Antoine de Chaulieu was the son of a poor gentleman of Normandy,
with a long genealogy, a short rent-roll, and a large family. Jacques
Rollet was the son of a brewer, who did not know who his grandfather
was; but he had a long purse and only two children. As these youths
flourished in the early days of liberty, equality, and fraternity,
and were near neighbors, they naturally hated each other. Their enmity
commenced at school, where the delicate and refined De Chaulieu being
the only gentilhomme amongst the scholars, was the favorite of the
master (who was a bit of an aristocrat in his heart), although he was
about the worst dressed boy in the establishment, and never had a sou
to spend; whilst Jacques Rollet, sturdy and rough, with smart clothes
and plenty of money, got flogged six days in the week, ostensibly
for being stupid and not learning his lessons--which, indeed, he did
not, but, in reality, for constantly quarreling with and insulting De
Chaulieu, who had not strength to cope with him. When they left the
academy, the feud continued in all its vigor, and was fostered by a
thousand little circumstances arising out of the state of the times,
till a separation ensued in consequence of an aunt of Antoine de
Chaulieu's undertaking the expense of sending him to Paris to study
the law, and of maintaining him there during the necessary period.
With the progress of events came some degree of reaction in favor
of birth and nobility, and then Antoine, who had passed for the bar,
began to hold up his head and endeavored to push his fortunes; but
fate seemed against him. He felt certain that if he possessed any gift
in the world it was that of eloquence, but he could get no cause to
plead; and his aunt dying inopportunely, first his resources failed,
and then his health. He had no sooner returned to his home, than,
to complicate his difficulties completely, he fell in love with
Mademoiselle Natalie de Bellefonds, who had just returned from Paris,
where she had been completing her education. To expatiate on the
perfections of Mademoiselle Natalie, would be a waste of ink and
paper: it is sufficient to say that she really was a very charming
girl, with a fortune which, though not large, would have been a most
desirable acquisition to de Chaulieu, who had nothing. Neither was
the fair Natalie indisposed to listen to his addresses, but her father
could not be expected to countenance the suit of a gentleman, however
well-born, who had not a ten-sous piece in the world, and whose
prospects were a blank.
Whilst the ambitious and love-sick young barrister was thus pining in
unwelcome obscurity, his old acquaintance, Jacques Rollet, had been
acquiring an undesirable notoriety. There was nothing really bad
in Jacques' disposition, but having been bred up a democrat, with
a hatred of the nobility, he could not easily accommodate his rough
humor to treat them with civility when it was no longer safe to insult
them. The liberties he allowed himself whenever circumstances brought
him into contact with the higher classes of society, had led him into
many scrapes, out of which his father's money had one way or another
released him; but that source of safety had now failed. Old Rollet
having been too busy with the affairs of the nation to attend to his
business, had died insolvent, leaving his son with nothing but his
own wits to help him out of future difficulties, and it was not long
before their exercise was called for. Claudine Rollet, his sister, who
was a very pretty girl, had attracted the attention of Mademoiselle de
Bellefonds' brother, Alphonso; and as he paid her more attention than
from such a quarter was agreeable to Jacques, the young men had had
more than one quarrel on the subject, on which occasions they had
each, characteristically, given vent to their enmity, the one in
contemptuous monosyllables, and the other in a volley of insulting
words. But Claudine had another lover more nearly of her own condition
of life; this was Claperon, the deputy governor of Rouen jail, with
whom she had made acquaintance during one or two compulsory visits
paid by her brother to that functionary; but Claudine, who was a bit
of a coquette, though she did not altogether reject his suit, gave him
little encouragement, so that betwixt hopes, and fears, and doubts,
and jealousies, pour Claperon led a very uneasy kind of life.
Affairs had been for some time in this position, when, one fine
morning, Alphonse de Bellefonds was not to be found in his chamber
when his servant went to call him; neither had his bed been slept in.
He had been observed to go out rather late on the preceding evening,
but whether or not he had returned, nobody could tell. He had not
appeared at supper, but that was too ordinary an event to awaken
suspicion; and little alarm was excited till several hours had
elapsed, when inquiries were instituted and a search commenced, which
terminated in the discovery of his body, a good deal mangled, lying
at the bottom of a pond which had belonged to the old brewery. Before
any investigations had been made, every person had jumped to the
conclusion that the young man had been murdered, and that Jacques
Rollet was the assassin. There was a strong presumption in favor of
that opinion, which further perquisitions tended to confirm. Only the
day before, Jacques had been heard to threaten Mons. de Bellefonds
with speedy vengeance. On the fatal evening, Alphonse and Claudine had
been seen together in the neighborhood of the now dismantled brewery;
and as Jacques, betwixt poverty and democracy, was in bad odor with
the prudent and respectable part of society, it was not easy for him
to bring witnesses to character, or prove an unexceptionable alibi. As
for the Bellefonds and De Chaulieus, and the aristocracy in general,
they entertained no doubt of his guilt; and finally, the magistrates
coming to the same opinion, Jacques Rollet was committed for trial,
and as a testimony of good will, Antoine de Chaulieu was selected by
the injured family to conduct the prosecution.
Here, at last, was the opportunity he had sighed for! So interesting
a case, too, furnishing such ample occasion for passion, pathos,
indignation! And how eminently fortunate that the speech which he set
himself with ardor to prepare, would be delivered in the presence
of the father and brother of his mistress, and perhaps of the lady
herself! The evidence against Jacques, it is true, was altogether
presumptive; there was no proof whatever that he had committed the
crime; and for his own part he stoutly denied it. But Antoine de
Chaulieu entertained no doubt of his guilt, and his speech was
certainly well calculated to carry that conviction into the bosom of
others. It was of the highest importance to his own reputation that he
should procure a verdict, and he confidently assured the afflicted and
enraged family of the victim that their vengeance should be satisfied.
Under these circumstances could anything be more unwelcome than a
piece of intelligence that was privately conveyed to him late on the
evening before the trial was to come on, which tended strongly to
exculpate the prisoner, without indicating any other person as the
criminal. Here was an opportunity lost. The first step of the ladder
on which he was to rise to fame, fortune, and a wife, was slipping
from under his feet!
Of course, so interesting a trial was anticipated with great eagerness
by the public, and the court was crowded with all the beauty and
fashion of Rouen. Though Jacques Rollet persisted in asserting his
innocence, founding his defense chiefly on circumstances which were
strongly corroborated by the information that had reached De Chaulieu
the preceding evening,--he was convicted.
In spite of the very strong doubts he privately entertained respecting
the justice of the verdict, even De Chaulieu himself, in the first
flush of success, amidst a crowd of congratulating friends, and the
approving smiles of his mistress, felt gratified and happy; his speech
had, for the time being, not only convinced others, but himself;
warmed with his own eloquence, he believed what he said. But when
the glow was over, and he found himself alone, he did not feel so
comfortable. A latent doubt of Rollet's guilt now burnt strongly in
his mind, and he felt that the blood of the innocent would be on his
head. It is true there was yet time to save the life of the prisoner,
but to admit Jacques innocent, was to take the glory out of his own
speech, and turn the sting of his argument against himself. Besides,
if he produced the witness who had secretly given him the information,
he should be self-condemned, for he could not conceal that he had been
aware of the circumstance before the trial.
Matters having gone so far, therefore, it was necessary that Jacques
Rollet should die; so the affair took its course; and early one
morning the guillotine was erected in the court-yard of the jail,
three criminals ascended the scaffold, and three heads fell into the
basket, which were presently afterward, with the trunks that had been
attached to them, buried in a corner of the cemetery.
Antoine de Chaulieu was now fairly started in his career, and his
success was as rapid as the first step toward it had been tardy. He
took a pretty apartment in the Hôtel Marboeuf, Rue Grange-Batelière,
and in a short time was looked upon as one of the most rising young
advocates in Paris. His success in one line brought him success in
another; he was soon a favorite in society, and an object of interest
to speculating mothers; but his affections still adhered to his old
love Natalie de Bellefonds, whose family now gave their assent to the
match--at least, prospectively--a circumstance which furnished such
an additional incentive to his exertions, that in about two years
from the date of his first brilliant speech, he was in a sufficiently
flourishing condition to offer the young lady a suitable home. In
anticipation of the happy event, he engaged and furnished a suite
of apartments in the Rue du Helder; and as it was necessary that the
bride should come to Paris to provide her trousseau, it was agreed
that the wedding should take place there, instead of at Bellefonds,
as had been first projected; an arrangement the more desirable, that
a press of business rendered Mons. de Chaulieu's absence from Paris
inconvenient.
Brides and bridegrooms in France, except of the very high classes,
are not much in the habit of making those honeymoon excursions so
universal in this country. A day spent in visiting Versailles or St.
Cloud, or even the public places of the city, is generally all that
precedes the settling down into the habits of daily life. In the
present instance St. Denis was selected, from the circumstance of
Natalie's having a younger sister at school there; and also because
she had a particular desire to see the Abbey.
The wedding was to take place on a Thursday; and on the Wednesday
evening, having spent some hours most agreeably with Natalie,
Antoine de Chaulieu returned to spend his last night in his bachelor
apartments. His wardrobe and other small possessions, had already been
packed up and sent to his future home; and there was nothing left
in his room now, but his new wedding suit, which he inspected with
considerable satisfaction before he undressed and lay down to sleep.
Sleep, however, was somewhat slow to visit him; and the clock had
struck one, before he closed his eyes. When he opened them again,
it was broad daylight; and his first thought was, had he overslept
himself! He sat up in bed to look at the clock which was exactly
opposite, and as he did so, in the large mirror over the fireplace,
he perceived a figure standing behind him. As the dilated eyes met his
own, he saw it was the face of Jacques Rollet. Overcome with horror he
sunk back on his pillow, and it was some minutes before he ventured
to look again in that direction; when he did so, the figure had
disappeared.
The sudden revulsion of feeling such a vision was calculated to
occasion in a man elate with joy, may be conceived! For some time
after the death of his former foe, he had been visited by not
unfrequent twinges of conscience; but of late, borne along by success,
and the hurry of Parisian life, these unpleasant remembrances had
grown rarer, till at length they had faded away altogether. Nothing
had been further from his thoughts than Jacques Rollet, when he closed
his eyes on the preceding night, nor when he opened them to that sun
which was to shine on what he expected to be the happiest day of his
life! Where were the high-strung nerves now! The elastic frame! The
bounding heart!
Heavily and slowly he arose from his bed, for it was time to do so;
and with a trembling hand and quivering knees, he went through
the processes of the toilet, gashing his cheek with the razor, and
spilling the water over his well polished boots. When he was dressed,
scarcely venturing to cast a glance in the mirror as he passed it,
he quitted the room and descended the stairs, taking the key of the
door with him for the purpose of leaving it with the porter; the man,
however, being absent, he laid it on the table in his lodge, and with
a relaxed and languid step proceeded on his way to the church, where
presently arrived the fair Natalie and her friends. How difficult it
was now to look happy, with that pallid face and extinguished eye!
"How pale you are! Has anything happened? You are surely ill?" were
the exclamations that met him on all sides. He tried to carry it off
as well as he could, but felt that the movements he would have wished
to appear alert were only convulsive; and that the smiles with which
he attempted to relax his features, were but distorted grimaces.
However, the church was not the place for further inquiries; and while
Natalie gently pressed his hand in token of sympathy, they advanced
to the altar, and the ceremony was performed; after which they stepped
into the carriages waiting at the door, and drove to the apartments of
Madme. de Bellefonds, where an elegant _déjeuner_ was prepared.
"What ails you, my dear husband?" inquired Natalie, as soon as they
were alone.
"Nothing, love," he replied; "nothing. I assure you, but a restless
night and a little overwork, in order that I might have to-day free to
enjoy my happiness!"
"Are you quite sure? Is there nothing else?"
"Nothing, indeed; and pray don't take notice of it, it only makes me
worse!"
Natalie was not deceived, but she saw that what he said was true;
notice made him worse; so she contented herself with observing him
quietly, and saying nothing; but, as he _felt_ she was observing him,
she might almost better have spoken; words are often less embarrassing
things than too curious eyes.
When they reached Madame de Bellefonds' he had the same sort of
questioning and scrutiny to undergo, till he grew quite impatient
under it, and betrayed a degree of temper altogether unusual to him.
Then everybody looked astonished; some whispered their remarks, and
others expressed them by their wondering eyes, till his brow knit, and
his pallid cheeks became flushed with anger. Neither could he divert
attention by eating; his parched mouth would not allow him to swallow
anything but liquids, of which, however, he indulged in copious
libations; and it was an exceeding relief to him when the carriage,
which was to convey them to St. Denis, being announced, furnished
an excuse for hastily leaving the table. Looking at his watch, he
declared it was late; and Natalie, who saw how eager he was to be
gone, threw her shawl over her shoulders, and bidding her friends
_good morning_, they hurried away.
It was a fine sunny day in June; and, as they drove along the crowded
boulevards, and through the Porte St. Denis, the young bride and
bridegroom, to avoid each other's eyes, affected to be gazing out of
the windows; but when they reached that part of the road where there
was nothing but trees on each side, they felt it necessary to draw
in their heads, and make an attempt at conversation. De Chaulieu
put his arm round his wife's waist, and tried to rouse himself from
his depression; but it had by this time so reacted upon her, that
she could not respond to his efforts, and thus the conversation
languished, till both felt glad when they reached their destination,
which would, at all events, furnish them something to talk about.
Having quitted the carriage, and ordered a dinner at the Hôtel
de l'Abbaye, the young couple proceeded to visit Mademoiselle
Hortense de Bellefonds, who was overjoyed to see her sister and new
brother-in-law, and doubly so when she found that they had obtained
permission to take her out to spend the afternoon with them. As there
is little to be seen at St. Denis but the Abbey, on quitting that part
of it devoted to education, they proceeded to visit the church, with
its various objects of interest; and as De Chaulieu's thoughts were
now forced into another direction, his cheerfulness began insensibly
to return. Natalie looked so beautiful, too, and the affection betwixt
the two young sisters was so pleasant to behold! And they spent a
couple of hours wandering about with Hortense, who was almost as well
informed as the Suisse, till the brazen doors were open which admitted
them to the royal vault. Satisfied, at length, with what they had
seen, they began to think of returning to the inn, the more especially
as De Chaulieu, who had not eaten a morsel of food since the previous
evening, owned to being hungry; so they directed their steps to the
door, lingering here and there as they went, to inspect a monument or
a painting, when, happening to turn his head aside to see if his wife,
who had stopt to take a last look at the tomb of King Dagobert, was
following, he beheld with horror the face of Jacques Rollet appearing
from behind a column! At the same instant, his wife joined him, and
took his arm, inquiring if he was not very much delighted with what
he had seen. He attempted to say yes, but the word would not be
forced out; and staggering out of the door, he alleged that a sudden
faintness had overcome him.
They conducted him to the Hôtel, but Natalie now became seriously
alarmed; and well she might. His complexion looked ghastly, his limbs
shook, and his features bore an expression of indescribable horror and
anguish. What could be the meaning of so extraordinary a change in the
gay, witty, prosperous De Chaulieu, who, till that morning, seemed not
to have a care in the world? For, plead illness as he might, she felt
certain, from the expression of his features, that his sufferings were
not of the body but of the mind; and, unable to imagine any reason for
such extraordinary manifestations, of which she had never before seen
a symptom, but a sudden aversion to herself, and regret for the step
he had taken, her pride took the alarm, and, concealing the distress
she really felt, she began to assume a haughty and reserved manner
toward him, which he naturally interpreted into an evidence of anger
and contempt. The dinner was placed upon the table, but Du Chaulieu's
appetite of which he had lately boasted, was quite gone, nor was his
wife better able to eat. The young sister alone did justice to the
repast; but although the bridegroom could not eat, he could swallow
champagne in such copious draughts, that ere long the terror and
remorse that the apparition of Jacques Rollet had awakened in his
breast were drowned in intoxication. Amazed and indignant, poor
Natalie sat silently observing this elect of her heart, till overcome
with disappointment and grief, she quitted the room with her sister,
and retired to another apartment, where she gave free vent to her
feelings in tears.
After passing a couple of hours in confidences and lamentations, they
recollected that the hours of liberty granted, as an especial favor,
to Mademoiselle Hortense, had expired; but ashamed to exhibit her
husband in his present condition to the eyes of strangers, Natalie
prepared to re-conduct her to the _Maison Royale_ herself. Looking
into the dining-room as they passed, they saw De Chaulieu lying on a
sofa fast asleep, in which state he continued when his wife returned.
At length, however, the driver of their carriage begged to know if
Monsieur and Madame were ready to return to Paris, and it became
necessary to arouse him. The transitory effects of the champagne had
now sub sided; but when De Chaulieu recollected what had happened,
nothing could exceed his shame and mortification. So engrossing indeed
were these sensations that they quite overpowered his previous ones,
and, in his present vexation, he, for the moment, forgot his fears.
He knelt at his wife's feet, begged her pardon a thousand times, swore
that he adored her, and declared that the illness and the effect of
the wine had been purely the consequences of fasting and over-work.
It was not the easiest thing in the world to reassure a woman whose
pride, affection, and taste, had been so severely wounded; but Natalie
tried to believe, or to appear to do so, and a sort of reconciliation
ensued, not quite sincere on the part of the wife, and very humbling
on the part of the husband. Under these circumstances it was
impossible that he should recover his spirits or facility of manner;
his gayety was forced, his tenderness constrained; his heart was
heavy within him; and ever and anon the source whence all this
disappointment and woe had sprung would recur to his perplexed,
tortured mind.
Thus mutually pained and distrustful, they returned to Paris, which
they reached about nine o'clock. In spite of her depression, Natalie,
who had not seen her new apartments, felt some curiosity about them,
whilst De Chaulieu anticipated a triumph in exhibiting the elegant
home he had prepared for her. With some alacrity, therefore, they
stepped out of the carriage, the gates of the Hôtel were thrown open,
the concierge rang the bell which announced to the servants that their
master and mistress had arrived, and whilst these domestics appeared
above, holding lights over the balusters, Natalie, followed by her
husband, ascended the stairs. But when they reached the landing-place
of the first flight, they saw the figure of a man standing in a corner
as if to make way for them; the flash from above fell upon his face,
and again Antoine de Chaulieu recognized the features of Jacques
Rollet!
From the circumstance of his wife's preceding him, the figure was
not observed by De Chaulieu till he was lifting his foot to place it
on the top stair; the sudden shock caused him to miss the step, and,
without uttering a sound, he fell back, and never stopped till he
reached the stories at the bottom. The screams of Natalie brought the
concierge from below and the maids from above, and an attempt was
made to raise the unfortunate man from the ground; but with cries of
anguish he besought them to desist.
"Let me," he said, "die here! What a fearful vengeance is thine! Oh,
Natalie, Natalie!" he exclaimed to his wife, who was kneeling beside
him, "to win fame, and fortune, and yourself, I committed a dreadful
crime! With lying words I argued away the life of a fellow-creature,
whom, whilst I uttered them, I half believed to be innocent: and
now, when I have attained all I desired, and reached the summit of
my hopes, the Almighty has sent him back upon the earth to blast me
with the sight. Three times this day--three times this day! Again!
again!"--and as he spoke, his wild and dilated eyes fixed themselves
on one of the individuals that surrounded him.
"He is delirious," said they.
"No," said the stranger! "What he says is true enough,--at least
in part;" and bending over the expiring man, he added, "May Heaven
forgive you, Antoine de Chaulieu! I was not executed; one who well
knew my innocence saved my life. I may name him, for he is beyond
the reach of the law now,--it was Claperon, the jailer, who loved
Claudine, and had himself killed Alphonse de Bellefonds from jealousy.
An unfortunate wretch had been several years in the jail for a murder
committed during the frenzy of a fit of insanity. Long confinement
had reduced him to idiocy. To save my life Claperon substituted the
senseless being for me, on the scaffold, and he was executed in my
stead. He has quitted the country, and I have been a vagabond on the
face of the earth ever since that time. At length I obtained, through
the assistance of my sister, the situation of concierge in the Hôtel
Marboeuf, in the Rue Grange Batelière. I entered on my new place
yesterday evening, and was desired to awaken the gentleman on the
third floor at seven o'clock. When I entered the room to do so,
you were asleep, but before I had time to speak you awoke, and I
recognized your features in the glass. Knowing that I could not
vindicate my innocence if you chose to seize me, I fled, and seeing
an omnibus starting for St. Denis, I got on it with a vague idea of
getting on to Calais, and crossing the Channel to England. But having
only a franc or two in my pocket, or indeed in the world, I did not
know how to procure the means of going forward; and whilst I was
lounging about the place, forming first one plan and then another,
I saw you in the church, and concluding you wore in pursuit of me, I
thought the best way of eluding your vigilance was to make my way back
to Paris as fast as I could; so I set off instantly, and walked all
the way; but having no money to pay my night's lodging, I came here
to borrow a couple of livres of my sister Claudine, who lives in the
fifth story."
"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed the dying man; "that sin is off my soul!
Natalie, dear wife, farewell! Forgive! forgive all!"
These were the last words he uttered; the priest, who had been
summoned in haste, held up the cross before his failing sight; a few
strong convulsions shook the poor bruised and mangled frame; and then
all was still.
And thus ended the Young Advocate's Wedding Day.
* * * * *
[FROM DICKENS'S HOUSEHOLD WORDS FOR JUNE 29.]