Serge Panine

“ She felt how useless was further argument, and falling on a sofa, crushed with grief, cried:
“Ah! this time it is finished; I am lost!”
Panine, then, approaching her, insinuating and supple, like the serpent with the first woman, murmured in her ear, as if afraid lest his words, in being spoken aloud, would lose their subtle venom:
“No, you are not lost. On the contrary, you are saved, if you will only listen to and understand me. What are we, you and I? You, a child adopted by a generous woman; I, a ruined nobleman. You live in luxury, thanks to Madame Desvarennes’s liberality. ”

“ I refuse millions every day.”
“Oh, I know capitalists run after you,” said Cayrol, laughingly; “and to welcome them you affect the scruples of a pretty woman. But let us go and congratulate the Prince.”
While Cayrol and Herzog were exchanging those few words which had such a considerable influence on the future of Serge Panine—a scene, terrible in its simplicity, was going on without being noticed. Micheline had thrown herself with a burst of tenderness into her mother’s arms. Serge was deeply affected by the young girl’s affection for him, when a trembling hand touched his arm. ”

“ Madame Desvarennes saw that she would gain nothing, and that the game was irrevocably lost. A great sorrow stole over her. She foresaw a dark future, and had a presentiment that trouble had entered the house with Serge Panine. What could she do? Combat the infatuation of her daughter! She knew that life would be odious for her if Micheline ceased to laugh and to sing. Her daughter's tears would conquer her will. Pierre had told her truly. Where was the use of fighting when defeat was certain? ”

“ Madame Desvarennes, in that supreme moment, was assailed by a doubt.
What if Micheline, in her blind love, did not believe her?
She raised her hand to stop Serge.
"Will not the fear of killing my daughter by this revelation stay you?" asked she, bitterly. "What manner of man are you to have so little heart and conscience?"
Panine burst into laughter.
"You see what your threats are worth, and what value I place on them. Spare them in the future. You ask me what manner of man I am? I will tell you. ”

“ The mistress took it, read what was written upon it in shaky handwriting, and suddenly becoming purple, rose. The paper bore these simple words:
"Received from Monsieur Salignon the sum of one hundred thousand francs.
Serge Panine."
"Who brought this paper?" asked Madame Desvarennes, crushing it between her fingers.
"The waiter who attends the card-room at the club."
"The waiter?" cried Madame Desvarennes, astonished.
"Oh, he is a sort of banker," said Marechal. "These gentlemen apply to him when they run short of money. The Prince must have found himself in that predicament. ”

“ Reason alone should guide us."
"And I beseech you to be guided only by your heart," cried Mademoiselle de Cernay, seizing the hands of the Prince, and pressing them with her trembling fingers. "Remember that you loved me. Say that you love me still!"
Jeanne had drawn near to Serge. Her burning face almost touched his. Her eyes, bright with excitement, pleaded passionately for a tender look. She was most fascinating, and Panine, usually master of himself, lost his presence of mind for a moment. ”

“ Although her son-in-law and daughter were perfect toward her in their behavior, she became gloomy and dull, and but seldom went now to Cernay. She felt in the way, and uncomfortable. The smiling and superficial politeness of the visitors irritated her nerves. These people were too well bred to be rude toward Panine’s mother-in-law, but she felt that their politeness was forced. Under their affected nicety she detected irony. She began to hate them all.
Serge, sovereign lord of Cernay, was really happy. Every moment he experienced new pleasure in gratifying his taste for luxury. ”

“ On the night of Sadowa, out of seven bearing the name of Panine, who had served against Prussia, five were dead, one was wounded; Serge alone was untouched, though red with the blood of his uncle Thaddeus, who was killed by the bursting of a shell. All these Panines, living or dead, had gained honors. When they were spoken of before Austrians or Poles, they were called heroes.
Such a man was a dangerous companion for a young, simple, and artless girl like Micheline. His adventures were bound to please her imagination, and his beauty sure to charm her eyes. Cayrol was a prudent man ”

“ I live at the club, where I dine cheaply. I ride my friends’ horses! I never touch a card, although I love play. I go much in society; I shine there, and walk home to save the cost of a carriage. My door-keeper cleans my rooms and keeps my linen in order. My private life is sad, dull, and humiliating. It is the black chrysalis of the bright butterfly which you know. That is what Prince Panine is, my dear Jeanne. A gentleman of good appearance, who lives as carefully as an old maid. The world sees him elegant and happy, and its envies his luxury ”

“ The voice of her whom he loved brought tears to his eyes.
"How generous and good you are!" said the young girl, "how nobly you have sacrificed yourself!"
"Don't thank me," replied Pierre; "I have no merit in accomplishing what you admire. I am weak, you see, and I could not bear to see you suffer."
There was a great commotion in the drawing-room. Cayrol was explaining to Herzog, who was listening with great attention, what was taking place. Serge Panine was to be Madame Desvarennes's son-in-law. ”

“ Panine remained silent for a moment. The young girl's, grief, which he knew to be sincere, troubled him more than he wished to show. He had loved Mademoiselle de Cernay, and he loved her still. But he felt that a sign of weakness on his part would place him at Jeanne's mercy, and that an avowal from his lips at this grave moment meant a breaking-off of his marriage with Micheline. He hardened himself against his impressions, and replied, with insinuating sweetness:
"Why do you speak of desertion, when a good man who loves you fondly, and who possesses a handsome fortune, wishes to marry you?" ”

“ You could hear the cashier shovelling heaps of gold. The people who had placed the Universal Credit Company on such a footing were either very powerful or very impudent.
Serge walked in, as he would have done at home, with his hat on, amid a number of small shareholders, who had come full of anxiety after reading the accounts in the newspapers, and who felt full of confidence after seeing the splendor of the place. Panine reached Herzog’s office, but when about to open the door, loud voices struck his ear. The financier was arguing with a director, and Panine listened. ”

“ My will alone protects me, and in a moment of weakness it may betray me."
"You still love him?" asked Madame Desvarennes, in a deep voice which made Serge quiver.
"Do I know? There are times when I think I hate him. What I have endured since I have been here is incredible! Everything galls me, irritates me. My husband is blind, Micheline unsuspicious, and Serge smiles quietly, as if he were preparing some treachery. Jealousy, anger, contempt, are all conflicting within me. I feel that I ought to go away, and still I feel a, horrible delight in remaining." ”

“ Madame Desvarennes did not answer, but pointed to the revolver on the table.
"Kill myself? Ah! no; that would be giving you too much pleasure."
And he gave the weapon a push, so that it rolled close to Madame
Desvarennes.
"Ah! wretch!" cried she, giving way to her suppressed rage. "You are not even a Panine! The Panines knew how to die."
"I have not time to act a melodrama with you," snarled Serge. "I am going to try to save myself."
And he took a step toward the door.
The mistress seized the revolver, and threw herself before him.
"You shall not go out!" she cried. ”

“ Serge, with haughty curiosity; Pierre, with inexpressible rage. In a moment, he guessed that the tall, handsome man beside his betrothed was his rival. If looks could kill, the Prince would have fallen down dead. Panine did not deign to notice the hatred which glistened in the eyes of the newcomer. He turned toward Micheline with exquisite grace and said:
"Your mother receives her friends this evening, I think, Mademoiselle; I shall have the honor of paying my respects to her."
And taking leave of Jeanne with a smile, and of Pierre with a courteous bow, he left, accompanied by Cayrol. ”

“ She would not have the continual murmur of their love-making in her ears, a murmur broken by the sound of kisses when they reached shady corners.
One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone. She looked serious, as if same important business were pending. She stood before the fireplace; her hands crossed behind her back like a man. Apparently, she had sought to be alone. Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in the garden. Serge felt uneasy. He had a presentiment of trouble. ”

“ Serge, exasperated and stamping with rage, wanted to speak, but it was no easy matter interrupting Herzog. Besides, there was something in the latter's look which annoyed Serge. His glance seemed to be fathoming the depths of Panine's pockets, and the latter instinctively tightened his arms across his chest, so that Herzog might not see that his pocketbook was empty.
"What are you talking about?" asked Serge, at last, with a constrained smile.
"About things which must greatly interest you," said Herzog, familiarly. "Come, be sincere. ”

“ Serge looked hard at Herzog.
“What is there to prove,” replied he, “that this speculation, which brings ruin and loss to me, does not enrich you?”
“Ungrateful fellow!” observed the financier, ironically, “you suspect me!”
“Of having robbed me!” cried Serge, in a rage. “Why not?”
Herzog, for a moment, lost his temper and turned red in the face. He seized Panine violently by the arm, and said:
“Gently, Prince; whatever insults you heap upon me must be shared by you. You are my partner.”
“Scoundrel!” yelled Panine, exasperated at being held by Herzog. ”

“ She came home resolved not to leave until she married. She arrived in the Rue Saint-Dominique at the moment when Pierre Delarue, thirsting with ambition, was leaving his betrothed, his relatives, and gay Paris to undertake engineering work on the coasts of Algeria and Tunis that would raise him above his rivals. In leaving, the young man did not for a moment think that Jeanne was returning from England at the same hour with trouble for him in the person of a very handsome cavalier, Prince Serge Panine, who had been introduced to her at a ball during the London season. ”

“ Are you not tired?"
"Not more so than usual," replied Micheline, looking round to follow the movements of her husband, who was trying to reach Jeanne.
"Why did you come to this party? It was unwise."
"Serge wished me to come, and I did not care to let him come without me."
"Eh! dear me!" exclaimed Madame Desvarennes. "Let him do what he likes.
Men are savages. When you are ill it won't hurt him."
"I am not ill, and I won't be," resumed Micheline, warmly. "We are going away now."
She motioned to Serge with her fan. Panine came to her. ”

“ Time was passing. At least an hour had sped since Micheline left him to go to her mother, and Serge was beginning to think that the interview was very long, when a light step made him tremble. It came from the gallery. He thought it was Micheline, and opening the door, he went to meet her.
He drew back disappointed, vexed, and anxious, when he found it was Pierre. The two men had never met alone since that terrible night at Nice. Panine assumed a bold demeanor, and returned Pierre’s firm look. Steadying his voice, he said:
“Ah! is it you?” ”

“ You favor Prince Panine?”
“And you; you are on Pierre Delarue’s side?”
“I take no side. I am only a subordinate, you know; I do not count.”
“Do not attempt to deceive me. Your influence over the mistress is great. The confidence she has in you is a conclusive proof. Important events are about to take place here. Pierre has certainly returned to claim his right as betrothed, and Mademoiselle Micheline loves Prince Serge. Out of this a serious conflict will take place in the house. There will be a battle. ”

“ Lady Harton pointed to the bride with her fan. The Prince, leaving his companion, advanced toward Micheline.
"One of my English relatives, a Polish lady, married to Lord Harton, wishes to be introduced to you," said Serge. "Are you agreeable?"
"With all my heart," replied the young wife, looking lovingly at her husband. "All who belong to you are dear to me, you know."
The beautiful Englishwoman approached slowly.
"The Princess Panine!" said Serge, gravely, introducing Micheline, who bowed gracefully. Then, with a shade of familiarity: "Lady Harton!" continued he, introducing his relative. ”

“ A refusal on your part would have seemed too cruel. Already, you are not the best of friends, and it is one of my regrets. You must be good to my mother, Serge; she is getting old, and we owe her much gratitude and love.”
Panine remained silent. Could such a sudden change have come over Micheline in one day? She who lately sacrificed her mother for her husband now came and pleaded in favor of Madame Desvarennes. ”

“ Forgive my unjust words; you have done all in your power. You have had momentary weaknesses like all human beings. You must be helped, and may rely on me. I will speak to your husband to-morrow; he shall take you away. Lacking happiness, you must have peace. Go you are a brave heart, and if Heaven be just, you will be rewarded."
Serge heard the sound of a kiss. In an embrace, the mother had blessed her adopted daughter. Then the Prince saw Madame Desvarennes go slowly past him. And the silence was broken only by the sobs of Jeanne who was half lying on the sofa in the darkness. ”