LITMIR.BIZ

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protégée went; he would keep near her constantly that he might defend her against others and against herself.

      He must therefore rise to her level and even put himself above her level. He would live in the same house as she did, or at least would be admitted as a guest in the house she frequented. He would be a man of the world and thus would he be able to fight the world advantageously for her.

      Then he thought of himself and judged himself. He was ugly, timid, awkward, poor. He was now in the streets, without relations and without friends; he did not even know where he should go to eat and sleep that night. The servants were right to treat him as a beggar, for when hunger drove him he might perhaps have to make up his mind and beg for alms. He saw himself tramping along and laughed at the pitiable figure he would cut, so ridiculous did he seem to himself.

      And this was he, this vagabond, this child of misery and sorrow, he who was to be the protector of this little girl, clothed in silk, living in luxury and elegance. He told himself he must be dreaming, that he had lost his head, that Madame de Rionne never could have entrusted her child to a poor devil like himself, and that, in any case, he would not attempt this absurd task.

      And, thinking these things, he all the time ardently sought means to keep the vow he had made to the dying woman. Then his ideas took a new direction. Devotion and affection spoke louder in him than reason; he lost sight of himself and became once more a visionary. He regretted having left the mansion. Now he had come away, he knew not how to get in again. The noise of those gates had resounded in the depths of his heart, and he felt abashed.

      He made a thousand extravagant projects, as children and lovers do. He found out measures to gain his end, but they were measures that could never be realised; fixing on some new idea that surged in his brain, rejecting one impossible plan to immediately form one still more impossible.

      But what recurred to his mind again and again was the bitter regret that he had not quietly carried off Jeanne in his arms. In his mind’s eye he saw her once more playing on the gravel path, and persuaded himself that he could easily have stolen her. And, in the fullest simplicity, he constructed a romance out of this abduction. He saw himself flying with the child, pressing her to his bosom, and only stopping to take breath when far from the accursed house whence he had snatched her.

      Then his face grew radiant How sweet and easy became his sacrifice! He saw himself living with Jeanne, he working and she entirely dependent on him; he calling her his daughter and she calling him father. In the poverty, in the obscurity of that life he pictured himself bestowing on her every virtue, making her upright and self-respecting. And he seemed to near the passionate thanks of his good saint Suddenly Daniel paused, and a terrible idea occurred to him: his mission was an outrageous one. Was it fit that a youth of his age should watch over a young girl?

      Truly, the passersby would have laughed if they had been able to know what was passing through his simple but kindly mind at that moment. The terrors of his school days were taking hold of him once more. What! must he always be a pariah? There he was at the threshold of life, burdened with an extraordinary task, which would add still more to his gawkiness.

      But this was a wicked thought, a quick insight into life as it really was, which could not long prevail with him. Little by little the expression of his face softened; his thoughts grew more composed; he became again the ignorant child he was before. He saw Madame de Rionne smiling, he heard her speaking, and forgetting every one else, forgetting himself, he had nothing left but an ardent desire to be good and do good.

      This flood of contradictory ideas which had rushed through his mind, this fierce strife had wearied his brain, and he could not obtain a clear grasp of things. So he rested on the firm conviction that he should act according to the true dictates of his heart, and that his work could not fail to be good, and so he left all else to Providence.

      After that he came out of himself; he became interested in outward objects; he looked at the passersby, and enjoyed the sweet freshness of the evening. Human life once more engaged his thoughts, and he began to ask himself where he was going and what he ought to do.

      Chance had led him in front of one of the Luxembourg gates, those which face the rue Bonaparte. He entered the gardens and looked for a seat, for he was overpowered with fatigue.

      Under the chestnut trees children were playing, running about and screaming. The nurses in their white dresses stood chatting together; some of them were sitting down, and smiled as they listened to some men who were whispering to them.

      All the little world of the public gardens came and went in the cool of the evening, strolling leisurely along and speaking in subdued voices.

      A dim, greenish, transparent light flickered through the trees; the canopy of leaves was low down, concealing the sky; here and there the white statues could be seen glistening through the openings of the branches.

      Daniel had great difficulty in finding an unoccupied seat. He ended by discovering one in an out-of-the-way corner, and he sat down with a sigh of satisfaction. At the other end of the seat a young man was reading. He raised his head, looked at the newcomer, and they exchanged a smile.

      As the darkness increased the young man closed his book, and cast a careless look about him. Daniel, seized with sympathy, forgot his own affairs in order to follow every movement of his neighbour.

      He was a fine young fellow, with a good. figure and rather a stern-looking face. His eyes, opened to the full, looked straight ahead; his determined lips had about them an undefinable strength and loyalty, and one could read in his high forehead that he was a noblehearted youth. He seemed to be about twenty. His white hands, his plain dress, and his serious demeanour indicated a laborious student.

      After a few minutes he turned his head and fixed his straightforward and penetrating eyes on Daniel, who looked down, expecting to find on the other’s face the mocking expression with which every one greeted him. He felt the young man’s curiosity burdensome, and expected to see a sneering expression on his lips. Then he grew bolder, and, looking up, saw nothing on his neighbour’s face but a kind, friendly smile of encouragement Full of gratitude, he ventured to draw near and say to this unknown friend that it was a fine evening — that the Luxembourg garden was a delightful place for tired strollers.

      Oh, those happy chats which spring out of a stray meeting, and sometimes end in lifelong friendship! You meet once, chance brings you face to face, and then you are pouring out your heart in a sudden, unreflecting burst of confidence. You experience the fullest enjoyment in these accidental confessions; you find much sweetness in thus letting yourself go, as it were, in thus allowing a stranger to have a sudden insight into the recesses of your heart.

      In a few minutes the two young men knew each other as if they had been together from infancy; they ended by sitting close together on the seat and laughing like brothers. Sympathy arises both from similarity and dissimilarity of disposition. Daniel’s new friend had, no doubt, been attracted towards him by his anxious-looking face, by his awkwardness, his gentle and strange looks. He who was strong and good-looking took pleasure in being kind to a pitiful creature.

      And then, after having conversed together, they felt they were brothers for life. Both were orphans; both had chosen to take up the bitter search for truth by the path of science; both could only depend on their own resources. In this they were alike, and the ideas of the one awakened similar notions in the spirit of the other.

      Daniel, in the course of conversation, related his story, taking care, however, not to speak of the task for which he was henceforth to live. Besides he had no need to do violence to himself; he had stored away his devotion at the bottom of his heart and he kept it there far from every one’s sight.

      He learned that his companion was struggling bravely with poverty. Having arrived in Paris without a sou, this youth of manly heart and powerful intellect determined to become one of the distinguished men of the age. Whilst waiting for an opportunity to distinguish himself, however, he endeavoured to gain a livelihood; he earned a little money by doing menial work; then in the evening he studied, sometimes even right through the night.

      Whilst the two young men, with the freedom of youth, made confidants of one another, the darkness

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