Minoret; I forgot all about Desire, " saidZelie. "Let us go and see him get down. He is almost a lawyer; and hisinterests are mixed up in this matter. "

The arrival of the diligence is always an amusement, but when it comesin late some unusual event is expected. The crowd now moved towardsthe "Ducler. "

"Here's Desire!" was the general cry. 

The tyrant, and yet the life and soul of Nemours, Desire always putthe town in a ferment when he came. Loved by the young men, with whomhe was invariably generous, he stimulated them by his very presence. But his methods of amusement were so dreaded by older persons thatmore than one family was very thankful to have him complete hisstudies and study law in Paris. Desire Minoret, a slight youth, slender and fair like his mother, from whom he obtained his blue eyesand pale skin, smiled from the window on the crowd, and jumped lightlydown to kiss his mother. A short sketch of the young fellow will showhow proud Zelie felt when she saw him. 

He wore very elegant boots, trousers of white English drilling heldunder his feet by straps of varnished leather, a rich cravat, admirably put on and still more admirably fastened, a pretty fancywaistcoat, in the pocket of said waistcoat a flat watch, the chain ofwhich hung down; and, finally, a short frock-coat of blue cloth, and agray hat, --but his lack of the manner-born was shown in the giltbuttons of the waistcoat and the ring worn outside of his purple kidglove. He carried a cane with a chased gold head. 

"You are losing your watch, " said his mother, kissing him. 

"No, it is worn that way, " he replied, letting his father hug him. 

"Well, cousin, so we shall soon see you a lawyer?" said Massin. 

"I shall take the oaths at the beginning of next term, " said Desire, returning the friendly nods he was receiving on all sides. 

"Now we shall have some fun, " said Goupil, shaking him by the hand. 

"Ha! my old wag, so here you are!" replied Desire. 

"You take your law license for all license, " said Goupil, affronted bybeing treated so cavalierly in presence of others. 

"You know my luggage, " cried Desire to the red-faced old conductor ofthe diligence; "have it taken to the house. "

"The sweat is rolling off your horses, " said Zelie sharply to theconductor; "you haven't common-sense to drive them in that way. Youare stupider than your own beasts. "

"But Monsieur Desire was in a hurry to get here to save you fromanxiety, " explained Cabirolle. 

"But if there was no accident why risk killing the horses?" sheretorted. 

The greetings of friends and acquaintances, the crowding of the youngmen around Desire, and the relating of the incidents of the journeytook enough time for the mass to be concluded and the worshippers toissue from the church. By mere chance (which manages many things)Desire saw Ursula on the porch as he passed along, and he stoppedshort amazed at her beauty. His action also stopped the advance of therelations who accompanied him. 

In giving her arm to her godfather, Ursula was obliged to hold herprayer-book in one hand and her parasol in the other; and this she didwith the innate grace which graceful women put into the awkward ordifficult things of their charming craft of womanhood. If mind doestruly reveal itself in all things, we may be permitted to say thatUrsula's attitude and bearing suggested divine simplicity. She wasdressed in a white cambric gown made like a wrapper, trimmed here andthere with knots of blue ribbon. The pelerine, edged with the sameribbon run through a broad hem and tied with bows like those on thedress, showed the great beauty of her shape. Her throat, of a purewhite, was charming in tone against the blue, --the right color for afair skin. A long blue sash with floating ends defined a slender waistwhich seemed flexible, --a most seductive charm in women. She wore arice-straw bonnet, modestly trimmed with ribbons like those of thegown, the strings of which were tied under her chin, setting off thewhiteness of the straw and doing no despite to that of her beautifulcomplexion. Ursula dressed her own hair naturally (a la Berthe, as itwas then called) in heavy braids of fine, fair hair, laid flat oneither side of the head, each little strand reflecting the light asshe walked. Her gray eyes, soft and proud at the same time, were inharmony with a finely modeled brow. A rosy tinge, suffusing hercheeks like a cloud, brightened a face which was regular without beinginsipid; for nature had given her, by some rare privilege, extremepurity of form combined with strength of countenance. The nobility ofher life was manifest in the general expression of her person, whichmight have served as a model for a type of trustfulness, or ofmodesty. Her health, though brilliant, was not coarsely apparent; infact, her whole air was distinguished. Beneath the little gloves of alight color it was easy to imagine her pretty hands. The arched andslender feet were delicately shod in bronzed kid boots trimmed with abrown silk fringe. Her blue sash holding at the waist a small flatwatch and a blue purse with gilt tassels attracted the eyes of everywoman she met. 

"He has given her a new watch!" said Madame Cremiere, pinching herhusband's arm. 

"Heavens! is that Ursula?" cried Desire; "I didn't recognize her. "

"Well, my dear uncle, " said the post master, addressing the doctor andpointing to the whole population drawn up in parallel hedges to letthe doctor pass, "everybody wants to see you. "

"Was it the Abbe Chaperon or Mademoiselle Ursula who converted you, uncle, " said Massin, bowing to the doctor and his protegee, withJesuitical humility. 

"Ursula, " replied the doctor, laconically, continuing to walk on as ifannoyed. 

The night before, as the old man finished his game of whist withUrsula, the Nemours doctor, and Bongrand, he remarked, "I intend to goto church to-morrow. "

"Then, " said Bongrand, "your heirs won't get another night's rest. "

The speech was superfluous, however, for a single glance sufficed thesagacious and clear-sighted doctor to read the minds of his heirs bythe expression of their faces. Zelie's irruption into the church, herglance, which the doctor intercepted, this meeting of all theexpectant ones in the public square, and the expression in their eyesas they turned them on Ursula, all proved to him their hatred, nowfreshly awakened, and their sordid fears. 

"It is a feather in your cap, Mademoiselle, " said Madame Cremiere, putting in her word with a humble bow, --"a miracle which will not costyou much. "

"It is God's doing, madame, " replied Ursula. 

"God!" exclaimed Minoret-Levrault; "my father-in-law used to say heserved to blanket many horses. "

"Your father-in-law had the mind of a jockey, " said the doctorseverely. 

"Come, " said Minoret to his wife and son, "why don't you bow to myuncle?"

"I shouldn't be mistress of myself before that little hypocrite, "cried Zelie, carrying off her son. 

"I advise you, uncle, not to go to mass without a velvet cap, " saidMadame Massin; "the church is very damp. "

"Pooh, niece, " said the doctor, looking round on the assembly, "thesooner I'm put to bed the sooner you'll flourish. "

He walked on quickly, drawing Ursula with him, and seemed in such ahurry that the others dropped behind. 

"Why do you say such harsh things to them? it isn't right, " saidUrsula, shaking his arm in a coaxing way. 

"I shall always hate hypocrites, as much after as before I becamereligious. I have done good to them all, and I asked no gratitude; butnot one of my relatives sent you a flower on your birthday, which theyknow is the only day I celebrate. "

At some distance behind the doctor and Ursula came Madame dePortenduere, dragging herself along as if overcome with trouble. Shebelonged to the class of old women whose dress recalls the style ofthe last century. They wear puce-colored gowns with flat sleeves, thecut of which can be seen in the portraits of Madame Lebrun; they allhave black lace mantles and bonnets of a shape gone by, in keepingwith their slow and dignified deportment; one might almost fancy thatthey still wore paniers under their petticoats or felt them there, aspersons who have lost a leg are said to fancy that the foot is moving. They swathe their heads in old lace which declines to drape gracefullyabout their cheeks. Their wan and elongated faces, their haggard eyesand faded brows, are not without a certain melancholy grace, in spiteof the false fronts with flattened curls to which they cling, --and yetthese ruins are all subordinate to an unspeakable dignity of look andmanner. 

The red and wrinkled eyes of this old lady showed plainly that she hadbeen crying during the service. She walked like a person in trouble, seemed to be expecting some one, and looked behind her from time totime. Now, the fact of Madame de Portenduere looking behind her wasreally as remarkable in its way as the conversion of Doctor Minoret. 

"Who can Madame de Portenduere be looking for?" said Madame Massin, rejoining the other heirs, who were for the moment struck dumb by thedoctor's answer. 

"For the cure, " said Dionis, the notary, suddenly striking hisforehead as if some forgotten thought or memory had occurred to him. "I have an idea! I'll save your inheritance! Let us go and breakfastgayly with Madame Minoret. "

We can well imagine the alacrity with which the heirs followed thenotary to the post house. Goupil, who accompanied his friend Desire, locked arm in arm with him, whispered something in the youth's earwith an odious smile. 

"What do I care?" answered the son of the house, shrugging hisshoulders. "I am madly in love with Florine, the most celestialcreature in the world. "

"Florine! and who may she be?" demanded Goupil. "I'm too fond of youto let you make a goose of yourself wish such creatures. "

"Florine is the idol of the famous Nathan; my passion is wasted, Iknow that. She has positively refused to marry me. "

"Sometimes those girls who are fools with their bodies are wise withtheir heads, " responded Goupil. 

"If you could but see her--only once, " said Desire, lackadaisically, "you wouldn't say such things. "

"If I saw you throwing away your whole future for nothing better thana fancy, " said Goupil, with a warmth which might even have deceivedhis master, "I would break your doll as Varney served Amy Robsart in'Kenilworth. ' Your wife must be a d'Aiglement or a Mademoiselle duRouvre, and get you made a deputy. My future depends on yours, and Isha'n't let you commit any follies. "

"I am rich enough to care only for happiness, " replied Desire. 

"What are you two plotting together?" cried Zelie, beckoning to thetwo friends, who were standing in the middle of the courtyard, to comeinto the house. 

The doctor disappeared into the Rue des Bourgeois with the activity ofa young man, and soon reached his own house, where strange events hadlately taken place, the visible results of which now filled the mindsof the whole community of Nemours. A few explanations are needed tomake this history and the notary's remark to the heirs perfectlyintelligible to the reader. 

 CHAPTER V

 URSULA

The father-in-law of Doctor Minoret, the famous harpsichordist andmaker of instruments, Valentin Mirouet, also one of our mostcelebrated organists, died in 1785 leaving a natural son, the child ofhis old age, whom he acknowledged and called by his own name, but whoturned out a worthless fellow. He was deprived on his death bed of thecomfort of seeing this petted son. Joseph Mirouet, a singer andcomposer, having made his debut at the Italian opera under a feignedname, ran away with a young lady in Germany. The dying fathercommended the young man, who was really full of talent, to hisson-in-law, proving to him, at the same time, that he had refused tomarry the mother that he might not injure Madame Minoret. The doctorpromised to give the unfortunate Joseph half of whatever his wifeinherited from her father, whose business was purchased by the Erards. He made due search for his illegitimate brother-in-law; but Grimminformed him one day that after enlisting in a Prussian regimentJoseph had deserted and taken a false name and that all efforts tofind him would be frustrated. 

Joseph Mirouet, gifted by nature with a delightful voice, a finefigure, a handsome face, and being moreover a composer of great tasteand much brilliancy, led for over fifteen years the Bohemian lifewhich Hoffman has so well described. So, by the time he was forty, hewas reduced to such depths of poverty that he took advantage of theevents of 1806 to make himself once more a Frenchman. He settled inHamburg, where he married the daughter of a bourgeois, a girl devotedto music, who fell in love with the singer (whose fame was everprospective) and chose to devote her life to him. But after fifteenyears of Bohemia, Joseph Mirouet was unable to bear prosperity; he wasnaturally a spendthrift, and though kind to his wife, he wasted herfortune in a very few years. The household must have dragged on awretched existence before Joseph Mirouet reached the point ofenlisting as a musician in a French regiment. In 1813 thesurgeon-major of the regiment, by the merest chance, heard the name ofMirouet, was struck by it, and wrote to Doctor Minoret, to whom he wasunder obligations. 

The answer was not long in coming. As a result, in 1814, before theallied occupation, Joseph Mirouet had a home in Paris, where his wifedied giving birth to a little girl, whom the doctor desired should becalled Ursula after his wife. The father did not long survive themother, worn out, as she was, by hardship and poverty. When dying theunfortunate musician bequeathed his daughter to the doctor, who wasalready her godfather, in spite of his repugnance for what he calledthe mummeries of the Church. Having seen his own children die insuccession either in dangerous confinements or during the first yearof their lives, the doctor had awaited with anxiety the result of alast hope. When a nervous, delicate, and sickly woman begins with amiscarriage it is not unusual to see her go through a series of suchpregnancies as Ursula Minoret did, in spite of the care andwatchfulness and science of her husband. The poor man often blamedhimself for their mutual persistence in desiring children. The lastchild, born after a rest of nearly two years, died in 1792, a victimof its mother's nervous condition--if we listen to physiologists, whotell us that in the inexplicable phenomenon of generation the childderives from the father by blood and from the mother in its nervoussystem. 

Compelled to renounce the joys of a feeling all powerful within him, the doctor turned to benevolence as a substitute for his deniedpaternity. During his married life, thus cruelly disappointed, he hadlonged more especially for a fair little daughter, a flower to bringjoy to the house; he therefore gladly accepted Joseph Mirouet'slegacy, and gave to the orphan all the hopes of his vanished dreams. For two years he took part, as Cato for Pompey, in the most minuteparticulars of Ursula's life; he would not allow the nurse to suckleher or to take her up or put her to bed without him. His medicalscience and his experience were all put to use in her service. Aftergoing through many trials, alternations of hope and fear, and the joysand labors of a mother, he had the happiness of seeing this child ofthe fair German woman and the French singer a creature of vigoroushealth and profound sensibility. 

With all the eager feelings of a mother the happy old man watched thegrowth of the pretty hair, first down, then silk, at last hair, fineand soft and clinging to the fingers that caressed it. He often kissedthe little naked feet the toes of which, covered with a pelliclethrough which the blood was seen, were like rosebuds. He waspassionately fond of the child. When she tried to speak, or when shefixed her beautiful blue eyes upon some object with that serious, reflective look which seems the dawn of thought, and which she endedwith a laugh, he would stay by her side for hours, seeking, withJordy's help, to understand the reasons (which most people callcaprices) underlying the phenomena of this delicious phase of life, when childhood is both flower and fruit, a confused intelligence, aperpetual movement, a powerful desire. 

Ursula's beauty and gentleness made her so dear to the doctor that hewould have liked to change the laws of nature in her behalf. Hedeclared to old Jordy that his teeth ached when Ursula was cuttinghers. When old men love children there is no limit to their passion--they worship them. For these little beings they silence their ownmanias or recall a whole past in their service. Experience, patience, sympathy, the acquisitions of life, treasures laboriously amassed, allare spent upon that young life in which they live again; theirintelligence does actually take the place of motherhood. Their wisdom, ever on the alert, is equal to the intuition of a mother; theyremember the delicate perceptions which in their own mother weredivinations, and import them into the exercise of a compassion whichis carried to an extreme in their minds by a sense of the child'sunutterable weakness. The slowness of their movements takes the placeof maternal gentleness. In them, as in children, life is reduced toits simplest expression; if maternal sentiment makes the mother aslave, the abandonment of self allows an old man to devote himselfutterly. For these reasons it is not unusual to see children in closeintimacy with old persons. The old soldier, the old abbe, the olddoctor, happy in the kisses and cajoleries of little Ursula, werenever weary of answering her talk and playing with her. Far frommaking them impatient her petulances charmed them; and they gratifiedall her wishes, making each the ground of some little training. 

The child grew up surrounded by old men, who smiled at her and madethemselves mothers for her sake, all three equally attentive andprovident. Thanks to this wise education, Ursula's soul developed in asphere that suited it. This rare plant found its special soil; itbreathed the elements of its true life and assimilated the sun raysthat belonged to it. 

"In what faith do you intend to bring up the little one?" asked theabbe of the doctor, when Ursula was six years old. 

"In yours, " answered Minoret. 

An atheist after the manner of Monsieur Wolmar in the "NouvelleHeloise" he did not claim the right to deprive Ursula of the benefitsoffered by the Catholic religion. The doctor, sitting at the moment ona bench outside the Chinese pagoda, felt the pressure of the abbe'shand on his. 

"Yes, abbe, every time she talks to me of God I shall send her to herfriend 'Shapron, '" he said, imitating Ursula's infant speech, "I wishto see whether religious sentiment is inborn or not. Therefore I shalldo nothing either for or against the tendencies of that young soul;but in my heart I have appointed you her spiritual guardian. "

"God will reward you, I hope, " replied the abbe, gently joining hishands and raising them towards heaven as if he were making a briefmental prayer. 

So, from the time she was six years old the little orphan lived underthe religious influence of the abbe, just as she had already comeunder the educational training of her friend Jordy. 

The captain, formerly a professor in a military academy, having ataste for grammar and for the differences among European languages, had studied the problem of a universal tongue. This learned man, patient as most old scholars are, delighted in teaching Ursula to readand write. He taught her also the French language and all she neededto know of arithmetic. The doctor's library afforded a choice of bookswhich could be read by a child for amusement as well as instruction. 

The abbe and the soldier allowed the young mind to enrich itself withthe freedom and comfort which the doctor gave to the body. Ursulalearned as she played. Religion was given with due reflection. Left tofollow the divine training of a nature that was led into regions ofpurity by these judicious educators, Ursula inclined more to sentimentthan to duty; she took as her rule of conduct the voice of her ownconscience rather than the demands of social law. In her, nobility offeeling and action would ever be spontaneous; her judgment wouldconfirm the impulse of her heart. She was destined to do right as apleasure before doing it as an obligation. This distinction is thepeculiar sign of Christian education. These principles, altogetherdifferent from those that are taught to men, were suitable for awoman, --the spirit and the conscience of the home, the beautifier ofdomestic life, the queen of her household. All three of these oldpreceptors followed the same method with Ursula. Instead of recoilingbefore the bold questions of innocence, they explained to her thereasons of things and the best means of action, taking care to giveher none but correct ideas. When, apropos of a flower, a star, a bladeof grass, her thoughts went straight to God, the doctor and theprofessor told her that the priest alone could answer her. None ofthem intruded on the territory of the others; the doctor took chargeof her material well-being and the things of life; Jordy's departmentwas instruction; moral and spiritual questions and the ideasappertaining to the higher life belonged to the abbe. This nobleeducation was not, as it often is, counteracted by injudiciousservants. La Bougival, having been lectured on the subject, and being, moreover, too simple in mind and character to interfere, did nothingto injure the work of these great minds. Ursula, a privileged being, grew up with good geniuses round her; and her naturally finedisposition made the task of each a sweet and easy one. Such manlytenderness, such gravity lighted by smiles, such liberty withoutdanger, such perpetual care of soul and body made little Ursula, whennine years of age, a well-trained child and delightful to behold. 

Unhappily, this paternal trinity was broken up. The old captain diedthe following year, leaving the abbe and the doctor to finish hiswork, of which, however, he had accomplished the most difficult part. Flowers will bloom of themselves if grown in a soil thus prepared. Theold gentleman had laid by for ten years past one thousand francs ayear, that he might leave ten thousand to his little Ursula, and keepa place in her memory during her whole life. In his will, the wordingof which was very touching, he begged his legatee to spend the four orfive hundred francs that came of her little capital exclusively on herdress. When the justice of the peace applied the seals to the effectsof his old friend, they found in a small room, which the captain hadallowed no one to enter, a quantity of toys, many of them broken, while all had been used, --toys of a past generation, reverentlypreserved, which Monsieur Bongrand was, according to the captain'slast wishes, to burn with his own hands. 

About this time it was that Ursula made her first communion. The abbeemployed one whole year in duly instructing the young girl, whose mindand heart, each well developed, yet judiciously balancing one another, needed a special spiritual nourishment. The initiation into aknowledge of divine things which he gave her was such that Ursula grewinto the pious and mystical young girl whose character rose above allvicissitudes, and whose heart was enabled to conquer adversity. Thenbegan a secret struggle between the old man wedded to unbelief and theyoung girl full of faith, --long unsuspected by her who incited it, --the result of which had now stirred the whole town, and was destinedto have great influence on Ursula's future by rousing against her theantagonism of the doctor's heirs. 

During the first six months of the year 1824 Ursula spent all hermornings at the parsonage. The old doctor guessed the abbe's secrethope. He meant to make Ursula an unanswerable argument against him. The old unbeliever, loved by his godchild as though she were his owndaughter, would surely believe in such artless candor; he could notfail to be persuaded by the beautiful effects of religion on the soulof a child, where love was like those trees of Eastern climes, bearingboth flowers and fruit, always fragrant, always fertile. A beautifullife is more powerful than the strongest argument. It is impossible toresist the charms of certain sights. The doctor's eyes were wet, heknew not how or why, when he saw the child of his heart starting forthe church, wearing a frock of white crape, and shoes of white satin;her hair bound with a fillet fastened at the side with a knot of whiteribbon, and rippling upon her shoulders; her eyes lighted by the starof a first hope; hurrying, tall and beautiful, to a first union, andloving her godfather better since her soul had risen towards God. Whenthe doctor perceived that the thought of immortality was nourishingthat spirit (until then within the confines of childhood) as the sungives life to the earth without knowing why, he felt sorry that heremained at home alone. 

Sitting on the steps of his portico he kept his eyes fixed on the ironrailing of the gate through which the child had disappeared, saying asshe left him: "Why won't you come, godfather? how can I be happywithout you?" Though shaken to his very center, the pride of theEncyclopedist did not as yet give way. He walked slowly in a directionfrom which he could see the procession of communicants, anddistinguish his little Ursula brilliant with exaltation beneath herveil. She gave him an inspired look, which knocked, in the stonyregions of his heart, on the corner closed to God. But still the olddeist held firm. He said to himself: "Mummeries! if there be a makerof worlds, imagine the organizer of infinitude concerning himself withsuch trifles!" He laughed as he continued his walk along the heightswhich look down upon the road to the Gatinais, where the bells wereringing a joyous peal that told of the joy of families. 

The noise of backgammon is intolerable to persons who do not know thegame, which is really one of the most difficult that was everinvented. Not to annoy his godchild, the extreme delicacy of whoseorgans and nerves could not bear, he thought, without injury the noiseand the exclamations she did not know the meaning of, the abbe, oldJordy while living, and the doctor always waited till their child wasin bed before they began their favorite game. Sometimes the visitorscame early when she was out for a walk, and the game would be going onwhen she returned; then she resigned herself with infinite grace andtook her seat at the window with her work. She had a repugnance to thegame, which is really in the beginning very hard and unconquerable tosome minds, so that unless it be learned in youth it is almostimpossible to take it up in after life. 

The night of her first communion, when Ursula came into the salonwhere her godfather was sitting alone, she put the backgammon-boardbefore him. 

"Whose throw shall it be?" she asked. 

"Ursula, " said the doctor, "isn't it a sin to make fun of yourgodfather the day of your first communion?"

"I am not making fun of you, " she said, sitting down. "I want to giveyou some pleasure--you who are always on the look-out for mine. WhenMonsieur Chaperon was pleased with me he gave me a lesson inbackgammon, and he has given me so many that now I am quite strongenough to beat you--you shall not deprive yourself any longer for me. I have conquered all difficulties, and now I like the noise of thegame. "

Ursula won. The abbe had slipped in to enjoy his triumph. The nextday Minoret, who had always refused to let Ursula learn music, sent toParis for a piano, made arrangements at Fontainebleau for a teacher, and submitted to the annoyance that her constant practicing was tohim. One of poor Jordy's predictions was fulfilled, --the girl becamean excellent musician. The doctor, proud of her talent, had latelysent to Paris for a master, an old German named Schmucke, adistinguished professor who came once a week; the doctor willinglypaying for an art which he had formerly declared to be useless in ahousehold. Unbelievers do not like music--a celestial language, developed by Catholicism, which has taken the names of the seven notesfrom one of the church hymns; every note being the first syllable ofthe seven first lines in the hymn to Saint John. 

The impression produced on the doctor by Ursula's first communionthough keen was not lasting. The calm and sweet contentment whichprayer and the exercise of resolution produced in that young soul hadnot their due influence upon him. Having no reasons for remorse orrepentance himself, he enjoyed a serene peace. Doing his ownbenefactions without hope of a celestial harvest, he thought himselfon a nobler plane than religious men whom he always accused formaking, as he called it, terms with God. 

"But, " the abbe would say to him, "if all men would be so, you mustadmit that society would be regenerated; there would be no moremisery. To be benevolent after your fashion one must needs be a greatphilosopher; you rise to your principles through reason, you are asocial exception; whereas it suffices to be a Christian to make usbenevolent in ours. With you, it is an effort; with us, it comesnaturally. "

"In other words, abbe, I think, and you feel, --that's the whole ofit. "

However, at twelve years of age, Ursula, whose quickness and naturalfeminine perceptions were trained by her superior education, and whoseintelligence in its dawn was enlightened by a religious spirit (of allspirits the most refined), came to understand that her godfather didnot believe in a future life, nor in the immortality of the soul, norin providence, nor in God. Pressed with questions by the innocentcreature, the doctor was unable to hide the fatal secret. Ursula'sartless consternation made him smile, but when he saw her depressedand sad he felt how deep an affection her sadness revealed. Absolutedevotion has a horror of every sort of disagreement, even in ideaswhich it does not share. Sometimes the doctor accepted his darling'sreasonings as he would her kisses, said as they were in the sweetestof voices with the purest and most fervent feeling. Believers andunbelievers speak different languages and cannot understand eachother. The young girl pleading God's cause was unreasonable with theold man, as a spoilt child sometimes maltreats its mother. The abberebuked her gently, telling her that God had power to humiliate proudspirits. Ursula replied that David had overcome Goliath. 

This religious difference, these complaints of the child who wished todrag her godfather to God, were the only troubles of this happy life, so peaceful, yet so full, and wholly withdrawn from the inquisitiveeyes of the little town. Ursula grew and developed, and became in timethe modest and religiously trained young woman whom Desire admired asshe left the church. The cultivation of flowers in the garden, hermusic, the pleasures of her godfather, and all the little cares shewas able to give him (for she had eased La Bougival's labors by doingeverything for him), --these things filled the hours, the days, themonths of her calm life. Nevertheless, for about a year the doctor hadfelt uneasy about his Ursula, and watched her health with the utmostcare. Sagacious and profoundly practical observer that he was, hethought he perceived some commotion in her moral being. He watched herlike a mother, but seeing no one about her who was worthy of inspiringlove, his uneasiness on the subject at length passed away. 

At this conjuncture, one month before the day when this drama begins, the doctor's intellectual life was invaded by one of those eventswhich plough to the very depths of a man's convictions and turn themover. But this event needs a succinct narrative of certaincircumstances in his medical career, which will give, perhaps, freshinterest to the story. 

 CHAPTER VI

 A TREATISE ON MESMERISM

Towards the end of the eighteenth century science was sundered aswidely by the apparition of Mesmer as art had been by that of Gluck. After re-discovering magnetism Mesmer came to France, where, from timeimmemorial, inventors have flocked to obtain recognition for theirdiscoveries. France, thanks to her lucid language, is in some sensethe clarion of the world. 

"If homoeopathy gets to Paris it is saved, " said Hahnemann, recently. 

"Go to France, " said Monsieur de Metternich to Gall, "and if theylaugh at your bumps you will be famous. "

Mesmer had disciples and antagonists as ardent for and against histheories as the Piccinists and the Gluckists for theirs. ScientificFrance was stirred to its center; a solemn conclave was opened. Beforejudgment was rendered, the medical faculty proscribed, in a body, Mesmer's so-called charlatanism, his tub, his conducting wires, andhis theory. But let us at once admit that the German, unfortunately, compromised his splendid discovery by enormous pecuniary claims. Mesmer was defeated by the doubtfulness of facts, by universalignorance of the part played in nature by imponderable fluids thenunobserved, and by his own inability to study on all sides a sciencepossessing a triple front. Magnetism has many applications; inMesmer's hands it was, in its relation to the future, merely whatcause is to effect. But, if the discoverer lacked genius, it is a sadthing both for France and for human reason to have to say that ascience contemporaneous with civilization, cultivated by Egypt andChaldea, by Greece and India, met in Paris in the eighteenth centurythe fate that Truth in the person of Galileo found in the sixteenth;and that magnetism was rejected and cast out by the combined attacksof science and religion, alarmed for their own positions. Magnetism, the favorite science of Jesus Christ and one of the divine powerswhich he gave to his disciples, was no better apprehended by theChurch than by the disciples of Jean-Jacques, Voltaire, Locke, andCondillac. The Encyclopedists and the clergy were equally averse tothe old human power which they took to be new. The miracles of theconvulsionaries, suppressed by the Church and smothered by theindifference of scientific men (in spite of the precious writings ofthe Councilor, Carre de Montgeron) were the first summons to makeexperiments with those human fluids which give power to employ certaininward forces to neutralize the sufferings caused by outward agents. But to do this it was necessary to admit the existence of fluidsintangible, invisible, imponderable, three negative terms in which thescience of that day chose to see a definition of the void. In modernphilosophy there is no void. Ten feet of void and the world crumblesaway! To materialists especially the world is full, all things hangtogether, are linked, related, organized. "The world as the result ofchance, " said Diderot, "is more explicable than God. The multiplicityof causes, the incalculable number of issues presupposed by chance, explain creation. Take the Eneid and all the letters composing it; ifyou allow me time and space, I can, by continuing to cast the letters, arrive at last at the Eneid combination. "

Those foolish persons who deify all rather than admit a God recoilbefore the infinite divisibility of matter which is in the nature ofimponderable forces. Locke and Condillac retarded by fifty years theimmense progress which natural science is now making under the greatprinciple of unity due to Geoffroy de Saint-Hilaire. Some intelligentpersons, without any system, convinced by facts conscientiouslystudied, still hold to Mesmer's doctrine, which recognizes theexistence of a penetrative influence acting from man to man, put inmotion by the will, curative by the abundance of the fluid, theworking of which is in fact a duel between two forces, between an illto be cured and the will to cure it. 

The phenomena of somnambulism, hardly perceived by Mesmer, wererevealed by du Puysegur and Deleuze; but the Revolution put a stop totheir discoveries and played into the hands of the scientists andscoffers. Among the small number of believers were a few physicians. They were persecuted by their brethren as long as they lived. Therespectable body of Parisian doctors displayed all the bitterness ofreligious warfare against the Mesmerists, and were as cruel in theirhatred as it was possible to be in those days of Voltairean tolerance. The orthodox physician refused to consult with those who adopted theMesmerian heresy. In 1820 these heretics were still proscribed. Themiseries and sorrows of the Revolution had not quenched the scientifichatred. It is only priests, magistrates, and physicians who can hatein that way. The official robe is terrible! But ideas are even moreimplacable than things. 

Doctor Bouvard, one of Minoret's friends, believed in the new faith, and persevered to the day of his death in studying a science to whichhe sacrificed the peace of his life, for he was one of the chief"betes noires" of the Parisian faculty. Minoret, a valiant supporterof the Encyclopedists, and a formidable adversary of Desion, Mesmer'sassistant, whose pen had great weight in the controversy, quarreledwith his old friend, and not only that, but he persecuted him. Hisconduct to Bouvard must have caused him the only remorse whichtroubled the serenity of his declining years. Since his retirement toNemours the science of imponderable fluids (the only name suitable formagnetism, which, by the nature of its phenomena, is closely allied tolight and electricity) had made immense progress, in spite of theridicule of Parisian scientists. Phrenology and physiognomy, thedepartments of Gall and Lavater (which are in fact twins, for one isto the other as cause is to effect), proved to the minds of more thanone physiologist the existence of an intangible fluid which is thebasis of the phenomena of the human will, and from which resultpassions, habits, the shape of faces and of skulls. Magnetic facts, the miracles of somnambulism, those of divination and ecstasy, whichopen a way to the spiritual world, were fast accumulating. The strangetale of the apparitions of the farmer Martin, so clearly proved, andhis interview with Louis XVIII. ; a knowledge of the intercourse ofSwedenborg with the departed, carefully investigated in Germany; thetales of Walter Scott on the effects of "second sight"; theextraordinary faculties of some fortune-tellers, who practice as asingle science chiromancy, cartomancy, and the horoscope; the facts ofcatalepsy, and those of the action of certain morbid affections on theproperties of the diaphragm, --all such phenomena, curious, to say theleast, each emanating from the same source, were now undermining manyscepticisms and leading even the most indifferent minds to the planeof experiments. Minoret, buried in Nemours, was ignorant of thismovement of minds, strong in the north of Europe but still weak inFrance where, however, many facts called marvelous by superficialobservers, were happening, but falling, alas! like stones to thebottom of the sea, in the vortex of Parisian excitements. 

At the bottom of the present year the doctor's tranquillity was shakenby the following letter:--

My old comrade, --All friendship, even if lost, as rights which itis difficult to set aside. I know that you are still living, and Iremember far less our enmity than our happy days in that old hovelof Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre. 

At a time when I expect to soon leave the world I have it on myheart to prove to you that magnetism is about to become one of themost important of the sciences--if indeed all science is not _one_. I can overcome your incredulity by proof. Perhaps I shall owe toyour curiosity the happiness of taking you once more by the hand--as in the days before Mesmer. Always yours, Bouvard. 

Stung like a lion by a gadfly the old scientist rushed to Paris andleft his card on Bouvard, who lived in the Rue Ferou nearSaint-Sulpice. Bouvard sent a card to his hotel on which was written"To-morrow; nine o'clock, Rue Saint-Honore, opposite the Assumption. "

Minoret, who seemed to have renewed his youth, could not sleep. Hewent to see some of his friends among the faculty to inquire if theworld were turned upside down, if the science of medicine still had aschool, if the four faculties any longer existed. The doctorsreassured him, declaring that the old spirit of opposition was asstrong as ever, only, instead of persecuting as heretofore, theAcademies of Medicine and of Sciences rang with laughter as theyclassed magnetic facts with the tricks of Comus and Comte and Bosco, with jugglery and prestidigitation and all that now went by the nameof "amusing physics. "

This assurance did not prevent old Minoret from keeping theappointment made for him by Bouvard. After an enmity of forty-fouryears the two antagonists met beneath a porte-cochere in the RueSaint-Honore. Frenchmen have too many distractions of mind to hateeach other long. In Paris especially, politics, literature, andscience render life so vast that every man can find new worlds toconquer where all pretensions may live at ease. Hatred requires toomany forces fully armed. None but public bodies can keep alive thesentiment. Robespierre and Danton would have fallen into each other'sarms at the end of forty-four years. However, the two doctors eachwithheld his hand and did not offer it. Bouvard spoke first:--

"You seem wonderfully well. "

"Yes, I am--and you?" said Minoret, feeling that the ice was nowbroken. 

"As you see. "

"Does magnetism prevent people from dying?" asked Minoret in a jokingtone, but without sharpness. 

"No, but it almost prevented me from living. "

"Then you are not rich?" exclaimed Minoret. 

"Pooh!" said Bouvard. 

"But I am!" cried the other. 

"It is not your money but your convictions that I want. Come, " repliedBouvard. 

"Oh! you obstinate fellow!" said Minoret. 

The Mesmerist led his sceptic, with some precaution, up a dingystaircase to the fourth floor. 

At this particular time an extraordinary man had appeared in Paris, endowed by faith with incalculable power, and controlling magneticforces in all their applications. Not only did this great unknown (whostill lives) heal from a distance the worst and most inveteratediseases, suddenly and radically, as the Savior of men did formerly, but he was also able to call forth instantaneously the most remarkablephenomena of somnambulism and conquer the most rebellious will. Thecountenance of this mysterious being, who claims to be responsible toGod alone and to communicate, like Swedenborg, with angels, resemblesthat of a lion; concentrated, irresistible energy shines in it. Hisfeatures, singularly contorted, have a terrible and even blastingaspect. His voice, which comes from the depths of his being, seemscharged with some magnetic fluid; it penetrates the hearer at everypore. Disgusted by the ingratitude of the public after his many cures, he has now returned to an impenetrable solitude, a voluntarynothingness. His all-powerful hand, which has restored a dyingdaughter to her mother, fathers to their grief-stricken children, adored mistresses to lovers frenzied with love, cured the sick givenover by physicians, soothed the sufferings of the dying when lifebecame impossible, wrung psalms of thanksgiving in synagogues, temples, and churches from the lips of priests recalled to the one Godby the same miracle, --that sovereign hand, a sun of life dazzling theclosed eyes of the somnambulist, has never been raised again even tosave the heir-apparent of a kingdom. Wrapped in the memory of his pastmercies as in a luminous shroud, he denies himself to the world andlives for heaven. 

But, at the dawn of his reign, surprised by his own gift, this man, whose generosity equaled his power, allowed a few interested personsto witness his miracles. The fame of his work, which was mighty, andcould easily be revived to-morrow, reached Dr. Bouvard, who was thenon the verge of the grave. The persecuted mesmerist was at lastenabled to witness the startling phenomena of a science he had longtreasured in his heart. The sacrifices of the old man touched theheart of the mysterious stranger, who accorded him certain privileges. As Bouvard now went up the staircase he listened to the twittings ofhis old antagonist with malicious delight, answering only, "You shallsee, you shall see!" with the emphatic little nods of a man who issure of his facts. 

The two physicians entered a suite of rooms that were more thanmodest. Bouvard went alone into a bedroom which adjoined the salonwhere he left Minoret, whose distrust was instantly awakened; butBouvard returned at once and took him into the bedroom, where he sawthe mysterious Swedenborgian, and also a woman sitting in an armchair. The woman did not rise, and seemed not to notice the entrance of thetwo old men. 

"What! no tub?" cried Minoret, smiling. 

"Nothing but the power of God, " answered the Swedenborgian gravely. Heseemed to Minoret to be about fifty years of age. 

The three men sat down and the mysterious stranger talked of the rainand the coming fine weather, to the great astonishment of Minoret, whothought he was being hoaxed. The Swedenborgian soon began, however, toquestion his visitor on his scientific opinions, and seemed evidentlyto be taking time to examine him. 

"You have come here solely from curiosity, monsieur, " he said at last. "It is not my habit to prostitute a power which, according to myconviction, emanates from God; if I made a frivolous or unworthy useof it, it would be taken from me. Nevertheless, there is some hope, Monsieur Bouvard tells me, of changing the opinions of one who hasopposed us, of enlightening a scientific man whose mind is candid; Ihave therefore determined to satisfy you. That woman whom you seethere, " he continued, pointing to her, "is now in a somnambulic sleep. The statements and manifestations of somnambulists declare that thisstate is a delightful other life, during which the inner being, freedfrom the trammels laid upon the exercise of our faculties by thevisible world, moves in a world which we mistakenly term invisible. Sight and hearing are then exercised in a manner far more perfect thanany we know of here, possibly without the help of the organs we nowemploy, which are the scabbard of the luminous blades called sight andhearing. To a person in that state, distance and material obstacles donot exist, or they can be traversed by a life within us for which ourbody is a mere receptacle, a necessary shelter, a casing. Terms failto describe effects that have lately been rediscovered, for to-day thewords imponderable, intangible, invisible have no meaning to the fluidwhose action is demonstrated by magnetism. Light is ponderable by itsheat, which, by penetrating bodies, increases their volume; andcertainly electricity is only too tangible. We have condemned thingsthemselves instead of blaming the imperfection of our instruments. "

"She sleeps, " said Minoret, examining the woman, who seemed to him tobelong to an inferior class. 

"Her body is for the time being in abeyance, " said the Swedenborgian. "Ignorant persons suppose that condition to be sleep. But she willprove to you that there is a spiritual universe, and that the mindwhen there does not obey the laws of this material universe. I willsend her wherever you wish to go, --a hundred miles from here or toChina, as you will. She will tell you what is happening there. "

"Send her to my house in Nemours, Rue des Bourgeois; that will do, "said Minoret. 

He took Minoret's hand, which the doctor let him take, and held it fora moment seeming to collect himself; then with his other hand he tookthat of the woman sitting in the arm-chair and placed the hand of thedoctor in it, making a sign to the old sceptic to seat himself besidethis oracle without a tripod. Minoret observed a slight tremor on theabsolutely calm features of the woman when their hands were thusunited by the Swedenborgian, but the action, though marvelous in itseffects, was very simply done. 

"Obey him, " said the unknown personage, extending his hand above thehead of the sleeping woman, who seemed to imbibe both light and lifefrom him, "and remember that what you do for him will please me. --Youcan now speak to her, " he added, addressing Minoret. 

"Go to Nemours, to my house, Rue des Bourgeois, " said the doctor. 

"Give her time; put your hand in hers until she proves to you by whatshe tells you that she is where you wish her to be, " said Bouvard tohis old friend. 

"I see a river, " said the woman in a feeble voice, seeming to lookwithin herself with deep attention, notwithstanding her closedeyelids. "I see a pretty garden--"

"Why do you enter by the river and the garden?" said Minoret. 

"Because they are there. "

"Who?"

"The young girl and her nurse, whom you are thinking of. "

"What is the garden like?" said Minoret. 

"Entering by the steps which go down to the river, there is the right, a long brick gallery, in which I see books; it ends in a singularbuilding, --there are wooden bells, and a pattern of red eggs. To theleft, the wall is covered with climbing plants, wild grapes, Virginiajessamine. In the middle is a sun-dial. There are many plants in pots. Your child is looking at the flowers. She shows them to her nurse--sheis making holes in the earth with her trowel, and planting seeds. Thenurse is raking the path. The young girl is pure as an angel, but thebeginning of love is there, faint as the dawn--"

"Love for whom?" asked the doctor, who, until now, would have listenedto no word said to him by somnambulists. He considered it alljugglery. 

"You know nothing--though you have lately been uneasy about herhealth, " answered the woman. "Her heart has followed the dictates ofnature. "

"A woman of the people to talk like this!" cried the doctor. 

"In the state she is in all persons speak with extraordinaryperception, " said Bouvard. 

"But who is it that Ursula loves?"

"Ursula does not know that she loves, " said the woman with a shake ofthe head; "she is too angelic to know what love is; but her mind isoccupied by him; she thinks of him; she tries to escape the thought;but she returns to it in spite of her will to abstain. --She is at thepiano--"

"But who is he?"

"The son of a lady who lives opposite. "

"Madame de Portenduere?"

"Portenduere, did you say?" replied the sleeper. "Perhaps so. Butthere's no danger; he is not in the neighbourhood. "

"Have they spoken to each other?" asked the doctor. 

"Never. They have looked at one another. She thinks him charming. Heis, in fact, a fine man; he has a good heart. She sees him from herwindow; they see each other in church. But the young man no longerthinks of her. "

"His name?"

"Ah! to tell you that I must read it, or hear it. He is namedSavinien; she has just spoken his name; she thinks it sweet to say;she has looked in the almanac for his fete-day and marked a red dotagainst it, --child's play, that. Ah! she will love well, with as muchstrength as purity; she is not a girl to love twice; love will so dyeher soul and fill it that she will reject all other sentiments. "

"Where do you see that?"

"In her. She will know how to suffer; she inherits that; her fatherand her mother suffered much. "

The last words overcame the doctor, who felt less shaken thansurprised. It is proper to state that between her sentences the womanpaused for several minutes, during which time her attention becamemore and more concentrated. She was seen to see; her forehead had asingular aspect; an inward effort appeared there; it seemed to clearor cloud by some mysterious power, the effects of which Minoret hadseen in dying persons at moments when they appeared to have the giftof prophecy. Several times she made gestures which resembled those ofUrsula. 

"Question her, " said the mysterious stranger, to Minoret, "she willtell you secrets you alone can know. "

"Does Ursula love me?" asked Minoret. 

"Almost as much as she loves God, " was the answer. "But she is veryunhappy at your unbelief. You do not believe in God; as if you couldprevent his existence! His word fills the universe. You are the causeof her only sorrow. --Hear! she is playing scales; she longs to be abetter musician than she is; she is provoked with herself. She isthinking, 'If I could sing, if my voice were fine, it would reach hisear when he is with his mother. '"

Doctor Minoret took out his pocket-book and noted the hour. 

"Tell me what seeds she planted?"

"Mignonette, sweet-peas, balsams--"

"And what else?"

"Larkspur. "

"Where is my money?"

"With your notary; but you invest it so as not to lose the interest ofa single day. "

"Yes, but where is the money that I keep for my monthly expenses?"

"You put it in a large book bound in red, entitled 'Pandects ofJustinian, Vol. II. ' between the last two leaves; the book is on theshelf of folios above the glass buffet. You have a whole row of them. Your money is in the last volume next to the salon-- See! Vol. III. Isbefore Vol. II. --but you have no money, it is all in--"

"--thousand-franc notes, " said the doctor. 

"I cannot see, they are folded. No, there are two notes of fivehundred francs. "

"You see them?"

"Yes. "

"How do they look?"

"One is old and yellow, the other white and new. "

This last phase of the inquiry petrified the doctor. He looked atBouvard with a bewildered air; but Bouvard and the Swedenborgian, whowere accustomed to the amazement of sceptics, were speaking togetherin a low voice and appeared not to notice him. Minoret begged them toallow him to return after dinner. The old philosopher wished tocompose his mind and shake off this terror, so as to put this vastpower to some new test, to subject it to more decisive experiments andobtain answers to certain questions, the truth of which should do awaywith every sort of doubt. 

"Be here at nine o'clock this evening, " said the stranger. "I willreturn to meet you. "

Doctor Minoret was in so convulsed a state that he left the roomwithout bowing, followed by Bouvard, who called to him from behind. "Well, what do you say? what do you say?"

"I think I am mad, Bouvard, " answered Minoret from the steps of theporte-cochere. "If that woman tells the truth about Ursula, --and nonebut Ursula can know the things that sorceress has told me, --I shallsay that _you are right_. I wish I had wings to fly to Nemours thisminute and verify her words. But I shall hire a carriage and start atten o'clock to-night. Ah! am I losing my senses?"

"What would you say if you knew of a life-long incurable diseasehealed in a moment; if you saw that great magnetizer bring sweat intorrents from an herpetic patient, or make a paralyzed woman walk?"

"Come and dine, Bouvard; stay with me till nine o'clock. I must findsome decisive, undeniable test!"

"So be it, old comrade, " answered the other. 

The reconciled enemies dined in the Palais-Royal. After a livelyconversation, which helped Minoret to evade the fever of the ideaswhich were ravaging his brain, Bouvard said to him:--

"If you admit in that woman the faculty of annihilating or oftraversing space, if you obtain a certainty that here, in Paris, shesees and hears what is said and done in Nemours, you must admit allother magnetic facts; they are not more incredible than these. Ask herfor some one proof which you know will satisfy you--for you mightsuppose that we obtained information to deceive you; but we cannotknow, for instance, what will happen at nine o'clock in yourgoddaughter's bedroom. Remember, or write down, what the sleeper willsee and hear, and then go home. Your little Ursula, whom I do notknow, is not our accomplice, and if she tells you that she has saidand done what you have written down--lower thy head, proud Hun!"

The two friends returned to the house opposite to the Assumption andfound the somnambulist, who in her waking state did not recognizeDoctor Minoret. The eyes of this woman closed gently before the handof the Swedenborgian, which was stretched towards her at a littledistance, and she took the attitude in which Minoret had first seenher. When her hand and that of the doctor were again joined, he askedher to tell him what was happening in his house at Nemours at thatinstant. "What is Ursula doing?" he said. 

"She is undressed; she has just curled her hair; she is kneeling onher prie-Dieu, before an ivory crucifix fastened to a red velvetbackground. "

"What is she saying?"

"Her evening prayers; she is commending herself to God; she imploreshim to save her soul from evil thoughts; she examines her conscienceand recalls what she has done during the day; that she may know if shehas failed to obey his commands and those of the church--poor dearlittle soul, she lays bare her breast!" Tears were in the sleeper'seyes. "She has done no sin, but she blames herself for thinking toomuch of Savinien. She stops to wonder what he is doing in Paris; sheprays to God to make him happy. She speaks of you; she is prayingaloud. "

"Tell me her words. " Minoret took his pencil and wrote, as the sleeperuttered it, the following prayer, evidently composed by the AbbeChaperon. 

 "My God, if thou art content with thine handmaid, who worships thee and prays to thee with a love that is equal to her devotion, who strives not to wander from thy sacred paths, who would gladly die as thy Son died to glorify thy name, who desires to live in the shadow of thy will--O God, who knoweth the heart, open the eyes of my godfather, lead him in the way of salvation, grant him thy Divine grace, that he may live for thee in his last days; save him from evil, and let me suffer in his stead. Kind Saint Ursula, dear protectress, and you, Mother of God, queen of heaven, archangels, and saints in Paradise, hear me! join your intercessions to mine and have mercy upon us. "

The sleeper imitated so perfectly the artless gestures and theinspired manner of his child that Doctor Minoret's eyes were filledwith tears. 

"Does she say more?" he asked. 

"Yes. "

"Repeat it. "

"'My dear godfather; I wonder who plays backgammon with him in Paris. 'She has blown out the light--her head is on the pillow--she turns tosleep! Ah! she is off! How pretty she looks in her little night-cap. "

Minoret bowed to the great Unknown, wrung Bouvard by the hand, randownstairs and hastened to a cab-stand which at that time was near thegates of a house since pulled down to make room for the Rue d'Alger. There he found a coachman who was willing to start immediately forFontainebleau. The moment the price was agreed on, the old man, whoseemed to have renewed his youth, jumped into the carriage andstarted. According to agreement, he stopped to rest the horse atEssonne, but arrived at Fontainebleau in time for the diligence toNemours, on which he secured a seat, and dismissed his coachman. Hereached home at five in the morning, and went to bed, with hislife-long ideas of physiology, nature, and metaphysics in ruins abouthim, and slept till nine o'clock, so wearied was he with the events ofhis journey. 

 CHAPTER VII

 A TWO-FOLD CONVERSION

On rising, the doctor, sure that no one had crossed the threshold ofhis house since he re-entered it, proceeded (but not without extremetrepidation) to verify his facts. He was himself ignorant of anydifference in the bank-notes and also of the misplacement of thePandect volumes. The somnambulist was right. The doctor rang for LaBougival. 

"Tell Ursula to come and speak to me, " he said, seating himself in thecenter of his library. 

The girl came; she ran up to him and kissed him. The doctor took heron his knee, where she sat contentedly, mingling her soft fair curlswith the white hair of her old friend. 

"Do you want something, godfather?"

"Yes; but promise me, on your salvation, to answer frankly, withoutevasion, the questions that I shall put to you. "

Ursula colored to the temples. 

"Oh! I'll ask nothing that you cannot speak of, " he said, noticing howthe bashfulness of young love clouded the hitherto childlike purity ofthe girl's blue eyes. 

"Ask me, godfather. "

"What thought was in your mind when you ended your prayers lastevening, and what time was it when you said them. "

"It was a quarter-past or half-past nine. "

"Well, repeat your last prayer. "

The girl fancied that her voice might convey her faith to the sceptic;she slid from his knee and knelt down, clasping her hands fervently; abrilliant light illumined her face as she turned it on the old man andsaid:--

"What I asked of God last night I asked again this morning, and Ishall ask it till he vouchsafes to grant it. "

Then she repeated her prayer with new and still more powerfulexpression. To her great astonishment her godfather took the lastwords from her mouth and finished the prayer. 

"Good, Ursula, " said the doctor, taking her again on his knee. "Whenyou laid your head on the pillow and went to sleep did you think toyourself, 'That dear godfather; I wonder who is playing backgammonwith him in Paris'?"

Ursula sprang up as if the last trumpet had sounded in her ears. Shegave a cry of terror; her eyes, wide open, gazed at the old man withawful fixity. 

"Who are you, godfather? From whom do you get such power?" she asked, imagining that in his desire to deny God he had made some compact withthe devil. 

"What seeds did you plant yesterday in the garden?"

"Mignonette, sweet-peas, balsams--"

"And the last were larkspur?"

She fell on her knees. 

"Do not terrify me!" she exclaimed. "Oh you must have been here--youwere here, were you not?"

"Am I not always with you?" replied the doctor, evading her question, to save the strain on the young girl's mind. "Let us go to your room. "

"Your legs are trembling, " she said. 

"Yes, I am confounded, as it were. "

"Can it be that you believe in God?" she cried, with artless joy, letting fall the tears that gathered in her eyes. 

The old man looked round the simple but dainty little room he hadgiven to his Ursula. On the floor was a plain green carpet, veryinexpensive, which she herself kept exquisitely clean; the walls werehung with a gray paper strewn with roses and green leaves; at thewindows, which looked to the court, were calico curtains edged with aband of some pink material; between the windows and beneath a tallmirror was a pier-table topped with marble, on which stood a Sevresvase in which she put her nosegays; opposite the chimney was a littlebureau-desk of charming marquetry. The bed, of chintz, with chintzcurtains lined with pink, was one of those duchess beds so common inthe eighteenth century, which had a tuft of carved feathers at the topof each of the four posts, which were fluted on the sides. An oldclock, inclosed in a sort of monument made of tortoise-shell inlaidwith arabesques of ivory, decorated the mantelpiece, the marble shelfof which, with the candlesticks and the mirror in a frame painted incameo on a gray ground, presented a remarkable harmony of color, tone, and style. A large wardrobe, the doors of which were inlaid withlandscapes in different woods (some having a green tint which are nolonger to be found for sale) contained, no doubt, her linen and herdresses. The air of the room was redolent of heaven. The precisearrangement of everything showed a sense of order, a feeling forharmony, which would certainly have influenced any one, even aMinoret-Levrault. It was plain that the things about her were dear toUrsula, and that she loved a room which contained, as it were, herchildhood and the whole of her girlish life. 

Looking the room well over that he might seem to have a reason for hisvisit, the doctor saw at once how the windows looked into those ofMadame de Portenduere. During the night he had meditated as to thecourse he ought to pursue with Ursula about his discovery of thisdawning passion. To question her now would commit him to some course. He must either approve or disapprove of her love; in either case hisposition would be a false one. He therefore resolved to watch andexamine into the state of things between the two young people, andlearn whether it were his duty to check the inclination before it wasirresistible. None but an old man could have shown such deliberatewisdom. Still panting from the discovery of the truth of thesemagnetic facts, he turned about and looked at all the various littlethings around the room; he wished to examine the almanac which washanging at a corner of the chimney-piece. 

"These ugly things are too heavy for your little hands, " he said, taking up the marble candlesticks which were partly covered withleather. 

He weighed them in his hand; then he looked at the almanac and tookit, saying, "This is ugly too. Why do you keep such a common thing inyour pretty room?"

"Oh, please let me have it, godfather. "

"No, no, you shall have another to-morrow. "

So saying he carried off this possible proof, shut himself up in hisstudy, looked for Saint Savinien and found, as the somnambulist hadtold him, a little red dot at the 19th of October; he also saw anotherbefore his own saint's day, Saint Denis, and a third before SaintJohn, the abbe's patron. This little dot, no larger than a pin's head, had been seen by the sleeping woman in spite of distance and otherobstacles! The old man thought till evening of these events, moremomentous for him than for others. He was forced to yield to evidence. A strong wall, as it were, crumbled within him; for his life hadrested on two bases, --indifference in matters of religion and a firmdisbelief in magnetism. When it was proved to him that the senses--faculties purely physical, organs, the effects of which could beexplained--attained to some of the attributes of the infinite, magnetism upset, or at least it seemed to him to upset, the powerfularguments of Spinoza. The finite and the infinite, two incompatibleelements according to that remarkable man, were here united, the onein the other. No matter what power he gave to the divisibility andmobility of matter he could not help recognizing that it possessedqualities that were almost divine. 

He was too old now to connect those phenomena to a system, and comparethem with those of sleep, of vision, of light. His whole scientificbelief, based on the assertions of the school of Locke and Condillac, was in ruins. Seeing his hollow ideas in pieces, his scepticismstaggered. Thus the advantage in this struggle between the Catholicchild and the Voltairean old man was on Ursula's side. In thedismantled fortress, above these ruins, shone a light; from the centerof these ashes issued the path of prayer! Nevertheless, the obstinateold scientist fought his doubts. Though struck to the heart, he wouldnot decide, he struggled on against God. 

But he was no longer the same man; his mind showed its vacillation. Hebecame unnaturally dreamy; he read Pascal, and Bossuet's sublime"History of Species"; he read Bonald, he read Saint-Augustine; hedetermined also to read the works of Swedenborg, and the lateSaint-Martin, which the mysterious stranger had mentioned to him. Theedifice within him was cracking on all sides; it needed but one moreshake, and then, his heart being ripe for God, he was destined to fallinto the celestial vineyard as fall the fruits. Often of an evening, when playing with the abbe, his goddaughter sitting by, he would putquestions bearing on his opinions which seemed singular to the priest, who was ignorant of the inward workings by which God was remaking thatfine conscience. 

"Do you believe in apparitions?" asked the sceptic of the pastor, stopping short in the game. 

"Cardan, a great philosopher of the sixteenth century said he had seensome, " replied the abbe. 

"I know all those that scholars have discussed, for I have just rereadPlotinus. I am questioning you as a Catholic might, and I ask if youthink that dead men can return to the living. "

"Jesus reappeared to his disciples after his death, " said the abbe. "The Church ought to have faith in the apparitions of the Savior. Asfor miracles, they are not lacking, " he continued, smiling. "Shall Itell you the last? It took place in the eighteenth century. "

"Pooh!" said the doctor. 

"Yes, the blessed Marie-Alphonse of Ligouri, being very far from Rome, knew of the death of the Pope at the very moment the Holy Fatherexpired; there were numerous witnesses of this miracle. The saintedbishop being in ecstasy, heard the last words of the sovereign pontiffand repeated them at the time to those about him. The courier whobrought the announcement of the death did not arrive till thirty hourslater. "

"Jesuit!" exclaimed old Minoret, laughing, "I did not ask you forproofs; I asked you if you believed in apparitions. "

"I think an apparition depends a good deal on who sees it, " said theabbe, still fencing with his sceptic. 

"My friend, " said the doctor, seriously, "I am not setting a trap foryou. What do you really believe about it?"

"I believe that the power of God is infinite, " replied the abbe. 

"When I am dead, if I am reconciled to God, I will ask Him to let meappear to you, " said the doctor, smiling. 

"That's exactly the agreement Cardan made with his friend, " answeredthe priest. 

"Ursula, " said Minoret, "if danger ever threatens you, call me, and Iwill come. "

"You have put into one sentence that beautiful elegy of 'Neere' byAndre Chenier, " said the abbe. "Poets are sublime because they clotheboth facts and feelings with ever-living images. "

"Why do you speak of your death, dear godfather?" said Ursula in agrieved tone. "We Christians do not die; the grave is the cradle ofour souls. "

"Well, " said the doctor, smiling, "we must go out of the world, andwhen I am no longer here you will be astonished at your fortune. "

"When you are here no longer, my kind friend, my only consolation willbe to consecrate my life to you. "

"To me, dead?"

"Yes. All the good works that I can do will be done in your name toredeem your sins. I will pray God every day for his infinite mercy, that he may not punish eternally the errors of a day. I know he willsummon among the righteous a soul so pure, so beautiful, as yours. "

That answer, said with angelic candor, in a tone of absolutecertainty, confounded error and converted Denis Minoret as Godconverted Saul. A ray of inward light overawed him; the knowledge ofthis tenderness, covering his years to come, brought tears to hiseyes. This sudden effect of grace had something that seemed electricalabout it. The abbe clasped his hands and rose, troubled, from hisseat. The girl, astonished at her triumph, wept. The old man stood upas if a voice had called him, looking into space as though his eyesbeheld the dawn; then he bent his knee upon his chair, clasped hishands, and lowered his eyes to the ground as one humiliated. 

"My God, " he said in a trembling voice, raising his head, "if any onecan obtain my pardon and lead me to thee, surely it is this spotlesscreature. Have mercy on the repentant old age that this pure childpresents to thee!"

He lifted his soul to God; mentally praying for the light of divineknowledge after the gift of divine grace; then he turned to the abbeand held out his hand. 

"My dear pastor, " he said, "I am become as a little child. I belong toyou; I give my soul to your care. "

Ursula kissed his hands and bathed them with her tears. The old mantook her on his knee and called her gayly his godmother. The abbe, deeply moved, recited the "Veni Creator" in a species of religiousecstasy. The hymn served as the evening prayer of the three Christianskneeling together for the first time. 

"What has happened?" asked La Bougival, amazed at the sight. 

"My godfather believes in God at last!" replied Ursula. 

"Ah! so much the better; he only needed that to make him perfect, "cried the old woman, crossing herself with artless gravity. 

"Dear doctor, " said the good priest, "you will soon comprehend thegrandeur of religion and the value of its practices; you will find itsphilosophy in human aspects far higher than that of the boldestsceptics. "

The abbe, who showed a joy that was almost infantine, agreed tocatechize the old man and confer with him twice a week. Thus theconversion attributed to Ursula and to a spirit of sordid calculation, was the spontaneous act of the doctor himself. The abbe, who forfourteen years had abstained from touching the wounds of that heart, though all the while deploring them, was now asked for help, as asurgeon is called to an injured man. Ever since this scene Ursula'sevening prayers had been said in common with her godfather. Day afterday the old man grew more conscious of the peace within him thatsucceeded all his conflicts. Having, as he said, God as theresponsible editor of things inexplicable, his mind was at ease. Hisdear child told him that he might know by how far he had advancedalready in God's kingdom. During the mass which we have seen himattend, he had read the prayers and applied his own intelligence tothem; from the first, he had risen to the divine idea of the communionof the faithful. The old neophyte understood the eternal symbolattached to that sacred nourishment, which faith renders needful tothe soul after conveying to it her own profound and radiant essence. When on leaving the church he had seemed in a hurry to get home, itwas merely that he might once more thank his dear child for having ledhim to "enter religion, "--the beautiful expression of former days. Hewas holding her on his knee in the salon and kissing her foreheadsacredly at the very moment when his relatives were degrading thatsaintly influence with their shameless fears, and casting their vulgarinsults upon Ursula. His haste to return home, his assumed disdain fortheir company, his sharp replies as he left the church were naturallyattributed by all the heirs to the hatred Ursula had excited againstthem in the old man's mind. 

 CHAPTER VIII

 THE CONFERENCE

While Ursula was playing variations on Weber's "Last Thought" to hergodfather, a plot was hatching in the Minoret-Levraults' dining-roomwhich was destined to have a lasting effect on the events of thisdrama. The breakfast, noisy as all provincial breakfasts are, andenlivened by excellent wines brought to Nemours by the canal eitherfrom Burgundy or Touraine, lasted more than two hours. Zelie had sentfor oysters, salt-water fish, and other gastronomical delicacies to dohonor to Desire's return. The dining-room, in the center of which around table offered a most appetizing sight, was like the hall of aninn. Content with the size of her kitchens and offices, Zelie hadbuilt a pavilion for the family between the vast courtyard and agarden planted with vegetables and full of fruit-trees. Everythingabout the premises was solid and plain. The example ofLevrault-Levrault had been a warning to the town. Zelie forbade herbuilder to lead her into such follies. The dining-room was, therefore, hung with varnished paper and furnished with walnut chairs andsideboards, a porcelain stove, a tall clock, and a barometer. Thoughthe plates and dishes were of common white china, the table shone withhandsome linen and abundant silverware. After Zelie had served thecoffee, coming and going herself like shot in a decanter, --for she keptbut one servant, --and when Desire, the budding lawyer, had been toldof the event of the morning and its probably consequences, the door wasclosed, and the notary Dionis was called upon to speak. By the silencein the room and the looks that were cast on that authoritative face, itwas easy to see the power that such men exercise over families. 

"My dear children, " said he, "your uncle having been born in 1746, iseighty-three years old at the present time; now, old men are given tofolly, and that little--"

"Viper!" cried Madame Massin. 

"Hussy!" said Zelie. 

"Let us call her by her own name, " said Dionis. 

"Well, she's a thief, " said Madame Cremiere. 

"A pretty thief, " remarked Desire. 

"That little Ursula, " went on Dionis, "has managed to get hold of hisheart. I have been thinking of your interests, and I did not waituntil now before making certain inquiries; now this is what I havediscovered about that young--"

"Marauder, " said the collector. 

"Inveigler, " said the clerk of the court. 

"Hold your tongue, friends, " said the notary, "or I'll take my hat andbe off. "

"Come, come, papa, " cried Minoret, pouring out a little glass of rumand offering it to the notary; "here, drink this, it comes from Romeitself; and now go on. "

"Ursula is, it is true, the legitimate daughter of Joseph Mirouet; buther father was the natural son of Valentin Mirouet, your uncle'sfather-in-law. Being therefore an illegitimate niece, any will thedoctor might make in her favor could probably be contested; and if heleaves her his fortune in that way you could bring a suit againstUrsula. This, however, might turn out ill for you, in case the courttook the view that there was no relationship between Ursula and thedoctor. Still, the suit would frighten an unprotected girl, and bringabout a compromise--"

"The law is so rigid as to the rights of natural children, " said thenewly fledged licentiate, eager to parade his knowledge, "that by thejudgment of the court of appeals dated July 7, 1817, a natural childcan claim nothing from his natural grandfather, not even amaintenance. So you see the illegitimate parentage is maderetrospective. The law pursues the natural child even to itslegitimate descent, on the ground that benefactions done tograndchildren reach the natural son through that medium. This is shownby articles 757, 908, and 911 of the civil Code. The royal court ofParis, by a decision of the 26th of January of last year, cut off alegacy made to the legitimate child of a natural son by hisgrandfather, who, as grandfather, was as distant to a natural grandsonas the doctor, being an uncle, is to Ursula. "

"All that, " said Goupil, "seems to me to relate only to the bequestsmade by grandfathers to natural descendants. Ursula is not a bloodrelation of Doctor Minoret. I remember a decision of the royal courtat Colmar, rendered in 1825, just before I took my degree, whichdeclared that after the decease of a natural child his descendantscould no longer be prohibited from inheriting. Now, Ursula's father isdead. "

Goupil's argument produced what journalists who report the sittings oflegislative assemblies are wont to call "profound sensation. "

"What does that signify?" cried Dionis. "The actual case of thebequest of an uncle to an illegitimate child may not yet have beenpresented for trial; but when it is, the sternness of French lawagainst such children will be all the more firmly applied because welive in times when religion is honored. I'll answer for it that out ofsuch a suit as I propose you could get a compromise, --especially ifthey see you are determined to carry Ursula to a court of appeals. "

Here the joy of the heirs already fingering their gold was mademanifest in smiles, shrugs, and gestures round the table, andprevented all notice of Goupil's dissent. This elation, however, wassucceeded by deep silence and uneasiness when the notary uttered hisnext word, a terrible "But!"

As if he had pulled the string of a puppet-show, starting the littlepeople in jerks by means of machinery, Dionis beheld all eyes turnedon him and all faces rigid in one and the same pose. 

"_But_ no law prevents your uncle from adopting or marrying Ursula, " hecontinued. "As for adoption, that could be contested, and you would, Ithink, have equity on your side. The royal courts would never triflewith questions of adoptions; you would get a hearing there. It is truethe doctor is an officer of the Legion of honor, and was formerlysurgeon to the ex-emperor; but, nevertheless, he would get the worstof it. Moreover, you would have due warning in case of adoption--buthow about marriage? Old Minoret is shrewd enough to go to Paris andmarry her after a year's domicile, and give her a million by themarriage contract. The only thing, therefore, that really puts yourproperty in danger is your uncle's marriage with the girl. "

Here the notary paused. 

"There's another danger, " said Goupil, with a knowing air, --"that of awill made in favor of a third person, old Bongrand for instance, whowill hold the property in trust for Mademoiselle Ursula--"

"If you tease your uncle, " continued Dionis, cutting short hishead-clerk, "if you are not all of you very polite to Ursula, you willdrive him into either a marriage or into making that private trustwhich Goupil speaks of, --though I don't think him capable of that; itis a dangerous thing. As for marriage, that is easy to prevent. Desirethere has only got to hold out a finger to the girl; she's sure toprefer a handsome young man, cock of the walk in Nemours, to an oldone. "

"Mother, " said Desire to Zelie's ear, as much allured by the millionsas by Ursula's beauty, "If I married her we should get the wholeproperty. "

"Are you crazy?--you, who'll some day have fifty thousand francs ayear and be made a deputy! As long as I live you never shall cut yourthroat by a foolish marriage. Seven hundred thousand francs, indeed!Why, the mayor's only daughter will have fifty thousand a year, andthey have already proposed her to me--"

This reply, the first rough speech his mother had ever made to him, extinguished in Desire's breast all desire for a marriage with thebeautiful Ursula; for his father and he never got the better of anydecision once written in the terrible blue eyes of Zelie Minoret. 

"Yes, but see here, Monsieur Dionis, " cried Cremiere, whose wife hadbeen nudging him, "if the good man took the thing seriously andmarried his goddaughter to Desire, giving her the reversion of all theproperty, good-by to our share in it; if he lives five years longeruncle may be worth a million. "

"Never!" cried Zelie, "never in my life shall Desire marry thedaughter of a bastard, a girl picked up in the streets out of charity. My son will represent the Minorets after the death of his uncle, andthe Minorets have five hundred years of good bourgeoisie behind them. That's equal to the nobility. Don't be uneasy, any of you; Desire willmarry when we find a chance to put him in the Chamber of deputies. "

This lofty declaration was backed by Goupil, who said:--

"Desire, with an allowance of twenty-four thousand francs a year, willbe president of a royal court or solicitor-general; either officeleads to the peerage. A foolish marriage would ruin him. "

The heirs were now all talking at once; but they suddenly held theirtongues when Minoret rapped on the table with his fist to keep silencefor the notary. 

"Your uncle is a worthy man, " continued Dionis. "He believes he'simmortal; and, like most clever men, he'll let death overtake himbefore he has made a will. My advice therefore is to induce him toinvest his capital in a way that will make it difficult for him todisinherit you, and I know of an opportunity, made to hand. Thatlittle Portenduere is in Saint-Pelagie, locked-up for one hundred andsome odd thousand francs' worth of debt. His old mother knows he is inprison; she is crying like a Magdalen. The abbe is to dine with her;no doubt she wants to talk to him about her troubles. Well, I'll goand see your uncle to-night and persuade him to sell his five per centconsols, which are now at 118, and lend Madame de Portenduere, on thesecurity of her farm at Bordieres and her house here, enough to paythe debts of the prodigal son. I have a right as notary to speak tohim in behalf of young Portenduere; and it is quite natural that Ishould wish to make him change his investments; I get deeds andcommissions out of the business. If I become his adviser I'll proposeto him other land investments for his surplus capital; I have someexcellent ones now in my office. If his fortune were once invested inlanded estate or in mortgage notes in this neighbourhood, it could nottake wings to itself very easily. It is easy to make difficultiesbetween the wish to realize and the realization. "

The heirs, struck with the truth of this argument (much cleverer thanthat of Monsieur Josse), murmured approval. 

"You must be careful, " said the notary in conclusion, "to keep youruncle in Nemours, where his habits are known, and where you can watchhim. Find him a lover for the girl and you'll prevent his marrying herhimself. "

"Suppose she married the lover?" said Goupil, seized by an ambitiousdesire. 

"That wouldn't be a bad thing; then you could figure up the loss; theold man would have to say how much he gives her, " replied the notary. "But if you set Desire at her he could keep the girl dangling on tillthe old man died. Marriages are made and unmade. "

"The shortest way, " said Goupil, "if the doctor is likely to live muchlonger, is to marry her to some worthy young man who will get her outof your way by settling at Sens, or Montargis, or Orleans with ahundred thousand francs in hand. "

Dionis, Massin, Zelie, and Goupil, the only intelligent heads in thecompany, exchanged four thoughtful smiles. 

"He'd be a worm at the core, " whispered Zelie to Massin. 

"How did he get here?" returned the clerk. 

"That will just suit you!" cried Desire to Goupil. "But do you thinkyou can behave decently enough to satisfy the old man and the girl?"

"In these days, " whispered Zelie again in Massin's year, "notarieslook out for no interests but their own. Suppose Dionis went over toUrsula just to get the old man's business?"

"I am sure of him, " said the clerk of the court, giving her a sly lookout of his spiteful little eyes. He was just going to add, "because Ihold something over him, " but he withheld the words. 

"I am quite of Dionis's opinion, " he said aloud. 

"So am I, " cried Zelie, who now suspected the notary of collusion withthe clerk. 

"My wife has voted!" said the post master, sipping his brandy, thoughhis face was already purple from digesting his meal and absorbing anotable quantity of liquids. 

"And very properly, " remarked the collector. 

"I shall go and see the doctor after dinner, " said Dionis. 

"If Monsieur Dionis's advice is good, " said Madame Cremiere to MadameMassin, "we had better go and call on our uncle, as we used to do, every Sunday evening, and behave exactly as Monsieur Dionis has toldus. "

"Yes, and be received as he received us!" cried Zelie. "Minoret and Ihave more than forty thousand francs a year, and yet he refused ourinvitations! We are quite his equals. If I don't know how to writeprescriptions I know how to paddle my boat as well as he--I can tellhim that!"

"As I am far from having forty thousand francs a year, " said MadameMassin, rather piqued, "I don't want to lose ten thousand. "

"We are his nieces; we ought to take care of him, and then besides weshall see how things are going, " said Madame Cremiere; "you'll thankus some day, cousin. "

"Treat Ursula kindly, " said the notary, lifting his right forefingerto the level of his lips; "remember old Jordy left her his savings. "

"You have managed those fools as well as Desroches, the best lawyer inParis, could have done, " said Goupil to his patron as they left thepost-house. 

"And now they are quarreling over my fee, " replied the notary, smilingbitterly. 

The heirs, after parting with Dionis and his clerk, met again in thesquare, with face rather flushed from their breakfast, just as vesperswere over. As the notary predicted, the Abbe Chaperon had Madame dePortenduere on his arm. 

"She dragged him to vespers, see!" cried Madame Massin to MadameCremiere, pointing to Ursula and the doctor, who were leaving thechurch. 

"Let us go and speak to him, " said Madame Cremiere, approaching theold man. 

The change in the faces of his relatives (produced by the conference)did not escape Doctor Minoret. He tried to guess the reason of thissudden amiability, and out of sheer curiosity encouraged Ursula tostop and speak to the two women, who were eager to greet her withexaggerated affection and forced smiles. 

"Uncle, will you permit me to come and see you to-night?" said MadameCremiere. "We feared sometimes we were in your way--but it is such along time since our children have paid you their respects; our girlsare old enough now to make dear Ursula's acquaintance. "

"Ursula is a little bear, like her name, " replied the doctor. 

"Let us tame her, " said Madame Massin. "And besides, uncle, " added thegood housewife, trying to hide her real motive under a mask ofeconomy, "they tell us the dear girl has such talent for the fortethat we are very anxious to hear her. Madame Cremiere and I areinclined to take her music-master for our children. If there were sixor eight scholars in a class it would bring the price of his lessonswithin our means. "

"Certainly, " said the old man, "and it will be all the better for mebecause I want to give Ursula a singing-master. "

"Well, to-night then, uncle. We will bring your great-nephew Desire tosee you; he is now a lawyer. "

"Yes, to-night, " echoed Minoret, meaning to fathom the motives ofthese petty souls. 

The two nieces pressed Ursula's hand, saying, with affected eagerness, "Au revoir. "

"Oh, godfather, you have read my heart!" cried Ursula, giving him agrateful look. 

"You are going to have a voice, " he said; "and I shall give youmasters of drawing and Italian also. A woman, " added the doctor, looking at Ursula as he unfastened the gate of his house, "ought to beeducated to the height of every position in which her marriage mayplace her. "

Ursula grew red as a cherry; her godfather's thoughts evidently turnedin the same direction as her own. Feeling that she was too nearconfessing to the doctor the involuntary attraction which led her tothink about Savinien and to center all her ideas of affection uponhim, she turned aside and sat down in front of a great cluster ofclimbing plants, on the dark background of which she looked at adistance like a blue and white flower. 

"Now you see, godfather, that your nieces were very kind to me; yes, they were very kind, " she repeated as he approached her, to change thethoughts that made him pensive. 

"Poor little girl!" cried the old man. 

He laid Ursula's hand upon his arm, tapping it gently, and took her tothe terraces beside the river, where no one could hear them. 

"Why do you say, 'Poor little girl'?"

"Don't you see how they fear you?"

"Fear me, --why?"

"My next of kin are very uneasy about my conversion. They no doubtattribute it to your influence over me; they fancy I deprive them oftheir inheritance to enrich you. "

"But you won't do that?" said Ursula naively, looking up at him. 

"Oh, divine consolation of my old age!" said the doctor, taking hisgodchild in his arms and kissing her on both cheeks. "It was for herand not for myself, oh God! that I besought thee just now to let melive until the day I give her to some good being who is worthy of her!--You will see comedies, my little angel, comedies which the Minoretsand Cremieres and Massins will come and play here. You want tobrighten and prolong my life; they are longing for my death. "

"God forbids us to hate any one, but if that is-- Ah! I despise them!"exclaimed Ursula. 

"Dinner is ready!" called La Bougival from the portico, which, on thegarden side, was at the end of the corridor. 

 CHAPTER IX

 A FIRST CONFIDENCE

Ursula and her godfather were sitting at dessert in the prettydining-room decorated with Chinese designs in black and gold lacquer(the folly of Levrault-Levrault) when the justice of peace arrived. Thedoctor offered him (and this was a great mark of intimacy) a cup ofhis coffee, a mixture of Mocha with Bourbon and Martinique, roasted, ground, and made by himself in a silver apparatus called a Chaptal. 

"Well, " said Bongrand, pushing up his glasses and looking slyly at theold man, "the town is in commotion; your appearance in church has putyour relatives beside themselves. You have left your fortune to thepriests, to the poor. You have roused the families, and they arebestirring themselves. Ha! ha! I saw their first irruption into thesquare; they were as busy as ants who have lost their eggs. "

"What did I tell you, Ursula?" cried the doctor. "At the risk ofgrieving you, my child, I must teach you to know the world and put youon your guard against undeserved enmity. "

"I should like to say a word to you on this subject, " said Bongrand, seizing the occasion to speak to his old friend of Ursula's future. 

The doctor put a black velvet cap on his white head, the justice ofpeace wore his hat to protect him from the night air, and they walkedup and down the terrace discussing the means of securing to Ursulawhat her godfather intended to bequeath her. Bongrand knew Dionis'sopinion as to the invalidity of a will made by the doctor in favor ofUrsula; for Nemours was so preoccupied with the Minoret affairs thatthe matter had been much discussed among the lawyers of the littletown. Bongrand considered that Ursula was not a relative of DoctorMinoret, but he felt that the whole spirit of legislation was againstthe foisting into families of illegitimate off-shoots. The makers ofthe Code had foreseen only the weakness of fathers and mothers fortheir natural children, without considering that uncles and auntsmight have a like tenderness and a desire to provide for suchchildren. Evidently there was a gap in the law. 

"In all other countries, " he said, ending an explanation of the legalpoints which Dionis, Goupil, and Desire had just explained to theheirs, "Ursula would have nothing to fear; she is a legitimate child, and the disability of her father ought only to affect the inheritancefrom Valentine Mirouet, her grandfather. But in France the magistracyis unfortunately overwise and very consequential; it inquires into thespirit of the law. Some lawyers talk morality, and might try to showthat this hiatus in the Code came from the simple-mindedness of thelegislators, who did not foresee the case, though, none the less, theyestablished a principle. To bring a suit would be long and expensive. Zelie would carry it to the court of appeals, and I might not be alivewhen the case was tried. "

"The best of cases is often worthless, " cried the doctor. "Here's thequestion the lawyers will put, 'To what degree of relationship oughtthe disability of natural children in matters of inheritance toextend?' and the credit of a good lawyer will lie in gaining a badcause. "

"Faith!" said Bongrand, "I dare not take upon myself to affirm thatthe judges wouldn't interpret the meaning of the law as increasing theprotection given to marriage, the eternal base of society. "

Without explaining his intentions, the doctor rejected the idea of atrust. When Bongrand suggested to him a marriage with Ursula as thesurest means of securing his property to her, he exclaimed, "Poorlittle girl! I might live fifteen years; what a fate for her!"

"Well, what will you do, then?" asked Bongrand. 

"We'll think about it--I'll see, " said the old man, evidently at aloss for a reply. 

Just then Ursula came to say that Monsieur Dionis wished to speak tothe doctor. 

"Already!" cried Minoret, looking at Bongrand. "Yes, " he said toUrsula, "send him here. "

"I'll bet my spectacles to a bunch of matches that he is theadvance-guard of your heirs, " said Bongrand. "They breakfastedtogether at the post house, and something is being engineered. "

The notary, conducted by Ursula, came to the lower end of the garden. After the usual greetings and a few insignificant remarks, Dionisasked for a private interview; Ursula and Bongrand retired to thesalon. 

The distrust which superior men excite in men of business is veryremarkable. The latter deny them the "lesser" powers while recognizingtheir possession of the "higher. " It is, perhaps, a tribute to them. Seeing them always on the higher plane of human things, men ofbusiness believe them incapable of descending to the infinitely pettydetails which (like the dividends of finance and the microscopic factsof science) go to equalize capital and to form the worlds. They aremistaken! The man of honor and of genius sees all. Bongrand, piqued bythe doctor's silence, but impelled by a sense of Ursula's interestswhich he thought endangered, resolved to defend her against the heirs. He was wretched at not knowing what was taking place between the oldman and Dionis. 

"No matter how pure and innocent Ursula may be, " he thought as helooked at her, "there is a point on which young girls do make theirown law and their own morality. I'll test here. The Minoret-Levraults, "he began, settling his spectacles, "might possibly ask you in marriagefor their son. "

The poor child turned pale. She was too well trained, and had too muchdelicacy to listen to what Dionis was saying to her uncle; but after amoment's inward deliberation, she thought she might show herself, andthen, if she was in the way, her godfather would let her know it. TheChinese pagoda which the doctor made his study had outside blinds tothe glass doors; Ursula invented the excuse of shutting them. Shebegged Monsieur Bongrand's pardon for leaving him alone in the salon, but he smiled at her and said, "Go! go!"

Ursula went down the steps of the portico which led to the pagoda atthe foot of the garden. She stood for some minutes slowly arrangingthe blinds and watching the sunset. The doctor and notary were at theend of the terrace, but as they turned she heard the doctor make ananswer which reached the pagoda where she was. 

"My heirs would be delighted to see me invest my property in realestate or mortgages; they imagine it would be safer there. I knowexactly what they are saying; perhaps you come from them. Let me tellyou, my good sir, that my disposition of my property is irrevocablymade. My heirs will have the capital I brought here with me; I wishthem to know that, and to let me alone. If any one of them attempts tointerfere with what I think proper to do for that young girl (pointingto Ursula) I shall come back from the other world and torment him. So, Monsieur Savinien de Portenduere will stay in prison if they count onme to get him out. I shall not sell my property in the Funds. "

Hearing this last fragment of the sentence Ursula experienced thefirst and only pain which so far had ever touched her. She laid herhead against the blind to steady herself. 

"Good God, what is the matter with her?" thought the old doctor. "Shehas no color; such an emotion after dinner might kill her. "

He went to her with open arms, and she fell into them almost fainting. 

"Adieu, Monsieur, " he said to the notary, "please leave us. "

He carried his child to an immense Louis XV. Sofa which was in hisstudy, looked for a phial of hartshorn among his remedies, and madeher inhale it. 

"Take my place, " said the doctor to Bongrand, who was terrified; "Imust be alone with her. "

The justice of peace accompanied the notary to the gate, asking him, but without showing any eagerness, what was the matter with Ursula. 

"I don't know, " replied Dionis. "She was standing by the pagoda, listening to us, and just as her uncle (so-called) refused to lendsome money at my request to young de Portenduere who is in prison fordebt, --for he has not had, like Monsieur du Rouvre, a MonsieurBongrand to defend him, --she turned pale and staggered. Can she lovehim? Is there anything between them?"

"At fifteen years of age? pooh!" replied Bongrand. 

"She was born in February, 1813; she'll be sixteen in four months. "

"I don't believe she ever saw him, " said the judge. "No, it is only anervous attack. "

"Attack of the heart, more likely, " said the notary. 

Dionis was delighted with this discovery, which would prevent themarriage "in extremis" which they dreaded, --the only sure means bywhich the doctor could defraud his relatives. Bongrand, on the otherhand, saw a private castle of his own demolished; he had long thoughtof marrying his son to Ursula. 

"If the poor girl loves that youth it will be a misfortune for her, "replied Bongrand after a pause. "Madame de Portenduere is a Breton andinfatuated with her noble blood. "

"Luckily--I mean for the honor of the Portendueres, " replied thenotary, on the point of betraying himself. 

Let us do the faithful and upright Bongrand the justice to say thatbefore he re-entered the salon he had abandoned, not without deepregret for his son, the hope he had cherished of some day callingUrsula his daughter. He meant to give his son six thousand francs ayear the day he was appointed substitute, and if the doctor would giveUrsula a hundred thousand francs what a pearl of a home the pair wouldmake! His Eugene was so loyal and charming a fellow! Perhaps he hadpraised his Eugene too often, and that had made the doctordistrustful. 

"I shall have to come down to the mayor's daughter, " he thought. "But Ursula without any money is worth more than MademoiselleLevrault-Cremiere with a million. However, the thing to be done isto manoeuvre the marriage with this little Portenduere--if she reallyloves him. "

The doctor, after closing the door to the library and that to thegarden, took his goddaughter to the window which opened upon theriver. 

"What ails you, my child?" he said. "Your life is my life. Withoutyour smiles what would become of me?"

"Savinien in prison!" she said. 

With these words a shower of tears fell from her eyes and she began tosob. 

"Saved!" thought the doctor, who was holding her pulse with greatanxiety. "Alas! she has all the sensitiveness of my poor wife, " hethought, fetching a stethoscope which he put to Ursula's heart, applying his ear to it. "Ah, that's all right, " he said to himself. "Idid not know, my darling, that you loved any one as yet, " he added, looking at her; "but think out loud to me as you think to yourself;tell me all that has passed between you. "

"I do not love him, godfather; we have never spoken to each other, "she answered, sobbing. "But to hear that he is in prison, and to knowthat you--harshly--refused to get him out--you, so good!"

"Ursula, my dear little good angel, if you do not love him why did youput that little red dot against Saint Savinien's day just as you putone before that of Saint Denis? Come, tell me everything about yourlittle love-affair. "

Ursula blushed, swallowed a few tears, and for a moment there wassilence between them. 

"Surely you are not afraid of your father, your friend, mother, doctor, and godfather, whose heart is now more tender than it ever hasbeen. "

"No, no, dear godfather, " she said. "I will open my heart to you. LastMay, Monsieur Savinien came to see his mother. Until then I had nevertaken notice of him. When he left home to live in Paris I was a child, and I did not see any difference between him and--all of you--exceptperhaps that I loved you, and never thought of loving any one else. Monsieur Savinien came by the mail-post the night before his mother'sfete-day; but we did not know it. At seven the next morning, after Ihad said my prayers, I opened the window to air my room and I saw thewindows in Monsieur Savinien's room open; and Monsieur Savinien wasthere, in a dressing gown, arranging his beard; in all his movementsthere was such grace--I mean, he seemed to me so charming. He combedhis black moustache and the little tuft on his chin, and I saw hiswhite throat--so round!--must I tell you all? I noticed that histhroat and face and that beautiful black hair were all so differentfrom yours when I watch you arranging your beard. There came--I don'tknow how--a sort of glow into my heart, and up into my throat, myhead; it came so violently that I sat down--I couldn't stand, Itrembled so. But I longed to see him again, and presently I got up; hesaw me then, and, just for play, he sent me a kiss from the tips ofhis fingers and--"

"And?"

"And then, " she continued, "I hid myself--I was ashamed, but happy--why should I be ashamed of being happy? That feeling--it dazzled mysoul and gave it some power, but I don't know what--it came again eachtime I saw within me the same young face. I loved this feeling, violent as it was. Going to mass, some unconquerable power made melook at Monsieur Savinien with his mother on his arm; his walk, hisclothes, even the tap of his boots on the pavement, seemed to me socharming. The least little thing about him--his hand with the delicateglove--acted like a spell upon me; and yet I had strength enough notto think of him during mass. When the service was over I stayed in thechurch to let Madame de Portenduere go first, and then I walked behindhim. I couldn't tell you how these little things excited me. When Ireached home, I turned round to fasten the iron gate--"

"Where was La Bougival?" asked the doctor. 

"Oh, I let her go to the kitchen, " said Ursula simply. "Then I sawMonsieur Savinien standing quite still and looking at me. Oh!godfather, I was so proud, for I thought I saw a look in his eyes ofsurprise and admiration--I don't know what I would not do to make himlook at me again like that. It seemed to me I ought to think ofnothing forevermore but pleasing him. That glance is now the bestreward I have for any good I do. From that moment I have thought ofhim incessantly, in spite of myself. Monsieur Savinien went back toParis that evening, and I have not seen him since. The street seemsempty; he took my heart away with him--but he does not know it. "

"Is that all?" asked the old man. 

"All, dear godfather, " she said, with a sigh of regret that there wasnot more to tell. 

"My little girl, " said the doctor, putting her on his knee; "you arenearly sixteen and your womanhood is beginning. You are now betweenyour blessed childhood, which is ending, and the emotions of love, which will make your life a tumultuous one; for you have a nervoussystem of exquisite sensibility. What has happened to you, my child, is love, " said the old man with an expression of deepest sadness, --"love in its holy simplicity; love as it ought to be; involuntary, sudden, coming like a thief who takes all--yes, all! I expected it. Ihave studied women; many need proofs and miracles of affection beforelove conquers them; but others there are, under the influence ofsympathies explainable to-day by magnetic fluids, who are possessed byit in an instant. To you I can now tell all--as soon as I saw thecharming woman whose name you bear, I felt that I should love herforever, solely and faithfully, without knowing whether our charactersor persons suited each other. Is there a second-sight in love? Whatanswer can I give to that, I who have seen so many unions formed undercelestial auspices only to be ruptured later, giving rise to hatredsthat are well-nigh eternal, to repugnances that are unconquerable. Thesenses sometimes harmonize while ideas are at variance; and somepersons live more by their minds than by their bodies. The contrary isalso true; often minds agree and persons displease. These phenomena, the varying and secret cause of many sorrows, show the wisdom of lawswhich give parents supreme power over the marriages of their children;for a young girl is often duped by one or other of thesehallucinations. Therefore I do not blame you. The sensations you feel, the rush of sensibility which has come from its hidden source uponyour heart and upon your mind, the happiness with which you think ofSavinien, are all natural. But, my darling child, society demands, asour good abbe has told us, the sacrifice of many natural inclinations. The destinies of men and women differ. I was able to choose UrsulaMirouet for my wife; I could go to her and say that I loved her; but ayoung girl is false to herself if she asks the love of the man sheloves. A woman has not the right which men have to seek theaccomplishment of her hopes in open day. Modesty is to her--above allto you, my Ursula, --the insurmountable barrier which protects thesecrets of her heart. Your hesitation in confiding to me these firstemotions shows me you would suffer cruel torture rather than admit toSavinien--"

"Oh, yes!" she said. 

"But, my child, you must do more. You must repress these feelings; youmust forget them. "

"Why?"

"Because, my darling, you must love only the man you marry; and, evenif Monsieur Savinien de Portenduere loved you--"

"I never thought of it. "

"But listen: even if he loved you, even if his mother asked me to givehim your hand, I should not consent to the marriage until I hadsubjected him to a long and thorough probation. His conduct has beensuch as to make families distrust him and to put obstacles betweenhimself and heiresses which cannot be easily overcome. "

A soft smile came in place of tears on Ursula's sweet face as shesaid, "Then poverty is good sometimes. "

The doctor could find no answer to such innocence. 

"What has he done, godfather?" she asked. 

"In two years, my treasure, he has incurred one hundred and twentythousand francs of debt. He has had the folly to get himself locked upin Saint-Pelagie, the debtor's prison; an impropriety which willalways be, in these days, a discredit to him. A spendthrift who iswilling to plunge his poor mother into poverty and distress mightcause his wife, as your poor father did, to die of despair. "

"Don't you think he will do better?" she asked. 

"If his mother pays his debts he will be penniless, and I don't know aworse punishment than to be a nobleman without means. "

This answer made Ursula thoughtful; she dried her tears, and said:--

"If you can save him, save him, godfather; that service will give youa right to advise him; you can remonstrate--"

"Yes, " said the doctor, imitating her, "and then he can come here, andthe old lady will come here, and we shall see them, and--"

"I was thinking only of him, " said Ursula, blushing. 

"Don't think of him, my child; it would be folly, " said the doctorgravely. "Madame de Portenduere, who was a Kergarouet, would neverconsent, even if she had to live on three hundred francs a year, tothe marriage of her son, the Vicomte Savinien de Portenduere, withwhom?--with Ursula Mirouet, daughter of a bandsman in a regiment, without money, and whose father--alas! I must now tell you all--wasthe bastard son of an organist, my father-in-law. "

"O godfather! you are right; we are equal only in the sight of God. Iwill not think of him again--except in my prayers, " she said, amid thesobs which this painful revelation excited. "Give him what you meantto give me--what can a poor girl like me want?--ah, in prison, he!--"

"Offer to God your disappointments, and perhaps he will help us. "

There was silence for some minutes. When Ursula, who at first did notdare to look at her godfather, raised her eyes, her heart was deeplymoved to see the tears which were rolling down his withered cheeks. The tears of old men are as terrible as those of children are natural. 

"Oh what is it?" cried Ursula, flinging herself at his feet andkissing his hands. "Are you not sure of me?"

"I, who longed to gratify all your wishes, it is I who am obliged tocause the first great sorrow of your life!" he said. "I suffer as muchas you. I never wept before, except when I lost my children--and, Ursula-- Yes, " he cried suddenly, "I will do all you desire!"

Ursula gave him, through her tears a look that was vivid as lightning. She smiled. 

"Let us go into the salon, darling, " said the doctor. "Try to keep thesecret of all this to yourself, " he added, leaving her alone for amoment in his study. 

He felt himself so weak before that heavenly smile that he feared hemight say a word of hope and thus mislead her. 

 CHAPTER X

 THE FAMILY OF PORTENDUERE

Madame de Portenduere was at this moment alone with the abbe in herfrigid little salon on the ground floor, having finished the recitalof her troubles to the good priest, her only friend. She held in herhand some letters which he had just returned to her after readingthem; these letters had brought her troubles to a climax. Seated onher sofa beside a square table covered with the remains of a dessert, the old lady was looking at the abbe, who sat on the other side of thetable, doubled up in his armchair and stroking his chin with thegesture common to valets on the stage, mathematicians, and priests, --asign of profound meditation on a problem that was difficult to solve. 

This little salon, lighted by two windows on the street and finishedwith a wainscot painted gray, was so damp that the lower panels showedthe geometrical cracks of rotten wood when the paint no longer bindsit. The red-tiled floor, polished by the old lady's one servant, required, for comfort's sake, before each seat small round mats ofbrown straw, on one of which the abbe was now resting his feet. Theold damask curtains of light green with green flowers were drawn, andthe outside blinds had been closed. Two wax candles lighted the table, leaving the rest of the room in semi-obscurity. Is it necessary to saythat between the two windows was a fine pastel by Latour representingthe famous Admiral de Portenduere, the rival of the Suffren, Guichen, Kergarouet and Simeuse naval heroes? On the paneled wall opposite tothe fireplace were portraits of the Vicomte de Portenduere and of themother of the old lady, a Kergarouet-Ploegat. Savinien's great-unclewas therefore the Vice-admiral de Kergarouet, and his cousin was theComte de Portenduere, grandson of the admiral, --both of them veryrich. 

The Vice-admiral de Kergarouet lived in Paris and the Comte dePortenduere at the chateau of that name in Dauphine. The countrepresented the elder branch, and Savinien was the only scion of theyounger. The count, who was over forty years of age and married to arich wife, had three children. His fortune, increased by variouslegacies, amounted, it was said, to sixty thousand francs a year. Asdeputy from Isere he passed his winters in Paris, where he had boughtthe hotel de Portenduere with the indemnities he obtained under theVillele law. The vice-admiral had recently married his niece bymarriage, for the sole purpose of securing his money to her. 

The faults of the young viscount were therefore likely to cost him thefavor of two powerful protectors. If Savinien had entered the navy, young and handsome as he was, with a famous name, and backed by theinfluence of an admiral and a deputy, he might, at twenty-three yearsof age, been a lieutenant; but his mother, unwilling that her only sonshould go into either naval or military service, had kept him atNemours under the tutelage of one of the Abbe Chaperon's assistants, hoping that she could keep him near her until her death. She meant tomarry him to a demoiselle d'Aiglemont with a fortune of twelvethousand francs a year; to whose hand the name of Portenduere and thefarm at Bordieres enabled him to pretend. This narrow but judiciousplan, which would have carried the family to a second generation, wasalready balked by events. The d'Aiglemonts were ruined, and one of thedaughters, Helene, had disappeared, and the mystery of herdisappearance was never solved. 

The weariness of a life without atmosphere, without prospects, withoutaction, without other nourishment than the love of a son for hismother, so worked upon Savinien that he burst his chains, gentle asthey were, and swore that he would never live in the provinces--comprehending, rather late, that his future fate was not to be in theRue des Bourgeois. At twenty-one years of age he left his mother'shouse to make acquaintance with his relations, and try his luck inParis. The contrast between life in Paris and life in Nemours waslikely to be fatal to a young man of twenty-one, free, with no one tosay him nay, naturally eager for pleasure, and for whom his name andhis connections opened the doors of all the salons. Quite convincedthat his mother had the savings of many years in her strong-box, Savinien soon spent the six thousand francs which she had given him tosee Paris. That sum did not defray his expenses for six months, and hesoon owed double that sum to his hotel, his tailor, his boot maker, tothe man from whom he hired his carriages and horses, to a jeweler, --in short, to all those traders and shopkeepers who contribute to theluxury of young men. 

He had only just succeeded in making himself known, and had scarcelylearned how to converse, how to present himself in a salon, how towear his waistcoats and choose them and to order his coats and tie hiscravat, before he found himself in debt for over thirty thousandfrancs, while still seeking the right phrases in which to declare hislove for the sister of the Marquis de Ronquerolles, the elegant Madamede Serizy, whose youth had been at its climax during the Empire. 

"How is that you all manage?" asked Savinien one day, at the end of agay breakfast with a knot of young dandies, with whom he was intimateas the young men of the present day are intimate with each other, allaiming for the same thing and all claiming an impossible equality. "You were no richer than I and yet you get along without anxiety; youcontrive to maintain yourselves, while as for me I make nothing butdebts. "

"We all began that way, " answered Rastignac, laughing, and the laughwas echoed by Lucien de Rubempre, Maxime de Trailles, Emile Blondet, and others of the fashionable young men of the day. 

"Though de Marsay was rich when he started in life he was anexception, " said the host, a parvenu named Finot, ambitious of seemingintimate with these young men. "Any one but he, " added Finot bowing tothat personage, "would have been ruined by it. "

"A true remark, " said Maxime de Trailles. 

"And a true idea, " added Rastignac. 

"My dear fellow, " said de Marsay, gravely, to Savinien; "debts are thecapital stock of experience. A good university education with tutorsfor all branches, who don't teach you anything, costs sixty thousandfrancs. If the education of the world does cost double, at least itteaches you to understand life, politics, men, --and sometimes women. "

Blondet concluded the lesson by a paraphrase from La Fontaine: "Theworld sells dearly what we think it gives. "

Instead of laying to heart the sensible advice which the cleverestpilots of the Parisian archipelago gave him, Savinien took it all as ajoke. 

"Take care, my dear fellow, " said de Marsay one day. "You have a greatname; if you don't obtain the fortune that name requires you'll endyour days in the uniform of a cavalry-sergeant. 'We have seen the fallof nobler heads, '" he added, declaiming the line of Corneille as hetook Savinien's arm. "About six years ago, " he continued, "a youngComte d'Esgrignon came among us; but he did not stay two years in theparadise of the great world. Alas! he lived and moved like a rocket. He rose to the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse and fell to his native town, where he is now expiating his faults with a wheezy old father and agame of whist at two sous a point. Tell Madame de Serizy yoursituation, candidly, without shame; she will understand it and be veryuseful to you. Whereas, if you play the charade of first love with hershe will pose as a Raffaelle Madonna, practice all the little games ofinnocence upon you, and take you journeying at enormous cost throughthe Land of Sentiment. "

Savinien, still too young and too pure in honor, dared not confess hisposition as to money to Madame de Serizy. At a moment when he knew notwhich way to turn he had written his mother an appealing letter, towhich she replied by sending him the sum of twenty thousand francs, which was all she possessed. This assistance brought him to the closeof the first year. During the second, being harnessed to the chariotof Madame de Serizy, who was seriously taken with him, and who was, asthe saying is, forming him, he had recourse to the dangerous expedientof borrowing. One of his friends, a deputy and the friend of hiscousin the Comte de Portenduere, advised him in his distress to go toGobseck or Gigonnet or Palma, who, if duly informed as to his mother'smeans, would give him an easy discount. Usury and the deceptive helpof renewals enabled him to lead a happy life for nearly eighteenmonths. Without daring to leave Madame de Serizy the poor boy hadfallen madly in love with the beautiful Comtesse de Kergarouet, aprude after the fashion of young women who are awaiting the death ofan old husband and making capital of their virtue in the interests ofa second marriage. Quite incapable of understanding that calculatingvirtue is invulnerable, Savinien paid court to Emilie de Kergarouet inall the splendor of a rich man. He never missed either ball or theaterat which she was present. 

"You haven't powder enough, my boy, to blow up that rock, " said deMarsay, laughing. 

That young king of fashion, who did, out of commiseration for the lad, endeavor to explain to him the nature of Emilie de Fontaine, merelywasted his words; the gloomy lights of misfortune and the twilight ofa prison were needed to convince Savinien. 

A note, imprudently given to a jeweler in collusion with themoney-lenders, who did not wish to have the odium of arresting theyoung man, was the means of sending Savinien de Portenduere, in defaultof one hundred and seventeen thousand francs and without the knowledgeof his friends, to the debtor's prison at Sainte-Pelagie. So soon asthe fact was known Rastignac, de Marsay, and Lucien de Rubempre went tosee him, and each offered him a banknote of a thousand francs whenthey found how really destitute he was. Everything belonging to himhad been seized except the clothes and the few jewels he wore. Thethree young men (who brought an excellent dinner with them) discussedSavinien's situation while drinking de Marsay's wine, ostensibly toarrange for his future but really, no doubt, to judge of him. 

"When a man is named Savinien de Portenduere, " cried Rastignac, "andhas a future peer of France for a cousin and Admiral Kergarouet for agreat-uncle, and commits the enormous blunder of allowing himself tobe put in Sainte-Pelagie, it is very certain that he must not staythere, my good fellow. "

"Why didn't you tell me?" cried de Marsay. "You could have had mytraveling-carriage, ten thousand francs, and letters of introductionfor Germany. We know Gobseck and Gigonnet and the other crocodiles; wecould have made them capitulate. But tell me, in the first place, whatass ever led you to drink of that cursed spring. "

"Des Lupeaulx. "

The three young men looked at each other with one and the same thoughtand suspicion, but they did not utter it. 

"Explain all your resources; show us your hand, " said de Marsay. 

When Savinien had told of his mother and her old-fashioned ways, andthe little house with three windows in the Rue des Bourgeois, withoutother grounds than a court for the well and a shed for the wood; whenhe had valued the house, built of sandstone and pointed in reddishcement, and put a price on the farm at Bordieres, the three dandieslooked at each other, and all three said with a solemn air the word ofthe abbe in Alfred de Musset's "Marrons du feu" (which had then justappeared), --"Sad!"

"Your mother will pay if you write a clever letter, " said Rastignac. 

"Yes, but afterwards?" cried de Marsay. 

"If you had merely been put in the fiacre, " said Lucien, "thegovernment would find you a place in diplomacy, but Saint-Pelagieisn't the antechamber of an embassy. "

"You are not strong enough for Parisian life, " said Rastignac. 

"Let us consider the matter, " said de Marsay, looking Savinien over asa jockey examines a horse. "You have fine blue eyes, well opened, awhite forehead well shaped, magnificent black hair, a little moustachewhich suits those pale cheeks, and a slim figure; you've a foot thattells race, shoulders and chest not quite those of a porter, butsolid. You are what I call an elegant male brunette. Your face is ofthe style Louis XII. , hardly any color, well-formed nose; and you havethe thing that pleases women, a something, I don't know what it is, which men take no account of themselves; it is in the air, the manner, the tone of the voice, the dart of the eye, the gesture, --in short, ina number of little things which women see and to which they attach ameaning which escapes us. You don't know your merits, my dear fellow. Take a certain tone and style and in six months you'll captivate anEnglish-woman with a hundred thousand pounds; but you must callyourself viscount, a title which belongs to you. My charmingstep-mother, Lady Dudley, who has not her equal for matching two hearts, will find you some such woman in the fens of Great Britain. What youmust now do is to get the payment of your debts postponed for ninetydays. Why didn't you tell us about them? The money-lenders at Badenwould have spared you--served you perhaps; but now, after you haveonce been in prison, they'll despise you. A money-lender is, likesociety, like the masses, down on his knees before the man who isstrong enough to trick him, and pitiless to the lambs. To the eyes ofsome persons Sainte-Pelagie is a she-devil who burns the souls ofyoung men. Do you want my candid advice? I shall tell you as I toldthat little d'Esgrignon: 'Arrange to pay your debts leisurely; keepenough to live on for three years, and marry some girl in theprovinces who can bring you an income of thirty thousand francs. ' Inthe course of three years you can surely find some virtuous heiresswho is willing to call herself Madame la Vicomtesse de Portenduere. Such is virtue, --let's drink to it. I give you a toast: 'The girl withmoney!"

The young men did not leave their ex-friend till the official hour forparting. The gate was no sooner closed behind them than they said toeach other: "He's not strong enough!" "He's quite crushed. " "I don'tbelieve he'll pull through it?"

The next day Savinien wrote his mother a confession in twenty-twopages. Madame de Portenduere, after weeping for one whole day, wrotefirst to her son, promising to get him out of prison, and then to theComte de Portenduere and to Admiral Kergarouet. 

The letters the abbe had just read and which the poor mother washolding in her hand and moistening with tears, were the answers to herappeal, which had arrived that morning, and had almost broken herheart. 

Paris, September, 1829. 

To Madame de Portenduere:

Madame, --You cannot doubt the interest which the admiral and Iboth feel in your troubles. What you ask of Monsieur deKergarouet grieves me all the more because our house was a home toyour son; we were proud of him. If Savinien had had moreconfidence in the admiral we could have taken him to live with us, and he would already have obtained some good situation. But, unfortunately, he told us nothing; he ran into debt of his ownaccord, and even involved himself for me, who knew nothing of hispecuniary position. It is all the more to be regretted becauseSavinien has, for the moment, tied our hands by allowing theauthorities to arrest him. 

If my nephew had not shown a foolish passion for me and sacrificedour relationship to the vanity of a lover, we could have sent himto travel in Germany while his affairs were being settled here. Monsieur de Kergarouet intended to get him a place in the Waroffice; but this imprisonment for debt will paralyze such efforts. You must pay his debts; let him enter the navy; he will make hisway like the true Portenduere that he is; he has the fire of thefamily in his beautiful black eyes, and we will all help him. 

Do not be disheartened, madame; you have many friends, among whomI beg you to consider me as one of the most sincere; I send you ourbest wishes, with the respects of

Your very affectionate servant, Emilie de Kergarouet. 

The second letter was as follows:--

Portenduere, August, 1829. 

To Madame de Portenduere:

My dear aunt, --I am more annoyed than surprised at Savinien'spranks. As I am married and the father of two sons and onedaughter, my fortune, already too small for my position andprospects, cannot be lessened to ransom a Portenduere from thehands of the Jews. Sell your farm, pay his debts, and come andlive with us at Portenduere. You shall receive the welcome we oweyou, even though our views may not be entirely in accordance withyours. You shall be made happy, and we will manage to marrySavinien, whom my wife thinks charming. This little outbreak isnothing; do not make yourself unhappy; it will never be known inthis part of the country, where there are a number of rich girlswho would be delighted to enter our family. 

My wife joins me in assuring you of the happiness you would giveus, and I beg you to accept her wishes for the realization of thisplan, together with my affectionate respects. 

Luc-Savinien, Comte de Portenduere. 

"What letters for a Kergarouet to receive!" cried the old Breton lady, wiping her eyes. 

"The admiral does not know his nephew is in prison, " said the AbbeChaperon at last; "the countess alone read your letter, and hasanswered it for him. But you must decide at once on some course, " headded after a pause, "and this is what I have the honor to advise. Donot sell your farm. The lease is just out, having lasted twenty-fouryears; in a few months you can raise the rent to six thousand francsand get a premium for double that amount. Borrow what you need of somehonest man, --not from the townspeople who make a business ofmortgages. Your neighbour here is a most worthy man; a man of goodsociety, who knew it as it was before the Revolution, who was once anatheist, and is now an earnest Catholic. Do not let your feelingsdebar you from going to his house this very evening; he will fullyunderstand the step you take; forget for a moment that you are aKergarouet. "

"Never!" said the old mother, in a sharp voice. 

"Well, then, be an amiable Kergarouet; come when he is alone. He willlend you the money at three and a half per cent, perhaps even at threeper cent, and will do you this service delicately; you will be pleasedwith him. He can go to Paris and release Savinien himself, --for hewill have to go there to sell out his funds, --and he can bring the ladback to you. "

"Are you speaking of that little Minoret?"

"That little Minoret is eighty-three years old, " said the abbe, smiling. "My dear lady, do have a little Christian charity; don'twound him, --he might be useful to you in other ways. "

"What ways?"

"He has an angel in his house; a precious young girl--"

"Oh! that little Ursula. What of that?"

The poor abbe did not pursue the subject after these significantwords, the laconic sharpness of which cut through the proposition hewas about to make. 

"I think Doctor Minoret is very rich, " he said. 

"So much the better for him. "

"You have indirectly caused your son's misfortunes by refusing to givehim a profession; beware for the future, " said the abbe sternly. "Am Ito tell Doctor Minoret that you are coming?"

"Why cannot he come to me if he knows I want him?" she replied. 

"Ah, madame, if you go to him you will pay him three per cent; if hecomes to you you will pay him five, " said the abbe, inventing thisreason to influence the old lady. "And if you are forced to sell yourfarm by Dionis the notary, or by Massin the clerk (who would refuse tolend you the money, knowing it was more their interest to buy), youwould lose half its value. I have not the slightest influence on theDionis, Massins, or Levraults, or any of those rich men who covet yourfarm and know that your son is in prison. "

"They know it! oh, do they know it?" she exclaimed, throwing up herarms. "There! my poor abbe, you have let your coffee get cold!Tiennette, Tiennette!"

Tiennette, an old Breton servant sixty years of age, wearing a shortgown and a Breton cap, came quickly in and took the abbe's coffee towarm it. 

"Let be, Monsieur le recteur, " she said, seeing that the abbe meant todrink it, "I'll just put it into the bain-marie, it won't spoil it. "

"Well, " said the abbe to Madame de Portenduere in his most insinuatingvoice, "I shall go and tell the doctor of your visit, and you willcome--"

The old mother did not yield till after an hour's discussion, duringwhich the abbe was forced to repeat his arguments at least ten times. And even then the proud Kergarouet was not vanquished until he usedthe words, "Savinien would go. "

"It is better that I should go than he, " she said. 

 CHAPTER XI

 SAVINIEN SAVED

The clock was striking nine when the little door made in the largedoor of Madame de Portenduere's house closed on the abbe, whoimmediately crossed the road and hastily rang the bell at the doctor'sgate. He fell from Tiennette to La Bougival; the one said to him, "Whydo you come so late, Monsieur l'abbe?" as the other had said, "Why doyou leave Madame so early when she is in trouble?"

The abbe found a numerous company assembled in the green and brownsalon; for Dionis had stopped at Massin's on his way home to re-assurethe heirs by repeating their uncle's words. 

"I believe Ursula has a love-affair, " said he, "which will be nothingbut pain and trouble to her; she seems romantic" (extreme sensibilityis so called by notaries), "and, you'll see, she won't marry soon. Therefore, don't show her any distrust; be very attentive to her andvery respectful to your uncle, for he is slyer than fifty Goupils, "added the notary--without being aware that Goupil is a corruption ofthe word vulpes, a fox. 

So Mesdames Massin and Cremiere with their husbands, the post masterand Desire, together with the Nemours doctor and Bongrand, made anunusual and noisy party in the doctor's salon. As the abbe entered heheard the sound of the piano. Poor Ursula was just finishing a sonataof Beethoven's. With girlish mischief she had chosen that grand music, which must be studied to be understood, for the purpose of disgustingthese women with the thing they coveted. The finer the music the lessignorant persons like it. So, when the door opened and the abbe'svenerable head appeared they all cried out: "Ah! here's Monsieurl'abbe!" in a tone of relief, delighted to jump up and put an end totheir torture. 

The exclamation was echoed at the card-table, where Bongrand, theNemours doctor, and old Minoret were victims to the presumption withwhich the collector, in order to propitiate his great-uncle, hadproposed to take the fourth hand at whist. Ursula left the piano. Thedoctor rose as if to receive the abbe, but really to put an end to thegame. After many compliments to their uncle on the wonderfulproficiency of his goddaughter, the heirs made their bow and retired. 

"Good-night, my friends, " cried the doctor as the iron gate clanged. 

"Ah! that's where the money goes, " said Madame Cremiere to MadameMassin, as they walked on. 

"God forbid that I should spend money to teach my little Aline to makesuch a din as that!" cried Madame Massin. 

"She said it was Beethoven, who is thought to be fine musician, " saidthe collector; "he has quite a reputation. "

"Not in Nemours, I'm sure of that, " said Madame Cremiere. 

"I believe uncle made her play it expressly to drive us away, " saidMassin; "for I saw him give that little minx a wink as she opened themusic-book. "

"If that's the sort of charivari they like, " said the post master, "they are quite right to keep it to themselves. "

"Monsieur Bongrand must be fond of whist to stand such a dreadfulracket, " said Madame Cremiere. 

"I shall never be able to play before persons who don't understandmusic, " Ursula was saying as she sat down beside the whist-table. 

"In natures richly organized, " said the abbe, "sentiments can bedeveloped only in a congenial atmosphere. Just as a priest is unableto give the blessing in presence of an evil spirit, or as achestnut-tree dies in a clay soil, so a musician's genius has a mentaleclipse when he is surrounded by ignorant persons. In all the arts wemust receive from the souls who make the environment of our souls asmuch intensity as we convey to them. This axiom, which rules the humanmind, has been made into proverbs: 'Howl with the wolves'; 'Like meetslike. ' But the suffering you felt, Ursula, affects delicate and tendernatures only. "

"And so, friends, " said the doctor, "a thing which would merely givepain to most women might kill my Ursula. Ah! when I am no longer here, I charge you to see that the hedge of which Catullus spoke, --'Utflos, ' etc. , --a protecting hedge is raised between this cherishedflower and the world. "

"And yet those ladies flattered you, Ursula, " said Monsieur Bongrand, smiling. 

"Flattered her grossly, " remarked the Nemours doctor. 

"I have always noticed how vulgar forced flattery is, " said oldMinoret. "Why is that?"

"A true thought has its own delicacy, " said the abbe. 

"Did you dine with Madame de Portenduere?" asked Ursula, with a lookof anxious curiosity. 

"Yes; the poor lady is terribly distressed. It is possible she maycome to see you this evening, Monsieur Minoret. "

Ursula pressed her godfather's hand under the table. 

"Her son, " said Bongrand, "was rather too simple-minded to live inParis without a mentor. When I heard that inquiries were being madehere about the property of the old lady I feared he was discountingher death. "

"Is it possible you think him capable of it?" said Ursula, with such aterrible glance at Monsieur Bongrand that he said to himself rathersadly, "Alas! yes, she loves him. "

"Yes and no, " said the Nemours doctor, replying to Ursula's question. "There is a great deal of good in Savinien, and that is why he is nowin prison; a scamp wouldn't have got there. "

"Don't let us talk about it any more, " said old Minoret. "The poormother must not be allowed to weep if there's a way to dry her tears. "

The four friends rose and went out; Ursula accompanied them to thegate, saw her godfather and the abbe knock at the opposite door, andas soon as Tiennette admitted them she sat down on the outer wall withLa Bougival beside her. 

"Madame la vicomtesse, " said the abbe, who entered first into thelittle salon, "Monsieur le docteur Minoret was not willing that youshould have the trouble of coming to him--"

"I am too much of the old school, madame, " interrupted the doctor, "not to know what a man owes to a woman of your rank, and I am veryglad to be able, as Monsieur l'abbe tells me, to be of service toyou. "

Madame de Portenduere, who disliked the step the abbe had advised somuch that she had almost decided, after he left her, to apply to thenotary instead, was surprised by Minoret's attention to such a degreethat she rose to receive him and signed to him to take a chair. 

"Be seated, monsieur, " she said with a regal air. "Our dear abbe hastold you that the viscount is in prison on account of some youthfuldebts, --a hundred thousand francs or so. If you could lend them to himI would secure you on my farm at Bordieres. "

"We will talk of that, madame, when I have brought your son back toyou--if you will allow me to be your emissary in the matter. "

"Very good, monsieur, " she said, bowing her head and looking at theabbe as if to say, "You were right; he really is a man of goodsociety. "

"You see, madame, " said the abbe, "that my friend the doctor is fullof devotion to your family. "

"We shall be grateful, monsieur, " said Madame de Portenduere, making avisible effort; "a journey to Paris, at your age, in quest of aprodigal, is--"

"Madame, I had the honor to meet, in '65, the illustrious Admiral dePortenduere in the house of that excellent Monsieur de Malesherbes, and also in that of Monsieur le Comte de Buffon, who was anxious toquestion him on some curious results of his voyages. Possibly Monsieurde Portenduere, your late husband, was present. Those were theglorious days of the French navy; it bore comparison with that ofGreat Britain, and its officers had their full quota of courage. Withwhat impatience we awaited in '83 and '84 the news from St. Roch. Icame very near serving as surgeon in the king's service. Yourgreat-uncle, who is still living, Admiral Kergarouet, fought hissplendid battle at that time in the 'Belle-Poule. '"

"Ah! if he did but know his great-nephew is in prison!"

"He would not leave him there a day, " said old Minoret, rising. 

He held out his hand to take that of the old lady, which she allowedhim to do; then he kissed it respectfully, bowed profoundly, and leftthe room; but returned immediately to say:--

"My dear abbe, may I ask you to engage a place in the diligence for meto-morrow?"

The abbe stayed behind for half an hour to sing the praises of hisfriend, who meant to win and had succeeded in winning the good gracesof the old lady. 

"He is an astonishing man for his age, " she said. "He talks of goingto Paris and attending to my son's affairs as if he were onlytwenty-five. He has certainly seen good society. "

"The very best, madame; and to-day more than one son of a peer ofFrance would be glad to marry his goddaughter with a million. Ah! ifthat idea should come into Savinien's head!--times are so changed thatthe objections would not come from your side, especially after hislate conduct--"

The amazement into which the speech threw the old lady alone enabledhim to finish it. 

"You have lost your senses, " she said at last. 

"Think it over, madame; God grant that your son may conduct himself infuture in a manner to win that old man's respect. "

"If it were not you, Monsieur l'abbe, " said Madame de Portenduere, "ifit were any one else who spoke to me in that way--"

"You would not see him again, " said the abbe, smiling. "Let us hopethat your dear son will enlighten you as to what occurs in Paris inthese days as to marriages. You will think only of Savinien's good; asyou really have helped to compromise his future you will not stand inthe way of his making himself another position. "

"And it is you who say that to me?"

"If I did not say it to you, who would?" cried the abbe rising andmaking a hasty retreat. 

As he left the house he saw Ursula and her godfather standing in theircourtyard. The weak doctor had been so entreated by Ursula that he hadjust yielded to her. She wanted to go with him to Paris, and gave athousand reasons. He called to the abbe and begged him to engage thewhole coupe for him that very evening if the booking-office were stillopen. 

The next day at half-past six o'clock the old man and the young girlreached Paris, and the doctor went at once to consult his notary. Political events were then very threatening. Monsieur Bongrand hadremarked in the course of the preceding evening that a man must be afool to keep a penny in the public funds so long as the quarrelbetween the press and the court was not made up. Minoret's notary nowindirectly approved of this opinion. The doctor therefore tookadvantage of his journey to sell out his manufacturing stocks and hisshares in the Funds, all of which were then at a high value, depositing the proceeds in the Bank of France. The notary also advisedhis client to sell the stocks left to Ursula by Monsieur de Jordy. Hepromised to employ an extremely clever broker to treat with Savinien'screditors; but said that in order to succeed it would be necessary forthe young man to stay several days longer in prison. 

"Haste in such matters always means the loss of at least fifteen percent, " said the notary. "Besides, you can't get your money under sevenor eight days. "

When Ursula heard that Savinien would have to say at least a weeklonger in jail she begged her godfather to let her go there, if onlyonce. Old Minoret refused. The uncle and niece were staying at a hotelin the Rue Croix des Petits-Champs where the doctor had taken a verysuitable apartment. Knowing the scrupulous honor and propriety of hisgoddaughter he made her promise not to go out while he was away; atother times he took her to see the arcades, the shops, the boulevards;but nothing seemed to amuse or interest her. 

"What do you want to do?" asked the old man. 

"See Saint-Pelagie, " she answered obstinately. 

Minoret called a hackney-coach and took her to the Rue de la Clef, where the carriage drew up before the shabby front of an old conventthen transformed into a prison. The sight of those high gray walls, with every window barred, of the wicket through which none can enterwithout stooping (horrible lesson!), of the whole gloomy structure ina quarter full of wretchedness, where it rises amid squalid streetslike a supreme misery, --this assemblage of dismal things so oppressedUrsula's heart that she burst into tears. 

"Oh!" she said, "to imprison young men in this dreadful place formoney! How can a debt to a money-lender have a power the king has not?_He_ there!" she cried. "Where, godfather?" she added, looking fromwindow to window. 

"Ursula, " said the old man, "you are making me commit great follies. This is not forgetting him as you promised. "

"But, " she argued, "if I must renounce him must I also cease to feelan interest in him? I can love him and not marry at all. "

"Ah!" cried the doctor, "there is so much reason in yourunreasonableness that I am sorry I brought you. "

Three days later the worthy man had all the receipts signed, and thelegal papers ready for Savinien's release. The payings, including thenotaries' fees, amounted to eighty thousand francs. The doctor wenthimself to see Savinien released on Saturday at two o'clock. The youngviscount, already informed of what had happened by his mother, thankedhis liberator with sincere warmth of heart. 

"You must return at once to see your mother, " the old doctor said tohim. 

Savinien answered in a sort of confusion that he had contractedcertain debts of honor while in prison, and related the visit of hisfriends. 

"I suspected there was some personal debt, " cried the doctor, smiling. "Your mother borrowed a hundred thousand francs of me, but I have paidout only eighty thousand. Here is the rest; be careful how you spendit, monsieur; consider what you have left of it as your stake on thegreen cloth of fortune. "

During the last eight days Savinien had made many reflections on thepresent conditions of life. Competition in everything necessitatedhard work on the part of whoever sought a fortune. Illegal methods andunderhand dealing demanded more talent than open efforts in face ofday. Success in society, far from giving a man position, wasted histime and required an immense deal of money. The name of Portenduere, which his mother considered all-powerful, had no power at all inParis. His cousin the deputy, Comte de Portenduere, cut a very poorfigure in the Elective Chamber in presence of the peerage and thecourt; and had none too much credit personally. Admiral Kergarouetexisted only as the husband of his wife. Savinien admitted to himselfthat he had seen orators, men from the middle classes, or lessernoblemen, become influential personages. Money was the pivot, the solemeans, the only mechanism of a society which Louis XVIII. Had tried tocreate in the likeness of that of England. 

On his way from the Rue de la Clef to the Rue Croix des Petits-Champsthe young gentleman divulged the upshot of these meditations (whichwere certainly in keeping with de Marsay's advice) to the old doctor. 

"I ought, " he said, "to go into oblivion for three or four years andseek a career. Perhaps I could make myself a name by writing a book onstatesmanship or morals, or a treatise on some of the great questionsof the day. While I am looking out for a marriage with some young ladywho could make me eligible to the Chamber, I will work hard in silenceand in obscurity. "

Studying the young fellow's face with a keen eye, the doctor saw theserious purpose of a wounded man who was anxious to vindicate himself. He therefore cordially approved of the scheme. 

"My friend, " he said, "if you strip off the skin of the old nobility(which is no longer worn these days) I will undertake, after you havelived for three or four years in a steady and industrious manner, tofind you a superior young girl, beautiful, amiable, pious, andpossessing from seven to eight hundred thousand francs, who will makeyou happy and of whom you will have every reason to be proud, --onewhose only nobility is that of the heart!"

"Ah, doctor!" cried the young man, "there is no longer a nobility inthese days, --nothing but an aristocracy. "

"Go and pay your debts of honor and come back here. I shall engage thecoupe of the diligence, for my niece is with me, " said the old man. 

That evening, at six o'clock, the three travelers started from the RueDauphine. Ursula had put on a veil and did not say a word. Savinien, who once, in a moment of superficial gallantry, had sent her that kisswhich invaded and conquered her soul like a love-poem, had completelyforgotten the young girl in the hell of his Parisian debts; moreover, his hopeless love for Emilie de Kergarouet hindered him from bestowinga thought on a few glances exchanged with a little country girl. Hedid not recognize her when the doctor handed her into the coach andthen sat down beside her to separate her from the young viscount. 

"I have some bills to give you, " said the doctor to the young man. "Ihave brought all your papers and documents. "

"I came very near not getting off, " said Savinien, "for I had to orderlinen and clothes; the Philistines took all; I return like a trueprodigal. "

However interesting were the subjects of conversation between theyoung man and the old one, and however witty and clever were certainremarks of the viscount, the young girl continued silent till afterdusk, her green veil lowered, and her hands crossed on her shawl. 

"Mademoiselle does not seem to have enjoyed Paris very much, " saidSavinien at last, somewhat piqued. 

"I am glad to return to Nemours, " she answered in a trembling voiceraising her veil. 

Notwithstanding the dim light Savinien then recognized her by theheavy braids of her hair and the brilliancy of her blue eyes. 

"I, too, leave Paris to bury myself in Nemours without regret now thatI meet my charming neighbour again, " he said; "I hope, Monsieur ledocteur that you will receive me in your house; I love music, and Iremember to have listened to Mademoiselle Ursula's piano. "

"I do not know, " replied the doctor gravely, "whether your motherwould approve of your visits to an old man whose duty it is to carefor this dear child with all the solicitude of a mother. "

This reserved answer made Savinien reflect, and he then remembered thekisses so thoughtlessly wafted. Night came; the heat was great. Savinien and the doctor went to sleep first. Ursula, whose head wasfull of projects, did not succumb till midnight. She had taken off herstraw-bonnet, and her head, covered with a little embroidered cap, dropped upon her uncle's shoulder. When they reached Bouron at dawn, Savinien awoke. He then saw Ursula in the slight disarray naturallycaused by the jolting of the vehicle; her cap was rumpled and halfoff; the hair, unbound, had fallen each side of her face, which glowedfrom the heat of the night; in this situation, dreadful for women towhom dress is a necessary auxiliary, youth and beauty triumphed. Thesleep of innocence is always lovely. The half-opened lips showed thepretty teeth; the shawl, unfastened, gave to view, beneath the foldsof her muslin gown and without offence to her modesty, thegracefulness of her figure. The purity of the virgin spirit shone onthe sleeping countenance all the more plainly because no otherexpression was there to interfere with it. Old Minoret, who presentlywoke up, placed his child's head in the corner of the carriage thatshe might be more at ease; and she let him do it unconsciously, sodeep was her sleep after the many wakeful nights she had spent inthinking of Savinien's trouble. 

"Poor little girl!" said the doctor to his neighbour, "she sleeps likethe child she is. "

"You must be proud of her, " replied Savinien; "for she seems as goodas she is beautiful. "

"Ah! she is the joy of the house. I could not love her better if shewere my own daughter. She will be sixteen on the 5th February. Godgrant that I may live long enough to marry her to a man who will makeher happy. I wanted to take her to the theater in Paris, where she wasfor the first time, but she refused, the Abbe Chaperon had forbiddenit. 'But, ' I said, 'when you are married your husband will want you togo there. ' 'I shall do what my husband wants, ' she answered. 'If heasks me to do evil and I am weak enough to yield, he will beresponsible before God--and so I shall have strength to refuse him, for his own sake. '"

As the coach entered Nemours, at five in the morning, Ursula woke up, ashamed at her rumpled condition, and confused by the look ofadmiration which she encountered from Savinien. During the hour it hadtaken the diligence to come from Bouron to Nemours the young man hadfallen in love with Ursula; he had studied the pure candor of hersoul, the beauty of that body, the whiteness of the skin, the delicacyof the features; he recalled the charm of the voice which had utteredbut one expressive sentence, in which the poor child said all, intending to say nothing. A presentiment suddenly seemed to take holdof him; he saw in Ursula the woman the doctor had pictured to him, framed in gold by the magic words, "Seven or eight hundred thousandfrancs. "

"In three of four years she will be twenty, and I shall betwenty-seven, " he thought. "The good doctor talked of probation, work, good conduct! Sly as he is I shall make him tell me the truth. "

The three neighbours parted in the street in front of their respectivehomes, and Savinien put a little courting into his eyes as he gaveUrsula a parting glance. 

Madame de Portenduere let her son sleep till midday; but the doctorand Ursula, in spite of their fatiguing journey, went to high mass. Savinien's release and his return in company with the doctor hadexplained the reason of the latter's absence to the newsmongers of thetown and to the heirs, who were once more assembled in conventicle onthe square, just as they were two weeks earlier when the doctorattended his first mass. To the great astonishment of all the groups, Madame de Portenduere, on leaving the church, stopped old Minoret, whooffered her his arm and took her home. The old lady asked him todinner that evening, also asking his niece and assuring him that theabbe would be the only other guest. 

"He must have wished Ursula to see Paris, " said Minoret-Levrault. 

"Pest!" cried Cremiere; "he can't take a step without that girl!"

"Something must have happened to make old Portenduere accept his arm, "said Massin. 

"So none of you have guessed that your uncle has sold his Funds andreleased that little Savinien?" cried Goupil. "He refused Dionis, buthe didn't refuse Madame de Portenduere-- Ha, ha! you are all done for. The viscount will propose a marriage-contract instead of a mortgage, and the doctor will make the husband settle on his jewel of a girl thesum he has now paid to secure the alliance. "

"It is not a bad thing to marry Ursula to Savinien, " said the butcher. "The old lady gives a dinner to-day to Monsieur Minoret. Tiennettecame early for a filet. "

"Well, Dionis, here's a fine to-do!" said Massin, rushing up to thenotary, who was entering the square. 

"What is? It's all going right, " returned the notary. "Your uncle hassold his Funds and Madame de Portenduere has sent for me to witnessthe signing of a mortgage on her property for one hundred thousandfrancs, lent to her by your uncle. "

"Yes, but suppose the young people should marry?"

"That's as if you said Goupil was to be my successor. "

"The two things are not so impossible, " said Goupil. 

On returning from mass Madame de Portenduere told Tiennette to informher son that she wished to see him. 

The little house had three bedrooms on the first floor. That of Madamede Portenduere and that of her late husband were separated by a largedressing-room lighted by a skylight, and connected by a littleantechamber which opened on the staircase. The window of the otherroom, occupied by Savinien, looked, like that of his late father, onthe street. The staircase went up at the back of the house, leavingroom for a little study lighted by a small round window opening on thecourt. Madame de Portenduere's bedroom, the gloomiest in the house, also looked into the court; but the widow spent all her time in thesalon on the ground floor, which communicated by a passage with thekitchen built at the end of the court, so that this salon was made toanswer the double purpose of drawing-room and dining-room combined. 

The bedroom of the late Monsieur de Portenduere remained as he hadleft it on the day of his death; there was no change except that hewas absent. Madame de Portenduere had made the bed herself; layingupon it the uniform of a naval captain, his sword, cordon, orders, andhat. The gold snuff-box from which her late husband had taken snufffor the last time was on the table, with his prayer-book, his watch, and the cup from which he drank. His white hair, arranged in onecurled lock and framed, hung above a crucifix and the holy water inthe alcove. All the little ornaments he had worn, his journals, hisfurniture, his Dutch spittoon, his spy-glass hanging by the mantel, were all there. The widow had stopped the hands of the clock at thehour of his death, to which they always pointed. The room still smeltof the powder and the tobacco of the deceased. The hearth was as heleft it. To her, entering there, he was again visible in the manyarticles which told of his daily habits. His tall cane with its goldhead was where he had last placed it, with his buckskin gloves closeby. On a table against the wall stood a gold vase, of coarseworkmanship but worth three thousand francs, a gift from Havana, whichcity, at the time of the American War of Independence, he hadprotected from an attack by the British, bringing his convoy safe intoport after an engagement with superior forces. To recompense thisservice the King of Spain had made him a knight of his order; the sameevent gave him a right to the next promotion to the rank ofvice-admiral, and he also received the red ribbing. He then married hiswife, who had a fortune of about two hundred thousand francs. But theRevolution hindered his promotion, and Monsieur de Portenduereemigrated. 

"Where is my mother?" said Savinien to Tiennette. 

"She is waiting for you in your father's room, " said the old Bretonwoman. 

Savinien could not repress a shudder. He knew his mother's rigidprinciples, her worship of honor, her loyalty, her faith in nobility, and he foresaw a scene. He went up to the assault with his heartbeating and his face rather pale. In the dim light which filteredthrough the blinds he saw his mother dressed in black, and with an airof solemnity in keeping with that funereal room. 

"Monsieur le vicomte, " she said when she saw him, rising and takinghis hand to lead him to his father's bed, "there died your father, --aman of honor; he died without reproach from his own conscience. Hisspirit is there. Surely he groaned in heaven when he saw his sondegraded by imprisonment for debt. Under the old monarchy that staincould have been spared you by obtaining a lettre de cachet andshutting you up for a few days in a military prison. --But you arehere; you stand before your father, who hears you. You know all thatyou did before you were sent to that ignoble prison. Will you swear tome before your father's shade, and in presence of God who sees all, that you have done no dishonorable act; that your debts are the resultof youthful folly, and that your honor is untarnished? If yourblameless father were there, sitting in that armchair, and asking anexplanation of your conduct, could he embrace you after having heardit?"

"Yes, mother, " replied the young man, with grave respect. 

She opened her arms and pressed him to her heart, shedding a fewtears. 

"Let us forget it all, my son, " she said; "it is only a little lessmoney. I shall pray God to let us recover it. As you are indeed worthyof your name, kiss me--for I have suffered much. "

"I swear, mother, " he said, laying his hand upon the bed, "to give youno further unhappiness of that kind, and to do all I can to repairthese first faults. "

"Come and breakfast, my child, " she said, turning to leave the room. 

 CHAPTER XII

 OBSTACLES TO YOUNG LOVE

In 1829 the old noblesse had recovered as to manners and customssomething of the prestige it had irrevocably lost in politics. Moreover, the sentiment which governs parents and grandparents in allthat relates to matrimonial conventions is an imperishable sentiment, closely allied to the very existence of civilized societies andspringing from the spirit of family. It rules in Geneva as in Viennaand in Nemours, where, as we have seen, Zelie Minoret refused herconsent to a possible marriage of her son with the daughter of abastard. Still, all social laws have their exceptions. Savinienthought he might bend his mother's pride before the inborn nobility ofUrsula. The struggle began at once. As soon as they were seated attable his mother told him of the horrible letters, as she called them, which the Kergarouets and the Portendueres had written her. 

"There is no such thing as family in these days, mother, " repliedSavinien, "nothing but individuals! The nobles are no longer a compactbody. No one asks or cares whether I am a Portenduere, or brave, or astatesmen; all they ask now-a-days is, 'What taxes does he pay?'"

"But the king?" asked the old lady. 

"The king is caught between the two Chambers like a man between hiswife and his mistress. So I shall have to marry some rich girl withoutregard to family, --the daughter of a peasant if she has a million andis sufficiently well brought-up--that is to say, if she has beentaught in school. "

"Oh! there's no need to talk of that, " said the old lady. 

Savinien frowned as he heard the words. He knew the granite will, called Breton obstinacy, that distinguished his mother, and heresolved to know at once her opinion on this delicate matter. 

"So, " he went on, "if I loved a young girl, --take for instance yourneighbour's godchild, little Ursula, --would you oppose my marriage?"

"Yes, as long as I live, " she replied; "and after my death you wouldbe responsible for the honor and the blood of the Kergarouets and thePortendueres. "

"Would you let me die of hunger and despair for the chimera ofnobility, which has no reality to-day unless it has the lustre ofgreat wealth?"

"You could serve France and put faith in God. "

"Would you postpone my happiness till after your death?"

"It would be horrible if you took it then, --that is all I have tosay. "

"Louis XIV. Came very near marrying the niece of Mazarin, a parvenu. "

"Mazarin himself opposed it. "

"Remember the widow Scarron. "

"She was a d'Aubigne. Besides, the marriage was in secret. But I amvery old, my son, " she said, shaking her head. "When I am no more youcan, as you say, marry whom you please. "

Savinien both loved and respected his mother; but he instantly, thoughsilently, set himself in opposition to her with an obstinacy equal toher own, resolving to have no other wife than Ursula, to whom thisopposition gave, as often happens in similar circumstances, the valueof a forbidden thing. 

When, after vespers, the doctor, with Ursula, who was dressed in pinkand white, entered the cold, stiff salon, the girl was seized withnervous trembling, as though she had entered the presence of the queenof France and had a favor to beg of her. Since her confession to thedoctor this little house had assumed the proportions of a palace inher eyes, and the old lady herself the social value which a duchess ofthe Middle Ages might have had to the daughter of a serf. Never hadUrsula measured as she did at that moment the distance which separatedVicomte de Portenduere from the daughter of a regimental musician, aformer opera-singer and the natural son of an organist. 

"What is the matter, my dear?" said the old lady, making the girl sitdown beside her. 

"Madame, I am confused by the honor you have done me--"

"My little girl, " said Madame de Portenduere, in her sharpest tone. "Iknow how fond your uncle is of you, and I wished to be agreeable tohim, for he has brought back my prodigal son. "

"But, my dear mother, " said Savinien cut to the heart by seeing thecolor fly into Ursula's face as she struggled to keep back her tears, "even if we were under no obligations to Monsieur le ChevalierMinoret, I think we should always be most grateful for the pleasureMademoiselle has given us by accepting your invitation. "

The young man pressed the doctor's hand in a significant manner, adding: "I see you wear, monsieur, the order of Saint-Michel, theoldest order in France, and one which confers nobility. "

Ursula's extreme beauty, to which her almost hopeless love gave adepth which great painters have sometimes conveyed in pictures wherethe soul is brought into strong relief, had struck Madame dePortenduere suddenly, and made her suspect that the doctor's apparentgenerosity masked an ambitious scheme. She had made the speech towhich Savinien replied with the intention of wounding the doctor inthat which was dearest to him; and she succeeded, though the old mancould hardly restrain a smile as he heard himself styled a"chevalier, " amused to observe how the eagerness of a lover did notshrink from absurdity. 

"The order of Saint-Michel which in former days men committed folliesto obtain, " he said, "has now, Monsieur le vicomte, gone the way ofother privileges! It is given only to doctors and poor artists. Thekings have done well to join it to that of Saint-Lazare who was, Ibelieve, a poor devil recalled to life by a miracle. From this pointof view the order of Saint-Michel and Saint-Lazare may be, for many ofus, symbolic. "

After this reply, at once sarcastic and dignified, silence reigned, which, as no one seemed inclined to break it, was becoming awkward, when there was a rap at the door. 

"There is our dear abbe, " said the old lady, who rose, leaving Ursulaalone, and advancing to meet the Abbe Chaperon, --an honor she had notpaid to the doctor and his niece. 

The old man smiled to himself as he looked from his goddaughter toSavinien. To show offence or to complain of Madame de Portenduere'smanners was a rock on which a man of small mind might have struck, butMinoret was too accomplished in the ways of the world not to avoid it. He began to talk to the viscount of the danger Charles X. Was thenrunning by confiding the affairs of the nation to the Prince dePolignac. When sufficient time had been spent on the subject to avoidall appearance of revenging himself by so doing, he handed the oldlady, in an easy, jesting way, a packet of legal papers and receiptedbills, together with the account of his notary. 

"Has my son verified them?" she said, giving Savinien a look, to whichhe replied by bending his head. "Well, then the rest is my notary'sbusiness, " she added, pushing away the papers and treating the affairwith the disdain she wished to show for money. 

To abase wealth was, according to Madame de Portenduere's ideas, toelevate the nobility and rob the bourgeoisie of their importance. 

A few moments later Goupil came from his employer, Dionis, to ask forthe accounts of the transaction between the doctor and Savinien. 

"Why do you want them?" said the old lady. 

"To put the matter in legal form; there have been no cash payments. "

Ursula and Savinien, who both for the first time exchanged a glancewith offensive personage, were conscious of a sensation like that oftouching a toad, aggravated by a dark presentiment of evil. They bothhad the same indefinable and confused vision into the future, whichhas no name in any language, but which is capable of explanation asthe action of the inward being of which the mysterious Swedenborgianhad spoken to Doctor Minoret. The certainty that the venomous Goupilwould in some way be fatal to them made Ursula tremble; but shecontrolled herself, conscious of unspeakable pleasure in seeing thatSavinien shared her emotion. 

"He is not handsome, that clerk of Monsieur Dionis, " said Savinien, when Goupil had closed the door. 

"What does it signify whether such persons are handsome or ugly?" saidMadame de Portenduere. 

"I don't complain of his ugliness, " said the abbe, "but I do of hiswickedness, which passes all bounds; he is a villain. "

The doctor, in spite of his desire to be amiable, grew cold anddignified. The lovers were embarrassed. If it had not been for thekindly good-humor of the abbe, whose gentle gayety enlivened thedinner, the position of the doctor and his niece would have beenalmost intolerable. At dessert, seeing Ursula turn pale, he said toher:--

"If you don't feel well, dear child, we have only the street tocross. "

"What is the matter, my dear?" said the old lady to the girl. 

"Madame, " said the doctor severely, "her soul is chilled, accustomedas she is to be met by smiles. "

"A very bad education, monsieur, " said Madame de Portenduere. "Is itnot, Monsieur l'abbe?"

"Yes, " answered Minoret, with a look at the abbe, who knew not how toreply. "I have, it is true, rendered life unbearable to an angelicspirit if she has to pass it in the world; but I trust I shall not dieuntil I place her in security, safe from coldness, indifference, andhatred--"

"Oh, godfather--I beg of you--say no more. There is nothing the matterwith me, " cried Ursula, meeting Madame de Portenduere's eyes ratherthan give too much meaning to her words by looking at Savinien. 

"I cannot know, madame, " said Savinien to his mother, "whetherMademoiselle Ursula suffers, but I do know that you are torturing me. "

Hearing these words, dragged from the generous young man by hismother's treatment of herself, Ursula turned pale and begged Madame dePortenduere to excuse her; then she took her uncle's arm, bowed, leftthe room, and returned home. Once there, she rushed to the salon andsat down to the piano, put her head in her hands, and burst intotears. 

"Why don't you leave the management of your affairs to my oldexperience, cruel child?" cried the doctor in despair. "Nobles neverthink themselves under any obligations to the bourgeoisie. When we dothem a service they consider that we do our duty, and that's all. Besides, the old lady saw that you looked favorably on Savinien; sheis afraid he will love you. "

"At any rate he is saved!" said Ursula. "But ah! to try to humiliate aman like you!"

"Wait till I return, my child, " said the old man leaving her. 

When the doctor re-entered Madame de Portenduere's salon he foundDionis the notary, accompanied by Monsieur Bongrand and the mayor ofNemours, witnesses required by law for the validity of deeds in allcommunes where there is but one notary. Minoret took Monsieur Dionisaside and said a word in his ear, after which the notary read thedeeds aloud officially; from which it appeared that Madame dePortenduere gave a mortgage on all her property to secure payment ofthe hundred thousand francs, the interest on which was fixed at fiveper cent. At the reading of this last clause the abbe looked atMinoret, who answered with an approving nod. The poor priest whisperedsomething in the old lady's ear to which she replied, --

"I will owe nothing to such persons. "

"My mother leaves me the nobler part, " said Savinien to the doctor;"she will repay the money and charges me to show our gratitude. "

"But you will have to pay eleven thousand francs the first year tomeet the interest and the legal costs, " said the abbe. 

"Monsieur, " said Minoret to Dionis, "as Monsieur and Madame dePortenduere are not in a condition to pay those costs, add them to theamount of the mortgage and I will pay them. "

Dionis made the change and the sum borrowed was fixed at one hundredand seven thousand francs. When the papers were all signed, Minoretmade his fatigue an excuse to leave the house at the same time as thenotary and witnesses. 

"Madame, " said the abbe, "why did you affront the excellent MonsieurMinoret, who saved you at least twenty-five thousand francs on thosedebts in Paris, and had the delicacy to give twenty thousand to yourson for his debts of honor?"

"Your Minoret is sly, " she said, taking a pinch of snuff. "He knowswhat he is about. "

"My mother thinks he wishes to force me into marrying his niece bygetting hold of our farm, " said Savinien; "as if a Portenduere, son ofa Kergarouet, could be made to marry against his will. "

An hour later, Savinien presented himself at the doctor's house, whereall the relatives had assembled, enticed by curiosity. The arrival ofthe young viscount produced a lively sensation, all the more becauseits effect was different on each person present. MesdemoisellesCremiere and Massin whispered together and looked at Ursula, whoblushed. The mothers said to Desire that Goupil was right about themarriage. The eyes of all present turned towards the doctor, who didnot rise to receive the young nobleman, but merely bowed his headwithout laying down the dice-box, for he was playing a game ofbackgammon with Monsieur Bongrand. The doctor's cold manner surprisedevery one. 

"Ursula, my child, " he said, "give us a little music. "

While the young girl, delighted to have something to do to keep her incountenance, went to the piano and began to move the green-coveredmusic-books, the heirs resigned themselves, with many demonstrationsof pleasure, to the torture and the silence about to be inflicted onthem, so eager were they to find out what was going on between theiruncle and the Portendueres. 

In sometimes happens that a piece of music, poor in itself, whenplayed by a young girl under the influence of deep feeling, makes moreimpression than a fine overture played by a full orchestra. In allmusic there is, besides the thought of the composer, the soul of theperformer, who, by a privilege granted to this art only, can give bothmeaning and poetry to passages which are in themselves of no greatvalue. Chopin proves, for that unresponsive instrument the piano, thetruth of this fact, already proved by Paganini on the violin. Thatfine genius is less a musician than a soul which makes itself felt, and communicates itself through all species of music, even simplechords. Ursula, by her exquisite and sensitive organization, belongedto this rare class of beings, and old Schmucke, the master, who cameevery Saturday and who, during Ursula's stay in Paris was with herevery day, had brought his pupil's talent to its full perfection. "Rousseau's Dream, " the piece now chosen by Ursula, composed by Heroldin his young days, is not without a certain depth which is capable ofbeing developed by execution. Ursula threw into it the feelings whichwere agitating her being, and justified the term "caprice" given byHerold to the fragment. With soft and dreamy touch her soul spoke tothe young man's soul and wrapped it, as in a cloud, with ideas thatwere almost visible. 

Sitting at the end of the piano, his elbow resting on the cover andhis head on his left hand, Savinien admired Ursula, whose eyes, fixedon the paneling of the wall beyond him, seemed to be questioninganother world. Many a man would have fallen deeply in love for a lessreason. Genuine feelings have a magnetism of their own, and Ursula waswilling to show her soul, as a coquette her dresses to be admired. Savinien entered that delightful kingdom, led by this pure heart, which, to interpret its feelings, borrowed the power of the only artthat speaks to thought by thought, without the help of words, orcolor, or form. Candor, openness of heart have the same power over aman that childhood has; the same charm, the same irresistibleseductions. Ursula was never more honest and candid than at thismoment, when she was born again into a new life. 

The abbe came to tear Savinien from his dream, requesting him to takea fourth hand at whist. Ursula went on playing; the heirs departed, all except Desire, who was resolved to find out the intentions of hisuncle and the viscount and Ursula. 

"You have as much talent as soul, mademoiselle, " he said, when theyoung girl closed the piano and sat down beside her godfather. "Who isyour master?"

"A German, living close to the Rue Dauphine on the quai Conti, " saidthe doctor. "If he had not given Ursula a lesson every day during herstay in Paris he would have been here to-day. "

"He is not only a great musician, " said Ursula, "but a man of adorablesimplicity of nature. "

"Those lessons must cost a great deal, " remarked Desire. 

The players smiled ironically. When the game was over the doctor, whohad hitherto seemed anxious and pensive, turned to Savinien with theair of a man who fulfills a duty. 

"Monsieur, " he said, "I am grateful for the feeling which leads you tomake me this early visit; but your mother attributes unworthy andunderhand motives to what I have done, and I should give her the rightto call them true if I did not request you to refrain from cominghere, in spite of the honor your visits are to me, and the pleasure Ishould otherwise feel in cultivating your society. Tell your motherthat if I do not beg her, in my niece's name and my own, to do us thehonor of dining here next Sunday it is because I am very certain thatshe would find herself indisposed on that day. "

The old man held out his hand to the young viscount, who pressed itrespectfully, saying:--

"You are quite right, monsieur. "

He then withdrew; but not without a bow to Ursula, in which there wasmore of sadness than disappointment. 

Desire left the house at the same time; but he found it impossible toexchange even a word with the young nobleman, who rushed into his ownhouse precipitately. 

 CHAPTER XIII

 BETROTHAL OF HEARTS

This rupture between the Portendueres and Doctor Minoret gave talkamong the heirs for a week; they did homage to the genius of Dionis, and regarded their inheritance as rescued. 

So, in an age when ranks are leveled, when the mania for equalityputs everybody on one footing and threatens to destroy all bulwarks, even military subordination, --that last refuge of power in France, where passions have now no other obstacles to overcome than personalantipathies, or differences of fortune, --the obstinacy of anold-fashioned Breton woman and the dignity of Doctor Minoret createda barrier between these lovers, which was to end, as such obstaclesoften do, not in destroying but in strengthening love. To an ardentman a woman's value is that which she costs him; Savinien foresaw astruggle, great efforts, many uncertainties, and already the younggirl was rendered dearer to him; he was resolved to win her. Perhapsour feelings obey the laws of nature as to the lastingness of hercreations; to a long life a long childhood. 

The next morning, when they woke, Ursula and Savinien had the samethought. An intimate understanding of this kind would create love ifit were not already its most precious proof. When the young girlparted her curtains just far enough to let her eyes take in Savinien'swindow, she saw the face of her lover above the fastening of his. Whenone reflects on the immense services that windows render to lovers itseems natural and right that a tax should be levied on them. Havingthus protested against her godfather's harshness, Ursula dropped thecurtain and opened her window to close the outer blinds, through whichshe could continue to see without being seen herself. Seven or eighttimes during the day she went up to her room, always to find the youngviscount writing, tearing up what he had written, and then writingagain--to her, no doubt!

The next morning when she woke La Bougival gave her the followingletter:--

To Mademoiselle Ursula:

Mademoiselle, --I do not conceal from myself the distrust a youngman inspires when he has placed himself in the position from whichyour godfather's kindness released me. I know that I must infuture give greater guarantees of good conduct than other men;therefore, mademoiselle, it is with deep humility that I placemyself at your feet and ask you to consider my love. Thisdeclaration is not dictated by passion; it comes from an inwardcertainty which involves the whole of life. A foolish infatuationfor my young aunt, Madame de Kergarouet, was the cause of my goingto prison; will you not regard as a proof of my sincere love thetotal disappearance of those wishes, of that image, now effacedfrom my heart by yours? No sooner did I see you, asleep and soengaging in your childlike slumber at Bouron, than you occupied mysoul as a queen takes possession of her empire. I will have noother wife than you. You have every qualification I desire in herwho is to bear my name. The education you have received and thedignity of your own mind, place you on the level of the highestpositions. But I doubt myself too much to dare describe you toyourself; I can only love you. After listening to you yesterday Irecalled certain words which seem as though written for you;suffer me to transcribe them:--

"Made to draw all hearts and charm all eyes, gentle andintelligent, spiritual yet able to reason, courteous as though shehad passed her life at court, simple as the hermit who had neverknown the world, the fire of her soul is tempered in her eyes bysacred modesty. "

I feel the value of the noble soul revealed in you by many, eventhe most trifling, things. This it is which gives me the courageto ask you, provided you love no one else, to let me prove to youby my conduct and my devotion that I am not unworthy of you. Itconcerns my very life; you cannot doubt that all my powers will beemployed, not only in trying to please you, but in deserving youresteem, which is more precious to me than any other upon earth. With this hope, Ursula--if you will suffer me so to call you in myheart--Nemours will be to me a paradise, the hardest tasks willbring me joys derived through you, as life itself is derived fromGod. Tell me that I may call myself

Your Savinien. 

Ursula kissed the letter; then, having re-read it and clasped it withpassionate motions, she dressed herself eagerly to carry it to heruncle. 

"Ah, my God! I nearly forgot to say my prayers!" she exclaimed, turning back to kneel on her prie-Dieu. 

A few moments later she went down to the garden, where she found hergodfather and made him read the letter. They both sat down on a benchunder the arch of climbing plants opposite to the Chinese pagoda. Ursula awaited the old man's words, and the old man reflected long, too long for the impatient young girl. At last, the result of theirsecret interview appeared in the following answer, part of which thedoctor undoubtedly dictated. 

To Monsieur le Vicomte Savinien de Portenduere:

Monsieur, --I cannot be otherwise than greatly honored by theletter in which you offer me your hand; but, at my age, andaccording to the rules of my education, I have felt bound tocommunicate it to my godfather, who is all I have, and whom I loveas a father and also as a friend. I must now tell you the painfulobjections which he has made to me, and which must be to you myanswer. 

Monsieur le vicomte, I am a poor girl, whose fortune dependsentirely, not only on my godfather's good-will, but also on thedoubtful success of the measures he may take to elude the schemesof his relatives against me. Though I am the legitimate daughterof Joseph Mirouet, band-master of the 45th regiment of infantry, my father himself was my godfather's natural half-brother; andtherefore these relatives may, though without reason, being a suitagainst a young girl who would be defenceless. You see, monsieur, that the smallness of my fortune is not my greatest misfortune. Ihave many things to make me humble. It is for your sake, and notfor my own, that I lay before you these facts, which to loving anddevoted hearts are sometimes of little weight. But I beg you toconsider, monsieur, that if I did not submit them to you, I mightbe suspected of leading your tenderness to overlook obstacleswhich the world, and more especially your mother, regard asinsuperable. 

I shall be sixteen in four months. Perhaps you will admit that weare both too young and too inexperienced to understand themiseries of a life entered upon without other fortune than that Ihave received from the kindness of the late Monsieur de Jordy. Mygodfather desires, moreover, not to marry me until I am twenty. Who knows what fate may have in store for you in four years, thefinest years of your life? do not sacrifice them to a poor girl. 

Having thus explained to you, monsieur, the opinions of my deargodfather, who, far from opposing my happiness, seeks tocontribute to it in every way, and earnestly desires that hisprotection, which must soon fail me, may be replaced by atenderness equal to his own; there remains only to tell you howtouched I am by your offer and by the compliments which accompanyit. The prudence which dictates my letter is that of an old man towhom life is well-known; but the gratitude I express is that of ayoung girl, in whose soul no other sentiment has arisen. 

Therefore, monsieur, I can sign myself, in all sincerity, Your servant, Ursula Mirouet. 

Savinien made no reply. Was he trying to soften his mother? Had thisletter put an end to his love? Many such questions, all insoluble, tormented poor Ursula, and, by repercussion, the doctor too, whosuffered from every agitation of his darling child. Ursula went oftento her chamber to look at Savinien, whom she usually found sittingpensively before his table with his eyes turned towards her window. Atthe end of the week, but no sooner, she received a letter from him;the delay was explained by his increasing love. 

 To Mademoiselle Ursula Mirouet:

Dear Ursula, --I am a Breton, and when my mind is once made upnothing can change me. Your godfather, whom may God preserve tous, is right; but does it follow that I am wrong in loving you?Therefore, all I want to know from you is whether you could loveme. Tell me this, if only by a sign, and then the next four yearswill be the finest of my life. 

A friend of mine has delivered to my great-uncle, Vice-admiralKergarouet, a letter in which I asked his help to enter the navy. The kind old man, grieved at my misfortune, replies that even theking's favor would be thwarted by the rules of the service in caseI wanted a certain rank. Nevertheless, if I study three months atToulon, the minister of war can send me to sea as master's mate;then after a cruise against the Algerines, with whom we are now atwar, I can go through an examination and become a midshipman. Moreover, if I distinguish myself in an expedition they arefitting out against Algiers, I shall certainly be made ensign--buthow soon? that no one can tell. Only, they will make the rules aselastic as possible to have the name of Portenduere again in the navy. 

I see very plainly that I can only hope to obtain you from yourgodfather; and your respect for him makes you still dearer to me. Before replying to the admiral, I must have an interview with thedoctor; on his reply my whole future will depend. Whatever comesof it, know this, that rich or poor, the daughter of a band masteror the daughter of a king, you are the woman whom the voice of myheart points out to me. Dear Ursula, we live in times whenprejudices which might once have separated us have no power toprevent our marriage. To you, then, I offer the feelings of myheart, to your uncle the guarantees which secure to him yourhappiness. He has not seen that I, in a few hours, came to loveyou more than he has loved you in fifteen years. 

Until this evening. Savinien. 

"Here, godfather, " said Ursula, holding the letter out to him with aproud gesture. 

"Ah, my child!" cried the doctor when he had read it, "I am happierthan even you. He repairs all his faults by this resolution. "

After dinner Savinien presented himself, and found the doctor walkingwith Ursula by the balustrade of the terrace overlooking the river. The viscount had received his clothes from Paris, and had not missedheightening his natural advantages by a careful toilet, as elegant asthough he were striving to please the proud and beautiful Comtesse deKergarouet. Seeing him approach her from the portico, the poor girlclung to her uncle's arm as though she were saving herself from a fallover a precipice, and the doctor heard the beating of her heart, whichmade him shudder. 

"Leave us, my child, " he said to the girl, who went to the pagoda andsat upon the steps, after allowing Savinien to take her hand and kissit respectfully. 

"Monsieur, will you give this dear hand to a naval captain?" he saidto the doctor in a low voice. 

"No, " said Minoret, smiling; "we might have to wait too long, but--Iwill give her to a lieutenant. "

Tears of joy filled the young man's eyes as he pressed the doctor'shand affectionately. 

"I am about to leave, " he said, "to study hard and try to learn in sixmonths what the pupils of the Naval School take six years to acquire. "

"You are going?" said Ursula, springing towards them from thepavilion. 

"Yes, mademoiselle, to deserve you. Therefore the more eager I am togo, the more I prove to you my affection. "

"This is the 3rd of October, " she said, looking at him with infinitetenderness; "do not go till after the 19th. "

"Yes, " said the old man, "we will celebrate Saint-Savinien's day. "

"Good-by, then, " cried the young man. "I must spend this week inParis, to take the preliminary steps, buy books and mathematicalinstruments, and try to conciliate the minister and get the best termsthat I can for myself. "

Ursula and her godfather accompanied Savinien to the gate. Soon afterhe entered his mother's house they saw him come out again, followed byTiennette carrying his valise. 

"If you are rich, " said Ursula to her uncle, "why do you make himserve in the navy?"

"Presently it will be I who incurred his debts, " said the doctor, smiling. "I don't oblige him to do anything; but the uniform, my dear, and the cross of the Legion of honor, won in battle, will wipe outmany stains. Before six years are over he may be in command of a ship, and that's all I ask of him. "

"But he may be killed, " she said, turning a pale face upon the doctor. 

"Lovers, like drunkards, have a providence of their own, " he said, laughing. 

That night the poor child, with La Bougival's help, cut off asufficient quantity of her long and beautiful blond hair to make achain; and the next day she persuaded old Schmucke, the music-master, to take it to Paris and have the chain made and returned by thefollowing Sunday. When Savinien got back he informed the doctor andUrsula that he had signed his articles and was to be at Brest on the25th. The doctor asked him to dinner on the 18th, and he passed nearlytwo whole days in the old man's house. Notwithstanding much sageadvice and many resolutions, the lovers could not help betraying theirsecret understanding to the watchful eyes of the abbe, MonsieurBongrand, the Nemours doctor, and La Bougival. 

"Children, " said the old man, "you are risking your happiness by notkeeping it to yourselves. "

On the fete-day, after mass, during which several glances had beenexchanged, Savinien, watched by Ursula, crossed the road and enteredthe little garden where the pair were practically alone; for the kindold man, by way of indulgence, was reading his newspapers in thepagoda. 

"Dear Ursula, " said Savinien; "will you make a gift greater than mymother could make me even if--"

"I know what you wish to ask me, " she said, interrupting him. "See, here is my answer, " she added, taking from the pocket of her apron thebox containing the chain made of her hair, and offering it to him witha nervous tremor which testified to her illimitable happiness. "Wearit, " she said, "for love of me. May it shield you from all dangers byreminding you that my life depends on yours. "

"Naughty little thing! she is giving him a chain of her hair, " saidthe doctor to himself. "How did she manage to get it? what a pity tocut those beautiful fair tresses; she will be giving him my life'sblood next. "

"You will not blame me if I ask you to give me, now that I am leavingyou, a formal promise to have no other husband than me, " saidSavinien, kissing the chain and looking at Ursula with tears in hiseyes. 

"Have I not said so too often--I who went to see the walls ofSainte-Pelagie when you were behind them?--" she replied, blushing. "Irepeat it, Savinien; I shall never love any one but you, and I will beyours alone. "

Seeing that Ursula was half-hidden by the creepers, the young mancould not deny himself the happiness of pressing her to his heart andkissing her forehead; but she gave a feeble cry and dropped upon thebench, and when Savinien sat beside her, entreating pardon, he saw thedoctor standing before them. 

"My friend, " said the old man, "Ursula is a born sensitive; too rougha word might kill her. For her sake you must moderate the enthusiasmof your love--Ah! if you had loved her for sixteen years as I have, you would have been satisfied with her word of promise, " he added, torevenge himself for the last sentence in Savinien's second letter. 

Two days later the young man departed. In spite of the letters whichhe wrote regularly to Ursula, she fell a prey to an illness withoutapparent cause. Like a fine fruit with a worm at the core, a singlethought gnawed her heart. She lost both appetite and color. The firsttime her godfather asked her what she felt, she replied:--

"I want to see the ocean. "

"It is difficult to take you to a sea-port in the depth of winter, "answered the old man. 

"Shall I really go?" she said. 

If the wind was high, Ursula was inwardly convulsed, certain, in spiteof the learned assurances of the doctor and the abbe, that Savinienwas being tossed about in a whirlwind. Monsieur Bongrand made herhappy for days with the gift of an engraving representing a midshipmanin uniform. She read the newspapers, imagining that they would givenews of the cruiser on which her lover sailed. She devoured Cooper'ssea-tales and learned to use sea-terms. Such proofs of concentrationof feeling, often assumed by other women, were so genuine in Ursulathat she saw in dreams the coming of Savinien's letters, and neverfailed to announce them, relating the dream as a forerunner. 

"Now, " she said to the doctor the fourth time that this happened, "Iam easy; wherever Savinien may be, if he is wounded I shall know itinstantly. "

The old doctor thought over this remark so anxiously that the abbe andMonsieur Bongrand were troubled by the sorrowful expression of hisface. 

"What pains you?" they said, when Ursula had left them. 

"Will she live?" replied the doctor. "Can so tender and delicate aflower endure the trials of the heart?"

Nevertheless, the "little dreamer, " as the abbe called her, wasworking hard. She understood the importance of a fine education to awoman of the world, and all the time she did not give to her singingand to the study of harmony and composition she spent in reading thebooks chosen for her by the abbe from her godfather's rich library. And yet while leading this busy life she suffered, though withoutcomplaint. Sometimes she would sit for hours looking at Savinien'swindow. On Sundays she would leave the church behind Madame dePortenduere and watch her tenderly; for, in spite of the old lady'sharshness, she loved her as Savinien's mother. Her piety increased;she went to mass every morning, for she firmly believed that herdreams were the gift of God. 

At last her godfather, frightened by the effects produced by thisnostalgia of love, promised on her birthday to take her to Toulon tosee the departure of the fleet for Algiers. Savinien's ship formedpart of it, but he was not to be informed beforehand of theirintention. The abbe and Monsieur Bongrand kept secret the object ofthis journey, said to be for Ursula's health, which disturbed andgreatly puzzled the relations. After beholding Savinien in his navaluniform, and going on board the fine flag-ship of the admiral, to whomthe minister had given young Portenduere a special recommendation, Ursula, at her lover's entreaty, went with her godfather to Nice, andalong the shores of the Mediterranean to Genoa, where she heard of thesafe arrival of the fleet at Algiers and the landing of the troops. The doctor would have liked to continue the journey through Italy, asmuch to distract Ursula's mind as to finish, in some sense, hereducation, by enlarging her ideas through comparison with othermanners and customs and countries, and by the fascination of a landwhere the masterpieces of art can still be seen, and where so manycivilizations have left their brilliant traces. But the tidings of theopposition by the throne to the newly elected Chamber of 1830 obligedthe doctor to return to France, bringing back his treasure in aflourishing state of health and possessed of a charming little modelof the ship on which Savinien was serving. 

The elections of 1830 united into an active body the various Minoretrelations, --Desire and Goupil having formed a committee in Nemours bywhose efforts a liberal candidate was put in nomination atFontainebleau. Massin, as collector of taxes, exercised an enormousinfluence over the country electors. Five of the post master's farmerswere electors. Dionis represented eleven votes. After a few meetingsat the notary's, Cremiere, Massin, the post master, and theiradherents took a habit of assembling there. By the time the doctorreturned, Dionis's office and salon were the camp of his heirs. Thejustice of peace and the mayor, who had formed an alliance, backed bythe nobility in the neighbouring castles, to resist the liberals ofNemours, now worsted in their efforts, were more closely united thanever by their defeat. 

By the time Bongrand and the Abbe Chaperon were able to tell thedoctor by word of mouth the result of the antagonism, which wasdefined for the first time, between the two classes in Nemours (givingincidentally such importance to his heirs) Charles X. Had leftRambouillet for Cherbourg. Desire Minoret, whose opinions were thoseof the Paris bar, sent for fifteen of his friends, commanded by Goupiland mounted on horses from his father's stable, who arrived in Parison the night of the 28th. With this troop Goupil and Desire took partin the capture of the Hotel-de-Veille. Desire was decorated with theLegion of honor and appointed deputy procureur du roi atFontainebleau. Goupil received the July cross. Dionis was electedmayor of Nemours, and the city council was composed of the post master(now assistant-mayor), Massin, Cremiere, and all the adherents of thefamily faction. Bongrand retained his place only through the influenceof his son, procureur du roi at Melun, whose marriage withMademoiselle Levrault was then on the tapis. 

Seeing the three-per-cents quoted at forty-five, the doctor started bypost for Paris, and invested five hundred and forty thousand francsin shares to bearer. The rest of his fortune which amounted to abouttwo hundred and seventy thousand francs, standing in his own name inthe same funds, gave him ostensibly an income of fifteen thousandfrancs a year. He made the same disposition of Ursula's little capitalbequeathed to her by de Jordy, together with the accrued interestthereon, which gave her about fourteen hundred francs a year in herown right. La Bougival, who had laid by some five thousand francs ofher savings, did the same by the doctor's advice, receiving in futurethree hundred and fifty francs a year in dividends. These judicioustransactions, agreed on between the doctor and Monsieur Bongrand, werecarried out in perfect secrecy, thanks to the political troubles ofthe time. 

When quiet was again restored the doctor bought the little house whichadjoined his own and pulled it down so as to build a coach-house andstables on its side. To employ a capital which would have given him athousand francs a year on outbuildings seemed actual folly to theMinoret heirs. This folly, if it were one, was the beginning of a newera in the doctor's existence, for he now (at a period when horses andcarriages were almost given away) brought back from Paris three finehorses and a caleche. 

When, in the early part of November, 1830, the old man came to churchon a rainy day in the new carriage, and gave his hand to Ursula tohelp her out, all the inhabitants flocked to the square, --as much tosee the caleche and question the coachman, as to criticize thegoddaughter, to whose excessive pride and ambition Massin, Cremiere, the post master, and their wives attributed this extravagant folly ofthe old man. 

"A caleche! Hey, Massin!" cried Goupil. "Your inheritance will go attop speed now!"

"You ought to be getting good wages, Cabirolle, " said the post masterto the son of one of his conductors, who stood by the horses; "for itis to be supposed an old man of eighty-four won't use up manyhorse-shoes. What did those horses cost?"

"Four thousand francs. The caleche, though second-hand, was twothousand; but it's a fine one, the wheels are patent. "

"Yes, it's a good carriage, " said Cremiere; "and a man must be rich tobuy that style of thing. "

"Ursula means to go at a good pace, " said Goupil. "She's right; she'sshowing you how to enjoy life. Why don't you have fine carriages andhorses, papa Minoret? I wouldn't let myself be humiliated if I wereyou--I'd buy a carriage fit for a prince. "

"Come, Cabirolle, tell us, " said Massin, "is it the girl who drivesour uncle into such luxury?"

"I don't know, " said Cabirolle; "but she is almost mistress of thehouse. There are masters upon masters down from Paris. They say nowshe is going to study painting. "

"Then I shall seize the occasion to have my portrait drawn, " saidMadame Cremiere. 

In the provinces they always say a picture is drawn, not painted. 

"The old German is not dismissed, is he?" said Madame Massin. 

"He was there yesterday, " replied Cabirolle. 

"Now, " said Goupil, "you may as well give up counting on yourinheritance. Ursula is seventeen years old, and she is prettier thanever. Travel forms young people, and the little minx has got youruncle in the toils. Five or six parcels come down for her by thediligence every week, and the dressmakers and milliners come too, totry on her gowns and all the rest of it. Madame Dionis is furious. Watch for Ursula as she comes out of church and look at the littlescarf she is wearing round her neck, --real cashmere, and it cost sixhundred francs!"

If a thunderbolt had fallen in the midst of the heirs the effect wouldhave been less than that of Goupil's last words; the mischief-makerstood by rubbing his hands. 

The doctor's old green salon had been renovated by a Parisianupholsterer. Judged by the luxury displayed, he was sometimes accusedof hoarding immense wealth, sometimes of spending his capital onUrsula. The heirs called him in turn a miser and a spendthrift, butthe saying, "He's an old fool!" summed upon, on the whole, the verdictof the neighbourhood. These mistaken judgments of the little town hadthe one advantage of misleading the heirs, who never suspected thelove between Savinien and Ursula, which was the secret reason of thedoctor's expenditure. The old man took the greatest delights inaccustoming his godchild to her future station in the world. Possessing an income of over fifty thousand francs a year, it gave himpleasure to adorn his idol. 

In the month of February, 1832, the day when Ursula was eighteen, hereyes beheld Savinien in the uniform of an ensign as she looked fromher window when she rose in the morning. 

"Why didn't I know he was coming?" she said to herself. 

After the taking of Algiers, Savinien had distinguished himself by anact of courage which won him the cross. The corvette on which he wasserving was many months at sea without his being able to communicatewith the doctor; and he did not wish to leave the service withoutconsulting him. Desirous of retaining in the navy a name alreadyillustrious in its service, the new government had profited by ageneral change of officers to make Savinien an ensign. Having obtainedleave of absence for fifteen days, the new officer arrived from Toulonby the mail, in time for Ursula's fete, intending to consult thedoctor at the same time. 

"He has come!" cried Ursula rushing into her godfather's bedroom. 

"Very good, " he answered; "I can guess what brings him, and he may nowstay in Nemours. "

"Ah! that's my birthday present--it is all in that sentence, " shesaid, kissing him. 

On a sign, which she ran up to make from her window, Savinien cameover at once; she longed to admire him, for he seemed to her sochanged for the better. Military service does, in fact, give a certaingrave decision to the air and carriage and gestures of a man, and anerect bearing which enables the most superficial observer to recognizea military man even in plain clothes. The habit of command producesthis result. Ursula loved Savinien the better for it, and took achildlike pleasure in walking round the garden with him, taking hisarm, and hearing him relate the part he played (as midshipman) in thetaking of Algiers. Evidently Savinien had taken the city. The doctor, who had been watching them from his window as he dressed, soon camedown. Without telling the viscount everything, he did say that, incase Madame de Portenduere consented to his marriage with Ursula, thefortune of his godchild would make his naval pay superfluous. 

"Alas!" said Savinien. "It will take a great deal of time to overcomemy mother's opposition. Before I left her to enter the navy she wasplaced between two alternatives, --either to consent to my marryingUrsula or else to see me only from time to time and to know me exposedto the dangers of the profession; and you see she chose to let me go. "

"But, Savinien, we shall be together, " said Ursula, taking his handand shaking it with a sort of impatience. 

To see each other and not to part, --that was the all of love to her;she saw nothing beyond it; and her pretty gesture and the petulanttone of her voice expressed such innocence that Savinien and thedoctor were both moved by it. The resignation was written anddespatched, and Ursula's fete received full glory from the presence ofher betrothed. A few months later, towards the month of May, thehome-life of the doctor's household had resumed the quite tenor of itsway but with one welcome visitor the more. The attentions of the youngviscount were soon interpreted in the town as those of a futurehusband, --all the more because his manners and those of Ursula, whether in church, or on the promenade, though dignified and reserved, betrayed the understanding of their hearts. Dionis pointed out to theheirs that the doctor had never asked Madame de Portenduere for theinterest of his money, three years of which was now due. 

"She'll be forced to yield, and consent to this derogatory marriage ofher son, " said the notary. "If such a misfortune happens it isprobable that the greater part of your uncle's fortune will serve forwhat Basile calls 'an irresistible argument. '"

 CHAPTER XIV

 URSULA AGAIN ORPHANED

The irritation of the heirs, when convinced that their uncle lovedUrsula too well not to secure her happiness at their expense, becameas underhand as it was bitter. Meeting in Dionis's salon (as they haddone every evening since the revolution of 1830) they inveighedagainst the lovers, and seldom separated without discussing some wayof circumventing the old man. Zelie, who had doubtless profited by thefall in the Funds, as the doctor had done, to invest some, at least, of her enormous gains, was bitterest of them all against the orphangirl and the Portendueres. One evening, when Goupil, who usuallyavoided the dullness of these meetings, had come in to learn somethingof the affairs of the town which were under discussion, Zelie's hatredwas freshly excited; she had seen the doctor, Ursula, and Savinienreturning in the caleche from a country drive, with an air of intimacythat told all. 

"I'd give thirty thousand francs if God would call uncle to himselfbefore the marriage of young Portenduere with that affected minx cantake place, " she said. 

Goupil accompanied Monsieur and Madame Minoret to the middle of theirgreat courtyard, and there said, looking round to see if they werequite alone:

"Will you give me the means of buying Dionis's practice? If you will, I will break off the marriage between Portenduere and Ursula. "

"How?" asked the colossus. 

"Do you think I am such a fool as to tell you my plan?" said thenotary's head clerk. 

"Well, my lad, separate them, and we'll see what we can do, " saidZelie. 

"I don't embark in any such business on a 'we'll see. ' The young manis a fire-eater who might kill me; I ought to be rough-shod and asgood a hand with a sword or a pistol as he is. Set me up in business, and I'll keep my word. "

"Prevent the marriage and I will set you up, " said the post master. 

"It is nine months since you have been thinking of lending me a paltryfifteen thousand francs to buy Lecoeur's practice, and you expect meto trust you now! Nonsense; you'll lose your uncle's property, andserve you right. "

"It if were only a matter of fifteen thousand francs and Lecoeur'spractice, that might be managed, " said Zelie; "but to give securityfor you in a hundred and fifty thousand is another thing. "

"But I'll do my part, " said Goupil, flinging a seductive look atZelie, which encountered the imperious glance of the post mistress. 

The effect was that of venom on steel. 

"We can wait, " said Zelie. 

"The devil's own spirit is in you, " thought Goupil. "If I ever catchthat pair in my power, " he said to himself as he left the yard, "I'llsqueeze them like lemons. "

By cultivating the society of the doctor, the abbe, and MonsieurBongrand, Savinien proved the excellence of his character. The love ofthis young man for Ursula, so devoid of self-interest, and sopersistent, interested the three friends deeply, and they now neverseparated the lovers in their thoughts. Soon the monotony of thispatriarchal life, and the certainty of a future before them, gave totheir affection a fraternal character. The doctor often left the pairalone together. He judged the young man rightly; he saw him kiss herhand on arriving, but he knew he would ask no kiss when alone withher, so deeply did the lover respect the innocence, the frankness ofthe young girl, whose excessive sensibility, often tried, taught himthat a harsh word, a cold look, or the alternations of gentleness androughness might kill her. The only freedom between the two took placebefore the eyes of the old man in the evenings. 

Two years, full of secret happiness, passed thus, --without otherevents than the fruitless efforts made by the young man to obtain fromhis mother her consent to his marriage. He talked to her sometimes forhours together. She listened and made no answer to his entreaties, other than by Breton silence or a positive denial. 

At nineteen years of age Ursula, elegant in appearance, a finemusician, and well brought up, had nothing more to learn; she wasperfected. The fame of her beauty and grace and education spread far. The doctor was called upon to decline the overtures of Madamed'Aiglemont, who was thinking of Ursula for her eldest son. Six monthslater, in spite of the secrecy the doctor and Ursula maintained onthis subject, Savinien heard of it. Touched by so much delicacy, hemade use of the incident in another attempt to vanquish his mother'sobstinacy; but she merely replied:--

"If the d'Aiglemonts choose to ally themselves ill, is that any reasonwhy we should do so?"

In December, 1834, the kind and now truly pious old doctor, theneighty-eight years old, declined visibly. When seen out of doors, hisface pinched and wan and his eyes pale, all the town talked of hisapproaching death. "You'll soon know results, " said the community tothe heirs. In truth the old man's death had all the attraction of aproblem. But the doctor himself did not know he was ill; he had hisillusions, and neither poor Ursula nor Savinien nor Bongrand nor theabbe were willing to enlighten him as to his condition. The Nemoursdoctor who came to see him every day did not venture to prescribe. OldMinoret felt no pain; his lamp of life was gently going it. His mindcontinued firm and clear and powerful. In old men thus constituted thesoul governs the body, and gives it strength to die erect. The abbe, anxious not to hasten the fatal end, released his parishioner from theduty of hearing mass in church, and allowed him to read the servicesat home, for the doctor faithfully attended to all his religiousduties. The nearer he came to the grave the more he loved God; thelights eternal shone upon all difficulties and explained them more andmore clearly to his mind. Early in the year Ursula persuaded him tosell the carriage and horses and dismiss Cabirolle. Monsieur Bongrand, whose uneasiness about Ursula's future was far from quieted by thedoctor's half-confidence, boldly opened the subject one evening andshowed his old friend the importance of making Ursula legally of age. Still the old man, though he had often consulted the justice of peace, would not reveal to him the secret of his provision for Ursula, thoughhe agreed to the necessity of securing her independence by majority. The more Monsieur Bongrand persisted in his efforts to discover themeans selected by his old friend to provide for his darling the morewary the doctor became. 

"Why not secure the thing, " said Bongrand, "why run any risks?"

"When you are between two risks, " replied the doctor, "avoid the mostrisky. "

Bongrand carried through the business of making Ursula of age sopromptly that the papers were ready by the day she was twenty. Thatanniversary was the last pleasure of the old doctor who, seizedperhaps with a presentiment of his end, gave a little ball, to whichhe invited all the young people in the families of Dionis, Cremiere, Minoret, and Massin. Savinien, Bongrand, the abbe and his twoassistant priests, the Nemours doctor, and Mesdames Zelie Minoret, Massin, and Cremiere, together with old Schmucke, were the guests at agrand dinner which preceded the ball. 

"I feel I am going, " said the old man to the notary towards the closeof the evening. "I beg you to come to-morrow and draw up myguardianship account with Ursula, so as not to complicate my propertyafter my death. Thank God! I have not withdrawn one penny from myheirs, --I have disposed of nothing but my income. Messieurs Cremiere, Massin, and Minoret my nephew are members of the family councilappointed for Ursula, and I wish them to be present at the renderingof my account. "

These words, heard by Massin and quickly passed from one to anotherround the ball-room, poured balm into the minds of the three families, who had lived in perpetual alternations of hope and fear, sometimesthinking they were certain of wealth, oftener that they weredisinherited. 

When, about two in the morning, the guests were all gone and no oneremained in the salon but Savinien, Bongrand, and the abbe, the olddoctor said, pointing to Ursula, who was charming in her ball dress;"To you, my friends, I confide her! A few days more, and I shall behere no longer to protect her. Put yourselves between her and theworld until she is married, --I fear for her. "

The words made a painful impression. The guardian's account, rendereda day or two later in presence of the family council, showed thatDoctor Minoret owed a balance to his ward of ten thousand six hundredfrancs from the bequest of Monsieur de Jordy, and also from a littlecapital of gifts made by the doctor himself to Ursula during the lastfifteen years, on birthdays and other anniversaries. 

This formal rendering of the account was insisted on by the justice ofthe peace, who feared (unhappily, with too much reason) the results ofDoctor Minoret's death. 

The following day the old man was seized with a weakness whichcompelled him to keep his bed. In spite of the reserve which alwayssurrounded the doctor's house and kept it from observation, the newsof his approaching death spread through the town, and the heirs beganto run hither and thither through the streets, like the pearls of achaplet when the string is broken. Massin called at the house to learnthe truth, and was told by Ursula herself that the doctor was in bed. The Nemours doctor had remarked that whenever old Minoret took to hisbed he would die; and therefore in spite of the cold, the heirs tooktheir stand in the street, on the square, at their own doorsteps, talking of the event so long looked for, and watching for the momentwhen the priests should appear, bearing the sacrament, with all theparaphernalia customary in the provinces, to the dying man. Accordingly, two days later, when the Abbe Chaperon, with an assistantand the choir-boys, preceded by the sacristan bearing the cross, passed along the Grand'Rue, all the heirs joined the procession, toget an entrance to the house and see that nothing was abstracted, andlay their eager hands upon its coveted treasures at the earliestmoment. 

When the doctor saw, behind the clergy, the row of kneeling heirs, whoinstead of praying were looking at him with eyes that were brighterthan the tapers, he could not restrain a smile. The abbe turned round, saw them, and continued to say the prayers slowly. The post master wasthe first to abandon the kneeling posture; his wife followed him. Massin, fearing that Zelie and her husband might lay hands on someornament, joined them in the salon, where all the heirs were presentlyassembled one by one. 

"He is too honest a man to steal extreme unction, " said Cremiere; "wemay be sure of his death now. "

"Yes, we shall each get about twenty thousand francs a year, " repliedMadame Massin. 

"I have an idea, " said Zelie, "that for the last three years he hasn'tinvested anything--he grew fond of hoarding. "

"Perhaps the money is in the cellar, " whispered Massin to Cremiere. 

"I hope we shall be able to find it, " said Minoret-Levrault. 

"But after what he said at the ball we can't have any doubt, " criedMadame Massin. 

"In any case, " began Cremiere, "how shall we manage? Shall we divide;shall we go to law; or could we draw lots? We are adults, you know--"

A discussion, which soon became angry, now arose as to the method ofprocedure. At the end of half an hour a perfect uproar of voices, Zelie's screeching organ detaching itself from the rest, resounded inthe courtyard and even in the street. 

The noise reached the doctor's ears; he heard the words, "The house--the house is worth thirty thousand francs. I'll take it at that, "said, or rather bellowed by Cremiere. 

"Well, we'll take what it's worth, " said Zelie, sharply. 

"Monsieur l'abbe, " said the old man to the priest, who remained besidehis friend after administering the communion, "help me to die inpeace. My heirs, like those of Cardinal Ximenes, are capable ofpillaging the house before my death, and I have no monkey to reviveme. Go and tell them I will have none of them in my house. "

The priest and the doctor of the town went downstairs and repeated themessage of the dying man, adding, in their indignation, strong wordsof their own. 

"Madame Bougival, " said the doctor, "close the iron gate and allow noone to enter; even the dying, it seems, can have no peace. Preparemustard poultices and apply them to the soles of Monsieur's feet. "

"Your uncle is not dead, " said the abbe, "and he may live some timelonger. He wishes for absolute silence, and no one beside him but hisniece. What a difference between the conduct of that young girl andyours!"

"Old hypocrite!" exclaimed Cremiere. "I shall keep watch of him. It ispossible he's plotting something against our interests. "

The post master had already disappeared into the garden, intending towatch there and wait his chance to be admitted to the house as anassistant. He now returned to it very softly, his boots making nonoise, for there were carpets on the stairs and corridors. He was ableto reach the door of his uncle's room without being heard. The abbeand the doctor had left the house; La Bougival was making thepoultices. 

"Are we quite alone?" said the old man to his godchild. 

Ursula stood on tiptoe and looked into the courtyard. 

"Yes, " she said; "the abbe has just closed the gate after him. "

"My darling child, " said the dying man, "my hours, my minutes even, are counted. I have not been a doctor for nothing; I shall not lasttill evening. Do not cry, my Ursula, " he said, fearing to beinterrupted by the child's weeping, "but listen to me carefully; itconcerns your marriage to Savinien. As soon as La Bougival comes backgo down to the pagoda, --here is the key, --lift the marble top of theBoule buffet and you will find a letter beneath it, sealed andaddressed to you; take it and come back here, for I cannot die easyunless I see it in your hands. When I am dead do not let any one knowof it immediately, but send for Monsieur de Portenduere; read theletter together; swear to me now, in his name and your own, that youwill carry out my last wishes. When Savinien has obeyed me, thenannounce my death, but not till then. The comedy of the heirs willbegin. God grant those monsters may not ill-treat you. "

"Yes godfather. "

The post master did not listen to the end of this scene; he slippedaway on tip-toe, remembering that the lock of the study was on thelibrary side of the door. He had been present in former days at anargument between the architect and a locksmith, the latter declaringthat if the pagoda were entered by the window on the river it would bemuch safer to put the lock of the door opening into the library on thelibrary side. Dazzled by his hopes, and his ears flushed with blood, Minoret sprang the lock with the point of his knife as rapidly as aburglar could have done it. He entered the study, followed thedoctor's directions, took the package of papers without opening it, relocked the door, put everything in order, and went into thedining-room and sat down, waiting till La Bougival had gone upstairswith the poultice before he ventured to leave the house. He then madehis escape, --all the more easily because poor Ursula lingered to seethat La Bougival applied the poultice properly. 

"The letter! the letter!" cried the old man, in a dying voice. "Obeyme; take the key. I must see you with that letter in your hand. "

The words were said with so wild a look that La Bougival exclaimed toUrsula:--

"Do what he asks at once or you will kill him. "

She kissed his forehead, took the key and went down. A moment later, recalled by a cry from La Bougival, she ran back. The old man lookedat her eagerly. Seeing her hands empty, he rose in his bed, tried tospeak, and died with a horrible gasp, his eyes haggard with fear. Thepoor girl, who saw death for the first time, fell on her knees andburst into tears. La Bougival closed the old man's eyes andstraightened him on the bed; then she ran to call Savinien; but theheirs, who stood at the corner of the street, like crows watching tilla horse is buried before they scratch at the ground and turn it overwith beak and claw, flocked in with the celerity of birds of prey. 

 CHAPTER XV

 THE DOCTOR'S WILL

While these events were taking place the post master had hurried hometo open the mysterious package and know its contents. 

To my dear Ursula Mirouet, daughter of my natural half-brother, Joseph Mirouet, and Dinah Grollman:--

My dear Angel, --The fatherly affection I bear you--and which youhave so fully justified--came not only from the promise I gaveyour father to take his place, but also from your resemblance tomy wife, Ursula Mirouet, whose grace, intelligence, frankness, andcharm you constantly recall to my mind. Your position as thedaughter of a natural son of my father-in-law might invalidate alltestamentary bequests made by me in your favor--

"The old rascal!" cried the post master. 

Had I adopted you the result might also have been a lawsuit, and Ishrank from the idea of transmitting my fortune to you bymarriage, for I might live years and thus interfere with yourhappiness, which is now delayed only by Madame de Portenduere. Having weighted these difficulties carefully, and wishing to leaveyou enough money to secure to you a prosperous existence--

"The scoundrel, he has thought of everything!"

 --without injuring my heirs--

"The Jesuit! as if he did not owe us every penny of his money!"

--I intend you to have the savings from my income which I have forthe last eighteen years steadily invested, by the help of mynotary, seeking to make you thereby as happy as any one can bemade by riches. Without means, your education and your lofty ideaswould cause you unhappiness. Besides, you ought to bring a liberaldowry to the fine young man who loves you. You will therefore findin the middle of the third volume of Pandects, folio, bound in redmorocco (the last volume on the first shelf above the little tablein the library, on the side of the room next the salon), threecertificates of Funds in the three-per-cents, made out to bearer, each amounting to twelve thousand francs a year--

"What depths of wickedness!" screamed the post master. "Ah! God wouldnot permit me to be so defrauded. "

Take these at once, and also some uninvested savings made to thisdate, which you will find in the preceding volume. Remember, mydarling child, that you must obey a wish that has made thehappiness of my whole life; a wish that will force me to ask theintervention of God should you disobey me. But, to guard againstall scruples in your dear conscience--for I well know how ready itis to torture you--you will find herewith a will in due formbequeathing these certificates to Monsieur Savinien de Portenduere. So, whether you possess them in your own name, or whether they cometo you from him you love, they will be, in every sense, yourlegitimate property. 

Your godfather, Denis Minoret. 

To this letter was annexed the following paper written on a sheet ofstamped paper. 

This is my will: I, Denis Minoret, doctor of medicine, settled inNemours, being of sound mind and body, as the date of thisdocument will show, do bequeath my soul to God, imploring him topardon my errors in view of my sincere repentance. Next, havingfound in Monsieur le Vicomte Savinien de Portenduere a true andhonest affection for me, I bequeath to him the sum of thirty-sixthousand francs a year from the Funds, at three per cent, the saidbequest to take precedence of all inheritance accruing to myheirs. 

Written by my own hand, at Nemours, on the 11th of January, 1831. 

Denis Minoret. 

Without an instant's hesitation the post master, who had lockedhimself into his wife's bedroom to insure being alone, looked aboutfor the tinder-box, and received two warnings from heaven by theextinction of two matches which obstinately refused to light. Thethird took fire. He burned the letter and the will on the hearth andburied the vestiges of paper and sealing-wax in the ashes by way ofsuperfluous caution. Then, allured by the thought of possessingthirty-six thousand francs a year of which his wife knew nothing, hereturned at full speed to his uncle's house, spurred by the only idea, a clear-cut, simple idea, which was able to piece and penetrate hisdull brain. Finding the house invaded by the three families, nowmasters of the place, he trembled lest he should be unable toaccomplish a project to which he gave no reflection whatever, exceptso far as to fear the obstacles. 

"What are you doing here?" he said to Massin and Cremiere. "We can'tleave the house and the property to be pillaged. We are the heirs, butwe can't camp here. You, Cremiere, go to Dionis at once and tell himto come and certify to the death; I can't draw up the mortuarycertificate for an uncle, though I am assistant-mayor. You, Massin, goand ask old Bongrand to attach the seals. As for you, ladies, " headded, turning to his wife and Mesdames Cremiere and Massin, "go andlook after Ursula; then nothing can be stolen. Above all, close theiron gate and don't let any one leave the house. "

The women, who felt the justice of this remark, ran to Ursula'sbedroom, where they found the noble girl, so cruelly suspected, on herknees before God, her face covered with tears. Minoret, suspectingthat the women would not long remain with Ursula, went at once to thelibrary, found the volume, opened it, took the three certificates, andfound in the other volume about thirty bank notes. In spite of hisbrutal nature the colossus felt as though a peal of bells were ringingin each ear. The blood whistled in his temples as he committed thetheft; cold as the weather was, his shirt was wet on his back; hislegs gave way under him and he fell into a chair in the salon as if anaxe had fallen on his head. 

"How the inheritance of money loosens a man's tongue! Did you hearMinoret?" said Massin to Cremiere as they hurried through the town. "'Go here, go there, ' just as if he knew everything. "

"Yes, for a dull beast like him he had a certain air of--"

"Stop!" said Massin, alarmed at a sudden thought. "His wife is there;they've got some plan! Do you do both errands; I'll go back. "

Just as the post master fell into the chair he saw at the gate theheated face of the clerk of the court who returned to the house ofdeath with the celerity of a weasel. 

"Well, what is it now?" asked the post master, unlocking the gate forhis co-heir. 

"Nothing; I have come back to be present at the sealing, " answeredMassin, giving him a savage look. 

"I wish those seals were already on, so that we could go home, " saidMinoret. 

"We shall have to put a watcher over them, " said Massin. "La Bougivalis capable of anything in the interests of that minx. We'll put Goupilthere. "

"Goupil!" said the post master; "put a rat in the meal!"

"Well, let's consider, " returned Massin. "To-night they'll watch thebody; the seals can be affixed in an hour; our wives could look afterthem. To-morrow we'll have the funeral at twelve o'clock. But theinventory can't be made under a week. "

"Let's get rid of that girl at once, " said the colossus; "then we cansafely leave the watchman of the town-hall to look after the house andthe seals. "

"Good, " cried Massin. "You are the head of the Minoret family. "

"Ladies, " said Minoret, "be good enough to stay in the salon; we can'tthink of our dinner to-day; the seals must be put on at once for thesecurity of all interests. "

He took his wife apart and told her Massin's proposition about Ursula. The women, whose hearts were full of vengeance against the minx, asthey called her, hailed the idea of turning her out. Bongrand arrivedwith his assistants to apply the seals, and was indignant when therequest was made to him, by Zelie and Madame Massin, as a near friendof the deceased, to tell Ursula to leave the house. 

"Go and turn her out of her father's house, her benefactor's houseyourselves, " he cried. "Go! you who owe your inheritance to thegenerosity of her soul; take her by the shoulders and fling her intothe street before the eyes of the whole town! You think her capable ofrobbing you? Well, appoint a watcher of the seals; you have a right todo that. But I tell you at once I shall put no seals on Ursula's room;she has a right to that room, and everything in it is her ownproperty. I shall tell her what her rights are, and tell her too toput everything that belongs to her in this house in that room-- Oh! inyour presence, " he said, hearing a growl of dissatisfaction among theheirs. 

"What do you think of that?" said the collector to the post master andthe women, who seemed stupefied by the angry address of Bongrand. 

"Call _him_ a magistrate!" cried the post master. 

Ursula meanwhile was sitting on her little sofa in a half-faintingcondition, her head thrown back, her braids unfastened, while everynow and then her sobs broke forth. Her eyes were dim and their lidsswollen; she was, in fact, in a state of moral and physicalprostration which might have softened the hardest hearts--except thoseof the heirs. 

"Ah! Monsieur Bongrand, after my happy birthday comes death andmourning, " she said, with the poetry natural to her. "You know, _you_, what he was. In twenty years he never said an impatient word to me. Ibelieved he would live a hundred years. He has been my mother, " shecried, "my good, kind mother. "

These simple thoughts brought torrents of tears from her eyes, interrupted by sobs; then she fell back exhausted. 

"My child, " said the justice of peace, hearing the heirs on thestaircase. "You have a lifetime before you in which to weep, but youhave now only a moment to attend to your interests. Gather everythingthat belongs to you in this house and put it into your own room atonce. The heirs insist on my affixing the seals. "

"Ah! his heirs may take everything if they choose, " cried Ursula, sitting upright under an impulse of savage indignation. "I havesomething here, " she added, striking her breast, "which is far moreprecious--"

"What is it?" said the post master, who with Massin at his heels nowshowed his brutal face. 

"The remembrances of his virtues, of his life, of his words--an imageof his celestial soul, " she said, her eyes and face glowing as sheraised her hand with a glorious gesture. 

"And a key!" cried Massin, creeping up to her like a cat and seizing akey which fell from the bosom of her dress in her sudden movement. 

"Yes, " she said, blushing, "that is the key of his study; he sent methere at the moment he was dying. "

The two men glanced at each other with horrid smiles, and then atMonsieur Bongrand, with a meaning look of degrading suspicion. Ursulawho intercepted it, rose to her feet, pale as if the blood had lefther body. Her eyes sent forth the lightnings that perhaps can issueonly at some cost of life, as she said in a choking voice:--

"Monsieur Bongrand, everything in this room is mine through thekindness of my godfather; they may have it all; I have nothing on mebut the clothes I wear. I shall leave the house and never return toit. "

She went to her godfather's room, and no entreaties could make herleave it, --the heirs, who now began to be slightly ashamed of theirconduct, endeavoring to persuade her. She requested Monsieur Bongrandto engage two rooms for her at the "Vieille Poste" inn until she couldfind some lodging in town where she could live with La Bougival. Shereturned to her own room for her prayer-book, and spent the night, with the abbe, his assistant, and Savinien, in weeping and prayingbeside her uncle's body. Savinien came, after his mother had gone tobed, and knelt, without a word, beside his Ursula. She smiled at himsadly, and thanked him for coming faithfully to share her troubles. 

"My child, " said Monsieur Bongrand, bring her a large package, "one ofyour uncle's heirs has taken these necessary articles from yourdrawers, for the seals cannot be opened for several days; after thatyou will recover everything that belongs to you. I have, for your ownsake, placed the seals on your room. "

"Thank you, " she replied, pressing his hand. "Look at him again, --heseems to sleep, does he not?"

The old man's face wore that flower of fleeting beauty which restsupon the features of the dead who die a painless death; light appearedto radiate from it. 

"Did he give you anything secretly before he died?" whispered M. Bongrand. 

"Nothing, " she said; "he spoke only of a letter. "

"Good! it will certainly be found, " said Bongrand. "How fortunate foryou that the heirs demanded the sealing. "

At daybreak Ursula bade adieu to the house where her happy youth waspassed; more particularly, to the modest chamber in which her lovebegan. So dear to her was it that even in this hour of darkest grieftears of regret rolled down her face for the dear and peaceful haven. With one last glance at Savinien's windows she left the room and thehouse, and went to the inn accompanied by La Bougival, who carried thepackage, by Monsieur Bongrand, who gave her his arm, and by Savinien, her true protector. 

Thus it happened that in spite of all his efforts and cautions theworst fears of the justice of peace were realized; he was now to seeUrsula without means and at the mercy of her benefactor's heirs. 

The next afternoon the whole town attended the doctor's funeral. Whenthe conduct of the heirs to his adopted daughter was publicly known, avast majority of the people thought it natural and necessary. Aninheritance was involved; the good man was known to have hoarded;Ursula might think she had rights; the heirs were only defending theirproperty; she had humbled them enough during their uncle's lifetime, for he had treated them like dogs and sent them about their business. 

Desire Minoret, who was not going to do wonders in life (so said thosewho envied his father), came down for the funeral. Ursula was unableto be present, for she was in bed with a nervous fever, caused partlyby the insults of the heirs and partly by her heavy affliction. 

"Look at that hypocrite weeping, " said some of the heirs, pointing toSavinien, who was deeply affected by the doctor's death. 

"The question is, " said Goupil, "has he any good grounds for weeping. Don't laugh too soon, my friends; the seals are not yet removed. "

"Pooh!" said Minoret, who had good reason to know the truth, "you arealways frightening us about nothing. "

As the funeral procession left the church to proceed to the cemetery, a bitter mortification was inflicted on Goupil; he tried to takeDesire's arm, but the latter withdrew it and turned away from hisformer comrade in presence of all Nemours. 

"I won't be angry, or I couldn't get revenge, " thought the notary'sclerk, whose dry heart swelled in his bosom like a sponge. 

Before breaking the seals and making the inventory, it took some timefor the procureur du roi, who is the legal guardian of orphans, tocommission Monsieur Bongrand to act in his place. After that was donethe settlement of the Minoret inheritance (nothing else being talkedof in the town for ten days) began with all the legal formalities. Dionis had his pickings; Goupil enjoyed some mischief-making; and asthe business was profitable the sessions were many. After the first ofthese sessions all parties breakfasted together; notary, clerk, heirs, and witnesses drank the best wines in the doctor's cellar. 

In the provinces, and especially in little towns where every one livesin his own house, it is sometimes very difficult to find a lodging. When a man buys a business of any kind the dwelling-house is almostalways included in the purchase. Monsieur Bongrand saw no other way ofremoving Ursula from the village inn than to buy a small house on theGrand'Rue at the corner of the bridge over the Loing. The littlebuilding had a front door opening on a corridor, and one room on theground-floor with two windows on the street; behind this came thekitchen, with a glass door opening to an inner courtyard about thirtyfeet square. A small staircase, lighted on the side towards the riverby small windows, led to the first floor where there were threechambers, and above these were two attic rooms. Monsieur Bongrandborrowed two thousand francs from La Bougival's savings to pay thefirst instalment of the price, --six thousand francs, --and obtainedgood terms for payment of the rest. As Ursula wished to buy heruncle's books, Bongrand knocked down the partition between two roomson the bedroom floor, finding that their united length was the same asthat of the doctor's library, and gave room for his bookshelves. 

Savinien and Bongrand urged on the workmen who were cleaning, painting, and otherwise renewing the tiny place, so that before theend of March Ursula was able to leave the inn and take up her abode inthe ugly house; where, however, she found a bedroom exactly like theone she had left; for it was filled with all her furniture, claimed bythe justice of peace when the seals were removed. La Bougival, sleeping in the attic, could be summoned by a bell placed near thehead of the young girl's bed. The room intended for the books, thesalon on the ground-floor and the kitchen, though still unfurnished, had been hung with fresh papers and repainted, and only awaited thepurchases which the young girl hoped to make when her godfather'seffects were sold. 

Though the strength of Ursula's character was well known to the abbeand Monsieur Bongrand, they both feared the sudden change from thecomfort and elegancies to which her uncle had accustomed her to thisbarren and denuded life. As for Savinien he wept over it. He did, infact, make private payments to the workman and to the upholsterer, sothat Ursula should perceive no difference between the new chamber andthe old one. But the young girl herself, whose happiness now lay inSavinien's own eyes, showed the gentlest resignation, which endearedher more and more to her two old friends, and proved to them for thehundredth time that no troubles but those of the heart could make hersuffer. The grief she felt for the loss of her godfather was far toodeep to let her even feel the bitterness of her change of fortune, though it added fresh obstacles to her marriage. Savinien's distressin seeing her thus reduced did her so much harm that she whispered tohim, as they came from mass on the morning on the day when she firstwent to live in her new house:

"Love could not exist without patience; let us wait. "

As soon as the form of the inventory was drawn up, Massin, advised byGoupil (who turned to him under the influence of his secret hatred tothe post master), summoned Monsieur and Madame de Portenduere to payoff the mortgage which had now elapsed, together with the interestaccruing thereon. The old lady was bewildered at a summons to pay onehundred and twenty-nine thousand five hundred and seventeen francswithin twenty-four hours under pain of execution on her house. It wasimpossible for her to borrow the money. Savinien went toFontainebleau to consult a lawyer. 

"You are dealing with a bad set of people who will not compromise, "was the lawyer's opinion. "They intend to sue in the matter and getyour farm at Bordieres. The best way for you would be to make avoluntary sale of it and so escape costs. "

This dreadful news broke down the old lady. Her son very gentlypointed out to her that had she consented to his marriage in Minoret'slife-time, the doctor would have left his property to Ursula's husbandand they would to-day have been opulent instead of being, as they nowwere, in the depths of poverty. Though said without reproach, thisargument annihilated the poor woman even more than the thought of hercoming ejectment. When Ursula heard of this catastrophe she wasstupefied with grief, having scarcely recovered from her fever, andthe blow which the heirs had already dealt her. To love and be unableto succor the man she loves, --that is one of the most dreadful of allsufferings to the soul of a noble and sensitive woman. 

"I wished to buy my uncle's house, " she said, "now I will buy yourmother's. "

"Can you?" said Savinien. "You are a minor, and you cannot sell outyour Funds without formalities to which the procureur du roi, now yourlegal guardian, would not agree. We shall not resist. The whole townwill be glad to see the discomfiture of a noble family. Thesebourgeois are like hounds after a quarry. Fortunately, I still haveten thousand francs left, on which I can support my mother till thisdeplorable matter is settled. Besides, the inventory of yourgodfather's property is not yet finished; Monsieur Bongrand stillthinks he shall find something for you. He is as much astonished as Iam that you seem to be left without fortune. The doctor so often spokeboth to him and to me of the future he had prepared for you thatneither of us can understand this conclusion. "

"Pooh!" she said; "so long as I can buy my godfather's books andfurniture and prevent their being dispersed, I am content. "

"But who knows the price these infamous creatures will set on anythingyou want?"

Nothing was talked of from Montargis to Fontainebleau but the millionfor which the Minoret heirs were searching. But the most minute searchmade in every corner of the house after the seals were removed, brought no discovery. The one hundred and twenty-nine thousand francsof the Portenduere debt, the capital of the fifteen thousand a year inthe three per cents (then quoted at 76), the house, valued at fortythousand francs, and its handsome furniture, produced a total of aboutsix hundred thousand francs, which to most persons seemed a comfortingsum. But what had become of the money the doctor must have saved?

Minoret began to have gnawing anxieties. La Bougival and Savinien, whopersisted in believing, as did the justice of peace, in the existenceof a will, came every day at the close of each session to find outfrom Bongrand the results of the day's search. The latter wouldsometimes exclaim, before the agents and the heirs were fairly out ofhearing, "I can't understand the thing!" Bongrand, Savinien, and theabbe often declared to each other that the doctor, who received nointerest from the Portenduere loan, could not have kept his house ashe did on fifteen thousand francs a year. This opinion, openlyexpressed, made the post master turn livid more than once. 

"Yet they and I have rummaged everywhere, " said Bongrand, --"they tofind money, and I to find a will in favor of Monsieur de Portenduere. They have sifted the ashes, lifted the marbles, felt of the slippers, bored into the wood-work of the beds, emptied the mattresses, rippedup the quilts, turned his eider-down inside-out, examined every inchof paper piece by piece, searched the drawers, dug up the cellar floor--and I have urged on their devastations. "

"What do you think about it?" said the abbe. 

"The will has been suppressed by one of the heirs. "

"But where's the property?"

"We may whistle for it!"

"Perhaps the will is hidden in the library, " said Savinien. 

"Yes, and for that reason I don't dissuade Ursula from buying it. Ifit were not for that, it would be absurd to let her put every penny ofher ready money into books she will never open. "

At first the whole town believed the doctor's niece had got possessionof the unfound capital; but when it was known positively that fourteenhundred francs a year and her gifts constituted her whole fortune thesearch of the doctor's house and furniture excited a more wide-spreadcuriosity than before. Some said the money would be found in bankbills hidden away in the furniture, others that the old man hadslipped them into his books. The sale of the effects exhibited aspectacle of the most extraordinary precautions on the part of theheirs. Dionis, who was doing duty as auctioneeer, declared, as eachlot was cried out, that the heirs only sold the article (whatever itwas) and not what it might contain; then, before allowing it to betaken away it was subjected to a final investigation, being thumpedand sounded; and when at last it left the house the sellers followedwith the looks a father might cast upon a son who was starting forIndia. 

"Ah, mademoiselle, " cried La Bougival, returning from the firstsession in despair, "I shall not go again. Monsieur Bongrand is right, you could never bear the sight. Everything is ticketed. All the townis coming and going just as in the street; the handsome furniture isbeing ruined, they even stand upon it; the whole place is such amuddle that a hen couldn't find her chicks. You'd think there had beena fire. Lots of things are in the courtyard; the closets are all open, and nothing in them. Oh! the poor dear man, it's well he died, thesight would have killed him. "

Bongrand, who bought for Ursula certain articles which her unclecherished, and which were suitable for her little house, did notappear at the sale of the library. Shrewder than the heirs, whosecupidity might have run up the price of the books had they known hewas buying them for Ursula, he commissioned a dealer in old booksliving in Melun to buy them for him. As a result of the heir's anxietythe whole library was sold book by book. Three thousand volumes wereexamined, one by one, held by the two sides of the binding and shakenso that loose papers would infallibly fall out. The whole amount ofthe purchases on Ursula's account amounted to six thousand fivehundred francs or thereabouts. The book-cases were not allowed toleave the premises until carefully examined by a cabinet-maker, brought down from Paris to search for secret drawers. When at lastMonsieur Bongrand gave orders to take the books and the bookcases toMademoiselle Mirouet's house the heirs were tortured with vague fears, not dissipated until in course of time they saw how poorly she lived. 

Minoret bought up his uncle's house, the value of which his co-heirsran up to fifty thousand francs, imagining that the post masterexpected to find a treasure in the walls; in fact the house was soldwith a reservation on this subject. Two weeks later Minoret disposedof his post establishment, with all the coaches and horses, to the sonof a rich farmer, and went to live in his uncle's house, where hespent considerable sums in repairing and refurnishing the rooms. Bymaking this move he thoughtlessly condemned himself to live withinsight of Ursula. 

"I hope, " he said to Dionis the day when Madame de Portenduere wassummoned to pay her debt, "that we shall soon be rid of those nobles;after they are gone we'll drive out the rest. "

"That old woman with fourteen quarterings, " said Goupil, "won't wantto witness her own disaster; she'll go and die in Brittany, where shecan manage to find a wife for her son. "

"No, " said the notary, who had that morning drawn out a deed of saleat Bongrand's request. "Ursula has just bought the house she is livingin. "

"That cursed fool does everything she can to annoy me!" cried the postmaster imprudently. 

"What does it signify to you whether she lives in Nemours or not?"asked Goupil, surprised at the annoyance which the colossus betrayed. 

"Don't you know, " answered Minoret, turning as red as a poppy, "thatmy son is fool enough to be in love with her? I'd give five hundredfrancs if I could get Ursula out of this town. "

 CHAPTER XVI

 THE TWO ADVERSARIES

Perhaps the foregoing conduct on the part of the post master will haveshown already that Ursula, poor and resigned, was destined to be athorn in the side of the rich Minoret. The bustle attending thesettlement of an estate, the sale of the property, the going andcoming necessitated by such unusual business, his discussions with hiswife about the most trifling details, the purchase of the doctor'shouse, where Zelie wished to live in bourgeois style to advance herson's interests, --all this hurly-burly, contrasting with his usuallytranquil life hindered the huge Minoret from thinking of his victim. But about the middle of May, a few days after his installation in thedoctor's house, as he was coming home from a walk, he heard the soundof a piano, saw La Bougival sitting at a window, like a dragonguarding a treasure, and suddenly became aware of an importunate voicewithin him. 

To explain why to a man of Minoret's nature the sight of Ursula, whohad no suspicion of the theft committed upon her, now becameintolerable; why the spectacle of so much fortitude under misfortuneimpelled him to a desire to drive the girl out of town; and how andwhy it was that this desire took the form of hatred and revenge, wouldrequire a whole treatise on moral philosophy. Perhaps he felt he wasnot the real possessor of thirty-six thousand francs a year so long asshe to whom they really belonged lived near him. Perhaps he fanciedsome mere chance might betray his theft if the person despoiled wasnot got rid of. Perhaps to a nature in some sort primitive, almostuncivilized, and whose owner up to that time had never done anythingillegal, the presence of Ursula awakened remorse. Possibly thisremorse goaded him the more because he had received his share of theproperty legitimately acquired. In his own mind he no doubt attributedthese stirrings of his conscience to the fact of Ursula's presence, imagining that if she were removed all his uncomfortable feelingswould disappear with her. But still, after all, perhaps crime has itsown doctrine of perfection. A beginning of evil demands its end; afirst stab must be followed by the blow that kills. Perhaps robbery isdoomed to lead to murder. Minoret had committed the crime without theslightest reflection, so rapidly had the events taken place;reflection came later. Now, if you have thoroughly possessed yourselfof this man's nature and bodily presence you will understand themighty effect produced on him by a thought. Remorse is more than athought; it comes from a feeling which can no more be hidden thanlove; like love, it has its own tyranny. But, just as Minoret hadcommitted the crime against Ursula without the slightest reflection, so he now blindly longed to drive her from Nemours when he felthimself disturbed by the sight of that wronged innocence. Being, in asense, imbecile, he never thought of the consequences; he went fromdanger to danger, driven by a selfish instinct, like a wild animalwhich does not foresee the huntsman's skill, and relies on its ownrapidity or strength. Before long the rich bourgeois, who still met inDionis's salon, noticed a great change in the manners and behavior ofthe man who had hitherto been so free of care. 

"I don't know what has come to Minoret, he is all _no how_, " said hiswife, from whom he was resolved to hide his daring deed. 

Everybody explained his condition as being, neither more nor less, ennui (in fact the thought now expressed on his face did resembleennui), caused, they said, by the sudden cessation of business and thechange from an active life to one of well-to-do leisure. 

While Minoret was thinking only of destroying Ursula's life inNemours, La Bougival never let a day go by without torturing herfoster child with some allusion to the fortune she ought to have had, or without comparing her miserable lot with the prospects the doctorhad promised, and of which he had often spoken to her, La Bougival. 

"It is not for myself I speak, " she said, "but is it likely thatmonsieur, good and kind as he was, would have died without leaving methe merest trifle?--"

"Am I not here?" replied Ursula, forbidding La Bougival to say anotherword on the subject. 

She could not endure to soil the dear and tender memories thatsurrounded that noble head--a sketch of which in black and white hungin her little salon--with thoughts of selfish interest. To her freshand beautiful imagination that sketch sufficed to make her _see_ hergodfather, on whom her thoughts continually dwelt, all the morebecause surrounded with the things he loved and used, --his largeduchess-sofa, the furniture from his study, his backgammon-table, andthe piano he had chosen for her. The two old friends who stillremained to her, the Abbe Chaperon and Monsieur Bongrand, the onlyvisitors whom she received, were, in the midst of these inanimateobjects representative of the past, like two living memories of herformer life to which she attached her present by the love hergodfather had blessed. 

After a while the sadness of her thoughts, softening gradually, gavetone to the general tenor of her life and united all its parts in anindefinable harmony, expressed by the exquisite neatness, the exactsymmetry of her room, the few flowers sent by Savinien, the daintynothings of a young girl's life, the tranquillity which her quiethabits diffused about her, giving peace and composure to the littlehome. After breakfast and after mass she continued her studies andpracticed; then she took her embroidery and sat at the window lookingon the street. At four o'clock Savinien, returning from a walk (whichhe took in all weathers), finding the window open, would sit upon theouter casing and talk with her for half an hour. In the evening theabbe and Monsieur Bongrand came to see her, but she never allowedSavinien to accompany them. Neither did she accept Madame dePortenduere's proposition, which Savinien had induced his mother tomake, that she should visit there. 

Ursula and La Bougival lived, moreover, with the strictest economy;they did not spend, counting everything, more than sixty francs amonth. The old nurse was indefatigable; she washed and ironed; cookedonly twice a week, --mistress and maid eating their food cold on otherdays; for Ursula was determined to save the seven hundred francs stilldue on the purchase of the house. This rigid conduct, together withher modesty and her resignation to a life of poverty after theenjoyment of luxury and the fond indulgence of all her wishes, deeplyimpressed certain persons. Ursula won the respect of others, and novoice was raised against her. Even the heirs, once satisfied, did herjustice. Savinien admired the strength of character of so young agirl. From time to time Madame de Portenduere, when they met inchurch, would address a few kind words to her, and twice she insistedon her coming to dinner and fetched her herself. If all this was nothappiness it was at least tranquillity. But a benefit which came toUrsula through the legal care and ability of Bongrand started thesmouldering persecution which up to this time had laid in Minoret'sbreast as a dumb desire. 

As soon as the legal settlement of the doctor's estate was finished, the justice of peace, urged by Ursula, took the cause of thePortendueres in hand and promised her to get them out of theirtrouble. In dealing with the old lady, whose opposition to Ursula'shappiness made him furious, he did not allow her to be ignorant of thefact that his devotion to her service was solely to give pleasure toMademoiselle Mirouet. He chose one of his former clerks to act for thePortendueres at Fontainebleau, and himself put in a motion for a stayof proceedings. He intended to profit by the interval which mustelapse between the stoppage of the present suit and some new step onthe part of Massin to renew the lease at six thousand francs, get apremium from the present tenants and the payment in full of the rentof the current year. 

At this time, when these matters had to be discussed, the formerwhist-parties were again organized in Madame de Portenduere's salon, between himself, the abbe, Savinien, and Ursula, whom the abbe and heescorted there and back every evening. In June, Bongrand succeeded inquashing the proceedings; whereupon the new lease was signed; heobtained a premium of thirty-two thousand francs from the farmer and arent of six thousand a year for eighteen years. The evening of the dayon which this was finally settled he went to see Zelie, whom he knewto be puzzled as to how to invest her money, and proposed to sell herthe farm at Bordieres for two hundred and twenty thousand francs. 

"I'd buy it at once, " said Minoret, "if I were sure the Portenduereswould go and live somewhere else. "

"Why?" said the justice of peace. 

"We want to get rid of the nobles in Nemours. "

"I did hear the old lady say that if she could settle her affairs sheshould go and live in Brittany, as she would not have means enoughleft to live her. She is thinking of selling her house. "

"Well, sell it to me, " said Minoret. 

"To you?" said Zelie. "You talk as if you were master of everything. What do you want with two houses in Nemours?"

"If I don't settle this matter of the farm with you to-night, " saidBongrand, "our lease will get known, Massin will put in a fresh claim, and I shall lose this chance of liquidation which I am anxious tomake. So if you don't take my offer I shall go at once to Melun, wheresome farmers I know are ready to buy the farm with their eyes shut. "

"Why did you come to us, then?" said Zelie. 

"Because you can pay me in cash, and my other clients would make mewait some time for the money. I don't want difficulties. "

"Get _her_ out of Nemours and I'll pay it, " exclaimed Minoret. 

"You understand that I cannot answer for Madame de Portenduere'sactions, " said Bongrand. "I can only repeat what I heard her say, butI feel certain they will not remain in Nemours. "

On this assurance, enforced by a nudge from Zelie, Minoret agreed tothe purchase, and furnished the funds to pay off the mortgage due tothe doctor's estate. The deed of sale was immediately drawn up byDionis. Towards the end of June Bongrand brought the balance of thepurchase money to Madame de Portenduere, advising her to invest it inthe Funds, where, joined to Savinien's ten thousand, it would giveher, at five per cent, an income of six thousand francs. Thus, so farfrom losing her resources, the old lady actually gained by thetransaction. But she did not leave Nemours. Minoret thought he hadbeen tricked, --as though Bongrand had had an idea that Ursula'spresence was intolerable to him; and he felt a keen resentment whichembittered his hatred to his victim. Then began a secret drama whichwas terrible in its effects, --the struggle of two determinations; onewhich impelled Minoret to drive his victim from Nemours, the otherwhich gave Ursula the strength to bear persecution, the cause of whichwas for a certain length of time undiscoverable. The situation was astrange and even unnatural one, and yet it was led up to by all thepreceding events, which served as a preface to what was now to occur. 

Madame Minoret, to whom her husband had given a handsome silverservice costing twenty thousand francs, gave a magnificent dinnerevery Sunday, the day on which her son, the deputy procureur, camefrom Fontainebleau, bringing with him certain of his friends. On theseoccasions Zelie sent to Paris for delicacies--obliging Dionis thenotary to emulate her display. Goupil, whom the Minorets endeavored toignore as a questionable person who might tarnish their splendor, wasnot invited until the end of July. The clerk, who was fully aware ofthis intended neglect, was forced to be respectful to Desire, who, since his entrance into office, had assumed a haughty and dignifiedair, even in his own family. 

"You must have forgotten Esther, " Goupil said to him, "as you are somuch in love with Mademoiselle Mirouet. "

"In the first place, Esther is dead, monsieur; and in the next I havenever even thought of Ursula, " said the new magistrate. 

"Why, what did you tell me, papa Minoret?" cried Goupil, insolently. 

Minoret, caught in a lie by a man whom he feared, would have lostcountenance if it had not been for a project in his head, which was, in fact, the reason why Goupil was invited to dinner, --Minoret havingremembered the proposition the clerk had once made to prevent themarriage between Savinien and Ursula. For all answer, he led Goupilhurriedly to the end of the garden. 

"You'll soon be twenty-eight years old, my good fellow, " said he, "andI don't see that you are on the road to fortune. I wish you well, forafter all you were once my son's companion. Listen to me. If you canpersuade that little Mirouet, who possesses in her own right fortythousand francs, to marry you, I will give you, as true as my name isMinoret, the means to buy a notary's practice at Orleans. "

"No, " said Goupil, "that's too far out of the way; but Montargis--"

"No, " said Minoret; "Sens. "

"Very good, --Sens, " replied the hideous clerk. "There's an archbishopat Sens, and I don't object to devotion; a little hypocrisy and thereyou are, on the way to fortune. Besides, the girl is pious, and she'llsucceed at Sens. "

"It is to be fully understood, " continued Minoret, "that I shall notpay the money till you marry my cousin, for whom I wish to provide, out of consideration for my deceased uncle. "

"Why not for me too?" said Goupil maliciously, instantly suspecting asecret motive in Minoret's conduct. "Isn't it through information yougot from me that you make twenty-four thousand a year from that land, without a single enclosure, around the Chateau du Rouvre? The fieldsand the mill the other side of the Loing make sixteen thousand more. Come, old fellow, do you mean to play fair with me?"

"Yes. "

"If I wanted to show my teeth I could coax Massin to buy the Rouvreestate, park, gardens, preserves, and timber--"

"You'd better think twice before you do that, " said Zelie, suddenlyintervening. 

"If I choose, " said Goupil, giving her a viperish look; "Massin wouldbuy the whole for two hundred thousand francs. "

"Leave us, wife, " said the colossus, taking Zelie by the arm, andshoving her away; "I understand him. We have been so very busy, " hecontinued, returning to Goupil, "that we have had no time to think ofyou; but I rely on your friendship to buy the Rouvre estate for me. "

"It is a very ancient marquisate, " said Goupil, maliciously; "whichwill soon be worth in your hands fifty thousand francs a year; thatmeans a capital of more than two millions as money is now. "

"My son could then marry the daughter of a marshal of France, or thedaughter of some old family whose influence would get him a fine placeunder the government in Paris, " said Minoret, opening his hugesnuff-box and offering a pinch to Goupil. 

"Very good; but will you play fair?" cried Goupil, shaking hisfingers. 

Minoret pressed the clerk's hands replying:--

"On my word of honor. "

 CHAPTER XVII

 THE MALIGNITY OF PROVINCIAL MINDS

Like all crafty persons, Goupil, fortunately for Minoret, believedthat the proposed marriage with Ursula was only a pretext on the partof the colossus and Zelie for making up with him, now that he wasopposing them with Massin. 

"It isn't he, " thought Goupil, "who has invented this scheme; I knowmy Zelie, --she taught him his part. Bah! I'll let Massin go. In threeyears time I'll be deputy from Sens. " Just then he saw Bongrand on hisway to the opposite house for his whist, and he rushed hastily afterhim. 

"You take a great interest in Mademoiselle Mirouet, my dear MonsieurBongrand, " he said. "I know you will not be indifferent to her future. Her relations are considering it, and there is the programme; sheought to marry a notary whose practice should be in the chief town ofan arrondisement. This notary, who would of course be elected deputyin three years, should settle on a dower of a hundred thousand francson her. "

"She can do better than that, " said Bongrand coldly. "Madame dePortenduere is greatly changed since her misfortunes; trouble iskilling her. Savinien will have six thousand francs a year, and Ursulahas a capital of forty thousand. I shall show them how to increase ita la Massin, but honestly, and in ten years they will have a littlefortune. 

"Savinien will do a foolish thing, " said Goupil; "he can marryMademoiselle du Rouvre whenever he likes, --an only daughter to whomthe uncle and aunt intend to leave a fine property. "

"Where love enters farewell prudence, as La Fontaine says-- By thebye, who is your notary?" added Bongrand from curiosity. 

"Suppose it were I?" answered Goupil. 

"You!" exclaimed Bongrand, without hiding his disgust. 

"Well, well!--Adieu, monsieur, " replied Goupil, with a parting glanceof gall and hatred and defiance. 

"Do you wish to be the wife of a notary who will settle a hundredthousand francs on you?" cried Bongrand entering Madame dePortenduere's little salon, where Ursula was seated beside the oldlady. 

Ursula and Savinien trembled and looked at each other, --she smiling, he not daring to show his uneasiness. 

"I am not mistress of myself, " said Ursula, holding out her hand toSavinien in such a way that the old lady did not perceive the gesture. 

"Well, I have refused the offer without consulting you. "

"Why did you do that?" said Madame de Portenduere. "I think theposition of a notary is a very good one. "

"I prefer my peaceful poverty, " said Ursula, "which is really wealthcompared with what my station in life might have given me. Besides, myold nurse spares me a great deal of care, and I shall not exchange thepresent, which I like, for an unknown fate. "

A few weeks later the post poured into two hearts the poison ofanonymous letters, --one addressed to Madame de Portenduere, the otherto Ursula. The following is the one to the old lady:--

 "You love your son, you wish to marry him in a manner conformable with the name he bears; and yet you encourage his fancy for an ambitious girl without money and the daughter of a regimental band-master, by inviting her to your house. You ought to marry him to Mademoiselle du Rouvre, on whom her two uncles, the Marquis de Ronquerolles and the Chevalier du Rouvre, who are worth money, would settle a handsome sum rather than leave it to that old fool the Marquis du Rouvre, who runs through everything. Madame de Serizy, aunt of Clementine du Rouvre, who has just lost her only son in the campaign in Algiers, will no doubt adopt her niece. A person who is your well-wisher assures you that Savinien will be accepted. "

The letter to Ursula was as follows:--

 Dear Ursula, --There is a young man in Nemours who idolizes you. He cannot see you working at your window without emotions which prove to him that his love will last through life. This young man is gifted with an iron will and a spirit of perseverance which nothing can discourage. Receive his addresses favorably, for his intentions are pure, and he humbly asks your hand with a sincere desire to make you happy. His fortune, already suitable, is nothing to that which he will make for you when you are once his wife. You shall be received at court as the wife of a minister and one of the first ladies in the land. 

 As he sees you every day (without your being able to see him) put a pot of La Bougival's pinks in your window and he will understand from that that he has your permission to present himself. 

Ursula burned the letter and said nothing about it to Savinien. Twodays later she received another letter in the following language:--

 "You do wrong, my dear Ursula, not to answer one who loves you better than life itself. You think you will marry Savinien--you are very much mistaken. That marriage will not take place. Madame de Portenduere went this morning to Rouvre to ask for the hand of Mademoiselle Clementine for her son. Savinien will yield in the end. What objection can he make? The uncles of the young lady are willing to guarantee their fortune to her; it amounts to over sixty thousand francs a year. "

This letter agonized Ursula's heart and afflicted her with thetortures of jealousy, a form of suffering hitherto unknown to her, butwhich to this fine organization, so sensitive to pain, threw a pallover the present and over the future, and even over the past. From themoment when she received this fatal paper she lay on the doctor'ssofa, her eyes fixed on space, lost in a dreadful dream. In an instantthe chill of death had come upon her warm young life. Alas, worse thanthat! it was like the awful awakening of the dead to the sense thatthere was no God, --the masterpiece of that strange genius called JeanPaul. Four times La Bougival called her to breakfast. When thefaithful creature tried to remonstrate, Ursula waved her hand andanswered in one harsh word, "Hush!" said despotically, in strangecontrast to her usual gentle manner. La Bougival, watching hermistress through the glass door, saw her alternately red with aconsuming fever, and blue as if a shudder of cold had succeeded thatunnatural heat. This condition grew worse and worse up to fouro'clock; then she rose to see if Savinien were coming, but he did notcome. Jealousy and distrust tear all reserves from love. Ursula, whotill then had never made one gesture by which her love could beguessed, now took her hat and shawl and rushed into the passage as ifto go and meet him. But an afterthought of modesty sent her back toher little salon, where she stayed and wept. When the abbe arrived inthe evening La Bougival met him at the door. 

"Ah, monsieur!" she cried; "I don't know what's the matter withmademoiselle; she is--"

"I know, " said the abbe sadly, stopping the words of the poor nurse. 

He then told Ursula (what she had not dared to verify) that Madame dePortenduere had gone to dine at Rouvre. 

"And Savinien too?" she asked. 

"Yes. "

Ursula was seized with a little nervous tremor which made the abbequiver as though a whole Leyden jar had been discharged at him; hefelt moreover a lasting commotion in his heart. 

"So we shall not go there to-night, " he said as gently as he could;"and, my child, it would be better if you did not go there again. Theold lady will receive you in a way to wound your pride. MonsieurBongrand and I, who had succeeded in bringing her to consider yourmarriage, have no idea from what quarter this new influence has cometo change her, as it were in a moment. "

"I expect the worst; nothing can surprise me now, " said Ursula in apained voice. "In such extremities it is a comfort to feel that wehave done nothing to displease God. "

"Submit, dear daughter, and do not seek to fathom the ways ofProvidence, " said the abbe. 

"I shall not unjustly distrust the character of Monsieur dePortenduere--"

"Why do you no longer call him Savinien?" asked the priest, whodetected a slight bitterness in Ursula's tone. 

"Of my dear Savinien, " cried the girl, bursting into tears. "Yes, mygood friend, " she said, sobbing, "a voice tells me he is as noble inheart as he is in race. He has not only told me that he loves mealone, but he has proved it in a hundred delicate ways, and byrestraining heroically his ardent feelings. Lately when he took thehand I held out to him, that evening when Monsieur Bongrand proposedto me a husband, it was the first time, I swear to you, that I hadever given it. He began with a jest when he blew me a kiss across thestreet, but since then our affection has never outwardly passed, asyou well know, the narrowest limits. But I will tell you, --you whoread my soul except in this one region where none but the angels see, --well, I will tell you, this love has been in me the secret spring ofmany seeming merits; it made me accept my poverty; it softened thebitterness of my irreparable loss, for my mourning is more perhaps inmy clothes now than in my heart-- Oh, was I wrong? can it be that lovewas stronger in me than my gratitude to my benefactor, and God haspunished me for it? But how could it be otherwise? I respected inmyself Savinien's future wife; yes, perhaps I was too proud, perhapsit is that pride which God has humbled. God alone, as you have oftentold me, should be the end and object of all our actions. "

The abbe was deeply touched as he watched the tears roll down herpallid face. The higher her sense of security had been, the lower shewas now to fall. 

"But, " she said, continuing, "if I return to my orphaned condition, Ishall know how to take up its feelings. After all, could I have tied amill-stone round the neck of him I love? What can he do here? Who am Ito bind him to me? Besides, do I not love him with a friendship sodivine that I can bear the loss of my own happiness and my hopes? Youknow I have often blamed myself for letting my hopes rest upon agrave, and for knowing they were waiting on that poor old lady'sdeath. If Savinien is rich and happy with another I have enough to payfor my entrance to a convent, where I shall go at once. There can nomore be two loves in a woman's heart than there can be two masters inheaven, and the life of a religious is attractive to me. "

"He could not let his mother go alone to Rouvre, " said the abbe, gently. 

"Do not let us talk of that, my dear good friend, " she answered. "Iwill write to-night and set him free. I am glad to have to close thewindows of this room, " she continued, telling her old friend of theanonymous letters, but declaring that she would not allow anyinquiries to be made as to who her unknown lover might be. 

"Why! it was an anonymous letter that first took Madame de Portenduereto Rouvre, " cried the abbe. "You are annoyed for some object by evilpersons. "

"How can that be? Neither Savinien nor I have injured any one; and Iam no longer an obstacle to the prosperity of others. "

"Well, well, my child, " said the abbe, quietly, "let us profit by thistempest, which has scattered our little circle, to put the library inorder. The books are still in heaps. Bongrand and I want to get themin order; we wish to make a search among them. Put your trust in God, and remember also that in our good Bongrand and in me you have twodevoted friends. "

"That is much, very much, " she said, going with him to the thresholdof the door, where she stretched out her neck like a bird looking overits nest, hoping against hope to see Savinien. 

Just then Minoret and Goupil, returning from a walk in the meadows, stopped as they passed, and the colossus spoke to Ursula. 

"Is anything the matter, cousin; for we are still cousins, are we not?You seem changed. "

Goupil looked so ardently at Ursula that she was frightened, and wentback into the house without replying. 

"She is cross, " said Minoret to the abbe. 

"Mademoiselle Mirouet is quite right not to talk to men on thethreshold of her door, " said the abbe; "she is too young--"

"Oh!" said Goupil. "I am told she doesn't lack lovers. "

The abbe bowed hurriedly and went as fast as he could to the Rue desBourgeois. 

"Well, " said Goupil to Minoret, "the thing is working. Did you noticehow pale she was. Within a fortnight she'll have left the town--you'llsee. "

"Better have you for a friend than an enemy, " cried Minoret, frightened at the atrocious grin which gave to Goupil's face thediabolical expression of the Mephistopheles of Joseph Brideau. 

"I should think so!" returned Goupil. "If she doesn't marry me I'llmake her die of grief. "

"Do it, my boy, and I'll GIVE you the money to buy a practice inParis. You can then marry a rich woman--"

"Poor Ursula! what makes you so bitter against her? what has she doneto you?" asked the clerk in surprise. 

"She annoys me, " said Minoret, gruffly. 

"Well, wait till Monday and you shall see how I'll rasp her, " saidGoupil, studying the expression of the late post master's face. 

The next day La Bougival carried the following letter to Savinien. 

"I don't know what the dear child has written to you, " she said, "butshe is almost dead this morning. "

Who, reading this letter to her lover, could fail to understand thesufferings the poor girl had gone through during the night. 

 My dear Savinien, --Your mother wishes you to marry Mademoiselle du Rouvre, and perhaps she is right. You are placed between a life that is almost poverty-stricken and a life of opulence; between the betrothed of your heart and a wife in conformity with the demands of the world; between obedience to your mother and the fulfilment of your own choice--for I still believe that you have chosen me. Savinien, if you have now to make your decision I wish you to do so in absolute freedom; I give you back the promise you made to yourself--not to me--in a moment which can never fade from my memory, for it was, like other days that have succeeded it, of angelic purity and sweetness. That memory will suffice me for my life. If you should persist in your pledge to me, a dark and terrible idea would henceforth trouble my happiness. In the midst of our privations--which we have hitherto accepted so gayly--you might reflect, too late, that life would have been to you a better thing had you now conformed to the laws of the world. If you were a man to express that thought, it would be to me the sentence of an agonizing death; if you did not express it, I should watch suspiciously every cloud upon your brow. 

 Dear Savinien, I have preferred you to all else on earth. I was right to do so, for my godfather, though jealous of you, used to say to me, "Love him, my child; you will certainly belong to each other one of these days. " When I went to Paris I loved you hopelessly, and the feeling contented me. I do not know if I can now return to it, but I shall try. What are we, after all, at this moment? Brother and sister. Let us stay so. Marry that happy girl who can have the joy of giving to your name the lustre it ought to have, and which your mother thinks I should diminish. You will not hear of me again. The world will approve of you; I shall never blame you--but I shall love you ever. Adieu, then!

"Wait, " cried the young man. Signing to La Bougival to sit down, hescratched off hastily the following reply:--

 My dear Ursula, --Your letter cuts me to the heart, inasmuch as you have needlessly felt such pain; and also because our hearts, for the first time, have failed to understand each other. If you are not my wife now, it is solely because I cannot marry without my mother's consent. Dear, eight thousand francs a year and a pretty cottage on the Loing, why, that's a fortune, is it not? You know we calculated that if we kept La Bougival we could lay by half our income every year. You allowed me that evening, in your uncle's garden, to consider you mine; you cannot now of yourself break those ties which are common to both of us. --Ursula, need I tell you that I yesterday informed Monsieur du Rouvre that even if I were free I could not receive a fortune from a young person whom I did not know? My mother refuses to see you again; I must therefore lose the happiness of our evenings; but surely you will not deprive me of the brief moments I can spend at your window? This evening, then-- Nothing can separate us. 

"Take this to her, my old woman; she must not be unhappy one momentlonger. "

That afternoon at four o'clock, returning from the walk which healways took expressly to pass before Ursula's house, Savinien foundhis mistress waiting for him, her face a little pallid from thesesudden changes and excitements. 

"It seems to me that until now I have never known what the pleasure ofseeing you is, " she said to him. 

"You once said to me, " replied Savinien, smiling, --"for I remember allyour words, --'Love lives by patience; we will wait!' Dear, you haveseparated love from faith. Ah! this shall be the end of our quarrels;we will never have another. You have claimed to love me better than Ilove you, but--did I ever doubt you?" he said, offering her a bouquetof wild-flowers arranged to express his thoughts. 

"You have never had any reason to doubt me, " she replied; "and, besides, you don't know all, " she added, in a troubled voice. 

Ursula had refused to receive letters by the post. But that afternoon, without being able even to guess at the nature of the trick, she hadfound, a few moments before Savinien's arrival, a letter tossed on hersofa which contained the words: "Tremble! a rejected lover can becomea tiger. "

Withstanding Savinien's entreaties, she refused to tell him, out ofprudence, the secret of her fears. The delight of seeing him again, after she had thought him lost to her, could alone have made herrecover from the mortal chill of terror. The expectation of indefiniteevil is torture to every one; suffering assumes the proportions of theunknown, and the unknown is the infinite of the soul. To Ursula thepain was exquisite. Something without her bounded at the slightestnoise; yet she was afraid of silence, and suspected even the walls ofcollusion. Even her sleep was restless. Goupil, who knew nothing ofher nature, delicate as that of a flower, had found, with the instinctof evil, the poison that could wither and destroy her. 

The next day passed without a shock. Ursula sat playing on her pianotill very late; and went to bed easier in mind and very sleepy. Aboutmidnight she was awakened by the music of a band composed of aclarinet, hautboy, flute, cornet a piston, trombone, bassoon, flageolet, and triangle. All the neighbours were at their windows. Thepoor girl, already frightened at seeing the people in the street, received a dreadful shock as she heard the coarse, rough voice of aman proclaiming in loud tones: "For the beautiful Ursula Mirouet, fromher lover. "

The next day, Sunday, the whole town had heard of it; and as Ursulaentered and left the church she saw the groups of people who stoodgossiping about her, and felt herself the object of their terriblecuriosity. The serenade set all tongues wagging, and conjectures wererife on all sides. Ursula reached home more dead than alive, determined not to leave the house again, --the abbe having advised herto say vespers in her own room. As she entered the house she saw lyingin the passage, which was floored with brick, a letter which hadevidently been slipped under the door. She picked it up and read it, under the idea that it would obtain an explanation. It was asfollows:--

"Resign yourself to becoming my wife, rich and idolized. I amresolved. If you are not mine living you shall be mine dead. Toyour refusal you may attribute not only your own misfortunes, butthose which will fall on others. 

"He who loves you, and whose wife you will be. "

Curiously enough, at the very moment that the gentle victim of thisplot was drooping like a cut flower, Mesdemoiselles Massin, Dionis, and Cremiere were envying her lot. 

"She is a lucky girl, " they were saying; "people talk of her, andcourt her, and quarrel about her. The serenade was charming; there wasa cornet-a-piston. "

"What's a piston?"

"A new musical instrument, as big as this, see!" replied AngeliqueCremiere to Pamela Massin. 

Early that morning Savinien had gone to Fontainebleau to endeavor tofind out who had engaged the musicians of the regiment then ingarrison. But as there were two men to each instrument it wasimpossible to find out which of them had gone to Nemours. The colonelforbade them to play for any private person in future without hispermission. Savinien had an interview with the procureur du roi, Ursula's legal guardian, and explained to him the injury these sceneswould do to a young girl naturally so delicate and sensitive, begginghim to take some action to discover the author of such wrong. 

Three nights later three violins, a flute, a guitar, and a hautboybegan another serenade. This time the musicians fled towardsMontargis, where there happened then to be a company of comic actors. A loud and ringing voice called out as they left: "To the daughter ofthe regimental bandsman Mirouet. " By this means all Nemours came toknow the profession of Ursula's father, a secret the old doctor hadsedulously kept. 

Savinien did not go to Montargis. He received in the course of the dayan anonymous letter containing a prophecy:--

 "You will never marry Ursula. If you wish her to live, give her up at once to a man who loves her more than you love her. He has made himself a musician and an artist to please her, and he would rather see her dead than let her be your wife. "

The doctor came to Ursula three times in the course of that day, forshe was really in danger of death from the horror of this mysteriouspersecution. Feeling that some infernal hand had plunged her into themire, the poor girl lay like a martyr; she said nothing, but liftedher eyes to heaven, and wept no more; she seemed awaiting other blows, and prayed fervently. 

"I am glad I cannot go down into the salon, " she said to MonsieurBongrand and the abbe, who left her as little as possible; "_He_ wouldcome, and I am now unworthy of the looks with which _he_ blessed me. Doyou think _he_ will suspect me?"

"If Savinien does not discover the author of these infamies he meansto get the assistance of the Paris police, " said Bongrand. 

"Whoever it is will know I am dying, " said Ursula; "and will cease totrouble me. "

The abbe, Bongrand, and Savinien were lost in conjectures andsuspicions. Together with Tiennette, La Bougival, and two persons onwhom the abbe could rely, they kept the closest watch and were ontheir guard night and day for a week; but no indiscretion could betrayGoupil, whose machinations were known to himself only. There were nomore serenades and no more letters, and little by little the watchrelaxed. Bongrand thought the author of the wrong was frightened;Savinien believed that the procureur du roi to whom he had sent theletters received by Ursula and himself and his mother, had taken stepsto put an end to the persecution. 

The armistice was not of long duration, however. When the doctor hadchecked the nervous fever from which poor Ursula was suffering, andjust as she was recovering her courage, a rope-ladder was found, earlyone morning in July, attached to her window. The postilion of themail-post declared that as he drove past the house in the middle ofthe night a small man was in the act of coming down the ladder, andthough he tried to pull up, his horses, being startled, carried himdown the hill so fast that he was out of Nemours before he stoppedthem. Some of the persons who frequented Dionis's salon attributedthese manoeuvres to the Marquis du Rouvre, then much hampered inmeans, for Massin held his notes to a large amount. It was said that aprompt marriage of his daughter to Savinien would save Chateau duRouvre from his creditors; and Madame de Portenduere, the gossipsadded, would approve of anything that would discredit and degradeUrsula and lead to this marriage of her son. 

So far from this being true, the old lady was well-nigh vanquished bythe sufferings of the innocent girl. The abbe was so painfullyovercome by this act of infernal wickedness that he fell ill himselfand was kept to the house for several days. Poor Ursula, to whom thislast insult had caused a relapse, received by post a letter from theabbe, which was taken in by La Bougival on recognizing thehandwriting. It was as follows:--

My child, --Leave Nemours, and thus evade the malice of yourenemies. Perhaps they are seeking to endanger Savinien's life. Iwill tell you more when I am able to go to you. 

Your devoted friend, Chaperon. 

When Savinien, who was almost maddened by these proceedings, carriedthis letter to the abbe, the poor priest read it and re-read it; soamazed and horror-stricken was he to see the perfection with which hisown handwriting and signature were imitated. The dangerous conditioninto which this last atrocity threw poor Ursula sent Savinien oncemore to the procureur du roi with the forged letter. 

"A murder is being committed by means that the law cannot touch, " hesaid, "upon an orphan whom the Code places in your care as legalguardian. What is to be done?"

"If you can find any means of repression, " said the official, "I willadopt them; but I know of none. That infamous wretch gives the bestadvice. Mademoiselle Mirouet must be sent to the sisters of theAdoration of the Sacred Heart. Meanwhile the commissary of police atFontainebleau shall at my request authorize you to carry arms in yourown defence. I have been myself to Rouvre, and I found Monsieur duRouvre justly indignant at the suspicions some of the Nemours peoplehave put upon him. Minoret, the father of my assistant, is in treatyfor the purchase of the estate. Mademoiselle is to marry a rich Polishcount; and Monsieur du Rouvre himself left the neighbourhood the day Isaw him, to avoid arrest for debt. "

Desire Minoret, when questioned by his chief, dared not tell histhought. He recognized Goupil. Goupil, he fully believed, was the onlyman capable of carrying a persecution to the very verge of the penalcode without infringing a hair's-breadth upon it. 

 CHAPTER XVIII

 A TWO-FOLD VENGEANCE

Impunity, secrecy, and success increased Goupil's audacity. He madeMassin, who was completely his dupe, sue the Marquis du Rouvre for hisnotes, so as to force him to sell the remainder of his property toMinoret. Thus prepared, he opened negotiations for a practice at Sens, and then resolved to strike a last blow to obtain Ursula. He meant toimitate certain young men in Paris who owed their wives and theirfortunes to abduction. He knew that the services he had rendered toMinoret, to Massin, and to Cremiere, and the protection of Dionis andthe mayor of Nemours would enable him to hush up the affair. Heresolved to throw off the mask, believing Ursula too feeble in thecondition to which he had reduced her to make any resistance. Butbefore risking this last throw in the game he thought it best to havean explanation with Minoret, and he chose his opportunity at Rouvre, where he went with his patron for the first time after the deeds weresigned. 

Minoret had that morning received a confidential letter from his sonasking him for information as to what was happening in connection withUrsula, information that he desired to obtain before going to Nemourswith the procureur du roi to place her under shelter from theseatrocities in the convent of the Adoration. Desire exhorted hisfather, in case this persecution should be the work of any of theirfriends, to give to whoever it might be warning and good advice; foreven if the law could not punish this crime it would certainlydiscover the truth and hold it over the delinquent's head. Minoret hadnow attained a great object. Owner of the chateau du Rouvre, one ofthe finest estates in the Gatinais, he had also a rent-roll of someforty odd thousand francs a year from the rich domains whichsurrounded the park. He could well afford to snap his fingers atGoupil. Besides, he intended to live on the estate, where the sight ofUrsula would no longer trouble him. 

"My boy, " he said to Goupil, as they walked along the terrace, "let myyoung cousin alone, now. "

"Pooh!" said the clerk, unable to imagine what capricious conductmeant. 

"Oh! I'm not ungrateful; you have enabled me to get this fine brickchateau with the stone copings (which couldn't be built now for twohundred thousand francs) and those farms and preserves and the parkand gardens and woods, all for two hundred and eighty thousand francs. No, I'm not ungrateful; I'll give you ten per cent, twenty thousandfrancs, for your services, and you can buy a sheriff's practice inNemours. I'll guarantee you a marriage with one of Cremiere'sdaughters, the eldest. "

"The one who talks piston!" cried Goupil. 

"She'll have thirty thousand francs, " replied Minoret. "Don't you see, my dear boy, that you are cut out for a sheriff, just as I was to be apost master? People should keep to their vocation. "

"Very well, then, " said Goupil, falling from the pinnacle of hishopes; "here's a stamped cheque; write me an order for twenty thousandfrancs; I want the money in hand at once. "

Minoret had eighteen thousand francs by him at that moment of whichhis wife knew nothing. He thought the best way to get rid of Goupilwas to sign the draft. The clerk, seeing the flush of seigniorialfever on the face of the imbecile and colossal Machiavelli, threw himan "au revoir, " by way of farewell, accompanied with a glance whichwould have made any one but an idiotic parvenu, lost in contemplationof the magnificent chateau built in the style in vogue under LouisXIII. , tremble in his shoes. 

"Are you not going to wait for me?" he cried, observing that Goupilwas going away on foot. 

"You'll find me on our path, never fear, papa Minoret, " repliedGoupil, athirst for vengeance and resolved to know the meaning of thezigzags of Minoret's strange conduct. 

Since the day when the last vile calumny had sullied her life Ursula, a prey to one of those inexplicable maladies the seat of which is inthe soul, seemed to be rapidly nearing death. She was deathly pale, speaking only at rare intervals and then in slow and feeble words;everything about her, her glance of gentle indifference, even theexpression of her forehead, all revealed the presence of someconsuming thought. She was thinking how the ideal wreath of chastity, with which throughout all ages the Peoples crowned their virgins, hadfallen from her brow. She heard in the void and in the silence thedishonoring words, the malicious comments, the laughter of the littletown. The trial was too heavy, her innocence was too delicate to allowher to survive the murderous blow. She complained no more; a sorrowfulsmile was on her lips; her eyes appealed to heaven, to the Sovereignof angels, against man's injustice. 

When Goupil reached Nemours, Ursula had just been carried down fromher chamber to the ground-floor in the arms of La Bougival and thedoctor. A great event was about to take place. When Madame dePortenduere became really aware that the girl was dying like anermine, though less injured in her honor than Clarissa Harlowe, sheresolved to go to her and comfort her. The sight of her son's anguish, who during the whole preceding night had seemed beside himself, madethe Breton soul of the old woman yield. Moreover, it seemed worthy ofher own dignity to revive the courage of a girl so pure, and she sawin her visit a counterpoise to all the evil done by the little town. Her opinion, surely more powerful than that of the crowd, ought tocarry with it, she thought, the influence of race. This step, whichthe abbe came to announce, made so great a change in Ursula that thedoctor, who was about to ask for a consultation of Parisian doctors, recovered hope. They placed her on her uncle's sofa, and such was thecharacter of her beauty that she lay there in her mourning garments, pale from suffering, she was more exquisitely lovely than in thehappiest hours of her life. When Savinien, with his mother on his arm, entered the room she colored vividly. 

"Do not rise, my child, " said the old lady imperatively; "weak and illas I am myself, I wished to come and tell you my feelings about whatis happening. I respect you as the purest, the most religious andexcellent girl in the Gatinais; and I think you worthy to make thehappiness of a gentleman. "

At first poor Ursula was unable to answer; she took the withered handsof Savinien's mother and kissed them. 

"Ah, madame, " she said in a faltering voice, "I should never have hadthe boldness to think of rising above my condition if I had not beenencouraged by promises; my only claim was that of an affection withoutbounds; but now they have found the means to separate me from him Ilove, --they have made me unworthy of him. Never!" she cried, with aring in her voice which painfully affected those about her, "neverwill I consent to give to any man a degraded hand, a stainedreputation. I loved too well, --yes, I can admit it in my presentcondition, --I love a creature almost as I love God, and God--"

"Hush, my child! do not calumniate God. Come, my daughter, " said theold lady, making an effort, "do not exaggerate the harm done by aninfamous joke in which no one believes. I give you my word, you willlive and you shall be happy. "

"We shall be happy!" cried Savinien, kneeling beside Ursula andkissing her hand; "my mother has called you her daughter. "

"Enough, enough, " said the doctor feeling his patient's pulse; "do notkill her with joy. "

At that moment Goupil, who found the street door ajar, opened that ofthe little salon, and showed his hideous face blazing with thoughts ofvengeance which had crowded into his mind as he hurried along. 

"Monsieur de Portenduere, " he said, in a voice like the hissing of aviper forced from its hole. 

"What do you want?" said Savinien, rising from his knees. 

"I have a word to say to you. "

Savinien left the room, and Goupil took him into the little courtyard. 

"Swear to me by Ursula's life, by your honor as a gentleman, to do byme as if I had never told you what I am about to tell. Do this, and Iwill reveal to you the cause of the persecutions directed againstMademoiselle Mirouet. "

"Can I put a stop to them?"

"Yes. "

"Can I avenge them?"

"On their author, yes--on his tool, no. "

"Why not?"

"Because--I am the tool. "

Savinien turned pale. 

"I have just seen Ursula--" said Goupil. 

"Ursula?" said the lover, looking fixedly at the clerk. 

"Mademoiselle Mirouet, " continued Goupil, made respectful bySavinien's tone; "and I would undo with my blood the wrong that hasbeen done; I repent of it. If you were to kill me, in a duel orotherwise, what good would my blood do you? can you drink it? At thismoment it would poison you. "

The cold reasoning of the man, together with a feeling of eagercuriosity, calmed Savinien's anger. He fixed his eyes on Goupil with alook which made that moral deformity writhe. 

"Who set you at this work?" said the young man. 

"Will you swear?"

"What, --to do you no harm?"

"I wish that you and Mademoiselle Mirouet should not forgive me. "

"She will forgive you, --I, never!"

"But at least you will forget?"

What terrible power the reason has when it is used to furtherself-interest. Here were two men, longing to tear one another inpieces, standing in that courtyard within two inches of each other, compelled to talk together and united by a single sentiment. 

"I will forgive you, but I shall not forget. "

"The agreement is off, " said Goupil coldly. Savinien lost patience. Heapplied a blow upon the man's face which echoed through the courtyardand nearly knocked him down, making Savinien himself stagger. 

"It is only what I deserve, " said Goupil, "for committing such afolly. I thought you more noble than you are. You have abused theadvantage I gave you. You are in my power now, " he added with a lookof hatred. 

"You are a murderer!" said Savinien. 

"No more than a dagger is a murderer. "

"I beg your pardon, " said Savinien. 

"Are you revenged enough?" said Goupil, with ferocious irony; "willyou stop here?"

"Reciprocal pardon and forgetfulness, " replied Savinien. 

"Give me your hand, " said the clerk, holding out his own. 

"It is yours, " said Savinien, swallowing the shame for Ursula's sake. "Now speak; who made you do this thing?"

Goupil looked into the scales as it were; on one side was Savinien'sblow, on the other his hatred against Minoret. For a second he wasundecided; then a voice said to him: "You will be notary!" and heanswered:--

"Pardon and forgetfulness? Yes, on both sides, monsieur--"

"Who is persecuting Ursula?" persisted Savinien. 

"Minoret. He would have liked to see her buried. Why? I can't tell youthat; but we might find out the reason. Don't mix me up in all this; Icould do nothing to help you if the others distrusted me. Instead ofannoying Ursula I will defend her; instead of serving Minoret I willtry to defeat his schemes. I live only to ruin him, to destroy him--I'll crush him under foot, I'll dance on his carcass, I'll make hisbones into dominoes! To-morrow, every wall in Nemours andFontainebleau and Rouvre shall blaze with the letters, 'Minoret is athief!' Yes, I'll burst him like a gun--There! we're allies now by theimprudence of that outbreak! If you choose I'll beg MademoiselleMirouet's pardon and tell her I curse the madness which impelled me toinjure her. It may do her good; the abbe and the justice are boththere; but Monsieur Bongrand must promise on his honor not to injuremy career. I have a career now. "

"Wait a minute;" said Savinien, bewildered by the revelation. 

"Ursula, my child, " he said, returning to the salon, "the author ofall your troubles is ashamed of his work; he repents and wishes to askyour pardon in presence of these gentlemen, on condition that all beforgotten. "

"What! Goupil?" cried the abbe, the justice, and the doctor, alltogether. 

"Keep his secret, " said Ursula, putting a finger on her lips. 

Goupil heard the words, saw the gesture, and was touched. 

"Mademoiselle, " he said in a troubled voice, "I wish that all Nemourscould hear me tell you that a fatal passion has bewildered my brainand led me to commit a crime punishable by the blame of honest men. What I say now I would be willing to say everywhere, deploring theharm done by such miserable tricks--which may have hastened yourhappiness, " he added, rather maliciously, "for I see that Madame dePortenduere is with you. "

"That is all very well, Goupil, " said the abbe, "Mademoiselle forgivesyou; but you must not forget that you came near being her murderer. "

"Monsieur Bongrand, " said Goupil, addressing the justice of peace. "Ishall negotiate to-night for Lecoeur's practice; I hope the reparationI have now made will not injure me with you, and that you will back mypetition to the bar and the ministry. "

Bongrand made a thoughtful inclination of his head; and Goupil leftthe house to negotiate on the best terms he could for the sheriff'spractice. The others remained with Ursula and did their best torestore the peace and tranquillity of her mind, already much relievedby Goupil's confession. 

"You see, my child, that God was not against you, " said the abbe. 

Minoret came home late from Rouvre. About nine o'clock he was sittingin the Chinese pagoda digesting his dinner beside his wife, with whomhe was making plans for Desire's future. Desire had become very sedatesince entering the magistracy; he worked hard, and it was not unlikelythat he would succeed the present procureur du roi at Fontainebleau, who, they said, was to be advanced to Melun. His parents felt thatthey must find him a wife, --some poor girl belonging to an old andnoble family; he would then make his way to the magistracy of Paris. Perhaps they could get him elected deputy from Fontainebleau, whereZelie was proposing to pass the winter after living at Rouvre for thesummer season. Minoret, inwardly congratulating himself for havingmanaged his affairs so well, no longer thought or cared about Ursula, at the very moment when the drama so heedlessly begun by him wasclosing down upon him in a terrible manner. 

"Monsieur de Portenduere is here and wishes to speak to you, " saidCabirolle. 

"Show him in, " answered Zelie. 

The twilight shadows prevented Madame Minoret from noticing the suddenpallor of her husband, who shuddered as he heard Savinien's boots onthe floor of the gallery, where the doctor's library used to be. Avague presentiment of danger ran through the robber's veins. Savinienentered and remaining standing, with his hat on his head, his cane inhis hand, and both hands crossed in front of him, motionless beforethe husband and wife. 

"I have come to ascertain, Monsieur and Madame Minoret, " he said, "your reasons for tormenting in an infamous manner a young lady who, as the whole town knows, is to be my wife. Why have you endeavored totarnish her honor? why have you wished to kill her? why did youdeliver her over to Goupil's insults?--Answer!"

"How absurd you are, Monsieur Savinien, " said Zelie, "to come and askus the meaning of a thing we think inexplicable. I bother myself aslittle about Ursula as I do about the year one. Since Uncle Minoretdied I've not thought of her more than I do of my first tooth. I'venever said one word about her to Goupil, who is, moreover, a queerrogue whom I wouldn't think of consulting about even a dog. Why don'tyou speak up, Minoret? Are you going to let monsieur box your ears inthat way and accuse you of wickedness that's beneath you? As if a manwith forty-eight thousand francs a year from landed property, and acastle fit for a prince, would stoop to such things! Get up, and don'tsit there like a wet rag!"

"I don't know what monsieur means, " said Minoret in his squeakingvoice, the trembling of which was all the more noticeable because thevoice was clear. "What object could I have in persecuting the girl? Imay have said to Goupil how annoyed I was at seeing her in Nemours. Myson Desire fell in love with her, and I didn't want him to marry her, that's all. "

"Goupil has confessed everything, Monsieur Minoret. "

There was a moment's silence, but it was terrible, when all threepersons examined one another. Zelie saw a nervous quiver on the heavyface of her colossus. 

"Though you are only insects, " said the young nobleman, "I will makeyou feel my vengeance. It is not from you, Monsieur Minoret, a mansixty-eight years of age, but from your son that I shall seeksatisfaction for the insults offered to Mademoiselle Mirouet. Thefirst time he sets his foot in Nemours we shall meet. He must fightme; he will do so, or be dishonored and never dare to show his faceagain. If he does not come to Nemours I shall go to Fontainebleau, forI will have satisfaction. It shall never be said that you were tamelyallowed to dishonor a defenceless young girl--"

"But the calumnies of a Goupil--are--not--" began Minoret. 

"Do you wish me to bring him face to face with you? Believe me, youhad better hush up this affair; it lies between you and Goupil and me. Leave it as it is; God will decide between us and when I meet yourson. "

"But this sha'n't go one!" cried Zelie. "Do you suppose I'll stand byand let Desire fight you, --a sailor whose business it is to handleswords and guns? If you've got any cause of complaint against Minoret, there's Minoret; take Minoret, fight Minoret! But do you think my boy, who, by your own account, knew nothing of all this, is going to bearthe brunt of it? No, my little gentleman! somebody's teeth will pinyour legs first! Come, Minoret, don't stand staring there like a bigcanary; you are in your own house, and you allow a man to keep his haton before your wife! I say he shall go. Now, monsieur, be off! a man'shouse is his castle. I don't know what you mean with your nonsense, but show me your heels, and if you dare touch Desire you'll have toanswer to _me_, --you and your minx Ursula. "

She rang the bell violently and called to the servants. 

"Remember what I have said to you, " repeated Savinien to Minoret, paying no attention to Zelie's tirade. Suspending the sword ofDamocles over their heads, he left the room. 

"Now, then, Minoret, " said Zelie, "you will explain to me what thisall means. A young man doesn't rush into a house and make an uproarlike that and demand the blood of a family for nothing. "

"It's some mischief of that vile Goupil, " said the colossus. "Ipromised to help him buy a practice if he would get me the Rouvreproperty cheap. I gave him ten per cent on the cost, twenty thousandfrancs in a note, and I suppose he isn't satisfied. "

"Yes, but why did he get up those serenades and the scandals againstUrsula?"

"He wanted to marry her. "

"A girl without a penny! the sly thing! Now Minoret, you are tellingme lies, and you are too much of a fool, my son, to make me believethem. There is something under all this, and you are going to tell mewhat it is. "

"There's nothing. "

"Nothing? I tell you you lie, and I shall find it out. "

"Do let me alone!"

"I'll turn the faucet of that fountain of venom, Goupil--whom you'reafraid of--and we'll see who gets the best of it then. "

"Just as you choose. "

"I know very well it will be as I choose! and what I choose first andforemost is that no harm shall come to Desire. If anything happens tohim, mark you, I'll do something that may send me to the scaffold--andyou, you haven't any feeling about him--"

A quarrel thus begun between Minoret and his wife was sure not toend without a long and angry strife. So at the moment of hisself-satisfaction the foolish robber found his inward struggle againsthimself and against Ursula revived by his own fault, and complicatedwith a new and terrible adversary. The next day, when he left thehouse early to find Goupil and try to appease him with additionalmoney, the walls were already placarded with the words: "Minoret is athief. " All those whom he met commiserated him and asked him who wasthe author of the anonymous placard. Fortunately for him, everybodymade allowance for his equivocal replies by reflecting on his utterstupidity; fools get more advantage from their weakness than able menfrom their strength. The world looks on at a great man battlingagainst fate, and does not help him, but it supplies the capital of agrocer who may fail and lose all. Why? Because men like to feelsuperior in protecting an incapable, and are displeased at not feelingthemselves the equal of a man of genius. A clever man would have beenlost in public estimation had he stammered, as Minoret did, evasiveand foolish answers with a frightened air. Zelie sent her servants toefface the vindictive words wherever they were found; but the effectof them on Minoret's conscience still remained. 

The result of his interview with his assailant was soon apparent. Though Goupil had concluded his bargain with the sheriff the nightbefore, he now impudently refused to fulfil it. 

"My dear Lecoeur, " he said, "I am unexpectedly enabled to buy upMonsieur Dionis's practice; I am therefore in a position to help youto sell to others. Tear up the agreement; it's only the loss of twostamps, --here are seventy centimes. "

Lecoeur was too much afraid of Goupil to complain. All Nemours knewbefore night that Minoret had given Dionis security to enable Goupilto buy his practice. The latter wrote to Savinien denying his chargesagainst Minoret, and telling the young nobleman that in his newposition he was forbidden by the rules of the supreme court, and alsoby his respect for law, to fight a duel. But he warned Savinien totreat him well in future; assuring him he was a capital boxer, andwould break his leg at the first offence. 

The walls of Nemours were cleared of the inscription; but the quarrelbetween Minoret and his wife went on; and Savinien maintained athreatening silence. Ten days after these events the marriage ofMademoiselle Massin, the elder, to the future notary was bruited aboutthe town. Mademoiselle Massin had a dowry of eighty thousand francsand her own peculiar ugliness; Goupil had his deformities and hispractice; the union therefore seemed suitable and probable. Oneevening, towards midnight, two unknown men seized Goupil in the streetas he was leaving Massin's house, gave him a sound beating, anddisappeared. The notary kept the matter a profound secret, and evencontradicted an old woman who saw the scene from her window andthought that she recognized him. 

These great little events were carefully studied by Bongrand, whobecame convinced that Goupil held some mysterious power over Minoret, and he determined to find out its cause. 

 CHAPTER XIX

 APPARITIONS

Though the public opinion of the little town recognized Ursula'sperfect innocence, she recovered slowly. While in a state of bodilyexhaustion, which left her mind and spirit free, she became the mediumof phenomena the effects of which were astounding, and of a nature tochallenge science, if science had been brought into contact with them. 

Ten days after Madame de Portenduere's visit Ursula had a dream, withall the characteristics of a supernatural vision, as much in its moralaspects as in the, so to speak, physical circumstances. Her godfatherappeared to her and made a sign that she should come with him. Shedressed herself and followed him through the darkness to their formerhouse in the Rue des Bourgeois, where she found everything preciselyas it was on the day of her godfather's death. The old man wore theclothes that were on him the evening before his death. His face waspale, his movements caused no sound; nevertheless, Ursula heard hisvoice distinctly, though it was feeble and as if repeated by a distantecho. The doctor conducted his child as far as the Chinese pagoda, where he made her lift the marble top of the little Boule cabinet justas she had raised it on the day of his death; but instead of findingnothing there she saw the letter her godfather had told her to fetch. She opened it and read both the letter addressed to herself and thewill in favor of Savinien. The writing, as she afterwards told theabbe, shone as if traced by sunbeams--"it burned my eyes, " she said. When she looked at her uncle to thank him she saw the old benevolentsmile upon his discolored lips. Then, in a feeble voice, but stillclearly, he told her to look at Minoret, who was listening in thecorridor to what he said to her; and next, slipping the lock of thelibrary door with his knife, and taking the papers from the study. With his right hand the old man seized his goddaughter and obliged herto walk at the pace of death and follow Minoret to his own house. Ursula crossed the town, entered the post house and went into Zelie'sold room, where the spectre showed her Minoret unfolding the letters, reading them and burning them. 

"He could not, " said Ursula, telling her dream to the abbe, "light thefirst two matches, but the third took fire; he burned the papers andburied their remains in the ashes. Then my godfather brought me backto our house, and I saw Minoret-Levrault slipping into the library, where he took from the third volume of Pandects three certificates oftwelve thousand francs each; also, from the preceding volume, a numberof banknotes. 'He is, ' said my godfather, 'the cause of all thetrouble which has brought you to the verge of the tomb; but God willsthat you shall yet be happy. You will not die now; you will marrySavinien. If you love me, and if you love Savinien, I charge you todemand your fortune from my nephew. Swear it. '"

Resplendent as though transfigured, the spectre had so powerful aninfluence on Ursula's soul that she promised all her uncle asked, hoping to put an end to the nightmare. She woke suddenly and foundherself standing in the middle of her bedroom, facing her godfather'sportrait, which had been placed there during her illness. She wentback to bed and fell asleep after much agitation, and on waking againshe remembered all the particulars of this singular vision; but shedared not speak of it. Her judgment and her delicacy both shrank fromrevealing a dream the end and object of which was her pecuniarybenefit. She attributed the vision, not unnaturally, to remarks madeby La Bougival the preceding evening, when the old woman talked of thedoctor's intended liberality and of her own convictions on thatsubject. But the dream returned, with aggravated circumstances whichmade it fearful to the poor girl. On the second occasion the icy handof her godfather was laid upon her shoulder, causing her the mosthorrible distress, an indefinable sensation. "You must obey the dead, "he said, in a sepulchral voice. "Tears, " said Ursula, relating herdreams, "fell from his white, wide-open eyes. "

The third time the vision came the dead man took her by the braids ofher long hair and showed her the post master talking with Goupil andpromising money if he would remove Ursula to Sens. Ursula then decidedto relate the three dreams to the Abbe Chaperon. 

"Monsieur l'abbe, " she said, "do you believe that the dead reappear?"

"My child, sacred history, profane history, and modern history, havemuch testimony to that effect; but the Church has never made it anarticle of faith; and as for science, in France science laughs at theidea. "

"What do _you_ believe?"

"That the power of God is infinite. "

"Did my godfather ever speak to you of such matters?"

"Yes, often. He had entirely changed his views of them. Hisconversion, as he told me at least twenty times, dated from the daywhen a woman in Paris heard you praying for him in Nemours, and sawthe red dot you made against Saint-Savinien's day in your almanac. "

Ursula uttered a piercing cry, which alarmed the priest; sheremembered the scene when, on returning to Nemours, her godfather readher soul, and took away the almanac. 

"If that is so, " she said, "then my visions are possibly true. Mygodfather has appeared to me, as Jesus appeared to his disciples. Hewas wrapped in yellow light; he spoke to me. I beg you to say a massfor the repose of his soul and to implore the help of God that thesevisions may cease, for they are destroying me. "

She then related the three dreams with all their details, insisting onthe truth of what she said, on her own freedom of action, on thesomnambulism of her inner being, which, she said, detached itself fromher body at the bidding of the spectre and followed him with perfectease. The thing that most surprised the abbe, to whom Ursula'sveracity was known, was the exact description which she gave of thebedroom formerly occupied by Zelie at the post house, which Ursula hadnever entered and about which no one had ever spoken to her. 

"By what means can these singular apparitions take place?" askedUrsula. "What did my godfather think?"

"Your godfather, my dear child, argued my hypothesis. He recognizedthe possibility of a spiritual world, a world of ideas. If ideas areof man's creation, if they subsist in a life of their own, they musthave forms which our external senses cannot grasp, but which areperceptible to our inward senses when brought under certainconditions. Thus your godfather's ideas might so enfold you that youwould clothe them with his bodily presence. Then, if Minoret reallycommitted those actions, they too resolve themselves into ideas; forall action is the result of many ideas. Now, if ideas live and move ina spiritual world, your spirit must be able to perceive them if itpenetrates that world. These phenomena are not more extraordinary thanthose of memory; and those of memory are quite as amazing andinexplicable as those of the perfume of plants--which are perhaps theideas of the plants. "

"How you enlarge and magnify the world!" exclaimed Ursula. "But tohear the dead speak, to see them walk, act--do you think it possible?"

"In Sweden, " replied the abbe, "Swedenborg has proved by evidence thathe communicated with the dead. But come with me into the library andyou shall read in the life of the famous Duc de Montmorency, beheadedat Toulouse, and who certainly was not a man to invent foolish tales, an adventure very like yours, which happened a hundred years earlierat Cardan. "

Ursula and the abbe went upstairs, and the good man hunted up a littleedition in 12mo, printed in Paris in 1666, of the "History of Henri deMontmorency, " written by a priest of that period who had known theprince. 

"Read it, " said the abbe, giving Ursula the volume, which he hadopened at the 175th page. "Your godfather often re-read that passage, --and see! here's a little of his snuff in it. "

"And he not here!" said Ursula, taking the volume to read the passage. 

 "The siege of Privat was remarkable for the loss of a great number of officers. Two brigadier-generals died there--namely, the Marquis d'Uxelles, of a wound received at the outposts, and the Marquis de Portes, from a musket-shot through the head. The day the latter was killed he was to have been made a marshal of France. About the moment when the marquis expired the Duc de Montmorency, who was sleeping in his tent, was awakened by a voice like that of the marquis bidding him farewell. The affection he felt for a friend so near made him attribute the illusion of this dream to the force of his own imagination; and owing to the fatigues of the night, which he had spent, according to his custom, in the trenches, he fell asleep once more without any sense of dread. But the same voice disturbed him again, and the phantom obliged him to wake up and listen to the same words it had said as it first passed. The duke then recollected that he had heard the philosopher Pitrat discourse on the possibility of the separation of the soul from the body, and that he and the marquis had agreed that the first who died should bid adieu to the other. On which, not being able to restrain his fears as to the truth of this warning, he sent a servant to the marquis's quarters, which were distant from him. But before the man could get back, the king sent to inform the duke, by persons fitted to console him, of the great loss he had sustained. 

 "I leave learned men to discuss the cause of this event, which I have frequently heard the Duc de Montmorency relate: I think that the truth and singularity of the fact itself ought to be recorded and preserved. "

"If all this is so, " said Ursula, "what ought I do do?"

"My child, " said the abbe, "it concerns matters so important, andwhich may prove so profitable to you, that you ought to keepabsolutely silent about it. Now that you have confided to me thesecret of these apparitions perhaps they may not return. Besides, youare now strong enough to come to church; well, then, come to-morrowand thank God and pray to him for the repose of your godfather's soul. Feel quite sure that you have entrusted your secret to prudent hands. "

"If you knew how afraid I am to go to sleep, --what glances mygodfather gives me! The last time he caught hold of my dress--I awokewith my face all covered with tears. "

"Be at peace; he will not come again, " said the priest. 

Without losing a moment the Abbe Chaperon went straight to Minoret andasked for a few moments interview in the Chinese pagoda, requestingthat they might be entirely alone. 

"Can any one hear us?" he asked. 

"No one, " replied Minoret. 

"Monsieur, my character must be known to you, " said the abbe, fastening a gentle but attentive look on Minoret's face. "I have tospeak to you of serious and extraordinary matters, which concern you, and about which you may be sure that I shall keep the profoundestsecrecy; but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than give youthis information. While your uncle lived, there stood there, " said thepriest, pointing to a certain spot in the room, "a small buffet madeby Boule, with a marble top" (Minoret turned livid), "and beneath themarble your uncle placed a letter for Ursula--" The abbe then went onto relate, without omitting the smallest circumstance, Minoret'sconduct to Minoret himself. When the last post master heard the detailof the two matches refusing to light he felt his hair begin to writheon his skull. 

"Who invented such nonsense?" he said, in a strangled voice, when thetale ended. 

"The dead man himself. "

This answer made Minoret tremble, for he himself had dreamed of thedoctor. 

"God is very good, Monsieur l'abbe, to do miracles for me, " he said, danger inspiring him to make the sole jest of his life. 

"All that God does is natural, " replied the priest. 

"Your phantoms don't frighten me, " said the colossus, recovering hiscoolness. 

"I did not come to frighten you, for I shall never speak of this toany one in the world, " said the abbe. "You alone know the truth. Thematter is between you and God. "

"Come now, Monsieur l'abbe, do you really think me capable of such ahorrible abuse of confidence?"

"I believe only in crimes which are confessed to me, and of which thesinner repents, " said the priest, in an apostolic tone. 

"Crime?" cried Minoret. 

"A crime frightful in its consequences. "

"What consequences?"

"In the fact that it escapes human justice. The crimes which are notexpiated here below will be punished in another world. God himselfavenges innocence. "

"Do you think God concerns himself with such trifles?"

"If he did not see the worlds in all their details at a glance, as youtake a landscape into your eye, he would not be God. "

"Monsieur l'abbe, will you give me your word of honor that you havehad these facts from my uncle?"

"Your uncle has appeared three times to Ursula and has told them andrepeated them to her. Exhausted by such visions she revealed them tome privately; she considers them so devoid of reason that she willnever speak of them. You may make yourself easy on that point. "

"I am easy on all points, Monsieur Chaperon. "

"I hope you are, " said the old priest. "Even if I considered thesewarnings absurd, I should still feel bound to inform you of them, considering the singular nature of the details. You are an honest man, and you have obtained your handsome fortune in too legal a way to wishto add to it by theft. Besides, you are an almost primitive man, andyou would be tortured by remorse. We have within us, be we savage orcivilized, the sense of what is right, and this will not permit us toenjoy in peace ill-gotten gains acquired against the laws of thesociety in which we live, --for well-constituted societies are modeledon the system God has ordained for the universe. In this respectsocieties have a divine origin. Man does not originate ideas, heinvents no form; he answers to the eternal relations that surround himon all sides. Therefore, see what happens! Criminals going to thescaffold, and having it in their power to carry their secret withthem, are compelled by the force of some mysterious power to makeconfessions before their heads are taken off. Therefore, MonsieurMinoret, if your mind is at ease, I go my way satisfied. "

Minoret was so stupefied that he allowed the abbe to find his own wayout. When he thought himself alone he flew into the fury of a cholericman; the strangest blasphemies escaped his lips, in which Ursula'sname was mingled with odious language. 

"Why, what has she done to you?" cried Zelie, who had slipped in ontiptoe after seeing the abbe out of the house. 

For the first and only time in his life, Minoret, drunk with anger anddriven to extremities by his wife's reiterated questions, turned uponher and beat her so violently that he was obliged, when she fellhalf-dead on the floor, to take her in his arms and put her to bedhimself, ashamed of his act. He was taken ill and the doctor bled himtwice; when he appeared again in the streets everybody noticed a greatchange in him. He walked alone, and often roamed the town as thoughuneasy. When any one addressed him he seemed preoccupied in his mind, he who had never before had two ideas in his head. At last, one evening, he went up to Monsieur Bongrand in the Grand'Rue, the latter being on hisway to take Ursula to Madame de Portenduere's, where the whist partieshad begun again. 

"Monsieur Bongrand, I have something important to say to my cousin, "he said, taking the justice by the arm, "and I am very glad you shouldbe present, for you can advise her. "

They found Ursula studying; she rose, with a cold and dignified air, as soon as she saw Minoret. 

"My child, Monsieur Minoret wants to speak to you on a matter ofbusiness, " said Bongrand. "By the bye, don't forget to give me yourcertificates; I shall go to Paris in the morning and will draw yourdividend and La Bougival's. "

"Cousin, " said Minoret, "our uncle accustomed you to more luxury thanyou have now. "

"We can be very happy with very little money, " she replied. 

"I thought money might help your happiness, " continued Minoret, "and Ihave come to offer you some, out of respect for the memory of myuncle. "

"You had a natural way of showing respect for him, " said Ursula, sternly; "you could have left his house as it was, and allowed me tobuy it; instead of that you put it at a high price, hoping to findsome hidden treasure in it. "

"But, " said Minoret, evidently troubled, "if you had twelve thousandfrancs a year you would be in a position to marry well. "

"I have not got them. "

"But suppose I give them to you, on condition of your buying an estatein Brittany near Madame de Portenduere, --you could then marry herson. "

"Monsieur Minoret, " said Ursula, "I have no claim to that money, and Icannot accept it from you. We are scarcely relations, still less arewe friends. I have suffered too much from calumny to give a handle forevil-speaking. What have I done to deserve that money? What reasonhave you to make me such a present? These questions, which I have aright to ask, persons will answer as they see fit; some would consideryour gift the reparation of a wrong, and, as such, I choose not toaccept it. Your uncle did not bring me up to ignoble feelings. I canaccept nothing except from friends, and I have no friendship for you. "

"Then you refuse?" cried the colossus, into whose head the idea hadnever entered that a fortune could be rejected. 

"I refuse, " said Ursula. 

"But what grounds have you for offering Mademoiselle Ursula such afortune?" asked Bongrand, looking fixedly at Minoret. "You have anidea--have you an idea?--"

"Well, yes, the idea of getting her out of Nemours, so that my sonwill leave me in peace; he is in love with her and wants to marryher. "

"Well, we'll see about it, " said Bongrand, settling his spectacles. "Give us time to think it over. "

He walked home with Minoret, applauding the solicitude shown by thefather for his son's interests, and slightly blaming Ursula for herhasty decision. As soon as Minoret was within his own gate, Bongrandwent to the post house, borrowed a horse and cabriolet, and startedfor Fontainebleau, where he went to see the deputy procureur, and wastold that he was spending the evening at the house of the sub-prefect. Bongrand, delighted, followed him there. Desire was playing whist withthe wife of the procureur du roi, the wife of the sub-prefect, and thecolonel of the regiment in garrison. 

"I come to bring you some good news, " said Bongrand to Desire; "youlove your cousin Ursula, and the marriage can be arranged. "

"I love Ursula Mirouet!" cried Desire, laughing. "Where did you getthat idea? I do remember seeing her sometimes at the late DoctorMinoret's; she certainly is a beauty; but she is dreadfully pious. Icertainly took notice of her charms, but I must say I never troubledmy head seriously for that rather insipid little blonde, " he added, smiling at the sub-prefect's wife (who was a piquante brunette--to usea term of the last century). "You are dreaming, my dear MonsieurBongrand; I thought every one knew that my father was a lord of amanor, with a rent roll of forty-five thousand francs a year fromlands around his chateau at Rouvre, --good reasons why I should notlove the goddaughter of my late great-uncle. If I were to marry a girlwithout a penny these ladies would consider me a fool. "

"Have you never tormented your father to let you marry Ursula?"

"Never. "

"You hear that, monsieur?" said the justice to the procureur du roi, who had been listening to the conversation, leading him aside into therecess of a window, where they remained in conversation for a quarterof an hour. 

An hour later Bongrand was back in Nemours, at Ursula's house, whencehe sent La Bougival to Minoret to beg his attendance. The colossuscame at once. 

"Mademoiselle--" began Bongrand, addressing Minoret as he entered theroom. 

"Accepts?" cried Minoret, interrupting him. 

"No, not yet, " replied Bongrand, fingering his glasses. "I hadscruples as to your son's feelings; for Ursula has been much triedlately about a supposed lover. We know the importance of tranquillity. Can you swear to me that your son truly loves her and that you have noother intention than to preserve our dear Ursula from any furtherGoupilisms?"

"Oh, I'll swear to that, " cried Minoret. 

"Stop, papa Minoret, " said the justice, taking one hand from thepocket of his trousers to slap Minoret on the shoulder (the colossustrembled); "Don't swear falsely. "

"Swear falsely?"

"Yes, either you or your son, who has just sworn at Fontainebleau, inpresence of four persons and the procureur du roi, that he has nevereven thought of his cousin Ursula. You have other reasons for offeringthis fortune. I saw you were inventing that tale, and went myself toFontainebleau to question your son. "

Minoret was dumbfounded at his own folly. 

"But where's the harm, Monsieur Bongrand, in proposing to a youngrelative to help on a marriage which seems to be for her happiness, and to invent pretexts to conquer her reluctance to accept the money. "

Minoret, whose danger suggested to him an excuse which was almostadmissible, wiped his forehead, wet with perspiration. 

"You know the cause of my refusal, " said Ursula; "and I request younever to come here again. Though Monsieur de Portenduere has not toldme his reason, I know that he feels such contempt for you, suchdislike even, that I cannot receive you into my house. My happiness ismy only fortune, --I do not blush to say so; I shall not risk it. Monsieur de Portenduere is only waiting for my majority to marry me. "

"Then the old saw that 'Money does all' is a lie, " said Minoret, looking at the justice of peace, whose observing eyes annoyed him somuch. 

He rose and left the house, but, once outside, he found the air asoppressive as in the little salon. 

"There must be an end put to this, " he said to himself as here-entered his own home. 

When Ursula came down, bring her certificates and those of LaBougival, she found Monsieur Bongrand walking up and down the salonwith great strides. 

"Have you no idea what the conduct of that huge idiot means?" he said. 

"None that I can tell, " she replied. 

Bongrand looked at her with inquiring surprise. 

"Then we have the same idea, " he said. "Here, keep the number of yourcertificates, in case I lose them; you should always take thatprecaution. "

Bongrand himself wrote the number of the two certificates, hers andthat of La Bougival, and gave them to her. 

"Adieu, my child, I shall be gone two days, but you will see me on thethird. "

That night the apparition appeared to Ursula in a singular manner. Shethought her bed was in the cemetery of Nemours, and that her uncle'sgrave was at the foot of it. The white stone, on which she read theinscription, opened, like the cover of an oblong album. She uttered apiercing cry, but the doctor's spectre slowly rose. First she saw hisyellow head, with its fringe of white hair, which shone as ifsurmounted by a halo. Beneath the bald forehead the eyes were like twogleams of light; the dead man rose as if impelled by some superiorforce or will. Ursula's body trembled; her flesh was like a burninggarment, and there was (as she subsequently said) another self movingwithin her bodily presence. "Mercy!" she cried, "mercy, godfather!""It is too late, " he said, in the voice of death, --to use the poorgirl's own expression when she related this new dream to the abbe. "Hehas been warned; he has paid no heed to the warning. The days of hisson are numbered. If he does not confess all and restore what he hastaken within a certain time he must lose his son, who will die aviolent and horrible death. Let him know this. " The spectre pointed toa line of figures which gleamed upon the side of the tomb as ifwritten with fire, and said, "There is his doom. " When her uncle laydown again in his grave Ursula heard the sound of the stone fallingback into its place, and immediately after, in the distance, a strangesound of horses and the cries of men. 

The next day Ursula was prostrate. She could not rise, so terribly hadthe dream overcome her. She begged her nurse to find the Abbe Chaperonand bring him to her. The good priest came as soon as he had saidmass, but he was not surprised at Ursula's revelation. He believed therobbery had been committed, and no longer tried to explain to himselfthe abnormal condition of his "little dreamer. " He left Ursula at onceand went directly to Minoret's. 

"Monsieur l'abbe, " said Zelie, "my husband's temper is so soured Idon't know what he mightn't do. Until now he's been a child; but forthe last two months he's not the same man. To get angry enough tostrike me--me, so gentle! There must be something dreadful the matterto change him like that. You'll find him among the rocks; he spendsall his time there, --doing what, I'd like to know?"

In spite of the heat (it was then September, 1836), the abbe crossedthe canal and took a path which led to the base of one of the rocks, where he saw Minoret. 

"You are greatly troubled, Monsieur Minoret, " said the priest going upto him. "You belong to me because you suffer. Unhappily, I come toincrease your pain. Ursula had a terrible dream last night. Your unclelifted the stone from his grave and came forth to prophecy a greatdisaster in your family. I certainly am not here to frighten you; butyou ought to know what he said--"

"I can't be easy anywhere, Monsieur Chaperon, not even among theserocks, and I'm sure I don't want to know anything that is going on inanother world. "

"Then I will leave you, monsieur; I did not take this hot walk forpleasure, " said the abbe, mopping his forehead. 

"Well, what do you want to say?" demanded Minoret. 

"You are threatened with the loss of your son. If the dead man toldthings that you alone know, one must needs tremble when he tellsthings that no one can know till they happen. Make restitution, I say, make restitution. Don't damn your soul for a little money. "

"Restitution of what?"

"The fortune the doctor intended for Ursula. You took those threecertificates--I know it now. You began by persecuting that poor girl, and you end by offering her a fortune; you have stumbled into lies, you have tangled yourself up in this net, and you are taking falsesteps every day. You are very clumsy and unskilful; your accompliceGoupil has served you ill; he simply laughs at you. Make haste andclear your mind, for you are watched by intelligent and penetratingeyes, --those of Ursula's friends. Make restitution! and if you do notsave your son (who may not really be threatened), you will save yoursoul, and you will save your honor. Do you believe that in a societylike ours, in a little town like this, where everybody's eyes areeverywhere, and all things are guessed and all things are known, youcan long hide a stolen fortune? Come, my son, an innocent man wouldn'thave let me talk so long. "

"Go to the devil!" cried Minoret. "I don't know what you _all_ mean bypersecuting me. I prefer these stones--they leave me in peace. "

"Farewell, then; I have warned you. Neither the poor girl nor I havesaid a single word about this to any living person. But take care--there is a man who has his eye upon you. May God have pity upon you!"

The abbe departed; presently he turned back to look at Minoret. Theman was holding his head in his hands as if it troubled him; he was, in fact, partly crazy. In the first place, he had kept the threecertificates because he did not know what to do with them. He darednot draw the money himself for fear it should be noticed; he did notwish to sell them, and was still trying to find some way oftransferring the certificates. In this horrible state of uncertaintyhe bethought him of acknowledging all to his wife and getting heradvice. Zelie, who always managed affairs for him so well, she couldget him out of his troubles. The three-per-cent Funds were now sellingat eighty. Restitution! why, that meant, with arrearages, giving up amillion! Give up a million, when there was no one who could know thathe had taken it!--

So Minoret continued through September and a part of Octoberirresolute and a prey to his torturing thoughts. To the great surpriseof the little town he grew thin and haggard. 

 CHAPTER XX

 REMORSE

An alarming circumstance hastened the confession which Minoret wasinclined to make to Zelie; the sword of Damocles began to move abovetheir heads. Towards the middle of October Monsieur and Madame Minoretreceived from their son Desire the following letter:--

 My dear Mother, --If I have not been to see you since vacation, it is partly because I have been on duty during the absence of my chief, but also because I knew that Monsieur de Portenduere was waiting my arrival at Nemours, to pick a quarrel with me. Tired, perhaps, of seeing his vengeance on our family delayed, the viscount came to Fontainebleau, where he had appointed one of his Parisian friends to meet him, having already obtained the help of the Vicomte de Soulanges commanding the troop of cavalry here in garrison. 

 He called upon me, very politely, accompanied by the two gentlemen, and told me that my father was undoubtedly the instigator of the malignant persecutions against Ursula Mirouet, his future wife; he gave me proofs, and told me of Goupil's confession before witnesses. He also told me of my father's conduct, first in refusing to pay Goupil the price agreed on for his wicked invention, and next, out of fear of Goupil's malignity, going security to Monsieur Dionis for the price of his practice which Goupil is to have. 

 The viscount, not being able to fight a man sixty-seven years of age, and being determined to have satisfaction for the insults offered to Ursula, demanded it formally of me. His determination, having been well-weighed and considered, could not be shaken. If I refused, he was resolved to meet me in society before persons whose esteem I value, and insult me openly. In France, a coward is unanimously scorned. Besides, the motives for demanding reparation should be explained by honorable men. He said he was sorry to resort to such extremities. His seconds declared it would be wiser in me to arrange a meeting in the usual manner among men of honor, so that Ursula Mirouet might not be known as the cause of the quarrel; to avoid all scandal it was better to make a journey to the nearest frontier. In short, my seconds met his yesterday, and they unanimously agreed that I owed him reparation. A week from to-day I leave for Geneva with my two friends. Monsieur de Portenduere, Monsieur de Soulanges, and Monsieur de Trailles will meet me there. 

 The preliminaries of the duel are settled; we shall fight with pistols; each fires three times, and after that, no matter what happens, the affair terminates. To keep this degrading matter from public knowledge (for I find it impossible to justify my father's conduct) I do not go to see you now, because I dread the violence of the emotion to which you would yield and which would not be seemly. If I am to make my way in the world I must conform to the rules of society. If the son of a viscount has a dozen reasons for fighting a duel the son of a post master has a hundred. I shall pass the night in Nemours on my way to Geneva, and I will bid you good-by then. 

After the reading of this letter a scene took place between Zelie andMinoret which ended in the latter confessing the theft and relatingall the circumstances and the strange scenes connected with it, evenUrsula's dreams. The million fascinated Zelie quite as much as it didMinoret. 

"You stay quietly here, " Zelie said to her husband, without theslightest remonstrance against his folly. "I'll manage the wholething. We'll keep the money, and Desire shall not fight a duel. "

Madame Minoret put on her bonnet and shawl and carried her son'sletter to Ursula, whom she found alone, as it was about midday. Inspite of her assurance Zelie was discomfited by the cold look whichthe young girl gave her. But she took herself to task for hercowardice and assumed an easy air. 

"Here, Mademoiselle Mirouet, do me the kindness to read that and tellme what you think of it, " she cried, giving Ursula her son's letter. 

Ursula went through various conflicting emotions as she read theletter, which showed her how truly she was loved and what careSavinien took of the honor of the woman who was to be his wife; butshe had too much charity and true religion to be willing to be thecause of death or suffering to her most cruel enemy. 

"I promise, madame, to prevent the duel; you may feel perfectly easy, --but I must request you to leave me this letter. "

"My dear little angel, can we not come to some better arrangement. Monsieur Minoret and I have acquired property about Rouvre, --a reallyregal castle, which gives us forty-eight thousand francs a year; weshall give Desire twenty-four thousand a year which we have in theFunds; in all, seventy thousand francs a year. You will admit thatthere are not many better matches than he. You are an ambitious girl, --and quite right too, " added Zelie, seeing Ursula's quick gesture ofdenial; "I have therefore come to ask your hand for Desire. You willbear your godfather's name, and that will honor it. Desire, as youmust have seen, is a handsome fellow; he is very much thought of atFontainebleau, and he will soon be procureur du roi himself. You are acoaxing girl and can easily persuade him to live in Paris. We willgive you a fine house there; you will shine; you will play adistinguished part; for, with seventy thousand francs a year and thesalary of an office, you and Desire can enter the highest society. Consult your friends; you'll see what they tell you. "

"I need only consult my heart, madame. "

"Ta, ta, ta! now don't talk to me about that little lady-killerSavinien. You'd pay too high a price for his name, and for that littlemoustache curled up at the points like two hooks, and his black hair. How do you expect to manage on seven thousand francs a year, with aman who made two hundred thousand francs of debt in two years? Besides--though this is a thing you don't know yet--all men are alike; andwithout flattering myself too much, I may say that my Desire is theequal of a king's son. "

"You forget, madame, the danger your son is in at this moment; whichcan, perhaps, be averted only by Monsieur de Portenduere's desire toplease me. If he knew that you had made me these unworthy proposalsthat danger might not be escaped. Besides, let me tell you, madame, that I shall be far happier in the moderate circumstances to which youallude than I should be in the opulence with which you are trying todazzle me. For reasons hitherto unknown, but which will yet be madeknown, Monsieur Minoret, by persecuting me in an odious manner, strengthened the affection that exists between Monsieur de Portenduereand myself--which I can now admit because his mother has blessed it. Iwill also tell you that this affection, sanctioned and legitimate, islife itself to me. No destiny, however brilliant, however lofty, couldmake me change. I love without the possibility of changing. It wouldtherefore be a crime if I married a man to whom I could take nothingbut a soul that is Savinien's. But, madame, since you force me to beexplicit, I must tell you that even if I did not love Monsieur dePortenduere I could not bring myself to bear the troubles and joys oflife in the company of your son. If Monsieur Savinien made debts, youhave often paid those of your son. Our characters have neither thesimilarities nor the differences which enable two persons to livetogether without bitterness. Perhaps I should not have towards him theforbearance a wife owes to her husband; I should then be a trial tohim. Pray cease to think of an alliance of which I count myself quiteunworthy, and which I fell I can decline without pain to you; for withthe great advantages you name to me, you cannot fail to find some girlof better station, more wealth, and more beauty than mine. "

"Will you swear to me, " said Zelie, "to prevent these young men fromtaking that journey and fighting that duel?"

"It will be, I foresee, the greatest sacrifice that Monsieur dePortenduere can make to me, but I shall tell him that my bridal crownmust have no blood upon it. "

"Well, I thank you, cousin, and I can only hope you will be happy. "

"And I, madame, sincerely wish that you may realize all yourexpectations for the future of your son. "

These words struck a chill to the heart of the mother, who suddenlyremembered the predictions of Ursula's last dream; she stood still, her small eyes fixed on Ursula's face, so white, so pure, so beautifulin her mourning dress, for Ursula had risen too to hasten herso-called cousin's departure. 

"Do you believe in dreams?" said Zelie. 

"I suffer from them too much not to do so. "

"But if you do--" began Zelie. 

"Adieu, madame, " exclaimed Ursula, bowing to Madame Minoret as sheheard the abbe's entering step. 

The priest was surprised to find Madame Minoret with Ursula. Theuneasiness depicted on the thin and wrinkled face of the former postmistress induced him to take note of the two women. 

"Do you believe in spirits?" Zelie asked him. 

"What do you believe in?" he answered, smiling. 

"They are all sly, " thought Zelie, --"every one of them! They want todeceive us. That old priest and the old justice and that young scampSavinien have got some plan in their heads. Dreams! no more dreamsthan there are hairs on the palm of my hand. "

With two stiff, curt bows she left the room. 

"I know why Savinien went to Fontainebleau, " said Ursula to the abbe, telling him about the duel and begging him to use his influence toprevent it. 

"Did Madame Minoret offer you her son's hand?" asked the abbe. 

"Yes. "

"Minoret has no doubt confessed his crime to her, " added the priest. 

Monsieur Bongrand, who came in at this moment, was told of the steptaken by Zelie, whose hatred to Ursula was well known to him. Helooked at the abbe as if to say: "Come out, I want to speak to you ofUrsula without her hearing me. "

"Savinien must be told that you refused eighty thousand francs a yearand the dandy of Nemours, " he said aloud. 

"Is it, then, a sacrifice?" she answered, laughing. "Are theresacrifices when one truly loves? Is it any merit to refuse the son ofa man we all despise? Others may make virtues of their dislikes, butthat ought not to be the morality of a girl brought up by a de Jordy, and the abbe, and my dear godfather, " she said, looking up at hisportrait. 

Bongrand took Ursula's hand and kissed it. 

"Do you know what Madame Minoret came about?" said the justice as soonas they were in the street. 

"What?" asked the priest, looking at Bongrand with an air that seemedmerely curious. 

"She had some plan for restitution. "

"Then you think--" began the abbe. 

"I don't think, I know; I have the certainty--and see there!"

So saying, Bongrand pointed to Minoret, who was coming towards them onhis way home. 

"When I was a lawyer in the criminal courts, " continued Bongrand, "Inaturally had many opportunities to study remorse; but I have neverseen any to equal that of this man. What gives him that flaccidity, that pallor of the cheeks where the skin was once as tight as a drumand bursting with the good sound health of a man without a care? Whathas put those black circles round his eyes and dulled their rusticvivacity? Did you ever expect to see lines of care on that forehead?Who would have supposed that the brain of that colossus could beexcited? The man has felt his heart! I am a judge of remorse, just asyou are a judge of repentance, my dear abbe. That which I havehitherto observed has developed in men who were awaiting punishment, or enduring it to get quits with the world; they were either resigned, or breathing vengeance; but here is remorse without expiation, remorsepure and simple, fastening on its prey and rending him. "

The judge stopped Minoret and said: "Do you know that MademoiselleMirouet has refused your son's hand?"

"But, " interposed the abbe, "do not be uneasy; she will prevent theduel. "

"Ah, then my wife succeeded?" said Minoret. "I am very glad, for itnearly killed me. "

"You are, indeed, so changed that you are no longer like yourself, "remarked Bongrand. 

Minoret looked alternately at the two men to see if the priest hadbetrayed the dreams; but the abbe's face was unmoved, expressing onlya calm sadness which reassured the guilty man. 

"And it is the more surprising, " went on Monsieur Bongrand, "becauseyou ought to be filled with satisfaction. You are lord of Rouvre andall those farms and mills and meadows and--with your investments inthe Funds, you have an income of one hundred thousand francs--"

"I haven't anything in the Funds, " cried Minoret, hastily. 

"Pooh, " said Bongrand; "this is just as it was about your son's lovefor Ursula, --first he denied it, and now he asks her in marriage. After trying to kill Ursula with sorrow you now want her for adaughter-in-law. My good friend, you have got some secret in yourpouch. "

Minoret tried to answer; he searched for words and could find nothingbetter than:--

"You're very queer, monsieur. Good-day, gentlemen"; and he turned witha slow step into the Rue des Bourgeois. 

"He has stolen the fortune of our poor Ursula, " said Bongrand, "buthow can we ever find the proof?"

"God may--"

"God has put into us the sentiment that is now appealing to that man;but all that is merely what is called 'presumptive, ' and human justicerequires something more. "

The abbe maintained the silence of a priest. As often happens insimilar circumstances, he thought much oftener than he wished to thinkof the robbery, now almost admitted by Minoret, and of Savinien'shappiness, delayed only by Ursula's loss of fortune--for the old ladyhad privately owned to him that she knew she had done wrong in notconsenting to the marriage in the doctor's lifetime. 

 CHAPTER XXI

 SHOWING HOW DIFFICULT IT IS TO STEAL THAT WHICH SEEMS VERY EASILY STOLEN

The following day, as the abbe was leaving the altar after sayingmass, a thought struck him with such force that it seemed to him theutterance of a voice. He made a sign to Ursula to wait for him, andaccompanied her home without having breakfasted. 

"My child, " he said, "I want to see the two volumes your godfathershowed you in your dreams--where he said that he placed thosecertificates and banknotes. "

Ursula and the abbe went up to the library and took down the thirdvolume of the Pandects. When the old man opened it he noticed, notwithout surprise, a mark left by some enclosure upon the pages, whichstill kept the outline of the certificate. In the other volume hefound a sort of hollow made by the long-continued presence of apackage, which had left its traces on the two pages next to it. 

"Yes, go up, Monsieur Bongrand, " La Bougival was heard to say, and thejustice of the peace came into the library just as the abbe wasputting on his spectacles to read three numbers in Doctor Minoret'shand-writing on the fly-leaf of colored paper with which the binderhad lined the cover of the volume, --figures which Ursula had justdiscovered. 

"What's the meaning of those figures?" said the abbe; "our dear doctorwas too much of a bibliophile to spoil the fly-leaf of a valuablevolume. Here are three numbers written between a first number precededby the letter M and a last number preceded by a U. "

"What are you talking of?" said Bongrand. "Let me see that. Good God!"he cried, after a moment's examination; "it would open the eyes of anatheist as an actual demonstration of Providence! Human justice is, Ibelieve, the development of the divine thought which hovers over theworlds. " He seized Ursula and kissed her forehead. "Oh! my child, youwill be rich and happy, and all through me!"

"What is it?" exclaimed the abbe. 

"Oh, monsieur, " cried La Bougival, catching Bongrand's blue overcoat, "let me kiss you for what you've just said. "

"Explain, explain! don't give us false hopes, " said the abbe. 

"If I bring trouble on others by becoming rich, " said Ursula, forseeing a criminal trial, "I--"

"Remember, " said the justice, interrupting her, "the happiness youwill give to Savinien. "

"Are you mad?" said the abbe. 

"No, my dear friend, " said Bongrand. "Listen; the certificates in theFunds are issued in series, --as many series as there are letters inthe alphabet; and each number bears the letter of its series. But thecertificates which are made out 'to bearer' cannot have a letter; theyare not in any person's name. What you see there shows that the daythe doctor placed his money in the Funds, he noted down, first, thenumber of his own certificate for fifteen thousand francs interestwhich bears his initial M; next, the numbers of three inscriptions tobearer; these are without a letter; and thirdly, the certificate ofUrsula's share in the Funds, the number of which is 23, 534, and whichfollows, as you see, that of the fifteen-thousand-franc certificatewith lettering. This goes far to prove that those numbers are those offive certificates of investments made on the same day and noted downby the doctor in case of loss. I advised him to take certificates tobearer for Ursula's fortune, and he must have made his own investmentand that of Ursula's little property the same day. I'll go to Dionis'soffice and look at the inventory. If the number of the certificate forhis own investment is 23, 533, letter M, we may be sure that heinvested, through the same broker on the same day, first his ownproperty on a single certificate; secondly his savings in threecertificates to bearer (numbered, but without the series letter);thirdly, Ursula's own property; the transfer books will show, ofcourse, undeniable proofs of this. Ha! Minoret, you deceiver, I haveyou-- Motus, my children!"

Whereupon he left them abruptly to reflect with admiration on the waysby which Providence had brought the innocent to victory. 

"The finger of God is in all this, " cried the abbe. 

"Will they punish him?" asked Ursula. 

"Ah, mademoiselle, " cried La Bougival. "I'd give the rope to hanghim. "

Bongrand was already at Goupil's, now the appointed successor ofDionis, but he entered the office with a careless air. "I have alittle matter to verify about the Minoret property, " he said toGoupil. 

"What is it?" asked the latter. 

"The doctor left one or more certificates in the three-per-centFunds?"

"He left one for fifteen thousand francs a year, " said Goupil; "Irecorded it myself. "

"Then just look on the inventory, " said Bongrand. 

Goupil took down a box, hunted through it, drew out a paper, found theplace, and read:--

"'Item, one certificate'-- Here, read for yourself--under the number23, 533, letter M. "

"Do me the kindness to let me have a copy of that clause within anhour, " said Bongrand. 

"What good is it to you?" asked Goupil. 

"Do you want to be a notary?" answered the justice of peace, lookingsternly at Dionis's proposed successor. 

"Of course I do, " cried Goupil. "I've swallowed too many affronts notto succeed now. I beg you to believe, monsieur, that the miserablecreature once called Goupil has nothing in common with MaitreJean-Sebastien-Marie Goupil, notary of Nemours and husband ofMademoiselle Massin. The two beings do not know each other. They areno longer even alike. Look at me!"

Thus adjured Monsieur Bongrand took notice of Goupil's clothes. Thenew notary wore a white cravat, a shirt of dazzling whiteness adornedwith ruby buttons, a waistcoat of red velvet, with trousers and coatof handsome black broad-cloth, made in Paris. His boots were neat; hishair, carefully combed, was perfumed--in short he was metamorphosed. 

"The fact is you are another man, " said Bongrand. 

"Morally as well as physically. Virtue comes with practice--apractice; besides, money is the source of cleanliness--"

"Morally as well as physically, " returned Bongrand, settling hisspectacles. 

"Ha! monsieur, is a man worth a hundred thousand francs a year ever ademocrat? Consider me in future as an honest man who knows whatrefinement is, and who intends to love his wife, " said Goupil; "andwhat's more, I shall prevent my clients from ever doing dirtyactions. "

"Well, make haste, " said Bongrand. "Let me have that copy in an hour, and notary Goupil will have undone some of the evil deeds of Goupilthe clerk. "

After asking the Nemours doctor to lend him his horse and cabriolet, he went back to Ursula's house for the two important volumes and forher own certificate of Funds; then, armed with the extract from theinventory, he drove to Fontainebleau and had an interview with theprocureur du roi. Bongrand easily convinced that official of the theftof the three certificates by one or other of the heirs, --presumably byMinoret. 

"His conduct is explained, " said the procureur. 

As a measure of precaution the magistrate at once notified theTreasury to withhold transfer of the said certificates, and toldBongrand to go to Paris and ascertain if the shares had ever beensold. He then wrote a polite note to Madame Minoret requesting herpresence. 

Zelie, very uneasy about her son's duel, dressed herself at once, hadthe horses put to her carriage and hurried to Fontainebleau. Theprocureur's plan was simple enough. By separating the wife from thehusband, and bringing the terrors of the law to bear upon her, heexpected to learn the truth. Zelie found the official in his privateoffice and was utterly annihilated when he addressed her as follows:--

"Madame, " he said; "I do not believe you are an accomplice in a theftthat has been committed upon the Minoret property, on the track ofwhich the law is now proceeding. But you can spare your husband theshame of appearing in the prisoner's dock by making a full confessionof what you know about it. The punishment which your husband hasincurred is, moreover, not the only thing to be dreaded. Your son'scareer is to be thought of; you must avoid destroying that. Half anhour hence will be too late. The police are already under orders forNemours, the warrant is made out. "

Zelie nearly fainted; when she recovered her senses she confessedeverything. After proving to her that she was in point of fact anaccomplice, the magistrate told her that if she did not wish to injureeither son or husband she must behave with the utmost prudence. 

"You have now to do with me as an individual, not as a magistrate, " hesaid. "No complaint has been lodged by the victim, nor has anypublicity been given to the theft. But your husband has committed agreat crime, which may be brought before a judge less inclined thanmyself to be considerate. In the present state of the affair I amobliged to make you a prisoner--oh, in my own house, on parole, " headded, seeing that Zelie was about to faint. "You must remember thatmy official duty would require me to issue a warrant at once and beginan examination; but I am acting now individually, as guardian ofMademoiselle Ursula Mirouet, and her best interests demand acompromise. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Zelie. 

"Write to your husband in the following words, " he continued, placingZelie at his desk and proceeding to dictate the letter:--

 "My Friend, --I am arrested, and I have told all. Return the certificates which uncle left to Monsieur de Portenduere in the will which you burned; for the procureur du roi has stopped payment at the Treasury. "

"You will thus save him from the denials he would otherwise attempt tomake, " said the magistrate, smiling at Zelie's orthography. "We willsee that the restitution is properly made. My wife will make your stayin our house as agreeable as possible. I advise you to say nothing ofthe matter and not to appear anxious or unhappy. "

Now that Zelie had confessed and was safely immured, the magistratesent for Desire, told him all the particulars of his father's theft, which was really to Ursula's injury, but, as matters stood, legally tothat of his co-heirs, and showed him the letter written by his mother. Desire at once asked to be allowed to go to Nemours and see that hisfather made immediate restitution. 

"It is a very serious matter, " said the magistrate. "The will havingbeen destroyed, if the matter gets wind, the co-heirs, Massin andCremiere may put in a claim. I have proof enough against your father. I will release your mother, for I think the little ceremony that hasalready taken place has been sufficient warning as to her duty. Toher, I will seem to have yielded to your entreaties in releasing her. Take her with you to Nemours, and manage the whole matter as best youcan. Don't fear any one. Monsieur Bongrand loves Ursula Mirouet toowell to let the matter become known. "

Zelie and Desire started soon after for Nemours. Three hours later theprocureur du roi received by a mounted messenger the following letter, the orthography of which has been corrected so as not to bringridicule on a man crushed by affliction. 

To Monsieur le procureur du roi at Fontainebleau:

Monsieur, --God is less kind to us than you; we have met with anirreparable misfortune. When my wife and son reached the bridge atNemours a trace became unhooked. There was no servant behind thecarriage; the horses smelt the stable; my son, fearing theirimpatience, jumped down to hook the trace rather than have thecoachman leave the box. As he turned to resume his place in thecarriage beside his mother the horses started; Desire did not stepback against the parapet in time; the step of the carriage cutthrough both legs and he fell, the hind wheel passing over hisbody. The messenger who goes to Paris for the best surgeon willbring you this letter, which my son in the midst of his sufferingsdesires me to write so as to let you know our entire submission toyour decisions in the matter about which he was coming to speak to me. 

I shall be grateful to you to my dying day for the manner in whichyou have acted, and I will deserve your goodness. 

Francois Minoret. 

This cruel event convulsed the whole town of Nemours. The crowdsstanding about the gate of the Minoret house were the first to tellSavinien that his vengeance had been taken by a hand more powerfulthan his own. He went at once to Ursula's house, where he found boththe abbe and the young girl more distressed than surprised. 

The next day, after the wounds were dressed, and the doctors andsurgeons from Paris had given their opinion that both legs must beamputated, Minoret went, pale, humbled, and broken down, accompaniedby the abbe, to Ursula's house, where he found also Monsieur Bongrandand Savinien. 

"Mademoiselle, " he said; "I am very guilty towards you; but if all thewrongs I have done you are not wholly reparable, there are some that Ican expiate. My wife and I have made a vow to make over to you inabsolute possession our estate at Rouvre in case our son recovers, andalso in case we have the dreadful sorrow of losing him. "

He burst into tears as he said the last words. 

"I can assure you, my dear Ursula, " said the abbe, "that you can andthat you ought to accept a part of this gift. "

"Will you forgive me?" said Minoret, humbly kneeling before theastonished girl. "The operation is about to be performed by the firstsurgeon of the Hotel-Dieu; but I do not trust to human science, I relyonly on the power of God. If you will forgive us, if you ask God torestore our son to us, he will have strength to bear the agony and weshall have the joy of saving him. "

"Let us go to the church!" cried Ursula, rising. 

But as she gained her feet, a piercing cry came from her lips, and shefell backward fainting. When her senses returned, she saw her friends--but not Minoret who had rushed for a doctor--looking at her withanxious eyes, seeking an explanation. As she gave it, terror filledtheir hearts. 

"I saw my godfather standing in the doorway, " she said, "and he signedto me that there was no hope. "

The day after the operation Desire died, --carried off by the fever andthe shock to the system that succeed operations of this nature. MadameMinoret, whose heart had no other tender feeling than maternity, became insane after the burial of her son, and was taken by herhusband to the establishment of Doctor Blanche, where she died in1841. 

Three months after these events, in January, 1837, Ursula marriedSavinien with Madame de Portenduere's consent. Minoret took part inthe marriage contract and insisted on giving Mademoiselle Mirouet hisestate at Rouvre and an income of twenty-four thousand francs from theFunds; keeping for himself only his uncle's house and ten thousandfrancs a year. He has become the most charitable of men, and the mostreligious; he is churchwarden of the parish, and has made himself theprovidence of the unfortunate. 

"The poor take the place of my son, " he said. 

If you have ever noticed by the wayside, in countries where they pollthe oaks, some old tree, whitened and as if blasted, still throwingout its twigs though its trunk is riven and seems to implore the axe, you will have an idea of the old post master, with his white hair, --broken, emaciated, in whom the elders of the town can see no traceof the jovial dullard whom you first saw watching for his son at thebeginning of this history; he does not even take his snuff as he oncedid; he carries something more now than the weight of his body. Beholding him, we feel that the hand of God was laid upon that figureto make it an awful warning. After hating so violently his uncle'sgodchild the old man now, like Doctor Minoret himself, hasconcentrated all his affections on her, and has made himself themanager of her property in Nemours. 

Monsieur and Madame de Portenduere pass five months of the year inParis, where they have bought a handsome house in the FaubourgSaint-Germain. Madame de Portenduere the elder, after giving her housein Nemours to the Sisters of Charity for a free school, went to live atRouvre, where La Bougival keeps the porter's lodge. Cabirolle, theformer conductor of the "Ducler, " a man sixty years of age, hasmarried La Bougival and the twelve hundred francs a year which shepossesses besides the ample emoluments of her place. Young Cabirolleis Monsieur de Portenduere's coachman. 

If you happen to see in the Champs-Elysees one of those charminglittle low carriages called 'escargots, ' lined with gray silk andtrimmed with blue, and containing a pretty young woman whom you admirebecause her face is wreathed in innumerable fair curls, her eyesluminous as forget-me-nots and filled with love; if you see herbending slightly towards a fine young man, and, if you are, for amoment, conscious of envy--pause and reflect that this handsomecouple, beloved of God, have paid their quota to the sorrows of lifein times now past. These married lovers are the Vicomte de Portenduereand his wife. There is not another such home in Paris as theirs. 

"It is the sweetest happiness I have ever seen, " said the Comtesse del'Estorade, speaking of them lately. 

Bless them, therefore, and be not envious; seek an Ursula foryourselves, a young girl brought up by three old men, and by the bestof all mothers--adversity. 

Goupil, who does service to everybody and is justly considered thewittiest man in Nemours, has won the esteem of the little town, but heis punished in his children, who are rickety and hydrocephalous. Dionis, his predecessor, flourishes in the Chamber of Deputies, ofwhich he is one of the finest ornaments, to the great satisfaction ofthe king of the French, who sees Madame Dionis at all his balls. Madame Dionis relates to the whole town of Nemours the particulars ofher receptions at the Tuileries and the splendor of the court of theking of the French. She lords it over Nemours by means of the throne, which therefore must be popular in the little town. 

Bongrand is chief-justice of the court of appeals at Melun. His son isin the way of becoming an honest attorney-general. 

Madame Cremiere continues to make her delightful speeches. On theoccasion of her daughter's marriage, she exhorted her to be theworking caterpillar of the household, and to look into everything withthe eyes of a sphinx. Goupil is making a collection of her"slapsus-linquies, " which he calls a Cremiereana. 

"We have had the great sorrow of losing our good Abbe Chaperon, " saidthe Vicomtesse de Portenduere this winter--having nursed him herselfduring his illness. "The whole canton came to his funeral. Nemours isvery fortunate, however, for the successor of that dear saint is thevenerable cure of Saint-Lange. "

ADDENDUM

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

Bouvard, Doctor Scenes from a Courtesan's Life

Dionis The Member for Arcis

Estorade, Madame de l' Letters of Two Brides The Member for Arcis

Kergarouet, Comte de The Purse The Ball at Sceaux

Lupeaulx, Clement Chardin des The Muse of the Department Eugenie Grandet A Bachelor's Establishment A Distinguished Provincial at Paris The Government Clerks Scenes from a Courtesan's Life

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

Mirouet, Ursule (see Portenduere, Vicomtesse Savinien de)

Nathan, Madame Raoul The Muse of the Department Lost Illusions A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Scenes from a Courtesan's Life The Government Clerks A Bachelor's Establishment Eugenie Grandet The Imaginary Mistress A Prince of Bohemia A Daughter of Eve The Unconscious Humorists

Portenduere, Vicomte Savinien de The Ball at Sceaux Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Beatrix

Portenduere, Vicomtesse Savinien de Another Study of Woman Beatrix

Ronquerolles, Marquis de The Imaginary Mistress The Peasantry A Woman of Thirty Another Study of Woman The Thirteen The Member for Arcis

Rouvre, Marquis du The Imaginary Mistress A Start in Life

Rouvre, Chevalier du The Imaginary Mistress

Rubempre, Lucien-Chardon de Lost Illusions A Distinguished Provincial at Paris The Government Clerks Scenes from a Courtesan's Life

Schmucke, Wilhelm A Daughter of Eve Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Cousin Pons

Serizy, Comtesse de A Start in Life The Thirteen A Woman of Thirty Scenes from a Courtesan's Life Another Study of Woman The Imaginary Mistress

Trailles, Comte Maxime de Cesar Birotteau Father Goriot Gobseck A Man of Business The Member for Arcis The Secrets of a Princess Cousin Betty Beatrix The Unconscious Humorists

Vandenesse, Marquise Charles de Cesar Birotteau The Ball at Sceaux A Daughter of Eve