"Believe me, Emanuel," rejoined Paul, in a calm tone--
"I yesterday called myself the count; to-day I call myself the Marquis d"Auray," said Emanuel, interrupting him with a gesture of haughtiness and contempt; "and I beg, sir, that you will not forget it."
An almost imperceptible smile pa.s.sed over the lips of Paul.
"I was saying, then," continued Emanuel, "that you but imperfectly comprehend the feelings of a gentleman, if you believed that I would permit another to take up, on my behalf, a quarrel which you came here to seek. Yes, sir, for it is you who have thrown yourself across my path, and not I who have sought you."
"His lordship, the Marquis d"Auray," said Paul, smiling, "forgets his visit on board the _Indienne_."
"A truce to your cavils, sir, and let us at once proceed to facts.
Yesterday, I know not from what strange and inexplicable feeling, when I proposed to you that, which I will not say every gentleman, every officer, but simply, any man of courage would instantly, and without hesitation, have acceded to, you refused, sir, and evading my provocation, you went, as it were, behind my back to seek an adversary, who, although not precisely a stranger to the quarrel, yet good taste should have dictated that he ought not to have been drawn into it."
"Believe me, that in this, sir," replied Paul, with the calmness and the same candor of manner which had accompanied all he said; I was compelled to yield to the exigency of the case, which did not leave me the choice of an adversary. You had proposed a duel, which I could not accept, you being my adversary, but which was perfectly indifferent to me with any other person. I am too much habituated to encounters of this description, and to encounters of a far more murderous and mortal nature, to consider an event of this kind, but as one of the usual accidents of my adventurous life. You will, however, please to remember that it was not I who sought this duel; you, yesterday, proposed it to me; but, as I could not, I again repeat it, appear as your antagonist, I selected M. de Lectoure, as I would have done M. de Nozay or M. la Jarry, because he happened to be there, within my reach--and because, if it were absolutely necessary that I should kill some one, I preferred killing an useless and insolent fop, rather than a good and honest country gentleman, who would consider himself dishonored, did he but dream that he had entered into a bargain of so vile and despicable a nature as that which the Baron de Lectoure has, in reality, proposed to you."
""Tis well, sir," said Emanuel, jeeringly; "continue to const.i.tute yourself as the redresser of wrongs, to dub yourself the knight-errant of oppressed princesses, and to shield yourself under the buckler of your mysterious replies! As long as this antiquated quixotism does not come in collision with my views, my interests, and my engagements, I will fully permit it to wander over the whole earth, and ocean also, even from pole to pole, and I shall merely smile at it as it pa.s.ses by me; but whenever this madness breaks out against me, as yours has done, sir; whenever, in the intimate concerns of a family of which I am the head, I meet a stranger, who orders as a master where I alone have the right to raise my voice, I shall present myself before him, as I now do before you, should I have the happiness to meet him alone as I do you, and then feeling a.s.sured, that no one will come to interrupt us before I had obtained the necessary explanation, I would say to him: "You have, if not insulted me, at all events wounded my feelings, sir, by coming to my house, and injuring me in my in-terests, and my family affections. It is then with me, and not with another, that you ought to fight, and you shall fight with me.""
"You are mistaken, Emanuel," replied Paul; "I will not fight, at all events, with you; the thing is impossible."
"Oh! sir, the time of enigmas is gone by," cried Emanuel, impatiently; "we live in the midst of a world, in which at every moment we elbow a reality. Let us, therefore, leave the poetical and the mysterious, to the authors of romances and tragedies. Your presence in this castle has been marked by circ.u.mstances too fatal to render it necessary to add that which is not, to that which is. Lusignan returned, notwithstanding the order which condemned him to transportation; my sister, who, for the first time, has shown herself rebellious against the orders of her mother; my father, killed by your mere presence: these are the disasters by which you have been accompanied, which have heralded you from another hemisphere, and have formed your funereal escort: for all this, you have to account to me; therefore, speak, sir; speak as a man should to a man, in the broad daylight, face to face, and not as a phantom gliding in the darkness, which escapes under the cloud of night, letting fall some few solemn and prophetic words, as if from the other world. Such things are well calculated to terrify nurses and children! Speak, sir, speak! Look at me, you will see that I am calm. If you have anything to reveal to me I will listen to you."
"The secret which you ask of me is not my own," replied Paul, whose perfect calmness strongly contrasted with the feverish excitement of Emanuel; "believe what I have said, and do not insist farther.
Farewell!"
After p.r.o.nouncing these words, Paul moved toward the door.
"Oh!" cried Emanuel, rushing between him and the door, to prevent his pa.s.sage; "you shall not leave me thus, sir! I have you now, we are alone in this room, without fear of any interruption, into which, it was not I that enticed you, but you have come here of your own free will.
Therefore, hearken to that which I am about to say. The person you have insulted is myself! the person to whom you owe satisfaction is myself!
"The person with whom you have to fight is----"
"You are mad, sir," tranquilly replied Paul; "I have already told you it is impossible. Therefore, allow me to withdraw."
"Take care, sir," cried Emanuel, stretching out his hand to the box, and taking out the pistols; "take care, sir. After having done every thing in my power to compel you to act as a gentleman, I may treat you as a brigand.--You are here in a house, in which you are a total stranger; you have entered it, I know not how, nor for what purpose; if you have not come into it to despoil us of our gold and jewels, you have entered it to steal the obedience of a daughter to her mother, and to cancel the sacred promise given by a friend to a friend. In one case or the other, you are a violator, whom I have met at the moment that his hands were about to seize a treasure; that treasure, is honor, the most precious of all riches! Come, sir, believe me, you will do better to accept this weapon"--Emanuel endeavored to thrust one of the pistols into Paul"s hand--"and defend yourself."
"You may kill me, sir," replied Paul, again placing his elbow on the chimney-piece, as if he were continuing an ordinary conversation; "although I do not believe that G.o.d would permit so great a crime: but you shall not force me to fight with you. I have before told you so, and I repeat it."
"Take the pistol, sir!" cried Emanuel, "take it, sir, I tell you! you believe that the threat I am making is but a vain menace; undeceive yourself! for three days have you fatigued my patience! for three days have you filled my soul with gall and hatred! for three days have I familiarised my mind with the idea of ridding myself of you; whether it be by a duel or by murder! Do not imagine, that the dread of punishment withholds my hand; this castle is isolated, mute, and deaf. The sea is there; and before you could be even laid in the tomb, I should be in England. Therefore, sir, for the last time, I say to you, take this pistol and defend yourself." Paul, without uttering a word, gently put the pistol aside.
"Well then!" cried Emanuel, exasperated to the highest degree, by the sangfroid of his adversary; "as you will not defend yourself like a man, die like a dog!" And so saying, he raised the muzzle of the pistol to the level of the captain"s breast.
At that moment a dreadful shriek was heard; it was Marguerite, who had returned from her mother, and who had, at a glance, comprehended all that had happened. She rushed upon Emanuel, and at that instant he fired the pistol, but the direction of the ball having been changed by the young girl"s striking up his arm, it pa.s.sed two or three inches above Paul"s head, and shattered the gla.s.s above the chimney-piece.
"My brother!" cried Marguerite, with one bound, springing to were Paul stood, and throwing her arms around him: "my brother, are you not wounded?"
"Your brother!" exclaimed Emanuel, letting fall the pistol which was still smoking; "your brother!"
"Well, Emanuel!" said Paul, with the same calmness which he had evinced during the whole of this painful scene; "do you now comprehend why it was I could not fight with you?"
At that moment, the marchioness appeared at the door, pale as a spectre, for she had heard the report of the pistol; then looking around her with an expression of infinite terror, and seeing that no one was wounded, she silently raised her eyes to heaven, as if to ask if its anger was at length appeased. She remained thus for some time in an att.i.tude of mental thanksgiving. When she again cast down her eyes, Emanuel and Marguerite were on their knees before her, each holding one of her hands, and covering it with tears and kisses.
"I thank you, my children," said the marchioness, after a short silence; "and now leave me with this young man."
Marguerite and Emanuel bowed with an expression of the most profound respect, and obeyed the command of their mother.
CHAPTER XVIII--RECOGNITION.
Oh! my mother!
You do not know the heart that you have pierced!
I--I--thy son--thine Arthur--I avenge?
Never on thee.
Live happy--love my brother-- Forget that I was born.
Here, here--these proofs-- These--these!
Oh! see you where the words are blistered With my hot tears?
I wept--it was for joy-- I did not think of lands, of name, of birthright-- I did but think these arms should clasp a" mother.
Bulwer.--The Sea Captain.
The marchioness closed the door as soon as they had withdrawn, advanced into the middle of the room, and went without looking at Paul, and leaning upon the arm-chair in which the marquis had the night before been seated to sign the contract. There she remained standing, with her eyes cast upon the ground. Paul for a moment experienced the desire to throw himself upon his knees before her, but there was upon the features of the marchioness such an expression of severity, that he repressed the yearnings of his heart, and stood motionless awaiting her commands.
After a few moments of ice-like silence, the marchioness addressed him.
"You desired to see me, sir, and I have come to know your will--you wished to speak to me--I am listening."
These words were uttered without the marchioness making the least movement--her lips trembled, rather than opened--it seemed a marble statue that was speaking.
"Yes, madam," replied Paul, in a tone of intense feeling, "yes, yes, I desired to speak with you; it is long since first this desire was cherished in my heart, and it has never left me. Recollections of infancy preyed upon the mind of the grown man. I remembered a woman who would formerly glide to my cradle, and in my youthful dreams, I thought her the guardian angel of my infancy. Since that time, still so fresh in my memory, although so distant, more than once, believe me, I have awakened with a start, imagining that I had felt upon my forehead the impression of a maternal kiss: and then seeing that there was no one near me, I would call that person, hoping she would, perhaps, return. It is now twenty years since first I thus had called, and this is the first time she has replied to me. Can it have been as I have often fearfully imagined, that you would have trembled at again beholding me? Can it be true, as I at this moment fear, that you have naught to say to me?"
"And had I feared your return," said the marchioness, in a hollow tone, "should I have been to blame? You appeared before me only yesterday, sir, and now the mystery which ought to have been concealed to all but G.o.d and myself, is known to both my children."
"Is it my fault that G.o.d has been pleased to reveal the secret to them?
Was it I that conducted Marguerite, despairing and in tears, to the bedside of her dying father, whose protection she had gone to ask, and whose confession she was compelled to hear? Was it I that led her to Achard, and was it not you, madam, that followed her thither? As to Emanuel, the report you heard, and that shattered gla.s.s, attest, that I would have preferred death rather than to have saved my life at the expense of your secret. No, no, believe me, madam, I am the instrument, and not the hand; the effect, and not the cause. No, madam, it is G.o.d who has brought about all this, that you might see at your feet, as you have just now seen them, your two children whom you have so long banished from your arms!"
"But there is a third," said the marchioness, in a voice in which emotion began to evince itself, "and I know not what I have to expect from him."
"Let me accomplish a last duty, madam, and that once fulfilled, he will on his knees await your orders."
"And of what nature is this duty?"
"It is to restore his brother to the rank to which he is ent.i.tled, his sister to that happiness which she has lost--to his mother that tranquillity of mind, which she has so long sought in vain."
"And yet, thanks to you," replied the marchioness, "M. de Maurepas refused to M. de Lectoure the regiment he had solicited for my son."
"Because," replied Paul, taking the commission from his pocket and laying it on the table, "because the king had already granted it to me, for the brother of Marguerite."
The marchioness cast her eyes upon the commission, and saw that it was made out in the name of Emanuel d"Auray.