Part 40 (2/2)
”This one was a handsome young man, almost a child yet, kind, generous, and chivalrous. He was an orphan, and came up from his province, his heart full of illusions, and in his pockets his entire fortune,-a sum of five hundred thousand francs. His name was Charles de Kergrist.
”Maxime managed to bring him to the house in Circus Street. He saw Sarah, and was dazzled. He loved her, and was lost.
”Ah! The poor fellow did not last long. At the end of five months, his half million was in the hands of Sarah. And, when he had not a cent left, she well-nigh forced him to write her three forged drafts, swearing, that, on the day on which they became due, she would take them up herself. But when the day came, and he called in Circus Street, he was received as Malgat had been received. They told him that the forgery had been discovered: that suit had been brought; that he was ruined. They offered him, also, money to flee.
”Poor Kergrist! They had not miscalculated. Descended from a family in which a keen sense of honor had been hereditary for many generations, he did not hesitate. As soon as he left the house, he hanged himself on Sarah's window, thinking that he would thus hold up to public censure the infamous creature who had led him to commit a crime.
”Poor child! They had deceived him. He was not ruined. The forgery had never been discovered; the drafts had never been used at all. A careful investigation revealed nothing against Sarah Brandon; but the scandals of the suicide diminished her prestige. She felt it; and, giving up her dreams of greatness, she thought of marrying a fool who was immensely wealthy, M. Wilkie Gordon, when Sir Thorn spoke to her of Count Ville-Handry.
”In fortune, name, and age, the count was exactly what Sarah had dreamed of so often. She threw herself upon him.
”How the old gentleman was drawn to Circus Street; how he was surrounded, insnared, intoxicated, and finally made a husband-all that you know but too well, M. Champcey. But what you do not know is the fact that this marriage brought discord into the camp. M. de Brevan would not hear of it; and it was the hope he had of breaking it up, which made him speak to you so frankly of Sarah Brandon. When you went to ask his advice, he was on bad terms with her: she had turned him off, and refused to pay him any money. And he was so mortally offended, that he would have betrayed her to the courts even, if he had known how to do it without inculpating himself.
”You were the very person to reconcile them again, inasmuch as you gave Maxime an opportunity of rendering Sarah Brandon a great service.
”He did not then antic.i.p.ate that she would ever fall in love with you, and that she, in her turn, would have to succ.u.mb to one of those desperate pa.s.sions which she had so often kindled in others, and used for her own advantage. This discovery made him furious; and Sarah's love, and Maxime's rage, will explain to you the double plot by which you were victimized. Sarah, who loved you, wanted to get rid of Henrietta, who was your betrothed: Maxime, stung by jealousy, wanted you to die.”
Visibly overcome by fatigue, Papa Ravinet fell back in his chair, and remained silent for more than five minutes. Then he seemed to make one more effort, and went on,- ”Now, let us sum up the whole. I know how Sarah, Sir Thorn, and Mrs. Brian have gone to work to rob Count Ville-Handry, and to ruin him. I know what they have done with the millions which they report were lost in speculations; and I have the evidence in my hand. Therefore, I can ruin them, without reference to their other crimes. Crochard's affidavit alone suffices to ruin M. de Brevan. The two Cheva.s.sats, husband and wife, have caught themselves by keeping the four thousand francs you sent to Miss Henrietta. We have them safe, the wretches! The hour of vengeance has come at last.”
Henrietta did not let him conclude: she interrupted him, saying,- ”And my father, sir, my father?”
”M. Champcey will save him, madam.”
Daniel had risen, deeply moved, and now asked,- ”What am I to do?”
”You must call on the Countess Sarah, and look as if you had forgotten all that has happened,-as far as she is concerned, Miss Henrietta.”
The young officer blushed all over, and stammered painfully,- ”Ah, I cannot play that part! I would not be able.”
But Henrietta stopped him. Laying her hand on his shoulder, and looking deep into the eyes of her betrothed, as if to search the very depths of his conscience, she said,- ”Have you reasons for hesitating?”
He hung his head, and said,- ”I shall go.”
x.x.xII.
It struck two when Daniel jumped out of a carriage before No. 79 in Peletier Street, where the offices of the Pennsylvania Petroleum Company were now, and where Count Ville-Handry lived at present.
Never in his life had he felt so embarra.s.sed, or so dissatisfied with himself. In vain had Papa Ravinet and Mrs. Bertolle brought up all possible arguments to convince him, that, with a woman like Sarah Brandon, all reprisals were fair; he would not be convinced.
Unfortunately, he could not refuse to go without risking the peace of his Henrietta, her confidence, and her whole happiness; so he went as bravely as he could.
A clerk whom he asked told him that the president was in his rooms,-in the third story on the left. He went up. The maid who came to open the door recognized him. It was the same Clarissa who had betrayed him. When he asked for the count she invited him in. She took him through an anteroom, dark, and fragrant with odors from the kitchen; and then, opening a door, she said;- ”Please walk in!”
Before an immense table, covered with papers, sat Count Ville-Handry. He had grown sadly old. His lower lip hung down, giving him a painful expression of weakness of mind; and his watery eyes looked almost senile. Still his efforts to look young had not been abandoned. He was rouged and dyed as carefully as ever. When he recognized Daniel, he pushed back his papers; and offering him his hand, as if they had parted the day before, he said,- ”Ah, here you are back again among us! Upon my word, I am very glad to see you! We know what you have been doing out there; for my wife sent me again and again to the navy department to see if there were any news of you. And you have become an officer of the Legion of Honor! You ought to be pleased.”
”Fortune has favored, me, count.”
”Alas! I am sorry I cannot say as much for myself,” replied the latter with a sigh.
”You must be surprised,” he continued, ”to find me living in such a dog's kennel, I who formerly-But so it goes. 'The ups and downs of speculations,' says Sir Thorn. Look here, my dear Daniel, let me give you a piece of advice: never speculate in industrial enterprises! Nowadays it is mere gambling, furious gambling; and everybody cheats. If you stake a dollar, you are in for everything. That is my story, and I thought I would enrich my country by a new source of revenue. From the first day on which I emitted shares, speculators have gotten hold of them, and have crushed me, till my whole fortune has been spent in useless efforts to keep them up. And yet Sir Thorn says I have fought as bravely on this slippery ground as my ancestors did in the lists.”
Every now and then the poor old man pa.s.sed his hand over his face as if trying to drive away painful thoughts; and then he went on in a different tone of voice,- ”And yet I am far from complaining. My misfortunes have been the source of the purest and highest happiness for me. It is to them I owe the knowledge of the boundless devotion of a beloved wife; they have taught me how dearly Sarah loves me. I alone can tell what treasures are hid in that angelic heart, which they dared to calumniate. Ah! I think I can hear her now, when I told her one evening how embarra.s.sed I had become in my finances.
”'To have concealed that from me!' she exclaimed,-'from me, your wife: that was wrong!' And the very next day she showed her sublime courage. She sold her diamonds to bring me the proceeds, and gave up to me her whole fortune. And, since we are living here, she goes out on foot, like a simple citizen's wife; and more than once I have caught her preparing our modest meals with her own hands.”
Tears were flowing down the furrowed cheeks, leaving ghastly lines on the rouged and whitened surface.
”And I,” he resumed in an accent of deepest despair,-”I could not reward her for such love and so many sacrifices. How did I compensate her for being my only consolation, my joy, my sole happiness in life! I ruined her; I impoverished her! If I were to die to-morrow, she would be penniless.”
Daniel trembled.
”Ah, count,” he exclaimed, ”don't speak of dying! People like you live a hundred years.”
But the old man lowered his voice, and said,- ”You see, I have not told you all yet. But you are my friend; and I know I can open my heart to you. I did not have the-the-cleverness to overcome all the restrictions which hamper this kind of business. I was imprudent, in spite of all Sir Thorn's warnings. To-morrow there will be a meeting of the stockholders; and, if they do not grant me what I shall have to ask of them, I may be in trouble. And, when a man calls himself Count Ville-Handry, rather than appear in a police-court-you know what I mean!”
He was interrupted by one of the clerks, who brought him a letter. He read it, and said,- ”Tell them I am coming.”
Then, turning again to Daniel, he added,- ”I must leave you; but the countess is at home, and she would never forgive me if I did not take you in to present your respects to her. Come! But be careful and don't say a word of my troubles. It would kill her.”
And, before Daniel could recover from his bewilderment, the count had opened a door, and pushed him into the room, saying,- ”Sarah, M. Champcey.”
Sarah started up as if she had received an electric shock. Her husband had left them; but, even if he had been still in the room, she would probably not have been any more able to control herself.
”You!” she cried, ”Daniel, my Daniel!”
And turning to Mrs. Brian, who was sitting by the window, she said,- ”Leave us.”
”Your conduct is perfectly shocking, Sarah!” began the grim lady. But Sarah, as harshly as if she had been speaking to a servant, cut her short, saying,- ”You are in the way, and I beg you will leave the room.”
Mrs. Brian did so without saying a word; and the countess sank into an arm-chair, as if overcome by a sudden good fortune which she was not able to endure, looking intensely at Daniel, who stood in the centre of the room like a statue.
She had on a simple black merino dress; she wore no jewelry; but her marvellous, fatal beauty seemed to be all the more dazzling. The years had pa.s.sed over her without leaving any more traces on her than the spring breeze leaves on a half-opened rose. Her hair still shone with its golden flashes; her rosy lips smiled sweetly; and her velvet eyes caressed you still, till hot fire seemed to run in your veins.
Once before Daniel had been thus alone with her; and, as the sensations he then felt rose in his mind, he began to tremble violently. Then, thinking of his purpose in coming here, and the treacherous part he was about to act, he felt a desire to escape.
It was she who broke the charm. She began, saying,- ”You know, I presume, the misfortunes that have befallen us. Your betrothed, Henrietta? Has the count told you?”
Daniel had taken a chair. He replied,- ”The count has said nothing about his daughter.”
”Well, then, my saddest presentiments have been fulfilled. Unhappy girl! I did what I could to keep her in the right way. But she fell, step by step, and finally so low, that one day, when a ray of sense fell upon her mind, she went and killed herself.”
It was done. Sarah had overcome the last hesitation which Daniel still felt. Now he was in the right temper to meet cunning with cunning. He answered in an admirably-feigned tone of indifference,- ”Ah!”
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