It is very rarely, indeed, I believe, that human beings become, even
by long habit, so hardened in evil as to commit crimes deliberately,
without some shrinking reluctance, without some moments of hesitation
and dismay. The voice of conscience may be reduced to a whisper; but
still, if an interval of silence occurs in the tumult of the passions,
that whisper is heard. If unattended to for reformation of purpose, it
does, indeed, but serve to irritate the guilty mind to more culpable
excess; for conscience, by those who are resolute in wickedness, is
soon ranked amongst their enemies, as one of those to be overcome by
the more vehement opposition; and in its defiance they go beyond even
the point they at first desired, as a fierce and hard-mouthed horse
leaps much farther than is necessary to clear an opposing fence.
As Madame de Chazeul walked to her room with her brother, a momentary
glimpse, a vision as in a dream, a picture like the scene of a play,
presented itself to her all at once, of the complicated intrigue in
which she had involved herself, the difficulties which awaited her
whichever way she turned, the consequences of the deceits she had
practised, their ultimate exposure, and the contempt and suspicion
which might follow her after-life, from the discovery of all the
falsehoods she had told, and all the arts she had had recourse to.
For a single instant the question shot across her mind, like a flash
of lightning, "If men will so judge me, how will judge me, God?" But
that gleam of awful light she crushed out, in an instant, like a dying
spark in a mass of tinder; and to all the rest she had a ready, and to
her convincing, answer, "I shall have triumphed! That is enough!
Success is justification!"
Hers was the philosophy of a great modern usurper, applied to domestic
life; and the springs which moved her in many of her proceedings, were
not very different from his own.
The next consideration was the government of her brother; and step by
step, through the hall and up the stairs, the incredible rapidity of
thought brought her to new conclusions; not a footfall but had its
thousand questions and replies in her own breast, its examination of
plans and results, its calculations of character, its meditation of
weakness, and its application of the means to the end. Half a lifetime
was spent between the court and her own apartments--I mean thoughts
that would have filled half a lifetime better disposed; but when she
reached her own door, her mind was calm and clear; and she entered
with the full assurance of overruling all opposition, extinguishing
all suspicion, working out her own schemes, in despite of every
combination of circumstances against her, ay! and of taking revenge,
and closing the tomb over one of the chief sources of doubt and
anxiety for the future.
The large ante-room in which her maids slept was vacant, for they were
engaged with their mistress's dress in the chamber beyond; and with a
smiling countenance, as if all memory of the ceremony just past, had
left her on the staircase, she invited her brother with somewhat
formal courtesy to be seated, closed the door, and then began, without
waiting to be questioned.
"Well, Anthony," she said; "I thought _I_ knew every turn and wile of
a woman's heart.--I have a good right to know; for I do not think
there are many women who have dealt more in matters of policy, public
and private, than I have done;" she added these words in a tone of gay
candor, which she knew would not be without its effect. "But yet I
have found one to go beyond me: and, for a time, to overpower me--till
I discovered the truth. When I went from you to Rose d'Albret, I found
her in a high and haughty mood, ready to treat remonstrance with
contempt, and evidently wishing to be pressed, if not forced, so that
she might cast any blame in point of haste on us, and justify herself.
Her conduct and her tone provoked me,--foolishly I will allow, and I
did,--sillily enough--what I ought not to have done. I told her of the
discovery we have made, of Chazeul's visit to her chamber--which I
should have studiously avoided; but I was off my guard--"
"I do not see that," said Monsieur de Liancourt: "why should you have
avoided it? I should tell her the first thing, as the motive which
made me urge the marriage upon her."
"Ay! that is very well for you, brother," replied Madame de Chazeul,
"but you stood in a different position. You have a right, not only to
speak such truths, but to command the only conduct which can take away
the sting from them. I should have remembered that, for me to show I
knew the fact, would but irritate her to resistance and denial, and to
efforts for her exculpation, even to resistance, of the only remedy
for the evil situation in which she has placed herself; just as mad
people deny they are insane, and refuse the medicines which might
soothe their brains. In an instant, she had a story ready. She had not
slept in that room, she said; and gave me to understand that she had
passed the night in the adjoining chamber. Seeing the error I had
committed, I replied, that it might be so, but that the injury to her
reputation was the same, and that the only remedy for that was her
immediate marriage with my son."
"In which chamber did she say she slept?" demanded the Count.
But Madame de Chazeul did not wish to be brought to the point, and
replied, "I do not well know; there is one on the right, and one on
the left, you know. However, I told her that you took the same view
that I did; and that you had sworn, in the most solemn manner, she
should be Chazeul's wife before noon to-day."
"Did I swear?" asked Monsieur de Liancourt, in a low voice.
"As solemnly as ever man swore," replied the Marchioness; "you called
heaven to witness; you vowed a vow to God; and that seemed to move her
more than anything; indeed, it appeared that she was just going to
say, when she found you were so resolute, that she was prepared to
obey, when the door opened, and in walked,--who think you?"
"Nay, I cannot divine," said Monsieur de Liancourt; "not De Montigni?"
"No! no!" answered Madame de Chazeul; "it would take longer for a
ghost to travel post from Chartres; and he is dead beyond all doubt
No,--who but Helen de la Tremblade."
"Ah! poor little Helen! I shall be, glad to see her," cried the Count;
"she has not been here for three months or more; nay, it was in
October, well nigh six months, upon my life."
"And in those six months, what events have happened," exclaimed Madame
de Chazeul, "to blast all our regard for her, to show her the
veriest--but I will not give her the name she deserves. Suffice it, my
dear brother, that not long ere I came hither, I found, by letters I
discovered, that I had been nourishing a serpent in my house. I found
her base, unworthy--impure, ambitious, scheming.--Sickened and
indignant, I gave way, as I am too apt, to the fierce burst of
passion; for I can never conceal what I feel; and drove her out to
carry her schemes and vices elsewhere. But I speedily repented; and
sent out to seek her, intending to treat her kindly, and, if I could
not forgive her faults, to put her in the way of repentance and
atonement: but she had gone off at once; and has since come hither,
when, or how long ago, I know not. She has evidently been here in
secret, however, for some time, prompting Rose to all this resistance,
prejudicing her mind against Chazeul, whom the vain girl thought to
wed herself, and inspiring her with continual schemes for thwarting
our purposes. She had clearly heard all that had passed between me and
Mademoiselle d'Albret; and when she found Rose was beginning to yield,
as I showed her how resolute you are, forth she came to dare me,
thinking that she could frighten me by her influence over her uncle,
and her threats.--I believe she would have struck me had she dared;
but I taught her, I was not to be intimidated, laughed her menaces to
scorn, and gave her to understand that I would now expose all to you,
though I had hitherto carefully concealed her guilt and folly from all
ears--even from her uncle's. It was wonderful to see how the girl's
daring spirit was cowed before a little firmness, how she shrunk and
quailed. She would have fled, indeed, perhaps to brew new mischief;
but I resolved that should not be; and, like one of the men who tame
the Lions at the Louvre, I assumed a commanding tone, and ordered her
to retire into her uncle's chamber, fully resolved not to let her
forth till the marriage is over. It was then that she tried to run
past me; but I called loudly for my people, and finding it in vain to
resist, she obeyed, though sullenly and gloomily."
"To the priest's chamber!" said Monsieur de Liancourt. "Will not all
this rouse good father Walter? Why, there was noise enough to wake the
dead."
"Oh! no!" replied the Marchioness, who had foreseen that such a
question might be put, and was prepared with an answer. "It would have
roused him, certainly, if he had been in his own chamber; but he was
so faint and ill, with long watching, doubtless, fasting and prayer,
that the people who were with him took him first into the sacristy,
and then to a room on the ground floor, rather than carry him up
stairs. There he sleeps quietly, and, doubtless, will awake quite
refreshed and well. I only dread having to tell him this story of his
niece, for I do not think he knows it yet. She looks very ill, poor
wretch; and I should not wonder if her violent temper killed her; but,
if possible, I will still keep the matter secret from all but her
uncle."
"Do, do," replied the Count; "her violent temper! Why, she was the
most gentle and timid of creatures, Jacqueline."
"Ay, so she seemed," replied Madame de Chazeul; "but vice and ambition
have brought forth the natural character: and, if you had seen her
just now, you would not have said that she was gentle. I thought she
would have stabbed either me or herself; and yet, it made me laugh to
witness her impotent rage.--But, to return to Rose. She now knows her
fate fully: for, as soon as I told her you had sworn, it was easy to
see, that her knowledge of your firmness, showed her that your word
was quite irrevocable."
The Count looked gloomily down upon the ground; for he would fain have
shrunk from the task she put upon him; and yet, like all weak people,
endeavoured to assume the qualities that were imputed to him.
"Yes," he said; "having sworn it, I must do it; and it is certainly
necessary for her own reputation, after what you have told me, and
what the other people saw, that she should marry him at once. It must
be done--that is clear."
"Ay!" answered Madame de Chazeul; "whether she slept in her own
chamber or another. It is known, unfortunately, to so many people that
Chazeul, like a rash and foolish boy, passed a great part of the night
in her usual room that, for both their sakes, there must be no delay:
and, besides, your word must be kept, as it always is."
"Certainly," replied the Count, working himself up to the pitch
required; "and it shall be kept, by all I hold sacred."
The repetition of the oath was very pleasant to Madame de Chazeul, for
she knew that her brother would not now shrink from its execution; and
that, in order to guard against his own vacillation, he would assume
an air of violence and sternness, calculated to intimidate all
remonstrance, and overbear all opposition.
"Well, then, Anthony," she said, "as we have now but little time to
spare, I will go and make some change in my apparel; and, sending for
Rose's maid, Blanchette, give her orders for dressing her mistress in
something like bridal costume."
"Do you think I ought to go and formally inform her of my resolution?"
asked the Count.
"As you please," answered Madame de Chazeul; "and yet, perhaps, you
had better not. I have told her already; and, if she have no further
inducement to display a headstrong spirit, we shall find her less
obstinate at the time of the marriage. We shall have some affectation
of reluctance, beyond doubt: but it will be soon got over when she
finds you firm; and if you then go and bring her from her chamber, it
will be enough. You will thus have only one disagreeable scene instead
of two."
"The fewer the better," replied the Count. "But, where is
Chazeul?--has he returned yet?"
"No," answered the Marchioness, "I fancy he is afraid to meet you: but
I will send down to the village, and tell him to come up, if you will
promise not to be too angry."
"I must reproach him," said the Count, putting on a firm and dignified
air. "You must admit, Jacqueline, that he has been very much in the
wrong."
"Well, I know he has," answered the Marchioness. "But, however, his
fault will all be done away with by the marriage, and so there is no
use of saying too much about it."
"Ay, but I must say something," answered Monsieur de Liancourt.
"However, go and make your preparations, for it is now past ten; and,
immediately after the marriage, I will see Helen de la Tremblade
myself, and inquire into the whole case, that I may break the tidings
to poor father Walter.--'Tis very odd that she should become such as
you represent, for she was as sweet and gentle a girl as ever I saw."
Madame de Chazeul left him without reply and entered her bed-room,
while the Count retired by the other door. But, ere she reached the
dressing-table, she paused twice; and at length, after a few moments'
meditation, murmured to herself, "No, that must be prevented."