THE FRENCH CONVULSIVE^. 197 



" She drew out a little album, bound in morocco, with steel corners, and 

 without replying to what I had uttered, said, ' I collect on behalf of the 

 Foundling Institution ; how much will you give me ?' ' Nothing.' ' Do, I 

 beg of you, for the love of me. At the last collection I had one hundred 



and twenty francs more than Mademoiselle de . I shall be miserable if 



she surpasses me to-day/ ' Do you know what a foundling is ?' exclaimed 

 I with vehemence. ' Not yet/ replied she. ' Go and learn it then, and after 

 you have passed through the hospital miserable, faded, trembling, covered 

 with shame, come hither, call my servant, speak to him of Chariot, and I 

 will give you alms,' " 



Some time after, yielding to an accidental flow of spirits, he re- 

 solves to enjoy one day of happiness to give himself up to the illu- 

 sions of his imagination. Insensibly he is led to direct his steps upon 

 Vauvres, and finds himself in the garden of the tavern of the Bon 

 Lapin. While recalling to mind the joyous hours he had passed 

 beneath its arbours, he perceived at the further end of the garden a 

 fine lady, richly dressed. 



" She was seated opposite a handsome young man, who seemed to speak 

 to her with warmth, while she listened with anger or disdain. The 

 attitude of this woman attracted my attention, the elegance of her form 

 made me anxious to see her face. I know not what vague presentiment it 

 was that told me I should recognize her, but I looked in vain ; she did not 

 turn her head. At the same moment, an infirm old man, led by a female 

 equally advanced in years, entered the garden, and begged an alms. There 

 was nothing unbecoming in his tone, nothing plaintive in his voice. I pitied 

 him. After me, he addressed himself to the fine lady. She repulsed him 

 rudely, and he was on the point of departing, when, having examined her 

 more closely, ' Wife,' said he to his companion, ' how very like our daughter 

 that lady is/ The poor woman heaved a deep sigh at a glance she had 

 recognized her child. The old man would have embraced her, would have 

 pardoned her, but she turned away with disgust. ' In the name of thy 

 grey-haired sire, I conjure you, my child, to acknowledge your parents, who 

 have so long bewailed your loss !' and she averted her head. ' In the name 

 of heaven,' exclaimed the mother, ' recognize us, for we forgive you !' Si- 

 lent still. ' In the name of Chariot,' exclaimed I, ' turn your eyes upon 

 your aged father, on his knees before you !' The old couple stretched forth 

 their arms, but at the name of Chariot she arose, and with averted head left 

 the garden, followed by the young man, whose amazement was visible in his 

 countenance." 



But aw'ful retribution is at hand Henriette is fast approaching the 

 rapids, which are to hurl her down to the lowest deeps of degradation, 

 misery, and crime. After a quick transition from her high and 

 palmy state of splendour and opulence, to the loathsomeness of the 

 hospital, and from the hospital to the lowest haunts of infamy, she is 

 plunged into a dungeon for murder. He feels a kind of infernal joy 

 at finding that by this crime she is his entirely his, until she shall be 

 delivered over to the executioner, and he resolves not to stop until he 

 shall have placed her beneath a tomb. He obtains admission to the 

 prison, where, through an aperture in her dungeon, he watches whole 

 days the demeanour of the captive, and studies her slightest motion. 

 She proves enceinte, and is removed to the Bourbe. There he visits 

 her, after she has become a mother. 

 . " The word mother carries with it something to be respected, even at the 



