A Wife's Duty Part 21

"Yes: but I fear that he will not get quit of her so soon."

My only answer to this unwelcome truth was a deep sigh; and for some minutes I was unable to speak, while De Walden anxiously walked up and down the room.

"Perhaps you would go and see Pendarves?"

"No: excuse me: an interview between me and him must be painful, and could not be beneficial. The letter I had from him to inform me of a certain mournful event was cold; and though I answered it kindly,--for I thought of you when I wrote,--I was convinced that the less we met again the better."

"Then what can you do?"

"I know not--I could not save my friend, you know."

"If money can do it, I possess the means."

"And so do I; but Robespierre is inaccessible to bribes, and so I have found his creatures. I fear that I must seek Madame Beauvais herself."

"But she probably hates you?"

"True: but she does not hate Pendarves; and if I convince her that her only chance of liberating him is by seeming to have ceased to love him, the business may be done."

"And must he owe his liberty, and perhaps his life, to her? But be it so, if he can be preserved no other way--in that case I would even be a suitor to her myself."

"That I could not bear. But oh! dear inconsiderate friend, why did you come hither?"

"Because I thought it my duty."

"And do you still think so?"

I was silent.

"Answer me: candid and generous Helen: do you not now see that it was more your duty to stay in your own safe country, protected by respectable friends, than to come hither courting danger, and the worst of dangers to a virtuous wife? Believe me, the pa.s.sive virtue of painful but quiet endurance of injury was the virtue for you to practise. This quixotic daring looked like duty; but was not duty, Helen, and could only end in disappointment: for tell me, have you not found that you have thus suffered and thus dared for an ingrate?"

My silence answered the question.

"Enough!" resumed De Walden; "and I feel that I have been cruel; but mine has been the reproof of friendship, wrung from me by the indignant agony of knowing that even I cannot perhaps protect you from the insults which I dread. Oh! why did they let you come hither? I am sure your mind was not itself when you thought of it."

"You are right. The idea had taken hold of my imagination then unnaturally raised, and come I would. But my physician approved my coming; for he thought it safer for me, and thought, if I was not indulged, that my reason, if not my life, might suffer."

This statement completely overset De Walden's self-command; he blamed himself for what he had said--accused himself of cruelty--extolled the patient sweetness with which I had heard him, and had condescended to justify myself. Then, striking his forehead, he exclaimed, "And I, alas!

am powerless to save a being like this! But save her, THOU," he added, lifting his clasped hands to heaven.

The hour of my appointment at the prison now arrived again, and De Walden accompanied me thither. I did not see Benoit; but I was admitted directly, and my conductor, opening the door, said, "A female citizen desires to see you."

"Indeed!" said Pendarves in a tone of joy; but he started, and looked disappointed, when he saw me.

"Is it you, Helen?" said he.

"Did you expect it was any one else?"

"Not much," he replied, evidently disconcerted; "not much. It is only a primitive old-fashioned wife like yourself who would follow an unworthy husband to a prison."

"And to a scaffold, if necessary," cried I with energy.

"Helen!" said Pendarves in a deep but caustic tone, "spare me! spare me!

This excess of goodness--"

I smiled; but I believe my smile was as bitter as his accents.

What meetings were these between persons circ.u.mstanced as we once were and were now! But it could not be otherwise, and all I now suffered I had brought upon myself. In order to change the tone of our feelings, I told him De Walden had breakfasted with me, and then asked him if he would not like to see Juan.

He said "Yes," but carelessly, and then added, "So De Walden has been with you?" and fell into a mournful reverie till our uncomfortable interview was over.

I promised to send him by Juan all he wanted and desired, of linen, clothes, and food; for Benoit had a.s.sured me he would allow him to receive any thing for the sake of his good wife. He thanked me, shook my hand kindly, and saw me depart, as I thought with pleasure.

I found De Walden waiting for me with Juan. The latter by my desire asked for Benoit, and begged to know of him at what hour that day or evening he might be admitted to his master. Accordingly he went, carrying with him the articles I mentioned. He was gone some time; and anxious indeed was I for his return.

"I have seen her," said he.

"Seen whom?"

"That vile woman."

"Was she with him?" cried I, turning very faint.

"No, no: let the good Benoit alone for that. She desired to see the Citoyen Pendarves, her husband;" on which Benoit scornfully answered, "One wife is enough for any man: I allow him to see one of his every day, but no more; so go away, and do not return again."

"What!" exclaimed the creature, in great agitation, "is she, is Helen Pendarves in Paris?"

"Yes; _she_, the _true_ she,--the good wife is here; and _she_ alone will Benoit admit to his prisoner. _Va-t en, te dis-je!_"

"And the creature went away," added Juan; "for I saw and heard it all, giving him such a look!"

I could not help being pleased with this account; but I sent him immediately to tell De Walden what had pa.s.sed, that he might lose no time in seeking La Beauvais, to prevent her going to the prison, and thereby increasing the danger of Pendarves.--When Juan returned, I asked for a minute detail of all that pa.s.sed between my husband and him.

"Oh! he is very wretched!" he replied: "but he told me nothing concerning himself; he only walked up and down the narrow room, asking me nothing but about you, and why they let you come, and if De Walden came on purpose to guard you. In short, we talked of nothing else; and then he did so wish you safe back in your own country!"

This account gave me sincere pleasure, and made me believe that Seymour's heart was not so much alienated from me as I expected; and a weight seemed suddenly taken from my mind. The next day I went again at noon, and I found La Beauvais in high dispute with Benoit. As soon as he saw me, he saw that I recognised her, and that my countenance bore the hue of death, he caught my hand, saying, "_Vite! vite! entre donc:_ BELLE _et_ BONNE! _et toi, va-t en tout de suite!_"[18]

[Footnote 18: Quick! quick! enter: fair and good! but you, go away directly!]

La Beauvais, provoked and disappointed, seized my arm. "Madame Pendarves," she cried, "the same interest brings us. .h.i.ther: use your influence over this barbarian to procure me admittance."

"The same interest!" I replied, turning round, throwing her hand from my arm, and looking at her with all the scorn and abhorrence which I felt: "_Madame, je ne vous connois pas._"[19]

[Footnote 19: Madam! I do not know you.]

"It is well," she said. "Depend on it, I shall refresh your memory; and soon too. I will be revenged, though my own heart bleeds for it."

She then hastened away; and I, feeling the rash folly I had committed, and fearing I had irreparably injured my husband's cause, was forced to let the kind jailor conduct me to his own apartment, in order that I might recover myself before I went to Pendarves. I found him more cheerful, and also more affectionate in his manner towards me. He had been reading a letter, which he hastily put into his pocket; yet not so soon but that my quick eye discovered in the address the hand of La Beauvais. It was this renewal of intercourse, then, that had made him cheerful! But why then was he more affectionate to me? I have since resolved that question to my satisfaction.