I remained where I was, utterly annihilated. It seemed to me that from henceforth my life was irreparably devoted to evil and misfortune.

In spite of which I was resolved to see Hélène once more.

CHAPTER X
THE CONTRACT

For four days after the scene in the pavilion, it was impossible for me to see either Hélène or my aunt; I knew only from their women servants that they were both extremely ill.

Those days were frightful ones for me. Since the fatal moment when I had so brutally crushed the tender and delicate affections of Hélène, my eyes had been opened. I had repeated word for word her innocent recital wherein she had told the history of her life, that is to say, the story of her love for me; the more I analysed each phrase, each expression, the more I became convinced of the purity of her sentiments, for I remembered many occasions when she had manifested the rarest delicacy.

Then, as it always happens when all hope is for ever ruined, her precious qualities shone with a brighter lustre. I saw and recognised, one by one, all the chances of happiness that I lost. Where should I ever find so many conditions of felicity united,—beauty, tenderness, grace, elegance? And then the thought of the future without Hélène terrified me. I knew that I was neither strong enough to live a retired and solitary life, or to traverse without misfortune the thousand experiences of an aimless and adventurous existence.

I foresaw the violence of my passions,—everything would tend to lead me into excesses. I was independent, rich, and young; yet, however desirable such a life of pleasure might be for another in my position, the idea of it was distressing to me; it was a torrent which I could see rushing along, but knew not whither it would lead me. Would it plunge into a bottomless gulf? Or, later, calming the impetuosity of its waters, would it become a peaceful current?

Then, hard and defiant, as I had just found myself capable of becoming towards Hélène, who was so noble and so good, in what love would I ever have faith in the future? I should never even be able to enjoy those rare moments of effusive confidences that sometimes shine so brilliantly from out the stormy clouds of passion. In a word, isolation alarmed me,—it would crush me under its weight of coldness and dullness,—and without knowing the reason, the life of society affrighted me. Like a wretched man, seized with vertigo, I saw the abyss in all its horror, and yet a fatal and irresistible attraction dragged me towards it.

Filled with such thoughts and such fears, I determined to make every attempt to destroy in Hélène's heart the dreadful impression I must have left there.