The Wandering Jew — Complete
"I have no secrets, madame, from my best friend; you may speak in the
presence of this young lady."
"I have long known," replied Madame de Saint-Dizier, with bitter irony,
"that in all things you care little for secrecy, and that you are easy
in the choice of what you call your friends. But you will permit me to
act differently from you. If you have no secrets, madame, I have--and I
do not choose to confide them to the first comer."
So saying, the pious lady glanced contemptuously at the sempstress. The
latter, hurt at the insolent tone of the princess, answered mildly and
simply:
"I do not see what can be the great difference between the first and the
last comer to Mdlle. de Cardoville's."
"What! can it speak!" cried the princess, insolently.
"It can at least answer, madame," replied Mother Bunch, in her calm
voice.
"I wish to see you alone, niece--is that clear?" said the princess,
impatiently, to her niece.
"I beg your pardon, but I do not quite understand your highness," said
Adrienne, with an air of surprise. "This young lady, who honors me with
her friendship, is willing to be present at this interview, which you
have asked for--I say she has consented to be present, for it needs,
I confess, the kindest condescension in her to resign herself, from
affection for me, to hear all the graceful, obliging, and charming
things which you have no doubt come hither to communicate."
"Madame--" began the princess, angrily.
"Permit me to interrupt your highness," returned Adrienne, in a tone
of perfect amenity, as if she were addressing the most flattering
compliments to her visitor. "To put you quite at your ease with the lady
here, I will begin by informing you that she is quite aware of all the
holy perfidies, pious wrongs, and devout infamies, of which you nearly
made me the victim. She knows that you are a mother of the Church, such
as one sees but few of in these days. May I hope, therefore, that your
highness will dispense with this delicate and interesting reserve?"
"Really," said the princess, with a sort of incensed amazement, "I
scarcely know if I wake or sleep."
"Dear me!" said Adrienne, in apparent alarm; "this doubt as to the state
of your faculties is very shocking, madame. I see that the blood flies
to your head, for your face sufficiently shows it; you seem oppressed,
confined, uncomfortable--perhaps (we women may say so between
ourselves), perhaps you are laced a little too tightly, madame?"
These words, pronounced by Adrienne with an air of warm interest and
perfect simplicity, almost choked the princess with rage. She became
crimson, seated herself abruptly, and exclaimed: "Be it so, madame! I
prefer this reception to any other. It puts me at my ease, as you say."
"Does it indeed, madame?" said Adrienne, with a smile. "You may now at
least speak frankly all that you feel, which must for you have the charm
of novelty! Confess that you are obliged to me for enabling you, even
for a moment, to lay aside that mask of piety, amiability, and goodness,
which must be so troublesome to you."
As she listened to the sarcasms of Adrienne (an innocent and excusable
revenge, if we consider all the wrongs she had suffered), Mother Bunch
felt her heart sink within her; for she dreaded the malignity of the
princess, who replied, with the utmost calmness: "A thousand thanks,
madame, for your excellent intentions and sentiments. I appreciate them
as I ought, and I hope in a short time to prove it to you."
"Well, madame," said Adrienne, playfully, "let us have it all at once. I
am full of impatient curiosity."
"And yet," said the princess, feigning in her turn a bitter and ironical
delight, "you are far from having the least notion of what I am about to
announce to you."
"Indeed! I fear that your highness's candor and modesty deceive you,"
replied Adrienne, with the same mocking affability; "for there are very
few things on your part that can surprise me, madame. You must be aware
that from your highness, I am prepared for anything."
"Perhaps, madame," said the princess, laying great stress on her
words, "if, for instance, I were to tell you that within twenty-four
hours--suppose between this and to-morrow-thou will be reduced to
poverty--"
This was so unexpected, that Mdlle. de Cardoville started in spite of
herself, and Mother Bunch shuddered.
"Ah, madame!" said the princess, with triumphant joy and cruel mildness,
as she watched the growing surprise of her niece, "confess that I have
astonished you a little. You were right in giving to our interview the
turn it has taken. I should have needed all sorts of circumlocution to
say to you, 'Niece, to-morrow you will be as poor as you are rich to
day.' But now I can tell you the fact quite plainly and simply."
Recovering from her first amazement, Adrienne replied, with a calm
smile, which checked the joy of the princess: "Well, I confess frankly,
madame, that you have surprised me; I expected from you one of those
black pieces of malignity, one of those well-laid plots, in which you
are known to excel, and I did not think you would make all this fuss
about such a trifle."
"To be ruined--completely ruined," cried the princess, "and that by to
morrow--you that have been so prodigal, will see your house, furniture,
horses, jewels, even the ridiculous dresses of which you are so vain,
all taken from you--do you call that a trifle? You, that spend with
indifference thousands of louis, will be reduced to a pension inferior
to the wages you gave your foot-boy--do you call that a trifle?"
To her aunt's cruel disappointment, Adrienne, who appeared quite to have
recovered her serenity was about to answer accordingly, when the door
suddenly opened, and, without being announced, Prince Djalma entered the
room. A proud and tender expression of delight beamed from the radiant
brow of Adrienne at sight of the prince, and it is impossible to
describe the look of triumphant happiness and high disdain that she cast
upon the Princess de Saint-Dizier. Djalma himself had never looked more
handsome, and never had more intense happiness been impressed on a human
countenance. The Hindoo wore a long robe of white Cashmere, adorned with
innumerable stripes of gold and purple; his turban was of the same color
and material; a magnificent figured shawl was twisted about his waist.
On seeing the Indian, whom she had not hoped to meet at Mdlle. de
Cardoville's, the Princess de Saint-Dizier could not at first conceal
her extreme surprise. It was between these four, then, that the
following scene took place.
CHAPTER LIX. MEMORIES.
Djalma, having never before met the Princess de Saint-Dizier at
Adrienne's, at first appeared rather astonished at her presence. The
princess, keeping silence for a moment, contemplated with implacable
hatred and envy those two beings, both so fair and young, so loving and
happy. Suddenly she started, as if she had just remembered something of
great importance, and for some seconds she remained absorbed in thought.
Adrienne and Djalma availed themselves of this interval to gaze fondly
on each other, with a sort of ardent idolatry, which filled their eyes
with sweet tears. Then, at a movement of the Princess de Saint-Dizier,
who seemed to rouse herself from her momentary trance, Mdlle. de
Cardoville said to the young prince, with a smile: "My dear cousin, I
have to repair an omission (voluntary, I confess, and for good reasons),
in never having before mentioned to you one of my relations, whom I have
now the honor to present to you. The Princess de Saint-Dizier!"
Djalma bowed; but Mdlle. de Cardoville resumed, just as her aunt was
about to make some reply: "Her Highness of Saint-Dizier came very kindly
to inform me of an event which is a most fortunate one for me, and of
which I will speak to you hereafter, cousin--unless this amiable
lady should wish to deprive me of the pleasure of making such a
communication."
The unexpected arrival of the prince, and the recollections which had
suddenly occurred to the princess, had no doubt greatly modified her
first plans: for, instead of continuing the conversation with regard
to Adrienne's threatened loss of fortune, the princess answered, with a
bland smile, that covered an odious meaning: "I should be sorry, prince,
to deprive my dear and amiable niece of the pleasure of announcing to
you the happy news to which she alludes, and which, as a near relative,
I lost no time in communicating to her. I have here some notes on this
subject," added the princess, delivering a paper to Adrienne, "which I
hope will prove, to her entire satisfaction, the reality of what I have
announced to her."
"A thousand thanks, my dear aunt," said Adrienne, receiving the paper
with perfect indifference; "these precautions and proofs are quite
superfluous. You know that I always believe you on your word, when it
concerns your good feeling towards myself."
Notwithstanding his ignorance of the refined perfidy and cruel
politeness of civilized life, Djalma, endowed with a tact and fineness
of perception common to most natures of extreme susceptibility, felt
some degree of mental discomfort as he listened to this exchange of
false compliments. He could not guess their full meaning, but they
sounded hollow to his ear; and moreover, whether from instinct or
presentiment, he had conceived a vague dislike for the Princess de
Saint-Dizier. That pious lady, full of the great affair in hand, was a
prey to the most violent agitation, which betrayed itself in the growing
color of her cheeks, her bitter smile, and the malicious brightness of
her glance. As he gazed on this woman, Djalma was unable to conquer
his rising antipathy, and he remained silent and attentive, whilst his
handsome countenance lost something of its former serenity. Mother Bunch
also felt the influence of a painful impression. She glanced in terror
at the princess, and then imploringly at Adrienne, as though she
entreated the latter to but an end to an interview of which the young
sempstress foresaw the fatal consequences. But, unfortunately, the
Princess de Saint-Dizier was too much interested in prolonging this
conversation; and Mdlle. de Cardoville, gathering new courage and
confidence from the presence of the man she adored, took delight in
vexing the princess with the exhibition of their happy love.
After a short silence, the Princess de Saint-Dizier observed, in a soft
and insinuating tone: "Really, prince, you cannot think how pleased I
was to learn by public report (for people talk of nothing else, and
with good reason) of your chivalrous attachment to my dear niece; for,
without knowing it, you will extricate me from a difficult position."
Djalma made no answer, but he looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with a
surprised and almost sorrowful air, as if to ask what her aunt meant to
insinuate.
The latter, not perceiving this mute interrogation, resumed as follows:
"I will express myself more clearly, prince. You can understand that,
being the nearest relative of this dear, obstinate girl, I am more or
less responsible for her conduct in the eyes of the world; and you,
prince, seem just to have arrived on purpose, from the end of the
earth, to take charge of a destiny which had caused me considerable
apprehension. It is charming, it is excellent; and I know not which
most to admire, your courage or your good fortune." The princess threw a
glance of diabolical malice at Adrienne, and awaited her answer with an
air of defiance.
"Listen to our good aunt, my dear cousin," said the young lady, smiling
calmly. "Since our affectionate kinswoman sees you and me united and
happy, her heart is swelling with such a flood of joy, that it must run
over, and the effects will be delightful. Only have a little patience,