CHAPTER XLIX. THE TEST.
Dagobert was right in defending his children, as he paternally calledRose and Blanche, and yet the apprehensions of the marshal with regardto the coldness of his daughters, were unfortunately justified byappearances. As he had told his father, unable to explain the sad,and almost trembling embarrassment, which his daughters felt in hispresence, he sought in vain for the cause of what he termed theirindifference. Now reproaching himself bitterly for not concealing fromthem his grief at the death of their mother, he feared he might havegiven them to understand that they would be unable to console him; nowsupposing that he had not shown himself sufficiently tender, and thathad chilled them with his military sternness; and now repeating withbitter regret, that, having always lived away from them, he must bealways a stranger to them. In a word, the most unlikely suppositionspresented themselves by turns to his mind, and whenever such seeds ofdoubt, suspicion, or fear, are blended with a warm affection, theywill sooner or later develop themselves with fatal effect. Yet,notwithstanding this fancied coldness, from which he suffered so much,the affection of the marshal for his daughters was so true and deep,that the thought of again quitting them caused the hesitations whichwere the torment of his life, and provoked an incessant struggle betweenhis paternal love and the duty he held most sacred.
The injurious calumnies, which had been so skillfully propagated, thatmen of honor, like his old brothers in arms, were found to attachsome credit to them, had been spread with frightful pertinacity by thefriends of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. We shall describe hereafter themeaning and object of these odious reports, which, joined with somany other fatal injuries, had filled up the measure of the marshal'sindignation. Inflamed with anger, excited almost to madness by thisincessant "stabbing with pins" (as he had himself called it), andoffended at some of Dagobert's words, he had spoken harshly to him.But, after the soldier's departure, when left to reflect in silence, themarshal remembered the warm and earnest expressions of the defenderof his children, and doubt crossed his mind, as to the reality of thecoldness of which he accused them. Therefore, having taken a terribleresolution in case a new trial should confirm his desponding doubts, heentered, as we before said, his, daughters' chamber. The discussion withDagobert had been so loud, that the sound of the voices had confusedlyreached the ears of the two sisters, even after they had taken refuge intheir bedroom. So that, on the arrival of their father, their palefaces betrayed their fear and anxiety. At sight of the marshal, whosecountenance was also much agitated, the girls rose respectfully, butremained close together, trembling in each other's arms. And yet therewas neither anger nor severity on their father's face--only a deep,almost supplicating grief, which seemed to say: "My children, Isuffer--I have come to you--console me, love me! or I shall die!"
The marshal's countenance was at this moment so expressive, that, thefirst impulse of fear once surmounted, the sisters were about to throwthemselves into his arms; but remembering the recommendations of theanonymous letter, which told them how painful any effusion of theirtenderness was to their father, they exchanged a rapid glance, andremained motionless. By a cruel fatality, the marshal at this momentburned to open his arms to his children. He looked at them with love, heeven made a slight movement as if to call them to him; but he wouldnot attempt more, for fear of meeting with no response. Still the poorchildren, paralyzed by perfidious counsels, remained mute, motionless,trembling!
"It is all over," thought he, as he gazed upon them. "No chord ofsympathy stirs in their bosom. Whether I go---whether I remain--mattersnot to them. No, I am nothing to these children--since, at this awfulmoment, when they see me perhaps for the last time, no filial instincttells them that their affection might save me still!"
During these terrible reflections, the marshal had not taken his eyesoff his children, and his manly countenance assumed an expressionat once so touching and mournful--his look revealed so painfully thetortures of his despairing soul--that Rose and Blanche, confused,alarmed, but yielding together to a spontaneous movement, threwthemselves on their father's neck, and covered him with tears andcaresses. Marshal Simon had not spoken a word; his daughters had notuttered a sound; and yet all three had at length understood one another.A sympathetic shock had electrified and mingled those three hearts. Vainfears, false doubts, lying counsel, all had yielded to the irresistibleemotion which had brought the daughters to their father's arms. A suddenrevelation gave them faith, at the fatal moment when incurable suspicionwas about to separate them forever.
In a second, the marshal felt all this, but words failed him. Pale,bewildered, kissing the brows, the hair, the hands of his daughters,weeping, sighing, smiling all in turn, he was wild, delirious, drunkwith happiness. At length, he exclaimed: "I have found them--or rather,I have never lost them. They loved me, and did not dare to tell me so.I overawed them. And I thought it was my fault. Heavens! what good thatdoes! what strength, what heart, what hope!--Ha! ha!" cried he, laughingand weeping at the same time, whilst he covered his children withcaresses; "they may despise me now, they may harass me now--I defy themall. My own blue eyes! my sweet blue eyes! look at me well, and inspireme with new life."
"Oh, father! you love us then as much as we love you?" cried Rose, withenchanting simplicity.
"And we may often, very often, perhaps every day, throw ourselves onyour neck, embrace you, and prove how glad we are to be with you?"
"Show you, dear father, all the store of love we were heaping up in ourhearts--so sad, alas! that we could not spend it upon you?"
"Tell you aloud all that we think in secret?"
"Yes--you may do so--you may do so," said Marshal Simon, faltering withjoy; "what prevented you, my children? But no; do not answer; enough ofthe past!--I know all, I understand all. You misinterpreted my gloom,and it made you sad; I, in my turn, misinterpreted your sadness. Butnever mind; I scarcely know what I am saying to you. I only think oflooking at you--and it dazzles me--it confuses me--it is the dizzinessof joy!"
"Oh, look at us, father! look into our eyes, into our hearts," criedRose, with rapture.
"And you will read there, happiness for us, and love for you, sir!"added Blanche.
"Sir, sir!" said the marshal, in a tone of affectionate reproach; "whatdoes that mean? Will you call me father, if you please?"
"Dear father, your hand!" said Blanche, as she took it, and placed it onher heart.
"Dear father, your hand!" said Rose, as she took the other hand of themarshal. "Do you believe now in our love and happiness?" she continued.
It is impossible to describe the charming expression of filial pride inthe divine faces of the girls, as their father, slightly pressing theirvirgin bosoms, seemed to count with delight the joyous pulsations oftheir hearts.
"Oh, yes! happiness and affection can alone make the heart beat thus!"cried the marshal.
A hoarse sob, heard in the direction of the open door, made the threeturn round, and there they saw the tall figure of Dagobert, with theblack nose of Spoil-sport reaching to his master's knee. The soldier,drying his eyes and moustache with his little blue cotton handkerchief,remained motionless as the god Terminus. When he could speak, headdressed himself to the marshal, and, shaking his head, muttered, in ahoarse voice, for the good man was swallowing his tears: "Did I not tellyou so?"
"Silence!" said the marshal, with a sign of intelligence. "You were abetter father than myself, my old friend. Come and kiss them! I shallnot be jealous."
The marshal stretched out his hand to the soldier, who pressed itcordially, whilst the two sisters threw themselves on his neck, andSpoil-sport, according to custom wishing to have his share in thegeneral joy, raised himself on his hind legs, and rested his fore-pawsagainst his master's back. There was a moment of profound silence.The celestial felicity enjoyed during that moment, by the marshal,his daughters, and the soldier, was interrupted by the barking ofSpoil-sort, who suddenly quitted the attitude of a biped. The happygroup separated, looked round, and saw Loony's stupid face. H
e lookedeven duller than usual, as he stood quite still in the doorway, staringwith wide stretched eyes, and holding a feather-broom under his arm, andin his hand the ever-present basket of wood.
Nothing makes one so gay as happiness; and, though this grotesque figureappeared at a very unseasonable moment, it was received with franklaughter from the blooming lips of Rose and Blanche. Having made themarshal's daughters laugh, after their long sadness, Loony at onceacquired a claim to the indulgence of the marshal, who said to him, goodhumoredly: "What do you want, my lad?"
"It's not me, my lord duke!" answered Loony, laying his hand on hisbreast, as if it were taking a vow, so that his feather-brush fell downfrom under his arm. The laughter of the girls redoubled.
"It is not you?" said the marshal.
"Here! Spoil-sport!" Dagobert called, for the honest dog seemed to havea secret dislike for the pretended idiot, and approached him with anangry air.
"No, my lord duke, it is not me!" resumed Loony. "It is the footman whotold me to tell M. Dagobert, when I brought up the wood to tell my lordduke, as I was coming up with the basket, that M. Robert wants to seehim."
The girls laughed still more at this new stupidity. But, at the name ofRobert, Marshal Simon started.
M. Robert was the secret emissary of Rodin, with regard to the possible,but adventurous, enterprise of attempting the liberation of Napoleon II.After a moment's silence, the marshal, whose face was still radiant withjoy and happiness, said to Loony: "Beg M. Robert to wait for me a momentin my study."
"Yes, my lord duke," answered Loony, bowing almost to the ground.
The simpleton withdrew, and the marshal said to his daughters, in ajoyous tone, "You see, that, in a moment like this, one does not leaveone's children, even for M. Robert."
"Oh! that's right, father!" cried Blanche, gayly; "for I was alreadyvery angry with this M. Robert."
"Have you pen and paper at hand?" asked the marshal.
"Yes, father; there on the table," said Rose, hastily, as she pointedto a little desk near one of the windows, towards which the marshal nowadvanced rapidly.
From motives of delicacy, the girls remained where they were, close tothe fireplace, and caressed each other tenderly, as if to congratulatethemselves in private on the unexpected happiness of this day.
The marshal seated himself at the desk, and made a sign to Dagobert todraw near.
While he wrote rapidly a few words in a firm hand, he said to thesoldier with a smile, in so low a tone that it was impossible for hisdaughters to hear: "Do you know what I had almost resolved upon, beforeentering this room?"
"What, general?"
"To blow my brains out. It is to my children that I owe my life." Andthe marshal continued writing.
Dagobert started at this communication, and then replied, also in awhisper: "It would not have been with your pistols. I took off thecaps."
The marshal turned round hastily, and looked at him with an air ofsurprise. But the soldier only nodded his head affirmatively, and added:"Thank heaven, we have now done with all those ideas!"
The marshal's only answer was to glance at his children, his eyesswimming with tenderness, and sparkling with delight; then, sealing thenote he had written, he gave it to the soldier, and said to him, "Givethat to M. Robert. I will see him to-morrow."
Dagobert took the letter, and went out. Returning towards his daughters,the marshal joyfully extended his arms to them, and said, "Now, youngladies, two nice kisses for having sacrificed M. Robert to you. HaveI not earned them?" And Rose and Blanche threw themselves on theirfather's neck.
About the time that these events were taking place at Paris, twotravellers, wide apart from each other, exchanged mysterious thoughtsthrough the breadth of space.