Part 53 (1/2)
”Ah, the unfortunate boy,” exclaimed John. ”He is out of his mind. It is certain to me that he will carry out his fatal threat.”
”Oh, heaven,” added Madam Lebrenn, drying her eyes, ”to think that to-day we saved him from death, and that to-morrow--oh, it is horrible!
But what can one do in such an extremity? What can we make up our minds on? What is your idea?”
”We can and ought at least to put to profit the twenty-four hours and over which you have succeeded in winning from him, dear sister,” replied Lebrenn. ”I have before now not wished to intrude in this painful affair. But Oliver has a great affection for me. I have some influence over him; his heart is good, his spirit unblemished, his character open.
I can appeal to his good parts, I can endeavor to exalt his already so ardent patriotism, which even his mad pa.s.sion has not been able to cool.
I shall prove to Oliver that he would commit a crime against the Republic, against his mother country, in sacrificing his life instead of devoting it to her protection when she is menaced by foreign invasion.”
”Ah, brother, do you then believe that I have not thought of resurrecting that soul, now crushed and disheartened? Alas, my efforts were unavailing. I know the child better than you, my friends. Listen to me--this is the hour of a cruel confession, brother. You know what part Maurice, the sergeant in the French Guards, the unfortunate victim of Monsieur Plouernel, played in my life.”
”Aye, and I know further, or I believe I know, that Oliver is Maurice's brother.” Then, in answer to a gesture of surprise on Victoria's part, ”It is to Charlotte's penetration that I owe the discovery.”
”Oliver is, indeed, the brother of Maurice, and by one of those inexplicable mysteries of nature, the physical resemblance between the two is even perhaps less remarkable than their mental resemblance. My knowledge of Maurice's nature has given me the key to Oliver's. Woe is me!” cried Victoria in heartrending tones. ”In seeing, in hearing the one, I thought I saw and heard the other! The same voice, the same look!
How many times, entranced in memories, have I surprised myself moved, my heart beating for this living phantom of the only man I ever loved in my sad life!”
”You love Oliver--or rather in him you continue to love Maurice. Unhappy sister!”
”Sister, dear,” said Charlotte, warmly seizing the two hands of Victoria, who stood mute and overcome, bowing her face which was empurpled with shame and flooded with tears, ”do you suppose that we could breathe one word of censure against you? Your new agonies inspire but the tenderest compa.s.sion. Ah, if our sisterly affection were capable of any growth, it would increase before this touching proof of the persistence of the single love of your life. Do we not know, alas, that for you to love Oliver is but for you to continue faithful to Maurice?”
”And still this love, although as pure as the former one, would be shameful, revolting,” murmured Victoria.
”Victoria,” interposed John, unable to restrain his tears, ”do not abandon yourself to despair. Let us face the reality coolly, and regulate our conduct accordingly.”
”Helas, the reality!” broke from Victoria. ”This it is: No human power can prevent the suicide of Oliver, if I do not promise to be his wife--or his mistress. The only alternatives are my shame or his death.”
Victoria's words were followed by silence for several minutes.
”Woe is us,” at length resumed John, the first to speak. ”Aye, fate has shut us in an iron circle. And still, despite myself, some dim hope supports me. Some inspiration will come to us.”
”Yes,” replied Charlotte, ”I also hope, because our sister Victoria is a n.o.ble creature; because Oliver is gifted with generous qualities. I believe it will be possible to discover a solution honorable for all of us.”
”Oh, dear wife,” exclaimed John, ”how your words do comfort me. Aye, aye, every situation, desperate as it may seem, is capable of an honorable solution. Beloved sister, raise that bowed forehead. Let us have faith in the unison of n.o.ble hearts.”
Suddenly Victoria lifted her head, transfigured, radiant; and pa.s.sionately embracing her brother's wife, she cried:
”You spoke sooth, Charlotte. We shall come out of this situation with honor.” Then, clasping John with redoubled ardor, she continued: ”Ah, brother, what a weight of fear has been lifted from my heart! To-morrow you shall know all. To-morrow that circle of iron shall be broken which now hems us in. A happy path opens itself before me.”
The following morning, as John Lebrenn was leaving his house for the shop, he was met in the courtyard by the servant Gertrude, who drew from her pocket an addressed envelope.
”Mademoiselle Victoria gave me this letter for you, Monsieur John.”
”My sister has gone out, then?”
”Yes, sir. She left at daybreak with Oliver. He had a traveling-case on his shoulder.”
”My sister has left us!” stammered John, in amazement. Then he hastily broke the envelope he had just received from Gertrude, and read as follows:
Adieu, brother! Embrace your wife tenderly for me.