The Clique of Gold Part 36

"I am Lieut. Champcey, sir," he said. "What do you desire?"

But, instead of replying, the "gentleman" raised his hands to heaven in a perfect ecstasy of joy, and said in an undertone,- "We triumph at last!"

Then, turning to Daniel and the captain, he said,- "But come, gentlemen, come! I must explain my conduct; and we must be alone for what I have to tell you."

Pale, and with every sign of seasickness in his face, when he had first appeared on deck, the man now seemed to have recovered, and, in spite of the rolling of the vessel, followed the captain and Daniel with a firm step to the quarter-deck. As soon as they were alone, he said,- "Could I be here, if I had not used a stratagem? Evidently not. And yet I had the most powerful interest in boarding 'The Saint Louis' before she should enter port; therefore I did not hesitate."

He drew from his pocket a sheet of paper, simply folded twice, and said,- "Here is my apology, Lieut. Champcey; see if it is sufficient."

Utterly amazed, the young officer read,- "I am saved, Daniel; and I owe my life to the man who will hand you this. I shall owe to him the pleasure of seeing you again. Confide in him as you would in your best and most devoted friend; and, I beseech you, do not hesitate to follow his advice literally.

"Henrietta."

Daniel turned deadly pale, and tottered. This unexpected, intense happiness overcame him.

"Then-it is true-she is alive?" he stammered.

"She is at my sister's house, safe from all danger."

"And you, sir, you have rescued her?"

"I did!"

Prompt like thought, Daniel seized the man's hands, and, pressing them vehemently, exclaimed with a penetrating voice,- "Never, sir, never, whatever may happen, can I thank you enough. But remember, I pray you, under all circ.u.mstances, and for all times, you can count upon Lieut. Champcey."

A strange smile played on the man's lips; and, shaking his head, he said, "I shall before long remind you of your promise, lieutenant."

Standing between the two men, the captain of "The Saint Louis" was looking alternately at the one and the other with an astonished air, listening without comprehending, and imagining marvellous things. The only point he understood was this, that his presence was, to say the least, not useful.

"If that is so," he said to Daniel, "we cannot blame this gentleman for the ugly trick he has played us."

"Blame him? Oh, certainly not!"

"Then I'll leave you. I believe I have treated the sailor who brought him on board a little roughly; but I am going to order him a gla.s.s of brandy, which will set him right again."

Thereupon the captain discreetly withdrew; while Papa Ravinet continued,- "You will tell me, M. Champcey, that it would have been simpler to wait for you in port, and hand you my letter of introduction there. That would have been grievous imprudence. If I heard at the navy department of your arrival, others may have learned it as well. As soon, therefore, as 'The Saint Louis' was telegraphed in town, you may be sure a spy was sent to the wharf, who is going to follow you, never losing sight of you, and who will report all your goings and your doings."

"What does it matter?"

"Ah! do not say so, sir! If our enemies hear of our meeting, you see, if they only find out that we have conversed together, all is lost. They would see the danger that threatens them, and they would escape."

Daniel could hardly trust his ears.

"Our enemies?" he asked, emphasizing the word "our."

"Yes: I mean our enemies,-Sarah Brandon, Countess Ville-Handry, Maxime de Brevan, Thomas Elgin, and Mrs. Brian."

"You hate them?"

"If I hate them! I tell you for five years I have lived only on the hope of being able to avenge myself on them. Yes, it is five years now, that, lost in the crowd, I have followed them with the perseverance of an Indian,-five years that I have patiently, incessantly, inch by inch, undermined the ground beneath their steps. And they suspect nothing. I doubt whether they are aware of my existence. No, not even-What would it be to them, besides? They have pushed me so far down into the mud, that they cannot imagine my ever rising again up to their level. They triumph with impunity; they boast of their unpunished wickedness, and think they are strong, and safe from all attacks, because they have the prestige and the power of gold. And yet their hour is coming. I, the wretched man, who have been compelled to hide, and to live on my daily labor,-I have attained my end. Every thing is ready; and I have only to touch the proud fabric of their crimes to make it come down upon them, and crush them all under the ruins. Ah! if I could see them only suffer one-fourth of what they have made me suffer, I should die content."

Papa Ravinet seemed to have grown a foot; his hatred convulsed his placid face; his voice trembled with rage; and his yellow eyes shone with ill-subdued pa.s.sion.

Daniel wondered, and asked himself what the people who had sworn to ruin him and Henrietta could have done to this man, who looked so inoffensive with his bright-flowered waistcoat and his coat with the high collar.

"But who are you, sir?" he asked.

"Who am I?" exclaimed the man,-"who am I?"

But he paused; and, after waiting a little while, he sunk his head, and said,- "I am Anthony Ravinet, dealer in curiosities."

The clipper was in the meantime making way rapidly. Already the white country houses appeared on the high bluffs amid the pine-groves; and the outlines of the Castle of If were clearly penned on the deep blue of the sky.

"But we are getting near," exclaimed Papa Ravinet; "and I must get back into my boat. I did not come out so far, that they might see me enter on board 'The Saint Louis.'"

And when Daniel offered him his state-room, where he might remain in concealment, he replied,- "No, no! We shall have time enough to come to an understanding about what is to be done in Paris; and I must go back by rail to-night; I came down for the sole purpose of telling you this. Miss Henrietta is at my sister's house; but you must take care not to come there. Neither Sarah nor Brevan know what has become of her; they think she has thrown herself into the river; and this conviction is our safety and our strength. As they will most a.s.suredly have you watched, the slightest imprudence might betray us."

"But I must see Henrietta, sir."

"Certainly; and I have found the means for it. Instead of going to your former lodgings, go to the Hotel du Louvre. I will see to it that my sister and Miss Ville-Handry shall have taken rooms there before you reach Paris; and you may be sure, that, in less than a quarter of an hour after your arrival, you will hear news. But, heavens, how near we are! I must make haste."

Upon Daniel's request, the ship lay by long enough to allow Papa Ravinet and his sailor to get back again into their boat without danger. When they were safely stowed away in it, and at the moment when they cast off the man-rope, Papa Ravinet called to Daniel,- "We shall soon see you! Rely upon me! Tonight Miss Henrietta shall have a telegram from us."

XXVIII.

At the same hour when Papa Ravinet, on the deck of "The Saint Louis," was pressing Daniel's hand, and bidding him farewell, there were in Paris two poor women, who prayed and watched with breathless anxiety,-the sister of the old dealer, Mrs. Bertolle, the widow; and Henrietta, the daughter of Count Ville-Handry. When Papa Ravinet had appeared the evening before, with his carpet-bag in his hand, his hurry had been so extraordinary, and his excitement so great, that one might have doubted his sanity. He had peremptorily asked his sister for two thousand francs; had made Henrietta write in all haste a letter of introduction to Daniel; and had rushed out again like a tempest, as he had come in, without saying more than this,- "M. Champcey will arrive, or perhaps has already arrived, in Ma.r.s.eilles, on board a merchant vessel, 'The Saint Louis.' I have been told so at the navy department. It is all important that I should see him before anybody else. I take the express train of quarter past seven. To-morrow, I'll send you a telegram."

The two ladies asked for something more, a hope, a word; but no, nothing more! The old dealer had jumped into the carriage that had brought him, before they had recovered from their surprise; and they remained there, sitting before the fire, silent, their heads in their hands, each lost in conjectures. When the clock struck seven, the good widow was aroused from her grave thoughts, which seemed so different from her usual cheerful temper.

"Come, come, Miss Henrietta," she said with somewhat forced gayety, "my brother's departure does not condemn us, as far as I know, to starve ourselves to death."

She had gotten up as she said this. She set the table, and then sat down opposite to Henrietta, to their modest dinner. Modest it was, indeed, and still too abundant. They were both too much overcome to be able to eat; and yet both handled knife and fork, trying to deceive one another. Their thoughts were far away, in spite of all their efforts to keep them at home, and followed the traveller.

"Now he has left," whispered Henrietta as it struck eight.

"He is on his way already," replied the old lady.

But neither of them knew anything of the journey from Paris to Ma.r.s.eilles. They were ignorant of the distances, the names of the stations, and even of the large cities through which the railroad pa.s.ses.

"We must try and get a railway guide," said the good widow. And, quite proud of her happy thought, she went out instantly, hurried to the nearest bookstore, and soon reappeared, flourishing triumphantly a yellow pamphlet, and saying,- "Now we shall see it all, my dear child."

Then, placing the guide on the tablecloth between them, they looked for the page containing the railway from Paris to Lyons and Ma.r.s.eilles, then the train which Papa Ravinet was to have taken; and they delighted in counting up how swiftly the "express" went, and all the stations where it stopped.

Then, when the table was cleared, instead of going industriously to work, as usually, they kept constantly looking at the clock, and, after consulting the book, said to each other,- "He is at Montereau now; he must be beyond Sens; he will soon be at Tonnerre."

A childish satisfaction, no doubt, and very idle. But who of us has not, at least once in his life, derived a wonderful pleasure, or perhaps unspeakable relief from impatience, or even grief, from following thus across s.p.a.ce a beloved one who was going away, or coming home? Towards midnight, however, the old lady remarked that it was getting late, and that it would be wise to go to bed.

"You think you will sleep, madam?" asked Henrietta, surprised.

"No, my child; but"- "Oh! I, for my part,-I could not sleep. This work on which we are busy is very pressing, you say; why could we not finish it?"

"Well, let us sit up then," said the good widow.

The poor women, reduced as they were to conjectures by Papa Ravinet's laconic answers, nevertheless knew full well that some great event was in preparation, something unexpected, and yet decisive. What it was, they did not know; but they understood, or rather felt, that Daniel's return would and must totally change the aspect of affairs. But would Daniel really come?

"If he does come," said Henrietta, "why did they only the other day tell me, at the navy department, that he was not coming? Then, again, why should he come home in a merchant vessel, and not on board his frigate?"

"Your letters have probably reached him at last," explained the old lady; "and, as soon as he received them, he came home."

Gradually, however, after having exhausted all conjectures, and after having discussed all contingencies, Henrietta became silent. When it struck half-past three, she said once more,- "Ah! M. Ravinet is at the Lyons station now."

Then her hand became less and less active in drawing the worsted, her head oscillated from side to side, and her eyelids closed unconsciously. Her old friend advised her to retire; and this time she did not refuse.

It was past ten o'clock when she awoke; and upon entering, fully dressed, into the sitting-room, Mrs. Bertolle greeted her with the exclamation:- "At this moment my brother reaches Ma.r.s.eilles!"

"Ah! then it will not be long before we shall have news," replied Henrietta.

But there are moments in which we think electricity the slowest of messengers. At two o'clock nothing had come; and the poor women began to accuse the old dealer of having forgotten them, when, at last, the bell was rung.

It was really the telegraph messenger, with his black leather pouch. The old lady signed her receipt with marvellous promptness; and, tearing the envelope hastily open, she read,- Ma.r.s.eilles, 12.40 a.m.

"Saint Louis" signalled by telegraph this morning. Will be in to-night. I hire boat to go and meet her, provided Champcey is on board. This evening telegram.

Ravinet.

"But this does not tell us any thing," said Henrietta, terribly disappointed. "Just see, madam, your brother is not even sure whether M. Champcey is on board 'The Saint Louis.'"

Perhaps Mrs. Bertolle, also, was a little disappointed; but she was not the person to let it be seen.

"But what did you expect, dear child? Anthony has not been an hour in Ma.r.s.eilles; how do you think he can know? We must wait till the evening. It is only a matter of a few hours."

She said this very quietly; but all who have ever undergone the anguish of expectation will know how it becomes more and more intolerable as the moment approaches that is to bring the decision. However the old lady endeavored to control her excitement, the calm and dignified woman could not long conceal the nervous fever that was raging within her. Ten times during the afternoon she opened the window, to look for-what? She could not have told it herself, as she well knew nothing could come as yet. At night she could not stay in any one place. She tried in vain to work on her embroidery; her fingers refused their service.

At last, at ten minutes past nine, the telegraph man appeared, as impa.s.sive as ever.

This time it was Henrietta who had taken the despatch; and, before opening it, she had half a minute's fearful suspense, as if the paper had contained the secret of her fate. Then, by a sudden impulse, tearing the envelope, she read, almost at a glance,- Ma.r.s.eilles, 6.45 p.m.

I have seen Champcey. All well; devoted to Henrietta. Return this evening. Will be in Paris tomorrow evening at seven o'clock. Prepare your trunks as if you were to start on a month's journey immediately after my return. All is going well.

Pale as death, and trembling like a leaf, but with open lips and bright eyes, Henrietta had sunk into a chair. Up to this moment she had doubted every thing. Up to this hour, until she held the proof in her hand, she had not allowed herself to hope. Such great happiness does not seem to the unhappy to be intended for them. But now she stammered out,- "Daniel is in France! Daniel! Nothing more to fear; the future is ours. I am safe now."

But people do not die of joy; and, when she had recovered her equanimity, Henrietta understood how cruel she had been in the incoherent phrases that had escaped her in her excitement. She rose with a start, and, seizing Mrs. Bertolle's hands, said to her,- "Great G.o.d! what am I saying! Ah, you will pardon me, madam, I am sure; but I feel as if I did not know what I am doing. Safe! I owe it to you and your brother, if I am safe. Without you Daniel would find nothing of me but a cross at the cemetery, and a name stained and destroyed by infamous calumnies."

The old lady did not hear a word. She had picked up the despatch, had read it; and, overcome by its contents, had sat down near the fireplace, utterly insensible to the outside world. The most fearful hatred convulsed her ordinarily calm and gentle features; and pale, with closed teeth, and in a hoa.r.s.e voice, she said over and over again,- "We shall be avenged."

Most a.s.suredly Henrietta did not find out only now that the old dealer and his sister hated her enemies, Sarah Brandon and Maxime de Brevan, mortally; but she had never seen that hatred break out so terribly as to-night. What had brought it about? This she could not fathom. Papa Ravinet, it was evident, was not a n.o.body. Ill-bred and coa.r.s.e in Water Street, amid the thousand articles of his trade, he became a very different man as soon as he reached his sister's house. As to the Widow Bertolle, she was evidently a woman of superior intellect and education.

How had they both been reduced to this more than modest condition? By reverses of fortune. That accounts for everything, but explains nothing.

Such were Henrietta's thoughts, when the old lady roused her from her meditations.

"You saw, my dear child," she began saying, "that my brother desires us to be ready to set out on a long journey as soon as he comes home."

"Yes, madam; and I am quite astonished."

"I understand; but, although I know no more than you do of my brother's intentions, I know that he does nothing without a purpose. We ought, therefore, in prudence, comply with his wishes."

They agreed, therefore, at once on their arrangements; and the next day Mrs. Bertolle went out to purchase whatever might be necessary,-ready-made dresses for Henrietta, shoes, and linen. Towards five o'clock in the afternoon, all the preparations of the old lady and the young girl had been made; and all their things were carefully stowed away in three large trunks. According to Papa Ravinet's despatch, they had only about two hours more to wait, three hours at the worst. Still they were out of their reckoning. It was half-past eight before the good man arrived, evidently broken down by the long and rapid journey which he had just made.

"At last!" exclaimed Mrs. Bertolle. "We hardly expected you any longer to-night."

But he interrupted her, saying,- "Oh, my dear sister! don't you think I suffered when I thought of your impatience? But it was absolutely necessary I should show myself in Water Street."

"You have seen Mrs. Cheva.s.sat?"

"I come from her just now. She is quite at her ease. I am sure she has not the slightest doubt that Miss Ville-Handry has killed herself; and she goes religiously every morning to the Morgue."

Henrietta shuddered.

"And M. de Brevan?" she asked.

Papa Ravinet looked troubled.

"Ah, I don't feel so safe there," he replied. "The man I had left in charge of him has foolishly lost sight of him."

Then noticing the trunks, he said,- "But I am talking, and time flies. You are ready, I see. Let us go. I have a carriage at the door. We can talk on the way."

When he noticed some reluctance in Henrietta's face, he added with a kindly smile,- "You need not fear anything, Miss Henrietta; we are not going away from M. Champcey, very far from it. Here, you see, he could not have come twice without betraying the secret of your existence."

"But where are we going?" asked Mrs. Bertolle.

"To the Hotel du Louvre, dear sister, where you will take rooms for Mrs. and Miss Bertolle. Be calm; my plans are laid."

Thereupon, he ran out on the staircase to call the concierge to help him in taking down the trunks.

Although the manoeuvres required by Papa Ravinet's appearance on board "The Saint Louis" had taken but little time, the delay had been long enough to prevent the ship from going through all the formalities that same evening. She had, therefore, to drop anchor at some distance from the harbor, to the great disgust of the crew, who saw Ma.r.s.eilles all ablaze before them, and who could count the wineshops, and hear the songs of the half-drunken people as they walked down the wharves in merry bands.

The least unhappy of them all was, for once, Daniel. The terrible excitement he had undergone had given way to utter prostration. His nerves, strained to the utmost, relaxed; and he felt the delight of a man who can at last throw down a heavy burden which he has long borne on his shoulders. Papa Ravinet had given him no details; but he did not regret it, he hardly noticed it. He knew positively that his Henrietta was alive; that she was in safety; and that she still loved him. That was enough.