CHAPTER IV.
The Naiad.
I had hardly imparted this hope of success, when I was terrified at having entertained it myself, but I could not now withdraw. My beautiful client overwhelmed me with questions.
“Well, madame,” said I, “the means must be found of making the oracle speak, without my acting the part of an imposter; but you must furnish me with certain details which I lack, concerning the apparition, whose theatre of action as they affirm is this castle.”
“Will you look over the old papers from which I made my extracts?” cried she joyfully. “I have them here.” She opened a piece of furniture of which she had the key, and showed me quite a long account, with commentaries written at different epochs by different chroniclers attached to the chapel of the castle, or to the chapter of a neighboring convent that had been secularized under the last reign.
As I was in no hurry to undertake an engagement which would have abridged the time accorded to my mission I put off reading this fantastical bundle of papers until evening, and allowed myself to be chastely cajoled by my enchantress. It seemed to me that she was exercising a delicate coquetry, whether it was that she clung to her ideas to the extent of compromising herself a little in order to triumph eventually, whether my resistance excited her legitimate pride of an irresistible woman, or whether, in fine, and I dwelt with delight on this last supposition, she was animated by a particular regard for me.
She was forced to leave me, other visitors were arriving. There was company at dinner; she presented me to her noble neighbors with marked distinction, and showed me more consideration before them, than I had perhaps any right to expect. Some appeared to think that I was receiving more than my position entitled me to, and tried to make her so understand it. She proved that she feared no criticism, and showed so much courage in sustaining me that I began to lose my head.
When we were alone together, Madame d’Ionis asked me what I intended doing with the manuscripts relative to the apparition of the three green ladies? I was over excited, it seemed as if she really loved me and that I had now no occasion to fear her raillery. I then recounted ingenuously, the vision I had seen, and the one similar to it, that the abbé Lamyre had related to me.
“So I am forced to believe,” I added, “that conditions of the soul exist in which, equally without fear, charlatanism or supposition, certain ideas assume images which deceive our senses, and I wish to study these phenomena, that I have already witnessed, under the simple or sage conditions which have produced them. I do not conceal from you, that contrary to my habits of mind, far from guarding myself from the charm of these illusions, I will do everything in my power to yield my intellect up to them. And should I in this poetical disposition of mind, succeed in seeing or hearing some ghost who commands me to obey you, I will not draw back from the oath that M. d’Ionis or his mother may require. No one can force me to swear that I believe in the revelations of spirits or in apparitions of the dead, for perhaps I may not put absolute faith in them, but in asserting that I have heard voices, since even now I can affirm that I have seen shadows, I will not be a liar, and should I be taken for a fool, what do I care as long as you do me the honor of not sharing this opinion?”
Madame d’Ionis exhibited great surprise at what I told her, and asked me many questions relative to my vision in the ladies’ room. She listened without laughing, and was even astonished at the calmness with which I had undergone this strange adventure.
“I see,” said she, “that you are very strong-minded. As to me, I confess, that in your place I would have been afraid. Before permitting you to make another attempt, swear that you will be no more affected or frightened by it than the first time.”