I took her to the house where she used to lodge, and placed her underthe care of the kind concierge who was Theodore's aunt. Then I, too,went home, determined to get a good night's rest. The morning would bea busy one for me. There would be the special licence to get, the cureof St. Jacques to interview, the religious ceremony to arrange for,and the places to book on the stagecoach for Boulogne _en route_ forEngland--and fortune.
I was supremely happy and slept the sleep of the just. I was upbetimes and started on my round of business at eight o'clock the nextmorning. I was a little troubled about money, because when I had paidfor the licence and given to the cure the required fee for thereligious service and ceremony, I had only five francs left out of thehundred which the adored one had given me. However, I booked the seatson the stage-coach and determined to trust to luck. Once Estelle wasmy wife, all money care would be at an end, since no power on earthcould stand between me and the hundred thousand francs, the happy goalfor which I had so ably striven.
The marriage ceremony was fixed for eleven o'clock, and it was justupon ten when, at last, with a light heart and springy step, I ran upthe dingy staircase which led to the adored one's apartments. Iknocked at the door. It was opened by a young man, who with a smilecourteously bade me enter. I felt a little bewildered--and slightlyannoyed. My Estelle should not receive visits from young men at thishour. I pushed past the intruder in the passage and walked boldly intothe room beyond.
Estelle was sitting upon the sofa, her eyes bright, her mouth smiling,a dimple in each cheek. I approached her with outstretched arms, butshe paid no heed to me, and turned to the young man, who had followedme into the room.
"Adrien," she said, "this is kind M. Ratichon, who at risk of his lifeobtained for us all my papers of identification and also the valuablename and address of the English lawyers."
"Monsieur," added the young man as he extended his hand to me,"Estelle and I will remain eternally your debtors."
I struck at the hand which he had so impudently held out to me andturned to Estelle with my usual dignified calm, but with wrathexpressed in every line of my face.
"Estelle," I said, "what is the meaning of this?"
"Oh," she retorted with one of her provoking smiles, "you must notcall me Estelle, you know, or Adrien will smack your face. We areindeed grateful to you, my good M. Ratichon," she continued moreseriously, "and though I only promised you another hundred francs whenyour work for me was completed, my husband and I have decided to giveyou a thousand francs in view of the risks which you ran on ourbehalf."
"Your husband!" I stammered.
"I was married to M. Adrien Cazales a month ago," she said, "but wehad perforce to keep our marriage a secret, because Mr. Farewell oncevowed to me that unless I became his wife he would destroy all mypapers of identification, and then--even if I ever succeeded indiscovering who were the English lawyers who had charge of my father'smoney--I could never prove it to them that I and no one else wasentitled to it. But for you, dear M. Ratichon," added the cruel andshameless one, "I should indeed never have succeeded."
In the midst of this overwhelming cataclysm I am proud to say that Iretained mastery over my rage and contrived to say with perfect calm:
"But why have deceived me, Mademoiselle? Why have kept your marriage asecret from me? Was I not toiling and working and risking my life foryou?"
"And would you have worked quite so enthusiastically for me," queriedthe false one archly, "if I had told you everything?"
I groaned. Perhaps she was right. I don't know.
I took the thousand francs and never saw M. and Mme. Cazales again.
But I met Ma'ame Dupont by accident soon after. She has left Mr.Farewell's service.