Part 2 (2/2)
”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 G.o.d! 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 pa.s.sionate 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sion 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, pa.s.sionate 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 grat.i.tude 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 sh.o.r.e, 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.'
<script>