CHAPTER VIII.
THE PAST OF FRANCOISE.
Simon followed his wife into the house. She closed the door behind her.Simon was struck by the strange expression in her face. Was it anxietyfor him that had clouded that placid brow?
"Friend," said Francoise, "you must know all. I saw that Austrianofficer from the window, and recognized him--"
"Recognized him!"
"Yes, for the man who dishonored my sister that fatal night of the 16thof May, 1804, at Sachemont, was not alone. He was accompanied by theCount of Karlstein, the man whom you have just seen. I cannot dwell uponthe terrors of that night. I escaped--but my poor sister! Nor did I everspeak of that man to you. I felt that Talizac was enough for us tohate."
"Yes, dear, I see; and I, too, have something to tell, for, when afterlong months in the hospital at Dresden, I was permitted to leave it, Iwandered, I know not where; but I reached a hut--it was in February,1805--I saw a light and knocked. There was no answer, and I opened thedoor and went in. To my horror, I beheld a woman dead, and heard aninfant screaming its heart out."
"Poor little Jacques!" said Francoise, weeping.
"I saw a cup of milk on the table; I gave some to the infant. Presentlyyou came in, and did not seem astonished to find the child in my arms.The physician you had gone to seek looked at the poor woman, said shewas dead, and that he could do nothing. We were left alone together. Itseemed as if you trusted me at once. Your hands trembled, and it was Iwho closed the eyes of the dead. The next day we followed the poor girlto the grave, and when one of the rough peasants who bore the bier onwhich she lay, asked you who I was, you answered simply, 'A friend!'
"After we returned to the hut, I asked you who the dead girl was, andthen you pronounced the name of Talizac, and heard that a gentleman ofFrance had conducted himself like a base coward--"
"But an honorable man said to me, 'Shall we repair the crime of another?Shall we not give this little one a home and a family?' I became yourwife, your happy, honored companion, and poor Jacques will never knowthat he owes his life to a base profligate."
Simon laid his hand on his wife's head.
"Do you know why Simon Fougere wished to make reparation for the crimeof the Vicomte de Talizac?"
"Because Simon Fougere had a loyal and generous heart!"
"Because," said Simon, in solemn tones, "because the Vicomte de Talizacis my brother!"
"Your brother! But who, then, are you?"
"The son of the Marquis de Fongereues," and in a few words Simonexplained to his wife the situation already known to our readers.
"I reproach myself," concluded Simon, "for having so long concealed myname from you. I have not seen my father since I was a boy. I amindebted to him for a few years of happiness, but he was under theinfluence of others who awakened in him the pride of race. He hasforgotten the Republican soldier, and has never cared to know whether Ilived or died, since the day that he offered me a princely fortune, rankand title, to fight against France. But to return to this man, you aresure he is the friend and accomplice of Talizac?"
"I am sure."
"I have never seen my brother, but I know him to be one of the bitterestenemies France has. He has fought against us, and I have heard that heis nearly ruined. Painful as such suspicions are, I am tempted tobelieve that the appearance of this Karlstein in this out of the wayplace, is due to the fact that this renegade brother of mine has huntedme up, knowing that at my father's death I can claim my inheritance. Ifeel as if we were the cause of this attack on Leigoutte, which isreally directed on the heir of the Fongereueses."
"Horrible!" murmured Francoise.
"Yes, this officer asked me if this inn belonged to me. Dear wife, it isnow doubly our duty to take every measure for the protection of thesepeople. You must take the children away. I must remain with thesepeasants. I wish you to go to the farm of old Father Lasvene--"
"Yes, I know, a league away, in the Outremont gorge."
"I will take you there. Lasvene is a man of sense, and will not beguilty of any imprudence."
Suddenly Francinette, who was looking out of a window, uttered a shrillcry, and ran to her mother.
"What is it?" exclaimed Simon, rushing to the window, which he threwopen, but could see nothing.
Francoise soothed the little girl and questioned her.
The child, still wild with fear, pointed to the window. "A man! a badman!"
The father lifted her in his arms.
"No, no," he said, "little Francinette was dreaming. There was no onethere!"
"Yes, I saw him; he climbed over the wall!"
Simon took his gun and went out. Presently he returned, and with a looktowards his wife that contradicted his words, he said, "No, it isnothing."
At the same time he wrote a few words on a bit of paper, and laid it onthe table near his wife. This is what she read:
"The child is right; there are footprints on the wall--a spyundoubtedly." He said aloud: "And now, wife, make haste; there is notime to lose. Francinette, go to the other window and see if yourbrother is anywhere about. And Francoise," Simon continued rapidly, "Ido not think that our separation will last long, yet it is well to beprepared for everything. All my secret and family papers are in thisportfolio. Take every care of it. And now, kiss me--let no one see youweep!"
Michel and Jacques now entered.
"Well, Michel, what think you of our recruits?" asked Simon, cheerfully.
"Oh, they are born soldiers, and your boy Jacques is as bright as abutton!"
Simon drew his child toward him.
"My boy, I meant to take your mother and sister to some place of safety,but I am needed here. You must go in my stead."
"Am I not to remain with you, father?" asked the boy, greatlydisappointed.
"No--you are to take care of all that is most precious to me in theworld. God bless you all!"
The Son of Monte-Cristo Page 10