Mysteries of Paris Volume II Part 88

Neither the duke nor Clotilde paid any attention to him. Knowing how quickly Madame de Lucenay decided on anything, he imagined that she pushed her audacity and contempt so far that she wished to play the coquette openly and before him with the young duke.

It was not so; the d.u.c.h.ess felt for her young cousin an affection quite maternal. But the young duke was so handsome, he seemed so happy at the gracious reception of his young cousin, that Florestan was exasperated by jealousy, or rather by pride; his heart writhed under the cruel stings of envy, inspired by Conrad de Montbrison, who, rich and charming, entered so splendidly this life of pleasures, which he was leaving--he, ruined, despised, disgraced.

Saint Remy was brave--with the bravery of the head, if we may so express it, which, through anger or vanity, causes one to face a duel; but vile and corrupted, he had not that courage of the heart which triumphs over evil propensities, or which at least gives one the energy to escape infamy by a voluntary death.

Furious at the sovereign contempt of the d.u.c.h.ess, thinking he saw a successor in the young duke, Saint Remy resolved to match the insolence of Clotilde, and, if it was necessary, to select a quarrel with Conrad. The d.u.c.h.ess, irritated at the audacity of Florestan, did not look at him; and Montbrison, in his attraction toward his cousin, forgetting the usages of society, had neither bowed nor said a word to the viscount, whom he knew perfectly.

He advanced toward Conrad, whose back was turned toward him, touched his arm lightly, and said, in an ironical and dry tone, "Good-evening, your grace; a thousand pardons for not having perceived you before."

Montbrison, feeling that he had been wanting in politeness, turned quickly, and said, cordially, "Sir, I am confused, truly, but I dare hope that my cousin, who has caused my want of attention, will be pleased to make my excuses, and--"

"Conrad!" said the d.u.c.h.ess, incensed at the impudence of Florestan, who persisted in remaining and braving her; "Conrad, it is right; no excuses; it is not worth the trouble."

Montbrison, believing that his cousin reproached him in a playful manner for being too formal, said gayly to the viscount, who was white with rage, "I shall not insist, sir, since my cousin forbids. You see her tutelage commences."

"And this tutelage will not stop there, my dear sir, be quite a.s.sured.

Thus, in this view of the case (which her grace the d.u.c.h.ess will readily approve, I do not doubt), an idea has just struck me to make you a proposition."

"Me, sir?" said Conrad, beginning to dislike the sneering tone of Florestan.

"You. I leave in some days for Gerolstein. I wish to dispose of my house, all furnished, and my stables; you also should make _an arrangement_." The viscount emphasized these last words, looking at Madame de Lucenay. "It would be very piquant, would it not, your grace?"

"I do not comprehend you, sir," said Montbrison, more and more astonished.

"I will tell you, Conrad, why you cannot accept the offer which has been made you," said Clotilde.

"And why cannot his grace accept my offer, madame?"

"My dear Conrad, that which is proposed to be sold to you is already sold to others. You comprehend? You would have the inconvenience of being robbed as on the highway."

Florestan bit his lips with rage. "Take care, madame," cried he.

"How? threats here?" said Conrad.

"Come now, Conrad, pay no attention," said Madame de Lucenay, eating a bonbon imperturbably. "A man of honor ought not, nor may not, commit himself with this gentleman. If he insists, I will tell you wherefore."

A terrible scene was perhaps about to take place, when the doors were again thrown open, and the Duke de Lucenay entered, and, according to custom, with much noise and disturbance.

"How, my dear! not ready?" said he to his wife. "Why, it is astonis.h.i.+ng--surprising! Good-evening, Saint Remy; good-evening, Conrad. Oh, you see before you the most despairing of men--that is to say, I cannot sleep; I cannot eat; I am stupefied; I cannot get used to it. Poor D'Harville, what an event!" And M. de Lucenay, throwing himself backward on a sofa, threw his hat from him with a gesture of despair, and, crossing his left leg over the right knee, he took his foot in his hand, continuing to utter exclamations of grief.

The emotions of Conrad and Florestan had time to be subdued before M.

de Lucenay, the least observing man in the world, had perceived anything.

Madame de Lucenay, not from embarra.s.sment--she was not a woman to be untimely embarra.s.sed--but the presence of Florestan was repugnant and unsupportable, said to the duke, "When you are ready, we will go. I am to present Conrad to Madame de Senneval."

"No!" said the duke; and, throwing down a cus.h.i.+on, he arose quickly, and began to walk about, violently gesticulating. "I cannot help but think of poor D'Harville; can you, Saint Remy?"

"Truly, a frightful event!" said the viscount, who, with hatred and rage in his heart, sought the looks of Montbrison; but he, after the last words of his cousin, not from want of courage, but from pride, turned away from a man so terribly debased.

"Pray, my lord," said the d.u.c.h.ess to her husband, "do not regret M.

d'Harville in a manner so noisy, and, above all, so singularly. Ring, if you please, for my servants."

"Only to think," said M. de Lucenay, seizing hold of the bell-pull, "three days ago he was full of life, and now, what remains of him?

Nothing, nothing, nothing!" These last three exclamations were accompanied by three pulls of the bell so violent, that the cord broke which he held in his hand, separated from the upper string, and fell upon a candelabra filled with waxlights, and overturned two; one fell upon the mantelpiece, and broke a beautiful little vase of Sevres china; the other rolled on the ground, and set fire to a rug of ermine, which, for a moment in a blaze, was almost immediately extinguished by Conrad.

At the same moment, two valets, summoned by the loud ringing, arrived in haste, and found M. de Lucenay with the bell rope in his hand, the d.u.c.h.ess laughing violently at this ridiculous cascade of candies, and Montbrison partaking the hilarity of his cousin.

Saint Remy alone did not laugh.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPITAL AND LABOR IN HARMONY ]

Lucenay, quite habituated to such accidents, preserved a serious countenance; he threw the rope to one of the servants, and said, "The coach!"

When he became a little more calm, the d.u.c.h.ess said, "Really, sir, there is no one else in the world but yourself who could have caused a laugh at so lamentable an event."

"Lamentable! you may well say frightful! horrible! Now, only see, since yesterday I have been thinking how many persons there are, even in my own family, who I would rather should have died than poor D'Harville. My nephew Emberval, for instance, who is so tiresome with his stammering; or your aunt Merinville, who is always talking of her nerves, her blues, and who swallows every day, while waiting for her dinner, an abominable potpie, just like a bricklayer's wife! Do you think much of your aunt Merinville?"

"Hus.h.!.+ your grace is crazy!" said the d.u.c.h.ess, shrugging her shoulders.

"But it is true," answered the duke; "one would give a hundred indifferent persons for a friend. Is it not so, Saint Remy?"

"Doubtless."

"It is always that old story of the tailor. Do you know, Conrad, the story of the tailor?"

"No, cousin."

"You will understand at once the allegory. A tailor was condemned to be hung; there was no other tailor in the village; what do the inhabitants do? They said to the judge, 'Your honor, we have only one tailor, and we have three shoemakers; if it is all the same to you to hang one of the shoemakers in the place of the tailor, we shall have quite enough with two shoemakers.' Do you comprehend the allegory, Conrad?"

'Yes, cousin."

"And you, Saint Remy?"

"I also."

"The coach," said one of the servants.

"Oh! but why do you not wear your diamonds?" said M. de Lucenay, unexpectedly; "with this dress they would look devilish well."

Saint Remy shuddered.

"For one poor little time that we go out together," continued the duke, "you might have honored me with your diamonds. They are really very handsome. Have you ever seen them, Saint Remy?"

"Yes; his lords.h.i.+p knows them by heart," said Clotilde. "Give me your arm, Conrad."

Lucenay followed the d.u.c.h.ess with Saint Remy, who was almost beside himself with rage.

"Are you not coming with us to the Sennevals'?" said Lucenay to him.