A CALM BRIDE
No one among all the company in Danglars' house possessed their
self-possession so much as just the one who was the least expected to do
so.
Two days after the catastrophe, when Eugenie's most intimate friend, the
music teacher, Louise d'Armilly, came to condole with her, the proud
daughter of the banker repulsed her with a disdainful laugh.
"I am not made for marriage," she said; "at first I was engaged to
Monsieur de Morcerf, whose father shot himself a few days ago, in a fit
of remorse at having acquired his wealth by dishonorable means; then I
was to be married to Prince Cavalcanti, to add to the millions which my
father possesses, or which he perhaps does not call his own, the
imaginary wealth of a--jail-bird."
"What should be done now?" asked her modest friend in an anxious tone.
"Fate shows my path," answered Eugenie, firmly. "I am not intended to
become the slave of a hypocritical and egotistical man. You are aware
that my inclination pushes me toward the stage, where my voice, my
beauty, and my independent spirit will assure me success. The time has
now arrived when I must decide: here, the scandal and contempt of the
crowd; there, applause, fame, and honor. I foresaw it all, though I did
not think it would come in such a shameful way. I have fifty thousand
francs pin-money, and my jewels are worth as much more. Order a
carriage; I have passports for both of us; in an hour we depart for
Belgium."
Louise listened to her friend speechless with astonishment; although she
knew the firmness of her character, she was not prepared for so much
independence.
"But we two girls alone," she hesitatingly said, "cannot--"
"I have looked out for that, too," replied Eugenie, calmly; "the
passport is made out in the name of Monsieur Leon d'Armilly and sister;
while you go for the carriage I will pack the trunks, and change myself
into Monsieur Leon d'Armilly."
Louise mechanically left the room to order the carriage to come to
Danglars' house. When she came back an elegant young man stood near the
trunks, whom no one would have recognized at the first glance as the
proud and courted beauty, Eugenie Danglars. With great difficulty the
two girls carried the trunk through a side door of the house and
deposited it at the next street corner. There the coachman awaited them,
and in a quarter of an hour they had left Paris.
Let us now return to Prince Cavalcanti, _alias_ Benedetto, the hero of
the interrupted party at the banker Danglars' house.
With that cunning peculiar to criminals who scent danger from afar, he
had made his exit at the right time. After he had pocketed the diamonds
which formed a part of Eugenie's _trousseau_, and which were exposed in
the parlor, he scaled the window, slipped an overcoat over his dress,
and made his way out of the house. In thirty minutes he reached an
out-of-the-way suburb of Paris. Without losing a minute of his precious
time, he took a carriage, and left the city under the pretence of having
to catch a friend, who had departed for the chase on the previous day.
The big tip he gave the driver spurred the latter on, and at the end of
an hour Benedetto found himself at Loures, where he discharged his
driver, saying that he would spend the night there.
Benedetto now formed a decisive plan. He did not remain in Loures, but
went on foot to Chapelle-en-Serval, a mile distant, where he arrived
covered with dirt and dust, and entered the nearest inn, telling the
host that he had fallen from his horse. "If you could get me a coach or
a horse, so that I could return to Compiegne, I would be very grateful
to you."
The host really had a horse at his disposal, and in a quarter of an hour
Benedetto, accompanied by the host's son, was on the road to Compiegne,
which he reached about midnight. After he had discharged the boy at the
market-place of the little city, he went to the inn called the Bell and
Bottle, which he had patronized in former times, and to which he was
admitted now.
After Benedetto had eaten a hearty supper, he inquired if he could get a
room on the ground floor, but was forced to accept one on the first
story, as the other had been taken by a young man who had just arrived
with his sister.
The hunted culprit was so tired out by his exertions that he fell into
a deep sleep, and did not wake up early next morning, as he had
intended, but at nine o'clock. Struck by an indescribable fear, he
quickly dressed himself and peered through the window blinds. He
recoiled in terror, for his first glance had fallen upon two policemen
who leaned against the doors with their guns in their hands. His first
thoughts were that he was followed and was lost. He quickly collected
himself, suppressed his excitement, and seizing a piece of paper,
scribbled these words on it with a lead pencil:
"I have no money, but do not desire to owe anything. The inclosed
diamond pin will fully pay for my bill. I was ashamed to acknowledge
this, and therefore left at five o'clock."
After he had attached the pin to the paper, he opened the door and
crawled up the chimney with the agility of a chimney-sweep. Here,
however, the difficulty was to continue his way without being perceived
by any one. He therefore returned and entered another chimney, intending
to wait there until all danger was over. He already began to think
himself saved, when he lost his balance and crashed with a loud noise
through the opening and into a room which was occupied, as was betrayed
by a sudden scream.
A young man and a lady were in the room. The latter had uttered the cry,
while the former pulled vigorously at the bell-rope.
"Rescue me--hide me!" were the first words the villain spoke. He was
about to say more, but the words stuck in his throat, for he had
recognized the young man as Eugenie Danglars.
"Andrea, the murderer!" exclaimed the two women.
"Have mercy! rescue me!" implored Benedetto.
"It is too late," replied Eugenie, "the door is being opened."
At the same moment, the policemen, followed by the whole inn staff,
entered the room. Benedetto saw he was lost. He pulled out a dagger, as
if he wished to attack his captors, but desisted when he saw it would be
fruitless.
"Kill yourself!" exclaimed Eugenie, with the accent of a tragedy queen.
"Bah!" replied Benedetto, "it is too early yet; the whole thing is a
misunderstanding, and I have friends."
With great coolness he held out his hands to the policemen, who put
handcuffs on them.
"Give my regards to your father, Mademoiselle Danglars, and do not be
ashamed. You are my bride, and we ought to have been man and wife
to-day," said Benedetto, sarcastically, as he left the room with the
policemen, leaving Eugenie exposed to the curious and contemptuous
glances of the waiters.