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The words expressed his compassion for sufferings he thought shared；
he little suspected the poisoned arrow which they shot into my heart。
I sprang into the carriage and ordered the postilion to drive on；
promising a good reward if I arrived in time。
Notwithstanding my impatience I seemed to do the distance in a few
minutes； so absorbed was I in the bitter reflections that crowded upon
my soul。 Dying of grief； yet her children were well？ then she died
through me！ My conscience uttered one of those arraignments which echo
throughout our lives and sometimes beyond them。 What weakness； what
impotence in human justice； which avenges none but open deeds！ Why
shame and death to the murderer who kills with a blow； who comes upon
you unawares in your sleep and makes it last eternally； who strikes
without warning and spares you a struggle？ Why a happy life； an
honored life； to the murderer who drop by drop pours gall into the
soul and saps the body to destroy it？ How many murderers go
unpunished！ What indulgence for fashionable vice！ What condoning of
the homicides caused by moral wrongs！ I know not whose avenging hand
it was that suddenly； at that moment； raised the painted curtain that
reveals society。 I saw before me many victims known to you and me；
Madame de Beauseant； dying； and starting for Normandy only a few days
earlier； the Duchesse de Langeais lost； Lady Brandon hiding herself in
Touraine in the little house where Lady Dudley had stayed two weeks；
and dying there； killed by a frightful catastrophe；you know it。 Our
period teems with such events。 Who does not remember that poor young
woman who poisoned herself； overcome by jealousy； which was perhaps
killing Madame de Mortsauf？ Who has not shuddered at the fate of that
enchanting young girl who perished after two years of marriage； like a
flower torn by the wind； the victim of her chaste ignorance； the
victim of a villain with whom Ronquerolles； Montriveau； and de Marsay
shake hands because he is useful to their political projects？ What
heart has failed to throb at the recital of the last hours of the
woman whom no entreaties could soften； and who would never see her
husband after nobly paying his debts？ Madame d'Aiglemont saw death
beside her and was saved only by my brother's care。 Society and
science are accomplices in crimes for which there are no assizes。 The
world declares that no one dies of grief； or of despair； nor yet of
love； of anguish hidden； of hopes cultivated yet fruitless； again and
again replanted yet forever uprooted。 Our new scientific nomenclature
has plenty of words to explain these things； gastritis； pericarditis；
all the thousand maladies of women the names of which are whispered in
the ear； all serve as passports to the coffin followed by hypocritical
tears that are soon wiped by the hand of a notary。 Can there be at the
bottom of this great evil some law which we do not know？ Must the
centenary pitilessly strew the earth with corpses and dry them to dust
about him that he may raise himself； as the millionaire battens on a
myriad of little industries？ Is there some powerful and venomous life
which feasts on these gentle； tender creatures？ My God！ do I belong to
the race of tigers？
Remorse gripped my heart in its scorching fingers； and my cheeks were
furrowed with tears as I entered the avenue of Clochegourde on a damp
October morning； which loosened the dead leaves of the poplars planted
by Henriette in the path where once she stood and waved her
handkerchief as if to recall me。 Was she living？ Why did I feel her
two white hands upon my head laid prostrate in the dust？ In that
moment I paid for all the pleasures that Arabella had given me； and I
knew that I paid dearly。 I swore not to see her again； and a hatred of
England took possession of me。 Though Lady Dudley was only a variety
of her species； I included all Englishwomen in my judgment。
I received a fresh shock as I neared Clochegourde。 Jacques； Madeleine；
and the Abbe Dominis were kneeling at the foot of a wooden cross
placed on a piece of ground that was taken into the enclosure when the
iron gate was put up； which the count and countess had never been
willing to remove。 I sprang from the carriage and went towards them；
my heart aching at the sight of these children and that grave old man
imploring the mercy of God。 The old huntsman was there too； with bared
head； standing a little apart。
I stooped to kiss Jacques and Madeleine； who gave me a cold look and
continued praying。 The abbe rose from his knees； I took him by the arm
to support myself； saying； 〃Is she still alive？〃 He bowed his head
sadly and gently。 〃Tell me； I implore you for Christ's sake； why are
you praying at the foot of this cross？ Why are you here； and not with
her？ Why are the children kneeling here this chilly morning？ Tell me
all； that I may do no harm through ignorance。〃
〃For the last few days Madame le comtesse has been unwilling to see
her children except at stated times。Monsieur；〃 he continued after a
pause； 〃perhaps you had better wait a few hours before seeing Madame
de Mortsauf； she is greatly changed。 It is necessary to prepare her
for this interview； or it might cause an increase in her sufferings
death would be a blessed release from them。〃
I wrung the hand of the good man； whose look and voice soothed the
pangs of others without sharpening them。
〃We are praying God to help her；〃 he continued； 〃for she； so saintly；
so resigned； so fit to die； has shown during the last few weeks a
horror of death； for the first time in her life she looks at others
who are full of health with gloomy； envious eyes。 This aberration
comes less； I think； from the fear of death than from some inward
intoxication；from the flowers of her youth which ferment as they
wither。 Yes； an evil angel is striving against heaven for that
glorious soul。 She is passing through her struggle on the Mount of
Olives； her tears bathe the white roses of her crown as they fall； one
by one； from the head of this wedded Jephtha。 Wait； do not see her
yet。 You would bring to her the atmosphere of the court； she would see
in your face the reflection of the things of life； and you would add
to the bitterness of her regret。 Have pity on a weakness which God
Himself forgave to His Son when He took our nature upon Him。 What
merit would there be in conquering if we had no adversary？ Permit her
confessor or me； two old men whose worn…out lives cause her no pain；
to prepare her for this unlooked…for meeting； for emotions which the
Abbe Birotteau has required her to renounce。 But； in the things of
this world there is an invisible thread of divine purpose which
religion alone can see； and since you have come perhaps you are led by
some celestial star of the moral world which leads to the tomb as to
the manger〃
He then told me； with that tempered eloquence which falls like dew
upon the heart； that for the last six months the countess had suffered
daily more and more； in spite of Monsieur Origet's care。 The doctor
had come to Clochegourde every evening for two months； striving to
rescue her from death； for her one cry had been； 〃Oh； save me！〃 〃To
heal the body the heart must first be healed；〃 the doctor had
exclaimed one day。
〃As the illness increased； the words of this poor woman； once so
gentle； have grown bitter；〃 said the Abbe。 〃She calls on earth to keep
her； instead of asking God to take her； then she repents these murmurs
against the divine decree。 Such alternations of feeling rend her heart
and make the struggle between body and soul most horrible。 Often the
body triumphs。 'You have cost me dear；' she said one day to Jacques
and Madeleine； but in a moment； recalled to God by the look on my
face； she turned to Madeleine with these angelic words； 'The happiness
of others is the joy of those who cannot themselves be happy；'and
the tone with which she said them brought tears to my eyes。 She falls；
it is true； but each time that her feet stumble she rises higher
towards heaven。〃
Struck by the tone of the successive intimations chance had sent me；
and which in this great concert of misfortunes were like a prelude of
mournful modulations to a funereal theme； the mighty cry of expiring
love； I cried out： 〃Surely you believe that this pure lily cut from
earth will flower in heaven？〃
〃You left her still a flower；〃 he answered； 〃but you will find her
consumed； purified by the forces of suffering； pure as a diamond
buried in the ashes。 Yes； that shining soul； angelic star； will issue
glorious from the clouds and pass into the kingdom of the Light。〃
As I pressed the hand of the good evangelist； my heart overflowing
with gratitude； the count put his head； now entirely white； out of the
door and immediately sprang towards me with signs of surprise。
〃She was right！ He is here！ 'Felix； Felix； Felix has come！' she kept
crying。 My dear friend；〃 he continued； beside himself with terror；
〃death is here。 Why did it not take a poor madman like me with one
foot in the grave？〃
I walked towards the house summoning my courage； but on the threshold
of the long antechamber which crossed the house and led to the lawn；
the Abbe Birotteau stop