"Evidently my face does not please you," continued Gilbert, half turning towards the window.
Stephane contracted his brows.
"Do not trifle, I beg of you," said he, in a hollow voice."We have serious matters between us to discuss.""The seriousness which I prefer is that of joy."Stephane passed his thin and taper hands nervously through his hair.
"Joy?" said he."It will come, perhaps, in its time, through speaking to me about it, who knows? Now I seem to be dreaming.
The disorder of my thoughts frightens me.Ask me no questions, for I should not know how to answer you.And then the sound of my voice mortifies me, irritates me.It is like a discord in music.
Let me be silent and look at you."
And approaching a long table which stood in the middle of the room, he signalled to Gilbert to place himself at one side of it and seated himself at the other.
After a long silence, he began to express his thoughts audibly, as if he had become reconciled to the sound of his voice:
"This bold, resolute air, so much pride in the look, so much goodness in the smile.It is another man.Ah! into what contempt have I fallen.I have seen nothing, divined nothing.I despised him, I hated him,--this one whom God has sent to save me from despair.See what was concealed under this simple unaffected air;this serene face, whose calmness irritated me; this gentleness which seemed servile; this wisdom which I thought pedantry; this pliancy of disposition which I took for the meanness of a crouching dog.All this I can it really be the same man!" He was silent for a moment and then continued in a more assured voice:
"How did you manage to reach here? Ah! my God! that great roof is so steep! Only to think of it makes me shudder and sets my head to whirling.While waiting I prayed to the saints for you.Did you feel their aid? I should like to know whether they stood by me in this.They have so often broken faith."Silence again, during which Stephane looked at Gilbert with a steadiness sufficient to disconcert him.
"So you have risked your life for me!" continued the young man;"but are you quite sure that I am worth the trouble? Come now, be frank.Has anyone spoken to you of me? Or have you, by studying my character, made some interesting discovery? Answer, and be careful not to lie.My eyes are upon you, they will readily discover if you are sincere.""Really, you astonish me," answered Gilbert tranquilly; "and what have I to conceal from you? All I know resolves itself into two points.In the first place, I know that you belong to the race, to the brotherhood of noble souls; I know, besides, that you are unhappy.--Pardon me, I know another thing still.I know beyond a doubt that I have conceived a lively and tender friendship for you, and that I should be very unhappy, too, if I could not expect any return from you.""You feel friendship for me? How can that be?""Ah! a strange question! Who has ever been able to answer it? It is the mystery of mysteries.I love you, because I love you: Iknow of no other explanation.You have certainly never made any very flattering advances to me.I think I have sometimes even had cause to complain of you.
"Ah, well! in spite of your scorn, of your haughtiness, of your injustice, I loved you.Ask the secret of this anomaly of Him who created man, and who planted in his heart that mysterious power which is called sympathy.""Why," said Stephane, "was not this sympathy reciprocal? As for me, from the first day I saw you I hated you.I do not know with what eyes I looked at you, but I thought that I recognized an enemy.Alas! suspicion and distrust invaded my heart long ago.
And mark, even at this moment I still doubt, I fear I may be the dupe of some illusion: I believe and I do not believe, and I am tempted to exclaim with one of the Holy Evangelists, 'My patron, my brother, my friend, I believe, help thou mine unbelief!'""Your incredulity will cure itself, and be sure, a day will come when you will say with confidence: there is in this world a soul, sister of my own, into which I can fearlessly pour all my cares, all my thoughts, all my sorrows and all my hopes.There is one who occupies himself unceasingly about me, to whom my happiness is of great moment, of supreme interest, a being to whom I can say all, confess all; a being who loves me because he knows me, and who knows me because he loves me; a being who sees with me, who sees in me, and who would not hesitate, if necessary, to sacrifice everything, even his life, upon the holy altar of friendship.And then could you not cry out in the joy of your heart: 'God he praised! I possess a friend! By the blessing of God I have learned what it is to love and to be loved."Stephane began to weep:
