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Nature had made so seductive a man。
〃These women are making sport of me；〃 said Henri to himself。
At that moment Paquita raised her head； cast at him one of those looks
which reach the very soul and consume it。 So beautiful seemed she that
he swore he would possess such a treasure of beauty。
〃My Paquita！ Be mine！〃
〃Wouldst thou kill me？〃 she said fearfully； palpitating and anxious；
but drawn towards him by an inexplicable force。
〃Kill theeI！〃 he said； smiling。
Paquita uttered a cry of alarm； said a word to the old woman； who
authoritatively seized Henri's hand and that of her daughter。 She
gazed at them for a long time； and then released them； wagging her
head in a fashion horribly significant。
〃Be minethis evening； this moment； follow me； do not leave me！ It
must be； Paquita！ Dost thou love me？ Come！〃
In a moment he had poured out a thousand foolish words to her； with
the rapidity of a torrent coursing between the rocks； and repeating
the same sound in a thousand different forms。
〃It is the same voice！〃 said Paquita； in a melancholy voice； which De
Marsay could not overhear； 〃and the same ardor；〃 she added。 〃So be
ityes；〃 she said； with an abandonment of passion which no words can
describe。 〃Yes； but not to…night。 To…night Adolphe； I gave too little
opium to La Concha。 She might wake up； and I should be lost。 At this
moment the whole household believes me to be asleep in my room。 In two
days be at the same spot； say the same word to the same man。 That man
is my foster…father。 Cristemio worships me； and would die in torments
for me before they could extract one word against me from him。
Farewell；〃 she said seizing Henri by the waist and twining round him
like a serpent。
She pressed him on every side at once； lifted her head to his； and
offered him her lips； then snatched a kiss which filled them both with
such a dizziness that it seemed to Henri as though the earth opened；
and Paquita cried： 〃Enough； depart！〃 in a voice which told how little
she was mistress of herself。 But she clung to him still； still crying
〃Depart！〃 and brought him slowly to the staircase。 There the mulatto；
whose white eyes lit up at the sight of Paquita； took the torch from
the hands of his idol； and conducted Henri to the street。 He left the
light under the arch； opened the door； put Henri into the carriage；
and set him down on the Boulevard des Italiens with marvelous
rapidity。 It was as though the horses had hell…fire in their veins。
The scene was like a dream to De Marsay； but one of those dreams
which； even when they fade away； leave a feeling of supernatural
voluptuousness； which a man runs after for the remainder of his life。
A single kiss had been enough。 Never had /rendezvous/ been spent in a
manner more decorous or chaste； or； perhaps； more coldly； in a spot of
which the surroundings were more gruesome； in presence of a more
hideous divinity； for the mother had remained in Henri's imagination
like some infernal； cowering thing； cadaverous； monstrous； savagely
ferocious； which the imagination of poets and painters had not yet
conceived。 In effect； no /rendezvous/ had ever irritated his senses
more； revealed more audacious pleasures； or better aroused love from
its centre to shed itself round him like an atmosphere。 There was
something sombre； mysterious； sweet； tender； constrained； and
expansive； an intermingling of the awful and the celestial； of
paradise and hell； which made De Marsay like a drunken man。
He was no longer himself； and he was； withal； great enough to be able
to resist the intoxication of pleasure。
In order to render his conduct intelligible in the catastrophe of this
story； it is needful to explain how his soul had broadened at an age
when young men generally belittle themselves in their relations with
women； or in too much occupation with them。 Its growth was due to a
concurrence of secret circumstances； which invested him with a vast
and unsuspected power。
This young man held in his hand a sceptre more powerful than that of
modern kings； almost all of whom are curbed in their least wishes by
the laws。 De Marsay exercised the autocratic power of an Oriental
despot。 But this power； so stupidly put into execution in Asia by
brutish men； was increased tenfold by its conjunction with European
intelligence； with French witthe most subtle； the keenest of all
intellectual instruments。 Henri could do what he would in the interest
of his pleasures and vanities。 This invisible action upon the social
world had invested him with a real； but secret； majesty； without
emphasis and deriving from himself。 He had not the opinion which Louis
XIV。 could have of himself； but that which the proudest of the
Caliphs； the Pharoahs； the Xerxes； who held themselves to be of divine
origin； had of themselves when they imitated God； and veiled
themselves from their subjects under the pretext that their looks
dealt forth death。 Thus； without any remorse at being at once the
judge and the accuser； De Marsay coldly condemned to death the man or
the woman who had seriously offended him。 Although often pronounced
almost lightly； the verdict was irrevocable。 An error was a misfortune
similar to that which a thunderbolt causes when it falls upon a
smiling Parisienne in some hackney coach； instead of crushing the old
coachman who is driving her to a /rendezvous/。 Thus the bitter and
profound sarcasm which distinguished the young man's conversation
usually tended to frighten people； no one was anxious to put him out。
Women are prodigiously fond of those persons who call themselves
pashas； and who are； as it were accompanied by lions and executioners；
and who walk in a panoply of terror。 The result； in the case of such
men； is a security of action； a certitude of power； a pride of gaze； a
leonine consciousness； which makes women realize the type of strength
of which they all dream。 Such was De Marsay。
Happy； for the moment； with his future； he grew young and pliable； and
thought of nothing but love as he went to bed。 He dreamed of the girl
with the golden eyes； as the young and passionate can dream。 His
dreams were monstrous images； unattainable extravagancesfull of
light； revealing invisible worlds； yet in a manner always incomplete；
for an intervening veil changes the conditions of vision。
For the next and succeeding day Henri disappeared and no one knew what
had become of him。 His power only belonged to him under certain
conditions； and； happily for him； during those two days he was a
private soldier in the service of the demon to whom he owed his
talismanic existence。 But at the appointed time； in the evening； he
was waitingand he had not long to waitfor the carriage。 The
mulatto approached Henri； in order to repeat to him in French a phrase
which he seemed to have learned by heart。
〃If you wish to come； she told me； you must consent to have your eyes
bandaged。〃
And Cristemio produced a white silk handkerchief。
〃No！〃 said Henri； whose omnipotence revolted suddenly。
He tried to leap in。 The mulatto made a sign； and the carriage drove
off。
〃Yes！〃 cried De Marsay； furious at the thought of losing a piece of
good fortun