The Purchase Price Part 38

He himself began eagerly, the fanatic fire still in his eye, on details of the work so near to his soul. "My dear Countess," he exclaimed, even as he grasped her hands, "we're doing splendidly.

We'll have the whole Mississippi Valley in an uproar before long.

All the lower Ohio is unsettled. Missouri, Illinois, Indiana are muttering as loudly as New England. I hear that Lily has led away a whole neighborhood over in Missouri. A few months more like this, and we'll have this whole country in a turmoil. It's bound to win--the country's bound to come to its senses--if we keep on."

"But we can not keep on, my dear Sir," she said to him slowly.

"That is why I have sent for you."

"How do you mean? What's wrong? Can not keep on--end our work?

You're jesting!"

"No, it is the truth. Kossuth is in Turkey. Shall I join him there? Where shall I go? I'm an exile from France. I dare not return to Hungary."

"You--I'll--I'll not believe it! What do you mean?"

"I am ruined financially, that's all. My funds are at an end. My estates are gone! My agent tells me he can send me no more money.

How much do you think," she said, with a little _moue_, "we can do in the way of deporting blacks out of my earnings--well, say as teacher of music, or of French?"

"I'll not believe it--you--why, you've been used to riches, luxuries, all your life! And I--why, I've helped impoverish you!

I've been spending your money. A ship-load of blacks, against you?

My G.o.d! I'd have cut my hand off rather."

She showed him the correspondence, proof of all that she had said, and he read with a face haggard in unhappiness.'

"There' There!" she said. "You've not heard me make any outcry yet, have you? Why should you, then? I have seen men lay down their lives for a principle, a belief. You will see that again.

Should not a woman lay down her money?

"But as to that," she went on lightly, "why, there are many things one might do. I might make a rich alliance, don't you think?"

He suddenly stiffened and straightened, and looked her full in the eye, a slow flush coming across his face.

"I couldn't have said it any time before this," said he. "It has been in my heart all along, but I didn't dare--not then. Yes, a rich alliance if you liked, I do not doubt. There's a poor one waiting for you, any time you like. You know that. You must have seen it, a thousand times--"

She advanced to him easily and held out both her hands. "Now, now!" she said. "Don't begin that. You'll only hurt us both. My lieutenant, visionary as myself! Ah, we've failed."

"But everybody will blame you--you will have no place to go--it will be horrible--you don't begin to know what it means. Of course, we have made mistakes."

"Then let's not make the worst mistake of all," she said.

"But we could do so much--"

She turned upon him suddenly, pale, excited. "Do not!" she cried.

"Do not use those words! It seems to me that that is what all men think and say. 'How much we could do--together!' Do not say that to me."

At this he sobered. "Then there is some one else?" he said slowly.

"You've heard some one else use those words? I couldn't blame him.

Well, I wish him happiness. And I wish you happiness, too. I had no right to presume."

"Happiness!--what is that?" she said slowly. "I've been trying to find it all my life. My G.o.d! How crooked were all the mismated planets at my birth! I haven't been happy myself. I do not think that I've added one iota to the happiness of any one else, I've just failed, that's all. And I've tried so hard--to do something, something for the world! Oh, can a woman--can she, ever?" For once shaken, she dropped her face an instant in her hands, he standing by, mute, and suffering much as herself at seeing her thus suffer.

"But now," she continued after a time, "--I want to ask you whether I've been ungenerous or vindictive with you--"

"Vindictive? You? Never! But why should you be?"

"Captain," she said easily, "my lieutenant, my friend, let me say--I will not be specific--I will not mention names or dates; but do you think, if you were a woman, you could ever marry a man who once, behind your back, with not even eagerness to incite him, but coolly, deliberately--had played a game of cards for--you?"

He stiffened as though shot. "I know. But you misunderstand. I did not play for you. I played to relieve a situation--because I thought you wished--because it seemed the solution of a situation hard for both of us. I thought--"

"Solution!" She blazed up now, tigerlike, and her words came through set lips. "I'd never have told you I knew, if you hadn't said what you have. But--a solution--a plan--a compromise! You ought to have played for me! You ought to have played for me; and you ought to have won--have won!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: You ought to have played for me!]

He stood before a woman new to him, one so different from the grateful and gracious enthusiast he had met all these months that he could not comprehend the change, could not at once adjust his confused senses. So miserable was he that suddenly, with one of her swift changes, she smiled at him, even through her sudden tears. "No! No!" she exclaimed. "See! Look here!"

She handed him a little sheet of crumpled note paper, inscribed in a cramped hand, showed him the inscription--"Jeanne Fournier."

"You don't know who that is?" she asked him.

"No, I don't know."

"Why, yes, you do. My maid--my French maid--don't you remember?

She married Hector, the cooper, at St. Genevieve. Now, see, Jeanne is writing to me again. Don't you see, there's a baby, and it is named for me--who has none. Good-by, that money!"--she kissed hand to the air--"Good-by, that idea, that dream of mine! That's of no consequence. In fact, nothing is of consequence. See, this is the baby of Jeanne! She has asked me to come. Why, then, should I delay?"

Whether it were tears or smiles which he saw upon her face Carlisle never could determine. Whether it were physical unrest or mental emotion, he did not know, but certainly it was that the letter of the agent remained upon the table untouched between them while Josephine St. Auban pressed to her lips the letter from Jeanne, her maid.

"Why, I have not failed at all!" said she. "Have I not cared for and brought up this Jeanne, and is there not a baby of Jeanne, a baby whom she has named for me?"

Carlisle, mute and unnoticed, indeed, as he felt almost forgotten, was relieved when there came a knock at the door. A messenger bearing a card entered. She turned toward him gravely, and he could only read dismissal now. Mute and unhappy, he hurried from the room. He did not, however, pa.s.s from the stage of activity he had chosen. He later fought for his convictions, and saw accomplished, before, with so many other brave men, he fell upon the field of battle--accomplished at vast cost of blood and tears--that work which he had been inspired to undertake in a more futile form.

"You may say to this gentleman that I shall join him presently, in the parlor at the right of the stair," said Josephine St. Auban after a moment to the messenger.

CHAPTER XXVIII

IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT

As she entered the room, there rose to meet her a tall gentleman, who stood gravely regarding her. At sight of him she paused, embarra.s.sed. No figure was more familiar in Washington, yet none was less to be expected here. There was no mistaking the large frame, the high brow, the dark and piercing eye, the costume--that of another day. Involuntarily, although her first impression (based upon other meetings with distinguished men) was one more of apprehension than of pleasure, she swept him a deep curtsy. With the grace of a courtier he extended a hand and led her to a chair.

"You know me, Madam?" he demanded, in a deep and bell-like voice.

"I know you, as well. I am delighted, I am honored, to announce that I come to you as a messenger."

"It is an honor that you come in any capacity, Sir. To what may I attribute so kind a visit, to one so unimportant?"

"No, no, my dear Countess. We rate you very high. It is the wish of a certain gentleman to have you attend a little meeting which will not welcome many out of all this city. It is informal and unofficial, my dear lady, but all those who will be there will be glad to have your attendance. It was thought well for me to drop in to interrogate your pleasure in the matter."

"It is a command, Sir! Very well, at what time, then?"

"If it should please you, it would delight me to accompany you at once, my dear lady! My carriage is waiting now."