the same sound in a thousand different forms。
〃It is the same voice！〃 said Paquita； in a melancholy voice； which De
Marsay could not overhear； 〃and the same ardor；〃 she added。 〃So be
ityes；〃 she said； with an abandonment of passion which no words can
describe。 〃Yes； but not to…night。 To…night Adolphe； I gave too little
opium to La Concha。 She might wake up； and I should be lost。 At this
moment the whole household believes me to be asleep in my room。 In two
days be at the same spot； say the same word to the same man。 That man
is my foster…father。 Cristemio worships me； and would die in torments
for me before they could extract one word against me from him。
Farewell；〃 she said seizing Henri by the waist and twining round him
like a serpent。
She pressed him on every side at once； lifted her head to his； and
offered him her lips； then snatched a kiss which filled them both with
such a dizziness that it seemed to Henri as though the earth opened；
and Paquita cried： 〃Enough； depart！〃 in a voice which told how little
she was mistress of herself。 But she clung to him still； still crying
〃Depart！〃 and brought him slowly to the staircase。 There the mulatto；
whose white eyes lit up at the sight of Paquita； took the torch from
the hands of his idol； and conducted Henri to the street。 He left the
light under the arch； opened the door； put Henri into the carriage；
and set him down on the Boulevard des Italiens with marvelous
rapidity。 It was as though the horses had hell…fire in their veins。
The scene was like a dream to De Marsay； but one of those dreams
which； even when they fade away； leave a feeling of supernatural
voluptuousness； which a man runs after for the remainder of his life。
A single kiss had been enough。 Never had /rendezvous/ been spent in a
manner more decorous or chaste； or； perhaps； more coldly； in a spot of
which the surroundings were more gruesome； in presence of a more
hideous divinity； for the mother had remained in Henri's imagination
like some infernal； cowering thing； cadaverous； monstrous； savagely
ferocious； which the imagination of poets and painters had not yet
conceived。 In effect； no /rendezvous/ had ever irritated his senses
more； revealed more audacious pleasures； or better aroused love from
its centre to shed itself round him like an atmosphere。 There was
something sombre； mysterious； sweet； tender； constrained； and
expansive； an intermingling of the awful and the celestial； of
paradise and hell； which made De Marsay like a drunken man。
He was no longer himself； and he was； withal； great enough to be able
to resist the intoxication of pleasure。
In order to render his conduct intelligible in the catastrophe of this
story； it is needful to explain how his soul had broadened at an age
when young men generally belittle themselves in their relations with
women； or in too much occupation with them。 Its growth was due to a
concurrence of secret circumstances； which invested him with a vast
and unsuspected power。
This young man held in his hand a sceptre more powerful than that of
modern kings； almost all of whom are curbed in their least wishes by
the laws。 De Marsay exercised the autocratic power of an Oriental
despot。 But this power； so stupidly put into execution in Asia by
brutish men； was increased tenfold by its conjunction with European
intelligence； with French witthe most subtle； the keenest of all
intellectual instruments。 Henri could do what he would in the interest
of his pleasures and vanities。 This invisible action upon the social
world had invested him with a real； but secret； majesty； without
emphasis and deriving from himself。 He had not the opinion which Louis
XIV。 could have of himself； but that which the proudest of the
Caliphs； the Pharoahs； the Xerxes； who held themselves to be of divine
origin； had of themselves when they imitated God； and veiled
themselves from their subjects under the pretext that their looks
dealt forth death。 Thus； without any remorse at being at once the
judge and the accuser； De Marsay coldly condemned to death the man or
the woman who had seriously offended him。 Although often pronounced
almost lightly； the verdict was irrevocable。 An error was a misfortune
similar to that which a thunderbolt causes when it falls upon a
smiling Parisienne in some hackney coach； instead of crushing the old
coachman who is driving her to a /rendezvous/。 Thus the bitter and
profound sarcasm which distinguished the young man's conversation
usually tended to frighten people； no one was anxious to put him out。
Women are prodigiously fond of those persons who call themselves
pashas； and who are； as it were accompanied by lions and executioners；
and who walk in a panoply of terror。 The result； in the case of such
men； is a security of action； a certitude of power； a pride of gaze； a
leonine consciousness； which makes women realize the type of strength
of which they all dream。 Such was De Marsay。
Happy； for the moment； with his future； he grew young and pliable； and
thought of nothing but love as he went to bed。 He dreamed of the girl
with the golden eyes； as the young and passionate can dream。 His
dreams were monstrous images； unattainable extravagancesfull of
light； revealing invisible worlds； yet in a manner always incomplete；
for an intervening veil changes the conditions of vision。
For the next and succeeding day Henri disappeared and no one knew what
had become of him。 His power only belonged to him under certain
conditions； and； happily for him； during those two days he was a
private soldier in the service of the demon to whom he owed his
talismanic existence。 But at the appointed time； in the evening； he
was waitingand he had not long to waitfor the carriage。 The
mulatto approached Henri； in order to repeat to him in French a phrase
which he seemed to have learned by heart。
〃If you wish to come； she told me； you must consent to have your eyes
bandaged。〃
And Cristemio produced a white silk handkerchief。
〃No！〃 said Henri； whose omnipotence revolted suddenly。
He tried to leap in。 The mulatto made a sign； and the carriage drove
off。
〃Yes！〃 cried De Marsay； furious at the thought of losing a piece of
good fortune which had been promised him。
He saw； moreover； the impossibility of making terms with a slave whose
obedience was as blind as the hangman's。 Nor was it this passive
instrument upon whom his anger could fall。
The mulatto whistled； the carriage returned。 Henri got in hastily。
Already a few curious onlookers had assembled like sheep on the
boulevard。 Henri was strong； he tried to play the mulatto。 When the
carriage started at a gallop he seized his hands； in order to master
him； and retain； by subduing his attendant； the possession of his
faculties； so that he might know whither he was going。 It was a vain
attempt。 The eyes of the mulatto flashed from the darkness。 The fellow
uttered a cry which his fury stifled in his throat； released himself；
threw back De Marsay with a hand like iron； and nailed him； so to
speak； to the bottom of the carriage； then with his free hand； he drew
a triangular dagger； and whistled。 The coachman heard the whistle and
stopped。 Henri was unarmed； he was forced to yield。 He moved his head
towards the handkerchief。 The gesture of submission calmed Cristemio；
and he bound his eyes with a respect and care which manifested a sort
of veneration for the person of the man whom his idol loved。 But；
before taking this course； he had placed his dagger distrustfully in
his side pocket； and buttoned himself up to the chin。
〃That nigger would have killed me！〃 said De Marsay to himself。
Once more the carriage moved on rapidly。 There was one resource still
open to a young man who knew Paris as well as Henri。 To know whither
he was going； he had but to collect himself and count； by the number
of gutters crossed； the streets leading from the boulevards by which
the carriage passed； so long as it continued straight along。 He could
thus discover into which lateral street it would turn； either towards
the Seine or towards the heights of Montmartre； and guess the name or
position of the street in which his guide should bring him to a halt。
But the violent emotion which his struggle had caused him； the rage
into which his compromised dignity had thrown him； the ideas of
vengeance to which he abandoned himself； the suppositions suggested to
him by the circumstantial care which this girl had taken in order to
bring him to her； all hindered him from the attention； which the blind
have； necessary for the concentration of his intelligence and the
perfect lucidity of his recollection。 The journey lasted half an hour。
When the carriage stopped； it was no longer on the street。 The mulatto
and the coachman took Henri in their arms； lifted him out； and；
putting him into a sort of litter； conveyed him across a garden。 He
could smell its flowers and the perfume peculiar to trees and grass。
The silence which reigned there was so profound that he could
distinguish the noise made by the drops of water falling from the
moist leaves。 The two men took him to a staircase； set him on his
feet； led him by his hands through several apartme