Count Ville-Handry had hardly closed the door, when M. de Brevan rushed
out of the bedroom in which he had been concealed.
“Was I right?” he exclaimed.
But Daniel did not hear him. He had forgotten his very presence.
Overcome by the great effort he had made to conceal his emotions, he had
sunk into a chair, hiding his face in his hands, and said to himself
in a mournful voice, and as if trying to convince himself of an
overwhelming fact,--
“The count has lost his mind altogether, and we are lost.”
The grief of this excellent young man was so great and so bitter, that
M. de Brevan seemed to be deeply moved. He looked at him for some
time with an air of pity, and then suddenly, as if yielding to a good
impulse, he touched his shoulder, and said,--
“Daniel!”
The unhappy man started like one who has suddenly been roused from deep
slumber; and, as he recalled what had just happened, he said,--
“You have heard all, Maxime?”
“All! I have not lost a word nor a gesture. But do not blame me for my
indiscretion. It enables me to give you some friendly advice. You know I
have paid dear for my experience.”
He hesitated, being at a loss how to express his ideas; then he
continued in a short, sharp tone,--
“You love Miss Ville-Handry?”
“More than my life, don’t you know?”
“Well, if that is so, abandon all thoughts of useless resistance; induce
Miss Henrietta to do as her father wishes; and persuade Miss Brandon to
let your wedding take place a month after her own. But ask for special
pledges. Miss Ville-Handry may suffer somewhat during that month; but
the day after your wedding you will carry her off to your own home, and
leave the poor old man to his amorous folly.”
Daniel showed in his face that this suggestion opened a new prospect
before him.
“I had not thought of that,” he said.
“It is all you can do.”
“Yes, it is what prudence would advise me to do. But can I do so in
honor?”
“Oh, honor, honor!”
“Would it not be wrong in me to abandon the poor old man to the mercy of
Miss Brandon and her accomplices?”
“You will never be able to rescue him, my dear fellow.”
“I ought at least to try. You thought so yesterday, and even this
morning, not two hours ago.”
Maxime could scarcely hide his impatience.
“I did not know then what I know now,” he said.
Daniel had risen, and was walking up and down the small room, replying
to his own objections, rather than to those raised by Brevan.
“If I were alone master,” he said, “I might, perhaps, agree to a
capitulation. But could Henrietta accept it? Never, never! Her father
knows her well. She is as weak as a child; but at the proper moment she
can develop a masculine energy and an iron will.”
“Why should you tell her at all who Miss Brandon is?”
“I have pledged my word of honor to tell her every thing.”
Brevan again shrugged his shoulders, and there was no mistaking what he
meant by that gesture. He might just as well have said aloud, “Can one
conceive such stupidity?”
“Then you had better give up your Henrietta, my poor fellow,” he said.
But Daniel’s despair had been overcome. He ground his teeth with anger,
and said,--
“Not yet, my friend, not yet! An honest man who defends his honor and
his life is pretty strong. I have no experience, that is true; but I
have you, Maxime; and I know I can always count upon you.”
Daniel did not seem to have noticed that M. de Brevan, at first all fire
and energy, had rapidly cooled off, like a man, who, having ventured too
far, thinks he has made a mistake, and tries to retrace his steps.
“Certainly you may count upon me,” he replied; “but what can be done?”
“Well, what you said yourself. I shall call upon Miss Brandon, and watch
her. I shall dissemble, and gain time. If necessary, I shall employ
detectives, and find out her antecedents. I shall try to interest some
high personage in my behalf,--my minister, for instance, who is very
kind to me. Besides, I have an idea.”
“Ah!”
“That unlucky cashier, whose story you told me, and who, you think, is
not dead--if we could find him. How did you call him? Oh, Malgat! An
advertisement inserted in all the leading newspapers of Europe would, no
doubt, reach him; and the hope of seeing himself avenged”--
M. de Brevan’s cheeks began to redden perceptibly. He broke out with
strange vehemence,--
“What nonsense!”