As we sat in the garden dusk, the scent of our pipes mingling with that
of roses, N--- said to me in a laughing tone: "Come now, tell me how you
felt when you first heard of your legacy?" And I could not tell him; I
had nothing to say; no vivid recollection of the moment would come back
to me. I am afraid N--- thought he had been indiscreet, for he passed
quickly to another subject. Thinking it over now, I see, of course, that
it would be impossible to put into words the feeling of that supreme
moment of life. It was not joy that possessed me; I did not exult; I did
not lose control of myself in any way. But I remember drawing one or two
deep sighs, as if all at once relieved of some distressing burden or
constraint. Only some hours after did I begin to feel any kind of
agitation. That night I did not close my eyes; the night after I slept
longer and more soundly than I remember to have done for a score of
years. Once or twice in the first week I had a hysterical feeling; I
scarce kept myself from shedding tears. And the strange thing is that it
seems to have happened so long ago; I seem to have been a free man for
many a twelvemonth, instead of only for two. Indeed, that is what I have
often thought about forms of true happiness; the brief are quite as
satisfying as those that last long. I wanted, before my death, to enjoy
liberty from care, and repose in a place I love. That was granted me;
and, had I known it only for one whole year, the sum of my enjoyment
would have been no whit less than if I live to savour it for a decade.



XXIV.


The honest fellow who comes to dig in my garden is puzzled to account for