Naiad — CHAPTER IV. The Naiad-Part Two

This farewell caused me the most acute pain I had ever experienced and I came near rushing forward once more to seize this shadowy enchantress, for by degrees I had approached near enough to be within reach of the hem of her garment, had I dared to touch it, but I had not the courage.

It is true, I had forgotten the threats of the legend against those who attempted this profanation.

I was only held back, powerless, by a superstitious respect, but a cry of despair broke from my heart and vibrated even amid the marine shells, held by the tritons of the fountain.

The shadow paused as if withheld by pity.

“What more dost thou desire?

” said she.

“Day approaches and I cannot remain.

” “Why not, if such is thy will?

” “I am forbidden to again behold the sun of this earth.

I dwell in the eternal light of a more beautiful world.

” “Take me with thee to that world.

I no longer wish to live in this.

I

will not remain here I swear, if I must never see thee more.

” “Thou shalt see me again, have no fear,” said she.

“Await till thou art worthy and until then, summon me not.

I forbid thee.

I will watch over thee like an invisible providence, and when thy soul is as pure as a ray of morning, I will then appear to thee, simply on the appeal of thy pious desire.

Submit!

” “Submit!

” repeated a solemn voice that resounded at my right.

I turned and beheld one of the phantoms I had already seen in my room, at the time of the first apparition.

“Submit!

” repeated a voice exactly similar, like an echo, at my left, and I beheld the second ghost.

I was not at all affected by this, although there was something terrifying in the height of these two spectres and in the deep tones of their voices.

But what cared I for the terrible things I might see or hear?

Nothing could snatch me from the ecstasy in which I was plunged.

I

did not even stop to look at these accessory shadows; my eyes sought my celestial beauty.

Alas!

she had disappeared, and I no longer beheld aught save the motionless naiad of the fountain, with its passionless pose and its cold tones of marble rendered blue by the first rays of morning.

I know not what became of the sisters; I did not see them disappear.

I

went around and around the fountain like a madman.

I thought I was sleeping and I grew bewildered in the confusion of my ideas, hoping that I would not awake.

But I remembered the promised ring, and went up to my room, where I found Baptiste, who spoke to me without my being able to gather the meaning of his words.

He appeared worried, perhaps on account of my expression, but I never thought of questioning him.

I looked at the hearth and soon observed two disconnected stones, which I endeavored to raise, but it was too difficult an undertaking without the necessary tools.

Baptiste probably thought me mad, and mechanically endeavoring to aid me— “Has monsieur lost anything?

” said he.

“Yes, I let one of my rings fall here yesterday.

” “A ring!

Monsieur has no rings, I have never seen him wear one.

” “No matter.

Let us try to find it.

” He took a knife and scraped the soft stone, to enlarge the crack, removed the ashes and powdered cement which filled it up, and while working thus to please me, he asked me what kind of a ring it was in the same tone he would have asked me what I had been dreaming about.

“It is a gold ring with a star formed of a large emerald,” I replied, with the coolness of certainty.

He no longer doubted, and detaching a rod from the window curtains, he bent it in the form of a hook and reached the ring, which he smilingly presented me.

He thought without daring to say so, that it was a gift from Madame d’Ionis.

As for myself, I scarcely looked at it, so sure was I that it was the same that I had seen on the finger of the ghost; it was, in fact, exactly like it.

I put it on my little finger, never doubting that it belonged to the defunct demoiselle d’Ionis, or that I had seen the ghost of that marvelous beauty.

Baptiste showed a great deal of discretion in his behavior, and when he left me, made me promise to go to bed.

You can readily imagine such was far from my thoughts.

I seated myself before the table, from which Baptiste had removed the famous supper of three loaves, and compelling myself to recall the details of my transporting vision, some parts of which I feared I might forget, I began to write a full account thereof, just as you have read it.

I remained in this state of agitation mingled with ecstasy, till the rising of the sun.

At times I dozed a little, my elbows on the table, and thought I was again going through my dream; but it ever eluded me, and Baptiste came and dragged me from the solitude in which I would have gladly thenceforth have passed my life.

I arranged it so as to go down stairs, just as they were about to take their places at the table.

I had not yet asked myself how I was to give an account of the vision; I thought of it while making believe breakfast, for I ate nothing and without feeling wearied or ill, I experienced an unconquerable disgust for the functions of animal life.

The dowager who did not see very well, was not aware of my trouble.

I

answered her usual questions with the vagueness of the preceding days, but this time without acting any comedy, and with the preoccupation of a poet when questioned stupidly on the subject of his poem, and who gives evasive and ironical replies to get rid of stultifying investigations.

I

do not know if Madame d’Ionis was anxious or surprised to see me thus.

I

did not look at her, I did not even see her.

I hardly understood what she was saying to me, during the mortal constraint of this breakfast.

At last I found myself alone in the library, awaiting her as on previous days, but without any impatience whatever.

Far from it, I felt a lively satisfaction in sinking into a revery.

The weather was admirable; the sun kissed the trees and the blooming grounds beyond the large masses of transparent shadows that were projected by the architecture of the chateau on the nearest flowerbeds.

I walked from one end of this vast hall to the other, stopping each time that I found myself before the fountain.

The windows were closed and the curtains drawn on account of the heat.

These curtains were of a soft shade of blue that I tried to imagine green, and in this artificial twilight which somewhat recalled that of my vision, I experienced an incredible sensation of happiness, and a species of delirious gayety.

I was talking aloud, and laughing without being aware of any cause, when I felt some one seize me rather roughly by the arm.

I turned around and saw Madame d’Ionis, who had come in without my observing her.

“Come, answer me, look at me at least,” said she with some impatience.

“Are you aware that you frighten me, and that I no longer know what to think of you?

” “You have your wish,” I answered, “I have tampered with my reason, I have become insane.

But do not reproach yourself on that account; I am much happier thus, and do not wish to be cured.

” “So,” said she, scrutinizing me anxiously, “this apparition is not then an absurd story?

At least, you think—you have seen it produced?

” “Better than I see you at this moment.

” “Don’t affect such an air of stupid pride—I do not doubt your words.

Tell me all about it quietly.

” “No, never!

I implore you do not question me.

I cannot, I do not wish to answer.

” “Really the society of ghosts does not seem to agree with you, my dear sir, and you will make me think that you have heard some singularly flattering things, for you are as proud and discreet as a fortunate lover.

” “Ah!

what do you say, madame?

” I cried, “No love is possible between two beings separated by the abyss of a tomb.

But you know not of what you speak, you believe in nothing, you ridicule everything.

” I was so rude in my enthusiasm, that Madame d’Ionis was rather vexed.

“There is one thing which I do not ridicule,” said she quickly; “and that is my law suit, and since you have promised on your honor, to consult a mysterious oracle and to obey its orders—” “Yes,” I replied, taking her hand with a familiarity that was quite out of place, but so quietly that she was not offended, so well did she understand the condition of my mind; “yes, madame, you must pardon my preoccupation and my forgetfulness.

It was through devotion to you that I have played a very dangerous game, and I owe you at least an account of the result.

I have been ordered to carry out my father’s intentions and make you win your suit.

” Whether she expected this answer, or whether she doubted my sanity, Madame d’Ionis showed neither surprise or disappointment.

She contented herself with shrugging her shoulders, and shaking my arm as if to awake me.

“My poor child,” said she, “you have been dreaming, that is all.

For a moment I shared your exaltation, I hoped at least that it would bring you back to the ideas of delicacy and justice that at heart you cherish.

But I know not what exaggerated scruples or what habits of passive obedience to your father, have caused you to hear such chimerical words.

Shake off these illusions, there have been no ghosts, nor has there been any mysterious voice, your head was affected by the indigestible perusal of that old manuscript, and by the abbé Lamyre’s doleful stories.

I am going to explain how it all happened.

” She talked with me for some time; but my efforts to listen and understand were in vain.

At times it seemed as if she were speaking an unknown language.

When she saw that the words that fell upon my ear were not communicated to my brain, she grew seriously alarmed about me, felt my pulse to see if I had any fever, asked me if my head ached, and begged me to go and lie down.

I understood that she gave me permission to be alone and I gladly ran and threw myself upon my bed, not that I felt the least fatigue, but because I kept thinking all the time that could I but sleep, I might again behold the celestial beauty of my immortal nymph.

I do not know how the rest of the day passed.

I had no knowledge of it.

The next morning I saw Baptiste walking through the room on tip-toe.

“What are you doing, _mon ami_?

” I asked.

“I am sitting up with you, my dear master,” he replied.

“Thank God you have slept two good hours.

You feel better, don’t you?

” “I feel very well, have I then been ill?

” “You had a severe attack of fever last evening, and it lasted part of the night.

It was the effect of the great heat.

You never think of putting on your hat when you go in the garden.

Yet _madame votre mère_ gave you so many cautions about it.

” Zéphyrine entered, asked about me with much interest and made me promise to take _another_ spoonful of _my_ soothing potion.

“Very well,” said I, although I had no recollection of this potion, “a sick guest is an inconvenience and all I ask is to get well quickly.

” The potion really did me a great deal of good, for I again fell asleep and dreamed of my immortal nymph.

When I opened my eyes, I saw an apparition at the foot of my bed, which would have charmed me two nights ago, but which now vexed me like an importunate reproach.

It was Madame d’Ionis, who came herself to see how I was, and to give her personal supervision to the efforts made in my behalf.

She was very friendly, and showed real interest in me.

I thanked her to the best of my ability and assured her that I was very well.

Upon this, appeared the solemn head of a physician, who examined my pulse and my tongue, prescribed rest, and said to Madame d’Ionis: “It is nothing.

Keep him from reading, writing and talking until to-morrow and he will then be able to return to his family.

” Left alone with Baptiste, I questioned him.

“_Mon Dieu_, Monsieur,” said he, “I don’t exactly know what to say.

It seems that the room where you were is considered haunted.

” “The room where I was?

Where then am I now?

” I looked around me and recovering from my stupor I at last recognized that I was not in “_la chambre aux dames_,” but in another apartment of the chateau.

“As for me,” continued Baptiste, who was of a very positive temperament.

“I slept in the room and saw nothing.

I don’t believe any of these stories.

But, when I heard you tormenting yourself during your fever, always talking about a beautiful lady who exists and who does not exist, who is dead and who lives—who knows what you haven’t said about it.

It was all so pretty sometimes that I wished to remember it, or that I knew how to write it down, in order to preserve it, but it did you harm, and I decided upon bringing you here, where you are better off.

Don’t you see, Monsieur, that this all comes from writing too many verses?

Your father said rightly that it would turn your brain!

You would do better to think only of your law papers.

” “Thou art certainly right, my dear Baptiste,” I answered “and I will try and take thine advice.

In fact it does seem as if I had had an attack of madness.

” “Of madness?

Oh!

no indeed, Monsieur.

_Dieu merci_.

You have wandered a little in your fever just as it might happen to anyone; but now that it is all over, if you will take a little chicken broth, your brain will be as clear as ever.

” I resigned myself to the chicken broth, although I would have preferred something more nourishing so as to get well quickly.

I was very weak, but little by little my strength came back during the day, and I was allowed a light supper.

The following day, Madame d’Ionis came again to see me.

I had risen and was feeling quite well.

I talked very sensibly with her about what had happened, without however giving her any details upon the subject.

I had been light-headed, I was much ashamed of it, and begged her to keep my secret; my position as a lawyer would be lost if I acquired the reputation of a ghost seer; and it would affect my father seriously.

“Fear nothing,” said she; “I will answer for the discretion of my people; make sure of your valet’s silence, and the story of this adventure will never leave the place.

Besides, even should something of the kind be told, we would all be perfectly justified in saying that you had had an attack of fever, and that it pleased these superstitious souls to interpret it to suit their credulity.

And really, this would only be the truth.

You had a sun stroke coming here on horseback on a scorching day.

You were ill during the night.

On the following days I tormented you with this unfortunate law suit, and I stopped at nothing to bring you over to my way of thinking.

” She paused, and, in a different tone said: “Do you remember what I said to you the day before yesterday in the library?

” “I confess that I did not understand, I was under the influence.

”—— “Of the fever?

I saw that very plainly.

” “Will it please you to repeat to me, now that my head is no longer affected, what you were saying about apparitions?

” Madame d’Ionis hesitated.

“Has your memory preserved the idea of this apparition?

” said she carelessly, but examining me rather anxiously.

“No,” I replied, “it is very confused now, confused as a dream of which one is still conscious, but no longer cares to remember.

” I lied boldly, Madame d’Ionis was deceived, and I saw that she also was lying, when she pretended having spoken to me in the library only about the effect of the manuscript, in order to blame herself for having lent it to me at a time when I was already greatly agitated.

It was evident that through fear caused by my mental condition, she had on that evening said certain things, that she was very glad now I had not understood, but I could not imagine what they might be.

She saw I was quite confused, so she believed me cured.

I talked very decidedly about my vision as though it were the effect of a high fever.

She made me promise to think no more of it, and never to torment myself about it.

“Don’t go and think yourself more weak-minded than other people; there is no one in the world who has not had their hours of delirium.

Remain with us two or three days longer, no matter what the doctor says.

I do not like to send you back to your parents, so weak and pale.

We will say nothing more about the suit, it is useless; I will go and see your father and talk it over with him; without worrying you any more about it.

” By evening I was already cured, and I tried to get into my old room, it was shut up.

I risked asking Zéphyrine for the key, who replied that it had been given to Madame d’Ionis.

They did not wish to put anyone there, until the recently unearthed legend had again been buried in oblivion.

I pretended that I had forgotten something in the room.

They had to yield.

Zéphyrine went after the key and entered the room with me.

I

searched everywhere without saying what I was looking for.

I examined the hearth and saw the fresh scratches on the disjointed stones, that Baptiste had left there with his knife.

But what did this prove, save that in my madness I had caused a search for an object that existed only in the memory of a dream?

I had thought that I had found a ring and had put it on my finger.

It was there no longer, without doubt it had never been there!

I did not even dare to question Baptiste on this subject.

They did not leave me one moment alone in the ladies’ room, and they shut it up again, as soon as I went out.

I felt that there was nothing to keep me at the chateau d’Ionis, and I left by stealth the next morning so as to avoid the drive in a carriage with which they had threatened me.

The horse and the fresh air quite set me up again.

I galloped rapidly through the woods that surrounded the chateau, fearing that I might be pursued by the solicitude of my beautiful hostess.

I slackened my pace when two leagues distant, and arrived quietly at Angers during the afternoon.

My face was a little changed; my father did not notice it much, but nothing escapes a mother’s eye, and it worried mine.

I succeeded in quieting her by eating with an appetite; I had compelled Baptiste to give me his word that he would not say anything; he had made it a condition however that he would not feel bound, should I chance to fall ill again.

But I took good care not to do so; I watched over my physical and moral welfare like a youth bent upon the preservation of his existence.

I

worked, but not too much; I took walks regularly, I dwelt upon no mournful ideas, I abstained from all reading of an exciting nature.

The reason for all this had its source in an obstinate but tranquil mania and, so to speak, ’twas mistress of itself.

I wanted to prove to my own judgment that I neither had been nor now was out of my mind, and that there was nothing more certain, in my opinion, than the existence of the green ladies.

I also wished to restore my mind to that state of clearness necessary to conceal my secret and to nourish it internally as the source of my intellectual life and the criterion of my moral existence.

Every trace of the crisis then rapidly disappeared, and seeing me studious, reasonable and moderate in all things, it would have been impossible to guess that I was under the dominion of a fixed idea, of a well regulated monomania.

Three days after my return to Angers, my father sent me to Tours on some other business.

I spent twenty-four hours there, and when I returned home, I learned that Madame d’Ionis had been there to have an understanding with my father about the consequences of her law suit.

She had appeared to yield to positive reason; she had consented to gain it.

I was glad that I had not met her.

It would be impossible to say that so charming a woman had become repugnant to me, but it is certain that I feared more than I desired her presence.

Her scepticism, which she appeared to have renounced one day only to overwhelm me with it on the next, had produced an injurious effect upon me, and had caused me inexpressible suffering.

At the end of two months, notwithstanding all the efforts I made to appear happy, my mother discovered the terrible sadness that permeated my mind.

Everyone observed a great change for the better in me, and at first she was pleased with it.

My manner of life was altogether austere, and my language as grave and sensible as that of an old magistrate.

Without being devout, I professed to be religious.

I no longer scandalized simple people by my voltairianism.

I judged everything impartially and criticised without bitterness those of whom I did not approve.

All this was edifying, excellent; but I had no taste for anything, and I bore my life as if it were a burden.

I was no longer young, I experienced no more the ecstasy of enthusiasm or the allurements of gayety.

I had time then, notwithstanding my important occupations to write verses, and I would have made time in any case, even had none been allowed me, for I hardly slept any more and I sought none of those amusements that absorb three quarters of a young man’s life.

I no longer thought of love, I fled from the world, I ceased to parade myself with men of my age before the eyes of the beautiful ladies of the land.

I was retiring, meditative, austere, very gentle with my own people, very modest with everybody, very ardent in legal discussions.

Thus I was esteemed an accomplished young man, but I was thoroughly unhappy.

And it was because I nourished with a strange stoicism, an insane passion without its parallel.

I was in love with a ghost, I could not even say with a dead woman.

All my historical researches resolved themselves into this.

The three demoiselles d’Ionis had possibly never existed save in legend.

Their history, fixed by the latest chroniclers at the period of Henri II, was already old and uncertain, even at that date.

No evidence of them remained: no title, name or crest among the d’Ionis family papers that my father happened to have in his possession on account of the suit, not even a tombstone in any part of the country.

I was thus worshipping a pure fiction, engendered, to all appearance in the vapors of my brain.

But this was precisely what I failed to be convinced of.

I had seen and heard this marvel of beauty; she existed in a region that it was impossible for me to attain, but from which it was possible for her to descend to me.

To solve the problem of this indefinable existence, and the mystery of the tie that bound us would have rendered me insane.

I was conscious of the fact, I wished to explain nothing, to fathom nothing; I lived upon faith, which is “the evidence of things not seen,” a sublime madness, if reason is only to be proved by the evidence of the senses.

My madness was not so puerile as might have been feared.

I nursed it as a superior faculty and did not allow it to descend from the heights upon which I had enthroned it.

Thus I abstained from another evocation, lest I should lose myself in the cabalistic pursuit of some chimera unworthy of me.

The immortal maiden had said that “I must become worthy, if she were to live in my thoughts.

” She had not promised to reappear in the same form as I had seen her.

She had said that this form did not exist and was but the product of my imagination caused by the elevation of my feelings towards her.

I ought not then to torment my brain to reproduce her, for it might misrepresent her and cause some other image to obliterate her own.

I wished to purify my life and cultivate the treasure of conscience, in the hope, that at some given time, this celestial figure would come to me of her own accord and talk to me in those cherished tones that through my unworthiness had been vouchsafed me for so short a time.

Under the influence of this mania, I was in the way of becoming a good man, and it was rather odd that I should be led to wisdom through madness.

But all this was too subtle and too tense for human nature.

This rupture of my soul with the rest of my being, and of my life with the temptations of youth, was gradually leading me on to despair, perhaps even to insanity.

So far I was only melancholy, and although very pale and very thin, I did not appear to be ill either physically or mentally when the turn came for the hearing of the case of d’Ionis versus d’Aillane.

My father instructed me to prepare my speech for the following week.

It was now about three months since I had left, on a morning in June for the fatal chateau d’Ionis.