Seated as he was close to a woman whom he adored and practically clasping her in his arms in this room, the scene of his former happiness, amid a deep obscurity, seeing quite clearly as he did that she had just started crying, and feeling that she was sobbing from the heaving of her chest, he was unfortunate enough to turn into a cold diplomatist, nearly as cold as in those days when in the courtyard of the seminary he found himself the butt of some malicious joke on the part of one of his comrades who was stronger than he was.
Julien protracted his story by talking of his unhappy life since his departure from Verrieres.
"So," said Madame de Renal to herself, "after a year's absence and deprived almost entirely of all tokens of memory while I myself was forgetting him, he only thought of the happy days that he had had in Verrieres."
Her sobs redoubled. Julien saw the success of his story.
He realised that he must play his last card. He abruptly mentioned a letter he had just received from Paris.
"I have taken leave of my Lord Bishop."
"What! you are not going back to Besancon?
You are leaving us for ever?"
"Yes," answered Julien resolutely, "yes, I am leaving a country where I have been forgotten even by the woman whom I loved more than anyone in my life; I am leaving it and I shall never see it again.
I am going to Paris."
"You are going to Paris, dear," exclaimed Madame de Renal.
Her voice was almost choked by her tears and showed the extremity of her trouble.
Julien had need of this encouragement. He was on the point of executing a man?uvre which might decide everything against him; and up to the time of this exclamation he could not tell what effect he was producing as he was unable to see.
He no longer hesitated. The fear of remorse gave him complete control over himself. He coldly added as he got up.
"Yes, madame, I leave you for ever. May you be happy. Adieu."
He moved some steps towards the window. He began to open it.
Madame de Renal rushed to him and threw herself into his arms.
So it was in this way that, after a dialogue lasting three hours, Julien obtained what he desired so passionately during the first two hours.
Madame de Renal's return to her tender feelings and this overshadowing of her remorse would have been a divine happiness had they come a little earlier; but, as they had been obtained by artifice, they were simply a pleasure.
Julien insisted on lighting the night-light in spite of his mistress's opposition.
"Do you wish me then," he said to her "to have no recollection of having seen you.
Is the love in those charming eyes to be lost to me for ever?
Is the whiteness of that pretty hand to remain invisible?
Remember that perhaps I am leaving you for a very long time."
Madame de Renal could refuse him nothing. His argument made her melt into tears.
But the dawn was beginning to throw into sharp relief the outlines of the pine trees on the mountain east of Verrieres.
Instead of going away Julien, drunk with pleasure, asked Madame de Renal to let him pass the day in her room and leave the following night.
"And why not?" she answered.
"This fatal relapse robs me of all my respect and will mar all my life," and she pressed him to her heart.
"My husband is no longer the same; he has suspicions, he believes I led him the way I wanted in all this business, and shows great irritation against me.
If he hears the slightest noise I shall be ruined, he will hound me out like the unhappy woman that I am."
"Ah here we have a phrase of M. Chelan's," said Julien "you would not have talked like that before my cruel departure to the seminary; in those days you used to love me."
Julien was rewarded for the frigidity which he put into those words. He saw his love suddenly forget the danger which her husband's presence compelled her to run, in thinking of the much greater danger of seeing Julien doubt her love.
The daylight grew rapidly brighter and vividly illuminated the room. Julien savoured once more all the deliciousness of pride, when he saw this charming woman in his arms and almost at his feet, the only woman whom he had ever loved, and who had been entirely absorbed only a few hours before by her fear of a terrible God and her devotion to her duties.
Resolutions, fortified by a year's persuasion, had failed to hold out against his courage.
They soon heard a noise in the house. A matter that Madame de Renal had not thought of began to trouble her.
"That wicked Elisa will come into the room. What are we to do with this enormous ladder?" she said to her sweetheart, "where are we to hide it?
I will take it to the loft," she exclaimed suddenly half playfully.
"But you will have to pass through the servants' room," said Julien in astonishment.
"I will leave the ladder in the corridor and will call the servant and send him on an errand."
"Think of some explanation to have ready in the event of a servant passing the ladder and noticing it in the corridor."
"Yes, my angel," said Madame de Renal giving him a kiss "as for you, dear, remember to hide under the bed pretty quickly if Elisa enters here during my absence."
Julien was astonished by this sudden gaiety—"So" he thought, "the approach of a real danger instead of troubling her gives her back her spirits before she forgets her remorse.
Truly a superior woman.
Yes, that's a heart over which it is glorious to reign."
Julien was transported with delight.
Madame de Renal took the ladder, which was obviously too heavy for her.
Julien went to her help. He was admiring that elegant figure which was so far from betokening any strength when she suddenly seized the ladder without assistance and took it up as if it had been a chair.
She took it rapidly into the corridor of the third storey where she laid it alongside the wall.
She called a servant, and in order to give him time to dress himself, went up into the dovecot.