CHAPTER II.
The candles were already lighted, when Edmond stood before a largehouse, undecided if he should enter or not; "she has company again, thesame as ever," said he to himself; "and how shall I in my dustyshooting-dress present myself among well-dressed ladies? However, sheis kind and indulgent, I am at a distance from home, the strangers tooare already accustomed to this in me." He ascended and laid down hisgun and pouch in the anti-chamber, the servant ushered him in, and hefound only a small circle, the young lady's two old aunts and a fewyounger ladies of the town of Nismes, established at two card tablesand entertained, as usual, by an old Captain. They were relating to oneanother the defeat of the Camisards on the preceding day, and how theyhad assembled again, and how their leaders had escaped.
"Where is the Lady Christine?" asked Edmond of the Lady de Courtenai.
"My niece," replied the lady, "is within there, indisposed as she says:her capricious fits have returned again, and no one can make anythingof her; perhaps you may be able to enliven her, or perhaps she is sad,because the Marshal is not yet come."
Edward passed into the adjoining room, the door of which stood open, itwas lighted up, and there, on a sofa with tearfraught eyes sat the LadyChristine; her lute lay negligently on her arm, as if she would haveplayed, but she was so deeply plunged in thought, that she started upterrified, when Edmond greeted her and inquired after her health."Lady, dearest," he exclaimed, "what is the matter with you? I havenever yet seen you thus!"
"Not thus?" said Christine, looking wildly, and with a smile ofbitterness, "and why not, it is thus indeed I should ever be! Only youdo not know, nor understand me; you will not understand me!"
Edmond drew back bewildered; "how shall I interpret these words?"
"As you will, or rather as you can."
"Explain yourself," said the young man; "you have been weeping, youappear ill."
"All this is of great importance, is it not?" said she with apassionate movement.
"How have I offended you?" asked Edmond with sympathy, "it almostappears as if I had: are you mortified by me? I do not know myselfguilty in anything; what is it then in the name of all the saints?"
"That you are a man!" said Christine, while her pale cheeks glowed withthe deepest crimson.
"Well! really," said Edmond, "this transgression is so new, that I knownot how to answer. Is this the amiable Christine of Castelnau, who thusgreets her friend, who"--
"Amiable!" cried she passionately--"what do you call thus, ye friends?the bad, the wretched, the worthless of this world, with which we coverour naked misery as with torn purple rags from the worn out, fadedwardrobes of former times, when there were yet clothes, and ornamentand men?--or has the world been always thus miserable?"--she threw thelute from her as if it terrified her. "This is also one of thedeplorable customs, that we should warble and play, and make grimaces,though our hearts were to break, in case a particle of heart throb yetwithin us."
"You are ill," exclaimed Edmond, "so ill, that I shall run immediatelyto our friend Vila;" "Stop," said Christine, and while they were stilldisputing, an equipage quickly rattled up; all arose in the first room,it was the Marshal of Montrevel, who in his dress-uniform steppedlightly and gracefully out of the carriage and bounded up the stairs,and while the folding doors were thrown open, and the ladies andgentlemen in the room formed a respectful line, he greeted them allwith the most polite condescension, "Good evening ladies," said hekindly, "I rejoice to see you all well; Captain, Mr. Counsellor, yourservant; ah, my young friend," turning to Edmond, "you are here veryoften; but where is our amiable hostess?"
"She too is not far," said Christine, coming forward.
"And well?" asked the Marshal; "certainly this charming serenity, thisgrace, these divine talents, how could it be otherwise?--I hope ladiesthat you will not disturb yourselves; let us all sit down and play, orconverse as best it may seem."
He laid aside his sword and plumed hat, and with obliging promptitudeplaced an armchair near the fire-place for the lady Christine; he tooka footstool and sat on it at her feet, Edmond leaned over the back ofher chair and the rest of the company resumed their play. "At yourfeet, loveliest of women," began the Marshal, "must I find again thepeace and tranquillity, which deserted me to-day: yes, this day is oneof the most unfortunate of my life!" "Have the Camisards penetratedinto Nismes?" asked Christine.
"They will never do that," replied the Marshal smiling, "means havebeen taken to prevent it; these miserable men will soon have sung theirlast song. Yesterday they were as good as annihilated, and we shouldhave given them the rout here near Nages, if treachery and wickednesshad not, as usual, rendered our best efforts abortive."
"Certainly," said Edmond, "if the people were unanimous in theirexertions to extirpate them, the best part would have been achieved."
"Young man," rejoined the Marshal, "I will annihilate them even withoutthe assistance of the people, for these associations composed ofcitizens, and peasants to oppose them, are more injurious than useful,these men understand neither service nor war, they rather call forththe vigour and insolence of the rebels, the soldier alone can put themdown. How unfortunate has it turned out with the good hermit ofSaumiere! he is said to have been completely defeated, and at lastdrowned."
Edmond related what he knew of the affair, and the Marshal saidsmilingly; "I can easily imagine the anxiety of the old boy; but tocontinue: an old Camisard, a squinting, bald-headed man passed over tous, he was well acquainted with all the secret passes of the mountains;I think his name is Favart; he promised to deliver into our hands theleader Cavalier, and his principal troop, together with the infamousCatinat; we find the matter as he has announced it; the Lord ofBasville had through kindness for the wretched man, taken him into hisservice as gamekeeper; and whether it is, that he has not been able toconquer his old attachment to the rebels, or that he himself did notknow all precisely: the rebel leaders with a numerous troop haveescaped us again, and Cavalier has, as I have just learned from acourier, defeated a considerable body of our people in the mountainsnot far from St. Hypolite."
"I know Favart," said Christine, "he was in our service for a longwhile; a wild but otherwise good man; I am only surprised that he couldhave again abandoned his sect. But is this the misfortune that youbewail so much, Marshal?" "No, beauteous lady," said the Lord ofMontrevel, "such things which are mere trifles to a real soldier cannotdisconcert me, I should blush for myself, if the common accidents ofthe field or of life could ruffle my temper."
"Your beloved then is become faithless? console yourself, there stillremain enough for you," said the young lady drily.
"Ah, sly one!" said the Marshal, holding up his finger threateningly;"yes, enchantress, if you feel and return my flame, if you only believein it, then would I consider this gloomy day as the happiest of mylife, and to me all the rest of womankind on earth would be asnothing." He declined all the refreshments presented to him by theservants: "This is a fast day for me," he continued, "and I have notyet been permitted to dine to-day."
"You are too severe," said Christine, "too orthodox, too devout;moreover, I do not recollect that this is a fast day."
"It is not that," said the general solemnly; "for, at times, one maybreak this fast without any great qualms of conscience; but there arethings which are not really connected with the church or herordinances, but which lie in nature, and on that account are moredeeply engraven on our hearts; things which many philosophers, as wellas ecclesiastics censure as prejudice and superstition, and whichnevertheless have, through the implicit faith of millions, beentransmitted to us from the remotest times, and from that verycircumstance possess, yes, I may so express myself, a revered, a holyauthority. These signs and tokens of a dark futurity, the immediatevoice, as it were, of fate, speaks so much the more thrillingly to usas they appear to the dull eye only ridiculous or, at least,insignificant, and as every man has his protecting genius, so has healso all the signs, which are peculiarly sui
ted to him, and which areof the highest importance, if he attends to them and knows how to applyto himself their signification."
"Excellent!" exclaimed the Lady, "now I listen to you willingly, for ifthe hero is at the same time a philosopher, I like him all the betterfor it."
"Most bewitching of your sex!" said Montrevel while he attempted tokiss her hand, which she hastily snatched from his lips. "Being then ofthis belief," said the Marshal, "you may judge of my horror as I satto-day at table,--the Lord of Basville to whom, on account of hisstation, this attention is due, sat near me, my aide-de-camp and a fewofficers,--dinner is announced, the plates are changed,--but, my sightbecomes again obscured when I think of it."--
"For heaven's sake," said Edmond, "what is it? assuredly some dreadfulwickedness of the rebels, fire-brands and murder, or poison."--"No,young man," continued the Marshal, somewhat tranquillized, "againstsuch things I am secure,--my Fleury, the luckless man, my valet, who inother respects is cleverness and dexterity itself, this man at a signfrom me (for he only waits upon me and therefore the affair is the moreincomprehensible) was handing the salt, and while I was taking it, heentirely upset the saltcellar before me; a mist came over my eyes, Iwas compelled to go to bed, having discharged my valet, and come hereto find consolation and tranquillity."
Edmond, who turned away with the greater shame and vexation, the morehe had been excited by the narrative; could not sustain the fieryregards of the Marshal, who, in seeking to arouse sympathy, fixed hiseyes steadfastly upon him and Christine. The latter veryunceremoniously burst into a loud and hearty fit of laughter, while shelooked at Edmond almost maliciously.
"Well, really! madam," began the Marshal, "this treatment is the moreunexpected, as I am unaccustomed to it from you; if such things canmake you merry, you think too slightly of the happiness, or unhappinessof your friend."
"Not so indeed," said Christine, "besides I am not particularly merry,I think the tale very edifying and dare be sworn, that the woman andchildren, whom early this morning you so serenely caused to be shot,also upset the saltcellar in their hut yesterday evening, but you arenow free from all these accidents, is it not so Marshal?"
"Is it permitted to ask," said Edmond modestly, "what the affair is?"
"Early this morning," said the Marshal more composedly, "I was compelledto sacrifice a few of these unhappy people to the law, for they wouldhave sent provisions to the rebels in the mountains."
"The investigation was somewhat precipitate," said Christine, "not muchregard was paid to the denial of the persons arrested; it is true therewas some probability, for the mother had a son among the rebels, whomay have often enough suffered hunger. She was a woman of forty yearsof age with two children, one twelve and the other eight years old.They were led through this street."
"But not the children?" said Edmond turning pale.
The Marshal shrugged up his shoulders and answered lightly, "we mustenforce with severity our self-appointed laws, in order to terrify;they could not themselves shew why they were on the by-road; for thatthey still would have gathered fruit is incredible."
"This mother," interrupted the lady, "with her younger children wereseeking for some beans, they were found in the fields by a party ofsoldiers, terror prevented them from replying quickly to theirquestions,--and this noble marshal, this gay, gallant, amiable man,this _bel esprit_, who writes verses, beats his enemies and makesnetting, this tender-hearted man who sheds tears if I suffer fromheadache, this hateful monster caused mother and children to be shot,while he blows a feather from his uniform with infinite grace!"
"Lady!" screamed the Marshal starting up, Edmond stepped back, thefootstool was upset and the whole company rose from their card-tablesat this sudden uproar.
"Is it not true," said Christine passionately while she stood in themiddle of the room, "that such conduct is great, heroic and noble? haveour enlightened times come, that we should experience such things? oh,monster! dare you mention the words friendship and love? have you thearrogance to wish to pass for estimable and benevolent? yes, you arealso a contemptible creature like your despicable associates, yet youmust have felt, seen, or in your dreams at least experienced what adark destiny poverty, sorrow, necessity, and holy compassion is, thesedestitute parents, these hungry children; the mother, who with scantyand meagre food entered her hut, how their eyes sought hersimploringly; how her glance of consolation shone in the eyes of herchildren; how the small supply spread a heaven of tranquil abundanceand mutual love! Had you but the eye of an imprisoned swallow; had youonly understood your dog when he begs some crumbs from you: you wouldhave trampled your cross of honour under foot rather than have donethat deed. Man only can sink so low; the beast which tears itself isgentle and innocent; a spark of ancient heaven shines still brighter inits savage state than in our more degenerate nature. There are talesfor children in which a timid girl is made to kiss a scaly dragon inorder to disenchant him; but I could caress the tiger, extend my handand offer my lips to the hideous hyena, rather than polute myself bybeing friendly towards you, for I should fear from a woman to betransformed into a dragon. And yet,--as they passed here, exchangingfarewell glances, these children, who yet knew nothing of life, andwere slaughtered at this tender age--it was indeed as if the lastjudgment with all its terrors burst upon my heart; behold, I could havekissed the dust from your and your executioner's shoes in the publicstreets, only to have saved them! I flew to you, I found you not. Yes,most assuredly, all that was felt in those bitter moments by thesewretched creatures is now changed for them into peace and blessedness;yes, they have forgotten this life and you, if we do not madly pray toa tyrant instead of to the God of goodness."
"You are mad yourself, miserable woman," exclaimed the Marshalvehemently, "to forget yourself thus--by heaven! you should be shut upin a madhouse. But, by my honour, you shall never see me again."
"Never! never!" cried Christine, with flashing eyes, "Oh, already thisis happiness and gain! no, great hero, never, or if you should feel adesire to come, a large vessel filled with salt shall be upset at yourfeet, as people strew salt over the places where the cursed havedwelt."
The Marshal trembled so violently with rage, that he was not able togird on his sword; he took it under his arm and left the house withoututtering a single word. The captain had already slipped away, when theconversation took this unexpected turn; the aunts curtesied, mutuallyembarrassed, and retired also, as their niece paid no attention tothem; the latter made a sign to the servants to withdraw, and releasedand exhausted, she fell prostrate on the ground, while tears burst fromher eyes so unrestrainedly, as if she would thus weeping pass away andexpire.
Edmond, much embarrassed, drew near, she saw him not, he spoke a fewwords, but she heard him not. "Dearest," he exclaimed at length, "youkill me, you kill yourself! these powerful shocks will destroy yourconstitution." "And were it not as well?" said she in a feeble voice,without restraining her tears, "look on me, here on the ground, weepwith me; all good men should now perish." "Rise, lady," said Edmond,while he assisted her, "if I must not believe that your reason hasdeserted you."
"It has certainly suffered," said she somewhat tranquillised, while shestood by him, and continued, "otherwise would I have seen and enduredthese things as others do: it is even so, I have had a glance of thesorrows of the world and of the enormity of mankind and can never morejest and smile with them as formerly, I am awakened from the mockexistence and therefore you consider me mad; but you, Edmond, you,among so many, should have known me better!"
"I am yet as in a dream," said Edmond, "how could you thus give way toyour grief, how so rudely wound the feelings of the Marshal, eventhough you were in the right? I no longer recognise you, although I amacquainted with you for more than a year. You were never thus."
"Always Edmond," sobbed she, "never otherwise, only that my grief hasburst out too violently. Why do you not understand me? Is your heartincased in some hard metal that no feeling can penetrate it? Do notbelieve that, on that account
, I have neglected my mass or vesper toimplore the God of mercy to enlighten these wretches and to succourthese poor persecuted creatures, and that he may also strengthenmyself? Mark me, Edmond, although I do not belong to the community ofHuguenots, but if all these murderers were extirpated in a second byone tremendous blow, our church should institute a festival ofthanksgiving that this stigma was removed from her, and her holy bannerwould be no more dishonoured."
"I understand you now," said Edmond.--They had stepped into theantechamber, "by heaven, I shall soon give up all society and ratherhold communion with stones than with men." He took his gun indignantlyfrom the wall, "How wild, Edmond, how obstinate," said she softly, "isit then not permitted that men should understand, in love at least,their confused Babilonean language? disembodied spirits only love--andyou say indeed that I have a place in your heart!"
"Love!" exclaimed Edmond, "accursed word! execrable equivocation andmadness of mankind! this old misunderstanding, love, this detestableriddle of the sphynx, that no one has unriddled and for which thousandshave bled--damnation!" He gnashed his teeth and dashed his gun on theground, so that it went off and the shot passed through the ceiling.The women and servants of the Lady Christine hastened towards her; helooked at her, she was not injured and smiled at him sorrowfully as herushed out of the door and to his parting salute only answered by astrange shake of the head, so that her dark tresses were loosened andshaded her face. She pressed them to her weeping eyes and went silentlyto the garden and out into the fresh night air.