CHAPTER XXI
MADAME LA COMTESSE
It was five years after my marriage, or to be correct, in May of theyear nineteen hundred and seven, that Dolores and I, leaving our threedear little children in the manor house on the shores of the Solentwhilst we took a flying trip to Switzerland, found ourselves oneheavenly spring morning standing on the balcony of the great hotel atLucerne which is built on the very edge of the blue lake.
"Well, where shall we go to-day, darling?" I asked my little wife as Islipped one hand round her waist and took the cigar from between mylips with the other; "shall we ascend grim Pilatus, or cog-wheel it upthe Rigi and have lunch at the little hotel at the top, or shall weidle away the day in a boat on the lake? What say you, little one?"
An old German passing below with his hand behind his back, feeling hisway gingerly along on gouty feet with the aid of a stick, looked up,smiled, and shook his head at us. He took us for a newly marriedcouple!
When the laughter provoked by this little interlude had subsided, Ionce more put the question to Dolores.
"Where shall we go to-day?"
"Darling," she answered, "I'm entirely for the lazy day on the lake. Iwant to be idle."
So the lazy day on the lake it was.
A small hamper containing a cold chicken, some ham, a salad, with otheraccessories for lunch, and the added luxury of a gipsy tea-set, havingbeen duly put into a boat, we followed it, and taking our seats, weremet with the following query of the boatman, who sat looking at us, histwo oars poised ready for work--
"Where will you go?"
We exchanged a significant glance, then gave voice simultaneously tothe thought which was in both our minds.
"Anywhere."
The boatman nodded sagaciously; here again he even--theexperienced--was deceived into believing that he had charge of a pairwho had recently sworn to keep each other warm for life.
Had he been asked for his opinion concerning us, his reply expressed inhis native tongue would have been briefly--
"Honey mooners!"
As I had reason to believe, after finding that we were perfectlyindifferent as to where we went, he decided to have a little trip tosuit his own convenience. He would go and see his sister at theConvent of The Nativity up the lake.
He continued sagely nodding his head as he rowed us away, and in replyto a question of mine as to what direction he had decided on, winkedconfidentially.
"Monsieur et madame," he replied, "leave it to me. You will have agreat surprise."
We did, but not in the way he intended.
On the dark face of the boatman as he worked steadily up the lake I sawboth perplexity and concern; first, although I held Dolores' hand, as Iusually did on such occasions when we were alone--or nearly so, for theSwiss oarsman counted for little--yet the man saw no yearning desire onmy part to _kiss_ her, as was the case with most husbands in the earlydays of the _lune de miel_.
Several times I noticed that he gave me opportunity by turning roundand straining his neck to see imaginary obstacles in the way for thefulfilment of this custom, which, to his surprise, I did not availmyself of. There were no blushes, no abrupt separations, and noassumed looks of unconcern when he turned round again.
The situation was a puzzling one. But there was a pale cast of thoughtover his features in addition, which I only knew the reason for lateron. He was puzzling his brains to find an excuse for taking us to thevery plain looking convent up the lake which, although beautifullysituated, yet presented no extraordinary attractions beyond a wellordered and ancient garden, laid out in terraces on the side of one ofthe lower slopes of the mountains, and, of course, the beautiful view.Therefore when, at that curve in the lake when the Rigi comes intofullest view, a smile of satisfaction overspread the boatman's face, Iknew, after, that he had solved the difficulty and found the excuse fortaking us to such a very ordinary resort.
"I will show these simple English people," he had reasoned, "thelong-haired goats. I will make a _specialite_ of these animals for thedelectation of this cold-blooded bride and bridegroom, who do not kisswhen I turn round to observe the prospect."
In the course of an hour and a half we arrived off a white terrace-likelanding place with a flight of steps leading down to the lake.
All questions as to our destination had been answered by the boatmanwith mysterious nods and winks, giving promise of a stupendous surprisein store. His object was to get us safely on shore before he openedthe subject of the hairy goats, lest we should, insular like, changeour minds and not give him the opportunity of visiting his sister. Theboat shot alongside the steps, the man sprang out and assisted us toland; a nun who had been working in the garden came down and met us.
"_Ma soeur_," explained our boatman, "this English milor and his ladyhave a great desire to see your most splendid goats!"
The good sister looked surprised, an expression which Dolores and Ishared with her, mingled with amusement. We had, however, noparticular objection to inspecting her goats, notwithstanding.
"Our Mother," she replied amiably, "I am sure, will be pleased to showmonsieur and madame the goats if it will give them any gratification."
She preceded us through the beautifully kept kitchen garden, and up aflight of steps to another above, each foot of the productive soilbeing used to advantage, as we saw by the abundance of the crops rearedon the sunny slope.
We mounted up from garden to garden until we came to a large terracefull of flowers, which surrounded the conventual buildings andcommanded a magnificent view of the lake.
Here the sister left us.
"Will monsieur and madame divert themselves here," she asked, "while Igo fetch our Mother?"
Delighted with the beautiful surroundings and the glorious stretch ofblue water below us, Dolores and I were quite content to enjoy thelovely scene by ourselves; our boatman had long since slunk off down aside alley to find his relative the lay sister.
We had walked half the length of the broad terrace absorbed in theview, when, turning from it, we became aware that we were not alone.At the farther end of the terrace was an old lady sitting in aninvalid's chair, also enjoying the beautiful prospect. By her side sata nun on a garden chair, holding a large white sunshade over her; thesun was very hot. Not wishing to disturb her privacy, we turned backand met the Reverend Mother approaching with our conductress.
She was amiability itself. Certainly she would show monsieur andmadame the goats. She was unaware that they had become so celebrated.Perhaps monsieur and madame kept goats in England?
"No; you have come only by the recommendation of the boatman, FritzKillner?" she asked. "No doubt he wished to give you the diversion ofthe long passage in the boat."
I saw a look of amused intelligence pass over the Reverend Mother'sface; she had divined the object of the boatman's visit. In fact, shefrankly told us later--when we had seen the goats--that he had a sisterin the community, and thus let the cat out of the bag.
We were not by any means petrified with astonishment at the goats; theyseemed very ordinary animals, but with very long white coats. I hadseen better in a goat chaise at Ramsgate.
But we had, at the Reverend Mother's solicitation, to make the tour ofthe convent.
We inspected the cows, the pigs, the orchard and a very respectablerange of glass houses.
Then we went to the chapel, and finally to the refectory; here thehospitality of the white-clad order burst forth; we must have_dejeuner_.
The good Superior waved aside the mention of our cold fowl, andinsisted on cutlets and an omelette. Meanwhile, we were to walk withher upon the terrace to improve our appetite--we were simply ravenousalready.
"I have brought you to the terrace, monsieur and madam," proceeded thenun, "not only to admire the fine view and increase your appetites, butalso to present you to Madame la Comtesse."
"Madame la Comtesse?" I repeated inquiringly.
She indicated the old white-haired lady sitting at the farther
end ofthe terrace.
"That is Madame la Comtesse, the founder of this religious house," sheexplained. "She delights to see English visitors. She adores yournation. Come, let us go to her, but I ask you to approach quite nearher, or she will not see you clearly. She is shortsighted."
Walking one on either hand of the Reverend Mother, we approached Madamela Comtesse.
The attendant nun had fixed the large white sunshade in a socket in theinvalid chair; she was writing at the old lady's dictation. We camequite near before the Comtesse heard us approaching. Then she turnedher head and looked at us, her kind old features breaking into a verysweet smile; her glance wandered from the Mother Superior to Dolores,then to me; there it stopped.
A little more frail, a little paler, yet with a bright colour in hercheeks, her still clear eyes gazing up to mine with an alarmed look inthem; I knew her.
From the very first moment that she moved in her chair and turned tous; from the instant that that movement of her head disarranged thesilk scarf which was wrapped round her throat, and laying it bare,showed a broad red scar upon it, _I knew her_; knew her for my dear oldlady of Monmouth Street, Bath, at whose bidding I had crossed theAtlantic and endured many perils. I knew her, and as I gazed upon herher lips moved and formed two words--
"Mr. Anstruther!"