CHAPTER LXXXII.
THE HUSBAND AND THE LOVER.
It was with no inconsiderable emotion that Chicot again recognized LaRue des Augustins, so quiet and deserted, the angle formed by the blockof houses which preceded his own, and lastly, his own dear house itself,with its triangular roof, its worm-eaten balcony, and its guttersornamented with waterspouts.
He had been so terribly afraid that he should find nothing but an emptyspace in the place of the house, and had so strongly suspected that heshould see the street blackened by the smoke of a conflagration, thatthe street and the house appeared to him miracles of neatness,loveliness, and splendor.
Chicot had concealed the key of his beloved house in the hollow of astone which served as the base of one of the columns by which hisbalcony was supported. At the period we are now writing about, any kindof key belonging to a chest or piece of furniture equaled in weight andsize the very largest keys of our houses of the present day; the doorkeys, therefore, following the natural proportions, were equal in sizeto the keys of our modern cities.
Chicot had consequently calculated the difficulty which his pocket wouldhave in accommodating the heavy key, and he accordingly determined tohide it in the spot we have indicated.
Chicot, therefore, it must be confessed, felt a slight shudder creepingover him as he plunged his fingers in the hollow of the stone; thisshudder was succeeded by a feeling of the most unmixed delight when thecold of the iron met his hand, for the key was really and truly in thespot where he had left it.
It was precisely the same with regard to the furniture in the first roomhe came to; the same, too, with the small board which he had nailed tothe joist; and lastly, the same with the thousand crowns, which werestill slumbering in their oaken hiding-place.
Chicot was not a miser; quite the contrary, indeed: he had veryfrequently thrown gold about broadcast, thereby allowing the ideal totriumph over the material, which is the philosophy of every man who isof any value; but no sooner had the mind momentarily ceased to exerciseits influence over matter--in other words, whenever money was no longerneeded, nor sacrifice requisite--whenever, in a word, the sensestemporarily regained their influence over Chicot's mind, and wheneverhis mind allowed the body to live and to take enjoyment, gold, thatprincipal, that unceasing, that eternal source of animal delights,reassumed its value in our philosopher's eyes, and no one knew betterthan he did into how many delicious particles that inestimable totalitywhich people call a crown is subdivided.
"Ventre de biche!" murmured Chicot, sitting down in the middle of hisroom, after he had removed the flagstone, and with the small piece ofboard by his side, and his treasure under his eyes, "ventre de biche!that excellent young man is a most invaluable neighbor, for he has madeothers respect my money, and has himself respected it too; in sobertruth, such an action is wonderful in such times as the present.Mordieux! I owe some thanks to that excellent young fellow, and he shallhave them this evening."
Thereupon Chicot replaced the plank over the joist, the flagstone overthe plank, approached the window, and looked toward the opposite side ofthe street.
The house still retained that gray and somber aspect which theimagination bestows as their natural color upon buildings whosecharacter it seems to know.
"It cannot yet be their time for retiring to rest," said Chicot; "andbesides, those fellows, I am sure, are not very sound sleepers; so letus see."
He descended his staircase, crossed the road--forming, as he did so, hisfeatures into their most amiable and gracious expression--and knocked athis neighbor's door.
He remarked the creaking of the staircase, the sound of a hurriedfootstep, and yet he waited long enough to feel warranted in knockingagain.
At this fresh summons the door opened, and the outline of a man appearedin the gloom.
"Thank you, and good-evening," said Chicot, holding out his hand; "hereI am back again, and I am come to return you my thanks, my dearneighbor."
"I beg your pardon," inquiringly observed a voice, in a tone ofdisappointment, the accent of which greatly surprised Chicot.
At the same moment the man who had opened the door drew back a step ortwo.
"Stay, I have made a mistake," said Chicot, "you were not my neighborwhen I left, and yet I know who you are."
"And I know you too," said the young man.
"You are Monsieur le Vicomte Ernanton de Carmainges."
"And you are 'The Shade.'"
"Really," said Chicot, "I am quite bewildered."
"Well, and what do you want, monsieur?" inquired the young man, somewhatchurlishly.
"Excuse me, but I am interrupting you, perhaps, my dear monsieur?"
"No, only you will allow me to ask you what you may want."
"Nothing, except that I wished to speak to the master of this house."
"Speak, then."
"What do you mean?"
"I am the master of the house, that is all."
"You? since when, allow me to ask?"
"Diable! since the last three days."
"Good! the house was for sale then?"
"So it would seem, since I have bought it."
"But the former proprietor?"
"No longer lives here, as you see."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"Come, come, let us understand each other," said Chicot.
"There is nothing I should like better," replied Ernanton, with visibleimpatience, "only let us do so without losing any time."
"The former proprietor was a man between five-and-twenty and thirtyyears of age, but who looked as if he were forty."
"No; he was a man of about sixty-five or sixty-six years old, who lookedhis age quite."
"Bald?"
"No, on the contrary, a perfect forest of white hair."
"With an enormous scar on the left side of the head, had he not?"
"I did not observe the scar, but I did a good number of furrows."
"I cannot understand it at all," said Chicot.
"Well," resumed Ernanton, after a moment's silence, "what did you wantwith that man, my dear Monsieur l'Ombre?"
Chicot was on the point of acknowledging what had just happened;suddenly, however, the mystery of the surprise which Ernanton hadexhibited, reminded him of a certain proverb very dear to all discreetpeople.
"I wished to pay him a neighborly visit," he said, "that is all."
In this way, Chicot did not tell a falsehood, and yet admitted nothing.
"My dear monsieur," said Ernanton politely, but reducing considerablythe opening of the door which he held half-closed, "I regret I am unableto give you more precise information."
"Thank you, monsieur," said Chicot, "I must look elsewhere, then."
"But," continued Ernanton, as he gradually closed the door, "that doesnot interfere with my congratulating myself upon the chance which hasbrought me again into personal communication with you."
"You would like to see me at the devil, I believe," murmured Chicot, ashe returned bow for bow.
However, as, notwithstanding this mental reply, Chicot, in hispreoccupation, forgot to withdraw, Ernanton, shutting his face betweenthe door and the doorway, said to him:
"I wish you a very good-evening, monsieur."--"One moment, Monsieur deCarmainges," said Chicot.
"Monsieur, I exceedingly regret I am unable to wait," replied Ernanton,"but the fact is, I am expecting some one who will come and knock atthis very door, and this person will be angry with me if I do not showthe greatest possible discretion in receiving him."
"That is quite sufficient, monsieur, I understand," said Chicot; "I amsorry to have been so importunate, and I now retire."--"Adieu, dearMonsieur l'Ombre."
"Adieu, excellent Monsieur Ernanton."
And as Chicot drew back a step, he saw the door quietly shut in hisface.
He listened to satisfy himself if the suspicious young man was watchinghis departure, but he heard Ernanton's footsteps as he ascended thestaircase; Chicot could t
herefore return to his own house withoutuneasiness, and shut himself up in it, thoroughly determined not tointerfere with his new neighbor's habits, but, in accordance with hisusual custom, equally resolved not to lose sight of him altogether.
In fact, Chicot was not a man to slumber on a circumstance which, in hisopinion, seemed to be important, without having handled and dissectedit, with the patience of a first-rate anatomist; in spite of all hecould do (and it was a privilege or defect of his organization), everymaterial impression that his mind received presented itself foranalysis, by its most prominent features, in such a manner that poorChicot's brain suffered considerably on account of such peculiarity,called upon as it was for an immediate investigation of its master'sthought.
Chicot, whose mind up to that moment had been occupied with that phraseof the Duc de Guise's letter, namely, "I entirely approve of your planwith regard to the Forty-five," consequently abandoned that phrase, theexamination of which he promised himself to return to at a later period,in order that he might forthwith thoroughly exhaust this fresh subjectof preoccupation, which had just taken the place of the older one.
Chicot reflected, that nothing could possibly be more singular than thefact of Ernanton installing himself, as if he were its master, in thatmysterious house whose inhabitants had suddenly disappeared.
And the more so, since to these original inhabitants a phrase of the Ducde Guise's letter relative to the Duc d'Anjou might possibly have somereference.
That was a chance which deserved attentive consideration, and Chicotwas in the habit of believing in providential chances.
He developed, even, whenever he was begged to do so, some very ingenioustheories on the subject.
The basis of these theories was an idea, which, in our opinion, wasquite as good as any other; it was as follows:
Chance is a kind of reserve held in bond by the Deity. Heaven nevercommunicates that reserve except in momentous circumstances,particularly since He has observed that men are sagacious enough tostudy and foresee the chances which may befall them in accordance withnatural causes and regularly organized principles of existence.
Moreover, Heaven likes to counteract the combinations of those proudmembers of the human race whose pride in by-gone times He has alreadypunished by drowning them, and whose future pride He surely will punishin destroying them by fire.
Heaven, therefore we say, or Chicot said, Heaven is pleased tocounteract the combinations of those proud and haughty human beings bymeans with which they are unacquainted, and whose intervention theycannot foresee.
This theory, as may be perceived, includes some very specious arguments,and might possibly furnish some very brilliant theses; but the reader,anxious, as Chicot was, to know what Carmainges' object was in thathouse, will feel obliged to us by tracing the development of them.
Chicot, accordingly, began to think, that it was strange to see Ernantonin the very house where he bad seen Remy.
He considered it was strange for two reasons; the first, because of theperfect ignorance in which the two men lived with respect to each other,which led to the supposition that there must have been an intermediarybetween them unknown to Chicot; and the second reason, because the housemust have been sold to Ernanton, who possessed no means of purchasingit.
"It is true," said Chicot, as he installed himself as comfortably as hecould on his gutter, which was his usual place of observation; "it istrue that the young man pretends he is expecting a visit, and that thevisit is from a lady; in these days, ladies are wealthy, and allowthemselves an indulgence in fancies of all kinds. Ernanton is handsome,young, and graceful; Ernanton has taken some one's fancy, a rendezvoushas been arranged, and he has been directed to purchase this house; hehas bought the house, and she has accepted the rendezvous.
"Ernanton," continued Chicot, "lives at court; it must be some ladybelonging to the court, then, with whom he has this affair. Poor fellow,will he love her? Heaven preserve him from such a thing! he is going tofall headlong into that gulf of perdition. Very good! ought I not toread him a moral lecture thereupon?
"A moral lecture, which would be both useless and absurd, doubly so theformer, and tenfold the latter.
"Useless, because he won't understand it, and, even if he did understandit, would refuse to listen to it.
"Absurd, because I should be doing far better to go to bed, and to thinka little about that poor Borromee.
"On this latter subject," continued Chicot, who had suddenly becomethoughtful, "I perceive one thing; namely, that remorse does not exist,and is only a relative feeling; the fact is, I do not feel any remorseat all for having killed Borromee, since the manner in which Monsieur deCarmainges' affair occupies my mind makes me forget that I have killedthe man; and if he, on his side, had nailed me to the table as I nailedhim to the wainscot, he would certainly have had no more remorse than Ihave about it myself, at the present moment."
Chicot had reached so far in his reasonings, his inductions, and hisphilosophy, which had consumed a good hour and a half altogether, whenhe was drawn from his train of thought by the arrival of a litterproceeding from the direction of the inn of the "Brave Chevalier."
This litter stopped at the threshold of the mysterious house.
A veiled lady alighted from it, and disappeared within the door whichErnanton held half open.
"Poor fellow!" murmured Chicot, "I was not mistaken; and it was indeeda lady he was waiting for, and so now I shall go to bed."
Whereupon Chicot rose, but remained motionless, although standing up.
"I am mistaken," he said, "I shall not be able to go to sleep; but Imaintain what I was saying, that if I don't sleep it will not be remorsewhich will prevent me, it will be curiosity; and that is so true what Isay in that respect, that if I remain here in my observatory, my mindwill only be occupied about one thing, and that is to learn which of ournoble ladies honors the handsome Ernanton with her affection.
"Far better, then, to remain where I am; since, if I went to bed, Ishould certainly get up again to return here."
And thereupon Chicot resumed his seat.
An hour had nearly passed away without our being able to state whetherChicot was engaged in thinking of the unknown lady or Borromee, orwhether he was occupied by curiosity or tormented by feelings ofremorse, when he fancied he heard the gallop of a horse at the end ofthe street.
Such was indeed the case, for soon after a cavalier, wrapped in hiscloak, made his appearance.
The cavalier drew up in the middle of the street, and seemed to belooking about him to see where he was.
The cavalier then perceived the group which was formed by the litter andits bearers.
He drove his horse against them. He was armed, for the rattling of hissword against his spurs could be distinctly heard.
The bearers of the litter seemed desirous of barring his passage, but headdressed a few words to them in a low tone of voice, and not only didthey withdraw with every mark of respect, but one of them, as he sprangto the ground from his horse, even received the bridle from his hand.The unknown advanced toward the door and knocked loudly.
"Well," said Chicot, "I was right in remaining, after all; mypresentiments, which told me that something was going to take place,have not deceived me. Here is the husband, poor Ernanton; we shallpresently be witness of something serious.
"If, however, it be the husband he is very kind to announce his returnin so riotous a manner."
Notwithstanding the magisterial manner in which the unknown thundered atthe door, some hesitation seemed to be shown in opening it.
"Open!" cried he who was knocking.
"Open! open!" repeated the bearers.
"There is no doubt it is the husband," resumed Chicot; "he hasthreatened the men that he will have them whipped or hanged, and theyhave declared themselves on his side.
"Poor Ernanton, he will be flayed alive.
"Oh! oh! I shall not suffer such a thing, however," added Chicot.
"For in fact," he resume
d, "he assisted me; and consequently, when anopportunity presents itself, I ought to help him. And it seems to methat the opportunity has now arrived, or it never will do so."
Chicot was resolute and generous, and curious into the bargain; heunfastened his long sword, placed it under his arm, and hurriedly randown the staircase.
He could open his door noiselessly, which is an indispensable piece ofknowledge for any one who may wish to listen with advantage.
Chicot glided under the balcony, then behind a pillar, and waited.
Hardly had he installed himself there, when the door opposite was openedimmediately the unknown had whispered a word through the keyhole, andyet he did not venture beyond the threshold.
A moment afterward the lady appeared within the doorway.
She took hold of the cavalier's arm, who led her to the litter, closedthe door of it, and then mounted his horse.
"There is no doubt on the subject," said Chicot, "it is the husband, agood-natured fellow of a husband after all, since he does not think itworth his while to explore the house in order to be revenged on myfriend Carmainges."
The litter then moved off, the cavalier walking his horse beside thedoor of it.
"Pardieu!" said Chicot, "I must follow those people and learn who theyare, and where they are going; I shall at all events draw some solidcounsel from my discovery for my friend Carmainges."
Chicot accordingly followed the cortege, observing the precaution,however, of keeping in the shadow of the walls, and taking care that thenoise made by the footsteps of the men and of the horses should renderthe sound of his own inaudible.
Chicot's surprise was by no means slight when he saw the litter stop atthe door of the "Brave Chevalier."
Almost immediately afterward, as if some one had been on the watch, thedoor was opened.
The lady, still veiled, alighted; entered and mounted to the turret, thewindow of the first story of which was lighted.
The husband followed her, both being respectfully preceded by DameFournichon, who carried a flambeau in her hand.
"Decidedly," said Chicot, crossing his arms on his chest, "I cannotunderstand a single thing of the whole affair."