Monsieur de Camors -- Volume 3

et of water which ornamented the lower part of her park, the metallic gleam of the ri

ing the grass. Two large and dazzlingly white swans, watching their mistress eagerly, in expectation of rec

ad believed that she never should see him again. She ra

said Camors. "Gi

ve it

reflected on everything. I was seized with a momentary cowardice, for which I have reproached myself bitter

ounded the lake; she knelt before him with theatric grace, and fixed on him her swimmi

t crime to be committed?

ead with mourn

nly make us worthier of each other; for, as to mys

nted to her briefly the s

to them the depth of his heart -to allude to the criminal thought they had accused him of-he had repelled with horror, the evening before, when proposed by another. He thought of al

derstood that this distrust, envenomed b

, indignation, and even injustice, had shown him bu

e he had rented near the Chateau Campvallon. After writing ten letters-all of which he had burned-he had decided to maintain an absolute si

uise, made a sensation in the Parisian world, where it was soon known. It revived again the s

as the confidante of all his projects, and added her own care to them; and both occupied themselves in organizing in advance their mutual existence, hereafter blended forever. The personal fortune of M. de Camors, united to that of the Marquise, left no limits to the fancies which their imagination could devise. They arranged to live separately at Paris, though the Marquise's salon sho

thstanding, to adjourn the realization of their dream, if they did not wish to wound the conscience of the public. They felt it, and resolved to travel for a few months before settling in Paris. The time that passed in their preparations for the future, and in arrangements for this voyage, was to Madame de Campvallon the sweetest period of her life. She finally tasted to the full an intimacy, so long troubled, of which the charm, in truth, was very great; for her lover, as if to make her forget his momentary desertion, w

t the foot of his desk. The servant, whose name was Daniel, had all his master's confidence, and

ainting-fit, was very pale, and was walking across the room when she entered. He see

work himself again. When he came to her next day, she could not help being surprised at the dejection stamped on his face, which she attributed

of you," he said. "I do not fee

almost feverish, which had animated until then his life, his speech, his eyes, was suddenly quenched. One

t he heard him pacing up and down the greater part of the night. At the same time his health failed visibl

from me. You suffer, my

is no

you te

tter with me," he

son that y

in the world who considers me a coward-for I hear always that word in my ear-and who treated me like a coward, and w

den explosion

ll her the truth-tell her that you were ready to defend her against me-that you love her, and hate me?

ride bleeds, that is all; and I give you my word of honor that if you ever affront me by going to

alm for a

the time when the Marquise was in the habit of returning to Paris. She proposed to M. de Camors to occupy the chatea

ould say; "are we n

health a pretext for delay, saying that he felt weak and wished to send in his resignation as d

e said, "I am condemning

ied, "I am happy eve

m and was devoted to him. There was no suffering she would not have r

r, for Camors and the Marquise, with a monotony that left hardly any trace on their thoughts. Their daily relations were marked, on the part of the Count with an invariably cold and distant courtesy, and very often silence; on the part of the Marquise by an attentive tenderness and a constrained grief. Every day they rode out on horseback, both clad in black, sympathetic by their beauty and their sadness, and surrounded in the country by distant respect. About the beginning of the ensuing winter Madame de C

rs this visit to Vichy, he only sh

l, by a ride the Count had taken that morning. The Marquise had recourse to Daniel, of whom she made a confidant, and having questioned him, drew out the acknowledgment that for some time his master had been in the habit of go

d had abandoned her. Reuilly was distant twelve leagues from Campvallon, which could be made shorter by a crosscut. M. de Camors did not hesitate t

hed as near as he could without risking discovery; and, hiding himself like a malefactor behind the shadows of the trees, he

to be ignorant of it. But these two spirits were too accustomed to each other, day by day, to be able to

to his knowledge of the habits of the household, he could approach, without being noticed, the pavilion where the Countess's chamber was situated, and which was also that of his son. This chamber, by a particular arrangement of the house, was elevat

rking near the chimney. Her face was unchanged. She had the same youthful look, but her hair was as white, as snow. Madame de Ca

hat escaped him. This prayer, composed of a number of phrases adapted to a youthful mind, terminated with these words: "O God! be good and merciful to my mother, my grandmother, to me-and above all, O God, to my unfortunat

est gate. A fixed idea tortured him. He wished to see his son-to speak to him-

d. He hid himself in the walk which led to the farm. He heard the noise of feet, of laughter, and of joyous cries, and his son suddenly appeared running in advance. He was a charming little boy of five or six years,

" he said,

rms and bent as if

e me, I beg of y

oman who was following him, who was his old nurse,

she said, in

r, rushed back to the nurse, pressed against he

the arm, and earned

exaggerated the thinness of his cheeks. He had two or three shudderings as if seized with

M. de Camors, already so changed, became after this unrecognizable. He showed her no longer even the cold politeness he had manifested f

taking regular meals. These two desolate existences offered then, in the m

f marble-under long arcades of verdure peopled with more statues- both wand

ot descend from his apartment. Daniel told the M

d. He bent his head mo

should lose

e obtained from his servant. M. de Camors was not bedridden. He passed his time in a sad reverie, lying on his divan. He got up

the country physician who had once before seen him. It was so decided. The unfortunate woman, when the physician was shown into the Coun

sad case appears to me serious-but not hopeless. I did not wi

heard some one calling her, and recognized the voice of Daniel.

ieur le Comte asks for y

what is t

ame-you mu

this existence, so full, so proud, so powerful, was about to terminate. The head of Camors, turned on the pillow, seemed already to have assumed a d

y and wished to seize the

but could not; but his eyes spoke. They addressed to her some request, at the same time with an imperious though suppl

ise it

indicated a large sealed letter lying on the bed.

, falling on her knees, and mois

dy cold. When she raised her head, she saw at the same instant the eyes of Camors slightly moist, rolling wildly-then ex

was a great sinner, b

ITOR'S B

kneel unless sure o

us persons who a