to the child's voice with the myriad murmurs of the coming night, like
the low accompaniment of an organ lightly touched, Madeleine was on

the right of the countess, Jacques on her left. The graceful curly
heads, between which rose the smooth braids of the mother, and above

all three the perfectly white hair and yellow cranium of the father,
made a picture which repeated, in some sort, the ideas aroused by the

melody of the prayer. As if to fulfil all conditions of the unity
which marks the sublime, this calm and collected group were bathed in

the fading light of the setting sun; its red tints coloring the room,
impelling the soul--be it poetic or superstitious--to believe that the

fires of heaven were visiting these faithful servants of God as they
knelt there without distinction of rank, in the equality which heaven

demands. Thinking back to the days of the patriarchs my mind still
further magnified this scene, so grand in its simplicity.

The children said good-night, the servants bowed, the countess went
away holding a child by each hand, and I returned to the salon with

the count.
"We provide you with salvation there, and hell here," he said,

pointing to the backgammon-board.
The countess returned in half an hour, and brought her frame near the

table.
"This is for you," she said, unrolling the canvas; "but for the last

three months it has languished. Between that rose and this heartsease
my poor child was ill."

"Come, come," said Monsieur de Mortsauf, "don't talk of that any more.
Six--five, emissary of the king!"

When alone in my room I hushed my breathing that I might hear her
passing to and fro in hers. She was calm and pure, but I was lashed

with maddening ideas. "Why should she not be mine?" I thought;
"perhaps she is, like me, in this whirlwind of agitation." At one

o'clock, I went down, walking noiselessly, and lay before her door.
With my ear pressed to a chink I could hear her equable, gentle

breathing, like that of a child. When chilled to the bone I went back
to bed and slept tranquilly till morning. I know not what prenatal

influence, what nature within me, causes the delight I take in going
to the brink of precipices, sounding the gulf of evil, seeking to know

its depths, feeling its icy chill, and retreating in deep emotion.
That hour of night passed on the threshold of her door where I wept

with rage,--though she never knew that on the morrow her foot had trod
upon my tears and kisses, on her virtue first destroyed and then

respected, cursed and adored,--that hour, foolish in the eyes of many,
was nevertheless an inspiration of the same mysteriousimpulse which

impels the soldier. Many have told me they have played their lives
upon it, flinging themselves before a battery to know if they could

escape the shot, happy in thus galloping into the abyss of
probabilities, and smoking like Jean Bart upon the gunpowder.

The next day I went to gather flowers and made two bouquets. The count
admired them, though generally nothing of the kind appealed to him.

The clever saying of Champcenetz, "He builds dungeons in Spain,"
seemed to have been made for him.

I spent several days at Clochegourde, going but seldom to Frapesle,
where, however, I dined three times. The French army now occupied

Tours. Though my presence was health and strength to Madame de
Mortsauf, she implored me to make my way to Chateauroux, and so round

by Issoudun and Orleans to Paris with what haste I could. I tried to
resist; but she commanded me, saying that my guardian angel spoke. I

obeyed. Our farewell was, this time, dim with tears; she feared the
allurements of the life I was about to live. Is it not a serious thing

to enter the maelstrom of interests, passions, and pleasures which
make Paris a dangerous ocean for chaste love and purity of conscience?

I promised to write to her every night, relating the events and
thoughts of the day, even the most trivial. When I gave the promise

she laid her head on my shoulder and said: "Leave nothing out;
everything will interest me."

She gave me letters for the duke and duchess, which I delivered the
second day after my return.

"You are in luck," said the duke; "dine here to-day, and go with me
this evening to the Chateau; your fortune is made. The king spoke of

you this morning, and said, 'He is young, capable, and trustworthy.'
His Majesty added that he wished he knew whether you were living or

dead, and in what part of France events had thrown you after you had
executed your mission so ably."

That night I was appointed master of petitions to the council of
State, and I also received a private and permanent place in the

employment of Louis XVIII. himself,--a confidential position, not
highly distinguished, but without any risks, a position which put me

at the very heart of the government and has been the source of all my
subsequent prosperity. Madame de Mortsauf had judged rightly. I now

owed everything to her; power and wealth, happiness and knowledge; she
guided and encouraged me, purified my heart, and gave to my will that

unity of purpose without which the powers of youth are wasted. Later I
had a colleague; we each served six months. We were allowed to supply

each other's place if necessary; we had rooms at the Chateau, a
carriage, and large allowances for travelling when absent on missions.

Strange position! We were the secret disciples of a monarch in a
policy to which even his enemies have since done signal justice; alone

with us he gave judgment on all things, foreign and domestic, yet we
had no legitimate influence; often we were consulted like Laforet by

Moliere, and made to feel that the hesitations of long experience were
confirmed or removed by the vigorous perceptions of youth.

In other respects my future was secured in a manner to satisfy
ambition. Beside my salary as master of petitions, paid by the budget

of the council of State, the king gave me a thousand francs a month
from his privy purse, and often himself added more to it. Though the

king knew well that no young man of twenty-three could long bear up
under the labors with which he loaded me, my colleague, now a peer of

France, was not appointed till August, 1817. The choice was a
difficult one; our functions demanded so many capabilities that the

king was long in coming to a decision. He did me the honor to ask
which of the young men among whom he was hesitating I should like for

an associate. Among them was one who had been my school-fellow at
Lepitre's; I did not select him. His Majesty asked why.

"The king," I replied, "chooses men who are equallyfaithful, but
whose capabilities differ. I choose the one whom I think the most

able, certain that I shall always be able to get on with him."
My judgment coincided with that of the king, who was pleased with the

sacrifice I had made. He said on this occasion, "You are to be the
chief"; and he related these circumstances to my colleague, who

became, in return for the service I had done him, my good friend. The
consideration shown to me by the Duc de Lenoncourt set the tone of

that which I met with in society. To have it said, "The king takes an
interest in the young man; that young man has a future, the king likes

him," would have served me in place of talents; and it now gave to the
kindly welcome accorded to youth a certain respect that is only given

to power. In the salon of the Duchesse de Lenoncourt and also at the
house of my sister who had just married the Marquis de Listomere, son

of the old lady in the Ile St. Louis, I gradually came to know the
influential personages of the Faubourg St. Germain.

Henriette herself put me at the heart of the circle then called "le
Petit Chateau" by the help of her great-aunt, the Princesse de

Blamont-Chauvry, to whom she wrote so warmly in my behalf that the
princess immediately sent for me. I cultivated her and contrived to

please her, and she became, not my protectress but a friend, in whose
kindness there was something maternal. The old lady took pains to make

me intimate with her daughter Madame d'Espard, with the Duchesse de
Langeais, the Vicomtesse de Beauseant, and the Duchesse de

Maufrigneuse, women who held the sceptre of fashion, and who were all
the more gracious to me because I made no pretensions and was always

ready to be useful and agreeable to them. My brother Charles, far from
avoiding me, now began to lean upon me; but my rapid success roused a

secret jealousy in his mind which in after years caused me great
vexation. My father and mother, surprised by a triumph so unexpected,

felt their vanity flattered, and received me at last as a son. But
their feeling was too artificial, I might say false, to let their

present treatment have much influence upon a sore heart. Affectations
stained with selfishness win little sympathy; the heart abhors

calculations and profits of all kinds.
I wrote regularly to Henriette, who answered by two letters a month.

Her spirit hovered over me, her thoughts traversed space and made the