Memoirs of a Physician (51 page)

” Of what ? “

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” Of your departure.”

” Dear sister, it was the baron himself who brought me the minister’s order this morning. Monsieur de Taverney is not like you, Andre, and, it seems, will easily part with me. He appeared pleased at the thought of my departure, and in fact he was right. Here I can never get forward, “while there many occasions may present themselves.”

” My father is glad to see you go ? ” murmured Andre. te Are you not mistaken, Philip ? “

“He has you,” replied Philip, eluding the question; “that is a consolation for him, sister.”

” Do you think so, Philip ? He never sees me.”

” My sister, he bid me tell you that this very day, after iny departure, he would come to Trianon. Believe me, he loves yon ; only it is after his own fashion.”

” What is the matter now, Philip ? you seem embarrassed.”

” Dearest Andre, I heard the clock strike what hour bit?*

” A. quarter to one.”

” Well, dear sister, I seem embarrassed, because I ought to have been on the road an hour ago, and here we are at the gate where my horse is waiting. Therefore “

Andre assumed a calm demeanor, and taking her brother’s hand :

” Therefore,” said she, in a voice too firm to be entirely natural, ” therefore, brother, adieu ! “

Philip gave her one last embrace.

“To meet soon again,” said he; “remember your promise.”

” What promise ? “

” One letter a week, at least.”

” Oh ! do you think it necessary to ask it ? “

She required a violent effort to pronounce these last words. The poor girl’s voice was scarcely audible.

Philip waved his hand in token of adieu, and walked quickly toward the gate. Andre followed his retreating form with her eyes, holding in her breath in the endeavor to repress her sighs. Philip bounded lightly on horseback,

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shouted a last farewell from the other side of the gate, and was gone. Andre remained standing motionless till he was out of sight, then she turned, darted like a wounded fawn among the shady trees, perceived a bench, and had only strength sufficient to reach it, and to sink on it powerless and almost lifeless. Then heaving a deep and heartrending sigh, she exclaimed :

” Oh, my God ! do not leave me quite alone upon earth ! “

She buried her face in her hands, while the big tears she

did not seek to restrain made their way through her slender

fingers. At this instant a slight rustling was heard amid

the shrubs behind her. Andre thought she heard a sigh.

She turned, alarmed; a melancholy form stood before her.

It was Gilbert.

CHAPTER XLVIII. GILBERT’S ROMANCE.

As pale, as despairing as Andre, Gilbert stood down-cast before her. At the sight of a man, and of a stranger, for such he seemed at first sight through the thick veil of tears which obscured her gaze, Andre hastily dried her eyes, as if the proud young girl would have blushed to be seen weeping. She made an effort to compose herself, and restored calmness to her marble features only an instant before agitated with the shudder of despair. Gilbert was much longer in regaining his calmness, and his features still wore an expression of grief when Mile, de Taverney, looking up, at last recognized him.

” Oh ! Monsieur Gilbert again !” said Andre, with that trifling tone which she affected to assume whenever chance brought her in contact with the young man.

Gilbert made no reply ; his feelings were still too deeply moved. The grief which had shaken Andre’s frame to the center had violently agitated his own. It was Andre, therefore, who again broke the silence, wishing to have the last word with this apparition. ” But what is the matter, Monsieur Gilbert ?” inquired

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she. “Why do yon gaze at me in that wobegone manner ? Something must grieve you. May I ask what it is ? “

” Do yon wish to know ? ” asked Gilbert, mournfully, for he felt the irony concealed beneath this appearance of interest.

“Yes.”

” Well, what grieves me, mademoiselle, is to see you suffer,” replied Gilbert.

” And who told you that I am suffering ?”

“I see it.”

” You mistake, sir ; I am not suffering,” said Andre, passing her handkerchief over her face.

Gilbert felt the storm rising, but he resolved to turn it aside by humility.

“I entreat your pardon, mademoiselle,” said he, ” but the reason I spoke was that I heard your sobs.”

“Ah ! you were listening ? Better and better ! “

” Mademoiselle, it was by accident,” stammered Gilbert, for he felt that he was telling a falsehood.

” Accident ! I regret exceedingly, Monsieur Gilbert, that chance should have brought you here. But even so, may I ask in what manner these sobs which you heard me utter grieved you ? Pray inform me.”

” I cannot bear to see a woman weep,” said Gilbert, in a tone which highly displeased Andre.

” Am I then a woman in Monsieur Gilbert’s eyes ?” replied the haughty young girl. ” I sue for no one’s sympathy, but Monsieur Gilbert’s still less than any other’s.”

“Mademoiselle ‘ said Gilbert, sadly, “you do wrong to taunt me thus. I saw you sad, and I felt grieved. I heard you say, that now Monsieur Philip was gone, you would be alone in the world. Never, mademoiselle ! for I am beside you, and never did a heart beat more devoted to you. I repeat it, Mademoiselle de Taverney cannot be alone in the world while my head can think, my heart beat, or my arm retain its strength.”

While he spoke these words, Gilbert was indeed a model a manly elegance and beauty, although he pronounced

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them with all the humility which the most sincere respect commanded.

But it was fated that everything which the young man did should displease Andre, should offend her, and urge her to offensive retorts as if his very respect were an insult, and his prayers a provocation. At first she attempted to rise, that she might second her harsh words with as harsh gestures ; but a nervous shudder retained her on her seat. Besides, she reflected that if she were standing, she could be seen from a distance, and seen talking to Gilbert. She therefore remained seated ; for she was determined, once for all, to crush the importunate insect before her under her foot, and replied :

.“I thought I had already informed you, Monsieur Gilbert, that you are highly displeasing to me, that your voice annoys me, that your philosophical speeches disgust me. Then why, when you know this, do you still persist in addressing me ? “

“Mademoiselle,” replied Gilbert, pale, but self-pos- sessed, ” an honest-hearted woman is never disgusted by sympathy. An honest man is the equal of every human being ; and I, whom you maltreat so cruelly, deserve, more than any other, perhaps, the sympathy which I regret to perceive you do not feel for me.”

At this word sympathy, thus twice repeated, Andre opened her large eyes to their utmost extent, and fixed them impertinently upon Gilbert.

“Sympathy!” said she ” sympathy between you and me, Monsieur Gilbert ? In truth, I was deceived in my opinion of you. I took you for insolent, and I find you are even less than that you are only a madman.”

” I am neither insolent nor mad,” said Gilbert, with an apparent calm which must have cost his proud disposition much to assume. ” No, mademoiselle ; nature has made me your equal, and chance has made you my debtor.”

” Chance again ! ” said Andre, sarcastically.

“Perhaps I should have said Providence. I nevei intended to have spoken to you of this, but your insults refresh my memory.”

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” I your debtor, sir ? Your debtor, I think you said ? Explain yourself.”

” I should be ashamed to find you ungrateful, mademoiselle. God, who has made you so beautiful, has given you, to compensate for your beauty, sufficient defects without that.”

This time Andre rose.

” Stay ! pardon me ! ” said Gilbert ; ” at times you irritate me too much also, and then I forget for a moment the interest with which you inspire me.”

Andre burst into a fit of laughter so prolonged that it was calculated to rouse Gilbert’s anger to the utmost ; but to her great surprise Gilbert did not take fire. He folded his arms on his breast, retained the same hostile and determined expression in his fiery glance, and patiently awaited the end of this insulting laugh.

When she had finished

” Mademoiselle,” said Gilbert, coldly, “will you con-descend to answer me one question ? Do you respect your father ? “

‘ ‘ You take the liberty, of catechizing me, it seems, Monsieur Gilbert ? ” replied the young girl, with sovereign hauteur.

“Yes, you respect your father,” continued Gilbert; “and it is not on account of his good qualities or his virtues, but simply because he gave yon life. A father, unfortunately and you must know it, mademoiselle a father is respected only in one relation, but still it gives him a claim. Even more ; for this sole benefit ” and Gilbert, in his turn, felt himself animated by an emotion of scornful pity” you are bound to love your benefactor. Well, mademoiselle, this being established as a principle, why do you insult me ? why do you scorn me ? why do you hate him who did not indeed give you life, but who saved it ? “

” You !” exclaimed Andre ; “you saved my life ?”

” Ah ! you did not even dream of that,” said Gilbert, “or, rather, you have forgotten it. That is very natural ; it occurred nearly a year ago. Well, mademoiselle, I must

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only therefore inform you of it, or recall it to your memory. Yes, I saved your life at the risk of my own.”

“At least, Monsieur Gilbert,” said Andre, deathly pale, “you will do me the favor of telling me when and where.”

” The day, mademoiselle, when a hundred thousand persons, crushed one against the other, fleeing from the fiery horses, and the sabers which thinned the crowd, left the long train of dead and dying upon the Place de Louis XV.”

” Ah ! the thirty-first of May ? “

“Yes, mademoiselle.”

Andre seated herself, and her features again assumed a pitiless smile.

“And on that day, you say, you sacrificed your life to save mine, Monsieur Gilbert ? “

” I have already told you so.”

” Then you are the Baron Balsamo ? I beg your pardon, I was not aware of the fact.”

” No, I am not the Baron Balsamo,” replied Gilbert, with flashing eye and quivering lip, ” I am the poor child of the people, Gilbert, who has the folly, the madness, the misfortune to love you ; who, because he loved you like a madman, like a fool, like a sot, followed you into the crowd ; who, separating from you for a moment, recognized you by the piercing shriek you uttered when you lost your footing ; who, forcing his way to you, shielded you with his arms until twenty thousand arms, pressing against his, broke their strength ; who threw himself upon the stone wall against which you were about to be crushed, to afford you the softer repose of his corpse ; and, perceiving among the crowd that strange man who seemed to govern his fellow-men, and whose name you have just pronounced, collected all his strength, all his energy, and raised you in his exhausted arms, that this man might see you, seize hold of you, and save you ! Gilbert, who in yielding you up to a more fortunate protector than himself, retained nothing but a shred of your dress, which he pressed to his lips. And it was time, for already the

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blood was rnshing to his heart, to his temples, to his brain. The rolling tide of executioners and victims swept over him, and buried him beneath its waves, while you ascended aloft from its abyss to a haven of safety ! “

Gilbert, in these hurried words, had shown himself as he was uncultivated, simple, almost sublime, in his resolution as in his love. Notwithstanding her contempt, Andre could not refrain from gazing at him with astonishment. For a moment he believed that his narrative had been Xs irresistible as truth as love. But poor Gilbert, did not take into his calculations incredulity, that demon prompted by hatred. Andre, who hated Gilbert, did not allow herself to be moved by any of the forcible arguments of her despised lover.

She did not reply immediately, but looked at Gilbert, while something like a struggle took place in her mind. The young man, therefore, ill at ease during this freezing silence, felt himself obliged to add, as a sort of peroration:

” And now, mademoiselle, do not detest me as you did formerly, for now it would not only be injustice, but ingratitude, to do so. I said so before, and I now repeat it ‘

At these words Andre raised her haughty brow, and in the most indifferent and cutting tone, she asked :

” How long, Monsieur Gilbert, did you remain under Monsieur Eousseau’s tutelage ? “

“Mademoiselle,” said Gilbert, ingenuously, “I think about three months, without reckoning a few days of my illness, which was caused by the accident on the thirty-first of May.”

” You misunderstand me,” said she ; ” I did not ask you whether you had been ill or not, or what accidents you may have received. They add an artistic finish to your story, but otherwise they are of no importance to me. I merely wished to tell you, that having resided only three months with the illustrious author, you have profited well by his lessons, and that the pupil at his first essay composes romances almost worthy of his master.”

Gilbert had listened with all calmness, believing that

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Andre was about to reply seriously to his impassioned narration ; but at this stroke of cutting irony, he fell from the summit of his buoyant hopes to the dust.

” A romance ! ” murmured he, indignantly ; ” you treat what I have told you as a romance ! “

“Yes, sir,” said Andre, “a romance I repeat the word ; only you did not force me to read it for that I have to thank you. I deeply regret that, unfortunately, I am not able to repay its full value ; but I would make the attempt in vain the romance is invaluable.”