Tales from Blackwood Part 18

At length Jaqueline and Father Dunstan took their departure through a private road from the back of the chateau, and rode in silence, side by side, for nearly a league, when Jaqueline expressed her sorrow for the disasters and quarrels that have just been related.

"It was no fault of thine, my child," observed the priest; "it is ever thus when women are so exceedingly beautiful. Men don't know what to do with themselves. Heigho!"

"La, Father Dunstan!" exclaimed Jaqueline, "what can that have to do with the present case? I'm no beauty, that's certain, or some of our young fellows would have found it out long ago. You used to say yourself that I was more fit for a boy; and latterly I've been thinking the same, and had a great mind, since n.o.body would come a-courting to me, to dress myself up like a man, and try my luck that way."

"Most exceedingly dull and stupid must the young men about St Denis be in the present generation!" said Father Dunstan. "But you'll find it very different at Moulins. Heigho!" and they rode on in silence for a considerable distance, and then Jaqueline exclaimed, "Why, this is the same way that I was brought this morning! Yes. And there I declare is part of the old castle, peeping above the trees. We shan't get to the c.o.c.k and Bottle to-night at this rate! But, bless us, _mon bon pere_, what's the matter with you? Aren't you well?"

"Not exactly, my dear," replied the priest; "I feel a very peculiar sensation in my pericardium, and a dizziness about the head."

"Can I do anything for you?" inquired Jaqueline.

"I think," said Father Dunstan, "nay, I am sure that it would do me good to hear you talk a little, my dear Mademoiselle."

"Very well," replied Jaqueline, "I don't mind talking a great deal, if that will be of any service: but what must it be about?"

"Anything. Only speak kindly."

"Speak kindly! why, how can I speak in any other way to such a nice good old man as you are?"

"No, no, not very old. Don't talk so," said the priest, reproachfully.

"Well then, I won't," continued Jaqueline--"for I'll please you, if I can; and, now I look at you again, really I shouldn't have thought you'd been so old as you are, if I didn't remember that, when I was a child, you looked much the same as you do now; and I've heard my father say----"

"Never mind what, my dear. Don't mention it."

"Very well, father, then I've done, though I can't see how it signifies about your age, when you are so hearty and strong as you are."

"Do you really think so?" inquired the delighted priest.

"Why, of course. One has only to look at you, and see that plain enough," said Jaqueline; and then, perceiving the sort of talk that was most likely to be agreeable to her companion, she continued to compliment him upon his good looks till they arrived at the ruins.

The old lady was absent; but Father Dunstan said he knew her well, and that she would be very angry if he did not make himself quite at home.

So he prevailed upon Jaqueline to consider herself as his guest till their hostess's return; and bestirring himself with the alacrity of a youth, he had put up the horses, spread the table-cloth, lighted the fire, and was beating up an omelet, before Jaqueline had finished her simple toilet. When she expressed her wish to take the culinary department, he gently, but firmly and respectfully, requested her to take a seat, and let him have his own way, which she accordingly did, marvelling exceedingly at his dexterity and accurate knowledge of the contents of the old lady's larder, and the spot in which everything was kept.

In due time they sate down to dine, and his attention to her during the meal was excessive, and therefore tiresome to one unused to form and ceremony. So, when it was finished, she reminded him of his old habit of taking a nap in the afternoon, and recommended him to do so on the present occasion, hinting, at the same time, her hope that, when he had so refreshed himself, he would be ready to escort her to the c.o.c.k and Bottle. But at this last suggestion he shook his head, and said something about the horses being tired, and then yawned and took a gla.s.s of wine, and then yawned again, and so on till he fell asleep.

"I think I'll go and lie down, and do the same," thought Jaqueline, "for I'm dreadfully fatigued with all this riding"--and she betook herself to the little dormitory in which she had been installed by the old lady on the preceding night; and after gaping once or twice, and wondering when she should get to the c.o.c.k and Bottle, she lost sight of her cares--and the next question she had occasion to ask herself was, "How long have I been asleep?"

It is a question which, after fatigue, we have all occasionally found it very difficult to answer. Jaqueline rubbed her eyes, and repeated it aloud, and greatly was she astonished to receive a reply in the well-known tones of Father Dunstan, who was seated by her bedside. "You have slept soundly, my dear. It is now morning. I have kept watch over you, as I hope always to be permitted to do hereafter. Heigho!"

"La! Father Dunstan!" exclaimed Jaqueline, shrinking under the coverlet--"surely this is very improper conduct, although you are such a very old man."

"No, no," cried the priest, "I am not an old man. I feel that I am not.

You will be very happy with me, and without you I cannot live. I have not slept a wink all night for thinking of you, and have made up my mind. It is of no use for you to refuse, as I've got you here in the middle of the forest. So agree at once to go with me to England, where priests are allowed to marry, and you will never repent it. Beautiful, beautiful creature as you are, I shall never cease to adore you!"

"You horrid, wicked old wretch!" shrieked Jaqueline, "get along out of the room immediately, or, if you don't, mind I have not taken off my clothes: I'll get up and give your old bones such a shaking--I will. Eh!

What! You'd hold me down would you? Let go the clothes, will you! If I do but get my hands loose, I'll scratch your eyes out, I will, you ugly old--old--old monster! What! You'd smother me, would you? Help, help, murder!" and making a violent effort as she shrieked, she felt herself suddenly released from the inc.u.mbent pressure.

"Oh, he's gone, is he!" she exclaimed, breathing hard after the struggle, and looking round the room, "better for him, or else I'd have--but bless me! I am undressed, after all! How very strange that I don't recollect----"

Here she was agreeably surprised by the appearance of her kind hostess, who came running into the room in great apparent alarm, to inquire what was the matter. The explanation that followed, consisted of the adventures which have been related; and when the old lady had heard them to the end, she remarked, with an odd sort of smile--"Well, never mind, my dear, you are safe out of their clutches now; so dress yourself, and come down to breakfast, for it is very near eight o'clock; but I did not call you before, as you seemed so sound asleep; and now I know what's happened, I don't wonder."

CHAPTER III.

"No, no, you may depend upon it I shall not tell anybody about it, for my own sake; for if it got talked of, it might come to the ears of the Comte and the rest of them, and they'd be after me again; but I've had quite enough of your gentry, and lots of lovers; and if ever I should get another, I hope he'll be a plain sort of body like myself."

Thus said Jaqueline to her kind hostess of the castle, on their way to the c.o.c.k and Bottle, where they arrived after a pleasant walk, and parted without further adventures.

On the evening of that day our heroine was safely conveyed in the _patache_ to the door of Madame Margot, who was a restauratrice in the Cours Public, a pleasant open s.p.a.ce planted with trees in the town of Moulins. Her reception was most cordial; but Nicolas Margot, who officiated as _premier garcon_ in the establishment, evinced no symptoms of that intense admiration which she had so recently excited. In a few days, however, they became excellent friends, as she cheerfully a.s.sisted him in his vocation during the morning, and he was consequently earlier at liberty to chaperon her about the town and environs, and all went on smoothly till the last day of the first week, which Jaqueline declared was Sunday.

How any Christian could so err, appeared wonderful--but she was positive, and would not be convinced, until the day had pa.s.sed by, and the next came and was kept as Sabbaths are wont to be observed in France, by unusual gaiety all day, something more showy than common at the theatre in the evening, and fireworks "superbe et magnifique" at night. Then she was puzzled, and came to the conclusion that townsfolk and country people kept the calendar in two ways.

"They will never persuade me to the contrary," she repeated to herself; "for I never can forget how I spent last Tuesday. But the old lady was right. It won't do to tell Madame Margot or Nicolas about that, or I don't know what they might not fancy, although I am sure it was no fault of mine that I got among such a pack of fools."

So she kept that secret; and as time pa.s.sed merrily along, it somehow happened that she and Nicolas glided unawares into such a degree of confidence, that it was the only secret she withheld from him.

The influence of the moon upon disordered brains may probably account for much of the nonsensical talk that pa.s.ses between young persons of different s.e.xes, when walking in pairs on "a s.h.i.+ny night;" and that or something else, ere a month had elapsed, caused a great alteration in the tone and subjects of familiar chat between Jaqueline and Nicolas.

This was observed by Madame Margot, who thereupon also changed her manner, by kissing her guest more fervently at night ere she retired to rest, while Nicolas looked very much as though he should like to do the same.

"She is a charming, good girl," said the mother to her son, when they were left together on one of these occasions, after Jaqueline's departure.

"That she is!" exclaimed Nicolas, stretching out his legs, twirling his thumbs, and looking down into the fire.

"And _so_ good-tempered!" added Madame Margot, "and so willing and clever about a house! Why, since she has been here, she has been as good as a waiter to us."

"Worth more than all we ever had put together in a lump," said Nicolas.

"She would make an excellent wife," observed the mother, looking archly at her son; but he would not look at her, being apparently watching some change going on among the ashes. "And she will bring her husband some money too," she added, after a pause.

"The devil take the money!" exclaimed Nicolas, jumping up and striding hastily across the room.

"Oho! Is it so?" thought the restauratrice; "then the omelet's ready for the pan;" and, in the spirit of that conviction, she led her son into a conversation, the result of which was, that in the course of a few days she contrived to make an arrangement with a neighbouring _traiteur_, whereby he engaged to take charge of her establishment for the s.p.a.ce of one month, leaving her and her son at liberty to take a journey into the country on business.

What pa.s.sed during those few days between Jaqueline and Nicolas need not be told, except that he now and then said things which reminded her of certain of the speeches of the "pack of fools," whom she had encountered on the memorable missing Tuesday.

It was a fine day in September, when Madame Margot, Jaqueline, and Nicolas, took their seats in a _patache_; and were safely conveyed to the c.o.c.k and Bottle, where, to our heroine's great surprise, they were welcomed by her father and the little old lady of the ruins.

The cause of this surprise may as well be told here. The said old lady was an eccentric good body, and, having taken a fancy to Jaqueline, resolved to be her friend. So, after her departure from the castle, she went over to St Denis to make inquiries, as (like all benevolent persons) she had often been deceived. All that she heard of her young _protege_ was to her heart's content, and, by means of the _cure_, with whom she was acquainted, she found no difficulty in gaining the friends.h.i.+p of papa Triquet, to whom she related the particulars of her interview with, and intentions toward his daughter. She then, with his consent, wrote a letter to Madame Margot, authorising her, in case of inquiry touching such matters at Moulins, to state that Jaqueline Triquet would, on her wedding-day, receive from her a given quant.i.ty of that dross which Nicolas thought fit afterwards to proffer to his infernal majesty. This circ.u.mstance was not made known to the lovers till after the marriage, when the promise was strictly fulfilled.

And now, to the reader's imagination may be left all the particulars of the journey homeward--how papa Triquet flirted with the fat widow and the little laughing old lady--how Jaqueline was more envied by her friends, on her return from than on her departure for Moulins--how Nicolas and she, having once began each to fancy that there was something very capital in the other, proceeded onward in the delusion till each seemed perfect in the other's eyes, though to the world in general there really appeared nothing very particular in either of them.

The wedding-day pa.s.sed, with accustomed gaiety, at St Denis; and towards the close thereof, when the bride was allowed a short respite from dancing, the good little old lady took her aside, and gave her certain reasons whereby to account for the missing Tuesday, concluding by observing--"I would not tell you before, because I thought it might be a lesson to you not to wish for beauty, or think of acquiring attractions by the use of charms and such nonsense. The most powerful charm and attraction is a good temper and kind conduct. Ha, ha! Why, you don't look above half convinced yet: but, remember, you were very much fatigued that night, and it was very sultry after the storm, and you were very thirsty, I daresay, and so it is no great wonder that water was running in your head." But, probably, she forgot the long tales which she herself told that night, about the olden times of splendour and gaiety, with elaborate descriptions of furniture, liveries, &c. &c., which were not a little likely to have some influence in the affair.

As Jaqueline resolved to have no secrets unknown to her husband, she related the whole matter to him on the following day, and then said, "It seemed to me as if I saw all those people as plain as I see you now; and if all that then happened was a dream, how do I know but I am in a dream now?"

"It really seems to me as if I was, my dear Jaqueline," said her spouse.