The Maid of Honour Volume I Part 4

Here was one ready for conversion! Clovis woke up, and drawing his chair closer, detailed with eager admiration the triumphs of the prophet, to which the baron listened with the polite sceptical smile that becomes one who is a n.o.ble--a superior person--and knows it.

Gabrielle looked grave and apologetic. The ground was slippery, and the baroness, agile, despite her figure, again jumped into the breach.

"Yes. Just one more dish of tea, my sweetest marquise," she cried, "and then we must go home to Montbazon. When you come to see us, if you like to walk, you have only to cross the river in a boat, you know, and the distance by the bridle-path is nothing. But I would not wander alone if I were you, there are such sinister men about. Do you know--of course you don't--that you've a nice thorn in your own side that will soon p.r.i.c.k you--he! he! That Jean Boulot of yours is a shocking character, one of the odious, deceitful, crawling kind, which is the worst of all!"

"Nothing of the sort, my dear!" interrupted the baron. "His opinions are regretable, but he is a rough, honest fellow who professes a humble fondness for the de Breze family, which does him honour!"

"And in the same breath he derides the aristocracy!" retorted the old lady, with a giggle.

"Which can well look after itself!" replied her husband.

"Take my advice, dear, and get rid of him, or you'll regret it," urged the baroness.

"He's a confidential servant, who was born and bred here!" objected Gabrielle. "He and those who went before have always served us well, and Jean would not hurt a hair of any of our heads, I warrant. He did something silly the other day in the way of talking nonsense, and my father rated him for it. That episode is over and forgotten."

"He's a democrat, or worse, if possible," a.s.serted the baroness with many nods. "Capable of anything, my dear; get rid of him; a scorpion!"

she continued, wagging her head; and content with this first impression, the old lady gathered up her wraps, and with an elaborate curtsey, swept away the family, delighted with the effect she had produced.

Neither Gabrielle nor Clovis were equally charmed. These tiresome people were their only neighbours! Then it must be solitude indeed.

Angelique seemed a nice girl enough; but the baroness was overwise in her own conceit; and the baron ridiculously puffed with the overweening vanity of cla.s.s. If the pair were to live absolutely alone, Gabrielle, doubting her own strength of will and power of fascination, already trembled for her experiment. Where could society be found which should rub off the jagged edges of a _tete-a-tete_? The chateaux round about were unoccupied. n.o.body dwelt at Blois except bourgeoisie and common persons. Perhaps this move into the desert had been imprudent. Well, if it proved disastrous, they could return to Paris and no harm done, considering how far apart they had drifted already. A little society--just two or three congenial persons--would make all the difference; but where might such fowls be caught?

What of this communication about Jean Boulot? surely it was idle t.i.ttle-tattle, born in the murky brain of a stupid old woman. He a scorpion on the hearth, to be got rid of before he could sting? The charge was ridiculous, and yet demanded attention, considering the Bastile episode such a brief while ago. And he was engaged to Toinon too. Under the seal of strictest secrecy that damsel had shared her delicious secret with her foster-sister, and the latter with a hearty kiss had wished her joy. It was only fair to both the lovers that the matter should be cleared up, and to that end the damsel must be cross-examined.

When charged with the lamentable leanings of her affianced, Toinon made no attempt to laugh the matter off. She was fain to confess herself disappointed in Jean Boulot. He was too straightforward to stoop to knavery. You only had to look into his fearless, clear grey eyes to be a.s.sured of it; but his sentiments were distressing. He told his love when she remonstrated that reason and justice could only be departed from by paths watered with tears; and when she retorted that he would certainly be hanged if he were heard to indulge in such talk, he only shrugged his shoulders and remarked that the gallows were made for the unlucky. In the middle of an impressive lecture he s.n.a.t.c.hed a kiss and laughed, and actually confessed with something that looked like pride that he had just been selected from among his fellows to be chief of some new society. He was constantly moving about among the rustics discoursing about the improvement of their condition at the expense of a superior cla.s.s. All Toinon could be sure of was that Jean was beyond her control. Perhaps madame might succeed in managing the young man and bring him to a sense of his enormities.

The experiment was not crowned with success, for instead of confessing his sins with a _mea culpa_, Jean smiled and delivered himself of various mysterious hints. "Never you fear," he a.s.serted, cheerfully, "whatever may happen by and by, you and yours shall be defended with my best blood; not but what a glimpse of your sweet face will be enough to calm the boys, however spitefully inclined. As to the others--H'm!"

Enigmatical and unsatisfactory.

It was certainly very dull in the desert; and before many weeks were over, the marquise was prepared secretly to admit that her father had judged rightly. She was no nearer to her husband here than in Paris; and caught herself longing more and more for those two or three congenial persons who were unattainable. It is all very well to wrap yourself in your children, to watch the young intelligence unfolding tender leaves, to mark and record with little thrills of joy each new sally of infant wit; but carefully nurtured babes retire early to the nest, and long evening hours have to be got through which are apt to hang heavy on the hands. There was absolutely no one to talk to, Gabrielle was not of a studious turn, avoiding the library as a close and musty place, had no _penchant_ for embroidery, cared not to tinkle on a spinette. Clovis, on the other hand, professed himself delighted with the unbroken solitude where there was n.o.body to plague him with politics; employed his time in writing reams to Mesmer, and counting the days which must elapse before he could receive replies. When weary of considering the pros and cons of the prophet's theories, he locked himself in his study, and could be heard far into the night groaning sonatas on his 'cello. Oh, that 'cello! Its moans were extremely wearing to Gabrielle's nerves, for it always suggested to her a coffin with some one in agony inside. Weave new bands of affection, forsooth, far from the madding crowd! How doleful a deception was hers.

The marquis seemed to have forgotten that he was father of two cherubs, was certainly oblivious of the fact that his better half was a reigning beauty, who, in her prime was self-deposed. Sometimes he would sally forth on solitary rides, and return, depressed and dumb, to fall asleep in his chair. It was certain that the pair were drifting more fatally distant from each other in the country even than in town. This was not life, but vegetation; sure any change would be a G.o.dsend.

At one moment the hapless marquise thought of summoning a bevy of the danglers whom she had loftily pretended to despise; but, if they were to come--unable to get on with Clovis--how were they to be amused? At another time she was on the point of imploring the marechal and his wife to break the bonds of dulness by a visit, but then again she hesitated. How was she to parry her father's anxious questions, how avoid his sympathetic eyes? No. Come what might, she would bear what she must bear, and veil her wounds from her beloved ones.

Now and again the de Vaux family drove over to spend the afternoon, and the visit was in due course returned; but though all parties were punctiliously civil and vowed they enjoyed themselves immensely, it was clear to both families that no intimacy could arise between them.

Gabrielle was almost driven to lower her flag and retire from the field; was indeed debating how she should set about it with dignity, when that for which she craved was suddenly tossed into her lap.

One morning, the marquis actually so far broke through his secluded habits, as without a formal message sent in advance, to invade his wife's boudoir. Her heart gave a great bound, and looking up from the children's hornbook in glad surprise, she smiled gratefully on him.

Was this a first advance? She was determined that the visit should be a pleasant one, and to that end proceeded forthwith to trot out the prodigies. He had no idea, she prattled, how vast were their acquirements. They knew ever so many wondrous things which would no doubt delight their parent. Straightway, like little clockwork parrots, well-wound up, the infants chirped forth their lore, while the marquis's face increased in length, the while with well-bred courtesy he made believe to listen. His dreamy eyes wandered over a map of varied stains on their dirty little pinafores. They diffused an aroma of bread and b.u.t.ter; their angel fingers shone with grease.

Their acquirements, he coldly agreed when they had run down, were remarkable for tender years, and the weather being fine they had better run out and play.

Gabrielle sighed. Mere politeness--such politeness as a wearied but courteous stranger might bestow--in which was no scintilla of affection. Unnatural parent! After all, the darlings were perchance a trifle juvenile to interest a man. Men, as a rule, can see no beauty in babes and sucklings; vote them revolting lumps of adipose tissue; but then, sweet Victor and Camille were not babies, for one was five and the other four--were enjoying that most fascinating period of existence when we are never clean, and are always falling down and crying.

The unappreciated angels having shrieked off down the long drawing-rooms, there to tumble, hurt themselves, and howl, Clovis sat down and explained the cause of his irruption.

"A letter! Good news or bad?" inquired Gabrielle, with a presentiment of evil.

"That depends how you read it," returned her husband, quietly. "As you are aware, I never inflicted my uncongenial presence overmuch on you; never sought to know why you were so ready to abdicate your brilliant position in Paris to suit a pa.s.sing whim of mine, but I was none the less obliged by your compliance. I now wish you to please yourself, and make arrangements for the future, such as may suit your views."

Gabrielle stared at the automaton. Good heavens! His uncongenial presence. Was he so blind as not to perceive how she hungered for it?

A burning reproach was on her lips, but found no voice; for somehow, seeing him sit there so straight and cold and self-complacent, her courage oozed away.

"Do what you choose." He continued with bland indifference. "I was never jealous of your entourage, because I liked you to enjoy the meed of admiration that is your due, and know that you are to be trusted even in so perilous a vortex as Versailles. For reasons with which I need not trouble you, I prefer myself to remain here for a while, with your permission; but seem to see that you are weary of playing the chatelaine. Is it so? Would you like to return to Paris. Please yourself. You will admit that I give you the completest liberty."

The heart of the poor wife sank low. For what crime was she condemned to love an icicle? If he would only find fault, or discover a grievance, or even wax wroth without a cause, and smite her! Each calm and measured sentence as he sat, with the finger-tips of one hand poised accurately on those of the other, was like the p.r.i.c.k of a steel stiletto. His gaze was fixed on a tree a long way off. He could not even trouble to look at her.

Sighing wearily, she murmured, "Completest liberty, no doubt. I and the children are to go away and leave you here alone?"

Clovis moved his gaze to another tree and cleared his throat. "Not unless you wish it," he said, "but something has happened that is a little embarra.s.sing."

"Any trouble? Am I not here to share it."

"Scarcely a trouble--an inconvenience only, which you may object to share," her husband answered, smiling. "Could you brook other inmates?"

"Other inmates! What can you mean?'

"As you know, though you have never seen them, I have two half-brothers. They are inseparable--quite pattern brothers--the one brilliantly clever, the other his admiring shadow. The Abbe Pharamond, the younger one, would be welcomed in any society on account of his sparkling talent; but he has preferred to s.h.i.+ne alone at Toulouse, rather than consent to be a unit in the system of stars at Paris. He has got into trouble, and writes to ask for an asylum for himself and Phebus."

"What trouble?"

"A too pungent epigram followed by a fatal duel, makes it convenient to seek eclipse. In six months the affair will have blown over. You would be sure to like the abbe, if you met him; while as for poor dear Phebus, the chevalier, as he is called in the south, he is fat and somnolent, and would not hurt a fly."

Gabrielle reflected, Why did a voice deep down within whisper words of warning? Here were the congenial persons for whose advent she had longed. What a relief to the _tete-a-tete_ would be the brilliant abbe, and fat Phebus who would not hurt a fly! Thanks to them, Lorge might become endurable. On the suggestion of a return to Paris, the difficulty had occurred to her as to the excuse to be made for her husband's lengthened absence. Clearly she must remain at Lorge, so long as he thought fit to do so. Perhaps the abbe disliked music and hated violoncellos? Together in the dead of night they would capture the marquis's treasure and send it floating down the Loire.

"My dear Clovis!" she exclaimed presently, with genuine pleasure; "you singular being! What objection could I have? On the contrary, I am charmed with the opportunity of making the acquaintance of your brothers."

CHAPTER V.

THE HALF-BROTHERS.

Never was there a greater bit of luck for the Lorge hermits than the epigram that was too pungent, and its consequences. With the arrival of the fugitives there was inaugurated a new _regime_. Cobwebs seemed to vanish at a stroke. The dismal old chateau stirred and rubbed its eyes, for, as by magic, the spirit of ennui who had his dwelling there was routed and put to flight.

The Abbe Pharamond was made of quicksilver. Such a ma.s.s of ubiquitous ever-moving energy would have awakened the seven sleepers. Everyone felt his influence; and no one had a word to say against him, except Toinon and Jean Boulot. Even the objections of these, as might be expected in low-born persons, were of the vaguest. The one found fault with his effeminate manners and mincing ways, the other vowed that he was so sweet as to be mawkish. Balanced one on either knee, the prodigies (with clean pinafores and polished visages) were taught to warble the amorous ditties of the south, an absurd performance which frequently brought over Madame de Vaux in the shanderydan, and caused her to explode with laughter. His presence acted like a magnet. There was always a stock of the neatest compliments on hand for Angelique; the most respectfully rapt attention for the baron's plat.i.tudes. He was constantly riding to Montbazon on his way to somewhere else, bent on organizing a picnic or a hunt, and even discovered and dragged from their retreats into the light a variety of country gentlemen who seldom left their burrows. "If the dear man were a layman!" grieved the baroness. "The very thing for Angelique." But since he was a churchman, she must do her best with the other.

"Pooh! Stuff and nonsense!" objected the baron. "They were of good family--could boast, indeed, of most superior blood--but were as poor as church mice, both."

Whereupon his spouse remarked from out her nightcap folds that she did dislike a mole. Was not the marquis a good-natured gentleman, if stupid, and was he not plainly devoted to his brothers--proud at least of one? It could be seen with half an eye that the abbe's influence was great, and would grow greater. Out of Gabrielle's wealth, after de Breze's death, he would, of course, provide for his brothers in a fitting and lavish manner.

Gabrielle fell at once, and without resistance, under the spell of the abbe. She had never known so charming and accomplished a person.

Faugh! the tawdry b.u.t.terflies of Versailles! The gaudy numskulls! Mere contemptible machines, that mopped and mowed to order. In Pharamond she beheld for the first time a man whose masterful nature somehow compelled obedience. Among other fascinating ways, he had a trick (aware of a trim and graceful figure) of tossing himself down in a picturesque att.i.tude at Gabrielle's feet, burningly eager for advice; and on considering the interview afterwards, she was pleasantly surprised to find how she had shone--how undoubtedly, yet unaccountably, sage had been her counsel. "He exerts a good influence over me," she murmured. "Like flowers under the sun's first rays I expand. Till he arrived, I knew not how dense had been our darkness.

Alas! if Clovis were a little like him how different had been my fate!"

Even Clovis was the better for the abbe's advent. His brother would walk straight into his sanctum and drag him from his books to join some party of pleasure; but, lest he should turn restive, would argue in his nimble fas.h.i.+on, as they rode along, upon abstruse points of philosophy. Though not fully believing in the tremendous powers claimed by the prophet, he declared himself open to conviction with regard to Mesmer; and Gabrielle was amazed to perceive how animated her husband could become in his efforts to convince the doubter. When hounded from the capital, Mesmer had travelled south before settling at Spa, and the abbe had seen him perform his marvels. Hunted out of Paris by the Academy of Medicine, persecution had produced the usual result--attacked, defended, abused, glorified, Fame shook all her bauble bells, and rescued his name from neglect. At Montpelier, his following was so great that he and his small staff could not supply the necessary treatment. There was no denying that under his magnetic pa.s.ses certain patients did recover. However much argument might meander, it always came back to that point. In what the mysterious healing fluid consisted, was the difficult question. Did an invisible current actually flow from the manipulator to the patient, or was it but the effect of ascendency of will--of the strong nature bearing down the weak?