Yes, I am more jealous of a thought than of
all the women in the world. Love is vast, but it is not infinite,
while Science has depths unfathomed, to which I will not let you go
alone. I hate all that comes between us. If you win the glory for
which you strive, I must be unhappy; it will bring you joy, while I--I
alone--should be the giver of your happiness."
"No, my angel, it was not an idea, not a thought; it was a man that
first led me into this glorious path."
"A man!" she cried in terror.
"Do you remember, Pepita, the Polish officer who stayed with us in
1809?"
"Do I remember him!" she exclaimed; "I am often annoyed because my
memory still recalls those eyes, like tongues of fire darting from
coals of hell, those hollows above the eyebrows, that broad skull
stripped of hair, the upturned moustache, the angular, worn face!
--What awful impassiveness in his bearing! Ah! surely if there had
been a room in any inn I would never have allowed him to sleep here."
"That Polish gentleman," resumed Balthazar, "was named Adam de
Wierzchownia. When you left us alone that evening in the parlor, we
happened by chance to speak of chemistry. Compelled by poverty to give
up the study of that science, he had become a soldier. It was, I
think, by means of a glass of sugared water that we recognized each
other as adepts. When I ordered Mulquinier to bring the sugar in
pieces, the captain gave a start of surprise.
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