but they are so near each other!”
“Granted, yet I must tell you that, as far as I am concerned, I should have much pleasure in waiting upon his excellency if he should ever wish to communicate with me, and you will oblige me by letting him know it. As for madam, she is here, speak to her, my dear M. Dubois, for I am only her very humble servant.”
Henriette assumed an air of cheerful politeness, and said to him,
“Sir, I beg you will offer my thanks to M. Dutillot, and enquire from him whether he knows me.”
“I am certain, madam,” said the hunchback, “that he does not.”
“You see he does not know me, and yet he wishes to call on me. You must agree with me that if I accepted his visits I should give him a singular opinion of my character. Be good enough to tell him that, although known to no one and knowing no one, I am not an adventuress, and therefore I must decline the honour of his visits.”
Dubois felt that he had taken a false step, and remained silent. We never asked him how the ambassador had received our refusal.
Three weeks after the last occurrence, the ducal court residing then at Colorno, a great entertainment was given in the gardens which were to be illuminated all night. Everybody had permission to walk about the gardens. Dubois, the fatal hunchback appointed by destiny, spoke so much of that festival, that we took a fancy to see it. Always the same story of Adam’s apple. Dubois accompanied us. We went to Colorno the day before the entertainment, and put up at an inn.
In the evening we walked through the gardens, in which we happened to meet the ducal family and suite. According to the etiquette of the French court, Madame de France was the first to curtsy to Henriette, without stopping. My eyes fell upon a gentleman walking by the side of Don Louis, who was looking at my friend very attentively. A few minutes after, as we were retracing our steps, we came across the same gentleman who, after bowing respectfully to us, took Dubois aside. They conversed together for a quarter of an hour, following us all the time, and we were passing out of the gardens, when the gentleman, coming forward, and politely apologizing to me, asked Henriette whether he had the honour to be known to her.
“I do not recollect having ever had the honour of seeing you before.”
“That is enough, madam, and I entreat you to forgive me.”
Dubois informed us that the gentleman was the intimate friend of the Infante Don Louis, and that, believing he knew madam, he had begged to be introduced. Dubois had answered that her name was D’Arci, and that, if he was known to the lady, he required no introduction. M. d’Antoine said that the name of D’Arci was unknown to him, and that he was afraid of making a mistake. “In that state of doubt,” added Dubois, “and wishing to clear it, he introduced himself, but now he must see that he was mistaken.”
After supper, Henriette appeared anxious. I asked her whether she had only pretended not to know M. d’Antoine.
“No, dearest, I can assure you. I know his name which belongs to an illustrious family of Provence, but I have never seen him before.”
“Perhaps he may know you?”
“He might have seen me, but I am certain that he never spoke to me, or I would have recollected him.”
“That meeting causes me great anxiety, and it seems to have troubled you.”
“I confess it has disturbed my mind.”
“Let us leave Parma at once and proceed to Genoa. We will go to Venice as soon as my affairs there are settled.”
“Yes, my dear friend, we shall then feel more comfortable. But I do not think we need be in any hurry.”
We returned to Parma, and two days afterwards my servant handed me a letter, saying that the footman who had brought it was waiting in the ante-room.
“This letter,” I said to Henriette, “troubles me.”
She took it, and after she had read it—she gave it back to me, saying,
“I think M. d’Antoine is a man of honour, and I hope that we may have nothing to fear.”
The letter ran as, follows:
“Either at your hotel or at my residence, or at any other place you may wish to appoint, I entreat you, sir, to give me an opportunity of conversing with you on a subject which must be of the greatest importance to you.
“I have the honour to be, etc.
It was addressed M. Farusi.
“I think I must see him,” I said, “but where?”
“Neither here nor at his residence, but in the ducal gardens. Your answer must name only the place and the hour of the meeting.”
I wrote to M. d’Antoine that I would see him at half-past eleven in the ducal gardens, only requesting him to appoint another hour in case mine was not convenient to him.
I dressed myself at once in order to be in good time, and meanwhile we both endeavoured, Henriette and I, to keep a cheerful countenance, but we could not silence our sad forebodings. I was exact to my appointment and found M. d’Antoine waiting for me. As soon as we were together, he said to me,
“I have been compelled, sir, to beg from you the favour of an interview, because I could not imagine any surer way to get this letter to Madame d’Arci’s hands. I entreat you to deliver it to her, and to excuse me if I give it you sealed. Should I be mistaken, my letter will not even require an answer, but should I be right, Madame d’Arci alone can judge whether she ought to communicate it to you. That is my reason for giving it to you sealed. If you are truly her friend, the contents of that letter must be as interesting to you as to her. May I hope, sir, that you will be good enough to deliver it to her?”
“Sir, on my honour I will do it.”
We bowed respectfully to each other, and parted company. I hurried back to the hotel.
CHAPTER III
Henriette Receives the Visit of M. d’Antoine—I Accompany Her as Far as Geneva and Then I Lose Her—I Cross the St. Bernard, and Return to Parma—A Letter from Henriette—
My Despair—De La Haye Becomes Attached to Me—Unpleasant Adventure with an Actress and Its Consequences—I Turn a Thorough Bigot—Bavois—I Mystify a Bragging Officer.
As soon as I had reached our apartment, my heart bursting with anxiety, I repeated to Henriette every word spoken by M. d’Antoine, and delivered his letter which contained four pages of writing. She read it attentively with visible emotion, and then she said,
“Dearest friend, do not be offended, but the honour of two families does not allow of my imparting to you the contents of this letter. I am compelled to receive M. d’Antoine, who represents himself as being one of my relatives.”
“Ah!” I exclaimed, “this is the beginning of the end! What a dreadful thought! I am near the end of a felicity which was too great to last! Wretch that I have been! Why did I tarry so long in Parma? What fatal blindness! Of all the cities in the whole world, except France, Parma was the only one I had to fear, and it is here that I have
