pleasure of seeing his daughter. We do not fully realize the value of
things until we are deprived of them. Until that moment, the count had
thought perhaps that his daughter's presence was simply an agreeable
diversion; now, he felt that it had become an imperative need.
At last the doctor came, and Léodgard questioned him eagerly concerning
Blanche's condition.
The doctor began by allaying his fears, and continued:
"Even if this indisposition should prove to be one of the diseases
common to children, we would cure her."
"A disease! What disease do you suspect, doctor?"
"Why, it is what used to be called _Pusula_--the _feu ardent_, _feu
sauvage_, Saint Anthony's fire."[B]
[B] Erysipelas.
"You terrify me, doctor!"
"But in those days they were very ignorant! It is simply the
measles--what we doctors call _Boa_; a skin disease, very light in
children, unless they are not properly cared for--unless there is
imprudence. There is no danger of that in this case.--But how are you,
monsieur le comte?"
"I am doing well, and I wish that I might be allowed to rise."
"Wait a few more days. If your wound should reopen, you would be kept in
bed for a long, long time. Be reasonable, monsieur le comte; it is
really a miracle that you have recovered."
"Thanks, doctor; but henceforth give all your attention to the child."
The doctor went away, but Jarnonville soon came to stay with the count.
On this occasion he did not find him taciturn and pensive as usual. The
count asked him with much eagerness if he had seen his daughter,
questioned him about her condition, and told him what he had learned
from the doctor. And as the chevalier never tired of talking about
Blanche, those two men, whose aspect was sometimes so stern and
forbidding, passed a large part of the day talking about a child.
The next day, the doctor declared that his opinion was confirmed, and
that the child had the measles--a disease attended with no danger, if
not complicated by other circumstances.
Léodgard did not allow five minutes to pass without ringing and sending
servants to inquire for his daughter. He no longer hesitated to give her
that title when he spoke of her; and Jarnonville could not conceal his
joy when the count at last uttered that word.
On the third day, after inquiring for Blanche, he exclaimed:
"Oh! how fortunate her mother is! She is with her, she can see her, if
nothing more; and I--who had become so accustomed to seeing her every
day--how long the time seems to me now!"
On the following day, the servants' faces were more downcast, and
Jarnonville himself, although he said that the disease was following its
regular course, seemed more anxious, less cheerful, concerning Blanche's
safety.
After scrutinizing the faces of all those about him, Léodgard summoned a
valet and ordered him to help him to dress.
"What! you intend to rise?" cried Jarnonville; "that is most imprudent;
the doctor still forbids it."
"The doctor does not know how much I suffer from not seeing my daughter;
the sight of her will be more beneficial to me than all his
prescriptions. Moreover, to-day everyone seems to be more anxious about
Blanche's health, and I wish to satisfy myself with my own eyes
concerning her condition. You will give me your arm, chevalier, and take
me to my daughter."
The tone in which the count spoke showed that all objections would be
fruitless.
Enveloped in a voluminous robe de chambre, Léodgard took Jarnonville's
arm, and left his apartment at last, to go to the wing occupied by
Bathilde and her child.
But, despite all his resolution, the convalescent, whose legs shook and
wavered, could go only very slowly, and a servant hastened before him to
announce to the countess her husband's coming.
When she learned that Léodgard had insisted upon coming to see his
daughter, Bathilde could not restrain a joyful cry; and she lovingly
embraced the little invalid, saying to her:
"It is on your account that he comes, dear child, it is you who bring
him back to me!--Oh! I am well aware that it is not I whom he wishes to
see, but I shall not go away, for I never leave you; from the instant
that you are suffering, my place is with you! And your father must needs
endure my presence, if he wishes to have a share in nursing you."
As for Ambroisine, who also was beside the child's cradle, she went at
once into another room; for in that first interview between the husband
and wife a witness would have been in the way.
Slow and heavy steps announced the count's arrival. Bathilde seated
herself at some little distance from her daughter's cradle; but when
Léodgard entered the room, leaning on Jarnonville's arm, she could not
refrain from looking at him, and she was painfully impressed by the
tremendous change in his whole appearance. Considerably thinner than of
old, extremely pale, and with naught reminiscent of his large eyes save
a feverish and sombre fire, the Comte de Marvejols was no more than the
shadow of his former self. But in Bathilde's eyes he was still the man
whom she adored, the father of her child; and she was obliged to make a
mighty effort to keep from rushing to him and throwing herself into his
arms.
Léodgard simply bent his head to his wife. His eyes sought his
daughter's cradle, and when he espied it he dropped the chevalier's
arm, went forward alone, put aside the curtains that covered it, and sat
down beside it. Blanche was at the point of waking; her sweet face was
purple and swollen as a result of her disease; but she smiled when she
woke, and on recognizing Léodgard she cried:
"Oh! my friend! my friend! he not sick too! he come to see Blanche!"
The count leaned over the cradle and covered the child with kisses.
Bathilde turned her head away to hide her tears; but they were not
unpleasant, and she did not try to restrain them.
"Does the doctor still say that there is no danger?" asked Léodgard,
addressing Jarnonville; but he pretended not to hear, in order to compel
the count to address his wife.
Seeing that the chevalier persisted in not replying, Léodgard made up
his mind to turn to Bathilde; whereupon the young woman murmured,
without looking at her husband:
"My daughter has now reached the point where her disease is at its
height; but to-night, about midnight, the doctor says that the fever
should begin to abate; he has assured me that Blanche is in no danger."
"But this extreme redness----"
"Is characteristic of this fever. It worried me too, but the doctor
declares that it is better that it should be so.--But you, monsieur le
comte--I thought that you were not allowed to leave your bed yet; is it
not imprudent?"
"Your husband would not listen to reason, madame," said Jarnonville;
"his desire to see his daughter was stronger than any words of mine!"
Léodgard looked up at the chevalier and smiled slightly.
"Ah!" he murmured; "you seem to be talking now, Jarnonville!"
Then, turning again toward his daughter, he said:
"Little darling! I am terribly bored, being deprived of your
visits!--Get well very soon; but meanwhile it is my turn to come to see
you, and I will come."
"Every day?" whispered Blanche.
"Oh, yes! every day! Au revoir, my child, au revoir!"
And the count rose, bowed to Bathilde, took the chevalier's arm, and
returned to his apartment.
But the next day it was impossible for Léodgard to rise; the exertion of
the preceding day had reopened his wound. The doctor scolded him roundly
for his imprudence, and the count was fain to be content with hearing
from his daughter every instant of the day. Luckily, the reports were
excellent; the malady was abating, and the recovery would be rapid.
Blanche should be brought to him as soon as it could be done without
danger to her.
Four days more had elapsed, when, on waking one morning, Léodgard found
Blanche on his bed. He threw his arms about her and covered her with
kisses.
"Friend still sick?" asked the little girl, smiling at her father. But
he gazed fondly at her, saying:
"You must not say _friend_, dear love; after this, call me _father_--do
you understand?--father; for you are my daughter, and I am proud of
you.--Oh! why did I not know this happiness sooner--this inward
satisfaction which a man feels in pressing his child in his arms!--But I
did not believe in it until I possessed you. I was still blind, and I
denied the light!"
Joys of the heart are always the best remedy for all ills. As soon as he
saw his daughter once more, Léodgard rapidly improved; he was soon well
enough to rise and walk about his room; but to make him perfectly
comfortable, Blanche must be with him. He seemed to become more attached
to her every day. Albeit vastly surprised by the power which the child
exerted over his heart, he did not try to combat it; on the contrary, he
abandoned himself to it with delight, for he realized that the
unfamiliar sensation that he felt was the only one which causes us to
enjoy true happiness.
Sometimes, however, as he held his daughter on his knee, with his eyes
resting on her lovely eyes, Léodgard would suddenly become depressed and
thoughtful, and a livid pallor would overspread his features. Then,
putting Blanche on the floor, he would walk hurriedly away from her,
hiding his face in his hands, and muttering:
"Poor child! Suppose that some day she should learn--that somebody
should tell her that her father---- She would curse me, perhaps!--Oh!
the mere thought is terrible! it is my most cruel punishment!"
And Léodgard would remain as if crushed by his thoughts; but Blanche,
unable to understand why her father had suddenly turned his back on her,
would run to him and take his hand, saying in her sweet voice:
"Papa, don't you love Blanche any more?"
The little angel's tones very soon made their way to her father's heart,
and, like a ray of sunshine, dissipated the storm that had gathered
there.
XLIX
WOMAN CHANGES
"Woman's moods are light as air;
Foolish he who trusts the fair!"
After his duel with Léodgard, the Marquis de Santoval returned to his
hôtel and went at once to his wife, who was anxiously awaiting the
result of the meeting, which she herself had brought about, between the
count and her husband.
When the marquis appeared with a triumphant air, Valentine was conscious
of a thrill of horror which went to her heart.
"You are avenged, madame, completely avenged!" said Monsieur de
Santoval, as he saluted his wife.
"Ah! I was very anxious, monsieur!"
"I thank you for your anxiety. But with me you need have had no fear!"
"Did you--meet--the Comte de Marvejols?"
"Yes, madame; you may be sure that he would not fail to accept your
amiable invitation. One has not such a charming rendezvous every
evening!--And that fellow is so conceited! he could not fail to fall
into the trap!"
"And how did it come about?"
"As naturally as possible. The count was rather surprised to see me;
however, he tried to throw dust in my eyes. But as I was in haste to
have done, I told him frankly the whole truth."
"Ah! you told him----"
"That you had made a fool of him, that you were very glad to give him a
lesson, without which your vengeance would have been incomplete!--Ah! if
you knew how frantic the handsome seducer became at that!"
"I can well believe it, monsieur."
"We instantly drew our swords.--He fights well, but his anger blinded
him."
"And you wounded him?"
"Wounded him!--Oh! I did better than that--I killed him, madame. A
superb thrust, which ran him through. If he recovers, it will surprise
me greatly.--But what is the matter, madame? You turn pale!"
"Yes, monsieur; in truth, I do not feel well--the anxiety I have
suffered to-night, and---- But a night's rest will restore me. Be good
enough to send Miretta here."
"On the instant.--Really, I am deeply touched by your interest in me;
but, as you see, I did not receive the slightest scratch."
"Yes, monsieur, yes; that sets my mind at rest. And--that unhappy
man--whom you killed--what has become of him?"
"Whatever God wills should become of him.--For myself, my dear love, you
will understand that the best thing for me to do was to come away at
once! The law concerning duels is very severe!--But Joseph alone was our
witness, and I am sure of that fellow's fidelity.--Come, marchioness, be
reassured; take some rest; no more anxiety. I will send Miretta to you."
The marquis left the room. Valentine sat perfectly still, as if she were
overwhelmed. Her brow was blanched, her eyes shone with a sombre fire;
it was evident that a cruel thought absorbed all her senses. It was in
this condition that Miretta found her when she entered the room.
"Did madame send for me? Madame seems to be suffering," said the girl,
as she observed her mistress. "But monsieur le marquis has returned--so
that he must have been the victor, and madame is avenged!"
Valentine raised her head and flashed a terrible glance at her
confidante, crying:
"Avenged! unhappy girl! Why, do you not know that I am a miserable,
infamous wretch?--For that man has killed him! He has killed him! and I
am the cause of it; it was I who gave him that assignation, who laid the
snare for Léodgard, by making him believe that I loved him!--Yes, I did
love him! I did not lie! I tried to deceive myself concerning my
feelings; I tried to delude myself. I told myself that he had disdained
me, that I should wreak vengeance upon him for his scorn. I told myself
that! But in the bottom of my heart I always loved him. I wanted to see
him at my feet, to hear him make sweet protestations of love. I saw him
there, and I caused his death! I killed him!--Oh! I have a horror of
myself! I am unworthy of pity! And I would give my life now to undo the
evil I have done!"
Miretta seemed more surprised than moved by her mistress's despair. She
contented herself with saying:
"So monsieur le marquis killed his opponent?"
"Yes; at least, he thinks so.--Ah! if, however---- Miretta, you are
brave--you must go out, hasten to Place Royale, near Rue des
Tournelles,--the place where I promised to meet him. Look carefully. If
Léodgard is still there, ascertain whether he is breathing, and, in that
case, knock at some shop door and implore help, and see that the count
is taken to his house in Rue de Bretonvilliers.--See, here is money; do
not spare it. With money one can always find people ready to do one's
bidding.--Go, Miretta; you can go out when you choose now; the marquis
has the most perfect confidence in you.--Go; find Léodgard, and do not
leave him until you have stationed a doctor by his side.--And then
return--return! I shall count the minutes."
Miretta did not seem overjoyed by the mission which was intrusted to
her; but, being entirely devoted to her mistress, she did not murmur,
and made haste to obey. Moreover, when she went out at night, a secret
hope always awoke in the depths of the girl's heart, and would have
given her courage if she had lacked it.
Miretta looked in vain for Léodgard on Place Royale; we know that the
wounded man was no longer there. But a great pool of blood, in which her
foot slipped, satisfied her that she had found the spot where the duel
had taken place. Seeing no light anywhere, and having no hope of
obtaining information at midnight, she returned to the Hôtel de
Santoval, walking slowly, however, with her ears strained to detect the
faintest sound, stopping from time to time when she thought that she
heard footsteps, and entirely oblivious of the commission her mistress
had given her.
Valentine meanwhile impatiently awaited her maid's return. She appeared
at last, and informed the marchioness that the Comte de Marvejols was no
longer on Place Royale.
"Some charitable person must have taken care of him," said Valentine;
"and if he was able to speak, he has probably been taken to his own
house. At daybreak, Miretta, you will hasten to Rue de Bretonvilliers,
enter the count's house, ascertain whether he has been taken there, and
inquire concerning his condition. At daybreak, do you understand?"
"I will obey you, madame."
And the next morning, almost before there was light enough to see,
Miretta set about executing the orders she had received. But at the
house in Rue de Bretonvilliers the count had not been seen since the
preceding day, and no one knew what had become of him.
Valentine's torment increased with the ill success of the investigations
which she caused to be made.
"But certainly that unfortunate man's body cannot have disappeared
without having given rise to some talk!" cried the marchioness. "He was
left for dead by his adversary on Place Royale, and that is where he
must have been found. Go there again, Miretta, pass the whole day there
if necessary; but do not return without bringing me some news of
Léodgard."
Once more Miretta obeyed her mistress's orders; and after passing a
large part of the day on Place Royale, she was about to return to the
Hôtel de Santoval, when she happened to meet Ambroisine, to whose house
she had not been for a very long time, but for whom she still cherished
profound gratitude.
The two girls greeted each other with a smile, and the bath keeper's
daughter said to Miretta:
"What has become of you, pray? I never see you!"
"I am still in the service of Mademoiselle Valentine, who is now
Marquise de Santoval; and you?"
"I come almost every day to see my friend Bathilde, who is now Comtesse
de Marvejols."
"Ah, yes! I remember; I have heard of that marriage."
"It is a most extraordinary story. But I have no time to talk at this
moment. If you knew--last evening, the Sire de Jarnonville and I found
Monsieur le Comte Léodgard lying on the ground yonder, under the arcade,
bathed in his own blood; I ran to the house--which is close by--and they
took the wounded man there.--He is very ill; however, there is still
some hope perhaps.--Adieu! adieu! I must go back to Bathilde!"
Miretta had learned all that she wished to know, and she hastened to
make her report to her mistress.
On learning that Léodgard was in the house occupied by his wife,
Valentine had almost a paroxysm of rage; at last she fell exhausted on a
chair, saying:
"With his wife! he is with her now! And this is what all my projects of
revenge have resulted in--uniting him to this Bathilde! bringing about a
reconciliation between them, perhaps! Oh, no! no! I will poison that
woman's happiness.--Ah! I should regret it less now if Léodgard should
die of his wound!"
But the marchioness's hopes were not gratified; we know that the count
did not die of the sword thrust administered by the Marquis de Santoval.
When Valentine was once informed of the place where Léodgard was, she
easily succeeded in obtaining news of him; and almost every day she
sent Miretta to inquire in the neighborhood of the Hôtel de Marvejols
concerning his condition. The servants, as they went in and out, never
failed to give their neighbors news of their master, whom they believed
to have been attacked on the street by brigands. So that Valentine knew
that he was convalescent, and that he would soon be able to go out. She
awaited that moment with impatience.
But the days passed, and Léodgard did not leave the Hôtel de Marvejols.
"He must be well content to be with his wife!" thought Valentine, far
from suspecting that it was a child who detained Léodgard under the same
roof with Bathilde. "I will wait no longer! for if I do, it will perhaps
be too late to tear the count away from this new life."
The marchioness summoned Miretta and said to her:
"Léodgard is now cured, entirely recovered from his wound, I know; and
yet he still remains with this Bathilde. But something tells me that I
still have some power over the count's heart, and that a word from me
would suffice to bring him back to my feet."
"What, madame! do you propose----"
"Hush, Miretta; you cannot understand what is taking place in my heart.
I have but one thought now: to give myself to Léodgard, and to leave
this Marquis de Santoval, whose mere presence is horrible to me.--Not a
word! Do not try to combat my resolution--it is not to be shaken. Would
not you have suffered everything, defied every danger, for your
Giovanni? Would you not, to obey only him, have disobeyed the whole
world?"
"Oh, yes! I would have done all that for Giovanni, madame; and I am
ready to do it still!"
"Be not surprised to find in another woman a sentiment at least as
imperious as that which you yourself know!"
"Ah! madame, I never would have sent Giovanni to fight with another
man!"
"Poor fool! do you know what you would have done if you had seen your
lover desert you for a rival?--But let us talk no more of the past! It
is for the purpose of atoning for it that I wish to send a message to
Léodgard. I wish it to be placed in his own hands. You cannot take
charge of it, because you are known to that bath keeper's daughter, the
noble countess's close friend; she would insist upon taking the letter,
she might inform her friend, and then they would divine from whom you
came."
"Oh, yes, madame! for I told her that I was still with you; and if
monsieur le comte has admitted having fought a duel with monsieur le
marquis, they would think, if I should carry a letter there, that
another duel was in contemplation, and they would be quite capable of
not giving it to the count."
"That is why I do not wish to intrust it to you. The little solicitor's
clerk will do the errand perfectly. Go, Miretta, and find him. But he
cannot come again to this house, where he was beaten. Make an
appointment with him in some solitary, out-of-the-way place, and I will
meet him there. Thank heaven! Monsieur de Santoval has ceased to be
jealous since that duel. He leaves me entirely free. Go, then, find this
Bahuchet, promise him money, much money; I know that he is not to be
relied on without that."
Miretta lost no time in going to Maître Bourdinard's office; she knew
the way very well.
But when she entered the dirty, smoke-begrimed room where Bahuchet and
his friend usually sat, she was surprised to find new faces in the
places of those which she was accustomed to see there.
"What do you wish, young woman?" asked an old fellow as yellow as
parchment, as he saw the girl gazing around the room.
"I wish to see Monsieur Bahuchet."
"Master Bahuchet is not here."
"Oh! he has gone out; at what hour will he return, if you please?"
"He won't return at all, thank God! I say that he is not here, which
means that Maître Bourdinard has dismissed him, discharged him, kicked
him out, in short; and he well deserved it!"
"Oho!--But he had a friend, whom I do not see here!"
"Oh, yes! his friend Plumard; another fine subject--a worthy pendant to
Bahuchet! Those fellows fought all day long, but they became reconciled
at night in order to raise the devil all over the city. But when one of
the master's clients, a certain Chevalier de Passedix, came here and
told him the story of an orange-colored costume that those two scamps
sold him, Maître Bourdinard's eyes were opened, and he turned the two
little clerks out of doors--Plumard with Bahuchet, supporting each
other!"
"In that case, monsieur, please give me this Monsieur Bahuchet's
address, so that I may know where to find him; I must speak with him."
"His address, young woman--the address of a Bahuchet! Do you suppose
such gentry have an address? Do they live anywhere? In wine shops and
gambling hells and bawdy houses--that's where they live! But, frankly, I
don't advise you to go there to look for him; and if the fellow owes you
money, you will do well to make a cross on it."
Unable to obtain any information concerning him she sought, Miretta
returned to report to her mistress the unsatisfactory result of her
visit to the solicitor's office.
"More delay!" muttered Valentine, smiling bitterly; "one would say that
destiny takes pleasure in multiplying obstacles to retard what I wish to
do! But nothing will tire out my perseverance.--Miretta, you must find
this Bahuchet; the fellow can have no reason for hiding, for he must now
be in quest of another place. Search Paris for him; disguise yourself,
if necessary; conceal your pretty face beneath an ample cap, and go to
those dens which Monsieur Bahuchet frequents.--Who knows? while looking
for him, perhaps you will find someone in whom you are interested."
Miretta shook her head, as if to say that she had ceased to hope; but
she prepared, none the less, to obey the marchioness.
L
THE APPLE-GREEN CHEVALIER