Part 67 (1/2)
”Poor creature! she takes this to heart far more heavily than I could have thought;” and then, seeing that the words were not quite intelligible to me, he added, ”Yes, mon cher Gregoire, I am a bachelor once more; Madame the Countess has left me! Weary of a life of poverty to which she had been so long unaccustomed, she has returned to the world again--to the stage, perhaps--who knows?” added he, with a careless indifference, and as though dismissing the theme from his thoughts forever.
I had never liked him, but at no time of our intercourse did he appear so thoroughly odious to me as when he uttered these words.
There is some strange fatality in the way our characters are frequently impressed by circ.u.mstances and intimacies which seem the veriest accidents. We linger in some baneful climate till it has made its fatal inroad on our health; and so we as often dally amidst a.s.sociations fully as dangerous and deadly. In this way did I continue to live on with Ysaffich, daily resolving to leave him, and yet, by some curious chain of events, bound up inseparably with his fortunes. At one moment his poverty was the tie between us We supported ourselves by the _cha.s.se_, a poor and most precarious livelihood, and one which we well knew would fail us when the spring came. At other moments he would gain an influence over me by the exercise of that sanguine, hopeful spirit which seemed never to desert him. He saw, or affected to see, that the great drama of revolution which closed the century in France must yet be played out over the length and breadth of Europe, and that in this great piece the chief actors would be those who had all to gain and nothing to lose by the convulsion. ”We shall have good parts in the play, Gregoire,” would he repeat to me, time after time, till he thoroughly filled my mind with ambitions that rose far above the region of all probability, and, worse still, that utterly silenced every whisper of conscience within me.
Had he attempted to corrupt me by the vulgar ideas of wealth,--by the splendor of a life of luxurious ease and enjoyment, with all the appliances of riches,--it is more than likely he would have failed. He however a.s.sailed me by my weak side: the delight I always experienced in acts of protection and benevolence--the pleasure I felt in being regarded by others as their good genius--this was a flattery that never ceased to sway me! The selfishness of such a part lay so hidden from view; there was a plausibility in one's conviction of being good and amiable,--that the enjoyment became really of a higher order than usually waits on mere egotism. I had been long estranged from the world, so far as the ties of affection and friends.h.i.+p existed. For me there was neither home nor family, and yet I yearned for what would bind me to the cause of my fellow-men. All my thoughts were now centred on this object, and innumerable were the projects by which I amused my imagination about it. Ysaffich perhaps detected this clew to my confidence. At all events, he made it the pivot of all reasonings with me. To be powerless with good intentions--to have the ”will” to work for good, and yet want the ”way”--was, he would say, about the severest torture poor humanity could be called on to endure. When he had so far imbued my mind with these notions that he found me not only penetrated with his own views, but actually employing his own reasonings, his very expressions, to maintain them, he then advanced a step further; and this was to demonstrate that to every success in life there was a compromise attached, as inseparable as were shadow and substance.
”Was there not,” he would say, ”a compensation attached to every great act of statesmans.h.i.+p, to every brilliant success in war,--in fact, to every grand achievement, wherever and however accomplished? It is simply a question of weighing the evil against the good, whatever we do in life; and he is the best of us who has the largest balance in the scales of virtue.”
When a subtle theory takes possession of the mind, it is curious to mark with what ingenuity examples will suggest themselves to sustain and support it. Ysaffich possessed a ready memory, and never failed to supply me with ill.u.s.trations of his system. There was scarcely a good or great name of ancient or modern times that he could not bring within this category; and many an hour have we pa.s.sed in disputing the claims of this one or that to be accounted as the benefactor or the enemy of mankind. If I recall these memories now, it is simply to show the steps by which a mind far more subtle and acute than my own succeeded in establis.h.i.+ng its influence over me.
I have said that we were very poor; our resources were derived from the scantiest of all supplies; and even these, as the spring drew nigh, showed signs of failure. If I at times regarded our future with gloomy antic.i.p.ations, my companion never did so. On the contrary, his hopeful spirit seemed to rise under the pressure of each new sufferance, and he constantly cheered me by saying, ”The tide must ebb soon.” It is true, this confidence did not prevent him suggesting various means by which we might eke out a livelihood.
”It is the same old story over again,” said he to me one day, as we sat at our meal of dry bread and water. ”Archimedes could have moved the world had he had a support whereon to station his lever, and so with me; I could at this very moment rise to wealth and power, could I but find a similar appliance. There is a million to be made on the Bourse of Amsterdam any morning, if one only could pay for a courier who should arrive at speed from the Danube with the news of a defeat of the French army. A lighted tar-barrel in the midst of the English fleet at Spithead would n't cost a deal of money, and yet might do great things towards changing the fortunes of mankind. And even here,” added he, taking a letter from his pocket, ”even here are the means of wealth and fortune to both of us, if I could rely on you for the requisite energy and courage to play your part.”
”I have at least had courage to share your fortunes,” said I, half angrily; ”and even that much might exempt me from the reproach of cowardice.”
Not heeding my taunt in the slightest, he resumed his speech with slow and deliberate words:--
”I found this paper last night by a mere accident, when looking over some old letters; but, unfortunately, it is not accompanied by any other doc.u.ment which could aid us, though I have searched closely to discover such.”
So often had it been my fate to hear him hold forth on similar themes--on incidents which lacked but little, the veriest trifle, to lead to fortune--that I confess I paid slight attention to his words, and scarcely heard him as he went on describing how he had chanced upon his present discovery, when he suddenly startled me by saying,--
”And yet, even now, if you were of the stuff to dare it, there is wherewithal in that letter to make you a great man, and both of us rich ones.”
Seeing that he had at least secured my attention, he went on:--
”You remember the first time we ever met, Gervois, and the evening of our arrival at Hamburg. Well, on that same night there occurred to me the thought of making your fortune and my own; and when I shall have explained to you how, you will probably look less incredulous than you now do. You may remember that the first husband of Madame von Geysiger was a rich merchant of Hamburg. Well, there chanced to be in his employment a certain English clerk who conducted all his correspondence with foreign countries,--a man of great business knowledge and strict probity, and by whose means Von Geysiger once escaped the risk of total bankruptcy. Full of grat.i.tude for his services, Von Geysiger wished to give him a partners.h.i.+p in the house; but however flattering the prospect for one of humble means, he positively rejected the offer; and when pressed for his reasons for so doing, at last owned that he could not consistently pledge himself to adhere to the fortunes of his benefactor, since he had in heart devoted his life to another object,--one for which he then only labored to obtain means to prosecute. I do not believe that the secret to which he alluded was divulged at the time, nor even for a long while after, but at length it came out that this poor fellow had no other aim in life than to find out the heir to a certain great estate in England which had lapsed from its rightful owner, and to obtain the doc.u.ment which should establish his claim. To this end he had a.s.sociated himself with some relative of the missing youth,--a lady of rank, I have heard tell, and of considerable personal attractions, who had braved poverty and hards.h.i.+p of the severest kind in the pursuit of this one object. I do not know where they had not travelled, nor what amount of toil they had not bestowed on this search. Occasionally, allured by some apparent clew, they had visited the most remote parts of the Continent; and at last, acting on some information derived from one of their many agents, they left Europe for America. That the pursuit is still unsuccessful, an advertis.e.m.e.nt that I saw, a few days back, in a Dutch newspaper, a.s.sures me. A large reward is there offered for any one who can give certain information as to the surviving relatives of a French lady,--the name I forget, but which at the time I remembered as one of those connected with this story. And now, to apply the case to yourself, there were so many circ.u.mstances of similitude in the fortunes of this youth and your own life that it occurred to me, and not alone to me, but to another, to make you his representative.”
For a moment I scarcely knew whether to be indignant or amused at this shameless avowal; but the absurdity overcame my anger, and I laughed long and heartily at it.
”Laugh if you will, my dear Gervois,” said he; ”but you are not the first, nor will you be the last, kite who has roosted in the eagle's nest. Take my word for it, with all the cares and provisions of law, it is seldom enough that the rightful heir sits in the hall of his fathers; and, in the present case, we know that the occupant is a mere pretender; so that your claim, or mine, if you like it, is fully as good as his to be there.”
”You have certainly excited my curiosity on one point,” said I, ”and it is to know where the resemblance lies between this gentleman's case and my own; pray tell me that!”
”Easily enough,” said he, ”and from the very papers in my hand: a mixed parentage, French and English--a father of one country, a mother of another--a life of sc.r.a.pes and vicissitudes; but, better than all, a position so isolated that none can claim you. There, my dear Gervois, there is the best feature in the whole case; and if I could only inspire your heart with a dash of the ambitious daring that fills my own, it is not on a straw bed nor a starvation diet we should speculate over the future before us. Just fancy, if you can, the glorious life of ease and enjoyment that would reward us if we succeed; and as to failure, conjure up, if you are able, anything worse than this;” and as he spoke he made a gesture with his hand towards the wretched furniture of our humble chamber.
”You seem to exclude from your calculation all question of right and wrong,” said I, ”of justice or injustice.”
”I have already told you that he who now enjoys this estate is not its real owner. It is, to all purposes, a disputed territory, where the strongest may plant his flag,--yours to-day; another may advance to the conquest to-morrow. I only say that to fellows like us, who, for aught I see, may have to take the high-road for a livelihood, this chance is not to be despised.”
”Then why not yourself attempt it?”
”For two sufficient reasons. I am a Pole, and my nationality can be proved; and, secondly, I am full ten years too old: this youth was born about the year 1782.”
”The very year of my own birth!” said I.
”By Jove, Gervois! everything would seem to aid us. There is but one deficiency,” added he, after a pause, and a look towards me of such significance that I could not misunderstand it.
”I know what you mean,” said I; ”the want lies in me,--in my lack of energy and courage. I might, perhaps, give another name to it,” added I, after waiting in vain for some reply on his part, ”and speak of reluctance to become a swindler.”