Exit Julien'I will not play that poor abbe Chas-Bernard the unkind trick of sendingfor him,' he said to Fouque; 'he would not be able to eat his dinner forthree days afterwards. But try to find me a Jansenist, a friend of M. Pirard and beyond the reach of intrigue.'

Fouque had been awaiting this development with impatience. Julienacquitted himself in a decent fashion of everything that is due to publicopinion in the provinces. Thanks to M. l'abbe de Frilair, and in spite ofhis unfortunate choice of a confessor, Julien, in his cell, was under theprotection of the Congregation; with a little more of the spirit of action,he might have made his escape. But, as the bad air of the cell producedits effect, his mental powers dwindled. This made him all the happier onthe return of Madame de Renal.

'My first duty is towards you,' she said to him as she embraced him; 'Ihave fled from Verrieres ... '

Julien had no petty vanity in his relations with her, he told her of allhis weak moments. She was kind and charming to him.

That evening, immediately upon leaving the prison, she summoned toher aunt's house the priest who had attached himself to Julien as to aprey; as he wished only to acquire a reputation among the young womenbelonging to the best society of Besancon, Madame de Renal easily persuaded him to go and offer a novena at the abbey of Bray-le-Haut.

No words could express the intensity and recklessness of Julien's love.

By spending money freely, and by using and abusing the reputation ofher aunt, well known for her piety and riches, Madame de Renal obtained permission to see him twice daily.

On hearing this, Mathilde's jealousy rose to the pitch of insanity. M. deFrilair had assured her that in spite of his position he dared not flout allthe conventions so far as to permit her to see her friend more than oncedaily. Mathilde had Madame de Renal followed, so as to be kept informed of her most trivial actions. M. de Frilair exhausted every resource of a most cunning mind, in trying to prove to her that Julien wasunworthy of her.

In the midst of all these torments, she loved him all the more, and, almost every day, created a horrible scene in his cell.

Julien wished at all costs to behave like an honourable man until theend towards this poor girl whom he had so seriously compromised; but,at every moment, the unbridled passion that he felt for Madame de Renal overcame him. When, through some flaw in his argument, he failed toconvince Mathilde of the innocence of her rival's visits: 'At this stage, theend of the play must be very near,' he said to himself; 'that is some excuse for me if I cannot act better.'

Mademoiselle de La Mole learned of the death of M. de Croisenois. M.

de Thaler, that man of boundless wealth, had taken the liberty of sayingunpleasant things about Mathilde's disappearance; M. de Croisenoiscalled on him with a request that he would withdraw them: M. de Thalershowed him certain anonymous letters addressed to himself, and full ofdetails so skilfully put together that it was impossible for the poor Marquis not to discern the true facts.

M. de Thaler indulged in pleasantries that were distinctly broad. Madwith rage and misery, M. de Croisenois insisted upon reparations sodrastic that the millionaire preferred a duel. Folly proved triumphant;and one of the men in Paris most worthy of a woman's love met hisdeath in his twenty-fourth year.

This death made a strange and morbid impression on Julien'sweakened spirits.

'Poor Croisenois,' he said to Mathilde, 'did really behave quite reasonably and honourably towards us; he had every right to hate me afteryour imprudent behaviour in your mother's drawing-room, and to seeka quarrel with me; for the hatred that follows on contempt is generallyfurious.'

The death of M. de Croisenois altered all Julien's ideas with regard toMathilde's future; he devoted several days to proving to her that sheought to accept the hand of M. de Luz. 'He is a shy man, not too much ofa Jesuit,' he told her, 'and a man who no doubt intends to climb. With amore sober and persistent ambition than poor Croisenois, and with nodukedom in his family, he will make no difficulty about marrying JulienSorel's widow.'

'And a widow who scorns grand passions,' replied Mathilde coldly;'for she has lived long enough to see, after six months, her lover preferanother woman, and a woman who was the origin of all their troubles.'

'You are unjust; Madame de Renal's visits will furnish the barristerfrom Paris, who has been engaged to conduct my appeal, with somestriking phrases; he will describe the murderer honoured by the attentions of his victim. That may create an effect, and perhaps one day youwill see me the hero of some melodrama,' etc., etc.

A furious jealousy and one that was incapable of wreaking vengeance,the prolongation of a hopeless misery (for, even supposing Julien to besaved, how was she to recapture his heart?), the shame and grief of loving more than ever this faithless lover, had plunged Mademoiselle de LaMole in a grim silence from which the zealous attentions of M. de Frilairwere no more capable than the rude frankness of Fouque, of making heremerge.

As for Julien, except during the moments usurped by the presence ofMathilde, he was living upon love and with hardly a thought of the future. A curious effect of this passion, in its extreme form and free fromall pretence, was that Madame de Renal almost shared his indifferenceand mild gaiety.

'In the past,' Julien said to her, 'when I might have been so happy during our walks in the woods of Vergy, a burning ambition led my soul into imaginary tracts. Instead of my pressing to my heart this lovely armwhich was so near to my lips, the thought of my future tore me awayfrom you; I was occupied with the countless battles which I should haveto fight in order to build up a colossal fortune ... No, I should have diedwithout knowing what happiness meant, had you not come to visit mein this prison.'

Two incidents occurred to disturb this tranquil existence. Julien's confessor, for all that he was a Jansenist, was not immune from an intrigueby the Jesuits, and quite unawares became their instrument.

He came one day to inform him that if he were not to fall into the mortal sin of suicide, he must take every possible step to obtain a reprieve.

Now, the clergy having considerable influence at the Ministry of Justicein Paris, an easy method offered itself: he must undergo a sensationalconversion ...'Sensational!' Julien repeated. 'Ah! I have caught you at the same game,Father, play-acting like any missionary ... '

'Your tender age,' the Jansenist went or gravely, 'the interesting appearance with which Providence has blessed you, the motive itself ofyour crime, which remains inexplicable, the heroic measures of whichMademoiselle de La Mole is unsparing on your behalf, everything, inshort, including the astonishing affection that your victim shows for you,all these have combined to make you the hero of the young women ofBesancon. They have forgotten everything for you, even politics ...'Your conversion would strike an echo in their hearts, and would leavea profound impression there. You can be of the greatest service to religion, and am I to hesitate for the frivolous reason that the Jesuits wouldadopt the same course in similar circumstances! And so, even in this particular case which has escaped their rapacity, they would still be doingharm! Let such a thing never be said ... The tears which will flow at yourconversion will annul the corrosive effect of ten editions of the impiousworks of Voltaire.'

'And what shall I have left,' replied Julien coldly, 'if I despise myself? Ihave been ambitious, I have no wish to reproach myself; I acted then according to the expediency of the moment. Now, I am living from day today. But, generally speaking, I should be making myself extremely unhappy, if I gave way to any cowardly temptation ... '

The other incident, which affected Julien far more keenly, arose fromMadame de Renal. Some intriguing friend or other had managed to persuade this simple, timid soul that it was her duty to go to Saint-Cloud,and to throw herself at the feet of King Charles X.

She had made the sacrifice of parting from Julien, and after such an effort, the unpleasantness of making a public spectacle of herself, which atany other time would have seemed to her worse than death, was nolonger anything in her eyes.

'I shall go to the King, I shall confess proudly that you are my lover:

the life of a man, and of such a man as Julien, must outweigh all otherconsiderations. I shall say that it was out of jealousy that you attemptedmy life. There are endless examples of poor young men who have beensaved in such cases by the humanity of a jury, or by that of the King ... '

'I shall cease to see you, I shall bar the door of my prison against you,'

cried Julien, 'and most certainly I shall kill myself in despair, the dayafter, unless you swear to me that you will take no step that will make usboth a public spectacle. This idea of going to Paris is not yours. Tell methe name of the intriguing woman who suggested it to you ... 'Let us be happy throughout the few remaining days of this brief life.

Let us conceal our existence; my crime is only too plain. Mademoisellede La Mole has unbounded influence in Paris, you may be sure that sheis doing all that is humanly possible. Here in the provinces, I have all thewealthy and respectable people against me. Your action would embitterstill further these wealthy and above all moderate men, for whom life issuch an easy matter ... Let us not give food for laughter to the Maslons,the Valenods, and a thousand people better worth than they.'

The bad air of the cell became insupportable to Julien. Fortunately onthe day on which he was told that he must die, a bright sun was gladdening the earth, and he himself was in a courageous mood. To walk inthe open air was a delicious sensation to him, as is treading solid earth toA mariner who has long been at sea. 'There, all is well,' he said to himself, 'I am not lacking in courage.'

Never had that head been so poetic as at the moment when it wasabout to fall. The most precious moments that he had known in the pastin the woods of Vergy came crowding into his mind with an extremevividness.

Everything passed simply, decorously, and without affectation on hispart.

Two days earlier, he had said to Fouque: 'For my emotions I cannotanswer; this damp and hideous cell gives me moments of fever in whichI am not myself; but fear, no; no one shall see me blench.'

He had made arrangements in advance that on the morning of the lastday, Fouque should carry off Mathilde and Madame de Renal.

'Take them in the same carriage,' he had told him. 'Arrange that thepost-horses shall gallop all the time. They will fall into one another'sarms, or else will show a deadly hatred for one another. In either case,the poor women will have some slight distraction from their terriblegrief.'

Julien had made Madame de Renal swear that she would live to lookafter Mathilde's child.

'Who knows? Perhaps we continue to have sensation after our death,'

he said one day to Fouque. 'I should dearly like to repose, since repose isthe word, in that little cave in the high mountain that overlooks Verrieres. Many a time, as I have told you, retiring by night to that cave, andcasting my gaze afar over the richest provinces of France, I have felt myheart ablaze with ambition: it was my passion then ... Anyhow, that cave is precious to me, and no one can deny that it is situated in a spot that aphilosopher's heart might envy ... Very well! These worthy members ofthe Congregation of Besancon make money out of everything; if youknow how to set about it, they will sell you my mortal remains ... '

Fouque was successful in this grim transaction. He was spending thenight alone in his room, by the body of his friend, when to his great surprise, he saw Mathilde appear. A few hours earlier, he had left her tenleagues from Besancon. There was a wild look in her eyes.

'I wish to see him,' she said to him.

Fouque had not the courage to speak or to rise. He pointed with hisfinger to a great blue cloak on the floor; in it was wrapped all that remained of Julien.

She fell upon her knees. The memory of Boniface de La Mole and ofMarguerite de Navarre gave her, no doubt, a superhuman courage. Hertrembling hands unfolded the cloak. Fouque turned away his eyes.

He heard Mathilde walking rapidly about the room. She lighted anumber of candles. When Fouque had summoned up the strength tolook at her, she had placed Julien's head upon a little marble table, infront of her, and was kissing his brow ...Mathilde followed her lover to the tomb which he had chosen for himself. A great number of priests escorted the coffin and, unknown to all,alone in her draped carriage, she carried upon her knees the head of theman whom she had so dearly loved.

Coming thus near to the summit of one of the high mountains of theJura, in the middle of the night, in that little cave magnificently illuminated with countless candles, a score of priests celebrated the Office of theDead. All the inhabitants of the little mountain villages, through whichthe procession passed, had followed it, drawn by the singularity of thisstrange ceremony.

Mathilde appeared in their midst in a flowing garb of mourning, and,at the end of the service, had several thousands of five franc piecesscattered among them.

Left alone with Fouque, she insisted upon burying her lover's headwith her own hands. Fouque almost went mad with grief.

By Mathilde's orders, this savage grot was adorned with marblessculptured at great cost, in Italy.

Madame de Renal was faithful to her promise. She did not seek in anyway to take her own life; but, three days after Julien, died while embracing her children.

TO THE HAPPY FEW