The White House Part 57

Edouard did not care to dance; amid that crowd, that noise, all those remarks exchanged but unheeded, his thoughts wandered far from the chateau. But one must do like everybody else; the languishing Eudoxie did not dance, as she found that exercise too violent for her nerves; and to her great amazement Edouard left her to invite another lady.

Despite the accuracy of her steps, Mademoiselle Cornelie was not invited by Alfred for the following dance. Indeed she came very near not dancing at all, because Robineau had felt called upon to invite another partner; but Uncle Mignon was always at hand to make himself useful; his niece called him, and they took their places opposite Alfred, before whom Mademoiselle Cornelie executed nothing but pirouettes.

They had reached the fourth dance when the explosion of a bomb announced the fireworks.

"What! already?" said Robineau; "it is much too soon. Francois, go and tell Monsieur Ferulus not to set them off yet."

But Monsieur Ferulus, to avenge himself for their refusal to listen to his singing, had vowed that he would not allow the ball to last any longer than the dinner. He had not awaited the message from Francois to set fire to the suns and the pin-wheels; and when the valet came with his master's orders, the librarian replied:

"I am very sorry, but the fire is lighted and I can't put it out."

When they found that the rockets and suns continued to go off, they decided to leave the ball room and go into the garden where the fireworks were in progress. In the confusion caused by this hurried exit, the gentlemen escorted the first ladies whom they found; Edouard had hurried out among the first, in order to avoid having Madame de Hautmont on his arm. Alfred had led away one of Monsieur Moulinet's nieces, and Mademoiselle Cornelie, compelled to accept Robineau's escort, and convinced at last that all her airs and graces produced no effect upon the young man who possessed a hundred thousand francs a year, concluded that it would be prudent not to allow Robineau also to carry his homage elsewhere; so she took his hand with a forced smile, allowed herself to be led by him into the garden, and pretended not to notice that he was taking her into a path which the rest of the company were not following; and not until they reached a decidedly dark spot did she say to him:

"Where in the world are you taking me, Monsieur de la Roche-Noire?

Really, you are a cruel man."

At the words "cruel man," Robineau fell at Cornelie's feet, saying:

"I do not know what I am, but I do know that I adore you; your charms, your dancing, your wit, everything combines to take me captive; I place my fortune and my heart at your feet."

"Well, we will see; I think that--speak to my father."

"But you, ravishing Cornelie?"

"I--I--ah! Mon Dieu! there goes the bouquet, and we are not there!"

The company had in fact arrived only in time to see the bouquet fired, and to receive a few rocket sticks in their faces; but, by way of compensation, Mademoiselle Cheval, Jeannette, Cunette, Vincent, and the scullions had had the best places, and had seen the whole display.

"This will teach them to go away when I am singing!" said Monsieur Ferulus to himself, rubbing his hands.

"We should have done as well not to have stopped dancing," remarked the young ladies.

"It seems that these fireworks were discharged for the servants," said Monsieur Berlingue.

Monsieur le Marquis de la Pincerie, who appeared with his brother Mignon just as everybody else was returning, refused to believe that the fireworks had been discharged in his absence; to convince him, Mignon was forced to go out and pick up the sticks, the remains of the cartridges, and bring them to him. The guests returned to the chateau to resume their dancing, but when they reached the ball room they looked in vain for the orchestra. At the noise of the bombs and rockets, the blind man had fled and his two colleagues had disappeared with him. It is difficult to dance without music, so that the fete came to an end much earlier than had been expected.

Each family took its place in the carriage which had brought it. As Monsieur de Tantignac's horse had not returned to fetch his master, the chevalier asked permission to make a tenth in the paper manufacturer's carriage. The chariot of Monsieur de la Pincerie received once more the n.o.ble family. Madame de Hautmont entered it in a very bad temper because Edouard had not offered her his hand, which she expected him to do, in order to obtain an opportunity to ask permission to see her again. But Robineau had almost carried Mademoiselle Cornelie to the carriage in his arms, whispering in her ear:

"Prepare your father to listen to me."

At last, all the carriages, cabriolets and chariots had left the chateau. Cunette closed the gates, calling after them: "G.o.d bless you!"

Vincent tossed his livery upon his bed. Alfred, fatigued by dancing, and by the walks and conversations of the day, was delighted to retire.

Edouard was no less delighted to be left to himself, and free to abandon himself to his thoughts; and Robineau returned to his apartment, saying to Monsieur Ferulus:

"It seems to me that the fete was rather fine, I hope that it will be talked about for a long while."

"It will be cited a hundred years hence, monsieur, as a model to be followed. But we did not remain long enough at table."

"And the ball ended much too early. Fancy those rascals of musicians running away during the fireworks! Who in the deuce can have shown the blind man the way?"

Monsieur Ferulus made no reply, but he turned his head to conceal a faint smile; then wished Robineau good-night; and he, thinking of the superb Cornelie, decided to go to bed; for one must always end by doing that after a day of festivity and enjoyment, as well as after a day of toil and sorrow.

XIX

LOVE AND MYSTERY

After the vagabond's visit, Isaure was sad and pensive; what the man had said to her concerning Alfred and Edouard caused the girl to reflect upon her situation. She thought that she had done wrong to talk to the two young men every morning; but could she prevent them from coming into the valley and resting in her cottage? They manifested such an affectionate friendliness for her! And they had long since ceased to talk of love to her. Once in a while, Alfred had tried to kiss her; but is it so rare a thing to see a peasant steal a kiss from a girl in the country? It is true that Edouard looked at her very affectionately, that he sighed when he shook her hand; but did all that prove that he was in love with a simple peasant girl?

The evening pa.s.sed in such reflections. At the faintest sound outside, Isaure listened intently; she dreaded a visit from the stranger; that man aroused in her a sensation which she could not define; she felt that he lacked those things which ordinarily arouse one's interest in an unfortunate person; she had a feeling now of fear in her lonely house; her glances as she looked about were wanting in the usual confidence; the darkness caused her an indefinable terror. Several times she went up to the topmost chamber in the cottage, and opening the window which looked toward the White House, gazed long and earnestly at the building, upon which the moon cast a pale light.

After pa.s.sing several hours at the window, Isaure retired; then at daybreak she drove her goats to the mountain as usual, saying to herself:

"They will come to-day! Shall I say anything to them about what that stranger said to me? No, I must not; he told me that these gentlemen love me; as if young men from the city could love a girl from the mountains! Oh, no! it was only in jest that Monsieur Alfred pretended to be in love with me; and Monsieur Edouard? Ah! he has never told me that he loved me!"

But the hour at which the young men usually came to the valley had long since pa.s.sed and they had not appeared. Isaure gazed very long and often at the road by which they always came, and she remained later than usual upon the mountain; at last she returned sadly to her cottage, and there continued to wait the coming of those who manifested so much friendship for her.

"They will not come," said the girl to herself, looking out of the door.

"No, they will not come to-day, and perhaps not to-morrow either. I ought not to be disappointed, since it is wrong to talk with those gentlemen every day."

And yet a tear fell from the girl's eyes; it seemed to her that she was once more utterly deserted.

"Perhaps they have left this part of the country!" she said to herself.

"Left without bidding me good-by; he especially, who seemed always so sorry to leave me! who smiled so sweetly at me! Why, then, did he accustom me to see him every day?"

The girl was right: why accustom people to happiness in order to inflict pain upon them afterward? That is what one should say to oneself before trying to beguile a heart. But at that time we think of almost anything else.

The day pa.s.sed and the young men did not come. Isaure did all that she could to divert her thoughts; she went in and out of the house, she talked to her hens and her cow and to Vaillant; but, despite all her efforts, her heart was heavy; the time seemed to pa.s.s more slowly than usual, and she did not sleep the whole of the night.

Once more day broke. The girl was already up, and was about to leave her cottage to go to the mountain, when she heard a faint sound in the distance. It speedily drew nearer. Isaure stopped; hope and joy glistened in her eyes. Yes, it was certainly the gallop of a horse that she heard, and it came nearer and nearer. Isaure looked down the road; a young man was approaching at a fast gallop; she recognized him; it was he, he whom she was especially surprised not to see the day before. Is it possible for a woman to be mistaken when love is in question?

Edouard had not slept during the night following the fete, and he had risen before dawn and saddled a horse for himself. Alfred was asleep, and Edouard felt no desire to wake him; but it was a breach of their agreement to go without him to see Isaure; however, love makes one forget as many agreements as it forgets itself!

In a few moments Edouard had dismounted, fastened his horse near the cottage, and run to Isaure, who did not dream of concealing all the pleasure which his presence caused her.

"Here you are!" she said; "ah! I had already made up my mind that you would not come any more!"

"Not come any more! not see you any more, Isaure! Do you think that it would be possible for me to exist away from you?"

As he spoke, Edouard took the girl's hands and pressed them fondly in his; then they sat down together at the foot of a tree, and gazed at each other for some time in silence. But one can speak so eloquently with the eyes!

"You did not come yesterday?" said the girl at last.

"No, it was impossible; there was company, a party, at the chateau at which we are staying! But how long the day seemed to me, amid all that noise, with those people for whom I care nothing, those pleasures in which I could take no part, because I was thinking of you, of you alone, with whom I am so happy!"