"Gentlemen, I can perfectly well understand that my conduct appears to you strange. You have a right to an explanation from me, and I am most desirous to give it to you. It was, indeed, for that purpose that I invited you to the last supper we shall enjoy together. The hour for my departure has struck—the chaise is waiting. Tomorrow I shall be far from Paris, and within a week I shall have left France never to return. Listen to me."
The guests made a marked movement as they gazed on the count.
"Do not be impatient, gentlemen," he said; "the story I have to tell you is not long, for it is my own. In two words, here it is:—
"I am completely ruined. I have only a small sum of money left, on which I should starve in Paris, and end in a month by blowing out my brains—a gloomy perspective which possesses no attractions for me, I assure you. On the other hand, I have such a fatal skill with arms, that, without any fault of my own, I enjoy a reputation as a duellist, which weighs on me fearfully, especially since my deplorable affair with that poor Viscount de Morsens, whom I was obliged to kill against my will, in order to close his mouth and put a stop to his calumnies. In short, for the reasons I have had the honour of imparting to you, and an infinity of others it is needless for you to know, and which I am convinced would interest you very slightly, France has become odious to me to such a degree that I am most anxious to quit it. So now a parting glass of champagne, and good-by to all."
"A moment," remarked the guest who had already spoken. "You have not told us, count, to what country you intend to proceed."
"Can't you guess? To America. I am allowed to possess a certain amount of courage and intelligence, and therefore am going to a country where, if I may believe all I hear, those two qualities are sufficient to make the fortune of their possessor. Have you any more questions to ask me, baron?" he added, turning to his questioner.
The latter, ere replying, remained for some moments plunged in serious reflections; at length he raised his head, and fixed a cold and searching glance on the count.
"You really mean to go, my friend?" he said quite seriously. "You swear it on your honour?"
"Yes, on my honour."
"And you are really resolved to make for yourself, in America, a position at the least equal to that you held here?"
"Yes," he said sharply, "by all means possible."
"That is good. In your turn listen to me, count, and if you will profit by what I am about to reveal to you, you may perhaps, by the help of Heaven, succeed in accomplishing the wild projects you have formed."
All the guests drew round curiously; the count himself felt interested in spite of himself.
The Baron de Spurtzheim was a man of about five-and-forty. His bronzed complexion, his marked features, and the strange expression of his eye gave him a peculiar aspect, which escaped the notice of the vulgar herd, and caused him to be regarded as a really remarkable man by all intelligent persons.
The only thing known about the baron was his colossal fortune, which he spent royally. As for his antecedents, everyone was ignorant of them, although he was received in the first society. It was merely remarked vaguely that he had been a great traveller, and had resided for several years in America; but nothing was more uncertain than these rumours, and they would not have been sufficient to open the salons of the noble suburb to him, had not the Austrian ambassador, without his knowledge, served as his guarantee most warmly in several delicate circumstances.
The baron was more intimately connected with the count than with his other companions. He seemed to feel a certain degree of interest in him; and several times, guessing his friend's embarrassed circumstances, he had delicately offered him his assistance. The Count de Lhorailles, though too proud to accept these offers, felt equally grateful to the baron, and had allowed him to assume a certain influence over him, without suspecting it.
"Speak, but be brief, my dear baron," the count said. "You know that the chaise is waiting for me."
Without replying, the baron rang the bell. The waiter came in.
"Dismiss the postilion, and tell him to return at five o'clock. You can go."
The waiter bowed and went out.
The count, more and more amazed at his friend's strange conduct, did not make the least observation. However, he poured out a glass of champagne, which he emptied at a draught, crossed his arms, leant back in his chair, and waited.
"And now, gentlemen," the baron said in his sarcastic and incisive voice, "as our friend De Lhorailles has told us his history, and we are becoming confidential, why should I not tell you mine? The weather is fearful—it is raining torrents. Here we are, comfortably tiled in: we have champagne and regalias—two excellent things when not abused. What have we better to do? 'Nothing,' I hear you say. Listen to me, then, for I believe what I have to tell you will interest you the more, because some among you will not be vexed to know the whole truth about me."
The majority of the guests burst into a laugh at this remark. When their hilarity was calmed the baron began:—
"As for the first part of my story, I shall imitate the count's brevity. In the present age gentlemen find themselves so naturally beyond the pale of the law through the prejudices of blood and education, that they all are fated to pass through a rough apprenticeship to life, by devouring in a few years, they know not how, the paternal fortune. This happened to me, gentlemen, as to yourselves. My ancestors in the middle ages were, to a certain extent, freebooters. True blood always shows itself. When my last resources were nearly exhausted, my instincts were aroused, and my eyes fixed on America. In less than ten years I amassed there the colossal fortune which I now have the distinguished honour, not of dissipating—the lesson was too rude, and I profited by it—but of spending in your honourable company, while careful to keep my capital intact."
"But," the count exclaimed impatiently, "how did you amass this colossal fortune, as you yourself term it?"
"About a million and a half," the baron coolly remarked.
A shudder of covetousness ran through the whole party.
"A colossal fortune indeed," the count continued; "but, I repeat, how did you acquire it?"
"If I had not intended to reveal it to you, my dear fellow, you may be sure I would not have abused your patience by making you listen to the trivialities you have just heard."
"We are listening," the guests shouted.
The baron coolly looked at them all.
"In the first place let us drink a glass of champagne to our friend's success," he said in a sarcastic tone.
The glasses were filled and emptied again in a twinkling, so great was the curiosity of the auditors. After putting down his glass before him the baron lighted a regalia, and, turning to the count, said to him—
"I am now addressing myself more particularly to you, my friend. You are young, enterprising, gifted with an iron constitution and an energetic will. I am convinced, that if death does not thwart your plans, you will succeed, whatever may be the enterprise you undertake, or the objects you propose to yourself. In the life you are about to begin, the principal cause of success, I may say almost the only one, is a thorough knowledge of the ground on which you are about to manoeuvre, and the society you propose entering. If, on my entrance upon that adventurous life, I had possessed the good fortune of meeting a friend willing to initiate me into the mysteries of my new existence, my fortune would have been made five years earlier. What no one did for me I am willing to do for you. Perhaps, at a later date you will be grateful for the information I have given you, and which will serve as your guide in the inextricable maze you are about to enter. In the first place, lay down this principle: the people among whom you are about going to