Part 61 (2/2)

He regarded her with quick black eyes that both confided and besought.

Avery's heart was beating in great throbs, she felt strangely breathless and uncertain of herself.

”Where do you come from?” she said. ”Who are you?”

But she knew the answer before it came. ”I am Victor, _madame_,--Victor Lagarde. I am the valet of _Monsieur Pierre_ almost since he was born. He calls me his _bonne_!” A brief smile touched his worried countenance and was gone. ”And now I am come to you, _madame_,--not by his desire. _Mais non_, he does not know even that I am here. But because he is in great, great misery, and I cannot console him. I have not the power. And he is all alone--all alone. And I fear--I fear--” He broke off with eloquent hands outspread. Avery saw the tears standing in his eyes.

She closed the door softly. ”What is it?” she said. ”Tell me what you fear!”

He looked at her, mastering his emotion with difficulty.

”_Madame, Monsieur Pierre_ has sentiments the most profound. He feel--_pa.s.sionnement_. He try to hide his sentiments from me. But me--I know. He sit alone in the great hall and look--and look. He sleep--never at all. He will not even go to bed. And in the great hall is an _escritoire_, and in it a drawer.” Victor's voice sank mysteriously.

”To-night--when he think he is alone--he open that drawer, and I see inside. It hold a revolver, _madame_. And he look at it, touch it, and then shake his head. But I am so afraid--so afraid. So--_enfin_--in my trouble I come to you. You have the influence with him, is it not so? You have--the power to console. _Madame--chere madame_--will you not come and speak with him for five little minutes? Just to encourage him, _madame_, in his sadness; for he is all alone!”

The tears ran down Victor's troubled face as he made his earnest appeal.

He mopped them openly, making no secret of his distress which was too pathetic to be ludicrous.

Avery looked at him in dismay. She knew not what to say or do; and even as she stood irresolute the hall-clock struck eleven through the silence of the house.

Victor watched her anxiously. ”_Madame_ is married,” he insinuated. ”She can please herself, no? And _Monsieur Pierre_--”

”Wait a minute, please!” she interrupted gently. ”I want to think.”

She went to the unlatched door and stood with her face to the night. She felt as if a call had come to her, but somehow--for no selfish reason--she hesitated to answer. Some unknown influence held her back.

Victor came softly up and stood close to her. ”_Madame_,” he said in a whisper, ”I tell you a secret--I, Victor, who have known _Monsieur Pierre_ from his infancy. He loves you, _madame_. He loves you much.

_C'est la grande pa.s.sion_ which comes only once in a life--only once.”

The low words went through her, seeming to sink into her very heart. She made a slight, involuntary gesture as of wincing. There was something in them that was almost more than she could bear.

She stood motionless with the chill night air blowing in upon her, trying to collect her thoughts, trying to bring herself to face and consider the matter before she made her decision. But it was useless. Those last words had awaked within her a greater force than she could control. From the moment of their utterance she was driven irresistibly, the decision was no longer her own.

Piers was alone. Piers loved her--wanted her. His soul cried to hers through the darkness. She saw him again as in her dream wrestling with those cruel iron bars, striving with vain agony to reach her. And all doubt went from her like a cloud.

She turned to Victor with grey eyes s.h.i.+ning and resolute. ”Let us go!” she said.

She took a cloak from a peg in the hall, lowered the light, took the key from the lock, and pa.s.sed out into the dark.

Victor followed her closely, softly latching the door behind him. He had known from the outset that the English _madame_ would not be able to resist his appeal. Was not _Monsieur Pierre_ as handsome and as desirable as though he had been a prince of the blood? He walked a pace behind her, saying no word, fully satisfied with the success of his mission.

Avery went with swift unerring feet; yet it seemed to her afterwards as if she had moved in a dream, for only the vaguest impression of that journey through the night remained with her. It was dark, but the darkness did not hinder her. She went as if drawn irresistibly--even against her will. At the back of her mind hovered the consciousness that she was doing a rash thing, but the woman's heart in it was too deeply stirred to care for minor considerations. The picture of Piers in his lonely hall hung ever before her, drawing her on.

He had not sent for her. She knew now that he would not send. Yet she went to him on winged feet. For she knew that his need of her was great.

There was no star in the sky and the night wind moaned in the trees as they went up the long chestnut avenue to the Abbey. The loneliness was great. It folded them in on every hand. It seemed to hang like a pall about the great dim building ma.s.sed against the sky, as though the whole place lay beneath a spell of mourning.

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