Kitabı oku: «The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Volume 1 of 3», sayfa 6
"Would you usurp my functions?" whispered the abbé in mischief.
The marquise pushed him from her with a strength wrung from indignation. "For the sake of all of us, go for a time," she murmured. "In the name of honest womanhood and vain regret-go! that this folly may be forgotten. I will try to forget. Go! and I swear to you that no word of it shall pass my lips."
"How little you know me," scoffed the abbé, disdaining for the time to press her further. "Have you not learnt yet, that what I will is done? Awake the pig there, and ask if it is not so. What I have resolved upon, I do. You are mine-all mine-whether you like it or not; now or a little later!"
"Then I must seek refuge with my husband."
"If you accuse me, he will not believe you. The influence over him that you awkwardly threw away, I gained. How ill you've played your cards, most charming woman! He is a weak man who must be led by some one-it might have been by you. Come, say the word, and you shall lead him yet; or, rather, we will together."
Gabrielle looked again into the abbé's face (which was so terribly close to hers), then at that of his sleeping brother, who had turned in uneasy slumber. How could she have been deceived so long? Sensuality on both masks-the one, gross and altogether earthy; the other, marked by flashes of sly eyes and twists of thin lips that were not well to look upon, for that second mask was transparent, and the devil was peering through.
"I will give you time to think," proceeded the abbé, "since, though the moment is propitious, you are not in the mood for wooing. Here is a rebus. Your fate is in my hand, yet in your own. According as you decide, you will find in me the most devoted servant or the most implacable enemy. The love of us southerners is not far removed from hate. According as you act, you may bask in its beams or be scorched into a cinder; hence it is to be feared and respected."
Pressing so close to her that she could feel the pulsations of his breast, he added in low accents that cut into her heart like steel, "Be well advised, and comprehend the truth. Your life hangs in the balance for happiness or misery. Consider, and choose wisely, for this is the critical time on which your fate depends."
Then, opening the door with a bow whose distinction would have done honour to Trianon, he stood aside to let the lady pass into her bedchamber. Closing the door again, he knit his brows and bit his nails while contemplating the sleeping chevalier. "A trifle premature, that's all," he muttered; "no harm done, for all her sweeping pride. Well-meaning, vacillating women are like satin-skinned horses in the arena-all the better for a touch of the lash. It is written, my mission is to teach her love, and I will do it thoroughly from my own point of view-of course. She is inexperienced, and proud, and empty. If the fruit's not ripe, I've time to wait for it to mellow. Perhaps, who knows? I may, should she be restive, be forced to crush her pride. A pity! for it would be a charm removed. Perchance I shall only squeeze firmly, without crushing it. The snaring of a bird that is shy, whose plumage must not be injured! Shall it be tamed by kindness, or the reverse? A problem, this, that Time's slow fingers must unravel. The key to it is patience-most valuable of virtues!" He stood long, pondering as he surveyed his sleeping brother. It was as if he sought some luminous answer in those puffed and stolid features.
Next morning, Gabrielle appeared at déjeuner with pallid cheeks and red eyes, under whose lids there glinted a ray of apprehension. That Clovis's two half-brothers should both have developed, without encouragement, so ill-omened a passion! What had the future in store for a helpless woman as the upshot of so perilous a dilemma? Was it not, after all, an ugly dream-a hideous nightmare born of Erebus, that had been routed by healthful morning? Having eaten his fill, Clovis was placidly sipping claret, and forming a mimic tub out of bread-crusts. The round visage of the chevalier was as expressionless as usual.
Upon the entrance of the chatelaine, the abbé had risen to close the door with nimblest alacrity and deftest grace, and had led her to the table with ceremoniously respectful finger-tips. The evil expression was gone. Glancing nervously at him, she saw nothing but a polished bonhomie veneered with distant and deferential kindliness. He deplored her looks with ready grief, but added, for consolation, that a washed rose revives in sunshine, and becomes more fragrant for the shower.
"She mopes for lack of proper exercise," he exclaimed, with a gentle headshake of reproach. "Let us make a little party, and make a raid on Montbazon."
Clovis, busy with the bread-crusts, remarked somewhat tartly that he was much occupied, as they ought all to know; that the others had better go without him; whereupon Gabrielle turned pale. Ride with the two brothers, whose overweening and importunate affection she had so recently repulsed!
"I vow," cried facetious Pharamond, "that our Gabrielle is growing delicate. She who was wont to be active objects to exercise. Decidedly, my Clovis, we must set the miraculous tub agoing for the benefit of your delightful wife."
CHAPTER VIII.
A NEW ARRIVAL
Our dear marquise-as you have realised ere this-satisfied the desire of the eye in all ways, for, combined with beauty of feature and of colour, was the suave sweetness of expression that is bred of the domestic virtues. Had she been an abbess the odour of her sanctity would have penetrated down to us in many a miraculous legend, and her carved simulacrum would have stood in many a niche and sculptured frieze along with those of other privileged young ladies. But she could not guide a husband who needed a bridle rein, neither could she decipher rebuses. The eccentric conduct of the versatile and too inflammable abbé completely mystified her. Why had he in the firelight resembled a satyr, to become in the morning so meek, and mild, and saint-like? Perhaps her prayers had been answered and, seeing the error of his ways, he had repented ere it was too late. It is disconcerting when an amorous and fervid swain inflicts burning kisses on your skin, and next day forgets the transgression. In the case of Pharamond a marvel must have been worked, for never by wink of eyelid did he attempt to recall his untoward proceedings during the storm. The episode was washed clean away by the snowdrift. He was alert, and lively, and amiable, as heretofore; always active in performing little services, inventing some new comfort or pleasure, rallying the dull, sympathizing with the weary. He knew better than to sit glum and mumchance like the chevalier. Betrayed into error, he had accepted rebuff like a gentleman, and by a marked increase of respect was trying to win forgiveness. This was quite as it should be, and there was no more to be said. And so, the clouds that threatened being dissipated, the months of winter rolled away in so uniform a sequence that their glassy flow seemed as if it must run for ever.
The marquis, influenced probably by his repentant brother, was amiable enough. The two talked Mesmer all day long; formed plans for mutual assistance: held lengthy conferences in the study, which always had, now the satisfying result of improving Clovis's temper. The first primrose had just emerged from its bed when the abbé announced one day the portentous fact that the marquis was packing his valise.
"Packing his valise! Tired of the dulness of Lorge?" Gabrielle felt a tinge of sadness at the thought. Why not have let things be? If there was to be a change, would it be for better or worse?
"How silly you are!" observed Clovis, cheerfully, remarking her wistful look. "Are we limpets glued to a rock? I am about to make a little journey, quite a short one-the effect of which in the future may transfigure the countenance of earth."
"You will not be absent long?" inquired the marquise, in a reproachful tone.
"A couple of weeks at most. The fact is, that I am going to Spa, and hope to bring back with me the assistant, without whom I can advance no further."
"You said you did not object," murmured Pharamond, softly.
"Object? Certainly not. I said so long ago."
Clovis frowned. He did not like to be reminded of dependence just as he was about to use his liberty.
"I have a hundred questions to ask, which must be answered by word of mouth, and shall bring back such a budget of testimony as shall surprise even you into belief. The country is distressingly quiet and monotonous. You are not afraid, I suppose, to await my return under the joint protection of my brothers?"
The abbé was innocently contemplating the tapestry opposite with rapt interest; the chevalier was examining the floor. If the husband had only known-how whimsical a question! Gabrielle glanced at one, then at the other, with a tiny twinge of misgiving, which speedily gave way to confidence, and replied simply-
"Oh, no; I am afraid of neither. Even if they attempted to do me harm, and why should they? have I not Toinon at hand, and her no less devoted lover?"
"Harm! From us!" echoed Pharamond, vastly tickled. "Phebus is an ogre with great teeth and one blear eye, whilst I am the original Croquemitaine, devourer of white-fleshed maidens."
"I have said I am not afraid of you," remarked the marquise, demurely.
"Jean Boulot, the devoted lover!" continued the playful abbé. "More danger in his little finger, I warrant, than in both our bodies. While you are absent, Clovis, I've half a mind to divert myself with pretty Toinon; but, alas! I am in terror of her big surly bear. A brawny malcontent! Only the other day I heard him deliver an address under the village tree-such a compound of fire and brimstone-and I suppose my smile was not respectful; for, catching my eye, he directed his abuse at me, and poured forth such a scurrilous diatribe against our class that I was glad enough to escape. Like everyone else, however, he respects Gabrielle, and when he becomes aggressive, she shall shield us from his wrath!"
The marquise was relieved, for this was a delicate way of hinting that there was to be no recurrence of that scene. Why should she mind being left with the brothers? Clovis, who did not shine as a protector, might depart on his mission with a light heart, to return as soon as possible wreathed with the laurels of success.
He went, and the household, after the small excitement of the unimportant incident, returned to its monotony of peace. The brothers treated their chatelaine with such an increase of punctilio and ceremony as should perforce stop the idle gossip of provincial busybodies. Even shrewd Toinon, who was of an unbelieving turn, and never quite satisfied with regard to the honeyed churchman, looked on the situation with approval.
The marquis had been absent three weeks when a messenger arrived with a missive directed to the abbé. Gabrielle was in the moat garden superintending the chevalier, who was occupied in the watering of plants. Toinon was there, too, looking after Jean Boulot, as was her duty, while he clipped and trimmed the hedges, with the prodigies hanging to his coat-tails. The group made a charming picture of rural bliss, such as it makes good the heart to look upon. Through the postern-door leisurely emerged the abbé, gazing at a paper as he descended the grassy slope with a scowl of genuine annoyance.
"What is it?" cried Gabrielle, turning pale. "Nothing wrong with Clovis?"
"Everything wrong with Clovis," retorted Pharamond, testily. "He must have lost his wits to be capable of such a proceeding."
"He is well?"
"Oh, yes; he is well."
"Then all is well."
"Is it? That remains to be shown. He will be home to-morrow at supper time."
"Then all is well, indeed. The best of news!"
Delighted as she was, a pang shot through the heart of the marquise, in that the absent one had elected to communicate with his brother rather than his wife.
"Do you know?" she remarked with a smile, "that I am quite jealous. He ought to have written to me."
"I suppose he had the decency to be ashamed, and so left it to me to smooth the way for him. There is something here which I doubt your liking. It was wrong-very, very wrong-not to have first consulted you."
"What is it? Let me know, without all this parley. You torture me!"
"Well, the prodigal returns to-morrow-but not alone."
"I know that. He had full permission to hire an assistant. Are there more? He is welcome to bring his friends."
"A female friend?"
"A woman!" ejaculated Gabrielle, dropping her garden scissors, while Toinon stared, round-eyed.
"A woman!" echoed Pharamond, moved to real anger. "Was there ever anything so ridiculous! a woman picked up at Spa!"
"What can she want here?' inquired Toinon.
"A protégée, it appears, of that infernal prophet," grumbled the abbé. "Listen to what he says: 'Gabrielle will be charmed,' he writes (double distilled blockhead), 'when she understands it all, for by a most lucky chance, the presence of Mademoiselle Brunelle will serve a double purpose. She is an adept of the first class, educated under the eye of Mesmer himself, instructed in all the intricacies of animal magnetism, and has, moreover, successfully followed the avocation of governess. The dear children have outgrown the reach of my wife's teaching, and Mademoiselle Brunelle can henceforth superintend their studies.'"
Pharamond looked dubiously at his sister-in-law, who flushed red, then paled. His annoyance was more than justified, for it was outrageous to engage a resident governess without consulting the wife and mother. And yet it might be for the best. The dear prodigies knew all that poor Gabrielle could teach them, and in this remote spot it was difficult without great expense to procure masters from Blois or Tours. Clovis had been enabled to see and interview a lady, which was better than taking her on trust by letter. The mother should have been consulted, though, before entering on a definite engagement.
Toinon's indignation broke forth.
"Well, I'm sure," she sniffed, "what next. Stray women are to be brought into the house without madame's sanction. If I were she, I'd dispatch our Jean to bar the way, and forbid the baggage to approach. Such impudence!"
In curbing the maid's zeal, Gabrielle convinced herself. The marquis was master, and his will was law. He had been most wise and far-seeing in thinking of the dear children's welfare. He had thought more of them than she, who had twitted him with indifference. He had done well, as always, and Toinon would perhaps be kind enough to stifle her impertinence.
Toinon screwed up her lips, and muttered between her teeth, "Madame is a saint too good for earth. She may endure the insult patiently, but I shall hate the horrid woman from the very instant she arrives!"
It was evening when the wheels of the marquis's coach were heard grinding on the gravel, and amid the din of servants moving trunks and bundles, Gabrielle, who waited in the salon, was aware of a deep, strong voice rapping out sharp orders like a rattle of artillery. "You awkward loons!" it shouted, "be careful of that tub and its contents. Are there not some other rascals somewhere who are less clumsy?"
Ere long, the voice was heard approaching up the stairs, along the corridor, still grumbling noisily anent bucolic yokeldom, and, by and by, a much cloaked figure loomed on the threshold, and straightway went through the complicated evolutions of an elaborate and respectful curtsey.
"Madame la Marquise, no doubt," said the deep, strong voice. "Madame's humble and obedient servant. My name is Aglaé Brunelle. Where are the darling infants?"
The abruptness of the salutation amused Gabrielle.
The woman rejoiced in a fine figure, of somewhat large proportions, as was evident when she unwound her wraps. Her complexion was dusky, her hair and eyes coal black. Her mouth large, with full, red lips, which contrasted well with the square white teeth behind. The thick, straight eyebrows were endowed with a strange mobility which hinted at habits of command curiously at variance with the position of the new-comer. Her manner, however, towards the marquise was a miracle of deportment. Submissive respect was deftly mingled with a tinge of independent nonchalance, glossed over with an unconcealed admiration, flattering to the beauty of the chatelaine.
"An oddity," thought Gabrielle, unconsciously relieved to perceive that the large lady was uncomely.
"An ugly, insolent monster," was the uncompromising verdict of fierce Toinon, who had scanned her from the top of the stairs.
Her noisy delight over the prodigies who had been kept up to make acquaintance with their governess quite won the mother's heart. The tall figure went down on its knees with a prodigious thump, and twined them in its bare dark arms with a shower of kisses.
"The darlings-the cherubs-the pets," growled the strong voice, like a muffled drum. "They will soon love their Aglaé, will they not? I knew that the offspring of a father like the good marquis and of so divinely lovely a mother, must be angels-and they are-they are;" another shower of kisses. "Madame la Marquise must forgive my brusquerie, for I do so dote on children."
Here was an excellent beginning. The mother was gratified-the father looked on the picturesque group with a broad smile of self-complacency. It was evident for once that he had been extremely clever. Mademoiselle's manners being peculiar, he had had misgivings as to this first interview, but nothing could have gone better. The lady was a marvel of intelligence! Of course she was-a favourite pupil of Mesmer's, who knew his secrets, was mistress of his system. From this day a new era was to dawn on gloomy Lorge. The new-comer was an undoubted acquisition-just what was required to crown the family edifice. All would go merrily now as marriage bells.
The astute abbé was puzzled by the governess. Her arrival upset all his calculations. Clovis had never consulted him any more than Gabrielle, and under a preoccupied manner, he had, on receipt of the letter, been consumed by a white heat of rage. To dare to introduce a foreign element without his consent! Had he been scheming all this while to be baffled by a stranger? For surely in so small and retired a household she would take a prominent part. Would the woman turn out friend or foe? He had deemed the dreamy Clovis well under his thumb for life. The chevalier was a mere pawn upon the board. Since playing that false move on the night of the storm, he had employed all his arts to lull Gabrielle's suspicions, and had succeeded beyond expectation. That a head so cool as his should for once so betray its owner! A little patience. So delicious a prize was worth working and waiting for, and trying for again and again. Of different grit to the chevalier, he was not one to submit to defeat on a first repulse. No: his appetite was whetted. The morsel should be his and only his, as he had openly sworn; and would be all the more enjoyable for a little vexatious waiting.
Thus had he arranged the future in his mind. But now, what of the governess? This unexpected move must be met somehow. Would it be well to form an alliance with her, or must she be promptly ousted? Her character must be studied with care. Evidently by nature domineering, what would be her attitude to him? Could she be frightened and brow-beaten? Not likely. Would she endeavour to undermine the influence he had already gained in order to reign alone? Probably.
At the thought the abbé's eyes gleamed cat-like, and his thin lips tightened over grinding teeth. Turned out by a scheming stranger, and when all promised so well. To be turned out meant ruin, for things in the south had been going so wrong during the last six months, had become so much worse since the period of their hurried flight from Toulouse, that both brothers were quite dependent on the marquis. To be ejected now, or later, by the large dark hand of the unwelcome Aglaé would mean pecuniary undoing, and the loss of the sweet morsel as well. Resign Gabrielle? Never! How to manage, then? The marquise was inclined to be friendly with the interloper, which showed a too Christian frame of mind to cope with mundane buffeting. This must be combated at once, lest it should become necessary before long to make a combined effort for the annihilation of the intruder.
What had the baleful woman come for to this dismal and remote retreat? Why had Mesmer thrust his protégée upon the neophyte? With curses the abbé admitted inwardly that he was himself at the bottom of the imbroglio. With the idea of dividing the husband from the wife for ever, he had conceived the plan of burying Clovis so deep in mysticism that he might never be pulled out of the slough, and to that end had suggested an assistant who should be taught to play upon his foibles. But who could be expected to foresee that the adept would take the form of a woman?
Of course, the woman was a greedy adventuress in search of flesh-pots, and had gauged aright the feeble and vacillating character of the young Marquis de Gange. She was evidently extremely gifted and he the dullest of good-looking dogs. Already he was dazzled by the jewels of a varied experience which she threw about so freely, and began to babble exasperating nonsense of having met his "Affinity" at last!
That she had some deep design on hand was evident, for she laid herself out to dazzle the besotted Clovis, and succeeded but too well. If it were not so, what could the motive of so brilliant a person be for deliberately banishing herself to this hermitage? She had certainly not jogged along those rugged roads for the edification of two strange children, however abnormally cherubic.
In the struggle which must come, simple Gabrielle would be worsted. Beauty and honest innocence alone are never a match for intellect, even when combined with outward homeliness. Aglaé Brunelle was not absolutely ugly, and yet by no means pretty; but when a superior mind shines through a face, however plain, does it not light the features with a beauty all its own? Toinon had learnt that long since, and used it, as we have seen, for a text.
The more he thought the matter over, the more puzzled grew the abbé; the more angry with himself and dissatisfied. A very few days after the arrival of Mademoiselle, her pervading presence began to be felt by the entire household in a way that maddened Pharamond. It was like the mysterious action of yeast on dough. As outwardly respectful and submissive as a dependent should be, everybody came to feel that orders emanated from her. Was the fascination due to an occult power inoculated by the prophet? Even the scoffing abbé began to wonder whether there was something serious underlying the antics of the charlatan, after all. Certain it was that she did possess a power, but whether due to magnetism or strong will, it was hard to determine. The abbé's will was as tough as hers, he was proud to think, but instinct told him that a struggle between the two would be exhausting to both, and that none might prophesy the result. Better an alliance, if she, like him, was working on a web. But would she brook a divided sway? Was he prepared to accept so unsatisfactory an arrangement? How exasperating, that just as the horizon seemed so clear, the sky so cloudless, a thunderbolt should come out of the blue to play havoc with all his combinations.
What of Gabrielle? His schemes revolved around her. Thanks to his cleverness he and she had tranquilly resumed their old relations. He did not propose to be content to read poetry for ever. A time was to come when she was to return the burning kisses he had impressed upon her shoulder, and twine her arms about his neck; and that longed-for moment was no nearer now than months ago. To tame the fluttering bird to his will he must do a little squeezing, after all, and make up by the ardour of the future for the painful proceedings of the present. Yes, Gabrielle must be gently racked, be made familiar with tweaks and pains. A little twist or two and a tug of ropes just to hint of such a tearing as was possible. Perhaps the governess, if an alliance could be brought about, might become a useful agent instead of a kill-joy. Isolated on all sides, the Marquise de Gange must be thrown on her dear friend the abbé for protection; then the rest would quite naturally follow.
Among other things the accomplished Aglaé was a skilled musician, and this became a new and unexpected bond between her and the enchanted marquis. She could rattle off by heart on the spinet all Lulli and Glück, could even improvise entrancing accompaniments to airs hitherto unknown to her. She loved music, and considered the violoncello to be the most soul-stirring if sad of instruments. Sometimes her hands would slide from the keys while a great sigh burst from her capacious bosom, and the marquis looking up would perceive tears rolling down her cheeks. "It is nothing, but I do love it so," she would snuffle incoherently, and then resume the improvising with eyes and nose unbecomingly roseate and swollen.
What with the music (Gabrielle of course, retired into space at the first scratching of the 'cello) and experiments with the bucket, and abstruse instructions as to laying on of hands, and the careful study of Mesmer's now frequent letters, the marquis and the governess were constantly thrown together. To flirt with your affinity-two souls denuded of their earthy envelope, side by side on a sofa-may have its delights; but surely to commune together in the flesh at all hours has conspicuous advantages.
On the day after her arrival Gabrielle had courteously volunteered to show mademoiselle over the castle, and that lady had overawed her hostess by the variety and minuteness of her knowledge, and bewildered her with searching questions. The abbé, looking on, had pointed out to the chevalier (who, gooseberry-eyed, saw nothing) the amusing contrast presented by the two ladies.
Gabrielle was a Greuze, without that painter's namby-pamby softness; so fair a thing that the hours almost turned laggard on their plodding way to gaze at her. Tall, slim, erect, with a carriage which is a gift at birth and can never be mimicked by a parvenue; a perfect figure; a colour borrowed from an unopened moss-rose; an expression of calm, as of an unrippled sea in a land-locked bay. By her side moved Aglaé Brunelle-taller still, broad-shouldered; with a waist of smaller dimensions than might be expected from the massive moulding of the limbs; an expression changing each moment according to the object brought under the beady eyes; a heavy swinging gait, and a trick of tossing the head. There was something that pleased by its oddity, and was as effective in its way as the sweeping erectness of her companion.
Aglaé insisted upon going everywhere, and delivered a running lecture as she went, impressing points with a straight dark finger, square-tipped. From the turret window she delivered herself of a lesson in geography, showing that she knew more about the vicinity of the Loire than those who dwelt there. She vowed it was a shame to have walled up the dungeons, for in one (unless she was misinformed) was a crucifix carved with reverent care out of the stone, by the broken knife blade of a despairing prisoner. Then, the survey over, she declared she had not seen the most interesting object of all. What was that? Why! the school-room of the prodigies; what else? Was she not here to teach their minds to shoot, and was it not most important that the scene of the operation should be selected with consummate care? There was no school-room-only a nursery! Then and there so crying a defect should be remedied. Madame would forgive her energy, recognizing the importance of the subject? Madame was so beautiful and indulgent to a poor stranger that there was no doubt of it. The darlings must have every advantage. Did not madame think so? Of course she did. Then off stumped Mademoiselle Brunelle, shaking the floor as though a colossal statue had been endowed with movement, and the big voice was heard in thunder presently, shouting out peremptory commands about curtains and chairs and tables.
Who was to resist this interloper? Gabrielle, though she felt nettled at being taken despotically in hand, and thrust aside, was not prepared to interfere, for manifestly the arrangements were for the good of the darlings. The new broom was sweeping so very clean, that compunction invaded the maternal bosom, in that she had been remiss in not sufficiently considering the extent of the cherubic wants.
Established in the best room on the ground floor to her satisfaction, surrounded with pictures and statuettes and ornamental nicknacks ravished from other chambers, Mademoiselle Brunelle let all and sundry know that here was her especial stronghold which none would invade with impunity.
Nevertheless, the Marquise de Gange, who did not understand that such an ukase could possibly refer to her, prepared herself to assist at the lessons of the dear ones and to watch the process of shooting, and she was no little taken aback at the arbitrary proceedings of the governess. At first she took no notice of sour smiles and head-tossings, whereupon mademoiselle thought fit to dot her i's, and bluntly inform madame with that queer mixture of respect and independence, in which the latter was beginning to preponderate, that it was a troublesome matter to instruct youth in complicated subjects in the presence of an ignorant mother.
"Do consider, madame," she observed, saucily, "how humiliating for you it will be, if they discover how little you know!"
Gabrielle bowed her head and blushingly admitted her shortcomings. "I too can learn," she murmured with meekness, "and you will find me an anxious pupil;" but somehow whenever the rustle of her dress was heard in the corridor, the cherubs unaccountably began their music lesson; and when, remarking the fact, she requested that in future the scraping of Victor's violin might be exchanged for more delectable study, mademoiselle raised her mobile thatch of brow, and curtly declared that she took orders only from the marquis.
