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interrupting the narrator suddenly。 〃Say no more； let me remain in
uncertainty and believe that he was saved。 If I hear now that he was
shot I shall not sleep all night。 To…morrow you shall tell me the
rest。〃
We rose from table。 My neighbor in accepting Monsieur Hermann's arm；
said to him
〃I suppose he was shot； was he not？〃
〃Yes。 I was present at the execution。〃
〃Oh！ monsieur；〃 she said； 〃how could you〃
〃He desired it； madame。 There was something really dreadful in
following the funeral of a living man； a man my heart cared for； an
innocent man！ The poor young fellow never ceased to look at me。 He
seemed to live only in me。 He wanted； he said； that I should carry to
his mother his last sigh。〃
〃And did you？〃
〃At the peace of Amiens I went to France； for the purpose of taking to
the mother those blessed words； 'He was innocent。' I religiously
undertook that pilgrimage。 But Madame Magnan had died of consumption。
It was not without deep emotion that I burned the letter of which I
was the bearer。 You will perhaps smile at my German imagination； but I
see a drama of sad sublimity in the eternal secrecy which engulfed
those parting words cast between two graves； unknown to all creation；
like the cry uttered in a desert by some lonely traveller whom a lion
seizes。〃
〃And if；〃 I said； interrupting him； 〃you were brought face to face
with a man now in this room； and were told； 'This is the murderer！'
would not that be another drama？ And what would you do？〃
Monsieur Hermann looked for his hat and went away。
〃You are behaving like a young man； and very heedlessly；〃 said my
neighbor。 〃Look at Taillefer！there； seated on that sofa at the
corner of the fireplace。 Mademoiselle Fanny is offering him a cup of
coffee。 He smiles。 Would a murderer to whom that tale must have been
torture； present so calm a face？ Isn't his whole air patriarchal？〃
〃Yes； but go and ask him if he went to the war in Germany；〃 I said。
〃Why not？〃
And with that audacity which is seldom lacking to women when some
action attracts them； or their minds are impelled by curiosity； my
neighbor went up to the purveyor。
〃Were you ever in Germany？〃 she asked。
Taillefer came near dropping his cup and saucer。
〃I； madame？ No； never。〃
〃What are you talking about； Taillefer〃； said our host； interrupting
him。 〃Were you not in the commissariat during the campaign of Wagram？〃
〃Ah； true！〃 replied Taillefer； 〃I was there at that time。〃
〃You are mistaken；〃 said my neighbor； returning to my side； 〃that's a
good man。〃
〃Well；〃 I cried； 〃before the end of this evening； I will hunt that
murderer out of the slough in which he is hiding。〃
Every day； before our eyes； a moral phenomenon of amazing profundity
takes place which is； nevertheless； so simple as never to be noticed。
If two men meet in a salon； one of whom has the right to hate or
despise the other； whether from a knowledge of some private and latent
fact which degrades him； or of a secret condition； or even of a coming
revenge； those two men divine each other's souls； and are able to
measure the gulf which separates or ought to separate them。 They
observe each other unconsciously； their minds are preoccupied by
themselves； through their looks； their gestures； an indefinable
emanation of their thought transpires； there's a magnet between them。
I don't know which has the strongest power of attraction； vengeance or
crime； hatred or insult。 Like a priest who cannot consecrate the host
in presence of an evil spirit； each is ill at ease and distrustful；
one is polite； the other surly； but I know not which； one colors or
turns pale； the other trembles。 Often the avenger is as cowardly as
the victim。 Few men have the courage to invoke an evil； even when just
or necessary； and men are silent or forgive a wrong from hatred of
uproar or fear of some tragic ending。
This introsusception of our souls and our sentiments created a
mysterious struggle between Taillefer and myself。 Since the first
inquiry I had put to him during Monsieur Hermann's narrative； he had
steadily avoided my eye。 Possibly he avoided those of all the other
guests。 He talked with the youthful； inexperienced daughter of the
banker； feeling； no doubt； like many other criminals； a need of
drawing near to innocence； hoping to find rest there。 But； though I
was a long distance from him； I heard him； and my piercing eye
fascinated his。 When he thought he could watch me unobserved our eyes
met； and his eyelids dropped immediately。
Weary of this torture； Taillefer seemed determined to put an end to it
by sitting down at a card…table。 I at once went to bet on his
adversary； hoping to lose my money。 The wish was granted； the player
left the table and I took his place； face to face with the murderer。
〃Monsieur；〃 I said； while he dealt the cards； 〃may I ask if you are
Monsieur Frederic Taillefer； whose family I know very well at
Beauvais？〃
〃Yes； monsieur；〃 he answered。
He dropped the cards； turned pale； put his hands to his head and rose；
asking one of the bettors to take his hand。
〃It is too hot here；〃 he cried； 〃I fear〃
He did not end the sentence。 His face expressed intolerable suffering；
and he went out hastily。 The master of the house followed him and
seemed to take an anxious interest in his condition。 My neighbor and I
looked at each other； but I saw a tinge of bitter sadness or reproach
upon her countenance。
〃Do you think your conduct is merciful？〃 she asked； drawing me to the
embrasure of a window just as I was leaving the card…table； having
lost all my money。 〃Would you accept the power of reading hearts？ Why
not leave things to human justice or divine justice？ We may escape one
but we cannot escape the other。 Do you think the privilege of a judge
of the court of assizes so much to be envied？ You have almost done the
work of an executioner。〃
〃After sharing and stimulating my curiosity； why are you now lecturing
me on morality？〃
〃You have made me reflect；〃 she answered。
〃So； then； peace to villains； war to the sorrowful； and let's deify
gold！ However； we will drop the subject；〃 I added； laughing。 〃Do you
see that young girl who is just entering the salon？〃
〃Yes； what of her？〃
〃I met her； three days ago； at the ball of the Neapolitan ambassador；
and I am passionately in love with her。 For pity's sake tell me her
name。 No one was able〃
〃That is Mademoiselle Victorine Taillefer。〃
I grew dizzy。
〃Her step…mother；〃 continued my neighbor； 〃has lately taken her from a
convent； where she was finishing； rather late in the day； her
education。 For a long time her father refused to recognize her。 She
comes here for the first time。 She is very beautiful and very rich。〃
These words were accompanied by a sardonic smile。
At this moment we heard violent； but smothered outcries； they seemed
to come from a neighboring apartment and to be echoed faintly back
through the garden。
〃Isn't that the voice of Monsieur Taillefer？〃 I said。
We gave our full attention to the noise； a frightful moaning reached
our ears。 The wife of the banker came hurriedly towards us and closed
the window。
〃Let us avoid a scene；〃 she said。 〃If Mademoiselle Taillefer hears her
father； she might be thrown into hysterics。〃
The banker now re…entered the salon； looked round for Victorine； and
said a few words in her ear。 Instantly the young girl uttered a cry；
ran to the door； and disappeared。 This event produced a great
sensation。 The card…players paused。 Every one questioned his neighbor。
The murmur of voices swelled； and groups gathered。
〃Can Monsieur Taillefer be〃 I began。
〃dead？〃 said my sarcastic neighbor。 〃You would wear the gayest
mourning； I fancy！〃
〃But what has happened to him？〃
〃The poor dear man；〃 said the mistress of the house； 〃is subject to
attacks of a disease the name of which I never can remember； though
Monsieur Brousson has often told it to me； and he has just been seized
with one。〃
〃What is the nature of the disease？〃 asked an examining…judge。
〃Oh； it is something terrible； monsieur；〃 she replied。 〃The doctors
know no remedy。 It causes the most dreadful suffering。 One day； while
the unfortunate man was staying at my country…house； he had an attack；
and I was obliged to go away and stay with a neighbor to avoid hearing
him； his cries were terrible； he tried to kill himself； his daughter
was obliged to have him put into a strait…jacket and fastened to his
bed。 The poor man declares there are live animals in his head gnawing
his brain； every nerve quivers with horrible shooting pains； and he
writhes in torture。 He suffers so much in his head that he did not
even feel the moxas they used formerly to apply to relieve it； but
Monsieur Brousson； who is now his physician； has forbidden that
remedy； decl