THE HOME IN ENGLAND
The first words which milor uttered when presently consciousness
returned were:
"The letter . . . Madonna . . . 'tis destroyed . . . I swear. . . ."
He was then lying in Jean Marie's best bed, between lavender-scented
sheets. On his right a tiny open window afforded a glimpse of sea and
sky, and of many graceful craft gently lolling on the breast of the
waves, but on his left, when anon he turned his eyes that way, there
was a picture which of a truth was not of this earth, and vaguely,
with the childish and foolish fancy of a sick man who hath gazed on
the dark portals, he allowed himself to think that all the old tales
of his babyhood, about the first glimpse of paradise after death, must
indeed be true.
He was dead and this was paradise.
What he saw was a woman's face, with grave anxious eyes fixed upon
him, and a woman's smile which revealed an infinity of love and
promised an infinity of happiness.
"Madonna!" he murmured feebly. Then he closed his eyes again, for he
was weak from loss of blood and from days and nights of fever and
delirium, and he was so afraid that the vision might vanish if he
gazed at it too long.
The leech--a kindly man--visited him frequently. Apparently the wound
was destined to heal. Life was to begin anew, with its sorrows, its
disappointments, its humiliations, mayhap.
Yet a memory haunted him persistently--a vision, oh! 'twas a mere
flash--of his madonna standing with her dear, white hand outstretched,
betwixt him and death.
It was a vision, of course; such as are vouchsafed to the dying: and
the other picture?--nay! that was a fevered dream; there had been no
tender, grave eyes that watched him, no woman's smile to promise
happiness.
One day M. le Duc d'Aumont came to visit him. He had posted straight
from Paris, and was singularly urbane and anxious when he pressed the
sick man's hand.
"You must make a quick recovery, milor," he said cordially; "_par
Dieu!_ you are the hero of the hour. Mortémar hath talked his fill."
"I trust not," rejoined Eglinton gravely.
M. le Duc looked conscious and perturbed.
"Nay! he is a gallant youth," he said reassuringly, "and knows exactly
how to hold his tongue, but Belle-Isle and de Lugeac had to be taught
a lesson . . . and 'twas well learned I'll warrant you. . . . As for
Gaston. . . ."
"Yes! M. le Duc? what of M. le Comte de Stainville?"
"He hath left the Court momentarily . . . somewhat in disgrace . . .
'twas a monstrous encounter, milor," added the Duke gravely. "Had
Gaston killed you it had been murder, for you never meant to shoot, so
says de Mortémar."
The sick man's head turned restlessly on the pillow.
"De Mortémar's tongue hath run away with him," he said impatiently.
"The account of the duel . . . nothing more, on my honour," rejoined
the Duke. "No woman's name has been mentioned, but I fear me the Court
and public have got wind of the story of a conspiracy against the
Stuart prince, and connect the duel with that event--hence your
popularity, milor," continued the older man with a sigh, "and Gaston's
disgrace."
"His Majesty's whipping-boy, eh? the scapegoat in the aborted
conspiracy?"
"Poor Gaston! You bear him much ill-will, milor, no doubt?"
"I? None, on my honour."
M. le Duc hesitated a while, a troubled look appeared on his handsome
face.
"Lydie," he said tentatively. "Milor, she left Paris that night alone
. . . and travelled night and day to reach Le Havre in time to help
you and to thwart Gaston . . . she had been foolish of course, but her
motives were pure . . . milor, she is my child and . . ."
"She is my wife, M. le Duc," interrupted Lord Eglinton gravely; "I
need no assurance of her purity even from her father."
There was such implicit trust, such complete faith expressed in those
few simple words, that instinctively M. le Duc d'Aumont felt ashamed
that he could ever have misunderstood his daughter. He was silent for
a moment or two, then he said more lightly:
"His Majesty is much angered of course."
"Against me, I hope," rejoined Eglinton.
"Aye!" sighed the Duke. "King Louis is poorer by fifteen million
livres by your act, milor."
"And richer by the kingdom of honour. As for the millions, M. le Duc,
I'll place them myself at His Majesty's service. My château and
dependencies of Choisy are worth that," added milor lightly. "As soon
as this feeble hand can hold a pen, I'll hand them over to the crown
of France as a free gift."
"You will do that, milor?" gasped the Duke, who could scarce believe
his ears.
"'Tis my firm intention," rejoined the sick man with a smile.
A great weight had been lifted from M. le Duc's mind. Royal
displeasure would indeed have descended impartially on all the friends
of "le petit Anglais" and above all on milor's father-in-law, whose
very presence at Court would of a surety have become distasteful to
the disappointed monarch. Now this unparalleled generosity would more
than restore Louis' confidence in a Prime Minister whose chief virtue
consisted in possessing so wealthy and magnanimous a son-in-law.
Indeed we know that M. le Duc d'Aumont continued for some time after
these memorable days to enjoy the confidence and gratitude of Louis
the Well-beloved and to bask in the sunshine of Madame de Pompadour's
smiles, whilst the gift of the château and dependencies of Choisy by
Milor the Marquis of Eglinton to the crown of France was made the
subject of a public fête at Versailles and of an ode by M. Jolyot
Crébillon of the Institut de France, writ especially for the occasion.
But after the visit of M. le Duc d'Aumont at his bedside in the
"auberge des Trois Matelots" the munificent donor of fifteen millions
livres felt over-wearied of life.
The dream which had soothed his fevered sleep no longer haunted his
waking moments, and memory had much ado to feed love of life with the
rememberance of one happy moment.
Milor the Marquis of Eglinton closed his eyes, sighing for that dream.
The little room was so still, so peaceful, and from the tiny window a
gentle breeze from across the English Channel fanned his aching brow,
bringing back with its soothing murmur the memory of that stately home
in England, for which his father had so often sighed.
How peaceful it must be there among the hills!
The breeze murmured more persistently, and anon with its dreamlike
sound there mingled the frou-frou of a woman's skirts.
The sick man ventured to open his eyes.
Lydie, his wife, was kneeling beside his bed, her delicate hands
clasped under her chin, her eyes large, glowing and ever grave fixed
upon his face.
"Am I on earth?" he murmured quaintly.
"Of a truth, milor," she replied, and her voice was like the most
exquisite music he had ever heard; it was earnest and serious like her
own self, but there was a tremor in it which rendered it unspeakably
soft.
"The leech saith there's no longer any danger for your life," she
added.
He was silent for awhile, as if he were meditating on a grave matter,
then he said quietly:
"Would you have me live, Lydie?"
And as she did not reply, he repeated his question again:
"Do you wish me to live, Lydie?"
She fought with the tears, which against her will gathered in her
eyes.
"Milor, milor, are you not cruel now?" she whispered through those
tears.
"Cruel of a truth," he replied earnestly, "since you would have saved
me at peril of your own dear life. . . . Yet would I gladly die to see
you happy."
"Will you not rather live, milor?" she said with a smile of infinite
tenderness, "for then only could I taste happiness."
"Yet if I lived, you would have to give up so much that you love."
"That is impossible, milor, for I only love one thing."
"Your work in France?" he asked.
"No. My life with you."
Her hands dropped on to the coverlet, and he grasped them in his own.
How oft had she drawn away at his touch. Now she yielded, drawing
nearer to him, still on her knees.
"Would you come to England with me, Lydie? to my home in England,
amongst the hills of Sussex, far from Court life and from politics?
Would you follow me thither?"
"To the uttermost ends of the world, good milor," she replied.
THE END
Transcriber's Note: Obvious punctuation errors, such as missing periods
or unpaired quotation marks, have been corrected. In addition, the
following typographical errors present in the original edition have been
corrected.
In Chapter V, "The King sleeps, Monseiur" was changed to "The King
sleeps, Monsieur".
In Chapter VI, "the Marèchal de Saint Romans, friend and mentor" was
changed to "the Maréchal de Saint Romans, friend and mentor",
"unscrupluous ambition" was changed to "unscrupulous ambition",
"'Iréne,' he said earnestly" was changed to "'Irène,' he said
earnestly", and "the appearance of Jeanne Poisson d'Étoiles" was changed
to "the appearance of Jeanne Poisson d'Étioles".
In Chapter VII, "the enthusiasm of Mlle. de.Aumont" was changed to "the
enthusiasm of Mlle. d'Aumont".
In Chapter VIII, "cause Louis XV, to make comparisons" was changed to
"cause Louis XV to make comparisons", and "no longer though of flight"
was changed to "no longer thought of flight".
In Chapter X, "anything one can do to oblige a friend" was changed to
"Anything one can do to oblige a friend".
In Chapter XI, "if she succeded presently" was changed to "if she
succeeded presently", and "Iréne, therefore" was changed to "Irène,
therefore".
In Chapter XII, "whom she had féted" was changed to "whom she had
fêted", and "Why,? Why?" was changed to "Why? Why?"
In Chapter XIII, "mandate of usuage" was changed to "mandate of usage",
"pettis levers of kings" was changed to "petits levers of kings", and
"Louis XV a the end of his progress" was changed to "Louis XV at the end
of his progress".
In Chapter XIV, "And l'Anglias?" was changed to "And l'Anglais?", "T'is
fairly simple" was changed to "'Tis fairly simple", and "thought,
anxiety. and a wealth of eloquence" was changed to "thought, anxiety,
and a wealth of eloquence".
In Chapter XVI, "cöoperation of a man" was changed to "coöperation of a
man", "he had blundered" was changed to "He had blundered", and "all
matters Madame" was changed to "all matters, Madame".
In Chapter XVII, "either more of less" was changed to "either more or
less", and "load of oppresson" was changed to "load of oppression".
In Chapter XVIII, "in which case. . . ." was changed to "in which case
. . .", "privileged to. . . ." was changed to "privileged to . . .", "I
if hold aloof" was changed to "if I hold aloof", and "met by M. le duc
d'Aumont" was changed to "met by M. le Duc d'Aumont".
In Chapter XIX, "additonal message" was changed to "additional message",
and "bracken and foxgloxes" was changed to "bracken and foxgloves".
In Chapter XX, "to the palace now, Monseur" was changed to "to the
palace now, Monsieur".
In Chapter XXII, "His Majesty' hands" was changed to "His Majesty's
hands", and "so compeletly condoned" was changed to "so completely
condoned".
In Chapter XXIV, "English husband's always beat their wives" was changed
to "English husbands always beat their wives".
In Chapter XXVI, "whilst la belle Iréne" was changed to "whilst la belle
Irène", "his partners's attitude" was changed to "his partner's
attitude", "d'Amont, never a very keen observer" was changed to
"d'Aumont, never a very keen observer", and "came to the foot of the
Royal dais" was changed to "came to the foot of the Royal daïs".
In Chapter XXVII, "fatuous innundoes" was changed to "fatuous
innuendoes", and "take the matter so throughly" was changed to "take the
matter so thoroughly".
In Chapter XXVIII, "between herself and Iréne" was changed to "between
herself and Irène".
In Chapter XXIX, "spoke up to indiscreetly" was changed to "spoke up so
indiscreetly".
In Chapter XXX, "bent his ear so listen" was changed to "bent his ear to
listen", "Achille looked at M. Druand" was changed to "Achille looked at
M. Durand", "M. Durand's was about to" was changed to "M. Durand was
about to", and "have insulted M. le Comte de Stainivlle" was changed to
"have insulted M. le Comte de Stainville".
In Chapter XXXI, "those accupied by milor" was changed to "those
accupied by milor", and "Achille! ar you here?" was changed to "Achille!
are you here?".
In Chapter XXXII, a semicolon was added after "ill-will toward Lord
Eglinton".
In Chapter XXXV, "from the sacred precints" was changed to "from the
sacred precincts", "His Majesty's had not sent" was changed to "His
Majesty had not sent", "occupied by Gaston and de Montémar" was changed
to "occupied by Gaston and de Mortémar", "Lieutenant Tellier had speech
oustide" was changed to "Lieutenant Tellier had speech outside", "still
addresing de Mortémar" was changed to "still addressing de Mortémar",
and "weakness nor, yet ill-humour, visible" was changed to "weakness,
nor yet ill-humour, visible".
In Chapter XXXVI, "for even at the last word rose" was changed to "for
even as the last word rose", and "my wife, Iréne" was changed to "my
wife, Irène".
In Chapter XXXVIII, "Me. le Duc looked conscious" was changed to "M. le
Duc looked conscious", "That is impossilbe, milor" was changed to "That
is impossible, milor", and "the rememberance of one happy moment" was
changed to "the remembrance of one happy moment".
End of Project Gutenberg's Petticoat Rule, by Emmuska Orczy, Baroness Orczy