"I thank you, Cousin Molly, for your salutary admonishment. You are right; I do not know what real love means. I have an idea I could learn, though, with as good a teacher as I am sure you would be. I value your friendship and liking so much that I am going to ask you to forget that I have made this stupid proposal and let us continue the good comrades we have been."
"Oh, Philippe, I have already forgotten it! You must not think I was severe, but I do like you so much I hated for you to demean yourself."
"There is one thing I should like to ask you, Cousin Molly: how do you happen to know so much about true love?" And the young man, his equanimity entirely restored, looked teasingly at his cousin. "Is it entirely theoretical?"
CHAPTER XVII.
THE GHOST IN THE CHAPEL.
Philippe told his mother of the outcome of his proposal to Molly and when he repeated her remark about her and her Jean, the good lady shed tears of remorse that she had encouraged Philippe to want to marry a girl that she well knew her son did not really and truly love. Molly"s answer made her realize even more than before the fine, true heart of her little Kentucky cousin, and her regret was very great that Molly was not to become the bride of her son.
"Ah, my boy, how stupid we have been! Here you and I have gone serenely on all winter, confident that either one of these lovely girls, Judy or Molly, was ready to drop like a ripe plum if you but touched the tree.
We never once thought of the damage we might do one of the girls.
Suppose you had engaged the affections of both of them, while you were deciding which one you wanted the more? Thank goodness, there are no hearts broken, not even yours. Tell me, dear: will you try for Judy now?"
"As our American friends say: "Not on your life,"" laughed Philippe.
"Molly has taught me a lesson. I am not in love with Miss Julia Kean even as much as with my cousin, and with the example of happiness ever before my eyes that you and my father present, I shall be very careful and pick out for my wife one whom I truly love and who, I hope, truly loves me. I can"t quite see how I escaped falling deeply in love with Cousin Molly. She is so sweet and so everything that I admire. Do you know, _ma mere_, I have an idea that the Providence that looks after children and fools has protected me from a calamity which falling in love with Molly would have been? I have a feeling that my little cousin is already in love with someone else, and that there never has been a chance for me."
"Well, what a wise young man a refusal has made of you!" teased his mother. "Two or three more experiences of the sort will make a real savant of you. What makes you have this feeling, this p.r.i.c.king in your thumbs?"
"Something about the way she spoke of love. Her eyes are certainly the mirrors of her soul, and there was a look in them that made me feel she knew what she was talking about."
"Well, we never can tell. I am glad my thoughtlessness and stupidity have not done any damage," said the marchioness, looking fondly at her handsome son and thinking in her heart that both girls must be either blind or already very much in love not to be crazy about her Adonis.
That night, the soft white clouds that had been the despair of Judy and Pierce all day as they had vainly tried to put them on canvas, came together and managed to make a very large black cloud which finally filled the whole heavens; and a fierce thunder storm ensued.
Molly and Judy lay awake talking. Judy had the hardihood to accuse Molly of having turned down a chance to become the future Marquise d"Ochte.
"How on earth do you know, Judy? I would never think of telling such a thing even to you, my very best friend. It seems a very unfair advantage to take of a man, to let people know he has been refused. But you are the greatest guesser in the world."
"It didn"t take much guessing to come to this conclusion. Who"s a mole now, you old bat? I have known for some time that the handsome Philippe has had us both under consideration and it was a toss up which one would be honored. I was betting on you but hoping I would draw the prize,"
laughed Judy.
"Oh, Judy!" exclaimed Molly, shocked a little and wondering if, after all, Judy was just flirting with her brother Kent.
"Oh, I didn"t want to accept him, but I just wanted to jar him a little!
I like him very much and am crazy about his mother and father, but his complacency in regard to you and me has rather--rather--well, "got my goat." I don"t know how else to put it. It has never entered his aristocratic French mind that we would think of refusing him. He isn"t exactly conceited, in fact, I don"t think he is at all conceited; but things have come his way too much all his life.
"But my, wouldn"t it be great to be mistress of this wonderful place?
The chateau is simply perfect and the country around just screaming to be painted. Pierce and I found so many motifs this morning that I know I could live here a hundred years and not paint half of them. I am afraid if Philippe had chosen "Apple Blossom Time in Normandy" to make love to me; and had first taken me on a high hill and shown me all of his wonderful estates, that I should have been tempted to make a _marriage de convenance_, in spite of my desire to jar your handsome cousin.
Pierce and I were on the opposite hill trying to paint some cloud effects when Philippe broke off a spray of apple blossoms and gave it to you. I couldn"t help seeing what ensued; but I got in front of Pierce, so he missed the tableau; and he was so taken up with the clouds that he did not know he was missing anything."
Molly was thankful for the darkness that hid her hot face. But the storm was becoming so severe that Judy dropped the subject and got up to look out of the window for more cloud effects.
"Oh, Judy, I forgot to tell you that Philippe told me the ghost story connected with the old chateau! Come on back to bed and I"ll tell it to you," said Molly.
Judy accordingly abandoned the study of the storm clouds and eagerly drank in every word Molly had to tell her of the beautiful Elizabeth and the terrible night of Saint Bartholomew.
"Oh, Molly, delicious thrills are running up and down my backbone? And you say Philippe has never been to the chapel on a stormy night to test the truth of the story? Lived here all his life and never had the get-up-and-get to go find out? That is the keynote of his character. He lacks imagination, and that is one big reason both of us have had for not succ.u.mbing to his charms. There is no telling what havoc he might have played with our hearts if he had had more imagination."
Then both girls lay still listening to the storm, each one thinking of another good reason she had for not falling in love with poor Philippe, even if he had been gifted with the imagination of a Byron.
"Oh, what a clap of thunder!" Judy clutched Molly and held her close. "I have always been more afraid of thunder than lightning. Molly, I wonder if Elizabeth"s footprints wouldn"t be visible on such a night? Let"s go see. I can"t sleep for thinking of her. We can easily get there without being seen or heard."
Wrapped in their kimonos and armed with Judy"s electric searchlight and a big pitcher of water, as Philippe had said the floor must be wet to bring out the footprints, the girls made their way to the haunted chapel. They groped along narrow pa.s.sages connecting the new chateau with the old. There was an entrance to the chapel through the old chateau made since the fatal night of Saint Bartholomew, but the girls were not aware of it. They opened a narrow door on the court and ran through the pouring rain to the great door of the chapel. It was not locked but very heavy and it took their combined strength to push it open. The few moments that it took to accomplish this were enough for them to become wet to the skin.
How dark and grewsome the chapel was! The storm was raging. Looking up through the cracks in the little steeple, they could see flash after flash of continuous white lightning. They might have spared themselves the trouble of bringing the pitcher of water as the floor was already very wet from the leaks in the steeple. Molly clutched Judy, trying to keep from screaming, as something brushed her cheek.
"Something touched me! There it is again!" But the searchlight proved it to be nothing more than a great thick rope hanging from the steeple.
"Could it be the one the Jesuit came down?" gasped Judy.
"Hardly," whispered Molly. "Ropes don"t last four hundred years. It must be the bell rope."
"Of course," exclaimed Judy, rea.s.sured. "What a stupid I am! But come on, we must examine the floor. Let"s see: she started at the altar where she had concealed the boy, and then ran towards the door. The footprints should be along here where we are standing. Not enough wetness here."
Judy turned over the pitcher and Molly had to jump to keep her feet out of the water. The girls stooped and began examining every inch of the flagging.
"Judy, Judy, look!" cried Molly. "This is a footprint. It stays dry while all the floor is wet. Look, the little toes and then a s.p.a.ce for the high arch and then the slender little heel! Here is another and another."
Tense with excitement the girls stood up and faced each other. There was an extra loud crash of thunder and a vivid flash of lightning. There emerged from behind the altar a tall figure in a priest"s black cowl, carrying a lantern.
If there had been any peasants in the field pa.s.sing the old steeple on this night of terrible storm, they would have been able to bear witness to the truth of the ghost story of the beautiful Elizabeth. There was certainly a shriek of "G.o.d help me! G.o.d help me!" but it came from the over-wrought Judy. Molly reasoned quickly that ghosts of Jesuits would not carry kerosene lanterns; and, besides, that ghosts do not as a rule appear to two persons at the same time.
The man put down his lantern on the altar and threw back his hood, disclosing the features of Philippe. His lantern had little effect on the blackness of the chapel and Molly had turned off their searchlight at sight of the apparition. Philippe peered into the darkness and spoke with a slight agitation:
"Is some one in the chapel? I thought I heard a scream, but the thunder was so loud I am not sure."
Judy sat down in the puddle made by the overturned pitcher and gave a dry sob, while Molly turned on the searchlight and called out:
"n.o.body but two penitents, Brother Philippe."
"Well, you gave me quite a turn! I thought you were at least the poor murdered Elizabeth," and Philippe strode forward and a.s.sisted the trembling Judy to her feet. "I couldn"t sleep and I thought I would come and test the truth of the old tale about the footprints. I felt somehow that I had lacked in imagination never to have done it before. Certainly you girls have no lack of it."
"I wish I did lack a little of the abundance I possess," shuddered Judy.
"I was as certain a moment ago that you were the murderous Jesuit as I am now that you are Philippe d"Ochte. But tell me: how did you get behind the altar without our seeing you; and where did you get that cloak? It is about the most picturesque thing I ever saw."
"There is an entrance to the old chateau from behind the altar; and as for my cloak it is an ordinary _gens d"arme_ cape. It does look rather monkish. If you admire it, I will present it to you. It will make good studio property."
The young people had to examine the footprints more carefully, and of course Philippe discovered that they were really raised places in the rock, and for that reason showed when the floor was wet.
He conducted the girls back to the main building through the narrow corridor that had entrance to the chapel through a small door behind the altar.
"If you only had known of this way, you would have been spared a wetting. Both of you are drenched. There is a fire in the library. If you will come there you can dry off. I am so afraid you will catch cold," said Philippe. "I think you girls are a s.p.u.n.ky pair. I have never known a French girl who would have dared to go on the adventure you have to-night."