The Pocket Bible or Christian the Printer Part 18

"Impossible. The house can not be left alone, children. Who will open the door to your father when he comes home? Besides, did not Master Simon send us yesterday a little bag of pearls to embroider on the velvet gown for the d.u.c.h.ess of Etampes? The pearls are of considerable value. I would feel very uneasy if these valuable articles remained without anybody to watch them. Knowing you are here, Herve, I shall feel easy on that score," remarked Bridget with a look of affectionate confidence that seemed to say to her son: "Yesterday you committed larceny; but you are now again an honorable boy; to-day I can entrust you with the guardians.h.i.+p of my treasure."

Herve divined his mother's thoughts. He raised her hand to his lips and said:

"Your trust in me shall be justified."

"Still, this very evening, shortly before nightfall, we left the house all alone for a walk along the river," objected Hena. "Why should we run any greater risk now, if we go out all three of us?"

"Dear daughter, it was then still light; the shops of our neighbors were still open; burglars would not have dared to make a descent upon us at such a time. At this hour, on the contrary, all the shops being closed, and the streets almost deserted, thieves are in season."

"And it is just at such an hour that you are going to expose yourself, mother."

"I have nothing about me to tempt the cupidity of thieves. Good-bye!

Good-bye, my children!" Bridget said hastily, and embracing Hena and her brother: "To-morrow morning, my dear girl, your father will take you to La Catelle's, where you will find me. We shall return home together.

Herve, light me downstairs."

Preceded by her son, who carried the lamp, Bridget quickly descended the stairs and left the house.

CHAPTER XII.

HERVE'S DEMENTIA.

No sooner had Herve closed the street door upon his mother than he slowly re-ascended the stairs to the upper chamber, saying to himself:

"It will take my mother an hour to reach La Catelle's house; at least as long to return; father will not be home until midnight; I have two full hours to myself. They shall be turned to profit."

Pressing with a convulsive hand against his heart the scapulary containing Tezel's letter of absolution, Herve entered the room in which Hena was left alone.

From the threshold Herve saw his sister on her knees. Astonished at her posture, he stepped towards her and asked:

"Hena, what are you doing?"

"I was praying to G.o.d that He may guard mother, and restore our friend to health," answered the young girl, rising; and she proceeded with a sigh: "My heart feels heavy. May no misfortune threaten us."

Saying this, the confiding girl sat down to her embroidery. Her brother took a seat beside her on a stool. After a few seconds he broke the silence:

"Hena, do you remember that about three months ago I suddenly changed towards you?"

Not a little surprised at these opening words, the young girl answered:

"Why recall those evil days, brother? Thank heaven, they are over; they will not return."

"Do you remember," Herve proceeded without noticing his sister's words, "do you remember that, so far from returning, I repelled your caresses?"

"I do not wish to remember that, Herve; I do not think of it now."

"Hena, the reason was I had made a strange discovery in my heart--I loved you!"

The young girl dropped her needle, turned suddenly towards her brother, and, fixing upon him her astonished eyes, looked at him for a moment in silence. Thereupon, smiling, and in accents of tender reproach, she said:

"How! Were you so long making the discovery that you loved me? And did the discovery seem to you--strange?"

"Yes," answered Herve, ignoring the childlike reproach implied in his sister's words; "yes, the discovery was slow--yes, it seemed to me strange. Long did I struggle against that sentiment; my nights were pa.s.sed sleepless."

"You slept no more because you loved me? That's odd!"

"Because I loved you--"

"Come, Herve, it is not handsome to joke about so painful a subject. Do you forget the sorrow that fell on us all when, all of a sudden, we saw you become so somber, so silent, and almost to seem indifferent to us?

Our dear little Odelin, who departed since then to Milan with Master Raimbaud, was probably less saddened by the thought of leaving us, than by your coolness for us all."

"Remorse gave me neither peace, nor rest. Alas, I say correctly, remorse."

"Remorse?" repeated the young girl stupefied. "I do not understand you."

"The tortures of my soul, coupled with a vague instinct of hope, drove me to the feet of a holy man. He listened to me at the confessional. He unrolled before my eyes the inexhaustible resources of the faith. Well, my remorse vanished; peace re-entered my heart. Now, Hena, I love you without remorse and without internal struggles. I love you in security."

"Well, if that is the game, I shall proceed with my embroidery," said the young girl; and picking up her needle, she resumed her work, adding in a playful tone: "Seeing that the Seigneur Herve loves me without remorse and in security, all is said--although, for my part, I do not fathom those big words 'struggles' and 'tortures' with regard to the return of the affection of the Seigneur Herve for a sister who loves him as much as she is beloved." But speedily dropping the spirit of banter and sadly raising her eyes to her brother's, she continued: "Here, my friend, I must quit jesting. You have long suffered. You seemed whelmed with a secret sorrow. Come, what was the cause? I am still in the dark thereon. Acquaint me with it."

"The cause was love for you, Hena!"

"Still at it? Come, Herve, I am but a very ignorant girl, beside you who know Latin. But when you say that the cause of your secret sorrow was your attachment for me--"

"I said love, Hena--"

"Love, attachment, tenderness--is it not all one?"

"You spoke to me day before yesterday of Brother St. Ernest-Martyr."

"I did. And only a short time ago I was talking about him with mother--"

Suddenly breaking off, Hena exclaimed: "Good G.o.d! Dear, good mother!

When I think of her being all alone at this hour on the street, without anyone to protect her!"

"Be not alarmed. Our mother runs no danger whatever."

"May heaven hear you, Herve!"

"Let us return to Brother St. Ernest-Martyr, of whom you were just before speaking with mother. Do you love the monk in the same manner that you love me?"

"Can the two things be compared? I have spent my life beside you; you are my brother--on the other hand, I have seen that poor monk but five or six times, and then for a minute only."

"You love him--do not lie!"

"My G.o.d! In what a tone you speak, Herve. I have nothing to conceal."