“I knew but too well that I should lose my time, if I were to recall to her that I was not quite as guilty as she would make me out; if I were to show her that her vengeance would fall less upon myself than upon her husband and her children; and that, although she might blame the count for the conditions of their marriage, her daughters, at least, were innocent.
“I looked in vain for an opening out of this horrible difficulty. Upon my honor, Magloire, there were moments when I thought I would pretend getting married, for the purpose of inducing the countess to act, and of bringing upon myself these threats which were hanging over me. I fear no danger; but I cannot bear to know it to exist, and to wait for it with folded hands: I must go forth and meet it.
“The thought that the countess should use her husband for the purpose of keeping me bound shocked me. It seemed to me ridiculous and ignoble that she should make her husband the guardian of her love. Did she think I was afraid of her?
“In the meantime, my mother had asked me what was the result of my reflections on the subject of marriage; and I blushed with shame as I told her that I was not disposed to marry as yet, as I felt too young to accept the responsibility of a family. It was so; but, under other circumstances, I should hardly have put in that plea. I was thus hesitating, and thinking how and when I should be able to make an end of it, when the war broke out. I felt naturally bound to offer my services. I hastened to Boiscoran. They had just organized the volunteers of the district; and they made me their captain. With them I joined the army of the Loire. In my state of mind, war had nothing fearful for me: every excitement was welcome that made me forget the past. There was, consequently, no merit in my courage. Nevertheless, as the weeks passed, and then the months, without my hearing a word about the Countess Claudieuse, I began secretly to hope that she had forgotten me; and that, time and absence doing their work, she was giving me up.
“When peace was made, I returned to Boiscoran; and the countess gave no more signs of life now than before. I began to feel reassured, and to recover possession of myself, when one day M. de Chandore invited me to dinner. I went. I saw Miss Dionysia.
“I had known her already for some time; and the recollection of her had, perhaps, had its influence upon my desire to quit the countess. Still I had always had self-control enough to avoid her lest I should draw some fatal vengeance upon her. When I was brought in contact with her by her grandfather, I had no longer the heart to avoid her; and, on the day on which I thought I read in her eyes that she loved me I made up my mind, and I resolved to risk every thing.
“But how shall I tell you what I suffered, Magloire, and with what anxiety I asked every evening when I returned to Boiscoran,—
“‘No letter yet?’
“None came; and still it was impossible that the Countess Claudieuse should not have heard of my marriage. My father had called on M. de Chandore, and asked him for the hand of his grand-daughter for me. I had been publicly acknowledged as her betrothed; and nothing was now to be done but to fix the wedding-day.
“This silence frightened me.”