I was in love with her eighteen years. No woman, no young girl whom I had ever met, had offered me such clearness of regard, such freshness. The others, like the children of St. Moritz, had created a great uproar in order to arouse the springtime in my heart. It was too soon, or maybe the barbarians lacked the grace of our little children at the Sleeping Woods, for whom a song without such a multitude of brass pans and drums, was sufficient to announce the coming of joy.
* * *
I should have delighted in what was to me an unpublished story, in the feeling of new birth into such supreme love as it is the privilege of few lives to know; but instead I plotted an infernal scheme of which, as I confess it to-day, after so long a time, I am still ashamed. My absolute power recognised no scruples. The persons with whom I associated habitually scoffed freely at conventionalities and all moral restraint, and treated virtue, honour, and respect for women as hypocrisy. I was willing to betray without remorse the confidence of the Mairieux. As for the complicity of the young girl in my scheme, I did not imagine that the whim of a multi-millionaire could encounter obduracy. Must she not, like her mother, be dying of ennui “in this desert”? I would awaken my sleeping beauty of the woods, and carry her off to Paris. What could be more natural? What more fine?
My plan was laid. There only remained the simple task of securing Raymonde’s consent. I might obtain it by means of jewels as in Faust, or through the fascination of Paris as in Manon. The everlasting presence of her father prevented my paving the way, but I took advantage one day of a sufficiently useless forestry investigation with which I had purposely charged M. Mairieux, to propose to our Amazon that I should accompany her alone on her ride. I intended to seize the opportunity to open negotiations. Our conversation was of the shortest, and I shall record it faithfully:
“Mlle. Raymonde,” I began, “would you not like to go to Paris?”
“Of course,” she answered, “I should love it.”
“With me? Would you consent if I asked you very nicely?”
“Oh yes, with you. Because in the forest I can guide you, but in Paris you would be guide.”
She laughed as she lowered her head to avoid a branch. I can see her now!
“We’ll go as soon as possible,” I said.