Melmoth, Castanier, and Mme.de la Garde were standing out in the Boulevard when Melmoth raised his arm.A drizzling rain was falling, the streets were muddy, the air was close, there was thick darkness overhead; but in a moment, as the arm was outstretched, Paris was filled with sunlight; it was high noon on a bright July day.The trees were covered with leaves; a double stream of joyous holiday makers strolled beneath them.Sellers of liquorice water shouted their cool drinks.Splendid carriages rolled past along the streets.A cry of terror broke from the cashier, and at that cry rain and darkness once more settled down upon the Boulevard.
Mme.de la Garde had stepped into the carriage."Do be quick, dear!"she cried; "either come in or stay out.Really you are as dull as ditch-water this evening----""What must I do?" Castanier asked of Melmoth.
"Would you like to take my place?" inquired the Englishman.
"Yes."
"Very well, then; I will be at your house in a few moments.""By the by, Castanier, you are rather off your balance," Aquilina remarked."There is some mischief brewing: you were quite melancholy and thoughtful all through the play.Do you want anything that I can give you, dear? Tell me.""I am waiting till we are at home to know whether you love me.""You need not wait till then," she said, throwing her arms round his neck."There!" she said, as she embraced him, passionately to all appearance, and plied him with the coaxing caresses that are part of the business of such a life as hers, like stage action for an actress.
"Where is the music?" asked Castanier.
"What next? Only think of your hearing music now!""Heavenly music!" he went on."The sounds seem to come from above.""What? You have always refused to give me a box at the Italiens because you could not abide music, and are you turning music-mad at this time of day? Mad--that you are! The music is inside your own noddle, old addle-pate!" she went on, as she took his head in her hands and rocked it to and fro on her shoulder."Tell me now, old man;isn't it the creaking of the wheels that sings in your ears?""Just listen, Naqui! If the angels make music for God Almighty, it must be such music as this that I am drinking in at every pore, rather than hearing.I do no know how to tell you about it; it is as sweet as honey-water!""Why, of course, they have music in heaven, for the angels in all the pictures have harps in their hands.He is mad, upon my word!" she said to herself, as she saw Castanier's attitude; he looked like an opium-eater in a blissful trance.
They reached the house.Castanier, absorbed by the thought of all that he had just heard and seen, knew not whether to believe it or not; he was like a drunken man, and utterly unable to think connectedly.He came to himself in Aquilina's room, whither he had been supported by the united efforts of his mistress, the porter, and Jenny; for he had fainted as he stepped from the carriage.
"HE will be here directly! Oh, my friends, my friends," he cried, and he flung himself despairingly into the depths of a low chair beside the fire.
Jenny heard the bell as he spoke, and admitted the Englishman.She announced that "a gentleman had come who had made an appointment with the master," when Melmoth suddenly appeared, and deep silence followed.He looked at the porter--the porter went; he looked at Jenny--and Jenny went likewise.
"Madame," said Melmoth, turning to Aquilina, "with your permission, we will conclude a piece of urgent business."He took Castanier's hand, and Castanier rose, and the two men went into the drawing-room.There was no light in the room, but Melmoth's eyes lit up the thickest darkness.The gaze of those strange eyes had left Aquilina like one spellbound; she was helpless, unable to take any thought for her lover; moreover, she believed him to be safe in Jenny's room, whereas their early return had taken the waiting-woman by surprise, and she had hidden the officer in the dressing-room.It had all happened exactly as in the drama that Melmoth had displayed for his victim.Presently the house-door was slammed violently, and Castanier reappeared.
"What ails you?" cried the horror-struck Aquilina.
There was a change in the cashier's appearance.A strange pallor overspread his once rubicund countenance; it wore the peculiarly sinister and stony look of the mysterious visitor.The sullen glare of his eyes was intolerable, the fierce light in them seemed to scorch.
The man who had looked so good-humored and good-natured had suddenly grown tyrannical and proud.The courtesan thought that Castanier had grown thinner; there was a terrible majesty in his brow; it was as if a dragon breathed forth a malignant influence that weighed upon the others like a close, heavy atmosphere.For a moment Aquilina knew not what to do.
"What has passed between you and that diabolical-looking man in those few minutes?" she asked at length.
"I have sold my soul to him.I feel it; I am no longer the same.He has taken my SELF, and given me his soul in exchange.""What?"
"You would not understand it at all....Ah! he was right,"Castanier went on, "the fiend was right! I see everything and know all things.--You have been deceiving me!"Aquilina turned cold with terror.Castanier lighted a candle and went into the dressing-room.The unhappy girl followed him with dazed bewilderment, and great was her astonishment when Castanier drew the dresses that hung there aside and disclosed the sergeant.
"Come out, my boy," said the cashier; and, taking Leon by a button of his overcoat, he drew the officer into his room.
The Piedmontese, haggard and desperate, had flung herself into her easy-chair.Castanier seated himself on a sofa by the fire, and left Aquilina's lover in a standing position.
"You have been in the army," said Leon; "I am ready to give you satisfaction.""You are a fool," said Castanier drily."I have no occasion to fight.
