The calm continued for nearly a month; and though an occasional fit of
gloom would fall upon Monsieur de Villardin, it disappeared on every
occasion ere it had lasted many hours. So much, indeed, did the
harmony of the family now seem restored, that Father Ferdinand,
although he had agreed to fix his residence permanently in the house
of his friend, took advantage of the tranquillity which he had so
greatly tended to re-establish, in order to visit Rennes, and arrange
his affairs in that city before he finally settled at Dumont.
The situation of Madame de Villardin, and her appearance, became every
day more interesting; and although I could at times see a shade come
over the countenance of her husband while, as he gazed upon her, some
unworthy suspicion crossed his mind, yet, in general, he seemed to
regard her with that increased tenderness and interest which every man
must, or ought to feel towards a being they love, under such
circumstances. The medical attendants of the Duchess had strongly
enjoined her to take as much exercise on foot as possible; and,
followed by a servant carrying a small garden seat, she continued her
walks through the park, resting whenever she found herself tired, and
proceeding again when she felt able. In many of these walks the Duke
himself accompanied her, and still more frequently joined her at one
of her halting places. All this bespoke renewed affection and
confidence; and I too certainly hoped and believed that the demon
which had caused so much unhappiness in our household was quelled for
ever. Such was the state of affairs when one day, by the Duke's
desire, I set out to visit Avranches and St. Malo, the latter of which
places I had a strong desire to see. My little tour lasted four days;
but nothing of any interest occurred in its course, except an
accidental interview which I had at St. Malo with an acquaintance I
certainly did not expect to see so soon again and in such a place.
After having visited the port, and perambulated such of the
fortifications as I was permitted to see, I retired to the house of
one of those aubergistes, whose hospitable dwellings are ever ready to
receive the money of successful captains just returned from the sea;
and there, sitting down in the general receptacle of guests, I ordered
my dinner, which was set before me by the servants with all the
promptitude of men accustomed to deal with a hungry and impatient
race.
Scarcely had I begun to eat, when a gaily-dressed personage entered,
and placing himself nearly opposite to me, ordered his dinner also, in
a tone of authority which was answered with due respect by the garçon,
with, "Yes, captain--not a moment, captain--directly, captain." This
new guest was a strong, square-built man, with a face that any one
would have unscrupulously pronounced a frank, open countenance; but as
soon as my eyes rested upon it--although his whole garb and appearance
was perfectly naval--yet I thought that I had seen him filling the
office of captain in the land service rather than the marine. He
caught me gazing at him, and, as he did so, a slight frown curled his
brow; but as I did not usually respect frowns particularly, I only
smiled in return, and proceeded tranquilly to the discussion of my
dinner. Before I had proceeded far, however, my acquaintance seemed to
have made up his mind as to his conduct; and, taking a moment when the
room was full of different persons, he exclaimed, after fixing his
eyes upon me for a moment, "I think, monsieur, I have had the honour
of meeting you before."
"I think so also," I replied, making an inclination of the head: "your
face is familiar to me, though I really cannot tell where I have seen
it."
"The same is my case," replied he, "in regard to you; but, at all
events, you see that I have abandoned the profession of arms, which I
followed till within the last six months, and have become a humble
captain of a merchant vessel trading to the colonies."
"I admire the versatility of your talents," said I, assuming the same
tone, though doubting greatly the truth of the tale he told me; "you
must have acquired a knowledge of naval matters quickly; for now I
remember you were, when last I saw you, a very distinguished, active,
and expeditious officer in the service to which you were then
attached."
"Oh, monsieur, you are too flattering," he replied; "and, in regard to
my versatility, too, do me more honour than I deserve; for, to tell
the truth, I was originally brought up in the navy. You doubt me," he
added, in a lower tone, "and perhaps doubt the whole story, but it is
true, nevertheless. I have, indeed," he continued aloud, "condescended
to go into the merchant service, but it is only on condition that my
ship be armed, and one of the finest on the water. I should be proud
to show her to you, sir. We sail at high water, which will be in an
hour; and if you will come with me to the port, you shall see us get
under weigh."
I very well comprehended that it might not be quite agreeable to
Captain Hubert, with whom I had made a somewhat interesting
acquaintance in a certain forest near Rennes, to leave a person who
knew his former pursuits so well as I did, to walk unwatched through
the town of St. Malo, at least till such time as he himself had fairly
sailed; the merchant service, it appeared, being his real occupation
at the present moment. To put his mind at ease, therefore, as it
certainly never entered into my head to betray him, I agreed to walk
with him to the port; and, after he had concluded his dinner, which
was interrupted by the applications of half a dozen clerks, and twice
the number of seamen, all proving that his tale was true, we turned
our steps towards the spot where his vessel was lying.
Near the door of the auberge I saw the servant who had accompanied me
thither, and whom I had left to take care of himself. I now, however,
made him a sign to follow, and we thus proceeded to the port, which
was crowded with people of all kinds, every one busy on their own
peculiar affairs, and seeming to think that there was nobody else in
the world but themselves. Here the worthy captain pointed out to me
his vessel, which, indeed, was of a goodly size, and, apparently, well
armed; and it being now time that he should embark, he gave me a
friendly invitation to go with him and take a hasty view of the
interior. This honour, however, I declined; and, playfully catching me
by the collar, he declared I should go, pushing me at the same time
towards his boat with an air of jest, but at the same with sufficient
force to hurry me on a step or two, before I was aware. The spectators
laughed at the good-humoured captain's badinage; but I, who had seen
more of his jests than pleased me, laid my hand upon my dagger, and
beckoned the groom towards me, saying, at the same time, "Let go my
collar, my good sir, while the matter is a joke! You know I am hasty."
"Oh, if you take it in that light," replied the other, seeing the
groom running up, "you are, of course, free to do as you like. But,
remember!" he added, in a low, deep voice, "Remember!"
"Pshaw!" I replied, in the same tone, "do not be afraid; I will not
betray you."
"I trust you," he said; "I trust you;" and, springing into his boat,
he was instantly rowed off to his ship, leaving me to congratulate
myself on having escaped a trip to the colonies, where most likely I
should have been treated more as the merchandise than the merchant.[3]
----------
[Footnote 3: In explanation of this expression of the worthy
autobiographer, it may be necessary to remind the reader, that numbers
of persons were, about that time, kidnapped and sold as slaves in the
various American colonies.]
----------
Amused with my adventure, I returned to my auberge, where I asked one
or two questions concerning the worthy gentleman from whom I had just
parted, and found, by the replies, that, since our former rencontre in
the forest, he had already made one successful trip across the
Atlantic, and had given every sort of satisfaction to the owners of
his vessel. "All is well that ends well," I thought; but, however, it
was no business of mine to interfere with a man's return to an honest
profession, and therefore, of course, I held my peace concerning one,
at least, of his previous occupations.
The next morning at an early hour, I set off on my return to Dumont,
pleased with my whole expedition, and trusting, foolishly, to find
everything in the same state of tranquillity which had reigned there
when I left it. As I rode on, and entered the park by the gates near
Juvigny, all appeared sunshine and brightness, and there was an aspect
of calm serenity about the whole place which rendered it almost
impossible to conceive that it was the abode of anything but
happiness. About half way up the avenue I perceived Monsieur de
Villardin approaching towards me, with his arms crossed on his breast,
and a sort of staggering, uncertain step, which seemed to me
extraordinary. I immediately dismounted, and, giving the horse to the
groom, advanced on foot to meet the Duke, who evidently saw me, but
suddenly turning away, he took a path into one of the side alleys; and
seeing that he wished to be alone, I remounted my horse and rode on to
the château. The first person I saw in the house was Gaspard de
Belleville, who passed me in the vestibule, with a sort of grin upon
his countenance, which made me fear that matters were not going so
well as I could wish; for I had remarked that his smiles were not, in
general, the precursors of anything very pleasant to myself.
The feeling, indeed, that some disagreeable event had occurred was
vague; but I had always found it the best plan to make instant
inquiries into the situation of affairs around me, as soon as ever I
had the slightest suspicion that anything had gone amiss. Without even
proceeding to my own apartments, therefore, I directed my steps, at
once, to the room of my domestic oracle, the major-domo, and entered
unannounced. The old man was busy with papers and accounts; but the
moment he saw me he threw them down upon the table, and, lifting up
his hands with an air of affliction, he exclaimed, "It has all gone
wrong again, sir; it has all gone wrong."
"Why, what, in Heaven's name, is the matter now, Jerome?" I demanded.
"When I left you, all bade fair to continue tranquil and at peace."
"Ay! but there is some demon of mischief at work in the house,"
replied the old man, "whose machinations we don't understand. My lord
is a thousand times worse than ever. Indeed, he hardly appears to me
to be sane."
This news, as it may well be supposed, grieved me deeply; but, of
course, my first thought was to discover the origin of the change that
had taken place, in order, if possible, to counteract any evil that
might have been produced either by accident or by design. "Tell me,
good Jerome," I said, as the old man was going on with desultory
lamentations and vague facts, "tell me exactly what has occurred since
I went away, step by step, as nearly as you can remember it."
"Why, my son," he replied, "I have very little to tell, except what I
have before said, that my lord seems nearly insane. However, let me
see! The only thing that occurred worth noticing the day after you
went away was, that in returning from Juvigny, where I had been
visiting my nephew, late in the evening, I found Master Gaspard and
Madame Suzette, my lady's maid, in one of the alleys of the park a
great deal more intimate than I liked. I had seen something of the
same kind before at the Prés Vallée, and then, though I did not choose
to show myself in the matter, I took good care that my lady should
know what was going on; and I know that she scolded Suzette severely,
and threatened to discharge her if she behaved so lightly. However,
there they were again, walking along together, certainly more like two
lovers than a page of good birth and a lady's tiring-woman ought to
be. Coming upon them suddenly, I passed by without their well seeing
who I was; but I heard him say to her, speaking of some one else, 'Oh!
he would take fire at it in a minute; anything of that kind would do
very well.' This time I thought it my bounden duty to tell my lady
myself what I had seen, and she was very angry indeed. The morning
after that, as I was just going up the great staircase, I heard a
terrible noise in my mistress's dressing-room, and the next moment my
master passed me like a madman; while I saw Lise, the other maid,
running out of my mistress's room as if for help. The moment she set
eyes upon me, she called me to come up and help her; and I found my
mistress lying upon the floor of her dressing-room, as if she were
dead; while beside her there was a large roll of bright blue riband,
which seemed to have fallen out of her hand. While we were lifting her
up to put her on the couch, my lord rushed in again, and, giving a
glance at her as if she had been a viper, snatched up the riband, and
left us to bring her to herself as we best could. She did not recover
for some time; and I thought it but right to call the doctor, who kept
her to her bed all that day. In the meanwhile, I asked Lise to explain
the cause of all this discomfort; and she told me that she knew but
little, not having heard all that passed between my lady and my lord.
When first she went into her mistress's dressing-room, she said, she
found Suzette persuading her mistress to have her white mantle trimmed
with that blue riband; and, though her mistress said it would look
ugly, still she held it in her hand. In a minute or two afterwards,
Suzette went away, and the Duchess asked Lise whether she thought the
riband would look well on the mantle. Just while they were speaking,
in came my lord, and Lise went on into the bed-room beyond; but, in a
moment after, she heard a word or two about the riband, and my lord
gave my lady some hard names which she would not repeat. Hearing some
one fall, she ran in, she said, to see, and found the Duchess as I
have told you she was when I came there. Ever since that time, my lord
has been like one distracted; and though he saw his wife yesterday, he
spoke not a word to her, but all the time he was in the room, he
continued playing with the curls of Mademoiselle's hair, and thinking
of something else."
Although I saw more deeply into the mystery than good old Jerome
Laborde, and felt afraid, indeed, that he himself might
unintentionally have contributed to bring about the change that we
both deplored, yet there were many points of the whole business still
dark and obscure even to myself. That the discovery of a riband in the
hands of his wife, of the same colour, and probably the same shade, as
that which suspended the locket to the neck of the unfortunate Count
de Mesnil, had revived in the mind of Monsieur de Villardin, with more
tremendous force than ever, those suspicions which the exhortations of
Father Ferdinand and mv own direct testimony to the Duchess's conduct
had crushed with difficulty, I did not in the least doubt. Nor had I
more hesitation in concluding that Gaspard's hatred of myself, and
desire to supplant me in the confidence of Monsieur de Villardin,
together with the offence which the Duchess's rebuke in regard to the
page had given Suzette, were sufficient motives for the lovers, or
paramours, or whatever they might be, to combine in fostering the
suspicions of Monsieur de Villardin against his wife, and thus
revenging themselves upon her while they rendered themselves agreeable
to him. But how they came by the knowledge necessary to make such
schemes effectual was, I confess, a wonder to me. Could Monsieur de
Villardin, I asked myself, could he have been weak enough to confide
in Gaspard de Belleville the secret of his encounter with the Count de
Mesnil, and the discovery of the locket and its contents? or could
either Gaspard or Suzette have watched our proceedings on that
occasion, or have overheard any of the conversations relating to it
which had taken place between myself and the Duke? The first
supposition I rejected at once, for it was impossible to believe that
Monsieur de Villardin would trust to the ear of one, whom he himself
suspected of having betrayed his confidence in former instances, a
secret which, from the concealment and privacy that had attended the
duel, might, in all probability, involve his own life. Neither could
I, in calling to mind with the most scrupulous accuracy every
circumstance relating to the transaction, believe that we had either
been watched, or that any of our words had been overheard. The spot
where the duel had taken place was so remote and private, everything
in the house had been so much in its usual train when we returned,
that, certainly, no one could have followed us from the château to the
place of combat; and any conversations that had taken place upon the
subject afterwards had always been carried on in low tones, and in
places where it was almost impossible that they could be overheard.
All this perplexed me greatly; and, although good Jerome Laborde
pressed eagerly for my opinion, I could neither give him insight into
the past, nor advice concerning the future. All that I could suggest
was, that, with the very first opportunity, he should send off notice
of what had occurred to Father Ferdinand, who might boldly originate
the subject in conversation with the Duke, without waiting till he was
addressed upon it. This, of course, neither Jerome Laborde nor I dared
attempt; though we naturally determined to do our best, should the
occasion of serving the unhappy Duchess present itself.
The means of sending off speedily to Father Ferdinand were, luckily,
found without difficulty; for, though we could not risk despatching a
servant to him from the château, yet Jerome saw that another messenger
might be procured by the intervention of Jacques Marlot.
Under these circumstances, I determined to write to the Priest myself;
and, having done so, I committed the letter to the hands of the good
major-domo, who undertook that it should go, at the latest, the next
morning. All this occupied some time, and it was now growing late; but
yet the Duke had not returned. Another hour elapsed; supper-time
arrived; and, although one of the most regular men in his habits that
I ever saw, still Monsieur de Villardin did not appear. The whole
household became alarmed; and Madame de Villardin herself, whom some
one foolishly informed of the facts, gave herself completely up to
terror; and, weeping bitterly, came down to the hall in order to send
out people to seek for her husband. At that moment, however, Monsieur
de Villardin's step was heard in the vestibule; and immediately
afterwards he entered the hall.
He took but little notice of his wife, merely asking, "Why are you
weeping, madam?" and after her reply, that she was apprehensive for
his safety, he cast down his eyes and stood musing, in the middle of
the hall, for two or three minutes, which seemed perfect ages to those
who were the spectators of so painful a scene. Then, starting
suddenly, he looked round frowningly upon myself and several of the
servants, who were gazing upon him in surprise and sorrow, and sat
down to table unwashed, and in his dusty dress.
He seemed, however, by this time to have recovered some kind of
command over his demeanour, and appeared eager to prevent the
servants, whose astonishment he saw that he had excited, from
remarking that there was anything in his behaviour different from his
ordinary habits. He spoke to Madame de Villardin frequently during
supper, to which she sat down with him, using, as he addressed her,
all those forms of cold courtesy and politeness, which none knew
better how to employ than himself. To me, also, he spoke once or twice
concerning my late expedition; and evidently strove, with a desperate
effort, to appear attentive to my replies. It was in vain, however,
that he did so; for he continually relapsed into deep thought, every
two or three minutes rousing himself violently from his reveries, and
then falling back again, whether he would or not, into a state of
dreary abstraction.
The next morning, a new change seemed to have taken place in his mood,
for he came down perfectly himself, collected, and firm. He was quick
and stern, it is true, but that was a frame of mind in which we had
all often remarked him, and thought there was now, perhaps, something
more approaching towards fierceness in his manner than we had ever
beheld; yet this demeanour was so much better than the state of the
preceding evening, that it appeared a relief.
Several times during the course of the morning I hoped that he was
going to speak to me on the subject of his new suspicions, for more
than once he looked earnestly, I may call it wildly, in my face; and
once, when he had done so during a longer space than ever, he suddenly
broke off, and turned away, muttering, "No, no! myself alone!"
I eagerly watched his conduct to Madame de Villardin during dinner,
and saw that it was certainly very different from that of the night
before--keen and rapid, but no longer harsh and abstracted. Yet though
the Duchess herself seemed delighted with the change, and did all she
could to soften him still farther, there appeared to me something not
natural in his manner, which alarmed me, and I determined to walk down
to Juvigny in order to make sure that the letter had been despatched
to Father Ferdinand, for whose coming I prayed more fervently than I
had ever done for the presence of any other man in my life. The reply
was satisfactory--a messenger having been sent off to Rennes at an
early hour; and I felt certain, though it might be late the next day
before the Confessor could arrive, that he would not suffer two suns
to rise ere he was in the château.
So far relieved was the mind of Madame de Villardin by the alteration
in her husband's conduct, which she apparently trusted would now
return to its ordinary course, that she began to resume her usual
habits; and, accompanied by her little girl, took her stated walk in
the cool of the evening; for it was now the month of May, and as warm
as June. The Duke was shut up in his library all day, and, I supposed,
alone; but in descending the back staircase--which, leading from my
apartments in the wing, passed one of the library doors, and thence to
the court behind the château--I encountered Suzette, the Duchess's
woman, coming out from a conference with Monsieur de Villardin; and I
felt sure, from that moment, that no internal change of feeling had
taken place in his bosom, though he might assume, by a great effort, a
different demeanour to those around him. To the hour of supper he was
this night exact: and though his conversation was evidently forced,
and perhaps a little rambling, yet it was fluent and courteous.
After supper, I, as usual, retired to my own apartments, and, full of
painful thoughts, turned to the window, and gazed out upon the park as
it lay before me, sleeping in the calm moonlight. I had not been there
a moment, when a figure appeared upon the terrace, which I instantly
recognised as that of Monsieur de Villardin. With a quick and
irregular pace he descended the flight of steps that led into the
garden, crossed it towards the park, and in a minute after was lost to
my view in one of the dark alleys. Never did I feel so tempted to play
the spy; but though I was conscious that the motive was not an evil
one, yet my mind revolted from the thought, and casting off my
clothes, I went to bed.
The next morning and day passed much in the same manner; but, about
half an hour before dusk, while Madame de Villardin was preparing for
her evening walk, the Duke himself set out on foot before her, saying
to his wife, as he left the saloon, in which I happened to be at the
time, "As you are not going to take Laura with you to-night, if you
come down the walk by the water side, I will meet you. Our young
friend here will accompany you!"
Madame de Villardin's joy at these words almost overflowed at her
eyes; and though she had never said she was not about to take her
little girl with her as the Duke implied, yet she determined to follow
his words exactly, and leaving Mademoiselle to play in the
flower-garden, under the superintendence of Suzette, she set out about
ten minutes after her husband, accompanied by myself alone. She walked
but slowly, and rested about half way down the walk; but although the
sun was below the horizon, and the light was growing faint, yet the
air was so warm and the sky so clear, one could have walked on for
hours with far more pleasure than in the full glare of day.
Ere we had again proceeded a dozen yards, we saw Monsieur de Villardin
come into the alley as if from the bank of the river; and offering his
arm to his wife, he took the garden-seat which I was carrying, and
walked on down the alley in silence. A minute or two after, however,
as we approached one of the little wooden bridges, he paused, and
asked Madame de Villardin whether she was able to walk on a little
further on the other side of the river. "I have just now seen a
wounded chevreuil," he said, "and wish to put it out of its agony;"
and then turning to me, he bade me run back to the house, and bring
his carbine, which I should find charged in his dressing-room.
His voice faltered, I observed, as he spoke, and the moment he had
done, he turned towards the little bridge which might lie at about
fifty or sixty yards from the spot where we stood. A feeling of awe
and agitation came over me not to be described, for I had a sort of
instant conviction that all was not right; and though I took a few
steps towards the château, I paused again almost immediately, not
knowing how to act or what to do. Never in my existence did I feel
such a painful state of uncertainty; and gazing after Monsieur de
Villardin and his fair wife, as they advanced slowly towards the
bridge, my mind in a moment ran over a thousand vague apprehensions,
probable and improbable, which only left the conviction that something
fearful was about to occur, though of what nature I could not divine.
"His carbine!" I thought; "long before I can get back, it will be too
dark for him to shoot anything thirty yards from him!" and I resolved
to follow, and, pretending I had forgotten what he had said, to ask
where the weapon was to be found. When I turned--though, as I have
said, it was quite dusk--I could see the figures of Monsieur and
Madame de Villardin approaching the river; and walking fast to come up
with them, I was within twenty yards of the bridge when they began to
cross it. Scarcely, however, had they taken two steps upon the
wood-work when I heard a crash, a scream, a plunge, and both figures
at once disappeared.
I darted forward to the spot where the bridge had stood, but nothing
now remained of it but some broken fragments attached to the piles,
which, driven into the high bank, had served as the foundation. The
growing obscurity of the twilight, the trees that overhung the banks,
the height of the banks themselves, which at that spot rose full
twenty feet above the stream, the rushing and rippling of the current,
which, there, considerably confined by its bed, hurried on towards a
sharp turn which it took about fifty yards below; all served to
prevent me seeing distinctly what were the objects on the surface of
the water. Fragments of the bridge there certainly were; but I saw
neither Madame de Villardin nor her husband, though the whirling of a
part of the woodwork in one of the eddies of the river made me for a
moment think I beheld the struggles of a living creature. I paused but
for a single instant to calculate what were best to do; and then,
seeing that there was nothing else to be done, I leaped from the high
bank at once into the stream, and as soon as I rose after the first
plunge, I struck rapidly down the current, in order, by exceeding its
own speed, to come up with whatever objects it was carrying down.
Almost at the turn of the river, where the water, in circling round
the point, drifted strongly against the bank, which was here again
less steep, at least on one side, I saw, amongst some broken pieces of
wood, a larger object, impeded in its course down the stream by some
projecting stones and roots of trees, and the next moment I grasped
the arm of Monsieur de Villardin. He seemed perfectly insensible; but,
springing to the shore, I dragged him up the bank, and laid him upon
the turf. Still he made no movement; but, as I confess, that from
various feelings which I need not explain, I felt more interested in
the fate of Madame de Villardin than even in his own, I left him at
once, and again plunging into the stream, I swam rapidly round the
little peninsula I have mentioned.
The river here was more open, and whatever light was in the sky was
reflected clearly from its bosom; but by this time all the fragments
of the bridge had drifted out of sight, and in vain lifting my head as
high as I could, I attempted to discover any object floating upon the
water. Still darting on as fast as my utmost efforts could impel me
along the current, I endeavoured to regain the time lost in drawing
Monsieur de Villardin on shore; and after a moment, a faint and very
distant cry for help caught my ear and encouraged me to strike on. The
cry, however, was never repeated; and after swimming till I was
perfectly exhausted, I was obliged to abandon the attempt in despair,
and landed about a mile below the dwelling of good Jacques Marlot.
Thither I directed my steps as fast as possible; and finding the door
locked, I knocked for several moments so violently as to bring him
himself, with a face of terror, to the gateway. Telling him what had
occurred, I besought him to rouse all the servants of the farm and the
cotters in the neighbourhood, and dividing into two parties, one on
either bank, to search the whole course of the stream with torches and
lanterns.
In the meanwhile, I hurried back, and calling the woodcutter at the
nearest gate of the park, made him hasten on with me to the spot where
I had left Monsieur de Villardin, answering as well as I could the
eager questions which he put to me, as we went, concerning the events
which had occurred.
We found the Duke exactly where I had left him; but, though he had not
moved in the slightest degree, it was evident that he was still alive,
for he was breathing loud and hard, like a person in a deep sleep.
Taking him up in our arms, we carried him as quickly as we could to
the château, when we were instantly surrounded by the whole household;
and by the lights which were now brought, we perceived that a severe
blow on the head was more probably the cause of his insensibility than
the short time he had remained in the water.
Leaving him in the hands of the physician, who for the last month had
inhabited the château, attending upon Madame de Villardin, I set out,
with the greater part of the household, all furnished with torches;
and for three hours continued our search for the body of the unhappy
lady, from the spot where the bridge had broken to a village nearly
six miles farther down the stream. Our search, however, was in vain;
and all feeling that a good mistress, a kind friend, and a gentle
lady, was lost to us for ever, we returned, sad and sorrowful, to the
château.