“Fire,” I said to him; “remember, monsieur, that this affair cannot end thus.”
He fired. I was not hit. Ernest handed me another pistol. I aimed at Dulac again, I pulled the trigger, and he fell.
I am not naturally cruel, but I wished that I had killed him.
XVII
A NEW CAUSE FOR UNHAPPINESS.—AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE
I left the wood at once; Ernest followed me, after telling Dulac’s second that he would send somebody to him.
At last, fate had been just; my thirst for vengeance had been satisfied. I should have felt a little relieved, but I did not; it was because I was not avenged on her who had injured me most. I thanked Ernest and left him, promising him to go often to his house. He insisted that I should come that very day to dine with them; but I felt that I must be alone a little longer. I would go when I had learned to endure, or at least to conceal, my sorrow.
I looked for an apartment in Ernest’s neighborhood, far away from that in which I had lived. I hired the first vacant one that I found, then returned home. I went to my landlord and paid what he demanded to allow me to move at once. At last I was free. I ordered my furniture to be moved instantly.
I dismissed my servant. I had no reason to complain of her, far from it; but she had been in my service during the time that I was determined to forget; I did not want to see her again. At last I was free. I gave her enough to enable her to wait patiently for other employment.
My furniture was taken to my new apartment on Rue Saint-Louis. I installed myself there. I felt better at once, for I breathed more freely there. There is nothing like change, for diseases of the heart as well as for those of the body.
I would have liked to go to see my son, but it was too late to start for Livry that day. I went to Eugénie’s banker to try to find out where she was. I wanted to write to her, I wanted her to give me back my daughter. Two children would be none too many to take the place of all that I had lost.