I Meet With a Flattering Reception From My Patron--Madame D'Urfe's
Infatuation--Madame X. C. V. And Her Family--Madame du Rumain
During my journey from the Hague to Paris, short as it was, I had plenty
of opportunities for seeing that the mental qualities of my adopted son
were by no means equal to his physical ones.
As I had said, the chief point which his mother had impressed on him was
reserve, which she had instilled into him out of regard for her own
interests. My readers will understand what I mean, but the child, in
following his mother's instructions, had gone beyond the bounds of
moderation; he possessed reserve, it is true, but he was also full of
dissimulation, suspicion, and hypocrisy--a fine trio of deceit in one who
was still a boy. He not only concealed what he knew, but he pretended to
know that which he did not. His idea of the one quality necessary to
success in life was an impenetrable reserve, and to obtain this he had
accustomed himself to silence the dictates of his heart, and to say no
word that had not been carefully weighed. Giving other people wrong
impressions passed with him for discretion, and his soul being incapable
of a generous thought, he seemed likely to pass through life without
knowing what friendship meant.
Knowing that Madame d'Urfe counted on the boy for the accomplishment of
her absurd hypostasis, and that the more mystery I made of his birth the
more extravagant would be her fancies about it, I told the lad that if I
introduced him to a lady who questioned him by himself about his birth,
he was to be perfectly open with her.
On my arrival at Paris my first visit was to my patron, whom I found in
grand company amongst whom I recognized the Venetian ambassador, who
pretended not to know me.
"How long have you been in Paris?" said the minister, taking me by the
hand.
"I have only just stepped out of my chaise."
"Then go to Versailles. You will find the Duc de Choiseul and the
comptroller-general there. You have been wonderfully successful, go and
get your meed of praise and come and see me afterwards. Tell the duke
that Voltaire's appointment to be a gentleman-in-ordinary to the king is
ready."
I was not going to start for Versailles at midday, but ministers in Paris
are always talking in this style, as if Versailles were at the end of the
street. Instead of going there, I went to see Madame d'Urfe.
She received me with the words that her genius had informed her that I
should come to-day, and that she was delighted with the fulfilment of the
prophecy.
"Corneman tells me that you have been doing wonders in Holland; but I see
more in the matter than he does, as I am quite certain that you have
taken over the twenty millions yourself. The funds have risen, and a
hundred millions at least will be in circulation in the course of the
next week. You must not be offended at my shabby present, for, of course,
twelve thousand francs are nothing to you. You must look upon them as a
little token of friendship."
"I am going to tell my servants to close all the doors, for I am too glad
to see you not to want to have you all to myself."
A profound bow was the only reply I made to this flattering speech, and I
saw her tremble with joy when I told her that I had brought a lad of
twelve with me, whom I intended to place in the best school I could find
that he might have a good education.
"I will send him myself to Viar, where my nephews are. What is his name?
Where is he? I know well what this boy is, I long to see him. Why did
you not alight from your journey at my house?"
Her questions and replies followed one another in rapid succession. I
should have found it impossible to get in a word edgeways, even if I had
wanted to, but I was very glad to let her expend her enthusiasm, and took
good care not to interrupt her. On the first opportunity, I told her that
I should have the pleasure of presenting the young gentleman to her the
day after tomorrow, as on the morrow I had an engagement at Versailles.
"Does the dear lad speak French? While I am arranging for his going to
school you must really let him come and live with me."
"We will discuss that question on the day after tomorrow, madam."
"Oh, how I wish the day after to-morrow was here!"
On leaving Madame d'Urfe I went to my lottery office and found everything
in perfect order. I then went to the Italian play, and found Silvia and
her daughter in their dressing-room.
"My dear friend," said she when she saw me, "I know that you have
achieved a wonderful success in Holland, and I congratulate you."
I gave her an agreeable surprise by saying that I had been working for
her daughter, and Marion herself blushed, and lowered her eyes in a very
suggestive manner. "I will be with you at supper," I added, "and then we
can talk at our ease." On leaving them I went to the amphitheatre, and
what was my surprise to see in one of the first boxes Madame
X---- C---- V----, with all her family. My readers will be glad to hear
their history.
Madame X---- C---- V----, by birth a Greek, was the widow of an Englishman,
by whom she had six children, four of whom were girls. On his death-bed
he became a Catholic out of deference to the tears of his wife; but as
his children could not inherit his forty thousand pounds invested in
England, without conforming to the Church of England, the family returned
to London, where the widow complied with all the obligations of the law
of England. What will people not do when their interests are at stake!
though in a case like this there is no need to blame a person for
yielding, to prejudices which had the sanction of the law.
It was now the beginning of the year 1758, and five years before, when I
was at Padua, I fell in love with the eldest daughter, but a few months
after, when we were at Venice, Madame X. C. V. thought good to exclude me
from her family circle. The insult which the mother put upon me was
softened by the daughter, who wrote me a charming letter, which I love to
read even now. I may as well confess that my grief was the easier to bear
as my time was taken up by my fair nun, M---- M----, and my dear
C---- C----. Nevertheless, Mdlle. X. C. V., though only fifteen, was of a
perfect beauty, and was all the more charming in that to her physical
advantages she joined those of a cultured mind.
Count Algarotti, the King of Prussia's chamberlain, gave her lessons, and
several young nobles were among her suitors, her preference apparently
being given to the heir of the family of Memmo de St. Marcuola. He died a
year afterwards, while he was procurator.
My surprise at seeing this family at such a time and place may be
imagined. Mdlle. X. C. V. saw me directly, and pointed me out to her
mother, who made a sign to me with her fan to come to their box.
She received me in the friendliest manner possible, telling me that we
were not at Venice now, and that she hoped I would often come and see
them at the "Hotel de Bretagne," in the Rue St. Andre des Arts. I told
them that I did not wish to recall any events which might have happened
at Venice, and her daughter having joined her entreaties to those of her
mother, I promised to accept their invitation.
Mdlle. X. C. V. struck me as prettier than ever; and my love, after
sleeping for five years, awoke to fresh strength and vigour. They told me
that they were going to pass six months at Paris before returning to
Venice. In return I informed them that I intended making Paris my home,
that I had just left Holland, that I was going to Versailles the next
day, so that I could not pay my respects to them till the day after. I
also begged them to accept my services, in a manner which let them know I
was a person of some importance.
Mdlle. X. C. V. said that she was aware that the results of my Dutch
mission should render me dear to France, that she had always lived in
hopes of seeing me once more, that my famous flight from The Leads had
delighted them; "for," she added, "we have always been fond of you."
"I fancy your mother has kept her fondness for me very much to herself,"
I whispered to her.
"We won't say anything about that," said she in the same tone. "We learnt
all the circumstances of your wonderful flight from a letter of sixteen
pages you wrote to M. Memmo. We trembled with joy and shuddered with fear
as we read it."
"How did you know I have been in Holland?"
"M. de la Popeliniere told us about it yesterday."
M. de la Popeliniere, the fermier-general, whom I had known seven years
ago at Passi, came into the box just as his name was spoken. After
complimenting me he said that if I could carry through the same operation
for the India Company my fortune would be made.
"My advice to you is," he said, "to get yourself naturalized before it
becomes generally known that you have made half a million of money."
"Half a million! I only wish I had!"
"You must have made that at the lowest calculation."
"On the contrary, I give you my assurance, that if my claim for brokerage
is not allowed, the transaction will prove absolutely ruinous to me."
"Ah! no doubt you are right to take that tone. Meanwhile, everyone wants
to make your acquaintance, for France is deeply indebted to you. You have
caused the funds to recover in a very marked degree."
After the play was over I went to Silvia's, where I was received as if I
had been the favourite child of the family; but on the other hand I gave
them certain proofs that I wished to be regarded in that light. I was
impressed with the idea that to their unshaken friendship I owed all my
good luck, and I made the father, mother, the daughter, and the two sons,
receive the presents I had got for them. The best was for the mother, who
handed it on to her daughter. It was a pair of diamond ear-rings of great
beauty, for which I had given fifteen thousand francs. Three days after I
sent her a box containing fine linen from Holland, and choice Mechlin and
Alencon lace. Mario, who liked smoking, got a gold pipe; the father a
choice gold and enamelled snuff-box, and I gave a repeater to the younger
son, of whom I was very fond. I shall have occasion later on to speak of
this lad, whose natural qualities were far superior to his position in
life. But, you will ask, was I rich enough to make such presents? No, I
was not, and I knew it perfectly well; but I gave these presents because
I was afraid of not being able to do so if I waited.
I set out for Versailles at day-break, and M. de Choiseul received me as
before, his hair was being dressed, but for a moment he laid down his
pen, which shewed that I had become a person of greater importance in his
eyes. After a slight but grateful compliment, he told me that if I
thought myself capable of negotiating a loan of a hundred millions to
bear interest at four per cent., he would do all in his power to help me.
My answer was that I would think it over when I heard how much I was to
have for what I had done already.
"But everybody says that you have made two hundred thousand florins by
it."
"That would not be so bad; half a million of francs would be a fair
foundation on which to build a fortune; but I can assure your excellence
that there is not a word of truth in the report. I defy anyone to prove
it; and till some substantial proof is offered, I think I can lay claim
to brokerage."
"True, true. Go to the comptroller-general and state your views to him."
M. de Boulogne stopped the occupation on which he was engaged to give me
a most friendly greeting, but when I said that he owed me a hundred
thousand florins he smiled sardonically.
"I happen to know," he said, "that you have bills of exchange to the
amount of a hundred thousand crowns payable to yourself."
"Certainly, but that money has no connection with my mission, as I can
prove to you by referring you to M. d'Afri. I have in my head an
infallible project for increasing the revenue by twenty millions, in a
manner which will cause no irritation."
"You don't say so! Communicate your plan, and I promise to get you a
pension of a hundred thousand francs, and letters of nobility as well, if
you like to become a Frenchman."
"I will think it over."
On leaving M. de Boulogne I went to the Palace, where a ballet was going
on before the Marquise de Pompadour.
She bowed to me as soon as she saw me, and on my approaching her she told
me that I was an able financier, and that the "gentlemen below" could not
appreciate my merits. She had not forgotten what I had said to her eight
years before in the theatre at Fontainebleau. I replied that all good
gifts were from above, whither, with her help, I hoped to attain.
On my return to Paris I went to the "Hotel Bourbon" to inform my patron
of the result of my journey. His advice to me was to continue to serve
the Government well, as its good fortune would come to be mine. On my
telling him of my meeting with the X. C. V.'s, he said that M. de la
Popeliniere was going to marry the elder daughter.
When I got to my house my son was nowhere to be found. My landlady told
me that a great lady had come to call on my lord, and that she had taken
him away with her. Guessing that this was Madame d'Urfe, I went to bed
without troubling myself any further. Early next morning my clerk brought
me a letter. It came from the old attorney, uncle to Gaetan's wife, whom
I had helped to escape from the jealous fury of her brutal husband. The
attorney begged me to come and speak to him at the courts, or to make an
appointment at some place where he could see me. I went to the courts and
found him there.
"My niece," he began, "found herself obliged to go into a convent; and
from this vantage ground she is pleading against her husband, with the
aid of a barrister, who will be responsible for the costs. However, to
win our case, we require the evidence of yourself, Count Tiretta, and
other servants who witnessed the scene at the inn."
I did all I could, and four months afterwards Gaetan simplified matters
by a fraudulent bankruptcy, which obliged him to leave France: in due
time and place, I shall have something more to say about him. As for his
wife, who was young and pretty, she paid her counsel in love's money, and
was very happy with him, and may be happy still for all I know, but I
have entirely lost sight of her.
After my interview with the old attorney I went to Madame---- to see
Tiretta, who was out. Madame was still in love with him, and he continued
to make a virtue of necessity. I left my address, and went to the "Hotel
de Bretagne" to pay my first call on Madame X. C. V. The lady, though she
was not over fond of me, received me with great politeness. I possibly
cut a better figure in her eyes when rich, and at Paris, then when we
were in Venice. We all know that diamonds have the strange power of
fascination, and that they form an excellent substitute for virtue!
Madame X. C. V. had with her an old Greek named Zandiri, brother to M. de
Bragadin's major-domo, who was just dead. I uttered some expressions of
sympathy, and the boor did not take the trouble to answer me, but I was
avenged for his foolish stiffness by the enthusiasm with which I was
welcomed by everyone else. The eldest girl, her sisters, and the two
sons, almost overwhelmed me with friendliness. The eldest son was only
fourteen, and was a young fellow of charming manners, but evidently
extremely independent, and sighed for the time when he would be able to
devote himself to a career of profligacy for which he was well fitted.
Mdlle. X. C. V. was both beautiful and charming in her manner, and had
received an excellent education of which, however, she made no parade.
One could not stay in her presence without loving her, but she was no
flirt, and I soon saw that she held out no vain hopes to those who had
the misfortune not to please her. Without being rude she knew how to be
cold, and it was all the worse for those whom her coldness did not shew
that their quest was useless.
The first hour I passed in her company chained me a captive to her
triumphant car. I told her as much, and she replied that she was glad to
have such a captive. She took the place in my heart where Esther had
reigned a week before, but I freely confess that Esther yielded only
because she was away. As to my attachment to Sylvia's daughter, it was of
such a nature as not to hinder me falling in love with any other woman
who chanced to take my fancy. In the libertine's heart love cannot exist
without substantial food, and women who have had some experience of the
world are well aware of this fact. The youthful Baletti was a beginner,
and so knew nothing of these things.
M. Farsetti, a Venetian of noble birth, a knight of Malta, a great
student of the occult sciences, and a good Latin versifier, came in at
one o'clock. Dinner was just ready and Madame X. C. V. begged him to
stay. She asked me also to dine with them, but wishing to dine with
Madame d'Urfe I refused the invitation for the nonce.
M. Farsetti, who had known me very well at Venice, only noticed me by a
side-glance, and without shewing any vexation I paid him back in the same
coin. He smiled at Mdlle. X. C. V.'s praise of my courage. She noticed
his expression, and as if to punish him for it went on to say that I had
now the admiration of every Venetian, and that the French were anxious to
have the honour of calling me a fellow-citizen. M. Farsetti asked me if
my post at the lottery paid well. I replied, coolly,
"Oh, yes, well enough for me to pay my clerks' salaries."
He understood the drift of my reply, and Mdlle. X. C. V. smiled.
I found my supposed son with Madame d'Urfe, or rather in that amiable
visionary's arms. She hastened to apologize for carrying him off, and I
turned it off with a jest, having no other course to take.
"I made him sleep with me," she said, "but I shall be obliged to deprive
myself of this privilege for the future, unless he promises to be more
discreet."
I thought the idea a grand one, and the little fellow, in spite of his
blushes, begged her to say how he had offended.
"We shall have the Comte de St. Germain," said Madame d'Urfe, "to dinner.
I know he amuses you, and I like you to enjoy yourself in my house."
"For that, madam, your presence is all I need; nevertheless, I thank you
for considering me."
In due course St. Germain arrived, and in his usual manner sat himself
down, not to eat but to talk. With a face of imperturbable gravity he
told the most incredible stories, which one had to pretend to believe, as
he was always either the hero of the tale or an eye witness of the event.
All the same, I could not help bursting into laughter when he told us of
something that happened as he was dining with the Fathers of the Council
of Trent.
Madame d'Urfe wore on her neck a large magnet. She said that it would one
day happen that this magnet would attract the lightning, and that she
would consequently soar into the sun. I longed to tell her that when, she
got there she could be no higher up than on the earth, but I restrained
myself; and the great charlatan hastened to say that there could be no
doubt about it, and that he, and he only, could increase the force of the
magnet a thousand times. I said, dryly, that I would wager twenty
thousand crowns he would not so much as double its force, but Madame
d'Urfe would not let us bet, and after dinner she told me in private that
I should have lost, as St. Germain was a magician. Of course I agreed
with her.
A few days later, the magician set out for Chambord, where the king had
given him a suite of rooms and a hundred thousand francs, that he might
be at liberty to work on the dyes which were to assure the superiority of
French materials over those of any other country. St. Germain had got
over the king by arranging a laboratory where he occasionally tried to
amuse himself, though he knew little about chemistry, but the king was
the victim of an almost universal weariness. To enjoy a harem recruited
from amongst the most ravishing beauties, and often from the ranks of
neophytes, with whom pleasure had its difficulties, one would have needed
to be a god, and Louis XV. was only a man after all.
It was the famous marquise who had introduced the adept to the king in
the hope of his distracting the monarch's weariness, by giving him a
taste for chemistry. Indeed Madame de Pompadour was under the impression
that St. Germain had given her the water of perpetual youth, and
therefore felt obliged to make the chemist a good return. This wondrous
water, taken according to the charlatan's directions, could not indeed
make old age retire and give way to youth, but according to the marquise
it would preserve one in statu quo for several centuries.
As a matter of fact, the water, or the giver of it, had worked wonders,
if not on her body, at least on her mind; she assured the king that she
was not getting older. The king was as much deluded by this grand
impostor as she was, for one day he shewed the Duc des Deux-Ponts a
diamond of the first water, weighing twelve carats, which he fancied he
had made himself. "I melted down," said Louis XV., "small diamonds
weighing twenty-four carats, and obtained this one large one weighing
twelve." Thus it came to pass that the infatuated monarch gave the
impostor the suite formerly occupied by Marshal Saxe. The Duc des
Deux-Ponts told me this story with his own lips, one evening, when I was
supping with him and a Swede, the Comte de Levenhoop, at Metz.
Before I left Madame d'Urfe, I told her that the lad might be he who
should make her to be born again, but that she would spoil all if she did
not wait for him to attain the age of puberty. After what she had said
about his misbehavior, the reader will guess what made me say this. She
sent him to board with Viar, gave him masters on everything, and
disguised him under the name of the Comte d'Aranda, although he was born
at Bayreuth, and though his mother never had anything to do with a
Spaniard of that name. It was three or four months before I went to see
him, as I was afraid of being insulted on account of the name which the
visionary Madame d'Urfe had given him.
One day Tiretta came to see me in a fine coach. He told me that his
elderly mistress wanted to become his wife, but that he would not hear of
it, though she offered to endow him with all her worldly goods. I told
him that if he gave in he might pay his debts, return to Trevisa, and
live pleasantly there; but his destiny would not allow him to take my
advice.
I had resolved on taking a country house, and fixed on one called "Little
Poland," which pleased me better than all the others I had seen. It was
well furnished, and was a hundred paces distant from the Madeleine Gate.
It was situated on slightly elevated ground near the royal park, behind
the Duc de Grammont's garden, and its owner had given it the name of
"Pleasant Warsaw." It had two gardens, one of which was on a level with
the first floor, three reception rooms, large stables, coach houses,
baths, a good cellar, and a splendid kitchen. The master was called "The
Butter King," and always wrote himself down so; the name had been given
to him by Louis XV. on the monarch's stopping at the house and liking the
butter. The "Butter King" let me his house for a hundred Louis per annum,
and he gave me an excellent cook called "The Pearl," a true blue-ribbon
of the order of cooks, and to her he gave charge of all his furniture and
the plate I should want for a dinner of six persons, engaging to get me
as much plate as I wanted at the hire of a sous an ounce. He also
promised to let me have what wine I wanted, and said all he had was of
the best, and, moreover, cheaper than I could get it at Paris, as he had
no gate-money to pay on it.
Matters having been arranged on these terms, in the course of a week I
got a good coachman, two fine carriages, five horses, a groom, and two
footmen. Madame d'Urfe, who was my first guest, was delighted with my new
abode, and as she imagined that I had done it all for her, I left her in
that flattering opinion. I never could believe in the morality of
snatching from poor mortal man the delusions which make them happy. I
also let her retain the notion that young d'Aranda, the count of her own
making, was a scion of the nobility, that he was born for a mysterious
operation unknown to the rest of mankind, that I was only his caretaker
(here I spoke the truth), and that he must die and yet not cease to live.
All these whimsical ideas were the products of her brain, which was only
occupied with the impossible, and I thought the best thing I could do was
to agree with everything. If I had tried to undeceive her, she would have
accused me of want of trust in her, for she was convinced that all her
knowledge was revealed to her by her genius, who spoke to her only by
night. After she had dined with me I took her back to her house, full of
happiness.
Camille sent me a lottery ticket, which she had invested in at my office,
and which proved to be a winning one, I think, for a thousand crowns or
thereabouts. She asked me to come and sup with her, and bring the money
with me. I accepted her invitation, and found her surrounded by all the
girls she knew and their lovers. After supper I was asked to go to the
opera with them, but we had scarcely got there when I lost my party in
the crowd. I had no mask on, and I soon found myself attacked by a black
domino, whom I knew to be a woman, and as she told me a hundred truths
about myself in a falsetto voice, I was interested, and determined on
finding out who she was. At last I succeeded in persuading her to come
with me into a box, and as soon as we were in and I had taken off her
mask I was astonished to find she was Mdlle. X. C. V.
"I have come to the ball," said she, "with one of my sisters, my elder
brother, and M. Farsetti. I left them to go into a box and change my
domino:
"They must feel very uneasy."
"I dare say they do, but I am not going to take pity on them till the end
of the ball."
Finding myself alone with her, and certain of having her in my company
for the rest of the night, I began to talk of our old love-making; and I
took care to say that I was more in love with her than ever. She listened
to me kindly, did not oppose my embraces, and by the few obstacles she
placed in my way I judged that the happy moment was not far off.
Nevertheless I felt that I must practice restraint that evening, and she
let me see that she was obliged to me.
"I heard at Versailles, my dear mademoiselle, that you are going to marry
M. de la Popeliniere."
"So they say. My mother wishes me to do so, and the old financier fancies
he has got me in his talons already; but he makes a mistake, as I will
never consent to such a thing."
"He is old, but he is very rich."
"He is very rich and very generous, for he promises me a dowry of a
million if I become a widow without children; and if I had a son he would
leave me all his property."
"You wouldn't have much difficulty in complying with the second
alternative."
"I shall never have anything to do with his money, for I should never
make my life miserable by a marriage with a man whom I do not love, while
I do love another."
"Another! Who is the fortunate mortal to whom you have given your heart's
treasure?"
"I do not know if my loved one is fortunate. My lover is a Venetian, and
my mother knows of it; but she says that I should not be happy, that he
is not worthy of me."
"Your mother is a strange woman, always crossing your affections."
"I cannot be angry with her. She may possibly be wrong, but she certainly
loves me. She would rather that I should marry M. Farsetti, who would be
very glad to have me, but I detest him."
"Has he made a declaration in terms?"
"He has, and all the marks of contempt I have given him seem to have no
effect."
"He clings hard to hope; but the truth is you have fascinated him."
"Possibly, but I do not think him susceptible of any tender or generous
feeling. He is a visionary; surly, jealous, and envious in his
disposition. When he heard me expressing myself about you in the manner
you deserve, he had the impudence to say to my mother before my face that
she ought not to receive you."
"He deserves that I should give him a lesson in manners, but there are
other ways in which he may be punished. I shall be delighted to serve you
in any way I can."
"Alas! if I could only count on your friendship I should be happy."
The sigh with which she uttered these words sent fire through my veins,
and I told her that I was her devoted slave; that I had fifty thousand
crowns which were at her service, and that I would risk my life to win
her favours. She replied that she was truly grateful to me, and as she
threw her arms about my neck our lips met, but I saw that she was
weeping, so I took care that the fire which her kisses raised should be
kept within bounds. She begged me to come and see her often, promising
that as often as she could manage it we should be alone. I could ask no
more, and after I had promised to come and dine with them on the morrow,
we parted.
I passed an hour in walking behind her, enjoying my new position of
intimate friend, and I then returned to my Little Poland. It was a short
distance, for though I lived in the country I could get to any part of
Paris in a quarter of an hour. I had a clever coachman, and capital
horses not used to being spared. I got them from the royal stables, and
as soon as I lost one I got another from the same place, having to pay
two hundred francs. This happened to me several times, for, to my mind,
going fast is one of the greatest pleasures which Paris offers.
Having accepted an invitation to dinner at the X. C. V.'s, I did not give
myself much time for sleep, and I went out on foot with a cloak on. The
snow was falling in large flakes, and when I got to madame's I was as
white as a sheet from head to foot. She gave me a hearty welcome,
laughing, and saying that her daughter had been telling her how she had
puzzled me, and that she was delighted to see me come to dinner without
ceremony. "But," added she, "it's Friday today, and you will have to
fast, though, after all, the fish is very good. Dinner is not ready yet.
You had better go and see my daughter, who is still a-bed."
As may be imagined, this invitation had not to be repeated, for a pretty
woman looks better in bed than anywhere else. I found Mdlle. X. C. V.
sitting up in bed writing, but she stopped as soon as she saw me.
"How is this, sweet lie-a-bed, not up yet?"
"Yes, I am staying in bed partly because I feel lazy, and partly because
I am freer here."
"I was afraid you were not quite well."
"Nor am I. However, we will say no more about that now. I am just going
to take some soup, as those who foolishly establish the institution of
fasting were not polite enough to ask my opinion on the subject. It does
not agree with my health, and I don't like it, so I am not going to get
up even to sit at table, though I shall thus deprive myself of your
society."
I naturally told her that in her absence dinner would have no savour; and
I spoke the truth.
As the presence of her sister did not disturb us, she took out of her
pocket-book an epistle in verse which I had addressed to her when her
mother had forbidden me the house. "This fatal letter," said she, "which
you called 'The Phoenix,' has shaped my life and may prove the cause of
my death."
I had called it the Phoenix because, after bewailing my unhappy lot, I
proceeded to predict how she would afterwards give her heart to a mortal
whose qualities would make him deserve the name of Phoenix. A hundred
lines were taken up in the description of these imaginary mental and
moral characteristics, and certainly the being who should have them all
would be right worthy of worship, for he would be rather a god than a
man.
"Alas!" said Mdlle. X. C. V., "I fell in love with this imaginary being,
and feeling certain that such an one must exist I set myself to look for
him. After six months I thought I had found him. I gave him my heart, I
received his, we loved each other fondly. But for the last four months we
have been separated, and during the whole time I have only had one letter
from him. Yet I must not blame him, for I know he cannot help it. Such,
is my sorry fate: I can neither hear from him nor write to him:"
This story was a confirmation of a theory of mine namely, that the most
important events in our lives proceed often from the most trifling
causes. My epistle was nothing better than a number of lines of poetry
more or less well written, and the being I had delineated was certainly
not to be found, as he surpassed by far all human perfections, but a
woman's heart travels so quickly and so far! Mdlle. X. C. V. took the
thing literally, and fell in love with a chimera of goodness, and then
was fain to turn this into a real lover, not thinking of the vast
difference between the ideal and the real. For all that, when she thought
that she had found the original of my fancy portrait, she had no
difficulty in endowing him with all the good qualities I had pictured. Of
course Mdlle. X. C. V. would have fallen in love if I had never written
her a letter in verse, but she would have done so in a different manner,
and probably with different results.
As soon as dinner was served we were summoned to do justice to the choice
fish which M. de la Popeliniere had provided. Madame X. C. V. a
narrowminded Greek, was naturally bigoted and superstitious. In the mind
of a silly woman the idea of an alliance between the most opposite of
beings, God and the Devil, seems quite natural. A priest had told her
that, since she had converted her husband, her salvation was secure, for
the Scriptures solemnly promised a soul for a soul to every one who would
lead a heretic or a heathen within the fold of the church. And as Madame
X. C. V. had converted her husband, she felt no anxiety about the life of
the world to come, as she had done all that was necessary. However, she
ate fish on the days appointed; the reason being that she preferred it to
flesh.
Dinner over, I returned to the lady's bedside, and there stayed till
nearly nine o'clock, keeping my passions well under control all the time.
I was foppish enough to think that her feelings were as lively as mine,
and I did not care to shew myself less self-restrained than she, though I
knew then, as I know now, that this was a false line of argument. It is
the same with opportunity as with fortune; one must seize them when they
come to us, or else they go by, often to return no more.
Not seeing Farsetti at the table, I suspected there had been a quarrel,
and I asked my sweetheart about it; but she told me I was mistaken in
supposing they had quarreled with him, and that the reason of his absence
was that he would never leave his house on a Friday. The deluded man had
had his horoscope drawn, and learning by it that he would be assassinated
on a Friday he resolved always to shut himself up on that day. He was
laughed at, but persisted in the same course till he died four years ago
at the age of seventy. He thought to prove by the success of his
precautions that a man's destiny depends on his discretion, and on the
precautions he takes to avoid the misfortunes of which he has had
warning. The line of argument holds good in all cases except when the
misfortunes are predicted in a horoscope; for either the ills predicted
are avoidable, in which case the horoscope is a useless piece of folly,
or else the horoscope is the interpreter of destiny, in which case all
the precautions in the world are of no avail. The Chevalier Farsetti was
therefore a fool to imagine he had proved anything at all. He would have
proved a good deal for many people if he had gone out on a Friday, and
had chanced to have been assassinated. Picas de la Mirandola, who
believed in astrology, says, "I have no doubt truly, 'Astra influunt, non
cogunt.'" But would it have been a real proof of the truth of astrology,
if Farsetti had been assassinated on a Friday? In my opinion, certainly
not.
The Comte d'Eigreville had introduced me to his sister, the Comtesse du
Remain, who had been wanting to make my acquaintance ever since she had
heard of my oracle. It was not long before I made friends with her
husband and her two daughters, the elder of whom, nicknamed "Cotenfau,"
married M. de Polignac later on. Madame du Remain was handsome rather
than pretty, but she won the love of all by her kindness, her frank
courtesy, and her eagerness to be of service to her friends. She had a
magnificent figure, and would have awed the whole bench of judges if she
had pleaded before them.
At her house I got to know Mesdames de Valbelle and de Rancerolles, the
Princess de Chimai, and many others who were then in the best society of
Paris. Although Madame du Remain was not a proficient in the occult
sciences, she had nevertheless consulted my oracle more frequently than
Madame d'Urfe. She was of the utmost service to me in connection with an
unhappy circumstance of which I shall speak presently.
The day after my long conversation with Mdlle. X. C. V., my servant told
me that there was a young man waiting who wanted to give me a letter with
his own hands. I had him in, and on my asking him from whom the letter
came, he replied that I should find all particulars in the letter, and
that he had orders to wait for an answer. The epistle ran as follows:
"I am writing this at two o'clock in the morning. I am weary and in need
of rest, but a burden on my soul deprives me of sleep. The secret I am
about to tell you will no longer be so grievous when I have confided in
you; I shall feel eased by placing it in your breast. I am with child,
and my situation drives me to despair. I was obliged to write to you
because I felt I could not say it. Give me a word in reply."
My feelings on reading the above may be guessed. I was petrified with
astonishment and could only write, "I will be with you at eleven
o'clock."
No one should say that he has passed through great misfortunes unless
they have proved too great for his mind to bear. The confidence of Mdlle.
X. C. V. shewed me that she was in need of support. I congratulated
myself on having the preference, and I vowed to do my best for her did it
cost me my life. These were the thoughts of a lover, but for all that I
could not conceal from myself the imprudence of the step she had taken.
In such cases as these there is always the choice between speaking or
writing, and the only feeling which can give the preference to writing is
false shame, at bottom mere cowardice. If I had not been in love with
her, I should have found it easier to have refused my aid in writing than
if she had spoken to me, but I loved her to distraction.
"Yes," said I to myself, "she can count on me. Her mishap makes her all
the dearer to me."
And below this there was another voice, a voice which whispered to me
that if I succeeded in saving her my reward was sure. I am well aware
that more than one grave moralist will fling stones at me for this
avowal, but my answer is that such men cannot be in love as I was.
I was punctual to my appointment, and found the fair unfortunate at the
door of the hotel.
"You are going out, are you? Where are you going?"
"I am going to mass at the Church of the Augustinians."
"Is this a saint's day?"
"No; but my mother makes me go every day."
"I will come with you."
"Yes do, give me your arm; we will go into the cloisters and talk there."
Mdlle. X. C. V. was accompanied by her maid, but she knew better than to
be in the way, so we left her in the cloisters. As soon as we were alone
she said to me,
"Have you read my letter?"
"Yes, of course; here it is, burn it yourself."
"No, keep it, and do so with your own hands."
"I see you trust in me, and I assure you I will not abuse your trust."
"I am sure you will not. I am four months with child; I can doubt it no
longer, and the thought maddens me!"
"Comfort yourself, we will find some way to get over it."
"Yes; I leave all to you. You must procure an abortion."
"Never, dearest! that is a crime!"
"Alas! I know that well; but it is not a greater crime than suicide, and
there lies my choice: either to destroy the wretched witness of my shame,
or to poison myself. For the latter alternative I have everything ready.
You are my only friend, and it is for you to decide which it shall be.
Speak to me! Are you angry that I have not gone to the Chevalier Farsetti
before you?"
She saw my astonishment, and stopped short, and tried to wipe away the
tears which escaped from her eyes. My heart bled for her.
"Laying the question of crime on one side," said I, "abortion is out of
our power. If the means employed are not violent they are uncertain, and
if they are violent they are dangerous to the mother. I will never risk
becoming your executioner; but reckon on me, I will not forsake you. Your
honour is as dear to me as your life. Becalm, and henceforth think that
the peril is mine, not yours. Make up your mind that I shall find some
way of escape, and that there will be no need to cut short that life, to
preserve which I would gladly die. And allow me to say that when I read
your note I felt glad, I could not help it, that at such an emergency you
chose me before all others to be your helper. You will find that your
trust was not given in vain, for no one loves you as well as I, and no
one is so fain to help you. Later you shall begin to take the remedies I
will get for you, but I warn you to be on your guard, for this is a
serious matter--one of life and death. Possibly you have already told
somebody about it--your maid or one of your sisters?"
"I have not told anybody but you, not even the author of my shame. I
tremble when I think what my mother would do and say if she found out my
situation. I am afraid she will draw her conclusions from my shape."
"So far there is nothing to be observed in that direction, the beauty of
the outline still remains intact."
"But every day increases its size, and for that reason we must be quick
in what we do. You must find a surgeon who does not know my name and take
me to him to be bled."
"I will not run the risk, it might lead to the discovery of the whole
affair. I will bleed you myself; it is a simple operation."
"How grateful I am to you! I feel as if you had already brought me from
death to life. What I should like you to do would be to take me to a
midwife's. We can easily go without attracting any notice at the first
ball at the opera."
"Yes, sweetheart, but that step is not necessary, and it might lead to
our betrayal."
"No, no, in this great town there are midwives in every quarter, and we
should never be known; we might keep our masks on all the time. Do me
this kindness. A midwife's opinion is certainly worth having."
I could not refuse her request, but I made her agree to wait till the
last ball, as the crowd was always greater, and we had a better chance of
going out free from observation. I promised to be there in a black domino
with a white mask in the Venetian fashion, and a rose painted beside the
left eye. As soon as she saw me go out she was to follow me into a
carriage. All this was carried out, but more of it anon.
I returned with her, and dined with them without taking any notice of
Farsetti, who was also at the table, and had seen me come back from mass
with her. We did not speak a word to one another; he did not like me and
I despised him.
I must here relate a grievous mistake of which I was guilty, and which I
have not yet forgiven myself.
I had promised to take Mdlle. X. C. V. to a midwife, but I certainly
ought to have taken her to a respectable woman's, for all we wanted to
know was how a pregnant woman should regulate her diet and manner of
living. But my evil genius took me by the Rue St. Louis, and there I saw
the Montigni entering her house with a pretty girl whom I did not know,
and so out of curiosity I went in after them. After amusing myself there,
with Mdlle. X. C. V. running in my head all the time, I asked the woman
to give me the address of a midwife, as I wanted to consult one. She told
me of a house in the Marais, where according to her dwelt the pearl of
midwives, and began telling me some stories of her exploits, which all
went to prove that the woman was an infamous character. I took her
address, however, and as I should have to go there by night, I went the
next day to see where the house was.
Mdlle. X. C. V. began to take the remedies which I brought her, which
ought to have weakened and destroyed the result of love, but as she did
not experience any benefit, she was impatient to consult a midwife. On
the night of the last ball she recognized me as we had agreed, and
followed me out into the coach she saw me enter, and in less than a
quarter of an hour we reached the house of shame.
A woman of about fifty received us with great politeness, and asked what
she could do.
Mdlle. X. C. V. told her that she believed herself pregnant, and that she
desired some means of concealing her misfortune. The wretch answered with
a smile that she might as well tell her plainly that it would be easy to
procure abortion. "I will do your business," said she, "for fifty Louis,
half to be paid in advance on account of drugs, and the rest when it's
all over. I will trust in your honesty, and you will have to trust in
mine. Give me the twenty-five Louis down, and come or send to-morrow for
the drugs, and instructions for using them."
So saying she turned up her clothes without any ceremony, and as I, at
Mdlle. X. C. V.'s request, looked away, she felt her and pronounced, as
she let down her dress, that she was not beyond the fourth month.
"If my drugs," said she, "contrary to my expectation, do not do any good,
we will try some other ways, and, in any case, if I do not succeed in
obliging you I will return you your money."
"I don't doubt it for a moment," said I, "but would you tell me what are
those other ways!"
"I should tell the lady how to destroy the foetus."
I might have told her that to kill the child meant giving a mortal wound
to the mother, but I did not feel inclined to enter into a argument with
this vile creature.
"If madame decides on taking your advice," said I, "I will bring you the
money for drugs to-morrow."
I gave her two Louis and left. Mdlle. X. C. V. told me that she had no
doubt of the infamy of this woman, as she was sure it was impossible to
destroy the offspring without the risk of killing the mother also. "My
only trust," said she, "is in you." I encouraged her in this idea,
dissuading her from any criminal attempts, and assured her over and over
again that she should not find her trust in me misplaced. All at once she
complained of feeling cold, and asked if we had not time to warm
ourselves in Little Poland, saying that she longed to see my pretty
house. I was surprised and delighted with the idea. The night was too
dark for her to see the exterior charms of my abode, she would have to
satisfy herself with the inside, and leave the rest to her imagination. I
thought my hour had come. I made the coach stop and we got down and
walked some way, and then took another at the corner of the Rue de la
Ferannerie. I promised the coachman six francs beyond his fare, and in a
quarter of an hour he put us down at my door.
I rang with the touch of the master, the Pearl opened the door, and told
me that there was nobody within, as I very well knew, but it was her
habit to do so.
"Quick!" said I, "light us a fire, and bring some glasses and a bottle of
champagne."
"Would you like an omelette?"
"Very well."
"Oh, I should like an omelette so much!" said Mdlle. X. C. V. She was
ravishing, and her laughing air seemed to promise me a moment of bliss. I
sat down before the blazing fire and made her sit on my knee, covering
her with kisses which she gave me back as lovingly. I had almost won what
I wanted when she asked me in a sweet voice to stop. I obeyed, thinking
it would please her, feeling sure that she only delayed my victory to
make it more complete, and that she would surrender after the champagne.
I saw love, kindness, trust, and gratitude shining in her face, and I
should have been sorry for her to think that I claimed her as a mere
reward. No, I wanted her love, and nothing but her love.
At last we got to our last glass of champagne, we rose from the table,
and sentimentally but with gentle force I laid her on a couch and held
her amorously in my arms. But instead of giving herself up to my embraces
she resisted them, at first by those prayers which usually make lovers
more enterprising, then by serious remonstrances, and at last by force.
This was too much, the mere idea of using violence has always shocked me,
and I am still of opinion that the only pleasure in the amorous embrace
springs from perfect union and agreement. I pleaded my cause in every
way, I painted myself as the lover flattered, deceived, despised! At last
I told her that I had had a cruel awakening, and I saw that the shaft
went home. I fell on my knees and begged her to forgive me. "Alas!" said
she, in a voice full of sadness, "I am no longer mistress of my heart,
and have far greater cause for grief than you." The tears flowed fast
down her cheeks, her head rested on my shoulder, and our lips met; but
for all that the piece was over. The idea of renewing the attack never
came into my head, and if it had I should have scornfully rejected it.
After a long silence, of which we both stood in need, she to conquer her
shame, and I to repress my anger, we put on our masks and returned to the
opera. On our way she dared to tell me that she should be obliged to
decline my friendship if she had to pay for it so dearly.
"The emotions of love," I replied, "should yield to those of honour, and
your honour as well as mine require us to continue friends. What I would
have done for love I will now do for devoted friendship, and for the
future I will die rather than make another attempt to gain those favours
of which I thought you deemed me worthy."
We separated at the opera, and the vast crowd made me lose sight of her
in an instant. Next day she told me that she had danced all night. She
possibly hoped to find in that exercise the cure which no medicine seemed
likely to give her.
I returned to my house in a bad humour, trying in vain to justify a
refusal which seemed humiliating and almost incredible. My good sense
shewed me, in spite of all sophisms, that I had been grievously insulted.
I recollected the witty saying of Populia, who was never unfaithful to
her husband except when she was with child; "Non tollo vectorem," said
she, "nisi navi plena."
I felt certain that I was not loved, and the thought grieved me; and I
considered that it would be unworthy of me to love one whom I could no
longer hope to possess. I resolved to avenge myself by leaving her to her
fate, feeling that I could not allow myself to be duped as I had been.
The night brought wisdom with it, and when I awoke in the morning my mind
was calm and I was still in love. I determined to act generously by the
unfortunate girl. Without my aid she would be ruined; my course, then,
would be to continue my services and to shew myself indifferent to her
favours. The part was no easy one, but I played it right well, and at
last my reward came of itself.