CHAPTER XXII.

GUYONNE AND JOHN.

LOVE presents two distinct traits; either it springs up voluntarily, spontaneously; or it grows slowly, involuntarily. In the former case, it results most frequently from a predisposition of the individual who has received the germ from a ray of the physiognomy, or of the esprit of the individual who has transmitted it. In the second case, love derives its origin from an acquaintance between the subjective and the objective; it is the fruit of a sort of study, always of a thoughtful appreciation. It is sufficient to say, that one resembles those ephemeral flowers, resplendent in colors, saturated with perfumes in the morning, but withered and dry in the evening; and that the other appears like a frail plant, almost imperceptible at the hour of its birth, but which days and months develop gently, until its expansion is complete. Then in turn it sparkles with a thousand colors; its perfumes are

embalmed; and far from fading with a revolution of the sun, it preserves its freshness and its magnificence.

Oh, how good it is, how delightful that love which softly insinuates itself into our senses! How it teaches us to appreciate the pure and delicate! The principle of devotion, creator of self-denial, servant of harmony, torch of intelligence, source of ineffable felicities, it baptizes great actions, enlightens ignorance, polishes the manners, smoothes the inequalities of character, inspires the artist, civilizes the savage, disposes all nature to a holy embrace.

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Let us, then, bless the sentiment which attracts various beings towards a common pole, and while despising its vague caprices, inconstant as meteors, falsely decorated with the name of love, let us admire the great passions which have inflamed the hearts of geniuses of generations past and present. Yes, without love we could not have possessed those inimitable paintings of Raphael, those sublime poems of Tasso, those profound political dissertations of Machiaveli, and those sonnets of Petrarch, embroidered and pearled like the morning rose, and those thousands of other chefs d'œuvre, which are the glory and the happiness of us all. Yes, let us love well, and when we can love a being worthy of us by her qualities, when we are sure that we love her with all our power, with all our instincts, with all our will, uniting our destinies to hers, let us be attached to her as the stem is to the flower! But if she will not respond to our love without violating the divine laws

Such were in substance the thoughts of Viscount de Ganay during the first days subsequent to his interview with Guyonne, the fisherwoman

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Guyonne loved the equerry, and knew that her love was returned. She was certain that there was a veil over her origin; and her uneasiness was all the more painful from the inflictions she had previously endured.

However, she did not dare to speak; she feared, as much as she desired, the presence of her lover. It was not, therefore, without inexpressible emotion that she heard herself addressed:

“ "Yvon, will you accompany me?"

Guyonne trembled from head to foot, and replied by following the viscount.

They followed a winding path, along the shores of the lake. John walked in front. Now, he strided on without raising his head, and anon turning himself suddenly to cast a long look at his companion. This strange conduct gave a faithful transcript of the uncertainties to which the equerry was a prey. Although the young woman kept her head down, constantly she imitated, as if by intuition, the movements of her guide. She hastened her step, when he hastened, and halted when he halted.

After a quarter of an hour spent in this way, the viscount spoke:

"Guyonne," said he, in a voice so timid, that the instinct of the young woman, rather than her ear, heard her

name.

She approached him.

"I have," said the equerry, "important revelations to make to you!"

He glanced at Guyonne, who bowed, without ceasing to walk.

"These revelations I ought perhaps to have made the day that good Philip brought you back to the camp; but it was of so much importance to initiate you into the secret which they embody, the certainty of being heard only by God and yourself, was necessary. I had to wait until time allowed me to conduct you to a discreet place. That place is some two leagues from here. Before introducing you there, permit me, mademoiselle, to ask pardon for the sad condition into which circumstances have forced me to keep you ever since I became aware

"Oh, monseigneur," exclaimed she, with emotion, "rather pardon me; let me bless the generous and noble mas

"Stop!" interrupted he. "Between you and me, there is no other master than the Eternal."

Then, observing that the young woman regarded him as if interdicted, he added, rapidly:

"Come, Guyonne. Oh, come, quick."

They resumed their way without saying a word, and did not stop until they reached the sea-shore.

There, at the side of a cliff, nature had formed a grotto, which afforded an extensive view of the ocean, and of a part of the Isle of Sable. At the bottom of the grotto extended a bank, covered with moss.

"Come in," said the viscount, showing her the en

trance.

She wished, from deference, to let him take the lead; but he said, in a solemn tone:

"Will Mademoiselle la Comtesse de Pentoëk do me the honor

His gesture concluded the invitation.

Guyonne entered the grotto, and at the request of the nobleman, sat on the grassy bank.

The Viscount de Ganay took off his hat, took from it a sealed paper, put his knee on the ground, and presented the with these words: paper

"Noble demoiselle, Maria Antonetti Guyonne, Comtesse of Pentoëk, suffer that the humblest of your servants offer you a copy of your baptismal certificate."

Still more astonished by the act of the viscount, than by the sight of the seals which adorned the paper, Guyonne did not move.

"Take it," said the equerry, in a gentle voice; this paper contains the proof of the illustrious origin from which you have descended."

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Monseigneur," stammered Guyonne, "I don't under

girl; you no longer owe me the title of monseigneur. Before you, I am simply an equerry; and you, Demoiselle Guyonne, count among your ancestors, the most illustrious and the most valiant lords of Normandy and Brittany.