I returned to my hotel vexed and irritated beyond measure by my
passage at arms with Lady Henriette Standish, and hating the prospect
of any further dealings with her. I very cordially echoed her repeated
cry for Lady Claire. Matters would have been very different had her
strong-minded sister been on the spot to use her influence and help us
with her counsel. What a contrast between the two women! I was more
and more drawn to the one, and more and more heartily despised the
other.
With my mind full of the beautiful creature who had made me a willing
captive to her charms, her gracious presence was recalled to me by a
message from under her own hand. As I passed the threshold of my
hotel, the hall porter gave me a telegram from Lady Claire. It had
come via London, but the office of origin was Marseilles.
"Reached so far, yesterday," it said. "One of them turned up
this morning--have no fear--exchange not effected--shall
remain here for the present--Hotel Terminus.
"CLAIRE."
I read and re-read this passage with a delightful feeling that it
brought me into touch with my love, and I may be permitted for seeing
in it clear proof of her bright wit and intelligence. She told me just
exactly all that it was essential to know: of the pursuit, of the
absence of pressing danger, of the abortive attempt to exchange
babies, and where she was to be found. Suppose that I had not met Lady
Henriette, I was fully prepared for anything that might occur.
It was now barely 10 A.M., and the time intervening before
the departure of the eastward bound express (three and a half hours)
was none too much to carry out my intentions as to Lady Henriette.
I first of all ordered a covered landau to be harnessed as speedily as
possible, and to be sent to await me in a side street near the Hôtel
Modena; then I summoned l'Echelle and bade him make all ready for the
journey. I also told him that I should be busily engaged that
forenoon; but that as I might be obliged to run it very close for the
train, he was to make all preparations, to take the tickets, and await
me on the platform. I had debated anxiously with myself how far I
should betray the presence of Lady Henriette in Aix to l'Echelle, and
decided that, although I had no particular reason to doubt him, I felt
that it would be more prudent to keep the fact to myself. For the same
reason I kept him busily engaged in my bedroom packing, lest he should
spy upon my movements. There was still the fear that Falfani might be
on the watch, but I had been assured by l'Echelle that the Blackadder
party were so satisfied by the news he gave them that they left the
business of shadowing almost entirely to him.
I was pretty sure that I reached the Hôtel Modena unobserved. I came
upon the carriage by the way, and as I passed briefly desired the
driver to follow me to the Hôtel Modena. Arriving there, I sent up my
name, and followed it, a little unceremoniously, to Lady Henriette's
sitting-room.
She was there, dressed in hat and jacket, and so far disposed to
comply with my wishes. Her maid, Victorine, was with her, the baby on
her knee. Her baggage, happily light enough, was there, packed and all
ready for a start.
But if I thought that Lady Henriette meant to yield without another
skirmish I was sadly mistaken. I was in for much more than a skirmish;
it was to be a battle royal.
"The carriage is at the door," I said as pleasantly as possible. "We
have nearly an hour's drive before us, and I am delighted to think
that you are ready and willing to go with me."
"I am ready, as you see, but not willing," she answered, bridling up
with a scornful air. "Very much the reverse indeed. The more I think
over it the more outrageous and preposterous your behaviour seems.
Where are we going? I insist upon knowing. I must have a plain
categorical answer or I will not move an inch." Her dogged, determined
air was belied by her dress and the obvious preparations already made
for departure. Her present attitude I set down to the vacillation of
her character. She might make up her mind one moment and one way, and
yet be quite prepared to change it the next.
"You are fully entitled to know where you are going, and I have not
the smallest desire to keep it from you," I replied, still speaking in
a smooth, courteous voice. "I propose that you should take up your
residence for a time--the very shortest time possible--at Le Bourget,
a small place at the head of the lake. You may know it; there is a
snug little hotel in the village, the Dent du Chat. You will like it."
"I shall not like it. I dislike the whole idea exceedingly. Why should
I be buried alive in such an out-of-the-way spot?"
"It will be no worse than Fuentellato, a place you chose for
yourself."
"I have a house of my own there--my own servants. It is perfectly
safe."
"Not now, believe me, they will come upon you there; trace you easily
and quickly, and they are capable of any violence to capture and
deprive you of your treasure." I pointed to the child on the maid's
knee.
"I shall be more at their mercy here in Aix."
"Be guided by me. I am certain of what I say. All will be well if you
will only keep out of the way now for a few hours, perhaps at most a
couple of days. If they do not find you at once they will never find
you. Only let me have a short start ahead and I'll lead them a pretty
dance, and take them further and further away. You may rely on it, and
I assure you they will never be able to find you or do you any harm."
"I wish I could believe you," she said. "If I could only believe in
you and trust you as Claire does," she murmured pathetically, still
tortured by doubt. "Why has Claire deserted me? If she were only here,
or I knew where to find her!"
I was on the point of imparting my last news, but I checked myself.
Lady Henriette had seen her last, and must be well aware of the
direction she was taking to Lyons and Marseilles. It would only
unsettle her to know that her sister was at Marseilles to-day, and
would be at Genoa to-morrow. She would be mad to join her, and it was
my most earnest wish that, for the present at least, Lady Henriette
should keep quiet in the background with her charge.
"You will soon be able to communicate with her, no doubt. Of course
you arranged that at Culoz?"
"We arranged nothing. It was all so hurried, and we had much to talk
about. She was so hard on me when I declared I could not part with my
blessed boy. We had words--"
"Ah!" I had heard enough to know that there had been a strong
difference of opinion, a sharp quarrel probably, and that Lady Claire
had not spared her sister at this fresh exhibition of ridiculous
weakness.
"May I ask, please, whether you were to believe in me or not?" I
resumed, taking up the discussion where I had left it. "We must be
moving if we are to go at all."
Her acquiescence, now tardily given, was surly and ungracious.
"I suppose I cannot help myself; I am quite at your mercy. You may be
sure I shall not easily forget this, or forgive your overbearing
treatment. I will go, but under protest."
She led the way herself and entered the carriage first, motioning to
Victorine to hand her the baby and take her seat inside. She made no
such sign to me, although I followed close behind. But I also got in
without invitation, only explaining that it might not be wise to show
myself on the box.
The coachman had his orders, and he drove off briskly along the
Marlioz road till he reached the turning towards the head of the
lake. In less than an hour we pulled up before the Hôtel Dent du
Chat, a simple, unpretending hostelry, to which I had telegraphed in
advance, stating my needs. We were received with profuse civility, the
best of everything placed at our disposal, a best at which Lady
Henriette, as I might have expected, turned up her nose, sniffing and
scornful.
She uttered no complaint, she would not address a word to me; her air
was one of lofty, contemptuous reserve; she intimated plainly that we
were "dead cuts."
Only at the last, just as I was driving away and lifted my hat in
farewell, she yielded to an impulse of despair, and seized my arm in
almost frenzied appeal.
"You must not, you cannot desert me; I will not be left like this. No
man, no gentleman would do it. I beg and implore you to remain within
reach, somewhere near at any rate. I can never face this place alone."
Her last appeal touched me to the quick. Once more I sought to explain
the dire necessity for this act that seemed so barbarous, but she was
deaf to all my arguments, and still clung to me nervously as I climbed
into the carriage.
When at length I got away, and I persisted in leaving, being so fully
satisfied it was for the best, her piteous, reproachful accents still
rung in my ears, and I shall count that return drive to Aix as the
most miserable hour I have passed in my life.
The whole episode had occupied much time, and it was already past one
when I reëntered the town. I drove straight to the railway station,
and was met outside it by the faithful l'Echelle.
"Monsieur, monsieur, will you believe it? They have gone half an hour
ago, and not by the eastern but the western express."
"You saw them?"
"I spoke to them. Falfani himself told me of the change in their
plans. The latest news from their man in the south was so positive,
and has so convinced my lord, that he is hastening full speed to join
Tiler, and they are only too delighted to leave you behind."
I laughed aloud with intense satisfaction.
"You do not mind, monsieur? You have no reason to fear them?"
"Not the least in the world, they are playing into my hands. I, too,
have changed my plans. I shall now remain in Aix for some time
longer. I shall be glad to go on with the baths."
But I was thinking really of that poor creature I had abandoned at Le
Bourget, and overjoyed to think that I might now meet her wishes, and
perchance regain something of her good-will.
Once more I took the road to Le Bourget, driving over by the first
_fiacre_ I could pick up on the stand, a much slower journey than the
first, and it was nearly 3 P.M. when I reached the little
hotel.
It was indeed a day of surprises, of strange emotions and moving
incidents.
When I alighted and asked for "Mrs. Blair," I was answered abruptly
that she was gone.
"Gone? When? How?" I cried, in utter amazement.
"Madame went very soon after monsieur," said the _patronne_, in high
dudgeon. "She was not complimentary, she said this place was too
_triste_, that it got on her nerves. She called me up and said I was
to bring her the _Indicateur_. Then she must have a carriage as soon
as it could be prepared to drive her to Culoz, fifteen miles away,
meaning to take the train from there."
"Not to Aix?"
"Assuredly not, for when I suggested that she could more easily find
the train there she told me to hold my tongue, that she knew very well
what she was about, and wanted no observations from me."
To Culoz? She was bound then to follow her sister, I felt sure of it;
and I was aghast, foreshadowing the new dangers opening before her.