"As good an epitaph," said Doctor Louts, "as could be graven upon any tombstone."
The next day Martin Hartog was engaged, but when I spoke to him about his daughter he declined to allow her to enter service. He had always maintained her, and he hoped to be always able to do so. She could live with him in the gardener's cottage attached to the house, and he promised that I should never find her in my way. If I objected to her living with him in the cottage he would remain where he was, and come to his work every morning, and if that would not do, why, he could not accept the employment I offered him. What particularly struck me in him was the tender tones in which he spoke of his daughter; she was evidently the treasure of his life. In the course of a day or two, when I saw her--for Martin was engaged upon his own conditions, which were quite suitable to me--I was not surprised at this, for she was a maiden of singular beauty.
I pass over all further details with respect to the house of which I became the tenant. It will be sufficient to say that the work proceeded satisfactorily, though its complete execution occupied a longer time than I expected. I spared no money, and insisted upon the appointments, within and without, being of such an order as to be worthy of the dear friends whom I hoped to receive often as my guests. The association between me and the members of Doctor Louis's family grew closer and more binding in its intimate relationship; perfect confidence was established between us, and it made me glad to think that they regarded me almost as one of themselves. I faithfully observed the contract into which I had entered with Doctor Louis; nearly three months of the twelve belonged to the past, and nothing had occurred to disturb my tranquillity.
Before the end of the week I expected to remove from Doctor Louis's house. He and I were frequently together when he went to visit those of his patients who lived at a distance, and on one occasion at this period we had arranged to ride in company to a village situated sixteen miles from Nerac, and on our return to dine at an inn, and visit some caves which had just been discovered, and which were said to contain, among other relics of the past, bones and skeletons of animals now strange to the district.
On our way out of Nerac we met the village postman, who gave Doctor Louis a letter. He glanced at it, and saying "Ah, a letter from Emilius," opened and read it as we ambled along the soft forest track.
[CHAPTER X.]
A letter from Emilius! The words seemed to burn themselves on my brain. The tone in which they were uttered denoted satisfaction. It was unreasonable, I knew, to torture myself about such a trifle, but my love for Lauretta was so absorbing that the least thing was sufficient to prick it into misery. I felt that I might as well be jealous of the air that kissed her cheek as of a man whom I had never seen, and who had given me absolutely no cause for jealousy. I do not attempt to justify myself; I simply record the fact.
After reading the letter Doctor Louis put it in his pocket, and to my great comfort presently spoke upon the subject that occupied my mind. Had he not done so I should myself have managed to approach it, and in so doing might have betrayed myself, as I feared would be the case when Lauretta had mentioned the names of Eric and Emilius. The doctor commenced by asking whether in any of our conversations he had ever referred to two young friends of his, Eric and Emilius, from one of whom he had just received a letter. I answered No, but that once Lauretta had spoken of them in a tone which made me curious about them.
"They are brothers, I believe," I observed.
"Yes," said Doctor Louis, "twin brothers, who commenced life with a strange history--which," he added, "somewhat reverses the order of things."