Part 18 (2/2)
As for Vauquelas, he glanced from one to the other in evident anger and astonishment. The presence of the soldiers, and the thought of the suspicions to which he--ardent patriot though he was--might be exposed on account of this stranger's arrest in his house irritated him not a little. He was about to vent his wrath and indignation upon Philip when the sergeant in command interposed, and addressing the young man, said, harshly;
”What are you doing in this house, you rascal? Who are you?”
Philip attempted to reply, but Vauquelas did not give him time.
”Who is he?” he exclaimed. ”It is easy to answer that question. Some enemy of the Republic, you may be sure, who has sought shelter in my house at the risk of compromising the honor of this young girl, and my reputation as well.”
Dolores trembled; then sacrificing, not without a terrible effort, her maidenly delicacy and modesty she said: ”You are mistaken, Citizen Vauquelas. This man is my husband!”
”Your husband! Are you married?”
”I had a special reason for keeping the fact a secret from every one.”
”But Coursegol--”
”Even he is ignorant of it,” answered Dolores, with downcast eyes.
”Married! married!” repeated Vauquelas mechanically, while Philip drew nearer to Dolores and, in a voice audible to her alone, murmured:
”Ah! cruel one, had you uttered those words sooner, we should not be here now.”
Dolores made no response. She cast a beseeching look upon Vauquelas. At a word from him the soldiers would have departed; but he remembered the history of Dolores which Coursegol had confided to him, and he said to himself that the adopted daughter of the late Marquis de Chamondrin would not be likely to marry other than a n.o.bleman, and that this n.o.bleman must be an implacable enemy to the new order of things, and consequently one of those men whom the Committee of Public Safety were so relentlessly pursuing. That such a person should be found in his house augured ill for his patriotism and might cost him his influence over Robespierre, so it was necessary to strike a crus.h.i.+ng blow if he wished to emerge from this ordeal unscathed.
”Why have you concealed your marriage from me?” he inquired, turning to Dolores.
”For purely personal reasons.”
”And why does your husband steal into my house like a robber, instead of entering by the door?”
”Because we wished to keep our marriage a secret.”
”All this is not very clear,” remarked the sergeant; then addressing Philip, he demanded:
”What is your name, and from whence do you come?”
And seeing Philip hesitate, the man continued:
”The citizen and this young woman will follow us to the station-house.
They can explain matters to the officials there; and if no blame attaches to them, they will be immediately set at liberty.”
”Yes, yes, take them away,” cried Vauquelas, glad of any decision that would remove the soldiers from his house.
Then Dolores comprehended that the falsehood to which she had resorted had not only failed to save Philip but had probably cost her her own life. For herself, she did not care. She had long ago sacrificed for his sake that which was a thousand times dearer than life; and now her only regret was for him. But Philip would not accept the sacrifice. When he saw that both Dolores and himself were to be placed under arrest, he exclaimed:
”This young girl has uttered a falsehood. She did it, probably, to save a stranger whom she would have forgotten in a few hours. I am not her husband, and that I have been found in her room is simply due to the fact that I took refuge here a few moments ago from a pursuer. I am the Marquis de Chamondrin. I am an emigre and a conspirator!”
”Ah, he is lost! he is lost!” murmured Dolores.
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