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Updated: May 10, 2025
Then he led him on, and it was not until the cold air struck them that they noticed they had left their hats behind. "N'importe!" muttered Pomerantseff. "It would be dangerous to return"; and hurrying the Abbé into the carriage which awaited them, he bade the coachman speed them away "au grand galop!"
"Remember your promise," said Pomerantseff, as he carefully covered his friend's eyes with the pocket handkerchief, and effectually precluded the possibility of his seeing anything until he should remove the bandage. After this nothing was said. The Abbé heard the Prince pull up the blind, open the window, and tell the coachman to drive faster.
At length, after a drive of perhaps half an hour, but which seemed to the Abbé double that time, Pomerantseff murmured in a low tone, and with a profound sigh which sounded almost like a sob, "Here we are," and at that moment the Abbé felt the carriage was turning, and heard the horses' hoofs clatter on what he imagined to be the stones of a courtyard. The carriage stopped.
Pomerantseff opened the door himself, and assisted the blindfolded priest to alight. "There are five steps," he said as he held the Abbé by the arm. "Take care." The Abbé stumbled up the five steps.
"They are dreams waiting to be fitted in." "Bravo!" cried the Abbé. "That is really a good idea! If I had only the pen of Charles Nodier, what a charming feuilleton I could write about all this!" Pomerantseff laid his hand affectionately on the Duke's shoulder. "Mon cher ami," he said with a grave smile, "believe me, you are wholly at fault in your speculations.
The Abbé felt almost faint; for apart from the wildness of the words thus abruptly and unexpectedly addressed to him, the hand of the Prince which lay upon his own, as if to keep him still, seemed to be pouring fire and madness into him. He tried to withdraw it, but the other grasped the fingers tight. "On one condition," repeated Pomerantseff in a lower tone.
That sentiment has been too long extinguished in me to awaken to a corporeal expression." "What made you think it was love?" asked Pomerantseff. "It was a white dove with something I cannot express that was human about it. I felt ineffably happy while it was with me." "Your theory is false, I tell you," said the Russian. "What you saw probably was love."
It is my duty to insure your eternal felicity when the tedium of delirium tremens and the divorce court is all over, and that is really all one man can do." "By the way, talking of spiritual matters," interrupted the Duke, "Pomerantseff has been telling me his experience with a man you detest, Abbé." "I detest no man." "I can only judge from your own words," rejoined Frontignan.
"I tell you what, mon ami," said Pomerantseff rising, as he saw the Abbé making preparations to depart. "I am glad that my appetite, corporealized and separated from my discretion, is not in your wine cellar. Your Johannisberg would suffer!" "Prince, you must drive me home," said the Abbé. "I cannot get into a draughty cab at this hour of the night." "Très volontiers! Good night, Duke.
Once in the next room, the Abbé and Pomerantseff paused for an instant to recover breath, for the swiftness of their flight had exhausted them, worn out as they both were mentally and physically; but during this brief interval the Prince, who appeared to be retaining his presence of mind by a merely mechanical effort, carefully replaced over his friend's eyes the bandage which the Abbé held tightly grasped in his hand.
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