XIII
Autumn had come. The Du Roys had passed the whole of the summer inParis, carrying on a vigorous campaign in the _Vie Francaise_ during theshort vacation of the deputies.
Although it was only the beginning of October, the Chambers were aboutto resume their sittings, for matters as regarded Morocco were becomingthreatening. No one at the bottom believed in an expedition againstTangiers, although on the day of the prorogation of the Chamber, adeputy of the Right, Count de Lambert-Serrazin, in a witty speech,applauded even by the Center had offered to stake his moustache, afterthe example of a celebrated Viceroy of the Indies, against the whiskersof the President of the Council, that the new Cabinet could not helpimitating the old one, and sending an army to Tangiers, as a pendant tothat of Tunis, out of love of symmetry, as one puts two vases on afireplace.
He had added: "Africa is indeed, a fireplace for France, gentleman--afireplace which consumes our best wood; a fireplace with a strongdraught, which is lit with bank notes. You have had the artistic fancyof ornamenting the left-hand corner with a Tunisian knick-knack whichhad cost you dear. You will see that Monsieur Marrot will want toimitate his predecessor, and ornament the right-hand corner with onefrom Morocco."
This speech, which became famous, served as a peg for Du Roy for a halfa score of articles upon the Algerian colony--indeed, for the entireseries broken short off after his _debut_ on the paper. He hadenergetically supported the notion of a military expedition, althoughconvinced that it would not take place. He had struck the chord ofpatriotism, and bombarded Spain with the entire arsenal of contemptuousarguments which we make use of against nations whose interests arecontrary to our own. The _Vie Francaise_ had gained considerableimportance through its own connection with the party in office. Itpublished political intelligence in advance of the most importantpapers, and hinted discreetly the intentions of its friends theMinistry, so that all the papers of Paris and the provinces took theirnews from it. It was quoted and feared, and people began to respect it.It was no longer the suspicious organ of a knot of political jugglers,but the acknowledged one of the Cabinet. Laroche-Mathieu was the soul ofthe paper, and Du Roy his mouthpiece. Daddy Walter, a silent member anda crafty manager, knowing when to keep in the background, was busyinghimself on the quiet, it is said, with an extensive transaction withsome copper mines in Morocco.
Madeleine's drawing-room had been an influential center, in whichseveral members of the Cabinet met every week. The President of theCouncil had even dined twice at her house, and the wives of thestatesmen who had formerly hesitated to cross her threshold now boastedof being her friends, and paid her more visits than were returned byher. The Minister for Foreign Affairs reigned almost as a master in thehousehold. He called at all hours, bringing dispatches, news, items ofinformation, which he dictated either to the husband or the wife, as ifthey had been his secretaries.
When Du Roy, after the minister's departure, found himself alone withMadeleine, he would break out in a menacing tone with bitterinsinuations against the goings-on of this commonplace parvenu.
But she would shrug her shoulders contemptuously, repeating: "Do as muchas he has done yourself. Become a minister, and you can have your ownway. Till then, hold your tongue."
He twirled his moustache, looking at her askance: "People do not know ofwhat I am capable," he said, "They will learn it, perhaps, some day."
She replied, philosophically: "Who lives long enough will see it."
The morning on which the Chambers reassembled the young wife, still inbed, was giving a thousand recommendations to her husband, who wasdressing himself in order to lunch with M. Laroche-Mathieu, and receivehis instructions prior to the sitting for the next day's politicalleader in the _Vie Francaise_, this leader being meant to be a kind ofsemi-official declaration of the real objects of the Cabinet.
Madeleine was saying: "Above all, do not forget to ask him whetherGeneral Belloncle is to be sent to Oran, as has been reported. Thatwould mean a great deal."
George replied irritably: "But I know just as well as you what I have todo. Spare me your preaching."
She answered quietly: "My dear, you always forget half the commissions Ientrust you with for the minister."
He growled: "He worries me to death, that minister of yours. He is anincompoop."
She remarked quietly: "He is no more my minister than he is yours. He ismore useful to you than to me."
He turned half round towards her, saying, sneeringly: "I beg yourpardon, but he does not pay court to me."
She observed slowly: "Nor to me either; but he is making our fortune."
He was silent for a few moments, and then resumed: "If I had to make achoice among your admirers, I should still prefer that old fossil DeVaudrec. What has become of him, I have not seen him for a week?"
"He is unwell," replied she, unmoved. "He wrote to me that he was evenobliged to keep his bed from an attack of gout. You ought to call andask how he is. You know he likes you very well, and it would pleasehim."
George said: "Yes, certainly; I will go some time to-day."
He had finished his toilet, and, hat on head, glanced at himself in theglass to see if he had neglected anything. Finding nothing, he came upto the bed and kissed his wife on the forehead, saying: "Good-bye, dear,I shall not be in before seven o'clock at the earliest."
And he went out. Monsieur Laroche-Mathieu was awaiting him, for he waslunching at ten o'clock that morning, the Council having to meet atnoon, before the opening of Parliament. As soon as they were seated attable alone with the minister's private secretary, for MadameLaroche-Mathieu had been unwilling to change her own meal times, Du Royspoke of his article, sketched out the line he proposed to take,consulting notes scribbled on visiting cards, and when he had finished,said: "Is there anything you think should be modified, my dearminister?"
"Very little, my dear fellow. You are perhaps a trifle too stronglyaffirmative as regards the Morocco business. Speak of the expedition asif it were going to take place; but, at the same time, letting it beunderstood that it will not take place, and that you do not believe init in the least in the world. Write in such a way that the public caneasily read between the lines that we are not going to poke our nosesinto that adventure."
"Quite so. I understand, and I will make myself thoroughly understood.My wife commissioned me to ask you, on this point, whether GeneralBelloncle will be sent to Oran. After what you have said, I conclude hewill not."
The statesman answered, "No."
Then they spoke of the coming session. Laroche-Mathieu began to spout,rehearsing the phrases that he was about to pour forth on his colleaguesa few hours later. He waved his right hand, raising now his knife, nowhis fork, now a bit of bread, and without looking at anyone, addressinghimself to the invisible assembly, he poured out his dulcet eloquence,the eloquence of a good-looking, dandified fellow. A tiny, twistedmoustache curled up at its two ends above his lip like scorpion's tails,and his hair, anointed with brilliantine and parted in the middle, waspuffed out like his temples, after the fashion of a provinciallady-killer. He was a little too stout, puffy, though still young, andhis stomach stretched his waistcoat.
The private secretary ate and drank quietly, no doubt accustomed tothese floods of loquacity; but Du Roy, whom jealousy of achieved successcut to the quick, thought: "Go on you proser. What idiots thesepolitical jokers are." And comparing his own worth to the frothyimportance of the minister, he said to himself, "By Jove! if I had onlya clear hundred thousand francs to offer myself as a candidate at home,near Rouen, and dish my sunning dullards of Normandy folk in their ownsauce, what a statesman I should make beside these short-sightedrascals!"
Monsieur Laroche-Mathieu went on spouting until coffee was served; then,seeing that he was behind hand, he rang for his brougham, and holdingout his hand to the journalist, said: "You quite understand, my dearfellow?"
"Perfectly, my dear minister; you may rely upon me."
And Du Roy strolled leisurely to the office
to begin his article, for hehad nothing to do till four o'clock. At four o'clock he was to meet, atthe Rue de Constantinople, Madame de Marelle, whom he met thereregularly twice a week--on Mondays and Fridays. But on reaching theoffice a telegram was handed to him. It was from Madame Walter, and ranas follows: "I must see you to-day. Most important. Expect me at twoo'clock, Rue de Constantinople. Can render you a great service. Tilldeath.--Virginie."
He began to swear: "Hang it all, what an infernal bore!" And seized witha fit of ill-temper, he went out again at once too irritated to work.
For six weeks he had been trying to break off with her, without beingable to wear out her eager attachment. She had had, after her fall, afrightful fit of remorse, and in three successive rendezvous hadoverwhelmed her lover with reproaches and maledictions. Bored by thesescenes and already tired of this mature and melodramatic conquest, hehad simply kept away, hoping to put an end to the adventure in that way.But then she had distractedly clutched on to him, throwing herself intothis amour as a man throws himself into a river with a stone about hisneck. He had allowed himself to be recaptured out of weakness andconsideration for her, and she had enwrapt him in an unbridled andfatiguing passion, persecuting him with her affection. She insisted onseeing him every day, summoning him at all hours to a hasty meeting at astreet corner, at a shop, or in a public garden. She would then repeatto him in a few words, always the same, that she worshiped and idolizedhim, and leave him, vowing that she felt so happy to have seen him. Sheshowed herself quite another creature than he had fancied her, strivingto charm him with puerile glances, a childishness in love affairsridiculous at her age. Having remained up till then strictly honest,virgin in heart, inaccessible to all sentiment, ignorant of sensuality,a strange outburst of youthful tenderness, of ardent, naive and tardylove, made up of unlooked-for outbursts, exclamations of a girl ofsixteen, graces grown old without ever having been young, had takenplace in this staid woman. She wrote him ten letters a day, maddeninglyfoolish letters, couched in a style at once poetic and ridiculous, fullof the pet names of birds and beasts.
As soon as they found themselves alone together she would kiss him withthe awkward prettiness of a great tomboy, pouting of the lips that weregrotesque, and bounds that made her too full bosom shake beneath herbodice. He was above all, sickened with hearing her say, "My pet," "Mydoggie," "My jewel," "My birdie," "My treasure," "My own," "Myprecious," and to see her offer herself to him every time with a littlecomedy of infantile modesty, little movements of alarm that she thoughtpretty, and the tricks of a depraved schoolgirl. She would ask, "Whosemouth is this?" and when he did not reply "Mine," would persist till shemade him grow pale with nervous irritability. She ought to have felt, itseemed to him, that in love extreme tact, skill, prudence, and exactnessare requisite; that having given herself to him, she, a woman of matureyears, the mother of a family, and holding a position in society, shouldyield herself gravely, with a kind of restrained eagerness, with tears,perhaps, but with those of Dido, not of Juliet.
She kept incessantly repeating to him, "How I love you, my little pet.Do you love me as well, baby?"
He could no longer bear to be called "my little pet," or "baby," withoutan inclination to call her "old girl."
She would say to him, "What madness of me to yield to you. But I do notregret it. It is so sweet to love."
All this seemed to George irritating from her mouth. She murmured, "Itis so sweet to love," like the village maiden at a theater.
Then she exasperated him by the clumsiness of her caresses. Havingbecome all at once sensual beneath the kisses of this young fellow whohad so warmed her blood, she showed an unskilled ardor and a seriousapplication that made Du Roy laugh and think of old men trying to learnto read. When she would have gripped him in her embrace, ardently gazingat him with the deep and terrible glance of certain aging women,splendid in their last loves, when she should have bitten him withsilent and quivering mouth, crushing him beneath her warmth and weight,she would wriggle about like a girl, and lisp with the idea of beingpleasant: "Me love 'ou so, ducky, me love 'ou so. Have nice lovey-loveywith 'ittle wifey."
He then would be seized with a wild desire to take his hat and rush out,slamming the door behind him.
They had frequently met at the outset at the Rue de Constantinople; butDu Roy, who dreaded a meeting there with Madame de Marelle, now found athousand pretexts for refusing such appointments. He had then to call onher almost every day at her home, now to lunch, now to dinner. Shesqueezed his hand under the table, held out her mouth to him behind thedoors. But he, for his part, took pleasure above all in playing withSusan, who amused him with her whimsicalities. In her doll-like framewas lodged an active, arch, sly, and startling wit, always ready to showitself off. She joked at everything and everybody with biting readiness.George stimulated her imagination, excited it to irony and theyunderstood one another marvelously. She kept appealing to him everymoment, "I say, Pretty-boy. Come here, Pretty-boy."
He would at once leave the mother and go to the daughter, who wouldwhisper some bit of spitefulness, at which they would laugh heartily.
However, disgusted with the mother's love, he began to feel aninsurmountable repugnance for her; he could no longer see, hear, orthink of her without anger. He ceased, therefore, to visit her, toanswer her letters, or to yield to her appeals. She understood at lengththat he no longer loved her, and suffered terribly. But she grewinsatiable, kept watch on him, followed him, waited for him in a cabwith the blinds drawn down, at the door of the office, at the door ofhis dwelling, in the streets through which she hoped he might pass. Helonged to ill-treat her, swear at her, strike her, say to her plainly,"I have had enough of it, you worry my life out." But he observed somecircumspection on account of the _Vie Francaise_, and strove by dint ofcoolness, harshness, tempered by attention, and even rude words attimes, to make her understand that there must be an end to it. Shestrove, above all, to devise schemes to allure him to a meeting in theRue de Constantinople, and he was in a perpetual state of alarm lest thetwo women should find themselves some day face to face at the door.
His affection for Madame de Marelle had, on the contrary, augmentedduring the summer. He called her his "young rascal," and she certainlycharmed him. Their two natures had kindred links; they were both membersof the adventurous race of vagabonds, those vagabonds in society who sostrongly resemble, without being aware of it, the vagabonds of thehighways. They had had a summer of delightful love-making, a summer ofstudents on the spree, bolting off to lunch or dine at Argenteuil,Bougival, Maisons, or Poissy, and passing hours in a boat gatheringflowers from the bank. She adored the fried fish served on the banks ofthe Seine, the stewed rabbits, the arbors in the tavern gardens, and theshouts of the boating men. He liked to start off with her on a brightday on a suburban line, and traverse the ugly environs of Paris,sprouting with tradesmen's hideous boxes, talking lively nonsense. Andwhen he had to return to dine at Madame Walter's he hated the eager oldmistress from the mere recollection of the young one whom he had left,and who had ravished his desires and harvested his ardor among the grassby the water side.
He had fancied himself at length pretty well rid of Madame Walter, towhom he had expressed, in a plain and almost brutal fashion, hisintentions of breaking off with her, when he received at the office ofthe paper the telegram summoning him to meet her at two o'clock at theRue de Constantinople. He re-read it as he walked along, "Must see youto-day. Most important. Expect me two o'clock, Rue de Constantinople.Can render you a great service. Till death.--Virginie."
He thought, "What does this old screech-owl want with me now? I wagershe has nothing to tell me. She will only repeat that she adores me. YetI must see what it means. She speaks of an important affair and a greatservice; perhaps it is so. And Clotilde, who is coming at four o'clock!I must get the first of the pair off by three at the latest. By Jove,provided they don't run up against one another! What bothers women are."
And he reflected that, after all, his own wife was
the only one whonever bothered him at all. She lived in her own way, and seemed to bevery fond of him during the hours destined to love, for she would notadmit that the unchangeable order of the ordinary occupations of lifeshould be interfered with.
He walked slowly towards the rendezvous, mentally working himself upagainst Madame Walter. "Ah! I will just receive her nicely if she hasnothing to tell me. Cambronne's language will be academical compared tomine. I will tell her that I will never set foot in her house again, tobegin with."
He went in to wait for Madame Walter. She arrived almost immediately,and as soon as she caught sight of him, she exclaimed, "Ah, you have hadmy telegram! How fortunate."
He put on a grumpy expression, saying: "By Jove, yes; I found it at theoffice just as I was going to start off to the Chamber. What is it youwant now?"
She had raised her veil to kiss him, and drew nearer with the timid andsubmissive air of an oft-beaten dog.
"How cruel you are towards me! How harshly you speak to me! What have Idone to you? You cannot imagine how I suffer through you."
He growled: "Don't go on again in that style."
She was standing close to him, only waiting for a smile, a gesture, tothrow herself into his arms, and murmured: "You should not have taken meto treat me thus, you should have left me sober-minded and happy as Iwas. Do you remember what you said to me in the church, and how youforced me into this house? And now, how do you speak to me? how do youreceive me? Oh, God! oh, God! what pain you give me!"
He stamped his foot, and exclaimed, violently: "Ah, bosh! That's enoughof it! I can't see you a moment without hearing all that foolery. Onewould really think that I had carried you off at twelve years of age,and that you were as ignorant as an angel. No, my dear, let us putthings in their proper light; there was no seduction of a young girl inthe business. You gave yourself to me at full years of discretion. Ithank you. I am infinitely grateful to you, but I am not bound to betied till death to your petticoat strings. You have a husband and I awife. We are neither of us free. We indulged in a mutual caprice, and itis over."
"Oh, you are brutal, coarse, shameless," she said; "I was indeed nolonger a young girl, but I had never loved, never faltered."
He cut her short with: "I know it. You have told me so twenty times. Butyou had had two children."
She drew back, exclaiming: "Oh, George, that is unworthy of you," andpressing her two hands to her heart, began to choke and sob.
When he saw the tears come he took his hat from the corner of themantelpiece, saying: "Oh, you are going to cry, are you? Good-bye, then.So it was to show off in this way that you came here, eh?"
She had taken a step forward in order to bar the way, and quicklypulling out a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped her eyes with anabrupt movement. Her voice grew firmer by the effort of her will, as shesaid, in tones tremulous with pain, "No--I came to--to tell you somenews--political news--to put you in the way of gaining fifty thousandfrancs--or even more--if you like."
He inquired, suddenly softening, "How so? What do you mean?"
"I caught, by chance, yesterday evening, some words between my husbandand Laroche-Mathieu. They do not, besides, trouble themselves to hidemuch from me. But Walter recommended the Minister not to let you intothe secret, as you would reveal everything."
Du Roy had put his hat down on a chair, and was waiting veryattentively.
"What is up, then?" said he.
"They are going to take possession of Morocco."
"Nonsense! I lunched with Laroche-Mathieu, who almost dictated to me theintention of the Cabinet."
"No, darling, they are humbugging you, because they were afraid lesttheir plan should be known."
"Sit down," said George, and sat down himself in an armchair. Then shedrew towards him a low stool, and sitting down on it between his knees,went on in a coaxing tone, "As I am always thinking about you, I payattention now to everything that is whispered around me."
And she began quietly to explain to him how she had guessed for sometime past that something was being hatched unknown to him; that theywere making use of him, while dreading his co-operation. She said, "Youknow, when one is in love, one grows cunning."
At length, the day before, she had understood it all. It was a businesstransaction, a thumping affair, worked out on the quiet. She smiled now,happy in her dexterity, and grew excited, speaking like a financier'swife accustomed to see the market rigged, used to rises and falls thatruin, in two hours of speculation, thousands of little folk who haveplaced their savings in undertakings guaranteed by the names of menhonored and respected in the world of politics of finance.
She repeated, "Oh, it is very smart what they have been up to! Verysmart. It was Walter who did it all, though, and he knows all about suchthings. Really, it is a first-class job."
He grew impatient at these preliminaries, and exclaimed, "Come, tell mewhat it is at once."
"Well, then, this is what it is. The Tangiers expedition was decidedupon between them on the day that Laroche-Mathieu took the ministry offoreign affairs, and little by little they have bought up the whole ofthe Morocco loan, which had fallen to sixty-four or sixty-five francs.They have bought it up very cleverly by means of shady brokers, who didnot awaken any mistrust. They have even sold the Rothschilds, who grewastonished to find Morocco stock always asked for, and who wereastonished by having agents pointed out to them--all lame ducks. Thatquieted the big financiers. And now the expedition is to take place, andas soon as we are there the French Government will guarantee the debt.Our friends will gain fifty or sixty millions. You understand thematter? You understand, too, how afraid they have been of everyone, ofthe slightest indiscretion?"
She had leaned her head against the young fellow's waistcoat, and withher arms resting on his legs, pressed up against him, feeling that shewas interesting him now, and ready to do anything for a caress, for asmile.
"You are quite certain?" he asked.
"I should think so," she replied, with confidence.
"It is very smart indeed. As to that swine of a Laroche-Mathieu, justsee if I don't pay him out one of these days. Oh, the scoundrel, justlet him look out for himself! He shall go through my hands." Then hebegan to reflect, and went on, "We ought, though, to profit by allthis."
"You can still buy some of the loan," said she; "it is only atseventy-two francs."
He said, "Yes, but I have no money under my hand."
She raised her eyes towards him, eyes full of entreaty, saying, "I havethought of that, darling, and if you were very nice, very nice, if youloved me a little, you would let me lend you some."
He answered, abruptly and almost harshly, "As to that, no, indeed."
She murmured, in an imploring voice: "Listen, there is something thatyou can do without borrowing money. I wanted to buy ten thousand francs'worth of the loan to make a little nest-egg. Well, I will take twentythousand, and you shall stand in for half. You understand that I am notgoing to hand the money over to Walter. So there is nothing to pay forthe present. If it all succeeds, you gain seventy thousand francs. Ifnot, you will owe me ten thousand, which you can pay when you please."
He remarked, "No, I do not like such pains."
Then she argued, in order to get him to make up his mind. She proved tohim that he was really pledging his word for ten thousand francs, thathe was running risks, and that she was not advancing him anything, sincethe actual outlay was made by Walter's bank. She pointed out to him,besides, that it was he who had carried on in the _Vie Francaise_ thewhole of the political campaign that had rendered the scheme possible.He would be very foolish not to profit by it. He still hesitated, andshe added, "But just reflect that in reality it is Walter who isadvancing you these ten thousand Francs, and that you have rendered himservices worth a great deal more than that."
"Very well, then," said he, "I will go halves with you. If we lose, Iwill repay you the ten thousand francs."
She was so pleased that she rose, took his head in both her hands, a
ndbegan to kiss him eagerly. He did not resist at first, but as she grewbolder, clasping him to her and devouring him with caresses, hereflected that the other would be there shortly, and that if he yieldedhe would lose time and exhaust in the arms of the old woman an ardorthat he had better reserve for the young one. So he repulsed her gently,saying, "Come, be good now."
She looked at him disconsolately, saying, "Oh, George, can't I even kissyou?"
He replied, "No, not to-day. I have a headache, and it upsets me."
She sat down again docilely between his knees, and asked, "Will you comeand dine with us to-morrow? You would give me much pleasure."
He hesitated, but dared not refuse, so said, "Certainly."
"Thanks, darling."
She rubbed her cheek slowly against his breast with a regular andcoaxing movement, and one of her long black hairs caught in hiswaistcoat. She noticed it, and a wild idea crossed her mind, one ofthose superstitious notions which are often the whole of a woman'sreason. She began to twist this hair gently round a button. Then shefastened another hair to the next button, and a third to the next. Oneto every button. He would tear them out of her head presently when herose, and hurt her. What happiness! And he would carry away something ofher without knowing it; he would carry away a tiny lock of her hairwhich he had never yet asked for. It was a tie by which she attached himto her, a secret, invisible bond, a talisman she left with him. Withoutwilling it he would think of her, dream of her, and perhaps love her alittle more the next day.
He said, all at once, "I must leave you, because I am expected at theChamber at the close of the sitting. I cannot miss attending to-day."
She sighed, "Already!" and then added, resignedly, "Go, dear, but youwill come to dinner to-morrow."
And suddenly she drew aside. There was a short and sharp pain in herhead, as though needles had been stuck into the skin. Her heartthrobbed; she was pleased to have suffered a little by him. "Good-bye,"said she.
He took her in his arms with a compassionate smile, and coldly kissedher eyes. But she, maddened by this contact, again murmured, "Already!"while her suppliant glance indicated the bedroom, the door of which wasopen.
He stepped away from her, and said in a hurried tone, "I must be off; Ishall be late."
Then she held out her lips, which he barely brushed with his, and havinghanded her her parasol, which she was forgetting, he continued, "Come,come, we must be quick, it is past three o'clock."
She went out before him, saying, "To-morrow, at seven," and he repeated,"To-morrow, at seven."
They separated, she turning to the right and he to the left. Du Roywalked as far as the outer boulevard. Then he slowly strolled back alongthe Boulevard Malesherbes. Passing a pastry cook's, he noticed some_marrons glaces_ in a glass jar, and thought, "I will take in a poundfor Clotilde."
He bought a bag of these sweetmeats, which she was passionately fond of,and at four o'clock returned to wait for his young mistress. She was alittle late, because her husband had come home for a week, and said,"Can you come and dine with us to-morrow? He will be so pleased to seeyou."
"No, I dine with the governor. We have a heap of political and financialmatters to talk over."
She had taken off her bonnet, and was now laying aside her bodice, whichwas too tight for her. He pointed out the bag on the mantel-shelf,saying, "I have bought you some _marrons glaces_."
She clapped her hands, exclaiming: "How nice; what a dear you are."
She took one, tasted them, and said: "They are delicious. I feel sure Ishall not leave one of them." Then she added, looking at George withsensual merriment: "You flatter all my vices, then."
She slowly ate the sweetmeats, looking continually into the bag to seeif there were any left. "There, sit down in the armchair," said she,"and I will squat down between your knees and nibble my bon-bons. Ishall be very comfortable."
He smiled, sat down, and took her between his knees, as he had hadMadame Walter shortly before. She raised her head in order to speak tohim, and said, with her mouth full: "Do you know, darling, I dreamt ofyou? I dreamt that we were both taking a long journey together on acamel. He had two humps, and we were each sitting astride on a hump,crossing the desert. We had taken some sandwiches in a piece of paperand some wine in a bottle, and were dining on our humps. But it annoyedme because we could not do anything else; we were too far off from oneanother, and I wanted to get down."
He answered: "I want to get down, too."
He laughed, amused at the story, and encouraged her to talk nonsense, tochatter, to indulge in all the child's play of conversation which loversutter. The nonsense which he thought delightful in the mouth of Madamede Marelle would have exasperated him in that of Madame Walter.Clotilde, too, called him "My darling," "My pet," "My own." These wordsseemed sweet and caressing. Said by the other woman shortly before, theyhad irritated and sickened him. For words of love, which are always thesame, take the flavor of the lips they come from.
But he was thinking, even while amusing himself with this nonsense, ofthe seventy thousand francs he was going to gain, and suddenly checkedthe gabble of his companion by two little taps with his finger on herhead. "Listen, pet," said he.
"I am going to entrust you with a commission for your husband. Tell himfrom me to buy to-morrow ten thousand francs' worth of the Morocco loan,which is quoted at seventy-two, and I promise him that he will gain fromsixty to eighty thousand francs before three months are over. Recommendthe most positive silence to him. Tell him from me that the expeditionto Tangiers is decided on, and that the French government will guaranteethe debt of Morocco. But do not let anything out about it. It is a Statesecret that I am entrusting to you."
She listened to him seriously, and murmured: "Thank you, I will tell myhusband this evening. You can reckon on him; he will not talk. He is avery safe man, and there is no danger."
But she had eaten all the sweetmeats. She crushed up the bag between herhands and flung it into the fireplace. Then she said, "Let us go tobed," and without getting up, began to unbutton George's waistcoat. Allat once she stopped, and pulling out between two fingers a long hair,caught in a buttonhole, began to laugh. "There, you have brought awayone of Madeleine's hairs. There is a faithful husband for you."
Then, becoming once more serious, she carefully examined on her head thealmost imperceptible thread she had found, and murmured: "It is notMadeleine's, it is too dark."
He smiled, saying: "It is very likely one of the maid's."
But she was inspecting the waistcoat with the attention of a detective,and collected a second hair rolled round a button; then she perceived athird, and pale and somewhat trembling, exclaimed: "Oh, you have beensleeping with a woman who has wrapped her hair round all your buttons."
He was astonished, and gasped out: "No, you are mad."
All at once he remembered, understood it all, was uneasy at first, andthen denied the charge with a chuckle, not vexed at the bottom that sheshould suspect him of other loves. She kept on searching, and stillfound hairs, which she rapidly untwisted and threw on the carpet. Shehad guessed matters with her artful woman's instinct, and stammered out,vexed, angry, and ready to cry: "She loves you, she does--and she wantedyou to take away something belonging to her. Oh, what a traitor youare!" But all at once she gave a cry, a shrill cry of nervous joy. "Oh!oh! it is an old woman--here is a white hair. Ah, you go in for oldwomen now! Do they pay you, eh--do they pay you? Ah, so you have come toold women, have you? Then you have no longer any need of me. Keep theother one."
She rose, ran to her bodice thrown onto a chair, and began hurriedly toput it on again. He sought to retain her, stammering confusedly: "But,no, Clo, you are silly. I do not know anything about it. Listennow--stay here. Come, now--stay here."
She repeated: "Keep your old woman--keep her. Have a ring made out ofher hair--out of her white hair. You have enough of it for that."
With abrupt and swift movements she had dressed herself and put on herbonnet and veil, and when he soug
ht to take hold of her, gave him asmack with all her strength. While he remained bewildered, she openedthe door and fled.
As soon as he was alone he was seized with furious anger against thatold hag of a Mother Walter. Ah, he would send her about her business,and pretty roughly, too! He bathed his reddened cheek and then went out,in turn meditating vengeance. This time he would not forgive her. Ah,no! He walked down as far as the boulevard, and sauntering along stoppedin front of a jeweler's shop to look at a chronometer he had fancied fora long time back, and which was ticketed eighteen hundred francs. Hethought all at once, with a thrill of joy at his heart, "If I gain myseventy thousand francs I can afford it."
And he began to think of all the things he would do with these seventythousand francs. In the first place, he would get elected deputy. Thenhe would buy his chronometer, and would speculate on the Bourse, andwould--
He did not want to go to the office, preferring to consult Madeleinebefore seeing Walter and writing his article, and started for home. Hehad reached the Rue Druot, when he stopped short. He had forgotten toask after the Count de Vaudrec, who lived in the Chaussee d'Antin. Hetherefore turned back, still sauntering, thinking of a thousand things,mainly pleasant, of his coming fortune, and also of that scoundrel of aLaroche-Mathieu, and that old stickfast of a Madame Walter. He was notuneasy about the wrath of Clotilde, knowing very well that she forgavequickly.
He asked the doorkeeper of the house in which the Count de Vaudrecresided: "How is Monsieur de Vaudrec? I hear that he has been unwellthese last few days."
The man replied: "The Count is very bad indeed, sir. They are afraid hewill not live through the night; the gout has mounted to his heart."
Du Roy was so startled that he no longer knew what he ought to do.Vaudrec dying! Confused and disquieting ideas shot through his mind thathe dared not even admit to himself. He stammered: "Thank you; I willcall again," without knowing what he was saying.
Then he jumped into a cab and was driven home. His wife had come in. Hewent into her room breathless, and said at once: "Have you heard?Vaudrec is dying."
She was sitting down reading a letter. She raised her eyes, andrepeating thrice: "Oh! what do you say, what do you say, what do yousay?"
"I say that Vaudrec is dying from a fit of gout that has flown to theheart." Then he added: "What do you think of doing?"
She had risen livid, and with her cheeks shaken by a nervous quivering,then she began to cry terribly, hiding her face in her hands. She stoodshaken by sobs and torn by grief. But suddenly she mastered her sorrow,and wiping her eyes, said: "I--I am going there--don't bother aboutme--I don't know when I shall be back--don't wait for me."
He replied: "Very well, dear." They shook hands, and she went off sohurriedly that she forgot her gloves.
George, having dined alone, began to write his article. He did soexactly in accordance with the minister's instructions, giving hisreaders to understand that the expedition to Morocco would not takeplace. Then he took it to the office, chatted for a few minutes with thegovernor, and went out smoking, light-hearted, though he knew not why.His wife had not come home, and he went to bed and fell asleep.
Madeleine came in towards midnight. George, suddenly roused, sat up inbed. "Well?" he asked.
He had never seen her so pale and so deeply moved. She murmured: "He isdead."
"Ah!--and he did not say anything?"
"Nothing. He had lost consciousness when I arrived."
George was thinking. Questions rose to his lips that he did not dare toput. "Come to bed," said he.
She undressed rapidly, and slipped into bed beside him, when he resumed:"Were there any relations present at his death-bed?"
"Only a nephew."
"Ah! Did he see this nephew often?"
"Never. They had not met for ten years."
"Had he any other relatives?"
"No, I do not think so."
"Then it is his nephew who will inherit?"
"I do not know."
"He was very well off, Vaudrec?"
"Yes, very well off."
"Do you know what his fortune was?"
"No, not exactly. One or two millions, perhaps."
He said no more. She blew out the light, and they remained stretchedout, side by side, in the darkness--silent, wakeful, and reflecting. Heno longer felt inclined for sleep. He now thought the seventy thousandfrancs promised by Madame Walter insignificant. Suddenly he fancied thatMadeleine was crying. He inquired, in order to make certain: "Are youasleep?"
"No."
Her voice was tearful and quavering, and he said: "I forgot to tell youwhen I came in that your minister has let us in nicely."
"How so?"
He told her at length, with all details, the plan hatched betweenLaroche-Mathieu and Walter. When he had finished, she asked: "How do youknow this?"
He replied: "You will excuse me not telling you. You have your means ofinformation, which I do not seek to penetrate. I have mine, which I wishto keep to myself. I can, in any case, answer for the correctness of myinformation."
Then she murmured: "Yes, it is quite possible. I fancied they were up tosomething without us."
But George, who no longer felt sleepy, had drawn closer to his wife, andgently kissed her ear. She repulsed him sharply. "I beg of you to leaveme alone. I am not in a mood to romp." He turned resignedly towards thewall, and having closed his eyes, ended by falling asleep.
Bel Ami (A Ladies' Man) Page 13
