The Bath Keepers Volume Ii Part 24

"What! deprive me of your company already! I will escort you to Rue Saint-Honore."

"I no longer live there; since Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin became Marquise de Santoval, we live on Rue Sainte-Avoie."

"Aha! so your lady is now Marquise de Santoval! And that is the reason why my vigils in front of the Hotel de Mongarcin have led to nothing!"

"Take my advice, monsieur le chevalier, and make no further attempt to see me."

"Ah! I am rich now, Miretta; I will cover you with fine pearls!"

"You might offer me all the treasures of the Indies, and I would still say to you: 'You are wasting your time; I do not love you; I shall never love you.'"

"Then it must be that mysterious Carvajal whom you love. But, by death!

if I ever meet him!"

"Ah, me! I would like right well to meet him!"

As she said these words, Miretta darted away so swiftly that she soon disappeared from the eyes of Pa.s.sedix, who pulled his cap over his forehead, muttering angrily:

"Mordioux! she defies me still. I must forget her! I must show my dignity! Let us get tipsy!"

Miretta hurried back to the Hotel de Santoval; she remembered how precipitately she had left the house, and she feared that her mistress would be displeased with her for absenting herself at a time when she required her services; so that Miretta was almost trembling when she returned to the house.

She had no sooner entered than a servant informed her that her mistress wished to see her.

Valentine was alone in her bedroom; her expression was not at all stern, but it denoted profound reflection.

When she saw Miretta, she motioned to her to lock all the doors with care, then beckoned her to a seat on a stool by her side.

Miretta walked toward her and began to falter some words of apology; but Valentine placed a finger on her lips and again pointed to the stool.

The girl seated herself, speechless with surprise, and waited anxiously to hear what her mistress could have to say to her that demanded so much mystery.

Valentine fastened her great velvety dark-gray eyes on those of her maid, who looked down at the floor; then she said to her, taking care to speak low:

"Miretta, swear that you will answer frankly the question I am about to ask you; swear that you will not lie to me!"

The girl looked up, glanced at her mistress, and, seeing nothing in her expression to indicate anger, answered:

"I swear, madame."

"That is well; now, listen to me. I have just discovered a secret of great importance to you, which we must not let anybody else discover! I know who your lover is--the man whom you love."

"You know, madame?"

"Yes, I tell you; and you are going to tell me if I am mistaken. The man whom you have not seen for so long a time, the man for whose sake you came to France, of whom you are constantly thinking, and who causes you so much anxiety--is Giovanni!"

"O madame! you think----"

"It is Giovanni! Contradict me if you dare!--Have no fear of me, Miretta; you should know me well. But remember your oath: the man you love is Giovanni, is he not? Answer--answer!"

Miretta fell on her knees before her mistress, clasping her hands, and murmured at last:

"Yes, madame, yes--it is Giovanni who is my lover.--Oh! forgive me!"

"Rise, rise, my child! Your frankness makes me more fond of you. Do you think, pray, that I asked you for your secret with the intention of reproaching you? You loved this Giovanni, doubtless, before he became a brigand?"

"Oh! yes, madame."

"And since you have known the trade he was plying, you have not ceased to love him!--I understand that. I understand all that love can lead one to do. Under the sway of that pa.s.sion, is it possible to reason, to reflect?--And then, this man must be very brave; the reputation he has made for himself, the very terror inseparable from his name--yes, there is something in all that which almost makes one forget his crimes."

"Oh! if you knew, madame, how earnestly I have begged, implored him to renounce his pursuit! And he promised to do it.--'Only a few months more,' he said, 'and we will return to Italy, and no one will recognize in me the dreaded bandit.'--But, alas! it is more than a year since he told me that, and I have not met him since."

"But he has not been arrested, as Joseph said.--Another servant, whom I sent out to make inquiries, has just returned and told me that they made a mistake, that the man who was arrested was not the famous robber."

"That is true, madame. Thank heaven, my fears were unfounded! Ah! if you knew what a feeling of despair took possession of me!"

"Do you think that I did not see it, poor girl? Do you think that I was not struck by your pallor, by your confusion, by that grief-stricken cry which you uttered, when Joseph said: 'Giovanni is arrested'?--It was that that revealed your secret to me. Luckily, the servants saw nothing but curiosity in your precipitate exit--nothing but the desire to see a man who spreads terror throughout Paris.--Now that you know that he is not arrested, you are calmer and happier. In future be more prudent; be careful not to betray yourself."

"Oh! you are right, madame; I will try to conceal my feelings."

"But, look you, Miretta--try more earnestly than ever to meet the man you love; and the first time that you see him, remember to tell him this: that I wish to see him and speak with him; that I have need of his services; that he can safely trust me; that I will go, alone with you, to whatever place of rendezvous he may appoint; and that I will reward him generously for what he does for me.--Will you tell him all that, Miretta? Do you promise?"

"Yes, madame, I will do whatever you command. But, alas! in order to tell Giovanni this, I must see him; and, as you know, I cannot succeed in that."

"Do not despair; you will see your lover again. Chance often serves us better than we serve ourselves, and our wishes are gratified at the moment when we least expect it.--Look at me: since I have been Marquise de Santoval, I have been to all sorts of festivities, b.a.l.l.s, and receptions, and yet I have not met the man I seek. He avoids me doubtless, but it is useless; he will be obliged to see me again, for I am determined that he shall.--But I hear the Marquis de Santoval's step!--Go, take this secret door!--It is as well that he should not see you, for you are still perturbed, and he has eyes that read deeper than our faces.--Go."

XL

A FeTE AT CAMILLA'S

The courtesan Camilla occupied a charming little house near Porte Saint-Honore; it was in the city, and yet it was almost in the country.

A garden of lilacs, syringas, and roses was behind the wing of the house in which its mistress spent most of her time; and in summer it seemed a continuation of a delightful salon on the ground floor, the portieres of which were drawn aside in graceful folds, affording a view of the flowering shrubs and the well-kept paths, where the dense foliage of numerous lovely sycamores made the air as cool by day as by night.

It was midsummer; a heavy, oppressively hot atmosphere had relaxed the nerves of the people of Paris.

Camilla had chosen that time to give an evening party; for evening was the only part of the day when one could breathe with any pleasure, when the air was made somewhat cooler by gentle breezes, and it was delicious to stroll in the garden and rest under the shrubbery.

The fascinating courtesan had chosen her time with most excellent judgment. What could be more voluptuous in summer than a garden intersected by vague gleams of light, beneath a sky thickly strewn with twinkling stars!

Not far from a brilliantly illuminated circle of velvety turf, a dark path wound among darker thickets.

The strains of the instruments, the perfume of the flowers, the bouquet of the wines and liqueurs of all sorts which were served to the guests, charmed and intoxicated the senses. Everyone was at liberty to do only what he pleased--constraint and etiquette were not admitted to Camilla's abode; and they who did the most extravagant things were considered the most agreeable.

But it was not solely to display her gardens, her flowers, the furniture of her salons, and the magnificence of her toilet, that Camilla was giving this fete. For some time past, Leodgard's favorite had observed a noticeable abatement in the ardor of the count's pa.s.sion; her lover was still as generous, as magnificent as ever in his dealings with her, but he felt no pleasure in seeing her and left her without regret; and when he pa.s.sed a few hours with her, those hours seemed interminable to him, for his eyes expressed ennui rather than enjoyment.