CHECK.
Gabrielle learned to practise her new art so well that day followed
day in usual routine without suspicion being aroused of the bold thing
she had done. It occurred to none of the party that under the same
exterior she was another woman. She went her ways as before,
displaying, perhaps, an increased activity, visiting the distressed,
administering to the sick. Mademoiselle Brunelle was puzzled, and
watched her in idle surprise, marvelling that the squeeze, so
carefully calculated, should so signally have failed in its effect.
What a low mania the mawkish creature was displaying for dirty
wretches clad in rags! That thing a marquise! To crush one who was so
unworthy of her place would be quite a virtuous action, as virtue was
understood by Aglae. The squeeze having proved insufficient for the
purpose, another must be applied. It was difficult to determine what
form the pressure was to take, since the lady was so craven and mean
spirited. Aglae had declared to her face that the marquis was her
lover--which was not true; had spoken of corrupting little Camille,
whose mother, shocked for the moment, had, as it appeared, got used to
the abominable idea with singular rapidity. The ever-increasing scorn
of the governess was mingled now with disdain of a more positive kind
for the pusillanimity of the destined victim.
The family councils had resulted in abdication of authority on the
part of Clovis, who loved his ease, and was only too glad to escape
from politics. How should he cope with two such clever heads as those
of Aglae and Pharamond? The clever pair was in perfect accord as to
what should be done under given circumstances. The governess gently
lured him back to his accustomed pursuits and studies, and his
conscience ceased by degrees to pinch him.
Unknown to each other, the private scheme of each of the conspirators
had miscarried, and both felt that the next move must be made with
exceeding caution. Hence they were to outward seeming extremely
friendly, whilst hating each other with a healthy loathing; making
believe to have all ideas in common, carefully concealing any desire
suddenly to depart from Lorge.
By suggestion of the affinity, they had taken to breakfasting in the
study, where the morning sun shone in, a cosy party of four, in which
Gabrielle was not included. During the meal the abbe would discuss the
latest rumour with the lady at the head of the table in amicable
fashion, or join with her in arguing some point arising out of
Mesmer's letters. The sage was as dissatisfied as his pupil at the
nonappreciation of his discovery. For the miraculous cure of the
baron's sciatic nerve had found no favour with the peasantry of
Touraine, who vowed it was a perilous thing to allow the devil to
tamper with scourges sent from Heaven. That party requires little
encouragement, as all the world knows, and that it was he who had
worked the cure was evident, since the musicians, ere they ran away,
had counted the hairs in his tail. Could there be any doubt that
without witchcraft or direct aid from the evil one, no tubful of
bottles could affect a gentleman's rheumatism? If there had been a
sprinkling of holy water by the good priest, as Madame la Baronne had
piously wished, it would have been quite another affair. But iron
filings and a violoncello! had not the cure preached on the very next
Sunday on the subject of Satanic miracles?
Clovis was heartily disgusted with the crassness of the bucolic
ignorance and the pig-headedness of its obstinacy, and gave a willing
ear to Aglae's secret hints that it might be well, some of these days,
to transplant the magic tub to some more enlightened centre.
She was always right--clear-headed, far-seeing Aglae! He understood
now that the suggestion which had affrighted him on the night of the
attempted suicide had merely been an ebullition of overboiling zeal.
She, had felt a genuine interest in him; had perceived that the
marquise was no fitting helpmeet for a _savant_, and had been unable
to conceal regret that he should not have been freed from a weight
which clogged his scientific usefulness. Over-zeal, as Richelieu
remarked, is productive of more harm than good, but it should be
treated with indulgence in that it springs from laudable intentions.
It was wrong to have said that the chatelaine should have been left to
drown. But in his heart of hearts, Clovis began to confess to himself
that the caresses of the patient during convalescence had been
well-nigh unbearable, and that if Heaven thought well to take her in a
natural way, it would be a relief rather than otherwise.
The even tenour of _dejeuner_ was disturbed one morning by the
announcement that a travelling berline was coming up the road, and
that an old gentleman was looking from its window. A travelling
berline, covered thick with dust, too! Not a neighbour, then. Who
could it be that presumed to invade their monastic privacy? A
messenger from Paris, perhaps. Had something awful happened? The abbe
and the governess glanced at each other suspiciously, the same
unspoken thought occurring to both. Was the crisis come before they
were prepared? If so, the idea of ousting the other one must be
abandoned, and a yet closer alliance formed.
"Monsieur Galland," announced a servant. None of those present had
ever heard the name. Who was he? Whence and from whom had he come?
The gentleman entered, and bowed gravely to the company. A spare, tall
old man, who, despite the march of fashion, wore his hair curled and
powdered. He was clad in plain black cloth, with woollen stockings and
black buckles. A most respectable person, evidently. Would he be good
enough to state his business? He took a chair, accepted a cup of
coffee, and, fixing his eyes on the portly Aglae, in what she
considered an offensive and marked manner, explained that he was a
solicitor. A solicitor? There was no law suit pending that anyone was
aware. What? The confidential man of business of Monsieur le Marechal
de Breze, who was, unfortunately, ill in bed. The grave Gentleman
trusted that the marechal's daughter was not also indisposed. To his
regret he perceived that she was absent from the morning meal of the
family.
Again Pharamond and Aglae glanced at each other. What could the old
man have to say which could not be communicated by letter?
Clovis blushed, and looked for assistance to the abbe. It came upon
him suddenly that what had grown to be quite natural to him, would be
rather difficult to explain to a stranger.
"Madame la Marquise is an angel of charity," demurely remarked the
abbe, "who repudiates the innocent comforts of this life to give the
more time to others. She grudges the hour we waste in dallying, and
prefers to breakfast alone."
"We all know that madame is an angel," agreed the grave stranger;
"much too good for this world."
The company looked one at another in growing uneasiness. There was
something unpleasant coming. It was odd that the announcement of
Gabrielle's being an angel should make them all feel guilty. The
chevalier sighed and wheezed. Clovis's colour deepened. The abbe
drummed his fingers on the cloth, annoyed. The governess scrutinised
the stranger with lowering brow, for instinct whispered that something
had been kept back from her, and that it was on her account he had
come.
"Will monsieur kindly explain his business?" enquired the abbe, with
his sweetest smile. "Of course, any emissary from one who has all our
respect and affection is most welcome at his chateau of Lorge. Yet we
cannot expect that our poor attractions should lure anyone to so quiet
a retreat."
"His chateau of Lorge?" thought the governess, surprised. "Surely it
belongs to the marquis?"
"I hope M. de Breze is not seriously ill?" asked Clovis, with an
effort. It was incumbent on him to say something.
"Too indisposed, unfortunately, to travel, even on important business.
You are aware that Madame la Marquise has made a communication to her
father?"
If a cannon ball had dropped through the ceiling, the company could
not have looked more startled. The solicitor smiled, and then grew
graver than before. There was consternation on every face. The
position of the marquise was evidently more serious even than she had
said. The letter had been sent clandestinely, or it would have been
suppressed.
"The communication was a sad blow to the marechal," the solicitor
continued quietly, "and increased the fever under which he suffered.
Nevertheless, he would be here himself had not the doctors and Madame
la Marechale almost employed force. It is as well that the marquise
should happen to be absent, for it makes my task the easier. Plainly,
marquis, M. de Breze demands the instant dismissal of a person in your
employ who has seriously offended his daughter."
Aglae's massive jaw dropped in dumb amazement, while the abbe shot at
her a covert glance of white hot malevolence. She had been up to some
nefarious prank on her own account, unknown to him: had spoiled his
game as well as her own. His frail fingers writhed like adders under
the table. How he would have liked to strangle her.
"I--offend madame?" faltered the governess, dumbfoundered.
The ground was slipping from beneath her. By what right could the old
gentleman in Paris send so peremptory a demand to his son-in-law? The
sly minx was not so mean-spirited after all. Who could have supposed
her capable of turning the tables, by secretly sending for her father?
Aglae looked at the marquis, whose face was dark as a thundercloud.
Gaining courage from a certainty of his support, she added, toying
carelessly with a coffee-spoon--
"I have always done my duty by madame's children, whom she never
looked after herself. I was engaged by M. le Marquis, who has
expressed himself satisfied with my efforts."
"Do I understand that mademoiselle declines to go?" enquired the
solicitor. "M. le Marquis is strangely silent. Shall I, to my infinite
regret, be compelled to carry out my instructions in full?"
The stranger dared to threaten the Marquis de Gange!
Mademoiselle Brunelle glanced furtively at the abbe, who glared at
her. She was bewildered, possessing no key to the puzzle.
"My instructions are," pursued the solicitor, "to see the dismissed
person off the premises, within two hours. In the event of her
refusing to go, M. le Marquis is to be informed, that I am to remove
Madame la Marquise at once, and that, if she is detained it will be
the painful duty of the Marechal de Breze to prosecute certain
individuals, whom I need not designate, for conspiracy and cruelty.
The officers of law at Blois have their instructions. If the dismissed
person does not present herself there within a given time to receive
her wages, or if I do not arrive in the company of Madame la Marquise,
the officers will come here and demand admittance to the premises
belonging to the marechal. I am glad to be informed that madame is
universally beloved. A whisper that she received cruel treatment would
rouse the province, and this I need scarcely observe, is not the
moment for a collision with the _tiers etat_."
Excellently planned. The abbe, a good critic of such matters, was
filled with appreciative admiration, although he was to be one of the
sufferers. Aglae had been guilty of some prodigious blunder for which
she was to be justly punished. That was well, for in acting
independently of him, she had broken a solemn promise. He also, he
admitted inwardly, had not displayed his usual astuteness. Doubtless
her intense horror of him had helped to goad the victim to that which
he had falsely judged she would never do. Then a sense that she had
shaken herself free of him, aroused a new access of impotent fury in
his breast. She had defied his hate as well as his love, and he
shivered with malignant spite at the idea, that by claiming her
father's protection she had baffled him.
Clovis felt more angry than ever in his life before. It was a
revelation of an unpleasant kind to find himself in leading strings;
the state of dependence of which the abbe hinted long ago, to be
ordered like a lacquey, to be threatened and browbeaten in the
presence of others--he, Marquis de Gange, above all, under the eyes of
the affinity, and to be powerless to return blow for blow. To be so
degraded and humiliated, and at the instance of his own wife! It was
some moments ere he could control the whirlwind of emotions
sufficiently to command his voice.
"Am I to gather," he at length said, huskily, "that Madame la Marquise
requires a separation? I am surprised, for she has never spoken on the
subject. What if I refuse, and claim my marital rights?"
"It is always such angels as she," the solicitor observed sternly,
"who are doomed to earthly martyrdom at the hands of wicked men. Your
rights! And what of hers? You have compelled her to dwell under one
roof with a designing wanton. You have deprived her of access to her
children. After that mere neglect may count for nothing. I am sorry to
say that all madame demands is the dismissal of that woman, free
access to the children, and a show of respect from you. So much being
conceded, bygones are to be bygones. Her terms refused, she will leave
your roof, her father will withdraw supplies from you, and give you
notice to quit his property."
Then the money was the old man's, and not the marquis's. Aglae hated
everybody, herself included, at thought of how she had been duped.
"I will go when you will," she said, preparing to withdraw, with a
whimsical attempt to don a martyr's chaplet. "I thank the marquis for
his many kindnesses. May I have a moment to embrace the cherubs? I am
glad to think that they will miss me more than anyone. As for madame,
I can only pity her delusions, knowing that she will be sorry some day
when she comes to know me better."
At this juncture the door opened, and Gabrielle entered in her riding
habit, pale but composed. Without noticing the others, she advanced
quickly to the new-comer and held forth her hand.
"Dear M. Galland," she said. "My father!----"
"Was sorely troubled by what you wrote to him."
"I feared it," she replied dejectedly. "But there were reasons."
"Reasons!" cried the old gentleman with warmth. "I can read the
reasons in your saddened face. I am sorry to be unable to congratulate
madame upon her blooming looks. She was wrong not to have spoken
sooner."
"I could not," pleaded Gabrielle. "It takes long for a loyal love to
smoulder out of life. I could have borne all, if she there had not
threatened to instil poison into a child's mind. Just think of it! My
God! How monstrous!"
"She never did that," Clovis put in hotly. "Never, never! You may see
the children yourself, sir, and question them. Such a calumny is
atrocious!"
"Thanks! Oh--thanks for that!" murmured the deep tones of
mademoiselle, as with theatrical gesture she hastily knelt and kissed
his hand. "When I have been chased away, it will be a comfort to
remember that I never lost your confidence."
"In this affair, I play a pretty part!" exclaimed the marquis,
bitterly.
"Between us," Gabrielle said mournfully, gazing at her husband's
averted back as he crouched in his fauteuil, "all is over. We are
hopelessly divided. And yet, take comfort. In years to come, maybe,
when Victor and Camille are man and woman, we may be joined again by
them. Mademoiselle, I wish no harm to you--only that after this day we
may never come face to face."
Unaccustomed tears stood on the seamed cheeks of M. Galland. It was
well that fiery old de Breze had not arrived in person. The visage of
the white chatelaine told such a tale that bloodshed might have ensued
which all would have deplored. The interview was painful, and it
behoved him to cut it short.
"If the person intends to obey orders," the solicitor said curtly,
looking at his watch, "she had better waste no time. Such clothes as
she cannot pack quickly will be sent after her. I have messages from
your father, marquise, that must not be delivered here. Might I ask
the favour of being conducted to the nursery, that I may make faithful
reports to my employer?"
Aglae bit her lips. This was a cunning stroke to present a theatrical
display, _a la Medea_. Gabrielle consented gratefully, and led the
way, leaving the marquis tingling with humbled vanity, and a
reawakened remorse that would not be quieted.
His face was buried in his hands, and he was too absorbed in the
contemplation of his own outraged self to attend to the woes of
others.
Aglae sidled up to the abbe timidly. Her usual masterful confidence
had melted into air.
"Is there no hope?" she whispered.
"None!" was the blunt rejoinder. "You must submit to instant
banishment, which serves you right. So it was you who, by your
besotted folly drove her to this? I hope you will die in penury.
Idiot! Not to know that the vilest animal will turn if threatened in
its offspring."
Of course, the abbe was just the man to jump upon the fallen! Was it
her fault that she had been kept in the dark with regard to
circumstances, which, if known, would have changed her tactics? All
was not lost. It was but a temporary defeat such as the most skilful
generals must submit to sometimes. It would not do to quarrel openly
with the abbe, though, in her trouble he was behaving like a brute.
Therefore, while wreathing her face in smiles, she registered an
inward vow to remember, and be bitterly revenged some day.
"_Sans rancune!_" she said lightly, holding out her large brown hand.
"You are not merciful, but I forgive you: am I not admirably generous?
You think I am cast out for ever. A grievous mistake; so we had best
still be friends. Look at him. He is chafing now, wincing under the
whip thong. In the distractions of the capital he might forget me.
Here he will miss me and be sorry."
It was likely that in that much she was right. The house of cards had
been kicked over by her clumsy foot, and must be recommenced from the
foundations. Who could foretell what the stormy future might bring
forth? It was politic to keep on civil terms with one who might yet
prove formidable--or useful.
The chevalier, who could read things hazily, as in the dark with a
horn lantern, wondered why his brother was so civil to the routed one.
He led her to the carriage with a ceremony suited to an archduchess,
and stood under the archway where the portcullis used to hang, airily
kissing his finger-tips till the berline was out of sight.