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Voici, Monsieur, ce que le T. R. P. General, m'ecrit de sa maison de Rome le 10 Juin: 'Je desire bien que M. Hope sache combien j'ai ete console a la bonne nouvelle. Jamais je ne l'avois oublie il m'avoit inspire tant d'interet!
In June, with the hope that absence would loosen the bonds of affection which united him and Madame de Berny, and with an arriere pensee about another charming personality whom he might meet on his travels, Balzac left Paris for six months, and began his tour by paying a visit to M. de Margonne at Sache.
The comedy, "Wie man sich die Sache deutet," is charming, for I saw it no, not saw it, but read it, for it has not yet been performed; besides, I have been only once in the theatre, having no leisure to go, the evening being the time I like best to work.
Beautiful was that night beneath her windows, amid the murmur of waters rippling through the sluices, broken only by a voice that told the hours from the clock-tower of Sache.
As we walked from the church to Frapesle by the woods of Sache, where the light, filtering down through the foliage, made those pretty patterns on the path which seem like painted silk, such sensations of pride, such ideas took possession of me that my heart beat violently. "What is the matter?" she said, after walking a little way in a silence I dared not break. "Your heart beats too fast "
He led an even more cloistered life here than at Sache, interrupting all correspondence excepting business letters to his mother. For he was bent upon gaining two things, money and fame. Meanwhile, Mme. Carraud was proud of her guest.
But Balzac was not staying at Sache for the purpose of playing checkers, and in the same notice M. Salmon tells of his habits of work, on the strength of an account given by M. de Margonne: "He had a big alarm-clock," he writes, "for he slept very well and very soundly, and he set the alarm for two o'clock in the morning.
Tears overcome me as I write these lines, tears of tenderness and despair, for I foresee the future, and I shall need that devoted mother on the day of my triumph! But when will that day come?" Towards the middle of July he left Sache in order to go to Angouleme, to visit Mme. Carraud, whose husband had been appointed Inspector of the Powder Works, just outside the town.
We crossed the valley of the Indre to the little cemetery of Sache a poor village graveyard, placed behind the church on the slope of the hill, where with true humility she had asked to be buried beneath a simple cross of black wood, "like a poor country-woman," she said. When I saw, from the centre of the valley, the village church and the place of the graveyard a convulsive shudder seized me.
She sat down at the table, opened the book, and turned the leaves. "Oh well, I daresay I can, if you wish it, and an opportunity occurs if you're with me some day when I meet her. Now shall we go on with the JUNGFRAU? We were beginning the third act, I think. Here it is: Wir waren Herzensbruder, Waffenfreunde, Fur eine Sache hoben wir den Arm!"
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