THE INTERROGATORY
Madame de Hansfeld felt some hesitation as to the manner in which she
should commence the conversation, with a view to arriving at the truth
of what she desired to know: by expressing herself in terms of severity,
however merited, she feared to alarm Iris, and thereby occasion an
obstinate silence or absolute denial. At length she persuaded herself
she had found the means of avoiding this difficulty.
"Iris," said she, dejectedly, as the Creole stood beside her, in prompt
obedience to her summons,--"Iris, M. de Hansfeld has just left me. At
length I have discovered the cause of all those eccentricities on his
part, which made me fear his reason was affected."
"And what is that cause, godmother?"
"His life has been three times attempted."
"He fancies so, as he fancies many other things equally absurd and
improbable."
"I tell you it is as I say; thrice has his life been in danger; I have
irrefragable proofs of what I assert."
"And he knows the guilty person?"
"At least he believes he does."
"And who is this person?"
"Myself!"
"You?"
"So he thinks."
"And he has accused you of the fact; and threatened you?"
"He has."
"With what?"
"With being placed in the hands of justice,--dragged before the public
tribunals."
"No matter; you are innocent."
"Still that does not diminish the disgrace of such a report, or the pain
and humiliation of being suspected of such a crime."
"At least in danger, shame, or disgrace, your poor Iris can accompany
you; she will never forsake you; at such a time her devotion and
fidelity will be more than ever necessary to you."
This savage simplicity made Paula shudder, and opened her eyes to a part
of the truth; redoubling, therefore, both her prudence and reserve, she
extended her hand to Iris, saying,--
"Doubtless, as you say, at such a time your cares and attentions would
be more than ever valuable and soothing to my feelings; still I should
refuse them, out of regard for yourself."
"Godmother!"
"No temptation on earth should induce me to accept them."
"And you would reject my services out of regard for my welfare?"
"Decidedly; whatever may occur to me, I shall select Marianne or any
other attendant to accompany me."
"And me? and me?"
"I should request the prince to send you back into Germany before the
trial, and I feel quite assured he would not refuse to do so."
"But, godmother, you bewilder me! I cannot understand your motive in
sending me away at a time when all others would fly from and abandon
you."
"Because your attachment for me is so well known, that it might probably
bring you under the suspicion of being my accomplice in those things of
which, God knows, I am unjustly accused."
"Never mind my being considered your partner in guilt,--I care nothing
for the opinion of the whole world, on the contrary, I should glory in
having my name associated with yours, either in good or evil."
"Still, Iris, I should insist upon your departure. I will not add to the
troubles which at present surround me, and to the still more formidable
dangers which threaten me, the additional misery of seeing you
wretched."
For an instant Iris reflected with deep earnestness, while her mistress
watched her with close attention. At length the girl continued, in a
cold and unnatural tone of voice,--
"Since the prince accuses you, godmother, I will go to him and tell him
I am your confederate,--I shall not then be separated from you."
Paula shook with dread; she well knew that Iris was fully equal to
putting this design into execution.
"Unhappy girl!" cried she, "do you not perceive that by styling yourself
my accomplice you affirm my guilt; to accuse yourself is to accuse me
also, and probably to lead me to a scaffold?"
"Be it so; I can then die with you."
"What mean you?" cried the princess, terrified at the triumphant look
and almost fiendish determination imprinted on the features of Iris.
"I mean," replied the mulatto, with savage wildness, "that my position
with you is at present a wretched one, godmother, and that the dearest
wish of my heart is, to see you placed in such difficulties and
misfortunes that my devotion to you shall be your only source of
happiness, joy, or consolation; and I say again and again, that loving
you with the intense adoration I do, I would rather a thousand times see
you dead than indifferent to the passionate love I feel for you, whom I
idolise as mother, sister, Deity! And I tell you also, that neither
Raphael nor De Morville have ever done a thousandth part as much to
merit your affection as I have done; and yet they have occupied, and
will continue to occupy, your every thought, whilst I--I am but as
nothing in your estimation; this is cruel, godmother--more than
cruel--it is unjust and ungrateful."
"And how dare you presume thus to reproach one who has sheltered,
protected, and loaded you with benefits? And how have you requited my
constant kindness?"
"Since you ask me the question, godmother, I will answer it, and that,
too, on the spot and without disguise, for we must fulfil our destinies.
You inquire what I have done in requital of your bounty towards me? In
the first place, I caused the death of Raphael by the hand of M. Charles
de Brévannes. But let me previously----"
"Gracious God! do I hear aright? You--you effected the death of
Raphael!--she terrifies me! Merciful heavens!"
"Yes I! but you know not Raphael's real character. Twenty times, on
witnessing your tears and regrets, I have been on the point of saying to
you, 'You have nothing to regret, Raphael was unworthy of you but I
refrained; now you shall hear my reason for thinking so."
"Explain yourself, unhappy girl; what does all this mean? or is it after
all nothing but a cruel jest?"
"No, no; Iris jests not where you are concerned. Listen to me; you may
remember having left me at Venice, but you can never form an idea of
what I suffered in consequence of this separation; you either did not
perceive my grief, or you took no heed of it; you were even displeased
at the importunity with which I implored to be permitted to accompany
you. God knows you would have acted more generously towards me had you
allowed me to perish in the streets, than first to excite my gratitude
and afterwards to find the manifestations of that overwhelming feeling
troublesome and offensive."
"The wretched creature is mad! What has your gratitude to me to do with
Raphael?"
"As I before said, you left me at Venice, to my extreme grief and
misery. I could not, however, endure my existence without receiving
further information respecting you than was contained in an occasional
cold formal letter written by you to me; by force of prayers and
supplications I prevailed on Inès, your waiting-maid, to send me a
minute detail of all your proceedings. You would scarcely credit the
perseverance, promises, and temptations, I was compelled to employ ere I
could win over this cold and inanimate person to enter into my wishes
sufficiently to undertake to write me a regular account of every day's
transactions. You may judge a little by that how absorbing and
all-engrossing was my attachment for you!"
"Alas!" said Paula, "I know not whether to execrate, pity, or admire
your devotion."
"I probably deserve at once pity, hatred, and admiration," pursued Iris,
boldly. "But to proceed. From Inès I learnt the ardent court paid you
by Charles de Brévannes, and that public report asserted (though
falsely) that you repaid his love. Your mind and heart were, however,
entirely engrossed by Raphael, of whom you daily conversed with your
aunt--and in Inès's presence--but during this time of fascination and
deep passion on your part Raphael was grossly deceiving you."
"Raphael!--Raphael deceive me!--Oh, no! no! 'tis another vile falsehood
on your part, invented for some base purpose!"
"Nay, then, you shall have the proof of his perfidy! His motive in
visiting Venice was to release himself from his vows to you, he having
pledged his faith to a young Greek of Zante, named Cora. Oh, I will
prove this to you ere I have done! Well, he was fully aware of the
confidence you reposed in me, and he gave me credit for a degree of
influence over your mind which I was far from possessing--but listen to
my tale: it was to me, then, he first whispered the history of his
capricious falsehood, beseeching of me to communicate it to you with all
possible care and skilfulness; from my lips he fancied the tidings of
his perjury would sound less cruel!"
"But his duel with De Brévannes?"
"You shall know all about that directly; let me proceed. As I listened
to the false and cowardly excuses of Raphael, a feeling of mingled rage
and delight took possession of my soul."
"Delight?"
"Yes, even so!--for to me those whom you love are almost equally hateful
with those who I am aware are your enemies."
"Surely the fiend himself must have taken possession of your bosom. Oh!
accursed was the day in which my eyes first beheld you!"
"That day is probably as accursed for me as for you! When I learnt the
treachery of Raphael, I felt, as I told you, both rejoiced and incensed;
but my first impulse was to avenge the slight shewn to you, and without
an instant's delay, I proceeded to lay Raphael's vanity low, by
ridiculing his idea of breaking the news he considered so afflicting, to
you, by degrees, and assuring him you had long since imitated, if not
anticipated, his inconstancy, by becoming, almost upon your first
arrival at Florence, the acknowledged mistress of Charles de
Brévannes."
"Yet Inès herself had written you to the contrary!"
"True; still she asserted that appearances generally were against you,
and that public opinion unanimously pronounced you guilty of the charge.
I only intended to inflict a severe wound on the self-love and vanity of
Raphael. My expectations were, however, exceeded. Such is the
overweening pride of man, that even this perfidious traitor, who had so
unhesitatingly sacrificed you to his capricious fancy, became perfectly
furious at the idea of having been himself deceived. I applied fresh
irritation to his mortified feelings, and worked upon his offended
vanity till I wrung from his outraged self-importance that which love
would never have urged him to. He departed with Osorio for Venice,
breathing threats of revenge and fury for your feigned falsehood! And
the very being who, believing himself assured of your heart's warmest
affections, had but a short time since ruthlessly and pitilessly
trampled your love beneath his feet, and remorselessly left you to pine
and die in anguish at his desertion, became all at once influenced by
his former wild and ungovernable passion, directly he found himself on
the point of losing you, and being rejected for another! You know the
rest, and how deeply his error was increased by the infamous
intervention of De Brévannes, who slew him not, until he had first
persuaded him of your infidelity."
"Heavenly Father! can such crimes be?"
"I told you I would substantiate the perjury of Raphael. In the first
place, you will be abundantly convinced by the reading of a letter
addressed to yourself, and consigned by Raphael to my care when at
Venice, in which he openly speaks of his approaching marriage with the
young Greek. After the duel, Osorio wrote to me, begging I would
suppress the letter altogether, no doubt wishing to avenge his friend by
throwing the whole blame on your shoulders, by making it appear that you
alone had broken your faith, while Raphael had never departed from the
affection breathed forth in his last billet to you."
"But wherefore did you abandon me to all the weight of my remorse? Why,
when you saw me so long remain faithful to the memory of one who had so
grossly deceived me, did you not tell me I mourned an unworthy object?"
"Why did I not tell you this?"
"Yes; I asked wherefore did you not disclose the truth to me?"
"Because I would rather your affections were engrossed by the dead than
the living."
"And when I spoke before you of my reluctance to return the love of M.
de Morville upon the plea of my scruples at proving false to the memory
of Raphael, why did you not dissipate my regrets by a single word?"
"I tell you, as I said before, because I had much rather see your heart
occupied by the dead than the living; and also because I trusted and
hoped that the remembrance of Raphael would effectually exclude M. de
Morville from any place in your affections."
"Then you hate M. de Morville, also?" exclaimed Madame de Hansfeld,
recoiling with horror from the infernal genius which seemed to prompt so
young a girl to imagine and execute all she desired to have done.
Instead of immediately replying to this inquiry, Iris remained for
several minutes thoughtful and silent; then, with a gloomy and overcast
air, she resumed,--
"I have already said, that I hate and detest every person who loves you,
or whom you love, with a hatred as deadly as I feel for your enemies.
Such is my nature--such my unavoidable course."
"Then as regards M. de Morville?"
"Nay," interrupted Iris,--"nay, godmother, ask me for no further reasons
than I have already given for my aversion to M. de Morville. Am I not
jealous of the smallest portion of your favour? and do I not suffer the
most cruel torments each time you lavish the rich treasures of your love
on beings wholly incapable of valuing and appreciating you as I do;
still, I would not, for my own selfish gratification, deprive you of any
certain happiness, because that happiness would cause my wretchedness
and despair. Oh, no; far from it;--there have been times when such evil
thoughts have presented themselves to my imagination,--but I have been
enabled to struggle with and overcome them!"
"Then I am to understand," said Madame de Hansfeld, bitterly, "that you
grant me permission to return the affection of M. de Morville?"
"I will do more than that," returned the mulatto, casting a piercing
look on her mistress.
Without being able either to account for her own sensations, or the
meaning of the singular look bestowed on her by Iris, Madame de Hansfeld
felt a deep blush steal over her cheek as she hastily bent her head to
conceal her emotion.
In a more humble and subdued tone, the mulatto resumed, by saying,--
"And now that I have told you all I know concerning Raphael, I will also
enlighten you on subjects relating to the prince."
"At length, then," murmured the princess, "this fearful mystery will be
explained--she will confess all."