Part 41 (1/2)
”I will do it--I will do it--for love of you,” Ratoneau said, and his voice became suddenly hoa.r.s.e. ”You are beautiful--and you are mine--mine.”
The girl shuddered from head to foot.
”No!” she said violently.
She did not look at Ratoneau. As to him, he did not speak, but laughed and bent nearer. She rose to her feet suddenly.
”You forget yourself--you are mad, Monsieur le General,” she said haughtily. ”If that is the condition--no! Pray do not concern yourself about my cousin's affairs, you have nothing to do with them.”
Ratoneau rose too, a little unsteadily.
”Listen one moment, mademoiselle,” he said. ”If I am mad, you are foolish, let me tell you. I said nothing about conditions, I stated facts. You will be my wife--therefore you are mine, you belong to me, and therefore there is nothing I will not do for love of you. My wife is the most beautiful woman in France, and she stands here.”
”Never, never!” murmured Helene. ”It has come!” she said to herself.
Her mother had threatened her with this; and now, apparently, all had been settled without a word to her. Even her father, once on her side, must be against her now. He had been angry with her; not without reason, she knew. Yes, this horrible thing had been arranged by her father, her mother, Georges, while she was kept a prisoner upstairs. If they had been kinder to her in the last few days, it was only that they wished to bring their victim smiling to the sacrifice. No wonder Georges had insisted on her dancing with General Ratoneau. No wonder her mother had taken pains to dress her beautifully for this ball, which she hated and dreaded so much.
These thoughts, with a wild desire to escape, rushed through Helene's mind as she stood breathless before this man who laid such a daring claim to her. He was smiling, though his lips were white. It is not pleasant to be treated as horrible sc.u.m of the earth by the woman you have arranged to marry; to see scorn, disgust, hatred in a girl's face, answering to your finest compliments.
”This young lady has a character--she has a temper--” he muttered between his teeth. ”But you will be tamed, ma belle. Who would have thought with those pale cheeks of yours--well, the Emperor's command will bring you to reason. Pity I spoke, perhaps--but a man cannot keep cool always. That command--Ah, thousand thunders! what do I see?”
The last words were spoken aloud. As Helene stood before him, silent, rooted with horror to the ground, he watching her with folded arms in a favourite imperial att.i.tude, several sets of people strolled across the lower end of the room, for this was one of a suite of salons. Suddenly came the master of the house alone, walking slowly, his eyes fixed on a letter in his hand, his face deathly white in the glimmer of the many wax candles. Helene did not see her father at first, for her back was turned to him, but at the General's words she turned quickly, and was just aware of him as he pa.s.sed into the next room. Without another word or look she left her partner standing there, and fled away in pursuit of him. Ratoneau watched the white figure vanis.h.i.+ng, laughed aloud, and swore heartily.
”This is dramatic,” he said. ”Fortunate that I have a friend at Court in Madame la Comtesse! Suppose I go and join her.”
Helene searched for her father in vain. By the time she reached the other room, he had quite unaccountably vanished. As she flew on rather distractedly among the guests, hurrying back to the ball-room, her brother's peremptory hand was laid upon her arm.
”What is the matter, Helene? Where are you running? Are you dancing with no one, and why do you look so wild?”
Helene answered none of these questions.
”Find me a partner, if you please,” she said, with a sudden effort at collecting herself. ”But, Georges--no more of your officers.”
Georges looked at her with a queer smile, but only said--
”And no more of your Chouans!”
CHAPTER XXIV
HOW MONSIEUR DE SAINFOY FOUND A WAY OUT
If Angelot expected to find the usual woodland stillness, that night, about the approaches to the Chateau de Lancilly, he was mistaken. The old place was surrounded; numbers of servants, ranks of carriages, a few gendarmes and soldiers. Half the villages were there, too, crowding about the courts, under the walls, and pressing especially round the chief entrance on the west, where a bridge over the old moat led into a court surrounded with high-piled buildings, one stately roof rising above another. Monsieur de Sainfoy kept up the old friendly fas.h.i.+on, and no gates shut off his neighbours from his domain.
Angelot came through the wood, which almost touched the house and shadowed the moat on the north side. He had meant to go in at some door, to pa.s.s through one of the halls, perhaps, and catch a glimpse of the dancing. All this now seemed more difficult; he could not go among the people without being recognised, and though, as far as himself was concerned, he would have dared anything for a sight of Helene, loyalty to his uncle stood in the way of foolhardiness.
He walked cautiously towards the steps leading down into the moat. This corner, far from any entrance, was dark and solitary. The little door in the moat was probably still blocked; but in any case the ivy was there, and the chapel window--heaven send it open, or at least unbarred!
”I shall do no harm to-night, Cousin Herve. I shall see her dancing with some happy fellow. If I don't know Lancilly well enough to spend ten minutes in the old gallery--n.o.body will be there--well, then--”
”Monsieur Angelot!” said a deep voice out of the darkness.