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tumult of the heart。 It was not that reason was overpowered； on
the contrary； reason was intensely active； but active with that
logic of flames which lights up the vision of maniacs。
〃Although； of course； my passion was but too evident to every one；
I dreaded its premature avowal； lest I should lose her； and almost
equally dreaded delay； lest I should suffer from that also。 At
length the avowal was extorted from me by jealousy of a brilliant
PoleKorinskiwho had recently appeared in our circle； and was
obviously casting me in the shade by his superior advantages of
novelty； of personal attraction； and of a romantic history。 She
accepted me； and now； for a time； I was the happiest of mortals。
The fever of the last few weeks was abating； it gave place to a
deep tide of hopeful joy。 Could I have died then！ Could I have
even died shortly afterwards； when I knew the delicious mystery of
a jealousy not too absorbing！ For you must know that my happiness
was brief。 Jealousy； to which all passion of a deep and exacting
power is inevitably allied； soon began to disturb my content。
Agalma had no tenderness。 She permitted caresses； never returned
them。 She was ready enough to listen to all my plans for the
future； so long as the recital moved amid details of fortune and
her position in societythat is； so long as her vanity was
interested； but I began to observe with pain that her thoughts
never rested on tender domesticities and poetic anticipations。
This vexed me more and more。 The very spell which she exercised
over me made her want of tenderness more intolerable。 I yearned
for her lovefor some sympathy with the vehement passion which was
burning within me； and she was as marble。
〃You will not be surprised to hear that I reproached her bitterly
for her indifference。 That is the invariable and fatal folly of
loversthey seem to imagine that a heart can be scolded into
tenderness！ To my reproaches she at first answered impatiently
that they were unjust； that it was not her fault if her nature was
less expansive than mine； and that it was insulting to be told she
was indifferent to the man whom she had consented to marry。 Later
she answered my reproaches with haughty defiance； one day
intimating that if I really thought what I said； and repented our
engagement； it would be most prudent for us to separate ere it was
too late。 This quieted me for a while。 But it brought no balm to
my wounds。
〃And now fresh tortures were added。 Korinski became quite marked
in his attentions to Agalma。 These she received with evident
delight； so much so； that I saw by the glances of others that they
were scandalized at it； and this； of course； increased my pain。 My
renewed reproaches only made her manner colder to me； to Korinski
it became what I would gladly have seen towards myself。
〃The stress and agitation of those days were too much for me。 I
fell ill； and for seven weeks lay utterly prostrate。 On
recovering； this note was handed to me。 It was from Agalma。〃
Bourgonef here held out to me a crumpled letter； and motioned that
I should open it and read。 It ran thus：
〃I have thought much of what you have so often said； that it would
be for the happiness of both if our unfortunate engagement were set
aside。 That you have a real affection for me I believe； and be
assured that I once had a real affection for you； not； perhaps； the
passionate love which a nature so exacting as yours demands； and
which I earnestly hope it may one day find； but a genuine affection
nevertheless； which would have made me proud to share your lot。
But it would be uncandid in me to pretend that this now exists。
Your incessant jealousy； the angry feelings excited by your
reproaches； the fretful irritation in which for some time we have
lived together； has completely killed what love I had； and I no
longer feel prepared to risk the happiness of both of us by a
marriage。 What you said the other night convinces me that it is
even your desire our engagement should cease。 It is certainly
mine。 Let us try to think kindly of each other and meet again as
friends。
AGALMA LIEBENSTEIN。〃
When I had read this and returned it to him； he said：
〃You see that this was written on the day I was taken ill。 Whether
she knew that I was helpless I know not。 At any rate； she never
sent to inquire after me。 She went off to Paris； Korinski followed
her； andas I quickly learned on going once more into society
they were married！ Did you ever； in the whole course of your
experience； hear of such heartless conduct？〃
Bourgonef asked this with a ferocity which quite startled me。 I
did not answer him； for； in truth； I could not see that Agalma had
been very much to blame； even as he told the story； and felt sure
that could I have heard her version it would have worn a very
different aspect。 That she was cold； and disappointed him； might
be true enough； but there was no crime； and I perfectly understood
how thoroughly odious he must have made himself to her by his
exactions and reproaches。 I understood this； perhaps； all the
better； because in the course of his narrative Bourgonef had
revealed to me aspects of his nature which were somewhat repulsive。
Especially was I struck with his morbid vanity； and his readiness
to impute low motives to others。 This unpleasant view of his
charactera character in many respects so admirable for its
generosity and refinementwas deepened as he went on； instead of
awaiting my reply to his question。
〃For a wrong so measureless； you will naturally ask what
measureless revenge I sought。〃
The idea had not occurred to me； indeed I could see no wrong； and
this notion of revenge was somewhat startling in such a case。
〃I debated it long；〃 he continued。 〃I felt that since I was
prevented from arresting any of the evil to myself； I could at
least mature my plans for an adequate discharge of just
retributions on her。 It reveals the impotence resulting from the
trammels of modern civilization； that while the possibilities of
wrong are infinite； the openings for vengeance are few and
contemptible。 Only when a man is thrown upon the necessities of
this 'wild justice' does he discover how difficult vengeance really
is。 Had Agalma been my wife； I could have wreaked my wrath upon
her； with assurance that some of the torture she inflicted on me
was to fall on her。 Not having this power what was I to do？ Kill
her？ That would have afforded one moment of exquisite
satisfactionbut to her it would have been simply deathand I
wanted to kill the heart。〃
He seemed working with an insane passion； so that I regarded him
with disgust； mingled with some doubts as to what horrors he was
about to relate。
〃My plan was chosen。 The only way to reach her heart was to strike
through her husband。 For several hours daily I practised with the
pistol； untilin spite of only having a left handI acquired
fatal skill。 But this was not enough。 Firing at a mark is simple
work。 Firing at a manespecially one holding a pistol pointed at
youis altogether different。 I had too often heard of 'crack
shots' missing their men； to rely confidently on my skill in the
shooting gallery。 It was necessary that my eye and hand should be
educated to familiarity with the real object。 Part of the cause
why duelists miss their man is from the trepidation of fear。 I was
without fear。 At no moment in my life have I been afraid； and the
chance of being shot by Korinski I counted as nothing。 The other
cause is unfamiliarity with the mark。 This I secured myself
against by getting a lay figure of Korinski's height； dressing it
to resemble him； placing a pistol in its hand； and then practising
at this mark in the woods。 After a short time I could send a
bullet through the thorax without taking more than a hasty glance
at the figure。
〃Thus prepared； I started for Paris。 But you will feel for me when
you learn that my hungry heart was baffled of its vengeance； and
baffled for ever。 Agalma had been carried off by scarlet fever。
Korinski had left Paris； and I felt no strong promptings to follow
him； and wreak on him a futile vengeance。 It was on HER my wrath
had been concentrated； and I gnashed my teeth at the thought that
she had escaped me。
〃My story is ended。 The months of gloomy depression which
succeeded； now that I was no longer sustained by the hope of
vengeance； I need not speak of。 My existence was desolate； and
even now the desolation continues over the whole region of the
emotions。 I carry a dead heart within me。〃
VIII
A SECOND VICTIM
Bourgonef's story has been narrated with some fullness； though in
less detail than he told it； in order that the reader may
understand its real bearings on MY story。 Without it； the motives
which impelled the strange pertinacity of my pursuit would have
been unintelligible。 I have said that a very disagreeable
impression remained on my mind respecting certain aspects of his
character； and I felt somewhat ashamed of my imperfect sagacity in
having up to this period been entirely blind to those aspects。 The
truth is； every human being is a mystery； and remains so to the
last。 We fa