the notch on the ax and on being found out-第64部分

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tumult　of　the　heart。　　It　was　not　that　reason　was　overpowered；　on
the　contrary；　reason　was　intensely　active；　but　active　with　that
logic　of　flames　which　lights　up　the　vision　of　maniacs。

〃Although；　of　course；　my　passion　was　but　too　evident　to　every　one；
I　dreaded　its　premature　avowal；　lest　I　should　lose　her；　and　almost
equally　dreaded　delay；　lest　I　should　suffer　from　that　also。　　At
length　the　avowal　was　extorted　from　me　by　jealousy　of　a　brilliant
PoleKorinskiwho　had　recently　appeared　in　our　circle；　and　was
obviously　casting　me　in　the　shade　by　his　superior　advantages　of
novelty；　of　personal　attraction；　and　of　a　romantic　history。　　She
accepted　me；　and　now；　for　a　time；　I　was　the　happiest　of　mortals。
The　fever　of　the　last　few　weeks　was　abating；　it　gave　place　to　a
deep　tide　of　hopeful　joy。　　Could　I　have　died　then！　　Could　I　have
even　died　shortly　afterwards；　when　I　knew　the　delicious　mystery　of
a　jealousy　not　too　absorbing！　　For　you　must　know　that　my　happiness
was　brief。　　Jealousy；　to　which　all　passion　of　a　deep　and　exacting
power　is　inevitably　allied；　soon　began　to　disturb　my　content。
Agalma　had　no　tenderness。　　She　permitted　caresses；　never　returned
them。　　She　was　ready　enough　to　listen　to　all　my　plans　for　the
future；　so　long　as　the　recital　moved　amid　details　of　fortune　and
her　position　in　societythat　is；　so　long　as　her　vanity　was
interested；　but　I　began　to　observe　with　pain　that　her　thoughts
never　rested　on　tender　domesticities　and　poetic　anticipations。
This　vexed　me　more　and　more。　　The　very　spell　which　she　exercised
over　me　made　her　want　of　tenderness　more　intolerable。　　I　yearned
for　her　lovefor　some　sympathy　with　the　vehement　passion　which　was
burning　within　me；　and　she　was　as　marble。

〃You　will　not　be　surprised　to　hear　that　I　reproached　her　bitterly
for　her　indifference。　　That　is　the　invariable　and　fatal　folly　of
loversthey　seem　to　imagine　that　a　heart　can　be　scolded　into
tenderness！　　To　my　reproaches　she　at　first　answered　impatiently
that　they　were　unjust；　that　it　was　not　her　fault　if　her　nature　was
less　expansive　than　mine；　and　that　it　was　insulting　to　be　told　she
was　indifferent　to　the　man　whom　she　had　consented　to　marry。　　Later
she　answered　my　reproaches　with　haughty　defiance；　one　day
intimating　that　if　I　really　thought　what　I　said；　and　repented　our
engagement；　it　would　be　most　prudent　for　us　to　separate　ere　it　was
too　late。　　This　quieted　me　for　a　while。　　But　it　brought　no　balm　to
my　wounds。

〃And　now　fresh　tortures　were　added。　　Korinski　became　quite　marked
in　his　attentions　to　Agalma。　　These　she　received　with　evident
delight；　so　much　so；　that　I　saw　by　the　glances　of　others　that　they
were　scandalized　at　it；　and　this；　of　course；　increased　my　pain。　　My
renewed　reproaches　only　made　her　manner　colder　to　me；　to　Korinski
it　became　what　I　would　gladly　have　seen　towards　myself。

〃The　stress　and　agitation　of　those　days　were　too　much　for　me。　　I
fell　ill；　and　for　seven　weeks　lay　utterly　prostrate。　　On
recovering；　this　note　was　handed　to　me。　　It　was　from　Agalma。〃

Bourgonef　here　held　out　to　me　a　crumpled　letter；　and　motioned　that
I　should　open　it　and　read。　　It　ran　thus：


〃I　have　thought　much　of　what　you　have　so　often　said；　that　it　would
be　for　the　happiness　of　both　if　our　unfortunate　engagement　were　set
aside。　　That　you　have　a　real　affection　for　me　I　believe；　and　be
assured　that　I　once　had　a　real　affection　for　you；　not；　perhaps；　the
passionate　love　which　a　nature　so　exacting　as　yours　demands；　and
which　I　earnestly　hope　it　may　one　day　find；　but　a　genuine　affection
nevertheless；　which　would　have　made　me　proud　to　share　your　lot。
But　it　would　be　uncandid　in　me　to　pretend　that　this　now　exists。
Your　incessant　jealousy；　the　angry　feelings　excited　by　your
reproaches；　the　fretful　irritation　in　which　for　some　time　we　have
lived　together；　has　completely　killed　what　love　I　had；　and　I　no
longer　feel　prepared　to　risk　the　happiness　of　both　of　us　by　a
marriage。　　What　you　said　the　other　night　convinces　me　that　it　is
even　your　desire　our　engagement　should　cease。　　It　is　certainly
mine。　　Let　us　try　to　think　kindly　of　each　other　and　meet　again　as
friends。

AGALMA　LIEBENSTEIN。〃


When　I　had　read　this　and　returned　it　to　him；　he　said：

〃You　see　that　this　was　written　on　the　day　I　was　taken　ill。　　Whether
she　knew　that　I　was　helpless　I　know　not。　　At　any　rate；　she　never
sent　to　inquire　after　me。　　She　went　off　to　Paris；　Korinski　followed
her；　andas　I　quickly　learned　on　going　once　more　into　society
they　were　married！　　Did　you　ever；　in　the　whole　course　of　your
experience；　hear　of　such　heartless　conduct？〃

Bourgonef　asked　this　with　a　ferocity　which　quite　startled　me。　　I
did　not　answer　him；　for；　in　truth；　I　could　not　see　that　Agalma　had
been　very　much　to　blame；　even　as　he　told　the　story；　and　felt　sure
that　could　I　have　heard　her　version　it　would　have　worn　a　very
different　aspect。　　That　she　was　cold；　and　disappointed　him；　might
be　true　enough；　but　there　was　no　crime；　and　I　perfectly　understood
how　thoroughly　odious　he　must　have　made　himself　to　her　by　his
exactions　and　reproaches。　　I　understood　this；　perhaps；　all　the
better；　because　in　the　course　of　his　narrative　Bourgonef　had
revealed　to　me　aspects　of　his　nature　which　were　somewhat　repulsive。
Especially　was　I　struck　with　his　morbid　vanity；　and　his　readiness
to　impute　low　motives　to　others。　　This　unpleasant　view　of　his
charactera　character　in　many　respects　so　admirable　for　its
generosity　and　refinementwas　deepened　as　he　went　on；　instead　of
awaiting　my　reply　to　his　question。

〃For　a　wrong　so　measureless；　you　will　naturally　ask　what
measureless　revenge　I　sought。〃

The　idea　had　not　occurred　to　me；　indeed　I　could　see　no　wrong；　and
this　notion　of　revenge　was　somewhat　startling　in　such　a　case。

〃I　debated　it　long；〃　he　continued。　　〃I　felt　that　since　I　was
prevented　from　arresting　any　of　the　evil　to　myself；　I　could　at
least　mature　my　plans　for　an　adequate　discharge　of　just
retributions　on　her。　　It　reveals　the　impotence　resulting　from　the
trammels　of　modern　civilization；　that　while　the　possibilities　of
wrong　are　infinite；　the　openings　for　vengeance　are　few　and
contemptible。　　Only　when　a　man　is　thrown　upon　the　necessities　of
this　'wild　justice'　does　he　discover　how　difficult　vengeance　really
is。　　Had　Agalma　been　my　wife；　I　could　have　wreaked　my　wrath　upon
her；　with　assurance　that　some　of　the　torture　she　inflicted　on　me
was　to　fall　on　her。　　Not　having　this　power　what　was　I　to　do？　　Kill
her？　　That　would　have　afforded　one　moment　of　exquisite
satisfactionbut　to　her　it　would　have　been　simply　deathand　I
wanted　to　kill　the　heart。〃

He　seemed　working　with　an　insane　passion；　so　that　I　regarded　him
with　disgust；　mingled　with　some　doubts　as　to　what　horrors　he　was
about　to　relate。

〃My　plan　was　chosen。　　The　only　way　to　reach　her　heart　was　to　strike
through　her　husband。　　For　several　hours　daily　I　practised　with　the
pistol；　untilin　spite　of　only　having　a　left　handI　acquired
fatal　skill。　　But　this　was　not　enough。　　Firing　at　a　mark　is　simple
work。　　Firing　at　a　manespecially　one　holding　a　pistol　pointed　at
youis　altogether　different。　　I　had　too　often　heard　of　'crack
shots'　missing　their　men；　to　rely　confidently　on　my　skill　in　the
shooting　gallery。　　It　was　necessary　that　my　eye　and　hand　should　be
educated　to　familiarity　with　the　real　object。　　Part　of　the　cause
why　duelists　miss　their　man　is　from　the　trepidation　of　fear。　　I　was
without　fear。　　At　no　moment　in　my　life　have　I　been　afraid；　and　the
chance　of　being　shot　by　Korinski　I　counted　as　nothing。　　The　other
cause　is　unfamiliarity　with　the　mark。　　This　I　secured　myself
against　by　getting　a　lay　figure　of　Korinski's　height；　dressing　it
to　resemble　him；　placing　a　pistol　in　its　hand；　and　then　practising
at　this　mark　in　the　woods。　　After　a　short　time　I　could　send　a
bullet　through　the　thorax　without　taking　more　than　a　hasty　glance
at　the　figure。

〃Thus　prepared；　I　started　for　Paris。　　But　you　will　feel　for　me　when
you　learn　that　my　hungry　heart　was　baffled　of　its　vengeance；　and
baffled　for　ever。　　Agalma　had　been　carried　off　by　scarlet　fever。
Korinski　had　left　Paris；　and　I　felt　no　strong　promptings　to　follow
him；　and　wreak　on　him　a　futile　vengeance。　　It　was　on　HER　my　wrath
had　been　concentrated；　and　I　gnashed　my　teeth　at　the　thought　that
she　had　escaped　me。

〃My　story　is　ended。　　The　months　of　gloomy　depression　which
succeeded；　now　that　I　was　no　longer　sustained　by　the　hope　of
vengeance；　I　need　not　speak　of。　　My　existence　was　desolate；　and
even　now　the　desolation　continues　over　the　whole　region　of　the
emotions。　　I　carry　a　dead　heart　within　me。〃


VIII

A　SECOND　VICTIM


Bourgonef's　story　has　been　narrated　with　some　fullness；　though　in
less　detail　than　he　told　it；　in　order　that　the　reader　may
understand　its　real　bearings　on　MY　story。　　Without　it；　the　motives
which　impelled　the　strange　pertinacity　of　my　pursuit　would　have
been　unintelligible。　　I　have　said　that　a　very　disagreeable
impression　remained　on　my　mind　respecting　certain　aspects　of　his
character；　and　I　felt　somewhat　ashamed　of　my　imperfect　sagacity　in
having　up　to　this　period　been　entirely　blind　to　those　aspects。　　The
truth　is；　every　human　being　is　a　mystery；　and　remains　so　to　the
last。　　We　fa