Painful DetailsDo not look for any weakness on my part. I have avenged myself.

　　I have deserved death, and here I am. Pray for my soul.

　　SCHILLERJulien remained motionless, seeing nothing. When he came to himselfa little, he noticed the whole congregation rushing from the church; thepriest had left the altar. Julien set off at a leisurely pace in the wake ofsome women who were screaming as they went. One woman, who wastrying to escape faster than the rest, gave him a violent push; he fell. Hisfeet were caught in a chair overturned by the crowd; as he rose, he felthimself gripped by the collar; it was a gendarme in full uniform who wasarresting him. Mechanically Julien's hand went to his pocket pistols; buta second gendarme seized him by the arms.

　　He was led away to prison. They took him into a room, put irons onhis wrists, and left him by himself; the door was shut on him anddouble-locked; all this was carried out quickly, and he remained unconscious of it.

　　'Faith, all is over,' he said aloud on coming to himself… 'Yes, in a fortnight the guillotine … or suicide between now and then.'

　　His reasoning went no farther; he felt a pain in his head as though ithad been gripped with violence. He looked round to see if anyone washolding it. A few moments later, he fell into a deep slumber.

　　Madame de Renal was not mortally wounded. The first bullet hadpassed through her hat; as she turned round, the second shot had beenfired. This bullet had struck her in the shoulder, and, what was surprising, had glanced back from the shoulder-blade, which nevertheless itshattered, against a gothic pillar, from which it broke off a huge splinterof stone.

　　 When, after a long and painful examination, the surgeon, a grave man,said to Madame de Renal: 'I answer for your life as for my own,' she wasdeeply affected.

　　For a long time she had sincerely longed for death. The letter whichshe had been ordered to write by her confessor of the moment, and hadwritten to M. de La Mole, had dealt the final blow to this creatureweakened by an ever-present sorrow. This sorrow was Julien's absence;she herself called it remorse. Her director, a young cleric, virtuous andfervent, recently arrived from Dijon, was under no illusion.

　　'To die thus, but not by my own hand, is not a sin,' thought Madamede Renal. 'God will pardon me perhaps for rejoicing in my death.' Shedared not add: 'And to die by the hand of Julien is the acme of bliss.'

　　As soon as she was rid of the presence of the surgeon, and of all herfriends who had come crowding round her, she sent for Elisa, her maid.

　　'The gaoler,' she said to her, blushing deeply, 'is a cruel man. Doubtless he intends to maltreat him, thinking that by so doing he will bepleasing me … The thought of such a thing is unendurable. Could younot go, as though on your own behalf, and give the gaoler this packetwhich contains a few louis? You will tell him that religion does not permit his maltreating him … But on no account must he mention this giftof money.'

　　It was to this circumstance that Julien was indebted for the humanityof the gaoler of Verrieres; he was still that M. Noiroud, the loyal supporter of the government, whom we have seen thrown into such a panic bythe arrival of M. Appert.

　　A magistrate appeared in the prison. 'I have taken life with premeditation,' Julien said to him; 'I bought the pistols and had them loaded by So-and-so, the gunsmith. Article 1342. of the Penal Code is quite clear, I deserve death and await it.' The magistrate, surprised by the character ofthis reply, sought to multiply his questions so that the accused mightcontradict himself in his answers.

　　'But don't you see,' Julien said to him with a smile, 'that I am makingmyself out as guilty as you can wish? Go, Sir, you shall not lack thequarry that you are pursuing. You shall have the pleasure of passing sentence. Spare me your presence.

　　'I have still a tiresome duty to perform,' thought Julien, 'I must write toMademoiselle de La Mole.

　　 'I have avenged myself,' he told her. 'Unfortunately, my name will appear in the newspapers, and I cannot escape from this world incognito. Ishall die within two months. My revenge has been terrible, like the griefof being parted from you. From this moment, I forbid myself to writeand to utter your name. Never speak of me, even to my son: silence is theonly way of honouring me. To the average man I shall be a commonmurderer … Allow me to tell the truth in this supreme moment: you willforget me. This great catastrophe, as to which I recommend you never toopen your lips to a living soul, will suppress for some years all the romantic and unduly adventurous element that I saw in your character.

　　You were made to live among the heroes of the Middle Ages; show inthis crisis their firmness of character. Let what is bound to happen be accomplished in secret and without compromising you. You will take afalse name and dispense with a confidant. If you must absolutely havethe assistance of a friend, I bequeath to you the abbe Pirard.

　　'Do not speak to anyone else, especially to men of your own class; deLuz or Caylus.

　　'A year after my death, marry M. de Croisenois; I order you as yourhusband. Do not write to me at all, I should not answer you. Though farless of a villain than Iago, or so it seems to me, I shall say like him: Fromthis time forth I never will speak word.

　　'No one shall see me either speak or write; you will have had my lastwords, with my last adoration.

　　'J. S.'

　　It was after he had sent off this letter that for the first time, Julien, having slightly recovered himself, became extremely unhappy. One by one,each of the hopes of his ambition must be wrenched from his heart bythose solemn words: 'I am to die.' Death, in itself, was not horrible in hiseyes. His whole life had been merely a long preparation for misfortune,and he had certainly never forgotten what is reckoned the greatest misfortune of all.

　　'Why!' he said to himself, 'if in sixty days I had to fight a duel with aman who was a champion fencer, should I be so weak as to think of it incessantly and with terror in my soul?'

　　He spent more than an hour in seeking to discover his exact sentiments in this connection.

　　 When he had seen clearly into his soul, and the truth appeared beforehis eyes as sharply defined as one of the pillars of his prison, he thoughtof remorse.

　　'Why should I feel any? I have been outraged in a terrible manner; Ihave taken life, I deserve death, but that is all. I die after having paid myreckoning with humanity. I leave behind me no unfulfilled obligation, Iowe nothing to anyone; there is nothing shameful in my death but the instrument of it: that by itself, it is true, will amply suffice to shame me inthe eyes of the townsfolk of Verrieres; but, from an intellectual point ofview, what could be more contemptible? There remains one way of acquiring distinction in their eyes: namely, by scattering gold coins amongt............