No More Learning

All the passengers had perished except one woman, who was
still struggling. She held a little daughter in her arms whom
she tried to save.
"Protecting angels," she cried, "save her! watch over her! "
When her strength deserted her she disappeared, just as Mer-
lin descended from the clouds and touched the surface of the


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water. He heard the poor mother's last words, caught up her
child, and bore it back to the skies.
He warmed the little creature's chilled limbs in his hands.
Was she still breathing? In doubt, he recalled her to life or gave
her a new one by means of his magic power, with a ray of dawn'
and a drop of dew. Then Merlin gazed at the poor child with
delighted eyes.
"You shall be a fairy," he said to her. "You shall be my
pet fairy. The misfortune and death which presided over your
birth can never thenceforth touch you. "
The baby opened her eyes and smiled at him, and Merlin
carried his treasure to his crystal and flowery palace in the
clouds.
The young fairy was charming, and Merlin wished to endow
her with all gifts, all talents, all virtues. He gave her the heart
which loves and is loved; the mind which pleases and amuses
others, and the grace which always charms.
He gave her his own power (without making her his equal,
however), with only one condition: that she should love him,
and prefer him to all the sylphs and heavenly spirits, however
beautiful, who shone in Ginnistan. Mighty Alaciel, the supreme
genie presiding over this empire, loved the enchanter Merlin, and
consented to all his desires. All that he asked for the young
fairy was granted and immutably ratified by destiny.
Never had Merlin been more happy than while pretty Vivian
was growing up under his eyes. That was the name he had
given her, the name which was to make her immortal; for never
has love been more celebrated than that of the enchanter Mer-
lin for the fairy Vivian. All legends tell of it, all chronicles
attest it, and traces of it are still preserved on the walls of old
monuments.
Merlin had no other delight than in Vivian; and she knew no
joy apart from her benefactor. Although still very young, the
wit and intelligence with which she was endowed soon taught
her to appreciate his worth and all that she owed to him. Full
of gratitude for his goodness and admiration for his talents, she
listened to his lessons with an avidity and pleasure which flat-
tered the scholar's self-love; while, gracious and attentive, her
cares for. him delighted the old man's heart.
So she could not be separated from him, but accompanied
him in all his journeys and investigations, and shared all his


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labors, which were pleasures for her. She loved to soar through
space with him, admiring far off the stars, whose revolutions and
movements in heaven he explained to her; then redescending
toward earth, both invisible, they would hover over castles and
cottages, inspiring noble lords with kind thoughts for their vas-
sals, and bearing hope and consolation to the vassals. In sleep
they showed the poor mother her absent son; to the young girl
her lover; to all they sent golden dreams which later were real-
ized. Do you see that pilgrim worn out with heat and fatigue
sleeping under an elm on the wayside? He wakes consumed with
hunger and burning thirst, and sees over his head a bough loaded
with superb pears. O surprise! Where did this tree which he
had not noticed before, come from? Or rather, what changed
the sterile young elm into a fruit-tree during his sleep?
It was
Vivian!
And that young girl, how unhappy she is! Sitting on the
bank of a stream, she weeps and mourns! She had a gold cross,
her only ornament, her riches! Taking it off to clean it or look
at it, she has let it fall to the bottom of the deep water. Lost!
lost forever! And just then she feels around her neck a wet
ribbon, which an invisible hand has replaced; and at the end of
the ribbon shines the gold cross, which she thought never to see
again. The little fairy has plunged under the waves and brought
it back.
Another time a poor tenant, torn from his family, is being
dragged to prison because he owes a pitiless master ten crowns
rent, which he has not been able to pay! And suddenly his
sobbing wife, who accompanies him, finds in her apron pocket
twenty bright gold crowns which she does not remember ever
putting there! Who slipped them there? Vivian's little hand!
Oh, kind pleasant fairy, delighting in the good she does-and
Merlin still happier at seeing her do it!
Months and years succeeded each other. Fairies grow quickly.
Their beauty need not fear to ripen, as it is to endure always!
Nothing more charming than Vivian ever shone in Ginnistan.
Her pretty blonde hair, her blue eyes reflecting the sky, her
dainty figure, light and airy, her quick smile, set her above other
fairies.
As to character, hers was charming and impossible to define.
She was both reasonable and frivolous, equally serious over feasts
and toilets, good works and pretty dresses; knowing a great


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deal, and as amusing as if she knew nothing. Coquettish in
mind but not in heart, gracious and good, laughing and mis-
chievous, above all kind and beloved by every one,-such was
Vivian. With a word or a smile she triumphed over all resist-
ance, overturned all obstacles; and when her pretty little hand
caressed Merlin's white beard, the great enchanter could refuse
her nothing. Far more, he exercised all his art to discover her
tastes and anticipate her wishes! To him science had no longer
any end but that of creating pleasures for Vivian.
Thus, anticipating by magic the genius of future ages, he
devised wonders for her which we think we have discovered since
then, but which we have only refound. Our new inventions are
only copies, more or less able, of all Merlin's secrets. Among
them were prodigies compared with which those of steam are
only child's play,- the art of traversing air and directing one's
course at will on a cloud or winged dragon, and a thousand
other sorceries which we do not know yet.
Not content with creating palaces and aerial gardens for Viv-
ian, to please her he descended to the least details. Our pret-
tiest-I mean oddest - fashions, our most coquettish jewels, our
most precious fabrics, were then invented for her. Her crystal
palace was lighted by a thousand magical fires, which since we
have learned to call gas or electric light.
Within this palace he had raised a fairy temple, which many
centuries later we thought to invent under the name of Opera!
In rooms enriched with gold and velvet, Vivian and the court of
Ginnistan gave themselves to noble pleasures. Dancing and
music exerted all their allurements. There were delicious songs
still unknown to earth, which later Merlin revealed to Gluck, Mo-
zart, Rossini, Auber, Meyerbeer, unless indeed these stole them.
for themselves from heaven.
Thus Merlin watched over the amusements of his young fairy,
and still more over the happiness of her every minute; for he
had taught her never to be idle. Under her skillful fingers the
brush or the needle created little masterpieces, so perfect and
elegant that they gave rise to the expression "to work like the
fairies"!
And note that before Vivian, fairies did nothing. Their only
diversion was to busy themselves with love affairs or intrigues
on earth. Their home was most monotonous, and they did not
know what to do with themselves in heaven. There, as in all


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courts of any rank, the receptions and companies almost killed
one with their dullness. Drawn up in a circle on feast days,
the fairies gazed upon each other in fixed beauty, which they
did not have even the fear of losing or seeing change.
As to the sylphs and genii who stood behind them, they too
yawned in their immortality. Judge then how they appreciated
the presentation to court of a witty, amiable, vivacious fairy.
She turned all heads, and drew all attention. They knew the
distractions of love; and the genii thought it would be delightful
to rob the old enchanter of the charming young girl he was
guarding.
One morning in Merlin's absence, Vivian found a satiny little
note on her dressing-table, containing a declaration of love,
signed Zelindor. Zelindor was the handsomest and most foppish
of all the genii. In manner and bearing, in his least actions,
he concerned himself with only one thing,- to know if he was
admired; and his eyes, which were superb, seemed to have been
given him only to see whether or not he was being noticed.
That evening Vivian found in her work-basket a dozen other
little satiny papers.
As soon as Merlin returned, she carried him the whole col-
lection. The indignant enchanter wanted to rage.
"Read them first," she said.
He read, and then tremblingly asked what she thought of all
these demonstrations of affection.
"I think," she answered, "that they are very badly written. "
«< They say nothing to your heart? "
"Nothing. "
Merlin wore two rings on his left hand. One was an emer-
ald: when he took it off his finger and held it to his mouth, he
ceased to be invisible, and appeared under his true form to mor-
tal eyes. The other, more useful and more to be feared, was of
a single ruby. With this ring he could read hearts, and see
what every one was thinking.
He seized this ring, regarded it attentively, and was soon
convinced that Vivian had spoken the truth.
"Yes! yes! " he cried. "You are indifferent to Zelindor and
all the other sylphs, and prefer me. "
"Ah! that's unkind! " cried Vivian interrupting him, "very
unkind! "
"To convince myself of your friendship? "


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"No! But to surprise the secrets that I want to have the
pleasure of telling you. "
"Ah! you are charming! " cried Merlin, transported with joy.
"So you love me, then? "
"Aren't you my friend, my benefactor, my father, to whom I
owe everything? "
"Yes,—it is true," said the enchanter, only half satisfied: "and
I love you too, Vivian, ardently, passionately; and that is the
way I want you to love me. ”
"I don't understand," said Vivian. "I prefer you to all
whom I see or hear,-to all who are about us. "
"Yes," said Merlin to himself, "that is just what I once
asked from Alaciel, and which he has granted. But," he said,
speaking out loud without meaning to do so, "I made a great
mistake in not asking more. "
"And what more do you want? " she asked with an affection-
ate smile.
"When you are with me, does your heart beat more quickly? »
་
"No," answered Vivian in a pure, candid voice.
"And yet you love me a little ? "
"Better than all the world. "
"And you consent, dear child, to be mine? »
"Yes. "
Merlin kissed the fresh rosy cheek of the young fairy, and
trembling with emotion, let himself fall into a chair, gazing after
Vivian as she bounded away and disappeared behind the clumps
of lilacs.
THE PRICE OF LIFE
J
OSEPH, opening the parlor door, came to tell us the post-chaise
was ready. My mother and sister threw themselves in my
arms.
"It is not too late," they said. "Give up this journey. Stay
with us. "
«<< Mother, I am a gentleman; I am twenty years old; I must
have a name in the country. I must make my way, either in
the army or at court. "
"And when you are gone, what will become of me, Bernard ? »
"You will be happy and proud to hear of your son's success. "
XXII-819


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"And if you are killed in some battle? "
"What matters it? What is life? Does a man think of
that? When a man is twenty and a gentleman, he thinks only
of glory. In a few years, mother, I'll come back a colonel, or
marshal, or else with a fine office at Versailles. "
"Ah well! what will come of it if you do? "
"I shall be respected and thought much of. ”
"What then? "
"Then every one will salute me. "
"And then? ”
"Then I will wed my cousin Henrietta, and settle my young
sisters in marriage, and we will all live with you, tranquil and
happy in my Bretagne domain. "
"And why can't you begin to-day? Didn't your father leave
us the finest fortune in the country? Is there a richer domain
for ten leagues around, or a finer castle than Roche-Bernard?
Do not your vassals respect you? As you go through the village,
does any one fail to take off his hat? Don't leave us, my son!
Stay with your friends, your sisters, and your old mother who
may not be here when you come back. Don't squander in vain-
glory, or shorten by all kinds of cares and torments, the days that
roll so fast anyway. Life is so sweet, my boy, and the sun of
Bretagne so glorious! "
While speaking, she pointed through the windows at the
pretty paths of my park, the old chestnut-trees in blossom, the
lilacs and honeysuckles which perfumed the air. In the ante-
chamber the gardener and all his family had gathered sad and
silent, seeming to express-"Don't go, young master, don't go. "
Hortense, my elder sister, pressed me in her arms; and Amélie,
my little sister, who was looking at the pictures in a volume of
La Fontaine, offered me the book.
"Read, read, brother," she said weeping.
It was the fable of the two pigeons! I rose brusquely; I
pushed them all away.
"I am twenty, and a gentleman: I must have honor and
fame. Let me go. "
And I hurried into the court. I was stepping into the post-
chaise when a woman appeared on the steps. It was Henrietta.
She did not weep, she did not utter a word; but, pale and
trembling, she could scarcely support herself. With the white


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handkerchief in her hand she waved me a last good-by, then
fell unconscious. I rushed to her, lifted her, pressed her in my
arms, swore to love her always; and as she came to herself, leav-
ing her to the care of my mother and sisters, I ran to my car-
riage without stopping or turning my head. If I had looked at
Henrietta I could not have gone.
A few minutes later the post-chaise was rolling along the thor-
oughfare. For a long time I thought of nothing but my sisters,
my mother, and Henrietta, and all the happiness I was leaving
behind me. But as the towers of Roche-Bernard gradually van-
ished, these ideas faded; and soon dreams of glory and ambition
took possession of my mind. What projects, what castles in
Spain, what fine actions, I created for myself in my post-chaise!
Riches, honors, dignities, all kinds of success, I denied myself
nothing; I merited and received everything; finally, rising in
rank as I proceeded, I became duke, peer, provincial governor,
and marshal of France, before reaching my inn in the evening!
My servant's voice, modestly calling me "Monsieur," forced me
to return to myself and abdicate.
The following days the same dreams, the same intoxication,
for my journey was a long one. I was going to the neigh-
borhood of Sedan, to the Duke of C; an old friend of my
father, and patron of my family. He was to take me to Paris,
where he was expected at the end of the month; present me at
Versailles, and obtain for me through his influence a company
of dragoons.
――――
I reached Sedan in the evening, and as it was late I post-
poned calling upon my patron until the morrow; and went to
lodge at the Arms of France, the finest hotel in the city, and
the usual rendezvous for officers. For Sedan is a garrisoned
town. The streets have a warlike aspect, and the citizens them-
selves a martial bearing, which seems to tell strangers, "We are
compatriots of the great Turenne. "
While chatting at the supper table I inquired the way to the
Duke of C's castle, which was about three leagues from the
town.
"Any one will tell you," they said. "It is well known about
here. It is there that a great warrior, a celebrated man,- Mar-
shal Fabert,- died. "
And the conversation turned to Marshal Fabert, as was quite
natural among young soldiers. They talked of his battles, his
-


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exploits, his modesty,- which made him refuse letters of nobil-
ity and the collar of his order offered him by Louis XIV. They
spoke especially of the remarkable good fortune which had made
the simple soldier-the son of a printer-a marshal of France.
At that time he was the sole example of such advancement,
which even during his life had seemed so extraordinary that the
vulgar had not hesitated to assign it to supernatural causes.
They said that from childhood he had busied himself with magic
and sorcery; that he had made a compact with the devil.
And our landlord, who added the credulity of the Breton to
the stupidity of a peasant of Champagne, assured us with great
coolness that in the castle where Fabert had died, a black man
whom no one knew had been seen to go into his room, and had
then disappeared, bearing with him the marshal's soul, which
belonged to him from an earlier purchase. He said that even
yet, in May, the time of Fabert's death, the black man appeared
at evening carrying a little light.
This story enlivened our dessert, and we drank a bottle of
champagne to Fabert's familiar demon, inviting him to take us
also under his protection, and to make us gain a few battles like
Colhoures and La Marféc.
The next day I rose early, and made my way to the castle of
the Duke of C; an immense Gothic manor which at another
time I might not have noticed especially, but which, remembering
the account of the evening before, I now regarded with curiosity
and emotion.
The valet to whom I addressed myself answered that he did
not know whether his master was at home, or if he could receive
me. I gave him my name, and he left me alone in a kind of
armory, hung with paraphernalia of the chase and family por-
traits.
I waited for some time, and no one came. So the career of
glory and honor I had dreamed began in the antechamber, I said
to myself; and grew discontented and impatient. I had counted
the family portraits and the beams of the ceiling two or three
times, when I heard a slight sound. A door not quite closed had
been blown ajar. I looked in, and saw a very pretty room, lighted
by a glass door and by two great windows which looked upon
a magnificent park. I took a few steps in this room, and then
stopped at a sight I had not yet noticed. A man with his back
toward me was lying on a sofa. He rose, and without noticing


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me, rushed to the window. Tears furrowed his cheeks. Pro-
found despair seemed printed on all his features. He stood
motionless for some time, with his head buried in his hands;
then he began to stride up and down. Now he saw me and trem-
bled. I, pained and abashed at my own indiscretion, wanted to
withdraw, murmuring words of excuse.
"Who are you? What do you want? he said in a strong
voice, holding my arm.
"I am Sir Bernard of Roche-Bernard; and I have just arrived
from Bretagne. "
"I know, I know," he said, and threw himself into my arms;
then made me sit beside him, talking so eagerly of my father
and all my family that I did not doubt he was the owner of the
castle.
"You are M. de C-? " I asked.
He rose and looked at me excitedly. "I was, but I am no
longer; I am nothing! " And seeing my astonishment, he ex-
claimed, "Not another word, young man: do not question me! "
"But, sir, I have unintentionally witnessed your sorrow; and
if my friendship, my devotion, can bring you any comfort-»
"Yes, yes, you're right. Not that you can change my fate,
but at least you can receive my last wishes. That is all I ask of
you! "
He closed the door; then sat down again beside me, who,
trembling and agitated, awaited his words. His physiognomy
bore an expression I had never seen on any one. The brow I
studied seemed marked by fatality. His face was pale; his black
eyes flashed; from time to time his features, changed by suffer-
ing, contracted with an ironic, infernal smile.
"What I am going to tell you," he continued, "will confound
your reason. You will doubt you will not believe I myself
still doubt very often, at least I try to: but there are the
proofs; and in all our surroundings in our very organization —
there are many other mysteries that we have to accept without
understanding. "
――――――
He stopped a moment as though to collect his ideas, passed a
hand over his brow, and went on:-
"I was born in this castle. I had two brothers, both older,
who would inherit the property and titles of our family. There
was nothing for me but an abbé's mantle; and yet thoughts of
glory and ambition fermented in my head, and made my heart


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beat. Unhappy in obscurity, hungry for renown, I dreamed only
how to acquire it, and was insensible to all the pleasures and
sweetness of life. The present was nothing to me; I lived only
in the future, and that presented itself to me in darkest colors.
"I was almost thirty, and had accomplished nothing. At that
time, in the capital, literary reputations whose fame reached even
our province were springing up everywhere.
"Ah! I often said to myself, if I could only win a name in
letters! That would give me the glory which is the only happi-
ness!
"As confidant of my sorrows I had an old servant, an aged
negro, who had been in the castle before I was born, and was
certainly the most ancient inmate, for no one remembered his
coming. The country people declared even that he had known
Marshal Fabert, and had witnessed his death. "
I started; and the speaker asked me what was the matter.
"Nothing," I answered; but I could not help thinking of the
black man about whom my landlord had been talking the evening
before.
M. de C continued: "One day, before Yago (that was the
negro's name), I yielded to the despair inspired by my obscurity
and useless existence, and cried out, I would give ten years of
my life to be placed in the first rank of our authors! '
"Ten years,' he said coldly: 'that is a great deal. That is
a large price for a slight thing. Never mind. I accept your ten
I will take them. Remember your promise; I will keep
years.
mine. '
"I cannot paint my surprise at hearing this. I thought the
years must have enfeebled his reason. I smiled and shrugged
my shoulders; and a few days later I left this castle to go to
Paris. There I found myself launched in literary circles. Their
example encouraged me; and I published several works whose
success I won't recount now. All Paris hastened to applaud
them; the journals resounded with my praises; the new name I
had adopted became famous: and even yesterday, young man,
you yourself were admiring it-»
Here another gesture of surprise from me interrupted him.
"Then you are not the Duke de C-? " I exclaimed.
"No," he answered coldly.
And I said to myself, "A celebrated author! -is he Marmon-
tel? is he D'Alembert? is he Voltaire ? "


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13095
My unknown smiled; a sigh of regret and contempt touched
his lips, and he continued:-
"The literary reputation I had desired soon ceased to satisfy
a spirit as ardent as mine. I aspired to nobler success; and I
said to Yago, who had followed me to Paris: 'There is no real
glory or veritable fame except in the career of arms. What is
a man of letters, a poet? Nothing at all. Tell me of a great
captain, a general,- that is the destiny for me; and for a grand.
military reputation I would give ten of the years which remain
to me. '
"I accept them,' answered Yago. 'I take them. They be-
long to me. Don't forget it. '»
At this point the unknown stopped again, seeing the trouble
and hesitation in my face.
"I told you, young man, you could not believe me. This
seems a dream, a chimera, to you- to me also! And yet the
rank, the honors I obtained, were no illusion: the soldiers I led
under fire, the redoubts captured, the flags conquered, the vic-
tories with which all France resounded, were all my work;-all
this glory was mine! "
While he was walking up and down, talking thus with heat
and enthusiasm, my surprise increased, and I thought: "Who
is beside me? Is it Coigny? is it Richelieu? is it Marshal
Saxe? "
From a state of exaltation, my unknown fell into depression;
and drawing near, he said gloomily:-
-
"Yago was right; and later, when disgusted with the vain
incense of military glory, I aspired to what is alone of real and
positive value in this world,-when, at the price of five or six
years of existence, I desired gold and riches, he granted them to
me. Yes, young man; yes, I have seen fortune second and sur-
pass all my wishes,-lands, forests, castles. This very morning
all was still in my power; and if you don't believe me, if you
doubt Yago, wait-wait-he is coming, and you will see for
yourself, with your own eyes, that what confounds your reason
and mine is unhappily only too real. "
-
The unknown approached the mantelpiece, looked at the clock,
made a gesture of horror, and said in a low voice:-
"This morning at dawn I felt so weak and exhausted that I
could scarcely rise. I rang for my valet. Yago appeared.
"What is the matter with me? ' I said to him.


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"Master, nothing that is not very natural. The hour is
approaching; the moment is at hand. '
"And which-? '
"Can't you guess? Heaven had accorded you sixty years of
life; you had had thirty when I began to obey you. '
"Yago! I cried in terror, are you speaking seriously? '
"Yes, master; in five years you have expended in glory
twenty-five years of existence. You gave them to me.
belong to me, and will now be added to mine. '
They
"What! That was the price of your services? '
"Others have paid still more; for example, Fabert, whom
also I protected. '
"Be quiet! Be quiet! ' I said to him.
"This isn't possible.
It isn't true! '
"As you will: but prepare yourself; for you have only half
an hour to live. '
"You are mocking me; you are deceiving me! '
"Not at all. Calculate it yourself. Thirty-five years which
you have really lived, and twenty-five that you have lost! Total,
sixty. That is your account. To every one his own! '
"And he wanted to go-and I felt myself growing weaker; I
felt life escaping from me.
«Yago! Yago! Give me a few hours-a few hours more! '
"No, no,' he answered. 'That would shorten my account,
and I know better than you the price of life. There is no treas-
ure worth two hours of existence. '
"And I could scarcely speak; my eyes were clouding, the
coldness of death was chilling my veins.
"Ah! ' I said with an effort, 'take back the gifts for which
I have sacrificed everything. For four hours more I will re-
nounce my gold and all the opulence I so desired. '
"So be it. You have been a good master, and I will grant
you that. '
"I felt my strength coming back; and I cried, 'Four hours
is so little! Yago! Yago! grant me four more, and I will give
up my literary fame, and all the works which placed me so high
in the esteem of the world. '
«Four hours for that! ' said the negro disdainfully. 'It is a
great deal.
Never mind: I will not refuse this last grace. ’
"No, not the last,' I said clasping my hands. Yago! Yago!
I implore you, give me until evening,-the entire day, and let
-


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my exploits and victories, my military fame, be forever effaced
from the memory of men! This day, Yago, this whole day, and
I will be content! '
«You abuse my goodness,' he answered; 'and I am making
a foolish bargain. But never mind again. You shall live till sun-
set. Ask no more. Then good-by until evening! I will come
for you. '
"And he went away," continued the unknown despairingly,
"and this day is the last which remains to me! " Then approach-
ing the glass door which opened upon the park, he cried: “I
shall no longer see this beautiful sky, these green lawns, this
sparkling water; I shall no longer breathe the air fragrant with
spring! Fool that I was! For twenty-five years longer I might
still enjoy the good things which God bestows upon all, and
whose sweetness I appreciate now for the first time! And I
have exhausted my days! I have sacrificed them to a vain
chimera, to a sterile fame, which did not make me happy, and
which is dead before me! See-see" he said, pointing to the
peasants who were singing as they crossed the park to their
work: "what would I not give to share their labor and poverty!
But I have no longer anything to give nor anything to hope,
here below-not even unhappiness! "
At that moment a ray of sun, of the sun of May, lighted up
his pale distracted features. He seized my arm with a kind of
delirium and said:-
"See see them! How beautiful the sun is! How beautiful
the country is! I must leave all that! Ah, at least let me enjoy
it once more! Let me catch the full savor of this pure beautiful
day for me there will be no morrow! "
He rushed out into the park, and disappeared down a winding
path before I could stop him.
In truth I had not strength to do it. I had fallen back on
the sofa, overcome with what I had seen and heard. I rose and
walked, to assure myself that I was not dreaming. Then the
door opened, and a servant said to me:-
"Here is my master, the Duke de C. ”
A man of about sixty, of distinguished appearance, came for-
ward, offering me his hand, and apologizing for keeping me wait-
ing.
"I was not at home," he said. "I have just come from town,
where I have been seeking advice upon the health of my younger
brother. "


## p. 13098 (#532) ##########################################

13098
AUGUSTIN EUGÈNE SCRIBE
"Is his life in danger? " I exclaimed.
"No, monsieur, thank Heaven," answered the duke: "but in
his youth, thoughts of glory and ambition exalted his imagina-
tion; and recently a severe illness has left him prey to a kind of
delusion, in which he is constantly convinced that he has only one
day longer to live. It is his mania. ”
All was explained!
«<
"Now as to you, young man," continued the duke: we must
see what we can do to advance you. We will start for Versailles
at the end of the month. I will present you. "
"I know your kind disposition toward me, monsieur, and wish
to thank you; but-"
"What! you have not renounced the court, and the advan-
tages which await you there? "
"Yes, monsieur. "
"But remember that with my help you can make your way
rapidly; and that with a little patience and perseverance you can
in ten years—"
"Ten lost years! " I exclaimed.