Chapter LXI. Wounds within Wounds.
Mademoiselle de la Valliere--for it was indeed she--advanced a few stepstowards him. "Yes--Louise," she murmured.
But this interval, short as it had been, was quite sufficient for Raoulto recover himself. "You, mademoiselle?" he said; and then added, in anindefinable tone, "You here!"
"Yes, Raoul," the young girl replied, "I have been waiting for you."
"I beg your pardon. When I came into the room I was not aware--"
"I know--but I entreated Olivain not to tell you--" She hesitated; andas Raoul did not attempt to interrupt her, a moment's silence ensued,during which the sound of their throbbing hearts might have been heard,not in unison with each other, but the one beating as violently as theother. It was for Louise to speak, and she made an effort to do so.
"I wished to speak to you," she said. "It was absolutely necessary thatI should see you--myself--alone. I have not hesitated to adopt a stepwhich must remain secret; for no one, except yourself, could understandmy motive, Monsieur de Bragelonne."
"In fact, mademoiselle," Raoul stammered out, almost breathless fromemotion, "as far as I am concerned, and despite the good opinion youhave of me, I confess--"
"Will you do me the great kindness to sit down and listen to me?" saidLouise, interrupting him with her soft, sweet voice.
Bragelonne looked at her for a moment; then mournfully shaking his head,he sat, or rather fell down on a chair. "Speak," he said.
She cast a glance all round her. This look was a timid entreaty, andimplored secrecy far more effectually than her expressed words haddone a few minutes before. Raoul rouse, and went to the door, which heopened. "Olivain," he said, "I am not within for any one." And then,turning towards Louise, he added, "Is not that what you wished?"
Nothing could have produced a greater effect upon Louise than these fewwords, which seemed to signify, "You see that I still understandyou." She passed a handkerchief across her eyes, in order to remove arebellious tear which she could not restrain; and then, having collectedherself for a moment, she said, "Raoul, do not turn your kind, franklook away from me. You are not one of those men who despise a womanfor having given her heart to another, even though her affection mightrender him unhappy, or might wound his pride." Raoul did not reply.
"Alas!" continued La Valliere, "it is only too true, my cause is a badone, and I cannot tell in what way to begin. It will be better for me,I think, to relate to you, very simply, everything that has befallen me.As I shall speak but the pure and simple truth, I shall always find mypath clear before me in spite of the obscurity and obstacles I have tobrave in order to solace my heart, which is full to overflowing, andwishes to pour itself out at your feet."
Raoul continued to preserve the same unbroken silence. La Vallierelooked at him with an air that seemed to say, "Encourage me; for pity'ssake, but a single word!" But Raoul did not open his lips; and the younggirl was obliged to continue:
"Just now," she said, "M. de Saint-Aignan came to me by the king'sdirections." She cast down her eyes as she said this; while Raoul, onhis side, turned his away, in order to avoid looking at her. "M. deSaint-Aignan came to me from the king," she repeated, "and told methat you knew all;" and she attempted to look Raoul in the face, afterinflicting this further wound upon him, in addition to the many othershe had already received; but it was impossible to meet Raoul's eyes.
"He told me you were incensed with me--and justly so, I admit."
This time Raoul looked at the young girl, and a smile full of disdainpassed across his lips.
"Oh!" she continued, "I entreat you, do not say that you have had anyother feeling against me than that of anger merely. Raoul, wait untilI have told you all--wait until I have said to you all that I had tosay--all that I came to say."
Raoul, by the strength of his iron will, forced his features to assume acalmer expression, and the disdainful smile upon his lip passed away.
"In the first place," said La Valliere, "in the first place, with myhands raised in entreaty towards you, with my forehead bowed to theground before you, I entreat you, as the most generous, as the noblestof men, to pardon, to forgive me. If I have left you in ignoranceof what was passing in my own bosom, never, at least, would I haveconsented to deceive you. Oh! I entreat you, Raoul--I implore you on myknees--answer me one word, even though you wrong me in doing so. Better,far better, an injurious word from your lips, than suspicion resting inyour heart."
"I admire your subtlety of expression, mademoiselle," said Raoul, makingan effort to remain calm. "To leave another in ignorance that you aredeceiving him, is loyal; but to deceive him--it seems that would be verywrong, and that you would not do it."
"Monsieur, for a long time I thought that I loved you better thananything else; and so long as I believed in my affection for you, I toldyou that loved you. I could have sworn it on the altar; but a day camewhen I was undeceived."
"Well, on that day, mademoiselle, knowing that I still continued to loveyou, true loyalty of conduct should have forced you to inform me you hadceased to love me."
"But on that day, Raoul--on that day, when I read in the depths of myown heart, when I confessed to myself that you no longer filled my mindentirely, when I saw another future before me than that of being yourfriend, your life-long companion, your wife--on that day, Raoul, youwere not, alas! any more beside me."
"But you knew where I was, mademoiselle; you could have written to me."
"Raoul, I did not dare to do so. Raoul, I have been weak and cowardly.I knew you so thoroughly--I knew how devotedly you loved me, that Itrembled at the bare idea of the grief I was about to cause you; andthat is so true, Raoul, that this very moment I am now speaking to you,bending thus before you, my heart crushed in my bosom, my voice full ofsighs, my eyes full of tears, it is so perfectly true, that I have noother defense than my frankness, I have no other sorrow greater thanthat which I read in your eyes."
Raoul attempted to smile.
"No!" said the young girl, with a profound conviction, "no, no; you willnot do me so foul a wrong as to disguise your feelings before me now!You loved me; you were sure of your affection for me; you did notdeceive yourself; you do not lie to your own heart--whilst I--I--" Andpale as death, her arms thrown despairingly above her head, she fellupon her knees.
"Whilst you," said Raoul, "you told me you loved me, and yet you lovedanother."
"Alas, yes!" cried the poor girl; "alas, yes! I do love another; andthat other--oh! for Heaven's sake let me say it, Raoul, for it is myonly excuse--that other I love better than my own life, better than myown soul even. Forgive my fault, or punish my treason, Raoul. I camehere in no way to defend myself, but merely to say to you: 'You knowwhat it is to love!'--in such a case am I! I love to that degree, thatI would give my life, my very soul, to the man I love. If he should evercease to love me, I shall die of grief and despair, unless Heaven cometo my assistance, unless Heaven does show pity upon me. Raoul, I camehere to submit myself to your will, whatever it might be--to die, if itwere your wish I should die. Kill me, then, Raoul! if in your heart youbelieve I deserve death."
"Take care, mademoiselle," said Raoul: "the woman who invites death isone who has nothing but her heart's blood to offer to her deceived andbetrayed lover."
"You are right," she said.
Raoul uttered a deep sigh, as he exclaimed, "And you love without beingable to forget?"
"I love without a wish to forget; without a wish ever to love any oneelse," replied La Valliere.
"Very well," said Raoul. "You have said to me, in fact, all you had tosay; all I could possibly wish to know. And now, mademoiselle, it is Iwho ask your forgiveness, for it is I who have almost been an obstaclein your life; I, too, who have been wrong, for, in deceiving myself, Ihelped to deceive you."
"Oh!" said La Valliere, "I do not ask you so much as that, Raoul."
"I only am to blame, mademoiselle," continued Raoul, "better informedthan yourself of the difficulties of this life, I should
haveenlightened you. I ought not to have relied upon uncertainty; I ought tohave extracted an answer from your heart, whilst I hardly even sought anacknowledgement from your lips. Once more, mademoiselle, it is I who askyour forgiveness."
"Impossible, impossible!" she cried, "you are mocking me."
"How, impossible?"
"Yes, it is impossible to be so good, and kind, ah! perfect to such adegree as that."
"Take care!" said Raoul, with a bitter smile, "for presently you may sayperhaps I did not love you."
"Oh! you love me like an affectionate brother; let me hope that, Raoul."
"As a brother! undeceive yourself, Louise. I love you as a lover--as ahusband, with the deepest, the truest, the fondest affection."
"Raoul, Raoul!"
"As a brother! Oh, Louise! I love you so deeply, that I would haveshed my blood for you, drop by drop; I would, oh! how willingly, havesuffered myself to be torn to pieces for your sake, have sacrificed myvery future for you. I love you so deeply, Louise, that my heart feelsdead and crushed within me,--my faith in human nature all is gone,--myeyes have lost their light; I loved you so deeply, that I now no longersee, think of, care for, anything, either in this world or the next."
"Raoul--dear Raoul! spare me, I implore you!" cried La Valliere. "Oh! ifI had but known--"
"It is too late, Louise; you love, you are happy in your affection;I read your happiness through your tears--behind the tears which theloyalty of your nature makes you shed; I feel the sighs your affectionbreathes forth. Louise, Louise, you have made me the most abjectlywretched man living; leave me, I entreat you. Adieu! adieu!"
"Forgive me! oh, forgive me, Raoul, for what I have done."
"Have I not done much, much more? _Have I not told you that I love youstill?_" She buried her face in her hands.
"And to tell you that--do you hear me, Louise?--to tell you that, atsuch a moment as this, to tell you that, as I have told you, is topronounce my own sentence of death. Adieu!" La Valliere held out herhands to him in vain.
"We ought not to see each other again in this world," he said, and asshe was on the point of crying out in bitter agony at this remark, heplaced his hand on her mouth to stifle the exclamation. She pressed herlips upon it, and fell fainting to the ground. "Olivain," said Raoul,"take this young lady and bear her to the carriage which is waiting forher at the door." As Olivain lifted her up, Raoul made a movement as ifto dart towards La Valliere, in order to give her a first and last kiss,but, stopping abruptly, he said, "No! she is not mine. I am no thief--asis the king of France." And he returned to his room, whilst the lackeycarried La Valliere, still fainting, to the carriage.