So I returned alone, and for some days Marguerite never spoke a word to me. What was still worse, M. Bevallan appeared at the castle, and she went for walks with him, leaving me in the company of Mlle. Helouin. I am afraid that I became very friendly with the pretty governess.
Nothing, however, that I ever said to her, or that she said to me, prepared me for the strange scene that happened to-night. As I was walking along the terrace, she came up and took my arm, and said, "Are you really my friend, Maxime?"
"Yes," I said.
"Then tell me the truth," she exclaimed. "Do you love me, or do you love Mademoiselle Marguerite?"
"Why do you bring in her name?" I said.
"Ah, you love her!" she cried fiercely; "or, rather, you love her fortune. But you shall never have it, Monsieur de Champcey. I know why you came here under a false name, and so shall she."
With a movement of anger she departed. I cannot continue here under suspicion of being a fortune-hunter, so I have written to Laubepin to obtain another situation for me.
_III.--Two on a Tower_
It is all over. Was it because she still only half believed the slanders spread against me that Marguerite again asked me to go for a walk with her? Oh, what an unfortunate wretch I am! We rode through the forest together to one of the most magnificent monuments in Brittany, the Castle of Elven. Finding the door unlocked, we tethered our horses in the deserted courtyard, and climbed up the narrow, winding staircase to the battlements. The sea of autumnal foliage below was bathed in the light of the setting sun, and for a long time we sat side by side in silence, gazing at the infinite distances.
"Come!" she said at last, in a low whisper, as the light died out of the sky. "It is finished!"
But on descending the dark staircase we found that the door of the keep was locked. No doubt the shepherd boy who looked after the castle had come and shut up the place while we were sitting, watching the sunset.
"Monsieur de Champcey," she said, in a cold, hard voice, "were there any scoundrels in your family before you?"
"Marguerite!" I cried.
"You paid that boy to lock us in," she exclaimed. "You think you will force me to marry you by compromising me in this manner. Do you think you will win my hand--and, what is more important to you still, my wretched wealth--by this trick? Rather than marry a scoundrel like you, I will shut myself up in a convent!"
Carried away by my feelings, I seized her two hands, and said, "Now listen, Marguerite. I love you, it is true. Never did man love more devotedly, yes, and more disinterestedly, than I do. But I swear that if I get out of this place alive I will never marry you until you are as poor as I am, or I as rich as you are. If you love me, as I think you do, fall on your knees and pray, for unless a miracle happens you will never see me again alive."
But a miracle did happen. I threw myself out of the window, and fell upon a branch of an oak-tree. It bent beneath my weight, and then broke; but it came so near the earth before breaking that if my left arm had not struck against the masonry I should have escaped uninjured. As it was, my arm was smashed, and I swooned away with the pain. When I came to, Marguerite was leaning out of the window, calling, "Maxime, speak to me! For the love of heaven, speak to me, and say you pardon me!"
I arose, saying, "I am not hurt. If you will only wait another hour, I will go home and get some one to let you out. Believe me, I will save your honour as I have saved my own."
Binding up my arm, I got on my horse, and galloped back to Laroque Castle. On the way I met Bevallan.
"Have you seen Mlle. Marguerite?" he said. "We are afraid she has got lost."
"I met her this afternoon," I replied. "She told me she was going for a ride to Elven Castle."
He rode off in the direction from which I had come, and when I returned from the doctor with my broken arm set and bandaged, Marguerite and Bevallan entered.
Hearing that I had had an accident, Madame Laroque came up late to-night to see me. Old Laroque has had a stroke of paralysis, she tells me, and she wishes to get the marriage contract between her daughter and Bevallan signed to-morrow. Laubepin is bringing the doc.u.ment.
_IV.---A Test Case_
I don"t know why I take the trouble to go on with this diary, but having begun it I may as well finish it. Laubepin wanted me to go into the drawing-room to witness the signing of the marriage contract, but happily I was too ill to leave my bed; not only was my arm very painful, but I was suffering from the shock of the fall. What an hour of misery I pa.s.sed before Mlle. de Porhoet-Gael appeared with the news of what had happened! Her sweet, kind old eyes were bright with joy.
"It is all over," she said. "Bevallan has gone, and young Helouin has also been turned out of the house."
I started up with surprise.
"Yes," she continued, with a smile, "the contract has not been signed.
Our friend Laubepin drew it up in such a way that the husband was not able to touch a penny of the wife"s money. M. Bevallan objected to this; while he and his lawyer were arguing the matter with Laubepin, Marguerite rose up.
""Throw the contract in the fire," she said, "and, mother, give this gentleman back the presents he sent to me."
"Laubepin threw the deed in the flames, and Marguerite and her mother walked out of the room.
""What is the meaning of this?" cried Bevallan.
""I will tell you," I answered. "A certain young lady was afraid that you were merely a fortune-hunter. She wanted to be certain of it, and now she is so."
"Thereupon I, too, left the room.
"But what is the matter with you, my dear boy? You are as pale as a corpse."
The fact was that the unexpected news aroused in me such a mixture of joyful and painful feelings that I fell back in a swoon. When I recovered, dear old Laubepin was standing by my bed.
"Will you not confide in me, my boy?" he said rather sadly. "Something, I can see, has happened which has made you miserable on the very day on which you should be full of joy. What is it?"
Moved by his sympathy, I gave him this diary to read, and poured out my very soul to him.
"It is useless for me," he said at last, "to conceal from you the fact that I sent you here with the design to marry you to Marguerite.
Everything at first went as well as I could wish, and Madame Laroque was delighted with the match. You and Marguerite were made for each other, and you fell in love almost at first sight. But this affair at the Castle of Elven is something I had not reckoned on. To leap out of the window at the risk of breaking your neck was, my romantic young friend, a sufficient demonstration of your disinterestedness. You need not have taken a solemn oath never to marry Marguerite until you were as rich as she is. What can you do now? You cannot forswear yourself, and you cannot suddenly make an immense fortune."
"I must depart with you," I said very sorrowfully. "There is no other way."
"No, Maxime," he replied, "you are too unwell to move. Remain here for one month longer; then, if you do not hear from me, return to Paris."
It is now a week since he left me, and I have seen no one for the last seven days but the servant who waits upon me. He tells me that Laroque has died, and that Marguerite and her mother, who have been tending him night and day, have worn themselves out, and are now laid up with some sort of fever. Mlle. de Porhoet is also very ill, and not expected to live. Since I am well enough to walk over to Mlle. de Porhoet. I am told that she keeps asking to see me.
_V.--Two in a Garden_
The little maid who came to open the door was weeping, and as I came in I was surprised to hear the voice of Laubepin.
"It is Maxime, Marguerite," he said.
Had Marguerite also risen up from a bed of sickness to see Mlle. de Porhoet? I sprang up the stairs, and entered the room.
"My poor, dear boy!" said Mlle. de Porhoet, in a strange, broken voice.
She was lying in bed. Laubepin, a priest, and a doctor were standing on one side, and Marguerite and her mother were kneeling down in prayer on the other. I saw at once that she was at the point of death, and knelt down beside Marguerite. The poor dying woman smiled faintly, and groped for my hand and put it in Marguerite"s, and then fell back on the pillow. She was dead.
Laubepin led me out of the room, and put a doc.u.ment in my hand. It was a will, and the ink on it was hardly dry. Mlle. de Porhoet had made me her heir.