A BOLD ADVENTURE.
Daumon had in no way exaggerated when he said that Norbert was spoken of
as the “Young Savage of Champdoce,” though no one used this appellation
in an insulting form. Public opinion had changed considerably regarding
the Duke of Champdoce. The first time that he had made his appearance,
wearing wooden shoes and a leathern jacket, every one had laughed, but
this did not affect him at all, and in the end people began to term his
dogged obstinacy indomitable perseverance. The gleam that shone from his
hoarded millions imparted a brilliant lustre to his shabby garments. Why
should they waste their pity upon a man who would eventually come into a
gigantic fortune, and have the means of gratifying all his desires?
Mothers, with daughters especially, took a great interest in the young
man, for to get a girl married to the “Young Savage of Champdoce” would
be a feat to be proud of; but unluckily his father watched him with all
the vigilance of a Spanish duenna. But there was a young girl who had
long since secretly formed a design of her own, and this bold-hearted
beauty was Diana de Laurebourg. It was with perfect justice that she
had received the name of the “Belle of Poitiers.” She was tall and very
fair, with a dazzling complexion and masses of lustrous hair; but
her eyes gleamed with a suppressed fire, which plainly showed the
constitution of her nature. She had been brought up in a convent, and
her parents, who had wished her to take the veil, had only been induced
to remove her owing to her obstinate refusal to pronounce the vows,
coupled with the earnest entreaties of the lady superior, who was kept
in a constant state of ferment owing to the mutinous conduct of her
pupil. Her father was wealthy, but all the property went over to her
brother, ten years older than herself; and so Diana was portionless,
with the exception of a paltry sum of forty thousand francs.
“My child!” said her father to her the first day of her return, “you
have come back to us once more, and now all you have to do is to
fascinate some gentleman who is your equal in position and who has
plenty of money. If you fail in that, back you go to the convent.”
“Time enough to talk about that some years hence,” answered the girl
with a smile; “at present I am quite contented with being at home with
you.”
M. de Laurebourg had commented with some severity upon the conduct of
the Duke de Champdoce towards his son, but he was perfectly willing to
sacrifice his daughter’s heart for a suitable marriage.
“I shall gain my end,” murmured the girl, “I am sure of it.”
She had heard a friend of her father’s speaking of Norbert and his
colossal expectations.
“Why should I not marry him?” she asked of her own heart; and, with the
utmost skill, she applied herself to the execution of her design; for
the idea of being a duchess, with an income of two hundred thousand
francs, was a most fascinating one. But how was she to meet Norbert? And
how bring over the money-raking Duke to her side? Before, however, she
could decide on any plan, she felt that she must see Norbert. He was
pointed out to her one day at Mass, and she was struck by his beauty and
by an ease of manner which even his shabby dress could not conceal. By
the quick perception which many women possess, she dived into Norbert’s
inmost soul; she felt that he had suffered, and her sympathy for him
brought with it the dawn of love, and by the time she had left the
chapel she had registered a solemn vow that she would one day be
Norbert’s wife. But she did not acquaint her parents with this
determination on her part, preferring to carry out her plans without
any aid or advice. Mademoiselle Diana was shrewd and practical, and not
likely to err from want of judgment. The frank and open expression of
her features concealed a mind of superior calibre, and one which well
knew how to weigh the advantages of social rank and position. She
affected a sudden sympathy with the poor, and visited them constantly,
and might be frequently met in the lanes carrying soup and other
comforts to them. Her father declared, with a laugh, that she ought
to have been a Sister of Charity, and did not notice the fact that all
Diana’s pensioners resided in the vicinity of Champdoce. But it was
in vain that she wandered about, continually changing the hour of her
visits. The “Savage of Champdoce” was not to be seen, nor was he even
a regular attendant at Mass. At last a mere trifle changed the whole
current of the young man’s existence; for, a week after the conversation
in which the Duke had laid bare his scheme to his son, he again referred
to it, after their dinner, which they had partaken of at the same table
with forty laborers, who had been hired to get in the harvest.
“You need not, my son,” began the old gentleman, “go back with the
laborers to-day.”
“But, sir--”
“Allow me to continue, if you please. My confidential conversation with
you the other night was merely a preliminary to my telling you that
for the future I did not expect you to toil as hard as you had hitherto
done, for I wish you to perform a duty less laborious, but more
responsible; you will for the future act as farm-bailiff.”
Norbert looked up suddenly into his father’s face.
“For I wish you to become accustomed to independent action, so that at
my death your sudden liberty may not intoxicate you.”
The Duke then rose from his seat, and took a highly finished gun from a
cupboard.
“I have been very much pleased with you for some time past,” said he,
“and this is a sign of my satisfaction. The gamekeeper has brought in a
thoroughly trained dog, which will also be yours. Shoot as much as you
like, and, as you cannot go about without money in your pocket, take
this, but be careful of it; for remember that extravagance on your part
will procrastinate the day upon which our descendants will resume their
proper station in the world.”
The Duke spoke for some time longer, but his son paid no heed to his
words, and was too much astonished to accept the six five-franc pieces
which his father tendered to him.
“I suppose,” said the Duke at last in angry accents, “that you will have
the grace to thank me.”
“You will find that I am not ungrateful,” stammered Norbert, aroused by
this reproach.
The Duke turned away impatiently.
“What has the boy got into his head now?” muttered he.
It was owing to the advice of the priest of Bevron that the Duke had
acted as he had done; but this indulgence came too late, for Norbert’s
detestation of his tyrant was too deeply buried in his heart to be
easily eradicated.
A gun was not such a wonderful present after all--a matter of a
few francs, perhaps. Had the Duke offered him the means of a better
education, it would be a different matter; but as it was, he would still
remain the “Young Savage of Champdoce.”
However, Norbert took advantage of the permission accorded to him, and
rambled daily over the estate with his gun and his dog Bruno, to which
he had become very much attached. His thoughts often wandered to Daumon;
but he had made inquiries, and had heard that the Counsellor was a most
dangerous man, who would stick at nothing; but for all that, he had
made up his mind to go back to him again for further advice, though his
better nature warned him of the precipice on the brink of which he was
standing.