THE ORDEAL.
Adrienne de Cardoville and Djalma had remained alone. Such was the noble
confidence which had succeeded in the Hindoo's mind to his first movement
of unreflecting fury, caused by the infamous calumny, that, once alone
with Adrienne, he did not even allude to that shameful accusation.
On her side (touching and admirable sympathy of those two hearts!), the
young lady was too proud, conscious of the purity of her love, to descend
to any justification of herself.
She would have considered it an insult both to herself and him.
Therefore, the lovers began their interview, as if the princess had never
made any such remark. The same contempt was extended to the papers, which
the princess had brought with her to prove the imminent ruin to which
Adrienne was exposed. The young lady had laid them down, without reading
them, on a stand within her reach. She made a graceful sign to Djalma to
seat himself by her side, and accordingly he quitted, not without regret,
the place he had occupied at her feet.
"My love," said Adrienne, in a grave and tender voice, "you have often
impatiently asked me, when would come the term of the trial we have laid
upon ourselves. That moment is at hand."
Djalma started, and could not restrain a cry of surprise and joy; but
this almost trembling exclamation was so soft and sweet, that it seemed
rather the expression of ineffable gratitude, than of exulting passion.
Adrienne continued: "Separated--surrounded by treachery and
fraud--mutually deceived as to each other's sentiments--we yet loved on,
and in that followed an irresistible attraction, stronger than every
opposing influence. But since then, in these days of happy retirement
from the world, we have learned to value and esteem each other more. Left
to ourselves in perfect freedom, we have had the courage to resist every
temptation, that hereafter we might be happy without remorse. During
these days, in which our hearts had been laid open to each other, we have
read them thoroughly. Yes, Djalma! I believe in you, and you in me--I
find in you all that you find in me--every possible human security for
our future happiness. But this love must yet be consecrated; and in the
eyes of the world, in which we are called upon to live, marriage is the
only consecration, and marriage enchains one's whole life."
Djalma looked at the young lady with surprise.
"Yes, one's whole life! and yet who can answer for the sentiments of a
whole life?" resumed Adrienne. "A God, that could see into the future,
could alone bind irrevocably certain hearts for their own happiness; but,
alas! to human eyes the future is impenetrable. Therefore, to accept
indissoluble ties, for any longer than one can answer for a present
sentiment, is to commit an act of selfish and impious folly."
Djalma made no reply, but, with an almost respectful gesture, he urged
the speaker to continue.
"And then," proceeded she, with a mixture of tenderness and pride, "from
respect for your dignity and mine, I would never promise to keep a law
made by man against woman, with contemptuous and brutal egotism--a law,
which denies to woman soul, mind, and heart--a law, which none can
accept, without being either a slave or perjured--a law, which takes from
the girl her name, reduces the wife to a state of degrading inferiority,
denies to the mother all rights over her own children, and enslaves one
human creature to the will of another, who is in all respects her equal
in the sight of God!--You know, my love," added the young lady, with
passionate enthusiasm, "how much I honor you, whose father was called the
Father of the Generous. I do not then fear, noble and valiant heart, to
see you use against me these tyrannical powers; but, throughout my life,
I never uttered a falsehood, and our love is too sacred and celestial to
be purchased by a double perjury. No, never will I swear to observe a
law, that my dignity, and my reason refuse to sanction. If, to-morrow,
the freedom of divorce were established, and the rights of women
recognized, I should be willing to observe usages, which would then be in
accordance with my conscience, and with what is just, possible, and
humane." Then, after a pause, Adrienne continued, with such deep and
sweet emotion, that a tear of tenderness veiled her beauteous eyes: "Oh!
if you knew, my love, what your love is to me: if you knew how dear and
sacred I hold your happiness--you would excuse, you would understand,
these generous superstitions of a loving and honest heart, which could
only see a fatal omen in forms degraded by falsehood and perjury. What I
wish, is, to attach you by love, to bind you in chains of happiness--and
to leave you free, that I may owe your constancy only to your affection."
Djalma had listened to the young girl with passionate attention. Proud
and generous himself, he admired this proud and generous character. After
a moment's meditative silence, he answered, in his sweet, sonorous voice,
in an almost solemn tone: "Like you, I hold in detestation, falsehood and
perjury. Like you, I think that man degrades himself, by accepting the
right of being a cowardly tyrant, even though resolved never to use the
power. Like you, I could not bear the thought, that I owed all I most
valued, not to your love alone, but to the eternal constraint of an
indissoluble bond. Like you, I believe there is no dignity but in
freedom. But you have said, that, for this great and holy love, you
demand a religious consecration; and if you reject vows, that you cannot
make without folly and perjury, are there then others, which your reason
and your heart approve?--Who will pronounce the required blessing? To
whom must these vows be spoken?"
"In a few days, my love, I believe I shall be able to tell you all. Every
evening, after your departure, I have no other thought. I wish to find
the means of uniting yourself and me--in the eyes of God, not of the
law--without offending the habits and prejudices of a world, in which it
may suit us hereafter to live. Yes, my friend! when you know whose are
the noble hands, that are to join ours together, who is to bless and
glorify God in our union--a sacred union, that will leave us worthy and
free--you will say, I am sure, that never purer hands could have been
laid upon us. Forgive me, friend! all this is in earnest--yes, earnest as
our love, earnest as our happiness. If my words seem to you strange, my
thoughts unreasonable, tell it me, love! We will seek and find some
better means, to reconcile that we owe to heaven, with what we owe to the
world and to ourselves. It is said, that lovers are beside themselves,"
added the young lady, with a smile, "but I think that no creatures are
more reasonable."
"When I hear you speak thus of our happiness," said Djalma, deeply moved,
"with so much calm and earnest tenderness, I think I see a mother
occupied with the future prospects of her darling child--trying to
surround him with all that can make him strong, valiant, and
generous--trying to remove far from him all that is ignoble and unworthy.
You ask me to tell you if your thoughts seem strange to me, Adrienne. You
forget, that what makes my faith in our love, is my feeling exactly as
you do. What offends you, offends me also; what disgusts you, disgusts
me. Just now, when you cited to me the laws of this country, which
respect in a woman not even a mother's right--I thought with pride of our
barbarous countries, where woman, though a slave, is made free when she
becomes a mother. No, no; such laws are not made either for you or me. Is
it not to prove your sacred respect for our love, to wish to raise it
above the shameful servitude that would degrade it? You see, Adrienne, I
have often heard said by the priests of my country, that there were
beings inferior to the gods, but superior to every other creature. I did
not believe those priests; but now I do." These last words were uttered,
not in the tone of flattery, but with an accent of sincere conviction,
and with that sort of passionate veneration and almost timid fervor,
which mark the believer talking of his faith; but what is impossible to
describe, is the ineffable harmony of these almost religious words, with
the mild, deep tone of the young Oriental's voice--as well as the ardent
expression of amorous melancholy, which gave an irresistible charm to his
enchanting features.
Adrienne had listened to Djalma with an indescribable mixture of joy,
gratitude, and pride. Laying her hand on her bosom, as if to keep down
its violent pulsations, she resumed, as she looked at the prince with
delight: "Behold him, ever the same!--just, good, great!--Oh, my heart!
my heart! how proudly it beats. Blessed be God, who created me for this
adored lover! He must mean to astonish the world, by the prodigies of
tenderness and charity, that such a love may produce. They do not yet
know the sovereign might of free, happy, ardent love. Yes, Djalma! on the
day when our hands are joined together, what hymns of gratitude will
ascend to heaven!--Ah! they do not know the immense, the insatiable
longing for joy aria delight, which possesses two hearts like ours; they
do not know what rays of happiness stream from the celestial halo of such
a flame!--Oh, yes! I feel it. Many tears will be dried, many cold hearts
warmed, at the divine fire of our love. And it will be by the
benedictions of those we serve, that they will learn the intoxication of
our rapture!"
To the dazzled eyes of Djalma, Adrienne appeared more and more an ideal
being--partaking of the Divinity by her goodness, of the animal nature by
passion--for, yielding to the intensity of excitement, Adrienne fixed
upon Djalma looks that sparkled with love.
'Then, almost beside himself, the Asiatic fell prostrate at the feet of
the maiden, and exclaimed, in a supplicating voice: "Mercy! my courage
fails me. Have pity on me! do not talk thus. Oh, that day! what years of
my life would I not give to hasten it!"
"Silence! no blasphemy. Do not your years belong to me?"
"Adrienne! you love me!"
The young lady did not answer; but her half-veiled, burning glance, dealt
the last blow to reason. Seizing her hands in his own, he exclaimed, with
a tremulous voice: "That day, in which we shall mount to heaven, in which
we shall be gods in happiness--why postpone it any longer?"
"Because our love must be consecrated by the benediction of heaven."
"Are we not free?"
"Yes, yes, my love; we are free. Let us be worthy of our liberty!"
"Adrienne! mercy!"
"I ask you also to have mercy--to have mercy on the sacredness of our
love. Do not profane it in its very flower. Believe my heart! believe my
presentiments! to profane it would be to kill. Courage, my adored lover!
a few days longer--and then happiness--without regret, and without
remorse!"
"And, until then, hell! tortures without a name! You do not, cannot know
what I suffer when I leave your presence. Your image follows me, your
breath burns me up; I cannot sleep, but call on you every night with
sighs and tears--just as I called on, you, when I thought you did not
love me--and yet I know you love me, I know you are mine. But to see you
every day more beautiful, more adored--and every day to quit you more
impassioned--oh! you cannot tell--"
Djalma was unable to proceed. What he said of his devouring tortures,
Adrienne had felt, perhaps even more intensely. Electrified by the
passionate words of Djalma, so beautiful in his excitement, her courage
failed, and she perceived that an irresistible languor was creeping over
her. By a last chaste effort of the will, she rose abruptly, and
hastening to the door, which communicated with Mother Bunch's chamber,
she exclaimed: "My sister! help me!"
In another moment, Mdlle. de Cardoville, her face bathed in tears,
clasped the young sempstress in her arms; while Djalma knelt respectfully
on the threshold he did not dare to pass.