I responded with an inclination of the head, and the Abbé retired. I
opened my missal and commenced reading some prayers, but the letters
became confused and blurred under my eyes, the thread of the ideas
entangled itself hopelessly in my brain, and the volume at last fell
from my hands without my being aware of it. To leave to-morrow without having been able to see her again, to add yet
another barrier to the many already interposed between us, to lose
for ever all hope of being able to meet her, except, indeed, through a
miracle! Even to write to her, alas! would be impossible, for by whom
could I dispatch my letter? With my sacred character of priest, to whom
could I dare unbosom myself, in whom could I confide? I became a prey to
the bitterest anxiety. Then suddenly recurred to me the words of the Abbé Sérapion regarding
the artifices of the devil; and the strange character of the adventure,
the supernatural beauty of Clarimonde, the phosphoric light of her eyes,
the burning imprint of her hand, the agony into which she had thrown
me, the sudden change wrought within me when all my piety vanished in a
single instant--these and other things clearly testified to the work
of the Evil One, and perhaps that satiny hand was but the glove which
concealed his claws. Filled with terror at these fancies, I again picked
up the missal which had slipped from my knees and fallen upon the floor,
and once more gave myself up to prayer. Next morning Sérapion came to take me away. Two mules freighted with
our miserable valises awaited us at the gate. He mounted one, and I the
other as well as I knew how. As we passed along the streets of the city, I gazed attentively at all
the windows and balconies in the hope of seeing Clarimonde, but it was
yet early in the morning, and the city had hardly opened its eyes. Mine
sought to penetrate the blinds and window-curtains of all the palaces
before which we were passing. Sérapion doubtless attributed this
curiosity to my admiration of the architecture, for he slackened the
pace of his animal in order to give me time to look around me. At last
we passed the city gates and commenced to mount the hill beyond. When
we arrived at its summit I turned to take a last look at the place where
Clarimonde dwelt. The shadow of a great cloud hung over all the city;
the contrasting colours of its blue and red roofs were lost in the
uniform half-tint, through which here and there floated upward, like
white flakes of foam, the smoke of freshly kindled fires. By a
singular optical effect one edifice, which surpassed in height all the
neighbouring buildings that were still dimly veiled by the vapours,
towered up, fair and lustrous with the gilding of a solitary beam of
sunlight--although actually more than a league away it seemed
quite near. The smallest details of its architecture were plainly
distinguishable--the turrets, the platforms, the window-casements, and
even the swallow-tailed weather-vanes. 'What is that palace I see over there, all lighted up by the sun?' I
asked Sérapion. He shaded his eyes with his hand, and having looked in
the direction indicated, replied: 'It is the ancient palace which the
Prince Concini has given to the courtesan Clarimonde. Awful things are
done there!' At that instant, I know not yet whether it was a reality or an illusion,
I fancied I saw gliding along the terrace a shapely white figure,
which gleamed for a moment in passing and as quickly vanished. It was
Clarimonde. Oh, did she know that at that very hour, all feverish and restless--from
the height of the rugged road which separated me from her, and which,
alas! I could never more descend--I was directing my eyes upon the
palace where she dwelt, and which a mocking beam of sunlight seemed to
bring nigh to me, as though inviting me to enter therein as its lord? Undoubtedly she must have known it, for her soul was too sympathetically
united with mine not to have felt its least emotional thrill, and that
subtle sympathy it must have been which prompted her to climb--although
clad only in her nightdress--to the summit of the terrace, amid the icy
dews of the morning. The shadow gained the palace, and the scene became to the eye only
a motionless ocean of roofs and gables, amid which one mountainous
undulation was distinctly visible. Sérapion urged his mule forward, my
own at once followed at the same gait, and a sharp angle in the road at
last hid the city of S------ for ever from my eyes, as I was destined
never to return thither. At the close of a weary three-days' journey
through dismal country fields, we caught sight of the cock upon the
steeple of the church which I was to take charge of, peeping above
the trees, and after having followed some winding roads fringed with
thatched cottages and little gardens, we found ourselves in front of the
façade, which certainly possessed few features of magnificence. A porch
ornamented with some mouldings, and two or three pillars rudely hewn
from sandstone; a tiled roof with counterforts of the same sandstone as
the pillars--that was all. To the left lay the cemetery, overgrown with
high weeds, and having a great iron cross rising up in its centre; to
the right stood the presbytery under the shadow of the church. It was a
house of the most extreme simplicity and frigid cleanliness. We entered
the enclosure. A few chickens were picking up some oats scattered upon
the ground; accustomed, seemingly, to the black habit of ecclesiastics,
they showed no fear of our presence and scarcely troubled themselves to
get out of our way. A hoarse, wheezy barking fell upon our ears, and we
saw an aged dog running toward us. It was my predecessor's dog. He had dull bleared eyes, grizzled hair,
and every mark of the greatest age to which a dog can possibly attain. I patted him gently, and he proceeded at once to march along beside me
with an air of satisfaction unspeakable. A very old woman, who had been
the housekeeper of the former curé, also came to meet us, and after
having invited me into a little back parlour, asked whether I intended
to retain her. I replied that I would take care of her, and the dog, and
the chickens, and all the furniture her master had bequeathed her at
his death. At this she became fairly transported with joy, and the
Abbé Sérapion at once paid her the price which she asked for her little
property. As soon as my installation was over, the Abbé Sérapion returned to the
seminary. I was, therefore, left alone, with no one but myself to look
to for aid or counsel. The thought of Clarimonde again began to haunt
me, and in spite of all my endeavours to banish it, I always found it
present in my meditations.