part of it was not noticed. It was as large as a small village; a high
wall, pierced by a broad ogive door and a smaller servants' door,
protected it on the side of the quay. On entering you found yourself at
first in an immense courtyard surrounded by walls; there was a door in
the wall at the left, and one at the back. Passing through the door at
the left, as Ascanio did, you came to a charming little building in the
Gothic style of the fourteenth century; it was the Petit-Nesle, which
had its own separate garden. If, on the other hand, you passed through
the door in the rear wall, you saw at your right the Grand-Nesle,--all
of stone, and flanked by two turrets,--with its high peaked roofs,
surrounded by balustrades, its angular façade, its high windows with
glass of many colors, and its twenty weather-vanes crying in the wind;
there was room enough to provide accommodation for three bankers of
to-day.
If you went on, you lost yourself in all sorts of gardens, and you found
among them a tennis-court, a bowling-green, a foundry, and an arsenal;
and still farther on the stable-yards, stables, cattle-sheds, and
sheepfolds; there was accommodation for the establishments of three
farmers of to-day.
The whole property, it should be said, was sadly neglected, and
consequently in very bad condition, for Raimbault and his two assistants
hardly sufficed to take proper care of the garden belonging to the
Petit-Nesle, where Colombe raised flowers, and Dame Perrine vegetables.
But the whole was of vast extent, well lighted, and substantially built,
and with a slight outlay of trouble and money, it could be made the
finest workshop in the world.
Even if the place had been infinitely less suitable, Ascanio would have
been none the less enchanted with it, as his principal desire was to be
brought near to Colombe.
His visit to the larger building was made very short: in less time than
it takes to write it, the active youth saw everything that there was to
see, and formed an opinion upon everything that he saw. Dame Perrine,
finding it impossible to keep pace with him, good-naturedly handed him
the keys, which he faithfully restored to her when his investigation was
at an end.
"Now, Dame Perrine," said he, "I am at your service."
"Very good: let us return for a moment to the Petit-Nesle, as you agree
with me that it is the proper thing to do."
"I should say as much! It would be extremely discourteous to do
otherwise."
"But not a word to Colombe of the object of your visit."
"Mon Dieu! what shall I say to her, then?" cried Ascanio.
"You're easily embarrassed, my handsome lad. Did you not tell me that
you are a goldsmith?"
"Indeed, yes."
"Very well, talk to her about jewels; that is a subject that always
gladdens the heart of the most virtuous maiden. She is or is not a true
daughter of Eve, and if she is a true daughter of Eve she loves anything
that glitters. Besides, she has so little diversion in her solitude,
poor child! that it would be a blessing to entertain her a little. To be
sure, the most suitable entertainment for a girl of her age would be a
good marriage; and Master Robert never comes hither that I do not
whisper in his ear, 'Find a husband for the poor dear; pray find a
husband for her.'"
Without stopping to consider what conjectures as to the relations
between herself and the provost might be set on foot by this declaration
of her familiar manner of addressing him, Dame Perrine led the way back
to the Petit-Nesle and to the room where they had left Colombe.
Colombe was still absorbed in thought, and in the same attitude in which
we left her. But no one knows how many times she had raised her head and
fixed her eyes upon the door through which the comely youth had gone
from her sight; any one who had observed these oft-repeated glances
might have thought that she was expecting him. But as she saw the door
turning upon its hinges, Colombe went about her work once more so
earnestly that neither Dame Perrine nor Ascanio could suspect that it
had been interrupted.
How she had divined that the young man was following the duenna is
something that might have been explained by magnetism, if magnetism had
then been invented.
"I bring back with me our donor of holy water, my dear Colombe, for he
it is, as I thought. I was about to show him out by the door of the
Grand-Nesle, when he reminded me that he had not taken leave of you. It
was true enough, for you didn't say one little word to each other
before. However, neither of you is dumb, God be praised!"
"Dame Perrine--" faltered Colombe, greatly embarrassed.
"Well! what is it? You must not blush like that. Monsieur Ascanio is an
honorable young man, as you are a virtuous young woman. Furthermore, it
seems that he is an artist in jewels, precious stones, and such gewgaws
as suit the fancy of most pretty girls. He will come and show them to
you, my child, if you wish."
"I need nothing," murmured Colombe.
"Possibly not at this moment; but it is to be hoped that you will not
die a recluse in this accursed solitude. We are but sixteen years old,
Colombe, and the day will come when we shall be a lovely _fiancée_, to
whom all sorts of jewels will be presented, and after that a great lady,
who must have all sorts of finery. When that time comes, it will be as
well to give the preference to this youth's as to those of some other
artist, who surely will not be comparable to him."
Colombe was on the rack. Ascanio, to whom Dame Perrine's forecasts of
the future were but moderately pleasing, noticed her suffering, and came
to the rescue of the poor child, to whom direct conversation was a
thousand times less embarrassing than this monologue by a
self-constituted interpreter.
"Oh! mademoiselle," said he, "do not deny me the great privilege of
bringing some of my handiwork to you; it seems to me now as if I made
them for you, and as if when making them I was thinking of you. Oh!
believe it, I pray you, for we artists in jewels sometimes mingle our
own thoughts with the gold and silver and precious stones. In the
diadems with which your heads are crowned, the bracelets which encircle
your white arms, the necklaces which rest so lovingly upon your
shoulders, in the flowers, the birds, the angels, the chimeras, which we
make to tremble at your ears, we sometimes embody our respectful
adoration."
It is our duty as an historian to state that at these soft words
Colombe's heart dilated, for Ascanio, mute so long, was speaking at
last, and speaking as she had dreamed that he would speak; for without
raising her eyes the girl could feel his burning glance fixed upon her,
and there was nothing, even to the unfamiliar tone of his voice, which
did not impart a singular charm to these words which sounded so
strangely in Colombe's ears, and a profound and irresistible meaning to
the flowing, harmonious language of love, which maidens understand
before they can speak it.
"I know," Ascanio continued, with his eyes still fixed upon Colombe, "I
know that we can add nothing to your beauty. God is made none the richer
by decking out his altar. But we can at least surround your graceful
form with those things which are attractive and beautiful like itself;
and when we poor, humble artificers of splendor and enchantment from the
depths of our obscurity see you pass by in a blaze of glory, we console
ourselves for being so far below you by the thought that our art has
helped to raise you to the height whereon you stand."
"O Monsieur!" replied Colombe, covered with confusion, "your lovely
things will probably be always unfamiliar to me, or at least useless. I
live in solitude and obscurity, and so far is it from being the case
that the solitude and obscurity are oppressive to me, that I confess
that I love them, I confess that I would like to live here always, and
yet I also confess that I would like well to see your jewels, not for
myself but for them,--not to wear them, but to admire them."
Trembling with fear lest she had said too much, and perhaps with a
longing to say even more, Colombe bowed and left the room so swiftly,
that to the eyes of a man more knowing in such matters her exit would
have worn the aspect of a flight.
"Well, well!" exclaimed Dame Perrine; "that's not a long way from
something like coquetry. There is no doubt, young man, that you talk
like a book. Yes, yes, one can but believe that you Italians have secret
means of fascinating people. No stronger proof is needed than
this,--that you have enlisted me on your side at once, and 'pon honor, I
find myself wishing that Messire le Prévôt will not deal too hardly
with you. _Au revoir_, young man, and bid your master be on his guard.
Warn him that Messire d'Estourville is as hard of heart as the devil,
and wields great influence at court. For which reason, if your master
will take my advice, he will abandon all thought of living at the
Grand-Nesle, and especially of taking forcible possession of it. As for
you--but we shall see you again, shall we not? Above all, do not believe
Colombe; the property of her deceased mother is sufficient to enable her
to indulge in baubles twenty times more costly than those you offer her.
And look you, bring also some less elaborate articles; it may occur to
her to make me a little present. I am not yet, thank God! so old that I
need decline a little flirtation. You understand, do you not?"
Deeming it necessary, the better to make her meaning clear, to enforce
her words with a gesture, she laid her hand upon the young man's arm.
Ascanio jumped like one suddenly awakened from a sound sleep. Indeed, it
seemed to him as if it were all a dream. He could not realize that he
was under Colombe's roof, and he doubted whether the white apparition
whose melodious voice was still whispering in his ear, whose slender
form had just vanished from his sight, was really she for one glance
from whose eyes he would have given his life that morning.
Overflowing with his present happiness and his future prospects, he
promised Dame Perrine whatever she wished, without even listening to
what she asked him to do. What mattered it to him? Was he not ready to
give all that he possessed to see Colombe once more?
Thinking that to prolong his visit would be unbecoming, he took leave of
Dame Perrine, promising to return the next day.
As he left the Petit-Nesle, Ascanio almost collided with two men who
were about to enter. By the way in which one of them stared at him, even
more than by his costume, he felt sure that it was the provost.
His suspicion was changed to certainty when he saw them knock at the
same door by which he had just come out, and he regretted that he had
not sooner taken his leave; for who could say that his imprudence would
not be visited upon Colombe?
To negative the idea that his visit was of any importance, assuming that
the provost noticed it, Ascanio walked away without once turning to look
back toward the only corner of the world of which he would at that
moment have cared to be king.
When he returned to the studio, he found Benvenuto absorbed in thought.
The man who stopped them in the street was Primaticcio, and he was on
his way, like the honorable confrère he was, to inform Cellini that,
during the visit François I. paid him that morning, the imprudent
artist had succeeded in making a mortal enemy of Madame la Duchesse
d'Etampes.
VII
A LOVER AND A FRIEND
One of the two men who entered the Hôtel de Nesle as Ascanio emerged
therefrom was indeed Messire Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris. Who
the other was we shall learn in a moment.
Five minutes after Ascanio's departure, while Colombe was still
listening and dreaming in her bedroom, whither she had fled, Dame
Perrine hurriedly entered, and informed the young woman that her father
was awaiting her in the adjoining room.
"My father!" cried Colombe in alarm. "Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" she added in
an undertone, "can it be that he met him?"
"Yes, your father, my dear child," rejoined Dame Perrine, replying to
the only portion of the sentence that she heard, "and with him another
old man whom I do not know."
"Another old man!" exclaimed Colombe, shuddering instinctively. "Mon
Dieu! Dame Perrine, what does it mean? It is the first time in two or
three years that my father has not come hither alone."
However, notwithstanding her alarm she could but obey, knowing as she
did her father's impatient disposition, so she summoned all her courage
and returned to the room she had just left with a smile upon her lips.
Despite this feeling of dread, which she experienced for the first time
and could not explain, she loved Messire d'Estourville as a daughter
should love her father, and although his demeanor toward her was far
from expansive, the days on which he visited the Hôtel de Nesle were
marked as red-letter days among the uniformly gloomy days of her life.
Colombe went forward with outstretched arms and her mouth half open, but
the provost gave her no time either to embrace him or to speak. He took
her hand, and led her to the stranger, who was leaning against the
flower-laden mantel.
"My dear friend," he said, "I present my daughter to you. Colombe," he
added, "this is Comte d'Orbec, the king's treasurer and your future
husband."
Colombe uttered a feeble exclamation, which she at once stifled, out of
regard for the requirements of courtesy; but feeling her knees giving
way beneath her, she leaned against the back of a chair for support.
Fully to understand the horror of this unexpected presentation,
especially in Colombe's then frame of mind, it is necessary to know what
manner of man this Comte d'Orbec was.
Messire Robert d'Estourville, Colombe's father, was certainly far from
handsome; there was in his bushy eyebrows, which he drew together at the
least obstacle, physical or moral, that he encountered, a savage
expression, and in his whole thickset figure something heavy and
awkward, which caused one to feel but slightly prepossessed in his
favor; but beside Comte d'Orbec he seemed like Saint Michael the
Archangel beside the dragon. The square head and the strongly
accentuated features of the provost did at least indicate resolution and
force of character, while his small, piercing gray lynx eyes denoted
intelligence; but Comte d'Orbec, lean and withered, with his long arms
like spider's claws his mosquito-like voice and his snail-like
movements, was not only ugly, he was absolutely hideous;--it was the
ugliness of the beast and the villain in one. His head was carried on
one side, and his face wore a villanous smile and a treacherous
expression.
So it was that Colombe, at the sight of this revolting creature, who was
presented to her as her future husband when her heart and her thoughts
and her eyes were still filled with the comely youth who had just gone
from that very room, could not, as we have seen, wholly repress an
exclamation of dismay; but her strength failed her, and she stood there
pale and speechless, gazing terror-stricken into her father's face.
"I beseech you to pardon Colombe's confusion, dear friend," the provost
continued; "in the first place, she is a little barbarian, who has not
been away from here these two years past, the air of the time being not
over healthy, as you know, for attractive maids; secondly, I have made
the mistake of not informing her of our plans, which would have been
time lost, however, since what I have determined upon needs no person's
approval before being put in execution; and lastly, she knows not who
you are, and that with your name, your great wealth, and the favor of
Madame d'Etampes, you are in a position where everything is possible;
but upon reflection she will appreciate the honor you confer upon us in
consenting to ally your ancient blood with our nobility of more recent
date; she will learn that friends of forty years' standing--"
"Enough, my dear fellow, enough, in God's name!" interposed the count.
"Come, come, my child," he added, addressing Colombe with familiar and
insolent assurance, which formed a striking contrast to poor Ascanio's
timidity,--"come, compose yourself and call back to your cheeks a little
of the lovely coloring that so becomes you. Mon Dieu! I know what a
young girl is, you know, and a young woman too for that matter, for I
have already been married twice, my dear. Good lack! you must not be
disturbed like this: I don't frighten you, I hope, eh?" added the count
fatuously, passing his fingers through his scanty moustache and
imperial. "Your father did wrong to give me the title of husband so
suddenly, which always agitates a youthful heart a little when it hears
it for the first time; but you will come to it, little one, and will end
by saying it yourself with that sweet little mouth of yours. Well!
well! you are growing paler and paler,--God forgive me! I believe she is
fainting."
As he spoke D'Orbec put out his arms to support her, but she stood
erect, and stepped back as if she feared his touch no less than a
serpent's, finding strength to utter a few words:--
"Pardon, monsieur, pardon, father," she faltered; "forgive me, it is
nothing; but I thought, I hoped--"
"What did you think, what did you hope? Come, tell us quickly!" rejoined
the provost, fixing his sharp eyes, snapping angrily, upon his daughter.
"That you would allow me to stay with you always, father," replied
Colombe. "Since my poor mother's death, you have no one else to love you
and care for you, and I had thought--"
"Hold your peace, Colombe," retorted the provost imperatively. "I am not
old enough as yet to need a keeper, and you have arrived at the proper
age to have an establishment of your own.
"Bon Dieu!" interposed D'Orbec, joining once more in the conversation,
"accept me without so much ado, my love. With me you will be as happy as
one can be, and more than one will envy you, I swear. Mordieu! I am
rich, and I propose, that you shall be a credit to me; you shall go to
court, and shall wear jewels that will arouse the envy, I will not say
of the queen, but of Madame d'Etampes herself."
I know not what thoughts these last words awoke in Colombe's heart, but
the color returned to her cheeks, and she made hold to answer the count,
despite her father's harsh and threatening glance:--
"I will ask my father, monseigneur, at least to give me time to reflect
upon your proposal."
"What's that?" cried Messire d'Estourville violently. "Not an hour, not
a minute. You are from this moment the count's betrothed, understand
that, and you would be his wife this evening were it not that he is
obliged to pay a visit to his estates in Normandie, and you know that my
wishes are commands. Reflect indeed! Sarpejeu! D'Orbec, let us leave her
ladyship. From this moment, my friend, she is yours, and you may claim
her when you will. And now let us go and inspect your future abode."
D'Orbec would have been glad to tarry and add a word to what he had
already said, but the provost passed his arm through his, and led him
away grumbling; he contented himself therefore with saluting Colombe
with his wicked smile, and went out with Messire Robert.
Behind them Dame Perrine entered through another door; she had heard the
provost speaking in a loud voice, and guessed that he was as usual
scolding his daughter. She arrived in time to receive Colombe in her
arms.
"O mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" sobbed the poor child, putting her hand over her
eyes as if to avoid the sight of the odious D'Orbec, absent though he
was. "O mon Dieu! is this to be the end? O my golden dreams! O my poor
hopes! All is lost, and naught remains for me but to die!"
We need not ask if this lament, added to Colombe's weakness and pallor,
terrified Dame Perrine, and at the same time aroused her curiosity. As
Colombe sadly needed to relieve her overburdened heart, she described to
her worthy governess, weeping the while the bitterest tears she had ever
shed, the interview between her father, Comte d'Orbec, and herself. Dame
Perrine agreed that the suitor was not young or handsome, but as the
worst misfortune, in her opinion, that could happen to a woman was to
remain single, she insisted that it was better, when all was said, to
have an old and ugly, but wealthy and influential husband, than none at
all. But this doctrine was so offensive to Colombe's heart, that she
withdrew to her own room, leaving Dame Perrine, whose imagination was
most active, to build innumerable castles in the air in anticipation of
the day when she should rise from the rank of Mademoiselle Colombe's
governess to that of Comtesse d'Orbec's _dame de compagnie_.
Meanwhile the provost and the count were beginning their tour of
inspection of the Grand-Nesle, as Dame Perrine and Ascanio had done an
hour earlier.
Curious results would follow if walls, which are commonly supposed to
have ears, had also eyes and a tongue, and could repeat to those who
enter what they have seen and heard on the part of those who have gone
before.
But as the walls held their peace, and simply looked at the provost and
the treasurer, laughing perhaps, after the manner of walls, it was the
treasurer who spoke.
"On my word," he said, as they crossed the courtyard leading from the
Petit to the Grand-Nesle, "on my word, the little one will do very well;
she is just such a woman as I need, my dear D'Estourville, virtuous,
well-bred, and ignorant. When the first storm has passed over, time will
straighten out everything, believe me. I know how it is; every little
girl dreams of a young, handsome, clever, and wealthy husband. Mon Dieu!
I have at least half of the requisite qualities. Few men can say as
much, so that's a great point in my favor." Passing from his future wife
to the property he was to occupy, and speaking with the same shrill,
greedy accent of the one as of the other, "This old Nesle," he
continued, "is a magnificent habitation, on my honor! and I congratulate
you upon it. We shall be marvellously comfortable here, my wife and I,
and my whole treasury. Here we will have our own apartments, there will
be my offices, and over yonder the servants' quarters. The place as a
whole has been allowed to run to seed. But with the expenditure of a
little money, which we will find a way to make his Majesty pay, we will
give a good account of ourselves. By the way, D'Estourville, are you
perfectly sure of retaining the property? You should take steps to
perfect your title to it; so far as I now remember, the king did not
give it you, after all."
"He did not give it me, true," replied the provost with a laugh, "but he
let me take it, which is much the same thing."
"Very good; but suppose that some other should play you the trick of
making a formal request for it from him."
"Ah! such a one would be very ill received, I promise you, when he
should come to take possession, and, being sure as I am of Madame
d'Etampes's support and yours, I would make him sorely repent his
pretensions. No, no, my dear fellow, my mind is at ease, and the Hôtel
de Nesle belongs to me as truly as my daughter Colombe belongs to you;
go, therefore, without fear on that score, and return quickly."
As the provost uttered these words, the truth of which neither he nor
his interlocutor had any reason to doubt, a third personage, escorted by
Raimbault the gardener, appeared upon the threshold of the door leading
from the quadrangular courtyard into the gardens of the Petit-Nesle. It
was the Vicomte de Marmagne.