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M. Langis at first energetically declined accepting this invitation; Antoinette insisted: he ended by bowing in sign of obedience. Youth has a taste for suffering.
"Well! yes, madame, that is it," replied M. Langis; "and you see before you the most unhappy of men. Why is your pond dry? I want to fling myself into it head foremost." Mme. de Lorcy laid down her embroidery, and crossed her arms. "So you have returned?" said she. "Would to God I never had gone there! It is a land where poison is sold, and I have drunk of it." "Don't abuse metaphors.
You can take it or leave it." "I will take it," replied M. Langis. "Since we agree," continued Samuel, "I possess still other articles which might suit you." "Why, do you think of selling me your clothing?" "Let us come to an understanding. I have other articles of the same lot." And he brought from a closet the red hood, which he spread out on the table.
M. Langis has been my friend from childhood up, and I have forewarned him that it is his duty to love the people whom I love." "I mistrust these childhood's friends," said he, growing excited. "I should not wonder if this youth was in love with you." "Ah, indeed! then you should have heard him but now.
"Bah! be consoled," replied M. Langis; "you will find another opportunity; a genius of such lofty flights as yours never is at a loss. You have been unfortunate; some day Fortune will compensate you for the wrongs she has done you, and the world will accord justice to your fine talents." Speaking thus, he laid on the table twenty-five notes of a thousand francs each.
She closed her eyes, and saw a blank abyss open before her, in which her life was ingulfed, whirled about, like the leaf of a tree in a whirlpool. M. Langis drew near her, and, lightly slapping the palms of her hands, said, "What is the matter?" She roused herself, made an effort to lift her head, and let it sink again.
"But it is time that this comedy came to an end." He threw himself on the grass at her feet, and then sprang up, and tried to clasp her in his arms. "Camille! Camille!" she cried, "save me from this man." Langis darted out after Brohl, and the Jew took to his heels.
She had disputes on this subject with M. Langis, who persisted in maintaining that M. Larinski was a great comedian, but that this, strictly considered, did not prevent his being a true count; in the course of his travels he had met specimens of them who cheated at cards and pocketed affronts. Mme. de Lorcy, in return, accused him of being a simpleton.
Langis would have followed him as gladly as a hound follows a fox, but he saw Antoinette's strength had given way, and running up to her, he caught her in his arms as she reeled, and tenderly carried her into the house. That evening, Count Abel Larinski disappeared from the world.
It seemed to me, so far as I noticed, that he was inclined to stoop, and that his head was very badly poised." "What do you say?" cried Mlle. Moiseney, greatly scandalized. "How came you to think his head badly poised?" "There there! Don't let us quarrel about it; I am ready to retract. Good-night, mademoiselle. Apropos, did you know that M. Camille Langis had returned to Paris?"
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