Chapter XVI
THE PARC OF THE CHATEAU DE LA CARQUE
There was no danger of the Dragon Volant's closing its doors on thatoccasion till three or four in the morning. There were quartered theremany servants of great people, whose masters would not leave the balltill the last moment, and who could not return to their corners in theDragon Volant till their last services had been rendered.
I knew, therefore, I should have ample time for my mysterious excursionwithout exciting curiosity by being shut out.
And now we pulled up under the canopy of boughs, before the sign of theDragon Volant, and the light that shone from its hall-door.
I dismissed my carriage, ran up the broad stair-case, mask in hand, withmy domino fluttering about me, and entered the large bedroom. The blackwainscoting and stately furniture, with the dark curtains of the verytall bed, made the night there more somber.
An oblique patch of moonlight was thrown upon the floor from the windowto which I hastened. I looked out upon the landscape slumbering in thosesilvery beams. There stood the outline of the Chateau de la Carque, itschimneys and many turrets with their extinguisher-shaped roofs blackagainst the soft grey sky. There, also, more in the foreground, aboutmidway between the window where I stood and the chateau, but a little tothe left, I traced the tufted masses of the grove which the lady in themask had appointed as the trysting-place, where I and the beautifulCountess were to meet that night.
I took "the bearings" of this gloomy bit of wood, whose foliageglimmered softly at top in the light of the moon.
You may guess with what a strange interest and swelling of the heart Igazed on the unknown scene of my coming adventure.
But time was flying, and the hour already near. I threw my robe upon asofa; I groped out a pair of hoots, which I substituted for those thinheelless shoes, in those days called "pumps," without which a gentlemancould not attend an evening party. I put on my hat and, lastly, I took apair of loaded pistols, which I had been advised were satisfactorycompanions in the then unsettled state of French society; swarms ofdisbanded soldiers, some of them alleged to be desperate characters,being everywhere to be met with. These preparations made, I confess Itook a looking-glass to the window to see how I looked in the moonlight;and being satisfied, I replaced it, and ran downstairs.
In the hall I called for my servant.
"St. Clair," said I; "I mean to take a little moonlight ramble, only tenminutes or so. You must not go to bed until I return. If the night isvery beautiful, I may possibly extend my ramble a little."
So down the steps I lounged, looking first over my right, and then overmy left shoulder, like a man uncertain which direction to take, and Isauntered up the road, gazing now at the moon, and now at the thin whiteclouds in the opposite direction, whistling, all the time, an air whichI had picked up at one of the theatres.
When I had got a couple of hundred yards away from the Dragon Volant, myminstrelsy totally ceased; and I turned about, and glanced sharply downthe road, that looked as white as hoar-frost under the moon, and saw thegable of the old inn, and a window, partly concealed by the foliage,with a dusky light shining from it.
No sound of footstep was stirring; no sign of human figure in sight. Iconsulted my watch, which the light was sufficiently strong to enable meto do. It now wanted but eight minutes of the appointed hour. A thickmantle of ivy at this point covered the wall and rose in a clusteringhead at top.
It afforded me facilities for scaling the wall, and a partial screen formy operations if any eye should chance to be looking that way. And nowit was done. I was in the park of the Chateau de la Carque, as nefariousa poacher as ever trespassed on the grounds of unsuspicious lord!
Before me rose the appointed grove, which looked as black as a clump ofgigantic hearse plumes. It seemed to tower higher and higher at everystep; and cast a broader and blacker shadow toward my feet. On Imarched, and was glad when I plunged into the shadow which concealed me.Now I was among the grand old lime and chestnut trees--my heart beatfast with expectation.
This grove opened, a little, near the middle; and, in the space thuscleared, there stood with a surrounding flight of steps a small Greektemple or shrine, with a statue in the center. It was built of whitemarble with fluted Corinthian columns, and the crevices were tufted withgrass; moss had shown itself on pedestal and cornice, and signs of longneglect and decay were apparent in its discolored and weather-wornmarble. A few feet in front of the steps a fountain, fed from the greatponds at the other side of the chateau, was making a constant tinkle andsplashing in a wide marble basin, and the jet of water glimmered like ashower of diamonds in the broken moonlight. The very neglect andhalf-ruinous state of all this made it only the prettier, as well assadder. I was too intently watching for the arrival of the lady, in thedirection of the chateau, to study these things; but the half-notedeffect of them was romantic, and suggested somehow the grotto and thefountain, and the apparition of Egeria.
As I watched a voice spoke to me, a little behind my left shoulder. Iturned, almost with a start, and the masque, in the costume ofMademoiselle de la Valliere, stood there.
"The Countess will be here presently," she said. The lady stood upon theopen space, and the moonlight fell unbroken upon her. Nothing could bemore becoming; her figure looked more graceful and elegant than ever."In the meantime I shall tell you some peculiarities of her situation.She is unhappy; miserable in an ill--assorted marriage, with a jealoustyrant who now would constrain her to sell her diamonds, which are--"
"Worth thirty thousand pounds sterling. I heard all that from a friend.Can I aid the Countess in her unequal struggle? Say but how the greaterthe danger or the sacrifice, the happier will it make me. _Can_ Iaid her?"
"If you despise a danger--which, yet, is not a danger; if you despise,as she does, the tyrannical canons of the world; and if you arechivalrous enough to devote yourself to a lady's cause, with no rewardbut her poor gratitude; if you can do these things you can aid her, andearn a foremost place, not in her gratitude only, but in herfriendship."
At those words the lady in the mask turned away and seemed to weep.
I vowed myself the willing slave of the Countess. "But," I added, "youtold me she would soon be here."
"That is, if nothing unforeseen should happen; but with the eye of theCount de St. Alyre in the house, and open, it is seldom safe to stir."
"Does she wish to see me?" I asked, with a tender hesitation.
"First, say have you really thought of her, more than once, since theadventure of the Belle Etoile?"
"She never leaves my thoughts; day and night her beautiful eyes hauntme; her sweet voice is always in my ear."
"Mine is said to resemble hers," said the mask.
"So it does," I answered. "But it is only a resemblance."
"Oh! then mine is better?"
"Pardon me, Mademoiselle, I did not say that. Yours is a sweet voice,but I fancy a little higher."
"A little shriller, you would say," answered the De la Valliere, Ifancied a good deal vexed.
"No, not shriller: your voice is not shrill, it is beautifully sweet;but not so pathetically sweet as hers."
"That is prejudice, Monsieur; it is not true."
I bowed; I could not contradict a lady.
"I see, Monsieur, you laugh at me; you think me vain, because I claim insome points to be equal to the Countess de St. Alyre. I challenge you tosay, my hand, at least, is less beautiful than hers." As she thus spokeshe drew her glove off, and extended her hand, back upward, in themoonlight.
The lady seemed really nettled. It was undignified and irritating; forin this uninteresting competition the precious moments were flying, andmy interview leading apparently to nothing.
"You will admit, then, that my hand is as beautiful as hers?"
"I cannot admit it. Mademoiselle," said I, with the honesty ofirritation. "I will not enter into comparisons, but the Countess de St.Alyre is, in all respects, the most beautiful lady I ever beheld."
The masque laughed coldly, and then, more and more softly, said, with asigh, "I will prove all I say." And as she spoke she removed the mask:and the Countess de St. Alyre, smiling, confused, bashful, morebeautiful than ever, stood before me!
"Good Heavens!" I exclaimed. "How monstrously stupid I have been. And itwas to Madame la Comtesse that I spoke for so long in the _salon!_"I gazed on her in silence. And with a low sweet laugh of good nature sheextended her hand. I took it and carried it to my lips.
"No, you must not do that," she said quietly, "we are not old enoughfriends yet. I find, although you were mistaken, that you do rememberthe Countess of the Belle Etoile, and that you are a champion true andfearless. Had you yielded to the claims just now pressed upon you by therivalry of Mademoiselle de la Valiere, in her mask, the Countess de St.Alyre should never have trusted or seen you more. I now am sure that youare true, as well as brave. You now know that I have not forgotten you;and, also, that if you would risk your life for me, I, too, would bravesome danger, rather than lose my friend forever. I have but a fewmoments more. Will you come here again tomorrow night, at a quarter pasteleven? I will be here at that moment; you must exercise the mostscrupulous care to prevent suspicion that you have come here, Monsieur._You owe that to me_."
She spoke these last words with the most solemn entreaty.
I vowed again and again that I would die rather than permit the leastrashness to endanger the secret which made all the interest and value ofmy life.
She was looking, I thought, more and more beautiful every moment. Myenthusiasm expanded in proportion.
"You must come tomorrow night by a different route," she said; "and ifyou come again, we can change it once more. At the other side of thechateau there is a little churchyard, with a ruined chapel. Theneighbors are afraid to pass it by night. The road is deserted there,and a stile opens a way into these grounds. Cross it and you can find acovert of thickets, to within fifty steps of this spot."
I promised, of course, to observe her instructions implicitly.
"I have lived for more than a year in an agony of irresolution. I havedecided at last. I have lived a melancholy life; a lonelier life than ispassed in the cloister. I have had no one to confide in; no one toadvise me; no one to save me from the horrors of my existence. I havefound a brave and prompt friend at last. Shall I ever forget the heroictableau of the hall of the Belle Etoile? Have you--have you really keptthe rose I gave you, as we parted? Yes--you swear it. You need not; Itrust you. Richard, how often have I in solitude repeated your name,learned from my servant. Richard, my hero! Oh! Richard! Oh, my king! Ilove you!"
I would have folded her to my heart--thrown myself at her feet. But thisbeautiful and--shall I say it--inconsistent woman repelled me.
"No, we must not waste our moments in extravagances. Understand my case.There is no such thing as indifference in the married state. Not to loveone's husband," she continued, "is to hate him. The Count, ridiculous inall else, is formidable in his jealousy. In mercy, then, to me, observecaution. Affect to all you speak to, the most complete ignorance of allthe people in the Chateau de la Carque; and, if anyone in your presencementions the Count or Countess de St. Alyre, be sure you say you neversaw either. I shall have more to say to you tomorrow night. I havereasons that I cannot now explain, for all I do, and all I postpone.Farewell. Go! Leave me."
She waved me back, peremptorily. I echoed her "farewell," and obeyed.
This interview had not lasted, I think, more than ten minutes. I scaledthe park wall again, and reached the Dragon Volant before its doors wereclosed.
I lay awake in my bed, in a fever of elation. I saw, till the dawnbroke, and chased the vision, the beautiful Countess de St. Alyre,always in the dark, before me.