CHAPTER X. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE
After the surgeon had bandaged his injured arm, and arranged a sling forit, the Duke of Vallombreuse was put carefully into a chair, which hadbeen sent for in all haste, to be taken home. His wound was not in theleast a dangerous one, though it would deprive him of the use of hisright hand for some time to come, for the blade had gone quite throughthe forearm; but, most fortunately, without severing any importanttendons or arteries. He suffered a great deal of pain from it ofcourse, but still more from his wounded pride; and he felt furiously andunreasonably angry with everything and everybody about him. It seemedto be somewhat of a relief to him to swear savagely at his bearers, andcall them all the hardest names he could think of, whenever he felt theslightest jar, as they carried him slowly towards home, though theywere walking as steadily as men could do, and carefully avoiding everyinequality in the road. When at last he reached his own house, he wasnot willing to be put to bed, as the surgeon advised, but lay down upona lounge instead, where he was made as comfortable as was possible byhis faithful Picard, who was in despair at seeing the young duke insuch a condition; astonished as well, for nothing of the kind had everhappened before, in all the many duels he had fought; and the admiringvalet had shared his master's belief that he was invincible. TheChevalier de Vidalinc sat in a low chair beside his friend, and gave himfrom time to time a spoonful of the tonic prescribed by the surgeon,but refrained from breaking the silence into which he had fallen.Vallombreuse lay perfectly still for a while; but it was easy to see,in spite of his affected calmness, that his blood was boiling withsuppressed rage. At last he could restrain himself no longer, and burstout violently: "Oh! Vidalinc, this is too outrageously aggravating! tothink that that contemptible, lean stork, who has flown forth from hisruined chateau so as not to die of starvation in it, should have daredto stick his long bill into me! I have encountered, and conquered, thebest swordsmen in France, and never returned from the field before withso much as a scratch, or without leaving my adversary stretched lifelesson the ground, or wounded and bleeding in the arms of his friends."
"But you must remember that the most favoured and the bravest ofmortals have their unlucky days, Vallombreuse," answered the chevaliersententiously, "and Dame Fortune does not ALWAYS smile, even uponher prime favourites. Until now you have never had to complain of herfrowns, for you have been her pampered darling all your life long."
"Isn't it too disgraceful," continued Vallombreuse, growing more andmore heated, "that this ridiculous buffoon--this grotesque countryclown--who takes such abominable drubbings on the stage, and has neverin his life known what it was to associate with gentlemen, should havemanaged to get the best of the Duke of Vallombreuse, hitherto by commonaccord pronounced invincible? He must be a professional prize-fighter,disguised as a strolling mountebank."
"There can be no doubt about his real rank," said Vidalinc, "forthe Marquis de Bruyeres guarantees it; but I must confess that hisunequalled performance to-day filled me with astonishment; it was simplymarvellous. Neither Girolamo nor Paraguante, those two world-renownedswordsmen, could have surpassed it. I watched him closely, and I tellyou that even they could not have withstood him. It took all yourremarkable skill--which has been so greatly enhanced by the Neapolitan'sinstructions--to avoid being mortally wounded; why your defeat was avictory in my eyes, in that it was not a more overwhelming one."
"I don't know how I am to wait for this wound to heal," the duke said,after a short pause, "I am so impatient to provoke him again, and havethe opportunity to revenge myself."
"That would be a very hazardous proceeding, and one that I shouldstrongly advise you not to attempt," Vidalinc replied in an earnesttone. "Your sword-arm will scarcely be as strong as before for a longtime I fear, and that would seriously diminish your chances of success.This Baron de Sigognac is a very formidable antagonist, and will bestill more so, for you, now that he knows your tactics; and besides, theconfidence in himself which his first victory naturally gives him wouldbe another thing in his favour. Honour is satisfied, and the encounterwas a serious one for you. Let the matter rest here, I beseech you!"
Vallombreuse could not help being secretly convinced of the justice ofthese remarks, but was not willing to avow it openly, even to his mostintimate friend. He was a sufficiently accomplished swordsman himselfto appreciate de Sigognac's wonderful prowess, and he knew that it farsurpassed his own much vaunted skill, though it enraged him to have torecognise this humiliating fact. He was even obliged to acknowledge, inhis inmost heart, that he owed his life to the generous forbearance ofhis hated enemy; who might have taken it just as well as not, but hadspared him, and been content with giving him only a flesh wound, justsevere enough to put him hors-de-combat, without doing him any seriousinjury. This magnanimous conduct, by which a less haughty nature wouldhave been deeply touched, only served to irritate the young duke'spride, and increase his resentment. To think that he, the valiant andpuissant Duke of Vallombreuse, had been conquered, humiliated, wounded!the bare idea made him frantic. Although he said nothing further to hiscompanion about his revenge, his mind was filled with fierce projectswhereby to obtain it, and he swore to himself to be even yet with theauthor of his present mortification--if not in one way, then in another;for injuries there be that are far worse than mere physical wounds andhurts.
"I shall cut a sorry figure enough now in the eyes of the fairIsabelle," said he at last, with a forced laugh, "with my arm here runthrough and rendered useless by the sword of her devoted gallant. Cupid,weak and disabled, never did find much favour with the Graces, youknow. But oh! how charming and adorable she seems to me, this sweet,disdainful Isabelle! I am actually almost grateful to her for resistingme so; for, if she had yielded, I should have been tired of her by thistime, I fancy. Her nature certainly cannot be a base, ordinary one, orshe would never have refused thus the advances of a wealthy and powerfulnobleman, who is ready to lavish upon her everything that heart coulddesire, and whose own personal attractions are not to be despised; ifthe universal verdict of the fair sex of all ranks can be reliedupon. There is a certain respect and esteem mingled with my passionateadmiration for her, that I have never felt before for any woman, andit is very sweet to me. But how in the world are we to get rid of thisconfounded young sprig of nobility, her self-constituted champion? Maythe devil fly away with him!"
"It will not be an easy matter," the chevalier replied, and especiallynow that he is upon his guard. "But even if you did succeed in gettingrid of him, Isabelle's love for him would still be in your way, and youought to know, better than most men, how obstinate a woman can be in herdevoted attachment to a man."
"Oh! if I could only kill this miserable baron," continued Vallombreuse,not at all impressed by the chevalier's last remark, "I could soon winthe favour of this virtuous young person, in spite of all her littleprudish airs and graces. Nothing is so quickly forgotten as a defunctsuitor."
These were by no means the chevalier's sentiments, but he refrained frompursuing the subject then, wishing to soothe, rather than irritate, hissuffering friend.
"You must first get well as fast as you can," he said, "and it will betime enough then for us to discuss the matter. All this talking weariesyou, and does you no good. Try to get a little nap now, and not exciteyourself so. The surgeon will tax me with imprudence, and call me a badnurse, I'm afraid, if I don't manage to keep you more quiet--mentally aswell as physically."
His patient, yielding with rather an ill grace to this sensible advice,sank back wearily upon his pillows, closed his eyes, and soon fellasleep--where we will leave him, enjoying his much needed repose.
Meantime the Marquis de Bruyeres and de Sigognac had quietly returned totheir hotel, where, like well-bred gentlemen, they did not breathe evena hint of what had taken place. But walls have ears they say, and eyesas well it would appear, for they certainly see as much as they everhear. In the neighbourhood of the apparently solitary, deserted spotwhere the duel had taken place, more than one inqui
sitive, hiddenobserver had closely watched the progress of the combat, and had notlost a moment after it was over in spreading the news of it; so thatby breakfast-time all Poitiers was in a flutter of excitement over theintelligence that the Duke of Vallombreuse had been wounded in a duelwith an unknown adversary, and was exhausting itself in vain conjecturesas to who the valiant stranger could possibly be. No one thought of deSigognac, who had led the most retired life imaginable ever since hisarrival; remaining quietly at the hotel all day, and showing only hisstage mask, not his own face, at the theatre in the evening.
Several gentlemen of his acquaintance sent to inquire ceremoniouslyafter the Duke of Vallombreuse, giving their messengers instructions toendeavour to get some information from his servants about the mysteriousduel, but they were as taciturn as the mutes of a seraglio, for the veryexcellent and sufficient reason that they knew nothing what ever aboutit. The young duke, by his great wealth, his overweening pride, hisuncommon good looks, and his triumphant success among fair ladieseverywhere, habitually excited much secret jealousy and hatred amonghis associates, which not one of them dared to manifest openly--but theywere mightily pleased by his present discomfiture.
It was the first check he had ever experienced, and all those whohad been hurt or offended by his arrogance--and they were legion--nowrejoiced in his mortification. They could not say enough in praise ofhis successful antagonist, though they had never seen him, nor had anyidea as to what manner of than he might be. The ladies, who nearly allhad some cause of complaint against the haughty young noble man, as hewas wont to boast loudly of his triumphs, and basely betray the favoursthat had been accorded to him in secret, were full of enthusiastic andtender admiration for this victorious champion of a woman's virtue, who,they felt, had unconsciously avenged for them many scornful slights, andthey would have gladly crowned him with laurel and myrtle, and rewardedhim with their sweetest smiles and most distinguished favour.
However, as nothing on this terraqueous and sublunary globe can longremain a secret, it soon transpired through Maitre Bilot, who had itdirect from Jacques, the valet of the Marquis de Bruyeres, who had beenpresent during the momentous interview between his master and the Baronde Sigognac, that the duke's brave antagonist was no other than theredoubtable Captain Fracasse; or rather, a young nobleman in disguise,who for the sake of a love affair had become a member of Herode's troupeof travelling comedians. As to his real name, Jacques had unfortunatelyforgotten it, further than that it ended in "gnac," as is not uncommonin Gascony, but on the point of his rank he was positive. Thisdelightfully romantic and "ower-true tale" was received withacclamations by the good folk of Poitiers. They were fairly overflowingwith admiration for and interest in the valiant gentleman who wieldedsuch a powerful blade, and the devoted lover who had left everything tofollow his mistress, and when Captain Fracasse appeared upon the stagethat evening, the prolonged and enthusiastic applause that greeted him,and was renewed over and over again before he was allowed to speak asingle word, bore witness unmistakably to the favour with which hewas regarded; while the ladies rose in their boxes and waved theirhandkerchiefs, even the grandest and most dignified among them, andbrought the palms of their gloved hands daintily together in his honour.It was a real ovation, and best of all a spontaneous one. Isabellealso received a perfect storm of applause, which alarmed and hadnearly overcome the retiring young actress, who blushed crimson in herembarrassment, as she made a modest curtsey in acknowledgment of thecompliment.
Herode was overjoyed, and his face shone like the full moon as he rubbedhis hands together and grinned broadly in his exuberant delight; for thereceipts were immense, and the cash-box was full to bursting. Everybodyhad rushed to the theatre to see and applaud the now famous CaptainFracasse--the capital actor and high-spirited gentleman--who fearedneither cudgels nor swords; and had not shrunk from encountering thedreaded Duke of Vallombreuse, the terror of all the country round, inmortal combat, as the champion of offended beauty. Blazius, however, didnot share the tyrant's raptures, but on the contrary foreboded no goodfrom all this, for he feared, and not without reason, the vindictivecharacter of the Duke of Vallombreuse, and was apprehensive thathe would find some means of revenging himself for his defeat at deSigognac's hands that would be detrimental to the troupe. "Earthenvessels," said he, "should be very careful how they get in the way ofmetal ones, lest, if they rashly encounter them, they be ignominiouslysmashed in the shock." But Herode, relying upon the support andcountenance of the Baron de Sigognac and the Marquis de Bruyeres,laughed at his fears, and called him faint-heart, a coward, and acroaker.
When the comedians returned to their hotel, after the play was over, deSigognac accompanied Isabelle to the door of her room, and, contrary toher usual custom, the young actress invited him to enter it with her.When they found themselves quite alone, and safe from all curious eyes,Isabelle turned to de Sigognac, took his hand in both of hers, andpressing it warmly said to him in a voice trembling with emotion,
"Promise me never to run such a fearful risk for my sake again, deSigognac; promise me! Swear it, if you really do love me as you say."
"That is a thing I cannot do," the baron replied, "even to please you,sweet Isabelle! If ever any insolent fellow dares to show a want ofproper respect for you, I shall surely chastise him for it, as I ought,be he what he may--duke, or even prince."
"But remember, de Sigognac, that I am nothing but an actress, inevitablyexposed to affronts from the men that haunt the coulisses. It is thegenerally received opinion, which alas! is but too well justified by theusual ways of the members of my profession, that an actress is nobetter than she should be; in fine, not a proper character nor worthy ofrespect. From the moment that a woman steps upon the stage she becomespublic property, and even if she be really pure and virtuous it isuniversally believed that she only affects it for a purpose. Thesethings are hard and bitter, but they must be borne, since it isimpossible to change them. In future trust to me, I pray you, torepel those who would force their unwelcome attentions upon me in thegreen-room, or endeavour to make their way into my dressing-room. Asharp rap over the knuckles with a corset board from me will be quite asefficacious as for you to draw your sword in my behalf."
"But I am not convinced," said de Sigognac, with a smile; "I must stillbelieve, sweet Isabelle, that the sword of a chivalrous ally would beyour best weapon of defence, and I beg you not to deprive me of theprecious privilege of being your devoted knight and champion."
Isabelle was still holding de Sigognac's hand, and she now raised herlovely eyes, full of mute supplication, to meet his adoring gaze,hoping yet to draw from him, the much desired promise. But the baron wasincorrigible; where honour was concerned he was as firm and unyieldingas a Spanish hidalgo, and he would have braved a thousand deaths ratherthan have allowed an affront to the lady of his love to pass unpunished;he wished that the same deference and respect should be accorded toIsabelle upon the stage, as to a duchess in her drawing-room.
"Come, de Sigognac, be reasonable," pleaded the young actress, "andpromise me not to expose yourself to such danger again for so frivolousa cause. Oh! what anxiety and anguish I endured as I awaited your returnthis morning. I knew that you had gone out to fight with that dreadfulduke, who is held in such universal terror here; Zerbine told me allabout it. Cruel that you are to torture my poor heart so! That is alwaysthe way with men; they never stop to think of what we poor, loving womenmust suffer when their pride is once aroused! off they go, as fierce aslions, deaf to our sobs and blind to our tears. Do you know, that if youhad been killed I should have died too?"
The tears that filled Isabelle's eyes, and the excessive trembling ofher voice, showed that she was in earnest, and that she had not evenyet recovered her usual calmness and composure. More deeply touchedthan words can express by her emotion, and the love for himself it borewitness to, de Sigognac, encircling her slender form with the arm thatwas free, drew her gently to him, and softly kissed her fair forehead,whilst he could feel, as he pr
essed her to his breast, how she waspanting and trembling. He held her thus tenderly embraced for a blissfulfew seconds of silent ecstasy, which a less respectful lover woulddoubtless have presumed upon; but he would have scorned to takeadvantage of the unreserved confidence bestowed upon him in a moment ofsuch agitation and sorrowful excitement.
"Be comforted, dear Isabelle," said he at last, tenderly. "I was notkilled you see, nor even hurt; and I actually wounded my adversary,though he does pass for a tolerably good swordsman hereabouts, Ibelieve."
"Yes, I well know what a strong hand is yours, and what a brave, nobleheart," Isabelle replied; "and I do not scruple to acknowledge that Ilove you for it with all my heart; feeling sure that you will respectmy frank avowal, and not endeavour to take advantage of it. When Ifirst saw you, de Sigognac, dispirited and desolate, in that dreary,half-ruined chateau, where your youth was passing in sadness andsolitude, I felt a tender interest in you suddenly spring into being inmy heart; had you been happy and prosperous I should have been afraid ofyou, and have shrunk timidly from your notice. When we walked togetherin that neglected garden, where you held aside the brambles so carefullyfor me to pass unscathed, you gathered and presented to me a littlewild rose--the only thing you had to give me. As I raised it to my lips,before putting it in my bosom, and kissed it furtively under pretence ofinhaling its fragrance, I could not keep back a tear that dropped uponit, and secretly and in silence I gave you my heart in exchange for it."
As these entrancing words fell upon his ear, de Sigognac impulsivelytried to kiss the sweet lips so temptingly near his own, but Isabellewithdrew herself gently from his embrace; not with any show of excessiveprudery, but with a modest timidity that no really gallant lover wouldendeavour to overcome by force.
"Yes, I love you, de Sigognac," she continued, in a voice that washeavenly sweet, "and with all my heart, but not as other women love;your glory is my aim, not my own pleasure. I am perfectly willing to belooked upon as your mistress; it is the only thing that would accountsatisfactorily to the world at large for your presence in this troupe ofstrolling players. And why should I care for slanderous reports, so longas I keep my own self-esteem, and know myself to be virtuous and true?If there were really a stain upon my purity it would kill me; I couldnot survive it. It is the princely blood in my veins doubtless thatgives rise to such pride in me; very ridiculous, perhaps, in an actress,but such is my nature."
This enchanting avowal, which would not have taught anything new to amore conceited or bolder suitor, but was a wonderful revelation to deSigognac, who had scarcely dared to hope that his passionate, devotedlove might some day be returned, filled him with such rapturous,overwhelming delight, that he was almost beside himself. A burning flushoverspread his usually pale face; he seemed to see flames before hiseyes; there was a strange ringing in his ears, and his heart throbbedso violently that he felt half suffocated. Losing control of himself inthis moment of ecstasy, so intense that it was not unmixed with pain,he suddenly seized Isabelle passionately in his arms, strained hertrembling form convulsively to his heaving breast, and covered her faceand neck with burning kisses. She did not even try to struggle againstthis fierce embrace, but, throwing her head back, looked fixedly at him,with eyes full of sorrow and reproach. From those lovely eyes, clear andpure as an angel's, great tears welled forth and rolled down over herblanched cheeks, and a suppressed sob shook her quivering frame as asudden faintness seemed to come over her. The young baron, distracted atthe sight of her grief, and full of keen self-reproach, put her gentlydown into a low, easy-chair standing near, and kneeling before her, tookin both his own the hands that she abandoned to him, and passionatelyimplored her pardon; pleading that a momentary madness had takenpossession of him, that he repented of it bitterly, and was ready toatone for his offence by the most perfect submission to her wishes.
"You have hurt me sadly, my friend!" said Isabelle at last, with adeep-drawn sigh. "I had such perfect confidence in your delicacy andrespect. The frank, unreserved avowal of my love for you ought to havebeen enough, and have shown you clearly, by its very openness, that Itrusted you entirely. I believed that you would understand me and letme love you in my own way, without troubling my tenderness for you byvulgar transports. Now, you have robbed me of my feeling of security.I do not doubt your words, but I shall no longer dare to yield to theimpulses of my own heart. And yet it was so sweet to me to be with you,to watch you, to listen to your dear voice, and to follow the course ofyour thoughts as I saw them written in your eyes. I wished to share yourtroubles and anxieties, de Sigognac, leaving your pleasures to others.I said to myself, among all these coarse, dissolute, presuming menthat hover about us, there is one who is different--one who believesin purity, and knows how to respect it in the woman he honours with hislove. I dared to indulge in a sweet dream--even I, Isabelle the actress,pursued as I am constantly by a gallantry that is odious to me--I daredto indulge in the too sweet dream of enjoying with you a pure mutuallove. I only asked to be your faithful companion, to cheer and comfortyou in your struggles with an adverse fate until you had reached thebeginning of happiness and prosperity, and then to retire into obscurityagain, when you had plenty of new friends and followers, and no longerneeded me. You see that I was not very exacting."
"Isabelle, my adored Isabelle," cried de Sigognac, "every word that youspeak makes me reproach myself more and more keenly for my fault, andthe pain I have given you. Rest assured, my own darling, that you havenothing further to fear from me. I am not worthy to kiss the traces ofyour footprints in the dust; but yet, I pray you, listen to me! Perhapsyou do not fully understand all my thoughts and intentions, and willforgive me when you do. I have nothing but my name, which is as pureand spotless as your sweet self, and I offer it to you, my own belovedIsabelle, if you will deign to accept it."
He was still kneeling at her feet, and at these ardently spoken wordsshe leaned towards him, took his upraised face between her hands with aquick, passionate movement, and kissed him fervently on the lips; thenshe sprang to her feet and began, hurriedly and excitedly, pacing backand forth in the chamber.
"You will be my wife, Isabelle?" cried de Sigognac in agitated tones,thrilling in every nerve from the sweet contact of her pure, lovelymouth--fresh as a flower, ardent as a flame.
"Never, never," answered Isabelle, with a clear ring of rapture in hervoice. "I will show myself worthy of such an honour by refusing it.I did mistake you for a moment, my dearest friend; I did mistake you;forgive me. Oh! how happy you have made me; what celestial joy fillsmy soul! You do respect and esteem me, then, to the utmost? Ah! deSigognac, you would really lead me, as your wife, into the hall whereall the portraits of your honoured ancestors would look down upon us?and into the chapel, where your dead mother lies at rest? I couldmeet fearlessly, my beloved, the searching gaze of the dead, from whomnothing is hidden; the crown of purity would not be wanting on my brow."
"But what!" exclaimed the young baron, "you say that you love me,Isabelle, with all that true, faithful heart of yours, yet you will notaccept me! either as lover or husband?"
"You have offered me your name, de Sigognac, your noble, honoured name,and that is enough for me. I give it back to you now, after havingcherished it for one moment in my inmost heart. For one instant I wasyour wife, and I will never, never be another's. While my lips wereon yours I was saying yes to myself, and oh! I did not deserve suchhappiness. For you, my beloved, it would be a sad mistake to burdenyourself with a poor little actress like me, who would always be tauntedwith her theatrical career, however pure and honourable it may havebeen. The cold, disdainful mien with which great ladies would be sureto regard me would cause you keen suffering, and you could not challengeTHEM, you know, my own brave champion! You are the last of a noble race,de Sigognac, and it is your duty to build up your fallen house. When, bya tender glance, I induced you to quit your desolate home and follow me,you doubtless dreamed of a love affair of the usual sort, which was butnatural; but I, looking into the future, thou
ght of far other things.I saw you returning, in rich attire, from the court of your gracioussovereign, who had reinstated you in your rights, and given you anhonourable office, suitable to your exalted rank. The chateau hadresumed its ancient splendour. In fancy I tore the clinging ivy from itscrumbling walls, put the fallen stones back in their places, restoredthe dilapidated roof and shattered window-panes, regilded the threestorks on your escutcheon over the great entrance door, and in the grandold portico; then, having installed you in the renovated home of yourhonoured ancestors, I retired into obscurity, stifling a sigh as Ibade you adieu, though sincerely rejoicing in your well merited goodfortune."
"And your dream shall be accomplished, my noble Isabelle; I feel sure ofit--but not altogether as you relate it to me; such an ending would betoo sad and grievous. You shall be the first, you, my own darling, withthis dear hand clasped in mine, as now, to cross the threshold of thatblessed abode, whence ruin and desolation shall have disappeared, andhave been replaced by prosperity and happiness."
"No, no, de Sigognac, it will be some great, and noble, and beautifulheiress, worthy of you in every way, who will accompany you then; onethat you can present with just pride to all your friends, and of whomnone can say, with a malicious smile, I hissed or applauded her at sucha time and place."
"It is downright cruelty on your part to show your self so adorable, soworthy of all love and admiration, my sweet Isabelle, and at the sametime to deprive me of every hope," said de Sigognac, ruefully; "to giveone glimpse of heaven and then shut me out again; nothing could be morecruel. But I will not despair; I shall make you yield to me yet."
"Do not try, I beseech you," continued Isabelle, with gentle firmness,"for I never shall; I should despise myself if I did. Strive to becontent, de Sigognac, with the purest, truest, most devoted love thatever filled a woman's heart, and do not ask for more. Is it such anunsatisfactory thing to you," she added, with a bright smile, "to beadored by a girl that several men have had the bad taste to declarecharming? Why, even the Duke of Vallombreuse himself professes that hewould be proud of it."
"But to give yourself to me so absolutely, and to refuse yourself tome as absolutely! to mingle such sweet and bitter drops in the samecup--honey and wormwood--and present it to my lips! only you, Isabelle,could be capable of such strange contradictions."
"Yes, I AM an odd girl," she replied, "and therein I resemble my poormother; but such as I am you must put up with me. If you should persistin persecuting me, I know well how I could elude and escape you, andwhere I could hide myself from you so that you would never be able tofind me. But there will be no need of that, we will not talk of it; ourcompact is made. Let it be as I say, de Sigognac, and let us be happytogether while we may. It grows late now, and you must go to your ownroom; will you take with you these verses, of a part that does not suitme at all, and remodel them for me? they belong to a piece that we areto play very soon. Let me be your faithful little friend, de Sigognac,and you shall be my great, and well-beloved poet."
Isabelle, as she spoke, drew forth from a bureau a roll of manuscript,tied with a rose-coloured ribbon, which she gave to the baron with aradiant smile.
"Now kiss me, and go," she said, holding up her cheek for his caress."You are going to work for me, and this is your reward. Good-night, mybeloved, good-night."
It was long after he had regained the quiet of his own room ere deSigognac could compose himself sufficiently to set about the light taskimposed upon him by Isabelle. He was at once enchanted and cast down;radiant with joy, and filled with sorrow; in a seventh heavenof ecstasy, and in the depths of despair. He laughed and he weptalternately, swayed by the most tumultuous and contradictory emotions.The intense happiness of at last knowing himself beloved by his adoredIsabelle made him exultant and joyful, while the terrible thought thatshe never would be his made his heart sink within him. Little by little,however, he grew calmer, as his mind dwelt lovingly upon the pictureIsabelle had drawn of the Chateau de Sigognac restored to its ancientsplendour, and as he sat musing he had a wonderful vision of it--soglowing and vivid that it was like reality. He saw before him the facadeof the chateau, with its large windows shining in the sunlight, and itsmany weather-cocks, all freshly gilded, glistening against the brightblue sky, whilst the columns of smoke rising from every chimney, solong cold and unused, told of plenty and prosperity within, and his goodfaithful Pierre, in a rich new suit of livery, stood between Miraut andBeelzebub at the great entrance door awaiting him. He saw himself, insumptuous attire, proudly leading his fair Isabelle by the hand towardsthe grand old home of his forefathers; his beautiful Isabelle, dressedlike a princess, wearing ornaments bearing a device which seemed to bethat of one of the greatest, most illustrious families of France, andwith a ducal coronet upon her shapely head. But with it all she didnot appear to be proud or haughty--she was just her own sweet, modestself--and in the hand that was free she carried the little wild rose,fresh as when it was first plucked, that he had given her, and from timeto time raised and pressed it tenderly to her lips as she inhaled itsfragrance; it seemed more precious to her than all the superb jewelsthat she wore. As they approached the chateau a most stately andmajestic old man, whose breast was covered with orders, and whose faceseemed not entirely unfamiliar to de Sigognac, stepped forth from theportico to meet and welcome them. But what greatly surprised him wasthat a remarkably handsome young man, of most proud and loftybearing, accompanied the old prince, who closely resembled the Dukeof Vallombreuse, and who smilingly advanced and offered a cordialsalutation and welcome to Isabelle and himself. A great crowd oftenantry stationed near at hand hailed them with lusty cheers, makingmany demonstrations of hearty joy and delight, and his own happinessseemed to be complete. Suddenly the sound of a horn was heard, and ata little distance he saw the beautiful Yolande de Foix, radiant andcharming as ever, riding slowly by--apparently returning from the chase.He followed her with his eyes admiringly, but felt no regret as herfigure was lost to view amid the thick gorse bushes bordering the roaddown which she was going, and turned with ever increasing love andadoration to the sweet being at his side. The memory of the fairYolande, whom he had once worshipped in a vague, boyish way, fadedbefore the delicious reality of his passionate love for Isabelle;who satisfied so fully every requirement of his nature, and had sothoroughly healed the wound made by the scorn and ridicule of the other,that it seemed to be entirely forgotten then.
It was not easy for de Sigognac to rouse himself after this entrancingvision, which had been so startlingly real, and fix his attention uponthe verses he had promised to revise and alter for Isabelle, but when atlast he had succeeded, he threw himself into his task with enthusiasm,and wrote far into the night--inspired by the thought of the sweet lipsthat had called him her poet, and that were to pronounce the words hepenned; and he was rewarded for his exertions by Isabelle's sweetestsmile, and warmest praise and gratitude.
At the theatre the next evening the crowd was even greater than before,and the crush unprecedented. The reputation of Captain Fracasse, thevaliant conqueror of the Duke of Vallombreuse; increased hourly, andbegan to assume a chimerical and fabulous character. If the labours ofHercules had been ascribed to him, there would have been some credulousones to believe the tale, and he was endowed by his admirers with theprowess of a dozen good knights and brave, of the ancient times ofchivalrous deeds. Some of the young noblemen of the place talked ofseeking his acquaintance, and giving a grand banquet in his honour; morethan one fair lady was desperately in love with him, and had seriousthoughts of writing a billet-doux to tell him so. In short, he wasthe fashion, and everybody swore by him. As for the hero of a thiscommotion, he was greatly annoyed at being thus forcibly dragged forthfrom the obscurity in which he had desired to remain, but it was notpossible to avoid it, and he could only submit. For a few moments he didthink of bolting, and not making his appearance again upon the stage inPoitiers; but the remembrance of the disappointment it would be to theworthy tyrant, who was in an ecstasy of delight ov
er the riches pouringinto the treasury, prevented his carrying out this design. And, indeed,as he reminded himself, were not these honest comedians, who had rescuedhim from his misery and despair, entitled in all fairness to profit, sofar as they could, by this unexpected and overwhelming favour which hehad all unwittingly gained? So, resigning himself as philosophically ashe could to his fate, he buckled his sword-belt, draped his cloak overhis shoulder, put on his mask and calmly awaited his call to the stage.
As the receipts were so large, Herode, like a generous manager, haddoubled the usual number of lights, so that the theatre was almost asradiant as if a flood of sunshine had been poured into it. The fairportion of the audience, hoping to attract the attention of the valiantCaptain Fracasse, had arrayed themselves in all their splendour; not adiamond was left in its casket; they sparkled and flashed, every one, onnecks and arms more or less white and round, and on heads more or lessshapely, but all filled with an ardent desire to please the hero of thehour; so the scene was a brilliant one in every way. Only one box yetremained unoccupied, the best situated and most conspicuous in the wholehouse; every eye was turned upon it, and much wonder expressed at theapathy manifested by those who had secured it, for all the rest of thespectators had been long settled in their places. At length, just as thecurtain was rising, a young lady entered and took her seat in the muchobserved box, accompanied by a gentleman of venerable and patriarchalappearance; apparently an indulgent old uncle, a slave to the capricesof his pretty niece, who had renounced his comfortable after-dinner napby the fire, in order to obey her behest and escort her to the theatre.She, slender and erect as Diana, was very richly and elegantly dressed,in that peculiar and exquisite shade of delicate sea green which canbe worn only by the purest blondes, and which seemed to enhance thedazzling whiteness of her uncovered shoulders, and the rounded, slenderneck, diaphanous as alabaster, that proudly sustained her small,exquisitely poised head. Her hair, clustering in sunny ringlets roundher brow, was like living gold, it made a glory round her head, and thewhole audience was enraptured with her beauty, though an envious maskconcealed so much of it; all, indeed, save the snow-white forehead, theround dimpled chin, the ripe red lips, whose tint was rendered yetmore vivid by the contrast with the black velvet that shaded them,the perfect oval of the face, and a dainty little ear, pink as asea-shell--a combination of charms worthy of a goddess, and which madeevery one impatient to see the radiant, beauteous whole. They were soongratified; for the young deity, either incommoded by the heat, or elsewishing to show a queenly generosity to the gazing throng, took off theodious mask, and disclosed to view a pair of brilliant eyes, darkand blue as lapis lazuli, shaded with rich golden fringes, a piquant,perfectly cut little nose, half Grecian, half aquiline, and cheekstinged with a delicate flush that would have put a rose-leaf to shame.In fine, it was Yolande de Foix, more radiantly beautiful than ever,who, leaning forward in a negligent, graceful pose, looked nonchalantlyabout the house, not in the least discomposed by the many eyes fixedboldly and admiringly upon her. A loud burst of applause, that greetedthe first appearance of the favourite actor, drew attention from herfor a moment, as de Sigognac stalked forward upon the stage in thecharacter of Captain Fracasse. As he paused, to wait until his admirerswould allow him to begin his first tirade, he looked negligently roundthe eager audience, and when his eyes fell upon Yolande de Foix, sittingtranquil and radiant in her box, calmly surveying him with her gloriouseyes, he suddenly turned dizzy and faint; the lights appeared firstto blaze like suns, and then sink into darkness; the heads of thespectators seemed sinking into a dense fog; a cold perspiration startedout on him from head to foot; he trembled violently, and felt as if hislegs were giving way under him; composure, memory, courage, all seemedto have failed him, as utterly as if he had been struck by lightning.
Oh, shame! oh, rage! oh, too cruel stroke of fate! for him, a deSigognac, to be seen by her--the haughty beauty that he used to worshipfrom afar--in this grotesque array, filling so unworthy, so ridiculousa part, for the amusement of the gaping multitude! and he could not hidehimself, he could not sink into the earth, away from her contemptuous,mocking gaze. He felt that he could not, would not bear it, and for amoment was upon the point of flying; but there seemed to be leaden solesto his shoes, which he could by no means raise from the ground. Hewas powerless to move hand or foot, and stood there in a sort ofstupefaction; to the great astonishment of Scapin, who, thinking thathe must have forgotten his part, whispered to him the opening phrasesof his tirade. The public thought that their favourite actor desiredanother round of applause, and broke out afresh, clapping, stamping,crying bravo, making a tremendous racket, which little respite gave poorde Sigognac time to collect his scattered senses, and, with a mightyeffort, he broke the spell that had bound him, and threw himself intohis part with such desperation that his acting was more extravagant andtelling than ever. It fairly brought down the house. The haughty Yolandeherself could not forbear to smile, and her old uncle, thoroughlyaroused, laughed heartily, and applauded with all his might. No onebut Isabelle had the slightest idea of the reason of Captain Fracasse'sunwonted fury--but she saw at once who was looking on, and knowing howsensitive he was, realized the effect it must infallibly produce uponhim. She furtively watched the proud beauty as she modestly played herown part, and thought, not without a keen pang through her faithful,loving heart, that here would be a worthy mate for the Baron deSigognac, when he had succeeded in re-establishing the lost splendour ofhis house. As to the poor young nobleman, he resolved not to glance onceagain at Yolande, lest he should be seized by a sudden transport of rageand do something utterly rash and disgraceful, but kept his eyes fixed,whenever he could, upon his sweet, lovely Isabelle. The sight of herdear face was balm to his wounded spirit--her love, of which he was nowso blissfully sure, consoled him for the openly manifested scorn of theother, and from her he drew strength to go on bravely with his detestedpart.
It was over at last--the piece was finished--and when de Sigognac toreoff his mask, like a man who is suffocating, his companions were alarmedat his altered looks. He was fairly livid, and let himself fall upon abench standing near like a lifeless body. Seeing that he was very faint,Blazius hastened to fetch some wine--his sovereign remedy for everyill--but de Sigognac rejected it, and signed that he wanted waterinstead.
"A great mistake," said the pedant, shaking his head disapprovingly,"a sad mistake--water is only fit for frogs, and fish, and such-likecold-blooded creatures--it does not do for human beings at all. Everywater-bottle should be labelled,'For external use only.' Why, I shoulddie instantly if so much as a drop of the vile stuff found its way downmy throat. Take my advice, Captain Fracasse, and let it alone. Here,have some of this good strong wine; it will set you right in a jiffy."
But de Sigognac would not be persuaded, and persisted in motioning forwater. When it was brought, cool and fresh, he eagerly swallowed a largedraught of the despised liquid, and found himself almost immediatelyrevived by it--his face resuming a more natural hue, and the lightreturning to his eyes. When he was able to sit up and look about himagain, Herode approached, in his turn, and said, "You played admirablythis evening, and with wonderful spirit, Captain Fracasse, but itdoes not do to take too much out of yourself in this way--such violentexertions would quickly do for you. The comedian's art consists insparing himself as much as possible, whilst producing striking effects;he should be calm amidst all his simulated fury, and cool in hisapparently most burning rage. Never did actor play this part as superblyas you have done to-night--THAT I am bound to acknowledge--but this istoo dear a price to pay for it."
"Yes, wasn't I absurd in it?" answered the baron bitterly. "I feltmyself supremely ridiculous throughout--but especially when my head wentthrough the guitar with which Leander was belabouring me."
"You certainly did put on the most comically furious airs imaginable,"the tyrant replied, "and the whole audience was convulsed with laughter.Even Mlle. Yolande de Foix, that very great, and proud, and noble lady,conde
scended to smile. I saw her myself."
"It was a great honour for me assuredly," cried de Sigognac, withflaming cheeks, "to have been able to divert so great a lady."
"Pardon me, my lord," said the tyrant, who perceived the painful flushthat covered the baron's face, "I should have remembered that thesuccess which is so prized by us poor comedians, actors by profession,cannot but be a matter of indifference to one of your lordship's rank."
"You have not offended me, my good Herode," de Sigognac hastened toreply, holding out his hand to the honest tyrant with a genial smile,"whatever is worth doing is worth doing well. But I could not helpremembering that I had dreamed of and hoped for very different triumphsfrom this."
Isabelle, who meantime had been dressing for the other piece, passednear de Sigognac just then, and gave him such an angelic look--so fullof tenderness, sympathy, and passionate love--that he quite forgot thehaughty Yolande, and felt really happy again. It was a divine balm, thathealed his wounded pride--for the moment at least; but such wounds areall too apt to open and bleed again and again.
The Marquis de Bruyeres was at his post as usual, and though verymuch occupied in applauding Zerbine, yet found time to go and pay hisrespects to Mlle. Yolande de Foix. He related to her, without mentioningthe baron's name, the affair of the duel between Captain Fracasse andthe Duke of Vallombreuse saying that he ought to be able to give all thedetails of that famous encounter better than anybody else, since he hadbeen present as one of the seconds.
"You need not be so mysterious about it," answered Yolande, "for it isnot difficult to divine that your Captain Fracasse is no other than theBaron de Sigognac. Didn't I myself see him leaving his old owl-hauntedtowers in company with this little Bohemienne, who plays her part ofingenuous young girl with such a precious affectation of modesty?" sheadded, with a forced laugh. "And wasn't he at your chateau with thesevery players? Judging from his usual stupid, silly air, I would nothave believed him capable of making such a clever mountebank, and such afaithful gallant."
As he conversed with Yolande, the marquis was looking about the house,of which he had a much better view than from his own place near thestage, and his attention was caught and fixed by the masked lady,whom he had not seen before, as his back was always turned to her box.Although her head and figure were much enveloped and disguised in aprofusion of black laces, the attitude and general contour of thismysterious beauty seemed strangely familiar to him, and there wassomething about her that reminded him forcibly of the marquise, his ownwife. "Bah!" said he to himself, "how foolish I am; she must be all safeat the Chateau de Bruyeres, where I left her." But at that very momenthe caught sight of a diamond ring--a large solitaire, peculiarlyset--sparkling on her finger, which was precisely like one that theMarquise de Bruyeres always wore.
A little troubled by this strange coincidence, he took leave abruptly ofthe fair Yolande and her devoted old uncle, and hastened to the maskedlady's box. But, prompt as his movements had been, he was too late--thenest was empty--the bird had flown. The lady, whoever she might be, hadvanished, and the suspicious husband was left in considerable vexationand perplexity. "Could it be possible," he murmured, as his doubtsbecame almost certainty, "that she was sufficiently infatuated to fallin love with that miserable Leander, and follow him here? Fortunately Ihad the rascal thoroughly thrashed, so I am even with him, how ever itmay be." This thought restored his ruffled serenity, and he made his wayas fast as he could to the green-room, to rejoin the soubrette, who hadbeen impatiently expecting him, and did not hesitate to rate him soundlyfor his unwonted delay.
When all was over, and Leander--who had been feeling excessively anxiousabout the sudden disappearance of his marquise--was free, he immediatelyrepaired to the open square where he had been first bidden to meetthe carriage sent to fetch him, and where he had found it awaiting himnightly ever since. The little page, who was there alone, put a letterand a small package into his hand, without a word, and then runningswiftly away, before Leander had time to question him, vanished inthe darkness. The note, which was signed simply Marie, was from themarquise, who said that she feared her husband's suspicions had beenexcited, and that it would no longer be safe for them to meet just then,bade him an affectionate farewell until it might be their goodfortune to see each other again, expressed much regret at this unluckycontretemps, and begged him to accept the gold chain she sent therewithas a little souvenir, to remind him of the many happy hours they hadspent together. Leander was at first very much vexed and disappointed,but was somewhat reconciled and consoled when he felt the weight of hisgolden treasure, and saw its length and thickness; and, on the whole,was rather glad to come off with such flying colours from an adventurethat might have brought down a yet more severe punishment than that hehad already received upon his devoted head.
When Isabelle regained her own room she found a very rich and elegantcasket awaiting her there, which had been placed conspicuously on thedressing-table, where it could not fail to meet her eye the moment sheentered the chamber. A folded paper was lying under one corner of thecasket, which must have contained some very precious gems, for it wasa real marvel of beauty itself. The paper was not sealed, and bore onlythese two words, evidently written by a weak and trembling hand, "ForIsabelle." A bright flush of indignation overspread her sweet face whenshe perceived it, and without even yielding to her feminine curiosityso far as to open the richly carved and inlaid casket for a peep at itscontents, she called for Maitre Bilot, and ordered him peremptorilyto take it immediately out of her room, and give it back to whomsoeverowned it, for she would not suffer it to remain where it was anotherminute. The landlord affected astonishment, and swore by all he heldsacred that he did not know who had put the casket there, nor whose itwas; though it must be confessed that he had his suspicions, and feltvery sure that they were correct. In truth, the obnoxious jewel-case hadbeen secretly placed upon Isabelle's table by old Mme. Leonarde, to whomthe Duke of Vallombreuse had had recourse, in the hope that she might beable to aid him, and in the full belief, shared by her, that the superbdiamonds which the beautiful casket contained would accomplish all thathe desired with Isabelle. But his offering only served to rouse herindignation, and she spoke very severely to Maitre Bilot, commanding himto remove it instantly from her sight, and to be careful not to mentionthis fresh affront to Captain Fracasse. The worthy landlord couldnot help feeling enthusiastic admiration for the conduct of the youngactress, who rejected jewels that would have made a duchess envious, andas he retired bowed to her as respectfully and profoundly as he wouldhave done to a queen. After he had withdrawn and she was left alone,Isabelle, feeling agitated and feverish, opened her window for a breathof fresh air, and to cool her burning cheeks and brow. She saw a brightlight issuing from a couple of windows in the mansion of the Duke ofVallombreuse--doubtless in the room where the wounded young noblemanlay--but the garden and the little alley beneath her seemed absolutelydeserted. In a moment, however, she caught a low whisper from thelatter, not intended for her ears, which said, "She has not gone tobed yet." She softly leaned out of her window--the room within wasnot lighted, so she could not be seen--and peering anxiously into thedarkness thought she could distinguish two cloaked figures lurking inthe alley, and farther away, near one end of it, a third one, apparentlyon the watch. They seemed to feel that they were observed, and all threepresently slunk away and vanished, leaving Isabelle half in doubt as towhether they were the creatures of her excited imagination, or had beenreal men prowling there. Tired at last of watching, without hearing orseeing anything more, she withdrew from the window, closed and securedit softly, procured a light, saw that the great, clumsy bolt on her doorwas property adjusted, and made her preparations for bed; lying down atlast and trying to sleep, for she was very tired, but haunted byvague fears and doubts that made her anxious and uneasy. She did notextinguish her light, but placed it near the bed, and strove to reassureherself and reason away her nameless terror; but all in vain. At everylittle noise--the cracking of the fu
rniture or the falling of a cinderin the fire-place, she started up in fresh alarm, and could not closeher eyes. High up in the wall of one side of her room was a small roundwindow--a bull's eye--evidently intended to give light and air to somedark inner chamber or closet, which looked like a great black eye inthe gray wall, keeping an unwinking watch upon her, and Isabelle foundherself again and again glancing up at it with a shudder. It was crossedby two strong iron bars, leaving four small apertures, so that therecould not possibly be any danger of intrusion from that quarter, yet shecould not avoid feeling nervous about it, and at times fancied that shecould see two gleaming eye-balls in its black depths. She lay for a longtime perfectly motionless gazing at it, like one under a spell, and atlast was paralyzed with horror when a head actually appeared at oneof the four openings--a small, dark head, with wild, tangled elf-lockshanging about it; next came a long, thin arm with a claw-like hand,then the shoulder followed, and finally the whole body of a slender,emaciated little girl wriggled dexterously, though with much difficulty,through the narrow aperture, and the child dropped down upon the flooras lightly and noiselessly as a feather, a snow-flake, or a waft ofthistle-down. She had been deceived by Isabelle's remaining so longperfectly quiet, and believed her asleep; but when she softly approachedthe bed, to make sure that her victim's slumber had not been disturbedby her own advent, an expression of extreme surprise was depicted on herface, as she got a full view of the head lying upon the pillow and theeyes fixed upon her in speechless terror. "The lady of the necklace!"she exclaimed aloud. "Yes, the lady of the necklace!" putting one hand,as she spoke, caressingly upon the string of pearl beads round herlittle, thin, brown neck. Isabelle, for her part, though half dead withfright, had recognised the little girl she had first seen at the BlueSun inn, and afterwards on the road to the Chateau de Bruyeres, incompany with Agostino, the brigand. She tried to cry out for help, butthe child put her hand quickly and firmly over her mouth.
"Don't scream," she said reassuringly, "nothing shall hurt you. Chiquitapromised that she would never kill nor harm the good, sweet lady, whogave her the pearls that she meant to steal."
"But what have you come in here for, my poor child?" asked Isabelle,gradually recovering her composure, but filled with surprise at thisstrange intrusion.
"To open the great bolt on your door there that you are so careful toclose every night," answered Chiquita, in the most matter-of-fact way."They chose me for it because I am such a good climber, and as thinand supple as a snake; there are not many holes that I cannot manage tocrawl through."
"And why were you to open my door, Chiquita? so that thieves could comein and steal what few things I have here? There is nothing of valueamong them, I assure you."
"Oh, no!" Chiquita replied disdainfully, "it was to let the men in whowere to carry you off."
"My God! I am lost!" cried poor Isabelle, wringing her hands in despair.
"Not at all," said Chiquita, "and you need not be so frightened. I shalljust leave the bolt as it is, and they would not dare to force the door;it would make too much noise, and they would be caught at it; they'renot so silly as that, never fear."
"But I should have shrieked at the top of my voice, and clung to thebedstead with all my might, if they had tried to take me," exclaimedIsabelle excitedly, "so that I would have been heard by the people inthe neighbouring rooms, and I'm sure they would have come to my rescue."
"A good gag will stifle any shrieks," said Chiquita sententiously, witha lofty contempt for Isabelle's ignorance that was very amusing, "and ablanket rolled tightly about the body prevents any movements; that isan easy matter you see. They would have carried you off without theslightest difficulty, for the stable boy was bribed, and was to open theback door for them."
"Who has laid this wicked plot?" asked the poor, frightened, young girl,with a trembling voice, horror-stricken at the danger she had escaped.
"The great lord who has given them all such heaps of money; oh! suchquantities of big gold pieces--by the handful," said Chiquita, her greatdark eyes glittering with a fierce, covetous expression, strange andhorrible to see in one so young. "But all the same, YOU gave me thepearls, and he shall not hurt you; he shall not have you if you don'twant to go. I will tell them that you were awake, and there was a manin the room, so that I could not get in and open the door for them; theywill all go away quietly enough; you need not be afraid. Now let me haveone good look at you before I go--oh, how sweet and pretty you are--andI love you, yes, I do, ever so much; almost as much as Agostino. Butwhat is this?" cried she suddenly, pouncing upon a knife that was lyingon the table near the bed. "Why, you have got the very knife I lost; itwas my father's knife. Well, you may keep it--it's a good one."
'When this viper bites you, make sure That you must die, for there's no cure.'
"See, this is the way to open it, and then you use it like this: strikefrom below upwards--the blade goes in better that way--and it's so sharpit will go through anything. Carry it in the bosom of your dress, and itis always ready; then if anybody bothers you, out with it, and paf! youhave them ripped up in no time," and the strange, eerie little creatureaccompanied her words with appropriate gestures, by way of illustration.This extraordinary lesson in the art of using a knife, given in the deadof night, and under such peculiar circumstances, seemed like a nightmareto Isabelle.
"Be sure you hold the knife like this, do you see? tightly clasped inyour fingers--as long as you have it no one can harm you, but you canhurt them. Now, I must go--adieu, and don't forget Chiquita."
So saying, the queer little elf pushed a table up to the wall under thebull's eye, mounted it, sprang up and caught hold of the iron bar withthe agility of a monkey, swung herself up in some extraordinary fashion,wriggled through the small opening and disappeared, chanting in a rudemeasure, "Chiquita whisks through key-holes, and dances on the sharppoints of spear-heads and the broken glass on garden walls, without everhurting herself one bit--and nobody can catch her."
Isabelle, left alone, awaited the break of day with tremblingimpatience, unable to sleep after the fright and agitation she hadexperienced, and momentarily dreading some fresh cause of alarm; butnothing else happened to disturb her. When she joined her companionsat breakfast, they were all struck with her extreme pallor, and thedistressed expression of her countenance. To their anxious questionsshe replied by giving an account of her nocturnal adventure, and deSigognac, furious at this fresh outrage, could scarcely be restrainedfrom going at once to demand, satisfaction for it from the Duke ofVallombreuse, to whom he did not hesitate to attribute this villainousscheme.
"I think," said Blazius, when he could make himself heard, "that wehad better pack up, and be off as soon as we can for Paris; the air isbecoming decidedly unwholesome for us in this place."
After a short discussion all the others agreed with him, and it wasdecided that they should take their departure from Poitiers the verynext day.
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