The Mysteries Of Paris Volume V Part 23

"But I shall be disgraced in the eyes of all."

"You love me better than any one--don't you?"

"Can you ask me such a question?"

"Then of what consequence is it? So far from considering you as disgraced in my eyes, I shall consider you as the victim of your own kind heart."

"But the world will accuse, condemn, calumniate your choice."

"The world! Are not you the world to me--I to you? So let it say as it may!"

"Well, quitting prison at length, my life will be precarious--miserable.

Repulsed on all sides, I may, perhaps, find no employment, and then it is appalling to think! But if this corruption which besets me should seize on me in spite of myself, what a future for you!"

"You will never grow corrupted. No; for now you know that I love you, this thought will give you the power of resisting bad examples. You will reflect that if all repulse you when you quit your prison, your wife will receive you with love and grat.i.tude, a.s.sured, as she will be, that you will still be an honest man. This language astonishes you, does it not? It astonishes even myself. I do not know whence I derive all I say to you; from the bottom of my soul, a.s.suredly--and that must convince you! That is, if you do not reject an offer made you most unreservedly, if you do not desire to reject the love of a poor girl who has only--"

Germain interrupted Rigolette with impa.s.sioned voice:

"Yes, indeed--I do accept--I do accept! Yes, I feel it. I am a.s.sured it is sometimes cowardly to refuse certain sacrifices; it is to avow oneself unworthy of them. I accept them, n.o.ble, brave girl!"

"Really, really--are you really in earnest?"

"I swear to you; and you have, too, said something which greatly struck me, and gives me the courage I want."

"Delightful! And what did I say?"

"That, for your sake, I should in future continue an honest man. Yes, in this thought I shall find strength to resist the detestable influences which surround me. I shall brave contagion, and know how to keep worthy of your love the heart which belongs to you."

"Oh, Germain, how happy I am! If I have ever done anything for you, how you recompense me now!"

"And then, observe, although you excuse my fault I shall never forget it. My future task will be double: to expiate the past and deserve the happiness I owe to you. For that I will do my best, and, as poor as I may be, the opportunity will not fail me, I am sure."

"Alas! that is true; for we always find persons more unfortunate than ourselves."

"And if we have no money, why--"

"We give our tears, as I did for the poor Morels."

"And that is holy alms. 'Charity of the soul is quite equal to that which bestows bread.'"

"You accept, then, and will never retract?"

"Never, never, my love--my wife! My courage returns to me, and I seem as though awaking from a dream, and no longer doubt myself. My heart would not beat as it does if it had lost its n.o.blest energies."

"Oh, Germain, how you delight me in speaking so! How you a.s.sure me, not for yourself but for myself. So you will promise me, now you have my love to urge you on, that you will no longer be afraid to speak to these wicked men, so that you may not excite their anger against you?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_Touched with His Lips through the Grating_"

Original Etching by Mercier]

"Take courage! When they saw me sad and sorrowful, they accused me, no doubt, of being a prey to my remorse; but when they see me proud and joyous, they will believe their pernicious example has gained on me."

"That's true; they will no longer suspect you, and my mind will be easy.

So mind, no rashness, no imprudence, now you belong to me,--for I am your little wife."

At this moment the turnkey awoke.

"Quick," said Rigolette, in a low voice, and with a smile full of grace and modest tenderness, "quick, my dear husband, and give me a loving kiss on my forehead through the grating; that will be our betrothing."

And the young girl, blus.h.i.+ng, bowed her forehead against the iron trellis.

Germain, deeply affected, touched with his lips through the grating her pure and white forehead.

"Oh, oh! What, three o'clock already?" said the turnkey; "and visitors ought to leave at two! Come, my dear little girl," he added, addressing the grisette, "it's a pity, but you must go."

"Oh, thanks, thanks, sir, for having allowed us thus to converse alone!

I have given Germain courage, and now he will look livelier, and need not fear his wicked companions."

"Make yourself easy," said Germain, with a smile; "I shall in future be the gayest in the prison."

"That's all right, and then they will no longer pay any attention to you," said the guardian.

"Here is a cravat I have brought for Germain, sir," said Rigolette.

"Must I leave it at the entrance?"

"Why, perhaps you should; but still it is such a very small matter! So, to make the day complete, give him your present yourself." And the turnkey opened the door of the corridor.

"This good man is right, and the day will be complete," said Germain, receiving the cravat from Rigolette's hands, which he pressed tenderly.

"Adieu; and to our speedy meeting! Now I am no longer afraid to ask you to come and see me as soon as possible."

"Nor I to promise you. Good-bye, dear Germain!"

"Good-bye, my dear girl!"

"Wear the cravat, for fear you should catch cold; it is so damp!"

"What a pretty cravat! And when I reflect that you knitted it for me!

Oh, I will never let it leave me!" said Germain, pressing it to his lips.

"Now, then, your spirits will revive, I hope! And so good-bye, once more. Thank you, sir. And now I go away, much happier and more a.s.sured.

Good-bye, Germain!"

"Farewell, my dear little wife!"

"Adieu!"

A few minutes afterwards, Rigolette, having put on her goloshes and taken her umbrella, left the prison more joyfully than she had entered it. During the conversation of Germain and the grisette, other scenes were pa.s.sing in one of the prison yards, to which we will now conduct the reader.