He was not without uneasiness.  How could he see Suzanne again, situated as he was between the jealous watching of the servant and the vigilance of the father?  And above all, how could he discard his uncle’s entreaties, and refuse an unexpected promotion, without arousing suspicion in high quarters?  For, more than ever, he wished to remain at Althausen and keep the treasure which had just caused him so much anxiety.  Yes, he saw them accumulating on his head, swooping from all parts and under all aspects:  Veronica, Durand, Ridoux, the Bishop, the gossips, scandal, dishonour.

But, after all, what did it matter to him?  The essential is that he was in possession of Suzanne, that Suzanne was his, that he had the most charming of mistresses, and he was indifferent to all the rest.

To see her again readily and without danger, to contrive other interviews, and above all to act prudently, was what he must think of.  The chief step was taken, the rest would come of its own accord.

With Suzanne’s consent all obstacles could be smoothed away, and clever is he who succeeds in barring the way to two lovers who are determined to see one another again.

The old counsellor Lamblin, who in his capacity of magistrate was aware of that, said long ago: 

  “To safely guard a certain fleece,
  In vain is all the watchman’s care;
  ’Tis labour lost, if Beauty chance
  To feel a strange sensation there.”

It was on this indeed that Marcel calculated; and, smiling, he slept the sleep of the just and dreamed the most rosy dreams.

LXXIV.

BEFORE MASS.

  “You think that we ought not to
  break in two this puppet which is
  called Public Opinion, and sit upon it.”

  EUG.  VERMEESCH (L’Infamie humaine).

A loud and well-known voice roused him unpleasantly from his dreams.

—­Well, well, lazy-bones, still in bed when the sun is risen!  You are not thinking then of going away?  You go to bed the first, and you get up the last.  I, a poor old invalid, am giving you an example of activity.  Ah, young people! young people! you are not equal to us.  Come, come you can rub your eyes to-morrow.  Get up!  Get up!

—­How early you are, my dear uncle; my Mass has not yet rang.

—­Have you no preparations to make for departure?

—­For departure.  Is it for to-day then?

—­Do you wish to put it off to the Greek Kalends?

—­To-day! repeated Marcel.  I did not think really that it was so soon.

He dressed with the prudent delays of a man who says to himself:  Let us see, let us consider carefully what we must do.

—­You don’t look satisfied, resumed Ridoux; I bring you honour, fortune and success, and you look sulky.

—­Honour, fortune and success.  Those are very fine words!