The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 50

Clary nodded and ten minutes later she sat with glowing cheeks and beating heart absorbed in the reading of this interesting novel. She sympathized with Edmond Dantes and Faria, she wept with Mercedes, she hated Villefort, lamented for Madame Danglars, was enthusiastic for Valentine, admired Maximilian and breathed much easier when Madame de Villefort, the inhuman poisoner, had ended her evil career. And over all these personages hovered in wonderful glory the modern knight without fear and blame, the chastising judge, the n.o.ble benefactor. Monte-Cristo seemed to the young girl like a G.o.d, and when darkness set in and Madame Caraman looked about for her _protegee_, Clary embraced her and said, sobbing:

"Oh, Mamma Caraman, how beautiful is the romance and how happy do I feel to have seen the count! Yes, so, just so, he ought to appear; oh, Alexandre Dumas is a great man!"

Madame Caraman smiled; she did not expect anything else. Both ladies conversed then more explicitly of the various persons in the romance, and afterward the companion withdrew, as already mentioned, to the veranda to work, and Clary remained, absorbed in a reverie, sitting in a little pavilion ornamented with flowers.

How long she had been meditating she was unable to tell, when all at once without the garden wall a curious noise was heard. Clary lifted her head and listened; the reading had excited her to the extent that at this moment a spectral appearance would have come not unexpectedly and yet she quite plainly noticed a sparkling pair of eyes, which inquiringly turned in all directions. Clary did not stir. A cloud, which up to that moment hid the moon, broke, and the girl recognized the Zouave, who sat upon the wall and then slipped down into the garden.

Coucou seemed to know that he was trespa.s.sing upon strange ground; he listened for a while, and as everything seemed quiet he selected the walk which led to the veranda.

At the veranda a lamp was burning, and close by stood a basket filled with various skeins and b.a.l.l.s of wool, while Madame Caraman sat in her chair snoring comfortably. The Jackal remained motionless at the foot of the veranda and looked up, and as nothing seemed to move, he soon resolved to climb the fence, which was closed by the stairs leading into the garden.

As soon as the Jackal saw Madame Caraman, he became rather agitated; he thought of his mother, and yet he was aware that this lady appeared far younger and more elegant than his mother, even were she alive. With his hands folded over his breast, he looked at the sleeping woman; he did not antic.i.p.ate that Clary, hid behind a tamarind-tree, watched all his movements and almost broke her head in considering what motive brought the Zouave to this spot.

Now Coucou approached the companion, but the noise woke Madame Caraman, and uttering a half-suppressed shriek she jumped up and looked drowsily at the intruder. She recognized only the form of a man, and instinctively grasping after the first object at hand, she took hold of the work-basket and threw it with all her might at the Zouave. The basket hit Coucou's head and clapped itself like a helmet over his face, while the wool skeins became entangled in his hair, tickling his nose and causing a violent cough and continual sneezing.

The lady now first recognized the brave Jackal, and considering the awkward situation he was placed in, she could not help bursting into a loud laugh. In vain Coucou tried to rid himself of the wool threads; he coughed and sneezed uninterruptedly, and the basket seemed to cling more tightly to his face. At length the French lady took pity on him and helped him to remove the basket, and then in a voice of merriment which she could not suppress she said:

"Well, Monsieur Jackal, you will perhaps tell me what induced you to come here?"

Coucou was ready to answer, but the wool threads prevented him, and while Madame Caraman again broke out laughing, and Clary, below in the garden, suffered from suffocation, because she felt obliged to suppress her laughter in order not to betray her presence, the Zouave breathlessly gasped:

"One--drop--of water--I suffocate!"

Madame Caraman was not cruel. She handed the Jackal a gla.s.sful of water, and as the cough would not stop, she took from the sideboard a bottle filled with cordial and offered it to the soldier with these words:

"There, drink a drop, you big scamp, and then explain your presence here."

The Zouave cast a grateful glance at the lady and took a long draught out of the bottle.

"Sapristi!" he then exclaimed, smacking his tongue, "that is an excellent drop!"

"Bah, never mind the drop now, but answer my question," rejoined the lady. "What are you looking for here?"

"I--intended--"

"Quick, and do not stutter so awfully. Is it lawful at night and in darkness to enter a strange abode and to frighten people?"

"Alas, I shall certainly never do it again," stammered poor Coucou, crestfallen. "I came here, because--"

"Dear me, I almost believe you have lost your power of speech,"

laughingly interrupted Madame Caraman.

"Not exactly, madame, but behold, there are moments in the life of a soldier--"

"In which he proves himself especially stupid," added Madame Caraman impatiently; "stick to your subject."

Coucou bowed, as if a compliment were paid him.

"Madame," he commenced again, "Providence permitted us to-day to meet each other--"

"Providence?" repeated the lady in great merriment; "Mr. Zouave, you seem to me to be getting a little crazy!"

"Oh, madame," said Coucou ardently, "it will not offend you, if I tell you that I find you exceedingly--and, speaking plainly, consider you quite lovely! Call me impertinent, madame: but believe my a.s.surance that I speak the real truth. I have seen ladies in all parts of the world, blondes and brunettes, black and white, but I never met one who understood how to win my heart till I this day met you!"

Madame Caraman was, indeed, Clary's governess, but she was, first of all, a wife, and Coucou's words were repugnant to her.

"Monsieur Zouave," she replied, "I am forty-two years old" (unwittingly she skipped a few), "and you may call yourself lucky that I do not mind a joke--"

"A joke? But I can take an oath--"

"Do not swear," interrupted the lady, in a menacing manner, "but let me speak. First, you ought to know that I have always been an honest wife, and only loved my husband, who is now in heaven. Secondly, I am employed by a greatly esteemed and amiable young girl, and as you have without the slightest pretext entered here, you have forfeited the respect which you owe the owner of this villa. Thus you know now what you ought to know, and mark it down for the future, Monsieur Zouave."

Coucou felt as if it were best for him to sink into the ground; red like a peony he began to stutter:

"Pardon me, I intended nothing wrong!"

The widow of the gendarme officer had compa.s.sion on his embarra.s.sment.

"Well, do not take it to heart too much," she said, kindly. "I do not bite anybody! You are, after all, a soldier, and if you do your duty, you cannot always touch everything with kid gloves. My dear departed husband often told me so, and therefore console yourself and listen to me. I am ready to pardon you, but only under one condition."

"Oh, under all conditions, even ever so difficult," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Coucou, lively. "Speak, please; what am I to do?"

"Not much, but to tell me, quite openly, why you have come to this place this evening?"

"Only to see you."

"Indeed! Well, I must confess I like you! So you have fallen in love with me, like a student at a boarding-school, and in order to satisfy your suddenly aroused desires you creep at night into other people's houses! Do you know how these fellows are generally styled?"

Coucou bent his head, and Madame Caraman earnestly continued:

"Would it not be more simple and also more becoming, if you were to come here to-morrow by daylight, and ask for admittance?"

"But that is just the thing," despairingly exclaimed Coucou, "for me there is no morning!"

"What does that all mean?"

"Well, what I say is, that for me there is no morning here!"

"Lord and Saviour, how am I to understand this nonsense?" said Madame Caraman, impatiently.

Coucou changed his tactics.

"Madame," said he with emphasis, "I will admit that my uncalled-for entrance here was certainly quite wrong, but you ought not to consider it in the light of an offence."

"I hope so," replied the companion respectfully, "and I am ready to look for any proofs thereof."

The Zouave again looked down quite abashed.

"It pa.s.sed previously through my head," he commenced, rather discouraged, "that you perhaps would show a little interest for me--"