CHAPTER XVIII.
THE HEIR OF CHAMPDOCE.
As long as she was in Norbert's presence, anger and indignation gavethe Duchess de Champdoce strength; but as soon as she was left alone herenergy gave way, and with an outburst of tears she sank, half fainting,upon a couch. Her despair was augmented from the fact that she felt thathad it not been for her, George de Croisenois would never have met withhis death.
"Had I not made that fatal appointment," she sobbed, "he would be aliveand well now; my love has slain him as surely as if my hand had held thesteel that has pierced his heart!"
She at first thought of seeking refuge with her father, but abandonedthe idea almost immediately, for she felt that he would refuse toenter into her grievance, or would say, "You are a duchess; you have anenormous fortune. You must be happy; and if you are not, it must be yourown fault."
In terrible anguish the night passed away; and when her maids enteredthe room, they found her lying on the floor, dressed as she had been thenight before. No one knew what to do, and messengers were dispatched inall directions to summon medical advice.
Norbert's return was eagerly welcomed by the terrified domestics, and ageneral feeling of relief pervaded the establishment.
The Duke had grown very uneasy as to what might have happened during hisabsence. He questioned the servants as diplomatically as he could; andwhile he was thus engaged, the doctors who had been summoned arrived.
After seeing their patient, they did not for a moment conceal theiropinion that the case was a very serious one, and that it was possiblethat she might not survive this mysterious seizure. They impressed uponNorbert the necessity of the Duchess being kept perfectly quiet andnever left alone, and then departed, promising to call again in theafternoon.
Their injunctions were unnecessary, for Norbert had established himselfby his wife's bedside, resolved not to quit her until her health wasre-established or death had intervened to release her from suffering.Fever had claimed her for its own, and in her delusion she utteredmany incoherent ravings, the key to which Norbert alone held, and whichfilled his soul with dread and terror.
This was the second time that Norbert had been compelled to watch overa sick-bed, guarding within his heart a terrible secret. At Champdocehe had sat by his father's side, who could have revealed the terribleattempt against his life; and now it was his wife that he was keeping awatch on, lest her lips should utter the horrible secret of the death ofGeorge de Croisenois.
Compelled to remain by his wife's side, the thoughts of his past lifeforced themselves upon him, and he shuddered to think that, at the ageof twenty-five he had only to look back upon scenes of misery and crime,which cast a cloud of gloom and horror over the rest of his days. What aterrible future to come after so hideous a past!
He had another source of anxiety, and frequently rang the bell toinquire for Jean.
"Send him to me as soon as he comes," was his order.
At last Jean made his appearance, and his master led him into adeeply-recessed window.
"Well?" asked he.
"All is settled, my lord; be easy."
"And Caroline?"
"Has left. I gave her twenty thousand francs, and saw her into the trainmyself. She is going to the States, where she hopes to find a cousin whowill marry her; at least, that is her intention."
Norbert heaved a deep sigh of relief, for the thought of CarolineSchimmel had laid like a heavy burden upon his heart.
"And how about the other matter?" asked he.
The old man shook his head.
"What has been done?"
"I have got hold of a young fellow who believes that I wish to send himto Egypt, to purchase cotton. He will start to-morrow, and will post thetwo letters written by the Marquis de Croisenois, one at Marseilles, andthe other at Cairo."
"Do you not think that these letters will insure my perfect security?"
"I see that any indiscretion on our agent's part, or a mere act ofcarelessness, may ruin us."
"And yet it must be done."
After consulting together, the doctors had given some slight hope, butthe position of the patient was still very precarious. It was suggestedthat her intellect might be permanently affected; and during all theselong and anxious hours Norbert did not even dare to close his eyes, andit was with feelings of secret terror that he permitted the maids toperform their duties around their invalid mistress.
Upon the fourth day the fever took a favorable turn, and Marie slept,giving Norbert time to review his position.
How was it that Madame de Mussidan, who was a daily visitor, hadnot appeared at the house since that eventful night? He was so muchsurprised at this that he ventured to dispatch a short note, acquaintingher of the sudden illness of his wife.
In an hour he received a reply, merely containing these words:--
"Can you account for M. de Mussidan's sudden determination to spend thewinter in Italy? We leave this evening. Farewell.--D."
And so she, too, had abandoned him, taking with her all the hopes he hadin the world. Still, however, his infatuation held its sway over him,and he forced himself to believe that she felt this separation as keenlyas he did.
Some five days afterwards, when the Duchess de Champdoce had beenpronounced out of immediate danger, one of the doctors took himmysteriously aside. He said that he wanted to inform the Duke of astartling, but he hoped a welcome piece of intelligence--that theDuchess de Champdoce was in the way to present the Duke with an heir tohis title and estates.
It was the knowledge of this that had decided her not to leave herhusband's roof, and had steeled her heart against George's entreaties.She had hesitated, and had almost yielded to the feelings of her heart,when this thought troubled her.
Unfortunately for herself, she had not disclosed her condition to herhusband, and, at the news, all Norbert's former suspicions revived, andhis wrath rose once more to an extraordinary height. His lips grew pale,and his eyes blazed with fury.
"Thank you, doctor!" exclaimed he. "Of course, the news is very welcome.Good-by. I must go to the Duchess at once."
Instead of going to his wife, Norbert went and locked himself up in hisown private apartment. He had need to be alone, in order to look thisfresh complication more fully in the face, and the more he reflected,the more convinced was he that he had been the dupe of a guilty woman.He had begun by doubting, and he ended by being convinced that the childwas not his. Was he to accept this degraded position, and rear up as hisown the child of George de Croisenois? The child would grow up under hisown roof-tree, bear his name, and finally inherit his title and giganticfortune. "Never," muttered he. "No, never; for sooner than that, I willcrush the life out of it with my own hands!"
The more he thought how he should have to deceive the world by feigninglove and lavishing caresses upon this interloping child, the more hefelt that it would be impossible to perform his task. He had, however,much to do at present. The sudden and mysterious disappearance of Georgede Croisenois had created much stir and excitement in Paris, and theletter which had been posed by the agent dispatched by Jean, insteadof explaining matters, had only deepened the mystery and caused freshgrounds of surprise to arise in the minds of the friends of the Marquisand the police authorities. But the disappearance of the Marquis wasonly a nine days' wonder after all. Some other strange event excited theattention of the fickle public, and George de Croisenois' name was nolonger in every one's mouth.
Norbert breathed freely once more, for he felt his secret was safe.
Diana de Mussidan had now been absent for three months and had notvouchsafed him a single line. A river of blood flowed between him andhis wife. Among all his acquaintances he had not one friend on whom hecould rely, and his reckless life of debauchery and dissipation beganto weary him. His thoughts were always fixed upon this coming child. Howcould he ever bear to bring it up as if it were his own? He had thoughtover many plans, but always trusted to the first one he had conceived.This was to procure an infant, it
mattered not where or by what means,and substitute it for the new-born child of his wife. As time rolled on,he became more imbued with this idea, and at length he summoned Jeanto him, that faithful old man, who served his master so truly out ofaffection to the house of Champdoce.
For the first time Jean raised an objection to his master's proposal,declaring that such an act would bring shame and misery upon allconcerned in it; but when he found that Norbert was determined, andthat, if he refused, his master would employ some less scrupulousagent, he, with tears in his eyes and a tremor in his voice, promisedobedience.
About a month later, Jean came to his master and suggested that it wouldbe best the _accouchement_ of the Duchess should take place at a chateaubelonging to the Champdoce family near Montroire, and that this oncedone, he, Jean would arrange everything. The removal was effected almostat once, and the Duchess, who was a mere shadow of her former self,made no opposition. She and Norbert lived together as perfect strangers.Sometimes a week would elapse without their meeting; and if they hadoccasion to communicate, it was done by letter.
The estate to which Norbert had conducted the Duchess was admirablyadapted for his purpose. The unhappy woman was entirely alone in theworld, and had no one to whom she could apply for protection or advice.Her father, the Count de Puymandour, had died suddenly a month before,owing to chagrin caused by his defeat when a candidate for a seat in theChamber. The brief note from the despairing mother, in which followedthe words, "Have mercy! Give me back my child!" hardly describes theterrible events that occurred in the lonely Chateau to which Norbert hadconducted his innocent victim.
The child of the Duchess de Champdoce had been placed by Jean in theFoundling Hospital at Vendome, while the infant that was baptized withthe grandiloquent names of Anne Rene, Gontran de Duepair, Marquis deChampdoce, was the bastard child of a girl living near Montroire, whowas known in the neighborhood as "The Witch."