The Bath Keepers Volume Ii Part 16

Ambroisine waited anxiously for what was to follow; and all the other witnesses of the scene seemed to share her anxiety.

After a brief interval, Leodgard, who had turned his head away to avoid Bathilde's glance, said, trying to give an ironical accent to his voice:

"Really, monsieur le marquis, I did not expect to be haled thus before a court of honor, for an act in which, I must confess, I had not detected so many crimes, so many terrible disasters!--From the way in which you reprove what is, after all, only a peccadillo, a youthful escapade, one would think that I had done something that no gentleman had ever dared to do before! By Notre-Dame! he who thinks that has but little acquaintance with our young n.o.blemen of to-day! There is not one of them who has not been guilty of five or six offences of the sort for which you reproach me!--But, far from blushing and repenting of them, they, one and all, pride themselves thereon! And since when has it been forbidden to us young men of the court to make love to the _pet.i.tes bourgeoises_, to the young girls of the lower orders? After all, if they wish to remain virtuous, it is their business not to listen to us! But, instead of that, they incite our advances by their glances, their allurements! They would be sorely disappointed if we did not try to seduce them!"

Landry uttered a sort of hollow growl which presaged a storm on the point of bursting. Bathilde hid her face in her hands, and Ambroisine squeezed her father's arm, murmuring:

"How horrible! how shameful!--Oh, no! she did none of that!"

But the old marquis rose and interrupted Leodgard, exclaiming in a voice of thunder:

"Enough, monsieur, enough! your defence is simply an additional insult to the woman you have outraged!--We know that there are women who invite seduction, who even provoke it; they do not deserve our pity! But do you dare to place this unhappy creature here among those girls who have neither modesty nor morals?--In that case, why did you need, in order to seduce her, to employ the most sacred oaths, to write her that you would take her for your wife?"

"I!--write such things to her!"

"See, here is your letter; do you deny your own signature?"

And the marquis handed his son the letter which he had written to Bathilde long before, and which he had long ago forgotten.

When he recognized his own handwriting, Leodgard was confounded.

A ray of joy gleamed in Ambroisine's eyes. As for Landry, a sudden change transformed his features; they lost in an instant all their severity, and turning his eyes upon his daughter the old soldier gazed at her, no longer in anger, but in sorrow. Pity had found its way into his heart, and it was easy to see that pardon was not far behind.

But Leodgard was not long in recovering from that first moment of surprise.

"After all, seigneur," he demanded, with an impatient gesture, "what is your purpose? For heaven's sake, let us put an end to this scene! Why did you summon me here?"

"That you might restore the honor of this girl, whom you have made a mother; and to do that, you must marry her, give her your name."

Leodgard stared at his father as if he doubted his ears; it was the same with all those present, except the two n.o.blemen seated with the marquis.

"If you consent to this union, Leodgard," continued the latter, "I will this very day convey to Bathilde Landry this house and the revenue of two other houses which I own in Paris; moreover, I will settle my entire fortune, after my death, on the child that is soon to be born. I myself will retire to my estate of Champfleury, and end my life there; life in the city is no longer congenial to my years or my tastes. If you refuse to take Bathilde for your wife, then, monsieur, there is another satisfaction which her father has the right to expect; I read in his eyes that he is burning to demand it, and I cannot blame him!--Choose, therefore, Bathilde's hand, or a duel with her father."

"My choice cannot be doubted!" cried Leodgard. "The Comte de Marvejols will not marry a bath keeper's daughter! And if the bath keeper desires to measure swords with me, I am willing to consent to do him that honor."

A low groan was heard from the direction of the two girls, while Landry, proudly twisting his moustache, said calmly:

"Monsieur le comte, King Henri IV tapped me on the shoulder and called me his _brave_! I do not think that you will dishonor yourself by measuring your sword with my rapier!"

"And so," rejoined the marquis, with a grief-stricken glance at his son, "you expect, by shedding her father's blood, to efface the shame with which you have sullied this maid's honor! Let it be as you choose, monsieur! Henceforth G.o.d will attend to your punishment.--But be not alarmed, my poor girl, poor mother, whom your seducer spurns; whatever the result of the combat about to take place, I will henceforth take care of you as if you were my own child.--And you, Landry, you, her father--now that you see her grief, her suffering, her repentance, you will forgive her for her sin; yes, you will forgive her--I see it in your eyes; and then you will thank this other maid, her friend, of whose devotion you are not as yet aware.--Come forward, Ambroisine, and receive the praise which you deserve; let your father hear it; let us bring joy to one heart at least!"

Master Hugonnet, flushing crimson with pleasure, gently pushed Ambroisine forward; she walked a few steps, being in dire embarra.s.sment, and said, lowering her eyes:

"Monsieur le marquis is too kind; what I have done was quite natural--I should have been so happy to find that Monsieur le Comte Leodgard still loved Bathilde!--And so, before making up my mind to tell the whole story to monsieur le marquis, I went many times to the house in Rue de Bretonvilliers, to try to speak with monsieur le comte; and yet I confess that I was a little afraid when I went to that quarter alone at night. And then, as they always told me that Monsieur Leodgard was not in, I sometimes pa.s.sed a great part of the night waiting for his return; and once--oh! I was so frightened--I had such a horrible experience!--But I beg pardon, monseigneur; that cannot interest you--excuse me."

Within a few seconds, Leodgard's face, as he listened to Ambroisine, had become deathly pale, and great drops of sweat stood on his brow; but he remained motionless in his place and affected to make light of what she said.

The old marquis motioned to Ambroisine as she was about to turn away, saying:

"Go on, my child; what happened to you in your friend's service cannot fail to interest us. What was this experience?"

"Mon Dieu! monsieur le marquis--excuse me--it was like a ghost.--This is how it happened. I was waiting for monsieur le comte to return; the clock had struck twelve; as I did not know what to do to kill time, instead of standing still in front of the gate, I walked now and then along the walls on one side or the other--for the hotel stands entirely by itself. That night, as I stopped at the end of the wall, behind the hotel, a man suddenly appeared; I had neither heard nor seen him; it was as if he came out of the wall.--But imagine my terror; by his hairy cap and his olive-green cloak, I had no doubt that it was Giovanni the brigand, whom I had heard described so often; and then----"

"It is all over! I will atone for everything!" cried Leodgard in a hoa.r.s.e voice, roughly pushing Ambroisine aside, to approach Bathilde.

"Monsieur le marquis, I surrender, I consent, I will marry Bathilde; I am ready to lead her to the altar!"

It would be impossible to describe the effect of these words, which everyone was so far from expecting.

The keenest delight was depicted on every face. Bathilde uttered a cry of joy. Landry went to his daughter and took her in his arms. Ambroisine and her father were in ecstasies.

The old Marquis de Marvejols offered his son his hand as a sign of reconciliation.

And no one thought to ask for the end of the adventure which the _belle baigneuse_ had begun to narrate.

x.x.xVI

A STRANGE CHOICE

One beautiful day in spring, Valentine de Mongarcin sat in the salon where her aunt Madame de Ravenelle preferred to pa.s.s her time, amusing herself by picking out chords on her zither and singing the words of a new virelay.

Madame de Ravenelle, reclining on an immense couch, listened to her niece, keeping time gently with her head, and smiling with the contented expression of a person whose digestion is good and who has no cares.

The fair Valentine was a long way from displaying a countenance as placid as her aunt's; her brow often contracted; her mouth expressed melancholy rather than pleasure, and her eyes, which she turned constantly from side to side, indicated that her mind was deeply preoccupied.

"Well! go on, Valentine; why have you stopped singing?" inquired the old lady.

"What do you say, aunt? was I singing?"

"Well! this is charming! do you mean that you did not know it? that you sang without being aware of it?"

"I a.s.sure you, aunt, that I was not thinking of music at all!"

"Is it possible? However, you have been so distraught, so pensive, for some time past, that if I did not know you, I should really believe that you had some pa.s.sion in your heart!--But I am not at all alarmed in that direction; I know that you love no one!"

"That is true, aunt: I have no love for anyone."

"Still, you will have to decide some day. You do not lack suitors, at all events; there are more than ten gentlemen, rich and of n.o.ble birth, who seek your hand. I say to them all: 'Wait, be patient; she will come to it.'"

Valentine made no reply. But, a few minutes later, she asked:

"Did you hear anything last evening, aunt, at Madame de Brissac's reception, of a very--a very extraordinary occurrence?"

"No, niece, no; and I prefer not to. Extraordinary events sometimes cause keen emotion, and I dislike anything that disturbs my delightfully quiet life."

"Well, I heard two young gentlemen talking within a few feet of me--not so low that I could not hear their words. One of them said: 'Yes, my friend, Leodgard de Marvejols is married.'--'That is impossible,' the other replied; 'why should his marriage be kept secret?'--The first one answered; but just then he and his friend walked away, so that I could learn nothing more."