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diff --git a/old/thtnm10.txt b/old/thtnm10.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 77abe35..0000000 --- a/old/thtnm10.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,22731 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Honor of the Name, by Emile Gaboriau - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check -the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! - -Please take a look at the important information in this header. -We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an -electronic path open for the next readers. - -Please do not remove this. - -This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. -Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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Hart -and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] -[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales -of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or -software or any other related product without express permission.] - -*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* - - - - - -Etext prepared by David, dmoynihan@blackmask.com - and Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com - - - - - - - -THE HONOR OF THE NAME - -by EMILE GABORIAU - - - - -THE HONOR OF THE NAME - - - -CHAPTER I - -On the first Sunday in the month of August, 1815, at ten o'clock -precisely--as on every Sunday morning--the sacristan of the parish -church at Sairmeuse sounded the three strokes of the bell which warn -the faithful that the priest is ascending the steps of the altar to -celebrate high mass. - -The church was already more than half full, and from every side little -groups of peasants were hurrying into the church-yard. The women were -all in their bravest attire, with cunning little /fichus/ crossed upon -their breasts, broad-striped, brightly colored skirts, and large white -coifs. - -Being as economical as they were coquettish, they came barefooted, -bringing their shoes in their hands, but put them on reverentially -before entering the house of God. - -But few of the men entered the church. They remained outside to talk, -seating themselves in the porch, or standing about the yard, in the -shade of the century-old elms. - -For such was the custom in the hamlet of Sairmeuse. - -The two hours which the women consecrated to prayer the men employed -in discussing the news, the success or the failure of the crops; and, -before the service ended, they could generally be found, glass in -hand, in the bar-room of the village inn. - -For the farmers for a league around, the Sunday mass was only an -excuse for a reunion, a sort of weekly bourse. - -All the cures who had been successively stationed at Sairmeuse had -endeavored to put an end to this scandalous habit, as they termed it; -but all their efforts had made no impression upon country obstinacy. - -They had succeeded in gaining only one concession. At the moment of -the elevation of the Host, voices were hushed, heads uncovered, and a -few even bowed the knee and made the sign of the cross. - -But this was the affair of an instant only, and conversation was -immediately resumed with increased vivacity. - -But to-day the usual animation was wanting. - -No sounds came from the little knots of men gathered here and there, -not an oath, not a laugh. Between buyers and sellers, one did not -overhear a single one of those interminable discussions, punctuated -with the popular oaths, such as: "By my faith in God!" or "May the -devil burn me!" - -They were not talking, they were whispering together. A gloomy sadness -was visible upon each face; lips were placed cautiously at the -listener's ear; anxiety could be read in every eye. - -One scented misfortune in the very air. Only a month had elapsed since -Louis XVIII. had been, for the second time, installed in the Tuileries -by a triumphant coalition. - -The earth had not yet had time to swallow the sea of blood that flowed -at Waterloo; twelve hundred thousand foreign soldiers desecrated the -soil of France; the Prussian General Muffling was Governor of Paris. - -And the peasantry of Sairmeuse trembled with indignation and fear. - -This king, brought back by the allies, was no less to be dreaded than -the allies themselves. - -To them this great name of Bourbon signified only a terrible burden of -taxation and oppression. - -Above all, it signified ruin--for there was scarcely one among them -who had not purchased some morsel of government land; and they were -assured now that all estates were to be returned to the former -proprietors, who had emigrated after the overthrow of the Bourbons. - -Hence, it was with a feverish curiosity that most of them clustered -around a young man who, only two days before, had returned from the -army. - -With tears of rage in his eyes, he was recounting the shame and the -misery of the invasion. - -He told of the pillage at Versailles, the exactions at Orleans, and -the pitiless requisitions that had stripped the people of everything. - -"And these accursed foreigners to whom the traitors have delivered us, -will not go so long as a shilling or a bottle of wine is left in -France!" he exclaimed. - -As he said this he shook his clinched fist menacingly at a white flag -that floated from the tower. - -His generous anger won the close attention of his auditors, and they -were still listening to him with undiminished interest, when the sound -of a horse's hoofs resounded upon the stones of the only street in -Sairmeuse. - -A shudder traversed the crowd. The same fear stopped the beating of -every heart. - -Who could say that this rider was not some English or Prussian -officer? He had come, perhaps, to announce the arrival of his -regiment, and imperiously demand money, clothing, and food for his -soldiers. - -But the suspense was not of long duration. - -The rider proved to be a fellow-countryman, clad in a torn and dirty -blue linen blouse. He was urging forward, with repeated blows, a -little, bony, nervous mare, fevered with foam. - -"Ah! it is Father Chupin," murmured one of the peasants with a sigh of -relief. - -"The same," observed another. "He seems to be in a terrible hurry." - -"The old rascal has probably stolen the horse he is riding." - -This last remark disclosed the reputation Father Chupin enjoyed among -his neighbors. - -He was, indeed, one of those thieves who are the scourge and the -terror of the rural districts. He pretended to be a day-laborer, but -the truth was, that he held work in holy horror, and spent all his -time in sleeping and idling about his hovel. Hence, stealing was the -only means of support for himself, his wife, two sons--terrible -youths, who, somehow, had escaped the conscription. - -They consumed nothing that was not stolen. Wheat, wine, fuel, fruits-- -all were the rightful property of others. Hunting and fishing at all -seasons, and with forbidden appliances, furnished them with ready -money. - -Everyone in the neighborhood knew this; and yet when Father Chupin was -pursued and captured, as he was occasionally, no witness could be -found to testify against him. - -"He is a hard case," men said; "and if he had a grudge against anyone, -he would be quite capable of lying in ambush and shooting him as he -would a squirrel." - -Meanwhile the rider had drawn rein at the inn of the Boeuf Couronne. - -He alighted from his horse, and, crossing the square, approached the -church. - -He was a large man, about fifty years of age, as gnarled and sinewy as -the stem of an old grape-vine. At the first glance one would not have -taken him for a scoundrel. His manner was humble, and even gentle; but -the restlessness of his eye and the expression of his thin lips -betrayed diabolical cunning and the coolest calculation. - -At any other time this despised and dreaded individual would have been -avoided; but curiosity and anxiety led the crowd toward him. - -"Ah, well, Father Chupin!" they cried, as soon as he was within the -sound of their voices; "whence do you come in such haste?" - -"From the city." - -To the inhabitants of Sairmeuse and its environs, "the city" meant the -country town of the /arrondissement/, Montaignac, a charming sub- -prefecture of eight thousand souls, about four leagues distant. - -"And was it at Montaignac that you bought the horse you were riding -just now?" - -"I did not buy it; it was loaned to me." - -This was such a strange assertion that his listeners could not repress -a smile. He did not seem to notice it, however. - -"It was loaned me," he continued, "in order that I might bring some -great news here the quicker." - -Fear resumed possession of the peasantry. - -"Is the enemy in the city?" anxiously inquired some of the more timid. - -"Yes; but not the enemy you refer to. This is the former lord of the -manor, the Duc de Sairmeuse." - -"Ah! they said he was dead." - -"They were mistaken." - -"Have you seen him?" - -"No, I have not seen him, but someone else has seen him for me, and -has spoken to him. And this someone is Monsieur Laugeron, the -proprietor of the Hotel de France at Montaignac. I was passing the -house this morning, when he called me. 'Here, old man,' he said, 'do -you wish to do me a favor?' Naturally I replied: 'Yes.' Whereupon he -placed a coin in my hand and said: 'Well! go and tell them to saddle a -horse for you, then gallop to Sairmeuse, and tell my friend Lacheneur -that the Duc de Sairmeuse arrived here last night in a post-chaise, -with his son, Monsieur Martial, and two servants.'" - -Here, in the midst of these peasants, who were listening to him with -pale cheeks and set teeth, Father Chupin preserved the subdued mien -appropriate to a messenger of misfortune. - -But if one had observed him carefully, one would have detected an -ironical smile upon his lips and a gleam of malicious joy in his eyes. - -He was, in fact, inwardly jubilant. At that moment he had his revenge -for all the slights and all the scorn he had been forced to endure. -And what a revenge! - -And if his words seemed to fall slowly and reluctantly from his lips, -it was only because he was trying to prolong the sufferings of his -auditors as much as possible. - -But a robust young fellow, with an intelligent face, who, perhaps, -read Father Chupin's secret heart, brusquely interrupted him: - -"What does the presence of the Duc de Sairmeuse at Montaignac matter -to us?" he exclaimed. "Let him remain at the Hotel de France as long -as he chooses; we shall not go in search of him." - -"No! we shall not go in search of him," echoed the other peasants, -approvingly. - -The old rogue shook his head with affected commiseration. - -"Monsieur le Duc will not put you to that trouble," he replied; "he -will be here in less than two hours." - -"How do you know?" - -"I know it through Monsieur Laugeron, who, when I mounted his horse, -said to me: 'Above all, old man, explain to my friend Lacheneur that -the duke has ordered horses to be in readiness to convey him to -Sairmeuse at eleven o'clock.'" - -With a common movement, all the peasants who had watches consulted -them. - -"And what does he want here?" demanded the same young farmer. - -"Pardon! he did not tell me," replied Father Chupin; "but one need not -be very cunning to guess. He comes to revisit his former estates, and -to take them from those who have purchased them, if possible. From -you, Rousselet, he will claim the meadows upon the Oiselle, which -always yield two crops; from you, Father Gauchais, the ground upon -which the Croix-Brulee stands; from you, Chanlouineau, the vineyards -on the Borderie----" - -Chanlouineau was the impetuous young man who had interrupted Father -Chupin twice already. - -"Claim the Borderie!" he exclaimed, with even greater violence; "let -him try, and we will see. It was waste land when my father bought it-- -covered with briers; even a goat could not have found pasture there. -We have cleared it of stones, we have scratched up the soil with our -very nails, we have watered it with our sweat, and now they would try -to take it from us! Ah! they shall have my last drop of blood first!" - -"I do not say but----" - -"But what? Is it any fault of ours that the nobles fled to foreign -lands? We have not stolen their lands, have we? The government offered -them for sale; we bought them, and paid for them; they are lawfully -ours." - -"That is true; but Monsieur de Sairmeuse is the great friend of the -king." - -The young soldier, whose voice had aroused the most noble sentiments -only a moment before, was forgotten. - -Invaded France, the threatening enemy, were alike forgotten. The all- -powerful instinct of avarice was suddenly aroused. - -"In my opinion," resumed Chanlouineau, "we should do well to consult -the Baron d'Escorval." - -"Yes, yes!" exclaimed the peasants; "let us go at once!" - -They were starting, when a villager who sometimes read the papers, -checked them by saying: - -"Take care what you do. Do you not know that since the return of the -Bourbons Monsieur d'Escorval is of no account whatever? Fouche has him -upon the proscription list, and he is under the surveillance of the -police." - -This objection dampened the enthusiasm. - -"That is true," murmured some of the older men; "a visit to Monsieur -d'Escorval would, perhaps, do us more harm than good. And, besides, -what advice could he give us?" - -Chanlouineau had forgotten all prudence. - -"What of that?" he exclaimed. "If Monsieur d'Escorval has no counsel -to give us about this matter, he can, perhaps, teach us how to resist -and to defend ourselves." - -For some moments Father Chupin had been studying, with an impassive -countenance, the storm of anger he had aroused. In his secret heart he -experienced the satisfaction of the incendiary at the sight of the -flames he has kindled. - -Perhaps he already had a presentiment of the infamous part he would -play a few months later. - -Satisfied with his experiment, he assumed, for the time, the role of -moderator. - -"Wait a little. Do not cry before you are hurt," he exclaimed, in an -ironical tone. "Who told you that the Duc de Sairmeuse would trouble -you? How much of his former domain do you all own between you? Almost -nothing. A few fields and meadows and a hill on the Borderie. All -these together did not in former times yield him an income of five -thousand francs a year." - -"Yes, that is true," replied Chanlouineau; "and if the revenue you -mention is quadrupled, it is only because the land is now in the hands -of forty proprietors who cultivate it themselves." - -"Another reason why the duke will not say a word; he will not wish to -set the whole district in commotion. In my opinion, he will dispossess -only one of the owners of his former estates, and that is our worthy -ex-mayor--Monsieur Lacheneur, in short." - -Ah! he knew only too well the egotism of his compatriots. He knew with -what complacency and eagerness they would accept an expiatory victim -whose sacrifice should be their salvation. - -"That is a fact," remarked an old man; "Monsieur Lacheneur owns nearly -all the Sairmeuse property." - -"Say all, while you are about it," rejoined Father Chupin. "Where does -Monsieur Lacheneur live? In that beautiful Chateau de Sairmeuse whose -gable we can see there through the trees. He hunts in the forests -which once belonged to the Ducs de Sairmeuse; he fishes in their -lakes; he drives the horses which once belonged to them, in the -carriages upon which one could now see their coat-of-arms, if it had -not been painted out. - -"Twenty years ago, Lacheneur was a poor devil like myself; now, he is -a grand gentleman with fifty thousand livres a year. He wears the -finest broadcloth and top-boots like the Baron d'Escorval. He no -longer works; he makes others work; and when he passes, everyone must -bow to the earth. If you kill so much as a sparrow upon his lands, as -he says, he will cast you into prison. Ah, he has been fortunate. The -emperor made him mayor. The Bourbons deprived him of his office; but -what does that matter to him? He is still the real master here, as the -Sairmeuse were in other days. His son is pursuing his studies in -Paris, intending to become a notary. As for his daughter, Mademoiselle -Marie-Anne--" - -"Not a word against her!" exclaimed Chanlouineau; "if she were -mistress, there would not be a poor man in the country; and yet, how -some of her pensioners abuse her bounty. Ask your wife if this is not -so, Father Chupin." - -Undoubtedly the impetuous young man spoke at the peril of his life. - -But the wicked old Chupin swallowed this affront which he would never -forget, and humbly continued: - -"I do not say that Mademoiselle Marie-Anne is not generous; but after -all her charitable work she has plenty of money left for her fine -dresses and her fallals. I think that Monsieur Lacheneur ought to be -very well content, even after he has restored to its former owner one- -half or even three-quarters of the property he has acquired--no one -can tell how. He would have enough left then to grind the poor under -foot." - -After his appeal to selfishness, Father Chupin appealed to envy. There -could be no doubt of his success. - -But he had not time to pursue his advantage. The services were over, -and the worshippers were leaving the church. - -Soon there appeared upon the porch the man in question, with a young -girl of dazzling beauty leaning upon his arm. - -Father Chupin walked straight toward him, and brusquely delivered his -message. - -M. Lacheneur staggered beneath the blow. He turned first so red, then -so frightfully pale, that those around him thought he was about to -fall. - -But he quickly recovered his self-possession, and without a word to -the messenger, he walked rapidly away, leading his daughter. - -Some minutes later an old post-chaise, drawn by four horses, dashed -through the village at a gallop, and paused before the house of the -village cure. - -Then one might have witnessed a singular spectacle. - -Father Chupin had gathered his wife and his children together, and the -four surrounded the carriage, shouting, with all the power of their -lungs: - -"Long live the Duc de Sairmeuse!" - - - -CHAPTER II - -A gently ascending road, more than two miles in length, shaded by a -quadruple row of venerable elms, led from the village to the Chateau -de Sairmeuse. - -Nothing could be more beautiful than this avenue, a fit approach to a -palace; and the stranger who beheld it could understand the naively -vain proverb of the country: "He does not know the real beauty of -France, who has never seen Sairmeuse nor the Oiselle." - -The Oiselle is the little river which one crosses by means of a wooden -bridge on leaving the village, and whose clear and rapid waters give a -delicious freshness to the valley. - -At every step, as one ascends, the view changes. It is as if an -enchanting panorama were being slowly unrolled before one. - -On the right you can see the saw-mills of Fereol. On the left, like an -ocean of verdure, the forest of Dolomien trembles in the breeze. Those -imposing ruins on the other side of the river are all that remain of -the feudal manor of the house of Breulh. That red brick mansion, with -granite trimmings, half concealed by a bend in the river, belongs to -the Baron d'Escorval. - -And, if the day is clear, one can easily distinguish the spires of -Montaignac in the distance. - -This was the path traversed by M. Lacheneur after Chupin had delivered -his message. - -But what did he care for the beauties of the landscape! - -Upon the church porch he had received his death-wound; and now, with a -tottering and dragging step, he dragged himself along like one of -those poor soldiers, mortally wounded upon the field of battle, who go -back, seeking a ditch or quiet spot where they can lie down and die. - -He seemed to have lost all thought of his surroundings--all -consciousness of previous events. He pursued his way, lost in his -reflections, guided only by force of habit. - -Two or three times his daughter, Marie-Anne, who was walking by his -side, addressed him; but an "Ah! let me alone!" uttered in a harsh -tone, was the only response she could draw from him. - -Evidently he had received a terrible blow; and undoubtedly, as often -happens under such circumstances, the unfortunate man was reviewing -all the different phases of his life. - -At twenty Lacheneur was only a poor ploughboy in the service of the -Sairmeuse family. - -His ambition was modest then. When stretched beneath a tree at the -hour of noonday rest, his dreams were as simple as those of an infant. - -"If I could but amass a hundred pistoles," he thought, "I would ask -Father Barrois for the hand of his daughter Martha; and he would not -refuse me." A hundred pistoles! A thousand francs!--an enormous sum -for him who, in two years of toil and privation had only laid by -eleven louis, which he had placed carefully in a tiny box and hidden -in the depths of his straw mattress. - -Still he did not despair. He had read in Martha's eyes that she would -wait. - -And Mlle. Armande de Sairmeuse, a rich old maid, was his god-mother; -and he thought, if he attacked her adroitly, that he might, perhaps, -interest her in his love-affair. - -Then the terrible storm of the revolution burst over France. - -With the fall of the first thunder-bolts, the Duke of Sairmeuse left -France with the Count d'Artois. They took refuge in foreign lands as a -passer-by seeks shelter in a doorway from a summer shower, saying to -himself: "This will not last long." - -The storm did last, however; and the following year Mlle. Armande, who -had remained at Sairmeuse, died. - -The chateau was then closed, the president of the district took -possession of the keys in the name of the government, and the servants -were scattered. - -Lacheneur took up his residence in Montaignac. - -Young, daring, and personally attractive, blessed with an energetic -face, and an intelligence far above his station, it was not long -before he became well known in the political clubs. - -For three months Lacheneur was the tyrant of Montaignac. - -But this metier of public speaker is by no means lucrative, so the -surprise throughout the district was immense, when it was ascertained -that the former ploughboy had purchased the chateau, and almost all -the land belonging to his old master. - -It is true that the nation had sold this princely domain for scarcely -a twentieth part of its real value. The appraisement was sixty-nine -thousand francs. It was giving the property away. - -And yet, it was necessary to have this amount, and Lacheneur possessed -it, since he had poured it in a flood of beautiful louis d'or into the -hands of the receiver of the district. - -From that moment his popularity waned. The patriots who had applauded -the ploughboy, cursed the capitalist. He discreetly left them to -recover from their rage as best they could, and returned to Sairmeuse. -There everyone bowed low before Citoyen Lacheneur. - -Unlike most people, he did not forget his past hopes at the moment -when they might be realized. - -He married Martha Barrois, and, leaving the country to work out its -own salvation without his assistance, he gave his time and attention -to agriculture. - -Any close observer, in those days, would have felt certain that the -man was bewildered by the sudden change in his situation. - -His manner was so troubled and anxious that one, to see him, would -have supposed him a servant in constant fear of being detected in some -indiscretion. - -He did not open the chateau, but installed himself and his young wife -in the cottage formerly occupied by the head game-keeper, near the -entrance of the park. - -But, little by little, with the habit of possession, came assurance. - -The Consulate had succeeded the Directory, the Empire succeeded the -Consulate, Citoyen Lacheneur became M. Lacheneur. - -Appointed mayor two years later, he left the cottage and took -possession of the chateau. - -The former ploughboy slumbered in the bed of the Ducs de Sairmeuse; he -ate from the massive plate, graven with their coat-of-arms; he -received his visitors in the magnificent salon in which the Ducs de -Sairmeuse had received their friends in years gone by. - -To those who had known him in former days, M. Lacheneur had become -unrecognizable. He had adapted himself to his lofty station. Blushing -at his own ignorance; he had found the courage--wonderful in one of -his age--to acquire the education which he lacked. - -Then, all his undertakings were successful to such a degree that his -good fortune had become proverbial. That he took any part in an -enterprise, sufficed to make it turn out well. - -His wife had given him two lovely children, a son and a daughter. - -His property, managed with a shrewdness and sagacity which the former -owners had not possessed, yielded him an income of at least sixty -thousand francs. - -How many, under similar circumstances, would have lost their heads! -But he, M. Lacheneur, had been wise enough to retain his /sang-froid/. - -In spite of the princely luxury that surrounded him, his own habits -were simple and frugal. He had never had an attendant for his own -person. His large income he consecrated almost entirely to the -improvement of his estate or to the purchase of more land. And yet, he -was not avaricious. In all that concerned his wife or children, he did -not count the cost. His son, Jean, had been educated in Paris; he -wished him to be fitted for any position. Unwilling to consent to a -separation from his daughter, he had procured a governess to take -charge of her education. - -Sometimes his friends accused him of an inordinate ambition for his -children; but he always shook his head sadly, as he replied: - -"If /I/ can only insure them a modest and comfortable future! But what -folly it is to count upon the future. Thirty years ago, who could have -foreseen that the Sairmeuse family would be deprived of their -estates?" - -With such opinions he should have been a good master; he was, but no -one thought the better of him on that account. His former comrades -could not forgive him for his sudden elevation. - -They seldom spoke of him without wishing his ruin in ambiguous words. - -Alas! the evil days came. Toward the close of the year 1812, he lost -his wife, the disasters of the year 1813 swept away a large portion of -his personal fortune, which had been invested in a manufacturing -enterprise. - -Compromised by the first Restoration, he was obliged to conceal -himself for a time; and to cap the climax, the conduct of his son, who -was still in Paris, caused him serious disquietude. - -Only the evening before, he had thought himself the most unfortunate -of men. - -But here was another misfortune menacing him; a misfortune so terrible -that all the others were forgotten. - -From the day on which he had purchased Sairmeuse to this fatal Sunday -in August, 1815, was an interval of twenty years. - -Twenty years! And it seemed to him only yesterday that, blushing and -trembling, he had laid those piles of louis d'or upon the desk of the -receiver of the district. - -Had he dreamed it? - -He had not dreamed it. His entire life, with its struggles and its -miseries, its hopes and its fears, its unexpected joys and its -blighted hopes, all passed before him. - -Lost in these memories, he had quite forgotten the present situation, -when a commonplace incident, more powerful than the voice of his -daughter, brought him back to the terrible reality. The gate leading -to the Chateau de Sairmeuse, to /his/ chateau, was found to be locked. - -He shook it with a sort of rage; and, being unable to break the -fastening, he found some relief in breaking the bell. - -On hearing the noise, the gardener came running to the scene of -action. - -"Why is this gate closed?" demanded M. Lacheneur, with unwonted -violence of manner. "By what right do you barricade my house when I, -the master, am without?" - -The gardener tried to make some excuse. - -"Hold your tongue!" interrupted M. Lacheneur. "I dismiss you; you are -no longer in my service." - -He passed on, leaving the gardener petrified with astonishment, -crossed the court-yard--a court-yard worthy of the mansion, bordered -with velvet turf, with flowers, and with dense shrubbery. - -In the vestibule, inlaid with marble, three of his tenants sat -awaiting him, for it was on Sunday that he always received the workmen -who desired to confer with him. - -They rose at his approach, and removed their hats deferentially. But -he did not give them time to utter a word. - -"Who permitted you to enter here?" he said, savagely, "and what do you -desire? They sent you to play the spy on me, did they? Leave, I tell -you!" - -The three farmers were even more bewildered and dismayed than the -gardener had been, and their remarks must have been interesting. - -But M. Lacheneur could not hear them. He had opened the door of the -grand salon, and dashed in, followed by his frightened daughter. - -Never had Marie-Anne seen her father in such a mood; and she trembled, -her heart torn by the most frightful presentiments. - -She had heard it said that oftentimes, under the influence of some -dire calamity, unfortunate men have suddenly lost their reason -entirely; and she was wondering if her father had become insane. - -It would seem, indeed, that such was the case. His eyes flashed, -convulsive shudders shook his whole body, a white foam gathered on his -lips. - -He made the circuit of the room as a wild beast makes the circuit of -his cage, uttering harsh imprecations and making frenzied gestures. - -His actions were strange, incomprehensible. Sometimes he seemed to be -trying the thickness of the carpet with the toe of his boot; sometimes -he threw himself upon a sofa or a chair, as if to test its softness. - -Occasionally, he paused abruptly before some one of the valuable -pictures that covered the walls, or before a bronze. One might have -supposed that he was taking an inventory, and appraising all the -magnificent and costly articles which decorated this apartment, the -most sumptuous in the chateau. - -"And I must renounce all this!" he exclaimed, at last. - -These words explained everything. - -"No, never!" he resumed, in a transport of rage; "never! never! I -cannot! I will not!" - -Now Marie-Anne understood it all. But what was passing in her father's -mind? She wished to know; and, leaving the low chair in which she had -been seated, she went to her father's side. - -"Are you ill, father?" she asked, in her sweet voice; "what is the -matter? What do you fear? Why do you not confide in me?-- Am I not -your daughter? Do you no longer love me?" - -At the sound of this dear voice, M. Lacheneur trembled like a sleeper -suddenly aroused from the terrors of a nightmare, and he cast an -indescribable glance upon his daughter. - -"Did you not hear what Chupin said to me?" he replied, slowly. "The -Duc de Sairmeuse is at Montaignac; he will soon be here; and we are -dwelling in the chateau of his fathers, and his domain has become -ours!" - -The vexed question regarding the national lands, which agitated France -for thirty years, Marie understood, for she had heard it discussed a -thousand times. - -"Ah, well, dear father," said she, "what does that matter, even if we -do hold the property? You have bought it and paid for it, have you -not? So it is rightfully and lawfully ours." - -M. Lacheneur hesitated a moment before replying. - -But his secret suffocated him. He was in one of those crises in which -a man, however strong he may be, totters and seeks some support, -however fragile. - -"You would be right, my daughter," he murmured, with drooping head, -"if the money that I gave in exchange for Sairmeuse had really -belonged to me." - -At this strange avowal the young girl turned pale and recoiled a step. - -"What?" she faltered; "this gold was not yours, my father? To whom did -it belong? From whence did it come?" - -The unhappy man had gone too far to retract. - -"I will tell you all, my daughter," he replied, "and you shall judge. -You shall decide. When the Sairmeuse family fled from France, I had -only my hands to depend upon, and as it was almost impossible to -obtain work, I wondered if starvation were not near at hand. - -"Such was my condition when someone came after me one evening to tell -me that Mademoiselle Armande de Sairmeuse, my godmother, was dying, -and wished to speak with me. I ran to the chateau. - -"The messenger had told the truth. Mademoiselle Armande was sick unto -death. I felt this on seeing her upon her bed, whiter than wax. - -"Ah! if I were to live a hundred years, never should I forget her face -as it looked at that moment. It was expressive of a strength of will -and an energy that would hold death at bay until the task upon which -she had determined was performed. - -"When I entered the room I saw a look of relief appear upon her -countenance. - -"'How long you were in coming!' she murmured faintly. - -"I was about to make some excuse, when she motioned me to pause, and -ordered the women who surrounded her to leave the room. - -"As soon as we were alone: - -"'You are an honest boy,', said she, 'and I am about to give you a -proof of my confidence. People believe me to be poor, but they are -mistaken. While my relatives were gayly ruining themselves, I was -saving the five hundred louis which the duke, my brother, gave me each -year.' - -"She motioned me to come nearer, and to kneel beside her bed. - -"I obeyed, and Mademoiselle Armande leaned toward me, almost glued her -lips to my ear, and added: - -"'I possess eighty thousand francs.' - -"I felt a sudden giddiness, but my godmother did not notice it. - -"'This amount,' she continued, 'is not a quarter part of the former -income from our family estates. But now, who knows but it will, one -day, be the only resource of the Sairmeuse? I am going to place it in -your charge, Lacheneur. I confide it to your honor and to your -devotion. The estates belonging to the emigrants are to be sold, I -hear. If such an act of injustice is committed, you will probably be -able to purchase our property for seventy thousand francs. If the -property is sold by the government, purchase it; if the lands -belonging to the emigrants are not sold, take that amount to the duke, -my brother, who is with the Count d'Artois. The surplus, that is to -say, the ten thousand francs remaining, I give to you--they are -yours.' - -"She seemed to recover her strength. She raised herself in bed, and, -holding the crucifix attached to her rosary to my lips, she said: - -"'Swear by the image of our Saviour, that you will faithfully execute -the last will of your dying godmother.' - -"I took the required oath, and an expression of satisfaction -overspread her features. - -"'That is well,' she said; 'I shall die content. You will have a -protector on high. But this is not all. In times like these in which -we live, this gold will not be safe in your hands unless those about -you are ignorant that you possess it. I have been endeavoring to -discover some way by which you could remove it from my room, and from -the chateau, without the knowledge of anyone; and I have found a way. -The gold is here in this cupboard, at the head of my bed, in a stout -oaken chest. You must find strength to move the chest--you must. You -can fasten a sheet around it and let it down gently from the window -into the garden. You will then leave the house as you entered it, and -as soon as you are outside, you must take the chest and carry it to -your home. The night is very dark, and no one will see you, if you are -careful. But make haste; my strength is nearly gone.' - -"The chest was heavy, but I was very strong. - -"In less than ten minutes the task of removing the chest from the -chateau was accomplished, without a single sound that would betray us. -As I closed the window, I said: - -"'It is done, godmother.' - -"'God be praised!' she whispered; 'Sairmeuse is saved!' - -"I heard a deep sigh. I turned; she was dead." - -This scene that M. Lacheneur was relating rose vividly before him. - -To feign, to disguise the truth, or to conceal any portion of it was -an impossibility. - -He forgot himself and his daughter; he thought only of the dead woman, -of Mlle. Armande de Sairmeuse. - -And he shuddered on pronouncing the words: "She was dead." It seemed -to him that she was about to speak, and to insist upon the fulfilment -of his pledge. - -After a moment's silence, he resumed, in a hollow voice: - -"I called for aid; it came. Mademoiselle Armande was adored by -everyone; there was great lamentation, and a half hour of -indescribable confusion followed her death. I was able to withdraw, -unnoticed, to run into the garden, and to carry away the oaken chest. -An hour later, it was concealed in the miserable hovel in which I -dwelt. The following year I purchased Sairmeuse." - -He had confessed all; and he paused, trembling, trying to read his -sentence in the eyes of his daughter. - -"And can you hesitate?" she demanded. - -"Ah! you do not know----" - -"I know that Sairmeuse must be given up." - -This was the decree of his own conscience, that faint voice which -speaks only in a whisper, but which all the tumult on earth cannot -overpower. - -"No one saw me take away the chest," he faltered. "If anyone suspected -it, there is not a single proof against me. But no one does suspect -it." - -Marie-Anne rose, her eyes flashed with generous indignation. - -"My father!" she exclaimed; "oh! my father!" - -Then, in a calmer tone, she added: - -"If others know nothing of this, can /you/ forget it?" - -M. Lacheneur appeared almost ready to succumb to the torture of the -terrible conflict raging in his soul. - -"Return!" he exclaimed. "What shall I return? That which I have -received? So be it. I consent. I will give the duke the eighty -thousand francs; to this amount I will add the interest on this sum -since I have had it, and--we shall be free of all obligation." - -The girl sadly shook her head. - -"Why do you resort to subterfuges which are so unworthy of you?" she -asked, gently. "You know perfectly well that it was Sairmeuse which -Mademoiselle Armande intended to intrust to the servant of her house. -And it is Sairmeuse which must be returned." - -The word "servant" was revolting to a man, who, at least, while the -empire endured, had been a power in the land. - -"Ah! you are cruel, my daughter," he said, with intense bitterness; -"as cruel as a child who has never suffered--as cruel as one who, -having never himself been tempted, is without mercy for those who have -yielded to temptation. - -"It is one of those acts which God alone can judge, since God alone -can read the depths of one's secret soul. - -"I am only a depositary, you tell me. It was, indeed, in this light -that I formerly regarded myself. - -"If your poor sainted mother was still alive, she would tell you the -anxiety and anguish I felt on being made the master of riches which -were not mine. I trembled lest I should yield to their seductions; I -was afraid of myself. I felt as a gambler might feel who had the -winnings of others confided to his care; as a drunkard might feel who -had been placed in charge of a quantity of the most delicious wines. - -"Your mother would tell you that I moved heaven and earth to find the -Duc de Sairmeuse. But he had left the Count d'Artois, and no one knew -where he had gone or what had become of him. Ten years passed before I -could make up my mind to inhabit the chateau--yes, ten years--during -which I had the furniture dusted each morning as if the master was to -return that evening. - -"At last I ventured. I had heard Monsieur d'Escorval declare that the -duke had been killed in battle. I took up my abode here. And from day -to day, in proportion as the domain of Sairmeuse became more beautiful -and extensive beneath my care, I felt myself more and more its -rightful owner." - -But this despairing pleading in behalf of a bad cause produced no -impression upon Marie-Anne's loyal heart. - -"Restitution must be made," she repeated. M. Lacheneur wrung his -hands. - -"Implacable!" he exclaimed; "she is implacable. Unfortunate girl! does -she not understand that it is for her sake I wish to remain where I -am? I am old, and I am familiar with toil and poverty; idleness has -not removed the callosities from my hands. What do I require to keep -me alive until the day comes for me to take my place in the graveyard? -A crust of bread and an onion in the morning, a porringer of soup in -the evening, and for the night a bundle of straw. I could easily earn -that. But you, unhappy child! and your brother, what will become of -you?" - -"We must not discuss nor haggle with duty, my father. I think, -however, that you are needlessly alarmed. I believe the duke is too -noble-hearted ever to allow you to suffer want after the immense -service you have rendered him." - -The old servitor of the house of Sairmeuse laughed a loud, bitter -laugh. - -"You believe that!" said he; "then you do not know the nobles who have -been our masters for ages. 'A., you are a worthy fellow!'--very coldly -said--will be the only recompense I shall receive; and you will see -us, me, at my plough; you, out at service. And if I venture to speak -of the ten thousand francs that were given me, I shall be treated as -an impostor, as an impudent fool. By the holy name of God this shall -not be!" - -"Oh, my father!" - -"No! this shall not be. And I realize--as you cannot realize--the -disgrace of such a fall. You think you are beloved in Sairmeuse? You -are mistaken. We have been too fortunate not to be the victims of -hatred and jealousy. If I fall to-morrow, you will see all who kissed -your hands to-day fall upon you to tear you to pieces!" - -His eye glittered; he believed he had found a victorious argument. - -"And then you, yourself, will realize the horror of the disgrace. It -will cost you the deadly anguish of a separation from him whom your -heart has chosen." - -He had spoken truly, for Marie-Anne's beautiful eyes filled with -tears. - -"If what you say proves true, father," she murmured, in an altered -voice, "I may, perhaps, die of sorrow; but I cannot fail to realize -that my confidence and my love has been misplaced." - -"And you still insist upon my returning Sairmeuse to its former -owner?" - -"Honor speaks, my father." - -M. Lacheneur made the arm-chair in which he was seated tremble by a -violent blow of his fist. - -"And if I am just as obstinate," he exclaimed--"if I keep the property ---what will you do?" - -"I shall say to myself, father, that honest poverty is better than -stolen wealth. I shall leave this chateau, which belongs to the Duc de -Sairmeuse, and I shall seek a situation as a servant in the -neighborhood." - -M. Lacheneur sank back in his arm-chair sobbing. He knew his -daughter's nature well enough to be assured that what she said, that -she would do. - -But he was conquered; his daughter had won the battle. He had decided -to make the heroic sacrifice. - -"I will relinquish Sairmeuse," he faltered, "come what may----" - -He paused suddenly; a visitor was entering the room. - -It was a young man about twenty years of age, of distinguished -appearance, but with a rather melancholy and gentle manner. - -His eyes when he entered the apartment encountered those of Marie- -Anne; he blushed slightly, and the girl half turned away, crimsoning -to the roots of her hair. - -"Monsieur," said the young man, "my father sends me to inform you that -the Duc de Sairmeuse and his son have just arrived. They have asked -the hospitality of our cure." - -M. Lacheneur rose, unable to conceal his frightful agitation. - -"You will thank the Baron d'Escorval for his attention, my dear -Maurice," he responded. "I shall have the honor of seeing him to-day, -after a very momentous step which we are about to take, my daughter -and I." - -Young d'Escorval had seen, at the first glance, that his presence was -inopportune, so he remained only a few moments. - -But as he was taking leave, Marie-Anne found time to say, in a low -voice: - -"I think I know your heart, Maurice; this evening I shall know it -certainly." - - - -CHAPTER III - -Few of the inhabitants of Sairmeuse knew, except by name, the terrible -duke whose arrival had thrown the whole village into commotion. - -Some of the oldest residents had a faint recollection of having seen -him long ago, before '89 indeed, when he came to visit his aunt, Mlle. -Armande. - -His duties, then, had seldom permitted him to leave the court. - -If he had given no sign of life during the empire, it was because he -had not been compelled to submit to the humiliations and suffering -which so many of the emigrants were obliged to endure in their exile. - -On the contrary, he had received, in exchange for the wealth of which -he had been deprived by the revolution, a princely fortune. - -Taking refuge in London after the defeat of the army of Conde, he had -been so fortunate as to please the only daughter of Lord Holland, one -of the richest peers in England, and he had married her. - -She possessed a fortune of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds -sterling, more than six million francs. - -Still the marriage was not a happy one. The chosen companion of the -dissipated and licentious Count d'Artois was not likely to prove a -very good husband. - -The young duchess was contemplating a separation when she died, in -giving birth to a boy, who was baptized under the names of Anne-Marie- -Martial. - -The loss of his wife did not render the Duc de Sairmeuse inconsolable. - -He was free and richer than he had ever been. - -As soon as /les convenances/ permitted, he confided his son to the -care of a relative of his wife, and began his roving life again. - -Rumor had told the truth. He had fought, and that furiously, against -France in the Austrian, and then in the Russian ranks. - -And he took no pains to conceal the fact; convinced that he had only -performed his duty. He considered that he had honestly and loyally -gained the rank of general which the Emperor of all the Russias had -bestowed upon him. - -He had not returned to France during the first Restoration; but his -absence had been involuntary. His father-in-law, Lord Holland, had -just died, and the duke was detained in London by business connected -with his son's immense inheritance. - -Then followed the "Hundred Days." They exasperated him. - -But "the good cause," as he styled it, having triumphed anew, he -hastened to France. - -Alas! Lacheneur judged the character of his former master correctly, -when he resisted the entreaties of his daughter. - -This man, who had been compelled to conceal himself during the first -Restoration, knew only too well, that the returned /emigres/ had -learned nothing and forgotten nothing. - -The Duc de Sairmeuse was no exception to the rule. - -He thought, and nothing could be more sadly absurd, that a mere act of -authority would suffice to suppress forever all the events of the -Revolution and of the empire. - -When he said: "I do not admit that!" he firmly believed that there was -nothing more to be said; that controversy was ended; and that what -/had/ been was as if it had never been. - -If some, who had seen Louis XVII. at the helm in 1814, assured the -duke that France had changed in many respects since 1789, he responded -with a shrug of the shoulders: - -"Nonsense! As soon as we assert ourselves, all these rascals, whose -rebellion alarms you, will quietly sink out of sight." - -Such was really his opinion. - -On the way from Montaignac to Sairmeuse, the duke, comfortably -ensconced in his berlin, unfolded his theories for the benefit of his -son. - -"The King has been poorly advised," he said, in conclusion. "Besides, -I am disposed to believe that he inclines too much to Jacobinism. If -he would listen to my advice, he would make use of the twelve hundred -thousand soldiers which our friends have placed at his disposal, to -bring his subjects to a sense of their duty. Twelve hundred thousand -bayonets have far more eloquence than the articles of a charter." - -He continued his remarks on this subject until the carriage approached -Sairmeuse. - -Though but little given to sentiment, he was really affected by the -sight of the country in which he was born--where he had played as a -child, and of which he had heard nothing since the death of his aunt. - -Everything was changed: still the outlines of the landscape remained -the same; the valley of the Oiselle was as bright and laughing as in -days gone by. - -"I recognize it!" he exclaimed, with a delight that made him forget -politics. "I recognize it!" - -Soon the changes became more striking. - -The carriage entered Sairmeuse, and rattled over the stones of the -only street in the village. - -This street, in former years, had been unpaved, and had always been -rendered impassable by wet weather. - -"Ah, ha!" murmured the duke, "this is an improvement!" - -It was not long before he noticed others. The dilapidated, thatched -hovels had given place to pretty and comfortable white cottages with -green blinds, and a vine hanging gracefully over the door. - -As the carriage passed the public square in front of the church, -Martial observed the groups of peasants who were still talking there. - -"What do you think of all these peasants?" he inquired of his father. -"Do they have the appearance of people who are preparing a triumphal -reception for their old masters?" - -M. de Sairmeuse shrugged his shoulders. He was not the man to renounce -an illusion for such a trifle. - -"They do not know that I am in this post-chaise," he replied. "When -they know----" - -Shouts of "Vive Monsieur le Duc de Sairmeuse!" interrupted him. - -"Do you hear that, Marquis?" he exclaimed. - -And pleased by these cries that proved him in the right, he leaned -from the carriage-window, waving his hand to the honest Chupin family, -who were running after the vehicle with noisy shouts. - -The old rascal, his wife, and his children, all possessed powerful -voices; and it was not strange that the duke believed the whole -village was welcoming him. He was convinced of it; and when the berlin -stopped before the house of the cure, M. de Sairmeuse was persuaded -that the /prestige/ of the nobility was greater than ever. - -Upon the threshold of the parsonage, Bibiaine, the old housekeeper, -was standing. She knew who these guests must be, for the cure's -servants always know what is going on. - -"Monsieur has not yet returned from church," she said, in response to -the duke's inquiry; "but if the gentlemen wish to wait, it will not be -long before he comes, for the poor, dear man has not breakfasted yet." - -"Let us go in," the duke said to his son. And guided by the -housekeeper, they entered a sort of drawing-room, where the table was -spread. - -M. de Sairmeuse took an inventory of the apartment in a single glance. -The habits of a house reveal those of its master. This was clean, -poor, and bare. The walls were whitewashed; a dozen chairs composed -the entire furniture; upon the table, laid with monastic simplicity, -were only tin dishes. - -This was either the abode of an ambitious man or a saint. - -"Will these gentlemen take any refreshments?" inquired Bibiaine. - -"Upon my word," replied Martial, "I must confess that the drive has -whetted my appetite amazingly." - -"Blessed Jesus!" exclaimed the old housekeeper, in evident despair. -"What am I to do? I, who have nothing! That is to say--yes--I have an -old hen left in the coop. Give me time to wring its neck, to pick it, -and clean it----" - -She paused to listen, and they heard a step in the passage. - -"Ah!" she exclaimed, "here is Monsieur le Cure now!" - -The son of a poor farmer in the environs of Montaignac, he owed his -Latin and tonsure to the privations of his family. - -Tall, angular, and solemn, he was as cold and impassive as the stones -of his church. - -By what immense efforts of will, at the cost of what torture, had he -made himself what he was? One could form some idea of the terrible -restraint to which he had subjected himself by looking at his eyes, -which occasionally emitted the lightnings of an impassioned soul. - -Was he old or young? The most subtle observer would have hesitated to -say on seeing this pallid and emaciated face, cut in two by an immense -nose--a real eagle's beak--as thin as the edge of a razor. - -He wore a white cassock, which had been patched and darned in -numberless places, but which was a marvel of cleanliness, and which -hung about his tall, attenuated body like the sails of a disabled -vessel. - -He was known as the Abbe Midon. - -At the sight of the two strangers seated in his drawing-room, he -manifested some slight surprise. - -The carriage standing before the door had announced the presence of a -visitor; but he had expected to find one of his parishioners. - -No one had warned him or the sacristan, and he was wondering with whom -he had to deal, and what they desired of him. - -Mechanically, he turned to Bibiaine, but the old servant had taken -flight. - -The duke understood his host's astonishment. - -"Upon my word, Abbe!" he said, with the impertinent ease of a /grand -seigneur/ who makes himself at home everywhere, "we have taken your -house by storm, and hold the position, as you see. I am the Duc de -Sairmeuse, and this is my son, the Marquis." - -The priest bowed, but he did not seem very greatly impressed by the -exalted rank of his guests. - -"It is a great honor for me," he replied, in a more than reserved -tone, "to receive a visit from the former master of this place." - -He emphasized this word "former" in such a manner that it was -impossible to doubt his sentiments and his opinions. - -"Unfortunately," he continued, "you will not find here the comforts to -which you are accustomed, and I fear----" - -"Nonsense!" interrupted the duke. "An old soldier is not fastidious, -and what suffices for you, Monsieur Abbe, will suffice for us. And -rest assured that we shall amply repay you in one way or another for -any inconvenience we may cause you." - -The priest's eye flashed. This want of tact, this disagreeable -familiarity, this last insulting remark, kindled the anger of the man -concealed beneath the priest. - -"Besides," added Martial, gayly, "we have been vastly amused by -Bibiaine's anxieties, we already know that there is a chicken in the -coop----" - -"That is to say there was one, Monsieur le Marquis." - -The old housekeeper, who suddenly reappeared, explained her master's -response. She seemed overwhelmed with despair. - -"Blessed Virgin! Monsieur, what shall I do?" she clamored. "The -chicken has disappeared. Someone has certainly stolen it, for the coop -is securely closed!" - -"Do not accuse your neighbor hastily," interrupted the cure; "no one -has stolen it from us. Bertrande was here this morning to ask alms in -the name of her sick daughter. I had no money, and I gave her this -fowl that she might make a good bouillon for the sick girl." - -This explanation changed Bibiaine's consternation to fury. - -Planting herself in the centre of the room, one hand upon her hip, and -gesticulating wildly with the other, she exclaimed, pointing to her -master: - -"That is just the sort of man he is; he has less sense than a baby! -Any miserable peasant who meets him can make him believe anything he -wishes. Any great falsehood brings tears to his eyes, and then they -can do what they like with him. In that way they take the very shoes -off his feet and the bread from his mouth. Bertrande's daughter, -messieurs, is no more ill than you or I!" - -"Enough," said the priest, sternly, "enough." Then, knowing by -experience that his voice had not the power to check her flood of -reproaches, he took her by the arm and led her out into the passage. - -M. de Sairmeuse and his son exchanged a glance of consternation. - -Was this a comedy that had been prepared for their benefit? Evidently -not, since their arrival had not been expected. - -But the priest, whose character had been so plainly revealed by this -quarrel with his domestic, was not a man to their taste. - -At least, he was evidently not the man they had hoped to find--not the -auxiliary whose assistance was indispensable to the success of their -plans. - -Yet they did not exchange a word; they listened. - -They heard the sound as of a discussion in the passage. The master -spoke in low tones, but with an unmistakable accent of command; the -servant uttered an astonished exclamation. - -But the listeners could not distinguish a word. - -Soon the priest re-entered the apartment. - -"I hope, gentlemen," he said, with a dignity that could not fail to -check any attempt at raillery, "that you will excuse this ridiculous -scene. The cure of Sairmeuse, thank God! is not so poor as she says." - -Neither the duke nor Martial made any response. - -Even their remarkable assurance was very sensibly diminished; and M. -de Sairmeuse deemed it advisable to change the subject. - -This he did, by relating the events which he had just witnessed in -Paris, and by insisting that His Majesty, Louis XVIII., had been -welcomed with enthusiasm and transports of affection. - -Fortunately, the old housekeeper interrupted this recital. - -She entered, loaded with china, silver, and bottles, and behind her -came a large man in a white apron, bearing three or four covered -dishes in his hands. - -It was the order to go and obtain this repast from the village inn -which had drawn from Bibiaine so many exclamations of wonder and -dismay in the passage. - -A moment later the cure and his guests took their places at the table. - -Had the much-lamented chicken constituted the dinner the rations would -have been "short." This the worthy woman was obliged to confess, on -seeing the terrible appetite evinced by M. de Sairmeuse and his son. - -"One would have sworn that they had eaten nothing for a fortnight," -she told her friends, the next day. - -Abbe Midon was not hungry, though it was two o'clock, and he had eaten -nothing since the previous evening. - -The sudden arrival of the former masters of Sairmeuse filled his heart -with gloomy forebodings. Their coming, he believed, presaged the -greatest misfortunes. - -So while he played with his knife and fork, pretending to eat, he was -really occupied in watching his guests, and in studying them with all -the penetration of a priest, which, by the way, is generally far -superior to that of a physician or of a magistrate. - -The Duc de Sairmeuse was fifty-seven, but looked considerably younger. - -The storms of his youth, the dissipation of his riper years, the great -excesses of every kind in which he had indulged, had not impaired his -iron constitution in the least. - -Of herculean build, he was extremely proud of his strength, and of his -hands, which were well-formed, but large, firmly knit and powerful, -such hands as rightly belonged to a gentleman whose ancestors had -given many a crushing blow with ponderous battle-axe in the crusades. - -His face revealed his character. He possessed all the graces and all -the vices of a courtier. - -He was, at the same time /spirituel/ and ignorant, sceptical and -violently imbued with the prejudices of his class. - -Though less robust than his father, Martial was a no less -distinguished-looking cavalier. It was not strange that women raved -over his blue eyes, and the beautiful blond hair which he inherited -from his mother. - -To his father he owed energy, courage, and, it must also be added, -perversity. But he was his superior in education and in intellect. If -he shared his father's prejudices, he had not adopted them without -weighing them carefully. What the father might do in a moment of -excitement, the son was capable of doing in cold blood. - -It was thus that the abbe, with rare sagacity, read the character of -his guests. - -So it was with great sorrow, but without surprise, that he heard the -duke advance, on the questions of the day, the impossible ideas shared -by nearly all the /emigres/. - -Knowing the condition of the country, and the state of public opinion, -the cure endeavored to convince the obstinate man of his mistake; but -upon this subject the duke would not permit contradiction, or even -raillery; and he was fast losing his temper, when Bibiaine appeared at -the parlor door. - -"Monsieur le Duc," said she, "Monsieur Lacheneur and his daughter are -without and desire to speak to you." - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -This name Lacheneur awakened no recollection in the mind of the duke. - -First, he had never lived at Sairmeuse. - -And even if he had, what courtier of the /ancien regime/ ever troubled -himself about the individual names of the peasants, whom he regarded -with such profound indifference. - -When a /grand seigneur/ addressed these people, he said: "Halloo! hi, -there! friend, my worthy fellow!" - -So it was with the air of a man who is making an effort of memory that -the Duc de Sairmeuse repeated: - -"Lacheneur--Monsieur Lacheneur----" - -But Martial, a closer observer than his father, had noticed that the -priest's glance wavered at the sound of this name. - -"Who is this person, Abbe?" demanded the duke, lightly. - -"Monsieur Lacheneur," replied the priest, with very evident -hesitation, "is the present owner of the Chateau de Sairmeuse." - -Martial, the precocious diplomat, could not repress a smile on hearing -this response, which he had foreseen. But the duke bounded from his -chair. - -"Ah!" he exclaimed, "it is the rascal who has had the impudence-- Let -him come in, old woman, let him come in." - -Bibiaine retired, and the priest's uneasiness increased. - -"Permit me, Monsieur le Duc," he said, hastily, "to remark that -Monsieur Lacheneur exercises a great influence in this region--to -offend him would be impolitic----" - -"I understand--you advise me to be conciliatory. Such sentiments are -purely Jacobin. If His Majesty listens to the advice of such as you, -all these sales of confiscated estates will be ratified. Zounds! our -interests are the same. If the Revolution has deprived the nobility of -their property, it has also impoverished the clergy." - -"The possessions of a priest are not of this world, Monsieur," said -the cure, coldly. - -M. de Sairmeuse was about to make some impertinent response, when M. -Lacheneur appeared, followed by his daughter. - -The wretched man was ghastly pale, great drops of perspiration stood -out upon his temples, his restless, haggard eyes revealed his distress -of mind. - -Marie-Anne was as pale as her father, but her attitude and the light -that burned in her eyes told of invincible energy and determination. - -"Ah, well! friend," said the duke, "so we are the owner of Sairmeuse, -it seems." - -This was said with such a careless insolence of manner that the cure -blushed that they should thus treat, in his own house, a man whom he -considered his equal. - -He rose and offered the visitors chairs. - -"Will you take a seat, dear Monsieur Lacheneur?" said he, with a -politeness intended as a lesson for the duke; "and you, also, -Mademoiselle, do me the honor----" - -But the father and the daughter both refused the proffered civility -with a motion of the head. - -"Monsieur le Duc," continued Lacheneur, "I am an old servant of your -house----" - -"Ah! indeed!" - -"Mademoiselle Armande, your aunt, accorded my poor mother the honor of -acting as my godmother----" - -"Ah, yes," interrupted the duke. "I remember you now. Our family has -shown great goodness to you and yours. And it was to prove your -gratitude, probably, that you made haste to purchase our estate!" - -The former ploughboy was of humble origin, but his heart and his -character had developed with his fortunes; he understood his own -worth. - -Much as he was disliked, and even detested, by his neighbors, everyone -respected him. - -And here was a man who treated him with undisguised scorn. Why? By -what right? - -Indignant at the outrage, he made a movement as if to retire. - -No one, save his daughter, knew the truth; he had only to keep silence -and Sairmeuse remained his. - -Yes, he had still the power to keep Sairmeuse, and he knew it, for he -did not share the fears of the ignorant rustics. He was too well -informed not to be able to distinguish between the hopes of the -/emigres/ and the possible. He knew that an abyss separated the dream -from the reality. - -A beseeching word uttered in a low tone by his daughter, made him turn -again to the duke. - -"If I purchased Sairmeuse," he answered, in a voice husky with -emotion, "it was in obedience to the command of your dying aunt, and -with the money which she gave me for that purpose. If you see me here, -it is only because I come to restore to you the deposit confided to my -keeping." - -Anyone not belonging to that class of spoiled fools which surround a -throne would have been deeply touched. - -But the duke thought this grand act of honesty and of generosity the -most simple and natural thing in the world. - -"That is very well, so far as the principal is concerned," said he. -"Let us speak now of the interest. Sairmeuse, if I remember rightly, -yielded an average income of one thousand louis per year. These -revenues, well invested, should have amounted to a very considerable -amount. Where is this?" - -This claim, thus advanced and at such a moment, was so outrageous, -that Martial, disgusted, made a sign to his father, which the latter -did not see. - -But the cure hoping to recall the extortioner to something like a -sense of shame, exclaimed: - -"Monsieur le Duc! Oh, Monsieur le Duc!" - -Lacheneur shrugged his shoulders with an air of resignation. - -"The income I have used for my own living expenses, and in educating -my children; but most of it has been expended in improving the estate, -which today yields an income twice as large as in former years." - -"That is to say, for twenty years, Monsieur Lacheneur has played the -part of lord of the manor. A delightful comedy. You are rich now, I -suppose." - -"I possess nothing. But I hope you will allow me to take ten thousand -francs, which your aunt gave to me." - -"Ah! she gave you ten thousand francs? And when?" - -"On the same evening that she gave me the eighty thousand francs -intended for the purchase of the estate." - -"Perfect! What proof can you furnish that she gave you this sum?" - -Lacheneur stood motionless and speechless. He tried to reply, but he -could not. If he opened his lips it would only be to pour forth a -torrent of menaces, insults, and invectives. - -Marie-Anne stepped quickly forward. - -"The proof, Monsieur," said she, in a clear, ringing voice, "is the -word of this man, who, of his own free will, comes to return to you-- -to give you a fortune." - -As she sprang forward her beautiful dark hair escaped from its -confinement, the rich blood crimsoned her cheeks, her dark eyes -flashed brilliantly, and sorrow, anger, horror at the humiliation, -imparted a sublime expression to her face. - -She was so beautiful that Martial regarded her with wonder. - -"Lovely!" he murmured, in English; "beautiful as an angel!" - -These words, which she understood, abashed Marie-Anne. But she had -said enough; her father felt that he was avenged. - -He drew from his pocket a roll of papers, and throwing them upon the -table: "Here are your titles," he said, addressing the duke in a tone -full of implacable hatred. "Keep the legacy that your aunt gave me, I -wish nothing of yours. I shall never set foot in Sairmeuse again. -Penniless I entered it, penniless I will leave it!" - -He quitted the room with head proudly erect, and when they were -outside, he said but one word to his daughter: - -"Well!" - -"You have done your duty," she replied; "it is those who have not done -it, who are to be pitied!" - -She had no opportunity to say more. Martial came running after them, -anxious for another chance of seeing this young girl whose beauty had -made such an impression upon him. - -"I hastened after you," he said, addressing Marie-Anne, rather than M. -Lacheneur, "to reassure you. All this will be arranged, Mademoiselle. -Eyes so beautiful as yours should never know tears. I will be your -advocate with my father--" - -"Mademoiselle Lacheneur has no need of an advocate!" a harsh voice -interrupted. - -Martial turned, and saw the young man, who, that morning, went to warn -M. Lacheneur of the duke's arrival. - -"I am the Marquis de Sairmeuse," he said, insolently. - -"And I," said the other, quietly, "am Maurice d'Escorval." - -They surveyed each other for a moment; each expecting, perhaps, an -insult from the other. Instinctively, they felt that they were to be -enemies; and the bitterest animosity spoke in the glances they -exchanged. Perhaps they felt a presentiment that they were to be -champions of two different principles, as well as rivals. - -Martial, remembering his father, yielded. - -"We shall meet again, Monsieur d'Escorval," he said, as he retired. At -this threat, Maurice shrugged his shoulders, and said: - -"You had better not desire it." - - - -CHAPTER V - -The abode of the Baron d'Escorval, that brick structure with stone -trimmings which was visible from the superb avenue leading to -Sairmeuse, was small and unpretentious. - -Its chief attraction was a pretty lawn that extended to the banks of -the Oiselle, and a small but beautifully shaded park. - -It was known as the Chateau d'Escorval, but that appellation was gross -flattery. Any petty manufacturer who had amassed a small fortune would -have desired a larger, handsomer, and more imposing establishment. - -M. d'Escorval--and it will be an eternal honor to him in history--was -not rich. - -Although he had been intrusted with several of those missions from -which generals and diplomats often return laden with millions, M. -d'Escorval's worldly possessions consisted only of the little -patrimony bequeathed him by his father: a property which yielded an -income of from twenty to twenty-five thousand francs a year. - -This modest dwelling, situated about a mile from Sairmeuse, -represented the savings of ten years. - -He had built it in 1806, from a plan drawn by his own hand; and it was -the dearest spot on earth to him. - -He always hastened to this retreat when his work allowed him a few -days of rest. - -But this time he had not come to Escorval of his own free will. - -He had been compelled to leave Paris by the proscribed list of the -24th of July--that fatal list which summoned the enthusiastic -Labedoyere and the honest and virtuous Drouot before a court-martial. - -And even in this solitude, M. d'Escorval's situation was not without -danger. - -He was one of those who, some days before the disaster of Waterloo, -had strongly urged the Emperor to order the execution of Fouche, the -former minister of police. - -Now, Fouche knew this counsel; and he was powerful. - -"Take care!" M. d'Escorval's friends wrote him from Paris. - -But he put his trust in Providence, and faced the future, threatening -though it was, with the unalterable serenity of a pure conscience. - -The baron was still young; he was not yet fifty, but anxiety, work, -and long nights passed in struggling with the most arduous -difficulties of the imperial policy, had made him old before his time. - -He was tall, slightly inclined to /embonpoint/, and stooped a little. - -His calm eyes, his serious mouth, his broad, furrowed forehead, and -his austere manners inspired respect. - -"He must be stern and inflexible," said those who saw him for the -first time. - -But they were mistaken. - -If, in the exercise of his official duties, this truly great man had -the strength to resist all temptations to swerve from the path of -right; if, when duty was at stake, he was as rigid as iron, in private -life he was as unassuming as a child, and kind and gentle even to the -verge of weakness. - -To this nobility of character he owed his domestic happiness, that -rare and precious happiness which fills one's existence with a -celestial perfume. - -During the bloodiest epoch of the Reign of Terror, M. d'Escorval had -wrested from the guillotine a young girl named Victoire-Laure d'Alleu, -a distant cousin of the Rhetaus of Commarin, as beautiful as an angel, -and only three years younger than himself. - -He loved her--and though she was an orphan, destitute of fortune, he -married her, considering the treasure of her virgin heart of far -greater value than the most magnificent dowry. - -She was an honest woman, as her husband was an honest man, in the most -strict and vigorous sense of the word. - -She was seldom seen at the Tuileries, where M. d'Escorval's worth made -him eagerly welcomed. The splendors of the Imperial Court, which at -that time surpassed all the pomp of the time of Louis XIV., had no -attractions for her. - -Grace, beauty, youth and accomplishments--she reserved them all for -the adornment of her home. - -Her husband was her God. She lived in him and through him. She had not -a thought which did not belong to him. - -The short time that he could spare from his arduous labors to devote -to her were her happiest hours. - -And when, in the evening, they sat beside the fire in their modest -drawing-room, with their son Maurice playing on the rug at their feet, -it seemed to them that they had nothing to wish for here below. - -The overthrow of the empire surprised them in the heydey of their -happiness. - -Surprised them? No. For a long time M. d'Escorval had seen the -prodigious edifice erected by the genius whom he had made his idol -totter as if about to fall. - -Certainly, he felt intense chagrin at this fall, but he was heart- -broken at the sight of all the treason and cowardice which followed -it. He was indignant and horrified at the rising /en masse/ of the -avaricious, who hastened to gorge themselves with the spoil. - -Under these circumstances, exile from Paris seemed an actual blessing. - -"Besides," as he remarked to the baroness, "we shall soon be forgotten -here." - -But even while he said this he felt many misgivings. Still, by his -side, his noble wife presented a tranquil face, even while she -trembled for the safety of her adored husband. - -On this first Sunday in August, M. d'Escorval and his wife had been -unusually sad. A vague presentiment of approaching misfortune weighed -heavily upon their hearts. - -At the same hour that Lacheneur presented himself at the house of the -Abbe Midon, they were seated upon the terrace in front of the house, -gazing anxiously at the two roads leading from Escorval to the -chateau, and to the village of Sairmeuse. - -Warned, that same morning, by his friends in Montaignac of the arrival -of the duke, the baron had sent his son to inform M. Lacheneur. - -He had requested him to be absent as short a time as possible; but in -spite of this fact, the hours were rolling by, and Maurice had not -returned. - -"What if something has happened to him!" both father and mother were -thinking. - -No; nothing had happened to him. Only a word from Mlle. Lacheneur had -sufficed to make him forget his usual deference to his father's -wishes. - -"This evening," she had said, "I shall certainly know your heart." - -What could this mean? Could she doubt him? - -Tortured by the most cruel anxieties, the poor youth could not resolve -to go away without an explanation, and he hung around the chateau -hoping that Marie-Anne would reappear. - -She did reappear at last, but leaning upon the arm of her father. - -Young d'Escorval followed them at a distance, and soon saw them enter -the parsonage. What were they going to do there? He knew that the duke -and his son were within. - -The time that they remained there, and which he passed in the public -square, seemed more than a century long. - -They emerged at last, however, and he was about to join them when he -was prevented by the appearance of Martial, whose promises he -overheard. - -Maurice knew nothing of life; he was as innocent as a child, but he -could not mistake the intentions that dictated this step on the part -of the Marquis de Sairmeuse. - -At the thought that a libertine's caprice should dare rest for an -instant upon the pure and beautiful girl whom he loved with all the -strength of his being--whom he had sworn should be his wife--all his -blood mounted madly to his brain. - -He felt a wild longing to chastise the insolent wretch. - -Fortunately--unfortunately, perhaps--his hand was arrested by the -recollection of a phrase which he had heard his father repeat a -thousand times: - -"Calmness and irony are the only weapons worthy of the strong." - -And he possessed sufficient strength of will to appear calm, while, in -reality, he was beside himself with passion. It was Martial who lost -his self-control, and who threatened him. - -"Ah! yes, I will find you again, upstart!" repeated Maurice, through -his set teeth as he watched his enemy move away. - -For Martial had turned and discovered that Marie-Anne and her father -had left him. He saw them standing about a hundred paces from him. -Although he was surprised at their indifference, he made haste to join -them, and addressed M. Lacheneur. - -"We are just going to your father's house," was the response he -received, in an almost ferocious tone. - -A glance from Marie-Anne commanded silence. He obeyed, and walked a -few steps behind them, with his head bowed upon his breast, terribly -anxious, and seeking vainly to explain what had passed. - -His attitude betrayed such intense sorrow that his mother divined it -as soon as she caught sight of him. - -All the anguish which this courageous woman had hidden for a month, -found utterance in a single cry. - -"Ah! here is misfortune!" said she, "we shall not escape it." - -It was, indeed, misfortune. One could not doubt it when one saw M. -Lacheneur enter the drawing-room. - -He advanced with the heavy, uncertain step of a drunken man, his eye -void of expression, his features distorted, his lips pale and -trembling. - -"What has happened?" asked the baron, eagerly. - -But the other did not seem to hear him. - -"Ah! I warned her," he murmured, continuing a monologue which had -begun before he entered the room. "I told my daughter so." - -Mme. d'Escorval, after kissing Marie-Anne, drew the girl toward her. - -"What has happened? For God's sake, tell me what has happened!" she -exclaimed. - -With a gesture expressive of the most sorrowful resignation, the girl -motioned her to look and to listen to M. Lacheneur. - -He had recovered from that stupor--that gift of God--which follows -cries that are too terrible for human endurance. Like a sleeper who, -on waking, finds his miseries forgotten during his slumber, lying in -wait for him, he regained with consciousness the capacity to suffer. - -"It is only this, Monsieur le Baron," replied the unfortunate man in a -harsh, unnatural voice: "I rose this morning the richest proprietor in -the country, and I shall lay down to-night poorer than the poorest -beggar in this commune. I had everything; I no longer have anything-- -nothing but my two hands. They earned me my bread for twenty-five -years; they will earn it for me now until the day of my death. I had a -beautiful dream; it is ended." - -Before this outburst of despair, M. d'Escorval turned pale. - -"You must exaggerate your misfortune," he faltered; "explain what has -happened." - -Unconscious of what he was doing, M. Lacheneur threw his hat upon a -chair, and flinging back his long, gray hair, he said: - -"To you I will tell all. I came here for that purpose. I know you; I -know your heart. And have you not done me the honor to call me your -friend?" - -Then, with the cruel exactness of the living, breathing truth, he -related the scene which had just taken place at the presbytery. - -The baron listened petrified with astonishment, almost doubting the -evidence of his own senses. Mme. d'Escorval's indignant and sorrowful -exclamations showed that every noble sentiment in her soul revolted -against such injustice. - -But there was one auditor, whom Marie-Anne alone observed, who was -moved to his very entrails by this recital. This auditor was Maurice. - -Leaning against the door, pale as death, he tried most energetically, -but in vain, to repress the tears of rage and of sorrow which swelled -up in his eyes. - -To insult Lacheneur was to insult Marie-Anne--that is to say, to -injure, to strike, to outrage him in all that he held most dear in the -world. - -Ah! it is certain that Martial, had he been within his reach, would -have paid dearly for these insults to the father of the girl Maurice -loved. - -But he swore that this chastisement was only deferred--that it should -surely come. - -And it was not mere angry boasting. This young man, though so modest -and so gentle in manner, had a heart that was inaccessible to fear. -His beautiful, dark eyes, which had the trembling timidity of the eyes -of a young girl, met the gaze of an enemy without flinching. - -When M. Lacheneur had repeated the last words which he had addressed -to the Duc de Sairmeuse, M. d'Escorval offered him his hand. - -"I have told you already that I was your friend," he said, in a voice -faltering with emotion; "but I must tell you to-day that I am proud of -having such a friend as you." - -The unfortunate man trembled at the touch of that loyal hand which -clasped his so warmly, and his face betrayed an ineffable -satisfaction. - -"If my father had not returned it," murmured the obstinate Marie-Anne, -"my father would have been an unfaithful guardian--a thief. He has -done only his duty." - -M. d'Escorval turned to the young girl, a little surprised. - -"You speak the truth, Mademoiselle," he said, reproachfully; "but when -you are as old as I am, and have had my experience, you will know that -the accomplishment of a duty is, under certain circumstances, a -heroism of which few persons are capable." - -M. Lacheneur turned to his friend. - -"Ah! your words do me good, Monsieur," said he. "Now, I am content -with what I have done." - -The baroness rose, too much the woman to know how to resist the -generous dictates of her heart. - -"And I, also, Monsieur Lacheneur," she said, "desire to press your -hand. I wish to tell you that I esteem you as much as I despise the -ingrates who have sought to humiliate you, when they should have -fallen at your feet. They are heartless monsters, the like of whom -certainly cannot be found upon the earth." - -"Alas!" sighed the baron, "the allies have brought back others who, -like these men, think the world created exclusively for their -benefit." - -"And these people wish to be our masters," growled Lacheneur. - -By some strange fatality no one chanced to hear the remark made by M. -Lacheneur. Had they overheard and questioned him, he would probably -have disclosed some of the projects which were as yet in embryo in his -own mind; and in that case what disastrous consequences might have -been averted. - -M. d'Escorval had regained his usual coolness. - -"Now, my dear friend," he inquired, "what course do you propose to -pursue with these members of the Sairmeuse family?" - -"They will hear nothing more from me--for some time, at least." - -"What! Shall you not claim the ten thousand francs that they owe you?" - -"I shall ask them for nothing." - -"You will be compelled to do so. Since you have alluded to the legacy, -your own honor will demand that you insist upon its payment by all -legal methods. There are still judges in France." - -M. Lacheneur shook his head. - -"The judges will not accord me the justice I desire. I shall not apply -to them." - -"But----" - -"No, Monsieur, no. I wish to have nothing to do with these men. I -shall not even go to the chateau to remove my clothing nor that of my -daughter. If they send it to us--very well. If it pleases them to keep -it, so much the better. The more shameful, infamous and odious their -conduct appears, the better I shall be satisfied." - -The baron made no reply; but his wife spoke, believing she had a sure -means of conquering this incomprehensible obstinacy. - -"I should understand your determination if you were alone in the -world," said she, "but you have children." - -"My son is eighteen, Madame; he possesses good health and an excellent -education. He can make his own way in Paris, if he chooses to remain -there." - -"But your daughter?" - -"Marie-Anne will remain with me." - -M. d'Escorval thought it his duty to interfere. - -"Take care, my dear friend, that your grief does not overthrow your -reason," said he. "Reflect! What will become of you--your daughter and -yourself?" - -The wretched man smiled sadly. - -"Oh," he replied, "we are not as destitute as I said. I exaggerated -our misfortune. We are still landed proprietors. Last year an old -cousin, whom I could never induce to come and live at Sairmeuse, died, -bequeathing all her property to Marie-Anne. This property consisted of -a poor little cottage near the Reche, with a little garden and a few -acres of sterile land. In compliance with my daughter's entreaties, I -repaired the cottage, and sent there a few articles of furniture--a -table, some chairs, and a couple of beds. My daughter designed it as a -home for old Father Guvat and his wife. And I, surrounded by wealth -and luxury, said to myself: 'How comfortable those two old people will -be there. They will live as snug as a bug in a rug!' Well, what I -thought so comfortable for others, will be good enough for me. I will -raise vegetables, and Marie-Anne shall sell them." - -Was he speaking seriously? - -Maurice must have supposed so, for he sprang forward. - -"This shall not be, Monsieur Lacheneur!" he exclaimed. - -"Oh----" - -"No, this shall not be, for I love Marie-Anne, and I ask you to give -her to me for my wife." - - - -CHAPTER VI - -Maurice and Marie-Anne had loved each other for many years. - -As children, they had played together in the magnificent grounds -surrounding the Chateau de Sairmeuse, and in the park at Escorval. - -Together they chased the brilliant butterflies, searched for pebbles -on the banks of the river, or rolled in the hay while their mothers -sauntered through the meadows bordering the Oiselle. - -For their mothers were friends. - -Mme. Lacheneur had been reared like other poor peasant girls; that is -to say, on the day of her marriage it was only with great difficulty -she succeeded in inscribing her name upon the register. - -But from the example of her husband she had learned that prosperity, -as well as /noblesse/, entails certain obligations upon one, and with -rare courage, crowned with still rarer success, she had undertaken to -acquire an education in keeping with her fortune and her new rank. - -And the baroness had made no effort to resist the sympathy that -attracted her to this meritorious young woman, in whom she had -discerned a really superior mind and a truly refined nature. - -When Mme. Lacheneur died, Mme. d'Escorval mourned for her as she would -have mourned for a favorite sister. - -From that moment Maurice's attachment assumed a more serious -character. - -Educated in a Parisian lyceum, his teachers sometimes had occasion to -complain of his want of application. - -"If your professors are not satisfied with you," said his mother, "you -shall not accompany me to Escorval on the coming of your vacation, and -you will not see your little friend." - -And this simple threat was always sufficient to make the school-boy -resume his studies with redoubled diligence. - -So each year, as it passed, strengthened the /grande passion/ which -preserved Maurice from the restlessness and the errors of adolescence. - -The two children were equally timid and artless, and equally -infatuated with each other. - -Long walks in the twilight under the eyes of their parents, a glance -that revealed their delight at meeting each other, flowers exchanged -between them--which were religiously preserved--such were their simple -pleasures. - -But that magical and sublime word, love--so sweet to utter, and so -sweet to hear--had never once dropped from their lips. - -The audacity of Maurice had never gone beyond a furtive pressure of -the hand. - -The parents could not be ignorant of this mutual affection; and if -they pretended to shut their eyes, it was only because it did not -displease them nor disturb their plans. - -M. and Mme. d'Escorval saw no objection to their son's marriage with a -young girl whose nobility of character they appreciated, and who was -as beautiful as she was good. That she was the richest heiress in all -the country round about was naturally no objection. - -So far as M. Lacheneur was concerned, he was delighted at the prospect -of a marriage which would ally him, a former ploughboy, with an old -family whose head was universally respected. - -So, although no direct allusion to the subject had ever escaped the -lips of the baron or of M. Lacheneur, there was a tacit agreement -between the two families. - -Yes, the marriage was considered a foregone conclusion. - -And yet this impetuous and unexpected declaration by Maurice struck -everyone dumb. - -In spite of his agitation, the young man perceived the effect produced -by his words, and frightened by his own boldness, he turned and looked -questioningly at his father. - -The baron's face was grave, even sad; but his attitude expressed no -displeasure. - -This gave renewed courage to the anxious lover. - -"You will excuse me, Monsieur," he said, addressing Lacheneur, "for -presenting my request in such a manner, and at such a time. But -surely, when fate glowers ominously upon you, that is the time when -your friends should declare themselves--and deem themselves fortunate -if their devotion can make you forget the infamous treatment to which -you have been subjected." - -As he spoke, he was watching Marie-Anne. - -Blushing and embarrassed, she turned away her head, perhaps to conceal -the tears which inundated her face--tears of joy and of gratitude. - -The love of the man she adored came forth victorious from a test which -it would not be prudent for many heiresses to impose. - -Now she could truly say that she knew Maurice's heart. - -He, however, continued: - -"I have not consulted my father, sir; but I know his affection for me -and his esteem for you. When the happiness of my life is at stake, he -will not oppose me. He, who married my dear mother without a dowry, -must understand my feelings." - -He was silent, awaiting the verdict. - -"I approve your course, my son," said M. d'Escorval, deeply affected; -"you have conducted yourself like an honorable man. Certainly you are -very young to become the head of a family; but, as you say, -circumstances demand it." - -He turned to M. Lacheneur, and added: - -"My dear friend, I, in my son's behalf, ask the hand of your daughter -in marriage." - -Maurice had not expected so little opposition. - -In his delight he was almost tempted to bless the hateful Duc de -Sairmeuse, to whom he would owe his approaching happiness. - -He sprang toward his father, and seizing his hands, he raised them to -his lips, faltering: - -"Thanks! you are so good! I love you! Oh, how happy I am!" - -Alas! the poor boy was in too much haste to rejoice. - -A gleam of pride flashed in M. Lacheneur's eyes; but his face soon -resumed its gloomy expression. - -"Believe me, Monsieur le Baron, I am deeply touched by your grandeur -of soul--yes, deeply touched. You wish to make me forget my -humiliation; but, for this very reason, I should be the most -contemptible of men if I did not refuse the great honor you desire to -confer upon my daughter." - -"What!" exclaimed the baron, in utter astonishment; "you refuse?" - -"I am compelled to do so." - -Thunderstruck at first, Maurice afterward renewed the attack with an -energy which no one had ever suspected in his character before. - -"Do you, then, wish to ruin my life, Monsieur?" he exclaimed; "to ruin -/our/ life; for if I love Marie-Anne, she also loves me." - -It was easy to see that he spoke the truth. The unhappy girl, crimson -with happy blushes the moment before, had suddenly become whiter than -marble, as she looked imploringly at her father. - -"It cannot be," repeated M. Lacheneur; "and the day will come when you -will bless the decision I make known at this moment." - -Alarmed by her son's evident agony, Mme. d'Escorval interposed: - -"You must have reasons for this refusal." - -"None that I can disclose, Madame. But never while I live shall my -daughter be your son's wife!" - -"Ah! it will kill my child!" exclaimed the baroness. - -M. Lacheneur shook his head. - -"Monsieur Maurice," said he, "is young; he will console himself--he -will forget." - -"Never!" interrupted the unhappy lover--"never!" - -"And your daughter?" inquired the baroness. - -Ah! this was the weak spot in his armor; the instinct of a mother was -not mistaken. M. Lacheneur hesitated a moment; but he finally -conquered the weakness that had threatened to master him. - -"Marie-Anne," he replied, slowly, "knows her duty too well not to obey -when I command. When I tell her the motive that governs my conduct, -she will become resigned; and if she suffers, she will know how to -conceal her sufferings." - -He paused suddenly. They heard in the distance a firing of musketry, -the discharge of rifles, whose sharp ring overpowered even the sullen -roar of cannon. - -Every face grew pale. Circumstances imparted to these sounds an -ominous significance. - -With the same anguish clutching the hearts of both, M. d'Escorval and -Lacheneur sprang out upon the terrace. - -But all was still again. Extended as was the horizon, the eye could -discern nothing unusual. The sky was blue; not a particle of smoke -hung over the trees. - -"It is the enemy," muttered M. Lacheneur, in a tone which told how -gladly he would have shouldered his gun, and, with five hundred -others, marched against the united allies. - -He paused. The explosions were repeated with still greater violence, -and for a period of five minutes succeeded each other without -cessation. - -M. d'Escorval listened with knitted brows. - -"That is not the fire of an engagement," he murmured. - -To remain long in such a state of uncertainty was out of the question. - -"If you will permit me, father," ventured Maurice, "I will go and -ascertain----" - -"/Go/," replied the baron, quietly; "but if it is anything, which I -doubt, do not expose yourself to danger; return." - -"Oh! be prudent!" insisted Mme. d'Escorval, who already saw her son -exposed to the most frightful peril. - -"Be prudent!" entreated Marie-Anne, who alone understood what -attractions danger might have for a despairing and unhappy man. - -These precautions were unnecessary. As Maurice was rushing to the -door, his father stopped him. - -"Wait," said he; "here is someone who can probably give us -information." - -A man had just appeared around a turn of the road leading to -Sairmeuse. - -He was advancing bareheaded in the middle of the dusty road, with -hurried strides, and occasionally brandishing his stick, as if -threatening an enemy visible to himself alone. - -Soon they were able to distinguish his features. - -"It is Chanlouineau!" exclaimed M. Lacheneur. - -"The owner of the vineyards on the Borderie?" - -"The same! The handsomest young farmer in the country, and the best -also. Ah! he has good blood in his veins; we may well be proud of -him." - -"Ask him to stop," said M. d'Escorval. - -Lacheneur leaned over the balustrade, and, forming a trumpet out of -his two hands, he called: - -"Oh! Chanlouineau!" - -The robust young farmer raised his head. - -"Come up," shouted Lacheneur; "the baron wishes to speak with you." - -Chanlouineau responded by a gesture of assent. They saw him enter the -gate, cross the garden, and at last appear at the door of the drawing- -room. - -His features were distorted with fury, his disordered clothing gave -evidence of a serious conflict. His cravat was gone, and his torn -shirt-collar revealed his muscular throat. - -"Where is this fighting?" demanded Lacheneur eagerly; "and with whom?" - -Chanlouineau gave a nervous laugh which resembled a roar of rage. - -"They are not fighting," he replied; "they are amusing themselves. -This firing which you hear is in honor of Monsieur le Duc de -Sairmeuse." - -"Impossible!" - -"I know it very well; and yet, what I have told you is the truth. It -is the work of that miserable wretch and thief, Chupin. Ah, -/canaille/! If I ever find him within reach of my arm he will never -steal again." - -M. Lacheneur was confounded. - -"Tell us what has happened," he said, excitedly. - -"Oh, it is as clear as daylight. When the duke arrived at Sairmeuse, -Chupin, the old scoundrel, with his two rascally boys, and that old -hag, his wife, ran after the carriage like beggars after a diligence, -crying, 'Vive Monsieur le Duc!' The duke was enchanted, for he -doubtless expected a volley of stones, and he placed a six-franc piece -in the hand of each of the wretches. This money gave Chupin an -appetite for more, so he took it into his head to give this old noble -a reception like that which was given to the Emperor. Having learned -through Bibiaine, whose tongue is as long as a viper's, all that has -passed at the presbytery, between you, Monsieur Lacheneur, and the -duke, he came and proclaimed it in the market-place. When they heard -it, all who had purchased national lands were frightened. Chupin had -counted on this, and soon he began telling the poor fools that they -must burn powder under the duke's nose if they wished him to confirm -their titles to their property." - -"And did they believe him?" - -"Implicitly. It did not take them long to make their preparations. -They went to the town hall and took the firemen's rifles, and the guns -used for firing a salute on fete days; the mayor gave them the powder, -and you heard---- - -"When I left Sairmeuse there were more than two hundred idiots before -the presbytery, shouting: - -"/Vive Monseigneur! Vive le Duc de Sairmeuse/!" - -It was as d'Escorval had thought. - -"The same pitiful farce that was played in Paris, only on a smaller -scale," he murmured. "Avarice and human cowardice are the same the -world over!" - -Meanwhile, Chanlouineau was going on with his recital. - -"To make the fete complete, the devil must have warned all the -nobility in the neighborhood, for they all came running. They say that -Monsieur de Sairmeuse is a favorite with the King, and that he can get -anything he wishes. So you can imagine how they all greeted him! I am -only a poor peasant, but never would I lie down in the dust before any -man as these old nobles who are so haughty with us, did before the -duke. They kissed his hands, and he allowed them to do it. He walked -about the square with the Marquis de Courtornieu----" - -"And his son?" interrupted Maurice. - -"The Marquis Martial, is it not? He is also walking before the church -with Mademoiselle Blanche de Courtornieu upon his arm. Ah! I do not -understand how people can call her pretty--a little bit of a thing, so -blond that one might suppose her hair was gray. Ah! how those two -laughed and made fun of the peasants. They say they are going to marry -each other. And even this evening there is to be a banquet at the -Chateau de Courtornieu in honor of the duke." - -He had told all he knew. He paused. - -"You have forgotten only one thing," said M. Lacheneur; "that is, to -tell us how your clothing happened to be torn, as if you had been -fighting." - -The young farmer hesitated for a moment, then replied, somewhat -brusquely: - -"I can tell you, all the same. While Chupin was preaching, I also -preached, but not in the same strain. The scoundrel reported me. So, -in crossing the square, the duke paused before me and remarked: 'So -you are an evil-disposed person?' I said no, but that I knew my -rights. Then he took me by the coat and shook me, and told me that he -would cure me, and that he would take possession of /his/ vineyard -again. /Saint Dieu/! When I felt the old rascal's hand upon me my -blood boiled. I pinioned him. Fortunately, six or seven men fell upon -me, and compelled me to let him go. But he had better make up his mind -not to come prowling around my vineyard!" - -He clinched his hands, his eyes blazed ominously, his whole person -breathed an intense desire for vengeance. - -And M. d'Escorval was silent, fearing to aggravate this hatred, so -imprudently kindled, and whose explosion, he believed, would be -terrible. - -M. Lacheneur had risen from his chair. - -"I must go and take possession of my cottage," he remarked to -Chanlouineau; "you will accompany me; I have a proposition to make to -you." - -M. and Mme. d'Escorval endeavored to detain him, but he would not -allow himself to be persuaded, and he departed with his daughter. - -But Maurice did not despair; Marie-Anne had promised to meet him the -following day in the pine-grove near the Reche. - - - -CHAPTER VII - -The demonstrations which had greeted the Duc de Sairmeuse had been -correctly reported by Chanlouineau. - -Chupin had found the secret of kindling to a white heat the enthusiasm -of the cold and calculating peasants who were his neighbors. - -He was a dangerous rascal, the old robber, shrewd and cautious; bold, -as those who possess nothing can afford to be; as patient as a savage; -in short, one of the most consummate scoundrels that ever existed. - -The peasants feared him, and yet they had no conception of his real -character. - -All his resources of mind had, until now, been expended in evading the -precipice of the rural code. - -To save himself from falling into the hands of the gendarmes, and to -steal a few sacks of wheat, he had expended treasures of intrigue -which would have made the fortunes of twenty diplomats. - -Circumstances, as he always said, had been against him. - -So he desperately caught at the first and only opportunity worthy of -his talent, which had ever presented itself. - -Of course, the wily rustic had said nothing of the true circumstances -which attended the restoration of Sairmeuse to its former owner. - -From him, the peasants learned only the bare fact; and the news spread -rapidly from group to group. - -"Monsieur Lacheneur has given up Sairmeuse," said he. "Chateau, -forests, vineyards, fields--he surrenders everything." - -This was enough, and more than enough to terrify every land-owner in -the village. - -If Lacheneur, this man who was so powerful in their eyes, considered -the danger so threatening that he deemed it necessary or advisable to -make a complete surrender, what was to become of them--poor devils-- -without aid, without counsel, without defence? - -They were told that the government was about to betray their -interests; that a decree was in process of preparation which would -render their title-deeds worthless. They could see no hope of -salvation, except through the duke's generosity--that generosity which -Chupin painted with the glowing colors of the rainbow. - -When one is not strong enough to weather the gale, one must bow like -the reed before it and rise again after the storm has passed; such was -their conclusion. - -And they bowed. And their apparent enthusiasm was all the more -vociferous on account of the rage and fear that filled their hearts. - -A close observer would have detected an undercurrent of anger and -menace in their shouts. - -Each man also said to himself: - -"What do we risk by crying, 'Vive le Duc?' Nothing; absolutely -nothing. If he is contented with that as a compensation for his lost -property--good! If he is not content, we shall have time afterward to -adopt other measures." - -So they shouted themselves hoarse. - -And while the duke was sipping his coffee in the little drawing-room -of the presbytery, he expressed his lively satisfaction at the scene -without. - -He, this /grand seigneur/ of times gone by, this man of absurd -prejudices and obstinate illusions; the unconquerable, and the -incorrigible--he took these acclamations, "truly spurious coin," as -Chateaubriand says, for ready money. - -"How you have deceived me, cure," he was saying to Abbe Midon. "How -could you declare that your people were unfavorably disposed toward -us? One is compelled to believe that these evil intentions exist only -in your own mind and in your own heart." - -Abbe Midon was silent. What could he reply? - -He could not understand this sudden revolution in public opinion--this -abrupt change from gloom and discontent to excessive gayety. - -There is somebody at the bottom of all this, he thought. - -It was not long before it became apparent who that somebody was. - -Emboldened by his success without, Chupin ventured to present himself -at the presbytery. - -He entered the drawing-room with his back rounded into a circle, -scraping and cringing, an obsequious smile upon his lips. - -And through the half-open door one could discern, in the shadows of -the passage, the far from reassuring faces of his two sons. - -He came as an ambassador, he declared, after an interminable litany of -protestations--he came to implore monseigneur to show himself upon the -public square. - -"Ah, well--yes," exclaimed the duke, rising; "yes, I will yield to the -wishes of these good people. Follow me, Marquis!" - -As he appeared at the door of the presbytery, a loud shout rent the -air; the rifles were discharged, the guns belched forth their smoke -and fire. Never had Sairmeuse heard such a salvo of artillery. Three -windows in the Boeuf Couronne were shattered. - -A veritable /grand seigneur/, the Duc de Sairmeuse knew how to -preserve an appearance of haughtiness and indifference. Any display of -emotion was, in his opinion, vulgar; but, in reality, he was -delighted, charmed. - -So delighted that he desired to reward his welcomers. - -A glance over the deeds handed him by Lacheneur had shown him that -Sairmeuse had been restored to him intact. - -The portions of the immense domain which had been detached and sold -separately were of relatively minor importance. - -The duke thought it would be politic, and, at the same time, -inexpensive, to abandon all claim to these few acres, which were now -shared by forty or fifty peasants. - -"My friends," he exclaimed, in a loud voice, "I renounce, for myself -and for my descendants, all claim to the lands belonging to my house -which you have purchased. They are yours--I give them to you!" - -By this absurd pretence of a gift, M. de Sairmeuse thought to add the -finishing touch to his popularity. A great mistake! It simply assured -the popularity of Chupin, the organizer of the farce. - -And while the duke was promenading through the crowd with a proud and -self-satisfied air, the peasants were secretly laughing and jeering at -him. - -And if they promptly took sides with him against Chanlouineau, it was -only because his gift was still fresh in their minds; except for -this---- - -But the duke had not time to think much about this encounter, which -produced a vivid impression upon his son. - -One of his former companions in exile, the Marquis de Courtornieu, -whom he had informed of his arrival, hastened to welcome him, -accompanied by his daughter, Mlle. Blanche. - -Martial could do no less than offer his arm to the daughter of his -father's friend; and they took a leisurely promenade in the shade of -the lofty trees, while the duke renewed his acquaintance with all the -nobility of the neighborhood. - -There was not a single nobleman who did not hasten to press the hand -of the Duc de Sairmeuse. First, he possessed, it was said, a property -of more than twenty millions in England. Then, he was the friend of -the King, and each neighbor had some favor to ask for himself, for his -relatives, or for his friends. - -Poor king! He should have had entire France to divide like a cake -between these cormorants, whose voracious appetites it was impossible -to satisfy. - -That evening, after a grand banquet at the Chateau de Courtornieu, the -duke slept in the Chateau de Sairmeuse, in the room which had been -occupied by Lacheneur, "like Louis XVIII.," he laughingly said, "in -the chamber of Bonaparte." - -He was gay, chatty, and full of confidence in the future. - -"Ah! it is good to be in one's own house!" he remarked to his son -again and again. - -But Martial responded only mechanically. His mind was occupied with -thoughts of two women who had made a profound impression upon his by -no means susceptible heart that day. He was thinking of those two -young girls, so utterly unlike. Blanche de Courtornieu--Marie-Anne -Lacheneur. - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -Only those who, in the bright springtime of life, have loved, have -been loved in return, and have suddenly seen an impassable gulf open -between them and happiness, can realize Maurice d'Escorval's -disappointment. - -All the dreams of his life, all his future plans, were based upon his -love for Marie-Anne. - -If this love failed him, the enchanted castle which hope had erected -would crumble and fall, burying him in the ruins. - -Without Marie-Anne he saw neither aim nor motive in his existence. -Still he did not suffer himself to be deluded by false hopes. Although -at first, his appointed meeting with Marie-Anne on the following day -seemed salvation itself, on reflection he was forced to admit that -this interview would change nothing, since everything depended upon -the will of another party--the will of M. Lacheneur. - -The remainder of the day he passed in mournful silence. The dinner- -hour came; he took his seat at the table, but it was impossible for -him to swallow a morsel, and he soon requested his parents' permission -to withdraw. - -M. d'Escorval and the baroness exchanged a sorrowful glance, but did -not allow themselves to offer any comment. - -They respected his grief. They knew that his was one of those sorrows -which are only aggravated by any attempt at consolation. - -"Poor Maurice!" murmured Mme. d'Escorval, as soon as her son had left -the room. And, as her husband made no reply: "Perhaps," she added, -hesitatingly, "perhaps it will not be prudent for us to leave him too -entirely to the dictates of his despair." - -The baron shuddered. He divined only too well the terrible -apprehensions of his wife. - -"We have nothing to fear," he replied, quickly; "I heard Marie-Anne -promise to meet Maurice to-morrow in the grove on the Reche." - -The anxious mother breathed more freely. Her blood had frozen with -horror at the thought that her son might, perhaps, be contemplating -suicide; but she was a mother, and her husband's assurances did not -satisfy her. - -She hastily ascended the stairs leading to her son's room, softly -opened the door, and looked in. He was so engrossed in his gloomy -revery that he had heard nothing, and did not even suspect the -presence of the anxious mother who was watching over him. - -He was sitting at the window, his elbows resting upon the sill, his -head supported by his hands, looking out into the night. - -There was no moon, but the night was clear, and over beyond the light -fog that indicated the course of the Oiselle one could discern the -imposing mass of the Chateau de Sairmeuse, with its towers and -fanciful turrets. - -More than once he had sat thus silently gazing at this chateau, which -sheltered what was dearest and most precious in all the world to him. - -From his windows he could see those of the room occupied by Marie- -Anne; and his heart always quickened its throbbing when he saw them -illuminated. - -"She is there," he thought, "in her virgin chamber. She is kneeling to -say her prayers. She murmurs my name after that of her father, -imploring God's blessing upon us both." - -But this evening he was not waiting for a light to gleam through the -panes of that dear window. - -Marie-Anne was no longer at Sairmeuse--she had been driven away. - -Where was she now? She, accustomed to all the luxury that wealth could -procure, no longer had any home except a poor thatch-covered hovel, -whose walls were not even whitewashed, whose only floor was the earth -itself, dusty as the public highway in summer, frozen or muddy in -winter. - -She was reduced to the necessity of occupying herself the humble abode -she, in her charitable heart, had intended as an asylum for one of her -pensioners. - -What was she doing now? Doubtless she was weeping. - -At this thought poor Maurice was heartbroken. - -What was his surprise, a little after midnight, to see the chateau -brilliantly illuminated. - -The duke and his son had repaired to the chateau after the banquet -given by the Marquis de Courtornieu was over; and, before going to -bed, they made a tour of inspection through this magnificent abode in -which their ancestors had lived. They, therefore, might be said to -have taken possession of the mansion whose threshold M. de Sairmeuse -had not crossed for twenty-two years, and which Martial had never -seen. - -Maurice saw the lights leap from story to story, from casement to -casement, until at last even the windows of Marie-Anne's room were -illuminated. - -At this sight the unhappy youth could not restrain a cry of rage. - -These men, these strangers, dared enter this virgin bower, which he, -even in thought, scarcely dared to penetrate. - -They trampled carelessly over the delicate carpet with their heavy -boots. Maurice trembled in thinking of the liberties which they, in -their insolent familiarity, might venture upon. He fancied he could -see them examining and handling the thousand petty trifles with which -young girls love to surround themselves; they opened the presses, -perhaps they were reading an unfinished letter lying upon her writing- -desk. - -Never until this evening had Martial supposed he could hate another as -he hated these men. - -At last, in despair, he threw himself upon his bed, and passed the -remainder of the night in thinking over what he should say to Marie- -Anne on the morrow, and in seeking some issue from this inextricable -labyrinth. - -He rose before daybreak, and wandered about the park like a soul in -distress, fearing, yet longing, for the hour that would decide his -fate. Mme. d'Escorval was obliged to exert all her authority to make -him take some nourishment. He had quite forgotten that he had passed -twenty-four hours without eating. - -When eleven o'clock sounded he left the house. - -The lands of the Reche are situated on the other side of the Oiselle. -Maurice, to reach his destination, was obliged to cross the river at a -ferry only a short distance from his home. When he reached the river- -bank he found six or seven peasants who were waiting to cross. - -These people did not observe Maurice. They were talking earnestly, and -he listened. - -"It is certainly true," said one of the men. "I heard it from -Chanlouineau himself only last evening. He was wild with delight. 'I -invite you all to the wedding!' he cried. 'I am betrothed to Monsieur -Lacheneur's daughter; the affair is decided.'" - -This astounding news positively stunned Maurice. He was actually -unable to think or to move. - -"Besides, he has been in love with her for a long time. Everyone knows -that. One had only to see his eyes when he met her--coals of fire were -nothing to them. But while her father was so rich he did not dare to -speak. Now that the old man has met with these reverses, he ventures -to offer himself, and is accepted." - -"An unfortunate thing for him," remarked a little old man. - -"Why so?" - -"If Monsieur Lacheneur is ruined, as they say----" - -The others laughed heartily. - -"Ruined--Monsieur Lacheneur!" they exclaimed in chorus. "How absurd! -He is richer than all of us together. Do you suppose that he has been -stupid enough not to have laid anything aside during all these years? -He has put this money not in grounds, as he pretends, but somewhere -else." - -"You are saying what is untrue!" interrupted Maurice, indignantly. -"Monsieur Lacheneur left Sairmeuse as poor as he entered it." - -On recognizing M. d'Escorval's son, the peasants became extremely -cautious. He questioned them, but could obtain only vague and -unsatisfactory answers. A peasant, when interrogated, will never give -a response which he thinks will be displeasing to his questioner; he -is afraid of compromising himself. - -The news he had heard, however, caused Maurice to hasten on still more -rapidly after crossing the Oiselle. - -"Marie-Anne marry Chanlouineau!" he repeated; "it is impossible! it is -impossible!" - - - -CHAPTER IX - -The Reche, literally translated the "Waste," where Marie-Anne had -promised to meet Maurice, owed its name to the rebellious and sterile -character of the soil. - -Nature seemed to have laid her curse upon it. Nothing would grow -there. The ground was covered with stones, and the sandy soil defied -all attempts to enrich it. - -A few stunted oaks rose here and there above the thorns and broom- -plant. - -But on the lowlands of the Reche is a flourishing grove. The firs are -straight and strong, for the floods of winter have deposited in some -of the clefts of the rock sufficient soil to sustain them and the wild -clematis and honeysuckle that cling to their branches. - -On reaching this grove, Maurice consulted his watch. It marked the -hour of mid-day. He had supposed that he was late, but he was more -than an hour in advance of the appointed time. - -He seated himself upon a high rock, from which he could survey the -entire Reche, and waited. - -The day was magnificent; the air intensely hot. The rays of the August -sun fell with scorching violence upon the sandy soil, and withered the -few plants which had sprung up since the last rain. - -The stillness was profound, almost terrible. Not a sound broke the -silence, not even the buzzing of an insect, nor a whisper of breeze in -the trees. All nature seemed sleeping. And on no side was there -anything to remind one of life, motion, or mankind. - -This repose of nature, which contrasted so vividly with the tumult -raging in his own heart, exerted a beneficial effect upon Maurice. -These few moments of solitude afforded him an opportunity to regain -his composure, to collect his thoughts scattered by the storm of -passion which had swept over his soul, as leaves are scattered by the -fierce November gale. - -With sorrow comes experience, and that cruel knowledge of life which -teaches one to guard one's self against one's hopes. - -It was not until he heard the conversation of these peasants that -Maurice fully realized the horror of Lacheneur's position. Suddenly -precipitated from the social eminence which he had attained, he found, -in the valley of humiliations into which he was cast, only hatred, -distrust, and scorn. Both factions despised and denied him. Traitor, -cried one; thief, cried the other. He no longer held any social -status. He was the fallen man, the man who /had/ been, and who was no -more. - -Was not the excessive misery of such a position a sufficient -explanation of the strangest and wildest resolutions? - -This thought made Maurice tremble. Connecting the stories of the -peasants with the words addressed to Chanlouineau at Escorval by M. -Lacheneur on the preceding evening, he arrived at the conclusion that -this report of Marie-Anne's approaching marriage to the young fanner -was not so improbable as he had at first supposed. - -But why should M. Lacheneur give his daughter to an uncultured -peasant? From mercenary motives? Certainly not, since he had just -refused an alliance of which he had been proud in his days of -prosperity. Could it be in order to satisfy his wounded pride, then? -Perhaps he did not wish it to be said that he owed anything to a son- -in-law. - -Maurice was exhausting all his ingenuity and penetration in -endeavoring to solve this mystery, when at last, on a foot-path which -crosses the waste, a woman appeared--Marie-Anne. - -He rose, but fearing observation, did not venture to leave the shelter -of the grove. - -Marie-Anne must have felt a similar fear, for she hurried on, casting -anxious glances on every side as she ran. Maurice remarked, not -without surprise, that she was bare-headed, and that she had neither -shawl nor scarf about her shoulders. - -As she reached the edge of the wood, he sprang toward her, and -catching her hand raised it to his lips. - -But this hand, which she had so often yielded to him, was now gently -withdrawn, with so sad a gesture that he could not help feeling there -was no hope. - -"I came, Maurice," she began, "because I could not endure the thought -of your anxiety. By doing so I have betrayed my father's confidence-- -he was obliged to leave home. I hastened here. And yet I promised him, -only two hours ago, that I would never see you again. You hear me-- -never!" - -She spoke hurriedly, but Maurice was appalled by the firmness of her -accent. - -Had he been less agitated, he would have seen what a terrible effort -this semblance of calmness cost the young girl. He would have -understood it from her pallor, from the contraction of her lips, from -the redness of the eyelids which she had vainly bathed with fresh -water, and which betrayed the tears that had fallen during the night. - -"If I have come," she continued, "it is only to tell you that, for -your own sake, as well as for mine, there must not remain in the -secret recesses of your heart even the slightest shadow of a hope. All -is over; we are separated forever! Only weak natures revolt against a -destiny which they cannot alter. Let us accept our fate -uncomplainingly. I wished to see you once more, and to say this: Have -courage, Maurice. Go away--leave Escorval--forget me!" - -"Forget you, Marie-Anne!" exclaimed the wretched young man, "forget -you!" - -His eyes met hers, and in a husky voice he added: - -"Will you then forget me?" - -"I am a woman, Maurice--" - -But he interrupted her: - -"Ah! I did not expect this," he said, despondently. "Poor fool that I -was! I believed that you would find a way to touch your father's -heart." - -She blushed slightly, hesitated, and said: - -"I have thrown myself at my father's feet; he repulsed me." - -Maurice was thunderstruck, but recovering himself: - -"It was because you did not know how to speak to him!" he exclaimed in -a passion of fury; "but I shall know--I will present such arguments -that he will be forced to yield. What right has he to ruin my -happiness with his caprices? I love you---by right of this love, you -are mine--mine rather than his! I will make him understand this, you -shall see. Where is he? Where can I find him?" - -Already he was starting to go, he knew not where. Marie-Anne caught -him by the arm. - -"Remain," she commanded, "remain! So you have failed to understand me, -Maurice. Ah, well! you must know the truth. I am acquainted now with -the reasons of my father's refusal; and though his decision should -cost me my life, I approve it. Do not go to find my father. If, moved -by your prayers, he gave his consent, I should have the courage to -refuse mine!" - -Maurice was so beside himself that this reply did not enlighten him. -Crazed with anger and despair, and with no remorse for the insult he -addressed to this woman whom he loved so deeply, he exclaimed: - -"Is it for Chanlouineau, then, that you are reserving your consent? He -believes so since he goes about everywhere saying that you will soon -be his wife." - -Marie-Anne shuddered as if a knife had entered her very heart; and yet -there was more sorrow than anger in the glance she cast upon Maurice. - -"Must I stoop so low as to defend myself from such an imputation?" she -asked, sadly. "Must I declare that if even I suspect such an -arrangement between Chanlouineau and my father, I have not been -consulted? Must I tell you that there are some sacrifices which are -beyond the strength of poor human nature? Understand this: I have -found strength to renounce the man I love--I shall never be able to -accept another in his place!" - -Maurice hung his head, abashed by her earnest words, dazzled by the -sublime expression of her face. - -Reason returned; he realized the enormity of his suspicions, and was -horrified with himself for having dared to give utterance to them. - -"Oh! pardon!" he faltered, "pardon!" - -What did the mysterious causes of all these events which had so -rapidly succeeded each other, or M. Lacheneur's secrets, or Marie- -Anne's reticence, matter to him now? - -He was seeking some chance of salvation; he believed that he had found -it. - -"We must fly!" he exclaimed: "fly at once without pausing to look -back. Before night we shall have passed the frontier." - -He sprang toward her with outstretched arms, as if to seize her and -bear her away; but she checked him by a single look. - -"Fly!" said she, reproachfully; "fly! and is it you, Maurice, who -counsel me thus? What! while misfortune is crushing my poor father to -the earth, shall I add despair and shame to his sorrows? His friends -have deserted him; shall I, his daughter, also abandon him? Ah! if I -did that, I should be the vilest, the most cowardly of creatures! If -my father, yesterday, when I believed him the owner of Sairmeuse, had -demanded the sacrifice to which I consented last evening, I might, -perhaps, have resolved upon the extreme measure you have counselled. -In broad daylight I might have left Sairmeuse on the arm of my lover. -It is not the world that I fear! But if one might consent to fly from -the chateau of a rich and happy father, one /cannot/ consent to desert -the poor abode of a despairing and penniless parent. Leave me, -Maurice, where honor holds me. It will not be difficult for me, who am -the daughter of generations of peasants, to become a peasant. Go! I -cannot endure more! Go! and remember that one cannot be utterly -wretched if one's conscience is clean, and one's duty fulfilled!" - -Maurice was about to reply, when a crackling of dry branches made him -turn his head. - -Scarcely ten paces off, Martial de Sairmeuse was standing motionless, -leaning upon his gun. - - - -CHAPTER X - -The Duc de Sairmeuse had slept little and poorly on the night -following his return, or his restoration, as he styled it. - -Inaccessible, as he pretended to be, to the emotions which agitate the -common herd, the scenes of the day had greatly excited him. - -He could not help reviewing them, although he made it the rule of his -life never to reflect. - -While exposed to the scrutiny of the peasants and of his acquaintances -at the Chateau de Courtornieu, he felt that his honor required him to -appear cold and indifferent, but as soon as he had retired to the -privacy of his own chamber, he gave free vent to his excessive joy. - -For his joy /was/ intense, almost verging on delirium. - -Now he was forced to admit to himself the immense service Lacheneur -had rendered him in restoring Sairmeuse. - -This poor man to whom he had displayed the blackest ingratitude, this -man, honest to heroism, whom he had treated as an unfaithful servant, -had just relieved him of an anxiety which had poisoned his life. - -Lacheneur had just placed the Duc de Sairmeuse beyond the reach of a -not probable, but very possible calamity which he had dreaded for some -time. - -If his secret anxiety had been made known, it would have created much -merriment. - -"Nonsense!" people would have exclaimed, "everyone knows that the -Sairmeuse possesses property to the amount of at least eight or ten -millions, in England." - -This was true. Only these millions, which had accrued from the estate -of the duchess and of Lord Holland, had not been bequeathed to the -duke. - -He enjoyed absolute control of this enormous fortune; he disposed of -the capital and of the immense revenues to please himself; but it all -belonged to his son--to his only son. - -The duke possessed nothing--a pitiful income of twelve hundred francs, -perhaps; but, strictly speaking, not even the means of subsistence. - -Martial, certainly, had never said a word which would lead him to -suspect that he had any intention of removing his property from his -father's control; but he might possibly utter this word. - -Had he not good reason to believe that sooner or later this fatal word -would be uttered? - -And even at the thought of such a contingency he shuddered with -horror. - -He saw himself reduced to a pension, a very handsome pension, -undoubtedly, but still a fixed, immutable, regular pension, by which -he would be obliged to regulate his expenditures. - -He would be obliged to calculate that two ends might meet--he, who had -been accustomed to inexhaustible coffers. - -"And this will necessarily happen sooner or later," he thought. "If -Martial should marry, or if he should become ambitious, or meet with -evil counsellors, that will be the end of my reign." - -He watched and studied his son as a jealous woman studies and watches -the lover she mistrusts. He thought he read in his eyes many thoughts -which were not there; and according as he saw him, gay or sad, -careless or preoccupied, he was reassured or still more alarmed. - -Sometimes he imagined the worst. "If I should quarrel with Martial," -he thought, "he would take possession of his entire fortune, and I -should be left without bread." - -These torturing apprehensions were, to a man who judged the sentiments -of others by his own, a terrible chastisement. - -Ah! no one would have wished his existence at the price he paid for it ---not even the poor wretches who envied his lot and his apparent -happiness, as they saw him roll by in his magnificent carriage. - -There were days when he almost went mad. - -"What am I?" he exclaimed, foaming with rage. "A mere plaything in the -hands of a child. My son owns me. If I displease him, he casts me -aside. Yes, he can dismiss me as he would a lackey. If I enjoy his -fortune, it is only because he is willing that I should do so. I owe -my very existence, as well as my luxuries, to his charity. But a -moment of anger, even a caprice, may deprive me of everything." - -With such ideas in his brain, the duke could not love his son. - -He hated him. - -He passionately envied him all the advantages he possessed--his youth, -his millions, his physical beauty, and his talents, which were really -of a superior order. - -We meet every day mothers who are jealous of their daughters, and some -fathers! - -This was one of those cases. - -The duke, however, showed no sign of mental disquietude; and if -Martial had possessed less penetration, he would have believed that -his father adored him. But if he had detected the duke's secret, he -did not allow him to discover it, nor did he abuse his power. - -Their manner toward each other was perfect. The duke was kind even to -weakness; Martial full of deference. But their relations were not -those of father and son. One was in constant fear of displeasing the -other; the other was a little too sure of his power. They lived on a -footing of perfect equality, like two companions of the same age. - -From this trying situation, Lacheneur had rescued the duke. - -The owner of Sairmeuse, an estate worth more than a million, the duke -was free from his son's tyranny; he had recovered his liberty. - -What brilliant projects flitted through his brain that night! - -He beheld himself the richest landowner in that locality; he was the -chosen friend of the King; had he not a right to aspire to anything? - -Such a prospect enchanted him. He felt twenty years younger--the -twenty years that had been passed in exile. - -So, rising before nine o'clock, he went to awaken Martial. - -On returning from dining with the Marquis de Courtornieu, the evening -before, the duke had gone through the chateau; but this hasty -examination by candle-light had not satisfied his curiosity. He wished -to see it in detail by daylight. - -Followed by his son, he explored one after another of the rooms of the -princely abode; and, with every step, the recollections of his infancy -crowded upon him. - -Lacheneur had respected everything. The duke found articles as old as -himself, religiously preserved, occupying the old familiar places from -which they had never been removed. - -When his inspection was concluded: - -"Decidedly, Marquis," he exclaimed, "this Lacheneur was not such a -rascal as I supposed. I am disposed to forgive him a great deal, on -account of the care which he has taken of our house in our absence." - -Martial seemed engrossed in thought. - -"I think, Monsieur," he said, at last, "that we should testify our -gratitude to this man by paying him a large indemnity." - -This word excited the duke's anger. - -"An indemnity!" he exclaimed. "Are you mad, Marquis? Think of the -income that he has received from my estate. Have you forgotten the -calculation made for us last evening by the Chevalier de la -Livandiere?" - -"The chevalier is a fool!" declared Martial promptly. "He forgot that -Lacheneur has trebled the value of Sairmeuse. I think that our family -honor requires us to bestow upon this man an indemnity of at least one -hundred thousand francs. This would, moreover, be a good stroke of -policy in the present state of public sentiment, and His Majesty -would, I am sure, be much pleased." - -"Stroke of policy"--"public sentiment"--"His Majesty." One might have -obtained almost anything from M. de Sairmeuse by these arguments. - -"Heavenly powers!" he exclaimed; "a hundred thousand francs! how you -talk! It is all very well for you, with your fortune! Still, if you -really think so----" - -"Ah! my dear sir, is not my fortune yours? Yes, such is really my -opinion. So much so, indeed, that if you will allow me to do so, I -will see Lacheneur myself, and arrange the matter in such a way that -his pride will not be wounded. His is a devotion which it would be -well to retain." - -The duke opened his eyes to their widest extent. - -"Lacheneur's pride!" he murmured. "Devotion which it would be well to -retain! Why do you sing in this strain? Whence comes this -extraordinary interest?" - -He paused, enlightened by a sudden recollection. - -"I understand!" he exclaimed; "I understand. He has a pretty -daughter." - -Martial smiled without replying. - -"Yes, pretty as a rose," continued the duke; "but one hundred thousand -francs! Zounds! That is a round sum to pay for such a whim. But, if -you insist upon it----" - -Armed with this authorization, Martial, two hours later, started on -his mission. - -The first peasant he met told him the way to the cottage which M. -Lacheneur now occupied. - -"Follow the river," said the man, "and when you see a pine-grove upon -your left, cross it." - -Martial was crossing it, when he heard the sound of voices. He -approached, recognized Marie-Anne and Maurice d'Escorval, and obeying -an angry impulse, he paused. - - - -CHAPTER XI - -During the decisive moments of life, when one's entire future depends -upon a word, or a gesture, twenty contradictory inspirations can -traverse the mind in the time occupied by a flash of lightning. - -On the sudden apparition of the young Marquis de Sairmeuse, Maurice -d'Escorval's first thought was this: - -"How long has he been there? Has he been playing the spy? Has he been -listening to us? What did he hear?" - -His first impulse was to spring upon his enemy, to strike him in the -face, and compel him to engage in a hand-to-hand struggle. - -The thought of Anne-Marie checked him. - -He reflected upon the possible, even probable results of a quarrel -born of such circumstances. The combat which would ensue would cost -this pure young girl her reputation. Martial would talk of it; and -country people are pitiless. He saw this girl, whom he looked so -devotedly upon, become the talk of the neighborhood; saw the finger of -scorn pointed at her, and possessed sufficient self-control to master -his anger. All these reflections had occupied only half a second. - -Then, politely touching his hat, and stepping toward Martial: - -"You are a stranger, Monsieur," said he, in a voice which was -frightfully altered, "and you have doubtless lost your way?" His words -were ill-chosen, and defeated his prudent intentions. A curt "Mind -your own business" would have been less wounding. He forgot that this -word "stranger" was the most deadly insult that one could cast in the -face of the former /emigres/, who had returned with the allied armies. - -Still the young marquis did not change his insolently nonchalant -attitude. - -He touched the visor of his hunting cap with his finger, and replied: - -"It is true--I have lost my way." - -Agitated as Marie-Anne was, she could not fail to understand that her -presence was all that restrained the hatred of these two young men. -Their attitude, the glance with which they measured each other, did -not leave the shadow of a doubt on that score. If one was ready to -spring upon the other, the other was on the alert, ready to defend -himself. - -The silence of nearly a moment which followed was as threatening as -the profound calm which precedes the storm. - -Martial was the first to break it. - -"A peasant's directions are not generally remarkable for their -clearness," he said, lightly; "and for more than an hour I have been -seeking the house to which Monsieur Lacheneur has retired." - -"Ah!" - -"I am sent to him by the Duc de Sairmeuse, my father." - -Knowing what he did, Maurice supposed that these strangely rapacious -individuals had some new demand to make. - -"I thought," said he, "that all relations between Monsieur Lacheneur -and Monsieur de Sairmeuse were broken off last evening at the house of -the abbe." - -This was said in the most provoking manner, and yet Martial never so -much as frowned. He had sworn that he would remain calm, and he had -strength enough to keep his word. - -"If these relations--as God forbid--have been broken off," he replied, -"believe me, Monsieur d'Escorval, it is no fault of ours." - -"Then it is not as people say?" - -"What people? Who?" - -"The people here in the neighborhood." - -"Ah! And what do these people say?" - -"The truth. That you have been guilty of an offence which a man of -honor could never forgive nor forget." - -The young marquis shook his head gravely. - -"You are quick to condemn, sir," he said, coldly. "Permit me to hope -that Monsieur Lacheneur will be less severe than yourself; and that -his resentment--just, I confess, will vanish before"--he hesitated-- -"before a truthful explanation." - -Such an expression from the lips of this haughty young aristocrat! Was -it possible? - -Martial profited by the effect he had produced to advance toward -Marie-Anne, and, addressing himself exclusively to her, seemed after -that to ignore the presence of Maurice completely. - -"For there has been a mistake--a misunderstanding, Mademoiselle," he -continued. "Do not doubt it. The Sairmeuse are not ingrates. How could -anyone have supposed that we would intentionally give offense to a-- -devoted friend of our family, and that at a moment when he had -rendered us a most signal service! A true gentleman like my father, -and a hero of probity like yours, cannot fail to esteem each other. I -admit that in the scene of yesterday, Monsieur de Sairmeuse did not -appear to advantage; but the step he takes today proves his sincere -regret." - -Certainly this was not the cavalier tone which he had employed in -addressing Marie-Anne, for the first time, on the square in front of -the church. - -He had removed his hat, he remained half inclined before her, and he -spoke in a tone of profound respect, as though it were a haughty -duchess, and not the humble daughter of that "rascal" Lacheneur whom -he was addressing. - -Was it only a /roue's/ manoeuvre? Or had he also involuntarily -submitted to the power of this beautiful girl? It was both; and it -would have been difficult for him to say where the voluntary ended, -and where the involuntary began. - -He continued: - -"My father is an old man who has suffered cruelly. Exile is hard to -bear. But if sorrows and deceptions have embittered his character, -they have not changed his heart. His apparent imperiousness and -arrogance conceal a kindness of heart which I have often seen -degenerate into positive weakness. And--why should I not confess it?-- -the Duc de Sairmeuse, with his white hair, still retains the illusions -of a child. He refuses to believe that the world has progressed during -the past twenty years. Moreover, people had deceived him by the most -absurd fabrications. To speak plainly, even while we were in -Montaignac, Monsieur Lacheneur's enemies succeeded in prejudicing my -father against him." - -One would have sworn that he was speaking the truth, so persuasive was -his voice, so entirely did the expression of his face, his glance, and -his gestures accord with his words. - -And Maurice, who felt--who was certain that the young man was lying, -impudently lying, was abashed by this scientific prevarication which -is so universally practised in good society, and of which he was -entirely ignorant. - -But what did the marquis desire here--and why this farce? - -"Need I tell you, Mademoiselle," he resumed, "all that I suffered last -evening in the little drawing-room in the presbytery? No, never in my -whole life can I recollect such a cruel moment. I understood, and I -did honor to Monsieur Lacheneur's heroism. Hearing of our arrival, he, -without hesitation, without delay, hastened to voluntarily surrender a -princely fortune--and he was insulted. This excessive injustice -horrified me. And if I did not openly protest against it--if I did not -show my indignation--it was only because contradiction drives my -father to the verge of frenzy. And what good would it have done for me -to protest? The filial love and piety which you displayed were far -more powerful in their effect than any words of mine would have been. -You were scarcely out of the village before Monsieur de Sairmeuse, -already ashamed of his injustice, said to me: 'I have been wrong, but -I am an old man; it is hard for me to decide to make the first -advance; you, Marquis, go and find Monsieur Lacheneur, and obtain his -forgiveness.'" - -Marie-Anne, redder than a peony, and terribly embarrassed, lowered her -eyes. - -"I thank you, Monsieur," she faltered, "in the name of my father--" - -"Oh! do not thank me," interrupted Martial, earnestly; "it will be my -duty, on the contrary, to render you thanks, if you can induce -Monsieur Lacheneur to accept the reparation which is due him--and he -will accept it, if you will only condescend to plead our cause. Who -could resist your sweet voice, your beautiful, beseeching eyes?" - -However inexperienced Maurice might be, he could no longer fail to -comprehend Martial's intentions. This man whom he mortally hated -already, dared to speak of love to Marie-Anne, and before him, -Maurice. In other words, the marquis, not content with having ignored -and insulted him, presumed to take an insolent advantage of his -supposed simplicity. - -The certainty of this insult sent all his blood in a boiling torrent -to his brain. - -He seized Martial by the arm, and with irresistible power whirled him -twice around, then threw him more than ten feet, exclaiming: - -"This last is too much, Marquis de Sairmeuse!" - -Maurice's attitude was so threatening that Martial fully expected -another attack. The violence of the shock had thrown him down upon one -knee; without rising, he lifted his gun, ready to take aim. - -It was not from anything like cowardice on the part of the Marquis de -Sairmeuse that he decided to fire upon an unarmed foe; but the affront -which he had received was so deadly and so ignoble in his opinion, -that he would have shot Maurice like a dog, rather than feel the -weight of his finger upon him again. - -This explosion of anger from Maurice Marie-Anne had been expecting and -hoping for every moment. - -She was even more inexperienced than her lover; but she was a woman, -and could not fail to understand the meaning of the young marquis. - -He was evidently "paying his court to her." And with what intentions! -It was only too easy to divine. - -Her agitation, while the marquis spoke in a more and more tender -voice, changed first to stupor, then to indignation, as she realized -his marvellous audacity. - -After that, how could she help blessing the violence which put an end -to a situation which was so insulting for her, and so humiliating for -Maurice? - -An ordinary woman would have thrown herself between the two men who -were ready to kill each other. Marie-Anne did not move a muscle. - -Was it not the duty of Maurice to protect her when she was insulted? -Who, then, if not he, should defend her from the insolent gallantry of -this libertine? She would have blushed, she who was energy -personified, to love a weak and pusillanimous man. - -But any intervention was unnecessary. Maurice comprehended that this -was one of those affronts which the person insulted must not seem to -suspect, under penalty of giving the offending party the advantage. - -He felt that Marie-Anne must not be regarded as the cause of the -quarrel! - -His instant recognition of the situation produced a powerful reaction -in his mind; and he recovered, as if by magic, his coolness and the -free exercise of his faculties. - -"Yes," he resumed, defiantly, "this is hypocrisy enough. To dare to -prate of reparation after the insults that you and yours have -inflicted, is adding intentional humiliation to insult--and I will not -permit it." - -Martial had thrown aside his gun; he now rose and brushed the knee of -his pantaloons, to which a few particles of dust had adhered, with a -phlegm whose secret he had learned in England. - -He was too discerning not to perceive that Maurice had disguised the -true cause of his outburst of passion; but what did it matter to him? -Had he avowed it, the marquis would not have been displeased. - -Yet it was necessary to make some response, and to preserve the -superiority which he imagined he had maintained up to that time. - -"You will never know, Monsieur," he said, glancing alternately at his -gun and at Marie-Anne, "all that you owe to Mademoiselle Lacheneur. We -shall meet again, I hope--" - -"You have made that remark before," Maurice interrupted, tauntingly. -"Nothing is easier than to find me. The first peasant you meet will -point out the house of Baron d'Escorval." - -"/Eh bien/! sir, I cannot promise that you will not see two of my -friends." - -"Oh! whenever it may please you!" - -"Certainly; but it would gratify me to know by what right you make -yourself the judge of Monsieur Lacheneur's honor, and take it upon -yourself to defend what has not been attacked. Who has given you this -right?" - -From Martial's sneering tone, Maurice was certain that he had -overheard, at least a part of, his conversation with Marie-Anne. - -"My right," he replied, "is that of friendship. If I tell you that -your advances are unwelcome, it is because I know that Monsieur -Lacheneur will accept nothing from you. No, nothing, under whatever -guise you may offer these alms which you tender merely to appease your -own conscience. He will never forgive the affront which is his honor -and your shame. Ah! you thought to degrade him, Messieurs de -Sairmeuse! and you have lifted him far above your mock grandeur. /He/ -receive anything from you! Go; learn that your millions will never -give you a pleasure equal to the ineffable joy he will feel, when -seeing you roll by in your carriage, he says to himself: 'Those people -owe everything to me!'" - -His burning words vibrated with such intensity of feeling that Marie- -Anne could not resist the impulse to press his hand; and this gesture -was his revenge upon Martial, who turned pale with passion. - -"But I have still another right," continued Maurice. "My father -yesterday had the honor of asking of Monsieur Lacheneur the hand of -his daughter----" - -"And I refused it!" cried a terrible voice. - -Marie-Anne and both young men turned with the same movement of alarm -and surprise. - -M. Lacheneur stood before them, and by his side was Chanlouineau, who -surveyed the group with threatening eyes. - -"Yes, I refused it," resumed M. Lacheneur, "and I do not believe that -my daughter will marry anyone without my consent. What did you promise -me this morning, Marie-Anne? Can it be you, you who grant a rendezvous -to gallants in the forest? Return to the house, instantly----" - -"But father----" - -"Return!" he repeated with an oath; "return, I command you." - -She obeyed and departed, not without giving Maurice a look in which he -read a farewell that she believed would be eternal. - -As soon as she had gone, perhaps twenty paces, M. Lacheneur, with -folded arms, confronted Maurice. - -"As for you, Monsieur d'Escorval," said he, rudely, "I hope that you -will no longer undertake to prowl around my daughter----" - -"I swear to you, Monsieur--" - -"Oh, no oaths, if you please. It is an evil action to endeavor to turn -a young girl from her duty, which is obedience. You have broken -forever all relations between your family and mine." - -The poor youth tried to excuse himself, but M. Lacheneur interrupted -him. - -"Enough! enough!" said he; "go back to your home." - -And as Maurice hesitated, he seized him by the collar and dragged him -to the little footpath leading through the grove. - -It was the work of scarcely ten seconds, and yet, he found time to -whisper in the young man's ear, in his formerly friendly tones: - -"Go, you little wretch! do you wish to render all my precautions -useless?" - -He watched Maurice as he disappeared, bewildered by the scene he had -just witnessed, and stupefied by what he had just heard; and it was -not until he saw that young d'Escorval was out of hearing that he -turned to Martial. - -"As I have had the honor of meeting you, Monsieur le Marquis," said -he, "I deem it my duty to inform you that Chupin and his sons are -searching for you everywhere. It is at the instance of the duke, your -father, who is anxious for you to repair at once to the Chateau de -Courtornieu." - -He turned to Chanlouineau, and added: - -"We will now proceed on our way." - -But Martial detained him with a gesture. - -"I am much surprised to hear that they are seeking me," said he. "My -father knows very well where he sent me; I was going to your house, -Monsieur, and at his request." - -"To my house?" - -"To your house, yes, Monsieur, to express our sincere regret at the -scene which took place at the presbytery last evening." - -And without waiting for any response, Martial, with wonderful -cleverness and felicity of expression, began to repeat to the father -the story which he had just related to the daughter. - -According to his version, his father and himself were in despair. How -could M. Lacheneur suppose them guilty of such black ingratitude? Why -had he retired so precipitately? The Duc de Sairmeuse held at M. -Lacheneur's disposal any amount which it might please him to mention-- -sixty, a hundred thousand francs, even more. - -But M. Lacheneur did not appear to be dazzled in the least; and when -Martial had concluded, he replied, respectfully, but coldly, that he -would consider the matter. - -This coldness amazed Chanlouineai; he did not conceal the fact when -the marquis, after many earnest protestations, at last wended his way -homeward. - -"We have misjudged these people," he declared. - -But M. Lacheneur shrugged his shoulders. - -"And so you are foolish enough to suppose that it was to me that he -offered all that money?" - -"Zounds! I have ears." - -"Ah, well! my poor boy, you must not believe all they hear, if you -have. The truth is, that these large sums were intended to win the -favor of my daughter. She has pleased this coxcomb of a marquis; and-- -he wishes to make her his mistress----" - -Chanlouineau stopped short, with eyes flashing, and hands clinched. - -"Good God!" he exclaimed; "prove that, and I am yours, body and soul-- -to do anything you desire." - - - -CHAPTER XII - -"No, never in my whole life have I met a woman who can compare with -this Marie-Anne! What grace and what dignity! Ah! her beauty is -divine!" - -So Martial was thinking while returning to Sairmeuse after his -proposals to M. Lacheneur. - -At the risk of losing his way he took the shortest course, which led -across the fields and over ditches, which he leaped with the aid of -his gun. - -He found a pleasure, entirely novel and very delightful, in picturing -Marie-Anne as he had just seen her, blushing and paling, about to -swoon, then lifting her head haughtily in her pride and disdain. - -Who would have suspected that such indomitable energy and such an -impassioned soul was hidden beneath such girlish artlessness and -apparent coldness? What an adorable expression illumined her face, -what passion shone in those great black eyes when she looked at that -little fool d'Escorval! What would not one give to be regarded thus, -even for a moment? How could the boy help being crazy about her? - -He himself loved her, without being, as yet, willing, to confess it. -What other name could be given to this passion which had overpowered -reason, and to the furious desires which agitated him? - -"Ah!" he exclaimed, "she shall be mine. Yes, she shall be mine; I will -have her!" - -Consequently he began to study the strategic side of the undertaking -which this resolution involved with the sagacity of one who had not -been without an extended experience in such matters. - -His debut, he was forced to admit, had been neither fortunate nor -adroit. Conveyed compliments and money had both been rejected. If -Marie-Anne had heard his covert insinuations with evident horror, M. -Lacheneur had received, with even more than coldness, his advances and -his offers of actual wealth. - -Moreover, he remembered Chanlouineau's terrible eyes. - -"How he measured me, that magnificent rustic!" he growled. "At a sign -from Marie-Anne he would have crushed me like an eggshell, without a -thought of my ancestors. Ah! does he also love her? There will be -three rivals in that case." - -But the more difficult and even perilous the undertaking seemed, the -more his passions were inflamed. - -"My failures can be repaired," he thought. "Occasions of meeting shall -not be wanting. Will it not be necessary to hold frequent interviews -with Monsieur Lacheneur in effecting a formal transfer of Sairmeuse? I -will win him over to my side. With the daughter my course is plain. -Profiting by my unfortunate experience, I will, in the future, be as -timid as I have been bold; and she will be hard to please if she is -not flattered by this triumph of her beauty. D'Escorval remains to be -disposed of----" - -But this was the point upon which Martial was most exercised. - -He had, it is true, seen this rival rudely dismissed by M. Lacheneur; -and yet the anger of the latter had seemed to him too great to be -absolutely real. - -He suspected a comedy, but for whose benefit? For his, or for -Chanlouineau's? And yet, what could possibly be the motive? - -"And yet," he reflected, "my hands are tied; and I cannot call this -little d'Escorval to account for his insolence. To swallow such an -affront in silence is hard. Still, he is brave, there is no denying -that; perhaps I can find some other way to provoke his anger. But even -then, what could I do? If I harmed a hair of his head, Marie-Anne -would never forgive me. Ah! I would give a handsome sum in exchange -for some little device to send him out of the country." - -Revolving in his mind these plans, whose frightful consequences he -could neither calculate nor foresee, Martial was walking up the avenue -leading to the chateau, when he heard hurried footsteps behind him. - -He turned, and seeing two men running after him and motioning him to -stop, he paused. - -It was Chupin, accompanied by one of his sons. - -This old rascal had been enrolled among the servants charged with -preparing Sairmeuse for the reception of the duke; and he had already -discovered the secret of making himself useful to his master, which -was by seeming to be indispensable. - -"Ah, Monsieur," he cried, "we have been searching for you everywhere, -my son and I. It was Monsieur le Duc----" - -"Very well," said Martial, dryly. "I am returning----" - -But Chupin was not sensitive; and although he had not been very -favorably received, he ventured to follow the marquis at a little -distance, but sufficiently near to make himself heard. He also had his -schemes; for it was not long before he began a long recital of the -calumnies which had been spread about the neighborhood in regard to -the Lacheneur affair. Why did he choose this subject in preference to -any other? Did he suspect the young marquis's passion for Marie-Anne? - -According to this report, Lacheneur--he no longer said "monsieur"--was -unquestionably a rascal; the complete surrender of Sairmeuse was only -a farce, as he must possess thousands, and hundreds of thousands of -francs, since he was about to marry his daughter. - -If the scoundrel had felt only suspicions, they were changed into -certainty by the eagerness with which Martial demanded: - -"How! is Mademoiselle Lacheneur to be married?" - -"Yes, Monsieur." - -"And to whom?" - -"To Chanlouineau, the fellow whom the peasants wished to kill -yesterday upon the square, because he was disrespectful to the duke. -He is an avaricious man; and if Marie-Anne does not bring him a good -round sum as a dowry, he will never marry her, no matter how beautiful -she may be." - -"Are you sure of what you say?" - -"It is true. My eldest son heard from Chanlouineau and from Lacheneur -that the wedding would take place within a month." - -And turning to his son: - -"Is it not true, boy?" - -"Yes," promptly replied the youth, who had heard nothing of the kind. - -Martial was silent, ashamed, perhaps, of allowing himself to listen to -the gossip, but glad to have been informed of such an important -circumstance. - -If Chupin was not telling a falsehood--and what reason could he have -for doing so--it became evident that M. Lacheneur's conduct concealed -some great mystery. Why, without some potent motive, should he have -refused to give his daughter to Maurice d'Escorval whom she loved, to -bestow her upon a peasant? - -As he reached Sairmeuse, he was swearing that he would discover this -motive. A strange scene awaited him. In the broad open space extending -from the front of the chateau to the /parterre/ lay a huge pile of all -kinds of clothing, linen, plate, and furniture. One might have -supposed that the occupants of the chateau were moving. A half dozen -men were running to and fro, and standing in the centre of the rubbish -was the Duc de Sairmeuse, giving orders. - -Martial did not understand the whole meaning of the scene at first. He -went to his father, and after saluting him respectfully, inquired: - -"What is all this?" - -M. de Sairmeuse laughed heartily. - -"What! can you not guess?" he replied. "It is very simple, however. -When the lawful master, on his return, sleeps beneath the bed- -coverings of the usurper, it is delightful, the first night, not so -pleasant on the second. Everything here reminds me too forcibly of -Monsieur Lacheneur. It seems to me that I am in his house; and the -thought is unendurable. So I have had them collect everything -belonging to him and to his daughter--everything, in fact, which did -not belong to the chateau in former years. The servants will put it -all into a cart and carry it to him." - -The young marquis gave fervent thanks to Heaven that he had arrived -before it was too late. Had his father's project been executed, he -would have been obliged to bid farewell to all his hopes. - -"You surely will not do this, Monsieur le Duc?" said he, earnestly. - -"And why, pray? Who will prevent me from doing it?" - -"No one, most assuredly. But you will decide, on reflection, that a -man who has not conducted himself /too/ badly has a right to some -consideration." - -The duke seemed greatly astonished. - -"Consideration!" he exclaimed. "This rascal has a right to some -consideration! Well, this is one of the poorest of jokes. What! I give -him--that is to say--you give him a hundred thousand francs, and that -will not content him! He is entitled to consideration! You, who are -after the daughter, may give it to him if you like, but I shall do as -I like!" - -"Very well; but, Monsieur, I would think twice, if I were in your -place. Lacheneur has surrendered Sairmeuse. That is all very well; but -how can you authenticate your claim to the property? What would you do -if, in case you imprudently irritated him, he should change his mind? -What would become of your right to the estate?" - -M. Sairmeuse actually turned green. - -"Zounds!" he exclaimed. "I had not thought of that. Here, you fellows, -take all these things back again, and that quickly!" - -And as they were obeying his order: - -"Now," he remarked, "let us hasten to Courtornieu. They have already -sent for us twice. It must be business of the utmost importance which -demands our attention." - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -The Chateau de Courtornieu is, next to Sairmeuse, the most magnificent -habitation in the /arrondissement/ of Montaignac. - -The approach to the castle was by a long and narrow road, badly paved. -When the carriage containing Martial and his father turned from the -public highway into this rough road, the jolting aroused the duke from -the profound revery into which he had fallen on leaving Sairmeuse. - -The marquis thought that he had caused this unusual fit of -abstraction. - -"It is the result of my adroit manoeuvre," he said to himself, not -without secret satisfaction. "Until the restitution of Sairmeuse is -legalized, I can make my father do anything I wish; yes, anything. And -if it is necessary, he will even invite Lacheneur and Marie-Anne to -his table." - -He was mistaken. The duke had already forgotten the affair; his most -vivid impressions lasted no longer than an indentation in the sand. - -He lowered the glass in front of the carriage, and, after ordering the -coachman to drive more slowly: - -"Now," said he to his son, "let us talk a little. Are you really in -love with that little Lacheneur?" - -Martial could not repress a start. "Oh! in love," said he, lightly, -"that would perhaps be saying too much. Let me say that she has taken -my fancy; that will be sufficient." - -The duke regarded his son with a bantering air. - -"Really, you delight me!" he exclaimed. "I feared that this love- -affair might derange, at least for the moment, certain plans that I -have formed--for I have formed certain plans for you." - -"The devil!" - -"Yes, I have my plans, and I will communicate them to you later in -detail. I will content myself today by recommending you to examine -Mademoiselle Blanche de Courtornieu." - -Martial made no reply. This recommendation was entirely unnecessary. -If Mlle. Lacheneur had made him forget Mlle. de Courtornieu that -morning for some moments, the remembrance of Marie-Anne was now -effaced by the radiant image of Blanche. - -"Before discussing the daughter," resumed the duke, "let us speak of -the father. He is one of my strongest friends; and I know him -thoroughly. You have heard men reproach me for what they style my -prejudices, have you not? Well, in comparison with the Marquis de -Courtornieu, I am only a Jacobin." - -"Oh! my father!" - -"Really, nothing could be more true. If I am behind the age in which I -live, he belongs to the reign of Louis XIV. Only--for there is an only ---the principles which I openly avow, he keeps locked up in his snuff- -box--and trust him for not forgetting to open it at the opportune -moment. He has suffered cruelly for his opinions, in the sense of -having so often been obliged to conceal them. He concealed them, -first, under the consulate, when he returned from exile. He -dissimulated them even more courageously under the Empire--for he -played the part of a kind of chamberlain to Bonaparte, this dear -marquis. But, chut! do not remind him of that proof of heroism; he has -deplored it bitterly since the battle of Lutzen." - -This was the tone in which M. de Sairmeuse was accustomed to speak of -his best friends. - -"The history of his fortune," he continued, "is the history of his -marriages--I say /marriages/, because he has married a number of -times, and always advantageously. Yes, in a period of fifteen years he -has had the misfortune of losing three wives, each richer than the -other. His daughter is the child of his third and last wife, a Cisse -Blossac--she died in 1809. He comforted himself after each bereavement -by purchasing a quantity of lands or bonds. So that now he is as rich -as you are, Marquis, and his influence is powerful and widespread. I -forgot one detail, however, he believes, they tell me, in the growing -power of the clergy, and has become very devout." - -He checked himself; the carriage had stopped before the entrance of -the Chateau de Courtornieu, and the marquis came forward to receive -his guests in person. A nattering distinction, which he seldom -lavished upon his visitors. The marquis was long rather than tall, and -very solemn in deportment. The head that surmounted his angular form -was remarkably small, a characteristic of his race, and covered with -thin, glossy black hair, and lighted by cold, round black eyes. - -The pride that becomes a gentleman, and the humility that befits a -Christian, were continually at war with each other in his countenance. - -He pressed the hands of M. de Sairmeuse and Martial, overwhelming them -with compliments uttered in a thin, rather nasal voice, which, issuing -from his immense body, was as astonishing as the sound of a flute -issuing from the pipes of an orphicleide would be. - -"At last you have come," he said; "we were waiting for you before -beginning our deliberations upon a very grave, and also very delicate -matter. We are thinking of addressing a petition to His Majesty. The -nobility, who have suffered so much during the Revolution, have a -right to expect ample compensation. Our neighbors, to the number of -sixteen, are now assembled in my cabinet, transformed for the time -into a council chamber." - -Martial shuddered at the thought of all the ridiculous and tiresome -conversation he would probably be obliged to hear; and his father's -recommendation occurred to him. - -"Shall we not have the honor of paying our respects to Mademoiselle de -Courtornieu?" - -"My daughter must be in the drawing-room with our cousin," replied the -marquis, in an indifferent tone; "at least, if she is not in the -garden." - -This might be construed into, "Go and look for her if you choose." At -least Martial understood it in that way; and when they entered the -hall, he allowed his father and the marquis to go upstairs without -him. - -A servant opened the door of the drawing-room for him--but it was -empty. - -"Very well," said he; "I know my way to the garden." - -But he explored it in vain; no one was to be found. - -He decided to return to the house and march bravely into the presence -of the dreaded enemy. He had turned to retrace his steps when, through -the foliage of a bower of jasmine, he thought he could distinguish a -white dress. - -He advanced softly, and his heart quickened its throbbing when he saw -that he was right. - -Mlle. Blanche de Courtornieu was seated on a bench beside an old lady, -and was engaged in reading a letter in a low voice. - -She must have been greatly preoccupied, since she had not heard -Martial's footsteps approaching. - -He was only ten paces from her, so near that he could distinguish the -shadow of her long eyelashes. He paused, holding his breath, in a -delicious ecstasy. - -"Ah! how beautiful she is!" he thought. Beautiful? no. But pretty, -yes; as pretty as heart could desire, with her great velvety blue eyes -and her pouting lips. She was a blonde, but one of those dazzling and -radiant blondes found only in the countries of the sun; and from her -hair, drawn high upon the top of her head, escaped a profusion of -ravishing, glittering ringlets, which seemed almost to sparkle in the -play of the light breeze. - -One might, perhaps, have wished her a trifle larger. But she had the -winning charm of all delicate and /mignonnes/ women; and her figure -was of exquisite roundness, and her dimpled hands were those of an -infant. - -Alas! these attractive exteriors are often deceitful, as much and even -more so, than the appearances of a man like the Marquis de -Courtornieu. - -The apparently innocent and artless young girl possessed the parched, -hollow soul of an experienced woman of the world, or of an old -courtier. She had been so petted at the convent, in the capacity of -only daughter of a /grand seigneur/ and millionnaire; she had been -surrounded by so much adulation, that all her good qualities had been -blighted in the bud by the poisonous breath of flattery. - -She was only nineteen; and still it was impossible for any person to -have been more susceptible to the charms of wealth and of satisfied -ambition. She dreamed of a position at court as a school-girl dreams -of a lover. - -If she had deigned to notice Martial--for she had remarked him--it was -only because her father had told her that this young man would lift -his wife to the highest sphere of power. Thereupon she had uttered a -"very well, we will see!" that would have changed an enamoured -suitor's love into disgust. - -Martial advanced a few steps, and Mlle. Blanche, on seeing him, sprang -up with a pretty affectation of intense timidity. - -Bowing low before her, he said, gently, and with profound deference: - -"Monsieur de Courtornieu, Mademoiselle, was so kind as to tell me -where I might have the honor of finding you. I had not courage to -brave those formidable discussions inside; but----" - -He pointed to the letter the young girl held in her hand, and added: - -"But I fear that I am /de trap/." - -"Oh! not in the least, Monsieur le Marquis, although this letter which -I have just been reading has, I confess, interested me deeply. It was -written by a poor child in whom I have taken a great interest--whom I -have sent for sometimes when I was lonely--Marie-Anne Lacheneur." - -Accustomed from his infancy to the hypocrisy of drawing-rooms, the -young marquis had taught his face not to betray his feelings. - -He could have laughed gayly with anguish at his heart; he could have -preserved the sternest gravity when inwardly convulsed with merriment. - -And yet, this name of Marie-Anne upon the lips of Mlle. de -Courtornieu, caused his glance to waver. - -"They know each other!" he thought. - -In an instant he was himself again; but Mlle. Blanche had perceived -his momentary agitation. - -"What can it mean?" she wondered, much disturbed. - -Still, it was with the perfect assumption of innocence that she -continued: - -"In fact, you must have seen her, this poor Marie-Anne, Monsieur le -Marquis, since her father was the guardian of Sairmeuse?" - -"Yes, I have seen her, Mademoiselle," replied Martial, quietly. - -"Is she not remarkably beautiful? Her beauty is of an unusual type, it -quite takes one by surprise." - -A fool would have protested. The marquis was not guilty of this folly. - -"Yes, she is very beautiful," said he. - -This apparent frankness disconcerted Mlle. Blanche a trifle; and it -was with an air of hypocritical compassion that she murmured: - -"Poor girl! What will become of her? Here is her father, reduced to -delving in the ground." - -"Oh! you exaggerate, Mademoiselle; my father will always preserve -Lacheneur from anything of that kind." - -"Of course--I might have known that--but where will he find a husband -for Marie-Anne?" - -"One has been found already. I understand that she is to marry a youth -in the neighborhood, who has some property--a certain Chanlouineau." - -The artless school-girl was more cunning than the marquis. She had -satisfied herself that she had just grounds for her suspicions; and -she experienced a certain anger on finding him so well informed in -regard to everything that concerned Mlle. Lacheneur. - -"And do you believe that this is the husband of whom she had dreamed? -Ah, well! God grant that she may be happy; for we were very fond of -her, very--were we not, Aunt Medea?" - -Aunt Medea was the old lady seated beside Mlle. Blanche. - -"Yes, very," she replied. - -This aunt, or cousin, rather, was a poor relation whom M. de -Courtornieu had sheltered, and who was forced to pay dearly for her -bread; since Mlle. Blanche compelled her to play the part of echo. - -"It grieves me to see these friendly relations, which were so dear to -me, broken," resumed Mlle. de Courtornieu. "But listen to what Marie- -Anne has written." - -She drew from her belt where she had placed it, Mlle. Lacheneur's -letter and read: - - - "'My dear blanche--You know that the Duc de Sairmeuse has returned. - The news fell upon us like a thunder-bolt. My father and I had - become too much accustomed to regard as our own the deposit which - had been intrusted to our fidelity; we have been punished for it. - At least, we have done our duty, and now all is ended. She whom - you have called your friend, will be, hereafter, only a poor - peasant girl, as her mother was before her.'" - - -The most subtle observer would have supposed that Mlle. Blanche was -experiencing the keenest emotion. One would have sworn that it was -only by intense effort that she succeeded in restraining her tears-- -that they were even trembling behind her long lashes. - -The truth was, that she was thinking only of discovering, upon -Martial's face, some indication of his feelings. But now that he was -on guard, his features might have been marble for any sign of emotion -they betrayed. So she continued: - - - "'I should utter an untruth if I said that I have not suffered on - account of this sudden change. But I have courage; I shall learn - how to submit. I shall, I hope, have strength to forget, for I - /must/ forget! The remembrances of past felicity would render my - present misery intolerable.'" - - -Mlle. de Courtornieu suddenly folded up the letter. - -"You have heard it, Monsieur," said she. "Can you understand such -pride as that? And they accuse us, daughters of the nobility, of being -proud!" - -Martial made no response. He felt that his altered voice would betray -him. How much more would he have been moved, if he had been allowed to -read the concluding lines: - - - "One must live, my dear Blanche!" added Marie-Anne, "and I feel no - false shame in asking you to aid me. I sew very nicely, as you - know, and I could earn my livelihood by embroidery if I knew more - people. I will call to-day at Courtornieu to ask you to give me a - list of ladies to whom I can present myself on your - recommendation." - - -But Mlle. de Courtornieu had taken good care not to allude to the -touching request. She had read the letter to Martial as a test. She -had not succeeded; so much the worse. She rose and accepted his arm to -return to the house. - -She seemed to have forgotten her friend, and she was chatting gayly. -When they approached the chateau, she was interrupted by a sound of -voices raised to the highest pitch. - -It was the address to the King which was agitating the council -convened in M. de Courtornieu's cabinet. - -Mlle. Blanche paused. - -"I am trespassing upon your kindness, Monsieur. I am boring you with -my silly chat when you should undoubtedly be up there." - -"Certainly not," he replied, laughing. "What should I do there? The -role of men of action does not begin until the orators have -concluded." - -He spoke so energetically, in spite of his jesting tone, that Mlle. de -Courtornieu was fascinated. She saw before her, she believed, a man -who, as her father had said, would rise to the highest position in the -political world. - -Unfortunately, her admiration was disturbed by a ring of the great -bell that always announces visitors. - -She trembled, let go her hold on Martial's arm, and said, very -earnestly: - -"Ah, no matter. I wish very much to know what is going on up there. If -I ask my father, he will laugh at my curiosity, while you, Monsieur, -if you are present at the conference, you will tell me all." - -A wish thus expressed was a command. The marquis bowed and obeyed. - -"She dismisses me," he said to himself as he ascended the staircase, -"nothing could be more evident; and that without much ceremony. Why -the devil does she wish to get rid of me?" - -Why? Because a single peal of the bell announced a visitor for Mlle. -Blanche; because she was expecting a visit from her friend; and -because she wished at any cost to prevent a meeting between Martial -and Marie-Anne. - -She did not love him, and yet an agony of jealousy was torturing her. -Such was her nature. - -Her presentiments were realized. It was, indeed, Mlle. Lacheneur who -was awaiting her in the drawing-room. - -The poor girl was paler than usual; but nothing in her manner betrayed -the frightful anguish she had suffered during the past two or three -days. - -And her voice, in asking from her former friend a list of "customers," -was as calm and as natural as in other days, when she was asking her -to come and spend an afternoon at Sairmeuse. - -So, when the two girls embraced each other, their roles were reversed. - -It was Marie-Anne who had been crushed by misfortune; it was Mlle. -Blanche who wept. - -But, while writing a list of the names of persons in the neighborhood -with whom she was acquainted, Mlle. de Courtornieu did not neglect -this favorable opportunity for verifying the suspicions which had been -aroused by Martial's momentary agitation. - -"It is inconceivable," she remarked to her friend, "that the Duc de -Sairmeuse should allow you to be reduced to such an extremity." - -Marie-Anne's nature was so royal, that she did not wish an unjust -accusation to rest even upon the man who had treated her father so -cruelly. - -"The duke is not to blame," she replied, gently; "he offered us a very -considerable sum, this morning, through his son." - -Mlle. Blanche started as if a viper had stung her. - -"So you have seen the marquis, Marie-Anne?" - -"Yes." - -"Has he been to your house?" - -"He was going there, when he met me in the grove on the waste." - -She blushed as she spoke; she turned crimson at the thought of -Martial's impertinent gallantry. - -This girl who had just emerged from a convent was terribly -experienced; but she misunderstood the cause of Marie-Anne's -confusion. She could dissimulate, however, and when Marie-Anne went -away, Mlle. Blanche embraced her with every sign of the most ardent -affection. But she was almost suffocated with rage. - -"What!" she thought; "they have met but once, and yet they are so -strongly impressed with each other. Do they love each other already?" - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -If Martial had faithfully reported to Mlle. Blanche all that he heard -in the Marquis de Courtornieu's cabinet, he would probably have -astonished her a little. - -He, himself, if he had sincerely confessed his impressions and his -reflections, would have been obliged to admit that he was greatly -amazed. - -But this unfortunate man, who, in days to come, would be compelled to -reproach himself bitterly for the excess of his fanaticism, refused to -confess this truth even to himself. His life was to be spent in -defending prejudices which his own reason condemned. - -Forced by Mlle. Blanche's will into the midst of a discussion, he was -really disgusted with the ridiculous and intense greediness of M. de -Courtornieu's noble guests. - -Decorations, fortune, honors, power--they desired everything. - -They were satisfied that their pure devotion deserved the most -munificent rewards. It was only the most modest who declared that he -would be content with the epaulets of a lieutenant-general. - -Many were the recriminations, stinging words, and bitter reproaches. - -The Marquis de Courtornieu, who acted as president of the council, was -nearly exhausted with exclaiming: - -"Be calm, gentlemen, be calm! A little moderation, if you please!" - -"All these men are mad," thought Martial, with difficulty restraining -an intense desire to laugh; "they are insane enough to be placed in a -mad-house." - -But he was not obliged to render a report of the /seance/. The -deliberations were soon fortunately interrupted by a summons to -dinner. - -Mlle. Blanche, when the young marquis rejoined her, quite forgot to -question him about the doings of the council. - -In fact, what did the hopes and plans of these people matter to her. - -She cared very little about them or about the people themselves, since -they were below her father in rank, and most of them were not as rich. - -An absorbing thought--a thought of her future, and of her happiness, -filled her mind to the exclusion of all other subjects. - -The few moments that she had passed alone, after Marie-Anne's -departure, she had spent in grave reflection. - -Martial's mind and person pleased her. In him were combined all the -qualifications which any ambitious woman would desire in a husband-- -and she decided that he should be /her/ husband. Probably she would -not have arrived at this conclusion so quickly, had it not been for -the feeling of jealousy aroused in her heart. But from the very moment -that she could believe or suspect that another woman was likely to -dispute the possession of Martial with her, she desired him. - -From that moment she was completely controlled by one of those strange -passions in which the heart has no part, but which take entire -possession of the brain and lead to the worst of follies. - -Let the woman whose pulse has never quickened its beating under the -influence of this counterfeit of love, cast the first stone. - -That she could be vanquished in this struggle for supremacy; that -there could be any doubt of the result, were thoughts which never once -entered the mind of Mlle. Blanche. - -She had been told so often, it had been repeated again and again, that -the man whom she would choose must esteem himself fortunate above all -others. - -She had seen her father besieged by so many suitors for her hand. - -"Besides," she thought, smiling proudly, as she surveyed her -reflection in the large mirrors; "am I not as pretty as Marie-Anne?" - -"Far prettier!" murmured the voice of vanity; "and you possess what -your rival does not: birth, wit, the genius of coquetry!" - -She did, indeed, possess sufficient cleverness and patience to assume -and to sustain the character which seemed most likely to dazzle and to -fascinate Martial. - -As to maintaining this character /after/ marriage, if it did not -please her to do so, that was another matter! - -The result of all this was that during dinner Mlle. Blanche exercised -all her powers of fascination upon the young marquis. - -She was so evidently desirous of pleasing him that several of the -guests remarked it. - -Some were even shocked by such a breach of conventionality. But -Blanche de Courtornieu could do as she chose; she was well aware of -that. Was she not the richest heiress for miles and miles around? No -slander can tarnish the brilliancy of a fortune of more than a million -in hard cash. - -"Do you know that those two young people will have a joint income of -between seven and eight hundred thousand francs!" said one old -viscount to his neighbor. - -Martial yielded unresistingly to the charm of his position. - -How could he suspect unworthy motives in a young girl whose eyes were -so pure, whose laugh rang out with the crystalline clearness of -childhood! - -Involuntarily he compared her with the grave and thoughtful Marie- -Anne, and his imagination floated from one to the other, inflamed by -the strangeness of the contrast. - -He occupied a seat beside Mlle. Blanche at table; and they chatted -gayly, amusing themselves at the expense of the other guests, who were -again conversing upon political matters, and whose enthusiasm waxed -warmer and warmer as course succeeded course. - -Champagne was served with the dessert; and the company drank to the -allies whose victorious bayonets had forced a passage for the King to -return to Paris; they drank to the English, to the Prussians, and to -the Russians, whose horses were trampling the crops under foot. - -The name of d'Escorval heard, above the clink of the glasses, suddenly -aroused Martial from his dream of enchantment. - -An old gentleman had just risen, and proposed that active measures -should be taken to rid the neighborhood of the Baron d'Escorval. - -"The presence of such a man dishonors our country," said he, "he is a -frantic Jacobin, and admitted to be dangerous, since Monsieur Fouche -has him upon his list of suspected persons; and he is even now under -the surveillance of the police." - -This discourse could not have failed to arouse intense anxiety in M. -d'Escorval's breast had he seen the ferocity expressed on almost every -face. - -Still no one spoke; hesitation could be read in every eye. - -Martial, too, had turned so white that Mlle. Blanche remarked his -pallor and thought he was ill. - -In fact, a terrible struggle was going on in the soul of the young -marquis; a conflict between his honor and passion. - -Had he not longed only a few hours before to find some way of driving -Maurice from the country? - -Ah, well! the opportunity he so ardently desired now presented itself. -It was impossible to imagine a better one. If the proposed step was -taken the Baron d'Escorval and his family would be forced to leave -France forever! - -The company hesitated; Martial saw it, and felt that a single word -from him, for or against, would decide the matter. - -After a few minutes of frightful uncertainty, honor triumphed. - -He rose and declared that the proposed measure was bad--impolitic. - -"Monsieur d'Escorval," he remarked, "is one of those men who diffuse -around them a perfume of honesty and justice. Have the good sense to -respect the consideration which is justly his." - -As he had foreseen, his words decided the matter. The cold and haughty -manner which he knew so well how to assume, his few but incisive -words, produced a great effect. - -"It would evidently be a great mistake!" was the general cry. - -Martial reseated himself; Mlle. Blanche leaned toward him. - -"You have done well," she murmured; "you know how to defend your -friends." - -"Monsieur d'Escorval is not my friend," replied Martial, in a voice -which revealed the struggle through which he had passed. "The -injustice of the proposed measure incensed me, that is all." - -Mlle. de Courtornieu was not to be deceived by an explanation like -this. Still she added: - -"Then your conduct is all the more grand, Monsieur." - -But such was not the opinion of the Duc de Sairmeuse. On returning to -the chateau some hours later he reproached his son for his -intervention. - -"Why the devil did you meddle with the matter?" inquired the duke. "I -would not have liked to take upon myself the odium of the proposition, -but since it had been made----" - -"I was anxious to prevent such an act of useless folly!" - -"Useless folly! Zounds! Marquis, you carry matters with a high hand. -Do you think that this d----d baron adores you? What would you say if -you heard that he was conspiring against us?" - -"I should answer with a shrug of the shoulders." - -"You would! Very well; do me the favor to question Chupin." - - - -CHAPTER XV - -It was only two weeks since the Duc de Sairmeuse had returned to -France; he had not yet had time to shake the dust of exile from his -feet, and already his imagination saw enemies on every side. - -He had been at Sairmeuse only two days, and yet he unhesitatingly -accepted the venomous reports which Chupin poured into his ears. - -The suspicions which he was endeavoring to make Martial share were -cruelly unjust. - -At the moment when the duke accused the baron of conspiring against -the house of Sairmeuse, that unfortunate man was weeping at the -bedside of his son, who was, he believed, at the point of death. - -Maurice was indeed dangerously ill. - -His excessively nervous organization had succumbed before the rude -assaults of destiny. - -When, in obedience to M. Lacheneur's imperative order, he left the -grove on the Reche, he lost the power of reflecting calmly and -deliberately upon the situation. - -Marie-Anne's incomprehensible obstinacy, the insults he had received -from the marquis, and Lacheneur's feigned anger were mingled in -inextricable confusion, forming one immense, intolerable misfortune, -too crushing for his powers of resistance. - -The peasants who met him on his homeward way were struck by his -singular demeanor, and felt convinced that some great catastrophe had -just befallen the house of the Baron d'Escorval. - -Some bowed; others spoke to him, but he did not see or hear them. - -Force of habit--that physical memory which mounts guard when the mind -is far away--brought him back to his home. - -His features were so distorted with suffering that Mme. d'Escorval, on -seeing him, was seized with a most sinister presentiment, and dared -not address him. - -He spoke first. - -"All is over!" he said, hoarsely, "but do not be worried, mother; I -have some courage, as you shall see." - -He did, in fact, seat himself at the table with a resolute air. He ate -even more than usual; and his father noticed, without alluding to it, -that he drank much more wine than usual. - -He was very pale, his eyes glittered, his gestures were excited, and -his voice was husky. He talked a great deal, and even jested. - -"Why will he not weep," thought Mme. d'Escorval; "then I should not be -so much alarmed, and I could try to comfort him." - -This was Maurice's last effort. When dinner was over he went to his -room, and when his mother, who had gone again and again to listen at -his door, finally decided to enter his chamber, she found him lying -upon the bed, muttering incoherently. - -She approached him. He did not appear to recognize or even to see her. -She spoke to him. He did not seem to hear. His face was scarlet, his -lips were parched. She took his hand; it was burning; and still he was -shivering, and his teeth were chattering as if with cold. - -A mist swam before the eyes of the poor woman; she feared she was -about to faint; but, summoning all her strength, she conquered her -weakness and, dragging herself to the staircase, she cried: - -"Help! help! My son is dying!" - -With a bound M. d'Escorval reached his son's chamber, looked at him -and dashed out again, summoned a servant, and ordered him to gallop to -Montaignac and bring a physician without a moment's delay. - -There was, indeed, a doctor at Sairmeuse, but he was the most stupid -of men--a former surgeon in the army, who had been dismissed for -incompetency. The peasants shunned him as they would the plague; and -in case of sickness always sent for the cure. M. d'Escorval followed -their example, knowing that the physician from Montaignac could not -arrive until nearly morning. - -Abbe Midon had never frequented the medical schools, but since he had -been a priest the poor so often asked advice of him that he applied -himself to the study of medicine, and, aided by experience, he had -acquired a knowledge of the art which would have won him a diploma -from the faculty anywhere. - -At whatever hour of the day or night parishioners came to ask his -assistance, he was always ready--his only answer: "Let us go at once." - -And when the people of the neighborhood met him on the road with his -little box of medicine slung over his shoulder, they took off their -hats respectfully and stood aside to let him pass. Those who did not -respect the priest honored the man. - -For M. d'Escorval, above all others, Abbe Midon would make haste. The -baron was his friend; and a terrible apprehension seized him when he -saw Mme. d'Escorval at the gate watching for him. By the way in which -she rushed to meet him, he thought she was about to announce some -irreparable misfortune. But no--she took his hand, and, without -uttering a word, she led him to her son's chamber. - -The condition of the poor youth was really very critical; the abbe -perceived this at a glance, but it was not hopeless. - -"We will get him out of this," he said, with a smile that reawakened -hope. - -And with the coolness of an old practitioner, he bled him freely, and -ordered applications of ice to his head. - -In a moment all the household were busied in fulfilling the cure's -orders. He took advantage of the opportunity to draw the baron aside -in the embrasure of a window. - -"What has happened?" he asked. - -"A disappointment in love," M. d'Escorval replied, with a despairing -gesture. "Monsieur Lacheneur has refused the hand of his daughter, -which I asked in behalf of my son. Maurice was to have seen Marie-Anne -to-day. What passed between them I do not know. The result you see." - -The baroness re-entered the room, and the two men said no more. A -truly funereal silence pervaded the apartment, broken only by the -moans of Maurice. - -His excitement instead of abating had increased in violence. Delirium -peopled his brain with phantoms; and the name of Marie-Anne, Martial -de Sairmeuse and Chanlouineau dropped so incoherently from his lips -that it was impossible to read his thoughts. - -How long that night seemed to M. d'Escorval and his wife, those only -know who have counted each second beside the sick-bed of some loved -one. - -Certainly their confidence in the companion in their vigil was great; -but he was not a regular physician like the other, the one whose -coming they awaited. - -Just as the light of the morning made the candles turn pale, they -heard the furious gallop of a horse, and soon the doctor from -Montaignac entered. - -He examined Maurice carefully, and, after a short conference with the -priest: - -"/I/ see no immediate danger," he declared. "All that can be done has -been done. The malady must be allowed to take its course. I will -return." - -He did return the next day and many days after, for it was not until a -week had passed that Maurice was declared out of danger. - -Then he confided to his father all that had taken place in the grove -on the Reche. The slightest detail of the scene had engraved itself -indelibly upon his memory. When the recital was ended: - -"Are you quite sure," asked his father, "that you correctly understood -Marie-Anne's reply? Did she tell you that if her father gave his -consent to your marriage, she would refuse hers?" - -"Those were her very words." - -"And still she loves you?" - -"I am sure of it." - -"You were not mistaken in Monsieur Lacheneur's tone when he said to -you: 'Go, you little wretch! do you wish to render all my precautions -useless?'" - -"No." - -M. d'Escorval sat for a moment in silence. - -"This passes comprehension," he murmured at last. And so low that his -son could not hear him, he added: "I will see Lacheneur to-morrow; -this mystery must be explained." - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -The cottage where M. Lacheneur had taken refuge was situated on a hill -overlooking the water. - -It was, as he had said, a small and humble dwelling, but it was rather -less miserable than the abodes of most of the peasants of the -district. - -It was only one story high, but it was divided into three rooms, and -the roof was covered with thatch. - -In front was a tiny garden, in which a few fruit-trees, some withered -cabbages, and a vine which covered the cottage to the roof, managed to -find subsistence. - -This garden was a mere nothing, but even this slight conquest over the -sterility of the soil had cost Lacheneur's deceased aunt almost -unlimited courage and patience. - -For more than twenty years the poor woman had never, for a single day, -failed to throw upon her garden three or four basketfuls of richer -soil, which she was obliged to bring more than half a league. - -It had been more than a year since she died; but the little pathway -which her patient feet had worn in the performance of this daily task -was still distinctly visible. - -This was the path which M. d'Escorval, faithful to his resolution, -took the following day, in the hope of wresting from Marie-Anne's -father the secret of his inexplicable conduct. - -He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he failed to notice the -overpowering heat as he climbed the rough hill-side in the full glare -of the noonday sun. - -When he reached the summit, however, he paused to take breath; and -while wiping the perspiration from his brow, he turned to look back on -the road which he had traversed. - -It was the first time he had visited the spot, and he was surprised at -the extent of the landscape which stretched before him. - -From this point, which is the most elevated in the surrounding -country, one can survey the entire valley of the Oiselle, and discern, -in the distance, the redoubtable citadel of Montaignac, built upon an -almost inaccessible rock. - -This last circumstance, which the baron was afterward doomed to recall -in the midst of the most terrible scenes, did not strike him then. -Lacheneur's house absorbed all his attention. - -His imagination pictured vividly the sufferings of this unfortunate -man, who, only two days before, had relinquished the splendors of the -Chateau de Sairmeuse to repair to this wretched abode. - -He rapped at the door of the cottage. - -"Come in!" said a voice. - -The baron lifted the latch and entered. - -The room was small, with un-white-washed walls, but with no other -floor than the ground; no ceiling save the thatch that formed the -roof. - -A bed, a table and two wooden benches constituted the entire -furniture. - -Seated upon a stool, near the tiny window, sat Marie-Anne, busily at -work upon a piece of embroidery. - -She had abandoned her former mode of dress, and her costume was that -worn by the peasant girls. - -When M. d'Escorval entered she rose, and for a moment they remained -silently standing, face to face, she apparently calm, he visibly -agitated. - -He was looking at Marie-Anne; and she seemed to him transfigured. She -was much paler and considerably thinner; but her beauty had a strange -and touching charm--the sublime radiance of heroic resignation and of -duty nobly fulfilled. - -Still, remembering his son, he was astonished to see this -tranquillity. - -"You do not ask me for news of Maurice," he said, reproachfully. - -"I had news of him this morning, Monsieur, as I have had every day. I -know that he is improving; and that, since day before yesterday, he -has been allowed to take a little nourishment." - -"You have not forgotten him, then?" - -She trembled; a faint blush suffused throat and forehead, but it was -in a calm voice that she replied: - -"Maurice knows that it would be impossible for me to forget him, even -if I wished to do so." - -"And yet you have told him that you approve your father's decision!" - -"I told him so, Monsieur, and I shall have the courage to repeat it." - -"But you have made Maurice wretched, unhappy, child; he has almost -died." - -She raised her head proudly, sought M. d'Escorval's eyes, and when she -had found them: - -"Look at me, Monsieur. Do you think that I, too, do not suffer?" - -M. d'Escorval was abashed for a moment; but recovering himself, he -took Marie-Anne's hand, and pressing it affectionately, he said: - -"So Maurice loves you; you love him; you suffer; he has nearly died, -and still you reject him!" - -"It must be so, Monsieur." - -"You say this, my dear child--you say this, and you undoubtedly -believe it. But I, who have sought to discover the necessity of this -immense sacrifice, have failed to find it. Explain to me, then, why -this must be so, Marie-Anne. Who knows but you are frightened by -chimeras, which my experience can scatter with a breath? Have you no -confidence in me? Am I not an old friend? It may be that your father, -in his despair, has adopted extreme resolutions. Speak, let us combat -them together. Lacheneur knows how devotedly I am attached to him. I -will speak to him; he will listen to /me/." - -"/I/ can tell you nothing, Monsieur." - -"What! you are so cruel as to remain inflexible when a father entreats -you on his knees--a father who says to you: 'Marie-Anne, you hold in -your hands the happiness, the life, the reason of my son----'" - -Tears glittered in Marie-Anne's eyes, but she drew away her hand. - -"Ah! it is you who are cruel, Monsieur; it is you who are without -pity. Do you not see what I suffer, and that it is impossible for me -to endure further torture? No, I have nothing to tell you; there is -nothing you can say to my father. Why do you seek to impair my courage -when I require it all to struggle against my despair? Maurice must -forget me; he must never see me again. This is fate; and he must not -fight against it. It would be folly. We are parted forever. Beseech -Maurice to leave the country, and if he refuses, you, who are his -father, must command him to do so. And you, too, Monsieur, in Heaven's -name, flee from us. We shall bring misfortune upon you. Never return -here; our house is accursed. The fate that overshadows us will ruin -you also." - -She spoke almost wildly. Her voice was so loud that it penetrated an -adjoining room. - -The communicating door opened and M. Lacheneur appeared upon the -threshold. - -At the sight of M. d'Escorval he uttered an oath. But there was more -sorrow and anxiety than anger in his manner, as he said: - -"You, Monsieur, you here!" - -The consternation into which Marie-Anne's words had thrown M. -d'Escorval was so intense that it was with great difficulty he -stammered out a response. - -"You have abandoned us entirely; I was anxious about you. Have you -forgotten our old friendship? I come to you----" - -The brow of the former master of Sairmeuse remained overcast. - -"Why did you not inform me of the honor that the baron had done me, -Marie-Anne?" he said sternly. - -She tried to speak, but could not; and it was the baron who replied: - -"Why, I have but just come, my dear friend." - -M. Lacheneur looked suspiciously, first at his daughter, then at the -baron. - -"What did they say to each other while they were alone?" he was -evidently wondering. - -But, however great may have been his disquietude, he seemed to master -it; and it was with his old-time affability of manner that he invited -M. d'Escorval to follow him into the adjoining room. - -"It is my reception-room and my cabinet combined," he said, smiling. - -This room, which was much larger than the first, was as scantily -furnished; but it contained several piles of small books and an -infinite number of tiny packages. - -Two men were engaged in arranging and sorting these articles. - -One was Chanlouineau. - -M. d'Escorval did not remember that he had ever seen the other, who -was a young man. - -"This is my son, Jean, Monsieur," said Lacheneur. "He has changed -since you last saw him ten years ago." - -It was true. It had been, at least, ten years since the baron had seen -Lacheneur's son. - -How time flies! He had left him a boy; he found him a man. - -Jean was just twenty; but his haggard features and his precocious -beard made him appear much older. - -He was tall and well formed, and his face indicated more than average -intelligence. - -Still he did not impress one favorably. His restless eyes were always -invading yours; and his smile betrayed an unusual degree of -shrewdness, amounting almost to cunning. - -As his father presented him, he bowed profoundly; but he was very -evidently out of temper. - -M. Lacheneur resumed: - -"Having no longer the means to maintain Jean in Paris, I have made him -return. My ruin will, perhaps, be a blessing to him. The air of great -cities is not good for the son of a peasant. Fools that we are, we -send them there to teach them to rise above their fathers. But they do -nothing of the kind. They think only of degrading themselves." - -"Father," interrupted the young man; "father, wait, at least, until we -are alone!" - -"Monsieur d'Escorval is not a stranger." Chanlouineau evidently sided -with the son, since he made repeated signs to M. Lacheneur to be -silent. - -Either he did not see them, or he pretended not to see them, for he -continued: - -"I must have wearied you, Monsieur, by telling you again and again: 'I -am pleased with my son. He has a commendable ambition; he is working -faithfully; he will succeed.' Ah! I was a poor, foolish father! The -friend who carried Jean the order to return has enlightened me, to my -sorrow. This model young man you see here left the gaming-house only -to run to public balls. He was in love with a wretched little ballet- -girl in some low theatre; and to please this creature, he also went -upon the stage, with his face painted red and white." - -"To appear upon the stage is not a crime." - -"No; but it is a crime to deceive one's father and to affect virtues -which one does not possess! Have I ever refused you money? No. -Notwithstanding that, you have contracted debts everywhere, and you -owe at least twenty thousand francs." - -Jean hung his head; he was evidently angry, but he feared his father. - -"Twenty thousand francs!" repeated M. Lacheneur. "I had them a -fortnight ago; now I have nothing. I can hope to obtain this sum only -through the generosity of the Duc de Sairmeuse and his son." These -words from Lacheneur's lips astonished the baron. - -Lacheneur perceived it, and it was with every appearance of sincerity -and good faith that he resumed: - -"Does what /I say/ surprise you? I understand why. My anger at first -made me give utterance to all sorts of absurd threats. But I am calm -now, and I realize my injustice. What could I expect the duke to do? -To make me a present of Sairmeuse? He was a trifle brusque, I confess, -but that is his way; at heart he is the best of men." - -"Have you seen him again?" - -"No; but I have seen his son. I have even been with him to the chateau -to designate the articles which I desire to keep. Oh! he refused me -nothing. Everything was placed at my disposal--everything. I selected -what I wished--furniture, clothing, linen. It is all to be brought -here; and I shall be quite a /grand seigneur/." - -"Why not seek another house? This----" - -"This pleases me, Monsieur. Its situation suits me perfectly." - -In fact, why should not the Sairmeuse have regretted their odious -conduct? Was it impossible that Lacheneur, in spite of his -indignation, should conclude to accept honorable separation? Such were -M. d'Escorval's reflections. - -"To say that the marquis has been kind is saying too little," -continued Lacheneur. "He has shown us the most delicate attentions. -For example, having noticed how much Marie-Anne regrets the loss of -her flowers, he has declared that he is going to send her plants to -stock our small garden, and that they shall be renewed every month." - -Like all passionate men, M. Lacheneur overdid his part. This last -remark was too much; it awakened a sinister suspicion in M. -d'Escorval's mind. - -"Good God!" he thought, "does this wretched man meditate some crime?" - -He glanced at Chanlouineau, and his anxiety increased. On hearing the -names of the marquis and of Marie-Anne, the robust farmer had turned -livid. "It is decided," said Lacheneur, with an air of the lost -satisfaction, "that they will give me the ten thousand francs -bequeathed to me by Mademoiselle Armande. Moreover, I am to fix upon -such a sum as I consider a just recompense for my services. And that -is not all; they have offered me the position of manager at Sairmeuse; -and I was to be allowed to occupy the gamekeeper's cottage, where I -lived so long. But on reflection I refused this offer. After having -enjoyed for so long a time a fortune which did not belong to me, I am -anxious to amass a fortune of my own." - -"Would it be indiscreet in me to inquire what you intend to do?" - -"Not the least in the world. I am going to turn pedler." - -M. d'Escorval could not believe his ears. "Pedler?" he repeated. - -"Yes, Monsieur. Look, there is my pack in that corner." - -"But this is absurd!" exclaimed M. d'Escorval. "People can scarcely -earn their daily bread in this way." - -"You are wrong, Monsieur. I have considered the subject carefully; the -profits are thirty per cent. And if besides, there will be three of us -to sell goods, for I shall confide one pack to my son, and another to -Chanlouineau." - -"What! Chanlouineau?" - -"He has become my partner in the enterprise." - -"And his farm--who will take care of that?" - -"He will employ day-laborers." - -And then, as if wishing to make M. d'Escorval understand that his -visit had lasted quite long enough, Lacheneur began arranging the -little packages which were destined to fill the pack of the travelling -merchant. - -But the baron was not to be gotten rid of so easily, now that his -suspicions had become almost a certainty. - -"/I/ must speak with you," he said, brusquely. - -M. Lacheneur turned. - -"/I/ am very busy," he replied, with a very evident reluctance. - -"/I/ ask only five minutes. But if you have not the time to spare -to-day, I will return to-morrow--day after to-morrow--and every day -until I can see you in private." - -Lacheneur saw plainly that it would be impossible to escape this -interview, so, with the gesture of a man who resigns himself to a -necessity, addressing his son and Chanlouineau, he said: - -"Go outside for a few moments." - -They obeyed, and as soon as the door had closed behind them, Lacheneur -said: - -"I know very well, Monsieur, the arguments you intend to advance; and -the reason of your coming. You come to ask me again for Marie-Anne. I -know that my refusal has nearly killed Maurice. Believe me, I have -suffered cruelly at the thought; but my refusal is none the less -irrevocable. There is no power in the world capable of changing my -resolution. Do not ask my motives; I shall not reveal them; but rest -assured that they are sufficient." - -"Are we not your friends?" - -"You, Monsieur!" exclaimed Lacheneur, in tones of the most lively -affection, "you! ah! you know it well! You are the best, the only -friends, I have here below. I should be the basest and the most -miserable of men if I did not guard the recollection of all your -kindnesses until my eyes close in death. Yes, you are my friends; yes, -I am devoted to you--and it is for that very reason that I answer: no, -no, never!" - -There could no longer be any doubt. M. d'Escorval seized Lacheneur's -hands, and almost crushing them in his grasp: - -"Unfortunate man!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, "what do you intend to do? -Of what terrible vengeance are you dreaming?" - -"I swear to you----" - -"Oh! do not swear. You cannot deceive a man of my age and of my -experience. I divine your intentions--you hate the Sairmeuse family -more mortally than ever." - -"I?" - -"Yes, you; and if you pretend to forget it, it is only that they may -forget it. These people have offended you too cruelly not to fear you; -you understand this, and you are doing all in your power to reassure -them. You accept their advances--you kneel before them--why? Because -they will be more completely in your power when you have lulled their -suspicions to rest, and then you can strike them more surely----" - -He paused; the communicating door opened, and Marie-Anne appeared upon -the threshold. - -"Father," said she, "here is the Marquis de Sairmeuse." - -This name, which Marie-Anne uttered in a voice of such perfect -composure, in the midst of this excited discussion, possessed such a -powerful significance, that M. d'Escorval stood as if petrified. - -"He dares to come here!" he thought. "How can it be that he does not -fear the walls will fall and crush him?" - -M. Lacheneur cast a withering glance at his daughter. He suspected her -of a ruse which would force him to reveal his secret. For a second, -the most furious passion contracted his features. - -But, by a prodigious effort of will, he succeeded in regaining his -composure. He sprang to the door, pushed Marie-Anne aside, and leaning -out, he said: - -"Deign to excuse me, Monsieur, if I take the liberty of asking you to -wait a moment; I am just finishing some business, and I will be with -you in a moment." - -Neither agitation nor anger could be detected in his voice; but, -rather, a respectful deference, and a feeling of profound gratitude. - -Having said this, he closed the door and turned to M. d'Escorval. - -The baron, still standing with folded arms, had witnessed this scene -with the air of a man who distrusts the evidence of his own senses; -and yet he understood the meaning of it only too well. - -"So this young man comes here?" he said to Lacheneur. - -"Almost every day--not at this hour, usually, but a trifle later." - -"And you receive him? you welcome him?" - -"Certainly, Monsieur. How can I be insensible to the honor he confers -upon me? Moreover, we have subjects of mutual interest to discuss. We -are now occupied in legalizing the restitution of Sairmeuse. I can, -also, give him much useful information, and many hints regarding the -management of the property." - -"And do you expect to make me, your old friend, believe that a man of -your superior intelligence is deceived by the excuses the marquis -makes for these frequent visits? Look me in the eye, and then tell me, -if you dare, that you believe these visits are addressed to you!" - -Lacheneur's eye did not waver. - -"To whom else could they be addressed?" he inquired. - -This obstinate serenity disappointed the baron's expectations. He -could not have received a heavier blow. - -"Take care, Lacheneur," he said, sternly. "Think of the situation in -which you place your daughter, between Chanlouineau, who wishes to -make her his wife, and Monsieur de Sairmeuse, who desires to make -her----" - -"Who desires to make her his mistress--is that what you mean? Oh, say -the word. But what does that matter? I am sure of Marie-Anne." - -M. d'Escorval shuddered. - -"In other words," said he, in bitter indignation, "you make your -daughter's honor and reputation your stake in the game you are -playing." - -This was too much. Lacheneur could restrain his furious passion no -longer. - -"Well, yes!" he exclaimed, with a frightful oath, "yes, you have -spoken the truth. Marie-Anne must be, and will be, the instrument of -my plans. A man situated as I am is free from the considerations that -restrain other men. Fortune, friends, life, honor--I have been forced -to sacrifice all. Perish my daughter's virtue--perish my daughter -herself--what do they matter, if I can but succeed?" - -He was terrible in his fanaticism; and in his mad excitement he -clinched his hands as if he were threatening some invisible enemy; his -eyes were wild and bloodshot. - -The baron seized him by the coat as if to prevent his escape. - -"You admit it, then?" he said. "You wish to revenge yourself on the -Sairmeuse family, and you have made Chanlouineau your accomplice?" - -But Lacheneur, with a sudden movement, freed himself. - -"I admit nothing," he replied. "And yet I wish to reassure you----" - -He raised his hand as if to take an oath, and in a solemn voice, he -said: - -"Before God, who hears my words, by all that I hold sacred in this -world, by the memory of my sainted wife who lies beneath the sod, I -swear that I am plotting nothing against the Sairmeuse family; that I -had no thought of touching a hair of their heads. I use them only -because they are absolutely indispensable to me. They will aid me -without injuring themselves." - -Lacheneur, this time, spoke the truth. His hearer felt it; still he -pretended to doubt. He thought by retaining his own self-possession, -and exciting the anger of this unfortunate man still more, he might, -perhaps, discover his real intentions. So it was with an air of -suspicion that he said: - -"How can one believe this assurance after the avowal you have just -made?" - -Lacheneur saw the snare; he regained his self-possession as if by -magic. - -"So be it, Monsieur, refuse to believe me. But you will wring from me -only one more word on this subject. I have said too much already. I -know that you are guided solely by friendship for me; my gratitude is -great, but I cannot reply to your question. The events of the past few -days have dug a deep abyss between you and me. Do not endeavor to pass -it. Why should we ever meet again? I must say to you, what I said only -yesterday to Abbe Midon. If you are my friend, you will never come -here again--never--by night or by day, or under any pretext whatever. -Even if they tell you that I am dying, do not come. This house is -fatal. And if you meet me, turn away; shun me as you would a -pestilence whose touch is deadly!" - -The baron was silent. This was in substance what Marie-Anne had said -to him, only under another form. - -"But there is still a wiser course that you might pursue. Everything -here is certain to augment the sorrow and despair which afflicts your -son. There is not a path, nor a tree, nor a flower which does not -cruelly remind him of his former happiness. Leave this place; take him -with you, and go far away." - -"Ah! how can I do this? Fouche has virtually imprisoned me here." - -"All the more reason why you should listen to my advice. You were a -friend of the Emperor, hence you are regarded with suspicion; you are -surrounded by spies. Your enemies are watching for an opportunity to -ruin you. The slightest pretext would suffice to throw you into prison ---a letter, a word, an act capable of being misconstrued. The frontier -is not far off; go, and wait in a foreign land for happier times." - -"That is something which I will not do," said M. d'Escorval, proudly. - -His words and accent showed the folly of further discussion. Lacheneur -understood this only too well, and seemed to despair. - -"Ah! you are like Abbe Midon," he said, sadly; "you will not believe. -Who knows how much your coming here this morning will cost you? It is -said that no one can escape his destiny. But if some day the hand of -the executioner is laid upon your shoulder, remember that I warned -you, and do not curse me." - -He paused, and seeing that even this sinister prophecy produced no -impression upon the baron, he pressed his hand as if to bid him an -eternal farewell, and opened the door to admit the Marquis de -Sairmeuse. - -Martial was, perhaps, annoyed at meeting M. d'Escorval; but he -nevertheless bowed with studied politeness, and began a lively -conversation with M. Lacheneur, telling him that the articles he had -selected at the chateau were on their way. - -M. d'Escorval could do no more. To speak with Marie-Anne was -impossible: Chanlouineau and Jean would not let him go out of their -sight. - -He reluctantly departed, and oppressed by cruel forebodings, he -descended the hill which he had climbed an hour before so full of -hope. - -What should he say to Maurice? - -He had reached the little grove of pines when a hurried footstep -behind him made him turn. - -The Marquis de Sairmeuse was following him, and motioned him to stop. -The baron paused, greatly surprised; Martial, with that air of -ingenuousness which he knew so well how to assume, and in an almost -brusque tone, said: - -"I hope, Monsieur, that you will excuse me for having followed you, -when you hear what I have to say. I am not of your party; I loathe -what you adore; but I have none of the passion nor the malice of your -enemies. For this reason I tell you that if I were in your place I -would take a journey. The frontier is but a few miles away; a good -horse, a short gallop, and you have crossed it. A word to the wise is ---salvation!" - -And without waiting for any response, he turned and retraced his -steps. - -M. d'Escorval was amazed and confounded. - -"One might suppose there was a conspiracy to drive me away!" he -murmured. "But I have good reason to distrust the disinterestedness of -this young man." - -Martial was already far off. Had he been less preoccupied, he would -have perceived two figures in the wood. Mlle. Blanche de Courtornieu, -followed by the inevitable Aunt Medea, had come to play the spy. - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -The Marquis de Courtornieu idolized his daughter. Everyone spoke of -that as an incontestable and uncontested fact. - -When persons spoke to him of his daughter, they always said: - -"You, who adore your daughter----" - -And when he spoke of himself, /he/ said: - -"I who adore Blanche." - -The truth was, that he would have given a good deal, even a third of -his fortune, to be rid of her. - -This smiling young girl, who seemed such an artless child, had gained -an absolute control over him. She forced him to bow like a reed to her -every caprice--and Heaven knows she had enough of them! - -In the hope of making his escape, he had thrown her Aunt Medea; but in -less than three months that poor woman had been completely subjugated, -and did not serve to divert his daughter's attention from him, even -for a moment. - -Sometimes the marquis revolted, but nine times out of ten he paid -dearly for his attempts at rebellion. When Mlle. Blanche turned her -cold and steel-like eyes upon him with a certain peculiar expression, -his courage evaporated. Her weapon was irony; and knowing his weak -points, she struck with wonderful precision. - -It is easy to understand how devoutly he prayed and hoped that some -honest young man, by speedily marrying his daughter, would free him -from this cruel bondage. - -But where was he to find this liberator? - -The marquis had announced everywhere his intention of bestowing a -dowry of a million upon his daughter. Of course this had brought a -host of eager suitors, not only from the immediate neighborhood, but -from parts remote. - -But, unfortunately, though many of them would have suited M. de -Courtornieu well enough, not a single one had been so fortunate as to -please Mlle. Blanche. - -Her father presented some suitor; she received him graciously, -lavished all her charms upon him; but as soon as his back was turned, -she disappointed all her father's hopes by rejecting him. - -"He is too small," she said, "or too large. His rank is not equal to -ours. I think him stupid. He is a fool--his nose is so ugly." - -From these summary decisions there was no appeal. Arguments and -persuasions were useless. The condemned man no longer existed. - -Still, as this view of aspirants to her hand amused her, she -encouraged her father in his efforts. He was beginning to despair, -when fate dropped the Duc de Sairmeuse and son at his very door. When -he saw Martial, he had a presentiment of his approaching release. - -"He will be my son-in-law," he thought. - -The marquis believed it best to strike the iron while it was hot. So, -the very next day, he broached the subject to the duke. - -His overtures were favorably received. - -Possessed with the desire of transforming Sairmeuse into a little -principality, the duke could not fail to be delighted with an alliance -with one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the neighborhood. - -The conference was short. - -"Martial, my son, possesses, in his own right, an income of at least -six hundred thousand francs," said the duke. - -"I shall give my daughter at least--yes, at least fifteen hundred -thousand francs as her marriage portion," declared the marquis. - -"His Majesty is favorably disposed toward me. I can obtain any -important diplomatic position for Martial." - -"In case of trouble, I have many friends among the opposition." - -The treaty was thus concluded; but M. de Courtornieu took good care -not to speak of it to his daughter. If he told her how much he desired -the match, she would be sure to oppose it. Non-interference seemed -advisable. - -The correctness of his judgment was fully demonstrated. One morning -Mlle. Blanche made her appearance in his cabinet. - -"Your capricious daughter has decided, papa, that she would like to -become the Marquise de Sairmeuse," said she, peremptorily. - -It cost M. de Courtornieu quite an effort to conceal his delight; but -he feared if she discovered his satisfaction that the game would be -lost. - -He presented several objections; they were quickly disposed of; and, -at last, he ventured to say: - -"Then the marriage is half decided; one of the parties consents. It -only remains to ascertain if----" - -"The other will consent," declared the vain heiress. - -And, in fact, for several days Mlle. Blanche had been applying herself -assiduously and quite successfully to the work of fascination which -was to bring Martial to her feet. - -After having made an advance, with studied frankness and simplicity, -sure of the effect she had produced, she now proceeded to beat a -retreat--a manoeuvre so simple that it was almost sure to succeed. - -Until now she had been gay, /spirituette/, and coquettish; gradually, -she became quiet and reserved. The giddy school-girl had given place -to the shrinking virgin. - -With what perfection she played her part in the divine comedy of first -love! Martial could not fail to be fascinated by the modest -artlessness and chaste fears of the heart which seemed to be waking -for him. When he appeared, Mlle. Blanche blushed and was silent. At a -word from him she became confused. He could only occasionally catch a -glimpse of her beautiful eyes through the shelter of their long -lashes. - -Who had taught her this refinement of coquetry? They say that the -convent is an excellent teacher. - -But what she had not learned was that the most clever often become the -dupes of their own imagination; and that great /comediennes/ generally -conclude by shedding real tears. - -She learned this one evening, when a laughing remark made by the Duc -de Sairmeuse revealed the fact that Martial was in the habit of going -to Lacheneur's house every day. - -What she experienced now could not be compared with the jealousy, or -rather anger, which had previously agitated her. - -This was an acute, bitter, and intolerable sorrow. Before, she had -been able to retain her composure; now, it was impossible. - -That she might not betray herself, she left the drawing-room -precipitately and hastened to her own room, where she burst into a fit -of passionate sobbing. - -"Can it be that he does not love me?" she murmured. - -This thought made her cold with terror. For the first time this -haughty heiress distrusted her own power. - -She reflected that Martial's position was so exalted that he could -afford to despise rank; that he was so rich that wealth had no -attractions for him; and that she herself might not be so pretty and -so charming as flatterers had led her to suppose. - -Still Martial's conduct during the past week--and Heaven knows with -what fidelity her memory recalled each incident--was well calculated -to reassure her. - -He had not, it is true, formally declared himself, but it was evident -that he was paying his addresses to her. His manner was that of the -most respectful, but the most infatuated of lovers. - -Her reflections were interrupted by the entrance of her maid, bringing -a large bouquet of roses which had just been sent by Martial. - -She took the flowers, and while arranging them in a large Japanese -vase, she bedewed them with the first real sincere tears she had shed -since her entrance into the world. - -She was so pale and sad, so unlike herself when she appeared the next -morning at breakfast, that Aunt Medea was alarmed. - -Mlle. Blanche had prepared an excuse, and she uttered it in such sweet -tones that the poor lady was as much amazed as if she had witnessed a -miracle. - -M. de Courtornieu was no less astonished. - -"Of what new freak is this doleful face the preface?" he wondered. - -He was still more alarmed when, immediately after breakfast, his -daughter asked a moment's conversation with him. - -She followed him into his study, and as soon as they were alone, -without giving her father time to seat himself, Mlle. Blanche -entreated him to tell her all that had passed between the Duc de -Sairmeuse and himself, and asked if Martial had been informed of the -intended alliance, and what he had replied. - -Her voice was meek, her eyes tearful; her manner indicated the most -intense anxiety. - -The marquis was delighted. - -"My wilful daughter has been playing with fire," he thought, stroking -his chin caressingly; "and upon my word, she has burned herself." - -"Yesterday, my child," he replied, "the Duc de Sairmeuse formally -demanded your hand on behalf of his son; your consent is all that is -lacking. So rest easy, my beautiful, lovelorn damsel--you will be a -duchess." - -She hid her face in her hands to conceal her blushes. - -"You know my decision, father," she faltered, in an almost inaudible -voice; "we must make haste." - -He started back, thinking he had not heard her words aright. - -"Make haste!" he repeated. - -"Yes, father. I have fears." - -"What fears, in Heaven's name?" - -"I will tell you when everything is settled," she replied, as she made -her escape from the room. - -She did not doubt the reports which had reached her ears, of Martial's -frequent visits to Marie-Anne, but she wished to see for herself. - -So, as soon as she left her father, she obliged Aunt Medea to dress -herself, and without vouchsafing a single word of explanation, took -her with her to the Reche, and stationed herself where she could -command a view of M. Lacheneur's house. - -It chanced to be the very day on which M. d'Escorval came to ask an -explanation from his friend. She saw him come; then, after a little, -Martial made his appearance. - -She had not been mistaken--now she could go home satisfied. - -But no. She resolved to count the seconds which Martial passed with -Marie-Anne. - -M. d'Escorval did not remain long; she saw Martial hasten out after -him, and speak to him. - -She breathed again. His visit had not lasted a half hour, and -doubtless he was going away. Not at all. After a moment's conversation -with the baron, he returned to the house. - -"What are we doing here?" demanded Aunt Medea. - -"Let me alone!" replied Mlle. Blanche, angrily; "hold your tongue!" - -She heard the sound of wheels, the tramp of horses' hoofs, blows of -the whip, and oaths. - -The wagons bearing the furniture and clothing belonging to M. -Lacheneur were coming. This noise Martial must have heard within the -house, for he came out, and after him came M. Lacheneur, Jean, -Chanlouineau, and Marie-Anne. - -Everyone was soon busy in unloading the wagons, and positively, from -the movements of the young Marquis de Sairmeuse, one would have sworn -that he was giving orders; he came and went, hurrying to and fro, -talking to everybody, not even disdaining to lend a hand occasionally. - -"He, a nobleman, makes himself at home in that wretched hovel!" Mlle. -Blanche said to herself. "How horrible! Ah! this dangerous creature -will do with him whatever she desires." - -All this was nothing compared with what was to come. A third wagon -appeared, drawn by a single horse, and laden with pots of flowers and -shrubs. - -This sight drew a cry of rage from Mlle. de Courtornieu which must -have carried terror to Aunt Medea's heart. - -"Flowers!" she exclaimed, in a voice hoarse with passion. "He sends -flowers to her as he does to me--only he sends me a bouquet, while for -her he despoils the gardens of Sairmeuse." - -"What are you saying about flowers?" inquired the impoverished -relative. - -Mlle. Blanche replied that she had not made the slightest allusion to -flowers. She was suffocating--and yet she compelled herself to remain -there three mortal hours--all the time that was required to unload the -furniture. - -The wagons had been gone some time, when Martial again appeared upon -the threshold. - -Marie-Anne had accompanied him to the door, and they were talking -together. It seemed impossible for him to make up his mind to depart. - -He did so, at last, however; but he left slowly and with evident -reluctance. Marie-Anne, remaining in the door, gave him a friendly -gesture of farewell. - -"I wish to speak to this creature!" exclaimed Mlle. Blanche. "Come, -aunt, at once!" - -Had Marie-Anne, at that moment, been within the reach of Mlle. de -Courtornieu's voice, she would certainly have learned the secret of -her former friend's anger and hatred. - -But fate willed it otherwise. At least three hundred yards of rough -ground separated the place where Mlle. Blanche had stationed herself, -from the Lacheneur cottage. - -It required a moment to cross this space; and that was time enough to -change all the girl's intentions. - -She had not traversed a quarter of the distance before she bitterly -regretted having shown herself at all. But to retrace her steps now -was impossible, for Marie-Anne, who was still standing upon the -threshold, had seen her approaching. - -There remained barely time to regain her self-control, and to compose -her features. She profited by it. - -She had her sweetest smile upon her lips as she greeted Marie-Anne. -Still she was embarrassed; she did not know what excuse to give for -her visit, and to gain time she pretended to be quite out of breath. - -"Ah! it is not very easy to reach you, dear Marie-Anne," she said, at -last; "you live /upon/ the summit of a veritable mountain." - -Mlle. Lacheneur said not a word. She was greatly surprised, and she -did not attempt to conceal the fact. - -"Aunt Medea pretended to know the road," continued Mlle. Blanche, "but -she led me astray; did you not, aunt?" - -As usual, the impecunious relative assented, and her niece resumed: - -"But at last we are here. I could not, my dearest, resign myself to -hearing nothing from you, especially after all your misfortunes. What -have you been doing? Did my recommendation procure for you the work -you desired?" - -Marie-Anne could not fail to be deeply touched by this kindly interest -on the part of her former friend. So, with perfect frankness, and -without any false shame, she confessed that all her efforts had been -fruitless. It had even seemed to her that several ladies had taken -pleasure in treating her unkindly. - -But Mlle. Blanche was not listening. A few steps from her stood the -flowers brought from Sairmeuse; and their perfume rekindled her anger. - -"At least," she interrupted, "you have here what will almost make you -forget the gardens of Sairmeuse. Who sent you these beautiful -flowers?" - -Marie-Anne turned crimson. She did not speak for a moment, but at last -she replied, or rather stammered: - -"It is--an attention from the Marquis de Sairmeuse." - -"So she confesses it!" thought Mlle. de Courtornieu, amazed at what -she was pleased to consider an outrageous piece of impudence. - -But she succeeded in concealing her rage beneath a loud burst of -laughter; and it was in a tone of raillery that she said: - -"Take care, my dear friend; I am going to call you to account. It is -from my fiance that you are accepting flowers." - -"What! the Marquis de Sairmeuse?" - -"Has demanded the hand of your friend. Yes, my darling; and my father -has given it to him. It is a secret as yet; but I see no danger in -confiding in your friendship." - -She believed that she had inflicted a mortal wound upon Marie-Anne's -heart; but though she watched her closely, she failed to detect the -slightest trace of emotion upon her face. - -"What dissimulation!" she thought. Then aloud, and with affected -gayety, she resumed: - -"And the country folks will see two weddings at about the same time, -since you, also, are going to be married, my dear." - -"I!" - -"Yes, you, you little deceiver! Everybody knows that you are engaged -to a young man in the neighborhood, named--wait--I know-- -Chanlouineau." - -Thus the report that annoyed Marie-Anne so much reached her from every -side. - -"Everybody is for once mistaken," said she, energetically. "I shall -never be that young man's wife." - -"But why? They speak well of him, personally, and he is quite rich." - -"Because," faltered Marie-Anne, "because----" - -Maurice d'Escorval's name trembled upon her lips; but unfortunately -she did not utter it, prevented by a strange expression on the face of -her friend. How often one's destiny depends upon a circumstance -apparently as trivial as this! - -"Impudent, worthless creature!" thought Mlle. Blanche. - -Then, in cold and sneering tones, that betrayed her hatred -unmistakably, she said: - -"You are wrong, believe me, to refuse this offer. This Chanlouineau -will, at all events, save you from the painful necessity of laboring -with your own hands, and of going from door to door in quest of work -which is refused you. But, no matter; I"--she laid great stress upon -this word--"I will be more generous than your old acquaintances. I -have a great deal of embroidery to be done. I shall send it to you by -my maid, and you two may agree upon the price. We must go. Good-by, my -dear. Come, Aunt Medea." - -She departed, leaving Marie-Anne petrified with surprise, sorrow, and -indignation. - -Although less experienced than Mlle. Blanche, she comprehended that -this strange visit concealed some mystery--but what? - -For more than a minute she stood motionless, gazing after her -departing guests; then she started suddenly as a hand was laid gently -upon her shoulder. - -She trembled, and, turning quickly, found herself face to face with -her father. - -Lacheneur's face was whiter than his linen, and a sinister light -glittered in his eye. - -"I was there," said he, pointing to the door, "and--I heard all." - -"Father!" - -"What! would you try to defend her after she came here to crush you -with her insolent good fortune--after she overwhelmed you with her -ironical pity and with her scorn? I tell you they are all like this-- -these girls, whose heads have been turned by flattery, and who believe -that in their veins flows a different blood from ours. But patience! -The day of reckoning is near at hand!" - -Those whom he threatened would have shuddered had they seen him at -that moment, so terrible was the rage revealed by his accent, so -formidable did he appear. - -"And you, my beloved daughter, my poor Marie-Anne, you did not -understand the insults she heaped upon you. You are wondering why she -should have treated you with such disdain. Ah, well! I will tell you: -she imagines that the Marquis de Sairmeuse is your lover." - -Marie-Anne tottered beneath the terrible blow, and a nervous spasm -shook her from head to foot. - -"Can this be possible?" she exclaimed. "Great God! what shame! what -humiliation!" - -"And why should this astonish you?" said Lacheneur, coldly. "Have you -not expected this ever since the day when you, my devoted daughter, -consented, for the sake of my plans, to submit to the attentions of -this marquis, whom you loathe as much as I despise?" - -"But Maurice! Maurice will despise me! I can bear anything, yes, -everything but that." - -M. Lacheneur made no reply. Marie-Anne's despair was heart-breaking; -he felt that he could not bear to witness it, that it would shake his -resolution, and he re-entered the house. - -But his penetration was not at fault. While waiting to find a revenge -which would be worthy of her, Mlle. Blanche armed herself with a -weapon of which jealousy and hatred so often avail themselves-- -calumny. - -Two or three abominable stories which she concocted, and which she -forced Aunt Medea to circulate everywhere, did not produce the desired -effect. - -Marie-Anne's reputation was, of course, ruined by them; but Martial's -visits, instead of ceasing, became longer and more frequent. -Dissatisfied with his progress, and fearful that he was being duped, -he even watched the house. - -So it happened that, one evening, when he was quite sure that -Lacheneur, his son, and Chanlouineau were absent, Martial saw a man -leave the house and hasten across the fields. - -He rushed after him, but the man escaped him. - -He believed, however, that he recognized Maurice d'Escorval. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -After his son's confession, M. d'Escorval was prudent enough to make -no allusion to the hopes he, himself, entertained. - -"My poor Maurice," he thought, "is heart-broken, but resigned. It is -better for him to remain without hope than to be exposed to the danger -of another disappointment." - -But passion is not always blind. What the baron concealed, Maurice -divined; and he clung to this faint hope as tenaciously as a drowning -man clings to the plank which is his only hope of salvation. - -If he asked his parents no questions it was only because he was -convinced that they would not tell him the truth. - -But he watched all that went on in the house with that subtleness of -penetration which fever so often imparts. - -Not one of his father's movements escaped his vigilant eye and ear. - -Consequently, he heard him put on his boots, ask for his hat, and -select a cane from among those standing in the vestibule. He also -heard the outer gate grate upon its hinges. - -"My father is going out," he said to himself. - -And weak as he was, he succeeded in dragging himself to the window in -time to satisfy himself of the truth of his conjectures. - -"If my father is going out," he thought, "it can only be to visit -Monsieur Lacheneur---then he has not relinquished all hope." - -An arm-chair was standing nearby; he sank into it, intending to watch -for his father's return; by doing so, he might know his destiny a few -moments sooner. - -Three long hours passed before the baron returned. - -By his father's dejected manner he plainly saw that all hope was lost. -He was sure of it; as sure as the criminal who reads the fatal verdict -in the solemn face of the judge. - -He had need of all his energy to regain his couch. For a moment he -felt that he was dying. - -But he was ashamed of this weakness, which he judged unworthy of him. -He determined to know what had passed--to know the details. - -He rang, and told the servant that he wished to speak to his father. -M. d'Escorval promptly made his appearance. - -"Well?" cried Maurice. - -M. d'Escorval felt that denial was useless. - -"Lacheneur is deaf to my remonstrances and to my entreaties," he -replied, sadly. "Nothing remains for you but to submit, my son. I -shall not tell you that time will assuage the sorrow that now seems -insupportable--you would not believe me. But I do say to you, that you -are a man, and that you must prove your courage. I say even more: -fight against thoughts of Marie-Anne as a traveller on the verge of a -precipice fights against the thought of vertigo." - -"Have you seen Marie-Anne, father? Have you spoken to her?" - -"I found her even more inflexible than Lacheneur." - -"They reject me, and they receive Chanlouineau, perhaps." - -"Chanlouineau is living there." - -"My God! And Martial de Sairmeuse?" - -"He is their familiar guest. I saw him there." That each of these -responses fell upon Maurice like a thunder-bolt was only too evident. - -But M. d'Escorval had armed himself with the impassable courage of a -surgeon who does not relax his hold on his instruments because the -patient groans and writhes in agony. - -M. d'Escorval wished to extinguish the last ray of hope in the heart -of his son. - -"It is evident that Monsieur Lacheneur has lost his reason!" exclaimed -Maurice. - -The baron shook his head despondently. "I thought so myself, at -first," he murmured. - -"But what does he say in justification of his conduct? He must say -something." - -"Nothing; /he/ refuses any explanation." - -"And you, father, with all your knowledge of human nature, with all -your wide experience, have not been able to fathom his intentions?" - -"I have my suspicions," M. d'Escorval replied; "but only suspicions. -It is possible that Lacheneur, listening to the voice of hatred, is -dreaming of a terrible revenge. Who knows if he does not think of -organizing some conspiracy, of which he is to be the leader? These -suppositions would explain everything. Chanlouineau is his aider and -abettor; and he pretends to be reconciled to the Marquis de Sairmeuse -in order to get information through him----" - -The blood had returned to the pale cheeks of Maurice. - -"Such a conspiracy would not explain Monsieur Lacheneur's obstinate -rejection of my suit." - -"Alas! yes, my poor boy. It is through Marie-Anne that Lacheneur -exerts such an influence over Chanlouineau and the Marquis de -Sairmeuse. If she became your wife to-day, they would desert him -tomorrow. Then, too, it is precisely because he loves us that he is -determined we shall not be mixed up in an enterprise the success of -which is extremely doubtful. But these are mere conjectures." - -"Then I see that it is necessary to submit, to be resigned; forget, I -cannot," faltered Maurice. - -He said this because he wished to reassure his father; but he thought -exactly the opposite. - -"If Lacheneur is organizing a conspiracy," he said, to himself, "he -must need assistance. Why should I not offer mine? If I aid him in his -preparations, if I share his hopes and his dangers, it will be -impossible for him to refuse me the hand of his daughter. Whatever he -may desire to undertake, I can surely be of greater assistance than -Chanlouineau." - -From that moment Maurice thought only of doing everything possible to -hasten his convalescence. This was so rapid, so extraordinarily rapid, -as to astonish Abbe Midon, who had taken the place of the physician -from Montaignac. - -"I never would have believed that Maurice could have been thus -consoled," said Mme. d'Escorval, delighted to see her son's wonderful -improvement in health and spirits. - -But the baron made no response. He regarded this almost miraculous -recovery with distrust; he was assailed by a vague suspicion of the -truth. - -He questioned his son, but skilfully as he did it, he could draw -nothing from him. - -Maurice had decided to say nothing to his parents. What good would it -do to trouble them? Besides, he feared remonstrance and opposition, -and he was resolved to carry out his plans, even if he was compelled -to leave the paternal roof. - -In the second week of September the abbe declared that Maurice might -resume his ordinary life, and that, as the weather was pleasant, it -would be well for him to spend much of his time in the open air. - -In his delight, Maurice embraced the worthy priest. - -"What happiness!" he exclaimed; "then I can hunt once more!" - -He really cared but little for the chase; but he deemed it expedient -to pretend a great passion for it, since it would furnish him with an -excuse for frequent and protracted absences. - -Never had he felt more happy than on the morning when, with his gun -upon his shoulder, he crossed the Oiselle and started for the abode of -M. Lacheneur. On reaching the little grove on the Reche, he paused for -a moment at a place which commanded a view of the cottage. While he -stood there, he saw Jean Lacheneur and Chanlouineau leave the house, -each laden with a pedler's pack. - -Maurice was therefore sure that M. Lacheneur and Marie-Anne were alone -in the house. - -He hastened to the cottage and entered without stopping to rap. - -Marie-Anne and her father were kneeling on the hearth, upon which a -huge fire was blazing. - -On hearing the door open, they turned; and at the sight of Maurice, -they both sprang up, blushing and confused. - -"What brings you here?" they exclaimed in the same breath. - -Under other circumstances, Maurice d'Escorval would have been dismayed -by such a hostile greeting, but now he scarcely noticed it. - -"You have no business to return here against my wishes, and after what -I have said to you, Monsieur d'Escorval," said Lacheneur, rudely. - -Maurice smiled, he was perfectly cool, and not a detail of the scene -before him had escaped his notice. If he had felt any doubts before, -they were now dissipated. He saw upon the fire a large kettle of -melted lead, and several bullet-moulds stood on the hearth, beside the -andirons. - -"If I venture to present myself at your house, Monsieur," said -Maurice, gravely and impressively, "it is because I know all. I have -discovered your revengeful project. You are looking for men to aid -you, are you not? Very well! look me in the face, in the eyes, and -tell me if I am not one of those whom a leader is glad to enroll among -his followers." - -M. Lacheneur was terribly agitated. - -"I do not know what you mean," he faltered, forgetting his feigned -anger; "I have no projects." - -"Would you assert this upon oath? Why are you casting these bullets? -You are clumsy conspirators. You should lock your door; someone else -might have entered." - -And adding example to precept, he turned and pushed the bolt. - -"This is only an imprudence," he continued; "but to reject a soldier -who comes to you voluntarily would be a fault for which your associate -would have a right to call you to account. I have no desire, -understand me, to force myself into your confidence. No, I give myself -to you blindly, body and soul. Whatever your cause may be, I declare -it mine; what you wish, I wish; I adopt your plans; your enemies are -my enemies; command, I will obey. I ask only one favor, that of -fighting, of triumphing, or of dying by your side." - -"Oh! refuse, father!" exclaimed Marie-Anne; "refuse. To accept this -offer would be a crime!" - -"A crime! And why, if you please?" - -"Because our cause is not your cause; because its success is doubtful; -because dangers surround us on every side." - -A scornful exclamation from Maurice interrupted her. - -"And it is you who think to dissuade me by pointing out the dangers -that threaten you, the dangers that you are braving----" - -"Maurice!" - -"So if imminent peril menaced me, instead of coming to my aid you -would desert me? You would hide yourself, saying, 'Let him perish, so -that I be saved!' Speak! Would you do this?" - -She averted her face and made no reply. She could not force herself to -utter an untruth; and she was unwilling to answer: "I would act as you -are acting." She waited for her father's decision. - -"If I should comply with your request, Maurice," said M. Lacheneur, -"in less than three days you would curse me, and ruin us by some -outburst of anger. You love Marie-Anne. Could you see, unmoved, the -frightful position in which she is placed? Remember, she must not -discourage the addresses either of Chanlouineau or of the Marquis de -Sairmeuse. You regard me--oh, I know as well as you do that it is a -shameful and odious role that I impose upon her--that she is compelled -to play a part in which she will lose a young girl's most precious -possession--her reputation." - -Maurice did not wince. "So be it," he said, calmly. "Marie-Anne's fate -will be that of all women who have devoted themselves to the political -advancement of the man whom they love, be he father, brother, or -lover. She will be slandered, insulted, calumniated. What does it -matter? She may continue her task. I consent to it, for I shall never -doubt her, and I shall know how to hold my peace. If we succeed, she -shall be my wife; if we fail----" - -The gesture which concluded the sentence said more strongly than any -protestations, that he was ready, resigned to anything. - -M. Lacheneur was greatly moved. - -"At least give me time for reflection," said he. - -"There is no necessity for further reflection, Monsieur." - -"But you are only a child, Maurice; and your father is my friend." - -"What of that?" - -"Rash boy! do you not understand that by compromising yourself you -also compromise Baron d'Escorval? You think you are risking only your -own head; you are endangering your father's life----" - -But Maurice violently interrupted him. - -"There has been too much parleying already!" he exclaimed; "there have -been too many remonstrances. Answer me in a word! Only understand -this: if you reject me, I will return to my father's house, and with -this gun which I hold in my hand I will blow out my brains." - -This was no idle threat. It was evident that what he said, that would -he do. His listeners were so convinced of this, that Marie-Anne turned -to her father with clasped hands and a look of entreaty. - -"You are one of us, then," said M. Lacheneur, sternly; "but do not -forget that you forced me to consent by threats; and whatever may -happen to you or yours, remember that you would have it so." - -But these gloomy words produced no impression upon Maurice; he was -wild with joy. - -"Now," continued M. Lacheneur, "I must tell you my hopes, and acquaint -you with the cause for which I am laboring----" - -"What does that matter to me?" Maurice exclaimed, gayly; and, -springing toward Marie-Anne, he seized her hand and raised it to his -lips, crying, with the joyous laugh of youth: - -"My cause--here it is!" - -Lacheneur turned away. Perhaps he recollected that a sacrifice of his -pride was all that was necessary to assure the happiness of these poor -children. - -But if a feeling of remorse entered his mind, he drove it away, and -with increased sternness, he said: - -"Still, Monsieur d'Escorval, it is necessary for you to understand our -agreement." - -"Make known your conditions, sir." - -"First, your visits here--after certain rumors that I have put in -circulation--would arouse suspicion. You must come here only at night, -and then only at hours that have been agreed upon in advance--never -when you are not expected." - -The attitude of Maurice expressed his entire consent. - -"Moreover, you must find some way to cross the river without having -recourse to the ferryman, who is a dangerous fellow." - -"We have an old skiff. I will persuade my father to have it repaired." - -"Very well. Will you also promise me to avoid the Marquis de -Sairmeuse?" - -"I will." - -"Wait a moment; we must be prepared for any emergency. It may be that, -in spite of our precautions, you will meet him here. Monsieur de -Sairmeuse is arrogance itself; and he hates you. You detest him, and -you are very hasty. Swear to me that if he provokes you, you will -ignore his insults." - -"But I should be considered a coward, Monsieur!" - -"Probably. Will you swear?" - -Maurice hesitated, but an imploring look from Marie-Anne decided him. - -"I swear!" he said, gravely. - -"As far as Chanlouineau is concerned, it would be better not to let -him know of our agreement--but I will take care of this matter." - -M. Lacheneur paused and reflected for a moment, as if striving to -discover if he had forgotten anything. - -"Nothing remains, Maurice," he resumed, "but to give you a last and -very important piece of advice. Do you know my son?" - -"Certainly; we were formerly the best of comrades during our -vacations." - -"Very well. When you know my secret--for I shall confide it to you -without reserve--beware of Jean." - -"What, sir?" - -"Beware of Jean. I repeat it." - -And he blushed deeply, as he added: - -"Ah! it is a painful avowal for a father; but I have no confidence in -my own son. He knows no more in regard to my plans than I told him on -the day of his arrival. I deceive him, because I fear he might betray -us. Perhaps it would be wise to send him away; but in that case, what -would people say? Most assuredly they would say that I was very -avaricious of my own blood, while I was very ready to risk the lives -of others. Still I may be mistaken; I may misjudge him." - -He sighed, and added: - -"Beware!" - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -So it was really Maurice d'Escorval whom the Marquis de Sairmeuse had -seen leaving Lacheneur's house. - -Martial was not certain of it, but the very possibility made his heart -swell with anger. - -"What part am I playing here, then?" he exclaimed, indignantly. - -He had been so completely blinded by passion that he would not have -been likely to discover the real condition of affairs even if no pains -had been taken to deceive him. - -Lacheneur's formal courtesy and politeness he regarded as sincere. He -believed in the studied respect shown him by Jean; and the almost -servile obsequiousness of Chanlouineau did not surprise him in the -least. - -And since Marie-Anne welcomed him politely, he concluded that his suit -was progressing favorably. - -Having himself forgotten, he supposed that everyone else had ceased to -remember. - -Moreover, he was of the opinion that he had acted with great -generosity, and that he was entitled to the deep gratitude of the -Lacheneur family; for M. Lacheneur had received the legacy bequeathed -him by Mlle. Armande, and an indemnity, besides all the furniture he -had chosen to take from the chateau, a total of at least sixty -thousand francs. - -"He must be hard to please, if he is not satisfied!" growled the duke, -enraged at such prodigality, though it did not cost him a penny. - -Martial had supposed himself the only visitor at the cottage on the -Reche; and when he discovered that such was not the case, he became -furious. - -"Am I, then, the dupe of a shameless girl?" he thought. - -He was so incensed, that for more than a week he did not go to -Lacheneur's house. - -His father concluded that his ill-humor and gloom was caused by some -misunderstanding with Marie-Anne; and he took advantage of this -opportunity to gain his son's consent to an alliance with Blanche de -Courtornieu. - -A victim to the most cruel doubts and fears, Martial, goaded to the -last extremity, exclaimed: - -"Very well! I will marry Mademoiselle Blanche." - -The duke did not allow such a good resolution to grow cold. - -In less than forty-eight hours the engagement was made public; the -marriage contract was drawn up, and it was announced that the wedding -would take place early in the spring. - -A grand banquet was given at Sairmeuse in honor of the betrothal--a -banquet all the more brilliant since there were other victories to be -celebrated. - -The Duc de Sairmeuse had just received, with his brevet of lieutenant- -general, a commission placing him in command of the military -department of Montaignac. - -The Marquis de Courtornieu had also received an appointment, making -him provost-marshal of the same district. - -Blanche had triumphed. After this public betrothal Martial was bound -to her. - -For a fortnight, indeed, he scarcely left her side. In her society -there was a charm whose sweetness almost made him forget his love for -Marie-Anne. - -But unfortunately the haughty heiress could not resist the temptation -to make a slighting allusion to Marie-Anne, and to the lowliness of -the marquis's former tastes. She found an opportunity to say that she -furnished Marie-Anne with work to aid her in earning a living. - -Martial forced himself to smile; but the indignity which Marie-Anne -had received aroused his sympathy and indignation. - -And the next day he went to Lacheneur's house. - -In the warmth of the greeting that awaited him there, all his anger -vanished, all his suspicions evaporated. Marie-Anne's eyes beamed with -joy on seeing him again; he noticed it. - -"Oh! I shall win her yet!" he thought. - -All the household were really delighted at his return; the son of the -commander of the military forces at Montaignac, and the prospective -son-in-law of the provost-marshal, Martial was a most valuable -instrument. - -"Through him, we shall have an eye and an ear in the enemy's camp," -said Lacheneur. "The Marquis de Sairmeuse will be our spy." - -He was, for he soon resumed his daily visits to the cottage. It was -now December, and the roads were terrible; but neither rain, snow, nor -mud could keep Martial from the cottage. - -He made his appearance generally as early as ten o'clock, seated -himself upon a stool in the shadow of a tall fireplace, and he and -Marie-Anne talked by the hour. - -She seemed greatly interested in matters at Montaignac, and he told -her all that he knew in regard to affairs there. - -Sometimes they were alone. - -Lacheneur, Chanlouineau, and Jean were tramping about the country with -their merchandise. Business was prospering so well that M. Lacheneur -had purchased a horse in order to extend his journeys. - -But Martial's conversation was generally interrupted by visitors. It -was really surprising to see how many peasants came to the house to -speak to M. Lacheneur. There was an interminable procession of them. -And to each of these peasants Marie-Anne had something to say in -private. Then she offered each man refreshments--the house seemed -almost like a common drinking-saloon. - -But what can daunt the courage of a lover? Martial endured all this -without a murmur. He laughed and jested with the comers and goers; he -shook hands with them; sometimes he even drank with them. - -He gave many other proofs of moral courage. He offered to assist M. -Lacheneur in making up his accounts; and once--it happened about the -middle of February--seeing Chanlouineau worrying over the composition -of a letter, he actually offered to act as his amanuensis. - -"The d----d letter is not for me, but for an uncle of mine who is -about to marry off his daughter," said Chanlouineau. - -Martial took a seat at the table, and, at Chanlouineau's dictation, -but not without many erasures, indited the following epistle: - - - "My dear friend--We are at last agreed, and the marriage has been - decided upon. We are now busy with preparations for the wedding, - which will take place on ----. We invite you to give us the - pleasure of your company. We count upon you, and be assured that - the more friends you bring with you the better we shall be - pleased." - - -Had Martial seen the smile upon Chanlouineau's lips when he requested -him to leave the date for the wedding a blank, he would certainly have -suspected that he had been caught in a snare. But he was in love. - -"Ah! Marquis," remarked his father one day, "Chupin tells me you are -always at Lacheneur's. When will you recover from your /penchant/ for -that little girl?" - -Martial did not reply. He felt that he was at that "little girl's" -mercy. Each glance of hers made his heart throb wildly. By her side he -was a willing captive. If she had asked him to make her his wife he -would not have said no. - -But Marie-Anne had not this ambition. All her thoughts, all her wishes -were for her father's success. - -Maurice and Marie-Anne had become M. Lacheneur's most intrepid -auxiliaries. They were looking forward to such a magnificent reward. - -Such feverish activity as Maurice displayed! All day long he hurried -from hamlet to hamlet, and in the evening, as soon as dinner was over, -he made his escape from the drawing-room, sprang into his boat, and -hastened to the Reche. - -M. d'Escorval could not fail to remark the long and frequent absences -of his son. He watched him, and soon became absolutely certain that -Lacheneur had, to use the baron's own expression, seduced him. - -Greatly alarmed, he decided to go and see his former friend, and -fearing another repulse, he begged Abbe Midon to accompany him. - -It was on the 4th of March, at about half-past four o'clock, that M. -d'Escorval and the cure started for the Reche. They were so anxious -and troubled in mind that they scarcely exchanged a dozen words as -they wended their way onward. - -A strange sight met their eyes as they emerged from the grove on the -Reche. - -Night was falling, but it was still light enough for them to -distinguish objects only a short distance from them. - -Before Lacheneur's house stood a group of about a dozen persons, and -M. Lacheneur was speaking and gesticulating excitedly. - -What was he saying? Neither the baron nor the priest could distinguish -his words, but when he ceased, the most vociferous acclamations rent -the air. - -Suddenly a match glowed between his fingers; he set fire to a bundle -of straw and tossed it upon the thatched roof of his cottage, crying -out in a terrible voice: - -"The die is cast! This will prove to you that I shall not draw back!" - -Five minutes later the house was in flames. - -In the distance the baron and his companion saw the windows of the -citadel at Montaignac illuminated by a red glare, and upon every hill- -side glowed the light of other incendiary fires. - -The country was responding to Lacheneur's signal. - - - -CHAPTER XX - -Ah! ambition is a fine thing! - -The Duc de Sairmeuse and the Marquis de Courtornieu were past middle -age; their lives had been marked by many storms and vicissitudes; they -were the possessors of millions, and the owners of the most sumptuous -residences in the province. Under these circumstances one might have -supposed that they would desire to end their days in peace and -quietness. - -It would have been easy for them to create a life of happiness by -doing good to those around them, and by preparing for their last hours -a chorus of benedictions and of regrets. - -But no. They longed to have a hand in managing the ship of state; they -were not content to be simply passengers. - -And the duke, appointed to the command of the military forces, and the -marquis, made presiding judge of the court at Montaignac, were both -obliged to leave their beautiful homes and take up their abode in -rather dingy quarters in town. - -They did not murmur at the change; their vanity was satisfied. - -Louis XVIII. was on the throne; their prejudices were triumphant; they -were happy. - -It is true that dissatisfaction was rife on every side, but had they -not hundreds and thousands of allies at hand to suppress it? - -And when wise and thoughtful persons spoke of "discontent," the duke -and his associates regarded them as visionaries. - -On the 4th of March, 1816, the duke was just sitting down to dinner -when a loud noise was heard in the vestibule. - -He rose--but at that very instant the door was flung open and a man -entered, panting and breathless. - -This man was Chupin, the former poacher, whom M. de Sairmeuse had -elevated to the position of head gamekeeper. - -It was evident that something extraordinary had happened. - -"What is it?" inquired the duke. - -"They are coming!" cried Chupin; "they are already on the way!" - -"Who? who?" - -By way of response, Chupin handed the duke a copy of the letter -written by Martial under Chanlouineau's dictation. - -M. de Sairmeuse read: - - - "My dear friend--We are at last agreed, and the marriage is - decided. We are now busy in preparing for the wedding, which will - take place on the 4th of March." - - -The date was no longer blank; but still the duke did not comprehend. - -"Well, what of it?" he demanded. - -Chupin tore his hair. - -"They are on the way," he repeated. "I speak of the peasants--they -intend to take possession of Montaignac, dethrone Louis XVIII., bring -back the Emperor, or at least the son of the Emperor--miserable -wretches! they have deceived me. I suspected this outbreak, but I did -not think it was so near at hand." - -This terrible blow, so entirely unexpected, stupefied the duke for a -moment. - -"How many are there?" he demanded. - -"Ah! how do I know, Monsieur? Two thousand, perhaps--perhaps ten -thousand." - -"All the towns-people are with us." - -"No, Monsieur, no. The rebels have accomplices here. All the retired -officers stand ready to assist them." - -"Who are the leaders of the movement?" - -"Lacheneur, Abbe Midon, Chanlouineau, Baron d'Escorval----" - -"Enough!" cried the duke. - -Now that danger was certain, his coolness returned; and his herculean -form, a trifle bowed by the weight of years, rose to its full height. - -He gave the bell-rope a violent pull; a valet appeared. - -"My uniform," commanded M. de Sairmeuse; "my pistols! Quick!" - -The servant was about to obey, when the duke exclaimed: - -"Wait! Let someone take a horse, and go and tell my son to come here -without a moment's delay. Take one of the swiftest horses. The -messenger ought to go to Sairmeuse and return in two hours." - -Chupin endeavored to attract the duke's attention by pulling the skirt -of his coat. M. de Sairmeuse turned: - -"What is it?" - -The old poacher put his finger on his lip, recommending silence, but -as soon as the valet had left the room, he said: - -"It is useless to send for the marquis." - -"And why, you fool?" - -"Because, Monsieur, because--excuse me--I----" - -"Zounds! will you speak, or will you not?" - -Chupin regretted that he had gone so far. - -"Because the marquis----" - -"Well?" - -"He is engaged in it." - -The duke overturned the table with a terrible blow of his clinched -fist. - -"You lie, wretch!" he thundered, with the most horrible oaths. - -He was so formidable in his anger that the old poacher sprang to the -door and turned the knob, ready to take flight. - -"May I lose my head if I do not speak the truth," he insisted. "Ah! -Lacheneur's daughter is a regular sorceress. All the gallants of the -neighborhood are in the ranks; Chanlouineau, young d'Escorval, your -son----" - -M. de Sairmeuse was pouring forth a torrent of curses upon Marie-Anne -when his valet re-entered the room. - -He suddenly checked himself, put on his uniform, and ordering Chupin -to follow him, hastened from the house. - -He was still hoping that Chupin had exaggerated the danger; but when -he reached the Place d'Arms, which commanded an extended view of the -surrounding country, his illusions were put to flight. - -Signal-lights gleamed upon every side. Montaignac seemed surrounded by -a circle of flame. - -"These are the signals," murmured Chupin. "The rebels will be here -before two o'clock in the morning." - -The duke made no response, but hastened to consult M. de Courtornieu. - -He was striding toward his friend's house when, on hastily turning a -corner, he saw two men talking in a doorway, and on seeing the -glittering of the duke's epaulets, both of them took flight. - -The duke instinctively started in pursuit, overtook one man, and -seizing him by the collar, he asked, sternly: - -"Who are you? What is your name?" - -The man was silent, and his captor shook him so roughly that two -pistols, which had been hidden under his long coat, fell to the -ground. - -"Ah, brigand!" exclaimed M. de Sairmeuse, "so you are one of the -conspirators against the King!" - -Then, without another word, he dragged the man to the citadel, gave -him in charge of the astonished soldiers, and again started for M. de -Courtornieu's house. - -He expected the marquis would be terrified; not in the least; he -seemed delighted. - -"At last there comes an opportunity for us to display our devotion and -our zeal--and without danger! We have good walls, strong gates, and -three thousand soldiers at our command. These peasants are fools! But -be grateful for their folly, my dear duke, and run and order out the -Montaignac chasseurs----" - -But suddenly a cloud overspread his face; he knit his brows, and -added: - -"The devil! I am expecting Blanche this evening. She was to leave -Courtornieu after dinner. Heaven grant that she may meet with no -misfortune on the way!" - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -The Duc de Sairmeuse and the Marquis de Courtornieu had more time -before them than they supposed. - -The rebels were advancing, but not so rapidly as Chupin had said. - -Two circumstances, which it was impossible to foresee, disarranged -Lacheneur's plans. - -Standing beside his burning house, Lacheneur counted the signal fires -that blazed out in answer to his own. - -Their number corresponded to his expectations; he uttered a cry of -joy. - -"All our friends keep their word!" he exclaimed. "They are ready; they -are even now on their way to the rendezvous. Let us start at once, for -we must be there first!" - -They brought him his horse, and his foot was already in the stirrup, -when two men sprang from the neighboring grove and darted toward him. -One of them seized the horse by the bridle. - -"Abbe Midon!" exclaimed Lacheneur, in profound astonishment; "Monsieur -d'Escorval!" - -And foreseeing, perhaps, what was to come, he added, in a tone of -concentrated fury: - -"What do you two men want with me?" - -"We wish to prevent the accomplishment of an act of madness!" -exclaimed M. d'Escorval. "Hatred has crazed you, Lacheneur!" - -"You know nothing of my projects!" - -"Do you think that I do not suspect them? You hope to capture -Montaignac-----" - -"What does that matter to you?" interrupted Lacheneur, violently. - -But M. d'Escorval would not be silenced. - -He seized the arm of his former friend, and in a voice loud enough to -be heard distinctly by everyone present, he continued: - -"Foolish man! You have forgotten that Montaignac is a fortified city, -protected by deep moats and high walls! You have forgotten that behind -these fortifications is a garrison commanded by a man whose energy and -valor are beyond all question--the Duc de Sairmeuse." - -Lacheneur struggled to free himself from his friend's grasp. - -"Everything has been arranged," he replied, "and they are expecting us -at Montaignac. You would be as sure of this as I am myself, if you had -seen the light gleaming on the windows of the citadel. And look, you -can see it yet. This light tells me that two or three hundred retired -officers will come to open the gates of the city for us as soon as we -make our appearance." - -"And after that! If you take Montaignac, what will you do then? Do you -suppose that the English will give you back your Emperor? Is not -Napoleon II. the prisoner of the Austrians? Have you forgotten that -the allied sovereigns have left one hundred and fifty thousand -soldiers within a day's march of Paris?" - -Sullen murmurs were heard among Lacheneur's followers. - -"But all this is nothing," continued the baron. "The chief danger lies -in the fact that there are as many traitors as dupes in an undertaking -of this sort." - -"Whom do you call dupes, Monsieur?" - -"All those who take their illusions for realities, as you have done; -all those who, because they desire anything very much, really believe -that it will come to pass. Do you really suppose that neither the Duc -de Sairmeuse nor the Marquis de Courtornieu has been warned of it?" - -Lacheneur shrugged his shoulders. - -"Who could have warned them?" - -But his tranquillity was feigned; the look which he cast upon Jean -proved it. - -And it was in the coldest possible tone that he added: - -"It is probable that at this very hour the duke and the marquis are in -the power of our friends." - -The cure now attempted to join his efforts to those of the baron. - -"You will not go, Lacheneur," he said. "You will not remain deaf to -the voice of reason. You are an honest man; think of the frightful -responsibility you assume! What! upon these frail hopes, you dare to -peril the lives of hundreds of brave men? I tell you that you will not -succeed; you will be betrayed; I am sure you will be betrayed!" - -An expression of horror contracted Lacheneur's features. It was -evident to all that he was deeply moved. - -It is impossible to say what might have happened had it not been for -the intervention of Chanlouineau. - -This sturdy peasant came forward, brandishing his gun. - -"We are wasting too much time in foolish prattling," he exclaimed with -a fierce oath. - -Lacheneur started as if he had been struck by a whip. He rudely freed -himself and leaped into the saddle. - -"Forward!" he ordered. - -But the baron and the priest did not yet despair; they sprang to the -horse's head. - -"Lacheneur," cried the priest, "beware! The blood you are about to -spill will fall upon your head, and upon the heads of your children!" - -Appalled by these prophetic words, the little band paused. - -Then someone issued from the ranks, clad in the costume of a peasant. - -"Marie-Anne!" exclaimed the abbe and the baron in the same breath. - -"Yes, I," responded the young girl, removing the large hat which had -partially concealed her face; "I wish to share the dangers of those -who are dear to me--share in their victory or their defeat. Your -counsel comes too late, gentlemen. Do you see those lights on the -horizon? They tell us that the people of these communes are repairing -to the cross-roads at the Croix d'Arcy, the general rendezvous. Before -two o'clock fifteen hundred men will be gathered there awaiting my -father's commands. Would you have him leave these men, whom he has -called from their peaceful firesides, without a leader? Impossible!" - -She evidently shared the madness of her lover and father, even if she -did not share all their hopes. - -"No, there must be no more hesitation, no more parleying," she -continued. "Prudence now would be the height of folly. There is no -more danger in a retreat than in an advance. Do not try to detain my -father, gentlemen; each moment of delay may, perhaps, cost a man's -life. And now, my friends, forward!" - -A loud cheer answered her, and the little band descended the hill. - -But M. d'Escorval could not allow his own son, whom he saw in the -ranks, to depart thus. - -"Maurice!" he cried. - -The young man hesitated, but at last approached. - -"You will not follow these madmen, Maurice?" said the baron. - -"I must follow them, father." - -"I forbid it." - -"Alas! father, I cannot obey you. I have promised--I have sworn. I am -second in command." - -His voice was sad, but it was determined. - -"My son!" exclaimed M. d'Escorval; "unfortunate child!--it is to -certain death that you are marching--to certain death." - -"All the more reason that I should not break my word, father." - -"And your mother, Maurice, the mother whom you forget!" - -A tear glistened in the young man's eye. - -"My mother," he replied, "would rather weep for her dead son than keep -him near her dishonored, and branded with the names of coward and -traitor. Farewell! my father." - -M. d'Escorval appreciated the nobility of soul that Maurice displayed -in his conduct. He extended his arms, and pressed his beloved son -convulsively to his heart, feeling that it might be for the last time. - -"Farewell!" he faltered, "farewell!" - -Maurice soon rejoined his comrades, whose acclamations were growing -fainter and fainter in the distance; but the baron stood motionless, -overwhelmed with sorrow. - -Suddenly he started from his revery. - -"A single hope remains, Abbe!" he cried. - -"Alas!" murmured the priest. - -"Oh--I am not mistaken. Marie-Anne just told us the place of -rendezvous. By running to Escorval and harnessing the cabriolet, we -might be able to reach the Croix d'Arcy before this party arrive -there. Your voice, which touched Lacheneur, will touch the heart of -his accomplices. We will persuade these poor, misguided men to return -to their homes. Come, Abbe; come quickly!" - -And they departed on the run. - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -The clock in the tower of Sairmeuse was striking the hour of eight -when Lacheneur and his little band of followers left the Reche. - -An hour later, at the Chateau de Courtornieu, Mlle. Blanche, after -finishing her dinner, ordered the carriage to convey her to -Montaignac. Since her father had taken up his abode in town they met -only on Sunday; on that day either Blanche went to Montaignac, or the -marquis paid a visit to the chateau. - -Hence this proposed journey was a deviation from the regular order of -things. It was explained, however, by grave circumstances. - -It was six days since Martial had presented himself at Courtornieu; -and Blanche was half crazed with grief and rage. - -What Aunt Medea was forced to endure during this interval, only poor -dependents in rich families can understand. - -For the first three days Mlle. Blanche succeeded in preserving a -semblance of self-control; on the fourth she could endure it no -longer, and in spite of the breach of "/les convenances/" which it -involved, she sent a messenger to Sairmeuse to inquire for Martial. -Was he ill--had he gone away? - -The messenger was informed that the marquis was perfectly well, but, -as he spent the entire day, from early morn to dewy eve, in hunting, -he went to bed every evening as soon as supper was over. - -What a horrible insult! Still, she was certain that Martial, on -hearing what she had done, would hasten to her to make his excuses. -Vain hope! He did not come; he did not even condescend to give one -sign of life. - -"Ah! doubtless he is with her," she said to Aunt Medea. "He is on his -knees before that miserable Marie-Anne--his mistress." - -For she had finished by believing--as is not unfrequently the case-- -the very calumnies which she herself had invented. - -In this extremity she decided to make her father her confidant; and -she wrote him a note announcing her coming. - -She wished her father to compel Lacheneur to leave the country. This -would be an easy matter for him, since he was armed with discretionary -authority at an epoch when lukewarm devotion afforded an abundant -excuse for sending a man into exile. - -Fully decided upon this plan, Blanche became calmer on leaving the -chateau; and her hopes overflowed in incoherent phrases, to which poor -Aunt Medea listened with her accustomed resignation. - -"At last I shall be rid of this shameless creature!" she exclaimed. -"We will see if he has the audacity to follow her! Will he follow her? -Oh, no; he dare not!" - -When the carriage passed through the village of Sairmeuse, Mlle. -Blanche noticed an unwonted animation. - -There were lights in every house, the saloons seemed full of drinkers, -and groups of people were standing upon the public square and upon the -doorsteps. - -But what did this matter to Mlle. de Courtornieu! It was not until -they were a mile or so from Sairmeuse that she was startled from her -revery. - -"Listen, Aunt Medea," she said, suddenly. "Do you hear anything?" - -The poor dependent listened. Both occupants of the carriage heard -shouts that became more and more distinct with each revolution of the -wheels. - -"Let us find out the meaning of this," said Mlle. Blanche. - -And lowering one of the carriage-windows, she asked the coachman the -cause of the disturbance. - -"I see a great crowd of peasants on the hill; they have torches -and----" - -"Blessed Jesus!" interrupted Aunt Medea, in alarm. - -"It must be a wedding," added the coachman, whipping up his horses. - -It was not a wedding, but Lacheneur's little band, which had been -augmented to the number of about five hundred. Lacheneur should have -been at the Croix d'Arcy two hours before. But he had shared the fate -of most popular chiefs. When an impetus had been given to the movement -he was no longer master of it. - -Baron d'Escorval had made him lose twenty minutes; he was delayed four -times as long in Sairmeuse. When he reached that village, a little -behind time, he found the peasants scattered through the wine-shops, -drinking to the success of the enterprise. - -To tear them from their merry-making was a long and difficult task. - -And to crown all, when they were finally induced to resume their line -of march, it was impossible to persuade them to extinguish the pine -knots which they had lighted to serve as torches. - -Prayers and threats were alike unavailing. "They wished to see their -way," they said. - -Poor deluded creatures! They had not the slightest conception of the -difficulties and the perils of the enterprise they had undertaken. - -They were going to capture a fortified city, defended by a numerous -garrison, as if they were bound on a pleasure jaunt. - -Gay, thoughtless, and animated by the imperturbable confidence of a -child, they were marching along, arm in arm, singing patriotic songs. - -On horseback, in the centre of the band, M. Lacheneur felt his hair -turning white with anguish. - -Would not this delay ruin everything? What would the others, who were -waiting at the Croix d'Arcy, think! What were they doing at this very -moment? - -"Onward! onward!" he repeated. - -Maurice, Chanlouineau, Jean, Marie-Anne, and about twenty of the old -soldiers of the Empire, understood and shared Lacheneur's despair. -They knew the terrible danger they were incurring, and they, too, -repeated: - -"Faster! Let us march faster!" - -Vain exhortation! It pleased these people to go slowly. - -Suddenly the entire band stopped. Some of the peasants, chancing to -look back, had seen the lamps of Mlle. de Courtornieu's carriage -gleaming in the darkness. - -It came rapidly onward, and soon overtook them. The peasants -recognized the coachman's livery, and greeted the vehicle with shouts -of derision. - -M. de Courtornieu, by his avariciousness, had made even more enemies -than the Duc de Sairmeuse; and all the peasants who thought they had -more or less reason to complain of his extortions were delighted at -this opportunity to frighten him. - -For, that they were not thinking of vengeance, is conclusively proved -by the sequel. - -Hence great was their disappointment when, on opening the carriage- -door, they saw within the vehicle only Mlle. Blanche and Aunt Medea, -who uttered the most piercing shrieks. - -But Mlle. de Courtornieu was a brave woman. - -"Who are you?" she demanded, haughtily, "and what do you desire?" - -"You will know to-morrow," replied Chanlouineau. "Until then, you are -our prisoner." - -"I see that you do not know who I am, boy." - -"Excuse me. I do know who you are, and, for this very reason, I -request you to descend from your carriage. She must leave the -carriage, must she not, Monsieur d'Escorval?" - -"Very well! I declare that I will not leave my carriage; tear me from -it if you dare!" - -They would certainly have dared had it not been for Marie-Anne, who -checked some peasants as they were springing toward the carriage. - -"Let Mademoiselle de Courtornieu pass without hinderance," said she. - -But this permission might produce such serious consequences that -Chanlouineau found courage to resist. - -"That cannot be, Marie-Anne," said he; "she will warn her father. We -must keep her as a hostage; her life may save the life of our -friends." - -Mlle. Blanche had not recognized her former friend, any more than she -had suspected the intentions of this crowd of men. - -But Marie-Anne's name, uttered with that of d'Escorval enlightened her -at once. - -She understood it all, and trembled with rage at the thought that she -was at the mercy of her rival. She resolved to place herself under no -obligation to Marie-Anne Lacheneur. - -"Very well," said she, "we will descend." - -Her former friend checked her. - -"No," said she, "no! This is not the place for a young girl." - -"For an honest young girl, you should say," replied Blanche, with a -sneer. - -Chanlouineau was standing only a few feet from the speaker with his -gun in his hand. If a man had uttered those words he would have been -instantly killed. Marie-Anne did not deign to notice them. - -"Mademoiselle will turn back," she said, calmly; "and as she can reach -Montaignac by the other road, two men will accompany her as far as -Courtornieu." - -She was obeyed. The carriage turned and rolled away, but not so -quickly that Marie-Anne failed to hear Blanche cry: - -"Beware, Marie! I will make you pay dearly for your insulting -patronage!" - -The hours were flying by. This incident had occupied ten minutes more ---ten centuries--and the last trace of order had disappeared. - -M. Lacheneur could have wept with rage. He called Maurice and -Chanlouineau. - -"I place you in command," said he; "do all that you can to hurry these -idiots onward. I will ride as fast as I can to the Croix d'Arcy." - -He started, but he was only a short distance in advance of his -followers when he saw two men running toward him at full speed. One -was clad in the attire of a well-to-do bourgeois; the other wore the -old uniform of captain in the Emperor's guard. - -"What has happened?" Lacheneur cried, in alarm. - -"All is discovered!" - -"Great God!" - -"Major Carini has been arrested." - -"By whom? How?" - -"Ah! there was a fatality about it! Just as we were perfecting our -arrangements to capture the Duc de Sairmeuse, the duke surprised us. -We fled, but the cursed noble pursued us, overtook Carini, seized him -by the collar, and dragged him to the citadel." - -Lacheneur was overwhelmed; the abbe's gloomy prophecy again resounded -in his ears. - -"So I warned my friends, and hastened to warn you," continued the -officer. "The affair is an utter failure!" - -He was only too correct; and Lacheneur knew it even better than he -did. But, blinded by hatred and anger, he would not acknowledge that -the disaster was irreparable. - -"Let Mademoiselle de Counornieu pass without hinderance." - -He affected a calmness which he did not in the least feel. - -"You are easily discouraged, gentlemen," he said, bitterly. "There is, -at least, one more chance." - -"The devil! Then you have resources of which we are ignorant?" - -"Perhaps--that depends. You have just passed the Croix d'Arcy; did you -tell any of those people what you have just told me?" - -"Not a word." - -"How many men are there at the rendezvous?" - -"At least two thousand." - -"And what is their mood?" - -"They are burning to begin the struggle. They are cursing our -slowness, and told me to entreat you to make haste." - -"In that case our cause is not lost," said Lacheneur, with a -threatening gesture. "Wait here until the peasants come up, and say to -them that you were sent to tell them to make haste. Bring them on as -quickly as possible, and have confidence in me; I will be responsible -for the success of the enterprise." - -He said this, then putting spurs to his horse, galloped away. He had -deceived the men. He had no other resources. He did not have the -slightest hope of success. It was an abominable falsehood. But, if -this edifice, which he had erected with such care and labor, was to -totter and fall, he desired to be buried beneath its ruins. They would -be defeated; he was sure of it, but what did that matter? In the -conflict he would seek death and find it. - -Bitter discontent pervaded the crowd at the Croix d'Arcy; and after -the passing of the officers, who had hastened to warn Lacheneur of the -disaster at Montaignac, the murmurs of dissatisfaction were changed to -curses. - -These peasants, nearly two thousand in number, were indignant at not -finding their leader awaiting them at the rendezvous. - -"Where is he?" they asked. "Who knows but he is afraid at the last -moment? Perhaps he is concealing himself while we are risking our -lives and the bread of our children here." - -And already the epithets of mischief-maker and traitor were flying -from lip to lip, and increasing the anger in every breast. - -Some were of the opinion that the crowd should disperse; others wished -to march against Montaignac without Lacheneur, and that, immediately. - -But these deliberations were interrupted by the furious gallop of a -horse. - -A carriage appeared, and stopped in the centre of the open space. - -Two men alighted; Baron d'Escorval and Abbe Midon. - -They were in advance of Lacheneur. They thought they had arrived in -time. - -Alas! here, as on the Reche, all their efforts, all their entreaties, -and all their threats were futile. - -They had come in the hope of arresting the movement; they only -precipitated it. - -"We have gone too far to draw back," exclaimed one of the neighboring -farmers, who was the recognized leader in Lacheneur's absence. "If -death is before us, it is also behind us. To attack and conquer--that -is our only hope of salvation. Forward, then, at once. That is the -only way of disconcerting our enemies. He who hesitates is a coward! -Forward!" - -A shout of approval from two thousand throats replied: - -"Forward!" - -They unfurled the tri-color, that much regretted flag that reminded -them of so much glory, and so many great misfortunes; the drums began -to beat, and with shouts of: "Vive Napoleon II.!" the whole column -took up its line of march. - -Pale, with clothing in disorder, and voices husky with fatigue and -emotion, M. d'Escorval and the abbe followed the rebels, imploring -them to listen to reason. - -They saw the precipice toward which these misguided creatures were -rushing, and they prayed God for an inspiration to check them. - -In fifty minutes the distance separating the Croix d'Arcy from -Montaignac is traversed. - -Soon they see the gate of the citadel, which was to have been opened -for them by their friends within the walls. - -It is eleven o'clock, and yet this gate stands open. - -Does not this circumstance prove that their friends are masters of the -town, and that they are awaiting them in force? - -They advance, so certain of success that those who have guns do not -even take the trouble to load them. - -M. d'Escorval and the abbe alone foresee the catastrophe. - -The leader of the expedition is near them, they entreat him not to -neglect the commonest precautions, they implore him to send some two -men on in advance to reconnoitre; they, themselves, offer to go, on -condition that the peasants will await their return before proceeding -farther. - -But their prayers are unheeded. - -The peasants pass the outer line of fortifications in safety. The head -of the advancing column reaches the drawbridge. - -The enthusiasm amounts to delirium; who will be the first to enter is -the only thought. - -Alas! at that very moment a pistol is fired. - -It is a signal, for instantly, and on every side, resounds a terrible -fusillade. - -Three or four peasants fall, mortally wounded. The rest pause, frozen -with terror, thinking only of escape. - -The indecision is terrible; but the leader encourages his men, there -are a few of Napoleon's old soldiers in the ranks. A struggle begins, -all the more frightful by reason of the darkness! - -But it is not the cry of "Forward!" that suddenly rends the air. - -The voice of a coward sends up the cry of panic: - -"We are betrayed! Let him save himself who can!" - -This is the end of all order. A wild fear seizes the throng; and these -men flee madly, despairingly, scattered as withered leaves are -scattered by the power of the tempest. - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -Chupin's stupefying revelations and the thought that Martial, the heir -of his name and dukedom, should degrade himself so low as to enter -into a conspiracy with vulgar peasants, drove the Duc de Sairmeuse -nearly wild. - -But the Marquis de Courtornieu's coolness restored the duke's /sang- -froid/. - -He ran to the barracks, and in less than half an hour five hundred -foot-soldiers and three hundred of the Montaignac chasseurs were under -arms. - -With these forces at his disposal it would have been easy enough to -suppress this movement without the least bloodshed. It was only -necessary to close the gates of the city. It was not with fowling- -pieces and clubs that these poor peasants could force an entrance into -a fortified town. - -But such moderation did not suit a man of the duke's violent -temperament, a man who was ever longing for struggle and excitement, a -man whose ambition prompted him to display his zeal. - -He had ordered the gate of the citadel to be left open, and had -concealed some of his soldiers behind the parapets of the outer -fortifications. - -He then stationed himself where he could command a view of the -approach to the citadel, and deliberately chose his moment for giving -the signal to fire. - -Still, a strange thing happened. Of four hundred shots, fired into a -dense crowd of fifteen hundred men, only three had hit the mark. - -More humane than their chief, nearly all the soldiers had fired in the -air. - -But the duke had not time to investigate this strange occurrence now. -He leaped into the saddle, and placing himself at the head of about -five hundred men, cavalry and infantry, he started in pursuit of the -fugitives. - -The peasants had the advantage of their pursuers by about twenty -minutes. - -Poor simple creatures! - -They might easily have made their escape. They had only to disperse, -to scatter; but, unfortunately, the thought never once occurred to the -majority of them. A few ran across the fields and gained their homes -in safety; the others, frantic and despairing, overcome by the strange -vertigo that seizes the bravest in moments of panic, fled like a flock -of frightened sheep. - -Fear lent them wings, for did they not hear each moment shots fired at -the laggards? - -But there was one man, who, at each of these detonations, received, as -it were, his death-wound--this man was Lacheneur. - -He had reached the Croix d'Arcy just as the firing at Montaignac -began. He listened and waited. No discharge of musketry replied to the -first fusillade. There might have been butchery, but combat, no. - -Lacheneur understood it all; and he wished that every ball had pierced -his own heart. - -He put spurs to his horse and galloped to the crossroads. The place -was deserted. At the entrance of one of the roads stood the cabriolet -which had brought M. d'Escorval and the abbe. - -At last M. Lacheneur saw the fugitives approaching in the distance. He -dashed forward, to meet them, trying by mingled curses and insults to -stay their flight. - -"Cowards!" he vociferated, "traitors! You flee--and you are ten -against one! Where are you going? To your own homes. Fools! you will -find the gendarmes there only awaiting your coming to conduct you to -the scaffold. Is it not better to die with your weapons in your hands? -Come--right about. Follow me! We may still conquer. Reinforcements are -at hand; two thousand men are following me!" - -He promised them two thousand men; had he promised them ten thousand, -twenty thousand--an army and cannon, it would have made no difference. - -Not until they reached the wide-open space of the cross-roads, where -they had talked so confidently scarcely an hour before, did the most -intelligent of the throng regain their senses, while the others fled -in every direction. - -About a hundred of the bravest and most determined of the conspirators -gathered around M. Lacheneur. In the little crowd was the abbe, gloomy -and despondent. He had been separated from the baron. What had been -his fate? Had he been killed or taken prisoner? Was it possible that -he had made his escape? - -The worthy priest dared not go away. He waited, hoping that his -companion might rejoin him, and deemed himself fortunate in finding -the carriage still there. He was still waiting when the remnant of the -column confided to Maurice and Chanlouineau came up. - -Of the five hundred men that composed it on its departure from -Sairmeuse, only fifteen remained, including the two retired officers. - -Marie-Anne was in the centre of this little party. - -M. Lacheneur and his friends were trying to decide what course it was -best for them to pursue. Should each man go his way? or should they -unite, and by an obstinate resistance, give all their comrades time to -reach their homes? - -The voice of Chanlouineau put an end to all hesitation. - -"I have come to fight," he exclaimed, "and I shall sell my life -dearly." - -"We will make a stand then!" cried the others. - -But Chanlouineau did not follow them to the spot which they had -considered best adapted to the prolonged defence; he called Maurice -and drew him a little aside. - -"You, Monsieur d'Escorval," he said, almost roughly, "are going to -leave here and at once." - -"I--I came here, Chanlouineau, as you did, to do my duty." - -"Your duty, Monsieur, is to serve Marie-Anne. Go at once, and take her -with you." - -"I shall remain," said Maurice, firmly. - -He was going to join his comrades when Chanlouineau stopped him. - -"You have no right to sacrifice your life here," he said, quietly. -"Your life belongs to the woman who has given herself to you." - -"Wretch! how dare you!" - -Chanlouineau sadly shook his head. - -"What is the use of denying it?" said he. - -"It was so great a temptation that only an angel could have resisted -it. It was not your fault, nor was it hers. Lacheneur was a bad -father. There was a day when I wished either to kill myself or to kill -you, I knew not which. Ah! only once again will you be as near death -as you were that day. You were scarcely five paces from the muzzle of -my gun. It was God who stayed my hand by reminding me of her despair. -Now that I am to die, as well as Lacheneur, someone must care for -Marie-Anne. Swear that you will marry her. You may be involved in some -difficulty on account of this affair; but I have here the means of -saving you." - -A sound of firing interrupted him; the soldiers of the Duc de -Sairmeuse were approaching. - -"Good God!" exclaimed Chanlouineau, "and Marie-Anne!" - -They rushed in pursuit of her, and Maurice was the first to discover -her, standing in the centre of the open space clinging to the neck of -her father's horse. He took her in his arms, trying to drag her away. - -"Come!" said he, "come!" - -But she refused. - -"Leave me, leave me!" she entreated. - -"But all is lost!" - -"Yes, I know that all is lost--even honor. Leave me here. I must -remain; I must die, and thus hide my shame. I must, it shall be so!" - -Just then Chanlouineau appeared. - -Had he divined the secret of her resistance? Perhaps; but without -uttering a word, he lifted her in his strong arms as if she had been a -child and bore her to the carriage guarded by Abbe Midon. - -"Get in," he said, addressing the priest, "and quick--take -Mademoiselle Lacheneur. Now, Maurice, in your turn!" - -But already the duke's soldiers were masters of the field. Seeing a -group in the shadow, at a little distance, they rushed to the spot. - -The heroic Chanlouineau seized his gun, and brandishing it like a -club, held the enemy at bay, giving Maurice time to spring into the -carriage, catch the reins and start the horse off at a gallop. - -All the cowardice and all the heroism displayed on that terrible night -will never be really known. - -Two minutes after the departure of Marie-Anne and of Maurice, -Chanlouineau was still battling with the foe. - -A dozen or more soldiers were in front of him. Twenty shots had been -fired, but not a ball had struck him. His enemies always believed him -invulnerable. - -"Surrender!" cried the soldiers, amazed by such valor; "surrender!" - -"Never! never!" - -He was truly formidable; he brought to the support of his marvellous -courage a superhuman strength and agility. No one dared come within -reach of those brawny arms that revolved with the power and velocity -of the sails of a wind-mill. - -Then it was that a soldier, confiding his musket to the care of a -companion, threw himself flat upon his belly, and crawling unobserved -around behind this obscure hero, seized him by the legs. He tottered -like an oak beneath the blow of the axe, struggled furiously, but -taken at such a disadvantage was thrown to the ground, crying, as he -fell: - -"Help! friends, help!" - -But no one responded to this appeal. - -At the other end of the open space those upon whom he called had, -after a desperate struggle, yielded. - -The main body of the duke's infantry was near at hand. - -The rebels heard the drums beating the charge; they could see the -bayonets gleaming in the sunlight. - -Lacheneur, who had remained in the same spot, utterly ignoring the -shot that whistled around him, felt that his few remaining comrades -were about to be exterminated. - -In that supreme moment the whole past was revealed to him as by a -flash of lightning. He read and judged his own heart. Hatred had led -him to crime. He loathed himself for the humiliation which he had -imposed upon his daughter. He cursed himself for the falsehoods by -which he had deceived these brave men, for whose death he would be -accountable. - -Enough blood had flowed; he must save those who remained. - -"Cease firing, my friends," he commanded; "retreat!" - -They obeyed--he could see them scatter in every direction. - -He too could flee; was he not mounted upon a gallant steed which would -bear him beyond the reach of the enemy? - -But he had sworn that he would not survive defeat. Maddened with -remorse, despair, sorrow, and impotent rage, he saw no refuge save in -death. - -He had only to wait for it; it was fast approaching; he preferred to -rush to meet it. Gathering up the reins, he dashed the rowels in his -steed and, alone, charged upon the enemy. - -The shock was rude, the ranks opened, there was a moment of confusion. - -But Lacheneur's horse, its chest cut open by the bayonets, reared, -beat the air with his hoofs, then fell backward, burying his rider -beneath him. - -And the soldiers marched on, not suspecting that beneath the body of -the horse the brave rider was struggling to free himself. - -It was half-past one in the morning--the place was deserted. - -Nothing disturbed the silence save the moans of a few wounded men, who -called upon their comrades for succor. - -But before thinking of the wounded, M. de Sairmeuse must decide upon -the course which would be most likely to redound to his advantage and -to his political glory. - -Now that the insurrection had been suppressed, it was necessary to -exaggerate its magnitude as much as possible, in order that his reward -should be in proportion to the service supposed to have been rendered. - -Some fifteen or twenty rebels had been captured; but that was not a -sufficient number to give the victory the /eclat/ which he desired. He -must find more culprits to drag before the provost-marshal or before a -military commission. - -He, therefore, divided his troops into several detachments, and sent -them in every direction with orders to explore the villages, search -all isolated houses, and arrest all suspected persons. - -His task here having been completed, he again recommended the most -implacable severity, and started on a brisk trot for Montaignac. - -He was delighted; certainly he blessed--as had M. de Courtornieu-- -these honest and artless conspirators; but one fear, which he vainly -tried to dismiss, impaired his satisfaction. - -His son, the Marquis de Sairmeuse, was he, or was he not, implicated -in this conspiracy? - -He could not, he would not, believe it; and yet the recollection of -Chupin's assurance troubled him. - -On the other hand, what could have become of Martial? The servant who -had been sent to warn him--had he met him? Was the marquis returning? -And by which road? Could it be possible that he had fallen into the -hands of the peasants? - -The duke's relief was intense when, on returning home, after a -conference with M. de Courtornieu, he learned that Martial had arrived -about a quarter of an hour before. - -"The marquis went at once to his own room on dismounting from his -horse," added the servant. - -"Very well," replied the duke. "I will seek him there." - -Before the servants he said, "Very well;" but secretly, he exclaimed: -"Abominable impertinence! What! I am on horseback at the head of my -troops, my life imperilled, and my son goes quietly to bed without -even assuring himself of my safety!" - -He reached his son's room, but found the door closed and locked on the -inside. He rapped. - -"Who is there?" demanded Martial. - -"It is I; open the door." - -Martial drew the bolt; M. de Sairmeuse entered, but the sight that met -his gaze made him tremble. - -Upon the table was a basin of blood, and Martial, with chest bared, -was bathing a large wound in his right breast. - -"You have been fighting!" exclaimed the duke, in a husky voice. - -"Yes." - -"Ah! then you were, indeed----" - -"I was where? what?" - -"At the convocation of these miserable peasants who, in their -parricidal folly, have dared to dream of the overthrow of the best of -princes!" - -Martial's face betrayed successively profound surprise, and a more -violent desire to laugh. - -"I think you must be jesting, Monsieur," he replied. - -The young man's words and manner reassured the duke a little, without -entirely dissipating his suspicions. - -"Then, these vile rascals attacked you?" he exclaimed. - -"Not at all. I have been simply obliged to fight a duel." - -"With whom? Name the scoundrel who has dared to insult you!" - -A faint flush tinged Martial's cheek; but it was in his usual careless -tone that he replied: - -"Upon my word, no; I shall not give his name. You would trouble him, -perhaps; and I really owe the fellow a debt of gratitude. It happened -upon the highway; he might have assassinated me without ceremony, but -he offered me open combat. Besides, he was wounded far more severely -than I." - -All M. de Sairmeuse's doubts had returned. - -"And why, instead of summoning a physician, are you attempting to -dress this wound yourself?" - -"Because it is a mere trifle, and because I wish to keep it a secret." - -The duke shook his head. - -"All this is scarcely plausible," he remarked, "especially after the -assurance of your complicity, which I have received." - -"Ah!" said he; "and from whom? From your spy-in-chief, no doubt--that -rascal Chupin. It surprises me to see that you can hesitate for a -moment between the word of your son and the stories of such a wretch." - -"Do not speak ill of Chupin, Marquis; he is a very useful man. Had it -not been for him, we should have been taken unawares. It was through -him that I learned of this vast conspiracy organized by Lacheneur----" - -"What! is it Lacheneur--" - -"Who is at the head of the movement? yes, Marquis. Ah! your usual -discernment has failed you in this instance. What, you have been a -constant visitor at this house, and you have suspected nothing? And -you contemplate a diplomatic career! But this is not all. You know now -for what purpose the money which you so lavishly bestowed upon them -has been employed. They have used it to purchase guns, powder, and -ammunition." - -The duke had become satisfied of the injustice of his suspicions; but -he was now endeavoring to irritate his son. - -It was a fruitless effort. Martial knew very well that he had been -duped, but he did not think of resenting it. - -"If Lacheneur has been captured," he thought; "if he should be -condemned to death and if I should save him, Marie-Anne would refuse -me nothing." - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -Having penetrated the mystery that enveloped his son's frequent -absence, the Baron d'Escorval had concealed his fears and his chagrin -from his wife. - -It was the first time that he had ever had a secret from the faithful -and courageous companion of his existence. - -Without warning her, he went to beg Abbe Midon to follow him to the -Reche, to the house of M. Lacheneur. - -The silence, on his part, explains Mme. d'Escorval's astonishment -when, on the arrival of the dinner-hour, neither her son nor her -husband appeared. - -Maurice was sometimes late; but the baron, like all great workers, was -punctuality itself. What extraordinary thing could have happened? - -Her surprise became uneasiness when she learned that her husband had -departed in company with Abbe Midon. They had harnessed the horse -themselves, and instead of driving through the court-yard as usual, -they had driven through the stable-yard into a lane leading to the -public road. - -What did all this mean? Why these strange precautions? - -Mme. d'Escorval waited, oppressed by vague forebodings. - -The servants shared her anxiety. The baron was so equable in temper, -so kind and just to his inferiors, that his servants adored him, and -would have gone through a fiery furnace for him. - -So, about ten o'clock, they hastened to lead to their mistress a -peasant who was returning from Sairmeuse. - -This man, who was slightly intoxicated, told the strangest and most -incredible stories. - -He said that all the peasantry for ten leagues around were under arms, -and that the Baron d'Escorval was the leader of the revolt. - -He did not doubt the final success of the movement, declaring that -Napoleon II., Marie-Louise, and all the marshals of the Empire were -concealed in Montaignac. - -Alas! it must be confessed that Lacheneur had not hesitated to utter -the grossest falsehoods in his anxiety to gain followers. - -Mme. d'Escorval could not be deceived by these ridiculous stories, but -she could believe, and she did believe that the baron was the prime -mover in this insurrection. - -And this belief, which would have carried consternation to the hearts -of so many women, reassured her. - -She had entire, absolute, and unlimited faith in her husband. She -believed him superior to all other men--infallible, in short. The -moment he said: "This is so!" she believed it implicitly. - -Hence, if her husband had organized a movement that movement was -right. If he had attempted it, it was because he expected to succeed. -Therefore, it was sure to succeed. - -Impatient, however, to know the result, she sent the gardener to -Sairmeuse with orders to obtain information without awakening -suspicion, if possible, and to hasten back as soon as he could learn -anything of a positive nature. - -He returned in about two hours, pale, frightened, and in tears. - -The disaster had already become known, and had been related to him -with the most terrible exaggerations. He had been told that hundreds -of men had been killed, and that a whole army was scouring the -country, massacring defenceless peasants and their families. - -While he was telling his story, Mme. d'Escorval felt that she was -going mad. - -She saw--yes, positively, she saw her son and her husband, dead--or -still worse, mortally wounded upon the public highway--they were lying -with their arms crossed upon their breasts, livid, bloody, their eyes -staring wildly--they were begging for water--a drop of water. - -"I will find them!" she exclaimed, in frenzied accents. "I will go to -the field of battle, I will seek for them among the dead, until I find -them. Light some torches, my friends, and come with me, for you will -aid me, will you not? You loved them; they were so good! You would not -leave their dead bodies unburied! oh! the wretches! the wretches who -have killed them!" - -The servants were hastening to obey when the furious gallop of a horse -and the sound of carriage-wheels were heard upon the drive. - -"Here they are!" exclaimed the gardener; "here they are!" - -Mme. d'Escorval, followed by the servants, rushed to the door just in -time to see a cabriolet enter the court-yard, and the horse, panting, -exhausted, and flecked with foam, miss his footing, and fall. - -Abbe Midon and Maurice had already leaped to the ground and were -lifting out an apparently lifeless body. - -Even Marie-Anne's great energy had not been able to resist so many -successive shocks; the last trial had overwhelmed her. Once in the -carriage, all immediate danger having disappeared, the excitement -which had sustained her fled. She became unconscious, and all the -efforts of Maurice and of the priest had failed to restore her. - -But Mme. d'Escorval did not recognize Mlle. Lacheneur in the masculine -habiliments in which she was clothed. - -She only saw that it was not her husband whom they had brought with -them; and a convulsive shudder shook her from head to foot. - -"Your father, Maurice!" she exclaimed, in a stifled voice; "and your -father!" - -The effect was terrible. Until that moment, Maurice and the cure had -comforted themselves with the hope that M. d'Escorval would reach home -before them. - -Maurice tottered, and almost dropped his precious burden. The abbe -perceived it, and at a sign from him, two servants gently lifted -Marie-Anne, and bore her to the house. - -Then the cure approached Mme. d'Escorval. - -"Monsieur will soon be here, Madame," said he, at hazard; "he fled -first----" - -"Baron d'Escorval could not have fled," she interrupted. "A general -does not desert when face to face with the enemy. If a panic seizes -his soldiers, he rushes to the front, and either leads them back to -combat, or takes his own life." - -"Mother!" faltered Maurice; "mother!" - -"Oh! do not try to deceive me. My husband was the organizer of this -conspiracy--his confederates beaten and dispersed must have proved -themselves cowards. God have mercy upon me; my husband is dead!" - -In spite of the abbe's quickness of perception, he could not -understand such assertions on the part of the baroness; he thought -that sorrow and terror must have destroyed her reason. - -"Ah! Madame," he exclaimed, "the baron had nothing to do with this -movement; far from it----" - -He paused; all this was passing in the court-yard, in the glare of the -torches which had been lighted up by the servants. Anyone in the -public road could hear and see all. He realized the imprudence of -which they were guilty. - -"Come, Madame," said he, leading the baroness toward the house; "and -you, also, Maurice, come!" - -It was with the silent and passive submission of great misery that -Mme. d'Escorval obeyed the cure. - -Her body alone moved in mechanical obedience; her mind and heart were -flying through space to the man who was her all, and whose mind and -heart were even then, doubtless, calling to her from the dread abyss -into which he had fallen. - -But when she had passed the threshold of the drawing-room, she -trembled and dropped the priest's arm, rudely recalled to the present -reality. - -She recognized Marie-Anne in the lifeless form extended upon the sofa. - -"Mademoiselle Lacheneur!" she faltered, "here in this costume--dead!" - -One might indeed believe the poor girl dead, to see her lying there -rigid, cold, and as white as if the last drop of blood had been -drained from her veins. Her beautiful face had the immobility of -marble; her half-opened, colorless lips disclosed teeth convulsively -clinched, and a large dark-blue circle surrounded her closed eyelids. - -Her long black hair, which she had rolled up closely to slip under her -peasant's hat, had become unbound, and flowed down in rich masses over -her shoulders and trailed upon the floor. - -"She is only in a state of syncope; there is no danger," declared the -abbe, after he had examined Marie-Anne. "It will not be long before -she regains consciousness." - -And then, rapidly but clearly, he gave the necessary directions to the -servants, who were astonished at their mistress. - -Mme. d'Escorval looked on with eyes dilated with terror. She seemed to -doubt her own sanity, and incessantly passed her hand across her -forehead, thickly beaded with cold sweat. - -"What a night!" she murmured. "What a night!" - -"I must remind you, Madame," said the priest, sympathizingly, but -firmly, "that reason and duty alike forbid you thus to yield to -despair! Wife, where is your energy? Christian, what has become of -your confidence in a just and beneficial God?" - -"Oh! I have courage, Monsieur," faltered the wretched woman. "I am -brave!" - -The abbe led her to a large arm-chair, where he forced her to seat -herself, and in a gentler tone, he resumed: - -"Besides, why should you despair, Madame? Your son, certainly, is with -you in safety. Your husband has not compromised himself; he has done -nothing which I myself have not done." - -And briefly, but with rare precision, he explained the part which he -and the baron had played during this unfortunate evening. - -But this recital, instead of reassuring the baroness, seemed to -increase her anxiety. - -"I understand you," she interrupted, "and I believe you. But I also -know that all the people in the country round about are convinced that -my husband commanded the insurrectionists. They believe it, and they -will say it." - -"And what of that?" - -"If he has been arrested, as you give me to understand, he will be -summoned before a court-martial. Was he not the friend of the Emperor? -That is a crime, as you very well know. He will be convicted and -sentenced to death." - -"No, Madame, no! Am I not here? I will appear before the tribunal, and -I shall say: 'Here I am! I have seen and I know all.'" - -"But they will arrest you, alas, Monsieur, because you are not a -priest according to the hearts of these cruel men. They will throw you -in prison, and you, will meet him upon the scaffold." - -Maurice had been listening, pale and trembling. - -But on hearing these last words, he sank upon his knees, hiding his -face in his hands: - -"Ah! I have killed my father!" he exclaimed. - -"Unhappy child! what do you say?" - -The priest motioned him to be silent; but he did not see him, and he -pursued: - -"My father was ignorant even of the existence of this conspiracy of -which Monsieur Lacheneur was the guiding spirit; but I knew it--I -wished him to succeed, because on his success depended the happiness -of my life. And then--wretch that I was!--when I wished to attract to -our ranks some timid or wavering accomplice, I used the loved and -respected name of d'Escorval. Ah, I was mad! I was mad!" - -Then, with a despairing gesture, he added: - -"And yet, even now, I have not the courage to curse my folly! Oh, -mother, mother, if you knew----" - -His sobs interrupted him. Just then a faint moan was heard. - -Marie-Anne was regaining consciousness. Already she had partially -risen from the sofa, and sat regarding this terrible scene with an air -of profound wonder, as if she did not understand it in the least. - -Slowly and gently she put back her hair from her face, and opened and -closed her eyes, which seemed dazzled by the light of the candles. - -She endeavored to speak, to ask some question, but Abbe Midon -commanded silence by a gesture. - -Enlightened by the words of Mme. d'Escorval and by the confession of -Maurice, the abbe understood at once the extent of the frightful -danger that menaced the baron and his son. - -How was this danger to be averted? What must be done? - -He had no time for explanation or reflection; with each moment, a -chance of salvation fled. He must decide and act without delay. - -The abbe was a brave man. He darted to the door, and called the -servants who were standing in the hall and on the staircase. - -When they were gathered around him: - -"Listen to me, intently," said he, in that quick and imperious voice -that impresses one with the certainty of approaching peril, "and -remember that your master's life depends, perhaps, upon your -discretion. We can rely upon you, can we not?" - -Every hand was raised as if to call upon God to witness their -fidelity. - -"In less than an hour," continued the priest, "the soldiers sent in -pursuit of the fugitives will be here. Not a word must be uttered in -regard to what has passed this evening. Everyone must be led to -suppose that I went away with the baron and returned alone. Not one of -you must have seen Mademoiselle Lacheneur. We are going to find a -place of concealment for her. Remember, my friends, if there is the -slightest suspicion of her presence here, all is lost. If the soldiers -question you, endeavor to convince them that Monsieur Maurice has not -left the house this evening." - -He paused, trying to think if he had forgotten any precaution that -human prudence could suggest, then added: - -"One word more; to see you standing about at this hour of the night -will awaken suspicion at once. But this is what I desire. We will -plead in justification, the alarm that you feel at the absence of the -baron, and also the indisposition of madame--for madame is going to -retire--she will thus escape interrogation. And you, Maurice, run and -change your clothes; and, above all, wash your hands, and sprinkle -some perfume upon them." - -All present were so impressed with the imminence of the danger, that -they were more than willing to obey the priest's orders. - -Marie-Anne, as soon as she could be moved, was carried to a tiny room -under the roof. Mme. d'Escorval retired to her own apartment, and the -servants went back to the office. - -Maurice and the abbe remained alone in the drawing-room, silent and -appalled by horrible forebodings. - -The unusually calm face of the priest betrayed his terrible anxiety. -He now felt convinced that Baron d'Escorval was a prisoner, and all -his efforts were now directed toward removing any suspicion of -complicity from Maurice. - -"This was," he reflected, "the only way to save the father." - -A violent peal of the bell attached to the gate interrupted his -meditations. - -He heard the footsteps of the gardener as he hastened to open it, -heard the gate turn upon its hinges, then the measured tramp of -soldiers in the court-yard. - -A loud voice commanded: - -"Halt!" - -The priest looked at Maurice and saw that he was as pale as death. - -"Be calm," he entreated; "do not be alarmed. Do not lose your self- -possession--and do not forget my instructions." - -"Let them come," replied Maurice. "I am prepared!" - -The drawing-room door was flung violently open, and a young man, -wearing the uniform of a captain of grenadiers, entered. He was -scarcely twenty-five years of age, tall, fair-haired, with blue eyes -and little waxed mustache. His whole person betokened an excessive -elegance exaggerated to the verge of the ridiculous. His face -ordinarily must have indicated extreme self-complacency; but at the -present moment it wore a really ferocious expression. - -Behind him, in the passage, were a number of armed soldiers. - -He cast a suspicious glance around the room, then, in a harsh voice: - -"Who is the master of this house?" he demanded. - -"The Baron d'Escorval, my father, who is absent," replied Maurice. - -"Where is he?" - -The abbe, who, until now, had remained seated, rose. - -"On hearing of the unfortunate outbreak of this evening," he replied, -"the baron and myself went to these peasants, in the hope of inducing -them to relinquish their foolish undertaking. They would not listen to -us. In the confusion that ensued, I became separated from the baron; I -returned here very anxious, and am now awaiting his return." - -The captain twisted his mustache with a sneering air. - -"Not a bad invention!" said he. "Only I do not believe a word of this -fiction." - -A light gleamed in the eyes of the priest, his lips trembled, but he -held his peace. - -"Who are you?" rudely demanded the officer. - -"I am the cure of Sairmeuse." - -"Honest men ought to be in bed at this hour. And you are racing about -the country after rebellious peasants. Really, I do not know what -prevents me from ordering your arrest." - -That which did prevent him was the priestly robe, all powerful under -the Restoration. With Maurice he was more at ease. - -"How many are there in this family?" - -"Three; my father, my mother--ill at this moment--and myself." - -"And how many servants?" - -"Seven--four men and three women." - -"You have neither received nor concealed anyone this evening?" - -"No one." - -"It will be necessary to prove this," said the captain. And turning -toward the door: - -"Corporal Bavois!" he called. - -This man was one of those old soldiers who had followed the Emperor -over all Europe. Two small, ferocious gray eyes lighted his tanned, -weather-beaten face, and an immense hooked nose surmounted a heavy, -bristling mustache. - -"Bavois," commanded the officer, "you will take half a dozen men and -search this house from top to bottom. You are an old fox that knows a -thing or two. If there is any hiding-place here, you will be sure to -discover it; if anyone is concealed here, you will bring the person to -me. Go, and make haste!" - -The corporal departed on his mission; the captain resumed his -questions. - -"And now," said he, turning to Maurice, "what have you been doing this -evening?" - -The young man hesitated for an instant; then, with well-feigned -indifference, replied: - -"I have not put my head outside the door this evening." - -"Hum! that must be proved. Let me see your hands." - -The soldier's tone was so offensive that Maurice felt the angry blood -mount to his forehead. Fortunately, a warning glance from the abbe -made him restrain his wrath. - -He offered his hands to the inspection of the captain, who examined -them carefully, outside and in, and finally smelled them. - -"Ah! these hands are too white and smell too sweet to have been -dabbling in powder." - -He was evidently surprised that this young man should have had so -little courage as to remain in the shelter of the fireside while his -father was leading the peasants on to battle. - -"Another thing," said he, "you must have weapons here." - -"Yes, hunting rifles." - -"Where are they?" - -"In a small room on the ground-floor." - -"Take me there." - -They conducted him to the room, and on finding that none of the -double-barrelled guns had been used for some days, he seemed -considerably annoyed. - -He appeared furious when the corporal came and told him that he had -searched everywhere, but had found nothing of a suspicious character. - -"Send for the servants," was his next order. - -But all the servants faithfully repeated the lesson which the abbe had -given them. - -The captain saw that he was not likely to discover the mystery, -although he was well satisfied that one existed. - -Swearing that they should pay dearly for it, if they were deceiving -him, he again called Bavois. - -"I must continue my search," said he. "You, with two men, will remain -here, and render a strict account of all that you see and hear. If -Monsieur d'Escorval returns, bring him to me at once; do not allow him -to escape. Keep your eyes open, and good luck to you!" - -He added a few words in a low voice, then left the room as abruptly as -he had entered it. - -The departing footsteps of the soldiers were soon lost in the -stillness of the night, and then the corporal gave vent to his disgust -in a frightful oath. - -"/Hein/!" said he, to his men, "you have heard that cadet. Listen, -watch, arrest, report. So he takes us for spies! Ah! if our old leader -knew to what base uses his old soldiers were degraded!" - -The two men responded by a sullen growl. - -"As for you," pursued the old trooper, addressing Maurice and the -abbe, "I, Bavois, corporal of grenadiers, declare in my name and in -that of my two men, that you are as free as birds, and that we shall -arrest no one. More than that, if we can aid you in any way, we are at -your service. The little fool that commanded us this evening thought -we were fighting. Look at my gun; I have not fired a shot from it; and -my comrades fired only blank cartridges." - -The man might possibly be sincere, but it was scarcely probable. - -"We have nothing to conceal," replied the cautious priest. - -The old corporal gave a knowing wink. - -"Ah! you distrust me! You are wrong; and I am going to prove it. -Because, you see, though it is easy to gull that fool who just left -here, it is not so easy to deceive Corporal Bavois. Very well! it was -scarcely prudent to leave in the court-yard a gun that certainly had -not been charged for firing at swallows." - -The cure and Maurice exchanged a glance of consternation. Maurice now -recollected, for the first time, that when he sprang from the carriage -to lift out Marie-Anne, he propped his loaded gun against the wall. It -had escaped the notice of the servants. - -"Secondly," pursued Bavois, "there is someone concealed in the attic. -I have excellent ears. Thirdly, I arranged it so that no one should -enter the sick lady's room." - -Maurice needed no further proof. He extended his hand to the corporal, -and, in a voice trembling with emotion, he said: - -"You are a brave man!" - -A few moments later, Maurice, the abbe, and Mme. d'Escorval were again -assembled in the drawing-room, deliberating upon the measures which -must be taken, when Marie-Anne appeared. - -She was still frightfully pale; but her step was firm, her manner -quiet and composed. - -"I must leave this house," she said to the baroness. "Had I been -conscious, I would never have accepted hospitality which is likely to -bring dire misfortune on your family. Alas! your acquaintance with me -has cost you too many tears and too much sorrow already. Do you -understand now why I wished you to regard us as strangers? A -presentiment told me that my family would be fatal to yours!" - -"Poor child!" exclaimed Mme. d'Escorval; "where will you go?" - -Marie-Anne lifted her beautiful eyes to the heaven in which she placed -her trust. - -"I do not know, Madame," she replied; "but duty commands me to go. I -must learn what has become of my father and my brother, and share -their fate." - -"What!" exclaimed Maurice; "still this thought of death. You, who no -longer----" - -He paused; a secret which was not his own had almost escaped his lips. -But visited by a sudden inspiration, he threw himself at his mother's -feet. - -"Oh, my mother! my dearest mother, do not allow her to depart. I may -perish in my attempt to save my father. She will be your daughter then ---she whom I have loved so much. You will encircle her with your -tender and protecting love----" - -Marie-Anne remained. - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -The secret which approaching death had wrestled from Marie-Anne in the -fortification at the Croix d'Arcy, Mme. d'Escorval was ignorant of -when she joined her entreaties to those of her son to induce the -unfortunate girl to remain. - -But the fact occasioned Maurice scarcely an uneasiness. - -His faith in his mother was complete, absolute; he was sure that she -would forgive when she learned the truth. - -Loving and chaste wives and mothers are always most indulgent to those -who have been led astray by the voice of passion. - -Such noble women can, with impunity, despise and brave the prejudices -of hypocrites. - -These reflections made Maurice feel more tranquil in regard to Marie- -Anne's future, and he now thought only of his father. - -Day was breaking; he declared that he would assume some disguise and -go to Montaignac at once. - -On hearing these words, Mme. d'Escorval turned and hid her face in the -sofa-cushions to stifle her sobs. - -She was trembling for her husband's life, and now her son must -precipitate himself into danger. Perhaps before the sun sank to rest, -she would have neither husband nor son. - -And yet she did not say "no." She felt that Maurice was only -fulfilling a sacred duty. She would have loved him less had she -supposed him capable of cowardly hesitation. She would have dried her -tears, if necessary, to bid him "go." - -Moreover, what was not preferable to the agony of suspense which they -had been enduring for hours? - -Maurice had reached the door when the abbe stopped him. - -"You must go to Montaignac," said he, "but it would be folly to -disguise yourself. You would certainly be recognized, and the saying: -'He who conceals himself is guilty,' will assuredly be applied to you. -You must go openly, with head erect, and you must even exaggerate the -assurance of innocence. Go straight to the Duc de Sairmeuse and the -Marquis de Courtornieu. I will accompany you; we will go in the -carriage." - -Maurice seemed undecided. - -"Obey these counsels, my son," said Mme. d'Escorval; "the abbe knows -much better than we do what is best." - -"I will obey, mother." - -The cure had not waited for this assent to go and give an order for -harnessing the horses. Mme. d'Escorval left the room to write a few -lines to a lady friend, whose husband exerted considerable influence -in Montaignac. Maurice and Marie-Anne were left alone. - -It was the first moment of freedom and solitude which they had found -since Marie-Anne's confession. - -They stood for a moment, silent and motionless, then Maurice advanced, -and clasping her in his arms, he whispered: - -"Marie-Anne, my darling, my beloved, I did not know that one could -love more fondly than I loved you yesterday; but now-- And you--you -wish for death when another precious life depends upon yours." - -She shook her head sadly. - -"I was terrified," she faltered. "The future of shame that I saw--that -I still--alas! see before me, appalled me. Now I am resigned. I will -uncomplainingly endure the punishment for my horrible fault--I will -submit to the insults and disgrace that await me!" - -"Insults, to you! Ah! woe to who dares! But will you not now be my -wife in the sight of men, as you are in the sight of God? The failure -of your father's scheme sets you free!" - -"No, no, Maurice, I am not free! Ah! it is you who are pitiless! I see -only too well that you curse me, that you curse the day when we met -for the first time! Confess it! Say it!" - -Marie-Anne lifted her streaming eyes to his. - -"Ah! I should lie if I said that. My cowardly heart has not that much -courage! I suffer--I am disgraced and humiliated, but----" - -He could not finish; he drew her to him, and their lips and their -tears met in one long kiss. - -"You love me," exclaimed Maurice, "you love me in spite of all! We -shall succeed. I will save your father, and mine--I will save your -brother!" - -The horses were neighing and stamping in the courtyard. The abbe -cried: "Come, let us start." Mme. d'Escorval entered with a letter, -which she handed to Maurice. - -She clasped in a long and convulsive embrace the son whom she feared -she should never see again; then, summoning all her courage, she -pushed him away, uttering only the single word: - -"Go!" - -He departed; and when the sound of the carriage-wheels had died away -in the distance, Mme. d'Escorval and Marie-Anne fell upon their knees, -imploring the mercy and aid of a just God. - -They could only pray. The cure and Maurice could act. - -Abbe Midon's plan, which he explained to young d'Escorval, as the -horses dashed along, was as simple as the situation was terrible. - -"If, by confessing your own guilt, you could save your father, I -should tell you to deliver yourself up, and to confess the whole -truth. Such would be your duty. But this sacrifice would be not only -useless, but dangerous. Your confession of guilt would only implicate -your father still more. You would be arrested, but they would not -release him, and you would both be tried and convicted. Let us, then, -allow--I will not say justice, for that would be blasphemy--but these -blood-thirsty men, who call themselves judges, to pursue their course, -and attribute all that you have done to your father. When the trial -comes, you will prove his innocence, and produce alibis so -incontestable, that they will be forced to acquit him. And I -understand the people of our country so well, that I am sure not one -of them will reveal our stratagem." - -"And if we should not succeed," asked Maurice, gloomily, "what could I -do then?" - -The question was so terrible that the priest dared not respond to it. -He and Maurice were silent during the remainder of the drive. - -They reached the city at last, and Maurice saw how wise the abbe had -been in preventing him from assuming a disguise. - -Armed with the most absolute power, the Duc de Sairmeuse and the -Marquis de Courtornieu had closed all the gates of Montaignac save -one. - -Through this gate all who desired to leave or enter the city were -obliged to pass, and two officers were stationed there to examine all -comers and goers, to question them, and to take their name and -residence. - -At the name "d'Escorval," the two officers evinced such surprise that -Maurice noticed it at once. - -"Ah! you know what has become of my father!" he exclaimed. - -"The Baron d'Escorval is a prisoner, Monsieur," replied one of the -officers. - -Although Maurice had expected this response, he turned pale. - -"Is he wounded?" he asked, eagerly. - -"He has not a scratch. But enter, sir, and pass on." - -From the anxious looks of these officers one might have supposed that -they feared they should compromise themselves by conversing with the -son of so great a criminal. - -The carriage rolled beneath the gate-way; but it had not traversed two -hundred yards of the Grand Rue before the abbe and Maurice had -remarked several posters and notices affixed to the walls. - -"We must see what this is," they said, in a breath. - -They stopped near one of these notices, before which a reader had -already stationed himself; they descended from the carriage, and read -the following order: - - - "article I.--The inmates of the house in which the elder Lacheneur - shall be found will be handed over to a military commission for - trial. - - "article II.--Whoever shall deliver the body of the elder - Lacheneur, dead or alive, will receive a reward of twenty thousand - francs." - - -This was signed Duc de Sairmeuse. - -"God be praised!" exclaimed Maurice, "Marie-Anne's father has escaped! -He had a good horse, and in two hours----" - -A glance and a nudge of the elbow from the abbe checked him. - -The abbe drew his attention to the man standing near them. This man -was none other than Chupin. - -The old scoundrel had also recognized them, for he took off his hat to -the cure, and with an expression of intense covetousness in his eyes, -he said: "Twenty thousand francs! what a sum! A man could live -comfortably all his life on the interest of it." - -The abbe and Maurice shuddered as they re-entered their carriage. - -"Lacheneur is lost if this man discovers his retreat," murmured the -priest. - -"Fortunately, he must have crossed the frontier before this," replied -Maurice. "A hundred to one he is beyond reach." - -"And if you should be mistaken. What, if wounded and faint from loss -of blood, Lacheneur has had only strength to drag himself to the -nearest house and ask the hospitality of its inmates?" - -"Oh! even in that case he is safe; I know our peasants. There is not -one who is capable of selling the life of a proscribed man." - -The noble enthusiasm of youth drew a sad smile from the priest. - -"You forget the dangers to be incurred by those who shelter him. Many -a man who would not soil his hands with the price of blood might -deliver up a fugitive from fear." - -They were passing through the principal street, and they were struck -with the mournful aspect of the place--the little city which was -ordinarily so bustling and gay--fear and consternation evidently -reigned there. The shops were closed; the shutters of the houses had -not been opened. A lugubrious silence pervaded the town. One might -have supposed that there was general mourning, and that each family -had lost one of its members. - -The manner of the few persons seen upon the thoroughfare was anxious -and singular. They hurried on, casting suspicious glances on every -side. - -Two or three who were acquaintances of the Baron d'Escorval averted -their heads, on seeing his carriage, to avoid the necessity of bowing. - -The abbe and Maurice found an explanation of this evident terror on -reaching the hotel to which they had ordered the coachman to take -them. - -They had designated the Hotel de France, where the baron always -stopped when he visited Montaignac, and whose proprietor was none -other than Laugeron, that friend of Lacheneur, who had been the first -to warn him of the arrival of the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -This worthy man, on hearing what guests had arrived, went to the -court-yard to meet them, with his white cap in his hand. - -On such a day politeness was heroism. Was he connected with the -conspiracy? It has always been supposed so. - -He invited Maurice and the abbe to take some refreshments in a way -that made them understand he was anxious to speak with them, and he -conducted them to a retired room where he knew they would be secure -from observation. - -Thanks to one of the Duc de Sairmeuse's valets de chambre who -frequented the house, the host knew as much as the authorities; he -knew even more, since he had also received information from the rebels -who had escaped capture. - -From him the abbe and Maurice received their first positive -information. - -In the first place, nothing had been heard of Lacheneur, or of his son -Jean; thus far they had escaped the most rigorous pursuit. - -In the second place, there were, at this moment, two hundred prisoners -in the citadel, and among them the Baron d'Escorval and Chanlouineau. - -And lastly, since morning there had been at least sixty arrests in -Montaignac. - -It was generally supposed that these arrests were the work of some -traitor, and all the inhabitants were trembling with fear. - -But M. Laugeron knew the real cause. It had been confided to him under -pledge of secrecy by his guest, the duke's /valet de chambre/. - -"It is certainly an incredible story, gentlemen," he said; -"nevertheless, it is true. Two officers belonging to the Montaignac -militia, on returning from their expedition this morning at daybreak, -on passing the Croix d'Arcy, found a man, clad in the uniform of the -Emperor's body-guard, lying dead in the fosse." - -Maurice shuddered. - -The unfortunate man, he could not doubt, was the brave old soldier who -had spoken to Lacheneur. - -"Naturally," pursued M. Laugeron, "the two officers examined the body -of the dead man. Between his lips they found a paper, which they -opened and read. It was a list of all the conspirators in the village. -The brave man, knowing he was mortally wounded, endeavored to destroy -this fatal list; but the agonies of death prevented him from -swallowing it----" - -But the abbe and Maurice had not time to listen to the commentaries -with which the hotel proprietor accompanied his recital. - -They despatched a messenger to Mme. d'Escorval and to Marie-Anne, in -order to reassure them, and, without losing a moment, and fully -determined to brave all, they went to the house occupied by the Duc de -Sairmeuse. - -A crowd had gathered about the door. At least a hundred persons were -standing there; men with anxious faces, women in tears, soliciting, -imploring an audience. - -They were the friends and relatives of the unfortunate men who had -been arrested. - -Two footmen, in gorgeous livery and pompous in bearing, had all they -could do to keep back the struggling throng. - -The abbe, hoping that his priestly dress would win him a hearing, -approached and gave his name. But he was repulsed like the others. - -"Monsieur le Duc is busy, and can receive no one," said the servant. -"Monsieur le Duc is preparing his report for His Majesty." - -And in support of this assertion, he pointed to the horses, standing -saddled in the court-yard, and the couriers who were to bear the -despatches. - -The priest sadly rejoined his companions. - -"We must wait!" said he. - -Intentionally or not, the servants were deceiving these poor people. -The duke, just then, was not troubling himself about despatches. A -violent altercation was going on between the Marquis de Courtornieu -and himself. - -Each of these noble personages aspired to the leading role--the one -which would be most generously rewarded, undoubtedly. It was a -conflict of ambitions and of wills. - -It had begun by the exchange of a few recriminations, and it quickly -reached stinging words, bitter allusions, and at last, even threats. - -The marquis declared it necessary to inflict the most frightful--he -said the most /salutary/ punishment upon the offender; the duke, on -the contrary, was inclined to be indulgent. - -The marquis declared that since Lacheneur, the prime mover, and his -son, had both eluded pursuit, it was an urgent necessity to arrest -Marie-Anne. - -The other declared that the arrest and imprisonment of this young girl -would be impolitic, that such a course would render the authorities -odious, and the rebels more zealous. - -As each was firmly wedded to his own opinion, the discussion was -heated, but they failed to convince each other. - -"These rebels must be put down with a strong hand!" urged M. de -Courtornieu. - -"I do not wish to exasperate the populace," replied the duke. - -"Bah! what does public sentiment matter?" - -"It matters a great deal when you cannot depend upon your soldiers. Do -you know what happened last night? There was powder enough burned to -win a battle; there were only fifteen peasants wounded. Our men fired -in the air. You forget that the Montaignac militia is composed, for -the most part, at least of men who formerly fought under Bonaparte, -and who are burning to turn their weapons against us." - -But neither the one nor the other dared to tell the real cause of his -obstinacy. - -Mlle. Blanche had been at Montaignac that morning. She had confided -her anxiety and her sufferings to her father; and she made him swear -that he would profit by this opportunity to rid her of Marie-Anne. - -On his side, the duke, persuaded that Marie-Anne was his son's -mistress, wished, at any cost, to prevent her appearance before the -tribunal. At last the marquis yielded. - -The duke had said to him: "Very well! let us end this dispute," at the -same time glancing so meaningly at a pair of pistols that the worthy -marquis felt a disagreeable chilliness creep up his spine. - -They then went together to examine the prisoners, preceded by a -detachment of soldiery who drove back the crowd, which gathered again -to await the duke's return. So all day Maurice watched the aerial -telegraph established upon the citadel, and whose black arms were -moving incessantly. - -"What orders are travelling through space?" he said to the abbe; "is -it life or is it death?" - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -"Above all, make haste!" Maurice had said to the messenger charged -with bearing a letter to the baroness. - -Nevertheless, the man did not reach Escorval until nightfall. - -Beset by a thousand fears, he had taken the unfrequented roads and had -made long circuits to avoid all the people he saw approaching in the -distance. - -Mme. d'Escorval tore the letter rather than took it from his hands. -She opened it, read it aloud to Marie-Anne, and merely said: - -"Let us go--at once." - -But this was easier said than done. - -They kept but three horses at Escorval. One was nearly dead from its -terrible journey of the previous night; the other two were in -Montaignac. - -What were the ladies to do? To trust to the kindness of their -neighbors was the only resource open to them. - -But these neighbors having heard of the baron's arrest, firmly refused -to lend their horses. They believed they would gravely compromise -themselves by rendering any service to the wife of a man upon whom the -burden of the most terrible of accusations was resting. - -Mme. d'Escorval and Marie-Anne were talking of pursuing their journey -on foot, when Corporal Bavois, enraged at such cowardice, swore by the -sacred name of thunder that this should not be. - -"One moment!" said he. "I will arrange the matter." - -He went away, but reappeared about a quarter of an hour afterward, -leading an old plough-horse by the mane. This clumsy and heavy steed -he harnessed into the cabriolet as best he could. - -But even this did not satisfy the old trooper's complaisance. - -His duties at the chateau were over, as M. d'Escorval had been -arrested, and nothing remained for Corporal Bavois but to rejoin his -regiment. - -He declared that he would not allow these ladies to travel at night, -and unattended, on the road where they might be exposed to many -disagreeable encounters, and that he, in company with two grenadiers, -would escort them to their journey's end. - -"And it will go hard with soldier or civilian who ventures to molest -them, will it not, comrades?" he exclaimed. - -As usual, the two men assented with an oath. - -So, as they pursued their journey, Mme. d'Escorval and Marie-Anne saw -the three men preceding or following the carriage, or oftener walking -beside it. - -Not until they reached the gates of Montaignac did the old soldier -forsake his /protegees/, and then, not without bidding them a -respectful farewell, in the name of his companions as well as himself; -not without telling them, if they had need of him, to call upon -Bavois, corporal of grenadiers, company first, stationed at the -citadel. - -The clocks were striking ten when Mme. d'Escorval and Marie-Anne -alighted at the Hotel de France. - -They found Maurice in despair, and even the abbe disheartened. Since -Maurice had written to them, events had progressed with fearful -rapidity. - -They knew now the orders which had been forwarded by signals from the -citadel. These orders had been printed and affixed to the walls. The -signals had said: - - - "Montaignac must be regarded as in a state of siege. The military - authorities have been granted discretionary power. A military - commission will exercise jurisdiction instead of, and in place of, - the courts. Let peaceable citizens take courage; let the evil- - disposed tremble! As for the rabble, the sword of the law is about - to strike!" - - -Only six lines in all--but each word was a menace. - -That which filled the abbe's heart with dismay was the substitution of -a military commission for a court-martial. - -This upset all his plans, made all his precautions useless, and -destroyed his hopes of saving his friend. - -A court-martial was, of course, hasty and often unjust in its -decisions; but still, it observed some of the forms of procedure -practised in judicial tribunals. It still preserved something of the -solemnity of legal justice, which desires to be enlightened before it -condemns. - -A military commission would infallibly neglect all legal forms; and -summarily condemn and punish the accused parties, as in time of war a -spy is tried and punished. - -"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "they dare to condemn without -investigating, without listening to testimony, without allowing the -accused time to prepare any defence?" - -The abbe was silent. This exceeded his most sinister apprehensions. -Now, he believed anything possible. - -Maurice spoke of an investigation. It had commenced that day, and it -was still going on by the light of the jailer's lantern. - -That is to say, the Duc de Sairmeuse and the Marquis de Courtornieu -were passing the prisoners in review. - -They numbered three hundred, and the duke and his companion had -decided to summon before the commission thirty of the most dangerous -conspirators. - -How were they to select them? By what method could they discover the -extent of each prisoner's guilt? It would have been difficult for them -to explain. - -They went from one to another, asking any question that entered their -minds, and after the terrified man replied, according as they thought -his countenance good or bad, they said to the jailer who acompanied -them: "Keep this one until another time," or, "This one for -to-morrow." - -By daylight, they had thirty names upon their list: and the names of -the Baron d'Escorval and Chanlouineau led all the rest. - -Although the unhappy party at the Hotel de France could not suspect -this fact, they suffered an agony of fear and dread through the long -night which seemed to them eternal. - -As soon as day broke, they heard the beating of the /reveille/ at the -citadel; the hour when they might commence their efforts anew had -come. - -The abbe announced that he was going alone to the duke's house, and -that he would find a way to force an entrance. - -He had bathed his red and swollen eyes in fresh water, and was -prepared to start on his expedition, when someone rapped cautiously at -the door of the chamber. - -Maurice cried: "Come in," and M. Laugeron instantly entered the room. - -His face announced some dreadful misfortune; and the worthy man was -really terrified. He had just learned that the military commission had -been organized. - -In contempt of all human laws and the commonest rules of justice, the -presidency of this tribunal of vengeance and of hatred had been -bestowed upon the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -And he had accepted it--he who was at the same time to play the part -of participant, witness, and judge. - -The other members of the commission were military men. - -"And when does the commission enter upon its functions?" inquired the -abbe. - -"To-day," replied the host, hesitatingly; "this morning--in an hour-- -perhaps sooner!" - -The abbe understood what M. Laugeron meant, but dared not say: "The -commission is assembling, make haste." - -"Come!" he said to Maurice, "I wish to be present when your father is -examined." - -Ah! what would not the baroness have given to follow the priest and -her son? But she could not; she understood this, and submitted. - -They set out, and as they stepped into the street they saw a soldier a -little way from them, who made a friendly gesture. - -They recognized Corporal Bavois, and paused. - -But he, passing them with an air of the utmost indifference, and -apparently without observing them, hastily dropped these words: - -"I have seen Chanlouineau. Be of good cheer; he promises to save -Monsieur d'Escorval!" - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -In the citadel of Montaignac, within the second line of -fortifications, stands an old building known as the chapel. - -Originally consecrated to worship, the structure had, at the time of -which we write, fallen into disuse. It was so damp that it would not -even serve as an arsenal for an artillery regiment, for the guns -rusted there more quickly than in the open air. A black mould covered -the walls to a height of six or seven feet. - -This was the place selected by the Duc de Sairmeuse and the Marquis de -Courtornieu for the assembling of the military commission. - -On first entering it, Maurice and the abbe felt a cold chill strike to -their very hearts; and an indefinable anxiety paralyzed all their -faculties. - -But the commission had not yet commenced its /seance/; and they had -time to look about them. - -The arrangements which had been made in transforming this gloomy hall -into a tribunal, attested the precipitancy of the judges and their -determination to finish their work promptly and mercilessly. - -The arrangements denoted an absence of all form; and one could divine -at once the frightful certainty of the result. - -Three large tables taken from the mess-room, and covered with horse- -blankets instead of tapestry, stood upon the platform. Some unpainted -wooden chairs awaited the judges; but in the centre glittered the -president's chair, a superbly carved and gilded fauteuil, sent by the -Duc de Sairmeuse. - -Several wooden benches had been provided for the prisoners. - -Ropes stretched from one wall to the other divided the chapel into two -parts. It was a precaution against the public. - -A superfluous precaution, alas! - -The abbe and Maurice had expected to find the crowd too great for the -hall, large as it was, and they found the chapel almost unoccupied. - -There were not twenty persons in the building. Standing back in the -shadow of the wall were perhaps a dozen men, pale and gloomy, a sullen -fire smouldering in their eyes, their teeth tightly clinched. They -were army officers retired on half pay. Three men, attired in black, -were conversing in low tones near the door. In a corner stood several -country-women with their aprons over their faces. They were weeping -bitterly, and their sobs alone broke the silence. They were the -mothers, wives, or daughters of the accused men. - -Nine o'clock sounded. The rolling of the drum made the panes of the -only window tremble. A loud voice outside shouted, "Present arms!" The -military commission entered, followed by the Marquis de Courtornieu -and several civil functionaries. - -The duke was in full uniform, his face a little more crimson, and his -air a trifle more haughty than usual. - -"The session is open!" pronounced the Duc de Sairmeuse, the president. - -Then, in a rough voice, he added: - -"Bring in the culprits." - -He had not even the grace to say "the accused." - -They came in, one by one, to the number of twenty, and took their -places on the benches at the foot of the platform. - -Chanlouineau held his head proudly erect, and looked composedly about -him. - -Baron d'Escorval was calm and grave; but not more so than when, in -days gone by, he had been called upon to express his opinion in the -councils of the Empire. - -Both saw Maurice, who was so overcome that he had to lean upon the -abbe for support. But while the baron greeted his son with a simple -bend of the head, Chanlouineau made a gesture that clearly signified: - -"Have confidence in me--fear nothing." - -The attitude of the other prisoners betrayed surprise rather than -fear. Perhaps they were unconscious of the peril they had braved, and -the extent of the danger that now threatened them. - -When the prisoners had taken their places, the chief counsel for the -prosecution rose. - -His presentation of the case was characterized by intense violence, -but lasted only five minutes. He briefly narrated the facts, exalted -the merits of the government, of the Restoration, and concluded by a -demand that sentence of death should be pronounced upon the culprits. - -When he ceased speaking, the duke, addressing the first prisoner upon -the bench, said, rudely: - -"Stand up." - -The prisoner rose. - -"Your name and age?" - -"Eugene Michel Chanlouineau, aged twenty-nine, farmer by occupation." - -"An owner of national lands, probably?" - -"The owner of lands which, having been paid for with good money and -made fertile by labor, are rightfully mine." - -The duke did not wish to waste time on discussion. - -"You have taken part in this rebellion?" he pursued. - -"Yes." - -"You are right in avowing it, for witnesses will be introduced who -will prove this fact conclusively." - -Five grenadiers entered; they were the men whom Chanlouineau had held -at bay while Maurice, the abbe, and Marie-Anne were entering the -carriage. - -These soldiers declared upon oath that they recognized the accused; -and one of them even went so far as to pronounce a glowing eulogium -upon him, declaring him to be a solid fellow, of remarkable courage. - -Chanlouineau's eyes during this deposition betrayed an agony of -anxiety. Would the soldiers allude to this circumstance of the -carriage? No; they did not allude to it. - -"That is sufficient," interrupted the president. - -Then turning to Chanlouineau: - -"What were your motives?" he inquired. - -"We hoped to free ourselves from a government imposed upon us by -foreigners; to free ourselves from the insolence of the nobility, and -to retain the lands that were justly ours." - -"Enough! You were one of the leaders of the revolt?" - -"One of the leaders--yes." - -"Who were the others?" - -A faint smile flitted over the lips of the young farmer, as he -replied: - -"The others were Monsieur Lacheneur, his son Jean, and the Marquis de -Sairmeuse." - -The duke bounded from his gilded arm-chair. - -"Wretch!" he exclaimed, "rascal! vile scoundrel!" - -He caught up a heavy inkstand that stood upon the table before him: -and one would have supposed that he was about to hurl it at the -prisoner's head. - -Chanlouineau stood perfectly unmoved in the midst of the assembly, -which was excited to the highest pitch by his startling declaration. - -"You questioned me," he resumed, "and I replied. You may gag me if my -responses do not please you. If there were witnesses /for/ me as there -are against me, I could prove the truth of my words. As it is, all the -prisoners here will tell you that I am speaking the truth. Is it not -so, you others?" - -With the exception of Baron d'Escorval, there was not one prisoner who -was capable of understanding the real bearing of these audacious -allegations; but all, nevertheless, nodded their assent. - -"The Marquis de Sairmeuse was so truly our leader," exclaimed the -daring peasant, "that he was wounded by a sabre-thrust while fighting -by my side." - -The face of the duke was more purple than that of a man struck with -apoplexy; and his fury almost deprived him of the power of speech. - -"You lie, scoundrel! you lie!" he gasped. - -"Send for the marquis," said Chanlouineau, tranquilly, "and see -whether or not he is wounded." - -A refusal on the part of the duke could not fail to arouse suspicion. -But what could he do? Martial had concealed his wound the day before; -it was now impossible to confess that he had been wounded. - -Fortunately for the duke, one of the judges relieved him of his -embarrassment. - -"I hope, Monsieur, that you will not give this arrogant rebel the -satisfaction he desires. The commission opposes his demand." - -Chanlouineau laughed loudly. - -"Very naturally," he exclaimed. "To-morrow my head will be off, and -you think nothing will then remain to prove what I say. I have another -proof, fortunately--material and indestructible proof--which it is -beyond your power to destroy, and which will speak when my body is six -feet under ground." - -"What is the proof?" demanded another judge, upon whom the duke looked -askance. - -The prisoner shook his head. - -"I will give it to you when you offer me my life in exchange for it," -he replied. "It is now in the hands of a trusty person, who knows its -value. It will go to the King if necessary. We would like to -understand the part which the Marquis de Sairmeuse has played in this -affair--whether he was truly with us, or whether he was only an -instigating agent." - -A tribunal regardful of the immutable rules of justice, or even of its -own honor, would, by virtue of its discretionary powers, have -instantly demanded the presence of the Marquis de Sairmeuse. - -But the military commission considered such a course quite beneath its -dignity. - -These men arrayed in gorgeous uniforms were not judges charged with -the vindication of a cruel law, but still a law--they were the -instruments, commissioned by the conquerors, to strike the vanquished -in the name of that savage code which may be summed up in two words: -"/vae victis/." - -The president, the noble Duc de Sairmeuse, would not have consented to -summon Martial on any consideration. Nor did his associate judges wish -him to do so. - -Had Chanlouineau foreseen this? Probably. Yet, why had he ventured so -hazardous a blow? - -The tribunal, after a short deliberation, decided that it would not -admit this testimony which had so excited the audience, and stupefied -Maurice and Abbe Midon. - -The examination was continued, therefore, with increased bitterness. - -"Instead of designating imaginary leaders," resumed the duke, "you -would do well to name the real instigator of this revolt--not -Lacheneur, but an individual seated upon the other end of the bench, -the elder d'Escorval----" - -"Monsieur le Baron d'Escorval was entirely ignorant of the conspiracy, -I swear it by all that I hold most sacred----" - -"Hold your tongue!" interrupted the counsel for the prosecution. -"Instead of wearying the patience of the commission by such ridiculous -stories, try to merit its indulgence." - -Chanlouineau's glance and gesture expressed such disdain that the man -who interrupted him was abashed. - -"I wish no indulgence," he said. "I have played, I have lost; here is -my head. But if you were not more cruel than wild beasts you would -take pity on the poor wretches who surround me. I see at least ten -among them who were not our accomplices, and who certainly did not -take up arms. Even the others did not know what they were doing. No, -they did not!" - -Having spoken, he resumed his seat, proud, indifferent, and apparently -oblivious to the murmur which ran through the audience, the soldiers -of the guard and even to the platform, at the sound of his vibrant -voice. - -The despair of the poor peasant women had been reawakened, and their -sobs and moans filled the immense hall. - -The retired officers had grown even more pale and gloomy; and tears -streamed down the wrinkled cheeks of several. - -"That one is a man!" they were thinking. - -The abbe leaned over and whispered in the ear of Maurice: - -"Evidently Chanlouineau has some plan. He intends to save your father. -How, I cannot understand." - -The judges were conversing in low tones with considerable animation. - -A difficulty had presented itself. - -The prisoners, ignorant of the charges which would be brought against -them, and not expecting instant trial, had not thought of procuring a -defender. - -And this circumstance, bitter mockery! frightened this iniquitous -tribunal, which did not fear to trample beneath its feet the most -sacred rules of justice. - -The judges had decided; their verdict was, as it were, rendered in -advance, and yet they wished to hear a voice raised in defence of -those who were already doomed. - -It chanced that three lawyers, retained by the friends of several of -the prisoners, were in the hall. - -They were the three men that Maurice, on his entrance, had noticed -conversing near the door of the chapel. - -The duke was informed of this fact. He turned to them, and motioned -them to approach; then, pointing to Chanlouineau: - -"Will you undertake this culprit's defence?" he demanded. - -For a moment the lawyers made no response. This monstrous /seance/ had -aroused a storm of indignation and disgust within their breasts, and -they looked questioningly at each other. - -"We are all disposed to undertake the prisoner's defence," at last -replied the eldest of the three; "but we see him for the first time; -we are ignorant of his grounds of defence. We must ask a delay; it is -indispensable, in order to confer with him." - -"The court can grant you no delay," interrupted M. de Sairmeuse; "will -you accept the defence, yes or no?" - -The advocate hesitated, not that he was afraid, for he was a brave -man: but he was endeavoring to find some argument strong enough to -trouble the conscience of these judges. - -"I will speak in his behalf," said the advocate, at last, "but not -without first protesting with all my strength against these unheard-of -modes of procedure." - -"Oh! spare us your homilies, and be brief." - -After Chanlouineau's examination, it was difficult to improvise there, -on the spur of the moment, a plea in his behalf. Still, his courageous -advocate, in his indignation, presented a score of arguments which -would have made any other tribunal reflect. - -But all the while he was speaking the Duc de Sairmeuse fidgeted in his -gilded arm-chair with every sign of angry impatience. - -"The plea was very long," he remarked, when the lawyer had concluded, -"terribly long. We shall never get through with this business if each -prisoner takes up as much time!" - -He turned to his colleagues as if to consult them, but suddenly -changing his mind he proposed to the prosecuting counsel that he -should unite all the cases, try all the culprits in a body, with the -exception of the elder d'Escorval. - -"This will shorten our task, for, in case we adopt this course, there -will be but two judgments to be pronounced," he said. "This will not, -of course, prevent each individual from defending himself." - -The lawyers protested against this. A judgment in a lump, like that -suggested by the duke, would destroy all hope of saving a single one -of these unfortunate men from the guillotine. - -"How can we defend them," the lawyers pleaded, "when we know nothing -of the situation of each of the prisoners? we do not even know their -names. We shall be obliged to designate them by the cut of their coats -and by the color of their hair." - -They implored the tribunal to grant them a week for preparation, four -days, even twenty-four hours. Futile efforts! The president's -proposition was adopted. - -Consequently, each prisoner was called to the desk according to the -place which he occupied upon the benches. Each man gave his name, his -age, his abode, and his profession, and received an order to return to -his place. - -Six or seven prisoners were actually granted time to say that they -were absolutely ignorant of the conspiracy, and that they had been -arrested while conversing quietly upon the public highway. They begged -to be allowed to furnish proof of the truth of their assertions; they -invoked the testimony of the soldiers who had arrested them. - -M. d'Escorval, whose case had been separated from the others, was not -summoned to the desk. He would be interrogated last. - -"Now the counsel for the defence will be heard," said the duke; "but -make haste; lose no time! It is already twelve o'clock." - -Then began a shameful, revolting, and unheard-of scene. The duke -interrupted the lawyers every other moment, bidding them be silent, -questioning them, or jeering at them. - -"It seems incredible," said he, "that anyone can think of defending -such wretches!" - -Or again: - -"Silence! You should blush with shame for having constituted yourself -the defender of such rascals!" - -But the lawyers persevered even while they realized the utter -uselessness of their efforts. But what could they do under such -circumstances? The defence of these twenty-nine prisoners lasted only -one hour and a half. - -Before the last word was fairly uttered, the Duc de Sairmeuse gave a -sigh of relief, and in a tone which betrayed his delight, said: - -"Prisoner Escorval, stand up." - -Thus called upon, the baron rose, calm and dignified. Terrible as his -sufferings must have been, there was no trace of it upon his noble -face. - -He had even repressed the smile of disdain which the duke's paltry -affection in not giving him the title which belonged to him, brought -to his lips. - -But Chanlouineau sprang up at the same time, trembling with -indignation, his face all aglow with anger. - -"Remain seated," ordered the duke, "or you shall be removed from the -court-room." - -Chanlouineau, nevertheless, declared that he would speak; that he had -some remarks to add to the plea made by the defending counsel. - -Upon a sign from the duke, two gendarmes approached and placed their -hands upon his shoulders. He allowed them to force him back into his -seat though he could easily have crushed them with one pressure of his -brawny arm. - -An observer would have supposed that he was furious; secretly, he was -delighted. The aim he had had in view was now attained. In the glance -he cast upon the abbe, the latter could read: - -"Whatever happens, watch over Maurice; restrain him. Do not allow him -to defeat my plans by any outbreak." - -This caution was not unnecessary. Maurice was terribly agitated; he -could not see, he felt that he was suffocating, that he was losing his -reason. - -"Where is the self-control you promised me?" murmured the priest. - -But no one observed the young man's condition. The attention was rapt, -breathless. So profound was the silence that the measured tread of the -sentinels without could be distinctly heard. - -Each person present felt that the decisive moment for which the -tribunal had reserved all its attention and efforts had come. - -To convict and condemn the poor peasants, of whom no one would think -twice, was a mere trifle. But to bring low an illustrious man who had -been the counsellor and faithful friend of the Emperor! What glory, -and what an opportunity for the ambitious! - -The instinct of the audience spoke the truth. If the tribunal had -acted informally in the case of the obscure conspirators, it had -carefully prepared its suit against the baron. - -Thanks to the activity of the Marquis de Courtornieu, the prosecution -had found seven charges against the baron, the least grave of which -was punishable by death. - -"Which of you," demanded M. de Sairmeuse, "will consent to defend this -great culprit?" - -"I!" exclaimed three advocates, in a breath. - -"Take care," said the duke, with a malicious smile; "the task is not -light." - -"Not light!" It would have been better to say dangerous. It would have -been better to say that the defender risked his career, his peace, and -his liberty; very probably, his life. - -"Our profession has its exigencies," nobly replied the oldest of the -advocates. - -And the three courageously took their places beside the baron, thus -avenging the honor of their robe which had just been miserably -sullied, in a city where, among more than a hundred thousand souls, -two pure and innocent victims of a furious reaction had not--oh, -shame!--been able to find a defender. - -"Prisoner," resumed M. de Sairmeuse, "state your name and profession." - -"Louis Guillaume, Baron d'Escorval, Commander of the Order of the -Legion of Honor, formerly Councillor of State under the Empire." - -"So you avow these shameful services? You confess----" - -"Pardon, Monsieur; I am proud of having had the honor of serving my -country, and of being useful to her in proportion to my ability----" - -With a furious gesture the duke interrupted him. - -"That is excellent!" he exclaimed. "These gentlemen, the -commissioners, will appreciate that. It was, undoubtedly, in the hope -of regaining your former position that you entered into a conspiracy -against a magnanimous prince with these vile wretches!" - -"These peasants are not vile wretches, but misguided men, Monsieur. -Moreover, you know--yes, you know as well as I do myself--that I have -had no hand in this conspiracy." - -"You were arrested in the ranks of the conspirators with weapons in -your hands!" - -"I was unarmed, Monsieur, as you are well aware; and if I was among -the peasantry, it was only because I hoped to induce them to -relinquish their senseless enterprise." - -"You lie!" - -The baron paled beneath the insult, but he made no reply. - -There was, however, one man in the assemblage who could no longer -endure this horrible and abominable injustice, and this man was Abbe -Midon, who, only a moment before, had advised Maurice to be calm. - -He brusquely quitted his place, and advanced to the foot of the -platform. - -"The Baron d'Escorval speaks the truth," he cried, in a ringing voice; -"the three hundred prisoners in the citadel will swear to it; these -prisoners here would say the same if they stood upon the guillotine; -and I, who accompanied him, who walked beside him, I, a priest, swear -before the God who will judge all men, Monsieur de Sairmeuse, I swear -that all which it was in human power to do to arrest this movement we -have done!" - -The duke listened with an ironical smile. - -"They did not deceive me, then, when they told me that this army of -rebels had a chaplain! Ah! Monsieur, you should sink to the earth with -shame. You, a priest, mingle with such scoundrels as these--with these -enemies of our good King and of our holy religion! Do not deny this! -Your haggard features, your swollen eyes, your disordered attire -soiled with dust and mud betray your guilt. Must I, a soldier, remind -you of what is due your sacred calling? Hold your peace, Monsieur, and -depart!" - -The counsel for the prisoner sprang up. - -"We demand," they cried, "that this witness be heard. He must be -heard! Military commissions are not above the laws that regulate -ordinary tribunals." - -"If I do not speak the truth," resumed the abbe, "I am a perjured -witness, worse yet, an accomplice. It is your duty, in that case, to -have me arrested." - -The duke's face expressed a hypocritical compassion. - -"No, Monsieur le Cure," said he, "I shall not arrest you. I would -avert the scandal which you are trying to cause. We will show your -priestly garb the respect the wearer does not deserve. Again, and for -the last time, retire, or I shall be obliged to employ force." - -What would further resistance avail? Nothing. The abbe, with a face -whiter than the plastered walls, and eyes filled with tears, came back -to his place beside Maurice. - -The lawyers, meanwhile, were uttering their protests with increasing -energy. But the duke, by a prolonged hammering upon the table with his -fists, at last succeeded in reducing them to silence. - -"Ah! you wish testimony!" he exclaimed. "Very well, you shall have it. -Soldiers, bring in the first witness." - -A movement among the guards, and almost immediately Chupin appeared. -He advanced deliberately, but his countenance betrayed him. A close -observer could have read his anxiety and his terror in his eyes, which -wandered restlessly about the room. - -And there was a very appreciable terror in his voice when, with hand -uplifted, he swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but -the truth. - -"What do you know regarding the prisoner d'Escorval?" demanded the -duke. - -"I know that he took part in the rebellion on the night of the -fourth." - -"Are you sure of this?" - -"I can furnish proofs." - -"Submit them to the consideration of the commission." - -The old scoundrel began to gain more confidence. - -"First," he replied, "it was to the house of Monsieur d'Escorval that -Lacheneur hastened after he had, much against his will, restored to -Monsieur le Duc the chateau of Monsieur le Duc's ancestors. Monsieur -Lacheneur met Chanlouineau there, and from that day dates the plot of -this insurrection." - -"I was Lacheneur's friend," said the baron; "it was perfectly natural -that he should come to me for consolation after a great misfortune." - -M. de Sairmeuse turned to his colleague. - -"You hear that!" said he. "This d'Escorval calls the restitution of a -deposit a great misfortune! Go on, witness." - -"In the second place," resumed Chupin, "the accused was always -prowling about Lacheneur's house." - -"That is false," interrupted the baron. "I never visited the house but -once, and on that occasion I implored him to renounce." - -He paused, comprehending only when it was too late, the terrible -significance of his words. But having begun, he would not retract, and -he added: - -"I implored him to renounce this project of an insurrection." - -"Ah! then you knew his wicked intentions?" - -"I suspected them." - -"Not to reveal a conspiracy makes one an accomplice, and means the -guillotine." - -Baron d'Escorval had just signed his death-warrant. - -Strange caprice of destiny! He was innocent, and yet he was the only -one among the accused whom a regular tribunal could have legally -condemned. - -Maurice and the abbe were prostrated with grief; but Chanlouineau, who -turned toward them, had still upon his lips a smile of confidence. - -How could he hope when all hope seemed absolutely lost? - -But the commissioners made no attempt to conceal their satisfaction. -M. de Sairmeuse, especially, evinced an indecent joy. - -"Ah, well! Messieurs?" he said to the lawyers, in a sneering tone. - -The counsel for the defence poorly dissimulated their discouragement; -but they nevertheless endeavored to question the validity of such a -declaration on the part of their client. He had said that he -/suspected/ the conspiracy, not that he /knew/ it. It was quite a -different thing. - -"Say at once that you wish still more overwhelming evidence," -interrupted the duke. "Very well! You shall have it. Continue your -deposition, witness." - -"The accused," continued Chupin, "was present at all the conferences -held at Lacheneur's house. The proof of this is as clear as daylight. -Being obliged to cross the Oiselle to reach the Reche, and fearing the -ferryman would notice his frequent nocturnal voyages, the baron had an -old boat repaired which he had not used for years." - -"Ah! that is a remarkable circumstance, prisoner; do you recollect -having your boat repaired?" - -"Yes; but not for the purpose which this man mentions." - -"For what purpose, then?" - -The baron made no response. Was it not in compliance with the request -of Maurice that the boat had been put in order? - -"And finally," continued Chupin, "when Lacheneur set fire to his house -to give the signal for the insurrection, the prisoner was with him." - -"That," exclaimed the duke, "is conclusive evidence." - -"I was, indeed, at the Reche," interrupted the baron; "but it was, as -I have already told you, with the firm determination of preventing -this outbreak." - -M. de Sairmeuse gave utterance to a little disdainful laugh. - -"Ah, gentlemen!" he said, addressing the commissioners, "can you not -see that the prisoner's courage does not equal his depravity? But I -will confound him. What did you do, prisoner, when the insurgents left -the Reche?" - -"I returned to my home with all possible haste, took a horse and -repaired to the Croix d'Arcy." - -"Then you knew that this was the spot appointed for the general -rendezvous?" - -"Lacheneur had just informed me." - -"If I believed your story, I should tell you that it was your duty to -have hastened to Montaignac and informed the authorities. But what you -say is untrue. You did not leave Lacheneur, you accompanied him." - -"No, Monsieur, no!" - -"And what if I could prove this fact beyond all question?" - -"Impossible, Monsieur, since such was not the case." - -By the malicious satisfaction that lighted M. de Sairmeuse's face, the -abbe knew that this wicked judge had some terrible weapon in his -hands, and that Baron d'Escorval was about to be overwhelmed by one of -those fatal coincidences which explain, although they do not justify, -judicial errors. - -At a sign from the counsel for the prosecution, the Marquis de -Courtornieu left his seat and came forward to the platform. - -"I must request you, Monsieur le Marquis," said the duke, "to have the -goodness to read to the commission the deposition written and signed -by your daughter." - -This scene must have been prepared in advance for the audience. M. de -Courtornieu cleaned his glasses, drew from his pocket a paper which he -unfolded, and amid a death-like silence, he read: - -"I, Blanche de Courtornieu, do declare upon oath that, on the evening -of the fourth of February, between ten and eleven o'clock, on the -public road leading from Sairmeuse to Montaignac, I was assailed by a -crowd of armed brigands. While they were deliberating as to whether -they should take possession of my person and pillage my carriage, I -overheard one of these men say to another, speaking of me: 'She must -get out, must she not, Monsieur d'Escorval?' I believe that the -brigand who uttered these words was a peasant named Chanlouineau, but -I dare not assert it on oath." - -A terrible cry, followed by inarticulate moans, interrupted the -marquis. - -The suffering which Maurice endured was too great for his strength and -his reason. He was about to spring forward and cry: - -"It was I who addressed those words to Chanlouineau. I alone am -guilty; my father is innocent!" - -But fortunately the abbe had the presence of mind to hold him back, -and place his hand over the poor youth's lips. - -But the priest would not have been able to restrain Maurice without -the aid of the retired army officers, who were standing beside him. - -Divining all, perhaps, they surrounded Maurice, took him up, and -carried him from the room by main force, in spite of his violent -resistance. - -All this occupied scarcely ten seconds. - -"What is the cause of this disturbance?" inquired the duke, looking -angrily over the audience. - -No one uttered a word. - -"At the least noise the hall shall be cleared," added M. de Sairmeuse. -"And you, prisoner, what have you to say in self-justification, after -this crushing accusation by Mademoiselle de Courtornieu?" - -"Nothing," murmured the baron. - -"So you confess your guilt?" - -Once outside, the abbe confided Maurice to the care of three officers, -who promised to go with him, to carry him by main force, if need be, -to the hotel, and keep him there. - -Relieved on this score, the priest re-entered the hall just in time to -see the baron seat himself without making any response, thus -indicating that he had relinquished all intention of defending his -life. - -Really, what could he say? How could he defend himself without -betraying his son? - -Until now there had not been one person who did not believe in the -baron's entire innocence. Could it be that he was guilty? His silence -must be accepted as a confession of guilt; at least, some present -believed so. - -Baron d'Escorval appeared to be guilty. Was that not a sufficiently -great victory for the Duc de Sairmeuse? - -He turned to the lawyers, and with an air of weariness and disdain he -said: - -"Now speak, since it is absolutely necessary; but no long phrases! We -should have finished here an hour ago." - -The oldest lawyer rose, trembling with indignation, ready to dare -anything for the sake of giving free utterance to his thought, but the -baron checked him. - -"Do not try to defend me," he said, calmly; "it would be labor wasted. -I have only a word to say to my judges. Let them remember what the -noble and generous Marshal Moncey wrote to the King: 'The scaffold -does not make friends.'" - -This recollection was not of a nature to soften the hearts of the -judges. The marshal, for that saying, had been deprived of his office, -and condemned to three months' imprisonment. - -As the advocates made no further attempt to argue the case, the -commission retired to deliberate. This gave M. d'Escorval an -opportunity to speak with his defenders. He shook them warmly by the -hand, and thanked them for their devotion and for their courage. - -The good man wept. - -Then the baron, turning to the oldest among them, quickly and in a low -voice said: - -"I have a last favor to ask of you. When the sentence of death shall -have been pronounced upon me, go at once to my son. You will say to -him that his dying father commands him to live; he will understand -you. Tell him it is my last wish; that he live--live for his mother!" - -He said no more; the judges were returning. - -Of the thirty prisoners, nine were declared not guilty, and released. - -The remaining twenty-one, and M. d'Escorval and Chanlouineau were -among the number, were condemned to death. - -But the smile had not once forsaken Chanlouineau's lips. - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -The abbe had been right in feeling he could trust the officers to -whose care he had confided Maurice. - -Finding their entreaties would not induce him to leave the citadel, -they seized him and literally carried him away. He made the most -desperate efforts to escape; each step was a struggle. - -"Leave me!" he exclaimed; "let me go where duty calls me. You only -dishonor me in pretending to save me." - -His agony was terrible. He had thrown himself headlong into this -absurd undertaking, and now the responsibility of his acts had fallen -upon his father. He, the culprit, would live, and his innocent father -would perish on the guillotine. It was to this his love for Marie-Anne -had led him, that radiant love which in other days had smiled so -joyously. - -But our capacity for suffering has its limits. - -When they had carried him to the room in the hotel where his mother -and Marie-Anne were waiting in agonized surprise, that irresistible -torpor which follows suffering too intense for human endurance, crept -over him. - -"Nothing is decided yet," the officers answered in response to Mme. -d'Escorval's questions. "The cure will hasten here as soon as the -verdict is rendered." - -Then, as they had promised not to lose sight of Maurice, they seated -themselves in gloomy silence. - -The house was silent. One might have supposed the hotel deserted. At -last, a little before four o'clock, the abbe came in, followed by the -lawyer to whom the baron had confided his last wishes. - -"My husband!" exclaimed Mme. d'Escorval, springing wildly from her -chair. - -The priest bowed his head; she understood. - -"Death!" she faltered. "They have condemned him!" - -And overcome by the terrible blow, she sank back, inert, with hanging -arms. - -But the weakness did not last long; she again sprang up, her eyes -brilliant with heroic resolve. - -"We must save him!" she exclaimed. "We must wrest him from the -scaffold. Up, Maurice! up, Marie-Anne! No more weak lamentations, we -must to work! You, also, gentlemen, will aid me. I can count upon your -assistance, Monsieur le Cure. What are we going to do? I do not know! -But something must be done. The death of this just man would be too -great a crime. God will not permit it." - -She suddenly paused, with clasped hands, and eyes uplifted to heaven, -as if seeking divine inspiration. - -"And the King," she resumed; "will the King consent to such a crime? -No. A king can refuse mercy, but he cannot refuse justice. I will go -to him. I will tell him all! Why did not this thought come to me -sooner? We must start for Paris without losing an instant. Maurice, -you will accompany me. One of you gentlemen will go at once and order -post-horses." - -Thinking they would obey her, she hastened into the next room to make -preparations for her journey. - -"Poor woman!" the lawyer whispered to the abbe, "she does not know -that the sentence of a military commission is executed in twenty-four -hours." - -"Well?" - -"It requires four days to make the journey to Paris." - -He reflected a moment, then added: - -"But, after all, to let her go would be an act of mercy. Did not Ney, -on the morning of his execution, implore the King to order the removal -of his wife who was sobbing and moaning in his cell?" - -The abbe shook his head. - -"No," said he; "Madame d'Escorval will never forgive us if we prevent -her from receiving her husband's last farewell." - -She, at that very moment, re-entered the room, and the priest was -trying to gather courage to tell her the cruel truth, when someone -knocked violently at the door. - -One of the officers went to open it, and Bavois, the corporal of -grenadiers, entered, his right hand lifted to his cap, as if he were -in the presence of his superior officer. - -"Is Mademoiselle Lacheneur here?" he demanded. - -Marie-Anne came forward. - -"I am she, Monsieur," she replied; "what do you desire of me?" - -"I am ordered, Mademoiselle, to conduct you to the citadel." - -"Ah!" exclaimed Maurice, in a ferocious tone; "so they imprison women -also!" - -The worthy corporal struck himself a heavy blow upon the forehead. - -"I am an old stupid!" he exclaimed, "and express myself badly. I meant -to say that I came to seek mademoiselle at the request of one of the -condemned, a man named Chanlouineau, who desires to speak with her." - -"Impossible, my good man," said one of the officers; "they would not -allow this lady to visit one of the condemned without special -permission----" - -"Well, she has this permission," said the old soldier. - -Assuring himself, with a glance, that he had nothing to fear from -anyone present, he added, in lower tones: - -"This Chanlouineau told me that the cure would understand his -reasons." - -Had the brave peasant really found some means of salvation? The abbe -almost began to believe it. - -"You must go with this worthy man, Marie-Anne," said he. - -The poor girl shuddered at the thought of seeing Chanlouineau again, -but the idea of refusing never once occurred to her. - -"Let us go," she said, quietly. - -But the corporal did not stir from his place, and winking, according -to his habit when he desired to attract the attention of his hearers: - -"In one moment," he said. "This Chanlouineau, who seems to be a shrewd -fellow, told me to tell you that all was going well. May I be hung if -I can see how! Still such is his opinion. He also told me to tell you -not to stir from this place, and not to attempt anything until -mademoiselle returns, which will be in less than an hour. He swears to -you that he will keep his promise; he only asks you to pledge your -word that you will obey him----" - -"We will take no action until an hour has passed," said the abbe. "I -promise that----" - -"That is all. Salute company. And now, Mademoiselle, on the double- -quick, march! The poor devil over there must be on coals of fire." - -That a condemned prisoner should be allowed to receive a visit from -the daughter of the leader of the rebellion--of that Lacheneur who had -succeeded in making his escape--was indeed surprising. - -But Chanlouineau had been ingenious enough to discover a means of -procuring this special permission. - -With this aim in view, when sentence of death was passed upon him, he -pretended to be overcome with terror, and to weep piteously. - -The soldiers could scarcely believe their eyes when they saw this -robust young fellow, who had been so insolent and defiant a few hours -before, so overcome that they were obliged to carry him to his cell. - -There, his lamentations were redoubled; and he begged the guard to go -to the Duc de Sairmeuse, or the Marquis de Courtornieu, and tell them -he had revelations of the greatest importance to make. - -That potent word "revelations" made M. de Courtornieu hasten to the -prisoner's cell. - -He found Chanlouineau on his knees, his features distorted by what was -apparently an agony of fear. The man dragged himself toward him, took -his hands and kissed them, imploring mercy and forgiveness, swearing -that to preserve his life he was ready to do anything, yes, anything, -even to deliver up M. Lacheneur. - -To capture Lacheneur! Such a prospect had powerful attractions for the -Marquis de Courtornieu. - -"Do you know, then, where this brigand is concealed?" he inquired. - -Chanlouineau admitted that he did not know, but declared that Marie- -Anne, Lacheneur's daughter, knew her father's hiding-place. She had, -he declared, perfect confidence in him; and if they would only send -for her, and allow him ten minutes' private conversation with her, he -was sure he could obtain the secret of her father's place of -concealment. So the bargain was quickly concluded. - -The prisoner's life was promised, him in exchange for the life of -Lacheneur. - -A soldier, who chanced to be Corporal Bavois, was sent to summon -Marie-Anne. - -And Chanlouineau waited in terrible anxiety. No one had told him what -had taken place at Escorval, but he divined it by the aid of that -strange prescience which so often illuminates the mind when death is -near at hand. - -He was almost certain that Mme. d'Escorval was in Montaignac; he was -equally certain that Marie-Anne was with her; and if she were, he knew -that she would come. - -And he waited, counting the seconds by the throbbings of his heart. - -He waited, understanding the cause of every sound without, -distinguishing with the marvellous acuteness of senses excited to the -highest pitch by passion, sounds which would have been inaudible to -another person. - -At last, at the end of the corridor, he heard the rustling of a dress -against the wall. - -"It is she," he murmured. - -Footsteps approached; the heavy bolts were drawn back, the door -opened, and Marie-Anne entered, accompanied by Corporal Bavois. - -"Monsieur de Courtornieu promised me that we should be left alone!" -exclaimed Chanlouineau. - -"Therefore, I go at once," replied the old soldier. "But I have orders -to return for mademoiselle in half an hour." - -When the door closed behind the worthy corporal, Chanlouineau took -Marie-Anne's hand and drew her to the tiny grafted window. - -"Thank you for coming," said he, "thank you. I can see you and speak -to you once more. Now that my hours are numbered, I may reveal the -secret of my soul and of my life. Now, I can venture to tell you how -ardently I have loved you--how much I still love you." - -Involuntarily Marie-Anne drew away her hand and stepped back. - -This outburst of passion, at such a moment, seemed at once unspeakably -sad and frightful. - -"Have I, then, offended you?" said Chanlouineau, sadly. "Forgive one -who is about to die! You cannot refuse to listen to the voice of one, -who after tomorrow, will have vanished from earth forever. - -"I have loved you for a long time, Marie-Anne, for more than six -years. Before I saw you, I loved only my possessions. To raise fine -crops, and to amass a fortune, seemed to me, then, the greatest -possible happiness here below. - -"Why did I meet you? But at that time you were so high, and I, so low, -that never in my wildest dreams did I aspire to you. I went to church -each Sunday only that I might worship you as peasant women worship the -Blessed Virgin; I went home with my eyes and my heart full of you--and -that was all. - -"Then came the misfortune that brought us nearer to each other; and -your father made me as insane, yes, as insane as himself. - -"After the insults he received from the Sairmeuse, your father -resolved to revenge himself upon these arrogant nobles, and he -selected me for his accomplice. He had read my heart. On leaving the -house of Baron d'Escorval, on that Sunday evening, which you must -remember, the compact that bound me to your father was made. - -"'You love my daughter, my boy,' said he. 'Very well, aid me, and I -promise you, in case we succeed, she shall be your wife. Only,' he -added, 'I must warn you that you hazard your life.' - -"But what was life in comparison with the hope that dazzled me! From -that night I gave body, soul, and fortune to the cause. Others were -influenced by hatred, or by ambition; but I was actuated by neither of -these motives. - -"What did the quarrels of the great matter to me--a simple laborer? I -knew that the greatest were powerless to give my crops a drop of rain -in season of drought, or a ray of sunshine during the rain. - -"I took part in this conspiracy because I loved you----" - -"Ah! you are cruel!" exclaimed Marie-Anne, "you are pitiless!" - -It seemed to the poor girl that he was reproaching her for the -horrible fate which Lacheneur had brought upon him, and for the -terrible part which her father had imposed upon her, and which she had -not been strong enough to refuse to perform. - -But Chanlouineau scarcely heard Marie-Anne's exclamation. All the -bitterness of the past had mounted to his brain like fumes of alcohol. -He was scarcely conscious of his own words. - -"But the day soon came," he continued, "when my foolish illusions were -destroyed. You could not be mine since you belonged to another. I -might have broken my compact! I thought of doing so, but had not the -courage. To see you, to hear your voice, to dwell beneath the same -roof with you, was happiness. I longed to see you happy and honored; I -fought for the triumph of another, for him whom you had chosen----" - -A sob that had risen in his throat choked his utterance; he buried his -face in his hands to hide his tears, and, for a moment, seemed -completely overcome. - -But he mastered his weakness after a little and in a firm voice, he -said: - -"We must not linger over the past. Time flies and the future is -ominous." - -As he spoke, he went to the door and applied first his eye, then his -ear to the opening, to see that there were no spies without. - -No one was in the corridor; he could not hear a sound. - -He came back to Marie-Anne's side, and tearing the sleeve of his -jacket open with his teeth, he drew from it two letters, wrapped -carefully in a piece of cloth. - -"Here," he said, in a low voice, "is a man's life!" - -Marie-Anne knew nothing of Chanlouineau's promises and hopes, and -bewildered by her distress, she did not at first understand. - -"This," she exclaimed, "is a man's life!" - -"Hush, speak lower!" interrupted Chanlouineau. "Yes, one of these -letters might perhaps save the life of one who has been condemned to -death." - -"Unfortunate man! Why do you not make use of it and save yourself?" - -The young man sadly shook his head. - -"Is it possible that you could ever love me?" he said, simply. "No, it -is not. I have, therefore, no desire to live. Rest beneath the sod is -preferable to the misery I am forced to endure. Moreover I was justly -condemned. I knew what I was doing when I left the Reche with my gun -upon my shoulder, and my sword by my side; I have no right to -complain. But those cruel judges have condemned an innocent man----" - -"Baron d'Escorval?" - -"Yes--the father of--Maurice!" - -His voice changed in uttering the name of this man, for whose -happiness he would have given ten lives had they been his to give. - -"I wish to save him," he added, "I can do it." - -"Oh! if what you said were true? But you undoubtedly deceive -yourself." - -"I know what I am saying." - -Fearing that some spy outside would overhear him, he came close to -Marie-Anne and said, rapidly, and in a low voice: - -"I never believed in the success of this conspiracy. When I sought for -a weapon of defence in case of failure, the Marquis de Sairmeuse -furnished it. When it became necessary to send a circular warning our -accomplices of the date decided upon for the uprising, I persuaded -Monsieur Martial to write a model. He suspected nothing. I told him it -was for a wedding; he did what I asked. This letter, which is now in -my possession, is the rough draft of the circular; and it was written -by the hand of the Marquis de Sairmeuse. It is impossible for him to -deny it. There is an erasure on each line. Everyone would regard it as -the handiwork of a man who was seeking to convey his real meaning in -ambiguous phrases." - -Chanlouineau opened the envelope and showed her the famous letter -which he had dictated, and in which the space for the date of the -insurrection was left blank. - -"My dear friend, we are at last agreed, and the marriage is decided, -etc." - -The light that had sparkled in Marie-Anne's eye was suddenly -extinguished. - -"And you believe that this letter can be of any service?" she -inquired, in evident discouragement. - -"I do not believe it!" - -"But----" - -With a gesture, he interrupted her. - -"We must not lose time in discussion--listen to me. Of itself, this -letter might be unimportant, but I have arranged matters in such a way -that it will produce a powerful effect. I declared before the -commission that the Marquis de Sairmeuse was one of the leaders of the -movement. They laughed; and I read incredulity on the faces of the -judges. But calumny is never without its effect. When the Duc de -Sairmeuse is about to receive a reward for his services, there will be -enemies in plenty to remember and to repeat my words. He knew this so -well that he was greatly agitated, even while his colleagues sneered -at my accusation." - -"To accuse a man falsely is a great crime," murmured the honest Marie- -Anne. - -"Yes, but I wish to save my friend, and I cannot choose my means. I -was all the more sure of success as I knew that the marquis had been -wounded. I declared that he was fighting against the troops by my -side; I demanded that he should be summoned before the tribunal; I -told them that I had in my possession unquestionable proofs of his -complicity." - -"Did you say that the Marquis de Sairmeuse had been wounded?" inquired -Marie-Anne. - -Chanlouineau's face betrayed the most intense astonishment. - -"What!" he exclaimed, "you do not know----" - -Then after an instant's reflection: - -"Fool that I am!" he resumed. "Who could have told you what had -happened? You remember that when we were travelling over the Sairmeuse -road on our way to the Croix d'Arcy, and after your father had left us -to ride on in advance, Maurice placed himself at the head of one -division, and you walked beside him, while your brother Jean and -myself stayed behind to urge on the laggards. We were performing our -duty conscientiously when suddenly we heard the gallop of a horse -behind us. 'We must know who is coming,' Jean said to me. - -"We paused. The horse soon reached us; we caught the bridle and held -him. Can you guess who the rider was? Martial de Sairmeuse. - -"To describe your brother's fury on recognizing the marquis would be -impossible. - -"'At last I find you, wretched noble!' he exclaimed, 'and now we will -settle our account! After reducing my father, who has just given you a -fortune, to despair and penury, you have tried to degrade my sister. I -will have my revenge! Down, we must fight!'" - -Marie-Anne could scarcely tell whether she was awake or dreaming. - -"My brother," she murmured, "has challenged the marquis! Is it -possible?" - -"Brave as Monsieur Martial is," pursued Chanlouineau, "he did not seem -inclined to accept the invitation. He stammered out something like -this: 'You are mad--you are jesting--have we not always been friends? -What does this mean?' - -"Jean ground his teeth in rage. 'This means that we have endured your -insulting familiarity long enough,' he replied, 'and if you do not -dismount and meet me in open combat, I will blow your brains out!' - -"Your brother, as he spoke, manipulated his pistol in so threatening a -manner that the marquis dismounted, and addressing me: - -"'You see, Chanlouineau,' he said, 'I must fight a duel or submit to -assassination. If Jean kills me there is no more to be said--but if I -kill him, what is to be done?' - -"I told him he would be free to depart on condition he would give me -his word not to return to Montaignac before two o'clock. - -"'Then I accept the challenge,' said he; 'give me a weapon.' - -"I gave him my sword, your brother drew his, and they took their -places in the middle of the highway." - -The young farmer paused to take breath, then said, more slowly: - -"Marie-Anne, your father and I have misjudged your brother. Poor -Jean's appearance is terribly against him. His face indicates a -treacherous, cowardly nature, his smile is cunning, and his eyes -always shun yours. We have distrusted him, but we should ask his -pardon. A man who fights as I saw him fight, is deserving of -confidence. For this combat in the public road, and in the darkness of -the night, was terrible. They attacked each other silently but -furiously. At last Jean fell." - -"Ah! my brother is dead!" exclaimed Marie-Anne. - -"No," responded Chanlouineau; "at least we have reason to hope not; -and I know he has not lacked any attention. This duel had another -witness, a man named Poignot, whom you must remember; he was one of -your father's tenants. He took Jean, promising me that he would -conceal him and care for him. - -"As for the marquis, he showed me that he too was wounded, and then he -remounted his horse, saying: - -"'What could I do? He would have it so.'" - -Marie-Anne understood now. - -"Give me the letter," she said to Chanlouineau, "I will go to the -duke. I will find some way to reach him, and then God will tell me -what course to pursue." - -The noble peasant handed the girl the tiny scrap of paper which might -have been his own salvation. - -"On no account," said he, "must you allow the duke to suppose that you -have upon your person the proof with which you threaten him. Who knows -of what he might be capable under such circumstances? He will say, at -first, that he can do nothing--that he sees no way to save the baron. -You will tell him that he must find a means, if he does not wish this -letter sent to Paris, to one of his enemies----" - -He paused; he heard the grating of the bolt. Corporal Bavois -reappeared. - -"The half hour expired ten minutes ago," he said, sadly. "I have my -orders." - -"Coming," said Chanlouineau; "all is ended!" - -And handing Marie-Anne the second letter: - -"This is for you," he added. "You will read it when I am no more. -Pray, pray, do not weep thus! Be brave! You will soon be the wife of -Maurice. And when you are happy, think sometimes of the poor peasant -who loved you so much." - -Marie-Anne could not utter a word, but she lifted her face to his. - -"Ah! I dared not ask it!" he exclaimed. - -And for the first time he clasped her in his arms and pressed his lips -to her pallid cheek. - -"Now adieu," he said once more. "Do not lose a moment. Adieu!" - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -The prospect of capturing Lacheneur, the chief conspirator, excited -the Marquis de Courtornieu so much that he had not been able to tear -himself away from the citadel to return home to his dinner. - -Remaining near the entrance of the dark corridor leading to -Chanlouineau's cell, he watched Marie-Anne depart; but as he saw her -go out into the twilight with a quick, alert step, he felt a sudden -doubt of Chanlouineau's sincerity. - -"Can it be that this miserable peasant has deceived me?" he thought. - -So strong was this suspicion that he hastened after her, determined to -question her--to ascertain the truth--to arrest her, if necessary. - -But he no longer possessed the agility of youth, and when he reached -the gateway the guard told him that Mlle. Lacheneur had already passed -out. He rushed out after her, looked about on every side, but could -see no trace of her. He re-entered the citadel, furious with himself -for his own credulity. - -"Still, I can visit Chanlouineau," thought he, "and to-morrow will be -time enough to summon this creature and question her." - -"This creature" was even then hastening up the long, ill-paved street -that led to the Hotel de France. - -Regardless of self, and of the curious gaze of a few passers-by, she -ran on, thinking only of shortening the terrible anxiety which her -friends at the hotel must be enduring. - -"All is not lost!" she exclaimed, on re-entering the room. - -"My God, Thou hast heard my prayers!" murmured the baroness. - -Then, suddenly seized by a horrible dread, she added: - -"Do not attempt to deceive me. Are you not trying to delude me with -false hopes? That would be cruel!" - -"I am not deceiving you, Madame, Chanlouineau has given me a weapon, -which, /I/ hope and believe, places the Duc de Sairmeuse in our power. -He is omnipotent in Montaignac; the only man who could oppose him, -Monsieur de Courtornieu, is his friend. I believe that Monsieur -d'Escorval can be saved." - -"Speak!" cried Maurice; "what must we do?" - -"Pray and wait, Maurice. I must act alone in this matter, but be -assured that I--the cause of all your misfortune--will leave nothing -undone which is possible for mortal to do." - -Absorbed in the task which she had imposed upon herself, Marie-Anne -had failed to remark a stranger who had arrived during her absence--an -old white-haired peasant. - -The abbe called her attention to him. - -"Here is a courageous friend," said he, "who since morning, has been -searching for you everywhere, in, order to give you news of your -father." - -Marie-Anne was so overcome that she could scarcely falter her -gratitude. - -"Oh, you need not thank me," answered the brave peasant. "I said to -myself: 'The poor girl must be terribly anxious. I ought to relieve -her of her misery.' So I came to tell you that Monsieur Lacheneur is -safe and well, except for a wound in the leg, which causes him -considerable suffering, but which will be healed in two or three -weeks. My son-in-law, who was hunting yesterday in the mountains, met -him near the frontier in company with two of his friends. By this time -he must be in Piedmont, beyond the reach of the gendarmes." - -"Let us hope now," said the abbe, "that we shall soon hear what has -become of Jean." - -"I know, already, Monsieur," responded Marie-Anne; "my brother has -been badly wounded, and he is now under the protection of kind -friends." - -She bowed her head, almost crushed beneath her burden of sorrow, but -soon rallying, she exclaimed: - -"What am I doing! What right have I to think of my friends, when upon -my promptness and upon my courage depends the life of an innocent man -compromised by them?" - -Maurice, the abbe, and the officers surrounded the brave young girl. -They wished to know what she was about to attempt, and to dissuade her -from incurring useless danger. - -She refused to reply to their pressing questions. They wished to -accompany her, or, at least, to follow her at a distance, but she -declared that she must go alone. - -"I will return in less than two hours, and then we can decide what -must be done," said she, as she hastened away. - -To obtain an audience with the Duc de Sairmeuse was certainly a -difficult matter; Maurice and the abbe had proved that only too well -the previous day. Besieged by weeping and heart-broken families, he -shut himself up securely, fearing, perhaps, that he might be moved by -their entreaties. - -Marie-Anne knew this, but it did not alarm her. Chanlouineau had given -her a word, the same which he had used; and this word was a key which -would unlock the most firmly and obstinately locked doors. - -In the vestibule of the house occupied by the Duc de Sairmeuse, three -or four valets stood talking. - -"I am the daughter of Monsieur Lacheneur," said Marie-Anne, addressing -one of them. "I must speak to the duke at once, on matters connected -with the revolt." - -"The duke is absent." - -"I came to make a revelation." - -The servant's manner suddenly changed. - -"In that case follow me, Mademoiselle." - -She followed him up the stairs and through two or three rooms. At last -he opened a door, saying, "enter." She went in. - -It was not the Duc de Sairmeuse who was in the room, but his son, -Martial. - -Stretched upon a sofa, he was reading a paper by the light of a large -candelabra. - -On seeing Marie-Anne he sprang up, as pale and agitated as if the door -had given passage to a spectre. - -"You!" he stammered. - -But he quickly mastered his emotion, and in a second his quick mind -revolved all the possibilities that might have produced this visit: - -"Lacheneur has been arrested!" he exclaimed, "and you, wishing to save -him from the fate which the military commission will pronounce upon -him, have thought of me. Thank you, dearest Marie-Anne, thank you for -your confidence. I will not abuse it. Let your heart be reassured. We -will save your father, I promise you--I swear it. How, I do not yet -know. But what does that matter? It is enough that he shall be saved. -I will have it so!" - -His voice betrayed the intense passion and joy that was surging in his -heart. - -"My father has not been arrested," said Marie-Anne, coldly. - -"Then," said Martial, with some hesitation, "then it is Jean who is a -prisoner." - -"My brother is in safety. If he survives his wounds he will escape all -attempts at capture." - -From white the Marquis de Sairmeuse had turned as red as fire. By -Marie-Anne's manner he saw that she knew of the duel. He made no -attempt to deny it; but he tried to excuse himself. - -"It was Jean who challenged me," said he; "I tried to avoid it. I only -defended my own life in fair combat, and with equal weapons----" - -Marie-Anne interrupted him. - -"I reproach you for nothing, Monsieur le Marquis," she said, quietly. - -"Ah! Marie-Anne, I am more severe than you. Jean was right to -challenge me. I deserved his anger. He knew the baseness of which I -had been guilty; but you--you were ignorant of it. Oh! Marie-Anne, if -I wronged you in thought it was because I did not know you. Now I know -that you, above all others, are pure and chaste." - -He tried to take her hands; she repulsed him with horror; and broke -into a fit of passionate sobbing. - -Of all the blows she had received this last was most terrible and -overwhelming. - -What humiliation and shame--! Now, indeed, was her cup of sorrow -filled to overflowing. "Chaste and pure!" he had said. Oh, bitter -mockery! - -But Martial misunderstood the meaning of the poor girl's gesture. - -"Oh! I comprehend your indignation," he resumed, with growing -eagerness. "But if I have injured you even in thought, I now offer you -reparation. I have been a fool--a miserable fool--for I love you; I -love, and can love you only. I am the Marquis de Sairmeuse. I am the -possessor of millions. I entreat you, I implore you to be my wife." - -Marie-Anne listened in utter bewilderment. Vertigo seized her; even -reason seemed to totter upon its throne. - -But now, it had been Chanlouineau who, in his prison-cell, cried that -he died for love of her. Now, it was Martial who avowed his -willingness to sacrifice his ambition and his future for her sake. - -And the poor peasant condemned to death, and the son of the all- -powerful Duc de Sairmeuse, had avowed their passion in almost the very -same words. - -Martial paused, awaiting some response--a word, a gesture. But Marie- -Anne remained mute, motionless, frozen. - -"You are silent," he cried, with increased vehemence. "Do you question -my sincerity? No, it is impossible! Then why this silence? Do you fear -my father's opposition? You need not. I know how to gain his consent. -Besides, what does his approbation matter to us? Have we any need of -him? Am I not my own master? Am I not rich--immensely rich? I should -be a miserable fool, a coward, if I hesitated between his stupid -prejudices and the happiness of my life." - -He was evidently obliging himself to weigh all the possible -objections, in order to answer them and overrule them. - -"Is it on account of your family that you hesitate?" he continued. -"Your father and brother are pursued, and France is closed against -them. Very well, we will leave France, and they shall come and live -near you. Jean will no longer dislike me when you are my wife. We will -all live in England or in Italy. Now I am grateful for the fortune -that will enable me to make life a continual enchantment for you. I -love you--and in the happiness and tender love which shall be yours in -the future, I will compel you to forget all the bitterness of the -past!" - -Marie-Anne knew the Marquis de Sairmeuse well enough to understand the -intensity of the love revealed by these astounding propositions. - -And for that very reason she hesitated to tell him that he had won -this triumph over his pride in vain. - -She was anxiously wondering to what extremity his wounded vanity would -carry him, and if a refusal would not transform him into a bitter -enemy. - -"Why do you not answer?" asked Martial, with evident anxiety. - -She felt that she must reply, that she must speak, say something; but -she could not unclose her lips. - -"I am only a poor girl, Monsieur le Marquis," she murmured, at last. -"If I accepted your offer, you would regret it continually." - -"Never!" - -"But you are no longer free. You have already plighted your troth. -Mademoiselle Blanche de Courtornieu is your promised wife." - -"Ah! say one word--only one--and this engagement, which I detest, is -broken." - -She was silent. It was evident that her mind was fully made up, and -that she refused his offer. - -"Do you hate me, then?" asked Martial, sadly. - -If she had allowed herself to tell the whole truth Marie-Anne would -have answered "Yes." The Marquis de Sairmeuse did inspire her with an -almost insurmountable aversion. - -"I no more belong to myself than you belong to yourself, Monsieur," -she faltered. - -A gleam of hatred, quickly extinguished, shone in Martial's eye. - -"Always Maurice!" said he. - -"Always." - -She expected an angry outburst, but he remained perfectly calm. - -"Then," said he, with a forced smile, "I must believe this and other -evidence. I must believe that you have forced me to play a most -ridiculous part. Until now I doubted it." - -The poor girl bowed her head, crimsoning with shame to the roots of -her hair; but she made no attempt at denial. - -"/I/ was not my own mistress," she stammered; "my father commanded and -threatened, and I--I obeyed him." - -"That matters little," he interrupted; "your role has not been that -which a pure young girl should play." - -It was the only reproach he had uttered, and still he regretted it, -perhaps because he did not wish her to know how deeply he was wounded, -perhaps because--as he afterward declared--he could not overcome his -love for Marie-Anne. - -"Now," he resumed, "I understand your presence here. You come to ask -mercy for Monsieur d'Escorval." - -"Not mercy, but justice. The baron is innocent." - -Martial approached Marie-Anne, and lowering his voice: - -"If the father is innocent," he whispered, "then it is the son who is -guilty." - -She recoiled in terror. He knew the secret which the judges could not, -or would not penetrate. - -But seeing her anguish, he had pity. - -"Another reason," said he, "for attempting to save the baron! His -blood shed upon the guillotine would form an impassable gulf between -Maurice and you. I will join my efforts to yours." - -Blushing and embarrassed, Marie-Anne dared not thank him. How was she -about to reward his generosity? By vilely traducing him. Ah! she would -infinitely have preferred to see him angry and revengeful. - -Just then a valet opened the door, and the Duc de Sairmeuse, still in -full uniform, entered. - -"Upon my word!" he exclaimed, as he crossed the threshold, "I must -confess that Chupin is an admirable hunter. Thanks to him----" - -He paused abruptly; he had not perceived Marie-Anne until now. - -"The daughter of that scoundrel Lacheneur!" said he, with an air of -the utmost surprise. "What does she desire here?" - -The decisive moment had come--the life of the baron hung upon Marie- -Anne's courage and address. The consciousness of the terrible -responsibility devolving upon her restored her self-control and -calmness as if by magic. - -"I have a revelation to sell to you, Monsieur," she said, resolutely. - -The duke regarded her with mingled wonder and curiosity; then, -laughing heartily, he threw himself upon a sofa, exclaiming: - -"Sell it, my pretty one--sell it!" - -"I cannot speak until I am alone with you." - -At a sign from his father, Martial left the room. - -"You can speak now," said the duke. - -She did not lose a second. - -"You must have read, Monsieur," she began, "the circular convening the -conspirators." - -"Certainly; I have a dozen copies in my pocket." - -"By whom do you suppose it was written?" - -"By the elder d'Escorval, or by your father." - -"You are mistaken, Monsieur; that letter was the work of the Marquis -de Sairmeuse, your son." - -The duke sprang up, fire flashing from his eyes, his face purple with -anger. - -"Zounds! girl! I advise you to bridle your tongue!" - -"The proof of what I have asserted exists." - -"Silence, you hussy, or----" - -"The lady who sends me here, Monsieur, possesses the original of this -circular written by the hand of Monsieur Martial, and I am obliged to -tell you----" - -She did not have an opportunity to complete the sentence. The duke -sprang to the door, and, in a voice of thunder, called his son. - -As soon as Martial entered the room: - -"Repeat," said the duke--"repeat before my son what you have just said -to me." - -Boldly, with head erect, and clear, firm voice, Marie-Anne repeated -her accusation. - -She expected, on the part of the marquis, an indignant denial, cruel -reproaches, or an angry explanation. Not a word. He listened with a -nonchalant air, and she almost believed she could read in his eyes an -encouragement to proceed, and a promise of protection. - -When she had concluded: - -"Well!" demanded the duke, imperiously. - -"First," replied Martial, lightly, "I would like to see this famous -circular." - -The duke handed him a copy. - -"Here--read it." - -Martial glanced over it, laughed heartily, and exclaimed: - -"A clever trick." - -"What do you say?" - -"I say that this Chanlouineau is a sly rascal. Who the devil would -have thought the fellow so cunning to see his honest face? Another -lesson to teach one not to trust to appearances." - -In all his life the Duc de Sairmeuse had never received so severe a -shock. - -"Chanlouineau was not lying, then," he said to his son, in a choked, -unnatural voice; "you /were/ one of the instigators of this rebellion, -then?" - -Martial's face grew dark, and in a tone of disdainful hauteur, he -replied: - -"This is the fourth time, sir, that you have addressed that question -to me, and for the fourth time I answer: 'No.' That should suffice. If -the fancy had seized me for taking part in this movement, I should -frankly confess it. What possible reason could I have for concealing -anything from you?" - -"The facts!" interrupted the duke, in a frenzy of passion; "the -facts!" - -"Very well," rejoined Martial, in his usual indifferent tone; "the -fact is that the model of this circular does exist, that it was -written in my best hand on a very large sheet of very poor paper. I -recollect that in trying to find appropriate expressions I erased and -rewrote several words. Did I date this writing? I think I did, but I -could not swear to it." - -"How do you reconcile this with your denials?" exclaimed M. de -Sairmeuse. - -"I can do this easily. Did I not tell you just now that Chanlouineau -had made a tool of me?" - -The duke no longer knew what to believe; but what exasperated him more -than all else was his son's imperturbable tranquillity. - -"Confess, rather, that you have been led into this filth by your -mistress," he retorted, pointing to Marie-Anne. - -But this insult Martial would not tolerate. - -"Mademoiselle Lacheneur is not my mistress," he replied, in a tone so -imperious that it was a menace. "It is true, however, that it rests -only with her to decide whether she will be the Marquise de Sairmeuse -tomorrow. Let us abandon these recriminations, they do not further the -progress of our business." - -The faint glimmer of reason which still lighted M. de Sairmeuse's -mind, checked the still more insulting reply that rose to his lips. -Trembling with suppressed rage, he made the circuit of the room -several times, and finally paused before Marie-Anne, who remained in -the same place, as motionless as a statue. - -"Come, my good girl," said he, "give me the writing." - -"It is not in my possession, sir." - -"Where is it?" - -"In the hands of a person who will give it to you only under certain -conditions." - -"Who is this person?" - -"I am not at liberty to tell you." - -There was both admiration and jealousy in the look that Martial fixed -upon Marie-Anne. - -He was amazed by her coolness and presence of mind. Ah! how powerful -must be the passion that imparted such a ringing clearness to her -voice, such brilliancy to her eyes, such precision to her responses. - -"And if I should not accept the--the conditions which are imposed, -what then?" asked M. de Sairmeuse. - -"In that case the writing will be utilized." - -"What do you mean by that?" - -"I mean, sir, that early to-morrow morning a trusty messenger will -start for Paris, charged with the task of submitting this document to -the eyes of certain persons who are not exactly friends of yours. He -will show it to Monsieur Laine, for example--or to the Duc de -Richelieu; and he will, of course, explain to them its significance -and its value. Will this writing prove the complicity of the Marquis -de Sairmeuse? Yes, or no? Have you, or have you not, dared to try and -to condemn to death the unfortunate men who were only the tools of -your son?" - -"Ah, wretch! hussy! viper!" interrupted the duke. He was beside -himself. A foam gathered upon his lips, his eyes seemed starting from -their sockets; he was no longer conscious of what he was saying. - -"This," he exclaimed, with wild gestures, "is enough to appall me! -Yes, I have bitter enemies, envious rivals who would give their right -hand for this execrable letter. Ah! if they obtain it they will demand -an investigation, and then farewell to the rewards due to my services. - -"It will be shouted from the house-tops that Chanlouineau, in the -presence of the tribunal, declared you, Marquis, his leader and his -accomplice. You will be obliged to submit to the scrutiny of -physicians, who, seeing a freshly healed wound, will require you to -tell where you received it, and why you concealed it. - -"Of what shall I /not/ be accused? They will say that I expedited -matters in order to silence the voice that had been raised against my -son. Perhaps they will even say that I secretly favored the -insurrection; I shall be vilified in the journals. - -"And who has thus ruined the fortunes of our house, that promised so -brilliantly? You, you alone, Marquis. - -"You believe in nothing, you doubt everything--you are cold, -sceptical, disdainful, /blase/. But a pretty woman makes her -appearance on the scene. You go wild like a school-boy and are ready -to commit any act of folly. It is you who I am addressing, Marquis. Do -you hear me? Speak! what have you to say?" - -Martial had listened to this tirade with unconcealed scorn, and -without even attempting to interrupt it. - -Now he responded, slowly: - -"I think, sir, if Mademoiselle Lacheneur /had/ any doubts of the value -of the document she possesses, she has them no longer." - -This response fell upon the duke's wrath like a bucket of ice-water. -He instantly comprehended his folly; and frightened by his own words, -he stood stupefied with astonishment. - -Without deigning to add another word, the marquis turned to Marie- -Anne. - -"Will you be so kind as to explain what is required of my father in -exchange for this letter?" - -"The life and liberty of Monsieur d'Escorval." - -The duke started as if he had received an electric shock. - -"Ah!" he exclaimed. "I knew they would ask something that was -impossible!" - -He sank back in his arm-chair. A profound despair succeeded his -frenzy. He buried his face in his hands, evidently seeking some -expedient. - -"Why did you not come to me before judgment was pronounced?" he -murmured. "Then I could have done anything--now, my hands are bound. -The commission has spoken; the judgment must be executed----" - -He rose, and in the tone of a man who is resigned to anything, he -said: - -"Decidedly. I should risk more in attempting to save the baron"--in -his anxiety he gave M. d'Escorval his title--"a thousand times more -than I have to fear from my enemies. So, Mademoiselle"--he no longer -said "my good girl"--"you can utilize your document." - -The duke was about leaving the room, but Martial detained him by a -gesture. - -"Think again before you decide. Our situation is not without a -precedent. A few months ago the Count de Lavalette was condemned to -death. The King wished to pardon him, but his ministers and friends -opposed it. Though the King was master, what did he do? He seemed to -be deaf to all the supplications made in the prisoner's behalf. The -scaffold was erected, and yet Lavalette was saved! And no one was -compromised--yes, a jailer lost his position; he is living on his -income now." - -Marie-Anne caught eagerly at the idea so cleverly presented by -Martial. - -"Yes," she exclaimed, "the Count de Lavalette, protected by royal -connivance, succeeded in making his escape." - -The simplicity of the expedient--the authority of the example--seemed -to make a vivid impression upon the duke. He was silent for a moment, -and Marie-Anne fancied she saw an expression of relief steal over his -face. - -"Such an attempt would be very hazardous," he murmured; "yet, with -care, and if one were sure that the secret would be kept----" - -"Oh! the secret will be religiously preserved, Monsieur," interrupted -Marie-Anne. - -With a glance Martial recommended silence; then turning to his father, -he said: - -"One can always consider an expedient, and calculate the consequences ---that does not bind one. When is this sentence to be carried into -execution?" - -"To-morrow," responded the duke. - -But even this terrible response did not cause Marie-Anne any alarm. -The duke's anxiety and terror had taught her how much reason she had -to hope; and she saw that Martial had openly espoused her cause. - -"We have, then, only the night before us," resumed the marquis. -"Fortunately, it is only half-past seven, and until ten o'clock my -father can visit the citadel without exciting the slightest -suspicion." - -He paused suddenly. His eyes, in which had shone almost absolute -confidence, became gloomy. He had just discovered an unexpected and, -as it seemed to him, almost insurmountable difficulty. - -"Have we any intelligent men in the citadel?" he murmured. "The -assistance of a jailer or of a soldier is indispensable." - -He turned to his father, and brusquely asked: "Have you any man in -whom you can confide?" - -"I have three or four spies--they can be bought." - -"No! the wretch who betrays his comrade for a few sous, will betray -you for a few louis. We must have an honest man who sympathizes with -the opinions of Baron d'Escorval--an old soldier who fought under -Napoleon, if possible." - -A sudden inspiration visited Marie-Anne's mind. - -"I know the man that you require!" she cried. - -"You?" - -"Yes, I. At the citadel." - -"Take care! Remember that he must risk much. If this should be -discovered, those who take part in it will be sacrificed." - -"He of whom I speak is the man you need. I will be responsible for -him." - -"And he is a soldier?" - -"He is only an humble corporal; but the nobility of his nature -entitles him to the highest rank. Believe me, we can safely confide in -him." - -If she spoke thus, she who would willingly have given her life for the -baron's salvation, she must be absolutely certain. - -So thought Martial. - -"I will confer with this man," said he. "What is his name?" - -"He is called Bavois, and he is a corporal in the first company of -grenadiers." - -"Bavois," repeated Martial, as if to fix the name in his memory; -"Bavois. My father will find some pretext for desiring him summoned." - -"It is easy to find a pretext. He was the brave soldier left on guard -at Escorval after the troops left the house." - -"This promises well," said Martial. He had risen and gone to the -fireplace in order to be nearer his father. - -"I suppose," he continued, "the baron has been separated from the -other prisoners?" - -"Yes, he is alone, in a large and very comfortable room." - -"Where is it?" - -"On the second story of the corner tower." - -But Martial, who was not so well acquainted with the citadel as his -father, was obliged to reflect a moment. - -"The corner tower!" said he; "is not that the tall tower which one -sees from a distance, and which is built on a spot where the rock is -almost perpendicular?" - -"Precisely." - -By the promptness M. de Sairmeuse displayed in replying, it was easy -to see that he was ready to risk a good deal to effect the prisoner's -deliverance. - -"What kind of a window is that in the baron's room?" inquired Martial. - -"It is quite large and furnished with a double row of iron bars, -securely fastened into the stone walls." - -"It is easy enough to cut these bars. On which side does this window -look?" - -"On the country." - -"That is to say, it overlooks the precipice. The devil! That is a -serious difficulty, and yet, in one respect, it is an advantage, for -they station no sentinels there, do they?" - -"Never. Between the citadel wall and the edge of the precipice there -is barely standing-room. The soldiers do not venture there even in the -daytime." - -"There is one more important question. What is the distance from -Monsieur d'Escorval's window to the ground?" - -"It is about forty feet from the base of the tower." - -"Good! And from the base of the tower to the foot of the precipice-- -how far is that?" - -"Really, I scarcely know. Sixty feet, at least, I should think." - -"Ah, that is high, terribly high. The baron fortunately is still agile -and vigorous." The duke began to be impatient. - -"Now," said he to his son, "will you be so kind as to explain your -plan?" - -Martial had gradually resumed the careless tone which always -exasperated his father. - -"He is sure of success," thought Marie-Anne. - -"My plan is simplicity itself," replied Martial. "Sixty and forty are -one hundred. It is necessary to procure one hundred feet of strong -rope. It will make a very large bundle; but no matter. I will twist it -around me, envelop myself in a large cloak, and accompany you to the -citadel. You will send for Corporal Bavois; you will leave me alone -with him in a quiet place; I will explain our wishes." - -M. de Sairmeuse shrugged his shoulders. - -"And how will you procure a hundred feet of rope at this hour in -Montaignac? Will you go about from shop to shop? You might as well -trumpet your project at once." - -"I shall attempt nothing of the kind. What I cannot do the friends of -the Escorval family will do." - -The duke was about to offer some new objection when his son -interrupted him. - -"Pray do not forget the danger that threatens us," he said, earnestly, -"nor the little time that is left us. I have committed a fault, leave -me to repair it." - -And turning to Marie-Anne: - -"You may consider the baron saved," he pursued; "but it is necessary -for me to confer with one of his friends. Return at once to the Hotel -de France and tell the cure to meet me on the Place d'Armes, where I -go to await him." - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -Though among the first to be arrested at the time of the panic before -Montaignac, the Baron d'Escorval had not for an instant deluded -himself with false hopes. - -"I am a lost man," he thought. And confronting death calmly, he now -thought only of the danger that threatened his son. - -His mistake before the judges was the result of his preoccupation. - -He did not breathe freely until he saw Maurice led from the hall by -Abbe Midon and the friendly officers, for he knew that his son would -try to confess connection with the affair. - -Then, calm and composed, with head erect, and steadfast eye, he -listened to the death-sentence. - -In the confusion that ensued in removing the prisoners from the hall, -the baron found himself beside Chanlouineau, who had begun his noisy -lamentations. - -"Courage, my boy," he said, indignant at such apparent cowardice. - -"Ah! it is easy to talk," whined the young farmer. - -Then seeing that no one was observing them, he leaned toward the -baron, and whispered: - -"It is for you I am working. Save all your strength for to-night." - -Chanlouineau's words and burning glance surprised M. d'Escorval, but -he attributed both to fear. When the guards took him back to his cell, -he threw himself upon his pallet, and before him rose that vision of -the last hour, which is at once the hope and despair of those who are -about to die. - -He knew the terrible laws that govern a court-martial. The next day-- -in a few hours--at dawn, perhaps, they would take him from his cell, -place him in front of a squad of soldiers, an officer would lift his -sword, and all would be over. - -Then what was to become of his wife and his son? - -His agony on thinking of these dear ones was terrible. He was alone; -he wept. - -But suddenly he started up, ashamed of his weakness. He must not allow -these thoughts to unnerve him. He was determined to meet death -unflinchingly. Resolved to shake off the profound melancholy that was -creeping over him, he walked about his cell, forcing his mind to -occupy itself with material objects. - -The room which had been allotted to him was very large. It had once -communicated with the apartment adjoining; but the door had been -walled up for a long time. The cement which held the large blocks of -stone together had crumbled away, leaving crevices through which one -might look from one room into the other. - -M. d'Escorval mechanically applied his eye to one of these -interstices. Perhaps he had a friend for a neighbor, some wretched man -who was to share his fate. He saw no one. He called, first in a -whisper, then louder. No voice responded to his. - -"If /I/ could only tear down this thin partition," he thought. - -He trembled, then shrugged his shoulders. And if he did, what then? He -would only find himself in another apartment similar to his own, and -opening like his upon a corridor full of guards, whose monotonous -tramp he could plainly hear as they passed to and fro. - -What folly to think of escape! He knew that every possible precaution -must have been taken to guard against it. - -Yes, he knew this, and yet he could not refrain from examining his -window. Two rows of iron bars protected it. These were placed in such -a way that it was impossible for him to put out his head and see how -far he was above the ground. The height, however, must be -considerable, judging from the extent of the view. - -The sun was setting; and through the violet haze the baron could -discern an undulating line of hills, whose culminating point must be -the land of the Reche. - -The dark masses of foliage that he saw on the right were probably the -forests of Sairmeuse. On the left, he divined rather than saw, -nestling between the hills, the valley of the Oiselle and Escorval. - -Escorval, that lovely retreat where he had known such happiness, where -he had hoped to die the calm and serene death of the just. - -And remembering his past felicity, and thinking of his vanished -dreams, his eyes once more filled with tears. But he quickly dried -them on hearing the door of his cell open. - -Two soldiers appeared. - -One of the men bore a torch, the other, one of those long baskets -divided into compartments which are used in carrying meals to the -officers on guard. - -These men were evidently deeply moved, and yet, obeying a sentiment of -instinctive delicacy, they affected a sort of gayety. - -"Here is your dinner, Monsieur," said one soldier; "it ought to be -very good, for it comes from the cuisine of the commander of the -citadel." - -M. d'Escorval smiled sadly. Some attentions on the part of one's -jailer have a sinister significance. Still, when he seated himself -before the little table which they prepared for him, he found that he -was really hungry. - -He ate with a relish, and chatted quite cheerfully with the soldiers. - -"Always hope for the best, sir," said one of these worthy fellows. -"Who knows? Stranger things have happened!" - -When the baron finished his repast, he asked for pen, ink, and paper. -They brought what he desired. - -He found himself again alone; but his conversation with the soldiers -had been of service to him. His weakness had passed; his /sang-froid/ -had returned; he would now reflect. - -He was surprised that he had heard nothing from Mme. d'Escorval and -from Maurice. - -Could it be that they had been refused access to the prison? No, they -could not be; he could not imagine that there existed men sufficiently -cruel to prevent a doomed man from pressing to his heart, in a last -embrace, his wife and his son. - -Yet, how was it that neither the baroness nor Maurice had made an -attempt to see him! Something must have prevented them from doing so. -What could it be? - -He imagined the worst misfortunes. He saw his wife writhing in agony, -perhaps dead. He pictured Maurice, wild with grief, upon his knees at -the bedside of his mother. - -But they might come yet. He consulted his watch. It marked the hour of -seven. - -But he waited in vain. No one came. - -He took up his pen, and was about to write, when he heard a bustle in -the corridor outside. The clink of spurs resounded on the flags; he -heard the sharp clink of the rifle as the guard presented arms. - -Trembling, the baron sprang up, saying: - -"They have come at last!" - -He was mistaken; the footsteps died away in the distance. - -"A round of inspection!" he murmured. - -But at the same moment, two objects thrown through the tiny opening in -the door of his cell fell on the floor in the middle of the room. - -M. d'Escorval caught them up. Someone had thrown him two files. - -His first feeling was one of distrust. He knew that there were jailers -who left no means untried to dishonor their prisoners before -delivering them to the executioner. - -Was it a friend, or an enemy, that had given him these instruments of -deliverance and of liberty. - -Chanlouineau's words and the look that accompanied them recurred to -his mind, perplexing him still more. - -He was standing with knitted brows, turning and returning the fine and -well-tempered files in his hands, when he suddenly perceived upon the -floor a tiny scrap of paper which had, at first, escaped his notice. - -He snatched it up, unfolded it, and read: - - - "Your friends are at work. Everything is prepared for your escape. - Make haste and saw the bars of your window. Maurice and his mother - embrace you. Hope, courage!" - - -Beneath these few lines was the letter M. - -But the baron did not need this initial to be reassured. He had -recognized Abbe Midon's handwriting. - -"Ah! he is a true friend," he murmured. - -Then the recollection of his doubts and despair arose in his mind. - -"This explains why neither my wife nor son came to visit me," he -thought. "And I doubted their energy--and I was complaining of their -neglect!" - -Intense joy filled his breast; he raised the letter that promised him -life and liberty to his lips, and enthusiastically exclaimed: - -"To work! to work!" - -He had chosen the finest of the two files, and was about to attack the -ponderous bars, when he fancied he heard someone open the door of the -next room. - -Someone had opened it, certainly. The person closed it again, but did -not lock it. - -Then the baron heard someone moving cautiously about. What did all -this mean? Were they incarcerating some new prisoner, or were they -stationing a spy there? - -Listening breathlessly, the baron heard a singular sound, whose cause -it was absolutely impossible to explain. - -Noiselessly he advanced to the former communicating door, knelt, and -peered through one of the interstices. - -The sight that met his eyes amazed him. - -A man was standing in a corner of the room. The baron could see the -lower part of the man's body by the light of a large lantern which he -had deposited on the floor at his feet. He was turning around and -around very quickly, by this movement unwinding a long rope which had -been twined around his body as thread is wound about a bobbin. - -M. d'Escorval rubbed his eyes as if to assure himself that he was not -dreaming. Evidently this rope was intended for him. It was to be -attached to the broken bars. - -But how had this man succeeded in gaining admission to this room? Who -could it be that enjoyed such liberty in the prison? He was not a -soldier--or, at least, he did not wear a uniform. - -Unfortunately, the highest crevice was in such a place that the visual -ray did not strike the upper part of the man's body; and, despite the -baron's efforts, he was unable to see the face of this friend--he -judged him to be such--whose boldness verged on folly. - -Unable to resist his intense curiosity, M. d'Escorval was on the point -of rapping on the wall to question him, when the door of the room -occupied by this man, whom the baron already called his saviour, was -impetuously thrown open. - -Another man entered, whose face was also outside the baron's range of -vision; and the new-comer, in a tone of astonishment, exclaimed: - -"Good heavens! what are you doing?" - -The baron drew back in despair. - -"All is discovered!" he thought. - -The man whom M. d'Escorval believed to be his friend did not pause in -his labor of unwinding the rope, and it was in the most tranquil voice -that he responded: - -"As you see, I am freeing myself from this burden of rope, which I -find extremely uncomfortable. There are at least sixty yards of it, I -should think--and what a bundle it makes! I feared they would discover -it under my cloak." - -"And what are you going to do with all this rope?" inquired the new- -comer. - -"I am going to hand it to Baron d'Escorval, to whom I have already -given a file. He must make his escape to-night." - -So improbable was this scene that the baron could not believe his own -ears. - -"I cannot be awake; I must be dreaming," he thought. - -The new-comer uttered a terrible oath, and, in an almost threatening -tone, he said: - -"We will see about that! If you have gone mad, I, thank God! still -possess my reason! I will not permit----" - -"Pardon!" interrupted the other, coldly, "you will permit it. This is -merely the result of your own--credulity. When Chanlouineau asked you -to allow him to receive a visit from Mademoiselle Lacheneur, that was -the time you should have said: 'I will not permit it.' Do you know -what the fellow desired? Simply to give Mademoiselle Lacheneur a -letter of mine, so compromising in its natures that if it ever reaches -the hands of a certain person of my acquaintance, my father and I will -be obliged to reside in London in future. Then farewell to the -projects for an alliance between our two families!" - -The new-comer heaved a mighty sigh, accompanied by a half-angry, half- -sorrowful exclamation; but the other, without giving him any -opportunity to reply, resumed: - -"You, yourself, Marquis, would doubtless be compromised. Were you not -a chamberlain during the reign of Bonaparte? Ah, Marquis! how could a -man of your experience, a man so subtle, and penetrating, and acute, -allow himself to be duped by a low, ignorant peasant?" - -Now M. d'Escorval understood. He was not dreaming; it was the Marquis -de Courtornieu and Martial de Sairmeuse who were talking on the other -side of the wall. - -This poor M. de Courtornieu had been so entirely crushed by Martial's -revelation that he no longer made any effort to oppose him. - -"And this terrible letter?" he groaned. - -"Marie-Anne Lacheneur gave it to Abbe Midon, who came to me and said: -'Either the baron will escape, or this letter will be taken to the Duc -de Richelieu.' I voted for the baron's escape, I assure you. The abbe -procured all that was necessary; he met me at a rendezvous which I -appointed in a quiet spot; he coiled all his rope about my body, and -here I am." - -"Then you think if the baron escapes they will give you back your -letter?" - -"Most assuredly." - -"Deluded man! As soon as the baron is safe, they will demand the life -of another prisoner, with the same menaces." - -"By no means." - -"You will see." - -"I shall see nothing of the kind, for a very simple reason. I have the -letter now in my pocket. The abbe gave it to me in exchange for my -word of honor." - -M. de Courtornieu's exclamation proved that he considered the abbe an -egregious fool. - -"What!" he exclaimed. "You hold the proof, and-- But this is madness! -Burn this accursed letter by the flames of this lantern, and let the -baron go where his slumbers will be undisturbed." - -Martial's silence betrayed something like stupor. - -"What! you would do this--you?" he demanded, at last. - -"Certainly--and without the slightest hesitation." - -"Ah, well! I cannot say that I congratulate you." - -The sneer was so apparent that M. de Courtornieu was sorely tempted to -make an angry response. But he was not a man to yield to his first -impulse--this former chamberlain under the Emperor, now become a -/grand prevot/ under the Restoration. - -He reflected. Should he, on account of a sharp word, quarrel with -Martial--with the only suitor who had pleased his daughter? A rupture ---then he would be left without any prospect of a son-in-law! When -would Heaven send him such another? And how furious Mlle. Blanche -would be! - -He concluded to swallow the bitter pill; and it was with a paternal -indulgence of manner that he said: - -"You are young, my dear Martial." - -The baron was still kneeling by the partition, his ear glued to the -crevices, holding his breath in an agony of suspense. - -"You are only twenty, my dear Martial," pursued the Marquis de -Courtornieu; "you possess the ardent enthusiasm and generosity of -youth. Complete your undertaking; I shall interpose no obstacle; but -remember that all may be discovered--and then----" - -"Have no fears, sir," interrupted the young marquis; "I have taken -every precaution. Did you see a single soldier in the corridor, just -now? No. That is because my father has, at my solicitation, assembled -all the officers and guards under pretext of ordering exceptional -precautions. He is talking to them now. This gave me an opportunity to -come here unobserved. No one will see me when I go out. Who, then, -will dare suspect me of having any hand in the baron's escape?" - -"If the baron escapes, justice will demand to know who aided him." - -Martial laughed. - -"If justice seeks to know, she will find a culprit of my providing. Go -now; I have told you all. I had but one person to fear: that was -yourself. A trusty messenger requested you to join me here. You came; -you know all, you have agreed to remain neutral. I am tranquil. The -baron will be safe in Piedmont when the sun rises." - -He picked up his lantern, and added, gayly: - -"But let us go--my father cannot harangue those soldiers forever." - -"But," insisted M. de Courtornieu, "you have not told me----" - -"I will tell you all, but not here. Come, come!" - -They went out, locking the door behind them; and then the baron rose -from his knees. - -All sorts of contradictory ideas, doubts, and conjectures filled his -mind. - -What could this letter have contained? Why had not Chanlouineau used -it to procure his own salvation? Who would have believed that Martial -would be so faithful to a promise wrested from him by threats? - -But this was a time for action, not for reflection. The bars were -heavy, and there were two rows of them. - -M. d'Escorval set to work. - -He had supposed that the task would be difficult. It was a thousand -times more so than he had expected; he discovered this almost -immediately. - -It was the first time that he had ever worked with a file, and he did -not know how to use it. His progress was despairingly slow. - -Nor was that all. Though he worked as cautiously as possible, each -movement of the instrument across the iron produced a harsh, grating -sound that froze his blood with terror. What if someone should -overhear this noise? And it seemed to him impossible for it to escape -notice, since he could plainly distinguish the measured tread of the -guards, who had resumed their watch in the corridor. - -So slight was the result of his labors, that at the end of twenty -minutes he experienced a feeling of profound discouragement. - -At this rate, it would be impossible for him to sever the first bar -before daybreak, What, then, was the use of spending his time in -fruitless labor? Why mar the dignity of death by the disgrace of an -unsuccessful effort to escape? - -He was hesitating when footsteps approached his cell. He hastened to -seat himself at the table. - -The door opened and a soldier entered, to whom an officer who did not -cross the threshold remarked: - -"You have your instructions, Corporal, keep a close watch. If the -prisoner needs anything, call." - -M. de Escorval's heart throbbed almost to bursting. What was coming -now? - -Had M. de Courtornieu's counsels carried the day, or had Martial sent -someone to aid him? - -"We must not be dawdling here," said the corporal, as soon as the door -was closed. - -M. d'Escorval bounded from his chair. This man was a friend. Here was -aid and life. - -"I am Bavois," continued the corporal. "Someone said to me just now: -'A friend of the Emperor is in danger; are you willing to lend him a -helping hand?' I replied: 'Present,' and here I am!" - -This certainly was a brave soul. The baron extended his hand, and in a -voice trembling with emotion: - -"Thanks," said he; "thanks to you who, without knowing me, expose -yourself to the greatest danger for my sake." - -Bavois shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. - -"Positively, my old hide is no more precious than yours. If we do not -succeed, they will chop off our heads with the same axe. But we shall -succeed. Now, let us cease talking and proceed to business." - -As he spoke he drew from beneath his long overcoat a strong iron -crowbar and a small vial of brandy, and deposited them upon the bed. - -He then took the candle and passed it back and forth before the window -five or six times. - -"What are you doing?" inquired the baron, in suspense. - -"I am signalling to your friends that everything is progressing -favorably. They are down there waiting for us; and see, now they are -answering." - -The baron looked, and three times they saw a little flash of flame -like that produced by the burning of a pinch of gunpowder. - -"Now," said the corporal, "we are all right. Let us see what progress -you have made with the bars." - -"I have scarcely begun," murmured M. d'Escorval. - -The corporal inspected the work. - -"You may indeed say that you have made no progress," said he; "but, -never mind, I have been a locksmith, and I know how to handle a file." - -Having drawn the cork from the vial of brandy which he had brought, he -fastened the stopper to the end of one of the files, and swathed the -handle of the instrument with a piece of damp linen. - -"That is what they call putting a /stop/ on the instrument," he -remarked, by way of explanation. - -Then he made an energetic attack on the bars. It at once became -evident that he had not exaggerated his knowledge of the subject, nor -the efficacy of his precautions for deadening the sound. The harsh -grating that had so alarmed the baron was no longer heard, and Bavois, -finding he had nothing more to dread from the keenest ears, now made -preparations to shelter himself from observation. - -To cover the opening in the door would arouse suspicion at once--so -the corporal adopted another expedient. - -Moving the little table to another part of the room, he placed the -light upon it, in such a position that the window remained entirely in -shadow. - -Then he ordered the baron to sit down, and handing him a paper, said: - -"Now read aloud, without stopping for an instant, until you see me -cease work." - -By this method they might reasonably hope to deceive the guards -outside in the corridor. Some of them, indeed, did come to the door -and look in, then went away to say to their companions: - -"We have just taken a look at the prisoner. He is very pale, and his -eyes are glittering feverishly. He is reading aloud to divert his -mind. Corporal Bavois is looking out of the window. It must be dull -music for him." - -The baron's voice would also be of advantage in overpowering any -suspicious sound, should there be one. - -And while Bavois worked, M. d'Escorval read, read, read. - -He had completed the perusal of the entire paper, and was about to -begin it again, when the old soldier, leaving the window, motioned him -to stop. - -"Half the task is completed," he said, in a whisper. "The lower bars -are cut." - -"Ah! how can I ever repay you for your devotion!" murmured the baron. - -"Hush! not a word!" interrupted Bavois. "If I escape with you, I can -never return here; and I shall not know where to go, for the regiment, -you see, is my only family. Ah, well! if you will give me a home with -you, I shall be content." - -Whereupon he swallowed a big draught of brandy, and set to work with -renewed ardor. - -The corporal had cut one of the second row of bars, when he was -interrupted by M. d'Escorval, who, without discontinuing his reading, -had approached and pulled Bavois's long coat to attract his attention. - -He turned quickly. - -"What is it?" - -"I heard a singular noise." - -"Where?" - -"In the adjoining room where the ropes are." - -Honest Bavois muttered a terrible oath. - -"Do they intend to betray us? I risked my life, and they promised me -fair play." - -He placed his ear against an opening in the partition, and listened -for a long time. Nothing, not the slightest sound. - -"It must have been some rat that you heard," he said, at last. "Resume -your reading." - -And he began his work again. This was the only interruption, and a -little before four o'clock everything was ready. The bars were cut, -and the ropes, which had been drawn through an opening in the wall, -were coiled under the window. - -The decisive moment had come. Bavois took the counterpane from the -bed, fastened it over the opening in the door, and filled up the key- -hole. - -"Now," said he, in the same measured tone which he would have used in -instructing his recruits, "attention, sir, and obey the word of -command." Then he calmly explained that the escape would consist of -two distinct operations; the first in gaining the narrow platform at -the base of the tower; the second, in descending to the foot of the -precipitous rock. - -The abbe, who understood this, had brought Martial two ropes; the one -to be used in the descent of the precipice being considerably longer -than the other. - -"I will fasten the shortest rope under your arms, Monsieur, and I will -let you down to the base of the tower. When you have reached it, I -will pass you the longer rope and the crowbar. Do not miss them. If we -find ourselves without them, on that narrow ledge of rock, we shall -either be compelled to deliver ourselves up, or throw ourselves down -the precipice. I shall not be long in joining you. Are you ready?" - -M. d'Escorval lifted his arms, the rope was fastened securely about -him, and he crawled through the window. - -From there the height seemed immense. Below, in the barren fields that -surrounded the citadel, eight persons were waiting, silent, anxious, -breathless. - -They were Mme. d'Escorval and Maurice, Marie-Anne, Abbe Midon, and the -four retired army officers. - -There was no moon; but the night was very clear, and they could see -the tower quite plainly. - -Soon after four o'clock sounded they saw a dark object glide slowly -down the side of the tower--it was the baron. After a little, another -form followed very rapidly--it was Bavois. - -Half of the perilous journey was accomplished. - -From below, they could see the two figures moving about on the narrow -platform. The corporal and the baron were exerting all their strength -to fix the crowbar securely in a crevice of the rock. - -In a moment or two one of the figures stepped from the projecting rock -and glided gently down the side of the precipice. - -It could be none other than M. d'Escorval. Transported with happiness, -his wife sprang forward with open arms to receive him. - -Wretched woman! A terrific cry rent the still night air. - -M. d'Escorval was falling from a height of fifty feet; he was hurled -down to the foot of the rocky precipice. The rope had parted. - -Had it broken naturally? - -Maurice, who examined the end of it, exclaimed with horrible -imprecations of hatred and vengeance that they had been betrayed--that -their enemy had arranged to deliver only a dead body into their hands ---that the rope, in short, had been foully tampered with--cut! - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -Chupin had not taken time to sleep, nor scarcely time to drink, since -that unfortunate morning when the Duc de Sairmeuse ordered affixed to -the walls of Montaignac, that decree in which he promised twenty -thousand francs to the person who should deliver up Lacheneur, dead or -alive. - -"Twenty thousand francs," Chupin muttered gloomily; "twenty sacks with -a hundred pistoles in each! Ah! if I could discover Lacheneur; even if -he were dead and buried a hundred feet under ground, I should gain the -reward." - -The appellation of traitor, which he would receive; the shame and -condemnation that would fall upon him and his, did not make him -hesitate for a moment. - -He saw but one thing--the reward--the blood-money. - -Unfortunately, he had nothing whatever to guide him in his researches; -no clew, however vague. - -All that was known in Montaignac was that M. Lacheneur's horse was -killed at the Croix d'Arcy. - -But no one knew whether Lacheneur himself had been wounded, or whether -he had escaped from the fray uninjured. Had he reached the frontier? -or had he found an asylum in the house of one of his friends? - -Chupin was thus hungering for the price of blood, when, on the day of -the trial, as he was returning from the citadel, after making his -deposition, he entered a drinking saloon. While there he heard the -name of Lacheneur uttered in low tones near him. - -Two peasants were emptying a bottle of wine, and one of them, an old -man, was telling the other that he had come to Montaignac to give -Mlle. Lacheneur news of her father. - -He said that his son-in-law had met the chief conspirator in the -mountains which separate the /arrondissement/ of Montaignac from -Savoy. He even mentioned the exact place of meeting, which was near -Saint Pavin-des-Gottes, a tiny village of only a few houses. - -Certainly the worthy man did not think he was committing a dangerous -indiscretion. In his opinion, Lacheneur had, ere this, crossed the -frontier, and was out of danger. - -In this he was mistaken. - -The frontier bordering on Savoy was guarded by soldiers, who had -received orders to allow none of the conspirators to pass. - -The passage of the frontier, then, presented many great difficulties, -and even if a man succeeded in effecting it, he might be arrested and -imprisoned on the other side, until the formalities of extradition had -been complied with. - -Chupin saw his advantage, and instantly decided on his course. - -He knew that he had not a moment to lose. He threw a coin down upon -the counter, and without waiting for his change, rushed back to the -citadel, and asked the sergeant at the gate for pen and paper. - -The old rascal generally wrote slowly and painfully; to-day it took -him but a moment to trace these lines: - - - "I know Lacheneur's retreat, and beg monseigneur to order some - mounted soldiers to accompany me, in order to capture him. - Chupin." - - -This note was given to one of the guards, with a request to take it to -the Duc de Sairmeuse, who was presiding over the military commission. - -Five minutes later, the soldier reappeared with the same note. - -Upon the margin the duke had written an order, placing at Chupin's -disposal a lieutenant and eight men chosen from the Montaignac -chasseurs, who could be relied upon, and who were not suspected (as -were the other troops) of sympathizing with the rebels. - -Chupin also requested a horse for his own use, and this was accorded -him. The duke had just received this note when, with a triumphant air, -he abruptly entered the room where Marie-Anne and his son were -negotiating for the release of Baron d'Escorval. - -It was because he believed in the truth of the rather hazardous -assertion made by his spy that he exclaimed, upon the threshold: - -"Upon my word! it must be confessed that this Chupin is an -incomparable huntsman! Thanks to him----" - -Then he saw Mlle. Lacheneur, and suddenly checked himself. - -Unfortunately, neither Martial nor Marie-Anne were in a state of mind -to notice this remark and its interruption. - -Had he been questioned, the duke would probably have allowed the truth -to escape him, and M. Lacheneur might have been saved. - -But Lacheneur was one of those unfortunate beings who seem to be -pursued by an evil destiny which they can never escape. - -Buried beneath his horse, M. Lacheneur had lost consciousness. - -When he regained his senses, restored by the fresh morning air, the -place was silent and deserted. Not far from him, he saw two dead -bodies which had not yet been removed. - -It was a terrible moment, and in the depth of his soul he cursed -death, which had refused to heed his entreaties. Had he been armed, -doubtless, he would have ended by suicide, the most cruel mental -torture which man was ever forced to endure--but he had no weapon. - -He was obliged to accept the chastisement of life. - -Perhaps, too, the voice of honor whispered that it was cowardice to -strive to escape the responsibility of one's acts by death. - -At last, he endeavored to draw himself out from beneath the body of -his horse. - -This proved to be no easy matter, as his foot was still in the -stirrup, and his limbs were so badly cramped that he could scarcely -move them. He finally succeeded in freeing himself, however, and, on -examination, discovered that he, who it would seem ought to have been -killed ten times over, had only one hurt--a bayonet-wound in the leg, -extending from the ankle almost to the knee. - -Such a wound, of course, caused him not a little suffering, and he was -trying to bandage it with his handkerchief, when he heard the sound of -approaching footsteps. - -He had no time for reflection; he sprang into the forest that lies to -the left of the Croix d'Arcy. - -The troops were returning to Montaignac after pursuing the rebels for -more than three miles. There were about two hundred soldiers, and they -were bringing back, as prisoners, about twenty peasants. - -Hidden by a great oak scarcely fifteen paces from the road, Lacheneur -recognized several of the prisoners in the gray light of dawn. It was -only by the merest chance that he escaped discovery; and he fully -realized how difficult it would be for him to gain the frontier -without falling into the hands of the detachment of soldiery, who were -doubtless scouring the country in every direction. - -Still he did not despair. - -The mountains lay only two leagues away; and he firmly believed that -he could successfully elude his pursuers as soon as he gained the -shelter of the hills. - -He began his journey courageously. - -Alas! he had not realized how exhausted he had become from the -excessive labor and excitement of the past few days, and by the loss -of blood from his wound, which he could not stanch. - -He tore up a pole in one of the vineyards to serve as a staff, and -dragged himself along, keeping in the shelter of the woods as much as -possible, and creeping along beside the hedges and in the ditches when -he was obliged to traverse an open space. - -To the great physical suffering, and the most cruel mental anguish, -was now added an agony that momentarily increased--hunger. - -He had eaten nothing for thirty hours, and he felt terribly weak from -lack of nourishment. This torture soon became so intolerable that he -was willing to brave anything to appease it. - -At last he perceived the roofs of a tiny hamlet. He decided to enter -it and ask for food. He was on the outskirts of the village, when he -heard the rolling of a drum. Instinctively he hid behind a wall. But -it was only a town-crier beating his drum to call the people together. - -And soon a voice rose so clear and penetrating that each word it -uttered fell distinctly on Lacheneur's ears. - -It said: - -"This is to inform you that the authorities of Montaignac promise to -give a reward of twenty thousand francs--two thousand pistoles, you -understand--to him who will deliver up the man known as Lacheneur, -dead or alive. Dead or alive, you understand. If he is dead, the -compensation will be the same; twenty thousand francs! It will be paid -in gold." - -With a bound, Lacheneur had risen, wild with despair and horror. -Though he had believed himself utterly exhausted, he found superhuman -strength to flee. - -A price had been set upon his head. This frightful thought awakened in -his breast the frenzy that renders a hunted wild beast so dangerous. - -In all the villages around him he fancied he could hear the rolling of -drums, and the voice of the criers proclaiming this infamous edict. - -Go where he would now, he was a tempting bait offered to treason and -cupidity. In what human creature could he confide? Under what roof -could he ask shelter? - -And even if he were dead, he would still be worth a fortune. - -Though he died from lack of nourishment and exhaustion under a bush by -the wayside, his emaciated body would still be worth twenty thousand -francs. - -And the man who found his corpse would not give it burial. He would -place it on his cart and bear it to Montaignac. He would go to the -authorities and say: "Here is Lacheneur's body--give me the reward!" - -How long and by what paths he pursued his flight, he could not tell. - -But several hours after, as he traversed the wooded hills of Charves, -he saw two men, who sprang up and fled at his approach. In a terrible -voice, he called after them: - -"Eh! you men! do each of you desire a thousand pistoles? I am -Lacheneur." - -They paused when they recognized him, and Lacheneur saw that they were -two of his followers. They were well-to-do farmers, and it had been -very difficult to induce them to take part in the revolt. - -These men had part of a loaf of bread and a little brandy. They gave -both to the famished man. - -They sat down beside him on the grass, and while he was eating they -related their misfortunes. Their connection with the conspiracy had -been discovered; their houses were full of soldiers, who were hunting -for them, but they hoped to reach Italy by the aid of a guide who was -waiting for them at an appointed place. - -Lacheneur extended his hand to them. - -"Then I am saved," said he. "Weak and wounded as I am, I should perish -if I were left alone." - -But the two farmers did not accept the hand he offered. - -"We should leave you," said the younger man, gloomily, "for you are -the cause of our misfortunes. You deceived us, Monsieur Lacheneur." - -He dared not protest, so just was the reproach. - -"Nonsense! let him come all the same," said the other, with a peculiar -glance at his companion. - -So they walked on, and that same evening, after nine hours of -travelling on the mountains, they crossed the frontier. - -But this long journey was not made without bitter reproaches, and even -more bitter recriminations. - -Closely questioned by his companions, Lacheneur, exhausted both in -mind and body, finally admitted the insincerity of the promises with -which he had inflamed the zeal of his followers. He acknowledged that -he had spread the report that Marie-Louise and the young King of Rome -were concealed in Montaignac, and that this report was a gross -falsehood. He confessed that he had given the signal for the revolt -without any chance of success, and without means of action, leaving -everything to chance. In short, he confessed that nothing was real -save his hatred, his implacable hatred of the Sairmeuse family. - -A dozen times, at least, during this terrible avowal, the peasants who -accompanied him were on the point of hurling him down the precipices -upon whose verge they were walking. - -"So it was to gratify his own spite," they thought, quivering with -rage, "that he sets everybody to fighting and killing one another-- -that he ruins us, and drives us into exile. We will see." - -The fugitives went to the nearest house after crossing the frontier. - -It was a lonely inn, about a league from the little village of Saint- -Jean-de-Coche, and was kept by a man named Balstain. - -They rapped, in spite of the lateness of the hour--it was past -midnight. They were admitted, and they ordered supper. - -But Lacheneur, weak from loss of blood, and exhausted by his long -tramp, declared that he would eat no supper. - -He threw himself upon a bed in an adjoining room, and was soon asleep. - -This was the first time since their meeting with Lacheneur that his -companions had found an opportunity to talk together in private. - -The same idea had occurred to both of them. - -They believed that by delivering up Lacheneur to the authorities, they -might obtain pardon for themselves. - -Neither of these men would have consented to receive a single sou of -the money promised to the betrayer; but to exchange their life and -liberty for the life and liberty of Lacheneur did not seem to them a -culpable act, under the circumstances. - -"For did he not deceive us?" they said to themselves. - -They decided, at last, that as soon as they had finished their supper, -they would go to Saint-Jean-de-Coche and inform the Piedmontese -guards. - -But they reckoned without their host. - -They had spoken loud enough to be overheard by Balstain, the -innkeeper, who had learned, during the day, of the magnificent reward -which had been promised to Lacheneur's captor. - -When he heard the name of the guest who was sleeping quietly under his -roof, a thirst for gold seized him. He whispered a word to his wife, -then escaped through the window to run and summon the gendarmes. - -He had been gone half an hour before the peasants left the house; for -to muster up courage for the act they were about to commit they had -been obliged to drink heavily. - -They closed the door so violently on going out that Lacheneur was -awakened by the noise. He sprang up, and came out into the adjoining -room. - -The wife of the innkeeper was there alone. - -"Where are my friends?" he asked, anxiously. "Where is your husband?" - -Moved by sympathy, the woman tried to falter some excuse, but finding -none, she threw herself at his feet, crying: - -"Fly, Monsieur, save yourself--you are betrayed!" - -Lacheneur rushed back into the other room, seeking a weapon with which -he could defend himself, an issue through which he could flee! - -He had thought that they might abandon him, but betray him--no, never! - -"Who has sold me?" he asked, in a strained, unnatural voice. - -"Your friends--the two men who supped there at that table." - -"Impossible, Madame, impossible!" - -He did not suspect the designs and hopes of his former comrades; and -he could not, he would not believe them capable of ignobly betraying -him for gold. - -"But," pleaded the innkeeper's wife, still on her knees before him, -"they have just started for Saint-Jean-de-Coche, where they will -denounce you. I heard them say that your life would purchase theirs. -They have certainly gone to summon the gendarmes! Is this not enough, -or am I obliged to endure the shame of confessing that my own husband, -too, has gone to betray you." - -Lacheneur understood it all now! And this supreme misfortune, after -all the misery he had endured, broke him down completely. - -Great tears gushed from his eyes, and sinking down into a chair, he -murmured: - -"Let them come; I am ready for them. No, I will not stir from here. My -miserable life is not worth such a struggle." - -But the wife of the traitor rose, and grasping the unfortunate man's -clothing, she shook him, she dragged him to the door--she would have -carried him had she possessed sufficient strength. - -"You shall not remain here," said she, with extraordinary vehemence. -"Fly, save yourself. You shall not be taken here; it will bring -misfortune upon our house!" - -Bewildered by these violent adjurations, and urged on by the instinct -of self-preservation, so powerful in every human heart, Lacheneur -stepped out upon the threshold. - -The night was very dark, and a chilling fog intensified the gloom. - -"See, Madame," said the poor fugitive gently, "how can I find my way -through these mountains, which I do not know, and where there are no -roads--where the foot-paths are scarcely discernible." - -With a quick movement Balstain's wife pushed Lacheneur out, and -turning him as one does a blind man to set him on the right track: - -"Walk straight before you," said she, "always against the wind. God -will protect you. Farewell!" - -He turned to ask further directions, but she had re-entered the house -and closed the door. - -Upheld by a feverish excitement, he walked for long hours. He soon -lost his way, and wandered on through the mountains, benumbed with -cold, stumbling over rocks, sometimes falling. - -Why he was not precipitated to the depths of some chasm it is -difficult to explain. - -He lost all idea of his whereabouts, and the sun was high in the -heavens when he at last met a human being of whom he could inquire his -way. - -It was a little shepherd-boy, in pursuit of some stray goats, whom he -encountered; but the lad, frightened by the wild and haggard -appearance of the stranger, at first refused to approach. - -The offer of a piece of money induced him to come a little nearer. - -"You are on the summit of the mountain, Monsieur," said he; "and -exactly on the boundary line. Here is France; there is Savoy." - -"And what is the nearest village?" - -"On the Savoyard side, Saint-Jean-de-Coche; on the French side, Saint- -Pavin." - -So after all his terrible exertions, Lacheneur was not a league from -the inn. - -Appalled by this discovery, he remained for a moment undecided which -course to pursue. - -What did it matter? Why should the doomed hesitate? Do not all roads -lead to the abyss into which they must sink? - -He remembered the gendarmes that the innkeeper's wife had warned him -against, and slowly and with great difficulty descended the steep -mountainside leading down to France. - -He was near Saint-Pavin, when, before an isolated cottage, he saw a -pretty peasant woman spinning in the sunshine. - -He dragged himself toward her, and in weak tones begged her -hospitality. - -On seeing this man, whose face was ghastly pale, and whose clothing -was torn and soiled with dust and blood, the woman rose, evidently -more surprised than alarmed. - -She looked at him closely, and saw that his age, his stature, and his -features corresponded with the descriptions of Lacheneur, which had -been scattered thickly about the frontier. - -"You are the conspirator they are hunting for, and for whom they -promise a reward of twenty thousand francs," she said. - -Lacheneur trembled. - -"Yes, I am Lacheneur," he replied, after a moment's hesitation; "I am -Lacheneur. Betray me, if you will, but in charity's name give me a -morsel of bread, and allow me to rest a little." - -At the words "betray me," the young woman made a gesture of horror and -disgust. - -"We betray you, sir!" said she. "Ah! you do not know the Antoines! -Enter our house, and lie down upon the bed while I prepare some -refreshments for you. When my husband comes home, we will see what can -be done." - -It was nearly sunset when the master of the house, a robust -mountaineer, with a frank face, returned. - -On beholding the stranger seated at his fireside he turned frightfully -pale. - -"Unfortunate woman!" he whispered to his wife, "do you not know that -any man who shelters this fugitive will be shot, and his house -levelled to the ground?" - -Lacheneur rose with a shudder. - -He had not known this. He knew the infamous reward which had been -promised to his betrayer; but he had not known the danger his presence -brought upon these worthy people. "I will go at once, sir," said he, -gently. - -But the peasant placed his large hand kindly upon his guest's -shoulder, and forced him to resume his seat. - -"It was not to drive you away that I said what I did," he remarked. -"You are at home, and you shall remain here until I can find some -means of insuring your safety." - -The pretty peasant woman flung her arms about her husband's neck, and -in tones of the most ardent affection exclaimed: "Ah! you are a noble -man, Antoine." - -He smiled, embraced her tenderly, then, pointing to the open door: - -"Watch!" he said. "I feel it my duty to tell you, sir, that it will -not be easy to save you," resumed the honest peasant. "The promises of -reward have set all evil-minded people on the alert. They know that -you are in the neighborhood. A rascally innkeeper has crossed the -frontier for the express purpose of betraying your whereabouts to the -French gendarmes." - -"Balstain?" - -"Yes, Balstain; and he is hunting for you now. That is not all. As I -passed through Saint-Pavin, on my return, I saw eight mounted -soldiers, guided by a peasant, also on horseback. They declared that -they knew you were concealed in the village, and they were going to -search every house." - -These soldiers were none other than the Montaignac chasseurs, placed -at Chupin's disposal by the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -It was indeed as Antoine had said. - -The task was certainly not at all to their taste, but they were -closely watched by the lieutenant in command, who hoped to receive -some substantial reward if the expedition was crowned with success. -Antoine, meanwhile, continued his exposition of his hopes and fears. - -"Wounded and exhausted as you are," he was saying to Lacheneur, "you -will be in no condition to make a long march in less than a fortnight. -Until then you must conceal yourself. Fortunately, I know a safe -retreat in the mountain, not far from here. I will take you there -to-night, with provisions enough to last you for a week." - -A stifled cry from his wife interrupted him. - -He turned, and saw her fall almost fainting against the door, her face -whiter than her coif, her finger pointing to the path that led from -Saint-Pavin to their cottage. - -"The soldiers--they are coming!" she gasped. - -Quicker than thought, Lacheneur and the peasant sprang to the door to -see for themselves. - -The young woman had spoken the truth. - -The Montaignac chasseurs were climbing the steep foot-path slowly, but -surely. - -Chupin walked in advance, urging them on with voice, gesture and -example. - -An imprudent word from the little shepherd-boy, whom M. Lacheneur had -questioned, had decided the fugitive's fate. - -On returning to Saint-Pavin, and hearing that the soldiers were -searching for the chief conspirator, the lad chanced to say: - -"I met a man just now on the mountain who asked me where he was; and I -saw him go down the footpath leading to Antoine's cottage." - -And in proof of his words, he proudly displayed the piece of silver -which Lacheneur had given him. - -"One more bold stroke and we have our man!" exclaimed Chupin. "Come, -comrades!" - -And now the party were not more than two hundred feet from the house -in which the proscribed man had found an asylum. - -Antoine and his wife looked at each other with anguish in their eyes. - -They saw that their visitor was lost. - -"We must save him! we must save him!" cried the woman. - -"Yes, we must save him!" repeated the husband, gloomily. "They shall -kill me before I betray a man in my own house." - -"If he would hide in the stable behind the bundles of straw----" - -"They would find him! These soldiers are worse than tigers, and the -wretch who leads them on must have the keen scent of a blood-hound." - -He turned quickly to Lacheneur. - -"Come, sir," said he, "let us leap from the back window and flee to -the mountains. They will see us, but no matter! These horsemen are -always clumsy runners. If you cannot run, I will carry you. They will -probably fire at us, but they will miss us." - -"And your wife?" asked Lacheneur. - -The honest mountaineer shuddered; but he said: - -"She will join us." - -Lacheneur took his friend's hand and pressed it tenderly. - -"Ah! you are noble people," he exclaimed, "and God will reward you for -your kindness to a poor fugitive. But you have done too much already. -I should be the basest of men if I consented to uselessly expose you -to danger. I can bear this life no longer; I have no wish to escape." - -He drew the sobbing woman to him and kissed her upon the forehead. - -"I have a daughter, young and beautiful like yourself, as generous and -proud. Poor Marie-Anne! And I have pitilessly sacrificed her to my -hatred! I should not complain; come what may, I have deserved it." - -The sound of approaching footsteps became more and more distinct. -Lacheneur straightened himself up, and seemed to be gathering all his -energy for the decisive moment. - -"Remain inside," he said, imperiously, to Antoine and his wife. "I am -going out; they must not arrest me in your house." - -As he spoke, he stepped outside the door, with a firm tread, a -dauntless brow, a calm and assured mien. - -The soldiers were but a few feet from him. - -"Halt!" he exclaimed, in a strong, ringing voice. "It is Lacheneur you -are seeking, is it not? I am he! I surrender myself." - -An unbroken stillness reigned. Not a sound, not a word replied. - -The spectre of death that hovered above his head imparted such an -imposing majesty to his person that the soldiers paused, silent and -awed. - -But there was one man who was terrified by this resonant voice, and -that was Chupin. - -Remorse filled his cowardly heart, and pale and trembling, he tried to -hide behind the soldiers. - -Lacheneur walked straight to him. - -"So it is you who have sold my life, Chupin?" he said, scornfully. -"You have not forgotten, I see plainly, how often Marie-Anne has -filled your empty larder--and now you take your revenge." - -The miserable wretch seemed crushed. Now that he had done this foul -deed, he knew what treason really was. - -"So be it," said M. Lacheneur. "You will receive the price of my -blood; but it will not bring you good fortune--traitor!" - -But Chupin, indignant with himself for his weakness, was already -trying to shake off the fear that mastered him. - -"You have conspired against the King," he stammered. "I have done only -my duty in denouncing you." - -And turning to the soldiers, he said: - -"As for you, comrades, you may rest assured that the Duc de Sairmeuse -will testify his gratitude for your services." - -They had bound Lacheneur's hands, and the party were about to descend -the mountain, when a man appeared, bareheaded, covered with -perspiration, and panting for breath. - -Twilight was falling, but M. Lacheneur recognized Balstain. - -"Ah! you have him!" he exclaimed, as soon as he was within hearing -distance, and pointing to the prisoner. "The reward belongs to me--I -denounced him first on the other side of the frontier. The gendarmes -at Saint-Jean-de-Coche will testify to that. He would have been -captured last night in my house, but he ran away in my absence; and I -have been following the bandit for sixteen hours." - -He spoke with extraordinary vehemence and volubility, beside himself -with fear lest he was about to lose his reward, and lest his treason -would bring him nothing save disgrace and obloquy. - -"If you have any right to the reward, you must prove it before the -proper authorities," said the officer in command. - -"If I have any right!" interrupted Balstain; "who contests my right, -then?" - -He looked threateningly around, and his eyes fell on Chupin. - -"Is it you?" he demanded. "Do you dare to assert that you discovered -the brigand?" - -"Yes, it was I who discovered his hiding-place." - -"You lie, impostor!" vociferated the innkeeper; "you lie!" - -The soldiers did not move. This scene repaid them for the disgust they -had experienced during the afternoon. - -"But," continued Balstain, "what else could one expect from a vile -knave like Chupin? Everyone knows that he has been obliged to flee -from France a dozen times on account of his crimes. Where did you take -refuge when you crossed the frontier, Chupin? In my house, in the inn -kept by honest Balstain. You were fed and protected there. How many -times have I saved you from the gendarmes and from the galleys? More -times than I can count. And to reward me, you steal my property; you -steal this man who was mine----" - -"He is insane!" said the terrified Chupin, "he is mad!" - -Then the innkeeper changed his tactics. - -"At least you will be reasonable," he exclaimed. "Let us see, Chupin, -what you will do for an old friend? Divide, will you not? No, you say -no? What will you give me, comrade? A third? Is that too much? A -quarter, then----" - -Chupin felt that all the soldiers were enjoying his terrible -humiliation. They were sneering at him, and only an instant before -they had avoided coming in contact with him with evident horror. - -Transported with anger, he pushed Balstain violently aside, crying to -the soldiers: - -"Come--are we going to spend the night here?" - -An implacable hatred gleamed in the eye of the Piedmontese. - -He drew his knife from his pocket, and making the sign of the cross in -the air: - -"Saint-Jean-de-Coche," he exclaimed, in a ringing voice, "and you, -Holy Virgin, hear my vow. May my soul burn in hell if I ever use a -knife at my repasts until I have plunged this, which I now hold, into -the heart of the scoundrel who has defrauded me!" - -Having said this, he disappeared in the woods, and the soldiers took -up their line of march. - -But Chupin was no longer the same. All his accustomed impudence had -fled. He walked on with bowed head, a prey to the most sinister -presentiments. - -He felt assured that an oath like that of Balstain's, and uttered by -such a man, was equivalent to a death-warrant, or at least to a speedy -prospect of assassination. - -This thought tormented him so much that he would not allow the -detachment to spend the night at Saint-Pavin, as had been agreed upon. -He was impatient to leave the neighborhood. - -After supper Chupin sent for a cart; the prisoner, securely bound, was -placed in it, and the party started for Montaignac. - -The great bell was striking two when Lacheneur was brought into the -citadel. - -At that very moment M. d'Escorval and Corporal Bavois were making -their preparations for escape. - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -Alone in his cell, Chanlouineau, after Marie-Anne's departure, -abandoned himself to the most frightful despair. - -He had just given more than life to the woman he loved so fervently. - -For had he not, in the hope of obtaining an interview with her, -perilled his honor by simulating the most ignoble fear? While doing -so, he thought only of the success of his ruse. But now he knew only -too well what those who had witnessed his apparent weakness would say -of him. - -"This Chanlouineau is only a miserable coward after all," he fancied -he could hear them saying among themselves. "We have seen him on his -knees, begging for mercy, and promising to betray his accomplices." - -The thought that his memory would be tarnished with charges of -cowardice and treason drove him nearly mad. - -He actually longed for death, since it would give him an opportunity -to retrieve his honor. - -"They shall see, then," he cried, wrathfully, "if I turn pale and -tremble before the soldiers." - -He was in this state of mind when the door opened to admit the Marquis -de Courtornieu, who, after seeing Mlle. Lacheneur leave the prison, -came to Chanlouineau to ascertain the result of her visit. - -"Well, my good fellow--" began the marquis, in his most condescending -manner. - -"Leave!" cried Chanlouineau, in a fury of passion. "Leave, or----" - -Without waiting to hear the end of the sentence the marquis made his -escape, greatly surprised and not a little dismayed by this sudden -change. - -"What a dangerous and blood-thirsty rascal!" he remarked to the guard. -"It would, perhaps, be advisable to put him in a strait-jacket!" - -Ah! there was no necessity for that. The heroic peasant had thrown -himself upon his straw pallet, oppressed with feverish anxiety. - -Would Marie-Anne know how to make the best use of the weapon which he -had placed in her hands? - -If he hoped so, it was because she would have as her counsellor and -guide a man in whose judgment he had the most implicit confidence-- -Abbe Midon. - -"Martial will be afraid of the letter," he said to himself, again and -again; "certainly he will be afraid." - -In this Chanlouineau was entirely mistaken. His discernment and -intelligence were certainly above his station, but he was not -sufficiently acute to read a character like that of the young Marquis -de Sairmeuse. - -The document which he had written in a moment of /abandon/ and -blindness, was almost without influence in determining his course. - -He pretended to be greatly alarmed, in order to frighten his father; -but in reality he considered the threat puerile. - -Marie-Anne would have obtained the same assistance from him if she had -not possessed this letter. - -Other influences had decided him: the difficulties and dangers of the -undertaking, the risks to be incurred, the prejudices to be braved. - -To save the life of Baron d'Escorval--an enemy--to wrest him from the -execution on the very steps of the scaffold, as it were, seemed to him -a delightful enterprise. And to assure the happiness of the woman he -adored by saving the life of an enemy, even after his suit had been -refused, seemed a chivalrous act worthy of him. - -Besides, what an opportunity it afforded for the exercise of his -/sang-froid/, his diplomatic talent, and the /finesse/ upon which he -prided himself! - -It was necessary to make his father his dupe. That was an easy task. - -It was necessary to impose upon the credulity of the Marquis de -Courtornieu. This was a difficult task, yet he succeeded. - -But poor Chanlouineau could not conceive of such contradictions, and -he was consumed with anxiety. - -Willingly would he have consented to be put to the torture before -receiving his death-blow, if he might have been allowed to follow -Marie-Anne in her undertakings. - -What was she doing? How could he ascertain? - -A dozen times during the evening he called his guards, under every -possible pretext, and tried to compel them to talk with him. He knew -very well that these men could be no better informed on the subject -than he was himself, that he could place no confidence in their -reports--but that made no difference. - -The drums beat for the evening roll-call, then for the extinguishment -of lights--after that, silence. - -Standing at the window of his cell, Chanlouineau concentrated all his -faculties in a superhuman effort of attention. - -It seemed to him if the baron regained his liberty, he would be warned -of it by some sign. Those whom he had saved owed him, he thought, this -slight token of gratitude. - -A little after two o'clock he heard sounds that made him tremble. -There was a great bustle in the corridors; guards running to and fro, -and calling each other, a rattling of keys, and the opening and -shutting of doors. - -The passage was suddenly illuminated; he looked out, and by the -uncertain light of the lanterns, he thought he saw Lacheneur, as pale -as a ghost, pass the cell, led by some soldiers. - -Lacheneur! Could this be possible? He doubted his own eyesight. He -thought it must be a vision born of the fever burning in his brain. - -Later, he heard a despairing cry. But was it surprising that one -should hear such a sound in a prison, where twenty men condemned to -death were suffering the agony of that terrible night which precedes -the day of execution. - -At last, the gray light of early dawn came creeping in through the -prison-bars. Chanlouineau was in despair. - -"The letter was useless!" he murmured. - -Poor generous peasant! His heart would have leaped for joy could he -have cast a glance on the courtyard of the citadel. - -More than an hour had passed after the sounding of the /reveille/, -when two countrywomen, who were carrying their butter and eggs to -market, presented themselves at the gate of the fortress. - -They declared that while passing through the fields at the base of the -precipitous cliff upon which the citadel was built, they had -discovered a rope dangling from the side of the rock. A rope! Then one -of the condemned prisoners must have escaped. The guards hastened to -Baron d'Escorval's room--it was empty. - -The baron had fled, taking with him the man who had been left to guard -him--Corporal Bavois, of the grenadiers. - -The amazement was as intense as the indignation, but the fright was -still greater. - -There was not a single officer who did not tremble on thinking of his -responsibility; not one who did not see his hopes of advancement -blighted forever. - -What should they say to the formidable Duc de Sairmeuse and to the -Marquis de Courtornieu, who, in spite of his calm and polished -manners, was almost as much to be feared. It was necessary to warn -them, however, and a sergeant was despatched with the news. - -Soon they made their appearance, accompanied by Martial; all -frightfully angry. - -M. de Sairmeuse especially seemed beside himself. - -He swore at everybody, accused everybody, threatened everybody. - -He began by consigning all the keepers and guards to prison; he even -talked of demanding the dismissal of all the officers. - -"As for that miserable Bavois," he exclaimed, "as for that cowardly -deserter, he shall be shot as soon as we capture him, and we will -capture him, you may depend upon it!" - -They had hoped to appease the duke's wrath a little, by informing him -of Lacheneur's arrest; but he knew this already, for Chupin had -ventured to awake him in the middle of the night to tell him the great -news. - -The baron's escape afforded the duke an opportunity to exalt Chupin's -merits. - -"The man who has discovered Lacheneur will know how to find this -traitor d'Escorval," he remarked. - -M. de Courtornieu, who was more calm, "took measures for the -restoration of a great culprit to the hand of justice," as he said. - -He sent couriers in every direction, ordering them to make close -inquiries throughout the neighborhood. - -His commands were brief, but to the point; they were to watch the -frontier, to submit all travellers to a rigorous examination, to -search the house, and to sow the description of d'Escorval broadcast -through the land. - -But first of all he ordered the arrest both of Abbe Midon--the Cure of -Sairmeuse, and of the son of Baron d'Escorval. - -Among the officers present there was one, an old lieutenant, medalled -and decorated, who had been deeply wounded by imputations uttered by -the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -He stepped forward with a gloomy air, and said that these measures -were doubtless all very well, but the most pressing and urgent duty -was to institute an investigation at once, which, while acquainting -them with the method of escape, would probably reveal the accomplices. - -On hearing the word "investigation," neither the Duc de Sairmeuse nor -the Marquis de Courtornieu could repress a slight shudder. - -They could not ignore the fact that their reputations were at stake, -and that the merest trifle might disclose the truth. A precaution -neglected, the most insignificant detail, a word, a gesture might ruin -their ambitious hopes forever. - -They trembled to think that this officer might be a man of unusual -shrewdness, who had suspected their complicity, and was impatient to -verify his presumptions. - -No, the old lieutenant had not the slightest suspicion. He had spoken -on the impulse of the moment, merely to give vent to his displeasure. -He was not even keen enough to remark the rapid glance interchanged -between the marquis and the duke. - -Martial noticed this look, however, and with a politeness too studied -not to be ridicule, he addressed the lieutenant: - -"Yes, we must institute an investigation; that suggestion is as shrewd -as it is opportune," he remarked. - -The old officer turned away with a muttered oath. - -"That coxcomb is poking fun at me," he thought; "and he and his father -and that prig deserve--but what is one to do?" - -In spite of his bold remark, Martial felt that he must not incur the -slightest risk. - -To whom must the charge of this investigation be intrusted? To the -duke and to the marquis, of course, since they were the only persons -who would know just how much to conceal, and just how much to -disclose. - -They began their task immediately, with an /empressement/ which could -not fail to silence all doubts, in case any existed in the minds of -their subordinates. - -But who could be suspicious? The success of the plot had been all the -more certain from the fact that the baron's escape seemed likely to -injure the interests of the very parties who had favored it. - -Martial thought he knew the details of the escape as exactly as the -fugitives themselves. He had been the author, even if they had been -the actors, of the drama of the preceding night. - -He was soon obliged to admit that he was mistaken in this opinion. - -The investigation revealed facts which seemed incomprehensible to him. - -It was evident that the Baron d'Escorval and Corporal Bavois had been -compelled to accomplish two successive descents. - -To do this the prisoners had realized (since they had succeeded) the -necessity of having two ropes. Martial had provided them; the -prisoners must have used them. And yet only one rope could be found-- -the one which the peasant woman had perceived hanging from the rocky -platform, where it was made fast to an iron crowbar. - -From the window to the platform, there was no rope. - -"This is most extraordinary!" murmured Martial, thoughtfully. - -"Very strange!" approved M. de Courtornieu. - -"How the devil could they have reached the base of the tower?" - -"That is what I cannot understand." - -But Martial found another cause for surprise. - -On examining the rope that remained--the one which had been used in -making the second descent--he discovered that it was not a single -piece. Two pieces had been knotted together. The longest piece had -evidently been too short. - -How did this happen? Could the duke have made a mistake in the height -of the cliff? or had the abbe measured the rope incorrectly? - -But Martial had also measured it with his eye, and it had seemed to -him that the rope was much longer, fully a third longer, than it now -appeared. - -"There must have been some accident," he remarked to his father and to -the marquis; "but what?" - -"Well, what does it matter?" replied the marquis, "you have the -compromising letter, have you not?" - -But Martial's was one of those minds that never rest when confronted -by an unsolved problem. - -He insisted on going to inspect the rocks at the foot of the -precipice. - -There they discovered large spots of blood. - -"One of the fugitives must have fallen," said Martial, quickly, "and -was dangerously wounded!" - -"Upon my word!" exclaimed the Duc de Sairmeuse, "if Baron d'Escorval -has broken his neck, I shall be delighted!" - -Martial's face turned crimson, and he looked searchingly at his -father. - -"I suppose, Monsieur, that you do not mean one word of what you are -saying," Martial said, coldly. "We pledged ourselves, upon the honor -of our name, to save Baron d'Escorval. If he has been killed it will -be a great misfortune to us, Monsieur, a great misfortune." - -When his son addressed him in his haughty and freezing tone the duke -never knew how to reply. He was indignant, but his son's was the -stronger nature. - -"Nonsense!" exclaimed M. de Courtornieu; "if the rascal had merely -been wounded we should have known it." - -Such was the opinion of Chupin, who had been sent for by the duke, and -who had just made his appearance. - -But the old scoundrel, who was usually so loquacious and so officious, -replied briefly; and, strange to say, did not offer his services. - -Of his imperturbable assurance, of his wonted impudence, of his -obsequious and cunning smile, absolutely nothing remained. - -His restless eyes, the contraction of his features, his gloomy manner, -and the occasional shudder which he could not repress, all betrayed -his secret perturbation. - -So marked was the change that even the Duc de Sairmeuse observed it. - -"What calamity has happened to you, Master Chupin?" he inquired. - -"This has happened," he responded, sullenly: "when I was coming here -the children of the town threw mud and stones at me, and ran after me, -shouting: 'Traitor! traitor!'" - -He clinched his fists; he seemed to be meditating vengeance, and he -added: - -"The people of Montaignac are pleased. They know that the baron has -escaped, and they are rejoicing." - -Alas! this joy was destined to be of short duration, for this was the -day appointed for the execution of the conspirators. - -It was Wednesday. - -At noon the gates of the citadel were closed, and the gloom was -profound and universal, when the heavy rolling of drums announced the -preparations for the frightful holocaust. - -Consternation and fear spread through the town; the silence of death -made itself felt on every side; the streets were deserted, and the -doors and shutters of every house were closed. - -At last, as three o'clock sounded, the gates of the fortress were -opened to give passage to fourteen doomed men, each accompanied by a -priest. - -Fourteen! for seized by remorse or fright at the last moment, M de -Courtornieu and the Duc de Sairmeuse had granted a reprieve to six of -the prisoners and at that very hour a courier was hastening toward -Paris with six petitions for pardons, signed by the Military -Commission. - -Chanlouineau was not among those for whom royal clemency had been -solicited. - -When he left his cell, without knowing whether or not his letter had -availed, he counted the condemned with poignant anxiety. - -His eyes betrayed such an agony of anguish that the priest who -accompanied him leaned toward him and whispered: - -"For whom are you looking, my son?" - -"For Baron d'Escorval." - -"He escaped last night." - -"Ah! now I shall die content!" exclaimed the heroic peasant. - -He died as he had sworn he would die, without even changing color-- -calm and proud, the name of Marie-Anne upon his lips. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -Ah, well, there was one woman, a fair young girl, whose heart had not -been touched by the sorrowful scenes of which Montaignac had been the -theatre. - -Mlle. Blanche de Courtornieu smiled as brightly as ever in the midst -of a stricken people; and surrounded by mourners, her lovely eyes -remained dry. - -The daughter of a man who, for a week, exercised the power of a -dictator, she did not lift her finger to save a single one of the -condemned prisoners from the executioner. - -They had stopped her carriage on the public road. This was a crime -which Mlle. de Courtornieu could never forget. - -She also knew that she owed it to Marie-Anne's intercession that she -had not been held prisoner. This she could never forgive. - -So it was with the bitterest resentment that, on the morning following -her arrival in Montaignac, she recounted what she styled her -"humiliations" to her father, i.e., the inconceivable arrogance of -that Lacheneur girl, and the frightful brutality of which the peasants -had been guilty. - -And when the Marquis de Courtornieu asked if she would consent to -testify against Baron d'Escorval, she coldly replied: - -"I think that such is my duty, and I shall fulfil it, however painful -it may be." - -She knew perfectly well that her deposition would be the baron's -death-warrant; but she persisted in her resolve, veiling her hatred -and her insensibility under the name of virtue. - -But we must do her the justice to admit that her testimony was -sincere. - -She really believed that it was Baron d'Escorval who was with the -rebels, and whose opinion Chanlouineau had asked. - -This error on the part of Mlle. Blanche rose from the custom of -designating Maurice by his Christian name, which prevailed in the -neighborhood. - -In speaking of him everyone said "Monsieur Maurice." When they said -"Monsieur d'Escorval," they referred to the baron. - -After the crushing evidence against the accused had been written and -signed in her fine and aristocratic hand-writing, Mlle. de Courtornieu -bore herself with partly real and partly affected indifference. She -would not, on any account, have had people suppose that anything -relating to these plebeians--these low peasants--could possibly -disturb her proud serenity. She would not so much as ask a single -question on the subject. - -But this superb indifference was, in great measure, assumed. In her -inmost soul she was blessing this conspiracy which had caused so many -tears and so much blood to flow. Had it not removed her rival from her -path? - -"Now," she thought, "the marquis will return to me, and I will make -him forget the bold creature who has bewitched him!" - -Chimeras! The charm had vanished which had once caused the love of -Martial de Sairmeuse to oscillate between Mlle. de Courtornieu and the -daughter of Lacheneur. - -Captivated at first by the charms of Mlle. Blanche, he soon discovered -the calculating ambition and the utter worldliness concealed beneath -such seeming simplicity and candor. Nor was he long in discerning her -intense vanity, her lack of principle, and her unbounded selfishness; -and, comparing her with the noble and generous Marie-Anne, his -admiration was changed into indifference, or rather repugnance. - -He did return to her, however, or at least he seemed to return to her, -actuated, perhaps, by that inexplicable sentiment that impels us -sometimes to do that which is most distasteful to us, and by a feeling -of discouragement and despair, knowing that Marie-Anne was now lost to -him forever. - -He also said to himself that a pledge had been interchanged between -the duke and the Marquis de Courtornieu; that he, too, had given his -word, and that Mlle. Blanche was his betrothed. - -Was it worth while to break this engagement? Would he not be compelled -to marry some day? Why not fulfil the pledge that had been made? He -was as willing to marry Mlle. de Courtornieu as anyone else, since he -was sure that the only woman whom he had ever truly loved--the only -woman whom he ever could love--was never to be his. - -Master of himself when near her, and sure that he would ever remain -the same, it was easy to play the part of lover with that perfection -and that charm which--sad as it is to say it--the real passion seldom -or never attains. He was assisted by his self-love, and also by that -instinct of duplicity which leads a man to contradict his thoughts by -his acts. - -But while he seemed to be occupied only with thoughts of his -approaching marriage, his mind was full of intense anxiety concerning -Baron d'Escorval. - -What had become of the baron and of Bavois after their escape? What -had become of those who were awaiting them on the rocks--for Martial -knew all their plans--Mme. d'Escorval and Marie-Anne, the abbe and -Maurice, and the four officers? - -There were, then, ten persons in all who had disappeared. And Martial -asked himself again and again, how it could be possible for so many -individuals to mysteriously disappear, leaving no trace behind them. - -"It unquestionably denotes a superior ability," thought Martial, "I -recognize the hand of the priest." - -It was, indeed, remarkable, since the search ordered by the Duc de -Sairmeuse and the marquis had been pursued with feverish activity, -greatly to the terror of those who had instituted it. Still what could -they do? They had imprudently excited the zeal of their subordinates, -and now they were unable to moderate it. But fortunately all efforts -to discover the fugitives had proved unavailing. - -One witness testified, however, that on the morning of the escape, he -met, just before daybreak, a party of about a dozen persons, men and -women, who seemed to be carrying a dead body. - -This circumstance, taken in connection with the broken rope and the -blood-stains, made Martial tremble. - -He had also been strongly impressed by another circumstance, which was -revealed as the investigation progressed. - -All the soldiers who were on guard that eventful night were -interrogated. One of them testified as follows: - -"I was on guard in the corridor communicating with the prisoner's -apartment in the tower, when at about half-past two o'clock, after -Lacheneur had been placed in his cell, I saw an officer approaching -me. I challenged him; he gave me the countersign, and, naturally, I -allowed him to pass. He went down the corridor, and entered the room -adjoining that in which Monsieur d'Escorval was confined. He remained -there about five minutes." - -"Did you recognize this officer?" Martial eagerly inquired. - -And the soldier answered: "No. He wore a large cloak, the collar of -which was turned up so high that it covered his face to the very -eyes." - -Who could this mysterious officer have been? What was he doing in the -room where the ropes had been deposited? - -Martial racked his brain to discover an answer to these questions. - -The Marquis de Courtornieu himself seemed much disturbed. - -"How could you be ignorant that there were many sympathizers with this -movement in the garrison?" he said, angrily. "You might have known -that this visitor, who concealed his face so carefully, was an -accomplice who had been warned by Bavois, and who came to see if he -needed a helping hand." - -This was a plausible explanation, still it did not satisfy Martial. - -"It is very strange," he thought, "that Monsieur d'Escorval has not -even deigned to let me know he is in safety. The service which /I/ -have rendered him deserves that acknowledgment, at least." - -Such was his disquietude that he resolved to apply to Chupin, even -though this traitor inspired him with extreme repugnance. - -But it was no longer easy to obtain the services of the old spy. Since -he had received the price of Lacheneur's blood--the twenty thousand -francs which had so fascinated him--Chupin had deserted the house of -the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -He had taken up his quarters in a small inn on the outskirts of the -town; and he spent his days alone in a large room on the second floor. - -At night he barricaded the doors, and drank, drank, drank; and until -daybreak they could hear him cursing and singing or struggling against -imaginary enemies. - -Still he dared not disobey the order brought by a soldier, summoning -him to the Hotel de Sairmeuse at once. - -"I wish to discover what has become of Baron d'Escorval," said -Martial. - -Chupin trembled, he who had formerly been bronze, and a fleeting color -dyed his cheeks. - -"The Montaignac police are at your disposal," he answered sulkily. -"They, perhaps, can satisfy the curiosity of Monsieur le Marquis. I do -not belong to the police." - -Was he in earnest, or was he endeavoring to augment the value of his -services by refusing them? Martial inclined to the latter opinion. - -"You shall have no reason to complain of my generosity," said he. "I -will pay you well." - -But on hearing the word "pay," which would have made his eyes gleam -with delight a week before, Chupin flew into a furious passion. - -"So it was to tempt me again that you summoned me here!" he exclaimed. -"You would do better to leave me quietly at my inn." - -"What do you mean, fool?" - -But Chupin did not even hear this interruption, and, with increasing -fury, he continued: - -"They told me that, by betraying Lacheneur, I should be doing my duty -and serving the King. I betrayed him, and now I am treated as if I had -committed the worst of crimes. Formerly, when I lived by stealing and -poaching, they despised me, perhaps; but they did not shun me as they -did the pestilence. They called me rascal, robber, and the like; but -they would drink with me all the same. To-day I have twenty thousand -francs, and I am treated as if I were a venomous beast. If I approach -a man, he draws back; if I enter a room, those who are there leave -it." - -The recollection of the insults he had received made him more and more -frantic with rage. - -"Was the act I committed so ignoble and abominable?" he pursued. "Then -why did your father propose it? The shame should fall on him. He -should not have tempted a poor man with wealth like that. If, on the -contrary, I have done well, let them make laws to protect me." - -Martial comprehended the necessity of reassuring his troubled mind. - -"Chupin, my boy," said he, "I do not ask you to discover Monsieur -d'Escorval in order to denounce him; far from it--I only desire you to -ascertain if anyone at Saint-Pavin, or at Saint-Jean-de-Coche, knows -of his having crossed the frontier." - -On hearing the name Saint-Jean-de-Coche, Chupin's face blanched. - -"Do you wish me to be murdered?" he exclaimed, remembering Balstain -and his vow. "I would have you know that I value my life, now that I -am rich." - -And seized with a sort of panic he fled precipitately. Martial was -stupefied with astonishment. - -"One might really suppose that the wretch was sorry for what he had -done," he thought. - -If that was really the case, Chupin was not alone. - -M. de Courtornieu and the Duc de Sairmeuse were secretly blaming -themselves for the exaggerations in their first reports, and the -manner in which they had magnified the proportions of the rebellion. -They accused each other of undue haste, of neglect of the proper forms -of procedure, and the injustice of the verdict rendered. - -Each endeavored to make the other responsible for the blood which had -been spilled; one tried to cast the public odium upon the other. - -Meanwhile they were both doing their best to obtain a pardon for the -six prisoners who had been reprieved. - -They did not succeed. - -One night a courier arrived at Montaignac, bearing the following -laconic despatch: - - - "The twenty-one convicted prisoners must be executed." - - -That is to say, the Duc de Richelieu, and the council of ministers, -headed by M. Decazes, the minister of police, had decided that the -petitions for clemency must be refused. - -This despatch was a terrible blow to the Duc de Sairmeuse and M. de -Courtornieu. They knew, better than anyone else, how little these poor -men, whose lives they had tried, too late, to save, deserved death. -They knew it would soon be publicly proven that two of the six men had -taken no part whatever in the conspiracy. - -What was to be done? - -Martial desired his father to resign his authority; but the duke had -not courage to do it. - -M. de Courtornieu encouraged him. He admitted that all this was very -unfortunate, but declared, since the wine had been drawn, that it was -necessary to drink it, and that one could not draw back now without -causing a terrible scandal. - -The next day the dismal rolling of drums was again heard, and the six -doomed men, two of whom were known to be innocent, were led outside -the walls of the citadel and shot, on the same spot where, only a week -before, fourteen of their comrades had fallen. - -And the prime mover in the conspiracy had not yet been tried. - -Confined in the cell next to that which Chanlouineau had occupied, -Lacheneur had fallen into a state of gloomy despondency, which lasted -during his whole term of imprisonment. He was terribly broken, both in -body and in mind. - -Once only did the blood mount to his pallid cheek, and that was on the -morning when the Duc de Sairmeuse entered the cell to interrogate him. - -"It was you who drove me to do what I did," he said. "God sees us, and -judges us!" - -Unhappy man! his faults had been great; his chastisement was terrible. - -He had sacrificed his children on the altar of his wounded pride; he -had not even the consolation of pressing them to his heart and of -asking their forgiveness before he died. - -Alone in his cell he could not distract his mind from thoughts of his -son and of his daughter; but such was the terrible situation in which -he had placed himself that he dared not ask what had become of them. - -Through a compassionate keeper, he learned that nothing had been heard -of Jean, and that it was supposed Marie-Anne had gone to some foreign -country with the d'Escorval family. - -When summoned before the court for trial, Lacheneur was calm and -dignified in manner. He attempted no defence, but responded with -perfect frankness. He took all the blame upon himself, and would not -give the name of one of his accomplices. - -Condemned to be beheaded, he was executed on the following day. In -spite of the rain, he desired to walk to the place of execution. When -he reached the scaffold, he ascended the steps with a firm tread, and, -of his own accord, placed his head upon the block. - -A few seconds later, the rebellion of the 4th of March counted its -twenty-first victim. - -And that same evening the people everywhere were talking of the -magnificent rewards which were to be bestowed upon the Duc de -Sairmeuse and the Marquis de Courtornieu; and it was also asserted -that the nuptials of the children of these great houses were to take -place before the close of the week. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -That Martial de Sairmeuse was to marry Mlle. Blanche de Courtornieu -did not surprise the inhabitants of Montaignac in the least. - -But spreading such a report, with Lacheneur's execution fresh in the -minds of everyone, could not fail to bring odium upon these men who -had held absolute power, and who had exercised it so mercilessly. - -Heaven knows that M. de Courtornieu and the Duc de Sairmeuse were now -doing their best to make the people of Montaignac forget the atrocious -cruelty of which they had been guilty during their dictatorship. - -Of the hundred or more who were confined in the citadel, only eighteen -or twenty were tried, and they received only some very slight -punishment; the others were released. - -Major Carini, the leader of the conspirators in Montaignac, who had -expected to lose his head, heard himself, with astonishment, sentenced -to two years' imprisonment. - -But there are crimes which nothing can efface or extenuate. Public -opinion attributed this sudden clemency on the part of the duke and -the marquis to fear. - -People execrated them for their cruelty, and despised them for their -apparent cowardice. - -They were ignorant of this, however, and hastened forward the -preparations for the nuptials of their children, without suspecting -that the marriage was considered a shameless defiance of public -sentiment on their part. - -The 17th of April was the day which had been appointed for the bridal, -and the wedding-feast was to be held at the Chateau de Sairmeuse, -which, at a great expense, had been transformed into a fairy palace -for the occasion. - -It was in the church of the little village of Sairmeuse, on the -loveliest of spring days, that this marriage ceremony was performed by -the cure who had taken the place of poor Abbe Midon. - -At the close of the address to the newly wedded pair, the priest -uttered these words, which he believed prophetic: - -"You will be, you /must/ be happy!" - -Who would not have believed as he did? Where could two young people be -found more richly dowered with all the attributes likely to produce -happiness, i.e., youth, rank, health, and riches. - -But though an intense joy sparkled in the eyes of the new Marquise de -Sairmeuse, there were those among the guests who observed the -bridegroom's preoccupation. One might have supposed that he was making -an effort to drive away some gloomy thought. - -At the moment when his young wife hung upon his arm, proud and -radiant, a vision of Marie-Anne rose before him, more life-like, more -potent than ever. - -What had become of her that she had not been seen at the time of her -father's execution? Courageous as he knew her to be, if she had made -no attempt to see her father, it must have been because she was -ignorant of his approaching doom. - -"Ah! if she had but loved him," Martial thought, "what happiness would -have been his. But, now he was bound for life to a woman whom he did -not love." - -At dinner, however, he succeeded in shaking off the sadness that -oppressed him, and when the guests rose to repair to the drawing- -rooms, he had almost forgotten his dark forebodings. He was rising in -his turn, when a servant approached him with a mysterious air. - -"Someone desires to see the marquis," whispered the valet. - -"Who?" - -"A young peasant who will not give his name." - -"On one's wedding-day, one must grant an audience to everybody," said -Martial. - -And gay and smiling he descended the staircase. - -In the vestibule, lined with rare and fragrant plants, stood a young -man. He was very pale, and his eyes glittered with feverish -brilliancy. - -On recognizing him Martial could not restrain an exclamation of -surprise. - -"Jean Lacheneur!" he exclaimed; "imprudent man!" - -The young man stepped forward. - -"You believed that you were rid of me," he said, bitterly. "Instead, I -return from afar. You can have your people arrest me if you choose." - -Martial's face crimsoned at the insult; but he retained his composure. - -"What do you desire?" he asked, coldly. - -Jean drew from his pocket a folded letter. - -"I am to give you this on behalf of Maurice d'Escorval." - -With an eager hand, Martial broke the seal. He glanced over the -letter, turned as pale as death, staggered and said only one word. - -"Infamous!" - -"What must I say to Maurice?" insisted Jean. "What do you intend to -do?" - -With a terrible effort Martial had conquered his weakness. He seemed -to deliberate for ten seconds, then seizing Jean's arm, he dragged him -up the staircase, saying: - -"Come--you shall see." - -Martial's countenance had changed so much during the three minutes he -had been absent that there was an exclamation of terror when he -reappeared, holding an open letter in one hand and leading with the -other a young peasant whom no one recognized. - -"Where is my father?" he demanded, in a husky voice; "where is the -Marquis de Courtornieu?" - -The duke and the marquis were with Mme. Blanche in the little salon at -the end of the main hall. - -Martial hastened there, followed by a crowd of wondering guests, who, -foreseeing a stormy scene, were determined not to lose a syllable. - -He walked directly to M. de Courtornieu, who was standing by the -fireplace, and handing him the letter: - -"Read!" said he, in a terrible voice. - -M. de Courtornieu obeyed. He became livid; the paper trembled in his -hands; his eyes fell, and he was obliged to lean against the marble -mantel for support. - -"I do not understand," he stammered: "no, I do not understand." - -The duke and Mme. Blanche both sprang forward. - -"What is it?" they asked in a breath; "what has happened?" - -With a rapid movement, Martial tore the paper from the hands of the -Marquis de Courtornieu, and addressing his father: - -"Listen to this letter," he said, imperiously. - -Three hundred people were assembled there, but the silence was so -profound that the voice of the young marquis penetrated to the -farthest extremity of the hall as he read: - - - "Monsieur le marquis--In exchange for a dozen lines that threatened - you with ruin, you promised us, upon the honor of your name, the - life of Baron d'Escorval. - - "You did, indeed, bring the ropes by which he was to make his - escape, but they had been previously cut, and my father was - precipitated to the rocks below. - - "You have forfeited your honor, Monsieur. You have soiled your name - with ineffaceable opprobrium. While so much as a drop of blood - remains in my veins, I will leave no means untried to punish you - for your cowardice and vile treason. - - "By killing me you would, it is true, escape the chastisement I am - reserving for you. Consent to fight with me. Shall I await you - to-morrow on the Reche? At what hour? With what weapons? - - "If you are the vilest of men, you can appoint a rendezvous, and - then send your gendarmes to arrest me. That would be an act worthy - of you. - - "Maurice d'Escorval." - - -The duke was in despair. He saw the secret of the baron's flight made -public--his political prospects ruined. - -"Hush!" he said, hurriedly, and in a low voice; "hush, wretched man, -you will ruin us!" - -But Martial seemed not even to hear him. When he had finished his -reading: - -"Now, what do you think?" he demanded, looking the Marquis de -Courtornieu full in the face. - -"I am still unable to comprehend," said the old nobleman, coldly. - -Martial lifted his hand; everyone believed that he was about to strike -the man who had been his father-in-law only a few hours. - -"Very well! I comprehend!" he exclaimed. "I know now who that officer -was who entered the room in which I had deposited the ropes--and I -know what took him there." - -He crumbled the letter between his hands and threw it in M. de -Courtornieu's face, saying: - -"Here is your reward--coward!" - -Overwhelmed by this /denouement/ the marquis sank into an arm-chair, -and Martial, still holding Jean Lacheneur by the arm, was leaving the -room, when his young wife, wild with despair, tried to detain him. - -"You shall not go!" she exclaimed, intensely exasperated; "you shall -not! Where are you going? To rejoin the sister of the man, whom I now -recognize?" - -Beside himself, Martial pushed his wife roughly aside. - -"Wretch!" said he, "how dare you insult the noblest and purest of -women? Ah, well--yes--I am going to find Marie-Anne. Farewell!" - -And he passed on. - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - -The ledge of rock upon which Baron d'Escorval and Corporal Bavois -rested in their descent from the tower was very narrow. - -In the widest place it did not measure more than a yard and a half, -and its surface was uneven, cut by innumerable fissures and crevices, -and sloped suddenly at the edge. To stand there in the daytime, with -the wall of the tower behind one, and the precipice at one's feet, -would have been considered very imprudent. - -Of course, the task of lowering a man from this ledge, at dead of -night, was perilous in the extreme. - -Before allowing the baron to descend, honest Bavois took every -possible precaution to save himself from being dragged over the verge -of the precipice by the weight he would be obliged to sustain. - -He placed his crowbar firmly in a crevice of the rock, then bracing -his feet against the bar, he seated himself firmly, throwing his -shoulders well back, and it was only when he was sure of his position -that he said to the baron: - -"I am here and firmly fixed, comrade; now let yourself down." - -The sudden parting of the rope hurled the brave corporal rudely -against the tower wall, then he was thrown forward by the rebound. - -His unalterable /sang-froid/ was all that saved him. - -For more than a minute he hung suspended over the abyss into which the -baron had just fallen, and his hands clutched at the empty air. - -A hasty movement, and he would have fallen. - -But he possessed a marvellous power of will, which prevented him from -attempting any violent effort. Prudently, but with determined energy, -he screwed his feet and his knees into the crevices of the rock, -feeling with his hands for some point of support, and gradually -sinking to one side, he finally succeeded in dragging himself from the -verge of the precipice. - -It was time, for a cramp seized him with such violence that he was -obliged to sit down and rest for a moment. - -That the baron had been killed by his fall, Bavois did not doubt for -an instant. But this catastrophe did not produce much effect upon the -old soldier, who had seen so many comrades fall by his side on the -field of battle. - -What did /amaze/ him was the breaking of the rope--a rope so large -that one would have supposed it capable of sustaining the weight of -ten men like the baron. - -As he could not, by reason of the darkness, see the ruptured place, -Bavois felt it with his finger; and, to his inexpressible -astonishment, he found it smooth. No filaments, no rough bits of hemp, -as usual after a break; the surface was perfectly even. - -The corporal comprehended what Maurice had comprehended below. - -"The scoundrels have cut the rope!" he exclaimed, with a frightful -oath. - -And a recollection of what had happened three or four hours previous -arose in his mind. - -"This," he thought, "explains the noise which the poor baron heard in -the next room! And I said to him: 'Nonsense! it is a rat!'" - -Then he thought of a very simple method of verifying his conjectures. -He passed the cord about the crowbar and pulled it with all his -strength. It parted in three places. - -This discovery appalled him. - -A part of the rope had fallen with the unfortunate baron, and it was -evident that the remaining fragments tied together would not be long -enough to reach to the base of the rock. - -From this isolated ledge it was impossible to reach the ground upon -which the citadel was built. - -"You are in a fine fix, Corporal," he growled. - -Honest Bavois looked the situation full in the face, and saw that it -was desperate. - -"Well, Corporal, your jig is up!" he murmured, "At daybreak they will -find that the baron's cell is empty. They will poke their heads out of -the window, and they will see you here, like a stone saint upon his -pedestal. Naturally, you will be captured, tried, condemned; and you -will be led out to take your turn in the ditches. Ready! Aim! Fire! -And that will be the end of your story." - -He stopped short. A vague idea had entered his mind, which he felt -might possibly be his salvation. - -It came to him in touching the rope which he had used in his descent -from the prison to the ledge, and which, firmly attached to the bars, -hung down the side of the tower. - -"If you had that rope which hangs there useless, Corporal, you could -add it to these fragments, and then it would be long enough to carry -you to the foot of the rock. But how shall I obtain it? It is -certainly impossible to go back after it! and how can I pull it down -when it is so securely fastened to the bars?" - -He sought a way, found it, and pursued it, talking to himself all the -while as if there were two corporals; one prompt to conceive, the -other, a trifle stupid, to whom it was necessary to explain everything -in detail. - -"Attention, Corporal," said he. "You are going to knot these five -pieces of rope together and attach them to your waist; then you are -going to climb up to that window, hand over hand. Not an easy matter! -A carpeted staircase is preferable to that rope dangling there. But no -matter, you are not finical, Corporal! So you climb it, and here you -are in the cell again. What are you going to do? A mere nothing. You -are unfastening the cord attached to the bars; you will tie it to -this, and that will give you eighty feet of good strong rope. Then you -will pass the rope about one of the bars that remain intact; the rope -will thus be doubled; then you let yourself down again, and when you -are here, you have only to untie one of the knots and the rope is at -your service. Do you understand, Corporal?" - -The corporal did understand so well that in less than twenty minutes -he was back again upon the narrow shelf of rock, the difficult and -dangerous operation which he had planned accomplished. - -Not without a terrible effort; not without torn and bleeding hands and -knees. - -But he had succeeded in obtaining the rope, and now he was certain -that he could make his escape from his dangerous position. He laughed -gleefully, or rather with that chuckle which was habitual to him. - -Anxiety, then joy, had made him forget M. d'Escorval. At the thought -of him, he was smitten with remorse. - -"Poor man!" he murmured. "I shall succeed in saving my miserable life, -for which no one cares, but I was unable to save him. Undoubtedly, by -this time his friends have carried him away." - -As he uttered these words he was leaning over the abyss. He doubted -the evidence of his own senses when he saw a faint light moving here -and there in the depths below. - -What had happened? For something very extraordinary must have happened -to induce intelligent men like the baron's friends to display this -light, which, if observed from the citadel, would betray their -presence and ruin them. - -But Corporal Bavois's moments were too precious to be wasted in idle -conjectures. - -"Better go down on the double-quick," he said aloud, as if to spur on -his courage. "Come, my friend, spit on your hands and be off!" - -As he spoke the old soldier threw himself flat on his belly and -crawled slowly backward to the verge of the precipice. The spirit was -strong, but the flesh shuddered. To march upon a battery had always -been a mere pastime to the worthy corporal; but to face an unknown -peril, to suspend one's life upon a cord, was a different matter. - -Great drops of perspiration, caused by the horror of his situation, -stood out upon his brow when he felt that half his body had passed the -edge of the precipice, and that the slightest movement would now -launch him into space. - -He made this movement, murmuring: - -"If there is a God who watches over honest people let Him open His -eyes this instant!" - -The God of the just was watching. - -Bavois arrived at the end of his dangerous journey with torn and -bleeding hands, but safe. He fell like a mass of rock; and the -rudeness of the shock drew from him a groan resembling the roar of an -infuriated beast. - -For more than a minute he lay there upon the ground stunned and dizzy. - -When he rose two men seized him roughly. - -"Ah, no foolishness," he said quickly. "It is I, Bavois." - -This did not cause them to relax their hold. - -"How does it happen," demanded one, in a threatening tone, "that Baron -d'Escorval falls and you succeed in making the descent in safety a few -moments later?" - -The old soldier was too shrewd not to understand the whole import of -this insulting question. - -The sorrow and indignation aroused within him gave him strength to -free himself from the hands of his captors. - -"/Mille tonnerres/!" he exclaimed; "so I pass for a traitor, do I! No, -it is impossible--listen to me." - -Then rapidly, but with surprising clearness, he related all the -details of his escape, his despair, his perilous situation, and the -almost insurmountable obstacles which he had overcome. To hear was to -believe. - -The men--they were, of course, the retired army officers who had been -waiting for the baron--offered the honest corporal their hands, -sincerely sorry that they had wounded the feelings of a man who was so -worthy of their respect and gratitude. - -"You will forgive us, Corporal," they said, sadly. "Misery renders men -suspicious and unjust, and we are very unhappy." - -"No offence," he growled. "If I had trusted poor Monsieur d'Escorval, -he would be alive now." - -"The baron still breathes," said one of the officers. - -This was such astounding news that Bavois was utterly confounded for a -moment. - -"Ah! I will give my right hand, if necessary, to save him!" he -exclaimed, at last. - -"If it is possible to save him, he will be saved, my friend. That -worthy priest whom you see there, is an excellent physician. He is -examining Monsieur d'Escorval's wounds now. It was by his order that -we procured and lighted this candle, which may bring our enemies upon -us at any moment; but this is not a time for hesitation." - -Bavois looked with all his eyes, but from where he was standing he -could discover only a confused group of moving figures. - -"I would like to see the poor man," he said, sadly. - -"Come nearer, my good fellow; fear nothing!" - -He stepped forward, and by the flickering light of the candle which -Marie-Anne held, he saw a spectacle which moved him more than the -horrors of the bloodiest battle-field. - -The baron was lying upon the ground, his head supported on Mme. -d'Escorval's knee. - -His face was not disfigured; but he was pale as death itself, and his -eyes were closed. - -At intervals a convulsive shudder shook his frame, and a stream of -blood gushed from his mouth. His clothing was hacked--literally hacked -in pieces; and it was easy to see that his body had sustained many -frightful wounds, - -Kneeling beside the unconscious man, Abbe Midon, with admirable -dexterity, was stanching the blood and applying bandages which had -been torn from the linen of those present. - -Maurice and one of the officers were assisting him. "Ah! if I had my -hands on the scoundrel who cut the rope," cried the corporal, in a -passion of indignation; "but patience. I shall have him yet." - -"Do you know who it was?" - -"Only too well!" - -He said no more. The abbe had done all it was possible to do, and he -now lifted the wounded man a little higher on Mme. d'Escorval's knee. - -This change of position elicited a moan that betrayed the unfortunate -baron's intense sufferings. He opened his eyes and faltered a few -words--they were the first he had uttered. - -"Firmin!" he murmured, "Firmin!" It was the name of the baron's former -secretary, a man who had been absolutely devoted to his master, but -who had been dead for several years. It was evident that the baron's -mind was wandering. Still he had some vague idea of his terrible -situation, for in a stifled, almost inaudible voice, he added: - -"Oh! how I suffer! Firmin, I will not fall into the hands of the -Marquis de Courtornieu alive. You shall kill me rather--do you hear -me? I command it." - -This was all; then his eyes closed again, and his head fell back a -dead weight. One would have supposed that he had yielded up his last -sigh. - -Such was the opinion of the officers; and it was with poignant anxiety -they drew the abbe a little aside. - -"Is it all over?" they asked. "Is there any hope?" - -The priest sadly shook his head, and pointing to heaven: - -"My hope is in God!" he said, reverently. - -The hour, the place, the terrible catastrophe, the present danger, the -threatening future, all combined to lend a deep solemnity to the words -of the priest. - -So profound was the impression that, for more than a minute, these -men, familiar with peril and scenes of horror, stood in awed silence. - -Maurice, who approached, followed by Corporal Bavois, brought them -back to the exigencies of the present. - -"Ought we not to make haste and carry away my father?" he asked. "Must -we not be in Piedmont before evening?" - -"Yes!" exclaimed the officers, "let us start at once." - -But the priest did not move, and in a despondent voice, he said: - -"To make any attempt to carry Monsieur d'Escorval across the frontier -in his present condition would cost him his life." - -This seemed so inevitably a death-warrant for them all, that they -shuddered. - -"My God! what shall we do?" faltered Maurice. "What course shall we -pursue?" - -Not a voice replied. It was clear that they hoped for salvation -through the priest alone. - -He was lost in thought, and it was some time before he spoke. - -"About an hour's walk from here," he said, at last, "beyond the Croix -d'Arcy, is the hut of a peasant upon whom I can rely. His name is -Poignot; and he was formerly in Monsieur Lacheneur's employ. With the -assistance of his three sons, he now tills quite a large farm. We must -procure a litter and carry Monsieur d'Escorval to the house of this -honest peasant." - -"What, Monsieur," interrupted one of the officers, "you wish us to -procure a litter at this hour of the night, and in this neighborhood?" - -"It must be done." - -"But, will it not awaken suspicion?" - -"Most assuredly." - -"The Montaignac police will follow us." - -"I am certain of it." - -"The baron will be recaptured!" - -"No." - -The abbe spoke in the tone of a man who, by virtue of assuming all the -responsibility, feels that he has a right to be obeyed. - -"When the baron has been conveyed to Poignot's house," he continued, -"one of you gentlemen will take the wounded man's place upon the -litter; the others will carry him, and the party will remain together -until it has reached Piedmontese territory. Then you will separate and -pretend to conceal yourselves, but do it in such a way that you are -seen everywhere." All present comprehended the priest's simple plan. - -They were to throw the emissaries sent by the Duc de Sairmeuse and the -Marquis de Courtornieu off the track; and at the very moment it was -apparently proven that the baron was in the mountains, he would be -safe in Poignot's house. - -"One word more," added the priest. "It will be necessary to make the -/cortege/ which accompanies the pretended baron resemble as much as -possible the little party that would be likely to attend Monsieur -d'Escorval. Mademoiselle Lacheneur will accompany you; Maurice also. -People know that I would not leave the baron, who is my friend; my -priestly robe would attract attention; one of you must assume it. God -will forgive this deception on account of its worthy motive." - -It was now necessary to procure the litter; and the officers were -trying to decide where they should go to obtain it, when Corporal -Bavois interrupted them. - -"Give yourselves no uneasiness," he remarked; "I know an inn not far -from here where I can procure one." - -He departed on the run, and five minutes later reappeared with a small -litter, a thin mattress, and a coverlid. He had thought of everything. - -The wounded man was lifted carefully and placed upon the mattress. - -A long and difficult operation which, in spite of extreme caution, -drew many terrible groans from the baron. - -When all was ready, each officer took an end of the litter, and the -little procession, headed by the abbe, started on its way. They were -obliged to proceed slowly on account of the suffering which the least -jolting inflicted upon the baron. Still they made some progress, and -by daybreak they were about half way to Poignot's house. - -It was then that they met some peasants going to their daily toil. -Both men and women paused to look at them, and when the little -/cortege/ had passed they still stood gazing curiously after these -people who were apparently carrying a dead body. - -The priest did not seem to trouble himself in regard to these -encounters; at least, he made no attempt to avoid them. - -But he did seem anxious and cautious when, after a three hours' march, -they came in sight of Poignot's cottage. - -Fortunately there was a little grove not far from the house. The abbe -made the party enter it, recommending the strictest prudence, while he -went on in advance to confer with this man, upon whose decision the -safety of the whole party depended. - -As the priest approached the house, a small, thin man, with gray hair -and a sunburned face emerged from the stable. - -It was Father Poignot. - -"What! is this you, Monsieur le Cure!" he exclaimed, delightedly. -"Heavens! how pleased my wife will be. We have a great favor to ask of -you----" - -And then, without giving the abbe an opportunity to open his lips, he -began to tell him his perplexities. The night of the revolt he had -given shelter to a poor man who had received an ugly sword-thrust. -Neither his wife nor himself knew how to dress the wound, and he dared -not call in a physician. - -"And this wounded man," he added, "is Jean Lacheneur, the son of my -former employer." A terrible anxiety seized the priest's heart. - -Would this man, who had already given an asylum to one wounded -conspirator, consent to receive another? - -The abbe's voice trembled as he made known his petition. - -The farmer turned very pale and shook his head gravely, while the -priest was speaking. When the abbe had finished: - -"Do you know, sir," he asked, coldly, "that I incur a great risk by -converting my house into a hospital for these rebels?" - -The abbe dared not answer. - -"They told me," Father Poignot continued, "that I was a coward, -because /I/ would not take part in the revolt. Such was not my -opinion. Now I choose to shelter these wounded men--I shelter them. In -my opinion, it requires quite as much courage as it does to go and -fight." - -"Ah! you are a brave man!" cried the abbe. - -"I know that very well! Bring Monsieur d'Escorval. There is no one -here but my wife and boys--no one will betray him!" - -A half hour later the baron was lying in a small loft, where Jean -Lacheneur was already installed. - -From the window, Abbe Midon and Mme. d'Escorval watched the little -/cortege/, organized for the purpose of deceiving the Duc de -Sairmeuse's spies, as it moved rapidly away. - -Corporal Bavois, with his head bound up with bloodstained linen, had -taken the baron's place upon the litter. - -This was one of the troubled epochs in history that try men's souls. -There is no chance for hypocrisy; each man stands revealed in his -grandeur, or in his pettiness of soul. - -Certainly much cowardice was displayed during the early days of the -second Restoration; but many deeds of sublime courage and devotion -were performed. - -These officers who befriended Mme. d'Escorval and Maurice--who lent -their aid to the abbe--knew the baron only by name and reputation. - -It was sufficient for them to know that he was the friend of their -former ruler--the man whom they had made their idol, and they rejoiced -with all their hearts when they saw M. d'Escorval reposing under -Father Poignot's roof in comparative security. - -After this, their task, which consisted in misleading the government -emissaries, seemed to them mere child's play. - -But all these precautions were unnecessary. Public sentiment had -declared itself in an unmistakable manner, and it was evident that -Lacheneur's hopes had not been without some foundation. - -The police discovered nothing, not so much as a single detail of the -escape. They did not even hear of the little party that had travelled -nearly three leagues in the full light of day, bearing a wounded man -upon a litter. - -Among the two thousand peasants who believed that this wounded man was -Baron d'Escorval, there was not one who turned informer or let drop an -indiscreet word. - -But on approaching the frontier, which they knew to be strictly -guarded, the fugitives became even more cautious. - -They waited until nightfall before presenting themselves at a lonely -inn, where they hoped to procure a guide to lead them through the -defiles of the mountains. - -Frightful news awaited them there. The innkeeper informed them of the -bloody massacre at Montaignac. - -With tears rolling down his cheeks, he related the details of the -execution, which he had heard from an eyewitness. - -Fortunately, or unfortunately, he knew nothing of M. d'Escorval's -flight or of M. Lacheneur's arrest. - -But he was well acquainted with Chanlouineau, and he was inconsolable -over the death of that "handsome young fellow, the best farmer in the -country." - -The officers, who had left the litter a short distance from the inn, -decided that they could confide at least a part of their secret to -this man. - -"We are carrying one of our wounded comrades," they said to him. "Can -you guide us across the frontier to-night?" - -The innkeeper replied that he would do so very willingly, that he -would promise to take them safely past the military posts; but that he -would not think of going upon the mountain before the moon rose. - -By midnight the fugitives were /en route/; by daybreak they set foot -on Piedmont territory. - -They had dismissed their guide some time before. They now proceeded to -break the litter in pieces; and handful by handful they cast the wool -of the mattress to the wind. - -"Our task is accomplished," the officer said to Maurice. "We will now -return to France. May God protect you! Farewell!" - -It was with tears in his eyes that Maurice saw these brave men, who -had just saved his father's life, depart. Now he was the sole -protector of Marie-Anne, who, pale and overcome with fatigue and -emotion, trembled on his arm. - -But no--Corporal Bavois still lingered by his side. - -"And you, my friend," he asked, sadly, "what are you going to do?" - -"Follow you," replied the old soldier. "I have a right to a home with -you; that was agreed between your father and myself! So do not hurry, -the young lady does not seem well, and I see the village only a short -distance away." - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI - -Essentially a woman in grace and beauty, as well as in devotion and -tenderness, Marie-Anne was capable of a virile bravery. Her energy and -her coolness during those trying days had been the admiration and the -astonishment of all around her. - -But human endurance has its limits. Always after excessive efforts -comes a moment when the shrinking flesh fails the firmest will. - -When Marie-Anne tried to begin her journey anew, she found that her -strength was exhausted; her swollen feet would no longer sustain her, -her limbs sank under her, her head whirled, and an intense freezing -coldness crept over her heart. - -Maurice and the old soldier were obliged to support her, almost carry -her. Fortunately they were not far from the village, whose church- -tower they had discerned through the gray mists of morning. - -Soon the fugitives could distinguish the houses on the outskirts of -the town. The corporal suddenly stopped short with an oath. - -"/Mille tonnerres/!" he exclaimed; "and my uniform! To enter the -village in this rig would excite suspicion at once; before we had a -chance to sit down, the Piedmontese gendarmes would arrest us." - -He reflected for a moment, twirling his mustache furiously; then, in a -tone that would have made a passerby tremble, he said: - -"All things are fair in love and war. The next peasant who passes--" - -"But I have money," interrupted Maurice, unbuckling a belt filled with -gold, which he had put on under his clothing on the night of the -revolt. - -"Eh! we are fortunate!" cried Bavois. "Give me some, and I will soon -find some shop in the suburbs where I can purchase a change of -clothing." He departed; but it was not long before he reappeared, -transformed by a peasant's costume, which fitted him perfectly. His -small, thin face was almost hidden beneath an immense broad-brimmed -hat. - -"Now, steady, forward, march!" he said to Maurice and Marie-Anne, who -scarcely recognized him in this disguise. - -The town, which they soon reached, was called Saliente. They read the -name upon a guide-post. - -The fourth house after entering the place was a hostelry, the -Traveller's Rest. They entered it, and ordered the hostess to take the -young lady to a room and to assist her in disrobing. - -The order was obeyed, and Maurice and the corporal went into the -dining-room and ordered something to eat. - -The desired refreshments were served, but the glances cast upon the -guests were by no means friendly. It was evident that they were -regarded with suspicion. - -A large man, who was apparently the proprietor of the house, hovered -around them, and at last embraced a favorable opportunity to ask their -names. - -"My name is Dubois," replied Maurice, without the slightest -hesitation. "I am travelling on business, and this man here is my -farmer." - -These replies seemed to reassure the host a little. - -"And what is your business?" he inquired. - -"I came into this land of inquisitive people to buy mules," laughed -Maurice, striking his belt of money. - -On hearing the jingle of the coin the man lifted his cap -deferentially. Raising mules was the chief industry of the country. -This bourgeois was very young, but he had a well-filled purse, and -that was enough. - -"You will excuse me," resumed the host, in quite a different tone. -"You see, we are obliged to be very careful. There has been some -trouble in Montaignac." - -The imminence of the peril and the responsibility devolving upon him, -gave Maurice an assurance unusual to him; and it was in the most -careless, off-hand manner possible that he concocted a quite plausible -story to explain his early arrival on foot accompanied by a sick wife. -He congratulated himself upon his address, but the old corporal was -far from satisfied. - -"We are too near the frontier to bivouac here," he grumbled. "As soon -as the young lady is on her feet again we must hurry on." - -He believed, and Maurice hoped, that twenty-four hours of rest would -restore Marie-Anne. - -They were mistaken. The very springs of life in her existence seemed -to have been drained dry. She did not appear to suffer, but she -remained in a death-like torpor, from which nothing could arouse her. -They spoke to her but she made no response. Did she hear? did she -comprehend? It was extremely doubtful. - -By rare good fortune the mother of the proprietor proved to be a good, -kind-hearted old woman, who would not leave the bedside of Marie- -Anne--of Mme. Dubois, as she was called at the Traveller's Rest. - -It was not until the evening of the third day that they heard Marie- -Anne utter a word. - -"Poor girl!" she sighed; "poor, wretched girl!" - -It was of herself that she spoke. - -By a phenomenon not very unusual after a crisis in which reason has -been temporarily obscured, it seemed to her that it was someone else -who had been the victim of all the misfortunes, whose recollections -gradually returned to her like the memory of a painful dream. - -What strange and terrible events had taken place since that August -Sabbath, when, on leaving the church with her father, she heard of the -arrival of the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -And that was only eight months ago. - -What a difference between those days when she lived happy and envied -in that beautiful Chateau de Sairmeuse, of which she believed herself -the mistress, and at the present time, when she found herself lying in -the comfortless room of a miserable country inn, attended by an old -woman whom she did not know, and with no other protection than that of -an old soldier--a deserter, whose life was in constant danger--and -that of her proscribed lover. - -From this total wreck of her cherished ambitions, of her hopes, of her -fortune, of her happiness, and of her future, she had not even saved -her honor. - -But was she alone responsible? Who had imposed upon her the odious -role which she had played with Maurice, Martial, and Chanlouineau? - -As this last name darted through her mind, the scene in the prison- -cell rose suddenly and vividly before her. - -Chanlouineau had given her a letter, saying as he did so: - -"You will read this when I am no more." - -She might read it now that he had fallen beneath the bullets of the -soldiery. But what had become of it? From the moment that he gave it -to her until now she had not once thought of it. - -She raised herself in bed, and in an imperious voice: - -"My dress," she said to the old nurse, seated beside her; "give me my -dress." - -The woman obeyed; with an eager hand Marie-Anne examined the pocket. - -She uttered an exclamation of joy on finding the letter there. - -She opened it, read it slowly twice, then, sinking back on her -pillows, she burst into tears. - -Maurice anxiously approached her. - -"What is the matter?" he inquired anxiously. - -She handed him the letter, saying: "Read." - -Chanlouineau was only a poor peasant. His entire education had been -derived from an old country pedagogue, whose school he attended for -three winters, and who troubled himself much less about the progress -of his students than about the size of the books which they carried to -and from the school. - -This letter, which was written upon the commonest kind of paper, was -sealed with a huge wafer, as large as a two-sou piece, which he had -purchased from a grocer in Sairmeuse. - -The chirography was labored, heavy and trembling; it betrayed the -stiff hand of a man more accustomed to guiding the plough than the -pen. - -The lines zigzagged toward the top or toward the bottom of the page, -and faults of orthography were everywhere apparent. - -But if the writing was that of a vulgar peasant, the thoughts it -expressed were worthy of the noblest, the proudest in the land. - -This was the letter which Chanlouineau had written, probably on the -eve of the insurrection: - - - "Marie-Anne--The outbreak is at hand. Whether it succeeds, or - whether it fails, I shall die. That was decided on the day when I - learned that you could marry none other than Maurice d'Escorval. - - "But the conspiracy will not succeed; and I understand your father - well enough to know that he will not survive its defeat. And if - Maurice and your brother should both be killed, what would become - of you? Oh, my God, would you not be reduced to beggary? - - "The thought has haunted me continually. I have reflected, and this - is my last will: - - "I give and bequeath to you all my property, all that I possess: - - "My house, the Borderie, with the gardens and vineyards pertaining - thereto, the woodland and the pastures of Berarde, and five lots - of land at Valrollier. - - "You will find an inventory of this property, and of my other - possessions which I devise to you, deposited with the lawyer at - Sairmeuse. - - "You can accept this bequest without fear; for, having no parents, - my control over my property is absolute. - - "If you do not wish to remain in France, this property will sell - for at least forty thousand francs. - - "But it would, it seems to me, be better for you to remain in your - own country. The house on the Borderie is comfortable and - convenient, since I have had it divided into three rooms and - thoroughly repaired. - - "Upstairs is a room that has been fitted up by the best upholsterer - in Montaignac. I intended it for you. Beneath the hearth-stone in - this room you will find a box containing three hundred and twenty- - seven louis d'or and one hundred and forty-six livres. - - "If you refuse this gift, it will be because you scorn me even - after I am dead. Accept it, if not for your own sake, for the sake - of--I dare not write it; but you will understand my meaning only - too well. - - "If Maurice is not killed, and I shall try my best to stand between - him and danger, he will marry you. Then you will, perhaps, be - obliged to ask his consent in order to accept my gift. I hope that - he will not refuse it. One is not jealous of the dead! - - "Besides, he knows well that you have scarcely vouchsafed a glance - to the poor peasant who has loved you so much. - - "Do not be offended at anything I have said, I am in such agony - that I cannot weigh my words. - - "Adieu, adieu, Marie-Anne. - - "Chanlouineau." - - -Maurice also read twice, before handing it back, this letter whose -every word palpitated with sublime passion. - -He was silent for a moment, then, in a husky voice, he said: - -"You cannot refuse; it would be wrong." - -His emotion was so great that he could not conceal it, and he left the -room. - -He was overwhelmed by the grandeur of soul exhibited by this peasant, -who, after saving the life of his successful rival at the Croix -d'Arcy, had wrested Baron d'Escorval from the hands of his -executioners, and who had never allowed a complaint nor a reproach to -escape his lips, and whose protection over the woman he adored -extended even from beyond the grave. - -In comparison with this obscure hero, Maurice felt himself -insignificant, mediocre, unworthy. - -Good God! what if this comparison should arise in Marie-Anne's mind as -well? How could he compete with the memory of such nobility of soul -and heroic self-sacrifice? - -Chanlouineau was mistaken; one, may, perhaps, be jealous of the dead! - -But Maurice took good care to conceal this poignant anxiety and these -sorrowful thoughts, and during the days that followed, he presented -himself in Marie-Anne's room with a calm, even cheerful face. - -For she, unfortunately, was not restored to health. She had recovered -the full possession of her mental faculties, but her strength had not -yet returned. She was still unable to sit up; and Maurice was forced -to relinquish all thought of quitting Saliente, though he felt the -earth burn beneath his feet. - -This persistent weakness began to astonish the old nurse. Her faith in -herbs, gathered by the light of the moon, was considerably shaken. - -Honest Bavois was the first to suggest the idea of consulting a -physician whom he had found in this land of savages. - -Yes; he had found a really skilful physician in the neighborhood, a -man of superior ability. Attached at one time to the beautiful court -of Prince Eugene, he had been obliged to flee from Milan, and had -taken refuge in this secluded spot. - -This physician was summoned, and promptly made his appearance. He was -one of those men whose age it is impossible to determine. His past, -whatever it might have been, had wrought deep furrows on his brow, and -his glance was as keen and piercing as his lancet. - -After visiting the sick-room, he drew Maurice aside. - -"Is this young lady really your wife, Monsieur--Dubois?" - -He hesitated so strangely over this name, Dubois, that Maurice felt -his face crimson to the roots of his hair. - -"I do not understand your question," he retorted, angrily. - -"I beg your pardon, of course, but you seem very young for a married -man, and your hands are too soft to belong to a farmer. And when I -spoke to this young lady of her husband, she blushed scarlet. The man -who accompanies you has terrible mustaches for a farmer. Besides, you -must remember that there have been troubles across the frontier at -Montaignac." - -From crimson Maurice had turned white. He felt that he was discovered ---that he was in this man's power. - -What should he do? - -What good would denial do? - -He reflected that confession is sometimes the height of prudence, and -that extreme confidence often meets with sympathy and protection; so, -in a voice trembling with anxiety, he said: - -"You are not mistaken, Monsieur. My friend and myself both are -fugitives, undoubtedly condemned to death in France at this moment." - -And without giving the doctor time to respond, he narrated the -terrible events that had happened at Sairmeuse, and the history of his -unfortunate love-affair. - -He omitted nothing. He neither concealed his own name nor that of -Marie-Anne. - -When his recital was completed, the physician pressed his hand. - -"It is just as I supposed," said he. "Believe me, Monsieur--Dubois, -you must not tarry here. What I have discovered others will discover. -And above all, do not warn the hotel-keeper of your departure. He has -not been deceived by your explanation. Self-interest alone has kept -his mouth closed. He has seen your money, and so long as you spend it -at his house he will hold his tongue; but if he discovers that you are -going away, he will probably betray you." - -"Ah! sir, but how is it possible for us to leave this place?" - -"In two days the young lady will be on her feet again," interrupted -the physician. "And take my advice. At the next village, stop and give -your name to Mademoiselle Lacheneur." - -"Ah! sir," Maurice exclaimed; "have you considered the advice you -offer me? How can I, a proscribed man--a man condemned to death perhaps ---how can I obtain the necessary papers?" - -The physician shook his head. - -"Excuse me, you are no longer in France, Monsieur d'Escorval, you are -in Piedmont." - -"Another difficulty!" - -"No, because in this country, people marry, or at least they can -marry, without all the formalities that cause you so much anxiety." - -"Is it possible?" Maurice exclaimed. - -"Yes, if you can find a priest who will consent to your union, -inscribe your name upon his parish register and give you a -certificate, you will be so indissolubly united, Mademoiselle -Lacheneur and you, that the court of Rome would never grant you a -divorce." - -To suspect the truth of these affirmations was difficult, and yet -Maurice doubted still. - -"So, sir," he said, hesitatingly, "in case I was able to find a -priest----" - -The physician was silent. One might have supposed he was blaming -himself for meddling with matters that did not concern him. - -Then, almost brusquely, he said: - -"Listen to me attentively, Monsieur d'Escorval. I am about to take my -leave, but before I go, I shall take occasion to recommend a good deal -of exercise for the sick lady--I will do this before your host. -Consequently, day after to-morrow, Wednesday, you will hire mules, and -you, Mademoiselle Lacheneur and your old friend, the soldier, will -leave the hotel as if going on a pleasure excursion. You will push on -to Vigano, three leagues from here, where I live. I will take you to a -priest, one of my friends; and he, upon my recommendation, will -perform the marriage ceremony. Now reflect, shall I expect you on -Wednesday?" - -"Oh, yes, yes, Monsieur. How can I ever thank you?" - -"By not thanking me at all. See, here is the innkeeper; you are -Monsieur Dubois, again." - -Maurice was intoxicated with joy. He understood the irregularity of -such a marriage, but he knew it would reassure Marie-Anne's troubled -conscience. Poor girl! she was suffering an agony of remorse. It was -that which was killing her. - -He did not speak to her on the subject, however, fearing something -might occur to interfere with the project. - -But the old physician had not given his word lightly, and everything -took place as he had promised. - -The priest at Vigano blessed the marriage of Maurice d'Escorval and of -Marie-Anne Lacheneur, and after inscribing their names upon the church -register, he gave them a certificate, upon which the physician and -Corporal Bavois figured as witnesses. - -That same evening the mules were sent back to Saliente, and the -fugitives resumed their journey. - -Abbe Midon had counselled them to reach Turin as quickly as possible. - -"It is a large city," he said; "you will be lost in the crowd. I have -more than one friend there, whose name and address are upon this -paper. Go to them, and in that way I will try to send you news of your -father." - -So it was toward Turin that Maurice, Marie-Anne, and Corporal Bavois -directed their steps. - -But their progress was very slow, for they were obliged to avoid -frequented roads, and renounce the ordinary modes of transportation. - -The fatigue of travel, instead of exhausting Marie-Anne, seemed to -revive her. After five or six days the color came back to her cheek -and her strength returned. - -"Fate seems to have relaxed her rigor," said Maurice, one day. "Who -knows what compensations the future may have in store for us!" - -No, fate had not taken pity upon them; it was only a short respite -granted by destiny. One lovely April morning the fugitives stopped for -breakfast at an inn on the outskirts of a large city. - -Maurice having finished his repast was just leaving the table to -settle with the hostess, when a despairing cry arrested him. - -Marie-Anne, deadly pale, and with eyes staring wildly at a paper which -she held in her hand, exclaimed in frenzied tones: - -"Here! Maurice! Look!" - -It was a French journal about a fortnight old, which had probably been -left there by some traveller. - -Maurice seized it and read: - - - "Yesterday, Lacheneur, the leader of the revolt in Montaignac, was - executed. The miserable mischief-maker exhibited upon the scaffold - the audacity for which he has always been famous." - - -"My father has been put to death!" cried Marie-Anne, "and I--his -daughter--was not there to receive his last farewell!" - -She rose, and in an imperious voice: - -"I will go no farther," she said; "we must turn back now without -losing an instant. I wish to return to France." - -To return to France was to expose themselves to frightful peril. What -good would it do? Was not the misfortune irreparable? - -So Corporal Bavois suggested, very timidly. The old soldier trembled -at the thought that they might suspect him of being afraid. - -But Maurice would not listen. - -He shuddered. It seemed to him that Baron d'Escorval must have been -discovered and arrested at the same time that Lacheneur was captured. - -"Yes, let us start at once on our return!" he exclaimed. - -They immediately procured a carriage to convey them to the frontier. -One important question, however, remained to be decided. Should -Maurice and Marie-Anne make their marriage public? She wished to do -so, but Maurice entreated her, with tears in his eyes, to conceal it. - -"Our marriage certificate will not silence the evil disposed," said -he. "Let us keep our secret for the present. We shall doubtless remain -in France only a few days." - -Unfortunately, Marie-Anne yielded. - -"Since you wish it," said she, "I will obey you. No one shall know -it." - -The next day, which was the 14th of April, the fugitives at nightfall -reached Father Poignot's house. - -Maurice and Corporal Bavois were disguised as peasants. - -The old soldier had made one sacrifice that drew tears from his eyes; -he had shaved off his mustache. - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII - -When Abbe Midon and Martial de Sairmeuse held their conference, to -discuss and to decide upon the arrangements for the Baron d'Escorval's -escape, a difficulty presented itself which threatened to break off -the negotiation. - -"Return my letter," said Martial, "and I will save the baron." - -"Save the baron," replied the abbe, "and your letter shall be -returned." - -But Martial's was one of those natures which become exasperated by the -least shadow of suspicion. - -The idea that anyone should suppose him influenced by threats, when in -reality, he had yielded only to Marie-Anne's tears, angered him beyond -endurance. - -"These are my last words, Monsieur," he said, emphatically. "Restore -to me, now, this instant, the letter which was obtained from me by -Chanlouineau's ruse, and I swear to you, by the honor of my name, that -all which it is possible for any human being to do to save the baron, -I will do. If you distrust my word, good-evening." - -The situation was desperate, the danger imminent, the time limited; -Martial's tone betrayed an inflexible determination. - -The abbe could not hesitate. He drew the letter from his pocket and -handing it to Martial: - -"Here it is, Monsieur," he said, solemnly, "remember that you have -pledged the honor of your name." - -"I will remember it, Monsieur le Cure. Go and obtain the ropes." - -The abbe's sorrow and amazement were intense, when, after the baron's -terrible fall, Maurice announced that the cord had been cut. And yet -he could not make up his mind that Martial was guilty of the execrable -act. It betrayed a depth of duplicity and hypocrisy which is rarely -found in men under twenty-five years of age. But no one suspected his -secret thoughts. It was with the most unalterable /sang-froid/ that he -dressed the baron's wounds and made arrangements for the flight. Not -until he saw M. d'Escorval installed in Poignot's house did he breathe -freely. - -The fact that the baron had been able to endure the journey, proved -that in this poor maimed body remained a power of vitality for which -the priest had not dared to hope. - -Some way must now be discovered to procure the surgical instruments -and the remedies which the condition of the wounded man demanded. - -But where and how could he procure them? - -The police kept a close watch over the physicians and druggists in -Montaignac, in the hope of discovering the wounded conspirators -through them. - -But the cure, who had been for ten years physician and surgeon for the -poor of his parish, had an almost complete set of surgical instruments -and a well-filled medicine-chest. - -"This evening," said he, "I will obtain what is needful." - -When night came, he put on a long blue blouse, shaded his face by an -immense slouch hat, and directed his steps toward Sairmeuse. - -Not a light was visible through the windows of the presbytery; -Bibiane, the old housekeeper, must have gone out to gossip with some -of the neighbors. - -The priest effected an entrance into the house, which had once been -his, by forcing the lock of the door opening on the garden; he found -the requisite articles, and retired without having been discovered. - -That night the abbe hazarded a cruel but indispensable operation. His -heart trembled, but not the hand that held the knife, although he had -never before attempted so difficult a task. - -"It is not upon my weak powers that I rely: I have placed my trust in -One who is on High." - -His faith was rewarded. Three days later the wounded man, after quite -a comfortable night, seemed to regain consciousness. - -His first glance was for his devoted wife, who was seated by his -bedside; his first word was for his son. - -"Maurice?" he asked. - -"Is in safety," replied the abbe. "He must be on the way to Turin." - -M. d'Escorval's lips moved as if he were murmuring a prayer; then, in -a feeble voice: - -"We owe you a debt of gratitude which we can never pay," he murmured, -"for I think I shall pull through." - -He did "pull through," but not without terrible suffering, not without -difficulties that made those around him tremble with anxiety. Jean -Lacheneur, more fortunate, was on his feet by the end of the week. - -Forty days had passed, when one evening--it was the 17th of April-- -while the abbe was reading a newspaper to the baron, the door gently -opened and one of the Poignot boys put in his head, then quickly -withdrew it. - -The priest finished the paragraph, laid down the paper, and quietly -went out. - -"What is it?" he inquired of the young man. - -"Ah! Monsieur, Monsieur Maurice, Mademoiselle Lacheneur and the old -corporal have just arrived; they wish to come up." - -In three bounds the abbe descended the narrow staircase. - -"Unfortunate creatures!" he exclaimed, addressing the three imprudent -travellers, "what has induced you to return here?" - -Then turning to Maurice: - -"Is it not enough that /for/ you, and /through/ you, your father has -nearly died? Are you afraid he will not be recaptured, that you return -here to set the enemies upon his track? Depart!" - -The poor boy, quite overwhelmed, faltered his excuse. Uncertainty -seemed to him worse than death; he had heard of M. Lacheneur's -execution; he had not reflected, he would go at once; he asked only to -see his father and to embrace his mother. - -The priest was inflexible. - -"The slightest emotion might kill your father," he declared; "and to -tell your mother of your return, and of the dangers to which you have -foolishly exposed yourself, would cause her untold tortures. Go at -once. Cross the frontier again this very night." - -Jean Lacheneur, who had witnessed this scene, now approached. - -"It is time for me to depart," said he, "and I entreat you to care for -my sister, the place for her is here, not upon the highways." - -The abbe deliberated for a moment, then he said, brusquely: - -"So be it; but go at once; your name is not upon the proscribed list. -You will not be pursued." - -Thus, suddenly separated from his wife, Maurice wished to confer with -her, to give her some parting advice; but the abbe did not allow him -an opportunity. - -"Go, go at once," he insisted. "Farewell!" - -The good abbe was too hasty. - -Just when Maurice stood sorely in need of wise counsel, he was thus -delivered over to the influence of Jean Lacheneur's furious hatred. As -soon as they were outside: - -"This," exclaimed Jean, "is the work of the Sairmeuse and the Marquis -de Courtornieu! I do not even know where they have thrown the body of -my murdered parent; you cannot even embrace the father who has been -traitorously assassinated by them!" - -He laughed a harsh, discordant, terrible laugh, and continued: - -"And yet, if we ascended that hill, we could see the Chateau de -Sairmeuse in the distance, brightly illuminated. They are celebrating -the marriage of Martial de Sairmeuse and Blanche de Courtornieu. /We/ -are homeless wanderers without friends, and without a shelter for our -heads: /they/ are feasting and making merry." - -Less than this would have sufficed to rekindle the wrath of Maurice. -He forgot everything in saying to himself that to disturb this fete by -his appearance would be a vengeance worthy of him. - -"I will go and challenge Martial now, on the instant, in the presence -of the revellers," he exclaimed. - -But Jean interrupted him. - -"No, not that! They are cowards; they would arrest you. Write; I will -be the bearer of the letter." - -Corporal Bavois heard them; but he did not oppose their folly. He -thought it all perfectly natural, under the circumstances, and -esteemed them the more for their rashness. - -Forgetful of prudence they entered the first shop, and the challenge -was written and confided to Jean Lacheneur. - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - -To disturb the merrymaking at the Chateau de Sairmeuse; to change the -joy of the bridal-day into sadness; to cast a gloom over the nuptials -of Martial and Mlle. Blanche de Courtornieu. - -This, in truth, was all that Jean Lacheneur hoped to do. - -As for believing that Martial, triumphant and happy, would accept the -challenge of Maurice, a miserable outlaw, he did not believe it. - -While awaiting Martial in the vestibule of the chateau, he armed -himself against the scorn and sneers which he would probably receive -from this haughty nobleman whom he had come to insult. - -But Martial's kindly greeting had disconcerted him a little. - -But he was reassured when he saw the terrible effect produced upon the -marquis by the insulting letter. - -"We have cut him to the quick," he thought. - -When Martial seized him by the arm and led him upstairs, he made no -resistance. - -While they traversed the brightly lighted drawing-rooms and passed -through the crowd of astonished guests, Jean thought neither of his -heavy shoes nor of his peasant dress. - -Breathless with anxiety, he wondered what was to come. - -He soon knew. - -Leaning against the gilded door-post, he witnessed the terrible scene -in the little salon. - -He saw Martial de Sairmeuse, frantic with passion, cast into the face -of his father-in-law Maurice d'Escorval's letter. - -One might have supposed that all this did not affect him in the least, -he stood so cold and unmoved, with compressed lips and downcast eyes; -but appearances were deceitful. His heart throbbed with wild -exultation; and if he cast down his eyes, it was only to conceal the -joy that sparkled there. - -He had not hoped for so prompt and so terrible a revenge. - -Nor was this all. - -After brutally repulsing Blanche, his newly wedded wife, who attempted -to detain him, Martial again seized Jean Lacheneur's arm. - -"Now," said he, "follow me!" - -Jean followed him still without a word. - -They again crossed the grand hall, but instead of going to the -vestibule Martial took a candle that was burning upon a side table, -and opened a little door leading to the private staircase. - -"Where are you taking me?" inquired Jean Lacheneur. - -Martial, who had already ascended two or three steps, turned. - -"Are you afraid?" he asked. - -The other shrugged his shoulders, and coldly replied: - -"If you put it in that way, let us go on." - -They entered the room which Martial had occupied since taking -possession of the chateau. It was the same room that had once belonged -to Jean Lacheneur; and nothing had been changed. He recognized the -brightly flowered curtains, the figures on the carpet, and even an old -arm-chair where he had read many a novel in secret. - -Martial hastened to a small writing-desk, and took from it a paper -which he slipped into his pocket. - -"Now," said he, "let us go. We must avoid another scene. My father and ---my wife will be seeking me. I will explain when we are outside." - -They hastily descended the staircase, passed through the gardens, and -soon reached the long avenue. - -Then Jean Lacheneur suddenly paused. - -"To come so far for a simple yes or no is, I think, unnecessary," said -he. "Have you decided? What answer am I to give Maurice d'Escorval?" - -"Nothing! You will take me to him. I must see him and speak with him -in order to justify myself. Let us proceed!" - -But Jean Lacheneur did not move. - -"What you ask is impossible!" he replied. - -"Why?" - -"Because Maurice is pursued. If he is captured, he will be tried and -undoubtedly condemned to death. He is now in a safe retreat, and I -have no right to disclose it." - -Maurice's safe retreat was, in fact, only a neighboring wood, where in -company with the corporal, he was awaiting Jean's return. - -But Jean could not resist the temptation to make this response, which -was far more insulting than if he had simply said: - -"We fear informers!" - -Strange as it may appear to one who knew Martial's proud and violent -nature, he did not resent the insult. - -"So you distrust me!" he said, sadly. - -Jean Lacheneur was silent--another insult. - -"But," insisted Martial, "after what you have just seen and heard you -can no longer suspect me of having cut the ropes which I carried to -the baron." - -"No! I am convinced that you are innocent of that atrocious act." - -"You saw how I punished the man who dared to compromise the honor of -the name of Sairmeuse. And this man is the father of the young girl -whom I wedded to-day." - -"I have seen all this; but I must still reply: 'Impossible.'" - -Jean was amazed at the patience, we should rather say, the humble -resignation displayed by Martial de Sairmeuse. - -Instead of rebelling against this manifest injustice, Martial drew -from his pocket the paper which he had just taken from his desk, and -handing it to Jean: - -"Those who have brought upon me the shame of having my word doubted -shall be punished for it," he said grimly. "You do not believe in my -sincerity, Jean. Here is a proof, which I expect you to give to -Maurice, and which cannot fail to convince even you." - -"What is this proof?" - -"The letter written by my hand, in exchange for which my father -assisted in the baron's escape. An inexplicable presentiment prevented -me from burning this compromising letter. To-day, I rejoice that such -was the case. Take it, and use it as you will." - -Anyone save Jean Lacheneur would have been touched by the generosity -of soul. But Jean was implacable. His was a nature which nothing can -disarm, which nothing can mollify; hatred in his heart was a passion -which, instead of growing weaker with time, increased and became more -terrible. - -He would have sacrificed anything at that moment for the ineffable joy -of seeing this proud and detested marquis at his feet. - -"Very well, I will give it to Maurice," he responded, coldly. - -"It should be a bond of alliance, it seems to me," said Martial, -gently. - -Jean Lacheneur made a gesture terrible in its irony and menace. - -"A bond of alliance!" he exclaimed. "You are too fast, Monsieur le -Marquis! Have you forgotten all the blood that flows between us? You -did not cut the ropes; but who condemned the innocent Baron d'Escorval -to death? Was it not the Duc de Sairmeuse? An alliance! You have -forgotten that you and yours sent my father to the scaffold! How have -you rewarded the man whose heroic honesty gave you back a fortune? By -murdering him, and by ruining the reputation of his daughter." - -"I offered my name and my fortune to your sister." - -"I would have killed her with my own hand had she accepted your offer. -Let this prove to you that I do not forget. If any great disgrace ever -tarnishes the proud name of Sairmeuse, think of Jean Lacheneur. My -hand will be in it." - -He was so frantic with passion that he forgot his usual caution. By a -violent effort he recovered his self-possession, and in calmer tones -he added: - -"And if you are so desirous of seeing Maurice, be at the Reche -to-morrow at mid-day. He will be there." - -Having said this, he turned abruptly aside, sprang over the fence -skirting the avenue, and disappeared in the darkness. - -"Jean," cried Martial, in almost supplicating tones; "Jean, come back ---listen to me!" - -No response. - -A sort of bewilderment had seized the young marquis, and he stood -motionless and dazed in the middle of the road. - -A horse and rider on their way to Montaignac, that nearly ran over -him, aroused him from his stupor, and the consciousness of his acts, -which he had lost while reading the letter from Maurice, came back to -him. - -Now he could judge of his conduct calmly. - -Was it indeed he, Martial, the phlegmatic sceptic, the man who boasted -of his indifference and his insensibility, who had thus forgotten all -self-control? - -Alas, yes. And when Blanche de Courtornieu, now and henceforth the -Marquise de Sairmeuse, accused Marie-Anne of being the cause of his -frenzy, she had not been entirely wrong. - -Martial, who regarded the opinion of the entire world with disdain, -was rendered frantic by the thought that Marie-Anne despised him, and -considered him a traitor and a coward. - -It was for her sake, that in his outburst of rage, he resolved upon -such a startling justification. And if he besought Jean to lead him to -Maurice d'Escorval, it was because he hoped to find Marie-Anne not far -off, and to say to her: - -"Appearances were against me, but I am innocent; and I have proved it -by unmasking the real culprit." - -It was to Marie-Anne that he wished this famous letter to be given, -thinking that she, at least, could not fail to be surprised at his -generosity. - -His expectations had been disappointed; and now he realized what a -terrible scandal he had created. - -"It will be the devil to arrange!" he explained; "but nonsense! it -will be forgotten in a month. The best way will be to face those -gossips at once: I will return immediately." - -He said: "I will return," in the most deliberate manner; but in -proportion as he neared the chateau, his courage failed him. - -The guests must have departed ere this, and Martial concluded that he -would probably find himself alone with his young wife, his father, and -the Marquis de Courtornieu. What reproaches, tears, anger and threats -he would be obliged to encounter. - -"No," he muttered. "I am not such a fool! Let them have a night to -calm themselves. I will not appear until to-morrow." - -But where should he pass the night? He was in evening dress and -bareheaded; he began to feel cold. The house belonging to the duke in -Montaignac would afford him a refuge. - -"I shall find a bed, some servants, a fire, and a change of clothing -there--and to-morrow, a horse to return." - -It was quite a distance to walk; but in his present mood this did not -displease him. - -The servant who came to open the door when he rapped, was speechless -with astonishment on recognizing him. - -"You, Monsieur!" he exclaimed. - -"Yes, it is I. Light a good fire in the drawing-room for me, and bring -me a change of clothing." - -The valet obeyed, and soon Martial found himself alone, stretched upon -a sofa before the cheerful blaze. - -"It would be a good thing to sleep and forget my troubles," he said to -himself. - -He tried; but it was not until early morning that he fell into a -feverish slumber. - -He awoke about nine o'clock, ordered breakfast, concluded to return to -Sairmeuse, and he was eating with a good appetite, when suddenly: - -"Have a horse saddled instantly!" he exclaimed. - -He had just remembered the rendezvous with Maurice. Why should he not -go there? - -He set out at once, and thanks to a spirited horse, he reached the -Reche at half-past eleven o'clock. - -The others had not yet arrived; he fastened his horse to a tree near -by, and leisurely climbed to the summit of the hill. - -This spot had been the site of Lacheneur's house. The four walls -remained standing, blackened by fire. - -Martial was contemplating the ruins, not without deep emotion, when he -heard a sharp crackling in the underbrush. - -He turned; Maurice, Jean, and Corporal Bavois were approaching. - -The old soldier carried under his arm a long and narrow package, -enveloped in a piece of green serge. It contained the swords which -Jean Lacheneur had gone to Montaignac during the night to procure from -a retired officer. - -"We are sorry to have kept you waiting," began Maurice, "but you will -observe that it is not yet midday. Since we scarcely expected to see -you----" - -"I was too anxious to justify myself not to be here early," -interrupted Martial. - -Maurice shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. - -"It is not a question of self-justification, but of fighting," he -said, in a tone rude even to insolence. - -Insulting as were the words and the gesture that accompanied them, -Martial never so much as winced. - -"Sorrow has rendered you unjust," said he, gently, "or Monsieur -Lacheneur here has told you nothing." - -"Jean has told me all." - -"Well, then?" - -Martial's coolness drove Maurice frantic. - -"Well," he replied, with extreme violence, "my hatred is unabated even -if my scorn is diminished. You have owed me an opportunity to avenge -myself, Monsieur, ever since the day we met on the square at Sairmeuse -in the presence of Mademoiselle Lacheneur. You said to me on that -occasion: 'We shall meet again.' Here we stand now face to face. What -insults must I heap upon you to decide you to fight?" - -A flood of crimson dyed Martial's face. He seized one of the swords -which Bavois offered him, and assumed an attitude of defence. - -"You will have it so," said he in a husky voice. "The thought of -Marie-Anne can no longer save you." - -But the blades had scarcely crossed before a cry from Jean and from -Corporal Bavois arrested the combat. - -"The soldiers!" they exclaimed; "let us fly!" - -A dozen soldiers were indeed approaching at the top of their speed. - -"Ah! I spoke the truth!" exclaimed Maurice. "The coward came, but the -gendarmes accompanied him." - -He bounded back, and breaking his sword over his knee, he hurled the -fragments in Martial's face, saying: - -"Here, miserable wretch!" - -"Wretch!" repeated Jean and Corporal Bavois, "traitor! coward!" - -And they fled, leaving Martial thunderstruck. - -He struggled hard to regain his composure. The soldiers were very -near; he ran to meet them, and addressing the officer in command, he -said, imperiously: - -"Do you know who I am?" - -"Yes," replied the sergeant, respectfully, "you are the son of the Duc -de Sairmeuse." - -"Very well! I forbid you to follow those men." - -The sergeant hesitated at first; then, in a decided tone, he replied: - -"I cannot obey you, sir. I have my orders." - -And addressing his men: - -"Forward!" he exclaimed. He was about to set the example, when Martial -seized him by the arm. - -"At least you will not refuse to tell me who sent you here?" - -"Who sent us? The colonel, of course, in obedience to orders from the -/grand prevot/, Monsieur de Courtornieu. He sent the order last night. -We have been hidden in that grove since daybreak. But release me-- -/tonnerre/! would you have my expedition fail entirely?" - -He hurried away, and Martial, staggering like a drunken man, descended -the slope, and remounted his horse. - -But he did not repair to the Chateau de Sairmeuse; he returned to -Montaignac, and passed the remainder of the afternoon in the solitude -of his own room. - -That evening he sent two letters to Sairmeuse. One to his father, the -other to his wife. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX - -Terrible as Martial imagined the scandal to be which he had created, -his conception of it by no means equalled the reality. - -Had a thunder-bolt burst beneath that roof, the guests at Sairmeuse -could not have been more amazed and horrified. - -A shudder passed over the assembly when Martial, terrible in his -passion, flung the crumbled letter full in the face of the Marquis de -Courtornieu. - -And when the marquis sank half-fainting into an arm-chair some young -ladies of extreme sensibility could not repress a cry of fear. - -For twenty seconds after Martial disappeared with Jean Lacheneur, the -guests stood as motionless as statues, pale, mute, stupefied. - -It was Blanche who broke the spell. - -While the Marquis de Courtornieu was panting for breath--while the Duc -de Sairmeuse was trembling and speechless with suppressed anger, the -young marquise made an heroic attempt to come to the rescue. - -With her hand still aching from Martial's brutal clasp, a heart -swelling with rage and hatred, and a face whiter than her bridal veil, -she had strength to restrain her tears and to compel her lips to -smile. - -"Really this is placing too much importance on a trifling -misunderstanding which will be explained to-morrow," she said, almost -gayly, to those nearest her. - -And stepping into the middle of the hall she made a sign to the -musicians to play a country-dance. - -But when the first measures floated through the air, the company, as -if by unanimous consent, hastened toward the door. - -One might have supposed the chateau on fire--the guests did not -withdraw, they actually fled. - -An hour before, the Marquis de Courtornieu and the Duc de Sairmeuse -had been overwhelmed with the most obsequious homage and adulation. - -But now there was not one in that assembly daring enough to take them -openly by the hand. - -Just when they believed themselves all-powerful they were rudely -precipitated from their lordly eminence. Disgrace and perhaps -punishment were to be their portion. - -Heroic to the last, the bride endeavored to stay the tide of -retreating guests. - -Stationing herself near the door, with her most bewitching smile upon -her lips, Madame Blanche spared neither flattering words nor -entreaties in her efforts to reassure the deserters. - -Vain attempt! Useless sacrifice! Many ladies were not sorry of an -opportunity to repay the young Marquise de Sairmeuse for the disdain -and the caustic words of Blanche de Courtornieu. - -Soon all the guests, who had so eagerly presented themselves that -morning, had disappeared, and there remained only one old gentleman -who, on account of his gout, had deemed it prudent not to mingle with -the crowd. - -He bowed in passing before the young marquise, and blushing at this -insult to a woman, he departed as the others had done. - -Blanche was now alone. There was no longer any necessity for -constraint. There were no more curious witnesses to enjoy her -sufferings and to make comment upon them. With a furious gesture she -tore her bridal veil and the wreath of orange flowers from her head, -and trampled them under foot. - -A servant was passing through the hall; she stopped him. - -"Extinguish the lights everywhere!" she ordered, with an angry stamp -of her foot as if she had been in her own father's house, and not at -Sairmeuse. - -He obeyed her, and then, with flashing eyes and dishevelled hair, she -hastened to the little salon in which the /denouement/ had taken -place. - -A crowd of servants surrounded the marquis, who was lying like one -stricken with apoplexy. - -"All the blood in his body has flown to his head," remarked the duke, -with a shrug of his shoulders. - -For the duke was furious with his former friends. - -He scarcely knew with whom he was most angry, Martial or the Marquis -de Courtornieu. - -Martial, by this public confession, had certainly imperilled, if he -had not ruined, their political future. - -But, on the other hand, had not the Marquis de Courtornieu represented -a Sairmeuse as being guilty of an act of treason revolting to any -honorable heart? - -Buried in a large arm-chair, he sat watching, with contracted brows, -the movements of the servants, when his daughter-in-law entered the -room. - -She paused before him, and with arms folded tightly across her breast, -she said, angrily: - -"Why did you remain here while I was left alone to endure such -humiliation? Ah! had I been a man! All our guests have fled, Monsieur ---all!" - -M. de Sairmeuse sprang up. - -"Ah, well! what if they have? Let them go to the devil!" - -Of the guests that had just left his house there was not one whom the -duke really regretted--not one whom he regarded as an equal. In giving -a marriage-feast for his son, he had bidden all the gentry of the -neighborhood. They had come--very well! They had fled--/bon voyage/! - -If the duke cared at all for their desertion, it was only because it -presaged with terrible eloquence the disgrace that was to come. - -Still he tried to deceive himself. - -"They will return, Madame; you will see them return, humble and -repentant! But where can Martial be?" - -The lady's eyes flashed, but she made no reply. - -"Did he go away with the son of that rascal, Lacheneur?" - -"I believe so." - -"It will not be long before he returns----" - -"Who can say?" - -M. de Sairmeuse struck the marble mantel heavily with his clinched -fist. - -"My God!" he exclaimed; "this is an overwhelming misfortune." - -The young wife believed that he was anxious and angry on her account. -But she was mistaken. He was thinking only of his disappointed -ambition. - -Whatever he might pretend, the duke secretly confessed his son's -superiority and his genius for intrigue, and he was now extremely -anxious to consult him. - -"He has wrought this evil; it is for him to repair it! And he is -capable of it if he chooses," he murmured. - -Then, aloud, he resumed: - -"Martial must be found--he must be found----" - -With an angry gesture, Blanche interrupted him. - -"You must seek Marie-Anne if you wish to find--my husband." - -The duke was of the same opinion, but he dared not avow it. - -"Anger leads you astray, Marquise," said he. - -"I know what I know." - -"Martial will soon make his appearance, believe me. If he went away, -he will soon return. They shall go for him at once, or I will go for -him myself----" - -He left the room with a muttered oath, and Blanche approached her -father, who still seemed to be unconscious. - -She seized his arm and shook it roughly, saying, in the most -peremptory tone: - -"Father! father!" - -This voice, which had so often made the Marquis de Courtornieu -tremble, was far more efficacious than eau de cologne. He opened one -eye the least bit in the world, then quickly closed it; but not so -quickly that his daughter failed to discover it. - -"I wish to speak with you," she said; "get up." - -He dared not disobey, and slowly and with difficulty, he raised -himself. - -"Ah! how I suffer!" he groaned; "how I suffer!" - -His daughter glanced at him scornfully; then, in a tone of bitter -irony, she remarked: - -"Do you think I am in Paradise?" - -"Speak," sighed the marquis. "What do you wish to say?" - -The bride turned haughtily to the servants. - -"Leave the room!" she said, imperiously. - -They obeyed, and, after she had locked the door: - -"Let us speak of Martial," she began. - -At the sound of this name, the marquis bounded from his chair with -clinched fists. - -"Ah, the wretch!" he exclaimed. - -"Martial is my husband, father." - -"And you!--after what he has done--you dare to defend him?" - -"I do not defend him; but I do not wish him to be murdered." - -At that moment the news of Martial's death would have given the -Marquis de Courtornieu infinite satisfaction. - -"You heard, father," continued Blanche, "the rendezvous appointed -to-morrow, at mid-day, on the Reche. I know Martial; he has been -insulted, and he will go there. Will he encounter a loyal adversary? -No. He will find a crowd of assassins. You alone can prevent him from -being assassinated." - -"I! and how?" - -"By sending some soldiers to the Reche, with orders to conceal -themselves in the grove--with orders to arrest these murderers at the -proper moment." - -The marquis gravely shook his head. - -"If I do that," said he, "Martial is quite capable--" - -"Of anything! yes, I know it. But what does it matter to you, since I -am willing to assume the responsibility?" - -M. de Courtornieu vainly tried to penetrate the bride's real motive. - -"The order to Montaignac must be sent at once," she insisted. - -Had she been less excited she would have discerned the gleam of malice -in her father's eye. He was thinking that this would afford him an -ample revenge, since he could bring dishonor upon Martial, who had -shown so little regard for the honor of others. - -"Very well; since you will have it so," he said, with feigned -reluctance. - -His daughter made haste to bring him ink and pens, and with trembling -hands he prepared a series of minute instructions for the commander at -Montaignac. - -Blanche herself gave the letter to a servant, with directions to -depart at once; and it was not until she had seen him set off on a -gallop that she went to her own apartments--the apartments in which -Martial had gathered together all that was most beautiful and -luxurious. - -But this splendor only aggravated the misery of the deserted wife, for -that she was deserted she did not doubt for a moment. She was sure -that her husband would not return; she did not expect him. - -The Duc de Sairmeuse was searching the neighborhood with a party of -servants, but she knew that it was labor lost; that they would not -encounter Martial. - -Where could he be? Near Marie-Anne most assuredly--and at the thought -a wild desire to wreak her vengeance on her rival took possession of -her heart. - -Martial, at Montaignac, had ended by going to sleep. - -Blanche, when daylight came, exchanged the snowy bridal robes for a -black dress, and wandered about the garden like a restless spirit. - -She spent most of the day shut up in her room, refusing to allow the -duke, or even her father, to enter. - -In the evening, about eight o'clock, they received tidings from -Martial. - -A servant brought two letters; one, sent by Martial to his father, the -other, to his wife. - -For a moment or more Blanche hesitated to open the one intended for -her. It would determine her destiny; she was afraid; she broke the -seal and read: - - - "Madame la marquise--Between you and me all is ended; - reconciliation is impossible. - - "From this moment you are free. I esteem you enough to hope that - you will respect the name of Sairmeuse, from which I cannot - relieve you. - - "You will agree with me, I am sure, in thinking a quiet separation - preferable to the scandal of a divorce suit. - - "My lawyer will pay you an allowance befitting the wife of a man - whose income amounts to three hundred thousand francs. - - "Martial de Sairmeuse." - - -Blanche staggered beneath this terrible blow. She was indeed deserted, -and deserted, as she supposed, for another. - -"Ah!" she exclaimed, "that creature! that creature! I will kill her!" - - - -CHAPTER XL - -The twenty-four hours which Blanche had spent in measuring the extent -of her terrible misfortune, the duke had spent in raving and swearing. - -He had not even thought of going to bed. - -After his fruitless search for his son he returned to the chateau, and -began a continuous tramp to and fro in the great hall. - -He was almost sinking from weariness when his son's letter was handed -him. - -It was very brief. - -Martial did not vouchsafe any explanation; he did not even mention the -rupture between his wife and himself. - - - "I cannot return to Sairmeuse," he wrote, "and yet it is of the - utmost importance that I should see you. - - "You will, I trust, approve my determinations when I explain the - reasons that have guided me in making them. - - "Come to Montaignac, then, the sooner the better. I am waiting for - you." - - -Had he listened to the prompting of his impatience, the duke would -have started at once. But how could he thus abandon the Marquis de -Courtornieu, who had accepted his hospitality, and especially Blanche, -his son's wife? - -He must, at least, see them, speak to them, and warn them of his -intended departure. - -He attempted this in vain. Mme. Blanche had shut herself up in her own -apartments, and remained deaf to all entreaties for admittance. Her -father had been put to bed, and the physician who had been summoned to -attend him, declared the marquis to be at death's door. - -The duke was therefore obliged to resign himself to the prospect of -another night of suspense, which was almost intolerable to a character -like his. - -"To-morrow, after breakfast, I will find some pretext to escape, -without telling them I am going to see Martial," he thought. - -He was spared this trouble. The next morning, at about nine o'clock, -while he was dressing, a servant came to inform him that M. de -Courtornieu and his daughter were awaiting him in the drawing-room. - -Much surprised, he hastened down. - -When he entered the room, the marquis, who was seated in an arm-chair, -rose, leaning heavily upon the shoulder of Aunt Medea. - -Mme. Blanche came rapidly forward to meet the duke, as pale as if -every drop of blood had been drawn from her veins. - -"We are going, Monsieur le Duc," she said, coldly, "and we wish to -make our adieux." - -"What! you are going? Will you not----" - -The young bride interrupted him by a sad gesture, and drawing -Martial's letter from her bosom, she handed it to M. de Sairmeuse, -saying. - -"Will you do me the favor to peruse this, Monsieur?" - -The duke glanced over the short epistle, and his astonishment was so -intense that he could not even find an oath. - -"Incomprehensible!" he faltered; "incomprehensible!" - -"Incomprehensible, indeed," repeated the young wife, sadly, but -without bitterness. "I was married yesterday; to-day I am deserted. It -would have been generous to have reflected the evening before and not -the next day. Tell Martial, however, that I forgive him for having -destroyed my life, for having made me the most miserable of creatures. -I also forgive him for the supreme insult of speaking to me of his -fortune. I trust he may be happy. Adieu, Monsieur le Duc, we shall -never meet again. Adieu!" - -She took her father's arm, and they were about to retire, when M. de -Sairmeuse hastily threw himself between them and the door. - -"You shall not depart thus!" he exclaimed. "I will not suffer it. -Wait, at least, until I have seen Martial. Perhaps he is not as -culpable as you suppose--" - -"Enough!" interrupted the marquis; "enough! This is one of those -outrages which can never be repaired. May your conscience forgive you, -as I, myself, forgive you. Farewell!" - -This was said so perfectly, with such entire harmony of intonation and -gesture, that M. de Sairmeuse was bewildered. - -With an absolutely wonderstruck air he watched the marquis and his -daughter depart, and they had been gone some moments before he -recovered himself sufficiently to exclaim: - -"Old hypocrite! does he believe me his dupe?" - -His dupe! M. de Sairmeuse was so far from being his dupe, that his -next thought was: - -"What is to follow this farce? He says that he pardons us--that means -that he has some crushing blow in store for us." - -This conviction filled him with disquietude. He really felt unable to -cope successfully with the perfidious marquis. - -"But Martial is a match for him!" he exclaimed. "Yes, I must see -Martial at once." - -So great was his anxiety that he lent a helping hand in harnessing the -horses he had ordered, and when the carriage was ready, he announced -his determination to drive himself. - -As he urged the horses furiously on he tried to reflect, but the most -contradictory ideas seethed in his brain, and he lost all power to -consider the situation calmly. - -He burst into Martial's room like a tornado. "I think you must -certainly have gone mad, Marquis," he exclaimed. "That is the only -valid excuse you can offer." - -But Martial, who had been expecting this visit, had prepared himself -for it. - -"Never, on the contrary, have I felt more calm and composed in mind," -he replied. "Allow me to ask you one question. Was it you who sent the -soldiers to the rendezvous which Maurice d'Escorval had appointed?" - -"Marquis!" - -"Very well! Then it was another act of infamy on the part of the -Marquis de Courtornieu." - -The duke made no reply. In spite of his faults and his vices, this -haughty man possessed the characteristic of the old French nobility-- -fidelity to his word and undoubted valor. - -He thought it perfectly natural, even necessary, that Martial should -fight with Maurice; and he thought it a contemptible act to send armed -soldiers to seize an honest and confiding opponent. - -"This is the second time," pursued Martial, "that this scoundrel has -attempted to bring dishonor upon our name; and if I desire to convince -people of the truth of this assertion, I must break off all connection -with him and his daughter. I have done this. I do not regret it, since -I married her only out of deference to your wishes, and because it -seemed necessary for me to marry, and because all women, save one who -can never be mine, are alike to me." - -Such utterances were not at all calculated to reassure the duke. - -"This sentiment is very noble, no doubt," said he; "but it has none -the less ruined the political prospects of our house." - -An almost imperceptible smile curved Martial's lips. - -"I believe, on the contrary, that I have saved them," he replied. - -"It is useless for us to attempt to deceive ourselves; this whole -affair of the insurrection has been abominable, and you have good -reason to bless the opportunity of freeing yourself from the -responsibility of it which this quarrel gives you. With a little -address, you can throw all the odium upon the Marquis de Courtornieu, -and keep for yourself only the prestige of valuable service rendered." - -The duke's face brightened. - -"Zounds, Marquis!" he exclaimed; "that is a good idea! In the future I -shall be infinitely less afraid of Courtornieu." - -Martial remained thoughtful. - -"It is not the Marquis de Courtornieu whom I fear," he murmured, "but -his daughter--my wife." - - - -CHAPTER XLI - -One must have lived in the country to know with what inconceivable -rapidity news flies from mouth to mouth. - -Strange as it may seem, the news of the scene at the chateau reached -Father Poignot's farm-house that same evening. - -It had not been three hours since Maurice, Jean Lacheneur and Bavois -left the house, promising to re-cross the frontier that same night. - -Abbe Midon had decided to say nothing to M. d'Escorval of his son's -return, and to conceal Marie-Anne's presence in the house. The baron's -condition was so critical that the merest trifle might turn the scale. - -About ten o'clock the baron fell asleep, and the abbe and Mme. -d'Escorval went downstairs to talk with Marie-Anne. As they were -sitting there Poignot's eldest son entered in a state of great -excitement. - -After supper he had gone with some of his acquaintances to admire the -splendors of the fete, and he now came rushing back to relate the -strange events of the evening to his father's guests. - -"It is inconceivable!" murmured the abbe. - -He knew but too well, and the others comprehended it likewise, that -these strange events rendered their situation more perilous than ever. - -"I cannot understand how Maurice could commit such an act of folly -after what I had just said to him. The baron's most cruel enemy has -been his own son. We must wait until to-morrow before deciding upon -anything." - -The next day they heard of the meeting at the Reche. A peasant who, -from a distance, had witnessed the preliminaries of the duel which had -not been fought, was able to give them the fullest details. - -He had seen the two adversaries take their places, then the soldiers -run to the spot, and afterward pursue Maurice, Jean and Bavois. - -But he was sure that the soldiers had not overtaken them. He had met -them five hours afterward, harassed and furious; and the officer in -charge of the expedition declared their failure to be the fault of the -Marquis de Sairmeuse, who had detained them. - -That same day Father Poignot informed the abbe that the Duc de -Sairmeuse and the Marquis de Courtornieu were at variance. It was the -talk of the country. The marquis had returned to his chateau, -accompanied by his daughter, and the duke had gone to Montaignac. - -The abbe's anxiety on receiving this intelligence was so poignant that -he could not conceal it from Baron d'Escorval. - -"You have heard something, my friend," said the baron. - -"Nothing, absolutely nothing." - -"Some new danger threatens us." - -"None, I swear it." - -The priest's protestations did not convince the baron. - -"Oh, do not deny it!" he exclaimed. "Night before last, when you -entered my room after I awoke, you were paler than death, and my wife -had certainly been crying. What does all this mean?" - -Usually, when the cure did not wish to reply to the sick man's -questions, it was sufficient to tell him that conversation and -excitement would retard his recovery; but this time the baron was not -so docile. - -"It will be very easy for you to restore my tranquillity," he said. -"Confess now, that you are trembling lest they discover my retreat. -This fear is torturing me also. Very well, swear to me that you will -not allow them to take me alive, and then my mind will be at rest." - -"I cannot take such an oath as that," said the cure, turning pale. - -"And why?" insisted M. d'Escorval. "If I am recaptured, what will -happen? They will nurse me, and then, as soon as I can stand upon my -feet, they will shoot me down. Would it be a crime to save me from -such suffering? You are my best friend; swear to render me this -supreme service. Would you have me curse you for saving my life?" - -The abbe made no response; but his eye, voluntarily or involuntarily, -turned with a peculiar expression to the box of medicine standing upon -the table near by. - -Did he wish to be understood as saying: - -"I will do nothing; but you will find a poison there." - -M. d'Escorval understood it in this way, for it was with an accent of -gratitude that he murmured: - -"Thanks!" - -Now that he felt that he was master of his life he breathed more -freely. From that moment his condition, so long desperate, began to -improve. - -"I can defy all my enemies from this hour," he said, with a gayety -which certainly was not feigned. - -Day after day passed and the abbe's sinister apprehensions were not -realized; he, too, began to regain confidence. - -Instead of causing an increase of severity, Maurice's and Jean -Lacheneur's frightful imprudence had been, as it were, the point of -departure for a universal indulgence. - -One might reasonably have supposed that the authorities of Montaignac -had forgotten, and desired to have forgotten, if that were possible, -Lacheneur's conspiracy, and the abominable slaughter for which it had -been made the pretext. - -They soon heard at the farm that Maurice and the brave corporal had -succeeded in reaching Piedmont. - -No allusion was made to Jean Lacheneur, so it was supposed that he had -not left the country; but they had no reason to fear for his safety, -since he was not upon the proscribed list. - -Later, it was rumored that the Marquis de Courtornieu was ill, and -that Mme. Blanche did not leave his bedside. - -Soon afterward, Father Poignot, on returning from Montaignac, reported -that the duke had just passed a week in Paris, and that he was now on -his way home with one more decoration--another proof of royal favor-- -and that he had succeeded in obtaining an order for the release of all -the conspirators, who were now in prison. - -It was impossible to doubt this intelligence, for the Montaignac -papers mentioned this fact, with all the circumstances on the -following day. - -The abbe attributed this sudden and happy change entirely to the -rupture between the duke and the marquis, and this was the universal -opinion in the neighborhood. Even the retired officers remarked: - -"The duke is decidedly better than he is supposed to be, and if he has -been severe, it is only because he was influenced by that odious -Marquis de Courtornieu." - -Marie-Anne alone suspected the truth. A secret presentiment told her -that it was Martial de Sairmeuse who had shaken off his wonted apathy, -and was working these changes and using and abusing his ascendancy -over the mind of his father. - -"And it is for your sake," whispered an inward voice, "that Martial is -thus working. What does this careless egotist care for these obscure -peasants, whose names he does not even know? If he protects them, it -is only that he may have a right to protect you, and those whom you -love!" - -With these thoughts in her mind, she could not but feel her aversion -to Martial diminish. - -Was not such conduct truly heroic in a man whose dazzling offers she -had refused? Was there not real moral grandeur in the feeling that -induced Martial to reveal a secret which might ruin the political -fortunes of his house, rather than be suspected of an unworthy action? -And still the thought of this /grande passion/ which she had inspired -in so truly great a man never once made her heart quicken its -throbbing. - -Alas! nothing was capable of touching her heart now; nothing seemed to -reach her through the gloomy sadness that enveloped her. - -She was but the ghost of the formerly beautiful and radiant Marie- -Anne. Her quick, alert tread had become slow and dragging, often she -sat for whole days motionless in her chair, her eyes fixed upon -vacancy, her lips contracted as if by a spasm, while great tears -rolled silently down her cheeks. - -Abbe Midon, who was greatly disquieted on her account, often attempted -to question her. - -"You are suffering, my child," he said, kindly. "What is the matter?" - -"I am not ill, Monsieur." - -"Why do you not confide in me? Am I not your friend? What do you -fear?" - -She shook her head sadly and replied: - -"I have nothing to confide." - -She said this, and yet she was dying of sorrow and anguish. - -Faithful to the promise she had made Maurice, she had said nothing of -her condition, or of the marriage solemnized in the little church at -Vigano. And she saw with inexpressible terror, the approach of the -moment when she could no longer keep her secret. Her agony was -frightful; but what could she do! - -Fly? but where should she go? And by going, would she not lose all -chance of hearing from Maurice, which was the only hope that sustained -her in this trying hour? - -She had almost determined on flight when circumstances-- -providentially, it seemed to her--came to her aid. - -Money was needed at the farm. The guests were unable to obtain any -without betraying their whereabouts, and Father Poignot's little store -was almost exhausted. - -Abbe Midon was wondering what they were to do, when Marie-Anne told -him of the will which Chanlouineau had made in her favor, and of the -money concealed beneath the hearth-stone in the best chamber. - -"I might go to the Borderie at night," suggested Marie-Anne, "enter -the house, which is unoccupied, obtain the money and bring it here. I -have a right to do so, have I not?" - -But the priest did not approve this step. - -"You might be seen," said he, "and who knows--perhaps arrested. If you -were questioned, what plausible explanation could you give?" - -"What shall I do, then?" - -"Act openly; you are not compromised. Make your appearance in -Sairmeuse to-morrow as if you had just returned from Piedmont; go to -the notary, take possession of your property, and install yourself at -the Borderie." - -Marie-Anne shuddered. - -"Live in Chanlouineau's house," she faltered. "I alone!" - -"Heaven will protect you, my dear child. I can see only advantages in -your installation at the Borderie. It will be easy to communicate with -you; and with ordinary precautions there can be no danger. Before your -departure we will decide upon a place of rendezvous, and two or three -times a week you can meet Father Poignot there. And, in the course of -two or three months you can be still more useful to us. When people -have become accustomed to your residence at the Borderie, we will take -the baron there. His convalescence will be much more rapid there, than -here in this cramped and narrow loft, where we are obliged to conceal -him now, and where he is really suffering for light and air." - -So it was decided that Father Poignot should accompany Marie-Anne to -the frontier that very night; there she would take the diligence that -ran between Piedmont and Montaignac, passing through the village of -Sairmeuse. - -It was with the greatest care that the abbe dictated to Marie-Anne the -story she was to tell of her sojourn in foreign lands. All that she -said, and all her answers to questions must tend to prove that Baron -d'Escorval was concealed near Turin. - -The plan was carried out in every particular; and the next day, about -eight o'clock, the people of Sairmeuse were greatly astonished to see -Marie-Anne alight from the diligence. - -"Monsieur Lacheneur's daughter has returned!" - -The words flew from lip to lip with marvellous rapidity, and soon all -the inhabitants of the village were gathered at the doors and windows. - -They saw the poor girl pay the driver, and enter the inn, followed by -a boy bearing a small trunk. - -In the city, curiosity has some shame; it hides itself while it spies -into the affairs of its neighbors; but in the country it has no such -scruples. - -When Marie-Anne emerged from the inn, she found a crowd awaiting her -with open mouths and staring eyes. - -And more than twenty people making all sorts of comments, followed her -to the door of the notary. - -He was a man of importance, this notary, and he welcomed Marie-Anne -with all the deference due an heiress of an unencumbered property, -worth from forty to fifty thousand francs. - -But jealous of his renown for perspicuity, he gave her clearly to -understand that he, being a man of experience, had divined that love -alone had dictated Chanlouineau's last will and testament. - -Marie-Anne's composure and resignation made him really angry. - -"You forget what brings me here," she said; "you do not tell me what I -have to do!" - -The notary, thus interrupted, made no further attempts at consolation. - -"/Pestet!/" he thought, "she is in a hurry to get possession of her -property--the avaricious creature!" - -Then aloud: - -"The business can be terminated at once, for the justice of the peace -is at liberty to-day, and he can go with us to break the seals this -afternoon." - -So, before evening, all the legal requirements were complied with, and -Marie-Anne was formally installed at the Borderie. - -She was alone in Chanlouineau's house--alone! Night came on and a -great terror seized her heart. It seemed to her that the doors were -about to open, that this man who had loved her so much would appear -before her, and that she would hear his voice as she heard it for the -last time in his grim prison-cell. - -She fought against these foolish fears, lit a lamp, and went through -this house--now hers--in which everything spoke so forcibly of its -former owner. - -Slowly she examined the different rooms on the lower floor, noting the -recent repairs which had been made and the conveniences which had been -added, and at last she ascended to that room above which Chanlouineau -had made the tabernacle of his passion. - -Here, everything was magnificent, far more so than his words had led -her to suppose. The poor peasant who made his breakfast off a crust -and a bit of onion had lavished a small fortune on the decorations of -this apartment, designed as a sanctuary for his idol. - -"How he loved me!" murmured Marie-Anne, moved by that emotion, the -bare thought of which had awakened the jealousy of Maurice. - -But she had neither the time nor the right to yield to her feelings. -Father Poignot was doubtless, even then, awaiting her at the -rendezvous. - -She lifted the hearth-stone, and found the sum of money which -Chanlouineau had named. - -The next morning, when he awoke, the abbe received the money. - -Now, Marie-Anne could breathe freely; and this peace, after so many -trials and agitations, seemed to her almost happiness. - -Faithful to the abbe's instructions, she lived alone; but, by frequent -visits, she accustomed the people of the neighborhood to her presence. - -Yes, she would have been almost happy, could she have had news of -Maurice. What had become of him? Why did he give no sign of life? What -would she not have given in exchange for some word of counsel and of -love from him? - -The time was fast approaching when she would require a confidant; and -there was no one in whom she could confide. - -In this hour of extremity, when she really felt that her reason was -failing her, she remembered the old physician at Vigano, who had been -one of the witnesses to her marriage. - -"He would help me if I called upon him for aid," she thought. - -She had no time to temporize or to reflect; she wrote to him -immediately, giving the letter in charge of a youth in the -neighborhood. - -"The gentleman says you may rely upon him," said the messenger on his -return. - -That very evening Marie-Anne heard someone rap at her door. It was the -kind-hearted old man who had come to her relief. - -He remained at the Borderie nearly a fortnight. - -When he departed one morning, before daybreak, he took away with him -under his large cloak an infant--a boy--whom he had sworn to cherish -as his own child. - - - -CHAPTER XLII - -To quit Sairmeuse without any display of violence had cost Blanche an -almost superhuman effort. - -The wildest anger convulsed her soul at the very moment, when, with an -assumption of melancholy dignity, she murmured those words of -forgiveness. - -Ah! had she obeyed the dictates of her resentment! - -But her indomitable vanity aroused within her the heroism of a -gladiator dying on the arena, with a smile upon his lips. - -Falling, she intended to fall gracefully. - -"No one shall see me weep; no one shall hear me complain," she said to -her despondent father; "try to imitate me." - -And on her return to the Chateau de Courtornieu, she was a stoic. - -Her face, although pale, was as immobile as marble, beneath the -curious gaze of the servants. - -"I am to be called mademoiselle as in the past," she said, -imperiously. "Anyone forgetting this order will be dismissed." - -A maid forgot that very day, and uttered the prohibited word, -"madame." The poor girl was instantly dismissed, in spite of her tears -and protestations. - -All the servants were indignant. - -"Does she hope to make us forget that she is married and that her -husband has deserted her?" they queried. - -Alas! she wished to forget it herself. She wished to annihilate all -recollection of that fatal day whose sun had seen her a maiden, a -wife, and a widow. - -For was she not really a widow? - -Only it was not death which had deprived her of her husband, but an -odious rival--an infamous and perfidious creature lost to all sense of -shame. - -And yet, though she had been disdained, abandoned, and repulsed, she -was no longer free. - -She belonged to the man whose name she bore like a badge of servitude ---to the man who hated her, who fled from her. - -She was not yet twenty; and this was the end of her youth, of her -life, of her hopes, and even of her dreams. - -Society condemned her to solitude, while Martial was free to rove -wheresoever fancy might lead him. - -Now she saw the disadvantage of isolating one's self. She had not been -without friends in her school-girl days; but after leaving the convent -she had alienated them by her haughtiness, on finding them not as high -in rank, nor as rich as herself. She was now reduced to the irritating -consolations of Aunt Medea, who was a worthy person, undoubtedly, but -her tears flowed quite as freely for the loss of a cat, as for the -death of a relative. - -But Blanche bravely resolved that she would conceal her grief and -despair in the recesses of her own heart. - -She drove about the country; she wore the prettiest dresses in her -/trousseau/; she forced herself to appear gay and indifferent. - -But on going to attend high mass in Sairmeuse the following Sunday, -she realized the futility of her efforts. - -People did not look at her haughtily, or even curiously; but they -turned away their heads to laugh, and she overheard remarks upon the -maiden widow which pierced her very soul. - -They mocked her; they ridiculed her! - -"Oh! I will have my revenge!" she muttered. - -But she had not waited for these insults before thinking of vengeance; -and she had found her father quite ready to assist her in her plans. - -For the first time the father and the daughter were in accord. - -"The Duc de Sairmeuse shall learn what it costs to aid in the escape -of a prisoner and to insult a man like me. Fortune, favor, position-- -he shall lose all! I hope to see him ruined and dishonored at my feet. -You shall see that day! you shall see that day!" said the marquis, -vehemently. - -But, unfortunately for him and his plans, he was extremely ill for -three days, after the scene at Sairmeuse; then he wasted three days -more in composing a report, which was intended to crush his former -ally. - -This delay ruined him, since it gave Martial time to perfect his plans -and to send the Duc de Sairmeuse to Paris skilfully indoctrinated. - -And what did the duke say to the King, who accorded him such a -gracious reception? - -He undoubtedly pronounced the first reports false, reduced the -Montaignac revolution to its proper proportions, represented Lacheneur -as a fool, and his followers as inoffensive idiots. - -Perhaps he led the King to suppose that the Marquis de Courtornieu -might have provoked the outbreak by undue severity. He had served -under Napoleon, and possibly had thought it necessary to make a -display of his zeal. There have been such cases. - -So far as he himself was concerned, he deeply deplored the mistakes -into which he had been led by the ambitious marquis, upon whom he cast -most of the responsibility for the blood which had been shed. - -The result of all this was, that when the Marquis de Courtornieu's -report reached Paris, it was answered by a decree depriving him of the -office of /grand prevot/. - -This unexpected blow crushed him. - -To think that a man as shrewd, as subtle-minded, as quick-witted, and -adroit as himself--a man who had passed through so many troubled -epochs, who had served with the same obsequious countenance all the -masters who would accept his services--to think that such a man should -have been thus duped and betrayed! - -"It must be that old imbecile, the Duc de Sairmeuse, who has -manoeuvred so skilfully, and with so much address," he said. "But who -advised him? I cannot imagine who it could have been." - -Who it was Mme. Blanche knew only too well. - -She recognized Martial's hand in all this, as Marie-Anne had done. - -"Ah! I was not deceived in him," she thought; "he is the great -diplomatist I believed him to be. At his age to outwit my father, an -old politician of such experience and acknowledged astuteness! And he -does all this to please Marie-Anne," she continued, frantic with rage. -"It is the first step toward obtaining pardon for the friends of that -vile creature. She has unbounded influence over him, and so long as -she lives there is no hope for me. But, patience." - -She was patient, realizing that he who wishes to surely attain his -revenge must wait, dissimulate, /prepare/ an opportunity, but not -force it. - -What her revenge should be she had not yet decided; but she already -had her eye upon a man whom she believed would be a willing instrument -in her hands, and capable of doing anything for money. - -But how had such a man chanced to cross the path of Mme. Blanche? How -did it happen that she was cognizant of the existence of such a -person? - -It was the result of one of those simple combinations of circumstances -which go by the name of chance. - -Burdened with remorse, despised and jeered at, and stoned whenever he -showed himself upon the street, and horror-stricken whenever he -thought of the terrible threats of Balstain, the Piedmontese -innkeeper, Chupin left Montaignac and came to beg an asylum at the -Chateau de Sairmeuse. - -In his ignorance, he thought that the /grand seigneur/ who had -employed him, and who had profited by his treason, owed him, over and -above the promised reward, aid and protection. - -But the servants shunned him. They would not allow him a seat at the -kitchen-table, nor would the grooms allow him to sleep in the stables. -They threw him a bone, as they would have thrown it to a dog; and he -slept where he could. - -He bore all this uncomplainingly, deeming himself fortunate in being -able to purchase comparative safety at such a price. - -But when the duke returned from Paris with a policy of forgetfulness -and conciliation in his pocket, he would no longer tolerate the -presence of this man, who was the object of universal execration. - -He ordered the dismissal of Chupin. - -The latter resisted, swearing that he would not leave Sairmeuse unless -he was forcibly expelled, or unless he received the order from the -lips of the duke himself. - -This obstinate resistance was reported to the duke. It made him -hesitate; but the necessity of the moment, and a word from Martial, -decided him. - -He sent for Chupin and told him that he must not visit Sairmeuse again -under any pretext whatever, softening the harshness of expulsion, -however, by the offer of a small sum of money. - -But Chupin sullenly refused the money, gathered his belongings -together, and departed, shaking his clinched fist at the chateau, and -vowing vengeance on the Sairmeuse family. Then he went to his old -home, where his wife and his two boys still lived. - -He seldom left the house, and then only to satisfy his passion for -hunting. At such times, instead of hiding and surrounding himself with -every precaution, as he had done, before shooting a squirrel or a few -partridges, in former times, he went boldly to the Sairmeuse or the -Courtornieu forests, shot his game, and brought it home openly, almost -defiantly. - -The rest of the time he spent in a state of semi-intoxication, for he -drank constantly and more and more immoderately. When he had taken -more than usual, his wife and his sons generally attempted to obtain -money from him, and if persuasions failed they resorted to blows. - -For he had never given them the reward of his treason. What had he -done with the twenty thousand francs in gold which had been paid him? -No one knew. His sons believed he had buried it somewhere; but they -tried in vain to wrest his secret from him. - -All the people in the neighborhood were aware of this state of -affairs, and regarded it as a just punishment for the traitor. Mme. -Blanche overheard one of the gardeners telling the story to two of his -assistants: - -"Ah, the man is an old scoundrel!" he said, his face crimson with -indignation. "He should be in the galleys, and not at large among -respectable people." - -"He is a man who would serve your purpose," the voice of hatred -whispered in Blanche's ear. - -"But how can I find an opportunity to confer with him?" she wondered. -Mme. Blanche was too prudent to think of hazarding a visit to his -house, but she remembered that he hunted occasionally in the -Courtornieu woods, and that it might be possible for her to meet him -there. - -"It will only require a little perseverance and a few long walks," she -said to herself. - -But it cost poor Aunt Medea, the inevitable chaperon, two long weeks -of almost continued walking. - -"Another freak!" groaned the poor relative, overcome with fatigue; "my -niece is certainly crazy!" - -But one lovely afternoon in May Blanche discovered what she sought. - -It was in a sequestered spot near the lake. Chupin was tramping -sullenly along with his gun and glancing suspiciously on every side! -Not that he feared the game-keeper or a verbal process, but wherever -he went, he fancied he saw Balstain walking in his shadow, with that -terrible knife in his hand. - -Seeing Mme. Blanche he tried to hide himself in the forest, but she -prevented it by calling: - -"Father Chupin!" - -He hesitated for a moment, then he paused, dropped his gun, and -waited. - -Aunt Medea was pale with fright. - -"Blessed Jesus!" she murmured, pressing her niece's arm; "why do you -call that terrible man?" - -"I wish to speak with him." - -"What, Blanche, do you dare----" - -"I must!" - -"No, I cannot allow it. /I/ must not----" - -"There, that is enough," said Blanche, with one of those imperious -glances that deprive a dependent of all strength and courage; "quite -enough." - -Then, in gentler tones: - -"I must talk with this man," she added. - -"You, Aunt Medea, will remain at a little distance. Keep a close watch -on every side, and if you see anyone approaching, call me, whoever it -may be." - -Aunt Medea, submissive as she was ever wont to be, obeyed; and Mme. -Blanche advanced toward the old poacher, who stood as motionless as -the trunks of the giant trees around him. - -"Well, my good Father Chupin, what sort of sport have you had to-day?" -she began, when she was a few steps from him. - -"What do you want with me?" growled Chupin; "for you do want -something, or you would not trouble yourself about such as I." - -It required all Blanche's determination to repress a gesture of fright -and of disgust; but, in a resolute tone, she replied: - -"Yes, it is true that I have a favor to ask you." - -"Ah, ha! I supposed so." - -"A mere trifle which will cost you no trouble and for which you shall -be well paid." - -She said this so carelessly that one would really have supposed the -service was unimportant; but cleverly as she played her part, Chupin -was not deceived. - -"No one asks trifling services of a man like me," he said coarsely. - -"Since I have served the good cause, at the peril of my life, people -seem to suppose that they have a right to come to me with their money -in their hands, when they desire any dirty work done. It is true that -I was well paid for that other job; but I would like to melt all the -gold and pour it down the throats of those who gave it to me. - -"Ah! I know what it costs the humble to listen to the words of the -great! Go your way; and if you have any wickedness in your head, do it -yourself!" - -He shouldered his gun and was moving away, when Mme. Blanche said, -coldly: - -"It was because I knew your wrongs that I stopped you; I thought you -would be glad to serve me, because I hate the Sairmeuse." - -These words excited the interest of the old poacher, and he paused. - -"I know very well that you hate the Sairmeuse now--but----" - -"But what!" - -"In less than a month you will be reconciled. And you will pay the -expenses of the war and of the reconciliation? That old wretch, -Chupin----" - -"We shall never be reconciled." - -"Hum!" he growled, after deliberating awhile. "And if I should aid -you, what compensation will you give me?" - -"I will give you whatever you desire--money, land, a house----" - -"Many thanks. I desire something quite different." - -"What? Name your conditions." - -Chupin reflected a moment, then he replied: - -"This is what I desire. /I/ have enemies--I do not even feel safe in -my own house. My sons abuse me when I have been drinking; my wife is -quite capable of poisoning my wine; I tremble for my life and for my -money. I cannot endure this existence much longer. Promise me an -asylum in the Chateau de Courtornieu, and I am yours. In your house I -shall be safe. But let it be understood, I will not be ill-treated by -the servants as I was at Sairmeuse." - -"It shall be as you desire." - -"Swear it by your hope of heaven." - -"I swear." - -There was such an evident sincerity in her accent that Chupin was -reassured. He leaned toward her, and said, in a low voice: - -"Now tell me your business." - -His small gray eyes glittered with a demoniac light; his thin lips -were tightly drawn over his sharp teeth; he was evidently expecting -some proposition to murder, and he was ready. - -His attitude showed this so plainly that Blanche shuddered. - -"Really, what I ask of you is almost nothing," she replied. "I only -wish you to watch the Marquis de Sairmeuse." - -"Your husband?" - -"Yes; my husband. I wish to know what he does, where he goes, and what -persons he sees. I wish to know how each moment of his time is spent." - -"What! seriously, frankly, is this all that you desire of me?" Chupin -asked. - -"For the present, yes. My plans are not yet decided. It depends upon -circumstances what action I shall take." - -"You can rely upon me," he responded; "but I must have a little time." - -"Yes, I understand. To-day is Saturday; will you be ready to report on -Thursday?" - -"In five days? Yes, probably." - -"In that case, meet me here on Thursday, at this same hour." - -A cry from Aunt Medea interrupted them. - -"Someone is coming!" Mme. Blanche exclaimed. "Quick! we must not be -seen together. Conceal yourself." - -With a bound the old poacher disappeared in the forest. - -A servant had approached Aunt Medea, and was speaking to her with -great animation. - -Blanche hastened toward them. - -"Ah! Mademoiselle," exclaimed the servant, "we have been seeking you -everywhere for three hours. Your father, monsieur le marquis--/mon -Dieu/! what a misfortune! A physician has been summoned." - -"Is my father dead?" - -"No, Mademoiselle, no; but--how can I tell you? When the marquis went -out this morning his actions were very strange, and--and--when he -returned----" - -As he spoke the servant tapped his forehead with the end of his -forefinger. - -"You understand me, Mademoiselle--when he returned, reason had fled!" - -Without waiting for her terrified aunt, Blanche darted in the -direction of the chateau. - -"How is the marquis?" she inquired of the first servant whom she met. - -"He is in his room on the bed; he is more quiet now." - -She had already reached his room. He was seated upon the bed, and two -servants were watching his every movement. His face was livid, and a -white foam had gathered upon his lips. Still, he recognized his -daughter. - -"Here you are," said he. "I was waiting for you." - -She remained upon the threshold, quite overcome, although she was -neither tender-hearted nor impressionable. - -"My father!" she faltered. "Good heavens! what has happened?" - -He uttered a discordant laugh. - -"Ah, ha!" he exclaimed, "I met him. Do you doubt me? I tell you that I -saw the wretch. I know him well; have I not seen his cursed face -before my eyes for more than a month--for it never leaves me. I saw -him. It was in the forest near the Sanguille rocks. You know the -place; it is always dark there, on account of the trees. I was -returning slowly, thinking of him, when suddenly he sprang up before -me, extending his arms as if to bar my passage. - -"'Come,' said he, 'you must come and join me.' He was armed with a -gun; he fired----" - -The marquis paused, and Blanche summoned sufficient courage to -approach him. For more than a minute she fastened upon him that cold -and persistent look that is said to exercise such power over those who -have lost their reason; then, shaking him energetically by the arm, -she said, almost roughly: - -"Control yourself, father. You are the victim of an hallucination. It -is impossible that you have seen the man of whom you speak." - -Who it was that M. de Courtornieu supposed he had seen, Blanche knew -only too well; but she dared not, could not, utter the name. - -But the marquis had resumed his incoherent narrative. - -"Was I dreaming?" he continued. "No, it was certainly Lacheneur who -confronted me. I am sure of it, and the proof is, that he reminded me -of a circumstance which occurred in my youth, and which was known only -to him and me. It happened during the Reign of Terror. He was all- -powerful in Montaignac; and I was accused of being in correspondence -with the /emigres/. My property had been confiscated; and every moment -I was expecting to feel the hand of the executioner upon my shoulder, -when Lacheneur took me into his house. He concealed me; he furnished -me with a passport; he saved my money, and he saved my head--I -sentenced him to death. That is the reason why I have seen him again. -I must rejoin him; he told me so--I am a dying man!" - -He fell back upon his pillows, pulled the sheet up over his face, and, -lying there, rigid and motionless, one might readily have supposed it -was a corpse, whose outlines could be vaguely discerned through the -bed-coverings. - -Mute with horror, the servants exchanged frightened glances. - -Such baseness and ingratitude amazed them. It seemed incomprehensible -to them, under such circumstances, that the marquis had not pardoned -Lacheneur. - -Mme. Blanche alone retained her presence of mind. Turning to her -father's valet, she said: - -"It is not possible that anyone has attempted to injure my father?" - -"I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle, a little more and he would have been -killed." - -"How do you know this?" - -"In undressing the marquis I noticed that he had received a wound in -the head. I also examined his hat, and in it I found three holes, -which could only have been made by bullets." - -The worthy /valet de chambre/ was certainly more agitated than the -daughter. - -"Then someone must have attempted to assassinate my father," she -murmured, "and this attack of delirium has been brought on by fright. -How can we find out who the would-be murderer was?" - -The servant shook his head. - -"I suspect that old poacher, who is always prowling around, is the -guilty man--Chupin." - -"No, it could not have been he." - -"Ah! I am almost sure of it. There is no one else in the neighborhood -capable of such an evil deed." - -Mme. Blanche could not give her reasons for declaring Chupin innocent. -Nothing in the world would have induced her to admit that she had met -him, talked with him for more than half an hour, and just parted from -him. - -She was silent. In a few moments the physician arrived. - -He removed the covering from M. de Courtornieu's face--he was almost -compelled to use force to do it--examined the patient with evident -anxiety, then ordered mustard plasters, applications of ice to the -head, leeches, and a potion, for which a servant was to gallop to -Montaignac at once. All was bustle and confusion. - -When the physician left the sick-room, Mme. Blanche followed him. - -"Well, Doctor," she said, with a questioning look. - -With considerable hesitation, he replied: - -"People sometimes recover from such attacks." - -It really mattered little to Blanche whether her father recovered or -died, but she felt that an opportunity to recover her lost /prestige/ -was now afforded her. If she desired to turn public opinion against -Martial, she must improvise for herself an entirely different -reputation. If she could erect a pedestal upon which she could pose as -a patient victim, her satisfaction would be intense. Such an occasion -now offered itself, and she seized it at once. - -Never did a devoted daughter lavish more touching and delicate -attentions upon a sick father. It was impossible to induce her to -leave his bedside for a moment. It was only with great difficulty that -they could persuade her to sleep for a couple of hours, in an armchair -in the sick-room. - -But while she was playing the role of Sister of Charity, which she had -imposed upon herself, her thoughts followed Chupin. What was he doing -in Montaignac? Was he watching Martial as he had promised? How slow -the day appointed for the meeting was in coming! - -It came at last, however, and after intrusting her father to the care -of Aunt Medea, Blanche made her escape. - -The old poacher was awaiting her at the appointed place. - -"Speak!" said Mme. Blanche. - -"I would do so willingly, only I have nothing to tell you." - -"What! you have not watched the marquis?" - -"Your husband? Excuse me, I have followed him; like his own shadow. -But what would you have me say to you; since the duke left for Paris, -your husband has charge of everything. Ah! you would not recognize -him! He is always busy now. He is up at cock-crow and he goes to bed -with the chickens. He writes letters all the morning. In the afternoon -he receives all who call upon him. The retired officers are hand and -glove in with him. He has reinstated five or six of them, and he has -granted pensions to two others. He seldom goes out, and never in the -evening." - -He paused and for more than a minute Blanche was silent. She was -confused and agitated by the question that rose to her lips. What -humiliation! But she conquered her embarrassment, and turning away her -head to hide her crimson face, she said: - -"But he certainly has a mistress!" - -Chupin burst into a noisy laugh. - -"Well, we have come to it at last," he said, with an audacious -familiarity that made Blanche shudder. "You mean that scoundrel -Lacheneur's daughter, do you not? that stuck-up minx, Marie-Anne?" - -Blanche felt that denial was useless. - -"Yes," she answered; "it is Marie-Anne that I mean." - -"Ah, well! she has been neither seen nor heard from. She must have -fled with another of her lovers, Maurice d'Escorval." - -"You are mistaken." - -"Oh, not at all! Of all the Lacheneurs only Jean remains, and he lives -like the vagabond that he is, by poaching and stealing. Day and night -he rambles through the woods with his gun on his shoulder. He is -frightful to look upon, a perfect skeleton, and his eyes glitter like -live coals. If he ever meets me, my account will be settled then and -there." - -Blanche turned pale. It was Jean Lacheneur who had fired at the -marquis then. She did not doubt it in the least. - -"Very well!" said she, "I, myself, am sure that Marie-Anne is in the -neighborhood, concealed in Montaignac, probably. I must know. Endeavor -to discover her retreat before Monday, when I will meet you here -again." - -"I will try," Chupin answered. - -He did indeed try; he exerted all his energy and cunning, but in vain. -He was fettered by the precautions which he took against Balstain and -against Jean Lacheneur. On the other hand, no one in the neighborhood -would have consented to give him the least information. - -"Still no news!" he said to Mme. Blanche at each interview. - -But she would not yield. Jealousy will not yield even to evidence. - -Blanche had declared that Marie-Anne had taken her husband from her, -that Martial and Marie-Anne loved each other, hence it must be so, all -proofs to the contrary notwithstanding. - -But one morning she found her spy jubilant. - -"Good news!" he cried, as soon as he saw her; "we have caught the minx -at last." - - - -CHAPTER XLIII - -It was the second day after Marie-Anne's installation at the Borderie. - -That event was the general topic of conversation; and Chanlouineau's -will was the subject of countless comments. - -"Here is Monsieur Lacheneur's daughter with an income of more than two -thousand francs, without counting the house," said the old people, -gravely. - -"An honest girl would have had no such luck as that!" muttered the -unattractive maidens who had not been fortunate enough to secure -husbands. - -This was the great news which Chupin brought to Mme. Blanche. - -She listened to it, trembling with anger, her hands so convulsively -clinched that the nails penetrated the flesh. - -"What audacity!" she exclaimed. "What impudence!" - -The old poacher seemed to be of the same opinion. - -"If each of her lovers gives her as much she will be richer than a -queen. She will have enough to buy both Sairmeuse and Courtornieu, if -she chooses," he remarked, maliciously. - -If he had desired to augment the rage of Mme. Blanche, he had good -reason to be satisfied. - -"And this is the woman who has alienated Martial's heart from me!" she -exclaimed. "It is for this miserable wretch that he abandons me!" - -The unworthiness of the unfortunate girl whom she regarded as her -rival, incensed her to such a degree that she entirely forgot Chupin's -presence. She made no attempt to restrain herself or to hide the -secret of her sufferings. - -"Are you sure that what you tell me is true?" she asked. - -"As sure as that you stand there." - -"Who told you all this?" - -"No one--I have eyes. I went to the Borderie yesterday to see for -myself, and all the shutters were open. Marie-Anne was leaning out of -a window. She does not even wear mourning, the heartless hussy!" - -Poor Marie-Anne, indeed, had no dress but the one which Mme. -d'Escorval had given her on the night of the insurrection, when she -laid aside her masculine habiliments. - -Chupin wished to irritate Mme. Blanche still more by other malicious -remarks, but she checked him by a gesture. - -"So you know the way to the Borderie?" she inquired. - -"Perfectly." - -"Where is it?" - -"Opposite the mills of the Oiselle, near the river, about a league and -a half from here." - -"That is true. I remember now. Were you ever in the house?" - -"More than a hundred times while Chanlouineau was living." - -"Explain the topography of the dwelling!" - -Chupin's eyes dilated to their widest extent. - -"What do you wish?" he asked, not understanding in the least what was -required of him. - -"I mean, explain how the house is constructed." - -"Ah! now I understand. The house is built upon an open space a little -distance from the road. Before it is a small garden, and behind it an -orchard enclosed by a hedge. Back of the orchard, to the right, are -the vineyards; but on the left side is a small grove that shades a -spring." - -He paused suddenly, and with a knowing wink, inquired: - -"But what use do you expect to make of all this information?" - -"What does that matter to you? How is the interior arranged?" - -"There are three large square rooms on the ground floor, besides the -kitchen and a small dark room." - -"Now, what is on the floor above?" - -"I have never been up there." - -"How are the rooms furnished which you have visited?" - -"Like those in any peasant's house." - -Certainly no one was aware of the existence of the luxurious apartment -which Chanlouineau had intended for Marie-Anne. He had never spoken of -it, and had even taken the greatest precautions to prevent anyone from -seeing him transport the furniture. - -"How many doors are there?" inquired Blanche. - -"Three; one opening into the garden, another into the orchard, another -communicating with the stables. The staircase leading to the floor -above is in the middle room." - -"And is Marie-Anne alone at the Borderie?" - -"Entirely alone at present; but I suppose it will not be long before -her brigand of a brother joins her." - -Mme. Blanche fell into a revery so deep and so prolonged that Chupin -at last became impatient. - -He ventured to touch her upon the arm, and, in a wily voice, he said: -"Well, what shall we decide?" - -Blanche shuddered like a wounded man on hearing the terrible click of -the surgeon's instruments. - -"My mind is not yet made up," she replied. "I must reflect--I will -see." - -And remarking the old poacher's discontented face, she said, -vehemently: - -"I will do nothing lightly. Do not lose sight of Martial. If he goes -to the Borderie, and he will go there, I must be informed of it. If he -writes, and he will write, try to procure one of his letters. I must -see you every other day. Do not rest! Strive to deserve the good place -I am reserving for you at Courtornieu. Go!" - -He departed without a word, but also without attempting to conceal his -disappointment and chagrin. - -"It serves you right for listening to a silly, affected woman," he -growled. "She fills the air with her ravings; she wishes to kill -everybody, to burn and destroy everything. She only asks for an -opportunity. The occasion presents itself, and her heart fails her. -She draws back--she is afraid!" - -Chupin did Mme. Blanche great injustice. The movement of horror which -he had observed was the instinctive revolt of the flesh, and not a -faltering of her inflexible will. - -Her reflections were not of a nature to appease her rancor. - -Whatever Chupin and all Sairmeuse might say to the contrary, Blanche -regarded this story of Marie-Anne's travels as a ridiculous fable. In -her opinion, Marie-Anne had simply emerged from the retreat where -Martial had deemed it prudent to conceal her. - -But why this sudden reappearance? The vindictive woman was ready to -swear that it was out of mere bravado, and intended only as an insult -to her. - -"And I will have my revenge," she thought. "I would tear my heart out -if it were capable of cowardly weakness under such provocation!" - -The voice of conscience was unheard in this tumult of passion. Her -sufferings, and Jean Lacheneur's attempt upon her father's life seemed -to justify the most extreme measures. - -She had plenty of time now to brood over her wrongs, and to concoct -schemes of vengeance. Her father no longer required her care. He had -passed from the frenzied ravings of insanity and delirium to the -stupor of idiocy. - -The physician declared his patient cured. - -Cured! The body was cured, perhaps, but reason had succumbed. All -traces of intelligence had disappeared from this once mobile face, so -ready to assume any expression which the most consummate hypocrisy -required. - -There was no longer a sparkle in the eye which had formerly gleamed -with cunning, and the lower lip hung with a terrible expression of -stupidity. - -And there was no hope of any improvement. - -A single passion, the table, took the place of all the passions which -had formerly swayed the life of this ambitious man. - -The marquis, who had always been temperate in his habits, now ate and -drank with the most disgusting voracity, and he was becoming immensely -corpulent. A soulless body, he wandered about the chateau and its -surroundings without projects, without aim. Self-consciousness, all -thought of dignity, knowledge of good and evil, memory--he had lost -all these. Even the instinct of self-preservation, the last which dies -within us, had departed, and he had to be watched like a child. - -Often, as the marquis roamed about the large gardens, his daughter -regarded him from her window with a strange terror in her heart. - -But this warning of Providence only increased her desire for revenge. - -"Who would not prefer death to such a misfortune?" she murmured. "Ah! -Jean Lacheneur's revenge is far more terrible than it would have been -had his bullet pierced my father's heart. It is a revenge like this -that I desire. It is due me; I will have it!" - -She saw Chupin every two or three days; sometimes going to the place -of meeting alone, sometimes accompanied by Aunt Medea. - -The old poacher came punctually, although he was beginning to tire of -his task. - -"I am risking a great deal," he growled. "I supposed that Jean -Lacheneur would go and live at the Borderie with his sister. Then, I -should be safe. But no; the brigand continues to prowl around with his -gun under his arm, and to sleep in the woods at night. What game is he -hunting? Father Chupin, of course. On the other hand, I know that my -rascally innkeeper over there has abandoned his inn and mysteriously -disappeared. Where is he? Hidden behind one of these trees, perhaps, -deciding in which portion of my body he shall plunge his knife." - -What irritated the old poacher most of all was, that after two months -of surveillance, he had arrived at the conclusion that, whatever might -have been the relations existing between Martial and Marie-Anne in the -past, all was now over between them. - -But Blanche would not admit this. - -"Say that they are more cunning than you, Father Chupin." - -"Cunning--and how? Since I have been watching the marquis, he has not -once passed outside the fortifications. On the other hand, the postman -at Sairmeuse, who has been adroitly questioned by my wife, declares -that he has not taken a single letter to the Borderie." - -Had it not been for the hope of a safe and pleasant retreat at -Courtornieu, Chupin would have abandoned his task; and, in spite of -the tempting rewards that were promised him, he had relaxed his -surveillance. - -If he still came to the rendezvous, it was only because he had fallen -into the habit of claiming some money for his expenses each time. - -And when Mme. Blanche demanded an account of everything that Martial -had done, he told her anything that came into his head. - -Mme. Blanche soon discovered this. One day, early in September, she -interrupted him as he began the same old story, and, looking him -steadfastly in the eye, she said: - -"Either you are betraying me, or you are a fool. Yesterday Martial and -Marie-Anne spent a quarter of an hour together at the Croix d'Arcy." - - - -CHAPTER XLIV - -The old physician at Vigano, who had come to Marie-Anne's aid, was an -honorable man. His intellect was of a superior order, and his heart -was equal to his intelligence. He knew life; he had loved and -suffered, and he possessed two sublime virtues--forbearance and -charity. - -It was easy for such a man to read Marie-Anne's character; and while -he was at the Borderie he endeavored in every possible way to reassure -her, and to restore the self-respect of the unfortunate girl who had -confided in him. - -Had he succeeded? He certainly hoped so. - -But when he departed and Marie-Anne was again left in solitude, she -could not overcome the feeling of despondency that stole over her. - -Many, in her situation, would have regained their serenity of mind, -and even rejoiced. Had she not succeeded in concealing her fault? Who -suspected it, except, perhaps, the abbe. - -Hence, Marie-Anne had nothing to fear, and everything to hope. - -But this conviction did not appease her sorrow. Hers was one of those -pure and proud natures that are more sensitive to the whisperings of -conscience than to the clamors of the world. - -She had been accused of having three lovers--Chanlouineau, Martial, -and Maurice. The calumny had not moved her. What tortured her was what -these people did not know--the truth. - -Nor was this all. The sublime instinct of maternity had been awakened -within her. When she saw the physician depart, bearing her child, she -felt as if soul and body were being rent asunder. When could she hope -to see again this little son who was doubly dear to her by reason of -the very sorrow and anguish he had cost her? The tears gushed to her -eyes when she thought that his first smile would not be for her. - -Ah! had it not been for her promise to Maurice, she would -unhesitatingly have braved public opinion, and kept her precious -child. - -Her brave and honest nature could have endured any humiliation far -better than the continual lie she was forced to live. - -But she had promised; Maurice was her husband, and reason told her -that for his sake she must preserve not her honor, alas! but the -semblance of honor. - -And when she thought of her brother, her blood froze in her veins. - -Having learned that Jean was roving about the country, she sent for -him; but it was not without much persuasion that he consented to come -to the Borderie. - -It was easy to explain Chupin's terror when one saw Jean Lacheneur. -His clothing was literally in tatters, his face wore an expression of -ferocious despair, and a fierce unextinguishable hatred burned in his -eyes. - -When he entered the cottage, Marie-Anne recoiled in horror. She did -not recognize him until he spoke. - -"It is I, sister," he said, gloomily. - -"You--my poor Jean! you!" - -He surveyed himself from head to foot, and said, with a sneering -laugh: - -"Really, I should not like to meet myself at dusk in the forest." - -Marie-Anne shuddered. She fancied that a threat lurked beneath these -ironical words, beneath this mockery of himself. - -"What a life yours must be, my poor brother! Why did you not come -sooner? Now, I have you here, I shall not let you go. You will not -desert me. I need protection and love so much. You will remain with -me?" - -"It is impossible, Marie-Anne." - -"And why?" - -A fleeting crimson suffused Jean Lacheneur's cheek; he hesitated for a -moment, then: - -"Because I have a right to dispose of my own life, but not of yours," -he replied. "We can no longer be anything to each other. I deny you -to-day, that you may be able to deny me to-morrow. Yes, I renounce -you, who are my all--the only person on earth whom I love. Your most -cruel enemies have not calumniated you more foully than I----" - -He paused an instant, then he added: - -"I have said openly, before numerous witnesses, that I would never set -foot in a house that had been given you by Chanlouineau." - -"Jean! you, my brother! said that?" - -"I said it. It must be supposed that there is a deadly feud between -us. This must be, in order that neither you nor Maurice d'Escorval can -be accused of complicity in any deed of mine." - -Marie-Anne stood as if petrified. - -"He is mad!" she murmured. - -"Do I really have that appearance?" - -She shook off the stupor that paralyzed her, and seizing her brother's -hands: - -"What do you intend to do?" she exclaimed. "What do you intend to do? -Tell me; I will know." - -"Nothing! let me alone." - -"Jean!" - -"Let me alone," he said, roughly, disengaging himself. - -A horrible presentiment crossed Marie-Anne's mind. - -She stepped back, and solemnly, entreatingly, she said: - -"Take care, take care, my brother. It is not well to tamper with these -matters. Leave to God's justice the task of punishing those who have -wronged us." - -But nothing could move Jean Lacheneur, or divert him from his purpose. -He uttered a hoarse, discordant laugh, then striking his gun heavily -with his hand, he exclaimed: - -"Here is justice!" - -Appalled and distressed beyond measure, Marie-Anne sank into a chair. -She discerned in her brother's mind the same fixed, fatal idea which -had lured her father on to destruction--the idea for which he had -sacrificed all--family, friends, fortune, the present and the future-- -even his daughter's honor--the idea which had caused so much blood to -flow, which had cost the life of so many innocent men, and which had -finally conducted him to the scaffold. - -"Jean," she murmured, "remember our father." - -The young man's face became livid; his hands clinched involuntarily, -but he controlled his anger. - -Advancing toward his sister, in a cold, quiet tone that added a -frightful violence to his threats, he said: - -"It is because I remember my father that justice shall be done. Ah! -these miserable nobles would not display such audacity if all sons had -my resolution. A scoundrel would hesitate before attacking a good man -if he was obliged to say to himself: 'I cannot strike this honest man, -for though he die, his children will surely call me to account. Their -fury will fall on me and mine; they will pursue us sleeping and -waking, pursue us without ceasing, everywhere, and pitilessly. Their -hatred always on the alert, will accompany us and surround us. It will -be an implacable, merciless warfare. I shall never venture forth -without fearing a bullet; I shall never lift food to my lips without -dread of poison. And until we have succumbed, they will prowl about -our house, trying to slip in through tiniest opening, death, dishonor, -ruin, infamy, and misery!'" - -He paused with a nervous laugh, and then, still more slowly, he added: - -"That is what the Sairmeuse and Courtornieu have to expect from me." - -It was impossible to mistake the meaning of Jean Lacheneur's words. -His threats were not the wild ravings of anger. His quiet manner, his -icy tones, his automatic gestures betrayed one of those cold rages -which endure so long as the man lives. - -He took good care to make himself understood, for between his teeth he -added: - -"Undoubtedly, these people are very high, and I am very low; but when -a tiny worm fastens itself to the roots of a giant oak, that tree is -doomed." - -Marie-Anne knew all too well the uselessness of prayers and -entreaties. - -And yet she could not, she must not allow her brother to depart in -this mood. - -She fell upon her knees, and with clasped hands and supplicating -voice: - -"Jean," said she, "I implore you to renounce these projects. In the -name of our mother, return to your better self. These are crimes which -you are meditating!" - -With a glance of scorn and a shrug of the shoulders, he replied: - -"Have done with this. I was wrong to confide my hopes to you. Do not -make me regret that I came here." - -Then the sister tried another plan. She rose, forced her lips to -smile, and as if nothing unpleasant had passed between them, she -begged Jean to remain with her that evening, at least, and share her -frugal supper. - -"Remain," she entreated; "that is not much to do--and it will make me -so happy. And since it will be the last time we shall see each other -for years, grant me a few hours. It is so long since we have met. I -have suffered so much. I have so many things to tell you! Jean, my -dear brother, can it be that you love me no longer?" - -One must have been bronze to remain insensible to such prayers. Jean -Lacheneur's heart swelled almost to bursting; his stern features -relaxed, and a tear trembled in his eye. - -Marie-Anne saw that tear. She thought she had conquered, and clapping -her hands in delight, she exclaimed: - -"Ah! you will remain! you will remain!" - -No. Jean had already mastered his momentary weakness, though not -without a terrible effort; and in a harsh voice: - -"Impossible! impossible!" he repeated. - -Then, as his sister clung to him imploringly, he took her in his arms -and pressed her to his heart. - -"Poor sister--poor Marie-Anne--you will never know what it costs me to -refuse you, to separate myself from you. But this must be. In even -coming here I have been guilty of an imprudent act. You do not -understand to what perils you will be exposed if people suspect any -bond between us. I trust you and Maurice may lead a calm and happy -life. It would be a crime for me to mix you up with my wild schemes. -Think of me sometimes, but do not try to see me, or even to learn what -has become of me. A man like me struggles, triumphs, or perishes -alone." - -He kissed Marie-Anne passionately, then lifted her, placed her in a -chair, and freed himself from her detaining hands. - -"Adieu!" he cried; "when you see me again, our father will be -avenged!" - -She sprang up to rush after him and to call him back. Too late! - -He had fled. - -"It is over," murmured the wretched girl; "my brother is lost. Nothing -will restrain him now." - -A vague, inexplicable, but horrible fear, contracted her heart. She -felt that she was being slowly but surely drawn into a whirlpool of -passion, rancor, vengeance, and crime, and a voice whispered that she -would be crushed. - -But other thoughts soon replaced these gloomy presentiments. - -One evening, while she was preparing her little table, she heard a -rustling sound at the door. She turned and looked; someone had slipped -a letter under the door. - -Courageously, and without an instant's hesitation, she sprang to the -door and opened it. No one was there! - -The night was dark, and she could distinguish nothing in the gloom -without. She listened; not a sound broke the stillness. - -Agitated and trembling she picked up the letter, approached the light, -and looked at the address. - -"The Marquis de Sairmeuse!" she exclaimed, in amazement. - -She recognized Martial's handwriting. So he had written to her! He had -dared to write to her! - -Her first impulse was to burn the letter; she held it to the flame, -then the thought of her friends concealed at Father Poignot's farm -made her withdraw it. "For their sake," she thought, "I must read it." -She broke the seal with the arms of the De Sairmeuse family inscribed -upon it, and read: - - - "My dear Marie-Anne--Perhaps you have suspected who it is that has - given an entirely new, and certainly surprising, direction to - events. - - "Perhaps you have also understood the motives that guided him. In - that case I am amply repaid for my efforts, for you cannot refuse - me your friendship and your esteem. - - "But my work of reparation is not yet accomplished. I have prepared - everything for a revision of the judgment that condemned Baron - d'Escorval to death, or for procuring a pardon. - - "You must know where the baron is concealed. Acquaint him with my - plans and ascertain whether he prefers a revision of judgment, or - a simple pardon. - - "If he desires a new trial, I will give him a letter of license - from the King. - - "I await your reply before acting. - - "Martial de Sairmeuse." - - -Marie-Anne's head whirled. - -This was the second time that Martial had astonished her by the -grandeur of his passion. - -How noble the two men who had loved her and whom she had rejected, had -proved themselves to be. - -One, Chanlouineau, after dying for her sake, protected her still. - -Martial de Sairmeuse had sacrificed the convictions of his life and -the prejudice of his race for her sake; and, with a noble -recklessness, hazarded for her the political fortunes of his house. - -And yet the man whom she had chosen, the father of her child, Maurice -d'Escorval, had not given a sign of life since he quitted her, five -months before. - -But suddenly, and without reason, Marie-Anne passed from the most -profound admiration to the deepest distrust. - -"What if Martial's offer is only a trap?" This was the suspicion that -darted through her mind. - -"Ah!" she thought, "the Marquis de Sairmeuse would be a hero if he -were sincere!" - -And she did not wish him to be a hero. - -The result of these suspicions was that she hesitated five days before -repairing to the rendezvous where Father Poignot usually awaited her. - -When she did go, she found, not the worthy farmer, but Abbe Midon, who -had been greatly alarmed by her long absence. - -It was night, but Marie-Anne, fortunately, knew Martial's letter by -heart. - -The abbe made her repeat it twice, the second time very slowly, and -when she had concluded: - -"This young man," said the priest, "has the voice and the prejudices -of his rank and of his education; but his heart is noble and -generous." - -And when Marie-Anne disclosed her suspicions: - -"You are wrong, my child," said he; "the Marquis is certainly sincere. -It would be wrong not to take advantage of his generosity. Such, at -least, is my opinion. Intrust this letter to me. I will consult the -baron, and to-morrow I will tell you our decision." - -The abbe was awaiting her with feverish impatience on the same spot, -when she rejoined him twenty-four hours later. - -"Monsieur d'Escorval agrees with me that we must trust ourselves to -the Marquis de Sairmeuse. Only the baron, being innocent, cannot, will -not, accept a pardon. He demands a revision of the iniquitous judgment -which condemned him." - -Although she must have foreseen this determination, Marie-Anne seemed -stupefied. - -"What!" said she. "Monsieur d'Escorval will give himself up to his -enemies? Does not the Marquis de Sairmeuse promise him a letter of -license, a safe-conduct from the King?" - -"Yes." - -She could find no objection, so in a submissive tone, she said: - -"In this case, Monsieur, I must ask you for a rough draft of the -letter I am to write to the marquis." - -The priest did not reply for a moment. It was evident that he felt -some misgivings. At last, summoning all his courage, he said: - -"It would be better not to write." - -"But----" - -"It is not that I distrust the marquis, not by any means, but a letter -is dangerous; it does not always reach the person to whom it is -addressed. You must see Monsieur de Sairmeuse." - -Marie-Anne recoiled in horror. - -"Never! never!" she exclaimed. - -The abbe did not seem surprised. - -"I understand your repugnance, my child," he said, gently; "your -reputation has suffered greatly through the attentions of the -marquis." - -"Oh! sir, I entreat you." - -"But one should not hesitate, my child, when duty speaks. You owe this -sacrifice to an innocent man who has been ruined through your father." - -He explained to her all that she must say, and did not leave her until -she had promised to see the marquis in person. But the cause of her -repugnance was not what the abbe supposed. Her reputation! Alas! she -knew that was lost forever. No, it was not that. - -A fortnight before she would not have been disquieted by the prospect -of this interview. Then, though she no longer hated Martial, he was -perfectly indifferent to her, while now---- - -Perhaps in choosing the Croix d'Arcy for the place of meeting, she -hoped that this spot, haunted by so many cruel memories, would restore -her former aversion. - -On pursuing the path leading to the place of rendezvous, she said to -herself that Martial would undoubtedly wound her by the tone of -careless gallantry which was habitual to him. - -But in this she was mistaken. Martial was greatly agitated, but he did -not utter a word that was not connected with the baron. - -It was only when the conference was ended, and he had consented to all -the conditions, that he said, sadly: - -"We are friends, are we not?" - -In an almost inaudible voice she answered: - -"Yes." - -And that was all. He remounted his horse which had been held by a -servant, and departed in the direction of Montaignac. - -Breathless, with cheeks on fire, Marie-Anne watched him as he -disappeared; and then her inmost heart was revealed as by a lightning -flash. - -"/Mon Dieu/! wretch that I /am/!" she exclaimed. "Do I not love? is it -possible that I could ever love any other than Maurice, my husband, -the father of my child?" - -Her voice was still trembling with emotion when she recounted the -details of the interview to the abbe. But he did not perceive it. He -was thinking only of the baron. - -"I was sure that Martial would agree to everything; I was so certain -of it that I have made all the arrangements for the baron to leave the -farm. He will await, at your house, a safe-conduct from His Majesty. - -"The close air and the heat of the loft are retarding the baron's -recovery," the abbe pursued, "so be prepared for his coming to-morrow -evening. One of the Poignot boys will bring over all our baggage. -About eleven o'clock we will put Monsieur d'Escorval in a carriage; -and we will all sup together at the Borderie." - -"Heaven comes to my aid!" thought Marie-Anne as she walked homeward. - -She thought that she would no longer be alone, that Mme. d'Escorval -would be with her to talk to her of Maurice, and that all the friends -who would surround her would aid her in driving away the thoughts of -Martial, which haunted her. - -So the next day she was more cheerful than she had been for months, -and once, while putting her little house in order, she was surprised -to find herself singing at her work. - -Eight o'clock was sounding when she heard a peculiar whistle. - -It was the signal of the younger Poignot, who came bringing an arm- -chair for the sick man, the abbe's box of medicine, and a bag of -books. - -These articles Marie-Anne deposited in the room which Chanlouineau had -adorned for her, and which she intended for the baron. After arranging -them to her satisfaction she went out to meet young Poignot, who had -told her that he would soon return with other articles. - -The night was very dark, and Marie-Anne, as she hastened on, did not -notice two motionless figures in the shadow of a clump of lilacs in -her little garden. - - - -CHAPTER XLV - -Detected by Mme. Blanche in a palpable falsehood, Chupin was quite -crestfallen for a moment. - -He saw the pleasing vision of a retreat at Courtornieu vanish; he saw -himself suddenly deprived of frequent gifts which permitted him to -spare his hoarded treasure, and even to increase it. - -But he soon regained his assurance, and with an affectation of -frankness he said: - -"I may be stupid, but I could not deceive an infant. Someone must have -told you falsely." - -Mme. Blanche shrugged her shoulders. - -"I obtained my information from two persons who were ignorant of the -interest it would possess for me." - -"As truly as the sun is in the heavens I swear----" - -"Do not swear; simply confess that you have been wanting in zeal." - -The young lady's manner betrayed such positive certainty that Chupin -ceased his denials and changed his tactics. - -With the most abject humility, he admitted that the evening before he -had relaxed his surveillance; he had been very busy; one of his boys -had injured his foot; then he had encountered some friends who -persuaded him to enter a drinking-saloon, where he had taken more than -usual, so that---- - -He told this story in a whining tone, and every moment he interrupted -himself to affirm his repentance and to cover himself with reproaches. - -"Old drunkard!" he said, "this will teach you----" - -But these protestations, far from reassuring Mme. Blanche, made her -still more suspicious, - -"All this is very well, Father Chupin," she said, dryly, "but what are -you going to do now to repair your negligence?" - -"What do I intend to do?" he exclaimed, feigning the most violent -anger. "Oh! you will see. I will prove that no one can deceive me with -impunity. Near the Borderie is a small grove. I shall station myself -there; and may the devil seize me if a cat enters that house unbeknown -to me." - -Mme. Blanche drew her purse from her pocket, and taking out three -louis, she gave them to Chupin, saying: - -"Take these, and be more careful in future. Another blunder like this, -and I shall be compelled to ask the aid of some other person." - -The old poacher went away, whistling quite reassured; but he was -wrong. The lady's generosity was only intended to allay his -suspicions. - -And why should she not suppose he had betrayed her--this miserable -wretch, who made it his business to betray others? What reason had she -for placing any confidence in his reports? She paid him! Others, by -paying him more, would certainly have the preference! - -But how could she ascertain what she wished to know? Ah! she saw but -one way--a very disagreeable, but a sure way. She, herself, would play -the spy. - -This idea took such possession of her mind that, after dinner was -concluded, and twilight had enveloped the earth in a mantle of gray, -she summoned Aunt Medea. - -"Get your cloak, quickly, aunt," she commanded. "I am going for a -walk, and you must accompany me." - -Aunt Medea extended her hand to the bell-rope, but her niece stopped -her. - -"You will dispense with the services of your maid," said she. "I do -not wish anyone in the chateau to know that we have gone out." - -"Are we going alone?" - -"Alone." - -"Alone, and on foot, at night----" - -"I am in a hurry, aunt," interrupted Blanche, "and I am waiting for -you." - -In the twinkling of an eye Aunt Medea was ready. - -The marquis had just been put to bed, the servants were at dinner, and -Blanche and Aunt Medea reached the little gate leading from the garden -into the open fields without being observed. - -"Good heavens! Where are we going?" groaned Aunt Medea. - -"What is that to you? Come!" - -Mme. Blanche was going to the Borderie. - -She could have followed the banks of the Oiselle, but she preferred to -cut across the fields, thinking she would be less likely to meet -someone. - -The night was still, but very dark, and the progress of the two women -was often retarded by hedges and ditches. Twice Blanche lost her way. -Again and again, Aunt Medea stumbled over the rough ground, and -bruised herself against the stones; she groaned, she almost wept, but -her terrible niece was pitiless. - -"Come!" she said, "or I will leave you to find your way as best you -can." - -And the poor dependent struggled on. - -At last, after a tramp of more than an hour, Blanche ventured to -breathe. She recognized Chanlouineau's house, and she paused in the -little grove of which Chupin had spoken. - -"Are we at our journey's end?" inquired Aunt Medea, timidly. - -"Yes, but be quiet. Remain where you are, I wish to look about a -little." - -"What! you are leaving me alone? Blanche, I entreat you! What are you -going to do? /Mon Dieu/! you frighten me. I am afraid, Blanche!" - -But her niece had gone. She was exploring the grove, seeking Chupin. -She did not find him. - -"I knew the wretch was deceiving me," she muttered through her set -teeth. "Who knows but Martial and Marie-Anne are there in that house -now, mocking me, and laughing at my credulity?" - -She rejoined Aunt Medea, whom she found half dead with fright, and -both advanced to the edge of the woods, which commanded a view of the -front of the house. - -A flickering, crimson light gleamed through two windows in the second -story. Evidently there was a fire in the room. - -"That is right," murmured Blanche, bitterly; "Martial is such a chilly -person!" - -She was about to approach the house, when a peculiar whistle rooted -her to the spot. - -She looked about her, and, in spite of the darkness, she discerned in -the footpath leading to the Borderie, a man laden with articles which -she could not distinguish. - -Almost immediately a woman, certainly Marie-Anne, left the house and -advanced to meet him. - -They exchanged a few words and then walked together to the house. Soon -after the man emerged without his burden and went away. - -"What does this mean?" murmured Mme. Blanche. - -She waited patiently for more than half an hour, and as nothing -stirred: - -"Let us go nearer," she said to Aunt Medea, "I wish to look through -the windows." - -They were approaching the house when, just as they reached the little -garden, the door of the cottage opened so suddenly that they had -scarcely time to conceal themselves in a clump of lilac-bushes. - -Marie-Anne came out, imprudently leaving the key in the door, passed -down the narrow path, gained the road, and disappeared. - -Blanche pressed Aunt Medea's arm with a violence that made her cry -out. - -"Wait for me here," she said, in a strained, unnatural voice, "and -whatever happens, whatever you hear, if you wish to finish your days -at Courtornieu, not a word! Do not stir from this spot; I will -return." - -And she entered the cottage. - -Marie-Anne, on going out, had left a candle burning on the table in -the front room. - -Blanche seized it and boldly began an exploration of the dwelling. - -She had gone over the arrangement of the Borderie so often in her own -mind that the rooms seemed familiar to her, she seemed to recognize -them. - -In spite of Chupin's description the poverty of this humble abode -astonished her. There was no floor save the ground; the walls were -poorly whitewashed; all kinds of grain and bunches of herbs hung -suspended from the ceiling; a few heavy tables, wooden benches, and -clumsy chairs constituted the entire furniture. - -Marie-Anne evidently occupied the back room. It was the only apartment -that contained a bed. This was one of those immense country affairs, -very high and broad, with tall fluted posts, draped with green serge -curtains, sliding back and forth on iron rings. - -At the head of the bed, fastened to the wall, hung a receptacle for -holy-water. Blanche dipped her finger in the bowl; it was full to the -brim. - -Beside the window was a wooden shelf supported by a hook, and on the -shelf stood a basin and bowl of the commonest earthenware. - -"It must be confessed that my husband does not provide a very -sumptuous abode for his idol," said Mme. Blanche, with a sneer. - -She was almost on the point of asking herself if jealousy had not led -her astray. - -She remembered Martial's fastidious tastes, and she did not know how -to reconcile them with these meagre surroundings. Then, there was the -holy-water! - -But her suspicions became stronger when she entered the kitchen. Some -savory compound was bubbling in a pot over the fire, and several -saucepans, in which fragrant stews were simmering, stood among the -warm ashes. - -"All this cannot be for her," murmured Blanche. - -Then she remembered the two windows in the story above which she had -seen illuminated by the trembling glow of the fire-light. - -"I must examine the rooms above," she thought. - -The staircase led up from the middle of the room; she knew this. She -quickly ascended the stairs, pushed open a door, and could not repress -a cry of surprise and rage. - -She found herself in the sumptuously appointed room which Chanlouineau -had made the sanctuary of his great love, and upon which he had -lavished, with the fanaticism of passion, all that was costly and -luxurious. - -"Then it is true!" exclaimed Blanche. "And I thought just now that all -was too meagre and too poor! Miserable dupe that I am! Below, all is -arranged for the eyes of comers and goers. Here, everything is -intended exclusively for themselves. Now, I recognize Martial's -astonishing talent for dissimulation. He loves this vile creature so -much that he is anxious in regard to her reputation; he keeps his -visits to her a secret, and this is the hidden paradise of their love. -Here they laugh at me, the poor forsaken wife, whose marriage was but -a mockery." - -She had desired to know the truth; certainty was less terrible to -endure than this constant suspicion, And, as if she found a little -enjoyment in proving the extent of Martial's love for a hated rival, -she took an inventory, as it were, of the magnificent appointments of -the chamber, feeling the heavy brocaded silk stuff that formed the -curtains, and testing the thickness of the rich carpet with her foot. - -Everything indicated that Marie-Anne was expecting someone; the bright -fire, the large arm-chair placed before the hearth, the embroidered -slippers lying beside the chair. - -And whom could she expect save Martial? The person who had been there -a few moments before probably came to announce the arrival of her -lover, and she had gone out to meet him. - -For a trifling circumstance would seem to indicate that this messenger -had not been expected. - -Upon the mantel stood a bowl of still smoking bouillon. - -It was evident that Marie-Anne was on the point of drinking this when -she heard the signal. - -Mme. Blanche was wondering how she could profit by her discovery, when -her eyes fell upon a large oaken box standing open upon a table near -the glass door leading into the dressing-room, and filled with tiny -boxes and vials. - -Mechanically she approached it, and among the bottles she saw two of -blue glass, upon which the word "poison" was inscribed. - -"Poison!" Blanche could not turn her eyes from this word, which seemed -to exert a kind of fascination over her. - -A diabolical inspiration associated the contents of these vials with -the bowl standing upon the mantel. - -"And why not?" she murmured. "I could escape afterward." - -A terrible thought made her pause. Martial would return with Marie- -Anne; who could say that it would not be he who would drink the -contents of the bowl. - -"God shall decide!" she murmured. "It is better one's husband should -be dead than belong to another!" - -And with a firm hand, she took up one of the vials. - -Since her entrance into the cottage Blanche had scarcely been -conscious of her acts. Hatred and despair had clouded her brain like -fumes of alcohol. - -But when her hand came in contact with the glass containing the deadly -drug, the terrible shock dissipated her bewilderment; she regained the -full possession of her faculties; the power of calm deliberation -returned. - -This is proved by the fact that her first thought was this: - -"I am ignorant even of the name of the poison which I hold. What dose -must I administer, much or little?" - -She opened the vial, not without considerable difficulty, and poured a -few grains of its contents into the palm of her hand. It was a fine, -white powder, glistening like pulverized glass, and looking not unlike -sugar. - -"Can it really be sugar?" she thought. - -Resolved to ascertain, she moistened the tip of her finger, and -collected upon it a few atoms of the powder which she placed upon her -tongue. - -The taste was like that of an extremely acid apple. - -Without hesitation, without remorse, without even turning pale, she -poured into the bowl the entire contents of the vial. - -Her self-possession was so perfect, she even recollected that the -powder might be slow in dissolving, and she stirred it gently for a -moment or more. - -Having done this--she seemed to think of everything--she tasted the -bouillon. She noticed a slightly bitter taste, but it was not -sufficiently perceptible to awaken distrust. - -Now Mme. Blanche breathed freely. If she could succeed in making her -escape she was avenged. - -She was going toward the door when a sound on the stairs startled her. - -Two persons were ascending the staircase. - -Where should she go? where could she conceal herself? - -She was now so sure she would be detected that she almost decided to -throw the bowl into the fire, and then boldly face the intruders. - -But no--a chance remained--she darted into the dressing-room. She -dared not close the door; the least click of the latch would have -betrayed her. - -Marie-Anne entered the chamber, followed by a peasant, bearing a large -bundle. - -"Ah! here is my candle!" she exclaimed, as she crossed the threshold. -"Joy must be making me lose my wits! I could have sworn that I left it -on the table downstairs." Blanche shuddered. She had not thought of -this circumstance. - -"Where shall I put this clothing?" asked the young peasant. - -"Lay it down here. I will arrange the articles by and by," replied -Marie Anne. - -The boy dropped his heavy burden with a sigh of relief. - -"This is the last," he exclaimed. "Now, our gentleman can come." - -"At what hour will he start?" inquired Marie-Anne. - -"At eleven o'clock. It will be nearly midnight when he gets here." - -Marie-Anne glanced at the magnificent clock on the mantel. - -"I have still three hours before me," said she; "more time than I -shall need. Supper is ready; I am going to set the table here, by the -fire. Tell him to bring a good appetite." - -"I will tell him, and many thanks, Mademoiselle, for having come to -meet me and aid me with my second load. It was not so very heavy, but -it was clumsy to handle." - -"Will you not accept a glass of wine?" - -"No, thank you. I must hasten back. /Au revoir/, Mademoiselle -Lacheneur." - -"/Au revoir/, Poignot." - -This name Poignot had no significance in the ears of Blanche. - -Ah! had she heard Monsieur d'Escorval's or the abbe's name mentioned, -she might have felt some doubt of Marie-Anne's guilt; her resolution -might have wavered, and--who knows? - -But no. Young Poignot, in referring to the baron had said: "our -gentleman," Marie-Anne said: "he." - -Is not "he" always the person who is uppermost in our minds, the -husband whom one hates or the lover whom one adores? - -"Our gentleman!" "he!" Blanche translated Martial. - -Yes, it was the Marquis de Sairmeuse who was to arrive at midnight. -She was sure of it. It was he who had been preceded by a messenger -bearing clothing. This could only mean that he was about to establish -himself at the Borderie. Perhaps he would cast aside all secrecy and -live there openly, regardless of his rank, of his dignity, and of his -duties; forgetful even of his prejudices. - -These conjectures inflamed her fury still more. - -Why should she hesitate or tremble after that? - -Her only dread now, was lest she should be discovered. - -Aunt Medea was, it is true, in the garden; but after the orders she -had received the poor woman would remain motionless as stone behind -the clump of lilacs, the entire night if necessary. - -For two hours and a half Marie-Anne would be alone at the Borderie. -Blanche reflected that this would give her ample time to watch the -effects of the poison upon her hated rival. - -When the crime was discovered she would be far away. No one knew she -had been absent from Courtornieu; no one had seen her leave the -chateau; Aunt Medea would be as silent as the grave. And besides, who -would dare to accuse her, Marquise de Sairmeuse /nee/ Blanche de -Courtornieu, of being the murderer? "But she does not drink it!" -Blanche thought. - -Marie-Anne had, in fact, forgotten the bouillon entirely. She had -opened the bundle of clothing, and was busily arranging the articles -in a wardrobe near the bed. - -Who talks of presentiments. She was as gay and vivacious as in her -days of happiness; and as she worked, she hummed an air that Maurice -had often sung. - -She felt that her troubles were nearly over; her friends would soon be -around her. - -When her task of putting away the clothing was completed and the -wardrobe closed, she drew a small table up before the fire. - -Not until then did she notice the bowl standing upon the mantel. - -"Stupid!" she said, with a laugh; and taking the bowl she raised it to -her lips. - -From her hiding-place Blanche had heard Marie-Anne's exclamation; she -saw the movement, and yet not the slightest remorse struck her soul. - -Marie-Anne drank but one mouthful, then, in evident disgust, set the -bowl down. - -A horrible dread made the watcher's heart stand still. "Does she -notice a peculiar taste in the bouillon?" she thought. - -No; but it had grown cold, and a slight coating of grease had formed -over the top. Marie-Anne took the spoon, skimmed the bouillon, and -then stirred it up for some time, to divide the greasy particles. - -After she had done this she drank the liquid, put the bowl back upon -the mantel, and resumed her work. - -It was done. The /denouement/ no longer depended upon Blanche de -Courtornieu's will. Come what would, she was a murderess. - -But though she was conscious of her crime, the excess of her hatred -prevented her from realizing its enormity. She said to herself that it -was only an act of justice which she had accomplished; that the -vengeance she had taken was not proportionate to the offence, and that -nothing could atone for the torture she had endured. - -But in a few moments a sinister apprehension took possession of her -mind. - -Her knowledge of the effects of poison was extremely limited. She had -expected to see Marie-Anne fall dead before her, as if stricken down -by a thunder-bolt. - -But no. The moments slipped by, and Marie-Anne continued her -preparations for supper as if nothing had occurred. - -She spread a white cloth over the table, smoothed it with her hands, -and placed a dish upon it. - -"What if she should come in here!" thought Blanche. - -The fear of punishment which precedes remorse, made her heart beat -with such violence that she could not understand why its throbbing -were not heard in the adjoining room. Her terror increased when she -saw Marie-Anne take the light and go downstairs. Blanche was left -alone. The thought of making her escape occurred to her; but how, and -by what way could she leave the house without being seen? - -"It must be that poison does not work!" she said, in a rage. - -Alas! no. She knew better when Marie-Anne reappeared. - -In the few moments she had spent below, her features had become -frightfully changed. Her face was livid and mottled with purple spots, -her eyes were distended and glittered with a strange brilliancy. She -let the plates which she held fall upon the table with a crash. - -"The poison! it begins!" thought Blanche. - -Marie-Anne stood on the hearth, gazing wildly around her, as if -seeking the cause of her incomprehensible suffering. She passed and -re-passed her hand across her forehead, which was bathed in a cold -perspiration; she gasped for breath. Then suddenly, overcome with -nausea, she staggered, pressed her hands convulsively upon her breast, -and sank into the armchair, crying: - -"Oh, God! how I suffer!" - - - -CHAPTER XLVI - -Kneeling by the half-open door, Blanche eagerly watched the workings -of the poison which she had administered. - -She was so near her victim that she could distinguish the throbbing of -her temples, and sometimes she fancied she could feel upon her cheek -her rival's breath, which scorched like flame. - -An utter prostration followed Marie-Anne's paroxysm of agony. One -would have supposed her dead had it not been for the convulsive -workings of the jaws and her labored breathing. - -But soon the nausea returned, and she was seized with vomiting. Each -effort to relieve seemed to wrench her whole body; and gradually a -ghastly tint crept over her face, the spots upon her cheeks became -more pronounced in tint, her eyes appeared ready to burst from their -sockets, and great drops of perspiration rolled down her cheeks. - -Her sufferings must have been intolerable. She moaned feebly at times, -and occasionally rendered heart-rending shrieks. Then she faltered -fragmentary sentences; she begged piteously for water or entreated God -to shorten her torture. - -"Ah, it is horrible! I suffer too much! Death! My God! grant me -death!" - -She invoked all the friends she had ever known, calling for aid in a -despairing voice. - -She called Mme. d'Escorval, the abbe, Maurice, her brother, -Chanlouineau, Martial! - -Martial, this name was more than sufficient to extinguish all pity in -the heart of Mme. Blanche. - -"Go on! call your lover, call!" she said to herself, bitterly. "He -will come too late." - -And as Marie-Anne repeated the name in a tone of agonized entreaty: - -"Suffer!" continued Mme. Blanche, "suffer, you who have inspired -Martial with the odious courage to forsake me, his wife, as a drunken -lackey would abandon the lowest of degraded creatures! Die, and my -husband will return to me repentant." - -No, she had no pity. She felt a difficulty in breathing, but that -resulted simply from the instinctive horror which the sufferings of -others inspire--an entirely different physical impression, which is -adorned with the fine name of sensibility, but which is, in reality, -the grossest selfishness. - -And yet, Marie-Anne was perceptibly sinking. Soon she had not strength -even to moan; her eyes closed, and after a spasm which brought a -bloody foam to her lips, her head sank back, and she lay motionless. - -"It is over," murmured Blanche. - -She rose, but her limbs trembled so that she could scarcely stand. - -Her heart remained firm and implacable; but the flesh failed. - -Never had she imagined a scene like that which she had just witnessed. -She knew that poison caused death; she had not suspected the agony of -that death. - -She no longer thought of augmenting Marie-Anne's sufferings by -upbraiding her. Her only desire now was to leave this house, whose -very floor seemed to scorch her feet. - -A strange, inexplicable sensation crept over her; it was not yet -fright, it was the stupor that follows the commission of a terrible -crime--the stupor of the murderer. - -Still, she compelled herself to wait a few moments longer; then seeing -that Marie-Anne still remained motionless and with closed eyes, she -ventured to softly open the door and to enter the room in which her -victim was lying. - -But she had not advanced three steps before Marie-Anne suddenly, and -as if she had been galvanized by an electric battery, rose and -extended her arms to bar her enemy's passage. - -This movement was so unexpected and so frightful that Mme. Blanche -recoiled. - -"The Marquise de Sairmeuse," faltered Marie-Anne. "You, Blanche-- -here!" - -And her suffering, explained by the presence of this young girl who -once had been her friend, but who was now her bitterest enemy, she -exclaimed: - -"You are my murderer!" - -Blanche de Courtornieu's was one of those iron natures that break, but -never bend. - -Since she had been discovered, nothing in the world would induce her -to deny her guilt. - -She advanced resolutely, and in a firm voice: - -"Yes," she said, "I have taken my revenge. Do you think I did not -suffer that evening when you sent your brother to take away my newly -wedded husband, upon whose face I have not gazed since?" - -"Your husband! I sent to take him away! I do not understand you." - -"Do you then dare to deny that you are not Martial's mistress!" - -"The Marquis de Sairmeuse! I saw him yesterday for the first time -since Baron d'Escorval's escape." - -The effort which she had made to rise and to speak had exhausted her -strength. She fell back in the armchair. - -But Blanche was pitiless. - -"You have not seen Martial! Tell me, then, who gave you this costly -furniture, these silken hangings, all the luxury that surrounds you?" - -"Chanlouineau." - -Blanche shrugged her shoulders. - -"So be it," she said, with an ironical smile, "but is it Chanlouineau -for whom you are waiting this evening? Is it for Chanlouineau you have -warmed these slippers and laid this table? Was it Chanlouineau who -sent his clothing by a peasant named Poignot? You see that I know -all----" - -But her victim was silent. - -"For whom are you waiting?" she insisted. "Answer!" - -"I cannot!" - -"You know that it is your lover! wretched woman--my husband, Martial!" - -Marie-Anne was considering the situation as well as her intolerable -sufferings and troubled mind would permit. - -Could she tell what guests she was expecting? - -To name Baron d'Escorval to Blanche, would it not ruin and betray him? -They hoped for a safe-conduct, a revision of judgment, but he was none -the less under sentence of death, executory in twenty-four hours. - -"So you refuse to tell me whom you expect here in an hour--at -midnight." - -"I refuse." - -But a sudden impulse took possession of the sufferer's mind. - -Though the slightest movement caused her intolerable agony, she tore -open her dress and drew from her bosom a folded paper. - -"I am not the mistress of the Marquis de Sairmeuse," she said, in an -almost inaudible voice; "I am the wife of Maurice d'Escorval. Here is -the proof--read." - -No sooner had Blanche glanced at the paper, than she became as pale as -her victim. Her sight failed her; there was a strange ringing in her -ears, a cold sweat started from every pore. - -This paper was the marriage-certificate of Maurice and Marie-Anne, -drawn up by the cure of Vigano, witnessed by the old physician and -Bavois, and sealed with the seal of the parish. - -The proof was indisputable. She had committed a useless crime; she had -murdered an innocent woman. - -The first good impulse of her life made her heart beat more quickly. -She did not stop to consider; she forgot the danger to which she -exposed herself, and in a ringing voice she cried: - -"Help! help!" - -Eleven o'clock was sounding; the whole country was asleep. The farm- -house nearest the Borderie was half a league distant. - -The voice of Blanche was lost in the deep stillness of the night. - -In the garden below Aunt Medea heard it, perhaps; but she would have -allowed herself to be chopped in pieces rather than stir from her -place. - -And yet, there was one who heard that cry of distress. Had Blanche and -her victim been less overwhelmed with despair, they would have heard a -noise upon the staircase which creaked beneath the tread of a man who -was cautiously ascending it. But it was not a saviour, for he did not -answer the appeal. But even though there had been aid near at hand, it -would have come too late. - -Marie-Anne felt that there was no longer any hope for her, and that it -was the chill of death which was creeping up to her heart. She felt -that her life was fast ebbing away. - -So, when Blanche seemed about to rush out in search of assistance, she -detained her by a gesture, and gently said: - -"Blanche." - -The murderess paused. - -"Do not summon anyone; it would do no good. Remain; be calm, that I -may at least die in peace. It will not be long now." - -"Hush! do not speak so. You must not, you shall not die! If you should -die--great God! what would my life be afterward?" - -Marie-Anne made no reply. The poison was pursuing its work of -dissolution. Her breath made a whistling sound as it forced its way -through her inflamed throat; her tongue, when she moved it, produced -in her mouth the terrible sensation of a piece of red-hot iron; her -lips were parched and swollen; her hands, inert and paralyzed, would -no longer obey her will. - -But the horror of the situation restored Blanche's calmness. - -"All is not yet lost," she exclaimed. "It was in that great box there -upon the table, where I found"--she dared not utter the word poison-- -"the white powder which I poured into the bowl. You know this powder; -you must know the antidote." - -Marie-Anne sadly shook her head. - -"Nothing can save me now," she murmured, in an almost inaudible voice; -"but I do not complain. Who knows the misery from which death may -preserve me? I do not crave life; I have suffered so much during the -past year; I have endured such humiliation; I have wept so much! A -curse was upon me!" - -She was suddenly endowed with that clearness of mental vision so often -granted to the dying. She saw how she had wrought her own undoing by -consenting to accept the perfidious role imposed upon her by her -father, and how she, herself, had paved the way for the falsehoods, -slander, crimes and misfortunes of which she had been the victim. - -Her voice grew fainter and fainter. Worn out by suffering, a sensation -of drowsiness stole over her. She was falling asleep in the arms of -death. - -Suddenly such a terrible thought pierced the stupor which enveloped -her that she uttered a heart-breaking cry: - -"My child!" - -Collecting, by a superhuman effort, all the will, energy, and strength -that the poison had left her, she straightened herself in her arm- -chair, her features contracted by mortal anguish. - -"Blanche!" she said, with an energy of which one would have supposed -her incapable. "Blanche, listen to me. It is the secret of my life -which I am about to disclose; no one suspects it. I have a son by -Maurice. Alas! many months have elapsed since my husband disappeared. -If he is dead, what will become of my child? Blanche, you, who have -killed me, must swear to me that you will be a mother to my child!" - -Blanche was utterly overcome. - -"I swear!" she sobbed, "I swear!" - -"On that condition, but on that condition alone, I pardon you. But -take care! Do not forget your oath! Blanche, God sometimes permits the -dead to avenge themselves! You have sworn, remember. - -"My spirit will allow you no rest if you do not fulfil your vow." - -"I will remember," sobbed Blanche; "I will remember. But the -child----" - -"Ah! I was afraid--cowardly creature that I was! I dreaded the shame-- -then Maurice insisted--I sent my child away--your jealousy and my -death are my punishment. Poor child! I abandoned him to strangers. -Wretched woman that I am! Ah! this suffering is too horrible. Blanche, -remember----" - -She spoke again, but her words were indistinct, inaudible. - -Blanche frantically seized the dying woman's arm, and endeavored to -arouse her. - -"To whom have you confided your child?" she repeated; "to whom? Marie- -Anne--a word more--a single word--a name, Marie-Anne!" - -The unfortunate woman's lips moved, but the death-rattle sounded in -her throat; a terrible convulsion shook her form; she slid down from -the chair, and fell full length upon the floor. - -Marie-Anne was dead--dead, and she had not disclosed the name of the -old physician at Vigano to whom she had intrusted her child. She was -dead, and the terrified murderess stood in the middle of the room, as -rigid and motionless as a statue. It seemed to her that madness--a -madness like that which had stricken her father--was developing itself -in her brain. - -She forgot everything; she forgot that a guest was expected at -midnight, that time was flying, and that she would surely be -discovered if she did not flee. - -But the man who had entered when she cried for aid was watching over -her. When he saw that Marie-Anne had breathed her last, he made a -slight noise at the door, and thrust his leering face into the room. - -"Chupin!" faltered Mme. Blanche. - -"In the flesh," he responded. "This was a grand chance for you. Ah, -ha! The business riled your stomach a little, but nonsense! that will -soon pass off. But we must not dawdle here; someone may come in. Let -us make haste." - -Mechanically the murderess advanced; but Marie-Anne's dead body lay -between her and the door, barring the passage. To leave the room it -was necessary to step over the lifeless form of her victim. She had -not courage to do this, and recoiled with a shudder. - -But Chupin was troubled by no such scruples. He sprang across the -body, lifted Blanche as if she had been a child and carried her out of -the house. - -He was drunk with joy. Fears for the future no longer disquieted him, -now that Mme. Blanche was bound to him by the strongest of chains-- -complicity in crime. - -He saw himself on the threshold of a life of ease and continual -feasting. Remorse for Lacheneur's betrayal had ceased to trouble him. -He saw himself sumptuously fed, lodged and clothed; above all, -effectually guarded by an army of servants. - -Blanche, who had experienced a feeling of deadly faintness, was -revived by the cool night air. - -"I wish to walk," said she. - -Chupin placed her on the ground about twenty paces from the house. - -"And Aunt Medea!" she exclaimed. - -Her relative was beside her; like one of those dogs who are left at -the door when their master enters a house, she had, instinctively -followed her niece on seeing her borne from the cottage by the old -poacher. - -"We must not stop to talk," said Chupin. "Come, I will lead the way." - -And taking Blanche by the arm, he hastened toward the grove. - -"Ah! so Marie-Anne had a child," he said, as they hurried on. "She was -pretending to be such a saint! But where the devil has she put it?" - -"I shall find it." - -"Hum! That is easier said than done." - -A shrill laugh, resounding in the darkness, interrupted him. He -released his hold on the arm of Blanche and assumed an attitude of -defence. - -Vain precaution! A man concealed behind a tree bounded upon him, and, -plunging his knife four times into the old poacher's writhing body, -cried: - -"Holy Virgin! now is my vow fulfilled! I shall no longer be obliged to -eat with my fingers!" - -"The innkeeper!" groaned the wounded man, sinking to the earth. - -For once in her life, Aunt Medea manifested some energy. - -"Come!" she shrieked, wild with fear, dragging her niece away. "Come-- -he is dead!" - -Not quite. The traitor had strength to crawl home and knock at the -door. - -His wife and youngest son were sleeping soundly. His eldest son, who -had just returned home, opened the door. - -Seeing his father prostrate on the ground, he thought he was -intoxicated, and tried to lift him and carry him into the house, but -the old poacher begged him to desist. - -"Do not touch me," said he. "It is all over with me; but listen; -Lacheneur's daughter has just been poisoned by Madame Blanche. It was -to tell you this that I dragged myself here. This knowledge is worth a -fortune, my boy, if you are not a fool!" - -And he died, without being able to tell his family where he had -concealed the price of Lacheneur's blood. - - - -CHAPTER XLVII - -Of all the persons who witnessed Baron d'Escorval's terrible fall, the -abbe was the only one who did not despair. - -What a learned doctor would not have dared to do, he did. - -He was a priest; he had faith. He remembered the sublime saying of -Ambroise Pare: "I dress the wound: God heals it." - -After a six months' sojourn in Father Poignot's secluded farm-house, -M. d'Escorval was able to sit up and to walk about a little, with the -aid of crutches. - -Then he began to be seriously inconvenienced by his cramped quarters -in the loft, where prudence compelled him to remain; and it was with -transports of joy that he welcomed the idea of taking up his abode at -the Borderie with Marie-Anne. - -When the day of departure had been decided upon, he counted the -minutes as impatiently as a school-boy pining for vacation. - -"I am suffocating here," he said to his wife. "I am suffocating. Time -drags so slowly. When will the happy day come?" - -It came at last. During the morning all the articles which they had -succeeded in procuring during their stay at the farm-house were -collected and packed; and when night came, Poignot's son began the -moving. - -"Everything is at the Borderie," said the honest fellow, on returning -from his last trip, "and Mademoiselle Lacheneur bids the baron bring a -good appetite." - -"I shall have one, never fear!" responded the baron, gayly. "We shall -all have one." - -Father Poignot himself was busily engaged in harnessing his best horse -to the cart which was to convey M. d'Escorval to his new home. - -The worthy man's heart grew sad at the thought of the departure of -these guests, for whose sake he had incurred such danger. He felt that -he should miss them, that the house would seem gloomy and deserted -after they left it. - -He would allow no one else to perform the task of arranging the -mattress comfortably in the cart. When this had been done to his -satisfaction, he heaved a deep sigh, and exclaimed: - -"It is time to start!" - -Slowly he ascended the narrow staircase leading to the loft. - -M. d'Escorval had not thought of the moment of parting. - -At the sight of the honest farmer, who came toward him, his face -crimsoned with emotion to bid him farewell, he forgot all the comforts -that awaited him at the Borderie, in the remembrance of the loyal and -courageous hospitality he had received in the house he was about to -leave. The tears sprang to his eyes. - -"You have rendered me a service which nothing can repay, Father -Poignot," he said, with intense feeling. "You have saved my life." - -"Oh! we will not talk of that, Baron. In my place, you would have done -the same--neither more nor less." - -"I shall not attempt to express my thanks, but I hope to live long -enough to prove that I am not ungrateful." - -The staircase was so narrow that they had considerable difficulty in -carrying the baron down; but finally they had him comfortably extended -upon his mattress and threw over him a few handsful of straw, which -concealed him entirely. - -"Farewell, then!" said the old farmer, when the last hand-shake had -been exchanged, "or rather /au revoir/, Monsieur le Baron, Madame, and -you, my good cure." - -"All ready?" inquired young Poignot. - -"Yes," replied the invalid. - -The cart, driven with the utmost caution by the young peasant, started -slowly on its way. - -Mme. d'Escorval, leaning upon the abbe's arm, walked about twenty -paces in the rear. - -It was very dark, but had it been as light as day the former cure of -Sairmeuse might have encountered any of his old parishioners without -the least danger of detection. - -His hair and his beard had been allowed to grow; his tonsure had -entirely disappeared, and his sedentary life had caused him to become -much stouter. He was clad like all the well-to-do peasants of the -neighborhood, and his face was hidden by a large slouch hat. - -He had not felt so tranquil in mind for months. Obstacles which had -appeared almost insurmountable had vanished. In the near future he saw -the baron declared innocent by impartial judges; he saw himself -reinstalled in the presbytery of Sairmeuse. - -The recollection of Maurice was the only thing that marred his -happiness. Why did he not give some sign of life? - -"But if he had met with any misfortune we should have heard of it," -thought the priest. "He has with him a brave man--an old soldier who -would risk anything to come and tell us." - -He was so absorbed in these thoughts that he did not observe that Mme. -d'Escorval was leaning more and more heavily upon his arm. - -"I am ashamed to confess it," she said at last, "but I can go no -farther. It has been so long since I was out of doors that I have -almost forgotten how to walk." - -"Fortunately, we are almost there," replied the priest. - -A moment after young Poignot stopped his cart in the road, at the -entrance of the little footpath leading to the Borderie. - -"Our journey is ended!" he remarked to the baron. Then he uttered a -low whistle, like that which he had given a few hours before, to warn -Marie-Anne of his arrival. - -No one appeared; he whistled again, louder this time; then with all -his might--still no response. - -Mme. d'Escorval and the abbe had now overtaken the cart. - -"It is very strange that Marie-Anne does not hear me," remarked young -Poignot, turning to them. "We cannot take the baron to the house until -we have seen her. She knows that very well. Shall I run up and warn -her?" - -"She is asleep, perhaps," replied the abbe; "you stay with your horse, -my boy, and I will go and wake her." - -Certainly he did not feel the slightest disquietude. All was calm and -still; a bright light was shining through the windows of the second -story. - -Still, when he saw the open door, a vague presentiment of evil stirred -his heart. - -"What can this mean?" he thought. - -There was no light in the lower rooms, and the abbe was obliged to -feel for the staircase with his hands. At last he found it and went -up. But upon the threshold of the chamber he paused, petrified with -horror by the spectacle before him. - -Poor Marie-Anne was lying on the floor. Her eyes, which were wide -open, were covered with a white film; her black and swollen tongue was -hanging from her mouth. - -"Dead!" faltered the priest, "dead!" - -But this could not be. The abbe conquered his weakness, and -approaching the poor girl, he took her hand. - -It was icy cold; the arm was rigid as iron. - -"Poisoned!" he murmured; "poisoned with arsenic." - -He rose to his feet, and cast a bewildered glance around the room. His -eyes fell upon his medicine-chest, open upon the table. - -He rushed to it and unhesitatingly took out a vial, uncorked it, and -inverted it on the palm of his hand--it was empty. - -"I was not mistaken!" he exclaimed. - -But he had no time to lose in conjectures. - -The first thing to be done was to induce the baron to return to the -farm-house without telling him the terrible misfortune which had -occurred. - -To find a pretext was easy enough. - -The priest hastened back to the wagon, and with well-affected calmness -told the baron that it would be impossible for him to take up his -abode at the Borderie at present, that several suspicious-looking -characters had been seen prowling about, and that they must be more -prudent than ever, now they could rely upon the kindly intervention of -Martial de Sairmeuse. - -At last, but not without considerable reluctance, the baron yielded. - -"You desire it, cure," he sighed, "so I obey. Come, Poignot, my boy, -take me back to your father's house." - -Mme. d'Escorval took a seat in the cart beside her husband; the priest -watched them as they drove away, and not until the sound of their -carriage-wheels had died away in the distance did he venture to go -back to the Borderie. - -He was ascending the stairs when he heard moans that seemed to issue -from the chamber of death. The sound sent all his blood wildly rushing -to his heart. He darted up the staircase. - -A man was kneeling beside Marie-Anne, weeping bitterly. The expression -of his face, his attitude, his sobs betrayed the wildest despair. He -was so lost in grief that he did not observe the abbe's entrance. - -Who was this mourner who had found his way to the house of death? - -After a moment, the priest divined who the intruder was, though he did -not recognize him. - -"Jean!" he cried, "Jean Lacheneur!" - -With a bound the young man was on his feet, pale and menacing; a flame -of anger drying the tears in his eyes. - -"Who are you?" he demanded, in a terrible voice. "What are you doing -here? What do you wish with me?" - -By his peasant dress and by his long beard, the former cure of -Sairmeuse was so effectually disguised that he was obliged to tell who -he really was. - -As soon as he uttered his name, Jean uttered a cry of joy. - -"God has sent you here!" he exclaimed. "Marie-Anne cannot be dead! -You, who have saved so many others, will save her." - -As the priest sadly pointed to heaven, Jean paused, his face more -ghastly than before. He understood now that there was no hope. - -"Ah!" he murmured, with an accent of frightful despondency, "fate -shows us no mercy. I have been watching over Marie-Anne, though from a -distance; and this very evening I was coming to say to her: 'Beware, -sister--be cautious!'" - -"What! you knew----" - -"I knew she was in great danger; yes, Monsieur. An hour ago, while I -was eating my supper in a restaurant at Sairmeuse, Grollet's son -entered. 'Is this you, Jean?' said he. 'I just saw Chupin hiding near -your sister's house; when he observed me he slunk away.' I ran here -like one crazed. But when fate is against a man, what can he do? I -came too late!" - -The abbe reflected for a moment. - -"Then you suppose that it was Chupin?" - -"I do not suppose, sir; I /swear/ that it was he--the miserable -traitor!--who committed this foul deed." - -"Still, what motive could he have had?" - -Jean burst into one of those discordant laughs that are, perhaps, the -most frightful signs of despair. - -"You may rest assured that the blood of the daughter will yield him a -richer reward than did the father's. Chupin has been the vile -instrument; but it was not he who conceived the crime. You will have -to seek higher for the culprit, much higher, in the finest chateau of -the country, in the midst of an army of valets at Sairmeuse, in -short!" - -"Wretched man, what do you mean?" - -"What I say." - -And coldly, he added: - -"Martial de Sairmeuse is the assassin." The priest recoiled, really -appalled by the looks and manner of the grief-stricken man. - -"You are mad!" he said, severely. - -But Jean gravely shook his head. - -"If I seem so to you, sir," he replied, "it is only because you are -ignorant of Martial's wild passion for Marie-Anne. He wished to make -her his mistress. She had the audacity to refuse this honor; that was -a crime for which she must be punished. When the Marquis de Sairmeuse -became convinced that Lacheneur's daughter would never be his, he -poisoned her that she might not belong to another." - -Any attempt to convince Jean of the folly of his accusation would have -been vain at that moment. No proofs would have convinced him. He would -have closed his eyes to all evidence. - -"To-morrow, when he is more calm, I will reason with him," thought the -abbe; then, turning to Jean, he said: - -"We cannot allow the body of the poor girl to remain here upon the -floor. Assist me, and we will place it upon the bed." - -Jean trembled from head to foot, and his hesitation was apparent. - -"Very well!" he said, at last, after a severe struggle. - -No one had ever slept upon this bed which poor Chanlouineau had -destined for Marie-Anne. - -"It shall be for her," he said to himself, "or for no one." - -And it was Marie-Anne who rested there first--dead. - -When this sad task was accomplished, he threw himself into the same -arm-chair in which Marie-Anne had breathed her last, and with his face -buried in his hands, and his elbows supported upon his knees, he sat -there as silent and motionless as the statues of sorrow placed above -the last resting-places of the dead. - -The abbe knelt at the head of the bed and began the recital of the -prayers for the dead, entreating God to grant peace and happiness in -heaven to her who had suffered so much upon earth. - -But he prayed only with his lips. In spite of his efforts, his mind -would persist in wandering. - -He was striving to solve the mystery that enshrouded Marie-Anne's -death. Had she been murdered? Could it be that she had committed -suicide? - -This explanation recurred to him, but he could not believe it. - -But, on the other hand, how could her death possibly be the result of -a crime? - -He had carefully examined the room, and he had discovered nothing that -betrayed the presence of a stranger. - -All that he could prove was, that his vial of arsenic was empty, and -that Marie-Anne had been poisoned by the bouillon, a few drops of -which were left in the bowl that was standing upon the mantel. - -"When daylight comes," thought the abbe, "I will look outside." - -When morning broke, he went into the garden, and made a careful -examination of the premises. - -At first he saw nothing that gave him the least clew, and was about to -abandon the investigations, when, upon entering the little grove, he -saw in the distance a large dark stain upon the grass. He went -nearer--it was blood! - -Much excited, he summoned Jean, to inform him of the discovery. - -"Someone has been assassinated here," said Lacheneur; "and it happened -last night, for the blood has not had time to dry." - -"The victim lost a great deal of blood," the priest remarked; "it -might be possible to discover who he was by following up these -stains." - -"I am going to try," responded Jean. "Go back to the house, sir; I -will soon return." - -A child might have followed the track of the wounded man, the blood- -stains left in his passage were so frequent and so distinct. - -These tell-tale marks stopped at Chupin's house. The door was closed; -Jean rapped without the slightest hesitation. - -The old poacher's eldest son opened the door, and Jean saw a strange -spectacle. - -The traitor's body had been thrown on the ground, in a corner of the -room, the bed was overturned and broken, all the straw had been torn -from the mattress, and the wife and sons of the dead man, armed with -pickaxes and spades, were wildly overturning the beaten soil that -formed the floor of the hovel. They were seeking the hidden treasures. - -"What do you want?" demanded the widow, rudely. - -"Father Chupin." - -"You can see very plainly that he has been murdered," replied one of -the sons. - -And brandishing his pick a few inches from Jean's head, he exclaimed: - -"And you, perhaps, are the assassin. But that is for justice to -determine. Now, decamp; if you do not----" - -Had he listened to the promptings of anger, Jean Lacheneur would -certainly have attempted to make the Chupins repent their menaces. - -But a conflict was scarcely permissible under the circumstances. - -He departed without a word, and hastened back to the Borderie. - -The death of Chupin overturned all his plans, and greatly irritated -him. - -"I had sworn that the vile wretch who betrayed my father should perish -by my hand," he murmured; "and now my vengeance has escaped me. -Someone has robbed me of it." - -Then he asked himself who the murderer could be. - -"Is it possible that Martial assassinated Chupin after he murdered -Marie-Anne? To kill an accomplice is an effectual way of assuring -one's self of his silence." - -He had reached the Borderie, and was about going upstairs, when he -thought he heard the sound of voices in the back room. - -"That is strange," he said to himself. "Who can it be?" - -And impelled by curiosity, he went and tapped upon the communicating -door. - -The abbe instantly made his appearance, hurriedly closing the door -behind him. He was very pale, and visibly agitated. - -"Who is it?" inquired Jean, eagerly. - -"It is--it is. Guess who it is." - -"How can I guess?" - -"Maurice d'Escorval and Corporal Bavois." - -"My God!" - -"And it is a miracle that he has not been upstairs." - -"But whence does he come? Why have we received no news of him?" - -"I do not know. He has been here only five minutes. Poor boy! after I -told him that his father was safe, his first words were: 'And Marie- -Anne?' He loves her more devotedly than ever. He comes with his heart -full of her, confident and hopeful; and I tremble--I fear to tell him -the truth." - -"Oh, terrible! terrible!" - -"I have warned you; be prudent--and now, come in." - -They entered the room together; and Maurice and the old soldier -greeted Jean with the most ardent expressions of friendship. - -They had not seen each other since the duel on the Reche, which had -been interrupted by the arrival of the soldiers; and when they parted -that day they scarcely expected to meet again. - -"And now we are together once more," said Maurice, gayly, "and we have -nothing to fear." - -Never had the unfortunate man seemed so cheerful; and it was with the -most jubilant air that he explained the reason of his long silence. - -"Three days after we crossed the frontier," said he, "Corporal Bavois -and I reached Turin. It was time, for we were tired out. We went to a -small inn, and they gave us a room with two beds. - -"That evening, while we were undressing, the corporal said to me: 'I -am capable of sleeping two whole days without waking.' I, too, -promised myself a rest of at least twelve hours. We reckoned without -our host, as you will see. - -"It was scarcely daybreak when we were awakened by a great tumult. A -dozen rough-looking men entered our room, and ordered us, in Italian, -to dress ourselves. They were too strong for us, so we obeyed; and an -hour later we were in prison, confined in the same cell. Our -reflections, I confess, were not /couleur de rose/. - -"I well remember how the corporal said again and again, in that cool -way of his: 'It will require four days to obtain our extradition, -three days to take us back to Montaignac--that is seven days; it will -take one day more to try me; so I have in all eight days to live.'" - -"Upon my word! that was exactly what I thought," said the old soldier, -approvingly. - -"For five months," continued Maurice, "instead of saying 'good-night' -to each other, we said: 'To-morrow they will come for us.' But they -did not come. - -"We were kindly treated. They did not take away my money; and they -willingly sold us little luxuries; they also granted us two hours of -exercise each day in the court-yard, and even loaned us books to read. -In short, I should not have had any particular cause to complain, if I -had been allowed to receive or to forward letters, or if I had been -able to communicate with my father or with Marie-Anne. But we were in -the secret cells, and were not allowed to have any intercourse with -the other prisoners. - -"At length our detention seemed so strange and became so insupportable -to us, that we resolved to obtain some explanation of it, cost what it -might. - -"We changed our tactics. Up to that time we had been quite submissive; -we suddenly became violent and intractable. We made the prison resound -with our cries and protestations; we were continually sending for the -superintendent; we claimed the intervention of the French ambassador. -We were not obliged to wait long for the result. - -"One fine afternoon, the superintendent released us, not without -expressing much regret at being deprived of the society of such -amiable and charming guests. - -"Our first act, as you may suppose, was to run to the ambassador. We -did not see that dignitary, but his secretary received us. He knit his -brows when I told my story, and became excessively grave. I remember -each word of his reply. - -"'Monsieur,' said he, 'I can swear that the persecution of which you -have been the object in France had nothing whatever to do with your -detention here.' - -"And as I expressed my astonishment: - -"'One moment,' he added. 'I shall express my opinion very frankly. One -of your enemies--I leave you to discover which one--must exert a very -powerful influence in Turin. You were in his way, perhaps; he had you -imprisoned by the Piedmontese police.'" - -With a heavy blow of his clinched fist, Jean Lacheneur made the table -beside him reel. - -"Ah! the secretary was right!" he exclaimed. "Maurice, it was Martial -de Sairmeuse who caused your arrest----" - -"Or the Marquis de Courtornieu," interrupted the abbe, with a warning -glance at Jean. - -A wrathful light gleamed for an instant in the eyes of Maurice; but it -vanished almost immediately, and he shrugged his shoulders carelessly. - -"Nonsense," said he, "I do not wish to trouble myself any more about -the past. My father is well again, that is the main thing. We can -easily find some way of getting him safely across the frontier. Marie- -Anne and I, by our devotion, will strive to make him forget that my -rashness almost cost him his life. He is so good, so indulgent to the -faults of others. We will take up our residence in Italy or in -Switzerland. You will accompany us, Monsieur l'Abbe, and you also, -Jean. As for you, corporal, it is decided that you belong to our -family." - -Nothing could be more horrible than to see this man, upon whose life -such a terrible blight was about to fall, so bright and full of hope -and confidence. - -The impression produced upon Jean and the abbe was so terrible, that, -in spite of their efforts, it showed itself in their faces; and -Maurice remarked their agitation. - -"What is the matter?" he inquired, in evident surprise. - -They trembled, hung their heads, but did not say a word. - -The unfortunate man's astonishment changed to a vague, inexpressible -fear. - -He enumerated all the misfortunes which could possibly have befallen -him. - -"What has happened?" he asked, in a stifled voice. "My father is safe, -is he not? You said that my mother would desire nothing, if I were -with her again. Is it Marie-Anne----" - -He hesitated. - -"Courage, Maurice," murmured the abbe. "Courage!" - -The stricken man tottered as if about to fall; his face grew whiter -than the plastered wall against which he leaned for support. - -"Marie-Anne is dead!" he exclaimed. - -Jean and the abbe were silent. - -"Dead!" Maurice repeated--"and no secret voice warned me! Dead! when?" - -"She died only last night," replied Jean. - -Maurice rose. - -"Last night?" said he. "In that case, then, she is still here. Where? -upstairs?" - -And without waiting for any response, he darted toward the staircase -so quickly that neither Jean nor the abbe had time to intercept him. - -With three bounds he reached the chamber; he walked straight to the -bed, and with a firm hand turned back the sheet that hid the face of -the dead. - -He recoiled with a heart-broken cry. - -Was this indeed the beautiful, the radiant Marie-Anne, whom he had -loved to his own undoing! He did not recognize her. - -He could not recognize these distorted features, this face swollen and -discolored by poison, these eyes which were almost concealed by the -purple swelling around them. - -When Jean and the priest entered the room they found him standing with -head thrown back, eyes dilated with terror, and rigid arm extended -toward the corpse. - -"Maurice," said the priest, gently, "be calm. Courage!" - -He turned with an expression of complete bewilderment upon his -features. - -"Yes," he faltered, "that is what I need--courage!" - -He staggered; they were obliged to support him to an arm-chair. - -"Be a man," continued the priest; "where is your energy? To live, is -to suffer." - -He listened, but did not seem to comprehend. - -"Live!" he murmured, "why should I desire to live since she is dead?" - -The dread light of insanity glittered in his dry eyes. The abbe was -alarmed. - -"If he does not weep, he will lose his reason!" he thought. - -And in an imperious voice, he said: - -"You have no right to despair thus; you owe a sacred duty to your -child." - -He recoiled with a heart-broken cry. - -The recollection which had given Marie-Anne strength to hold death at -bay for a moment, saved Maurice from the dangerous torpor into which -he was sinking. He trembled as if he had received an electric shock, -and springing from his chair: - -"That is true," he cried. "Take me to my child." - -"Not just now, Maurice; wait a little." - -"Where is it? Tell me where it is." - -"I cannot; I do not know." - -An expression of unspeakable anguish stole over the face of Maurice, -and in a husky voice he said: - -"What! you do not know! Did she not confide in you?" - -"No. I suspected her secret. I alone----" - -"You, alone! Then the child is dead, perhaps. Even if it is living, -who can tell me where it is?" - -"We shall undoubtedly find something that will give us a clew." - -"You are right," faltered the wretched man. "When Marie-Anne knew that -her life was in danger, she would not have forgotten her child. Those -who cared for her in her last moments must have received some message -for me. I wish to see those who watched over her. Who were they?" - -The priest averted his face. - -"I asked you who was with her when she died," repeated Maurice, in a -sort of frenzy. - -And, as the abbe remained silent, a terrible light dawned on the mind -of the stricken man. He understood the cause of Marie-Anne's distorted -features now. - -"She perished the victim of a crime!" he exclaimed. - -"Some monster has killed her. If she died such a death, our child is -lost forever! And it was I who recommended, who commanded the greatest -precautions! Ah! it is a curse upon me!" - -He sank back in his chair, overwhelmed with sorrow and remorse, and -silent tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. - -"He is saved!" thought the abbe, whose heart bled at the sight of such -despair. Suddenly someone plucked him by the sleeve. - -It was Jean Lacheneur, and he drew the priest into the embrasure of a -window. - -"What is this about a child?" he asked, harshly. - -A flood of crimson suffused the brow of the priest. - -"You have heard," he responded, laconically. - -"Am I to understand that Marie-Anne was the mistress of Maurice, and -that she had a child by him? Is this true? I will not--I cannot -believe it! She, whom I revered as a saint! Did her pure forehead and -her chaste looks lie? And he--Maurice--he whom I loved as a brother! -So, his friendship was only a mask assumed to enable him to steal our -honor!" - -He hissed these words through his set teeth in such low tones that -Maurice, absorbed in his agony of grief, did not overhear him. - -"But how did she conceal her shame?" he continued. "No one suspected -it--absolutely no one. And what has she done with her child? Appalled -by a dread of disgrace, did she commit the crime committed by so many -other ruined and forsaken women? Did she murder her own child?" - -A hideous smile curved his thin lips. - -"If the child is alive," he added, "I will find it, and Maurice shall -be punished for his perfidy as he deserves." He paused; the sound of -horses' hoofs upon the road attracted his attention, and that of Abbe -Midon. - -They glanced out of the window and saw a horseman stop before the -little footpath, alight from his horse, throw the reins to his groom, -and advance toward the Borderie. - -At the sight of the visitor, Jean Lacheneur uttered the frightful howl -of an infuriated wild beast. - -"The Marquis de Sairmeuse here!" he exclaimed. - -He sprang to Maurice, and shaking him violently, he cried: - -"Up! here is Martial, Marie-Anne's murderer! Up! he is coming! he is -at our mercy!" - -Maurice sprang up in a fury of passion, but the abbe darted to the -door and intercepted the infuriated men as they were about to leave -the room. - -"Not a word, young men, not a threat!" he said, imperiously. "I forbid -it. At least respect the dead who is lying here!" - -There was such an irresistible authority in his words and glance, that -Jean and Maurice stood as if turned to stone. - -Before the priest had time to say more, Martial was there. - -He did not cross the threshold. With a glance he took in the whole -scene; he turned very pale, but not a gesture, not a word escaped his -lips. - -Wonderful as was his accustomed control over himself, he could not -articulate a syllable; and it was only by pointing to the bed upon -which Marie-Anne's lifeless form was reposing, that he asked an -explanation. - -"She was infamously poisoned last evening," replied the abbe, sadly. - -Maurice, forgetting the priest's commands, stepped forward. - -"She was alone and defenceless. I have been at liberty only two days. -But I know the name of the man who had me arrested at Turin, and -thrown into prison. They told me the coward's name!" - -Instinctively Martial recoiled. - -"It was you, infamous wretch!" exclaimed Maurice. "You confess your -guilt, scoundrel?" - -Once again the abbe interposed; he threw himself between the rivals, -persuaded that Martial was about to attack Maurice. - -But no; the Marquis de Sairmeuse had resumed the haughty and -indifferent manner which was habitual to him. He took from his pocket -a bulky envelope, and throwing it upon the table: - -"Here," he said coldly, "is what I was bringing to Mademoiselle -Lacheneur. It contains first a safe-conduct from His Majesty for -Monsieur d'Escorval. From this moment, he is at liberty to leave -Poignot's farm-house and return to Escorval. He is free, he is saved, -he is granted a new trial, and there can be no doubt of his acquittal. -Here is also a decree of his non-complicity rendered in favor of Abbe -Midon, and an order from the bishop which reinstates him as Cure of -Sairmeuse; and lastly, a discharge, drawn up in due form, and an -acknowledged right to a pension in the name of Corporal Bavois." - -He paused, and as his astonished hearers stood rooted to their places -with wonder, he turned and approached Marie-Anne's bedside. - -With hand uplifted to heaven over the lifeless form of her whom he had -loved, and in a voice that would have made the murderess tremble in -her innermost soul, he said, solemnly: - -"To you, Marie-Anne, I swear that I will avenge you!" - -For a few seconds he stood motionless, then suddenly he stopped, -pressed a kiss upon the dead girl's brow, and left the room. - -"And you think that man can be guilty!" exclaimed the abbe. "You see, -Jean, that you are mad!" - -"And this last insult to my dead sister is an honor, I suppose," said -Jean, with a furious gesture. - -"And the wretch binds my hands by saving my father!" exclaimed -Maurice. - -From his place by the window, the abbe saw Martial remount his horse. - -But the marquis did not take the road to Montaignac. It was toward the -Chateau de Courtornieu that he hastened. - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII - -The reason of Mme. Blanche had sustained a frightful shock, when -Chupin was obliged to lift her and carry her from Marie-Anne's -chamber. - -But she lost consciousness entirely when she saw the old poacher -stricken down by her side. - -On and after that night Aunt Medea took her revenge for all the -slights she had received. - -Scarcely tolerated until then at Courtornieu, she henceforth made -herself respected, and even feared. - -She, who usually swooned if a kitten hurt itself, did not utter a cry. -Her extreme fear gave her the courage that not unfrequently animates -cowards when they are in some dire extremity. - -She seized the arm of her bewildered niece, and, by dint of dragging -and pushing, had her back at the chateau in much less time than it had -taken them to go to the Borderie. - -It was half-past one o'clock when they reached the little garden-gate, -by which they had left the grounds. - -No one in the chateau was aware of their long absence. - -This was due to several different circumstances. First, to the -precautions taken by Blanche, who had given orders, before going out, -that no one should come to her room, on any pretext whatever, unless -she rang. - -It also chanced to be the birthday of the marquis's /valet de -chambre/. The servants had dined more sumptuously than usual. They had -toasts and songs over their dessert; and at the conclusion of the -repast, they amused themselves by an extempore ball. - -They were still dancing at half-past one; all the doors were open, and -the two ladies succeeded in gaining the chamber of Blanche without -being observed. - -When the doors of the apartment had been securely closed, and when -there was no longer any fear of listeners, Aunt Medea attacked her -niece. - -"Now will you explain what happened at the Borderie; and what you were -doing there?" she inquired. - -Blanche shuddered. - -"Why do you wish to know?" she asked. - -"Because I suffered agony during the three hours that I spent in -waiting for you. What was the meaning of those despairing cries that I -heard? Why did you call for aid? I heard a death-rattle that made my -hair stand on end with terror. Why was it necessary for Chupin to -bring you out in his arms?" - -Aunt Medea would have packed her trunks, perhaps, that very evening, -had she seen the glance which her niece bestowed upon her. - -Blanche longed for power to annihilate this relative--this witness who -might ruin her by a word, but whom she would ever have beside her, a -living reproach for her crime. - -"You do not answer me," insisted Aunt Medea. - -Blanche was trying to decide whether it would be better for her to -reveal the truth, horrible as it was, or to invent some plausible -explanation. - -To confess all! It would be intolerable. She would place herself, body -and soul, in Aunt Medea's power. - -But, on the other hand, if she deceived her, was it not more than -probable that her aunt would betray her by some involuntary -exclamation when she heard of the crime which had been committed at -the Borderie? - -"For she is so stupid!" thought Blanche. - -She felt that it would be the wisest plan, under such circumstances, -to be perfectly frank, to teach her relative her lesson, and to imbue -her with some of her own firmness. - -Having come to this conclusion, she disdained all concealment. - -"Ah, well!" she said, "I was jealous of Marie-Anne. I thought she was -Martial's mistress. I was half crazed, and I killed her." - -She expected despairing cries, or a fainting fit; nothing of the kind. -Stupid though Aunt Medea was, she had divined the truth before she -interrogated her niece. Besides, the insults she had received for -years had extinguished every generous sentiment, dried up the springs -of emotion, and destroyed every particle of moral sensibility she had -ever possessed. - -"Ah!" she exclaimed, "it is terrible! What if it should be -discovered!" - -Then she shed a few tears, but not more than she had often wept for -some trifle. - -Blanche breathed more freely. Surely she could count upon the silence -and absolute submission of her dependent relative. Convinced of this, -she began to recount all the details of the frightful drama which had -been enacted at the Borderie. - -She yielded to a desire which was stronger than her own will; to the -wild longing that sometimes unbinds the tongue of the worst criminals, -and forces them--irresistibly impels them--to talk of their crimes, -even when they distrust their confidant. - -But when she came to the proofs which had convinced her of her -lamentable mistake, she suddenly paused in dismay. - -That certificate of marriage signed by the Cure of Vigano; what had -she done with it? where was it? She remembered holding it in her -hands. - -She sprang up, examined the pocket of her dress and uttered a cry of -joy. She had it safe. She threw it into a drawer, and turned the key. - -Aunt Medea wished to retire to her own room, but Blanche entreated her -to remain. She was unwilling to be left alone--she dared not--she was -afraid. - -And as if she desired to silence the inward voice that tormented her, -she talked with extreme volubility, repeating again and again that she -was ready to do anything in expiation of her crime, and that she would -brave impossibilities to recover Marie-Anne's child. - -And certainly, the task was both difficult and dangerous. - -If she sought the child openly, it would be equivalent to a confession -of guilt. She would be compelled to act secretly, and with great -caution. - -"But I shall succeed," she said. "I will spare no expense." - -And remembering her vow, and the threats of her dying victim, she -added: - -"I must succeed. I have sworn--and I was forgiven under those -conditions." - -Astonishment dried the ever ready tears of Aunt Medea. - -That her niece, with her dreadful crime still fresh in her mind, could -coolly reason, deliberate, and make plans for the future, seemed to -her incomprehensible. - -"What an iron will!" she thought. - -But in her bewilderment she quite overlooked something that would have -enlightened any ordinary observer. - -Blanche was seated upon her bed, her hair was unbound, her eyes were -glittering with delirium, and her incoherent words and her excited -gestures betrayed the frightful anxiety that was torturing her. - -And she talked and talked, exclaiming, questioning Aunt Medea, and -forcing her to reply, only that she might escape from her own -thoughts. - -Morning had dawned some time before, and the servants were heard -bustling about the chateau, and Blanche, oblivious to all around her, -was still explaining how she could, in less than a year, restore -Marie-Anne's child to Maurice d'Escorval. - -She paused abruptly in the middle of a sentence. - -Instinct had suddenly warned her of the danger she incurred in making -the slightest change in her habits. - -She sent Aunt Medea away, then, at the usual hour, rang for her maid. - -It was nearly eleven o'clock, and she was just completing her toilet, -when the ringing of the bell announced a visitor. - -Almost immediately a maid appeared, evidently in a state of great -excitement. - -"What is it?" inquired Blanche, eagerly. "Who has come?" - -"Ah, Madame--that is, Mademoiselle, if you only knew----" - -"/Will/ you speak?" - -"The Marquis de Sairmeuse is below, in the blue drawing-room; and he -begs Mademoiselle to grant him a few moments' conversation." - -Had a thunder-bolt riven the earth at the feet of the murderess, she -could not have been more terrified. - -"All must have been discovered!" this was her first thought. That -alone would have brought Martial there. - -She almost decided to reply that she was not at home, or that she was -extremely ill; but reason told her that she was alarming herself -needlessly, perhaps, and that, in any case, the worst was preferable -to suspense. - -"Tell the marquis that I will be there in a moment," she replied. - -She desired a few minutes of solitude to compose her features, to -regain her self-possession, if possible, and to conquer the nervous -trembling that made her shake like a leaf. - -But just as she was most disquieted by the thought of her peril, a -sudden inspiration brought a malicious smile to her lip. - -"Ah!" she thought, "my agitation will seem perfectly natural. It may -even be made of service." - -As she descended the grand staircase, she could not help saying to -herself: - -"Martial's presence here is incomprehensible." - -It was certainly very extraordinary; and it had not been without much -hesitation that he resolved upon this painful step. - -But it was the only means of procuring several important documents -which were indispensable in the revision of M. d'Escorval's case. - -These documents, after the baron's condemnation, had been left in the -hands of the Marquis de Courtornieu. Now that he had lost his reason, -it was impossible to ask him for them; and Martial was obliged to -apply to the daughter for permission to search for them among her -father's papers. - -This was why Martial said to himself that morning: - -"I will carry the baron's safe-conduct to Marie-Anne, and then I will -push on to Courtornieu." - -He arrived at the Borderie gay and confident, his heart full of hope. -Alas! Marie-Anne was dead. - -No one would ever know what a terrible blow it had been to Martial; -and his conscience told him that he was not free from blame; that he -had, at least, rendered the execution of the crime an easy matter. - -For it was indeed he who, by abusing his influence, had caused the -arrest of Maurice at Turin. - -But though he was capable of the basest perfidy when his love was at -stake, he was incapable of virulent animosity. - -Marie-Anne was dead; he had it in his power to revoke the benefits he -had conferred, but the thought of doing so never once occurred to him. -And when Jean and Maurice insulted him, he revenged himself only by -overwhelming them by his magnanimity. When he left the Borderie, pale -as a ghost, his lips still cold from the kiss pressed on the brow of -the dead, he said to himself: - -"For her sake, I will go to Courtornieu. In memory of her, the baron -must be saved." - -By the expression on the faces of the valets when he dismounted in the -court-yard of the chateau and asked to see Mme. Blanche, the marquis -was again reminded of the profound sensation which this unexpected -visit would produce. But, what did it matter to him? He was passing -through one of those crises in which the mind can conceive of no -further misfortune, and is therefore indifferent to everything. - -Still he trembled when they ushered him into the blue drawing-room. He -remembered the room well. It was here that Blanche had been wont to -receive him in days gone by, when his fancy was vacillating between -her and Marie-Anne. - -How many pleasant hours they had passed together here! He seemed to -see Blanche again, as she was then, radiant with youth, gay and -laughing. Her naivete was affected, perhaps, but was it any the less -charming on that account? - -At this very moment Blanche entered the room. She looked so careworn -and sad that he scarcely knew her. His heart was touched by the look -of patient sorrow imprinted upon her features. - -"How much you must have suffered, Blanche," he murmured, scarcely -knowing what he said. - -It cost her an effort to repress her secret joy. She saw that he knew -nothing of her crime. She noticed his emotion, and saw the profit she -could derive from it. - -"I can never cease to regret having displeased you," she replied, -humbly and sadly. "I shall never be consoled." - -She had touched the vulnerable spot in every man's heart. - -For there is no man so sceptical, so cold, or so /blase/ that his -vanity is not pleased with the thought that a woman is dying for his -sake. - -There is no man who is not moved by this most delicious flattery, and -who is not ready and willing to give, at least, a tender pity in -exchange for such devotion. - -"Is it possible that you could forgive me?" stammered Martial. - -The wily enchantress averted her face as if to prevent him from -reading in her eyes a weakness of which she was ashamed. It was the -most eloquent of replies. - -But Martial said no more on this subject. He made known his petition, -which was granted, then fearing, perhaps, to promise too much, he -said: - -"Since you do not forbid it, Blanche, I will return--to-morrow-- -another day." - -As he rode back to Montaignac, Martial's thoughts were busy. - -"She really loves me," he thought; "that pallor, that weakness could -not be feigned. Poor girl! she is my wife, after all. The reasons that -influenced me in my rupture with her father exist no longer, and the -Marquis de Courtornieu may be regarded as dead." - -All the inhabitants of Sairmeuse were congregated on the public square -when Martial passed through the village. They had just heard of the -murder at the Borderie, and the abbe was now closeted with the justice -of the peace, relating the circumstances of the poisoning. - -After a prolonged inquest the following verdict was rendered: "That a -man known as Chupin, a notoriously bad character, had entered the -house of Marie-Anne Lacheneur, and taken advantage of her absence to -mingle poison with her food." - -The report added that: "Said Chupin had been himself assassinated, -soon after his crime, by a certain Balstain, whose whereabouts were -unknown." - -But this affair interested the community much less than the visits -which Martial was paying to Mme. Blanche. - -It was soon rumored that the Marquis and the Marquise de Sairmeuse -were reconciled, and in a few weeks they left for Paris with the -intention of residing there permanently. A few days after their -departure, the eldest of the Chupins announced his determination of -taking up his abode in the same great city. - -Some of his friends endeavored to dissuade him, assuring him that he -would certainly die of starvation. - -"Nonsense!" he replied, with singular assurance; "I, on the contrary, -have an idea that I shall not want for anything there." - - - -CHAPTER XLIX - -Time gradually heals all wounds, and in less than a year it was -difficult to discern any trace of the fierce whirlwind of passion -which had devastated the peaceful valley of the Oiselle. - -What remained to attest the reality of all these events, which, though -they were so recent, had already been relegated to the domain of the -legendary? - -A charred ruin on the Reche. - -A grave in the cemetery, upon which was inscribed: - -"Marie-Anne Lacheneur, died at the age of twenty. Pray for her!" - -Only a few, the oldest men and the politicians of the village, forgot -their solicitude in regard to the crops to remember this episode. - -Sometimes, during the long winter evenings, when they had gathered at -the Boeuf Couronne, they laid down their greasy cards and gravely -discussed the events of the past years. - -They never failed to remark that almost all the actors in that bloody -drama at Montaignac had, in common parlance, "come to a bad end." - -Victors and vanquished seemed to be pursued by the same inexorable -fatality. - -Look at the names already upon the fatal list! - -Lacheneur, beheaded. - -Chanlouineau, shot. - -Marie-Anne, poisoned. - -Chupin, the traitor, assassinated. - -The Marquis de Courtornieu lived, or rather survived, but death would -have seemed a mercy in comparison with such total annihilation of -intelligence. He had fallen below the level of the brute, which is, at -least, endowed with instinct. Since the departure of his daughter he -had been cared for by two servants, who did not allow him to give them -much trouble, and when they desired to go out they shut him up, not in -his chamber, but in the cellar, to prevent his ravings and shrieks -from being heard from without. - -If people supposed for awhile that the Sairmeuse would escape the fate -of the others, they were mistaken. It was not long before the curse -fell upon them. - -One fine morning in the month of December, the duke left the chateau -to take part in a wolf-hunt in the neighborhood. - -At nightfall, his horse returned, panting, covered with foam, and -riderless. - -What had become of its master? - -A search was instituted at once, and all night long twenty men, -bearing torches, wandered through the woods, shouting and calling at -the top of their voices. - -Five days went by, and the search for the missing man was almost -abandoned, when a shepherd lad, pale with fear, came to the chateau -one morning to tell them that he had discovered, at the base of a -precipice, the bloody and mangled body of the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -It seemed strange that such an excellent rider should have met with -such a fate. There might have been some doubt as to its being an -accident, had it not been for the explanation given by the grooms. - -"The duke was riding an exceedingly vicious beast," said these men. -"She was always taking fright and shying at everything." - -The following week Jean Lacheneur left the neighborhood. - -The conduct of this singular man had caused much comment. When Marie- -Anne died, he at first refused his inheritance. - -"I wish nothing that came to her through Chanlouineau!" he said -everywhere, thus calumniating the memory of his sister as he had -calumniated her when alive. - -Then, after a short absence, and without any apparent reason, he -suddenly changed his mind. - -He not only accepted the property, but made all possible haste to -obtain possession of it. He made many excuses; and, if one might -believe him, he was not acting in his own interest, but merely -conforming to the wishes of his deceased sister; and he declared that -not a penny would go into his pockets. - -This much is certain, as soon as he obtained legal possession of the -estate, he sold all the property, troubling himself but little in -regard to the price he received, provided the purchasers paid cash. - -He reserved only the furniture of the sumptuously adorned chamber at -the Borderie. These articles he burned. - -This strange act was the talk of the neighborhood. - -"The poor young man has lost his reason!" was the almost universal -opinion. - -And those who doubted it, doubted it no longer when it became known -that Jean Lacheneur had formed an engagement with a company of -strolling players who stopped at Montaignac for a few days. - -But the young man had not wanted for good advice and kind friends. M. -d'Escorval and the abbe had exerted all their eloquence to induce him -to return to Paris, and complete his studies; but in vain. - -The necessity for concealment no longer existed, either in the case of -the baron or the priest. - -Thanks to Martial de Sairmeuse they were now installed, the one in the -presbytery, the other at Escorval, as in days gone by. - -Acquitted at his new trial, restored to the possession of his -property, reminded of his frightful fall only by a very slight -lameness, the baron would have deemed himself a fortunate man, had it -not been for his great anxiety on his son's account. - -Poor Maurice! his heart was broken by the sound of the clods of earth -falling upon Marie-Anne's coffin; and his very life now seemed -dependent upon the hope of finding his child. - -Assured of the powerful assistance of Abbe Midon, he had confessed all -to his father, and confided his secret to Corporal Bavois, who was an -honored guest at Escorval; and these devoted friends had promised him -all possible aid. - -The task was very difficult, however, and certain resolutions on the -part of Maurice greatly diminished the chance of success. - -Unlike Jean, he was determined to guard religiously the honor of the -dead; and he had made /his/ friends promise that Marie-Anne's name -should not be mentioned in prosecuting the search. - -"We shall succeed all the same," said the abbe, kindly; "with time and -patience any mystery can be solved." - -He divided the department into a certain number of districts; then one -of the little band went each day from house to house questioning the -inmates, but not without extreme caution, for fear of arousing -suspicion, for a peasant becomes intractable at once if his suspicions -are aroused. - -But the weeks went by, and the quest was fruitless. Maurice was deeply -discouraged. - -"My child died on coming into the world," he said, again and again. - -But the abbe reassured him. - -"I am morally certain that such was not the case," he replied. "I -know, by Marie-Anne's absence, the date of her child's birth. I saw -her after her recovery; she was comparatively gay and smiling. Draw -your own conclusions." - -"And yet there is not a nook or corner for miles around which we have -not explored." - -"True; but we must extend the circle of our investigations." - -The priest, now, was only striving to gain time, knowing full well -that it is the sovereign balm for all sorrows. - -His confidence, which had been very great at first, had been sensibly -diminished by the responses of an old woman, who passed for one of the -greatest gossips in the community. - -Adroitly interrogated, the worthy dame replied that she knew nothing -of such a child, but that there must be one in the neighborhood, since -it was the third time she had been questioned on the subject. - -Intense as was his surprise, the abbe succeeded in hiding it. - -He set the old gossip to talking, and after a two hours' conversation, -he arrived at the conclusion that two persons besides Maurice were -searching for Marie-Anne's child. - -Why, with what aim, and who these persons could be the abbe was unable -to ascertain. - -"Ah! rascals have their uses after all," he thought. "If we only had a -man like Chupin to set upon the track!" - -But the old poacher was dead, and his eldest son--the one who knew -Blanche de Courtornieu's secret--was in Paris. - -Only the widow and the second son remained in Sairmeuse. - -They had not, as yet, succeeded in discovering the twenty thousand -francs, but the fever for gold was burning in their veins, and they -persisted in their search. From morning until night the mother and son -toiled on, until the earth around their hut had been explored to the -depth of six feet. - -A word dropped by a peasant one day put an end to these researches. - -"Really, my boy," he said, addressing young Chupin, "I did not suppose -you were such a fool as to persist in hunting birds' nests after the -birds have flown. Your brother, who is in Paris, can undoubtedly tell -you where the treasure was concealed." - -The younger Chupin uttered the fierce roar of a wild beast. - -"Holy Virgin! you are right!" he exclaimed. "Wait until I get money -enough to take me to Paris, and we will see." - - - -CHAPTER L - -Martial de Sairmeuse's unexpected visit to the Chateau de Courtornieu -had alarmed Aunt Medea even more than Blanche. - -In ten seconds, more ideas passed through her brain than had visited -it for ten years. - -She saw the gendarmes at the chateau; she saw her niece arrested, -incarcerated in the Montaignac prison, and brought before the Court of -Assizes. - -If this were all she had to fear! But suppose she, too, were -compromised, suspected of complicity, dragged before the judge, and -even accused of being the sole culprit! - -Finding the suspense intolerable, she left her room; and, stealing on -tiptoe to the great drawing-room, she applied her ear to the door of -the little blue salon, in which Blanche and Martial were seated. - -The conversation which she heard convinced her that her fears were -groundless. - -She drew a long breath, as if a mighty burden had been lifted from her -breast. But a new idea, which was to grow, flourish, and bear fruit, -had just taken root in her brain. - -When Martial left the room, Aunt Medea at once opened the -communicating door and entered the blue salon, thus avowing that she -had been a listener. - -Twenty-four hours earlier she would not have dreamed of committing -such an enormity. - -"Well, Blanche, we were frightened at nothing," she exclaimed. - -Blanche did not reply. - -She was deliberating, forcing herself to weigh the probable -consequences of all these events which had succeeded each other with -such marvellous rapidity. - -"Perhaps the hour of my revenge is almost here," murmured Blanche, as -if communing with herself. - -"What do you say?" inquired Aunt Medea, with evident curiosity. - -"I say, aunt, that in less than a month I shall be Marquise de -Sairmeuse in reality as well as in name. My husband will return to me, -and then--oh, then!" - -"God grant it!" said Aunt Medea, hypocritically. - -In her secret heart she had but little faith in this prediction, and -whether it was realized or not mattered little to her. - -"Still another proof that your jealousy led you astray; and that--that -what you did at the Borderie was unnecessary," she said, in that low -tone that accomplices always use in speaking of their crime. - -Such had been the opinion of Blanche; but she now shook her head, and -gloomily replied: - -"You are wrong; that which took place at the Borderie has restored my -husband to me. I understand it all, now. It is true that Marie-Anne -was not Martial's mistress, but Martial loved her. He loved her, and -the rebuffs which he received only increased his passion. It was for -her sake that he abandoned me; and never, while she lived, would he -have thought of me. His emotion on seeing me was the remnant of the -emotion which had been awakened by another. His tenderness was only -the expression of his sorrow. Whatever happens, I shall have only her -leavings--what she has disdained!" the young marquise added, bitterly; -and her eyes flashed, and she stamped her foot in ungovernable anger. -"And shall I regret what I have done?" she exclaimed; "never! no, -never!" - -From that moment, she was herself again, brave and determined. - -But horrible fears assailed her when the inquest began. - -Officials came from Montaignac charged with investigating the affair. -They examined a host of witnesses, and there was even talk of sending -to Paris for one of those detectives skilled in unravelling all the -mysteries of crime. - -Aunt Medea was half crazed with terror; and her fear was so apparent -that it caused Blanche great anxiety. - -"You will end by betraying us," she remarked, one evening. - -"Ah! my terror is beyond my control." - -"If that is the case, do not leave your room." - -"It would be more prudent, certainly." - -"You can say that you are not well; your meals shall be served in your -own apartment." - -Aunt Medea's face brightened. In her inmost heart she was enraptured. -To have her meals served in her own room, in her bed in the morning, -and on a little table by the fire in the evening, had long been the -ambition and the dream of the poor dependent. But how to accomplish -it! Two or three times, being a trifle indisposed, she had ventured to -ask if her breakfast might be brought to her room, but her request had -been harshly refused. - -"If Aunt Medea is hungry, she will come down and take her place at the -table as usual," had been the response of Mme. Blanche. - -To be treated in this way in a chateau where there were a dozen -servants standing about idle was hard indeed. - -But now---- - -Every morning, in obedience to a formal order from Blanche, the cook -came up to receive Aunt Medea's commands; she was permitted to dictate -the bill-of-fare each day, and to order the dishes that she preferred. - -These new joys awakened many strange thoughts in her mind, and -dissipated much of the regret which she had felt for the crime at the -Borderie. - -The inquest was the subject of all her conversation with her niece. -They had all the latest information in regard to the facts developed -by the investigation through the butler, who took a great interest in -such matters, and who had won the good-will of the agents from -Montaignac, by making them familiar with the contents of his wine- -cellar. - -Through him, Blanche and her aunt learned that suspicion pointed to -the deceased Chupin. Had he not been seen prowling around the Borderie -on the very evening that the crime was committed? The testimony of the -young peasant who had warned Jean Lacheneur seemed decisive. - -The motive was evident; at least, everyone thought so. Twenty persons -had heard Chupin declare, with frightful oaths, that he should never -be tranquil in mind while a Lacheneur was left upon earth. - -So that which might have ruined Blanche, saved her; and the death of -the old poacher seemed really providential. - -Why should she suspect that Chupin had revealed her secret before his -death? - -When the butler told her that the judges and the police agents had -returned to Montaignac, she had great difficulty in concealing her -joy. - -"There is no longer anything to fear," she said to Aunt Medea. - -She had, indeed, escaped the justice of man. There remained the -justice of God. - -A few weeks before, this thought of "the justice of God" might, -perhaps, have brought a smile to the lips of Mme. Blanche. - -She then regarded it as an imaginary evil, designed to hold timorous -spirits in check. - -On the morning that followed her crime, she almost shrugged her -shoulders at the thought of Marie-Anne's dying threats. - -She remembered her promise, but she did not intend to fulfil it. - -She had considered the matter, and she saw the terrible risk to which -she exposed herself if she endeavored to find the missing child. - -"The father will be sure to discover it," she thought. - -But she was to realize the power of her victim's threats that same -evening. - -Overcome with fatigue, she retired to her room at an early hour, and -instead of reading, as she was accustomed to do before retiring, she -extinguished her candle as soon as she had undressed, saying: - -"I must sleep." - -But sleep had fled. Her crime was ever in her thoughts; it rose before -her in all its horror and atrocity. She knew that she was lying upon -her bed, at Courtornieu; and yet it seemed as if she was there in -Chanlouineau's house, pouring out poison, then watching its effects, -concealed in the dressing-room. - -She was struggling against these thoughts; she was exerting all her -strength of will to drive away these terrible memories, when she -thought she heard the key turn in the lock. She lifted her head from -the pillow with a start. - -Then, by the uncertain light of her night-lamp, she thought she saw -the door open slowly and noiselessly. Marie-Anne entered--gliding in -like a phantom. She seated herself in an arm-chair near the bed. Great -tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she looked sadly, yet -threateningly, around her. - -The murderess hid her face under the bed-covers; and her whole body -was bathed in an icy perspiration. For her, this was not a mere -apparition--it was a frightful reality. - -But hers was not a nature to submit unresistingly to such an -impression. She shook off the stupor that was creeping over her, and -tried to reason with herself aloud, as if the sound of her voice would -reassure her. - -"I am dreaming!" she said. "Do the dead return to life? Am I childish -enough to be frightened by phantoms born of my own imaginations?" - -She said this, but the phantom did not disappear. - -She shut her eyes, but still she saw it through her closed eyelids-- -through the coverings which she had drawn up over her head, she saw it -still. - -Not until daybreak did Mme. Blanche fall asleep. - -And it was the same the next night, and the night following that, and -always and always; and the terrors of each night were augmented by the -terrors of the nights which had preceded it. - -During the day, in the bright sunshine, she regained her courage, and -became sceptical again. Then she railed at herself. - -"To be afraid of something that does not exist, is folly!" she said, -vehemently. "To-night I will conquer my absurd weakness." - -But when evening came all her brave resolution vanished, and the same -fear seized her when night appeared with its /cortege/ of spectres. - -It is true that Mme. Blanche attributed her tortures at night to the -disquietude she suffered during the day. - -For the officials were at Sairmeuse then, and she trembled. A mere -nothing might divert suspicion from Chupin and direct it toward her. -What if some peasant had seen her with Chupin? What if some trifling -circumstance should furnish a clew which would lead straight to -Courtornieu? - -"When the investigation is over, I shall forget," she thought. - -It ended, but she did not forget. - -Darwin has said: - -"It is when their safety is assured that great criminals really feel -remorse." - -Mme. Blanche might have vouched for the truth of this assertion, made -by the most profound thinker and closest observer of the age. - -And yet, the agony she was enduring did not make her abandon, for a -single moment, the plan she had conceived on the day of Martial's -visit. - -She played her part so well, that, deeply moved, almost repentant, he -returned five or six times, and at last, one day, he besought her to -allow him to remain. - -But even the joy of this triumph did not restore her peace of mind. - -Between her and her husband rose that dread apparition; and Marie- -Anne's distorted features were ever before her. She knew only too well -that this heart-broken man had no love to give her, and that she would -never have the slightest influence over him. And to crown all, to her -already intolerable sufferings was added another, more poignant than -all the rest. - -Speaking one evening of Marie-Anne's death, Martial forgot himself, -and spoke of his oath of vengeance. He deeply regretted that Chupin -was dead, he remarked, for he should have experienced an intense -delight in making the wretch who murdered her /die/ a lingering death -in the midst of the most frightful tortures. - -He spoke with extreme violence and in a voice vibrant with his still -powerful passion. - -And Blanche, in terror, asked herself what would be her fate if her -husband ever discovered that she was the culprit--and he might -discover it. - -She now began to regret that she had not kept the promise she had made -to her victim; and she resolved to commence the search for Marie- -Anne's child. - -To do this effectually it was necessary for her to be in a large city ---Paris, for example--where she could procure discreet and skilful -agents. - -It was necessary to persuade Martial to remove to the capital. Aided -by the Duc de Sairmeuse, she did not find this a very difficult task; -and one morning, Mme. Blanche, with a radiant face, announced to Aunt -Medea: - -"Aunt, we leave just one week from to-day." - - - -CHAPTER LI - -Beset by a thousand fears and anxieties, Blanche had failed to notice -that Aunt Medea was no longer the same. - -The change, it is true, had been gradual; it had not struck the -servants, but it was none the less positive and real, and it betrayed -itself in numberless trifles. - -For example, though the poor dependent still retained her humble, -resigned manner; she had lost, little by little, the servile fear that -had showed itself in her every movement. She no longer trembled when -anyone addressed her, and there was occasionally a ring of -independence in her voice. - -If visitors were present, she no longer kept herself modestly in the -background, but drew forward her chair and took part in the -conversation. At table, she allowed her preferences and her dislikes -to appear. On two or three occasions she had ventured to differ from -her niece in opinion, and had even been so bold as to question the -propriety of some of her orders. - -Once Mme. Blanche, on going out, asked Aunt Medea to accompany her; -but the latter declared she had a cold, and remained at home. - -And, on the following Sunday, although Blanche did not wish to attend -vespers, Aunt Medea declared her intention of going; and as it rained, -she requested the coachman to harness the horses to the carriage, -which was done. - -All this was nothing, in appearance; in reality, it was monstrous, -amazing. It was quite plain that the humble relative was becoming -bold, even audacious, in her demands. - -As this departure, which her niece had just announced so gayly, had -never been discussed before her, she was greatly surprised. - -"What! you are going away," she repeated; "you are leaving -Courtornieu?" - -"And without regret." - -"To go where, pray?" - -"To Paris. We shall reside there; that is decided. That is the place -for my husband. His name, his fortune, his talents, the favor of the -King, assure him a high position there. He will repurchase the Hotel -de Sairmeuse, and furnish it magnificently. We shall have a princely -establishment." - -All the torments of envy were visible upon Aunt Medea's countenance. - -"'And what is to become of me?" she asked, in plaintive tones. - -"You, aunt! You will remain here; you will be mistress of the chateau. -A trustworthy person must remain to watch over my poor father. You -will be happy and contented here, I hope." - -But no; Aunt Medea did not seem satisfied. - -"I shall never have courage to stay all alone in this great chateau," -she whined. - -"You foolish woman! will you not have the servants, the gardeners, and -the concierge to protect you?" - -"That makes no difference. I am afraid of insane people. When the -marquis began to rave and howl this evening, I felt as if I should go -mad myself." - -Blanche shrugged her shoulders. - -"What /do/ you wish, then?" she asked, in a still more sarcastic -manner. - -"I thought--I wondered--if you would not take me with you." - -"To Paris! You are crazy, I do believe. What would you do there?" - -"Blanche, I entreat you, I beseech you, to do so!" - -"Impossible, aunt; impossible!" - -Aunt Medea seemed to be in despair. - -"And what if I should tell you that I cannot remain here--that I dare -not--that I should die!" - -A flush of impatience dyed the cheek of Mme. Blanche. - -"You weary me beyond endurance," she said, rudely. - -And with a gesture that increased the harshness of her words, she -added: - -"If Courtornieu displeases you so much, there is nothing to prevent -you from seeking a home more to your taste. You are free and of age." - -Aunt Medea turned very pale, and she bit her lips until the blood -came. - -"That is to say," she said, at last, "you permit me to take my choice -between dying of fear at Courtornieu and ending my days in a hospital. -Thanks, my niece, thanks. That is like you. I expected nothing less of -you. Thanks!" - -She raised her head, and a dangerous light gleamed in her eyes. There -was the hiss of a serpent in the voice in which she continued: - -"Very well! this decides me. I entreated you, and you brutally refused -to heed my prayer, now I command and I say: 'I will go!' Yes, I intend -to go with you to Paris--and I shall go. Ah! it surprises you to hear -poor, meek, much-abused Aunt Medea speak in this way. I have endured -in silence for a long time, but I have rebelled at last. My life in -this house has been a hell. It is true that you have given me shelter ---that you have fed and lodged me; but you have taken my entire life -in exchange. What servant ever endured what I have endured? Have you -ever treated one of your maids as you have treated me, your own flesh -and blood? And I have had no wages; on the contrary, I was expected to -be grateful since I lived by your tolerance. Ah! you have made me pay -dearly for the crime of being poor. How you have insulted me-- -humiliated me--trampled me under foot!" - -She paused. - -The bitter rancor which had been accumulating for years fairly choked -her; but after a moment she resumed, in a tone of intense irony: - -"You ask me what would I do in Paris? I, too, would enjoy myself. What -will you do, yourself? You will go to Court, to balls, and to the -play, will you not? Very well, I will accompany you. I will attend -these fetes. I will have handsome toilets, I--poor Aunt Medea--who -have never seen myself in anything but shabby black woollen dresses. -Have you ever thought of giving me the pleasure of possessing a -handsome dress? Yes, twice a year, perhaps, you have given me a black -silk, recommending me to take good care of it. But it was not for my -sake that you went to this expense. It was for your own sake; and in -order that your poor relation should do honor to your generosity. You -dressed me in it, as you sew gold lace upon the clothing of your -lackeys, through vanity. And I endured all this; I made myself -insignificant and humble; buffeted upon one cheek, I offered the -other. I must live--I must have food. And you, Blanche, how often, to -make me subservient to your will, have you said to me: 'You will do -thus-and-so, if you desire to remain at Courtornieu?' And I obeyed--I -was forced to obey, since I knew not where to go. Ah! you have abused -me in every way; but now my turn has come!" - -Blanche was so amazed that she could not articulate a syllable. At -last, in a scarcely audible voice, she faltered: - -"I do not understand you, aunt; I do not understand you." - -The poor dependent shrugged her shoulders, as her niece had done a few -moments before. - -"In that case," said she, slowly, "I may as well tell you that since -you have, against my will, made me your accomplice, we must share -everything in common. I share the danger; I will share the pleasure. -What if all should be discovered? Do you ever think of that? Yes; and -that is why you are seeking diversion. Very well! I also desire -diversion. I shall go to Paris with you." - -By a terrible effort Blanche had succeeded in regaining her self- -possession, in some measure at least. - -"And if I should say no?" she responded, coldly. - -"But you will not say no." - -"And why, if you please?" - -"Because----" - -"Will you go to the authorities and denounce me?" - -Aunt Medea shook her head. - -"I am not such a fool," she retorted. "I should only compromise -myself. No, I shall not do that; but I might, perhaps, tell your -husband what happened at the Borderie." - -Blanche shuddered. No threat was capable of moving her like that. - -"You shall accompany us, aunt," said she; "I promise it." - -Then she added, gently: - -"But it is unnecessary to threaten me. You have been cruel, aunt, and -at the same time, unjust. If you have been unhappy in our house, you -alone are to blame. Why have you said nothing? I attributed your -complaisance to your affection for me. How was I to know that a woman -as quiet and modest as yourself longed for fine apparel. Confess that -it was impossible. Had I known-- But rest easy, aunt; I will atone for -my neglect." - -And as Aunt Medea, having obtained all she desired, stammered an -excuse: - -"Nonsense!" Blanche exclaimed; "let us forget this foolish quarrel. -You forgive me, do you not?" - -And the two ladies embraced each other with the greatest effusion, -like two friends united after a misunderstanding. But Aunt Medea was -as far from being deceived by this mock reconciliation as the -clearsighted Blanche. - -"It will be best for me to keep on the /qui vive/," thought the humble -relative. "God only knows with what intense joy my dear niece would -send me to join Marie-Anne." - -Perhaps a similar thought flitted through the mind of Mme. Blanche. - -She felt as a convict might feel on seeing his most execrated enemy, -perhaps the man who had betrayed him, fastened to the other end of his -chain. - -"I am bound now and forever to this dangerous and perfidious -creature," she thought. "I am no longer my own mistress; I belong to -her. When she commands, I must obey. I must be the slave of her every -caprice--and she has forty years of humiliation and servitude to -avenge." - -The prospect of such a life made her tremble; and she racked her brain -to discover some way of freeing herself from her detested companion. - -Would it be possible to inspire Aunt Medea with a desire to live -independently in her own house, served by her own servants? - -Might she succeed in persuading this silly old woman, who still longed -for finery and ball-dresses, to marry? A handsome marriage-portion -will always attract a husband. - -But, in either case, Blanche would require money--a large sum of -money, for whose use she would be accountable to no one. - -This conviction made her resolve to take possession of about two -hundred and fifty thousand francs, in bank-notes and coin, belonging -to her father. - -This sum represented the savings of the Marquis de Courtornieu during -the past three years. No one knew he had laid it aside, except his -daughter; and now that he had lost his reason, Blanche, who knew where -the hoard was concealed, could take it for her own use without the -slightest danger. - -"With this," she thought, "I can at any moment enrich Aunt Medea -without having recourse to Martial." - -After this little scene there was a constant interchange of delicate -attentions and touching devotion between the two ladies. It was "my -dearest little aunt," and "my dearly beloved niece," from morning -until night; and the gossips of the neighborhood, who had often -commented upon the haughty disdain which Mme. Blanche displayed in her -treatment of her relative, would have found abundant food for comment -had they known that Aunt Medea was protected from the possibility of -cold by a mantle lined with costly fur, exactly like the marquise's -own, and that she made the journey, not in the large Berlin, with the -servants, but in the post-chaise with the Marquis and Marquise de -Sairmeuse. - -The change was so marked that even Martial remarked it, and as soon as -he found himself alone with his wife, he exclaimed, in a tone of good- -natured raillery: - -"What is the meaning of all this devotion? We shall finish by encasing -this precious aunt in cotton, shall we not?" - -Blanche trembled, and flushed a little. - -"I love good Aunt Medea so much!" said she. "I never can forget all -the affection and devotion she lavished upon me when I was so -unhappy." - -It was such a plausible explanation that Martial took no further -notice of the matter, for his mind just then was fully occupied. - -The agent, whom he had sent to Paris in advance, to purchase, if -possible, the Hotel de Sairmeuse, had written him to make all possible -haste, as there was some difficulty about concluding the bargain. - -"Plague take the fellow!" said the marquis, angrily, on receiving this -news. "He is quite stupid enough to let this opportunity, for which we -have been waiting ten years, slip through his fingers. I shall find no -pleasure in Paris if I cannot own our old residence." - -He was so impatient to reach Paris that, on the second day of their -journey, he declared if he were alone he would travel all night. - -"Do so now," said Blanche, graciously; "I do not feel fatigued in the -least, and a night of travel does not appall me." - -They did travel all night, and the next day, about nine o'clock, they -alighted at the Hotel Meurice. - -Martial scarcely took time to eat his breakfast. - -"I must go and see my agent at once," he said, as he hurried off. "I -will soon be back." - -He reappeared in about two hours, pleased and radiant. - -"My agent was a simpleton," he exclaimed. "He was afraid to write me -that a man, upon whom the conclusion of the sale depends, demands a -bonus of fifty thousand francs. He shall have it in welcome." - -Then, in a tone of gallantry, which he always used in addressing his -wife, he said: - -"It only remains for me to sign the paper; but I will not do so unless -the house suits you. If you are not too tired, I would like you to -visit it at once. Time presses, and we have many competitors." - -This visit was, of course, one of pure form; but Mme. Blanche would -have been hard to please if she had not been satisfied with this -mansion, one of the most magnificent in Paris, with an entrance on the -Rue de Crenelle, and large gardens shaded with superb trees, and -extending to the Rue de Varennes. - -Unfortunately, this superb dwelling had not been occupied for several -years, and required many repairs. - -"It will take at least six months to restore it," said Martial; -"perhaps more. It is true that they might in three months, perhaps, -render a portion of it very comfortable." - -"It would be living in one's own house, at least," approved Blanche, -divining her husband's wishes. - -"Ah! then you agree with me! In that case, you may rest assured that I -will expedite matters as much as possible." - -In spite, or rather by reason of his immense fortune, the Marquis de -Sairmeuse knew that a person is never so well, nor so quickly served, -as when he serves himself, so he resolved to take the matter into his -own hands. He conferred with architects, interviewed contractors, and -hurried on the workmen. - -As soon as he was up in the morning he started out without waiting for -breakfast, and seldom returned until dinner. - -Although Blanche was compelled to pass most of her time within doors, -on account of the bad weather, she was not inclined to complain. Her -journey, the unaccustomed sights and sounds of Paris, the novelty of -life in a hotel, all combined to distract her thoughts from herself. -She forgot her fears; a sort of haze enveloped the terrible scene at -the Borderie; the clamors of conscience sank into faint whispers. - -The past seemed fading away, and she was beginning to entertain hopes -of a new and better life, when one day a servant entered, and said: - -"There is a man below who wishes to speak with Madame." - - - -CHAPTER LII - -Half reclining upon a sofa, Mme. Blanche was listening to a new book -which Aunt Medea was reading aloud, and she did not even raise her -head as the servant delivered his message. - -"A man?" she asked, carelessly; "what man?" - -She was expecting no one; it must be one of the laborers employed by -Martial. - -"I cannot inform Madame," replied the servant. "He is quite a young -man; is dressed like a peasant, and is perhaps, seeking a place." - -"It is probably the marquis whom he desires to see." - -"Madame will excuse me, but he said particularly that he desired to -speak to her." - -"Ask his name and his business, then. Go on, aunt," she added; "we -have been interrupted in the most interesting portion." - -But Aunt Medea had not time to finish the page when the servant -reappeared. - -"The man says Madame will understand his business when she hears his -name." - -"And his name?" - -"Chupin." - -It was as if a bomb-shell had exploded in the room. - -Aunt Medea, with a shriek, dropped her book, and sank back, half -fainting, in her chair. - -Blanche sprang up with a face as colorless as her white cashmere -/peignoir/, her eyes troubled, her lips trembling. - -"Chupin!" she repeated, as if she hoped the servant would tell her she -had not understood him correctly; "Chupin!" - -Then angrily: - -"Tell this man that I will not see him, I will not see him, do you -hear?" - -But before the servant had time to bow respectfully and retire, the -young marquise changed her mind. - -"One moment," said she; "on reflection I think I will see him. Bring -him up." - -The servant withdrew, and the two ladies looked at each other in -silent consternation. - -"It must be one of Chupin's sons," faltered Blanche, at last. - -"Undoubtedly; but what does he desire?" - -"Money, probably." Aunt Medea lifted her eyes to heaven. - -"God grant that he knows nothing of your meetings with his father! -Blessed Jesus! what if he should know." - -"You are not going to despair in advance! We shall know all in a few -moments. Pray be calm. Turn your back to us; look out into the street; -do not let him see your face. But why is he so long in coming?" - -Blanche was not deceived. It was Chupin's eldest son; the one to whom -the dying poacher had confided his secret. - -Since his arrival in Paris he had been running the streets from -morning until evening, inquiring everywhere and of everybody the -address of the Marquis de Sairmeuse. At last he discovered it; and he -lost no time in presenting himself at the Hotel Meurice. - -He was now awaiting the result of his application at the entrance of -the hotel, where he stood whistling, with his hands in his pockets, -when the servant returned, saying: - -"She consents to see you; follow me." - -Chupin obeyed; but the servant, greatly astonished, and on fire with -curiosity, loitered by the way in the hope of obtaining some -explanation from this country youth. - -"I do not say it to flatter you, my boy," he remarked, "but your name -produced a great effect upon madame." - -The prudent peasant carefully concealed the joy he felt on receiving -this information. - -"How does it happen that she knows you?" pursued the servant. "Are you -both from the same place?" - -"I am her foster-brother." - -The servant did not believe a word of this response; but they had -reached the apartment of the marquise, he opened the door and ushered -Chupin into the room. - -The peasant had prepared a little story in advance, but he was so -dazzled by the magnificence around him that he stood motionless with -staring eyes and gaping mouth. His wonder was increased by a large -mirror opposite the door, in which he could survey himself from head -to foot, and by the beautiful flowers on the carpet, which he feared -to crush beneath his heavy shoes. - -After a moment, Mme. Blanche decided to break the silence. - -"What do you wish?" she demanded. - -With many circumlocutions Chupin explained that he had been obliged to -leave Sairmeuse on account of the numerous enemies he had there, that -he had been unable to find his father's hidden treasure, and that he -was consequently without resources. - -"Enough!" interrupted Mme. Blanche. Then in a manner not in the least -friendly, she continued: "I do not understand why you should apply to -me. You and all the rest of your family have anything but an enviable -reputation in Sairmeuse; still, as you are from that part of the -country, I am willing to aid you a little on condition that you do not -apply to me again." - -Chupin listened to this homily with a half-cringing, half-impudent -air; when it was finished he lifted his head, and said, proudly: - -"I do not ask for alms." - -"What do you ask then?" - -"My dues." - -The heart of Mme. Blanche sank, and yet she had courage to cast a -glance of disdain upon the speaker, and said: - -"Ah! do I owe you anything?" - -"You owe me nothing personally, Madame; but you owe a heavy debt to my -deceased father. In whose service did he perish? Poor old man! he -loved you devotedly. His last words were of you. 'A terrible thing has -just happened at the Borderie, my boy,' said he. 'The young marquise -hated Marie-Anne, and she has poisoned her. Had it not been for me she -would have been lost. I am about to die; let the whole blame rest upon -me; it will not hurt me, and it will save the young lady. And -afterward she will reward you; and as long as you keep the secret you -will want for nothing.'" - -Great as was his impudence, he paused, amazed by the perfectly -composed face of the listener. - -In the presence of such wonderful dissimulation he almost doubted the -truth of his father's story. - -The courage and heroism displayed by the marquise were really -wonderful. She felt if she yielded once, she would forever be at the -mercy of this wretch, as she was already at the mercy of Aunt Medea. - -"In other words," said she, calmly, "you accuse me of the murder of -Mademoiselle Lacheneur; and you threaten to denounce me if I do not -yield to your demands." - -Chupin nodded his head in acquiescence. - -"Very well!" said the marquise; "since this is the case--go!" - -It seemed, indeed, as if she would, by her audacity, win this -dangerous game upon which her future peace depended. Chupin, greatly -abashed, was standing there undecided what course to pursue when Aunt -Medea, who was listening by the window, turned in affright, crying: - -"Blanche! your husband--Martial! He is coming!" - -The game was lost. Blanche saw her husband entering, finding Chupin, -conversing with him, and discovering all! - -Her brain whirled; she yielded. - -She hastily thrust her purse in Chupin's hand and dragged him through -an inner door and to the servants' staircase. - -"Take this," she said, in a hoarse whisper. "I will see you again. And -not a word--not a word to my husband, remember!" - -She had been wise to yield in time. When she re-entered the salon, she -found Martial there. - -His head was bowed upon his breast; he held an open letter in his -hand. - -He looked up when his wife entered the room, and she saw a tear in his -eye. - -"What has happened?" she faltered. - -Martial did not remark her emotion. - -"My father is dead, Blanche," he replied. - -"The Duc de Sairmeuse! My God! how did it happen?" - -"He was thrown from his horse, in the forest, near the Sanguille -rocks." - -"Ah! it was there where my poor father was nearly murdered." - -"Yes, it is the very place." - -There was a moment's silence. - -Martial's affection for his father had not been very deep, and he was -well aware that his father had but little love for him. He was -astonished at the bitter grief he felt on hearing of his death. - -"From this letter which was forwarded by a messenger from Sairmeuse," -he continued, "I judge that everybody believes it to have been an -accident; but I--I----" - -"Well?" - -"I believe he was murdered." - -An exclamation of horror escaped Aunt Medea, and Blanche turned pale. - -"Murdered!" she whispered. - -"Yes, Blanche; and I could name the murderer. Oh! I am not deceived. -The murderer of my father is the same man who attempted to assassinate -the Marquis de Courtornieu----" - -"Jean Lacheneur!" - -Martial gravely bowed his head. It was his only reply. - -"And you will not denounce him? You will not demand justice?" - -Martial's face grew more and more gloomy. - -"What good would it do?" he replied. "I have no material proofs to -give, and justice demands incontestable evidence." - -Then, as if communing with his own thoughts, rather than addressing -his wife, he said, despondently: - -"The Duc de Sairmeuse and the Marquis de Courtornieu have reaped what -they have sown. The blood of murdered innocence always calls for -vengeance. Sooner or later, the guilty must expiate their crimes." - -Blanche shuddered. Each word found an echo in her own soul. Had he -intended his words for her, he would not have expressed himself -differently. - -"Martial," said she, trying to arouse him from his gloomy revery, -"Martial." - -He did not seem to hear her, and, in the same tone, he continued: - -"These Lacheneurs were happy and honored before our arrival at -Sairmeuse. Their conduct was above all praise; their probity amounted -to heroism. We might have made them our faithful and devoted friends. -It was our duty, as well as in our interests, to have done so. We did -not understand this; we humiliated, ruined, exasperated them. It was a -fault for which we must atone. Who knows but, in Jean Lacheneur's -place, I should have done what he has done?" - -He was silent for a moment; then, with one of those sudden -inspirations that sometimes enable one almost to read the future, he -resumed: - -"I know Jean Lacheneur. I alone can fathom his hatred, and I know that -he lives only in the hope of vengeance. It is true that we are very -high and he is very low, but that matters little. We have everything -to fear. Our millions form a rampart around us, but he will know how -to open a breach. And no precautions will save us. At the very moment -when we feel ourselves secure, he will be ready to strike. What he -will attempt, I know not; but his will be a terrible revenge. Remember -my words, Blanche, if ruin ever threatens our house, it will be Jean -Lacheneur's work." - -Aunt Medea and her niece were too horror-stricken to articulate a -word, and for five minutes no sound broke the stillness save Martial's -monotonous tread, as he paced up and down the room. - -At last he paused before his wife. - -"I have just ordered post-horses. You will excuse me for leaving you -here alone. I must go to Sairmeuse at once. I shall not be absent more -than a week." - -He departed from Paris a few hours later, and Blanche was left a prey -to the most intolerable anxiety. She suffered more now than during the -days that immediately followed her crime. It was not against phantoms -she was obliged to protect herself now; Chupin existed, and his voice, -even if it were not as terrible as the voice of conscience, might make -itself heard at any moment. - -If she had known where to find him, she would have gone to him, and -endeavored, by the payment of a large sum of money, to persuade him to -leave France. - -But Chupin had left the hotel without giving her his address. - -The gloomy apprehension expressed by Martial increased the fears of -the young marquise. The mere sound of the name Lacheneur made her -shrink with terror. She could not rid herself of the idea that Jean -Lacheneur suspected her guilt, and that he was watching her. - -Her wish to find Marie-Anne's infant was stronger than ever. - -It seemed to her that the child might be a protection to her some day. -But where could she find an agent in whom she could confide? - -At last she remembered that she had heard her father speak of a -detective by the name of Chelteux, an exceedingly shrewd fellow, -capable of anything, even honesty if he were well paid. - -The man was really a miserable wretch, one of Fouche's vilest -instruments, who had served and betrayed all parties, and who, at -last, had been convicted of perjury, but had somehow managed to escape -punishment. - -After his dismissal from the police-force, Chelteux founded a bureau -of private information. - -After several inquiries, Mme. Blanche discovered that he lived in the -Place Dauphine; and she determined to take advantage of her husband's -absence to pay the detective a visit. - -One morning she donned her simplest dress, and, accompanied by Aunt -Medea, repaired to the house of Chelteux. - -He was then, about thirty-four years of age, a man of medium height, -of inoffensive mien, and who affected an unvarying good-humor. - -He invited his clients into a nicely furnished drawing-room, and Mme. -Blanche at once began telling him that she was married, and living in -the Rue Saint-Denis, that one of her sisters, who had lately died, had -been guilty of an indiscretion, and that she was ready to make any -sacrifice to find this sister's child, etc., etc. A long story, which -she had prepared in advance, and which sounded very plausible. - -Chelteux did not believe a word of it, however; for, as soon as it was -ended, he tapped her familiarly on the shoulder, and said: - -"In short, my dear, we have had our little escapades before our -marriage." - -She shrank back as if from some venomous reptile. - -To be treated thus! she--a Courtornieu--Duchesse de Sairmeuse! - -"I think you are laboring under a wrong impression," she said, -haughtily. - -He made haste to apologize; but while listening to further details -given him by the young lady, he thought: - -"What an eye! what a voice!--they are not suited to a denizen of the -Saint-Denis!" - -His suspicions were confirmed by the reward of twenty thousand francs, -which Mme. Blanche imprudently promised him in case of success, and by -the five hundred francs which she paid in advance. - -"And where shall I have the honor of addressing my communications to -you, Madame?" he inquired. - -"Nowhere," replied the young lady. "I shall be passing here from time -to time, and I will call." - -When they left the house, Chelteux followed them. - -"For once," he thought, "I believe that fortune smiles upon me." - -To discover the name and rank of his new clients was but child's play -to Fouche's former pupil. - -His task was all the easier since they had no suspicion whatever of -his designs. Mme. Blanche, who had heard his powers of discernment so -highly praised, was confident of success. - -All the way back to the hotel she was congratulating herself upon the -step she had taken. - -"In less than a month," she said to Aunt Medea, "we shall have the -child; and it will be a protection to us." - -But the following week she realized the extent of her imprudence. On -visiting Chelteux again, she was received with such marks of respect -that she saw at once she was known. - -She made an attempt to deceive him, but the detective checked her. - -"First of all," he said, with a good-humored smile, "I ascertain the -identity of the persons who honor me with their confidence. It is a -proof of my ability, which I give, gratis. But Madame need have no -fears. I am discreet by nature and by profession. Many ladies of the -highest ranks are in the position of Madame la Duchesse!" - -So Chelteux still believed that the Duchesse de Sairmeuse was -searching for her own child. - -She did not try to convince him to the contrary. It was better that he -should believe this than suspect the truth. - -The condition of Mme. Blanche was now truly pitiable. She found -herself entangled in a net, and each movement far from freeing her, -tightened the meshes around her. - -Three persons knew the secret that threatened her life and honor. -Under these circumstances, how could she hope to keep that secret -inviolate? She was, moreover, at the mercy of three unscrupulous -masters; and before a word, or a gesture, or a look from them, her -haughty spirit was compelled to bow in meek subservience. - -And her time was no longer at her own disposal. Martial had returned; -and they had taken up their abode at the Hotel de Sairmeuse. - -The young duchess was now compelled to live under the scrutiny of -fifty servants--of fifty enemies, more or less, interested in watching -her, in criticising her every act, and in discovering her inmost -thoughts. - -Aunt Medea, it is true, was of great assistance to her. Blanche -purchased a dress for her, whenever she purchased one for herself, -took her about with her on all occasions, and the humble relative -expressed her satisfaction in the most enthusiastic terms, and -declared her willingness to do anything for her benefactress. - -Nor did Chelteux give Mme. Blanche much more annoyance. Every three -months he presented a memorandum of the expenses of investigations, -which usually amounted to about ten thousand francs; and so long as -she paid him it was plain that he would be silent. - -He had given her to understand, however, that he should expect an -annuity of twenty-four thousand francs; and once, when Mme. Blanche -remarked that he must abandon the search, if nothing had been -discovered at the end of two years: - -"Never," he replied: "I shall continue the search as long as I live." -But Chupin, unfortunately, remained; and he was a constant terror. - -She had been compelled to give him twenty thousand francs, to begin -with. - -He declared that his younger brother had come to Paris in pursuit of -him, accusing him of having stolen their father's hoard, and demanding -his share with his dagger in his hand. - -There had been a battle, and it was with a head bound up in a blood- -stained linen, that Chupin made his appearance before Mme. Blanche. - -"Give me the sum that the old man buried, and I will allow my brother -to think that I had stolen it. It is not very pleasant to be regarded -as a thief, when one is an honest man, but I will bear it for your -sake. If you refuse, I shall be compelled to tell him where I have -obtained my money and how." - -If he possessed all the vices, depravity, and coldblooded perversity -of his father, this wretch had inherited neither his intelligence nor -his /finesse/. - -Instead of taking the precautions which his interest required, he -seemed to find a brutal pleasure in compromising the duchess. - -He was a constant visitor at the Hotel de Sairmeuse. He came and went -at all hours, morning, noon, and night, without troubling himself in -the least about Martial. - -And the servants were amazed to see their haughty mistress -unhesitatingly leave everything at the call of this suspicious-looking -character, who smelled /so/ strongly of tobacco and vile brandy. - -One evening, while a grand entertainment was in progress at the Hotel -de Sairmeuse, he made his appearance, half drunk, and imperiously -ordered the servants to go and tell Mme. Blanche that he was there, -and that he was waiting for her. - -She hastened to him in her magnificent evening-dress, her face white -with rage and shame beneath her tiara of diamonds. And when, in her -exasperation, she refused to give the wretch what he demanded: - -"That is to say, I am to starve while you are revelling here!" he -exclaimed. "I am not such a fool. Give me money, and instantly, or I -will tell all I know here and now!" - -What could she do? She was obliged to yield, as she had always done -before. - -And yet he grew more and more insatiable every day. Money remained in -his pockets no longer than water remains in a sieve. But he did not -think of elevating his vices to the proportions of the fortune which -he squandered. He did not even provide himself with decent clothing; -from his appearance one would have supposed him a beggar, and his -companions were the vilest and most degraded of beings. - -One night he was arrested in a low den, and the police, surprised at -seeing so much gold in the possession of such a beggarly looking -wretch, accused him of being a thief. He mentioned the name of the -Duchesse de Sairmeuse. - -An inspector of the police presented himself at the Hotel de Sairmeuse -the following morning. Martial, fortunately, was in Vienna at the -time. - -And Mme. Blanche was forced to undergo the terrible humiliation of -confessing that she had given a large sum of money to this man, whose -family she had known, and who, she added, had once rendered her an -important service. - -Sometimes her tormentor changed his tactics. - -For example, he declared that he disliked to come to the Hotel de -Sairmeuse, that the servants treated him as if he were a mendicant, -that after this he would write. - -And in a day or two there would come a letter bidding her bring such a -sum, to such a place, at such an hour. - -And the proud duchess was always punctual at the rendezvous. - -There was constantly some new invention, as if he found an intense -delight in proving his power and in abusing it. - -He had met, Heaven knows where! a certain Aspasie Clapard, to whom he -took a violent fancy, and although she was much older than himself, he -wished to marry her. Mme. Blanche paid for the wedding-feast. - -Again he announced his desire of establishing himself in business, -having resolved, he said, to live by his own exertions. He purchased -the stock of a wine merchant, which the duchess paid for, and which he -drank in no time. - -His wife gave birth to a child, and Mme. de Sairmeuse must pay for the -baptism as she had paid for the wedding, only too happy that Chupin -did not require her to stand as godmother to little Polyte. He had -entertained this idea at first. - -On two occasions Mme. Blanche accompanied her husband to Vienna and to -London, whither he went charged with important diplomatic missions. -She remained three years in foreign lands. - -Each week during all that time she received one letter, at least, from -Chupin. - -Ah! many a time she envied the lot of her victim! What was Marie- -Anne's death compared with the life she led? - -Her sufferings were measured by years, Marie-Anne's by minutes; and -she said to herself, again and again, that the torture of poison could -not be as intolerable as her agony. - - - -CHAPTER LIII - -How was it that Martial had failed to discover or to suspect this -state of affairs? - -A moment's reflection will explain this fact which is so extraordinary -in appearance, so natural in reality. - -The head of a family, whether he dwells in an attic or in a palace, is -always the last to know what is going on in his home. What everybody -else knows he does not even suspect. The master often sleeps while his -house is on fire. Some terrible catastrophe--an explosion--is -necessary to arouse him from his fancied security. - -The life that Martial led was likely to prevent him from arriving at -the truth. He was a stranger to his wife. His manner toward her was -perfect, full of deference and chivalrous courtesy; but they had -nothing in common except a name and certain interests. - -Each lived their own life. They met only at dinner, or at the -entertainments which they gave and which were considered the most -brilliant in Paris society. - -The duchess had her own apartments, her servants, her carriages, her -horses, her own table. - -At twenty-five, Martial, the last descendant of the great house of -Sairmeuse--a man upon whom destiny had apparently lavished every -blessing--the possessor of youth, unbounded wealth, and a brilliant -intellect, succumbed beneath the burden of an incurable despondency -and /ennui/. - -The death of Marie-Anne had destroyed all his hopes of happiness; and -realizing the emptiness of his life, he did his best to fill the void -with bustle and excitement. He threw himself headlong into politics, -striving to find in power and in satisfied ambition some relief from -his despondency. - -It is only just to say that Mme. Blanche had remained superior to -circumstances; and that she had played the role of a happy, contented -woman with consummate skill. - -Her frightful sufferings and anxiety never marred the haughty serenity -of her face. She soon won a place as one of the queens of Parisian -society; and plunged into dissipation with a sort of frenzy. Was she -endeavoring to divert her mind? Did she hope to overpower thought by -excessive fatigue? - -To Aunt Medea alone did Blanche reveal her secret heart. - -"I am like a culprit who has been bound to the scaffold, and then -abandoned by the executioner, who says, as he departs: 'Live until the -axe falls of its own accord.'" - -And the axe might fall at any moment. A word, a trifle, an unlucky -chance--she dared not say "a decree of Providence," and Martial would -know all. - -Such, in all its unspeakable horror, was the position of the beautiful -and envied Duchesse de Sairmeuse. "She must be perfectly happy," said -the world; but she felt herself sliding down the precipice to the -awful depths below. - -Like a shipwrecked mariner clinging to a floating spar, she scanned -the horizon with a despairing eye, and saw only angry and threatening -clouds. - -Time, perhaps, might bring her some relief. - -Once it happened that six weeks went by, and she heard nothing from -Chupin. A month and a half! What had become of him? To Mme. Blanche -this silence was as ominous as the calm that precedes the storm. - -A line in a newspaper solved the mystery. - -Chupin was in prison. - -The wretch, after drinking more heavily than usual one evening, had -quarrelled with his brother, and had killed him by a blow upon the -head with a piece of iron. - -The blood of the betrayed Lacheneur was visited upon the heads of his -murderer's children. - -Tried by the Court of Assizes, Chupin was condemned to twenty years of -hard labor, and sent to Brest. - -But this sentence afforded the duchess no relief. The culprit had -written to her from his Paris prison; he wrote to her from Brest. - -But he did not send his letters through the post. He confided them to -comrades, whose terms of imprisonment had expired, and who came to the -Hotel de Sairmeuse demanding an interview with the duchess. - -And she received them. They told all the miseries they had endured -"out there;" and usually ended by requesting some slight assistance. - -One morning, a man whose desperate appearance and manner frightened -her, brought the duchess this laconic epistle: - - - "I am tired of starving here; I wish to make my escape. Come to - Brest; you can visit the prison, and we will decide upon some - plan. If you refuse to do this, I shall apply to the duke, who - will obtain my pardon in exchange of what I will tell him." - - -Mme. Blanche was dumb with horror. It was impossible, she thought, to -sink lower than this. - -"Well!" demanded the man, harshly. "What reply shall I make to my -comrade?" - -"I will go--tell him that I will go!" she said, driven to desperation. - -She made the journey, visited the prison, but did not find Chupin. - -The previous week there had been a revolt in the prison, the troops -had fired upon the prisoners, and Chupin had been killed instantly. - -Still the duchess dared not rejoice. - -She feared that her tormentor had told his wife the secret of his -power. - -"I shall soon know," she thought. - -The widow promptly made her appearance; but her manner was humble and -supplicating. - -She had often heard her dear, dead husband say that madame was his -benefactress, and now she came to beg a little aid to enable her to -open a small drinking saloon. - -Her son Polyte--ah! such a good son! just eighteen years old, and such -a help to his poor mother--had discovered a little house in a good -situation for the business, and if they only had three or four hundred -francs---- - -Mme. Blanche gave her five hundred francs. - -"Either her humility is a mask," she thought, "or her husband has told -her nothing." - -Five days later Polyte Chupin presented himself. - -They needed three hundred francs more before they could commence -business, and he came on behalf of his mother to entreat the kind lady -to advance them. - -Determined to discover exactly where she stood, the duchess shortly -refused, and the young man departed without a word. - -Evidently the mother and son were ignorant of the facts. Chupin's -secret had died with him. - -This happened early in January. Toward the last of February, Aunt -Medea contracted inflammation of the lungs on leaving a fancy ball, -which she attended in an absurd costume, in spite of all the attempts -which her niece made to dissuade her. - -Her passion for dress killed her. Her illness lasted only three days; -but her sufferings, physical and mental, were terrible. - -Constrained by her fear of death to examine her own conscience, she -saw plainly that by profiting by the crime of her niece she had been -as culpable as if she had aided her in committing it. She had been -very devout in former years, and now her superstitious fears were -reawakened and intensified. Her faith returned, accompanied by a -/cortege/ of terrors. - -"I am lost!" she cried; "I am lost!" - -She tossed to and fro upon her bed; she writhed and shrieked as if she -already saw hell opening to engulf her. - -She called upon the Holy Virgin and upon all the saints to protect -her. She entreated God to grant her time for repentance and for -expiation. She begged to see a priest, swearing she would make a full -confession. - -Paler than the dying woman, but implacable, Blanche watched over her, -aided by that one of her personal attendants in whom she had most -confidence. - -"If this lasts long, I shall be ruined," she thought. "I shall be -obliged to call for assistance, and she will betray me." - -It did not last long. - -The patient's delirium was succeeded by such utter prostration that it -seemed each moment would be her last. - -But toward midnight she appeared to revive a little, and in a voice of -intense feeling, she said: - -"You have had no pity, Blanche. You have deprived me of all hope in -the life to come. God will punish you. You, too, shall die like a dog; -alone, without a word of Christian counsel or encouragement. I curse -you!" - -And she died just as the clock was striking two. - -The time when Blanche would have given almost anything to know that -Aunt Medea was beneath the sod, had long since passed. - -Now, the death of the poor old woman affected her deeply. - -She had lost an accomplice who had often consoled her, and she had -gained nothing, since one of her maids was now acquainted with the -secret of the crime at the Borderie. - -Everyone who was intimately acquainted with the Duchesse de Sairmeuse, -noticed her dejection, and was astonished by it. - -"Is it not strange," remarked her friends, "that the duchess--such a -very superior woman--should grieve so much for that absurd relative of -hers?" - -But the dejection of Mme. Blanche was due in great measure to the -sinister prophecies of the accomplice to whom she had denied the last -consolations of religion. - -And as her mind reviewed the past she shuddered, as the peasants at -Sairmeuse had done, when she thought of the fatality which had pursued -the shedders of innocent blood. - -What misfortune had attended them all--from the sons of Chupin, the -miserable traitor, up to her father, the Marquis de Courtornieu, whose -mind had not been illumined by the least gleam of reason for ten long -years before his death. - -"My turn will come!" she thought. - -The Baron and the Baroness d'Escorval, and old Corporal Bavois had -departed this life within a month of each other, the previous year, -mourned by all. - -So that of all the people of diverse condition who had been connected -with the troubles at Montaignac, Blanche knew only four who were still -alive. - -Maurice d'Escorval, who had entered the magistracy, and was now a -judge in the tribunal of the Seine; Abbe Midon, who had come to Paris -with Maurice, and Martial and herself. - -There was another person, the bare recollection of whom made her -tremble, and whose name she dared not utter. - -Jean Lacheneur, Marie-Anne's brother. - -An inward voice, more powerful than reason, told her that this -implacable enemy was still alive, watching for his hour of vengeance. - -More troubled by her presentiments now, than she had been by Chupin's -persecutions in days gone by, Mme. de Sairmeuse decided to apply to -Chelteux in order to ascertain, if possible, what she had to expect. - -Fouche's former agent had not wavered in his devotion to the duchess. -Every three months he presented his bill, which was paid without -discussion; and to ease his conscience, he sent one of his men to -prowl around Sairmeuse for a while, at least once a year. - -Animated by the hope of a magnificent reward, the spy promised his -client, and--what was more to the purpose--promised himself, that he -would discover this dreaded enemy. - -He started in quest of him, and had already begun to collect proofs of -Jean's existence, when his investigations were abruptly terminated. - -One morning the body of a man literally hacked in pieces was found in -an old well. It was the body of Chelteux. - -"A fitting close to the career of such a wretch," said the /Journal -des Debats/, in noting the event. - -When she read this news, Mme. Blanche felt as a culprit would feel on -reading his death-warrant. - -"The end is near," she murmured. "Lacheneur is coming!" - -The duchess was not mistaken. - -Jean had told the truth when he declared that he was not disposing of -his sister's estate for his own benefit. In his opinion, Marie-Anne's -fortune must be consecrated to one sacred purpose; he would not divert -the slightest portion of it to his individual needs. - -He was absolutely penniless when the manager of a travelling -theatrical company engaged him for a consideration of forty-five -francs per month. - -From that day he lived the precarious life of a strolling player. He -was poorly paid, and often reduced to abject poverty by lack of -engagements, or by the impecuniosity of managers. - -His hatred had lost none of its virulence; but to wreak the desired -vengeance upon his enemy, he must have time and money at his disposal. - -But how could he accumulate money when he was often too poor to -appease his hunger? - -Still he did not renounce his hopes. His was a rancor which was only -intensified by years. He was biding his time while he watched from the -depths of his misery the brilliant fortunes of the house of Sairmeuse. - -He had waited sixteen years, when one of his friends procured him an -engagement in Russia. - -The engagement was nothing; but the poor comedian was afterward -fortunate enough to obtain an interest in a theatrical enterprise, -from which he realized a fortune of one hundred thousand francs in -less than six years. - -"Now," said he, "I can give up this life. I am rich enough, now, to -begin the warfare." - -And six weeks later he arrived in his native village. - -Before carrying any of his atrocious designs into execution, he went -to Sairmeuse to visit Marie-Anne's grave, in order to obtain there an -increase of animosity, as well as the relentless /sang-froid/ of a -stern avenger of crime. - -That was his only motive in going, but, on the very evening of his -arrival, he learned through a garrulous old peasant woman that ever -since his departure--that is to say, for a period of twenty years--two -parties had been making persistent inquiries for a child which had -been placed somewhere in the neighborhood. - -Jean knew that it was Marie-Anne's child they were seeking. Why they -had not succeeded in finding it, he knew equally well. - -But why were there two persons seeking the child? One was Maurice -d'Escorval, of course, but who was the other? - -Instead of remaining at Sairmeuse a week, Jean Lacheneur tarried there -a month; and by the expiration of that month he had traced these -inquiries concerning the child to the agent of Chelteux. Through him, -he reached Fouche's former spy; and, finally, succeeded in discovering -that the search had been instituted by no less a person than the -Duchesse de Sairmeuse. - -This discovery bewildered him. How could Mme. Blanche have known that -Marie-Anne had given birth to a child; and knowing it, what possible -interest could she have had in finding it? - -These two questions tormented Jean's mind continually; but he could -discover no satisfactory answer. - -"Chupin's son could tell me, perhaps," he thought. "I must pretend to -be reconciled to the sons of the wretch who betrayed my father." - -But the traitor's children had been dead for several years, and after -a long search, Jean found only the Widow Chupin and her son, Polyte. - -They were keeping a drinking-saloon not far from the Chateau-des- -Rentiers; and their establishment, known as the Poivriere, bore -anything but an enviable reputation. - -Lacheneur questioned the widow and her son in vain; they could give -him no information whatever on the subject. He told them his name, but -even this did not awaken the slightest recollection in their minds. - -Jean was about to take his departure when Mother Chupin, probably in -the hope of extracting a few pennies, began to deplore her present -misery, which was, she declared, all the harder to bear since she had -wanted for nothing during the life of her poor husband, who had always -obtained as much money as he wanted from a lady of high degree--the -Duchesse de Sairmeuse, in short. - -Lacheneur uttered such a terrible oath that the old woman and her son -started back in affright. - -He saw at once the close connection between the researches of Mme. -Blanche and her generosity to Chupin. - -"It was she who poisoned Marie-Anne," he said to himself. "It was -through my sister that she became aware of the existence of the child. -She loaded Chupin with favors because he knew the crime she had -committed--that crime in which his father had been only an -accomplice." - -He remembered Martial's oath at the bedside of the murdered girl, and -his heart overflowed with savage exultation. He saw his two enemies, -the last of the Sairmeuse and the last of the Courtornieu take in -their own hands his work of vengeance. - -But this was mere conjecture; he desired to be assured of the -correctness of his suppositions. - -He drew from his pocket a handful of gold, and, throwing it upon the -table, he said: - -"I am very rich; if you will obey me and keep my secret, your fortune -is made." - -A shrill cry of delight from mother and son outweighed any -protestations of obedience. - -The Widow Chupin knew how to write, and Lacheneur dictated this -letter: - - - "Madame la Duchesse--I shall expect you at my establishment - to-morrow between twelve and four o'clock. It is on business - connected with the Borderie. If at five o'clock I have not seen - you, I shall carry to the post a letter for the duke." - - -"And if she comes what am I to say to her?" asked the astonished -widow. - -"Nothing; you will merely ask her for money." - -"If she comes, it is as I have guessed," he reflected. - -She came. - -Hidden in the loft of the Poivriere, Jean, through an opening in the -floor, saw the duchess give a banknote to Mother Chupin. - -"Now, she is in my power!" he thought exultantly. "Through what -sloughs of degradation will I drag her before I deliver her up to her -husband's vengeance!" - - - -CHAPTER LIV - -A few lines of the article consecrated to Martial de Sairmeuse in the -"General Biography of the Men of the Century," give the history of his -life after his marriage. - - - "Martial de Sairmeuse," it says there, "brought to the service of - his party a brilliant intellect and admirable endowments. Called - to the front at the moment when political strife was raging with - the utmost violence, he had courage to assume the sole - responsibility of the most extreme measures. - - "Compelled by almost universal opprobrium to retire from office, he - left behind him animosities which will be extinguished only with - life." - - -But what this article does not state is this: if Martial was wrong-- -and that depends entirely upon the point of view from which his -conduct is regarded--he was doubly wrong, since he was not possessed -of those ardent convictions verging upon fanaticism which make men -fools, heroes, and martyrs. - -He was not even ambitious. - -Those associated with him, witnessing his passionate struggle and his -unceasing activity, thought him actuated by an insatiable thirst for -power. - -He cared little or nothing for it. He considered its burdens heavy; -its compensations small. His pride was too lofty to feel any -satisfaction in the applause that delights the vain, and flattery -disgusted him. Often, in his princely drawing-rooms, during some -brilliant fete, his acquaintances noticed a shade of gloom steal over -his features, and seeing him thus thoughtful and preoccupied, they -respectfully refrained from disturbing him. - -"His mind is occupied with momentous questions," they thought. "Who -can tell what important decisions may result from this revery?" - -They were mistaken. - -At the very moment when his brilliant success made his rivals pale -with envy--when it would seem that he had nothing left to wish for in -this world, Martial was saying to himself: - -"What an empty life! What weariness and vexation of spirit! To live -for others--what a mockery!" - -He looked at his wife, radiant in her beauty, worshipped like a queen, -and he sighed. - -He thought of her who was dead--Marie-Anne--the only woman whom he had -ever loved. - -She was never absent from his mind. After all these years he saw her -yet, cold, rigid, lifeless, in that luxurious room at the Borderie; -and time, far from effacing the image of the fair girl who had won his -youthful heart, made it still more radiant and endowed his lost idol -with almost superhuman grace of person and of character. - -If fate had but given him Marie-Anne for his wife! He said this to -himself again and again, picturing the exquisite happiness which a -life with her would have afforded him. - -They would have remained at Sairmeuse. They would have had lovely -children playing around them! He would not be condemned to this -continual warfare--to this hollow, unsatisfying, restless life. - -The truly happy are not those who parade their satisfaction and good -fortune before the eyes of the multitude. The truly happy hide -themselves from the curious gaze, and they are right; happiness is -almost a crime. - -So thought Martial; and he, the great statesman, often said to -himself, in a sort of rage: - -"To love, and to be loved--that is everything! All else is vanity." - -He had really tried to love his wife; he had done his best to rekindle -the admiration with which she had inspired him at their first meeting. -He had not succeeded. - -Between them there seemed to be a wall of ice which nothing could -melt, and which was constantly increasing in height and thickness. - -"Why is it?" he wondered, again and again. "It is incomprehensible. -There are days when I could swear that she loved me. Her character, -formerly so irritable, is entirely changed; she is gentleness itself." - -But he could not conquer his aversion; it was stronger than his own -will. - -These unavailing regrets, and the disappointments and sorrow that -preyed upon him, undoubtedly aggravated the bitterness and severity of -Martial's policy. - -But he, at least, knew how to fall nobly. - -He passed, without even a change of countenance, from almost -omnipotence to a position so compromising that his very life was -endangered. - -On seeing his ante-chambers, formerly thronged with flatterers and -office-seekers, empty and deserted, he laughed, and his laugh was -unaffected. - -"The ship is sinking," said he; "the rats have deserted it." - -He did not even pale when the noisy crowd came to hoot and curse and -hurl stones at his windows; and when Otto, his faithful /valet de -chambre/, entreated him to assume a disguise and make his escape -through the gardens, he responded: - -"By no means! I am simply odious; I do not wish to become ridiculous!" - -They could not even dissuade him from going to a window and looking -down upon the rabble in the street below. - -A singular idea had just occurred to him. - -"If Jean Lacheneur is still alive," he thought, "how much he would -enjoy this! And if he is alive, he is undoubtedly there in the -foremost rank, urging on the crowd." - -And he wished to see. - -But Jean Lacheneur was in Russia at that epoch. The excitement -subsided; the Hotel de Sairmeuse was not seriously threatened. Still -Martial realized that it would be better for him to go away for a -while, and allow people to forget him. - -He did not ask the duchess to accompany him. - -"The fault has been mine entirely," he said to her, "and to make you -suffer for it by condemning you to exile would be unjust. Remain here; -I think it will be much better for you to remain here." - -She did not offer to go with him. It would have been a pleasure to -her, but she dared not leave Paris. She knew that she must remain in -order to insure the silence of her persecutors. Both times she had -left Paris before, all came near being discovered, and yet she had -Aunt Medea, then, to take her place. - -Martial went away, accompanied only by his devoted servant, Otto. In -intelligence, this man was decidedly superior to his position; he -possessed an independent fortune, and he had a hundred reasons--one, -by the way, was a very pretty one--for desiring to remain in Paris; -but his master was in trouble, and he did not hesitate. - -For four years the Duc de Sairmeuse wandered over Europe, ever -accompanied by his /ennui/ and his dejection, and chafing beneath the -burden of a life no longer animated by interest or sustained by hope. - -He remained awhile in London, then he went to Vienna, afterward to -Venice. One day he was seized by an irresistible desire to see Paris -again, and he returned. - -It was not a very prudent step, perhaps. His bitterest enemies-- -personal enemies, whom he had mortally offended and persecuted--were -in power; but he did not hesitate. Besides, how could they injure him, -since he had no favors to ask, no cravings of ambition to satisfy? - -The exile which had weighed so heavily upon him, the sorrow, the -disappointments and loneliness he had endured had softened his nature -and inclined his heart to tenderness; and he returned firmly resolved -to overcome his aversion to his wife, and seek a reconciliation. - -"Old age is approaching," he thought. "If I have not a beloved wife at -my fireside, I may at least have a friend." - -His manner toward her, on his return, astonished Mme. Blanche. She -almost believed she saw again the Martial of the little blue salon at -Courtornieu; but the realization of her cherished dream was now only -another torture added to all the others. - -Martial was striving to carry his plan into execution, when the -following laconic epistle came to him one day through the post: - - - "Monsieur le Duc--I, if I were in your place, would watch my wife." - - -It was only an anonymous letter, but Martial's blood mounted to his -forehead. - -"Can it be that she has a lover?" he thought. - -Then reflecting on his own conduct toward his wife since their -marriage, he said to himself: - -"And if she has, have I any right to complain? Did I not tacitly give -her back her liberty?" - -He was greatly troubled, and yet he would not have degraded himself so -much as to play the spy, had it not been for one of those trifling -circumstances which so often decide a man's destiny. - -He was returning from a ride on horseback one morning about eleven -o'clock, and he was not thirty paces from the Hotel de Sairmeuse when -he saw a lady hurriedly emerge from the house. She was very plainly -dressed--entirely in black--but her whole appearance was strikingly -that of the duchess. - -"It is certainly my wife; but why is she dressed in such a fashion?" -he thought. - -Had he been on foot he would certainly have entered the house; as it -was, he slowly followed Mme. Blanche, who was going up the Rue -Crenelle. She walked very quickly, and without turning her head, and -kept her face persistently shrouded in a very thick veil. - -When she reached the Rue Taranne, she threw herself into one of the -/fiacres/ at the carriage-stand. - -The coachman came to the door to speak to her; then nimbly sprang upon -the box, and gave his bony horses one of those cuts of the whip that -announce a princely /pourboire/. - -The carriage had already turned the corner of the Rue du Dragon, and -Martial, ashamed and irresolute, had not moved from the place where he -had stopped his horse, just around the corner of the Rue Saint Pares. - -Not daring to admit his suspicions, he tried to deceive himself. - -"Nonsense!" he thought, giving the reins to his horse, "what do I risk -in advancing? The carriage is a long way off by this time, and I shall -not overtake it." - -He did overtake it, however, on reaching the intersection of the -Croix-Rouge, where there was, as usual, a crowd of vehicles. - -It was the same /fiacre/; Martial recognized it by its green body, and -its wheels striped with white. - -Emerging from the crowd of carriages, the driver whipped up his -horses, and it was at a gallop that they flew up the Rue du Vieux -Columbier--the narrowest street that borders the Place Saint Sulpice-- -and gained the outer boulevards. - -Martial's thoughts were busy as he trotted along about a hundred yards -behind the vehicle. - -"She is in a terrible hurry," he said to himself. "This, however, is -scarcely the quarter for a lover's rendezvous." - -The carriage had passed the Place d'Italie. It entered the Rue du -Chateau-des-Rentiers and soon paused before a tract of unoccupied -ground. - -The door was at once opened, and the Duchesse de Sairmeuse hastily -alighted. - -Without stopping to look to the right or to the left, she hurried -across the open space. - -A man, by no means prepossessing in appearance, with a long beard, and -with a pipe in his mouth, and clad in a workman's blouse, was seated -upon a large block of stone not far off. - -"Will you hold my horse a moment?" inquired Martial. - -"Certainly," answered the man. - -Had Martial been less preoccupied, his suspicions might have been -aroused by the malicious smile that curved the man's lips; and had he -examined his features closely, he would perhaps have recognized him. - -For it was Jean Lacheneur. - -Since addressing that anonymous letter to the Duc de Sairmeuse, he had -made the duchess multiply her visits to the Widow Chupin; and each -time he had watched for her coming. - -"So, if her husband decides to follow her I shall know it," he -thought. - -It was indispensable for the success of his plans that Mme. Blanche -should be watched by her husband. - -For Jean Lacheneur had decided upon his course. From a thousand -schemes for revenge he had chosen the most frightful and ignoble that -a brain maddened and enfevered by hatred could possibly conceive. - -He longed to see the haughty Duchesse de Sairmeuse subjected to the -vilest ignominy, Martial in the hands of the lowest of the low. He -pictured a bloody struggle in this miserable den; the sudden arrival -of the police, summoned by himself, who would arrest all the parties -indiscriminately. He gloated over the thought of a trial in which the -crime committed at the Borderie would be brought to light; he saw the -duke and the duchess in prison, and the great names of Sairmeuse and -of Courtornieu shrouded in eternal disgrace. - -And he believed that nothing was wanting to insure the success of his -plans. He had at his disposal two miserable wretches who were capable -of any crime; and an unfortunate youth named Gustave, made his willing -slave by poverty and cowardice, was intended to play the part of -Marie-Anne's son. - -These three accomplices had no suspicion of his real intentions. As -for the Widow Chupin and her son, if they suspected some infamous -plot, the name of the duchess was all they really knew in regard to -it. Moreover, Jean held Polyte and his mother completely under his -control by the wealth which he had promised them if they served him -docilely. - -And if Martial followed his wife into the Poivriere, Jean had so -arranged matters that the duke would at first suppose that she had -been led there by charity. - -"But he will not go in," thought Lacheneur, whose heart throbbed -wildly with sinister joy as he held Martial's horse. "Monsieur le Duc -is too fine for that." - -And Martial did not go in. Though he was horrified when he saw his -wife enter that vile den, as if she were at home there, he said to -himself that he should learn nothing by following her. - -He, therefore, contented himself by making a thorough examination of -the outside of the house; then, remounting his horse, he departed on a -gallop. He was completely mystified; he did not know what to think, -what to imagine, what to believe. - -But he was fully resolved to fathom this mystery and as soon as he -returned home he sent Otto out in search of information. He could -confide everything to this devoted servant; he had no secrets from -him. - -About four o'clock his faithful /valet de chambre/ returned, an -expression of profound consternation visible upon his countenance. - -"What is it?" asked Martial, divining some great misfortune. - -"Ah, sir, the mistress of that wretched den is the widow of Chupin's -son----" - -Martial's face became as white as his linen. - -He knew life too well not to understand that since the duchess had -been compelled to submit to the power of these people, they must be -masters of some secret which she was willing to make any sacrifice to -preserve. But what secret? - -The years which had silvered Martial's hair, had not cooled the ardor -of his blood. He was, as he had always been, a man of impulses. - -He rushed to his wife's apartments. - -"Madame has just gone down to receive the Countess de Mussidan and the -Marquise d'Arlange," said the maid. - -"Very well; I will wait for her here. Retire." - -And Martial entered the chamber of Mme. Blanche. - -The room was in disorder, for the duchess, after returning from the -Poivriere, was still engaged in her toilet when the visitors were -announced. - -The wardrobe-doors were open, the chairs were encumbered with wearing -apparel, the articles which Mme. Blanche used daily--her watch, her -purse, and several bunches of keys--were lying upon the dressing-table -and mantel. - -Martial did not sit down. His self-possession was returning. - -"No folly," he thought, "if I question her, I shall learn nothing. I -must be silent and watchful." - -He was about to retire, when, on glancing about the room, his eyes -fell upon a large casket, inlaid with silver, which had belonged to -his wife ever since she was a young girl, and which accompanied her -everywhere. - -"That, doubtless, holds the solution of the mystery," he said to -himself. - -It was one of those moments when a man obeys the dictates of passion -without pausing to reflect. He saw the keys upon the mantel; he seized -them, and endeavored to find one that would fit the lock of the -casket. The fourth key opened it. It was full of papers. - -With feverish haste, Martial examined the contents. He had thrown -aside several unimportant letters, when he came to a bill that read as -follows: - -"Search for the child of Madame de Sairmeuse. Expenses for the third -quarter of the year 18--." - -Martial's brain reeled. - -A child! His wife had a child! - -He read on: "For services of two agents at Sairmeuse, ----. For -expenses attending my own journey, ----. Divers gratuities, ----. -Etc., etc." The total amounted to six thousand francs. The bill was -signed "Chelteux." - -With a sort of cold rage, Martial continued his examination of the -contents of the casket, and found a note written in a miserable hand, -that said: "Two thousand francs this evening, or I will tell the duke -the history of the affair at the Borderie." Then several more bills -from Chelteux; then a letter from Aunt Medea in which she spoke of -prison and of remorse. And finally, at the bottom of the casket, he -found the marriage-certificate of Marie-Anne Lacheneur and Maurice -d'Escorval, drawn up by the Cure of Vigano and signed by the old -physician and Corporal Bavois. - -The truth was as clear as daylight. - -Stunned, frozen with horror, Martial scarcely had strength to return -the letters to the casket and restore it to its place. - -Then he tottered back to his own room, clinging to the walls for -support. - -"It was she who murdered Marie-Anne," he murmured. - -He was confounded, terror-stricken by the perfidy and baseness of this -woman who was his wife--by her criminal audacity, by her cool -calculation and assurance, by her marvellous powers of dissimulation. - -He swore he would discover all, either through the duchess or through -the Widow Chupin; and he ordered Otto to procure a costume for him -such as was generally worn by the /habitues/ of the Poivriere. He did -not know how soon he might have use for it. - -This happened early in February, and from that moment Mme. Blanche did -not take a single step without being watched. Not a letter reached her -that her husband had not previously read. - -And she had not the slightest suspicion of the constant espionage to -which she was subjected. - -Martial did not leave his room; he pretended to be ill. To meet his -wife and be silent, was beyond his powers. He remembered the oath of -vengeance which he had pronounced over Marie-Anne's lifeless form too -well. - -But there were no new revelations, and for this reason: Polyte Chupin -had been arrested under charge of theft, and this accident caused a -delay in the execution of Lacheneur's plans. But, at last, he judged -that all would be in readiness on the 20th of February, Shrove Sunday. - -The evening before the Widow Chupin, in conformance with his -instructions, wrote to the duchess that she must come to the Poivriere -Sunday evening at eleven o'clock. - -On that same evening Jean was to meet his accomplices at a ball at the -Rainbow--a public-house bearing a very unenviable reputation--and give -them their last instructions. - -These accomplices were to open the scene; he was to appear only in the -/denouement/. - -"All is well arranged; the mechanism will work of its own accord," he -said to himself. - -But the "mechanism," as he styled it, failed to work. - -Mme. Blanche, on receiving the Widow Chupin's summons, revolted for a -moment. The lateness of the hour, the isolation of the spot -designated, frightened her. - -But she was obliged to submit, and on the appointed evening she -furtively left the house, accompanied by Camille, the same servant who -had witnessed Aunt Medea's last agony. - -The duchess and her maid were attired like women of the very lowest -order, and felt no fear of being seen or recognized. - -And yet a man was watching them, and he quickly followed them. It was -Martial. - -Knowing of this rendezvous even before his wife, he had disguised -himself in the costume Otto had procured for him, which was that of a -laborer about the quays; and, as he was a man who did perfectly -whatever he attempted to do, he had succeeded in rendering himself -unrecognizable. His hair and beard were rough and matted; his hands -were soiled and grimed with dirt; he was really the abject wretch -whose rags he wore. - -Otto had begged to be allowed to accompany him; but the duke refused, -saying that the revolver which he would take with him would be -sufficient protection. He knew Otto well enough, however, to be -certain he would disobey him. - -Ten o'clock was sounding when Mme. Blanche and Camille left the house, -and it did not take them five minutes to reach the Rue Taranne. - -There was one /fiacre/ on the stand--one only. - -They entered it and it drove away. - -This circumstance drew from Martial an oath worthy of his costume. -Then he reflected that, since he knew where to find his wife, a slight -delay in finding a carriage did not matter. - -He soon obtained one; and the coachman, thanks to a /pourboire/ of ten -francs, drove to the Rue du Chateau-des-Rentiers as fast as his horses -could go. - -But the duke had scarcely set foot on the ground before he heard the -rumbling of another carriage which stopped abruptly at a little -distance. - -"Otto is evidently following me," he thought. - -And he started across the open space in the direction of the -Poivriere. - -Gloom and silence prevailed on every side, and were made still more -oppressive by a chill fog that heralded an approaching thaw. Martial -stumbled and slipped at almost every step upon the rough, snow-covered -ground. - -It was not long before he could distinguish a dark mass in the midst -of the fog. It was the Poivriere. The light within filtered through -the heart-shaped openings in the blinds, looking at a distance like -lurid eyes gleaming in the darkness. - -Could it really be possible that the Duchesse de Sairmeuse was there! - -Martial cautiously approached the window, and clinging to the hinges -of one of the shutters, he lifted himself up so he could peer through -the opening. - -Yes, his wife was indeed there in that vile den. - -She and Camille were seated at a table before a large punch-bowl, and -in company with two ragged, leering scoundrels, and a soldier, quite -youthful in appearance. - -In the centre of the room stood the Widow Chupin, with a small glass -in her hand, talking volubly and punctuating her sentences by copious -draughts of brandy. - -The impression produced upon Martial was so terrible that his hold -relaxed and he dropped to the ground. - -A ray of pity penetrated his soul, for he vaguely realized the -frightful suffering which had been the chastisement of the murderess. - -But he desired another glance at the interior of the hovel, and he -again lifted himself up to the opening and looked in. - -The old woman had disappeared; the young soldier had risen from the -table and was talking and gesticulating earnestly. Mme. Blanche and -Camille were listening to him with the closest attention. - -The two men who were sitting face to face, with their elbows upon the -table, were looking at each other; and Martial saw them exchange a -significant glance. - -He was not wrong. The scoundrels were plotting "a rich haul." - -Mme. Blanche, who had dressed herself with such care, that to render -her disguise perfect she had encased her feet in large, coarse shoes -that were almost killing her--Mme. Blanche had forgotten to remove her -superb diamond ear-rings. - -She had forgotten them, but Lacheneur's accomplices had noticed them, -and were now regarding them with eyes that glittered more brilliantly -than the diamonds themselves. - -While awaiting Lacheneur's coming, these wretches, as had been agreed -upon, were playing the part which he had imposed upon them. For this, -and their assistance afterward, they were to receive a certain sum of -money. - -But they were thinking that this sum was not, perhaps, a quarter part -of the value of these jewels, and they exchanged glances that said: - -"Ah! if we could only get them and make our escape before Lacheneur -comes!" - -The temptation was too strong to be resisted. - -One of them rose suddenly, and, seizing the duchess by the back of the -neck, he forced her head down upon the table. - -The diamonds would have been torn from the ears of Mme. Blanche had it -not been for Camille, who bravely came to the aid of her mistress. - -Martial could endure no more. He sprang to the door of the hovel, -opened it, and entered, bolting it behind him. - -"Martial!" - -"Monsieur le Duc!" - -These cries escaping the lips of Mme. Blanche and Camille in the same -breath, changed the momentary stupor of their assailants into fury; -and they both precipitated themselves upon Martial, determined to kill -him. - -With a spring to one side, Martial avoided them. He had his revolver -in his hand; he fired twice and the wretches fell. But he was not yet -safe, for the young soldier threw himself upon him, and attempted to -disarm him. - -Through all the furious struggle, Martial did not cease crying, in a -panting voice: - -"Fly! Blanche, fly! Otto is not far off. The name--save the honor of -the name!" - -The two women obeyed, making their escape through the back door, which -opened upon the garden; and they had scarcely done so, before a -violent knocking was heard at the front door. - -The police were coming! This increased Martial's frenzy; and with one -supreme effort to free himself from his assailant, he gave him such a -violent push that his adversary fell, striking his head against the -corner of the table, after which he lay like one dead. - -But the Widow Chupin, who had come downstairs on hearing the uproar, -was shrieking upon the stairs. At the door someone was crying: "Open -in the name of the law!" - -Martial might have fled; but if he fled, the duchess might be -captured, for he would certainly be pursued. He saw the peril at a -glance, and his decision was made. - -He shook the Widow Chupin violently by the arm, and said, in an -imperious voice: - -"If you know how to hold your tongue you shall have one hundred -thousand francs." - -Then, drawing a table before the door opening into the adjoining room, -he intrenched himself behind it as behind a rampart, and awaited the -approach of the enemy. - -The next moment the door was forced open, and a squad of police, under -the command of Inspector Gevrol, entered the room. - -"Surrender!" cried the inspector. - -Martial did not move; his pistol was turned upon the intruder. - -"If I can parley with them, and hold them in check only two minutes, -all may yet be saved," he thought. - -He obtained the wished-for delay; then he threw his weapon to the -ground, and was about to bound through the back-door, when a -policeman, who had gone round to the rear of the house, seized him -about the body, and threw him to the floor. - -From this side he expected only assistance, so he cried: - -"Lost! It is the Prussians who are coming!" - -In the twinkling of an eye he was bound; and two hours later he was an -inmate of the station-house at the Place d'Italie. - -He had played his part so perfectly, that he had deceived even Gevrol. -The other participants in the broil were dead, and he could rely upon -the Widow Chupin. But he knew that the trap had been set for him by -Jean Lacheneur; and he read a whole volume of suspicion in the eyes of -the young officer who had cut off his retreat, and who was called -Lecoq by his companions. - - - -CHAPTER LV - -The Duc de Sairmeuse was one of those men who remain superior to all -fortuitous circumstances, good or bad. He was a man of vast -experience, and great natural shrewdness. His mind was quick to act, -and fertile in resources. But when he found himself immured in the -damp and loathsome station-house, after the terrible scenes at the -Poivriere, he relinquished all hope. - -Martial knew that Justice does not trust to appearances, and that when -she finds herself confronted by a mystery, she does not rest until she -has fathomed it. - -Martial knew, only too well, that if his identity was established, the -authorities would endeavor to discover the reason of his presence at -the Poivriere. That this reason would soon be discovered, he could not -doubt, and, in that case, the crime at the Borderie, and the guilt of -the duchess, would undoubtedly be made public. - -This meant the Court of Assizes, prison, a frightful scandal, -dishonor, eternal disgrace! - -And the power he had wielded in former days was a positive -disadvantage to him now. His place was now filled by his political -adversaries. Among them were two personal enemies upon whom he had -inflicted those terrible wounds of vanity which are never healed. What -an opportunity for revenge this would afford them! - -At the thought of this ineffaceable stain upon the great name of -Sairmeuse, which was his pride and his glory, reason almost forsook -him. - -"My God, inspire me," he murmured. "How shall I save the honor of the -name?" - -He saw but one chance of salvation--death. They now believed him one -of the miserable wretches that haunt the suburbs of Paris; if he were -dead they would not trouble themselves about his identity. - -"It is the only way!" he thought. - -He was endeavoring to find some means of accomplishing his plan of -self-destruction, when he heard a bustle and confusion outside. In a -few moments the door was opened and a man was thrust into the same -cell--a man who staggered a few steps, fell heavily to the floor, and -began to snore loudly. It was only a drunken man. - -But a gleam of hope illumined Martial's heart, for in the drunken man -he recognized Otto--disguised, almost unrecognizable. - -It was a bold ruse and no time must be lost in profiting by it. -Martial stretched himself upon a bench, as if to sleep, in such a way -that his head was scarcely a yard from that of Otto. - -"The duchess is out of danger," murmured the faithful servant. - -"For to-day, perhaps. But to-morrow, through me, all will be known." - -"Have you told them who you are?" - -"No; all the policemen but one took me for a vagabond." - -"You must continue to personate this character." - -"What good will it do? Lacheneur will betray me." - -But Martial, though he little knew it, had no need to fear Lacheneur -for the present, at least. A few hours before, on his way from the -Rainbow to the Poivriere, Jean had been precipitated to the bottom of -a stone quarry, and had fractured his skull. The laborers, on -returning to their work early in the morning, found him lying there -senseless; and at that very moment they were carrying him to the -hospital. - -Although Otto was ignorant of this circumstance, he did not seem -discouraged. - -"There will be some way of getting rid of Lacheneur," said he, "if you -will only sustain your present character. An escape is an easy matter -when a man has millions at his command." - -"They will ask me who I am, whence I came, how I have lived." - -"You speak English and German; tell them that you have just returned -from foreign lands; that you were a foundling and that you have always -lived a roving life." - -"How can I prove this?" - -Otto drew a little nearer his master, and said, impressively: - -"We must agree upon our plans, for our success depends upon a perfect -understanding between us. I have a sweetheart in Paris--and no one -knows our relations. She is as sharp as steel. Her name is Milner, and -she keeps the Hotel de Mariembourg, on the Saint-Quentin. You can say -that you arrived here from Leipsic on Sunday; that you went to this -hotel; that you left your trunk there, and that this trunk is marked -with the name of May, foreign artist." - -"Capital!" said Martial, approvingly. - -And then, with extraordinary quickness and precision, they agreed, -point by point, upon their plan of defence. - -When all had been arranged, Otto pretended to awake from the heavy -sleep of intoxication; he clamored to be released, and the keeper -finally opened the door and set him at liberty. - -Before leaving the station-house, however, he succeeded in throwing a -note to the Widow Chupin, who was imprisoned in the other compartment. - -So, when Lecoq, after his skilful investigations at the Poivriere, -rushed to the Place d'Italie, panting with hope and ambition, he found -himself outwitted by these men, who were inferior to him in -penetration, but whose /finesse/ was superior to his own. - -Martial's plans being fully formed, he intended to carry them out with -absolute perfection of detail, and, after his removal to prison, the -Duc de Sairmeuse was preparing himself for the visit of the judge of -instruction, when Maurice d'Escorval entered. - -They recognized each other. They were both terribly agitated, and the -examination was an examination only in name. After the departure of -Maurice, Martial attempted to destroy himself. He had no faith in the -generosity of his former enemy. - -But when he found M. Segmuller occupying Maurice's place the next -morning, Martial believed that he was saved. - -Then began that struggle between the judge and Lecoq on one side, and -the accused on the other--a struggle from which neither party came out -conqueror. - -Martial knew that Lecoq was the only person he had to fear, still he -bore him no ill-will. Faithful to his nature, which compelled him to -be just even to his enemies, he could not help admiring the -astonishing penetration and perseverance of this young policeman who, -undismayed by the obstacles and discouragements that surrounded him, -struggled on, unassisted, to reach the truth. - -But Lecoq was always outwitted by Otto, the mysterious accomplice, who -seemed to know his every movement in advance. - -At the morgue, at the Hotel de Mariembourg, with Toinon, the wife of -Polyte Chupin, as well as with Polyte Chupin himself, Lecoq was just a -little too late. - -Lecoq detected the secret correspondence between the prisoner and his -accomplice. He was even ingenious enough to discover the key to it, -but this served no purpose. A man, who had seen a rival, or rather, a -future master, in Lecoq had betrayed him. - -If his efforts to arrive at the truth through the jeweller and the -Marquis d'Arlange had failed, it was only because Mme. Blanche had not -purchased the diamond ear-rings she wore at the Poivriere at any shop, -but from one of her friends, the Baroness de Watchau. - -And lastly, if no one at Paris had missed the Duc de Sairmeuse, it was -because--thanks to an understanding between the duchess, Otto, and -Camille--no other inmate of the Hotel de Sairmeuse suspected his -absence. All the servants supposed their master confined to his room -by illness. They prepared all sorts of gruels and broths for him, and -his breakfast and dinner were taken to his apartments every day. - -So the weeks went by, and Martial was expecting to be summoned before -the Court of Assizes and condemned under the name of May, when he was -afforded an opportunity to escape. - -Too shrewd not to discern the trap that had been set for him, he -endured some moments of horrible hesitation in the prison-van. - -He decided to accept the risk, however, commending himself to his -lucky star. - -And he decided wisely, for that same night he leaped his own garden- -wall, leaving, as a hostage, in the hands of Lecoq, an escaped -convict, Joseph Conturier by name, whom he had picked up in a low -drinking-saloon. - -Warned by Mme. Milner, thanks to a blunder on the part of Lecoq, Otto -was awaiting his master. - -In the twinkling of an eye Martial's beard fell under the razor; he -plunged into the bath that was awaiting him, and his clothing was -burned. - -And it was he who, during the search a few minutes later, had the -hardihood to call out: - -"Otto, by all means allow these men to do their duty." - -But he did not breathe freely until the agents of police had departed. - -"At last," he exclaimed, "honor is saved! We have outwitted Lecoq!" - -He had just left the bath, and enveloped himself in a /robe de -chambre/, when Otto handed him a letter from the duchess. - -He hastily broke the seal and read: - - - "You are safe. You know all. I am dying. Farewell. I loved you." - - -With two bounds he reached his wife's apartments. The door was locked; -he burst it open. Too late! - -Mme. Blanche was dead--poisoned, like Marie-Anne; but she had procured -a drug whose effect was instantaneous; and extended upon her couch, -clad in her wonted apparel, her hands folded upon her breast, she -seemed only asleep. - -A tear glittered in Martial's eye. - -"Poor, unhappy woman!" he murmured; "may God forgive you as I forgive -you--you whose crime has been so frightfully expiated here below!" - - - - EPILOGUE - - THE FIRST SUCCESS - -Safe, in his own princely mansion, and surrounded by an army of -retainers, the Duc de Sairmeuse triumphantly exclaimed: - -"We have outwitted Lecoq." - -In this he was right. - -But he thought himself forever beyond the reach of the wily, keen- -witted detective; and in this he was wrong. - -Lecoq was not the man to sit down with folded hands and brood over the -humiliation of his defeat. - -Before he went to Father Tabaret, he was beginning to recover from his -stupor and despondency; and when he left that experienced detective's -presence, he had regained his courage, his command over his faculties, -and sufficient energy to move the world, if necessary. - -"Well, my good man," he remarked to Father Absinthe, who was trotting -along by his side, "you have heard what the great Monsieur Tabaret -said, did you not? So you see I was right." - -But his companion evinced no enthusiasm. - -"Yes, you were right," he responded, in woebegone tones. - -"Do you think we are ruined by two or three mistakes? Nonsense! I will -soon turn our defeat of today into a glorious victory." - -"Ah! you might do so perhaps, if--they do not dismiss us from the -force." - -This doleful remark recalled Lecoq to a realizing sense of the present -situation. - -They had allowed a prisoner to slip through their fingers. That was -vexatious, it is true; but they had captured one of the most notorious -of criminals--Joseph Conturier. Surely there was some comfort in that. - -But while Lecoq could have borne dismissal, he could not endure the -thought that he would not be allowed to follow up this affair of the -Poivriere. - -What would his superior officers say when he told them that May and -the Duc de Sairmeuse were one and the same person? - -They would, undoubtedly, shrug their shoulders and turn up their -noses. - -"Still, Monsieur Segmuller will believe me," he thought. "But will he -dare to take any action in the matter without incontrovertible -evidence?" - -This was very unlikely. Lecoq realized it all too well. - -"Could we not make a descent upon the Hotel de Sairmeuse, and, on some -pretext or other, compel the duke to show himself, and identify him as -the prisoner May?" - -He entertained this idea only for an instant, then abruptly dismissed -it. - -"A stupid expedient!" he exclaimed. "Are two such men as the duke and -his accomplice likely to be caught napping? They are prepared for such -a visit, and we should only have our labor for our pains." - -He made these reflections /sotto voce/; and Father Absinthe's -curiosity was aroused. - -"Excuse me," said he, "I did not quite understand you." - -"I say that we must find some tangible proof before asking permission -to proceed further." - -He paused with knitted brows. - -In seeking a circumstance which would establish the complicity between -some member of the duke's household and the witnesses who had been -called upon to give their testimony, Lecoq thought of Mme. Milner, the -owner of the Hotel de Mariembourg, and his first meeting with her. - -He saw her again, standing upon a chair, her face on a level with a -cage, covered with a large piece of black silk, persistently repeating -three or four German words to a starling, who as persistently -retorted: "Camille! Where is Camille?" - -"One thing is certain," resumed Lecoq; "if Madame Milner--who is a -German and who speaks with the strongest possible German accent--had -raised this bird, it would either have spoken German or with the same -accent as its mistress. Therefore it cannot have been in her -possession long, and who gave it to her?" - -Father Absinthe began to grow impatient. - -"In sober earnest, what are you talking about?" he asked, petulantly. - -"I say that if there is someone at the Hotel de Sairmeuse named -Camille, I have the proof I desire. Come, Papa Absinthe, let us hurry -on." - -And without another word of explanation, he dragged his companion -rapidly along. - -When they reached the Rue de Crenelle, Lecoq saw a messenger leaning -against the door of a wine-shop. Lecoq called him. - -"Come, my boy," said he; "I wish you to go to the Hotel de Sairmeuse -and ask for Camille. Tell her that her uncle is waiting her here." - -"But, sir----" - -"What, you have not gone yet?" - -The messenger departed; the two policemen entered the wine-shop, and -Father Absinthe had scarcely had time to swallow a glass of brandy -when the lad returned. - -"Monsieur, I was unable to see Mademoiselle Camille. The house is -closed from top to bottom. The duchess died very suddenly this -morning." - -"Ah! the wretch!" exclaimed the young policeman. - -Then, controlling himself, he mentally added: - -"He must have killed his wife on returning home, but his fate is -sealed. Now, I shall be allowed to continue my investigations." - -In less than twenty minutes they arrived at the Palais de Justice. - -M. Segmuller did not seem to be immoderately surprised at Lecoq's -revelations. Still he listened with evident doubt to the young -policeman's ingenious deductions; it was the circumstance of the -starling that seemed to decide him. - -"Perhaps you are right, my dear Lecoq," he said, at last; "and to tell -the truth, I quite agree with you. But I can take no further action in -the matter until you can furnish proof so convincing in its nature -that the Duc de Sairmeuse will be unable to think of denying it." - -"Ah! sir, my superior officers will not allow me----" - -"On the contrary," interrupted the judge, "they will allow you the -fullest liberty after I have spoken to them." - -Such action on the part of M. Segmuller required not a little courage. -There had been so much laughter about M. Segmuller's /grand seigneur/, -disguised as a clown, that many men would have sacrificed their -convictions to the fear of ridicule. - -"And when will you speak to them?" inquired Lecoq, timidly. - -"At once." - -The judge had already turned toward the door when the young policeman -stopped him. - -"I have one more favor to ask, Monsieur," he said, entreatingly. "You -are so good; you are the first person who gave me any encouragement-- -who had faith in me." - -"Speak, my brave fellow." - -"Ah! Monsieur, will you not give me a message for Monsieur d'Escorval? -Any insignificant message--inform him of the prisoner's escape. I will -be the bearer of the message, and then-- Oh! fear nothing, Monsieur; I -will be prudent." - -"Very well!" replied the judge. - -When he left the office of his chief, Lecoq was fully authorized to -proceed with his investigations, and in his pocket was a note for M. -d'Escorval from M. Segmuller. His joy was so intense that he did not -deign to notice the sneers which were bestowed upon him as he passed -through the corridors. On the threshold his enemy Gevrol, the so- -called general, was watching for him. - -"Ah, ha!" he laughed, as Lecoq passed out, "here is one of those -simpletons who fish for whales and do not catch even a gudgeon." - -For an instant Lecoq was angry. He turned abruptly and looked Gevrol -full in the face. - -"That is better than assisting prisoners to carry on a surreptitious -correspondence with people outside," he retorted, in the tone of a man -who knows what he is saying. - -In his surprise, Gevrol almost lost countenance, and his blush was -equivalent to a confession. - -But Lecoq said no more. What did it matter to him now if Gevrol had -betrayed him! Was he not about to win a glorious revenge? - -He spent the remainder of the day in preparing his plan of action, and -in thinking what he should say when he took M. Segmuller's note to -Maurice d'Escorval. - -The next morning about eleven o'clock he presented himself at the -house of M. d'Escorval. - -"Monsieur is in his study with a young man," replied the servant; -"but, as he gave me no orders to the contrary, you may go in." - -Lecoq entered. - -The study was unoccupied. But from the adjoining room, separated from -the study only by a velvet /portiere/, came a sound of stifled -exclamations, and of sobs mingled with kisses. - -Not knowing whether to remain or retire, the young policeman stood for -a moment undecided; then he observed an open letter lying upon the -carpet. - -Impelled to do it by an impulse stronger than his own will, Lecoq -picked up the letter. It read as follows: - - - "The bearer of this letter is Marie-Anne's son, Maurice--your son. - I have given him all the proofs necessary to establish his - identity. It was to his education that I consecrated the heritage - of my poor Marie-Anne. - - "Those to whose care I confided him have made a noble man of him. - If I restore him to you, it is only because the life I lead is not - a fitting life for him. Yesterday, the miserable woman who - murdered my sister died from poison administered by her own hand. - Poor Marie-Anne! she would have been far more terribly avenged had - not an accident which happened to me, saved the Duc and the - Duchesse de Sairmeuse from the snare into which I had drawn them. - - "Jean Lacheneur." - - -Lecoq stood as if petrified. - -Now he understood the terrible drama which had been enacted in the -Widow Chupin's cabin. - -"I must go to Sairmeuse at once," he said to himself; "there I can -discover all." - -He departed without seeing M. d'Escorval. He resisted the temptation -to take the letter with him. - -It was exactly one month to a day after the death of Mme. Blanche. - -Reclining upon a divan in his library the Duc de Sairmeuse was engaged -in reading, when Otto, his /valet de chambre/, came to inform him that -a messenger was below, charged with delivering into the duke's own -hands a letter from M. Maurice d'Escorval. - -With a bound, Martial was on his feet. - -"Is it possible?" he exclaimed. - -Then he added, quickly: - -"Let the messenger enter." - -A large man, with a very florid complexion, and red hair and beard, -timidly handed the duke a letter, he broke the seal, and read: - - - "I saved you, Monsieur, by not recognizing the prisoner, May. In - your turn, aid me! By noon, day after to-morrow, I must have two - hundred and sixty thousand francs. - - "I have sufficient confidence in your honor to apply to you. - - "Maurice d'Escorval." - - -For a moment Martial stood bewildered, then, springing to a table, he -began writing, without noticing that the messenger was looking over -his shoulder: - - - "Monsieur--Not day after to-morrow, but this evening. My fortune - and my life are at your disposal. It is but a slight return for - the generosity you showed in retiring, when, beneath the rags of - May, you recognized your former enemy, now your devoted friend, - - "Martial de Sairmeuse." - - -He folded this letter with a feverish hand, and giving it to the -messenger with a louis, he said: - -"Here is the answer, make haste!" - -But the messenger did not go. - -He slipped the letter into his pocket, then with a hasty movement he -cast his red beard and wig upon the floor. - -"Lecoq!" exclaimed Martial, paler than death. - -"Lecoq, yes, Monsieur," replied the young detective. "I was obliged to -take my revenge; my future depended upon it, and I ventured to imitate -Monsieur d'Escorval's writing." - -And as Martial made no response: - -"I must also say to Monsieur le Duc," he continued, "that on -transmitting to the judge the confession written by the Duke's own -hand, of his presence at the Poivriere, I can and shall, at the same -time, furnish proofs of his entire innocence." - -And to show that he was ignorant of nothing, he added: - -"As madame is dead, there will be nothing said in regard to what took -place at the Borderie." - -A week later a verdict of not guilty was rendered by M. Segmuller in -the case of the Duc de Sairmeuse. - -Appointed to the position he coveted, Lecoq had the good taste, or -perhaps the shrewdness, to wear his honors modestly. - -But on the day of his promotion, he ordered a seal, upon which was -engraved the exultant rooster, which he had chosen as his armorial -design, and a motto to which he ever remained faithful: /Semper -Vigilan/. - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Honor of the Name, by Emile Gaboriau - |