have told you, he always showed the greatest friendliness for her
father. On that fatal day, when I went to Couberon, I left Ami at Paris.
When he saw me again after the duel, instead of coming to meet me as he
usually did, he retreated, making a plaintive sort of groaning noise;
one would have said that he meant to reproach me for what I had done. It
took a long time to recover his affection, and he never fawned upon me
again until he had seen me weeping over Adhémar’s grave.”
“Good dog! See, he is looking at us and listening to us; one would think
that he knows what we are talking about.--Dear Agathe! so I shall see
her happy at last! she will be able to marry him she loves! You will
oppose no obstacles to her marrying Edmond Didier, will you?”
“I, madame, oppose obstacles to her happiness, when it is my duty, on
the contrary, to do everything to ensure it! Is it not my duty?--Whether
her father’s uncle leaves her his fortune or not, I have thirty thousand
francs a year, and I will give half of it to Mademoiselle Agathe on her
wedding day.”
“Oh! that is too much, monsieur! you mustn’t do so much for the young
couple.--How delighted poor Edmond will be.”
“How does it happen that he is not here to-night?”
“He could not refuse to attend a grand fête given to-night by some
people who have been living here a short time. His friend Freluchon and
he are old acquaintances of Monsieur and Madame de Belleville.”
“Monsieur Edmond at Madame de Belleville’s?”
“Yes.--That lady’s name seems to excite you strangely. Do you know her?”
“Do I know her! Why, this pretended Madame de Belleville is no other
than Thélénie--the woman whose treachery caused Comte Adhémar’s death.”
“What do you tell me? Can it be true?”
“Yes. Only to-day, this morning, did I learn it. I had just returned
from Paris when a woman on horseback appeared at my house, made a great
outcry in my courtyard, and demanded to speak to me, in order to
complain of my dog, which had presumed to jump at her and her horse.
Fancy my amazement on recognizing in that person the woman who no longer
inspires me with any other sentiments than horror and disgust! Ah! I
believe that, when she recognized me, she was very sorry that she had
come to the Tower.--But I am sorry that Edmond has gone to Thélénie’s
house; I am sorry that he knows her; for if there has ever been a
liaison between them, and she knows that he is in love now with the
lovely Agathe, we must expect anything from that creature; she is
capable of anything, if her self-esteem is humbled.”
“Mon Dieu! you make me shudder! Your words remind me of the strange way
in which she stared at Agathe, and of Agathe’s melancholy mood
to-night!--But what could that woman do to Edmond?”
“I trust that our apprehensions are without foundation; however,
to-morrow Monsieur Edmond shall know this Thélénie as she is, and I am
quite sure that he will never darken her doors again.--Mon Dieu! it is
very late, and I am keeping you from retiring.”
“Do you think that I regret seeing you this evening?”
“No, you are so good--you are so attached to your young companion!”
“You give me permission, do you not, to tell her to-morrow all that you
have revealed to me to-night?”
“Yes, let her know all; and to-morrow, when I come, you will tell me,
before I enter the presence of Comte Adhémar’s daughter, whether she is
willing to receive me and give me her hand.”
“I have already told you that Agathe saw you on your knees by the cross
in the ravine; that sight has remained engraved on her memory, she has
often mentioned it to me; that fact is enough to assure you that you
will be forgiven.--Mon Dieu! it is twelve o’clock, and you have to
return to the Tower alone!”
“Alone! no, isn’t Ami with me? He would be a valiant defender; but this
neighborhood is not dangerous, there are no evildoers hereabout.”
“You will come to-morrow--during the day?”
“Oh! I shall not fail; I long to see her.”
“Of course, you will not fail to come,” murmured Honorine with a faint
sigh; “for it is for Agathe!”
The young woman uttered these last words in a trembling voice. Paul
suddenly seized her hand, covered it with kisses, pressed it to his
heart, and then hurried away, unable to speak.
But what words could have been more eloquent than his acts? Honorine
understood their significance, for her face lighted up with pleasure,
and she whispered to herself as she went up to her room:
“Ah! I am very happy too!”
XXIII
THE SECONDS
On leaving the ball at Goldfish Villa, Freluchon and Edmond returned to
the house occupied by the latter.
“You will need another second for to-morrow,” said Freluchon; “where can
you find one in this place?”
“He is all found: the owner of the Tower, a gentleman of the best tone,
who comes to Madame Dalmont’s sometimes in the evening. I am sure that
he won’t refuse to do me this favor. We will go to see him early
to-morrow.”
“Very good.”
“But the most important thing of all is to keep all knowledge of this
duel, and of the quarrel of this evening as well, from the two ladies.”
“We won’t tell them; but everything becomes known so quickly in small
places like this!”
“They never go out or receive any visits; from whom then can they learn
what happened at that infernal fête?”
“So much the better; I trust you are right. But it’s daybreak already,
and we have only a short time to sleep. Let us make haste. Luckily, I
fall asleep very quickly myself.”
At eight o’clock in the morning, Edmond was out of bed and woke his
friend.
“What! already?” muttered Freluchon; “why, we’ve hardly got to bed!”
“That may be; but it’s a long distance from here to the Tower; then we
must come back, and I don’t want Monsieur Luminot’s seconds to come and
not find us.”
“Oh! never you fear; those fellows won’t be in such a hurry as you are;
especially if Chamoureau’s one of them.”
“I should say that he must be, as the affair took place in his house.”
“Then it will be more amusing; I will tell him that the seconds have to
fight also.”
Freluchon consented to rise at last, and the two friends were soon en
route for the Tower.
“I recognize this part of the country,” said Freluchon as they crossed
Gournay bridge. “This is where I came for that famous _matelote_, which
you left me to eat all alone.”
“Yes, the estate we are going to is a little beyond Gournay.”
“Ah, yes! Gournay! a little village that I could put in my pocket.
Suppose we should stop and eat a _matelote_ when we come back?”
“Can you think of such a thing? What about my duel, and the seconds I
expect?”
“If Chamoureau is one of them, they won’t come till next week.--I am
very hungry myself. Will your high-toned gentleman invite us to
breakfast? It seems to me that that is the most high-toned thing he
could do.”
Edmond’s only reply was to quicken his pace.
Freluchon trotted along behind him, saying:
“If I had known it was so far, I’d have hired an ass for us both; we
should have resembled half of the _Four Sons of Aymon_. Do you know, I
have always liked that story of the Four Sons of Aymon! particularly on
account of their horse. Horses of that build aren’t made to-day! Think
of putting four people on one of our ponies of the present day! even the
third one would be on his tail--where would the fourth one be, I would
like to know?”
The young men reached the Tower in due time. Edmond was about to ask to
speak with the proprietor, when he, having seen them coming, hastened
forward to meet the two friends.
Paul was no longer the same man; a complete change had taken place in
his whole aspect since the preceding night. In place of the gloomy,
careworn expression which was habitual to him, he presented himself to
Edmond with a smiling, expansive countenance. His dress too had
undergone a change; he was dressed with more care and had shaved part of
his beard; he was no longer the man who shuns society.
“You at my house, Monsieur Didier, and at such an early hour! This is
very kind of you. Come in, messieurs; the proprietor of the Tower is
happy to welcome you to his manor house.”
“Thanks for your cordial welcome, monsieur,” replied Edmond, taking the
hand that Paul offered him. “But we have only a few moments, and I have
come to ask you to do me a favor.”
“A favor! I am entirely at your service. But I supposed that another
motive brought you here, I thought--Have you not seen Mademoiselle
Agathe since yesterday?”
“Oh, no! and it is most important that she and Madame Dalmont should not
know of our visit to you.”
“Pardon me, monsieur,” said Freluchon, throwing himself upon a chair,
“but although he is in such a hurry, I will ask your permission to rest
a bit. He has made me run almost all the way, and it’s a long distance
from Chelles; I am used up.”
“Make yourselves at home, messieurs.--But speak, Monsieur Edmond; what
you have just said makes me anxious.”
“Monsieur, Freluchon and myself both went last night to a party given by
Monsieur and Madame de Belleville.”
“I know it.”
“I didn’t go until quite late in the evening.”
“But I dined there--which doesn’t mean that I am not very hungry this
morning.”
“You shall have breakfast here.”
“Oh! Monsieur Paul, for heaven’s sake, pay no attention to what
Freluchon says; you will see that we must go away again immediately.--At
that party I had a scene, a quarrel, with a certain Monsieur Luminot,
who lives at Chelles.”
“The ground of your quarrel--what was it?”
“The most serious imaginable, for a man of honor; he insulted the lady
whom I love, he presumed to speak in contemptuous terms of Mademoiselle
Agathe and her protectress, Madame Dalmont.--At first some ladies,
intimate friends of Madame de Belleville, began to make those slanderous
remarks which women are so adroit at flinging at people whom they
detest; but luckily a man mingled in the conversation and chose to
affirm what the women had said. I ordered him to take back his words; he
refused and I struck him!”
“Ah! you did well!” cried Paul, grasping Edmond’s arm. “Insult Agathe!
insult that good, honorable woman who has been like a mother to her! the
wretches! But those remarks, those dastardly slanders, all were
certainly prepared, concerted beforehand by Thélénie.”
“By Thélénie! Do you too know Madame de Belleville?”
“How nicely it comes about!” said Freluchon. “Parbleu! who doesn’t know
that lady?--Oh, yes! there’s her husband, Chamoureau--he has no
suspicion what she is.”
“Yes, messieurs, ten years ago that woman was my mistress, and she is
the cause of my having passed my life since then in sadness and
remorse. You shall know the whole story later; let us return to your
duel.”
“When this Monsieur Luminot received my blow, he attempted to throw
himself upon me.”
“And no one tried to prevent him,” said Freluchon. “Observe that the
worthy man is a giant and could have crushed Edmond simply by falling on
him. Luckily I arrived at that moment; I am not a giant--on the
contrary, I am rather slender and fragile to look at! But beneath this
feeble exterior, I carry a pair of small steel wrists which are equal to
the best made at Birmingham. I grabbed Luminot by the waist, lifted him
up, and tossed him at hazard. I believe that when he fell he damaged the
husband of one of the harpies who began the scene; there was no harm
done; I am only sorry that I didn’t pulverize those women at the same
time. What horrid-tasting salt they would have made! It would have been
excellent rat poison.”
“I will be your second, and I thank you for thinking of me. Monsieur is
your other second, no doubt?”
“Yes, monsieur; if I don’t die of hunger first.”
“When does your duel take place?”
“I have no idea as yet; I told the fellow that I should expect his
seconds; that is why I am in a hurry to return home.”
“I will be at your house in an hour.”
“Oh! monsieur, you have plenty of time, I assure you!” said Freluchon.
“I know Chamoureau, _alias_ de Belleville; he’ll drag the thing out.”
“I don’t know what those gentlemen may do, Freluchon, but I propose to
be there when they come. Let us go.”
“Have a glass of madeira, messieurs, to restore your strength.”
“Ah, yes! one, two, several glasses of madeira!”
“Freluchon, you are getting to be a genuine glutton!”
“My son, you are getting to be an anchorite! I shall cease to consort
with you.”
The madeira was brought, and Edmond drank a glass in haste. Freluchon
drank several in quick succession, and they took leave of their host,
agreeing to meet again soon.
That same day, but not until about noon, for they slept late at Madame
de Belleville’s, Chamoureau, having breakfasted, received orders from
his wife to go to Monsieur Luminot’s and take his instructions
concerning the duel.
Chamoureau hesitated for some time, seeking pretexts for keeping his
skirts clear of the affair; but Thélénie said to him imperatively:
“You cannot break your promise, and you promised Monsieur Luminot to be
his second. After all, monsieur, what are you afraid of? seconds don’t
fight.”
That assurance emboldened Chamoureau, who took his hat and cane, then
considered a moment whether he should not put on a leather chest
protector, lest, as a second, he might receive some splashes. But his
wife urged him and pushed him out of the door; so he bent his steps
toward the former wine merchant’s house, saying to himself:
“After all, the day of the duel isn’t fixed yet; I have time ahead of
me.”
Monsieur Luminot was pacing his floor in dressing gown and slippers,
holding a foil in one hand and the sabre of a national guardsman in the
other. He stopped every moment to lunge at the wall with his foil, or to
make a cut at a wardrobe with his sabre. He thrust and parried with a
triumphant air, but at the bottom of his heart, he was by no means
overjoyed to fight; and since he had recovered his self-possession,
since the fumes of the wine and the punch had disappeared, he kept
asking himself:
“What in the devil did I meddle for? I slandered those ladies, whom I
don’t know, and who may be perfectly respectable, simply to please that
fat Droguet woman, who had said to me: ‘You will be careful to agree
with us when we attack the women in the Courtivaux house.’--I ought not
to have listened to her, I was very foolish; but I’ve got to fight
because I have been struck.”
When Chamoureau entered the room, Monsieur Luminot was just in the act
of executing a thrust with his foil, and the visitor stepped back in
dismay, crying:
“Mon Dieu! the duel has begun. In that case they don’t need me, and I am
going home!”
But the former wine merchant recalled his second.
“Well! where are you going?”
“Why, I am going home; as you’ve begun to fight, you don’t need
seconds.”
“But I am not fighting; I am just practising, to get my hand in. Pray
come in, my dear Monsieur de Belleville. Do you know, I am terribly
distressed to have had that scene in your house!”
“And what about me? Do you think it is pleasant for me?”
“I may have been wrong to speak so slightingly of those two ladies.”
“If you admit that you were wrong, then the affair is arranged, and it
isn’t worth while to fight.”
“Yes, but I received a blow!”
“If you were in the wrong----”
“Oh! I beg pardon--a blow calls for a sword-thrust. If I hadn’t received
a blow, I would say: ‘I withdraw my insulting remarks about those
ladies.’”
“Well! and if he should withdraw his blow----”
“That can hardly be done; unless he should let me give him one; then we
should be quits!”
“He won’t do that.”
“In that case, you see, I must fight.--By the way, I need another
second; two are none too many.”
“No, no! they’re none too many; perhaps you might have three or
four--that would make more people.”
“No, it’s the custom to have only two. Who in the devil can I get for
the other? I thought that you would bring one.”
“My wife didn’t tell me to.”
“Let us see--some hearty blade like you and me. Suppose I should take
Jarnouillard?”
“I have just met him; he was going to Paris.”
“The doctor? No, he would refuse; he reprobates duels!”
“He is quite right! so do I!”
“But, my dear Monsieur de Belleville, when one can do nothing else!--Ah!
Monsieur Droguet.”
“You wounded him when you fell on him last night.”
“Monsieur Remplumé then.”
“He is lame!”
“What difference does that make? he’s a tough old fellow, he used to be
a corporal in the National Guard.”
“Do you think so?”
“He has often told me so. Yes, yes, Remplumé must be my second second.
Let us go and ask him; will you be good enough to come with me? your
presence will keep him from refusing.”
“If you think that my presence will be of any service, let us go.”
“Just give me time to put on a coat and waistcoat and a cravat.”
“Go on! go on! I am in no hurry.”
“One, two!--what say you to that sword-thrust, eh?”
“Superb! you have made a hole in your partition!”
“And this sabre cut--pan! paf!”
“Magnificent! Your wardrobe is all covered with gashes; it has seen some
cruel work! Are you going to fight with sword and sabre?”
“I am tempted to choose pistols.”
“In that case, what’s the use of making holes in your partition and
hacking your wardrobe?”
“I don’t know; I will see, I will reflect.--Monsieur de Belleville, your
party was grand! and what a dinner you gave us!”
“There were some good things to eat!”
“In other words, there were dishes prepared with consummate art! I
enjoyed among other things, a salmi of partridge, _aux truffes_----”
“With snipe!”
“Ah! there were snipe! that explains it; I said to myself that it had
been kept just long enough!”
“And the mayonnaise of lobster?”
“And those white puddings _à la purée_ of chestnuts!”
The two worthies passed the whole dinner in review, pausing to descant
upon the dishes they had enjoyed most. This had lasted some time, when
Monsieur Luminot exclaimed:
“Mon Dieu! and my duel!”
“I hoped he had forgotten it,” thought Chamoureau.
But it was after two o’clock when they went to Monsieur Remplumé’s
house. The little lame man received them, coughing, spitting and
sneezing as usual.
“You know about the scene that took place last evening at Monsieur de
Belleville’s ball, do you not?” asked Luminot, laying his hand on the
lame man’s shoulder.
“Yes, yes! I know all about it, it has made noise enough; no one is
talking about anything else all over the country. Besides, I arrived
just as you fell on top of poor Droguet; you knocked out three of his
teeth!”
“Two!”
“Three! he found there was another one missing when he got home.”
“It isn’t my fault; why did he happen to be under me when I fell?”
“That’s so; hum! hum! hum! When I go to bed so late, it makes my cough
worse.”
“You know that I am to fight with Monsieur Edmond Didier, neighbor?”
“I know that he struck you, but I didn’t know whether you were going to
fight or not.”
“Do you think that I will swallow that blow? Wouldn’t you fight if you
were in my place, you who have been a corporal in the National Guard?”
“I? hum! hum! _Sapredié!_ hum! hum! Oh! but I’m a swordsman, I am! It
isn’t safe to look askance at me!--Hum! hum! I’ve got a horrid lump in
my throat!”
“Do you think that I’ll let anyone tread on my toes?”
“I never said so. Hum! hum!”
“As you’re such a swordsman, you will be my second witness; you will
enjoy it.”
“Your witness! to what?”
“Parbleu! to my duel with that popinjay who insulted me. Monsieur de
Belleville is kind enough to be my principal second, and you must be the
other.”
“Oh! but--I’ve got a very bad cold!”
“It won’t interfere with your coughing; I hope that I may count on you?”
“Let’s see--first, let’s see why you are going to fight?”
“Because I have received a blow.”
“Very good; but why did he strike you?”
“Why? because I said that this Madame Dalmont and her friend were
hussies--didn’t amount to much.”
“But you were in the wrong. Why did you say that? are you sure of it?”
“Sure! not at all; but it was your ladies who did nothing but say it
over and over again, and worked me up to it; besides, I was full of
punch.”
“You should never make statements that you’re not sure of; isn’t that
so, Monsieur de Belleville?”
Chamoureau scratched his nose, trying to think of a reply; but stout
Luminot exclaimed:
“Enough of this! Sacrebleu! Monsieur Remplumé, you can’t refuse to be my
second in an affair in which your wife urged me on to the quarrel, with
the other ladies.”
“Monsieur, if my wife urged you on, I will be--hum! hum!--your second; I
will put some licorice in my pocket--When do you fight?”
“That is for you two to arrange with this Monsieur Edmond’s
seconds.--After all, I’d rather fight with him than with the fellow who
grabbed me and tossed me in the air. Ah! the rascal! what muscle! what a
biceps!”
“That was Freluchon--formerly my intimate friend, in the time of
Eléonore, my first wife.”
“I congratulate you!--Go now, messieurs, and settle upon the place and
hour of the combat.”
“I say! I hope it won’t be to-day!” cried Chamoureau; “what do you say
to a week from Sunday?”
“My dear Monsieur de Belleville, a duel is never postponed so long as
that. It is already three o’clock; it is too late for a meeting to-day.
Fix it for to-morrow morning--at eight o’clock. We can meet in the
little wood on your left as you go down toward Raincy--just behind the
old keeper’s house.”
“Very good; and what weapons do you propose to fight with? You are the
insulted party, and you have the right to choose.”
“Yes, I know that well enough! I have the choice of weapons, and that is
what embarrasses me; that is the difficulty.”
“Which are you strongest with?”
“I am strong at all; that is to say, I can defend myself. Ah! if we
could fight with the quarter-staff--that’s the thing I can handle!”
“Well, choose the quarter-staff,” said Chamoureau; “it isn’t so
dangerous.”
“It isn’t accepted in fashionable society! I am reflecting; as the
insulted party, I shall fire first.”
“I know nothing about it.”
“Yes, yes! hum! hum! you will fire first.”
“Then I choose pistols.”
“That’s right,” said Chamoureau; “then, if you miss your opponent, you
can pass at once to the sword.”
“Messieurs, will you please go to this Monsieur Edmond’s house, you know
where he lives?”
“Perfectly well.”
“Remember what we have agreed upon--eight o’clock to-morrow.”
“And if it can’t be to-morrow,” said Chamoureau, “why, so much the
better! we won’t go there again.”
XXIV
THE BOATMAN
Paul Duronceray was true to his promise and appeared at Edmond Didier’s
not long after the latter and Freluchon had left the Tower.
“No one has come yet,” said Edmond.
“Pardieu! I was certain that no one would have come,” said Freluchon;
“we have time to breakfast at our leisure.”
“And while you are breakfasting,” said Paul, after bidding his dog lie
at his feet, “I will tell you something which will be of great interest
to you; for it concerns this Thélénie, this woman who, I doubt not, is
the original instigator of your duel to-day. And what I have to tell you
also assures the happiness and the future welfare of that lovely girl,
Agathe, who is to be your wife, Monsieur Edmond.”
“What! it concerns Agathe, monsieur? Oh! speak! pray, speak!”
Paul thereupon told the two young men what he had told Honorine the
night before. The reader may imagine the surprise and joy of Edmond when
he learned that the girl whom he loved would be recognized at last by
her father’s family.
But suddenly his face clouded.
“Agathe is wealthy now,” he said, “and I am no longer a suitable match
for her!”
“Now you’re beginning to talk nonsense!” exclaimed Freluchon. “When you
determined to marry her, she had nothing, neither money nor a name; so
she will know well enough now that it isn’t her money you marry her
for.--But, look you, the story monsieur has just told us proves this:
that when women set about being wicked, they are ten times wickeder than
men, because they put a refinement in it of which we are not capable. In
my opinion, Madame Sainte-Suzanne has played her rôle very prettily in
all this business.”
“But Agathe must have learned all before this, from Madame Dalmont.”
“I think so,” said Paul, “but I have not yet dared to face her.--You
must go with me, Monsieur Edmond; your presence will dispose her to
indulgence, to forgiveness.”
“Oh! don’t be afraid, monsieur; there cannot be any resentment in her
heart. Besides, you have told us that she saw you weep over her father’s
grave, and it must be that she still remembers that.”
Twelve o’clock had struck, and no one had appeared on behalf of Monsieur
Luminot. One hour, two hours more passed. Edmond was beside himself with
impatience, for that business kept him from going to Agathe. Paul
Duronceray was no less impatient than he.
At last, Messieurs Chamoureau and Remplumé appeared and announced
themselves as Monsieur Luminot’s seconds.