Le Cocu Part 43

I contented myself with shaking his hand; a little convulsively, no doubt, for he withdrew his, saying:

"I am deeply touched by the pleasure which it gives you."

At last he appeared! he entered the salon and looked about; I divined whom he was looking for. He came toward me. Good! he knew nothing! He had the a.s.surance to inquire for my wife's health, and why she had not come. I restrained myself, I said a few vague words in reply, and I walked away from him.

I waited until he took his place at the ecarte table, which he did at last. I bet against him. At the second deal, when we lost two points, I declared that our adversary had not cut the cards; I spoke as if I thought the cards had been stacked. The others looked at one another in amazement, and said nothing. Monsieur Dulac became thoughtful and distraught; he proposed to throw the hand out, but I refused.

We lost. I instantly took the vacant seat. I trebled my stake, so that the bettors should not bet on me; then I held my cards so that n.o.body could see them. I discarded my aces in order to lose. I demanded my revenge, and although it is customary to leave the table when one loses, I did not rise, and I doubled my stake again, indulging in more epigrams on my adversary's good luck.

Monsieur Dulac showed great patience; he seemed ill at ease, but he said nothing. I lost again; I a.s.sumed the air of a determined gambler and increased my stake again. Again I lost; thereupon I rose and threw my cards in my adversary's face.

It was impossible to take that peacefully. Dulac rose in his turn and asked me if I had intended to insult him. I laughed in his face and made no reply. Others tried to adjust the affair by representing to him that I was a bad loser and that my losses had irritated me. I saw plainly that everybody thought me in the wrong. Dulac said nothing, nor did I. I had done enough in public amply to explain a subsequent duel.

After a few moments I walked up to Dulac and said to him in an undertone:

"I shall await you to-morrow, at seven o'clock, with a friend, at the entrance to the forest of Vincennes; do not fail to be there, and be sure that this affair cannot be adjusted."

He bowed in a.s.sent; I walked about the salon once or twice, then disappeared.

I required a second; my choice was already made; our real friends are never so numerous as to cause us embarra.s.sment.

I went to see Ernest at his new home. They had gone out, they were at the theatre with their children. But they kept a servant now. I decided to wait for them, for I felt that I must see Ernest that evening.

The certainty of vengeance near at hand, or of an end of my troubles, calmed my pa.s.sions a little. I reflected on my situation. I was going to fight. If I killed my opponent, that would not give me back my happiness. If he killed me, my children would be delivered over to the tender mercies of a mother who did not love them; so that even that duel could not have a satisfactory result. Was it really necessary? Yes, because I abhorred Dulac now. And yet he had only played the part of a young man, he had done only what I myself had done when I had been a bachelor. My wife was much the guiltier, and her I could not punish.

I had nothing to write, in case I should be killed; for my children would inherit all my property. I prayed that they might always remain in ignorance of their mother's sin.

How much misery may result from an instant's weakness! If a woman could ever calculate it, would she be guilty? But did I myself calculate it before my marriage? No; we must have pa.s.sions and torments and excitement. A pure and tranquil happiness would bore us, and yet there are some people who know that happiness; there are privileged beings; and there are some too who have no pa.s.sions, who love as they eat, or drink, or sleep. Having no knowledge of veritable love, they do not suffer its torments; perhaps they are the happier for it.

After five years and a few months of married life, and a love marriage, too! She seemed to love me so dearly! was it not real love at that time?

If not, what constrained her to tell me so and to marry me? Her mother did only as she wished. The woman who is forced to give her hand to a man whom she does not love is much less guilty when she betrays her faith. But to manifest so much love for me, and--But no, I must forget all that.

Ernest and his wife returned from the play, and were told that a gentleman was waiting for them in their salon. They came in and exclaimed in surprise when they saw me:

"Why, it is Blemont!"

"It is Monsieur Henri! How long it is since we have seen you! how do you happen to come so late?"

"I wanted to see you; I have a favor to ask of Ernest."

They both looked at me and both came toward me simultaneously.

"What's the matter, pray? What has happened to you?"

"How pale he is, and how distressed!"

"Nothing is the matter."

"Oh! yes, my friend, something is wrong; is your wife sick? or your children?"

"I no longer have a wife, I have no children with me; I am alone now."

"What do you say?" cried Marguerite; "your wife?"

"She has deceived me, betrayed me; she is no longer with me."

They did not say a word; they seemed thunderstruck. I rose and continued in a firmer voice:

"Yes, she has deceived me, that same Eugenie, whom I loved so dearly; you know how dearly, you who were the confidants of my love. It was only this morning that I obtained proofs of her perfidy. I am not used to suffering as yet; I shall get used to it perhaps; but I swear, I will do my utmost to forget a woman who is not worthy of me. I have been unfortunate in love; I shall at least find some relief in friendship."

Ernest and Marguerite threw themselves into my arms; Marguerite wept and Ernest pressed my hand affectionately. At last I released myself from their embrace.

"It is late, my friends; forgive me for coming thus to disturb your happiness. Good-night, my little neighbor.--Ernest, a word with you, please."

He followed me to a window.

"I am to fight to-morrow; you can guess with whom and for what reason. I need not tell you that there is no possible adjustment, although we are supposed to be fighting because of a dispute at cards. Will you be my second?"

"Yes, of course."

"I shall expect you to-morrow morning, promptly at seven o'clock."

"I will be on time."

Marguerite had gone into another room. She returned at that moment and said:

"Don't you wish to kiss our children before you go?"

At that suggestion, tears came to my eyes; for I reflected that I could not kiss my daughter before going to bed that night.

Marguerite evidently divined my thought.

"Oh! pray forgive me," she said; "I have pained you. Oh dear! I didn't mean to."

I pressed her hand, nodded to Ernest, and hurried from the room.

Once more I was compelled to return to that apartment. It was torture to me. How empty it seemed! and in fact it was empty; no wife, no child about me. It was not Eugenie whom my eyes sought; she had avoided and shunned my presence for a long while. It was my daughter, my little Henriette--she did not avoid me! What a miserable night I pa.s.sed! not a moment's sleep. I wondered if she who made me so unhappy was sleeping quietly.

At last the day came, and at six o'clock Ernest was at my house. I took my pistols; a cab was below, and I told the driver to go to Vincennes.

I did not say a word during the drive. Just as we arrived, Ernest said to me:

"If you should fall, my friend, have you nothing to say, no orders to give?"

"No, my dear Ernest, for except you and your wife, no one really cares for me. My son is not old enough to understand the loss he would sustain. My daughter--she would cry perhaps, and that is why nothing must be said to her. Poor child! I do not want to make her shed a tear."

We arrived, and I saw two men walking to and fro a few gun shots from the chateau; they were Dulac and his second. We hurried toward them and joined them; they bowed to us; I did not respond to the salute, but strode on toward the woods.

I did not know Dulac's second; he was not one of our circle; so much the better. I do not know what Dulac had said to him, but I am convinced that he was not deceived as to the motive which had caused me to pick a quarrel with him the night before.