CHAPTER V.
After Edouard's departure, Josephine de Beaurepaire was sad, and weigheddown with presentiments. She felt as soldiers sometimes feel who knowthe enemy is undermining them; no danger on the surface; nothing thatcan be seen, met, baffled, attacked, or evaded; in daily peril, all themore horrible that it imitates perfect serenity, they await the fatalmatch. She imparted her misgivings to Aubertin; but he assured her sheexaggerated the danger.
"We have a friend still more zealous and active than our enemy; believeme, your depression is really caused by his absence; we all miss thecontact of that young heroic spirit; we are a body, and he its soul."
Josephine was silent, for she said to herself, "Why should I dash theirspirits? they are so happy and confident."
Edouard had animated Rose and Aubertin with his own courage, and hadeven revived the baroness.
It had been agreed between him and Picard that the latter shouldcommunicate with Dr. Aubertin direct, should anything fresh occur. Andon the third day after Edouard's departure, Picard sent up a privatemessage: "Perrin has just sent me a line to say he will not trouble us,as he is offered the money in another quarter."
This was a heavy blow, and sent them all to bed more or less despondent.
The next day brought a long letter from Edouard to Rose, telling her hehad found his uncle crusty at first; but at last with a little patience,and the co-operation of Martha, his uncle's old servant, and his nurse,the old boy had come round. They might look on the affair as all butsettled.
The contents of this letter were conveyed to the baroness. The housebrightened under it: the more so that there was some hope of theirsuccessful champion returning in person next day. Meantime Perrin hadapplied to Raynal for the immediate loan of a large sum of money onexcellent security. Raynal refused plump. Perrin rode away disconsolate.
But the next day he returned to the charge with another proposal: andthe nature of this second proposal we shall learn from events.
The day Edouard was expected opened deliciously. It was a balmy morning,and tempted the sisters out before breakfast. They strolled on thesouth terrace with their arms round each other's waists, talking aboutEdouard, and wondering whether they should really see him before night.Rose owned she had missed him, and confessed for the first time she wasa proud and happy girl.
"May I tell him so?" asked Josephine.
"Not for all the world. Would you dare?"
Further discussion of that nice point was stopped by the baroness comingout, leaning on Dr. Aubertin.
Then--how we young people of an unceremonious age should havestared--the demoiselles de Beaurepaire, inasmuch as this was theirmother's first appearance, lowered their fair heads at the same timelike young poplars bowing to the wind, and so waited reverently till shehad slightly lifted her hands, and said, "God bless you, my children!"
It was done in a moment on both sides, but full of grace and piety, andthe charm of ancient manners.
"How did our dear mother sleep?" inquired Josephine. Aubertin interposedwith a theory that she slept very well indeed if she took what he gaveher.
"Ay, IF," suggested Rose, saucily.
"I slept," said the baroness, "and I wish I had not for I dreamed anugly dream." They all gathered round her, and she told her dream.
"I thought I was with you all in this garden. I was admiring the flowersand the trees, and the birds were singing with all their might. Suddenlya dark cloud came; it cleared almost directly; but flowers, trees, sky,and birds were gone now, and I could see the chateau itself no more. Itmeans that I was dead. An ugly dream, my children, an ugly dream."
"But only a dream, dear mother," said Rose: then with a sweet, consolingsmile, "See, here is your terrace and your chateau."
"And here are your daughters," said Josephine; and they both cameand kissed her to put their existence out of doubt. "And here is yourAesculapius," said Aubertin. "And here is your Jacintha."
"Breakfast, madame," said Jacintha. "Breakfast, mesdemoiselles.Breakfast, monsieur:" dropping each a distinct courtesy in turn.
"She has turned the conversation very agreeably," said the baroness, andwent in leaning on her old friend.
But the sisters lagged behind and took several turns in silence. Rosewas the first to speak. "How superstitious of you!"
"I said nothing."
"No; but you looked volumes at me while mamma was telling her dream. Formy part I feel sure love is stronger than hate; and we shall stay allour days in this sweet place: and O Josey! am I not a happy girl thatit's all owing to HIM!"
At this moment Jacintha came running towards them. They took it for asummons to breakfast, and moved to meet her. But they soon saw she wasalmost as white as her apron, and she came open-mouthed and wringing herhands. "What shall I do? what shall I do? Oh, don't let my poor mistressknow!"
They soon got from her that Dard had just come from the town, andlearned the chateau was sold, and the proprietor coming to takepossession this very day. The poor girls were stupefied by the blow.
If anything, Josephine felt it worst. "It is my doing," she gasped, andtottered fainting. Rose supported her: she shook it off by a violenteffort. "This is no time for weakness," she cried, wildly; "come to thePleasaunce; there is water there. I love my mother. What will I not dofor her? I love my mother."
Muttering thus wildly she made for the pond in the Pleasaunce. She hadno sooner turned the angle of the chateau than she started back witha convulsive cry, and her momentary feebleness left her directly; shecrouched against the wall and griped the ancient corner-stone with hertender hand till it powdered, and she spied with dilating eye into thePleasaunce, Rose and Jacintha panting behind her. Two men stood withtheir backs turned to her looking at the oak-tree; one an officer infull uniform, the other the human snake Perrin. Though the soldier'sback was turned, his off-handed, peremptory manner told her he wasinspecting the place as its master.
"The baroness! the baroness!" cried Jacintha, with horror. They lookedround, and the baroness was at their very backs.
"What is it?" cried she, gayly.
"Nothing, mamma."
"Let me see this nothing."
They glanced at one another, and, idle as the attempt was, the habitof sparing her prevailed, and they flung themselves between her and theblow.
"Josephine is not well," said Rose. "She wants to go in." Both girlsfaced the baroness.
"Jacintha," said the baroness, "fetch Dr. Aubertin. There, I have senther away. So now tell me, why do you drive me back so? Something hashappened," and she looked keenly from one to the other.
"O mamma! do not go that way: there are strangers in the Pleasaunce."
"Let me see. So there are. Call Jacintha back that I may order thesepeople out of my premises." Josephine implored her to be calm.
"Be calm when impertinent intruders come into my garden?"
"Mother, they are not intruders."
"What do you mean?"
"They have a right to be in our Pleasaunce. They have bought thechateau."
"It is impossible. HE was to buy it for us--there is some mistake--whatman would kill a poor old woman like me? I will speak to this gentleman:he wears a sword. Soldiers do not trample on women. Ah! that man."
The notary, attracted by her voice, was coming towards her, a paper inhis hand.
Raynal coolly inspected the tree, and tapped it with his scabbard, andleft Perrin to do the dirty work. The notary took off his hat, and, witha malignant affectation of respect, presented the baroness with a paper.
The poor old thing took it with a courtesy, the effect of habit, andread it to her daughters as well as her emotion permitted, and thelanguage, which was as new to her as the dialect of Cat Island toColumbus.
"Jean Raynal, domiciled by right, and lodging in fact at the Chateauof Beaurepaire, acting by the pursuit and diligence of Master Perrin,notary; I, Guillaume Le Gras, bailiff, give notice to Josephine AglaeSt. Croix de Beaurepaire, commonly called the Baroness de Beaurepaire
,having no known place of abode"--
"Oh!"
"But lodging wrongfully at the said Chateau of Beaurepaire, that she iswarned to decamp within twenty-four hours"--
"To decamp!"
"Failing which that she will be thereto enforced in the manner for thatcase made and provided with the aid of all the officers and agents ofthe public force."
"Ah! no, messieurs, pray do not use force. I am frightened enoughalready. I did not know I was doing anything wrong. I have been herethirty years. But, since Beaurepaire is sold, I comprehend perfectlythat I must go. It is just. As you say, I am not in my own house. I willgo, gentlemen, I will go. Whither shall I go, my children? The housewhere you were born to me is ours no longer. Excuse me, gentlemen--thisis nothing to you. Ah! sir, you have revenged yourself on two weakwomen--may Heaven forgive you!"
The notary turned on his heel. The poor baroness, all whose pride theiron law, with its iron gripe, had crushed into dismay and terror,appealed to him. "O sir! send me from the house, but not from the soilwhere my Henri is laid! is there not in all this domain a corner whereshe who was its mistress may lie down and die? Where is the NEW BARON,that I may ask this favor of him on my knees?"
She turned towards Raynal and seemed to be going towards him withoutstretched arms. But Rose checked her with fervor. "Mamma! do notlower yourself. Ask nothing of these wretches. Let us lose all, but notforget ourselves."
The baroness had not her daughter's spirit. Her very person totteredunder this blow. Josephine supported her, and the next moment Aubertincame out and hastened to her side. Her head fell back; what littlestrength she had failed her; she was half lifted, half led, into thehouse.
Commandant Raynal was amazed at all this, and asked what the deuce wasthe matter.
"Oh!" said the notary, "we are used to these little scenes in ourbusiness."
"But I am not," replied the soldier. "You never told me there was to beall this fuss."
He then dismissed his friend rather abruptly and strode up and down thePleasaunce. He twisted his mustaches, muttered, and "pested," andwas ill at ease. Accustomed to march gayly into a town, and see theregiment, that was there before, marching gayly out, or vice versa, andto strike tents twice a quarter at least, he was little prepared forsuch a scene as this. True, he did not hear all the baroness's words,but more than one tone of sharp distress reached him where he stood, andthe action of the whole scene was so expressive, there was little needof words. He saw the notice given; the dismay it caused, and the oldlady turn imploringly towards him with a speaking gesture, and above allhe saw her carried away, half fainting, her hands clasped, herreverend face pale. He was not a man of quick sensibilities. He did notthoroughly take the scene in at first: it grew upon him afterwards.
"Confound it," thought he, "I am the proprietor. They all say so.Instead of which I feel like a thief. Fancy her getting so fond of aPLACE as all this."
Presently it occurred to him that the shortness of the notice mighthave much to do with her distress. "These notaries," said he to himself,"understand nothing save law: women have piles of baggage, and can'tstrike tents directly the order comes, as we can. Perhaps if I were togive them twenty-four days instead of hours?--hum!"
With this the commandant fell into a brown study. Now each of us has hisattitude of brown study. One runs about the room like hyena in his den;another stands stately with folded arms (this one seldom thinks to thepurpose); another sits cross-legged, brows lowered: another must puthis head into his hand, and so keep it up to thinking mark: another musttwiddle a bit of string, or a key; grant him this, he can hatch an epic.This commandant must draw himself up very straight, and walk six pacesand back very slowly, till the problem was solved: I suspect he had donea good bit of sentinel work in his time.
Now whilst he was guarding the old oak-tree, for all the world as ifit had been the gate of the Tuileries or the barracks, Josephine deBeaurepaire came suddenly out from the house and crossed the Pleasaunce:her hair was in disorder, her manner wild: she passed swiftly into thepark.
Raynal recognized her as one of the family; and after a moment'sreflection followed her into the park with the good-natured intention ofoffering her a month to clear out instead of a day.
But it was not so easy to catch her: she flew. He had to take hisscabbard in his left hand and fairly run after her. Before he couldcatch her, she entered the little chapel. He came up and had his foot onthe very step to go in, when he was arrested by that he heard within.
Josephine had thrown herself on her knees and was praying aloud: prayingto the Virgin with sighs and sobs and all her soul: wrestling so inprayer with a dead saint as by a strange perversity men cannot or willnot wrestle with Him, who alone can hear a million prayers at once froma million different places,--can realize and be touched with a senseof all man's infirmities in a way no single saint with his partialexperience of them can realize and be touched by them; who unaskedsuspended the laws of nature that had taken a stranger's only son, andshe a widow; and wept at another great human sorrow, while the eyes ofall the great saints that stood around it and Him were dry.
Well, the soldier stood, his right foot on the step and his sword inhis left hand, transfixed: listening gravely to the agony of prayer theinnocent young creature poured forth within:--
"O Madonna! hear me: it is for my mother's life. She will die--she willdie. You know she cannot live if she is taken away from her house andfrom this holy place where she prays to you this many years. O Queenof Heaven! put out your hand to us unfortunates! Virgin, hear a virgin:mother, listen to a child who prays for her mother's life! The doctorsays she will not live away from here. She is too old to wander over theworld. Let them drive us forth: we are young, but not her, mother, oh,not her! Forgive the cruel men that do this thing!--they are like thosewho crucified your Son--they know not what they are doing. But you,Queen of Heaven, you know all; and, sweet mother, if you have kindsentiments towards me, poor Josephine, ah! show them now: for you knowthat it was I who insulted that wicked notary, and it is out of hatredto me he has sold our beloved house to a hard stranger. Look down on me,a child who loves her mother, yet will destroy her unless you pity meand help me. Oh! what shall I say?--what shall I do? mercy! mercy! formy poor mother, for me!"
Here her utterance was broken by sobs.
The soldier withdrew his foot quietly. Her words had knocked againsthis very breast-bone. He marched slowly to and fro before the chapel,upright as a dart, and stiff as a ramrod, and actually pale: for evenour nerves have their habits; a woman's passionate grief shook him as acannon fired over his head could not.
Josephine little thought who was her sentinel. She came to the doorat last, and there he was marching backwards and forwards, upright andstiff. She gave a faint scream and drew back with a shudder at the sightof their persecutor. She even felt faintish at him, as women will insuch cases.
Not being very quick at interpreting emotion, Raynal noticed her alarm,but not her repugnance; he saluted her with military precision bytouching his cap as only a soldier can, and said rather gently for him,"A word with you, mademoiselle."
She replied only by trembling.
"Don't be frightened," said Raynal, in a tone not very reassuring. "Ipropose an armistice."
"I am at your disposal, sir," said Josephine, now assuming a calmnessthat was belied by the long swell of her heaving bosom.
"Of course you look on me as an enemy."
"How can I do otherwise, sir? yet perhaps I ought not. You did not knowus. You just wanted an estate, I suppose--and--oh!"
"Well, don't cry; and let us come to the point, since I am a man of fewwords."
"If you please, sir. My mother may miss me."
"Well, I was in position on your flank when the notary delivered hisfire. And I saw the old woman's distress."
"Ah, sir!"
"When you came flying out I followed to say a good word to you. I couldnot catch you. I listened while you prayed to the Virgin. That was not asoldier-li
ke trick, you will say. I confess it."
"It matters little, sir, and you heard nothing I blush for."
"No! by St. Denis; quite the contrary. Well, to the point. Young lady,you love your mother."
"What has she on earth now but her children's love?"
"Now look here, young lady, I had a mother; I loved her in my humdrumway very dearly. She promised me faithfully not to die till I should bea colonel; and she went and died before I was a commandant, even; justbefore, too."
"Then I pity you," murmured Josephine; and her soft purple eye began todwell on him with less repugnance.
"Thank you for that word, my good young lady," said Raynal. "Now, Ideclare, you are the first that has said that word to me about my losingthe true friend, that nursed me on her knee, and pinched and pinched tomake a man of me. I should like to tell you about her and me."
"I shall feel honored," said Josephine, politely, but with considerablerestraint.
Then he told her all about how he had vexed her when he was a boy, andgone for a soldier, though she was all for trade, and how he hadbeen the more anxious to see her enjoy his honors and success. "And,mademoiselle," said he, appealingly, "the day this epaulet was put on myshoulder in Italy, she died in Paris. Ah! how could you have the heartto do that, my old woman?"
The soldier's mustache quivered, and he turned away brusquely, andtook several steps. Then he came back to Josephine, and to his infinitesurprise saw that her purple eyes were thick with tears. "What? you arewithin an inch of crying for my mother, you who have your own trouble atthis hour."
"Monsieur, our situations are so alike, I may well spare some littlesympathy for your misfortune."
"Thank you, my good young lady. Well, then, to business; while you werepraying to the Virgin, I was saying a word or two for my part to her whois no more."
"Sir!"
"Oh! it was nothing beautiful like the things you said to the other.Can I turn phrases? I saw her behind her little counter in the RueQuincampoix; for she is a woman of the people, is my mother. I sawmyself come to the other side of the counter, and I said, 'Look here,mother, here is the devil to pay about this new house. The old womantalks of dying if we take her from her home, and the young one weepsand prays to all the saints in paradise; what shall we do, eh?' ThenI thought my old woman said to me, 'Jean, you are a soldier, a sort ofvagabond; what do you want with a house in France? you who are always ina tent in Italy or Austria, or who knows where. Have you the courage togive honest folk so much pain for a caprice? Come now,' says she, 'thelady is of my age, say you, and I can't keep your fine house, becauseGod has willed it otherwise; so give her my place; so then you can fancyit is me you have set down at your hearth: that will warm your heart upa bit, you little scamp,' said my old woman in her rough way. She wasnot well-bred like you, mademoiselle. A woman of the people, nothingmore."
"She was a woman of God's own making, if she was like that," criedJosephine, the tears now running down her cheeks.
"Ah, that she was, she was. So between her and me it is settled--whatare you crying for NOW? why, you have won the day; the field is yours;your mother and you remain; I decamp." He whipped his scabbard up withhis left hand, and was going off without another word, if Josephine hadnot stopped him.
"But, sir, what am I to think? what am I to hope? it is impossible thatin this short interview--and we must not forget what is due to you. Youhave bought the estate."
"True; well, we will talk over that, to-morrow; but being turned out ofthe house, that was the bayonet thrust to the old lady. So you run inand put her heart at rest about it. Tell her that she may live and diein this house for Jean Raynal; and tell her about the old woman in theRue Quincampoix."
"God bless you, Jean Raynal!" cried Josephine, clasping her hands.
"Are you going?" said he, peremptorily.
"Oh, yes!" and she darted towards the chateau.
But when she had taken three steps she paused, and seemed irresolute.She turned, and in a moment she had glided to Raynal again and had takenhis hand before he could hinder her, and pressed two velvet lips on it,and was away again, her cheeks scarlet at what she had done, and her weteyes beaming with joy. She skimmed the grass like a lapwing; you wouldhave taken her at this minute for Rose, or for Virgil's Camilla; at thegate she turned an instant and clasped her hands together, with such alook, to show Raynal she blessed him again, then darted into the house.
"Aha, my lady," said he, as he watched her fly, "behold you changed alittle since you came out." He was soon on the high road marchingdown to the town at a great rate, his sword clanking, and thus ran histhoughts: "This does one good; you are right, my old woman. Your son'sbosom feels as warm as toast. Long live the five-franc pieces! And theypretend money cannot make a fellow happy. They lie; it is because theydo not know how to spend it."
Meantime at the chateau, as still befalls in emergencies and trials,the master spirit came out and took its real place. Rose was now themistress of Beaurepaire; she set Jacintha, and Dard, and the doctor,to pack up everything of value in the house. "Do it this moment!" shecried; "once that notary gets possession of the house, it may be toolate. Enough of folly and helplessness. We have fooled away house andlands; our movables shall not follow them."
The moment she had set the others to work, she wrote a single line toRiviere to tell him the chateau and lands were sold, and would he cometo Beaurepaire at once? She ran with it herself to Bigot's auberge, thenearest post-office, and then back to comfort her mother.
The baroness was seated in her arm-chair, moaning and wringing herhands, and Rose was nursing and soothing her, and bathing her templeswith her last drop of eau de Cologne, and trying in vain to put some ofher own courage into her, when in came Josephine radiant with happiness,crying "Joy! joy! joy!" and told her strange tale, with this difference,that she related her own share in it briefly and coldly, and was moreeloquent than I about the strange soldier's goodness, and the interesther mother had awakened in his heart. And she told about the old womanin the Rue Quincampoix, her rugged phrases, and her noble, tender heart.The baroness, deaf to Rose's consolations, brightened up directly atJosephine's news, and at her glowing face, as she knelt pouring the goodnews, and hope, and comfort, point blank into her. But Rose chilled themboth.
"It is a generous offer," said, she, "but one we cannot accept. Wecannot live under so great an obligation. Is all the generosity to be onthe side of this Bonapartist? Are we noble in name only? What would ourfather have said to such a proposal?"
Josephine hung her head. The baroness groaned.
"No, mother," continued Rose; "let house and land go, but honor and truenobility remain."
"What shall I do? you are cruel to me, Rose."
"Mamma," cried the enthusiastic girl, "we need depend on no one.Josephine and I have youth and spirit."
"But no money."
"We have plenty of jewels, and pictures, and movables. We can take afarm."
"A farm!" shrieked the baroness.
"Why, his uncle has a farm, and we have had recourse to him for help:better a farmhouse than an almshouse, though that almshouse were apalace instead of a chateau."
Josephine winced and held up her hand deprecatingly. The baroness paled:it was a terrible stroke of language to come from her daughter. She saidsternly, "There is no answer to that. We were born nobles, let us diefarmers: only permit me to die first."
"Forgive me, mother," said Rose, kneeling. "I was wrong; it is for meto obey you, not to dictate. I speak no more." And, after kissing hermother and Josephine, she crept away, but she left her words sticking inboth their consciences.
"HIS uncle," said the shrewd old lady. "She is no longer a child; andshe says his uncle. This makes me half suspect it is her that dearboy--Josephine, tell me the truth, which of you is it?"
"Dear mother, who should it be? they are nearly of an age: and what manwould not love our sweet Rose, that had eyes or a heart?"
The baroness sighed deeply; and was silent. Aft
er awhile she said, "Themoment they have a lover, he detaches their hearts from their poor oldmother. She is no longer what my Josephine is to me."
"Mamma, she is my superior. I see it more and more every day. She isproud: she is just; she looks at both sides. As for me, I am too apt tosee only what will please those I love."
"And that is the daughter for me," cried the poor baroness, opening herarms wide to her.
The next morning when they were at breakfast, in came Jacintha to saythe officer was in the dining-room and wanted to speak with the younglady he talked to yesterday. Josephine rose and went to him. "Well,mademoiselle," said he gayly, "the old woman was right. Here I have justgot my orders to march: to leave France in a month. A pretty businessit would have been if I had turned your mother out. So you see there isnothing to hinder you from living here."
"In your house, sir?"
"Why not, pray?"
"Forgive us. But we feel that would be unjust to you, humiliating to us:the poor are sometimes proud."
"Of course they are," said Raynal: "and I don't want to offend yourpride. Confound the house: why did I go and buy it? It is no use tome except to give pain to worthy people." He then, after a moment'sreflection, asked her if the matter could not be arranged by some thirdparty, a mutual friend. "Then again," said he, "I don't know any friendof yours."
"Yes, sir," said Josephine; "we have one friend, who knows you, andesteems you highly."
She wanted to name Edouard; but she hesitated, and asked her conscienceif it was fair to name him: and while she blushed and hesitated, lo andbehold a rival referee hove in sight. Raynal saw him, suddenly opened awindow, and shouted, "Hallo come in here: you are wanted."
Perrin had ridden up to complete the exodus of the De Beaurepaires, andwas strolling about inspecting the premises he had expelled them from.
Here was a pretty referee!
Josephine almost screamed--"What are you doing? that is our enemy, ourbitterest enemy. He has only sold you the estate to spite us, not forthe love of you. I had--we had--we mortified his vanity. It was not ourfault: he is a viper. Sir, pray, pray, pray be on your guard against hiscounsels."
These words spoken with rare fire and earnestness carried conviction:but it was too late to recall the invitation. The notary entered theroom, and was going to bow obsequiously to Raynal, when he caught sightof Josephine, and almost started. Raynal, after Josephine's warning, wasa little at a loss how to make him available; and even that short delaygave the notary's one foible time to lead him into temptation. "Ourfoibles are our manias."
"So," said he, "you have taken possession, commandant. These militarymen are prompt, are they not, mademoiselle?"
"Do not address yourself to me, sir, I beg," said Josephine quietly.
Perrin kept his self-command. "It is only as Commandant Raynal's agentI presume to address so distinguished a lady: in that character I mustinform you that whatever movables you have removed are yours: those wefind in the house on entering we keep."
"Come, come, not so fast," cried Raynal; "bother the chairs and tables!that is not the point."
"Commandant," said the notary with dignity, "have I done anything tomerit this? have I served your interests so ill that you withdraw yourconfidence from me?"
"No, no, my good fellow; but you exceed your powers. Just now I want youto take orders, not give them."
"That is only just," said Perrin, "and I recall my hasty remark: excusethe susceptibility of a professional man, who is honored with the esteemof his clients; and favor me with your wishes."
"All right," said Raynal heartily. "Well, then--I want mademoiselleand her family to stay here while I go to Egypt with the First Consul.Mademoiselle makes difficulties; it offends her delicacy."
"Comedy!" said the notary contemptuously.
"Though her mother's life depends on her staying here."
"Comedy!" said Perrin. Raynal frowned.
"Her pride (begging her pardon) is greater than her affection."
"Farce!"
"I have pitched upon you to reconcile the two."
"Then you have pitched upon the wrong man," said Perrin bluntly. Headded obsequiously, "I am too much your friend. She has been talking youover, no doubt; but you have a friend, an Ulysses, who is deaf to thesiren's voice. I will be no party to such a transaction. I will notco-operate to humbug my friend and rob him of his rights."
If Josephine was inferior to the notary in petty sharpness, she washis superior in the higher kinds of sagacity; and particularly ininstinctive perception of character. Her eye flashed with delight at theline Perrin was now taking with Raynal. The latter speedily justifiedher expectations: he just told Perrin to be off, and send him a moreaccommodating notary.
"A more accommodating notary!" screamed Perrin, stung to madness bythis reproach. "There is not a more accommodating notary in Europe.Ungrateful man! is this the return for all my zeal, my integrity, myunselfishness? Is there another agent in the world who would have letsuch a bargain as Beaurepaire fall into your hands? It serves me rightfor deviating from the rules of business. Send me another agent--oh!"
The honest soldier was confused. The lawyer's eloquence overpoweredhim. He felt guilty. Josephine saw his simplicity, and made a cut witha woman's two-edged sword. "Sir," said she coolly, "do you not see it isan affair of money? This is his way of saying, Pay me handsomely for sounusual a commission."
"And I'll pay him double," cried Raynal, catching the idea; "don't bealarmed, I'll pay you for it."
"And my zeal, my devotion?"
"Put 'em in figures."
"And my prob--?"
"Add it up."
"And my integ--?"
"Add them together: and don't bother me."
"I see! I see! my poor soldier. You are no match for a woman's tongue."
"Nor, for a notary's. Go to h---, and send in your bill!" roared thesoldier in a fury. "Well, will you go?" and he marched at him.
The notary scuttled out, with something between a snarl and a squeak.
Josephine hid her face in her hands.
"What is the matter with you?" inquired Raynal. "Not crying again,surely!"
"Me! I never cry--hardly. I hid my face because I could not helplaughing. You frightened me, sir," said she: then very demurely, "I wasafraid you were going to beat him."
"No, no; a good soldier never leathers a civilian if he can possiblyhelp it; it looks so bad; and before a lady!"
"Oh, I would have forgiven you, monsieur," said Josephine benignly, andsomething like a little sun danced in her eye.
"Now, mademoiselle, since my referee has proved a pig, it is your turn.Choose you a mutual friend."
Josephine hesitated. "Ours is so young. You know him very well. Youare doubtless the commandant of whom I once heard him speak with suchadmiration: his name is Riviere, Edouard Riviere."
"Know him? he is my best officer, out and out." And without a moment'shesitation he took Edouard's present address, and accepted that youthfulDaniel as their referee; then looked at his watch and marched off to hispublic duties with sabre clanking at his heels.
The notary went home gnashing his teeth. His sweet revenge was turned towormwood this day. Raynal's parting commissions rang in his ear; in hisbitter mood the want of logical sequence in the two orders disgustedhim.
So he inverted them.
He sent in a thundering bill the very next morning, but postponed theother commission till his dying day.
As for Josephine, she came into the drawing-room beaming with loveand happiness, and after kissing both her mother and Rose with gentleviolence, she let them know the strange turn things had taken.
And she whispered to Rose, "Only think, YOUR Edouard to be OUR referee!"
Rose blushed and bent over her work; and wondered how Edouard woulddischarge so grave an office.
The matter approached a climax; for, as the reader is aware, Edouard washourly expected at Beaurepaire.
He did not come; but it was not his fault.
On receiving Rose's letter hedeclined to stay another hour at his uncle's.
He flung himself on his horse; and, before he was well settled on thestirrups, the animal shied violently at a wheelbarrow some fool had leftthere; and threw Edouard on the stones of the courtyard. He jumped up ina moment and laughed at Marthe's terror; meantime a farm-servant caughtthe nag and brought him back to his work.
But when Edouard went to put his hand on the saddle, he found it wouldnot obey him. "Wait a minute," said he; "my arm is benumbed."
"Let me see!" said the farmer, and examined the limb himself; "benumbed?yes; and no wonder. Jacques, get on the brute and ride for the surgeon."
"Are you mad, uncle?" cried Edouard. "I can't spare my horse, and I wantno surgeon; it will be well directly."
"It will be worse before it is better."
"I don't know what you mean, uncle; it is only numbed, ah! it hurts whenI rub it."
"It is worse than numbed, boy; it is broken."
"Broken? nonsense:" and he looked at it in piteous bewilderment: "howcan it be broken? it does not hurt except when I touch it."
"It WILL hurt: I know all about it. I broke mine fifteen years ago: felloff a haystack."
"Oh, how unfortunate I am!" cried Edouard, piteously. "But I will go toBeaurepaire all the same. I can have the thing mended there, as well ashere."
"You will go to bed," said the old man, quietly; "that is where YOU'LLgo."
"I'll go to blazes sooner," yelled the young one.
The old man made a signal to his myrmidons, whom Marthe's cries hadbrought around, and four stout fellows took hold of Edouard by the legsand the left shoulder and carried him up-stairs raging and kicking; anddeposited him on a bed.
Presently he began to feel faint, and so more reasonable. They cut hiscoat off, and put him in a loose wrapper, and after considerable delaythe surgeon came, and set his arm skilfully, and behold this ardentspirit caged. He chafed and fretted sadly. Fortitude was not his forte.
It was two days after his accident. He was lying on his back, environedby slops and cursing his evil fate, and fretting his soul out of itsfleshly prison, when suddenly he heard a cheerful trombone saying threewords to Marthe, then came a clink-clank, and Marthe ushered into thesickroom the Commandant Raynal. The sick man raised himself in bed, withgreat surprise and joy.
"O commandant! this is kind to come and see your poor officer inpurgatory."
"Ah," cried Raynal, "you see I know what it is. I have been chained downby the arm, and the leg, and all: it is deadly tiresome."
"Tiresome! it is--it is--oh, dear commandant, Heaven bless you forcoming!"
"Ta! ta! ta! I am come on my own business."
"All the better. I have nothing to do; that is what kills me. I'm eatingmy own heart."
"Cannibal! Well, my lad, since you are in that humor, cheer up, for Ibring you a job, and a tough one; it has puzzled me."
"What is it, commandant? What is it?"
"Well, do you know a house and a family called Beaurepaire?"
"Do I know Beaurepaire?"
And the pale youth turned very red; and stared with awe at this wizardof a commandant. He thought he was going to be called over the coals forfrequenting a disaffected family. "Well," said Raynal, "I have been andbought this Beaurepaire."
Edouard uttered a loud exclamation. "It was YOU bought it! she nevertold me that."
"Yes," said Raynal, "I am the culprit; and we have fixed on you to undomy work without hurting their pride too much, poor souls; but let usbegin with the facts."
Then Raynal told him my story after his fashion. Of course I shall notgo and print his version; you might like his concise way better than myverbose; and I'm not here to hold up any man's coat-tails. Short as hemade it, Edouard's eyes were moist more than once; and at the end hecaught Raynal's hand and kissed it. Then he asked time to reflect;"for," said he, "I must try and be just."
"I'll give you an hour," said Raynal, with an air of grand munificence.The only treasure he valued was time.
In less than an hour Edouard had solved the knot, to his entiresatisfaction; he even gave the commandant particular instructions forcarrying out his sovereign decree. Raynal received these orders fromhis subordinate with that simplicity which formed part of his amazingcharacter, and rode home relieved of all responsibility in the matter.
COMMANDANT RAYNAL TO MADEMOISELLE DE BEAUREPAIRE.
Mademoiselle,--Before I could find time to write to our referee, newscame in that he had just broken his arm;--
"Oh! oh, dear! our poor Edouard!"
And if poor Edouard had seen the pale faces, and heard the falteringaccents, it would have reconciled him to his broken arm almost. Thishand-grenade the commandant had dropped so coolly among them, it was along while ere they could recover from it enough to read the rest of theletter,--
So I rode over to him, and found him on his back, fretting for want ofsomething to do. I told him the whole story. He undertook the business.I have received his instructions, and next week shall be at his quartersto clear off his arrears of business, and make acquaintance with allyour family, if they permit.
RAYNAL.
As the latter part of this letter seemed to require a reply, thebaroness wrote a polite note, and Jacintha sent Dard to leave it for thecommandant at Riviere's lodgings. But first they all sat down and wrotekind and pitying and soothing letters to Edouard. Need I say theseletters fell upon him like balm?
They all inquired carelessly in their postscripts what he had decidedas their referee. He replied mysteriously that they would know that ina week or two. Meantime, all he thought it prudent to tell them was thathe had endeavored to be just to both parties.
"Little solemn puppy," said Rose, and was racked with curiosity.
Next week Raynal called on the baroness. She received him alone. Theytalked about Madame Raynal. The next day he dined with the whole party,and the commandant's manners were the opposite of what the baronesshad inculcated. But she had a strong prejudice in his favor. Had herfeelings been the other way his brusquerie would have shocked her. Itamused her. If people's hearts are with you, THAT for their heads!
He came every day for a week, chatted with the baroness, walked with theyoung ladies; and when after work he came over in the evening, Roseused to cross-examine him, and out came such descriptions of battles andsieges, such heroism and such simplicity mixed, as made the evening passdelightfully. On these occasions the young ladies fixed their glowingeyes on him, and drank in his character as well as his narrative, inwhich were fewer "I's" than in anything of the sort you ever read orheard.
At length Rose contrived to draw him aside, and, hiding her curiosityunder feigned nonchalance, asked him what the referee had decided. Hetold her that was a secret for the present.
"Well, but," said Rose, "not from me. Edouard and I have no secrets."
"Come, that's good," said Raynal. "Why, you are the very one he warnedme against the most; said you were as curious as Mother Eve, and assharp as her needle."
"Then he is a little scurrilous traitor," cried Rose, turning very red."So that is how he talks of me behind my back, and calls me an angel tomy face; I'll pay him for this. Do tell me, commandant; never mind whatHE says."
"What! disobey orders?"
"Orders? to you from that boy!"
"Oh!" said Raynal, "for that matter, we soldiers are used to command onemoment, and obey the next."
In a word, this military pedant was impracticable, and Rose gave him upin disgust, and began to call up a sulky look when the other two sanghis praises. For the old lady pronounced him charming, and Josephinesaid he was a man of crystal; never said a word he did not mean, andshe wished she was like him. But the baroness thought this was going alittle too far.
"No, thank you," said she hastily; "he is a man, a thorough man. Hewould make an intolerable woman. A fine life if one had a parcel ofwomen about, all blurting out their real minds every moment, and neversmoothing matters."
"M
amma, what a horrid picture!" chuckled Rose.
She then proposed that at his next visit they should all three make anearnest appeal to him to let them know what Edouard had decided.
But Josephine begged to be excused, feared it would be hardly delicate;and said languidly that for her part she felt they were in good hands,and prescribed patience. The baroness acquiesced, and poor Rose and hercuriosity were baffled on every side.
At last, one fine day, her torments were relieved without any furtherexertion on her part. Jacintha bounced into the drawing-room with anotice that the commandant wanted to speak to Josephine a minute out inthe Pleasaunce.
"How droll he is," said Rose; "fancy sending in for a young lady likethat. Don't go, Josephine; how, he would stare."
"My dear, I no more dare disobey him than if I was one of his soldiers."And she laid down her work, and rose quietly to do what she was bid.
"Well," said Rose, superciliously, "go to your commanding officer. And,O Josephine, if you are worth anything at all, do get out of him whatthat Edouard has settled."
Josephine kissed her, and promised to try. After the first salutation,there was a certain hesitation about Raynal which Josephine had neverseen a trace of in him before; so, to put him at his ease, and at thesame time keep her promise to Rose, she asked timidly if their mutualfriend had been able to suggest anything.
"What! don't you know that I have been acting all along upon hisinstructions?" answered Raynal.
"No, indeed! and you have not told us what he advised."
"Told you? why, of course not; they were secret instructions. Ihave obeyed one set, and now I come to the other; and there is thedifficulty, being a kind of warfare I know nothing about."
"It must be savage warfare, then," suggested the lady politely.
"Not a bit of it. Now, who would have thought I was such a coward?"
Josephine was mystified; however, she made a shrewd guess. "Do youfear a repulse from any one of us? Then, I suppose, you meditate someextravagant act of generosity."
"Not I."
"Of delicacy, then."
"Just the reverse. Confound the young dog! why is he not here to helpme?"
"But, after all," suggested Josephine, "you have only to carry out hisinstructions."
"That is true! that is true! but when a fellow is a coward, a poltroon,and all that sort of thing."
This repeated assertion of cowardice on the part of the living Damascusblade that stood bolt-upright before her, struck Josephine as so funnythat she laughed merrily, and bade him fancy it was only a fort hewas attacking instead of the terrible Josephine; whom none but heroesfeared, she assured him.
This encouragement, uttered in jest, was taken in earnest. The soldierthanked her, and rallied visibly at the comparison. "All right," saidhe, "as you say, it is only a fort--so--mademoiselle!"
"Monsieur!"
"Hum! will you lend me your hand for a moment?"
"My hand! what for? there," and she put it out an inch a minute. He tookit, and inspected it closely.
"A charming hand; the hand of a virtuous woman?"
"Yes," said Josephine as cool as a cucumber, too sublimely and absurdlyinnocent even to blush.
"Is it your own?"
"Sir!" She blushed at that, I can tell you.
"Because if it was, I would ask you to give it me. (I've fired the firstshot anyway.)"
Josephine whipped her hand off his palm, where it lay like cream spilton a trencher.
"Ah! I see; you are not free: you have a lover."
"No, no!" cried Josephine in distress; "I love nobody but my mother andsister: I never shall."
"Your mother," cried Raynal; "that reminds me; he told me to ask her;by Jove, I think he told me to ask her first;" and Raynal up with hisscabbard and was making off.
Josephine begged him to do nothing of the kind.
"I can save you the trouble," said she.
"Ah, but my instructions! my instructions!" cried the military pedant,and ran off into the house, and left Josephine "planted there," as theysay in France.
Raynal demanded a private interview of the baroness so significantlyand unceremoniously that Rose had no alternative but to retire, but notwithout a glance of defiance at the bear. She ran straight, without herbonnet, into the Pleasaunce to slake her curiosity at Josephine. Thatyoung lady was walking pensively, but turned at sight of Rose, and thesisters came together with a clash of tongues.
"O Rose! he has"--
"Oh!"
So nimbly does the female mind run on its little beaten tracks, that ittook no more than those syllables for even these innocent young women tocommunicate that Raynal had popped.
Josephine apologized for this weakness in a hero. "It wasn't his fault,"said she. "It is your Edouard who set him to do it."
"My Edouard? Don't talk in that horrid way: I have no Edouard. You said'no' of course."
"Something of the kind."
"What, did you not say 'no' plump?"
"I did not say it brutally, dear."
"Josephine, you frighten me. I know you can't say 'no' to any one; andif you don't say 'no' plump to such a man as this, you might as well say'yes.'"
"Well, love," said Josephine, "you know our mother will relieve me ofthis; what a comfort to have a mother!"
They waited for Raynal's departure, to go to the baroness. They hadto wait a long time. Moreover, when he did leave the chateau he camestraight into the Pleasaunce. At sight of him Rose seized Josephinetight and bade her hold her tongue, as she could not say "no" plumpto any one. Josephine was far from raising any objection to thearrangement.
"Monsieur," said Rose, before he could get a word out, "even if she hadnot declined, I could not consent."
Raynal tapped his forehead reflectively, and drew forth from memory thathe had no instructions whatever to ask HER consent.
She colored high, but returned to the charge.
"Is her own consent to be dispensed with too? She declined the honor,did she not?"
"Of course she did; but this was anticipated in my instructions. I am tobe sure and not take the first two or three refusals."
"O Josephine, look at that insolent boy: he has found you out."
"Insolent boy!" cried Raynal; "why, it is the referee of your ownchoosing, and as well behaved a lad as ever I saw, and a zealousofficer."
"My kind friends," put in Josephine with a sweet languor, "I cannot letyou quarrel about a straw."
"It is not about a straw," said Raynal, "it is about you."
"The distinction involves a compliment, sir," said Josephine; then sheturned to Rose, "Is it possible you do not see Monsieur Raynal's strangeproposal in its true light? and you so shrewd in general. He has nopersonal feeling whatever in this eccentric proceeding: he wants to makeus all happy, especially my mother, without seeming to lay us under toogreat an obligation. Surely good-nature was never carried so far before;ha, ha! Monsieur, I will encumber you with my friendship forever, if youpermit me, but farther than that I will not abuse your generosity."
"Now look here, mademoiselle," began Raynal bluntly, "I did start witha good motive at first, that there's no denying. But, since I have beenevery day in your company, and seen how good and kind you are to allabout you, I have turned selfish; and I say to myself, what a comfortsuch a wife as you would be to a soldier! Why, only to have you towrite letters home to, would be worth half a fellow's pay. Do you knowsometimes when I see the fellows writing their letters it gives me aknock here to think I have no one at all to write to."
Josephine sighed.
"So you see I am not so mighty disinterested. Now, mademoiselle, youspeak so charmingly, I can't tell what you mean: can't tell whetheryou say 'no' because you could never like me, or whether it is out ofdelicacy, and you only want pressing. So I say no more at present: it isa standing offer. Take a day to consider. Take two if you like. I mustgo to the barracks; good-day."
"Oh! this must be put an end to at once," said Rose.
&nb
sp; "With all my heart," replied Josephine; "but how?"
"Come to our mother, and settle that," said the impetuous sister, andnearly dragged the languid one into the drawing-room.
To their surprise they found the baroness walking up and down the roomwith unusual alacrity for a person of her years. She no sooner caughtsight of Josephine than she threw her arms open to her with joyfulvivacity, and kissed her warmly. "My love, you have saved us. I am ahappy old woman. If I had all France to pick from I could not have founda man so worthy of my Josephine. He is brave, he is handsome, he isyoung, he is a rising man, he is a good son, and good sons make goodhusbands--and--I shall die at Beaurepaire, shall I not, Madame theCommandante?"
Josephine held her mother round the neck, but never spoke. After asilence she held her tighter, and cried a little.
"What is it?" asked the baroness confidentially of Rose, but withoutshowing any very profound concern.
"Mamma! mamma! she does not love him."
"Love him? She would be no daughter of mine if she loved a man at sight.A modest woman loves her husband only."
"But she scarcely knows Monsieur Raynal."
"She knows more of him than I knew of your father when I married him.She knows his virtues and appreciates them. I have heard her, haveI not, love? Esteem soon ripens into love when they are once fairlymarried."
"Mother, does her silence then tell you nothing? Her tears--are theynothing to you?"
"Silly child! These are tears that do not scald. The sweet soul weepsbecause she now for the first time sees she will have to leave hermother. Alas! my eldest, it is inevitable. Mothers are not immortal.While they are here it is their duty to choose good husbands for theirdaughters. My youngest, I believe, has chosen for herself--like thenation. But for my eldest I choose. We shall see which chooses the best.Meantime we stay at Beaurepaire, thanks to my treasure here."
"Josephine! Josephine! you don't say one word," cried Rose in dismay.
"What CAN I say? I love my mother and I love you. You draw me differentways. I want you to be both happy."
"Then if you will not speak out I must. Mother, do not deceive yourself:it is duty alone that keeps her silent: this match is odious to her."
"Then we are ruined. Josephine, is this match odious to you?"
"Not exactly odious: but I am very, very indifferent."
"There!" cried Rose triumphantly.
"There!" cried the baroness in the same breath, triumphantly. "Sheesteems his character; but his person is indifferent to her: in otherwords, she is a modest girl, and my daughter; and let me tell you, Rose,that but for the misfortunes of our house, both my daughters would bemarried as I was, without knowing half as much of their husbands asJosephine knows of this brave, honest, generous, filial gentleman."
"Well, then, since she will not speak out, I will. Pity me: I love herso. If this stranger, whom she does not love, takes her away from us, hewill kill me. I shall die; oh!"
Josephine left her mother and went to console Rose.
The baroness lost her temper at this last stroke of opposition. "Nowthe truth comes out, Rose; this is selfishness. Do not deceiveYOURself--selfishness!"
"Mamma!"
"You are only waiting to leave me yourself. Yet your eldest sister,forsooth, must be kept here for you,--till then." She added more gently,"Let me advise you to retire to your own room, and examine your heartfairly. You will find there is a strong dash of egoism in all this."
"If I do"--
"You will retract your opposition."
"My heart won't let me; but I will despise myself, and be silent."
And the young lady, who had dried her eyes the moment she was accusedof selfishness, walked, head erect, from the room. Josephine cast adeprecating glance at her mother. "Yes, my angel!" said the latter, "Iwas harsh. But we are no longer of one mind, and I suppose never shallbe again."
"Oh, yes, we shall. Be patient! Mother--you shall not leaveBeaurepaire."
The baroness colored faintly at these four last words of her daughter,and hung her head.
Josephine saw that, and darted to her and covered her with kisses.
That day the doctor scolded them both. "You have put your mother intoa high fever," said he; "here's a pulse; I do wish you would be moreconsiderate."
The commandant did not come to dinner as usual. The evening passedheavily; their hearts were full of uncertainty.
"We miss our merry, spirited companion," said the baroness with a grimlook at Rose. Both young ladies assented with ludicrous eagerness.
That night Rose came and slept with Josephine, and more than once sheawoke with a start and seized Josephine convulsively and held her tight.
Accused of egoism! at first her whole nature rose in arms against thecharge: but, after a while, coming as it did from so revered a person,it forced her to serious self-examination. The poor girl said toherself, "Mamma is a shrewd woman. Am I after all deceiving myself?Would she be happy, and am I standing in the way?" In the morning shebegged her sister to walk with her in the park, so that they might besafe from interruption.
There, she said sadly, she could not understand her own sister. "Why areyou so calm and cold, while am I in tortures of anxiety? Have you madesome resolve and not confided it to your Rose?"
"No, love," was the reply; "I am scarce capable of a resolution; I am amere thing that drifts."
"Let me put it in other words, then. How will this end?"
"I hardly know."
"Do you mean to marry Monsieur Raynal, then? answer me that."
"No; but I should not wonder if he were to marry ME."
"But you said 'no.'"
"Yes, I said 'no' once."
"And don't you mean to say it again, and again, and again, till kingdomcome?"
"What is the use? you heard him say he would not desist any themore, and I care too little about the matter to go on persisting, andpersisting, and persisting."
"Why not, if he goes on pestering, and pestering, and pestering?"
"Ah, he is like you, all energy, at all hours; but I have so littlewhere my heart is unconcerned: he seems, too, to have a wish! I havenone either way, and my conscience says 'marry him!'"
"Your conscience say marry one man when you love another?"
"Heaven forbid! Rose, I love no one: I HAVE loved; but now my heart isdead and silent; only my conscience says, 'You are the cause of all yourmother's trouble; you are the cause that Beaurepaire was sold. Now youcan repair that mischief, and at the same time make a brave man happy,our benefactor happy.' It is a great temptation: I hardly know why Isaid 'no' at all; surprise, perhaps--or to please you, pretty one."
Rose groaned: "Are you then worth so little that you would throwyourself away on a man who does not love you, nor want you, and is quiteas happy single?"
"No; not happy; he is only stout-hearted and good, and thereforecontent; and he is a character that it would be easy--in short, I feelmy power here: I could make that man happy; he has nobody to write toeven, when he is away--poor fellow!"
"I shall lose all patience," cried Rose; "you are at your old trick,thinking of everybody but yourself: I let you do it in trifles, but Ilove you too well to permit it when the happiness of your whole life isat stake. I must be satisfied on one point, or else this marriage shallnever take place: just answer me this; if Camille Dujardin stood on oneside, and Monsieur Raynal on the other, and both asked your hand, whichwould you take?"
"That will never be. Whose? Not his whom I despise. Esteem might ripeninto love, but what must contempt end in?"
This reply gave Rose great satisfaction. To exhaust all awkwardcontingencies, she said, "One question more, and I have done. SupposeCamille should turn out--be not quite--what shall I say--inexcusable?"
At this unlucky gush, Josephine turned pale, then red, then pale again,and cried eagerly, "Then all the world should not part us. Why tortureme with such a question? Ah! you have heard something." And in a momentthe lava of passion burst wildly through its t
hin sheet of ice. "I wasblind. This is why you would save me from this unnatural marriage.You are breaking the good news to me by degrees. There is no need.Quick--quick--let me have it. I have waited three years; I am sick ofwaiting. Why don't you speak? Why don't you tell me? Then I will tellYOU. He is alive--he is well--he is coming. It was not he those soldierssaw; they were so far off. How could they tell? They saw a uniform butnot a face. Perhaps he has been a prisoner, and so could not write;could not come: but he is coming now. Why do you groan? why do you turnpale? ah! I see; I have once more deceived myself. I was mad. He I loveis still a traitor to France and me, and I am wretched forever. Oh! thatI were dead! oh! that I were dead! No; don't speak to me: never mind me;this madness will pass as it has before, and leave me a dead thingamong the living. Ah! sister, why did you wake me from my dream? I wasdrifting so calmly, so peacefully, so dead, and painless, drifting overthe dead sea of the heart towards the living waters of gratitude andduty. I was going to make more than one worthy soul happy; and seeingthem happy, I should have been content and useful--what am I now?--andcomforted other hearts, and died joyful--and young. For God is good; hereleases the meek and patient from their burdens."
With this came a flood of tears; and she leaned against a bough with herforehead on her arm, bowed like a wounded lily.
"Accursed be that man's name, and MY tongue if ever I utter it again inyour hearing!" cried Rose, weeping bitterly. "You are wiser than I, andevery way better. O my darling, dry your tears! Here he comes: look!riding across the park."
"Rose," cried Josephine, hastily, "I leave all to you. Receive MonsieurRaynal, and decline his offer if you think proper. It is you who love mebest. My mother would give me up for a house; for an estate, poor dear."
"I would not give you for all the world."
"I know it. I trust all to you."
"Well, but don't go; stay and hear what I shall say."
"Oh, no; that poor man is intolerable to me NOW. Let me avoid his sight,and think of his virtues."
Rose was left alone, mistress of her sister's fate. She put her headinto her hands and filled with anxiety and sudden doubt.
Like a good many more of us, she had been positive so long as thedecision did not rest with her. But with power comes responsibility,with responsibility comes doubt. Easy to be an advocate in re incerta;hard to be the judge. And she had but a few seconds to think in; forRaynal was at hand. The last thing in her mind before he joined her wasthe terrible power of that base Camille over her sister. She despairedof curing Josephine, but a husband might. There's such divinity dothhedge a husband in innocent girls' minds.
"Well, little lady," began Raynal, "and how are you, and how is mymother-in-law that is to be--or is not to be, as your sister pleases;and how is SHE? have I frightened her away? There were two petticoats,and now there is but one."
"She left me to answer you."
"All the worse for me: I am not to your taste."
"Do not say that," said Rose, almost hysterically.
"Oh! it is no sacrilege. Not one in fifty likes me."
"But I do like you, sir."
"Then why won't you let me have your sister?"
"I have not quite decided that you shall not have her," faltered poorRose. She murmured on, "I dare say you think me very unkind, veryselfish; but put yourself in my place. I love my sister as no man canever love her, I know: my heart has been one flesh and one soul withhers all my life. A stranger comes and takes her away from me as if shewas I don't know what; his portmanteau; takes her to Egypt, oh! oh! oh!"
Raynal comforted her.
"What, do you think I am such a brute as to take that delicate creatureabout fighting with me? why, the hot sand would choke her, to begin.No. You don't take my manoeuvre. I have no family; I try for a wife thatwill throw me in a mother and sister. You will live all together thesame as before, of course; only you must let me make one of you when Iam at home. And how often will that be? Besides, I am as likely tobe knocked on the head in Egypt as not; you are worrying yourself fornothing, little lady."
He uttered the last topic of consolation in a broad, hearty, hilarioustone, like a trombone impregnated with cheerful views of fate.
"Heaven forbid!" cried Rose: "and I will, for even I shall pray for younow. What you will leave her at home? forgive me for not seeing all yourworth: of course I knew you were an angel, but I had no idea you were aduck. You are just the man for my sister. She likes to obey: you are allfor commanding. So you see. Then she never thinks of herself; any otherman but you would impose on her good-nature; but you are too generousto do that. So you see. Then she esteems you so highly. And one whom Iesteem (between you and me) has chosen you for her."
"Then say yes, and have done with it," suggested the straightforwardsoldier.
"Why should I say 'no?' you will make one another happy some day: youare both so good. Any other man but you would tear her from me; but youare too just, too kind. Heaven will reward you. No! I will. I will giveyou Josephine: ah, my dear brother-in-law, it is the most precious thingI have to give in the world."
"Thank you, then. So that is settled. Hum! no, it is not quite; Iforgot; I have something for you to read; an anonymous letter. I got itthis morning; it says your sister has a lover."
The letter ran to this tune: a friend who had observed the commandant'sfrequent visits at Beaurepaire wrote to warn him against traps. Boththe young ladies of Beaurepaire were doubtless at the new proprietor'sservice to pick and choose from. But for all that each of them had alover, and though these lovers had their orders to keep out of the waytill monsieur should be hooked, he might be sure that if he marriedeither, the man of her heart would come on the scene soon after, perhapsbe present at the wedding.
In short, it was one of those poisoned arrows a coarse vindictive cowardcan shoot.
It was the first anonymous letter Rose had ever seen. It almost droveher mad on the spot. Raynal was sorry he had let her see it.
She turned red and white by turns, and gasped for breath.
"Why am I not a man?--why don't I wear a sword? I would pass it throughthis caitiff's heart. The cowardly slave!--the fiend! for who but afiend could slander an angel like my Josephine? Hooked? Oh! she willnever marry you if she sees this."
"Then don't let her see it: and why take it to heart like that? I don'ttrust to the word of a man who owns that his story is a thing he daresnot sign his name to; at all events, I shall not put his word againstyours. But it is best to understand one another in time. I am a plainman, but not a soft one. I should not be an easygoing husband like someI see about: I'd have no wasps round my honey; if my wife took a lover Iwould not lecture THE WOMAN--what is the use?--I'd kill THE MAN then andthere, in-doors or out, as I would kill a snake. If she took another,I'd send him after the first, and so on till one killed me."
"And serve the wretches right."
"Yes; but for my own sake I don't choose to marry a woman that loves anyother man. So tell me the plain truth; come."
Rose turned chill in her inside. "I have no lover," she stammered. "Ihave a young fool that comes and teases me: but it is no secret. He isaway, but why? he is on a sickbed, poor little fellow!"
"But your sister? She could not have a lover unknown to you."
"I defy her. No, sir; I have not seen her speak three words to any youngman except Monsieur Riviere this three years past."
"That is enough;" and he tore the letter quietly to atoms.
Then Rose saw she could afford a little more candor. "Understand me; Ican't speak of what happened when I was a child. But if ever she had agirlish attachment, he has not followed it up, or surely I should haveseen something of him all these years."
"Of course. Oh! as for flirtations, let them pass: a lovely girl doesnot grow up without one or two whispering some nonsense into her ear.Why, I myself should have flirted no doubt; but I never had the time.Bonaparte gives you time to eat and drink, but not to sleep orflirt, and that reminds me I have fifty miles to ride, so good-b
y,sister-in-law, eh?"
"Adieu, brother-in-law."
Left alone, Rose had some misgivings. She had equivocated with one whoseupright, candid nature ought to have protected him: but an enemy hadaccused Josephine; and it came so natural to shield her. "Did he reallythink I would expose my own sister?" said she to herself, angrily. Wasnot this anger secret self-discontent?
"Well, love," said Josephine, demurely, "have you dismissed him?"
"No."
Josephine smiled feebly. "It is easy to say 'say no;' but it is not soeasy to say 'no,' especially when you feel you ought to say 'yes,' andhave no wish either way except to give pleasure to others."
"But I am not such skim milk as all that," replied Rose: "I have alwaysa strong wish where you are concerned, and your happiness. I hesitatedwhilst I was in doubt, but I doubt no longer: I have had a long talkwith him. He has shown me his whole heart: he is the best, the noblestof creatures: he has no littleness or meanness. And then he is athorough man; I know that by his being the very opposite of a woman inhis ways. Now you are a thorough woman, and so you will suit one anotherto a T. I have decided: so no more doubts, love; no more tears; no moredisputes. We are all of one mind, and I do think I have secured yourhappiness. It will not come in a day, perhaps, but it will come. So thenin one little fortnight you marry Monsieur Raynal."
"What!" said Josephine, "you have actually settled that?"
"Yes."
"But are you sure I can make him as happy as he deserves?"
"Positive."
"I think so too; still"--
"It is settled, dear," said Rose soothingly.
"Oh, the comfort of that! you relieve me of a weight; you give me peace.I shall have duties; I shall do some good in the world. They were allfor it but you before, were they not?"
"Yes, and now I am strongest for it of them all. Josephine, it issettled."
Josephine looked at her for a moment in silence, then said eagerly,"Bless you, dear Rose; you have saved your sister;" then, after amoment, in a very different voice, "O Camille! Camille! why have youdeserted me?"
And with this she fell to sobbing terribly. Rose wept on her neck,but said nothing. She too was a woman, and felt that this was the lastdespairing cry of love giving up a hopeless struggle.
They sat twined together in silence till Jacintha came to tell them itwas close upon dinner-time; so then they hastened to dry their tears andwash their red eyes, for fear their mother should see what they had beenat, and worry herself.
"Well, mademoiselle, these two consent; but what do you say? for afterall, it is you I am courting, and not them. Have you the courage toventure on a rough soldier like me?"
This delicate question was put point-blank before the three ladies.
"Sir," replied Josephine timidly, "I will be as frank, asstraightforward as you are. I thank you for the honor you do me."
Raynal looked perplexed.
"And does that mean 'yes' or 'no'?"
"Which you please," said Josephine, hanging her sweet head.
The wedding was fixed for that day fortnight. The next morning wardrobeswere ransacked. The silk, muslin, and lace of their prosperous days werelooked out: grave discussions were held over each work of art. Rose wasactive, busy, fussy. The baroness threw in the weight of her judgmentand experience.
Josephine managed to smile whenever either Rose or the baroness lookedat all fixedly at her.
So glided the peaceful days. So Josephine drifted towards the haven ofwedlock.
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