Part 37 (1/2)
”Well, lieutenant,” said Lefloch, delighted at his master's joy, ”did I not tell you? Good wind during the pa.s.sage always brings good news upon landing.”
That night, while ”The Saint Louis” was rocking lazily over her anchors, was the first night, since Daniel had heard of Count Ville-Handry's marriage, that he slept with that sweet sleep given by hope. He was only aroused by the noise of the people who came in the quarantine boat; and, when he came on deck, he found that there was nothing any longer to prevent his going on sh.o.r.e. The men had been actively engaged ever since early in the morning, to set things right aloft and below, so as to ”dress” ”The Saint Louis;” for every s.h.i.+p, when it enters port, is decked out gayly, and carefully conceals all traces of injuries she has suffered, like the carrier-pigeon, which, upon returning to his nest after a storm, dries and smooths his feathers in the sun.
Soon the anchors were got up again; and the great clock on the wharf struck twelve, when Daniel jumped on the wharf at Ma.r.s.eilles, followed by his faithful man, and dazzled by the most brilliant sunlight. Ah! when he felt his foot once more standing on the soil of France, whence a vile plot had driven him long ago, his eyes flashed, and a threatening gesture boded ill to his enemies. It looked as if he were saying to them,- ”Here I am, and my vengeance will be terrible!”
Neither his joy nor his excitement, however, could make him forget the apprehensions of Papa Ravinet, although he thought they were eccentric, and very much exaggerated. That a spy should be waiting for him in the harbor, concealed in this busy, noisy crowd, to follow his track, and report his minutest actions,-this seemed to him, if not impossible, at least very improbable.
Nevertheless, he determined to ascertain the fact. Instead, therefore, of simply following the wharf, of going up Canebiere Street, and turning to the right on his way to the Hotel du Luxembourg, he went through several narrow streets, turning purposely every now and then. When he reached the hotel, he was compelled to acknowledge that the old dealer had acted wisely.
A big fellow, dark complexioned, and wicked looking, had followed the same route as he, always keeping some thirty yards behind him. The man who thus watched him, with his nose in the air and his hands in his pockets, hardly suspected the danger which he ran by practising his profession within reach of Lefloch. The idea of being tracked put the worthy sailor into a red-hot fury; and he proposed nothing less than to ”run foul” of the spy, and make an end of him for good.
”I can do it in a second,” he a.s.sured his master. ”I just go up to him, without making him aware of my presence. I seize him by his cravat; I give him two turns, like that-and good-night. He won't track anybody again.”
Daniel had to use all his authority to keep him back, and found it still harder to convince him of the necessity to let the scamp not know that he had been discovered.
”Besides,” he added, ”it is not proved yet that we are really watched; it may be merely a curious coincidence.”
”That may be so,” growled Lefloch.
But they could no longer doubt, when, just before dinner, as they looked out of the window, they saw the same man pa.s.s the hotel. At night they saw him again at the depot; and he took the same express train of 9.45 for Paris, in which they went. They recognized him in the refreshment-room at Lyons. And the first person they saw as they got out at Paris was the same man.
But Daniel did not mind the spy. He had long since forgotten him. He thought of nothing but the one fact that he was in the same town now with Henrietta. Too impatient to wait for his trunks, he left Lefloch in charge, and jumped into a cab, promising the driver two dollars if he would go as fast as he could to the Hotel du Louvre. For such pay, the lean horses of any cab become equal to English thoroughbreds; and in three-quarters of an hour Daniel was installed in his room at the hotel, and waited with anxiety the return of the waiter. Now that he was really here, a thousand doubts a.s.sailed him: ”Had he understood Papa Ravinet correctly? Had the good old man given him the right directions? Might they not, excited as they both were, have easily made a mistake?”
”In less than a quarter of an hour after your arrival,” Papa Ravinet had said to Daniel, ”you shall have news.”
Less than a quarter of an hour! It seemed to Daniel as if he had been an eternity in this room. Thinking that Henrietta might possibly occupy a room on the same floor with him, on the same side of the house, that he might even be separated from her only by a part.i.tion-wall, he felt like cursing Papa Ravinet, when there came a knock at the door.
”Come in!” he cried.
A waiter appeared, and handed him a visiting-card, on which was written, ”Mrs. Bertolle, third story. No. 5.”
As the waiter did not instantly disappear, Daniel said almost furiously,- ”Did I not tell you it was all right?”
He did not want the man to see his excitement, the most intense excitement he had ever experienced in all his life. His hands shook; he felt a burning sensation in his throat; his knees gave way under him. He looked at himself in the gla.s.s, and was startled; he looked deadly pale.
”Am I going to be ill?” he thought.
On the table stood a carafe with water. He filled a large gla.s.s, and drank it at one draught; this made him feel better, and he went out. But, once outside, he was so overcome, that he lost his way in the long pa.s.sages and interminable staircases, in spite of the directions hung up at every turn, and had finally to ask a waiter, who pointed out a door which he had pa.s.sed half a dozen times, and said,- ”That is No. 5.”
He knocked gently, and the door opened instantly, as if somebody had been standing behind it, ready to open it promptly. As he entered, he tottered, and, almost in a mist, saw on his right side Papa Ravinet and an old lady, then, farther back, near the window, Henrietta.
He uttered a cry, and went forward. But as quickly she bounded to meet him, casting both arms around his neck, and leaning upon his bosom, sobbing and stammering,- ”Daniel, Daniel! At last!”
XXIX.
It was exactly two years since Daniel and Henrietta had been parted by the foulest treachery,-two years since that fatal evening when the stupidly ironical voice of Count Ville-Handry had suddenly made itself heard near them under the old trees of the garden of the palace.
What had not happened since then? What unheard-of, most improbable events; what trials, what tribulations, what sufferings! They had endured all that the human heart can endure. There was not a day, so to say, in these two years, that had not brought them its share of grief and sorrow. How often both of them had despaired of the future! How many times they had sighed for death!
And yet, after all these storms, here they were reunited once more, in unspeakable happiness, forgetting every thing,-their enemies and the whole world, the anxieties of the past, and the uncertainty of the future.
They remained thus for a long time, holding each other closely, overcome with happiness, unable, as yet, to believe in the reality for which they had sighed so long, unable to utter a word, laughing and weeping in one breath.
Now and then they would move apart a little, throwing back the head in order the better to look at each other; then swiftly they would fold each other again closely in their arms, as if they were afraid they might be separated anew.
”How they love each other!” whispered Mrs. Bertolle in her brother's ear,-”the poor young people!”
And big tears rolled down her cheeks, while the old dealer, not less touched, but showing his emotion differently, closed his hands fiercely, and said,- ”All right, all right! They will have to pay for everything.”
Daniel, in the meantime, was recovering himself gradually; and reason once more got the better of his feelings. He led Henrietta to an arm- chair at the corner of the fireplace, and sitting down in front of her, after having taken her hands in his own, he asked her to give him a faithful account of the two terrible years that had just come to an end.
She had to tell him everything,-her humiliations in her father's house, the insults she had endured, the wicked slanders by which her honor had been tainted, the incomprehensible blindness of the count, the surly provocations of her step-mother, the horrible attentions of Sir Thorn; in fine, the whole abominable plot which had been formed, as she found out too late, for the purpose of driving her to seek safety in flight, and to give herself up to Maxime de Brevan.
Trembling with rage, livid, his eyes bloodshot, Daniel suddenly let go Henrietta's hands, and exclaimed in a half-smothered voice,- ”Ah, Henrietta! your father deserved-Wretched old man! to abandon his child to the mercy of such miserable wretches!”
And, when the poor girl looked at him imploringly, he replied,- ”Be it so! I will say nothing more of the count. He is your father, and that is enough.”
Then he added coldly,- ”But that M. Thomas Elgin, I swear by G.o.d he shall die by my hand; and as to Sarah Brandon”- He was interrupted by the old dealer, who tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and said with an indescribable smile,- ”You shall not do that honor to the Hon. M. Elgin, M. Champcey. People like him do not die by the sword of honest men.”
In the meantime Henrietta had resumed her history, and spoke of her surprise and amazement when she reached that bare room in Water Street, with its scanty second-hand furniture.
”And yet, Henrietta,” here broke in Daniel, ”I had handed that man all my money to be placed at your disposal in case of any accident.”
”What!” exclaimed the old dealer, ”you had”- He did not finish, but looked at the young officer with an utterly amazed air, as if he were an improbable phenomenon, never seen before.
Daniel shook his head sadly.
”Yes,” he said, ”I know it was an insane thing. But it was less insane than to intrust my betrothed to his care. I believed in the friends.h.i.+p of that man.”
”And besides,” remarked Mrs. Bertolle, ”how could you suppose such atrocious treachery? There are crimes which honest hearts never even conceive.”
Henrietta continued, describing her sensations when she found herself for the first time in her life hara.s.sed by want, dest.i.tution, hunger. But, when she came to the disgusting ill-treatment she received at the hands of the concierge's wife, Daniel cried out,- ”Stop!”
And, fearfully excited, he asked her,- ”Did I hear right? Did you say the concierge of that house in Water Street, and his wife, were called Cheva.s.sat?”
”Yes, why?”
”Because Maxime de Brevan's real name is Justin Cheva.s.sat.”
Papa Ravinet started up as if he had been shot.
”What,” he said, ”you know that?”
”I learned it three months ago. I also know that my friend, the proud n.o.bleman, Maxime de Brevan, who has been received in the most aristocratic salons of Paris, has been a galley-slave, condemned for forgery.”