understand and pardon myself. I remained at home again that morning,
for, on the day before, I had not written a single letter.
"'I shall not disturb the duet,' said my wife, smiling, as she went out
with the child. But I did not touch the violin, although the little
piano beneath seemed to demand it. The pen remained unmoistened. I lay
motionless in my hammock, listening. It sounded even more magical than
before. Now I had the player's face definitely before me: the
beautiful, unvarying pallor of the cheeks; the sensitive mouth, with
its full, red lips, always slightly apart; the small, white hands.
Often it seemed to me as if my wife, stepping behind the player, looked
at the music over her shoulder. Then, calmly comparing them, I could
not decide which was the more charming; they agreed as well in life as
in my heart.
"When my wife returned--she brought an extremely clever study, and the
child had her hands full of harvest flowers--she was much surprised to
hear that I had not touched the violin. She urged me to arrange a
regular practice hour with the Countess; I objected that the little
piano stood in the room where she lived and slept, and that I would not
accompany her if she played on the miserable instrument in the _salon_.
At table there was some talk about it, but since she herself failed to
encourage it, and especially since the brother, who believed music
injurious to her health, showed no interest, the matter was not
mentioned again. Altogether, it seemed as if the beautiful 'danger' and
I were never to become better acquainted. If I began any conversation
whatsoever with her, it soon came to a pause; and she on her part never
addressed me without some obvious reason. On our walks she took my
wife's arm, and went ahead; I followed with her brother; the child,
running from one couple to the other, soon attached herself trustfully
to the quiet, strange lady who was so friendly to her. Often we all
chatted together, and on these occasions my wife was always conspicuous
for her charming gayety. She persuaded the Countess to try the broken
German which she had learned from an old Alsacian nurse. This gave
occasion for much lively joking and teasing, and even enlivened the
serious brother. He was working hard at a statistical paper, through
which he hoped to obtain a place in the ministry. For the rest, he was
a most pleasant companion, paid court to my wife in all honor, gave
fruits and sweetmeats to the child, and, in a weak, but pleasing voice,
sang Provencal folk-songs, the only music for which he had taste or
talent.
"Thus we were very sorry to hear one day that his chief had
unexpectedly recalled him. He was obliged to depart at once, but would
not allow his sister to accompany him. He begged us to persuade her to
remain a few weeks longer in the glorious air and scenery of the lake,
for she had visibly improved during the past eight days, and had slept
better and suffered less from headache than usual.
"My wife embraced her warmly, and declared she would not allow her to
leave her care as yet. She had wagered with her that it would not be
impossible to entice a little color into her velvety cheeks, and, for
at least four weeks longer, she would use all her arts to win the bet.
The little one, clinging about her neck, insisted that she would forget
all her beautiful French if 'Aunt Lucile' went away. But when I heard a
brief '_Eh bien! Je reste_,' from her, it was as if a hand which had
been clutching my throat suddenly freed me again. I promised her
brother to supply his place conscientiously, and, although I was fond
of him, saw him depart with a certain sense of relief, as if he had
stood between his sister and me, and had now left the field clear.
"Yet his departure changed nothing whatever. To be sure, his room being
empty, she had her bed taken in there, and arranged the other, where
the instrument stood, as a sitting-room. We visited her there now and
then, and she often came up to our room; but duets were not mentioned.
"Indeed, she herself seemed to have lost all desire for music.
Occasionally I heard her open the piano and begin this or that
well-known piece. In the midst of it she would break off, often with a
bad discord, as if in some unusual, ill-tempered mood. It seemed as
though she began only to demand my violin as accompaniment, and proving
unsuccessful in this, found the music suddenly distasteful. Once or
twice I yielded to the temptation. But the playing excited me to such a
feverish pitch that I, too, broke off in the midst of a passage,
excusing myself afterward with an awkward pretence of an interruption,
which she did not seem to believe.
"In truth, it was just as my wife had said, I knew how much could be
confessed in music, and shuddered before the sin of betraying to this
stranger that I had lost half of my heart to her.
"I was better able to guard my words and looks. We were scarcely ever
alone together longer than a few seconds. She stayed in her room or on
the terrace outside most of the time, and in our walks in the cool of
the evening, she never left my wife's side; so that I, leading my child
by the hand, often remained a long distance behind the two women, and
pondered my strange fate without addressing a single word to her during
the entire walk.
"The evenings grew longer. The general sitting-room was not pleasant to
us; so, after dinner, we assembled alternately in her room and our own;
she and my wife with their handiwork, chatting or reading, while I
either smoked my cigar on the balcony, or read aloud from some book.
She liked to hear me read German poetry.
"My wife sketched her in many different positions. A profile sketch,
with the head sorrowfully drooping, was especially good, and I could
never look at it enough. I still remember when, at one of these
sittings, I for the first time touched her hair; until then I had not
once felt so much as the tips of her fingers in my hands. It went
through my nerves like an electric shock. There was a peculiar
fragrance about her from some costly French perfume that she used. I
knew even long afterwards if she had lingered in a place, either been
sitting in my hammock, or standing by the bookcase in the _salon_.
"One evening, as we were preparing to visit her for a little chat
before bedtime, our door suddenly opened; she rushed in, the very
picture of terror, bolted the door after her, and sinking on the
nearest chair, broke into such a storm of tears that she could not
speak. We were extremely anxious about her, but my wife at length
succeeded in calming her so far that she could tell what had occurred,
with tolerable composure.
"Somebody had come into her room without knocking; and, as she had
looked around, she had seen her husband standing in the middle of the
chamber. He had greeted her politely, asked after her health, and, when
she made no reply, seated himself on the divan, as if perfectly at
home. In spite of his subdued voice and quiet manner, she had noticed
an air of suppressed excitement about him; but, owing to her own
agitation, could not determine whether wine or some other cause
rendered his look unsteady and his voice grating and harsh. Then he had
commenced in a listless way; he would tell her the motive of his visit;
he had been robbed in a gambling house in Geneva, and was _sans le
sou_. A good friend had paid his steamer fare here. He now wished
nothing more than the means of escaping from his _guignon_, and
hospitality for that night. He would be satisfied with the sofa.
"She had given him whatever she could spare at the moment, a not
inconsiderable sum, and commanded him to leave on the instant.--Did she
expect any one? He would remember her situation, and not embarrass her.
With this he had tried to take her hand, and had looked at her with a
smile which almost congealed her blood. And as he appeared firmly
determined not to yield, she had gone out under pretence of making
arrangements for the night. She implored us to assist her, and protect
her from the rascal.
"I exchanged a glance with my wife, who had taken the weeping woman in
her arms like some sick child; and leaving them thus, I hurried
downstairs.
"I found the Count indulging in a quiet doze on the soft couch. Since
he did not hear me enter, I had sufficient leisure to observe him. His
face showed that irresistible drowsiness so apt to seize gamblers after
long excitement; the lips were pale; eyelids and nostrils, reddened.
Beyond this the perfect type of a _bel homme_, faultlessly attired and
thoroughly dissipated.
"Finally comprehending where he was, and that a stranger was facing
him, he arose composedly, and asked what I wished. I had to impart to
him only his wife's desire, that he should leave her room and the house
without delay or further sensation.
"And if he would not?
"Then the Countess would use her house-right. He regarded me with a
certain cold-blooded insolence, which, even in that painful moment,
struck me as amusing.
"He asked if I were the hotel porter; meanwhile adjusting his eye-glass
to his right eye.
"I replied that the Countess's reason for asking this service of me was
not his concern--I lived in number so-and-so, and would be at his
service next day for any satisfaction he required. For the present, I
would simply execute my commission, and hoped, for his own sake, that
he would avoid any unnecessary disturbance.
"He reflected for a while; now looking at me doubtfully with a cold,
impudent smile, now appearing resolved to remain. At length he took his
hat, murmured several unintelligible words, brought out a cigar and
lighted it from the candle on the table, bowed very civilly, and with a
'To-morrow, then,' left the room.
"I immediately closed the balcony door, and carefully fastened the
shutters. After which I returned upstairs and announced the quick
result of my mission, of course without mentioning the parting words.
The two women were sitting together on the sofa, and the Countess was
motionless and silent. She was trembling nervously from the effect of
her fright; but this ceased when my wife, who dabbled in homeopathy,
forced her to take a few of her 'wonder-drops.' Taking up a book which
we had been reading the day before, I attempted to go on with it. Not
one of us understood a word that I read.
"At ten o'clock the Countess bade my wife good-night, and allowed me to
escort her downstairs. She was tormented by the fear that he might yet
find some way of slipping in.
"'You see, the field is clear,' I said, with a smile, after I had
inspected both rooms. 'You can rest in peace!'
"'In peace!' she said, shuddering throughout her slender body--'in
peace! And at what price!' And then, coming closer to me, 'You ordered
him out. Oh, I am sure of it, otherwise he would not have gone so
quickly! And now for my miserable sake'--
"I sought to comfort her as well as I could, promising to do nothing
without her knowledge; but her distress only increased. 'Think of your
wife, of your daughter! O God! if I should be the cause--'
"I seized her hand; she sank on my breast in uncontrollable emotion;
and as if in a dream, I held her thus embraced, and felt her slender
figure trembling in my arms, yet did not even touch her hair with my
lips; in that moment all passionate impulses yielded to the deep pity
which I felt for her.
"And so, drawing myself away, I bade her a cheerful 'Good-night!' and
went to my room.
"I was obliged to quiet my wife also, for she feared that the affair
would have consequences. I myself did not believe it. I knew that in
professional gamblers all feelings, even those of honor, become
completely deadened. And I judged correctly.
"I remained at home all the following day. He neither appeared himself,
nor sent a messenger. The Countess took refuge with us, for she was in
constant fear of a surprise. The two women sat together on the balcony
with their embroidery, apparently engaged in careless conversation, but
in reality watching me. Not a word was said of that which occupied our
thoughts. When the day had passed without bloodshed, my wife
accompanied her friend to her room, and remained with her that night.
On the next day, we heard that the Count was again in Geneva, whence he
soon afterward disappeared to some other German gambling house.
"You will comprehend that this _intermezzo_ bound us still more closely
to each other. We were together nearly all day long, and I occasionally
wondered that my wife, who had formerly known all my thoughts even
before they were clear to myself, allowed, indeed, unmistakably
favored, this harmful playing with fire. She did not hesitate to leave
us _tete-a-tete_, although, as a fact, there was no enjoyment in such a
talk. I usually took refuge at such times in a stubborn silence, which,
to any third person, would have seemed veritable rudeness. I often
denied myself the pleasure of seeing her by pretending indolence,
absence of mind, or pressing business; all of which excuses were
accepted without comment. At first mild-tempered and somewhat
melancholy, she gradually became irritable and capricious. My wife,
noticing this, often reproved her gently, and, with sisterly patience
and kindliness, tried to calm her wild moods of rebellion against fate.
"My wife and I no longer spoke of her. Yet often, when I looked up from
my reading unexpectedly, I encountered a strange, questioning look in
my wife's eyes; a look such as a physician casts upon a mortally sick
man by whose bedside he watches.
"I was certainly ill, yet not so desperately but that I still sought
for a cure, though with ever-lessening hope of finding one. Music, to
which I resorted in the hope of relief, poured oil upon the flames.
After I had played an hour or two alone, the piano below would begin
its reply, so it was not a conversation or duet, but a discourse in
long monologues. Surrendering to this dangerous comfort on two
mornings, I ended in a species of intoxication. I then tried the effect
of separation, and arranged a climbing party which kept me away over
night. Then I felt the truth of what I told you at first; the new
passion was equal to the old, but not stronger. I missed them both with
the same longing--indeed, could no longer separate them in my thoughts.
When I saw them again, I felt the same heart-throbs twice. I was not
then so philosophical that I could accept this as something rational
and ordinary; it was strange and unprecedented, yet I felt that it was
not immoral. It harmed no one, and far from estranging me from myself,
rather enriched my inner life. No, it was not immoral, though I
realized, at the time, that it was a great misfortune, and would become
a sin if it undermined my dear wife's peace and happiness. I tried to
find some way of escape, though I knew it would be at the price of
killing or forever stifling half of my heart.
"We lived thus for about fourteen days after her brother's departure,
each day bringing something new, either a trip on the boat or a walk to
a neighboring place, when, one afternoon, we arranged to meet at the
landing-place below the garden, and make a boat-trip to Chillon. I was
first. I had hired a boat in Vernex from a boatman who allowed me to
take his son, a powerful fellow, fourteen years of age, as rower. The
Countess came soon after, dressed in a black barege-cloth garment
through whose fine meshes her beautiful arms and shoulders were plainly
visible; she wore a flower in her hair, and carried her straw hat on
her arm. I had never seen her so beautiful, or so pale.
"'You are ill,' I said; 'you are suffering from the sultriness.'
"'What does it matter?' she replied; 'I am suffering from something
worse--from living. Where is your wife?'
"My wife came as I was helping her friend into the boat, but came
without the child. She was not well, my wife said. She complained of
headache, and wished her mother to remain at home with her; then, too,
the weather was uncertain. We immediately arose, preparing to get out
of the boat. But this my wife would not allow. There was not a shadow
of danger or cause for worry; I knew how our darling was troubled; she
would sit with her and read something aloud; and she wished us a
pleasant day. After giving the skiff a little push with her foot, she
went back to the house; and although neither of us, as we glided out
over the waves, felt pleased or at ease in this forced _tete-a-tete_,
neither one had the ready courage to confess it at once and return to
land.
"I took the second pair of oars and pulled as vigorously as if for a
wager, though in reality it was in order to be excused from
conversation. She was sitting nearly opposite me, but I could see only
her little feet and the edge of her dress, for I kept my eyes
obstinately cast down. Suddenly she began to speak of my wife, making a
long, passionate declaration of love for her. She spoke at first of her
goodness and warm-heartedness, of her fine mind, her strong and ready
will; every word was true, a perfect portrait of her deepest nature.
Then she described her appearance, feature by feature, with the
idealizing penetration of a lover, and after I had listened for a long
while, she asked me how I had learned to know her. I then told her of
our first meeting; and as I recalled everything, I felt deep gratitude
and happiness that nothing had changed; that my good star had given me
even more than it had then promised; that even the woman opposite me
could alter nothing. We were speaking French, and the words almost
escaped me, '_Rien n'est change; il n'y a qu'un amour de plus._'
"I restrained myself, however, and, instead, rose from my seat,
extended my hand to her, and said, 'I thank you for having learned to
know and love her so.'
"Her hand lay in mine like that of a corpse. We did not venture far out
into the lake, for it was already beginning to roughen. You know how
quickly it breaks from the deepest calm to the wildest uproar; and a
dark cloud, toward which our boatman from time to time cast a watchful
glance, was even then appearing above the Savoyard mountains.
Therefore, as we stepped out upon the rocks near the Castle of Chillon,
and saw the first breakers with their narrow silvery crests surging
against the shore, I proposed to return on foot. She regarded me with a
look which strangely transformed her face, but which had still greater
power over me than her usual gentle and kindly expression.
"'Do you fear the storm?'
"'Not for myself,' I said, 'I can swim like a fish. But it is my duty
to bring you home in safety.'
"'I release you from that obligation. Whoever is to suffer, does not
die. Come! Turn, the boat around.'
"'Very well,' said I, '_vogue la galere_!'
"And then we pushed out through the angry, swelling waves, while the
air about us grew ever darker, and the houses at Montreux gleamed above
us in dazzling sunshine. Muffled thunder came from the peaks beyond,
but as yet no drops fell. As we were then rowing, we would reach home
in half an hour. No one spoke a word. She had drawn her veil half over
her face. I could see only her pale mouth. Her lips were slightly
parted, and I saw them quiver now and then, more from scorn than pain.
Suddenly she arose and hurried over the seats to the stern, where the
boatman sat at the rudder.
"'What are you going to do?' I cried.
"'Nothing wrong. I merely wish to relieve the boatman for a while. I
understand how, perfectly well.'
"Before I could interfere, she had taken the rudder from the boy's hand
and seated herself in his place. I was somewhat disturbed at this, as
her voice sounded unnatural. But, in order to lose no time, I let her
remain there, and redoubled my own exertions. In a short time, I saw
that she had given the boat a direction which drove it into the very
midst of the raging lake. Yet her delicate arms had so much strength
that, in spite of my efforts, I could not turn the boat back again.
Suddenly I realized that she was doing this with a clear purpose.
"'You are steering falsely,' I cried to her. 'I beg you, for God's
sake, give up the rudder. We are in the very centre of the storm.'
"'Do you mean it?' she answered softly. 'I thought you had no fear.
Only look at the beautiful waves. They do nothing unkind; they receive
one in their arms more gently than mankind. Look, look! Could anything
be merrier!'
"A large wave broke over us; we were instantly wet to the skin.
The first sharp flash of lightning darted down from the black
mountain-wall.
"I could not leave the oars; I bade the boy take the rudder again; he
shrugged his shoulders, and pointed to the Countess. Undisturbed by
everything about her, she was staring wildly into the distance. We were
already so far from shore that the houses were scarcely distinguishable
through the gray storm-twilight. Some action was imperative. Standing
up, I motioned the boatman to take my oars, and strode, wavering and
staggering, to the other end of the skiff. Her eyes met mine through
the veil with a stubborn, threatening look.
"'Be reasonable!' I said in German; 'I shall not suffer this any
longer. Give me the rudder, will you? Well then--' Seizing her hands
with a quick movement, I pressed them so hard that she released the
rudder. I held her thus for a moment, although I must have hurt her.
She gave no sign of pain, but gazed steadily into my eyes with a look
of hate or the deepest rage. Then her face changed; her month trembled;
her eyes closed with an expression of unutterable misery and despair;
as I freed her hands, she threw herself at my feet, and I heard a
stifled sob and the words, '_Pardonnez-moi! Je suis une folle!_'
"I seized the rudder, and, in my distress and bewilderment, could only
whisper to her that she must control herself and rise again. In a few
moments she was once more seated on the bench, but this time with
averted face and bowed head. I did not speak to her again, for I was
obliged to exert all my strength to bring the boat back into the right
course, and to steer for the land. But the brief scene affected me so
powerfully, that one thought was continually uppermost in my mind--what
rapture it would have been, amid this wild upheaval of the elements, to
clasp her close, and with her go to the bottom!
"The storm helped us, and we landed much sooner than I had expected.
Springing out first, I offered to assist her, but she refused my aid
and jumped out on the beach without help. She was trembling through and
through in her wet clothes. I asked if she were ill, but she shook her
head. Yet she took my arm as I accompanied her back to the house.
"My wife was standing on the balcony, and welcomed us cheerily. She had
been greatly worried about us. She would come down and help her friend
undress.
"'Oh, no, no!' cried the Countess, withdrawing her arm from mine, 'I
need nothing, thank you--good-night!'
"Thereupon she hurried away from me, without so much as a backward
glance or a wave of the hand. I followed slowly; I felt very much
exhausted, and went upstairs still staggering from the motion of the
boat. The storm was entirely over; a crimson sunset glow filled our
room. My wife had already laid out dry clothing for me; she received me
in her usual quietly affectionate manner and then left me alone, for I
had to dress myself from head to feet. It did not occur to me that she
said very little, and asked for no detailed account of our adventure in
the boat. My own feelings were absorbed by my recent experience, and I
changed my clothes mechanically, as if in a dream.
"Then I remembered the child. As I entered the other room, I saw the
little one sleeping in an arm-chair near the open window. My wife
whispered to me that she had given her some medicine, which had caused
her to fall asleep during the reading. I might go to dinner alone; she
herself had no appetite, and would content herself with a cup of tea.
"So I went down, although I also would have preferred to remain away
from the table. I had no wish to sit alone opposite Lucile. But this
ordeal was spared me. She too remained in her chamber. I did not speak
a word during the lengthy dinner. I usually smoked my after-dinner
cigar in the garden. By doing so I did not separate myself from the
women, but could chat back and forth with them; for though of late both
had been together, the Countess usually sat at her window or on the
terrace, and my wife on the balcony above. Tonight, balcony and terrace
were empty, and I soon withdrew to the most remote part of the garden.