THE BLACK BOOK
When Iris proposed to Madame de Hansfeld to reply for her to M. de
Brévannes on the subject of the interview which was to take place in
the Jardin des Plantes, she not only prevented the princess from
committing an imprudent act, but, unknown to her mistress, made her an
accomplice in a most diabolical project.
Our readers, no doubt, remember a _black book_ of which Iris had spoken
to M. de Brévannes, and in which she told him the princess wrote her
most secret thoughts almost every day.
Nothing could be more false. Paula had never possessed such a book; but
it was important to the plots of Iris that M. de Brévannes should
credit the falsehood, and his belief would be confirmed when he
recognised, in this book, writing similar to that of the note which
Madame de Hansfeld had now sent to him.
The profound dissimulation, the bold and mischievous plotting of Iris
may excite some astonishment; and it may be, perhaps, equally difficult
to comprehend her savage affection, her intense jealousy which had
almost become ferocious monomania.
Unfortunately, the main facts of this tale, the principal features in
Iris's character, are perfectly true.
There has been known a young girl, with passions so ardent, so
implacable, which she has combined, concentrated in the blind attachment
she had for her benefactress, a singular affection which approached
filial veneration in its religious devotion, maternal tenderness in its
charming and pure familiarity, and love in its vindictive jealousy.
If, in the sequel of this tale, there is detected in Iris a great power
of imagination joined to an inventive mind, full of stratagem, adroit,
and bold,--if any of her combinations seem worked out with a perfidy and
skill most rare in a girl of her age, we repeat that solitude had
singularly developed her natural faculties, incessantly devoted to one
end, and that, compelled to act alone and beneath the shade of the
deepest dissimulation, she held every means good that was likely to
bring her to the one concentrated object of her desires,--
_To isolate her mistress from every affection._
To create, as it were, a void around her, and become to her the more
necessary as every other attachment failed her.
This last desire of Iris had hitherto been unsatisfied.
There is no doubt that Madame de Hansfeld felt for her companion a real
attachment, placed boundless confidence in her, and was invariably kind
and affectionate towards her; but this was not sufficient for the heart
of Iris.
She experienced the most bitter, painful resentment at what she called a
deception; but, as she was unable to hate her mistress, her execration
accumulated against those who inspired the princess with the slightest
interest.
These explanations are necessary in order to prepare the reader for the
events which follow.
In the two interviews, which her first meeting with De Brévannes had
procured her, Iris by order of Paula had endeavoured to fathom this
man's motives.
Infamous as it was, the calumny he could spread abroad respecting Madame
de Hansfeld was much to be dreaded. Raphael had created the infamous
falsehood, and why should not the world, or rather De Morville (for he
was all the world to Paula), credit it?
Madame de Hansfeld did not know what course to resolve upon. Since she
had been enamoured of De Morville, she had hated De Brévannes the more
intensely, and thus her indignation and contempt were insufficient to
describe the audacity of the latter, when he attempted to obtain an
interview with her, through the mediation of Iris, who sagaciously
observed to her mistress, that M. de Brévannes's anger might be
dangerous, and that thus, instead of exasperating, it was policy to
endeavour to get rid of him peaceably. Unfortunately the violent and
headstrong love of Bertha's husband would not conform to any management.
As we have seen, in his third interview with Iris, he declared
positively that he would speak out, if the princess refused him an
interview any longer.
Iris had continued to play her double part, in order to increase De
Brévannes' confidence, pretending not to be pleased with her mistress
in order to remove all suspicion of collusion, and appearing very much
flattered at the agreeable gallantries of M. de Brévannes.
She made him believe, moreover, that Madame de Hansfeld seemed to feel
for him a sort of anger, mingled with interest--a singular resentment
which Iris did not attempt to explain, as she said, for she affected
ignorance of what had occurred at Florence between De Brévannes and
Paula. Such was the source of the secret hopes of Bertha's husband;
hopes arising from his blind self-love, and increased by the treacherous
confidence of Iris.
This explained, we will conduct the reader to the small house which De
Brévannes rented in the Rue des Martyrs, and of which he now had sole
possession.
It was the day after that on which Iris had given him the pretended note
from the princess, on receiving which, De Brévannes had ventured for
the first time to speak of the _black book_, and his desire to
possess it for a moment.
Iris, after innumerable difficulties, had told him, that perhaps it
might be possible to abstract the book the next day for a few hours
only, when the princess was going to pass the morning with Madame de
Lormoy, De Morville's aunt.
M. de Brévannes had requested the young girl to bring the precious
volume to the Rue des Martyrs, when he would read it in her presence,
and return it to her instantly, with the recompense due to such a
service,--a recompense which she resolved to accept, in order that no
suspicion of De Brévannes should be excited.
He was thus awaiting Iris in the small saloon to which we have before
referred.
If the disposition of De Brévannes be borne in mind,--if his unmoveable
obstinacy, his pride, his headstrong passion to succeed in whatever he
undertook, be not forgotten,--if his will, his obstinacy, his vanity
called into play by a deep and enthusiastic love, against which he had
struggled for two years, be remembered, we may conceive with what
passionate desire he sought to be beloved by Madame de Hansfeld, a woman
so attractive, so envied, so respected.
It was noon. M. de Brévannes was awaiting Iris with great impatience.
Madame Grassot, the guardian of this mysterious dwelling, remained in
the upper story. Iris arrived, and De Brévannes ran to meet her.
She affected to be trembling and alarmed, and M. de Brévannes
reassured, and led her to the room; she holding in her hand a small
album bound in black morocco, and closed with a silver lock. Trembling
with delight and impatience at the sight of this book, De Brévannes
took from the mantel-piece a ring, with a fine-sized brilliant, which he
placed on the finger of Iris in spite of her assumed resistance.
"I pray you, my charming Iris," he said, "accept so trifling a token of
my gratitude. This pretty hand has no need of ornament, but it is a
souvenir which I entreat you to wear, and you promised you would accept
it."
"Yes, I did; but I do not know if I ought--a diamond?"
"What is a diamond? It is the ring I speak of."
"And it is the ring, then, that I accept," replied Iris, with a smile of
deep hypocrisy, "since my condition exposes me to certain
remunerations."
"If I chose a diamond," said De Brévannes, "it is because I would
present you with an emblem of the endurance and purity of my gratitude."
And he put forth his hand to take the black book.
"No, no!" exclaimed Iris, appearing still to struggle with duty; "it is
so horrible, I condemn myself for you."
"What harm is done? it is but an indiscretion at worst, my dear Iris;
and, as your mistress is so often unjust towards you, it is, on your
part, but a small, allowable, even innocent vengeance."
"Oh! I know I am inexcusable; and when you have once read the book, you
will forget poor Iris, when you have no further occasion for her. But
why should I complain, have you not paid me for my treachery?" she
added, with bitterness.
"This little creature is desperately smitten with me," thought De
Brévannes, "and how the devil shall I get rid of her? Can she mean, now
she has got the ring, not to let me see the book?"
Then he said aloud, with earnestness,--
"You are mistaken, Iris. In the first place, I shall never think I have
repaid my obligation to you: have no fear that I shall ever forget you.
I wish, for my own peace of mind, that I could; and it requires all the
seriousness of the things on which I have to discourse with your
mistress in order to make me for a moment forget my love for you, Iris;
for I do love you. But we will not refer to that now. There are serious
interests at stake. How is your mistress?"
"She has remained dull and pensive ever since she gave you the
appointment which you so imperatively demanded."
"She forced me to do so. I was so wretched at her refusal, that I forgot
myself so far as to threaten her, which I no longer regret, since it has
procured for me what I so much desired both for her interest and mine.
But she is dull and pensive, you say?"
"Yes; sometimes she remains for a long time as if completely
overwhelmed; then suddenly she rises impetuously and walks up and down
for some minutes greatly agitated."
"And to what do you ascribe her state of mind?"
"I know not."
"This book, which you hesitate to confide to me, and which I dare not
again ask you for, would inform us."
"Oh, I have no desire to know the princess's secrets. It was to be
agreeable to you, and to obey you, that I have brought this book: the
key is in the lock, but I have not opened it."
"Well, then, open it now, since what you call a wicked act has been
committed, you have only to complete the vast service you have rendered
me. Do you still hesitate? I know I have no other right to this kindness
on your part, except----"
"There I there! read it directly," said Iris, turning away her head, and
handing the album to De Brévannes. "What I am doing is infamous, but I
cannot resist the influence you have over me."
[Illustration 12: "De Brévannes quickly opened the black book
and perused its contents."]
"The influence of a firm will," thought De Brévannes, as he quickly
unclosed the black book, in which he read what follows, whilst Iris,
with her elbow resting on the mantel-piece, her cheek reclining on her
hand, and pretending not to be looking at her dupe, was attentively
watching him in the glass.