done, and
suffered, had sunk into shadowy vagueness; but his love for Isabelle had
undergone no change; it had neither diminished nor grown cold; it was as
passionate and all-absorbing as ever; it was his very life; yet rather
like an aspiration of the soul than a real passion, since with it all he
knew that the angelic being who was its object, and whom he worshipped
from afar, could never, never be his. The wheels of his chariot, which
for a brief space had turned aside into a new track, were back in the
old rut again, and realizing that there could be no further escape from
it possible for him, he gave way sullenly to a despairing, stolid sort
of resignation, that he had no heart to struggle against, but yielded to
it passively; blaming himself the while for having presumed to indulge
in a season of bright hopes and delicious dreams. Why the devil should
such an unlucky fellow as he had always been venture to aspire
to happiness? It was all foolishness, and sure to end in bitter
disappointment; but he had had his lesson now, and would be wiser for
the future.

He sat perfectly motionless for a long time, plunged in a sad
reverie--sunk in a species of torpor; but he roused himself at last, and
perceiving that his faithful old follower's eyes were fixed upon him,
full of timid questioning that he did not venture to put into words,
briefly related to him the principal incidents of his journey up to the
capital, and his short stay there. When he graphically described his two
duels with the Duke of Vallombreuse--the old man, filled with pride and
delight at the proficiency of his beloved pupil, could not restrain his
enthusiasm, and snatching up a stick gave vigorous illustrations of all
the most salient points of the encounters as the baron delineated them,
ending up with a wild flourish and a shout of triumph.

"Alas! my good Pierre," said he, with a sigh, when quiet was restored,
"you taught me how to use my sword only too well. My unfortunate victory
has been my ruin, and has sent me back, hopeless and bereaved, to this
poor old crumbling chateau of mine, where I am doomed to drag out
the weary remainder of my days in sorrow and misery. I am peculiarly
unhappy, in that my very triumphs have only made matters worse for
me--it would have been better far for me, and for all, if I had been
wounded, or even killed, in this last disastrous encounter, instead of
my rival and enemy, the young Duke of Vallombreuse."

"The d