They were silent, but in vain.

After long waiting the door opened, and there came out of the house a young and elegant woman accompanied by a distinguished-looking man, whose features were of the Oriental type.

They attracted at once the attention of the promenaders. The woman was about twenty years old; her features were delicate. She was a pale brunette, with black eyes full of languor, and she bore on her face an expression so n.o.ble and so sad that one thought she was an angel of death. Her calmness apparently covered some bitter chagrin and a profound melancholy. Her dress was sombre and bore out the grave character of her features, maintaining without heightening her beauty.

Her companion, in spite of his elegant appearance and gentlemanlike bearing, had, on close inspection, something pretentious about him. He played with too much affectation the role of fine gentleman to be real.

In every line of his face could be seen pride and vanity, without human sentiment. His mobile eyes, his sensual lips, his strong physique, betokened exuberant pa.s.sions.

Everything about him disclosed instincts, but not heart. In spite of his politeness, this man, cold, _distingue_ at first, inspired a certain terror. One easily divined that in his heart there was no pity, and that he had made of his egotism a systematic rule of conduct from which nothing could make him deviate. A beggar meeting him alone would never dare to ask alms. He would hazard it only before witnesses. In spite of his courteous manner toward the lady, who was evidently his wife, there appeared to be a sort of weariness and constraint between them. He seemed to drag her along with him like a victim. Without looking around her, she walked (if I may say so) automatically, while her husband did not even try to conceal his indifference.

Our group knew immediately that this was the mysterious singer. Jacob, absorbed in himself, did not perceive that he was in their path; his haggard eyes were fixed on the woman, who had not yet noticed him. The husband did not see Jacob either, until he was near him. Then he frowned and bit his lips; but this expression was followed by a forced smile and a polite bow. The woman mechanically raised her head, recoiled, and gave a cry of surprise. Her voice recalled Jacob to himself. He took off his hat and bowed, standing aside to let them pa.s.s.

"What an astonishing meeting!" said the stranger, giving his hand without cordiality.

The woman had become calm, and added, with a sad smile, in a trembling voice: "It is true; the meeting is unexpected!"

"Very unexpected, and very happy for me," replied Jacob with emotion.

"After a long absence, I am about to return to Poland. I desired to visit a part of Italy which has been so extolled. Chance has kept me in Genoa with other travellers. Your divine voice fixed us under your windows, for there is not another like it in the world."

The husband listened with indifference to this compliment. The wife blushed, and did not reply.

"But what are you doing at Genoa?" said Jacob.

"We go here and there," replied the husband. "Dr. Lebrun has prescribed a warm climate for Mathilde, for she has an obstinate little cough.

That is why we are here in this bracing atmosphere."

"And how do you like Italy?"

"She impresses me," said the woman, "as a mirage of that Orient which I have never seen, and for which I long and dream as for one's native land. Italy is very beautiful!"

During this conversation the Jew noticed that he was the object of his companions' curiosity. He hesitated to make his adieux, and separate himself from them. The husband, always polite, relieved him from this embarra.s.sment.

"Will you not come with us?" asked he, politely.

"Willingly, but permit me to take leave of my companions."

He called Ivas and charged him to make his excuses to the company, at the same time begging him to wait for him; then went away with his acquaintances.

"Ah!" cried the Italian on learning from Ivas that he had been requested to wait for his friend, "I also am willing to wait a long time to find out who this lady is. I am anxious to hear this marvellous singer again. Where are you staying?" said she to the Pole.

"At the Hotel Feder."

"That is fortunate. You are very near me. I am at the Hotel de France.

Wait for your companion, and bring him to me, willingly or by force, to drink tea. I will not fix the hour, for so active is my curiosity about this woman that I cannot sleep until I have seen you."

She turned to the rest of the company. "Messieurs," said she, "will you also accept my invitation?"

They all bowed their acceptance, and Lucie took the Russian's arm, with whom she departed, chatting vivaciously.

Ivas remained with the Italians. The Dane and the Tsigane went away together.

"I perceive," said Lucie to her cavalier, "that this unexpected meeting betokens a mysterious romance. Did you see how he looked at her? Did you hear the cry she gave? The husband and the lover, that is certain.

How I wish I knew their history! Will he consent to tell us? Provided he comes, I know well how to lead him on."

"Why should their story interest us?"

"Because it will be more curious than the books you read. I love reality better than fiction."

CHAPTER V.

A SIMPLE HISTORY OF LOVE.

Ivas, abandoned, seated himself alone on a bench, his head bowed. The sight of the men and women around him who had leisure to occupy themselves with sentiments of love, and their conversation, made a sad impression.

Hunger, misery, political pa.s.sions, consumed him. He thought of his country and its future. He sought a remedy for his unhappiness and the sorrows of his countrymen. What mattered to him the sweet words of women, their tender glances, their whispered promises; women for him did not exist before the vision of his misery and his despair. An inexpressible sadness tortured him. Was he not going to risk his life in order to breathe his native air?

His melancholy thoughts were rocked by the sea breeze when some one clapped him on the shoulder. It was Jacob.

"Let us return," said he with vivacity.

"I am at your service, but first let me tell you that we are invited to take tea with the Italian lady at her hotel."

"No! I will not go! I need solitude. Have you accepted?"

"Certainly, for I do not enjoy being alone with my thoughts. And I believe, dear friend of forty-eight hours, that it will do you good to go also. We have not known each other long, but permit me to suggest that there are things that one had better bury in the bottom of the heart. Come, Coloni is very curious. If we do not go she is capable of coming after us. That would be worse still."

"It is true that we are recommended to cure old wounds by distraction.

Come, then, we will forget ourselves in a foolish and gay society."

"You speak of old wounds. Then this lady"--

"Do not speak of her. Are there not other persons, other faces and names, which awaken old memories? You had better speak of man rather than of woman. This one is an unfortunate who slowly works out her destiny."

"Let us go, then!"

"Let us go! I will be gay in spite of"--

"Of what?"

"In spite of mournful remembrances."

They turned and walked rapidly along the dark streets which conducted them to the sh.o.r.e. Here were built two hotels. In the morning this part of the city was very busy on account of the bourse, but all was silent and deserted at this hour of the evening.

They entered the Hotel de France.