Comtesse de Marvejols, who lives yonder--on the other side of the
square, beyond the avenue at the left."
When he heard his own name, Léodgard gave a sudden start and pushed away
the child who was leaning on him; but Blanche instantly returned to her
place between his legs and clung with her little hands to his
knee-breeches, crying:
"No, I want to stay with you! Nurse can't catch Blanche!"
The child's voice was so sweet, there was such a winning expression in
her lovely eyes, which she fixed upon the count, that he did not feel
the courage to spurn her again; a pleasing emotion made his heart beat
fast; his sensations were so unfamiliar to him that he could not define
them; but that unknown sentiment that found its way to his heart was
like a grateful shower falling suddenly upon the parched and arid
ground.
He gazed silently at the little girl, whose tiny pink hands were resting
upon him.
But the nurse, fearing that the child annoyed the strange gentleman,
seized Blanche by the arm and drew her away, saying:
"If you will not come, mademoiselle, I shall go home to your mamma and
tell her that her little girl would not come back to her."
One could be perfectly sure of being listened to by Blanche as soon as
one mentioned her mother; she instantly left the place she had adopted
and took her nurse's hand, saying:
"We go see mamma."
"Bid this gentleman adieu, and ask his pardon for disturbing him."
Blanche turned to Léodgard with a lovely smile, and nodded her head,
murmuring:
"Adieu--pardon."
Then the nursemaid took her in her arms and disappeared along one of the
leafy avenues.
The count remained where he sat, lost in thought; he was tempted more
than once to turn his head and look after Blanche, but he resisted the
temptation. After some time, he rose abruptly and left Place Royale,
saying to himself:
"It is after two o'clock; no one will come to-day."
The next day, Léodgard went to Place Royale at about the same hour as on
the preceding day. Although his mind was full of Valentine, and he was
most impatient to see the person whom she was to send to him, when he
found himself near the flower beds, where a multitude of children were
running about at play, his eyes wandered in all directions, seeking a
certain child among them, although he would not admit it to himself.
After walking about for a moment, the count took his seat on a
bench--the same one on which he had previously sat. He even waited a
short time for two people who were sitting there to leave, instead of
taking a seat elsewhere.
He seated himself in such a way that his back was turned to the Hôtel de
Marvejols, but he glanced very often toward the greensward where the
children were playing.
Suddenly the same sweet voice that had fascinated him the day before
rang in his ears, and he saw little Blanche running toward him with
outstretched arms, crying:
"The gentleman, nurse, the gentleman."
Léodgard could not help opening his own arms to receive the child; and
when little Blanche reached them, he could not resist the temptation to
press her to his heart and kiss her.
The nurse soon came up.
"Oh! monsieur," she said, "mademoiselle saw you in the distance and
recognized you at once; then I could not possibly hold her back! She
began to run toward you, crying: 'The gentleman!'--You must have taken
her fancy, for she doesn't go to everybody like that!"
"Is--is the child's mother with you to-day?" the count asked
hesitatingly.
"No, monsieur; madame la comtesse is better; but she isn't strong enough
to go out yet."
Léodgard seemed more at ease, and he kissed once more the child whom he
was entitled to call his daughter, but to whom he said simply:
"Do you know that you are very pretty?"
"Oh, yes!" the child replied, with a smile.
"But it isn't enough to be pretty," said the nurse. "Mademoiselle knows
that she must be good and obedient too, or else she would be ugly."
At that moment a poor, half-clad little boy, whose pinched features
denoted privation and suffering, stopped a few feet from the bench and
held out his hand to ask alms.
Little Blanche, as she glanced at the mendicant, ceased to smile, and
with her eyes questioned the nurse, who said:
"He is unfortunate; your mother, you know, always helps them and wants
you to do the same; she gives us money for that purpose. Here,
mademoiselle, would you like to give it to him yourself?"
Blanche eagerly took the coin which her nurse handed her, and ran to
give it to the little beggar, saying:
"Take this--poor boy!"
Léodgard followed the little girl's every movement; when she returned to
him, he took her in his arms once more and could not resist the longing
to kiss her again.
At that moment he heard a cry of surprise close at hand, and these words
fell on his ear:
"O mon Dieu! is it possible? What joy! Monsieur le comte embracing his
daughter!"
Léodgard instantly raised his eyes and saw Ambroisine, who had halted a
few steps from the bench, and was gazing at him, deeply moved.
To place the child hurriedly on the ground, to rise and walk rapidly
away--all that was a matter of a second for Léodgard.
Ambroisine stood as if petrified; even little Blanche seemed surprised
at the disappearance of "the gentleman"; and as for the nurse, the words
she had heard seemed to daze her, and she did nothing but murmur:
"Is it possible? Jésus bon Dieu! What! that gentleman who was kissing
our dear little one--can it be?--was monsieur le comte, her father! How
is it, then, that when I told him yesterday that mademoiselle belonged
to Madame la Comtesse de Marvejols, he didn't say: 'She is my
daughter'?"
"Yes, he is really her father, he is the Comte de Marvejols!" said
Ambroisine, with a sigh. "Oh! I am terribly sorry that I showed myself
and let those words escape me. But, no matter! he kissed her--and he
knew that she was his daughter.--Ah! I must make haste to tell
Bathilde--she will be so happy!--Come, Blanche; come, dear child; let us
hurry home to your mamma; we are going to make her very happy!"
Ambroisine took Blanche in her arms and returned to the Hôtel de
Marvejols, covering with kisses the lovely child, who made no objection
and seemed already to share the happiness that she diffused about her.
XLV
PRESENTIMENTS
After walking about for some time in the streets near Place Royale,
Léodgard said to himself:
"That Ambroisine probably has left the square now; she has taken the
child home, to tell Bathilde what she saw; so that I may safely return
to the place appointed; for it is not yet two o'clock, and if that girl
should go there and not find me, Valentine's pride would be offended,
and who can say that all hope would not be lost?"
The count returned to the place he had just left; but he advanced more
cautiously now, looking all about and scrutinizing everybody who
passed. His premonitions proved accurate; Ambroisine, with the child and
her nurse, had returned to the Hôtel de Marvejols.
The count did not take his place on the same bench, however, and he
constantly rose to walk a little and look about him.
He had been thus engaged for about half an hour, and his increasing
impatience had nearly led him to leave the square, when a girl coming
slowly along Rue des Tournelles, who had observed Léodgard's restless
movements, approached him and stopped, with every sign of intense
agitation.
"You are the person whom I have been expecting, doubtless?" said the
count, closely observing the girl, whose eyes assumed a strange
expression as she looked at him.
Miretta, for it was she who had stopped in front of Léodgard, replied in
a faltering voice, and as if under the influence of a secret terror:
"You are--Comte--Léodgard de Marvejols?"
"Yes, I am he; and you are sent by the lady who wrote me to be on this
square?"
"Yes, seigneur, yes--I come from her."
"But what is the matter with you, girl? Your voice trembles--you seem to
be intensely agitated. Can any misfortune have happened to your
mistress? have you a sad message to transmit to me? In heaven's name,
speak! This perturbation of yours is not natural."
"Mon Dieu! seigneur, I do not know myself why I tremble so, why my body
is suddenly bathed in cold perspiration. I have no misfortune to
announce--on the contrary, my message cannot fail to be agreeable to
you. But when I saw you, when I stopped in front of you, I felt a
strange oppression; I do not know what took place within me; it seemed
to me that I was dying."
"Control yourself; you must have walked too fast--and an attack of
dizziness---- But you seem to be better already?"
"Yes, seigneur, yes; it is passing away."
"Then you will perhaps deliver your message, and tell me----"
"That if you wish to see my mistress, she can accord you a few moments
this evening."
"If I wish to see her! Why, is it not my most earnest desire, my dearest
hope? What am I to do to obtain that favor?"
"Simply come to the house; but you will say to the concierge, whom I
will be careful to notify in advance, that you wish to see me. Once in
the courtyard, go to the rear, and on the right you will see a narrow
servants' staircase; go up to the second floor, and you will find me."
"And the marchioness?"
"She will be in my room; she will come there by a secret passage
communicating with her apartment."
"Very good. But does she not fear that the marquis will ask for
her--that he may go to her apartment?"
"Everything is provided for; this evening monsieur le marquis goes to a
large reception; madame has feigned an indisposition as a pretext for
not accompanying him. The only danger to be feared is that monsieur le
marquis may return too early--but that will not deter monsieur le comte,
I presume?"
"Nothing can deter me when it is a matter of seeing your beautiful
mistress. I ask these questions, I assure you, solely in the interest of
the marchioness. For my own part, I would joyfully encounter the
greatest perils to prove my love for her."
"This evening, then, seigneur, at nine."
"Good.--But one moment--you forget the most essential point; if I am to
ask for you, it is indispensable that I should know your name, and you
have not told me that."
"Pardon, monsieur le comte, I thought that my mistress had told you.
Well, you will say to the concierge: 'I am going to see Miretta.'"
"Miretta!" faltered Léodgard, to whose mind the young lady's-maid's name
seemed to recall a painful memory; and a sudden change took place in his
expression.
"Yes, seigneur, my name is Miretta," replied the pretty brunette, who
had observed the magical effect which her name produced on the count,
and wished to know the cause of it. "Does my name remind you of anyone
whom you have known?"
"No--no--no one," stammered Léodgard, who, as he strove to recover his
self-possession, scrutinized the girl with peculiar attention. "Have
you been long in the Marquise de Santoval's service?"
"I entered Mademoiselle de Mongarcin's service on my arrival in Paris,
more than three years ago. I had a letter of recommendation for
mademoiselle."
"Ah! and you came----"
"I came from Italy; I was reared in the outskirts of Milan."
Léodgard's features contracted still more, but in an instant he rejoined
hurriedly:
"This evening at nine o'clock; I will be prompt. Assure your mistress of
the zeal with which I shall fly to her."
As he spoke, Léodgard slipped a purse into Miretta's hand, then walked
away before she had time to realize his action.
The girl gazed with a feeling of repugnance at the purse the count had
put in her hand, and said to herself:
"Why does he give me this money? Does he think, I wonder, that I need it
to induce me to obey my mistress, to serve her faithfully? From her I
may properly accept the wages that I earn, but I wish for nothing from
others. I do not know why this young nobleman arouses a sort of secret
antipathy in my heart. I cannot understand what took place within me
when my eyes first beheld him;--all my blood rushed back to my heart.
And yet, I do not know the man. How is it that his expression changed
when I told him my name?--Oh! I detected his emotion! He shuddered; one
would have said that I frightened him! It is certain that it was not the
first time that he had heard the name Miretta. Perhaps it reminded him
of some other poor girl whom he seduced and then deserted!--But this
purse weighs upon me; I do not propose to keep it; it seems to me that
it burns me.--Ah! I know what I can do with it."
A little beggar was passing through the square; Miretta ran to him and
thrust into the little fellow's hand the purse filled with glistening
gold pieces.
"This is for you," she said; then she hurried away and disappeared,
leaving the boy utterly dumfounded by the fortune that had come to him;
but it was the same child to whom Blanche had given alms a few moments
before, and the alms of an angel should bring him good luck.
Miretta returned at once to the Hôtel de Santoval, and went straight to
her mistress; having assured herself that no one could hear them, she
said:
"Your errand is done, madame."
"You have seen the count?"
"Yes, madame; he was waiting on Place Royale. He will be here this
evening, at nine o'clock."
"You told him what direction he must take to reach your room?"
"Yes, madame.--Oh! he will not go astray."
"Did he seem very happy on receiving the appointment?"
"Oh, yes!--He would be glad, he said, to defy a thousand dangers to see
madame."
"Well! we will afford him that pleasure.--You had never seen Léodgard,
Miretta; is he not a charming cavalier?"
"Why, yes, madame; he is well favored."
"You say that as if you thought just the opposite!"
"Mon Dieu! madame, the fact is, that, although monsieur le comte is a
handsome gentleman, I--I do not like his face."
"You are hard to please, Miretta!"
"But--but I inferred--I thought from what madame had said to me, that
monsieur le comte had ceased to please her."
"I propose to have my revenge for the affront he put upon me! But that
does not prevent me from doing him justice.--The rendezvous this evening
will be without danger for him--at least, I think so; but I shall be
very glad to see at my feet the man who refused to be my husband! I long
to hear him make oaths of love, protestations of undying affection for
me. I want him to curse the day on which he allowed me to become the
wife of another man!"
"But, beware, madame!--Since you consider monsieur le comte so
fascinating, are you not afraid that that feeling will triumph over your
resentment, as you listen to his words of love?"
"Oh, no! no! I fear nothing!--Besides, you will stay with me, Miretta;
you will not leave me."
On both sides the coming of night was awaited with impatience.
It came at last, and about eight o'clock the Marquis de Santoval went to
his wife's apartment; she had feigned indisposition since the day
before, and had remained in her room.
The marquis glanced about him for some time with an expression that was
far from benevolent. He had never said a word to Valentine on the
subject of the young clerk whom he had had cudgelled. Monsieur de
Santoval was one of those men who do not speak for a mere suspicion, but
who collect facts, and are terrible when they allow the storm to burst
which they have long repressed in the depths of their hearts.
"Well, madame, how are you this evening?" he asked, as he seated himself
beside his wife.
"Still about the same, monsieur; my head aches, and I feel languid; I
must have a touch of fever.--See, feel my pulse."
"I know nothing of such matters, madame," replied the marquis; and he
did not touch the arm that his wife held out to him.
"Oh! that is a pity!"
"So you cannot come with me to the Duchesse de Brillac's?"
"You must realize that it is impossible, monsieur. In my opinion, one
should not go into society looking as if one were bored and ill! You
must make my excuses to the duchess."
"Yes, madame, yes. I am sorry to leave you not feeling well; and if I
had not promised the duke----"
"I should be very sorry to have you deprive yourself of an agreeable
evening because of a simple indisposition, entirely unattended by any
danger.--I have Miretta, who will stay with me, who will not leave me."
"Your faithful maid. That girl is very much attached to you, is she
not?"
"I think so; I have every reason to praise her zeal and her fidelity."
"And I think that she should congratulate herself on being in your
service. She must be very happy here; and yet, I have noticed of late
that she seems to be profoundly sad and depressed. A smile never appears
on her lips. Have not you noticed it, madame?"
"Pardon me, monsieur; but as I know the cause of her melancholy, I
overlook it."
"Ah! you know the cause of it?"
"Indeed, it is not difficult to guess: an unfortunate love affair; the
man she loves has disappeared!"
"Very good; I see that you know your maid's secrets."
"The poor girl is alone in this country, without kindred or friends. Why
should I not be interested in her?"
"You should, of course; and then, women are always compassionate for
troubles of the heart.--Well, madame, I go, with regret; take care of
your health."
"He has suspicions!" said Valentine to herself, when the marquis had
gone; "but what does it matter? I know the way to dispel them."
As the clock struck nine, a man enveloped in an ample cloak, and wearing
a hat whose broad brim concealed a large part of his face, knocked at
the gate of the hôtel. He gave the Cerberus the name of Miretta, and was
admitted; he crossed the courtyard and found on the right hand the
narrow staircase, which he was about to venture upon although it was not
lighted, when a small hand seized his and a voice said:
"Allow me to guide you, seigneur."
Léodgard abandoned his hand; the one that held it was cold and
trembling.
They went up two flights; a lamp stood in a corner of the second
landing, and the count recognized Miretta in the person who had served
as his guide.
She instantly dropped the hand she held, as if she were glad to escape
at last from a painful necessity. Taking the lamp, she walked ahead; and
Léodgard was soon ushered into a dimly lighted room, where he saw the
marchioness.
Valentine was seated on a sofa; her costume was entirely black, and
imparted a certain solemnity to her noble and majestic figure.
At sight of Léodgard she carefully repressed a thrill of joy which
sought expression in her eyes, and tried to replace by a pleasant smile
the gleam of triumph which passed over her face.
The count bowed low before her, and seated himself on a chair very near
the sofa. He seized her hand before she gave him permission, and covered
it with kisses; while incoherent words, which, however, accurately
depicted his love and the perturbation of his senses, poured rapidly
from his lips. But, happening to glance toward the end of the room, he
saw Miretta sitting there, with her head sunk upon her breast,
motionless as a statue. Thereupon Léodgard's flow of words ceased, and,
looking at Valentine, he asked her in an undertone:
"What is your maid doing here, pray?"
"Nothing; she is awaiting my orders."
"Do you not propose to order her to leave the room?"
"No, indeed! on the contrary, I told her to remain."
"Ah! I thought, madame, that you had taken pity on my torments and my
love!"
"Is it not taking pity on you, pray, to accord you this rendezvous--to
consent to listen to you?--Upon my word, men are never satisfied!"
"But one dares not speak of love before a third person."
"Why not, when that third person is in our confidence and privy to all
our secrets?"
"A tête-à-tête with you would have been so sweet to me!"
"Before granting a tête-à-tête, it is necessary to know one's mind; and
one must be very sure of being loved!"
"Can you doubt it?"
"More than any other woman, I am justified in doubting it, when it is
you who tell me so.--Really, monsieur le comte, your conduct is so
extraordinary--it is now so directly opposed to what it has been, that
at times I can place no faith in your words, and I ask myself if it is
really you, Comte Léodgard de Marvejols, who sit here beside me, talking
to me of love!--So it was necessary that I should become another man's
wife, to arouse in you this longing to love me and to tell me that you
love me!--You must agree that that is quite unique, to say the least!"
There was a suggestion of irony in Valentine's tone as she said this,
which would have offended Léodgard if he had been less in love; but he
thought of nothing but compelling the marchioness to revise the judgment
she had pronounced, and to forget the doubts she still felt.
Skilful in the art of seducing, eloquent when he really loved, tender
and ardent by turns in his language, Léodgard knew the road to a woman's
heart. Valentine was already listening to him with secret emotion; her
eyes expressed that dreamy languor which denotes disturbance in the
heart; when Miretta, who had been watching her mistress closely for some
time, suddenly sprang to her feet, crying:
"People in the courtyard--I heard the gate close! It must be monsieur le
marquis!"
"Ah! I must return to my apartment!" cried Valentine; "so that it may
not be known that I have left it!--Miretta will show you the way
out.--Adieu!"
"You leave me, madame; and I have no idea when I shall see you again!"
"I will let you know. Adieu!"
Valentine disappeared before Léodgard could say another word. He put on
his cloak, wrapped it about him, and followed Miretta in obedience to a
sign from her. The girl walked swiftly across the courtyard and knocked
on the concierge's window, calling:
"Open the gate; I am going out."
The gate opened, and Léodgard alone went out; Miretta hastened back to
her mistress, who said as soon as she saw her:
"You were mistaken, Miretta; the marquis has not returned. I have just
asked Joseph. No one came in."
"I know it, madame; pray forgive me, but I listened to that gentleman's
words, and I saw how moved you were. I was afraid for you--and for your
revenge."
"Perhaps you did well, Miretta; yes, this Léodgard is very dangerous.
However, he shall not cause me to forget the past. You may leave me now;
I need rest."
Miretta left her mistress and returned to her own room, engrossed by the
events of the day, unable to account for the feeling of repulsion which
the handsome Comte de Marvejols inspired in her, and regretting perhaps
that the gallant had succeeded in making his exit without any unpleasant
encounter.
But, although no one had appeared in the courtyard when Léodgard went
out, there was watching on the street, within twenty-five yards of the
hôtel, in a corner formed by two houses, a man with orders to take
notice of everybody who went into or out of the Hôtel de Santoval.
XLVI
A DUEL
Several days passed. Léodgard impatiently awaited the second rendezvous
which Valentine had promised him; he assumed that he would receive
another message from the marchioness by the hands of the little clerk.
The marquis returned from the reception with a darker cloud than usual
on his brow; the next day, he hardly inquired concerning his wife's
health, and the tone of the question was so ironical as to indicate his
utter disbelief in the indisposition of which she complained.
Valentine, although she seemed not to notice it, observed carefully the
progress of the jealousy that gnawed at her husband's heart.
Miretta too remarked that the marquis's servants were constantly at her
heels in the house, and seemed to watch her slightest movements.
"I do not know what is going on, madame," said the girl, when she was
alone with her mistress, "but I see that monsieur's people always have
their eyes on me now; perhaps before long I shall not be at liberty to
go out whenever I please.--What have I done? why do they spy upon me
so?"
"What, Miretta! do you not divine that monsieur le marquis is jealous?
and as he knows that I have great confidence in you, he thinks that you
may assist me in my intrigues."
"But in that case, madame, he will discharge me."
"Have no fear; he will soon do justice to us both."
Everything announced that a violent explanation was likely to take place
very soon. The marquis's glances foreboded a storm; but Valentine,
always calm and impassive, awaited events with the most absolute
tranquillity.
At last, Miretta one day rushed into the salon where the marquis and
Valentine were together. The girl was very much excited, and could
hardly control her voice to say:
"Madame--I was going out--I had someone to see to-day! But the concierge
has just refused to open the gate, and he told me that he did it by
monsieur le marquis's order."