San-Cravate; or, The Messengers; Little Streams Part 129

"And you have been to see her often of late?"

"Why not? if I can comfort her or gratify her by listening to her confidences. If you were unhappy, wouldn't you be very glad to have a true friend come to see you and try to console you?"

"Oh! when I am unhappy, I keep it to myself, and don't go and tell other people about it."

"Women are not like men, my dear; when they have troubles--love troubles, especially--they love to pour out their hearts on a friend's breast."

"Yes, women are very fond of having secrets between themselves, of being mysterious with us."

"Oh, dear! there you go again, with your evil thoughts! Is it because I have been to see Juliette that you are so cross?"

"Cross? I am not cross!"

"As if I didn't know you! as if I couldn't read in your eyes! You promised me absolute confidence."

"It seems to me that I am proving my confidence in you at this moment."

"By making wry faces because you didn't find me when you came this morning! Come, my friend, let us reason a little; you should be logical: if I don't love you, what reason have I for pretending to, for feigning sentiments which I do not feel--for deceiving you, in a word?

Come--answer me!"

Instead of answering, Adhemar rose and paced the floor, sat down at the piano, ran his fingers over the keys, began waltzes, polkas, and mazurkas; then ran to Nathalie and kissed her, saying:

"Forgive me, dear girl; I slept badly last night; I have a little headache; that is why you found me so sulky."

Nathalie pretended to believe him, and harmony was reestablished, in appearance at least; for in the bottom of his heart Adhemar was tormented by doubt; he thought of those frequent goings-out in the morning, ostensibly to see Juliette, and said to himself:

"She used not to go out so often--or, if she did, she told me herself when she intended to go."

Several days pa.s.sed; Adhemar constantly changed the hour of his visits; but Madame Dermont was always at home, and he began to feel a little more at ease. But, impelled by that jealousy which in him was the inevitable concomitant of genuine love, it happened more than once that, after he had left Nathalie, he prowled about the street a long while, or stood under a neighboring porte cochere, to see if she did not go out; but he had his trouble for his pains, to his great contentment.

One morning, about nine o'clock, it occurred to him to go and walk through the street where Madame Dermont lived.

"I won't go up to her rooms," he said to himself, "for she's not an early riser, and I might disturb her in her sleep; but I may see her servant come out, and I can give her the bouquet I am going to buy for her mistress. Nathalie will find it by her side when she wakes, and she'll surmise from whom it comes."

He dressed hurriedly, and bought a lovely bouquet on Pa.s.sage Verdeau.

Then he walked to Rue de Paradis-Poissonniere, to Madame Dermont's house, looked up at the windows, where all the curtains were still drawn, and strolled along the street, after looking at his watch: it was half-past nine. That was too early for a call on Nathalie, but he hoped that the servant would come out.

Ten minutes pa.s.sed, and Madame Dermont's servant did not appear. Adhemar was tired of pacing the street with his flowers in his hand, and had almost concluded to go up, thinking that he could ring very softly, to avoid waking her, when he saw a cab coming rapidly toward him. It slackened its pace as it approached Madame Dermont's house. Adhemar, without pausing to weigh his reasons for so doing, stepped aside; something told him that he was interested in that cab, and he determined to see who alighted from it.

It stopped in front of Nathalie's door; a young woman alighted, paid the driver, and hurried into the house. But Adhemar had recognized her; he could not be mistaken; he had seen her features, he had recognized her dress, and the hat she wore when she went out in the morning: it was she, it was Nathalie! For an instant Adhemar thought of running after her and shouting:

"Where have you been?"

But he reflected that she might lie to him again; and a better plan occurred to him. The cab was still there, the driver preparing to return to his box. Adhemar opened the door, jumped in, and, taking ten francs from his pocket, placed them in the cabman's hand as he asked him where he wished to go.

The man was amazed at sight of the ten francs which his new pa.s.senger gave him even before hiring him.

"Oh! it's to be a long trip, eh? You want to go into the country, I take it, bourgeois?"

"The ten francs are to pay you for answering my questions briefly: a lady has just got out of your cab?"

"Yes, bourgeois; a pretty little lady--good style. I know what I'm talking about."

"Where did you take her from?"

"Where did I take her from? why, from here, bourgeois, about an hour and a quarter ago; it wasn't quite a half, but the little woman pays generous, without haggling."

"She took you by the hour, then, when she started?"

"Just so."

"Where did you go with her? Now, don't lie to me!"

"You pay too well for me to lie to you! Besides, there's no mystery about it; I took her to the Jardin des Plantes."

"To the Jardin des Plantes?"

"Yes, bourgeois; in front of the gate, on the water side. She got out there and told me to wait, and then she went into the garden."

"Alone?"

"Yes, yes, alone when she went in; but when she came out, after a quarter of an hour or more, she wasn't alone then."

"Who was with her?"

"A gentleman--a young man."

"A young man? What was he like--his dress--his features?"

"Oh! excuse me! but you don't suppose I took his photograph, do you? He was dressed, like everybody else, in a frock-coat. I thought he was rather a good-looking fellow. That's all I can tell you."

"And this man--this gentleman--this frock-coat--he came out with the lady, you say? Did she have his arm?"

"Oh! as to that, I can't say; I was on my box, and I didn't see them till they were close to my cab, and the young man helped the lady in."

"And got in with her?"

"No, no; he didn't get in--he said good-bye."

"How did he say it? Did he embrace her?--did he kiss her hand?"

"Oh! bless your heart! I was straightening out my reins, and I didn't see them embrace. The lady called out to me: 'Take me back to where you brought me from!'--The young man shut the door and went off--but, yes, I remember now that he said to her, as he went away: 'Thank you, thank you a thousand times for coming!'--Now, where'll you go, bourgeois?"

"To the Jardin des Plantes, to the same spot where that lady got out."

Adhemar's brain was on fire, his heart beat violently; he pressed his hands against his brow, saying to himself:

"It is absolutely certain now--she too deceives me--and she dared to tell me that she loved me! Ah! we don't deceive those whom we love! It is all over--yes, all over, this time! I won't see her again, for she would tell me another lie; she would invent some fable to make me believe that she is innocent! And perhaps I should be idiot enough to believe her. But, no, I do not propose to be her dupe again; I will see her no more. But that man with whom she makes a.s.signations so early in the day--ah! if I could find out who he is, I would kill him! And yet, he is not the guilty one, for he loves her. But not as I loved her--oh, no!"