Chapter IV
MONSIEUR DROQVILLE
Full of this exciting hope I sauntered out upon the steps of the BelleEtoile. It was now night, and a pleasant moonlight over everything. Ihad entered more into my romance since my arrival, and this poetic lightheightened the sentiment. What a drama if she turned out to be theCount's daughter, and in love with me! What a delightful--_tragedy_if she turned out to be the Count's wife! In this luxurious mood I wasaccosted by a tall and very elegantly made gentleman, who appeared to beabout fifty. His air was courtly and graceful, and there was in hiswhole manner and appearance something so distinguished that it wasimpossible not to suspect him of being a person of rank.
He had been standing upon the steps, looking out, like me, upon themoonlight effects that transformed, as it were, the objects andbuildings in the little street. He accosted me, I say, with thepoliteness, at once easy and lofty, of a French nobleman of the oldschool. He asked me if I were not Mr. Beckett? I assented; and heimmediately introduced himself as the Marquis d'Harmonville (thisinformation he gave me in a low tone), and asked leave to present mewith a letter from Lord R----, who knew my father slightly, and hadonce done me, also, a trifling kindness.
This English peer, I may mention, stood very high in the politicalworld, and was named as the most probable successor to the distinguishedpost of English Minister at Paris. I received it with a low bow, andread:
My Dear Beckett,
I beg to introduce my very dear friend, the Marquis d'Harmonville, whowill explain to you the nature of the services it may be in your powerto render him and us.
He went on to speak of the Marquis as a man whose great wealth, whoseintimate relations with the old families, and whose legitimate influencewith the court rendered him the fittest possible person for thosefriendly offices which, at the desire of his own sovereign, and of ourgovernment, he has so obligingly undertaken. It added a great deal to myperplexity, when I read, further:
By-the-bye, Walton was here yesterday, and told me that your seat waslikely to be attacked; something, he says, is unquestionably going on atDomwell. You know there is an awkwardness in my meddling ever socautiously. But I advise, if it is not very officious, your makingHaxton look after it and report immediately. I fear it is serious. Iought to have mentioned that, for reasons that you will see, when youhave talked with him for five minutes, the Marquis--with the concurrenceof all our friends--drops his title, for a few weeks, and is at presentplain Monsieur Droqville. I am this moment going to town, and can say nomore.
Yours faithfully, R----
I was utterly puzzled. I could scarcely boast of Lord R----'s Iacquaintance. I knew no one named Haxton, and, except my hatter, no onecalled Walton; and this peer wrote as if we were intimate friends! Ilooked at the back of the letter, and the mystery was solved. And now,to my consternation--for I was plain Richard Beckett--I read:
"_To George Stanhope Beckett, Esq., M.P._"
I looked with consternation in the face of the Marquis.
"What apology can I offer to Monsieur the Mar---- to Monsieur Droqville?It is true my name is Beckett--it is true I am known, though veryslightly, to Lord R----; but the letter was not intended for me. My nameis Richard Beckett--this is to Mr. Stanhope Beckett, the member forShillingsworth. What can I say, or do, in this unfortunate situation? Ican only give you my honor as a gentleman, that, for me, the letter,which I now return, shall remain as unviolated a secret as before Iopened it. I am so shocked and grieved that such a mistake should haveoccurred!"
I dare say my honest vexation and good faith were pretty legibly writtenin my countenance; for the look of gloomy embarrassment which had for amoment settled on the face of the Marquis, brightened; he smiled,kindly, and extended his hand.
"I have not the least doubt that Monsieur Beckett will respect my littlesecret. As a mistake was destined to occur, I have reason to thank mygood stars that it should have been with a gentleman of honor. MonsieurBeckett will permit me, I hope, to place his name among those of myfriends?"
I thanked the Marquis very much for his kind expressions. He went on tosay:
"If, Monsieur, I can persuade you to visit me at Claironville, inNormandy, where I hope to see, on the 15th of August, a great manyfriends, whose acquaintance it might interest you to make, I shall betoo happy."
I thanked him, of course, very gratefully for his hospitality. Hecontinued: "I cannot, for the present, see my friends, for reasons whichyou may surmise, at my house in Paris. But Monsieur will be so good asto let me know the hotel he means to stay at in Paris; and he will findthat although the Marquis d'Harmonville is not in town, that MonsieurDroqville will not lose sight of him."
With many acknowledgments I gave him, the information he desired.
"And in the meantime," he continued, "if you think of any way in whichMonsieur Droqville can be of use to you, our communication shall not beinterrupted, and I shall so manage matters that you can easily let meknow."
I was very much flattered. The Marquis had, as we say, taken a fancy tome. Such likings at first sight often ripen into lasting friendships. Tobe sure it was just possible that the Marquis might think it prudent tokeep the involuntary depositary of a political secret, even so vague aone, in good humor.
Very graciously the Marquis took his leave, going up the stairs of theBelle Etoile.
I remained upon the steps for a minute, lost in speculation upon thisnew theme of interest. But the wonderful eyes, the thrilling voice, theexquisite figure of the beautiful lady who had taken possession of myimagination, quickly re-asserted their influence. I was again gazing atthe sympathetic moon, and descending the steps I loitered along thepavements among strange objects, and houses that were antique andpicturesque, in a dreamy state, thinking.
In a little while I turned into the inn-yard again. There had come alull. Instead of the noisy place it was an hour or two before, the yardwas perfectly still and empty, except for the carriages that stood hereand there. Perhaps there was a servants' table-d'hote just then. I wasrather pleased to find solitude; and undisturbed I found out mylady-love's carriage, in the moonlight. I mused, I walked round it; Iwas as utterly foolish and maudlin as very young men, in my situation,usually are. The blinds were down, the doors, I suppose, locked. Thebrilliant moonlight revealed everything, and cast sharp, black shadowsof wheel, and bar, and spring, on the pavement. I stood before theescutcheon painted on the door, which I had examined in the daylight. Iwondered how often her eyes had rested on the same object. I pondered ina charming dream. A harsh, loud voice, over my shoulder, said suddenly:"A red stork--good! The stork is a bird of prey; it is vigilant, greedy,and catches gudgeons. Red, too!--blood red! Hal ha! the symbol isappropriate."
I had turned about, and beheld the palest face I ever saw. It was broad,ugly, and malignant. The figure was that of a French officer, inundress, and was six feet high. Across the nose and eyebrow there was adeep scar, which made the repulsive face grimmer.
The officer elevated his chin and his eyebrows, with a scoffing chuckle,and said: "I have shot a stork, with a rifle bullet, when he thoughthimself safe in the clouds, for mere sport!" (He shrugged, and laughedmalignantly.) "See, Monsieur; when a man like me--a man of energy, youunderstand, a man with all his wits about him, a man who has made thetour of Europe under canvas, and, _parbleu_! often without it--resolvesto discover a secret, expose a crime, catch a thief, spit arobber on the point of his sword, it is odd if he does not succeed. Ha!ha! ha! Adieu, Monsieur!"
He turned with an angry whisk on his heel, and swaggered with longstrides out of the gate.