I felt that I could bear no more; and leaping into the saddle, I struck my horse with the spur, and galloped away from the Prés Vallée and the many dear objects that it contained. Those who have lost all that was nearest to their heart on earth may judge what were my feelings for the first ten miles. It were useless to detail all that I experienced:--the bitter disappointment, the burning regret, the swelling of the sad heart, the fire of the agitated brain. I have spoken of it all too much already; and, besides, it is impossible to give any idea of sensations which I do not believe that many can feel, and which those who can feel must know that it is impossible to relate.
My thoughts in regard to Laura were, indeed, a wild chaos of everything painful and distressing, without form or consistency. Towards Monsieur de Villardin, however, my feelings were more clearly denned; and, notwithstanding all that I suffered, I did full justice to the noble and generous conduct which he had displayed towards me. I saw and felt even then, that his kindness--that his generous sympathy, under the painful circumstances in which I was placed, would, at some future period, when time should have softened the pangs that it could never cure, become one of the sweetest memories for my after years, and bind me to that noble-hearted man by a tie that could never be broken. I saw, too, hi examining his behaviour, that the memory of all he himself had felt had greatly influenced his conduct. It was the same noble spirit which, moved by passion and by the arts of others to absolute madness, had in former days caused his own wretchedness and misery, that now, divested of any personal passion, softened and purified by long years of sorrow and regret, led him to sympathize deeply and sincerely with two hearts, which he was bound by an obligation he could not violate to tear asunder. His unshaken kindness--the generous confidence that he had reposed in me, which was the more touching from his heart not being naturally a confiding one--the sympathy he had shown--the allowances he had made--all affected me much; and, although I could not but think he was wrong in not permitting Laura to decide for herself, though I thought that no promise could bind a father to use absolute compulsion with his child, yet his conduct towards myself left me without a word to say, and made me love him the more deeply even while he inflicted the most bitter of disappointments.
These were the only alleviating feelings which my heart experienced, as I rode on towards Dumont. All the rest was bitterness itself; and, although I had by this time made up my mind to the belief that it would be criminal to expose myself to danger in a greater degree now than I would have done upon any other occasion, yet I acknowledge that I was in that frame of mind in which death would have been a relief; and that I should have blessed the hand which took a life that I looked upon as a prolongation of misery through a long and tedious series of years. Such were my thoughts as I rode through a part of the forest in which Monsieur de Villardin had told me that some outrages had lately been committed; and I could not help feeling that if a chance shot from some of the plunderers that still infested the country were to lay me low, it would be but a happy termination of sufferings to which I now saw no end. Death, however, has his own appointed time; and as it is vain to fly from him, so also is it vain to seek him ere the moment be come. Nothing disturbed me on my journey, no sign of marauders was visible as I rode along, not a creature did I meet but a forester with his axe upon his shoulder, and a thin priest riding quickly along on his ambling palfrey. Such were the only sights which I saw in the forest, except the tall trees, and the yellow banks, and the jays fluttering and chattering from bough to bough.
Sombre and silent as was every feeling of my bosom, my little page Clement endeavoured in vain to seduce me into conversation while we rode along; but still nothing could repress the joy of his heart; and, indeed, no small delight did he seem to experience at the idea of revisiting Dumont, and the scenes in which I had first found him, of all which he had preserved the most perfect recollection, and for which he seemed to entertain a peculiar regard. After riding about twenty miles, we paused to refresh our horses, and, remembering that the boy's frame was not so strong as my own, I asked him if he were fatigued, and would like to remain for the night at the auberge where we had made our halt; but he declared eagerly that he was not tired in the least, and that he had much rather proceed to Dumont as fast as possible. After a short repose, then, we resumed our journey, and reached the place of our destination before night.
One or two female servants, who had remained in the château, soon put my apartments in order; but still, about the whole place, there was that air of chilly solitude which every house gains by being left long unoccupied. My own heart had no gay feelings to cheer or enliven it; all the memories associated with every object around me were of the most gloomy and painful description; the sear leaves of autumn were upon every tree, a dull covering of grey vapour veiled the brightness of the sky, a sharp, parching wind was blowing the clouds of dust down the dim deserted avenues of the park, while the closed windows of the greater part of the building spoke the want of inhabitants, and the aspect of everything harmonised too well with the dark and sombre thoughts that crowded my own bosom. I have felt pain, and anxiety, and misery, at different periods of my life, but I never, throughout the whole range of remembrance, can call to mind having experienced such deep despondency as on that night of my arrival at Dumont.
[CHAPTER XXXVII.]
The greatest blessing that could befal me, under such circumstances as I have described, was sleep procured by great corporeal exhaustion. I had not closed an eye the night before, I had slept but little on those that preceded it, and now a ride of forty miles, without having taken any sort of refreshment, had greatly wearied me. When I lay down to seek repose, then, I found it; and, though it was far from that sweet, calm slumber which I had known in former years, yet still it was a relief. The first part of the night I was tormented with dreams, and more than once I started up and found myself, ere I was well awake, laying my hand upon my sword, which I had cast down by my bedside on going to rest. Less disturbed repose, however, came with the morning; and, when I awoke, I found that the sun had risen more than an hour. I was glad that it was so, for my days were without object, and my waking hours were sure to be hours of pain.
Nevertheless, it must not be supposed that I abandoned myself weakly to thoughts which were only calculated to unnerve my mind, or that I determined purposely to cultivate the feelings which made life so bitter; far from it; I knew, indeed, that those thoughts and those feelings would engross my heart and mind, by whatever means or devices I might attempt to banish them; but, at the same time, I resolved to do all that lay within my power, to turn my attention to other things, and to occupy myself with studies and pursuits that might give me relief. I laid out many a plan for the day, so as, if possible, to leave not a moment vacant for regret and sorrow to intrude themselves upon me. In the first place, I thought I would read for a couple of hours; and then I would trace down the bank of the stream, to the spot where the unhappy Duchess de Villardin had perished; I would then ride out to Juvigny, and, seeing Jacques Marlot, would examine all that was passing on the estate, and by planning with him every improvement I could think of, would endeavour to furnish occupation for many succeeding days.
In my very first attempt, however, I found how foolish it was to make such calculations. There stood the little library which had been given to me by Father Ferdinand, and certainly it contained many a book which might have afforded matter for instruction, consolation, and amusement; but I took down one after another and attempted to read in vain. My eyes wandered over the lines, my hands turned the pages, I caught now and then the sense of a sentence or a paragraph; but, upon the whole, I was reading without understanding, and nine times out of ten I could not have told whether the words were French, or Latin, or Arabic. Fancying that it was something dry and dull in the nature of the good priest's selection which prevented me from attending, I went down to the great library, caused the windows to be thrown open, and chose whatever I thought was most likely to attract and please me: but it was still the same. Replacing the books, I determined not to attempt to read till my mind was more calm; and, in the meantime, by combining corporeal with mental occupation, to force my thoughts from the channel in which they were so strongly disposed to flow.
I now remembered that I had not seen my little page during the morning, and, on inquiry, found that he had gone out by daybreak, and had not yet returned.