Hastening from the village he took the road to the woods."This Stephane is decidedly a nuisance," thought he."Three weeks since he surprised me at a bright fountain, where I was deliciously dreaming, and put my fancies to flight, and now by his impertinent babbling he has spoiled a fete in which I took interest and pleasure.What is he holding in reserve for me? The most annoying part of it is, that henceforth I shall be condemned to see him daily.Even to-day, in a few hours, I shall meet him at his father's table.Presentiments do not always deceive, and at first sight I recognize in him a strong enemy to my repose and happiness;but I shall manage to keep him at a distance.We won't distress ourselves over a trifle.What does philosophy amount to, if the happiness of a philosopher is to be at the mercy of a spoiled child!"Thus saying, he drew from his pocket a book which he often carried in his walks: It was a volume of Goethe, containing the admirable treatise on the "Metamorphosis of Plants." He began to read, often raising his head from the page to gaze at a passing cloud, or a bird fluttering from tree to tree.To this pleasant occupation he abandoned himself for nearly an hour, when he heard the neighing of a horse behind him, and turning, he saw Stephane advancing at full speed on his superb chestnut and followed at a few paces by his groom, mounted on a gray horse.Gilbert's first impulse was to dart into a path which opened at his left, and thus gain the shelter of the copse; but he did not wish to give Stephane the pleasure of imagining that he was afraid of him, and so continued on his way, his eyes riveted upon the book.
Stephane soon came up to him, and bringing his horse to a walk, thus accosted him:
"Do you know, sir, that you are not very polite? You quitted me abruptly, without taking leave.Your proceedings are singular, and you seem to be a stranger to the first principles of good breeding.""What do you expect, my dear sir?" answered Gilbert."You were so amiable, so prepossessing the first time I had the honor of meeting you, that I was discouraged.I said to myself, that do what Iwould, I should always be in arrears to you.""You are spiteful, Mr.Secretary," retorted Stephane."What, have you not forgotten that little affair at the spring?""You have taken no trouble, it seems, to make me forget it.""It is true, I was wrong," replied he with a sneer; "wait a moment, I will dismount, go upon my knees there in the middle of the road, and say to you in dolorous voice, 'Sir, I'm grieved, heart-broken, desperate,'--For what? I know not.Tell me, I pray you, sir, for what must I beg your pardon? For if I rightly remember, you commenced by raising your cane to me.
"I did not raise my cane to you," replied Gilbert, beside himself with indignation; "I contented myself with parrying the blow which you were about to give me.""It was not my intention to strike you," rejoined Stephane, impetuously."And besides, learn once for all, that between us things are not equal, and that even should I provoke you, you would be a wretch to raise the end of your finger against me.""Oh, that is too much!" cried Gilbert, laughing loudly.
"And why so, my little friend?"
"Because--because--" stammered Stephane; and then suddenly stopped.
An expression of bitter sadness passed over his face; his brows contracted and his eyes became fixed.It was thus that terrible paroxy** had commenced which so alarmed Gilbert at their first meeting.This time, fortunately, the attack was less violent.The good Gilbert passed quickly from anger to pity; "there is a secret wound in that heart," thought he, and he was still more convinced of it when, after a long pause Stephane, recovering the use of his speech, said to him in a broken voice: "I was ill the other day, Ioften am.People should have some consideration for invalids."Gilbert made no answer; he feared by a hard word to exasperate his soul so passionate, and so little master of itself; but he thought that when Stephane felt ill, he had better stay in his room.
They walked on some moments in silence until, recovering from his dejection, Stephane said ironically: "You made a mistake in leaving the fete so soon.If you had stayed until the end, you would have heard Christ and his mother sing; you lost a charming duet.""Let us drop that subject," interrupted Gilbert; "we could not understand each other.Yours is a kind of pleasantry for which Ihave but little taste."
"Pedant!" murmured Stephane, turning his head, then adding with animation: "It is just because I respect religion that I do not like to see it burlesqued and parodied.Let a true angel appear and I am ready to render him homage; but I am enraged when I see great seraph's wings tied with white strings to the shoulders of wicked, boorish, little thieves, liars, cowards, slaves, and rascals.Their hypocritical airs do not impose on me, for I read their base natures in their eyes.I detest all affectations, all shams.I have the misfortune of being able to see through all masks.""These are very old words for such very young lips," answered Gilbert sadly."I suspect, my child, you are repeating a lesson you have learned.""And what do you know of my age?" cried he angrily."By what do you judge? Are faces clocks which mark the hours and minutes of life? Well, yes, I am but sixteen; but I have lived longer than you.I am not a library rat, and have not studied the world in duodecimos.Thank God! for the advancement of my education.He has gathered under my eyes a few specimens of the human race which have enabled me to judge of the rest, and the more experience Igain, the more I am convinced that all men are alike.On that account I scorn them all,--all without exception!""I thank you sincerely for myself and your groom," answered Gilbert smiling.
