Part 30 (1/2)

A rich and pa.s.sionate young man like Edouard was a windfall to Madame de Geran, who, whatever Dufresne might say, was not so cruel as she chose to appear. If Edouard had taken the trouble to make inquiries concerning the young widow, he would have learned that his divinity had a more than equivocal reputation; that she had had intimate liaisons with a great Russian n.o.ble, a stout baronet, a contractor and a dealer in cashmere shawls; that her house was the rendezvous of young rakes, schemers and gamblers; and lastly, that no one had ever found at the Ministry of War the name of the general whose widow she claimed to be.

Edouard knew nothing of all this. He believed that he possessed a woman who gave herself to him by virtue of the bond of sympathy that drew them together; he was as proud as a peac.o.c.k over a triumph which twenty other men had won before him; and he went into ecstasies over charms which he considered far superior to his wife's; for a mistress always has a softer skin, a firmer breast and a smaller foot than a wife; which is not true three-fourths of the time; but the wives take their revenge by allowing connoisseurs to admire them.

So Edouard pa.s.sed the day caressing the soft skin, the firm breast and the tiny foot of Madame de Geran, who allowed him to do as he chose because she could not resist the force of her love and the voice of her heart; at all events, that is what she told him as she received his caresses. Time pa.s.ses very swiftly in such pleasant occupation. Edouard entirely forgot his house and his business. He knew that night had arrived only by the appearance of a dozen or more persons, habitues of the fascinating widow's house, who came there every evening to play cards.

Edouard would have taken his leave, but Madame de Geran objected; she desired to keep him all the evening; moreover she owed him his revenge at ecarte. Edouard remained and took his seat at a card table opposite his beloved, who played ecarte with bewitching grace, as he had good reason to know.

Dufresne appeared at Madame de Geran's during the evening; he seemed surprised to find his friend there. Edouard was then playing with a man whom he did not know. His dear widow had abandoned the game because she played with extraordinary good luck, and did not choose, she said, to take advantage of Murville's unlucky vein. He was no more fortunate however with the little man who had taken her seat; he lost constantly, but would not stop playing, because he hoped to recoup.

Dufresne stood facing Edouard and scrutinized him in silence. A secret satisfaction was reflected on his features; he detected in his friend all the symptoms of a pa.s.sion which, when once fully aroused, would know no bounds. At sight of Murville's discomposed face, his swollen veins, his heavy breathing, it was easy to judge of the effect that the game produced on him. But, recalling the fact that the imprudent young man was the bearer of a considerable sum, and as he did not propose that it should pa.s.s into the hands of another, Dufresne went to Edouard and advised him in an undertone not to play any more. But his advice was not heeded; Murville was already experiencing the ascendancy of the fatal pa.s.sion to which he had yielded; moreover, obstinacy and vanity prevented him from leaving the field.

”At all events,” said Dufresne, ”if you insist on continuing to play, give me your wallet and what it still contains; you have enough money in front of you, especially as you are playing in hard luck; do not take the risk of losing such a large amount in one evening.”

From anybody else the counsel would not have been listened to; but Dufresne had acquired such empire over Murville that he unhesitatingly handed him his wallet, from which he had already taken several bank notes.

”Here,” he said in a broken voice, trying to conceal the keen emotion caused by the loss of his money, ”take it. And here is the key to my apartment; go there and wait for me.”

Dufresne did not wait to have this suggestion repeated. He went to Murville's during the evening; but the servants were so accustomed to seeing him that they paid no attention to him. He waited for Edouard far into the night, alone in his room; and at last, when he found that he did not return, he conceived the audacious scheme of stealing into Adeline's bedroom when she was asleep. It was easy for him to do, as he had noticed where the key was kept; and we have seen how he carried out his undertaking.

As for Edouard, luck was not favorable to him. He lost all the money that he had retained, and three thousand francs more on credit. To console him, Madame de Geran kept him alone to supper. She a.s.sured him that Chevalier Desfleurets, who had won his money, was a most honorable man who would give him his revenge whenever he wished and that, as luck must turn in the end, he might expect to recover his losses sooner or later. Such convincing arguments caused Edouard to forget the petty loss he had sustained. He pa.s.sed the night with his fair enslaver, who intoxicated him with love and pleasure; and it was very late when he fell asleep in her arms. He woke the next morning, poorer by ten thousand francs; that was rather a high price to pay for the favors he had obtained; but love does not calculate.

XXI

THE ROULETTE TABLE

Adeline remained for a long time crushed beneath the burden of her suffering; and several hours after Dufresne's departure, she was still sitting, half naked, in a corner of her room, having to cover her only the clothes which she had hurriedly seized, and which she still held pressed against her breast.

It was broad daylight; the servants were going and coming in the house.

Adeline arose at last and dressed herself mechanically; then sank back on the chair she had left; she no longer had any plans, desires, or hopes; she suffered, but she had ceased to think.

There came a light tap at her door; she roused herself from her depression, recalled what had happened, and awoke once more to the consciousness of her misery. She started to open the door, but paused near the threshold, detained by a sudden thought: suppose it were her husband! She felt that she could not endure his glance! she thought that he would read her shame upon her brow! Poor Adeline! you were not guilty and yet you trembled. What a contrast to what we see every day in society!

She heard a voice; it was her maid's, asking her mistress if she might come in. Adeline took courage and opened the door.

”I beg pardon, madame,” said the servant, ”but I was anxious about your health; it is very late, but you have not rung for me and you did not come down to breakfast.”

”Is it late, Marie? Has Monsieur Murville come in?”

”Yes, madame, monsieur came in a little while ago; he went to his room for a moment, then went right away again.”

”He has gone out, you say?”

”Yes, madame.”

Adeline breathed more freely; she felt less agitated; for now she dreaded the presence of the man for whom she had waited impatiently a few hours before.

Marie glanced at her mistress; she saw that she was pale and changed, and she sighed and pitied her; she thought that her husband's conduct was the cause of Madame Murville's grief. Servants are the first to criticise their masters' conduct; they see everything, nothing escapes them; no man is a hero to his valet, and very few husbands are faithful in their servants' eyes.

”Was madame sick in the night?” asked Marie at last in an undertone.