ROMANCE
The moist, salt-laden breeze fanned their hot faces gratefully. The
musical tap-tap of the waves against the side of the ship came to them as
from a great distance, and even the voices and laughter of the passengers
seemed, somehow, strangely remote.
The stranger brought his gaze back to them with an effort, as he said,
wearily, "Monsieur, I am tired--you cannot know how much. But I had not
meant to bore you with my so selfish perplexities----"
"Sometimes to tell our troubles is half the cure," Mrs. Payton suggested,
gently.
"You are very--good," murmured the stranger, gratefully. "If you are sure
it will not tire----"
Then at their vigorous denials, he proceeded, in his low, even voice:
"Sometimes I have felt the great necessity of telling all to some
one--some one who would understand. If I did not, I felt I should go
mad." He passed his hand over his eyes with an infinitely weary gesture.
"You see, my father and I, we had long been estranged. Not even in my
earliest childhood have I the memory of a gentle word, a fatherly
pressure of the hand. So I grew to young manhood with no knowledge of a
mother's or father's love--for my mother," here his voice lowered,
reverently, "died when I was born. My childhood was of the utmost
loneliness, for my father thought the children with whom I wished to
associate were too far beneath me in social station. My sole companion
was the old dame who took care of the house--the one person in the world
of whom my father seemed to have fear. So the miserable years dragged by.
When I had just begun to make some plans by which I might escape from
this dungeon they so falsely called my home--just at the time I was most
despairing--like a joyful, radiant rift of sunlight in a clouded sky,
came--my Jeanette. Oh, if you could but see her!"
Under cover of the dark the girls' hands sought and clasped convulsively,
but no one spoke.
"I cannot attempt to describe one so gay, so beautiful, so lovely. She
seemed like a spirit from another world--a far dearer, happier world than
I had ever thought to exist. Ah, how I loved her, and she--ah, she loved
me, and for a while we were, oh, Monsieur, so divinely, so unthinkably
happy----" His voice broke and again his gaze wandered dreamily out into
the night.
"And who was the girl?" Lucile prompted, eagerly.
"Ah, Mademoiselle, that was the rock upon which all our dreams were
wrecked. My father would but reply sourly to any question I might venture
that my fair Jeanette was the ward of a friend who, on his death-bed, had
bequeathed her to his clemency--the fool!"
"As for my Jeanette herself, she told me all she knew about herself,
which, in fact, was little enough. She had lived with her guardian and
his faithful old servant for ever since she could remember, and had been
very happy. The chateau where she lived was a pretty, open place, with
gardens all about and beautiful woods on either side, where one could
roam for hours, becoming acquainted with the little folk of the
wood--this my little Jeanette did, not feeling the need of human
companionship as had I. When, upon rare occasions, she had questioned her
guardian as to the identity of her parents, he had answered with a most
strange reticence that she must not bother her head about such matters,
but to wait till she was twenty-one, when she would know all. Naturally,
the child believed and did as she was bid, but the maiden wondered and
began to brood in secret. In time she began to form great plans wherein
she might discover her identity, and perhaps, who knows, she might find
herself to be a duke's daughter--such things happened with the utmost
frequency in the books which she read.
"So spoke my little Jeanette, and I encouraged her in this fancy and
became, if anything, more eager than herself to solve the mystery of her
parentage.
"So the days and weeks fled by so happy, till once again those plans
began to take form and shape that had so long laid dormant after the
arrival of Jeanette. The voice of my manhood urged me insistently to
throw off the fetters that bound me and advance bravely into the seething
world of men and from it wrest the so well-earned fruit of my
endeavor--for I was ambitious and rebelled at being shut within four
walls, where each detail of my life was arranged for me as if I had still
been a child.
"Yet I liked little the thought of leaving my sweet Jeanette alone in
that gloomy house. But, on the other hand, how could I aspire to help if
I remained at home?"
"That night Jeanette and I talked long--ah, I shall never forget it!--and
it was then she urged, with tears of earnestness in her dear eyes, not to
think of her, but to do as I judged best. I have seen her as she looked
that night so many, many weary days!"
Here there was a long pause in the narrative, and it was not till Mr.
Payton prompted, softly, "And then----"
"Well, then, Monsieur, events flowed along easily enough till it was
about a week to the time we had set for my departure. Then, one night, I
came upon Jeanette suddenly and, to my great alarm and dismay, I
discovered her in tears.
"'Jeanne!' I cried. 'My little Jeanne, tell me what is wrong!'
"But she would not answer me, only sobbing out in a way that broke my
heart that 'I must go away, and never, never see her again!'
"Then it was, while I was still stunned and stupefied by the change in
her, that a servant brought me a message from my father. He wished to see
me on the instant.
"I made one last, agonized appeal to Jeanette, but she kept her face
averted and answered me nothing, and I, stricken, bewildered, hardly
knowing what I did, followed the servant to my father's rooms.
"I found him pacing the room with an angry scowl upon his face and an air
that augured ill for me. Far from being taken aback, I welcomed this
attitude of my father. I felt, somehow, that he was to blame for the
tears of my Jeanette. I could have fallen upon him, doing him bodily
injury, so great and terrible was my anger. With an effort, I conquered
this first mad impulse and waited, with hands so tightly clenched that
the nails bit deep into the flesh.
"I had not long to wait. At the sound of the opening door my father
whirled and, with an imperious gesture, ordered the servant to retire.
When the door was closed behind the man, my father burst out, furiously,
'So you have been deceiving me, lying to me in my own house. You need not
start and look surprised, for what I have not seen with my own eyes has
been faithfully retailed to me through one I can trust.'
"I fear I must have appeared stupid, for suddenly my brain refused to act
naturally. How was it for my father to find out this--my so great secret?
Surely, I had taken every precaution. But my father's voice broke in
rudely upon my bewilderment.
"'Have you nothing to say?' said he, furiously. 'Must you stand there
like a dog, a monkey, a piece of wood, and make no attempt to defend
yourself? Ah, to have reared such a son?'
"Suddenly, in a flash, came my wits again. In an instant I had drawn
myself to my full height and stood regarding calmly my enraged father.
Ah, that I have not one kind thought--one gentle memory----" Again the
stranger paused, and the girls felt the undernote of tragedy in his
voice. Instinctively, Lucile glanced at her own father where he sat,
knees crossed, cigar in hand, listening attentively, and her heart gave a
great, warm throb as she whispered, "Dear old Dad!"
"Well," said the Frenchman, with a shrug of his shoulders, "there is not
much more to tell, though it may mean the wrecking of two lives, mine and
that of Jeanette. My father and I had many words, calm on my part,
enraged on his, and during the interview I learned that our great secret
had been discovered by that old witch, the housekeeper, the week before,
when Jeanette and I had had our never-to-be-forgotten conversation. For
some unknown reason she had kept the discovery to herself till the day
before.
"'So you meant to marry Jeanette?' my father flung at me.
"'Oui, Monsieur, mon pere,' I answered, still calmly, 'and if Jeanette
will do me the great honor to become my wife, I have not in the least
altered my determination.'
"'Ah!' cried my father, stung by my calm. 'But she will not have
you--Jeanette. She has too much pride!'
"'What do you mean?' I cried, shaken out of my composure for the first
time. 'Explain quickly; my patience is almost at an end.'
"'Ah, if that is all, my impatient son,' said my father, lowering his
voice, craftily, 'you will soon know far too much for your peace of
mind!'
"'Explain!' I cried, my wrath rising to fever heat. I towered above him,
white with rage, and he, seeming to realize for the first time I was no
longer a child, retreated nervously.
"'You have often asked about the parents of Jeanette, and now I think it
is but right you should know all.'
"'Ah!' I cried, joyfully. 'At last!'
"'But there is little cause for rejoicing,' said my father, lowering his
voice till it was scarce above a whisper. 'What would you say, my son, if
I were to tell you that the father of your fair Jeanette was--a _thief_?'
Ah, the evilness of that smile! How I hated him at that moment!
"'Sir,' said I, 'no such statement will I give belief till it has been
proven to me beyond all doubt, and----' I leaned forward, speaking with
intensity, 'you have yet to understand that were Jeanette's father doubly
a thief, still would Jeanette be Jeanette, and the more obstacles you set
in our path, only the more determined shall I become to wed her--if she
will have me.'
"'Ah, but that is the question,' sneered my father. 'It seems you know
not your Jeanette so well, after all, for you have left her natural pride
outside your fine calculations. Suppose she will not have you, what then,
eh?'
"'Ah, then you have told her!' I cried, choking with rage at my
father--with pity and a great longing to hold my love in my arms and dry
away her tears. 'Why could you have not have spared the child that
knowledge? Oh, Jeanette!' I cried, and flung myself against the door;
then, turning, met my father's sneering look with one of bitter defiance.
'I will see Jeanette first,' I said, tensely. 'And then, my father, we
will have a short reckoning,' and going out, I slammed the door upon his
sneering face and flung myself down the stairs in search of my love.
"'Jeanette,' I cried, implored, 'Come to me!' and ran from room to room,
when, not finding her, I became frantic and knocked wildly upon the door
of her own room, calling to her aloud. But she was not there, nor could I
find her anywhere. Her room showed evidence of a hurried packing--small
things strewn here and there; but her sweet presence, that had filled the
gloomy house with sunshine, had fled, where, where, I could not tell!"
Here the speaker's voice trailed off and came to a stop. Then he turned
to the group about him, saying, half questioningly, half apologetically,
"I fear to tire you with this so long tale. After all, I suppose it is
interesting only when applied to one's self."
"Oh, no!" cried Lucile, impulsively, while her eyes shone with eagerness.
"Please go on!"
"You are good, Mademoiselle," murmured the Frenchman, and went on with
his story:
"Well, I sat down outside her door and wept like a child, for to me the
world seemed ended; but then, drawing myself together, and angry at what
I termed my miserable weakness, I set to work earnestly, doggedly, to
find some way out of this great chain of circumstances that bound me.
Where to find Jeanette? My brain reeled with the schemes and plans that
came crowding upon me, only to be rejected one by one as improbable,
fantastic, children of an overwrought imagination.
"At last, one idea became fixed in my mind. The thought came to me and
stayed persistently that, in her great extremity, she would naturally fly
to the one place of refuge which she knew--the old chateau where she had
spent her so happy childhood.
"I knew the place to be still occupied by the old servant and his
wife--this scrap of information my father had thrown to me--but, alas! I
knew not the location, and there were so many chateaux of the kind in the
province! How could I hope to find it?
"I sprang to my feet, while a new determination and resolve took
possession of me, and I uttered a solemn oath, swearing that I would
leave the house that night, _not_ returning till I should bring Jeanette
with me--my wife!"
Little chills of excitement chased themselves all over the girls in a
highly disconcerting manner, and even scoffing Phil leaned forward in his
chair to miss not one word of this remarkable story.