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Updated: June 7, 2025
"You have perjured yourself to your husband and to God!" said Bergenheim slowly. "Do you know what kind of woman you are?" Clemence remained for some time powerless to reply; her respiration was so painful that each breath seemed like suffocation; her head, after rolling about on the back of the chair, fell upon her breast, like a blade of grass broken and bruised by the rain.
Do you know, we can not find my great-grandmother Cantelescar's coat-of-arms? But, my darling, it seems to me that you are not very kindly disposed toward your cousin Gerfaut." Madame de Bergenheim, when these remarks and various others of a similar nature came up, tried to change the conversation, but she felt an antipathy for her husband bordering upon aversion.
"It is that poor devil of a Lambernier, is it not, Bergenheim?" "It is true!" stammered Christian, who, in spite of his boldness, could not help turning away his eyes. "The carpenter! drowned! this is frightful! I never should have recognized him how disfigured he is!" exclaimed the others, as they pressed forward to gaze at this horrible spectacle.
"It is that poor devil of a Lambernier, is it not, Bergenheim?" "It is true!" stammered Christian, who, in spite of his boldness, could not help turning away his eyes. "The carpenter! drowned! this is frightful! I never should have recognized him how disfigured he is!" exclaimed the others, as they pressed forward to gaze at this horrible spectacle.
He let go of it suddenly, and dropped farther and farther down uttering a last terrible shriek of despair; he rolled over twice again-and then fell into the torrent below, that swallowed him up like a mass already deprived of life. Guests were seated that evening around the oval table in the dining-room of the castle of Bergenheim. According to custom, the ladies were not present at this repast.
"Did you not hear something just now?" asked Madame de Bergenheim, as she gave a sudden start and listened eagerly. "Nothing. What did you think it was?" "I feared it might be Justine who had taken it into her head to come down stairs; she is so tiresome in her attentions "
"You will not die, Christian oh! tell me that you will not die and that you will forgive me." "Your lover has killed me," said Bergenheim, slowly; "I have a bullet in my chest I feel it I am the one who is to die in less than an hour I shall be a corpse don't you see how hard it is already for me to talk?" In reality his voice was becoming weaker and weaker.
It was a natural grotto formed by water, but which earth, in its turn, had undertaken to embellish. An enormous willow had taken root in a few inches of soil in a fissure of the rock, and its drooping branches fell into the stream, which drifted them along without being able to detach them. Madame de Bergenheim was seated at the front of this grotto, upon a seat formed by the base of the rock.
In order to obey this unwritten law, Madame de Bergenheim, after a slight interruption, seated herself at the piano to accompany three or four young girls who were each to sing in turn the songs that they had been drilled on for six months.
"Certainly, I boast of detesting the bourgeois; I am celebrated for that; but I should much prefer to die in a worsted nightcap, flannel underwear, and cotton night-shirt, than to have Bergenheim assist me, too brusquely, in this little operation. He is such an out-and-out Goliath! Just look at him!"
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