Chapter 24 twenty two

How can I describe to you what I felt when I saw the Garzo Tower by accident?I have only seen it twice in my life; both times involved the most painful and exciting scenes here, but these scenes were nothing compared with the other scene that awaited me in this third encounter; Some places are damned! From the half-broken door I could still see the blood spattered by the two Maupras.Their sinful lives and tragic end made me blush at the gross instincts I realized.I loathe my own feelings, and understand why Edmee does not love me.Yet, as if there were in this pathetic blood something that necessarily aroused sympathy, I felt that my passions grew in their wild strength as my will struggled to restrain them.I restrained all other desires, and there was almost no trace of debauchery on my body.I was temperate in my diet, and at least affectionate and compassionate, if not refined and patient.I deeply understand the law of honor and have a high respect for the dignity of others.Love is my worst enemy, for it is inseparably bound up with all my acquired morals and delicate sentiments; it is the bond between the old and the new, the unbreakable bond, the halfway point impossible for me found.

I stood before Edmee, who was about to leave me to walk alone, and saw her evade me for the last time (for she would probably never risk being alone with me again since I had just offended her) , looking at her with horror.I was pale and my fists were contracted; if I wanted to, I could have pulled her off the horse with a light grab, and she fell to the ground, at my mercy.By letting go of my wild instincts for a moment, I can satisfy and extinguish the fire that has been eating me for seven years by a moment of possession!Edmee never knew what perils her honor passed in this distressing hour; for which I am forever condemned; but God alone can judge me, for I am victorious, and this is my life The last evil thought.Besides, all my crimes are limited to this, and the rest is fate.

I suddenly felt frightened, so I quickly turned my back, wrung my hands, and fled the same way, no matter where I went, I only knew that I must avoid dangerous temptations.The sun was scorching, and the smell of the woods was intoxicating, and these rekindled my feelings for savage life; I must flee, or submit.Edmee ordered me to get the hell out of her way with a domineering wave of her hand.At that moment, when there were other dangerous thoughts besides mine, which could neither come into my head nor hers, I went into the woods.I hadn't gone thirty paces when there was a shot from where I had left Edmee.I stopped, and for some reason my whole body turned cold with fright; in a hunting drive out of the woods, the sound of gunshots is not uncommon;I was walking back to find Edmee, at the risk of offending Edmee again, when I thought I heard a man moaning from the Garzo Tower.I lunged forward, then fell to my knees, as if overwhelmed by my passion.It took me some minutes to overcome my feeble emotions; my mind was so full of miserable images and sounds that I could not distinguish vision from reality; I was groping my way among the trees in broad daylight.Suddenly, I met the priest face to face; he was anxious and looking for Edmee.The knights rode to the front and waited for those who drove the beasts to pass.He couldn't help but panic when he didn't see his daughter among the hunters.The priest hurried into the woods, and soon found the tracks of our two horses, to see what had happened to us.He heard gunshots, but was not frightened.Seeing that I was pale, disheveled, and confused, lost my horse, and lost my gun (I dropped the gun in my hand where I was half unconscious, but I didn't expect to pick it up), he was as panicked as I was, and he didn't know the reason better than me. .

"Edmee!" he said to me, "where is Edmee?" I answered incoherently.He was astonished to see me in this state, and he believed in me some crime, as he afterwards confessed to me. "Unfortunate boy!" he said, shaking my arm vigorously, trying to restore my sanity, "be careful, be calm, I beg you! . . . " I didn't understand what he meant, but I pulled him toward the fateful spot.Ah, a sight never to be forgotten!Edmee lay stretched out on the ground, covered in blood.Her horse grazes a few paces away.Patience stood beside her with his arms folded, his face livid and in such a state of distress that he could not answer the priest's weeping and shouting inquiries.As for me, I cannot understand what happened.I thought my mind, already disturbed by passion, was completely benumbed.I sat on the ground next to Edmee, who had been shot twice in the chest.I looked into her unconscious, dimmed eyes.

"Get rid of that wretch!" Patience said to the priest, casting a contemptuous glance at me: "The wicked cannot be reformed." "Edmee! Edmee!" cried the abbe, throwing himself on the grass, and trying to staunch the bleeding from the wound with his handkerchief. "Death! death!" said Patience, "here is the murderer! That's what she said when she returned her holy soul to God; Patience will avenge her. It is very cruel; but must So! . . . It is God's will, since I happen to be here to learn the truth." "Terrible! Terrible!" cried the priest.

I heard the voice of the last sentence, smiled bewilderedly, and repeated it like an echo. Several hunters came running after hearing the sound.Edmee was carried away.I believe seeing her father standing and walking before me, but I'm not sure it's not some deceitful hallucination (I don't have any definite consciousness, these horrible moments are only a vague memory in my mind, as if doing I had a nightmare) and I should never have believed it had it not been for my assurance that the knight dismounted from his chariot unaided and moved with the tact and boldness of a young man.The next day he fell into a state of utter senility and torpor, and never rose from his seat again.

As for what happened to me?I have no idea.When I regained my senses, I found myself in another part of the woods, near a small waterfall, and I could not help listening to the rushing water with a sense of ease.Blalo lay at my feet, and its owner stood against a tree, watching me intently.The setting sun sent streaks of orange light between the slender branches of the young ash trees; the wildflowers seemed to smile at me, and the birds were singing melodiously, and it was one of the most beautiful times of the year. "What a beautiful evening!" I said to Marcus. "This place is as beautiful as the woods of America. Now, old friend, what do you do there? You should have woken me sooner; I've had some bad dreams."

Marcus came and knelt beside me; two lines of hot tears ran down his thin, sallow cheeks.There was an expression of indescribable pity, concern, kindness on his usually impassive face. "Poor master!" he said. "Delirious, out of the head, that's all. Great disaster! But loyalty is of no avail. Always with you, and die with you if necessary." His tears and words made me sad; it was the result of an instinct of sympathy combined with nervous weakness, for I could remember nothing.I threw myself into his arms and wept like him; he held me close to his chest with true fatherly love.I am fully aware of the sudden and unexpected disaster I have suffered; but I am afraid to know what it contains; I will never ask him.

He took my arm and led me through the woods.I was at his mercy like a child.Then I was so tired again that he had to sit me down again and rest for half an hour.At last he helped me up, and finally took me to Mopra Rock, when it was late.I don't know how I felt that night.Marcus told me that I had suffered from terrible delirium.He took it upon himself to send for the barber in the nearest village, and the barber bled me early the next morning, and after a while I regained my senses. But in my opinion, what a terrible disservice they have done me!dead!dead!dead!This is the only thing I can say.I just lay there moaning and tossing and turning.I want to go out, to Saint-Several.The poor sergeant threw himself at my feet and blocked the door with his body to prevent me from going.To keep me, he told me things I didn't understand at all.While unable to explain his behavior, I gave in to his expressions of concern and my own sense of exhaustion.In the midst of such a struggle, the blood vessel on the part of my exsanguination ruptured again; and before Marcus knew it, I returned to bed.I gradually fell into a deep swoon, and nearly died; and seeing my lips turn blue, and my cheeks purple, he boldly raised the covers from me, and found me in a pool of blood.

In fact, this is the luckiest thing for me.For several days I remained in a state of collapse, waking and sleeping indistinguishable.Thanks to this, I don't know anything, and I don't feel pain. One morning he managed to get me something to eat, and seeing my cares and uneasiness revived as my strength returned, he told me, with a joy as innocent as it was tender, that Edmee was not dead, They held out hope for resuscitating her.It came as a bolt from the blue to me, for I thought this dreadful encounter a hallucination of my delirium.I yelled and waved my arms in a frightening manner.Marcus knelt by my bed and begged me to calm down; he repeated the following words to me so many times that they sounded like nonsense words to me in a dream:

"You didn't do it on purpose; I know that well. No, you didn't do it on purpose. It was an accident. A gun went off in your hand." "Come on, what are you trying to say?" I yelled impatiently. "What gun? What went off and why me?" "Master, don't you know how she was hit?" I put my hand on my brow, as if trying to refresh my mind; and being unable to account for the mysterious incident which had deranged me, I thought myself mad, and kept silent, despondent, lest blurting out a word might irritate me. Find me incapacitated. In the end, I gradually concentrated my thoughts.To embolden me, I ordered some wine; after a few drops, all the scenes of that unfortunate day unfolded before my eyes, as if by magic.I even remember what Patience said immediately after the incident.The words seemed engraved in the part of the brain that preserved the sound, while the part that deeply understood the meaning was still asleep.A moment later than that I'm not sure.I wondered if the gun in my hand might have gone off when I left Edmee.I distinctly recollect that, an hour before, I had shot a cockscomb, because Edmee had wanted to admire all of its plumage.My gun was still in my hand when I heard the shot that struck her; it was only after a moment that I dropped it on the ground, so it could not have been the weapon that had dropped it.Besides, I was really too far away from Edmee at that time, and the bullet could not hit her, let alone the unpredictable fate.Finally, I never carried a cartridge that day, and it was impossible for my gun to be loaded without my knowing it, for I never took it out of the leather sling after I killed the cockscomb. So sure, I am not the cause of this tragic event, and I have to find an explanation for this appalling mishap.For me, things are not as complicated as others think.I think some clumsy hunter mistook Edmee's horse for a wild beast through the foliage.I don't want to accuse anyone of willful murder; it's just that I understand that I have been charged.I took the truth out of Marcus' mouth.He told me that the cavaliers, and all who took part in the hunt, ascribed the misfortune to an accident, to a gun which caused me to go grievously off fire, while my horse threw me on my back.It was almost unanimously believed that I had been thrown to the ground by a horse.In the few words Edmee was able to utter, she confirmed the supposition.Only one person—Patience—accused me; but he did so quietly, under the assurance of strict secrecy from his two friends, Marcus and the Abbe Aubert. "There is no need to tell you," added Marcus, "the abbe has remained absolutely silent and refuses to believe that you are guilty. As for me, I can swear to you forever..." "Shut up! Shut up!" I cried, "and don't tell me even that, as if anyone in the world would really believe it. But Edmee said strange things to Patience as she died; she was dead Now, it's no use trying to fool me. She's dead, and I'll never see her again." "She's not dead!" Marcus exclaimed. He swears at me and finally convinces me.I knew he was not a good liar, and his benevolent intentions would be exposed by his whole being.As for Edmee's words, he flatly refused to repeat them to me; and from this I understood that they were intolerable.So I struggled out of bed and mercilessly pushed away Marcus who tried to stop me.I had someone throw a saddle on Bohu's horse, and then he galloped away.I arrived at Château Saint-Severl like a ghost.I staggered all the way into the parlour, meeting no one but St. John.St. John gave a cry of surprise when he caught sight of me, and slipped away without answering my barrage of questions. The living room was empty.Edmee's trestle, buried under a green cloth which her hands would probably never lift again, seemed to me like a coffin under a veil.My uncle's big armchair is no longer in the fireplace corner; my portrait, painted in Philadelphia and sent during the American Revolution, has been taken from the wall.These are signs of death and damnation. I hastened out of this room, and ascended the stairs with the courage of an innocent, but disheartened.I went straight to Edmee's bedroom, knocked and turned the key to enter.Mademoiselle LeBlanc came up to me, screamed, and ran away with her face in her hands, as if she saw a beast of prey.Who is it that spreads terrible doubts about me?Could it be that the priest was not faithful enough to do this behind his back?I learned later that Edmee, though firm and generous in her sane moments, had loudly reproached me in her delirium. I approached her bed, maddened myself, not expecting that my unexpected presence would cost her life; I threw back the curtains of the bed with one hand, and gazed at Edmee.I have never seen a more astonishing beauty.Her big black eyes grew even bigger, and although expressionless, they shone with a strange light, like two diamonds.Her pale, taut cheeks, her lips as pale as her cheeks, gave a marble appearance to her beautiful head.She looked straight at me with no more passion than she would at a picture or a piece of furniture; turning her face slightly to the wall, she said with a mysterious smile: "This is the flower called 'Edme? Silvestris' flower." I knelt down, took her hand, and kissed it all over; I burst into tears, and she didn't notice.Her motionless, cold hand remained in mine like a sculpture of marble.