Paul and His Dog Volume Ii Part 66

"My heart has no hatred," she murmured; "it has nothing but regret.--So that cross in the ravine--that is the place.--Ah! that explains the inexplicable emotion that I felt. Poor father!--Oh! my dear, come, come quickly! You know where, don't you?"

In a very few minutes, the two young women were ready to go out. Agathe went into the garden and gathered a bunch of flowers; then, with the bouquet in her hand, she took Honorine's arm and they walked hastily, in silence and meditation, toward the ravine near the park of the Tower.

They reached the cross erected in that solitary place. Agathe knelt in front of it and prayed a long while; then, as she laid her nosegay on the grave, she spied, at the foot of the cross, some faded flowers, the remains of other bouquets laid there before her own. She picked up some of those flowers and placed them in her bosom. Then, leaning on Honorine's arm, she took, more slowly now, the road leading back to Ch.e.l.les.

The two friends had returned from that pious pilgrimage when Paul, Edmond and Freluchon made their appearance. Edmond ran forward and kissed the girl's hands, crying:

"I know all! I am very happy in your happiness!"

Paul remained in the background; he dared not go forward. But Agathe went to meet him. He bent his knee before her; whereupon she held out the flowers she had taken from her father's grave and said:

"These have told me that you too mourn for him; is it not equivalent to telling me to forgive you?"

The time pa.s.ses very quickly with those who love one another, and who are engaged in forming the most delicious plans of happiness for the future.

Freluchon pa.s.sed his time caressing the n.o.ble dog, of whom he too had made a friend.

For one moment, however, Agathe's felicity was disturbed; it was when a chance remark informed her that Madame de Belleville was the very woman who had caused her father's death.

The color fled from her cheeks and she murmured:

"Ah! now I understand the feeling of repulsion that that woman aroused in me. You won't go to her house any more, Edmond, will you?"

"I will not, indeed; I give you my word, dear Agathe; and if I had known this distressing story sooner, I certainly would not have gone to her party last night."

"Nor would I," said Freluchon.

"And nothing unpleasant happened to you there?"

The three men exchanged rapid glances, and Edmond replied:

"What could have happened to us?"

"Mon Dieu! I don't know--but I was terribly depressed last night, knowing that you were there."

"A single word from you, and I would not have gone!"

"But I should not have dared to say it."

"That is a pity!" thought Freluchon.

While the hours seemed so short in Honorine's modest abode, the wealthy proprietress of Goldfish Villa waited impatiently, with her eyes fastened on a clock, for the moment when she was to meet her brother.

At last the clock struck six, and Thelenie, hastening across the garden and the little park, opened a gate leading into a lonely path, where she had arranged to meet Croque.

She soon saw approaching her a man in a canvas jacket and full duck trousers, with his face half-hidden by a sort of coal-burner's hat, and blackened and reddened in spots. But she recognized Croque by the scar on his cheek.

"This is excellent; you are unrecognizable," said Thelenie; "besides, there is no one hereabout who knows you very well. But how did you manage to obtain these clothes?"

"Parbleu! with plenty of blunt you can get whatever you want; the peasants are as fond of money as city folk! I should say, more so."

"Tell me what you have done."

"I easily found the widow Tourniquoi's house; and there I recognized the Jacqueline I saw yesterday; the little boy was playing in the yard."

"Well?"

"I presented myself in my best clothes; a fine outside inspires more confidence."

"You did well."

"And yet, when I told that woman that I came from the Baronne de Mortagne, who wanted her to bring her son to her, she wouldn't believe me; she was suspicious. But the three hundred francs in gold soon scattered all her doubts. When I told her further that the baroness would pay her in full for all the time she had kept the child, and that at three hundred and sixty francs a year for eight years she'd get near three thousand francs--Gad! then it was not joy, it was delirium!--I told her that she must go to Dieppe right away with young Emile. She would have started for China to get her three thousand francs! I gave her the address that you gave me, and she began to pack up at once."

"When does she start?"

"To-night, on the eight o'clock train. She goes to Paris, and from there to Dieppe at the double quick; she'll be there to-morrow."

"That is good--very good! Now my mind is at rest in that direction."

"It seems to me that I managed the affair rather well."

"Yes; but there's another affair, which you must manage as well."

"Tell us about it; while my hand is in, it won't cost any more!"

"Monsieur Luminot and Edmond are to fight at eight o'clock to-morrow morning."

"Ah! the famous duel is to come off! Well?"

"It is to be in a little wood, some distance from here, at the other side of the village. I am confident that Edmond will not have mentioned the duel to the two women at the little house yonder."

"Probably not; he wouldn't want to frighten them."

"Now listen: can you swim?"

"Like a gudgeon. Why?"

"To-morrow morning, at eight o'clock--or a little before eight--you will be on the sh.o.r.e of the Marne, near the bridge that crosses to Gournay."

"I know the place, for I have gone in that direction on my promenades."

"Then you know how deserted that neighborhood is. One often walks there a whole day without meeting a living soul."

"Well? let us come to the point!"

"You will have a small boat in readiness; you say yourself that with money one can obtain whatever one wants."

"You give me money enough and I will have a boat; that doesn't embarra.s.s me."