WILD-FOWL SHOOTING
M. de Hansfeld was surprised, agitated, and excited.
He had seen Bertha alight from a carriage with De Brévannes,--Bertha,
to whom he had, as he believed, said adieu for ever at their last
interview at Pierre Raimond's.
Never having known that Paula was acquainted with De Brévannes, Arnold
could not conceive why he had brought his wife to the Hôtel Lambert,
and how Madame de Hansfeld had formed an intimacy with Bertha, of whom
she knew he was enamoured. Had not Paula, in order to escape the journey
to Germany which her husband had threatened, in her turn menaced him
with disclosing to M. de Brévannes the interviews he had had with
Bertha at the engraver's?
What, then, was Paula's motive in receiving Bertha at the Hôtel
Lambert? was it affectation or indifference?
Arnold was bewildered in conjecture, and when he reflected that he was
about to see Bertha once more, astonishment, delight, and fear, agitated
him in spite of himself, and he said to Paula in a voice which shook
with emotion,--
"I think I have just seen some visitors arrive for you?"
"Yes," replied Madame de Hansfeld, who was also considerably
embarrassed, "one of my friends has introduced me in society to Madame
de Brévannes, who is, they say, so charming, and whom you find so!" she
added, with a forced laugh, "Madame de Brévannes asked me what day I
should be at home, I told her to-day, and then forgot it. She is waiting
now with her husband. Not having seen you, it was impossible for me to
tell you of this expected visit, which I should suppose, however, is by
no means disagreeable to you."
"May I remark, godmother, that these gentlefolks have been here for a
long time?" said Iris, with the kind of respectful familiarity which was
usual with her.
"She is right," said De Hansfeld, imprudently yielding to the desire of
once more seeing Bertha, and he rang the bell.
A footman appeared.
"Request the lady and gentleman to walk in," said the prince.
The footman left the room.
Iris and Paula exchanged a meaning look.
In order to understand the following scene, we must explain that a few
lines of the Black Book, written by Iris in Paula's name, had that very
morning been shewn to De Brévannes, by which he learned that the Prince
de Hansfeld was the object of Bertha's love, and that she had very often
met him under an assumed name at Pierre Raimond's.
A few expressive words indicated the terrible consequences which De
Brévannes proposed to elicit from this love; whose punishment, if it
became guilty and was detected, would assure the liberty of himself and
Paula.
After this discovery, De Brévannes redoubled his hypocrisy, in order
still further to lull his wife into security, although he resolved to
watch narrowly, not doubting in the least her love for the prince.
Bertha's first refusal to go to the Hôtel Lambert, her increasing
emotion as she approached the place where she would see Arnold again,
were convincing proofs of this love. De Brévannes was besides informed
by the porter at Pierre Raimond's of the visits the engraver received;
and De Hansfeld had been so accurately described to him that he only
awaited the opportunity of seeing the prince to be assured of his
identity with the constant visitor of Pierre Raimond.
Paula, seated by the fireside, had beside her a small table, on which
was laid the fatal pin; which, handed to Iris, would prevent the
disclosure to De Brévannes of the trickery of which he was the dupe,
and leave him in the delusion that in getting rid of his wife and the
prince he might marry Paula.
The Bohemian girl, occupied at some tapestry-work, was partially
concealed by the window-curtains near which she was seated, but still
she did not take her eyes off her mistress.
And it must be added that her look sometimes exercised a kind of
fascination over Paula.
M. de Hansfeld, standing near the fireplace, endeavoured, but in vain,
to conceal his emotion.
The door opened, and a valet-de-chambre announced,--"M. and Madame de
Brévannes."
Our readers may, perchance, find a contrast sufficiently dramatic
between the futile, slight, and "bald, disjointed chat" of the four
actors in this scene, and the anxieties, the various and deep passions
which agitated them.
Madame de Hansfeld rose, went some steps towards Bertha, and said to her
with complaisance,--
"Madame, you are most kind to have remembered that I was at home
to-day."
"Madame, you--are--very obliging," stammered Bertha, lowering her eyes
that she might not meet those of Arnold.
The poor girl was ready to sink.
The princess added,--
"Will you allow me, madame, to present the Prince de Hansfeld, who has
not yet had the honour of an introduction to you?"
Arnold advanced, made a low bow, and said to Bertha,--
"I very much regret not having accompanied Madame de Hansfeld into
society as often as I could have wished; and after her good fortune in
being introduced to you, I regret it doubly, madame; yet I console
myself as I am happy enough to have now an opportunity of paying my
respects to you."
Anxious to come to Bertha's aid, and who, more and more troubled, had
not a word to reply to Arnold, Madame de Hansfeld said to him,
presenting M. de Brévannes,--
"M. de Brévannes."
De Brévannes bowed.
The prince returned his salute, and said, with much affability,--
"I shall be always delighted, sir, to see you at Madame de Hansfeld's,
and hope I shall often have that pleasure."
"As often, sir, as it will be possible for me to profit by so agreeable
a request without intrusion."
After these indispensable preliminaries, the four persons seated
themselves, Paula in her place on the right hand of the fire-place,
Bertha on the left hand side, De Brévannes beside Madame de Hansfeld,
and Arnold by the engraver's daughter.
The prince, feeling the utter necessity of subduing his emotion, did the
honours of his house with perfect dignity.
Bertha, on her part, gradually resumed her self-possession. Paula
exerted herself not to give way to the terrible ideas which had occupied
her brain since her conversation with Iris.
De Brévannes, who had always heard the prince mentioned as a sort of
original, whimsical, strange-tempered, and half an idiot, and had asked
himself how his wife could be smitten with such a man, was utterly
amazed at the distinguished manners and urbane condescension of De
Hansfeld, whose youthful and mild features were singularly attractive.
It was then he fully comprehended Bertha's love, and his rage increased
against her and De Hansfeld. From time to time he cast a furtive glance
upon her, as fierce as the glare of a tiger, then he sought Paula's look
with an air of intelligence, by turns gloomy and impassioned, which
proved to Madame de Hansfeld that Iris had not deceived her with respect
to the Black Book.
After the few first commonplaces had passed, a silence succeeded that
was somewhat embarrassing.
The prince broke it, by saying to Bertha,--
"You must have had some trouble, madame, in finding this isolated abode
in the midst of this deserted quarter?"
"No, sir!" replied Bertha, blushing to her eyes; "my father lives very
close by."
This reply, which the young lady had made without reflection, redoubled
her confusion, by recalling to her the first time she detected her love
for Arnold, who added quickly,--
"That is different, madame; but for real Parisians to come to the Ile
Saint Louis it is always a kind of journey."
"At least," said De Brévannes, "they are recompensed for the journey,
as you call it, sir, by being enabled to admire this hôtel, which is
really a palace."
"Indeed," said Paula, to carry on the conversation, "in the Faubourg
Saint-Germain, the quarter for fine houses, where we resided for some
time, we could not find any thing comparable to this really spacious
residence."
"We build no palaces now," said De Brévannes; "fortunes are too much
divided. You gentlemen foreigners have much more sense than we have: in
England, Russia, and Germany also, I presume, the right of primogeniture
has wisely preserved the principle of large inheritance."
"I am sure, sir," said De Hansfeld, with a smile, "you have never had
brother or sister?"
"True, sir; but whence do you deduce that certainty?"
"From your admiration of the right of primogeniture."
De Brévannes did not comprehend the amiable meaning of the prince's
remark, and replied,--
"You think, then, sir, if I had not been an only son, I should have
viewed the subject differently?"
"I think, sir, that your love for your brothers and sisters would
completely have changed your view of this subject. But excuse me,
madame," said the prince, addressing Bertha, "for talking politics; and
without any transition I will ask you, what you thought of the new
comedy at the Théâtre Français? Madame de Hansfeld and myself had the
pleasure of seeing you, I may not say of remarking you, there."
"Why you could hardly do otherwise," said Bertha, with a little more
confidence, "for I was seated beside Madame Girard, who wore so singular
a head-dress that it attracted universal attention."
"I assure you, madame," remarked Paula, "that on casting our eyes
towards your box, we saw the singular cap, the sobieska of Madame
Girard, by chance."
"The comedy seemed to me delightful and replete with interest," said
Bertha; "and without knowing the author, M. de Gercourt, I was delighted
at his success, he had so many persons who envied him."
"M. de Gercourt, the author, is quite a fashionable man, is he not?"
inquired Madame de Hansfeld.
"Yes, madame," replied De Brévannes, "he was one of the five or six
most fashionable men in Paris--he ranked even directly after _handsome_
Morville, that star which for so long a time has shone with unrivalled
brilliancy: between ourselves, I scarcely know why: it was a ridiculous
infatuation, nothing more, for Gercourt and many others have a thousand
times more attractions than this assuming M. de Morville."
Paula started when she heard the name so dear to her pronounced.
The glances of the princess and Iris met, and the look of the latter
fell on Paula's heart like lead.
Completely ignorant of Paula's love for De Morville, and thinking it
would have a good effect, in her eyes, to display his contempt of one of
the most distinguished men in Paris, and moreover giving way to a
feeling of envy and a habit of aspersion, which he had long entertained
towards De Morville, whom he detested for no other cause than mean
jealousy, De Brévannes continued,--
"This Monsieur de Morville has a pretty face, if you please, but he has,
at the same time, such a besotted air of self-satisfaction that he is
really sickening. They talk of his successes, but then he has never
succeeded but with women whose facility of conquest makes them hardly
worth a struggle for men who are in the same society as themselves.
There was an immense deal of talk as to his affair with that English
lady. He was certainly very deeply in love with her, but she laughed at
him as every woman of good taste must do: for do you not think, madame,
that we may always judge of the value of a woman by the value of the man
whom she distinguishes?"
"That is generally true, sir," said Paula, restraining herself.
"Well, madame, then you may imagine the silly and ridiculous enthusiasts
of this silly and ridiculous De Morville."
Nothing is more vulgar than the saying, "Small causes often produce
great results," but nothing can be more true than this vulgarism.
Another proof:
De Hansfeld was not acquainted with De Morville, and it was indifferent
to him whether he was well or ill spoken of; but giving way
unconsciously, no doubt, to a vague desire to stand well with M. de
Brévannes, he thought it would be agreeable to him if he shared with
him in his opinion of De Morville.
Moreover, poor Bertha herself, as much from desire to conciliate her
husband, as from that deference, that involuntary acquiescence which a
woman invariably accords to the opinion of the man she loves--poor
Bertha, we must add, was actually the simple and unsuspecting echo of
the prince in the ensuing conversation.
This conversation was the _cause_, we shall hereafter discover the
_effect_.
De Hansfeld, therefore, said,--
"I do not know M. de Morville, I have only seen him once or twice; he
seemed handsome, but his affectation struck me as ridiculous, and I
heard it remarked that his merit was absurdly exaggerated."
"I heard the same thing," added the unlucky Bertha; "he seemed to me to
have very regular features, but they were perhaps too insignificant."
Paula did not utter a syllable. She took from off the small table the
fatal pin, and began to play with the ornament.
Iris never took her eyes off her mistress. She started with gloomy joy
when she observed her mistress's action.
We may see that the petty _cause_ was beginning to produce its _effect_.
"I am delighted to see a person of taste like you, sir," said M. de
Brévannes to the prince, "confirm my judgment by approval."
Arnold, in order to establish himself perfectly in the good graces of
Bertha's husband, ventured on a slight falsehood, and added,--
"I remember to have listened one day to his conversation, and I really
thought it below mediocrity."
"It is true that M. de Morville does not pass, they say, for having a
great deal of wit," added the gentle and softly responsive echo,
lowering her large blue eyes, and blushing equally at the falsehood and
at her effort to stoop to a kind of meanness in order to be agreeable to
her husband.
The petty _cause_ contrived to produce its _effect_.
Still retaining the star-ornamented pin in her right hand, Madame de
Hansfeld, as it were, beat on her left hand the measure of the
_crescendo_ of the anger that agitated her, and which included De
Brévannes, Bertha, and the prince.
[Illustration 17: "Paula did not utter a syllabe; she took
the fatal pin and began playing with the ornament."]
At this moment, she again encountered the eyes of Iris, and instead of
turning from the look of the Bohemian, she gazed at her for a moment
with an air so significant, that Iris thought she was about to give her
the pin.
De Brévannes continued, addressing Madame de Hansfeld,--
"But what do you think of M. de Morville, madame? Are we not right to
shew our disgust at the sheepish admiration which makes an idol of such
a nullity?"
"Assuredly, sir," said Paula, "it is quite right not to take men as
always deserving of reputation because they are in repute."
"And never was repute less merited. I am not alone in my opinion, I
assure you. There are many persons who think as I do; and what most
prejudices me against M. de Morville is, that he assumes perfection in
every thing. To hear him one would believe that he rides, handles his
weapons, and shoots better than any man living."
"Is M. de Morville a great shot?" inquired Arnold.
"He at least pretends to be so, as well as every thing else; but I am
sure that he would be found wanting in that as in every thing else, and
he shoots because it is fashionable and not because he cares for it."
"He is wrong," said Arnold, "for shooting is one of the most exciting
amusements I know of."
"Are you a sportsman, sir?" inquired De Brévannes.
"We have such excellent sporting in Germany that it is impossible not to
have a taste for it. There is one class of sport, too, of which I am
passionately fond, and which, perhaps, is not much known in France."
"What sport is that, sir? I can inform you, for I have liked, and still
like, sporting excessively."
"Wild-fowl shooting. We have in Germany such splendid flights of aquatic
birds."
"You like wild-fowl shooting!" exclaimed De Brévannes, after a moment's
reflection, as if a sudden light broke in upon his thoughts.
"To madness, sir! Have you much of this sport in France?"
"Yes we have; and I may add, that I have some of the best in the country
at my house in Lorraine."
"Yes," interposed Bertha, _naïvely_, "and it was only this morning that
M. de Brévannes's steward wrote him word that there was at this time an
extraordinary flight of----I forget the name of these birds," she added,
with a smile.
"_Halbrans_--wild ducks, which come and settle on our lakes in clouds.
And really, sir," continued De Brévannes, "if I was not afraid of
passing for a downright boor, a man who has no idea of ceremony----"
The prince looked at M. de Brévannes with surprise.
"Really, sir," said he, "I do not understand you."
"Well, then, _ma foi_, away with scruple--frankness amongst sportsmen
above every thing. The flight of wild fowl is splendid this year, and it
always lasts a week or ten days. I have four hundred acres of lakes--my
house is well arranged for the winter--will you then allow me to invite
you to come and have a little shooting? In six-and-thirty hours we shall
reach the place; and if, by an unhoped-for chance, Madame de Hansfeld
had no aversion for the country for some few days in the winter season,
Madame de Brévannes would endeavour to make the house as pleasant as
possible to her. You see, sir, when I do a bold thing I do not do it by
halves."
At this sudden and unexpected proposition, so totally unlike received
customs and usages, and which, if accepted by M. de Hansfeld, might have
such terrible results, the princess shuddered.
Bertha turned very red, and trembled, Iris bounded from her chair. De
Hansfeld could scarcely repress his delight; but before he accepted, he
endeavoured (but in vain) to catch Bertha's eye. The young lady dared
not look at him.
Arnold interpreted the negative expression in his favour, and replied,--
"Really, sir, this offer is so considerate, and made with so much good
grace, that I am afraid to let you see all the pleasure it affords me,
if, as you say, between sportsmen one ought always to accept frankly
what is frankly offered."
"You accept them, sir," exclaimed De Brévannes. Then turning towards
Paula: "May I hope, madame, that the example of M. de Hansfeld will
encourage you, however blunt my invitation may appear, however unusual
may be in the middle of winter such a party (I dare not say) of
pleasure? I am sure that Madame de Brévannes would do all in her power
to relieve the long dullness of a few days of solitude in the midst of
our woods."
"Pray believe, madame," said Bertha, in a tremulous voice, "that I
should be very happy if you would condescend to grant us this favour."
"You are a thousand times too good, madame; but I really should fear to
put you to so much inconvenience," said Paula, with inexpressible
anguish. She felt, that on her consent hung the fate of the future to
herself, De Morville, Bertha, and Arnold; for as Iris had anticipated,
without at the same time foreseeing this incident, she felt that events
were hurrying on with fearful rapidity.
"Be generous, madame," said De Brévannes. "We will endeavour to amuse
you; we will have some real ladies' sport. I have good ferrets, and if
you never saw ferreting, it will amuse you greatly. The weather is very
mild this winter, and I can promise you some torchlight fishing. Then I
have a well-stocked preserve of does and kids, and you will see them
caught in the toils. I should say there is nothing barbarous in this,
for the victims are taken alive. I know, madame, that these are but
rustic and simple amusements; but the very contrast they offer with a
Paris life during winter may make them piquant; and then, after having
tried these, you will perhaps find more enjoyment in your return to the
gay pleasures of high society."
"Believe me, sir," replied Paula, with increasing and deeper anxiety,
"this party of pleasure so suddenly proposed would be most agreeable,
for I should thus enjoy the society of Madame de Brévannes: but I
really fear that she only consents to this impromptu journey out of
complaisance to me."
"Oh, no, madame! I assure you I should be highly delighted--have extreme
gratification----"
Again the important _effect_ caused by a petty cause.
Bertha uttered these words with such an expression of pleasure and
joy--the look she exchanged at the moment with Arnold (a look rapidly
intercepted by Paula) betrayed a passion so profound, so ineffable, so
radiant, that all the snakes of envy and rage gnawed at Madame de
Hansfeld's heartstrings.
Paula herself loved with passion, with intoxication, but her love could
never be prosperous. The sight of a happiness which was forbidden her
redoubled her anger. She recalled the almost contemptuous malevolence
with which De Brévannes, De Hansfeld, and Bertha, had spoken of De
Morville, and she included them all three in the same sentiment of hate.
At this moment of intense exasperation, the more violent as it was
repressed, she accepted the offer of De Brévannes, and said to Bertha,
in a voice whose emotion she perfectly controlled,--
"Well, madame, at the risk of being really troublesome, by complying
with your friendly pressing, I accept."
"How kind of you, madame!" was Bertha's reply.
"And when shall we set out, M. de Brévannes?" asked the prince, unable
to conceal his joy. "I shall make quite a fête of my sporting."
"I am at Madame de Hansfeld's order," observed De Brévannes; "only I
would remark, that the rest of birds of passage is usually very brief,
and we ought to reach my house as soon as possible."
"What say you, madame?" inquired De Hansfeld of his wife.
"To-morrow, if that would suit Madame de Brévannes."
"Quite," said De Brévannes. "I and my wife will set out this evening,
and precede you a few hours, so that we may have the pleasure of
awaiting you there."
At this moment Iris arose. This movement reminded Madame de Hansfeld of
all the terrible reality of her position.
A cloud passed before her eyes. Her breath was for an instant stopped by
the violent throbbings of her heart, and she shuddered as if an ice-cold
hand was passing through her hair.
The fatal moment had arrived. She was now to take the first step in the
path of crime.
If she allowed Iris to leave the room without giving her the pin, the
girl was to disclose all to M. de Brévannes, and Paula must renounce
every hope, so near and probable, of marrying De Morville, by profiting
from the double murder of which she would be completely innocent in the
eyes of the world.
Iris, with a little noise, arranged some things on the table in order to
warn her mistress.
Paula still hesitated.
Iris made a step towards the door. A terrible struggle ensued in Madame
de Hansfeld's mind between her good and bad angel.
Iris advanced towards the door, and placed her hand on the lock.
The handle made a noise in turning. Paula's bad angel had the ascendancy
in the struggle. Madame de Hansfeld said, in a tone scarcely audible, so
low, so very low, "Iris!" that it was necessary for all the Bohemian's
attention to the same in order to catch the word.
Iris in two steps approached her mistress.
"Here, go, I beg, and put away this pin," said Paula, in a faint voice.
And she handed the pin to the Bohemian.
Iris, as she touched her mistress's hand to take the jewel, felt it damp
and cold as death.