L'Arrabiata and Other Tales Part 49

So they all set forth; the doctor had insisted on accompanying them to the door of the hotel; there he left them, and they silently followed the waiter who carried the light before them. He opened two adjoining rooms and after wis.h.i.+ng them good night disappeared.

Valentine stretched out his hand to Eugenie. She pressed it, and said calmly, looking up at him,

"Good night to you, my dear friend, sleep well, and au revoir to-morrow."

Then she entered her room and closed the door behind her.

After remaining quiet for some time he knocked gently at the door which separated the two rooms.

"Eugenie," he whispered.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Your good night of before, was against our treaty."

"Against what treaty?"

"That which we solemnly ratified with the doctor's new wine."

"I think we have had enough of this acting I only agreed to the pledge because I thought it lay in my part."

"Can we not continue in earnest, what we began in jest. At all events it was a solemn vow made before witnesses."

"Well, then I will make up for it to-morrow morning, and now once more good night." But no movement showed that she had turned from the door.

So after a pause Valentine began again,

"And all the rest may I not consider it as true?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, all that we acted this evening."

"That is a good deal."

"Eugenie."

"Well."

"Can that be too much which alone can give me back the life and happiness you have taken from me a thousand times?"

"When I consider...."

"Oh, Eugenie, say that I may throw myself at your feet, that I may kneel before you. Do open the door--!"

"Gently, gently, my dear friend. You certainly deserve some punishment.

What! is this all your courage? You can only speak out what weighs on your mind behind the shelter of a closed door! I will bet anything that you have even put out the light hoping that the darkness may give you confidence. You dare not acknowledge your love for me in the face of day. You are a poor hero indeed. But I will now confess to you that I have owed you a grudge for many a year."

"You are jesting again, Eugenie."

"No, this time I am thoroughly in earnest. If in former years you had as little courage as now, why at all events could you not have been as cunning. Was there no door then behind which you could have owned to me what now comes too late!"

"Too late? No, Eugenie; where are the years that separate us from that time? Is it not the same timid lad of those days who now stands here, and implores you to lighten the darkness around him with a heavenly ray from your eyes. Can you leave me to despair?"

He waited some time for an answer. Suddenly the door was noiselessly opened, and she stood before him smiling, but with tears in her eyes.

"One kiss freely given you, as a token of forgiveness for all you have made me suffer," she said.

He folded her in his arms and she softly pa.s.sed her hand across his brow, saying: "Here, there are many lines, but our hearts are still fresh and youthful, and to-morrow we will begin life anew where we left it off fourteen years ago."

She pressed her lips to his, and with his arm round her waist, he led her to the window. The moon had dispersed the fog, and a gentle autumnal breeze wafted the scent of the grapes through the open cas.e.m.e.nt.

"Let us drive back to-night, my darling," she said. "I could not sleep now, and the air is quite mild. Go, while you order the carriage, I will write a few lines to the doctor, and tell him not to expect us to-morrow: Is it true, Valentine, can it be true, that we have at last told each other what we knew years ago?"--

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: The t.i.tle given to all housekeepers in old-fas.h.i.+oned houses. _Die Hausmamsell_ is so untranslatable a t.i.tle in its exact meaning, that I have left it. _Translator's_ note.]

[Footnote 2: A part of Switzerland on the frontiers of Italy.--The Translator.]

[Footnote 3: Not the Lombardy poplar, but the populus Alba, or Abele tree, which is wide spreading.--The Translator.]

[Footnote 4: Name of a promenade at Meran.--The Translator.]

[Footnote 5: Lauben. A provincial term for arcades.--The Translator.]

[Footnote 6: This is an old custom at the German universities when a new comer enters the Fellows.h.i.+p--they call it "Bruderschaft trinken."--The Translator.]

THE END.