I had hated De Coigny for years, but not till now did I know my own capacity for hate. Thus we go through life for years not knowing, till some day some hand draws the curtain back, holds up the mirror, reveals the other man, the Monsieur Hyde who has hidden himself at birth in the heart of Monsieur Jekyll. CHAPTER XXXVI THE DUEL "Half-past five!" Joubert was standing by the window, my bath-towels over his arm. He had drawn up the blind, and the light of early morning filled the room. I could have cursed Joubert, for he had awakened me from a most lovely dream. In a full blaze of sunlight I had been walking in the gardens of Lichtenberg with Eloise; we were children again, and little Carl was marching before us, beating his drum. Past the fountains, past the Running Man carved in stone, we went, then into the shade of the forest, led by little Carl towards some great but indefinable happiness. "Where are they?" I murmured, half unconscious that I was speaking, and rubbing my eyes as if to bring back the happy vision. "Who?" asked Joubert. I did not answer him. Who, indeed? Those children for ever vanished. I dressed rapidly, and breakfasted. I felt both nervous and excited, exactly as I had felt on the night of the production of "Undine." Then I sat down to write a line to Franzius and Eloise. I had divided my property, in case of my death, leaving half to my guardian and half to Eloise. The will was with our lawyer, and I said so in a postscript to my note. When I had finished, Joubert appeared. "The carriage is at the door." I sealed the letter, and handed it to him. "In case of accidents," said I, "post this." Joubert saluted, and put it in his pocket without glancing at the superscription. Joubert was grave. He had never saluted me before, except in a spirit of half mockery--the way one would salute a child. I had been a child in his eyes until now, but now I was evidently a man, his master; and nothing seemed, up to this, to have divided me so sharply from my childhood and my past as this suddenly begotten change in Joubert's manner; and as I stepped from the hall-door on to the pavement I felt that I was stepping for the first time into the world of manhood; that all had been play with me till now, and that now, this morning, the grim business of life had begun. Joubert got on the box beside the coachman, and we started. The early sun was bright on the trees and houses of the Champs Elysées; the trees of the Bois de Boulogne were waving in the early morning breeze; all was bright and all was fair; and it seemed a pity--a thousand pities--to have to die a morning like this, to shut one's eyes for ever, and never more see the sun. As we drew near our destination, I felt exactly as I often had felt in childhood when at the door of the dentist's: a strong desire to return home, coupled with a strong repugnance to face what had to be done.