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"My head is bewildered," she replied, "I do not understand what he says--Why does he speak of death?"
Christian's lips curled disdainfully as he answered:
"It does not concern you; one does not kill women."
"They need it not to die," replied Clemence, who gazed at her husband with wild, haggard eyes.
"Then you are going to fight?" she added, after a moment's pause.
"Really, have you divined as much?" he replied, with an ironical smile; "it is a wonderful thing how quick is your intelligence! You have spoken the truth. You see, each of us has his part to play. The wife deceives her husband; the husband fights with the lover, and the lover in order to close the comedy in a suitable manner--proposes to run away with the wife, for that is the meaning of his letter, notwithstanding all his oratorical precautions."
"You are going to fight!" she exclaimed, with the energy of despair.
"You are going to fight! And for me--unworthy and miserable creature that I am! What have you done? And is he not free to love? I alone am the guilty one, I alone have offended you, and I alone deserve punishment. Do with me what you will; shut me up in a convent or a cell; bring me poison, I will drink it."
The Baron burst into sardonic laughter.
"So you are afraid that I shall kill, him?" said he, gazing at her intently, with his arms crossed upon his breast.
"I fear for you, for us all. Do you think that I can live after causing blood to be shed? If there must be a victim, take me--or, at least, begin with me. Have pity! tell me that you will not fight."
"But think--there is an even chance that you may be set free!" said he.
"Spare me!" she murmured, s.h.i.+vering with horror.
"It is a pity that blood must be shed, is it not?" said Bergenheim, in a mocking tone; "adultery would be pleasant but for that. I am sure that you think me coa.r.s.e and brutal to look upon your honor as a serious thing, when you do not do so yourself."
"I entreat you!"
"I am the one who has to entreat you. This astonishes you, does it not?--While I live, I shall protect your reputation in spite of yourself; but if I die, try to guard it yourself. Content yourself with having betrayed me; do not outrage my memory. I am glad now that we have no children, for I should fear for them, and should feel obliged to deprive you of their care as much as lay in my power. That is one trouble the less. But as you bear my name, and I can not take it away from you, I beg of you do not drag it in the mire when I shall not be here to wash it for you."
The young woman fell back upon her seat as if every fibre in her body had been successively torn to pieces.
"You crush me to the earth!" she said, feebly.
"This revolts you," continued the husband, who seemed to choose the most cutting thrust; "you are young; this is your first error, you are not made for such adventures. But rest a.s.sured, one becomes accustomed to everything. A lover always knows how to find the most beautiful phrases with which to console a widow and vanquish her repugnances."
"You are killing me," she murmured, falling back almost unconscious in her chair.
Christian leaned over her, and, taking her by the arm, said in a low tone:
"Remember, if I die and he asks you to follow him, you will be an infamous creature if you obey him. He is a man to glory in you; that is easy enough to see. He is a man who would drag you after him--"
"Oh! have pity--I shall die--"
Clemence closed her eyes and her lips twitched convulsively.
The first rays of the morning sun fell upon another scene in the opposite wing of the chateau. Marillac was quietly sleeping the sleep of the just when he was suddenly awakened by a shaking that nearly threw him out of his bed.
"Go to the devil!" he said, angrily, when he succeeded in half opening his heavy eyes, and recognized Gerfaut standing beside his bed.
"Get up!" said the latter, taking him by the arm to give more force to his command.
The artist covered himself with the clothes up to his chin.
"Are you walking in your sleep or insane?" asked Marillac, "or do you want me to go to work?" he added, as he saw that his friend had some papers in his hand. "You know very well I never have any ideas when fasting, and that I am stupid until noon."
"Get up at once!" said Gerfaut, "I must have a talk with you."
There was something so serious and urgent in Gerfaut's accent as he said these words, that the artist got up at once and hurriedly dressed himself.
"What is the matter?" he asked, as he put on his dressing-gown, "you look as if the affairs of the nation rested upon you."
"Put on your coat and boots," said Octave, "you must go to La Fauconnerie. They are used to seeing you go out early in the morning for your appointments with Reine, and therefore--"
"It is to this shepherdess you would send me!" interrupted the artist, as he began to undress himself; "in that case I will go to bed again.
Enough of that!"
"I am to fight with Bergenheim at nine o'clock!" said Gerfaut, in a low voice.
"Stupendous!" exclaimed Marillac, as he jumped back a few steps, and then stood as motionless as a statue. Without wasting any time in unnecessary explanations, his friend gave him a brief account of the night's events.
"Now," said he, "I need you; can I count upon your friends.h.i.+p?"
"In life and in death!" exclaimed Marillac, and he pressed his hand with the emotion that the bravest of men feel at the approach of a danger which threatens one who is dear to them.
"Here," said Gerfaut, as he handed him the papers in his hand, "is a letter for you in which you will find my instructions in full; they will serve you as a guide, according to circ.u.mstances. This sealed paper will be deposited by you in the office of the public prosecutor at Nancy, under certain circ.u.mstances which my note explains. Finally, this is my will. I have no very near relative; I have made you my heir.
"Listen to me! I do not know a more honest man than you, that is the reason why I select you. First, this legacy is a trust. I speak to you now in case of events which probably will never happen, but which I ought to prepare for. I do not know what effect this may have upon Clemence's fate; her aunt, who is very austere, may quarrel with her and deprive her of her rights; her personal fortune is not very large, I believe, and I know nothing about her marriage settlement. She may thus be entirely at her husband's mercy, and that is what I will not allow.
My fortune is therefore a trust that you will hold to be placed at her disposal at any time. I hope that she loves me enough not to refuse this service of me."
"Well and good!" said Marillac; "I will admit that the thought of inheriting from you choked me like a noose around my neck."
"I beg of you to accept for yourself my copyrights as author. You can not refuse that," said Gerfaut, with a half smile; "this legacy belongs to the domain of art. To whom should I leave it if not to you, my Patroclus, my faithful collaborator?"
The artist took several agitated turns about his room.
"To think," he exclaimed, "that I was the one who saved this Bergenheim's life! If he kills you, I shall never forgive myself. And yet, I told you this would end in some tragic manner."
"What business had he there? Is it not so? What can I say? We were seeking for a drama; here it is. I am not anxious on my own account, but on hers. Unhappy woman! A duel is a stone that might fall upon a man's head twenty times a day; it is sufficient for a simpleton if you stare at him, or for an awkward fellow if you tread upon his toes; but on her account--poor angel!--I can not think of it. I need the fullest command of my head and my heart. But it is growing lighter; there is not a moment to lose. Go to the stable; saddle a horse yourself, if there is no servant up; go, as I said, to La Fauconnerie; I have often seen a post-chaise in the tavern courtyard; order it to wait all day at the back of the Montigny plateau. You will find everything explained in detail in the note which I have given you. Here is my purse; I need no money."
Marillac put the purse in his pocket and the papers in his memorandum-book; he then b.u.t.toned up his redingote and put on his travelling cap. His countenance showed a state of exaltation which belied, for the time being, the pacific theories he had expounded a few days before.
"You can depend upon me as upon yourself," said he with energy. "If this poor woman calls for my aid, I promise you that I will serve her faithfully. I will take her wherever she wishes; to China, if she asks it, and in spite of the whole police force. If Bergenheim kills you and then follows her up, there will be another duel."
As he said these words, he took his stiletto and a pair of pistols from the mantel and put them in his pocket, after examining the edge of the one and the caps of the others.
"Adieu!" said Gerfaut.