brother, who played the rôle here of a German baron, and who met death
on the river bank, thanks to my good dog who was determined that the
robber, the assassin, should not escape him again. He put us upon the
track of the persons whom you meant to destroy, and whom we saved! Ah!
that is what must distress you above all else--that your scheme did not
succeed, despite the gold lavished on your brother--See, here it is,
madame--the gold of which you make such a diabolical use!”
And Paul threw at Thélénie’s feet the roll of a thousand francs which he
had found upon Croque.
The accusation he had made and the tone of conviction in which he spoke
made a profound impression upon all the people assembled there. They
looked at one another in terror, they turned their eyes away from that
woman to whom they had burned incense two days before. Thélénie observed
the effect produced by Duronceray’s speech; she reflected that, her
accomplice being dead, she could safely deny everything, and, collecting
all her resources, she exclaimed:
“I have long known, monsieur, that I was the object of your hatred;
to-day you prove that I was right. You turn against me a service that I
tried to render, and you invent a series of crimes, of plots, which are
utterly ridiculous.--Yes, I did write that letter--why should I deny it,
when it proves simply that I wished to prevent a duel which might have
deplorable results? I had been told, I had heard--some persons about me
say on the night of the fête, after that quarrel--which I deeply
regretted--those persons assured me that a meeting had been arranged to
take place on the island I described. I believed it, and I conveyed that
information to those ladies. As for your fable of the boatman who jumped
into the water purposely, and who proves to be my brother--oh! that is
too much! I never read anything more improbable in a novel! I never had
a brother.”
“But you had a son, madame!” said a voice at the door of the salon,
where Beauregard suddenly appeared, leading little Emile by the hand and
followed by Jacqueline, his nurse.
Thélénie was terror-stricken by that apparition; all her audacity
deserted her. She fell back in her chair, while Beauregard, motioning to
the peasant woman to go before him, pointed to the mistress of the
house, saying:
“Look, my good woman; you will find the Baronne de Mortagne not at
Dieppe, but here!”
“Eh! bless my soul, yes! that’s her for sure; that’s madame; I know her
all right! she ain’t changed; she’s still got those big eyes of hers!”
At these words of Jacqueline directed at Thélénie, everybody looked at
that mother who had abandoned her child, and whose story Chamoureau had
told them two days before.
Overwhelmed, crushed by these successive revelations, which made her
known at last for what she was, she could find no word to say; she hid
her face in her hands.
“You see, my good woman,” Beauregard continued, “that I was quite right
to prevent your going to Dieppe; for she hoped to ship you off with the
child to some distant country from which you would never have returned.
Oh! madame had laid her plan shrewdly; your presence here embarrassed
her! But unluckily for her, her brother--for it was her brother again
whom she employed to get rid of you--her brother was very fond of
drinking and he was rather loquacious in his cups; so that it was not
hard for me to learn from him all that it was important for me to know.”
“For all that,” said the peasant, “madame is little Emile’s mother;
there’s your mamma, my boy!”
“Her!” cried the child, gazing at Thélénie in dismay. “I don’t want her
for my mother; she’d beat me!”
“Still, I suppose madame will take back her son.”
“No, she will not take him back,” said Beauregard, “for, as you see, she
never had the sentiments of a mother. But I will keep him, as I have the
right to do, for I am his father!”
“His father!” was heard on all sides.
“What’s that! his father?” cried Chamoureau. “I say! what does all this
mean? my wife has children, monsieur is their father, and----”
“Shut up, Chamoureau!” said Freluchon. “Don’t you see that all this
doesn’t concern you? I advise you to pretend to be dead!”
“Now,” continued Beauregard, “I have nothing more to say to madame, whom
I have been asking for a long time what she had done with this
child.--Come, nurse, I will settle your account.--Monsieur Duronceray,
chance brings me into your presence to-day. I no longer deserve to take
your hand, I know, since I betrayed long ago the friendship that united
us. But perhaps you will forgive me to-day, when you reflect that at all
events I served to enlighten you concerning madame’s sentiments.”
As he concluded, Beauregard bowed low to Paul, who coldly returned his
bow, but was obliged to hold Ami, who growled savagely and seemed
determined to attack that gentleman.
Beauregard departed, with his son and Jacqueline. Paul then said to the
people of Chelles who were present:
“I think that no one now among you ladies and gentlemen retains any
doubt concerning the honor of Madame Dalmont and Mademoiselle Agathe de
Hautmont?”
“No one! no one!” they hastened to reply on all sides.
“As for myself,” said Doctor Antoine, going up to Paul, “I may say that
I never doubted it, and that I have always defended those ladies when
anyone presumed to speak ill of them.”
“Very good, doctor; give me your hand then, and come to see us at the
Tower; I trust that your welcome will make you forget your first
visit.”
The doctor shook the hand that Paul offered him, and the three friends
took their leave.
Ere long, the rest of the company followed their example, and Chamoureau
was left alone with his wife, to whom he proposed to address a severe
lecture. But before he had determined what to say, Thélénie abruptly
left the room.
“Ah! she suspects that I have some unpleasant things to say to her,”
said Chamoureau to himself; “she fled from my wrath; I will say it all
to her at dinner.”
But Chamoureau dined alone; his wife did not come down; and in the
evening, when he tried to find her, he learned that she had sent her
trunks to the railway station, and had left the house long before.
Thereupon he wondered whether he should go after her; but upon mature
reflection, he concluded that he would do better to wait until it should
please her to return to him.
A month after these occurrences, a double marriage united Paul
Duronceray to Honorine, and Edmond Didier to Agathe, to whom her aged
uncle bequeathed his whole fortune.
Freluchon, witnessing the happiness of his friends, declares that he
shall end by following their example, but he is in no hurry. Père Ledrux
is still employed as gardener by the two new households, although he
still carries on a somewhat dangerous traffic, by slandering their hens;
but they forgive him in consideration of his tutu--turlututu.
Chamoureau, having abandoned the name of Belleville, continued to expect
his wife, who did not return to him.
After six months he learned that she had been killed at London, riding
in a steeple chase. Thereupon he put on mourning and went to see
Freluchon, to whom he imparted the news, with tears in his eyes.
“What! you idiot! you weep for that woman!” said Freluchon.
“Ah! my friend, I assure you that she had some good qualities.”
“Hold your tongue, for heaven’s sake! don’t imitate the idiocy or
dishonesty of those people, who, as soon as a person is dead, give her
credit for virtues that she never had in her lifetime! For my part, when
a villain leaves this world, I content myself with saying: ‘There are
enough left behind!’”
“And Monsieur Duronceray and Edmond Didier--are they still happy?”
“How can they help it? they both have sweet, pretty, loving wives! Ah!
if I could find one like them!”
“And the famous Ami, their big dog?”
“He is growing old peacefully among them; when _he_ dies, I give you
leave to weep for him; for he is a pattern of loyalty, devotion and
attachment!--Find all those qualities in your friends!”