At a Winter's Fire

  IV

  The poor bandaged figure; the approaching death; the dog whining softlyin the yard.

  "I am dying, my little Plancine?"

  The girl's forehead was bowed on the homely quilt.

  "Nay, cry not, little one! I go very happy. That (he indicated by amotion of his eyelids the fatal box, which, yet unopened, lay on a tableby the sunny window) shall repay thee for thy long devotion, for thypoverty, and for thy brave sweetness with the old papa."

  "No, no, no!"

  "But they are diamonds, Plancine--such diamonds, my bird. They haveflashed at Versailles, at the little Trianon. They were honoured to lieon the breast of a beautiful and courageous woman--thine aunt, Plancine;the most noble the Comtesse de la Morne. She gave her wealth, almosther life, for her king--all but her diamonds. It was at Brussels, whitherI had escaped from The Terror--I, a weak and desolate boy of butfourteen. I lived with her, in her common, cheap lodging. For five yearswe made out our friendless and deserted existence in company. In truth,we were an embarrassment, and they looked at us askance. Long after hermind failed her, the memory of her own former beauty dwelt with her; yetshe could not comprehend but that it was still a talisman to conjurewith. Even to the end she would deck herself and coquet to her glass. Butshe was good and faithful, Plancine; and, at the last, when she wasdying, she gave me this box. 'It contains all that is left to me of myformer condition,' she said. 'It shall make thy fortune for thee inEngland, my nephew, whither thou must journey when poor Dorine isunderground.' By that I knew it was her cherished diamonds she bequeathedme. 'They do not want thee here,' she said. 'Thou must take boat forEngland when I am gone.'

  "But George, my friend!"

  The young man was standing sorrowful by the open window. He could haveseen the sailing-boats in the bay, the sailing clouds in the sky placidlyfloating over a world of serene and verdurous loveliness. But his visionwas all inward, of the piteous calm, following storm and disaster, inwhich the dying voice from the bed was like the lapping of little waves.

  He came at once and stood over Plancine, not daring to touch her.

  "It was not wilfulness, but my great love," said the broken, gentlevoice, "that made the condition. All of you I cannot extol, knowing whatI have known. But you are an honest gentleman and a true, my brave; andyou shall make this dearest a noble husband."

  Waveringly George stole his hand towards the bowed head and let it restthere.

  From the battered face a smile broke like flowers from a blasted soil.

  "Withholding my countenance only as I foresaw the means to enrich youboth were approaching my grasp, I waited for the hill to break away thatI might recover my casket. It was there--it is here; and now my Plancineshall never know poverty more, or her husband restrict the scope of hisso admirable art on the score of necessity."

  He saw the eyes questioning what the lips would not ask.

  "But how I lost it?" he said. "I took the box; I obeyed her behests. Themoment was acute; the times peremptory. I sailed for England, hurriedlyand secretly, never to this day having feasted my eyes on what lieswithin there. With me went Lacombe, Madame's 'runner' in the old days--astolid Berrichon, who had lived upon her bounty to the end. The rogue!the ingrate! We were wrecked upon this coast; we plunged and came ashore.I know not who were lost or saved; but Lacombe and I clung together andwere thrown upon the land, the box still in my grasp. We climbed thecliffs where a stair had been cut; we broke eastwards from the upperslopes and staggered on through the blown darkness. Suddenly Lacombestopped. The day was faint then on the watery horizon; and in theghostly light I saw his face and read the murder in it. We were standingon the verge of the cleft under Black Venn. 'No further!' he whispered.'You must go down there!' He snatched the box from my hand. In theinstant of his doing so, stricken by the death terror, the affection towhich I was then much subject seized me. I screamed, 'My God! theguillotine!' Taken by surprise, he started back, staggered, and went downcrashing to the fate he had designed for me. I seemed to lie prostratefor hours, while his moans came up fainter and fainter till they ceased.Then I rose and faced life, lonely, friendless, and a beggar."

  The restless wandering of his eyes travelled over his daughter's head tothe rusty casket by the window.

  "It was very well," he whispered. "I thank my God that He has permittedme at the perfect moment to realize my investment in that dead rascal'sdishonesty. Have I ever desired wealth save for my little _pouponne_here? And I have sorely tried thee, my George. But the old naturalisthad such faith in his prediction. Now--"

  His vision was glazing; the muscles of his face were quietly settling tothe repose that death only can command.

  "Now, I would see the fruit of my prophecy; would see it all hung on theneck, in the hair of my child, that I may die rejoicing. Canst thou forcethe casket, George?"

  The young man turned with a stifled groan. Some tools lay on a shelf hardby. He grasped a chisel and went to his task with shaking hands.

  The box was all eaten and corroded. It was a matter of but a few secondsto prise it open. The lid fell back on the table with a rusty clang.

  "Ah!" cried the dying man. "What now? Dost thou see them? Quick! quick!to glorify this little head! Are they not exquisite?"

  George was gazing down with a dull, vacant feeling at his heart.

  "Are they not?" repeated the voice, in terrible excitement.

  "They--Mr. De Jussac, they are loveliness itself. Plancine, I will nottouch them. You must be the first."

  He strode to the kneeling girl; lifted, almost roughly dragged her to herfeet.

  "Come!" he said; and, supporting her across the room, whispered madly inher ear: "Pretend! For God's sake, pretend!"

  Plancine's swimming eyes looked down, looked upon a litter of perishedrags of paper, and, lying in the midst of the rubbish, an ancient stainedand cockled miniature of a powdered Louis _Seize_ coquette.

  This was all. This was the treasure the old crazed vanity had thoughtsufficient to build her nephew his fortune.

  The diamonds! Probably these had long before been sacrificed to thearmies ineffectively manoeuvring for the destruction of Monsieur "Veto's"enemies.

  Plancine lifted her head. Thereafter George never ceased to recall with aglad pride the nobility that had shone in her eyes.

  "My papa!" she cried softly, going swiftly to the bed; "they arebeautiful as the stars that glittered over the old untroubled France!"

  De Jussac sprang up on his pillow.

  "The guillotine!" he cried. "The beams break into flowers! The axe is ashaft of light!"

  And so the glowing blade descended.