Sleep was not to be obtained, and I was up long before the dawn. All
the château was dark and silent; but as it was in vain to seek that
blessed forgetfulness, which only falls upon the eyes of toil or
happiness, I dressed myself, notwithstanding the obscurity, and,
throwing back the casement, gazed out upon the dim and silent world,
that lay chill and vague in the fresh depths of an autumnal night.
A heavy dew was falling, spreading a sort of whitish-grey mist over
the woods and falls of ground around the Prés Vallée; but the sky
above was quite clear, and a thousand bright calm stars were looking
out, like the eyes of angels watching the dark scene of man's
melancholy pilgrimage. The ground mist, however, and the nearer masses
of dark trees, and the spangled heaven, were the only objects I could
see as I looked forth, while my ear caught no sound but a light wind
stirring the leaves, and the faint murmur of the river, whose rarely
heard voice showed the profound stillness of everything else around.
Still I gazed out, though it was upon vacancy, for the fresh night
air, as it bathed my feverish brow, seemed to cool the burning of my
brain, and quell the fiery thoughts that were passing within. For near
an hour I continued leaning upon my arm in the deep aperture of the
window, revolving things which took perhaps a more melancholy but a
less frenzied form as the calmness of the night sunk down into my
soul. At length, another sound seemed added to the whisper of the air
and the murmur of the stream, and I fancied that some early shepherd
was leading his flock betimes to the pasture of the neighbouring
meadows. But presently I heard a distinct step, which seemed to
proceed from beneath a group of trees, at about ten yards from the
terrace, under which a walk wound along towards the river; and,
accustomed as I was to mark the slightest noise, I at once concluded
that it was the footfall of some one who, in walking along beneath the
elms, had crossed the gravel. The next moment, as the step lighted on
the turf again, I lost the sound, but almost at the same time, two
figures came a little forward, and paused under the branches of the
trees. Had it been any other kind of night than that which it was, I
could not have distinguished the two strangers from the ground behind
them, but beyond the trees was a deep slope of ground, in which the
mist had gathered, white and heavy, and against it both the trunks of
the elms and the forms of the men beneath their branches were clearly
marked out, though of course it was still impossible to recognise
their persons.
I have before remarked that neither Monsieur de Villardin nor any of
his household were, generally speaking, matutinal in their habits, and
it struck me as extraordinary that any of the servants should show
themselves such very early risers as to be out and walking in the
woods nearly an hour before daybreak. But I soon found, from the
proceedings of the two men who had caught my attention, that they were
none of the inmates of the château. They paused for several minutes
under the trees, gazing up at the building, and scanning every part of
it attentively. They spoke, too, in a low voice, but it was impossible
from the distance to hear what they said, though I could distinctly
see one of them raise his arm and point to the part of the château in
which Laura's apartments lay. My own chambers, as I believe I have
before said, were situated in the tower forming a sort of wing to the
westward of the other buildings, and in the foot of the tower was a
door, which opened at once from the terrace to a staircase which led
up to my apartments, to the rooms above them, and to the corridor
communicating with the rest of the house.
At the end of a few minutes, the two men advanced leisurely to the
terrace, and, mounting the steps, approached the base of the château,
seeming carefully to examine the principal door, from which, however,
they turned again immediately, and came towards the foot of the tower
through one of the windows of which I was watching them. As I was now
not above ten or twelve feet above the spot where they stood, I could
hear more distinctly what passed between them; and to speak the truth,
they were conversing with a sort of cool and confident nonchalance,
which showed that they either cared not who listened, or had no fear
of being overheard.
"I have known this one left open for nights together," said one, as
they approached the door beneath my windows.
"But, if it were, you would not go in?" replied the other.
"Not to-night, certainly," said the first again; "but if we found that
it is still usually open, we could easily come back strong enough to
do what we liked."
"Ay," answered his companion, "but would the priest do his part under
such circumstances? I heard him promise to marry them if they came
willingly; but----"
"Give him a thousand francs more, and he will do anything,"
interrupted the first; "I would coin my very blood to do it."
"It would be a glorious booty, to be sure," was the sort of meditative
reply; "but, after all, I think we may fall upon a better plan. We
should find it difficult to muster sufficient hands. However, if we
once get hold of her, we will easily find means to make marriage the
best thing she can do."
"Oh, no fear of that," answered the other; and after a few words more
that I could not distinguish, they tried the door at the foot of the
tower, and finding it locked, retrod their steps across the terrace.
For a moment or two, they again paused under the elms, and once more
scrutinised every part of the building; and then turning through the
dell behind, they were immediately lost to my sight.
What could be their purpose? was my first question; and though I
certainly could not find a probable answer, yet one fact was
evident--their purpose, whatever it was, was anything but good. How it
might be obviated became the next consideration; and as I was about
to quit the vicinity for a long time, and did not choose to be
suspected of any wish to linger, I saw that the only thing which
remained for me to do was to inform Monsieur de Villardin of the
facts, and set him upon his guard. As I reflected, however, I saw
that I might find no fitting opportunity for putting my intention in
execution the next morning, and in all that I was about to suffer,
it appeared not improbable that I should forget it altogether. While
it was fresh in my mind, then, I determined to write it down, and
leave it for the Duke at my departure; and having struck a light,
I thus occupied myself till the day mingled its purer beams with
the yellow glare of my lamp.
Thinking that if Laura had heard of any of the events which had taken
place during the preceding evening, she might be at our rendezvous
earlier than usual, I set out as soon as the sun was fully risen, and
with a wavering step and beating heart, took my way to the trees at
which we usually met. Casting myself down upon the dewy grass, I
waited her arrival; and bitter, bitter were the feelings which filled
the next half-hour. About to part with her for ever--about to resign
her to the arms of another--all her loveliness and all her gentleness
seemed heightened a thousand-fold by the power of regret. Nor were my
feelings entirely selfish--at least, if they were so, they strove hard
to clothe themselves in a garb of disinterestedness. "If she could be
happy herself," I thought, "half my sorrow would be removed; but to
know that my own misery implies hers also, and that she, like me, is
destined to a life of sorrow and disappointment, is too, too painful."
At our usual time of meeting she came; and Lise remained by the bank
of the stream, within call, but out of hearing of any ordinary tone. I
saw at once that Laura was unaware of any change, and her first words
were an affectionate comment upon my pale and haggard looks. I would
have given worlds that she had known the whole before we met, for oh,
how terrible it was to break to her the approaching end of our
communion for ever! How I did it I can scarcely tell, but her grief
and agony were far more fearful than even I had anticipated. At that
moment of bitter sorrow, all the treasure of her heart was poured
forth. She had no reserve--she had no coldness; and, with her weeping
face buried in my bosom, she told me how long and how dearly she had
loved me, and traced, in words that only served to render me more
miserable, the growth of her affection for me, from her infancy to
that hour. I did all that I could, without appearing indifferent or
unkind, to calm her, and to persuade her that no course was left
either for her or me but to obey the commands of her father; and while
I told how deep was my love, how acute was my grief, and how eternal
would be my regret, I besought her to forget me, and to strive for
happiness, or at least, tranquillity, in the only way in which it
could be obtained.
"De Juvigny," she cried, clasping her beautiful hands, "I will so far
obey my father as never to dream of marrying you without his consent;
but I can love none other; my heart is given, and for ever; and I will
never perjure myself by vowing to love any man, when I know and feel
that I cannot do so. No, De Juvigny, no; there is a higher duty than
even that to my parent; and it cannot be violated. When I looked upon
my husband I should think of you, and I should hate him because he was
not you. I should drown his house with tears, and show him every hour
that I loved another. No, De Juvigny, no," she cried, starting up; "I
will fly to my father this instant; I will tell him all and
everything; I will show him the consequences of what he is about to
do, and I will entreat him to spare me at least the last and worst
part of his will."
As she spoke, she turned, and ere I could even attempt to stay her,
she darted away like lightning, all bathed in tears, to cast herself
at her father's feet, and implore him to change a purpose which I knew
too well to be unchangeable. Lise, who saw her pass, followed quick,
and I more slowly, feeling that she had herself put an end to our last
interview, and that it could never be renewed. Passing by the door of
Monsieur de Villardin's chamber, which was not entirely closed, I
heard her voice, mingled with sobs, still entreating her father to
yield his resolution. I knew, however, that she would entreat in vain:
I knew, too, that means would be found after my departure to sooth
her, and to persuade her to acquiesce in the views which had been
formed for her by her father; and feeling that to linger longer than
necessary was but to inflict additional pain upon her, upon myself,
and upon Monsieur de Villardin, I summoned my servants, bade them
prepare my horses and baggage immediately, and seeking out little
Clement de la Marke, I told him that I was about to set off for
Dumont, if he were willing to accompany me. Any change is generally
delightful to youth, and the boy, catching at the proposal with
rapture, flew to make ready for the journey, while I returned to my
chamber to give the last thoughts to all the agonizing pangs of my
present situation.
Scarcely had I entered it, however, when I was followed by Monsieur de
Villardin. He was pale and much agitated; but, nevertheless, he did
not fail to remark, with his usual kindness, the change which had been
wrought in my appearance by the passing of the last twelve painful
hours.
"You are sadly altered, De Juvigny," he said, "and this unfortunate
business will be the destruction of us all, if it be not speedily
brought to a conclusion. At present it is vain arguing with Laura; but
I need not tell you that at any sacrifice my word must be kept. After
you are gone, I trust we shall be able to calm her and bring her to
reason; but, in the meantime, for the sake of every one, it will be
better for us to part immediately."
"My lord," I replied, "I am ready at this moment, and my servants have
orders to lose not an instant in their preparations. In less than
half-an-hour the horses will be on the terrace, and before night I
trust to be at Dumont. In the meanwhile, allow me to give you this
letter, which I wrote to you during the night, fearing that I might
not have an opportunity of speaking with you on the subject ere I set
out."
He took it with somewhat of an anxious glance, as if he feared that it
might inflict upon him some new pain connected with the matter which
was uppermost in all our thoughts; but I hastened to relieve him. "It
refers, my lord," I continued, "to something which I observed last
night, while looking out of the window to pass away the time, as I was
not inclined to sleep, and which I felt myself bound to make you
acquainted with, lest any evil should occur during my absence."
Monsieur de Villardin tore open the letter and read its contents. "It
is strange enough," he said, when he had concluded; "it is certainly
strange enough; but we are a great deal too strong in numbers to fear
any violence, although I hear that two or three people have been
plundered in the neighbourhood of St. Aubin, and that Monsieur de Vins
himself was shot at in riding through the forest: however, I will be
upon my guard. And now, my dear boy, you must promise to let me hear
from you continually. As my affection towards you is anything but
decreased by all that has happened, let me trust that your affection
towards me remains unimpaired likewise, though you may be the
sufferer. No one knows better than myself that the human mind can do
but little to master affliction and overcome the emotions of the
heart: but still it can do something; and I am sure that, for all our
sakes, you will exert yourself to the utmost to conquer the effects of
sorrow and disappointment."
I made no reply, for I knew too well how little one can calculate upon
one's own powers in moments of passion or despair. Almost as he had
done speaking, one of my servants came in to inform me that the horses
were prepared, and that everything was ready to set out. My heart was
too full to take leave of any one, and merely clasping Monsieur de
Villardin's hand for one moment in my own, I descended as rapidly as
possible to the terrace.
I found Father Ferdinand at the door, embracing little Clement de la
Marke before his departure. Old Jerome, the major-domo, and a great
many of the servants and attendants, were standing round, grave and
sad, and evidently aware that something unpleasant had occurred to
cause my sudden departure. My own three servants, booted and spurred,
stood holding the horses in front of the house; and, as my eye glanced
accidentally over the windows, I saw that many a person was watching
to see me set out, though I was afraid of looking farther, lest I
should behold what might overcome my resolution. Saying a few words to
Father Ferdinand, I walked direct towards my horse; but, as I was
going to mount, I found that Monsieur de Villardin himself, anxious to
deprive my situation of any unnecessary pain, had followed me out to
take leave of me in the kindest manner before all those who were
looking on. Laying his hand upon my arm, as I was just about to put my
foot in the stirrup, he embraced me affectionately, saying, "Heaven
bless you, my dear boy; let me hear from you directly." He then
turned, and patted the head of little Clement de la Marke, wishing him
a safe journey; and then looked round again to me, with an anxious and
even hesitating glance, as if he would fain, fain have yielded all,
and forbidden my departure.
I felt that I could bear no more; and leaping into the saddle, I
struck my horse with the spur, and galloped away from the Prés Vallée
and the many dear objects that it contained. Those who have lost all
that was nearest to their heart on earth may judge what were my
feelings for the first ten miles. It were useless to detail all that I
experienced:--the bitter disappointment, the burning regret, the
swelling of the sad heart, the fire of the agitated brain. I have
spoken of it all too much already; and, besides, it is impossible to
give any idea of sensations which I do not believe that many can feel,
and which those who can feel must know that it is impossible to
relate.
My thoughts in regard to Laura were, indeed, a wild chaos of
everything painful and distressing, without form or consistency.
Towards Monsieur de Villardin, however, my feelings were more clearly
denned; and, notwithstanding all that I suffered, I did full justice
to the noble and generous conduct which he had displayed towards me. I
saw and felt even then, that his kindness--that his generous sympathy,
under the painful circumstances in which I was placed, would, at some
future period, when time should have softened the pangs that it could
never cure, become one of the sweetest memories for my after years,
and bind me to that noble-hearted man by a tie that could never be
broken. I saw, too, hi examining his behaviour, that the memory of all
he himself had felt had greatly influenced his conduct. It was the
same noble spirit which, moved by passion and by the arts of others to
absolute madness, had in former days caused his own wretchedness and
misery, that now, divested of any personal passion, softened and
purified by long years of sorrow and regret, led him to sympathize
deeply and sincerely with two hearts, which he was bound by an
obligation he could not violate to tear asunder. His unshaken
kindness--the generous confidence that he had reposed in me, which was
the more touching from his heart not being naturally a confiding
one--the sympathy he had shown--the allowances he had made--all
affected me much; and, although I could not but think he was wrong in
not permitting Laura to decide for herself, though I thought that no
promise could bind a father to use absolute compulsion with his child,
yet his conduct towards myself left me without a word to say, and made
me love him the more deeply even while he inflicted the most bitter of
disappointments.
These were the only alleviating feelings which my heart experienced,
as I rode on towards Dumont. All the rest was bitterness itself; and,
although I had by this time made up my mind to the belief that it
would be criminal to expose myself to danger in a greater degree now
than I would have done upon any other occasion, yet I acknowledge that
I was in that frame of mind in which death would have been a relief;
and that I should have blessed the hand which took a life that I
looked upon as a prolongation of misery through a long and tedious
series of years. Such were my thoughts as I rode through a part of the
forest in which Monsieur de Villardin had told me that some outrages
had lately been committed; and I could not help feeling that if a
chance shot from some of the plunderers that still infested the
country were to lay me low, it would be but a happy termination of
sufferings to which I now saw no end. Death, however, has his own
appointed time; and as it is vain to fly from him, so also is it vain
to seek him ere the moment be come. Nothing disturbed me on my
journey, no sign of marauders was visible as I rode along, not a
creature did I meet but a forester with his axe upon his shoulder, and
a thin priest riding quickly along on his ambling palfrey. Such were
the only sights which I saw in the forest, except the tall trees, and
the yellow banks, and the jays fluttering and chattering from bough
to bough.
Sombre and silent as was every feeling of my bosom, my little page
Clement endeavoured in vain to seduce me into conversation while we
rode along; but still nothing could repress the joy of his heart; and,
indeed, no small delight did he seem to experience at the idea of
revisiting Dumont, and the scenes in which I had first found him, of
all which he had preserved the most perfect recollection, and for
which he seemed to entertain a peculiar regard. After riding about
twenty miles, we paused to refresh our horses, and, remembering that
the boy's frame was not so strong as my own, I asked him if he were
fatigued, and would like to remain for the night at the auberge where
we had made our halt; but he declared eagerly that he was not tired in
the least, and that he had much rather proceed to Dumont as fast as
possible. After a short repose, then, we resumed our journey, and
reached the place of our destination before night.
One or two female servants, who had remained in the château, soon put
my apartments in order; but still, about the whole place, there was
that air of chilly solitude which every house gains by being left long
unoccupied. My own heart had no gay feelings to cheer or enliven it;
all the memories associated with every object around me were of the
most gloomy and painful description; the sear leaves of autumn were
upon every tree, a dull covering of grey vapour veiled the brightness
of the sky, a sharp, parching wind was blowing the clouds of dust down
the dim deserted avenues of the park, while the closed windows of the
greater part of the building spoke the want of inhabitants, and the
aspect of everything harmonised too well with the dark and sombre
thoughts that crowded my own bosom. I have felt pain, and anxiety, and
misery, at different periods of my life, but I never, throughout the
whole range of remembrance, can call to mind having experienced such
deep despondency as on that night of my arrival at Dumont.