An Unparalleled Insult.
I was thoughtful as I walked across the _place_ in front of the church in
the full glare of the afternoon sun. It was past four o'clock; the town
was more lively, as folk, their day's work finished, came out to take
their ease and filled the streets and the _cafés_. I felt that I also had
done something like a day's work; but my task was not complete till I had
lodged my precious trust safely in the keeping of the duchess.
There was, however, still time to spare, and I sat down at a _café_ and
ordered some coffee. While it was being brought my thoughts played round
Marie Delhasse. I doubted whether I disliked her for being tempted, or
liked her for resisting at the last; at any rate, I was glad to have
helped her a little. If I could now persuade her to leave Avranches, I
should have done all that could reasonably be expected of me; if the duke
pursued, she must fight the battle for herself. So I mused, sipping my
coffee; and then I fell to wondering what the duchess would say on seeing
me again so soon. Would she see me? She must, whether she liked it or not;
I could not keep the diamonds all night. Perhaps she would like.
"There you are again!" I said to myself sharply, and I roused myself from
my meditations.
As I looked up, I saw the man Lafleur opposite to me. He had his back
toward me, but I knew him, and he was just walking into a shop that faced
the _café_ and displayed in its windows an assortment of offensive
weapons--guns, pistols, and various sorts of knives. Lafleur went in. I
sat sipping my coffee. He was there nearly twenty minutes; then he came
out and walked leisurely away. I paid my score and strolled over to the
shop. I wondered what he had been buying. Dueling pistols for the duke,
perhaps! I entered and asked to be shown some penknives. The shopman
served me with alacrity. I chose a cheap knife, and then I permitted my
gaze to rest on a neat little pistol that lay on the counter. My simple
_ruse_ was most effective. In a moment I was being acquainted with all the
merits of the instrument, and the eulogy was backed by the information
that a gentleman had bought two pistols of the same make not ten minutes
before I entered the shop.
"Really!" said I. "What for?"
"Oh, I don't know, sir. It is a wise thing often to carry one of these
little fellows. One never knows."
"In case of a quarrel with another gentleman?"
"Oh, they are hardly such as we sell for dueling, sir."
"Aren't they?"
"They are rather pocket pistols--to carry if you are out at night; and we
sell many to gentlemen who have occasion in the way of their business to
carry large sums of money or valuables about with them. They give a sense
of security, sir, even if no occasion arises for their use."
"And this gentleman bought two? Who was he?"
"I don't know, sir. He gave me no name."
"And you didn't know him by sight?"
"No, sir; perhaps he is a stranger. But indeed I'm almost that myself: I
have but just set up business here."
"Is it brisk?" I asked, examining the pistol.
"It is not a brisk place, sir," the man answered regretfully. "Let me sell
you one, sir!"
It happened to be, for the moment, in the way of my business to carry
valuables, but I hoped it would not be for long, so that I did not buy a
pistol; but I allowed myself to wonder what my friend Lafleur wanted with
two--and they were not dueling pistols! If I had been going to keep the
diamonds--but then I was not. And, reminded by this reflection, I set out
at once for the convent.
Now the manner in which the Duchess of Saint-Maclou saw fit to treat
me--who was desirous only of serving her--on this occasion went far to
make me disgusted with the whole affair into which I had been drawn. It
might have been supposed that she would show gratitude; I think that even
a little admiration and a little appreciation of my tact would not have
been, under the circumstances, out of place. It is not every day that a
lady has such a thing as the Cardinal's Necklace rescued from great peril
and freely restored, with no claim (beyond that for ordinary civility) on
the part of the rescuer.
And the cause did not lie in her happening to be out of temper, for she
greeted me at first with much graciousness, and sitting down on the corn
bin (she was permitted on this occasion to meet me in the stable), she
began to tell me that she had received a most polite--and indeed almost
affectionate--letter from the duke, in which he expressed deep regret for
her absence, but besought her to stay where she was as long as the health
of her soul demanded. He would do himself the honor of waiting on her and
escorting her home, when she made up her mind to return to him.
"Which means," observed the duchess, as she replaced the letter in her
pocket, "that the Delhasses are going, and that if I go (without notice
anyhow) I shall find them there."
"I read it in the same way; but I'm not so sure that the Delhasses are
going."
"You are so charitable," said she, still quite sweetly. "You can't bring
yourself to think evil of anybody."
The duchess chanced to look so remarkably calm and composed as she sat on
the corn bin that I could not deny myself the pleasure of surprising her
with the sudden apparition of the Cardinal's Necklace. Without a word, I
took the case out of my pocket, opened it, and held it out toward her. For
once the duchess sat stock-still, her eyes round and large.
"Have you been robbing and murdering my husband?" she gasped.
With a very complacent smile I began my story. Who does not know what it
is to begin a story with a triumphant confidence in its favorable
reception? Who does not know that first terrible glimmer of doubt when the
story seems not to be making the expected impression? Who has not endured
the dull dogged despair in which the story, damned by the stony faces of
the auditors, has yet to drag on a hated weary life to a dishonored grave?
These stages came and passed as I related to Mme. de Saint-Maclou how I
came to be in a position to hand back to her the Cardinal's Necklace.
Still, silent, pale, with her lips curled in a scornful smile, she sat and
listened. My tone lost its triumphant ring, and I finished in cold,
distant, embarrassed accents.
"I have only," said I, "to execute my commission and hand the box and its
contents over to you."
And, thus speaking, I laid the necklace in its case on the corn bin beside
the duchess.
The duchess said nothing at all. She looked at me once--just once; and I
wished then and there that I had listened to Gustave de Berensac's second
thoughts and left with him at ten o'clock in the morning. Then having
delivered this barbed shaft of the eyes, the duchess sat looking straight
in front of her, bereft of her quick-changing glances, robbed of her
supple grace--like frozen quicksilver. And the necklace glittered away
indifferently between us.
At last the duchess, her eyes still fixed on the whitewashed wall
opposite, said in a slow emphatic tone:
"I wouldn't touch it, if it were the crown of France!"
I plucked up my courage to answer her. For Marie Delhasse's sake I felt a
sudden anger.
"You are pharisaical," said I. "The poor girl has acted honorably. Her
touch has not defiled your necklace."
"Yes, you must defend what you persuaded," flashed out the duchess. "It's
the greatest insult I was ever subjected to in my life!"
Here was the second lady I had insulted on that summer day!
"I did but suggest it--it was her own wish."
"Your suggestion is her wish! How charming!" said the duchess.
"You are unjust to her!" I said, a little warmly.
The duchess rose from the corn bin, made the very most of her sixty-three
inches, and remarked:
"It's a new insult to mention her to me."
I passed that by; it was too absurd to answer.
"You must take it now I've brought it," I urged in angry puzzle.
The duchess put out her hand, grasped the case delicately, shut it--and
flung it to the other side of the stable, hard by where an old ass was
placidly eating a bundle of hay.
"That's the last time I shall touch it!" said she, turning and looking me
in the face.
"But what am I to do with it?" I cried.
"Whatever you please," returned Mme. de Saint-Maclou; and without another
word, without another glance, either at me or at the necklace, she walked
out of the stable, and left me alone with the necklace and the ass.
The ass had given one start as the necklace fell with a thud on the floor;
but he was old and wise, and soon fell again to his meal. I sat drumming
my heels against the corn bin. Evening was falling fast, and everything
was very still. No man ever had a more favorable hour for reflection and
introspection. I employed it to the full. Then I rose, and crossing the
stable, pulled the long ears of my friend who was eating the hay.
"I suppose you also were a young ass once," said I with a rueful smile.
Well, I couldn't leave the Cardinal's Necklace in the corner of the
convent stable. I picked up the box. Neddy thrust out his nose at it. I
opened it and let him see the contents. He snuffed scornfully and turned
back to the hay.
"He won't take it either," said I to myself, and with a muttered curse I
dropped the wretched thing back in the pocket of my coat, wishing much
evil to everyone who had any hand in bringing me into connection with it,
from his Eminence the Cardinal Armand de Saint-Maclou down to the waiter
at the hotel.
Slowly and in great gloom of mind I climbed the hill again. I supposed
that I must take the troublesome ornament back to Marie Delhasse,
confessing that my fine idea had ended in nothing save a direct and
stinging insult for her and a scathing snub for me. My pride made this
necessity hard to swallow, but I believe there was also a more worthy
feeling that caused me to shrink from it. I feared that her good
resolutions would not survive such treatment, and that the rebuff would
drive her headlong into the ruin from which I had trusted that she would
be saved. Yet there was nothing else for it. Back the necklace must go. I
could but pray--and earnestly I did pray--that my fears might not be
realized.
I found myself opposite the gun-maker's shop; and it struck me that I
might probably fail to see Marie alone that evening. I had no means of
defense--I had never thought any necessary. But now a sudden nervousness
got hold of me: it seemed to me as if my manner must betray to everyone
that I carried the necklace--as if the lump in my coat stood out
conspicuous as Mont St. Michel itself. Feeling that I was doing a
half-absurd thing, still I stepped into the shop and announced that, on
further reflection, I would buy the little pistol. The good man was
delighted to sell it to me.
"If you carry valuables, sir," he said, repeating his stock
recommendation, "it will give you a feeling of perfect safety."
"I don't carry valuables," said I abruptly, almost rudely, and with most
unnecessary emphasis.
"I did but suggest, sir," he apologized. "And at least, it may be that you
will require to do so some day."
"That," I was forced to admit, "is of course not impossible." And I slid
the pistol and a supply of cartridges into the other pocket of my coat.
"Distribute the load, sir," advised the smiling nuisance. "One side of
your coat will be weighed down. Ah, pardon! I perceive that there is
already something in the other pocket."
"A sandwich-case," said I; and he bowed with exactly the smile the waiter
had worn when I said that I came from Mont St. Michel.