"Yes," she replied, "he did. But if he took so much trouble to deceive me, it was because he loved me, because he was determined to have my love at any price."
We were silent for a moment; then Juliette resumed her narrative.
[IX]
The winter came at last; we had made our plans to endure all its rigors rather than abandon our dear retreat. Leoni told me that he had never been so happy, that I was the only woman he had ever loved, that he was ready to renounce the world in order to live and die in my arms. His taste for dissipation, his passion for gambling—all had vanished, forgotten forever. Oh! how grateful I was to see that man, who shone so in society and was so flattered and courted, renounce without regret all the intoxicating joys of a life of excitement and festivities, to shut himself up with me in a cottage! And be sure, Don Aleo, that Leoni was not deceiving me at that time. While it is true that he had very strong reasons for keeping out of sight, it is none the less certain that he was happy in his retreat, and that he loved me there. Could he have feigned that perfect serenity during six whole months, unchanged for a single day? And why should he not have loved me? I was young and fair, I had left everything for him and I adored him. Understand, I am no longer under any delusion as to his character; I know everything and I will tell you the whole truth. His character is very ugly and very beautiful; very vile and very grand; when one has not the strength to hate the man, one must needs love him and become his victim.
But the winter began so fiercely that our residence in the valley became extremely dangerous. In a few days the snow reached the level of our chalet; it threatened to bury it and to cause our deaths by starvation. Leoni insisted on remaining; he wanted to lay in a stock of provisions and defy the enemy; but Joanne assured him that we should inevitably be lost if we did not beat a retreat at once; that such a winter had not been seen for ten years, and that when the thaw came the chalet would be swept away like a feather by the avalanches, unless Saint Bernard and Our Lady of the Snow-drifts should save it by a miracle.
"If I were alone," said Leoni, "I would wait for a miracle and laugh at the snow-drifts; but I have no courage when you share my dangers. We will go away to-morrow."
"We must do it," I said; "but where shall we go? I shall be recognized and betrayed very soon; I shall be compelled by force to return to my parents."
"There are a thousand ways of eluding men and laws," replied Leoni with a smile; "we can surely find one; don't be alarmed; the whole world is at our disposal."
"And where shall we begin?" I asked, forcing myself to smile too.
"I don't know yet," he replied, "but what does it matter? we shall be together; where can we be unhappy?"