Part 38 (1/2)

Anne interrupted him, laughing again. ”I see the facts--the one fact--what are the circ.u.mstances to me?”

”They are a great deal to Herve,” Monsieur Joseph persisted.

”Herve, Herve!” she cried. ”But Joseph--mon Dieu, how can you take his wretched excuses! I thought you loved Ange! I thought the boy--”

She broke off with a sob, turning white as death. The two men stared at her, Monsieur Joseph with wild eyes and trembling lips. Would this be more than he could bear?

He took refuge in talking. He talked so fast that he hardly knew what he was saying. He poured out Herve's explanations, his regrets, his trouble of mind. Georges was bent upon this ball; it had been proposed long before his return; the first invitations had been sent out directly he came. He wished to make acquaintance with all the neighbours, old and new, official, or friends of the family; he wished to pay a special compliment to the officers at Sonnay, his brothers in arms. A formal invitation had been sent to General Ratoneau, who had actually accepted it, to Herve's great surprise. He had laughed and said that the dog wanted another thras.h.i.+ng. But let him come, if he chose to humble himself! He might see even more clearly that Helene was not for him. In Adelade's opinion, no private prejudices must have anything to do with this ball. It was given chiefly as a matter of politics, under imperial colours; it was for the interest of Georges that his family should thus definitely range itself with the Empire.

”Poor Herve said that he had already, more than once, spoilt his wife's calculations and failed to support her views. She and Georges, whatever private feeling might be, thought it impossible to put off this ball because of the misfortune that happened to Angelot. They would be understood to show sympathy with the Chouans. Then he abused me well, poor Herve,” said Monsieur Joseph, amiably. ”He said, as Urbain did, that I had ruined Angelot's life, and it was no one's fault but mine.

'Well, dear cousin,' I said to him, 'I will punish myself by not appearing at this fine ball of yours. Not that my dancing days are over, but for me, Ange's absence would spoil all.' 'You love that fellow!'

says Herve, looking at me. 'Love him!' says I. 'I would cut off my right hand to serve him, and that is a good deal for a sportsman.' Herve laughed as I said it. I do not dislike that poor Herve, though his wife rules him. Listen to me, you two. I believe if Ange had been reasonable and honest, Herve might have given him his daughter.”

”Heaven forbid!” cried Anne. ”But if you love Ange, do not blame him. He was young, he was mad, the girl was beautiful--and, after all, Joseph, you had something to do with putting that into his head. Ah, we are all to blame! We have all been cruel, blind, selfish. You and I thought of the King, Urbain thought of his cousins, they thought of themselves. We left my boy to find his own way in a time like this, and your Chouan friends were as dangerous for him as Helene de Sainfoy. Ah! and you excuse yourself with a laugh from dancing on his grave!”

She wrung her hands, threw herself back in her chair with a pa.s.sionate sigh.

”Madame,” said the Cure, suddenly;--his dim but watchful eyes had been fixed on Joseph; ”Madame, Monsieur Joseph could tell you, if he would, what has become of Angelot. He is not dead; I doubt if he is even in prison. Ah, monsieur, you do not dissimulate well!” as Joseph made him an eager sign to be silent.

But it was too late, for Anne was holding his two hands, and in the light of her eyes all his secret doings lay open.

”Why did I come!” he said to himself, in the intervals of a very difficult explanation. ”There is some magic in those walls of Lancilly, which attracts and ruins us all. If we live through this, thousand thunders, Herve de Sainfoy may make his own excuses to our dear little Anne in future!”

CHAPTER XXII

THE LIGHTED WINDOWS OF LANCILLY

There was no way out of it, without telling all. Fortunately Joseph knew that his secrets were safe with these two, whose hearts were absolutely Royalist, though circ.u.mstances held them bound to inactivity. Presently Anne rose and left the room.

”Thank G.o.d! that is over,” Joseph said, half to himself. ”I must be going. Monsieur le Cure, I leave her to you. Do not let her be too anxious. D'Ombre is rough, but a good fellow; he will take care of our Angelot.”

The old Cure was plunged in gloom. Tall and slight in his long black garment, he stood under the high chimneypiece, and leaned forward s.h.i.+vering, to warm his fingers at the blaze.

”Ah, monsieur!” he murmured. ”Have you thought what you are doing? Can you expect good to come out of evil? Your brother, who has done everything for us all, how are you treating him? If madame does not see it, I do. You are taking Ange, making him a conspirator and a Chouan. If you save him from one danger, you plunge him into a greater, for if he and Monsieur d'Ombre are caught on this mission, they will certainly pay for it with their lives. You are doing all this without his father's knowledge--”

”Ah, my dear Cure, I know the police better than you do,” Monsieur Joseph said hastily. ”These young fellows will not be the first who have escaped to England; and Ange cannot stay here with their eyes and claws upon him. Even his father would not wish that. Leave it to me. What is it, Anne? what are you thinking of?”

His sister-in-law had come back into the room, wrapped in a cloak, with a hood drawn over her face.

”I am going with you to see Ange,” she said.

The wind was howling, the rain was pattering outside. But Monsieur Joseph had all the trouble in the world to make her give up this idea.

At last, after many arguments and prayers, he persuaded her that she must not come to Les Chouettes but must absolutely trust Ange to him. He promised solemnly that the young man should not start without her knowing it, that, if possible, she should see her boy again.

”And if Urbain comes back before they are gone?” she said, looking whitely into his face. ”I tell you positively, Joseph, I shall not dare--”

”My dear friend, owing to Monsieur le Cure's unfortunate second-sight, your son's life is in your hands. If Urbain comes back, tell him all, if you will. His presence did not save Ange from being arrested before, it will not save him from being retaken. My fault, perhaps, as Urbain said--all my fault--” He struck his breast as if in church, with his fine smile. ”But then it is my place to save him, and I will do it, if you will let me--in my own way.”