THE APPOINTMENT.
The morning after--Dupont's mission to Prince Djalma, the latter was walking with hasty and impatient step up and down the little saloon, which communicated, as we already know, with the greenhouse from which Adrienne had entered when she first appeared to him.In remembrance of that day, he had chosen to dress himself as on the occasion in question;
he wore the same tunic of white cashmere, with a cherry-colored turban, to match with his girdle; his gaiters, of scarlet velvet, embroidered with silver, displayed the fine form of his leg, and terminated in small white morocco slippers, with red heels.Happiness has so instantaneous, and, as it were, material an influence upon young, lively, and ardent natures, that Djalma, dejected and despairing only the day before, was no longer like the same person.The pale, transparent gold of his complexion was no longer tarnished by a livid hue.His large eyes, of late obscured like black diamonds by a humid vapor, now shone with mild radiance in the centre of their pearly setting; his lips, long pale, had recovered their natural color, which was rich and soft as the fine purple flowers of his country.
Ever and anon, pausing in his hasty walk, he stopped suddenly, and drew from his bosom a little piece of paper, carefully folded, which he pressed to his lips with enthusiastic ardor.Then, unable to restrain the expression of his full happiness, he uttered a full and sonorous cry of joy, and with a bound he was in front of the plate-glass which separated the saloon from the conservatory, in which he had first seen Mdlle.de Cardoville.By a singular power of remembrance, or marvellous hallucination of a mind possessed by a fixed idea, Djalma had often seen, or fancied he saw, the adored semblance of Adrienne appear to him through this sheet of crystal.The illusion had been so complete, that, with his eyes ardently fixed on the vision he invoked, he had been able, with the aid of a pencil dipped in carmine, to trace with astonishing exactness, the profile of the ideal countenance which the delirium of his imagination had presented to his view.[42] It was before these delicate lines of bright carmine that Djalma now stood in deep contemplation, after perusing and reperusing, and raising twenty times to his lips, the letter he had received the night before from the hands of Dupont.Djalma was not alone.Faringhea watched all the movements of the prince, with a subtle, attentive, and gloomy aspect.Standing respectfully in a corner of the saloon, the half-caste appeared to be occupied in unfolding and spreading out Djalma's sash, light, silky Indian web, the brown ground of which was almost entirely concealed by the exquisite gold and silver embroidery with which it was overlaid.
The countenance of the half-caste wore a dark and gloomy expression.He could not deceive himself.The letter from Mdlle.de Cardoville, delivered by Dupont to Djalma, must have been the cause of the delight he now experienced, for, without doubt, he knew himself beloved.In that event, his obstinate silence towards Faringhea, ever since the latter had entered the saloon, greatly alarmed the half-caste, who could not tell what interpretation to put upon it.The night before, after parting with Dupont, he had hastened, in a state of anxiety easily understood, to look for the prince, in the hope of ascertaining the effect produced by Mdlle.
de Cardoville's letter.But he found the parlor door closed, and when he knocked, he received no answer from within.Then, though the night was far advanced, he had dispatched a note to Rodin, in which he informed him of Dupont's visit and its probable intention.Djalma had indeed passed the night in a tumult of happiness and hope, and a fever of impatience quite impossible to describe.Repairing to his bed-chamber only towards the morning, he had taken a few moments of repose, and had then dressed himself without assistance.
Many times, but in vain, the half-caste had discreetly knocked at the door of Djalma's apartment.It was only in the early part of the afternoon that the prince had rung the bell to order his carriage to be ready by half-past two.Faringhea having presented himself, the prince had given him the order without looking at him, as he might have done to any other of his servants.Was this suspicion, aversion, or mere absence of mind on the part of Djalma? Such were the questions which the half-
caste put to himself with growing anguish; for the designs of which he was the most active and immediate instrument might all be ruined by the least suspicion in the prince.
"Oh! the hours--the hours--how slow they are!" cried the young Indian, suddenly, in a low and trembling voice.
"The day before yesterday, my lord, you said the hours were very long,"
observed Faringhea, as he drew near Djalma in order to attract his attention.Seeing that he did not succeed in this he advanced a few steps nearer, and resumed: "Your joy seems very great, my lord; tell the cause of it to your poor and faithful servant, that he also may rejoice with you."
If he heard the words, Djalma did not pay any attention to them.He made no answer, and his large black eyes gazed upon vacancy.He seemed to smile admiringly upon some enchanting vision, and he folded his two hands upon his bosom, in the attitude which his countrymen assume at the hour of prayer.After some instants of contemplation, he said: "What o'clock is it?"--but he asked this question of himself, rather than of any third person.
"It will soon be two o'clock, my lord," said Faringhea.
