“Certainly.”
“Well, may I ask if Count George has been informed of Gabrielle's arrival?”
“No, not yet.”
“But he is doubtless aware of her intentions?”
“No, my friend, he is likewise ignorant of them. Though I had no doubt as to Gabrielle's success in her interview with the empress to-day, nevertheless, before giving George such a surprise, I wished to be absolutely sure there was no uncertainty to apprehend.”
“Oh! yes, I comprehend you. To lose such a hope, after once conceiving it, would indeed be more frightful than death!” said Clement, with a vivacity that struck the other. He soon continued in a calmer tone:
“One more question, Monsieur le Marquis—an absurd question, I acknowledge, but one I cannot resist asking at such a time. You know my position with regard to Gabrielle is that of a brother. Can you assure me that he whom she loves, and is thus going to wholly immolate herself for—can you assure me on your honor that he is worthy of her?—that he loves her?—that he loves her as much as a man ever loved a woman? I certainly cannot doubt it, but then I must see her happy in return for so much suffering—I must!” repeated he almost passionately, “and I beg a sincere reply to my question.”
The marquis hesitated a moment. Clement's vehemence struck him, and under the impression of his recent interview with George, he did not at first know how to reply. Should he betray his friend? Ought he to deceive him whose noble, upright look was fastened upon him? He remained uncertain for some moments; at length, he decided to be frank, and reply as candidly as he was questioned.
“You ask for the truth, Dornthal. Well, it is not in my power to affirm that George's love is at this moment all you desire. According to my impression, Gabrielle is now only a sweet dream of the past. But be easy, my dear friend; as soon as this dream becomes a reality, as soon as she appears before him—is with him—his—oh! then there is no doubt but the almost extinguished flame will revive and become as brilliant as it once was, and this charming creature will have no cause to suspect a shadow of forgetfulness had ever veiled her image. What do you expect, Dornthal? As to love and constancy, women far surpass us, and they are not the less happy for that. Adieu! my dear friend, till to-morrow.”
Clement only replied by taking the hand the marquis again extended before going out. He listened to him, pale and shuddering, but, as soon as he was alone, he exclaimed, endeavoring with an effort to suppress the sobs that stifled his breast: