CHAPTER V
A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE
De Launay expressed himself as quite willing to look after most of thedetails of the affair, and Solange, although capable, being more orless ignorant, was willing to leave them to him, although with somemisgiving. The sight of that stack of saucers in the caf? of the PinkKitten remained to haunt her with distaste for the whole adventure.She distrusted De Launay, recalling some of the more lurid tales shehad heard of his exploits. In spite of everything, he had been al?gionnaire, and l?gionnaires could hardly be purified even in thefires of war. Before he arrived at her apartment to go with her to the_mairie_ of that _arrondissement_, she was to suffer furthermisgiving. Ahead of him arrived a gorgeous bouquet of lilies of thevalley and orange blossoms, and they were not artificial flowers,either. When he arrived, looking much more respectable than she hadexpected, his mustache even twisted jauntily and his clothes pressedto neatness, she met him with accusation.
"Is it monsieur that I have to thank for--these?" she indicated theflowers with expressive and disdainful hands. De Launay stared atthem vacantly as he stood in the door.
"I suppose it must have been," he said, meekly. "I am forgetful,mademoiselle. You must make allowances for a broken soldier ifmy--vagaries--occasionally offend you."
"It is in bad taste, to say the least, to bedeck the bride in such aceremony," she said cuttingly. "If I must hire a husband, he need not,at least, forget decency and make me conspicuous. Remember that."
"The flowers," said De Launay, "are as if they had never been. Idismiss them from the earth. With another drink or two I will cease torecall that such things as flowers exist. Mademoiselle will commandme!"
Solange tossed the offending blossoms on the floor and walked outahead of him. He followed at her side but a step behind, and shestalked with face turned forward out to the street and toward the_mairie_. Yet, in spite of all precautions some wind of her intentionsmust have got about, for more than one old woman or wounded soldierspoke to her and uttered a blessing and good wishes as she walkedalong. To all of them she returned greetings in kind, thanking themsoberly, but with a lip that trembled. De Launay, rolling behind, wasthe recipient of curious and doubtful glances, as the man who wastaking their Morgan _la f?e_ from them. Yet here and there a soldierrecognized him and came to a stiff salute, and when this was the casea murmur informing others ran about, and all doubt seemed to die, thegreetings growing more cheerful and the blessings being addressed toboth of them. This annoyed Solange more than the flowers had done.
"Is it that I am honored by having this mercenary drunkard for ahusband?" she said to herself. "_Mon Dieu!_ One would think so!"
Yet she could find nothing really offensive in his attitude to theaffair, unless that he was almost too respectful. She suspected thathe had been drinking and that his air was due to the exaggerationinduced by liquor--or else, and that was worse--he was deliberately,with drunken humor, making a burlesque of his very deference.
The signing of the contract and the ceremony before the _maire_ weresuccessfully completed and De Launay turned to her with a deep bow.The _maire_, puzzled at the utterly emotionless quality of thiswedding, congratulated them formally, and Solange acknowledged it withstiff thanks and a smile as stiff and mirthless. But it was to DeLaunay that the official showed the deepest respect, and that angeredher again.
Her pride was restored somewhat after they had left the _mairie_ andwere on their way back to her rooms. A squat, swarthy individual, inthe dingy uniform of the French marines, doffed his cap and steppedup to them, speaking to Solange in French, tinged with a broad Bretonaccent.
"And is it true, Morgan _la f?e_," he asked, ducking his head, "thatthis man has been married to you?"
"Why, yes, it is true, Brebon," she answered, kindly. The man lookedsearchingly into her face, observing the coldness of it.
"If it is by your will, mademoiselle," he answered, "it is well. But,"and he swung his lowering head on its bull neck toward De Launay, "ifthis man who has taken you should ever make you regret, you shall letme know, Morgan _la f?e_! If he causes you a single tear, I shall makesausage meat out of him with a knife!"
Solange shook her head in protest, but just behind her she heard a lowlaugh from De Launay.
"But, _mon brave_," said he, "you would find this one a tough swine tocarve!"
The Breton stared at him like a sullen and dangerous bull and movedaway, saying no more. But Solange felt cheered. There were some whoregarded her ahead of this soldier of fortune whom she had hired tomasquerade as her husband.
She had little to cheer her in the next few days before she took thetrain for Le Havre. In the neighborhood where her marriage had becomeknown, the fact that De Launay had left her at her door and came tosee her only occasionally and then stayed but a moment was a fruitfulsubject of comment. What sort of a marriage was this! Suspicion began,gradually, to take the place of confidence in her. The women that hadbeen her worshiping friends now spoke behind her back, hinting at somescandal. Nasty tales began to circulate as feminine jealousy got theupper hand. In the presence of soldiers these tongues were silent, butthere were other males in the quarter who were not soldiers. Big,beefy Achille Marot, who kept the butcher shop on the corner had neverbeen one, except in the reserve, where he had done some police dutybehind the front. And Marot was a bully, foul of mind and foul ofmouth. The whispers of the women were meat and drink to him. Solangehad seen fit to resent in a practical manner some of his freedoms. Herpoilu friends had nearly wrecked his shop for him on that occasion.But now she was married--this was said with a suggestive raise of theshoulders and eyebrows--and the poilus were not so much in evidence.
"Ah! what have I always said to you about this one!" Marot remarked asSolange passed his shop on her way to her rooms one day. He waslooking out at her and smirking at Madame Ricot, the neighborhoodgossip and scold. "Is this what one calls a marriage? Rather is itthat such a marriage indicates that a marriage was necessary--andarranged conveniently, is it not? For observe that this brokenadventurer who, as I know, was kicked out of the army in disgrace, isnot a real husband at all, as every one may see. It is reasonable tosuppose, therefore, that the affair has been arranged to hidesomething, is it not?"
A hand that was like steel closed on the beefy neck of the butcher anda calm voice behind him spoke in his ear.
"Now here is a word for you, my friend, from De Launay, thel?gionnaire, and you will do well to remember it! A tongue that isevil will win you an evil end and words that are not true will resultin your throat being cut before you know it. Realize that, Marot, myfriend, and say again that De Launay was kicked out of the army!"
"Death of a dog!" sputtered the butcher, twisting in the iron grasp onhis neck. "I will slit thy belly----"
"Thou wilt do nothing but root in the mud as is thy nature," said DeLaunay and kicked him vigorously into the gutter where he did, indeed,plow the filth with his nose. Madame Ricot uttered a shrill shriek forthe police, and Solange, who had been unconscious of it all, turnedabout to see De Launay standing on the sidewalk brushing his handswhile the butcher rolled in the mud. At this moment a gendarme camerunning up.
"Take that carrion and lock him up!" said De Launay, calmly. "I accusehim of public indecency, spreading scandal and criminal slander. Hehas said that I, the General de Launay, was kicked out of the armyfor unmentioned crimes. I will prefer charges against him in themorning."
"_Monsieur le g?n?ral_, it shall be done," said the gendarme, with asmart salute. He grabbed the groveling butcher and hoisted him fromhis wallow. "Come along with me, Marot! I have long had my eye onthee! And is there a charge against the woman, my general?"
Madame Ricot was gaping wide-mouthed and silent at the unexpectedresult of her appeal to the forces of the law. And now she shrankfearfully back toward the gathering crowd.
"There is no charge--as yet," said De Launay. "But she is suspected ofbeing a procuress and a vile scold. If it is she who has been injuringrespected reput
ations, I shall soon know it, and then----"
"I shall be at your service, my general," the gendarme assured him,and, with another salute, departed, jerking the roaring Marot withhim. De Launay sauntered on, with his rolling walk, toward Solange,who turned and walked away from him so that he did not overtake heruntil they had come to her apartment.
"There is entirely too much gossip in this quarter," said De Launay,casually, as she wheeled about at the entrance to her rooms. "It isjust as well that you are getting out of it."
"It is just as well," agreed Solange, angrily. "For if I remain heremuch longer the gossip that you arouse will ruin me."
"Again," said De Launay, rather dryly, "I apologize."
Solange was left to feel at fault. She knew that she had been unjust,but De Launay's casual ways and his very indifferent deference angeredher. Yet it could not last much longer since they were to take a trainfor Le Havre that evening and sail upon the following day. De Launayhad called regarding the final arrangements.
Her passports had been secured and her passage on the _Astarte_, ofthe Blue Star line, was arranged for. How this had been done she didnot inquire, remaining in ignorance of efforts spent by De Launay insecuring the intercession of the French and American militaryauthorities in order that she might have suitable accommodations onthe crowded liner, which was being used as a troopship. A highdignitary of an allied nation had had to postpone his sailing in orderthat Madame de Launay might travel in a first-class stateroom.
Even so, the girl, concerned chiefly with her own adventure, andstrange to the conditions existing, suspected nothing. The littlestateroom was none too luxurious, for the _Astarte_ was not one of thebest boats, and four or five years of war service had not improvedher. And she had no notion that De Launay, even for such comfort asthis, had paid an exorbitant price out of his own pocket. He had givenher the rate of the second-cabin berth, a dingy little insidecubby-hole, which he himself occupied.
The voyage was long and slow and dull. The swarming troops andmilitary men crowded the ship to embarrassing fullness and Solangekept mostly to her cabin. She saw little of De Launay, who had not therun of the upper decks as she had, though his rank was recognized andhe was made free of the lounge where the military men congregated. Sheheard somewhat of him, however, and what she heard angered her stillmore. It was chiefly in the line of gossip and conjecture as to whyMadame de Launay, who seemed to be distinguished because she _was_Madame de Launay, should be traveling alone, first class, while thefamous soldier shared a stuffy hole in the wall with a Chicagomerchant. The few women aboard, nurses, Y.?M.?C.?A. workers, welfareworkers on war missions, picked up the talk among the officers andpassed their curiosity on to Solange through stewardesses and maids.Every one seemed to think it strange, and Solange acknowledged that itwas strange--stranger than they thought. But the thing that rankledwas the fact that the assiduous care of the stewardess, her veryobsequiousness, seemed to emanate from De Launay. It was because shewas De Launay's wife that she was a figure of importance--althoughshe pictured him as a discredited mercenary who was even now,probably, indulging his bestial appetite for liquor in the officers'lounge and boasting of his exploits to a congenial audience.
Her one consoling thought was that it could not last much longer.True, New York would not mean the last of him since he was toaccompany her to her destination, but that should not take long. Onceat Sulphur Falls, which she understood to be her final railroadstation, he could be relegated to his proper place.
Something like this did happen, though not in the measure sheanticipated. They landed in New York on a chill, rainy day, and DeLaunay appeared at the gangway with his usual rolling gait, as thoughhalf intoxicated, eyes half closed and indifferent. His bow was almostmocking, she thought, with the flash of irritation that he alwaysaroused in her. Other passengers looked at him curiously and atherself with some wonder, whispers running among them. Behind her veilshe flushed, realizing that her own personality was not so much thesubject of interest as his. She was uncomfortably aware that he was astriking figure, tall and handsome in spite of his careless demeanorand slouching walk. It was all the more reprehensible that such a manshould make so little of himself.
But De Launay led her through the customs with a word that workedlike magic and soon had her in a taxicab. He took her to a small andgood hotel, not at all conspicuous, and saw that she was properlytaken care of and supplied with American currency. Then, as she turnedto follow the bell boy to her rooms, he bowed again. But she hesitateda moment.
"May I ask," she said, with some contrition roused by his care of her,"where you are going?"
"To my usual haunts, mademoiselle," he answered, carelessly. "But Ishall be within reach. To-morrow afternoon the train leaves for theWest. I will see that everything goes well."
"See that it goes well with you," she answered, a little tartly, "ifnot for your own sake, then for mine."
"Things go--as they go, with me," he answered, with a shrug. Solangeturned away, but she felt somewhat more kindly toward him.
In part this was due to the fact that she was no longer overshadowedby him. The hotel clerks knew nothing of him. As soon as he passedwithout the zone of military activities, he became nothing and no one.They only knew that they had been liberally tipped to afford Madame deLaunay every service and comfort, and, as her appearance was strikingand distinguished, they rendered the service with an impressiveenthusiasm. From this point on De Launay took his rightful place as amere appanage.
When they left New York Solange was apparently in full control and DeLaunay a mere courier. Used to short European trips, it did not occurto her that the price for which she secured drawing-roomaccommodations on the Twentieth Century Limited was ridiculously low,and as De Launay had proved capable of handling such matters, and shewas a stranger, she gladly and unquestioningly left such things in hishands. He, himself, had a berth in some obscure part of the train andremained there. The maid and the porter of her car hovered around herwith solicitude, and she became very favorably impressed with thekindliness and generosity of America, extended, apparently, withoutthought of reward.
At Chicago De Launay again showed himself in what she supposed was histrue light. He had seen her to a hotel for the two or three hours theyhad to wait there and had escorted her back to her train again. Whileshe was settling herself in her compartment she chanced to look out ofthe window before the train left the station and perceived her escortconversing with an individual who was not prepossessing. It was ashort, broad man, dressed roughly, wearing boots covered by histrousers and with a handkerchief knotted about his neck. He wore awide-brimmed, high-crowned felt hat, old and battered, its brimcurled disreputably at all angles. She perceived that, after a fewwords together, this fellow and De Launay appeared to be on the bestof terms, shaking hands cordially, conversing with much laughter andan occasional slap on the back. Finally the man, in the shelter of atruck loaded with baggage, produced a bottle from his hip pocket andoffered it to De Launay who, with a preliminary salute, lifted it tohis mouth. After which he wiped the neck of it with his hand andpassed it back, the man duplicating his action.
The train was about to start and, with a few hilarious farewells, theyparted and De Launay rolled in her direction while the other trampstrolled away at a gait very much like the general's. Two of a kind,she thought, bitterly; two ruffians who were hail-fellow-well-met--andshe was married to one of them! A soldier of France, a distinguishedgeneral, to descend to this level! It was almost inconceivable.
But the train started and the long journey began.
Hour after hour the landscape flashed past the windows. Day faded tonight, and Solange slept as best she could on the reeling train. Inthe morning she awoke to pass another weary time of gazing from thewindows at the endless checkerboard of prairie farms rolling past,divided into monotonous squares by straight, dusty roads, each withits house and big red barn forming an exact replica of every other.She ate and dozed, tried to read a magazine but found
the English morethan usually difficult to understand, though ordinarily she read itwith facility. Now her thoughts were in French and they persisted incoming back to her mission and to the man who accompanied her.
Another long, almost endless day of blatant sun and baked, brownprairie, passing by almost imperceptible degrees into wide plains,flat and dry, cut by wire fences here and there, but no longercheckerboarded in a maddening monotony of pattern. No longer did thehouses and red barns succeed one another at exact intervals. In factthey seemed to have almost disappeared and had changed theircharacter, such of them as she saw. They were rough, unpainted boardaffairs, for the most part, with here and there a more pretentiousedifice. But in any case they were scarce and far apart. Low,grass-roofed dugouts also were to be seen at times, but, generallyspeaking, the view presented almost nothing but an endless vista ofrolling, baked plain, covered with scattering grass and dusty graysage.
And then, far ahead, a dim blue line against the horizon, themountains appeared. When she awoke in the morning they were rollingmajestically through wild gorges under towering peaks clad in snow.Pines and firs shaded the slopes, and the biting, rare air of thepeaks burned her lungs. She forgot De Launay, forgot the depressionthat had grown upon her with the realization of the immensity intowhich she was plunging, and felt her spirit soaring in exhilarationand hopes of success. Mountain born and bred, she reacted buoyantly tothe inspiration of the environment. The preposterous nature of herquest, a realization of which had been growing upon her, as theendless miles unrolled before her, was forgotten. She felt at home andat ease in the rugged hills, capable of doing anything she set out todo, no longer fettered with the binding restrictions of civilizationand no longer bound by the cold laws of probability.
She wanted to summon De Launay, to point out to him the glories of thelandscape and to let its purity and strength sink into him for thesalvation of his manhood. But he remained aloof, lost, she surmised,in the buffet, drinking illicit liquor with disreputable booncompanions.
Then, in time, they passed the mountain rampart, though they neveragain got entirely out of sight of it, and descended into otherdesolate plains, broken here and there by patches of green and fertileland where villages and farms stood. Beside a leaden, surging inlandsea, across a vast plain of alkali, plunging through enormous gorgescut out of the solid, towering rock, they entered mountains again, andagain shot out onto barren plains, now, however, rusty brown and roughwith broken and jagged lava. Another night was descending when, withdefiant shrieks of the whistle, the train shot out upon a vast benchand, with flickering electric lights flashing past the windows, andglass reflecting back its blazing stack, it rolled with tolling bellinto a station. The porter appeared.
"Sulphuh Falls, ma'am! Hoyeah's whah you gits off!"
Then De Launay lurched into view behind the porter and she felt asudden revulsion against the thrill of interest and anticipation thathad seized her.
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