The Bath Keepers Volume Ii Part 43

On the following day they repeated the same manoeuvre, with no better success. And Blanche, as she returned to the house with her mother, who sighed profoundly, seemed to share her sadness.

"Mamma, he did not come--the gentleman!" she said.

Several days pa.s.sed thus, and they were forced to conclude that Leodgard, angry at having been surprised by Ambroisine when he was kissing his daughter, had preferred not to return to Place Royale, for fear of other disagreeable encounters.

The Sire de Jarnonville, the loyal friend of the countess and of Ambroisine, who loved Blanche with all the fervent paternal love that heaven had left in the depths of his heart, was speedily informed of what had happened on Place Royale. He was more touched than surprised; it seemed to him so natural that one should be drawn to Blanche at first sight.

"I knew that he needed only to see her to love her!" cried Jarnonville, letting his eyes rest on Blanche. "He refused to listen to me or to believe me, one day when I spoke to him of his daughter; but Providence, more powerful than his will, has brought him and the child together.

Henceforth, madame, be of good cheer; it is impossible that your child should not bring her father back to you."

With such words did Jarnonville comfort Bathilde when she sighed because Leodgard had not appeared again on the bench where his daughter had twice met him. Ambroisine united her efforts with the chevalier's to encourage her friend. Bathilde, Ambroisine, and the chevalier pa.s.sed almost every evening at the Hotel de Marvejols, beside Blanche's cradle, spending in pleasant converse the long autumn evenings, talking almost constantly of him who refused to accept the pure happiness offered him by his own fireside, his wife, and his child.

It was after such a conversation, prolonged to a later hour than usual, that Ambroisine left the hotel with Jarnonville, who always escorted her to Master Hugonnet's door. On this particular evening it was very dark, and the fine rain that was falling was icy cold, so that even when the chevalier and his companion were still protected by the arcades of the square he said to her more than once:

"Wrap yourself tightly in your cloak, mademoiselle, for it is raining and it is quite cold."

Then, with an almost involuntary movement, the chevalier pressed closer to his side the arm that the lovely girl had slipped through his.

They had reached the end of the arcade, when a horrible spectacle arrested their steps: a man lay flat on the ground; his cloak and his sword were at some little distance, and it was so dark that they could not see the pool of blood in which his body lay.

"Mon Dieu! what is that?" exclaimed Ambroisine, stopping abruptly; "I believe that it is a man there--lying on the ground."

"Yes, you are right; perhaps he is asleep; perhaps he is drunk.--Wait, while I ascertain."

Jarnonville released Ambroisine's arm, walked nearer to the body that lay there absolutely inert, and stooped over it. In a moment he cried out:

"Ah! the poor fellow is bathed in his own blood!"

"See that sword yonder--perhaps there has been a duel."

"If I could raise his head; but his hair has fallen over his face and conceals it.--Mon Dieu! is this a delusion?"

"What is it, chevalier?"

"For heaven's sake, stand aside a little, so that the light may shine on this unfortunate man--yes, it is he! it is surely he!"

"Who, in G.o.d's name?"

"Leodgard!"

"The count--is it possible!--Great G.o.d! is he dead?"

"Wait--wait!--No, it seems to me that I feel a faint movement of the heart."

"I will run at once to the hotel for help; don't leave him, chevalier."

Ambroisine was no longer afraid, she forgot the cold and the darkness alike. Running along the dark arcade, she soon reached the Hotel de Marvejols; and having enjoined upon the concierge to conceal from the countess all knowledge of what was going on, she took two servants with her and hurried back at full speed to Jarnonville, who was on his knees beside Leodgard, having raised his head, which he was supporting against his breast. But the wounded man had not recovered consciousness; he was still in the same condition.

With the aid of the two servants, the chevalier raised Leodgard, who was forthwith transported to the Hotel de Marvejols. The count had his own suite there, which he had not occupied for many months, but which was always ready for his occupancy, none the less.

"It is your master," said the chevalier to the servants, whom curiosity had drawn to the gateway; "it is Monsieur le Comte de Marvejols, whom we found in this condition a few steps from here. Let one of you run with all speed to fetch a physician or a surgeon. But, above all things, absolute secrecy; do not let this accident reach madame la comtesse's ears to-night; before we tell her that her husband is under her roof, we must know if there is any hope of restoring him to life!"

Jarnonville's orders were executed with zeal. Ambroisine installed herself by the wounded man's bedside, having sent a servant to inform her father that she should pa.s.s the night at the Hotel de Marvejols.

Luckily, the hotel was an immense place, and the young countess's apartment was in a different wing from that to which her husband had been taken. So that Bathilde slept in peace beside her daughter, having no suspicion that the constant object of her thoughts was so near her at that moment.

The surgeon summoned by the servant carefully examined the deep wound in Leodgard's breast. One and all waited anxiously to hear what he would say, what judgment he would p.r.o.nounce.

But the man of science simply shook his head in a far from encouraging fashion, and said:

"This is a very serious wound, and the loss of blood has been considerable. If monsieur le comte recovers, he will be very fortunate.

However, if the sword did not reach any of the vital organs, it is possible that he may be cured. For the moment, it is impossible to say.

When the patient recovers consciousness, be careful, above all things, not to let him talk; avoid everything that is likely to cause him the slightest excitement."

The surgeon took his leave after giving the necessary directions, saying that he would return at daybreak.

Jarnonville and Ambroisine pa.s.sed the night beside the wounded man.

"Mon Dieu! if she suspected that he was here!" murmured the girl, glancing at the chevalier.

"She would be unable to resist the desire to come to see him; she would insist upon attending to his wants; and you heard what the surgeon said--that the slightest excitement might be fatal to him. Do you think that he would not be excited, if, on opening his eyes, he should see his wife by his side?"

"You are right, chevalier; but if fate has willed that monsieur le comte is to die of this wound, if to-morrow he should have ceased to live! Do you think that Bathilde would ever forgive us for concealing from her the fact that her husband is here--dying--so near her; and for depriving her of the melancholy pleasure of closing his eyes?"

"I know not what to say; follow the dictates of your heart. You love the countess too dearly not to divine which is likely to cause her the less pain,--to remain in ignorance of her husband's danger, or to share our anxiety concerning his fate."

Ambroisine hesitated, but she decided at last to wait until daybreak and the surgeon's return.

Toward the middle of the night, Leodgard partly opened his eyes; but his vague, uncertain glance could not endure the dim light in the room; he soon dropped his eyelids, having recognized none of his surroundings.

At dawn, the surgeon returned to his patient; after examining him carefully, feeling his pulse, and listening a long while to his respiration, he made a motion with his head, more encouraging than the earlier one, and said:

"I have a little hope; but I cannot say anything definite until I have removed the dressing of the wound, and I must not do that until evening.

Until then, the same directions, the same precautions; give him this phial to inhale from, if he should lose consciousness; but, above all things, absolute silence."

When the surgeon had gone, Ambroisine, having made up her mind what to do, went to her friend's room.

It was only seven o'clock in the morning; Bathilde was still asleep, with her face turned toward her daughter's cradle, so that when she woke her first glance was for her child.

Ambroisine walked into the room very softly, in order to make no noise.

The faithful Marie, who was already in the adjoining room, allowed her mistress's young friend to pa.s.s without remonstrance; for the countess had once told her that Ambroisine was at liberty to enter her apartment at all times and seasons.

The young mother and her child were both sleeping peacefully.

"They are enjoying sweet repose," said Ambroisine to herself, as she gazed at them. "Poor Bathilde! you have earned it by all the torments and suffering you have endured!--Would it not be a crime to disturb it?

The man who is yonder is most unjust to you! does he deserve that you should shed more tears for him?--Ah, no! it seems to me that he does not deserve it.--But she still loves him, he is this little angel's father; and then, too, he has held Blanche to his heart! For that reason, we must forgive him."

And Ambroisine laid her hand gently on Bathilde's arm. Her light sleep was disturbed by the slightest touch. When she saw her friend standing by her side, the young mother apprehended some calamity and instantly turned her eyes toward her daughter; but the child was sleeping quietly, and her pink and white cheeks were altogether rea.s.suring as to her health.