I did not well know what to anticipate from these directions, for it was then in the early part of spring, and at six o'clock the evening was too far advanced to afford anything like sufficient light for a fair single combat. Nevertheless, I had, of course, nothing but to obey; and, slipping out about half past five, I got the tools from the garden; and after placing them in a spot where they were not likely to be observed, I returned to the library, where I was very soon joined by Monsieur de Villardin. His hat and cloak were already there, and I was just aiding him to put them on, when the groom, who had been despatched to Rennes, returned with a notary and the papers prepared for signature. By the calm way with which Monsieur de Villardin took this interruption, called for lights, heard the papers read, and went through all the necessary formalities for investing me with the property which he had bestowed upon me, I easily divined that he had no fixed appointment for that hour, and began to suspect the real object of his expedition. When all was concluded, and the notary sent back under a safe escort, he bade me follow him. We thus issued forth in the dusk; and having furnished ourselves with the spade and pick-axe, proceeded a short distance on the road towards Rennes.
"Now, my young friend," he said, at length, "I must trust to your guidance. I have heard that you never forgot spot, person, or thing, that you once have seen. Do you think you can now lead me to the tree, under which Monsieur de Mesnil's horse was tied, when you passed yesterday morning?"
"I think I can," I replied, "and, certainly, if not to the precise tree, I can lead you to the next one to it; for there were but two or three together, and I know the clump well."
When we reached the neighbourhood of the spot, the various objects around at once recalled to my remembrance which was the tree I sought; and, having approached it, Monsieur de Villardin measured out a space of ground beneath its branches about six feet by three, and, causing me to remove the turf in one piece, we both set vigorously to work, and, with pick-axe and spade, soon hollowed out a sufficient trench to contain the body of a man. "If I fall," he said, when we had concluded our work, "let it be remembered, that I wish this to be my grave. If I survive I will direct you what to do."
Before leaving the spot, he caused me to carry about a dozen shovelfuls of the earth away, and cast them into the river, which flowed at the distance of three or four hundred yards. We then placed the tools in the grave, and returned to the château, Monsieur de Villardin directing me previously, to be up by five the next morning, to saddle his horse with my own hands, and, leaving it prepared in the stable, to go on to the spot where he had been working, and wait there for his coming.
The coolness with which he set about all his proceedings, and my knowledge of his skill as a swordsman, made me feel very confident that the issue of the combat would be in his favour, although his adversary was his junior by near twenty years. I had seen so much of such affairs, too, that I could generally form a very good guess in regard to the result; and, from all I had observed of Monsieur de Villardin's conduct during the day, I went to bed with very little fear for his safety the next morning. I was up at the time prescribed, saddled the horse as well as I could in utter darkness, and then walked away to the tree, which I reached just as the first faint gray of the morning began to mingle with the blackness of night.
When I had waited there about a quarter of an hour, I heard the sound of a horse's feet, and, a moment after, perceived Monsieur de Villardin, who sprang to the ground, and, giving me his rein to hold, only remarked that it was darker than he had expected; although, by this time, the dawn had made considerable progress. In about five minutes after, which he spent in selecting a piece of firm dry turf unencumbered by trees, and fitted, as far as possible, for the sort of morning's amusement in which he was going to exercise himself, the sound of another horse's feet was heard, and we were soon joined by the Count de Mesnil. He was quite alone; and, dismounting at a little distance, he bowed coldly to Monsieur de Villardin, saying, "As you requested, sir, I have come alone. You, I see, have brought your page."
"I did so, sir," replied the Duke, "in the first place, that he might hold our horses; in the next, that he might aid the survivor in filling up yon trench," and he pointed to the grave. "He is a boy of honour and of birth," he added, "and you may trust him fully; but, if you desire it, I will order him to withdraw."
"Not on my account," replied Monsieur de Mesnil; "I am just as well pleased that he should be present; though, I must say, that I should have thought the Duke de Villardin might have found some fitter person than a page to carry his cartel to the Count de Mesnil."
"I have chosen the method of proceeding I have followed, Monsieur de Mesnil, not only because I think these things between brave men had better always be done as quietly as possible, but also, because I judged it unnecessary that many witnesses should hear me tell you, as I now do, that I look upon you as a villain, a hypocrite, and a traitor, devoid of every good feeling but the brute quality of courage!"
"Enough, enough, sir," cried the Count de Mesnil: "the fewer of such words as well as the fewer witnesses the better. Where do you take your ground?"
He then gave me his horse's rein, and Monsieur de Villardin led him to the spot which he had chosen, made him examine it accurately, to see that there was no inequality or artifice, and then, drawing his sword, caused his adversary to measure it with the blade of his own,--which proved to be nearly an inch longer. On perceiving this difference, the Count declared that he was perfectly willing to wait, if Monsieur de Villardin thought fit to send to the castle for a more equal weapon; but the Duke replied, that he was quite contented with the sword that he had; and, throwing away his cloak, hat, and coat, took his ground, and put himself in a posture of defence.
The Count de Mesnil prepared for the combat more slowly. He certainly evinced no fear; but there were two or three slight traits that I remarked in his conduct, which induced me to believe that, either from the consciousness of having wronged his friend, or from feeling himself inferior in skill and dexterity, he advanced not to the encounter with the same confidence as that which appeared in the whole demeanour of Monsieur de Villardin. When the Duke had first referred to the grave which he had dug the night before, and pointed it out with his hand, the eye of the young Count strained eagerly upon it for a moment, and it was evident that the anticipations the sight naturally called up were felt bitterly. He was pale, too, and though he spoke firmly and calmly, I perceived that there was a difficulty in unfastening his cloak, and all the other little preparations, which spoke a mind intensely occupied with other thoughts. I observed, also, and it seemed somewhat strange, that he in no degree referred to the cause of his present hostile opposition to a man who had been so lately his friend; and indeed it seemed that the few short lines which Monsieur de Villardin had written had been quite sufficient to explain all, and to make him feel that amity was changed for ever into unquenchable hate between them.
At length all was prepared, and the swords of the two combatants crossed. After a few parades on either part, which served no purpose but to let each know the skill and peculiar mode of fencing of his adversary, the assault assumed a more serious character; but still it appeared that both wished to maintain the defensive, and I plainly saw that, more than once, the Duke could have wounded or disarmed his opponent, had he thought fit. In a short time, however, the Count de Mesnil, who was of a hasty and passionate disposition, and not so old a soldier as Monsieur de Villardin, became heated in the encounter, and pressed his antagonist hard, still keeping a wary hand and eye, but evidently becoming more and more vehement at each pass. At length, in a furious lunge, by not keeping his right foot quite straight, and probably more accustomed to the salle d'armes than the green sward, he slipped, and came upon his knee, perfectly at the mercy of his adversary. But Monsieur de Villardin, to my surprise, dropped the point of his sword, bidding him rise.
"I do not take advantage of an accident, sir," he said. The Count rose, with downcast eyes and a burning cheek, and replied, after a moment's pause, "I cannot, of course, after this act of generosity, think----"
"If, sir," said Monsieur de Villardin, cutting him short, "you are contented to go forth into the world again, as one who bears the name of villain, and hypocrite, and scoundrel--and, I shall then add, coward--mount your horse and begone:--if not, resume your place."
The Count's eyes flashed, and the combat was instantly renewed, but this time with a different result. At the end of four or five passes, with a movement so rapid that I could scarcely see how it was effected, though it may be believed I was an eager spectator, Monsieur de Villardin parried a lunge of his adversary in such a manner as to leave the whole of the Count's person open. He then lunged in return, and the next moment the Count de Mesnil was lying prostrate on the turf. At a sign from the Duke, I threw the bridles of the horses over a low bough, and ran up to the spot. The fallen man by that time had raised himself upon one arm, and with the other hand seemed grasping at the blades of grass; but he spoke not, and his head, drooping forward, concealed his countenance. "Shall I bring water?" I said; but, ere time was given for an answer, the strength which had enabled him to raise himself so far passed away, and with a single groan he fell back upon the ground and expired.
We stood and gazed upon his still, pale countenance for several minutes; but it was very evident, from the first look, that his career was at an end; and, after a pause, the Duke bent over him and opened his vest. Scarcely a drop of blood had flowed from the wound which caused his death, although, from the direction it had taken, it seemed to me that it must have pierced his heart.
"It is over!" said Monsieur de Villardin,--"it is over! yet, put your hand upon his heart, my boy: see if it beats."
As I opened his shirt to do so, there dropped out a locket, which was suspended from his neck by a blue riband, and which contained a single lock of dark hair. As soon as he saw it, the Duke caught it up, and unfastening the riband, gazed upon the hair for a moment or two with an eager look. It was certainly the colour to a very shade, of that of Madame de Villardin; and I instantly saw that the demon had taken possession of her husband once more. After gazing at the locket for several minutes, he put it by, and then asked me, sternly, if the man were dead.
I replied that he certainly was, as far as I could discover. "Then now to our next task," said the Duke: "bring me yon mantle and coat."
I immediately obeyed, and bringing forward the clothes of the unhappy Count, I aided in wrapping the body therein; and then, taking the feet, while the Duke raised the head, we bore the corpse to the grave that we had dug, and laid it there, without prayer or benediction. We next placed the hat and sword of the deceased in the earth along with him; and then, as fast as possible, filled up the pit with mould. Notwithstanding the quantity of earth I had removed the night before, there was still more than enough to fill up the grave to the level of the other ground, and I had four or five shovelfuls more to carry down and cast into the river. When that was done, however, and the last spadeful had been disposed of, we laid the turf down again over the spot; and so carefully had it been removed, that, though the ground was a little raised, it required some examination to discover where the aperture had been made.
"A few showers of rain," said the Duke, as he gazed upon the grave, "will remove every trace."
I replied nothing, but I thought that the rain of many years would never remove the traces of that morning's work from his heart or from my memory. In regard to the ground, however, I entertained no apprehension of its ever being discovered. The young Count himself, in tying his horse to that tree when he came on his furtive and evil visit to the dwelling of his friend, had of course selected one of the most retired spots that he could find; and it was only the accidental circumstance of my cutting across from the particular point of the high road where I had left Monsieur de Villardin on the way to Rennes, that had caused me to discover the charger in that situation. In that spot, too, the turf was short, and the grass any thing but luxuriant; so that the shepherds were not likely to lead their flocks thither, at least till the year was more advanced, by which time all traces of the grave would be effaced. The only thing now to dispose of was the horse; and after examining the ground carefully, in order to ascertain that nothing of any kind had been dropped or forgotten, the Duke directed me to lead the animal some distance in the way to the Count's own dwelling, and then turn him loose.
I did as he bade me, leaving Monsieur de Villardin to return to the castle alone; and, taking the horse by the bridle, I brought it to the vicinity of the road which led to Mesnil Moray, at a spot about half a mile from the bridge which crosses the Vilaine. There I gave it the rein; and, though it had followed as quietly as possible up to that moment, no sooner did it find itself free, than it darted away as if it had suddenly become mad. It sprang at once over a fence, and crossed the high road, taking the direction of its lord's dwelling, without any regard to path. I climbed up a neighbouring bank to watch its course for an instant; and, to my surprise, saw it plunge into the river, and, after sinking down from the force with which it darted in, rise up again, swim the stream, spring up the bank, and gallop away across the fields.
There was something awful in the sight; and I could not help thinking, as the noble horse bounded away, that there was a living witness of the bloody scene in which I had just taken part, that, could he have found voice, would have soon called the friends of his fallen lord to avenge his death.
Whatever the Duke himself might feel, I returned home gloomy from my share in the affair. I sincerely believed, indeed, that I had done nothing but my duty in informing him of the injury that the Count de Mesnil had striven to do him, and of the insult that had been offered to his wife. He, on his part, too, I firmly believe, imagined that he had done nothing but that which he was bound to do as a soldier and a man of honour; but still there was something in the whole affair--the solitary encounter--the grave prepared--the burial in unhallowed ground, which added to the event all those dark and awful associations that deprived us of the power of classing it with those common encounters, with which he and I were both too familiar to remember them with any great pain when they were over.
A little less than an hour had been consumed in the whole affair, at least on the part of the Duke, for I had been absent for a much longer space of time in leading away the horse of the deceased cavalier. However, as our household was not the most matutinal in the world, few of the servants were up, even when I returned; and I doubt not that no one in the whole family but myself had the slightest suspicion that the Duke had for a moment quitted his own dwelling. Thinking it right to make a report of what I had done after I had left him, I now went at once to the library, where I found him, in his robe de chambre, seated at a table, on which neither books nor papers were opened before him, but there lay the fatal locket which he had taken from the person of the Count de Mesnil, and his eyes were fixed steadfastly upon the lock of dark hair that it contained. He instantly took it up when I entered, and of course I ventured to make no observation, though I saw from his haggard look and frowning brow that he was once more adding the torments of suspicion to the pangs which the fatal business of that morning had left behind. He listened attentively to all I had to say, and though he gave a slight shudder when I mentioned the wild way in which the horse had dashed off towards Mesnel Moray, he made no farther comment, but waived me to leave him, saying he would speak with me more another time.
No injunction to secrecy had been laid upon me, but the Duke seemed to consider it perfectly unnecessary to enjoin me not to reveal the transactions of which I had been a witness, and in some of which I had borne a part. As may be well conceived, I never dreamt of such a thing as babbling, and the matter lay buried as deep and as securely in my heart as it did in his own. Nobody noticed that I had been out earlier than usual, and consequently I was subjected to no questions; and the only single observation referring to the business which I ever heard in the family, was when the head groom asked the Duke's permission to take his favourite horse to the farrier at Rennes, arguing that the animal was ill, from having found him that morning as heated as if he had come from a gallop.
The household of the Prés Vallée were, indeed, amongst the last to hear the rumours and inquiries which soon began to spread concerning the Count de Mesnil. That some accident had happened to him became evident to his servants and retainers within a short time after his death had taken place; for although no one had remarked, with any particular attention, the fact of his having gone out at such an early hour unaccompanied, supposing him to be engaged in some love intrigue which did not court witnesses, yet when, in about two hours after, his horse, masterless and foaming, darted into the court-yard of the castle, it could no longer be doubted that the adventure of the morning had terminated ill for the Count. On examining the trappings and accoutrements of the horse, it was discovered that not only the girths but the saddle itself was drenched with water, and of course conjecture was led upon a new and a false train concerning the event that had occurred. Some, indeed, contended, that the Count had been killed by robbers or assassins; but the greater part of his followers believed that, in attempting to swim the river, he had been washed out of the saddle and drowned. Information, however, was sent immediately to Rennes; all his relations had notice of what had taken place, and immediate search and investigation were instituted to discover his body, and to ascertain the circumstances of his fate. A new light, however, was thrown upon the business when the papers of the unfortunate young nobleman were opened by the proper person. It was then found, by two documents which he had written on the night previous to the morning of his death, that he had anticipated such an event, and had made every disposition of his property accordingly. He referred not, however, in the slightest degree, to the sort of danger which he apprehended; the cartel of Monsieur de Villardin, which had probably been couched in terms of bitter reproach, had been destroyed likewise; and, consequently, imagination had as wide a range as ever. Still some declared that he had purposely drowned himself, and certainly the state in which his horse had returned justified the searches which were made for his body in the river; but others more wildly contended--as he had taken a road which might, perhaps, have led him to the forest--that he had been murdered by the robbers who had so lately attacked and slain one of the royal couriers, with the three soldiers by whom he had been attended. New perquisitions were made in the forest. The whole country round about was searched without effect. Rumours, astonishment, exaggeration, and a thousand falsehoods and absurdities filled up the next six weeks, and then the whole gradually faded away, till the nine days' wonder was at an end, and the death of the young Count de Mesnil became a story to frighten children.
During the six weeks, however, that the fruitless investigations continued, gloom and darkness reigned over our dwelling. Deep and painful were evidently the feelings of the Duke de Villardin in regard to this event; and a thousand times, I am sure, did he regret that he had not pursued the usual mode of arranging such encounters, which would, at least, have spared him every accessary circumstance that now tormented him from day to day. As a friend of the dead nobleman, he was frequently consulted upon his affairs, and even in regard to the search for his body; and every one thought that they were speaking upon a subject which must interest him, when they detailed to his ears any of the numerous absurdities that were current in the country concerning the death of the Count. All this was very terrible; but, besides all this, there were feelings in the heart of Monsieur de Villardin which aggravated the regrets consequent upon the deed which he had committed. He had known the young Count de Mesnil as a boy. He had known and loved his parents. He had seen him grow up their hope and joy. He had himself anticipated great things from his early promise, and yet his had been the hand thus early to lay him low in a bloody and an unknown grave.
Though sometimes he spoke to me upon the subject when we were perfectly alone, it was more from various little points in his conduct than from his own words that I discovered these feelings. So far from ever going near the spot where the death of the Count de Mesnil had taken place, he never even, when he could avoid it, rode in that direction, as if the very wind which blew from the grave wafted fresh reproaches to his heart. Even in riding to Rennes, the road to which city passed within half a mile of the spot, if he could possibly devise any excuse for so doing, he would take the most circuitous path, to avoid even coming in its neighbourhood.
Nevertheless, whenever he spoke with me upon the subject, he justified all that he had done, and declared, that were it to do over again, he would act exactly in the same manner. I saw, too, that unhappily, there was another feeling in his bosom, which, while it rendered him more miserable than it is possible to describe, confirmed him in this impression--I mean the suspicions which had been freshly excited in regard to his wife, which, as the effect produced upon his mind by my report of her conversation with Monsieur de Mesnil died away, seemed to become stronger and stronger every hour. It was long, indeed, before he again spoke to me on the subject; but twice I saw him with the locket in his hand, and at other times his eye would rest on the dark tresses of Madame de Villardin, while I could see plainly that he was torturing his own heart by comparing them in shade and colour with the ringlet which that locket contained. A doubt also more dreadful still, seemed to have taken possession of his mind; at least I argued so from the following circumstance.
From the various painful feelings connected with the Prés Vallée, he had determined to change his residence for a time to the château of Dumont; and he told me that he should despatch me thither before the rest of the family. The day previous to my departure he sent for me to speak with him in the saloon, in regard to various matters which were to be done before his arrival at Dumont. The Duchess and his little girl were both present; and, after he had concluded his directions, Madame de Villardin told me that if I would wait a few minutes she would bring me a billet for her old nurse, who inhabited the castle to which I was going. I was standing near a window behind the Duke, and when his wife rose, and proceeded towards her own room to write the note she had promised,--displaying, as she did so, that alteration in her figure which denoted her situation,--I saw the eye of her husband fix upon her with an intensity that seemed scarcely sane. Happily she did not perceive it, but walked slowly out of the room; and, as soon as she was gone, Monsieur de Villardin, who seemed to have forgot that there was any one else present, caught his little girl in his arms, and kissed her repeatedly, murmuring,--"Thou at least art mine own."
He started when he remembered that I was there, and a quick flush came over his cheek; but the expression of deep grief, which, I feel sure, must have been upon my countenance, appeared instantly to calm him, and, laying his hand affectionately upon my shoulder, he said,--"Thou art a good youth. When thou hast got this note, go into the park and wait me there; I wish to speak with thee for some time."
As there is never any telling to what acts of madness or weakness, folly or meanness, a suspicious nature will not reduce a man, I was almost afraid that Monsieur de Villardin was desirous of examining the contents of his wife's note; and I felt not a little uneasy under the apprehension of his proposing to me to give it up to him. But in this I did him injustice; and when, after receiving the billet, I had gone out into the park, and he had joined me, he at once turned the conversation to matters entirely in the past. "From everything," he said, "that I have seen and heard, I am inclined, my boy, to put the fullest faith in all you say; and of this fact you cannot doubt, since upon your word alone I have risked my own life and taken that of another. There are, nevertheless, some circumstances of an extraordinary nature, which make me desirous that you should repeat, once more, the conversation which you overheard between Madame de Villardin and the unhappy young man who lies out yonder;" and he pointed with his hand in the direction of the spot where the Count de Mesnil was buried. "Tell me, then, exactly the whole truth," he added, "and fear not that anything you may say will agitate or affect me."
I willingly obeyed, for I well knew that impressions of good being never so lasting as impressions of evil, require reiteration; and, without varying a word, as far as my memory would serve me, I recapitulated exactly all that had passed between the Duchess and the Count de Mesnil, adding, at the same time, that the tone of scorn and contempt in which she spoke to him was more forcible than even her words.
"In riding past the house that day," demanded the Duke, "which side did you take?"
"The opposite side to the small saloon, my lord," I replied, very well understanding to what his question tended; "and as I came over the turf, and from among the trees--which, if you remember the way I took, you will see I must have done--it is perfectly impossible that any one in that side of the house could either have heard or have observed my return."
"But, could they not hear you enter the library?" demanded the Duke.
"Impossible, my lord," I answered; "for the first door was open, and the second, as you know, makes no noise; besides, I saw the whole immediately, and Madame la Duchesse was speaking before I entered. It was only the end of what she said that I heard."
Monsieur de Villardin made no reply for some time, but pondered deeply over my words, gnawing his lip, and knitting his brow. At length he spoke, but it seemed more to himself than to me that he addressed his words. "And yet, that he should possess a lock of her hair!" he said; "it is impossible!--there must be some deceit."
"Oh, my lord, it is not her hair," I cried; "depend upon it, there is some mistake."
"False boy!" he cried, turning angrily upon me, "it is her hair! There is no mistake! Have I not proved it by every test? Either you have been deceived or are deceiving. But, no! you are deceived, I believe. Leave me--leave me, sir!"
It may easily be conceived that I obeyed willingly, for there is but little use in reasoning with a madman, and such I looked upon Monsieur de Villardin to be, in the matter of jealousy, at least. Returning to the castle, I occupied myself as usual; but the Duke did not come back for several hours, wandering about, as had been his custom lately, busied with solitary reveries which but served to foster the gloom and anxiety to which he was a prey.
The next morning, as I was to set out for Dumont before the breakfast hour of the household, I descended about eight o'clock to the apartments of good old Jerome Laborde, whose affection for me had not decreased since I had rendered so many services to his nephew. I calculated, therefore, on finding a substantial meal prepared for me in his room; nor was I mistaken, for there it stood upon the table, consisting of everything qualified to fortify the eager and craving stomach of youth against the effects of a long journey.
"Thank you, thank you, good Jerome," I cried, at the sight; "thank you both for my breakfast, and for rising be-times in the morning to give it me, as I know you love not to be the first in the house to see the sun."
"Alack! young gentleman," he answered, with a mournful shake of the head, "although I have been up an hour, yet I am not by several the first that saw the sun this morning. My lord has been up since six. So has Gaspard de Belleville, and closeted with his master for an hour. So, too, has been that pert slut Suzette, my mistress's maid, and she, too, has been called to the conference. I fear all this bodes our poor lady no good, though God knows what my lord can find to be jealous of here, where she sees not a living soul but himself."
This intelligence did not serve as a very pleasant accompaniment to my breakfast. I saw at once how affairs were going, and easily divined that my lord, finding me so little disposed to pamper the jealousy, which, though it tore his very heart, was still his favourite passion, was inclined to take Gaspard into his confidence, very sure of finding all sort of compliance on his part. To him I had been, as it were, a blunt razor in the hands of a man who wished to cut his own throat; but Gaspard de Belleville was very well inclined, I believed, to prove the instrument of the wrong which his lord inflicted upon himself. From this new arrangement, there was, of course, much to fear, as far as my personal favour with the Duke went; but, even under that mortification, it was no small consolation to me to think that Gaspard could do little to injure the poor Duchess. However malevolent might be his natural disposition, as far as I knew he had seen nothing which he could distort to evil purposes, and I also believed him to be too stupid to frame a story for himself, or to invent circumstances with such a regard to probability as would deceive even Monsieur de Villardin's willing credulity. What might proceed from the agency of the maid, Suzette, I could not tell. She was, herself, a bold, intriguing, saucy woman; suspected strongly by every one of not being quite a Diana; but I believed that she really was attached to her mistress, and trusted to that attachment to vindicate the Duchess from all suspicion.
My fears, therefore, if I can call them fears, were chiefly confined to myself; and, although I may safely say--now that it is all past and over--that interested feelings had nothing to do with my apprehensions, yet it was most painful to me to think I might be supplanted in the affection and confidence of a nobleman, for whom, with all his faults and his weakness, I entertained a sincere affection.
"Well, Jerome," I said, after a moment's thought, "you are an old and faithful follower of Monsieur de Villardin. You see, as we all see, how miserable he is making himself about empty fancies and phantoms in the air. Depend upon it, Gaspard is not likely to do him any good in these respects. Now it is your duty, surely, to strain every effort to counteract any evil that may be done."
"But how can I?--how can I, my dear young gentleman?" cried the old man; "I dare not speak to my lord on such subjects, unless he speaks to me."
"A few words well applied often do a great deal," replied I. "If the Duke hears his lady cried up by all his oldest and best servants and friends as what she really is--all that is good and virtuous--he will soon learn to think so too; and you may find many an opportunity of saying such words as, 'so good a lady as Madame!'--'so virtuous a lady as the Duchess!'"
"Well, well; I will try, Seigneur Jean," replied the old man; "and depend upon one thing--no one shall injure your interests with my lord while old Jerome Laborde is in the house. No, no; I will take care of them."
"Oh, I know I leave them in good hands," I replied; and ere we could say more, the groom appeared to tell me that the horses were waiting. After receiving an affectionate embrace from the good old major-domo, I ran down into the court, and sprang upon my horse, without any further leave-taking, as I was not supposed to know that Monsieur de Villardin had yet risen.
Although I loved Monsieur de Villardin sincerely, and left my interest in his heart in a very precarious state, yet I acknowledge that I was delighted to ride away from the Prés Vallée. Ever since the death of Monsieur de Mesnil, a gloom had fallen over the place, of which I could not divest it for a moment. These sensations would probably have worn away in a few days, although I began to think more seriously about human life than I formerly did, had not Monsieur de Villardin seemed to feel so deeply upon the subject himself. His regret and melancholy were a constant excitement to my own; and though, of course, the feelings that I experienced were far less poignant than his, and no other internal torment was added to the awful memories which oppressed me, yet the cloud that overcast his days shadowed mine also; and the sight of all the little traits which revealed how painfully he remembered the death of the Count, constantly recalled to my mind the share that I also had taken therein.
Besides this, my mind was fretted and annoyed at beholding continually the anxieties, suspicions, and cares, to which Monsieur de Villardin made himself a prey; the destruction of an amiable woman's happiness, and the misery of a man I loved. I have said fretted and annoyed, because latterly a degree of impatience, which sometimes almost mastered my respect, had mingled with the grief that the sight of such a state of things had first occasioned in my bosom. From all these causes, my feelings, instead of being painful, were joyful in a high degree, on quitting the scenes which, a few months before, had appeared to me so beautiful and peaceful that I had fancied I could dwell in them for ever; and each mile as I rode on seemed to take more and more of the load from off my heart.
It was the morning of a bright and beautiful day in spring; and as I suppose that there are few people who do not feel themselves happier when the aspect of the world is cheerful around them, the pleasure I experienced in getting away from scenes of discomfort and pain was augmented by the warm sunshine and the clear sky. The thirst of novelty, too, still fresh upon me, made me feel delighted with the journey; and the hope that this change in our dwelling would ultimately lead to a change in the general chain of events, had no small share in the joy with which I set out. The truth was, that though I had certainly met with a sufficient stock of adventures since I had lived with Monsieur de Villardin to occupy my time abundantly, yet they had not been (if I except those which occurred during the first few weeks) of a kind that at all suited my disposition. Enterprise of almost any sort I liked and enjoyed; but the excitement which I had lately felt was of a gloomy and of a sombre character, which saddened without satisfying--oppressed, but did not please me. Now, however, I anticipated other scenes and other pleasures; and though in truth I had not the slightest reason to suppose that any alteration would really take place, yet fancy can always supply abundance of materials for the architecture of hope; and as I journeyed on, I gave imagination full scope to work her will, in building up gay edifices in the distant prospect.
Nothing occurred to amuse or interest me in the course of my journey except the simple change of scenery; but as the country through which we passed was very beautiful, and the season one which shows off the loveliness of nature to the greatest advantage, what between fair objects flitting before my eyes as I rode along, and gay dreams rising up in my own bosom, the road did not seem long, nor the time tedious. It was night when we reached the Château of Dumont, and as the gossip of the one château had been, of course, regularly transmitted to the other, by the servants and messengers that were continually passing to and fro between them, I found that the two or three domestics by whom the house was at this time tenanted, were prepared to receive me with every sort of deference and respect, having heard that I was an especial favourite with their lord, and that he had declared he regarded me as his own son.
The next morning, at breakfast, I was visited by the intendant, and delivered to him the letters with which I was charged, and which he proceeded to read in my presence. After asking me for some explanations, in regard to the Duke's will, on two or three points which did not appear very clear to him, he added, "Here is one letter, monsieur, referring to yourself alone, and as I suppose you are well acquainted with the contents, I have only to say, that I shall be very happy to accompany you immediately."
I assured him, in reply, that I was perfectly ignorant of his meaning, as I had not been before aware that his lord had written anything concerning me at all.
"The Duke orders me here," said the intendant in reply, laying before me the letter he had just opened, "to put you in possession of the lands and houses of Juvigny, which, he says, he ceded to you, by a deed of gift, about two months ago. If, therefore, you are inclined to take possession this morning, I shall have much pleasure in walking down with you, and formally making over to you the lands, as well as pointing out the boundaries of the farm and the dependencies thereunto attached."
It is not to be supposed that so young and new a proprietor as myself would be very unwilling to see and take possession of the first property he ever had in his life; and, thanking the intendant, whom I began to look upon as a very civil person indeed, I willingly agreed to accompany him to my territory of Juvigny. As the place itself and the road that conducted thither are memorable in my little history, on many accounts, I must be permitted to describe that morning's walk, step by step, as we proceeded.
We set out, then, about half-past nine, and took our way across a broad terrace, which extended in front of the château, and which, at either extremity, sloped away into a fine road, broad enough for either horses or carriages. In front, however, it was supported by a perpendicular stone facing of about six feet high, at the bottom of which lay an extensive flower-garden, reached by a wide flight of ten steps; and, beyond the garden, again extended a fine park, laid out in walks and alleys, containing about three square miles of ground, on either side of a deep and rapid river, which, passing between high banks, took its way, through the midst of the estate, towards the sea, at which it arrived without mingling its waters with any other stream. Across this river the various paths, with which the park was intersected, were carried over a number of bridges, built in very good taste, some of stone and some of wood, as the character of the scene immediately around seemed to require. Over one of these, which consisted of a light wooden arch, the intendant and myself took our way, after having passed through the flower-garden and a considerable part of the park. This direction, I found, was followed, in order to cut across a bend in the river; for, after issuing forth through a postern door into the country beyond the park, we again crossed the stream by another bridge, and proceeded along its course, pursuing a path which wound in and out through a scene of mingled rock and wood as wild and varied as ever I beheld.
As we proceeded along this road, which we followed for about half a mile, the intendant informed me that the little farm of which I was now the master had been bought by Monsieur de Villardin, on the death of the last proprietor, lest it should at any time fall into the hands of people who might render its proximity to his park an annoyance to him. We soon after reached our boundary, and, having called at the Métairie, where I was formally introduced to the farmer and put in possession of my new property, we went round the limits, which were much more extensive than I had expected, and returned by the dwelling-house of the old Lords of Juvigny, which consisted of a small feudal tower, with modern offices on the same scale, perched upon a high bank overhanging the water, and commanding a beautiful prospect down the valley through which the river wandered.
While the intendant was busy opening the door, which, from having had entirely its own way for several years, seemed very unwilling to give admission to a new lord, I asked the good farmer, who had followed us on our round, what was the extensive grey building which I observed about a quarter of a mile farther down on the other bank of the stream. He replied, in a patois which I could scarcely make out, that it was a convent of Ursuline nuns, to whom a great part of the ground on the opposite side of the river belonged.
I answered, that I was glad to hear that I was to have such good neighbours; and, following the intendant, who had by this time opened the door, I was inducted into my house, which afforded a much greater promise of warmth and comfort in the inside, than had been given by its external appearance.
The worthy intendant showed me over every part of it; and when he had done, he added, "You have now seen the whole of the estate, sir, which being--as I understand the Duke--conferred upon you in full, gives you every seigneural privilege, comprising droits de moulin, et de colombier, d'eau, et de four."
As I turned away quite satisfied with all these fine rights, of mill and dove-cot, water and oven, I observed a slight smile pass between the intendant and the farmer; and as I did not affect to observe it, the honest countryman explained it by a question which he asked my companion in one of those horse whispers which may be heard distinctly at a mile.
"Is he a boy, really," asked the farmer, grinning, "or a little man?" The intendant made no reply, but enjoined silence by holding up one of his fingers; and, walking gravely after me, showed me the same deferential respect which he had formerly put on, and at which I could plainly see he had been laughing in his sleeve. I was nettled a good deal, I confess; for though I did not, in truth, feel myself at all what the world calls a boy, I had not the slightest wish to assume any station but that which was my due. At the same time, I am well aware, and was so even at the time, that the habit of mingling with mankind, and the fact of having passed all my early years in gathering knowledge of the world instead of poring over grammars and dictionaries, had given a sort of decision and promptitude to my manners, which, coupled with my juvenile appearance, might well win for me the character of a conceited little fellow from those who saw no farther. However, as I have said, I was nettled at finding that the respect with which the intendant had been treating me, and which was rather suspicious from its profoundness, was nothing but a mockery; and had any occasion for venting my irritation occurred at the time, I might have done so with a vehemence which most probably would have amused him and rendered myself ridiculous. A little reflection, as we walked on, took the anger, and consequently the absurdity, out of my feelings; and, remembering that it was very likely that the worthy intendant might attempt to treat me as a conceited boy in money matters also, I resolved to show him that I was fully aware of my own situation.
"Of course, Monsieur l'Intendant," said I, as we again entered the park, "you will continue to receive the rents of the farm, and pay them into the hands of Monsieur de Villardin; for though he has been kind enough to bestow it upon me, I am well aware that my youth and inexperience of such matters utterly incapacitate me to manage it myself. I know, too, that, as a foreigner, I cannot exercise any of the rights you mentioned just now, without higher permission, which, however, the Duke has already promised to solicit for me; and, doubtless, it will be granted long before I am qualified by age to make use of it."
The intendant opened his eyes half an inch wider at a discourse which, I am sure, he did not expect; and, as I thought over the business, I proceeded:--"One thing, however, I will ask you on my own account; which is, to seek me out a good tenant for the house, and the field in which it stands; as the one is overgrown with weeds, and the other is very likely to get out of repair. But, at the same time, it is absolutely necessary that the tenant should be one who is agreeable to Monsieur de Villardin. If you can find such a person as I describe, who will be attentive to and careful of the place in which he dwells, the advantage of having the house kept from dilapidation will, of course, induce you to let him have the dwelling for a certain time without rent, and the land at the lowest value of the ground."
Whether the intendant did or did not conceive a better opinion of me from this discourse, I can hardly tell; for he was one of those men, so often met with, who, with an air of profound respect, have at the same time a slight smile hanging ever about the corners of their mouths, which casts a sneering expression over their whole countenance. I gave myself very little further care upon the subject, indeed; for though the people on whom nature or habit has inflicted such a look are always hated--because, without having a pretext for resenting it, we perceive that they are insulting us in their own hearts--yet he was always civil, and never afforded me the slightest pretence for anger, either by his demeanour or his actions. It was therefore, of course, my wisest policy to think as little as possible of what I could not remedy.
At the end of a week, Monsieur de Villardin and the whole household made their appearance; and the bustle of taking possession of their new abode concealed for the first day any changes that had occurred. When all the arrangements were over, however, I began to see a marked and unpleasant difference. Monsieur de Villardin was something more than grave and gloomy; he was abstracted, and at times fierce; and it was evident that the internal irritation of his feelings made him perceive subject of offence in things the most simple and harmless.
To me he was certainly as kind as he could be; but still there was a difference there also. He often spoke to me gently, even affectionately, of my circumstances and my future prospects; treated me in most respects as his son; made me dine with himself and Madame de Villardin; but he never referred to the events which had taken place at the Prés Vallée. I saw, too, that, on the excuse of not looking upon me any longer in the light of a page, but rather as one of his own family, the familiar intercourse which I had held with him was in a great degree denied to myself and permitted to another; and that Gaspard de Belleville was closeted with him for hours every day. Of course, this did not please me; for although I trusted to my own conduct to maintain the good opinion of the Duke, yet, with the common weakness of human nature, I did not like that his confidence should be given to another, though it had often been painful to myself. I knew very well that my behaviour, though it might not have gratified his jealousy by admitting suspicions I believed to be false, would command his esteem more than that of Gaspard, who, probably, was more complacent--but who is there so strong and philosophic in heart, as to value esteem more than affection? I saw clearly, and I saw it with regret, that Monsieur de Villardin's love was likely to be given to him who pampered the weakness under which he laboured, rather than to him who tried to clear away suspicions, which, however detrimental to himself, were too firmly rooted to be eradicated without pain.
As some compensation, however, I found that my place in the regard of the Duchess was becoming higher each day; and as Monsieur de Villardin, on his arrival at Dumont, had desired me to attend upon her in her walks and drives, not as a page, but as her companion,--I was but fourteen, be it remembered,--and as her guard in case of danger, I had continually the means of cultivating her good opinion. Her spirits by this time were so depressed, that all the gay levity of manner which I had formerly remarked, was gone; and, grave, sad, and thoughtful, she took her daily walk through the park, accompanied by myself and her little girl; sometimes endeavouring to amuse herself by talking to me of England, and of the scenes that I had gone through--sometimes moved to a smile at my boyish pranks with the beautiful child that ran on beside us--but still relapsing into melancholy the moment that the evanescent light was gone. Never by any chance did she refer to her husband's behaviour towards her; though once, when she seemed more than usually depressed, her words and her manner made me think she was going to do so.
"You have greatly won Monsieur de Villardin's confidence and esteem," she said, after some previous conversation during one of our walks; "and I very well perceive that hereafter that esteem will be much increased. Now, Monsieur Hall," she proceeded, speaking with a considerable degree of emotion, "I have a favour to ask you, and a promise to exact from you. Of course, no woman in my situation can count upon life for more than three or four months, with any degree of confidence. Should I die, then, in the course of the event which is to befal me,--which I think more than probable,--as you will grow up to manhood with my children, and possess their father's confidence, will you promise me to be to them as a brother, to defend them with your whole heart and strength, by hand and voice, against any one that would wrong them; and never to forget to uphold their cause whenever you hear them assailed? Will you promise me this, upon your word of honour as a loyal Englishman and the son of a good soldier?"
"That I will, madam, and that I do," replied I: "even had you not asked it, I would have done so. But I now bind myself by everything I hold dear, in case--amongst the many changes of the world, which have laid my own hearth desolate, and given my father's house to strangers--they should ever require such weak aid as mine, I will give it to them with my whole heart and soul, and show as much zeal in their cause as if I were their brother."
I purposely made my promise as strong in point of language as I could devise, because I clearly saw, by the agitation of the Duchess while she spoke, that her husband's late conduct towards herself had excited in her bosom many a fearful apprehension in regard to the fate of her children. Hope, I have heard, will catch at straws; and certainly--though in the wide range of probability it was possible I might ultimately be able to render the services she required--there appeared but little likelihood of my assistance being of much avail: yet nevertheless my zealous promise seemed to relieve her mind greatly; and as I made it, I saw the tears, which had been crowding to the gates of her eyes while she herself had spoken, now burst forth and roll over her cheeks.
"Thank you, thank you!" she replied: "I know that your promise will not be forgotten, and therefore I shall never mention the subject to you again, but rely in all confidence upon your word:" and so saying, she led the way back towards the château.