The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 1 (of 3)

by Lewis Wingfield

  CHAPTER VII.

  A TERRIBLE DISCOVERY.

  The family did not meet again till the next day at the hour of second_dejeuner_, and an intangible cloud appeared to have fallen on theparty. There was something like suspicion in the manner of those whoyesterday were so trustingly united.

  The chevalier, sulky and silent, would not raise his eyes from hisplate. The liveliest sallies of the abbe fell dismally flat, for evenGabrielle was so pre-occupied that she could not summon a smile. Herbeautiful face was grave and sad, and bore trace of recent tears,while the brow of the marquis wore a frown, as if he had heard badnews. Indeed, a proposition had been placed before him yesternight,or, rather, dropped carelessly, which startled and annoyed him. Incourse of their _tete-a-tete_ over the plans, Pharamond had said, "IfI were you I would be careful not to offend madame, for she, not you,is master." It had never occurred to him before to see things in thislight, and yet it was undoubtedly true. She had never stood betweenhim and his desires, but it was not pleasant to be reminded that shemight be led to do so some day. And from the conversation--as itchanced--a wavering idea had become in his mind a fixed resolve. Theintroduction of an adept into the household had been the happiestthought on the part of Pharamond, but--provoking fellow that hewas--no sooner had he made the suggestion than he proceeded to nip itin the bud. For when Clovis would fain have enlarged upon the topic,the abbe had retorted with a demure headshake: "I made a mistake, andI am sorry. Your wife believes no more in Mesmer than I do--less--and,taking offence, might complain to old de Breze of the introductioninto _his_ house of a pack of needy jugglers."

  If she did it would be awkward and insulting to her husband. Would shebe capable of so unwifely a proceeding? Surely not. The abbe, who wasa compendium of wise maxims, remarked that it would be better not totry her--to let sleeping dogs lie. Perhaps he was right, but the pillpresented to the lips of Clovis was bitter, with a new and acridtaste.

  Glancing round the breakfast-table, the spirits of Pharamond went up,and he rubbed his hands with satisfaction. No need to ask simplePhebus how he had fared last night? Failure was written on his face!

  In the minds of all three who sat around him a tiny germ was working.So far all was well; but the _menage_ must not be permitted to fallback into the doldrums.

  "Come, come!" cried the abbe, cheerily; "what ails us all? Is theangel of death passing overhead? The weather is divine. Were we not tohunt to-day, starting from Montbazon, and is not the attractiveAngelique anxiously awaiting Phebus? Air and exercise will brace ournerves. Clovis's wits want sharpening, and then, maybe, he will guessall about the bucket without further aid from Mesmer."

  Cloud or no cloud, there was no resisting Pharamond for long. His tactwas infinite. Pretending to perceive that there was a tiff of somesort between the chevalier and the chatelaine, he ostentatiouslyinterposed himself between them. No one was in the humour for thechase? Very well. No more was he. Phebus, whose one accomplishment wasa knowledge of horseflesh, had business in the stables, which he wouldbe good enough to see to. The other brothers would flutter aroundGabrielle, who, established on her favourite seat in the moat-garden,would issue orders to her slaves.

  What? The hobby again? Really the prophet should be proud of a pupilso serious and earnest! Well, well. Would dear Gabrielle mind beingleft alone for a little? No? Then the brothers would take a strolltogether, and perhaps the abbe would be converted.

  "If I am," the latter cried merrily, as linking his arm within that ofthe marquis, he led him away, "I shall turn myself to the conversionof Gabrielle. After that we will set our wits to work, arrange a magictub, and all preside over it together."

  The magic tub! When the brothers returned from their walk, heated withdiscussion, the one was airy and serene, the other wofully cross.Gabrielle was sorely troubled by the change which she indistinctlyfelt. Why should Clovis be cross? The reason of the chevalier'ssullenness, alas, she knew too well! The abbe was apparently muchstruck by the arguments of the neophyte, and wavered. Why, then,should Clovis be in a bad humour? And if Pharamond, the clever one,was well nigh convinced, who was she that she should doubt? There wasnothing for it but to submit to the guidance of the abbe.

  Clovis shambled off to his study in a self-conscious and sheepish way,whereupon a sly smile spread over the face of Pharamond.

  "Do you know why our dear Clovis is in so villanous a humour?" heasked, glancing archly down at the marquise. "No, of course not. Youwould never guess. He wants something of you, and is afraid to ask,lest you refuse."

  "Afraid of me!" ejaculated Gabrielle, amazed.

  "Not quite that--but husbands do not like to ask favours and berefused."

  The marquise held her peace, for she was bitterly hurt. Refuse afavour to him, the husband whose good graces she was here tocultivate? Never. Oh, why was he so very blind! How could she everhope to win his entire love and confidence if he read her character soill! Then, overcome by emotion, she wept and confided in the abbe, whoskilfully soothed her pain. He did not deserve such a treasure--thispurblind, blundering husband, of course he did not; but since theChurch had bound the two together, there was nothing for it but tomake the best of the bad bargain. It was most fortunate that he,Pharamond, should have joined the circle, for it should be hisprivilege, as son of the Church, if permitted so great a favour, toact as go-between on delicate subjects, and prevent friction. Now herewas a silly thing which, but for him, might have led to estrangement.Clovis had concluded that his scientific investigations demanded atrained assistant, and dreaded to admit as much. Was he not a foolishfellow?

  Gabrielle's heart sank low within her. Oh, Clovis! Clovis! Anassistant! an army of assistants, if he so wished it. But it wassoul-harrowing that his desires should require an interpreter. And nowthe good churchman changed his note from comfort to gentle chiding.She was ungrateful, the dear Gabrielle, to be so impatient. Theambassador would run on the instant and tell Clovis how he wronged hiswife. She was ready to do all he wished, as he might have known shewould be. Rome was not built in a day, and the firm trustingconfidence which should unite wife and husband requires to be puttogether brick by brick, with plodding patience for a trowel. Itshould not be the abbe's fault if his watchful care did not produce,with time, the desired end. He would try, but Clovis was of asuspicious and untrusting nature, and if failure were to result afterall--why he, the abbe, could not help what, of course, he wouldbitterly deplore.

  It is a curious fact that this was not quite the communication whichhe made to Clovis when, presently, he joined him in his study.

  "She has given way," he said; "I thought I could persuade her. I ledher to feel that though she may hold the purse-strings, she must learnto know that you are master. We shall arrive at that, and make goodour independence with constant quiet pressure. How wise of you totrust in me! Leave the whole matter in my hands. Say nothing on thesubject yourself, for the plant of marital right is a fragile onewhich requires most careful handling."

  Gabrielle spent much of her time in reflection, wondering how it wasthat she should be so lamentably misunderstood. The only one who couldread her aright was Abbe Pharamond, and yet there were points in hisbehaviour which perplexed the simple lady. He was kind and sympatheticnow as he invariably was; but a change might be detected in hismanner, which was a difference, though so slight a one that a manwould scarce have noticed it. He loved to recline at her feet recitingpoetry or reading classic prose--a course of improving literature, hecalled it, for the storing of a magazine that was somewhat empty; andin intervals of rest she would find his steely eyes fixed steadily onher with a peculiar expression that was half pity. Warming under hisever-ready sympathy she confided to him one day the shocking detailsof a certain evening on the river, and was unaccountably pained anddisappointed at the way he treated the disclosure. In the butterflyclergy of Paris--steeped to the lips in vice--such a view would benatural and consistent; but that Pharamond, self-elected friend andM
entor, should display so little indignation and proper principle wasdistressing.

  Instead of being shocked at the escapade of Phebus, he laughedoutright, and remarked lightly, "Of course, the poor donkey fell inlove with you. He must, indeed, be a figure-head of wood who couldresist such charms, and I should be sorry to find a brother of mine tobe made of timber. Command me. Am I not your champion? Shall I rushforth and spit the simpleton for his temerity?"

  Clearly this was not the spirit in which a son of Mother Church shouldreceive the news of a brother-in-law's declaration, and Gabrielledeclared as much to her trusted counsellor.

  "Half-brother-in-law," interrupted the latter, admiring his ovalnails.

  "It is all the same--equally wrong."

  "Oh, dear no! Excuse me, but it takes two halves to make a whole!"This light method of dealing with so grave a subject savoured offlippant levity; added to which distressful fact, the abbe, takingadvantage of Gabrielle's troubled silence, had sidled closer, and waspeering up through half-closed lids with an admiring scrutiny whichmade her vaguely uncomfortable.

  "The heart is independent of the will," he whispered, absently, "andwe should not be blamed for its vagaries! You could not like thefellow? Of course, you could not: he is fat and foolish; and I a doltto ask so vain a question. Before we are aware of it our hearts aregiven, and the gift may not be cancelled. A platitude, is it not? Doesnot that same platitude show that Love is Fate--that where he wills helights, always a conqueror? Who shall punish us for bending before thetyrant?"

  "What can you mean?" inquired the marquise, startled.

  "Say," inquired the abbe. "Despite trivial drawbacks, we are all happyhere together, are we not? As to Phebus, what is your decree? Becausea man loved you, you would not chase him hence? That were undulyharsh."

  No. The marquise had no intention of endeavouring to banish Phebus.Was he not of the same blood as Clovis and Pharamond, husband andfriend? To the latter she owed much, and, being grateful, would strainmany a point to avoid offending him. It was thanks to his interventionthat the wheels had run of late more smoothly. Indeed, she might havecome in time to accept the situation as it was, ceasing to wish forsomething better, but for the chevalier's inconvenient flame. Even asit was, there was no reason why the stream, disturbed for a moment,should not flow as smoothly as before, since Phebus, convinced of hismistake, ceased to be importunate. Enwrapt in a veil of reserve hestudiously avoided a _tete-a-tete_ with her whom he had honoured withelephantine love-making.

  Impelled by these various considerations, Gabrielle replied, quietly,"No. I would not chase a man away because he loved me," and a look ofexultation flashed over the abbe's features, which as quickly faded.

  Lorge in winter could scarcely be called a cheerful spot; yet,accustomed by gradual degrees to the still life of unbroken monotony,none of the party suggested a return to Paris. The chevalier wanderedaimlessly, a solitary figure, the phantom of regret--and his energiesseemed bent on equal avoidance of Gabrielle and Angelique. Clovisbecame more and more engrossed in his pursuits, and though hefrequently discussed the proposed assistant, took no steps--lymphaticunpractical creature--to unearth an adept learned in mystic lore. Itbecame his habit to join the family circle once a day, and on theseoccasions he grew almost genial under the skilled banter of hisbrother. Pharamond, a miracle of resource and ready usefulness,ferreted out curtains of thick silk from mouldering trunks, and madeof the boudoir at the end of the suite quite a tempting and delightfulnest. With heaps of cushions he arranged a species of divan about thefire, and stretched out at full length on it declaimed by the hourwith nice emphasis the sparkling lines of Beaumarchais. Gabrielle didnot quite take in the sense of all he read, but the voice wassingularly sweet and soothing--so different from the groaning'cello--and she grew accustomed as time went on to the singularexpression in the eyes.

  Those were peaceful, placid days. When the snow swirled without inblustering eddies, the curtains were drawn close, and logs were piledupon the fire till they hissed and sparkled, and Gabrielle, as shelistened to the rhythm of the verse, broken pleasantly from time totime by the distant mirth of the children as they romped now and thenwith the attentive chevalier, was fain to confess herself content. Howsmoothly the water runs as it approaches the edge of the precipice,and with what angry foam crests it hurries away after the fall. If thechatelaine had been asked at this juncture whether she pined foraught, she would have said _No_. Clovis, the shadowy one, was nearerto her than he had ever been, condescending sometimes to discussaffairs with her and even play with the darling prodigies. We can'tfashion our spouses to our liking. Those who are undemonstrative mustnot be expected to coruscate. Clovis was not wilfully unkind. Thechevalier had forgotten his folly. What a mercy that was! The abbe,with all his lightly scintillating oddities, was a pearl of price. Allthings considered, existence was not unpleasant.

  The dream was interrupted in this wise. On a certain stormy eveningthe abbe had laid down his book. The chevalier reclined in his chair,gulping in stentorous slumber, while Gabrielle sat listening to thesaddest sound in the world--the soughing of the winter wind. At herfeet lay Pharamond with flushed face, excited by the story he had beenreading--that of Francesca da Rimini.

  "That pig will die in a fit," he remarked presently, with a glance ofscorn at his brother, who lay with his back to them in gurglingunconsciousness; "and the sooner the better, for then we shall bealone."

  "_That day they read no more!_" Ah me, what a tale it is, old as thehills but ever new!

  A silence. Gabrielle too was reflecting on the story of Francesca.

  "An all-devouring consuming love. Tell me, Gabrielle, is it a curse ora blessing?"

  "That depends," replied the other, slowly, "whether it be pure or not.The condition of real love implies abnegation of self in favour of theone who is loved."

  "Too cold a view of it for me," returned the abbe. "I belong to thesouth, where it burns and scorches. I believe that illicit love isbest. Poor Gabrielle! Ignorant sleeping princess, yet awaiting theawakening kiss! How strange, that one so beautiful should never havefelt the divine breath! Clovis could not love. He is too selfish. Withthat brute snoring there, the god-like sentiment rises no higher thanthe lust of the uncultured savage."

  Tears welled into the eyes of Gabrielle. "I take it," she murmured,"that the reason love is so often a curse lies in its inequality,since it is given to no couple to love with equal fervour."

  Under influence of the reading and of the abbe's words, old yearningshad sprung newly into life again which she had deemed dead. Alas! Ifthe affection of Clovis had been as true and staunch as hers, howunclouded a career would have been theirs. Illicit love, he had daredto say--this insidious Pharamond! No; never--never that! She sighed,and with chin on hand, gazed into the fire. It was mere idle prate.Men of a poetic turn run into such extremes.

  How beautiful she looked in the warm fitful glow in a plain sacque ofpalest rose, her hair loosely gathered to display to advantage thepoise of the graceful head. What a perfect neck and shoulder, and howexquisitely modelled an arm. One hand lay carelessly upon her lap. Itwas as though he saw that shapely arm for the first time. The bloodsurging to his brain, the abbe bent down and impressed a burning kisson it.

  Goaded by circumstances--an irresistible temptation--he had betrayedhimself. Well! Why not now as well as later? On the whole, he wasrather glad to have been drawn out of his usual caution.

  Rising from the cushions to his knees, he pressed another kiss uponher shoulder, and whispered with hot and labouring breath, whichseemed to burn the skin--"Gabrielle--my Gabrielle--my own, spite all;it is I who am to teach you the love that maddens and entrances."

  Bewildered by the suddenness of the act, crimson to the roots of herfair hair, Gabrielle sank panting, speechless, against the carvenoak-panel--till, feeling a hand gliding round her waist, she writhedout of the embrace, and, revolted, half-choked, with swimming head,staggered to her feet.

  "You too!" she faltered faintly
, glancing from one brother to theother in fear. "Oh, Pharamond! You must be insane! You did not knowwhat you were doing!"

  "Did I not? Hush. Why wake that idiot?" whispered the abbe, striving,as he clung, to wreathe again about her arm his trembling sinuousfingers. "I know right well what I have done, and glory in it since Ihave made you my own. On the first evening that I set eyes on yourlustrous beauty, I swore that some day you should be mine. That day iscome; you are hemmed round. Others want you, but not so much as I; andwhen I say _I will_, all must give way to that! I hold you in my handas I might a fluttering bird just caught. Aha! How the poor heartbeats. Be calm; oh, heart of mine! I can be patient and wait until thebird shall cease to struggle, and will like you all the better for thefluttering!"

  Gabrielle's blood chilled in growing horror, and she endeavoured torecoil, as he approached. Now she understood the strange expressionthat he wore sometimes. Her chosen counsellor had been slowly windinga limed thread about her limbs which should hold her fast--a helplessvictim to his unhallowed passions--ere she knew that she was bound.Fool! Vain, wicked fool! Could one so astute have so completely missedthe key to the situation? She adored the husband who, in her ignoranceand inexperience, she deemed a demigod. To her he was a genius of whomshe was unworthy. Here was her shield of unsullied steel, andbrilliant, cynical Pharamond, who saw through and despised Clovis,guessed nothing of its existence.

  Then, as thought swiftly followed thought in tumultuous wave, it fellon her with a numb dead weight of misgiving, how much this discoverymight mean to her. What would she do without the abbe's help? Withterror, she realized now as she looked steadily at him, that this wasno wild impulse borne of chance, to be condoned and forgotten likethat of the chevalier, but the result of a deep-laid scheme. She couldsee before her an obstinate man whose will was iron and scruples nil,who had resolved some day to snatch what she had not to give. To whomin so strange an extremity could she turn for help? Wringing her handstogether, she moaned out, "I am alone, without a friend!"

  "Not so!" the abbe whispered, edging nearer. "Trust to me in this asin other matters, for I know best, and you will thank me--oh, howmuch. Are not you to learn and I to teach? I hold the clue of themystery, which is still veiled to you. Learn love from me--burning,devouring love; and for the first time you will know happiness."

  "Another step and I will wake the chevalier!" Gabrielle faltered,wrapping round her a poor tattered shred of shivering dignity.

  Pharamond laughed his long sweet laugh of rippling music, which nowcaused Gabrielle to shudder.

  "Awake him? Do!" gibed he, "or shall I? Look at his bull neck andbroad fat back! He is not yours, for he is mine, though he would havebeen yours if you had wished it. Why not admit the truth in order thatyou may know me? It will save useless trouble. I loyally allowed himas my elder the first chance, on condition that if he failed the prizeshould be left to me. Ha, ha! Awake him by all means, that I may bidhim remove his carcase. It cumbers the ground! Pah! What a pig-likesnore!"

  Again, though she had retreated, with feet faltering among thedraperies, to an extreme corner behind the cushions, Gabrielle feltthe wreathing arm stealing round her waist.

  "Pharamond!" she pleaded huskily, exhausted. "To yourself and me bemerciful, and you will have my earnest prayers----"

  "Would you usurp my functions?" whispered the abbe in mischief.

  The marquise pushed him from her with a strength wrung fromindignation. "For the sake of all of us, go for a time," she murmured."In the name of honest womanhood and vain regret--go! that this follymay be forgotten. I will try to forget. Go! and I swear to you that noword of it shall pass my lips."

  "How little you know me," scoffed the abbe, disdaining for the time topress her further. "Have you not learnt yet, that what I will is done?Awake the pig there, and ask if it is not so. What I have resolvedupon, I do. You are mine--all mine--whether you like it or not; now ora little later!"

  "Then I must seek refuge with my husband."

  "If you accuse me, he will not believe you. The influence over himthat you awkwardly threw away, I gained. How ill you've played yourcards, most charming woman! He is a weak man who must be led by someone--it might have been by _you_. Come, say the word, and you shalllead him yet; or, rather, we will together."

  Gabrielle looked again into the abbe's face (which was so terriblyclose to hers), then at that of his sleeping brother, who had turnedin uneasy slumber. How could she have been deceived so long?Sensuality on both masks--the one, gross and altogether earthy; theother, marked by flashes of sly eyes and twists of thin lips that werenot well to look upon, for that second mask was transparent, and thedevil was peering through.

  "I will give you time to think," proceeded the abbe, "since, thoughthe moment is propitious, you are not in the mood for wooing. Here isa rebus. Your fate is in my hand, yet in your own. According as youdecide, you will find in me the most devoted servant or the mostimplacable enemy. The love of us southerners is not far removed fromhate. According as you act, you may bask in its beams or be scorchedinto a cinder; hence it is to be feared and respected."

  Pressing so close to her that she could feel the pulsations of hisbreast, he added in low accents that cut into her heart like steel,"Be well advised, and comprehend the truth. Your life hangs in thebalance for happiness or misery. Consider, and choose wisely, for thisis the critical time on which your fate depends."

  Then, opening the door with a bow whose distinction would have donehonour to Trianon, he stood aside to let the lady pass into herbedchamber. Closing the door again, he knit his brows and bit hisnails while contemplating the sleeping chevalier. "A trifle premature,that's all," he muttered; "no harm done, for all her sweeping pride.Well-meaning, vacillating women are like satin-skinned horses in thearena--all the better for a touch of the lash. It is written, mymission is to teach her _love_, and I will do it thoroughly from myown point of view--of course. She is inexperienced, and proud, andempty. If the fruit's not ripe, I've time to wait for it to mellow.Perhaps, who knows? I may, should she be restive, be forced to crushher pride. A pity! for it would be a charm removed. Perchance I shallonly squeeze firmly, without crushing it. The snaring of a bird thatis shy, whose plumage must not be injured! Shall it be tamed bykindness, or the reverse? A problem, this, that Time's slow fingersmust unravel. The key to it is patience--most valuable of virtues!" Hestood long, pondering as he surveyed his sleeping brother. It was asif he sought some luminous answer in those puffed and stolid features.

  Next morning, Gabrielle appeared at dejeuner with pallid cheeks andred eyes, under whose lids there glinted a ray of apprehension. ThatClovis's two half-brothers should both have developed, withoutencouragement, so ill-omened a passion! What had the future in storefor a helpless woman as the upshot of so perilous a dilemma? Was itnot, after all, an ugly dream--a hideous nightmare born of Erebus,that had been routed by healthful morning? Having eaten his fill,Clovis was placidly sipping claret, and forming a mimic tub out ofbread-crusts. The round visage of the chevalier was as expressionlessas usual.

  Upon the entrance of the chatelaine, the abbe had risen to close thedoor with nimblest alacrity and deftest grace, and had led her to thetable with ceremoniously respectful finger-tips. The evil expressionwas gone. Glancing nervously at him, she saw nothing but a polishedbonhomie veneered with distant and deferential kindliness. He deploredher looks with ready grief, but added, for consolation, that a washedrose revives in sunshine, and becomes more fragrant for the shower.

  "She mopes for lack of proper exercise," he exclaimed, with a gentleheadshake of reproach. "Let us make a little party, and make a raid onMontbazon."

  Clovis, busy with the bread-crusts, remarked somewhat tartly that hewas much occupied, as they ought all to know; that the others hadbetter go without him; whereupon Gabrielle turned pale. Ride with thetwo brothers, whose overweening and importunate affection she had sorecently repulsed!

  "I vow," cried facetious Pharamond, "that our Gabrielle is growingdelicate. S
he who was wont to be active objects to exercise.Decidedly, my Clovis, we must set the miraculous tub agoing for thebenefit of your delightful wife."