Marcel stayed behind in the laboratory, inactive, as though some dull preoccupation would give him no peace. He sat down in a large leather armchair he had gaily baptized the “alchemist’s armchair,” and, with open window to allow the sun to enter, he sat there in a reverie, until five o’clock struck.
He went down into the garden, walked past beds of rose-trees, and halted by the banks of the river, watching in the crystal waters a jack chasing a shoal of roaches, which, to escape the dreaded pursuit, leapt out of the water, like silver arrows. The clock at the entrance, as it struck, disturbed his thoughts, and he saw approaching him, and preceded by the porter, a tall, elegantly dressed young man, of very handsome features and blue eyes. As he drew near he took off his hat, bowed with considerable deference, and said, in a sing-song Italian accent—
“Have I the pleasure of addressing M. Marcel Baradier?”
“That is my name, sir,” said Marcel, examining the stranger with a sudden interest. “To what do I owe the honour of this visit!”
The young man gave a sidelong glance to assure himself that the porter had left the room, then, in haughty tones, said—
“As I have no one to present me, allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Cesare Agostini, of the Princes of Briviesca. I live at the Villa de la Cavée with my sister, and I have called to thank you for the kindness with which, yesterday, you—”
“What I did, sir, was merely natural; it was quite by chance that I met your sister. She is a stranger in these parts, and appeared to be sad, and in search of rest and quiet. All I did was to simply comply with her wishes so far as I could.”
Count Cesare bowed gracefully; a cloud came over his handsome face, and in accents of sadness he continued—
“My sister is, indeed, very sad; she has had a great deal of trouble. She has spent her strength in attending to the needs of a husband far older than herself, and whom she had the misfortune to lose some time ago. With the object of regaining her health, she has come into this valley, to seek calm and quiet. The waters of Ars, too, have been well recommended to us. But it is chiefly fresh air my sister needs, after being confined for long months by the bedside of a dying man.”
The handsome Italian several times shook his head, and said—