CHAPTER II.
Inexorably the important morrow came: irretrievably, for good or forevil, the momentous marriage-vow was pronounced. Charles Danville andRose Trudaine were now man and wife. The prophecy of the magnificentsunset overnight had not proved false. It was a cloudless day onthe marriage morning. The nuptial ceremonies had proceeded smoothlythroughout, and had even satisfied Madame Danville. She returned withthe wedding-party to Trudaine's house, all smiles and serenity. Tothe bride she was graciousness itself. "Good girl," said the old lady,following Rose into a corner, and patting her approvingly on the cheekwith her fan; "good girl, you have looked well this morning--you havedone credit to my son's taste. Indeed, you have pleased me, child! Nowgo upstairs, and get on your traveling-dress, and count on my maternalaffection as long as you make Charles happy."
It had been arranged that the bride and bridegroom should pass theirhoneymoon in Brittany, and then return to Danville's estate near Lyons.The parting was hurried over, as all such partings should be. Thecarriage had driven off; Trudaine, after lingering long to look afterit, had returned hastily to the house; the very dust of the whirlingwheels had all dispersed; there was absolutely nothing to see; and yetthere stood Monsieur Lomaque at the outer gate; idly, as if he was anindependent man--calmly, as if no such responsibilities as the callingof Madame Danville's coach, and the escorting of Madame Danville back toLyons, could possibly rest on his shoulders.
Idly and calmly, slowly rubbing his hands one over the other, slowlynodding his head in the direction by which the bride and bridegroomhad departed, stood the eccentric land-steward at the outer gate. Ona sudden the sound of footsteps approaching from the house seemed toarouse him. Once more he looked out into the road, as if he expectedstill to see the carriage of the newly-married couple. "Poor girl! ah,poor girl!" said Monsieur Lomaque softly to himself, turning round toascertain who was coming from the house.
It was only the postman with a letter in his hand, and the post-bagcrumpled up under his arm.
"Any fresh news from Paris, friend?" asked Lomaque.
"Very bad, monsieur," answered the postman. "Camille Desmoulins hasappealed to the people in the Palais Royal; there are fears of a riot."
"Only a riot!" repeated Lomaque, sarcastically. "Oh, what a braveGovernment not to be afraid of anything worse! Any letters?" he added,hastily dropping the subject.
"None _to_ the house," said the postman, "only one _from_ it, given meby Monsieur Trudaine. Hardly worth while," he added, twirling the letterin his hand, "to put it into the bag, is it?"
Lomaque looked over his shoulder as he spoke, and saw that the letterwas directed to the President of the Academy of Sciences, Paris.
"I wonder whether he accepts the place or refuses it?" thought theland-steward, nodding to the postman, and continuing on his way back tothe house.
At the door he met Trudaine, who said to him, rather hastily, "You aregoing back to Lyons with Madame Danville, I suppose?"
"This very day," answered Lomaque.
"If you should hear of a convenient bachelor lodging, at Lyons, or nearit," continued the other, dropping his voice and speaking more rapidlythan before, "you would be doing me a favor if you would let me knowabout it."
Lomaque assented; but before he could add a question which was on thetip of his tongue, Trudaine had vanished in the interior of the house.
"A bachelor lodging!" repeated the land-steward, standing alone on thedoorstep. "At or near Lyons! Aha! Monsieur Trudaine, I put your bachelorlodging and your talk to me last night together, and I make out a sumtotal which is, I think, pretty near the mark. You have refused thatParis appointment, my friend; and I fancy I can guess why."
He paused thoughtfully, and shook his head with ominous frowns andbitings of his lips.
"All clear enough in that sky," he continued, after a while, looking upat the lustrous midday heaven. "All clear enough there; but I think Isee a little cloud rising in a certain household firmament already--alittle cloud which hides much, and which I for one shall watchcarefully."
PART SECOND.
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