As my negotiations with Monsieur le Tellier concerning the resignation
of the governorship had been carried on too rapidly to admit of my
writing to Monsieur de Villardin by any of the ordinary couriers, my
arrival at the Prés Vallée was unexpected; and when, from the windows
of the library, he beheld his daughter leaning on the arm of a young
cavalier, whose face he could not distinguish in the grey of the
evening as we crossed the terrace, his surprise was so great that he
came out to the steps of the château to meet us. His pleasure appeared
hardly less than his astonishment when he recognised me; and Lise
having entered the house, the tidings soon spread through the
household; so that, while Monsieur de Villardin was giving me a glad
welcome, I had my little page Clement de la Marke, old Jerome Laborde,
and half a dozen of the ancient domestics, turned out upon the terrace
to greet my arrival, not knowing that Monsieur de Villardin himself
had come forth to do me that honour.
The Duke smiled when he saw them; and, still holding my hand, which he
had taken at our first meeting, he led me in, saying,--"You see what
a favourite you are, my dear boy: but I will have my turn now; and,
indeed, I am almost jealous of Laura, for having forestalled me in
giving you welcome."
His manner was that of an affectionate father receiving a
well-beloved son after a long absence; and as, notwithstanding the
propensity of human nature to presume upon kindness, I never entirely
forgot that I had been a friendless orphan, destitute and lonely, it
may be easily imagined what feelings such tenderness inspired. When we
had entered the library, Monsieur de Villardin seated himself at the
table, with Laura by his side, and with his hand leaning on her
shoulder; and they both gazed upon me so intently, as I sat opposite
to them, as almost to make me smile.
"Well, well," said Monsieur de Villardin, at length, "you are not much
changed since I saw you; though a good deal, I dare say, in the eyes
of Laura."
Mademoiselle de Villardin, however, declared that I was not changed in
the least; and, indeed, would fain have persuaded her father that I
was exactly the same in appearance as when I had saved her from
drowning at Dumont, some eight or nine years before.
"It has come upon you gradually, Laura," replied her father; "but now,
tell me, De Juvigny, how came you here, and in whose hands have you
left your government?"
I explained to him the whole particulars; which, as he well knew the
grasping spirit of Mazarin, did not at all surprise him: nor did the
arrangement, I believe, displease him at heart; for, after a comment
or two on the injustice of the proceeding, and a promise to use his
influence in order to obtain for me something equivalent to that which
I had lost, he added,--"But I will take care that it shall be nothing
that will separate us again; for your absence has been a loss to me
which I scarcely thought anything could now prove, at least in such a
degree. That I should feel it deeply, however, is not at all
astonishing; for I think, De Juvigny, it is now between nine and ten
years since first we met; and, during that time, we have never before
been separated for many months, except when you were in prison at
Stenay. I think, too, that during that time, you have accumulated upon
my head more obligations than ever one man before conferred upon
another. You have been my confidant, my adviser, my friend, and my
constant companion; so that I may well feel your absence as a loss
which the society of even my dear child can scarcely compensate."
"There now, my dear brother," cried Laura, using an epithet which she
often employed towards me; "have I not a right to be jealous of you?
and, indeed," she added, "I should almost be jealous of your little
page, too, who has completely supplanted both my father's other pages
in his affection, were I not as fond of the dear boy myself."
Almost as she spoke, Clement himself entered the library, bounding up
to my knee with that sort of bold and undismayed step, which showed me
clearly upon what very unceremonious terms he had established himself
in the family of Monsieur de Villardin. He was greatly changed in his
appearance since I had last seen him, though he was still as fine a
boy as ever I beheld; and as tall, as strong, and as well proportioned
as many boys of eleven or twelve, although he could not be, at that
time, so much as nine years old. There was, too, in his whole
appearance, an air of graceful ease--a sort of natural dignity--which
was extraordinary in one so young; and I felt very sure, from his
whole demeanour, that he had been informed by some one, that his rank
and station in society was equal to that of those with whom he was
called to mix. The time he had spent at the Prés Vallée had certainly
not been thrown away; for I soon found that my little page was already
a more accomplished scholar than myself; and I easily perceived, from
the manner in which he executed all that he had learned of military
exercises, that he wanted but habit, discipline, and experience to
become eventually one of the best soldiers of the day.
I had always been kind to him during the few months we spent together
every year; and, looking upon him but as a younger son of the same
adventurous family with myself, I had treated him perhaps as a
favourite brother. This had, of course, rendered him fond of me; and
his manner towards me was everything that I could desire. There was no
want of respect, though it was the respect of affection and esteem;
and, though he was frank and bold, telling me at once his thoughts,
his opinions, and his wishes, yet it was done with that air of natural
confidence and candour that rendered it infinitely pleasing; while, at
the same time, he yielded to my wishes or my arguments as if he felt a
pleasure in doing what I bade him, and in giving up his mind to my
direction. Whether the affection of my mind that he gained upon his
side was vanity, self-love, or any more noble feeling, I cannot tell,
but certainly he wound himself completely round my heart; though, to
say the truth, during the six weeks that I remained at the Prés
Vallée, I was very little with him.
Other feelings and other pursuits gradually took possession of me
altogether;--feelings which I did not understand, and would not
examine,--pursuits, the tendency of which I did not perceive, and the
result of which I dared not calculate. From some early prejudice,
Monsieur de Villardin had the utmost hatred at the very thought of a
gouvernante for his daughter; and though, for the form's sake, he had
often declared that he must procure one,--though many of his female
relations had reasoned with him upon the subject, and had held up
before his eyes all the customs and respects of the world which
require such a proceeding,--yet no step had been taken to that effect;
and Laura de Villardin, now in her sixteenth year, remained in her
father's house with no other female attendants than Lise, her
principal maid, and two or three ordinary tiring-women. Masters for
all sorts of accomplishments visited her from Rennes every morning;
but from two o'clock till the hour of repose, her time was all her
own; and it was now divided between her father and myself. The vigour,
however, of Monsieur de Villardin was beginning to be impaired; and,
though he was still a strong and powerful man for his time of life,
yet a degree of inactivity, when no great excitement prompted to
exertion, showed that years began to lay as a burden upon him. Thus
the walks and rides of Laura de Villardin, before my arrival, had
often been taken alone, or only followed, when on horseback, by some
servants, or, when on foot, by her attendant Lise. Now, indeed, the
matter was changed, and I became her constant companion in the rambles
which before might be considered as solitary. It never seemed to
strike Monsieur de Villardin that any feeling which might be dangerous
to his other views, or to our peace, could spring out of such constant
association. Doubtless he thought that, having grown up together from
very early years, our feelings would ever remain those of a brother
and sister; or, perhaps, he never thought about it at all. No
impediment, however, did he ever throw in our way; but, on the
contrary, whenever he felt any indisposition himself, he was the first
to send me with her on any excursion that she proposed to take, and
more than once reminded me that, at a very early age, I had pledged
myself to be her protector and defender throughout the years of youth.
Thus it was that, during the six weeks that I now stayed at the Prés
Vallée, I was, for at least one half of each day, in the constant
society of Laura de Villardin. A considerable portion, indeed, of that
time was spent in company with her father; but I may say, no day
passed without her being alone with me, either wandering with her arm
in mine through the fair scenes round us, or reading together some
tale of ancient lore, or sitting at the foot of some tree, and
enjoying the beautiful spring for at least two or three hours.
It must not be thought that knowingly and wilfully I took advantage of
these opportunities to steal the heart of the young heiress of such
broad lands and splendid possessions. I have before said that I did
not and would not examine what I was doing, or what was likely to be
the result either with herself or me. There was no calculation in the
business, no consideration, no forethought. The fascination was too
strong for reflection. Her society was delightful to me, as it always
had been; and I enjoyed it as I had ever done, without knowing that it
could become dangerous. The only thing, I am confident, that even for
a moment could have caused a suspicion in either her bosom or mine of
what was really passing in our hearts, were the feelings which
accompanied our first meetings in the mornings. It had always been her
custom--a custom sanctioned by the universal habits of France--after
turning from her father's salutation and embrace, to welcome me in the
same manner: and whenever we had been in the same dwelling, from our
childhood up to that hour, not a day had passed without my lips being
pressed upon her cheek, while her fair hand rested in mine, and her
sweet voice gave me the good-morrow.
Now, however, I perhaps experienced feelings, at the moment of our
morning meeting, which should have told me more. A thrill passed
through me as her hand touched mine; my heart beat as our eyes met,
and I ought to have felt that the kiss was no longer that of a
brother. But it is wonderful how blind people become under such
circumstances, and, I say the truth, upon my honour, when I say that I
did not know that deep and passionate love was growing up in my heart
towards Laura de Villardin. If Monsieur de Villardin calculated at all
upon the same feelings which had animated us in infancy remaining
still unchanged, he calculated not only most wrongly, but upon false
grounds altogether. Such might have been the case had we never been
separated; but now,--at the same time that our youthful affection had
prepared our hearts to receive gladly every new feeling that bound us
to each other--we had been of late years absent from each other for so
many months, that each renewal of our intercourse came with the
freshness of a new acquaintance, and at length, when I returned after
a more prolonged separation still, I found the sweet girl, who was
already so dear to me, sprung up into womanhood: I found her the most
lovely and engaging creature I had ever beheld, while admiration was
heightened and softened by a thousand tender memories, and long habits
of endearing intimacy.
Still, we neither of us knew how rapidly love was gaining on our
hearts--still, neither of us made the slightest effort to resist his
power, or to avoid his influence. Our lonely walks were the sweetest
of our lives; and, though we were very frequently accompanied by Lise,
who probably divined more of our own feelings than we did ourselves;
yet, I must confess that she was the most discreet and friendly of
suivantes, and contrived to throw no restraint upon our conversations.
What those conversations were heaven knows. They were a whirl of
bright things; a mixture of dreams, and thoughts, and feelings, the
blendings of passion and imagination, which might altogether form many
a page of wild but brilliant nonsense, if I could write down an exact
transcript of all that passed.
We were in love with the world, and all that it contained; and, from
the bright feelings that had sprung up within us, e very thing around
us seemed bright. Our whole sensations were a panegyric upon all that
we beheld: the sunshine was gayer than ever sunshine had been before;
the trees were greener--the fields more sweet and fresh; for us the
breeze was loaded with perfume; for us each flower had some new
beauty--some brighter grace. We found it inexhaustible to praise and
to admire; for everything around offered us the reflex of that
happiness, which had so lately arisen in our own bosoms.
Be it remarked, however, that, amongst all the subjects of
conversation which we now enjoyed--and they were as varied as the
shapes of summer-clouds--that we never talked of love. We spoke of
ancient tales, and bright, unexampled friendship--the arts and graces
of Greece--the virtues and the might of Rome. We spoke of modern
days--of gallant deeds in the field--of sad and tragic events--of
stories of interest and of anecdotes of wit. We spoke of the beauties
of nature, and of all the fair varieties of the world's face. We spoke
of ourselves, and our interests, and our feelings, and our tastes. We
spoke of our many associated memories in the past, and we looked
forward to many a hope and pleasure together in the future; but still
we never spoke of love. It might be a deep, hidden, eternal, unavowed
consciousness, concealed from our own eyes as well as from the rest of
the world, that made us avoid--I must call it scrupulously--the most
distant approach to that one subject, amongst all the rest of which we
spoke. It might be that, by some sort of instinctive perception, we
trod lightly, because we found that our feet were upon a volcano.
The fire, however, went on within our hearts, though silently. We
drank the intoxicating cup to the dregs, without knowing that it was
wine. There was none to open our eyes--there was none to warn us; and,
like all other persons in the same situation, we woke not from our
dream till it was too late.
Such might not have been the case, had not the only member of the
family who was likely to have given us warning and counsel--to have
felt for all our feelings, and foreseen all our danger--had he not
been absent during the whole of my stay at the Prés Vallée. I allude
to Father Ferdinand, who, only two days before my arrival, had set out
for Dumont. He did not return as soon as had been expected, and I more
than once proposed to ride over to Dumont, and see him; but there was
a fascination at the Prés Vallée which detained me with a power not to
be resisted, and I put off my expedition from day to day, till at
length an order arrived for Monsieur de Villardin and myself to resume
our military duties, and we were obliged to prepare for our departure.
The summons came nearly a month sooner than we had expected, and of
course caused no small bustle and confusion, especially as Monsieur de
Villardin, yielding to the degree of corporeal inactivity, which, as I
have before said, was creeping over him, determined to travel to Paris
in his carriage, instead of on horseback; and consequently the time
consumed on the journey was likely to be much greater than usual.
I had on a former occasion promised little Clement de la Marke to take
him with me in the next campaign, and although I now felt some scruple
at exposing a boy of his tender age to all the dangers and fatigues of
a camp, yet he pressed me so vehemently to keep my word with him, that
I at length consented; remembering how much more severe had been the
hardships that surrounded my own early youth, and believing that the
hard school in which my education had commenced had been ultimately of
infinite benefit to me through life.
The day appointed for our departure speedily approached, and as it
came nearer, the hours spent with Laura became doubly dear; nor indeed
did she look less lovely, or less interesting, from a shade of
melancholy that spread more and more over her fair face, as every
minute that fled took something from the small space of time that we
had yet to dream away in each other's society. She never loved parting
from her friends, she said; and she knew not why, but she felt more
apprehensive for her father than she had ever before done on his
departure for the army. She besought me to be watchful of him, and to
persuade him, as much as possible, to keep out of all unnecessary
danger; but she said not a word of caution on my part. A thousand
little traits, however, let me feel that she was not indifferent to my
safety either, and she took great pains to show me how ungenerous and
unkind it was towards friends and relations for any soldier to expose
himself rashly and carelessly.
At length the day arrived; the horses were put to the carnage, and
Monsieur de Villardin, myself, and little Clement, one by one took our
leave of Laura, and departed. The tears streamed over her cheeks as
she bade us adieu, but there was certainly nothing to point out that
those tears flowed more painfully than her separation from her father
under such circumstances might well justify. Monsieur de Villardin
took his seat in one corner of the coach, and I in the other, and
little Clement placed himself in the portiere, where he could more
easily see what was passing around. Two other pages accompanied us,
and a few attendants on horseback followed, while a number of servants
had been sent forward with our chargers, in order to reach the capital
by easy journeys. The Duke, silent and grave as usual, soon fell into
a fit of thought, which lasted uninterrupted during the greater part
of the day. The two pages, on the opposite side of the carriage, were
as mute as mice, and little Clement, in his portiere, was too busily
occupied with all the new objects that passed before his eyes, to
break in upon our silence by anything more than a casual exclamation
of wonder or pleasure, or by some question, which he generally
answered himself, fully to his own satisfaction, before any one else
could reply.
My thoughts were busy enough upon subjects which were destined to grow
more and more painful under reflection. The first feelings to which I
gave way were those of pure sorrow at parting with Laura de Villardin;
and I felt, for the first time in my life, that faint sickness of
heart, which I suppose every one feels in separating from a being so
dear--that sensation of a deprivation and a void--that oppressive
sense of the uncertainty of fate, which may ever throw so many
obstacles in our way, ere we can again behold those that we so deeply
love. Such feelings are painful enough in themselves; but I soon began
to inquire their cause. I had been longer negligent in examining my
own heart, and in tracing the latent causes of all that was working in
it, than I had been for many years; but the magic which had withheld
my thoughts from every other subject, and which had cast a veil over
every other sensation, was now lost; and my mind naturally turned to
inquire what was the real cause of all those new and mingled feelings,
which, for six weeks, had been a source of such joy, and which now had
left me full of sad thoughts and melancholy forebodings. The truth was
no longer to be concealed: the very pain I felt at quitting Laura de
Villardin told me that I loved her--the very depression of spirits,
and distaste for the career before me--a career which had formerly
occupied all my thoughts and wishes--now showed me where my hopes and
pleasures all centred; and repeated, in language that I could not
doubt, that I loved, and loved too deeply ever to forget.
Such a certainty, under some circumstances, might have so mingled hope
and expectation with all the anxieties and apprehensions which follow
every strong passion, that the whole would still have remained a
pleasant dream to cheer me on upon the path of exertion and
enterprise; but, situated as I was, the tardy discovery alone exposed
to my sight a prospect of disappointment and despair. What could I
hope?--what could I expect? I, a poor adventurer, with but the two
recommendations of personal courage and noble birth; I, whose whole
possessions on earth were owing to the generosity of others--whose
way to fame and distinction had been opened by their kind
endeavours--could I hope to win the heiress of one of the noblest
houses and of the most splendid fortunes in all France; I, who had
been her father's page; who owed him everything--fortune, station, and
the means of gaining renown. Oh! what I would have given at that
moment to have had the power of changing her I loved into the
daughter of some poor gentleman, who would have gladly bestowed her
without a portion.
Perhaps for a single instant one of the idle visions of hope broke in
with a ray of light, as I remembered to what stations many young men,
situated precisely as myself, had arisen by energy and good fortune;
and especially when I thought of Mondejeu, afterwards Maréchal de
Shulemberg, whom I myself recollected an unnoticed page in the house
of the Duc de Bouillon, and who, by that time, had become governor of
the important city of Arras, and was in the road to the highest
honours of France. But such dreams were speedily at an end; for every
way I turned my eyes, some new circumstance presented itself, to prove
my situation more and more hopeless. The final stroke of all, however,
was when I considered what would be the feelings of Monsieur de
Villardin, if ever he discovered that I had dared to raise my hopes to
the hand of his daughter; and still more, if he were to find that I
had attempted, by any means, to win her affection. Would he not have a
right, I asked myself, to accuse me of the basest ingratitude?--would
he not be entitled to charge me with deceit and hypocrisy? Had I not
already in some degree betrayed his trust, unconsciously, indeed, but
still most foolishly? Ought I not to have looked into my own heart
long before; and, judging by what I felt myself, have taken every care
to guard against the slightest attempt to inspire the same feelings in
the daughter of my benefactor?
I could not but acknowledge that if I had acted wisely or prudently,
if I had been as watchful for his interests and for his peace as
gratitude and affection ought to have made me, I should have played a
different part, and avoided the society of her that I loved. I
trusted, however, that it was not too late to remedy my folly.
Whatever I had inflicted on myself, however irremediable was the state
of disappointment and despair to which I had condemned my own heart, I
hoped and believed that Laura's feelings had been less interested. If,
indeed, there had been anything farther in her sentiments towards me
than mere sisterly affection, I trusted that it would soon pass away;
and I determined never to see her again till I could command my own
demeanour, and behave to her in a very different manner from that in
which I had conducted myself of late.
I would try to conquer my passion, I thought, or die. I am afraid the
idea of death was uppermost from the beginning, for before we had
reached the end of our first day's journey, a dream, of a bright but
painful nature, flitted frequently before my imagination. The path of
glory and honour I thought was before me, and in the same path lay
death, who, with his icy hand, would soon cool all the feverish
burning of my heart. How bright, then, would it not be, I asked
myself, to out-do in the field all that man had ever done, and to have
it told to Laura de Villardin, that I had won immortal honour, and
died upon the bed of glory? She would weep for me, I fancied, and her
father would weep; and if the love I bore her were ever discovered, it
would then but serve to shed a brighter light upon my memory, rather
than throw a shadow on my name.