TRUE LOVE.
At sight of Blue Beard, in spite of himself, Croustillac blushed like a
schoolboy.
"I was very disagreeable yesterday, was I not?" said Angela to the
chevalier, with an enchanting smile. "I gave you a bad opinion of me
when I permitted Rendsoul to tell all kinds of tricks; but do not let us
speak of them any more. By the way, Youmaeale, the Caribbean, is here."
"I saw you from my window, madame," said the chevalier bitterly, while
he thought, "She has not the slightest shame. What a pity, with such an
adorable face. There, Croustillac, be firm!"
"Is Youmaeale not very handsome?" asked the widow with a triumphant air.
"Humph! he is handsome for a savage," returned the chevalier,
unwillingly; "but, now that we are alone, madame, explain to me how you
can in one day (do not be shocked by this question which circumstances
compel me to ask you), how you can in one day change your lover?"
"Oh, it is simple enough; one comes, the other goes; it is very simple."
"One comes, the other goes--it is very simple from this standpoint, but,
madame, nature and morality have laws!"
"All three love me truly, why should I not love all three?"
This answer was made with such perfect candor that the chevalier said to
himself, "It seems as if this unhappy woman must have been raised in
some desert or cavern. She has not the slightest idea of good and evil;
one would have to absolutely educate her." He said aloud, with some
embarrassment, "At the risk of being taken for an indiscreet and
wearisome person, madame, I would say that this morning, during your
walk with the Caribbean, I both saw and heard you. How is it that at a
sign from him you would dare, at the risk of poisoning yourself, lift to
your lips the deadly fruit of the poisonous apple?"
"If Youmaeale should say to me 'die' I should die," replied the widow.
"But the buccaneer, the filibuster--what would they say if you should
die for the Caribbean?"
"They would say I had done right."
"And if they demanded that you should die for them?"
"I would die for them."
"As you would for Youmaeale?"
"As for Youmaeale."
"Then you love the three equally?"
"Yes, because all three love me equally."
"She has a rooted idea and no one can dislodge it," thought the Gascon;
"I lose my trouble. Her accent is too frank to be assumed. It may be
that evil tongues have slandered a fraternal affection that this young
woman bears for these three bandits. Though the buccaneer gave me to
understand--after all, perhaps I misunderstood him and, as I am going to
leave her, I would much rather believe her more innocent than culpable;
although she does appear very hard to me to acquit." He went on: "A last
question, madame. What was the object of the atrocious tales that you
and the buccaneer related last night concerning two of your deceased
husbands--that one had died of laughter and the other been used as a
lamp, thanks to the intervention of Satan who always, according to the
same story, signs your marriage contract? You must feel, madame, that,
however polite I may be, it is extremely difficult for me to appear to
believe such follies as these."
"They are not follies."
"How--you wish me to believe----"
"Oh, you must believe them, and many other things, after you have
evidence of them," said the widow, with a peculiar tone.
"And when will you explain this mystery to me, madame?"
"When I tell you the price I place upon my hand."
"Ah, she is beginning to jest again," thought the Gascon. "I will appear
to be duped, in order to see what she will do; I wish she was far
away--that my stupid fancy were completely extinguished." Then aloud,
"Was it not to-day that you were to say what price you place upon your
hand, madame?"
"Yes."
"At what hour?"
"This evening, when the moon rises."
"Why not now, madame?"
"That is a secret you will know like others."
"And if I marry you, you will give me but one year to live?"
"Alas! only a year."
"Let me appear duped," said the Gascon to himself; and aloud, "Is it
your desire that my days should be so few?"
"No, no!" cried the widow.
"Then, personally, you do not dislike me?" said Croustillac.
At this question the face of Blue Beard changed entirely and her
expression became grave and thoughtful; she raised her head proudly, and
the chevalier was struck with the air of nobility and goodness which
overspread her face. "Listen to me," she said, with an affectionate and
protecting voice. "Because certain circumstances in my life oblige me to
a conduct often strange; because I perhaps abuse my liberty you must not
think I have a contempt for men of heart."
Croustillac looked at the widow with surprise. She was not the same
woman. She appeared like a woman of the world. He was so taken aback
that he could not speak.
Blue Beard continued: "You ask me if I hate you; we have not yet reached
the point where such sentiments, good or bad, can attain such extremity;
but I am far from hating you; you are certainly very vain, very
boastful, very arrogant----"
"Madame!"
"But you are good, brave, and you would be capable, I am sure, of a
generous devotion; you are poor, of obscure birth----"
"Madame, the name of Croustillac is as good as any other," cried the
chevalier, unable to vanquish the demon of pride.
The widow continued as if she had not heard the chevalier. "If you had
been born rich and powerful, you would have made a noble use of your
power and your wealth. Want has counseled you to more evil than she has
made you perform, for you have suffered and endured many privations----"
"But, madame----"
"Poverty finds you careless and resigned; fortune would have found you
prodigal and generous; in a word, what is of rare occurrence, you have
not been more hurt by poverty than you would have been by prosperity. If
the amount of your good qualities has not brought you much more than the
heedlessness of youth, this house would not have been open to you, be
certain of that, sir. If the proposition that I shall make you to-night
is not agreeable to you, I am sure, at least, that you will not carry
away a disagreeable remembrance of Blue Beard. Will you await me here?"
she said, smiling, "I am going to take a look at Youmaeale's breakfast,
for it is customary with the Caribbeans that the women alone take care
of this, and I wish, in that respect at least, that Youmaeale should feel
as if in his own cabin."
So saying, the widow left. This interview was, so to speak, a finishing
touch to the unhappy chevalier. Although the widow had shrewdly summed
up the character of Croustillac, she had expressed it in a manner full
of kindness, grace and dignity. She had, in fact, shown herself in a new
light, which overthrew all the Gascon's suppositions. The simple and
affectionate words of Angela, the sweet and noble look which accompanied
them, rendered Croustillac prouder and happier than he would have been
at the most extravagant compliments. He felt, with a mixture of joy and
fear, so completely and hopelessly in love with the widow that had she
been poor and friendless he would have been truly and generously devoted
to her--the most unmistakable symptom of true love.
The astounding presumption of the chevalier deserted him. He understood
how ridiculous the part he had played must appear; and, as the property
of true sentiment is always to make us better, more intelligent and more
sensible, in spite of the chaos of contradictions which surrounded
Angela's conduct, the chevalier discerned that these appearances must
hide a grave mystery; he also said to himself that the intimacy of Blue
Beard with her lovers, as she called them, covered, without doubt,
another secret, and that this young woman was, as a consequence,
slandered in a most unjust manner. He said, further, that the apparent
ease with which Angela assumed a frightful cynicism before a stranger
was not without some very pressing reason. In consequence of this
rehabilitation of Blue Beard in the mind of Croustillac, she became in
his eyes, completely innocent of the murder of her three husbands.
Finally, the adventurer began to believe, so much had love metamorphosed
him, that the solitary inmate of Devil's Cliff wished to mock him; and
he proposed to clear up his suspicions that same night, when the widow
should tell him the price she placed upon her hand.
One thing embarrassed Croustillac--how could the widow have informed
herself of his life so completely? But he remembered, with some
exceptions, that he had not made any mystery of the greater part of the
antecedents of his life on board the Unicorn, and that the business
manager of Blue Beard's affairs at St. Pierre might have discussed the
passengers with Captain Daniel. Finally, with a wisdom and good sense
which did credit to the new feeling which animated him, Croustillac put
these two cases to himself: Either Blue Beard wished to amuse herself,
and that night would say to him frankly, "Sir, you have been an
impertinent meddler; blinded by vanity, urged on by cupidity, you have
made a wager that you would become my husband in a month's time; I have
wished to torment you a little, and to play the ferocious part
accredited to me; the buccaneer, the filibuster, and the Caribbean are
my three servants in whom I have entire confidence; and as I live alone
in a very isolated locality, each of them comes by turn to watch at
night. Knowing the absurd stories afloat, I wished to amuse myself at
the expense of your credulity; this morning, even, I saw from the end of
the walk that you were spying upon me, and the comedy of the poisonous
apple was arranged with Youmaeale; as for the kiss he placed upon my
forehead"--here the chevalier was embarrassed for a moment as to how to
excuse this part of the role which he supposed played by the widow; but
he solved the question by saying to himself that, according to Caribbean
customs, this familiarity was, doubtless, not considered strange.
The chevalier felt that he must be satisfied with this explanation; and
to do him justice (a little late, in truth) he would renounce his mad
hopes, beg the widow to forget the conduct of which he had been guilty,
kiss her hand and ask her to furnish him with a guide, resume his poor
old garments, of faded green, and pink stockings, and return to a
happier fate which awaited him in the cabin of the Unicorn's worthy
captain.
If, on the contrary, the widow had serious views in regard to the
chevalier (which he found some difficulty in admitting to himself,
although he was not blind to his own merit), he would repay her with the
happiness of his life; he would charge himself personally with
protecting his wife, and banish the buccaneer to his trading-station,
the Caribbean to his hut, and the filibuster to his occupation; at
least, if the widow did not prefer to return with him to France to live
there.
We must say to the honor of poor Croustillac that he hardly dwelt upon
this last hope; he considered his first interpretation of the conduct of
the widow as much more probable. Finally, by a natural reaction, of mind
over matter, the triumphant boasting of the chevalier ceased at the same
time with his conceit. His face was no longer distorted by grotesque
vanity; for it expressed the better qualities of the
chevalier--resolution, courage--we would add loyalty, for it was
impossible to add more frankness to his conceit than was to be found in
the Gascon.
While the Chevalier de Croustillac waited with impatience the night of
this day which promised to be so fertile in developments, because Blue
Beard intended to signify her final intention, let us conduct the reader
to Fort Royal, at Martinique, the principal port of the island, where
the governor resided the greater portion of the time. There had
transpired a new incident which demands our immediate notice.
The shipyard at St. Pierre, where the Unicorn had touched, was intended
for the anchorage of merchant vessels, just as the shipyard at Fort
Royal was for ships-of-war.
About the same time that Youmaeale was walking with Blue Beard, the
lookout above the governor's house (at Fort Royal) signaled a French
frigate; the watch sent his assistant to inform the officer of artillery
commanding the battery at the fort, in order that he might fire a salute
(as was the custom) to the king's flag, (the custom being to fire a
salute of ten guns from all the ships-of-war when they came to anchor).
To the great surprise of the lookout who repented then of having
dispatched his assistant to the sergeant, he saw the frigate heave to,
outside the roadstead, and lower a boat; this boat was propelled through
the waves to the entrance of the port, while the frigate rode at anchor
and waited for it.
This proceeding was so strange that the lookout reported to the captain
of the Governor's Guards, and related to him what had occurred, to the
end that he could countermand the salute from the fort. This order
given, the captain went at once to inform the governor of this singular
evolution on the frigate's part.
An hour later, the boat belonging to the French ship arrived at Fort
Royal, and landed a person dressed like a man of some rank, who was
accompanied by the lieutenant of the frigate. They went at once to the
house of the governor, Baron de Rupinelle.
The officer gave a letter from the captain commanding the Fulminante to
the baron. His vessel was under orders to wait the result of the mission
with which Monsieur de Chemerant was charged, and to depart at once.
They had hastily taken on some fresh victuals and fresh water for the
men on board. The lieutenant went out to attend to matters pertaining to
reprovisioning the frigate, and Monsieur de Chemerant and the governor
were alone.
Monsieur de Chemerant was a man of from forty-five to fifty years, of a
dark olive complexion which gave to his sea-green eyes an added charm;
he wore a black peruke and a brown coat trimmed with gold braid. His
features were intellectual, his words few, his eye piercing; his mouth,
or rather his lips, were altogether too thin and compressed to ever
smile; if he occasionally gave vent to sarcasm upon what had happened,
his face became still more serious than usual. He had also very polished
manners and showed his familiarity with the best society. His courage,
discretion and coolness were such that Monsieur de Louvois had already
frequently employed him in missions of the greatest difficulty and
danger.
Monsieur de Chemerant afforded a striking contrast to the governor,
Baron de Rupinelle, a large and indolent man, having but one care, that
of keeping cool; his face was gross, purple and full; his eyes,
unusually round, gave him a look of perpetual surprise. The baron,
honest and brave, but a perfect nonentity, owed his position to the
powerful influence of the Colbert family to which he was related through
his mother.
In order to receive the lieutenant of the frigate, and Monsieur de
Chemerant with proper courtesy, the baron had removed, much to his
regret, a white cotton coat and a hat of Caribbean straw to put on an
enormous blond wig, squeeze into a coat of a kind of blue uniform
embroidered with gold braid, and buckled on a heavy shoulder-belt and
sword. The heat was intense, and the governor anathematized the
etiquette of which he was the victim.
"Sir," said De Chemerant, who seemed perfectly indifferent to this
tropical temperature, "can we speak without fear of being overheard?"
"There is no danger on that score, sir; this door opens into my study
where there is no one, and that one into the gallery which is also
unoccupied."
Monsieur de Chemerant arose, looked into the two places, and carefully
shut both doors.
"Pardon, sir," said the governor, "if we remain here with only two
windows open----"
"You are right, baron," said De Chemerant, interrupting the governor and
shutting the windows with equal care, "that is more prudent; we might be
heard from the outside."
"But, sir, if we remain without a current of air we shall suffocate
here. It will become a perfect oven."
"That which I have the honor to say to you, sir, will not take long; but
it concerns a state secret of the greatest importance, and the slightest
indiscretion may jeopardize the success of the mission which has been
confided to me by the king's command. You must accord me, then, the
privilege of shutting ourselves in here until the close of our
interview."
"If it is the king's orders, I must submit, sir," said De Rupinelle,
with a heavy sigh and wiping his forehead. "I am entirely at your
service."
"Be so good as to cast your eye upon my credentials from his majesty,"
said De Chemerant; and he took a paper from a little box which he bore
with great care and never intrusted to any one.