About an hour afterwards Madame d'Albret, who had left me on the bed
while she went down to her sister, came up again, and spoke to me, but
from weakness occasioned by the loss of blood and from excitement, I
talked for many minutes in the most incoherent manner, and Madame
d'Albret was seriously alarmed. In the meantime the colonel had come
home, and his wife explained what had happened. She led him up to my
room just at the time that I was raving. He took the candle, and looked
at my swelled features, and said, "I should not have recognised the poor
girl. Mort de ma vie! but this is infamous, and Monsieur de Chatenoeuf
is a contemptible coward. I will see him to-morrow morning."
The colonel and his wife then left the room. By this time I had
recovered from my paroxysm. Madame d'Albret came to me, and putting her
face close to mine, said, "Valerie."
"Yes, madame," replied I.
"Are you more composed now? Do you think that you could listen to me?"
"Yes, madame, and thankfully," replied I.
"Well, then, my plan is this. I am sure that the colonel will take you
home to-morrow. Let him do so; in the morning I will tell you how to
behave. To-morrow night you shall escape, and I will be with a _fiacre_
at the corner of the street ready to receive you. I will take you to my
house, and no one, not even my sister, shall know that you are with me.
They will believe that you have thrown yourself into the Seine, and as
the regiment is ordered to Lyons, and will leave in ten days or a
fortnight, there will be no chance, if you are concealed till their
departure, of their knowing that you are alive."
"Thank you, thank you, madame, you know not how happy you have made me,"
replied I, pressing my hand to my heart, which throbbed painfully with
joy. "God bless you, Madame d'Albret. Oh, how I shall pray for you,
kind Madame d'Albret!"
Madame d'Albret shed tears over me after I had done speaking, and then
wishing me good-night, told me that she would see me in the morning, and
let me know what was going on, and then give me further directions for
my conduct. She then left me, and I tried to go to sleep, but I was in
too much pain. Once I did slumber, and dreamt that my mother was
beating me again. I screamed with the pain that the blows gave me and
awoke. I slept no more that night. At daylight I rose, and, as may be
supposed, the first thing that I did was to look into the glass. I was
terrified; my face was swelled so that my features were hardly
distinguishable; one eye was closed up, and the blood had oozed out
through the handkerchief which had been tied round my head by the
surgeon. I was, indeed, an object. The servant brought me up some
coffee, which I drank, and then remained till the colonel's wife came up
to me.
It was the first and only time that I ever beheld that good woman angry.
She called from the top of the stairs for her husband to come up; he
did so, looked at me, said nothing, but went down again. About
half-an-hour afterwards Madame d'Albret and the surgeon came up
together. The latter was interrogated by her as to the effects of the
injuries I had received, and after examination, he replied, that
although it would take some days for the inflammation and marks of the
blows to go away, yet he did not consider that eventually I should be in
any way disfigured. This gave me great pleasure, as I suspect it would
have done any other pretty girl in my situation. Madame d'Albret waited
till the surgeon was gone, and then gave me some further instructions,
which I obeyed to the letter. She also brought me a black veil in case
I had not one of my own. She then left me, saying, that the colonel had
sent for my father, and that she wished to be present at the interview.
My father came, and the colonel, after stating the treatment which I had
received, loaded him with reproaches; told him his conduct was that of a
coward to allow his wife to be guilty of such cruelty towards his child.
Then he sent Madame d'Albret to bring me down; when I entered, my
father started back with surprise; he had answered the colonel
haughtily, but when he beheld the condition I was in, he said, "Colonel,
you are right; I deserve all you have said and even more, but now do me
the favour to accompany me home. Come, Valerie, my poor child, your
father begs your pardon."
As my father took my hand to lead me away, Madame d'Albret said to the
colonel, "My dear Allarde, do you not incur a heavy responsibility in
allowing that girl to go back again? You know what she said yesterday."
"Yes, ma chere, I have been told by your sister, but it was said in a
state of excitement, and I have no doubt that kindness will remove all
such ideas. Monsieur de Chatenoeuf, I am at your orders."
I never said a word during all this interview. Madame d'Albret tied the
black veil round my head and let it fall to conceal my features, and I
was led home by my father accompanied by the colonel. We went into the
room where my mother was sitting. My father lifted the veil from my
face.
"Madame," said my father, in a severe tone, "do you see the condition to
which your barbarity has reduced this poor girl? I have brought
Monsieur Allarde here to tell you before him, that your conduct has been
infamous, and that mine has been unpardonable in not having protected
her from your cruelty; but I now tell you, that you have bent the bow
till it has broken, and your power in this house is ended for ever."
My mother was so much astonished at this severe rebuke before witnesses,
that she remained with her mouth open and her eyes staring. At last she
gave a sort of chuckling laugh.
"Madame, I am in earnest," continued my father, "and you shall find that
in future I command here. To your room, madame, immediately!"
The last word was pronounced in a voice of thunder. My mother rose, and
as she retired, burst into a passionate flood of tears. The colonel
then took his leave, saying to my father.
"Tenez-vous la."
My father remained a quarter of an hour with me, consoling me and
blaming himself, and promising that in future he would see me done
justice to. I heard him without reply. The tears started in my eyes at
his kind expressions, but I felt there was no security for his adhering
to all he promised, and I trembled as I thought so. He left me and went
out. My mother, who had been watching, as soon as she saw that he had
left the house, hastened downstairs from her room, and came into the one
where I was sitting alone.
"So, mademoiselle," said she, panting, and apparently striving to
contain herself, "my power in this house is gone for ever, and all
through you. Ha, ha, ha! we shall see, we shall see. D'ye hear me,
creature?" continued she, with her clenched hand close to my face. "No,
not yet," said she, after a pause, and then she left the room.
If my father's kindness had somewhat staggered my resolution, this
conduct of my mother's confirmed it. I felt that she was right in what
she said, and that in a month she would regain her sway, and drive me to
desperation. During the whole of that day I made no reply to anything
that was said to me by my brothers and sisters, who came in by stealth
to see me. In this I followed the advice of Madame d'Albret, and at the
same time my own feelings and inclinations. The servants who offered me
dinner, and coaxed me to take some nourishment, could not get any answer
from me, and at last one of them, who was a kind-hearted girl, burst out
into tears, crying that mademoiselle was _folle_. My father did not
come home to dinner; my mother remained in her room till he came in in
the evening, and then he went up to her. It wanted but half-an-hour of
the time that I had agreed to meet Madame d'Albret. I waited that time,
during which I heard sounds of high altercation above stairs. I was
quite alone, for my mother had prevented the children coming to me, and
as the clock struck, I dropped my veil over my face and quietly walking
out of the house, made for the rendezvous agreed.
I found the _fiacre_ with Madame d'Albret waiting for me, and stepping
into it, I was in a few minutes safely lodged in her splendid
comfortable apartments. Madame d'Albret put me in a little cabinet
inside of her own room, so that no one, except one servant whom she
could trust, knew of my being on the premises. There I was left to
recover from my bruises, and regain, if possible, my good looks. On the
following day she repaired to the barracks, and remained with her sister
till the evening, when she returned, and came up to me.
"All has happened as I wished," said she, as she took off her bonnet;
"you are nowhere to be found, and they have not the least suspicion that
you are here. When you were first missed, they thought you had returned
to the colonel's, and your father did not think it advisable to make
inquiry until the next morning, when to his surprise he learnt that you
had never been there. The dismounted hussar, who was sentry during the
evening, was then examined; and he replied, that about half-past eight
o'clock, a young person, who by her figure he presumed to be
Mademoiselle Chatenoeuf, had gone out of the gates, but that she had a
thick veil over her face, and he could not see it. When your father and
the colonel had interrogated the man and dismissed him, my poor sister
burst into tears and said, `Alas! alas! then she has kept her word, and
has thrown herself into the Seine. Oh, Monsieur Allarde, my sister said
you would incur a heavy responsibility by sending that poor girl back,
and now it has proved but too true: poor dear Valerie!' Your father and
the colonel were almost as much distressed as my sister, and it was just
at that time that I came in.
"`Sister,' cried Madame Allarde to me, `Valerie has left the barracks.'
"`What!' exclaimed I, `When? oh my fear was too true!' said I, clasping
my hands and then taking out my handkerchief, I covered my face and
sobbed. I tell you, Valerie, that nothing but my affection for you
would have induced me to be so deceitful, but under the circumstances I
hope I was justified. My assumed grief and distress quite removed any
suspicion of your being here, and shortly afterwards the colonel made a
sign to your father, and they both left the barracks; I have no doubt
they went down to the Morgue, to ascertain if their fears had already
been proved correct."
"What is the Morgue, madame?" said I.
"Do you not know, my child? It is a small building by the side of the
Seine, where all bodies which are found in the river are laid out for
the examination of the friends of those who are missing. Below the
bridges there is a large strong net laid across, which receives all the
bodies as they are swept away by the tide; that is, it receives many, if
not most of them, but some are never found again."
Madame Allarde did not fail to return to the barracks on the next day,
and found that a general excitement prevailed, not only among the
officers but the men. My supposed suicide had been made known. My
father had visited the Morgue a second time, and the police had been on
the search without success. My mother dared not even show herself at
the window of her apartments, and found herself avoided even by her own
children. As for my father, he was half mad, and never met her but to
load her with reproaches, and to curse his own folly in having so long
submitted to her imperious will.
"At all events, one good has arisen from your supposed death, Valerie,"
said Madame d'Albret, "which is, that your father has completely resumed
his authority, and I do not think will ever yield it up again."
"My poor father," replied I, shedding tears, "I feel for him."
"He is certainly to be pitied," replied Madame d'Albret, "but it is his
own conscience which must be his greatest tormentor. He was selfish
enough not to feel for you during your years of persecution, and rather
than have his own comforts invaded by domestic brawls for a short
period, he allowed you to be sacrificed. But observe, Valerie, if you
have still a wish to return to your parents, it is not too late. The
regiment does not leave Paris till next Thursday."
"Oh, no, no," cried I, "my mother would kill me; don't mention that
again, madame," continued I, trembling.
"I will not, my child, for to tell you the truth, you would not appear
in so favourable a light, if you were now to return. You have caused
much grief to my sister and husband, and they would not receive you with
cordiality after having thus trifled with their feelings. It would also
be a victory for your mother; and I doubt not but that in a short time
she would again recover that power which for the present she has lost.
You never can be happy in your family after what has passed, and I think
that what has been done is for the best. Your father can well spare one
child out of fourteen, having little more than a long sword for their
support. Your supposed death will be the cause of your father retaining
his lawful authority, and preventing any of the remaining children
receiving such injustice as you have done; and remorse will check, if it
does not humanise your mother, and I trust that the latter will be the
case. I had well weighed all this in my mind, my dear Valerie, before I
made the proposal, and I consider still that for your sake and for the
sake of others, it is better that you should be the sacrifice.
Nevertheless, I repeat, consult your own feelings, and if you repent the
step which you have taken, there is yet time for you to return."
"My dear madame, return I never will, unless I am taken by force. All I
feel is, that I should like that my father's bitter anguish was assuaged
by his knowledge of my being still in existence."
"And so should I, Valerie, were it possible that the communication could
be made, and the same happy results be arrived at; but that cannot be,
unless it should please Heaven to summon your mother, and then you might
safely inform your father of your existence."
"You are right, madame."
"Yes, I think I am, Valerie; for, after all, your father duly deserves
his severe penance, which is, to visit the Morgue every day; but painful
as is the remedy, it is necessary for the cure."
"Yes, madame," replied I, sobbing, "all you say is true, but still I
cannot help weeping and pitying my poor father; not that it alters my
determination, but I cannot command my feelings."
"Your feelings do you honour, Valerie, and I do not blame you for your
grief. Do not, however, indulge it to excess, for that is turning a
virtue into a failing."
There were still three days remaining previous to the departure of the
regiment for Lyons. I was sorely distressed during this time. I
pictured to myself my father's remorse, and would gladly have hastened
to the barracks and thrown myself into his arms, but my mother's image
rose before me, and her last words, "We shall see if my power is gone
for ever," rung in my ears; her clenched hand was apparently close to my
face, and then my resolution remained fixed. The swelling of my
features had now subsided, and I had in some degree recovered my good
looks; still my eye and cheeks were tinged black and yellow in various
places, and the cuts on my head not quite healed. However, I was
satisfied that the surgeon of the regiment was correct in his assertion
that I should not be the least disfigured by the treatment which I had
received.
"I have news for you," said Madame d'Albret, as she returned from the
barracks, where she had been to see her sister off on her journey.
"Your brother, Auguste, who you know has been away, has returned to
rejoin his regiment, but has since obtained his rank in another, which
is stationed at Brest."
"Why has he done so, madame? do you know? have you seen him?"
"Yes; he was at the colonel's; he stated that he could not remain in the
regiment if his mother continued with his father; that he should never
be able after what had happened to treat his mother with common
courtesy, still less with the duty of a son, and therefore he preferred
leaving the regiment."
"And my father, madame?"
"Your father allows him to act as he pleases; indeed, he feels the force
of what your brother says, and so does my brother-in-law, who has given
his assent, as commanding officer, to your brother's exchange. Auguste
laments you very much, and the poor fellow looks very ill. I think he
has done right, although it is a severe blow to your mother; but for her
I have no compassion."
"My mother never liked Auguste, madame."
"No, I believe that; but what annoys her is the cause of his leaving his
regiment, as it is open condemnation of her conduct."
"Yes, I can understand that feeling on her part," replied I.
"Well, Valerie, I did not return until the regiment was gone and the
barracks cleared. You know the commandant always goes the last. I saw
my sister safe off, and now I am here to tell you that you are no longer
a prisoner, but may make yourself comfortable by roving through my
apartments. But the first affair which we must take in hand is your
wardrobe. I am rich enough to furnish you, so that shall be seen to
immediately. And, Valerie dear, let me now say once for all, what I do
not intend to repeat in words, but I hope to prove by my actions. Look
upon me as your mother, for I have not taken you away from your family
without the resolution of supplying, as far as I can, not the mother you
have lost, but the mother which in your dreams you have fancied. I love
you, my child, for you are deserving of love. Treat me, therefore, with
that unlimited confidence and affection which your young and pure heart
yearns to pour out."
"Bless you, madame, bless you," cried I, bursting into tears, and
burying my face in her lap; "I feel that now I have a mother."