With his chin upon his knees and his head buried in his hands,Stephane was crouching at the feet of the holy images.Hearing and perceiving Gilbert,he started,raised himself quickly and remained motionless,his hands crossed above his head,his neck extended,his lips quivering and opening with a smile,lightnings and tears in his eyes.How paint the strangeness of his countenance?Athousand diverse emotions betrayed themselves there.Surprise,gratitude,shame,anxiety,long expectation at last satisfied;a remnant of haughtiness which felt its defeat certain;an obstinate incredulity forced to surrender;the disorder of an imagination,enchanted,rapt,distracted,the delights of hope and the bitterness of memory;all these appeared upon his face,and formed a melange so confused that to see him thus laughing and crying at once,it seemed as if it was his joy which wept and his sadness which smiled.His first agitation dispelled,the predominating expression of his face was a dreamy and startled sweetness.He moved backwards from Gilbert and fell upon a chair at the end of the room.
"Do I intrude?Must I go away?"asked Gilbert,still standing.
Stephane made no answer.
"Evidently my face does not please you,"continued Gilbert,half turning towards the window.
Stephane contracted his brows.
"Do not trifle,I beg of you,"said he,in a hollow voice."We have serious matters between us to discuss.""The seriousness which I prefer is that of joy."Stephane passed his thin and taper hands nervously through his hair.
"Joy?"said he."It will come,perhaps,in its time,through speaking to me about it,who knows?Now I seem to be dreaming.
The disorder of my thoughts frightens me.Ask me no questions,for I should not know how to answer you.And then the sound of my voice mortifies me,irritates me.It is like a discord in music.
Let me be silent and look at you."
And approaching a long table which stood in the middle of the room,he signalled to Gilbert to place himself at one side of it and seated himself at the other.
After a long silence,he began to express his thoughts audibly,as if he had become reconciled to the sound of his voice:
"This bold,resolute air,so much pride in the look,so much goodness in the smile.It is another man.Ah!into what contempt have I fallen.I have seen nothing,divined nothing.I despised him,I hated him,--this one whom God has sent to save me from despair.See what was concealed under this simple unaffected air;this serene face,whose calmness irritated me;this gentleness which seemed servile;this wisdom which I thought pedantry;this pliancy of disposition which I took for the meanness of a crouching dog.All this I can it really be the same man!"He was silent for a moment and then continued in a more assured voice:
"How did you manage to reach here?Ah!my God!that great roof is so steep!Only to think of it makes me shudder and sets my head to whirling.While waiting I prayed to the saints for you.Did you feel their aid?I should like to know whether they stood by me in this.They have so often broken faith."Silence again,during which Stephane looked at Gilbert with a steadiness sufficient to disconcert him.
"So you have risked your life for me!"continued the young man;"but are you quite sure that I am worth the trouble?Come now,be frank.Has anyone spoken to you of me?Or have you,by studying my character,made some interesting discovery?Answer,and be careful not to lie.My eyes are upon you,they will readily discover if you are sincere.""Really,you astonish me,"answered Gilbert tranquilly;"and what have I to conceal from you?All I know resolves itself into two points.In the first place,I know that you belong to the race,to the brotherhood of noble souls;I know,besides,that you are unhappy.--Pardon me,I know another thing still.I know beyond a doubt that I have conceived a lively and tender friendship for you,and that I should be very unhappy,too,if I could not expect any return from you.""You feel friendship for me?How can that be?""Ah!a strange question!Who has ever been able to answer it?It is the mystery of mysteries.I love you,because I love you:Iknow of no other explanation.You have certainly never made any very flattering advances to me.I think I have sometimes even had cause to complain of you.
"Ah,well!in spite of your scorn,of your haughtiness,of your injustice,I loved you.Ask the secret of this anomaly of Him who created man,and who planted in his heart that mysterious power which is called sympathy.""Why,"said Stephane,"was not this sympathy reciprocal?As for me,from the first day I saw you I hated you.I do not know with what eyes I looked at you,but I thought that I recognized an enemy.Alas!suspicion and distrust invaded my heart long ago.
And mark,even at this moment I still doubt,I fear I may be the dupe of some illusion:I believe and I do not believe,and I am tempted to exclaim with one of the Holy Evangelists,'My patron,my brother,my friend,I believe,help thou mine unbelief!'""Your incredulity will cure itself,and be sure,a day will come when you will say with confidence:there is in this world a soul,sister of my own,into which I can fearlessly pour all my cares,all my thoughts,all my sorrows and all my hopes.There is one who occupies himself unceasingly about me,to whom my happiness is of great moment,of supreme interest,a being to whom I can say all,confess all;a being who loves me because he knows me,and who knows me because he loves me;a being who sees with me,who sees in me,and who would not hesitate,if necessary,to sacrifice everything,even his life,upon the holy altar of friendship.And then could you not cry out in the joy of your heart:'God he praised!I possess a friend!By the blessing of God I have learned what it is to love and to be loved."Stephane began to weep:
"To be loved!"said he."It is a great word and I hardly dare to pronounce it.To be loved!I have never been.I believe,though,that my mother loved me,--what do I say?I am sure of it,but it was a long time ago.My mother,--it is like a legend to me.It seems to me I was not born when I knew her.I remember that she often took me upon her knees and covered me with kisses.Such joys are not of this world;I must have tasted them in some distant star,where hearts are less hard than here,and where I lived some time,a sojourn of peace and innocence.But one day my mother dropped me from her arms,and I was thrown upon this earth where hatred expected me and received me in her bosom.Oh,hatred!Iknow her!This second mother cradled me in her arms,nourished me with her milk,lavished upon me her careful lessons and watched over me night and day.Ah!hatred is a marvelous providence.It sees everything,thinks of everything,notices everything,is omnipresent,always on the alert,unconscious of fatigue,ennui,or sleep.Hatred!she is the mistress of this castle,she governs it;these great corridors are full of her.I cannot take a step without meeting her;even here in this solitary room I see her image floating upon the paneling,upon the tapestry,about the curtains of this bed,and often at night in my sleep,she comes and sits upon my breast and peoples my dreams with specters and terrors.To be hated without knowing wherefore,--what torment!
And remember,too,that in my early infancy,this father who hates me was then a father to me.He rarely caressed me and I feared him;he was imperious and severe;but he was a father after all,and occasionally he took the trouble to tell us so.Often in our presence his gravity relaxed,and I recollect that he sometimes smiled upon me.But one day,a cursed day,--I was then ten years old;my mother had been dead a month.--He was shut up in his room while a week passed,during which I did not see him.I said to my governess:'I want to see my father.'I knocked at his door,entered,and ran to him.He repelled me with such violence that Ifell and struck my head against the leg of a chair.I got up bleeding,and he looked at me with scorn,laughed,and left the room.My mind wandered,all my ideas were thrown into confusion;Ithought the sun had gone out and that the world had come to an end.
A father who could laugh at the sight of the blood gushing from his child!And what a laugh!He has made me hear it often since,but I have not been able to accustom myself to it yet.A fever attacked me,and I became delirious.They put me to bed,and Icried to those who took care of me:'I am cold,I am cold,make me warm.'And in that icy body I felt a heart that seemed on fire,which consumed itself.I could have sworn that a red-hot iron had been passed into it."Stephane dried his tears with a curl of his hair,and then,leaning with his elbows upon the table,he resumed in a feeble voice:"I do not want you to be deceived.You entertain friendship for me and you ask a return;that is very simple,friendship lives by exchange.If I had nothing to give you,you would soon cease to love me.Listen to me then.Yesterday,for the first time in my life,I went into myself,--a singular fancy,which you alone have been able to inspire in me;for the first time I examined myself seriously,I laid hold of my heart with both hands,and examined it as a physician does his patient;I carried my researches even to the very bottom,and I recognized there a strange barrenness and blight,which frightened me.It has been suffering a long time,--this poor heart;but within a year a fearful crisis has passed within me,which has killed it.And now there is nothing in this breast but a handful of ashes,good for nothing but to be thrown out of the window and scattered in the air.
"What!you are orthodox,"said Gilbert,in a tone of authority;"you believe in the saints after your own fashion,and nevertheless you have yet to learn that death is but a word,or better,a respite,a pause in life,a fallow time followed by fresh harvests.
You are ignorant of the fact,or you forget,that there are no ashes so cold but that when the wind of the spirit breathes upon them,they will be seen to start,rise up,and walk.You have left to me the care of teaching you that your soul is capable of rejuvenescence,of unexpected regeneration;that upon the sole condition that you wish and desire it,you will feel unknown powers awakened in your breast,and that without changing your nature,but by transforming yourself from day to day,you will become to yourself an eternal novelty!
Stephane looked at him,smiling.
"So you have crossed the roofs to come and preach conversion to me,like Father Alexis!""Conversion!I don't know.I don't undertake to work miracles;but the metamorphosis--""You speak to me much about my soul;but my life,my destiny,will you also find the secret of transforming them?""That secret we will seek together.I have already some light upon it.Only let us not press it.Before undertaking that great work,it is essential that your heart should recover its health and strength.""Ingrate that I am!"cried Stephane."My destiny!It has changed from to-day.Yes,from this moment I am no longer alone in the world.Frightful void in which I consumed myself,despair who with your frightful wings made it night for an abandoned child,it is all over now,I am delivered from you;the instrument of torture is broken.Henceforth,I believe,I hope,I breathe!But think of it,my friend,for me to live will be to see you,to hear you,to speak to you.Could you come here often?""As often as prudence will permit,--two or three times a week.We will choose our days well;we will consult the sky,the wind,the stars.On other days,at propitious hours,we will place ourselves at our windows,and communicate by signs which we will agree upon,for it seems that you,like me,are long-sighted.And besides,Iknow the sign language.I will teach it to you,and if you ever send me such a message as this upon your fingers:'I am sad,I am sick,come this evening at any risk'--Well,whatever the winds and stars may say--""To expose your life foolishly!"interrupted Stephane,"I would rather die.Curses upon me if ever by a caprice--But away with such a thought!And how long,if you please,will this happiness,which you promise me,last?Some day,alas!retaking your liberty--""I have two,perhaps three years to pass here;it will even depend upon me whether I stay longer or not.Whatever happens,be assured,that before I leave this house,your destiny will have changed.I have told you to believe in the seen;believe also in the unforseen.""The unforeseen!"exclaimed Stephane,"I believe in it,since Ihave seen it enter here by the window."
And suddenly carrying his hand to his heart,he closed his eyes,became pale,and uttered a piteous moan.Gilbert sprang towards him,but repulsing him gently:
"Fear nothing,"said he;"joy has come,I feel it there,it burns me.Let me enjoy a suffering so new and so sweet."He remained some minutes with his eyes closed;then reopening them,and shaking his beautiful head with its long curls,he said sportively:
"Sit down there quick,and teach me the deaf mute language.""Impossible,"replied Gilbert;"the hour for going has already struck."Stephane impatiently stamped his foot.
"Teach me at least the first two letters;if I don't know a and b,I shall not be able to close my eyes to-night."Gilbert,taking him by the arm,led him to the window,where,drawing aside the curtain,he pointed out to him the stars already paling and a vague whiteness which appeared at the horizon.Then suddenly changing his tone,but still carried away by his impetuous nature,which stamped upon all the movements of his mind the character of passion,Stephane became much excited at the idea of the dangers which his friend was about to brave.
"I will go with you,"said he,"I want to know what risks you run in coming here.To descend from the large roof to the small one,you must have had a ladder.I want to see this ladder,I want to assure myself that it is strong.""Do not be afraid,I have attended to that.""When I tell you that I wish to see it!I will believe only my own eyes and hands.Where is this ladder?I positively must see it.""And I forbid you to climb this window.Take my word,my rope ladder is entirely new and very strong.""Ah!"exclaimed Stephane,struck with a sudden idea."I will bet that you have fastened it to that great iron corbel,which stretches its frightful beak up there at the angle of the wall.
And just now you were suspended in space on this treacherous floating cord.Monstrous fool that I was not to understand it."And to Gilbert's great astonishment,he added:
"You do not yet love me enough to have the right to run such risks.""Do be a little calmer,"said Gilbert."You displayed just now a gentleness and wisdom which enchanted me.Take care;Ivan might wake and come up.""These walls are deafened,the flagging is thick;between this room and the staircase there is an alcove,a vestibule,and two large closed doors;and between the rail of this staircase and the cage of my jailer,there is a long corridor.Besides,he is capable of everything but rambling at night round my apartment;but what matters it?--Let him come to surprise us,this hateful Ivan!Iwill resign myself to everything rather than see you put your feet upon that horrible ladder again.And take my word for it,if you violate my injunction,--at that very moment before your eyes,Iwill throw myself headlong down the precipice.""You are extremely unreasonable,"replied Gilbert,in a severe tone;"I must leave here at any cost.Since my ladder displeases you,instead of uttering a thousand follies,try rather to discover--"Stephen struck his forehead.
"Here is my discovery,"interrupted he;"opposite this window,on the other side of the roof,there is another,which,if you can only open it,will certainly let you into some empty lofts.Where these lofts will take you I don't exactly know,for Ivan told me once when he wanted to store some broken furniture there,that he had not been able to find the entrance;but you will no doubt discover some window near,by which you can get out upon the great roof,half-way from your turret,and so you will be spared a great deal of trouble and danger.Ah!if this proves so,how proud Ishall be of finding it out."
"Now you are as I like to see you,"said Gilbert;"instead of prancing like a badly-bitted horse,you are calm,and you reason.""So to reward me you will permit me to accompany you.""God forbid!and if you presume to go without my permission,Iswear to you that I will never come here again."And as Stephane resisted and chafed,Gilbert took his head between his hands,and drawing him to his breast,pressed a paternal kiss on his forehead,just at the roots of his hair.This kiss produced an extraordinary effect,which alarmed him;Stephane shuddered from head to foot,and a cry escaped him.
"Awkward fellow that I am,"said Gilbert in an uneasy tone;"I have wounded you without intending it.""No,"murmured he,"it is of no consequence;but that was the place where my mother used to kiss me.May the saints be with you.Ilove you.Good-bye!"
And thus speaking he covered his face which was on fire,with both hands.
Ah!if Gilbert had understood!But he divined nothing;he descended to the roof,crossed it,and discovered as he groped about,a window,all the panes of which were broken;which saved him the trouble of opening it.When he found himself in the lofts,he lighted the candle which he had taken the precaution to bring in his pocket.The place which he had just entered was a wretched garret,three or four feet wide.In front of him he noticed four or five steps,ascended them,and opened an old door without any fastening.This let him into a vast corridor,which had no visible place of exit at the other end;it was infested by spiders and rats,and encumbered with dilapidated old furniture.Gilbert discovered,on raising his eyes,that he was in the mansard,lighted by the great dormer window.The bolt which held the shutter was so high up that he could not reach it with his hand.
An old rickety table stood in the corner,buried under a triple coating of dust.Having reached the window by its aid,Gilbert drew the bolt;he mounted upon the roof and,supporting himself by one of the projecting timbers of the pediment,restored the shutter to its embrasure and fastened it as well as he could;after which he made his way once more towards the small roof;for,before returning to his lodging,it was necessary at any cost to detach and draw up the rope,an unimpeachable witness which would have testified against him.While Gilbert was extended at length,fully occupied in this delicate operation,Stephane,standing at his window and trembling like a leaf,was tearing his handkerchief with his beautiful teeth.The ladder withdrawn,Gilbert cried out to him:
"Your lofts are admirable.Hereafter,coming to see you will only be a pleasure trip."When he found himself again upon his balcony,dawn began to break,and a screech owl,returning from his hunt after field mice,passed before him and regained his hole.Gilbert waved his hand to this nocturnal adventurer whose confrere he felt himself,and leaping lightly into his room,was sleeping profoundly in five minutes.At the same moment Stephane,raising his eyes to the holy images to which he had given such terrible blows,exclaimed with a passionate gesture:"Oh!St.George,St.Sergius,help me to keep my secret."XV
Yesterday evening I returned to Stephane by the dormer window and the lofts;the journey took me but twenty minutes.There was a slight wind,and I was glad to have nothing to do with the iron corbel.Arriving at ten o'clock I returned half an hour after midnight.On leaving the young man,I felt terrified and overjoyed at the same time,--frightened at the impulsive ardor of his temperament and at the efforts it will cost me to moderate his impetuosity;but overjoyed,astonished at the quickness and grasp of his mind,at his vivid imagination,and the truly Slavonian flexibility of his naturally happy disposition.It is certain that the sad and barren existence he has led for years would have shattered the energies of a soul less finely tempered than his;the vigor and elasticity of his temperament have saved him.But Iarrived just in time,for he confessed to me that the idea of suicide had taken possession of him since that unlucky escapade punished by fifteen hours'imprisonment.
"My first attempt was unfortunate,"said he,"but I was resolved to try again;I had sounded the ford;another time I should have crossed the stream."I hastened to turn the conversation,especially as he was not in the humor to weary himself with such a gloomy subject.How happy he appeared to see me again;how his joy expressed itself upon his ingenuous face,and how speaking were his looks!We occupied ourselves at first with the language of signs.Nothing escaped his eager intellect;he complained only of my slow explanations.
"I understand,I understand,"he would cry;"something else,my dear sir,something else,I'm not a fool."I certainly had no idea of such quickness of apprehension."The Slavonians learn quickly,"said I,"and forget quickly too."To prove the contrary,he answered me by signs:
"You are an impertinent fellow."
I was confounded.Then all at once:
"Extraordinary man,"said,he,with a gravity which made me smile,"tell me a little of your life.""Extraordinary I am not at all,"said I.
"And I affirm,"answered he,"that humanity is composed of tyrants,valets,and a single and only Gilbert.""Nonsense!Gilberts are abundant."
"There is but one,there is but one,"cried he,with a fire and energy that enchanted me.
I must own I am not sorry that for the time being he looks upon me as an exceptional being;for it is well to keep him a little in awe of me.To satisfy him I gave him the history of my youth.This time he reproached me for being too brief,and not going enough into detail.
As his questions were inexhaustible,I said:"After today do not let us waste our time upon this subject.Besides,the top of the basket shows the best that's in it.""There may perhaps be something to hide from me?""No;but I will confess that I do not like to talk about myself too much.I get tired of it very soon.""What?"said he,in a tone of reproach,"are we not here to talk endlessly about you,me,us?""Certainly,and our favorite occupation will be to entertain ourselves with ourselves;but to render this pastime more delightful,it will be well for us to occupy ourselves sometimes with something else.""With something else?With what?"
"With that which is not ourselves."
"And what do I care for anything which is neither you nor me?""But at all events you sometimes work,you read,you study?""At Martinique,Father Alexis gave me two or three hours of lessons every day.He taught me history,geography,and among other stuff of the same kind,the inconceivable merits and the superhuman perfections of his eternal Panselinos.The dissertations of this spiritual schoolmaster diverted me very little,as you may well suppose,and I was furious that in spite of myself his tiresome verbiage rooted itself in my memory,which is the most tenacious in the world.""And did he continue his instructions to you?""After our return to Europe,my father ordered him to teach me nothing more but the catechism.He said it was the only study my silly brain was fit for.""So for three years you have passed your days in absolute idleness.""Not at all;I have always been occupied from morning till night.""And how?"
"In sitting down,in getting up,in sitting down again,in pacing the length and breadth of my room,in gaping at the crows,in counting the squares of these flagstones,and the tiles of the little roof,in looking at the iron corbel and the water-spout on top of it,in watching the clouds sailing through the empty air,and then in lying down there in that recess of the wall,to rest quiet,with my eyes closed,ruminating over the problem of my destiny,asking myself what I could have done to God,that he chastised me so cruelly,recalling my past sufferings,enjoying in advance my sufferings to come,weeping and dreaming,dreaming and weeping,until overcome with lassitude and exhaustion I ended by falling asleep;or else,driven to desperation by weariness,I ran down to Ivan's lodging,and there gave vent to my scorn,fury,and despair,at the top of my lungs."These words,pronounced in a tone breathing all the bitterness of his soul,troubled me deeply.I trembled to think of this desolate child,whose griefs were incessantly augmented by solitude and idleness,of that soul defenselessly abandoned to its gloomy reveries,of that poor heart maddened,and pouncing upon itself as upon a prey;self-devouring,constantly reopening his wounds and inflaming them,without work or study to divert him a single instant from his monotonous torment.Oh!Count Kostia,how refined is your hatred!
"I have an idea,"I said at last."You love flowers and painting.
Paint an herbarium."
"What's that?"
