"Under any other circumstances," said Jacques, "I should have taken one of the two public roads in going to Valpinson. But troubled, as Iwas, by vague suspicions, I thought only of concealing myself and cut across the marshes. They were partly overflowed; but I counted upon my intimate familiarity with the ground, and my agility. I thought, moreover, that here I should certainly not be seen, and should meet no one. In this I was mistaken. When I reached the Seille Canal, and was just about to cross it, I found myself face to face with young Ribot, the son of a farmer at Brechy. He looked so very much surprised at seeing me in such a place, that I thought to give him some explanation; and, rendered stupid by my troubles, I told him I had business at Brechy, and was crossing the marshes to shoot some birds.
" 'If that is so,' he replied, laughing, 'we are not after the same kind of game.'
"He went his way; but this accident annoyed me seriously. I continued on my way, swearing, I fear, at young Ribot, and found that the path became more and more dangerous. It was long past nine when I reached Valpinson at last. But the night was clear, and I became more cautious than ever.
"The place which the countess had chosen for our meeting was about two hundred yards from the house and the farm buildings, sheltered by other buildings, and quite close to the wood. I approached it through this wood.
"Hid among the trees, I was examining the ground, when I noticed the countess standing near one of the old towers: she wore a simple costume of light muslin, which could be seen at a distance. Finding every thing quiet, I went up to her; and, as soon as she saw me, she said,--" 'I have been waiting for you nearly an hour.'
"I explained to her the difficulties I had met with on my way there;and then I asked her,--
" 'But where is your husband?'
" 'He is laid up with rheumatism,' she replied.
" 'Will he not wonder at your absence?'
" 'No: he knows I am sitting up with my youngest daughter. I left the house through the little door of the laundry.'
"And, without giving me time to reply, she asked,--" 'Where are my letters?'
" 'Here they are,' I said, handing them to her.
"She took them with feverish haste, saying in an undertone,--" 'There ought to be twenty-four.'
"And, without thinking of the insult, she went to work counting them.
" 'They are all here,' she said when she had finished.
"Then, drawing a little package from her bosom, she added,--" 'And here are yours.'
"But she did not give them to me.
" 'We'll burn them,' she said.
"I started with surprise.
" 'You cannot think of it,' I cried, 'here, and at this hour. The fire would certainly be seen.'
" 'What? Are you afraid? However, we can go into the wood. Come, give me some matches.'
"I felt in my pockets; but I had none.
" 'I have no matches,' I said.
" 'Oh, come!--you who smoke all day long,--you who, even in my presence, could never give up your cigars.'
" 'I left my match-box, yesterday, at M. de Chandore's.'
"She stamped her foot vehemently.
" 'Since that is so, I'll go in and get some.'
"This would have delayed us, and thus would have been an additional imprudence. I saw that I must do what she wanted, and so I said,--" 'That is not necessary. Wait!'
"All sportsmen know that there is a way to replace matches. I employed the usual means. I took a cartridge out of my gun, emptied it and its shot, and put in, instead a piece of paper. Then, resting my gun on the ground, so as to prevent a loud explosion, I made the powder flash up.
"We had fire, and put the letters to the flame.
"A few minutes later, and nothing was left of them but a few blackened fragments, which I crumbled in my hands, and scattered to the winds.
Immovable, like a statue, the Countess Claudieuse had watched my operations.
" 'And that is all,' she said, 'that remains of five years of our life, of our love, and of your vows,--ashes.'
"I replied by a commonplace remark. I was in a hurry to be gone.
"She felt this, and cried with great vehemence,--" 'Ah! I inspire you with horror.'
" 'We have just committed a marvellous imprudence,' I said.
" 'Ah! what does it matter?'
"Then, in a hoarse voice, she added,--
" 'Happiness awaits you, and a new life full of intoxicating hopes: it is quite natural that you should tremble. I, whose life is ended, and who have nothing to look for,--I, in whom you have killed every hope,--I am not afraid.'
"I saw her anger rising within her, and said very quietly,--" 'I hope you do not repent of your generosity, Genevieve.'
" 'Perhaps I do,' she replied, in an accent which made me tremble.
'How you must laugh at me! What a wretched thing a woman is who is abandoned, who resigns, and sheds tears!'
"Then she went on fiercely,--
" 'Confess that you have never loved me really!'
" 'Ah, you know very well the contrary!'
" 'Still you abandon me for another,--for that Dionysia!'
" 'You are married: you cannot be mine.'
" 'Then if I were free--if I had been a widow'--" 'You would be my wife you know very well.'
"She raised her arms to heaven, like a drowning person; and, in a voice which I thought they could hear at the house, she cried,--" 'His wife! If I were a widow, I would be his wife! O God! Luckily, that thought, that terrible thought, never occurred to me before.' "All of a sudden, at these words, the eminent advocate of Sauveterre rose from his chair, and, placing himself before Jacques de Boiscoran, he asked, looking at him with one of those glances which seem to pierce our innermost heart,--"And then?"
Jacques had to summon all the energy that was left him to be able to continue with a semblance of calmness, at least,--"Then I tried every thing in the world to quiet the countess, to move her, and bring her back to the generous feelings of former days. I was so completely upset that I hardly knew what I was saying. I hated her bitterly, and still I could not help pitying her. I am a man; and there is no man living who would not feel deeply moved at seeing himself the object of such bitter regrets and such terrible despair.
