ADRIENNE AND DJALMA.
When Faringhea had quitted the room, Rodin took the letter from Abbe d'Aigrigny with one hand, and with the other appeared to be looking for something, first in the side pocket of his great-coat, then in the pocket behind, then in that of his trousers; and, not finding what he sought, he laid the letter on his knee, and felt himself all over with both hands, with an air of regret and uneasiness.The divers movements of this pantomime, performed in the most natural manner, were crowned by the exclamations.
"Oh! dear me! how vexatious!"
"What is the matter?" asked Djalma, starting from the gloomy silence in which he had been plunged for some minutes.
"Alas! my dear prince!" replied Rodin, "the most vulgar and puerile accident may sometimes cause the greatest inconvenience.I have forgotten or lost my spectacles.Now, in this twilight, with the very poor eyesight that years of labor have left me, it will be absolutely impossible for me to read this most important letter--and an immediate answer is expected--most simple and categorical--a yes or a no.Times presses; it is really most annoying.If," added Rodin, laying great stress on his words, without looking at Djalma, but so as the prince might remark it; "if only some one would render me the service to read it for me; but there is no one--no--one!"
"Father," said Djalma, obligingly, "shall I read it for you.When I have finished it, I shall forget what I have read."
"You?" cried Rodin, as if the proposition of the Indian had appeared to him extravagant and dangerous; "it is impossible, prince, for you to read this letter."
"Then excuse my having offered," said Djalma mildly.
"And yet," resumed Rodin, after a moment's reflection, and as if speaking to himself, "why not?"
And he added, addressing Djalma: "Would you really be so obliging, my dear prince? I should not have ventured to ask you this service."
So saying, Rodin delivered the letter to Djalma, who read aloud as follows: "'Your visit this morning to Saint-Dizier House can only be considered, from what I hear, as a new act of aggression on your part.
"`Here is the last proposition I have to make.It may be as fruitless as the step I took yesterday, when I called upon you in the Rue Clovis.
"`After that long and painful explanation, I told you that I would write to you.I keep my promise, and here is my ultimatum.
"`First of all, a piece of advice.Beware! If you are determined to maintain so unequal a struggle, you will be exposed even to the hatred of those whom you so foolishly seek to protect.There are a thousand ways to ruin you with them, by enlightening them as to your protects.It will be proved to them, that you have shared in the plat, which you now pretend to reveal, not from generosity, but from cupidity.'" Though Djalma had the delicacy to feel that the least question on the subject of this letter would be a serious indiscretion, he could not forbear turning his head suddenly towards the Jesuit, as he read the last passage.
"Oh, yes! it relates to me.Such as you see me, my dear prince," added he, glancing at his shabby clothes, "I am accused of cupidity."
"And who are these people that you protect?"
"Those I protect?" said Rodin feigning some hesitation, as if he had been embarrassed to find an answer; "who are those I protect? Hem--hem--I will tell you.They are poor devils without resources; good people without a penny, having only a just cause on their side, in a lawsuit in which they are engaged.They are threatened with destruction by powerful parties--very powerful parties; but, happily, these latter are known to me, and I am able to unmask them.What else could have been? Being myself poor and weak, I range myself naturally on the side of the poor and weak.But continue, I beg of you."
Djalma resumed: "`You have therefore every-thing to fear if you persist in your hostility, and nothing to gain by taking the side of those whom you call your friends.They might more justly be termed your dupes, for your disinterestedness would be inexplicable, were it sincere.It must therefore conceal some after-thought of cupidity.
"`Well! in that view of the case, we can offer you ample compensation--
with this difference, that your hopes are now entirely founded on the probable gratitude of your friends, a very doubtful chance at the best, whereas our offers will be realized on the instant.To speak clearly, this is what we ask, what we exact of you.This very night, before twelve, you must have left Paris, and engage not to return for six months.'" Djalma could not repress a movement of surprise, and looked at Rodin.
"Quite natural," said the latter; "the cause of my poor friends would be judged by that time, and I should be unable to watch over them.You see how it is, my dear prince," added Rodin., with bitter indignation."But please continue, and excuse me for having interrupted you; though, indeed, such impudence disgusts me."
Djalma continued: "'That we may be certain of your removal from Paris for six months, you will go to the house of one of our friends in Germany.
You will there be received with generous hospitality, but forcibly detained until the expiration of the term.'"
"Yes, yes! a voluntary prison," said Rodin.
"`On these conditions, you will receive a pension of one thousand francs a month, to begin from your departure from Paris, ten thousand francs down, and twenty thousand at the end of the six months--the whole to be completely secured to you.Finally, at the end of the six months, we will place you in a position both honorable and independent.'"
Djalma having stopped short, with involuntary indignation, Rodin said to him: "Let me beg you to continue, my dear prince.Read to the end, and it will give you some idea of what passes in the midst of our civilization."
