Sister Anne Part 32

"Saint Bernard calls woman the _organum diaboli_."

"But Confucius declares that a woman's mind is the masterpiece of the Creator."

"Juvenal says that the thought of vengeance has more attraction for a woman than for a man."

"Which proves, Monsieur Menard, that she bears some resemblance to the G.o.ds."

"And Origen says: 'Woman is the key to sin.'"

"I had always supposed that she was only the lock."

"Agnes Sorel enfeebled the courage of Charles VII."

"And another woman restored it."

"Joanna of Naples caused her husband to be strangled."

"Jeanne Hachette saved Beauvais."

"On the whole, monsieur le baron, it seems to be about an even thing."

Let us leave our two friends to return to Gren.o.ble, discussing the nature of womankind,--a discussion which might lead them very far, and leave them without any additional knowledge of the subject; for a learned man has said that a woman's heart has as many varying moods as there are grains of sand on the seash.o.r.e (and he must have been learned, indeed, to know the number of the latter),--and let us return to Frederic.

He breathed more freely when Dubourg had left him, and ere long he heard the steps of the horses which bore his companions away. Thereupon, as well pleased as Crates, who cried, after throwing all his money into the sea: "Now I am free!" he felt more at liberty to abandon himself to his pa.s.sion for the dumb girl, since he was rid of Dubourg and Menard; and he hurried away to the cabin. Frederic did not look beyond the present; he did not reflect; for he was twenty-one years old, and he was pa.s.sionately in love!

Sister Anne was in the garden, trembling from head to foot; old Marguerite was asleep, and the girl could abandon herself without restraint to the sentiments which agitated her. The presence of those two men who knew Frederic caused her a disquietude which became more painful with every minute that pa.s.sed. To live without her friend seemed impossible to her now. Love was life itself to that heart of flame which had not learned, in that forest solitude, to control its pa.s.sions. Her loving heart had flown to meet him who had said to her: "I love you."

But when she gave herself to him, Sister Anne bound herself forever.

Frederic had taught her to know happiness; he had revivified her heart, withered by misfortune. When she finds that she has the power to please, a woman is born again. What would become of her, if she must renounce that hope at sixteen? Frederic was all in all to her; and until that moment love had seemed to her the summit of earthly happiness. But there is no lasting happiness, especially in love. Only a few short days of bliss had pa.s.sed, and already the poor child was beginning to know the suffering which that sentiment brings in its train.

At last, Frederic appeared. She did not run--she flew into his arms; she cast her eyes about; he was alone, and her heart was more at ease.

"No," said her lover, kissing her; "I will not leave you. Where could I find a lovelier woman--one more faithful or more worthy to be loved?

What do I care what they say? what do I care for a world to which no tie binds me? I am perfectly happy here. My father himself could not induce me to give you up!"

Another kiss on the girl's sweet lips sealed the promise he had made.

The night with its darkness brought even sweeter moments, for the lovers shared the same couch; and in the arms of her who lavished the most loving caresses upon him, Frederic repeated his vow:

"No, I will never leave you!"

But after a week, the days pa.s.sed less swiftly for our lover; the poor girl's fond caresses no longer sufficed to occupy the time; he felt that he must have some occupation, that one cannot dream one's whole life away beside a mountain stream.

After another week, he went down into the valley, mounted the horse, which he had kept, and took several short rides in the neighborhood, to procure some provisions that they required, as he told Sister Anne; although he had done well enough without them at the beginning of his sojourn in the woods.

After another week, he began to gaze longingly in the direction of Gren.o.ble. He was surprised that Dubourg did not return to inquire as to his welfare, and that Menard too had forgotten him. Indeed, I believe that in his heart he was offended. Did he no longer love Sister Anne?

Oh! yes, he loved her still. But time!--And, as Dubourg had well said, there is no love strong enough to stand a tete-a-tete of three weeks.

But let us not antic.i.p.ate; let us leave him with the dumb girl, who loves him as dearly as on the first day, because--oh! ask some woman why!--and let us return to Dubourg, who once more has the funds for the journey at his disposal.

XV

FeTE, DINNER PARTY, FIREWORKS, SURPRISE

On arriving at Gren.o.ble, Dubourg ordered dinner, and the usual repast, common to all the guests, was served to them.

"What kind of a dinner is this? we must have something different to eat, and, above all, some different wines," said Dubourg, beginning to make an uproar because he had money in his pocket.

The host appeared, and informed the gentlemen that their account was already quite large, because, in addition to their board and lodging, their young companion had foundered all the horses belonging to the inn by overriding them. Dubourg's only reply was to take a five-hundred-franc note from his pocket and give it to the innkeeper, saying, with all the sang-froid of true grandeur:

"Take your pay out of this."

The host opened his eyes; his pinched nostrils expanded; his mouth, in his efforts to give it an amiable expression, split from ear to ear; he tied himself up in apologetic phrases, and ended by saying that he would at once make up his account, but that he hoped that the gentlemen would not leave him, and, if agreeable to them, he would give them muscatel with their dinner.

When he had gone, Monsieur Menard, whose expression was almost as comical as the innkeeper's, said to Dubourg:

"Have you received funds from Poland, monsieur le baron?"

"Why, yes, to be sure, Monsieur Menard. Parbleu! Money isn't apt to be scarce long, with me."

"But I didn't see the courier who----"

"You must have been asleep when he arrived. The main point is that we can go anywhere now, and not have to stand by, like misers, and watch other people play, which is not n.o.ble at all. To begin with, we will go to see our friend Chambertin to-morrow; but, in my judgment, we had better send a messenger to give him notice of our proposed visit, so that he may entertain us as we deserve. What do you think about it, Monsieur Menard?"

"I think that cannot fail to have a good effect, monsieur le baron."

"Then find me a scullery boy, and dress him in your flannel waistcoat and my morning cap, to give him an English look. Meanwhile, I will go and write my letter."

Menard went out to look for a boy to be transformed into an English jockey, while Dubourg composed the following epistle:

"Baron Ladislas Potoski, Palatine of Rava, etc., etc., has the honor to inform his honorable friend De Chambertin d 'Allevard that he will visit his chateau to-morrow, accompanied by Professor Menard. Baron Potoski kisses the hand of Madame de Chambertin d'Allevard."

They handed the letter to the scullery boy disguised as a courier, who, in consideration of a five-franc piece, went off at once to deliver it at its address.

Monsieur and Madame Chambertin were about to retire when the messenger arrived. It was half-past nine o'clock; and in the country, when one does not cultivate letters, or music, or painting, or one's garden, the evenings seem interminable. Monsieur Chambertin had played the violin, and madame had sung a new romanza; then they had talked of the n.o.ble Pole, whom they despaired of seeing again; and monsieur had said: "I am amazed; he gave me his word that he would come." And madame had added, with a sigh: "It surprises me much more than you."

The noise made by the messenger caused Monsieur Chambertin to pause as he was about putting his legs under the bedclothes. He did not continue, although his wife said to him: "Do get into bed; the servants are there to answer the bell." But who could have come so late?

Someone knocked at the bedroom door; it proved to be Lunel, who announced through the keyhole a message from Monsieur le Baron de Potoski.

At that name, Monsieur Chambertin, who still held his leg in the air, ready to thrust it into bed, abruptly withdrew it and, losing his balance, rolled on the floor; while Madame Chambertin sat up in bed, and called loudly for a mirror to arrange her hair. Her husband rose meanwhile, and ran to get his dressing-gown, calling to Lunel:

"I am coming, Lunel; I am coming right away!"

"Give it to me instantly, monsieur," cried Madame Chambertin; "I am in a hurry, I shall never have time."