The Bath Keepers Volume Ii Part 12

"Why, no; you don't let me finish. I said that to show you that I know the locality. There is also a certain _pecheur-rotisseur_, who serves stewed rabbit and fried fish. We shall be very comfortable there, and we can regale ourselves at our ease."

"So be it! let us go there; lead the way."

"Try not to waver so on your legs."

"Isn't he delicious!--when it is he who stumbles at every step."

The two clerks, each supporting the other, and sometimes describing zigzags which terrified the pa.s.sers-by, set out for Le Roule, which was then only a village, although destined to become one of the great faubourgs of Paris.

x.x.xIV

A BOLD STEP

Since Bathilde had learned the result of Ambroisine's visit to Leodgard, since she had learned in what way he had treated the person who went to implore him in her behalf, a profound melancholy, a gloomy resignation, had succeeded the impatience, the anxiety, the hope, which had divided the empire of her mind at first.

It has often been said, and justly, that anxiety is worse than misfortune itself.

Bathilde, when she found that she had nothing to hope from Leodgard save contempt and disdain, turned all her thoughts upon the child to which she was to give life. It was for it that she resolved to live; it was for it that she derived courage and resignation from the very excess of her suffering.

But one thought still tormented the poor child: she was afraid that her presence was a burden, not to Ambroisine, but to her father; she was afraid that her prolonged sojourn in Master Hugonnet's house was an embarra.s.sment, an inconvenience, which, from kindness of heart, he was careful to conceal from her.

But in her plight, without money or resources of any sort, whither should she go if Ambroisine's father sent her away?

Bathilde was wrong to conceive such fears; Master Hugonnet did not do good for ostentation's sake; he simply followed the biddings of his heart, and he was happy himself when he could render a service; it never occurred to him to plume himself upon it. The thought of sending the poor girl away who had come to him for shelter would never have entered his mind, and it was not necessary that she should be Ambroisine's friend to induce him to be kind and charitable toward her; kind hearts do not require to be stimulated; they who need a great number of witnesses in order to do a good deed are not truly generous.

But Ambroisine read her friend's heart; she divined her thoughts, her anxieties, her fears; she did her utmost to banish them, impressing upon Bathilde that her presence, far from being the slightest embarra.s.sment, was very advantageous to them; that by her skill with her needle she a.s.sisted them materially; that her company made her, Ambroisine's, retreat delightful; and that, in fine, it was to Bathilde that grat.i.tude was due.

Friendship is ingenious when it seeks to dissemble its kindly acts.

Bathilde smiled at her friend and pressed her hand; but tears fell from her eyes, despite her efforts.

"Weeping again!" said Ambroisine, one day. "You are not reasonable. You have no further reason to tremble for your child's future. Did I not tell you that the Sire de Jarnonville had promised to be a father to it?

And he will not break his word! I judged him rightly when I thought that beneath that savage, yes, terrifying manner, the Black Chevalier concealed a heart accessible to pity. How could he fail to be moved by the sufferings of others, he who had suffered so terribly himself in the loss of his child?--He has been here several times since the day that I met him in Rue de Bretonvilliers. He comes to me when I am alone, and asks in an undertone: 'How is your friend? Does she need anything? Do not forget that I propose to be a father to her child.'"

"A father!" rejoined Bathilde, bitterly. "What! Can it be that the child of Comte Leodgard de Marvejols needs that a stranger should be a father to it--when its own father exists?--Alas! I do what I can to be brave, Ambroisine. But, in spite of myself, I suffer when I think that shame is the only inheritance that I shall bequeath to my child."

On the day following this conversation, Ambroisine was alone in her father's shop, just at nightfall, when the Black Chevalier crossed the street, halted in front of her, and said in a curt tone which ill dissembled what was taking place in his heart:

"That poor girl--your friend--can I do anything for her yet?"

Ambroisine looked up at Jarnonville, and, as if struck by a sudden idea, cried:

"Pardon me, seigneur; you can a.s.sist me to restore her honor, perhaps.--For I see plainly that my poor Bathilde cannot console herself for the abandonment of her lover and the curses of her mother. Since yesterday an idea, a hope, has come into my mind. Heaven, doubtless, suggested it to me.--Sire de Jarnonville, Comte Leodgard's father is still living, is he not?"

"To be sure--the Marquis de Marvejols."

"What sort of man is he?"

"The old Seigneur de Marvejols is an upright, just man, who is sensitive to the last degree in the matter of honor. Proud of the name that his ancestors have handed down to him, he is no less proud of having no unjust act for which to reproach himself in the whole course of his life. Stern in his speech, he has nevertheless a sensitive and generous heart; the evil-minded may tremble before him; the unfortunate never."

"What you tell me, seigneur, confirms me in my plan."

"What is it?"

"To go to Comte Leodgard's father, to lay before him the whole story of his son's behavior toward Bathilde, and the events that have resulted from it, and to demand justice for the victim of a shameful seduction."

And seeing that Jarnonville kept silence, Ambroisine continued:

"Do you disapprove of my project, seigneur chevalier? What have I to fear, after all? My poor Bathilde cannot possibly be more unhappy! Her seducer cannot treat her any more cruelly!--Yes! I am determined to attempt this method of restoring my friend's honor! This old marquis, who is such a just man, will perhaps insist upon his son's keeping the promises, the oaths, he made to Bathilde."

"But how will you prove to Leodgard's father that his son did really make your friend a solemn promise! He will tell you that all men who seek to seduce a woman use the same language, and that it is her place not to listen to words whose value she should know."

"How will I prove it! Oh! luckily enough, I have kept a letter written to Bathilde by the count when he had not succeeded in his projects. It is the first and, I believe, the only letter he ever wrote to her. The poor child gave it to me at the time, to be rid of the temptation to read it all day long. For the eloquent oaths of love which it contained were beginning even then to turn her head. Writing is something more than mere words."

"Yes, you are right; and if you have that letter----"

"I have always kept it carefully; something told me that it might be of use to Bathilde some day; she thinks, no doubt, that I burned it long ago."

"In that case, carry out your plan. But I do not see in what way I can be of use to you in all this, and why you claim my a.s.sistance?"

"To help me to gain access to the old Seigneur de Marvejols--that is why I appealed to you."

"Do you know where the Hotel de Marvejols is?"

"Yes, chevalier; it is on Place Royale. I went there once, expecting to find Monsieur Leodgard there."

"Well! go there now; ask for monsieur le marquis; say that it is a poor girl who desires to speak with him, to obtain justice, and you will speedily be admitted to the old n.o.bleman's presence. To obtain access to the upright man who reckons duty superior to birth and fortune, one needs no influence; it is enough to be oppressed and to claim his support. Therefore, a sponsor would be of no use to you; on the contrary, it would offend the old marquis, by showing him that you confounded him with those powerful men who are insensible to the laments of the unfortunate."

"Oh! thanks, Sire de Jarnonville, thanks! To-morrow I will go to the Hotel de Marvejols."

"Does your friend know of your plan?"

"No, indeed! I should not think of mentioning it to her. In the first place, I am sure that she would forbid me to go to her seducer's father; she would be afraid of drawing upon herself that _honorable_ young man's wrath; but he was not ashamed, by presuming upon a poor girl's innocence, to look on while she was cursed and cast out by her parents!--Oh, no! Bathilde shall know nothing about it, seigneur chevalier! If I fail in my undertaking, at all events she will not have this fresh humiliation to add to her grief; if the old marquis listens to me kindly, then it will be time enough to give her heart a little hope."

"Go, brave girl, and may you succeed in your n.o.ble purpose!"

The next day, about noon, Leodgard's father was alone in his study. The old n.o.bleman's countenance had seemed sterner than ever of late, because it had become more melancholy.

The desertion of his son, who had entirely ceased to visit the old Hotel de Marvejols, was the probable cause of the grief which the marquis concealed beneath a prouder and more gloomy expression. But upon that n.o.ble brow, furrowed by age, there was something else than sternness to be read.

The marquis was seated in his great easy-chair; a book lay open before him on a table; but he was not reading; his head was resting on his hand, and he seemed absorbed in profound meditation. From time to time he glanced at certain papers that lay scattered over the table, and murmured:

"All his debts are paid; he has contracted no others; and yet he pa.s.ses his time in fetes, in orgies, entertaining his friends and their mistresses. The most princely magnificence reigns in that house that he occupies in Rue de Bretonvilliers! Where, in heaven's name, does he obtain this money which he seems to squander so lavishly? Doubtless chance has become favorable to him, but chance cannot be always on one side; and not long ago he lost quite a large sum at the Duc de Soubiran's. Where does he find enough money to meet his insane expenditures? Can it be true, as rumor has it, that some foreign courtesan has given him immense wealth in exchange for his love; and that Leodgard has agreed to that shameful bargain?--Ah! I do not propose to seek any further to learn the source of his fortune; for something tells me that the discovery of that secret would bring the flush of shame to my brow!--And his marriage to Mademoiselle de Mongarcin--I must think no more of that; it will never take place. That n.o.bly born heiress would refuse now to marry a man whose conduct is a constant scandal.--Ah! Leodgard did thoroughly everything that was necessary to prevent that union from being arranged!"

The old man had relapsed into meditation, when the door of his study opened, and old Hector discreetly showed his face before the rest of his body.