I left before any one in the house was up; for I was afraid that my resolution might be shaken at the least sign of friendship, and I felt that I could no longer impose upon a too generous affection.  I could not, however, pass Edmee’s door without pressing my lips to the lock.  Then, hiding my head in my hands, I rushed away like a madman, and scarcely stopped until I had reached the other side of the Pyrenees.  There I took a short rest, and wrote to Edmee that, as far as concerned myself, she was free; that I would not thwart a single wish of hers; but that it was impossible for me to be a witness of my rival’s triumph.  I felt firmly convinced that she loved him; and I resolved to crush out my own love.  I was promising more than I could perform; but these first manifestations of wounded pride gave me confidence in myself.  I also wrote to my uncle to tell him I should not hold myself worthy of the boundless affection he had bestowed on me until I had won my spurs as a knight.  I confided to him my hopes of a soldier’s fame and fortune with all the candour of conceit; and since I felt sure that Edmee would read this letter I feigned unclouded delight and an ardour that knew no regrets; I did not know whether my uncle was aware of the real cause of my departure; but my pride could not bring itself to confess.  It was the same with the abbe, to whom I likewise wrote a letter full of gratitude and affection.  I ended by begging my uncle to put himself to no expense on my account over the gloomy keep at Roche-Mauprat, assuring him that I could never bring myself to live there.  I urged him to consider the fief as his daughter’s property, and only asked that he would be good enough to advance me my share of the income for two or three years, so that I might pay the expenses of my own outfit, and thus prevent my devotion to the American cause from being a burden to the noble Lafayette.

My conduct and my letters apparently gave satisfaction.  Soon after I reached the coast of Spain I received from my uncle a letter full of kindly exhortations, and of mild censure for my abrupt departure.  He gave me a father’s blessing, and declared on his honour that the fief of Roche-Mauprat would never be accepted by Edmee, and sent me a considerable sum of money exclusive of the income due me in the future.  The abbe expressed the same mild censure, together with still warmer exhortations.  It was easy to see that he preferred Edmee’s tranquility to my happiness, and that he was full of genuine joy at my departure.  Nevertheless he had a liking for me, and his friendship showed itself touchingly through the cruel satisfaction that was mingled with it.  He expressed envy of my lot; proclaimed his enthusiasm for the cause of independence; and declared that he himself had more than once felt tempted to throw off the cassock and take up the musket.  All this, however, was mere boyish affectation; his timid, gentle nature always kept him the priest under the mask of the philosopher.