“Besides, I have long since known you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, sir. And I even know that you are one of the most frequent
visitors at Count Ville-Handry’s house.”
She looked at Daniel with a kind of malicious simplicity, and then
added,
“_I_ do not mean to say that the count would not be wrong if he
attributed your frequent visits exclusively to his own merits. I have
heard something of a certain young lady”--
“Sarah,” here broke in Mrs. Brian, “what you say there is highly
improper.” This reproof, so far from checking Miss Sarah’s merriment,
only seemed to increase it. Without losing sight of Daniel, she turned
to her aunt, and said,--
“Since the count is not opposed to this gentleman’s paying his
attentions to his daughter, I think I may safely speak of them. It would
be such an extraordinary thing, if any thing should happen to interfere
with his hopes!”
Daniel, who had blushed all over, suddenly became deadly pale. After all
that he had been told, these words sounded to him, in spite of the loud
laugh that accompanied them, like a warning and a threat. But he was
not allowed the time to reflect. The piece was coming to an end; Miss
Brandon was drawing a fur cloak over her shoulders, and left on the
count’s arm; while he had to escort Mrs. Brian, being closely followed
by tall, stiff Sir Thorn. The landau was at the door. The servants had
let down the steps; and Miss Sarah was just getting in. Suddenly, as her
foot touched the bottom of the carriage, she drew back, and cried out,--
“What is that? What is in there?”
The count came forward, looking visibly embarrassed.
“You are fond of roses,” he said, “and I have ordered a few.”
With these words he took up some of the leaves, and showed them to her.
But immediately Miss Brandon’s terror was changed into wrath.
“You certainly are bent upon making me angry,” she said. “You want
people to say everywhere that I make you commit all kinds of follies.
What a glorious thing to waste fifty dollars on flowers, when one has I
know not how many millions!”
Then, seeing by the light of the street-lamp that the count’s face
showed deep disappointment, she said in a tone to make him lose the
little reason that was left him,--
“You would have been more welcome if you had brought me a cent’s worth
of violets.”
In the mean time Mrs. Brian had taken her seat by Miss Brandon’s side;
Sir Thorn had gotten in; and it was now the count’s turn. At the moment
when the servant was closing the door, Miss Sarah bent forward toward
Daniel, and said,--
“I hope I shall have the pleasure of soon seeing you again. Our dear
count will give you my address, and tell you my reception-days. I must
tell you that we American girls dote upon naval officers, and that I”--
The remainder was lost in the noise of the wheels. The carriage which
took Miss Brandon and Count Ville-Handry away was already at some
distance, before Daniel could recover from his amazement, his utter
consternation.
All these strange events, coming upon him one by one, in the course of
a few hours, and breaking suddenly in upon so calm and quiet a life,
overwhelmed him to such a degree, that he was not quite sure whether he
was dreaming or awake.
Alas! he was not dreaming. This Miss Sarah Brandon, who had just passed
away from him like a glorious vision from on high, was only too real;
and there, on the muddy pavement, a handful of rose-leaves bore witness
of the power of her charms, and the folly of her aged lover.
“Ah, we are lost!” exclaimed Daniel, in so loud a voice, that some of
the passers-by stopped, expecting one of those street-dramas which
read so strikingly in the local columns of our papers. They were
disappointed, however. Noticing that he attracted attention, Daniel
shrugged his shoulders, and quickly walked off towards the boulevards.
He had promised Henrietta to be sure to tell her that very evening, if
possible, what he had found out; but it was too late now; midnight was
striking.
“I’ll go to-morrow,” he said to himself.
Whilst lounging leisurely down the boulevards, still brilliantly lighted
up, and crowded with people, he strained all his faculties for the
purpose of examining his situation coolly and calmly. At first he
had imagined he should only have to do with one of those common
_intriguantes_ who want to secure themselves a quiet old age, and
clumsily spread their nets to catch an old or a young man; and who
can always easily be gotten rid of by paying them a more or less
considerable sum of money, provided the police does not get hold of
them. In such a case he would have had some hope.
But here he saw himself suddenly confronted by one of those formidable
adventuresses in high life, who either save appearances altogether, or,
at worst, are only compromised far enough to give additional zest and
an air of mystery to their relations. How could he hope to compete with
such a woman? and with what weapons could he attack her? How should he
reach her? and how attack her?
Was it not pure folly to think even of making her give up the
magnificent fortune which she seemed already to have in her hands,
Heaven knows by what means? She evidently looked upon it as her own
already, and enjoyed its charms in anticipation.
“Great God!” said Daniel, “send me some inspiration.”
But no inspiration came; and in vain did he torture his mind; he was
unable to think.
When he reached home, he went to bed as usual; but the consciousness of
his misfortunes kept him awake. At nine o’clock in the morning, having
never closed his eyes, and feeling utterly overcome by sleeplessness and
fatigue, he was just about to get up, when some one knocked at his door.
He rose hastily, put on his clothes, and went to open the door. It was
M. de Brevan, who came to hear all about his new acquaintance of last
night, and whose first word was,--
“Well?”
“Alas!” replied Daniel, “I think the wisest plan would be to give it
up.”
“Upon my word, you are in great haste to surrender.”
“And what would you do in my place, eh? That woman has beauty enough to
drive any one mad; and the count is a lost man.”
And, before Maxime had time to reply, Daniel told him simply and
frankly all about his love for Miss Ville-Handry, the hopes he had been
encouraged to cherish, and the dangers that threatened his happiness in
life.
“For I can no longer deceive myself, Maxime,” he concluded with a tone
of utter despair. “I foresee, I know, what is going to happen. Henrietta
will obstinately, and at any risk, do every thing in the world to
prevent her father’s marriage with Miss Brandon; she will struggle to
the bitter end. Ought I, or ought I not, to help her? Certainly. Can we
succeed? No! But we shall have a mortal enemy in Miss Brandon; and, on
the morning after her wedding, her first thought will be how to avenge
herself, and how to separate Henrietta and myself forever.”
Little as Brevan was generally given to show his feelings, he was
evidently deeply touched by his friend’s despair.
“In short, my dear fellow, you have reached the point at which we no
longer know what to do. All the more reason, then, that you should
listen to the calm advice of a friend. You must have yourself presented
at Miss Brandon’s house.”
“She has invited me.”
“Well, then, do not hesitate, but go there.”
“What for?”
“Not for much. You will pay some compliments to Miss Sarah; you will
be all attention to Mrs. Brian; and you will try to win over the Hon.
Thomas Elgin. Finally, and above all, you will be all ears and all
eyes.”
“I am sorry to say I do not understand you yet.”
“What? Don’t you see that the position of these daring adventurers,
however secure it may appear, may, after all, hang on a single
thread? and that nothing is wanting in order to cut that thread but an
opportunity? And when you may expect, at any moment, any thing and every
thing, what is to be done but to wait and watch?”