XXVIII.

  At the same hour when Papa Ravinet, on the deck of "The Saint Louis,"was pressing Daniel's hand, and bidding him farewell, there werein Paris two poor women, who prayed and watched with breathlessanxiety,--the sister of the old dealer, Mrs. Bertolle, the widow; andHenrietta, the daughter of Count Ville-Handry. When Papa Ravinet hadappeared the evening before, with his carpet-bag in his hand, his hurryhad been so extraordinary, and his excitement so great, that one mighthave doubted his sanity. He had peremptorily asked his sister for twothousand francs; had made Henrietta write in all haste a letter ofintroduction to Daniel; and had rushed out again like a tempest, as hehad come in, without saying more than this,--

  "M. Champcey will arrive, or perhaps has already arrived, in Marseilles,on board a merchant vessel, 'The Saint Louis.' I have been told so atthe navy department. It is all important that I should see him beforeanybody else. I take the express train of quarter past seven. To-morrow,I'll send you a telegram."

  The two ladies asked for something more, a hope, a word; but no, nothingmore! The old dealer had jumped into the carriage that had brought him,before they had recovered from their surprise; and they remained there,sitting before the fire, silent, their heads in their hands, each lostin conjectures. When the clock struck seven, the good widow was arousedfrom her grave thoughts, which seemed so different from her usualcheerful temper.

  "Come, come, Miss Henrietta," she said with somewhat forced gayety, "mybrother's departure does not condemn us, as far as I know, to starveourselves to death."

  She had gotten up as she said this. She set the table, and then sat downopposite to Henrietta, to their modest dinner. Modest it was, indeed,and still too abundant. They were both too much overcome to be able toeat; and yet both handled knife and fork, trying to deceive one another.Their thoughts were far away, in spite of all their efforts to keep themat home, and followed the traveller.

  "Now he has left," whispered Henrietta as it struck eight.

  "He is on his way already," replied the old lady.

  But neither of them knew anything of the journey from Paris toMarseilles. They were ignorant of the distances, the names of thestations, and even of the large cities through which the railroadpasses.

  "We must try and get a railway guide," said the good widow. And, quiteproud of her happy thought, she went out instantly, hurried to thenearest bookstore, and soon reappeared, flourishing triumphantly ayellow pamphlet, and saying,--

  "Now we shall see it all, my dear child."

  Then, placing the guide on the tablecloth between them, they looked forthe page containing the railway from Paris to Lyons and Marseilles, thenthe train which Papa Ravinet was to have taken; and they delighted incounting up how swiftly the "express" went, and all the stations whereit stopped.

  Then, when the table was cleared, instead of going industriously towork, as usually, they kept constantly looking at the clock, and, afterconsulting the book, said to each other,--

  "He is at Montereau now; he must be beyond Sens; he will soon be atTonnerre."

  A childish satisfaction, no doubt, and very idle. But who of us hasnot, at least once in his life, derived a wonderful pleasure, or perhapsunspeakable relief from impatience, or even grief, from following thusacross space a beloved one who was going away, or coming home? Towardsmidnight, however, the old lady remarked that it was getting late, andthat it would be wise to go to bed.

  "You think you will sleep, madam?" asked Henrietta, surprised.

  "No, my child; but"--

  "Oh! I, for my part,--_I_ could not sleep. This work on which we arebusy is very pressing, you say; why could we not finish it?"

  "Well, let us sit up then," said the good widow.

  The poor women, reduced as they were to conjectures by Papa Ravinet'slaconic answers, nevertheless knew full well that some great event wasin preparation, something unexpected, and yet decisive. What it was,they did not know; but they understood, or rather felt, that Daniel'sreturn would and must totally change the aspect of affairs. But wouldDaniel really come?

  "If he does come," said Henrietta, "why did they only the other day tellme, at the navy department, that he was not coming? Then, again, whyshould he come home in a merchant vessel, and not on board his frigate?"

  "Your letters have probably reached him at last," explained the oldlady; "and, as soon as he received them, he came home."

  Gradually, however, after having exhausted all conjectures, and afterhaving discussed all contingencies, Henrietta became silent. When itstruck half-past three, she said once more,--

  "Ah! M. Ravinet is at the Lyons station now."

  Then her hand became less and less active in drawing the worsted, herhead oscillated from side to side, and her eyelids closed unconsciously.Her old friend advised her to retire; and this time she did not refuse.

  It was past ten o'clock when she awoke; and upon entering, fullydressed, into the sitting-room, Mrs. Bertolle greeted her with theexclamation:--

  "At this moment my brother reaches Marseilles!"

  "Ah! then it will not be long before we shall have news," repliedHenrietta.

  But there are moments in which we think electricity the slowest ofmessengers. At two o'clock nothing had come; and the poor women began toaccuse the old dealer of having forgotten them, when, at last, the bellwas rung.

  It was really the telegraph messenger, with his black leather pouch. Theold lady signed her receipt with marvellous promptness; and, tearing theenvelope hastily open, she read,--

  Marseilles, 12.40 a.m.

  "Saint Louis" signalled by telegraph this morning. Will be in to-night.I hire boat to go and meet her, provided Champcey is on board. Thisevening telegram.

  Ravinet.

  "But this does not tell us any thing," said Henrietta, terriblydisappointed. "Just see, madam, _your_ brother is not even sure whetherM. Champcey is on board 'The Saint Louis.'"

  Perhaps Mrs. Bertolle, also, was a little disappointed; but she was notthe person to let it be seen.

  "But what did you expect, dear child? Anthony has not been an hour inMarseilles; how do you think he can know? We must wait till the evening.It is only a matter of a few hours."

  She said this very quietly; but all who have ever undergone the anguishof expectation will know how it becomes more and more intolerable as themoment approaches that is to bring the decision. However the old ladyendeavored to control her excitement, the calm and dignified woman couldnot long conceal the nervous fever that was raging within her. Ten timesduring the afternoon she opened the window, to look for--what? She couldnot have told it herself, as she well knew nothing could come as yet. Atnight she could not stay in any one place. She tried in vain to work onher embroidery; her fingers refused their service.

  At last, at ten minutes past nine, the telegraph man appeared, asimpassive as ever.

  This time it was Henrietta who had taken the despatch; and, beforeopening it, she had half a minute's fearful suspense, as if the paperhad contained the secret of her fate. Then, by a sudden impulse, tearingthe envelope, she read, almost at a glance,--

  Marseilles, 6.45 p.m.

  I have seen Champcey. All well; devoted to Henrietta. Return thisevening. Will be in Paris tomorrow evening at seven o'clock. Prepareyour trunks as if you were to start on a month's journey immediatelyafter my return. All is going well.

  Pale as death, and trembling like a leaf, but with open lips and brighteyes, Henrietta had sunk into a chair. Up to this moment she had doubtedevery thing. Up to this hour, until she held the proof in her hand, shehad not allowed herself to hope. Such great happiness does not seem tothe unhappy to be intended for them. But now she stammered out,--

  "Daniel is in France! Daniel! Nothing more to fear; the future is ours.I am safe now."

  But people do not die of joy; and, when she had recovered herequanimity, Henrietta understood how cruel she had been in theincoherent phrases that had escaped her in her excitement. She rose witha start, and, seizing Mrs. Bertolle's hand
s, said to her,--

  "Great God! what am I saying! Ah, you will pardon me, madam, I am sure;but I feel as if I did not know what I am doing. Safe! I owe it to youand your brother, if I am safe. Without you Daniel would find nothingof me but a cross at the cemetery, and a name stained and destroyed byinfamous calumnies."

  The old lady did not hear a word. She had picked up the despatch, hadread it; and, overcome by its contents, had sat down near the fireplace,utterly insensible to the outside world. The most fearful hatredconvulsed her ordinarily calm and gentle features; and pale, with closedteeth, and in a hoarse voice, she said over and over again,--

  "We shall be avenged."

  Most assuredly Henrietta did not find out only now that the old dealerand his sister hated her enemies, Sarah Brandon and Maxime de Brevan,mortally; but she had never seen that hatred break out so terribly asto-night. What had brought it about? This she could not fathom. PapaRavinet, it was evident, was not a nobody. Ill-bred and coarse inWater Street, amid the thousand articles of his trade, he became a verydifferent man as soon as he reached his sister's house. As to the WidowBertolle, she was evidently a woman of superior intellect and education.

  How had they both been reduced to this more than modest condition? Byreverses of fortune. That accounts for everything, but explains nothing.

  Such were Henrietta's thoughts, when the old lady roused her from hermeditations.

  "You saw, my dear child," she began saying, "that my brother desires usto be ready to set out on a long journey as soon as he comes home."

  "Yes, madam; and I am quite astonished."

  "I understand; but, although I know no more than you do of my brother'sintentions, I know that he does nothing without a purpose. We ought,therefore, in prudence, comply with his wishes."

  They agreed, therefore, at once on their arrangements; and the nextday Mrs. Bertolle went out to purchase whatever might benecessary,--ready-made dresses for Henrietta, shoes, and linen. Towardsfive o'clock in the afternoon, all the preparations of the old lady andthe young girl had been made; and all their things were carefully stowedaway in three large trunks. According to Papa Ravinet's despatch, theyhad only about two hours more to wait, three hours at the worst. Stillthey were out of their reckoning. It was half-past eight before the goodman arrived, evidently broken down by the long and rapid journey whichhe had just made.

  "At last!" exclaimed Mrs. Bertolle. "We hardly expected you any longerto-night."

  But he interrupted her, saying,--

  "Oh, my dear sister! don't you think I suffered when I thought of yourimpatience? But it was absolutely necessary I should show myself inWater Street."

  "You have seen Mrs. Chevassat?"

  "I come from her just now. She is quite at her ease. I am sure she hasnot the slightest doubt that Miss Ville-Handry has killed herself; andshe goes religiously every morning to the Morgue."

  Henrietta shuddered.

  "And M. de Brevan?" she asked.

  Papa Ravinet looked troubled.

  "Ah, I don't feel so safe there," he replied. "The man I had left incharge of him has foolishly lost sight of him."

  Then noticing the trunks, he said,--

  "But I am talking, and time flies. You are ready, I see. Let us go. Ihave a carriage at the door. We can talk on the way."

  When he noticed some reluctance in Henrietta's face, he added with akindly smile,--

  "You need not fear anything, Miss Henrietta; we are not going away fromM. Champcey, very far from it. Here, you see, he could not have cometwice without betraying the secret of your existence."

  "But where are we going?" asked Mrs. Bertolle.

  "To the Hotel du Louvre, dear sister, where you will take rooms for Mrs.and Miss Bertolle. Be calm; my plans are laid."

  Thereupon, he ran out on the staircase to call the concierge to help himin taking down the trunks.

  Although the manoeuvres required by Papa Ravinet's appearance on board"The Saint Louis" had taken but little time, the delay had been longenough to prevent the ship from going through all the formalities thatsame evening. She had, therefore, to drop anchor at some distance fromthe harbor, to the great disgust of the crew, who saw Marseilles allablaze before them, and who could count the wineshops, and hear thesongs of the half-drunken people as they walked down the wharves inmerry bands.

  The least unhappy of them all was, for once, Daniel. The terribleexcitement he had undergone had given way to utter prostration. Hisnerves, strained to the utmost, relaxed; and he felt the delight of aman who can at last throw down a heavy burden which he has long borneon his shoulders. Papa Ravinet had given him no details; but he did notregret it, he hardly noticed it. He knew positively that his Henriettawas alive; that she was in safety; and that she still loved him. Thatwas enough.

  "Well, lieutenant," said Lefloch, delighted at his master's joy, "did Inot tell you? Good wind during the passage always brings good news uponlanding."

  That night, while "The Saint Louis" was rocking lazily over her anchors,was the first night, since Daniel had heard of Count Ville-Handry'smarriage, that he slept with that sweet sleep given by hope. He was onlyaroused by the noise of the people who came in the quarantine boat;and, when he came on deck, he found that there was nothing any longer toprevent his going on shore. The men had been actively engaged ever sinceearly in the morning, to set things right aloft and below, so as to"dress" "The Saint Louis;" for every ship, when it enters port, isdecked out gayly, and carefully conceals all traces of injuries she hassuffered, like the carrier-pigeon, which, upon returning to his nestafter a storm, dries and smooths his feathers in the sun.

  Soon the anchors were got up again; and the great clock on the wharfstruck twelve, when Daniel jumped on the wharf at Marseilles, followedby his faithful man, and dazzled by the most brilliant sunlight. Ah!when he felt his foot once more standing on the soil of France, whencea vile plot had driven him long ago, his eyes flashed, and a threateninggesture boded ill to his enemies. It looked as if he were saying tothem,--

  "Here I am, and my vengeance will be terrible!"

  Neither his joy nor his excitement, however, could make him forget theapprehensions of Papa Ravinet, although he thought they were eccentric,and very much exaggerated. That a spy should be waiting for him in theharbor, concealed in this busy, noisy crowd, to follow his track, andreport his minutest actions,--this seemed to him, if not impossible, atleast very improbable.

  Nevertheless, he determined to ascertain the fact. Instead, therefore,of simply following the wharf, of going up Canebiere Street, and turningto the right on his way to the Hotel du Luxembourg, he went throughseveral narrow streets, turning purposely every now and then. When hereached the hotel, he was compelled to acknowledge that the old dealerhad acted wisely.

  A big fellow, dark complexioned, and wicked looking, had followed thesame route as he, always keeping some thirty yards behind him. The manwho thus watched him, with his nose in the air and his hands in hispockets, hardly suspected the danger which he ran by practising hisprofession within reach of Lefloch. The idea of being tracked put theworthy sailor into a red-hot fury; and he proposed nothing less than to"run foul" of the spy, and make an end of him for good.

  "I can do it in a second," he assured his master. "I just go up to him,without making him aware of my presence. _I_ seize him by his cravat;I give him two turns, like that--and good-night. He won't track anybodyagain."

  Daniel had to use all his authority to keep him back, and found it stillharder to convince him of the necessity to let the scamp not know thathe had been discovered.

  "Besides," he added, "it is not proved yet that we are really watched;it may be merely a curious coincidence."

  "That may be so," growled Lefloch.

  But they could no longer doubt, when, just before dinner, as they lookedout of the window, they saw the same man pass the hotel. At night theysaw him again at the depot; and he took the same express train of9.45 for Paris, in which they went. They recognized him in therefreshment-r
oom at Lyons. And the first person they saw as they got outat Paris was the same man.

  But Daniel did not mind the spy. He had long since forgotten him. Hethought of nothing but the one fact that he was in the same town nowwith Henrietta. Too impatient to wait for his trunks, he left Leflochin charge, and jumped into a cab, promising the driver two dollars if hewould go as fast as he could to the Hotel du Louvre. For such pay, thelean horses of any cab become equal to English thoroughbreds; and inthree-quarters of an hour Daniel was installed in his room at the hotel,and waited with anxiety the return of the waiter. Now that he was reallyhere, a thousand doubts assailed him: "Had he understood Papa Ravinetcorrectly? Had the good old man given him the right directions? Mightthey not, excited as they both were, have easily made a mistake?"

  "In less than a quarter of an hour after your arrival," Papa Ravinet hadsaid to Daniel, "you shall have news."

  Less than a quarter of an hour! It seemed to Daniel as if he had been aneternity in this room. Thinking that Henrietta might possibly occupy aroom on the same floor with him, on the same side of the house, that hemight even be separated from her only by a partition-wall, he felt likecursing Papa Ravinet, when there came a knock at the door.

  "Come in!" he cried.

  A waiter appeared, and handed him a visiting-card, on which was written,"Mrs. Bertolle, third story. No. 5."

  As the waiter did not instantly disappear, Daniel said almostfuriously,--

  "Did I not tell you it was all right?"

  He did not want the man to see his excitement, the most intenseexcitement he had ever experienced in all his life. His hands shook; hefelt a burning sensation in his throat; his knees gave way under him. Helooked at himself in the glass, and was startled; he looked deadly pale.

  "Am I going to be ill?" he thought.

  On the table stood a carafe with water. He filled a large glass, anddrank it at one draught; this made him feel better, and he went out.But, once outside, he was so overcome, that he lost his way in the longpassages and interminable staircases, in spite of the directions hung upat every turn, and had finally to ask a waiter, who pointed out a doorwhich he had passed half a dozen times, and said,--

  "That is No. 5."

  He knocked gently, and the door opened instantly, as if somebody hadbeen standing behind it, ready to open it promptly. As he entered, hetottered, and, almost in a mist, saw on his right side Papa Ravinet andan old lady, then, farther back, near the window, Henrietta.

  He uttered a cry, and went forward. But as quickly she bounded to meethim, casting both arms around his neck, and leaning upon his bosom,sobbing and stammering,--

  "Daniel, Daniel! At last!"