La clique dorée. English

by Emile Gaboriau

  VII.

  Count Ville-Handry had hardly closed the door, when M. de Brevan rushedout of the bedroom in which he had been concealed.

  "Was I right?" he exclaimed.

  But Daniel did not hear him. He had forgotten his very presence.Overcome by the great effort he had made to conceal his emotions, he hadsunk into a chair, hiding his face in his hands, and said to himselfin a mournful voice, and as if trying to convince himself of anoverwhelming fact,--

  "The count has lost his mind altogether, and we are lost."

  The grief of this excellent young man was so great and so bitter, thatM. de Brevan seemed to be deeply moved. He looked at him for sometime with an air of pity, and then suddenly, as if yielding to a goodimpulse, he touched his shoulder, and said,--

  "Daniel!"

  The unhappy man started like one who has suddenly been roused from deepslumber; and, as he recalled what had just happened, he said,--

  "You have heard all, Maxime?"

  "All! I have not lost a word nor a gesture. But do not blame me for myindiscretion. It enables me to give you some friendly advice. You know Ihave paid dear for my experience."

  He hesitated, being at a loss how to express his ideas; then hecontinued in a short, sharp tone,--

  "You love Miss Ville-Handry?"

  "More than my life, don't you know?"

  "Well, if that is so, abandon all thoughts of useless resistance; induceMiss Henrietta to do as her father wishes; and persuade Miss Brandon tolet your wedding take place a month after her own. But ask for specialpledges. Miss Ville-Handry may suffer somewhat during that month; butthe day after your wedding you will carry her off to your own home, andleave the poor old man to his amorous folly."

  Daniel showed in his face that this suggestion opened a new prospectbefore him.

  "I had not thought of that," he said.

  "It is all you can do."

  "Yes, it is what prudence would advise me to do. But can I do so inhonor?"

  "Oh, honor, honor!"

  "Would it not be wrong in me to abandon the poor old man to the mercy ofMiss Brandon and her accomplices?"

  "You will never be able to rescue him, my dear fellow."

  "I ought at least to try. You thought so yesterday, and even thismorning, not two hours ago."

  Maxime could scarcely hide his impatience.

  "I did not know then what I know now," he said.

  Daniel had risen, and was walking up and down the small room, replyingto his own objections, rather than to those raised by Brevan.

  "If I were alone master," he said, "I might, perhaps, agree to acapitulation. But could Henrietta accept it? Never, never! Her fatherknows her well. She is as weak as a child; but at the proper moment shecan develop a masculine energy and an iron will."

  "Why should you tell her at all who Miss Brandon is?"

  "I have pledged my word of honor to tell her every thing."

  Brevan again shrugged his shoulders, and there was no mistaking what hemeant by that gesture. He might just as well have said aloud, "Can oneconceive such stupidity?"

  "Then you had better give up your Henrietta, my poor fellow," he said.

  But Daniel's despair had been overcome. He ground his teeth with anger,and said,--

  "Not yet, my friend, not yet! An honest man who defends his honor andhis life is pretty strong. I have no experience, that is true; but Ihave you, Maxime; and I know I can always count upon you."

  Daniel did not seem to have noticed that M. de Brevan, at first all fireand energy, had rapidly cooled off, like a man, who, having ventured toofar, thinks he has made a mistake, and tries to retrace his steps.

  "Certainly you may count upon me," he replied; "but what can be done?"

  "Well, what you said yourself. I shall call upon Miss Brandon, and watchher. I shall dissemble, and gain time. If necessary, I shall employdetectives, and find out her antecedents. I shall try to interest somehigh personage in my behalf,--my minister, for instance, who is verykind to me. Besides, I have an idea."

  "Ah!"

  "That unlucky cashier, whose story you told me, and who, you think, isnot dead--if we could find him. How did you call him? Oh, Malgat! Anadvertisement inserted in all the leading newspapers of Europe would, nodoubt, reach him; and the hope of seeing himself avenged"--

  M. de Brevan's cheeks began to redden perceptibly. He broke out withstrange vehemence,--

  "What nonsense!"

  Then he added, more collectedly,--

  "You forget that Malgat has been sentenced to I know not how many years'penal servitude, and that he will see in your advertisement a trick ofthe police; so that he will only conceal himself more carefully thanever."

  But Daniel was not so easily shaken. He said,--

  "I will think it over. I will see. Perhaps something might be done withthat young man whom the count mentioned, that M. Wilkie Gordon. If Ithought he was really anxious for Miss Brandon's hand"--

  "I have heard it said, and I am sure it is so, the young man is one ofthose idiots whom vanity renders insane, and who do not know what to doin order to make themselves notorious. Miss Brandon being very famous,he would marry her, just as he would pay a hundred thousand dollars fora famous racer."

  "And how do you account for Miss Brandon's refusal?"

  "By the character of the man, whom I know very well, and whom she knowsas well. She is quite aware that, three months after the wedding, hewould decamp, and in less than a year she would be divorced. Then thereis another thing: Wilkie is only twenty-five years old; and you know afellow at that age is likely to live a good deal longer than a lover whois beyond the sixties."

  The way in which he said this lent to his words a terrible significance;and Daniel, turning pale, stammered out,--

  "Great God! Do you think Miss Brandon could"--

  "Could do anything, most assuredly,--except, perhaps, get into troublewith the police. I have heard her say that only fools employ poison orthe dagger."

  A strange smile passed over his lips; and he added in a tone of horribleirony,--

  "It is true there are other means, less prompt, perhaps, but much safer,by which people may be removed when they become inconvenient.

  "What means? The same, no doubt, which she had employed to get ridof poor Kergrist, and that unlucky Malgat, the cashier of the MutualDiscount Society. Purely moral means, based upon her thorough knowledgeof the character of her victims, and her own infernal power over them."

  But Daniel tried in vain to obtain more light from his friend. Brevananswered evasively; perhaps because he did not dare to speak out freely,and reveal his real thoughts; or because it lay in his plans tobe content with having added this horrible fear to all the otherapprehensions of his friend.

  His embarrassment, just now unmistakable, had entirely disappeared, asif he had come to a final decision after long hesitation. He who hadfirst advised all kinds of concessions now suggested the most energeticresistance, and seemed to be confident of success.

  When he at last left Daniel, he had made him promise to keep him hourby hour informed of all that might happen, and, above all, to try everymeans in his power to unmask Miss Brandon.

  "How he hates her!" said Daniel to himself when he was alone,--"how hehates her!"

  But this very hatred, which had already troubled him the night before,now disturbed him more and more, and kept him from coming to anydecision. The more he reflected, the more it seemed to him that Maximehad allowed himself to be carried away beyond what was probable, oreven possible. The last accusation, especially, seemed to him perfectlymonstrous.

  A young and beautiful woman, consumed by ambition and covetousness,might possibly play a comedy of pure love while she was disgusted in herheart. She might catch by vile tricks a foolish old man, and make himmarry her, openly and avowedly selling her beauty and her youth. Suchthings happen, and are excused by the morality of our day. The samewicked, heartless woman might speculate upon becoming speedily a widow,and thus regaining her lib
erty, together with a large fortune. This alsohappens, however horrible it may appear. But that she should marry apoor old fool, with the preconceived purpose of hastening his end by adeliberate crime, there was a depth in that wickedness which terrifiedDaniel's imagination.

  Deeply ensconced in his chair, he was losing himself in conjectures,forgetting how time passed, and how his work was waiting for him, eventhe invitation to dinner which the count had given to him, and theprospect of being introduced that very evening to Miss Brandon. Nightcame; and then only his concierge, who came in to see what had become ofhim all day long, aroused him from his torpor.

  "Ah, I am losing my senses!" he exclaimed, rising suddenly. "AndHenrietta, who has been waiting for me--what must she think of me?"

  Miss Ville-Handry, at that very moment, had reached that degree ofanxiety which becomes well-nigh intolerable. After having waited forDaniel all the evening of the day before, and after having spent asleepless night, she had surely expected him to-day, counting theseconds by the beating of her heart, and starting at the noise of everycarriage in the street. In her despair, knowing hardly what she wasdoing, she was thinking of running herself to University Street, toDaniel's house, when the door opened.

  In the same indifferent tone in which he announced friends and enemies,the servant said,--

  "M. Daniel Champcey."

  Henrietta was up in a moment. She was about to exclaim,--

  "What has kept you? What has happened?" But the words died away on herlips.

  It had been sufficient for her to look at Daniel's sad face to feel thata great misfortune had befallen her.

  "Ah! you had been right in your fears," she said, sinking into a chair.

  "Alas!"

  "Speak: let me know all."

  "Your father has come to me, and offered me your hand, Henrietta,provided I can obtain your consent to his marriage with Miss Brandon.Now, listen to me; and then you can decide."

  Faithful to his promise, he thereupon told her every thing he hadlearned from Maxime and the count, suppressing only those details whichwould have made the poor girl blush, and also that terrible charge whichhe was unwilling to believe.

  When he had ended, Henrietta said warmly,--

  "What! I should allow my father to marry such a creature? I should sitstill and smile when such dishonor and such ruin are coming to a houseover which my mother has presided! No; far be it from me ever to be soselfish! I shall oppose Miss Brandon's plans with all my strength andall my energy."

  "She may triumph, after all."

  "She shall not triumph over my resistance and my contempt. Never--do youhear me, Daniel?--never will I bow down before her. Never shall my handtouch hers. And, if my father persists, I shall ask him, the day beforehis wedding, to allow me to bury myself in a convent."

  "He will not let you go."

  "Then I shall shut myself up in my room, and never leave it again. I donot think they will drag me out by force."

  There was no mistaking it; she spoke with an earnestness and adetermination which nothing could shake or break. And yet the verysaddest presentiments oppressed Daniel's heart. He said,--

  "But Miss Brandon will certainly not come alone to this house."

  "Whom will she bring with her?"

  "Her relatives, M. Thomas Elgin and Mrs. Brian. Oh Henrietta, dearestHenrietta! to think that you should be exposed to the spite and thepersecution of these wretches!"

  She raised her head proudly, and replied,--

  "I am not afraid of them." Then she added in a gentler tone,--

  "Besides, won't you always be near me, to advise me, and to protect mein case of danger?"

  "I? Don't you think they will try to part us soon enough?"

  "No, Daniel, I know very well that the house will no longer be open toyou."

  "Well?"

  The poor girl blushed up to the roots of her hair, and, turning her.eyes away from him to avoid his looks, she said,--

  "Since they force us to do so, I must needs do a thing a girl, properlyspeaking, ought not to do. We will meet secretly. I shall have to stoopto win over one of my waiting-women, who may be discreet and obligingenough to aid me, and, through her, I will write to you, and receiveyour letters."

  But this arrangement did not relieve Daniel from his terribleapprehensions. There was a question which constantly rose to his lips,and which still he did not dare to utter. At last, making a greateffort, he asked,--

  "And then?"

  Henrietta understood perfectly what he meant. She answered,--

  "I thought you would be able to wait until the day should come when thelaw would authorize me to make my own choice."

  "Henrietta!"

  She offered him her hand, and said solemnly,--

  "And on that day, Daniel, I promise you, if my father still withholdshis consent, I will ask you openly for your arm; and then, in broaddaylight, before all the world, I shall leave this house never tore-enter it again."

  As quick as thought, Daniel had seized her hand, and, carrying it to hislips, he said,--"Thanks! A thousand thanks! You restore me to hope."

  Still, before abandoning the effort, he thought he would try one moremeasure; and for that purpose it was necessary that Henrietta should beinduced to conceal her intentions as long as possible. It was only withgreat difficulty that he succeeded in obtaining her consent.

  "I will do what you desire; but believe me, all your efforts will be invain."

  She was interrupted by the arrival of Count Ville-Handry. He kissedhis daughter, said a few words about rain and fine weather; and then,drawing Daniel into one of the windows, he asked--

  "Have you spoken to her?"

  "Yes."

  "Well?"

  "Miss Henrietta wants a few days to consider."

  The count looked displeased, and said,--

  "That is absurd. Nothing can be more ridiculous. But, after all, it isyour business, my dear Daniel. And, if you want any additional motive,I will tell you that my daughter is very rich. She has a quarter of amillion of her own."

  "Sir!" exclaimed Daniel indignantly.

  But Count Ville-Handry had already turned upon his heels; and the butlercame to announce that dinner was on the table.

  The meal, though excellent in itself, was necessarily very dull andsad. It was promptly despatched; for the count seemed to be sitting onneedles, and every minute looked at his watch.

  They had but just handed the coffee around, when he turned to Daniel,saying,--

  "Let us make haste. Miss Brandon expects us."

  Daniel was instantly ready. But the count did not even give him time totake leave of Henrietta; he carried him off to his carriage, pushed himin, jumped in after him, and called out to the servant,--"Circus Street!Miss Brandon! Drive fast!"