childhood, this young prince has in the course of this implacable war given proofs of such chivalrous intrepidity, and of so noble a character, that his father has been surnamed the Father of the Generous.''
'That is a touching custom,' said the count. 'To recompense the father, as it were, by giving him a surname in honor of his son, is a great idea. But how strange you should have met with this book!' added the count, in surprise. 'I can understand; there is matter here to inflame the coolest head.'
'Oh! you will see, you will see,' said Adrienne.
The count continued to read: ''Colonel Drake, one of the bravest and best officers of the English army, said yesterday, in my presence, that having been dangerously wounded, and taken prisoner by Prince Djalma, after an energetic resistance, he had been conveyed to the camp established in the village of—'
Here there was the same hesitation on the part of the count, on seeing a still more barbarous name than the first; so, not wishing to try the adventure, he paused, and said to Adrienne, 'Now really, I give this up.'
'And yet it is so easy!' replied Adrienne; and she pronounced with inexpressible softness, a name in itself soft, 'The village of Shumshabad.'
'You appear to have an infallible process for remembering geographical names,' said the count, continuing: ''Once arrived at the camp, Colonel Drake received the kindest hospitality, and Prince Djalma treated him with the respect of a son. It was there that the colonel became acquainted with some facts, which carried to the highest pitch his enthusiasm for prince Djalma. I heard him relate the two following.
''In one of the battles, the prince was accompanied by a young Indian of about twelve years of age, whom he loved tenderly, and who served him as a page, following him on horseback to carry his spare weapons. This child was idolized by its mother; just as they set out on the expedition, she had entrusted her son to Prince Djalma's care, saying, with a stoicism worthy of antiquity, 'Let him be your brother.' 'He shall be my brother,' had replied the prince. In the height of a disastrous defeat, the child is severely wounded, and his horse killed; the prince, at peril of his life, notwithstanding the perception of a forced retreat, disengages him, and places him on the croup of his own horse; they are pursued; a musket-ball strikes their steed, who is just able to reach a jungle, in the midst of which, after some vain efforts, he falls exhausted. The child is unable to walk, but the prince carries him in his arms, and hides with him in the thickest part of the jungle. The English arrive, and begin their search; but the two victims escape. After a night and a day of marches, counter-marches, stratagems, fatigues, unheard-of perils, the prince, still, carrying the child, one of whose legs is broken, arrives at his father's camp, and says, with the utmost simplicity, 'I had promised his mother that I would act a brother's part by him—and I have done so.''
'That is admirable!' cried the count.
'Go on—pray go on!' said Adrienne, drying a tear, without removing her eyes from the bas-relief, which she continued to contemplate with growing adoration.
The count continued: ''Another time, Prince Djalma, followed by two black slaves, went, before sunrise, to a very wild spot, to seize a couple of tiger cubs only a few days old. The den had been previously discovered. The two old tigers were still abroad. One of the blacks entered the den by a narrow aperture; the other, aided by Djalma, cut down a tolerably large tree, to prepare a trap for one of the old tigers. On the side of the aperture, the cavern was exceedingly steep. The prince mounted to the top of it with agility, to set his trap, with the aid of the other black. Suddenly, a dreadful roar was heard; and, in a few bounds, the tigress, returning from the chase, reached the opening of the den. The black who was laying the trap with the prince had his skull fractured by her bite; the tree, falling across the entrance, prevented the female from penetrating the cavern, and at the same time stopped the exit of the black who had seized the cubs.
''About twenty feet higher, upon a ledge of rock, the prince lay flat on the ground, looking down upon this frightful spectacle. The tigress, rendered furious by the cries of her little ones, gnawed the hands of the black, who, from the interior of the den, strove to support the trunk of the tree, his only rampart, whilst he uttered the most lamentable outcries.'
'It is horrible!' said the count.
'Oh! go on! pray go on!' exclaimed Adrienne, with excitement; 'you will see what can be achieved by the heroism of goodness.'
The count pursued: ''Suddenly the prince seized his dagger between his teeth, fastened his sash to a block of stone, took his axe in one hand, and with the other slid down this substitute for a rope; falling a few steps from the wild beast, he sprang upon her, and, swift as lightning, dealt her two mortal strokes, just as the black, losing his strength, was about to drop the trunk of the tree, sure to have been torn to pieces.''
'And you are astonished at his resemblance with the demi-god, to whom fable itself ascribes no more generous devotion!' cried the young lady, with still increasing excitement.
'I am astonished no longer, I only admire,' said the count, in a voice of emotion; 'and, at these two noble instances of heroism, my heart beats with enthusiasm, as if I were still twenty.'
'And the noble heart of this traveller beat like yours at the recital,' said Adrienne; 'you will see.'
''What renders so admirable the intrepidity of the prince, is, that, according to the principle of Indian castes, the life of a slave is of no importance; thus a king's son, risking his life for the safety of a poor creature, so generally despised, obeyed an heroic and truly Christian instinct of charity, until then unheard of in this country.'
''Two such actions,' said Colonel Drake, with good reason, 'are sufficient to paint the man; it is with a feeling of profound respect and admiration, therefore, that I, an obscure traveller, have written the name of Prince Djalma in my book; and at the same time, I have experienced a kind of sorrow, when I have asked myself what would be the future fate of this prince, buried in the depths of a savage country, always devastated by war. However humble may be the homage that I pay to this character, worthy of the heroic age, his name will at least be repeated with generous enthusiasm by all those who have hearts that beat in sympathy with what is great and noble.''
'And just now, when I read those simple and touching lines,' resumed Adrienne, 'I could not forbear pressing my lips to the name of the traveller.'
'Yes; he is such as I thought him,' cried the count, with still more emotion, as he returned the book to Adrienne, who rose, with a grave and touching air, and said to him: 'It was thus I wished you to know him, that you might understand my adoration; for this courage, this heroic goodness, I had guessed beforehand, when I was an involuntary listener to his conversation. From that moment, I knew him to be generous as intrepid, tender and sensitive as energetic and resolute; and when I saw him so marvellously beautiful—so different, in the noble character of his countenance, and even in the style of his garments, from all I had hitherto met with—when I saw the impression that I made upon him, and which I perhaps felt still more violently—I knew that my whole life was bound up with his love.'
'And now, what are your plans?'
'Divine, radiant as my heart. When he learns his happiness, I wish that Djalma should feel dazzled as I do, so as to prevent my gazing on my sun; for I repeat, that until tomorrow will be a century to me. Yes, it is strange! I should have thought that after such a discovery, I should feel the want of being left alone, plunged in an ocean of delicious dreams. But no! from this time till to-morrow—I dread solitude—I feel a kind of feverish impatience— uneasy—ardent—Oh! where is the beneficent fairy, that, touching me with her wand, will lull me into slumber till to-morrow!'
'I will be that beneficent fairy,' said the count, smiling.
'You?'
'Yes, I.'
'And how so?'
'The power of my wand is this: I will relieve you from a portion of your thoughts by making them materially visible.'
'Pray explain yourself.'
'And my plan will have another advantage for you. Listen to me; you are so happy now that you can hear anything. Your odious aunt, and her equally odious friends, are spreading the report that your residence with Dr. Baleinier—'
'Was rendered necessary by the derangement of my mind,' said Adrienne, with a smile; 'I expected that.'
'It is stupid enough; but, as your resolution to live alone makes many envious of you, and many hostile, you must feel that there will be no want of persons ready to believe the most absurd calumny possible.'
'I hope as much. To pass for mad in the eyes of fools is very flattering.'
'Yes; but to prove to fools that they are fools, and that in the face of all Paris, is much more amusing. Now,
