Suddenly, Jahel whispered in my ear, where her mouth
was already placed:
“I see M. d’Anquetil, who, from the top
of the wall, looks eagerly towards us.”
“Can he see us in this shadow?” I asked.
“He certainly sees my white petticoat,”
she said; “it’s enough, I think, to tempt
him to look for more.”
I first thought to draw my sword, and was quite decided
to defend two existences, which were at this moment
still very much mixed. Jahel’s calm surprised
me, neither her movements nor her voice showed any
fear.
“Go,” she said to me, “fly, and
don’t fear for me. It’s a surprise
I have rather wished for. He began to get tired
of me, and this encounter is quite efficacious to
reanimate his desires and season his love. Go
and leave the alone. The first moment will be
hard, for he is of a very violent disposition.
He’ll strike me, but after, t shall be still
dearer to him. Farewell!”
“Alas!” I exclaimed, “did you take
me then, Jahel, for Nothing but to sharpen the desires
of my rival?”
“I wonder that you also want to quarrel with
me. Go, I say!”
“What! leave you like this?”
“It’s necessary. Farewell! He
must not meet you here, I want to make him jealous,
but in a delicate manner. I Farewell! Farewell.”
I had hardly gone a few steps between the labyrinth
of tombstones when M. d’Anquetil, having come
forward to enable him to recognise his mistress, began
to shout and to curse loud enough to awaken the village
dead. I was anxious to tear Jahel away from his
rage; I thought he would kill her. I glided between
the tombstones to her assistance. But after a
few minutes, observing them very closely, I saw M.
d’Anquetil pulling her out of the cemetery and
leading her towards Gaulard’s inn with a remainder
of fury she was easily capable of calming, alone and
without help.
I returned to my room after they had entered theirs
I could not sleep the whole of the night, and looking
out at daybreak, through an opening in the window
curtains I saw them crossing the courtyard apparently
the best of friends.
Jahel’s departure augmented my sorrow.
I stretched myself full length on my stomach on the
floor of my room, and with my face in my hands cried
until the evening.
I am pardoned and return to Paris—Again
at the Queen Pedauque—I go as Assistant
to M. Blaizot—Burning of the Castle of
Sablons—Death of Mosaide and of M. d’Asterac.
From now onwards my life loses the interest which
events had lent it, and my destiny, having again become
in conformity with my character, offers nothing but
ordinary occurrences. If I should prolong my
memoirs my narrative would very soon become tiresome.
I’ll bring it to a close with but few words.
The Vicar of Vallars gave me a letter of introduction
to a wine merchant at Macon, with whom I was employed
for a couple of months, after which my father wrote
to me that he had arranged my affair and that I was
free to return to Paris.
