CHAPTER XI
During the decisive moments of life, when one's entire future dependsupon a word, or a gesture, twenty contradictory inspirations cantraverse the mind in the time occupied by a flash of lightning.
On the sudden apparition of the young Marquis de Sairmeuse, Mauriced'Escorval's first thought was this:
"How long has he been there? Has he been playing the spy? Has he beenlistening to us? What did he hear?"
His first impulse was to spring upon his enemy, to strike him in theface, and compel him to engage in a hand-to-hand struggle.
The thought of Anne-Marie checked him.
He reflected upon the possible, even probable results of a quarrel bornof such circumstances. The combat which would ensue would cost this pureyoung girl her reputation. Martial would talk of it; and country peopleare pitiless. He saw this girl, whom he looked so devotedly upon, becomethe talk of the neighborhood; saw the finger of scorn pointed at her,and possessed sufficient self-control to master his anger. All thesereflections had occupied only half a second.
Then, politely touching his hat, and stepping toward Martial:
"You are a stranger, Monsieur," said he, in a voice which wasfrightfully altered, "and you have doubtless lost your way?" His wordswere ill-chosen, and defeated his prudent intentions. A curt "Mind yourown business" would have been less wounding. He forgot that this word"stranger" was the most deadly insult that one could cast in the face ofthe former _emigres_, who had returned with the allied armies.
Still the young marquis did not change his insolently nonchalantattitude.
He touched the visor of his hunting cap with his finger, and replied:
"It is true--I have lost my way."
Agitated as Marie-Anne was, she could not fail to understand that herpresence was all that restrained the hatred of these two young men.Their attitude, the glance with which they measured each other, did notleave the shadow of a doubt on that score. If one was ready to springupon the other, the other was on the alert, ready to defend himself.
The silence of nearly a moment which followed was as threatening as theprofound calm which precedes the storm.
Martial was the first to break it.
"A peasant's directions are not generally remarkable for theirclearness," he said, lightly; "and for more than an hour I have beenseeking the house to which Monsieur Lacheneur has retired."
"Ah!"
"I am sent to him by the Duc de Sairmeuse, my father."
Knowing what he did, Maurice supposed that these strangely rapaciousindividuals had some new demand to make.
"I thought," said he, "that all relations between Monsieur Lacheneur andMonsieur de Sairmeuse were broken off last evening at the house of theabbe."
This was said in the most provoking manner, and yet Martial never somuch as frowned. He had sworn that he would remain calm, and he hadstrength enough to keep his word.
"If these relations--as God forbid--have been broken off," he replied,"believe me, Monsieur d'Escorval, it is no fault of ours."
"Then it is not as people say?"
"What people? Who?"
"The people here in the neighborhood."
"Ah! And what do these people say?"
"The truth. That you have been guilty of an offence which a man of honorcould never forgive nor forget."
The young marquis shook his head gravely.
"You are quick to condemn, sir," he said, coldly. "Permit me to hopethat Monsieur Lacheneur will be less severe than yourself; and that hisresentment--just, I confess, will vanish before"--he hesitated--"beforea truthful explanation."
Such an expression from the lips of this haughty young aristocrat! Wasit possible?
Martial profited by the effect he had produced to advance towardMarie-Anne, and, addressing himself exclusively to her, seemed afterthat to ignore the presence of Maurice completely.
"For there has been a mistake--a misunderstanding, Mademoiselle," hecontinued. "Do not doubt it. The Sairmeuse are not ingrates. Howcould anyone have supposed that we would intentionally give offenseto a--devoted friend of our family, and that at a moment when he hadrendered us a most signal service! A true gentleman like my father, anda hero of probity like yours, cannot fail to esteem each other. I admitthat in the scene of yesterday, Monsieur de Sairmeuse did not appear toadvantage; but the step he takes today proves his sincere regret."
Certainly this was not the cavalier tone which he had employed inaddressing Marie-Anne, for the first time, on the square in front of thechurch.
He had removed his hat, he remained half inclined before her, andhe spoke in a tone of profound respect, as though it were a haughtyduchess, and not the humble daughter of that "rascal" Lacheneur whom hewas addressing.
Was it only a _roue's_ manoeuvre? Or had he also involuntarily submittedto the power of this beautiful girl? It was both; and it would havebeen difficult for him to say where the voluntary ended, and where theinvoluntary began.
He continued:
"My father is an old man who has suffered cruelly. Exile is hard tobear. But if sorrows and deceptions have embittered his character, theyhave not changed his heart. His apparent imperiousness and arroganceconceal a kindness of heart which I have often seen degenerate intopositive weakness. And--why should I not confess it?--the Duc deSairmeuse, with his white hair, still retains the illusions of a child.He refuses to believe that the world has progressed during the pasttwenty years. Moreover, people had deceived him by the most absurdfabrications. To speak plainly, even while we were in Montaignac,Monsieur Lacheneur's enemies succeeded in prejudicing my father againsthim."
One would have sworn that he was speaking the truth, so persuasive washis voice, so entirely did the expression of his face, his glance, andhis gestures accord with his words.
And Maurice, who felt--who was certain that the young man was lying,impudently lying, was abashed by this scientific prevarication which isso universally practised in good society, and of which he was entirelyignorant.
But what did the marquis desire here--and why this farce?
"Need I tell you, Mademoiselle," he resumed, "all that I suffered lastevening in the little drawing-room in the presbytery? No, never in mywhole life can I recollect such a cruel moment. I understood, and Idid honor to Monsieur Lacheneur's heroism. Hearing of our arrival, he,without hesitation, without delay, hastened to voluntarily surrendera princely fortune--and he was insulted. This excessive injusticehorrified me. And if I did not openly protest against it--if I did notshow my indignation--it was only because contradiction drives my fatherto the verge of frenzy. And what good would it have done for me toprotest? The filial love and piety which you displayed were far morepowerful in their effect than any words of mine would have been. Youwere scarcely out of the village before Monsieur de Sairmeuse, alreadyashamed of his injustice, said to me: 'I have been wrong, but I am anold man; it is hard for me to decide to make the first advance; you,Marquis, go and find Monsieur Lacheneur, and obtain his forgiveness.'"
Marie-Anne, redder than a peony, and terribly embarrassed, lowered hereyes.
"I thank you, Monsieur," she faltered, "in the name of my father--"
"Oh! do not thank me," interrupted Martial, earnestly; "it will be myduty, on the contrary, to render you thanks, if you can induce MonsieurLacheneur to accept the reparation which is due him--and he will acceptit, if you will only condescend to plead our cause. Who could resistyour sweet voice, your beautiful, beseeching eyes?"
However inexperienced Maurice might be, he could no longer fail tocomprehend Martial's intentions. This man whom he mortally hatedalready, dared to speak of love to Marie-Anne, and before him, Maurice.In other words, the marquis, not content with having ignored andinsulted him, presumed to take an insolent advantage of his supposedsimplicity.
The certainty of this insult sent all his blood in a boiling torrent tohis brain.
He seized Martial by the arm, and with irresistible power whirled himtwice around, then threw him more than ten fee
t, exclaiming:
"This last is too much, Marquis de Sairmeuse!"
Maurice's attitude was so threatening that Martial fully expectedanother attack. The violence of the shock had thrown him down upon oneknee; without rising, he lifted his gun, ready to take aim.
It was not from anything like cowardice on the part of the Marquis deSairmeuse that he decided to fire upon an unarmed foe; but the affrontwhich he had received was so deadly and so ignoble in his opinion, thathe would have shot Maurice like a dog, rather than feel the weight ofhis finger upon him again.
This explosion of anger from Maurice Marie-Anne had been expecting andhoping for every moment.
She was even more inexperienced than her lover; but she was a woman, andcould not fail to understand the meaning of the young marquis.
He was evidently "paying his court to her." And with what intentions! Itwas only too easy to divine.
Her agitation, while the marquis spoke in a more and more tender voice,changed first to stupor, then to indignation, as she realized hismarvellous audacity.
After that, how could she help blessing the violence which put an endto a situation which was so insulting for her, and so humiliating forMaurice?
An ordinary woman would have thrown herself between the two men who wereready to kill each other. Marie-Anne did not move a muscle.
Was it not the duty of Maurice to protect her when she was insulted?Who, then, if not he, should defend her from the insolent gallantry ofthis libertine? She would have blushed, she who was energy personified,to love a weak and pusillanimous man.
But any intervention was unnecessary. Maurice comprehended that thiswas one of those affronts which the person insulted must not seem tosuspect, under penalty of giving the offending party the advantage.
He felt that Marie-Anne must not be regarded as the cause of thequarrel!
His instant recognition of the situation produced a powerful reactionin his mind; and he recovered, as if by magic, his coolness and the freeexercise of his faculties.
"Yes," he resumed, defiantly, "this is hypocrisy enough. To dare toprate of reparation after the insults that you and yours have inflicted,is adding intentional humiliation to insult--and I will not permit it."
Martial had thrown aside his gun; he now rose and brushed the knee ofhis pantaloons, to which a few particles of dust had adhered, with aphlegm whose secret he had learned in England.
He was too discerning not to perceive that Maurice had disguised thetrue cause of his outburst of passion; but what did it matter to him?Had he avowed it, the marquis would not have been displeased.
Yet it was necessary to make some response, and to preserve thesuperiority which he imagined he had maintained up to that time.
"You will never know, Monsieur," he said, glancing alternately at hisgun and at Marie-Anne, "all that you owe to Mademoiselle Lacheneur. Weshall meet again, I hope--"
"You have made that remark before," Maurice interrupted, tauntingly."Nothing is easier than to find me. The first peasant you meet willpoint out the house of Baron d'Escorval."
"_Eh bien_! sir, I cannot promise that you will not see two of myfriends."
"Oh! whenever it may please you!"
"Certainly; but it would gratify me to know by what right you makeyourself the judge of Monsieur Lacheneur's honor, and take it uponyourself to defend what has not been attacked. Who has given you thisright?"
From Martial's sneering tone, Maurice was certain that he had overheard,at least a part of, his conversation with Marie-Anne.
"My right," he replied, "is that of friendship. If I tell you that youradvances are unwelcome, it is because I know that Monsieur Lacheneurwill accept nothing from you. No, nothing, under whatever guise you mayoffer these alms which you tender merely to appease your own conscience.He will never forgive the affront which is his honor and your shame. Ah!you thought to degrade him, Messieurs de Sairmeuse! and you have liftedhim far above your mock grandeur. _He_ receive anything from you! Go;learn that your millions will never give you a pleasure equal to theineffable joy he will feel, when seeing you roll by in your carriage, hesays to himself: 'Those people owe everything to me!'"
His burning words vibrated with such intensity of feeling thatMarie-Anne could not resist the impulse to press his hand; and thisgesture was his revenge upon Martial, who turned pale with passion.
"But I have still another right," continued Maurice. "My fatheryesterday had the honor of asking of Monsieur Lacheneur the hand of hisdaughter----"
"And I refused it!" cried a terrible voice.
Marie-Anne and both young men turned with the same movement of alarm andsurprise.
M. Lacheneur stood before them, and by his side was Chanlouineau, whosurveyed the group with threatening eyes.
"Yes, I refused it," resumed M. Lacheneur, "and I do not believe that mydaughter will marry anyone without my consent. What did you promise methis morning, Marie-Anne? Can it be you, you who grant a rendezvous togallants in the forest? Return to the house, instantly----"
"But father----"
"Return!" he repeated with an oath; "return, I command you."
She obeyed and departed, not without giving Maurice a look in which heread a farewell that she believed would be eternal.
As soon as she had gone, perhaps twenty paces, M. Lacheneur, with foldedarms, confronted Maurice.
"As for you, Monsieur d'Escorval," said he, rudely, "I hope that youwill no longer undertake to prowl around my daughter----"
"I swear to you, Monsieur--"
"Oh, no oaths, if you please. It is an evil action to endeavor to turna young girl from her duty, which is obedience. You have broken foreverall relations between your family and mine."
The poor youth tried to excuse himself, but M. Lacheneur interruptedhim.
"Enough! enough!" said he; "go back to your home."
And as Maurice hesitated, he seized him by the collar and dragged him tothe little footpath leading through the grove.
It was the work of scarcely ten seconds, and yet, he found time towhisper in the young man's ear, in his formerly friendly tones:
"Go, you little wretch! do you wish to render all my precautionsuseless?"
He watched Maurice as he disappeared, bewildered by the scene he hadjust witnessed, and stupefied by what he had just heard; and it was notuntil he saw that young d'Escorval was out of hearing that he turned toMartial.
"As I have had the honor of meeting you, Monsieur le Marquis," said he,"I deem it my duty to inform you that Chupin and his sons are searchingfor you everywhere. It is at the instance of the duke, your father, whois anxious for you to repair at once to the Chateau de Courtornieu."
He turned to Chanlouineau, and added:
"We will now proceed on our way."
But Martial detained him with a gesture.
"I am much surprised to hear that they are seeking me," said he. "Myfather knows very well where he sent me; I was going to your house,Monsieur, and at his request."
"To my house?"
"To your house, yes, Monsieur, to express our sincere regret at thescene which took place at the presbytery last evening."
And without waiting for any response, Martial, with wonderful clevernessand felicity of expression, began to repeat to the father the storywhich he had just related to the daughter.
According to his version, his father and himself were in despair. Howcould M. Lacheneur suppose them guilty of such black ingratitude?Why had he retired so precipitately? The Duc de Sairmeuse held atM. Lacheneur's disposal any amount which it might please him tomention--sixty, a hundred thousand francs, even more.
But M. Lacheneur did not appear to be dazzled in the least; and whenMartial had concluded, he replied, respectfully, but coldly, that hewould consider the matter.
This coldness amazed Chanlouineai; he did not conceal the fact whenthe marquis, after many earnest protestations, at last wended his wayhomeward.
"We have misjudged these people," he declared.
But
M. Lacheneur shrugged his shoulders.
"And so you are foolish enough to suppose that it was to me that heoffered all that money?"
"Zounds! I have ears."
"Ah, well! my poor boy, you must not believe all they hear, if you have.The truth is, that these large sums were intended to win the favor of mydaughter. She has pleased this coxcomb of a marquis; and--he wishes tomake her his mistress----"
Chanlouineau stopped short, with eyes flashing, and hands clinched.
"Good God!" he exclaimed; "prove that, and I am yours, body and soul--todo anything you desire."