CHAPTER XXXV.
I was sitting musing in my room, about an hour after supper, when thedoor opened, and Father Ferdinand appeared. He was evidently a gooddeal agitated, and seemed scarcely able to speak to me.
"My son," he said, taking both my hands, and gazing anxiously in myface,--"my son, I am afraid you have done wrong."
I understood him at once, and replied, "No, father, I have not; unlessto struggle against every feeling of my heart, which prompted me toingratitude and deceit,--unless, I say, to struggle against suchfeelings be evil,--I have not done wrong."
He raised his right hand, while he still held mine in his left,saying, solemnly,--"Thank God for that. I at least have acted wrong,"he added: "I once gave you hope without clearly knowing whither thathope might lead you. I now know all; and, I tell you, you mustdespair."
"Father," I replied, "I have never entertained a hope. I knew that youwere unacquainted with my situation, and the dreams you raised lastedbut half an hour."
"Forgive me for having raised them at all," he said; "and now, markme; you must speak with Monsieur de Villardin----Nay, indeed you must:he already expects you. Give me but five minutes to speak with himmore at length, and then follow me to the library."
I would fain have asked more: I would fain have discovered what, orrather how much, Monsieur de Villardin knew; but there were so manycontending emotions in my bosom that I was afraid my voice would bechoked ere I could put my questions, and I merely replied, "I will."
Without rejoinder, Father Ferdinand left me; and, burying my face onmy arms, I remained in the same state of mind as a condemned criminalwho has just heard an order given for his instant execution. I was notone, however, to shake before any mortal man. I felt, too, that withthe power to have won happiness for myself by wronging him I was justabout to see, I had sacrificed my own peace rather than actungratefully towards him. This feeling nerved my heart for whatevermight come, and by the time that the five minutes were over, I wasslowly descending the great staircase towards the library. I knew nothow Monsieur de Villardin would treat me, and I almost feared, fromsome casual traits which I had remarked in his character, that hemight demean himself haughtily towards me. Such a method was not thatcalculated to govern or affect one of my disposition; and, as I passedthrough the saloon, and crossed the very spot where I had seen Madamede Villardin stand with the Count de Mesnil, a number of serviceswhich at different times I had rendered to the Duke rose up before myeyes, and I advanced with a firmer step, from feeling that the balanceof obligation was not altogether against myself. As I passed by themirrors, I saw that I was deadly pale; but I could not help that; and,opening the door, I entered the library with more command over myselfthan I had thought I could assume.
Monsieur de Villardin was alone, and striding up and down the room ina state of agitation that it is impossible to describe. He was at thefarther end of the chamber when I entered, but immediately turnedround and paused for a moment, gazing upon me with a quivering lip. Itook a step or two more forward, and then waited for him to begin; buthe said nothing, and, advancing rapidly towards me, threw his armsaround me as if I had been his child, exclaiming--"Oh! De Juvigny!"
It overpowered me at once: pride--and resolution, and firmness, allgave way; and I wept like a woman, while he mingled his tears withmine.
"This is too much," said Monsieur de Villardin. "Sit down, my dearboy, and let us speak as calmly as possible over an event that hasmade me more wretched than you can conceive."
Casting myself into the seat opposite to that in which he usually sat,I leaned my head forward upon the table, and suffered him to proceed,while feelings that defy all language struggled fearfully in my bosom.
"De Juvigny," he said, in a low, earnest voice, "my friend, mybenefactor, my more than son--twice have you saved my life, once haveyou saved my child, ever have you counselled me aright even as aboy--you have watched my couch of sickness, you have calmed me in themoment of passion, you have laboured to prevent me from committingcrime, you have striven to sooth the voice of remorse, you have soughtfar and near to find consolation for my grief--and now, what is it Iam called to do? I have to make you miserable. I have to inflict uponyou the bitterest pangs that a heart like yours can suffer. I have todeny you the only gift which could fittingly recompense the benefitsyou have conferred upon me; and all this, because I foolishly engagedmyself by a promise, ere I knew how much misery it would cause tofulfil it. Believe me, my dear boy,--believe me, upon my honour,--thatwere it not for that promise, I would set all the world's maxims ofpride, and ambition, and avarice at nought: and, knowing none soworthy or so noble as yourself, would bestow upon you my sweet childas contentedly as if you were a king:--but oh! De Juvigny, thatpromise--that fatal promise!"
I did not forget that he had made me, too, a promise in former years,to grant me any boon that I might ask; and the idea certainly hadcrossed my mind, as I had descended to the library, to demand itsexecution now. But he had met me so differently from the manner inwhich I had expected to be met, that all my feelings were changed in amoment; and, as he spoke, I could make no reply; for his generouskindness shook and agitated mc far more than if he had piled upon myhead the bitterest of reproaches.
"Our excellent friend, Father Ferdinand," continued Monsieur deVillardin, "has pointed out to me the cause of all your conductduring the last campaign. Strange your behaviour certainly hasappeared in my eyes; and, if I remember right, the change took placewhen I told you of the promise I had given, and gave you news thatmust have blasted all your hopes for ever."
"My lord, I never entertained a hope," I replied. "Although, Ibelieve, without boldness, I may say that my race is as noble as yourown, yet I came before you as an exiled adventurer, without home,without country, without fortune; and most presumptuous would it havebeen for me to entertain a hope under such circumstances. The changein my conduct, or rather the end of my happiness for life, took placeas soon as I discovered what were the feelings which I had beennourishing in my bosom. It did, perhaps, add somewhat to the load, toknow that Mademoiselle de Villardin was destined to wed a man she didnot love; but that knowledge destroyed no hopes, for I had entertainednone."
Monsieur de Villardin gazed upon me thoughtfully for several minutes,and then said,--"De Juvigny, I am almost afraid to ask you; yetanswer me sincerely, and fear not that I shall blame you, for I havebeen too faulty a being myself to have any title to chide with otherswhere passion is concerned. Tell me, is Laura acquainted with yourfeelings towards her?"
"She is so now, my lord," I answered; "but such was not the case tillour return from the last campaign."
"You have done wrong, De Juvigny," he said, speaking mournfully, butnot harshly; "you have done wrong: but still, as I have said, I haveno right to blame you, for I look upon myself as the cause of all thisunhappiness. I should have been upon my guard; I should have knownthat such an intimacy could not go on without ending as it has done;and I should have taken measures either to warn you yourself, or tomake you happy. I blame you not, therefore, however great might havebeen the relief to know that Laura was unacquainted with feelings thatcannot be gratified."
"Believe me, my lord," I answered, "I never intended that she shouldbe made acquainted with those feelings, and that the discovery of themwas entirely accidental. You will do me the justice, too, I am sure,to feel confident that my opportunities of seeing and conversing withMademoiselle de Villardin have never been employed to make her forgether duty towards you. On the contrary, our whole thoughts have beenturned to the means of overcoming a passion that we felt to behopeless."
"There is but one means, De Juvigny," replied Monsieur deVillardin,--"there is but one way--to part. To know that I am boundto wound my daughter's happiness, as well as that of a man I lovebetter than if he were my own son, is bitter enough; but still itmust be done. My promise is given, and it must not only be heldinviolable, but I must show no hesitation in fulfilling it--no wishto evade its immediate
execution. You and Laura must part, DeJuvigny, and I am sure that on reflection you will find it is betterfor you both to do so at once. I trust--I hope--that this passionhas not yet obtained so deep a root in the bosom of either, as notto yield to the power of reason and the effect of time and absence."
I shook my head, for I felt that such could not be the case; but atthe same time I replied,--"It will be better for us to part, I doindeed believe, my lord; for, however vain it is to hope that I shallever forget, yet my stay here serves no good purpose, and only rendersmyself and her I love more miserable. I am ready to set out even thisvery night, if you think fit."
"No, no," he said, hastily; "not so, my dear boy: you must not quit mydwelling as one in disgrace! That I cannot suffer!--especially when Ifeel that I owe you atonement for having exposed you to so muchunhappiness, as well as deep gratitude and affection for all that youhave done for me and mine. No,--your departure must be as that of awell-beloved son, honoured, esteemed, and regretted; and your fortunemust be rendered equal to maintain a high station in society, and toobtain for you a ready acceptance from the friends of any one on whomyou may hereafter place your affection."
The feelings in my heart were too bitter to permit of my making anyreply for some minutes, but I answered at length,--"I will appeal toyour own heart, my lord, whether those who have loved deeply and trulyever love twice. But that matters not. In the present instance, youmust permit me to decline any farther gift. I am proud to believethat, on some occasions, I have rendered your lordship services ofsome importance; and deeply gratified to find that you value them at ahigher rate even than they deserve. But if, as you are pleased to say,you owe me some gratitude, I owe you infinitely more; and though Ilove you too deeply and too sincerely to offer to restore those thingswhich you formerly bestowed upon me, yet I can accept no more,especially at a moment like this."
"I will not press you then now," replied Monsieur de Villardin; "butwe are not going to part for ever, De Juvigny, and when we meet again,I shall insist upon that which I wave for the present. But tell me, inthe meantime, what you intend to do with yourself; for of course myinterest in you remains not only unabated, but increased, from allthat has occurred."
"Oh! fear not, my lord," I replied, the bitterness of my heartmastering me in spite of all my efforts, and drawing from me but anungrateful return for the kindness of Monsieur de Villardin; "fearnot, my lord; I shall do well enough. When I first touched the shoresof France, my worldly situation was much less brilliant than it is atpresent, though I had, indeed, a lighter heart. I have now lands andlordships, and a regiment in the service of the King of France. Whatneed I more?"
"I will tell you, De Juvigny," replied Monsieur de Villardin, layinghis hand kindly upon my arm, and speaking mildly, though somewhatreproachfully; "I will tell you what you need more than all:--a friendand companion, who will sooth your sorrows, will divert your griefsfrom preying on your own mind, will point out topics of consolation,will persuade you to think well of those who love you, will endeavourto make you feel less acutely what it may be impossible to forget,and, in short, will act towards you in your sorrows the part which youacted towards me in mine. It grieves me that I cannot be the man to doso myself; but if you will follow my advice, you will seek out yourfriend Lord Masterton, and, from all I have ever heard of him, I thinkyou will find one who will take a deep interest, in your fate, andfeel the most sincere sympathy for all that afflicts you."
"No, no, my lord," I replied, "it cannot be. Lord Masterton, happy inhis wife and his family, shall not be disturbed by any sorrows ofmine; and, however selfish it may appear, I must confess that thesight of his domestic tranquillity would but render more painful theconsciousness that such a state can never be mine. There is nothingfit for my present frame of mind but solitude. I doubt not thatthought and reflection, before I am called upon to resume my duties inthe service, will enable me so far to conquer my regrets anddisappointment as to permit of my mingling in society, without muchpain to myself or any annoyance to others. In the meantime, however,if your lordship will permit me, I will retire either to Juvigny or toDumont, and spend a month or two there in perfect privacy. My littlepage Clement will furnish me with society and entertainment enough;and when, in the course of time," I added, struggling for as muchfirmness as I could command,--"and when, in the course of time, thelast irremediable seal is put to the destiny of Mademoiselle deVillardin and myself, as your lordship will probably be left alonefrom time to time, I shall hope to enjoy your society, when it can beno longer dangerous to myself, or inconsistent with your otherarrangements."
Without making any reply, Monsieur de Villardin took two or threeturns up and down the library, and then, sitting down again, hesaid,--"It is better, De Juvigny, to tell you my determination atonce. As my word must be fulfilled, and as I see no object whateverto be gained by delay, I have resolved that Laura shall give herhand to the Count de Laval as soon as it be possible to completethe necessary arrangements."
This was certainly a new pang, but I had already borne so much thatnight, that the very habit of suffering enabled me still to endure. Idid think that Monsieur de Villardin was wrong; I did think that itwas even cruel to afford his daughter no time for thought orconsideration, no time to compose her feelings, no time to prepare forthe future or to forget the past. Of course, however, it was not forme even to suggest an objection, and I merely bowed my head, whileMonsieur de Villardin went on. "As soon as the ceremony is over, Iwill write to you and let you know," he said; "and I hope that, fromthat moment, you will be able to come to me, and supply the place ofthe child from whom I am about to part. In the meantime, you must notcertainly set off till I have seen you to-morrow; and, let me beg you,my dear Juvigny," he added, grasping my hand, "let me beg of you tostrive for as much firmness as possible. Remember that, though myhonour is dearer to me than life itself, yet that I love you betterthan any other thing, and that to make you happy, I would sacrificeeverything--_but my honour_."
"I will do my best, my lord," I replied, "both to be and to appearfirm; and, whatever I now suffer--whatever I may hereafter have toundergo, your kindness and generosity towards me, in these, as in allother circumstances, will be the chief consolation, and the brightestremembrance that I have left."
Thus saying, I rose and turned towards the door; but ere I reached it,the remembrance that Laura knew nothing of what had taken place duringthat evening, and would expect me at our usual place of meeting,flashed across my mind, and somewhat embarrassed me. However, I couldnot entertain the thought for a moment, of showing the slightestingratitude or want of confidence to one who had just treated me withso much kindness and feeling; and, turning at the door, I againapproached Monsieur de Villardin, saying,--"You desire me, my lord,not to set out to-morrow ere I have seen you. Will you give me yourown directions as to how I am to behave towards Mademoiselle deVillardin?"
"I have the most perfect confidence in you, De Juvigny," he replied,"and can have no objection to your having one more interview with her,though of course that must be the last. See her--speak withher--endeavour to console her--use what arguments you may think meet.I rely entirely upon your honour to do all that you can to make heryield a willing consent to that arrangement for which her father hasplighted his word. You will doubtless find ready means to see her. Inthese respects I ask no questions in regard to the past; and for thefuture I trust entirely, as I have said, to your own honour."
We now separated; and, returning to my own apartments, I busied myselfwith thoughts too wild and confused to be remembered or transcribed. Ihad long seen and had long known, indeed, that such must be the resultof my love for Laura de Villardin. I had long seen that fate couldhave nothing else in store for me; but yet I do not think that, evenif I had been taken totally unprepared, I could have felt morebitterly--more terribly--the agony of sudden disappointment, than Inow felt the severing of the last tie between love and hope. If therewas anything in the whole which might have proved soothing,--if therewas anythi
ng on which my mind might have rested with pleasure, it wason the noble confidence which Monsieur de Villardin had shown towardsme; but even that was not without a pang, and the sting which itinflicted was bitterer than all: for I saw from his conduct now, thathad I, when first I discovered the passion that I entertained for hisdaughter, made him acquainted with it at once--had I, when we werejourneying on together towards Paris, poured out my whole feelingsinto his bosom, and confided in him, as perhaps I ought to have done,Laura might still have been mine, and a brighter destiny than everhope had pictured would have crowned the end of my career. Thus thenthe bitterest regret was added to the most acute disappointment. Thecup of happiness had been nearly at my lips; but, not knowing what itcontained, I had passed it by, and I felt too surely that it wouldnever come within my reach again.
I knew that such regrets were useless; I knew that nothing remainedfor me but to endure; I strove even to acquire strength from despair;but it was all in vain. Regret, disappointment, agony, mingled withevery thought, and every memory, and every expectation; and for anhour, I strode up and down in a state of mind that I shall not attemptany farther to depict. At the end of that time, there was a light tapat my door, and the next moment, Laura's maid, Lise, entered the room.My agitation was sufficiently apparent, and would probably havebetrayed what had occurred, even had not the soubrette been partiallyaware before that some sort of a discovery had taken place.
"Ah! Monsieur le Baron," she said, as soon as she saw me, "I see howit is all going. I have been watching all the evening, and havelearned enough from the going to and fro, to perceive that monseigneurhas discovered it all, and that unless you will follow my advice, youand Mademoiselle will be unhappy for ever."
"And, pray, what is your advice, my good Lise?" I demanded; "the Dukehas indeed discovered all, but that makes very little difference inregard to our situation. But say, what is your advice?"
"Why, it is simply this," replied the waiting woman; "that you comedirectly to Mademoiselle's chamber, and persuade her to set off withyou to Rennes. My good friend, Father Martin, will perform theceremony, as he promised me he would, not a week ago. Degville, thenotary, will draw up the contract, and for a couple of thousand francsto a priest and a lawyer, you will get the sweetest lady in allBrittany, and the one that loves you best."
It is not impossible that, had Monsieur de Villardin said one harsh orunkind word to me, had he treated me with pride or with indignity, hemight have lost his daughter; and I, teaching myself to believe thatevery stratagem is honourable in love, might have embraced the planwhich Lise, in her love for the romantic, had laid out, and might havemade Laura de Villardin my bride before the next morning. The state ofBrittany at that time, and the lax administration of the law, bothcivil and ecclesiastical, so greatly facilitated any scheme of thekind, that I well knew it was perfectly practicable; but my mind wasso completely made up as to the course which I was bound in honour topursue--the whole of my good feelings were so strongly arrayed againstthe persuasions of passion, that the proposal made by Lise did noteven tempt me for a moment. It was unnecessary, however, to tell herall that had passed; and, assuming as much calmness as I could, Ireplied,--"No, no, Lise, such a course is quite unnecessary. Do notagitate your mistress, I beseech you, by telling her that anything hasoccurred in the ch?teau to disturb the usual course of events; but begher to let me see her to-morrow in the same place in which we haveusually met."
Lise gazed at me with some surprise. "Will they let you see her,then?" she demanded: "are you sure of being able to come?"
"Quite sure, Lise," I replied; "so tell her what I bid you; and takethis ring," I added, giving her one that I had bought in Paris, "andkeep it as a remembrance of me hereafter."
"It is a very pretty ring," replied Lise, taking it, "and I will keepit for your sake with all my heart; but, nevertheless, I would muchrather that you had given another of a different kind to my mistressthis very night. However, I suppose, Monsieur le Baron, you know yourown business best, and so I shall meddle no more."
Thus saying, Lise took her leave, and left me to pass as miserable anight as ever wretch yet spent upon the face of this earth.
The Little Ball O' Fire; or, the Life and Adventures of John Marston Hall Page 35