The King's Warrant Part 5

Perhaps the marchioness, with her childish silliness of character, might not have found it so easy to prevail over her husband's firmness and good sense in such a matter, had she not been supported and counselled by the Baroness de Valricour, of whom, to own the truth, the marquis always stood in awe. n.o.body knew this better than the clever and strong-minded lady herself; for the last twenty years, indeed, she had decided most questions that arose at the Chateau de Beaujardin, although the marquis not unfrequently regretted this when it was too late for him to recede from an over hasty concurrence. Now, however, the great aim of the baroness' life might be accomplished. Those were days when the inclinations of the persons really most interested were held of small account in family alliances, and if Madame de Valricour could only obtain a complete ascendancy over her weak sister-in-law, the success of her plan was certain. That ascendancy she had at last achieved, and the game seemed to be in her hands.

The return of Isidore to France had of course been the great event of the autumn, and the chateau had been even more than usually thronged with visitors during the six months that succeeded his arrival. Madame de Valricour had managed matters with her accustomed dexterity, and although she had not yet brought Isidore to the point of formally avowing himself as a suitor for the hand of Clotilde, she was satisfied that all was going right, and was too wary to spoil all by precipitancy. The baroness fancied she knew Isidore better even than he knew himself, and secretly rejoiced to find his visits to Valricour become more and more frequent, and his walks in the forest with Clotilde, accompanied by Marguerite for propriety's sake, more and more prolonged. At last she thought the pear was ripe, and she took a decided step in order to bring the affair to an issue. Let us see what came of it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Headpiece to Chapter II]

CHAPTER II.

Whether or not there was in that part of France a more charming view than that from the terrace of the Chateau de Valricour, there certainly was not in all France on that bright May morning a more happy pair than the two young people who sat side by side, each clasping the other's hand, in one of the pleasant trellised arbours which from either end of the terrace overlooked the pleasant scene. And yet, perhaps, those who think the beautiful in nature inconsistent with strongly marked and striking features, might consider that true happiness and prosperity, so called, could not co-exist with such intense excitement and such bewildering surprise as just then rendered Isidore and Marguerite for some minutes incapable of expressing what they felt.

"I can scarcely believe it possible. O Isidore! are you quite sure that there is no strange mistake in it all?"

"Nay, read for yourself, my darling one," he replied, once more unfolding the letter which he held in his hand, and quietly withdrawing the other to point to the words that had brought out the pa.s.sionate declaration he had but just made to her.

"See here! After a few lines about my uncle Valricour, this is what my father says. You do not know him as well as I do, but you see he is not one to allow any silly notions about fortune or n.o.ble descent to stand in the way of what he believes to be right."

Marguerite took the letter, and though still trembling with excitement, managed to read as follows:

"And now, my dear son, I must allude to a very different matter.

Madame de Valricour writes to me that you have lost your heart, and that although for reasons, which, she says, she quite understands, you have not made it known, she thinks it time that I should intervene. I think so too; and I do so the more willingly as I doubt not that your reticence and hesitation in this matter has arisen from a natural feeling that I might be opposed to your union with one who is not your equal in point of rank, and who will not, I fancy, bring you a sou in the way of marriage portion. Well, I will ease your mind at once. To you, and therefore to me, money can be no object. As an old soldier myself I might well be content to receive as my daughter-in-law even one who could boast of no higher t.i.tle than that of a brave soldier's daughter; in any case, your wife will be the Marquise de Beaujardin, so, a.s.suming that Madame de Valricour is correct in her supposition, I see no reason why I should go out of my way to thwart a son who has ever deserved my affection, and has proved himself likewise to be worthy of the name of a good soldier."

The letter dropped from her hands. "Isidore, Isidore! what have you done?" said she in a tone that had in it no trace of the delight he had antic.i.p.ated. "O Isidore! your fond heart has blinded you. What shall I do? Isidore, you have brought ruin on your dear self, and all for me!"

Astonished and disconcerted at this unexpected outburst, Isidore would have endeavoured to calm her, but as he took her hand in his she uttered a slight cry, and on looking round he beheld Madame de Valricour standing only a few paces from them, regarding them apparently with speechless amazement.

However much the young marquis might have lost his self-possession when he and Marguerite were the only actors in the scene, the appearance of Madame de Valricour at once brought back his usual command over himself, although he certainly was somewhat puzzled at the blank expression of her face at that moment.

"I would apologise to you, my dear aunt," said he, "for allowing myself to be caught at such a very sentimental crisis, but that I know that it is to you and no one else that I owe my happiness at this moment, and----"

He stopped short, for the blank look had suddenly changed into one so fiercely angry that anything further in the way of complimentary speeches was not to be thought of, and a dead pause ensued.

"Leave us, Mademoiselle Lacroix!" cried Madame de Valricour vehemently.

Marguerite hesitated, her reluctance to leave Isidore alone in so painful a dilemma, overcoming even her habitual deference to Madame de Valricour; but Isidore, who felt that he should be more free to speak or act if unembarra.s.sed by her presence, quietly led her away from the spot. Then, after raising her hand to his lips, he returned to the baroness and addressed her thus--

"I am utterly at a loss to understand you, my aunt--you, to whom I was about to offer my warmest thanks for so kindly smoothing the way to my union with Mademoiselle Lacroix."

"I!" exclaimed the baroness, apparently forgetting her indignation for a moment in her amazement. "I! Who says this? It is false! There is some ridiculous mistake here--or rather some shameful trick. You have not dared, sir, to make the girl believe that----"

"Calm yourself, my good aunt," replied Isidore, interrupting her. "As for trick or deception, I shall not insult either you or myself by further noticing words spoken in a hasty moment. As for any mistake, you or my father must answer for that, if there is any. He tells me you have written to him on the subject, and he has expressed his approval of my choice."

"It is false, absolutely false!" exclaimed the baroness, pa.s.sionately.

"When--where has the marquis told you this? Show me the letter. It is a cheat which you would put both upon me and this girl. Show me the letter, I say!"

"If Madame de Valricour doubts my word," answered Isidore haughtily, "she will have to satisfy herself elsewhere. I am not in the habit of substantiating my a.s.sertions."

"I say again it is false," reiterated the incensed baroness, forgetting her usual caution. "I wrote to your father about you and Clotilde. Do you dare to tell me that he has bidden you to marry some one else? If you are not a base and unworthy trickster, then you must be the veriest idiot alive."

A single lens may not, perhaps, suffice to make an object visible, but place another in juxtaposition with it and suddenly all becomes clear and distinct. Isidore recalled the piteous words uttered by Marguerite as she dropped the letter, and the truth flashed across his mind at once.

Madame de Valricour had thrown herself into a chair as she concluded her tirade, for the collected way in which her nephew had at first listened to her, and his high and mighty air, seemed to belie any charge of duplicity at all events. But when she noticed the alarmed expression of his face, and the no less unmistakable change in his manner, she was on her feet again in a moment and was about to renew the attack, but he interrupted her.

"Pardon me, my aunt," said he, "it is worse than useless for us two to discuss this business. I am afraid I have made a mistake indeed, and one that is like enough to cause no little bitterness and trouble. Yet I do not regret it for one moment," he added, as he thought of the few loving words with which Marguerite had confessed her long-cherished affection for him. "Whatever you may think, my aunt, I have acted honestly and in good faith, and it will rest with my father to decide how all this is to end. I shall appeal to him at once. Nay, I beseech you, my good aunt," he continued, seeing the baroness about to break forth again, "let us not make things worse by useless altercation.

With your permission I will relieve you of my presence, and will desire Jasmin to order our horses that I may return at once to Beaujardin."

Without giving Madame de Valricour time for any further comment, Isidore then bowed to her and withdrew.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Tailpiece to Chapter II]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Headpiece to Chapter III]

CHAPTER III.

Isidore had scarcely quitted the terrace before he was accosted by Clotilde's maid, who begged him to come to her young mistress without delay, and he soon reached his fair cousin's boudoir. He found her trying to cheer up poor Marguerite, but not very successfully, it must be owned, for Clotilde's spirits were always of the highest, and her thoughtless raillery increased rather than allayed her friend's distress.

"Mercy on us!" she exclaimed as Isidore made his appearance. "If any one ever deserved the name of 'the knight of the rueful countenance' it is certainly my doughty cousin. Well, if men put on that dismal face when their lady-loves accept them, I shall certainly always say 'no'

for their sakes, if not for my own."

"Nay, but, my dear, sweet cousin," said Isidore, "I entreat you to be serious for half an hour, or even for a few minutes, if you can. Has not Marguerite told you?"

"She has told me that you have fallen in love with her, and I suppose that mamma does not like it. I have not got further than that as yet, and I do not think that is anything so very, very awful."

"Not if that were really all, my dear cousin; but the baroness, it seems, had taken it into her head that I was in love with you. It is too absurd. Can you imagine anything so ridiculous?"

"I am infinitely obliged to you for your politeness, Monsieur de Beaujardin, in supposing it to be so very ridiculous that any one should fall in love with _me_. Why, there is my devoted cousin, the Duke de St. Menehould, who would make me his d.u.c.h.ess any day, if I had but a million of livres for my dowry, to say nothing of the Sieur de Crillon, who declares he is dying for me, and would have married mo long ago, if mamma had not made up her mind that I should have my most uncivil cousin de Beaujardin. Dear me, only think, though, how dreadful it would have been if mamma had fancied I was in love with you!"

"Do, pray, be serious," replied Isidore. "Can you not see, Clotilde, that your mother is not one to be thwarted with impunity in any scheme she has formed. This affair may, if I cannot conciliate my father, prove fatal to my whole life's happiness, and, what is infinitely worse, to dear Marguerite's also."

"Isidore! Isidore!" exclaimed the latter, pa.s.sionately, "do not think of me; I am only distressed and unhappy for your sake. If I can only save you from harm, I will do anything. O Isidore! I will give up everything, even your dear self, though I shall never cease to love you."

There was a pause as Isidore put his arm around her, as if to rea.s.sure her of his steadfastness, and gently kissed her forehead. Even Clotilde was subdued.

"I am afraid that you are right, and that it is a serious business after all," said she. "Mamma is ever either a good friend or a bitter enemy; but all must depend on my uncle, so do not lose a moment, my good cousin, but be off to Beaujardin at once. In the meanwhile I will do what I can to soothe mamma and comfort Marguerite. Yes, sir, although it is so very absurd to think of any one falling in love with me, I won't bear malice, but behave like a generous heroine to my odious rival here. There, off with you, and let us hear all about it as soon as you can."

The advice was obviously too sensible to be disregarded, and Isidore at once proceeded to summon his valet, Monsieur Jasmin, for the purpose of ordering the horses and packing up for the journey. In the corridor he came upon the very person he sought, and, perhaps somewhat curtly, gave him the needful directions.

News travels apace in such households, where there is often enough some scheming underling, who makes it his business to know everything about everybody. Monsieur Jasmin had long since satisfied himself that Mademoiselle Marguerite, and not Mademoiselle Clotilde, had won his young master's heart; he knew, moreover, that the baroness had set her heart on a union between the two families, and the rumour that there had been a scene between madame and the young marquis, and that Marguerite had fled to Clotilde's boudoir in tears, did not surprise him much. Nevertheless he affected to be astonished at so abrupt a departure, and, overdoing his part a little, as the most clever people sometimes do, he exclaimed--

"But, monsieur, it is impossible! Surely monsieur does not think of such a thing?"