sofa with a look which everybody else took as a hint to go. Monsieur
and Madame Coquet, after exchanging a few words, left the room, and
Claude Vignon, in despair, followed their example. These two
departures were a hint to less intelligent persons, who now found that
they were not wanted. The Baron and Crevel were left together, and
spoke never a word. Hulot, at last, ignoring Crevel, went on tiptoe to
listen at the bedroom door; but he bounded back with a prodigious
jump, for Marneffe opened the door and appeared with a calm face,
astonished to find only the two men.
"And the tea?" said he.
"Where is Valerie?" replied the Baron in a rage.
"My wife," said Marneffe. "She is gone upstairs to speak to
mademoiselle your cousin. She will come down directly."
"And why has she deserted us for that stupid creature?"
"Well," said Marneffe, "Mademoiselle Lisbeth came back from dining
with the Baroness with an attack of indigestion and Mathurine asked
Valerie for some tea for her, so my wife went up to see what was the
matter."
"And _her_ cousin?"
"He is gone."
"Do you really believe that?" said the Baron.
"I have seen him to his carriage," replied Marneffe, with a hideous
smirk.
The wheels of a departing carriage were audible in the street. The
Baron, counting Marneffe for nothing, went upstairs to Lisbeth. An
idea flashed through him such as the heart sends to the brain when it
is on fire with jealousy. Marneffe's baseness was so well known to
him, that he could imagine the most degrading connivance between
husband and wife.
"What has become of all the ladies and gentlemen?" said Marneffe,
finding himself alone with Crevel.
"When the sun goes to bed, the cocks and hens follow suit," said
Crevel. "Madame Marneffe disappeared, and her adorers departed. Will
you play a game of piquet?" added Crevel, who meant to remain.
He too believed that the Brazilian was in the house.
Monsieur Marneffe agreed. The Mayor was a match for the Baron. Simply
by playing cards with the husband he could stay on indefinitely; and
Marneffe, since the suppression of the public tables, was quite
satisfied with the more limited opportunities of private play.
Baron Hulot went quickly up to Lisbeth's apartment, but the door was
locked, and the usual inquiries through the door took up time enough
to enable the two light-handed and cunning women to arrange the scene
of an attack of indigestion with the accessories of tea. Lisbeth was
in such pain that Valerie was very much alarmed, and consequently
hardly paid any heed to the Baron's furious entrance. Indisposition is
one of the screens most often placed by women to ward off a quarrel.
Hulot peeped about, here and there, but could see no spot in Cousin
Betty's room where a Brazilian might lie hidden.
"Your indigestion does honor to my wife's dinner, Lisbeth," said he,
scrutinizing her, for Lisbeth was perfectly well, trying to imitate
the hiccough of spasmodic indigestion as she drank her tea.
"How lucky it is that dear Betty should be living under my roof!" said
Madame Marneffe. "But for me, the poor thing would have died."
"You look as if you only half believed it," added Lisbeth, turning to
the Baron, "and that would be a shame----"
"Why?" asked the Baron. "Do you know the purpose of my visit?"
And he leered at the door of a dressing-closet from which the key had
been withdrawn.
"Are you talking Greek?" said Madame Marneffe, with an appealing look
of misprized tenderness and devotedness.
"But it is all through you, my dear cousin; yes, it is your doing that
I am in such a state," said Lisbeth vehemently.
This speech diverted the Baron's attention; he looked at the old maid
with the greatest astonishment.
"You know that I am devoted to you," said Lisbeth. "I am here, that
says everything. I am wearing out the last shreds of my strength in
watching over your interests, since they are one with our dear
Valerie's. Her house costs one-tenth of what any other does that is
kept on the same scale. But for me, Cousin, instead of two thousand
francs a month, you would be obliged to spend three or four thousand."
"I know all that," replied the Baron out of patience; "you are our
protectress in many ways," he added, turning to Madame Marneffe and
putting his arm round her neck.--"Is not she, my pretty sweet?"
"On my honor," exclaimed Valerie, "I believe you are gone mad!"
"Well, you cannot doubt my attachment," said Lisbeth. "But I am also
very fond of my cousin Adeline, and I found her in tears. She has not
seen you for a month. Now that is really too bad; you leave my poor
Adeline without a sou. Your daughter Hortense almost died of it when
she was told that it is thanks to your brother that we had any dinner
at all. There was not even bread in your house this day.
"Adeline is heroically resolved to keep her sufferings to herself. She
said to me, 'I will do as you have done!' The speech went to my heart;
and after dinner, as I thought of what my cousin had been in 1811, and
of what she is in 1841--thirty years after--I had a violent
indigestion.--I fancied I should get over it; but when I got home, I
thought I was dying--"
"You see, Valerie, to what my adoration of you has brought me! To
crime--domestic crime!"
"Oh! I was wise never to marry!" cried Lisbeth, with savage joy. "You
are a kind, good man; Adeline is a perfect angel;--and this is the
reward of her blind devotion."
"An elderly angel!" said Madame Marneffe softly, as she looked half
tenderly, half mockingly, at her Hector, who was gazing at her as an
examining judge gazes at the accused.
"My poor wife!" said Hulot. "For more than nine months I have given
her no money, though I find it for you, Valerie; but at what a cost!
No one else will ever love you so, and what torments you inflict on me
in return!"
"Torments?" she echoed. "Then what do you call happiness?"
"I do not yet know on what terms you have been with this so-called
cousin whom you never mentioned to me," said the Baron, paying no heed
to Valerie's interjection. "But when he came in I felt as if a
penknife had been stuck into my heart. Blinded I may be, but I am not
blind. I could read his eyes, and yours. In short, from under that
ape's eyelids there flashed sparks that he flung at you--and your
eyes!--Oh! you have never looked at me so, never! As to this mystery,
Valerie, it shall all be cleared up. You are the only woman who ever
made me know the meaning of jealousy, so you need not be surprised by
what I say.--But another mystery which has rent its cloud, and it
seems to me infamous----"
"Go on, go on," said Valerie.
"It is that Crevel, that square lump of flesh and stupidity, is in
love with you, and that you accept his attentions with so good a grace
that the idiot flaunts his passion before everybody."
"Only three! Can you discover no more?" asked Madame Marneffe.
"There may be more!" retorted the Baron.
"If Monsieur Crevel is in love with me, he is in his rights as a man
after all; if I favored his passion, that would indeed be the act of a
coquette, or of a woman who would leave much to be desired on your
part.--Well, love me as you find me, or let me alone. If you restore
me to freedom, neither you nor Monsieur Crevel will ever enter my
doors again. But I will take up with my cousin, just to keep my hand
in, in those charming habits you suppose me to indulge.--Good-bye,
Monsieur le Baron Hulot."
She rose, but the Baron took her by the arm and made her sit down
again. The old man could not do without Valerie. She had become more
imperatively indispensable to him than the necessaries of life; he
preferred remaining in uncertainty to having any proof of Valerie's
infidelity.
"My dearest Valerie," said he, "do you not see how miserable I am? I
only ask you to justify yourself. Give me sufficient reasons--"
"Well, go downstairs and wait for me; for I suppose you do not wish to
look on at the various ceremonies required by your cousin's state."
Hulot slowly turned away.
"You old profligate," cried Lisbeth, "you have not even asked me how
your children are? What are you going to do for Adeline? I, at any
rate, will take her my savings to-morrow."
"You owe your wife white bread to eat at least," said Madame Marneffe,
smiling.
The Baron, without taking offence at Lisbeth's tone, as despotic as
Josepha's, got out of the room, only too glad to escape so importunate
a question.
The door bolted once more, the Brazilian came out of the
dressing-closet, where he had been waiting, and he appeared with his
eyes full of tears, in a really pitiable condition. Montes had heard
everything.
"Henri, you must have ceased to love me, I know it!" said Madame
Marneffe, hiding her face in her handkerchief and bursting into tears.
It was the outcry of real affection. The cry of a woman's despair is
so convincing that it wins the forgiveness that lurks at the bottom of
every lover's heart--when she is young and pretty, and wears a gown so
low that she could slip out at the top and stand in the garb of Eve.
"But why, if you love me, do you not leave everything for my sake?"
asked the Brazilian.
This South American born, being logical, as men are who have lived the
life of nature, at once resumed the conversation at the point where it
had been broken off, putting his arm round Valerie's waist.
"Why?" she repeated, gazing up at Henri, whom she subjugated at once
by a look charged with passion, "why, my dear boy, I am married; we
are in Paris, not in the savannah, the pampas, the backwoods of
America.--My dear Henri, my first and only love, listen to me. That
husband of mine, a second clerk in the War Office, is bent on being a
head-clerk and officer of the Legion of Honor; can I help his being
ambitious? Now for the very reason that made him leave us our liberty
--nearly four years ago, do you remember, you bad boy?--he now
abandons me to Monsieur Hulot. I cannot get rid of that dreadful
official, who snorts like a grampus, who has fins in his nostrils, who
is sixty-three years old, and who had grown ten years older by dint of
trying to be young; who is so odious to me that the very day when
Marneffe is promoted, and gets his Cross of the Legion of Honor----"
"How much more will your husband get then?"
"A thousand crowns."
"I will pay him as much in an annuity," said Baron Montes. "We will
leave Paris and go----"
"Where?" said Valerie, with one of the pretty sneers by which a woman
makes fun of a man she is sure of. "Paris is the only place where we
can live happy. I care too much for your love to risk seeing it die
out in a _tete-a-tete_ in the wilderness. Listen, Henri, you are the
only man I care for in the whole world. Write that down clearly in
your tiger's brain."
For women, when they have made a sheep of a man, always tell him that
he is a lion with a will of iron.
"Now, attend to me. Monsieur Marneffe has not five years to live; he
is rotten to the marrow of his bones. He spends seven months of the
twelve in swallowing drugs and decoctions; he lives wrapped in
flannel; in short, as the doctor says, he lives under the scythe, and
may be cut off at any moment. An illness that would not harm another
man would be fatal to him; his blood is corrupt, his life undermined
at the root. For five years I have never allowed him to kiss me--he is
poisonous! Some day, and the day is not far off, I shall be a widow.
Well, then, I--who have already had an offer from a man with sixty
thousand francs a year, I who am as completely mistress of that man as
I am of this lump of sugar--I swear to you that if you were as poor as
Hulot and as foul as Marneffe, if you beat me even, still you are the
only man I will have for a husband, the only man I love, or whose name
I will ever bear. And I am ready to give any pledge of my love that
you may require."
"Well, then, to-night----"
"But you, son of the South, my splendid jaguar, come expressly for me
from the virgin forest of Brazil," said she, taking his hand and
kissing and fondling it, "I have some consideration for the poor
creature you mean to make your wife.--Shall I be your wife, Henri?"
"Yes," said the Brazilian, overpowered by this unbridled volubility of
passion. And he knelt at her feet.
"Well, then, Henri," said Valerie, taking his two hands and looking
straight into his eyes, "swear to me now, in the presence of Lisbeth,
my best and only friend, my sister--that you will make me your wife at
the end of my year's widowhood."
"I swear it."
"That is not enough. Swear by your mother's ashes and eternal
salvation, swear by the Virgin Mary and by all your hopes as a
Catholic!"
Valerie knew that the Brazilian would keep that oath even if she
should have fallen into the foulest social slough.
The Baron solemnly swore it, his nose almost touching Valerie's white
bosom, and his eyes spellbound. He was drunk, drunk as a man is when
he sees the woman he loves once more, after a sea voyage of a hundred
and twenty days.
"Good. Now be quite easy. And in Madame Marneffe respect the future
Baroness de Montejanos. You are not to spend a sou upon me; I forbid
it.--Stay here in the outer room; sleep on the sofa. I myself will
come and tell you when you may move.--We will breakfast to-morrow
morning, and you can be leaving at about one o'clock as if you had
come to call at noon. There is nothing to fear; the gate-keepers love
me as much as if they were my father and mother.--Now I must go down
and make tea."
She beckoned to Lisbeth, who followed her out on to the landing. There
Valerie whispered in the old maid's ear:
"My darkie has come back too soon. I shall die if I cannot avenge you
on Hortense!"
"Make your mind easy, my pretty little devil!" said Lisbeth, kissing
her forehead. "Love and Revenge on the same track will never lose the
game. Hortense expects me to-morrow; she is in beggary. For a thousand
francs you may have a thousand kisses from Wenceslas."
On leaving Valerie, Hulot had gone down to the porter's lodge and made
a sudden invasion there.
"Madame Olivier?"
On hearing the imperious tone of this address, and seeing the action
by which the Baron emphasized it, Madame Olivier came out into the
courtyard as far as the Baron led her.
"You know that if any one can help your son to a connection by and by,
it is I; it is owing to me that he is already third clerk in a
notary's office, and is finishing his studies."
"Yes, Monsieur le Baron; and indeed, sir, you may depend on our
gratitude. Not a day passes that I do not pray to God for Monsieur le
Baron's happiness."
"Not so many words, my good woman," said Hulot, "but deeds----"
"What can I do, sir?" asked Madame Olivier.
"A man came here to-night in a carriage. Do you know him?"
Madame Olivier had recognized Montes well enough. How could she have
forgotten him? In the Rue du Doyenne the Brazilian had always slipped
a five-franc piece into her hand as he went out in the morning, rather
too early. If the Baron had applied to Monsieur Olivier, he would
perhaps have learned all he wanted to know. But Olivier was in bed. In
the lower orders the woman is not merely the superior of the man--she
almost always has the upper hand. Madame Olivier had long since made
up her mind as to which side to take in case of a collision between
her two benefactors; she regarded Madame Marneffe as the stronger
power.
"Do I know him?" she repeated. "No, indeed, no. I never saw him
before!"
"What! Did Madame Marneffe's cousin never go to see her when she was
living in the Rue du Doyenne?"
"Oh! Was it her cousin?" cried Madame Olivier. "I dare say he did
come, but I did not know him again. Next time, sir, I will look at
him----"
"He will be coming out," said Hulot, hastily interrupting Madame
Olivier.
"He has left," said Madame Olivier, understanding the situation. "The
carriage is gone."
"Did you see him go?"
"As plainly as I see you. He told his servant to drive to the
Embassy."
This audacious statement wrung a sigh of relief from the Baron; he
took Madame Olivier's hand and squeezed it.
"Thank you, my good Madame Olivier. But that is not all.--Monsieur
Crevel?"
"Monsieur Crevel? What can you mean, sir? I do not understand," said
Madame Olivier.
"Listen to me. He is Madame Marneffe's lover----"
"Impossible, Monsieur le Baron; impossible," said she, clasping her
hands.
"He is Madame Marneffe's lover," the Baron repeated very positively.
"How do they manage it? I don't know; but I mean to know, and you are
to find out. If you can put me on the tracks of this intrigue, your
son is a notary."
"Don't you fret yourself so, Monsieur le Baron," said Madame Olivier.
"Madame cares for you, and for no one but you; her maid knows that for
true, and we say, between her and me, that you are the luckiest man in
this world--for you know what madame is.--Just perfection!
"She gets up at ten every morning; then she breakfasts. Well and good.
After that she takes an hour or so to dress; that carries her on till
two; then she goes for a walk in the Tuileries in the sight of all
men, and she is always in by four to be ready for you. She lives like
clockwork. She keeps no secrets from her maid, and Reine keeps nothing
from me, you may be sure. Reine can't if she would--along of my son,
for she is very sweet upon him. So, you see, if madame had any
intimacy with Monsieur Crevel, we should be bound to know it."
The Baron went upstairs again with a beaming countenance, convinced
that he was the only man in the world to that shameless slut, as
treacherous, but as lovely and as engaging as a siren.
Crevel and Marneffe had begun a second rubber at piquet. Crevel was
losing, as a man must who is not giving his thoughts to his game.
Marneffe, who knew the cause of the Mayor's absence of mind, took
unscrupulous advantage of it; he looked at the cards in reverse, and
discarded accordingly; thus, knowing his adversary's hand, he played
to beat him. The stake being a franc a point, he had already robbed
the Mayor of thirty francs when Hulot came in.
"Hey day!" said he, amazed to find no company. "Are you alone? Where
is everybody gone?"
"Your pleasant temper put them all to flight," said Crevel.
"No, it was my wife's cousin," replied Marneffe. "The ladies and
gentlemen supposed that Valerie and Henri might have something to say
to each other after three years' separation, and they very discreetly
retired.--If I had been in the room, I would have kept them; but then,
as it happens, it would have been a mistake, for Lisbeth, who always
comes down to make tea at half-past ten, was taken ill, and that upset
everything--"
"Then is Lisbeth really unwell?" asked Crevel in a fury.
"So I was told," replied Marneffe, with the heartless indifference of
a man to whom women have ceased to exist.
The Mayor looked at the clock; and, calculating the time, the Baron
seemed to have spent forty minutes in Lisbeth's rooms. Hector's
jubilant expression seriously incriminated Valerie, Lisbeth, and
himself.
"I have just seen her; she is in great pain, poor soul!" said the
Baron.
"Then the sufferings of others must afford you much joy, my friend,"
retorted Crevel with acrimony, "for you have come down with a face
that is positively beaming. Is Lisbeth likely to die? For your
daughter, they say, is her heiress. You are not like the same man. You
left this room looking like the Moor of Venice, and you come back with
the air of Saint-Preux!--I wish I could see Madame Marneffe's face at
this minute----"
"And pray, what do you mean by that?" said Marneffe to Crevel, packing
his cards and laying them down in front of him.
A light kindled in the eyes of this man, decrepit at the age of
forty-seven; a faint color flushed his flaccid cold cheeks, his
ill-furnished mouth was half open, and on his blackened lips a sort
of foam gathered, thick, and as white as chalk. This fury in such a
helpless wretch, whose life hung on a thread, and who in a duel would
risk nothing while Crevel had everything to lose, frightened the
Mayor.
"I said," repeated Crevel, "that I should like to see Madame
Marneffe's face. And with all the more reason since yours, at this
moment, is most unpleasant. On my honor, you are horribly ugly, my
dear Marneffe----"
"Do you know that you are very uncivil?"
"A man who has won thirty francs of me in forty-five minutes cannot
look handsome in my eyes."
"Ah, if you had but seen me seventeen years ago!" replied the clerk.
"You were so good-looking?" asked Crevel.
"That was my ruin; now, if I had been like you--I might be a mayor and
a peer."
"Yes," said Crevel, with a smile, "you have been too much in the wars;
and of the two forms of metal that may be earned by worshiping the god
of trade, you have taken the worse--the dross!" [This dialogue is
garnished with puns for which it is difficult to find any English
equivalent.] And Crevel roared with laughter. Though Marneffe could
take offence if his honor were in peril, he always took these rough
pleasantries in good part; they were the small coin of conversation
between him and Crevel.
"The daughters of Eve cost me dear, no doubt; but, by the powers!
'Short and sweet' is my motto."
"'Long and happy' is more to my mind," returned Crevel.
Madame Marneffe now came in; she saw that her husband was at cards
with Crevel, and only the Baron in the room besides; a mere glance at
the municipal dignitary showed her the frame of mind he was in, and
her line of conduct was at once decided on.
"Marneffe, my dear boy," said she, leaning on her husband's shoulder,
and passing her pretty fingers through his dingy gray hair, but
without succeeding in covering his bald head with it, "it is very late
for you; you ought to be in bed. To-morrow, you know, you must dose
yourself by the doctor's orders. Reine will give you your herb tea at
seven. If you wish to live, give up your game."
"We will pay it out up to five points," said Marneffe to Crevel.
"Very good--I have scored two," replied the Mayor.
"How long will it take you?"
"Ten minutes," said Marneffe.
"It is eleven o'clock," replied Valerie. "Really, Monsieur Crevel, one
might fancy you meant to kill my husband. Make haste, at any rate."
This double-barreled speech made Crevel and Hulot smile, and even
Marneffe himself. Valerie sat down to talk to Hector.
"You must leave, my dearest," said she in Hulot's ear. "Walk up and
down the Rue Vanneau, and come in again when you see Crevel go out."
"I would rather leave this room and go into your room through the
dressing-room door. You could tell Reine to let me in."
"Reine is upstairs attending to Lisbeth."
"Well, suppose then I go up to Lisbeth's rooms?"
Danger hemmed in Valerie on every side; she foresaw a discussion with
Crevel, and could not allow Hulot to be in her room, where he could
hear all that went on.--And the Brazilian was upstairs with Lisbeth.
"Really, you men, when you have a notion in your head, you would burn
a house down to get into it!" exclaimed she. "Lisbeth is not in a fit
state to admit you.--Are you afraid of catching cold in the street? Be
off there--or good-night."
"Good evening, gentlemen," said the Baron to the other two.
Hulot, when piqued in his old man's vanity, was bent on proving that
he could play the young man by waiting for the happy hour in the open
air, and he went away.
Marneffe bid his wife good-night, taking her hands with a semblance of
devotion. Valerie pressed her husband's hand with a significant
glance, conveying:
"Get rid of Crevel."
"Good-night, Crevel," said Marneffe. "I hope you will not stay long
with Valerie. Yes! I am jealous--a little late in the day, but it has
me hard and fast. I shall come back to see if you are gone."
"We have a little business to discuss, but I shall not stay long,"
said Crevel.
"Speak low.--What is it?" said Valerie, raising her voice, and looking
at him with a mingled expression of haughtiness and scorn.
Crevel, as he met this arrogant stare, though he was doing Valerie
important services, and had hoped to plume himself on the fact, was at
once reduced to submission.
"That Brazilian----" he began, but, overpowered by Valerie's fixed
look of contempt, he broke off.
"What of him?" said she.
"That cousin--"
"Is no cousin of mine," said she. "He is my cousin to the world and to
Monsieur Marneffe. And if he were my lover, it would be no concern of
yours. A tradesman who pays a woman to be revenged on another man, is,
in my opinion, beneath the man who pays her for love of her. You did
not care for me; all you saw in me was Monsieur Hulot's mistress. You
bought me as a man buys a pistol to kill his adversary. I wanted
bread--I accepted the bargain."
"But you have not carried it out," said Crevel, the tradesman once
more.