French fiction -- Translations into English; Paris (France) -- Fiction
"I am in my right mind, unfortunately for you!" said Pierre, roughly,
seeing that Jeanne refused to believe him. "And there is no joke in the
matter. Everything is true, serious and terrible! Since you compel me
to say things which may be unpalatable, they must out. Prince Panine is
in your house, or he soon will be. Your husband, whom you think far
away, is within call, perhaps, and will come and take you unawares. Is
not that a serious matter?"
A frown overspread her face, and in an ungovernable rage she stepped
forward, determined not to give in, and exclaimed:
"Go away! or I shall call for assistance!"
"Don't call, it would look bad!" resumed Pierre, calmly. "On the
contrary, let the servants get out of the way, and get the Prince to go
if he be here, or if he has not yet arrived, prevent his coming in. So
long as I remain here you will dissimulate your fear and will not take
any precautions. I will leave you, then. Adieu, Jeanne! Believe that I
wished to render you a service, and be sure that when I have crossed the
threshold of this door I shall have forgotten everything that I may have
said."
Pierre bowed, and, lifting the heavy curtain which hid the door leading
to the gallery, went out.
He had hardly gone when the opposite door opened, and Serge entered the
room. The young woman rushed into his arms and whispered into his ear,
with trembling lips:
"Serge, we are lost!"
"I was there," answered Panine. "I heard all."
"What shall we do?" cried Jeanne, terrified.
"Go away at once. To remain here a moment longer is an imprudence."
"And I, if I remain, what shall I say to Cayrol when he comes?"
"Your husband!" said Serge, bitterly. "He loves you, he will forgive
you."
"I know; but then we two shall be separated for ever. Is that what you
desire?"
"And what can I do?" cried Serge, in despair. "Everything around me is
giving way! Fortune, which has been my one aim in life, is escaping from
me. The family which I have scorned is forsaking me. The friendship
which I have betrayed overwhelms me. There is nothing left to me."
"And my love, my devotion?" exclaimed Jeanne, passionately. "Do you
think that I will leave you? We must go away. I asked you long ago.
You resisted; the moment has now come. Be easy! Madame Desvarennes will
pay and save your name. In exchange you will give her back her daughter.
You don't care about her, because you love me. I am your real wife; she
who ought to share your life. Well, I take back my rights. I pay for
them with my honor. I break all ties which could hold me back. I am
yours, Serge! Our sin and misfortune will bind us more closely than any
laws could."
"Think, that with me you will have to endure poverty, and, perhaps,
misery," said the Prince, moved by the young woman's infatuation.
"My love will make you forget everything!"
"You will not feel regret or remorse?"
"Never, so long as you love me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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