CHAPTER XII
"No, never in my whole life have I met a woman who can compare with thisMarie-Anne! What grace and what dignity! Ah! her beauty is divine!"
So Martial was thinking while returning to Sairmeuse after his proposalsto M. Lacheneur.
At the risk of losing his way he took the shortest course, which ledacross the fields and over ditches, which he leaped with the aid of hisgun.
He found a pleasure, entirely novel and very delightful, in picturingMarie-Anne as he had just seen her, blushing and paling, about to swoon,then lifting her head haughtily in her pride and disdain.
Who would have suspected that such indomitable energy and such animpassioned soul was hidden beneath such girlish artlessness andapparent coldness? What an adorable expression illumined her face, whatpassion shone in those great black eyes when she looked at that littlefool d'Escorval! What would not one give to be regarded thus, even for amoment? How could the boy help being crazy about her?
He himself loved her, without being, as yet, willing, to confess it.What other name could be given to this passion which had overpoweredreason, and to the furious desires which agitated him?
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "she shall be mine. Yes, she shall be mine; I willhave her!"
Consequently he began to study the strategic side of the undertakingwhich this resolution involved with the sagacity of one who had not beenwithout an extended experience in such matters.
His debut, he was forced to admit, had been neither fortunate noradroit. Conveyed compliments and money had both been rejected. IfMarie-Anne had heard his covert insinuations with evident horror, M.Lacheneur had received, with even more than coldness, his advances andhis offers of actual wealth.
Moreover, he remembered Chanlouineau's terrible eyes.
"How he measured me, that magnificent rustic!" he growled. "At a signfrom Marie-Anne he would have crushed me like an eggshell, without athought of my ancestors. Ah! does he also love her? There will be threerivals in that case."
But the more difficult and even perilous the undertaking seemed, themore his passions were inflamed.
"My failures can be repaired," he thought. "Occasions of meeting shallnot be wanting. Will it not be necessary to hold frequent interviewswith Monsieur Lacheneur in effecting a formal transfer of Sairmeuse?I will win him over to my side. With the daughter my course is plain.Profiting by my unfortunate experience, I will, in the future, be astimid as I have been bold; and she will be hard to please if she isnot flattered by this triumph of her beauty. D'Escorval remains to bedisposed of----"
But this was the point upon which Martial was most exercised.
He had, it is true, seen this rival rudely dismissed by M. Lacheneur;and yet the anger of the latter had seemed to him too great to beabsolutely real.
He suspected a comedy, but for whose benefit? For his, or forChanlouineau's? And yet, what could possibly be the motive?
"And yet," he reflected, "my hands are tied; and I cannot call thislittle d'Escorval to account for his insolence. To swallow such anaffront in silence is hard. Still, he is brave, there is no denyingthat; perhaps I can find some other way to provoke his anger. But eventhen, what could I do? If I harmed a hair of his head, Marie-Anne wouldnever forgive me. Ah! I would give a handsome sum in exchange for somelittle device to send him out of the country."
Revolving in his mind these plans, whose frightful consequences he couldneither calculate nor foresee, Martial was walking up the avenue leadingto the chateau, when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.
He turned, and seeing two men running after him and motioning him tostop, he paused.
It was Chupin, accompanied by one of his sons.
This old rascal had been enrolled among the servants charged withpreparing Sairmeuse for the reception of the duke; and he had alreadydiscovered the secret of making himself useful to his master, which wasby seeming to be indispensable.
"Ah, Monsieur," he cried, "we have been searching for you everywhere, myson and I. It was Monsieur le Duc----"
"Very well," said Martial, dryly. "I am returning----"
But Chupin was not sensitive; and although he had not been veryfavorably received, he ventured to follow the marquis at a littledistance, but sufficiently near to make himself heard. He also hadhis schemes; for it was not long before he began a long recital of thecalumnies which had been spread about the neighborhood in regard to theLacheneur affair. Why did he choose this subject in preference to anyother? Did he suspect the young marquis's passion for Marie-Anne?
According to this report, Lacheneur--he no longer said "monsieur"--wasunquestionably a rascal; the complete surrender of Sairmeuse was onlya farce, as he must possess thousands, and hundreds of thousands offrancs, since he was about to marry his daughter.
If the scoundrel had felt only suspicions, they were changed intocertainty by the eagerness with which Martial demanded:
"How! is Mademoiselle Lacheneur to be married?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"And to whom?"
"To Chanlouineau, the fellow whom the peasants wished to kill yesterdayupon the square, because he was disrespectful to the duke. He is anavaricious man; and if Marie-Anne does not bring him a good round sum asa dowry, he will never marry her, no matter how beautiful she may be."
"Are you sure of what you say?"
"It is true. My eldest son heard from Chanlouineau and from Lacheneurthat the wedding would take place within a month."
And turning to his son:
"Is it not true, boy?"
"Yes," promptly replied the youth, who had heard nothing of the kind.
Martial was silent, ashamed, perhaps, of allowing himself to listento the gossip, but glad to have been informed of such an importantcircumstance.
If Chupin was not telling a falsehood--and what reason could he have fordoing so--it became evident that M. Lacheneur's conduct concealed somegreat mystery. Why, without some potent motive, should he have refusedto give his daughter to Maurice d'Escorval whom she loved, to bestow herupon a peasant?
As he reached Sairmeuse, he was swearing that he would discover thismotive. A strange scene awaited him. In the broad open space extendingfrom the front of the chateau to the _parterre_ lay a huge pile of allkinds of clothing, linen, plate, and furniture. One might have supposedthat the occupants of the chateau were moving. A half dozen men wererunning to and fro, and standing in the centre of the rubbish was theDuc de Sairmeuse, giving orders.
Martial did not understand the whole meaning of the scene at first. Hewent to his father, and after saluting him respectfully, inquired:
"What is all this?"
M. de Sairmeuse laughed heartily.
"What! can you not guess?" he replied. "It is very simple, however. Whenthe lawful master, on his return, sleeps beneath the bed-coverings ofthe usurper, it is delightful, the first night, not so pleasant on thesecond. Everything here reminds me too forcibly of Monsieur Lacheneur.It seems to me that I am in his house; and the thought is unendurable.So I have had them collect everything belonging to him and to hisdaughter--everything, in fact, which did not belong to the chateau informer years. The servants will put it all into a cart and carry it tohim."
The young marquis gave fervent thanks to Heaven that he had arrivedbefore it was too late. Had his father's project been executed, he wouldhave been obliged to bid farewell to all his hopes.
"You surely will not do this, Monsieur le Duc?" said he, earnestly.
"And why, pray? Who will prevent me from doing it?"
"No one, most assuredly. But you will decide, on reflection, that aman who has not conducted himself _too_ badly has a right to someconsideration."
The duke seemed greatly astonished.
"Consideration!" he exclaimed. "This rascal has a right to someconsideration! Well, this is one of the poorest of jokes. What! I givehim--that is to say--you give him a hundred thousand francs, and thatwill not content him! He is entitled to consideration! You, who areafter the daughter, may give i
t to him if you like, but I shall do as Ilike!"
"Very well; but, Monsieur, I would think twice, if I were in your place.Lacheneur has surrendered Sairmeuse. That is all very well; but how canyou authenticate your claim to the property? What would you do if, incase you imprudently irritated him, he should change his mind? Whatwould become of your right to the estate?"
M. Sairmeuse actually turned green.
"Zounds!" he exclaimed. "I had not thought of that. Here, you fellows,take all these things back again, and that quickly!"
And as they were obeying his order:
"Now," he remarked, "let us hasten to Courtornieu. They have alreadysent for us twice. It must be business of the utmost importance whichdemands our attention."
The Honor of the Name Page 12
