The three individuals, to whom Madame de Guéran had written on the
previous evening, were punctual in obeying her summon, and they were
received by their hostess, not in the geographical boudoir which has
already been described, but in a drawing-room furnished with equal
luxury.
After tea, or at very nearly ten o'clock, the Baroness de Guéran,
after having been for some time under the influence of very powerful
emotion, suddenly roused herself, and, looking her guests full in the
face, said—
"And so, gentlemen, you love me?"
Astonished at theis very matter-of-fact plunge, and off their guard
by reason of so utterly unforseen an attack, neither of the three
knew exactly which way to look, and when one of them, gifted with
more hardihood than his companions, was on the point of speaking,
Madame de Guéran motioned him to be silent, and went on herself to
say—
"In saying that you love me, gentlemen, I am really only expressing
my opinion that you are men of honour, incapable of harbouring the
idea of marrying any woman for whom you do not entertain a sincere
affection. Now, you have, all three of you, proposed to me—none of
you will deny that, I presume. You, M. de Morin," she continued,
turning towards a tall young man of about thirty-five, whose mien and
dress were alike irreproachable, "you have sent to me, in the
capacity of ambassadress, your aunt, Madame de Genevray, whom I
esteem highly. You, M. Périères, have written to me; and as for you,
M. Desrioux, you have spoken outright. There cannot, therefore, be
any doubt on the score of your proposals."
MM. de Morin, Périères and Desrioux, thus appealed to, after
exchanging a triangular smile of amusement, bowed their assent, and
Madame de Guéran resumed her address—
"I am deeply sensible, I can assure you, gentlemen, of the honour
which you have done me. No protestations, pray! I am speaking in all
seriousness, and I beg that I may be heard in the same spirit. I
repeat, I am deeply grateful for the regard, at once respectful and
affectionate, which you profess for me. But, if you will pardon me so
far, I am at a loss to discover a sufficient reason for such a
feeling. Why, you scarcely know me, even as an acquaintance."
Simultaneous protests rose to the lips of the trio, but the Baroness
would not give them time to utter a word.
"I have a title," she continued, "and a fortune; I am a widow, and
sufficiently well-connected to have the _entrée_, should I so wish,
into the best society in Paris; I am barely five-and-twenty years of
age, and I am passably good-looking. That, gentlemen, sums up your
knowledge of me, every atom of it. It has now become essential that
you should know more, and I take it upon myself to enlighten you."
Having brought this exordium to a conclusion, she rose and approached
the tea-table, once more to resume her duties as hostess. But, when
the wants of her guests had been attended to, she again, still
smiling in her own fascinating manner, resumed her seat on the sofa,
and the thread of her discourse.
"My accent, be it ever so slight," she began, "will have told you
before this that, if I speak your language as well as you do, I
cannot claim your beloved Paris as my birth-place. Indeed, I am an
Englishwoman, but I was educated by a French governess. I was married
when I was twenty, and since then I have lived uninterruptedly in
France. My father, after having passed half his life in exploring the
remote parts of Africa, and after having recorded, in connection with
them, much valuable information and deep research, one day, when no
other course was open to him, made up his mind to betake himself to a
quiet life in the bosom of his family. But he could never divest
himself of his great interest in those questions which he had, for so
long a time, made his study, and up to the day of his death he was
one of the most valuable and valued members of the Royal Geographical
Society of London. In our drawing-room at home—we lived in London—I
have seen, from time to time, most of the celebrated travellers of
our age. I remember distinctly having been nursed, when I was quite a
little girl, by Overweg and Speke; and I have an equally vivid
recollection of having been kissed by Richardson, on his departure
for the Soudan, as well as of the tears I shed when we heard the
report of his death, which we refused to credit until it received its
sad confirmation from the lips of Barth. I knew Edward Vögel, who was
treacherously murdered in the Waday territory, Schweinfurth, Baker,
Brun-Rollet, and as many more, whose names I cannot recall at this
moment, but whom I shall ever hold in remembrance. My father,
cosmopolitan rather than English, held our insular prejudices in but
slight esteem, and so it happened that, after dinner, instead of
receiving a hint to retire, I was permitted to remain in the society
of his friends. All the great scientific questions which have stirred
the world during the last ten years, have been discussed in my
presence by the men best qualified to elucidate them.
"Science, however, was not the unvarying topic of conversation.
Slavery, that hideous plague-spot of Africa, and the slave-trade,
which still continues in unimpaired activity, frequently occupied the
attention, and roused the indignation of our guests. Even now I can
call to mind the words of Livingstone one evening, 'Whilst we are
sitting here, in ease and pleasure, and surrounded with every
comfort, long caravans of slaves are wending their toilsome way
towards the markets of Khartoum, Zanzibar, and Timbuctoo. Yoked like
oxen, or fastened to a long cord which drags them along in huddled
groups, male and female, old and young, they plod along under that
burning sun, naked, worn out with fatigue, dying by inches of hunger
and thirst. And then, to think that these poor creatures are only an
infinitesimal fraction of the victims of the slave-trade! In the man-hunts
organised in those accursed countries, thousands die of their
wounds or find a last resting-place in the woods whither they have
fled for concealment. Yes—corpses and skeletons are the landmarks in
the way of the desert.'
"Trembling with indignation I used to drink in every word of these
conversations, and I could not but admire, from the very depth of my
soul, those men, who, free to live a life of wealth and honour in
their own land, yet chose to pass their existence in deadly climes,
facing all dangers, bearing every ill, that they might lend a helping
hand to the progress of science, and interest the world in the sacred
cause of the victims of oppression."
Here Madame de Guéran paused to sip her tea, whilst her hearers,
completely under the charm of her winning eloquence and moving tones,
kept an almost religious silence. They were learning, and for the
first time, to know her. Living in the world of Paris, they had
recognised in her a woman distinguished for her intelligence, her
beauty, and her manner, and they had fallen in love with her,
attracted by the refinement of her features, the grace of her smile,
and the vivacity of her wit. But now, all suddenly, that countenance
was resplendent with a novel brilliancy, those eyes shone with
renewed light, the mind unfolded itself with unexpected rapidity, and
the heart was beating with a sympathy which made itself felt.
"It will scarcely astonish you," resumed the Baroness, in a calmer
voice, "to learn that I, brought up, as I have been, amongst the men
whom I have mentioned to you, have become a sharer both in their
ideas and their enthusiasm. Neither will it surprise you, I am sure,
that I should have given my love to one of my father's most frequent
guests. The Baron de Guéran was a Frenchman, and was descended from
that fearless René Caillet, the first European who attempted the
perilous journey from Sierra-Leone to Tangier, and, it may be,
effected an entrance into Timbuctoo. Although he had not reached his
thirtieth year when I saw him for the first time, M. de Guéran had
already journeyed in central Africa, and had there made some
important discoveries. If his name is not familiar to you as a
geographer or an explorer, it is simply because he would not publish
any of his notes until all were complete. Alas! he has not been able
to finish his work.
"My father raised many objections to my union with the Baron. As a
colleague, he both loved and esteemed him—as a son-in-law he had his
doubts. So soon as I had to enter into his calculations, his
admiration for travels and travellers cooled down considerably. He
was never tired of saying to me—'Take care; the love of remote
exploration and discovery—I speak from experience—absorbs all other
love, and would make the best of men utterly oblivious of his family
duties. Be not too confident; your husband, whilst adoring you, may
still accustom himself to worship you from a distance. You will be
proud to belong to him, but you will rarely be happy at his side, for
your life will wear away in fear and apprehension.' And then I would
reply—'Have no fear; I will answer for M. de Guéran.' 'What? You
imagine that he will sacrifice all his ideas for your sake, and will
live ever by your side?' 'Nothing of the sort, my dear father; I
should not wish it for a moment, but I will go with him. I am
determined to share all his dangers, and I will say to him, as our
friend Lady Baker did to her husband—whither thou goest I will go;
where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried.'
"However, he had to give way and consent to the marriage, and I came
to reside in Paris with M. de Guéran. For two years the fears of my
father appeared groundless; the Baron did not seem to be troubled
with any desire to travel. He wandered in Elysian fields only, and I
was only too happy in wandering there with him. The awakening was
terrible. 'I am off to Africa,' said he to me one day. For two years
I had forgotten Africa, the slave-trade, slavery, science, everything
but love. And you might well suppose that, starting up thus suddenly,
as it were, out of my sleep, I called to mind, and whispered in the
ear of my husband Lady Baker's, or, to speak more correctly, Ruth's
touching words. Nothing of the kind! Thenceforth, I had but one
thought—and that was to preserve my mode of life unaltered, not to
risk my happiness in any one way, to leave nothing to chance or
contingency. I devoted all my energy to the task of trying to
persuade M. de Guéran that the tribes of Africa had no claim
whatsoever on him, that the Geographical Society could well dispense
with any information from him, and that science would still march
onward without his aid. My efforts were unavailing, and I failed to
convince him, so that, taking advantage of my absence in England on a
visit, he rushed off to Marseilles, and embarked without even letting
me know the exact destination of his fresh expedition. 'You would be
wanting to follow me,' he wrote. 'I cannot take advantage of your
devotion; but, take courage, my absence will be of but short
duration.' At first, I waited, for where was I to go? And I always
hoped that he would not delay his return, but would keep his promise
to me. Tired of waiting, at last I made up my mind to start, when the
French Consul, at Cairo, sent me word that the Baron de Guéran was
dead.
"Such has been my life. Gentlemen, you know me now, and, doubtless,
you have come to the conclusion that I have devoted too much time to
myself. Let me relieve your minds by telling you that, what more I
have to say refers solely to you. Let me give you all another cup of
tea, and then I will commence my peroration."