"What is the matter?" I said coldly.
She replied with abrupt vehemence: "You paid that man or child,
whichever it was, to shut us up in this wretched tower. To-morrow I
shall be ruined ... my reputation lost ... then I shall have perforce to
belong to you. That was your calculation, wasn't it? But, I warn you,
it will not serve you any better than the rest. You still know me very
little if you think I would not prefer dishonour, the convent, death,
anything, to the vileness of yielding my hand--my life--to yours. And
suppose this infamous trick had succeeded, suppose I had been weak
enough--which of a surety I never shall be--to yield myself, and what
you covet more, my fortune to you, what kind of a man can you be? What
mud are you made of, to desire wealth and a wife by such means? Ah! you
may thank me for not yielding to your wishes. They are imprudent,
believe me; for if ever shame and public ridicule drove me to your arms,
I have such a contempt for you that I would break your heart. Yes, were
it as hard and cold as these stones, I would press blood and tears from
it!"
"Mademoiselle," I said, with all the calm I could command, "I beg you to
return to yourself, to your senses. On my honour I assure you that you
do me injustice. Think for a moment. Your suspicions are quite absurd.
In no possible way could I have accomplished the treachery of which you
accuse me; and even if I could have done so, when have I ever given you
the right to think me capable of it?"
"Everything I know of you gives me this right!" she cried, lashing the
air with her whip. "I will tell you once for all what has been in my
thoughts for a long time. Why did you come into our house under a false
name, in a false character? My mother and I were happy and at peace.
You have brought trouble, anxiety, and sorrow upon us. To attain your
object, to restore your fallen fortunes, you usurped our confidence ...
you destroyed our peace ... you have played with our purest, deepest,
and holiest feelings ... you have bruised and shattered our hearts
without pity. That is what you have done or tried to do, it doesn't
matter which. Well, I am utterly weary of, utterly disgusted with, all
this. I tell you plainly. And when now you offer to pledge your honour
as a gentleman, the honour that has already allowed you to do so many
unworthy things, certainly I have the right not to believe in it--I do
not believe in it."
I lost all control of myself. I seized her hands in a transport of
violence which daunted her. "Marguerite, my poor child, listen. I love
you, it is true, and a love more passionate, more disinterested, more
holy, never possessed the heart of man. But you--you love me too!
Unhappy girl, you love me and you are killing me. You talk of a bruised
and a broken heart. What have you done to mine? But it is yours. I
give it up to you. As for my honour, I keep it ... it is intact, and
before long I shall compel you to acknowledge this. And on that honour
I swear that if I die, you will weep for me; that if I live--worshipped
though you are--never, never, were you on your knees before me, would I
marry you unless you were as poor as I, or I as rich as you. And now
pray! pray! Ask God for a miracle; it is time!"
Then I pushed her roughly far from the embrasure, and sprang on to the
highest step. A desperate idea had come to me. I carried it out with
the precipitation of positive madness. As I have said, the tops of the
beeches and oaks that grew in the moat were on the level of the window.
With my bent whip I drew the ends of the nearest branches to me, seized
them at random, and let myself drop into the void. I heard my
name--"Maxime!"--uttered with a wild cry above my head. The branches I
held bent their full length towards the abyss; there was an ominous
crack, and they broke under my weight. I fell heavily on the ground.
The muddy nature of the soil must have deadened the shock, for I felt
that I was alive, though a good deal hurt. One of my arms had struck
the stonework of the moat, and I was in such pain that I fainted.
Marguerite's despairing voice recalled me to myself.
"Maxime! Maxime!" she cried, "for pity's sake, for God's sake, speak to
me! Forgive me!"
I got up and saw her in the bay of the window, standing in an aureole of
pale light, her head bare, her hair loose, her hands grasping the bar of
the cross, while her glowing eyes searched the dark abyss.
"Don't be alarmed," I said; "I'm not hurt. Only be patient for an hour
or two. Give me time to get to the chateau--that is the best place to
go. You may be sure I shall keep your secret and save your honour, as I
have just saved my own."
I scrambled painfully out of the moat and went to look for my horse. I
used my handkerchief as a sling for my left arm, which was quite
disabled and gave me great pain. The night was clear and I found the
way easily. An hour later I was at the chateau. They told me that Dr.
Desmarets was in the drawing-room. I hurried there and found him and a
dozen others, all looking anxious and alarmed.
"Doctor," I said lightly as I came in, "my horse shied at his own shadow
and came down in the road. I think my left arm is put out. Will you
see?"
"Eh, what?--put out?" said M. Desmarets, after he had removed the
handkerchief. "Your arm's broken, my poor boy."
Mme. Laroque started up with a little scream and came towards me.
"It seems we are to have an evening of misfortunes," she said.
"What else has happened?" I asked, as if surprised.
"I am afraid my daughter must have had an accident. She went out on
horseback about three; it is now eight, and she has not returned!"
"Mlle. Marguerite? Why, I met her..."
"Met her? When? Where? Forgive a mother's selfishness, M. Odiot."
"Oh, I met her on the road, about five. She told me she thought of
going as far as the tower of Elven."
"The tower of Elven! She has lost her way in the woods. We must send
at once and search."
M. de Bevallan ordered horses to be got ready immediately. At first I
pretended that I meant to be of the party, but Mme. Laroque and the
doctor would not hear of it. Without much trouble I was persuaded to
take to my bed, which, truth to tell, I needed badly. M. Desmarets
attended to my arm, and then drove away with Mme. Laroque, who was to
await the result of the search inaugurated by M. de Bevallan at the
village of Elven.
About ten o'clock Alain came to tell me that Mlle. Marguerite had been
found. He related the story of her imprisonment without omitting any
details, except, of course, those known only to me and the young girl.
The news was soon confirmed by the doctor, and afterwards by Mme.
Laroque, and I had the satisfaction of seeing that no one suspected what
had actually occurred.
I passed the night in repeating the dangerous leap from the window of
the donjon with all the grotesque complications of fever and delirium.
I did not get used to it. Every moment the sensation of falling through
emptiness caught me by the throat, and I awoke breathless. At last day
came, and I got calm. At eight o'clock Mlle. de Porhoet came in and
took her place at my bedside with her knitting in her hand. She did the
honours of my room to the visitors who followed one another throughout
the day. Mme. Laroque was the first after my old friend. As she held
my hand and pressed it earnestly I saw tears on her face. Has her
daughter confided in her?
Mlle. de Porhoet told me that old M. Laroque had been confined to his
bed since yesterday. He had a slight attack of paralysis. To-day he
cannot speak, and they are much alarmed about him. The marriage is to
be hastened. M. Laubepin has been sent for from Paris; he is expected
to-morrow, and the contract will be signed the following day, under his
direction.
I have been able to sit up for some hours this evening, but, according
to M. Desmarets, I should not have written while the fever was on me,
and I am a great idiot.
_October 3d_.
Really it seems as if some malign power were hard at work devising the
strangest and most cruel tests for my conscience and heart alternately.
M. Laubepin not having arrived this morning, Mme. Laroque has asked me
to give her some of the information necessary for drawing up the general
conditions of the contract, which is to be signed to-morrow. As I am
obliged to keep my room for some days yet, I asked Mme. Laroque to send
me the title-deeds and private documents in her father-in-law's
possession, as they were indispensable for the clearing up of the points
she had mentioned to me.
Very soon they brought me two or three drawers full of papers which they
had taken out of M. Laroque's cabinet while he was asleep, for the old
gentleman would never let any one touch his secret archives. On the
first paper that I took up I saw my family name repeated several times.
My curiosity was irresistibly aroused. Here is the literal text of the
document: