CHAPTER XI.
'Probably one night only, but I won't make any promise,' George hadsaid to Madame Faragon when she asked him how long he intended tostay at Granpere. As he took one of the horses belonging to the innand drove himself, it seemed to be certain that he would not staylong. He started all alone, early in the morning, and reachedGranpere about twelve o'clock. His mind was full of painfulthoughts as he went, and as the little animal ran quickly down themountain road into the valley in which Granpere lies, he almostwished that his feet were not so fleet. What was he to say when hegot to Granpere, and to whom was he to say it?
When he reached the angular court along two sides of which the housewas built he did not at once enter the front door. None of thefamily were then about the place, and he could, therefore, go intothe stable and ask a question or two of the man who came to meethim. His father, the man told him, had gone up early to thewood-cutting, and would not probably return till the afternoon.Madame Voss was no doubt inside, as was also Marie Bromar. Then theman commenced an elaborate account of the betrothals. There neverhad been at Granpere any marriage that had been half so importantas would be this marriage; no lover coming thither had ever beenblessed with so beautiful and discreet a maiden, and no maiden ofGranpere had ever before had at her feet a lover at the same time sogood-looking, so wealthy, so sagacious, and so good-tempered. Theman declared that Adrian was the luckiest fellow in the world infinding such a wife, but his enthusiasm rose to the highest pitchwhen he spoke of Marie's luck in finding such a husband. There wasno end to the good with which she would be endowed--'linen,' saidthe man, holding up his hands in admiration, 'that will last out allher grandchildren at least!' George listened to it all, and smiled,and said a word or two--was it worth his while to come all the wayto Granpere to throw his thunderbolt at a girl who had beencaptivated by promises of a chest full of house linen!
George told the man that he would go up to the wood-cutting afterhis father; but before he was out of the court he changed his mindand slowly entered the house. Why should he go to his father? Whathad he to say to his father about the marriage that could not bebetter said down at the house? After all, he had but little groundof complaint against his father. It was Marie who had been untrueto him, and it was on Marie's head that his wrath must fall. Nodoubt his father would be angry with him when he should have thrownhis thunderbolt. It could not, as he thought, be hurled effectuallywithout his father's knowledge; but he need not tell his father theerrand on which he had come. So he changed his mind, and went intothe inn.
He entered the house almost dreading to see her whom he was seeking.In what way should he first express his wrath? How should he showher the wreck which by her inconstancy she had made of hishappiness? His first words must, if possible, be spoken to heralone; and yet alone he could hardly hope to find her. And hefeared her. Though he was so resolved to speak his mind, yet hefeared her. Though he intended to fill her with remorse, yet hedreaded the effect of her words upon himself. He knew how strongshe could be, and how steadfast. Though his passion told him everyhour, was telling him all day long, that she was as false as hell,yet there was something in him of judgment, something rather ofinstinct, which told him also that she was not bad, that she was afirm-hearted, high-spirited, great-minded girl, who would havereasons to give for the thing that she was doing.
He went through into the kitchen before he met any one, and there hefound Madame Voss with the cook and Peter. Immediate explanationshad, of course, to be made as to his unexpected arrival;--questionsasked, and suggestions offered--'Came he in peace, or came he inwar?' Had he come because he had heard of the betrothals? Headmitted that it was so. 'And you are glad of it?' asked MadameVoss. 'You will congratulate her with all your heart?'
'I will congratulate her certainly,' said George. Then the cook andPeter began with a copious flow of domestic eloquence to declare howgreat a marriage this was for the Lion d'Or--how pleasing to themaster, how creditable to the village, how satisfactory to thefriends, how joyous to the bridegroom, how triumphant to the bride!'No doubt she will have plenty to eat and drink, and fine clothes towear, and an excellent house over her head,' said George in hisbitterness.
'And she will be married to one of the most respectable young men inall Switzerland,' said Madame Voss in a tone of much anger. It wasalready quite clear to Madame Voss, to the cook, and to Peter, thatGeorge had not come over from Colmar simply to express his joyoussatisfaction at his cousin's good fortune.
He soon walked through into the little sitting-room, and hisstep-mother followed him. 'George,' she said, 'you will displeaseyour father very much if you say anything unkind about Marie.'
'I know very well,' said he, 'that my father cares more for Mariethan he does for me.'
'That is not so, George.'
'I do not blame him for it. She lives in the house with him, whileI live elsewhere. It was natural that she should be more to himthan I am, after he had sent me away. But he has no right tosuppose that I can have the same feeling that he has about thismarriage. I cannot think it the finest thing in the world for allof us that Marie Bromar should succeed in getting a rich young manfor her husband, who, as far as I can see, never had two ideas inhis head.'
'He is a most industrious young man, who thoroughly understands hisbusiness. I have heard people say that there is no one comes toGranpere who can buy better than he can.'
'Very likely not.'
'And at any rate, it is no disgrace to be well off.'
'It is a disgrace to think more about that than anything else. Butnever mind. It is no use talking about it, words won't mend it.'
'Why then have you come here now?'
'Because I want to see my father.' Then he remembered how false wasthis excuse; and remembered also how soon its falseness wouldappear. 'Besides, though I do not like this match, I wish to seeMarie once again before her marriage. I shall never see her afterit. That is the reason why I have come. I suppose you can give mea bed.'
'O, yes, there are beds enough.' After that there was some pause,and Madame Voss hardly knew how to treat her step-son. At last sheasked him whether he would have dinner, and an order was given toPeter to prepare something for the young master in the small room.And George asked after the children, and in this way the dreadedsubject was for some minutes laid on one side.
In the mean time, information of George's arrival had been takenupstairs to Marie. She had often wondered what sign he would makewhen he should hear of her engagement. Would he send her a word ofaffection, or such customary present as would be usual between twopersons so nearly connected? Would he come to her marriage? Andwhat would be his own feelings? She too remembered well, withabsolute accuracy, those warm, delicious, heavenly words of lovewhich had passed between them. She could feel now the pressure ofhis hand and the warmth of his kiss, when she swore to him that shewould be his for ever and ever. After that he had left her, and fora year had sent no token. Then he had come again, and had simplyasked her whether she were engaged to another man; had asked with acruel indication that he at least intended that the old childishwords should be forgotten. Now he was in the house again, and shewould have to hear his congratulations!
She thought for some quarter of an hour what she had better do, andthen she determined to go down to him at once. The sooner the firstmeeting was over the better. Were she to remain away from him tillthey should be brought together at the supper-table, there wouldalmost be a necessity for her to explain her conduct. She would godown to him and treat him exactly as she might have done, had therenever been any special love between them. She would do so asperfectly as her strength might enable her; and if she failed inaught, it would be better to fail before her aunt than in thepresence of her uncle. When she had resolved, she waited yetanother minute or two, and then she went down-stairs.
As she entered her aunt's room George Voss was sitting before thestove, while Madame Voss was in her accustomed chair,
and Peter waspreparing the table for his young master's dinner. George arosefrom his seat at once, and then came a look of pain across his face.Marie saw it at once, and almost loved him the more because hesuffered. 'I am so glad to see you, George,' she said. 'I am soglad that you have come.'
She had offered him her hand, and of course he had taken it. 'Yes,'he said, 'I thought it best just to run over. We shall be very busyat the hotel before long.'
'Does that mean to say that you are not to be here for my marriage?'This she said with her sweetest smile, making all the effort in herpower to give a gracious tone to her voice. It was better, sheknew, to plunge at the subject at once.
'No,' said he. 'I shall not be here then.'
'Ah,--your father will miss you so much! But if it cannot be, it isvery good of you to come now. There would have been something sadin going away from the old house without seeing you once more. Andthough Colmar and Basle are very near, it will not be the same as inthe dear old home;--will it, George?' There was a touch about hervoice as she called him by his name, that nearly killed him. Atthat moment his hatred was strongest against Adrian. Why had suchan upstart as that, a puny, miserable creature, come between him andthe only thing that he had ever seen in the guise of a woman thatcould touch his heart? He turned round with his back to the tableand his face to the stove, and said nothing. But he was able, whenhe no longer saw her, when her voice was not sounding in his ear, toswear that the thunderbolt should be hurled all the same. Hisjourney to Granpere should not be made for nothing. 'I must gonow,' she said presently. 'I shall see you at supper, shall I not,George, when Uncle will be with us? Uncle Michel will be sodelighted to find you. And you will tell us of the new doings atthe hotel. Good-bye for the present, George.' Then she was gonebefore he had spoken another word.
He eat his dinner, and smoked a cigar about the yard, and then saidthat he would go out and meet his father. He did go out, but didnot take the road by which he knew that his father was to be found.He strolled off to the ravine, and came back only when it was dark.The meeting between him and his father was kindly; but there was nospecial word spoken, and thus they all sat down to supper.