A BAD START.
Diana de Laurebourg was a strange compound; under an appearance of the
most artless simplicity she concealed an iron will, and had hidden from
every one of her family, and even from her most intimate friends, her
firm resolve to become the Duchess of Champdoce. All her rambles in the
neighborhood had turned out of no avail; and as the weather was now very
uncertain, it seemed as if her long strolls in the country roads and
fields would soon come to an end. “The day must eventually come,”
murmured she, “when this invisible prince must make his appearance.” And
at last the long-expected day arrived.
It was in the middle of the month of November, and the weather was
exceedingly soft and balmy for the time of year. The sky was blue,
the few remaining leaves rustled on the trees, and an occasional bird
whistled in the hedgerows. Diana de Laurebourg was walking slowly along
the path leading to Mussidan, when all at once she heard a rustling of
branches. She turned round sharply, and all the blood in her body seemed
to rush suddenly to her heart, for through an opening in the hedge she
caught sight of the man who for the past two months had occupied all
her waking thoughts. Norbert was waiting for something with all the
eagerness of a sportsman, his finger on the trigger of his gun.
Here was the opportunity for which she had waited so long, and with such
ill-concealed impatience; and yet she could derive no advantage from it,
for what would happen? Simply this: Norbert would bow to her, and she
would reply with a slight inclination of her head, and perhaps two
months might pass away before she met him again. Just as she was about
to take some bold and decisive step she saw Norbert raise his gun and
point it in her direction. She endeavored to call out to him, but her
voice failed her, and in another moment the report rang out, and she
felt a sharp pang, like the touch of a red-hot iron upon her ankle. With
a wild shriek she threw up her arms and fell upon the pathway. She did
not lose her senses, for she heard a cry in response to her own, and the
crashing of something forcing its way through the hedge. Then she felt
a hot breath upon her face, and then something cold and wet touched her
cheek. She opened her eyes languidly, and saw Bruno licking her face and
hands.
At the same moment Norbert dashed through the hedge and stood before
her. At once she realized the advantage of her position and closed her
eyes once more. Norbert, as he hung over the seemingly unconscious form
of this fair young creature, felt that his senses were deserting him,
for he greatly feared that he had killed Mademoiselle de Laurebourg. His
first impulse was to fly precipitately, and his second to give what
aid he could to his victim. He knelt down by her, and, to his infinite
relief, found that life was not extinct. He raised her beautiful head.
“Speak to me, mademoiselle, I entreat you,” cried he.
All this time Diana was returning thanks to kind Providence for the
fulfillment of her wishes. After a time she made a slight move, and
Norbert uttered an exclamation of joy. Then, opening her beautiful eyes,
she gazed upon the young man with the air of a person just awaking from
a dream.
“It is I,” faltered the distracted young man. “Norbert de Champdoce. But
forgive me, and tell me if you are in pain?”
Pity came over the wounded girl. She gently drew herself away from the
arm that encircled her, and said softly,--
“It is I who ought to apologize for my foolish weakness; for I am really
more frightened than hurt.”
Norbert felt that heaven had opened before his very eyes. “Let me go for
help,” exclaimed he.
“No, no; it was a mere scratch.” And, raising her skirt, she displayed a
foot that might have turned a steadier head than Norbert’s. “See,” said
she, “it is there that I am in pain.”
And she pointed to a spot of blood upon the delicate white stocking. At
the sight of this the young man’s terror increased, and he started to
his feet.
“Let me run to the Chateau,” said he, “and in less than an hour--”
“Do nothing of the kind,” interrupted the girl; “it is a mere nothing.
Look, I can move my foot with ease.”
“But let me entreat you--”
“Hush! we shall soon see what it is that has happened.” And she
inspected what she laughingly termed his terrible wound.
It was, as she had supposed, a mere nothing. One pellet had grazed the
skin, another had lodged in the flesh, but it was quite on the surface.
“A surgeon must see to this,” said Norbert.
“No, no.” And with the point of a penknife she pulled out the little
leaden shot. The young man remained still, holding his breath, as a
child does when he is putting the topmost story on a house of cards. He
had never heard so soft a voice, never gazed on so perfectly lovely a
face. In the meantime Diana had torn up her handkerchief and bandaged
the wound. “Now that is over,” exclaimed she, with a light laugh, as she
extended her slender fingers to Norbert, so that he might assist her to
rise.
As soon as she was on her feet, she took a few steps with the prettiest
limp imaginable.
“Are you in pain?” said he anxiously.
“No, I am not indeed; and by this evening I shall have forgotten all
about it. But confess, Marquis,” she added, with a coquettish laugh,
“that this is a droll way of making an acquaintance.”
Norbert started at the word Marquis, for no one but Daumon had ever
addressed him thus.
“She does not despise me,” thought he.
“This little incident will be a lesson to me,” continued she. “Mamma
always has told me to keep to the highroad; but I preferred the by-paths
because of the lovely scenery.”
Norbert, for the first time in his life, realized that the view was a
beautiful one.
“I am this way nearly every day,” pursued Diana, “though I am very
wicked to disobey my mother. I go to see poor La Berven. She is dying of
consumption, poor thing, and I take her a little soup and wine every now
and then.”
She spoke like a real Sister of Mercy, and, in Norbert’s opinion, wings
only were lacking to transform her into a perfect angel.
“The poor woman has three children, and their father does nothing for
them, for he drinks what he earns,” the young girl went on.
Berven was one of the identical men to whom Norbert had given his
promissory note for four thousand francs, for he was one of the two
men who had intrusted Daumon with their savings for investment; but
the young man was not in a condition to notice this. Diana had meantime
slung her basket on her arm.
“Before I leave you to-day,” said she, “I should so much like to ask a
favor of you.”
“A favor of me, mademoiselle?”
“Yes; oblige me by saying nothing of what has occurred to-day to any
one; for should it come to my parents’ ears, they would undoubtedly
deprive me of the little liberty that they now grant me.”
“Mademoiselle,” answered Norbert, “be sure that I will never mention the
terrible accident that my awkwardness has caused.”
“Thank you, Marquis,” answered the girl, with a half-mocking courtesy.
“Another time let me advise you, before you shoot, to look that no one
is behind a hedge.”
With these words she tripped away, without her tiny feet showing any
signs of lameness. She had read Norbert’s heart like the pages of a
book, and felt that there was every chance of her winning the game. “I
am sure of it now,” said she; “I shall be the Duchess of Champdoce.” How
grateful she felt for that untimely shot! And she felt sure that Norbert
had understood what she meant when she had said that she went along that
path. She felt certain that the young man had not lost one word. She
believed that the only opposition would come from his father. As she
looked round for a moment, she saw Norbert standing fixed and motionless
as the trees around him.
After Diana had departed, the unhappy lad felt as if she had taken
half his life with her. Was it all a dream? He knelt down, and, after
a slight search, discovered the little pellet, the cause of all the
mischief; and, taking it up carefully, returned home. To his extreme
surprise, he found the main gateway wide open, and from a window he
heard his father’s voice calling out in kindly accents,--
“Come up quickly, my boy, for our guest has arrived.”