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Towards evening； after they had passed Cesne； he was awakened by
lively music； and found himself confronted with a village fair。 The
horses were changed near the marketplace。 Whilst the postilions were
engaged in making the transfer； he saw the people dancing merrily；
pretty and attractive girls with flowers about them； excited youths；
and finally the jolly wine…flushed countenances of old peasants。
Children prattled； old women laughed and chatted； everything spoke in
one voice； and there was a holiday gaiety about everything； down to
their clothing and the tables that were set out。 A cheerful expression
pervaded the square and the church； the roofs and windows； even the
very doorways of the village seemed likewise to be in holiday trim。
Raphael could not repress an angry exclamation； nor yet a wish to
silence the fiddles； annihilate the stir and bustle； stop the clamor；
and disperse the ill…timed festival； like a dying man； he felt unable
to endure the slightest sound； and he entered his carriage much
annoyed。 When he looked out upon the square from the window； he saw
that all the happiness was scared away； the peasant women were in
flight； and the benches were deserted。 Only a blind musician； on the
scaffolding of the orchestra； went on playing a shrill tune on his
clarionet。 That piping of his； without dancers to it； and the solitary
old man himself； in the shadow of the lime…tree； with his curmudgeon's
face； scanty hair； and ragged clothing； was like a fantastic picture
of Raphael's wish。 The heavy rain was pouring in torrents； it was one
of those thunderstorms that June brings about so rapidly； to cease as
suddenly。 The thing was so natural； that； when Raphael had looked out
and seen some pale clouds driven over by a gust of wind； he did not
think of looking at the piece of skin。 He lay back again in the corner
of his carriage； which was very soon rolling upon its way。
The next day found him back in his home again； in his own room； beside
his own fireside。 He had had a large fire lighted； he felt cold。
Jonathan brought him some letters； they were all from Pauline。 He
opened the first one without any eagerness； and unfolded it as if it
had been the gray…paper form of application for taxes made by the
revenue collector。 He read the first sentence：
〃Gone！ This really is a flight； my Raphael。 How is it？ No one can tell
me where you are。 And who should know if not I？〃
He did not wish to learn any more。 He calmly took up the letters and
threw them in the fire； watching with dull and lifeless eyes the
perfumed paper as it was twisted； shriveled； bent； and devoured by the
capricious flames。 Fragments that fell among the ashes allowed him to
see the beginning of a sentence； or a half…burnt thought or word； he
took a pleasure in deciphering thema sort of mechanical amusement。
〃Sitting at your doorexpectedCapriceI obeyRivalsI； never！
thy Paulineloveno more of Pauline？If you had wished to leave me
for ever； you would not have deserted meLove eternalTo die〃
The words caused him a sort of remorse； he seized the tongs； and
rescued a last fragment of the letter from the flames。
〃I have murmured；〃 so Pauline wrote； 〃but I have never complained； my
Raphael！ If you have left me so far behind you； it was doubtless
because you wished to hide some heavy grief from me。 Perhaps you will
kill me one of these days； but you are too good to torture me。 So do
not go away from me like this。 There！ I can bear the worst of torment；
if only I am at your side。 Any grief that you could cause me would not
be grief。 There is far more love in my heart for you than I have ever
yet shown you。 I can endure anything； except this weeping far away
from you； this ignorance of your〃
Raphael laid the scorched scrap on the mantelpiece； then all at once
he flung it into the fire。 The bit of paper was too clearly a symbol
of his own love and luckless existence。
〃Go and find M。 Bianchon；〃 he told Jonathan。
Horace came and found Raphael in bed。
〃Can you prescribe a draught for mesome mild opiate which will
always keep me in a somnolent condition； a draught that will not be
injurious although taken constantly。〃
〃Nothing is easier；〃 the young doctor replied； 〃but you will have to
keep on your feet for a few hours daily； at any rate； so as to take
your food。〃
〃A few hours！〃 Raphael broke in； 〃no； no！ I only wish to be out of bed
for an hour at most。〃
〃What is your object？〃 inquired Bianchon。
〃To sleep； for so one keeps alive； at any rate；〃 the patient answered。
〃Let no one come in； not even Mlle。 Pauline de Wistchnau！〃 he added to
Jonathan； as the doctor was writing out his prescription。
〃Well； M。 Horace； is there any hope？〃 the old servant asked； going as
far as the flight of steps before the door； with the young doctor。
〃He may live for some time yet； or he may die to…night。 The chances of
life and death are evenly balanced in his case。 I can't understand it
at all；〃 said the doctor； with a doubtful gesture。 〃His mind ought to
be diverted。〃
〃Diverted！ Ah； sir； you don't know him！ He killed a man the other day
without a word！Nothing can divert him！〃
For some days Raphael lay plunged in the torpor of this artificial
sleep。 Thanks to the material power that opium exerts over the
immaterial part of us； this man with the powerful and active
imagination reduced himself to the level of those sluggish forms of
animal life that lurk in the depths of forests； and take the form of
vegetable refuse； never stirring from their place to catch their easy
prey。 He had darkened the very sun in heaven； the daylight never
entered his room。 About eight o'clock in the evening he would leave
his bed； with no very clear consciousness of his own existence； he
would satisfy the claims of hunger and return to bed immediately。 One
dull blighted hour after another only brought confused pictures and
appearances before him； and lights and shadows against a background of
darkness。 He lay buried in deep silence； movement and intelligence
were completely annihilated for him。 He woke later than usual one
evening； and found that his dinner was not ready。 He rang for
Jonathan。
〃You can go；〃 he said。 〃I have made you rich； you shall be happy in
your old age； but I will not let you muddle away my life any longer。
Miserable wretch！ I am hungrywhere is my dinner？ How is it？Answer
me！〃
A satisfied smile stole over Jonathan's face。 He took a candle that
lit up the great dark rooms of the mansion with its flickering light；
brought his master； who had again become an automaton； into a great
gallery； and flung a door suddenly open。 Raphael was all at once
dazzled by a flood of light and amazed by an unheard…of scene。
His chandeliers had been filled with wax…lights； the rarest flowers
from his conservatory were carefully arranged about the room； the
table sparkled with silver； gold； crystal； and porcelain； a royal
banquet was spreadthe odors of the tempting dishes tickled the
nervous fibres of the palate。 There sat his friends； he saw them among
beautiful women in full evening dress； with bare necks and shoulders；
with flowers in their hair； fair women of every type； with sparkling
eyes； attractively and fancifully arrayed。 One had adopted an Irish
jacket； which displayed the alluring outlines of her form； one wore
the 〃basquina〃 of Andalusia； with its wanton grace； here was a half…
clad Dian the huntress； there the costume of Mlle。 de la Valliere；
amorous and coy； and all of them alike were given up to the
intoxication of the moment。
As Raphael's death…pale face showed itself in the doorway； a sudden
outcry broke out； as vehement as the blaze of this improvised banquet。
The voices； perfumes； and lights； the exquisite beauty of the women；
produced their effect upon his senses； and awakened his desires。
Delightful music； from unseen players in the next room； drowned the
excited tumult in a torrent of harmonythe whole strange vision was
complete。
Raphael felt a caressing pressure on is own hand； a woman's white；
youthful arms were stretched out to grasp him； and the hand was
Aquilina's。 He knew now that this scene was not a fantastic illusion
like the fleeting pictures of his disordered dreams； he uttered a
dreadful cry； slammed the door； and dealt his heartbroken old servant
a blow in the face。
〃Monster！〃 he cried； 〃so you have sworn to kill me！〃 and trembling at
the risks he had just now run； he summoned all his energies； reached
his room； took a powerful sleeping draught； and went to bed。
〃The devil！〃 cried Jonathan； recovering himself。 〃And M。 Bianchon most
certainly told me to divert his mind。〃
It was close upon midnight。 By that time； owing to one of those
physical caprices that are the marvel and the despair of science；
Raphael； in his slumber； became radiant with beauty。 A bright color
glowed on his pale cheeks。 There was an almost girlish grace about the
forehead in which his genius was revealed。 Life seemed to bloom on the
quiet face that lay there at rest。 His sleep was sound； a light； even
breath was drawn in between red lips； he was smilinghe had passed no
doubt through the gate of dreams into a noble life。 Was he a
centena