The fire, however, went on within our hearts, though silently. We drank the intoxicating cup to the dregs, without knowing that it was wine. There was none to open our eyes--there was none to warn us; and, like all other persons in the same situation, we woke not from our dream till it was too late.
Such might not have been the case, had not the only member of the family who was likely to have given us warning and counsel--to have felt for all our feelings, and foreseen all our danger--had he not been absent during the whole of my stay at the Prés Vallée. I allude to Father Ferdinand, who, only two days before my arrival, had set out for Dumont. He did not return as soon as had been expected, and I more than once proposed to ride over to Dumont, and see him; but there was a fascination at the Prés Vallée which detained me with a power not to be resisted, and I put off my expedition from day to day, till at length an order arrived for Monsieur de Villardin and myself to resume our military duties, and we were obliged to prepare for our departure.
The summons came nearly a month sooner than we had expected, and of course caused no small bustle and confusion, especially as Monsieur de Villardin, yielding to the degree of corporeal inactivity, which, as I have before said, was creeping over him, determined to travel to Paris in his carriage, instead of on horseback; and consequently the time consumed on the journey was likely to be much greater than usual.
I had on a former occasion promised little Clement de la Marke to take him with me in the next campaign, and although I now felt some scruple at exposing a boy of his tender age to all the dangers and fatigues of a camp, yet he pressed me so vehemently to keep my word with him, that I at length consented; remembering how much more severe had been the hardships that surrounded my own early youth, and believing that the hard school in which my education had commenced had been ultimately of infinite benefit to me through life.
The day appointed for our departure speedily approached, and as it came nearer, the hours spent with Laura became doubly dear; nor indeed did she look less lovely, or less interesting, from a shade of melancholy that spread more and more over her fair face, as every minute that fled took something from the small space of time that we had yet to dream away in each other's society. She never loved parting from her friends, she said; and she knew not why, but she felt more apprehensive for her father than she had ever before done on his departure for the army. She besought me to be watchful of him, and to persuade him, as much as possible, to keep out of all unnecessary danger; but she said not a word of caution on my part. A thousand little traits, however, let me feel that she was not indifferent to my safety either, and she took great pains to show me how ungenerous and unkind it was towards friends and relations for any soldier to expose himself rashly and carelessly.
At length the day arrived; the horses were put to the carnage, and Monsieur de Villardin, myself, and little Clement, one by one took our leave of Laura, and departed. The tears streamed over her cheeks as she bade us adieu, but there was certainly nothing to point out that those tears flowed more painfully than her separation from her father under such circumstances might well justify. Monsieur de Villardin took his seat in one corner of the coach, and I in the other, and little Clement placed himself in the portiere, where he could more easily see what was passing around. Two other pages accompanied us, and a few attendants on horseback followed, while a number of servants had been sent forward with our chargers, in order to reach the capital by easy journeys. The Duke, silent and grave as usual, soon fell into a fit of thought, which lasted uninterrupted during the greater part of the day. The two pages, on the opposite side of the carriage, were as mute as mice, and little Clement, in his portiere, was too busily occupied with all the new objects that passed before his eyes, to break in upon our silence by anything more than a casual exclamation of wonder or pleasure, or by some question, which he generally answered himself, fully to his own satisfaction, before any one else could reply.
My thoughts were busy enough upon subjects which were destined to grow more and more painful under reflection. The first feelings to which I gave way were those of pure sorrow at parting with Laura de Villardin; and I felt, for the first time in my life, that faint sickness of heart, which I suppose every one feels in separating from a being so dear--that sensation of a deprivation and a void--that oppressive sense of the uncertainty of fate, which may ever throw so many obstacles in our way, ere we can again behold those that we so deeply love. Such feelings are painful enough in themselves; but I soon began to inquire their cause. I had been longer negligent in examining my own heart, and in tracing the latent causes of all that was working in it, than I had been for many years; but the magic which had withheld my thoughts from every other subject, and which had cast a veil over every other sensation, was now lost; and my mind naturally turned to inquire what was the real cause of all those new and mingled feelings, which, for six weeks, had been a source of such joy, and which now had left me full of sad thoughts and melancholy forebodings. The truth was no longer to be concealed: the very pain I felt at quitting Laura de Villardin told me that I loved her--the very depression of spirits, and distaste for the career before me--a career which had formerly occupied all my thoughts and wishes--now showed me where my hopes and pleasures all centred; and repeated, in language that I could not doubt, that I loved, and loved too deeply ever to forget.
Such a certainty, under some circumstances, might have so mingled hope and expectation with all the anxieties and apprehensions which follow every strong passion, that the whole would still have remained a pleasant dream to cheer me on upon the path of exertion and enterprise; but, situated as I was, the tardy discovery alone exposed to my sight a prospect of disappointment and despair. What could I hope?--what could I expect? I, a poor adventurer, with but the two recommendations of personal courage and noble birth; I, whose whole possessions on earth were owing to the generosity of others--whose way to fame and distinction had been opened by their kind endeavours--could I hope to win the heiress of one of the noblest houses and of the most splendid fortunes in all France; I, who had been her father's page; who owed him everything--fortune, station, and the means of gaining renown. Oh! what I would have given at that moment to have had the power of changing her I loved into the daughter of some poor gentleman, who would have gladly bestowed her without a portion.
Perhaps for a single instant one of the idle visions of hope broke in with a ray of light, as I remembered to what stations many young men, situated precisely as myself, had arisen by energy and good fortune; and especially when I thought of Mondejeu, afterwards Maréchal de Shulemberg, whom I myself recollected an unnoticed page in the house of the Duc de Bouillon, and who, by that time, had become governor of the important city of Arras, and was in the road to the highest honours of France. But such dreams were speedily at an end; for every way I turned my eyes, some new circumstance presented itself, to prove my situation more and more hopeless. The final stroke of all, however, was when I considered what would be the feelings of Monsieur de Villardin, if ever he discovered that I had dared to raise my hopes to the hand of his daughter; and still more, if he were to find that I had attempted, by any means, to win her affection. Would he not have a right, I asked myself, to accuse me of the basest ingratitude?--would he not be entitled to charge me with deceit and hypocrisy? Had I not already in some degree betrayed his trust, unconsciously, indeed, but still most foolishly? Ought I not to have looked into my own heart long before; and, judging by what I felt myself, have taken every care to guard against the slightest attempt to inspire the same feelings in the daughter of my benefactor?
I could not but acknowledge that if I had acted wisely or prudently, if I had been as watchful for his interests and for his peace as gratitude and affection ought to have made me, I should have played a different part, and avoided the society of her that I loved. I trusted, however, that it was not too late to remedy my folly. Whatever I had inflicted on myself, however irremediable was the state of disappointment and despair to which I had condemned my own heart, I hoped and believed that Laura's feelings had been less interested. If, indeed, there had been anything farther in her sentiments towards me than mere sisterly affection, I trusted that it would soon pass away; and I determined never to see her again till I could command my own demeanour, and behave to her in a very different manner from that in which I had conducted myself of late.