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receives, there are only the cure and M. de Dalens, during vacation."
"Who is this M. de Dalens?"
"He owns the chateau at the foot of the mountain on the other side; he
only comes here for the chase."
"Is he young?"
"Yes."
"Is he related to Madame Pierson?"
"No, he was a friend of her husband."
"Has her husband been dead long?"
"Five years on All-Saints' day. He was a worthy man."
"And has this M. de Dalens paid court?"
"To the widow? In faith--to tell the truth--" he stopped, embarrassed.
"Well, will you answer me?"
"Some say so and some do not--I know nothing and have seen nothing."
"And you just told me that they do not talk about her in the country?"
"That is all they have said, and I supposed you knew that."
"In a word, yes or no?"
"Yes, sir, I think so, at least."
I arose from the table and walked down the road; Mercanson was there. I
expected he would try to avoid me; on the contrary he approached me.
"Sir," he said, "you exhibited signs of anger which it does not become a
man of my character to resent. I wish to express my regret that I was
charged to communicate a message which appeared so unwelcome."
I returned his compliment, supposing he would leave me at once; but he
walked along at my side.
"Dalens! Dalens!" I repeated, between my teeth, "who will tell me about
Dalens?" For Larive had told me nothing except what a valet might learn.
From whom had he learned it? From some servant or peasant. I must have
some witness who had seen Dalens with Madame Pierson and who knew all
about their relations. I could not get that Dalens out of my head, and
not being able to talk to any one else, I asked Mercanson about him.
If Mercanson was not a bad man, he was either a fool or very shrewd, I
have never known which; it is certain that he had reason to hate me and
that he treated me as meanly as possible. Madame Pierson, who had the
greatest friendship for the cure, had almost come to think equally well
of the nephew. He was proud of it, and consequently jealous. It is not
love alone that inspires jealousy; a favor, a kind word, a smile from a
beautiful mouth, may arouse some people to jealous rage.
Mercanson appeared to be astonished. I was somewhat astonished myself;
but who knows his own mind?
At his first words, I saw that the priest understood what I wanted to
know and had decided not to satisfy me.
"How does it happen that you have known Madame Pierson so long and so
intimately, I think so, at least, and have not met M. de Dalens? But,
doubtless, you have some reason unknown to me for inquiring about him
to-day. All I can say is that, as far as I know, he is an honest man,
kind and charitable; he was, like you, very intimate with Madame Pierson;
he is fond of hunting and entertains handsomely. He and Madame Pierson
were accustomed to devote much of their time to music. He punctually
attended to his works of charity and, when in the country, accompanied
that lady on her visits, just as you do. His family enjoys an excellent
reputation at Paris; I used to find him with Madame Pierson whenever I
called; his manners were excellent. As for the rest, I speak truly and
frankly, as becomes me when it concerns persons of his merit. I believe
that he only comes here for the chase; he was a friend of her husband; he
is said to be rich and very generous; but I know nothing about it except
that--"
With what tortured phrases was this dull tormentor teasing me. I was
ashamed to listen to him, yet dared not to ask a single question or
interrupt his vile insinuations. I was alone on the promenade; the
poisoned arrow of suspicion had entered my heart. I did not know whether
I felt more of anger or of sorrow. The confidence with which I had
abandoned myself to my love for Brigitte, had been so sweet and so
natural that I could not bring myself to believe that so much happiness
had been built upon an illusion. That sentiment of credulity, which had
attracted me to her, seemed a proof that she was worthy. Was it possible
that these four months of happiness were but a dream?
But, after all, I thought that woman has yielded too easily. Was there
not deception in that pretended anxiety to have me leave the country? Is
she not just like all the rest? Yes, that is the way they all do; they
attempt to escape in order to know the happiness of being pursued: it is
the feminine instinct. Was it not she who confessed her love by her own
act, at the very moment I had decided that she would never be mine? Did
she not accept my arm, the first day I met her? If that Dalens has been
her lover, he probably is still; there are certain liaisons that have
neither beginning nor end; when chance ordains a meeting, it is resumed;
when parted, it is forgotten. If that man comes here this summer, she
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