The King's Warrant: A Story of Old and New France

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The King's Warrant: A Story of Old and New France Page 8

by Alfred H. Engelbach


  CHAPTER II.

  Whether or not there was in that part of France a more charming viewthan that from the terrace of the Chateau de Valricour, there certainlywas not in all France on that bright May morning a more happy pair thanthe two young people who sat side by side, each clasping the other'shand, in one of the pleasant trellised arbours which from either end ofthe terrace overlooked the pleasant scene. And yet, perhaps, those whothink the beautiful in nature inconsistent with strongly marked andstriking features, might consider that true happiness and prosperity,so called, could not co-exist with such intense excitement and suchbewildering surprise as just then rendered Isidore and Marguerite forsome minutes incapable of expressing what they felt.

  "I can scarcely believe it possible. O Isidore! are you quite surethat there is no strange mistake in it all?"

  "Nay, read for yourself, my darling one," he replied, once moreunfolding the letter which he held in his hand, and quietly withdrawingthe other to point to the words that had brought out the passionatedeclaration he had but just made to her.

  "See here! After a few lines about my uncle Valricour, this is what myfather says. You do not know him as well as I do, but you see he isnot one to allow any silly notions about fortune or noble descent tostand in the way of what he believes to be right."

  Marguerite took the letter, and though still trembling with excitement,managed to read as follows:

  "And now, my dear son, I must allude to a very different matter.Madame de Valricour writes to me that you have lost your heart, andthat although for reasons, which, she says, she quite understands, youhave not made it known, she thinks it time that I should intervene. Ithink so too; and I do so the more willingly as I doubt not that yourreticence and hesitation in this matter has arisen from a naturalfeeling that I might be opposed to your union with one who is not yourequal in point of rank, and who will not, I fancy, bring you a sou inthe way of marriage portion. Well, I will ease your mind at once. Toyou, and therefore to me, money can be no object. As an old soldiermyself I might well be content to receive as my daughter-in-law evenone who could boast of no higher title than that of a brave soldier'sdaughter; in any case, your wife will be the Marquise de Beaujardin,so, assuming that Madame de Valricour is correct in her supposition, Isee no reason why I should go out of my way to thwart a son who hasever deserved my affection, and has proved himself likewise to beworthy of the name of a good soldier."

  The letter dropped from her hands. "Isidore, Isidore! what have youdone?" said she in a tone that had in it no trace of the delight he hadanticipated. "O Isidore! your fond heart has blinded you. What shallI do? Isidore, you have brought ruin on your dear self, and all forme!"

  Astonished and disconcerted at this unexpected outburst, Isidore wouldhave endeavoured to calm her, but as he took her hand in his sheuttered a slight cry, and on looking round he beheld Madame deValricour standing only a few paces from them, regarding themapparently with speechless amazement.

  However much the young marquis might have lost his self-possession whenhe and Marguerite were the only actors in the scene, the appearance ofMadame de Valricour at once brought back his usual command overhimself, although he certainly was somewhat puzzled at the blankexpression of her face at that moment.

  "I would apologise to you, my dear aunt," said he, "for allowing myselfto be caught at such a very sentimental crisis, but that I know that itis to you and no one else that I owe my happiness at this moment,and----"

  He stopped short, for the blank look had suddenly changed into one sofiercely angry that anything further in the way of complimentaryspeeches was not to be thought of, and a dead pause ensued.

  "Leave us, Mademoiselle Lacroix!" cried Madame de Valricour vehemently.Marguerite hesitated, her reluctance to leave Isidore alone in sopainful a dilemma, overcoming even her habitual deference to Madame deValricour; but Isidore, who felt that he should be more free to speakor act if unembarrassed by her presence, quietly led her away from thespot. Then, after raising her hand to his lips, he returned to thebaroness and addressed her thus--

  "I am utterly at a loss to understand you, my aunt--you, to whom I wasabout to offer my warmest thanks for so kindly smoothing the way to myunion with Mademoiselle Lacroix."

  "I!" exclaimed the baroness, apparently forgetting her indignation fora moment in her amazement. "I! Who says this? It is false! There issome ridiculous mistake here--or rather some shameful trick. You havenot dared, sir, to make the girl believe that----"

  "Calm yourself, my good aunt," replied Isidore, interrupting her. "Asfor trick or deception, I shall not insult either you or myself byfurther noticing words spoken in a hasty moment. As for any mistake,you or my father must answer for that, if there is any. He tells meyou have written to him on the subject, and he has expressed hisapproval of my choice."

  "It is false, absolutely false!" exclaimed the baroness, passionately."When--where has the marquis told you this? Show me the letter. It isa cheat which you would put both upon me and this girl. Show me theletter, I say!"

  "If Madame de Valricour doubts my word," answered Isidore haughtily,"she will have to satisfy herself elsewhere. I am not in the habit ofsubstantiating my assertions."

  "I say again it is false," reiterated the incensed baroness, forgettingher usual caution. "I wrote to your father about you and Clotilde. Doyou dare to tell me that he has bidden you to marry some one else? Ifyou are not a base and unworthy trickster, then you must be the veriestidiot alive."

  A single lens may not, perhaps, suffice to make an object visible, butplace another in juxtaposition with it and suddenly all becomes clearand distinct. Isidore recalled the piteous words uttered by Margueriteas she dropped the letter, and the truth flashed across his mind atonce.

  Madame de Valricour had thrown herself into a chair as she concludedher tirade, for the collected way in which her nephew had at firstlistened to her, and his high and mighty air, seemed to belie anycharge of duplicity at all events. But when she noticed the alarmedexpression of his face, and the no less unmistakable change in hismanner, she was on her feet again in a moment and was about to renewthe attack, but he interrupted her.

  "Pardon me, my aunt," said he, "it is worse than useless for us two todiscuss this business. I am afraid I have made a mistake indeed, andone that is like enough to cause no little bitterness and trouble. YetI do not regret it for one moment," he added, as he thought of the fewloving words with which Marguerite had confessed her long-cherishedaffection for him. "Whatever you may think, my aunt, I have actedhonestly and in good faith, and it will rest with my father to decidehow all this is to end. I shall appeal to him at once. Nay, I beseechyou, my good aunt," he continued, seeing the baroness about to breakforth again, "let us not make things worse by useless altercation.With your permission I will relieve you of my presence, and will desireJasmin to order our horses that I may return at once to Beaujardin."

  Without giving Madame de Valricour time for any further comment,Isidore then bowed to her and withdrew.

  Tailpiece to Chapter II]

  Headpiece to Chapter III]

 

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