CHAPTER IV. MADAME AND MADEMOISELLE
To be frank, however, it was not the old wound that touched me sonearly, but Madame's words; which, finishing what Clon's suddenappearance in the garden had begun, went a long way towards hardeningme and throwing me back into myself. I saw with bitterness--what I hadperhaps forgotten for a moment--how great was the chasm that separatedme from these women; how impossible it was that we could long thinkalike; how far apart in views, in experience, in aims we were. And whileI made a mock in my heart of their high-flown sentiments--or thought Idid--I laughed no less at the folly which had led me to dream, even fora moment, that I could, at my age, go back--go back and risk all for awhim, a scruple, the fancy of a lonely hour.
I daresay something of this showed in my face; for Madame's eyesmirrored a dim reflection of trouble as she looked at me, andMademoiselle talked nervously and at random. At any rate, I fancied so,and I hastened to compose myself; and the two, in pressing upon me thesimple dainties of the table soon forgot, or appeared to forget, theincident.
Yet in spite of this CONTRETEMPS, that first meal had a strange charmfor me. The round table whereat we dined was spread inside the open doorwhich led to the garden, so that the October sunshine fell full on thespotless linen and quaint old plate, and the fresh balmy air filled theroom with the scent of sweet herbs. Louis served us with the mien of amajor-domo, and set on each dish as though it had been a peacock or amess of ortolans. The woods provided the larger portion of our meal; thegarden did its part; the confections Mademoiselle had cooked with herown hand.
By-and-by, as the meal went on, as Louis trod to and fro across thepolished floor, and the last insects of summer hummed sleepilyoutside, and the two gracious faces continued to smile at me out of thegloom--for the ladies sat with their backs to the door--I began todream again, I began to sink again into folly, that was half-pleasure,half-pain. The fury of the gaming-house and the riot of Zaton's seemedfar away. The triumphs of the fencing-room--even they grew cheap andtawdry. I thought of existence as one outside it, I balanced thisagainst that, and wondered whether, after all, the red soutane were somuch better than the homely jerkin, or the fame of a day than ease andsafety.
And life at Cocheforet was all after the pattern of this dinner. Eachday, I might almost say each meal, gave rise to the same sequenceof thoughts. In Clon's presence, or when some word of Madame's,unconsciously harsh, reminded me of the distance between us, I wasmyself. At other times, in face of this peaceful and intimate life,which was only rendered possible by the remoteness of the place andthe peculiar circumstances in which the ladies stood, I felt a strangeweakness, The loneliness of the woods that encircled the house, andonly here and there afforded a distant glimpse of snow-clad peaks; theabsence of any link to bind me to the old life, so that at intervals itseemed unreal; the remoteness of the great world, all tended to sap mywill and weaken the purpose which had brought me to this place.
On the fourth day after my coming, however, something happened to breakthe spell. It chanced that I came late to dinner, and entered the roomhastily and without ceremony, expecting to find Madame and her sisteralready seated. Instead, I found them talking in a low tone by the opendoor, with every mark of disorder in their appearance; while Clon andLouis stood at a little distance with downcast faces and perplexedlooks.
I had time to see all this, and then my entrance wrought a suddenchange. Clon and Louis sprang to attention; Madame and her sister cameto the table and sat down, and all made a shallow pretence of being attheir ease. But Mademoiselle's face was pale, her hand trembled; andthough Madame's greater self-command enabled her to carry off the matterbetter, I saw that she was not herself. Once or twice she spoke harshlyto Louis; she fell at other times into a brown study; and when shethought that I was not watching her, her face wore a look of deepanxiety.
I wondered what all this meant; and I wondered more when, after themeal, the two walked in the garden for an hour with Clon. Mademoisellecame from this interview alone, and I was sure that she had beenweeping. Madame and the dark porter stayed outside some time longer;then she, too, came in, and disappeared.
Clon did not return with her, and when I went into the garden fiveminutes later, Louis also had vanished. Save for two women who satsewing at an upper window, the house seemed to be deserted. Not a soundbroke the afternoon stillness of room or garden, and yet I felt thatmore was happening in this silence than appeared on the surface. I beginto grow curious--suspicious, and presently slipped out myself by way ofthe stables, and skirting the wood at the back of the house, gainedwith a little trouble the bridge which crossed the stream and led to thevillage.
Turning round at this point I could see the house, and I moved a littleaside into the underwood, and stood gazing at the windows, trying tounriddle the matter. It was not likely that M. de Cocheforet wouldrepeat his visit so soon; and, besides, the women's emotions had beenthose of pure dismay and grief, unmixed with any of the satisfactionto which such a meeting, though snatched by stealth, must give rise.I discarded my first thought therefore--that he had returnedunexpectedly--and I sought for another solution.
But no other was on the instant forthcoming. The windows remainedobstinately blind, no figures appeared on the terrace, the garden laydeserted, and without life. My departure had not, as I half expected itwould, drawn the secret into light.
I watched awhile, at times cursing my own meanness; but the excitementof the moment and the quest tided me over that. Then I determined to godown into the village and see whether anything was moving there. I hadbeen down to the inn once, and had been received half sulkily, halfcourteously, as a person privileged at the great house, and thereforeto be accepted. It would not be thought odd if I went again, and after amoment's thought, I started down the track.
This, where it ran through the wood, was so densely shaded that thesun penetrated to it little, and in patches only. A squirrel stirredat times, sliding round a trunk, or scampering across the dry leaves.Occasionally a pig grunted and moved farther into the wood. But theplace was very quiet, and I do not know how it was that I surprised Cloninstead of being surprised by him.
He was walking along the path before me with his eyes on theground--walking so slowly, and with his lean frame so bent that I mighthave supposed him ill if I had not remarked the steady movement of hishead from right to left, and the alert touch with which he now and againdisplaced a clod of earth or a cluster of leaves. By-and-by he rosestiffly, and looked round him suspiciously; but by that time I hadslipped behind a trunk, and was not to be seen; and after a briefinterval he went back to his task, stooping over it more closely, ifpossible, than before, and applying himself with even greater care.
By that time I had made up my mind that he was tracking someone. Butwhom? I could not make a guess at that. I only knew that the plot wasthickening, and began to feel the eagerness of the chase. Of course, ifthe matter had not to do with Cocheforet, it was no affair of mine; butthough it seemed unlikely that anything could bring him back so soon,he might still be at the bottom of this. And, besides, I felt a naturalcuriosity. When Clon at last improved his pace, and went on to thevillage, I took up his task. I called to mind all the wood-lore I hadever learned, and scanned trodden mould and crushed leaves with eagereyes. But in vain. I could make nothing of it all, and rose at last withan aching back and no advantage.
I did not go on to the village after that, but returned to the house,where I found Madame pacing the garden. She looked up eagerly on hearingmy step; and I was mistaken if she was not disappointed--if she had notbeen expecting someone else. She hid the feeling bravely, however, andmet me with a careless word; but she turned to the house more than oncewhile we talked, and she seemed to be all the while on the watch, anduneasy. I was not surprised when Clon's figure presently appeared inthe doorway, and she left me abruptly, and went to him. I only felt morecertain than before that there was something strange on foot. What itwas, and whether it had to do with M. de Cocheforet, I could not tell.But ther
e it was, and I grew more curious the longer I remained alone.
She came back to me presently, looking thoughtful and a trifle downcast.
'That was Clon, was it not?' I said, studying her face.
'Yes,' she answered. She spoke absently, and did not look at me.
'How does he talk to you?' I asked, speaking a trifle curtly.
As I intended, my tone roused her. 'By signs,' she said.
'Is he--is he not a little mad?' I ventured. I wanted to make her talkand forget herself.
She looked at me with sudden keenness, then dropped her eyes.
'You do not like him?' she said, a note of challenge in her voice. 'Ihave noticed that, Monsieur.'
'I think he does not like me,' I replied.
'He is less trustful than we are,' she answered naively. 'It is naturalthat he should be. He has seen more of the world.'
That silenced me for a moment, but she did not seem to notice it.
'I was looking for him a little while ago, and I could not find him,' Isaid, after a pause.
'He has been into the village,' she answered.
I longed to pursue the matter further; but though she seemed toentertain no suspicion of me, I dared not run the risk. I tried her,instead, on another tack.
'Mademoiselle de Cocheforet does not seem very well to-day?' I said.
'No?' she answered carelessly. 'Well, now you speak of it, I do notthink that she is. She is often anxious about--one we love.'
She uttered the last words with a little hesitation, and looked at mequickly when she had spoken them. We were sitting at the moment on astone seat which had the wall of the house for a back; and, fortunately,I was toying with the branch of a creeping plant that hung over it, sothat she could not see more than the side of my face. For I knew that italtered. Over my voice, however, I had more control, and I hastened toanswer, 'Yes, I suppose so,' as innocently as possible.
'He is at Bosost, in Spain. You knew that, I conclude?' she said, with acertain sharpness. And she looked me in the face again very directly.
'Yes,' I answered, beginning to tremble.
'I suppose you have heard, too, that he--that he sometimes crossesthe border?' she continued in a low voice, but with a certain ring ofinsistence in her tone. 'Or, if you have not heard it, you guess it?'
I was in a quandary, and grew, in one second, hot all over. Uncertainwhat amount of knowledge I ought to admit, I took refuge in gallantry.
'I should be surprised if he did not,' I answered, with a bow, 'being,as he is, so close, and having such an inducement to return, Madame.'
She drew a long, shivering sigh, at the thought of his peril, I fancied,and she sat back against the wall. Nor did she say any more, though Iheard her sigh again. In a moment she rose.
'The afternoons are growing chilly,' she said; 'I will go in and see howMademoiselle is. Sometimes she does not come to supper. If shecannot descend this evening, I am afraid that you must excuse me too,Monsieur.'
I said what was right, and watched her go in; and, as I did so, Iloathed my errand, and the mean contemptible curiosity which it hadplanted in my mind, more than at any former time. These women--I couldfind it in my heart to hate them for their frankness, for their foolishconfidence, and the silly trustfulness that made them so easy a prey!
NOM DE DIEU! What did the woman mean by telling me all this? To meetme in such a way, to disarm one by such methods, was to take an unfairadvantage. It put a vile--ay, the vilest--aspect, on the work I had todo.
Yet it was very odd! What could M. de Cocheforet mean by returning sosoon, if M. de Cocheforet was here? And, on the other hand, if it wasnot his unexpected presence that had so upset the house, what was thesecret? Whom had Clon been tracking? And what was the cause of Madame'sanxiety? In a few minutes I began to grow curious again; and, as theladies did not appear at supper, I had leisure to give my brain fulllicence, and, in the course of an hour, thought of a hundred keys to themystery. But none exactly fitted the lock, or laid open the secret.
A false alarm that evening helped to puzzle me still more. I was sittingabout an hour after supper, on the same seat in the garden--I had mycloak and was smoking--when Madame came out like a ghost, and, withoutseeing me, flitted away through the darkness toward the stables. For amoment I hesitated, and then I followed her. She went down the path andround the stables, and, so far, I saw nothing strange in her actions;but when she had in this way gained the rear of the west wing, she tooka track through the thicket to the east of the house again, and socame back to the garden. This gained, she came up the path and went inthrough the parlour door, and disappeared--alter making a clear circuitof the house, and not once pausing or looking to right or left! Iconfess I was fairly baffled. I sank back on the seat I had left, andsaid to myself that this was the lamest of all conclusions. I was surethat she had exchanged no word with anyone. I was equally sure that shehad not detected my presence behind her. Why, then, had she made thisstrange promenade, alone, unprotected, an hour after nightfall? No doghad bayed, no one had moved, she had not once paused, or listened, likea person expecting a rencontre. I could not make it out. And I came nonearer to solving it, though I lay awake an hour beyond my usual time.
In the morning, neither of the ladies descended to dinner, and I heardthat Mademoiselle was not so well. After a lonely meal, therefore Imissed them more than I should have supposed--I retired to my favouriteseat and fell to meditating.
The day was fine, and the garden pleasant. Sitting there with my eyes onthe old fashioned herb-beds, with the old-fashioned scents in the air,and the dark belt of trees bounding the view on either side, I couldbelieve that I had been out of Paris not three weeks, but three months.The quiet lapped me round. I could fancy that I had never loved anythingelse. The wood-doves cooed in the stillness; occasionally the harsh cryof a jay jarred the silence. It was an hour after noon, and hot. I thinkI nodded.
On a sudden, as if in a dream, I saw Clon's face peering at me round theangle of the parlour door. He looked, and in a moment withdrew, and Iheard whispering. The door was gently closed. Then all was still again.
But I was wide awake now, and thinking. Clearly the people of the housewished to assure themselves that I was asleep and safely out of the way.As clearly, it was to my interest to be in the way. Giving place tothe temptation, I rose quietly, and, stooping below the level of thewindows, slipped round the east end of the house, passing between itand the great yew hedge. Here I found all still and no one stirring; so,keeping a wary eye about me, I went on round the house--reversing theroute which Madame had taken the night before--until I gained the rearof the stables. Here I had scarcely paused a second to scan the groundbefore two persons came out of the stable-court. They were Madame andthe porter.
They stood a brief while outside and looked up and down. Then Madamesaid something to the man, and he nodded. Leaving him standing where hewas, she crossed the grass with a quick, light step, and vanished amongthe trees.
In a moment my mind was made up to follow; and, as Clon turned at onceand went in, I was able to do so before it was too late. Bending lowamong the shrubs, I ran hotfoot to the point where Madame had enteredthe wood. Here I found a narrow path, and ran nimbly along it, andpresently saw her grey robe fluttering among the trees before me.It only remained to keep out of her sight and give her no chance ofdiscovering that she was followed; and this I set myself to do. Onceor twice she glanced round, but the wood was of beech, the lightwhich passed between the leaves was mere twilight, and my clothes weredark-coloured. I had every advantage, therefore, and little to fearas long as I could keep her in view and still remain myself at such adistance that the rustle of my tread would not disturb her.
Assured that she was on her way to meet her husband, whom my presencekept from the house, I felt that the crisis had come at last, and I grewmore excited with each step I took. I detested the task of watching her;it filled me with peevish disgust. But in proportion as I hated it Iwas eager to have it done and be done wi
th it, and succeed, and stuff myears and begone from the scene. When she presently came to the verge ofthe beech wood, and, entering a little open clearing, seemed to loiter,I went cautiously. This, I thought, must be the rendezvous; and I heldback warily, looking to see him step out of the thicket.
But he did not, and by-and-by she quickened her pace. She crossed theopen and entered a wide ride cut through a low, dense wood of alder anddwarf oak--a wood so closely planted and so intertwined with hazel andelder and box that the branches rose like a solid wall, twelve feethigh, on either side of the track.
Down this she passed, and I stood and watched her go, for I dared notfollow. The ride stretched away as straight as a line for four or fivehundred yards, a green path between green walls. To enter it was to beimmediately detected, if she turned, while the thicket itself permittedno passage. I stood baffled and raging, and watched her pass along. Itseemed an age before she at last reached the end, and, turning sharplyto the right, was in an instant gone from sight.
I waited then no longer. I started off, and, running as lightly andquietly as I could, I sped down the green alley. The sun shone intoit, the trees kept off the wind, and between heat and haste I sweatedfinely. But the turf was soft, and the ground fell slightly, and inlittle more than a minute I gained the end. Fifty yards short of theturning I stopped, and, stealing on, looked cautiously the way she hadgone.
I saw before me a second ride, the twin of the other, and a hundredand fifty paces down it her grey figure tripping on between the greenhedges. I stood and took breath, and cursed the wood and the heatand Madame's wariness. We must have come a league, or two-thirds of aleague, at least. How far did the man expect her to plod to meet him?I began to grow angry. There is moderation even in the cooking of eggs,and this wood might stretch into Spain, for all I knew!
Presently she turned the corner and was gone again, and I had to repeatmy manoeuvre. This time, surely, I should find a change. But no! Anothergreen ride stretched away into the depths of the forest, with hedges ofvarying shades--here light and there dark, as hazel and elder, or thorn,and yew and box prevailed--but always high and stiff and impervious.Halfway down the ride Madame's figure tripped steadily on, the onlymoving thing in sight. I wondered, stood, and, when she vanished,followed-only to find that she had entered another track, a littlenarrower but in every other respect alike.
And so it went on for quite half an hour. Sometimes Madame turned tothe right, sometimes to the left. The maze seemed to be endless. Once ortwice I wondered whether she had lost her way, and was merely seeking toreturn. But her steady, purposeful gait, her measured pace, forbade theidea. I noticed, too, that she seldom looked behind her--rarely toright or left. Once the ride down which she passed was carpeted not withgreen, but with the silvery, sheeny leaves of some creeping plant thatin the distance had a shimmer like that of water at evening. As she trodthis, with her face to the low sun, her tall grey figure had a pure airthat for the moment startled me--she looked unearthly. Then I sworein scorn of myself, and at the next corner I had my reward. She was nolonger walking on. She had stopped, I found, and seated herself on afallen tree that lay in the ride.
For some time I stood in ambush watching her, and with each minute Igrew more impatient. At last I began to doubt--to have strange thoughts.The green walls were growing dark. The sun was sinking; a sharp, whitepeak, miles and miles away, which closed the vista of the ride, beganto flush and colour rosily. Finally, but not before I had had leisure togrow uneasy, she stood up and walked on more slowly. I waited, as usual,until the next turning hid her. Then I hastened after her, and, warilypassing round the corner came face to face with her!
I knew all in a moment saw all in a flash: that she had fooled me,tricked me, lured me away. Her face was white with scorn, her eyesblazed; her figure, as she confronted me, trembled with anger andinfinite contempt.
'You spy!' she cried. 'You hound! You--gentleman! Oh, MON DIEU! if youare one of us--if you are really not of the CANAILLE--we shall pay forthis some day! We shall pay a heavy reckoning in the time to come! I didnot think,' she continued, and her every syllable was like the lash of awhip, 'that there was anything so vile as you in this world!'
I stammered something--I do not know what. Her words burned intome--into my heart! Had she been a man, I would have struck her dead!
'You thought that you deceived me yesterday,' she continued, loweringher tone, but with no lessening of the passion, the contempt, theindignation, which curled her lip and gave fullness to her voice. 'Youplotter! You surface trickster! You thought it an easy task to deludea woman--you find yourself deluded. God give you shame that you maysuffer!' she continued mercilessly. 'You talked of Clon, but Clon besideyou is the most spotless, the most honourable of men!'
'Madame,' I said hoarsely--and I know that my face was grey asashes--'let us understand one another.'
'God forbid!' she cried on the instant. 'I would not soil myself!'
'Fie! Madame,' I said, trembling. But then, you are a woman. That shouldcost a man his life!'
She laughed bitterly.
'You say well,' she retorted. 'I am not a man--and if you are one, thankGod for it. Neither am I Madame. Madame de Cocheforet has spent thisafternoon--thanks to your absence and your imbecility--with her husband.Yes, I hope that hurts you!' she went on, savagely snapping her littlewhite teeth together. 'I hope that stings you; to spy and do vile work,and do it ill, Monsieur Mouchard--Monsieur de Mouchard, I should say--Icongratulate you!'
'You are not Madame de Cocheforet?' I cried, stunned, even in the midstof my shame and rage, by this blow.
'No, Monsieur!' she answered grimly. 'I am not! I am not. And permit meto point out--for we do not all lie easily--that I never said I was. Youdeceived yourself so skilfully that we had no need to trick you.'
'Mademoiselle, then?' I muttered.
'Is Madame!' she cried. 'Yes, and I am Mademoiselle de Cocheforet. Andin that character, and in all others, I beg from this moment to closeour acquaintance, sir. When we meet again--if we ever do meet, which Godforbid!' she went on, her eyes sparkling--'do not presume to speak tome, or I will have you flogged by the grooms. And do not stain our roofby sleeping under it again. You may lie to-night in the inn. It shallnot be said that Cocheforet,' she continued proudly, 'returned eventreachery with inhospitality; and I will give orders to that end. Butto-morrow begone back to your master, like the whipped cur you are! Spyand coward!'
With those last words she moved away. I would have said something, Icould almost have found it in my heart to stop her and make her hear.Nay, I had dreadful thoughts; for I was the stronger, and I might havedone with her as I pleased. But she swept by me so fearlessly, as Imight pass some loathsome cripple on the road, that I stood turned tostone. Without looking at me, without turning her head to see whetherI followed or remained, or what I did, she went steadily down the trackuntil the trees and the shadow and the growing darkness hid her greyfigure from me; and I found myself alone.
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