Free The Dedalus Book of French Horror: The 19th Century by Terry Hale

could not help but notice her embarrassment. She never moved from where she was seated, her hands folded on her lap. When she stood up to show me to the door, I saw that the front of her dress was torn and ragged, and that she had tried to hide her poverty with her hands.
    ‘I became increasingly enamoured of her manner, which was both sweet and sad, not to say besotted by her rare beauty. After courting her assiduously for some time, I declared my passion for her. She replied that she had too high a regard for me to presume that I wished to take advantage of her destitution, that she had complete faith in my integrity and the sincerity of my feelings, but that she had resolved to take leave of a world in which she had already suffered too greatly. Accordingly, she had written to the superior of the convent of Saint-Thomas and asked to be admitted as a novice. It was no easy matter to dissuade her from this plan, but I finally managed to convince her that the austerity of the convent, after all the hardships she had suffered, would surely kill her.
    ‘I do not delude myself that Apolline loves me as much as I do her. She admires me as a father. She sees me more as a benevolent teacher or a sympathetic friend. She is attracted to me in part because until now she has only encountered those who are selfish and ferocious. She is good, sensitive and wise, entirely sensible, what more could I ask for? She has declined every present I have brought her: she cannot do otherwise, she says, her honour demands it. Decent girls will only accept presents from their husbands. I have promised her that we shall be married shortly, and this thought fills her with joy. It was for that reason – so that we may discuss preparations for the marriage, though who knows what else might happen – that I have made an appointment with her for tomorrow night. I’m not lying about it, here is her letter.’

    My Dear Bertholin,
    I can only presume that it is because you are so busy that you have chosen such a late hour to visit me. But I shall obey your wishes, my dearest husband. I shall extinguish my lamp so as not to give rise to any gossip from evil-minded neighbours. Come stealthily.
    Your devoted bride.

    ‘I have decided to depart without telling her anything in order to spare her a painful farewell. If I see her, I suspect that I shall not have the heart to go. I shall write on arrival and, once I am established in my new position, I shall come back and marry her clandestinely. We shall then settle in Auxerre, where I shall tell my associates that we have been married for some time in order to avert suspicions.
    ‘But come tomorrow depart I must. First, though, I must send some money so that the poor girl doesn’t die of starvation while I am away.
    ‘Good Lord! Eleven o’clock already! I must be on my way, de l’Argentière!’
    On these words, Bertholin rose and went to the door. The public prosecutor, who had listened to his friend’s story attentively, though his face had remained cold and impassive, accompanied him to the bottom of the stairs, still asking questions.
    ‘I believe you mentioned that Apolline is very beautiful?’
    ‘Indeed, she is, my friend. I have known many women, but I have never met one as beautiful as this. Picture to yourself Bertin’s Eucharis, Parny’s Eléonore, a nymph, Egeria and Diana all rolled into one! She is tall, gracious and slender; she is as pale and melancholic as an invalid; her hair, which she wears in coils, makes her look even more virginal; her eyebrows are jet black and she has large, languorous, blue eyes.’
    ‘And she lives at the same address as you?’
    ‘The same, at the end of the corridor above mine.’
    De l’Argentière gripped Bertholin as if he were a dish of food. A strange gesture on his part, he who was usually so cold and disdainful.
II
    Nine o’clock was tolling from the Carmelites, the Luxembourg, Saint-Sulpice, the Abbaye-au-Bois, and Saint-Germain-des-Prés as