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Updated: May 26, 2025
Then Ulbach begged for a passage to some port from which he could return to Paris. A few words passed between the captain and Louis, and the request was peremptorily refused. The Frenchman begged hard, declaring that the island was a desolate place, and he should starve there. The men had come to beg some provisions, as they had not a morsel to eat.
With winter my second volume appeared, and Monsieur Louis Ulbach set to work again; but this time he found me merely "ingenious." It was a good deal more than I merited, and I would willingly have contented myself with this phrase.
Monsieur Louis Ulbach at first belonged to a triumvirate which pretended to stand above the mob of democratic writers; and of a truth Monsieur Maxime du Camp and Monsieur Laurent Pichat, his two leaders, had none of those smoking-café vulgarities which have procured so many subscribers to the "Siècle" newspaper.
Louis Ulbach, this very same Louis Ulbach, was employed by a newspaper where he was sure to please by insulting me, and the very first thing he did was to give me a kick, such a kick as twenty horses covered with sleigh-bells could not give. He called me "ignoramus," and wondered what "this fellow" meant by his literary drivelling.
The generals are asking me for commands, I am being asked to grant audiences, office-seekers are asking me for places. I reply: "I am nobody." I saw Captain Feval, husband of Fanny, the sister of Alice. * He was a prisoner of war, and was released on parole. * Wife of Charles Hugo. All the newspapers publish my "Appeal to the Germans." September 10. D'Alton-Shee and Louis Ulbach lunched with us.
The national affairs of His Highness had called him home, but he had apparently placed his steam-yacht in command of a Captain Mazagan; and this ruffian, attended by Ulbach, the detective, had followed the party to Egypt.
Take a few steps, and you come upon that fatal Rue Croulebarbe, where Ulbach stabbed the goat-girl of Ivry to the sound of thunder, as in the melodramas.
The person replied: "It is the Lark's meadow." And he added: "It was here that Ulbach killed the shepherdess of Ivry." But after the word "Lark" Marius heard nothing more. These sudden congealments in the state of revery, which a single word suffices to evoke, do occur. The entire thought is abruptly condensed around an idea, and it is no longer capable of perceiving anything else.
Monsieur Louis Ulbach celebrated it by publishing in his magazine, "La Revue de Paris," an article in my honor, in which, after the usual reserves, and after declaring war upon my doctrines, he vowed my prose to be "fascinating," and complained of being so bewitched as to believe, at times, that he was converted to the cause of the throne and of the altar.
I confess that I felt extremely embarrassed: those nice little words "fascinating" and "ingenious" stuck in my mind. Monsieur Louis Ulbach himself extricated me from my perplexity. I had insufficiently praised his last novel. He wrote a third article on my third work. Alas! the honeymoon had set.
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