taking no note of the humiliating scrutiny of whichhe was the subject. Meanwhile Marston, pale and agitated, made out hiscommittal, and having sworn in several of his laborers and servants asspecial constables, dispatched the prisoner in their charge to thecounty gaol, where, under lock and key, we leave him in safe custody forthe present.
After this event Marston became excited and restless. He scarcely ate orslept, and his health seemed now as much scattered as his spirits hadbeen before. One day he glided into the room in which, as we have said,it was Mrs. Marston's habit frequently to sit alone. His wife was there,and, as he entered, she uttered an exclamation of doubtful joy andsurprise. He sate down near her in silence, and for some time lookedgloomily on the ground. She did not care to question him, and anxiouslywaited until he should open the conversation. At length he raised hiseyes, and, looking full at her, asked abruptly--"Well, what aboutmademoiselle?"
Mrs. Marston was embarrassed, and hesitated.
"I told you what I wished with respect to that young lady some time ago,and commissioned you to acquaint her with my pleasure; and yet I find herstill here, and apparently as much established as ever."
Again Mrs. Marston hesitated. She scarcely knew how to confess to himthat she had not conveyed his message.
"Don't suppose, Gertrude, that I wish to find fault. I merely wanted toknow whether you had told Mademoiselle de Barras that we were agreed asto the necessity or expediency, or what you please, of dispensinghenceforward with her services, I perceive by your manner that you havenot done so. I have no doubt your motive was a kind one, but my decisionremains unaltered; and I now assure you again that I wish you to speak toher; I wish you explicitly to let her know my wishes and yours."
"Not mine, Richard," she answered faintly.
"Well, mine, then," he replied, roughly; "we shan't quarrel about that."
"And when--how soon--do you wish me to speak to her on this, to both ofus, most painful subject?" asked she, with a sigh.
"Today--this hour--this minute, if you can; in short the sooner thebetter," he replied, rising. "I see no reason for holding it back anylonger. I am sorry my wishes were not complied with immediately. Pray,let there be no further hesitation or delay. I shall expect to learn thisevening that all is arranged."
Marston having thus spoken, left her abruptly, went down to his studywith a swift step, shut himself in, and throwing himself into a greatchair, gave a loose to his agitation, which was extreme.
Meanwhile Mrs. Marston had sent for Mademoiselle de Barras, anxious toget through her painful task as speedily as possible. The fair Frenchgirl quickly presented herself.
"Sit down, mademoiselle," said Mrs. Marston, taking her hand kindly, anddrawing her to the prie-dieu chair beside herself.
Mademoiselle de Barras sate down, and, as she did so, read thecountenance of her patroness with one rapid glance of her flashing eyes.These eyes, however, when Mrs. Marston looked at her the next moment,were sunk softly and sadly upon the floor. There was a heightened color,however, in her cheek, and a quicker heaving of her bosom, whichindicated the excitement of an anticipated and painful disclosure. Theoutward contrast of the two women, whose hands were so lovingly lockedtogether, was almost as striking as the moral contrast of their hearts.The one, so chastened, sad, and gentle; the other, so capable of prideand passion; so darkly excitable, and yet so mysteriously beautiful. Theone, like a Niobe seen in the softest moonshine; the other, a Venus,lighted in the glare of distant conflagration.
"Mademoiselle, dear mademoiselle, I am so much grieved at what I have tosay, that I hardly know how to speak to you," said poor Mrs. Marston,pressing her hand; "but Mr. Marston has twice desired me to tell you,what you will hear with far less pain than it costs me to say it."
Mademoiselle de Barras stole another flashing glance at her companion,but did not speak.
"Mr. Marston still persists, mademoiselle, in desiring that weshall part."
"Est-il possible?" cried the Frenchwoman, with a genuine start.
"Indeed, mademoiselle, you may well be surprised," said Mrs. Marston,encountering her full and dilated gaze, which, however, dropped again ina moment to the ground. "You may, indeed, naturally be surprised andshocked at this, to me, most severe decision."
"When did he speak last of it?" said she, rapidly.
"But a few moments since," answered Mrs. Marston.
"Ha," said mademoiselle, and remained silent and motionless for morethan a minute.
"Madame," she cried at last, mournfully, "I suppose, then, I must go; butit tears my heart to leave you and dear Miss Rhoda. I would be very happyif, before departing, you would permit me, dear madame, once more toassure Mr. Marston of my innocence, and, in his presence, to call heavento witness how unjust are all his suspicions."
"Do so, mademoiselle, and I will add my earnest assurances again; though,heaven knows," she said, despondingly, "I anticipate little success; butit is well to leave no chance untried."
Marston was sitting, as we have said, in his library. His agitation hadgiven place to a listless gloom, and he leaned back in his chair, hishead supported by his hand, and undisturbed, except by the occasionalfall of the embers upon the hearth. There was a knock at the chamberdoor. His back was towards it, and, without turning or moving, he calledto the applicant to enter. The door opened--closed again: a light treadwas audible--a tall shadow darkened the wall: Marston looked round, andMademoiselle de Barras was standing before him. Without knowing how orwhy, he rose, and stood gazing upon her in silence.
"Mademoiselle de Barras!" he said, at last, in a tone of cold surprise.
"Yes, poor Mademoiselle de Barras," replied the sweet voice of theyoung Frenchwoman, while her lips hardly moved as the melancholy tonespassed them.
"Well, mademoiselle, what do you desire?" he asked, in the same coldaccents, and averting his eyes.
"Ah, monsieur, do you ask?--can you pretend to be ignorant? Have you notsent me a message, a cruel, cruel message?"
She spoke so low and gently, that a person at the other end of the roomcould hardly have heard her words.
"Yes, Mademoiselle de Barras, I did send you a message," he replied,doggedly. "A cruel one you will scarcely presume to call it, when youreflect upon your own conduct, and the circumstances which have provokedthe measures I have taken."
"What have I done, Monsieur?--what circumstances do you mean?" asked she,plaintively.
"What have you done! A pretty question, truly. Ha, ha!" he repeated,bitterly, and then added, with suppressed vehemence, "ask your own heart,mademoiselle."
"I have asked, I do ask, and my heart answers--nothing," she replied,raising her fine melancholy eyes for a moment to his face.
"It lies, then," he retorted, with a fierce scoff.
"Monsieur, before heaven I swear, you wrong me foully," she said,earnestly, clasping her hands together.
"Did ever woman say she was accused rightly, mademoiselle?" retortedMarston, with a sneer.
"I don't know--I don't care. I only know that I am innocent," continuedshe, piteously. "I call heaven to witness you have wronged me."
"Wronged you!--why, after all, with what have I charged you?" said he,scoffingly; "but let that pass. I have formed my opinions, arrived at myconclusions. If I have not named them broadly, you at least seem tounderstand their nature thoroughly. I know the world. I am no novice inthe arts of women, mademoiselle. Reserve your vows and attestations forschoolboys and simpletons; they are sadly thrown away upon me."
Marston paced to and fro, with his hands thrust into his pockets, as hethus spoke.
"Then you don't, or rather you will not believe what I tell you?" saidshe, imploringly. "No," he answered, drily and slowly, as he passed her."I don't, and I won't (as you say) believe one word of it; so, pray spareyourself further trouble about the matter."
She raised her head, and darted after him a glance that seemed absolutelyto blaze, and at the same time smote her little hand fast clenched uponher breast. The words, however, that trembled
on her pale lips were notuttered; her eyes were again cast down, and her fingers played with thelittle locket that hung round her neck.
"I must make, before I go," she said, with a deep sigh and a melancholyvoice, "one confidence--one last confidence: judge me by it. You cannotchoose but believe me now: it is a secret, and it must even here bewhispered, whispered, whispered!"
As she spoke, the color fled from her face, and her tones became sostrange and resolute, that Marston turned short upon his heel, andstopped before her. She looked in his face; he frowned, but lowered hiseyes. She drew nearer, laid her hand upon his shoulder, and whispered fora few moments in his ear. He raised his face suddenly: its features