GOUTRAN AND CARMEN.
Goutran was really in love, although for a time his attention had been
distracted by the strange affair of Jane Zeld. But now that calm was in
a measure restored, Goutran thought of Carmen with quickened pulse. He
no longer hesitated. He resolved to write to a millionaire uncle of his
who spent his last days hunting wolves in the Ardennes, and beg him to
come up and lay his proposal before the banker. He told Esperance what
he meant to do, and the Vicomte encouraged the plan.
When he had come to this conclusion, he was astonished to find that the
same indecision again attacked him. Why did he hesitate? He would have
been at a loss to say. He determined, however, on one of two things,
either to ask Carmen's hand or never see her again. He had been with
Esperance for forty-eight hours, encouraging him and ministering to
Jane, and now he felt the need of fresh air. He walked toward Saint
Cloud, softly saying to himself among the green trees:
"I love her! I love her!"
On his return the decision was made. He would write to his uncle the
next day. As he entered the hotel, the concierge said to him
mysteriously:
"There was a lady here, sir."
"A lady! What lady?"
"Ah! sir, that I can't say. My discretion was too great to permit me to
ask her name. I think she is young and pretty, though she was heavily
vailed. She asked for you, and when I told her you were out she looked
embarrassed, and finally drew from her pocket a little note which she
had prepared. She gave it to me, saying it was very urgent."
"A note! Where is it? You should have given it to me at once."
"Oh! it is safe, sir, in my davenport."
A concierge with a davenport! What is the world coming to, thought
Goutran.
Finally the good man produced the paper in question, rose colored and
perfumed. Goutran tore it open, but did not read it until he reached his
own room. The address was in delicate, long letters, the result of
lessons from an English master. Who could have sent it? He did not know
the writing. But when he glanced at the signature he with difficulty
refrained from a cry of surprise. The note was signed, "Carmen de
L----." These were its contents:
"MONSIEUR GOUTRAN--or will you allow me to call you my friend--I must
see you at once on matters of vast importance. To-night, at eleven
o'clock, I shall expect you. Ring at the side door of the hotel; my
maid will be in attendance. Do not fail, for you and those you love
are in danger."
Goutran was amazed. What did these mysterious lines mean? And of whom
did Carmen speak when she said "those you love"? He was greatly
disturbed, but he was not the man to hesitate.
At ten o'clock he was already walking up and down a street which
commanded a view of the Hotel Laisangy, but he felt none of the emotion
natural to a lover going to a rendezvous. He had a feeling of strange
oppression. Finally the clock struck eleven. The side door was on the
Rue Saint Honore. Goutran was about to ring the bell, when the door was
opened and a hand was laid on his.
"Come this way," said a woman's voice.
It was the curious maid whom we have already seen. She was enchanted,
feeling sure that it was a lover she admitted. The stairs were carpeted
and dimly lighted. Presently he entered Carmen's boudoir, but she was
not there.
"I will notify the young lady," said the maid, with one of those knowing
smiles that tell so much.
Goutran was standing with his hat in his hand when Carmen entered. She
was very simply dressed in black. Her beautiful face was very pale. Her
blonde hair looked like burnished gold. She extended her hand as he
advanced with a profound bow.
"Many thanks," she said, "for having come. I hardly dared expect you."
"Why did you doubt me? Did you suppose that I could be deaf to such a
mark of confidence?"
Carmen smiled sadly.
"Yes," she said, "I do feel entire confidence in you, a confidence that
is most real."
She seated herself and motioned him to a chair, and with her large eyes
fixed on her companion, was silent for a minute. At last she said,
abruptly:
"Monsieur Goutran, do you love me?"
At this most unexpected question, Goutran started.
"Yes," he answered, gravely. "I love you, and I feel a devotion for you
which is, perhaps, better than love."
Carmen's long lashes rested on her burning cheeks.
"Your words are sweeter to me than you can well imagine. By and by you
will understand me better. I need your affection, and I need your
assistance, but I am about to put your interest in me to a very severe
test."
"You have but to express your wishes," said Goutran.
Carmen waited. Evidently she had not strength to go on with her
explanation.
"Listen to me," she resumed. "I owe you a declaration which will remove
every possibility of a misunderstanding between us. A few days ago, when
on the terrace of your house my hands rested in yours, I fully realized
that, so far as you were concerned, a tacit engagement from that moment
existed between us."
"From that moment," interrupted Goutran, "I felt that if you would
accept my hand and name----"
"And yet you did not apply to Monsieur Laisangy?" said Carmen, gently.
"Did you doubt me? I did not dare."
"And you were right, for, Monsieur Goutran, I can never be your wife!"
Goutran rose quickly.
"Was it to break my heart that you summoned me here to-night?" he cried.
"I can never be your wife," repeated Carmen, "because only an unstained
woman should bear your name!"
Goutran turned deadly pale.
"And I," she continued, "am not such a woman!"
"Ah! Mademoiselle, I cannot understand you."
"Listen to me. Every word I speak I have thoroughly weighed, and I
understand my duty. I hope my frankness will at least win your esteem,
and possibly your pity."
"My pity! Ah! Carmen, for God's sake do not say such things!"
"I have not finished. Goutran, I love you, deeply and sincerely. Your
character, your talents, all inspire me, for the first time in my life,
with those sentiments which tend to elevate us. Before knowing you I
passed through life knowing little, and caring little, of what was right
or what was wrong."
Tears were now pouring down her cheeks.
"I am not the daughter," she sobbed, "I am not the daughter, I am the
friend, of Monsieur de Laisangy!"
A pained exclamation broke from Goutran's breast, and he hid his face in
his hands. He felt as if a dagger had struck him in the heart.
"Yes," continued Carmen, with a smile of contempt, "this old man, for
reasons of his own, insisted on my bearing his name. Do not condemn me
too greatly," she continued, "I was not sixteen when I fell into the
trap that this man laid for me. Think of it!"
"The miserable scoundrel!"
"Yes, he ruined me, body and soul! All the finer instincts of my nature
he sneered at. He taught me to despise everything--himself, myself! For
five long years I endured this martyrdom. When we reached Paris, he
added another wrong to those he had already inflicted on me. He
compelled me to profane the sacred name of father, and yet I did not
realize my shame until the day I met you. I sat to you for my portrait,
and as you talked I felt a whole new world opening before me. I knew
then, for the first time, that I was unworthy of the love of an honest
man. Ah! Goutran, how I have suffered in loving you!"
And the poor girl sank on her knees, a very Magdalen.
Goutran laid his hand on her head.
"Carmen, these avowals prove to me that I was not wrong in thinking you
the best and the most adorable woman in the world!"
"You do not loathe me, then?"
"Have I any right to be your judge? I have certainly received a sad
shock."
He lifted her to a chair.
"If you have made me this terrible confidence it is because you wish to
give me a proof of your great confidence in me. I shall be worthy of
it, be sure of that. And now, tell me what you wish."
Carmen lifted her sad eyes to his.
"How good you are!" she said, quietly. "But you are right. Now you will
not doubt my motives nor me?"
"I swear that I will believe every syllable you utter!"
Carmen, after a few moments' consideration, said:
"You are very fond of this young Monte-Cristo?"
"Certainly I am. He is one of the noblest fellows I ever met. But why do
you speak of him?"
"Because it was to speak of him that I summoned you here to-night. Your
friend, Goutran, is in great danger, as are you--and myself, too."
"Danger!"
"We must find some means of avoiding it, but your enemies----"
"I have no enemies!"
"Yes, and Monsieur de Laisangy is one of them."
"That scoundrel!"
"Yes, and he is worse than I supposed, and the other foe is--but did you
notice an Italian here, the secretary of the Italian Count?"
"Yes--his name was Fagiano."
"He calls himself Fagiano, but that is not his real name."
"Who is he, then?"
"I cannot say. But listen. For some time I have hated and loathed
Laisangy. I felt that he was a greater criminal towards others than
myself, and as my conscience began to stir, I felt my suspicions daily
increase. At your _soiree_ I noticed that this man whom I called father
started and turned pale when he heard the name of Monte-Cristo, and then
he invented some pretext to leave the room."
"I remember," said Goutran.
"Then, when we were on the terrace--" Carmen hesitated. There were
memories connected with that terrace which she did not care to approach.
Goutran said, kindly:
"Go on, dear child."
"I do not know if you remember as well as myself a dispute which we, in
a measure, overheard. I recognized Laisangy's voice, and the
disconnected words confirmed my suspicions. Early the next morning I
sent for him and questioned him very closely, and in a most peremptory
manner. In the midst of our animated discussion a card was brought in.
This Signor Fagiano had called to see Monsieur de Laisangy.
"I heard no more of him, saw no more of him, until yesterday, when, as I
entered the hotel, I saw Fagiano coming in. I at once ran into
Laisangy's private office, and reached it first, where I hid in a
closet, ready to listen to every word. Do not reprove me. All means are
lawful when dangers threaten those you love, and some instinct taught me
that I should learn something of you and the Vicomte."
Goutran kissed Carmen's hand as his sole reply.
"The two men came in a moment or two, and I at once learned from the
first words they uttered that they were associates in some crime. What
it is I know not, but Fagiano said:
"'I have done it, and now our vengeance is certain. But I need money.'
"'I have already told you that I would give it to you. Here is what you
want. And now, what do you mean to do?'
"'She is in my power now, and I shall soon have him, too.'
"'No imprudence! We must not be compromised.'
"'I am hardly foolish enough for that. I will torture Monte-Cristo's
son, but not in a way that the law can reach!'
"'Let him be tortured! Let him pay for all the agony his father has
inflicted on me!'
"'You shall be satisfied!'
"The two men then walked away still talking, but in such low voices that
I could not hear. I rushed from my hiding-place and hastened to my room.
I had learned little, it is true; but what I heard had opened wide and
fearful possibilities. I knew Monsieur de Laisangy, and knew that he
would stop at nothing. It would be useless for me to interfere openly,
and then I thought of you."
"And you we're right in sending for me. In your recital, however, there
are many points that are obscure. Thank you for warning me. You asked
me, a few moments since, if I loved Esperance. I look upon him as my
brother, and I would give my life to spare him a pang."
"But of whom did the man speak when he said, '_she_ is in my power'?"
"I do not venture to say; but in an hour we shall know."
The young man turned toward the door. Carmen came to his side and gave
him her hand. He drew her to his breast.
"You have hurt me, Carmen, but I respect you more than ever, and I love
you!"
"Ah!" she said, passionately, "those words from your lips have made me
your slave. I belong to you from this moment! I will mount guard over
the enemy, and we will work together!"