THE FAREWELL
The Bacchanal Queen, following the waiter, arrived at the bottom of the staircase.A coach was standing before the door of the house.In it she saw Sleepinbuff, with one of the men who, two hours before, had been waiting on the Place du Chatelet.
On the arrival of Cephyse, the man got down, and said to Jacques, as he drew out his watch: "I give you a quarter of an hour; it is all that I can do for you, my good fellow; after that we must start.Do not try to escape, for we'll be watching at the coach doors."
With one spring, Cephyse was in the coach.Too much overcome to speak before, she now exclaimed, as she took her seat by Jacques, and remarked the paleness of his countenance: "What is it? What do they want with you?"
"I am arrested for debt," said Jacques, in a mournful voice.
"You!" exclaimed Cephyse, with a heart-rending sob.
"Yes, for that bill, or guarantee, they made me sign.And yet the man said it was only a form--the rascal!"
"But you have money in his hands; let him take that on account."
"I have not a copper; he sends me word by the bailiff, that not having paid the bill, I shall not have the last thousand francs."
"Then let us go to him, and entreat him to leave you at liberty.It was he who came to propose to lend you this money.I know it well, as he first addressed himself to me.He will have pity on you."
"Pity?--a money broker pity? No! no!"
"Is there then no hope? none?" cried Cephyse clasping her hands in anguish."But there must be something done," she resumed."He promised you"
"You can see how he keeps his promises," answered Jacques, with bitterness."I signed, without even knowing what I signed.The bill is over-due; everything is in order, it would be vain to resist.They have just explained all that to me."
"But they cannot keep you long in prison.It is impossible."
"Five years, if I do not pay.As I'll never be able to do so, my fate is certain."
"Oh! what a misfortune! and not to be able to do anything!" said Cephyse, hiding her face in her hands.
"Listen to me, Cephyse," resumed Jacques, in a voice of mournful emotion;
"since I am here, I have thought only of one thing--what is to become of you?"
"Never mind me!"
"Not mind you?--art mad? What will you do? The furniture of our two rooms is not worth two hundred francs.We have squandered our money so foolishly, that we have not even paid our rent.We owe three quarters, and we must not therefore count upon the furniture.I leave you without a coin.At least I shall be fed in prison--but how will you manage to live?
"What is the use of grieving beforehand?"
"I ask you how you will live to-morrow?" cried Jacques.
"I will sell my costume, and some other clothes.I will send you half the money, and keep the rest.That will last some days."
"And afterwards?--afterwards?"
"Afterwards?--why, then--I don't know--how can I tell you! Afterwards--
I'll look about me."
"Hear me, Cephyse," resumed Jacques, with bitter agony."It is now that I first know how mach I love you.My heart is pressed as in a vise at the thought of leaving you and I shudder to thinly what is to become of you." Then--drawing his hand across his forehead, Jacques added: "You see we have been ruined by saying--"To-morrow will never come!"--for to-
morrow has come.When I am no longer with you, and you have spent the last penny of the money gained by the sale of your clothes--unfit for work as you have become--what will you do next? Must I tell you what you will do!--you will forget me and--" Then, as if he recoiled from his own thoughts, Jacques exclaimed, with a burst of rage and despair--"Great Heaven! if that were to happen, I should dash my brains out against the stones!"
Cephyse guessed the half-told meaning of Jacques, and throwing her arms around his neck, she said to him: "I take another lover?--never! I am like you, for I now first know how much I love you."
"But, my poor Cephyse--how will you live?"
"Well, I shall take courage.I will go back and dwell, with my sister, as in old times; we will work together, and so earn our bread.I'll never go out, except to visit you.In a few days your creditor will reflect, that, as you can't pay him ten thousand francs, he may as well set you free.By that time I shall have once more acquired the habit of working.You shall see, you shall see!--and you also will again acquire this habit.We shall live poor, but content.After all, we have had plenty of amusement for six month, while so many others have never known pleasure all their lives.And believe me, my dear Jacques, when I say to you--I shall profit by this lesson.If you love me, do not feel the least uneasiness; I tell you, that I would rather die a hundred times, than have another lover."
"Kiss me," said Jacques, with eyes full of tears."I believe you--yes, I believe you--and you give me back my courage, both for now and hereafter.
You are right; we must try and get to work again, or else nothing remains but Father Arsene's bushel of charcoal; for, my girl," added Jacques, in a low and trembling voice, "I have been like a drunken man these six months, and now I am getting sober, and see whither we are going.Our means once exhausted, I might perhaps have become a robber, and you--"
"Oh, Jacques! don't talk so--it is frightful," interrupted Cephyse; "I swear to you that I will return to my sister--that I will work--that I will have courage!"
Thus saying, the Bacchanal Queen was very sincere; she fully intended to keep her word, for her heart was not yet completely corrupted.Misery and want had been with her, as with so many others, the cause and the excuse of her worst errors.Until now, she had at least followed the instincts of her heart, without regard to any base or venal motive.The cruel position in which she beheld Jacques had so far exalted her love, that she believed herself capable of resuming, along with Mother Bunch, that life of sterile and incessant toil, full of painful sacrifices and privations, which once had been impossible for her to bear, and which the habits of a life of leisure and dissipation would now render still more difficult.