The Son of Monte-Cristo
Page 51
CHAPTER XLIX.
HOW AND WHERE.
As the reporter had discovered, Jane Zeld occupied an apartment on thefirst floor of a small hotel, or rather, in one of those boarding-housesfrequented by respectable people who come from the four quarters of theglobe to enjoy the attractions of Paris. It was a most respectableestablishment, with its iron gate _a l'Anglaise_, its well scrubbedsteps, its parlor on the _rez de chaussee_, and its three floors aboveall occupied.
The lady who managed this enterprise was the widow of a captain. Shewore English curls, spoke a few words in various languages, and had amarvelous ability for making out long bills. Her prices were high, veryhigh, but the situation of her house was at once elegant and retired. Itwas a wonder that these items were not entered on the bill. She hadnever admitted any artists into her sanctuary until the intendantMaslenes one day offered her five hundred francs for an apartment whichshe usually rented for three, and no single women. Now Jane Zeld seemedto be a single woman, but Madame closed her eyes to this, and now thatshe divined a star in the future, Madame Vollard redoubled her courtesyto her lodger. She felt that she was a mine of wealth in the future.That night Madame Vollard had insisted on dressing Jane herself, andshe had excellent taste. She spent a number of hours dwelling on theundoubted success of "the dear child," and it was two o'clock when sheheard the carriage. She ran down the stairs, and when she saw Jane andher remarkable costume, she raised her hands in astonishment.
"You have had a pleasant time, I trust!" she exclaimed.
Maslenes gently pushed her back.
"Excuse me, Madame, but the young lady is fatigued, and somewhat ill, Ifear."
"Ill! What can I do for her? I have camphor, lavender water--what shallI get?"
Maslenes led Jane hastily to her room, saying as he did so:
"No, no, it is nothing. To-morrow will do. She only needs rest now."
Jane sank into a chair on reaching her salon.
Maslenes closed the door, and stood motionless and silent until sheshould see fit to speak.
How old was this man? Sixty probably, and yet his face was unwrinkledalthough his hair was perfectly white. His eyes were gray. He inspiredat first sight a certain repulsion. There were indications of vices, butthey were of vices that had burned themselves out, of passions that hadcrumbled to ashes. Now, as he stood with his arms folded on his breast,his face expressed something more than the interest of a servant in hismistress. In his faded eyes there was great compassion. His pale lipstrembled. Jane did not speak. He said gently:
"You are suffering?"
She started as if from sleep.
"No," she replied, "no. I did not know." Then she looked up. "Ah!" shesaid, "why did you drag me among these people? I will never go anywhereagain. No, never!"
The man bit his lips. "And yet," he said, "you were received like aqueen!"
"Why do you say that?" she asked, in a tone of great irritation. "Why doyou try to awaken in me thoughts which should never be mine? A queen!I!"
"But your talent--your voice?"
"What of them? Ah! leave me. I wish to be alone!"
She spoke with some harshness.
He answered sadly enough.
"I am always willing to obey you, Jane. Do not speak in that tone."
"Yes, I know that. Forgive me if I am cruel. Alas! You know what agony Ihide within my breast." She rose to her feet as she spoke. "Why," shecried, "why did not that fire burn me to death? I should have sufferedless than from this flame which devours my heart!"
She leaned her head against the wall, and burst into passionate weeping.
Maslenes, too, had tears in his eyes. It was plain that he cherished amysterious affection for this beautiful woman, who was tortured by somesecret sorrow.
"Jane,--Miss Jane," he corrected himself quickly. "I have never seenyou like this before. Some one must have insulted you!"
His eyes flashed as he said this.
"No," murmured Jane. "No, nothing of the kind."
"Then you are over-excited by this accident. Pray, try and controlyourself. I know that there are sad thoughts, which you cannot drivefrom your mind, but you are young; you have the future before you, youwill forget the past. You must!"
Jane dried her tears with her lace handkerchief, and her face becamesuddenly calm.
"Yes, I will forget," she replied, firmly. "You are right, I must do so.Forgive me!"
She extended her hand.
He hesitated and, drawing back, replied:
"We will talk together to-morrow. You know that you may rely on me."
"Yes, and I am very weary."
The intendant left the room. When outside the room, he caught at therailing, and with almost a sob, exclaimed: "How miserable I am!"
"Well!" asked Madame, from the foot of the stairs, "is the poor childany better?"
"Yes, thank you. There was an accident; her dress took fire."
"What a pity! A new dress, too. But I can offer her another in itsplace--one that has just come into my hands."
"You can talk with her about it to-morrow. At present I am worn out."
He hurried to his room, which was in the attic under the eaves,furnished with the most excessive simplicity: an iron bedstead, a table,and one chair. A trunk with a large lock upon it was also in the room.
Maslenes locked the door, and then dropped on the one chair the placecontained. He sat for some minutes buried in thought.
"What am I to do? What am I to do?"
Then he rose, and opened the trunk of which we have spoken, with a keythat he took from his pocket. He took out a bag, and a portfolio. Hetried the weight of the bag and shrugged his shoulders. He then loosenedthe cord that held the bag together, and produced ten louis, at which helooked sadly. The portfolio contained three bank notes of one hundredfrancs each.
"And in two days I have five hundred francs to pay, and afterward whatis to become of us?"
Then a long silence broken by the words once more, "Oh! how miserable Iam!" He paced his room like a prisoner in his cell.
"What am I to do? I am afraid to try anything. I might, to be sure, earna crust of bread for myself, but what is to become of her? Poor Jane!and yet I would give my very life to spare her one pang. If she pleasedshe might, with her talent, be as rich as a queen, but she cannot forgetthe past, and that is my work!"
He counted the louis over and over again. Suddenly he started. It seemedto him that he heard a sound without; he threw the bag and theportfolio into the trunk and locked it, then rushed to the door. Onopening it there was no one to be seen.
"Is there any one here?" he asked.
There was no reply.
"I was mistaken, of course."
He returned to his room and there found that the sounds were repeated,and came from the window. He went to it, and looking out saw theoutlines of a human being. No robber would have attracted attentionthus. Nevertheless Maslenes took down a revolver before he opened thewindow.
"Who is there?" he asked.
"Some one who wishes to speak to you!" And with these words the personjumped into the room.
Maslenes raised his revolver, but at this moment the light fell on theface of the unknown. He uttered a cry of horror.
"You here! Ah! leave me, leave me at once, or I swear that I will blowout your brains."
"No, sir, you will do nothing of the kind. It would be very inconvenientfor you to find yourself with a dead body to get rid of. You would beobliged to give your name, and you certainly don't care for the policeto put their nose into your affairs."
And as the intendant did not reply, the new comer continued:
"That is right! You are becoming reasonable, I see. It is really drollthat we should meet again after all these years in this way!"
He seated himself, and drawing out a cigar, lighted it at the candle.
"Now listen to me," said Maslenes. "Why are you here? Go your way, andlet me go mine. I am doing my best to repair the evil that I havecommitted in my
life. I do not interfere with you, and I only ask thatyou shall leave me alone. You call yourself Fagiano, and my name isMaslenes. Now, go."
The other sneered:
"You have become very haughty, convict Sanselme."
Sanselme, for he it was, uttered an angry exclamation:
"And you, Benedetto, are still the same scoundrel that you were!"