THE SUPPER.
The young men examined the adventurer with a surprise that they tried
in vain to conceal, and which, spite of themselves, was reflected on
their faces.
Raimbaut, aided by Lanca Ibarru, brought in a ready-laid table, which
he placed before don Adolfo.
"By Jove, gentlemen!" the adventurer said gaily, "Master Raimbaut
has had the charming attention to lay covers for three, evidently
foreseeing that you would not refuse to keep me company; forget your
thoughts for a moment, then, I beg, and come to table."
"Most willingly," they replied, as they took the seat by his side.
The meal began; don Adolfo ate with good appetite while talking with
a humour and quickness they had never noticed in him before. He was
inexhaustible; it was a rolling fire of sallies, witticisms, and neatly
told anecdotes that poured from his lips. The young men looked at each
other, for they did not at all comprehend this singular temper; for,
in spite of the gaiety of his remarks and his easiness of manner,
the adventurer's brow remained thoughtful, and his face retained its
habitual coldly sarcastic expression. Still, excited by this most
communicative gaiety, they soon forgot all their anxieties, and allowed
themselves to be won by this apparently so frank joy, ere a contest of
laughter and merry remarks was mingled with the clink of glasses and
the rattle of the knives and forks. The servants were dismissed, and
the three friends left alone.
"Really, gentlemen," don Adolfo said as he uncorked a bottle of
champagne, "of all meals, in my opinion, supper is the best; our
fathers liked it, and were right; among other good customs that are
departing, this one is going, and will soon be entirely forgotten. I,
for one, shall regret it sincerely." He filled his companions' glasses.
"Permit me," he continued, "to drink your health in this wine, one of
the most delicious productions of your country." And after hobnobbing,
he emptied the glass at one draught. The bottles rapidly succeeded
each other, for the glasses were no sooner filled than emptied. They
soon began to grow excited. Then they lit cigars, and attacked the
liqueurs--Jamaica rum, Cataluña refino, and French brandy. With their
elbows on the table, and enveloped in a dense cloud of fragrant smoke,
they went on talking with less reservation, and insensibly--they did
not perceive it themselves--their conversation assumed a more earnest
and confidential character.
"Bah!" Dominique suddenly said, throwing himself back comfortably in
his chair, "Life is a good thing, and above all a beautiful one."
At this outburst, which fell into the centre of the conversation like
an aerolite, the adventurer burst into a sharp, nervous laugh.
"Bravo!" he said, "That is first-class philosophy. This man, who
was born, he does not know of whom or where, who has sprung up like
a sturdy mushroom, never knowing any other friend save myself, who
does not possess a shilling, considers life a beautiful thing and
congratulates himself on enjoying it. By Jove! I should be curious to
hear this fine theory developed a little."
"Nothing is easier," the young man replied, without any excitement.
"I was born I know not where, that is true: but it is a blessing for
me. The whole earth is my country. To whatever nation they may belong,
men are my countrymen. I do not know my parents: but who knows whether
this is not also a blessing for me? By their desertion they freed me
from respect and gratitude for the cares they might have bestowed on
me, and left me at liberty to act as I pleased, without having reason
to fear their control. I never had but one friend: but how many men can
flatter themselves with possessing even so much? Mine is kind, sincere,
and devoted. I have always felt him near me, when I wanted him to share
my joy or sorrow; to support me and attach me by his friendship to the
great human family, from which I should be exiled without him. I do not
possess a shilling: that is also true--but what do I care for wealth? I
am strong, brave, and intelligent; ought not man to work? I accomplish
my task like the rest, perhaps better, for I envy nobody and am happy
with my lot. You see clearly, my dear Adolfo, that life is to me at
least a good and beautiful thing, as I said just now. I defy you, the
skeptic and disabused man, to prove to me the contrary."
"Perfectly answered, on my word," the adventurer said. "All these
reasons, though specious and easy to refute, do not the less appear
very logical, and I shall not take the trouble to discuss them. Still,
I will remark, my friend, that when you treat me as a skeptic, you are
mistaken; disabused, perhaps, I am, but a skeptic I shall never be."
"Oh, oh!" the two young men exclaimed simultaneously. "That demands an
explanation, don Adolfo."
"And I will give it you, if you insist upon it: but what is the good?
Stay, I have a proposal to make to you, which I think will please you."
"Go on; speak."
"It is now nearly morning, in a few hours it will be day, none of us
are sleepy, so let us remain as we are and continue to talk."
"Certainly; I desire nothing better for my part," the count said.
"And I the same. But what shall we talk about?" Dominique observed.
"If you like, I will tell you an adventure or a story--give it which
name you like--that I heard this very day, and whose correctness I can
guarantee; for the person who told it me, I have known a long time, and
he played an important part in it."
"Why not tell us your own story, don Adolfo? It must be filled with
touching events and curious incidents," the count said meaningly.
"Well, you are mistaken, Count," Oliver answered, simply. "Nothing can
be less touching than what you are pleased to call my story; it is much
the same as that of all smugglers, for you know, I believe," he added,
confidentially, "that I am nothing else. The existence of all of us is
the same; we act cunningly to pass the goods intrusted to us, and the
custom house officers do the same to prevent it and seize us. Hence
arise combats, which sometimes, though rarely, thank Heaven, become
blood-thirsty. Such is substantially the story you ask of me, my dear
Count. You see that there is nothing essentially interesting in it."
"I do not press you, dear don Adolfo," the count answered with a smile.
"Pass on to something else, if you please."
"In that case," Dominique said to the adventurer, "you are at liberty
to begin your story whenever you please."
Oliver filled a champagne glass with Cataluña refino, emptied it at a
draught, and then struck the table with the handle of his knife.
"Attention, gentlemen," he said. "I am about to begin. I must before
all claim your indulgence for certain gaps, and also for some obscure
points which will be found in my narrative. I must again remark that
I am merely repeating what was told to me, that consequently there
are many things of which I am ignorant, and that I cannot be rendered
responsible for reticences, probably made purposely by the first
narrator, who no doubt had motives known to himself alone, for leaving
in the dark some incidents of the day, which is, however, very curious,
I assure you."
"Begin, begin," they said.
"There is another difficulty in the narrative," he continued
imperturbably, "it is that I am utterly ignorant in what country it
occurred: but that is only of relative importance, as men are nearly
the same everywhere, that is to say, agitated and governed by identical
vices and passions; all that I fancy I can be certain of is, that
it took place in the Old World--but you shall judge for yourselves.
Well, then, there was in Germany--let us suppose, if you please, that
the scene of this truthful story is laid in Germany--there was, I was
saying, a rich and powerful family, whose nobility went back to the
most remote period. You know, of course, that the German nobility are
the oldest in the world, and that the traditions of honour have been
preserved among them almost intact to the present day. Now, the Prince
of Oppenheim-Schlewig, we will call him, so as the head of the family
is a prince--had two sons nearly of the same age, as there were only
two or three years' difference between them; both were handsome and
endowed with brilliant intellects, these two young gentlemen had been
educated with the utmost care, under the eyes of their father, who
attentively watched their education. It is not the same in Germany
as in America, for there the power of the head of the family is very
extensive and most respected. There is something truly patriarchal
in the way in which the internal discipline of the household is
maintained. The young men profited by the lessons they received, but as
they grew older their characters became more marked, and it was soon
easy to recognize a great difference between them, although both were
perfect gentlemen in the common acceptation of the term. Their moral
qualities, however, were completely different; the first was gentle,
affable, obliging, earnest, attached to his duties, and extremely
attached to the honour of his name. The second displayed very different
tastes, although he was very proud and punctilious; still, he did not
fear to compromise the respect he owed his name in the lowest resorts
and amongst the worst company; in a word, he led a most dissipated
and rackety life. The prince bewailed in secret the debauchery of
his younger son; he several times summoned him to his presence, and
addressed severe remonstrances to him. The young man listened to his
father respectfully, promised amendment, and went on the same as
before. France declared war against Germany. The Prince of Oppenheim
was one of the first to obey the orders of the emperor, and place
himself under his banner; his sons accompanied him as aides-de-camp,
and went under fire for the first time by his side. A few days' after
his arrival at the camp the prince was intrusted with a reconnaissance
by the general in chief; there a sharp skirmish with the enemy's
foragers, and, in the height of the action, the prince fell from his
horse. His friends gathered around, him, he died: but it was a strange
circumstance, and one never explained, that the bullet which caused his
death had entered between his shoulders--he was shot from behind."
Don Adolfo stopped.
"Give me some drink," he said to Dominique.
The latter poured him out a glass of punch; he swallowed it almost
burning, and after passing his hand over his pale, dark forehead, he
resumed with pretended carelessness.
"The prince's two sons were some distance away when this catastrophe
occurred, they galloped up at once, but only found their father's
bleeding and disfigured corpse. The sorrow of the two young men was
immense, that of the elder gloomy and restrained, as it were; that
of the younger, on the contrary, noisy. In spite of the most minute
research, it was impossible to discover how the prince, while at the
head of his troops by whom he was adored, could have been struck from
behind: this always remained a mystery. The young men left the army and
returned home: the elder had assumed the title of prince and had become
head of the family, as in Germany the law of entail exists in all its
rigour, the younger was completely dependant on his brother, but the
latter would not leave him in this inferior and humiliating condition.
He gave up to him his mother's fortune, which was very considerable,
left him perfectly his own master, and authorized him to take the title
of marquis."
"Of duke, you mean," the count interrupted.
"That is true," don Adolfo continued, biting his lips. "Since he was a
prince--but you know that we republicans," he added, "are but little
used to these pompous titles, for which we profess the most profound
contempt."
"Go on," Dominique said carelessly.
Don Adolfo continued: "The duke realized his fortune, bade farewell
to his brother, and started for Vienna. The prince, who remained on
his estate among his vassals, did not hear from his brother for long
intervals; but the news he received about him was not of a pleasing
nature. The duke now set no bounds to his licentiousness, and matters
attained such a point that the prince was at length compelled to
interfere seriously, and give his brother an order to leave the
kingdom--I mean the empire--immediately, and the latter obeyed without
a murmur. Several years elapsed, during which the duke travelled over
the whole of Europe. Writing but rarely to his elder brother, he,
however, on each occasion, spoke of the change that had taken place in
him, and the radical reformation of his conduct. Whether he believed
in these protestations or not, the prince thought he could not refrain
from announcing to his brother that he was on the point of marrying a
noble, young, lovely, and rich heiress, that the marriage was about
to take place immediately, and probably expecting that distance would
prevent it, he invited his brother to be present at the nuptial
ceremony. If such was his idea, he was mistaken--the duke arrived on
the very eve of the marriage. His brother received him very well, and
gave him apartments in his palace. On the morrow the projected union
was accomplished."
"The duke's conduct was irreproachable: remaining with his brother,
he seemed anxious to please him in everything, and prove to him on
every possible occasion that his conversion was sincere. In short, he
played his part so well, that everybody was deceived, the prince first
of all, who not only restored him his friendship, but soon granted
him his entire confidence. The duke had returned from his travels
for some months; he seemed to regard life earnestly, and to have
but one desire, that of repairing the faults of his youth. Welcomed
in all families, at first with a slight coldness, but ere long with
distinction, he had almost succeeded in causing the errors of his past
life to be forgotten, when extraordinary rejoicings took place in
the county on the occasion of some _fête_ or anniversary. The prince
naturally assumed the initiative, as was his duty; and by his brother's
instigation he even resolved to take a part in them himself, in order
to give them greater lustre."
"It was intended to represent a species of tournament: the first nobles
of the surrounding country eagerly offered their assistance to the
prince, and at length the jousting day arrived. The prince's young
wife, who was in an advanced state of pregnancy, impelled by one of
those presentiments which come from the heart, and never deceive, tried
in vain to prevent her husband from entering the lists, confessing
to himself through her tears that she apprehended a misfortune. The
duke joined his sister-in-law in urging his brother to abstain from
appearing at the tournament otherwise than as a spectator; but the
prince, who considered his honour involved, was immoveable in his
resolution, jested, treated their fears as chimerical, and mounted
his horse to proceed to the scene of the tournament. An hour later he
was brought back dying. By an extraordinary accident, an unheard-of
fatality, the unfortunate prince had met with death at the spot
where he should only have found pleasure. The duke displayed extreme
sorrow at the frightful death of his brother. The prince's will was
immediately opened; he appointed his brother sole heir to all his
property, unless the princess, who, as I said, was in an advanced state
of pregnancy, gave birth to a son, in which case this son would inherit
his father's fortune and titles, and would remain till his majority
under the guardianship of his uncle."
"On learning her husband's death, the princess was suddenly seized
with the pangs of labour, and was delivered of a daughter. The second
clause of the will being thus annulled, the duke assumed the title of
prince, and took possession of his brother's fortune. The princess, in
spite of the most enticing offers her brother-in-law made her, refused
to continue to reside as a stranger in a palace where she had been
mistress, and returned to her family."
The adventurer made a pause.
"How do you like this story?" he asked his hearers, with an ironical
smile.
"I am waiting till you give us the counterpart," the count replied,
"before I offer my opinion about it."
The adventurer gave him a clear and piercing glance.
"Then," he said, "you fancy this is not all?"
"Every story," the count retorted, "is composed of two distinct parts."
"That is to say?"
"The true part, and the false."
"Will you explain yourself?"
"Willingly: the false part is that which is public, which everybody
knows, and can comment on and repeat as he likes."
"Good," he said, with a slight inclination of the head; "and the true
part?"
"That is the secret, the mysterious part, only known to two or three
persons at the most--the sheepskin removed from the wolfs shoulders."
"Or the mask of virtue torn from the face of the villain!" he
exclaimed, with a terrible outburst: "Is it not that?"
"Yes, indeed, it is."
"And you wait for this second part of the story?"
"I do," the count answered, sternly.
The adventurer sat for two or three minutes with his face buried in his
hands, then raised his head haughtily, emptied the glass before him,
and then said, in a loud, metallic voice--
"Well, listen, then, for by heaven! I swear to you that what you are
going to hear is worth the trouble, this time."