CHAPTER XIX
So it was really Maurice d'Escorval whom the Marquis de Sairmeuse hadseen leaving Lacheneur's house.
Martial was not certain of it, but the very possibility made his heartswell with anger.
"What part am I playing here, then?" he exclaimed, indignantly.
He had been so completely blinded by passion that he would not have beenlikely to discover the real condition of affairs even if no pains hadbeen taken to deceive him.
Lacheneur's formal courtesy and politeness he regarded as sincere.He believed in the studied respect shown him by Jean; and the almostservile obsequiousness of Chanlouineau did not surprise him in theleast.
And since Marie-Anne welcomed him politely, he concluded that his suitwas progressing favorably.
Having himself forgotten, he supposed that everyone else had ceased toremember.
Moreover, he was of the opinion that he had acted with great generosity,and that he was entitled to the deep gratitude of the Lacheneur family;for M. Lacheneur had received the legacy bequeathed him by Mlle.Armande, and an indemnity, besides all the furniture he had chosen totake from the chateau, a total of at least sixty thousand francs.
"He must be hard to please, if he is not satisfied!" growled the duke,enraged at such prodigality, though it did not cost him a penny.
Martial had supposed himself the only visitor at the cottage on theReche; and when he discovered that such was not the case, he becamefurious.
"Am I, then, the dupe of a shameless girl?" he thought.
He was so incensed, that for more than a week he did not go toLacheneur's house.
His father concluded that his ill-humor and gloom was caused bysome misunderstanding with Marie-Anne; and he took advantage of thisopportunity to gain his son's consent to an alliance with Blanche deCourtornieu.
A victim to the most cruel doubts and fears, Martial, goaded to the lastextremity, exclaimed:
"Very well! I will marry Mademoiselle Blanche."
The duke did not allow such a good resolution to grow cold.
In less than forty-eight hours the engagement was made public; themarriage contract was drawn up, and it was announced that the weddingwould take place early in the spring.
A grand banquet was given at Sairmeuse in honor of the betrothal--abanquet all the more brilliant since there were other victories to becelebrated.
The Duc de Sairmeuse had just received, with his brevet oflieutenant-general, a commission placing him in command of the militarydepartment of Montaignac.
The Marquis de Courtornieu had also received an appointment, making himprovost-marshal of the same district.
Blanche had triumphed. After this public betrothal Martial was bound toher.
For a fortnight, indeed, he scarcely left her side. In her societythere was a charm whose sweetness almost made him forget his love forMarie-Anne.
But unfortunately the haughty heiress could not resist the temptationto make a slighting allusion to Marie-Anne, and to the lowliness ofthe marquis's former tastes. She found an opportunity to say that shefurnished Marie-Anne with work to aid her in earning a living.
Martial forced himself to smile; but the indignity which Marie-Anne hadreceived aroused his sympathy and indignation.
And the next day he went to Lacheneur's house.
In the warmth of the greeting that awaited him there, all his angervanished, all his suspicions evaporated. Marie-Anne's eyes beamed withjoy on seeing him again; he noticed it.
"Oh! I shall win her yet!" he thought.
All the household were really delighted at his return; the son of thecommander of the military forces at Montaignac, and the prospectiveson-in-law of the provost-marshal, Martial was a most valuableinstrument.
"Through him, we shall have an eye and an ear in the enemy's camp," saidLacheneur. "The Marquis de Sairmeuse will be our spy."
He was, for he soon resumed his daily visits to the cottage. It was nowDecember, and the roads were terrible; but neither rain, snow, nor mudcould keep Martial from the cottage.
He made his appearance generally as early as ten o'clock, seated himselfupon a stool in the shadow of a tall fireplace, and he and Marie-Annetalked by the hour.
She seemed greatly interested in matters at Montaignac, and he told herall that he knew in regard to affairs there.
Sometimes they were alone.
Lacheneur, Chanlouineau, and Jean were tramping about the country withtheir merchandise. Business was prospering so well that M. Lacheneur hadpurchased a horse in order to extend his journeys.
But Martial's conversation was generally interrupted by visitors. It wasreally surprising to see how many peasants came to the house to speak toM. Lacheneur. There was an interminable procession of them. And to eachof these peasants Marie-Anne had something to say in private. Then sheoffered each man refreshments--the house seemed almost like a commondrinking-saloon.
But what can daunt the courage of a lover? Martial endured all thiswithout a murmur. He laughed and jested with the comers and goers; heshook hands with them; sometimes he even drank with them.
He gave many other proofs of moral courage. He offered to assist M.Lacheneur in making up his accounts; and once--it happened about themiddle of February--seeing Chanlouineau worrying over the composition ofa letter, he actually offered to act as his amanuensis.
"The d----d letter is not for me, but for an uncle of mine who is aboutto marry off his daughter," said Chanlouineau.
Martial took a seat at the table, and, at Chanlouineau's dictation, butnot without many erasures, indited the following epistle:
"My dear friend--We are at last agreed, and the marriage has beendecided upon. We are now busy with preparations for the wedding, whichwill take place on ----. We invite you to give us the pleasure of yourcompany. We count upon you, and be assured that the more friends youbring with you the better we shall be pleased."
Had Martial seen the smile upon Chanlouineau's lips when he requestedhim to leave the date for the wedding a blank, he would certainly havesuspected that he had been caught in a snare. But he was in love.
"Ah! Marquis," remarked his father one day, "Chupin tells me you arealways at Lacheneur's. When will you recover from your _penchant_ forthat little girl?"
Martial did not reply. He felt that he was at that "little girl's"mercy. Each glance of hers made his heart throb wildly. By her sidehe was a willing captive. If she had asked him to make her his wife hewould not have said no.
But Marie-Anne had not this ambition. All her thoughts, all her wisheswere for her father's success.
Maurice and Marie-Anne had become M. Lacheneur's most intrepidauxiliaries. They were looking forward to such a magnificent reward.
Such feverish activity as Maurice displayed! All day long he hurriedfrom hamlet to hamlet, and in the evening, as soon as dinner was over,he made his escape from the drawing-room, sprang into his boat, andhastened to the Reche.
M. d'Escorval could not fail to remark the long and frequent absencesof his son. He watched him, and soon became absolutely certain thatLacheneur had, to use the baron's own expression, seduced him.
Greatly alarmed, he decided to go and see his former friend, and fearinganother repulse, he begged Abbe Midon to accompany him.
It was on the 4th of March, at about half-past four o'clock, that M.d'Escorval and the cure started for the Reche. They were so anxiousand troubled in mind that they scarcely exchanged a dozen words as theywended their way onward.
A strange sight met their eyes as they emerged from the grove on theReche.
Night was falling, but it was still light enough for them to distinguishobjects only a short distance from them.
Before Lacheneur's house stood a group of about a dozen persons, and M.Lacheneur was speaking and gesticulating excitedly.
What was he saying? Neither the baron nor the priest could distinguishhis words, but when he ceased, the most vociferous acclamations rent theair.
Suddenly a match glowed between his fi
ngers; he set fire to a bundle ofstraw and tossed it upon the thatched roof of his cottage, crying out ina terrible voice:
"The die is cast! This will prove to you that I shall not draw back!"
Five minutes later the house was in flames.
In the distance the baron and his companion saw the windows of thecitadel at Montaignac illuminated by a red glare, and upon everyhill-side glowed the light of other incendiary fires.
The country was responding to Lacheneur's signal.