Zibelline | Page 8

already robbed by me of
one half her rightful share? I should die of shame! Or, rather--wait a
moment! Let us reverse our situations for an instant, and if you will
swear to me that, were you in my place, you would accept--Ah, you see!
You hesitate as much now as you hesitated little a moment ago in your
simple and cordial burst of generosity: Consequently, I refuse!"
"What do you mean to do, then?"
"To sell Prerolles immediately-to-day, if possible. This determination
troubles you because of the grief it will cause Jeanne. It will grieve me,
too. And the courage to tell this to her is the only effort to which my
strength is unequal. Only you can tell it in such a way as to soften the
blow--"
"I will try to do it," said the Duke.
"I thank you! As to the personal belongings and the family portraits,
their place is at Montgeron, is it not?"
"That is understood. Now, one word more, Henri."

"Speak!"
"Have you not another embarrassment to settle?"
"I have indeed, and the sooner the better. Unhappily--"
"You have not enough money," finished the Duke. "I have received this
morning twenty-five thousand francs' rent from my farms. Will you
allow me to lend them to you?"
"To be repaid from the price of the sale? Very willingly, this time."
And he placed in an envelope the notes handed him by his
brother-in-law.
"This is the last will and testament of love," said the Marquis, as he
departed, to give the necessary instructions to his notary.
CHAPTER VI
THE FAREWELL
His debts were easily reckoned. He owed eight hundred thousand
francs to the Credit Foncier; four hundred thousand to Paul Landry;
more than one hundred thousand to various jewellers and shopkeepers;
twenty-five thousand to the Duc de Montgeron. It was necessary to sell
the chateau and the property at one million four hundred thousand
francs, and the posters advertising the sale must be displayed without
delay.
Then he must say farewell to Fanny Dorville. Nothing should disturb a
sensible mind; the man who, with so much resolution, deprives himself
of his patrimonial estates should not meet less bravely the separation
imposed by necessity.
As soon as Henri appeared in Fanny's boudoir, she divined that her
presentiments of the previous night had not deceived her.

"You have lost heavily?" she asked.
"Very heavily," he replied, kissing her brow.
"And it was my fault!" she cried. "I brought you bad luck, and that
wretch of a Landry knew well what he was about when he made me cut
the cards that brought you misfortune!"
"No, no, my dear-listen! The only one in fault was I, who allowed
myself, through false pride, to be persuaded that I should not seem to
fear him."
"Fear him--a professional gambler, who lives one knows not how!
Nonsense! It is as if one should fight a duel with a fencing-master."
"What do you wish, my dear? The evil is done--and it is so great--"
"That you have not the means to pay the sum? Oh, but wait a moment."
And taking up a casket containing a superb collar of pearls, she said:
"This is worth fourteen thousand francs. You may well take them from
me, since it was you that gave them to me."
No doubt, she had read De Musset, and this action was perhaps a
refection of that of Marion, but the movement was sincere. Something
of the stern pride of this other Rolla was stirred; a sob swelled his
bosom, and two tears--those tears that rise to a soldier's eyes in the
presence of nobility and goodness--fell from his eyes upon the hair of
the poor girl.
"I have not come to that yet," he said, after a short silence. "But we
must part--"
"You are about to marry?" she cried.
"Oh, no!"
"Ah, so much the better!"

In a few words he told her of his approaching departure, and said that
he must devote all his remaining time to the details of the mobilization
of troops.
"So--it is all over!" said Fanny, sadly. "But fear nothing! I have courage,
and even if I have the evil eye at play, I know of something that brings
success in war. Will you accept a little fetich from me?"
"Yes, but you persist in trying to give me something," he said, placing
on a table the sealed envelope he had brought.
"How good you are!" she murmured. "Now promise me one thing: let
us dine together once more. Not at the Provencaux, however. Oh,
heavens! no! At the Cafe Anglais--where we dined before the play the
first time we--"
The entrance of Heloise cut short the allusion to a memory of autumn.
"Ah, it is you," said Fanny nervously. "You come apropos."
"Is