54 CAPTIVITY: THE THIRD DAY
Felton had fallen; but there was still another step to be taken. He mustbe retained, or rather he must be left quite alone; and Milady butobscurely perceived the means which could lead to this result.
Still more must be done. He must be made to speak, in order that hemight be spoken to--for Milady very well knew that her greatestseduction was in her voice, which so skillfully ran over the whole gamutof tones from human speech to language celestial.
Yet in spite of all this seduction Milady might fail--for Felton wasforewarned, and that against the least chance. From that moment shewatched all his actions, all his words, from the simplest glance of hiseyes to his gestures--even to a breath that could be interpreted as asigh. In short, she studied everything, as a skillful comedian does towhom a new part has been assigned in a line to which he is notaccustomed.
Face to face with Lord de Winter her plan of conduct was more easy. Shehad laid that down the preceding evening. To remain silent and dignifiedin his presence; from time to time to irritate him by affected disdain,by a contemptuous word; to provoke him to threats and violence whichwould produce a contrast with her own resignation--such was her plan.Felton would see all; perhaps he would say nothing, but he would see.
In the morning, Felton came as usual; but Milady allowed him to presideover all the preparations for breakfast without addressing a word tohim. At the moment when he was about to retire, she was cheered with aray of hope, for she thought he was about to speak; but his lips movedwithout any sound leaving his mouth, and making a powerful effort tocontrol himself, he sent back to his heart the words that were about toescape from his lips, and went out. Toward midday, Lord de Winterentered.
It was a tolerably fine winter's day, and a ray of that pale English sunwhich lights but does not warm came through the bars of her prison.
Milady was looking out at the window, and pretended not to hear the dooras it opened.
"Ah, ah!" said Lord de Winter, "after having played comedy, after havingplayed tragedy, we are now playing melancholy?"
The prisoner made no reply.
"Yes, yes," continued Lord de Winter, "I understand. You would like verywell to be at liberty on that beach! You would like very well to be in agood ship dancing upon the waves of that emerald-green sea; you wouldlike very well, either on land or on the ocean, to lay for me one ofthose nice little ambuscades you are so skillful in planning. Patience,patience! In four days' time the shore will be beneath your feet, thesea will be open to you--more open than will perhaps be agreeable toyou, for in four days England will be relieved of you."
Milady folded her hands, and raising her fine eyes toward heaven, "Lord,Lord," said she, with an angelic meekness of gesture and tone, "pardonthis man, as I myself pardon him."
"Yes, pray, accursed woman!" cried the baron; "your prayer is so muchthe more generous from your being, I swear to you, in the power of a manwho will never pardon you!" and he went out.
At the moment he went out a piercing glance darted through the openingof the nearly closed door, and she perceived Felton, who drew quickly toone side to prevent being seen by her.
Then she threw herself upon her knees, and began to pray.
"My God, my God!" said she, "thou knowest in what holy cause I suffer;give me, then, strength to suffer."
The door opened gently; the beautiful supplicant pretended not to hearthe noise, and in a voice broken by tears, she continued:
"God of vengeance! God of goodness! wilt thou allow the frightfulprojects of this man to be accomplished?"
Then only she pretended to hear the sound of Felton's steps, and risingquick as thought, she blushed, as if ashamed of being surprised on herknees.
"I do not like to disturb those who pray, madame," said Felton,seriously; "do not disturb yourself on my account, I beseech you."
"How do you know I was praying, sir?" said Milady, in a voice broken bysobs. "You were deceived, sir; I was not praying."
"Do you think, then, madame," replied Felton, in the same serious voice,but with a milder tone, "do you think I assume the right of preventing acreature from prostrating herself before her Creator? God forbid!Besides, repentance becomes the guilty; whatever crimes they may havecommitted, for me the guilty are sacred at the feet of God!"
"Guilty? I?" said Milady, with a smile which might have disarmed theangel of the last judgment. "Guilty? Oh, my God, thou knowest whether Iam guilty! Say I am condemned, sir, if you please; but you know thatGod, who loves martyrs, sometimes permits the innocent to be condemned."
"Were you condemned, were you innocent, were you a martyr," repliedFelton, "the greater would be the necessity for prayer; and I myselfwould aid you with my prayers."
"Oh, you are a just man!" cried Milady, throwing herself at his feet. "Ican hold out no longer, for I fear I shall be wanting in strength at themoment when I shall be forced to undergo the struggle, and confess myfaith. Listen, then, to the supplication of a despairing woman. You areabused, sir; but that is not the question. I only ask you one favor; andif you grant it me, I will bless you in this world and in the next."
"Speak to the master, madame," said Felton; "happily I am neithercharged with the power of pardoning nor punishing. It is upon one higherplaced than I am that God has laid this responsibility."
"To you--no, to you alone! Listen to me, rather than add to mydestruction, rather than add to my ignominy!"
"If you have merited this shame, madame, if you have incurred thisignominy, you must submit to it as an offering to God."
"What do you say? Oh, you do not understand me! When I speak ofignominy, you think I speak of some chastisement, of imprisonment ordeath. Would to heaven! Of what consequence to me is imprisonment ordeath?"
"It is I who no longer understand you, madame," said Felton.
"Or, rather, who pretend not to understand me, sir!" replied theprisoner, with a smile of incredulity.
"No, madame, on the honor of a soldier, on the faith of a Christian."
"What, you are ignorant of Lord de Winter's designs upon me?"
"I am."
"Impossible; you are his confidant!"
"I never lie, madame."
"Oh, he conceals them too little for you not to divine them."
"I seek to divine nothing, madame; I wait till I am confided in, andapart from that which Lord de Winter has said to me before you, he hasconfided nothing to me."
"Why, then," cried Milady, with an incredible tone of truthfulness, "youare not his accomplice; you do not know that he destines me to adisgrace which all the punishments of the world cannot equal in horror?"
"You are deceived, madame," said Felton, blushing; "Lord de Winter isnot capable of such a crime."
"Good," said Milady to herself; "without thinking what it is, he callsit a crime!" Then aloud, "The friend of THAT WRETCH is capable ofeverything."
"Whom do you call 'that wretch'?" asked Felton.
"Are there, then, in England two men to whom such an epithet can beapplied?"
"You mean George Villiers?" asked Felton, whose looks became excited.
"Whom Pagans and unbelieving Gentiles call Duke of Buckingham," repliedMilady. "I could not have thought that there was an Englishman in allEngland who would have required so long an explanation to make himunderstand of whom I was speaking."
"The hand of the Lord is stretched over him," said Felton; "he will notescape the chastisement he deserves."
Felton only expressed, with regard to the duke, the feeling ofexecration which all the English had declared toward him whom theCatholics themselves called the extortioner, the pillager, thedebauchee, and whom the Puritans styled simply Satan.
"Oh, my God, my God!" cried Milady; "when I supplicate thee to pour uponthis man the chastisement which is his due, thou knowest it is not myown vengeance I pursue, but the deliverance of a whole nation that Iimplore!"
"Do you know him, then?" asked Felton.
"At length he interrogates me!" said Mil
ady to herself, at the height ofjoy at having obtained so quickly such a great result. "Oh, know him?Yes, yes! to my misfortune, to my eternal misfortune!" and Miladytwisted her arms as if in a paroxysm of grief.
Felton no doubt felt within himself that his strength was abandoninghim, and he made several steps toward the door; but the prisoner, whoseeye never left him, sprang in pursuit of him and stopped him.
"Sir," cried she, "be kind, be clement, listen to my prayer! That knife,which the fatal prudence of the baron deprived me of, because he knowsthe use I would make of it! Oh, hear me to the end! that knife, give itto me for a minute only, for mercy's, for pity's sake! I will embraceyour knees! You shall shut the door that you may be certain Icontemplate no injury to you! My God! to you--the only just, good, andcompassionate being I have met with! To you--my preserver, perhaps! Oneminute that knife, one minute, a single minute, and I will restore it toyou through the grating of the door. Only one minute, Mr. Felton, andyou will have saved my honor!"
"To kill yourself?" cried Felton, with terror, forgetting to withdrawhis hands from the hands of the prisoner, "to kill yourself?"
"I have told, sir," murmured Milady, lowering her voice, and allowingherself to sink overpowered to the ground; "I have told my secret! Heknows all! My God, I am lost!"
Felton remained standing, motionless and undecided.
"He still doubts," thought Milady; "I have not been earnest enough."
Someone was heard in the corridor; Milady recognized the step of Lord deWinter.
Felton recognized it also, and made a step toward the door.
Milady sprang toward him. "Oh, not a word," said she in a concentratedvoice, "not a word of all that I have said to you to this man, or I amlost, and it would be you--you--"
Then as the steps drew near, she became silent for fear of being heard,applying, with a gesture of infinite terror, her beautiful hand toFelton's mouth.
Felton gently repulsed Milady, and she sank into a chair.
Lord de Winter passed before the door without stopping, and they heardthe noise of his footsteps soon die away.
Felton, as pale as death, remained some instants with his ear bent andlistening; then, when the sound was quite extinct, he breathed like aman awaking from a dream, and rushed out of the apartment.
"Ah!" said Milady, listening in her turn to the noise of Felton's steps,which withdrew in a direction opposite to those of Lord de Winter; "atlength you are mine!"
Then her brow darkened. "If he tells the baron," said she, "I amlost--for the baron, who knows very well that I shall not kill myself,will place me before him with a knife in my hand, and he will discoverthat all this despair is but acted."
She placed herself before the glass, and regarded herself attentively;never had she appeared more beautiful.
"Oh, yes," said she, smiling, "but we won't tell him!"
In the evening Lord de Winter accompanied the supper.
"Sir," said Milady, "is your presence an indispensable accessory of mycaptivity? Could you not spare me the increase of torture which yourvisits cause me?"
"How, dear sister!" said Lord de Winter. "Did not you sentimentallyinform me with that pretty mouth of yours, so cruel to me today, thatyou came to England solely for the pleasure of seeing me at your ease,an enjoyment of which you told me you so sensibly felt the deprivationthat you had risked everything for it--seasickness, tempest, captivity?Well, here I am; be satisfied. Besides, this time, my visit has amotive."
Milady trembled; she thought Felton had told all. Perhaps never in herlife had this woman, who had experienced so many opposite and powerfulemotions, felt her heart beat so violently.
She was seated. Lord de Winter took a chair, drew it toward her, and satdown close beside her. Then taking a paper out of his pocket, heunfolded it slowly.
"Here," said he, "I want to show you the kind of passport which I havedrawn up, and which will serve you henceforward as the rule of order inthe life I consent to leave you."
Then turning his eyes from Milady to the paper, he read: "'Order toconduct--' The name is blank," interrupted Lord de Winter. "If you haveany preference you can point it out to me; and if it be not within athousand leagues of London, attention will be paid to your wishes. Iwill begin again, then:
"'Order to conduct to--the person named Charlotte Backson, branded bythe justice of the kingdom of France, but liberated after chastisement.She is to dwell in this place without ever going more than three leaguesfrom it. In case of any attempt to escape, the penalty of death is to beapplied. She will receive five shillings per day for lodging and food'".
"That order does not concern me," replied Milady, coldly, "since itbears another name than mine."
"A name? Have you a name, then?"
"I bear that of your brother."
"Ay, but you are mistaken. My brother is only your second husband; andyour first is still living. Tell me his name, and I will put it in theplace of the name of Charlotte Backson. No? You will not? You aresilent? Well, then you must be registered as Charlotte Backson."
Milady remained silent; only this time it was no longer fromaffectation, but from terror. She believed the order ready forexecution. She thought that Lord de Winter had hastened her departure;she thought she was condemned to set off that very evening. Everythingin her mind was lost for an instant; when all at once she perceived thatno signature was attached to the order. The joy she felt at thisdiscovery was so great she could not conceal it.
"Yes, yes," said Lord de Winter, who perceived what was passing in hermind; "yes, you look for the signature, and you say to yourself: 'All isnot lost, for that order is not signed. It is only shown to me toterrify me, that's all.' You are mistaken. Tomorrow this order will besent to the Duke of Buckingham. The day after tomorrow it will returnsigned by his hand and marked with his seal; and four-and-twenty hoursafterward I will answer for its being carried into execution. Adieu,madame. That is all I had to say to you."
"And I reply to you, sir, that this abuse of power, this exile under afictitious name, are infamous!"
"Would you like better to be hanged in your true name, Milady? You knowthat the English laws are inexorable on the abuse of marriage. Speakfreely. Although my name, or rather that of my brother, would be mixedup with the affair, I will risk the scandal of a public trial to makemyself certain of getting rid of you."
Milady made no reply, but became as pale as a corpse.
"Oh, I see you prefer peregrination. That's well madame; and there is anold proverb that says, 'Traveling trains youth.' My faith! you are notwrong after all, and life is sweet. That's the reason why I take suchcare you shall not deprive me of mine. There only remains, then, thequestion of the five shillings to be settled. You think me ratherparsimonious, don't you? That's because I don't care to leave you themeans of corrupting your jailers. Besides, you will always have yourcharms left to seduce them with. Employ them, if your check with regardto Felton has not disgusted you with attempts of that kind."
"Felton has not told him," said Milady to herself. "Nothing is lost,then."
"And now, madame, till I see you again! Tomorrow I will come andannounce to you the departure of my messenger."
Lord de Winter rose, saluted her ironically, and went out.
Milady breathed again. She had still four days before her. Four dayswould quite suffice to complete the seduction of Felton.
A terrible idea, however, rushed into her mind. She thought that Lord deWinter would perhaps send Felton himself to get the order signed by theDuke of Buckingham. In that case Felton would escape her--for in orderto secure success, the magic of a continuous seduction was necessary.Nevertheless, as we have said, one circumstance reassured her. Feltonhad not spoken.
As she would not appear to be agitated by the threats of Lord de Winter,she placed herself at the table and ate.
Then, as she had done the evening before, she fell on her knees andrepeated her prayers aloud. As on the evening before, the soldierstopped his march to listen to h
er.
Soon after she heard lighter steps than those of the sentinel, whichcame from the end of the corridor and stopped before her door.
"It is he," said she. And she began the same religious chant which hadso strongly excited Felton the evening before.
But although her voice--sweet, full, and sonorous--vibrated asharmoniously and as affectingly as ever, the door remained shut. Itappeared however to Milady that in one of the furtive glances she dartedfrom time to time at the grating of the door she thought she saw theardent eyes of the young man through the narrow opening. But whetherthis was reality or vision, he had this time sufficient self-command notto enter.
However, a few instants after she had finished her religious song,Milady thought she heard a profound sigh. Then the same steps she hadheard approach slowly withdrew, as if with regret.
Les trois mousquetaires. English Page 55