The Comte returned in due course. The affair was over and the verdict was that the cause of death was the overdose of a sleeping draught which contained opium in excessive quantities. The Comtesse was discovered to have suffered from a disease of the lungs a disease from which it was recalled her mother had died. Doctors had visited her recently and had expressed their certainty that she was suffering from this disease in its early stages. If the Comtesse had known of this she would also have known that later she would have to endure great pain. The most likely verdict was that, knowing this, she had taken her own life by drinking a large quantity of a sleeping draught which she had been taking in small doses for some time, and which when taken thus could produce gentle sleep and be quite harmless.
The day he returned Nou-Nou paid one of her visits to my bedroom. She seemed to take a delight in my discomfiture.
“So,” she said, ‘you think this is the end of the matter, do you.
Mademoiselle? “
“The law is satisfied,” I said.
The law! Who is the law? Who has always been the law? He has . he and his kind. One law for the rich . one for the poor. That’s what the trouble’s about. He has his friends . all over the place. ” She stepped nearer to me.
“He came to me and he threatened me. He said:
“Stop your scandalous gossip, Nou-Nou. If you don’t you can get out.
And where would you go then, tell me that? Do you want to be sent away away from the rooms where she lived . away from her tomb where you can weep and revel in your mourning? ” Yes, that’s what he said. I said to him:
“You were there. You came into the room. You were with her. And then that woman came, didn’t she? Did she come to see if you’d done what you planned together? …”
“Stop it, Nou-Nou,” I said.
“You know I came because she said she wanted to see me. You yourself brought the message. She was already asleep when he left.”
“You saw him go, didn’t you? You came in … just as he was going. Oh, it’s a strange business, I’d say.”
“It’s not strange at all, Nou-Nou,” I said firmly.
“And you know it.”
She looked startled.
“What is it you’re so sure of?”
“I know this,” I replied.
“The verdict has been given. I believe it because it is the only possible one.”
She started to laugh wildly. I took her arm and shook it.
“Nou-Nou, go back to your room. Try to rest. Try to be calm. This is a terrible tragedy, but it is over and no good can come by dwelling on it.”
“It’s over for some,” she said mournfully.
“Life is over for some … for mignon ne and her old Nou-Nou. Others think it is just beginning for them perhaps.”
I shook my head angrily and she sat down suddenly and covered her face with her hands.
After a while she allowed me to take her back to her room.
It was I who found the stone with the paper attached to it. It was lying in the corridor outside my bedroom. I saw first that the window had been smashed and there on the floor was this object.
I picked it up. It was a heavy stone and stuck on it was the piece of paper. On this was written in uneven script: “Aristocrat. You murdered your wife but it is one law for the rich, one for the poor. Take heed.
Your time will come. “
I stood there for some horrified seconds with the paper in my hand.
Perhaps it was wrong of me but I always made quick decisions, though not always the right ones. I decided then that no one in the castle should see that paper.
I put the stone back on the floor and took the paper into my bedchamber. I spread it out and studied it. The writing was uneven but I had a notion that an attempt had been made to convey the impression of near-illiteracy. I felt the paper. It was strong stout stuff. Not the kind which poor people would use to write their letters on, even if they could write. It was of a shade of blue so pale as to be almost white.
There was a bureau in my bedroom and in this were sheets of notepaper headed with the address of the castle in elegant gold letters. The paper was of the same texture as the notepaper used in the castle. It could have been torn off from a piece of this.
There must be something significant in this. Could it be possible that someone in the castle was the Comte’s bitter enemy?
I thought, as I always did at times like this, of my mother. I could almost hear her saying to me: “Get out. There’s danger all around you.
You have already become embroiled in this household and it must stop without delay. Go back to’j England.
Take a post as companion . governess . or; better still open a school. “
She is right, I thought, I am becoming too much affected by the Comte.
He has cast a spell on me in some way. I was trying not to believe that he had slipped the fatal dose into the Comtesse’s glass, but I could not with honesty say that I did not doubt him.
Margot was at the door.
“Another stone has been thrown through a window,” she announced.
“It’s just outside here.”
I rose and went to look at it.
Margot shrugged her shoulders.
“Stupid people. What do they think they are going to achieve by that?”
She was not deeply affected. This sort of thing was becoming a commonplace.
The Comte sent for Margot and me. He looked older, sterner than he had before his wife’s death.
“I want you to leave for Paris tomorrow,” he said.
“I think that would be best. I have had a note from the Grassevilles. They would like you to visit them but I think it better that you stay in my Paris residence. You are in mourning. The Grassevilles will visit you there.
You can shop for what you need. ” He turned to me suddenly.
“I rely on you to look after Marguerite.”
I wondered whether I should tell him of the note which had come through the window attached to the stone but I felt it would only add to his anxieties and I did not care to mention it before Margot. I hoped to see him alone before I left, but I realized that he was aware how closely we were watched. He would know too that it was being said he had escaped justice because he had friends in high places.
I went to my room to make my preparations. I took the piece of paper from the drawer and looked at it, wondering what I should do. I could not leave it and yet what if I took it with me and mislaid it? I made one of my sudden decisions. I tore it into scraps and taking it down to the hall where a fire was burning, I threw it in. I watched the flames curl about the blackened edges. It seemed to form itself into a malevolent face and I was immediately reminded
The Waiting City of that one I had seen outside the window on the night of the ball.
Leon! And the paper which might have come from the castle!
It was quite impossible. Leon would never be a traitor to the man who had done so much for him. I was so upset by recent events that my imagination was getting out or hand.
We left early soon after dawn.
The Comte came down to the courtyard to see us off. He held my hand firmly in his and said: “Take care of my daughter … and yourself.”
Then he added: “Be patient.”
I knew what he meant and that remark filled me with excitement, apprehension and foreboding.
The Waiting City
I
Paris! What a city of enchantment. If I could have been there in other circumstances, how I should have loved it. My mother and I used to talk of the various places in the world we should like to visit and high on our list had been Paris.
It was a queen of cities, full of beauty and ugliness, living side by side. When I studied the maps I thought that the island in the Seine on which the city stood was like a cradle in shape and when I pointed this out to Margot she was only mildly interested.
“A cradle,” I said.
“It’s significant
. In this cradle beauty was reared. Francois Premier with his love of fine buildings, with his devotion to literature, music and artists laid the foundations of the most intellectual court of Europe.”
Trust you to make it sound like a history lesson t’ retorted Margot.
“Well now, revolution is being reared in your cradle.”
I was startled. It was unlike her to talk seriously.
“Those stones which were thrown at the chateau,” she went on, “I keep thinking of them. Ten years ago they wouldn’t have dared … and now we dare do nothing about it. Change is coming, Minelle. You can feel it all around you.”
I could feel it. In those streets where the crowds jostled, where the vendors shouted their wares. I had the feeling of a waiting city.
The Comte’s residence was in the Faubourg Saint-HonorS among those of other members of the nobility. They stood, these houses, where they had for two to three hundred years, aloof and elegant. Not far away, I was to discover, was that labyrinth of little streets into which one dared not venture unless accompanied by several strong men-evil-smelling, i narrow, cobbled, where lurked those who regarded any stranger as a victim. We went into them on one occasion accompanied by Bessell and another manservant. Margot had insisted. There was the S street of the women who sat at the doors, their faces ludicrously painted, their low-cut dresses deliberately revealing. I remembered the names of the streets. Rue aux Feves, Rue de j la Jouverie, Rue de la Colandre, Rue. des Marmousets. They were the streets of the women and the dyers and outside many of the houses stood great tubs in which the dyes were mixed red, blue and green dye flowed down the gutters like miniature rivers.
My room in the Comte’s hotel was even more elegant than that which I had occupied in the chateau. It overlooked beautiful gardens which were tended by a host of gardeners. There were greenhouses in which exotic blooms flourished and these were used to decorate the rooms.
Margot’s room was next to mine. I arranged it,” she told me.
“And Mimi is in the ante-room. Bessell is with the grooms.”
I had forgotten till then our plan which involved these two. In fact I had never really taken it seriously and she did not mention it until we had been in Paris two or three days.
The Comte and Comtesse de Grasseville called on our first day. Margot, as the hostess, did the honours very graciously, I thought. She walked in the gardens with them and they were all very solemn. As the Comte had reminded us, we were in mourning.
I wondered then whether this meant a postponement of the wedding and came to the conclusion that this must be so.
I was presented to the Comte and Comtesse. Their manner was a little aloof and I wondered if they had heard rumours about my position in the Comte’s household.
I spoke to Margot about this later.
She said she had noticed nothing and they had spoken very kindly of me.
“We talked about the wedding,” she said, ‘and by rights we should wait a year. I don’t know whether we shall. But I shall go on as though there will be no postponement. “
There was shopping to be done. Mimi always accompanied us with Bessell and if we went in the carriage there would be a footman as well.
Sometimes we went on foot and that I enjoyed most. We all dressed very quietly for these expeditions, though none of us mentioned this.
I shall never forget the smell of Paris. There seemed to be more mud there than in any other city. It was black mud and there were metal fragments in it. If one of these touched one’s garments it would make a hole. I remembered that the old Roman name for Paris was Lutetia which meant Mud Town, and I was surprised it had been so called. In the streets boys stood around with brooms to sweep a crossing for those pedestrians who were ready to pay a sou for the service.
I liked to see the way in which the city came alive as it did each morning at seven o’clock when the clerks, neatly dressed, would be going to work, and one or two gardeners could be seen wheeling their barrows into the markets. Gradually the town would put on its bustling and exciting vitality. I told Margot it reminded me of the dawn chorus of the birds. A little stirring, then a little more and so on, adding up to the full song.
She was a little impatient of my enthusiasm. After all, she had known Paris for so long and as with many things that are familiar one ceases to be aware of them.
But how thrilling it was to see the various trades waking up to the day. The barbers, covered in flour with which they powdered the wigs, the lemonade shops opening their doors while the waiters came out with their trays of hot coffee and rolls to be served to those in the surrounding houses who had ordered them the night before. Later members of the legal profession appeared like black crows in their flapping robes on their way to the Chatelet and the other courts.
Dinner was at three o’clock in fashionable circles and it amused me to see the dandies and the ladies-some in carriages but some on foot-picking their careful way through the mud on their way to their hosts. Then the streets were! full of noise and clamour which died down during the dinner! interval to awaken again about five o’clock when the leisured i crowd was making its way to the playhouses or the pleasure gardens.
I wanted to see everything, which Margot thought very I childish. She did not know that the need to overlay my I anxiety about what might be happening back at the chateau i was at the heart of my determination to learn all I could :
about this stimulating, wonderful city.
Looking back, how glad I was that I saw it then. It was never to be quite the same again.
We shopped. What an array of good things there were in,-‘ those shops!
Their windows were dazzling. Gowns, ready;
made, materials for sale, mantles, pelisses, muffs, ribbons,
laces. They were a joy to behold. The hats were perhaps the ;
most striking of all. Following the fashions set by the Queen, they were both extravagant and outrageous. Rose Bertin, i her dressmaker, made for a few favoured people. She graciously consented to make something for the daughter of the Comte Fontaine Delibes.
“I should go to someone who is more eager to serve you,” I said.
“You don’t understand, Minelle. It means something to be dressed by Rose Bertin.”
So we went to her for Margot’s fitting. She kept us waiting for an hour and then sent a message to the effect that we must return next day.
As we came out I noticed a little group of people standing on the corner. They muttered and watched us sullenly as we got into the carriage.
Yes, Paris was certainly an uneasy city. But I was too bemused by its beauty and too stunned by what had happened at the chateau to notice as I otherwise would-and Margot’s thoughts were elsewhere.
I was gratified to see that England appeared to be held in great respect. It was as Gabrielle LeGrand had said. The shops were full of clothes proclaiming to be made of English cloth. Signs announced that English was spoken within, in the windows of the shops was written Le Punch Anglais, and in all the cafes it was possible to take lethe.
Even the tall vehicles were called whiskies and an imitation of those used in England.
I was amused and I must say somewhat flattered. And in the shops I made no attempt to disguise the fact that, like so many of their products, I came from across the Channel.
We were buying some beautiful satin one day which was to be made into a dress for Margot’s trousseau when the man who was serving us leaned across the counter and looking at me earnestly said: “Mademoiselle is from England?”
I agreed that this was so.
“Mademoiselle should go home,” he said.
“Lose no time.”
I looked at him in surprise and he went on: “Any day the storm will break. Today, tomorrow, next week, next year. And when it comes none will be spared. You should go while there is time.”
Cold fear touched me then. There had been so many pointers, I could see that everyone around me was trying not to see them but there had to
be uncomfortable moments when they could not be avoided.
This was indeed a waiting city.
We walked out into the sunshine and our steps led us to the Cour du Mai. I could not forget the shop man warning; and as I walked it seemed to me that a terrible foreboding of the future came to me.
I was to remember it there in the Cour du Mai later on.
Margot came to my room. There was a sparkle in her eyes and she was very flushed.
“It’s all arranged,” she said.
“We are going to see Yvette.”
“Who is Yvette?”
“Don’t be deliberately obstructive, Minelle. I have told you about Yvette. She used to work with Nou-Nou in the nursery. She lives in the country-not so very far from where I lost Chariot.”
“My dear Margot, you are not still thinking of looking for him.”
“Of course I am. Do you think I would let him go and never know what has happened to him? I must content myself that he is well and happy . and not missing me.”
“As he was only a few weeks old when you parted from him, he could hardly be expected to know you.”
“Of course he’ll know me. I’m his mother.”
“Oh Margot, you must not be so foolish. You must put i unfortunate episode behind you. You have been lucky. Yo have a fiance whom you like very well. He will be kind a good to you.”
“Oh, don’t set yourself up as an oracle. You’re not t schoolmistress now, you know. You promised we would to find him. Are you a breaker of promises?”
I was silent. It was true I had promised when I though! she was on the verge of hysteria, but I had never really taken the plan seriously. “I have it all worked out,” she explained.
“I shall go to vis iA my old nurse Yvette. I want to tell her that I am betrothed to Robert. Mimi and Bessell will accompany us, and we shall take the carriage. We shall stay at inns and travel aj little each day and as we are going back to that neighbourhood I shall become Madame Ie Brun. It will be a sort of’l masquerade. I have told Mimi that it is better not to travel as my father’s daughter because of the recent scandal about) my mother’s death and the mood of the people. She is pleased;;
The Devil on Horseback Page 21