Le collier de la reine. English

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  THE BALL AT THE OPERA.

  The ball was at its height when they glided in quietly, and were soonlost in the crowd. A couple had taken refuge from the pressure under thequeen's box; one of them wore a white domino and the other a black one.They were talking with great animation. "I tell you, Oliva," said theblack domino, "that I am sure you are expecting some one. Your head isno longer a head, but a weather cock, and turns round to look afterevery newcomer."

  "Well, is it astonishing that I should look at the people, when that iswhat I came here for?"

  "Oh, that is what you came for!"

  "Well, sir, and for what do people generally come?"

  "A thousand things."

  "Men perhaps, but women only for one--to see and be seen by as manypeople as possible."

  "Mademoiselle Oliva!"

  "Oh, do not speak in that big voice, it does so frighten me; and aboveall, do not call me by name; it is bad taste to let every one here knowwho you are."

  The black domino made an angry gesture; it was interrupted by a bluedomino who approached them.

  "Come, monsieur," said he, "let madame amuse herself; it is not everynight one comes to a ball at the Opera."

  "Meddle with your own affairs," replied Beausire, rudely.

  "Monsieur, learn once for all that a little courtesy is never out ofplace."

  "I do not know you," he replied, "and do not want to have anything to dowith you."

  "No, you do not know me; but I know you, M. Beausire."

  At hearing his name thus pronounced, Beausire visibly trembled.

  "Oh, do not be afraid, M. Beausire; I am not what you take me for."

  "Pardieu! sir, do you guess thoughts, as well as names?"

  "Why not?"

  "Then tell me what I thought. I have never seen a sorcerer, and shouldfind it amusing."

  "Oh, what you ask is not difficult enough to entitle me to that name."

  "Never mind--tell."

  "Well, then! you took me for an agent of M. de Crosne."

  "M. de Crosne!" he repeated.

  "Yes; the lieutenant of police."

  "Sir!"

  "Softly, M. de Beausire, you really look as if you were feeling for yoursword."

  "And so I was, sir."

  "Good heavens! what a warlike disposition; but I think, dear M.Beausire, you left your sword at home, and you did well. But to speak ofsomething else, will you relinquish to me madame for a time?"

  "Give you up madame?"

  "Yes, sir; that is not uncommon, I believe, at a ball at the Opera."

  "Certainly not, when it suits the gentleman."

  "It suffices sometimes that it should please the lady."

  "Do you ask it for a long time?"

  "Really, M. Beausire, you are too curious. Perhaps for tenminutes--perhaps for an hour--perhaps for all the evening."

  "You are laughing at me, sir."

  "Come, reply; will you or not?"

  "No, sir."

  "Come, come, do not be ill-tempered, you who were so gentle just now."

  "Just now?"

  "Yes; at the Rue Dauphine."

  Oliva laughed.

  "Hold your tongue, madame," said Beausire.

  "Yes," continued the blue domino, "where you were on the point ofkilling this poor lady, but stopped at the sight of some louis."

  "Oh, I see; you and she have an understanding together."

  "How can you say such a thing?" cried Oliva.

  "And if it were so," said the stranger, "it is all for your benefit."

  "For my benefit! that would be curious."

  "I will prove to you that your presence here is as hurtful as yourabsence would be profitable. You are a member of a certain academy, notthe Academie Francaise, but in the Rue du Pot au Fer, in the secondstory, is it not, my dear M. Beausire?"

  "Hush!" said Beausire.

  The blue domino drew out his watch, which was studded with diamonds thatmade Beausire's eyes water to look at them. "Well!" continued he, "in aquarter of an hour they are going to discuss there a little project, bywhich, they hope to secure 2,000,000 francs among the twelve members, ofwhom you are one, M. Beausire."

  "And you must be another; if you are not----"

  "Pray go on."

  "A member of the police."

  "Oh, M. Beausire, I thought you had more sense. If I were of the police,I should have taken you long ago, for some little affairs less honorablethan this speculation."

  "So, sir, you wish to send me to the Rue du Pot au Fer: but I knowwhy--that I may be arrested there: I am not such a fool."

  "Now, you are one. If I wanted to arrest you, I had only to do it, and Iam rid of you at once; but gentleness and persuasion are my maxims."

  "Oh, I know now," said Beausire, "you are the man that was on the sofatwo hours ago."

  "What sofa?"

  "Never mind; you have induced me to go, and if you are sending a gallantman into harm, you will pay for it some day."

  "Be tranquil," said the blue domino, laughing; "by sending you there, Igive you 100,000 francs at least, for you know the rule of this societyis, that whoever is absent loses his share."

  "Well, then, good-by!" said Beausire, and vanished.

  The blue domino took possession of Oliva's arm, left at liberty byBeausire.

  "Now!" said she, "I have let you manage poor Beausire at your ease, butI warn you, you will find me not so easy to talk over; therefore, findsomething pretty to say to me, or----"

  "I know nothing prettier than your own history, dear MademoiselleNicole," said he, pressing the pretty round arm of the little woman, whouttered a cry at hearing herself so addressed; but, recovering herselfwith marvelous quickness, said:

  "Oh, mon Dieu! what a name! Is it I whom you call Nicole? If so, you arewrong, for that is not my name."

  "At present I know that you call yourself Oliva, but we will talkafterwards of Oliva; at present I want to speak of Nicole. Have youforgotten the time when you bore that name? I do not believe it, my dearchild, for the name that one bears as a young girl is ever the oneenshrined in the heart, although one may have been forced to takeanother to hide the first. Poor Oliva, happy Nicole!"

  "Why do you say 'Poor Oliva'? do you not think me happy?"

  "It would be difficult to be happy with a man like Beausire."

  Oliva sighed and said, "Indeed I am not."

  "You love him, however."

  "A little."

  "If you do not love him much, leave him."

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I should no sooner have done so than I should regret it."

  "Do you think so?"

  "I am afraid I should."

  "What could you have to regret in a drunkard; a gambler, a man who beatsyou, and a black-leg, who will one day come to the gallows?"

  "You would not understand me if I told you."

  "Try."

  "I should regret the excitement he keeps me in."

  "I ought to have guessed it; that comes of passing your youth with suchsilent people."

  "You know about my youth?"

  "Perfectly."

  Oliva laughed and shook her head.

  "You doubt it?"

  "Really I do."

  "Then we will talk a little about it, Mademoiselle Nicole."

  "Very well; but I warn you, I will tell nothing."

  "I do not wish it. I do not mean your childhood. I begin from the timewhen you first perceived that you had a heart capable of love."

  "Love for whom?"

  "For Gilbert."

  At this name Oliva trembled.

  "Ah, mon Dieu!" she cried. "How do you know?" Then with, a sigh said,"Oh, sir! you have pronounced a name indeed fertile in remembrances. Youknew Gilbert?"

  "Yes; since I speak to you of him."

  "Alas!"

  "A charming lad, upon my word. You loved him?"

  "He was handsome. No, perhaps not; but I thought him so;
he was full ofmind, my equal in birth, but Gilbert thought no woman his equal."

  "Not even Mademoiselle de Ta----"

  "Oh, I know whom you mean, sir. You are well instructed. Yes, Gilbertloved higher than the poor Nicole: you are possessed of terriblesecrets, sir; tell me, if you can," she continued, looking earnestly athim, "what has become of him?"

  "You should know best."

  "Why, in heaven's name?"

  "Because if he followed you from Taverney to Paris, you followed himfrom Paris to Trianon."

  "Yes, that is true, but that is ten years ago; and I wished to know whathad passed since the time I ran away, and since he disappeared. WhenGilbert loved Mademoiselle de----"

  "Do not pronounce names aloud," said he.

  "Well, then, when he loved her so much that each tree at Trianon waswitness to his love----"

  "You loved him no more."

  "On the contrary, I loved him more than ever; and this love was my ruin.I am beautiful, proud, and, when I please, insolent; and would lay myhead on the scaffold rather than confess myself despised."

  "You have a heart, Nicole?"

  "I had then," she said, sighing.

  "This conversation makes you sad."

  "No, it does me good to speak of my youth. But tell me why Gilbert fledfrom Trianon."

  "Do you wish me to confirm a suspicion, or to tell you something you donot know."

  "Something I do not know."

  "Well, I cannot tell you this. Have you not heard that he is dead?"

  "Yes, I have, but----"

  "Well, he is dead."

  "Dead!" said Nicole, with an air of doubt. Then, with a sudden start,"Grant me one favor!" she cried.

  "As many as you like."

  "I saw you two hours ago; for it was you, was it not?"

  "Certainly."

  "You did not, then, try to disguise yourself?"

  "Not at all."

  "But I was stupid; I saw you, but I did not observe you."

  "I do not understand."

  "Do you know what I want?"

  "No."

  "Take off your mask."

  "Here! impossible!"

  "Oh, you cannot fear other people seeing you. Here, behind this column,you will be quite hidden. You fear that I should recognize you."

  "You!"

  "And that I should cry, 'It is you--it is Gilbert!'"

  "What folly!"

  "Take off your mask."

  "Yes, on one condition--that you will take off yours, if I ask it."

  "Agreed." The unknown took off his immediately.

  Oliva looked earnestly at him, then sighed, and said:

  "Alas! no, it is not Gilbert."

  "And who am I?"

  "Oh, I do not care, as you are not he."

  "And if it had been Gilbert?" said he, as he put on his mask again.

  "Ah! if it had been," cried she passionately, "and he had said to me,'Nicole, do you remember Taverney Maison-Rouge?' then there would havebeen no longer a Beausire in the world for me."

  "But I have told you, my dear child, that Gilbert is dead."

  "Ah! perhaps, then, it is for the best," said Oliva, with a sigh.

  "Yes; he would never have loved you, beautiful as you are."

  "Do you, then, think he despised me?"

  "No; he rather feared you."

  "That is possible."

  "Then you think it better he is dead?"

  "Do not repeat my words; in your mouth they wound me."

  "But it is better for Mademoiselle Oliva. You observe, I abandon Nicole,and speak to Oliva. You have before you a future, happy, rich, andbrilliant."

  "Do you think so?"

  "Yes, if you make up your mind to do anything to arrive at this end."

  "I promise you."

  "But you must give up sighing, as you were doing just now."

  "Very well. I sighed for Gilbert, and as he is dead, and there are nottwo Gilberts in the world, I shall sigh no more. But enough of him."

  "Yes; we will speak of yourself. Why did you run away with Beausire?"

  "Because I wished to quit Trianon, and I was obliged to go with someone; I could no longer remain a 'pis aller,' rejected by Gilbert."

  "You have, then, been faithful for ten years through pride? You havepaid dearly for it."

  Oliva laughed.

  "Oh, I know what you are laughing at. To hear a man, who pretends toknow everything, accuse you of having been ten years faithful, when youthink you have not rendered yourself worthy of such a ridiculousreproach. However, I know all about you. I know that you went toPortugal with Beausire, where you remained two years; that you then lefthim, and went to the Indies with the captain of a frigate, who hid youin his cabin, and who left you at Chandernagor when he returned toEurope. I know that you had two millions of rupees to spend in the houseof a nabob who kept you shut up; that you escaped through the window onthe shoulders of a slave. Then, rich--for you had carried away twobeautiful pearl bracelets, two diamonds, and three large rubies--youcame back to France. When landing at Brest, your evil genius made youencounter Beausire on the quay, who recognized you immediately, bronzedand altered as you were, while you almost fainted at the sight of him."

  "Oh, mon Dieu!" cried Oliva, "who are you, then, who know all this?"

  "I know, further, that Beausire carried you off again, persuaded youthat he loved you, sold your jewels, and reduced you to poverty. Still,you say you love him, and, as love is the root of all happiness, ofcourse you ought to be happy."

  Oliva hung her head, and covered her eyes with her hands, but two largetears might be seen forcing their way through her fingers--liquidpearls, more precious, though not so marketable, as those Beausire hadsold.

  "And this woman," at last she said, "whom you describe as so proud andso happy, you have bought to-day for fifty louis."

  "I am aware it is too little, mademoiselle."

  "No, sir; on the contrary, I am surprised that a woman like me should beworth so much."

  "You are worth more than that, as I will show you; but just now I wantall your attention."

  "Then I will be silent."

  "No; talk, on the contrary, of anything, it does not matter what, sothat we seem occupied."

  "You are very odd."

  "Take hold of my arm, and let us walk."

  They walked on among the various groups. In a minute or two, Oliva askeda question.

  "Talk as much as you like, only do not ask questions at present," saidher companion, "for I cannot answer now; only, as you speak, disguiseyour voice, hold your head up, and scratch your neck with your fan."

  She obeyed.

  In a minute, they passed a highly perfumed group, in the center of whicha very elegant-looking man was talking fast to three companions, whowere listening respectfully.

  "Who is that young man in that beautiful gray domino?" asked Oliva.

  "M. le Comte d'Artois; but pray do not speak just now!" At this momenttwo other dominoes passed them, and stood in a place near, which wasrather free from people.

  "Lean on this pillar, countess," said one of them in a low voice, butwhich was overheard by the blue domino, who started at its sound.

  Then a yellow domino, passing through the crowd, came up to the blueone, and said, "It is he."

  "Very good," replied the other, and the yellow domino vanished.

  "Now, then," said Oliva's companion, turning to her, "we will begin toenjoy ourselves a little."

  "I hope so, for you have twice made me sad: first by taking awayBeausire, and then by speaking of Gilbert."

  "I will be both Gilbert and Beausire to you," said the unknown.

  "Oh!" sighed Oliva.

  "I do not ask you to love me, remember; I only ask you to accept thelife I offer you--that is, the accomplishment of all your desires,provided occasionally you give way to mine. Just now I have one."

  "What?"

  "That black domino that you see there is a German of my acquaintance,who refused
to come to the ball with me, saying he was not well; and nowhe is here, and a lady with him."

  "Who is she?"

  "I do not know. We will approach them; I will pretend that you are aGerman, and you must not speak, for fear of being found out. Now,pretend to point him out to me with the end of your fan."

  "Like that?"

  "Yes; very well. Now whisper to me."

  Oliva obeyed with a docility which charmed her companion.

  The black domino, who had his back turned to them, did not see all this;but his companion did. "Take care, monseigneur," said she; "there aretwo masks watching us."

  "Oh, do not be afraid, countess; they cannot recognize us. Do not mindthem; but let me assure you that never form was so enchanting as yours,never eyes so brilliant, never----"

  "Hush! the spies approach."

  "Spies!" said the cardinal, uneasily. "Disguise your voice if they makeyou speak, and I will do the same."

  Oliva and her blue domino indeed approached; he came up to the cardinal,and said, "Mask----"

  "What do you want?" said the cardinal, in a voice as unlike his naturalone as he could make it.

  "The lady who accompanies me desires me to ask you some questions."

  "Ask," said M. de Rohan.

  "Are they very indiscreet?" said Madame de la Motte.

  "So indiscreet that you shall not hear them;" and he pretended towhisper to Oliva, who made a sign in answer. Then, in irreproachableGerman, he said to the cardinal, "Monseigneur, are you in love with thelady who accompanies you?"

  The cardinal trembled.

  "Did you say monseigneur?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "You deceive yourself; I am not the person you think."

  "Oh, M. le Cardinal, do not deny it; it is useless. If even I did notknow you, the lady who accompanies me assures me she knows youperfectly." And he again whispered to Oliva, "Make a sign for 'yes.' Doso each time I press your arm."

  She did so.

  "You astonish me!" said the cardinal. "Who is this lady?"

  "Oh, monseigneur, I thought you would have known; she soon knew you. Itis true that jealousy----"

  "Madame is jealous of me!" cried the cardinal.

  "We do not say that," replied the unknown, rather haughtily.

  "What are you talking about?" asked Madame de la Motte, who did not likethis conversation in German.

  "Oh, nothing, nothing!"

  "Madame," said the cardinal to Oliva, "one word from you, and I promiseto recognize you instantly."

  Oliva, who saw him speaking to her, but did not understand a word,whispered to her companion.

  All this mystery piqued the cardinal.

  "One single German word," he said, "could not much compromise madame."

  The blue domino again pretended to take her orders, and then said: "M.le Cardinal, these are the words of madame, 'He whose thoughts are notever on the alert, he whose imagination does not perpetually suggest thepresence of the loved one, does not love, however much he may pretendit.'"

  The cardinal appeared struck with these words; all his attitudeexpressed surprise, respect and devotion.

  "It is impossible!" he murmured in French.

  "What is impossible?" asked Madame de la Motte, who seized eagerly onthese few words she could understand.

  "Nothing, madame, nothing!"

  "Really, cardinal, you are making me play but a sorry part," said she,withdrawing her arm angrily.

  He did not even seem to notice it, so great was his preoccupation withthe German lady.

  "Madame," said he to her, "these words that your companion has repeatedto me in your name are some German lines which I read in a house whichis perhaps known to you."

  The blue domino pressed Oliva's arm, who thereupon bowed an assent.

  "That house," said the cardinal, hesitatingly, "is it not calledSchoenbrunn?"

  She again made a gesture of assent.

  "They were written on a table of cherry-wood, with a gold bodkin, by anaugust hand."

  "Yes," bowed Oliva again.

  The cardinal stopped, he tottered, and leaned against a pillar forsupport. Madame de la Motte stood by, watching this strange scene. Thenthe cardinal, touching the blue domino, said: "This is the conclusion ofthe quotation--'But he who sees everywhere the loved object, whorecognizes her by a flower, by a perfume, through the thickest veils, hecan still be silent--his voice is in his heart--and if one otherunderstands him, he is happy.'"

  "Oh, they are speaking German here," said a young voice from anapproaching group; "let us listen. Do you speak German, marshal?"

  "No, monseigneur."

  "You, Charny?"

  "Yes, your highness."

  "Here is M. le Comte d'Artois," said Oliva softly to her companion.

  A crowd followed them, and many were passing round.

  "Take care, gentlemen!" said the blue domino.

  "Monsieur," replied the prince, "the people are pushing us."

  At this moment some invisible hand pulled Oliva's hood from behind, andher mask fell. She replaced it as quickly as possible, with ahalf-terrified cry, which was echoed by one of affected disquiet fromher companion.

  Several others around looked no little bewildered.

  The cardinal nearly fainted, and Madame de la Motte supported him. Thepressure of the crowd separated the Comte d'Artois and his party fromthem. Then the blue domino approached the cardinal, and said:

  "This is indeed an irreparable misfortune; this lady's honor is at yourmercy."

  "Oh, monsieur!" murmured the cardinal, who was much agitated.

  "Let us go quickly," said the blue domino to Oliva; and they moved away.

  "Now I know," said Madame de la Motte to herself, "what the cardinalmeant was impossible: he took this woman for the queen. But what aneffect it has had on him?"

  "Would you like to leave the ball?" asked M. de Rohan, in a feeblevoice.

  "As you please, monseigneur," replied Jeanne.

  "I do not find much interest here, do you?"

  "None at all."

  They pushed their way through the crowd. The cardinal, who was tall,looked all around him, to try and see again the vision which haddisappeared; but blue, white, and gray dominoes were everywhere, and hecould distinguish no one. They had been some time in the carriage, andhe had not yet spoken to Jeanne.