the spirit within. M. d’Espard, at this time about fifty, might have
sat as a model to represent the aristocracy of birth in the nineteenth
century. He was slight and fair; there was in the outline and general
expression of his face a native distinction which spoke of lofty
sentiments, but it bore the impress of a deliberate coldness which
commanded respect a little too decidedly. His aquiline nose bent at the
tip from left to right, a slight crookedness which was not devoid of
grace; his blue eyes, his high forehead, prominent enough at the brows
to form a thick ridge that checked the light and shaded his eyes, all
indicated a spirit of rectitude, capable of perseverance and perfect
loyalty, while it gave a singular look to his countenance. This
penthouse forehead might, in fact, hint at a touch of madness, and his
thick-knitted eyebrows added to the apparent eccentricity. He had the
white well-kept hands of a gentleman; his foot was high and narrow. His
hesitating speech--not merely as to his pronunciation, which was that
of a stammerer, but also in the expression of his ideas, his thought
and language--produced on the mind of the hearer the impression of a
man who, in familiar phraseology, comes and goes, feels his way, tries
everything, breaks off his gestures, and finishes nothing. This defect
was purely superficial, and in contrast with the decisiveness of a
firmly-set mouth, and the strongly-marked character of his physiognomy.
His rather jerky gait matched his mode of speech. These peculiarities
helped to affirm his supposed insanity. In spite of his elegant
appearance, he was systematically parsimonious in his personal expenses,
and wore the same black frock-coat for three or four years, brushed with
extreme care by his old man-servant.
As to the children, they both were handsome, and endowed with a grace
which did not exclude an expression of aristocratic disdain. They had
the bright coloring, the clear eye, the transparent flesh which reveal
habits of purity, regularity of life, and a due proportion of work and
play. They both had black hair and blue eyes, and a twist in their nose,
like their father; but their mother, perhaps, had transmitted to them
the dignity of speech, of look and mien, which are hereditary in the
Blamont-Chauvrys. Their voices, as clear as crystal, had an emotional
quality, the softness which proves so seductive; they had, in short, the
voice a woman would willingly listen to after feeling the flame of their
looks. But, above all, they had the modesty of pride, a chaste reserve,
a _touch-me-not_ which at a maturer age might have seemed intentional
coyness, so much did their demeanor inspire a wish to know them. The
elder, Comte Clement de Negrepelisse, was close upon his sixteenth year.
For the last two years he had ceased to wear the pretty English round
jacket which his brother, Vicomte Camille d’Espard, still wore. The
Count, who for the last six months went no more to the College Henri
IV., was dressed in the style of a young man enjoying the first
pleasures of fashion. His father had not wished to condemn him to a
year’s useless study of philosophy; he was trying to give his knowledge
some consistency by the study of transcendental mathematics. At the
same time, the Marquis was having him taught Eastern languages, the
international law of Europe, heraldry, and history from the original
sources, charters, early documents, and collections of edicts. Camille
had lately begun to study rhetoric.
The day when Popinot arranged to go to question M. d’Espard was a
Thursday, a holiday. At about nine in the morning, before their father
was awake, the brothers were playing in the garden. Clement was
finding it hard to refuse his brother, who was anxious to go to the
shooting-gallery for the first time, and who begged him to second his
request to the Marquis. The Viscount always rather took advantage of his
weakness, and was very fond of wrestling with his brother. So the couple
were quarreling and fighting in play like schoolboys. As they ran in
the garden, chasing each other, they made so much noise as to wake their
father, who came to the window without their perceiving him in the heat
of the fray. The Marquis amused himself with watching his two children
twisted together like snakes, their faces flushed by the exertion of
their strength; their complexion was rose and white, their eyes flashed
sparks, their limbs writhed like cords in the fire; they fell, sprang up
again, and caught each other like athletes in a circus, affording their
father one of those moments of happiness which would make amends for the
keenest anxieties of a busy life. Two other persons, one on the second
and one on the first floor, were also looking into the garden, and
saying that the old madman was amusing himself by making his children
fight. Immediately a number of heads appeared at the windows; the
Marquis, noticing them, called a word to his sons, who at once climbed
up to the window and jumped into his room, and Clement obtained the
permission asked by Camille.
All through the house every one was talking of the Marquis’ new form of
insanity. When Popinot arrived at about twelve o’clock, accompanied by
his clerk, the portress, when asked for M. d’Espard, conducted him to
the third floor, telling him “as how M. d’Espard, no longer ago than
that very morning, had set on his two children to fight, and laughed
like the monster he was on seeing the younger biting the elder till he
bled, and as how no doubt he longed to see them kill each other.--Don’t
ask me the reason why,” she added; “he doesn’t show himself!”
Just as the woman spoke these decisive words, she had brought the judge
to the landing on the third floor, face to face with a door covered with
notices announcing the successive numbers of the Picturesque History of
China. The muddy floor, the dirty banisters, the door where the printers
had left their marks, the dilapidated window, and the ceiling on which
the apprentices had amused themselves with drawing monstrosities with
the smoky flare of their tallow dips, the piles of paper and litter
heaped up in the corners, intentionally or from sheer neglect--in short,
every detail of the picture lying before his eyes, agreed so well
with the facts alleged by the Marquise that the judge, in spite of his
impartiality, could not help believing them.
“There you are, gentlemen,” said the porter’s wife; “there is the
manifactor, where the Chinese swallow up enough to feed the whole
neighborhood.”
The clerk looked at the judge with a smile, and Popinot found it hard to
keep his countenance. They went together into the outer room, where
sat an old man, who, no doubt, performed the functions of office clerk,
shopman, and cashier. This old man was the Maitre Jacques of China.
Along the walls ran long shelves, on which the published numbers lay in
piles. A partition in wood, with a grating lined with green curtains,
cut off the end of the room, forming a private office. A till with a
slit to admit or disgorge crown pieces indicated the cash-desk.
“M. d’Espard?” said Popinot, addressing the man, who wore a gray blouse.
The shopman opened the door into the next room, where the lawyer and
his companion saw a venerable old man, white-headed and simply dressed,
wearing the Cross of Saint-Louis, seated at a desk. He ceased comparing
some sheets of colored prints to look up at the two visitors. This room
was an unpretentious office, full of books and proof-sheets. There was
a black wood table at which some one, at the moment absent, no doubt was
accustomed to work.
“The Marquis d’Espard?” said Popinot.
“No, monsieur,” said the old man, rising; “what do you want with him?”
he added, coming forward, and showing by his demeanor the dignified
manners and habits due to a gentlemanly education.
“We wish to speak with him on business exclusively personal to himself,”
replied Popinot.
“D’Espard, here are some gentlemen who want to see you,” then said the
old man, going into the furthest room, where the Marquis was sitting by
the fire reading the newspaper.
This innermost room had a shabby carpet, the windows were hung with gray
holland curtains; the furniture consisted of a few mahogany chairs, two
armchairs, a desk with a revolving front, an ordinary office table, and
on the chimney-shelf, a dingy clock and two old candlesticks. The old
man led the way for Popinot and his registrar, and pulled forward two
chairs, as though he were master of the place; M. d’Espard left it to
him. After the preliminary civilities, during which the judge watched
the supposed lunatic, the Marquis naturally asked what was the object of
this visit. On this Popinot glanced significantly at the old gentleman
and the Marquis.
“I believe, Monsieur le Marquis,” said he, “that the character of my
functions, and the inquiry that has brought me here, make it desirable
that we should be alone, though it is understood by law that in such
cases the inquiries have a sort of family publicity. I am judge on the
Inferior Court of Appeal for the Department of the Seine, and charged
by the President with the duty of examining you as to certain facts
set forth in a petition for a Commission in Lunacy on the part of the
Marquise d’Espard.”
The old man withdrew. When the lawyer and the Marquis were alone, the
clerk shut the door, and seated himself unceremoniously at the office
table, where he laid out his papers and prepared to take down his notes.
Popinot had still kept his eye on M. d’Espard; he was watching the
effect on him of this crude statement, so painful for a man in full
possession of his reason. The Marquis d’Espard, whose face was usually
pale, as are those of fair men, suddenly turned scarlet with anger; he
trembled for an instant, sat down, laid his paper on the chimney-piece,
and looked down. In a moment he had recovered his gentlemanly dignity,
and looked steadily at the judge, as if to read in his countenance the
indications of his character.
“How is it, monsieur,” he asked, “that I have had no notice of such a
petition?”
“Monsieur le Marquis, persons on whom such a commission is held not
being supposed to have the use of their reason, any notice of the
petition is unnecessary. The duty of the Court chiefly consists in
verifying the allegations of the petitioner.”
“Nothing can be fairer,” replied the Marquis. “Well, then, monsieur, be
so good as to tell me what I ought to do----”
“You have only to answer my questions, omitting nothing. However
delicate the reasons may be which may have led you to act in such a
manner as to give Madame d’Espard a pretext for her petition, speak
without fear. It is unnecessary to assure you that lawyers know their
duties, and that in such cases the profoundest secrecy----”
“Monsieur,” said the Marquis, whose face expressed the sincerest pain,
“if my explanations should lead to any blame being attached to Madame
d’Espard’s conduct, what will be the result?”
“The Court may add its censure to its reasons for its decision.”
“Is such censure optional? If I were to stipulate with you, before
replying, that nothing should be said that could annoy Madame d’Espard
in the event of your report being in my favor, would the Court take my
request into consideration?”
The judge looked at the Marquis, and the two men exchanged sentiments of
equal magnanimity.
“Noel,” said Popinot to his registrar, “go into the other room. If you
can be of use, I will call you in.--If, as I am inclined to think,” he
went on, speaking to the Marquis when the clerk had gone out, “I find
that there is some misunderstanding in this case, I can promise you,
monsieur, that on your application the Court will act with due courtesy.
“There is a leading fact put forward by Madame d’Espard, the most
serious of all, of which I must beg for an explanation,” said the judge
after a pause. “It refers to the dissipation of your fortune to the
advantage of a certain Madame Jeanrenaud, the widow of a bargemaster--or
rather, to that of her son, Colonel Jeanrenaud, for whom you are said to
have procured an appointment, to have exhausted your influence with the
King, and at last to have extended such protection as secures him a good
marriage. The petition suggests that such a friendship is more devoted
than any feelings, even those which morality must disapprove----”
A sudden flush crimsoned the Marquis’ face and forehead, tears even
started to his eyes, for his eyelashes were wet, then wholesome pride
crushed the emotions, which in a man are accounted a weakness.
“To tell you the truth, monsieur,” said the Marquis, in a broken voice,
“you place me in a strange dilemma. The motives of my conduct were to
have died with me. To reveal them I must disclose to you some secret
wounds, must place the honor of my family in your keeping, and must
speak of myself, a delicate matter, as you will fully understand. I
hope, monsieur, that it will all remain a secret between us. You will,
no doubt, be able to find in the formulas of the law one which
will allow of judgment being pronounced without any betrayal of my
confidences.”
“So far as that goes, it is perfectly possible, Monsieur le Marquis.”
“Some time after my marriage,” said M. d’Espard, “my wife having run
into considerable expenses, I was obliged to have recourse to borrowing.
You know what was the position of noble families during the Revolution;
I had not been able to keep a steward or a man of business. Nowadays
gentlemen are for the most part obliged to manage their affairs
themselves. Most of my title-deeds had been brought to Paris, from
Languedoc, Provence, or le Comtat, by my father, who dreaded, and not
without reason, the inquisition which family title-deeds, and what was
then styled the ‘parchments’ of the privileged class, brought down on
the owners.
“Our name is Negrepelisse; d’Espard is a title acquired in the time of
Henri IV. by a marriage which brought us the estates and titles of the
house of d’Espard, on condition of our bearing an escutcheon of pretence
on our coat-of-arms, those of the house of d’Espard, an old family of
Bearn, connected in the female line with that of Albret: quarterly, paly
of or and sable; and azure two griffins’ claws armed, gules in saltire,
with the famous motto Des partem leonis. At the time of this alliance
we lost Negrepelisse, a little town which was as famous during the
religious struggles as was my ancestor who then bore the name. Captain
de Negrepelisse was ruined by the burning of all his property, for the
Protestants did not spare a friend of Montluc’s.
“The Crown was unjust to M. de Negrepelisse; he received neither a
marshal’s baton, nor a post as governor, nor any indemnity; King Charles
IX., who was fond of him, died without being able to reward him; Henri
IV. arranged his marriage with Mademoiselle d’Espard, and secured
him the estates of that house, but all those of the Negrepelisses had
already passed into the hands of his creditors.
“My great-grandfather, the Marquis d’Espard, was, like me, placed early
in life at the head of his family by the death of his father, who, after
dissipating his wife’s fortune, left his son nothing but the entailed
estates of the d’Espards, burdened with a jointure. The young Marquis
was all the more straitened for money because he held a post at Court.
Being in great favor with Louis XIV., the King’s goodwill brought him
a fortune. But here, monsieur, a blot stained our escutcheon, an
unconfessed and horrible stain of blood and disgrace which I am making
it my business to wipe out. I discovered the secret among the deeds
relating to the estate of Negrepelisse and the packets of letters.”
At this solemn moment the Marquis spoke without hesitation or any of the
repetition habitual with him; but it is a matter of common observation
that persons who, in ordinary life, are afflicted with these two
defects, are freed from them as soon as any passionate emotion underlies
their speech.
“The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was decreed,” he went on. “You
are no doubt aware, monsieur, that this was an opportunity for many
favorites to make their fortunes. Louis XIV. bestowed on the magnates
about his Court the confiscated lands of those Protestant families who
did not take the prescribed steps for the sale of their property. Some
persons in high favor went ‘Protestant-hunting,’ as the phrase was. I
have ascertained beyond a doubt that the fortune enjoyed to this day by
two ducal families is derived from lands seized from hapless merchants.
“I will not attempt to explain to you, a man of law, all the manoeuvres
employed to entrap the refugees who had large fortunes to carry away. It
is enough to say that the lands of Negrepelisse, comprising twenty-two
churches and rights over the town, and those of Gravenges which had
formerly belonged to us, were at that time in the hands of a Protestant
family. My grandfather recovered them by gift from Louis XIV. This gift
was effected by documents hall-marked by atrocious iniquity. The owner
of these two estates, thinking he would be able to return, had gone
through the form of a sale, and was going to Switzerland to join his
family, whom he had sent in advance. He wished, no doubt, to take
advantage of every delay granted by the law, so as to settle the
concerns of his business.
“This man was arrested by order of the governor, the trustee confessed
the truth, the poor merchant was hanged, and my ancestor had the two
estates. I would gladly have been able to ignore the share he took in
the plot; but the governor was his uncle on the mother’s side, and I
have unfortunately read the letter in which he begged him to apply to
Deodatus, the name agreed upon by the Court to designate the King. In
this letter there is a tone of jocosity with reference to the victim,
which filled me with horror. In the end, the sums of money sent by the
refugee family to ransom the poor man were kept by the governor, who
despatched the merchant all the same.”
The Marquis paused, as though the memory of it were still too heavy for
him to bear.
“This unfortunate family were named Jeanrenaud,” he went on. “That name
is enough to account for my conduct. I could never think without keen
pain of the secret disgrace that weighed on my family. That fortune
enabled my grandfather to marry a demoiselle de Navarreins-Lansac,
heiress to the younger branch of that house, who were at that time much
richer than the elder branch of the Navarreins. My father thus became
one of the largest landowners in the kingdom. He was able to marry
my mother, a Grandlieu of the younger branch. Though ill-gotten, this
property has been singularly profitable.
“For my part, being determined to remedy the mischief, I wrote
to Switzerland, and knew no peace till I was on the traces of the
Protestant victim’s heirs. At last I discovered that the Jeanrenauds,
reduced to abject want, had left Fribourg and returned to live in
France. Finally, I found a M. Jeanrenaud, lieutenant in a cavalry
regiment under Napoleon, the sole heir of this unhappy family. In my
eyes, monsieur, the rights of the Jeanrenauds were clear. To establish a
prescriptive right is it not necessary that there should have been some
possibility of proceeding against those who are in the enjoyment of it?
To whom could these refugees have appealed? Their Court of Justice was
on high, or rather, monsieur, it was here,” and the Marquis struck his
hand on his heart. “I did not choose that my children should be able to
think of me as I have thought of my father and of my ancestors. I aim at
leaving them an unblemished inheritance and escutcheon. I did not choose
that nobility should be a lie in my person. And, after all,
politically speaking, ought those emigres who are now appealing
against revolutionary confiscations, to keep the property derived from
antecedent confiscations by positive crimes?
“I found in M. Jeanrenaud and his mother the most perverse honesty; to
hear them you would suppose that they were robbing me. In spite of all
I could say, they will accept no more than the value of the lands at
the time when the King bestowed them on my family. The price was settled
between us at the sum of eleven hundred thousand francs, which I was
to pay at my convenience and without interest. To achieve this I had
to forego my income for a long time. And then, monsieur, began the
destruction of some illusions I had allowed myself as to Madame
d’Espard’s character. When I proposed to her that we should leave Paris
and go into the country, where we could live respected on half of her
income, and so more rapidly complete a restitution of which I spoke to
her without going into the more serious details, Madame d’Espard treated
me as a madman. I then understood my wife’s real character. She would
have approved of my grandfather’s conduct without a scruple, and have
laughed at the Huguenots. Terrified by her coldness, and her little
affection for her children, whom she abandoned to me without regret,
I determined to leave her the command of her fortune, after paying our
common debts. It was no business of hers, as she told me, to pay for
my follies. As I then had not enough to live on and pay for my sons’
education, I determined to educate them myself, to make them gentlemen
and men of feeling. By investing my money in the funds I have been
enabled to pay off my obligation sooner than I had dared to hope, for
I took advantage of the opportunities afforded by the improvement
in prices. If I had kept four thousand francs a year for my boys and
myself, I could only have paid off twenty thousand crowns a year, and it
would have taken almost eighteen years to achieve my freedom. As it is,
I have lately repaid the whole of the eleven hundred thousand
francs that were due. Thus I enjoy the happiness of having made this
restitution without doing my children the smallest wrong.
“These, monsieur, are the reasons for the payments made to Madame
Jeanrenaud and her son.”
“So Madame d’Espard knew the motives of your retirement?” said the
judge, controlling the emotion he felt at this narrative.
“Yes, monsieur.”
Popinot gave an expressive shrug; he rose and opened the door into the
next room.
“Noel, you can go,” said he to his clerk.
“Monsieur,” he went on, “though what you have told me is enough to
enlighten me thoroughly, I should like to hear what you have to say to
the other facts put forward in the petition. For instance, you are here
carrying on a business such as is not habitually undertaken by a man of
rank.”
“We cannot discuss that matter here,” said the Marquis, signing to the
judge to quit the room. “Nouvion,” said he to the old man, “I am going
down to my rooms; the children will soon be in; dine with us.”
“Then, Monsieur le Marquis,” said Popinot on the stairs, “that is not
your apartment?”
“No, monsieur; I took those rooms for the office of this undertaking.
You see,” and he pointed to an advertisement sheet, “the History is
being brought out by one of the most respectable firms in Paris, and not
by me.”
The Marquis showed the lawyer into the ground-floor rooms, saying, “This
is my apartment.”
Popinot was quite touched by the poetry, not aimed at but pervading this
dwelling. The weather was lovely, the windows were open, the air from
the garden brought in a wholesome earthy smell, the sunshine brightened
and gilded the woodwork, of a rather gloomy brown. At the sight Popinot
made up his mind that a madman would hardly be capable of inventing the
tender harmony of which he was at that moment conscious.
“I should like just such an apartment,” thought he. “You think of
leaving this part of town?” he inquired.
“I hope so,” replied the Marquis. “But I shall remain till my younger
son has finished his studies, and till the children’s character is
thoroughly formed, before introducing them to the world and to their
mother’s circle. Indeed, after giving them the solid information
they possess, I intend to complete it by taking them to travel to
the capitals of Europe, that they may see men and things, and become
accustomed to speak the languages they have learned. And, monsieur,”
he went on, giving the judge a chair in the drawing-room, “I could not
discuss the book on China with you, in the presence of an old friend of
my family, the Comte de Nouvion, who, having emigrated, has returned
to France without any fortune whatever, and who is my partner in this
concern, less for my profit than his. Without telling him what my
motives were, I explained to him that I was as poor as he, but that I
had enough money to start a speculation in which he might be usefully
employed. My tutor was the Abbe Grozier, whom Charles X. on my
recommendation appointed Keeper of the Books at the Arsenal, which were
returned to that Prince when he was still Monsieur. The Abbe Grozier was
deeply learned with regard to China, its manners and customs; he made
me heir to this knowledge at an age when it is difficult not to become a
fanatic for the things we learn. At five-and-twenty I knew Chinese,
and I confess I have never been able to check myself in an exclusive
admiration for that nation, who conquered their conquerors, whose annals
extend back indisputably to a period more remote than mythological or
Bible times, who by their immutable institutions have preserved
the integrity of their empire, whose monuments are gigantic, whose
administration is perfect, among whom revolutions are impossible, who
have regarded ideal beauty as a barren element in art, who have carried
luxury and industry to such a pitch that we cannot outdo them in
anything, while they are our equals in things where we believe ourselves
superior.