CONTENTS
PARTI
THEOLDRULE
ThesearetheyWhorideonthecourtgale，controlitstides；
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Whosefrownabasesandwhosesmileexalts。
Theyshinelikeanyrainbow—and，perchance，Theircoloursareastransient。
OldPlayCHAPTERI
MONSIEURTHESECRETARY
ItwasspringatBellecour—thespringof1789，ashortthreemonthsbeforethefalloftheBastillecametogivethenoblespause，andmakethemrealisethatthesenewphilosophies，whichsolongtheyhavederided，werebynomeanstheidlevapourstheyhaddeemedthem。
Bythebrook，plashingitsglitteringcoursethroughtheparkofBellecour，wanderedLaBoulaye，hislong，lean，figurecladwithasombrenessthatwasoutofharmonyinthatsunlit，vernallandscape。
Butthesad—huedcoatbeliedthatmorningaheartthatsangwithinhisbreastasjoyouslyasanylinnetofthewoodsthroughwhichhestrayed。Thathewasgarbedinblackwasbuttheoutwardindicationofhisclerklyoffice，forhewassecretarytothemostnobletheMarquisdeFresnoydeBellecour，andsoclothedintheliveryoftheinkbywhichhelived。Hisfacewaspaleandleanandthoughtful，butwithinhisgreat，intelligenteyesthereshonealightofnew—bornhappiness。UnderhisarmhecarriedavolumeofthenewphilosophieswhichRousseauhadlatelygiventotheworld，andwhichwascontributingsovastlytothemightychangethatwasimpending。
ButwithinhissoultheredweltinthathournosuchmustysubjectasthemetaphysicaldreamsofoldRousseau。Hismoodinclinedlittletothe"DiscoursesupontheOriginofInequality"whichhiselbowhuggedtohisside。Ratherwasitamoodofsongandjoyandthingsoflight，andhismindwasrunningonastringofrhymeswhichmentallyheoffereduptohisdivinity。Ahigh—bornladywasshe，daughtertohislordlyemployer，themostnobleMarquisofBellecour。Andheasecretary，aclerk！Aye，butaclerkwithagreatsoul，asecretarywithagreatbeliefinthethingstocome，whichinthatmustytomebeneathhisarmweredimlyprophesied。
Andasheroamedbesidethebrook，hisfeettreadingtheelastic，velvetyturf，andcrushingheedlesslylateprimroseandstrayviolet，hisbloodquickenedbythesoftspringbreeze，fragrantwithhawthornandthesmellofthemoistbrownearth，LaBoulaye’shappinessgatheredstrengthfromthejoythatonthatdayofspringseemedtoinvestallNature。Anold—worldsongstolefromhisfirmlips—atfirsttimidly，likeathingabashedinnewsurroundings，theninboldertonesthatechoedfaintlythroughthetrees"Sileroim’avaitdonneParis，sagrandeville，Etqui’ilmefallutquitterL’amourdemamie，JediraisauroiLouisReprenezvotreParis。
J’aimemieuxmamie，Ogai！
J’aimemieuxmamie！"
Howmercurialathingisalover’sheart！Herewasonewhosehabitswereofsolemnityandgloomythoughtturned，sojoyousthathecouldsingaloud，aloneinthemidstofsunnyNature，fornobetterreasonthanthatSuzannedeBellecourhadyesternightsmiledas—forsometwominutesbytheclock—shehadstoodspeakingwithhim。
"PresumptuousthatIam，"saidhetotherivulet，tocontradicthimselfthenextmoment。"Butno；thetimesarechanging。Soonweshallbeequalsall，asthegoodGodmadeus，and—"
Hepaused，andsmiledpensively。Andasagainthememoryofheryesternight’skindnessrosebeforehim，hissmilebroadened；itbecamealaughthatwentringingdowntheglade，scaringanoisythrushintosilenceandsendingitflyinginaffrightacrossthescintillantwatersofthebrook。Thenthatheartylaughbrokesharplyoff，as，behindhim，thesweetestvoiceinalltheworlddemandedthereasonofthismad—soundingmirth。
LaBoulaye’sbreathseemedinthatinstanttoforsakehimandhegrewpalerthanNatureandthewriter’sdeskhadfashionedhim。
Awkwardlyheturnedandmadeheradeepbow。
"Mademoiselle！You—youseethatyousurprisedme！"hefaltered，likeafool。Forhowshouldhe，whoseonlycomradeshadbeenbooks，havelearnttobearhimselfinthecompanyofawoman，particularlywhenshebelongedtotheranksofthosewhom—despiteRousseauandhisotherdearphilosophers—hehadbeenforyearsinthehabitofaccountinghisbetters？
"Why，then，Iamglad，Monsieur，thatIsurprisedyouinsogayahumour—for，myfaith，itisarareenoughthing。"
"True，lady，"saidhefoolishly，yetpolitelyagreeingwithher，"itisararething。"Andhesighed—"Helas！"
Atthatthelaughterleaptfromheryounglips，andturnedhimhotandcoldasbestoodawkwardlybeforeher。
"Iseethatweshallhaveyousadatthethoughtofhowrareishappiness，youthatbutamomentbackwere—orsoitseemed—sojoyous。Orisitthatmycominghasovercasttheskyofyourgoodhumour？"shedemandedarchly。
Heblushedlikeaschool—girl，andstrenuouslyprotestedthatitwasnotso。Inhishastehefellheadlongintothesinofhastiness—
aswasbutnatural—andsaidperhapstoomuch。
"Yourcoming，Mademoiselle？"heechoed。"NaybutevenhadIbeensad，yourcomingmusthavedispelledmymelancholyasthecomingofthesundispelsthemistuponthemountains。"
"Apoet？"Shemockedhimplayfully，withatossofblackcurlsandadistractingglanceofeyesblueastheheavensabovethem。"A
poet，Monsieur，andIneversuspectedit，forallthatIheldyouagreatscholar。Myfathersaysyouare。"
"Arewenotallpoetsatsomeseasonofourlives？"quothhe，forgrowingaccustomedtoherpresence—ravishedbyit，indeed—hiscouragewasreturningfastandurginghimbeyondthelimitsofdiscretion。
"Andinwhatseasonmaythisrhymingfancytouchus？"sheasked。
"Enlightenme，Monsieur。"
Hesmiled，responsivetohermerrymood，andhiscourageeverswellingunderthesuasionofit，heansweredherinafearless，daringfashionthatwasoddlyunlikehiswont。Butthen，hewasthatdayamantransformed。
"Itcomes，Mademoiselle，uponsomespringmorningsuchasthis—
forisnotspringthematingseason，andhavenotpoetssungofit，inspiredandconqueredbyit？ItcomesintheApriloflife，wheninourheartswebearthefirstfragrantbudofwhatshallanonblossomintoaglorioussummerbloomredasisLove’sliveryandperfumedbeyondallelsethatGodhassetonearthforman’sdelightandthankfulness。"
Theintensitywithwhichhespoke，andtheessenceofthespeechitself，leftheramomentdumbwithwonderandwithanincomprehensibleconsternation，bornofsomeintuitionnotyetunderstood。
"Andso，Monsieur，theSecretary，"saidsheatlast，anervouslaughquiveringinherfirstwords，"fromallthiswondrousverbiageIamtotakeitthatyoulove？"
"Aye，thatIlove，dearlady，"hecried，hiseyessointentuponherthatherglancegrewtimidandfellbeforethem。Andthen，asecondlater，shecouldhavescreamedaloudinapprehension，forthebookofJeanJacquesRousseaulaytumbledinthegrasswherehehadflungit，evenasheflunghimselfuponhiskneesbeforeher。"YoumaytakeitindeedthatIlove—thatIloveyou，Mademoiselle。"
Theaudaciouswordsbeingspoken，hiscourageoozedawayandanti—climax，followed。Hepaledandtrembled，yethekneltonuntilsheshouldbidhimrise，andfurtivelyhewatchedherface。Hesawitdarken；hesawthebrowsknit；henotedthequickeningbreath，andinallthesesignshereadhisdoombeforesheutteredit。
"Monsieur，monsieur，"sheansweredhim，andsadwashertone，"towhatlengthsdoyouurgethisspringtimefolly？Haveyouforgottensoyourstation—yes，andmine—thatbecauseItalkwithyouandlaughwithyou，andamkindtoyou，youmustpresumetospeaktomeinthisfashion？WhatanswershallImakeyou，Monsieur—forIamnotsocruelthatIcanansweryouasyoudeserve。"
AnoddthingindeedwasLaBoulaye’scourage。Aninstantagohehadfeltaverycoward，andhadquivered，appalledbytheaudacityofhisownwords。Nowthatsheassailedhimthus，andtaxedhimwiththatsameaudacity，thebloodofangerrushedtohisface—angerofthequalitythathasitssourceinshame。Inasecondhewasonhisfeetbeforeher，toweringtothefullofhisleanheight。Thewordscamefromhiminahotstream，whichforrecklesspassionbyfaroutviedhiserstwhileamatoryaddress。
"Mystation？"hecried，throwingwidehisarms。"Whatfaultliesinmystation？Iamasecretary，ascholar，andso，byacademicright，agentleman。Nay，Mademoiselle，neverlaugh；donotmockmeyet。Inwhatdoyoufindmelessamanthananyofthevapidcaperersthatfillyourfather’ssalon？Isnotmyshapeasgood？
Arenotmyarmsasstrong，myhandsasdeft，mywitsaskeen，andmysoulastrue？Aye，"hepursuedwithanotherwildwaveofhislongarms，"myattributeshaveallthesevirtues，andyetyouscornme—youscornmebecauseofmystation，soyousay！"
Howshehadangeredhim！Allthepent—upgallofyearsagainstthesuperciliaoftheclassfromwhichshesprangsurgedinthatmomenttohislips。Hebethoughthimnowofthethousandhumiliationshisproudspirithadsufferedattheirhandswhenhenotedthedisdainwithwhichtheyaddressedhim，speakingtohim—becausehewascompelledtocarvehislivingwithaquill—asthoughhewerelessthanmire。Itwasnotsomuchagainstherscornofhimthathevoicedhisbittergrievance，butagainsttheentirenoblesseofFrance，whichdeniedhimtherighttocarryahighheadbecausehehadnotbeenbornofMadamelaDuchesse，MadamelaMarquise，orMadamelaComtesse。Allthegreatthoughtsofawondroustransformation，whichhadbeensowninhimbytherevolutionaryphilosophershehaddevouredwithsuchappreciation，welledupnow，andsuchscrapsofthatinfinityofthoughtascouldfindutterancehecastbeforethewomanwhohadscornedhimforhisstation。
Presumptuoushehadaccountedhimself—butonlyuntilshehadfoundhimso。Bythatthepresumption，itseemed，hadbeenliftedfromhim，andheheldthatwhathehadsaidtoheroftheloveheboreherwasnomorethanbyvirtueofhismanhoodhehadtherighttosay。
Shedrewbackbeforehim，andshrankinsomemeasureoffear，forhelookedveryfierce。Moreover，hehadsaidthingswhichprofessedhimarevolutionist，andtherevolutionists，whilstbeingaclasswhichshehadbeentaughttodespiseandscorn，dealt，sheknew，inaviolencewhichitmightbeilltoexcite。
"Monsieur，"shefaltered，andwithherhandsheclutchedatherriding—habitofgreenvelvet，asifpreparingtodepart，"youarenotyourself。Iambeyondmeasuredesolatedthatyoushouldhavesospokentome。Wehavebeengoodfriends，M。LaBoulaye。Letusforgetthisscene。Shallwe？"Hertonesgrewseductivelyconciliatory。
LaBoulayehalfturnedfromher，andhissmoulderingeyefellupon"TheDiscourses"lyingonthegrass。Hestoopedandpickedupthevolume。Theactmighthaveseemedsymbolical。Foramomenthehadcastasidehiscreedtowooawoman，andnowthatshehaddeniedhimhereturnedtoRousseau，andgatheredupthetomealmostinpenitenceathismomentarydefection。
"Iamquitemyself，Mademoiselle，"heansweredquietly。Hischeekswereflushed，butbeyondthat，hisexcitementseemedtohavewithered。
"Itisyouwhoyesternight，foronebriefmomentandagainto—day—
werenotyourself，andtothatyouoweitthatIhavespokentoyouasIhavedone。"
Betweenthesetwoitwouldseemasthehumouroftheonewaned，thatoftheotherwaxed。Herglancekindledanewathislastwords。
"I？"sheechoed。"Iwasnotmyself？Whatareyousaying，MonsieurtheSecretary？"
"Lastnight，andagainjustnow，youweresokind，you—yousmiledsosweetly—"
"MonDieu！"sheexclaimed，angrilyinterruptinghim。"Seewhatyouareforallyourhigh—soundingvauntsofyourselfandyourattributes！
Awomanmaynotsmileuponyou，maynotsayonekindwordtoyou，butyoumustimagineyouhavemadeaconquest。Mafoi，youandyoursdonotdeservetobetreatedasanythingbutvassals。Whenweshowyouakindness，seehowyouabuseit。Weextendtoyouourlittlefingerandyouinstantlylayclaimtothewholearm。BecauselastnightI
permittedmyselftoexchangeajestwithyou，becauseIchancetobekindtoyouagainto—day，yourepaymewithinsults！"
"Stop！"hecried，rousinghimselfoncemore。"Thatistoomuchtosay，Mademoiselle。Totellawomanthatyouloveherisnevertoinsulther。Tobelovedisnevertobeslighted。UponthemeanestofHiscreaturesitisenjoinedtolovethesameGodwhomtheKingloves，andthereisnoinsulttoGodinprofessingloveforHim。
Wouldyoumakeawomanmorethanthat？"
"Monsieur，youputquestionsIhavenomindtoanswer；yousuggestadiscussionIhavenoinclinationtopursue。ForyouandmeletitsufficethatIaccountmyselfaffrontedbyyourwords，yourtone，andyourmanner。Youdrivemetosaythesethings；byyourinsistenceyoucompelmetobeharsh。Wewillendthismatterhereandnow，Monsieur，andIwillaskyoutounderstandthatIneverwishitreopened，elseshallIbeforcedtoseekprotectionatthehandsofmyfatherormybrother。"
"Youmayseekitnow，Suzanne，"quothavoicefromthethicketatherback，avoicewhichcametostartlebothofthemthoughindifferentways。BeforetheyhadrecoveredfromtheirsurprisetheMarquisdeBellecourstoodbeforethem。Hewasatallmanofsomefiftyyearsofage，butsopowerfulofframeandsoscrupulousindressthathemighthaveconveyedanimpressionofmoreyouth。Hisface，thoughhandsomeinahigh—bredway，waspuffedandofanunhealthyyellow。Buttheeyeswereaskeenasthemouthwasvoluptuous，andinhiscarefullydressedblackhairtherewerefewstrandsofgrey。
Hecameslowlyforward，andhisloweringglancewanderedfromhisdaughtertohissecretaryininquiry。Atlast—
"Well？"hedemanded。"Whatisthematter？"
"Itisnothing，Monsieur，"hisdaughteransweredhim。"Atriflingaffair’twixtM。laBoulayeandme，withwhichIwillnottroubleyou。"
"Itisnotnothing，mylord，"criedLaBoulaye，hisvoicevibratingoddly。"ItisthatIloveyourdaughterandthatIhavetoldherofit。"Hewasinaverydaringmoodthatmorning。
TheMarquisglancedathimindullamazement。Thenaflushcreptintohissallowcheeksandmountedtohisbrow。Aninarticulategruntcamefromhisthicklips。
"Canaille！"heexclaimed，throughsetteeth。"Canyouhavepresumedsofar？"
Hecarriedariding—switch，andheseemedtograspitnowinamannerpeculiarlymenacing。ButLaBoulayewasnothingdaunted。Losthealreadyaccountedhimself，andonthestrengthofthelogicthatifamanmusthang，asheepaswellasalambmaybethecauseofit，hetookwhatchancesthetimeaffordedhimtopileuphisdebt。
"ThereisneitherinsolencenorpresumptioninwhatIhavedone，"
heanswered，givingbacktheMarquislookforlookandscowlforscowl。"YoudeemitsobecauseIamthesecretarytotheMarquisdeBellecourandsheisthedaughterofthatsameMarquis。Butthesearenomorethanthefortuitouscircumstancesinwhichwechancetofindourselves。Thatsheisawomanmusttakerankbeforethefactthatsheisyourdaughter，andthatIamamanmusttakerankbeforethefactthatIamyoursecretary。Not，then，asyoursecretaryspeakingtoyourdaughterhaveItoldthisladythatI
loveher，butasamanspeakingtoawoman。Toutterthatshouldbe—nay，is—therightofeveryman；tohearitshouldbehonouringtoeverywomanworthyofthename。Inaprimitivecondition—"
"Athousanddevils！"blazedtheMarquis，unablelongertocontainhimself。"AmItohavemyearsoffendedbythisbraying？Miserablescum，youshallbetaughtwhatisduetoyourbetters。"
Hiswhipcrackedsuddenly，andthelashleaptserpentlikeintotheair，todescendandcoilitselfaboutLaBoulaye’sheadandface。
Acrybrokefromtheyoungman，asmuchofpainasofsurprise，andasthelashwasdrawnback，heclappedhishandstohissearedface。
Butagainhefeltit，cuttinghimnowacrossthehandwithwhichhehadmaskedhimself。Withamaddenedroarhespranguponhisaggressor。InheighthewastheequaloftheMarquis，butinweightheseemedtobescarcemorethanthehalfofhisopponent’s。Yetanervousstrengthdweltunsuspectedinthoseleanarmsandsteelywrists。
Mademoisellestoodbylookingon，withpartedlipsandeyesthatwereintentandanxious。Shesawthatfigure，spareandlitheasagreyhound，leapsuddenlyuponherfather，andthenextinstantthewhipwasinthesecretary’shands，andhesprangbackfromthenobleman，whostoodwhiteandquiveringwithrage，andperhaps，too，withsomedismay。
"ThatIdonotbreakitacrossyourback，M。leMarquis，saidtheyoungman，ashesnappedthewhiponhisknee，"youmaythankyouryears。"Withthatheflungthetwopieceswideintothesunlitwatersofthebrook。"ButIwillhavesatisfaction，Monsieur。I
willtakepaymentforthis。"Andhepointedtothewealthatdisfiguredhisface。
"Satisfaction？"roaredtheMarquis，hoarseinhispassion。"Wouldyoudemandsatisfactionofme，animal？"
"No，"answeredtheyoungman，withawrysmile。"Youryearsagainprotectyou。Butyouhaveason，andifbyto—morrowitshouldcometopassthatyouhaveasonnomore，youmayaccountyourself，throughthis"—andagainhepointedtotheweal—"hismurderer。"
"DoyoumeanthatyouwouldseektocrossswordswiththeVicomte？"
gaspedthenobleman，inanunbeliefsogreatthatitgainedtheascendencyoverhisanger。
"ThatiswhatImean，Monsieur。Inpracticehehasoftendoneso。
Heshalldosoforonceinactualearnest。"
"Fool！"wasthecontemptuousanswer，morecoldlydeliverednow，fortheMarquiswasgettinghimselfinhand。"IfyoucomenearBellecouragain，ifyouaresomuchasfoundwithinthegroundsofthepark，I’llhaveyoubeatentodeathbymygroomsforyourpresumption。
Keepyouthememoryofthatpromiseinmind，SirSecretary，andletitwarnyoutoavoidBellecour，asyouwouldaplague—house。Come，Suzanne，"hesaid，turningabruptlytohisdaughter，"Enoughofthisdelightfulmorninghavewealreadywastedonthiscanaille。"
Withthatheofferedherhiswrist，andso，withoutsomuchasanotherglanceatLaBoulaye，shetookherdeparture。
Thesecretaryremainedwheretheyhadlefthim，paleofface—
savingthefortuitouscrimsonmarkwhichthewhiphadcut—andverysickatheart。Theheatofthemomentbeingspent，hehadleisuretocontemplatehisplight。Ascornedlover，abeatenman，adismissedsecretary！Helookedsorrowfullyuponhisvolumeof"TheDiscourses，"andforthefirsttimeadoubtcrossedhismindtouchingthewisdomofoldJeanJacques。Wastherewouldthereeverbeanyremedyforsuchaconditionofthingsasnowprevailed？
AlreadythetreeshadhiddentheMarquisandhisdaughterfromLaBoulaye’ssight。Theyoungrevolutionistfeltwearyandlonely—
dearGod，howlonely！neitherkithnorkinhadhe，andoflatealltheinterestofhislife—savingalwaysthatabsorbedbyJeanJacques—hadlaininwatchingSuzannedeBellecour，andinlovinghersilentlyanddistantly。Nowthatlittlecrumbofcomfortwastobehisnomore，hewastogoawayfromBellecour，awayfromthesightofherforalltime。Andhelovedher，lovedher，lovedher！
HetossedhisarmstoHeavenwithagreatsighthatwasasobalmost，thenhepassedhishandsoverhisface，andastheycameincontactwiththeswollenridgethatscoredit，lovefadedfromhismind，andvindictivenesscametofillitsroom。
"Butforthis，"hecriedaloud。"Ishalltakepayment—aye，asthereisaGod！"
Thenturning，andwith"TheDiscourses"heldtightlytohisside，hemovedslowlyaway，followingthecourseofthegleamingwaters。
CHAPTERII
LORDSOFLIFEANDDEATH
OnefrienddidLaBoulayecountinthevillageofBellecour。ThiswasoldDuhamel，theschoolmaster，aneccentricpedantandafellow—worshipperoftheimmortalJeanJacques。ItwastohimthatLaBoulayenowrepairedintentuponseekingcounseltouchingafuturethatworethatmorningasingularlygloomyoutlook。
HefoundDuhamel’sdooropen，andhesteppedacrossthethresholdintothechiefroomofthehouse。Buttherehepaused，andhesitated。Thechamberwascrowdedwithpeopleinholidayattire，andthecentreofattractionwasawell—set—uppeasantwithahappy，sun—tannedface，whosegoldenlockswerecoveredbyahugeroundhatdeckedwithascoreofgaily—colouredribbons。
AtsightofhimLaBoulayerememberedthatitwasCharlot’swedding—day。Popularamongstthewomenbyvirtueofhiscomeliness，andrespectedbythemenbyvirtueofhisstrength，CharlotTardivetwasageneralfavouriteofthecountryside，andhere，intheroomofoldDuhamel，theschoolmaster，washalfthevillagegatheredtodohimhonouruponhisweddingmorn。ItwaslikeDuhamel，who，infatherlinesstowardsthevillagers，wentnearout—rivallingM。leCure，tothrowopenhishousefortheassemblingofCharlot’sfriends，andLaBoulayewastouchedbythisfreshsignofkindlinessfromamanwhosegoodhearthehadnotlackedoccasiontoobserveandappreciate。Butitcametothesecretarythattherewasnoplaceforhiminthishappyassemblage。Hisadventwould，probably，butservetocastagloomuponthem，consideringtheconditionsunderwhichhecame，withthesignsofviolenceuponhisfacetoremindthemofthelordsoflifeanddeathwhodweltattheChateauupyonder。Andsucharemindermustfalluponthemasdoesthereminderofsomeoverhangingevilclutchsuddenlyatourheartsinhappymomentsofforgetfulness。Toletthembehappythatday，toleavetheirfeastsfreeofadeath’shead，LaBoulayewouldhavewithdrawnhadhenotalreadybeentoolate。Duhamelhadespiedhim，andthelittle，wizenedoldmancamehurryingforward，hishorn—rimmedspectaclesperchedontheveryendofhisnose，hiskeenlittleeyesbeamingwithdelightandwelcome。
"Ah，Caron，youareverychoicelycome，"hecried，holdingoutbothhandstoLaBoulaye。"YoushallembraceourhappyHerculesyonder，andwishhimjoyoftheweddedlifehehastheaudacitytoexploit。"
Then，asheespiedthecrimsonridgeacrossthesecretary’scountenance，"MonDieu！"heexclaimed，"whathaveyoudonetoyourself，Caron？"
"Pish！Itisnothing，"answeredLaBoulayehurriedly，andwouldhavehadthesubjectdismissed，butthatoneoftheonlookingpeasantssworebythememoryofsomelong—deadsaintthatitwasthecutofawhip。Duhamel’seyeskindledandhisparchment—likeskinwaspuckeredintoahundredevilwrinkles。
"Whodidit，Caron？"hedemanded。
"Sinceyouinsist，oldmaster，"answeredthesecretary，stillendeavouringtomakelightofit，"learnthatisthelordMarquis’ssignaturetohisorderofmydismissalfromhisservice。"
"Thedog！"ejaculatedtheschool—master。
"Sh！letitbe。PerhapsIbravedhimovermuch。Iwilltellyouofitwhenthesegoodfolkshavegone。Donotletuscastagloomovertheirhappiness，oldmaster。AndnowtoembracethisgoodCharlot。"
Thoughinwardlyburningwithcuriosityandboilingwithindignation，DuhamelpermittedhimselftobeguidedbyLaBoulaye，andforthemomentallowedthemattertorest。LaBoulayehimselflaughinglysetasidethemanyquestionswithwhichtheypressedhim。Hedrankthehealthofthebride—elect—whowasnotyetoftheparty—andhepledgedthehappinessofthepair。HeembracedCharlot，andevenwentsofarastourgeuponhim，outofhisownscantystore，alouisd’orwithwhichtobuyMarieatrinketinmemoryofhim。
ThenpresentlycameonewiththeannouncementthatM。leCurewaswaiting，andinanswertothatreminderthattherewasaceremonytobegonethrough，Charlotandhisfriendsflungoutofthehouseinjoyousconfusion，andwenttheirwaywithlaughterandjesttothelittlechurchofSt。Ildefonse。
"Wewillfollowpresently—M。laBoulayeandI—Charlot，"Duhamelhadsaid，asthesturdybridegroomwasdeparting。"WeshallbetheretoshakeMadamebythehandandwishherjoyofyou。"
Whenatlasttheywerealoneintheschoolmaster’sroom，theoldmanturnedtoLaBoulaye，theveryembodimentofanoteofinterrogation。Thesecretarytoldhimallthathadpassed。HereddenedslightlywhenitcametospeakingofhisloveforMlle。
deBellecour，butherealisedthatifhewouldhaveguidancehemustwithholdnothingfromhisfriend。
Duhamel’sfacegrewdarkastheyoungmanspoke，andhiseyesbecamesadandverythoughtful。
"Alas！"hesighed，whenLaBoulayehadended。"WhatshallIsaytoyou，myfriend？Thetimeisnotyetforsuchaswe—youandI—tospeakofloveforadaughteroftheSeigneurie。Itiscoming，Idoubtitnot。Allthingshavetheirclimax，andFranceistendingswiftlytotheclimaxofherserfdom。Verysoonweshallhavethecrisis，thisfirethatisalreadysmouldering，willleapintoagreatblaze，thatshalllicktheoldregimeascompletelyfromthefaceofhistoryasthoughithadneverbeen。Anewconditionofthingswillspringup，ofthatIamconvinced。Doesnothistoryaffordusmanyinstances？Andwhatishistorybuttherepetitionofeventsundersimilarcircumstanceswithdifferentpeoples。ItwillcomeinFrance，anditwillcomesoon，foritisverydirelyneeded。"
"Iknow，Iknow，oldmaster，"brokeinLaBoulaye；"buthowshallallthishelpme？ForallthatIhavethewelfareofFranceatheart，itweighslittlewithmeatthemomentbycomparisonwithmyownaffairs。
WhatamItodo，Duhamel？HowamItotakepaymentforthis？"Andhepressedhisfingertohissearedcheek。
"Wait，"saidtheoldmanimpressively。"ThatisthemoralyoumighthavedrawnfromwhatIhavesaid。Bepatient。Ipromiseyouyourpatienceshallnotbeovertaxed。To—daytheysaythatyoupresume；
thatyouarenotoneofthem—although，bymysoul，youhaveasgoodanairasanynoblemaninFrance。"Andheeyedtheleanheightofthesecretarywithaglanceofsuchprideasafathermighttakeinawell—grownson。
Elegantoffigure，LaBoulayewasnolesselegantindress，forallthat，fromheadtofoot—savingthesilverbucklesonhisshoesandtheunpretentiouslaceatthroatandwrists—hewasdressedintheblackthathisofficedemanded。Hiscountenance，too，thoughcastinamouldofthoughtfulnessthatborderedonthemelancholy，borealoftystampthatmighthavepassedforbirthandbreeding，andthiswasenhancedbythecarefuldressingofhisblackunpowderedhair，gatheredintoaclubbyabroadribbonofblacksilk。
"Butwhatshallwaitingavailme？"criedtheyoungman，withsomeimpatience。"WhatamItodointhemeantime？"
"GotoAmiens，"saidtheother。"Youhavelearning，youhaveeloquence，youhaveapresenceandanexcellentaddress。Forsuccessnobetterattributescouldbeyours。"Heapproachedthesecretary，andinstinctivelyloweredhisvoice。"Wehavealittleclubthere—asortofsuccursaltotheJacobins。Wearenumerous，butwehavenoveryshiningmemberyet。Comewithme，andIwillnominateyou。Beginningthus，IpromiseyouthatyoushallpresentlybecomeamanofprominenceinPicardy。AnonwemaysendyoutoParistorepresentusintheStates—General。Then，whenthechangecomes，whoshallsaytowhatheightsitmaynotbeyourstoleap？"
"Iwillthinkofit，"answeredLaBoulayecordially，"andnotadoubtofitbutthatIwillcome。Ididnotknowthatyouhadgonesofar—"
"Sh！Youknownow。Letthatsuffice。Itisnotgoodtotalkofthesethingsjustyet。"
"Butinthemeantime，"LaBoulayepersisted，"whatofthis？"Andagainhepointedtohischeek。
"Why，letitheal，boy。"
"IpromisedtheMarquisthatIwoulddemandsatisfactionofhisson，andIamtemptedtodosoandrisktheconsequences。"
"Iamafraidtheconsequenceswillbetheonlysatisfactionthatyouwillget。Infact，theywillbeanticipationsratherthanconsequences，forthey’llneverletyouneartheboy。"
"Iknownotthat，"heanswered。"Theladismoregenerousthanhissire，andifIweretosendhimwordthatIhavebeenaffronted，hemightconsenttomeetme。Fortherest，Icouldkillhimblindfolded，"headded，withashrug。
"Bloodthirstyanimal！"rejoinedDuhamel。"Unnaturaltutor！Doyouforgetthatyouweretheboy’spreceptor？"
WiththatDuhamelcarriedtheargumentintonewfields，andshowedLaBoulayethattoavengeupontheyoungVicomtetheinsultsreceivedatthehandsoftheoldMarquiswashardlyaworthymethodoftakingvengeance。Atlasthewonhimtohisway，anditwassettledthatonthemorrowLaBoulayeshouldjourneywithhimtoAmiens。
"But，Caron，weareforgettingourfriendCharlotandhisbride，"hebrokeoffsuddenly。"Come，boy；theceremonywillbeatanendbythis。"
HetookLaBoulayebythearm，andledhimoutanddownthestreettotheopenspaceoppositeSt。Ildefonse。Thewedding—partywasstreamingoutthroughthedoorofthelittlechurchintothewarmsunshineofthatAprilmorning。Inthechurchyardtheyformedintoaprocessionofhappybe—ribbonedandnosegayedmenandwomen—theyoungpreceding，theoldfollowing，thebridalcouple。Twobytwotheycame，andtheairrangwiththeirlaughterandjoyouschatter。
Thenanothersoundarose，andifthesecretaryandthepedagoguecouldhaveguessedofwhatthatbeatingofhoofswastobetheprelude，theyhadscarcesmiledsoeasilyastheywatchedtheapproachingcortege。
>Fromasidestreettherenowemergedagailyapparelledcavalcade。
AtitsheadrodetheMarquisdeBellecour，theVicomte，andahalf—dozenothergentlemen，followedby，perhaps，adozenlacqueys。
Itwasahuntingpartythatwasmakingitswayacrossthevillagetotheopencountrybeyond。Thebridalprocessioncrossingtheirpathcausedthemtodrawrein，andtowaituntilitshouldhavepassed—whicharguedaverycondescendinghumour，foritwouldnothavebeenoutofkeepingwiththeirhabitstohaveriddenheadlongthroughit。Theirpresencecastarestraintuponthepeasants。Thejestsweresilenced，thelaughterhushed，andlikeaflightofpigeonsundertheeyeofthehawk，theyscurriedpasttheSeigneurie，andsomeofthemprayedGodthattheymightbesufferedtopassindeed。
Bellecoureyedthemincolddisdain，untilpresentlyCharlotandhisbridewereabreastofhim。Thenhiseyeseemedtotakelifeandhissallowfacetokindleintoexpression。Heleantlightlyfromthesaddle。
"Stay！"hecommandedcoldly，andastheycametoahalt，daringnottodisobeyhim—"approach，girl，"headded。
Charlot’sbrowsgrewblack。HelookedupattheMarquis，butifhisglancewassullenandthreatening，itwasalsonotfreefromfear。
Marieobeyed，witheyesdowncastandaheightenedcolour。Ifsheconjecturedatallwhytheyhadbeenstopped，itwasbuttoconcludethatM。leMarquiswasabouttoofferhersomemarkofappreciation。
Uneasiness，inherdearinnocence，sheknewnone。
"Whatisyourname，child？"inquiredtheMarquismoregently。
"ItwasMarieMichelin，Monseigneur，"shemadeanswertimidly。"ButithasjustbeenchangedtoMarieTardivet。"
"Youhavejustbeenwed，eh？"
"Weareonourwayfromchurch，Monseigneur。"
"C’estca，"hemurmured，asiftohimself，andhiseyestakingsuchstockofherasmadeCharlotburntotearhimfromhishorse。Then，inakindly，fatherlyvoice，headded："Myfelicitations，Marie；mayyoubeahappywifeandahappiermother。"
"Merci，Monseigneur，"shemurmured，withcrimsoncheeks，whilstCharlotbreathedoncemore，andfromhisheartgavethankstoHeaven，believingtheinterviewatanend。Buthewenttoofast。
"Doyouknow，Marie，thatyouareaverycomelychild？"quoththeMarquis，intoneswhichmadethebridegroom’sbloodruncold。
Someinthatnoblecompanynudgedoneanother，andonetherewaswhoburstintoaloudguffaw。
"Charlothasoftentoldmeso，"shelaughed，allunsuspicious。
TheMarquismovedonhishorsethathemightbendlower。Withhisforefingerheuptiltedherchin，andnow，asshemethisglancethusatclosequarters，anunaccountablefeartookpossessionofher，andthecolourdiedoutofherplumpcheeks。
"Yes，"saidBellecour，withasmile。"thisTardivethasgoodtaste。
Mycongratulations，tohim。Wemustfindyouaweddinggift，littlewoman，"hecontinuedmorebriskly。"Itisanancientandhonouredcustomthatisfallingsomewhatintoneglect。GouptotheChateauwithBlaiseandJeanthere。ThisgoodTardivetmustcurbhisimpatienceuntilto—morrow。"
Heturnedinhissaddle，andbeckoningthetwoservantshehadnamed，hebadeMarietomountbehindBlaise。
Shedrewbacknow，hercheekswhiteasthoseofthedead。WithawildterrorinhereyessheturnedtoCharlot，whostoodtheverypictureofanguishandimpotentrage。Inthecortege，wherebutafewmomentsagoallhadbeenlaughter，asobortwosoundednowfromsomeofthewomen。
"Bymyfaith，"laughedBellecourcontemptuouslyeyeingtheirdejection，"youhavemoretheairofaburialthanabridalparty。"
"Mercymylord！"criedtheagonisedvoiceofCharlot，as，distraughtwithgrief，heflunghimselfbeforetheMarquis。
"Whoseekstoharmyou，fool？"wasBellecour’shalf—derisiverejoinder。
"Donottakeherfromme，mylord，"theyoungmanpleadedpiteously。
"Sheshallreturnto—morrow，booby，"answeredthenoble。"Outoftheway！"
ButCharlotwasobstinate。TheMarquismightbeclaimingnomorethanbyancientlawwasthedueoftheSeigneur，butCharlotwasbynomeansmindedtosubmitincravenacquiescencetothatbrutal，barbarouslaw。
"Mylord，"hecried，"youshallnottakeher。Sheismywife。Shebelongstome。Youshallnottakeher！"
HecaughtholdoftheMarquis’sbridlewithsuchastrengthandangrywillthatthehorsewasforcedtobackbeforehim。
"Insolentclod！"exclaimedBellecour，withanangrylaughandasharp，downwardblowofthebuttofhiswhipuponthepeasant’shead。
Charlot’shandgrewnervelessandreleasedthebridleashesankstunnedtotheground。Bellecourtouchedhishorsewiththespurandrodeovertheprostratefellowwithnomoreconcernthanhadhebeenadog’scarcase。"Blaise，seetothegirl，"hecalledoverhisshoulder，addingtohiscompany："Come，messieurs，wehavewastedtimeenough。"
Notahandwasraisedtostayhim，notawordofprotestuttered，asthenoblesrodeby，laughing，andchattingamongthemselves，withtheutmostunconcernofthetragedythatwasbeingenacted。
Likeaflockoffrightenedsheepthepeasantsstoodhuddledtogetherandwatchedthemgo。Inthesameinaction—forallthatnotalittlegriefwasblentwiththeterrorontheircountenances—theystoodbyandallowedBlaisetoliftthehalf—swooninggirltothewithersofhishorse。Noreplyhadtheytothecoarsejestwithwhichheandhisfellow—servantrodeoff。ButLaBoulaye，who，fromthepointwhereheandDuhamelhadhalted，hadobservedthewholescenefromitsinception，turnednowalividfaceuponhiscompanion。
"Shallsuchthingsbe？"hecriedpassionately。"MercifulGod！Arewemen，Duhamel，anddowepermitsuchthingstotakeplace？"
Theoldpedagogueshruggedhisshouldersindespair。Hisfacewasheavilyscoredbysorrow。
"Helas！"hesighed。"Aretheynotmastersofallthattheymaytake？
TheMarquisgoesnofurtherthanisbyancientlawallowedhisclass。
Itisthelawneedsaltering，myfriend，andthenthemenwillalter。
Meanwhile，beholdthem—lordsoflifeanddeath。"
"Lordsofhellarethey！"blazedtheyoungrevolutionist。"Thatiswheretheybelong，whencetheyarecome，andwhithertheyshallreturn。Poltroons！"hecried，shakinghisfistatthegroupofcowedpeasantsthatsurroundedtheprostrateCharlot"Sheep！Worthlessclods！Thenoblesdowelltodespiseyou，for，bymyfaith，youinvitenothingbutcontempt，youthatwillsufferrapeandmurdertobedoneunderyoureyes，andneverdomorethanlookscaredencouragementuponyourravishers！"
"Blamenotthesepoorwretches，Caron，"sighedtheoldman。"Theydarenotraiseahand。"
"Then，pardieu！here，atleast，isonewhodoesdare，"hecriedfuriously，asfromthebreastpocketofhiscoathedrewapistol。
Blaise，withthegirlacrossthewithersofhishorse，wasapproachingthem，followedbyJean。
"Whatwouldyoudo？"criedtheoldmanfearfully，settingarestraininghanduponLaBoulaye’ssleeve。ButCaronshookhimselffree。
"This，"wasallheanswered，andsimultaneously，helevelledhispistolandfiredatBlaise。
Shotthroughthehead，theservantcollapsedforward；then，asthehorserearedandstartedoffatagallop，hetoppledsidewaysandfell。Thegirlwentdownwithhimandlayintheroadwhilsthewasdraggedalong，hisheadbumpinghorriblyonthestonesasfasterandfasterwentthefrightenedhorse。
WithashoutthatmayhavebeeneitherangerordismayJeanreinedinhishorse，andsatforasecondhesitatingwhethertobeginbyrecoveringthegirl，oravenginghiscomrade。ButhisdoubtsweresolvedforhimbyLaBoulaye，whotookadeliberateaimathim。
"Begone！"criedthesecretary，"unlessyouprefertogobytheroadI’vesentyourfellow。"Andbeingadiscreetyouth，JeanmadeoffinsilencebythestreetdownwhichpoorBlaisehadbeendragged。
"Carom"criedDuhamel，inafrenzyofapprehension。"Itrembleforyou，myson。FlyfromBellecouratonce—now，thisveryinstant。
GotomyfriendsatAmiens；theywill—"
ButCaronhadalreadylefthissidetorepairtothespotwhereMariewaslying。Thepeasantryfollowedhim，thoughleisurely，intheirtimidhesitation。Theywereaskingthemselveswhether，evensoremotelyasbytendingthegirl，theydaredparticipateintheviolenceLaBoulayehadcommitted。ThataswiftvengeancewouldbetheSeigneur’sanswertheywerewellassured，andagreatfearpossessedthemthatinthatvengeancethoseoftheChateaumightlackdiscrimination。Charlotwasamongstthem，andonhisfeet，butstilltoodazedtohaveaclearknowledgeofthecircumstances。
Presently，however，hisfacultiesawakeningandtakinginthesituation，hestaggeredforward，andcamelurchingtowardsLaBoulaye，whowasassistingthefrightenedMarietorise。Withagreatsobthegirlflungherselfintoherhusband’sarms。
"Charlot，monCharlot！"shecried，andaddedamomentlater："Itwashe—thisbravegentleman—whorescuedme。"
"Monsieur，"saidCharlot，"Ishallrememberittomydyingday。"
Hewouldhavesaidmore，butthepeasants，stirredbyfear，nowrousedthemselvesandpluckedathiscoat。
"Getyougone，Charlot，Getyougonequickly，"theyadvisedhim。
"AndifyouarewiseyouwillleaveBellecourwithoutdelay。Itisnotsafeforyouhere。"
"Itisnotsafeforanyofus，"exclaimedone。"IhavenomindtobecaughtwhentheSeigneurreturns。Therewillbeavengeance。AhDieu！whatavengeance！"
Thewarningactedmagically。Therewerehurriedleave—takings，andthen，likeaparcelofscuttlingrabbits，theymadefortheirburrowstohidefromthehuntsmanthatwouldnotbelongincoming。Anderethelastofthemwasoutofsighttherearoseastampingofhoofsandachorusofangryvoices。DowntinestreetthunderedtheMarquis’scavalcade，broughtbackbytheservantwhohadescapedandwhohadriddenafterthem。Someangertherewas—particularlyintheheartoftheLordofBellecour—butgreaterthantheirangerwastheirexcitementattheprospectofaman—hunt，withwhichthechaseonwhichtheyhadbeenoriginallybentmadebutapoorcomparison。
"Thereheis，Monseigneur"criedJean，ashepointedtoLaBoulaye。
"Andyonderarethegirlandherhusband。"
"Ah！Thesecretaryagain，eh？"laughedthenobleman，grimly，ashecamenearer。"Mafoi，lifemusthavegrownwearisometohim。Securethewoman，Jean。"
Caronstoodbeforehim，paleinhisimpotentrage，whichwasdirectedasmuchagainstthepeasantswhohadfledasagainstthenobleswhoapproached。Hadtheseclodsbutstoodthere，anddefendedthemselvesandtheirmanhoodwithsticksandstonesandsuchweaponsascametotheirhands，theymighthavetakenprideinbeingtrampledbeneaththehoofsoftheSeigneurie。Thus，atleast，mighttheyhaveprovedthemselvesmen。Buttoflythus—somefiftyofthemfromtheapproachoflessthanascore—wastoconfessunworthinessofabetterfatethanthatofwhichtheirseigneursrenderedthemselvestheinstruments。
Himselfhecoulddonomorethanthesingleshotinhispistolwouldallow。Thatmuch，however，hewoulddo，andlikehimwhoseresourcesarereduced，andyetwhodesirestospendthelittlethathehastobestadvantage，helevelledtheweaponboldlyattheadvancingMarquis，andpulledthetrigger。ButBellecourwasanoldcampaigner，andbyanoldcampaigner’strickhesavedhimselfatthelastmoment。
Atsightofthatlevelledbarrelhepulledhishorsesuddenlyontoitshaunches，andreceivedthechargeintheanimal’sbelly。Withashriekofpainthehorsesoughttorecoveritsfeet，thentumbledforwardhurlingtheMarquisfromthesaddle。LaBoulayehadaninspirationtoflinghimselfupontheoldroueandseekwithhishandstokillhimbeforetheymadeanendofhimself。Buterehecouldmovetoexecutehisdesignahorsemanwasalmostontopofhim。
Hereceivedastunningblowonthehead。Thedaylightfadedinhiseyes，hefeltasensationofsinking，andareverberatingdarknessengulfedhim。
CHAPTERIII
THEWORDOFBELLECOUR
WhenLaBoulayerecoveredconsciousnesshewaslyingonhisbackinthemiddleofthecourtyardoftheChateaudeBellecour。Fromagreatstonebalconyabove，alittlegroup，ofwhichMademoiselledeBellecourwasthecentre，observedthesceneaboutthecaptive，whowasbeingresuscitatedthathemightfittinglyexperiencetheSeigneur’svengeance。
Shehadreturnedfromthemorning’saffairintheparkwithaconsciencenotaltogethereasy。TohavestoodbywhilstherfatherhadstruckCaron，andmoreover，tohavedonesowithoutanysenseofhorror，orevenofregret，wasamatterinwhichsheaskedherselfwhethershehaddonewell。CertainlyLaBoulayehadpresumedunpardonablyinspeakingtoherashehadspoken，andforhispresumptionitwasfittingthatheshouldbepunished。Hadsheinterferedshemusthaveseemedtosympathise，andthusthelessonmighthavesufferedinsalutariness。AndyetCaronLaBoulayewasamanofmostexcellentexterior，and，whenpassionhadrousedhimoutofhisrestraintandawkwardness，ofmostardentandeloquentaddress。Theverysombrenessthat—beitfromhismournfulgarmentsorfromamindofthoughtfulhabit—seemedtoenvelophimwasbutanadditionalnoteofpoetryinapersonalitywhichstruckhernowaseminentlypoetical。Intheseclusionofherownchamber，assherecalledtheburningwordsandthefallofherfather’swhipupontheyoungman’spaleface，sheevenpermittedherselftosigh。Hadhebutbeenofherownstation，hehadbeensuchamanasshewouldhavetakenprideinbeingwooedby。Asitwas—shehaltedthereandlaugheddisdainfully，yetwithneversofaintanoteofregret。
Itwasabsurd！ShewasMademoiselledeBellecour，andheherfather’ssecretary；educated，ifyouwill—aye，andbeyondhisstation—butavassalwithal，andveryhumblyborn。Yes，itwasabsurd，shetoldherselfagain：theeaglemaynotmatewiththesparrow。
Andwhenpresentlyshehadcomefromherchamber，shehadbeengreetedwiththestoryofarebellioninthevillage，andanattemptedassassinationofherfather。Theringleader，shewastold，hadbeenbroughttotheChateau，andhewaseventheninthecourtyardandabouttobehangedbytheMarquis。Curioustobeholdthisunfortunate，shehadsteppedoutontothebalconywherealreadyanidlegrouphadformed。Inexpressiblehadbeenhershockuponseeinghimthatlaybelow，hiswhitefaceupturnedtotheheavens，hiseyesclosed。
"Ishedead？"sheasked，whenpresentlyshehadovercomeherfeelings。
"NotyetMademoiselle，"answeredthegracefulChevalierdeJacquelin，toyingwithhissolitaire。"Yourfatherisbringinghimtolifethathemaysendhimbacktodeath。"
Andthensheheardherfather’svoicebehindher。TheMarquishadsteppedoutontothebalconytoascertainwhetherLaBoulayehadyetregainedconsciousness。
"Heseemstobeevennowrecovering，"saidsomeone。
"Ah，youarethere，Suzanne，"criedBellecour。"Youseeyourfriendthesecretarythere。Hehaschosentopresenthimselfinanewroleto—day。Frombeingmyservant，itseemsthathewouldconstitutehimselfmymurderer。"
Howeverunfilialitmightbe，shecouldnotstifleacertainsympathyforthisyoungman。Sheimaginedthathisrebellion，whatevershapeithadassumed，hadbeenprovokedbythatwealuponhisface；anditseemedtoherthenthathehadbeenlessthanamanhadhenotattemptedtoexactsomereparationforthehurtthewhiphadinflictedatonceuponhisbodyandhissoul。
"Butwhatisitthathehasdone，Monsieur？"sheasked，seekingmorethanthescantinformationwhichsofarshehadreceived。
"Enough，atleast，tojustifymyhanginghim，"answeredBellecourgrimly。"Hesoughttowithstandmyauthority；heincitedthepeasantsofBellecourtowithstandit；hehaskilledBlaise，andhewouldhavekilledmebutthatIpreferredtolethimkillmyhorse。"
"Inwhatwaydidheseektowithstandyourauthority！"shepersisted。
Hestaredather，halfsurprised，halfangry。
"Whatdoersthemannerofitsignify？"heaskedimpatiently。"Isnotthefactenough？IsitnotenoughthatBlaiseisdead，andthatIhavehadanarrowescape，athishands？"
"Insolenthoundthatheis！"putinMadamelaMarquise—afleshlyladymonstrouslycoiffed。"IfweallowsuchmenasthustoliveinFranceourdaysarenumbered。"
"Theysaythatyouaregoingtohanghim，"saidSuzanne，heedlessofhermother’swords，andtherewasthefaintestnoteofhorrorinhervoice。
"Theyaremistaken。Iamnot。"
"Youaremot？"criedtheMarquise。"Butwhat，then，doyouintendtodo？"
"Tokeepmyword，madame，"heansweredher。"IpromisedthatcanaillethatifheevercamewithinthegroundsofBellecourI
wouldhavehimfloggedtodeath。ThatiswhatIpropose。"
"Father，"gaspedSuzanne，inhorror，ahorrorthatwasechoedbytheotherthreeorfourladiespresent。ButtheMarquiseonlylaughed。
"Hewillbe；richlyserved，"sheapproved，withasagenodofherpumpkin—likehead—dress—"mostrichlyserved。"
AgreatpityarosenowintheheartofMademoiselle，asherfatherwentbelowthathemightcarryouthisbarbarousdesign。ShewasdeaftothedaintytrifleswhichthemostelegantChevalierdeJacquelinwasmurmuringintoheirear。Shestood，atall，queenlyfigure，atthebalcony’sparapetandwatchedthepreparationsthatwerebeingmade。
Sheheardherfather’sharshly—voicedcommands。Shesawthemliterallyteartheclothesfromtheunfortunatesecretary’sback，andlashhim—nakedtothewaist—tothepumpthatstoodbythehorse—troughatthefarendoftheyard。Hisbodywasnowhiddenfromhersight，buthisheadappearedsurmountingthepillarofthepump，hischinseemingtorestuponitssummit，andhisfacewastowardsher。Athissidestoodapowerfulknavearmedwithastout，leather—thongedwhip。
"Howmanystrokes，Monseigneur？"sheheardthemaninquire。
"Howmany？"echoedtheMarquise。"DoIknowhowmanyitwilltaketomakeanendofhim？Beathimtodeath，man。Allons！
Setaboutit。"
Shesawthemanuncoilhislashandstepforward。InthatinstantCaron’seyeswereraised，andtheymethersacrosstheinterveningspace。Hesmiledavaledictorysmilethatseemedtomakeherheartstandstill。Sheandhermotherwerenowtheonlywomenonthebalcony。TheothershadmadehastetowithdrawassoonasLaBoulayehadbeenpilloried。TheMarquiseremainedbecausesheseemedtofindentertainmentinthespectacle。Suzanneremainedbecausehorrorrootedhertothespot—horrorandagreatpityforthisunfortunatewhohadlookedsostrongandbravethatmorning，whenhehadhadtheaudacitytotellherthathelovedher。
Thelashsangthroughtheair，quivered，hummed，andcutwithasickeningcrackleintotheyoungman’sflesh。
ThehideoussoundrousedherSheshudderedfromheadtofoot，andturningsheputherhandstoherfaceandrushedwithin，followedbytheMarquise’sderisivelaughter。
"MonDieu！Itishorrible！Horrible！"shecriedasshesankintothenearestchair，andclappedherhandstoherears。Butshecouldnotshutitout。Stillsheheardthehummingofthewhipandthecruelsoundofthefallingblows。Mechanicallyshecountedthem，unconsciouslyalmost，andattwentysheheardthemcease。
Wasitover？Washedead，thispoorunfortunate？Movedbyacuriositythatwasgreaterthanherloathing，sheroseandwenttothethresholdofthebalcony。
"Isitended？"sheasked。
"Ended？"echoedMonsieurdeJacquelin，withashrug。"Itisscarcebegun，itseems。Theexecutionerispausingforbreath，thatisall。Thefellowhasnotutteredasound。Heisasobstinateasamule。"
"AsenduringasaSpartan，"moregenerouslyputintheVicomte，herbrother。"Lookathim，Suzanne。"
Almostinvoluntarilysheobeyed，andmovedforwardastepthatshemightbeholdhim。Aface，deathlypale，shesaw，whichinthesunshineglistenedwiththesweatofagonythatbedewedit；butthelipsweretightlyclosedandthecountenancegrimlyexpressionless。
Evenasshelookedsheheardherfathercommandthemantolayonanew。Then，asbefore，hiseyesmethers；butthistimenosmiledidsheseeinvestingthem。
Againthewhipcrackedandfell。Shedrewback，buthisglanceseemedtohauntherevenwhenshenolongersawhisface。Asuddenresolutionmovedher，andinafrenzyofangerandcompassionsheflungoutoftheroom。Amomentlatersheburstlikeabeautifulviragointothecourtyard。
"Stop！"shecommandedshrilly，causingbothherfatherandtheexecutionertoturn，andthelatterpausinginhishideouswork。
ButaglancefromtheMarquisbadehimresume，andresumehedid，asthoughtherehadbeennointerruption。
"Whatisthis？"demandedBellecour，halfamused，halfvexed，whilstasuddennewlightleapttotheeyesofLaBoulaye，whichbutamomentbackhadbeensofullofagony。
ButMademoiselleneverpausedtoanswerherfather。Seeingtheexecutionerproceeding，despitehercalltocease，shespranguponhim，caughthimbythearmsandwrestedthewhipfromhandsthatdarednotresisther。
"DidInotbidyoustop？"sheblazed，herfacewhite，hereyesonfire；andraisingthewhipshebroughtitdownuponhisheadandshoulders，notoncebuthalf—a—dozentimesinquicksuccession，untilhefled，howling，totheothersideofthehorsetroughforshelter。"Itstingsyou，doesit"shecried，whilsttheMarquis，fromangeredthatatfirsthehadbeen，nowburstintoalaughatherfuryandatthisturningoftablesupontheexecutioner。Shemadeshifttopursuethefellowtohisplaceofrefuge，butcomingofasuddenupontheghastlysightpresentedbyLaBoulaye’slaceratedback，shedrewbackinhorror。Then，masteringherself—forgirlthoughshewas，hercouragewasofahighorder—sheturnedtoherfather。
"Givethismantome，Monsieur，"shebegged。
"Toyou！"heexclaimed。"Whatwillyoudowithhim？"
"Iwillseethatyouareridofhim，"shepromised。"Whatmorecanyoudesire？Youhavetorturedhimenough。"
"Maybe。ButamItoblamethathediessohard？"
Sheansweredhimwithrenewedinsistence，andunexpectedlyshereceivedanallyinM。desCadoux—anelderlygentlemanwhohadbeenobservingthefloggingwithdisapproval，andwhohadfollowedherintothecourtyard。
"Heistoobraveamantodielikethis，Bellecour，"putinthenewcomer。"Idoubtifhecansurvivethepunishmenthehasalreadyreceived。YetIwouldaskyou，inthenameofcourage，togivehimtheslenderchancehemayhave。"
"Ipromisedhimheshouldbefloggedtodeath—"begantheMarquis，whenDesCadouxandMademoisellejointlyinterruptedhimtorenewtheirintercessions。
"But，sangdieu，"theMarquisprotested"youseemtoforgetthathehaskilledoneofmyservants。"
"Why，then，youshouldhavehangedhimoutofhand，nottorturedhimthus，"answeredDesCadouxshortly。
Foramomentitalmostseemedasifthepairofthemwouldhavefallena—quarrelling。Theirwordsgrewmoreheated，andthen，whiletheywerestillwrangling，theexecutionercameforwardtosolvematterswiththenewsthatthesecretaryhadexpired。ToBellecourthisprovedaverywelcomeconclusion。
"Mostopportunely！"helaughed"HadtherascallivedanotherminuteIthinkwehadquarrelled，Cadoux。"Heturnedtotheservant，"Youarecertainthatitisso？"heasked。
"Look，Monsieur，"saidthefellow，ashepointedwithhiswhiptothepilloriedfigureofLaBoulaye。TheMarquislooked，andsawthatthesecretaryhadcollapsed，andhunglimpinhisbonds，hisheadfallenbackuponhisshouldersandhiseyesclosed。
WithashrugandashortlaughBellecourturnedtohisdaughter。
"Youmaytakethecarrion，ifyouwantto。ButIthinkyoucandonomorethanorderittobeflungintoaditchandburiedthere。"
Butshehadnomindtobeadvisedbyhim。Shehadtheyoungman’sbodycutdownfromthepump，andshebadeacoupleofservantsconveyittothehouseofMasterDuhamel，sheforrememberedthatLaBoulayeandtheoldpedagoguewerefriends。
"Anoddthingisawoman’sheart，"grumbledtheMarquis，whobegrudgedLaBoulayeevenhislastactofmercy。"Shemaycareneverafigforaman，andyet，ifhehasbuttoldherthathelovesher，beheneversomeanandsheneversoexalted，heseemstherebytoestablishsomemeasureofclaimtoher。"
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