They then told gaily all the incidents of that memorable day; and when, during the course of conversation, they heard how lightly Ireneus had considered the bear-hunt, one of them said: 

“Ah, I am not surprised at what has happened.  One should not trifle with a bear.  He is cunning and proud, and understands everything said of him.  If he is not treated with respect, he takes a cruel revenge.  I would not be surprised if, having heard what Monsieur said, he laid at the foot of the tree expressly to teach him a lesson.”

Ireneus, to whom Ebba translated this, laughed at the superstition.  The huntsmen, seeing him laugh, shook their heads, as if to say, “There is an imprudent fellow, who will not profit by experience.”

As he regained strength, Ireneus again felt the necessity of action.  The last letters he received informed him that the legitimist movement had become more serious, the Duchess de Berry preparing to leave Massa.  He also heard that she had gone successively to the south, and had unfurled the white flag in La Vendee.  Ireneus resolved to go.  When he saw the conduct of Ebba, her deep distress when he was sick and the joy which had burst forth when he recovered, he could not conceal from himself that she entertained sentiments toward him which he did not reciprocate.  He loved the young girl, and experienced much pleasure from the contemplation of her delicate grace and melancholy beauty.  He loved the sound of her melodious voice.  More than once since the discovery he had made, he asked himself if he should not look on what had happened as a signal interposition of Heaven in his favor.  A quiet life, a comfortable home, the love of friends and of a pretty woman, certainly deserved some thanks.  He however was soon hurried from this idyllic existence by the ardor of his youth, and the prospect of an adventurous career.  To some men a peaceable life does not seem existence.  They are like certain birds, which show themselves only in the tempest.

Ireneus was of this character.  When he carefully scrutinized his heart, he saw that but a portion of it could belong to Ebba:  that with her he would constantly be persecuted by repinings at fate, and would long for the excitement of battle and camp.  Should he then accept a pure heart from the young girl?  Should he deceive her?  Honor required him to leave her.

M. de Vermondans was painfully surprised when he heard of this determination.  He had grown to look on Ireneus as a son, and perhaps, in the fondness of his heart, had made a happy dream for the future career of Ebba and himself.  He attempted to persuade him to lay aside the plan, but in vain.

“Take care, dear Ireneus, that you do not become dazzled by the prestige of a sentiment, generous and noble it is true, but which may result in misfortune to yourself, without benefiting others.  How many men thus neglect their advantages, and attribute the blame to Providence, which places happiness within their grasp, but which they do not see, so dazzled are they by some imaginary attraction.  If this attraction fades away, they tell how they looked behind; they regret what they have lost when it is too late.  Fortune has granted what they wished but neglected to others.”