CHAPTER X.
A THUNDERBOLT.
As the miner, who sets fire to the fuse and seeks shelter from thecoming explosion, so did Diana de Laurebourg return to her father'shouse after her visit to Daumon. During dinner it was impossible forher to utter a word, and it was with the greatest difficulty that shesucceeded in swallowing a mouthful. Fortunately neither her fathernor mother took any notice of her. They had that day received a letterannouncing the news that their son, for whose future prosperity theyhad sacrificed Diana, was lying dangerously ill in Paris, where he wasliving in great style. They were in terrible affliction, and spoke ofstarting at once, so as to be with him. They therefore expressed nosurprise when, on leaving the table, Diana pleaded a severe headache asan excuse for retiring to her own room. When once she was alone, havingdismissed her maid, she heaved a deep sigh of relief. She never thoughtof retiring to bed, but throwing open her window, leaned out with herelbow on the window-sill.
It seemed to her that Norbert would certainly make some effort tosee her, or at any rate by some means to let her know whether he hadsucceeded or failed.
"But I must be patient," murmured she, "for I can't hear anything untilthe afternoon of to-morrow."
In spite, however, of her resolutions, patience fled from her mind, andas soon as the servants had begun moving about, she went out into thegarden and took up a position which commanded a view of the highroad,but no one appeared. The bell rang for breakfast. Again she had to seatherself at table with her parents, and the terrible penance of thepast evening had to be repeated. At three o'clock she could endure thesuspense no longer, and making her escape from the Chateau, she wentover to Daumon, who, she felt, must have obtained some intelligence.Even if she found that he knew nothing, it would be a relief to speak tohim and to ask him when he thought that this terrible delay would cometo an end. But she got no comfort at Daumon's, for he had passed asmiserable a night as herself, and was nearly dead with affright. He hadremained in his office all the morning, starting at the slightest sound,and though he was as anxious as Diana for information, he had only goneout a little before her arrival. He met Mademoiselle Laurebourg on hisreturn at the door of his cottage, and taking her inside, he informedher that at a late hour the night before the doctor had been sent forto Champdoce to attend the Duke, who was supposed to be dying. Then hereproved her bitterly for her imprudence in visiting him.
"Do you wish," said he, "to show all Bevron that you and I are Norbert'saccomplices?"
"What do you mean?" asked she.
"I mean that if the Duke does not die, we are lost. When I say we, Imean myself, for you, as the daughter of a noble family, will be sure toescape scot free, and I shall be left to pay for all."
"You said that the effect was immediate."
"I did say so, and I thought so too. Ah, if I had but reflected alittle! You will however see that I do not intend to give in withouta fight. I will defend myself by accusing you. I am an honest man, andhave been your dupe. You have thought to make me a mere tool; your fineNorbert is a fool, but he will pay for his doings with his head all thesame."
At these gross insults Mademoiselle de Laurebourg rose to her feet andattempted to speak, but he cut her short.
"I can't stop to pick and choose my words, for I feel at the presentmoment as if the axe of the guillotine were suspended over my head. Nowjust oblige me by getting out of this, and never show your face hereagain."
"As you like. I will communicate with Champdoce."
"You shall not," exclaimed Daumon with a gesture of menace. "You mightas well go and ask how the Duke enjoyed the taste of the poison."
His words, however, did not deter Diana, for any risk seemed preferableto her than the present state of suspense.
With a glance of contempt at the Counsellor she left the cottage,determined to act as she thought fit.
After Diana's departure, Daumon felt too that he must learn how matterswere going on, and going over to the Widow Rouleau's, he despatched herdaughter Francoise to the Chateau de Champdoce, under the pretext thathe wanted some money which he had lent to one of the Duke's servants.He had instructed the girl so cunningly that she had no suspicion ofthe real end and object of her mission, and set out on it with the mostimplicit confidence. He had not long to wait for her return, for inabout half an hour his messenger returned.
"Well," said he anxiously, "has the scamp sent my money?"
"No, sir, I am sorry to say that I could not even get to speak to him."
"How was that? Was he not at Champdoce?"
"I cannot even tell you that. Ever since the Duke has been ill, thegreat gates of the Chateau have been bolted, for it seems that the poorold gentleman is at his last gasp."
"Did you not hear what was the matter with him?"
"No, sir, the little I have told you I got from a stable boy, who spoketo me through a grating in the gate, but before he could say ten wordsJean came up and sent him off."
"Do you mean Jean, the Duke's confidential man?"
"Just so," returned the girl, "and very angry he was. He abused the ladand told him to be off to the stables, and then asked, 'Well, my girl,and pray what do you want?' I told him that I had come with a messageto the man Mechenit; but before I could say any more he broke in with,'Well, he isn't here, you can call again in a month.'"
"You silly little fool, was that all you said?"
"Not quite, for I said that I must see Mechenit. Then, looking at mevery suspiciously, he said, 'And who sent you here, you little spy?'"
The Counsellor started.
"Indeed! and what did you say in return?" asked he.
"Why, of course I said that you had sent me."
"Yes, yes, that was right."
"And then Jean rubbed his hand over his chin, and looking at me verycuriously, said sternly,--
"'So you have come from the Counsellor, have you? Ah, I see it all, andso shall he one of these days.'"
At these words Daumon felt his knees give way under him; but all furtherquestioning was stopped by the appearance of M. de Puymandour on his wayto Champdoce. He therefore dismissed Francoise, and awaited the returnof this gentleman, from whom he hoped to gain the fullest informationregarding the Duke's malady. The intelligence which he received calmedhim a little, and repenting of his treatment of Diana, he went and hungabout the gates of the Chateau de Laurebourg, until he was lucky enoughto catch sight of the girl in the garden, for her anxiety would notpermit her to remain in the house. He beckoned to her, and then said,--
"M. Norbert did not make the dose strong enough. The Duke is as strongas a horse; but it is all right, for should he live, he will be anidiot, and so our end is as much gained as if he had died."
"But why does not Norbert write to me?" asked Diana seriously.
"Why, because he has some faint glimmerings of common sense. How do youknow that he may not have half a dozen spies about him? You must wait."
Diana and the Counsellor waited for a week, but Norbert made no sign.Diana suffered agonies, and the days seemed to pass with leaden feet.Sunday came at last. The Marchioness de Laurebourg had attended earlyMass, and had given orders that her daughter should go to high Massunder the escort of her maid. Diana was highly pleased with thisarrangement, for she hoped to have a chance of seeing Norbert, but shewas disappointed. The Mass had commenced when she entered, but the spotoccupied by the Duke and his son was vacant. She followed the servicein a purely mechanical manner, and at last noticed that the priest hadtaken his place in the pulpit.
This was generally an exciting moment for the inhabitants of Bevron,for it was immediately before the sermon that the banns of marriagewere published. The priest gazed blandly down upon the expectant crowd,coughed slightly, used his handkerchief, and finally took from hisbreviary a sheet of paper.
"I have," said he, "to publish the banns of marriage between----" herehe made a little pause, and all the congregation were on the tenterhooksof expectation; "between," he continued, "Monsieur Louis Norber
t,Marquis de Champdoce, a minor, and only legitimate son of GuillaumeCaesar, Duke de Champdoce, and of his wife Isabella de Barnaville, nowdeceased, but who both formerly resided in this parish, and DesireeAnne Marie Palouzet, minor, and legitimate daughter of Rene AugustusPalouzet, Count de Puymandour, and of Zoe Staplet, his wife, but nowdeceased, also residents of this parish."
This was the thunderbolt launched from the pulpit, which seemed to crushDiana into the earth, and her heart almost ceased to beat.
"Let any one," continued the priest, "who knows of any impediment tothis marriage, take warning that he or she must acquaint us with it,under the penalty of excommunication. At the same time let him be warnedunder the same penalty to bring forward nothing in malice or withoutsome foundation."
An impediment! What irony lay veiled beneath that word. Mademoisellede Laurebourg knew of more than one. A wild desire filled her heart tostart from her seat and cry out,--
"It is impossible for this marriage to take place, for that Norbert washer affianced husband in the sight of Heaven, and that he was bound toher by the strongest of all links, that of crime."
But by a gigantic effort she controlled herself, and remainedmotionless, pallid as a spectre, but with a forced smile on her lips,and with unparalleled audacity made a little sign to one of her femalefriends, which plainly meant, "This is, indeed, something unexpected."All her mind was concentrated to preserve a calm and unmoved aspect. Thesinging of the choir seemed to die away, the strong odor of the incensealmost overpowered her, and she felt that unless the service soon cameto an end, she must fall insensible from her chair. At last the priestturned again to the congregation and droned out the _Ita missa est_,and all was over. Diana grasped the arm of her maid and forced her away,without saying a word. As she reached home, a servant ran up to her witha face upon which agitation was strongly painted.
"Ah, mademoiselle," gasped he, "such a frightful calamity. Your fatherand mother are expecting you; it is really too terrible."
Diana hastened to obey the summons. Her father and mother were seatednear each other, evidently in deep distress. She went towards them, andthe Marquis, drawing her to him, pressed her against his heart.
"Poor child! My dear daughter!" murmured he, "you are all that is leftto us now."
Their son had died, and the sad news had been brought to the Chateauwhile Diana was at Mass. By her brother's death she had succeeded to aprincely fortune, and would now be one of the richest heiresses for manya mile round. Had this event happened but a week before, her marriage toNorbert would have met with no opposition from his father, and she wouldnever have plunged into this abyss of crime. It was more than the ironyof fate; it was the manifest punishment of an angry Divinity. She shedno tear for her brother's death. Her thoughts were all firmly fixed onNorbert, and that fearful announcement made in the house of God rangstill in her ears. What could be the meaning of this sudden arrangement,and why had the marriage been so suddenly decided on?
She felt that some mystery lay beneath it all, and vowed that she wouldfathom it to its nethermost depths. What was it that had taken placeat Champdoce? Had the Duke, contrary to Daumon's prognostications,recovered? Had he discovered his son' insidious attack upon his life,and only pardoned it upon a blind compliance being given to his will?She passed away the whole day in these vain suppositions, and tried tothink of every plan to stay the celebration of this union, for she hadnot given up her hopes, nor did she yet despair of ultimate success. Hernew and unlooked-for fortune placed a fresh weapon at her disposal, andshe felt that the victory would yet be hers if she could but see Norbertagain, were it but for a single instant. Was she not certain of theabsolute power that she exercised over him, for had she not by a fewwords induced him to enter upon the terrible path of crime? She must seehim, and that without a moment's delay, for the danger was imminent. Aday now would be worth a year hereafter. She determined that, upon thatvery night, she would visit Champdoce. A little after midnight, when theinhabitants of the Chateau were wrapped in slumber, she crept on tiptoedown the grand staircase, and made her exit by a side door. She hadarranged her plan as to how she would find Norbert, for he had oftendescribed the interior arrangements of the Chateau to her. She knew thathis room was on the ground floor, with two windows looking on to thecourtyard. When, however, she reached the old Chateau, she hesitated.Suppose that she should go to the wrong window. But she had gone too farto recede, and determined that if any one else than Norbert should openthe window, she would turn and fly. She tapped at the window softly,and then more loudly. She had made no mistake. Norbert threw open thewindow, with the words,--
"Who is there?"
"It is I, Norbert; I, Diana."
"What do you want?" asked Norbert in an agitated tone of voice. "What doyou want to do here?"
She looked at him anxiously and hardly recognized his face, so great wasthe change that had come over it. It absolutely terrified her.
"Are you going to marry Mademoiselle de Puymandour?" asked she.
"Yes I am."
"And yet you pretended to love me?"
"Yes, I loved you ardently, devotedly, with a love that drove me tocrime; but you had no love; you cared but for rank and fortune."
Diana raised her hands to heaven in an agony of despair.
"Should I be here at this hour if what you say is true?" asked shewildly. "My brother is dead, and I am as wealthy as you are, Norbert,and yet I am here. You accuse me of being mercenary, and for whatreason? Was it because I refused to fly with you from my father's house?Oh, Norbert, it was but the happiness of our future life that I stroveto protect. It was----"
Her speech failed her, and her eyes dilated with horror, for the doorbehind Norbert opened, and the Duke de Champdoce entered the room,uttering a string of meaningless words, and laughing with that mirthlesslaugh which is so sure a sign of idiotcy.
"Can you understand now," exclaimed Norbert, pointing to hisfather, "why the remembrance of my love for you has become a hatefulreminiscence? Do you dare to talk of happiness to me, when this spectreof a meditated crime will ever rise between us?" and with a meaninggesture he pointed to the open gate of the courtyard.
She turned; but before passing away, she cast a glance upon him fullof the deepest fury and jealousy. She could not forgive Norbert for hisshare in the crime that she herself prompted,--for the crime which hadblighted all her hopes of happiness. Her farewell was a menace.
"Norbert," she said, as she glided through the gate like a spectre ofthe night, "I will have revenge, and that right soon."