o her, to the expiation of my
sins, to rendering her happy after the tears I have drawn from her
eyes-when I am her only support in the world, her only friend, her only
protector! when I ought to follow her to the end of the world, to shelter
her with my body, to console her for having loved me, for having given
herself to me!

"Brigitte!" I cried, returning to her room, "wait an hour for me, and I
will return."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Wait for me," I replied, "do not set out without me. Remember the words
of Ruth: 'Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will
lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God; where thou
diest, will I die, and there will I be buried."'

I left her precipitately, and rushed out to find Mercanson. I was told
that he had gone out, and I entered his house to wait for him.

I sat in the corner of the room on a priest's chair before a dirty black
table. I was becoming impatient when I recalled my duel on account of my
first mistress.

"I received a wound from a bullet and am still a fool," I said to myself.
"What have I come to do here? This priest will not fight; if I seek a
quarrel with him, he will say that his priestly robes forbid, and he will
continue his vile gossip when I have gone. Moreover, for what can I hold
him responsible? What is it that has disturbed Brigitte? They say that
her reputation has been sullied, that I ill-treat her, and that she ought
not to submit to it. What stupidity! That concerns no one; there is
nothing to do but allow them to talk; in such a case, to notice an insult
is to give it importance.

"Is it possible to prevent provincials from talking about their
neighbors? Can any one prevent a gossip from maligning a woman who loves?
What measures can be taken to stop a public rumor? If they say that I
ill-treat her, it is for me--to prove the contrary by my conduct with
her, and not by violence. It would be as ridiculous to seek a quarrel
with Mercanson as to leave the country on account of gossip. No, we must
not leave the country; that would be a bad move; that would be to say to
all the world that there is truth in its idle rumors, and to give excuse
to the gossips. We must neither go away nor take any notice of such
things."

I returned to Brigitte. A half hour had passed, and I had changed my mind
three times. I dissuaded her from her plans; I told her what I had just
done and why I had not carried out my first