Chapter XXIII
A CUP OF COFFEE
The room was carpetless. On the floor were a quantity of shavings, andsome score of bricks. Beyond these, on a narrow table, lay an objectwhich I could hardly believe I saw aright.
I approached and drew from it a sheet which had very slightly disguisedits shape. There was no mistake about it. It was a coffin; and on thelid was a plate, with the inscription in French:
PIERRE DE LA ROCHE ST. AMAND. AGE DE XXIII ANS.
I drew back with a double shock. So, then, the funeral after all had notyet left! Here lay the body. I had been deceived. This, no doubt,accounted for the embarrassment so manifest in the Countess's manner.She would have done more wisely had she told me the true state of thecase.
I drew back from this melancholy room, and closed the door. Her distrustof me was the worst rashness she could have committed. There is nothingmore dangerous than misapplied caution. In entire ignorance of the factI had entered the room, and there I might have lighted upon some of thevery persons it was our special anxiety that I should avoid.
These reflections were interrupted, almost as soon as began, by thereturn of the Countess de St. Alyre. I saw at a glance that she detectedin my face some evidence of what had happened, for she threw a hastylook towards the door.
"Have you seen anything--anything to disturb you, dear Richard? Have youbeen out of this room?"
I answered promptly, "Yes," and told her frankly what had happened.
"Well, I did not like to make you more uneasy than necessary. Besides,it is disgusting and horrible. The body is there; but the Count haddeparted a quarter of an hour before I lighted the colored lamp, andprepared to receive you. The body did not arrive till eight or tenminutes after he had set out. He was afraid lest the people at Pere laChaise should suppose that the funeral was postponed. He knew that theremains of poor Pierre would certainly reach this tonight, although anunexpected delay has occurred; and there are reasons why he wishes thefuneral completed before tomorrow. The hearse with the body must leavethis in ten minutes. So soon as it is gone, we shall be free to set outupon our wild and happy journey. The horses are to the carriage in the_porte-cochere_. As for this _funeste_ horror" (she shudderedvery prettily), "let us think of it no more."
She bolted the door of communication, and when she turned it was withsuch a pretty penitence in her face and attitude, that I was ready tothrow myself at her feet.
"It is the last time," she said, in a sweet sad little pleading, "Ishall ever practice a deception on my brave and beautiful Richard--myhero! Am I forgiven?"
Here was another scene of passionate effusion, and lovers' raptures anddeclamations, but only murmured lest the ears of listeners should bebusy.
At length, on a sudden, she raised her hand, as if to prevent mystirring, her eyes fixed on me and her ear toward the door of the roomin which the coffin was placed, and remained breathless in that attitudefor a few moments. Then, with a little nod towards me, she moved ontip-toe to the door, and listened, extending her hand backward as if towarn me against advancing; and, after a little time, she returned, stillon tip-toe, and whispered to me, "They are removing the coffin--comewith me."
I accompanied her into the room from which her maid, as she told me, hadspoken to her. Coffee and some old china cups, which appeared to mequite beautiful, stood on a silver tray; and some liqueur glasses, witha flask, which turned out to be noyau, on a salver beside it.
"I shall attend you. I'm to be your servant here; I am to have my ownway; I shall not think myself forgiven by my darling if he refuses toindulge me in anything."
She filled a cup with coffee and handed it to me with her left hand; herright arm she fondly passed over my shoulder, and with her fingersthrough my curls, caressingly, she whispered, "Take this, I shall takesome just now."
It was excellent; and when I had done she handed me the liqueur, which Ialso drank.
"Come back, dearest, to the next room," she said. "By this time thoseterrible people must have gone away, and we shall be safer there, forthe present, than here."
"You shall direct, and I obey; you shall command me, not only now, butalways, and in all things, my beautiful queen!" I murmured.
My heroics were unconsciously, I daresay, founded upon my ideal of theFrench school of lovemaking. I am, even now, ashamed as I recall thebombast to which I treated the Countess de St. Alyre.
"There, you shall have another miniature glass--a fairy glass--ofnoyau," she said gaily. In this volatile creature, the funereal gloom ofthe moment before, and the suspense of an adventure on which all herfuture was staked, disappeared in a moment. She ran and returned withanother tiny glass, which, with an eloquent or tender little speech, Iplaced to my lips and sipped.
I kissed her hand, I kissed her lips, I gazed in her beautiful eyes, andkissed her again unresisting.
"You call me Richard, by what name am I to call my beautiful divinity?"I asked.
"You call me Eugenie, it is my name. Let us be quite real; that is, ifyou love as entirely as I do."
"Eugenie!" I exclaimed, and broke into a new rapture upon the name.
It ended by my telling her how impatient I was to set out upon ourjourney; and, as I spoke, suddenly an odd sensation overcame me. It wasnot in the slightest degree like faintness. I can find no phrase todescribe it, but a sudden constraint of the brain; it was as if themembrane in which it lies, if there be such a thing, contracted, andbecame inflexible.
"Dear Richard! what is the matter?" she exclaimed, with terror in herlooks. "Good Heavens! are you ill? I conjure you, sit down; sit in thischair." She almost forced me into one; I was in no condition to offerthe least resistance. I recognized but too truly the sensations thatsupervened. I was lying back in the chair in which I sat, without thepower, by this time, of uttering a syllable, of closing my eyelids, ofmoving my eyes, of stirring a muscle. I had in a few seconds glided intoprecisely the state in which I had passed so many appalling hours whenapproaching Paris, in my night-drive with the Marquis d'Harmonville.
Great and loud was the lady's agony. She seemed to have lost all senseof fear. She called me by my name, shook me by the shoulder, raised myarm and let it fall, all the time imploring of me, in distractingsentences, to make the slightest sign of life, and vowing that if I didnot, she would make away with herself.
These ejaculations, after a minute or two, suddenly subsided. The ladywas perfectly silent and cool. In a very business-like way she took acandle and stood before me, pale indeed, very pale, but with anexpression only of intense scrutiny with a dash of horror in it. Shemoved the candle before my eyes slowly, evidently watching the effect.She then set it down, and rang a handball two or three times sharply.She placed the two cases (I mean hers containing the jewels and mystrong box) side by side on the table; and I saw her carefully lock thedoor that gave access to the room in which I had just now sipped mycoffee.