When Doctor Dufour entered Madame Bastien's room, he found her in bed,
and Marguerite seated by her pillow.
Marie, whose beauty was so radiant the evening before, was pale and
exhausted; a burning fever coloured her cheeks and made her large blue
eyes glitter under her heavy, half-closed eyelids; from time to time, a
sharp, dry cough racked her bosom, upon which the sick woman frequently
pressed her hand, as if to suppress a keen, agonising pain.
At the sight of the doctor, Madame Bastien said to her servant:
"Leave us, Marguerite."
"Well, how are you?" said the doctor, when they were left alone.
"This cough pains me and tears my chest, my good doctor; my sleep has
been disturbed by dreadful dreams, the effect of the fever, no doubt,
but, we will not speak of that," added Marie with an accent of angelic
resignation. "I wish to consult you upon important matters, good doctor,
and I must hurry, for, two or three times since I awoke, I have felt my
thoughts slipping away from me."
"Do not distress yourself about that, for it belongs to the weak state
which almost always follows the excitement of fever."
"I wished to speak to you first, to you alone, before asking M. David
and my son to come in, as we will have all three to confer together
afterward."
"I am listening to you, madame."
"You know my husband came home yesterday evening."
"I know it," said the doctor, unable to restrain a shudder of
indignation.
"I had a long and painful discussion with him on the subject of my son.
In spite of my claims and my prayer, M. Bastien is resolved to enter
Frederick with M. Bridou as a bailiff's clerk. That would make it
necessary for me to thank M. David for his care, and separate myself
from my son."
"And you cannot consent to that?"
"So long as there is a spark of life left in me, I will defend my right
to my child. As to him, you know the firmness of his character. Never
will he be willing to leave me or forsake M. David and enter the house
of M. Bridou. M. Bastien will soon return, and he is going to claim the
right to take away my son."
Marie, overcome by the emotion she was trying to combat, was obliged to
pause a moment, and was attacked by such a dangerous fit of coughing,
united to such a painful oppression in the chest, that the doctor
involuntarily raised his eyes to Heaven with grief. After taking a drink
prepared by the doctor, Marie continued:
"Such is our position, my dear doctor, and before the return of M.
Bastien, we must resolve upon something decisive, or--" and Marie became
deathly pale--"or something terrible will happen here, for you know how
violent M. Bastien is, and how resolute Frederick is; and as to me, I
feel that, sick as I am, to take away my son is to strike me with
death."
"Madame, the moments are precious; permit me first to appeal to your
sincerity and frankness."
"Speak."
"Yesterday evening, at the conclusion of the discussion which you had
with your husband, a most atrocious thing occurred, and that night--"
"Monsieur."
"I know all, madame."
"Once more, doctor--"
"I know all, I tell you, and, with your habitual courage, you did, I am
certain of it, submit to this abominable treatment, in order not to make
public this outrageous deed, and to avoid a collision between your son
and your husband. Oh, do not try to deny it; your safety and the safety
of your son depend upon the sincerity of your confession."
"My safety! my son's safety!"
"Come, madame, do you think the law has no redress for such atrocities
as those your husband has been guilty of toward you? No, no! and there
are witnesses of his unreasonable brutality. And these witnesses,
Marguerite and myself, to whom you have applied for medical attention,
as a consequence of the injuries you have sustained, we, I say, will
authorise and justify your demand for separation. This demand must be
formulated to-day."
"A separation!" cried Marie, clasping her hands in a transport of joy,
"will it be possible?"
"Yes, and you will obtain it; trust yourself to me, madame. I will see
your judges, I will establish your rights, your illness, your
grievances; but before formulating this demand," added the doctor, with
hesitation, for he appreciated the delicacy of the question raised, "it
is essential for David to go away."
At these words, Marie trembled with surprise and distress; with her eyes
fixed on those of Doctor Dufour, she tried to divine his thought, unable
to comprehend why he, David's best friend, should insist upon his going
away.
"Separate us from M. David," said she finally, "at the time my son has
so much need of his care?"
"Madame, believe me, the departure of David is essential. David himself
realises it, because he has resolved to go."
"M. David!"
"I have his word."
"It is impossible!"
"I have his word, madame."
"He! he! abandon us at such a time!"
"In order to save you and your son."
"In order to save us?"
"His presence near you, madame, would compromise the success of your
demand for a separation."
"Why is that?"
There was so much candour and sincerity in Marie's question, she
revealed so thoroughly the innocence of her heart, that the doctor had
not the heart to give a new pain to this angelic creature by telling her
of the odious reports being circulated about herself and David, so he
replied:
"You cannot doubt, madame, the devotion and affection of David. He knows
all that is to be regretted in his departure, all that is most painful
to Frederick, but he knows also that his departure is absolutely
necessary."
"He, depart!"
At the heartrending tone with which Marie uttered the two words, "He,
depart," the doctor realised the depth of Marie's love for David for the
first time, and as he thought of this deep and pure affection, the
outcome of the noblest sentiments and the holiest feelings, his heart
sank. He knew well Marie's virtue and David's delicacy, and hence he saw
no end to this fatal passion.
Marie, after weeping silently turned her pale, sad, and tear-stained
face to the doctor, and said to him, sorrowfully:
"M. David thinks it is best to go away, and my son and I will resign
ourselves to it. Your friend has given too many proofs of his devotion
to permit us to question his heart for a moment, but I must tell you his
departure will be a terrible blow to my son."
"But you will remain with him, madame, for I do not doubt that once your
separation is obtained, you will be allowed to keep your son."
"You hope then they will leave me my son?"
"Without doubt."
"How," replied Marie, clasping her hands and looking at the doctor with
inexpressible anguish, "could there be a doubt that they will leave me
my son?"
"He is more than sixteen years old, and in a case of separation, the son
follows the father; a daughter would be given to you."
"But, then," replied Marie, all excited with fear, "what good is this
separation, if I am not sure of keeping my son?"
"First, to assure your peace, your life perhaps, because your husband--"
"But my son, my son?"
"We will do everything in the world to have him given to you."
"And if they do not give him to me?"
"Alas! madame."
"Let us think no more of this separation, Doctor Dufour."
"Think, then, madame, what it is to remain at the mercy of a wretch who
will kill you some day."
"But at least, before that happens, he will not have taken my son away
from me."
"He will take him away from you, madame. Did he not wish to do so
yesterday?"
"Oh, my God!" cried Marie, falling back on her pillow with such an
expression of grief and despair that the doctor ran to her, exclaiming:
"In the name of Heaven, what is the matter with you?"
"Doctor Dufour," said Marie, in a feeble voice, closing her eyes and
overcome by grief, "I am utterly exhausted. No matter which way I look
at the future, it is horrible; what shall I do, my God! what shall I do?
The hour approaches when my husband will return and take away my son
with him. Oh, for my sake, put yourself between Frederick and his
father! Oh, if you only knew what I dread, I--"
And the words expired on her lips, for the unhappy woman again sank into
unconsciousness.
The doctor hastened to ring the bell violently, then he returned to the
help of Madame Bastien.
The servant not replying to the bell, the doctor opened the door and
called:
"Marguerite! Marguerite!"
At the alarmed voice of the doctor, Frederick, who had remained in the
library, rushed to his mother's chamber, followed by David, who,
forgetting all propriety, and yielding to an irresistible impulse,
wished to see the woman he was about to leave, for the last time.
"Frederick, support your mother," cried Doctor Dufour, "and you, Henri,
go quick for some cold water in the dining-room--somewhere. I do not
know where Marguerite is."
David ran to execute the doctor's orders, while Frederick, supporting
his mother in his arms, for she was almost without consciousness, said
to the doctor, in a broken voice:
"Oh, my God! this fainting fit, how long it lasts! how pale she is!
Help, help!"
Marguerite suddenly appeared; her distorted features presented a
singular expression of astonishment, terror, and satisfaction.
"Doctor," cried she, almost breathless, "if you only knew!"
"Pierre, here is what you asked me for," said David, running and giving
him a bottle filled with fresh water, of which the doctor poured out
several spoonfuls in a cup.
Then addressing the servant in a low voice, he said:
"Marguerite, give me that vial, there on the chimneypiece. But what is
the matter with you?" added Doctor Dufour, as he saw the old servant
standing still and trembling in every limb. "Speak, do speak!"
"Ah! monsieur," replied the servant, in a whisper, "it is what takes my
breath away. If you only knew!"
"Well, finish, what is it?"
"Master is dead!"
At these words the doctor stepped back, forgot Marie, stood petrified,
and looked at the servant, unable to utter a word.
David experienced such a violent commotion of feeling that he was
obliged to lean against the wainscoting.
Frederick, holding his mother in his arms, turned abruptly toward
Marguerite, murmuring:
"Oh, my God! Dead--dead--my father!"
And he hid his face in his mother's bosom.
Marie, although in a swoon, caused by complete prostration of her
strength, was sufficiently conscious to hear.
Marguerite's words, "Master is dead," reached her ears, but dimly and
vague as the thought of a dream.
The doctor broke the solemn silence which had greeted the servant's
words and said to her:
"How do you know? Explain yourself."
"This night," replied the servant, "master, about six miles from here,
wanted to cross a ford on a route covered by the overflow. The horse and
carriage were dragged into the water. They have not found the body of M.
Bridou, but they recognised master's body by his goatskin cloak; it was
ground under the wheels of the mill at the pond; they found half his
coat in one of the wheels; one of the pockets contained several letters
addressed to master. It is by that the mayor of Blemur, who is there
with a gendarme, knew that it was master who was drowned, and he has
drawn up the act of death."
When the servant had finished her recital in the midst of a religious
silence, Madame Bastien recalled to herself entirely by the profound and
violent reaction produced by this unexpected news, clasped her son to
her bosom passionately, and said:
"We will never leave each other, never!"
Marie was about to seek David's eyes, instinctively, but an exquisite
delicacy forbade it; she turned her eyes away, her pallor was replaced
by a faint colour, and she pressed her son in a new embrace.