But this was not enough for the accursed adventuress. She wanted to raise a barrier between them which should be more than a mere moral and social obstacle, one of those difficulties which no human power, no lover’s ingenuity, could overcome,—the ocean and thousands of miles.
“Oh, no!” he cried in his anguish, “a thousand times no! Rather give up my career, rather send in my resignation.”
Hence, the very next day, he put on his uniform, determined to lay the matter, first before that officer who was his immediate superior, but resolved, if he should not succeed there, to go up to the minister himself.
He had never worn that uniform since the night of a large court-ball, where he had danced with Henrietta. It was nearly a year ago, a few weeks before the death of the Countess Ville-Handry. As he compared his happiness in those days with his present desperate condition, he was deeply moved; and his eyes were still brimful of tears when he reached the navy department, towards ten o’clock in the morning.
The officer whom he called upon was an old captain, an excellent man, who had practised the appearance of a grim, stern official so long, that he had finally become in reality what he only wished to appear.
Seeing Daniel enter his office, he thought he came to inform him of his promotion, and made a great effort to smile as he hailed him with the words,—
“Well, Lieut. Champcey, we are satisfied, I hope?”
And, perceiving that Daniel did not wear the epaulets of his new rank, he added,—
“But how is that, lieutenant? Perhaps you have not heard yet?”
“I beg your pardon, captain.”