Daniel looked disgusted. He replied,-"It is hardly generous in you to make sport of me, Maxime. I may be a fool; but I am not an idiot, to be conceited to that degree."
"That is no answer to my question," said Brevan; "and I repeat my question. What would you say?"
"I would say that I execrate her!"
"Oh! if you hate her so bitterly, you are very near loving her."
"I despise her; and without esteem"- "That is an old story. That is no impediment."
"Finally, you know how dearly, how ardently, I love Miss Ville-Handry."
"Of course; but that is not the same thing."
M. de Brevan had at last finished his careful toilet. He put on a dressing-gown; and, carrying Daniel with him into the small room which he used as a dressing-room, he asked,- "And what have you said in reply to that note?"
"Nothing."
M. de Brevan had thrown himself into a comfortable chair, and a.s.sumed the careful air of a physician who has been consulted. He nodded, and said,- "You have done well, and for the future I advise you to pursue the same plan. Don"t say a word. Can you do any thing to prevent Miss Brandon from carrying out her purposes? No! Let her go on, then."
"But"- "Let me finish. It is not only your own interest to act thus, but also Miss Henrietta"s interest. The day on which they part you, you will be inconsolable; but you will also be free to act. She, on the other hand, will be forced to live under the same roof with Miss Brandon; and you do not know what a stepmother can do to torture the child of her husband!"
Daniel trembled. He had already thought of that; and the idea had made him shudder. Brevan continued,- "For the present, the most important thing is to find out how your flight has been explained. We may be able to draw our conclusions from what has been said on the subject."
"I"ll go at once and try to find out," said Daniel.
And, after having affectionately shaken hands with Maxime, he hurried down to his carriage and drove as fast as he could to Count Ville- Handry"s palace. The count was at home and alone, walking up and down in the most excited manner. And certainly he had enough to excite and preoccupy him just now. It was nearly noon; and he had not yet been in the hands of his valet. When he saw Daniel, he paused for a moment, and, crossing his arms on his breast, he said, in a terrible tone,- "Ah! here you are, M. Champcey. Well, you are doing nice things!"
"I, count? How so?"
"How so? Who else has overwhelmed poor Miss Sarah with insults at the very time when she was trying to explain every thing to you? Who else, ashamed of his scandalous conduct, has run away, never daring to reappear at her house?"
What had the count been told? Certainly not the truth. He went on,- "And do you know, M. Champcey, what has been the effect of your brutality? Miss Brandon has been seized with such a terrible nervous attack, that they had to send the carriage for a doctor. You unlucky man, you might have killed her! They would, of course, never have allowed me to enter her own room; but from the reception-room I could at times hear her painful cries and sobs. It was only after eight o"clock this morning that she could get any rest; and then Mrs. Brian, taking pity on my great grief, granted me the favor to see her, sleeping like an infant."
Daniel listened, stupefied by amazement, utterly confounded by the impudence of Sir Thorn and Mrs. Brian, and hardly able to understand the count"s astonishing credulity. He thought to himself,- "This is abominable! Here I am an accomplice of this Miss Brandon. Must I actually aid her in obtaining possession of this unlucky man?"
But what could he do? Should he speak? Should he tell Count Ville- Handry, that if he really heard cries of pain, and sobs, they were certainly not uttered by Miss Brandon? Should he tell him, that, while he was dying with anxiety, his beloved was driving about Paris, Heaven knows where and with whom.
The thought of doing so occurred to Daniel. But what would have been the good of it? Would the count believe him? Most probably not. And thus he would only add new difficulties to his position, which was already complicated enough. Finally, he saw very, clearly that he would never dare tell the whole truth, or show that letter which he had in his pocket. Still he tried to excuse himself, and began,- "I am too much of a gentleman to insult a woman."
The count interrupted him rudely, saying,- "Spare me, I pray, a rigmarole which cannot affect me. Besides, I do not blame you particularly. I know the heart of man too well not to be sure, that, in acting thus, you have followed much less the inspirations of your own heart than the suggestions made by my daughter."
It might have been very dangerous for Henrietta to allow the count to cherish such thoughts. Daniel, therefore, tried once more to explain.
"I a.s.sure you, count"- But the count interrupted him fiercely, stamping with his foot.
"No more! I mean to make an end to this absurd opposition, and to break it forever. Do they not know that I am master in my own house? and do they propose to treat me like a servant, and to laugh at me, into the bargain? I shall make you aware who is master."
He checked himself for an instant, and then continued,- "Ah, M. Champcey! I did not expect that from you. Poor Sarah! To think that I could not spare her such a humiliation! But it is the last; and this very morning, as soon as she wakes, she shall know that all is ended. I have just sent for my daughter to tell her that the day for the wedding is fixed. All the formalities are fulfilled. We have the necessary papers"- He paused, for Henrietta came in.
"You wish to speak to me, papa?" she said as she entered the room.
"Yes."
Greeting Daniel with a sweet glance of her eyes, Henrietta walked up to the count, and offered him her forehead to kiss; but he pushed her back rudely, and said, a.s.suming an air of supreme solemnity,- "I have sent for you, my daughter, to inform you that to-morrow fortnight I shall marry Miss Brandon."
Henrietta must have been prepared for something of the kind, for she did not move. She turned slightly pale; and a ray of wrath shot from her eyes. The count went on,- "Under these circ.u.mstances, it is not proper, it is hardly decent, that you should not know her who is to be your mother hereafter. I shall therefore present you to her this very day, in the afternoon."
The young girl shook her head gently, and then she said,- "No!"
Count Ville-Handry had become very red. He exclaimed,- "What! You dare! What would you say if I threatened to carry you forcibly to Miss Brandon"s house?"
"I, should say, father, that that is the only way to make me go there."
Her att.i.tude was firm, though not defiant. She spoke in a calm, gentle voice, but betrayed in every thing a resolution firmly formed, and not to be shaken by any thing. The count seemed to be perfectly amazed at this audacity shown by a girl who was usually so timid. He said,- "Then you detest, you envy, this Miss Brandon?"
"I, father? Why should I? Great G.o.d! I only know that she cannot become the Countess Ville-Handry,-she who has filled all Paris with evil reports."
"Who has told you so? No doubt, M. Champcey."
"Everybody has told me, father."
"So, because she has been slandered, the poor girl"- "I am willing to think she is innocent; but the Countess Ville-Handry must not be a slandered woman."
She raised herself to her full height, and added in a higher voice,- "You are master here, father; you can do as you choose. But I-I owe it to myself and to the sacred memory of my mother, to protest by all the means in my power; and I shall protest."
The count stammered and stared. The blood rose to his head. He cried out,- "At last I know you, Henrietta, and I understand you. I was not mistaken. It was you who sent M. Daniel Champcey to Miss Brandon, to insult her at her own house."
"Sir!" interrupted M. Daniel in a threatening tone.
But the count could not be restrained; and, with his eyes almost starting from their sockets, he continued,- "Yes, I read your innermost heart, Henrietta. You are afraid of losing a part of your inheritance."
Stung by this insult, Henrietta had stepped up close to her father,- "But don"t you see, father, that it is this woman who wants your fortune, and that she does not like us, and cannot like us?"
"Why, if you please?"
Once before, Count Ville-Handry had asked this question of his daughter in almost the same words. Then she had not dared answer him; but now, carried away by her bitterness at being insulted by a woman whom she despised, she forgot every thing. She seized her father"s hand, and, carrying him to a mirror, she said in a hoa.r.s.e voice,- ""Why?"-you ask. Well, look there! look at yourself!"
If Count Ville-Handry had trusted nature, he would have looked like a man of barely sixty, still quite robust and active. But he had allowed art to spoil every thing. And this morning, with his few hairs, half white, half dyed, with the rouge and the white paint of yesterday cracked, and fallen away in places, he looked as if he had lived a few thousand years.
Did he see himself as he really was,-hideous?
He certainly became livid; and coldly, for his excessive rage gave him the appearance of composure, he said,- "You are a wretch, Henrietta!"
And as she broke out in sobs, terrified by his words, he said,- "Oh, don"t play comedy! Presently, at four o"clock precisely, I shall call for you. If I find you dressed, and ready to accompany me to Miss Brandon"s house, all right. If not M. Champcey has been here for the last time in his life; and you will never-do you hear?-never be his wife. Now I leave you alone; you can reflect!"
And he went out, closing the door so violently, that the whole house seemed to shake.
"All is over!"
Both Henrietta and Daniel were crushed by this certain conviction.
The crisis could no longer be postponed. A few hours more, and the mischief would be done. Daniel was the first to shake off the stupor of despair; and, taking Henrietta"s hand, he asked her,- "You have heard what your father said. What will you do?"
"What I said I would do, whatever it may cost me."
"But could you yield?"
"Yield?" exclaimed the young girl.
And, looking at Daniel with grieved surprise, she added,- "Would you really dare give me that advice,-you who had only to look at Miss Brandon to lose your self-control so far as to overwhelm her with insults?"
"Henrietta, I swear"- "And this to such an extent, that father accused you of having done so at my bidding. Ah, you have been very imprudent, Daniel!"
The unhappy man wrung his hands with despair. What punishment he had to endure for a moment"s forgetfulness! He felt as if he had rendered himself guilty already by not revealing the mean conduct of M. Elgin and Mrs. Brian while Miss Brandon was driving about Paris. And now, at this very hour, he was put into a still more difficult position, because he could not even give a glimpse of the true state of things.
He said nothing; and Henrietta gloried in his silence.
"You see," she said, "that if your heart condemns me, your reason and your conscience approve of my decision."
He made no reply, but, rising suddenly, he began to walk up and down in the room like a wild beast searching for some outlet from the cage in which it has been imprisoned. He felt he was caught, hemmed in on all sides, and he could do nothing, nothing at all.
"Ah, we must surrender!" he exclaimed at last, overcome with grief; "we must do it; we are almost helpless. Let us give up the struggle; reason demands it. We have done enough; we have done our duty."
All trembling with pa.s.sion, he spoke on for some time, bringing up the most conclusive arguments, one by one; while his love lent him all its persuasive power. And at last it looked as if Henrietta"s determination were giving way, and she began to hesitate. It was so; but she was still struggling against her own emotion, and said in a half-suppressed tone,- "No doubt, Daniel, you think I am not yet wretched enough."
And then, fixing upon him a long, anxious glance, she added,- "Say no more, or I shall begin to fear that you are dreading the time which has still to elapse till we can be united, and that you doubt me-or yourself."
He blushed, finding himself thus half detected; but, given up entirely to sinister presentiments, he insisted,- "No, I do not doubt; but I cannot reconcile myself to the idea that you are going to live under the same roof with Miss Brandon, M. Elgin, and Mrs. Brian. Since this abominable adventuress must triumph, let us flee. I have in Anjou an old respectable kinswoman, who will be very proud to offer you her hospitality."
Henrietta stopped him by a gesture. Then she said,- "In other words, I who risk my happiness in order to avoid a blot upon the name of Ville-Handry, I should tarnish it in an almost ineffaceable manner. That cannot be."
"Henrietta!"
"No more. I stand upon a post of honor which I shall not abandon. The more formidable Miss Brandon is, the more it becomes my duty to remain here in order to watch over my father."
Daniel trembled.
He remembered suddenly what M. de Brevan had told him of the means employed by Miss Brandon for the purpose of getting rid of troublesome people. Did Henrietta"s instincts make her antic.i.p.ate a crime? No, not such a crime, at least.
"You will understand my decision all the better," she continued, "if I tell you what a strange discovery I have made. This morning a gentleman called here, who said he was a business-man, and had an appointment with Count Ville-Handry which was of the utmost importance.
"The servants had told him that their master was out. He became angry, and began to talk so loud, that I came to see what was the matter. When he saw me, and found out who I was, he at once became very quiet, and begged me to take charge of a rough copy of a legal paper, which he had been directed to prepare secretly, and which he desired me to hand to my father.
"I promised to do so; but, as I was carrying the paper up stairs to put it upon my father"s bureau, I happened to look at it. Do you know what it was? The statutes of a new society, of which father was to be president."
"Great G.o.d! Is it possible?"
"Most a.s.suredly, unfortunately. I saw on the top of the paper, "Count Ville-Handry, director in chief" and after the name followed all his t.i.tles, the high offices he has filled, and the French and foreign decorations which he has received."
Daniel could no longer doubt. He said,- "We knew that they would try to obtain possession of your father"s fortune, and now we have the proof of it. But what can we ever do, Henrietta, against the cunning manoeuvres of people like these?"
She bowed her head, and answered in a tone of resignation,- "I have heard it said that often the mere presence of an inoffensive child is sufficient to intimidate and frighten away the boldest criminals. If G.o.d wills it so, I will be that child."
Daniel tried once more to insist; but she cut him short, saying,- "You forget, my dear friend, that this is, perhaps for many years, the last time we shall ever be alone together. Let us think of the future. I have secured the confidence of one of my waiting-women, and to her you must direct your letters. Her name is Clarissa Pontois. If any grave and unforeseen necessity should arise, and it becomes absolutely necessary for me to see you, Clarissa will bring you the key of the little garden-gate, and you will come."
Both of them had their eyes filled with tears; and their hearts felt increasing anguish as the hand on the dial advanced. They knew they would have to part. Could they hope ever to meet again?
It struck four o"clock. Count Ville-Handry reappeared. Stung to the quick by what he called the insulting remarks of his daughter, he had stimulated the zeal of his valet; and that artist had evidently surpa.s.sed himself in the arrangement of the hair, and especially in the complexion.
"Well, Henrietta?" he asked.
"My decision remains unchanged, father."
The count was probably prepared for this answer; for he succeeded in controlling his fury.
"Once more, Henrietta," he said, "consider! Do not decide rashly, relying simply upon odious slanders."
He drew from his pocket a photograph, looked at it lovingly, and, handing it to his daughter, he added,- "Here is Miss Brandon"s portrait. Look at it, and see if she to whom G.o.d has given such a charming face, such sublime eyes, can have a bad heart."
For more than a minute Henrietta examined the likeness; and then, returning it to her father, she said coldly,- "This woman is beautiful beyond all conception. Now I can explain to myself that new society of which you are going to be director-general."
Count Ville-Handry turned pale under this "juncture," and cried in a terrible voice,- "Unhappy child! Unhappy child! You dare insult an angel?"
Maddened with rage, he had lifted up his hand, and was about to strike his daughter, when Daniel seized his wrist in his iron grasp, and threateningly, as if he himself was about to strike, he said,- "Ah, sir, have a care! have a care!"
The count cast upon him a look of concentrated hatred; but, regaining his self-control, he freed himself, and, pointing at the door, he said slowly,- "M. Champcey, I order you to leave this house instantly; and I forbid your ever coming back to it again. My servants will be informed, that, if any one of them ever allows you to cross the threshold of this house, he will be instantly dismissed. Go, sir!"
XI.
Twenty-four hours after Daniel had thus left Count Ville-Handry"s palace, pale and staggering, he had not yet entirely recovered from this last blow. He had made a mortal enemy of the man whom it was his greatest interest to manage; and this man, who of his own accord would have parted with him only regretfully, had now turned him disgracefully out of his house.
He could hardly account to himself for the way in which this had come about. Nay, more; retracing step by step, his conduct during the last few days, it appeared to him pitiful, absurd. And then all that had happened seemed to have turned against him.
He accused Fate, that blind G.o.ddess, who is always blamed by those who have not the courage to blame themselves. He was in this state of mind when there came to him, to his great surprise, a letter from Henrietta. Thus it was she who antic.i.p.ated him, and who, sure that he would be desperate, had the feminine delicacy to write to him almost cheerfully.
"Immediately after your departure, my dear Daniel, father ordered me up stairs, and decided that I should stay there till I should become more reasonable. I know I shall stay here a long time."
She concluded thus,- "What we want most of all, oh, my only friend! is courage. Will you have as much as your Henrietta?"