"It is a singular fact," resumed the priest, "and one that I should not wish to relate to the first-comer, but I am very glad to impart it to you, because you have a serious and reflective mind, though unfortunately you are not orthodox; would to God you were.Know then, my child, that to-day, Saturday, I went according to my custom to Stephane to catechize him, and for reasons which you know, I redoubled my efforts to impress his unruly head with the holy truths of our faith.Now it appears that without intending it, you have caused him sorrow; and you can believe that such a character, far from having pardoned you, has taken the greatest pains to get me to espouse his side in the difficulty.However he, who will usually fly into a passion and talk fiercely if a fly tickles him, recited his griefs to me with an air of moderation and a tranquillity of tone which astonished me to the last degree.As I endeavored to discover a reason for this, I happened to raise my eyes to the images of St.George and St.Sergius which decorate one of the corners of his room, and before which he was in the habit of saying his prayers every morning.What was my surprise, my grief, when I perceived that the two saints had suffered shameful outrages.One had no legs, the other was disfigured by a horrible scar.With hands raised to Heaven, I threatened him with the thunder of God.Without being excited, without changing countenance, he left his chair, came to me and placed his hand on my mouth.'Father,' said he, with an air of assurance which awed me, 'listen to me.I have been wrong, if you wish it so, and still, under the same circumstances, I should do it again, for since I have chastised them, the two saints have decided to come to my aid, and the very day after their punishment, without any change in my life, all at once I felt my heart become lighter; for the first time, I swear to you, a ray of celestial hope penetrated my soul.' What do you say to that, my child? I had often heard similar things related, but I did not believe them.Little boys may be whipped, but as for saints!--Ah! my dear child, the ways of God are very strange, and there are many great mysteries in this world."Father Alexis had such an impressive air in speaking of this great mystery, that Gilbert was tempted to laugh; but he controlled himself; he was too grateful for his obliging narrative, and could have embraced him with all his heart.
"Good news!" said he to himself."That heart has become lighter;that 'ray of celestial hope.' Ah! God be praised, my effort has not been thrown away.St.George, St.Sergius, you rob me of my glory, but what matters it? I am content!""And what reply did you make to Stephane?" said he to the priest.
"Did you reprimand him? Did you congratulate him?""The case was delicate," said the good father, with the air of a philosopher meditating on the most abstruse subject; "but I am not wanting in judgment, and I drew out of the affair with honor.""You managed admirably," cried I, looking at him with admiration;then immediately putting on a serious face, "but the sin is enormous."The third day after, Gilbert didn't wait for the bell to ring for dinner before going down to the great hall.He was not very much surprised to find Stephane there.Leaning with his back against the sideboard, the young man, on seeing him appear, lost his composure, blushed, and turned his head towards the wall.Gilbert stopped a few steps from him.Then in an agitated manner, and with a voice at once gentle and abrupt, he said:
"And your arm?"
"It is nearly well.To-morrow I shall take off my sling."Stephane was silent for a moment.Then in a still lower voice:
"What do you mean to do?" murmured he; "what are your plans?""I wait to know your good pleasure," replied Gilbert.
The young man covered his eyes with both hands, and, as Gilbert said no more, he seemed to feel a thrill of impatience and vexation.
"His pride demands some mercy," thought Gilbert."I will spare him the mortification of making the first advances.""I should like very much to have a conversation with you," said he gently."This cannot be upon the terrace, Ivan will not leave you alone there.Does he keep you company in your room in the evening?""Are you jesting?" answered Stephane, raising his head."After nine o'clock Ivan never comes near my room.""And his room, if I am not mistaken," answered Gilbert, "is separated from you by a corridor and a staircase.So we shall run no risk of being overheard."Stephane turned towards him and looked him in the face."You think of everything," said he, with a smile, sad and ironical.
"Apparently, to reach me, you will be obliged to mount a swallow.
Have you made your arrangements with one?"
"I shall come over the roofs," said Gilbert quietly.
"Impossible!" cried Stephane."In the first place, I do not wish you to risk your life for me again.And then--""And then you do not care for my visit?"
Stephane only answered him by a look.
At this moment steps sounded in the vestibule.When the Count entered, Gilbert was pacing the further end of the hall, and Stephane, with his back turned, was attentively observing one of the carved figures upon the wainscoting.M.Leminof, stopping at the threshold of the door, looked at them both with a quizzical air.
"It was time for me to arrive," said he, laughing."This is an embarrassing tete-a-tete."
