The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau Volume Ii Part 33

"Yes, and then I expect to see you again; you will not be afraid to come to my house? you won't bear me a grudge?"

"No, no, monsieur, I shall be at your service."

"I still have a--a certain handkerchief of yours; I am keeping it as a sacred trust; but do not fear, I will return it whenever it is likely to be of any use to you."

"Oh! I don't want it, monsieur. You know better than I if I can--if I ought to hope to find my parents some day. But no, I probably shall never find them, and I had better give up thinking about them, hadn't I, monsieur?"

"You must come to see me in Paris; I shall probably return next week.

Georget will let you know."

"Georget! do you think he will speak to me?"

"I think that he will ask nothing better; for he has been very unhappy about not coming to Paris these last few days, the poor boy!"

"Oh! how kind you are to tell me that, monsieur!"

And tears of joy glistened in the pretty flower girl's eyes. The count, with a friendly nod, walked away, bidding her au revoir, and leaving in the girl's heart so much joy and happiness that there was no room there for the memory of her past sorrow.

While these things were taking place in Paris, Chicotin, seeing that Violette had recovered her health, had started early in the morning, on foot, for Nogent, in order to tell Georget all that had happened to the young flower girl.

Chicotin had found his former comrade walking sadly back and forth on the lawn in front of the count's house, gazing with a melancholy air at the Paris road, by which Monsieur de Brevanne had departed, without bidding him accompany him, and wondering why he went to Paris so often.

At sight of his friend, Georget uttered a joyful exclamation and threw himself into Chicotin's arms; whereupon the latter, without stopping to rest or to take breath, proceeded to tell his comrade all that had happened to Violette,--her journey to Nogent, her despair, her illness, and finally her recovery.

It would be difficult to describe Georget's state during this narrative; listening intently, choking with grief, weeping and uttering cries of joy in turn, he exclaimed:

"She is not guilty! what joy! poor girl, turned away, determined to die!

Oh! mon Dieu! I should have died too!"

He hardly gave his friend time to finish his story; he leaped on his neck, embraced him, kissed him again and again, stammering in a voice broken by sobs:

"It was you who saved her; it was due to you that she did not throw herself into the ca.n.a.l, where she would have died; for so late at night no one would have seen her, no one would have taken her out of the water! Ah! I love you almost as much as I do her; I pray for only one thing, and that is, that I may be able to prove my grat.i.tude some day!"

"Well, well! what a silly fellow! here's a lot of talk for the simplest kind of an action: a man sees a girl trying to kill herself, and prevents her--I should like to know if that thing isn't done every day; any boy in the street would do as much."

"So it was really she who came here! My heart guessed it, but that cruel man deceived me; he told me that it wasn't she, because he had made her cry and had turned her out of the house with harsh words! Oh! that was shameful, and I will not stay any longer in a house where Violette received such an affront. Wait here for me, Chicotin."

"What are you going to do?"

"Pack up my things, and I'll go away with you; my mother will come after us."

"Bah! more nonsense! what does this mean? You mean to leave a man who has never been anything but kind to you, in such a way as this, without even saying good-bye to him? A man who, when your mother was sick and you hadn't a sou, gave you all that you needed to take care of her; a man who has taken you into his family, with your mother, and quartered you in this little chateau, where you are living like pigs in clover--you yourself said so? Well! that would be pretty! and you talk of grat.i.tude, and this is the way you propose to treat your protector!"

"What difference does it make what he has done for me? He made Violette so unhappy by turning her out of this house that she wanted to die, and that she would have died without you!"

"As if he could have guessed that! You must see that this gentleman must know Violette's parents, and that they have played some vile trick on him, and that there's some deviltry in all this that we don't know about."

"I don't care; I propose to go to Paris and ask her to forgive me for suspecting her."

"So far as that goes, you will do well; but that ain't any reason for leaving your protector, for behaving mean to him, and I don't propose----"

"Hus.h.!.+ here he is!'"

Monsieur de Brevanne had returned from Paris. He saw the two young men.

He observed Georget's excitement and agitation, and, divining a part of the truth, he went at once to his protege, and asked him, pointing to Chicotin:

"Who is this young man?"

"He is a friend of mine, monsieur, an old comrade; he is Chicotin, whom I've mentioned to you once or twice."

"Ah! yes, I remember. What does he want?"

"He came, monsieur, to tell me that Violette tried to throw herself into the water, when she left this house after you had driven her away; for it was she, monsieur, it was really she who came here, and you told me that it wasn't.--Poor Violette! but for him she would not be alive, and I--my mother would not have any son!"

Georget burst into sobs. Chicotin twisted his face and mouth, and did his utmost not to weep with his friend. Monsieur de Brevanne, who was deeply moved himself, tapped Chicotin on the shoulder, saying to him:

"You are a fine fellow; I shall not forget it."

Chicotin took off his hat and pa.s.sed the back of his hand over his nose and eyes.

"And you, Georget," continued the count, "you are very angry with me, aren't you? But your young friend Violette has made her peace with me; won't you do as she has done?"

"Violette! monsieur has seen Violette? Is it possible?"

"Yes, my dear boy, and to-day isn't the first time that I have tried to express to her my regret for what had taken place. On the very next day after her unfortunate journey, I went to Paris expressly to see her; but she was not in her place; you must have noticed that I went to Paris several days in succession."

"That is true, monsieur."

"It was always in the hope of meeting Violette; but I did not find her."

"Because she was sick, monsieur," cried Chicotin; "because she was confined to her bed with fever."

"I know it, my boy; she told me all that just now; but she is in her place to-day; and now she is not angry with me any more, and she hopes that you will not be angry with her, Georget; for I told her that you would go to see her; did I do right?"

Georget, who pa.s.sed as quickly from wrath to affection as from sadness to joy, seized Monsieur de Brevanne's hand and squeezed it violently, crying:

"I was wrong to think that you were unkind, I ought to have known that it was impossible. Oh! let me go at once to see her, monsieur, to ask her pardon for thinking her guilty, to tell her that I have never ceased to love her."

"To-day? Why, it is quite late."

"It is only four o'clock, monsieur, and at six I shall be in Paris; at ten o'clock I will be back again. You will let me go, won't you, monsieur?"

"As I made you unhappy, I must make up for it."

"Ah, monsieur!"

"Go; I will tell your mother that I sent you to Paris on an errand; do not come back until to-morrow morning in order not to run the risk of being on the road so late."