CHAPTER IX.
THE HONOR OF THE NAME.
The account that the Duke of Champdoce had given of M. de Puymandour'smad longing for rank and title was true, and afforded a melancholyinstance of that peculiar kind of foolish vanity. He was a much happierman in his younger days, when he was known simply as Palouzet, which washis father's name, whose only wish for distinction was to be looked uponas an honest man. In those days he was much looked up to and respected,as a man who had possessed brains enough to amass a very large fortuneby strictly honest means. All this vanished, however, when the unhappyidea occurred to him to affix the title of Count to the name of anestate that he had recently purchased.
From that moment, all his tribulations in life may have been said tohave commenced. The nobility laughed at his assumption of hereditaryrank, while the middle classes frowned at his pretensions to be superiorto them, so that he passed the existence of a shuttlecock, continuallysuspended in the air, and struck at and dismissed from either side.
It may, therefore, be easily imagined how excessively anxious he was tobring about the marriage between his daughter Marie and the son of thatmighty nobleman, the Duke of Champdoce. He had offered to sacrificeone-third of his fortune for the honor of forming this connection, andwould have given up the whole of it, could he but have seen a child inwhose veins ran the united blood of Palouzet and the Champdoce seatedupon his knee. A marriage of this kind would have given him a realposition; for to have a Champdoce for a son-in-law would compel allscoffers to bridle their tongues.
The day after he had received a favorable reply from the Duke, M.de Puymandour thought that it was time to inform his daughter of hisintentions. He never thought that she would make any opposition, and, ofcourse, supposed that she would be as delighted as he was at the honorthat awaited her. He was seated in a magnificently furnished room whichhe called his library when he arrived at this conclusion, and ringingthe bell, ordered the servant to inquire of mademoiselle's maid if hermistress could grant him an interview. He gave this curious message,which did not appear to surprise the servant in the least, with anair of the utmost importance. The communication between the father anddaughter was always carried on upon this basis; and scoffers wickedlyasserted that M. de Puymandour had modelled it upon a book of etiquette,for the guidance of her household, written by a venerable arch-duchess.
Shortly after the man had departed on his errand, a little tap came tothe door.
"Come in," exclaimed M. de Puymandour.
And Mademoiselle Marie ran in and gave her father a kiss upon eachcheek. He frowned slightly, and extricated himself from her embrace.
"I thought it better to come to you, my dear father," said she, "than togive you the trouble of coming all the way to me."
"You always forget that there are certain forms and ceremonies necessaryfor a young lady of your position."
Marie gave a little gentle smile, for she was no stranger to herfather's absurd whims; but she never thwarted them, for she was veryfond of him. She was a very charming young lady, and in the descriptionthat the Duke had given of her to his son, he had not flattered herat all. Though she differed greatly in appearance from Mademoiselle deLaurebourg, Marie's beauty was perfect in a style of its own. She wastall and well proportioned, and had all that easy grace of movement,characteristic of women of Southern parentage. Her large soft dark eyesoffered a vivid contrast to her creamy complexion; her hair, in utterdisregard of the fashionable mode of dressing, was loosely knotted atthe back of her head. Her nature was soft and affectionate, capable ofthe deepest devotion, while she had the most equable temper that can beimagined.
"Come, my dear papa," said she; "do not scold me any more. You knowthat the Marchioness of Arlanges has promised to teach me how to behavemyself according to all the rules of fashionable society next winter,and I declare to you that I will so practise them up in secret, that youwill be astonished when you behold them."
"How woman-like!" muttered her father. "She only scoffs at matters ofthe most vital importance."
He rose from his seat, and, placing his back to the fireplace, took upan imposing position, one hand buried in his waistcoat, and the otherready to gesticulate as occasion required.
"Oblige me with your deepest attention," commenced he. "You wereeighteen years of age last month, and I have an important piece ofintelligence to convey to you. I have had an offer of marriage for you."
Marie looked down, and endeavored to hide her confusion at thesetidings.
"Before coming to a conclusion upon a matter of such importance,"continued he, "it was, of course, necessary for me to go into thequestion most thoroughly. I spared no means of obtaining information,and I am quite certain that the proposed connection would be conduciveto your future happiness. The suitor for your hand is but little olderthan yourself; he is very handsome, very wealthy, and is a Marquis byhereditary right."
"Has he spoken to you then?" inquired Marie in tones of extremeagitation.
"He! Whom do you mean by he?" asked M. de Puymandour; and as hisdaughter did not reply, he repeated his question.
"Who? Why, George de Croisenois."
"Pray, what have you to do with Croisenois? Who is he, pray? Not thatdandy with a mustache, that I have seen hanging about you this winter?"
"Yes," faltered Marie; "that is he."
"And why should you presume that he had asked me for your hand? Did hetell you that he was going to do so?"
"Father, I declare----"
"What, the daughter of a Puymandour has listened to a declaration oflove unknown to her father? Ten thousand furies! Has he written to you?Where are those letters?"
"My dear father--"
"Silence; have you those letters? Let me see them. Come, no delay; Iwill have those bits of paper, if I turn the whole house upside down."
With a sigh Marie gave the much prized missives to her father; therewere four only, fastened together with a morsel of blue ribbon.
He took one out at random, and read it aloud, with a running fire ofoaths and invectives as a commentary upon its contents.
"MADEMOISELLE,--
"Though there is nothing upon earth that I dread so much as your anger,I dare, in spite of your commands to the contrary, to write to youonce again. I have learned that you are about to quit Paris for severalmonths. I am twenty-four years of age. I have neither father nor mother,and am entirely my own master. I belong to an ancient and honorablefamily. My fortune is a large one, and my love for you is of the mosthonorable and devoted kind. My uncle, M. de Saumeuse, knows your fatherwell; and will convey my proposals to him upon his return from Italy, inabout two or three weeks' time. Once more intreating you to forgive me,
"I remain,
"Yours respectfully,
"GEORGE DE CROISENOIS."
"Very pretty indeed," said M. de Puymandour, as he replaced the letterin its envelope. "This is sufficient, and I need not read the others;but pray, what answer did you give?"
"That I must refer him to you, my dear father."
"Indeed, on my word, you do me too much honor; and did you really thinkthat I would listen to such proposals? Perhaps you love him?"
She turned her lovely face towards her father, with the great tearsrolling down her cheeks for her sole reply.
This mute confession, for as such he regarded it, put the finishingtouch to M. de Puymandour's exasperation.
"You absolutely love him, and have the impudence to tell me so?"
Marie glanced at her father, and answered,--
"The Marquis de Croisenois is of good family."
"Pooh! you know nothing about it. Why, the first Croisenois was one ofRichelieu's minions, and Louis XIII. conferred the title for some shadypiece of business which he carried out for him. Has this fine Marquisany means of livelihood?"
"Certainly; about sixty thousand francs a year."
"Humbug! What did he mean by addressing you secretly? Only to compromiseyour name, and so to secure your fortune, and perhaps to br
eak off yourmarriage with another."
"But why suppose this?"
"I suppose nothing; I am merely going upon facts. What does a man ofhonor do when he falls in love?"
"My dear father--"
"He goes to his solicitor, acquaints him with his intentions, andexplains what his means are; the solicitor goes to the family solicitorof the young lady, and when these men of the law have found out that allis satisfactory, then love is permitted to make his appearance upon thescene. And now you may as well attend to me. Forget De Croisenoisas soon as you can, for I have chosen a husband for you, and, havingpledged my word of honor, I will abide by it. On Sunday the eligiblesuitor will be introduced to you, and on Monday we will visit theBishop, asking him to be good enough to perform the ceremony. On Tuesdayyou will show yourself in public with him, in order to announce thebetrothal. Wednesday the marriage contract will be read. Thursday agrand dinner-party. Friday an exhibition of the marriage presents;Saturday a day of rest; Sunday the publication of the banns, and at theend of the following week the marriage will take place."
Mademoiselle Marie listened to her father's determination with intensehorror.
"For pity's sake, my dear father, be serious," cried she.
M. de Puymandour paid no attention to her entreaty, but added, as anafterthought:
"Perhaps you would wish to know the name of the gentleman I haveselected as a husband for you. He is the Marquis Norbert, the son andheir of the Duke de Champdoce."
Marie turned deadly pale.
"But I do not know him; I have never seen him," faltered she.
"_I_ know him, and that is quite sufficient. I have often told you thatyou should be a duchess, and I mean to keep my word."
Marie's affection for George de Croisenois was much deeper than shehad told her father, much deeper even than she had dared to confess toherself, and she resented this disposal of her with more obstinacy thanany one knowing her gentle nature would have supposed her capable of;but M. de Puymandour was not the man to give up for an instant theobject which he had sworn to attain. He never gave his daughter aninstant's peace, he argued, insisted, and bullied until, after threedays' contest, Marie gave her assent with a flood of tears. The word hadscarcely passed her lips, before her father, without even thanking herfor her terrible sacrifice, exclaimed in a voice of triumph:
"I must take these tidings to Champdoce without a moment's delay."
He started at once, and as he passed through the doorway said:
"Good-by, my little duchess, good-by."
He was most desirous of seeing the Duke, for, on taking leave of him,the old nobleman had said, "You shall hear from me to-morrow;" but noletter had as yet reached him from Champdoce. This delay however, hadsuited M. de Puymandour's plans, for it had enabled him to wring theconsent from his daughter; but now that this had been done, he began tofeel very anxious, and to fear that there might be some unforeseen hitchin the affair.
When he reached Bevron, he saw Daumon talking earnestly with Francoise,the daughter of the Widow Rouleau. M. de Puymandour bowed graciously,and stopped to talk with the man, for he was just now seeking forpopularity, as he was a candidate, and the elections would shortly takeplace; and, besides, he never failed to talk to persons who exercisedany degree of influence, and he knew that Daumon was a most useful manin electioneering.
"Good morning, Counsellor," said he gayly. "What is the news to-day?"
Daumon bowed profoundly.
"Bad news, Count," answered he. "I hear that the Duke de Champdoce isseriously indisposed."
"The Duke ill--impossible!"
"This girl has just given me the information. Tell us all about it,Francoise."
"I heard to-day at the Chateau that the doctors had quite given himover."
"But what is the matter with him?"
"I did not hear."
M. de Puymandour stood perfectly aghast.
"It is always the way in this world," Daumon philosophically said. "Inthe midst of life we are in death!"
"Good morning, Counsellor," said De Puymandour; "I must try and find outsomething more about this."
Breathless, and with his mind filled with anxiety, he hurried on.
All the servants and laborers on the Champdoce estate were gatheredtogether in a group, talking eagerly to each other, and as soon as M. dePuymandour appeared, one of the servants, disengaging himself from hisfellows, came towards him. This was the Duke's old, trustworthy servant.
"Well?" exclaimed M. de Puymandour.
"Oh, sir," cried the old man, "this is too horrible; my poor master willcertainly die."
"But I do not know what is the matter with him; no one has told meanything, in fact."
"It was terribly sudden," answered the man. "It was about this timethe day before yesterday that the Duke was alone with M. Norbert in thedining-room. All at once we heard a great outcry. We ran in and sawmy poor master lying senseless on the ground, his face purple anddistorted."
"He must have had a fit of apoplexy."
"Not exactly; the doctor called it a rush of blood to the brain; atleast, I think that is what he said, and he added that the reason hedid not die on the spot was because in falling he had cut open his headagainst the oaken sideboard, and the wound bled profusely. We carriedhim up to his bed; he showed no signs of life, and now----"
"Well, how is he now?"
"No one dare give an opinion; my poor master is quite unconscious, andshould he recover--and I do not think for a moment that he will--thedoctor says his mind will have entirely gone."
"Horrible! Too horrible! And a man of such intellectual power, too. Ishall not ask you to let me look at him, for I could do no good, and thesight would upset me. But can I not see M. Norbert?"
"Pray, do not attempt to do so, sir."
"I was his father's intimate friend, and if the condolences of such aone could assuage the affliction under which--"
"Impossible!" answered the man in a quick, eager manner. "M. Norbert waswith his father at the time of his seizure, and has given strict ordersthat he is not to be disturbed on any account; but I must go to him atonce, for we are expecting the physicians who are coming from Poitiers."
"Very well, then I will go now, but to-night I will send up one of mypeople for news."
With these words, M. de Puymandour walked slowly away, absorbed inthought. The manner and expression of the servant had struck him asextremely strange. He noted the fact that Norbert was alone with hisfather at the time of the seizure, and, recalling to mind the oppositionhe had met with from his daughter, he began to imagine that the Duke hadfound his son rebellious, and that the apoplectic fit had been broughton by a sudden access of passion. Interest and ambition working togetherbrought him singularly near the truth.
"If the Duke dies, or becomes a maniac," thought he to himself, "the endas regards us will be the same for Norbert will break off the match to acertainty."
He felt that such a proceeding would cause him to be more jeered at andridiculed than ever, and that the only path of escape left open to himwas to marry his daughter to the Marquis de Croisenois, which was amost desirable alliance, in spite of all he had said against it. Avoice close to his ear aroused him from his reflections: it was that ofDaumon, who had come up unperceived.
"Was the girl's information correct, Count?" asked he. "How are the Dukeand M. Norbert, for of course you have seen them both?"
"M. Norbert is too much agitated by the sad event to see any one."
"Of course that was to be looked for," returned the wily Counsellor;"for the seizure was terribly sudden."
M. de Puymandour was too much occupied with his own thoughts to sparemuch pity for Norbert. He would have given a great deal to have knownwhat the young man was doing, and especially what he was thinking of atthe present moment.
The poor lad was standing by the bedside of his dying father, watchingeagerly for some indication, however slight, of returning life orreason. The hours of horror and self-reproach had ent
irely changedhis feelings and ideas; for it was only at the instant when he saw hisfather raise the poisoned wine to his lips that he saw his crime in allits hideous enormity. His soul rose up in rebellion against his crime,and the words, "Parricide! murderer!" seemed to ring in his ears like atrumpet call. When his father fell to the ground, his instinct made himshout for aid; but an instant afterwards terror took possession ofhim, and, rushing from the house, he sought the open country, as thoughstriving to escape from himself.
Jean, the old servant, who had noticed Norbert's strange look, wasseized with a terrible fear. Trusted as he was by both the Duke andhis son, he had many means of knowing all that was going on in thehousehold, and was no stranger to the differences that had arisenrecently between father and son. He knew how violent the tempers of bothwere, and he also knew that some woman was urging on Norbert to a courseof open rebellion. He had seen the cruel blow dealt by the Duke, and hadwondered greatly when he saw Norbert return to the Chateau. Why had hedone so? He had been in the courtyard when Norbert threw the glass fromthe window. Putting all these circumstances together, as soon as theinanimate body of the Duke had been laid upon a bed, Jean went into thedining-room, feeling sure that he should make some discovery which wouldconfirm his suspicions. The bottle from which the Duke had filled hisglass stood half emptied upon the table. With the greatest care, hepoured a few drops of its contents into the hollow of his hand, andtasted it with the utmost caution. The wine still retained its customarytaste and scent. Not trusting, however, to this, Jean, after makingsure that he was not observed, carried the bottle to his own room, andconcealed it. After taking this precaution, he ordered one of the otherservants to remain by the side of the Duke until the arrival of thedoctor, and then went in search of Norbert.
For two hours his efforts were fruitless. Giving up his search indespair, he turned once more to regain the Chateau, and, taking the paththrough the wood, suddenly perceived a human form stretched on the turfbeneath a tree. He moved cautiously towards the figure, and at oncerecognized Norbert. The faithful servant bent over his young master,and shook him by the arm to arouse him from his state of stupor. At thefirst touch, Norbert started to his feet with a shriek of terror. Withmingled fear and pity, Jean noticed the look that shone in the youngman's eyes, more like that of some hunted animal than a human being.
"Do not be alarmed, M. Norbert; it is only I," said he.
"And what do you want?"
"I came to look for you, and to entreat you to come back with me toChampdoce."
"Back to Champdoce?" repeated Norbert hoarsely; "no, never!"
"You must, Master Norbert; for your absence now would cause a terriblescandal. Your place at this critical time is by the bedside of yourfather."
"Never! never!" repeated the poor boy; but he yielded passively whenJean passed his arm through his, and led him away towards the Chateau.Supported thus by the old man's arm, he crossed the courtyard, andascended the staircase; but at his father's door he withdrew his hand,and struggled to get away.
"I will not; no, no, I cannot," gasped he.
"You must and you shall," returned the old man firmly. "Whatever yourfeelings may be, no stain shall rest on the family honor."
These words roused Norbert; he stepped across the room, and dropped onhis knees by the bed, placing his forehead upon his father's icy hand.He burst into a passion of tears and sobs, and the simple peasants, whosurrounded the couch of the insensible nobleman, breathed a sigh; for,from his pallid face and burning eyes, they believed he must be mad.They were not far out in this surmise; but the tears relieved hisover-wrought brain, and with this relief came the sense of intensesuffering. When the physician arrived, he was able to appear before himmerely as a deeply anxious son.
"There is no hope for the Duke, I regret to say," said the medical man,who felt that it was useless to keep Norbert in suspense. "There is afeeble chance of saving his life; but even should we succeed in doingso, his intellect will be irretrievably gone. This is a sad truth, but Ifeel it my duty to inform you of it. I will come again to-morrow."
As the doctor left the room, Norbert threw himself into a chair, andclasped his hands round his head, which throbbed until it seemed as ifit would burst. For more than half an hour he sat motionless, and thenstarted to his feet with a stifled cry; for he remembered the bottleinto which he had poured the poison, and which had been left on thetable. Had any one drunk from it? What had become of it? The agony ofhis mind gave him the necessary strength to descend to the dining-room;but the bottle was not on the table, nor was it in its customary placein the cupboard. The unhappy boy was looking for it everywhere, when thedoor silently opened, and Jean appeared on the threshold. The expressionupon his young master's face so startled the faithful old man that henearly dropped the lighted candle that he carried in his hand.
"Why are you here, Master Norbert?" asked he in a voice that trembledwith emotion.
"I was looking for----I wanted to find----," faltered Norbert.
Jean's suspicions at once became certainties; he walked up to his youngmaster, and whispered in his ear,--
"You are looking for the Duke's bottle of wine, are you not? It is quitesafe; for I have taken it to my room. To-morrow the contents shall beemptied away, and there will be no proof existing."
Jean spoke in such a low voice that Norbert guessed rather than heardhis words, and yet it seemed that the accusing whisper resounded likethunder through the Chateau, filling the old house from cellar toroof-tree.
"Be quiet," said he, laying his hand on the old man's lips, and gazingaround him with wild and affrighted glances.
A more complete confession could hardly have been made.
"Fear nothing, Master Norbert," answered Jean; "we are quite alone. Iknow that there are words which should never be even breathed; and if Ihave ventured to speak, it was because it was my duty to warn you, andto inculcate on you the necessity of caution."
Norbert was filled with horror when he saw that the old man believed himto be really guilty.
"Jean," cried he, "you are wrong in your suspicions. I tell you that myfather never tasted that wine. I snatched the glass from him beforehis lips had touched it. I flung it out into the courtyard, and, if yousearch, you will find its scattered fragments there still."
"I am not sitting in judgment upon you; what you tell me to believe I amready to accept."
"Ah!" cried Norbert passionately, "he does not believe me; he thinksthat I am guilty. I swear to you by all that I hold most sacred in thisworld, that I am innocent of this deed."
The attached servant shook his head with a melancholy air.
"Of course, of course," said he; "but it is for us two to save the honorof the house of Champdoce. Should it happen that any suspicions shouldbe aroused, put all the guilt upon my shoulders. I will defend myself ina manner which will only fix the crime more firmly upon me. I will notthrow away the bottle, but will retain it in my room, so that it may befound there, and its contents will be a damnatory evidence against me.What matters it how a poor man like me is sent out of the world? butwith you it is different. You--"
Norbert wrung his hands in abject despair; the sublime devotion of theold servant showed how firmly Jean believed in his criminality. He wasabout to assert his innocence further, when the loud sound of a closingdoor was heard above stairs.
"Hush!" said the old man; "some one approaches; we must not be seenwhispering together like two plotters, for their suspicions would becertainly awakened; and I fear that my face or your eyes will reveal thesecret. Quick, go upstairs, and endeavor, as soon as possible, to resumeyour calmness. I beg you not to compromise the honor of your name, whichis in deadly peril."
Without another word Norbert obeyed. His father was alone, and onlythe man to whom Jean had delegated the task of watcher remained by hisbedside. At the sight of his young master he rose.
"The prescription which the doctor ordered to be made up has arrived,"said he. "I have administered a dose to the Duke, and i
t seems to methat the result has been favorable."
Norbert drew up a heavy arm-chair to the foot of the bed, and took hisseat upon it. From this position he could see his father's face. Hisbrain was dazed, and it was with the utmost difficulty that he couldrecall the chain of events which had drawn him towards the abyss intowhich he had so nearly been precipitated.
The veil had been taken from his eyes, and he now saw with perfectclearness and seemed again to hear his father's voice as it roughlywarned him that the woman he loved was a mere plotter, who cared notfor him, but was scheming for his fortune and his name. Then he had beenfuriously indignant and looked upon the words as almost blasphemous, butnow he saw that his father was right. How was it that he had not beforeseen that Diana was flinging herself in his way, and that all heraffected openness and simplicity were merely the perfections of art, andthat step by step she had led him to the brink of the terrible precipicewhich yawned before him? The whole hideous part as played by Daumon wasno longer a sealed book to him. She whom he had looked on as a pure andinnocent girl was merely the accomplice of a scheming villain like theCounsellor, and after exciting his hatred and anger almost to madness,had placed the poison which was to take his father's life in his hands.A cold shiver ran through him as he realized this, and all his ardentlove for Diana de Laurebourg was changed into a feeling of loathing anddisgust.
At last the first pale rays of dawn broke through the casement, butbefore that Norbert, worn out with conflicting emotions, had fallen intoa restless and uneasy sleep, and when he awoke the doctor was standingby the bedside of the sick man. At the first sound made by Norbert ashe stirred in the chair, the doctor came towards him, saying, "We shallpreserve his life."
This prognostication was complete, for that very evening the Duke deChampdoce was able to move in his bed, the next day he uttered someincoherent words, and later on asked for food; but the will of iron hadpassed away, the features had lost their expression of determination,and the eye the glitter of pride and power. Never again would the Dukebe able to exert that keen, stern intellect which had enabled him toinfluence all those around him; and in this terrible state of imbecilitythe haughty nobleman would ever remain, fed and looked after like achild, with no thought beyond his desires and his warm fire, and withouta care for anything that was going on in the world around him.
After the enormity of his crime had been brought before him, thegreatness of the punishment that he must endure now came acrossNorbert's mind. It was only now that Jean had ventured to tell him of M.de Puymandour's visit; and such a change had taken place in Norbert thathe looked upon this visit as a special arrangement made by Providence.
"My father's will shall be carried out in every respect," said he tohimself, and without an hour's delay he wrote to M. de Puymandour,begging him to call, and hoping that the grief which had fallen upon himhad in no way altered the plan which had already been arranged.