As he alighted from his tilbury in the courtyard at Lagny, Raymon's
heart failed him. So he was once more to enter that house which recalled
such awful memories! His arguments, being in accord with his passions,
might enable him to overcome the impulses of his heart, but not to
stifle them, and at that moment the sensation of remorse was as keen as
that of desire.
The first person who came forward to meet him was Sir Ralph Brown, and
when he spied him in his everlasting hunting costume, flanked by his
hounds and sober as a Scotch laird, he fancied that the portrait he had
seen in Madame Delmare's chamber was walking before his eyes. A few
moments later the colonel appeared, and the breakfast was served without
Indiana. As he passed through the vestibule, by the door of the billiard
room, and recognized the places he had previously seen under such
different circumstances, Raymon was so distressed that he could hardly
remember why he had come there now.
"Is Madame Delmare really not coming down?" the colonel asked his
factotum Lelièvre, with some asperity.
"Madame slept badly," replied Lelièvre, "and Mademoiselle Noun--that
devil of a name keeps coming to my tongue!--Mademoiselle Fanny, I mean,
just told me that madame is lying down now."
"How does it happen then that I just saw her at her window? Fanny is
mistaken. Go and tell madame that breakfast is served; or stay--Sir
Ralph, my dear kinsman, be pleased to go up and see for yourself if your
cousin is really ill."
While the unfortunate name that the servant had mentioned from habit
caused Raymon's nerves a painful thrill, the colonel's expedient caused
him a strange sensation of jealous anger.
"In her bedroom!" he thought. "He doesn't confine himself to hanging the
man's portrait there, but sends him there in person. This Englishman has
privileges here which the husband himself seems to be afraid to claim."
"Don't let that surprise you," said Monsieur Delmare, as if he had
divined Raymon's reflections; "Monsieur Brown is the family physician;
and then he's our cousin too, a fine fellow whom we love with all our
hearts."
Ralph remained absent ten minutes. Raymon was distraught, ill at ease.
He did not eat and kept looking at the door. At last the Englishman
reappeared.
"Indiana is really ill," he said; "I told her to go back to bed."
He took his seat tranquilly and ate with a robust appetite. The colonel
did likewise.
"This is evidently a pretext to avoid seeing me," thought Raymon. "These
two men don't suspect it, and the husband is more displeased than
worried about his wife's condition. Good! my affairs are progressing
more favorably than I hoped."
This resistance rearoused his determination and Noun's image vanished
from the dismal hangings, which, at the beginning, had congealed his
blood with terror. Soon he saw nothing but Madame Delmare's slender
form. In the salon he sat at her embroidery frame, examined the flowers
she was making--talking all the while and feigning deep
interest--handled all the silks, inhaled the perfume her tiny fingers
had left upon them. He had seen the same piece of work before, in
Indiana's bedroom; then it was hardly begun, now it was covered with
flowers that had bloomed beneath the breath of fever, watered by her
daily tears. Raymon felt the tears coming to his own eyes, and, by
virtue of some unexplained sympathy, sadly raising his eyes to the
horizon, at which Indiana was in the habit of gazing in melancholy mood,
he saw in the distance the white walls of Cercy standing out against a
background of dark hills.
The colonel's voice roused him with a start.
"Well, my excellent neighbor," he said, "it is time for me to pay my
debt to you and keep my promises. The factory is in full swing and the
hands are all at work. Here are paper and pencils, so that you can take
notes."
Raymon followed the colonel, inspected the factory with an eager,
interested air, made comments which proved that chemistry and mechanics
were equally familiar to him, listened with incredible patience to
Monsieur Delmare's endless dissertations, coincided with some of his
ideas, combated some others, and in every respect so conducted himself
as to persuade his guide that he took an absorbing interest in these
things, whereas he was hardly thinking of them and all his thoughts were
directed toward Madame Delmare.
It was a fact that he was familiar with every branch of knowledge, that
no invention was without interest for him; moreover he was forwarding
the interests of his brother, who had really embarked his whole fortune
in a similar enterprise, although of much greater extent. Monsieur
Delmare's technical knowledge, his only claim to superiority, pointed
out to him at that moment the best method of taking advantage of this
interview.
Sir Ralph, who was a poor business man but a very shrewd politician,
suggested during the inspection of the factory some economical
considerations of considerable importance. The workmen, being anxious to
display their skill to an expert, surpassed themselves in deftness and
activity. Raymon looked at everything, heard everything, answered
everything, and thought of nothing but the love affair that brought him
to that place.
When they had exhausted the subject of machinery the discussion fell
upon the volume and force of the stream. They went out and climbed upon
the dam, bidding the overseer raise the gates and mark the different
depths.
"Monsieur," said the man, addressing Monsieur Delmare, who fixed the
maximum at fifteen feet, "I beg pardon, but we had it seventeen once
this year."
"When was that? You are mistaken," said the colonel.
"Excuse me, monsieur, it was on the eve of your return from Belgium, the
very night Mademoiselle Noun was found drowned; what I say is proved by
the fact that the body passed over that dike yonder and did not stop
until it got here, just where monsieur is standing."
Speaking thus, with much animation, the man pointed to where Raymon
stood. The unhappy young man turned pale as death; he cast a horrified
glance at the water flowing at his feet; it seemed to him that the livid
face was reflected in it, that the body was still floating there; he had
an attack of vertigo and would have fallen into the river had not
Monsieur Brown caught his arm and pulled him away.
"Very good," said the colonel, who noticed nothing, and who gave so
little thought to Noun that he did not suspect Raymon's emotion; "but
that was an extraordinary instance, and the average depth of the water
is--But what the devil's the matter with you two?" he inquired, suddenly
interrupting himself.
"Nothing," replied Sir Ralph; "as I turned I trod on monsieur's foot; I
am distressed, for I must have hurt him terribly."
Sir Ralph made this reply in so calm and natural a tone that Raymon was
convinced that he thought he was telling the truth. A few courteous
words were exchanged and the conversation resumed its course.
Raymon left Lagny a few hours later without seeing Madame Delmare. It
was better than he hoped; he had feared that he should find her calm and
indifferent.
However he repeated his visit with no better success. That time the
colonel was alone; Raymon put forth all the resources of his wit to
captivate him, and shrewdly descended to innumerable little acts of
condescension--praised Napoléon, whom he did not like, deplored the
indifference of the government, which left the illustrious remnant of
the Grande Armée in oblivion and something like contempt, carried
opposition tenets as far as his opinions would permit him to go, and
selected from his various beliefs those which were likely to flatter
Monsieur Delmare's. He even provided himself with a character different
from his real one, in order to attract his confidence. He transformed
himself into a _bon vivant_, a "hail fellow well met," a careless
good-for-naught.
"What if that fellow should ever make a conquest of my wife!" said the
colonel to himself as he watched him drive away.
Then he began to chuckle inwardly and to think that Raymon was a
_charming fellow._
Madame de Ramière was at Cercy at this time: Raymon extolled Madame
Delmare's charms and wit to her, and without urging her to call upon
her, had the art to suggest the thought.
"I believe she is the only one of my neighbors whom I do not know," she
said; "and as I am a new arrival in the neighborhood it is my place to
begin. We will go to Lagny together next week."
The appointed day arrived.
"She cannot avoid me now," thought Raymon.
In truth Madame Delmare could not escape the necessity of receiving him,
for when she saw an elderly woman she did not know step from the
carriage, she went out on the stoop herself to meet her. At the same
moment she recognized Raymon in the man who accompanied her; but she
realized that he must have deceived his mother to induce her to take
that step, and her displeasure on that account gave her strength to be
dignified and calm. She received Madame de Ramière with a mixture of
respect and affability; but her coldness to Raymon was so absolutely
glacial that he felt that he could not long endure it. He was not
accustomed to disdain and his pride took fire at being unable to conquer
with a glance those who were prepossessed against him. Thereupon,
deciding upon his course like a man who cared nothing for a woman's
whim, he asked permission to join Monsieur Delmare in the park and left
the two women together.
Little by little, vanquished by the charm which a superior intellect,
combined with a noble and generous heart, is capable of exerting even in
its least intimate relations, Indiana became affable, affectionate and
almost playful with Madame de Ramière. She had never known her mother,
and Madame de Carvajal, despite her presents and her words of praise,
was far from being a mother to her; so she felt a sort of fascination of
the heart with Raymon's mother.
When he joined her as she was stepping into her carriage he saw Indiana
put to her lips the hand that Madame de Ramière offered her. Poor
Indiana felt the need of having some one to cling to. Everything that
offered a prospect of interest and of companionship in her lonely and
unhappy life was welcomed by her with the keenest delight; and then she
said to herself that Madame de Ramière would preserve her from the
snare into which Raymon sought to lure her.
"I will throw myself into this good woman's arms," she was thinking
already, "and, if necessary, I will tell her everything. I will implore
her to save me from her son, and her prudence will stand guard over him
and over me."
Such was not Raymon's reasoning.
"Dear mother!" he said to himself, as he drove back with her to Cercy,
"her charm and her goodness of heart perform miracles. What do I not owe
to them already! my education, my success in life, my standing in
society. I lacked nothing but the happiness of owing to her the heart of
such a woman as Indiana."
Raymon, as we see, loved his mother because of his need of her and of
the well-being he owed to her; so do all children love their mothers.
A few days later Raymon received an invitation to pass three days at
Bellerive, a beautiful country seat owned by Sir Ralph Brown, between
Cercy and Lagny, where it was proposed, in concert with the best hunters
of the neighborhood, to destroy a part of the game that was devouring
the owner's woods and gardens. Raymon liked neither Sir Ralph nor
hunting, but Madame Delmare did the honors of her cousin's house on
great occasions, and the hope of meeting her soon decided Raymon to
accept the invitation.
The fact was that Sir Ralph did not expect Madame Delmare on this
occasion; she had excused herself on the ground of her wretched health.
But the colonel, who took umbrage when his wife sought diversion on her
own account, took still greater umbrage when she declined such
diversions as he chose to allow her.
"Do you want to make the whole province think that I keep you under lock
and key?" he said to her. "You make me appear like a jealous husband;
it's an absurd rôle and one that I do not propose to play any longer.
Besides, what does this lack of courtesy to your cousin mean? Does it
become you, when we owe to his friendship the establishment and
prosperity of our business, to refuse him such a service? You are
necessary to him and you hesitate! I cannot understand your whims. All
the people whom I don't like are sure of a hearty welcome from you; but
those whom I esteem are unfortunate enough not to please you."
"That reproach has very little application to the present case, I should
say," replied Madame Delmare. "I love my cousin like a brother, and my
affection for him was of long standing when yours began."
"Oh! yes, yes, more of your fine words; but I know that you don't find
him sentimental enough, the poor devil! you call him selfish because he
doesn't like novels and doesn't cry over the death of a dog. However,
he's not the only one. How did you receive Monsieur de Ramière? a
charming young fellow, on my word! Madame de Carvajal introduces him to
you and you receive him with the greatest affability; but I have the
ill-luck to think well of him and you pronounce him unendurable, and
when he calls upon you, you go to bed! Are you trying to make me appear
a perfect boor? It is time for this to come to an end and for you to
begin to live like other people."
Raymon deemed it inadvisable, in view of his plans, to show too much
eagerness; threats of indifference are successful with almost all women
who think that they are loved. But the hunting had been in progress
since morning when he reached Sir Ralph's, and Madame Delmare was not
expected until dinner time. He employed the interval in preparing a plan
of action.
It occurred to him that he must find some method of justifying his
conduct, for the critical moment was at hand. He had two days before him
and he determined to apportion the time thus: the rest of the day that
was nearly ended to make an impression, the next day to persuade and the
following day to be happy. He even consulted his watch and calculated
almost to an hour the time when his enterprise would succeed or fail.