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In Marsa's large drawing-rooms, where glass and silver sparkled upon the snowy cloth, servants in livery awaited the return of the wedding-party. In a moment there was an assault, General Vogotzine leading the column.
It seemed to him that they had the happy look of people who had reached the desired goal. Vogotzine, coughing nervously, kept close to the Prince and felt very ill at ease. Andras, on the contrary, found great difficulty in realizing that he was really among lunatics. "See," said Dr.
"Yes, yes; and speak to you. You see, you are the only one for whom " The Prince interrupted the General, who instantly became as mute as if he were in the presence of the Czar. "It is well. But what Doctor Fargeas asks of me will cause me intense suffering." Vogotzine did not open his lips. "See her again? He wishes to revive all my sorrow, then!" Vogotzine waited, motionless as if on parade.
Fargeas cast a keen glance at the girl, whose eyes, burning with inward fire, alone seemed to be living. "Madame," said the doctor, quietly, when the General had made a sign to his niece to listen to the stranger, "General Vogotzine has told me that you were suffering. I am a physician. Will you do me the honor and the kindness to answer my questions?"
As Marsa departed with Vogotzine in the carriage which had been waiting for them on the bank, she waved her hand to Zilah with a passionate gesture, implying an infinity of trouble, sadness, and love. The Prince then returned to his guests, and the boat, which Marsa watched through the window of the carriage, departed, bearing away the dream, as she had said to Andras.
She returned to France, which she had become attached to, and shut herself up in the villa of Maisons-Lafitte, letting old Vogotzine install himself there as a sort of Mentor, more obedient than a servant, and as silent as a statue; and this strange guardian, who had formerly fought side by side with Schamyl, and cut down the Circassians with the sang-froid of a butcher's boy wringing the neck of a fowl, and who now scarcely dared to open his lips, as if the entire police force of the Czar had its eye upon him; this old soldier, who once cared nothing for privations, now, provided he had his chocolate in the morning, his kummel with his coffee at breakfast, and a bottle of brandy on the table all day left Marsa free to think, act, come and go as she pleased.
"Oh, insane, I tell you! absolutely insane! mad as a March hare! Two days ago, you see " "Well, what? two days ago?" "Because, two days ago! "Well, what? What is it? Speak, Vogotzine!" "The despatch," stammered the General. "What despatch?" "The des despatch from Florence." "She has received a despatch from Florence?"
Yes, yes, that is your affair, and I don't ask any questions. Only only you would do well to come " "Why?" interrupted Andras, turning quickly to Vogotzine. "Ah! why? Because!" said the General, trying to give to his heavy face an expression of shrewd, dignified gravity. "What has happened?" asked the Prince. "Is she suffering again? Ill?"
If he had been sincere with himself, he would have confessed that he was impelled by his ever-living, ever-present love toward everything which would recall Marsa to him, and that a violent, almost superhuman effort was necessary not to yield to the temptation. About a week after the Prince's return to Paris, his valet appeared one day with the card of General Vogotzine.
She saw Andras depart with a mournful sadness, and a sudden longing to have him stay to protect her, to defend her, to be there if Michel should come. It was already growing dark when they reached home. Marsa ate but little at dinner, and left Vogotzine alone to finish his wine. Later, the General came, as usual, to bid his niece goodnight. He found Marsa lying upon the divan in the little salon.
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