The whole of that week pa.s.sed much in the same way. The servants about the place spoke among themselves of Marie"s perverseness, obstinacy, and ingrat.i.tude, because she would not look pleased, or answer Madame Bauche"s courtesies with grat.i.tude; but La Mere herself showed no signs of anger. Marie had yielded to her, and she required no more. And she remembered also the harsh words she had used to gain her purpose; and she reflected on all that Marie had lost. On these accounts she was forbearing and exacted nothing--nothing but that one sacrifice which was to be made in accordance to her wishes.
And it was made. They were married in the great salon, the dining- room, immediately after breakfast. Madame Bauche was dressed in a new puce silk dress, and looked very magnificent on the occasion.
She simpered and smiled, and looked gay even in spite of her spectacles; and as the ceremony was being performed, she held fast clutched in her hand the gold watch and chain which were intended for Marie as soon as ever the marriage should be completed.
The capitaine was dressed exactly as usual, only that all his clothes were new. Madame Bauche had endeavoured to persuade him to wear a blue coat; but he answered that such a change would not, he was sure, be to Marie"s taste. To tell the truth, Marie would hardly have known the difference had he presented himself in scarlet vestments.
Adolphe, however, was dressed very finely, but he did not make himself prominent on the occasion. Marie watched him closely, though none saw that she did so; and of his garments she could have given an account with much accuracy--of his garments, ay! and of every look.
"Is he a man," she said at last to herself, "that he can stand by and see all this?"
She too was dressed in silk. They had put on her what they pleased, and she bore the burden of her wedding finery without complaint and without pride. There was no blush on her face as she walked up to the table at which the priest stood, nor hesitation in her low voice as she made the necessary answers. She put her hand into that of the capitaine when required to do so; and when the ring was put on her finger she shuddered, but ever so slightly. No one observed it but La Mere Bauche. "In one week she will be used to it, and then we shall all be happy," said La Mere to herself. "And I,--I will be so kind to her!"
And so the marriage was completed, and the watch was at once given to Marie. "Thank you, maman," said she, as the trinket was fastened to her girdle. Had it been a pincushion that had cost three sous, it would have affected her as much.
And then there was cake and wine and sweetmeats; and after a few minutes Marie disappeared. For an hour or so the capitaine was taken up with the congratulating of his friends, and with the efforts necessary to the wearing of his new honours with an air of ease; but after that time he began to be uneasy because his wife did not come to him. At two or three in the afternoon he went to La Mere Bauche to complain. "This lackadaisical nonsense is no good," he said. "At any rate it is too late now. Marie had better come down among us and show herself satisfied with her husband."
But Madame Bauche took Marie"s part. "You must not be too hard on Marie," she said. "She has gone through a good deal this week past, and is very young; whereas, capitaine, you are not very young."
The capitaine merely shrugged his shoulders. In the mean time Mere Bauche went up to visit her protegee in her own room, and came down with a report that she was suffering from a headache. She could not appear at dinner, Madame Bauche said; but would make one at the little party which was to be given in the evening. With this the capitaine was forced to be content.
The dinner therefore went on quietly without her, much as it did on other ordinary days. And then there was a little time for vacancy, during which the gentlemen drank their coffee and smoked their cigars at the cafe, talking over the event that had taken place that morning, and the ladies brushed their hair and added some ribbon or some brooch to their usual apparel. Twice during this time did Madame Bauche go up to Marie"s room with offers to a.s.sist her. "Not yet, maman; not quite yet," said Marie piteously through her tears, and then twice did the green spectacles leave the room, covering eyes which also were not dry. Ah! what had she done? What had she dared to take upon herself to do? She could not undo it now.
And then it became quite dark in the pa.s.sages and out of doors, and the guests a.s.sembled in the salon. La Mere came in and out three or four times, uneasy in her gait and unpleasant in her aspect, and everybody began to see that things were wrong. "She is ill, I am afraid," said one. "The excitement has been too much," said a second; "and he is so old," whispered a third. And the capitaine stalked about erect on his wooden leg, taking snuff, and striving to look indifferent; but he also was uneasy in his mind.
Presently La Mere came in again, with a quicker step than before, and whispered something, first to Adolphe and then to the capitaine, whereupon they both followed her out of the room.
"Not in her chamber," said Adolphe.
"Then she must be in yours," said the capitaine.
"She is in neither," said La Mere Bauche, with her sternest voice; "nor is she in the house!"
And now there was no longer an affectation of indifference on the part of any of them. They were anything but indifferent. The capitaine was eager in his demands that the matter should still be kept secret from the guests. She had always been romantic, he said, and had now gone out to walk by the river side. They three and the old bath-man would go out and look for her.
"But it is pitch dark," said La Mere Bauche.
"We will take lanterns," said the capitaine. And so they sallied forth with creeping steps over the gravel, so that they might not be heard by those within, and proceeded to search for the young wife.
"Marie! Marie!" said La Mere Bauche, in piteous accents; "do come to me; pray do!"
"Hush!" said the capitaine. "They"ll hear you if you call." He could not endure that the world should learn that a marriage with him had been so distasteful to Marie Clavert.
"Marie, dear Marie!" called Madame Bauche, louder than before, quite regardless of the capitaine" s feelings; but no Marie answered. In her innermost heart now did La Mere Bauche wish that this cruel marriage had been left undone.
Adolphe was foremost with his lamp, but he hardly dared to look in the spot where he felt that it was most likely that she should have taken refuge. How could he meet her again, alone, in that grotto?
Yet he alone of the four was young. It was clearly for him to ascend. "Marie," he shouted, "are you there?" as he slowly began the long ascent of the steps.
But he had hardly begun to mount when a whirring sound struck his ear, and he felt that the air near him was moved; and then there was a crash upon the lower platform of rock, and a moan, repeated twice, but so faintly, and a rustle of silk, and a slight struggle somewhere as he knew within twenty paces of him; and then all was again quiet and still in the night air.
"What was that?" asked the capitaine in a hoa.r.s.e voice. He made his way half across the little garden, and he also was within forty or fifty yards of the flat rock. But Adolphe was unable to answer him.
He had fainted and the lamp had fallen from his hands and rolled to the bottom of the steps.
But the capitaine, though even his heart was all but quenched within him, had still strength enough to make his way up to the rock; and there, holding the lantern above his eyes, he saw all that was left for him to see of his bride.
As for La Mere Bauche, she never again sat at the head of that table,--never again dictated to guests,--never again laid down laws for the management of any one. A poor bedridden old woman, she lay there in her house at Vernet for some seven tedious years, and then was gathered to her fathers.
As for the capitaine--but what matters? He was made of sterner stuff. What matters either the fate of such a one as Adolphe Bauche?