"Let us understand each other," said their visitor. "There is not the faintest idea in the mind of one of us that Professor Frowenfeld is guilty of even an intention of wrong; otherwise I should not be here. He is a man simply incapable of anything ign.o.ble."
Clotilde was silent. Aurora answered promptly, with the air of one not to be excelled in generosity:
"Certainly, he is very incapabl"."
"Still," resumed the visitor, turning especially to Clotilde, "the known facts are these, according to his own statement: he was in the house of Palmyre on some legitimate business which, unhappily, he considers himself on some account bound not to disclose, and by some mistake of Palmyre"s old Congo woman, was set upon by her and wounded, barely escaping with a whole skull into the street, an object of public scandal. Laying aside the consideration of his feelings, his reputation is at stake and likely to be ruined unless the affair can be explained clearly and satisfactorily, and at once, by his friends."
"And you undertake--" began Aurora.
"Madame Nancanou," said Honore Grandissime, leaning toward her earnestly, "you know--I must beg leave to appeal to your candor and confidence--you know everything concerning Palmyre that I know. You know me, and who I am; you know it is not for me to undertake to confer with Palmyre. I know, too, her old affection for you; she lives but a little way down this street upon which you live; there is still daylight enough at your disposal; if you will, you can go to see her, and get from her a full and complete exoneration of this young man. She cannot come to you; she is not fit to leave her room."
"Cannot leave her room?"
"I am, possibly, violating confidence in this disclosure, but it is unavoidable--you have to know: she is not fully recovered from a pistol-shot wound received between two and three weeks ago."
"Pistol-shot wound!"
Both ladies started forward with open lips and exclamations of amazement.
"Received from a third person--not myself and not Professor Frowenfeld--in a desperate attempt made by her to avenge the wrongs which she has suffered, as you, Madam, as well as I, are aware, at the hands of--"
Aurora rose up with a majestic motion for the speaker to desist.
"If it is to mention the person of whom your allusion reminds me, that you have honored us with a call this evening, Monsieur--"
Her eyes were flashing as he had seen them flash in front of the Place d"Armes.
"I beg you not to suspect me of meanness," he answered, gently, and with a remonstrative smile. "I have been trying all day, in a way unnecessary to explain, to be generous."
"I suppose you are incapabl"," said Aurora, following her double meaning with that combination of mischievous eyes and unsmiling face of which she was master. She resumed her seat, adding: "It is generous for you to admit that Palmyre has suffered wrongs."
"It _would_ be," he replied, "to attempt to repair them, seeing that I am not responsible for them, but this I cannot claim yet to have done. I have asked of you, Madam, a generous act. I might ask another of you both jointly. It is to permit me to say without offence, that there is one man, at least, of the name of Grandissime who views with regret and mortification the yet deeper wrongs which you are even now suffering."
"Oh!" exclaimed Aurora, inwardly ready for fierce tears, but with no outward betrayal save a trifle too much grace and an over-bright smile, "Monsieur is much mistaken; we are quite comfortable and happy, wanting nothing, eh, Clotilde?--not even our rights, ha, ha!"
She rose and let Alphonsina in. The bundle was still in the negress"s arms. She pa.s.sed through the room and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
"Oh! no, sir, not at all," repeated Aurora, as she once more sat down.
"You ought to want your rights," said M. Grandissime. "You ought to have them."
"You think so?"
Aurora was really finding it hard to conceal her growing excitement, and turned, with a faint hope of relief, toward Clotilde.
Clotilde, looking only at their visitor, but feeling her mother"s glance, with a tremulous and half-choked voice, said eagerly:
"Then why do you not give them to us?"
"Ah!" interposed Aurora, "we shall get them to-morrow, when the sheriff comes."
And, thereupon what did Clotilde do but sit bolt upright, with her hands in her lap, and let the tears roll, tear after tear, down her cheeks.
"Yes, Monsieur," said Aurora, smiling still, "those that you see are really tears. Ha, ha, ha! excuse me, I really have to laugh; for I just happened to remember our meeting at the masked ball last September. We had such a pleasant evening and were so much indebted to you for our enjoyment,--particularly myself,--little thinking, you know, that you were one of that great family which believes we ought to have our rights, you know. There are many people who ought to have their rights.
There was Bras-Coupe; indeed, he got them--found them in the swamp.
Maybe Clotilde and I shall find ours in the street. When we unmasked in the theatre, you know, I did not know you were my landlord, and you did not know that I could not pay a few picayunes of rent. But you must excuse those tears; Clotilde is generally a brave little woman, and would not be so rude as to weep before a stranger; but she is weak to-day--we are both weak to-day, from the fact that we have eaten nothing since early morning, although we have abundance of food--for want of appet.i.te, you understand. You must sometimes be affected the same way, having the care of so much wealth _of all sorts_."
Honore Grandissime had risen to his feet and was standing with one hand on the edge of the lofty mantel, his hat in the other dropped at his side and his eye fixed upon Aurora"s beautiful face, whence her small nervous hand kept dashing aside the tears through which she defiantly talked and smiled. Clotilde sat with clenched hands buried in her lap, looking at Aurora and still weeping.
And M. Grandissime was saying to himself:
"If I do this thing now--if I do it here--I do it on an impulse; I do it under constraint of woman"s tears; I do it because I love this woman; I do it to get out of a corner; I do it in weakness, not in strength; I do it without having made up my mind whether or not it is the best thing to do."
And then, without intention, with scarcely more consciousness of movement than belongs to the undermined tree which settles, roots and all, into the swollen stream, he turned and moved toward the door.
Clotilde rose.
"Monsieur Grandissime."
He stopped and looked back.
"We will see Palmyre at once, according to your request."
He turned his eyes toward Aurora.
"Yes," said she, and she buried her face in her handkerchief and sobbed aloud.
She heard his footstep again; it reached the door; the door opened--closed; she heard his footstep again; was he gone?
He was gone.
The two women threw themselves into each other"s arms and wept.
Presently Clotilde left the room. She came back in a moment from the rear apartment, with a bonnet and veil in her hands.
"No," said Aurora, rising quickly, "I must do it."
"There is no time to lose," said Clotilde. "It will soon be dark."
It was hardly a minute before Aurora was ready to start. A kiss, a sorrowful look of love exchanged, the veil dropped over the swollen eyes, and Aurora was gone.
A minute pa.s.sed, hardly more, and--what was this?--the soft patter of Aurora"s knuckles on the door.
"Just here at the corner I saw Palmyre leaving her house and walking down the rue Royale. We must wait until morn--"
Again a footfall on the doorstep, and the door, which was standing ajar, was pushed slightly by the force of the masculine knock which followed.
"Allow me," said the voice of Honore Grandissime, as Aurora bowed at the door. "I should have handed you this; good-day."