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of my uncle； Captain Victor； who in his lifetime resembled Don Quixote
much more than Sancho Panza； and who loved blows quite as much as
most people fear them。
For thirty years I have been in the habit of carrying this cane upon all
memorable or solemn visits which I make； and those two figures of knight
and squire give me inspiration and counsel。 I imagine I can hear them
speak。 Don Quixote says；
〃Think well about great things； and know that thought is the only
reality in this world。 Lift up Nature to thine own stature； and let the whole
universe be for thee no more than the reflection of thine own heroic soul。
Combat for honour's sake： that alone is worthy of a man！ and if it should
fall thee to receive wounds； shed thy blood as a beneficent dew； and
smile。〃
And Sancho Panza says to me in his turn；
〃Remain just what heaven made thee； comrade！ Prefer the bread…crust
which has become dry in thy wallet to all the partridges that roast in the
kitchen of lords。 Obey thy master； whether he by a wise man or a fool； and
do not cumber thy brain with too many useless things。 Fear blows； 'tis
verily tempting God to seek after danger！〃
But if the incomparable knight and his matchless squire are imagined
only upon this cane of mine； they are realities to my inner conscience。
Within every one of us there lives both a Don Quixote and a Sancho Panza
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to whom we hearken by turns； and though Sancho most persuades us； it is
Don Quixote that we find ourselves obliged to admire。。。。 But a truce to this
dotage！and let us go to see Madame de Gabry about some matters more
important than the everyday details of life。。。。
Same day。
I found Madame de Gabry dressed in black； just buttoning her gloves。
〃I am ready；〃 she said。
Ready！so I have always found her upon any occasion of doing a
kindness。
After some compliments about the good health of her husband； who
was taking a walk at the time； we descended the stairs and got into the
carriage。
I do not know what secret influence I feared to dissipate by breaking
silence； but we followed the great deserted drives without speaking；
looking at the crosses； the monumental columns； and the mortuary wreaths
awaiting sad purchasers。
The vehicle at last halted at the extreme verge of the land of the living；
before the gate upon which words of hope are graven。
〃Follow me；〃 said Madame de Gabry； whose tall stature I noticed then
for the first time。 She first walked down an alley of cypresses； and then
took a very narrow path contrived between the tombs。 Finally； halting
before a plain slab； she said to me；
〃It is here。〃
And she knelt down。 I could not help noticing the beautiful and easy
manner in which this Christian woman fell upon her knees； leaving the
folds of her robe to spread themselves at random about her。 I had never
before seen any lady kneel down with such frankness and such
forgetfulness of self； except two fair Polish exiles； one evening long ago；
in a deserted church in Paris。
This image passed like a flash； and I saw only the sloping stone on
which was graven the name of Clementine。 What I then felt was
something so deep and vague that only the sound of some rich music
could convey the idea of it。 I seemed to hear instruments of celestial
sweetness make harmony in my old heart。 With the solemn accords of a
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funeral chant there seemed to mingle the subdued melody of a song of
love； for my soul blended into one feeling the grave sadness of the present
with the familiar graces of the past。
I cannot tell whether we had remained a long time at the tomb of
Clementine before Madame de Gabry arose。 We passed through the
cemetery again without speaking to each other。 Only when we found
ourselves among the living once more did I feel able to speak。
〃While following you there；〃 I said to Madame de Gabry； 〃I could not
help thinking of those angels with whom we are said to meet on the
mysterious confines of life and death。 That tomb you led me to； of which I
knew nothingas I know nothing； or scarcely anything； concerning her
whom it coversbrought back to me emotions which were unique in my
life； and which seem in the dullness of that life like some light gleaming
upon a dark road。 The light recedes farther and farther away as the journey
lengthens； I have now almost reached the bottom of the last slope； and；
nevertheless； each time I turn to look back I see the glow as bright as ever。
〃You； Madame； who knew Clementine as a young wife and mother
after her hair had become grey； you cannot imagine her as I see her still； a
young fair girl； all pink and white。 Since you have been so kind as to be
my guide； dear Madame； I ought to tell you what feelings were awakened
in me by the sight of that grave to which you led me。 Memories throng
back upon me。 I feel myself like some old gnarled and mossy oak which
awakens a nestling world of birds by shaking its branches。 Unfortunately
the song my birds sing is old as the world； and can amuse no one but
myself。〃
〃Tell me your souvenirs；〃 said Madame de Gabry。 〃I cannot read your
books； because they are written only for scholars； but I like very much to
have you talk to me； because you know how to give interest to the most
ordinary things in life。 And talk to me just as you would talk to an old
woman。 This morning I found three grey threads in my hair。〃
〃Let them come without regret； Madame；〃 I replied。 〃Time deals
gently only with those who take it gently。 And when in some years more
you will have a silvery fringe under your black fillet； you will be reclothed
with a new beauty； less vivid but more touching than the first； and you will
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find your husband admiring your grey tresses as much as he did that black
curl which you gave him when about to be married； and which he
preserves in a locket as a thing sacred。。。。 These boulevards are broad and
very quiet。 We can talk at our ease as we walk along。 I will tell you； to
begin with； how I first made the acquaintance of Clementine's father。 But
you must not expect anything extraordinary； or anything even remarkable；
you would be greatly deceived。
〃Monsieur de Lessay used to live in the second storey of an old house
in the Avenue de l'Observatoire； having a stuccoed front； ornamented with
antique busts； and a large unkept garden attached to it。 That facade and
that garden were the first images my child…eyes perceived； and they will
be the last； no doubt； which I still see through my closed eyelids when the
Inevitable Day comes。 For it was in that house that I was born； it was in
that garden I first learned； while playing； to feel and know some particles
of this old