Led Astray and The Sphinx | Page 7

my bed in a state of complete
prostration.
In the meantime, Paul, the hunting-party were crowding tumultuously
into the court-yard of the abbey; I could hear the stamping of the
horses' feet, the voices of the riders, and even the sound of their boots
on the flagging, which proved that some of them had alighted and were
threatening me with a last assault. I started up with a gesture of rage,
and I glanced at my pistols. Fortunately, after a few minutes'

conversation with the miller, the hunters withdrew, not without giving
me to understand that, if they had formed a better opinion of my
character, they went away with a most amusing idea of the eccentricity
of my disposition.
Such is, my dear friend, a faithful historical account of that unlucky day,
during which I covered myself frankly, and from head to foot, with a
species of humiliation to which any Frenchman would prefer that of
crime. I have, at this moment, the satisfaction of knowing that I am in a
neighboring chateau, in the midst of a gathering of brilliant men and
lovely young women, an inexhaustible subject for jokes. I feel,
moreover, since my flank movement (as it is customary in war to call
precipitate retreats), that I have lost something of my dignity in my
own eyes, and I cannot conceal to myself, besides, that I am far from
enjoying the same consideration on the part of my rustic hosts.
In presence of a situation so seriously compromised, it became
necessary to hold council; after a brief deliberation, I rejected far, far
from me, as puerile and pusillanimous, the project suggested to me by
my vanity at bay, that of giving up my lodgings, and even of leaving
the district entirely. I made up my mind to pursue philosophically the
course of my labors and my pleasures, to show a soul superior to
circumstances, and in short, to give to the Amazons, the centaurs, and
the millers the fine spectacle of the wise man in adversity.
[A] Charles VI., King of France, became demented in consequence of
his horse being stopped, during a hunt in the forest of Mans, by what
seemed to him a supernatural being.--(TRANS.)
CHAPTER III.
THE MARQUIS DE MALOUET.
MALOUET, 20th September.
I have just received your letter. You belong to the true breed of
Monomotapa friends, Paul. But what puerility! And such is the case of
your sudden return! A trifle, a silly nightmare which for two successive

nights caused you to hear the sound of my voice calling on you for help!
Ah! bitter fruits of the wretched German cuisine! Really, Paul, you are
foolish! And yet, you tell me things that move me to tears. I cannot
answer you as I would like to. My heart is tender, but my speech is dry.
I have never been able to tell any one, "I love you!" There is a jealous
fiend who checks on my lips every word of affection, and imparts to it
a tone of irony. But, thank God, you know me!
It seems that I make you laugh while you make me weep! Well, I am
glad of it. Yes, my noble adventure in the forest has had a sequel, and a
sequel with which I might very well have dispensed. All the
misfortunes which you felt were threatening me have actually happened
to me; rest easy, therefore.
The day following this fatal day, I began by re-conquering the esteem
of my hosts at the mill, by relating to them good-naturedly the most
piquant episodes of my famous race. I saw them beaming as they heard
the narrative; the woman in particular was writhing in atrocious
convulsions, and with formidable stretches of her jaws. I have never
seen anything so hideous, in all my life, as this coarse, cowherd's joy!
As a testimonial of the complete restoration of his sympathy, the miller
asked me if I was fond of hunting, took down from a hook over his
mantelpiece a long, rusty tube, that made me think of Leather
Stocking's rifle, and laid it into my hands, while boasting of the
murderous qualities of that instrument. I acknowledged his kindness
with an outward appearance of lively satisfaction, never having had the
heart to undeceive people who think they are doing something to please
me, and I started for the woods that cover the hill-sides, carrying like a
lance that venerable weapon, which seemed indeed to me of the most
dangerous kind. I went to take a seat on the heather, and I carefully laid
down the long gun by me; then I amused myself driving away, by
throwing stones at them, the young rabbits that ventured imprudently in
the vicinity of an engine of war for the effects of which