Part 2 Chapter 16

One o'Clock in the MorningThe garden was extremely large, laid out with perfect taste just afew years previously. But the trees were over a century old. Theplace had something rustic about it.

MASSINGER 14He was on the point of countermanding his instructions to Fouquewhen the clock struck eleven. He came out of his bedroom and shut thedoor behind him, turning the key noisily in the lock, as though he werelocking himself in. He prowled round the house to see what was afooteverywhere, especially on the fourth floor, where the servants slept.

There was nothing unusual. One of Madame de La Mole's maids wasgiving a party, the servants were merrily imbibing punch. 'The men whoare laughing like that,' thought Julien, 'cannot have been detailed for themidnight encounter, they would be more serious.'

Finally he took his stand in a dark corner of the garden. 'If their plan isto avoid the notice of the servants of the house, they will make the menthey have hired to seize me come in over the garden wall.

'If M. de Croisenois is taking all this calmly, he must feel that it will beless compromising for the young person whom he intends to marry tohave me seized before the moment when I shall have entered her room.'

He made an extremely careful military reconnaissance. 'My honour isat stake,' he thought; 'if I make some blunder, it will be no excuse in myown eyes to say to myself: "I never thought of that."'

The sky was maddeningly clear. About eleven o'clock the moon rose,at half-past twelve it lighted the whole garden front of the house.

14.I have left this motto untranslated, as the attribution to Massinger seems to be entirely fantastic. C. K. S. M.

'She is mad,' Julien said to himself; when one o'clock struck, there wasstill a light in Comte Norbert's windows. Never in his life had Julienbeen so much afraid, he saw only the dangers of the enterprise, and feltnot the least enthusiasm.

He went to fetch the huge ladder, waited five minutes, to allow timefor a countermand, and at five minutes past one placed the ladderagainst Mathilde's window. He climbed quietly, pistol in hand, astonished not to find himself attacked. As he reached the window, sheopened it silently:

'Here you are, Sir,' Mathilde said to him with deep emotion; 'I havebeen following your movements for the last hour.'

Julien was greatly embarrassed, he did not know how to behave, hedid not feel the least vestige of love. In his embarrassment, he decidedthat he must show courage, he attempted to embrace Mathilde.

'Fie, Sir!' she said, and thrust him from her.

Greatly relieved at this repulse, he hastened to cast an eye round theroom: the moonlight was so brilliant that the shadows which it formed inMademoiselle de La Mole's room were black. 'There may easily be menconcealed there without my seeing them,' he thought.

'What have you in the side pocket of your coat?' Mathilde asked him,delighted at finding a topic of conversation. She was strangely ill at ease;all the feelings of reserve and timidity, so natural to a young girl of goodfamily, had resumed their sway and were keeping her on tenter-hooks.

'I have all sorts of weapons and pistols,' replied Julien, no less pleasedat having something to say.

'You must pull up the ladder,' said Mathilde.

'It is huge, and may break the windows of the room below, or of themezzanine.'

'It must not break the windows,' Mathilde went on, trying in vain toadopt the tone of ordinary conversation; 'you might, it seems to me, letthe ladder down by means of a cord tied to the top rung. I always keep asupply of cords by me.'

'And this is a woman in love!' thought Julien, 'she dares to say that sheloves! Such coolness, such sagacity in her precautions make it plain tome that I am not triumphing over M. de Croisenois, as I foolishly imagined; but am simply becoming his successor. After all, what does it matter? I am not in love! I triumph over the Marquis in this sense, that hewill be greatly annoyed at having a successor, and still more annoyed that his successor should be myself. How arrogantly he stared at me lastnight in the Cafe Tortoni, pretending not to know me! How savagely hebowed to me afterwards, when he could no longer avoid it!'

Julien had fastened the cord to the highest rung of the ladder, he nowlet it down gently, leaning far out over the balcony so as to see that it didnot touch the windows. 'A fine moment for killing me,' he thought, 'ifthere is anyone hidden in Mathilde's room'; but a profound silence continued to reign everywhere.

The head of the ladder touched the ground. Julien succeeded in concealing it in the bed of exotic flowers that ran beneath the wall.

'What will my mother say,' said Mathilde, 'when she sees her beautifulplants all ruined! You must throw down the cord,' she went on, with perfect calm. 'If it were seen running up to the balcony, it would be difficultto explain its presence.'

'And how me gwine get way?' asked Julien, in a playful tone, imitatingCreole speech. (One of the maids in the house was a native of SanDomingo.)'You get way by the door,' said Mathilde, delighted at this solution.

'Ah! How worthy this man is of all my love,' she thought.

Julien had just let the cord drop into the garden; Mathilde gripped himby the arm. He thought he was being seized by an enemy, and turnedsharply round drawing a dagger. She thought she had heard a windowbeing opened. They stood motionless, without breathing. The moonshone full upon them. As the sound was not repeated, there was no further cause for alarm.

Then their embarrassment began again, and was great on both sides.

Julien made sure that the door was fastened with all its bolts; he eventhought of looking under the bed, but dared not; they might have hiddena footman or two there. Finally, the fear of a subsequent reproach fromhis prudence made him look.

Mathilde had succumbed to all the agonies of extreme shyness. Shefelt a horror of her position.

'What have you done with my letters?' she said, at length.

'What a fine opportunity to discomfit these gentlemen, if they arelistening, and so avoid the conflict!' thought Julien.

'The first is hidden in a stout Protestant Bible which last night's mailhas carried far from here.'

He spoke very distinctly as he entered into these details, and in such away as to be overheard by anyone who might be concealed in two greatmahogany wardrobes which he had not dared to examine.

'The other two are in the post, and are going the same way as the first.'

'Good Lord! But why all these precautions?' said Mathilde, withastonishment.

'Is there any reason why I should lie to her?' thought Julien; and heconfessed to her all his suspicions.

'So that accounts for the coldness of thy letters!' cried Mathilde, in accents rather of frenzy than of affection.

Julien did not observe her change of tone. This use of the singular pronoun made him lose his head, or at least his suspicions vanished; he ventured to clasp in his arms this girl who was so beautiful and inspiredsuch respect in him. He was only half repulsed.

He had recourse to his memory, as once before, long ago, at Besanconwith Amanda Binet, and repeated several of the finest passages from theNouvelle Heloise.

'Thou hast a man's heart,' she replied, without paying much attentionto what he was saying; 'I wished to test thy bravery, I admit. Thy firstsuspicions and thyu determination to come shew thee to be even moreintrepid than I supposed.'

Mathilde made an effort to use the more intimate form; she was evidently more attentive to this unusual way of speaking than to what shewas saying. This use of the tu form, stripped of the tone of affection,ceased, after a moment, to afford Julien any pleasure, he was astonishedat the absence of happiness; finally, in order to feel it, he had recourse tohis reason. He saw himself highly esteemed by this girl who was soproud, and never bestowed unrestricted praise; by this line of reasoninghe arrived at a gratification of his self-esteem.

This was not, it is true, that spiritual ecstasy which he had found attimes in the company of Madame de Renal. There was nothing tender inhis sentiments at this first moment. What he felt was the keenest gratification of his ambition, and Julien was above all things ambitious. Hespoke again of the people he suspected and of the precautions he hadcontrived. As he spoke he was thinking of how best to profit by hisvictory.

Mathilde, who was still greatly embarrassed and had the air of one appalled by what she had done, seemed enchanted at finding a topic of conversation. They discussed how they should meet again. Julien employed to the full the intelligence and daring of which he furnished freshproofs in the course of this discussion. They had some extremely sharp-sighted people against them, young Tanbeau was certainly a spy, butMathilde and he were not altogether incompetent either.

What could be easier than to meet in the library, and arrangeeverything?

'I can appear, without arousing suspicion, in any part of the house, Icould almost appear in Madame de La Mole's bedroom.' It was absolutely necessary to pass through this room to reach her daughter's. IfMathilde preferred that he should always come by a ladder, it was witha heart wild with joy that he would expose himself to this slight risk.

As she listened to him speaking, Mathilde was shocked by his air oftriumph. 'He is my master, then!' she told herself. Already she was devoured by remorse. Her reason felt a horror of the signal act of follywhich she had just committed. Had it been possible, she would have destroyed herself and Julien. Whenever, for an instant, the strength of herwill made her remorse silent, feelings of shyness and outraged modestymade her extremely wretched. She had never for a moment anticipatedthe dreadful plight in which she now found herself.

'I must speak to him, though,' she said to herself, finally, 'that is laiddown in the rules, one speaks to one's lover.' And then, as though performing a duty, and with a tenderness that was evident rather in thewords that she used than in the sound of her voice, she told him of thevarious decisions to which she had come with regard to him during thelast few days.

She had made up her mind that if he ventured to come to her with theaid of the gardener's ladder, as she had bidden him, she would give herself to him. But never were things so tender said in a colder and moreformal tone. So far, their intercourse was ice-bound. It was enough tomake one hate the thought of love. What a moral lesson for a rash youngwoman! Is it worth her while to wreck her future for such a moment?

After prolonged uncertainties, which might have appeared to a superficial observer to be due to the most decided hatred, so hard was it forthe feeling of self-respect which a woman owes to herself, to yield to somasterful a will, Mathilde finally became his mistress.

To tell the truth, their transports were somewhat deliberate. Passionatelove was far more a model which they were imitating than a reality withthem.

Mademoiselle de La Mole believed that she was performing a duty towards herself and towards her lover. 'The poor boy,' she told herself, 'hasbeen the last word in daring, he deserves to be made happy, or else I amwanting in character.' But she would gladly have redeemed at the cost ofan eternity of suffering the cruel necessity to which she found herselfcommitted.

In spite of the violence she was doing to herself, she retained entirecommand of her speech.

No regret, no reproach came to mar this night which seemed oddrather than happy to Julien. What a difference, great God, from his lastvisit, of twenty-four hours, to Verrieres! 'These fine Paris manners havefound out the secret of spoiling everything, even love,' he said to himselfwith an extreme disregard of justice.

He abandoned himself to these reflections, standing upright in one ofthe great mahogany wardrobes into which he had been thrust at the firstsound heard from the next room, which was Madame de La Mole's bedroom. Mathilde accompanied her mother to mass, the maids soon left theapartment, and Julien easily made his escape before they returned tocomplete their labours.

He mounted his horse and made at a leisurely pace for the most solitary recesses of one of the forests near Paris. He was still more surprisedthan happy. The happiness which, from time to time, came flooding intohis heart, was akin to that of a young Second Lieutenant who, after someastounding action, has just been promoted Colonel by the Commanderin Chief; he felt himself carried to an immense height. Everything thathad been above him the day before was now on his level or far beneathhim. Gradually Julien's happiness increased as he put the miles behindhim.

If there was nothing tender in his heart, it was because, strange as itmay appear, Mathilde, throughout the whole of her conduct with him,had been performing a duty. There was nothing unforeseen for her in allthe events of this night but the misery and shame which she had foundin the place of that utter bliss of which we read in novels.

'Can I have been mistaken? Am I not in love with him?' she askedherself.