A GLORIOUS DREAM.
On the day following this conference in the Rochaigue family, three
important scenes took place in the homes of as many different persons.
The first occurred in the house of Abbe Ledoux, the priest we saw
administering the last sacrament to Madame de Beaumesnil.
The abbe was a small man, with an insinuating smile, a sharp,
penetrating eye, ruddy complexion, and gray hair.
He was pacing his bedroom in a restless, agitated manner, glancing every
now and then at the clock, and seemed to be waiting for some one.
Suddenly the sound of the door-bell was heard; the door opened, and a
servant, who looked very much like a sacristan, announced:
"M. Celestin de Macreuse."
This pious founder of the St. Polycarpe mission was a tall, rather stout
young man with excellent manners, rather faded light hair, regular
features, and fine complexion. In fact, he might easily have passed for
a handsome man, had it not been for the expression of treacherous
sweetness and extreme self-complacency that characterised his
countenance.
When he entered the room M. de Macreuse kissed Abbe Ledoux in a
Christianlike manner on both cheeks, and the abbe returned the salute in
the same apostolic fashion.
"You have no idea how impatiently I have been waiting for you, my dear
Celestin," he said.
"There was a meeting at the mission to-day, M. l'abbe, and a very stormy
meeting it was. You cannot conceive what a blind spirit of rebellion
those miserable creatures display. Ah, how much suffering is needed to
make these coarse natures understand how essential to their salvation is
the poverty in which they are now living! But no, instead of being
content with a chance of salvation, instead of living with their gaze
directed heavenward, they persist in keeping their eyes on their earthly
surroundings, in comparing their condition with that of more favoured
mortals, and in prating of their right to employment and to happiness.
To happiness! What heresy! It is truly disheartening!"
The abbe listened to Celestin's tirade with a half smile, thinking the
while of the pleasant surprise he had in store for his visitor.
"And what do you suppose has been going on while you were talking wisdom
to those miserable wretches down there, my dear Celestin?" asked the
abbe. "I have been talking to Mlle. de la Rochaigue about you. Another
subject of conversation, too, was the arrival of the little Beaumesnil."
"What!" exclaimed M. de Macreuse, colouring with surprise and delight,
"do you mean to say that Mlle. de Beaumesnil--"
"Returned to Paris last evening."
"And Mlle. de la Rochaigue?"
"Is still of the same mind in regard to you,--ready to do anything, in
fact, to prevent this immense fortune from falling into evil hands. I
saw the dear lady this morning; we have decided upon our course of
action, and it will be no fault of ours if you do not marry Mlle. de
Beaumesnil."
"Ah, if that glorious dream is ever realised it will be to you that I
shall owe this immense, this incalculable fortune!" exclaimed M. de
Macreuse, seizing the abbe's hands and pressing them fervently.
"It is thus that pious young men who are living examples of all the
Christian virtues are rewarded in this day and generation," answered the
abbe, jovially.
"And such a fortune! Such a golden future! Is it not enough to dazzle
any one?" cried Celestin, with an expression of intense cupidity on his
face.
"How ardently the dear boy loves money," said the abbe, with a paternal
air, pinching Celestin's plump cheek as he spoke. "Well, we must do our
very best to secure it for him, then. Unfortunately, I could not
persuade that hard-headed Madame de Beaumesnil to make a will
designating you as her daughter's future husband. If she had done that
we should not have had the slightest trouble. Armed with this request of
a dying mother, Mlle. de la Rochaigue and I could have appealed to the
girl, who would have consented to anything out of respect for her
mother's memory. It would have been a fine thing; besides, there could
have been no opposition then, you see, but of course that is not to be
thought of now."
"And why is it not to be thought of?" asked M. de Macreuse, with some
hesitation, but looking the abbe straight in the eye.
That gentleman returned the gaze with the same intentness.
Celestin averted his eyes, but it was with a faint smile that he
replied:
"When I said that it might not be absolutely necessary for us to
renounce the assistance of such a statement of Madame de Beaumesnil's
wishes--"
"In writing?" demanded the abbe, casting down his eyes in his turn,
before the bold assent Celestin's look conveyed.
There was a moment's silence, after which the abbe said, as calmly as if
no such incident had interrupted the conversation:
"Consequently, we must begin a new campaign, Circumstances favour us;
besides, we are the first in the field, the baron and his wife having no
one in view as yet; at least, Mlle. de Rochaigue, who is entirely
devoted to us, says so. As for her brother and his wife, they are
extremely selfish and avaricious persons, so it is quite possible that,
if we seem likely to succeed, they will side with us, that is, if they
feel that it will be to their interest to do so. But we must first place
ourselves in a position that will enable us to make our own terms."
"And when, and in what way, am I to make Mlle. de Beaumesnil's
acquaintance, my dear abbe?"
"We have not yet decided that very important question. A formal
introduction is evidently out of the question, as the baron and his wife
would be sure to suspect our intentions. Besides, a slight air of
mystery and secrecy would be much more likely to excite Mlle. de
Beaumesnil's curiosity and interest. It is necessary, too, if we wish to
produce the best possible effect, that this introduction should be
managed with an eye to the young girl's character."
Celestin cast a glance of mingled surprise and inquiry at his companion.
"So you had better allow us to attend to all that," continued the abbe,
in a tone of affectionate superiority. "We understand human nature
thoroughly. From what I have been able to learn, the little Beaumesnil
must be exceedingly religious and devout. It is also an excellent thing
to know that Mlle. de Beaumesnil has a decided preference for the altar
of Mary--a very natural predilection in a young girl."
"Permit me to interrupt you an instant, my dear abbe," said Celestin,
hastily.
"What is it, my dear boy?"
"M. and Madame de la Rochaigue are not very regular in the performance
of their religious duties, but Mlle. Helena never misses a service."
"That is true."
"It will be only natural, then, that she should take Mlle. de Beaumesnil
to the Church of St. Thomas d'Aquin, that being the church she always
attends."
"Evidently."
"It would be well, then, for her to perform her devotions at the altar
of the Virgin, where she will also conduct her young friend to-morrow
morning at nine o'clock. I would also suggest that the ladies take their
places to the left of the altar."
"To the left of the altar! and why, Celestin?"
"Because I shall be performing my devotions at the same altar."
"Excellent!" cried the abbe, "no better plan could be devised. Mlle.
Helena shall call the girl's attention to you, and you will make an
admirable impression from the very first. A very clever idea, my dear
Celestin, a very clever idea!"
"Don't give me the credit of it, my dear abbe," replied Celestin, with
ironical modesty. "Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's."
"And to what Caesar am I to attribute this admirable idea for a first
interview?"
"To the author of these lines, my dear abbe." And in a sardonic tone, M.
de Macreuse repeated:
"'Ah, if you had but seen him as I first saw him,
You would feel for him the same fondness that I feel.
Each day to church he came with gentle air,
To kneel devoutly right before me,
And attracted the gaze of all assembled there,
By the sincerity and ardour of his prayer.'
"You see everything has been planned for me, even to offering the holy
water on leaving the church," added Macreuse. "And yet, people persist
in declaring that the writings of this impious playwright are immoral
and reprehensible."
"That's pretty good, upon my word!" cried the abbe, laughing heartily.
"Well, Heaven speed the good cause, whatever may be the weapons used!
You have everything to hope for, my dear Celestin. You are clever and
persevering, and more likely to make a favourable impression on the
orphan than any one I know. I would advise, however, that you be
extremely careful about your dress. Let it be rich, but not gaudy, and
characterised always by that elegant simplicity which is the perfection
of good taste. Let me look at you a minute, Yes," continued the abbe,
after scrutinising the young man closely for a moment, "you had better
give a slight wave to your hair instead of wearing it smooth. It takes
something more than fine talk to captivate a young girl's fancy."
"Oh, you need feel no uneasiness, my dear abbe, I understand all those
little matters. I know, too, that the greatest victories are often won
by trivial means. And success in this instance means the most delightful
and blissful future of which man ever dreamed," exclaimed Celestin, his
eyes sparkling joyously.
"And you will attain this success, for all the resources at our
disposal--and they are immense--will be employed, if need be."
"Ah, my indebtedness to you will be immeasurable."
"And your success will not benefit you alone!"
"What do you mean by that, my dear abbe?"
"I mean that your success will have an enormous, an incalculable
influence. Yes, all those fine young gentlemen who pose as freethinkers,
all the lukewarm, all the indifferent, who uphold us but weakly, will
see what one gains by being with us, for us, and of us. These advantages
have also been demonstrated to some extent, I think, by the very
enviable position--especially for one of your years and of--of
your--obscure birth--" added the abbe, blushing a little, and Celestin
somehow seemed to share this embarrassment.
"So, my dear Celestin," the priest continued, "while envious and
insolent aristocrats squander their wealth and their health in vile
orgies and senseless dissipation, you, my dear child,--come from nobody
knows where, aided and pushed forward by nobody knows whom,--will
quietly make your way in the world, and soon every one will be petrified
with amazement at your marvellous good fortune."
"Ah, my dear abbe, you may rest assured that my gratitude--"
But the abbe again interrupted him by saying, with a peculiar smile:
"Do not persist in talking of your gratitude. No one has a chance to be
ungrateful to us. We are not children; we take our precautions; besides,
our best guarantee is the love and good-will of those who are indebted
to us."
And the abbe, again pinching the young man's ear in a paternal way,
continued:
"Now let me mention another no less important matter. You know the
saying, 'He who hears only one bell hears but one note.' You may rest
assured that Mlle. Helena will descant eloquently upon your many virtues
to the little Beaumesnil. Your goodness, your piety, the angelic
sweetness of your face, the dignified modesty of your demeanour, will be
her constant theme. She will do everything she can to make the girl fall
madly in love with you; but it would be an excellent thing if these
praises were echoed by somebody else, and particularly if they were
repeated by persons of such prominence that the words would exert a
great influence upon the mind of the little Beaumesnil."
"That would be a great help, I admit, my dear abbe."
"Let us see, then, my dear Celestin. Among your fashionable friends is
there no lady who could be entrusted with this delicate mission? How
about Madame de Francville?"
"She is too silly."
"Madame de Bonrepos, then?"
"She is too indiscreet and too garrulous."
"Madame Lefebure?"
"She is too much of a plebeian. There is but one lady upon whose
friendship and discretion I can rely sufficiently to make such a
request," continued Celestin, after quite a long pause. "That is Madame
la Duchesse de Senneterre."
"And you couldn't possibly do better, for the duchess has an immense
amount of influence in society," said the abbe, thoughtfully. "I think,
too, that you are not mistaken in your assertion, for I have heard her
praise you very warmly on several occasions, and have even heard her
express great regret that her son Gerald was not more like you."
On hearing Gerald's name, M. de Macreuse's face darkened ominously, and
it was in a tone of positive hatred that he exclaimed:
"That man insulted me before everybody not very long ago. I will have my
revenge, you may be sure of that."
"My dear boy, did you never hear the Roman proverb, 'Vengeance should be
eaten cold.' It is a true one. My advice to you is to remember--and
wait. Haven't you a good deal of influence over his mother already?"
"Yes," replied Celestin, "and the longer I think about it, the more
convinced I am that it is to Madame de Senneterre that I ought to apply
in this matter. I have had convincing proof of the interest she takes in
me more than once; and the confidence I now show in her will please her,
I am sure. I will consult with her, too, I think, as to the best means
of establishing friendly relations between her and Mlle. de Beaumesnil.
That will be a comparatively easy matter, I think."
"In that case, you had better see the duchess as soon as possible,"
replied the abbe.
"It is only half past twelve," said Celestin, glancing at the clock,
"and Madame de Senneterre is generally at home to her intimate friends
from one to two o'clock. I will go there at once."
"On your way you had better consider well if any inconveniences are
likely to result from these overtures on your part. I can see only
advantages."
"It is the same with me. Nevertheless, I will think the matter over. As
for the rest, that is decided, you know. To-morrow morning at nine
o'clock, a little to the left of the altar, in the Chapel of the Virgin,
in the Church of St. Thomas d'Aquin, remember."
"That is understood," answered the abbe. "I will go and inform Mlle.
Helena of our arrangements. She will be at the chapel with Mlle. de
Beaumesnil to-morrow morning at nine o'clock. I can vouch for that. Now
go at once to Madame de Senneterre's. You have no time to lose."
So, after an affectionate leave-taking, Celestin hastened to the Hotel
de Senneterre.