Chapter 65. A Conjugal Scene
At the Place Louis XV. the three young people separated—that is to say,Morrel went to the Boulevards, Château-Renaud to the Pont de laRévolution, and Debray to the Quai. Most probably Morrel and Château-Renaud returned to their “domestic hearths,” as they say in the galleryof the Chamber in well-turned speeches, and in the theatre of the RueRichelieu in well-written pieces; but it was not the case with Debray.When he reached the wicket of the Louvre, he turned to the left,galloped across the Carrousel, passed through the Rue Saint-Roch, and,issuing from the Rue de la Michodière, he arrived at M. Danglars’ doorjust at the same time that Villefort’s landau, after having depositedhim and his wife at the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, stopped to leave thebaroness at her own house.
Debray, with the air of a man familiar with the house, entered firstinto the court, threw his bridle into the hands of a footman, andreturned to the door to receive Madame Danglars, to whom he offered hisarm, to conduct her to her apartments. The gate once closed, and Debrayand the baroness alone in the court, he asked:
“What was the matter with you, Hermine? and why were you so affected atthat story, or rather fable, which the count related?”
“Because I have been in such shocking spirits all the evening, myfriend,” said the baroness.
“No, Hermine,” replied Debray; “you cannot make me believe that; on thecontrary, you were in excellent spirits when you arrived at the count’s.M. Danglars was disagreeable, certainly, but I know how much you carefor his ill-humor. Someone has vexed you; I will allow no one to annoyyou.”
“You are deceived, Lucien, I assure you,” replied Madame Danglars; “andwhat I have told you is really the case, added to the ill-humor youremarked, but which I did not think it worth while to allude to.”
It was evident that Madame Danglars was suffering from that nervousirritability which women frequently cannot account for even tothemselves; or that, as Debray had guessed, she had experienced somesecret agitation that she would not acknowledge to anyone. Being a manwho knew that the former of these symptoms was one of the inherentpenalties of womanhood, he did not then press his inquiries, but waitedfor a more appropriate opportunity when he should again interrogate her,or receive an avowal proprio motu.
At the door of her apartment the baroness met Mademoiselle Cornélie, herconfidential maid.
“What is my daughter doing?” asked Madame Danglars.
“She practiced all the evening, and then went to bed,” repliedMademoiselle Cornélie.
“Yet I think I hear her piano.”
“It is Mademoiselle Louise d’Armilly, who is playing while MademoiselleDanglars is in bed.”
“Well,” said Madame Danglars, “come and undress me.”
They entered the bedroom. Debray stretched himself upon a large couch,and Madame Danglars passed into her dressing-room with MademoiselleCornélie.
“My dear M. Lucien,” said Madame Danglars through the door, “you arealways complaining that Eugénie will not address a word to you.”
“Madame,” said Lucien, playing with a little dog, who, recognizing himas a friend of the house, expected to be caressed, “I am not the onlyone who makes similar complaints, I think I heard Morcerf say that hecould not extract a word from his betrothed.”
“True,” said Madame Danglars; “yet I think this will all pass off, andthat you will one day see her enter your study.”
“My study?”
“At least that of the minister.”
“Why so!”
“To ask for an engagement at the Opera. Really, I never saw such aninfatuation for music; it is quite ridiculous for a young lady offashion.”
Debray smiled. “Well,” said he, “let her come, with your consent andthat of the baron, and we will try and give her an engagement, though weare very poor to pay such talent as hers.”
“Go, Cornélie,” said Madame Danglars, “I do not require you any longer.”
Cornélie obeyed, and the next minute Madame Danglars left her room in acharming loose dress, and came and sat down close to Debray. Then shebegan thoughtfully to caress the little spaniel. Lucien looked at herfor a moment in silence.
“Come, Hermine,” he said, after a short time, “answercandidly,—something vexes you—is it not so?”
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“Nothing,” answered the baroness.
And yet, as she could scarcely breathe, she rose and went towards alooking-glass. “I am frightful tonight,” she said. Debray rose, smiling,and was about to contradict the baroness upon this latter point, whenthe door opened suddenly. M. Danglars appeared; Debray reseated himself.At the noise of the door Madame Danglars turned round, and looked uponher husband with an astonishment she took no trouble to conceal.
“Good-evening, madame,” said the banker; “good-evening, M. Debray.”
Probably the baroness thought this unexpected visit signified a desireto make up for the sharp words he had uttered during the day. Assuming adignified air, she turned round to Debray, without answering herhusband.
“Read me something, M. Debray,” she said. Debray, who was slightlydisturbed at this visit, recovered himself when he saw the calmness ofthe baroness, and took up a book marked by a mother-of-pearl knifeinlaid with gold.
“Excuse me,” said the banker, “but you will tire yourself, baroness, bysuch late hours, and M. Debray lives some distance from here.”
Debray was petrified, not only to hear Danglars speak so calmly andpolitely, but because it was apparent that beneath outward politenessthere really lurked a determined spirit of opposition to anything hiswife might wish to do. The baroness was also surprised, and showed herastonishment by a look which would doubtless have had some effect uponher husband if he had not been intently occupied with the paper, wherehe was looking to see the closing stock quotations. The result was, thatthe proud look entirely failed of its purpose.
“M. Lucien,” said the baroness, “I assure you I have no desire to sleep,and that I have a thousand things to tell you this evening, which youmust listen to, even though you slept while hearing me.”
“I am at your service, madame,” replied Lucien coldly.
“My dear M. Debray,” said the banker, “do not kill yourself tonightlistening to the follies of Madame Danglars, for you can hear them aswell tomorrow; but I claim tonight and will devote it, if you will allowme, to talk over some serious matters with my wife.”
This time the blow was so well aimed, and hit so directly, that Lucienand the baroness were staggered, and they interrogated each other withtheir eyes, as if to seek help against this aggression, but theirresistible will of the master of the house prevailed, and the husbandwas victorious.
“Do not think I wish to turn you out, my dear Debray,” continuedDanglars; “oh, no, not at all. An unexpected occurrence forces me to askmy wife to have a little conversation with me; it is so rarely I makesuch a request, I am sure you cannot grudge it to me.”
Debray muttered something, bowed and went out, knocking himself againstthe edge of the door, like Nathan in Athalie.
“It is extraordinary,” he said, when the door was closed behind him,“how easily these husbands, whom we ridicule, gain an advantage overus.”
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Lucien having left, Danglars took his place on the sofa, closed the openbook, and placing himself in a dreadfully dictatorial attitude, he beganplaying with the dog; but the animal, not liking him as well as Debray,and attempting to bite him, Danglars seized him by the skin of his neckand threw him upon a couch on the other side of the room. The animaluttered a cry during the transit, but, arrived at its destination, itcrouched behind the cushions, and stupefied at such unusual treatmentremained silent and motionless.
“Do you know, sir,” asked the baroness, “that you are improving?Generally you are only rude, but tonight you are brutal.”
“It is because I am in a worse humor than usual,” replied Danglars.Hermine looked at the banker with supreme disdain. These glanc
esfrequently exasperated the pride of Danglars, but this evening he tookno notice of them.
“And what have I to do with your ill-humor?” said the baroness,irritated at the impassibility of her husband; “do these things concernme? Keep your ill-humor at home in your money boxes, or, since you haveclerks whom you pay, vent it upon them.”
“Not so,” replied Danglars; “your advice is wrong, so I shall not followit. My money boxes are my Pactolus, as, I think, M. Demoustier says, andI will not retard its course, or disturb its calm. My clerks are honestmen, who earn my fortune, whom I pay much below their deserts, if I mayvalue them according to what they bring in; therefore I shall not getinto a passion with them; those with whom I will be in a passion arethose who eat my dinners, mount my horses, and exhaust my fortune.”
“And pray who are the persons who exhaust your fortune? Explain yourselfmore clearly, I beg, sir.”
“Oh, make yourself easy!—I am not speaking riddles, and you will soonknow what I mean. The people who exhaust my fortune are those who drawout 700,000 francs in the course of an hour.”
“I do not understand you, sir,” said the baroness, trying to disguisethe agitation of her voice and the flush of her face.
“You understand me perfectly, on the contrary,” said Danglars: “but, ifyou will persist, I will tell you that I have just lost 700,000 francsupon the Spanish loan.”
“And pray,” asked the baroness, “am I responsible for this loss?”
“Why not?”
“Is it my fault you have lost 700,000 francs?”
“Certainly it is not mine.”
“Once for all, sir,” replied the baroness sharply, “I tell you I willnot hear cash named; it is a style of language I never heard in thehouse of my parents or in that of my first husband.”
“Oh, I can well believe that, for neither of them was worth a penny.”
“The better reason for my not being conversant with the slang of thebank, which is here dinning in my ears from morning to night; that noiseof jingling crowns, which are constantly being counted and re-counted,is odious to me. I only know one thing I dislike more, which is thesound of your voice.”
“Really?” said Danglars. “Well, this surprises me, for I thought youtook the liveliest interest in all my affairs!”
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“I? What could put such an idea into your head?”
“Yourself.”
“Ah?—what next?”
“Most assuredly.”
“I should like to know upon what occasion?”
“Oh, mon Dieu! that is very easily done. Last February you were thefirst who told me of the Haitian funds. You had dreamed that a ship hadentered the harbor at Le Havre, that this ship brought news that apayment we had looked upon as lost was going to be made. I know howclear-sighted your dreams are; I therefore purchased immediately as manyshares as I could of the Haitian debt, and I gained 400,000 francs byit, of which 100,000 have been honestly paid to you. You spent it as youpleased; that was your business. In March there was a question about agrant to a railway. Three companies presented themselves, each offeringequal securities. You told me that your instinct,—and although youpretend to know nothing about speculations, I think on the contrary,that your comprehension is very clear upon certain affairs,—well, youtold me that your instinct led you to believe the grant would be givento the company called the Southern. I bought two thirds of the shares ofthat company; as you had foreseen, the shares trebled in value, and Ipicked up a million, from which 250,000 francs were paid to you for pin-money. How have you spent this 250,000 francs?—it is no business ofmine.”
“When are you coming to the point?” cried the baroness, shivering withanger and impatience.
“Patience, madame, I am coming to it.”
“That’s fortunate.”
“In April you went to dine at the minister’s. You heard a privateconversation respecting Spanish affairs—on the expulsion of Don Carlos.I bought some Spanish shares. The expulsion took place and I pocketed600,000 francs the day Charles V. repassed the Bidassoa. Of these600,000 francs you took 50,000 crowns. They were yours, you disposed ofthem according to your fancy, and I asked no questions; but it is notthe less true that you have this year received 500,000 livres.”
“Well, sir, and what then?”
“Ah, yes, it was just after this that you spoiled everything.”
“Really, your manner of speaking——”
“It expresses my meaning, and that is all I want. Well, three days afterthat you talked politics with M. Debray, and you fancied from his wordsthat Don Carlos had returned to Spain. Well, I sold my shares, the newsgot out, and I no longer sold—I gave them away, next day I find the newswas false, and by this false report I have lost 700,000 francs.”
“Well?”
“Well, since I gave you a fourth of my gains, I think you owe me afourth of my losses; the fourth of 700,000 francs is 175,000 francs.”
“What you say is absurd, and I cannot see why M. Debray’s name is mixedup in this affair.”
“Because if you do not possess the 175,000 francs I reclaim, you musthave lent them to your friends, and M. Debray is one of your friends.”
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“For shame!” exclaimed the baroness.
“Oh, let us have no gestures, no screams, no modern drama, or you willoblige me to tell you that I see Debray leave here, pocketing the wholeof the 500,000 livres you have handed over to him this year, while hesmiles to himself, saying that he has found what the most skilfulplayers have never discovered—that is, a roulette where he wins withoutplaying, and is no loser when he loses.”
The baroness became enraged.
“Wretch!” she cried, “will you dare to tell me you did not know what younow reproach me with?”
“I do not say that I did know it, and I do not say that I did not knowit. I merely tell you to look into my conduct during the last four yearsthat we have ceased to be husband and wife, and see whether it has notalways been consistent. Some time after our rupture, you wished to studymusic, under the celebrated baritone who made such a successfulappearance at the Théâtre Italien; at the same time I felt inclined tolearn dancing of the danseuse who acquired such a reputation in London.This cost me, on your account and mine, 100,000 francs. I said nothing,for we must have peace in the house; and 100,000 francs for a lady andgentleman to be properly instructed in music and dancing are not toomuch. Well, you soon become tired of singing, and you take a fancy tostudy diplomacy with the minister’s secretary. You understand, itsignifies nothing to me so long as you pay for your lessons out of yourown cash box. But today I find you are drawing on mine, and that yourapprenticeship may cost me 700,000 francs per month. Stop there, madame,for this cannot last. Either the diplomatist must give his lessonsgratis, and I will tolerate him, or he must never set his foot again inmy house;—do you understand, madame?”
“Oh, this is too much,” cried Hermine, choking, “you are worse thandespicable.”
“But,” continued Danglars, “I find you did not even pause there——”
“Insults!”
“You are right; let us leave these facts alone, and reason coolly. Ihave never interfered in your affairs excepting for your good; treat mein the same way. You say you have nothing to do with my cash box. Be itso. Do as you like with your own, but do not fill or empty mine.Besides, how do I know that this was not a political trick, that theminister enraged at seeing me in the opposition, and jealous of thepopular sympathy I excite, has not concerted with M. Debray to ruin me?”
“A probable thing!”
“Why not? Who ever heard of such an occurrence as this?—a falsetelegraphic despatch—it is almost impossible for wrong signals to bemade as they were in the last two telegrams. It was done on purpose forme—I am sure of it.”
“Sir,” said the baroness humbly, “are you not aware that the manemployed there was dismissed, that they talked of going to law with him,that orders were issued to arrest him and that
this order would havebeen put into execution if he had not escaped by flight, which provesthat he was either mad or guilty? It was a mistake.”
“Yes, which made fools laugh, which caused the minister to have asleepless night, which has caused the minister’s secretaries to blackenseveral sheets of paper, but which has cost me 700,000 francs.”
“But, sir,” said Hermine suddenly, “if all this is, as you say, causedby M. Debray, why, instead of going direct to him, do you come and tellme of it? Why, to accuse the man, do you address the woman?”
“Do I know M. Debray?—do I wish to know him?—do I wish to know that hegives advice?—do I wish to follow it?—do I speculate? No; you do allthis, not I.”
“Still it seems to me, that as you profit by it——”
Danglars shrugged his shoulders. “Foolish creature,” he exclaimed.“Women fancy they have talent because they have managed two or threeintrigues without being the talk of Paris! But know that if you had evenhidden your irregularities from your husband, who has but thecommencement of the art—for generally husbands will not see—you wouldthen have been but a faint imitation of most of your friends among thewomen of the world. But it has not been so with me,—I see, and alwayshave seen, during the last sixteen years. You may, perhaps, have hiddena thought; but not a step, not an action, not a fault, has escaped me,while you flattered yourself upon your address, and firmly believed youhad deceived me. What has been the result?—that, thanks to my pretendedignorance, there is none of your friends, from M. de Villefort to M.Debray, who has not trembled before me. There is not one who has nottreated me as the master of the house,—the only title I desire withrespect to you; there is not one, in fact, who would have dared to speakof me as I have spoken of them this day. I will allow you to make mehateful, but I will prevent your rendering me ridiculous, and, aboveall, I forbid you to ruin me.”
The baroness had been tolerably composed until the name of Villefort hadbeen pronounced; but then she became pale, and, rising, as if touched bya spring, she stretched out her hands as though conjuring an apparition;she then took two or three steps towards her husband, as though to tearthe secret from him, of which he was ignorant, or which he withheld fromsome odious calculation,—odious, as all his calculations were.
“M. de Villefort!—What do you mean?”
“I mean that M. de Nargonne, your first husband, being neither aphilosopher nor a banker, or perhaps being both, and seeing there wasnothing to be got out of a king’s attorney, died of grief or anger atfinding, after an absence of nine months, that you had been enceintesix. I am brutal,—I not only allow it, but boast of it; it is one of thereasons of my success in commercial business. Why did he kill himselfinstead of you? Because he had no cash to save. My life belongs to mycash. M. Debray has made me lose 700,000 francs; let him bear his shareof the loss, and we will go on as before; if not, let him becomebankrupt for the 250,000 livres, and do as all bankrupts do—disappear.He is a charming fellow, I allow, when his news is correct; but when itis not, there are fifty others in the world who would do better thanhe.”
Madame Danglars was rooted to the spot; she made a violent effort toreply to this last attack, but she fell upon a chair thinking ofVillefort, of the dinner scene, of the strange series of misfortuneswhich had taken place in her house during the last few days, and changedthe usual calm of her establishment to a scene of scandalous debate.
Danglars did not even look at her, though she did her best to faint. Heshut the bedroom door after him, without adding another word, andreturned to his apartments; and when Madame Danglars recovered from herhalf-fainting condition, she could almost believe that she had had adisagreeable dream.
The Count of Monte Cristo, Illustrated Page 66