The White House Part 82

"Simply have it carefully secured and have all the doors walled up, as well as the gate in the garden behind the statue of Mars, and no one will make his way into your premises without your permission, unless your concierge continues to leave the main gate open all night."

With that, Alfred shook hands with Robineau, and, leaving him bewildered by what he had learned, left the chateau to return to the White House, feeling sure that his father or Edouard would have been more fortunate in their search than he had been.

Alfred found only the baron at the place of meeting. Edouard had not yet returned, and they hoped that he had discovered the track of Isaure's abductors.

"Poor child!" said the baron; "if we cannot find her, I shall reproach myself with this disaster forever; and yet you shall judge, Alfred, if I have acted ill, if love and jealousy made me unjust."

"Father," said Alfred, "if it is painful for you to reveal this mystery to me, if you would have occasion to blush before your son, I do not wish to know it, I do not care to hear your secret."

"My dear boy, I might have had to blush in society, although I am in no wise culpable, but I can only be pitied by my son. You shall know all."

After they had waited two hours, Edouard arrived; but he was alone and in despair, for he had learned nothing of Isaure.

"Before undertaking our search anew," said the baron, "listen to me, my friends; learn at last the motive of my conduct and of the mystery of my relations with Isaure."

XXIX

THE BARON DE MARCEY'S SECOND MARRIAGE

Alfred and Edouard seated themselves beside the baron in the living room of the White House, the doors of which were carefully secured; and Monsieur de Marcey, after pressing his son's hand affectionately once more, and heaving a profound sigh, at last gratified the impatient curiosity of the two young men.

"I entered the service very young; the military profession had a great charm for me, I was burning to achieve renown, eager, ardent, impulsive; but my heart was never insensible to the sufferings of my fellowmen, and I recall that even on the battle field, I always remembered that I was fighting against men whom politics alone had made my enemies.

"I was pa.s.sionately fond of women, too. Like yourself, my dear Alfred, I was for some time a fickle creature; I ran from one conquest to another, forgetting on the morrow the fair one who had charmed me the day before; that time was the happiest in my life, but it was brief; my heart, in reality easily moved, longed to be attached by other than trivial bonds.

But I was born jealous; that cruel sentiment had already made me unhappy with women whom I hardly loved; it was to be feared therefore that it would a.s.sume still greater proportions with one whom I adored. That is why my parents induced me to contract, at twenty-three years, what is called a marriage of reason. Although I was not madly in love with her, I married Celine de Colleville, your mother, my dear Alfred. A year after our wedding, she brought you into the world. Your birth and your mother's virtues had made my happiness secure; every day I felt that my attachment to Celine increased, and I thanked my parents for the choice that they had made for me; but a year after your birth, I lost my wife.

You were too young for me to seek comfort from you; but the war, which had broken out again, recalled me to the field, and there I found distraction from my grief.

"More than five years had pa.s.sed since the death of your mother, my memory of whom was still as sweet as that which recalls to our hearts a friend from whom fate has parted us. A severe wound, which was certain to be a long time in healing, caused me to quit the service, I had paid my debt to my country, and I was determined to devote myself to my son.

Meanwhile, to reestablish my health, which had become precarious since my wound, the doctors ordered me to travel in the South. You were too young for me to take you with me, so I left you in reliable hands and went to Toulouse, to Ma.r.s.eilles, and lastly to Bordeaux.

"I had been in the latter city for some time; my health was entirely restored, and I was even on the point of returning to Paris, when one day I was presented to Monsieur de Montfort, an ex-naval officer, very wealthy, who was a widower, and had an only child, a daughter, then seventeen years old. Adele was her name. It would be hard for me to describe all her charms, all her attractions. Adele was pretty, rather than beautiful; but it was impossible to resist the charms of her face, the sweetness of her expression, the enchanting tone of her voice. I fell madly in love with her, and from the moment that I saw her, I felt that the happiness of my life henceforth depended upon her.

"Monsieur de Montfort was far from having in his manner that charm, that gentleness which attracted everybody to his daughter. He was a man with a stern glance and a harsh manner; his eyes shot fire when they were inflamed by anger; he had retained the brusque, peremptory tone common to the naval officer, which he seemed to think that no one should resist. However, Monsieur de Montfort received me very well; he was almost cordial with me; and whether it was my fortune, my rank, or the wounds which I had received for my country, that led him to regard me with interest, he manifested considerable friendliness for me and urged me to come often to his house.

"This permission was most precious to me; to be with Adele was already my only wish; determined to marry her if her father would bestow her hand upon me, I was most desirous to please her; she seemed to take pleasure in seeing me, and to have some friendly feeling for me; I flattered myself that that feeling of amity would become love; but I was distressed to observe in her a melancholy which nothing could overcome; only in her father's presence, before whom it was easy to see that she always trembled, would Adele try to be cheerful and to take some part in the amus.e.m.e.nts of the company.

"I was never able to be alone with Adele; only before other people was I allowed to see her, to speak with her, to try to make her understand all the love that she had inspired in me; she seemed to be afraid to answer me, and I saw that she shuddered at the slightest glance which Monsieur de Montfort cast upon us.

"Burning with the desire to make my happiness secure, I had been on visiting terms at Monsieur de Montfort's hardly a fortnight, when I declared to him my love for his daughter.

"'I had guessed it'; he replied, with his usual abruptness; 'and if this love of yours had not seemed to me a suitable thing, you may be sure that I should not have allowed you to come to my house so often. I know your family; you are wealthy and well-behaved; you have a son by your first wife, but your fortune is more than sufficient to bring up other children too, and I am sure that Adele will love your son. You are satisfactory to me as a son-in-law, and I give you my daughter's hand.'

"I was happy beyond words. Monsieur de Montfort added: 'I confess that I am not sorry to marry my daughter early. I am not of the proper temperament to be always watching a girl. My Adele is virtuous, but she is pretty. Several young men have seemed to be very much in love with her already, but they did not suit me; I propose that my son-in-law shall be agreeable to me, first of all.'

"'But suppose that one of them had pleased Adele?' I said.

"'Do you suppose that my daughter would love anybody before I had given her permission?' he demanded angrily. 'No, monsieur, no; that cannot be.

A certain Chevalier de Savigny, of a very old family, I believe, seemed to be particularly fond of Adele; but as soon as I became aware of his love I forbade him to come to my house again, for this Savigny is a downright scamp, a rake, a gambler, a libertine. A scandalous business, a duel about a woman, forced him to leave Bordeaux, where he had been for some time. And should such a man be my daughter's husband? No, though she had died of love for him, I would never have consented to that marriage.'

"'But I trust that she did not love this Savigny?' I said, with an anxiety which I could not surmount.

"'I am inclined to believe that she did not dislike him,' replied Monsieur de Montfort; 'that is to say, like all women, Adele was dazzled, surprised, by the rascal's gallant manners and honeyed tone; for, in order to obtain admission to my house, he had succeeded in disguising his vicious tastes at first. But love him! ten thousand frigates! she would never have dared!--However, monsieur, if you do not think my daughter worthy of you, nothing is settled as yet; but in that case I will request you to cease visits which might have some ill effect upon her reputation, and to say nothing more to me about your love.'

"Monsieur de Montfort was a man with whom it was necessary to decide promptly; excessively sensitive upon everything connected with honor as he was, I saw that, if I hesitated a moment, Adele was lost to me. And I was too much in love to abandon the hope of being her husband; even supposing that she had received with pleasure the attentions of Savigny, should I for that reason abandon my suit? Savigny was no longer received at Monsieur de Montfort's house, where I had never seen him. He had left Bordeaux and no one knew what had become of him. Adele was only seventeen; was I not justified in hoping that my attentions, my affection would soon efface from her heart the memories which another might have left there? In short, I made haste to inform Monsieur de Montfort that my only desire was to become his daughter's husband speedily.

"Satisfied with my sentiments, he a.s.sured me that Adele should be my wife within a week; and summoning his daughter, who came to us at once, he quickly informed her of his intentions by ordering her to prepare to give me her hand.

"At that news, Adele turned pale, a sudden trembling shook her from head to foot; I saw her stagger; she stammered some words which I could not understand; I flew to her side, I put my arm about her, and implored her to tell me if the thought of becoming my wife distressed her. But her father was there with his threatening eyes fixed upon her, and she answered under her breath:

"'I will obey my father'; then she withdrew to her apartments.

"Adele's evident confusion had distressed me deeply; but Monsieur de Montfort was the first to speak jestingly of it. He knew but one thing,--obedience to his will.

"'My dear fellow,' he said, 'when a girl is told that she is to be married, isn't it to be expected that she will blush and turn pale and sigh and seem to be deeply moved? That is all customary. But a week after marriage, when a husband has any strength of character, a woman has no more vapors or giddy turns or faintings.'

"I did not propose to take Monsieur de Montfort for my model; I hoped to obtain Adele's affections by gentleness and love. Monsieur de Montfort wished that our marriage should take place at a country house of his in the suburbs of Bordeaux. He went there at once with his daughter; I remained a few days in the city to settle my affairs and make the customary purchases; then I joined my new family.

"I found Adele as sad as ever, and as terrified before her father.

During the four days which preceded our union, I flattered myself that I should have more than one opportunity to be alone with my future bride; but Monsieur de Montfort was almost always present, he left us very little; and when, being alone with Adele, I spoke to her of my love, she sighed, lowered her eyes and did not answer me.

"Our wedding-day arrived; Adele, whose pallor and distress made her even lovelier in my eyes, walked with me to the altar. As we were about to take the oath which bound us to each other, I saw her tremble and look at her father. At last we were united, and I received her hand, which trembled in mine. I should have been at the very summit of felicity, if my wife's melancholy had not secretly worried me; but I say again, I loved her with an idolatrous love, and I still flattered myself that I could make her love me in return.

"Our wedding-day pa.s.sed quietly, without festivities; only a few friends and neighbors spent it with us. It seemed to me that I could see Adele's sadness and depression increase momentarily; but when I asked her if she were suffering, she answered gently that there was nothing the matter. The hour to retire arrived. Adele went to our apartment, but I was obliged to remain a few moments longer with the guests. At last, everyone went away, and I hastened to join my wife.

"They had given us for our quarters a very pleasant wing looking on the garden, and separated from the other parts of the building. I dismissed the servants and was soon in my room, where I expected to find my wife; but it was empty. Surprised not to find Adele there, I went through the adjoining rooms, looking for her and calling her; but I soon acquired the certainty that she was not in the building. Her absence disturbed me; I noticed that the small door opening into the garden was ajar, and I concluded that Adele, feeling indisposed, had gone out into the garden for a breath of fresh air. I instantly went there in search of her.

"The garden was immense; I walked hastily along, seeking to pierce the darkness in the paths which surrounded me. There was a heavy weight at my heart, and my anxiety became greater every moment. I was approaching a beautiful pond at the foot of an extensive lawn, when I fancied that I distinguished the figure of a woman kneeling on the edge of the water. I quickened my pace, but before I reached the bank, she whom I had seen had hurled herself into the water. I saw my Adele's white garments floating on the surface. I was soon beside her, I succeeded in grasping her, and in swimming back to the sh.o.r.e with her; taking her in my arms, I carried her to our apartment, where, without calling anyone, I instantly bestowed on her every attention demanded by her condition.

"Adele had been taken from the water so quickly that I had no fear for her life; my efforts were soon rewarded; she opened her eyes and saw me beside her, moistening with my tears the hands which I had warmed in mine.

"'You saved me!' she exclaimed, with an expression of the most profound regret.

"'Yes,' I said to her, 'yes, heaven permitted me to arrive in time to bring you back to life. But who will save me now from my despair? Who will allay the remorse which I feel for having induced you to contract a union which causes you such horror? Do you detest me so, Adele? Do I inspire you with such insurmountable aversion that you'd rather kill yourself than be mine?'

"Adele seemed touched by my excessive despair; her eyes filled with tears, and she answered, while sobbing:

"'No, I do not hate you; indeed I have the most affectionate friendship for you; but alas! I could not be your wife, and yet I had to obey my father, of whom I am so afraid, whose anger is so terrible! Ah! he would have killed me if I had resisted his will; I preferred to kill myself after obeying him. In pity's name, forgive me and let me die!'

"The unhappy creature threw herself at my feet and held out her hands in entreaty; I raised her and implored her to be calm, to look upon me only as a brother, as a friend, and to conceal from me no longer the cause of her grief.

"'You wish it,' she said; 'well, I will obey you. This confession is very painful; it would have been easier for me to die, but I must undergo this punishment, too. As I have told you, I am unworthy to bear the name of your wife. Another man has my love. He told me that he would die rather than abandon me; and yet, alas! he has gone; and I, I had the weakness to believe in his words! I hoped that my father would consent to our union; but, far from that, he harshly refused my hand to the man who already called me his wife; and I, when I allowed my father to see that I shared the love of him whom he turned away from his house--Ah! if you knew how terrible his anger was! I realized that he would kill me if he suspected my fault and I did not wish to die by my father's hand.--Yes, I am guilty, I am ruined, and I bear in my womb the fruit of my dishonor!'

"You can judge of the effect produced upon me by such a confidence; jealous rage created a revolution in my mind. I longed to kill Savigny, or to die at his hands; for although she had not named her seducer, I could not doubt that it was that man, of whom Monsieur de Montfort had spoken to me, who had abused Adele's innocence.--While, giving way to the first outburst of my rage, I strode rapidly back and forth, swearing to be revenged, the unfortunate creature who had made so painful a confession had lost consciousness again. She lay on the floor, pale and lifeless. That sight recalled me to myself, and I blamed myself for my barbarity; for doubtless, after the confession of her wrongdoing, Adele had heard the threats inspired by my despair, and I had added to her sufferings. I took her in my arms; as I gazed upon her sweet and lovely features, I promised to do my utmost to restore tranquillity, at least, if not happiness, to her heart. By my persistent efforts I restored her to consciousness once more; but she dared not look me in the face, she feared to read there an expression of contempt; she thought that I would not forgive her for giving me her hand when her honor was sullied, and she said again, in a heartrending tone, that there was nothing for her to do but to die.