The Seven Cardinal Sins: Envy and Indolence Part 25

"You ask my pardon, M. David, when your very reserve is a proof of your generous solicitude for the person I hold nearest and dearest on earth."

As Madame Bastien was preparing for bed that same night, old Marguerite came in and said:

"You have been so occupied with M. David since you returned from your walk that I have had no chance to tell you about something very remarkable that happened to-day."

"What was it, pray?"

"Why, you had been gone about an hour when I heard a great noise at the gate of the courtyard, and what should I see there but a grand carriage drawn by four splendid horses, and who should be in the carriage but the Marquise de Pont Brillant, and she said she wanted to speak to you!"

"To me!" exclaimed Marie, turning pale as the idea that Frederick's attempt had been discovered occurred to her. "You must be mistaken, Marguerite. I do not know the marquise."

"It was you that the dear good lady wished to see, madame. She even said to me that she was terribly disappointed not to find you at home, as she came to make a neighbourly call. She intended to come again some day soon, with her grandson, but that must not hinder you from coming to the castle soon, very soon, to return her visit."

"What can this mean?" Madame Bastien said to herself, greatly puzzled, and shuddering at the mere thought of a meeting between Frederick and Raoul de Pont Brillant. "She told you she was coming again soon, with--"

"With monsieur le marquis, yes, madame, and the dear lady even added: 'He is a handsome fellow, this grandson of mine, and as generous as a king. Oh, well, as I have had the misfortune to miss Madame Bastien, I may as well go. But say, my good woman,' added madame la marquise, 'I am frightfully thirsty, can't you get me a nice gla.s.s of cold water?'

'Certainly, madame la marquise,' I replied, ashamed that such a grand lady should have to remind me to offer her such a courtesy. But I said to myself, 'Madame la marquise asked for water out of politeness, I will show my politeness by giving her a gla.s.s of wine;' so I ran to my pantry, and poured out a big tumbler of wine and set it on a clean plate and took it to the carriage."

"You ought to have given Madame de Pont Brillant the gla.s.s of water she asked for, but it makes no difference."

"Pardon me, madame, but I did right to take her the wine, for she took it."

"The big tumbler of wine?"

"Yes, madame, that she did. It is true she only moistened her lips with it, but she made another old lady who was with her drink the rest of it, and I think she couldn't have been very fond of wine, for she made a sort of face after she drank it, and madame la marquise added, 'Tell Madame Bastien that we drank to her health and to her beautiful eyes,'

and when she returned the gla.s.s she slipped these five s.h.i.+ning gold pieces into my hand, saying: 'These are for Madame Bastien's servants on condition that they will drink to the health of my grandson, the Marquis de Pont Brillant. _Au revoir_, my good woman.' And the handsome coach whirled away."

"I am very sorry that you didn't have the delicacy to decline to take the money she offered you."

"What, madame, refuse five louis d'or?"

"It is for the very reason that this is such a large sum of money that I am so sorry you accepted it."

"I didn't know, madame. It is the first time such a thing ever happened.

If madame wants me to, I'll take these five gold pieces up to the chateau, and return them to the lady."

"That would only make a bad matter worse, but if you want to please me, Marguerite, you will give this hundred francs to the poor of our parish."

"I'll do that very thing to-morrow, madame," said Marguerite, bravely, "for these gold pieces burn my fingers, now you tell me I did wrong to take them."

"Thank you, Marguerite, thank you. I always knew you were a good, true woman. But one word more. Does my son know that Madame de Pont Brillant was here?"

"No, madame, for I have not told him, and I was alone in the house when the carriage came."

"Very well. I don't want my son to know anything about this visit, Marguerite."

"I won't breathe a word, then."

"And if Madame de Pont Brillant calls again you are to say that I am not at home, whether I am or not."

"What, madame, you won't see this great lady?"

"I am no great lady, my good Marguerite, and I do not crave the society of those who are so far above me in rank, so let it be understood that I am not at home if Madame de Pont Brillant calls again, and also that my son must remain entirely ignorant of to-day's visit."

"Very well, madame, you may trust me for that."

The next morning Madame Bastien informed M. David of the circ.u.mstance, and he commented on two things that had also struck Madame Bastien, though from an entirely different point of view.

"The request for a gla.s.s of water was evidently only an excuse for the bestowal of an extraordinarily large gratuity," said David. "The lady also announced her intention of soon coming again, I understand, though--"

"Though she begged me not to trouble myself to return her visit at the chateau," interrupted Marie. "I noted this humiliating distinction, and though I had not the slightest intention of responding to Madame de Pont Brillant's advances, this warning on her part obliges me to close my doors upon her in future. Far from being flattered by this visit, the possibility of her returning here, particularly with her grandson, alarms me beyond measure, remembering as I do that terrible scene in the forest. But this much is certain, the young Marquis de Pont Brillant knows nothing of Frederick's animosity. If he did, he certainly would not consent to accompany his grandmother here. Ah, monsieur, my brain fairly reels when I try to solve the mystery."

Two or three days more were devoted to fruitless efforts on the part of the mother and tutor.

Frederick remained impenetrable.

At last M. David resorted to heroic measures, and spoke of Raoul de Pont Brillant. Frederick changed colour and hung his head, but remained silent and impa.s.sible.

"He must at least have renounced his idea of vengeance," decided David, after studying the youth's face attentively. "The animosity still exists, perhaps, but it will at least be pa.s.sive henceforth."

Marie shared this conviction, so her fears were to some extent allayed.

One day M. David said to Madame Bastien:

"While accepting with comparative cheerfulness the modest existence led by the members of your household, madame, has he never seemed to crave wealth and luxury, or deplore the fact that he does not possess them?"

"Never, M. David, never have I heard Frederick express a desire of that kind. How often has he tenderly exclaimed:

"'Ah, mother, could any lot be happier than ours? What happiness it is to be able to live on here with you--'"

But the poor mother could not finish the sentence. This recollection of a radiant past was too overpowering.

Each day the intimacy between Henri David and Marie Bastien was increased by their common interests and anxieties. There was a continual interchange of questions, confidences, fears, plans or hopes, alas!

only too rare,--all having Frederick for their object.

The long winter evenings were usually pa.s.sed tete-a-tete, for Madame Bastien's son retired at eight o'clock, feigning fatigue in order to escape from the solicitude that surrounded him, and that he might pursue his gloomy meditations undisturbed.

"I am more unhappy now than ever," he said to himself. "In times gone by my mother's continual questions about my secret malady irritated me; now they break my heart and augment my despair. I understand all my mother must suffer. Each day brings some new proof of her tender commiseration and her untiring efforts to cure me, but, alas! she can never forgive nor forget my crime. I shall be to her henceforth only an object of compa.s.sion. I think exactly the same of M. David that I do of my mother.

I do full justice to his devotion to me and to my mother, but it is equally powerless to cure me, and to efface the remembrance of the vile and cowardly act of which I was guilty."

Meanwhile Henri David, believing himself on the track at last, was extending his researches to the most trivial subjects, at least apparently. Convinced that Frederick had powerful reasons for concealing his feelings from his mother, he might exercise less constraint in his intercourse with the two old servants on the place. Henri questioned them closely, and thus became cognisant of several highly significant facts. Among others, a beggar to whom Frederick had always been very generous said to the gardener: "M. Frederick has changed very much. He always used to be so kind-hearted, but to-day he gruffly told me: 'Apply to M. le marquis. He is so rich! Let him help you!'"