THREATS
Madame de Hansfeld was in a dire perplexity. Her husband had insisted
that she should set out next day for Germany, and it was therefore
absolutely necessary for her to renounce M. de Morville, necessarily
detained at Paris by the failing health of his mother.
Paula's estrangement from the prince had become aversion--profound
hatred; and she thought the feeling almost excusable in consequence of
the whims and harsh proceedings of her husband. The last blow he
inflicted upon her was most distressing of all--to force her to leave
Paris at the very moment when her passion for De Morville, so long
hidden, so long struggled with, was becoming as propitious as she could
have hoped for.
When Iris disclosed to her mistress that the prince very often went to
Pierre Raimond's under a feigned name, in order to meet Madame de
Brévannes, she had greatly excited Paula's ire against Bertha, as she
felt assured that it was in order to keep up the _incognito_ that
favoured his love the more easily that the prince insisted on her
quitting Paris.
After deep reflection, Paula believed that she had discovered a chance
of effectual refusal to depart, even in the very passion of her husband
for Madame de Brévannes.
In spite of the prince's order, Madame de Hansfeld had not announced her
intended departure to any person, nor had she made any preparation for
the journey, hoping that, perchance, her husband would renounce his
first determination. As to his threats of revealing his wife's crimes,
and abandoning her to the justice of society, Paula had only considered
that as a further proof of Arnold's aberration of mind.
Until now, the different attacks of what she called the _derangement_ of
De Hansfeld had inspired her with as much commiseration as alarm. But in
the last conversation the prince had behaved so harshly, so unjustly,
and she felt that she was so cruelly sacrificed to his affection for
Bertha, that, wounded in her most sensitive part--her love for De
Morville,--Paula divided her hatred between her husband and Madame de
Brévannes.
Such were Madame de Hansfeld's reflections when the prince entered her
apartment, having just quitted Pierre Raimond. His demeanour was even
more firm, more imperious than on the preceding evening.
"It appears, madame, that you are not hurrying yourself in your
preparations for departure," he observed dryly; "but as you will not
visit or receive company at the Château de Hansfeld, whither I send
you, you have no great need of much preparation of toilette. You may
take your diamonds, I relinquish them to you. Frantz, who will have
charge of you to Germany, is incorruptible, and my only hesitation in
leaving you your jewels was the apprehension that you might bribe your
guide by their means."
Madame de Hansfeld interrupted her husband.
"I thank you, sir, for affording me the opportunity of returning these
ornaments to you and rising from her chair she went towards a
_secrétaire_, whence she took a large casket, which she handed to the
prince.
"In other days I accepted these presents, but for a long time I have
desired to restore them into your hands."
"Be it so!" said the prince, taking them with indifference; "the most
affectionate tenderness, the most devoted love, have been unavailing
with you, my generosity therefore must have been powerless. It is true,"
he added, with a smile of crushing contempt, "I had by a settlement
assigned the larger portion of my property to you; and, after my
decease, you would have inherited all--these jewels inclusive."
"Sir?"
"Only as you have appeared somewhat in a hurry to enjoy these
advantages, I have found means to realise a portion of my fortune which
has neutralised my previous settlement. I tell you this, in order to
convince you that should I die to-morrow, your interested hopes will be
frustrated. Perhaps I should have told you this earlier, and it might
have spared you some rather hazardous experiments, which your ardent
desire to be a widow explains, but by no means excuses," added De
Hansfeld, with cutting irony.
These cruel words made a strange impression on Madame de Hansfeld,
perfectly indifferent to the reproaches they comprised, and which she
did not comprehend, for she did not in any way deserve them; she was
only struck with their injustice and cruelty.
Had De Hansfeld died at that moment at her feet, she would have been far
from regretting it, for at that instant she recollected what De Morville
had written to her, "_My love will be always unpropitious, since I
cannot aspire to your hand._"
But the princess was soon ashamed and horrified at her thought, or,
rather, her atrocious wish, and replied coldly to her husband,--
"I do not desire to comprehend the sense of your words, monsieur, it is
as odious as it is absurd. As to the question of interest, you know it
was against my wish that you made so large a settlement on me, and it is
only exceedingly natural that you should alter your mind at such an
arrangement."
"As much hypocrisy in language, as audacity in the most criminal
actions!" said the prince, in a low voice, and as if speaking to
himself; "this it is that confounds my reason, and makes me always doubt
this woman's crimes. Fortunately, at this moment she is completely
unmasked, for my fatal love is utterly extinct."
Then, addressing Paula, he said aloud,--
"I come, madame, to desire you to make every hasty preparation for your
departure. You must leave Paris before to-morrow evening!"
"Sir, I will not quit Paris!"
"Then, madame, you prefer that I should speak out?"
"You have used that threat very frequently, sir. For the love of Heaven
speak plainly, and I shall then know what you have to reproach me with."
"You rely too much on the respect I have for my name and my dread of a
public scandal. Take care, and do not drive me to extremities. Be
advised--go--depart!"
"To speak plainly, sir, I am not your dupe; you wish to alarm me--compel
me to leave Paris--and wherefore? in order that your departure may also
be supposed to be taken also, and that you may thus more easily preserve
your _incognito_."
"What mean you, madame?"
"And that you may, thanks to this _incognito_, be favourably received by
Pierre Raimond, the father of Madame de Brévannes."
"Madame, take care!"
"Of Madame de Brévannes, of whom you are enamoured, and whom you so
often meet at her father's house."
At these words the prince remained struck with amaze, his pale face
became purple, and after a moment's silence he exclaimed,--
"Not another word, madame--not another word!"
"You love this woman," added Madame de Hansfeld.
"Not another word, I say, madame!"
"And she gives you _rendezvous_ at her father's house. It's rather a
sudden affair," added Madame de Hansfeld, with irony.
"You are unworthy even to utter the name of such an angel!" cried the
prince.
"Really! Well, then, I am somewhat curious to know what the husband of
this angel will think of your interview with his wife?"
"Do you dare?"
"Particularly when he learns that you introduced yourself to Pierre
Raimond under an assumed name!"
"Are you thus resolved to drive me mad?" exclaimed the prince,
passionately. "You talk of derangement, but it is you who are deranged,
wretched woman, when you thus sport with your fate."
"The future will prove whether you or I am deranged, sir. I have been
long accustomed to the wanderings of your reason; and I do not know if
at this moment you are in your senses. But, however that may be, impress
on your memory this--if you persist in making me quit Paris, I will
disclose every thing to M. de Brévannes."
"Silence, madame, silence!"
"Be it so; I will be silent: but you know my conditions."
"Conditions to me! dare you impose any?"
"I dare; for I wish to believe that, setting aside your monomania of
addressing to me such incomprehensible reproaches, you are a man of good
sense. We have reasons for mutually considering each other on certain
points. Your reason is not very sound; I could thus have you placed
under the protection of the laws, but it would be repugnant to my
feelings to draw public attention towards you by a process which would
rip up all the secrets of your household to the eyes of malignant
curiosity. You must fear on your side that M. de Brévannes may learn
that you are paying attentions to his wife. So let us remain as we are;
I have no pretension to your heart; mine has never been yours--let us
then act as free persons. If it is necessary for you to pretend absence,
I will lend myself to the feint, and say you have quitted Paris. All I
ask in return, sir, is permission to remain where I am for some time,
and my desire is not, I think, exorbitant."
M. de Hansfeld was amazed at Paula's assurance. Unfortunately for him,
she possessed a secret which he trembled to have noised abroad. This
consideration, more than the fear of the scandal of any processes,
operated in placing him in his wife's power.
It is impossible to depict his regrets at hearing that the princess was
instructed as to the visits he paid to the engraver. Bertha's reputation
was thus at the mercy of a woman who inspired Arnold with as much
surprise as horror.
The conduct of Madame de Brévannes was unquestionably irreproachable,
but the least suspicion--the discovery of the prince's real name--would
be sufficient to excite Pierre Raimond's mistrust, and prevent him from
again receiving Arnold Schneider; with one word, the princess could
conjure up this storm. We may imagine the prince's anger when he found
himself under Paula's domination.
She triumphed; she felt all the force of her position. To gain time,
remain in Paris, see De Morville sometimes, write to him frequently,
after having perhaps owned that he was not deceived as to the author of
the mysterious correspondence to which we have referred. Such was the
most ardent desire of Madame de Hansfeld, and, thanks to the secret she
possessed, she hoped fully to realise this wish.
She profited by the sort of stupor of her husband to add,--
"It is, then, understood, sir, you take your jewels. I give up all the
settlement you had made upon me--my only wish being to live as separate
and distinct from you as possible; and even more so if possible than
during the past. This is the price of my silence. You came here, sir,
with threats on your lips, but the characters are changed."
"No!" exclaimed the prince, in a burst of violent indignation, "no, the
woman who has thrice attempted my life dares not use such language, and
threaten me--me, whose forbearance has been so great,--me, who, from a
latent feeling of absurd consideration, have always recoiled from the
terrible accusation which might compel you to confront a scaffold!"
Madame de Hansfeld looked at her husband with amazement.
"Sir, take care, your brain wanders!"
"I tell you that three times you have attempted to assassinate me,
madame!"
"I?"
"You, madame! You remember the pavilion at Trieste; the lone _auberge_,
on the road to Geneva; and then the last attempt that was made but two
days ago against my life?"
"I--I? Why, it is impossible that you can say this seriously, sir?"
exclaimed Paula. "For what motive should I commit so black a crime? It
is horrible! for surely nothing in my conduct could have authorised such
terrible suspicions."
"Suspicions, madame? say, rather certainties."
"Certainties? and of what nature--on what proofs do you base them? But I
am wrong to discuss with you thus,--it is really derangement."
"Dare you to allude to my derangement! why it was my forbearance that
was my sole derangement, madame; I could not isolate myself in
distrust--surround myself with precautions without explaining the cause,
and that explanation would have ruined you."
Madame de Hansfeld looked at her husband with increasing surprise, she
could not credit, she could not believe what she had heard.
"Now, sir," she said, recalling her recollection, "all your strange
caprices, your singular bursts are explained. This odious accusation
has, at least, the merit of being precise, and my justification will be
as easy."
"You pretend then----"
"To justify myself? Yes, most assuredly, and I request that you will
listen to me."
"Your audacity confounds me. There was a time when I might have been
your dupe--but now----"
"Now, sir, you will be pleased to tell me the grounds on which your
accusation rests; what are your proofs? I will refute them one by one.
There is no logic so potent as truth."
M. de Hansfeld, confounded at this assurance, looked in his turn at his
wife with unfeigned and vast astonishment. She was so calm, she seemed
to anticipate with so much innocence those explanations, which a guilty
conscience would have dreaded, that his doubts all returned more
strongly than ever.
"What, madame!" exclaimed he, "do you deny that one evening at Trieste,
after a painful dispute, you endeavoured to get rid of me by throwing
into a cup of milk, which had been brought for me, a poison so violent,
that a spaniel, to which I was greatly attached, died the moment after
he had drunk it?"
"I--I poison?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands, with horror, "why, who
could--great God!--have inspired you with such suspicions? How have I
deserved them? How, since then do you suppose me capable of such a
crime?"
"That crime was not the only one, madame!"
"If the others have no better proofs than that, sir, God will demand at
your hands an account of these terrible accusations."
After a silent reflection for some moments, Paula resumed,--
"Yes, yes, now I remember the circumstance to which you allude, and also
another which will entirely exculpate me, and the explanation of which
you may ask of Frantz, in whom I know you have entire confidence. I
perfectly well remember that after our painful discussion, when you left
the pavilion, the tea had not been brought in."
"True; but it was on my return to the kiosk that I found the cup which
no doubt you had poured out for me in my absence."
"You mistake. Fortunately the minutest details of that evening are
before my eyes at this moment. I left the pavilion after you, and as I
was about to descend the steps Frantz was bringing in the tea, which he
put down on a table before me, and then followed me to the house, where
I kept him occupied for the rest of the evening. Ask him instantly, and
may I die this moment if he will contradict a word that I say!"
"Who, then, could have put the poison in the cup?"
"I only profess to clear myself, and riot to develope this horrid
mystery."
"You will be exculpated unquestionably should Frantz confirm what you
have said. But the attempt at assassination at the lone inn on the road
to Geneva?"
"After your first suspicion," said Paula, smiling bitterly, "this does
not surprise me. Still, you must remember that I was sleeping soundly,
and that you had some trouble to arouse me from my slumber. As to the
attentions I paid you after this terrible event, I did not suppose you
suspected them!"
"But the stiletto which belonged to you, and which was the weapon that
committed the crime?"
"I cannot explain this strange incident any more than you can. This very
valuable dagger, and till then very inoffensive one, had served me as a
paper-knife, and I always shut it up in my writing-case.--But, now I
think of it, Frantz can again speak in my favour. He kept the keys of
the boxes of our travelling carriage, and had himself packed up this
writing-box, which he did not open until we reached Geneva. When we left
Trieste, he had arranged it with Iris. Inquire of them both whether the
dagger was packed with the other things, and they will, I am certain,
confirm what I say. During the journey I never left you for a moment,
and as Frantz always carried the keys of the carriage about him, how
could I obtain possession of this dagger?"
What Madame de Hansfeld said, seemed so perfectly probable that the
prince fancied he again heard the secret voice which had so often
repeated, "Paula is not guilty!"
The prince felt his suspicions almost entirely dissipated; and although
he no longer loved Paula, he had so generous a temper that he regretted
most bitterly ever having accused Madame de Hansfeld, and already
imposed on himself the obligation of making her a complete and solemn
reparation if she justified herself entirely.
"You have, sir," she said, "a final charge to make against me. Will you
be so kind as to produce it? Let us, I beseech you, terminate this
conversation, which, as you may well believe, is most painful to me!"
"The day before yesterday, madame, the iron balustrade which environs
the small terrace of the _belvéder_ of the hotel was cut away at the
bottom and had no support. Instead of leaning upon it at once, as is my
usual custom, I mechanically placed my hand upon it, and it fell
instantly to the earth!"
"Horrible!" exclaimed Paula, "and you really believed--but why should
you not? this crime was not more horrid than the others. I shall have
more difficulty to exculpate myself from this accusation: all I can tell
you is that the day before yesterday I went out at eleven o'clock to go
and breakfast with Madame de Lormoy; I returned at four o'clock, and
your servant must have seen that from this hour until the moment when I
went to the Opera, I did not leave my own room. I must have crossed the
court-yard in order to go into your gallery, which is the only means of
communication with the staircase of the _belvéder_, and no one enters
your apartments but Frantz: interrogate him, and perhaps you may learn
something from him; as for me, I have not another word to add on this
subject."
After a few moments' silence, M. de Hansfeld rose and said to his
wife,--
"What you tell me, madame, makes me alter my determination. Your
departure, which I desired, I desire no longer; when I have spoken with
Frantz, I will see you again."
And the prince quitted his wife with an air of the deepest dejection.