Manon Lescaut | Page 4

of her misfortunes. He has followed her from Paris,

and has scarcely dried his tears for a single moment. He must be either
her brother or her lover."
I turned towards the corner of the room, where this young man was
seated. He seemed buried in a profound reverie. Never did I behold a
more affecting picture of grief. He was plainly dressed; but one may
discover at the first glance a man of birth and education. As I
approached him he rose, and there was so refined and noble an
expression in his eyes, in his whole countenance, in his every
movement, that I felt an involuntary impulse to render him any service
in my power. "I am unwilling to intrude upon your sorrows," said I,
taking a seat beside him, "but you will, perhaps, gratify the desire I feel
to learn something about that beautiful girl, who seems little formed by
nature for the miserable condition in which she is placed."
He answered me candidly, that he could not communicate her history
without making himself known, and that he had urgent reasons for
preserving his own incognito. "I may, however, tell you this much, for
it is no longer a secret to these wretches," he continued, pointing to the
guards,--"that I adore her with a passion so ardent and absorbing as to
render me the most unhappy of human beings. I tried every means at
Paris to effect her liberty. Petitions, artifice, force--all failed. Go where
she may, I have resolved to follow her--to the extremity of the world. I
shall embark with her and cross to America.
But think of the brutal inhumanity of these cowardly ruffians," he
added, speaking of the guards; "they will not allow me to approach her!
I had planned an open attack upon them some leagues from Paris;
having secured, as I thought, the aid of four men, who for a
considerable sum hired me their services. The traitors, however, left me
to execute my scheme single-handed, and decamped with my money.
The impossibility of success made me of course abandon the attempt, I
then implored of the guards permission to follow in their train,
promising them a recompense. The love of money procured their
consent; but as they required payment every time I was allowed to
speak to her, my purse was speedily emptied; and now that I am utterly
penniless, they are barbarous enough to repulse me brutally, whenever I
make the slightest attempt to approach her. It is but a moment since,
that venturing to do so, in spite of their threats, one of the fellows
raised the butt-end of his musket. I am now driven by their exactions to

dispose of the miserable horse that has brought me hither, and am
preparing to continue the journey on foot."
Although he seemed to recite this story tranquilly enough, I observed
the tears start to his eyes as he concluded. This adventure struck me as
being not less singular than it was affecting. "I do not press you," said I
to him, to make me the confidant of your secrets; but if I can be of use
to you in any way, I gladly tender you my services." "Alas!" replied he,
"I see not the slightest ray of hope. I must reconcile myself to my
destiny in all its rigour. I shall go to America: there, at least, I may be
free to live with her I love. I have written to a friend, who will send me
money to Havre-de-Grace. My only difficulty is to get so far, and to
supply that poor creature," added he, as he cast a look of sorrow at his
mistress, "with some few comforts upon the way." "Well!" said I to him,
"I shall relieve you from that difficulty. Here is some money, of which
I entreat your acceptance: I am only sorry that I can be of no greater
service to you."
I gave him four louis-d'ors without being perceived by the guards; for I
thought that if they knew he had this money, they might have raised the
price of their concessions. It occurred to me, even, to come to an
understanding with them, in order to secure for the young man the
privilege of conversing with his mistress, during the rest of the journey
to Havre, without hindrance. I beckoned the chief to approach, and
made the proposition to him. It seemed to abash the ruffian, in spite of
his habitual effrontery. "It is not, sir," said he, in an embarrassed tone,
"that we refuse to let him speak to the girl, but he wishes to be always
near her, which puts us to inconvenience; and it is just that we should
be paid for the trouble he occasions." "Let us see!"