On the fifteenth of September the girls had to tear themselves away
from their quiet retreat at Belle-Isle, and leave Penhouet and all
else to travel with Mlle. Frahender, Jean and Maurice to the Château
de Montjoie. When they arrived there, at ten in the evening, Esperance
recognised the Duke in the distance as soon as the carriage stopped.
He was looking out of one of the great windows above the terrace. He
was, in fact, awaiting the coming of Esperance. But he pretended not
to have seen the carriage and continued to gaze up at the stars.
Esperance trembled and her lips were icy cold. Albert had also seen
the Duke, and was not deceived by his attitude. He had resolved to be
calm, but a sullen, unbidden anger arose within him.
When the housekeeper had installed the two girls in a tower of the
Château, she left with them a little Breton peasant girl.
"She will be devoted to your service," she said. "Her name is
Jeanette. Her room is above yours and, when you ring this bell, she
will wait upon you at once."
Esperance threw herself on her bed, still dressed, for her heart was
overflowing.
"Ah! why, why is Albert so trusting? Why did he let me come here?
Would it not have been better to have run the risk of offending the
Duchess?"
And when Genevieve tried to reason with her, "I am suffering, little
sister," she replied, "I am so unhappy; for the sight of the Duke at
the window distressed me. I tremble at the idea of seeing him again,
and yet I long for the time when I can give him my hand."
"But this is serious," said Genevieve. "I thought you had recovered
from all that nonsense, or rather, I thought you would be less
affected."
She helped Esperance to undress. The poor child let her do so without
a word.
She slept badly, haunted by dreams and troubled with nightmare. At six
o'clock in the morning she woke up feverishly, and rang for the maid.
The little Breton appeared five minutes later, her eyes still full of
sleep, her cap crooked.
"Will you get me a little warm water?" asked Esperance. "It is cold
from the tap."
"It is too early, I am afraid. Mademoiselle must please to wait a
little."
"Well, be as quick as you can, please. I want to go for a walk in the
park while there is no one about."
The little Breton laughed. "You won't run any danger of finding anyone
at this hour. What will the ladies take for breakfast?"
"Two cups of chocolate, please," said Genevieve, beginning to get up.
"Be so good as to make haste, Jeanette, get us our hot water and our
chocolate, like a good girl and say nothing to anyone."
Jeanette looked in the mirror, adjusted her cap, put back a stray lock
of hair, and opened the door. But she stopped, looking at the girls
craftily.
"Which way were you going, Mademoiselle?"
"That all depends. Which way is the prettiest?"
"When you leave the Château you must turn to your right and walk to
the first thicket. About ten minutes through the thicket and you will
come out on the big terrace. That is where they always take the guests
and say how beautiful it is!"
"Thank you," said Genevieve, "to the right, then the thicket and the
terrace. We aren't likely to meet anyone?"
"Nobody is abroad but the cats at this hour, and...."
Outside the door she made a face like a mischievous child who had just
played a trick. Running rapidly across the long corridors, she mounted
to the second storey, opened an ante-chamber which led to another room
and knocked lightly. The Duke opened the door.
"You here, Jeanette! What is it?"
"My godfather," she said very low, "the young ladies are getting up
now, and I think they are going to walk in the grove to the right of
the Château."
"They are going ... alone?"
"Certainly. No one else is awake, but they may be going to meet their
lovers."
"Why did you come to tell me yourself, instead of sending my man?"
"Because he is a lazy fellow who would have taken an hour to dress and
then would have told a lie and said I told him too late."
"Very well, run along now, and don't get caught."
So Jeanette sped quickly towards the kitchen to get the hot water in a
great copper can, which she half emptied on the way to ease the
weight.
As soon as they were dressed, Esperance and Genevieve made quick work
of their chocolate, and started out. It was very still.
"It is the Sleeping Beauty's wood," said Esperance.
They went towards the grove they saw on their right. At the entrance
to it Esperance closed her parasol and stopped suddenly, pressing
Genevieve's hand.
"Some one has been here already."
They both stopped motionless, listening. Not a sound. They slowly
continued on their way, but the thicket did not lead to the terrace,
and ended in a little enclosed dell. On a pedestal a figure of _Love
in Chains_ overlooked a stone bench.
"We have lost our way," said Genevieve. "Let us go back."
"No it is charming here. Let us go on to the bench. I am a little
tired and my heart is beating so.... What was that?"
She put her companion's hand above her heart.
"Why what is the matter with you. Why are you so nervous?"
"Ah!" replied Esperance, with great apprehension of she knew not what,
"I feel as if I could not struggle.... The presence in this house of
the Duke de Morlay overcomes me. I don't know whether that is love;
but at least it tells me that I do not love Albert. Come dear, let us
rest a moment."
Just then a man stepped out from the thicket and barred their way.
The Duke stood before them.
Esperance uttered one cry and fell in a faint.
The Duke started forward to catch her, but Genevieve repulsed him.
"It is a cowardly trick you have played on us, sir. I understand now
that we did not lose our way but were duped by your orders."
As she spoke, she was trying to support Esperance, but almost falling
herself under the weight of the inert body. She cried at her own
impotence, but she was obliged to accept the Duke's help to get
Esperance as far as the marble bench.
"Try," she said holding out Esperance's tiny handkerchief, "to get me
a little water."
"Instantly, Mademoiselle ... there is a fountain near at hand."
When he came back Genevieve moistened the poor child's temples. The
Duke was very pale.
"Mademoiselle, believe me that I am greatly upset at what has
happened. I had no idea...!"
"I shall be very glad to excuse you. Esperance looks a little better,
had you not better go away?"
"But I cannot leave you all alone like this."
He took Esperance's hand, and it seemed to him that warmth came back
into it.
Esperance opened her eyes. Still half unconscious, she looked at him
curiously, then she cried sharply out, "Have mercy, go away, go away!"
And she gave way to hysterical sobs.
The Duke said humbly, "I will leave you."
And then kneeling before her, "Forgive me, I am going; I am leaving
you ... but I entreat you to forgive me."
He was sincere in what he said. Both girls felt it.
Esperance had risen gently.
"I am betrothed to Count Styvens," she said. "You know that. I know
that my emotion just now was foolish, but I am sick at heart and I am
not always able to control myself. You are good, I see that. Please
help me to cure myself. I will be grateful to you all my life."
"I give you my word...." his voice trembled. "I will make myself...."
and he went away.
As soon as they were left alone the two girls took counsel as to what
course they should pursue. Esperance, in despair, threw herself on
Genevieve's judgment, and Genevieve asked permission to consult
Maurice.
"Could we not keep it as a secret?"
"I am afraid, darling, that that would not be right. We are sure of
Maurice's discretion, and we need advice as well as help."
Esperance looked at her companion.
"How could the Duke have known? Oh! I suppose the little Breton girl
who waits on us was the culprit. We must get rid of her. We have only
three days to spend here, and then, too, I am sure that the Duke will
keep his word. I was struck by his pallor, and his eyes when he looked
at you were full of tears, but I believe he was sincere; there is less
to fear from staying than fleeing perhaps, since we know that. Let us
go back."
She helped her dear little friend to get up and they returned to the
house as they had come. Mademoiselle Frahender was just coming out to
look for them.
"Here we are, little lady, don't scold," said Esperance playfully.
The little old lady shook her head chidingly.
"You do not look well, my child. You are up too early. Six o'clock,
that pert little Breton told me, when I found her fumbling in our
trunks. When I told her that I was going to complain of her she said,
'Oh! don't do that, Madame, my godfather, the Duke de Morlay, would
never forgive me!"
The girls looked at each other.
"I promise to say nothing, but you must watch her carefully."
They were just going in when Maurice joined them, out of breath.
"Hello! cousin. Where do you spring from?"
"I have been looking for you for half an hour to give you the
programme, edited by Jean and enlivened by your humble servant. Here
you are, and here you are, naughty lady, who gives no word of warning
to her lover of early morning escapades."
"Oh! Maurice, it was I who led Genevieve astray, and I am doubly
repentant. She will tell you why."
Maurice grew serious.
"What means that haggard face, cousin, and the collar of your dress is
all wet? Come, come, Genevieve herself seems ill at ease. I would like
to know what you two have been up to."
"Well! take her into that grove, you will find a bench there, and she
will tell you all about it. I am going to rest," replied Esperance.
Genevieve and Maurice sat down in the grove. After she had told him
what had happened, she added, "What seems to me to make it really
serious is that I believe the Duke to be in earnest."
"Love and flirtation often look alike," said the young man shrugging
his shoulders.
"I don't think so," said the girl with conviction, and continued
sadly, "Esperance is fighting against this infatuation with all her
strength, but I am very uneasy. And if the Duke should love her enough
to offer to marry her!"
"You think that likely?"
"What can resist love? Tell me that."
And her beautiful eyes, swimming with tears, looked anxiously,
trustingly into the young man's face.
"I tell you what I truly believe. And that is, that Esperance loves
the Duke."
The young painter meditated for a long time.
"Come on, we must go back," he said finally. "We must get ready for
the rehearsal." He left the girl with exhortations to reason with his
cousin.
"What the deuce is our will for if we can't exercise it?"
"Maurice, I am brave and determined, you know that. My sister and I
have struggled unaided, she since she was thirteen! I since I was
eight. I thought that she was enough to fill all my life, and now...."
"And now," he asked tenderly, taking her hand.
"All my life is yours! I should not tell you this, but you can judge
by my doing so the impotence of will against...."
She drew away her hand hastily, ran to the staircase and disappeared.
He heard the door open and his cousin's voice saying, "How pale you
are, Genevieve!"
"What are you dreaming about, Cousin Maurice?" said Albert, putting
his hand gently on his shoulder.
That hand felt to Maurice as heavy as remorse.
"Let us go and see what is going on," said the young painter. "There
is Jean coming to look for us now."