MEMORIES.
Djalma, having never before met the Princess de Saint-Dizier at
Adrienne's, at first appeared rather astonished at her presence. The
princess, keeping silence for a moment, contemplated with implacable
hatred and envy those two beings, both so fair and young, so loving and
happy. Suddenly she started, as if she had just remembered something of
great importance, and for some seconds she remained absorbed in thought.
Adrienne and Djalma availed themselves of this interval to gaze fondly on
each other, with a sort of ardent idolatry, which filled their eyes with
sweet tears. Then, at a movement of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, who
seemed to rouse herself from her momentary trance, Mdlle. de Cardoville
said to the young prince, with a smile: "My dear cousin, I have to repair
an omission (voluntary, I confess, and for good reasons), in never having
before mentioned to you one of my relations, whom I have now the honor to
present to you. The Princess de Saint-Dizier!"
Djalma bowed; but Mdlle. de Cardoville resumed, just as her aunt was
about to make some reply: "Her Highness of Saint-Dizier came very kindly
to inform me of an event which is a most fortunate one for me, and of
which I will speak to you hereafter, cousin--unless this amiable lady
should wish to deprive me of the pleasure of making such a
communication."
The unexpected arrival of the prince, and the recollections which had
suddenly occurred to the princess, had no doubt greatly modified her
first plans: for, instead of continuing the conversation with regard to
Adrienne's threatened loss of fortune, the princess answered, with a
bland smile, that covered an odious meaning: "I should be sorry, prince,
to deprive my dear and amiable niece of the pleasure of announcing to you
the happy news to which she alludes, and which, as a near relative, I
lost no time in communicating to her. I have here some notes on this
subject," added the princess, delivering a paper to Adrienne, "which I
hope will prove, to her entire satisfaction, the reality of what I have
announced to her."
"A thousand thanks, my dear aunt," said Adrienne, receiving the paper
with perfect indifference; "these precautions and proofs are quite
superfluous. You know that I always believe you on your word, when it
concerns your good feeling towards myself."
Notwithstanding his ignorance of the refined perfidy and cruel politeness
of civilized life, Djalma, endowed with a tact and fineness of perception
common to most natures of extreme susceptibility, felt some degree of
mental discomfort as he listened to this exchange of false compliments.
He could not guess their full meaning, but they sounded hollow to his
ear; and moreover, whether from instinct or presentiment, he had
conceived a vague dislike for the Princess de Saint-Dizier. That pious
lady, full of the great affair in hand, was a prey to the most violent
agitation, which betrayed itself in the growing color of her cheeks, her
bitter smile, and the malicious brightness of her glance. As he gazed on
this woman, Djalma was unable to conquer his rising antipathy, and he
remained silent and attentive, whilst his handsome countenance lost
something of its former serenity. Mother Bunch also felt the influence of
a painful impression. She glanced in terror at the princess, and then
imploringly at Adrienne, as though she entreated the latter to but an end
to an interview of which the young sempstress foresaw the fatal
consequences. But, unfortunately, the Princess de Saint-Dizier was too
much interested in prolonging this conversation; and Mdlle. de
Cardoville, gathering new courage and confidence from the presence of the
man she adored, took delight in vexing the princess with the exhibition
of their happy love.
After a short silence, the Princess de Saint-Dizier observed, in a soft
and insinuating tone: "Really, prince, you cannot think how pleased I was
to learn by public report (for people talk of nothing else, and with good
reason) of your chivalrous attachment to my dear niece; for, without
knowing it, you will extricate me from a difficult position."
Djalma made no answer, but he looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with a
surprised and almost sorrowful air, as if to ask what her aunt meant to
insinuate.
The latter, not perceiving this mute interrogation, resumed as follows:
"I will express myself more clearly, prince. You can understand that,
being the nearest relative of this dear, obstinate girl, I am more or
less responsible for her conduct in the eyes of the world; and you,
prince, seem just to have arrived on purpose, from the end of the earth,
to take charge of a destiny which had caused me considerable
apprehension. It is charming, it is excellent; and I know not which most
to admire, your courage or your good fortune." The princess threw a
glance of diabolical malice at Adrienne, and awaited her answer with an
air of defiance.
"Listen to our good aunt, my dear cousin," said the young lady, smiling
calmly. "Since our affectionate kinswoman sees you and me united and
happy, her heart is swelling with such a flood of joy, that it must run
over, and the effects will be delightful. Only have a little patience,
and you will behold them in their full beauty. I do not know," added
Adrienne, in the most natural tone, "why, in thinking of these
outpourings of our dear aunt's affection, I should remember what you told
me, cousin, of a certain viper in your country which sometimes, in a
powerless bite, breaks its fangs, and, absorbing its own venom, becomes
the victim of the poison it distills. Come, my dear aunt, you that had so
good and noble a heart, I am sure you must feel interested in the fate of
those poor vipers."
The princess darted an implacable look at her niece, and replied, in an
agitated voice, "I do not see the object of this selection of natural
history. Do you, prince?"
Djalma made no answer; leaning with his arm on the mantelpiece, he threw
dark and piercing glances upon the princess. His involuntary hatred of
this woman filled his heart.
"Ah, my dear aunt!" resumed Adrienne, in a tone of self-reproach; "have I
presumed too much on the goodness of your heart? Have you not even
sympathy for vipers? For whom, then, have you any? After all, I can very
well understand it," added Adrienne, as if to herself; "vipers are so
thin. But, to lay aside these follies," she continued, gayly, as she saw
the ill-repressed rage of the pious woman, "tell us at once, my dear
aunt, all the tender things which the sight of our happiness inspires."
"I hope to do so, my amiable niece. First, I must congratulate this dear
prince, on having come so far to take charge, in all confidence, and with
his eyes shut, of you, my poor child, whom we were obliged to confine as
mad, in order to give a decent color to your excesses. You remember the
handsome lad, that we found in your apartment. You cannot be so
faithless, as already to have forgotten his name? He was a fine, youth,
and a poet--one Agricola Baudoin--and was discovered in a secret place,
attached to your bed-chamber. All Paris was amused with the scandal--for
you are not about to marry an unknown person, dear prince; her name has
been in every mouth."
At these unexpected and dreadful words, Adrienne, Djalma, and Mother
Bunch, though under the influence of different kinds of resentment,
remained for a moment mute with surprise; and the princess, judging it no
longer necessary to repress her infernal joy and triumphant hatred,
exclaimed, as she rose from her seat, with flushed cheek, and flashing
eyes, "Yes, I defy you to contradict me. Were we not forced to confine
you, on the plea of madness? And did we not find a workman (your lover)
concealed in your bedroom?"
On this horrible accusation, Djalma's golden complexion, transparent as
amber, became suddenly the color of lead; his eyes, fixed and staring
showed the white round the pupil--his upper lip, red as blood, was curled
in a kind of wild convulsion, which exposed to view the firmly-set
teeth--and his whole countenance became so frightfully threatening and
ferocious, that Mother Bunch shuddered with terror. Carried away by the
ardor of his blood, the young Oriental felt a sort of dizzy,
unreflecting, involuntary rage--a fiery commotion, like that which makes
the blood leap to the brave man's eyes and brain, when he feels a blow
upon his face. If, during that moment, rapid as the passage of the
lightning through the cloud, action could have taken the place of
thought, the princess and Adrienne, Mother Bunch and himself, would all
have been annihilated by an explosion as sudden and fatal as that of the
bursting of a mine. He would have killed the princess, because she
accused Adrienne of infamous deception he would have killed Adrienne,
because she could even be suspected of such infamy--and Mother Bunch, for
being a witness of the accusation--and himself, in order not to survive
such horrid treachery. But, oh wonder! his furious and bloodshot gaze met
the calm look of Adrienne--a look so full of dignity and serene
confidence--and the expression of ferocious rage passed away like a flash
of lightning.
Much more: to the great surprise of the princess and the young workgirl,
as the glances which Djalma cast upon Adrienne went (as it were) deeper
into that pure soul, not only did the Indian grow calm, but, by a kind of
transfiguration, his countenance seemed to borrow her serene expression,
and reflect, as in a mirror, the noble serenity impressed on the young
lady's features. Let us explain physically this moral revolution, as
consoling to the terrified workgirl, as provoking to the princess. Hardly
had the princess distilled the atrocious calumny from her venomous lips,
than Djalma, then standing before the fireplace, had, in the first
paroxysm of his fury, advanced a step towards her; but, wishing as it
were to moderate his rage, he held by the marble chimney-piece, which he
grasped with iron strength. A convulsive trembling shook his whole body,
and his features, altered and contracted, became almost frightful.
Adrienne, on her part, when she heard the accusation, yielding to a first
impulse of just indignation, even as Djalma had yielded to one of blind
fury, rose abruptly, with offended pride flashing from her eyes; but,
almost immediately appeased by the consciousness of her own purity, her
charming face resumed its expression of adorable serenity. It was then
that her eyes met Djalma's. For a second, the young lady was even more
afflicted than terrified at the threatening and formidable expression of
the young Indian's countenance. "Can stupid indignity exasperate him to
this degree?" said Adrienne to herself. "Does he suspect me; then?"
But to this reflection, as rapid as it was painful, succeeded the most
lively joy, when the eyes of Adrienne rested for a short time on those of
the Indian, and she saw his agitated countenance grow calm as if by
magic, and become radiant and beautiful as before. Thus was the
abominable plot of the princess de Saint-Dizier utterly confounded by the
sincere and confiding expression of Adrienne's face. That was not all. At
the moment, when, as a spectator of this mute and expressive scene (which
proved so well the wondrous sympathy of those two beings, who, without
speaking a word, had understood and satisfied each other), the princess
was choking with rage and vexation--Adrienne, with a charming smile and
gesture, extended her fair hand to Djalma, who, kneeling, imprinted on it
a kiss of fire, which sent a light blush to the forehead of the young
lady.
Then the Hindoo, placing himself on the ermine carpet at the feet of
Mdlle. de Cardoville, in an attitude full of grace: and respect, rested
his chin on the palm of one of his hands, and gazed on her silently, in a
sort of mute adoration--while Adrienne, bending over him with a happy
smile "looked at the babies in his eyes," as the song says, with as much
amorous complacency, as if the hateful princess had not been present. But
soon, as if something were wanting to complete her happiness, Adrienne
beckoned to Mother Bunch, and made her sit down by her side. Then, with
her hand clasped in that of this excellent friend, Mdlle. de Cardoville
smiled on Djalma, stretched adoringly at her feet, and cast on the
dismayed princess a look of such calm and firm serenity, so nobly
expressive of the invincible quiet of her happiness, and her lofty
disdain of all calumnious attacks, that the Princess de Saint-Dizier,
confused and stupefied, murmured some hardly intelligible words, in a
voice trembling with passion, and, completely losing her presence of
mind, rushed towards the door. But, at this moment, the hunchback, who
feared some ambush, some perfidious plot in the background, resolved,
after exchanging a glance with Adrienne, to accompany the princess to her
carriage.
The angry disappointment of the Princess de Saint-Dizier, when she saw
herself thus followed and watched, appeared so comical to Mdlle. de
Cardoville that she could not help laughing aloud; and it was to the
sound of contemptuous hilarity that the hypocritical princess, with rage
and despair in her heart, quitted the house to which she had hoped to
bring trouble end misery. Adrienne and Djalma were left alone. Before
relating the scene which took place between them, a few retrospective
words are indispensable. It will easily be imagined, that since Mdlle. de
Cardoville and the Oriental had been brought into such close contact,
after so many disappointments, their days had passed away like a dream of
happiness. Adrienne had especially taken pains to bring to light, one by
one, all the generous qualities of Djalma, of which she had read so much
in her books of travels. The young lady had imposed on herself this
tender and patient study of Djalma's character, not only to justify to
her own mind the intensity of her love, but because this period of trial,
to which she had assigned a term, enabled her to temper and divert the
violence of Djalma's passion--a task the more meritorious, as she herself
was of the same ardent temperament. For, in those two lovers, the finest
qualities of sense and soul seemed exactly to balance each other, and
heaven had bestowed on them the rarest beauty of form, and the most
adorable excellence of heart, as if to legitimatize the irresistible
attraction which drew and bound them together. What, then, was to be the
term of this painful trial, which Adrienne had imposed on Djalma and on
herself? This is what Mdlle. de Cardoville intended to tell the prince,
in the interview she had with him, after the abrupt departure of the
Princess de Saint-Dizier.