"Good God! what has happened?"
"My friend," said M. Laubepin, "the contemplated union had every
possible advantage, and it would have without doubt insured the common
happiness of both the parties concerned, if marriage were a purely
commercial partnership; but it is nothing of the sort. As my assistance
had been asked, I thought it my duty to bear in mind the inclination of
the hearts and the agreement of the character just as much as the
relative proportions of the estates. Now, from the first, I had the
impression that the contemplated marriage had one drawback. It pleased
no one, neither my excellent friend Mme. Laroque, nor the amiable
_fiancee_, nor their most sensible friends--no one, in fact, except
perhaps the _fiance_, about whom I trouble myself very slightly. It is
true (I quote here from Mlle. de Porhoet), it is true, I say, that the
_fiance is *gentilhomme_...."
"A _gentleman_, if you please," Mlle. de Porhoet interrupted severely.
"A _gentleman_," continued M. Laubepin, accepting the correction, "but
it is a kind of _gentleman_ I don't care for."
"Nor I," said Mlle. de Porhoet. "There are curious specimens of the
kind. Dissipated stablemen, such as those whom we saw last century
deserting their English stables under the direction of the Duc de
Chartres to come over here and prepare the Revolution."
"Oh, if they had only prepared the Revolution," said M. Laubepin,
sententiously, "we should forgive them."
"A million apologies, my dear sir; but--speak for yourself! Besides,
that is not the question; will you go on?"
"So," continued M. Laubepin, "seeing that every one was approaching this
wedding as if it were a funeral, I searched for some honourable and
legal means, not to break the engagement with M. de Bevallan, but to get
him to withdraw voluntarily. This proceeding was the more justifiable,
as in my absence M. de Bevallan had profited by the inexperience of my
excellent friend, Mme. Laroque, and the weakness of my colleague in the
neighbouring town, to make the most exorbitant demand in his own
interests. Without departing from the wording of the agreements, I
succeeded in materially altering their spirit. But there were limits
which honour and the engagements already entered into forbade me to
pass. And the contract remained favourable enough to be accepted with
confidence by any high-minded man who had a sincere affection for his
betrothed. Was M. de Bevallan such a man? We had to take that risk. I
confess that I was not free from emotion when I began to read the
irrevocable document before an imposing audience this morning."
"As for me," interrupted Mlle. de Porhoet, "I hadn't a drop of blood
left in my veins. The first part of the contract conceded so much to
the enemy that I thought all was lost."
"No doubt, mademoiselle; but, as we augurs say among ourselves, 'the
sting is in the tail,' _in cauda venenum_.
"It was comical, my friend, to see the faces of M. de Bevallan and my
_confrere_ from Rennes, who assisted him, when I suddenly unmasked my
batteries. At first they looked at each other in silence; then they
whispered together; at last they rose, and, coming to the table where I
sat, asked me in a low voice for an explanation.
"'Speak up, gentlemen, if you please,' I said to them. 'We must have no
mysteries here. What have you to say?'
"The company began to prick up their ears. Without raising his voice, M.
de Bevallan suggested to me that the contract showed mistrust.
"'Mistrust, sir!' I replied, in my most impressive tone. 'What do you
intend to convey by that? Do you make that strange imputation against
Mme. Laroque, or against me, or against my _confrere_ here present?'
"'S-s-sh! Silence! No wrangling!' said the Rennes notary discreetly;
'But listen: it was agreed in the first place that the legal system of
dotation should not be insisted on.'
"'The legal system? And where do you find that mentioned?'
"'Oh, my dear sir, you know that you have practically reconstituted it
by a subterfuge.'
"'Subterfuge, monsieur? Allow me, as your senior, to advise you to
withdraw that word from your vocabulary.'
"'But, after all,' murmured M. de Bevallan, 'I'm tied hand and foot, and
treated like a school-boy.'
"'Indeed, sir! What, in your opinion, are we here for at this moment--a
contract or a will? You forget that Mme. Laroque is living; that her
father is living, and that it is a question of marriage, not of
inheritance--at least, not yet.... Really, you must have a little
patience; you must wait a little.'
"At these words Mlle. Marguerite rose.
"'That is enough,' she said.--'M. Laubepin, throw that contract into the
fire. Mother, let this gentleman's presents be returned.'
"Then she rose and left us like an outraged queen. Mme. Laroque
followed her, and at the same time I threw the contract into the
fireplace.
"'Sir,' said M. de Bevallan in a threatening tone, 'there's some
trickery in this, and I will find it out.'
"'Sir,' I replied, 'allow me to explain it to you. A young lady, who,
with a just pride, values herself very highly, feared that your offer
might have been influenced by her wealth; she wished to be certain; she
has no longer any doubts. I have the honour to wish you good-day!'
"Thereupon, my friend, I went after the ladies, and--upon my
honour--they embraced me.
"A quarter of an hour later, M. de Bevallan left the chateau with my
colleague from Rennes. His departure and disgrace have naturally
loosened the servants' tongues, and very soon his imprudent intrigue
with Mlle. Helouin was revealed. The young lady, already suspected on
other grounds for some time past, has asked to be released from her
duties, and the request has been granted. It is needless to say that
our ladies will secure her future.
"Well, my dear fellow, what do you say to all this? Are you worse?
You're as pale as death!"
This unexpected news had aroused so many emotions--pleasant and
painful--that I felt myself on the point of losing consciousness.
M. Laubepin, who has to leave at daybreak to-morrow, came back this
evening to wish me farewell. After some embarrassed remarks from us
both, he said:
"Never mind, my dear boy, I'll not cross-examine you on what is going on
here; but if you should require a confidant and a counsellor, I ask you
to give me the preference."
As a matter of fact, I could not confide in a heart more sympathetic or
more friendly. I gave the worthy old gentleman the particulars of my
relations with Mlle. Marguerite. I even read some pages of this journal
to him to show him more exactly the state of affairs, and also the state
of my heart. I hid nothing from him save M. Laroque's secret.
When I had finished, M. Laubepin, who had suddenly become very
thoughtful, began:
"It is useless to conceal from you, my friend, that when I sent you here
I intended you to marry Mlle. Laroque. At first everything went as I
wished. Your hearts, which I believe are worthy of one another, could
not associate without sympathizing, but this strange event, of which the
tower of Elven was the romantic scene, entirely disconcerts me, I must
confess. Allow me to tell you, my young friend, that to jump out of
window at the risk of breaking your neck was in itself a more than
sufficient proof of your disinterestedness. It was quite superfluous to
add to this honourable and considerate proceeding a solemn oath never to
marry this poor girl except in contingencies we cannot possibly expect
to see realized. I pride myself on being a man of resource--but I fully
recognise that I cannot give you two hundred thousand francs, or take
them away from Mlle. Laroque."
"Then tell me what to do, sir. I have more confidence in you than in
myself, for I see that misfortune, which is always exposed to suspicion,
has made me excessively susceptible on questions of honour. Speak. Do
you counsel me to forget the imprudent but still solemn oath which alone
at this moment separates me from the happiness you had imagined for your
adopted son?"
M. Laubepin rose; his thick eyebrows drawn down over his eyes, he strode
about the room for some minutes, then, stopping in front of me and
seizing my hand, he said:
"Young man, it is true that I love you like my own child; but, even at
the cost of breaking your heart and my own, I will not be false to my
principles. It is better in matters of honour do too much than too
little, and as regards oaths, all those that are not extorted at the
point of the knife or the mouth of a pistol, should either not be taken
or should be kept. That is my opinion."
"It is mine too. I will leave with you to-morrow morning."
"No, Maxime, stay here a little longer. I do not believe in miracles,
but I believe in God, who seldom allows us to be ruined by our virtues.
Give Providence more time. I know that I am asking a very courageous
effort from you, but I claim it formally from your friendship. If
within a month you do not hear from me--well--then you can leave."
He embraced me and left me to my quiet conscience and my desolate heart.
_October 12th_.
It is now two days since I have been able to leave my retirement and
appear at the chateau. I had not seen Mlle. Marguerite since we
separated at the tower of Elven. She was alone in the _salon_ when I
entered. Recognising me, she made--involuntarily--an effort to rise.
Then she sat motionless, and a flood of burning crimson dyed her face.
It was infectious, for I felt that I was blushing to the forehead.
"How are you, M. Odiot?" she said, holding out her hand, and she spoke
these simple words so gently, so humbly--alas! so tenderly too--that I
longed to throw myself on my knees before her. But I had to answer in a
tone of icy politeness. She looked sadly at me, lowered her great eyes
with an air of resignation, and went on with her work.
Almost at the same moment her mother called to her to come to her
grandfather, whose condition had become most alarming. For some days
now he had lost voice and movement; the paralysis was almost total. The
last gleams of mental life were extinguished; only physical sensibility
and the capacity for suffering remained. The end was not far off, but in
this energetic heart life was too deeply rooted to be relinquished
without an obstinate struggle. The doctor had foretold that his agony
would last a long time. Still, at the first appearance of danger, Mme.
Laroque and her daughter had tended him with the passionate
self-sacrifice and utter devotion which are the special virtue and glory
of their sex. The day before yesterday they broke down exhausted. M.
Desmarets and I offered to take their places by M. Laroque to-night, and
they agreed to have a few hours' rest. The doctor, who was very much
fatigued, soon told me that he was going to throw himself on the bed in
the next room.
"I am no use here," he said; "the thing is over. You see the poor old
fellow doesn't suffer any more. That lethargic state is not painful.
The awakening will be death. So we can be quiet. Call me if you see
any change, but I think it won't come till to-morrow. I'm dying for a
sleep."
He gave a great yawn and went out. His language and his conduct before
the dying man had shocked me. He is an excellent man; but to render to
death the respect that is due to it, one must not see only the brute
matter it dissolves, but believe in the immortal essence it releases.
Left alone in the chamber of death, I sat near the foot of the bed,
where the curtains had been withdrawn, and I tried to read by a lamp
that stood on a little table near me. The book slipped from my hands.
I could think only of the strange combination of events which, after so
many years, gave this guilty old man the grandson of his victim as
witness and guardian of his last sleep. Then, in the tranquility of that
hour and place, I recalled, in spite of myself, the scenes of tumult and
bloody violence which had filled the life that was now ebbing away. I
looked for traces of it on the face of the dying old man and on the
large features defined in the shadow with the pale distinctness of a
plaster mask. I saw only the solemnity and premature peace of the tomb.
At intervals I went to the bedside to make sure that the weakened breast
still heaved with vital breath. Towards the middle of the night an
irresistible torpor seized me, and I slept, leaning my forehead on my
hand. Suddenly I was awakened by a strange and sinister sound. I
looked up, and a shudder ran through the marrow of my bones. The old
man was half-sitting up in bed, staring at me with an intent, astonished
look, and an expression of life and intelligence that I had not seen in
him before. When our eyes met he started, stretched out his arms, and
said, in a beseeching voice, whose strange unknown quality almost
stopped the beating of my heart:
"Marquis, forgive me!"
In vain I tried to rise, to speak. I sat petrified in my chair.
After a silence, during which the dying man's eyes were still fixed on
mine beseechingly, he repeated:
"Marquis, deign to forgive me."
At last I summoned up strength to go to him. As I approached he drew
back fearfully, as if shrinking from a dreadful contact. I raised my
hand, and lowering it gently before his staring and terror-stricken
eyes:
"Rest in peace," I said; "I forgive you."
Before I had done speaking, his withered face lighted up with a flash of
joy and youth. Two tears burst from his dry and sunken orbits. He
stretched a hand to me, then suddenly the hand stiffened in a
threatening gesture, and I saw his eyes roll between their dilated lids,
as if a ball had gone through his heart.
"Oh, the English!" he whispered, and immediately fell back on the pillow
like a log. He was dead. I called quickly, and the others came. Soon
he was surrounded by pious mourners, weeping and praying for him. I
retired, my soul deeply moved by this extraordinary scene, which I had
resolved should ever remain a secret between myself and the dead man.
This sad event brought me cares and duties which I needed to justify me
in my own eyes for remaining in the house. I cannot fathom M.
Laubepin's motives for advising me to delay my departure. What did he
hope from it? To me he seems to have yielded to a vague presentiment
and childish weakness, to which a man of his stamp should never have
given way, and to which I also was wrong to submit. Why did he not see
that besides bringing additional suffering on me, he put me in a
position that is neither manly nor dignified? What am I to do here now?
Would they not have good reason to reproach me with trifling with sacred
feelings? My first interview with Mlle. Marguerite had shown me how
hard and how unbearable was the trial to which I had been condemned.
The death of M. Laroque would make our relations easier, and give my
presence a sort of propriety.
_October 26th, Rennes_.
All is over! God, how strong that tie was! How it held my heart, and
how it has torn it as it broke! Yesterday evening about nine, as I
leaned on my open window, I was surprised to see a faint light coming
towards my house through the dark alleys of the park, and from a
direction which the servants at the chateau do not frequent. A moment
afterward there was a knock at my door and Mlle. de Porhoet came in
breathless.
"Cousin," she said, "I have business with you."