THE WORD OF THE MASTER
I
De Maurel stood waiting for her in the pillared hall. In accordance with
the custom which he himself had established during his last visits to
Courson, he was in uniform without his sword and mantle. Madame la
Marquise had already fully recovered her self-possession; her short
progress across the hall restored to her the full measure of her
habitual _sang-froid_. With a well-schooled smile upon her lips she came
forward eagerly to greet him.
"Ah! my dear Ronnay," she said, as she extended a gracious hand to him,
"this is indeed a surprise--none the less joyous as it was so wholly
unexpected. Indeed, we here at La Frontenay had come to believe that you
had wholly forgotten us."
He bowed low over the gracious hand, and even touched the finger-tips
with his lips.
"You look more bronzed than ever, M. le Maréchal," added Madame with an
arch smile, "and your numerous new dignities and the added gorgeousness
of your uniform will play sadder havoc than ever before in the hearts of
our impressionable young girls. You have come to pay me a long visit, I
hope. Come to my boudoir, my dear Ronnay, the room which your generosity
hath furnished with such lavish care for your old mother. We can talk
undisturbed there."
"Within a few moments, Madame," he said quietly, "I will be entirely at
your service. But, first of all, may I, with your gracious permission,
speak a few words with my overseer Leroux?"
The abruptness of the attack nearly caused Madame to lose countenance
then and there. Of a truth, the danger was more real and more immediate
than she had foreseen. For the space of a few brief seconds she debated
in her mind whether she would deny Leroux' presence in the house
altogether--feign ignorance of it, and risk an exposure which might
prove disastrous and certainly would be humiliating. It all depended on
how much Ronnay really knew. If he had actually seen Leroux entering the
château, denial would be positively fatal; if his attitude at this
moment only rested on surmise, then it might prove a good card to play.
Unfortunately time pressed, and she was forced to decide on a course of
action in the space of a few seconds while de Maurel kept dark,
inquiring eyes fixed composedly upon her face. In any case, a little
procrastination was imperative, and Madame, with a certain vague fear
gnawing at her heart-strings, at last contrived to say with a complacent
smile and an affectation of great surprise:
"Your overseer, my son? I do not understand.... Why should you seek your
overseer in this house?"
"Because I happen to have seen him enter it, half an hour ago," he
replied curtly, "in spite of my strict prohibition which I enjoined upon
him yesterday."
"He comes courting one of my maids, perhaps."
"Perhaps. But my prohibition is none the less binding on him. So with
your leave, Madame ..." he added, as he made a movement in the direction
of the door whence Madame la Marquise had just emerged in order to greet
him.
"My dear Ronnay," rejoined Madame, with all the haughtiness which she
could command, "I trust that you will not inflict a scene upon me here
in this house, which would be extremely unpleasant for us all. If you
wish to speak with your overseer, surely you can wait till he has
returned to your works. A factory or a workshop, or even the high road,
are fitter places for a wrangle with a refractory workman than in your
mother's private room."
"It is neither my fault nor my wish," retorted de Maurel dryly, "that a
refractory workman in my employ happens to be in my mother's private
room. Nor would I care to wait until the man chooses to return to his
duties in order to give him the trouncing which he deserves. I have no
time to waste in waiting on his good pleasure, and I specially desire to
speak with him here--in this house--and in your presence, Madame, an you
will grant me leave."
"In my presence!" exclaimed Madame, with a forced laugh which was
intended to hide an ever-increasing terror. "My dear Ronnay, meseems
that you have taken leave of your senses. What in the world have I got
to do with your overseer and with your quarrels with your men?"
"That is just what I desire to ascertain, Madame," rejoined de Maurel
quietly.
"Well, you cannot do it," said Madame testily, "either here or now. You
will not, I presume, have the effrontery of forcing your way into my
private apartments."
"Your presumption is correct, Madame. I would not for the world intrude
upon your privacy. But let me not, on the other hand, detain you here. I
can wait your gracious pleasure, until you deign to turn my overseer out
of your private apartments, and send him hither to speak with me."
For a moment Madame looked round her in hopeless bewilderment. The
situation had developed in a manner wherewith she was unable to cope.
For the first time in her life she would have given much to have someone
else's support or counsel in this crisis which she began seriously to
fear would culminate in disaster. But there was no one near to help her
out of her difficulty. Fernande had not left her room, M. de Courson
and Laurent were far away, and even old Matthieu had very discreetly
retired as soon as he saw Madame la Marquise in close conversation with
"M. le Maréchal."
There was silence in the vast pillared hall for a second or two while
these two equally firm wills stood up in bitter conflict one against the
other. There was never a doubt for a moment as to who would be forced to
yield. Madame even now felt like some bird whose strong wings were in
the hands of a ruthless tamer, who already was busy in clipping them.
She tried to brave that tamer or else to defy him; but he, armed with a
determination no less firm than her own and with a tenacity that nothing
could conquer, was waging a war of attrition, and was calmly biding his
time while Madame, torn between genuine fear and outraged dignity, was
seeking in vain for a means of extricating herself from this harrowing
position.
Ronnay de Maurel, in fact, was leaning against one of the marble pillars
of the hall with a smile round his firm lips which, had not the
situation been quite so tense, might almost have been interpreted as one
of keen, if somewhat grim, amusement, whilst Madame stood before him,
hot and defiant, her small foot tapping the ground in order to ease the
exacerbation of her nerves.
"Very well," she said abruptly, and she deliberately turned on her heel
and made for the door of the library, where Leroux no doubt was still
standing, quaking in his shoes like the miserable craven that he was.
"Very well! An you are determined to put this insult on your mother in
the presence of such an oaf, I can do naught to prevent you. Go and
speak with your overseer an you have a mind."
"And will you deign to be present at the interview, Madame?" he asked.
"If you wish it," she replied curtly.
Of a truth, she would not have trusted Leroux to speak alone with de
Maurel; the man was three parts a coward, and it was more than doubtful
whether under stress of fear he would remain true to his bargain with
de Puisaye; whilst the part of him that was base and criminal might lead
him to an attack of violence, which, whatever its results might be, was
certainly not within the scope of Madame's reckonings.
Therefore she chose to make a virtue of necessity and, walking rapidly
across the hall, she called curtly to de Maurel to follow her into the
library.
II
Leroux had assumed an air of jaunty defiance which the pallor of his
cheeks and the shifty looks in his eyes did more than belie. He had
recognized his employer's voice at the outset, and one or two words
spoken in Madame's somewhat shrill voice had prepared him, in a measure,
for the interview which he so frankly dreaded.
Like most cowards, Leroux himself would have been quite incapable of
saying definitely what it was that he was afraid of. He had oft
proclaimed it audibly that he would as soon be sent to Prussia or to New
Caledonia as to continue the life of honest work and of monotony which
his present conditional liberation entailed. He could not, therefore, be
afraid of a mere dismissal, whilst he was quite keen and shrewd enough
to know that de Maurel was not like to resort to physical violence
against him, and punishments, even degradation from his present
position, could not longer affect him, seeing that he was pledged to de
Puisaye and the Royalists.
It must be presumed, therefore, that Leroux' access of terror when his
employer suddenly appeared under the lintel of the door in the wake of
Madame la Marquise, was just due to the unpleasant physical sensation
which assails a dastard in the presence of a brave and loyal man. He was
standing close beside the window, and with his back to the door, and as
Madame and de Maurel entered, he turned round suddenly, with something
of a snarl like a savage creature trapped.
"M. de Maurel desired to speak with you, Leroux," Madame said, whilst
de Maurel closed the door behind him, "and I have allowed him to see you
in this house...."
"Where you had no right to be, as you know well, Leroux," interposed de
Maurel, speaking calmly and in measured tones. "I warned you yesterday
that I would look on any infraction of my commands as direct and wilful
disobedience."
Leroux shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, but he looked his
master squarely in the face.
"Orders such as those," he said, "are for the men in subsidiary
positions. I am chief overseer now--what? I come and go as I please and
where I please."
"I told M. de Maurel," broke in Madame hurriedly, "that I saw no
objection to your visiting my maid Marie, seeing that she is betrothed
to you. I have begged him to overlook your transgression this time, and
urged that your anxiety might excuse you. Marie is very ill," she
continued, turning to de Maurel, "and this unfortunate fellow forgot his
duty, I fear me, in his solicitude for the girl."
"A solicitude all the more remarkable, Madame," rejoined de Maurel with
a quaint laugh, partly of amusement and partly of impatience, "as Leroux
has already a wife of his own, whose faithful heart his many crimes have
oft wounded before now. I fear me that you must look upon me as a gaby
to unfold so specious a tale for my delectation. Nor--an you will
forgive me for saying it--are you serving the man's interests by
trumping up such hollow excuses for his disobedience."
"I come and go as I please, and where I please," reiterated Leroux
surlily.
"You are neither daft nor deaf," said de Maurel quietly. "You heard and
understood my orders yesterday."
"I am chief overseer now," retorted the man obstinately. "Such orders do
not apply to me."
"Every order which I give applies to every man in my employ. I told you
when first I returned and found you installed in a position, which I
knew you neither deserved nor were able to fill, that I would leave you
in it on probation only. I am now convinced that you are quite unfit to
rule over any of my men, seeing that you have no idea of discipline, of
obedience, or of truth."
"I am ready to leave your service," said Leroux with a muttered oath;
"'tis not a downy bed--what?--to sweat day after day over those accursed
mortars, with your life hanging by a thread all the time."
"You are not in my service, Leroux. You are primarily in the service of
the State, whose laws you have broken, and who has given you this means
of working out your punishment, by honest toil and loyalty to your
country, rather than as a convict in jail or New Caledonia. But for the
time being I am your employer. You eat my bread and owe loyalty and
obedience to me."
"Then send me packing," growled Leroux, "if you are not satisfied."
"That is exactly what I intend to do," rejoined de Maurel. "At the hour
when you chose flagrantly to disobey my orders you ceased to be my
overseer. Go back now at once to the factories and report yourself to
Mathurin, who will take over your duties at the close of the day. After
to-day you will take up your place once more, among the rank and file
and with the other workmen--the same place, in fact, which you occupied
before you proved yourself unworthy of the trust which M. Gaston de
Maurel reposed in you. Now you may go."
Already while de Maurel spoke, Leroux had slowly advanced toward him,
with a measured tread that in itself implied rebellion, and hands held
tightly clenched. Now he came to a halt as close to his master as he
dared; his eyes shot defiance and rage, his breath came with a hissing
sound through his set teeth.
"I'll not go," he said hoarsely, "I'll not. Curse you for your arrogance
and your blustering, dictatorial ways. I'll not go, do you hear?"
"Leroux!" exclaimed Madame firmly.
The man turned to look at her; his shifty eyes encountered the warning
glance wherewith she strove with all her might to enjoin outward
yielding and prudence to him.
"M. de Maurel is perhaps somewhat harsh, my good Leroux," she continued,
trying to put as much significance into her words as she dared; "but I
feel sure that on consideration you will decide that submission is
really the best in your own interests. Let me advise you to return to
the factory now and to think over quietly the events of the past hour. I
feel confident that by to-morrow you will have convinced M. de Maurel
that you are a man worthy of confidence and of trust."
The moment she began to speak, a change came over Leroux' attitude. He
had, indeed, forgotten for the time being and in the paroxysm of his
rage, that within a few hours he would hold the employer whom he hated
completely at his mercy--in the hollow of his grimy hand. Obviously--as
Madame said--it was in his interest to appear submissive now. He wanted
the next few hours to himself, to prepare the treacherous coup which was
to satisfy both his greed and his desire to be revenged upon the
execrated taskmaster. Any overt rebellion now might render his position
doubly difficult later in the day, while he still had the power to rally
his confederates around him. The advent of de Maurel upon the scene had,
of a truth, been more than unfortunate; but all was not yet lost.
He--Leroux--was still in possession of the Lodge, and, as far as he
knew, his degradation to the ranks was not to take effect until after
the close of day--not in any event till after he had been able to
concert with his mates. All these thoughts coursed swiftly through his
tortuous brain, and he contrived, after a moment or two of hesitation,
to throw a reassuring look to Madame la Marquise. Then he turned to de
Maurel, and said with an air of contrition and of shamefacedness:
"I was forgetting myself just now, was I not, M. le Maréchal? But even
Madame la Marquise has deigned to admit that you have been unduly harsh
with me. I have worked in your factories for over two years now; you
will not, I hope, degrade me before all my mates in any hurry."
"I will act as I think best, my man," rejoined de Maurel, unperturbed.
"You have wilfully placed yourself outside the pale of my consideration.
At the same time, you may rest assured that I did not condemn you behind
your back. Until I actually found you out in flagrant disobedience and
disloyalty I would not have made a change in the administration of the
factory. But anon at close of day all your mates will know that you have
once more become one of themselves. Now go," he added more harshly, "and
do not waste my time with further parleyings. When I return to the works
presently, let me hear from Mathurin that you are back at your work, and
that you are not trying by words or acts to incite the others to
discontent. Remember that I know how to punish, and that I mean to bring
back order and discipline in my works, if necessary at the cost of
utmost rigour."
He pointed to the door with an authoritative gesture, and Leroux, no
longer hesitating--eager, perhaps, to get out of the presence of his
master--shuffled across the room. Madame was able to throw him a last,
warning look, to which he responded by a significant nod of the head.
Whether de Maurel actually saw either of these two signs, or whether his
suspicions had been aroused during the interview, it were difficult to
say. Certain it is that Leroux had already opened the door and was
stepping across the threshold, when a peremptory "Stay!" from de Maurel
brought him to a halt. He remained standing under the lintel, his hand
upon the door and glancing back over his shoulder at Ronnay.
"What is it now?" he queried sullenly.
"You will vacate the Lodge at close of day, of course," said de Maurel
curtly.
"Vacate the Lodge?" muttered Leroux. "I cannot vacate the Lodge all in a
moment like that. What should I do with my clothes? Where should I
sleep to-night?"
"In the compound," replied de Maurel dryly, "and you can collect your
effects in an hour."
"It is like turning a dog out of his kennel," retorted Leroux with a
snarl. "And who is to sleep at the Lodge to-night? Mathurin cannot leave
the foundries. There are fifty thousand barrels of powder stacked in the
shed behind the Lodge ... and fifty men working overtime to-night. Who
is going to look after them? Who is going to see that the fifty thousand
barrels of gunpowder are not blown into kingdom come through the
carelessness of one of them?"
"Surely not you," rejoined de Maurel quietly, "whose disobedience is
only equalled by your criminal carelessness. Yesterday, after closing
hours, I found the side gate open and unguarded."
"Carelessness is not a crime," riposted Leroux in a more conciliatory
tone. "We are all worked to death at the factory like galley-slaves ...
I more than the rest.... I forgot to see to the side gate--what? It is
not a crime. If I am to be turned out of my bed like a cur," he
reiterated sullenly, "who, I should like to know, is going to sleep in
it to-night?"
"I am," replied de Maurel simply.
"You!"
The word came simultaneously from two pairs of lips. Madame had spoken
it instinctively, just as--instinctively--she had risen to her feet, and
Leroux had uttered it hoarsely and raucously, as he suddenly turned on
his heel, and once more faced the master whom he hated and feared.
"You?" he reiterated in an indefinable tone of incredulity, of rage and
of terror.
"I spoke plainly enough," rejoined de Maurel unmoved. "Did you perchance
think that I was jesting?"
For a moment or two the man was silent. He stood immovable and quite
close to de Maurel, the while his shifty gaze tried to probe in the
other's dark eyes what lay hidden within their depths. And Ronnay, from
his great height, looked down on the coarse and evil face which was
turned up to his; he, too, was trying to fathom all that was going on
behind that narrow, receding forehead and behind the pale, protruding
eyes, with their flaccid lids and lines around them of recklessness and
dissipation. For that brief moment there was deadly silence in the room,
silence through which the crackling of Madame's silk dress could
distinctly be heard, as she was quivering from head to foot.
Then Leroux, challenged by de Maurel's fixed gaze, replied slowly:
"No!"
"Then see that the Lodge is vacated by ten o'clock this evening.
Overtime work must be finished by then, and you can hand me over all
your keys ere you go back to the compound."
It seemed as if Leroux meant to say something; once or twice he even
opened his mouth, as if the words were about to tumble out of it; but
every time that he looked up, he encountered de Maurel's gaze fixed
quite steadily upon him, and after a while no doubt he realized that for
the moment, at any rate, he was sorely at a disadvantage. So he
contented himself with muttering a curse and a threat, after which he
turned rapidly on his heel, and with a few quick steps he stalked out of
the room, slamming the door behind him.
III
Madame had not moved since the moment when de Maurel's announcement that
he intended to sleep at the Lodge that night had so completely staggered
her that she felt momentarily dazed and quite unable to think. For a
second or two it seemed to her as if her heart had completely ceased to
beat, as if her body alone had remained sitting in the room there, while
her spirit had fled on the wings of a nameless terror.
Ronnay de Maurel at the Lodge that night! What did that mean? How much
did he know? What did he suspect? These were questions which went
hammering through her brain while Leroux was finally cowed and
dismissed. Now that she was once more alone with her son, it was
obviously of the most vital importance that nothing in her attitude
should betray the agitation which she felt. She had to make an almost
superhuman effort to recover herself, to rise from her chair, and to
steady her knees which were shaking under her. But all this she did, and
even succeeded in saying, with every appearance of unconcern:
"I do think, my dear Ronnay, that you were unnecessarily harsh with the
man. He is not a sympathetic personality I own, and, of course, he did
very wrong in disobeying you; but now that we are alone, let me assure
you that it is indeed my maid Marie whom he has been visiting of late.
He knew that he had done wrong; your allusion to his own wife roused his
surly temper, and undoubtedly he forgot himself. And now," she added
glibly, "shall we forget this unpleasant incident? Fernande is in the
garden. Shall we join her?"
"I thank you, Madame," he replied coldly, "but I must return home as
soon as possible. My uncle cannot bear me out of his sight for very
long, and there are many matters I must attend to before nightfall. An
you will allow me to pay you my respects another time...."
"'Tis not much respect you have paid me to-day, my good Ronnay,"
rejoined Madame, who, indeed, by now was once again completely mistress
of herself. "Why you should have dragged me into your quarrel with that
creature I cannot imagine, and I ought to deal very severely with you
for this want of consideration for me."
"I am sorry to have offended you, Madame, and fear me that I must do so
again ere I go."
"'Twere not wise to do that, Ronnay," she retorted haughtily; "even a
mother's indulgence hath its limits."
"I trust that I shall not be overstepping them, Madame, when I request
you in all earnestness to refrain in future from any intercourse with my
workpeople."
"Are you afraid that I might succeed in imbuing them with a spirit of
loyalty to their King?"
"Whatever my motive, Madame, I earnestly pray you to follow my behests."
"You mean, your commands?"
"We'll call them that an you wish," he replied slowly.
"You forbid me to speak to your workpeople?"
"Absolutely."
"You are not over confident of their loyalty," she said, with a sardonic
little laugh.
He made no reply. Madame's searching gaze was fixed upon him; she would
have given worlds to divine his thoughts. On the whole, she felt
reassured that he knew nothing of the vital issues which centred round
the powder factory to-night. She was pretty certain that Leroux would
try to see her again to-day--he had probably not left the château, and
was waiting his opportunity to have speech with her as soon as de Maurel
had gone. Something would have to be devised, something thought of, to
meet the unlooked-for eventuality of de Maurel's presence at the factory
to-night. But for this Madame required solitude and a calm view of the
new situation. For the moment she was supremely conscious of the desire
to be alone. Ronnay's presence now jarred well nigh unbearably on her
nerves; the calm way in which he regarded her and dictated his will to
her, with a certainty that she would obey, irritated her past endurance.
She turned away from him, for she did not choose to let him see how
maddened she was, how thoroughly shaken was her usual haughty placidity.
She walked deliberately to the window and turned her back on him, her
aristocratic fingers beating a devil's tattoo against the panes.
"I'd best go now," suggested de Maurel, after a while, in that same
awkward manner of his which seemed only to have dropped from him when
he was dealing with Leroux.
"You are in your own house, my good Ronnay," rejoined Madame coldly, and
without turning to look at him; "you have a perfect right to come and go
as you please."
"Then am I your obedient servant," he said placidly.
Madame, from where she stood, could feel that his whole attitude was one
of complete detachment. Her wrath and her scorn had no more effect on
him than Leroux' threats of a while ago. She knew instinctively that he
bowed and took his leave in that clumsy manner which she abhorred. Then
she heard him moving across the room, opening the door, and finally
shutting it behind him.
Even then she did not turn round. She remained standing beside the
window, gazing out into the distance--seeing nothing and yet still
gazing--her mind fixed upon the one great, all-absorbing puzzle. What
was to happen to-night? She never moved, while her ears caught the sound
of that firm, dragging step as it slowly died away in the distance.
Then, when even its echo had ceased to reverberate through the silent
house, she caught at the heavy curtain beside her, for suddenly in her
whole body there was a relaxing of the tension on her nerves, and for
the first time in her life Madame de Mortain felt ready to swoon. But
even when she was all alone she would have scorned an unnecessary
exhibition of weakness. A few seconds sufficed her to regain her
self-control. She turned away from the window at last and sat down
beside the heavy desk whereat she had so often penned enthusiastic
reports to the Royalist agents. She drew pen and ink closer to her and
sat thinking for a while. She had a mind to send a letter to de
Puisaye--a runner might be found quick and clever enough to deliver it
into the hands of the Chouan leader in the Cerf-Volant woods and to
bring back his answer before nightfall.
In any case, before she wrote Madame was bent on seeing Leroux again.
Leroux alone, she thought, would be able to cope with the situation as
it now presented itself. Leroux was a man of resource, as his
correspondence with Madame over the wall of the exercising ground had
proved. He was not greatly troubled with scruples, and though he was by
nature a coward, his temper, when roused, was apt to be both defiant and
ugly.
Moreover, he was wilful, and would know how to act without any very
explicit instructions, which Madame, in the absence of the chiefs, was
not prepared to give him.
She put down her pen again, and pushing her chair away from the table,
she rose with an impatient, nervy little sigh. Despite the warmth of
this June afternoon she shivered, almost as if she felt cold.
Somewhere in the château a distant clock struck six.