MYSTERIES
The illness of M. de Létorière drew towards its close; he was nearly
convalescent, thanks to the assiduous care of Madelaine, her husband,
and Martin Kraft, the apprentice. Each had vied with the good Dominique
in devotion to him. The Marquis had shown himself so affectionately
grateful for all these touching proofs of interest, had appeared so to
justify and merit them by his delicacy and the goodness of his heart,
that the tailor and his wife became more and more attached to their
"dear young gentleman," as they called him.
Spring approached; one day Dominique, who had gone out to endeavor to
persuade an attorney to follow up one of the lawsuits of Létorière,
came back with a face at once radiant and astonished; the apprentice
Kraft followed him, bringing carefully an immense basket filled with the
rarest fruits and flowers. On a little paper attached by a pin to a
magnificent pine-apple, were written these words: "_To Monsieur the
Marquis of Létorière._"
After having admired this charming gift, with almost childish curiosity,
and vainly seeking to learn from whom it came, for an unknown man had
left the basket with the porter, the Marquis replaced the address with
the following:--"_To my good friends Landry and his wife_," and told
Kraft to carry as his gift the fruit and flowers to Master Landry.
"Tell them I do not know whence this gift comes, but it is the first and
only thing I have to offer them, and I send it to them as a proof of my
eternal gratitude."
Some days after, he had another surprise. In a beautiful little
writing-desk left at the porter's by one of the boys of Bordier, the
celebrated worker in ebony, the Marquis found this note:
"Your heart tells you truly that some one is interested in you. That is
well. Send these two letters as addressed."
In one compartment of the desk Létorière found two sealed letters. One
was addressed:
_To Monsieur Landry, tailor, at The Golden Scissors._
The other: _To Mons. Buston, attorney to the Castle._
This gentleman, the lawyer engaged in the Marquis's lawsuit, had hardly
been willing to take any steps for fear of not being paid for his
services.
Létorière and Dominique looked at each other in amazement.
"What did I tell you?" cried the ex-professor; "will you believe me now?
will you defy your destiny? I have always told you that you would have
nothing to envy in the son of Clinias!"
Surprised at this incident, whose consequences he could not foresee, the
Marquis begged Dominique to deliver the attorney's letter, and sent
Master Landry's by the porter. An hour after, the tailor, Madelaine, and
the apprentice were at the feet of the young gentleman.
"Thanks to you, Monsieur the Marquis, I have the patronage of
Monseigneur the Duke of Bourbon!" cried Landry. "It is a clear and net
profit of six thousand livres a year! Behold me, in future, a rich man!"
"Thanks to you, Monsieur the Marquis, our neighbor Mathurin, who got
from us all our custom, will burst with envy," said Madelaine.
"Thanks to you, Monsieur the Marquis, Dame Madelaine, angry at seeing
our customers leave us, will give me no more cuff's!" said Martin Kraft.
"My friends," replied Létorière, "I am extremely pleased at what has
happened to you; but I declare to you, that unfortunately I have had
nothing to do with it."
"Ah, Monsieur the Marquis, why will you say that?" said Madelaine,
reproachfully; and drawing from her pocket the precious missive, she
read: 'Master Landry is informed that at the express recommendation of
the Marquis of Létorière, Monseigneur the Duke of Bourbon deigns to
appoint him his personal tailor, as well as that of his household'; you
see that, Monsieur the Marquis?" said Madelaine; and, gazing at
Létorière with eyes filled with tears of joy, she added: "This custom
makes our fortunes forever . . . Ah, well! on the faith of an honest
woman, the basket of flowers and the note that the Marquis sent us
yesterday, gave us perhaps more pleasure!"
"And you are right, my friends," said Létorière; "for yesterday it was
truly I who sent you the present, not knowing whence it came. But to-day
I did not know what the letter contained; it is a mystery that I cannot
solve."
At this moment Dominique entered his countenance completely changed; he
had come up the five flights of stairs with so much haste that he could
hardly speak; the only words he could utter in a broken voice were:
"rich . . . rich . . . the attorney . . . the lawsuit . . . I was
right!" . . . And he threw himself on the neck of his pupil with
theatrical fervor.
"Be calm, my good Dominique," said the Marquis. "Tell me something of
this happy news which so transports you . . ."
"Oh, yes, by heaven! this is good news!" said the ex-professor, still
breathless. "Imagine me going to this Buston's . . . this bird of
prey . . . your solicitor. . . . When the clerks see me enter his office,
they begin the umbecoming pleasantries with which they have always greeted
me . . . I despise them, after the manner of Socrates, and ask to see Mr.
Buston. . . . As usual, these impudent young blackguards answer me in
chorus in all tones of voice . . . 'he is not here! he is not here!' In
the midst of this infernal racket, I approach the first clerk and show
him my letter. . . . Ah! if you could have seen his countenance!" cried
Dominique, bursting with laughter and slapping his thighs.
"Well! well! finish, then," said the Marquis.
"Well! the first clerk had already opened his mouth to utter some piece
of insolence; but as soon as he recognized the writing on the letter, he
became serious as a thrashed donkey, imposed silence on his comrades,
and rose, saying to me respectfully: 'I will have the honor of
conducting Mr. Dominique to my master.' I entered the presence of the
solicitor, until then invisible or insolent. Quite another reception!
The vulture had become a young turtle-dove, and cooed at me these words,
after he had read the letter: 'I have never for an instant doubted the
successful issue of the Marquis's lawsuit against the Intendant of
Xaintonge, touching the forests of Brion. . . . This letter removes the
only difficulties which prevented the prosecution of the case, which I
will immediately attend to, while waiting for the documents of the great
lawsuit against the German princes. I have also so much faith in the
validity of the cause of Monsieur the Marquis, that I am willing, sir,
to open an account with him to the amount of twenty thousand livres
. . . this sum not being the fifth part of that which he will obtain for
his claims on the Intendancy of Xaintonge."
"But it is a dream! a dream!" said the Marquis, putting his hand to his
forehead.
"Truly, it seems to me such," replied Dominique, "and in order to assure
myself of its reality, I accepted the offer of Mr. Buston, having your
power of attorney."
"Well," said Létorière, "go on" . . .
"Yes, well," said Dominique, handing a portfolio to the Marquis,--"on my
simple receipt, he has advanced twenty thousand livres, which behold, in
bonds at sight, on the public funds." . . .
It would be impossible to paint the astonishment and joy of the actors
in this scene.
After thanks and benedictions without number, the tailor, his wife, and
apprentice, retired.
The Marquis remaining alone with Dominique, exhausted himself with vain
conjectures as to the source of this mysterious favor. Bordier, the
worker in ebony, could give no information as to the purchaser of the
desk. The solicitor, maintained the most obstinate silence as to the
contents and author of the letter which had made so great a change in
his view of the Marquis's lawsuit. Later, the private secretary of the
Duke of Bourbon answered, that his Highness had himself ordered the
appointment of Master Landry to be tailor of his household.
When the health of the Marquis was fully reestablished, he went to
occupy, with Dominique, a small apartment in the Faubourg St. Germain.
The brave Jerome Sicard, the coachman who was willing to carry
Létorière _gratis_, because he resembled _a good angel_, was installed
there, to his great joy, as valet-de-chambre. This was the only
recompense which he solicited, when the Marquis asked him in what manner
he should acknowledge his services. It is unnecessary to say that
Sicard, Master Landry, and his wife, were also generously and delicately
recompensed for their kindness.
Very strangely, none of the noble actions of the Marquis remained
unknown to his mysterious protector. A little note arrived by post,
containing these words . . .--"It is well . . . continue . . . you are
always watched." . . .
At other times he received suggestions full of wisdom: he was
recommended to enjoy the pleasures of the world and of his age, but
always to preserve the integrity and loyalty of his character; for _on
that his future depended._
At still other times, Létorière was advised to accomplish himself in
all the exercises of a gentleman. He heeded this counsel, and soon
excelled in fencing, riding, and all the games which require agility and
dexterity.
Sometimes these letters, which revealed a growing and enduring
affection, reached the Marquis by charming and unexpected means; at one
time in a beautiful Sèvres vase, filled with flowers, which an unknown
person left with the porter; at another, a perfume-bag, wonderfully
embroidered with his arms and cypher, would be found in his pocket on
his return from a game of tennis.
This singular correspondence had lasted nearly a year, when Létorière
gained his lawsuit against the Intendancy of Xaintonge.
The day after judgment was given, a groom, in the livery of the Marquis,
brought him two magnificent English horses, which were just then coming
into fashion. Their harness and equipments were marvels of richness and
elegance. A letter, in these words, accompanied the gift:
"Your lawsuit is gained; you can now live as is becoming a gentleman of
your rank. You will go to Chévin, the genealogist; he will arrange your
titles to nobility; you will deposit them in the archives, in order to
be presented to the king, and to have the _entrée_ to the court. You
will undoubtedly have the honor of hunting with his majesty. These
horses will serve you. Your conduct is satisfactory."
To all Létorière's questions, the groom's only answer was that an
unknown person had bought the horses of Gabart, a famous dealer of that
day, adding that he would, in a short time, bring the equipments. As to
the unknown man, he was clothed in black, rather stout, and about fifty
years old.
Some time after this new surprise, the Marquis received the
following note:
"Go this evening to the opera ball; wait near the King's Corner between
twelve and one o'clock; wear a black domino, and attach to it a blue and
white ribbon."
Létorière had never been to an opera ball in his life. Though not
leading the life of a recluse, he had hitherto employed his time in his
academical studies, in walking with Dominique, in long readings of Greek
and Latin poets, and frequent attendance at the Comédie Française.
Although Dominique had no deep insight into the human heart, he was
sometimes uneasy at seeing his pupil so calm at an age when the passions
often assert themselves so energetically. At one time the worthy man had
thought that the mysterious protector of his pupil was a woman; but he
had never mentioned his suspicions to Létorière.
When the latter informed Dominique that he was going to the opera ball,
the ex-professor conceived the happy idea of accompanying his pupil.
Létorière was pleased with the plan, and they set off together.
Once launched into the vortex, the two friends, embarrassed like
provincials, had great trouble in finding the King's Corner, and were at
first victims of the raillery of the spectators; the Marquis's figure
was so slender, his manner so elegant, his foot so pretty, and his hands
so charming, that he was easily taken for a woman; while Dominique,
tall, bony, awkward and clumsy, passed for the husband.
Létorière reddened with anger under his mask, and needed all the
authority and persuasion of Dominique to prevent him from bursting out.
Presently two dominoes approached them.
The tallest figure took Dominique's arm, while the smaller, approaching
Létorière, whispered these words in his ear: _Continue . . . we
are . . . persevere . . . and hope._ . . .
The Marquis felt a little box slipped into his hand, and before he could
say one word, or make a motion, the domino was lost in the crowd.
Létorière was enchanted. The voice which had whispered in his ear the
same words that his unknown protector had so often written, was the
voice of a woman, and of infinite sweetness; he thought he saw, shining
through the silken mask, two great blue eyes.
Intoxicated with joy, feeling a thousand new emotions rising in his
breast, he utterly forgot Dominique, and had the insane idea of finding
again his domino, believing he should recognize among a thousand the
great blue eyes which were fixed upon his with such a singularly tender
expression. Towards five o'clock in the morning he realized the futility
of his search, and returned home, impatient to know what the box
contained.
He found within, one of those large seal rings then so fashionable: it
was surrounded by diamonds, and on the enamelled centre was painted with
admirable delicacy in the midst of a cloud, a charming blue eye, whose
expression was such, that Létorière recognized at once the sweet and
tender look of his domino. On the setting were these words, in
microscopic characters: _It follows you everywhere._
The letter contained these words: "You are twenty years old, young,
handsome, noble, brilliant, and charming; you have enough money to be
extravagant. Your future is in your own hands . . . we shall see if the
counsels we have given you for a year will continue to bear fruit . . .
we shall write to you no more . . . you have free liberty . . . _but you
be followed everywhere._ In four years from this time, whether or not
your conduct equals our expectations, you will receive a letter . . .
Henceforth, then, hope and persevere . . ."
During a month the Marquis was almost devoured by curiosity. He walked
the streets like a crazy person, looking anxiously at all the blue eyes
he met, and comparing them with his ring; many beautiful blue eyes
timidly fell before his ardent and restless gaze; others responded
languidly, others angrily, but he discovered nothing.
He remembered that he had been requested to deposit his titles in the
archives, in order that he might be received at court; he fulfilled the
necessary formalities, and waited the return of one of his distant
relatives, the Count of Appreville, to have the honor of being presented
to King Louis XV.