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"Forever? what do you mean, you little demon," returned the filibuster.
Angela arose and seated herself near the mulatto. While talking to him she pa.s.sed her hand through his hair with a cajoling coquetry which put the unhappy Croustillac beside himself.
"Your highness, one word, and my men shall rid you of this scoundrel,"
said De Chemerant, in an undertone, in pity for the Gascon.
"I shall know well how to avenge myself," said the adventurer sullenly, who no longer desired to prolong the scene; and so, turning to De Chemerant, continued, "Sir, leave me alone with these two wretches."
"But, your highness, this man appears strong and robust."
"Be easy, I will give a good account of him."
"If you will listen to me, your highness, we will leave at once; you will abandon to her remorse, a woman so unhappy as to thus forget her duty."
"Leave her? No, my heavens! Willingly or otherwise, she shall follow me--that will be my revenge."
"If your highness will permit me a remark: After a disclosure so scandalous, the sight of the d.u.c.h.ess can only be forever odious to you.
Let us go; forget such a guilty spouse; glory shall console you."
"Sir, I desire to speak to my wife," said Croustillac impatiently.
"But, your highness, this miserable----"
"Once more, am I a man without courage and without force, that such a rascal should intimidate me? Some domestic scenes must be secret. Will you await me in the next room? In a quarter of an hour I will be with you."
Croustillac said these words with an intonation so imperious, and with such an agonized manner, that De Chemerant bowed without persisting further. He went into a room the door of which the chevalier had opened, and which he immediately closed upon him.
Crossing the drawing room with quick steps, the adventurer entered suddenly into the room where the mulatto and Blue Beard were.
"Madame," said the Gascon with sorrowful indignation, "your conduct is abominable."
The mulatto, who was extended on the divan, arose quickly; he was about to speak; Angela with a glance begged him to do nothing. As much as Monmouth had generously desired to prevent the sacrifice of the chevalier when he believed this sacrifice disinterested, he was as much resolved not to make himself known when he believed the adventurer capable of an unworthy betrayal.
"Sir," said Angela coldly, to the Gascon, "the French emissary may still overhear us; let us go into another room."
She opened the door of Monmouth's own room, and entered, followed by the filibuster and Croustillac. The door once closed, the adventurer cried: "I repeat that you have shamefully abused my trust in you."
"I demand an explanation of your disloyal conduct," said Angela proudly.
"Explain yourself at once."
During this scene, Monmouth, gravely preoccupied, walked up and down the room with his arms folded, his eyes fixed on the carpet.
"You desire that I explain myself, madame? Oh, that will not take long!
First know that, right or wrong, I love you," cried Croustillac, in a burst of tenderness and anger.
"That is to say, that you have boasted to your fellow-travelers that you would marry the rich widow of Devil's Cliff?"
"So be it, madame; on board the Unicorn my language was impertinent, my pretensions absurd, madame; covetous, I admit. But when I spoke thus, when I thought thus, I had not seen you."
"The sight of me, sir, has not inspired you with ideas much more honorable," said Angela severely, still convinced that Croustillac wished to cruelly abuse the position in which he found himself.
"Hear me, madame; I love you truly; that is to say, that I was capable of anything to prove to you my love, absurd and stupid as it appears to you. Yes, I loved you, because my heart told me I did well to love you; because I felt myself better for loving you. You may laugh at this love; I was sufficiently repaid by the happiness it gave me. When you have said, 'Sir, I mock at you, I use you for a plaything, you are a poor devil, I have bestowed charity upon you, and you should be content therewith---- '"
"Sir!"
"When you have said all this, do not think that I was humiliated. No, that hurt me, hurt me much, but I quickly forgot this injury, when I saw that you understood that, poor as I am, I could be touched by something else than money. Then you said to me some kind words, you called me your friend--your friend! After this I would have thrown myself into the fire for you, and that for the sole pleasure of throwing myself into it, for I had nothing more to hope for from you; the time of my folly is past; I see too clearly into my heart not to recognize that I was a kind of mendicant buffoon; I can never have anything in common with a woman as beautiful and as young as you. My only ambition--and this can offend no one--would have been to devote myself to you. But how to have such happiness? I, a vagabond, with nothing but my old sword, my old hat, and my pink hose! Ah! well, by a chance which I at first blessed, Colonel Rutler to-night mistook me for him they call your husband; this mistake might be useful to you. Judge of my joy--I could save the man whom you so pa.s.sionately loved. I should have preferred to save something else, but I had no time to choose. I risked all, including the everlasting dagger of the colonel. I augmented, by every means possible, his double mistake. You came to my a.s.sistance; that is, you buried me in the mud up to the neck, by means of the bagatelles with which you loaded me. It is all the same--I go with all my heart; I am satisfied to do so, and I leave this house without hope of ever seeing you again, with the gallows or prison in prospect, not to count the everlasting dagger of the Dutchman. Ah, well, in spite of all, I repeat, I was content: I said to myself, I know not what awaits me, rope or dungeon; but I am sure Blue Beard will say, 'It is fortunate, very fortunate for us at least, that this eccentric Gascon came here. Poor devil! what has happened to him?'
There! that was my ambition. But I did not ask even a regret, a memory--a memory," said the Gascon, moved in spite of himself.
"Sir," said Angela, "as long as I believed you really generous, my grat.i.tude did not fail you."
These words increased the Gascon's wrath; he exclaimed, "Your grat.i.tude, madame! Zounds! it is beautiful. But to proceed. We started from this place with the Belgian. In descending the hill we met the French emissary. Rutler at once believed himself betrayed, and made a furious lunge at me with his everlasting dagger. These are the fruits of devotion. If the blade had not broken, I should have been killed.
Nothing is simpler; when one sacrifices oneself for others, it is hardly with the expectation of being crowned with roses, or caressed by nymphs of the woods. Well, the dagger broke; one of the men throttled Rutler; I found myself face to face with the French emissary. I did not lose my head. It was a matter touching you and the unhappy exile whom you loved pa.s.sionately. I would rather it had been your father or your uncle, but I had no choice. Beside, the idea of being useful to two young and interesting people threw my egotism into the background. The greater the complications the more my pride incited me to save you. I redoubled my audacity and coolness. The great but honest falsehoods I have uttered for you should absolve me from those which I have spoken for an unworthy cause. The good G.o.d took up the cause; I was inspired to the greatest falsehoods you can imagine; they were swallowed up as eagerly by the French envoy as if it had been manna from on high. I played my role with all my might. Monsieur De Chemerant told me in two words the object of his mission; an insurrection favored by the King of France was on foot in England; if the Duke of Monmouth were to put himself at the head of the affair its success was a.s.sured."
Monmouth made a movement and stealthily exchanged glances with Angela.
The Gascon continued: "When I was on the way to an English prison with the Belgian and his everlasting dagger I did not breathe a word. I was well protected from any wish to return here. But when De Chemerant confided to me a thing of possible advantage to the prince, I had no right to refuse it for him. I therefore accepted in his name all manner of viceroyalties. But, if he really desired to take part in this uprising, how was I to let him know? Monsieur De Chemerant desired to set sail at once. By what means could I return here with the envoy of France without exposing the duke, who was ignorant of my last adventure and believed me still to be the Belgian's prisoner, thinking, doubtless, that he was secure here? An idea seized me. I said to De Chemerant, 'Things have changed their aspect; I desire to take my wife with me.
Come, let us return to Devil's Cliff.' Faith, it was the only way in which I could manage an interview with you, madame--of warning the prince of this proposal. If he accepted it, I would throw off the prince; if he refused, I would refuse as before, and he would be saved."
"How, sir!" cried Angela. "Such was your generous intention? You would----"
"Oh, wait, madame, wait; do not think me either more stupid or more generous than I am," said the Gascon bitterly. "I begged Father Griffen to come and prepare you, madame, that I desired to take you with me.
Chemerant heard me; I could say no more to the priest, but this sufficed. One of two things would result: either you would understand the situation or you would believe me guilty of infamous intentions; in either case, you would be on your guard, and the prince saved; for it was my fixed idea----"
"So, sir," cried Angela, looking at him with mingled surprise and grat.i.tude, "you did not really intend to abuse----"
The Gascon interrupted her shortly. "No, madame, no. I had then no such wicked intentions, though certain particulars of your life appear to me inexplicable. I believed you sincerely attached to an unhappy prince, and at any cost I would have saved the duke."
"Ah! sir, how I have misjudged you? You are the most generous of men,"
cried Angela.
The adventurer burst into a sardonic laugh, which stupefied the young woman; then he continued with a somber air:
"Thank G.o.d, my eyes have been opened. I see now that generosity would be stupid, devotion foolish. I shall profit by this lesson. Polypheme de Croustillac rarely revenges himself, but when he does, he revenges himself well; above all, when the vengeance is as charming as that which awaits him."
"You would be revenged, sir," said Angela, "and on whom?"
"On whom, madame? You have the audacity to ask me that?"
"Why, certainly, what have I done; why this hatred?"
The adventurer stamped his foot so violently that the mulatto made a step toward him; but Croustillac curbed himself and said to Angela shortly, and with ironical bitterness, "Listen to me, madame. It seems to me, that without being possessed of colossal pride, I deserved something, when for you I threw myself into the midst of the most dangerous situations. It seems to me, madame," continued the Gascon, who could not contain his indignation, which increased in measure as he spoke, "It seems to me that it was not at the moment when, at the risk of my life, I was doing all I could to save the husband whom you love so pa.s.sionately, as they say, that it was not at such a time that you should forget all modesty----"
"Sir!"
"Yes, madame, forget all modesty, all shame, by throwing yourself into the arms of this miserable mulatto, and go to the depth of lighting his pipe. Truly, I was very stupid," continued the Gascon with an increase of rage. "In my devotion to you I risked my skin for the husband of madame! while madame, outrageously mocking her husband and me, abandoned herself to orgies with a lot of scamps. I am beside myself! My mother's son does not merit having been born in my country and having played all manner of pranks, as they say, in the capital of the world, if he cannot find something, in his turn, to laugh at in this adventure. In a word, madame," he said, sullenly, "you can believe me to entertain the wickedest intention in the world, and you will not overstep the reality, for I am now as much your enemy as I was your friend. As for the rest, I am well pleased; nothing is more wearying than fine sentiments. I should have resumed my shepherd songs and my morning sonnets. I shall take good care not to do so. I prefer the fas.h.i.+on in which I love you now, rather than heretofore," said Croustillac, throwing a glittering look at Angela.