Pride Part 110

"Will you have the goodness to say to M. de Senneterre, madame, that I forgive him the wrong he has, unconsciously, done me. Here, before you--you--his mother--I swear that--I will never see him again,--and you need have no fear of my breaking my word. So, madame, you can leave here rea.s.sured and content,--but--but I feel so strangely--M. de Maillefort--come to me--I beg--come--I--"

The poor girl could say no more. Her lips fluttered feebly, and she cast a despairing look at the hunchback, who sprang forward only just in time to receive her almost lifeless form in his arms. He placed her tenderly in an armchair, then, turning to Madame de Senneterre, with a terrible expression on his face, he cried:

"Ah, you shall weep tears of blood for your cruelty here, madame. Go, go, I tell you. Don't you see that she is dying!"

Herminie did, indeed, look as if death had claimed her for his own, with her marble white face, and her head hanging inertly down upon one shoulder. Her forehead, bathed in a cold sweat, was half covered with some soft ringlets of golden hair which had escaped from their confinement, and an occasional tear forced its way through her half closed eyelids, while ever and anon a convulsive shudder shook her entire body.

M. de Maillefort could not restrain his tears, and, turning to Madame de Senneterre, he exclaimed, bitterly, in a voice hoa.r.s.e with emotion: "You are gloating over your work, are you not?"

What was the hunchback's astonishment to see compa.s.sionate grief and keen remorse plainly imprinted upon this haughty woman's face, for, conquered at last by Herminie's n.o.ble and touching resignation, she, in turn, burst into tears, and said to the marquis, in beseeching tones:

"Have pity on me, M. de Maillefort I came here resolved to keep my promise, but--but my pride revolted in spite of me. I lost my head. Now, I repent, oh, how bitterly! I am ashamed, I am horrified at my heartless conduct."

And, running to Herminie, the d.u.c.h.ess tenderly lifted her head and kissed her upon the forehead; then, twining her arms around her to support her, said, in a voice faltering with emotion:

"Poor child! Will she ever forgive me? M. de Maillefort, ring for a.s.sistance, call some one, her pallor terrifies me."

Just then hurried steps were heard in the hall. The door flew open, and Gerald rushed in like one distracted, his eyes wild, his manner threatening, for, from the garden in which he had concealed himself without the knowledge of either Herminie or M. de Maillefort, he had heard his mother's cruel words.

"Gerald!" cried the astonished marquis.

"I was there," the young man exclaimed, pointing to the window. "I heard all, and--"

But the young duke did not complete the sentence, so amazed was he to see his mother supporting Herminie's head upon her bosom.

"My son," exclaimed Madame de Senneterre, "I am truly horrified at what I have done. I consent to everything. She is an angel. May Heaven forgive me!"

"Oh, mother, mother," murmured Gerald, in accents of ineffable grat.i.tude, as he fell upon his knees beside Herminie, and covered her cold hands with tears and kisses.

"You have done wisely," the marquis said, in low tones, to Madame de Senneterre. "It is adoration that your son will feel for you now."

That same instant, seeing Herminie make a slight movement, Gerald exclaimed, joyfully:

"She is recovering consciousness!"

Then, in a thrilling voice, he cried:

"Herminie, it is I. It is Gerald!"

On hearing M. de Senneterre's voice, Herminie gave a slight start, then slowly opened her eyes, which seemed at first fixed and troubled, like the eyes of one awaking from a dream.

Then the sort of mist which seemed to obscure her mental faculties faded away, and the girl slowly raised her head, which had been reposing on Madame de Senneterre's bosom, and looked around her.

To her intense astonishment, she saw that Gerald's mother was supporting her in her arms and watching her with the tenderest solicitude.

Believing she was still in a dream, Herminie hastily raised herself, and pa.s.sed her burning hands over her eyes, after which her gaze, as it became more and more a.s.sured, was directed, first upon M. de Maillefort, who was gazing at her with ineffable delight, and then upon Gerald, who was still kneeling before her.

"Gerald!" she cried, rapturously.

Then, with an expression of mingled hope and fear, she hastily glanced around at Madame de Senneterre, as if to satisfy herself that it was indeed from Gerald's mother that she was receiving these marks of touching interest.

Gerald, noticing the girl's movement, hastily exclaimed:

"Herminie, my mother consents to everything."

"Yes, yes, mademoiselle," exclaimed Madame de Senneterre, effusively. "I consent to everything. There are many wrongs for which I must ask forgiveness,--but my love and tenderness will enable me to gain it at last."

"Can this be true, madame?" cried Herminie, clasping her hands. "Oh, G.o.d, can it be possible! You really consent? All this is not a dream?"

"No, Herminie, it is not a dream," exclaimed Gerald, rapturously. "We belong to each other now! You shall soon be my wife."

"No, my n.o.ble child, it is not a dream," said M. de Maillefort, "It is a fitting reward for a life of toil and virtue."

"No, mademoiselle, it is not a dream," said Madame de Senneterre, "for it is you," she added, casting a meaning glance at the marquis, "you, Mlle. Herminie, who n.o.bly support yourself by your own exertions, that I joyfully accept as my daughter-in-law in M. de Maillefort's presence, for I am satisfied that my son could not make a choice more worthy of him, of me, and of his family."

Half an hour afterwards Madame de Senneterre and her son took an affectionate leave of Herminie, who, in company with M. de Maillefort, forthwith repaired to the house of Mlle. de Beaumesnil to tell her the good news, and sustain the courage of the richest heiress in France, for a final and formidable ordeal was in store for her, or, rather, for Olivier.

CHAPTER XXV.

A SUSPICIOUS CIRc.u.mSTANCE.

While M. de Senneterre was taking his mother home, Herminie and M. de Maillefort were bowling swiftly along in the marquis's carriage on their way to Mlle. de Beaumesnil.

The delight of the marquis and his youthful protegee, whose happiness was now a.s.sured, can be imagined.

The marquis knew Madame de Senneterre well enough to feel sure that she was incapable of retracting the solemn consent she had given to the marriage of Gerald and Herminie.

Nevertheless, M. de Maillefort resolved to call on Madame de Senneterre the following morning, and a.s.sure her that he had not changed his intention of adopting Herminie, who was dearer to him than ever, if that were possible, since he had witnessed her n.o.ble and touching behaviour during her interview with the haughty d.u.c.h.esse de Senneterre.

M. de Maillefort's only fear now was that the proud and sensitive girl might refuse to accept the advantages he was so anxious to confer upon her; but almost sure that he would succeed in overcoming her scruples eventually, he resolved to maintain an absolute silence concerning his intentions for the present.

M. de Maillefort and his companion had been driving along for several minutes, when a block of vehicles at the corner of the Rue de Courcelles obliged their driver to check his horses for an instant.

There was a locksmith's shop on the corner of this street, and the hunchback, who had put his head out of the carriage window to ascertain the cause of the sudden stop, uttered an exclamation of surprise, and, hastily drawing in his head, muttered:

"What can that man be doing there?"

As was natural, Herminie's eyes quickly followed those of the hunchback, and she could not repress a movement of disgust and aversion which M. de Maillefort failed to notice, however, for almost at the same instant he lowered the curtain of the window nearest him.

By drawing this small silken curtain a little aside, the marquis could see without being seen, and through the tiny opening he seemed to be watching something or somebody with considerable uneasiness, while Herminie, not daring to question him, gazed at him wonderingly.

The marquis had caught sight of M. de Ravil in the locksmith's shop, and he could still see him talking with the locksmith,--a man with a kind, honest face. He was showing him a key, and evidently giving him some instructions in regard to it, for, taking the key, the locksmith placed it in his vice just as M. de Maillefort's carriage again started on its way towards the Faubourg St. Germain, and M. de Macreuse's new friend, or, rather, his new accomplice, was lost to sight.