e had regained the quiet of his own room ere de
Sigognac could compose himself sufficiently to set about the light task
imposed upon him by Isabelle. He was at once enchanted and cast down;
radiant with joy, and filled with sorrow; in a seventh heaven
of ecstasy, and in the depths of despair. He laughed and he wept
alternately, swayed by the most tumultuous and contradictory emotions.
The intense happiness of at last knowing himself beloved by his adored
Isabelle made him exultant and joyful, while the terrible thought that
she never would be his made his heart sink within him. Little by little,
however, he grew calmer, as his mind dwelt lovingly upon the picture
Isabelle had drawn of the Chateau de Sigognac restored to its ancient
splendour, and as he sat musing he had a wonderful vision of it--so
glowing and vivid that it was like reality. He saw before him the facade
of the chateau, with its large windows shining in the sunlight, and its
many weather-cocks, all freshly gilded, glistening against the bright
blue sky, whilst the columns of smoke rising from every chimney, so
long cold and unused, told of plenty and prosperity within, and his good
faithful Pierre, in a rich new suit of livery, stood between Miraut and
Beelzebub at the great entrance door awaiting him. He saw himself, in
sumptuous attire, proudly leading his fair Isabelle by the hand towards
the grand old home of his forefathers; his beautiful Isabelle, dressed
like a princess, wearing ornaments bearing a device which seemed to be
that of one of the greatest, most illustrious families of France, and
with a ducal coronet upon her shapely head. But with it all she did
not appear to be proud or haughty--she was just her own sweet, modest
self--and in the hand that was free she carried the little wild rose,
fresh as when it was first plucked, that he had given her, and from time
to time raised and pressed it tenderly to her lips as she inhaled its
fragrance; it seemed more precious to her than all the superb jewels
that she wore. As they approached the chateau a most stately and
majestic old man, whose breast was covered with orders, and whose face
seemed not entirely unfamiliar to de Sigognac, stepped forth from the
portico to meet and welcome them. But what greatly surprised him was
that a remarkably handsome young man, of most proud and lofty
bearing, accompanied the old prince, who closely resembled the Duke
of Vallombreuse, and who smilingly advanced and