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Updated: May 14, 2025
Moreover, she was very minutely informed of the alternatives of the campaign undertaken by M. de Tregars. More enthusiastic than ever about his pupil, the Signor Gismondo Pulei never tired of singing his praise, and with such pomp of expression, and so curious an exuberance of gesticulation, that Mme.
When she thought that Marius de Tregars was about to leave Paris to become a soldier, to fight, to die perhaps, she felt her head whirl; she saw nothing around her but despair and chaos. And, the more she thought, the more certain she felt that Marius could not have trusted solely to the chance gossip of the Signor Pulei to communicate to her his determination.
"How much he would grieve," thought she, "if he knew of what persecution I am the object!" And very careful was she not to allow the Signor Gismondo Pulei to suspect any thing of it, affecting, on the contrary, in his presence, the most cheerful serenity. And yet she was a prey to the most cruel anxiety, since she observed a new and most incredible transformation in her father.
At the time when your house was closed to me, after seeking for a long time some means of hearing from your sister, I discovered at last that she had for her music-teacher an old Italian, the Signor Gismondo Pulei. I applied to him for lessons, and became his pupil. But, in the beginning, he kept looking at me with singular persistence.
Gilberte took pity on him; and, kindly interrupting him, she herself told her story, and that of Marius. She told the pledge they had exchanged, how they had seen each other twice, and how they constantly heard of each other through the very innocent and very unconscious Signor Gismondo Pulei. Maxence and Mme. Favoral were dumbfounded.
And she wished the morrow to come, that she might announce her happiness to the very involuntary and very unconscious accomplice of Marius, the worthy Maestro Gismondo Pulei. The next day M. Favoral seemed to have resigned himself to the failure of his projects; and, the following Saturday, he told as a pleasant joke, how Mlle. Gilberte had carried the day, and had managed to dismiss her lover.
At evening, when the fierce sun went down behind the great banian tree that nearly hid Mount Pulei, the kateeb would sound the call to prayer on a hollow log that hung up before the little palm-thatched mosque. Then Busuk and her playmates would fall on their faces, while the holy man sang in a soft, monotonous voice the promises of the Koran, the men of the kampong answering.
As the sun sank behind the misty dome of Mount Pulei we embarked once more at the broad palace steps in the royal barges, amid the booming of guns and the strains of the international "God Save the Queen," "My Country, 'tis of Thee," and bared our heads to the royal standard of Johore that floated so proudly above the palace, thankful for this short peep into the heart of an Oriental court.
On the 5th, when the Signor Gismondo Pulei presented himself at Rue St. Gilles, his face bore such an expression of anguish, that Mlle. Gilberte could not help asking what was the matter. He rose on that question, and, threatening heaven with his clinched fist, "Implacable fate does not tire to persecute me," he replied.
The bell rang: it was her old professor, the Signor Gismondo Pulei, who came to give her his daily lesson. The liveliest joy beamed upon his face, more shriveled than an apple at Easter; and the most magnificent anticipations sparkled in his eyes. "I knew it, signora!" he exclaimed from the threshold: "I knew that angels bring good luck.
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