CHAPTER IX.
THUNDER CLOUDS.
Gabrielle was stung to the quick. When _she_ taught the infants herhusband could never be lured into the nursery, and now--in so brief aspace of time--a stranger had succeeded in rousing his dormantinterest. In her jealousy she took to secretly watching the movementsof the governess, and discovered, to her dismay, that the steps ofClovis were constantly wending towards the school-room. And this stateof things had been brought about by the non-performance of duties. Itwas her own fault--of course it was her own fault for neglecting theabbe's warning. Had he not said that Clovis required leading; had henot even offered to assist her in leading him, and had she not repliedby inference that so long as he was guided judiciously, it might be byanother hand? But never, in wildest nightmare, had she conjured thepossibility of that hand being another woman's! She was a bad wife,for she had neglected her duty, since, surely, it is a wife's firstduty to make herself pleasant to her husband. Oh! woe on sins ofomission! Instead of pampering her spouse's hobbies she had scoffed atthem, and punishment had swooped swiftly down on her.
But it was not too late to set the matter right. He was not a bad man,though difficult to live with. A word of remonstrance at this juncturewas worth a homily later, and he would hearken to her words ofpleading, for since the arrival of the brothers at Lorge he had shown,in a glimmering glow-worm way, that he admired and liked his wife. Shewas satisfied that his sluggish nature was not capable of a warmerfeeling, and had brought herself meekly to accept that microscopicmeed of affection. She must take her courage in her hands, and openher heart to him; declare that his new arrangement, which at the startpromised well enough, was making his wife wretched. When he came tounderstand that she was miserable, he would apologise at once and sendthe interloper packing.
Rising from the sofa on which she had fallen after pacing the room ina fever, she moved rapidly along the corridor which led to themarquis' study. Her fingers were on the door-knob, and her head waswhirling with persuasive arguments, when of a sudden her hand droppedpowerless. There were low voices murmuring within. The parquet allaround the closed door was strewn with straw and bottles, while on anopen packing-case was scrawled in large letters the name of AglaeBrunelle. A cold shiver passed over her frame. She was with him now,that woman. On familiar terms, indeed, since her boxes were unpackedby Clovis! They were never weary of communing together, with headsclose and hair mingling, discussing subjects which absorbed them both,but in which she would never have a part! The pride of the youngchatelaine rebelled. She could not complain before the domineeringadventuress. Would it not be humiliating enough to confess to _him_that his beautiful and high-born wife was jealous of a stranger,sprung from nowhere in particular, who was rather plain thanotherwise?
Reluctantly returning to the boudoir, she took a pen and, after apause of meditation, flung it down. Write to her fond father, begginghim to intervene? No. He believed that she was happy, and shouldbelieve it to the end, however much she might be made to suffer. Heshould share her joys, but not her sorrows, the good father who adoredher so. She must endeavour to remedy her own mistakes, fight thisrival single-handed, win back the errant husband by the female artswhich hitherto she had affected to despise, and understood so little.Was she strong enough for the difficult task? Perchance the abbe wouldassist; but was it not another bitter thing to summon one to therescue who, though repentant, had once so grievously forgottenhimself?
Meanwhile, though he kept up a show of airy levity, the cunningPharamond was, in a different way, almost as perturbed as she. Thestrides of the affinity were prodigious, whereas his own siege ofGabrielle made no advance at all. Unless he grappled with thesituation without delay, he would assuredly be worsted. But how tograpple with it, by cajolery or threats? Or would it be advisable topractise the arts of the bravo? Was the hand of cordial friendship tobe extended to the interloper, or was she forthwith to be stabbed inthe back? Pharamond considered himself a genius, and knew that oneattribute of genius is to know when to seize an opportunity. Considerthe knotty problem as he would, he could not come to a decision.Perhaps, for the present, a waiting game would be the best to play.The hand of friendship first, as an experiment; a stab with thepoignard by and by.
The abbe in his uncertainty took to dividing his valuable societybetween the ladies. While the marquis and his affinity were fidgetingover experiments, he read impassioned strophes to the marquise. Whenthe party went forth for a walk or drive he attached himself to theskirt of Aglae. Her behaviour was irreproachable. She laughed slily athis delicate hints, and seemed mightily amused by his compliments.Once, when he thought he was really making progress in this direction,she placed her two large hands upon her haunches, and wagging herhead, remarked, "Does monsieur think me blind?"
"Certainly not," replied the gallant abbe. "Those sparkling orbs shinelike fireflies."
"Then why arrange a trap--and such a clumsy one--for my poor bigsimple feet to fall into?"
It is disconcerting to the astute to be twitted with lack ofskill. The tactics that served for Gabrielle would not do with thisshrewder lady. Since she guessed his hand, why not show the cards?Dangerous--but a hazardous game not unfrequently coerces Fortune.
"Why can't you trust me, mademoiselle," he murmured. "Cannot one sosharp perceive that I'm her friend?"
"A thousand thanks. I am indeed blessed," simpered the lady, raisingher bushy brows. "A fortunate wanderer on life's rugged road. Themarquis is all goodness. Have I also found favour with his brother?"
"I have helped you already," pursued the abbe, fibbing. "I haveexplained to the marquise that she must no longer interfere with thechildren; that Mademoiselle Brunelle is to have absolute and completecontrol."
Aglae shot at the speaker a suspicious glance. An ally and not anenemy? To what end? If it were really so, a friend in the camp wouldbe extremely useful. A snare--surely a snare--for this man had everyreason to dislike the intruder.
"What motive have you for befriending a poor insignificant creaturesuch as I?" bluntly demanded the governess. "People do nothing fornothing in this world, and I know that I am not a beauty."
"I have my reasons."
"What are they?"
"Eve was too prying. Accept the lesson and trust."
Aglae looked straight at Pharamond; then laughing her great rollinglaugh playfully shook her head.
"No. Trust You? Thank you," she said. "You overreach yourself, for youare a dreadfully sharp-witted gentleman who can see through a wall andround a corner. You think I have grand plans, when I have none; for Iam only a guileless wandering waif who enjoys the good things of thisworld."
There was a sly look of covert malice in her sparkling eyes whichbelied her words, "You do not believe me?" she continued. "I am notquite young, so I have learned to know the world and its funny littlesnares. Flies are only eaten by spiders because their lives are soshort, that they've no time to learn experience."
"You take me for a spider?" inquired Pharamond, uncertain what to makeof the lady.
"You are certainly a wee bit like, for you want to gobble up poor me!"
"I assure you that both I and the chevalier are friends, whom youwould do well to trust."
"You take me for a cuckoo, and all the while I am a dove," criedlively Aglae. Then seeing that the abbe was nonplussed, she spokemusingly, as though discussing a grave matter with herself. "What apity," she observed regretfully to the landscape, "that the dear mancannot be explicit. He is afraid that the lowly governess may supplanthim with his brother, and would like to tumble me neck and crop intohis yawning gaping trap! In so shrewd a gentleman stupidity is sad."She pretended not to see the gleam of menace in the abbe's eyes, orthe sharp clenching of his hands, and turned with an ingenuous look ofartless innocence when he blurted out in anger,--
"Afraid! I am afraid of no one. I can speak more plainly, if youwill."
"No need," replied the governess, carelessly, "for I can s
ee roundcorners quite as well as you. I can read your character up to a point,and beyond that I confess I am baffled. I have changed my mind--womenhave the right, haven't they?--and will give you a lesson in candour.There is no witness to our cosy chat, for the birds are gonea-picnicing, so why should we beat about the bush? Stick to the truth,abbe. You say you are afraid of none, the while you are afraid of me.You look with fear on my growing influence over the marquis, and inthat you are right, for I intend that he shall be my slave, unable tolive out of my company. See how plain spoken I am, whilst you are fullof artifice! When I came here I had no projects, being content todrift like a cork, leaving events to sort themselves, and my planseven now are of the vaguest. The marquis is rich. Do not suppose for amoment that I propose to become his mistress. Never, never, never! _ceserait trop bete!_ If his puling wife were to die I might condescendto succeed her, but that is not just now within the limits of theprobable. I like the marquis, and I like the grey old chateau, and Ienjoy the sweets of wealth. Why trouble about the morrow, then?Whatever I may choose to do I shall succeed in it, for patience is oneof my pet virtues--not but what I love them all--and success is madeof patience as the sea of drops."
"You are a singular woman!" remarked the abbe.
"Am I not? Frankness is so nice when no one's by. My long speech isnot finished yet, for I would like to add that I like you too, andshould regret to have you for an enemy. Here is my point of doubt. Isaw before I had been here a day that you were enamoured of the prettydoll. I do not blame you, for most men are idiots. They cannot learnthat good looks are provokingly transient, while intellect bears wearand tear."
"Your candour is half confidence disguised," laughed Pharamond. "Whatcan you be aiming at if you disdain to become his mistress?"
"Have I not said I do not know? I have not thought. I am open to beled by circumstances. Candour for candour. I burn to discover what youare aiming at with regard to the pretty doll? Why are you so anxiousto make a friend of me? Am I to be the scourge to lash her toobedience? Yes? A crooked compliment, but let that pass. I have nopity for that sort of woman, and if you promise not to stand in my waywhen I discover what it is, I will accept the role to serve you. If Ihelp you now I may claim your assistance later, A bargain! Weunderstand each other quite, I think? We will make the fool sowretched that in despair she'll seek refuge on your breast."
It was evident that tortuous ways did not find favour withmademoiselle, who preferred making for a goal with straightuncompromising march, kicking down barriers with her big broad feet.It was to be an alliance, then? Well and good; but it was somewhatnettling that the proposal should come from her, as if her own idea.When the caprice seized her, she could take things with so high a handas to be bewildering. The abbe resolved to accept her terms, but wouldhave the last word on the subject.
Bending over Aglae's dusky fingers, he lightly touched them with hislips. "You are a monstrous clever lady," he said, "and my admiringrespect increases hourly. Trust us as we trust you, and each partywill be the stronger for the union. We are both skilful players, youand I, who, antagonistic, might spoil each other. Loyalty and trust.It's understood." With that he made a low obeisance and left the ladyto her thoughts.
Mademoiselle Brunelle revolved the course of the conference, and wassatisfied. When first engaged, knowing the marquise to be a beauty,she had, as she explained, formed no definite design. That which wasworking in her brain had grown out of a survey of the situation. Onthe whole, there was nothing to find fault with. For a wage, the abbewas to throw all his weight into her scale--a wage which cost hernothing. He had correctly pointed out that as foes they would hurteach other; but she was far from admitting that in a contest it wouldbe she who would succumb. Her contempt for the culpable helplessnessof the marquise was so intense that it cost her much to be civil. Whata pleasure, then, to stick pins into her quivering flesh! To have awoman always at one's elbow who sighs like the east wind, and weepslike a cataract, as Gabrielle had taken to do of late, was vastlyirritating. There is naught more trying to strong nerves than thefecklessness of one that can do nothing to help itself but scream--notthat Gabrielle screamed, or made any uproar. She was far too haughtyfor that, and veiled her pain as closely as weakness permitted; butAglae knew as well as faithful and indignant Toinon, that the haplesslady's grief found vent in midnight vigil, and earnest prayer andbitter tears, which in the morning left their mark. Entangledin an intrigue with Pharamond, such claws as she possessed forself-protection, would be cut. If by skilful handling the ripenedcherry could be dropped into his mouth, it would be the better foreveryone. Though Aglae, for some eccentric reason, declined to beherself a mistress, she saw no reason why another should not. IfGabrielle and Pharamond could be brought together, all would besatisfied. The wind would change; the cataract dry up; a serioussource of annoyance would be removed; and the lovers sufficient untothemselves, would not trouble about the subsequent proceedings of themarquis and his affinity.
But supposing that weeping Niobe proved obdurate--weak people arepigheaded--and was inconvenient enough to be inconsolable? There is nouse in erecting castles till we know the ground they are to be builton. The abbe was a spiteful little wretch, and, baulked, there was noguessing how he would act, or of what he would be capable. Sufficientunto the day is the evil. To oblige him, Gabrielle should receive thelash, and it would be amusing to watch the result.
As week followed week, life seemed to run so oilily at Lorge, thatonlookers would have envied the unruffled lot of the tranquil lotuseaters. And yet what fierce currents were beginning to battle underthe smooth surface--currents of hate and sorrow, and envy anddespair--some ensanguined, some black as winter night. The only memberof the party who was not pining for something different--whoseaspirations and desires were satisfied--was Clovis, Marquis de Gange.He had found his affinity, had caught his adept, and had succeeded,without remonstrance, in making her one of the family. His brother,instead of objecting in any way to the presence of an interloper, wasconstantly congratulating him on his good luck in having unearthed sodesirable a specimen. "Just think," he cried, beaming withsatisfaction; "you might have saddled us with a tatterdemalion whowould have stolen the family plate and have cut our throats while wewere asleep, instead of which you have produced a bundle of charms,big enough for two!" Clovis was grateful to his brother for chiming inso promptly with his whim. "She is indeed a charmer," he purred, "sogood-natured and obliging; never cross or malevolent, with no touchof venom on her tongue. There's nothing more dreadful than a spitefulor scheming woman. The very thought of such an anomaly makes meshudder." And then he sighed a little. If Gabrielle could only be asgood-humoured as Aglae, and as accommodating as Pharamond. Despite hisefforts, he could not help remarking that piteously sad face everymorning at _dejeuner_. She was pale and thin, and her beauty was onthe wane. Her eyes loomed unnaturally large. Never a talker, sherarely opened her lips now, but sat drumming her fingers on thetable-cloth in the most uninteresting way, staring across the Loire asif she did not know each detail of that landscape. How different fromAglae, who could prattle on for ever on any subject.
On the grand principle that we hate persons whom we have injuredalmost as much as those from whom we have received benefits, the sightof melancholy Gabrielle began to tell upon the nerves of Clovis. Shewas guilty of the great crime of boring him and of pinchingconscience, and was unfortunate enough not to show advantageously bythe side of the new foil. A moist statue of Endurance established atone's breakfast-table is an overpoweringly cumbersome piece offurniture, however immaculate its contours. Poor Gabrielle was noactress. If her heart was bursting, she had not the art to grin, andsmirk, and caper to conceal the unpleasant fact. If her dimmed eyeswere surrounded by _bistre_ circles like a rainy moon, if her lipquivered and her cheek was wan, she could not help it, for the modicumof courage she possessed was oozing, and she cared not if she lived ordied. Her heart was slowly withering. When looking on the man uponwhom she had bestowed her love, for better or worse
for life, hisimage was blurred by distance. She saw him across a wide gulf that wasever widening. Our unlucky heroine's mind, as we have learned, was notwell stocked. The sometimes skittish Brunelle's square head was sostocked with lore that doubtless in moments of woe she couldunpigeonhole an array of valuable statistics and build with them abulwark against trouble. Gabrielle was incapable of any suchproceeding. She loved her husband with the loyalty of the simple womanwho loves once. She worshipped the prodigies, who under the new_regime_ were becoming even more prodigious. Her husband turned awayfrom her; the darlings were estranged from their own mother. Seeingher so little, and pampered and flattered by the brilliant governess,they learned to dote on the funny tall brown woman with the voice likea deep-toned bell, who was ever ready, when they danced into the room,to cast aside her occupation and teach them a new game, or invent forthem a new story. Her resources were endless, for her spirits wereinexhaustible, and, like Richelieu and his kittens, she found thegambols of childhood entertaining.
Gabrielle rarely saw the darlings now. They were isolated in a remotewing, to which she dared not penetrate for fear of some covert insult.Wearied by the ever-present reproach of her sad face, Clovis changedhis habits. For the future, he would breakfast in his study, hedeclared, so as not to interrupt his experiments.
How fortunately affairs were turning, to be sure! Clovis wasenchanted. His neighbour, the Comte de Vaux, usually such an oldnuisance with his prate of the _grande noblesse_, was opportunelyattacked with acutest sciatica. What a chance to try the _bucket!_Thanks to that admirable Aglae, it was complete. The exact placing ofthe various bottles; the quantity of iron filing in each; the modicumof liquid; the length of the glass wands: all was known and arrangedto a fraction. The rheumatism of the respectable De Vaux would be sentpacking. Glory would cover Mesmer and his two disciples.
Gabrielle had sought refuge from despair in good works, as moststricken women do. She was indefatigable amongst the poor, and theadvent of the "White Chatelaine" produced always a chorus of blessing.When departing on her rounds, Aglae, gazing down upon her from herwindow, had often been heard to give vent to growls and ribaldthunderclaps.
"Just look at mawkish pale-face," she cried one day to the chevalier,who nodded and smiled, pretending to be intelligent. "There's not athing she can do right. Fool! making friends with the weak instead ofwith the strong! I know better than that."
Toinon, who chanced to overhear, smiled maliciously. "Indeed?" shechuckled to herself. "If Jean Boulot speaks truth, it is the strongwho have been slumbering, while the weak danced and sang. Wait a bit,and you will get your deserts, milady. And, oh! won't I help you onyour road!"
This matter of the completed bucket was one in which the chatelainemight assist with propriety in an endeavour to please her husband. Shehad heard so much of it as almost to be convinced of its efficacy.True, the abbe had told her that it was a delusion, that the bottom ofthe whole scheme was imagination; that the mechanical effect offriction in disorders of a convulsive nature will produce startlingresults; that there is a well-known law which impels one excitedanimal to imitate another in a similar situation to himself, and thatthis would satisfactorily account for the phenomena of Mesmer's cures.But this was some time ago, and since then Pharamond had affected tocome round, and when he beheld the completed tub he gave way to spasmsof rapture.
When the newly-wedded wife in pique had worried her spouse withscenes, they were only the ebullitions of a much-admired womanirritated by the loved one's coolness. Now she had trod the path oftrouble so far that those days were out of ken. In her efforts to winback her husband she would even conciliate the mischief-maker. Somewomen seem specially created for martyrdom. Otherwise insignificant,we should not see them but for the dazzling whiteness of their robes.I dare say that many of the canonized young ladies whose legendsthrill us would, had they not been called to march over theploughshare of trial, have remained as much in obscurity as any otherordinary young persons, who are too stupid to make a pudding or darn astocking. They would have passed utterly unnoticed in the crowd butfor the martyr's nimbus.
"The woman does not like me, and is rude," argued too guilelessGabrielle, as she considered her resolve, "but she is such a generalfavourite that surely she can't be a bad woman; she is only vulgar,and given to self-assertion. Perhaps the fault lies in myself."Bravely, then, the meek saint uprose and went straight to Aglae'sapartment, bearing with her a peace-offering, bent on the making up ofdifferences.
But the sublime and the angelic were beyond the comprehension ofmundane Aglae, who since infancy had known nothing but the sordid;whose childhood had been passed in a beast-like tussle, a constantstruggle for food. To her thinking, the maxim anent the turning of thecheek is an insult to common sense, considering the world whereon wewere placed without consent of ours. In Saturn or Jupiter, perhaps,such inflated theories may be appropriate. Those worlds may bepleasant places to dwell in. There, no doubt, a police force is notrequired, while the wily but necessary detective is pictured as acuriosity, an extinct monster, like the Dodo and the Mammoth on thisglobe.
Mademoiselle Brunelle, an unromantic lady of middle age, toocommonplace to enjoy the fantastic, looked on eccentricities with ajaundiced eye, and the contemplation made her peevish.
When the wan marquise knocked and gently entered the sanctum, whereshe should have known there was no place for her, the ire of Aglae waskindled, and sulkily regarding the invader, she assumed her mostoffensive attitude. What could the abject, grovelling, brow-beatencreature want, coming here to bother? How dared she take such aliberty? She deserved a setting down--a drubbing. Here was a chancefor the lash! The mere sight of the wide opened violet eyes of themarquise, with their eloquent depth of ineffable sadness, acted on hernerves as the flag of the toreador does upon the bull. We must notblame her, for those who have struggled up somehow without educatedhelp, must judge for themselves according to their lights, and theyare beset with insoluble riddles, as ill-cultured fields are chokedwith weeds. To women such as Aglae, true pride is an unknown quantity.Instead of considering it as an organ of extremest delicacy, withramifications as minute and various as that most amazing of creations,the nerve system--she, like others of her kidney, understood nothingmore than an aggressive haughtiness, with an accompaniment of sledgehammers. To her, the refined pride which can afford to pass slightsunnoticed and ignored impertinence, was a mystery which might not bedeciphered.
Gabrielle--so misread by Aglae--had bestirred herself to achieve anobject, and was prepared to forgive and obliterate the ugly past. Thepugnacious and low-souled Aglae could only perceive a lady of highrank, who, out of cowardice, abdicated her position to grovel like abeggar in the dirt. Such an one obviously merited castigation;deserved to be rudely shown that being so mean-spirited she shouldcower into a corner and hide away her shame.
This was the occasion for judicious pin-sticking. The alliancedemanded an operation. What would the abbe say, who had prated soseraphically about loyalty, if he came to know that his ally and hisrecalcitrant lady love had made a compact under the rose? Oh, dear no!A reconciliation between the marquise and her governess would never doat all! A consummation injudicious and undesirable. The purveyor ofimpossible theories must be well-rapped on the knuckles. The cheekthat was turned to the smiter must be soundly thwacked to prevent arecurrence in the future of ill-judged and degrading mawkishness.
Aglae, therefore, on the advent of the conciliatory marquise, made apettish movement of studied impertinence, and yawned slowly in herface like a dyspeptic hippopotamus.
"What's that you are bringing me?" she grunted. "You know that I don'twant to be worried with you? A present? From you? Oh dear! How youannoy me! As if I wished for your present!"
Nothing daunted, Gabrielle held out the olive-branch. "It is abracelet my father gave me," she said, calmly, "and I would like youto wear it, that you may be assured each time you look on it, that Ibear no malice for your roughness."
"Nice enough. Your father had
good taste," the governess remarked,with another portentous yawn. "But what do I want with your trinkets?Eh? I have only to say the word to be bedecked with the familyjewels."
First pin, plunged well into the flesh. Gabrielle turned white, butdid not abandon her purpose.
"What harm have I ever done you?" she asked, quietly.
"Harm!" echoed Aglae. "The harm of coming into the world, and makingof yourself a perpetual nuisance. Nobody here wants you. Why can't yougo out of it?"
"I wish to be taught about Mesmer and his theories," pursuedGabrielle, with a courage which should have compelled respect. "Giveme lessons and I will pay you."
"_You_ pay me?" laughed Aglae amused. "My price might be too high foryour purse."
The marquise looked at the governess in mild surprise. Could it bethat she did not know how the case stood with regard to money? It wasnot for her to enlighten the interloper. The fact was, that as themarquis received what he wanted, the subject of filthy lucre was nevermentioned in the household.
"The carriage has been ordered, and I will go with you to-day." Shedecided quietly.
"What!" shrieked Aglae, tired of the interview. "You want to go toMontbazon? Do you know that we are going to operate upon old de Vaux?My poor soul! You would only be most desperately in the way, seeinghow ignorant and in experienced you are. Come. Saints prefer thetruth, I'm told, though I don't find it always pleasant; but then I'mnot a saint, you see. I would have you realise that your method isdeplorable. You have managed so ill as to drive the marquis from hisown breakfast-table with your ridiculous woful airs. The lucklessmaster of the house has been hunted from the dining-hall. For a saint,I call that ungenerous." Pin No. 2.
"I may be incompetent to amuse--that is my misfortune," sighed themarquise; "but it is strange that one with so good a heart as he,should treat her so harshly who loves him with all her soul."
"Love!" laughed the governess with insolence, much tickled. "You don'tknow what it means. How just it is that one so fair should be sobrainless! All you could give him was the clammy affection of a fish.No wonder that anything so chilly should be returned with thanks."
Gabrielle's cheeks began to burn, her eyes to sparkle. "It is not foryou who eat my bread to shower insults on me! Till you came," shesaid, "we got on well enough. I took what he had to give withgratitude. I have endured too much from you, and know now that you arewicked. Beware lest you push me to extremity."
"Till I came?" echoed the governess. "Till then it was the worthyabbe's tact that kept things going, no thanks to you. One of the fewjust rules of this bad world is that as we make our bed we lie on it.Your bed is full of creases? Too late, my dear, to smooth them. So Iam the kill-joy, am I? Ask your husband whether he was ever so happyas since my coming? You poor, puling, whining bat!" pursued Aglae,surveying her victim with withering scorn. "You could not perceivethat natures such as his require a master--a strong hand to lead, aniron will to guide, a whip to drive, if need be. Here is the hand towhich he has learnt to cling and shall cling to--to the end."
Mademoiselle flourished the large square-fingered hand so close to themarquise's face that she recoiled.
"Why, even your children care more for me than you," she scoffed. PinNo. 3. "No doubt I have bewitched them? You should get me burned as asorceress, and start your life afresh. I freely give you this advice,so never say I am ill-natured. Puling and whining adds loathing toindifference. Cheerfully accept the fate you've carved, and make thebest of it. Now you must really excuse me; I must dress, for I neverkeep the marquis waiting;" and with that she firmly pushed themarquise from the room and slammed the door in her face.
It was cruelly put, but true--all of it. With sinking heart the palechatelaine admitted it was true. Too late now for remedy. The womanhad taken Clovis in that powerful hand of hers, and twisted him roundher little finger. Would it be of any use to make the appeal to himfrom which she had shrunk so long? No. The woman had laid stress onthe fact that he had come actually to avoid her presence, would noteven sit at table with her. Nothing short of absolute aversion coulddeprive her thus of every privilege of wife and mother. What had shedone to deserve it?
Painfully the chatelaine reviewed her empty life. If she had gone toofar with one of the Paris swains she could not have been morecompletely ostracised. He was indifferent even then, heeding not herincomings or outgoings, and yet he must once have cared a little forhis young wife, for then his eyes were sometimes fixed on her withgenuine satisfaction. Never now. By what intangible, invisible degreeshad things come to this grievous pass? Must she take the woman'sadvice, and strive to look with cheerfulness on the inevitable? Awife, yet no wife! What was to be the end of it? Only twenty-fiveyears old. How wide a waste of barren dreariness in front ere shemight hope for rest.
A sound of wheels on the gravel--the carriage was gone. On the box wasa wondrous array of parcels. Clovis and Aglae were engaged in soanimated a discussion that the children on the front seat crowed andclapped hands with glee, marking the gesticulations of papa and thedear, funny, brown woman. Their elfin laughter reverberated among thegrim pinnacles and turrets, and as the carriage turned into a woodyglade, Gabrielle saw from her seat in the moat-garden little Camilleclimb upon the woman's knee and press her rosy face against the brownone. The action smote the marquise as with a knife-stab, and shemoaned as if in bodily pain. "She usurps my place completely,"murmured the hapless lady, deadly pale. "I am as little a mother as awife. Oh, God grant me strength to endure! Though I be without thegate, teach me to be thankful that they are happy."
She was aware of a long shadow on the grass, and a gentle voice by herside echoed her own thought.
"Alone--always alone," the suave abbe said, scrutinizing with lazysatisfaction the delicacy and whiteness of his hands. "How is it, dearmarquise, that you only of our coterie are heavy-hearted? You needrousing. What will you gain by moping except a loss of beauty and abad digestion? They've gone off to Montbazon, Clovis and his affinityand the babes--twittering like so many sparrows. I should like tosurvey the scene there, it will be most entertainingly ridiculous, butthey won't let us miserable scoffers assist at the incantation. Ourpresence would annul the charm. What a divine day!" he continued,flinging himself on the grass in a graceful attitude at the feet ofthe chatelaine. "How swiftly the seasons pass! These glorious summerdays! How we enjoy the sun although we seek the shade, apparentlyungrateful. We forget that the leaves will turn sallow and swirl downand die, and that we shall pine for warmth in vain. Why not? Whytrouble about the future when the present is brimming with delight?"
The abbe, his hands clasped behind his head, was peering straight upinto the blue, and what he saw there must have been pleasing, for heseemed as satisfied with everything in general as the cat that purrsbefore the fire.
"Why so dismal, my dear Gabrielle, on so perfect a morning as this; itsavours of ingratitude to heaven?"
Gabrielle glanced down at him. Was he playing with her in malice, asthe cat does with the mouse? Dismal, forsooth, when your heartoverflows with misery!
Pharamond was in a retrospective mood, and dreamily surveyed the pastas he might some moving panorama.
"Let me see," he said. "How long have we dwelt here a model family? Ayear and a half--rather more than a year and a half."
"Only that?" sighed Gabrielle. "It seems a lifetime."
"You are discontented? Yearn for the frippery of court life? I am notsurprised. It is horribly selfish of us all to lock up such peerlessbeauty as yours to gloat over among ourselves."
"A worse than useless gift," remarked Gabrielle, with conviction,"bestowed on us by nature in her most malicious mood. Happiness isgiven to the ugly ones."
"At least they are saved the pang that accompanies the first wrinkle,"asserted Pharamond. "You refer to Mademoiselle Brunelle, I suppose;our charming Aglae. She appears to be happy enough indeed. Those largewomen of stoutish build possess a power of assimilation--of selectingwhat is best, and chewing the cud of its enjoyment. Ages ago, befor
e Iappeared on the scene, you were discontented. Yes, you were, dearGabrielle. It was my privilege then to bring back sunshine to thisgloomy spot. You might have rewarded me but you were unkind. I did notcomplain, but endured your cruelty without a murmur. It was mysolicitude that unwrinkled your rose-leaves. You might have rewardedme, I say, and you would not, and yet I bore no malice."
A foreboding of new evil darkened around Gabrielle's heart. "Why referto that episode that was condoned, and dead, and buried?"
Without changing his attitude, the abbe pursued purringly--
"For those halcyon days you had me to thank--me only, remember that,and you could not be grateful. Ingratitude must be gently chidden, forit goes ill with beauty--as a mother gently chides a well-beloved one.I crumpled the leaves again, deliberately squeezed them into tinyroughnesses, that you might learn how much you owed me. I confess itwas my doing. It was for your own good I did it."
The marquise sat like stone. What was this new gulf slowlyyawning--and she who looked to him for help!
"Did you never guess that it was I? No? How singular. Your intellectworks slowly. I never say what I don't mean, and I warned you, unlessI mistake sadly, that it depended on yourself whether I was to befriend or foe. Does you memory serve you? Yes? So glad."
"I had learned to trust you as a friend," murmured Gabrielle, huskily."A dear friend on whom to lean in trouble. Alas--alas! my only one!"
"Why, alas? You are, excuse me, so very foolish. As our sensible Aglaeis so fond of saying, 'We do nothing for nothing in this world.' Tosit at these dainty feet is in itself a privilege, but ardent men,made of hot flesh and blood, crave more. It's human nature to begrasping."
"If you have mercy, peace!" implored the pale lady in growing terror.
The abbe raised himself on his elbow and surveyed Gabrielle--as lovelyas a startled fawn in her distress--with a smile that was quitepaternal, and belied the green glitter from beneath the lids. "What anaughty girl," he chuckled, "to tempt a weak mortal with such charms.I swear to you that with that marble skin, and those widely-openedeyes of violet, like eyes that see a phantom, and ruby lips justslightly parted, and that fluttering heaving bosom, you are ten timesmore beautiful than I have ever seen you yet! Tut, tut! Calm yourself.Do not take me for that uncomfortable thing, a basilisk. I am notgoing to touch you, so don't look horrified. I am going away. That iswhy I spoke. I wished you to know how matters stand, and to reflectduring my absence. It is desirable that you should quite comprehendthat for weal or woe your future depends on me."
"Going away," echoed Gabrielle, relieved, and yet dismayed.
"It is necessary. Was it not delicately imagined to speak, as I had tospeak, just on the eve of departure? Am I not considerate? We havelately had letters of strange purport from Paris. Outrageous rumoursare abroad, which, if a whit of them is true, may mean serious perilto our class. Over the affair of the Bastile the king was lamentablymisguided. He and his ministers know now and bitterly regret theirlack of purpose, for the scum, as was to be expected, has taken heartof grace and waxes impudent with impunity. So I am going to make alittle trip to the capital, just to reconnoitre. Do not be alarmed. Ithink that the agitation is all moonshine. Reflect on what I havesaid, and remember that there's a limit to man's patience. Yourfuture, whether for comfort or the reverse, depends entirely on me. Irepeat it for the sake of emphasis. I gave you peace, then at my whimwithdrew it. Have I made it clear that what I have done I can undo?"
"There are limits to a woman's patience as well as a man's," Gabrielleobserved, grimly.
"Quite so," acquiesced the other. "Mademoiselle Brunelle has been athorn in your flesh, which I regret. You have endured its irritationwith fortitude, for which you deserve all praise. It depends uponyourself whether or no the thorn be pruned away. For that you need myaid, which shall be freely tendered--on conditions that you wot of.During my absence I have instructed the chevalier to watch, that youmay be shielded from assaults of the enemy. A useful watchdog is thechevalier, faithful and obedient, who will report to me everythingthat passes. It is a sad pity that he takes to drink. I have observedlately that he takes more and more to the bottle. Of that by and by hemust be cured. Meanwhile, I would have you consider the case fromevery point of view, and yourself deliver the verdict."
The Abbe Pharamond rose to his feet, and kissing his finger tips,departed.
Pressure from all quarters to the same end. You have made yourbed--make the best of it; accept the inevitable cheerfully. What thefates decree we fight against in vain. Unfortunate Gabrielle.Patience? Good heavens--how long-suffering was hers! And what had shegained by it? Rebuff. Persecution. Torture. Out of the labyrinth theyhad planted about her there were two exits. She might appeal to themarechal for protection, return to the shelter of his roof. But to lethim learn that her life was shattered, that the marriage he hadhimself arranged had turned out so disastrously; it would break theold man's heart.
The other passage? Through the gates of Death. No. That method ofescape might not be employed either. What would the old man's feelingsbe if he discovered that she had been driven to suicide? And yet--tofall into the maw of the abbe. Never--never--never. Why not? Whyshould she care what happened? To her it mattered little now whatchanced, bereft of all. Her father need never know. Perhaps, if shegave way they would in pity grant her peace? Sure she was going crazy.Peace? The peace of guilt? Peace where there was no peace? No--no. Itshould never come to that.
CHAPTER X.
THE MAGIC TUB.
The abbe was a chameleon--bewildering in the abruptness of hischanges. The carriage that returned from Montbazon was a chariot oftriumph, and the abbe joined with vigour in the paeans of victory. Hewished to leave a good impression, that his absence might beregretted. He was going on a tour of business and of pleasure; wasdetermined to enjoy himself immensely--he, who as a provincial hadrarely visited Paris. How delicious before he went, he declared withrapture, to have his mind relieved, to be assured that the magic tubwas no fraud--Mesmer, a genius, not a charlatan! They must toast theprophet in bumpers of champagne. He insisted on it, and accordinglydragged the delighted Clovis from his study to join the circle atdinner. Clovis was quite another man. A gladness was in his eyes thattransformed his glum visage, and Gabrielle sitting opposite wondered.In this mood, sure if she spoke, he would hearken. Was the case reallyhopeless? Was it, indeed, too late? Alack. It was evident that theabbe was playing a part, for now and again he glanced at Gabriellewith an expression that was full of meaning. The situation wasbewildering. Like one who dreams she sat listening to the victoriousduet, wherein the marquis and the governess took up their tale byturns.
Under the sun of success Clovis opened like a flower. He was radiantwith content. His wife yearned to lead him from the room to hersecluded boudoir, and there, twining her arms about his neck, pointout the facets of the situation of which he seemed so singularlyignorant. She would have fallen at his feet and clasped his knees;have hugged him to her breast and warmed him with a spark of her ownfire. But then, that insidious talk of mademoiselle's under which hermemory tingled. The clammy affection of a fish! A man who required amaster. The venom instilled was inoculating her system. Pride laid afinger on her lips.
Oh! What a scene it had been at Montbazon! To perform a successfulseance, Aglae explained, many accessories were _de rigueur_, since thevital fluid could not work with effect unless the mind were broughtinto a condition of fixed and unruffled calm. Now it is no easy matterto bring about this state in one who is a prey to aches and pains. Thecase is somewhat akin to that in the dentist's room when the patientis informed on the honour of a gentleman that the twinge will be amere nothing, and that agitation is to be deprecated and calmdesirable. Then he suddenly finds an object as large as a coach-househalf down his throat, and the top of his head flies off. Unruffledcalm, indeed, with a twang of the sciatic nerve and a twitter down thecalf, and a great nail being hammered into the big toe! The crust
y oldBaron de Vaux growled out that as he could not be calm they had betterremove their apparatus.
Calm being a _sine qua non_, Mesmer had pointed out long since thatmusic was a necessary feature in an operation while the patient wasbeing manipulated. He was in the habit of placing his devotees in adelicious garden carpeted with grass, refreshed by play of fountains,variegated by beds of perfumed flowers and clumps of bushes, fromamongst which came dulcet strains. In the intervals of crises acomplete orchestra hidden somewhere burst forth into harmonioussymphonies, at one time grave at another gay, quieting the patientinto beatitude due to gratification of his senses. Sight, smell,hearing, all were considered. So minutely did the prophet delve intothe matter that he issued an order against wind instruments. Thesymphonies were to be in D minor, interpreted by stringed instrumentsonly; and at critical moments their effect was increased by thestrains of an harmonica, touched by his own skilled fingers. Lestnerves should be excited by all this instead of quieted, a silentattendant stood behind each patient with a jug, from which, accordingto his discretion, he dribbled cold water upon the pate below him.This item was particularly soothing.
Now it was obvious that all these perfections were not easily to beobtained in the provinces. The mind of Clovis had been much exercisedin the matter, and he dreaded failure for himself and obloquy for theprophet. But Aglae was a treasure of resource. While her deft handswere rubbing the count's withered leg, the marquis was in an outerchamber to grumble _ad libitum_ on his beloved 'cello. The villageband was to await the crisis, and then break forth into the baron'sfavourite air of Vive Henri Quatre. The effect was sure to besplendid, for country magnates--even of the _grande noblesse_--were ofrougher grit than pampered city ones; and, in sober fact, the barondid not know a bassoon from a violin.
But then there were unexpected difficulties, under which Clovisunaided would have succumbed. The bucket was there, and the marquisdelivered a learned lecture on it to somewhat apprehensive lieges.They would be kind enough to remark that at the bottom of the tub wasa substratum of rusty nails, covered with a layer of iron filings,over which was laid a set of bottles with necks radiating outward.Above them was another set of bottles with necks radiating inward.This was most important, for radiation was one of the secrets of thesystem. Cords of silk were attached all round with nooses, each for apatient's neck, and by these cords the vital fluid was to circulate tothe patient and back again.
Madame de Vaux was much scandalized. "On no account will I allow arope around my husband's neck," she vowed emphatically. "The Baron deVaux treated like a common felon! Never, while she could prevent it!Had not the low mob of the capital been stringing people to lamp-postswith ropes of late? Why the king allowed it she could not think; buthe, no doubt, knew better than his subjects. The marquis ought to beashamed of himself for proposing anything so improper and suggestive."
Angelique considered the whole affair undignified, and was sorry thatthe village band should assist at such a spectacle. The rope wasabandoned, and in its stead a long tube of glass was passed from theside of the tub to the right temple of the patient--a much moredecorous proceeding where a live baron was concerned. Then the 'cellobegan to drone and the governess to rub, and by and by the old man'sface began to twitch and his toothless gums to move. The baroness,much shocked at this derogation from accustomed dignity, vowed that itwas impious, that the devil was at work, and that she ought to haveprovided a curt and a brush with holy water. The patient began tolaugh, then cry; then shout, then mumble. All down his leg wereprickings--such curious prickings. "Oh, Mother of Heaven! The prods ofthe arch-fiend," faintly gurgled the old lady. "Stuff and nonsense!Angelic punctures!"
"All is going well!" announced the authoritative voice of Aglae."Band! Strike up--here is the crisis!" she shouted joyfully, but themusicians stood aghast. Sure the poor gentleman had the dance of St.Vitus as well as lesser ailments. A savour of brimstone pervaded theapartment. Some swore, with shrieks, that they could see his Satanicmajesty--could count the hairs in his tail; and then all rushed forthpell-mell like panic-stricken sheep. Madame de Vaux screamed andfainted, while Angelique, who was no coward, retired into a corner.
Clovis had his misgivings, and as he scraped on, louder now to maskthe retreat of defaulters, wondered inwardly whether it was all adevil's trick? He cast uneasy glances at the stooping Aglae, whorubbed on unmoved. What a stupendous woman. Not a tremor at suggestionof the Evil One. He felt sure that face to face with the whole Sataniccourt that strong-minded female's colour would not have changed ashade. It was not possible to feel fear in so sturdily self-reliant apresence. Clovis's misgivings waned, and he groaned on at hisinstrument with lightened heart. His ever-increasing admiration formademoiselle became tinctured with an awe in which respect was mingledwith apprehension. Who could resist such a woman whatever she mightdecree? She had indeed twisted her admirer round her finger, and coulddo with him as she listed.
The seance over, the baron was wrapped in blankets and exhorted tosleep while the adept and her neophyte refreshed the inner person.When they returned later to the operating room the old lady, recoveredfrom her swoon, was weeping silently, while Angelique stood by amazed.The tears were those of relief and joy. The twang of the sciatic nervewas stilled. The pain was gone. The baron, wringing the hand ofMademoiselle Brunelle, vowed he was younger by ten years.
This was the tale told in duet, with the accompanying chorus of theabbe. Amazing, marvellous, wonderful! Aglae beamed on all around likethe dimmed sun through golden mist. At every moment Clovis appealed toher with the devoted submissiveness of willing slavery. His chainswere of roses, and he hugged them. Pharamond glanced slyly from timeto time at the two ladies, so contrasted in appearance and demeanour,and then frowned at the chevalier, who was absorbed by attentions tothe bottle. It was inconvenient that the oaf should take to drink. Hadhe not been charged with the important mission of watching over themarquise? He had better take good care not to transgress. If aughtwent wrong in the abbe's absence the chevalier should repent itbitterly.
END OF VOLUME I.
* * * * * SIMMONS & BOTTEN, PRINTERS, LONDON. _G. C. & Co_.
The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 1 (of 3) Page 9